#sorry if I rambled a bit too much at the end

[ghost-proofbaby]

september love (e.m.)

eddie finds you awake on the first night he's home from the hospital, and wonders what you're thinking.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of canon ending of season 4, except eddie didn't die. mentions of hospital and medical procedures (in passing). sort of sad, sort of not. a little bit of angst? hurt/comfort. religious imagery (specific mentions of heaven).

wc: 1.7k+

an: this was just some sort of weird rambling upon seeing the poem mentioned above at like 11 pm? 1 am? who knows. time is a construct. also, reader is compared to a 'violent' dog/animal during eddie's recovery, and if you like this metaphor/vibe, then i strongly suggest and urge you to go read @myosotisa's fic Half Life. she does it far more beautifully than i ever could, and it is one of my favorite fics. ever.

Your head is on his chest. 

Your temple and your ear are flush with the soft cotton of his wrinkled t-shirt, the one he insisted upon sleeping on his first night home, and it’s all you can think about. The smell of week old laundry, the stubborn linger of a cologne gifted too long ago to remember the worn name of. A steady heartbeat that still pumps along a little too slow for your liking. The rise and fall of each promised breath that you force your lungs to pace themselves with. Just enough heat radiating off of him to keep you warm, here in bed, here in the dim light of twilight as he rests.

No tubes and no IVs to worry about. No nurses barging in every ten minutes. No beeping of a dozen machines to be your symphony tonight. 

No, you don’t need a machine now to keep track of his heart rate. You’ve learned to do that entirely on your own; your heart has learned how to match his with each dulled thump against the skin you cling to through this dingy old t-shirt.

It can’t be long after 3 AM, the moonlight almost as bright as a rising sun as it peeks itself in through the curtains of the window, as if whispering to check if you might still be awake.

And you are. And all you can think about, is your head on his chest. 

It’s been over a month since you’ve had this type of moment with Eddie. A moment where you’re truly, sincerely, utterly alone with him. Privacy had become a delicacy that you weren’t aware of the fragility of. You hadn’t understood its importance until you had to bask in its absence, always on edge for the next body to walk into the room and take the air out of your lungs. Always anxious for the next sound of news, always worried for the next shoe to drop. 

You’d forgotten what it had felt like for Eddie to twitch his fingers along your spine in his sleep, and for you to be the only witness to his quiet worship, even unconscious. 

Your lips part, and you almost consider whispering hard truths into the trembling night air. There’s a million and one dying words cementing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, and you know that every single one you could even manage to utter would only make you sound like a broken record. 

I’m sorry this happened to you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent it. 

All things already said to him when he had been drifting in and out of consciousness in that hospital bed. All apologies already buried between muted sobs as you’d clutched his knuckles a little tighter than you should have, a little too selfish in the moment to wonder if it might be hurting him. The only thing on your mind had been keeping him, holding him, feeling him. He was alive – he was alive. And for the first seven nights of his endless rest, all you could wonder is for just how much longer that desperate prayer could ring true.

Would he leave you again? Would he lose the fight? 

You can’t recall without bias which one of you had been the true wounded animal in that little room, scented with burning bleach and cacophonies of nearby patients just beyond the curtains. 

Eddie, looking up at the police who had finally come once he woke, eyes big and teary as he’d tried to wrap his head around his new reality.

You, baring teeth and claws at them in the end, ready to bite hard at anyone who got too close.

It wasn’t just the police. It was everyone. 

It was the same juxtaposition between the two of you at those nurses who would interrupt the nights, always frowning so dutifully at the sight of your carefully curled figure at Eddie’s side. When friends and family came to visit, and they all had the same look of disbelief. As if they were about to tell you that you had imagined it all; he hadn’t survived, he hadn’t come back to you, you were imagining it. You’d been all bark and awaiting bite towards Steve Harrington and the newly revived Jim Hopper, all the same. Their figures bore no difference to you when it came to protecting what was so holy to you. Him, Eddie, here and alive. Eddie, who slept enough for the both of you those nights. The pain in your back from all the uncomfortable hours spent in that little chair at his bedside was insignificant, all the headaches you’d endured from the smell of iodine that still clung to the air after every surgery were pitiful attempts at the Universe removing you from him. 

If you could, you might try to recall your reaction when Dustin Henderson had babbled on through tears as to what had happened to Eddie when the two were left alone. His final act of heroism, or so he thought. 

But you can’t. Right here, right now, you aren’t capable of living in the past. You’ve been haunted enough these last few weeks, and all your numb mind can handle is counting the beats of his heart. Like the rhythm of a song – 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4. Staccato verses that you sometimes whisper in time, getting worried when they don’t follow the infallible metronome you’ve set for him. 

“You’re still awake.”

The murmur of his voice is a drink of cold water, startling in the dark greys and blues wrapping the two of you up. 

You lift your head ever so slightly against your better judgment, “Go back to sleep, love.” 

“Touche.” 

You can see his grin even through the shadows. It’s weak, not yet quite as vibrant as it once had been, but it’s there. He’s still alive. He’s still grinning. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” The pads of his fingertips are more intentional against your spine now, longer strokes and mindless shapes, “I’ve got a penny in my pocket if you tell me.”

His words are only slightly slurred. Probably residual of the pain medication they’d prescribed him.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” you say, and you mean it.

You hadn’t been thinking. You had just been listening to his heart and his breaths, feeling the weight of him beneath you. 

Little things you had taken for granted once upon a time. Never again, your soul aches as you let your head drop back to his chest carefully. Never again.

“You’re just laying awake, not thinking about anything, at…” he trails off, turning his cheek and squinting in the direction of the alarm clock across the room. The glow is dim, and you know you’ll have to change the batteries soon, “Four in the morning?”

4 AM. Last you had checked, it had been 3 AM. You hadn’t even noticed an hour had passed. 

“Is that really so hard to believe?” you smile up at him, and it’s just as sincere as your words had been. When his honey brown eyes meet yours, warmth drizzles down your entire being. Across your brain, down your spine, wrapping around your limbs. You could spend an eternity here, simmering in his warmth, content to your heart’s fullest capability. 

You’d almost lost him. You’d almost lost this warmth. 

You take a second to memorize his features. Studying him as if you didn’t already know every curvature, every freckle, every winkle better than you knew your own soul. You’re looking at him as if you may never look at him again, and he can tell. 

He doesn’t have to say that he gets it. His hand simply wanders up to cup your face, basking in you as you were him. Two souls, intertwining over overlapping legs and synchronized heartbeats, and he doesn’t have to say a word. 

The moment his fingers card into your baby hairs, you’re turning your mouth quickly to that warm palm. One, two, three kisses. Quick pecks, rapid succession. A secret language that you know he, and only ever he, can begin to understand. 

I love you.

I love you.

I love you. 

It drowns out all sorrow, all guilt, all hauntings. Your cracked lips, and the feeling of those lines across his palms. If there is a Heaven, it’s not somewhere in a pearly gated kingdom above. There are no hark angels and there is no bearded man awaiting. 

It’s here. It’s now. It’s 4 AM, in bed with your lover, getting to experience moments you’d come so close to losing for eternity. 

Do the poets know? They must. All the love, all the adoration, in both your bodies is too abundant for them to not feel it. To not write about it. 

“Go back to bed, love,” you repeat almost a perfect imitation of your first command when he had awakened, and this time, his eyelids flutter with your words, “I’m not gonna disappear between now and sunrise. I promise.” 

“No,” he quickly whispers back as his eyes fully shut, and your palms smooth out the wrinkles of the shirt to feel the ridges of scars hidden for now. Scars he’s ashamed of, for now. Scars you’d one day show all the love in the world to, sacred proof that he came back to you, only once he was ready. One day. “But you’re looking at me like I might.”

His words are heavy in the shades of violet now sinking into the room. But the moon is high in her sky, and the crickets are chirping to the East, and he’s right.

You’re terrified the daylight will steal him from you. You’re terrified the new day might tear away all that you’ve sunk your teeth into. 

“I’m not going to,” he mumbles around a yawn, arms slowly encasing you, pulling you in closer, “I’m not going anywhere. Yeah?” 

