#North Fork Falls | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inupibaldspot · 2 months

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Blue is the color of royalty.

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Staring Gojo as the crown prince and you crown princess in an arranged marriage! Sexual intonation is there but nothing major. Mentions of death and cheating as in infidelity. 4.3k words (this is usually too long for me to write)

Gojo remembers that day very clearly, his throat felt constricted, breath felt raspy with the strenuous inhale and exhales, the cuff of his shirt now soaked wet as he wipes his tears furiously trying to console himself amidst the crowd.

He was six when it was announced by the emperor, his father announced an arrangement of love between the Royal Family of Gojo and the Duke of the South. The young crown prince with as equally young you, the second child to the Duke of the South.

Through his tears he hears clanks of fork and plate beside him as his two friends were eating away while Gojo was wallowing in despair, he didn’t want to marry you—he has never even seen you!

Shoko the daughter of the Duke of the North simply liked coming to parties because this was the only place she didn’t have restrictions on how much sweets she could eat. While Geto Suguru, son of Count Geto simply came because he was told to by his father.

He sniffs as he tries to console himself, he already had a fixed idea on how he wants to get married and it was not this! He wanted to save a damsel in distress-be of noble or commoner blood and wanted that event to be a ‘love at first sight situation.’

He peeps over to where a outburst was as people surrounded a small figure muttering congratulations. Surely you were there. He thinks that you were probably surrounded by leeching adults, awaiting an opportunity for a slip-up which would cause an exaggerated rumors. Adults from high society were simply like that.

Gojo stands on the ball of his feet, trying to see over the crowd and from the push in between the cracks of the crowd, he does see you.

And you were beautiful.

You were adorned with the finest jewelry, size fitting your petite figure, with a beautiful dress adorned with classic lace and pearls. He swears in between his mesmerization that you were perfect.

So mesmerized he loses balance and falls over, his butt now on the floor as he soothe the ache while trying to stand up. Geto cackled at the sight. “ What’s wrong? Your expression is so dumb right now,Satoru.”

Gojo clears his throat as he tries to maintain dignity, the dignity of the crown prince. “The lady I am betrothed to is a pleasure to the eye. I am pleased…”

Geto sighs at his friend’s already being stupid. “But you know what I heard-“ he starts. “The young child of the Duke is like a machine.”

Gojo sooner or later (over the years you visited him quite a lot, often staying over at the palace as the travel time between the capital and the south was quite long.) he totally gets what Geto’s words that day meant.

You were literally a golden child for the Duke and now, a golden wife for him; the purest of all pure bred nobles. any work done is to be completed in a day, you oversee everything that is going on in the palace and doing a good job—so much so that his mom the empress was even letting you over see some matters.

“y/n,let’s go out on a walk.” Gojo would beam, excitedly walking over to you. “The afternoon sun is pleasant today.”

You had a straight look on your face as you stare into Gojo’s eyes, as if you were judging ever inch of him. “I rather suggest you get some training done, your highness. Your body seems quite feeble.”

Gojo gwaks at you who is now walking away,with a book at hand either to the library or his mother’s side—the empress.

Somewhere along the line Gojo realizes that you were coming over to butter up the emperor and the empress. You were not there to see him. Gojo seethed . Over time any attraction he felt when he first saw you is now crumbled and blown into dust by the winds. He could not care less for a person who was so busy to even spare a glance at him—fiancée or not!

When he was fifteen he was sent to a neighboring smaller country which excelled in military and academic—the country was said to be 10 years infront of any other when it came to their literary and research.

Gojo felt like he could breathe again, his bone pops as he stretches as he is finally free. Away from you for atleast four years. This new found freedom away from your judging eyes was making feel as if he were floating—he studied he swears, his academic score was always great but more than that he also spend his royal gold coins as he drinks away even though he was under age , and maybe even a few gropes to the beautiful ladies passing by.

This was the first time Gojo had been to the red light district and certainly it was not the last. But who would scold him, he was the son of the one of the most powerful empire Gojo Satoru and was the crown prince. Who would are say anything to him? The thinks to himself as he lays currently in bed, chest bare with a lady who is not his fiancée.

But don’t worry too much, Geto was by his side too! If his parents know about this— Gojo is at least relieved that he won’t go down alone.

At the age of nineteen, he finally comes back to the empire,now standing at a taller height and broad shoulders. The air around Gojo itself feels mature…and extremely attractive—to bad he was engaged at the age of six. He loves the gaze the maids near him gives, affirming and stroking his already enflated ego.

He sends a flirtatious wink at one of the better looking maids with a larger bottom as he signals a ‘follow-me’ as his head nods to a empty room.

Just as he was about to turn the corner,a figure popped up. He had crumbled when he was six and he has once again at nineteen. You stepped out of the corner in a beautiful blue dress with inside frills of white lace, the blue puff on your shoulder adorned with gold and you wearing the same metal on your ears and neck made it so much more ethereal.

“Your highness.My apologies, I’ve been so busy with the revolt at the south border it must have slipped my mind.” You speak, why were you not as fazed as he was. “I had not known you had arrived.” Why was your heart not racing like his was?

But he must say, the years have been good to you. You were taller but now shorter than he was, the fats of your cheeks now slimmed down making the rest of your features more enhanced ,more beautiful. You blink confused as Gojo’s eyes trail around, relishing every part of now an adult you. In this instance you are the most beautiful piece of existence there is in man kind.

“What?” He wears a smug expression as he crosses his hands and stands tall. “Did ya miss me?”

You blink, as if you were genuinely confused. “Yes I did. You are my fiancé after all,your highness.”

And there goes Gojo’s resolution to not fall for you—just with these simple words, he is once again head over heels for you.

You did miss him after all! Gojo giggles to himself when he remembers the interaction,while Geto sits on the sofa, as he sips in the evening tea that was brought in. “But it’s been what? Four years since been you’ve been away.” Geto says, trying his best to control his smirk as he sees thunder clouds form on top of Gojo’s head. “Maybe y/n had been seeing someone else.”

Gojo shakes the part of his brain which reprimands him for his hypocrisy, he had been with women, lots of them when he was away but now the simple idea of a man being with you, makes him worry as if he is ill. His stomach burns with jealousy; it would be worse if it were a single man.

Many men would be worse than a few, a few would be worse than two, a two will be worse…than one? No-

—It would be the worst if you have a simply been with one man who you’ve completely undone your heart to. Does your expression form to a loving one—one he is yet to see? Do you whisper sweet words into that man’s undeserving ears? Oh how he wishes there could be a battlefield where he could fight for your love then he would not lose!

Shoko blows out a puff of smoke, which comes out of a tobacco filled-elaborately design hookah—pipe. “Nope. Your fiancée has been single as a nun.” She says in a matter of fact tone.

“Wha-wait…none?” Gojo manages to whisper out, head still wrapping around Shoko’s reply. “She must have! She does well in high society, is beautiful, anything she wears becomes a fashion statement, and she known for being intelligent! She must had a man or two to console her in the absence of her fiancé!”

Nobles have always done that, husbands leaving for the red light district as soon as he is away from his wife, while the girls wife is in bed with younger workers in bed while the husband was away.

Shoko thinks Gojo is simply bratty as she waves him off, taking another pull of air from the pipe. “Nope—your lady doesn’t play,I think I’ve only ever seen her in work mode.” While Gojo giggles to himself on how Shoko referred to you as ‘his’ lady making her and a Geto raise an eyebrow.

And boy— in work mode you certainly where in his absence of his studies because now he sits in the dinner table,completely silent.

The long table filled with lavish food,the royal couples will most likely never finish and Gojo, the crown prince sits with his mother and father, the emperor and empress with his fiancée.

It was then when he realized—no felt it to his bones that he was replaced! Your smart brain and smooth tongue had worked his way into his parents' hearts and now he sits silently, not knowing how to join into the conversation as if he was the one who was to be married into the family.

“My…your highness.” Your doll like eyes blink at him and with a flutter of your lashes and a hand placed on his thighs, Gojo feels heat rush to his cheeks. “You must eat.”

“Gojo!” His father shouts from the other side of the dinner table. “Don’t be picky, you’re an adult now!” His mother giggled, bringing her hands to cover her mouth.

“Oh shut up, old man.” Gojo seethed , he stands on his feet, ready to walk away from the table. But of course his body freezes when you hold onto the fabric on his pants. He grits his teeth.

You were looking at him with a pout, eye brows furrowed as you shake your head in a disapproving manner. “You mustn’t speak to his majesty in that manner, your highness.”

But Gojo wasn’t really listening as his eyes trail down to your cleavage which was entirely exposed from this angle. God—he almost sees red, so much so that it even drips red…drips red?

You shriek, losing your cool as your fiancé stands with a confused look and blood dripping down his nose. You quickly turn to the Royal couple, “My apologies your majesties but the crown prince seems rather unwell so we will take our leave.” You grab a cloth piece from the table and rush to aid Gojo.

You place the piece of cloth on his nose as you lead him by his fingers with a gentle tug, you call out for the maids for help and a doctor while you make him sit on his bed.

The doctor shakes his head. “Your Majesty must’ve been stressed about something…or he may have overworked himself with something.”

You hum as you look at Gojo’s dumb look, a nostril filled with cotton. “What has been stressing your mind,your majesty?”

“Why don’t you think I have been overworking myself?!” He barks back, hand shooing away all of the workers in the room,leaving only him and you.

“Ever since you came back, you have simply been wasting your time away.” You shake your head as Gojo jumps,he is as guilty as charged. “You hardly even frequent the training grounds anymore, your majesty.”

Gojo turned his body and his eyes in your direction while he sits on his lavish bed as he reached out to wrap his hands around your hips,pulling you closer to him.

He rests his chin on your stomach as he looks up at you, you look down at him with a confused look. Why was he acting like this?

“Your majesty this, your majesty that—!” You almost laugh at the amount of sass in this man when he spoke those words. “Quit that and call me Satoru.” He demands.

You let out a smile, gojo thinking that this moment when he is graced with your smile has blessed his years to come. “Okay Satoru.” Gojo is simply undone when it came to you, a clumsy mess. As he feels hot in his head.

“Oh my —“ you shriek again. “Satoru, your other nose is also bleeding.”

Gojo thinks the best way to begin the day if at times when he sees you at the training grounds. After you had reprimanded him for skipping his training, the following day he wake up at 5am and trains till his training was completed by about 8am.

He sometimes see you walk down the near by pathway as he wipes his sweat, clinging to his body from the now heating sun and intense training. Gojo normally trains with Geto Suguru, now a Royal Knight of the Palance, as he is the only one who can keep up with him.

And when ever he does see you, people see the flowers bloom and the air suddenly becomes a tad bit hotter. Gojo waves his hand in the air like a child waiting for you to do the same. You lift your hands gently and offer a small wave, smile hidden shyly behind your other hand, a dignified princess indeed.

But one thing bad about your visits to the training ground? You were alone.

Gojo swings his sword, acting cool making his muscles on his back ripple as he knows your presence is in attendance for todays training. He is sure to impress you!

After his routine was done, he turns to you giving the most handsome stare he could muster with a personal gust of wind to help him today only to find you with another man… You, the crown princess with Haibara, another knight belonging to Geto’s team.

To make matters worse, you looked so adorable and cozy,body heat completely warm as he noticed you were in a jacket, a larger one, one belonging to the military. A jacket that was not his!

Gojo rushes over and quickly takes of your jacket gently before he swings it on the ground, before he gives you his jacket despite your complaint on how ‘Haibara was simply making sure I was not cold.’

He pout as you give him a confused look. “When ever you’re cold, just come to me… Don’t use other men’s jacket…”

There was one day when Gojo realized how easy you could slip away, gone forever.

You and him were in the Royal Garden, Gojo beaming at the thought that you finally decided to hang around him. Your eyes opens as you take a sip from the cup ,confused as to why Gojo was acting like a puppy when thier owner comes back home. Loveless marriage or not, you had to act like you two were in love. The palace walls have ears after all so sometimes you liked to humor Gojo—just a little.

Gojo hums as he has his chin on his hands,pupils turned to heart shapes as he beams at how lovely you are. When you suddenly dropped your cup as you look into his eyes. “y/n…?” Just then blood seeps through the crack of your lips as you tumble from your seat.

Before you fall to the ground,Gojo is quick to reach your arms before you head ground first. He shouts for help as workers and doctors rushed to them,as he wraps his hands around you pleading to the gods above that you are safe. “My love…please come back to me.”

You did gain consciousness the next morning to find Gojo looking at you with gaping mouth, the color under his eyes were darkened. Did he not sleep for the duration of your unconscious state? “Sato..ru..?”

His eyes well up as the skin near his eyes and cheeks flush red, with the first stream of tears you are engulfed and pushed into his arms as he bleeds your ears on how worried he was.

While he was away, he had not been a good human being if he were to be honest. Many of his letters from family,friends and you remain closed, probably burned to ashes by now. If he had gone through his letter maybe he would have been aware that it was found that you had a rather frail health.

While Gojo sniffles into the crook of your neck( he is definitely taking advantage of the situation ) you smile to yourself, a tiny one. Yes. This is the Gojo you remember being engaged to. A clumsy spoiled but good kid.

Shhh—Did you know the walls have ears?

But this time they are talking. There are whispers among the maids, worker, butlers and even the stable cleaner that her highness the crown princess has an affair—a lover. I mean after all your fiancé is a tall attractive man who is literally the crown prince. If such a person was showing such open affection but you were not reciprocating it? Hmmm? Suspicious! I rest my case.

“I was careless…” you mutter to yourself as your look outside the tall palace windows, eyes a few workers who were cleaning up stray leaves by the poarch.

“About what,love?”

A sudden reply to a question where you weren’t expecting an answer made you jump slightly as you peered to see Gojo looking at you with a smile on his face. “Good morning,love.” His hand reached around your waist as he bends down and kisses your forehead. Gojo has been acting far too much like a husband ever since he has been back from his studies and you were still not used to it.

“Kyaa— look it’s the prince and princess.”

“They’re so love dovey first thing in the morning.”

“I guess the rumors on the crown princess is fake…”

You two stilled as hushed whispers were heard. Gojo seemed rather displeased that he was interrupted plus evesdropped on as his hands comically tighten into a fist. “Those insolent fools must not want their tongue…How dare they listen to us speak—“

But you on the other hand had your eyes wide, hands near your mouth as you gape in realization.

Bingo!

You quickly turn to Gojo who seems to still at the unfamiliar attention as he jumps slightly, as you walk closer and place your hand on his chest which sends his heart heat racing. “I need you to act like a lover to me.”

Gojo blinks once.

Twice.

“Was I not a lover to you all these time—?!” He barks, a vein popped on his forehead.

You stare at him with pretty blinks of confusion along with furrowed eyebrows, “what are you saying? You’re my fiancé through arrangement.” You say in a matter of fact tone. “You and I are not lovers, Satoru.”

Gojo bites the inside of his cheeks, his heart is filled with unwanted emotions—anger, sadness,disappointment,shame? Fine! If he wants you to act like a lover— he’ll act like a love. Your lover.

Before you know it, one of his hands slips around your waist as the other grabs your face, his nose now against your cheeks making you shudder at the sudden change in vibe.

He smears his lips around the corner of your lips first, your makeup which took too long for your taste now smeared. He decides to now nip your lower lips, making you gasp as you feel him make tiny licks and nips. “Sa-satoru…” he groans when you say his name.

