#colette says hi | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writingwithcolor · 1 year ago

Text

Naming International POC Characters: Do Your Research.

This post is part of a double feature for the same ask. First check out Mod Colette's answer to OP's original question at: A Careful Balance: Portraying a Black Character's Relationship with their Hair. Below are notes on character naming from Mod Rina.

~ ~ ~

@writingraccoon said:

My character is black in a dungeons and dragons-like fantasy world. His name is Kazuki Haile (pronounced hay-lee), and his mother is this world's equivalent of Japanese, which is where his first name is from, while his father is this world's equivalent of Ethiopian, which is where his last name is from. He looks much more like his father, and has hair type 4a. [...]

Hold on a sec.

Haile (pronounced hay-lee), [...] [H]is father is this world’s equivalent of Ethiopian, which is where his last name is from.

OP, where did you get this name? Behindthename.com, perhaps?

Note how it says, “Submitted names are contributed by users of this website. Check marks indicate the level to which a name has been verified.” Do you see any check marks, OP?

What language is this, by the way? If we only count official languages, Ethiopia has 5: Afar, Amharic, Oromo, Somali, & Tigrinya. If we count everything native to that region? Over 90 languages. And I haven't even mentioned the dormant/extinct ones. Do you know which language this name comes from? Have you determined Kazuki’s father’s ethnic group, religion, and language(s)? Do you know just how ethnically diverse Ethiopia is?

~ ~ ~

To All Looking for Character Names on the Internet:

Skip the name aggregators and baby name lists. They often do not cite their sources, even if they’re pulling from credible ones, and often copy each other.

If you still wish to use a name website, find a second source that isn’t a name website.

Find at least one real life individual, living or dead, who has this given name or surname. Try Wikipedia’s lists of notable individuals under "List of [ethnicity] people." You can even try searching Facebook! Pay attention to when these people were born for chronological accuracy/believability.

Make sure you know the language the name comes from, and the ethnicity/culture/religion it’s associated with.

Make sure you understand the naming practices of that culture—how many names, where they come from, name order, and other conventions.

Make sure you have the correct pronunciation of the name. Don’t always trust Wikipedia or American pronunciation guides on Youtube. Try to find a native speaker or language lesson source, or review the phonology & orthography and parse out the string one phoneme at a time.

Suggestions for web sources:

Wikipedia! Look for: “List of [language] [masculine/feminine] given names,” “List of most common [language] family names,” “List of most common surnames in [continent],” and "List of [ethnicity] people."

Census data! Harder to find due to language barriers & what governments make public, but these can really nail period accuracy. This may sound obvious, but look at the year of the character's birth, not the year your story takes place.

Forums and Reddit. No really. Multicultural couples and expats will often ask around for what to name their children. There’s also r/namenerds, where so many folks have shared names in their language that they now have “International Name Threads.” These are all great first-hand sources for name connotations—what’s trendy vs. old-fashioned, preppy vs. nerdy, or classic vs. overused vs. obscure.

~ ~ ~

Luckily for OP, I got very curious and did some research. More on Ethiopian & Eritrean naming, plus mixed/intercultural naming and my recommendations for this character, under the cut. It's really interesting, I promise!

Ethiopian and Eritrean Naming Practices

Haile (IPA: /həjlə/ roughly “hy-luh.” Both a & e are /ə/, a central “uh” sound) is a phrase meaning “power of” in Ge’ez, sometimes known as Classical Ethiopic, which is an extinct/dormant Semitic language that is now used as a liturgical language in Ethiopian churches (think of how Latin & Sanskrit are used today). So it's a religious name, and was likely popularized by the regnal name of the last emperor of Ethiopia, Haile Selassie (“Power of the Trinity”). Ironically, for these reasons it is about as nationalistically “Ethiopian” as a name can get.

Haile is one of the most common “surnames” ever in Ethiopia and Eritrea. Why was that in quotes? Because Ethiopians and Eritreans don’t have surnames. Historically, when they needed to distinguish themselves from others with the same given name, they affixed their father’s given name, and then sometimes their grandfather’s. In modern Ethiopia and Eritrea, their given name is followed by a parent’s (usually father’s) name. First-generation diaspora abroad may solidify this name into a legal “surname” which is then consistently passed down to subsequent generations.

Intercultural Marriages and Naming

This means that Kazuki’s parents will have to figure out if there will be a “surname” going forward, and who it applies to. Your easiest and most likely option is that Kazuki’s dad would have chosen to make his second name (Kazuki’s grandpa’s name) the legal “surname.” The mom would have taken this name upon marriage, and Kazuki would inherit it also. Either moving abroad or the circumstances of the intercultural marriage would have motivated this. Thus “Haile” would be grandpa’s name, and Kazuki wouldn’t be taking his “surname” from his dad. This prevents the mom & Kazuki from having different “surnames.” But you will have to understand and explain where the names came from and the decisions dad made to get there. Otherwise, this will ring culturally hollow and indicate a lack of research.

Typically intercultural parents try to

come up with a first name that is pronounceable in both languages,

go with a name that is the dominant language of where they live, or

compromise and pick one parent’s language, depending on the circumstances.

Option 1 and possibly 3 requires figuring out which language is the father’s first language. Unfortunately, because of the aforementioned national ubiquity of Haile, you will have to start from scratch here and figure out his ethnic group, religion (most are Ethiopian Orthodox and some Sunni Muslim), and language(s).

But then again, writing these characters knowledgeably and respectfully also requires figuring out that information anyway.

~ ~ ~

Names and naming practices are so, so diverse. Do research into the culture and language before picking a name, and never go with only one source.

~ Mod Rina

#asks #language #languages #linguistics #east africa #african #immigration #ethiopian #names #naming #research #resources #writeblr #character names #character name ideas #rina says read under the cut. read it

4K notes · View notes

cressidagrey · 19 days ago

Text

Such A Mystery - Part 12 - The End

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 12 of 12!

They were alone. Just the three of them.

Colette had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. But she had also never been so happy. Charlie had been fed once more and had then fallen back asleep, curled up on her father’s chest. Colette herself could barely keep her eyes open.

And she should be sleeping, but she could only watch her daughter curled up against Max's chest.

"How did we manage to create something so perfect?" She asked him softly.

Max let out a tired little huff of laughter, not bothering to open his eyes. “She is perfect, isn’t she?” he murmured quietly.

Colette felt a smile tugging at her face. “Perfect and absolutely beautiful,” she agreed quietly, shifting a little to get a better look at the two of them. "So perfect it almost hurts to look at her."

Max smiled at her. "I...There is this thing you should know," he said hesitantly.

Something about his tone, the hesitance in his voice, made Colette pause. "What is it?" she asked curiously.

"I may have told the whole world about us? On Instagram?" he admitted with a grimace.

She could only snort at that. "I think your father made sure that that cat was out of the bag," she told him drily. "What did you say?"

"That we have been a couple for 15 years. That I couldn't be happier with you and our little family," he said simply. "I wanted everybody to hear our truth," Max said softly. "Not what other people write."

"There is a romantic inside you after all," Colette teased him softly.

"You aren't angry?" Max checked.

Colette sighed. "Not at you," she said simply. "I can't be angry at you. You just want people to know how happy we are together. We kept it quiet for years for me," Colette said, staring at her daughter. "Is it weird that it feels like she put everything into perspective?" she asked him, nodding towards Charlie. "I just...I don't care anymore,” she admitted.

Max stared at her, blue eyes wide, but Colette just shrugged. “I was terrified for so long what people were going to think about me once they knew about us...but now...I don't care. What does it matter?"

Max reached over and laced his fingers through hers. "It doesn't," he promised her. "I'll start screaming it from the rooftops tomorrow, if you'll let me."

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "I think the media already knows," she teased, squeezing his hand. "We can just put my Instagram on public and let them eat their heart out," she suggested. It wasn’t meant seriously. Not really.

But the more she thought about it, she wondered if that was what it was going to take. Opening up the digital scrapbook of her life. Letting anybody have a peek at their relationship. Hoping that finally they would understand.

"We'd break the internet," Max retorted, grinning at her.

Colette laughed. "We really, really would. Reason enough to do it?" she teased him.

"And give my PR team a heart attack? Absolutely,” Max returned immediately. “Tell me when.”

"I love you," she told him seriously. "And I am ready to love you in public too."

She had done it from the shadows for 15 years after all.

He stared at her. "Are...Are you sure?"

"I am very, very sure, mon coeur," Colette told him softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "The only opinion that matters to me is yours - and my family's. I don't care what anyone else thinks," she added, glancing down at Charlie again, who slept blissfully on, cuddled against Max's chest.

"If people want to call me an attention whore or a gold digger, they are welcome to it," Colette said quietly. "I don't care. I'm happy and you're happy and our baby is happy. Let them write whatever they want."

***

"Marry me," Max blurted out.

His words came out of his mouth before he had even realised what he was saying. The room suddenly became very quiet, as if all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of it, and Max suddenly realised that he had just blurted out the question he had been meaning to ask for months, at a time that couldn’t be further from ideal.

Colette was staring at him, her eyebrows raised and a look of surprise on her face. She seemed frozen and totally caught off guard by his question. And he didn’t blame her for that. She was exhausted, and had just given birth, and here he was, bombarding her with questions as if this was the perfect moment to do it.

But then she smiled at him.

"Yes," Colette said simply. "Always yes. You know that.”

Relief surged through him so strongly, Max thought he might just about collapse. She had said yes.

Granted she had said yes the last time as well.

He remembered that day like it had been yesterday…remembered coming home that May evening in 2016…Fuelled with adrenaline from his first “proper” win. Remembered the trophy that still had a place of pride in their living room…the bottle of champagne, the Pirelli cap…and the ring that he had bought after that race. The celebratory crepes for breakfast the next day where still a tradition they kept with.