He’s back with that warmth, coaxing you right back into heavenly notions with him. You let him; he baits you, and you follow. 

“Yeah.”

It’s a sigh. Of hopefulness, of relief, of belief. 

This time, the I love you is more than a prayer repeated in your mind. And he somehow manages to say it back, just as he begins to slip back under. Still holding you and hands still twitching where they rest against your back. 

Let daylight come. You aren’t capable of worrying about it, or stressing about all that has happened. You aren’t capable of thinking about anything right now, because only one thing matters as your temple and ear find his heartbeat once more. 

Your head is on his chest.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea@kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria@loveryanax@stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies

@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo@findmeincorneliastreet

[calisturniolo]

☆ IF THE WORLD WAS ENDING I’D WANNA BE NEXT TO YOU

summary. . . cute things matt does in a relationship

warnings. . . mentions of slight insecurity

a/n. . . i was on the plane and thought of this so wrote it down in my notes app and im now writing it while waiting on my second plane and this song has been stuck in my head for weeks now. also i didn’t proof read this because i was rushing to get on my flight but i wanted to post it now

𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS HAS TO BE CUDDLING YOU WHILE SLEEPING, NO MATTER WHAT.

you finish your small skincare routine and put on your pyjamas before climbing into matt’s cozy bed, snuggling into the covers as you get tucked up under them.

matt follows right behind you, climbing into the warm bed. he immediately pulls you flush against him, wrapping his strong arms around your waist with his chest to your back.

you let out a content sigh as you feel his body relax into yours, you place your hands over his hand that is draped over your exposed stomach.

he nuzzles his head into your neck and lets out an equally content sound, his breath warm against your skin. his arms wrap even tighter around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“you just gotta be cuddling me, don’t ya?” you giggle out as you close your eyes, trying to fall into a deep sleep.

matt chuckles lightly against your shoulder, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. he pulls you even closer to him, his warm chest pressing firmly against your back.

“mhm you know it” he whispers out, leaving a kiss on your neck.

𝜗𝜚 HE ALWAYS WANTS TO LISTEN TO YOU, EVEN WHEN YOU THINK YOURE TALKING TOO MUCH

you had been talking matt’s ear off for the past hour about someone in your college — you didn’t even think about how bored matt must be, listening to you talking about the same topic for over an hour.

“then she said to me-“ you stop yourself as you check the time and realise how much you had spoke, you looked up at matt and saw he still had the same smile of adoration sitting on his face as he did an hour ago, “did i ramble on again…sorry” you awkwardly say, scratching the back of your neck.

matt chuckled softly at your comment, his eyes sparkling with love as he looked at you. he took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing circles against the back of your hand.

“don’t be sorry” he said with a warm smile, “i could listen to you talk for hours.”

a huge smile came onto your face at matt’s sweet compliment but insecurity quickly taking over you, “you sure… you sure i’m not talking your ears off? i know i yap on and on all the time… but you’re sure?” you ask with a hint of insecurity in your voice.

matt’s heart softened at the hint of insecurity in your voice. he gently pulled you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as you laid on his shoulder in a comforting embrace.

“i’m absolutely sure.” he reassured you, his voice firm yet tender. “i love hearing about your day, about things you love, about anything and everything. it’s a part of who you are, and i love every bit of it.” he gave you a gentle squeeze before leaning forward to look into your eyes with complete sincerity.

𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS SURPRISES YOU WITH FLOWERS

he knows they’re your favourite and always makes sure to pick out the prettiest bunch. he gives you them before dates too, just so he can admire the way your face lights up when he gives you them.

at the moment, matt was out with nick and chris at a meeting. you were bored so you texted him just to see what he was up too.

| hey baby! where are youuuu? also see if you pass gas station on your way home could you pleaseee get me a blue slurpee????

you pressed send and waited for a reply. you weren’t expecting a reply straight away since he was at a meeting.

matt sees his phone light up with a text notification — once he saw it was from you, a smile lit up his face. the meeting he was just in was boring, your simple check-up made him feel better.

| heyyy we’re just leaving, don’t worry i’ll get you aslurpee. see you soon, i love you

matt sets his phone down in the cup holder after hitting send on his text. his attention goes back to the road as he turns in at 7-eleven to get you a slurpee and flowers.

he walks into the gas station and picks up a bunch of baby breaths and tulips for you, he then gets your blue slurpee, before he leaves he grabs a few bags of your favourite candies and paying, walking out the store and back to his car.

he hands the flowers over to chris and the bags of candies, sitting the slushie in the cup holder before driving off back home. he’s excited to get home and see the look on your face when he gives you the flowers.

he walks inside his bedroom, shutting the door with his foot as he has flowers and candy in one hand and the slurpee in the other, “hey baby, i’m back” he says walking to the desk and putting all the things he bought at the store down.

“oh my god… hey, you’re back” you say, putting down your phone and getting off his bed as you walk into his open arms.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. he can’t help but bury his face against your neck, leaving light kisses there.

you felt shivers down your spine as he left kisses on your skin, “how was your meeting?” you asked.

“boring” he mumbled against your neck, still peppering light kisses there, “i missed you” he added quietly, nuzzling closer.

you let out a small giggle but your heart swelled at his comment, “matt, baby, you saw me before you left this morning” you said pulling back from him.

“i know… also i got you a present.” he said walking back over to the desk and picking up the flowers and your slurpee.

your eyes light up as you see the bunch of flowers in his hand and the blue slushy, “matt..they’re beautiful. thank you so much, i love you” you say as he holds the flowers out for you with a smile.

you take hold of the flowers, you admire them with the cheesiest smile on your face.

matt loved buying you flowers, it was his favourite thing to do.

𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS TAKING PHOTOS OF YOU WHEN YOURE NOT LOOKING BECAUSE HE THINKS YOU LOOK SO CUTE

you and matt are sat on the sofa, a little space between you two. you were sitting with your knees up as your phone leaned against your thigh, your hoodie pulled up to your chin. you were scrolling on pinterest and adding photos to your boards, you were in your own little world until you heard matt let out a giggle.

you looked over at him as he looked over at you before talking, “look at this cute picture i took of you when you weren’t looking! it’s so cute, you’re adorable” matt gushed with a smile over his face as he turns his phone towards you to show you the photo.

you squint your eyes slightly to get a better look at the photo but when you get a full view of it, your face turns to a deadpan expression. you don’t see the cuteness matt was talking about, all you saw were flaws.

your messy hair, the unflattering angle, your glasses sitting lob sided on your nose, your bare face with no makeup, and the big pimple on your forehead.

“dude. be so for real, that photo is fucking horrible” you say leaning back to your original position but still looking at matt as he turns his phone back round and admiring the photo.

he playfully kicks your leg with his foot as he giggles, “hey! i thought you looked really cute in this picture, why’re you so negative?” he tilted his head, a curious look in his eyes.

you squinted your eyes and quirked an eyebrow at his reply but you felt butterflies in your stomach as he still complimented you, “no matt! look at my hair, it’s a mess, you can see my double chin, my glasses are lop sided, and look at that fat pimple on my forehead! and i have no makeup on. i actually feel disgusted looking at that right now”

he rolls his eyes, “okay fine, your hair isn’t perfect. your glasses are slightly lop sided, i didn’t even notice the pimple and you look amazing without makeup! why would you be so disgusted at the picture you? you look so cute in it.” he glances between the picture and your face, genuinely not understanding what’s so bad about it.

you jokingly roll your eyes at his obliviousness, “it’s ugly as shit, i just look bad. that’s why im disgusted.” you giggled out.

matt sighs. he doesn’t believe you for a second, “i’ve seriously never thought you looked bad! you’re so pretty, and this picture does not change it one bit” he grins and pokes your cheek and moves your glasses up your nose slightly, “it’s a cute picture and you’re a cute person. get over it”

you lean your head back on the back of the sofa with a smile on your face, “fine, i give up. you win.” you say leaning your head on his shoulder, he leans his head to the side and kiss your forehead.

[sturniolo04]

The Confession 1 C.S.

Fwb!Mean!Chris x Fwb!Fem!Reader

A/N: I tried something different :)

*Really long you have been warned.

