#having a lot of fun with this most recent one!!! the idea of arranged marriage vettonso(with boy king seb) is brainrotting me
Note
super obsessed with your art, seb looks soooooooooooo stunning!!! I am now very curious however, only if you feel like going into it, as to which other historical figures you align with which drivers?👀👀
AAAAAA tysm Grace!!!! Though I am so so so sorry for how rambly and long this post is gonna be, but you just asked me abt one of my brainrots!! I will answer your question but also talk about my history alignments and AUs in general LOL
But if I'm making comparisons of F1 drivers and historical figures, my brain kinda forces me to make it an AU because I'm like "this needs to make absolute sense historically and contextually.)
So, tbh of the four historical AUs that float around my brain, only two of them are really specifically about certain historical figures. The four are: Nandopoleon(About how Fernando reminds me of Napoleon), War of Spanish Succession(mostly about that era, but Seb and Nando are supposed to be paralleling Charles VI and Philip V), Napoleonic Hussars(which is about how , in general, Hussars = F1 drivers), and Rennaissance Muse(this just happens to take place in a different era.)
Explaining my AUs and the historical contexts(proceed with caution, its a lot)
Nandopoleon:
Okay so I'm really really am so deranged about Napoleon = Fernando, but I’ve not posted about it too much because I wanna make a well thought out post about it. But basically I think they’re similar people with similar characteristics and motivations. There was this period of time over the summer where I was only brain rotting about how well any of Napoleon’s quotes fit Fernando(with my fellow nandopoleon confidant @/sweatyflytrap haha.) Here’s some quotes as example:
“Victory belongs to the most persevering.”
“It is not necessary to bury the truth. It is sufficient merely to delay it until no one cares.”(Piasco era lol)
“Victory is not always winning the battle…but rising every time you fall.”
“From triumph to failure is only one step.”
"A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of colored ribbon."(trophies y'know)
"Always carry champagne! In victory you deserve it, and in defeat you need it!"
Tell me Fernando wouldn't use these as instagram captions! TELL ME!!! But the other thing that was driving me crazy is how well excerpts from the personality/image section of Napoleone's wiki line up with testimonials from Fernando's doc. Examples:
"He cheated at cards, but repaid the losses; he had to win at everything he attempted."(Napoleon)
"Whatever activity I take part in, I have this compulsion to find the compeititon in it."(Fernando)
"He could rapidly dictate a series of complex commands to his subordinates, keeping in mind where major units were expected to be at each future point, and like a chess master, 'seeing' the best plays moves ahead"(Napoleon)
"When you talk to him, his mental capacity is so strong. He's talking to you, but his brain is thinking ahead"(Fernando)
Like c'mon tell me they aren't at least a bit similar??? There's a lot else I find similar about them but I cannot list my whole manifesto here skdjlsd
Anyways this AU would be Fernando as Napoleon and would be Webbonso -> Strollonso. Basically, Napoleon had two wives: his first wife, who was older than him and who he was super in love with, but had to divorce because they couldn't have kids, but he still loved her deeply. And then his second wife , who was much younger thanhim and from the Austrian royal family, and this was a politically motivated marriage but they still got on pretty well!!(also it's funny, before she married him she didn't want to be with him because the public perception of him made him out to be not the best guy, but then she wrote to her father about how loving and kind he was. very Strollonso, no?)
War of Spanish Succession:
Mostly explained it here and here. I'm not too interested in either Philip V nor Charles VI themselevs as individuals, but rather the roles they fufill in the "story." Though I will say, I got hit with a brick while reading Charles VI's wiki when finding out that he apparently had several male lovers! So I guess my AU having an arranged m/m marriage isn't even that far off the mark hahaha. Why did they have a 13 year war, they should have just arranged a marriage between the two canidates sigh sigh. But yeah, mostly Austria vs. Spain, I think it fits well with the Vettonso rivalry!! They would end up being: Fernando I King of Spain and Sebastian I Holy Roman Emperor hehe. Also I sketched some more:
Napoleonic Hussars:
Explained here as well as with art, and more art here. I'm really still proud of the points I made, I just feel very ardently about it!!! Not about any specific figure, but rather a historical group that I think lines up extremely well with F1 drivers. But this one is fun cause I can kinda insert any driver into it and they'll work pretty well. It's fun to figure out what kingdom what driver would be, either based off their nationality or the nationality of their team. I remember vividly staring at a map from this era trying to figure out where Maranello would be....But like Renault = Kingdom of France and RBR = Kingdom of Austria, and stuff like that
Rennaisance Muse:
Mostly just this post, I've not thought about this one incredibly deeply. Mostly just brainrot about how I think Seb looks like The David with his curly hair
#catie answer an ask without making it a soliloquy challenge: failed#hope this is at least sort of interesting to people other than me!#basically: I like reading about F1. I like reading about history. why not mix them :DDD#also sorry Grace that this ended up being more about my AUs rather than which historical figures align with who#if im gonna compare a driver to a figure then my brain is like 'this needs to make absolute sense historically' so it becomes its own AU#though i think fernando is a much easier driver than any others to make historical comparisons about#and thats really only bcs hes very specific with how he portrays himself and how the public eye is supposed to view him#hes much more of a 'character' and is easier to compare bcs historical figures also end up becoming chararictured bcs of the passage of tim#having a lot of fun with this most recent one!!! the idea of arranged marriage vettonso(with boy king seb) is brainrotting me#all of these have ships as well that theyre kinda focused around#hussars is the most general but Ive already drawn martian for it sooooo#and the rennaisance is also martian#nandopoleon I already said what it would be(god the irl age gaps align so well to each other)#and then obv spanish succession is vettonso arranged marriage#anyways aaaahhhhh fun side projects which I like to research and draw!!!#and ik ive said it a lot but thank you guys for showing interest!! its pretty niche i think....#catie.asks.#catie.rambling.txt#boy king au#hussar au#nandopoleon alonsoparte
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What are your all-time favorite outfits from Twisted Wonderland?
