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here are my recommendations of tv shows, movies and books that gives me the 'bridgerton vibe' (set in period/regency eras) and will hopefully sustain you until s2 drops
(feel free to reblog with your own recommendations!)
watch:
Emma, [2020] josh o'connor is iconic in this
Pride & Prejudice [2005] pretty self explanatory
Bride & Prejudice [2004] pride and prejudice but make it indian, elijah from the originals is wickham!
Mr Malcolmâs List [2022]
The Musketeers [2014-16] BBC TV series, the best musketeers adaptation in my opinion, fun fact- phoebe stars in an episode!
Sanditon [2019-] I personally don't like this but a lot of people in this fandom have mentioned this :/
Rosaline [2022]- the pov from romeoâs ex (as in romeo and juliet) also enemies to loversđ¤
Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Gham [2001]- the title track for this movie will be in s2 and itâs my all time fav bollywood movie! Available on Netflix!
read:
bringing down the duke-[evie dunmore]- annabelle archer is one of the first female students at oxford uni but in return for her scholarship she must recruit men to champion the rising women's suffrage movement-she targets sebastian devereux: cold, calculating and the most powerful duke in england, tropes-sunshine & grumpy, forced proximity
a rogue of one's own- [evie dunmore], lady lucie and her band of oxford suffragists are prepping for a coup against parliament but the one person standing in the way is her old nemesis and london's lord of sin- lord ballentine, tropes- childhood enemies/rivals to lovers, friends with benefits, boss & employee
portrait of a scotsman- [evie dunmore], harriet finds herself on the altar with her father's business rival, lucian blackstone, tropes- sunshine and grumpy, marriage of convenience, one bed trope
to have and to hoax-[martha waters] estranged married couple, violet finds out her husband james was in an accident, rushes to be by his side only to find out he's perfectly fine and he's baffled by her concern! outraged, she decides to feign an illness to teach him a lesson and chaos ensues, tropes- married enemies to lovers
to love and to loathe-[martha waters] diana and jeremy are well known for their bickering as for their flirtation, jeremy comes to diana with a proposal when he finds out his last mistress wasn't satisfied with him in bed, he asks for diana's help⌠(enemies to frenemies to lovers/frenemies with benefits)
to marry and to meddle [martha waters] lady emily turner should be married by now but her father's debts as her dowry doesn't seem very appealing to suitors, lord julian belfry has managed to scandalise society with his acting career and owns a less than salubrious theatre, they both decide to enter a marriage of convenience- she provides him promo for his theatre and won't have to marry a creep to help her father, tropes- marriage of convenience
truce:the historic neighbour from hell-r.l mathewson, elizabeth and robert are childhood enemies, fast forward years later, they meet at a party and don't recognise each other, after having sex in the garden of a ball, they are introduced to each other again, chaos ensues involving pregnancy and a marriage of convenience.
the heiress gets a duke-[harper st james] american heiress august crenshaw wants to head her family's business but society refuses, her younger sister is offered up to the highest bidder, evan sterling, duke of rothschild, as august is deemed unsuitable for her progressive ways! evan refuses to back down from this marriage as he needs the money that marrying a crenshaw heiress will bring but after meeting her fiery sister, he realises that violet is the sister he wants, violet refuses to let her sister get married to evan and pulls every trick possible to call off the wedding, (this is literally kathony!!)
mr malcolmâs list-[suzanne allain] think john tucker must die meets regency. jeremy has a long list of requirements that a woman must meet to be deemed suitable as his wife, selina is invited that her friend julia invited her to london until she learns its to plot revenge on mr malcolmâŚ
It's me, the SMF anon (not being anon this time đ)
I was so excited to find out who the inspiration behind that sweet fic was!! When I read that it was Trix I was really happy :)) he's really underrated and super attractive so the first thing I did was go back to the fic and read it again with him in my mind đ such a sweet fic I can't!!