I dont even know how I ended up in this position. One minute my best friend Madi thinks she likes both Matt and Chris and the next she is 100% Matt. Me and Madi are super close I mean we practically grew up together and when we met the triplets in Boston everything changed, our circle grew just a little bit bigger. Lately, I haven't been the best friend to Madi just because I have been neglecting to confess to her about my secret crush on Chris and I am not the type to run over her if she knows she likes Chris because who am I to tell her she can't like him especially since I haven't told her that I did.

its about 1:50 in the morning and by this time Madi had walked all the way to a park and found a bench to sit and bawl her eyes out she couldnt figure out why she was feeling this bad whether it was that she couldnt articulate how she hurt Matt and Chris or if it is was because she cant choose between chris and matt she knows them both equally for a long time. sighing looking down at her phone finally deciding to call the one person she knew is always there. Holding in my tears as the dial tone rings hoping she wasnt asleep yet.

"Hello Madi"

jess speaks into the phone

"Jess"

she states through choked tears

"Madi what's going on love what happened" 

"i messed up really bad and i dont know what to do"

she exclaims letting her tears fall

"Madi"

"I like chris and matt and ive might have messed up our friendship"

"no madi you didnt okay i promise you didnt they are still your friends and they love you"

you quickly reply feeling that heavy feeling in your chest again as she still thinks she like chris.

"i dont know"

she replies through a fit of tears

"its okay promise try to get some sleep and you will feel so much better tomorrow i promise"

you reply reassuring her.

"okay goodnight"

she sniffles out

"goodnight i will see you when you get back home "

she hung up from jess and sighed out once more calming her nerves proceeding to walk back to the house. as she made her way into the driveway sitting back on the concrete driveway where the night officially started 

"MADI"

you exclaim softly seeing her sitting on the driveway

"hi"

she replies quietly as she turns around to look at you

"i was so worried are you okay"

you ask again.

"im sorry"

you sigh squatting down and hugging her then sitting down next to her

"i fucked things up didnt i"

she huffs out

"what no well i mean chris and matt are not speaking to each other currently but i mean whats new"

you sigh out since madi basically confessed to both of them on the same night and them both finding out in this driveway tonight.

" but it was my fault im the reason they are mad at each other"

"no no youre not okay they are just being them okay they will grow up"

you reassure her

"but i mean i told you had feelings for chris too"

you state smirking trying to shake the heavy feeling in her stomach at that sentence.

"jesss"

"you know i love you"

you say side hugging her

'well im going to bed you think youre going to be okay"

"yeah thanks j" 

"okay"

you say standing up and walking back into the house as madi rests her head on her arms positioned on top of her knees as someone comes and sits next to her quietly

"hi matt"

she speaks softly out noticing his presence

"hey"

"im sorry"

"why you were just being honest" 

he sighs out

"i do really like you" 

she confesses again

"no madi you and chris are perfect and honestly it makes he was at least able to communicate how he feels about you without being oblivious about it im not the one you need madi you are way out of my league and im okay with that honestly"

he sighs out rambling

"what the actual fuck matt stop youre  out of my league why do you just automatically assume your not good enough" 

she exclaims frustrated standing up and wrapping the blanket you had brought her getting upset

"madi no youre not out of league okay just stay"

he says pulling her hand down a little as she sighs and sits back down as matt pulls me into him connecting our lips guiding her on his lap in the process. He tangled his fingers through her messy hair as he continue to make out with her. Her hands wrapped around his neck tightly as he stood up carrying her back into the house. shepulled away quickly he closed the door behind them and set her back on her feet.

"Matt if-if"

she trails of whispering

"wait"

he stops her as he pulls his and her shoes off leaving them downstairs as he swiftly picks her up again by her thighs taking her upstairs to her room quietly being sure not wake up anyone especially Chris. Matt leans back in after setting her on her bad standing in between her legs attempting to connect their lips again but madi halted him in the process.

"matt..seriously come on"

she giggles out as he sighs out stares at her as she bites her lip slowly.

"yes madi you were saying"

he chuckles out

"matt if- if we do this"

she trails off motions towards them

"no one can know yet"

"okay"

he kind of chuckles at the concept

"im serious matt"

she exhales out looking at him as his face softens at her response

"at least until i figure out how to tell" 

"chris"

"yeah because"

"i know i know"

he sighs out moving himself from in between her to next to her laying on her bed. 

"jess' mom might be coming to boston"

"what that so cool"

"yeah she called her when i walked off tonight"

"oh" 

"yeah"

"well im going to go"

he states standing up

"where"

she states worried

"dont worry just in the other room with chris maybe so you can get some sleep"

he chuckles out giving madi a forehead kiss as he walks out of her room.

Madi wakes up the next morning mentally face palming herself considering well she basically made out with Matt after literally confessing to both brothers she has feelings for them. she rolled out of bed hoping everything will return to normal. she shower and put on this And head downstairs to be met with the face of the one and only

"good morning"

"whats up how are you feeling"

"better just like jess said"

"jess"

"i talked to her last night after everything"

"oh okay hey madi listen forget everything i said last night i was just being stupid it was nothing"

he states quickly realizing he also confessed that he liked you.

"chris i dont think it was nothing you dont have to lie about it"

"no im being for real"

"christopher"

"what im serious"

"okay then sound cool"

she states heading back upstairs

"where are you going"

"to wake up matt and everyone else"

Chris couldnt understand why he said that he literally let her get away again. His thoughts were soon interrupted the sound of jess's doorbell ringing. He went over and opened the door to reveal

"oh hi there i was- where is jess"

jess mom trails off

"she's upstairs um"

he trailed off kind of awkwardly since he had no idea that this jess's mom as what sounded like jess's laugh approaching the bottom of the stair case. I turned to see jess walking down with Nick and Madi being carried down the stairs by matt. the lady at the door cleared her throat as they all snapped out of their trance looking in that direction

"Mom"

she exclaims running over and hugging her

"mom"

Chris questions

"yeah.. mom this is chris, matt, nick and then you remember madi"

she trails off as chris waves his hand

"Hi you all"

she says with a raised eyebrow smiling

"jess; mom"

she exlcaims hugging her after jess

"hey madi"

"when did you get here" 

madi asks her

"last night when jess called"

Madi looks over at jess standing next to her as she shrugs her shoulders a little not wanting to talk about last night at all due to the fact she still felt the pit in her stomach of guilt of even allowing herself the like chris and not trust madi enough to even tell her that you liked him.

"so mom do you want to come on in then"

she states as madi and her both step aside to let her in

"how long are you going to be here for"

"just the weekend"

"maybe we can all go somewhere and just hang out for a little bit maybe grab dinner does that sound good guys"

she asks everyone

"im fine with that"

nick agrees nodding his head

"mom"

you question her

"sure plus i want to see all there is about Boston since this is my first time up here"

"well the triplets can definitely help point out those key spots since they've grown up here"

"literally"

chris chuckles out admiring jess' laugh slightly

"cool so do want me to ride with you"

"umm.. im going to ride with jess and her mom is that okay"

"uh yeah of course" 

madi and you grab your shoes and they all head out the door.

"soo"

she trails off looking the mirror at the two girls in the backseat of the car

"what's going on with you and Matt Madi"

"uhh"

" yeah i was going to ask about that i mean i knew you guys made up because i saw him come outside after i left you after you came back home"

"umm i dont know what you guys are talking about"

"are you sure because i remember clearly you being carried down the stairs by him this morning"

"in a skirt too at that madii"

you exclaim dragging out the 'i' in your best friend's name

"oh come on what is that suppose to mean just because we made up doesn't mean we are dating"

"so your telling me he hasnt tried to make a move on you after everything that happened yesterday evening"

she asks as madi kind of stares off into space getting flashbacks to last night of literally her and matt making out in her driveway

"oh my god he totally did didnt he"

"what no jess no" 

"madi"

jess's mom exclaims trying to get an answer out of her

"OKAY maybe we might have made out in the driveway at like 2 in the morning"

"MADISON"

you exclaim at your best friend with your jaw dropped

"what i mean its wasnt like terrible"

she shyly replies.