Hello @letterstoear, thank you for ask! I've had a lot of fun making this post, and I'm so sorry that it took forever to answer!
Every time I was certain I had my list narrowed down, I remembered another outfit I really liked. (Also, I'm a little bit biased, as you will see...haha). This time, I focused on event outfits to make it easier for myself. Maybe in the future I'll post my "reviews" on dorm uniforms or Halloween costumes.
I am always blown away by the the little details that Yana Toboso and the rest of the design team have added to each of characters' outfits, because they give some interesting insight to their personalities and backgrounds.
Without further ado, let's discuss some outfits! (Please note that there are spoilers for upcoming events from the JP server, as well as some groovy arts!)
My Favorite Twisted Wonderland Outfits
10. Floyd's Outdoor Wear (Vargas Camp)
Most of the outfits on my list are on the extravagant side. I recently bought a volume of Black Butler, where there was a note about how Yana Toboso loves to draw clothing, and it truly shows.
But in contrast to seeing our beloved characters in over-the-top costumes, it's refreshing to see them wearing casual outfits once in a while as well and see their individual, everyday styles.
I'll admit that I haven't played any of the Vargas Camp events, and have a grand total of zero (0) cards from this series. I'm not sure why; I always miss the event's runtime for some reason.
Still, I've always loved Floyd's little sling bag with the eel keychain, as well as the teal visor. The bright colors stand out and are appealing.
The whole outfit looks like something you could get from a store like Uniqlo, and sometimes it is nice to have that sort of realism in a magical game. He looks like an ordinary teenager I could find on the street. Except...if I did find Floyd on the street, I'd be running in the other direction. But that's not the main idea here.
9. Azul's Glorious Masquerade Outfit
At first, I sort of forgot that this SSR existed. When the PV for Glorious Masquerade came out, I was more focused on Malleus.
However, eventually, many people began to cosplay as GloMas Azul, and they all looked so amazing. I began to appreciate the outfit more after seeing people pose and dance in it. Azul also tends to have some of the best fanart, and fans have spared no expense when drawing him wearing this.
My favorite part of the outfit is his coat. I like the silhouette it creates with a high-waist belt, and the long coattails that resemble tentacles. The ruffles on his trousers are cute, too. I would buy a pair if I could. Unfortunately, it's hard to see these details on his in-game sprite.
As for his accessories, the pearls are so dramatic (and so very Azul). His round glasses are also cute, I hope he wears them again!
8. Idia's Suitor Suit
One look at Idia's Ghost Marriage outfit, and you can really tell that it was designed by Yana Toboso. His gloves, coat, and cravat make him look like he's in the Victorian Era. Also, doesn't he look sort of like Grelle from Black Butler?
Speaking of Grelle, Idia's outfit is meant to look more like funeral attire, between the long, black coat and the lilies pinned to his shoulder. There are also skulls hidden throughout his outfit, such as on his jacket chain and cufflinks. I was still new to TWST at the time, so I just thought that Idia liked gothic clothing. I didn't realize he was (at least in his mind) attending his own funeral!
Let's not forget his new hairstyle! This is one of Idia's first SSRs if I remember correctly, so it was exciting to see him with a ponytail.
My love for this outfit also comes from my love for the story associated with it. Fans have pointed out that Idia's "arranged marriage" with Eliza parallels the myth of Hades and Persephone. The design team and Yana were so clever for this.
I don't have this card, either, but I hope to pick him up one day!
7. Ortho's Fairy Gear
The Shroud brothers are luckyーthey are probably two of the characters with the most SSRs in the game.
That being said, we all have to agree that Ortho's fairy gear is one of the most unique and avant-garde cards in the game.