I was really happy seeing you being excited in that answer so pls don't apologize for TMI or anything like that bc I'll gladly listen to that anytime :)) <3
The fact that there's only like (not even) a handful of SMF fics is just so sad like I'd absolutely love to read more fics.. so yeah, I was really happy to find out it was an SMF/Trix x reader (I mean kind of lol bc in the end it was optional x reader but like the fact that he was your inspiration behind it is more than enough for me and I'll absolutely take what I can get đ)
Honestly, I'd be more than happy if you ever write again for any of them :)) just saying ofc! I don't want to be annoying :// (sorry for writing so much btw đ)
Thank you for that fic and I hope you're doing well!! <3
hellooo â¤ď¸
yes omg please do go back and read with trix in mind if you want! the specific look i had imagined with him was when he had longish black hair a while ago.. you know the one he kept on smf during copy choreography mission practice?? yeah that one!
and i pictured him in the white t shirts he alw likes to wear too! (i know he wears them a lot because he needs stretchy shirts to accommodate his tricks, but - the material just always looks so soft and cuddly to me!) like every time he wears them i wanna drag his ass to the nearest mattress and CUDDLE THAT BOY FR !!
sorry i got carried away agn but i hope that helps you picture specifically what i was going for when i wrote! more info below the cut!
yes i do have a another one inspired by trix in the works! i'm a primekingz and banktwo fan - but the only person from smf i'm currently comfortable writing for is trix, and even then i'd prefer to write optional bias rather than specify him!
but then again, that's the beauty of optional bias fics - you can picture whoever you want yourself <3
my next one will be optional bias too, but i hope you get joy from it the way you did with this one!! thank you so much for interacting with me, and for supporting my work â¤ď¸
I read this fic of yours not long ago (loved it btw!!) and I was just wondering what dancer exactly inspired you to write it? Since you said that a dancer was the inspiration behind it.. I was just curious bc I love smf and you had smf in the tags :)) (you can just ignore this ofc if you'd rather not say who!!)
hello nonnie! yes it was a smf dancer - i've been diligently watching mnet's dance series since SWF aired last year! i'm a huge simp for the guy i thought of when i was writing this, but he also doesn't have much of a fanbase internationally and might not be considered conventionally handsome - so i was scared of using his actual name in the tags thinking it might be a turnoff to some...
but okay here goes drumroll please....
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
it was trix!!
i'm a giant simp for him - he's actually insanely attractive to me and he's absolutely my ideal type!
thank you for asking and taking interest in my fic,, and thanks for reading it too! big loveđ
sorry for the insane amount of tmi i'm just happy to find another smf enjoyer! feel free to visit my askbox againâ¤ď¸
Jeonghan holds his breath as he stands next to you at the foot of the bed, singular, praying you wonât yell at him.
âJeonghan,â you begin placidly, âWhy is there only one bed? I thought you were requesting two.â
Oh fuck, heâs in trouble.
âUmm, so, the thing is,â he starts, âthe Honeymoon Suite only comes with one bed, and I thought it would be too suspicious to ask for a cot, so I thought we could just⌠share?â
You nod, biting your lips between your teeth and heaving your suitcase up onto the coverlet.
Jeonghan just stands there, unsure of what to do with your non-reaction, and waits for the scolding to start.
You glance at him, unzipping your suitcase and starting to unpack, seemingly confused as to why heâs not doing the same.
âCan I have the window side? And most of the closet?â you ask absentmindedly, sorting through your outfits and laying out what needs to be hung.
Jeonghan nods slowly, his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he tries to figure out your game. Youâre already in the closet, grabbing hangers and trying to organize your clothes into day and nightwear so Jeonghan starts unpacking too, still suspicious of your lack of anger.
He really expected more of a reaction, considering you have a weird thing about being close to him. Itâs not that you donât like touching, because all of your friends are lovey-dovey with you, and itâs not that you donât like him, because heâs your best friend. Itâs just that you donât like when he touches you, or stands close to you, or slings an arm around your shoulders, or weaves his arm through the loop yours makes when your hand is in your pocket.