"that you made out with your bestfriend the best friend you liked for literally ever or that he was actually good at making out"

"OH MY GOODNESS"

madi exclaims embarrassed

" just asking"

"OH MY GOD NO"

"it was definitely the second option"

you giggle out

"shut up Jess"

she exclaims pushing some of her hair behind her ear opening her phone

"just make sure you do and know what your heart wants madi" 

"of course always"

Taglist

@dirtylittleheart333 @stayingstromboli @wh0resstuff @mintsturniolo @spicymuffins03 @emely9274

[msnmnt]

The Morning After | Mason Mount

pic from pinterest 🩶

A/N: I like to think this is in the same universe as my other fics, taking place between Lay Your Love On Me and Teach You, but I think it’s also fine to be read on it’s own.

Summary: Contains smut! Taking place the morning after Mase takes y/n’s virginity, there’s lots of fluff for the aftermath the morning after. Then… Mason wants to make her feel good once more. 😏 Enjoy! 💗 (ps sorry for the unoriginal title, I need to work on that 😅)

- - - - -

Your eyes fluttered open, slowly blinking as you adjusted to the dim room, lit only by the daylight that was seeping through the light grey curtains that you didn’t completely recognise.

It took you a few moments to properly wake up, but soon the memories from the previous night were flooding back to you. They were Mason’s curtains, and you were tucked up in Mason’s bed.

You gradually remembered the events from the previous evening and how it had ended with Mason being his usual total sweetheart self, not wanting you to move and cleaning you up with a wet cloth and towel so you could stay comfy in his bed. You recalled how your cheeks had flushed a crimson colour as he wiped between your legs, catching his attention when you winced slightly at the sensation of the cold water on the area which was so sensitive. Mason’s head had jolted to look at you, his heart dropping at the little whimper that left your mouth. You had had to reassure him that you were okay, just a little sensitive, and he had continued cleaning you up.

Mason had gone on to dress you in one of his tops that he knew you loved, and the pair of you had snuggled down, limbs tangled as you indulged in some pillow talk. But if Mason was honest, he had barely taken in what you were saying, far too enamoured by the glow on your face that he was sure had only appeared after he had made love to you. He could feel himself falling more and more in love with you as he listened to you quietly ramble on about not much, softly blinking as his eyes fixated on your features, the way they were so perfect to him.

You couldn’t quite remember falling asleep, but you did remember how the evening had ended with Mason cuddled up behind you, his arms looped around your waist as he held your body against his, telling you how good you did for him and how in love with you he was.

You didn’t have chance to register that Mason’s arms were no longer caging you in, far too caught up in your thoughts as your tummy buckled at just how perfect your caring boyfriend had made the previous night. You couldn’t have asked for anything more. Well, that was what you thought, till you noticed Mason wander through his bedroom floor, dressed in nothing but a pair of grey jogging bottoms that sat dangerously low on his hips.

He tried his best to tip toe in, his hands gripping tightly onto a tray filled with two croissants and two glasses of fresh orange juice.

You couldn’t fight back the smile on your face as you sat up in bed. When Mason noticed you were awake, he tutted in disappointment before carefully placing the tray onto the bed.

“Why’re you awake?” Mason asked, unreasonably annoyed that he hadn’t got the chance to wake you up with breakfast in bed like he had planned out in his head.

“Because you have the thinnest curtains known to man.” You chuckled, looking over at the thin bits of fabric which were now doing little to hold back the sunlight. “Seriously, you can tell you haven’t had a woman’s touch around this place.” You rubbed at your sleepy eyes before scanning the room. His furniture was nice and the room was modern, but you could tell none of it had really been given much thought.

“You can give it your touch all you want, baby.” Mason climbed onto the bed, slipping himself back under the covers. “I’m serious, you can do whatever you want to it.” Mason cupped your face in his hand, his eyes looking over the sleepy but lovey look on your face, matching his.

He lent in, capturing your lips with his in a sweet kiss. His other hand slipped to go under the shirt of his that you were wearing, holding your hip as he licked at your bottom lip. You gladly opened up to allow his tongue to slip in, the minty taste of his toothpaste making your mouth tingle.

Mason’s kisses got hungrier and your lips turned up into a grin as you pulled away, your gaze snapping down to the bedding and noticing that Mason’s sudden movements had jolted the tray, causing the juice to spill over the top of the glass.

Mason shrugged his shoulders, bringing his face back to yours, and you giggled at how keen he was.

“Mase, baby.” You laughed as he looked on innocently, completely smitten and just wanting to show you love. “Be careful, you’re going to get the bedding all wet.”

Mason gave you a look and raised his eyebrows, and you just rolled your eyes at his childness.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

Mason settled down next to you and you shared the pastries, making quick work of eating them all. You sat in mostly a comfortable silence and you couldn’t help but beam at how natural the domestic setting had you feeling.

As you ate, Mason kept a hand on your thigh, lightly stroking as he just wanted to keep his hands on your soft skin at all times.

Once you had finished the pastries and juice, Mason put the tray to one side before reaching his arm out and tapping his bare chest. You felt your tummy flutter as you shifted yourself over to allow his body to envelope yours, his hand coming to grip at your arm as he placed a soft kiss to your forehead, the softness making you nuzzle your head into him.

“How’re you feeling this morning, angel?” Mason asked before planting one more kiss to your hair, grabbing one of your hands in his and intertwining them in his lap.

“I feel good.” You turned to look up at him, his honey eyes staring back into yours with a look of love and adoration. “Really good, actually.” You smiled and Mason’s heart thudded at how genuinely happy you looked. He was so glad he had managed to relax you and make the night memorable for you as well, for all the right reasons.

Something about the way he was looking at you with such softness and care as well paired with the thoughts back to last night seemed to enlighten something in you and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together.

You pulled your hand from Mason’s and he furrowed his brows in confusion before watching as you bought it to his bare chest, ever so slightly tracing your nails across his chest and running them all the way down to the tops of his jogging bottoms. A little giggle left Mason and you were sure it was the sweetest sound you had ever heard, deciding to continue dragging your nails across his chest in random patterns, up and down, diagonal and across, as he watched on, small sighs leaving his parted lips at the sensation.

After a few minutes, you finally convinced yourself to be brave and you lightly grazed your hand over his crotch, noticing the faint outline of his cock as it was clear he was not wearing boxers.

Mason let his eyes fall shut as he took in a few breaths, your hand brushing over his hardening cock. Finally he convinced himself to reach down and gently grab your wrist in his hand, stopping your movements.

“What’re you doing, baby?” Mason asked, his heart hammering in his chest.

You shrugged, trying your best to mask how nervous you were at trying to make the first move. You don’t want to, but seeing Mase sat there all shirtless and sexy, the heat was pooling in your stomach, and you had to do something about it.

“I just thought I could maybe - maybe touch you. Try and make you come with my hand.” You admitted shyly and Mason felt his cock twitch at your words. He tried his best to compose himself, shaking his head.

He gently pushed you back onto the bed so you were laying flat, coming to hover above you. Mason cupped your cheek, his thumb lightly stroking at your soft skin.

“Absolutely not baby.” He begun to scatter soft kisses to your neck, feeling pleased with himself when he noticed the small but purple mark behind your ear that he had left last night, gently soothing the skin with his tongue. “My girl deserves the best.” He cupped your cheek, his thumb lightly stroking at your soft skin. “Anyway, what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let you do that before I’ve gone down on you?” His breath fanned over your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You crooked your neck down, your face warming at his words and the feel of his breath on you. His warm skin on yours. His sweet words filling you with complete joy.

Mason scattered little kisses all over your face, his hands wandering down the curves of your body. He slipped your top (his) top up your body till your midriff was exposed and he begun to plant sloppy kisses to your skin, his lips dangerously close to where you really wanted them.

“Mase…” Your couldn’t help him name from falling from your lips, your heat pulsing.

“Yeah, baby?” He asked smuggly before scootching down the bed a little more so he could scatter wet, open mouth kisses to the insides of your thighs, purposely avoiding going where you really wanted him as your hips twitched up slightly, making Mason chuckle.

“Please…” Your voice was laced with desperation but Mason was feeling cheeky, loving having you so desperate for him.