His lips are finally on yours as the corner of Gojo’s lips tug upwards when he was met in realization that you are eagerly waiting for him with soft presses of your lips as his tongue slips in pretty easily. Something bubbles inside you chest when your thoughts trail to the fact that Gojo was an exemplary kisser—your chest tightens harder when you are reminded of Gojo’s visits to women of the red light district.

You were aware of these but back in the days, you were not bothered at his actions at all—Gojo was simply beautiful after all. You did not mind ever since you first got engaged but at this moment, it tightened your heart as if leaves a nasty aftertaste.

You probably don’t know that Gojo has never stepped inside such business ever since he got back home—to you.

As he sucks, wet presses on your tongue and bites —just as you were feeling lightheaded and wanting more Gojo pulls away.

“Satoru…?” Gojo muttered as swear when he sees your disheveled state, hair a mess, clothing slightly crumpled and lipstick smudged in the sexiest way possible.

“What?” He feigns cool as if there isn’t a significant tightening in his pants as he turns around. “I’m just acting as your lover.” If he wants you to act like a lover. He will do as you say.

Now the walls are giggling, yeah…this phrase isn’t going to cut it anymore. The maids whisper hush talks to the chefs and chefs to the delivery man and then the public. The news is that the crown prince and princess were so in love, they could hardly be apart.

The crown prince sweeping the princess of the ground pulled into a hug, the crown prince sheepishly nuzzling into the princess’s crook of her neck as he comes from behind, quick passionate kisses along the lavish hallways when they think no one is looking( the pair know that they are looking.)

The opportunist in you quickly suggests to his father that it is wise to release the copies of letters you had sent to him when he was away—yea, you made copies of your letters. The emperor was pleased, he laughed and entertained your suggestion. Gojo at this point has given up on making you realize his feelings and simply does what ever you say…

The public raved over the release making the royals more likable to the public, there were even talks on how they already could dream of you and Gojo as the ruling royals.

For the public that wish does come indeed true in the worst possible manner.

The emperor had suddenly fallen ill as he falls into a rough bloody cough, sometimes can hardly eat plus with no energy that he could barely stand. By rule book, in such scenarios the duty as the governor of the empire falls onto the crown prince—Gojo thinks he is ready, he was born to do this after all but all preparations were interrupted when the revolt in the South became a bigger issue more so because that is the region you came from.

Your father, the Duke’s troops kept getting ambushed and were losing morale quickly. Gojo watches you who was praying , to the gods that your father and your people be safe. If that is your wish, he shall be your god.

The same night Gojo groups up his men and marches south. This is the least a husband can do for his lover.

You almost faint when you hear this news,muttering nervously under her breath when you were having a fig-jam toast breakfast in bed. The toast falls from your mouth. “What?”

Now you think you are dreaming, it was one disaster after another! You gently rub circles on your father in law’s hand as Gojo’s father calms you. “It is a duty of a ruler to help his people… Gojo will come back victorious,my dear. You worry too much.”

The empress soothes you, otherwise a straight faced person with never an emotion on your face becomes such a mess for her son. As long as you are by Gojo’s side, his mother can stay assured for the rest of eternity. If you were by his side, Gojo will remain smiling.

It took one season for the idiot to arrived, his hands broken and now hangs on a sling. “I hope you’re not too angered by my actions.” Gojo knew he was wrong to march off that day, he was unprepared too but when he saw the tremble on your fingertips, he simply wants nothing but to make you secure, safe.

He watches you walk towards him before you say. “I think I am dreaming your highness, I had not known you had arrived.” You still has a straight faced look as if your fiancé is all injured with even a broken arm, voice still so steady.

Gojo laughs at this but just as he was about to reply with a snide remark he is cut off, your lips are on his. “You worry me too much, your highness. I fear you are not good for my heart.”

Gojo kisses you. His working hand snaking around your waist. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be when he was away and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to mark every inch of you.

“How ever m-“ you push him away, gojo whine’s already craving the plush of your lips. “I am very displeased by your action. Even if you are the crown prince it is wiser if your discussed with the strategists and make a plan first. That was very—very unwise of you you highness. I cannot from the depth of my heart believe you would do something so stupid— honestly Gojo I thought you were so much smarter than that . Your behavior is very much unacceptable-“

Gojo almost bleeds from his ears as he listens to you lecture him, the crown prince, future ruler now on his knees. He fights back a smile fearing you would be further angered but his mind was filled with thoughts of , ‘shit, I can’t wait to be with this person for the rest of my life.

‎‧₊˚✧[Ending Thoughts ]✧˚: I almost made this a smut halfway through buahaha (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

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a-simple-imagine · 3 months

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Perfectly Pathetic

synopsis: when you take an interest in the new girl, regina takes an interest in you

pairing: regina george x plastics!fem!reader

words: 4.6k+

A/N - in the nicest of ways, please DO NOT read this if you don't want to read about toxic relationships. you have been warned. I don't want a repeat of last time. also we need more fics where regina is actually mean so

WARNINGS - swearing, alcohol use, general toxicity, toxic relationships and bullying/vague reference to weight

the clash of plastic trays and idle chatter brought alive the fragile student body of North Shore High School. on the outside this may seem like any other lunch room but inside it was a carefully crafted game of chess. every move was calculated. each person has their place and if you stray too far you're at risk. you're sat next to Gretchen Weiners. known for big hair and keeping secrets, she knows everything about everyone. opposite her is Karen Shetty. she... tries her best and looks adorable doing it. a ray of sunshine if you get to know her. and before you sits the most beautiful woman you have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Regina George. effortlessly perfect but needlessly cruel. she was the most popular person in school and one of your best friends.

perfectly manicured nails stab into the skin of your cheek as your head is yanked in her direction. razor-sharp eyes stare back. "are you even listening?" the answer was no but you didn't want to say that. "what are you staring at?"

a flash of blonde as she looks behind her. you push against her grip to look too. across the room sat Janis 'imi'ike and Damian Hubbard. you hardly ever spoke to them but you were lab partners with Damian. he was funny. today, however, there was a new addition with strawberry blonde hair, a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. you knew everyone at this school to some degree. a curse of popularity. but you had never seen her before. "seems they've got themselves a new friend"

"who cares," her nails dig a little deeper drawing a pained expression as she pulls your head back to face her. She holds your gaze for a moment. a silent challenge. before fingertips glide across your cheek and she goes back to leading the conversation across the table. you pick at the food on the tray with a fork but you can't help but be intrigued. North Shore was boring and predictable. a direct result of being under Regina's control. but this girl was new and you couldn't help but be drawn to that. to the unknown. to the possibility. three pairs of eyes as you push up from the table and march across the room.

"I haven't seen you around here before." was all you could think to say as you approached the end of the table. Janis and Damian share a look before settling on... confusion. You weren't ever particularly mean to others but you were guilty by association. people mess with you. they mess with Regina.

"oh," by the look on her face, she already knew who you were or at the very least your friends. "it's my first day."

"Where did you transfer from?"

"uh... Kenya," she seems unsure. you put it down to nerves.

"you sure about that?" a curious raise of your brow. "'cause you don't sound-"

"we're leaving" stated firmly as three girls breeze past. the blonde leads the way. the other two are just a step behind.

"so what made you move all the way here from Kenya?"

"my mom got a new job."

"couldn't find one-"

the sound of your name echoes through the room bringing the world to a stop. a weird silence settles over the room. "come. now." growled through gritted teeth and paired with snapping fingers. you were being summoned like a naughty dog ignoring their owner. a sigh as all eyes fall to you. waiting to see what you'd do but make no mistake, they already knew the answer.

"I'll see you around." a flash of a smile before you scamper after Regina.

"so your ears do work." is all the girl says as she shoves you through the door. you bite back any comment because that was how this worked. you may be top of the food chain to everyone else but Regina led the pack.

as the final bell for the day rings, you're shoving things in your locker when you spot the new girl. she seems to be struggling to even open it. you watch her for a moment. a smirk settling. this was another chance to talk and this time Regina couldn't demand your presence. "need some help?" it seemed to take her by surprise as a handful of papers drifted to the floor. a small chuckle, you reach down to collect her work and hand it back. "how's your first day going?"

she shrugs, taking the papers. "it's alright."

"anyone giving you any trouble?" you ask, falling to lean against the lockers. people around here were not nice and took every chance to show it. some more than others. She shakes her head. "you sure? if anyone does anything, I can sort them out." you give her a knowing look and she offers a sort of amused smile. "so you do know how to smile, it's cute. are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to guess?"

"it's cady. Cady heron."

"well, cady heron. the trick to these," you tap her locker door with your knuckle. "is to push in and pull up before trying to open it. annoying, I know but they're old." you watch her try again and this time it swings open. "see."

"Thanks." you linger as they shove some of their stuff inside. you notice a few stray stickers on the locker opposite.

"no problem." you push up from the metal. "I can show you all types of tricks to get through this hellscape if you want?" she shuts her locker and you both start walking towards the exit. "number one tip, avoid Regina."

"Isn't she your friend?"

"yeah," you nod. "that's why I said it. She can be... a lot. surely Janis told you that."

Cady looks at you for a long moment. "something like that." you let out a chuckle. Janis probably told her what a massive bitch Regina was. they had a less than favourable history.

"I should go. I'll see you around Cady Heron." as you both go your separate ways, you can't help but glance at her as she walks away.

having a study period just before lunch was both an absolutely ridiculous idea and the best thing to happen to your schedule. it basically guaranteed you didn't do any work whatsoever and felt more like a two-hour lunch period. seems you shared it with the new girl because she was sitting at a table scribbling in a book alongside Janis who was doing her normal embroidery or whatever.

"if it isn't Cady Heron," you comment, taking a seat on the bench. her face brightens at the sight.

"where's the rest of the coven?" Janis asks, not even bothering to look up from her work. "wait- don't tell me, a house fell on them."

"you're so funny Janis," an exaggerated sarcastic laugh.

"I think I can hear children singing... ding... dong the witch-"

"So Cady, how are you enjoying north shore?" you interrupt loudly and the 'song' trails off.

"It's fine."

"you don't talk much huh?"

her mouth opens but falls silent as Gretchen approaches the end of the table. she shoots you a less than favourable look. your brow furrows a little.

"Can I talk to you," pitch a little too high to say no.

"Sure," a shrug. you look at her for a long moment waiting for her to continue.

"in private," Gretchen urges. with a roll of your eyes, you stand up. flashing a smile at Cady, Gretchen grabs your hand and drags you away before you can say anything.

"what are you doing?" whisper yelled at you.

"I was just talking." god this girl was dramatic. you take your usual spot. she sits opposite.

"to the art freaks?"

"dude, it's fine."

"no it's not." she urges quickly, shaking her head "You know how Regina gets."

"Regina isn't here?" and she wouldn't be until lunch. only you and Gretchen share this free period. usually, you spend it listening to her gossip about people. she could not keep a secret to save her life at least not when it came to anyone outside of you and your friends; even then it's dicey. fun for you though.

"All I'm saying is you need to be careful,"

"don't worry. I was only interested in the new girl."

"that's worse," you just roll your eyes. "Regina doesn't like her."

"Regina doesn't even know her," you argue. "none of us do. she's been here like a week."

Gretchen thinks the idea of even wanting to talk to Cady is blasphemy. that it's better to avoid her but you think she's overreacting. Cady hadn't established herself at this school yet. right now she is with Janis but tomorrow who knows? she could be cool. it's a matter of perspective.

a pretty perfect smile does little to distract from playful eyes as you approach her jeep. the blonde is in the driver's seat. one hand rested over the steering wheel. the other typing something on her phone. She had sent a message telling you to hurry up but on arrival, neither Karen nor Gretchen were even here yet. you toss your bag in the back, climbing into your usual spot behind the driver's seat. Karen is usually next to you. "sit in the front, weirdo," she comments. you don't bother with a comeback, just moving to the front passenger seat.

"Where are the others?" you ask, glancing at her. the soft glow of the afternoon sun kissed her skin beautifully. black shades hang on the end of her nose. She really was something to be admired. Regina shrugs and then tosses her phone down. the car roars to life and you're starting down the road before you can think any more about it. it's pretty silent at first. the sound of the radio filling the space. the lack of your two other friends acting as a buffer was sitting weirdly. this wasn't your first time alone with Regina but she's been so grumpy lately. whatever you say feels like an invitation.

"so you like the new girl?" asked casually as she came to an abrupt stop at a red light. you just forward, the seatbelt digging into your neck. it drags up a quick cough but that could also be from surprise. other than that first interaction where she'd summoned you from across the room, you had never spoken to Cady when she was around. Gretchen may be dramatic but she probably wasn't wrong and you really didn't feel like risking it.

"Sorry?" feign confusion was... a choice but it seemed like the better option here.

"you like the new girl," repeated calmly; her eyes drift to you as yours move towards the traffic light. was this the longest red light in history? "right?"

now it's your turn to shrug. you find Cady intriguing but you're not entirely sure if it's interested in the way Regina is implying or just because you were so bored of the every day. "she's cool." a scoff as she pulls away continuing down the road. "you've hardly spoken to her."

"don't need to," Regina didn't miss a beat. Cady definitely didn't fit into what she'd consider cool but then again, neither had you. not entirely anyway and now you're here. you hang out with the most popular people in school. went to the hottest parties. you were currently being driven around by the Regina George. you never understood why or maybe you did and just refused to accept it was that simple. you know what everyone else says. that it's because of the attention you show her. you wouldn't necessarily say they're wrong but everyone gave her attention. She did always say there was something special about you. "I thought you at least had standards."

the rest of the car ride is silent as you think over what she said and Regina keeps to herself. the music is the only thing, keeping you sane until you pull up at the George residence. you always forget just how big her house is until you're there. As you walk inside, her mum appears abruptly startling you a little.

"hey, ms. George."

"hey girls," she singsonged. "how was school?"

"fine," Regina shoots back.

"well if you need anything? a drink? some snacks? advice? I'm here,"

"I'd actually love an iced-"

"we're good," growled as she grabbed your wrist hauling you up the stairs. "don't bother us." a confused look but she didn't let go until you were firmly inside her bedroom. door slammed shut. the blonde tosses her bag down.

"you should really be nicer to your mom, she adores you," you say idly taking a seat on the end of her bed, placing your bag down.

"you should shut up because it's none of your fucking business."

jesus christ. you kinda regret the decision to come over. "I just wanted an iced tea. maybe a little snack."

"god knows you don't need it," Regina comments. wow. okay. she was in a mood.

"what's up with you?"

"I'm fine," she responds. "you're just being so fucking annoying recently."

"I haven't done anything?" you've not been acting any differently so you have no clue what she's talking about.

"just absolutely drooling over the new girl. it's embarrassing." she declares, taking a seat on the bed.

"I..." you stop yourself because you're more confused than anything else. "we've spoken like once."

"liar" she responds. "I know you've been talking all the time," fucking Gretchen. "do you think she's pretty?"

"Cady?" Regina nods. you shrug. "I guess."

"prettier than me?" her head tilts. you can't tell if she was jealous or fishing for compliments; neither was her style. so it was probably a trap.

"no." you wanna say she's being dramatic but that wouldn't end well. She doesn't say anything, hardly even reacts. just cold eyes. Is she expecting you to say more? "of course not." you're waiting for the ball to drop. for her to make a snide comment or something. anything was better than nothing. but it just never comes. she takes out her phone and starts typing. you fall back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. you both just sit in the quiet. you're worried about saying anything that'll lead to more insults. god knows what she is doing on her phone.