It used to hurt his feelings, and it honestly still stings a bit, but maybe youâve made some progress if youâre okay sharing a bed with him?
Jeonghan doesnât know, but he does know that the dresses youâre hanging up are ones heâs never seen before, made of silk and velvet and satin, greens and purples and reds that will look beautiful with your complexion.
Youâve always dressed for yourself, but these are far from your usual style and he wonders where and when you got them, and why heâs never seen them on you before.
Heâs not naive enough to think theyâre for him, and figures you must have gone on a little spree after he told you of his plan.
Youâd thought he was kidding when he brought it up, pretending to be newlyweds so you could get a room upgrade, but it seemed foolproof to him, and completely worth it. You took some warming up, nervous about how convincing you could be, and he fears youâre still not completely on board.
He canât blame you, itâs a bit risky and slightly dishonest and youâll have to pretend to be a couple in the hotel, but youâre best friends, how hard can it be?
Very hard, apparently.
Jeonghanâs not used to you being so touchy, so handsy, with him, and he has to hold in a shiver every time your hand brushes his arm at the concierge desk. Youâre working out dinner reservations, beach bag leaning against the desk and skin smelling faintly of sunscreen, your melodic voice kindly asking for recommendations in town. Jeonghan practices deep breathing at your side, wondering why heâs suddenly so aware of you, and tries not to gasp when you lean your head into his shoulder and tell the employee that he has a few dietary issues the staff should be aware of.
Jeonghanâs shocked youâre taking charge like this, usually you let him make the decisions and do the talking, but itâs like youâre different here.
You look different too, radiant and glowing and stylish in your travel set, and when you tug him away from the desk, he realizes heâd zoned out staring at you.
He does that sometimes, looks at you and lets his mind run, so you donât question it, just pull him by the hand through the lobby and stop in front of the beach trolley line.
Itâs a beautiful day, and Jeonghan canât wait to get to the water.
He doubts youâll join him; youâll probably stay under the umbrella and read your book like always, and heâll go out to the waves for a while and come back to shake his hair out right next to you just to hear your squeal at the cold water hitting your skin. Itâs a tradition heâs kept up since your first beach day, only then heâd brought a whole bucket of sea water to pour over you.
It didnât go well, and he spent the rest of the day trying to get you to smile at him again.
Buying you ice cream was what did the trick, and ever since then itâs been his go to fix for whenever he fucks up.
The trolley pulls up and Jeonghan lets you board first, taking the bag from you and storing it overhead before plopping down next to you with a sigh.
He already feels a bit tired and considers for once staying with you under the umbrella, wonders if youâd be willing to read to him and maybe run your fingers through his hair like you do sometimes when heâs sad.
Heâs not sad now, but itâs so soothing and itâs one of the few ways you let him get close to you, and he canât think of anything better than your voice in his ears and your fingers in his hair with the sound of waves crashing in the background.
The trolley bounces over a pothole and he bumps sideways into you, noticing for the first time the lack of seatbelts and wrapping his arm around your shoulders to hold you secure to him. Oddly enough, you allow it and even lean into his side, resting your head in the crook of his neck and sighing.
Jeonghan can feel your eyelashes flutter against his skin and something else flutters in his stomach, something warm and unfamiliar. He doesnât hate the feeling but he canât say he loves it, and he would try to figure out the source if the trolley wasnât currently pulling up to the beach club. The water looks so inviting, clear and blue and beautiful, and the beach is dotted with umbrellas and loungers, employees with drink trays weaving in and out of the clusters of guests.
Jeonghan shoots up out of his seat, jostling you, and apologizes with gentle hands and a grimace before lifting the bag from the overhead storage and grabbing your hand to tug you off the trolley.
You allow it, giggling at how he speeds up once his shoes touch sand, and that weird fluttering starts up again. Jeonghan ignores it, decides itâs just not important right now, and pulls you to what he deems the best lounger duo on all the beach.