Mason moved his mouth over your mound, his breath hitting your core. You squirmed once more and Mason bought his hands to grip at your hips.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” His lips pressed a kiss to your centre and a whimper fell from your lips, music to Mason’s ears.

You looked down and the sight of Mason’s head between your legs made you go crazy. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, finding it difficult to hold yourself together.

His hands played with the sides of your knickers and he looked up at you, feeling smug as your eyes were glazed over, completely fixated on him and what he was doing.

He pulled them down your legs, his eyes falling straight to your pussy, his cock twitching.

“Gonna be a good girl for me, huh?”

You whimpered at his words and Mason huffed smugly, finally giving what you wanted and planting a single kiss to your clit.

He pulled away again, dragging the tip of his finger slowly up your slit, watching on as you squirmed under his touch.

Mason took in the sight of how wet your folds were, and he couldn’t wait to ruin you.

He ducked his head down to blow on your most sensitive area, smirking when he saw your entire body twitch at the sensation. He used his fingers to part your lips slightly, groaning as you pulsed around nothing, whimpering slightly in desperation.

Mason left kitten licks all around your slit, gasps leaving your mouth as you felt him so close to where you were so desperate for him. Finally Mason’s tongue licked a stripe to your clit, and you let out a strangled mix between a gasp and a moan, your whole body relaxing and sinking into the mattress beneath you.

You reached your hands down to tangle into his hair as his tongue continue to perfectly work your nub, swirling round in circles. You lightly tugged at Mason’s hair and he moaned in response, the sound vibrating through your core.

The sweet sounds falling from your lips as his tongue worked you to perfection had Mason repositioning himself between your legs so his lower body came into contact with the bed beneath him, allowing him to shamelessly rut his hips into the soft mattress, relieving some of the pressure he was feeling.

Mason bumped his nose to your clit and you brought your hand to the nape of his neck, softly playing with the hair there as his tongue swiped over your slick folds. Your hips jolted slightly and your pussy rubbed against his nose once more, eliciting the sweetest of moans from your lips, causing Mason to moan, muffled into your heat.

He pulled away before using his thumb to mimic the previous movements of his tongue, the perfect circles making you throw your head back against the pillows below you.

Mason slowly sunk one finger into you, intently focused on your face to make sure you weren’t in any kind of pain. He curled his finger and as it brushed against the spongey part, he felt you clench around him, your nails seeping into the skin at his neck.

He whined as his lips stayed attached to your clit, licking and gently suckling as he straightened out the finger he had buried deep in you before curling it to graze against your g-spot. You were in complete bliss, a mixture of whimpers and moans leaving your parted lips as you watched him work your body so sweetly.

Mason slipped a second finger in, sliding in so easily with how wet he had got you. He was quick to find the same rhythm as before, his fingers curling at the perfect angle as he expertly fucked you with them.

The pleasure was piling in your tummy and your thighs were shaking, threatening to close around his head. Mason used his free hand to press into the soft flesh of your thigh, pinning you down.

You could feel your high approaching and you wanted nothing more than for Mason to carry on just what he was doing, so when he pulled his mouth away you let out a strangled groan in dismay. Mason smirked to himself as he watched on as you writhed beneath him, his fingers still inside of you as you looked up at him, eyes wide and confused as you stuck out your bottom lip at the loss of contact.

You were taken by surprise when you felt Mason spit onto your clit, his fingers slipping out of you to messily spread his salvia on your pussy.

“Fuck, Mason…” You moaned, knowing you wouldn’t last much longer. Your thighs involuntary tried to close around his head once more, and he dug his fingers into your skin harder, sure to leave fingerprints as he pinned your thigh back to give his the access he needed.

He slipped two fingers back into you, pumping and curling them to brush perfectly against your g-spot as his tongue swirled your now overly sensitive clit.

“Mase.” A strangled moan slipped from your lips as you struggled to compose yourself any longer. “I don’t think - I feel like I’m gonna - oh.”

The noise that fell from your lips only spurred him on more. He removed his hand from your hip and placed it flat on your stomach, pressing down slightly. Mason was certain he could feel his own fingers as they curved inside of you, the feeling making him groan into your core.

“Masey, baby-“

“It’s okay, princess.” Mason mumbled into your pussy, focused on keeping his movements exactly the same, wanting nothing more than to bring you to your high now. “Let go for me, angel. Come all over my tongue.” He reattached his lips to your clit, gently sucking and licking as he felt your pussy tightly grasp around his fingers.

A uncontrollable sob fell from your lips as your thighs tightened around him, allowing the blissful feeling to completely take over your body. You pulled at his hair a little harder than you probably should’ve as his fingers and tongue made you see stars, and he groaned into your core.

Once you both managed to calm your breathing, Mason gently slipped his fingers out, trying his best to compose himself.

You tried your best to open your eyes but you couldn’t help them from falling shut as you took some breaths, attempting to bring yourself back fo reality.

Mason surfaced from between your legs, a massive grin across his face as your chest raised up and down rapidly. His lips were glistening and you felt yourself blush at the mess you made on his face, but Mason was completely shameless. He held your face and kissed you softly and tenderly before slipping his tongue into your mouth, the taste of yourself on him making you pull away shyly.

”I’ll be back in 5 minutes, I just need to have a shower real quick.” Mason said before planting a final quick kiss to your lips, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart twinge in disappointment at him leaving you already, even if it was just for 5 minutes.

“Oh.” You mumbled out disappointed, which Mason picked up on straight away.

“Sorry angel, it’s just - I’ve made a bit of a mess in my pants.” He trailed off, nuzzling his face into your neck in embarrassment.

Your eyes widened and you raised your eyebrows. “You… you came in your pants?” You questioned, a little unsure till you felt Mason nod into your neck.

He pulled back up to look at you, his face reddening. “I couldn’t help it. The noises you were making and how you were tugging my hair just made me so fucking hard, baby.”

“Oh.” You couldn’t help but feel pleased with yourself, your confidence increasing more and more. “Maybe I could… join you in the shower?” You asked hopefully. “I guess I need to clean up too.”

Mason grinned, grabbing your hand and leading the way into his en-suite where the pair of you basked in the warm water, the shower full of nothing more than lots of sweet touches and soft kisses as you washed each other clean.

- - - - -

[hihiimmimi]

Hihi!! Idk why but Hero's hair was a MENACE to draw. I usually never have trouble with it, but then again I'm trying out the omori calendar artstyle (djsjkdsm I think the reason why I keep failing at the omori artstyle is because I keep trying to implement all of them at the same time)

Yeahh colouring him was actually a last minute choice lel- I figured I should colour him for the whole feel, but I think it just made it look less omori..

Probably because the original omori calendar art is more saturated? But then I started overthinking about people accusing me of white washing him,,, If you put Mari and Hero side by side, it looks normal, but by himself it might stir some problems and I really didn't want that--

[dizzybizz]

"this is regrettably the best kiss of your life, you understand?"

[horsemeatluvr23]

the juppet !! i just realised he is jerma posing i swear that was unintentional...... i spent so long digging thru muppet concept art and looking at old puppet designs just to end up doing a rly simple drawing but. i love joehills!! i have only been watching them for like 4 years but their videos r so special to me :3

[turtleblogatlast]

Proof that I do do comics sometimes

[kyouka-supremacy]

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[hopetatic]

i had no clue i would draw him again. but well, what am i gonna do with 3 hours of newfound knowledge about this one arg? Nothing? AS IF

Close ups below

[skitskatdacat63]

catie I NEED more vettonso lore for your au. please. (love u)

Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!! C!!! Thank you so much for asking!! This took me a bit cause there’s a lot of stuff I want to cover and I had to figure out how to balance the explanation of the historical context and how I apply it to my AU. But seriously thank you for asking because I did more research to write this post and learned a lot of things that make me feel deranged but I cannot bring any of this up to anyone irl without sounding like a lunatic. I’d apologize for the length but you should expect this from me by now! (I realized this doc for this was 1.5k+ my god)

Basic Info: early 1700s historical AU with arranged marriage plot 

Historical Context:

Okay, so this AU is based on a real historical event: The War of The Spanish Succession. Which is when the Spanish Throne was without a clear line of succession because the bloodline(Spanish Habsburgs) died out. So then, even though the previous Spanish King named his successor(Philip V, a Duke related to the French Royal family - representing Fernando in this AU), the Habsburgs still thought they should be allowed to keep the throne within their dynasty, thus offering up the second son(Charles VI - representing Seb in this AU) of the Holy Roman Emperor. So obviously they had to start a war because of it. But then the end result ended up being that because Charles VI’s older brother, the Holy Roman Emperor at the time, died during the war(because of illness though so it would have happened regardless), he became the next Emperor and Philip V ended up becoming the Spanish King after all, rendering it all pointless imo.