"you're so pathetic." Regina eventually says. you'd take offence if you weren't used to it; basically a term of endearment at this point. you can hear her moving but don't bother looking until she's towering over you. dark eyes and a small smile that would seem genuine coming from anyone else. a hand cups your cheek but no nails follow; it's gentle and slow as she runs her thumb over your skin. what was happening right now? "do you ever think about me?" you blink a few times trying to make sense of everything. why was she being so nice? why was she being so gentle? why did she ask that?

"what do you mean?"

a roll of her pretty eyes. "you know what I mean." you did but surely not.

"I... don't know what to say."

"Because I think about you," your breathing hitches as you sit up. looking at her properly. "those pretty eyes," she moves closer. "these lips," her thumb runs over your bottom lip. you swallow hard. "do you wanna kiss me?" you just stare back. a smirk as she ghosts your lips.

"say you wanna kiss me." this felt cruel. you lean in and she pulls back slightly. a finger pressed against your lips. her expression is colder now. sharp. "say it."

"I... wanna kiss you," you dare and that smirk quickly returns. removing her finger, Regina leans in and connects your lips. it's soft and slow. not at all like you imagined kissing Regina George would feel like... until the girl pushes into you and it's exactly like you imagined. fast. forceful. like she wanted to devour you. A hand pushes you back against her massive bed and she moves to straddle your hips. your heart is beating so loudly you wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it.

"still thinking about the new girl?"

"I never-" You feel her press a little harder against your chest so you change your answer. "no." Regina tosses her hair over one shoulder, and a finger under your chin pushes your head up.

"I don't think you should talk to her anymore," Regina states before leaning down to connect your lips once more. "understood?"

you're too caught up in the moment to really gauge how serious she was being so you nod. "good girl." whispered against your lips.

Regina George had always been a lot. She always demanded attention and you often gave her it. you weren't ashamed of that. She knew you'd do anything for her. As did most of the school.

"Hey," Cady suddenly appears beside you in the hallway. she seems a lot more relaxed around you which was nice to see. however, you have not spoken to them since that weird night with Regina. She wouldn't like it. plus Gretchen would probably snitch on you immediately. "so we should probably figure out a time to work on our project." you've been paired up for an assignment in American literature.

"We can do it today after school if you want?" she nods. "I'll meet you out front."

"hey Cady," Karen slides up beside you on the other side, instantly looping your arms. ever the pleasant company. you wonder if she just wanted to see you or get you away from Cady. probably the former.

"I'll see you later," you say to the new girl before turning to your friend. "what do you want?"

"you're coming to Connor's party Saturday?"

"Obviously,"

"I have the perfect-"

"no," you respond instantly. you loved Karen. she was genuinely the sweetest person you know. but at every party, she tries to give you a Karen Shetty special aka a makeover. and every single time you have to say no.

"but I have the perfect outfit for you."

"is it actually perfect for me or just slutty."

"Both," Karen states excitedly. "please," pleading eyes as she draws you closer, hugging your arm. "please please please."

a loud groan. "fine."

"Really?" her eyes light up and circulation quickly returns to your arm. you nod at her which leads to excited clapping. maybe it wouldn't be so bad. maybe it was the perfect outfit for you but also sexy enough to satisfy Karen.

"oh here," you reach into your bag and produce a homemade friendship bracelet. you'd been tutoring some younger students for extra credit but sometimes you just hung out with them. "made them with some of the kids so,"

"ah thank you," she takes it eagerly. you had one for Gretchen and Regina too. only one of them would appreciate it though.

"why were you chatting with Cady?" Karen asks, sliding on her bracelet as she takes your arm once more.

"we're doing a project together," you explain. "you were literally just in class with us Karen."

"oh yeah," she smiles brightly. "I'm starving." you chuckle a little and allow her to eagerly pull you towards the dining room.

you're sitting on the grass. Cady is talking in your ear as you stare into the distance. most students had gone home already. The rest were working on homework or projects or extracurricular activities. you arranged this meeting but god were you bored. no offence to Cady but you kinda wish you'd been paired with Karen so you could be fucking about right now and then rush the work the night before it's due.

"are you going to the party Saturday?" you ask idly.

"What party?"

"oh shit." you forgot she was hanging out with Janis and Damian who definitely wouldn't have been invited. "connor mckay is having a party. The dudes a mess, big house though. you should come,"

"don't think I was invited,"

"I'm inviting you."

"not sure that's how it works."

"Just come Cady," you insist. "you can bring Janis and Damian too if you want. everyone will be too fucked to notice."

"uh, thanks then" she smiles a little, glancing back at her textbook. "I'll think about it."

"you have to think about attending your first high school party?" you question. laying down on your back. "I'll be there," you turn your head to look at them. "it'll be fun." you watch her carefully and soon she smiles.

"Okay, yeah."

"well that was easy," should have just started by stating you'll be there. "Be careful, Cady." you tease, looking back to clouds passing by but you can't help but smirk a little. "I'll start thinking you like me."

sat in the back of Regina's jeep as she fixes her hair in the overhead mirror, Karen inspects your face while Gretchen is copying Regina by fixing her hair. "can we just go in," you insist, slapping Karen's hands away. "before I regret coming."

"Why would you regret coming?" Gretchen questions, looking around at you.

"I feel stupid,"

"you look amazing," Karen urges. "perfect."

"you would say that."

"stop whining," Regina insists. flipping up her mirror. "you look hot. now let's go."

finally. "I'm gonna get so fucked up," you state as you step out of the car. walking beside Regina with Gretchen and Karen a step behind. the party is already alive. started at six. It was eight.

you reach the point in every party where you just don't want to be there anymore pretty quickly tonight. you're suddenly so aware of how annoying everyone is. sat on the kitchen counter, you swing your legs back and forth as you sip whatever was in your cup. Gretchen gave it to you. the party passes around you like you're not even there until an all too familiar blonde appears. "you look sad," you'd mistake that for genuine concern if it wasn't Regina "Already at sad drunk, that's impressive."

"what do you want Regina?" she had basically ignored you since you arrived so why she suddenly thought you were worthy of her presence, you'll never know. Shane was the object of her disgustingly public displays of affection tonight. "thought you'd be too busy with Shane."

"god, you're so obsessed with Shane," a roll of her eyes as she takes the cup from your hand to help herself. you watch her as the red cup comes to painted lips. not a hair out of place. so perfect. Regina was perfect. it was annoying

"I invited Cady tonight," you state, snatching your cup back.

"ew. why? I thought we agreed you weren't going near Cady anymore," technically you did. practically it wasn't that deep. who cares.

"And Janis and Damian but mostly to get Cady here,"

"desperate to hang out with losers," Regina sighs. "is she here?"

you shrug. "too many people. too big a house. I haven't looked, to be honest."

"Well," a hand finds its way to your thigh, running up and then down softly. "if you're good tonight maybe I'll give you a little treat."

"don't," you push her hand away. "go back to your boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend,"

"well whatever he is," you jump down off the countertop. "you made it very clear that I'm not what you want."

"you're so dramatic," she pushes up too. "I hate when you get drunk."

"Whatever."

"fuck sake," Regina responds. "you act like I said we're together or something."

"you're such an asshole," you huff. "I'm gonna find Cady."

"good luck with that,"

there are so many people at this party. you're not sure who half of them even are but they all seem to know you as you stumble around after the new girl. a constant barrage of 'hellos' and 'you look hot' in various forms. it's tiring. annoying. and you're about to give up and go find Gretchen so she can rub your back to make you feel better when you spot her. She was looking as awkward as ever. "you came." shouted over the thump of the music

"yeah," her face lit up. "Damian too. Janis said she'd rather jump off a bridge than come so..."

"That sounds... exactly like her," you nod. "I like..." you glance at her outfit. Regina would hate it. you don't love it. "your outfit. very school teacher chic."

"Thanks," she replies. "I didn't have anything to wear so,"

"it's cool. I'm just happy someone here isn't gonna irritate me- do you want a drink?"

"Sure," she nods. "do they have juice?"

"uh... probably somewhere." who asks for juice at a party? "I'll check. stay here."

you wander off back to the kitchen in search of some juice. your first stop is the fridge which is very stocked. you briefly scan for anything open, sweet and edible before just grabbing a carton of fresh orange and deciding that will do. pouring her a glass before heading back. she's still in the same spot only a particular blonde in the tightest little black dress has decided to strike up a conversation. you immediately know something is wrong. Regina can't stand Cady. it's why you told her you admitted to inviting her so easily. You wanted to piss her off. you can't make out what is happening but as you make your approach the redhead leaves. Regina turns to you with a sugary sweet smile betrayed by her eyes. "hey baby girl, feeling any better?"

"What did you say to her?"

"why do you have a glass of" brow knitted as she tapped her nail against the glass. "orange juice?"

"What did you say to her?"

"who?" you let her have the glass and she takes a sip. a visible look of disgust. "is there anything in this?"

"It's just fresh orange,"

"what the fuck? are you trying to sober up or what?"

"it was for Cady," you explain. "what did you say?"

the blonde shrugs. "she just had to go. not my fault." you don't believe her. why would you? She has a track record of being a conniving person who'll make trouble just for the sake of it. it'd be naive to think she didn't do anything."

"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch all of the time," you grumble loudly. a hand snaps around your wrist and suddenly you're yanked closer to her. hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"I let you off before because you were all sad and tragic but don't think you can ever talk to me like that," growled in your ear before she abruptly shoved you away. "Cady left. get over it."

"she only left because you said something,"

"she left because she realised you don't like her," the blonde snapped. such a pretty poison came in the form of Regina George as she turned her gaze on you. She was pissed but kept it quietly contained to just beneath the music so nobody else had a clue. "that you've just been stringing her along. pretending to be her friend. all because I wasn't showing you enough attention," she's close again. too close. she wasn't physically that tall but right she seemed massive as she loomed over you. her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. did she wanna kiss you or kill you? neither seemed smart. "she realised that you belong to me."

"I'm not a dog Regina."

"you sure about that," a mean glint in those pretty eyes. "you wanted my attention. you got it." she shoves the orange juice back in your hand. it's contents splashing your hand. "don't cry about it now." and with that she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd

// NEXT

#regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #renee rapp #mean girls fanfic #regina george fanfic

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petermorwood · 8 months

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Sunday lunch, or - since what with one thing and another we ate closer to dinnertime, it might be more of a Sunday dinch. :->

It was Moroccan-style braised lamb shanks, and it was really good; after 24 hours or marination and about three hours of slow cooking, the lamb was literally off-the-bone edge-of-the-fork tender.

Because the spicing was so complex (though NB like most North African dishes, not hot) we went for a simple accompaniment, plain couscous with a few strips of home-made preserved lemon to balance the deep, rich flavours.

I also included a dab of harissa with mine, and a couple of pickled chillis for zing.

Meat and recipe both came from Irish on-line source James Whelan.

I think this would work well in a slow-cooker.

BTW, on-line recipes like this can change with the seasons, so I'm adding it below the cut.

*****

For a more fragrant and pungent dish, the lamb can be covered in clingfilm and marinated in the fridge for up to 24 hours to allow the spices to penetrate the meat. The accompanying couscous can be jazzed up with pistachio nuts and dried fruits.

Moroccan Style Braised Lamb Shanks – Printer Friendly Download

Ingredients

4 lamb shanks, well trimmed

1 tablesp. paprika

1 teasp. each ground coriander, cumin, cinnamon and turmeric

Sea salt and cracked black pepper

2 tablesp. olive oil

1 large onion, roughly chopped

2 garlic cloves, chopped

2½ cm piece peeled fresh root ginger, chopped

450ml chicken or lamb stock

2 x 400g cans chopped tomatoes

1 tablesp. clear honey

Squeeze of lemon juice

Serve with a bowl of couscous

Serves: 4

To Cook

Cooking Time: 2¾ hours

Preheat the oven to Gas Mark 3, 160ºC (325ºF).

Heat a large frying pan.

Mix together the paprika, coriander, cumin, cinnamon, turmeric and one teaspoon of pepper in a large bowl.

Add the lamb shanks and using your hands rub in the spices.

Add a little of the olive oil to the heated pan and quickly brown off two of the spiced lamb shanks.

Transfer to a casserole dish with a lid and repeat with the remaining lamb shanks.

Meanwhile, place the onion, garlic and ginger in a food processor or mini-blender and pulse until finely minced.

Add another tablespoon of the olive oil to the pan, then add the onion mixture and sauté for 3-4 minutes until well softened and coloured from the spices left in the bottom of the frying pan.

Pour a little of the stock into the pan, stirring to combine and then tip over the lamb shanks.

Add the remaining stock with the tomatoes and honey, stirring gently until evenly combined.

Cover with the lid and cook for 2-2½ hours until the lamb shanks are meltingly tender and the meat is ready to fall off the bone.

Add a squeeze of lemon juice and season to taste.

We hope you enjoyed reading this post by Pat Whelan of James Whelan Butchers. Pat is a 5th generation butcher, cook book author and the director of James Whelan Butchers with shops in Clonmel, the Avoca Handweavers Rathcoole and Kilmacanogue, Dunnes Stores Cornelscourt, Rathmines and Swords in Dublin.

#food and drink #recipes #Moroccan-style braised lamb shanks

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johnwickb1tsch · 4 months

Text

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 4 all chapters

Winter is making you stir crazy, so on your day off you decide to go for a hike on one of the copious mountain trails around your town. There’s still snow on the ground, and in the middle of the day you seem to have the woods nearly to yourself.

You like being by yourself.

The mountain is quiet, but for the wind in the trees and some determinedly chipper little birds chirping.

You nearly have a heart attack when you round a bend, and there is a large figure in all black. For a split-second you mistake him for a bear, before you realize it’s Mr. Wick.

“Jesus, you scared me,” you huff.

“Sorry,” he says, seeming genuinely apologetic.

“Where’s Dog?”

“I left him at home. Too cold.”

You like it, that he considered Dog’s comfort in the matter.

With a small frown he peers around you. “Are you alone?”

“Yes. I hike alone all the time.”

You hope he will spare you the lecture, even if it secretly pleases you that he is a little worried for you.

He sighs a little. “I wish you wouldn’t. You never know who you might run into out here.”

You cant your head, finding this statement slightly ironic, considering.

“I can handle myself. You’re looking at a junior Tae Kwon Do black belt, I’ll have you know.” The latter you deliver with a sassy grin, because even though it has come in useful on a few occasions, in the real world you know it doesn’t mean shit. You were just a child, and it was a long time ago.

This actually succeeds in winning you what is nearly a full-on smile, for him. “Well then. Remind me not to piss you off.”

The thought is absurd to you. You’re no willowy waif by far, but you can tell right now that this totally fit—and fine as fuck, if you’re being honest—man could snap you like a twig, if he wanted to. You snort in answer.

“I’m sure it won’t come up.”

He levels you with a long look then, that you don’t entirely understand.

“So…you like hiking in the cold?” you ask, suddenly feeling a little awkward.

“I guess I’m used to it,” he answers. “I was born in Belarus.”

“Oh.” There is no hint of accent in his words. You reason he must have come to America at a very young age.

“And you?”

“I was not born in Belarus,” you confirm. It’s his turn to huff, and your heart skitters in your chest when he takes a step closer. He veritably looms over you, so tall and broad shouldered. You have a moment of clarity in which it really sinks in that you are totally alone out on the quiet mountain with this man, and he really could do anything he wants with you.

The thought titillates more than it disturbs, and maybe you have a screw loose.