Max felt like he could have exploded there and then, just from happiness. He couldn’t believe that he had just asked her, that she had just said yes. It didn’t feel real. It felt like something out of a dream.

"Yes?" he repeated incredulously, just to make sure he hadn’t actually dreamt it. "You’ll marry me?"

"Properly this time," she teased him, with the most beautiful smile on her face, as she leane up to press a kiss against his lips. “I’ll marry you, Maxie.”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the sound breathless. It wasn’t just exhaustion that made him sound like that, it was disbelief, a sort of giddy lightness.

"Properly this time," he echoed back to her, his words soft. "You’ll marry me properly."

He couldn’t actually believe she was saying yes. "I do have a ring," he assured her. "It's at home. I hid it in the trophy."

Colette laughed. "Of course, you hid it in the trophy," she repeated, her voice warm and amused."Of course you did."

Max gave her what he hoped was at least a resemblance of a sheepish look. “Where else would it be safe?” he said defensively. "And I know you wouldn't look there," he added.

"A perfect place to hide something you don't want me to find," Colette agreed.

Max grinned at her. "Exactly," he said happily, gently brushing her hair from her face.

"Which trophy?" she asked him seriously.

"Spain 2016," he answered honestly. His first one. The one.

"You hid it in the 2016 trophy?" Colette repeated, her smile widening into a grin. "Really?"

"Just felt appropriate,” he answered honestly. He still remembered handing it to Colette for the first time, the ring that he had bought clanging around in the bottom of it.

"It is," she agreed softly, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips.

Max smiled against her mouth, his arms tightening around her, pulling her a little closer. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He couldn’t believe he had just blurted out the one question he had been wanting to ask for ages, and she had actually just said yes.

"You’re really going to marry me," he mumbled against her mouth, unable to help the words. "You’re actually going to marry me."

"I had your baby, but this is what shocks you?" Colette asked him with a laugh.

He laughed, pulling her closer again and nuzzling his face into her shoulder, her words causing him to blush faintly. “I love you,” he mumbled against her skin quietly.

"I love you too," she echoed back quietly. "And yes, I will marry you. As many times as you’ll ask."

"I am the luckiest man in the whole world," he said softly.

"No, I’m the luckiest," she told him gently, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close again. "To have you, and this, and Charlie, and all of it. It’s everything I ever wanted.”

468 notes · View notes

bed-chemist · 3 months ago

Note

ommmmg can u write something with nicolas being a new dad x reader wife 🙏🙏🙏 maybe them visiting his family during a short trip and him being sooooooo daddyyyy 😭😭 after seeing him in those GH pic with this baby …. 🥵😮‍💨 i just need a dad imagines with him since there isn’t any

❝Juno❞

─⋆♡ summary: You’re married to Nicholas Chavez and you bring your newborn baby to meet his grandparents.

─⋆♡ warnings: pregnancy, postpartum depression, fluff, allusions to sex but no smut, Daddy!Nicholas Chavez, Y/N used a few times, 1st person POV. as always i’m always learning so correct me if i missed something!!

─⋆♡ an: based on this ask & shoutout to that person because this was super sweet to write. there’s no public info on his parents and i felt weird looking for it so here’s some Chavez grandparents content. since this may be your introduction to me, i do write in first person, just inserting Y/N. 2nd and 3rd person are absolutely insufferable to me and make me wanna die. with that being said, i’m glad there’s no shortage of those fics on this website. my masterlist is the pinned post on my profile and i hope you all enjoy this imagine! ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

The journey to Nicholas’ grandparents’ house is filled with quiet anticipation. We haven’t visited in a while, not since Colette was born. I can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness at the thought of introducing Colette to her great-grandparents, Nick SR and Betty. Nicholas always speaks of them with such affection, often recounting tales from his childhood spent at their cozy home. They were instrumental in raising him, and their influence is deeply ingrained in who he’s become. Now, I’m eager to see how they’ll respond to our little family, especially to me as a new mother.

The sun is high in the sky as we pull into the gravel driveway, which crunches under the tires. The house is a charming, white colonial-style home with flower boxes beneath the windows, bursting with vibrant blooms. It looks like something out of a postcard—quaint and welcoming. Nicholas squeezes my hand as he turns off the car.

“You ready for this?” he asks, his brown eyes twinkling with excitement.

I smile, though my heart races. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond unwilling to let his hand go for the last time.

I eventually gain enough strength to go a second without touching him. We both step out of the car, and I unbuckle Colette from her car seat, carefully lifting her into my arms. She’s dressed in a soft, pastel onesie with tiny flowers embroidered on the front. Her big espresso colored eyes, so much like Nicholas’, blink up at me as she squirms a little in my hold. I kiss her soft forehead, breathing in that sweet baby scent that always seems to calm my nerves.

Before we even reach the front door, it flies open, and Betty appears on the porch. Her face lights up in a radiant smile as she hurries down the steps toward us. She’s a small woman, but she moves with surprising speed and agility, her silver hair tied back in a loose bun.

“There she is! Oh, it’s about time!” Betty exclaims, ignoring Nicholas entirely as she comes straight for me and Colette. Her arms are wide open, and she pulls me into a hug, careful not to crush the baby between us. “You, my darling, look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you. And this precious girl…” Her voice trails off as she gazes at Colette with shining eyes. “Oh, she’s just perfect.”

I laugh softly, returning her hug. “I’ve missed you, Mrs. Betty and thank you.”

Betty steps back, her hands still on my arms, her attention fully on Colette. “No, thank you! You brought another little angel into our family,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve made me the happiest great-grandmother.”

Nicholas, standing off to the side, grins as he watches the scene unfold. “Hey, Grandma,” he chimes in, clearly amused. “Good to see you too.”

Betty waves a hand in his direction without even glancing his way. “Yes, yes, Nicholas. We’ll get to you in a minute.” Her eyes shimmer as she reaches out to gently stroke Colette’s chubby cheek. “She’s absolutely precious,” she coos. “She looks just like Nicholas did when he was a baby.”

Just then, Nicholas’ grandfather steps out onto the porch, his tall frame casting a shadow as he approaches us. His blue eyes light up when he sees me holding Colette. “Well, if it isn’t our favorite girl,” he says with a warm grin, pulling me into a quick hug before peering down at Colette. “And look at this—another beauty in the family. You’ve done well,” he adds, giving Nicholas a nod of approval before clapping him on the shoulder.

“Well she is 50% of me so…” Nicholas’s twinge of jealousy for his favorite girls peeks out.

“Oh, hush, Nicholas,” Betty replies, waving a hand at him dismissively before turning to me again. “Come on, dear, let’s get you inside. You must be exhausted after the drive. And you must let me hold this precious girl as soon as you’re settled.”

Inside the house, the smell of freshly baked bread wafts through the air, mingling with the scent of herbs and flowers. The living room is cozy and welcoming, filled with family photos and knick-knacks that speak of years of love and memories. There are pictures of Nick as a little boy, his brother, and even one of us on our wedding day.

Betty leads us to the couch, offering to take Colette for a little while so I can rest. “She’s such a calm baby,” Betty remarks as she cradles Colette in her arms. “I remember Nicholas being a little firecracker at this age—always kicking and fussing. But you, my dear, are an angel, aren’t you?” she coos, her voice full of love as Colette blinks up at her.

Nick Sr. settles into an armchair nearby, watching with a contented smile. “Betty’s right,” he says, his voice warm. “Nick was a handful. Always running around and getting into trouble. I don’t know how we managed to keep up with him.”

Nicholas chuckles, settling beside me on the couch and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve heard those stories a few times.”

“I bet you have,” Betty says, her eyes twinkling. “But look at you now—such a wonderful father and husband. We’re so proud of you.”

My heart swells at their words, and I feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. It’s clear how much they love Nicholas and how deeply they cherish their family. Their affection extends to me as well, making me feel welcomed in a way that eases the nervousness I had felt earlier.

Betty carefully passes Colette back to me, and I can’t help but notice how her eyes linger on us—on the way I hold my daughter, the way Colette nuzzles into me. After a moment, she glances at Nick Sr., sharing a look that seems to speak volumes.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Betty says suddenly, rising from her seat with a bright smile. “We have something to show you.”

She disappears into another room, returning moments later with a large, leather-bound photo album. She hands it to Nicholas with a wide grin. “These are pictures of you when you were about Colette’s age. I thought it’d be fun to compare.”

Nicholas takes the album and begins flipping through the pages, his eyes lighting up as he sees the photos. “Oh wow,” he says, pointing to a picture of himself as a baby, bundled in a blanket. “Look at that, she really does look like me.”

I lean over to see the photo, and sure enough, the resemblance is striking. Colette has inherited her father’s dark hair and expressive eyes, and there’s something about the way she smiles that’s undeniably Nicholas Chavez.

Betty beams. “She’s got that same spark in her eyes that you had. And those cheeks! I could pinch them all day.”

I can’t help but smile as Nicholas flips through more photos—Nicholas as a toddler, covered in mud from head to toe; Nicholas on his first day of school, looking serious and determined; Nicholas holding a toy sword, pretending to be a knight. It’s clear that his grandparents were there for all of it, capturing every moment with care.

“Look at this one,” Nicholas says, laughing as he holds up a picture of himself as a toddler, sitting in a high chair with spaghetti sauce smeared all over his face.

Betty chuckles. “You loved spaghetti. Still do, if I remember correctly.”

As we continue to flip through the album, Betty excuses herself and motions for me to follow her into the kitchen. I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what she wants to talk about, but her kind smile reassures me.