How does this relate to Vettonso?:

I'm not overly interested in either Charles VI and Philip V as people, but rather the roles they fulfill in this conflict, but obv I can’t help but draw on details from their lives. As I mentioned, Fernando is now Fernando I of Renault/France Spain and Seb is Sebastian I of Red Bull Austria. This is supposed to be like 2010-2012!Vettonso with Ferrari!Fernando and RBR!Seb(but like Fernando's title of Duke coming from France, because of his championships with Renault.) This AU is kinda just me looking at this historical event and thinking: wouldn’t a gay arranged marriage solve this succession quandary? But also just that it reminds me of Fernando and Seb’s rivalry, and the nationalities/kingdoms fit pretty well!!

Think about the throne of Spain as akin to winning a race, but becoming Holy Roman Emperor as winning the whole entire competition.(Also side note: real life Charles VI didn’t become a king until he became Emperor and adopted all of his brother’s titles, but I want Seb to be a boy king in this AU, so he can have a title as a treat.) Imagine you’re competing for something and you win it, but the only reason you win is because the other competitor won an even bigger prize!!!! Yay you got what you wanted but the boy king is now the emperor of most of Europe. And now you are stuck with him through lawfully wedded arranged marriage because they let you have what you wanted but only under the condition that the two kingdoms are still united. Yeah Fernando got the title, but Seb gained even more titles(get it???) 

They probably have a lot of animosity coming into the marriage, like “how could I ever build a relationship with the man who tried to steal my birthright?” but then realize they’re pretty similar after all. Though obviously Fernando has a lot more resentment than Seb because Seb won the whole damn thing! He would have control over Spain as he’s the king but since it's still within the domain of the empire, Seb would always have the final say. And Seb tries to be magnanimous like “Don’t worry, I won’t interfere”, and Fernando is all snide with comments like “Oh thank you great imperial majesty, can I really? Would you really allow me to do so?” But eventually become loving co-rulers that still constantly snipe at each other over different decisions the other makes. 

Some headcanons(I guess you’d still call it headcanons even if it's your own AU bcs it still comes from your head) + some fun facts from real life that have brainrotted me so I’m putting them in:

Their dynamic is just Seb being a very righteous, bratty boy king emperor who is unabashed about being that way, because he feels that it is his right, but still has a heart of gold and wants to treat his husband well no matter the circumstances leading to their marriage. And then Fernando is like a stray cat that keeps hissing and scratching because it’s really hard for him to accept the circumstances because he still feels humiliated, even though he got everything he wanted, but he still can’t help but be charmed by this baby emperor because he sees attributes of himself in Seb, and can’t really fault him because he would be the exact same, flaunting his power, if he were in Seb’s shoes. 

They would have to speak in French to each other because that’s their shared language but eventually attempt to learn each other’s native languages! Imagine Seb has to travel to Spain to give some Emperor speech and Fernando then bullies him for his bad Spanish. 

They would probably split where they live based on a schedule or by need. Yes, Fernando is the King of Spain but he is also the Emperor’s husband so he does have to spend time in the capital, Vienna. And then since Spain is a part of the empire, Seb has to go routinely, but y’know also to spend time with his husband. They find that their marriage as well as their politics is full of having to make concessions and compromises in order to make it work. 

Something I find funny is that as compensation for not getting the Spanish throne back, Spain had to cede some Italian territories to the Empire. That is literally the Ferrari plot with the transfer from Fernando to Seb!!

I’m not sure how the titles would work in this AU because obviously a m/m political marriage has not ever happened(as far as I know.) But I guess Fernando would just be King Fernando I of Spain and then Seb would be Holy Roman Emperor Sebastian I with the million titles that come with being in that role(though like most importantly Archduke of Austria and King of Bohemia and Hungary, etc.) I like the idea that Seb tries to share some titles with Fernando as a show of good will but Fernando is so affronted, mostly just from embarrassment, like “oh you think I need your good will?? I can’t be happy with what I earned in my own right??” But their kids would receive both titles and would be split in the traditional way, like first kid getting it all mostly, but the others still being nobility obv(yes.. there would be mpreg because of the plot need for succession….don’t ask who…)

They bond through their love of horses, particularly fast horses. The first time they go riding together, they’re both like awkwardly trying to act very proper as a sense of showmanship to the other like “I’m more mature than you”, but then can’t stop trying to get ahead of the other person and eventually break into a full-on race. Their aids are mutually like “oh god, they’re both the same type of insane.” 

Irl Charles VI was so salty about losing the throne that he wouldn’t stop dressing like a traditional Spanish monarch. I can totally see Seb doing that and Fernando getting so pissed with him like “you became emperor!! What more could you possibly want???’ and Seb then fixing him with his biggest pout and saying “your throne!” But also Fernando being weirdly into it because it’s basically Seb presenting himself blatantly as Fernando’s spouse. 

In that same vein, I’m going crazy over how there’s a painting from before the war, of Philip V wearing vestments from both the French order of chivalry and the Habsburg order of chivalry. Like basically stating the desire to see those two lines combined into one kingdom, which fits so well into this AU. Just Seb going crazy over how Fernando is willingly branding himself as belonging to Seb’s house. 

A testimony of Philip V’s personality is that he was a “neurotic, vacillating ruler, concerned with outward decorum and brave only in battle,” god can you not sense the energy of Fernando in that statement???

Very important to me that Charles VI reportedly had many male lovers, and that his soulmate was one of his courtiers. Maybe there can be a bit of Martian or Sebson cheating plot with them being his courtiers hahaha  

Not very relevant in this AU but there’s something about how Philip V had the longest ever reign of a Spanish monarch. Is that not Fernando??? Old man who will rule on forever, or should I say, forever keep his seat 

I already obv posted the wip for this but I'll include it here again as visual rep hehehe:

I've spent way too much time lately trying to research the fashion of the time ugh. But this, as I said, is like first joint portrait session into the marriage. And I guess I kind of want them to be wearing their corronation clothing, which I'm pretty solid on for Seb but still need to research more for Fernando. I think I'll maybe try and just put him in the afformentioned traditional Spanish monarch clothing, but the fact that it's all black kinda bores me, I'd rather he wear red!! This is like a typical royal couple type pose, except they're being more tactile. Also there's something to be said about the symbolism of Fernando being the one standing and Seb being the one sitting hehehe....

[reinabeestudio]

Tfw the wind blows your hat away AGAIN and you gotta go find it in the middle of a blizzard atop a mountain by yourself

[mobblespsycho100]

t4t laios toshiro exactly the same relationship but toshiro realised young that she was a girl n has never met another trans person so seeing laios transition after meeting her just continues to perplex and frustrate her (she wants to Fix laios so bad but by god she's annoying. kabru can do it instead ig)

HELPMe yeah yeah truly a t4t love story for the ages

[longagoitwastuesday]

So so indebted to u for posting those lovely illustrations from Cyrano <333 & even more so for yr tags!! I'm completely in love w yr analysis, please feel free to ramble as long as u wish! Browsing through yr Cyrano de Bergerac tag has given me glimpses of so many adaptations & translations I'd never heard of before! I'll be watching the Solès version next, which I have only discovered today through u ^_^ As for translations, have u read many/all of them? I've only encountered the Renauld & Burgess translations in the wild, & I was curious to hear yr translation thoughts that they might guide my decision on which one I buy first (not necessarily Renauld or Burgess ofc). Have a splendid day & sorry for the likespam! 💙

Sorry for the delay. Don't mind the likespam, I'm glad you enjoyed my tags about Cyrano, and that they could contribute a bit to a further appreciation of the play. I loved it a lot, I got obsessed with it for months. It's always nice to know other people deeply love too that which is loved haha I hope you enjoy the Solès version, it may well be my favourite one!