“You’re a cheeky girl, aren’t you?”

There is a look in his eye, and for a moment you think he’s going to bend down to you. Crazier yet, you would have let him. But his hands remain in the pockets of his expensive down coat. The weight of his gaze alone is enough to make you feel as though he’s touched you, and you narrowly suppress a shudder.

It’s not because of the crisp mountain wind.

“So I’ve heard. I don’t like the cold,” you answer his real question. “But I do like the snow.”

He frowns a little. “How does that work out?”

“It’s an aesthetic thing.”

“Ah. Your artist’s eye.”

“I guess.”

“You’re very good.”

It is, in fact, freezing cold out there in the woods, but suddenly you feel warm, standing there with him, basking in his praise.

“You’re kind.”

He tilts his head, his hair falling in his eyes. “Not really,” he says, and it almost sounds like a warning. “But maybe, just for you. Can I walk with you?”

You were enjoying your solo excursion, but you find yourself nodding in agreement, unable to turn down the opportunity to spend time with your mysterious but favorite customer from the coffee shop.

“Ok. Are you making the loop?”

“Partly. My house isn’t far from the north fork of the trail.”

“Ah.” He must have just moved into one of the insanely expensive mansions tucked back in the woods, you reason.

It’s too cold to stand around and talk, so you hit the trail together. His legs are long, boy are they, but he matches his pace to stay with you. You don’t say much, but you enjoy each other’s company in the outdoors. You follow the line of a steep bluff on one side, old growth trees towering all around. It’s not a sunny day, but still bright from the freshly fallen snow. Later the forecast calls for more.

When you slide a little on an icy rock he makes a grab for you, and suddenly you do find yourself tucked in against the hard line of his side. It wasn’t entirely necessary—you’re wearing knobby boots, and you would have landed on your feet.

But it is endearing that he was worried for you.

The strength in his grip squeezing you steals your breath away. You only manage to get out a wheezy, “Thanks.”

He acknowledges your gratitude with a grumble, releasing you almost as quickly as he grabbed you. You get the sense that he is annoyed, somehow. You, however, know the memory of his body against yours is going to haunt your dreams that night.

Suddenly too warm, you unzip your jacket a little.

When you reach the trail marker for the north fork that will take him closer to home you look at him, expecting to say goodbye, certain he will be glad to be rid of you. But he keeps walking. “I'll get you to your car,” he says.

“You don't have to do that.”

“I want to,” he insists. “If you don't mind?” He’s softened again to you, for whatever reason, and you swear his moods could give you whiplash. Having this man to yourself for another mile isn’t the worst way you've spent an afternoon.

“Ok, if you insist.”

When you get to the parking lot, there is a shifty pair of guys hanging out in a beat-up Dodge van that might as well have “FREE CANDY” spray painted on the side panel. You look to John curiously, who is staring down the driver with a hard look in his eyes. Even though that look isn’t directed at you, it gives you a little chill.

The man behind the wheel confers with his bearded companion, and they decide to start up and chug away.

You feel like you narrowly missed a passing danger, like a shark swum past your hiding spot in the reef.

“How... did you know?”

“Seen them around the past week or so. Maybe promise me no more solo hikes until they move on?”

“Yeah. Ok.” Maybe they were just two guys down on their luck hanging out in a van…but they definitely gave you the creeps.

“Can I give you a lift home?” He would have miles to go, uphill, in the bitter cold otherwise.

“Thanks.”

You pause at your late model Rav4, kind of embarrassed. He drives a very nice black Range Rover, and though your car is a soldier, bless all four of its cylinders, it kind of looks like a piece of shit. “Um...sorry,” you say, moving some books out of the passenger seat.

However, he seems non plussed.

“No worries. Thanks for the ride.”

You start the engine, letting it warm up a little. He rubs his hands together, blowing on his fingers. “So…do you pick up strangers from the woods often?”

You laugh quietly. “You’re not that strange.”

He tilts his head in that way that makes you feel unnervingly seen.

“You don't really know me, y/n.”

Why do you feel like he's trying to warn you?

“So... you’re saying I should make you walk back up the mountain in the freezing cold?”

His low laughter tugs at your insides, making unbidden warmth spread through you.

“No, now that I'm here that really doesn't sound appealing.”

You dare to wonder if he means here, with you.

“Ok then.” You put the Rav4 in drive. “Where are we headed?”

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #john wick fic #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine #john wick imagine

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 5 months

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Jasper taking gn! reader out on a nature walk

Since this request isn't too detailed I'm just gonna do this as a hc <:

Jasper Taking You On a Nature Walk HC

Pairing: Jasper Hale/Whitlock x Human!GN!Reader

Warnings: mc much prefers to be inside, me personally i like a nice hike, though i get hives if it's too hot 😬, vampires have to miss walking in daylight tho, and since jasper is a former southern cowboy i bet he misses the warmth of it

Jasper taking his human partner on a nature walk

At first you grumble, wanting nothing more than to spend the day inside. You hated outside activities anyway. You and nature just didn't agree with one another

But he promises you it'll be fun. You haven't gone on one of his nature walks. It sounds promising so you easily relent, surprised by his odd request. He never asked of these kinds of things from you. He liked that you didn't like going out in public and preferred his/his family's company. It worked out for everyone. If he was going out of his way to ask this, then it was probably important to him.

Jasper keeps in mind your humanness and though Forks doesn't get a lot of sun, he's still worried about you receiving a sunburn. He lovingly slathers your face and arms in sunscreen.

As he recommended, you found your comfiest pair of shoes and threw on breathable shorts paired with a tank top.

"I promise you, you're going to have fun." He kisses the tip of your nose which still had a smear of sunscreen that hadn't quite been absorbed by your skin.

Thankfully his home was surrounded by a lush forrest ringing around the house so going to an actual trail wasn't a necessity. No witnesses to his prismatic skin. No extra worries to be added on this excursion.

You're not accustomed to the buzzing sound of bugs or the bumpy earth that was riddled with the crawling roots of trees that rise from above the dirt.

You weren't clumsy, not like Edward's human girl but you didn't possess very good balance. Jasper kept a guiding hand on your arm to make sure you didn't fall. You didn't anticipate how this nature walk was turning into an interesting girl scout lesson. He bends down to show you animal tracks that you hadn't even noticed prior. Shows you how moss only grows on the north facing side of a tree and how that can benefit you if you ever get lost.

"Do you plan on deserting me here?" You ask halfheartedly but Jasper solemnly looks at you with sad eyes that catch you by surprise.

"One day you may not have me close to you. You may have to rely on the safety of the forest to protect you." He murmurs.

What made up for the boring parts of the nature walk was spying the various wild life that cautiously poke their head out from their hiding places. Squirrels and wild rabbits darted in the opposite direction if you and Jasper got too close to their home.

Eventually you start to relax in the quietness of your walk. Jasper watches you with butterflies thumping along in his stomach as you gather wild flowers; commenting how Esme would love them. The position you're at allows specks of sunlight highlight your lovely features. He's reminded constantly how much he adores you. The others in his family didn't really appreciate walks like this. Couldn't fathom why Jasper enjoyed going out even though there was a risk of someone seeing him.

But he saw the world outside their house a miracle by nature's design. Even more so now that you were out there with him, taking in the glory of living things.

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale fanfic #jasper whitlock fanfiction #jasper whitlock #jasper hale #jasper hale x fanfiction #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper whitlock fanfic #twilight fandom #twilight fanfiction #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight

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wingedjellyfishflight · 30 days

Text

Freedom Calls

Sneaking in here just might be the dumbest thing you have done, but you can't sit idly by and watch this man be tortured and killed by your corrupt organization. You might not have any better options, but you know that he does. He just needs help getting to them. At least you are good with a lockpick and have security access as a guard. Makes it easier that way. Though, your keycard will be traced to you, and you know that means your life is forfeit. They haven't had time to start on him, though, which means that he should be well enough to escape once he is out the door. And the guard on duty tonight is well known for falling asleep at the job, hiding in a closet nearby. So that should mean you don't have to hurt anyone.

The only thing you didn't account for was him. The man himself.

"Why are you here? What do you want? This is a trick, I know it! No, I'm not playing your games." Finally, you resort to ordering him to cuff up and putting a bag over his head. You drag him out, fighting him every step and pretend to anyone you come across that you've been ordered to bring him to interrogation room 15, which no one wants to admit they have no clue where that is, so your confidently bored voice gets you most of the way across the facility without an issue.

You drag him into an empty bathroom and shove him to the handicap stall before dragging the hood off and uncuffing him.

"What-? Where?!" You shove a hand over his mouth.

"Keep your voice down. I'm trying to set you free, you idiot! Out that window about 10 yards is the perimeter fence. It's got a hole at the bottom that you can crawl through, and then it's straight to the woods from there. North of those woods is a main road where your team can pick you up if they are watching. Shouldn't take more than 10 minutes at a flat out, so long as you don't trip. Now, go already before we get caught, and I die for nothing!"

He seems torn for a moment. You think he is unsure if he should believe you, but the truth is almost worse. He grabs you and tosses you out the window before jumping out himself. Wrapping his hands in the straps of your tac vest, he half carries you like a doll, shoving you through the hole in the fence and following quickly. There are no shouts of alarm yet, luckily. He quickly pulls you to your feet and shoves you toward the woods. You start running, knowing if you are caught, then you're both dead.

At the wood's edge, you hear the first shouts. They are focused inside, and you know they have discovered that he is missing. You pick up the pace, guiding the two of you to a deer path that you know from your leisurely walks at lunch in the forest. He follows you, and you signal to follow the path. Surging past, he goes into a flat-out run. You struggle behind him, doing your best to keep up.

You hear a squad moving behind you. If they catch him, it's game over for both of you, but you know if they catch you that you can be a distraction, giving him a chance to escape. So you duck down a side path, barely wide enough for precise steps. It takes you mostly parallel to the road, east instead of north. After a few hundred feet, you begin purposely making extra noise to attract attention. You can hear them changing direction to follow you, slowed down by the heavier brush. The further you go, the more you outpace them and the less purposeful noise you make. Another few hundred meters or so, and you realize they have turned back, likely assuming they have chased wildlife instead of their target.

Breathing a tiny sigh of relief, you continue looking for a fork in the path to take you north again. You find it surprisingly quickly and come out onto the road about a mile away from the main trail. Almost immediately, you are held at gun point by a man who sports an enemy uniform. Well, an hour ago, he was your enemy, but now, you're not sure.

"Has he made it here yet? The trail I sent him on was only a mile south, and he was far ahead of me." Your question seems to put the man off kilter for a long moment. Too long. You brace yourself, waiting for him to kill you. Instead, a masked man comes around the corner of the vehicle.

"That's the one. Handcuff her and put her in the back. Let's go." You flinch as he handcuffs you tightly but cooperate every step of the way. You're sandwiched between the two men, and you sit quietly as the masked man drives the truck away. Surprisingly, it's as straightforward as just driving down the road to a nearby airport to escape. On board a big military plane, the questions start. They hate your answer that it was a spontaneous decision, and you just didn't think it was right, keeping him there. It's nearly an hour of questions before they seem satisfied.

You can't believe it when they just uncuff you back at the military base. Rather than let you walk away, the masked man pins you to the wall, pressing his body against yours. "You cannot return," he says bluntly.

You shake your head. "No, I can't go back."

He stares at you for a long moment. "Then, you are mine," he says with a growl, dragging you to his quarters without a further word, determined to cement your place at his side.

Alternate Ending

#call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader

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phoenixsbby · 2 years

Note

can you write something with Hangman where y/n is pregnant and she’s at a Dagger Squad dinner and she received some comments about how big her belly is compared to the other women, so she refused the chocolate cake dessert and Hangman follows her after the dinner in the kitchen, seeing her crying and stuff ?

thank you for the request :')

warnings: mentions of body size/weight, swearing

——

You’ve been eyeing that chocolate cake since the minute you arrived at the barbeque your husband, Lieutenant Jake Seresin, had been invited to. It was huge and looked moist and mouth watering and you could only partially blame the pregnancy hormones for wanting to shove the entire thing in your mouth with your bare hands. You’ve waited patiently though instead of giving into your chaotic, intrusive thoughts.

You’ve gone through the motions of talking with all of your husbands colleagues, you’ve spent time playing yard games with different members of the Dagger Squad (you totally didn’t get too excited and caused a scene when you and Rooster beat Bob and Phoenix in corn hole), and you ate your fair share of dinner.

And when it’s finally time for dessert, you do not hesitate in stepping up and grabbing a big piece of that beautiful cake. You see no shame in it, wanting to eat dessert. Not only because your pregnant and rightfully deserve to treat your baby to this homemade masterpiece but also, because if someone wants to eat some cake then who gives a fuck?

The piece of cake you have dangling at the threshold of your mouth freezes mid air when you make direct eye contact with one of your least favorite pilots you’ve had the (dis)pleasure of knowing since Jake had been stationed in North Island. Cobra.

You hold eye contact for a beat of silence, still with your cake hovering, and watch as he raises his eyebrows and dips his gaze down to your body. You can feel the judgement rolling off of him, in the way he’s staring at you when your eyes reconnect.

Without taking a bite of the cake that’s been teasing you all night, you place your fork back down on your plate.

“Can I help you?” You try to keep your tone sweet but there’s no missing the rigidity behind it. You completely stopped caring about being polite to this guy pretty quickly after hearing about the multiple sexist “jokes” and negative comments about other pilots he’s made in the past. You’re not a pilot yourself but, you’ve heard enough stories from Jake about Cobra to how shitty of a teammate (and person) he is.

“No, I just ..” Cobra purses his lips and shakes his head. You roll your eyes so hard, you’re surprised they don’t fall out of your head.

“Just what?”

“You really think you should be eating that?” He tilts his head ever so slightly to the side as he says it and you’ve never been a violent person but suddenly, you’re ready to swing.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on Y/N.” He grins and your blood turns from lukewarm to boiling hot inside your veins. He takes a step closer to which you react by taking one backwards. He dips his head close and adds, “We both know you’ve gained a some weight recently. You don’t see any other females here shoving cake in their mouths, do you?”

You haven’t told anyone that you’re pregnant other than your husband. It’s still early and it’s been a busy, stressful time at work for Jake so, you both agreed to push off telling everyone for now. And yes, during the time since you found out, your body has changed which is completely healthy and natural when you’re growing another human inside you! But the fact that Cobra doesn’t even know that and is still commenting on your weight, it makes you sick.

You want to scream and yell at him, to tell him off, to ask him where he gets the nerve to talk to anyone about their body but, all you do is blink. Your eyes instinctually flicker around the other women at the party. The other wives and girlfriends and pilots at the party are all beautiful and fit in their own right. Suddenly, despite knowing your body is doing its natural thing to support you during this stage in your life, you feel inferior to them in every way.

“Sorry to be so up front about it.” Cobra adds. Sorry my ass. “But, I think I’m doing you a favor. Maybe switch the cake out for some fruit or something.”

You glance down at the cake on your plate, the once delicious dessert looks about as appetizing as a pile of dirt and worms now.

An arm wraps itself around your shoulders and pulls you into a firm body. You glance up and see Coyote looking at you with furrowed brows.

“You okay?” He discreetly wipes a tear off of your cheek that you didn’t even know fell. Despite the answer being no, you nod weakly.