I really enjoy the white and gold color scheme in this event. His color-changing wings are stunning, and the piece covering his eyes makes him look very mysterious.
I thought this card was cool when I first saw it, but then I learned that Ortho's outfit and hair can turn pink, which is even better.
Every time I see his "pointe shoes," it makes me imagine Ortho and Idia trying to learn how to dance together in Idia's room, and Idia obsessively studying ballet costumes for his younger brother.
Yet again, I don't have this card, but my best friend does! At least I can admire him from her phone...
6. Silver's Rabbit Wear
There is no way that this outfit is just an R card! When this card was first advertised in one of the JR rail train stations, the pictures showed this card with Deuce's hometown in the background instead of the standard Diasomnia R background, so I thought that this card would at least be an SR. (Although I can't complain so much, because that means it's free!)
Silver is so princely. I am convinced that he can look good in anything. I am fond of pastel colors, and the pink/blue color scheme suits him, as the TWST version of Aurora. The bows may be silly, but I find them adorable.
Compared to the other boys in this event, Silver's outfit looks a little more like a soldier's (albeit a toy soldier's or a nutcracker's), which is a cool touch.
5. Deuce's Rabbit Wear
Deuce's hometown event was truly one of my favorite events that came out in the JP sever last year. Not only were some of my most favorite characters there, but they were dressed up in the most whimsical outfits possible. (And we got to meet Deuce's motherーshe's the coolest!)
Since Deuce is the main character of this event, his outfit bears the most resemblance to the white rabbit's in most classic illustrations, complete with a bow tie, top hat, and, of course, his pocket watch. His outfit has a blue color scheme. Like Azul in GloMas, Deuce also wears round glasses in his groovy art. Overall, it looks like the sweet ouji style, although I'm not very familiar with this sub-fashion. If anyone who is reading this has studied/worn this style of fashion, please let me know!
I used to play Love Nikki and Shining Nikki (two fashion-themed gacha games), which also featured lolita dresses inspired by Alice in Wonderland characters. For this reason, Deuce's outfit in particular feels very nostalgic to me.
4. Lilia's Right General Armor
Here's another departure from the cute pastel outfits...
Sleeping Beauty was one of my favorite Disney movies as a child. I always remembered Maleficent's "goons" as short, silly little creatures wearing simple green tunics.
So how on earth did we get to Right General Lilia Vanrouge?!
Seriously, I'm just stunned by how the artists looked at the source material and created something so radically, yet wonderfully, different.
I'm curious about the green stones (jades?) on his outfit--around his waist, there are several pieces attached to tassels, and he has two strapped to his right leg. The material matches the stone used for his weapon. Maybe it represents his status in Briar Valley. If you check his (unposed) sprite, you can also see that he is wearing something around his waist that looks like folded bat wings.
Like everyone else, I'm obsessed with his long hairーit makes him look so formidable, especially with that hood. My friends and I like to joke that his ponytail makes him look like a character in a Chinese martial arts drama.
Again, the story associated with this card made me love it even more. Few books have made me cry as much as Book 7 of TWST.
3. Malleus' Glorious Masquerade Outfit
While Sleeping Beauty was my favorite movie as a young child, when I got older, I began to love The Hunchback of Notre Dame. It was only natural for this outfit to be among my favorites for this reason.
There are so many details here. The feathered hat. The sheer sleeves. The golden embroidery. The split cape. It's honestly overwhelming to take in at once.
I can say that my favorite detail is his green earrings. They really bring out his eye color, and the PV made them so sparkly.
In addition, everyone I've ever seen who has cosplayed as GloMas Malleus or has drawn fanart of him has increased my appreciation of this outfit.
[Now for some very spoiler-y stuff] The fact that this event came just before the release of Chapter 7 is worth noting. Doesn't it feel a bit tragic that just before Malleus' overblot, we have a chance to see him wearing an outfit that makes him look especially like his mother, having fun and being the star at the masquerade? And what about the feathers on his shouldersーdo they hint at another side of his family? There's so much foreshadowing and mystery going on, and nothing is more suitable for the occasion than masquerade attire.
2. Kalim's New Year Attire
I've already rambled about how sentimental this outfit is to me in a previous post, but in summary: New Year is my favorite holiday, and the New Year's Sale event was the first event I "seriously" participated in. Kalim looks excessively cute and festive in his kimono, and every time I see this card, I feel nostalgic and in the holiday mood.
1. (Tied) Epel's Applepom Outfit and Riddle's Beach Outfit
I'm really sorry, Epel and Riddle are my favorite characters, and in the end, I refuse to chose between them. They're like my younger brothers! I try to collect all of their cards, so I pay attention to their outfits the most, and picking only one outfit for each character was a challenge in itself.