About translations, I'm touched you're asking me, but I don't really know whether mine is the best opinion to ask. I have read... four or five English translations iirc, the ones I could find online, and I do (and especially did, back when I was reading them) have a lot of opinions about them. However, nor English nor French are my first languages (they are third and fourth respectively, so not even close). I just read and compare translations because that's one of my favourite things to do.

The fact is that no translation is perfect, of course. I barely remember Renauld's, but I think it was quite literal; that's good for understanding the basics of the text, concepts and characters, but form is subject, and there's always something that escapes too literal translations. Thomas and Guillemard's if I recall correctly is similar to Hooker's in cadence. It had some beautiful fragments, some I preferred over Hooker's, but overall I think to recall I liked Hooker's more. If memory serves, Hooker's was the most traditionally poetic and beautiful in my opinion. Burgess' is a whole different thing, with its perks and drawbacks.

Something noticeable in the other translations is that they are too... "epic". They do well the poetic, sorrowful, grief stricken, crushed by regrets aspects of Cyrano and the play in general, but they fall quite short in the funny and even pathetic aspects, and that too is key in Cyrano, both character and play. Given the characteristics of both languages, following the cadence of the French too literally, with those long verses, makes an English version sound far too solemn at times when the French text isn't. Thus Burgess changes the very cadence of the text, adapting it more to the English language. This translation is the one that best sets the different moods in the play, and as I said before form is subject, and that too is key: after all, the poetic aspect of Cyrano is as much true as his angry facet and his goofy one. If Cyrano isn't funny he isn't Cyrano, just as he wouldn't be Cyrano without his devotion to Roxane or his insecurities; Cyrano is who he is precisely because he has all these facets, because one side covers the other, because one trait is born from another, because one facet is used as weapon to protect the others, like a game of mirrors and smoke. We see them at different points through the play, often converging. Burgess' enhances that. He plays with the language itself in form and musicality, with words and absences, with truths masking other truths, with things stated but untold, much like Cyrano does. And the stage directions, poetic and with literary value in their own right in a way that reminded me of Valle Inclán and Oscar Wilde, interact with the text at times in an almost metatextual dimension that enhances that bond Cyrano has with words, giving them a sort of liminal air and strengthening that constant in the play: that words both conceal and unveil Cyrano, that in words he hides and words give him away.

But not all is good, at all. Unlike Hooker, Burgess reads to me as not entirely understanding every facet of the characters, and as if he didn't even like the play all that much, as if he had a bit of a disdainful attitude towards it, and found it too mushy. Which I can understand, but then why do you translate it? In my opinion the Burgess' translation does well bending English to transmit the different moods the French text does, and does pretty well understanding the more solemn, cool, funny, angry, poetic aspects of Cyrano, but less so his devotion, vulnerability, insecurities and his pathetism. It doesn't seem to get Roxane at all, how similar she is to Cyrano, nor why she has so many admirers. It does a very poor job at understanding Christian and his value, and writes him off as stupid imo. While I enjoyed the language aspect of the Burgess translation, I remember being quite angry at certain points reading it because of what it did to the characters and some changes he introduces. I think he did something very questionable with Le Bret and Castel-Jaloux, and I remember being incensed because of Roxane at times (for instance, she doesn't go to Arras in his version, which is a key scene to show just how much fire Roxane has, and that establishes several parallels with Cyrano, in attitude and words, but even in act since she does a bit what Cyrano later does with the nuns in the last act), and being very angry at several choices about Christian too. While not explicitly stated, I think the McAvoy production and the musical both follow this translation, because they too introduce these changes, and they make Christian as a character, and to an extent the entire play, not make sense.

For instance, once such change is that Christian is afraid that Roxane will be cultured (McAvoy's version has that infamous "shit"/"fuck" that I detest), when in the original French it's literally the opposite. He is not afraid she will be cultured, he is afraid she won't, because he does love and appreciate and admires those aspects of her, as he appreciates and admires them in Cyrano. That's key! Just as Cyrano longs to have what Christian has, Christian wants the same! That words escape him doesn't mean he doesn't understand or appreciate them. The dynamics make no sense without this aspect, and Burgess (and the productions that directly or indirectly follow him) constantly erases this core trait of Christian.

Another key moment of Christian Burgess butchers is the scene in Arras in which Christian discovers the truth. Burgess writes their discussion masterfully in form, it's both funny and poignant, but it falls short in concept: when Cyrano tells him the whole discussion about who does Roxane love and what will happen, what they'll do, is academic because they're both going to die, Christian states that dying is his role now. This destroys entirely the thing with Christian wanting Roxane to have the right to know, and the freedom to choose, or to refuse them both. As much as Cyrano proclaims his love for truth and not mincing words even in the face of authority, Cyrano is constantly drunk on lies and mirages, masks and metaphors. It's Christian who wants it all to end, the one who wants real things, the one who wants to risk his own happiness for the chance of his friend's, as well as for the woman he loves to stop living in a lie. That is a very interesting aspect of Christian, and another aspect in which he is written as both paralleling and contrasting Cyrano. It's interesting from a moral perspective and how that works with the characters, but it's also interesting from a conceptual point of view, both in text and metatextually: what they hold most dear, what they most want, what most fulfills them, what they most fear, their different approaches to life, but also metatextually another instance of that tears/blood motif and its ramifications constant through the whole text. Erasing that climatic decision and making him just simply suicidal erases those aspects of Christian and his place in the Christian/Cyrano/Roxane dynamic, all for plain superficial angst, that perhaps hits more in the moment, but holds less meaning.

Being more literal, and more solemn, Hooker's translation (or any of the others, but Hooker's seems to love the characters and understand them) doesn't make these conceptual mistakes. Now, would I not recommend reading Burgess' translation? I can't also say that. I had a lot of fun reading it, despite the occasional anger and indignation haha Would I recommend buying it? I recommend you give an eye to it first, if you're tempted and can initially only buy one.

You can read Burgess' translation entirely in archive.com. You can also find online the complete translations of Renauld, Hooker and Thomas and Guillemard. I also found a fifth one, iirc, but I can't recall it right now (I could give a look). You could read them before choosing, or read your favourite scenes and fragments in the different translations, and choose the one in which you like them better. That's often what I do.

Edit: I've checked to make sure and Roxane does appear in Arras in the translation. It's in the introduction in which it is stated that she doesn't appear in the production for which the translation was made. The conceptualisation of Roxane I criticise and that in my opinion is constant through the text does stay, though.

[ratcandy]

(Sending this in an ask so I don't spam you with four different comments on your disability post. 💀 No need to reply. Just getting this out there.)

*dumps*

I'm seriously dealing with this right now.

Working on a fic with a potentially disabled robot character. It's not explicitly stated in game, but it is implied.

As a chronically ill person, I really want to lean into it, explore it, and show that the character is loveable and awesome as a disabled person. That there's more to him than what's disabling him without minimizing the impact it has on his life. Because I would want that to be said about me.

But like. He's a robot.

There's no resources available to fix him (LITERALLY fix him. As a robot) where he's located, so his disability is plausible in-game. But if I'm exploring what happens after, where he leaves his current location, the thought of fixing him comes up. There'd probably be resources available in this other place.

I don't want to fix him. I think it would send the wrong message. But also. Not fixing him might send a wrong message too. It might put blame on him, by making it where the only thing keeping him from getting "better" is himself, you know? Implying that he would get "better" if he just let himself get better.

I would really hate for that to be the takeaway from the fic. It's a really crappy way of thinking, and I've had to face similar accusations myself.

So I'm in a bit of an uncanny valley right now.. Not sure what to do about it.

Excuse me for the ramble. I just think it's neat that you posted this when I started really focusing on the issue. Is this a sign. What does it mean for me.

Anyway. The disability removal trope in media has always rubbed me the wrong way with its harmful implications, and it's uncomfortably common. :( Glad to know I'm not the only one who feels that way.

Okay I'm done. Thanks.