“I need to use the bathroom.” You croak out before shoving your plate in Coyote’s direction and making a beeline for the house. Faintly as you walk away, you hear Coyote throw a ‘what the hell did you do?’ at Cobra. But, you don’t care enough to stop or listen to the ways Cobra will spin this so he’s the victim. All you care about is getting away from these people to cry your eyes out and try your best to not make a scene at your husbands work party.

You don’t find the bathroom, instead you find a small secondary pantry in the back of the house to have a mini break down in. You slump against the wall and finally let all of the tears you can feel prickling at your dry eyes fall.

You feel like you’re being ripped in half. One half of you, the arguably more reasonable half, knows there is nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone’s body is unique. Some bodies are small, some are big, they all change under different circumstances. Body size does not determine a persons worth. Nothing gives someone the right to comment on another persons body the way Cobra did yours. The only person who should feel ashamed here is him.

Yet the other half of you lets his words stick to your skin like glue until they seep through many, many layers of yourself, until you can feel them festering inside of you. Maybe you could be making better eating choices? Maybe you should be eating more fruit? You don’t know because this is your first pregnancy and its hard to be a mother! But, you’re trying your absolute best to figure it out. Shouldn’t that count for something?

You’re outright sobbing when you feel arms encase your body and pull you flush against a hard, warm chest. One hand cradles your head while the other rubs soothing circles against your back. One deep inhale of a spicy and sweet familiar scent is all you need to know who’s holding you - Jake.

“What’s going on?” He murmurs into your hair, voice laced with concern as he squeezes you tightly against him. He knows what’s going on, Coyote came and found him the minute Cobra told him what he had said to you. Despite Cobra trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal, Coyote could see right through the bullshit.

Jake had two options; hit the fucker that thought it was okay to comment on his wife’s body or find his wife who he knew needed him in that moment. It was a no brainer (okay, he did consider hitting Cobra for a hot second), he had to find you.

“I-“ you try to explain it but, the words collide with a sob that’s already lodged in your throat.

“Take some deep breaths.” You feel him inhale a deep breath of his own, hold it, then release an equally long exhale. “Come on, baby.” He inhales another, prompting you to follow along.

The first few breaths you take are jagged and short, some leave you gasping for more air. But after continued encouragement from Jake, eventually your breathing returns to a somewhat rhythmic state. Your heart no longer feels like its jackhammering its way out of your ribcage, your thoughts about your body and being a good mother are no longer stirring up a storm in your mind. You feel calm there, in that pantry, wrapped up in your loving husbands embrace.

“There she is.” He smiles, soft and sweet, as you pull away from him just enough to see his face. He wipes away the lingering wetness of tears on your cheeks before leaving his hands there to cup them.

“I feel-“ you struggle again to find words to accuracy describe this feeling. You settle on motioning the shape of a balloon with your hands and take another shaky, deep breath.

“Whatever that snake said to you out there, it’s not even remotely close to the truth.” Jake tilts his head and rubs his thumbs gently across your skin.

“Isn’t it? I mean, I have put on some weight.”

“Because you’re pregnant, Y/N.”

“But, we’ve all seen those women who stay in such good shape when they’re pregnant like you can’t even tell they’re pregnant until the day before they pop that baby out! And all they drink is kale smoothies and their favorite midnight snack is baby carrots. They definitely do not eat chocolate cake!”

“Y/N,” Jake tilts your head up away from your belly to look him directly in the eye. “Everyone’s body is different. And I happen to think yours is amazing.” You scoff and try to look away but, he holds your eyes to his. “Whether you gain or lose weight, if you grow a foot or shrink a foot, I will always think your body is amazing. Not only because you’re growing our baby in there,” he places a hand on your lower stomach “but also because it’s yours. You are so beautiful.”

You melt into his touch and rest your forehead against his. You have no idea what you did to get so lucky in loving a man like this, one of the good ones. He kisses you slowly, letting every ounce of his love translate from his lips directly to yours.

You groan the second your lips break apart and slump into his hold. You feel his laugh vibrate against your chest as he holds you up.

‘What is it?”

“I can’t believe I let that dickhead talk me into not eating that cake. I bet it’s all gone by now.” You pout into his chest before he puts his hands on your forearms and pulls you off of him. You narrow your eyes at the way he’s smirking at you.

Wordlessly, he reaches behind you and by the time he’s fully back in your field of vision, he’s holding your plate with the same piece of cake on it from before. You gasp and smile, so bright and contagious and Hangman can’t believe he gets to witness something that gorgeous.

“Oh, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you.” You squeal as you take the plate from his hands and don’t hesitate in sticking a forkful of cake into your mouth. You moan and let your eyes flutter shut at the gooey goodness of it. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t I know it.” Jake chuckles as his thumb swipes away a crumb from the corner of your mouth.

“Uhhhh … I was talking to the cake.”

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman fanfiction #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fanfiction #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman blurb

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leviathanspain · 1 year

Text

when i’m down on my knees, you’re how i pray

aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader

synopsis: you had an unspoken agreement to avoid each other. but you had found it difficult to follow

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

a dinner to commemorate family. it was a laughable occasion, considering your mother and sister were at each others throats all the time, especially after aemond lost his eye. the tensions were high, with every fork scraped against a plate, alicent turned an eye towards rhaenyra.

you put a hand on her sleeve, pursing your lips in reassurance, alicent closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “i have an announcement.” you blushed red suddenly, pulling your hand back, you realized what she was meaning to say.

she stood up, raising a glass, she looked at rhaenyra with smugness, “my daughter y/n has been betrothed to the heir of winterfell.” she said it with an energy that it clearly wasn’t in your best interests. but in the interest of the house. alicent raised her eyebrow with pleasure to see rhaenyras reluctance to raise her glass, daemon waved his up in the air, casting you an unreadable look. this was all clearly a jest to him, and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

you looked down at your plate with shame, embarrassment almost that your mother would use you as a pawn against your sister. you had no bad blood with rhaenyra and her family, but there was also no amity. you couldn’t recall the last time you had a conversation, except with your uncle daemon, who always had something to talk to you about.

with your surprise, you saw aemond get up from across the table. he stood up, and raised his goblet. there was something of a sardonic smile on his face, “to my sweet, dear, precious, supple sister. i wish you all the best with the wolves in the north.” as he bore his gaze into you, you felt your heart crack. aemond was clearly everything but joyful. his laying it on thick was just an example of what he felt, he was angry.

alicent had made it clear that you two could marry, being the only pairing that didn’t need to marry for political standings. but now it seemed like she had either lied, or simply saw another way to beat the blacks.

everyone gave a singular clap of applause and continued on with their dinner. but you had excused yourself quickly after, quietly walking away.

the knock on your door was expected. dinner had seemingly commenced just twenty minutes after you had excused yourself, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if aemond had come to seek you out.

you opened the door and saw aemond standing there. his arms were crossed with a sense of hostility, and he let himself in, shoving past you into the room. he peered around the room, finding it to be the same, aemond stared down at you, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“why do you care?” you rolled your eyes, and padded back towards the bed. you threw yourself back into your abundance of pillows and blankets, a sigh escaping you as you looked up at the ceiling.

“don’t act like you don’t care.” he warned, a sharpness to his voice.

you huffed, “really? you think your sweet, dear, precious, supple sister, cares?” you mocked him, your hands turning into fists with frustration, “i hate her. i hate her…” you whispered, and suddenly you teared up, “she promised-“

aemond’s anger subsided and he raised his eyebrow at you, “what did she promise?”

you shook your head, “it is no longer important.” you saw aemond near the edge of the bed, “is the yelling done? or have you come for something else?”

aemond shook his head, “i- no. i will take my leave.” he turned sharply on his heel, your vulnerability was something he wouldn’t take advantage of, not today.

the days seemed to pass with a heaviness. the pressure on your shoulders felt like pounds of bricks, and you were slowly falling apart under it.

you had avoided aemond, and thrown yourself into the politics of getting married. but soon you found yourself at a discontent, and wished for something familiar.

you had snuck out of your quarters and turned down the hall to aemonds. you pushed the door open and a small creak echoed. aemond sat up in his bed, alarm painting his face. his hair was down, his eyepatch was off and he was clearly lacking clothes under the sheets.

aemond looked at you, “sister? what are you doing here?” your face was unreadable, and aemond didn’t say anything as yoh neared the bed, “i don’t want to marry cregan. i know that we have avoided each other but-“ you sat on the bed, “i don’t want that, brother.” you looked at aemond, your eyes lower than usual, there was something of a neediness to you.

“it’s been days and i can’t-“ aemond raised his eyebrow as he listened to you, “i cant do it like you do. please-“ you had a hand on the sheets and aemond smirked slightly, “missing your brothers cock, are we?”

you nodded, “yes. please, let me show you how much i really missed it.”

aemond pulled the sheets back and you were not surprised to see his roaring erection on the base of his belly.

you grabbed it, and moved completely on the bed. your legs over his, you brought his cock to your mouth, your tongue dragging over his tip, aemond shuddered slightly.

the salty taste of his precum was on your lips as you looked at him. his eyes were closed in a sort of anguish, “come on sister, don’t be shy.” he egged you on and so you did, taking him in your mouth completely, you felt him hit the back.

you gagged, pulling back iust as aemond reached up. he grabbed your hair in his hand, and you pushed yourself down after a gasp for air. he helped guide you as you choked on him. he was too busy groaning to even use his strength.

you gripped his legs and aemond came just as a hand had reached down to tug on his balls. his cum spurted all over your face, ribbons into your mouth, he was a groaning mess.

aemond shuddered, letting his hand drop from your hair, his cock was twitching as it fell out of your grasp.

aemond could barely register you starting to straddle him. you grabbed his cock and he hissed, it was still extremely sensitive but you had already been stuffing it into your cunt.

aemond groaned at the pleasure, feeling you around him was something he had been missing. his hands laid at his side, unable to even grip your waist like normal, you were fucking yourself on his cock with urgency.

the bed rocked with your movement, the creaking of the wood was like music to aemonds ears. and as long as he tried to last, the image of your breasts bouncing with the rest of you on his cock had sent him over the edge.

ribbons of cum splattered into your cunt. aemond was twitching slightly under you, struggling to even speak, he held you there, grabbing your waist.

you leaned down and gave him a kiss, “thank you.” as you got up, feeling the hot cum drip down your leg, aemond didn’t move, still reeling from the pleasure.

#hotd aemond #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine

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outtoshatter · 5 months

Text

Up next for my author spotlights of active writers in the sterek fandom:

rororowyourboat / @rosieposiepuddingnpie!

One shots:

Autumn-Mated: A Love Story Foliages | T | 5k tags: getting together, fall shenanigans, kid fic Summary: Stiles gets back from a year away just in time to join the pack for the annual fall weekend away. However unlucky things keep happening to him… until Derek finally steps in and changes Stiles' luck.

Don't Call me Dude | G | 525 tags: fluff and crack, getting together Summary: Derek gets tired of Stiles calling him "dude" so Stiles tries out new things to call him.

Meet Ugly | T | 4k tags: getting together, memory loss, mates Summary: Stiles and Derek wake up in bed together with no memory of how they got there. Derek doesn't react well, but luckily Stiles knows how to deal with werewolves. .

“What did you do to me?” The man snarled, his eyes still glowing blue and fangs on full display. He glanced down at himself, seemingly realizing that he was standing there stark naked. He reached over and grabbed a pillow, holding it with one clawed hand in front of his junk.

“Nothing! Nothing I swear! What… what did you do to me?”

“Me? You obviously used your magic on me! How else would my memory be gone?”

“My… my magic? Dude, all that’s good for is creating wards and healing! I wouldn’t even have an idea how to wipe a werewolf’s memory!”

The man scoffed, his eyebrows doing an impressive maneuver before settling in a scowl again, “But you know I’m a werewolf?”

Stiles crossed his arms. “Alright, so my magic is good for wards and healing, and also my experience helps me to identify some supernatural folk. The fact that your eyes have been glowing since you woke up is a clue, by the way.”

MultiChapter Fics:

Defying Convention | T | 24k tags: Spark!Stiles, miscommunication, idiots in love Summary: Stiles is a newly certified fully-trained Spark, and he's on the market to chose a werewolf pack to act as Emissary for. The biggest problem? Almost every pack in North America wants him, and he's supposed to choose a pack at the 3-day conference. But how's he supposed to get to know any of the likely candidates when they're just being so damn polite and respectful?

Derek and his sisters are at the conference with bleak hopes: their pack was decimated by hunters years ago and their caustic attitudes have turned away most potential applicants.

New York State of Mind | T | 5k tags: AU-everybody lives/nobody dies, college student Stiles, getting together Summary: On Stiles' first day on his own in NYC, he bumps into a pair of very attractive strangers. Literally. He walks into Laura and knocks half the groceries out of her arms. Luckily, things get better from that point, once Stiles realizes that he and Derek are both students at NYU, and that Derek isn't actually opposed to his presence.

Series:

The Hale Spark | E | 9 works some tags: endgame Sterek, fork in the road au, kidfic, fluff, BAMF!Stiles

Stilinski Cousins | T | 3 works some tags: pre-relationship, fluff, getting together, magic Stiles

rororowyourboat has plenty of other works to choose from as well, so go check out her AO3 page! Mind the tags, leave a kudos, and maybe even drop a comment!

#sterek #author spotlight #sterek fandom #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #rosieposiepuddingnpie #rororowyourboat #spotlight saturday

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moonshynecybin · 4 months

Note

ommgg kayaker rosquez? ❤️❤️❤️❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 yes pleaseew

POSTS FOR AN AUDIENCE OF MEEEE. as always lemme know if you need any weird terms explained.

thinking about rosquez in this context. chewing. okay so i think vale branches out from kayaking to open a rafting outpost/elite instruction clinic at some point that tracks pretty close to reality tbh. still one of the best kayakers in the world but the grind of constantly doing portage/first descents/big water is taxing (and well. dangerous. this is a sport where at that level its not IF you lose friends but how many.) so he starts concentrating on teaching/doing rivers he really loves etc... shows up at the green race/north fork championship once a year clears the top 5 every time and the crowd goes NUTS hammering those stupid ass cowbells and shotgunning beer. a fun time!

marc would be an expedition hair boater like red bull is always sending his ass to random rivers in nepal to run like. 100 foot waterfalls and schill for gopro... genuinely one of those boaters that is always beat to shit from bad swims and has a million terrible stories about almost drowning and getting caught in undercut rocks and sieves that make you question why anyone steps into a hard boat EVER. so yeah he swims a lot BUT! he has an even better roll/handroll so he often slithers out of any shady spots.... paddles a lot with his brother so they set safety for each other... but like. vale used to do a lot of big water and is FAMOUS for never swimming. last time he had to do a swim beer was sometime in the late 90s lmao...

anyways marc tags along on one of vale's river trips with the academy. maybe a limited release river where the dam only puts enough water in it to paddle like once a year for three days so trips bunch up. throws dart uhh the royal gorge out in california. it like 5 big ass waterfalls a bunch of steep walls all around you (NO escape) and multiple days of camping. only really good kayakers paddle it and you have to be VERY safety aware. not marc's strong suit. so maybe marc sends it on a waterfall before he gets the go-ahead from the guy below (cele? some academy boy) and then his skirt implodes and he has a nasty swim and dislocates his shoulder (happened. to my brother.) and vale is um. REALLY pissed bc he's out here with a bunch of young kayakers that he's responsible for and he KNOWS you dont fuck around with safety stuff like that. he also. does put his vlog of the trip/situation on youtube. (happened. to my brother.) and calls marc dangerous. which marc does NOT appreciate seeing in his instagram comments. and they fall out that way....