My favorite part of Epel's Applepom outfit is his cloak. It looks so fluffy and warm. When you set him as your home screen character, you also have the option to "swap looks" and see his outfit without the cloak--the apple embroidery on the rest of his outfit is very detailed. Many fans have mentioned that the outfits people wear in Harveston resemble traditional Scandinavian clothing, which is really cool!
The little apple slices on his cap are everything.
And I'm always happy to see characters in different hairstyles, such as Epel's little ponytail.
One of my headcanons is that you're allowed to call Epel cute, but only when he wears this specific outfit, because he takes it as a complement to his culture.
As for Riddle, we're all so used to seeing him wearing formal suits. It's so nice to see him loosening up for once. He looks so happy, now that he has the chance to see the ocean for the first time!
I also happened to be on vacation at the beach around the time this event came out, so it felt like a gift.
I have to laugh a little, because there are so many flowers on his outfit. Even Jack pointed it out in the story. But he looks so cute!
I suppose we have to discuss the elephant in the room. My friend saw it before me, so she spammed me with messages along the lines of "RIDDLE IS WEARING A CROP TOP!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!" and I naturally thought she was pranking me. But lo and behold, it's the truth. I like to headcanon that among the rest of the cast in this event, everyone has made an unspoken mutual agreement not to mention it. This Victorian child has already been through enough, and not a word must reach Mrs. Rosehearts.
Thank you once again for the ask! For anyone who read all of this, what do you think about these outfits, and which ones in the game are your favorite?
#The words “short” and “brief” are not in my vocabulary apparently#But it's alright#I just really love the work and details that the artists have put into the game#As well as the fan content! I'm so happy I joined the TWST fandom at this time#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland#floyd leech#azul ashengrotto#idia shroud#ortho shroud#twst silver#silver vanrouge#deuce spade#lilia vanrouge#malleus draconia#kalim al asim#epel felmier#riddle rosehearts
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20 questions for fic writers
Tagged by @coraniaid and @isagrimorie. thanks!
1. How many works do you have on Ao3?
45 stories
2. What's your total Ao3 word count?
361,583 words
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Actively? Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Life is Strange, Mass Effect, Avatar the Last Airbender, Warrior Nun. But i'd be down for other stuff!
Formerly: MTV Scream, She-Ra, Oxenfree
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
You Got Cool (She-Ra, 6,990 kudos)
Everybody Needs a Fence to Lean On (Life is Strange, 2,140 kudos)
Tear You Apart (Life is Strange, 1,918 kudos)
Every Other Freckle (Life is Strange, 1,579 kudos)
Dream Blue Haze (Life is Strange, 1,535 kudos)
5. Do you respond to comments?
I've been trying to more recently! But I'm not always great at it. At the very least when someone comments something detailed and thoughtful I try to reply - those comments always mean a lot to me.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Not fully intentionally but the place @holdsteady and I left our collaborative fic How to Live Here was basically right after a massive fight/breakup between characters that we fully planned to resolve and then just.... never did. Oops. Surprisingly, people are very rarely mean to us about this.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Probably Body Language? Very much intended to have that one wrapped up with a bow.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Not in a long time. Last time I really did was on some of my Life is Strange fics (either homophobic hate or bc i was writing a ship people didn't like).
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Yeah! Femslash only.
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
I sometimes joke about/hc elaborate crossovers when I'm watching stuff with my friends, but I don't really have any interest in writing any. Or reading any, really, for that matter.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yeah! Had one of my LiS fics translated to Vietnamese. That was cool.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yeah! I co-wrote How to Live Here with my best friend @holdsteady! That's the only one that's been published, at least. @nataliving adn @jewishsuperfam and i have worked on some stuff together too and that's been fun :)
14. What's your all time favorite ship?
I don't know if I actually can pick one but honest Buffy/Faith are all-timers and absolutely formative. Second to that would be Rachel/Max/Chloe from Life is Strange.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
God, How to Live Here absolutely haunts me. There's a few Mass Effect ones (Shepard/Liara arranged marriage AU and my Jack/Miranda series) that I would love to finish but probably never will. Those are the ones that probably have the most written for them that I just haven't wrapped up.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I think I'm good at a lot of it! I write pretty good smut, I'm good at character voice, I think my writing is pretty readable
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Actually writing lmao. I struggle with coming up with workable ideas. I intimidate myself out of projects a lot. I fall off stuff kinda easy too tbh. And I'm TERRIBLE at writing alone - for anything bigger than a oneshot I need someone to hype me up and hold my hand through it or else I get bored or lose confidence :?