Once we’re alone, she turns to me, her expression soft and full of understanding. “I just wanted to tell you that you’re doing a wonderful job, Y/N,” she says, her voice gentle. “Being a new mom is hard, and it can feel overwhelming sometimes. But from what I’ve seen, you’re handling it beautifully.”

I feel a lump form in my throat at her words, the unexpected kindness bringing a surge of emotion. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “It’s been… challenging at times. I have moments where I wonder if I’m doing it right.”

Betty reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “Those moments of doubt are normal. Every mother feels them. But you have such a natural way with Colette. She feels safe and loved with you—that’s the most important thing.”

I nod, blinking back tears. “It’s just… sometimes I feel like I should be able to do more. I get so tired, and Nick’s been amazing, but…” I trail off, stopping myself from revealing my biggest insecurities.

Betty’s eyes soften even more. “It’s okay to ask for help, dear. You don’t have to do it all on your own. If you ever need anything—advice, a break, someone to talk to—you can always come to me. I’m here for you, and so is Nicholas. We’re all family now,” she offers.

Her words wrap around me like a comforting embrace, and for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of relief. “Thank you,” I whisper, grateful beyond words.

Betty smiles and gives my hand another gentle squeeze. “You’re doing wonderfully. Just remember to take care of yourself too, okay?”

I nod, my heart swelling with appreciation for this woman who has welcomed me into her family with open arms. As we walk back into the living room, I feel lighter, the weight of my doubts lifting just a little.

Nicholas looks up as we enter, his eyes softening as they meet mine. “Everything okay?” he asks, his brow furrowing slightly in concern.

I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. “Yeah,” I say softly. “Everything’s perfect.”

As the afternoon fades into evening, Betty leans forward with a warm smile, her hands clasped in her lap. “It’s been so wonderful having you all here today,” she says, her eyes soft as she looks between Nicholas, me, and Colette. “Why don’t you stay the night? It’s been far too long since we’ve had a full house, and we’d love the chance to spend more time with you.”

Nicholas turns to me, his voice gentle as he asks, “What do you think? We don’t have anywhere to rush off to, and it would give me a break from driving back tonight.”

I hesitate for a moment, weighing the offer. I think about Colette’s bedtime routine, the packed bags in the car, and my own exhaustion. But as I glance around at the warmth of the house, Nick’s grandparents’ eager faces, and the calmness that seems to settle over everything, I feel myself relax. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a change of scenery, and the idea of spending more time here—surrounded by family—sounds like exactly what I need.

“That sounds wonderful,” I say, smiling at Betty. “Thank you. We’d love to stay.”

Betty’s face lights up, and Nick Sr. nods with a wide grin. “Perfect,” he says. “We’ve got the guest room ready, and I can set up the bassinet in the guest room next to it. It’ll be like old times, having a little one in the house again.”

Betty stands, already making her way toward the kitchen. “I’ll put some tea on for later. You two make yourselves at home.”

Nicholas squeezes my hand, a smile spreading across his face. “See? It’s going to be a nice, quiet night—just us, Colette, and the best grandparents ever.”

The evening unfolds comfortably from there. Betty and Nick Sr. share stories about Nick’s childhood over cups of tea, their voices light with laughter and nostalgia. As the night deepens, we finally make our way to the guest room. It’s cozy and inviting, with a soft bedspread, and warm lighting.

Colette falls asleep easily after nursing, making for an easy bedtime routine. Nicholas and I kiss her on the forehead goodnight once we’ve got her situated in the bassinet. We separate briefly to prep for bed and when I’m finished, I crack open the door to the en-suite bathroom.

Nicholas looks up from a script, setting it to the side of the bedside table. My feet patter over to him and he pulls back the duvet for me to climb in. “I’m so tired,” I note as I slide between the sheets.

He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to his body. “I know, baby. Maybe my grandparents will watch her in the morning so we can sleep in,” he theorizes lowly, but I can still feel the bass of his voice rumbling from his chest into my back.

I sigh, letting my eyes flutter closed. It’s been an emotional day, and I’m ready for sleep. “It’s okay if they can’t. I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he breathes out with his lips kissing my ear one last time.

My body lets me drift into sleep, hearing nothing but Nicholas’ breathing and the faint sound of crickets outside. But that peace is eventually interrupted by the familiar sound of Colette’s soft cry filling the quiet room.

I blink awake, momentarily disoriented, unsure of where I am. The dimly lit room feels unfamiliar, and for a brief, groggy moment, I can’t remember how we ended up here. But then the memories come rushing back—the visit to Nick’s grandparents, Betty’s kind words, the warmth of the evening.

With a heavy sigh, I sit up in bed, my body aching with fatigue. I haven’t gotten nearly enough sleep, and Colette’s cries, though soft, feel like they’re pulling me out of the little bit of rest I’ve managed. The sheets feel cold, and for the first time tonight, I realize Nick’s arms aren’t wrapped around me as they usually are.

The bed dips beneath me, and I hear the soft thud of feet padding across the floor. “Shit,” Nicholas mutters under his breath as he comes into view. I lift my head, watching him groggily fumble with the baby monitor to turn down the volume.

His chocolate tinted eyes meet mine in the dimly lit room, his face softened with a sleepy smile. “I got it, baby. Go back to sleep,” he murmurs, his voice thick and gravelly.

I don’t resist as my head falls back onto the pillow. Nicholas tucks the duvet around my shoulders, his touch warm and reassuring, and leans down to kiss my forehead before slipping out of the room.

As my eyes flutter shut once again, I can’t help but feel immense gratitude for him—for understanding, for seeing me. Nicholas has always been an amazing partner, but since Colette was born, something has deepened. Maybe it's the way he’s embraced fatherhood, those tender daddy traits emerging in him day by day.

I don’t know how long I drift in and out of sleep before the bed dips once more. This time, I turn over to face Nicholas, only to find him kneeling on top of the duvet, cradling Colette in his arms. He gently rocks her, and his brown eyes, full of apology, meet mine. “I'm sorry, babe,” he says softly. “She’s hungry, and I checked the fridge and my Grandma must’ve given her the rest. We’re out of pumped milk,” he gives his valid reason for disturbing me.

With a tired sigh, I push myself up, scooting back against the headboard. “It’s okay,” I reply, motioning for Nicholas to hand Colette to me. “It’s not your fault I don’t pump fast enough for her.”

Nicholas shifts closer, still kneeling, his eyes warm with reassurance. “It’s not your fault either, baby girl,” he says tenderly. “You’re doing everything right. She’s just got my appetite, that’s all.”

Nick’s words bring a smile to my face as I take our little girl in my arms, feeling the love and support that radiates from him. Colette’s small body relaxes the moment she’s nestled in my arms, and I adjust my position to help her latch on. Instinctively, her tiny mouth finds its way, and I feel that familiar pull as she begins to nurse. The room is quiet now, save for the soft sounds of her feeding and the gentle rustle of the duvet as Nicholas shifts beside me, sitting back in his spot where he just laid.

The weight of exhaustion still presses heavily on my body, but there's something calming about this moment—something intimate and grounding. Colette’s little hand rests against my skin, her tiny fingers curling and uncurling as she nurses. Despite the tiredness, I feel a sense of peace wash over me.

Nicholas watches us, his expression soft and filled with admiration. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, his touch tender. "You’re amazing, you know that?" he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath in the dark.

I smile faintly, my heart swelling at his words, but before I can respond, he continues, his eyes never leaving mine. "I don’t tell you enough how much I love you... both of you." His gaze flickers to Colette, his eyes warm and full of adoration. "Watching you with her... seeing how strong you are, how much you give every day. You’ve made me the luckiest man in the world, Y/N."

His words sink into me, wrapping around my heart like a warm blanket. The weight of my earlier guilt begins to lift, replaced by the quiet assurance that I’m not alone in this. We’re a team, navigating the highs and lows together.

"I love you too," I murmur, my voice thick with emotion as I glance down at Colette, her soft breaths steady against me. "And I’m so grateful for you. I couldn’t do this without you."

Nicholas leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, lingering for a moment as if sealing the promise of his words. "You’re the best mom, you know that? And she’s lucky to have you," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my skin.

I close my eyes, soaking in the warmth of his presence and feeling the steady rhythm of Colette’s nursing. In this moment, the exhaustion, the doubts, and the guilt of my postpartum depression fade into the background, leaving only the love we share—the love that brought Colette into our lives.

Nicholas settles back into bed beside me, his hand resting gently on my leg, a silent reminder that we’re in this together. And as Colette’s soft suckling continues, I let myself fully relax.

Once Colette finishes nursing, her tiny body grows limp in my arms, signaling she’s drifted back to sleep. I carefully adjust her, cradling her small frame against my chest. Nicholas is still sitting beside me, his hand never leaving my leg, his eyes filled with the kind of tenderness that makes my heart swell.

“Do you want me to take her?” Nicholas asks softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

I nod, and with practiced gentleness, he scoops her up and places her between us on the bed. Colette barely stirs, her little hands curling up by her face as she nestles into the space between us. The sight of her lying there, so peaceful and content, brings a soft smile to my lips. My body involuntarily slides down and I stoke her cheek with the back of my finger.

Nick lays down with his head propped up in one arm, the other sliding around me. But as I gaze at Colette sleeping peacefully between us, a small wave of anxiety creeps in. What if we roll over onto her during the night? My breath hitches slightly, and I turn my head toward him.

Nicholas immediately senses my concern and shifts closer, his hand coming to rest gently on my cheek. "Hey, don't worry," he says softly, his voice reassuring. "I’ve got her. We’ve got her. I won’t let anything happen." His thumb brushes against my skin as he speaks, his gaze steady and full of calm. "I’ve read up on this, remember? She’s safe with us. We’re light sleepers, and we’re both hyper-aware she’s here. I’ll make sure we’re careful."