Youâre dozing under the umbrella when Jeonghan returns from the water. He considers waking you up with his traditional wet dog shake, but you look too peaceful, too content. Your headâs tilted to the side, open book resting on your chest, and your knees are pulled up like youâd tried to curl up on the lounger. He wonders if youâre cold, then sees your form shiver a bit when another ocean breeze brushes over your skin so he unrolls his towel and gently drapes it over you. A sigh escapes you and you turn to the side, your book starting to shift off your chest before Jeonghan catches it and slides your bookmark in, storing it safely in the beach bag for when you wake up. He knows he could go back out to the water, but for some reason he feels weird thinking about leaving you alone and asleep in an unfamiliar place, so he settles in for his own nap, letting his eyes fall closed and ignoring the way he canât seem to turn his head away from you.
Jeonghan is starving when he wakes up, and suspiciously warm. He opens his eyes to find himself covered by the towel and you missing, and he frantically swivels his eyes over the shore, knowing he wonât find you in the water but fearing it nonetheless. Youâre nowhere to be seen, and he stumbles off the chair and out from under the umbrella to search the beach, his hair blowing in the wind as he turns in a slow circle. He canât seem to find you, and heâs starting to get worried.
Itâs not like you to wander off, especially without him, and he knows nothing bad has happened to you, but what if it did? What if something bad did happen, and Jeonghan was asleep and he couldnât protect you and now youâre hurt and alone and probably scared and thereâs nothing he can do? Heâs trying not to spiral, but itâs hard when youâve disappeared like this, and it only gets worse when he rifles through the beach bag to get his phone and finds yours instead.
You take your phone everywhere, and it only increases his worry to know that you donât have it now and that you have no way to contact him if you need help.
Heâs wondering if he should call the police when you appear from behind the umbrella, your hands occupied with coconuts.
Jeonghan could throttle you, but he could also gather you up tight in his arms and never let you go, so he settles for a good scolding, just like you taught him.
âWhy didnât you tell me you were leaving? I woke up and you were gone, and you didnât take your phone, and weâre on an island weâve never been to, and I was so worried!â
Okay, so maybe not quite a scolding but he thinks he got his point across.
You raise an eyebrow, holding out his drink and waiting for him to take it before settling back down on the lounger, digging through the bag to find your book.
âJeonghan,â you begin, and already he knows youâre going to admonish him, âYou were asleep, I didnât want to wake you up, and Iâm an adult. Iâm capable of going five minutes up the beach to get us drinks.â
He sighs, knowing youâre right but also knowing he canât admit it, so he takes a sip of his drink instead and begrudgingly thanks you for going to get them.
You sit in silence for a while, slowly downing the cocktails and taking in the soothing sounds of the waves, until Jeonghan feels his stomach rumble and disturb the peace.
âLunch?â he asks tentatively.
It had taken some walking but finally, you approach a streetside bistro that Jeonghan believes is worthy of you.
Youâd been happy with the four youâd passed on the way here, but Jeonghan was starting to feel a bit bad heâd locked you into pretending to be married to him so he wanted to find the best for you. This one looks really authentic, blue and white awnings and lemons everywhere, signs in Italian boasting the best carbonara on the coast and a chef making pasta in the front window. He thinks he recognizes the name from the travel blogs heâd followed in preparation for the trip and gleefully informs the host youâd like a table for two in carefully practiced Italian, much to your obvious surprise.
Jeonghan may or may not have been secretly learning the basics of the language since youâd brought up this location, through videos, free textbooks, and a trial of Rosetta Stone that he canceled before the charge went through on his card. Youâre walking ahead of him as you follow the host to your table so he canât tell if youâre impressed, but he really hopes you are.
Lately thereâs been a separation between you and him, different from the distance youâve always kept. Heâs not sure if he did something wrong or if youâre going through something and not ready to tell him, but he misses you.
Fuck, Jeonghan misses you and thatâs why this trip needs to go perfectly.
The carbonara was incredible, as was the limoncello the server brought over after the meal, the both of you downing one shot and then sipping another before paying the bill and starting to meander about town.