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
Generally in favor of skipping the google translate stuff. It's usually pretty whack
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Technically digimon when i was a little kid and before I even knew what fanfic was. First i posted was Danny Phantom
20. Favorite fic you've written?
I think Body Language is probably my best fic but for sentimental reasons I really love How to Live Here, since i wrote it with my best friend.
tagging @nataliving, @holdsteady, @shittinggold, @earthenterran, @lafgl, @aliceinwondrbra,, @strangesmallbard, @areweunderscoreweare, @jewishsuperfam, @morningsound15
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nothins gonna hurt you baby | ahs asylum ; k.walker
tag list babes || req rules / fandoms+characters reqs open || send me asks? || masterlist
CHAPTERS ;
Not sure if this is gonna have more than one part, tbh. But my AHS masterlist can be found here.
AUTHORS NOTES;
This one is gonna have dark themes jsyk. So this was inspired by a headcanons req I got recently and it re-ignited my love for Kit Walker from AHS Aslyum, so.. Here we are. Buckle up. It's gonna be an interesting ride to say the least. aka, ashes is going to have to do loooots of research to pull this one off accurately. This probably won't follow along with Asylum's plot if, and a huge if, I choose to make this into a multi part thing. For now, it's a oneshot. Just to be safe.
A huuuge thanks to everyone reading / encouraging my bullshit because when I started posting my writing on here again after my hiatus, I came back with nothing beyond the expectation to get my ideas out of my head before they drive me insane. You guys don't know how much your interactions have blown me away, seriously. They've been a huge motivator for me to keep going, the likes, the comments, the reblogs / reblogs with tags, all of it. They all blow me away and I can't even begin to explain it.
SUMMARY;
-- he is your protector.
PAIRING;
Kit Walker x Fem!reader ( Beyond having female parts / outfits + personality that will come if I write more to this sooner or later, she's a blank slate?)
WARNINGS;
murder implied, mental illness, trauma, hints of an arranged ab*sive marriage -in all forms, questionable practices from the 50's era asylums, blood / injuries, reader is non-verbal and her mind has mostly blocked out the crime she's committed that got her sent to Briarcliffe to begin with. The guards, nuns / orderlies mistreating the patients -this sadly, was commonplace back in the day, Protective!Kit should be his own warning. Writer advises that if you can't handle a little darkness in your reading experience or you have trauma related to any of the above that it's probably better advised that you don't read this because writer is not trying to traumatize anyone. Writer is also not a doctor, law enforcement official or a medical professional / psychologist of any shape/form and there may be inaccuracies that slip through.
TAGLIST;
@krys-orion is the only person on my ahs taglist. If you read the warnings and you can't read this, love, I completely understand because this is not the stuff I typically post. If you want to be on my AHS taglist please click the link above.
OTHER STUFF;
Loosely based on AHS Asylum's season. There will probably be a lot of changes made and/or it may not use events in said season at all. Please read the warnings above, cannot stress this enough. Fun fact. This is named after a Cigarettes After Sex song on my filth writing playlist.
You keep to yourself because it’s easier. Everything is scary for you, there’s too many people and too much noise and some of them are big, mean and scary. And then there’s the orderlies and the nuns and they’re terrifying.
You’ve been abandoned in hell. Nobody’s swooping in to save the day. It’s either Briarcliffe or prison for you and you’re lucky you got sent here even though it doesn’t feel like it most days.
The reality hits hard and it hits fast and in the end, you decide that maybe it’s just better. At least in Briarcliffe, he can’t put his hands on you anymore. He can’t try to force you to be intimate with him just because you’re his wife and that’s how it’s supposed to be. You don’t have to look at him, you don’t have to smell the whiskey on his breath or hear him mock you when you won’t pretend to love him.
What the hell did he expect?
You never wanted to marry him in the first place, your parents and his set it all up like a business transaction. To be fair, this is kind of what it was. You were a peace offering from your family to his .And you went along with it because you were meek and mild and too afraid to stand your ground. Until one day, you weren’t anymore.
,, and anyway, he can’t hurt you anymore now can he?” it’s the fragmented sliver of reality that slips in and jars you.
They keep saying you killed him but it’s all a blur. Blood on your hands, the clink of a tire tool on the concrete out in the garage, the death wheeze when you bent down to watch the life leave his eyes that last time he laid hands on you and you finally snapped. You might have killed him, who knows -you did kill him and you know you did. The doctor in here keeps saying it’s your mind block the trauma when you tell people that he’s alive and kicking and you’re afraid one day he’ll get his hands on you again. And maybe it is. But the fear is real. It’s ever-present and there’s nothing you can do to get rid of it.
Today is your first day in the common area, your first day off of solitary. You’re led in with shackles around your wrist -this is a joke, it’s not like you need restraint, you killed the only person you’ve ever wanted to, after all. And you’re led to a chair next to the big windows with a view of the garden on the grounds.
“You keep actin real good, sweetheart.. You be good t’ me and I might get ‘em to let you out, get some color in those cheeks again.” the guard’s words sound so much like him that your fists clench before you can stop it, your nails leaving crescents in your palm because you dig in so hard as the fear settles in. He takes off the shackles so you can move freely. You’re still trying to figure out why they were necessary. Flinching when the guard leans into you real close and winks. “I’ll come round later, sweetheart. You best be good to me.”