I nod, though the worry still lingers. Nicholas leans in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "You won’t roll over on her. I won’t either. Trust me, baby. And if you’re still worried, I can take her back to the bassinet,” he assures me.

I glance down at Colette, her tiny chest rising and falling, completely at ease between us. There’s something comforting about her being so close, something I don’t want to give up. "No," I say softly, shaking my head. "I want her here with us. I just... I get nervous sometimes,” I admit to him, the concerns laced with my postpartum depression symptoms.

"I know," he murmurs. "But you’re not alone in this. We’re doing it together, okay? She’s safe. We’ll keep her safe,” he promises.

His warmth and the calm assurance in his voice help to ease the anxiety a little, and I let out a slow breath. I snuggle closer to him, nestling my head in the crook of his neck. "Thank you," I whisper.

Nicholas kisses the top of my head, his hand stroking Colette’s tiny arm before returning it to my waist. “I used to dream about this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You, me, and a baby… just lying here like this, all together.” His eyes shine in the dim light, filled with a quiet wonder. “I’d imagine what it would feel like, how perfect it would be. But this... this is even better than I imagined.”

His words sink deep into my chest, filling me with warmth. I glance down at Colette, her chest rising and falling steadily between us, and I feel a wave of contentment wash over me. “I’m glad too. It’s everything I didn’t know I needed,” I whisper back.

Nick’s thumb rubs gentle circles over the exposed skin on my side, and for a while, we lie there in comfortable silence, both of us watching Colette sleep. I feel the weight of his arm around me, the warmth of his body, and I can’t help but think about our future—about the life we’re building together.

After a while, I glance up at Nick, my voice soft but curious. “Do you ever think about… having another one? Another baby, I mean.”

His reaction is immediate. His brown eyes light up, the glint of excitement undeniable. He grins, that boyish, playful smile I fell in love with, and there’s no hesitation in his voice. “Oh, absolutely. I thought one of you was cute, but two though? Didn’t think I could handle it. But now that I’ve experienced it, I want three of you as soon as possible,” he rambles.

I laugh softly, both amused and surprised by his enthusiasm. “Three of us, huh?” I ask to clarify he’s not drunk on love.

“Yeah, babe,” he says, his hand moving to stroke Colette’s tiny hand before trailing over my arm. “We could start trying as soon as possible. I mean, why wait? We make great babies together,” he jokes and I stifle a laugh to not wake up our sleeping child.

His grin turns mischievous as he leans in closer, his voice dropping a little lower. “We could even try out some freaky positions this time… you know, spice things up.”

I roll my eyes playfully, shaking my head at him, though my heart flutters at his words. “That’s all you, God bless your dad’s genetics,” I tease, eyeing him with a smirk.

Nicholas chuckles, clearly enjoying my response, but there’s a seriousness in his eyes too—a real desire to keep building this life together. “I’m serious though,” he murmurs, his hand moving to rest on my waist. “I want more of this. More of us. I want a whole bunch of mini versions of you running around, driving me crazy in the best way.”

His words hit me in a way I wasn’t expecting, and I feel a flush of warmth spread through me. I lean closer, letting my fingers trace over his arm. “You’re really ready for another one, huh?”

Nick’s gaze locks with mine, intense but full of love. “Yeah, Y/N. I don’t just want another one. I want a whole football team of kids with you. As soon as you’re ready,” he says firmly.

I bite my lip, considering his words, feeling the quiet excitement bubbling up inside me. “I might just let you lock me down tonight,” I tease, my voice soft but playful.

His eyes darken slightly, that same spark of mischief flickering in them. “Oh, baby, don’t tempt me,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a lingering kiss against my lips.

I pull back slightly, laughing against his mouth. “Let’s not rush it,” I whisper, even though my hormones are raging at the thought. “But... I do love the idea of growing our little family,” I add to soften the blow of sex denial.

Nicholas grins again, his arm pulling me closer as Colette sleeps peacefully between us. “Then let’s make it happen,” he says softly. “One more baby… and then another after that, we can talk again. I just know I want it all with you. Every first word and every first day of school, my love.”

I smile, resting my head on his shoulder, letting the warmth of his words and the future he envisions wash over me. “One step at a time,” I murmur, though the idea is already taking root in my mind, the thought of more little ones filling our home with love.

As we lay there, cuddling around Colette, the future feels wide open—and incredibly full of promise. The room is quiet, the soft hum of the night surrounding us, and as we lay there, I feel the steady rise and fall of Nick’s chest beneath my palms.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear. I smile softly, my body already succumbing to sleep as I whisper back,

“Goodnight, Nicholas. I love you,” I murmur, never getting tired of reminding him.

“I love you too,” he replies, his voice full of warmth and certainty. “Both of my girls.”

With that, the last thing I feel is the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of Colette’s breathing between us, and the overwhelming sense of love that wraps around the three of us, pulling us into the soft cocoon of sleep.

The next time I stir awake, it’s to the feeling of the sun shining on my face. Nicholas’ familiar presence is next to me, his body relaxed as he leans back against the headboard. I can feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, the slight rustle of pages as he quietly reads. For a moment, I let myself enjoy the comfort of having him close.

But something is wrong.

I don’t feel Colette.

The tiny body that was nestled between us is gone, and in an instant, a wave of cold panic floods my chest. My breath catches, and my heart starts to pound, my worst fear bubbling to the surface. Oh God, did I roll over her? Did we…?

My eyes snap open, and I sit up abruptly, frantically scanning the bed. My hands reach out, patting the mattress in blind desperation as my breath quickens. Where is she? My mind spirals into worst-case scenarios, and my pulse races faster with each second I can’t find her.

Nicholas looks up from his script, his brow furrowing as he notices my panic. “Y/N, baby, what’s wrong?” His voice is calm, but I can hear the concern lacing his words.

“Colette,” I breathe, my voice barely a whisper as the fear clutches at me. “She’s not here, Nick. I—where is she?”

Nicholas immediately places his script aside and sits up, reaching for me. His hands find my shoulders, grounding me. “Babe, she’s fine,” he says gently, his voice steady, though I can see the alarm in his eyes as he realizes why I’m panicking. “Grandma has her. She came in earlier to take her so you could rest. She’s with her now, probably showing her off to her knitting group. Everything’s okay.”

I stare at Nicholas, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through me, but the words slowly sink in. Colette isn’t in danger. She’s not here because Betty took her.

I let out a shaky breath, pressing a hand to my chest as the fear begins to ebb away. “I thought… I woke up and she wasn’t there. I thought we—” My voice falters, not even wanting to finish the thought.

Nicholas pulls me into his arms, holding me close. “I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve woken you to tell you, but you looked so peaceful, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” he apologizes profusely.

I nod against Nick’s chest, the tension finally loosening from my body as I cling to him. “I just… that’s what I’ve been afraid of, rolling over her in our sleep,” I admit.

“I know,” Nicholas murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “But I would never let that happen. I swear that to you,” he adds.

I take a deep breath, letting the warmth of his embrace steady me. My pulse slows down, and the overwhelming panic that had gripped me starts to dissipate, leaving me feeling drained. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Y/N,” Nicholas says, his hand gently stroking my back. “You’re a mom. It’s normal to worry, but I’ve got you. I’ve got both of you.”

I pull back slightly, meeting his eyes that are full of understanding. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice still shaky but filled with gratitude.

Nicholas smiles softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Get some more rest, okay? Grandma’s got Colette covered.”

I nod, feeling the last remnants of panic finally fade. I glance at his script beside him and give a tired smile. “You’re memorizing lines this early?” I pry.

He chuckles. “Just passing the time until you woke up. But you come first,” he vows.

I sink back into the pillows, the warmth of Nicholas beside me a comforting presence now that the fear has passed. As I close my eyes, the world feels right again. Colette is safe, Nicholas is here, and I let myself relax fully for the first time since waking up. The panic has faded into the background, leaving only the steady hum of reassurance from my husband beside me.

#nicholas chavez x y/n #nicholas chavez one shot #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #Nicholas Chavez fluff #nicholas chavez imagine #daddy!nicholas chavez #dad!nicholas chavez #husband!nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez imagine #nicholas alexander chavez one shot

650 notes · View notes

hannyoontify · 5 months ago

Text

[21:23] jeonghan sighed to himself before gently knocking on your bedroom door.

'i'm home'

he heard you shuffling on the other side of the door before your soft voice called out. 'come in'

he pushed the door open and walked into the sight of you covered with tissues, plushies, and pillows. your laptop was resting on your lap (duh) and your eyes were red. jeonghan felt a fond smile tugging on the corners of his lips and he made his way to your side of the bed.

'what movie was it this time? big hero 6? inside out? up? coco? ratatouille?' jeonghan cupped your face with his hands and wiped away a stray tear with his thumb.

you pouted and hit his chest. 'ratatouille was sad, okay? they opened a new restaurant and remy was able to live the life he wanted with the support of his family' you sniffled. you felt your eyes sting as they began to tear up again and hit jeonghan's chest once more when he laughed. 'it's not funny! linguini and colette were in love and they ended up together'

jeonghan smiled. 'and that's why you're covered in tissues. because a rat can cook'

''better than you, at least'

he gasped and you giggled in delight in the way he took (pretend) offense to that. you smiled and pulled away as he reveled in his shock, his mouth hanging wide open. 'go get changed, i don't want your outside germs on the bed'

jeonghan did as he was told. he climbed into bed next to you (pushing a couple plushes off the bed in the process–you would kill him for that but that was a future jeonghan problem. right now he just wanted to hold you in his arms) and guided your head to rest on his chest. his arm wrapped around you and rested on your waist and pulled your body closer to his.

'how'd you know?' you asked more quietly. jeonghan rested his lips on the top of your head, inhaling the gentle scent of aloe shampoo.

your boyfriend simply hummed. 'what's there not for me to know about you, my darling? i can read you like a book- actually not a book, i don't like books'

you snorted.