There are small shops everywhere, filled with clothing and ceramics and knick knacks, and Jeonghan doesnât even try to fake annoyance at you pulling him into every single one. You spend the afternoon excitedly pointing at things you think heâd like, begging him to buy at least one with puppy eyes and a quivering bottom lip. He settles on a tiny lemon pitcher, barely large enough to hold a shot of limoncello but so cute he just couldnât resist. He also couldnât resist buying you a matching one, clinking them together in a cheers motion before the employee wrapped them up in paper and handed them over in a small gift bag.
You seem more at ease and Jeonghan feels himself loosen up as well, his moods almost always reflecting your own. Itâs not something he does on purpose, he just seems to unconsciously shift to match your wavelength. It feels like something in him is always reaching out to you, wanting to be close even as you keep your distance.
He tries not to think about it too much, how different youâve been, but your behavior so far contrasts sharply with how you are at home. Here, you hold his gaze, laugh at his jokes, lean into his touch instead of flinching away.
Jeonghan almost doesnât know what to do with himself, torn between the urge to find out whatâs changed and the fear that if he says anything youâll close up again. It takes little to no time for him to decide not to question it - he enjoys this version of you too much to risk disrupting the fragile ease you have with him now.
Itâs easier to interact with you once the decision is made, easier to throw an arm around your shoulders and tug you back to the trolley, to hold your hand tight as you walk through the lobby, to pull you into his arms in the elevator when he notices the other occupant staring a bit too closely at you.
Even easier is falling into bed next to you for an afternoon nap, minds fuzzy from limoncello and bodies heavy from delicious food and a day spent in the sun. Your breathing evens out just as Jeonghanâs eyes flutter closed, the distant roar of waves crashing onto cliffs swallowing his sigh and settling his nerves enough for him to reach out across the sheets and link his pinky finger with yours, inching just a bit closer before letting sleep overtake him.
The sun is setting when Jeonghan jerks awake, the incessant buzzing of a phone making his face scrunch and an irritated groan bubble up in his chest. He'd been sleeping so soundly, dreaming of something beautiful enough to reignite the strange feeling in his stomach. He can't remember what it was but he wonders if it might have something to do with the way you're sprawled over him, your leg hooked around the inside of his and your head resting on his chest.
You haven't been this close to him in ages and he can feel his heart speeding up, feel it thumping against his ribs as you stir, your cheek rubbing against his pec and your fingers clenching in his shirt. He can't reach your phone without disturbing you but you'll wake up anyway if it keeps going off, and he remembers in the back of his mind that you'd made dinner reservations.
You'll be upset if you miss them, both because you think it's rude and because you're excited for the menu, so he gently nudges you off of his body and reaches over you to grab at your phone.
His eyes widen when he sees the time, not realizing just how long of an afternoon nap you'd taken. It's nearing 6:30 so you have just enough time to get ready and grab a cab, and Jeonghan brushes a hand over your head, letting his thumb trace your brow bone until your eyes blink open.
You look adorable, sleepy and confused and a bit annoyed at being woken up, but your face clears when he shows you the clock.
"I totally forgot about dinner," you laugh, your voice still a bit raspy with sleep and sending a shiver down Jeonghan's spine.
That was weird, he thinks, but the thought doesn't linger as he slides off the bed with you, walking over to the closet and waiting for you to pick out your outfit so he can coordinate his shirt.
Jeonghan joins you at the large mirror across from the bed, fixing his hair as you swipe on some mascara, and tries not to think about how good you look together.
He supposes it's beneficial for the plan, but that odd feeling is back and it only grows when you pull on your heels and reach a hand out to him. He's tangled his fingers with yours before the thought to do so even enters his mind, and he follows as you lead him from the suite and toward the elevator. He can feel how fondly he's staring at you as you excitedly babble about the different dishes the restaurant is known for, and Jeonghan wonders if he should worry about how easy it is to pretend to be in love with you.