And then a loud voice behind you. Heavy accent.
Shouting and shoving, a brown haired man and the guard rolling on the floor.
The fight’s broken up and the guard goes off to fix his injuries. The brown haired man sits down on the sill of the window. “Name’s Kit.”
You give him a weak smile and your eyes dart around, it’s almost as if you’re terrified that any minute, he’ll jump out, drag you by your hair down the corridor because you’re so close to another man.
You’re non-verbal for the most part, so you pick up the pen and notepad left behind for you.
I’m ___.
Kit furrows his brows and stares at you a few seconds when you shove the notepad at him. He finally takes it, brown eyes dancing over the words, a roguish grin playing at nice lips. He’s got a kind face and if you were more talkative, -maybe one day, the thought comes, you’d tell him so.
For now, you keep it to yourself.
He takes the pen from your hands and you bite your lip when rough and thick digits brush against your smaller and more delicate fingers. He’s got his head dipped low, eyes trained on the notepad. As his tongue rolls over his lips, he writes out what he wants to say to you.. Just in case all the noise and talking bothers you or somethin.
– That’s a pretty name, dollface. Heard what that guard said to y’. He won’t bother you again. I promise.
He holds out the notepad and you take it, biting your lips as you read over what he’s written out. You glance up at him and he’s studying you, curious.
It’s almost like he wants to ask you something, he’s just not going to.
- Thank you. You can call me whatever you like. Please don’t get yourself hurt or in any kind of trouble with the orderlies on my account, Kit. Please don’t.
You hold it back out to him and he takes it, reading. Dragging a big and rough hand through dark brown hair. Chuckling as he rubs his chin and thinks for a few seconds before reaching out to take the pen.
- Think I’m gonna call you doll. Dollface. You’re cute. Don’t worry your pretty little head, doll. Y’ need somebody to look out for y’, alright? Trust me.
He holds the notepad and pen back out to you and you take it, twisting the pen between your fingers as you gaze at the words on the paper. You can feel your cheeks burn when you read what he’s said about you being cute. It’s probably the first nice thing anyone’s ever said to you. You glance up at him and shake your head no at him, frowning. Then you take the pen and start to write out your response.
-Kit.. Please don’t. It’s not worth the trouble, okay?
It is, doll. And I’m going to, whether y’ want me to or not.
You sigh when he shows you the notepad. He’s probably one of those stubborn types. Nothing you say will matter, he’s going to do what he wants, regardless.
Do you want to walk around? The guard is full of shit. You can walk, you just can’t go out yet. They did it to me too.
You nod and he holds out his hand. You gaze at it warily but you reach out and you take hold of it. Kit pulls you up from where you’re sitting and he leads you out of the room. As you roam the halls with him, he tells you about what got him put in, he tells you that he knows some of why you were put in too and you swallow hard when he admits that. As you round a corner, he stops you both, putting a hand up against the column of your neck. “This is.. It’s okay, right?”
You nod. He smiles a little, it’s a sweet little grin, his cheeks turning a pale pink. “I’m gonna take care of you now, alright? Everything is gonna be just fine, doll.”
#kit walker#kit walker imagine#kit walker fanfiction#kit walker x reader#kit walker fanfic#kit walker oneshot#kit walker x fem!reader#// read all warnings + proceed with extreme caution
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hiiiii i have some questions….
10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?
13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?
17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.
32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?
Hi Rowan!!! 🫂 Thank you so much for the ask, I loved thinking about all of these!
10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?
There are a lot of pieces of writing that have haunted me, but I'll share one of the first: I first read When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead when I was younger, and I remember first reading it and feeling unsettled, feeling like I had stumbled into something I didn't understand. I re-read it recently for fun, and the impact was different. I really admire authors who write for younger readers, middle-grade novels, etc, giving kids these excellent books that get them thinking about the world.
More recently, a poem: "Reverse Suicide" by Matt Rasmussen was so simple and haunting; it perfectly captures that sense of wanting to wind time back.
I think my own writing haunts me in a couple of ways, different from reading other media: maybe if I wasn't able to finish something, or I couldn't articulate something how I wanted to—or maybe if I really liked something I wrote and it reminds me of a certain time in my life, and I want to hold on to that.
13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?
I'd say two things that are difficult are revenge and grief. When I write about revenge, I get caught up in the big picture, in trying to make it mean something. Grief is even harder, I get lost in the details. It becomes very personal. I often write by trying to imagine myself in a situation or drawing on what I've felt; that makes writing grief difficult. A lot of things I love reading are hard for me to write.
What's easy? I'd say... growing up and feeling too young, wanting and imagining, missing people, the casual ways we love and hurt each other. Families—I love writing about family dynamics. Established patterns and adventures.