'i can read you like.. a magazine! yeah. magazines. magazines are better because i'm in some of them. and they have pictures. lots of pictures'

you wrinkled your nose at his short ramble and pressed a quick kiss to his collarbone. 'i think you're sleep deprived, hannie'

'nuh-uh'

'yuh-huh. what if i told you that best friends to lovers was better than enemies to lovers'

you never got a response because jeonghan had already fallen fast asleep.

(although if he heard you say that, he would've been whipped up into a frenzy and present a 125 page PPT about why ETL was better than FTL)

a/n: and what if i wrote a jeonghan enlistment fic. would that be too horrible

#hannyoontify.works #hannyoontify.drabbles #seventeen #svt #jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff

485 notes · View notes

emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

Text

Beloved, Besotted, Betrothed. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: Beloved, Besotted, Betrothed.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: {DH1} set during Bill and Fleur’s wedding. No mentions of War or Voldy.

Summary: Weddings always bring out the best in people, but you hadn’t expected it to bring out something else entirely within Fred.

Warnings: SMUT. P in v sex, oral sex both male and female receiving, Role-play, illusions to choking, Fred has a wife kink? Innocence kink. Strong cursing. Mentions that reader has curves and large breasts. Established relationship. Talk of marriage.

"Oh Molly you look beautiful," you say as you step into the kitchen, seeing your boyfriend's mum all dolled up ready for her eldest son's wedding. You had been upstairs getting ready with the bride and the rest of the bridesmaids, finishing your hair and makeup when you remembered that Fleur's fascinator was still in the box on the kitchen table.

The men had been tasked with setting up the marquee outside and had been essentially banished from the house as the women got ready, with strict warnings from Molly to not mess about, those warnings no doubt pointedly aimed at Fred and George.

"Oh thank you dear," she says blushing as she fusses with a piece of her hair, flustered by the compliment.

She was wearing a long green and turquoise patterned dress with flowing sleeves, a little satin waistband and a ruffled pattern on her right shoulder that resembled a flower. Her signature red hair had been curled with one section pinned back and decorated with a beautiful antique hair brooch and her makeup complimented her look perfectly.

"It's so nice to be all dressed up," she giggles as she waved her wand slightly, the plates of food on the counter becoming magically wrapped by a covering to keep the food fresh. You smile at her, nodding your head to agree as you spot the box from the table, choosing to spend a little time with Molly before retreating back upstairs.

"I wish it were you and Fred getting married today," she says with a sigh, looking out the window towards the Weasley men, and Harry, who are all trying to erect the tent. Your chest swells as you spot Fred looking so handsome in his suit, minus the blazer jacket, his golden waistcoat glimmering in the sun as he concentrates on the spot he's lifting with his wand.

"Molly," you playfully scold, knowing exactly what she meant by that. She gives you a little look where she pretends to be contrite for just a moment before scrunching her nose up and shrugging.

Fleur was not her first choice of daughter in law as she'd admitted to you more than once that she found her bossy and rude and had questioned the longevity of their relationship as she believed they were rushing into things, that the physical attraction between them was the most prominent reason why they were together.

Truthfully, you quite liked Fleur. She could be a little off handed with some of her comments, a little too quick to say what she thought rather than consider the effect of her words but you always thought it could be because of her having to mentally translate before speaking English. You couldn't deny that she had not made clever moves to try and impress Mr and Mrs Weasley and had inadvertently criticised their home, the family and Molly's favourite singer, Celestina Warbeck, all in the same sentence. If you hadn't been so protective of the Weasley family, you'd probably had actually found it impressive that she'd managed to offend nearly everyone in the household in less than two minutes.

You'd met during your sixth year at Hogwarts when the triwizard tournament had taken place and had become good friends with her and two of her Beauxton schoolmates Colette and Clemence, both of whom were also bridesmaids.

"I'm just saying," Molly says with a little knowing smirk. "I can't wait to have you as my daughter."

"Then you'll have to talk to your son," you quipped, casting one last look back outside to where the men were still trying to get the tent up straight, seeing even from afar that Fred's tongue had slipped out to rest in his bottom lip, something he did when he was concentrating hard.

"Believe me I will," she says with a smile, reaching out to pat your shoulder before walking over to the sink to busy herself.

You grab the box with Fleur's fascinator in and return back upstairs to finish getting the bride ready. Once Fleur was ready, you quickly changed into your bridesmaid's dress, each of you helping zip the others up before smoothing out your curled hair in front of the mirror.

The dress was a beautiful grey silk with a blue undertone that clung to every one of your curves, perfectly tailored to your body. Each dress was just slightly different but all had the same structure and little cape over the shoulders that was reminiscent of their Beauxbaton school uniform, a little ode to their magical roots.

"Fred will die when he sees you in that," Colette says as she appears behind you in the mirror, a smile tugging at her glossy lips as she looks at you. Her accent never failed to make you smile, hearing her try to pronounce 'Fred' in such a thick, French accent was always a little humorous to you.

"Oh hush," you say, casting one last glance at your body, smoothing out any lines in the silk.

You had to admit that you did feel incredibly sexy in the dress, though it was still modest in principle, it definitely showcased your features splendidly. Your breasts were considerably fuller than the other girls who all had slim figures and small breasts whereas you had a more hourglass figure that was openly showcased in the dress, something you knew Fred would enjoy greatly. You'd had to make adjustments to the cups of the dress multiple times in fittings as your breasts didn't fit in the same style as the others and so with a little ingenuity from the tailors, they'd adapted your dress to hold your chest a little better.

You checked the time and saw that there was still half an hour to go before the ceremony was due to begin and so you began to clear away the makeup and beauty stuff that littered the room.

Fleur's mother knocked on the door a little while later and you decided to leave them for a private moment, just Fleur, Gabrielle and their mother.

You passed Ginny as you walked down the stairs, seeing her eyebrows shoot up as she looked at you. Ginny had not been a bridesmaid, on account of her dislike for the bride. Bill hadn't been offended and truthfully neither had Fleur but you still felt a bit of guilt at being a bridesmaid at her own brothers wedding when she wasn't.

"Has Fred seen you yet?" She asks, walking in her dressing gown towards her room.

"No? Hello by the way," you replied, a little confused by her smirk but instead of replying she simply giggled and slipped through the door of her bedroom.

You hadn't expected to see anyone except Molly downstairs, knowing that the boys had been banished, but when you reached the kitchen it wasn't Molly that you saw leaning against the counter. Fred.

He was facing away from you, reading the paper from what you could see, his hip resting on the counter as he leaned down, looking devastatingly handsome, even from behind.

"What do you think?" You asked quietly, creeping into the kitchen. You didn't miss his little jump of surprise, which made you bite back a smile as he turned towards you, smirking already as it he was already planning a snarky reply.

The second he turned and saw you, his mouth opened on its own accord, jaw dropping, seeing him freeze as he openly gawked at you. You had to bite back a laugh at his reaction, seeing that it was even better than you'd hoped.

"I," he began to say before clearing his throat, his fingers doing an involuntary dance at his sides as his eyes take over you, before fixing his gaze to your breasts. "I think it's illegal to look hotter than the bride on her wedding day."

You laugh and watch as he seems to bounce back to usual, though his gaze linger a little longer on your curves before he reaches out to you. You place your hand in his and he pulls you gently towards him, delicately placing his arms around you as to not crease your dress.

"Ah, lipstick," you say, pulling away from him as he tries to kiss you, making him frown and pout at your denial of a kiss. "I promise you can mess it up after the ceremony." His eyes a little as he shoots a wicked smirk at you, his hands wandering over the soft fabric of your dress, running his hands over the curve of your waist.

"You look so beautiful," he says, smiling down at you. Even with your heels, he still towers over you with his height.

"And you look very handsome," you replied, reaching up to push his hair back from his face as you smile at each other.

"Well don't you look nice," George says, interrupting your moment, walking in with his bandage wrapped tightly around his head.

You turn and smile at him as Fred grumbles under his breath for his twin ruining the moment.

"How are you feeling Georgie?" You ask, looking at him with concern, even though it had been nearly five days since he received the unfortunate curse, you were still worried about his pain levels and him in general.

"Stable enough to walk down the aisle with you," he winks, earning another grumble from Fred. He'd been overwhelmingly annoyed at not being able to walk with you down the aisle even though he was also a groomsman but Molly had insisted on the fact, knowing it was both tradition and superstition that unmarried couples should never walk down the aisle together. Fred had instead been paired with Gabrielle, Fleur's younger sister, whilst you were paired with George, a rather unfair deal he had stated.

"I better get back," you said, your gaze flickering to the stairs, knowing that you needed to get Fleur ready for the ceremony.

"I love you," Fred says, a surprisingly sentimental tone to his voice that made you pause, his hand now holding yours as he looks at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"I love you more," you say teasingly, slowly pulling away from him as you climb the stairs once more to help the bride.

The ceremony was beautiful and the newlyweds looked utterly joyful and in love, with smiles all around. You could feel Fred's eyes on you at multiple times during the ceremony and each time without fail he would either wink at you or smile sarcastically sweetly, trying to break up the formality of the situation.

At the reception, you'd been carrying out your role as bridesmaid flawlessly, helping with gifts, chatting to guests and even helping Fleur go to the toilet in her elaborate, poofy dress. When you returned to the marquee, you could see Fred and Molly chatting in the corner and so you took a seat next to George at the table, resting your head on his shoulder as the early morning and demand of the day began catching up with you.

"Tired, maid of the bride?" George joked as he shifted down a little in his seat so that you would be able to rest your head on his shoulder without straining. You simply nodded in reply, closing your eyes for just a moment before opening them and looking around the room at everyone you loved, all of whom enjoying themselves.