Jeonghan's still holding your hand as you stumble back to the hotel, your lips tinged with red wine and drawing his gaze. You glow in the weak golden streetlights, your heels clicking on cobblestones and your sweet voice ringing out into the streets. The food was life-changing, linguine tossed in half a wheel of flaming parmesan and topped with freshly shaved truffle, and he pats his full stomach with his free hand, the look on your face as they lit the cheese on fire still at the forefront of his mind.
He hasn't seen you that giddy in months, hasn't felt the shine of your eyes on him or gotten to marvel at the way your cheeks push up the outer corners of your eyes in just as long, and Jeonghan is doing his best to soak it all in. He loves seeing you so happy, so carefree, and somewhere in the back of his alcohol addled mind, he realizes he wouldn't mind being married to you for real if it meant he could keep you like this.
Shaking his head, Jeonghan dislodges the thought and shoves it into a box in the dark corner of his brain, ignoring the way it rattles against the cardboard every time he looks at you. He needs to stop overanalyzing and start enjoying this trip for what it is: two best friends pretending to husband and wife in a completely platonic manner.
And if every step closer to the hotel makes his feelings a bit less platonic, he'll just keep that to himself.
AN: oof from the bottom of my heart, my bad for taking a month to release chapter one đđ iâve had some major writers block and also really fun things going on in my life and itâs been hard to sit down and write lately but today things were flowing so yay!!
on the taglist form, the poll is mostly split in half so im just going to post as i finish chapters and you can decide if you want to wait or not đ
im not sure what iâll release next as iâm working on a commission right now, but i am deep in my ateez feels from their concerts so iâll likely write for them đ iâm hoping to release something else tonight so keep an eye out!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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hihi!! saw that t reqs were open and i absolutely loved that Vernon morning thing you did!! would you be able to do something like that for hao ?? (esp since its his birthday today hehe) doesnt have to specifically birthday or morning themed though, anything with soft fluffy boyfriend hao will do! thank you so muchhhh
the evening glow cascades over your body like liquid honey. smooth, pouring into the natural dips and curves that set you apart from anyone else. from the slope of your nose to the curve of your neck down to your collarbone, he allows himself to take in the sight of you.
highly disheveled, and in a wrinkled graphic tee he hasnât seen in a few weeks (of course you had it, he doesnât know why he thought otherwise), but the picturesque of the perfect muse nonetheless. heâd create artwork based off of you for the world to see and agree with him if he wasnât a little bit of a selfish man.
the eighth wonder of the world is sleeping next to him without a care, and his heart skips around his ribcage like a lovesick teenager. greediness be damned, heâd keep you to himself if he could, but he keeps thoughts like those tucked away . (never mind the fact that the thought of you smiling at strangers the way you smile at him irks a part of him he didnât even know existed.)
you stir, ridding him of those thoughts, and he holds his breath.
slowly, your eyes open, and he watches as you gather your bearings. your hand finds his before you even utter a single word, unconsciously searching for him.
no, heâs not mentally kicking his feet. shut up.
your good morning is questioning, brows furrowed as you try to guess the time, and his answering itâs five in the afternoon makes you bury your face in his shoulder and laugh.
he hopes you donât hear how fast his heart still beats at your proximity. youâve been together for almost three years, and friends three times longer, but fuck if you donât make him question everything. heâs gone, dove head first into love with his eyes closed and his arms open wide.
you toy with the rings on his fingers. a habit you havenât quit long since youâve been friends. he briefly wonders if youâd toy with a wedding ring the same way.
his skin burns so hot you pull away with a concerned look and cup his face in your hands. which, honestly doesnât help, but you know. love makes the heart do silly things. like fall over and die at the thought of marriage, apparently.