#green race sabotage would also funny to me. how would that even work tbh. anyways they still hook up at gauleyfest that year #like in the back of someone's subaru smelling like river water and sweat. they are SO into it #i will say. being trapped injured and heartbroken on a multiday river trip is kind of a universal whitewater professional experience.#callie speaks #motogp #rosquez #asks #whitewater au

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flooftyfizzlebeans · 4 months

Text

Not me thinking about the desperate situation that would lead to cannibalism

I'm imagining the temperature drops. Over the course of a few days, the snow on the mountain creeps downwards until the whole town is soft and blanketed. Maybe the island drifted north. Maybe it's a Snakolyte plot to save us from the hivemind. Maybe it doesn't matter.

Crops die. Bugsnax disappear. Soon the town scatters once again.

Some stay put where Filbo dependably makes a fire every day. Some try to flee to the desert, only to find the temperatures are only slightly warmer. It doesn't make up for the lack of shelter.

Lizbert and Eggabell are forgotten.

Of course Snorpy and Chandlo flee. Beffica too. They'd rather go alone than see what is inevitably going to happen.

Those that remain take refuge in Grmables barn. As the snow grows heavier, we have to huddle for warmth. Make fire indoors. It's too cold out to chop trees. My frostbitten fingers are proof enough of that. We're running low on firewood. Everyone is so hungry. Our paradise frozen before their very eyes.

Cromdo drops the salesman bit and uses all of his stock trying to keep the group alive. Shelda's meager rations keep hope in their eyes. Floofty has a few chemicals that won't kill is to burn for warmth.

But.... The morning when Floofty desperately tries to shake Shelda awake to no avail... Neither Filbo or I are strong enough to keep the fighting from breaking out.

Blows are exchanged, the shouting becomes too much. Harsh words turn to claws on flesh, blood in the deep snow. Filbo drops like a stone. I feel a paw take mine and drag me out of the town.

When I come out of my daze, Cromdo's made a fire in a cave, put a blanket over my shocked form. Hes making pine needle tea. Surprisingly, going up the mountain might save us.

"Who am I kidding? There's no hope." I sigh.

"I know, but that doesn't mean you stop fighting. Just means you change tactic." Cromdo scolds me.

"And run like cowards?" I poke the fire aimlessly. "They're dead down there. We're all dead."

"We survived because we're cowards. We'll keep surviving like cowards."

I sit with that. He pours me another cup.

"Yknow, I chose this cave because I hid some booze in here. Think Beffica took it before I could though."

I smile. The thought is nice.

I stare into the fire, replying the images in my mind. I know what I must do.

When Cromdo falls asleep, I tick him in, and leave him alone.

When he awakes the next morning, he awakes to a fantastic smell. Bacon? Hamburgers? He's never smelled anything like it before in his life.

He gets out of his cocoon of stolen blankets, catching me setting the table. One of my blankets for a tablecloth, plates from.... somewhere. Forks and knives. There's a stick in the middle I'm trying to light on fire to try and simulate a candle.

On the plates are large cuts of meat, cooked and served beautifully.

"Hey, kid? What are you-"

"Have a seat, sir."

....and he does. He sits across from me, both of us bundled up.... but keeping up the charade that it's a fancy restaurant. I see him hesitate... before taking the first bite.

"Wow, I didn't know you could cook."

"I didn't need to, until now."

We chat. We talk about our normal lives. What we did in the city. The lives we left behind for this dump. He talks about his daughter. His ex wife. I talk about the string of unlucky articles that put me on thin ice.

His hand finds mine once again. This time, it's an invitation to stay near.

We finish our dishes.

"I really... enjoyed this." He starts.

"Me too."

"So uh.... who did we just eat?"

...

"I don't think it's best to know." I say.

Cromdo thinks for a moment.

"Yeah, you're right."

We sit in silence.

His paw on mine, he leads us back to bed. We're both so tired. We lay down on the cold stone floor, wrapped in each other's arms, under all our cloth and blankets and insulation...both deciding...

not to keep the fire burning.

The sun sets.

The sun rises on an empty Snaktooth. No grumpsues. No bugsnax. No life.

Only blood and ice.

#soph talking bugsnax #bugsnax #major character death #cannibalism #Cromdo face #what the fuck did I just write #I promise that was not me that was a writing demon

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zoesblogsposts · 4 months

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o 625 words to know in your target language o

There is a really interesting blog called "Fluent Forever" that aids foreign language learners in tricks, tips and techniques to guide them to achieving fluency "quickly" and efficiently. One of the tricks is to learn these 625 vocab words in your target language, that way you have a basis to start delving into grammar with ease as you can understand a lot of vocab right off the bat. Plus this list of words are common across the world and will aid you in whatever language you are learning. Here is the list in thematic order

• Animal: dog, cat, fish, bird, cow, pig, mouse, horse, wing, animal

• Transportation: train, plane, car, truck, bicycle, bus, boat, ship, tire, gasoline, engine, (train) ticket, transportation

• Location: city, house, apartment, street/road, airport, train station, bridge hotel, restaurant, farm, court, school, office, room, town, university, club, bar, park, camp, store/shop, theater, library, hospital, church, market, country (USA,

France, etc.), building, ground, space (outer space), bank, location

• Clothing: hat, dress, suit, skirt, shirt, T-shirt, pants, shoes, pocket, coat, stain, clothing

• Color: red, green, blue (light/dark), yellow, brown, pink, orange, black, white, gray, color

• People: son, daughter, mother, father, parent (= mother/father), baby, man, woman, brother, sister, family, grandfather, grandmother, husband, wife, king, queen, president, neighbor, boy, girl, child (= boy/girl), adult (= man/woman), human (# animal), friend (Add a friend's name), victim, player, fan, crowd, person

• Job: Teacher, student, lawyer, doctor, patient, waiter, secretary, priest, police, army, soldier, artist, author, manager, reporter, actor, job

• Society: religion, heaven, hell, death, medicine, money, dollar, bill, marriage, wedding, team, race (ethnicity), sex (the act), sex (gender), murder, prison, technology, energy, war, peace, attack, election, magazine, newspaper, poison, gun, sport, race (sport), exercise, ball, game, price, contract, drug, sign, science, God

• Art. band, song, instrument (musical), music, movie, art

• Beverages: coffee, tea, wine, beer, juice, water, milk, beverage

• Food: egg, cheese, bread, soup, cake, chicken, pork, beef, apple, banana orange, lemon, corn, rice, oil, seed, knife, spoon, fork, plate, cup, breakfast, lunch, dinner, sugar, salt, bottle, food

• Home: table, chair, bed, dream, window, door, bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, pencil, pen, photograph, soap, book, page, key, paint, letter, note, wall, paper, floor, ceiling, roof, pool, lock, telephone, garden, yard, needle, bag, box, gift, card, ring, tool

• Electronics: clock, lamp, fan, cell phone, network, computer, program (computer), laptop, screen, camera, television, radio

• Body: head, neck, face, beard, hair, eye, mouth, lip, nose, tooth, ear, tear (drop), tongue, back, toe, finger, foot, hand, leg, arm, shoulder, heart, blood, brain, knee, sweat, disease, bone, voice, skin, body

• Nature: sea, ocean, river, mountain, rain, snow, tree, sun, moon, world, Earth, forest, sky, plant, wind, soil/earth, flower, valley, root, lake, star, grass, leaf, air, sand, beach, wave, fire, ice, island, hill, heat, nature

• Materials: glass, metal, plastic, wood, stone, diamond, clay, dust, gold, copper, silver, material

• Math/Measurements: meter, centimeter, kilogram, inch, foot, pound, half, circle, square, temperature, date, weight, edge, corner

• Misc Nouns: map, dot, consonant, vowel, light, sound, yes, no, piece, pain, injury, hole, image, pattern, noun, verb, adjective

• Directions: top, bottom, side, front, back, outside, inside, up, down, left, right, straight, north, south, east, west, direction

• Seasons: Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, season

• Numbers: 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 21, 22, 30, 31, 32, 40, 41, 42, 50, 51, 52, 60, 61, 62, 70, 71, 72, 80, 81, 82, 90, 91, 92, 100, 101, 102, 110, 111, 1000, 1001, 10000, 100000, million, billion, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, number

• Months: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December

• Days of the week: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

• Time: year, month, week, day, hour, minute, second, morning, afternoon, evening, night, time

• Verbs: work, play, walk, run, drive, fly, swim, go, stop, follow, think, speak/say, eat, drink, kill, die, smile, laugh, cry, buy, pay, sell, shoot(a gun), learn, jump, smell, hear (a sound), listen (music), taste, touch, see (a bird), watch (TV), kiss, burn, melt, dig, explode, sit, stand, love, pass by, cut, fight, lie down, dance, sleep, wake up, sing, count, marry, pray, win, lose, mix/stir, bend, wash, cook, open, close, write, call, turn, build, teach, grow, draw, feed, catch, throw, clean, find, fall, push, pull, carry, break, wear, hang, shake, sign, beat, lift

• Adjectives: long, short (long), tall, short (vs tall), wide, narrow, big/large, small/little, slow, fast, hot, cold, warm, cool, new, old (new), young, old (young), weak, dead, alive, heavy, light (heavy), dark, light (dark), nuclear, famous

#second language #language #learning #rory gilmore #smart #tips

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rotworld · 7 months

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9: Meat Market

(previous)

you end up somewhere you'd rather not be. a familiar priest wants to make you feel welcome.

->contains gore, mind control, non-consensual touching, religious content.

You need a shower.

You’d like to wash your clothes, bandage your knees and palms and lay down to ease the pressure on your sore hips and core, but all of that pales in comparison to your visceral need to rinse the grit and disgusting sticky sensation from your skin. You tilt the rearview mirror, examining the throbbing, tender bites and scratches adorning your skin. There’s a mark right where your neck meets your shoulder, not flushed and irritated like the rest. It’s faded like an old tattoo, just barely visible; symmetrical symbols, twin forking arches.

Antlers, you realize. Just high enough to peek out of the collar of your shirt.

It’s a long way to the University. You wouldn’t make it there tonight, even without this awful ache in your lower body. You scan the roadside for signs promising lodging or even a rest area, desperate for somewhere to stop. There’s nothing for a long time, even when you escape the lingering grasp of Verlinda and the treeline falls away. You see foggy plains and farmland, rows of ripe corn behind a wooden fence. For the first time in a while, you encounter other cars on the road. You see the finger-like silhouettes of factory smokestacks, a blocky city skyline in the distance.

You notice the smell as you drift into the exit lane. Sharp and savory—spices and dried meats. Your mouth waters. A shower, you think, and then maybe a hot meal. It’s a small town, you notice, more like Henley Creek than Prismville with its sleepy main street and quaint coffee shops. You drive slowly, looking for courier signs, but you see something else first; something that makes your heart skip a beat.

A metal sign straddles the road. A bridge gently arcs over a stylized river, colorful text following the curve. It says, “WELCOME TO NELTON.” You consider for a moment how desperate you really are.

[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: I ADORE YOU BY QUEEN ADREENA]

A river squirms through Nelton from north to south, sandy paths and old, soggy docks lining the bank. The city is a spacious, small town sprawl, meandering avenues dotted by benches, kitschy local shops and garland-wrapped streetlights. There’s some sort of special event or holiday coming up, implied by the colorful banners and 50% off sale signs, but not one you’re familiar with.

Downtown is bustling. You’ve arrived just in time for the lunch rush, watching hurried foot traffic stream through cafe and diner doors. Churches pop up like weeds every few blocks but they’re smaller and in poor condition than you expect, white, wooden buildings that look like they might topple in a strong breeze. You park on a busy avenue, walking slowly by the windows of a florist, an antique shop, an apartment building, looking for courier signs. You’re starting to lose hope when you round the corner and nearly run into someone.

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking—oh, hello again.”

You stare at the man in front of you. Have you met before? He’s smiling like you have but nothing about him is particularly memorable. You feel like you’re flipping quickly through a product catalogue and all the models are blurring together, pleasing to the eye but unobtrusive so as not to distract from the rest of the image. He wears a white shirt and black slacks, suspenders curving over his shoulders. And gloves, you realize, black leather gloves. You ran into him in Prismville.

“Courier! What a pleasant surprise!” There’s another man with him who you recognize immediately. Malachi is dressed in the same cassock as the last time you saw him, hands clasped together in front of his chest. “I’m so glad you’re here. Was it a long drive? Why don’t you join Mr. Bachman and I for lunch?”

“I’m afraid I can’t stay, but I’m sure the two of you will have a lovely time.” Bachman smiles and slips past you gracefully. He claps a hand on your shoulder as he goes, leaning in just slightly. “Don’t eat anything they offer you,” he whispers. He walks unhurriedly to a small, silver car parked by the florist. When you turn back around, Malachi is slightly closer, his smile just a bit wider.

“I had no idea the two of you were acquainted. What a small world!” he says.

Anticipating his charisma, the way he draws you in, doesn’t help. You feel yourself relaxing, the tension leaking out of your shoulders. The glow of his eyes is even fainter outside in the Drift’s weak daylight, but you notice the slightest golden hue rippling around his face. “We’re not, exactly. I saw him a while ago. Didn’t have time to introduce ourselves,” you admit.

“Ah, that sounds about right. He’s an anchorware repairman. Always rushing off to the next place, a bit like yourself. We just had to recalibrate our whole stabilizing array and I wasn’t sure it was done properly. It was kind of him to rush out and take a look—” Malachi cuts himself off suddenly, eyes widening in surprise. He hooks two fingers beneath the collar of your shirt and tugs it slightly to the side, staring, no doubt, at the mark of the Stag. “What happened here?” he says softly.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, leaning out of his reach. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I could really use a shower—”

“Goodness, of course,” he says, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. You’re walking before you’re fully aware of it, letting him guide you down the street. You’re leaving downtown, ambling down a long, green path to what looks like an industrial park. A massive complex of metallic buildings, steel walkways, and gaping delivery bays greets you at the end of the path. That spicy, savory smell you first noticed on the way into town is stronger here, almost cloying.

“Employee showers are in this building here. And no, nobody will mind,” he says, steering you towards a smaller, rectangular building with its own parking lot, separate from the rest of the factory. “You’d be more than welcome to use my bathroom if we were closer, but I live quite a ways from here. I’m sure you’d like to get cleaned up sooner rather than later.”

Before long, you’re walking down a long, echoing hallway, passing people in stark white uniforms. Everyone smiles and nods or waves to Malachi, a few exchanging cheerful greetings. They’re polite to you but not overly friendly, seeming to sense your unease. The shower room is clean and spacious, and thankfully unoccupied when you arrive. There’s a plastic bench against the wall with clean towels stacked in a pile. The stalls are around the corner. You can’t help but notice Malachi lingers, leaning against the wall beside the bench. “You can leave your clothes with me. I’ll make sure nothing happens to them,” he says, smiling innocently.

You’re too tired to argue. You go around the corner to undress, wrapping a towel around your body and hand off your clothes, extremely aware of Malachi’s fingers brushing against your hands. The lights are dimmer. The glow of his eyes is more noticeable and eerie.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” he asks, winking. “Are you delivering something, or just passing through? I suppose you’re always passing through, regardless.”

You slip around the corner and into a shower stall, turning on the hot water. It’s heavenly, soothing on all your scrapes and scratches. “Just passing through,” you call over the hiss of running water.

“Ah, the exciting life of a courier. Doesn’t it get lonely?”