17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.
I have so many random details about this arranged marriage AU!
Aside from the Anderfels, I think I'm most curious about the Free Marches, so I have set the majority of it in Tantervale.
I love thinking about my Trevelyan's family. I imagine her as the youngest with one brother and one sister, the eldest. Though it has nothing at all to do with this WIP, I like thinking about how any of the three of them could have been Inquisitor: Aarush would be an archer going to bat for his sister, Kalpana a sword + shield warrior trying to protect her but stifling her. I think he would fall for Cassandra while trying to mess with her, and she would fall for Josephine who finally convinces her to loosen up...
I'm playing with the idea that lyrium dulls templars' senses of taste—and one facet of Cullen's healing is getting to taste and find joy in food again
Rylen has taken over Cullen's job and Hawke loves to hound him. I love to invent details that do not carry over so for one line of this fic, Rylen has a sister who is a mage. She is likely the reason he became a Templar.
One big thing about leaving the Circle for Ashna is not being a few floors away from a library, and she can't help but miss that; I'm thinking of whether Thedas libraries are mainly the domain of scholars/universities unless sponsored as a Chantry initiative. People would buy books instead, if they have the money—making them a luxury (Back to Wynne and her novels)
32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?
I'm going to nerd out a little—I'm really fascinated by translation in literature and how much the translator can shift meaning through their word choice. There's a lot of power there. From "La siesta del martes" by Gabriel García Marquez:
She was riding with her spine firmly braced against the back of the seat, holding in both hands a handbag of flaking patent leather. She had the careful serenity of someone used to poverty.
I first read this in a Spanish class, and the whole story is full of rich details. Every line matters, there are no wasted words. It's one of my favorite short stories.
Another line I keep coming back to is from this poem (one of my favorites) by Pablo Neruda:
Their volume of kisses breaks and goes under / fought at the gate of the summer wind
The imagery is light and fresh and it brings the idea of change, the freedom of summer—I think this is my favorite translation of this poem and pulls beautifully from the original. Another, from "Nothing but Death":
...and there are beds sailing into a harbour
where death is waiting, dressed as an admiral.
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👀
Cardverse AU!
Sorry this took awhile anon, I forgot about this, and also I had to decide which au to choose. I'm going to go with my version of Cardverse. I actually have worked with some fics within a universe of Cardverse, but recently I started up a Cardverse rp that made me decide to tweak my old plot idea a bit. Also there is so much to this au but I'm going to focus on the main plot with GerEng.
Originally it was going to be a plot that the old Spades Monarchs (not Arthur and Al, the previous rulers/Arthur's parents decided to grow Spades' power and influence through arranged marriages. Though it was fun to write, the parents became very cartoon type villains and I wasn't always the happiest with that. So some changes.
Arthur's parents aren't around any more, dead and all that. I am going to take some notes from the British Empire and apply them to Spades. Spades used to be the most powerful of the four kingdoms. Everyone feared them. Ya da ya da ya da. But one day, their empire started to crumble. I'm thinking they had a war with Diamonds and lost a lot of land. Then clubs saw them weakened and took over some land. And by the end of those two wars, Spades was in debt. By the time Arthur was to take the throne they were a shell of who they used to be. It's especially hard on Arthur who takes on the throne, alone, because the former rulers have passed away and Alfred is too young to be crowned king.
Alfred is crowned at 18, and despite Arthur's best efforts to rebuild the kingdom, process is slow and Alfred realizes that they need some form of outside help. Arthur is against it, raised with the belief that Spades needs no one. They rose to power alone, they would get back on their feet alone. But as Arthur continues to see his people suffer, he realizes he needs to swallow his pride to improve their lives.
Alfred and Yao have been brainstorming and have secured a deal with Hearts, the youngest of the four kingdoms (meaning Spades hasn't done much to fuck up their relationship yet). It is an alliance by marriage, combining the two kingdoms into one. Hearts will provide them with the financial stability they need while Spades resources become Hearts and Hearts Spades. Arthur, knowing Al is still so young and having a crush on a Club noble man, offers to be the one to be married off to the newly crowned King of Hearts.
Traditionally in Spades, you wouldn't see your fiancé until the day of the wedding, but Hearts values connection between spouses so they convince the advisors of Spades (with the help of King Alfred) to give Arthur and the King of Hearts a courting period. So Arthur is sent to Hearts for a month.
Both Ludwig and Arthur are hesitant to this engagement. Arthur sees Ludwig as cold and calculating. All the other kingdoms joke that he's the heartless King of Hearts. Not cruel, but pretty much only cared about business', not really emotional other than with anger or indifference. Which on the one hand means that the relationship will remain strictly business, but on the other, it would be nice to have at least some form of warm relationship.