I JUST SAW THIS BECAUSE I WAS IA DUE TO EXAMS IM SORRY FOR BEING LATE đđžđđžđđž
this is so pretty the way you write is literally so addictive and adorable i didnt expect to be so floored by this AAAAA its literally that despicable me meme thats like "its so fluffy i'm gnna dieeeee"
since you were asking for fluffy thoughts, i thought iâd share a nice little bit of brainrot in a dream i had that day!
i think i see this happening with gyu or wonu heheh,, so basically it started from a dream where I was really tired from work and came home suuuper tired and exhausted;, but he had made dinner and was all pouty because I came home late :(( aww baby
and then he saw that I was barely walking because i was so tired and he scooped me up and had me sitting across his lap in one of those barstool type chairs but with arms,, and the position was so cute and intimate because I was sitting the wrong way on it and my legs were slung across one of the chair arms while I leaned on his chest and we ate quietly together before heading to bedddd
OH MY GOSH I LOVE THIS<3 i lowkey see this happening with gyu since wonu cannot cook wellđĽ˛
--
coming through the door around 9pm was not a usual occurrence, your shoulders were drooped and eyes tired from looking at the computer the whole day. placing your bag on a chair, you drag yourself to the couch before plopping on it. when you were about to let sleep give in, you see a tall figure approach you. "babyyy why were you working till so late.." mingyu sulks, grabbing your hand and shaking it as if like an unhappy child. "sorry love, my boss threw a bunch of things for me to finalize when i was about to leave." you rested your other hand on your head, shielding you from the light. mingyu quickly saw this and took you into his arms, carrying you with ease and settling into the arm couch. mingyu uses a hand to push your head into his chest, knowing well you need the rest and comfort. "are you comfortable this way? you look really cramped," mingyu said, voice laced with concern. "no worries, this is perfect." you sigh, nestling into his warmth further, mingyu then further comments, "well i came home early wanting to surprise you with dinner...you still need to eat so do you want me to bring the food over here?" you nod, eyes closed as he quickly runs to the kitchen and gets the plates. before you know it, hes rushing back, a bunch of plates stacked on his arms as if hes rushing, thinking you'll fall asleep before you eat. he quickly places you in his arms again before taking the cutlery in his arms and one plate before feeding you, he too takes a few bites but his priorities are set on you. when you finished the food, he washes the dishes while you take a quick shower. the day ends when you are nicely tucked in his arms in your bed. "thank you gyu, for all of this." you quietly say. "no problem, just get your rest now, sleep well darling."
little bit of bedtime fluff, inspired by a dancer i like but i left it male optional bias. reader isn't explicitly female but has long ish hair. enjoy!
"No. Leave it down." His wrist grabs my own softly, halting the claw clip halfway to my hair in its motion. My hair tumbles free from its unsecured makeshift bun, framing my face and shoulders messily - it already feels annoying, the sweep of my bangs guaranteeing the lack of peace I'd have trying to fall asleep tonight with my hair in my face.
"But you know my hair gets tangled at night if I don't braid it... " I trail off and look up, seeking out my lover's face in the dimly lit room. The late hour does us no favors as we get ready for bed - I have to squint a little to distinguish my lover from the night swirling around him. I am met with warm brown eyes - so intense that his gaze sears into me. My eyebrows raise in question - I tie my hair up before bed every night, and he's never quite raised protest before.
"I don't think I've said this before but - waking up with you in my arms, and my face buried in your hair - I just don't know how to explain. The smell of your shampoo when your head is tucked into my neck, the faint brush of your hair against my jaw, the curve of your body pressed into mine - every single morning I realize all over again that there's nothing in the world I'd rather wake up to each day. Could you sleep with your hair down tonight, my love ?" He speaks with his mouth against my temple, and I feel the heat of his words, feel him speak his love into my hair.
His eyes have fallen to the inch of space between us on the bed, flitting from the edge of the pillowcase I rest on to the plush quilt covering our waists waiting for my reply.
His name falls from my lips in a sigh, and my hands drop the clip I was holding in favor of cradling his face instead, pulling him down so he is level with me. Our noses brush, and his hands still brace my wrists with the gentlest of holds. I feel each of his soft breaths against my own mouth and tilt my head ever so slightly, letting my fingers graze the barely there stubble of his jaw.