You don’t answer, lathering some soap in your hands. The presence of amenities, several different scents and varieties of shampoo, makes you curious. “What is this place?”

“Nelton’s biggest employer,” Malachi says wryly. “Food processing, meat packing, and animal feed manufacture, all under one roof. Or, well, a series of connected roofs. It’s a big complex. If you noticed a particular odor around town, this is where it comes from.”

“And it’s got showers,” you marvel. “Nice ones.”

“Food is the heart of the community. Those who work with it are afforded the highest respect.”

You’re waiting for the invitation to lunch but it never comes. Are you being paranoid? There’s something odd about Malachi, and Bachman’s whispered warning is lingering in the back of your mind, but you towel off and get your clothes back without incident.

“You’ve got plenty of daylight left,” Malachi says. “So I suppose I can’t convince you to stay a while longer.” His eyes flick down to your neck when you come out of the showers, an irritated twitch at the corner of his smile. “That’s a stubborn spot of dirt, isn’t it?” he says.

You saw it in the mirror. The mark of the Stag didn’t come off, but you didn’t expect it to. “I’m sure it’ll come off eventually.”

He insists on walking you back to your car and you let him because it seems harmless, and you’re not sure you could navigate out of the factory complex alone anyway. You’re still a bit sore but you smell clean, at least, and your mood has lifted. Nelton’s peaceful scenery puts you at ease. The belltower spire of a courthouse periscopes from the center of downtown. A fried, buttery scent wafts from a seafood restaurant along the river. Wind skims across the surface of the water, stirring gentle waves.

“It’s a nice place, isn’t it?” Malachi asks, ambling along the sandy riverbank beside you.

“It is,” you say. A pair of fishermen seated at the edge of a dock wave at the two of you.

“Have you seen much of town? I meant to show you around. You might’ve noticed there aren’t any courier signs, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t welcome. Just the opposite. Everyone in Nelton is more than happy to help a courier. Food, lodgings, supplies, whatever you need, you don’t need to worry about finding it here.”

“That’s generous,” you say. The suspicion must be evident in your voice or on your face. Malachi laughs softly.

“The law of Nelton is hospitality. It’s simply what we do here. We’re especially appreciative of couriers, of course, but anyone who comes all this way would receive the same treatment.” He pauses, gazing across the water. You stop beside him, watching the waves lap at the rocks and meandering tree roots on the far shore. “Our most important holiday is in less than a week, the Feeding of the Multitude. Are you familiar with that particular story from the Bible? It was one of the miracles of Jesus. He took a couple fish and a few loaves of bread, gave thanks for them, and distributed them among the faithful and needy. This blessed food fed thousands.”

He’s watching you, you realize, studying your face. “Ah,” you say, unsure of what sort of reaction he’s expecting.

“That spirit of generosity is the essence of Nelton. Whether you follow the faith or not, it’s good to give, right? To feed the hungry and shelter the lost.”

He reaches for your hand and the thought that you should pull away passes through your mind, fizzling out just as quickly. It’s fine, isn’t it? You know he means well. He just wants to take care of you. His gaze is steady and warm, full of affection, as he tugs you closer. It occurs to you that this is strange, improper somehow, that a stranger and a priest of all things shouldn’t be holding you like this, but that thought, too, melts away.

“The truth is, a miracle happened here. Just like the fish and loaves,” he says quietly, so quietly you have to lean in closer. You get the sense that this is a secret he’s telling you, something not often given to outsiders. His hand is on your face, his thumb stroking your lips. His eyes are beautiful, gold like honey. “Are you hungry, courier?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation. You think that this isn’t right, that you were leaving, weren’t you? You were going to get back in your car and keep going south but that seems too difficult now, not worth the risk. Where is your car? Where’s the florist and the antique shop? Isn’t that where he was supposed to take you? Hunger rakes through your belly. You’re ravenous. You could eat everything you have, all the eggs and junk food the Singer gave you and still not be satisfied.

Malachi is still watching you. You don’t know what he sees but it’s something good, something right, happiness blooming in your chest as soft and sweet as spun sugar when he strokes your cheek. “Then I should feed you, shouldn’t I?” He holds your hand, lacing your fingers together, as he begins to walk again. You’re leaving the river behind, ascending a steep, grassy hill. Town is far away, small in the distance. How far did you walk without realizing it?

There’s a church here that’s not like the others. It’s much bigger. It’s the same old style, the same white paint flaking from the exterior and the same dead leaves and spiderwebs gathered in its gutters, but its walls are wider, its steeple taller. Soft, golden light flickers beyond the windows but all you can make out are vague shapes and silhouettes. You stumble, your feet suddenly refusing to work.

You can’t go in there. The thought is a lightning bolt, a sobering shock to your system. You absolutely cannot go in there. The Stag has a presence like a forest made of eyes, the paralyzing, primal gaze of ancestral predators and the weight of a hundred thousand trees. This is worse. You aren’t glimpsing the beast through a leafy canopy but wandering right up to its maw, engulfed in its hot, butcher shop breath.

“It’s alright,” Malachi says gently. “Don’t be afraid, it’s alright. I know how it feels the first time.”

“I can’t…” You shake your head and pull back, away from him, but he doesn’t let you go. His grip on your hand tightens. “I can’t, I can’t—”

“Holiness isn’t as pretty as they make it look in Renaissance paintings. It’s messy. Visceral. It breathes and it bleeds, just like us.” You sink to your knees and he follows you, kneeling in dry, prickly grass—red, you realize, the grass is red and the dirt is red and everything is slick and glistening and red. You are kneeling in the vivisected insides of a thing stretched and splayed across miles. The trees are stiff stalks of sinew and leaves of thin, veiny membranes that pulse and ooze. You smell meat, cooked and seasoned to perfection. Malachi cups your chin and urges you to look at him.

“Let me go,” you beg him. “I don’t want this.” Fear, too, is a shriveling impulse, weak against the warmth of his hands stroking your hair.

“You do,” he coos. “You poor thing, I know you do. We’re all hungry and we all deserve to eat.” He cups your face in his hands and leans in so the gold of his eyes is all you see. Sharp, searing pain erupts in your neck and shoulder and you shove him off of you, scrambling back in the grass. You touch the spot, feeling for a wound.

There’s nothing. Just the tingling heat of the Stag’s mark. Malachi looks shocked and then really, truly sad, gaze gentle with sympathy. He reaches out to you and you scramble to your feet, running without ever looking back.

Nelton flickers around you. Sometimes you see the town, sometimes the flesh. Squirming ropes of intestines dangle like power lines. The road is cobblestone, and then it’s a row of teeth. You can’t tell which is real. People watch you, pausing their routines to peer out of windows and lean out of their cars. All of them frowning, all of them with furrowed brows and eyes emanating the same golden light. They don’t stop you. You’re afraid they know something you don’t.

Your car is where you left it. You screech out of your parking spot and make a beeline for the edge of town. The red fades. The road, stone and sterile, welcomes you back. That savory smell lingers for a while, and then it turns sour. You feel nauseous. The sky darkens and you check your clock, discovering your brief trip through Nelton cost you several hours. The sun will set soon and you feel worse than before, sick and exhausted and dirty all over again. Turning back isn’t an option. You’ll have to settle for the next place you see. Whatever you find, you assure yourself, it can’t be any worse than where you just came from.

(next)

#rotpeach writes #goretober #the drift

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anjelicawrites · 6 months

Text

The winner takes it all

Chapter VII (I, II, III, IV, V, VI)

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Synopsis: inspired by the Æthelflæd and Erik's story line in The Last Kingdom. Might be spoilerish if you haven't seen it (go watch it!!!), even though I've just stolen the inspiration and went on with the story my way.

Warnings: Canon compliant violence, Aemond losing his eye, talk of murder and family annihilation, anxiety, rage.

A/N: reader is AFAB, they/them pronouns are used (they are called “lady” and “daughter of the North”). The only descriptor is that they have long hair.

A/N 1: this is an AU. Look at me taking the canon story of Westeros and yell “Parkhour!” as I jump out of the window clutching it in my hands.

When you wake up Aemond is nowhere to be seen. He’s disturbed the bed on his side to keep up the charade of sharing it with you and you are alarmed that you hadn’t even noticed him doing so. You turn your head in the general direction of the windows when you don’t hear the usual commotion in the courtyard: what is going on? As silently as possible you open one of the windows and see that the majority of the soldiers are nowhere to be found, only a small group of them remains to guard the castle.

As soon as your handmaiden arrives, you ask her and she responds curtly

“Everyone to battle”.

Your heart sinks and sings at the same time, you try as hard as you can to hide your excitement to the woman: with the castle mostly empty, will you have a chance to escape? Your personal guard hasn’t been depleted, following you around while you try to gauge your possibilities of an escape, horseless and in a part of the country that offers no hiding spots.

Your wandering is stopped by a group of women who address you in Valyrian, their tone urgent; the more you tell them you don’t understand, the more insistent they become, until one of the members of your guard, a boy with big eyes translates for you: you are supposed to organize their work, until everyone is back, since you are Aemond’s wife. This takes you aback: you are a foreigner, your people are fighting, still those Valyrian women look up to you for guidance. With a deep sigh you start working, using the guard as your translator, while plans upon plans marinate in the back of your mind, until it’s almost evening and you realize you have nowhere to go.

Your hand abandons the fork and you have to fight your stomach to keep the food down: you are not sure if the news of your marriage has reached your people, but something tells you that it did. If it didn’t, you’d still have to deal with your husband, after your fight in the cell; if you let him hit you until he’s satisfied, he’ll probably kill you, if you kill him, you need to be smart about it. This if your new status hadn’t reached your people, if it had, you are not sure anyone will ever welcome and help you: every avenue is blocked, because Aemond made you a de facto traitor.

In a fit of rage you grab the goblet and smash it against the wall, where is followed by the plate, the cutlery and the tray; the only reason you don’t flip the table is because it is too heavy. With a roar you open Aemond’s trunk and tear through all the clothes he’s left there, until only shreds remain and you are crying on the floor, knees to your chest.

When morning comes, the servants don’t say a word, they clean your mess while your handmaiden helps you dress for the day.

With a heavy heart you realized, during the night, that your best chance of survival is for the North to succumb or, at least, for the major Lords to die in order for you to seize power, as the Queen of a free North. The first option is, probably, the more likely to happen, because the remaining Houses would never accept a Queen, a traitor Queen and if a civil war were to break, the North would fall anyway and you are still in enemy territory, your chances of seizing power null.

If the North wins, you’ll still be a traitor, that you were forced to marry Aemond will weigh nothing in the scheme of things, not when your predicament can be used by other Houses to grab what belongs to you and your family.

The Gods are cruel, aren't they? They punished you two times for having followed your heart: the first time with an unhappy marriage, the second with becoming a stranger in your own Homeland or being exiled forever.

For the two days Aemond is away, you work until your body physically can’t take anymore and your handmaiden has to drag you to bed, where you fall in a dreamless sleep and wake up in tears.

You are angry at Aemond for what he did and you miss him, cursing your traitor heart when you are awake, because the pull you feel towards him is even stronger now that you know he is in battle and in danger. You should hope for his demise but tremble at the mere idea of having to go on and live your life without him. You feel no hate towards him, anger perhaps, so much that you feel like you’re drowning in it, but you know it will fade, eventually, leaving you defenseless against those feelings burning in the most hidden recesses of your heart.

The thundering of your thoughts breaks into pieces when you hear the commotion in the courtyard and the roar of the dragons: they are back.

Against your will your feet drag you outside, where you see the familiar sea of white haired Valyrians, until your eyes land on Aemond, who stands tall, shouting orders to the people around you, still in his armor. You have to move aside to make sure the people don’t crush you in their effort to… pack? You wonder, flabbergasted, turning around to follow the commotion. They are all packing the scant belongings left: what is going on? Have they lost? You ask yourself.

You jump out of your skin when a strong hand lands on your shoulder, on instinct you turn ready to punch, only to see Aemond’s face, specks of congealed blood on his face and hair.

“We need to go, ābrazȳrys, now” he says gently

“I am not going anywhere with you until you tell me what’s going on!” you answer, dislodging his hand

“I will explain, later”

“I am sick and tired of having to wait for any explanation from you! You’d better start talking, now!” you spat, stomping your foot

“You can either come with me, dignity intact, or I can haul you on my shoulder and on Vhagar. Your choice, ābrazȳrys. Either way we are flying away from here”.

You can see the anger and tiredness under his gentle façade, the haste he is trying to hide from you.

“Fear not, dōna ābrazȳrys, we’ve won. We are occupying another castle”.

For a second you can’t breathe, black spots dancing in your vision. It’s only thanks to Aemond’s hands on your shoulders that you don’t fall on your ass, his grasp firm on the skin there as he ushers you towards the enormous form of Vhagar.

“Please don’t make me fly on her again” all your fight gone the moment you face the humongous beast again

“It’s the safest way for you to travel”

“Please Aemond” you beg, trying to find purchase on his armor: why can’t he have some pity and do as you ask?

“I can’t risk anything happening to you - as gently as he can he cups your cheeks - I know the first time was scary, but nothing bad happened, right? We will fly slowly and as close to the terrain as possible. Please, we need to go”.

It’s the gentleness in his voice that makes your resolve crumble, the light in his eye amidst the chaos around you two. Why is your heart still singing for him? Why do you care about a man who makes decisions in your life, without consulting you?

You hang your head in defeat and murmur your answer; out of nowhere your handmaiden arrives, a thick cloak in her hands and fastens it around your body.

This time you climb Vhagar’s enormous body on your own, Aemond is right behind you, ready to catch you if you fall and to chain you to the beast under you.

“I wish I didn’t have to subject you to all of this”

“Then you shouldn’t have kidnapped me”.

The ride on Vhagar is saddled with a heavy silence.

You recognize where you all are, thus understanding how much terrain the Valyrians have conquered against your people and your blood freezes cold: you thought the North would have fared better, yet they've managed to steal so much from you all!

You can hear Aemond following you, the heavy thuds of each step, still clad in his armor as he is. Both his squire and your handmaid precede you to prepare your room, someone else's room, for the night.

The fire is lit and you can see some servants carrying buckets of warm water for Aemond to use and the squire ready to help with the armor, your handmaiden helps you with your cloak and shows you a screen you can use to hide while changing clothes. When you emerge you are again in the dressing gown, Aemond in his breeches and undershirt, ready to finish undressing to enjoy the bath.

"You should ask the servants to bring you some food"

"As you can imagine, I am not hungry" you answer curtly.

Aemond can feel the physical abyss carved between the two of you and his own lack of knowledge on how to cross it. You are so close he fancies he can smell you, yet so far away, you might as well be in Essos.

"As you wish, ābrazȳrys" he says with a curt nod of his head, before entering the bathing room.

That very night, the distress sounds coming from the huge settee awaken you. In the confusion that is your half awake brain, you don't understand initially what's going on, until you manage to light some candles and you can see Aemond's body trashing on the settee, his head turning from side to side violently, his mouth open to let out howls of pain and his harms moving as if he’s trying to shield himself. He sounds so pitiful you can’t help but grab the candle and rush to his side, your hands trying to stop his flailing arms, your voice gently trying to wake him, until he shoves you away and he sits up, abruptly.

Aemond doesn’t know where he is for a second, his head whips around until he sees you on the floor, your eyes trained on his face.

“Oh Aemond” escapes your lips.