"Mind if I steal my girl?" A familiar voice asks from behind you and you can't help but smile as you lift your head from George's shoulder and look up to find Fred with his hand outstretched, ready to steal you away. You place your hand in his and he leads you to the dance floor as a slow song begins to play.

"This is familiar, eh princess?" He smirks, taking your waist in his other hand as he pulls you close. "I thought nothing would ever top your Yule ball dress but you always manage to surprise me." You smile up at him and can't help but study his gorgeous features, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world in that moment. Memories of the Yule ball danced in your mind, Fred's long hair, your glittering dress and the fun you had that night making a smile erupt on your face.

"You know, when we get married I hope there's none of this crap," he says, looking around at the slightly overdone decorations, curtesy of Fleur's imagination and her father's wallet.

"When?" You asked, a little teasing smile tugging at your lips, "that's a little presumptuous don't you think Weasley?" He smirks, spinning you gently in his arms before pulling you back into his chest, holding you even closer.

"Princess I've been calling you my future wife since the moment we first met, ask George," he chuckles slightly, still rocking you in his arms. "There's no one else I would ever want to call my wife."

You smiled up at him and reached up to press a kiss to his lips in the middle of the dance floor, not caring once bit about the mass of people around you. He kisses you back immediately, also unfazed by the people around you as you sink completely into the moment, just the feel of Fred around you and the sound of the music in the background.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" He says dreamily, his hand stroking the spot on your waist where it resides.

"Not in the last hour," you tease with a smile.

"Then I must apologise, a woman as beautiful as you deserves to be told constantly."

"I think you're drunk," you say with a blush at his words and he chuckles whilst shaking his head.

"Just in love," he replies giving you a look of utter adoration that takes your breath away.

You dance for a little while with Fred before George steals you away for a dance, then Bill and then Arthur. You laugh as Arthur twirls you around, seeing Fred doing the same to Ginny not too far away from you. You'd never felt more loved and included than you did in that moment, feeling like a Weasley already. Fred eventually steals you back from his dad as a more rambunctious song comes on and you dance wildly around the dance floor between both the twins, no longer caring about holding your composure or ruining your dress as you fling your arms about, jumping around with the younger guests.

You couldn't help but tease Fred as the night carries on, dancing a little more provocatively as the upbeat music continues, swinging your hips as you dance. You lightly grind against him acting as if it was an accident at first but he soon realises exactly what you're doing, his hands coming up to grip your hips hard as he stands behind you and leans down to talk in your ear so you'd hear him over the music.

"I know what you're doing princess," he says breathily in your ear, pressing his crotch tightly to your backside. Apparently your little deviant plan was working as you felt his semi-excited member pressed against you which made you smirk.

You soon around and Fred immediately places his arms around you, caging you into his body.

"Want to sneak away?" You said quietly with a little devilish smirk as you flirt with him, "you know, I won't be able to get out of this dress all by myself."

"Let's go princess," he says with a little smirk, patting your bum twice before taking your hand and leading you out of the tent back towards the house. You looked around you, checking that no one was watching but it all truthfulness you couldn't care less.

The house was still deserted when you entered, with all the other family members and guests still partying outside. Fred stopped at the base of the stairs as you began to bunch up the bottom of your dress to climb the mountain of stairs and suddenly lurched at you, picking you up bridal style earning a little surprised squeak from you and a chuckle from him.

He attempted to kiss you whilst you were in his arms and ascending the stairs but you quickly put an end to it, knowing that he'd most likely bang your head on one of the many wooden banisters or worse due to being distracted. As soon as you stepped through the door to his and George's room, he slammed the door shut with his leg, still carrying you as he went to throw you on the bed, briefly muttering a silencing charm before he turns his attention back to you. He wasted no time and crawled on top of you, pausing only briefly to take in the sight of you all dressed up and sprawled out on his bed before he captured you in a delicious kiss.

The kiss deepened immediately with Fred's tongue swiping at your lip, his hands already running over your curves, teasing both himself and you as he puts off touching you in the places you desperately want him to. His kisses begin to extend down your neck, towards your collarbones as you heave out a calming breath, already feeling wonderfully overwhelmed by the sensations. He kisses over your clothes breasts and a flick switches in you, needing to feel his lips everywhere without obstruction. He apparently feels exactly the same and begins fumbling at the little zipper on the side of the dress.

You untie the little cape and let that open wide, waiting for Fred to do the last little clasp which you knew he'd enjoy. You reach for his hand and pull it towards the little clasp in between your breasts which he opens in no time, watching as your naked breasts spill out of the dress, not having been able to wear a bra all day. He curses under his breath as he looks at your bare breasts and you take the time to slide the rest of the fabric down your torso so that you're left in just your lace panties.

"Godric you're beautiful," he says more to himself than anything as he looks over your body before his gaze flicks up to you and he smiles before diving it for another kiss. His hand that he isn't bearing weight on comes up to massage and toy with your breasts and you can't help but run your fingers through his hair, trying to get his mouth where you want it. He senses what you want and immediately begins feasting on your tits, licking and sucking as your sensitive nipples which had you gasping and writhing almost immediately.

You begin pulling as his collar, desperate to get him naked too as you push him, flipping him over so that he was lay flat on the bed. You crawl to straddle him and you don't miss the glimmer in his eyes as your almost naked body climbs over his, breasts swaying as you begin to suck at his neck, making him moan.

You pop open the buttons on his collar, pulling off his tie and open up each individual button, placing a kiss on the newly exposed skin as you make your way down his torso, thankful that he'd taken off his jacket and waistcoat earlier in the night. You almost ripped the shirt off him as soon as the last button was done and you ran your fingers over his gorgeous chest and shoulders, running down his stomach until you reached his little happy trail.

You moved down on the bed so that you were face to face with his crotch and began opening the fastenings of his trousers, pulling them over his hips and down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers, the outline of his impressive length clearly visible. You placed a kiss to his cock through his underwear and heard him groan, knowing he was watching your every move.

You looked up at him and saw his intense gaze, making you smirk as you tugged at the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, his excited length springing out and falling onto his lower belly as you tug away the underwear, discarding them across the room. The sight of him bare before you, his perfect cock already hard and leaking was enough to make your mouth water and you couldn't help but lean down and press a few fluttering kisses along his length, feeling it twitch against your lips in excitement.

Maintaining eye contact with Fred, you gave him your sexiest look and leant down further to take his cock into your mouth, licking all the way around the sensitive tip as you tasted him. He groaned and shoved his head back against the bed at the sensation as you took more and more of him into your mouth, running your tongue along the veined underside of his cock to extend his pleasure. As you began to bob slowly on his cock, you were rewarded with loud groans and curses of your name from Fred, his cock only hardening further in your mouth.

"Godric princess, your mouth is fucking perfect," he groans in bliss.

Your hand came up to support your ministrations as you began to pump the few inches you weren't sucking, running your hands over his balls and giving them a very gentle tug like he liked, all of which making him writhe and groan.

"Princess, get up here," he says, suddenly reaching his hand out for you. You kisses his tip one last time before crawling up his body, his hands immediately reaching for you as he pulls you into him, one hand cupping your jaw as he pulls you in for a sinful kiss.

"Merlin," he says, pulling away as he runs a hand over his face, "you have no idea what these little white panties are doing to me."

"Do they make me look innocent?" You ask with a little smile, kissing down his jaw, eliciting another breathy moan from Fred.

"Yeah, but it's like you're the bride, making me lose it picturing it being our wedding night," he admits, his hands gripping you tighter in his hold, one large hand cupping and massaging your bum covered by the white lace. Your eyes widen a little in surprise, though he doesn't see, as you take in his words.

"That get you going big boy?" You ask breathily in his ear, still nibbling at his jaw as your hands explore his chest, briefly catching his nipples as you roam. "Picturing me as your bride? You like the idea of fucking your new wife?" He curses and moans, hips surging at your words, answering your question.

"Fuck baby," he whines as your hand wraps around his cock and begins slowly pumping him, your thumb catching the beads of precum and rubbing it into his soft tip.

"Maybe you like the idea of ripping off my sweet, appropriate little wedding dress and seeing exactly what's underneath."

He moans louder than you remembering ever being as your speed increases, your words having an evident affect on him.

"Or is it that everyone would know how good you're fucking your new wife, that everyone would know that I belong to you?" His hips start to stutter and you know he won't last much longer, the mixture of your hand on his cock and the words in his ear almost too much for him as he nods along with you, whining and groaning.

"Mrs Fred Weasley does sound good don't you think?" You ask him with a little smug smile at how he curses, hands scrambling to touch your tits as you pump him. "Y/n Weasley, Fred's wife." He's so close you can almost taste it, knowing he's just need a little nudge with the game you were playing.

"You wanna pretend it's our wedding night? I'll let you do anything you want to me husband, let you fuck everything that's yours."

He moans loudly as his hips stutter, your hand working his quickly as your other hand cups his balls as he erupts, ropes of cum spurting from his cock and landing on his stomach as you pump him through his orgasm, not stopping until his body stops twitching. He's breathless as he comes down from his high, chest heaving as a look of bliss falls over his face.

"Merlin," he says, finally opening his eyes to look at you, seeing your wicked little smirk. "Fuck that was hot." You smile as you reach down to grab his shirt from the floor, wiping his pleasure from his abdomen before throwing it back down onto the floor.

"Now, I think it's time I looked after my bride don't you think?" He says with a wicked grin, hands already pawing at you as he cups your jaw, pulling you into another kiss, his other hand creeping over your curves as he suddenly pushes you down onto the bed. His mouth wastes no time in pleasing you, immediately latching back into your breasts as he goes all out, grabbing, toying and sucking your breasts, never leaving the other one left out.