His gaze darts back up to meet mine - tentative, shy almost, but I watch as he finds the answer he's searching for in my eyes. I let him close the sliver of distance between us, brushing his mouth against mine as his hands slip into my curls- letting him hold me to him with his hands tangled in my hair.
okay i'm mesmerized by minghao's new song. i didn't think i would like it much because his previous work hasn't been my thing, but - fuck. i cried, i actually cried at the end. thought i'd write down what immediately comes to my mind after one listen:
the yearning. i don't how else to put it, but the everything about this song - the lyrics, the melody, his voice, the accompanying video - screams yearning. i don't know what the theme is (is he talking about someone he has? is he yearning to find someone? does it even matter?), but i can feel the yearning.
the lyricism. it's a beautifully written song. especially the line "to block the waves for her, how tall a tower must i become?". that's so fucking raw and so beautiful - i teared up.
the melody. i don't know how to explain, but this melody was perfect from top to bottom. it just was. the desperation at the end followed by the quite repetition was everything. and that bridge (or is it the last chorus) - the way it builds up ever-so-gently only to fall to the repetition part? brilliant.
the video. i don't care about music videos in general so i'm surprised that i enjoyed it so much. his acting is superb - the dejected look on his face at the end coupled with the low murmurings of "do not stop, do not stop" is an image stuck in my mind.
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a/n : so before someone comes at me for writing this, i want to say i wrote this for myself. all my work is for myself and it just happens to be that i enjoy sharing it. i donât ever see anything written for brown women, so i wrote something myself. if there are any questions, my inbox is open and anon is on. if youâre going to send hate, itâs not even gonna see the glory of being on the dash.Â
âŚ..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.Â
our beautiful life when its filled with shrieks, christopher citro | pro chef vs. momâs homemade pho, watcher | chen chen | hu yang | the hungers of hadewijch and eckhart, donald duclow | pro chef vs. momâs homemade pho, watcher | rice, mary oliver | holly warburton | @ romcommunist | @ compsigh | @ nicollekidman | @ dakotajohnsongf | natalie diaz | just the two of us, clifford prince king | @ apolohgy | @ peachblushparlour | kitchen tables: peter pereira, âa pot of red lentilsâ | tales from earthsea | in the kitchen by helena janecic | 댏í íŹë ě¤í¸ (little forest) 2018 dir. ěěëĄ (yim soon-rye)
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thereâs a portrait of cedric diggory in the hufflepuff common room.
nobody knows who painted it. the other houses speculate, but the hufflepuffs know not to ask, because thatâs not really whatâs important.
itâs one of the moving ones, of course. sometimes cedric isnât in it - itâs said that the portrait has a twin, over amos diggoryâs fireplace, and cedric always loved his father. but heâs there enough, smiling down at the hufflepuffs who congregate in the common room, watching them as they go about their lives.
the portrait is by the door, next to one of the overstuffed yellow chairs. students sit there to talk to cedric, with some modicum of privacy. at first, it was his friends, the people who knew him and miss him and love him. but as time went on it became those who knew him by reputation. kids seeking advice, help with homework. someone to talk to, on a long and cold night. gradually, he became a legend, spoke in hushed whispers to the first-years as they came in. if youâre ever in trouble, talk to cedric. heâll always help you.
after the battle of hogwarts, when the furniture was mended and the new students hesitantly made their way in, there was another portrait next to it, of hufflepuffâs favoured daughter. tonks, known by one name only, blew painted bubbles from her world of acrylic and canvas. while students came to cedric for help and advice, they came to tonks to ask questions. she would tell the most wicked stories, and some of them were even true. when someone needed cheering up, when they were wanting to brainstorm their next epic prank, they went to tonks.
she wasnât always there, either. another portrait above a cot, where a baby with shocking blue hair could look at it and laugh. but when she was, she was always happy to have people come to her. when they did, it felt like she wasnât just paint and canvas. she felt alive.
hufflepuffs look after their own, you see. dead or alive.