I saw this ask, looked up from my phone in deep thought, went on a whole spiel out loud about it, and then promptly forgot it came from an ask buT I"M HERE NOW, and I wiLL reply because. I think I could maybe offer some thoughts

...And it turns out I have Many Thoughts.

I don't know this robot character you're messing with or to what extent he'd "need" repairs, but I feel there's a few easy questions to ask first before you could decide whether it's a good option for the story! Better, have him Himself grapple with these questions and allow him agency in the decision (aka: Whatever you do, don't force it on him sdhgk)

Since I don't know what disability this robot's got, let's just say he's got an arm that's totally dead. Just can't be used. But just popping it off wouldn't be easy due to the mechanics going on, and perhaps the damage goes further than just the arm.

He's already learned to adapt to how that arm sits. He's learned to balance with the weight of it, knows how to avoid bumping it into things, is totally accustomed to just using one arm.

Now, suddenly, he's in a situation with high-tech engineers who could replace that arm no problem and make it work just as it always did.

Now he's got to ask himself,

"Do I want to?" I mean, obvious question, but really. If he's totally happy with how he lives, not despite his disability but just With It, then what would necessarily be the point of going through a whole procedure? And even if he's not totally happy, but only mildly inconvenienced at best now that he's adapted, is going through with a Robot Surgery and all the struggles of adapting with a new arm worth it?

"Would I be able to adapt to having two arms again?" Depending on how long he's had his disability for, this could be amplified by a lot. If it's been almost his entire life with the disability, having another arm again would be almost totally foreign. He'd have to re-balance himself without the weight, get used to the feeling of electricity circulating on that side of him, learn how to control that arm again, go through whatever the robot equivalent of physical therapy is, and that's IF the arm replacement goes 100% right. Which is another thing...

"What's the chance that the replacement doesn't work?" Assuming he's not given a perfect solution that just will totally work no questions asked, there's always a chance it just won't work. The body may not accept a new arm, the damage may have spread too far and any replacements would have to go further than just the arm, and would he be comfortable with that? And what if it not only doesn't work, but instead makes it worse? Would jamming a new arm into a damaged socket just spread the damage further?

If you want to lean real far into the robot aspect, have an existential crisis but Ship of Theseus style, especially if there's a lot of integral parts that would need repairs. Yknow, the whole "if I replace all the parts of a ship, is it still the same ship?" but in this case, Robot.

Also, from a writer perspective... one of the reasons suddenly curing a disability is seen is Not Great is especially notable in cases where the disability was caused by an injury (as opposed to being born with it). Because then there's likely trauma attached to it. There's trauma that the person/character has had to work through, accept, and learn to move on with. And that's not easy, especially depending on the severity of the disability.

And once they've gone on that journey to live with and embrace their disability, gone through the massive life changes and mental adjustments that are required to proceed with life, suddenly providing a cure will make that journey seem... like it had moot point, kind of.

It'd be like. I dunno, say Character A's ancestor did a bad thing. And they spend the whole story grappling with that bad thing their ancestor did that they had no control over. Near the end of the story they learn to accept it, vow to be better than that ancestor, whatever. Only for the story to end by going "Surprise! That ancestor never did it at all, they were framed! Your bloodline is innocent! Hurray!"

Does that make sense? Suddenly there was no point to any of that. It damages the story As Well as having less than ideal implications.

ANd my last point ....... About the "the only thing keeping him from getting 'better' is himself, you know? Implying that he would get 'better' if he just let himself get better."

I mean... putting aside any implication that being disabled is somehow "lesser" than not being disabled, as I doubt that was your intention,

Again, it mostly depends on the extent of the disability. Is he gonna die without it being fixed? Is he in utterly horrific agony that he's screaming about the entire time while the button for a cure is in front of his face?

Because even THEN, "how will I manage when suddenly NOT disabled" is a question that's gotta be asked and addressed. It might be the totally reasonable decision to have him take a cure, but the Ramifications of sudden curing have gotta be acknowledged, especially if he's been disabled for a while.

Is he choosing to hurt for the sake of hurting, or is it due to being scared/uncertain of what a life not hurting looks like?

OR, if this disability hardly bothers him, then... like. Again. It would make sense to NOT want to go through all the steps to get it repaired if it could just cause more problems. Say it's as something as small as an annoying twitch. Like, say his hands twitch a lot, perhaps even shake. But he's used to it. It's been years and it's just part of how he is now. He doesn't necessarily care to get it fixed, because it's... just part of him. At that point, it'd just be weird to see him as "keeping himself from getting better," because he's... fine? Relatively?

I dunno. For that question I guess it mostly depends on Is He Happy Right Now/is he content with his disability already. Because yea, if he is content, like... who cares if he doesn't fix it. Even if it's more severe like the whole non-functioning arm idea I mentioned earlier. Or hell maybe he's totally paralyzed! Hasn't walked for years! Found other means of mobility and has learned to adapt to it! Is totally happy while being paralyzed! Not mentioning how complicated the ''adapting to suddenly not being disabled anymore'' becomes with something as complex as that If he doesn't mind it too much, then.......... why go through all that trouble if he's Fine, right? Who is being hurt by that?

anyway. That was a really long post. I hope my rambles??? Help you at all with that?? I mean like I said in my original post there can be totally innocent reasons to "cure" a disability in a story, it just has to be handled with care and sensitivity. Give the character some amount of agency in it!

...yknow, like. So long as you're not going down the "i'm so miserable with my disability it's either i get cured or i die" route. because . u know. I don't need to explain why that's not great hopefully sdghKSLJDGH

OK ENOUGH RAMBLING!!!!!!! this gave me many thoughts about robot disability, something I do not typically think about

[katyspersonal]

I know we don't talk and there's stuff we may not agree with. But I am truly sorry you've dealt with a lot of drama over fictional crap. And I'm sorry if my posts in the past ever contributed to that. Hope you have a better day.

Hey... That's all fine, don't worry! After all, it takes a lot of time and Insight to realise that Gehrman is a very gentle and respectful man and Godrick is an absolute gigachad kdkdkshdffhhgfds /lh /lh

But yeah, on a serious note. It was quite frustrating to find out the real motivation under all that... mess was something so pathetic, but at the same time this is what happens when people make engagement with media and fandoms a moral, political act. Not necessarily a problem, after all, I was the one who concluded that the way a fan judges fictional characters and other fans will very well reveal how cruel they are to real people who do something bad, or how much they will forgive based on personal sympathies. And my mad ravings about caring about female characters! I think the problem comes when a fan is so insecure that they have nothing else besides this defence of ideals through fandomry. If your only way to assert yourself is to be a good guy punishing the bad guys, and that mad raving loredigger discovers there is NO bad guy, what is left of you?

This is why it is crucial to have passion for nurturing rather than for undermining! I think if you speak like this, you've found this truth too? This is true that I don't know you very much (mutual-in-law thing), but to be honest.. you didn't poison my fandom experience at all? I tend to never be aware about discourse until someone basically calls me for help fhdhgsdgdfs Can't scout the fandom tag regularly!

But not only it actually was a quite long ago I saw a "negative" post from you, but also I've seen through the posts that my friends liked or reblogged from you that you've actually became very eager person to defend people's passion and interests! I think the post that particularly got stuck with me was when you resented seeing someone's light die after some Redditor asshole "well aktualy"'d a thing they were excited about creating (not exact wording but maybe you remember too)? Like... you are fine, man. At that point I realised that you were a good fan and in the end valued people's creativity and passion over personal preferences. That you never wanted to be THAT guy, even if your interpretation could not be further from someone else's. Coming to terms with what actually matters in fandomry is very mature and I am happy to see this attitude!

I am still glad that you messaged me about this though; I did not expect this, but thank you! I think I will continue getting involved in fictional discourse because my autistic senses cannot ignore factually incorrect takes with a clear insidious motive, and.. eh, sooner or later, I'll piss off the wrong guy again. Don't feel bad for me when it inevitably happens :p I've accepted the shortcomings when I decided to be the debate guy. Simply laughing at some gremlin starting a discourse with the girls in DMs and not stressing over it is only funny until I realise that newer fans could get misinformed right off the bat.