His fingers begin to drift down your body and tease your inner thighs as your legs part in anticipation, your arousal dripping from you at this point. When Fred's fingers finally slip between your legs and he feels the abundant wetness of your panties he curses again, latching onto your nipple and giving a harsh suck making you gasp.

"Mrs Weasley, so wet for me," he says with a smirk, slipping one finger inside your panties and into your waiting hole. You moan out at the sensation, feeling his thumb come up to toy with your aching clit and you can't help but roll your hips, unable to keep still as his fingers work you perfectly. "So good baby, so fucking perfect."

"Freddie," you keen as he adds a second finger, adjusting his angle so that he can press up against your gspot, making you writhe against him. The panties restrict his movements but it doesn't seem to faze him, working his magic on you.

He suddenly pulls his hand from you, making you whine but he quickly grabs and spins you on the bed so that you're on your hands and knees, his ability to manhandle you so effortlessly only furthering your arousal.

He moved to stand behind you, pulling you towards the edge of the bed as his fingers toy with the white lace panties you're still wearing. His hands hook into the waistband and you feel him rip off your panties, pulling them right down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. You gasp as the cool air hits your sensitive pussy lips and within seconds his mouth is on you, feasting deliciously on your dripping cunt.

"Freddie!" You moan, pushing your hips back as his tongue slips between your lips, lapping as your clit before slipping into your little hole. His entire face is pressed against your pussy and you can hardly contain your moans as you feel his mouth playing you like an instrument. His tongue circles your clit before he sucks on it in little bursts, making your hips writhe against his face. He alternates between sucking and licking, covering himself in your arousal before he suddenly pulls open your ass and really dives into your pussy, locking his lips around your clit and sucking, tongue circling the little bud.

"Fred!" You shout as you cum, hips rolling over his face as he laps at you over and over in just the right spot, letting you ride out your pleasure.

Your orgasm has done nothing to calm your arousal, if anything it's only spurred on a further need for Fred as you turn and drag him down onto the bed with you, kissing him feverishly as you feel the signs of his arousal renewed against your leg.

"Freddie, fuck your wife," you say, dragging a breathy moan and a curse from his lips as your hands reach out for him in anyway you can get him, hips raising up in desperation.

"I've got you sweetheart," he reassures you as he kisses you one last time before reaching down to kiss your nipples, hands lifting your legs, seeing you beautifully exposed before him. "My perfect girl, so fucking hot."

"Yeah you got a hot little wife Freddie?" You tease, knowing that your words would only fuel his fire.

"The fucking hottest," he growls, pumping his cock twice before positioning himself right at your entrance.

"Give it to me good Freddie, only you can fuck your wife so good like this."

He curses and grabs hold of his cock, tossing your legs into his shoulders as you feel him slowly sink into you, stretching you out as he gets deeper and deeper. You both moan in unison as he moves his hips, hitting all the right spots inside you before he begins to pick up his pace, big hands holding your thighs tightly. He watches as your breasts begin to bounce in time with his thrusts and you can't help but raise your arms up to grab hold of the metal headboard so you can get leverage to raise your hips in time with his, letting the last inch of his sink into you.

"Yeah you like that sweetheart? Your husband fucking you good? Fuck you are so tight," he says, eyes flicking between your breasts and watching his cock disappear into your pussy.

"So good Freddie," you moan out, arching your back as he pounds into you. "Only you can fuck me this good." You right hand slips off the bed frame and you start to circle your clit for a little extra pleasure until Fred notices and bats your hand away.

"Dirty girl, your husband not taking care of you good enough? Is my big cock not enough for you?" He teases.

You begin to whimper in reply, "no it is, so good baby."

He immediately pulls out of you and flips you over like it's nothing, pulling your hips up slightly before he slams back into you. He takes no prisoners with his thrusting as you feel his balls slapping against you, his left hand gripping your hip so hard it'll almost certainly leave a bruise. His right hand snakes around your hip abs begins toying with your clit deliciously and you can't help but rock your hips, your insides clenching around Fred's thick length as you cry out.

"Oh Freddie!" You cry out, feeling thoroughly fucked as he slams into you. "You're so deep!"

"Come on my little perfect wife, I want you to cum all over your husbands cock," he says, leaning down and changing the angle slightly so that he rubs against your gspot making a silent scream erupt from you. The hand that was holding your hip suddenly shifts and he wraps it around your throat as he fucks into you with abandon, his hips stuttering just enough that you know he's close. His hand doesn't squeeze nor put any pressure on but just feeling his long fingers wrapped around your throat whilst he plays with your clit and pounds into you is enough to send you hurling towards your end.

"Freddie Freddie Freddie!" You chant as you cum, nails clawing into the bedsheets as you feel the white hot pleasure erupt within you, your hips rolling back onto his cock as he pounds you even harder, no doubt feeling your walls squeezing him. He suddenly lets go of your throat and scrambles to grab hold of your hips as he slams his length into you once more and holds you tightly to him, buried entirely in you as he cums. You can feel his cock twitching inside you as he shoots his load as deep in you as he can, groaning and cursing behind you as your name falls from his lips.

After a few moments, he pulls out and watches as his cum begins to dribble out of you, cursing once again at the sight. You feel him shift and he presses a kiss to your back before carefully shifting you so that you were lying on the bed as he slips in next to you, instinctively reaching to pull you into his side.

You lean up and kiss him as his arms snake around you, one hand resting gently over your breast, thumb idly passing over your nipple.

"I love you so much sweetheart," he says, pulling off your lips but never really moving away as he kisses you again.

"I love you Freddie," you say, pouring as much love as you can into your words.

"Gonna marry you one day princess," he mumbles and you can suddenly hear the tiredness in his voice.

"If you're gonna fuck me like that again, I'd marry you right now," you said breathlessly, entwining your fingers with his.

He chuckles, squeezing your hand in his as his eyes close, "give me 10."

"I want to be your wife one day," you say quietly a few moments later, no longer teasing. You feel Fred's eyes open and he looks at you with a look you can't place.

"Sweetheart, nothing would make me happier than you being my wife, but stop talking about it before I get hard again."

#emeritusemeritus #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #emeritusemerituswrites #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #Fred Weasley smut

2K notes · View notes

imogenlefay · 1 year ago

Link

Chapters: 7/25 Fandom: Glee Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe Characters: Blaine Anderson, Sebastian Smythe Additional Tags: Christmas Compilation, The Great Seblaine Christmas Extravaganza, Fluff and Sweetness, Occasional hurt/comfort, probably, But mostly fluff Summary:

A collection of Christmas-themed oneshots about Seblaine.

#glee #seblaine #fic #the great seblaine christmas extravaganza #blaine anderson #sebastian smythe #yet another future fic #in yet another different universe #colette says hi #sebastian is a menace around an oven #day 7: christmas cookies

2 notes · View notes

turning-paiges · 4 months ago

Text

I hope that next episode we go the whole episode waiting for Freddy to announce his new character, everyone's getting all excited, who's it gonna be? what famous female celebrity is going to get her name hijacked today? only for him to say that he's playing Tony Colette again. The 12 year old from Italy fucking lived, and he's back as an assassin in Peachyville motherfucker

#dndads #the peachyville horror #tony collette dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads s3

226 notes · View notes

wanderingcas · 8 days ago

Text

in 10.22 the prisoner when cas says "dean. stop." and the MUSIC dean's theme played by a CELLO a CELLO comes on?? swelling sad grieving romantic CELLO?? just as cas says the words that colette said to cain?? are you kidding me?? and then dean beats him within an inch of his life?? sees him in the mirror later and can't ever forgive himself?? my stomach hurts!! this fucking show!!

#destiel #SCREECHING AT THE MOON!!!!!

92 notes · View notes

heartlaboratory · 9 months ago

Text

In the short movie represented, taken from the university archive, you can look at a curious experiment that took place in the firs years of the '900, when physiologist were working on the relationship between electricity and the human body. A brief report accompanies the movie. Colette De La Beatrix was the countess of a small town called "Holy Lady in the Countryside", she was married to a professor of that time. Unfortunately at the age of 32 she suffered a terrible accident while riding her horse. She was embossed down from the saddle and the horse stomped her right in the center of her chest, destroying the frontal part of her rib cage. She was saved miraculously by the university's surgeon that had to remove her sternum leaving her most vital organ covered only by a thin layer of skin. Usually she wore an iron plate to cover and protect her exposed heart. Her husband convinced her to take advantage of the events and participate in his studies about electrophysiology. She happily took part to them and once results were gathered they decided to show them to the other professors and film the experiment. The movie starts with the countess sitting on a woodden bench. her entire chest is exposed and the shape of her beating heart is clearly visible. A rudimental microphone, linked to a gramophone, is held by a belt on the center of her chest and picks up her heartbeat. Two electrodes are attached on the oppiside sides of her heart linking the organ with what was probably a battery. The report is divided into different parts:

Initial- Countess initial heart rate: 85 bpm Showing the audience her condition and her synus rhythm at rest. Single electrical pulses are charged on her heart to demonstrate electricity can start artificial systoles. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse to further proove the experiment effectiveness. This part ends with a note hand-written. "remember to tell the audience to never directly touch her heart to avoid dangerous ahrrythmias".

Part 2- Artificial pacing at 120bpm The machine delivers a series of consecutive impulses to create an artificial rhythm. The countess's heart reacts to each pulse correctly contracting in a new manually-induced pace. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse under the influence of the continuous pulses. NOTE: After the pulses are interrupted the countess' heart recovers its initial pace immediately.