He doesn’t immediately understand, then he realizes he is not feeling the eyepatch snug on his face and notices it on the floor. He snags it with haste and wears it, even though the damage has already been done.

“What is going on?”

“It is not of your concern”.

Slowly you lift yourself up, shoulders squared you march towards him to stop between his splayed legs. He didn’t just scream his anguish during his nightmare, you could hear disjointed words of regret and fear and pain.

“What happened?”.

He has to crane his neck to look into your beautiful face. You have such an air of power around yourself, you are queenly, godly in the way you are staring at him, he feels compelled to talk, but he can’t if he looks into your eyes. He lets his head hang, arms braced on his thighs, ready to commence his story.

“We didn’t have a choice, never really. We were destined to fail the moment we were born, my siblings and I. You see, as much as New Valyria wasn’t ready for a Queen, our father had forced everyone’s hand in pledging for her. He had us, the spares, in his mind Rhaenyra was supposed to inherit though. She didn’t have everyone’s support, not with the way she conducted herself and the talks around her Velaryon children being bastards. - he spats the word - Still, many Lords were ready to back her up, promises and honor, against Aegon’s claim and Daemon knew, he made his plans to take care of the competition”.

Aemond stands, his face curtained by his long hair, forcing you to step back or he’ll crash against your frame. On unsteady feet he walks towards the window and stares into the night, hands on the windowsill.

“We were told of his plan. You see, Daemon had been the head of the City Watch years and years ago, the men were still loyal to him and they were ready to act upon his command. We beat them to it. - you notice his hands curl on the sill, the knuckles turning white - There was no other choice, not when there was a plan and a date picked to annihilate all of us”.

You are rooted where you are standing, chilled to the bone by his confession. You knew what he did, who didn’t, but to hear it from his own voice, to hear the way he’s forcing himself to keep a steady tone, hits you differently. Then another realization churns your stomach

“We are just a decoy, right? A way to shift the Lords’ attention to what you and your brother did, to ensure their loyalty with our riches”.

You can see his shoulders sag, his head falling forwards against the glass

“Conquering the North had always been in my House’s plans. My father was too much of a spineless man to act upon it. Daemon might have been capable of convincing Rhaenyra to wage war - he turns around, paler than you have ever seen him - this was going to happen under a future Targaryen ruler”

“It did now, though”

“Yes. All the pieces fell into place the moment we slaughtered my half-sister and her family. There was no other choice”.

You have to walk backwards until your legs hit the bed and you fall there, sitting ungracefully like a ragdoll, your cold fingers grabbing the bedding uselessly.

“Who is Luke?” you shoot.

This is the night of revelation, as horrifying as they have been.

Aemond audibly takes a deep, pained breath and you don’t care; he’s telling you everything and you deserve the truth, all of it, after all he’s put you through.

“One of Rhaenyra’s Strong bastards, my nephew Lucerys Velaryon - unconsciously his hand goes to the scar running down his face - he’s the one who took my eye and was never punished for what he did. His mother claimed self defense, I was never going to hurt him or his brother, I just wanted them to stop”.

The defeat in his voice forces you to look at him. His lilac eye is shot open, his mouth a thin line. You want to urge him, but you are afraid he’ll stop.

“They ganged against me, him, Jace, Jacaerys Velaryon and Daemon’s daughters. Four against one because I had claimed Vhagar before Rhaena did, because she believed a dragon could be inherited. I had to grab that rock and threaten them, they didn’t like it when I told them what they were: bastards”.

You can hear the effort he’s making at keeping his tone neutral but the emotions brimming under the surface are unmistakable: the pain and the rage you can feel, threatening to break his composure at any second.

You are not looking at him, your eyes following the weaving of the rug up to where the candles lighten it, your mind weighting all he’s told you. Slowly you understand why he’s saying that he and the King had no choice, how the pieces had fallen into their places the moment the late King Viserys had generated spare heirs. You have never believed in predestination, in the fact that one’s life has already been decided by the Gods that, even knowing the future, a person has no way to change it. You still do believe all of that but can see the domino effect the late King had caused, which landed you and Aemond in this room.

“Do you truly believe there was no other way?”

“Our mutual existence was a threat to the Kingdom. Sooner or later factions would have appeared, Daemon hiring these men just snowballed what was to come”

“Your brother could have rejected the crown in favor of Rhaenyra”

“He was still the male heir and our grandsire would have never backed down, he had invested too much in Aegon becoming King. He was the threat, he had legitimate children also, whilst everyone knew Jace wasn’t a true Velaryon, his and his mother’s position were already compromised from the start. In a way, she and Daemon had no other choice”.

You understand, the same way you did when he talked murder against your other husband, the same way a cornered animal understands fighting for its life. You are both cogs in a machine bigger than yourselves, your actions inevitable and set in motion by someone else: your hands bloody, the shame yours to carry, the true culprit as innocent as a dove.

“This is why you have to believe me when I say marrying you was not instigated by political reasons. I am a kinslayer, I am the most accursed of men. Leaving you for the wolves would have been easier and I still couldn’t. I killed Luke with my own two hands and you were supposed to be nothing more than a bounty”.

You silently stand up and walk towards him until you can gently grab his chin to look into his lonely eye.

“I understand - you murmur gently - now I understand”.

That morning the servants find you two asleep on the bed, you on your side, back facing Aemond, and him on his back, one of his hands curled around a lock of your hair.

Aemond taglist: @fan-goddess

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen

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randonauticrap · 8 months

Text

The Future of Memory Lane

Pairing ~ Jin Grandet x Reader

Word Count ~ 2.1k

Author's Note ~ Well, with a request like "Wool coat/blanket over shivering shoulders", plus my favorite man in the world, of course I got carried away! Thank you so much for this request, @kissmetwicekissmedeadly !!! I hope you enjoy me just basically gushing about Jin in fic form for 8 minutes. hehe

Warnings ~ Mentions/insinuations of smexy times, but none actually written

And happy official First Day of Fall for everyone in North America! IT'S FINALLY HERE!

The night air was cool, laced with a brisk wind and crunchy leaves that followed its urging. The festival lights were bright and welcoming, a warm invitation to sample the vivacious life that bubbled in the town square, and you and Jin took that invitation with open arms. You sat on a bench in the midst of a bustling evening, filled with laughter and the smoky scents of the dishes made with autumn harvest. Children participated in a pumpkin carving contest not too far away and you watched as mothers and fathers helped their young ones use the sharp knives to bring to life the spooky designs that could only come from a child’s mind. Yours and Jin’s pumpkins sat beside you on the ground, waiting for their turn to be carved once you returned to the palace.

“Hope ya didn’t miss me too much.” your lover’s voice came from your right and you turned to face him, an eager smile already on your lips.

“I always miss you too much.” you giggled as he sat down and handed you a basket with all sorts of food inside. The smell was intoxicating and you nearly neglected the use of your fork just to dig in faster. But upon remembering all you had to carry, you thought better of getting your hands sticky and picked up your utensil. “Thanks for the food, Jin.” you plopped your head against his shoulder and he chuckled, pulling you closer to his side.

“Sure, sweetheart. I couldn’t let the most beautiful woman here go hungry.”

You nuzzled his warm body and let out a laugh, your cheeks reddening in a giddy blush as you chased away the chill in the safest place you’ve ever known: right in this man’s arms. The two of you munched on your food and watched the people smiling around you, oblivious to the prince and his lover in their wake, and that’s just the way you and Jin liked it. Blending in allowed you to enjoy dates like a regular couple, without the peering, judging eyes that befell royalty every day in the palace.

The wind began to pick up as you and Jin discarded your empty baskets and walked around the stalls, all lit up with little twinkling lights and candles. You came across one of your favorite jewelry merchants and started looking through the pieces he had brought this time. The gems were all delicately wrapped with beautiful iron detailing, and each was a representation of something to do with the autumn season. As per tradition, you and Jin each picked out a piece for the other, paid the merchant after thanking him, and made your way further up the cobblestone street.

"Here we go." Jin declared as you reached your favorite coffee shop. Your smile widened and you wrapped your arms even tighter around Jin's bicep, excited about what you knew was coming next.

The little bell clinked as Jin opened the door for you and the wave of coffee bean scent hit you. Your eyes fell closed and you breathed in the cozy, familiar scent of memories from many years of shared joy. Strong arms wrapped around you from behind and you giggled, the musky scent of your lover only adding to the bliss. "Know what you want, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear and you nodded, letting him propel you to the counter, his warm hands never leaving your sides.

You ordered your favorite: pumpkin flavored coffee and a piece of toffee cake, always made freshly at the beginning of each day once the weather turned cold. Jin ordered his favorite: caramel flavored coffee with pumpkin syrup, and a piece of honey chocolate cake, and you both made your way to the seats outside in the cool night air, your favorite booth left open in anticipation of your visit. You slid in next to the stone wall and gazed out at the lights from the festival, sighing happily when Jin scooted in next to you and provided you with his warmth.

"Ready?" He leaned down and pressed the gentlest of kisses against your lips and you hummed against him, pulling him closer.

"Mhm," you murmured, tugging him back down for another kiss before turning away to grab your bag from the jewelry merchant. Jin did the same, and when you turned back around, he was holding a little terracotta ring box in his hand.

"Sweetheart, I never thought I'd get to have a love like this… but ya proved me wrong. You showed me that love isn't a curse, and it doesn't have to end the way my parents' did," he paused, coughing to hide his emotions, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, tucking your head under his chin. All the love, pain, grief, joy, and comfort that this man had given you the last three years came rushing back to you in an instant a the thought of what you assumed he was about to say, and you fought to hold the tears back before he could finish. You nodded silently and he continued.

"I… I want to make you happy, for the rest of your life. I want to be the man that lives up to all your fairytale dreams. I may not be able to do that, but I wanna try. I wanna be yours forever and I want you to be mine too. Will- will you marry me?"

The moment the words left his lips, you let out a sobbing laugh and smiled up at him, tears beginning to streak your face. The look of momentary panic on his face had you cupping his cheeks and kissing him with all your might. "Jin of course I will. Of course I'll marry you!" You cried, and threw your arms around his neck. His entire body slumped with relief and he returned your embrace, crushing you to him and nearly taking your breath away.

Swept away in a tidal wave of emotion, neither of you noticed the little crowd of townspeople that had gathered to watch the excitement, until they began to clap and celebrate your joy. "Oh!" You gasped in surprise and you both finally broke apart in a daze, and glanced around at everyone clapping for you.

Jin smiled at them, then down at you, the love in his eyes set newly ablaze as he stared down at his fiancée; the only woman who had ever successfully broken through his salacious exterior to see the man within. You were smiling and giggling, thanking the townspeople, but all Jin saw was you. All Jin would ever see again was you, and he was completely fine with that.

The rest of your coffee shop date passed in hushed giggles and loving touches, and before long, the festival crowd was dying down and it was getting late. "Well, ready to go home, future Mrs. Grandet?" Jin beamed down at you as he stood from the booth and held his hand out. For the thousandth time that evening, a joyful laugh bubbled out from between your lips.

"I am, my darling future husband." You responded in kind, taking his hand and letting him pull you up.

"Then we shall take our leave." He continued the silly posh accent as he wrapped your hand around his arm and led you back through the coffee shop and out into the night. You were always safe with Jin, his big, tall frame too intimidating to be pounced upon, so walking the streets with him, even in the evenings, never worried you the way it used to. It was a comfortable walk; a walk you had watched lovers take all your life; a walk you never thought you'd experience for yourself. That is, until 3 years ago. Then you finally understood how every moment was so precious, and every step meant something when you were with the right person.

You were as close to Jin as you could possibly get, but it still didn't feel like enough. Would you ever get close enough? You pondered the thought lazily as the two of you walked back toward your carriage on the other side of town, when…

plop!

plop plop!

"Oh man," Jin said above you. "We're about to get real wet. And not the fun kind. Hold on, sweetheart." And in a single second, you'd been lifted into your prince's arms, and not a moment too soon. The sky opened up and the rain began to pelt you both. It was a cold autumn rain that put a chill in your bones upon contact, and you squealed, clutching Jin's shoulders tightly as he ran. The carriage had still been pretty far, but Jin's long legs carried you there in half the time your own could have, however not before allowing the rain to completely soak the both of you. You clambered into the carriage with Jin right on your heels. He gave some hurried instructions to the driver before pulling the door closed and pulling you close to him.

The carriage arrived at the palace after several wet, shivering moments, and a butler came out to greet you both with a large umbrella in hand. Thankful for the cover, you both hurried along beside him into the palace and once inside, Jin tugged you towards his room.

"Thank you for carrying me. I never would have been able to run that fast." You laughed as you toweled off your wet hair in Jin's bedroom. You tossed the towel to him next and he mimicked your actions before stripping his shirt from his soaked body and toweling it too.

"Course, sweetheart. I'm sorry your prince couldn't keep you from getting wet." He smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, it's fine." You giggled. "Rain is just water. We basically just took a shower outside."

"Have you forgotten what we do in the shower?" He cocked his eyebrow at you, unimpressed, and you blushed, images of exactly what you and Jin normally do in the shower dancing through your mind.

"Oh absolutely not." You laughed, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

"Good, I wouldn't want to find out that my beautiful fiancée could forget our time together." He grinned, the mirth once again in his eyes.

Fiancée.

The word hit you then like a freight train and you paused all movement, staring at Jin as if taking him in for the very first time again. You were pledged to be married to this insanely handsome man before you. It was almost too wild to believe. But as his eyes met yours again, it seemed so obvious. Of course it was him, no one else could ever compare.

Jin hadn't noticed your revelation, and instead was busying himself with pulling several thick blankets from his closet. You only noticed that he had lit up the fireplace when he came to drape one of the blankets around your still shivering shoulders and lead you to his sofa. He sat down first, then pulled you into his lap, cradling you against his bare torso. Your fingers automatically began to trace the lines and dips in his skin, a habit you had formed early in your relationship and never intended to drop.

"Oh hey!" You exclaimed suddenly. "I got so excited about your proposal that I forgot to give you what I got you from the jewelry stall!" You hopped up and rummaged through the pocket of your discarded jacket and pulled out the little bag and brought it back to Jin. You sat back down in his lap and pulled a pendant out of the bag. It was two deep blue sapphires encased in iron hearts and woven together in a beautiful design. "For your jacket lapel." You added as he brought his hand up to cup the tiny piece of art.

"It's incredible." He murmured, staring at it with a certain reverence you only get to see from him when you're alone. "Thank you baby." He muttered, pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours several times before letting you settle back into his arms under the blanket.

"You know this blanket is going to be so soaked, right?" You said after several moments of silence, leaning your head against Jin's shoulder.

"Yeah, that's why I got two out. We're gonna warm up right here first, and then we're gonna take a nice, hot shower, dry off, and we're coming right back to this spot. This is a special night, ya know. I wanna make it last as long as possible."

You giggled and cupped his cheek with your palm before allowing your fingers to explore the nape of his neck and his damp hair. You pulled him down to kiss you and his grip on you tightened. You pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, "I love you, Jin Grandet."

"I love you too, sweetheart; my amazing future wife. Happy anniversary."

🎃

Tags for the Lovelies: @rhodolitesroseforclavis @aquagirl1978 @ikehoe @queengiuliettafirstlady @maries-gallery @nightghoul381 @itsjudesfault @xbalayage

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen series #jin grandet #ikepri jin #jin grandet fluff #ikepri jin fluff #otome #otome games #autumn fluff #autumn ikepri #ikepri fluff #ikemen prince fluff

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