Part 3- Reaching physiological limit, 187bpm To demonstrate total control on the countess' heart rhythm the heart is artificially paced at her maximum heart rate (220 - her age 32). electrical pacing can realize the same results as a strenuous physical effort. The battery completely bypassed her local pacemaker. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse and look at her beating heart. NOTE: Frank and Starling were right, the artificial rhythm seems hard to sustain for her system. The fast her heart gets the less efective its beating becomes. NOTE2: Her heart takes some long pauses in order to recover.

Part 4- Beyond physiological limits 240bpm The domain over her natural pacemaker is so absolute that its natural limit can be higly bypassed. The heart is paced at an innatural rhythm. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse and look at her beating heart. NOTE: Audience report that just a very tiny wave of blood can be felt at her neck after each heart contraction. NOTE2: The countess's heart seems unable to follow each electrical pulse as some dyastoles seem abolished in a tetanus like manner. NOTE3: The procedure is interrupted as the countess lost consciousness for a brief period of time. NOTE4: Once the machine is turned off a long period of asystole is seen with subsequent ahrrythmias after the spontaneous pulsation restarted. Heart exhaustion? another hand-written part: "I should have never tried this on my wife"

What the report doesn't says is that countess Colette De La Beatrix died of sudden cardiac arrest few days late.

#cardiophile #cardiophilia #female heartbeat #heartbeat #dark cardiophilia

268 notes · View notes

a-fatal-word · 2 months ago

Text

I saw the Theatre Du Châtelet production of Les Miserables, and here's a rundown wyth my thoughts:

In the Prologue, the first set of prisoners are on a boat, then a second group is brought in to help move it. I loved this direction, as we see the physical feats they are forced to do. Valjean is brought on separately to these groups. Guards also beat the men, conveying the aggression of this environment which impacts Valjean’s character.

Part of the set is a ramp up stage left, which gets used a lot. During the Runaway Cart scene, we actually see the cart go down the hill and fall on Fauchelevent and the actor really milks it, it's brilliant. The set has these two huge curved pieces, which are used to create multiple settings, plus box sets which helps separate different locations.

Claire Perot is a perfect Fantine, we understand her immediately. She is watched by all the men in the factory, which she's aware of but hasn't grown hardened as a protection. She's so vulnerable and clearly uncomfortable with the attention. I really enjoyed the 'J'avais Reve' ('I Dreamed a Dream') lyrics, and Perot's delivery of the line about Cosette being close to dying was PERFECTLY delivered. She stopped to take the moment, and it was the best I've ever seen it done. My favourite Fantine, maybe even including the film adaptations I've seen.

The pimp comes on with Bamatabois and has the lines with the sex worker that in the English version says 'only joking, deary knows her place'. When Javert arrests Fantine, the other sex workers start towards her but stop, clearly on her side but unable to stand up to Javert. This asserts the dynamic between these men, who always have more power in the situation, and the powerless women.

Champmathieu and two guards walk in from of Valjean during 'Le Proces' ('Who Am I'), so he sees whose life his decision will impact. It's a shame the actors look nothing alike, I feel like they could've given the actor portraying Champmathieu a beard 😂

I preferred the 'Une Poupee Dans la Vitrine' lyrics to 'Castle on a Cloud' lyrics, they're so much more specific to her experience as she dreams of playing with the doll Catherine. love that she sings about Catherine. I wish that the Catherine that Valjean gives her was bigger, though, it more resembles the size of a doll you would buy today instead of the large doll of the novel. Her broom is literally twice her size though, it's a perfect staying to reflect the famous artwork of Cosette sweeping.

The Sergeant of Waterloo Inn is a box set which covers half the width of the stage so you can see the snow outside behind this set piece, which really makes it seem that the inn is bursting with people. This really highlights how far the Thenardiers fall. We see Cosette and Valjean meet in the space away from the set, which is cold and isolated.

These Thenardiers feel genuinely dangerous; they're funny but there's less playing up to the audience. They dress similarly to the rest of the cast, but there's always something out of place. For example, in Maitre Thenardier (Master of the House), Thenardier's outfit is identical to an ensemble member's, but then his hair is unusually styled compared to the rest of the casts'. During the wedding, everyone wears black and white (white dresses and black suits), whilst the Thenardiers arrive in black and white striped outfits. It's like they try to fit in, but they're always off. I also enjoyed that the Patron Minette are in Maitre Thenardier, backing up Thenardier as he over charges someone (his wife has a go at him in a nice touch of ensemble work). It's like they're mates who then went into crime together. The 'Colette' line also remains.

During the confrontation, which happens whilst the nuns are present, Javert whacks out a giant gun which he points at the nuns, after that the nuns throw a bucket at him. When I say I DIED.

This Grantaire isn't the Grantaire we know, he's way too optimistic and put together. When he first started singing, I thought he might be Prouvaire or Courfeyrac and they'd given one of those characters those lines! It made me think that having Courfeyrac make fun of Marius would be so much fun, they'd get to have a bit more of a relationship there, and Courfeyrac could keep his snarkiness from the novel. But I still enjoyed his performance. This Grantaire still makes fun of Marius in jest, but he is as passionate as Enjolras and can easily jump into action mode. Their dynamic slightly resembles Achilles and Patroclus' in Madeline Miller's novel, in that Enjolras and Achilles are focused and charismatic, whereas this Grantaire, like Patroclus, jumps in to help the wounded. His protection of Gavroche is there, and Gavroche sings his final lines to Grantaire, before falling into his arms dead (Gavroche throws the bag of ammunition over before stumbling back to their side of the barricade with his hand clutching his stomach, resembling Eponine's demise).

The costumes for everyone are stunning. Fantine's deshevelled look is gorgeous and Javert has an incredible black leather coat. Enjolras wears a gorgeous slightly orange toned red coat, then a red striped waistcoat at the barricade, whilst Grantaire is in a green suit, with a top hat in the early Musain scenes.

In 'Bonjour Paris' ('Look Down - Paris') we see a group of middle class men walking to the front of the stage, surrounded by the poor they appear disgusted by, whom we are encouraged to judge.

Minor characters portrayed by the ensemble are given chances to shine, and this production really feels like it is presenting a society, as the novel does. A father and daughter appear in Paris, and this father then joins the revolution. He kisses his wife goodbye as she leaves the barricade, and it's heartbreaking when we see his corpse when they are defeated. We also see a member of the ensemble listen in to Javert's confession to Valjean when he has suspicions that he's an ex-convict. This moment especially evokes the small town attitude of Montreuil-sur-Mer in the novel.

Stanley Kassa's Enjolras is one of the best I've ever seen. He's commanding, serious, and clearly empathetic; having told Courfeyrac to keep watch whilst Valjean sings 'Comme un Homme' ('Bring Him Home'), he also keeps watch, and a couple of times looks back to watch over his sleeping comrades. You can really see that he has a lot going on internally, and is reflecting on the previous day and what is to come. Before sending the fathers and women home, he does this sigh to himself, and lets us in on the inner torment and regret that the people didn't join them. Kassa also dies leaning back off the barricade with his arms out, and he keeps them there until the barricade is removed, which is impressive given the time he has to keep this position for.

In 'Dans ma Vie' ('In my Life'), there are bars to the garden stage left, then bars projected on a screen in front of the set, so Cosette actually feels boxed in and isolated from the outside world in her garden.

Cosette telling Valjean about the 'four men scheming' (replacing 'three men I saw beyond the wall' makes more sense. She and Marius actually see the end of the Eponine, Thenardier and Patron Minette scene, so she tells Valjean as she has reason to worry.

They make the decision to have the barricade rise outside the Musain rather than the Corinthe, probably to simplify things. This also creates an emotional link, as they dream of creating a new world and it's next to that space that they try to achieve that new world.

This production's Prouvaire has a beautiful openness as a performer, he carries a little book on the barricade which feels very apt.

After the defeat, two national guardsmen, plus Javert, survey the barricade, which is covered in the dead, making them face up to what they have done. We also have the national guard giving the orders at the back of stage, visible through the barricade.

'Le Suicide de Javert' ('Javert's Suicide') is heart stopping; he is on top of one of the large set pieces and towards of the song is raised higher. His death is achieved by falling back 90 degrees and the screen in front shows a projection of him falling in slow motion into the Seine. This production takes place 5 minutes from the Seine, which really hits you in this moment.

'Seul Devant ces Tables Vides' ('Empty Chairs at Empty Tables') is done with projections of shadows on the Musain set, which is a wooden piece stage right. Of course we see Grantaire drinking, recognisable as the shadow with the top hat.

'Tourne Tourne' ('Turning') is performed as the moment the families have to identify the dead, such a unique staging choice.

When things get awkward at the wedding, the master of ceremonies asks the 'Maestra' to play a specific song. When things get awkward again when the Thenardiers are eating all the food, Thenardier tries the same thing and asks the 'Maestro' for a song (there was a joke were he said something that wasn't a song, but I can't remember what). The Musical Director is then revealed upstage when she corrects him that's she's a 'Maestra', which got a big clap.

Eponine doesn't duet with Fantine in the Finale until later than usual, so we get a beautiful scene between Fantine and Valjean where she puts his hand on the book before he gives it to Cosette.

Once Valjean dies, he gets to greet everyone in death, included Myriel, who he hugs, and Javert, who he shakes hands with. And Enjolras, who feels very central to this production. He's used a lot in the trailer and Stanley Kassa has the most amazing charisma, you really root for him.

Overall, I loved this production. A lot of the lyrics are tell the novel's story more explicitly and are still poetic at times. I especially loved Fantine's lyrics, and it's so refreshing to see a different take on the material visually. I really hope this production gets a longer life, and I'm so glad we have an album with this cast. They all have golden voices, especially Oceane Demontis as Eponine. I also have to shout out Juliette Artigala for her portrayal of Cosette, I thought she was so endearing.

#les miserables #les mis #Theatre Du Châtelet

113 notes · View notes