Ludwig sees Arthur as a hot headed, intimidating, ruling with an iron fist. Honestly, Ludwig is a little worried Arthur will be too control and basically takeover both kingdoms (after all Spades has been known in the past for their hunger for land and power). But they need the lumber and metals from Spades.
But when the two are finally able to meet when Arthur comes to visit they find they actually have a lot in common. Though at first it's a little rocky, there is an air of distance, only discussing the details of their alliance and spending the rest of the time separated.
Ludwig realizes Arthur has been cooped up in his room for the most part, so he decides to personally give Arthur a tour and perhaps get to know his future spouse a bit better. It's very awkward and silent until they get to the garden. It's filled to the brim with roses, Arthur's favourite flower. Though Arthur tries not to show his excitement, Ludwig catches him eyeing the flowers and cuts one for him. And from there they start to bond, finding shared interests and fear of being vulnerable and open about who they really were.
Some of my fav moments. Ludwig gifting Arthur the castle library Beauty and the Beast style. Ludwig and Arthur sneaking to the kitchen late at night to bake together with Ludwig having to climb up to Arthur's balcony and carry Arthur to the ground (Arthur hanging onto to Ludwig so tight because he's terrified of heights). Them being all shy when they hold hands for the first time. Getting into so many moments that are right out of romance novels that these two secretly read because they're hopeless romantics at heart.
They get married, Spades gets back on it's feet and an era of peace is ushered in with other Spade nobility marrying into other kingdoms which ends up creating a mega alliance or something (I don't know the details yet, I just want AmeLiet and Scotfra).
There is also a lot to say about Al and Arthur's relationship but it hasn't really changed from my other au and this is already long so if anyone wants to hear, I'll make a separate post.
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hi !!! ^^ for the fanfic questions (I got a bit carried away but ahem): 3, 5, 8, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 22
Hi!!!! wowie, so many numbers, you didn't have to go so hard with it djsfkfkf
3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?
Oooh, hmm, I really liked The Feeling of being Loved, though I always lamented not being able to figure out how to continue it. Sin of Greed was fun, but I kinda forced myself to rush through the latter half of the series. Reconciliation has been a lot of fun so far too ^_^
5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?
Well, I don't know about NEVER, but I am a disgusting sucker for those typical 'arranged marriage with the archduke prince tyrant?!' kind of au for touken or twiyor jskdkf. It requires a commitment I am not willing to dedicate myself to...yet.
8. What project(s) are you currently working on?
There's Reconciliation, which is both much longer and taking more time than I initially anticipated lol, and I will be returning to The Fire that Burns (etc.) eventually, I swear! I am also working on a small project for a Nier Zine I am collaborating with.
I would like to continue that Missing You fic at some point, and if time allows it, I would like to rewrite a few older fics, though maybe that's a waste of time?? Idk?? I just have ideas for how I would've written them differently now.
13. How much planning do you do before writing?
Um....I..imagine it? Repeatedly. Maybe a doodle or two...yh..
14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?
Ah, jeez, I dunno, that feels too flattering sflskf. Ummmm, Sin of Greed, possibly, I imagined that series quite vividly, though I do have future ideas I would like to see as animes or whatever...
Gonna combine 15, (How do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters?), and 16, (At what point in the process do you come up with titles?), for this one:
More often than not, I decide on one after I've written it and have a better grasp of what would be most fitting, either thematically or visually. Makes it sound more professional than it actually is, lol.
17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?
Mmm...research...hmm...I suppose...synonyms...and the sensation of various wounds, their severity, other very important details like that. And clothes.
18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?
Ah, jeez, my memory sucks. Uhh ehh umm let's see...I quite liked this one I wrote recently: The pressure of the city seemed to slip away the further they drove, despite knowing that the chain that kept them there was rattling loudly behind him, promising them their eventual return to the hellscape they call home. I hope it's a good line, lol.
19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.
Dang...I just posted a new chapter dkfkfks. I promise I'll post a teaser some point in the future!!
22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?
I make it a rule to know how it'll end before I start writing. It's one of those writing rules I took to heart when I was younger and I think it helps! I think...of course, it can always change as it develops.
Happy now?? Was this enough for you??? (Kidding, thank you for so many questions, I hope the answers were at least worth it jsjfkfl)
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Five Favorite Fics
I was tagged by @missypup to list my top five favorite fics that I’ve ever written! Tag games like this stress me out because I have quite a few fics that I’ve written that I like, so choosing just 5 is sometimes difficult, but at the same time, it forces me to be nice to myself, so there you go lmao
Do I have to do this in order? I’m not going to. I did one of my series for one of the fics, but I have an extra fic on there just in case we’re not allowing that lmao
Melt Your Headaches, Call It Home
I think this fic is my most popular fic which is funny because I didn’t think this would get any attention at all, but I enjoyed writing it and it will always hold a special place in my heart.
Of Sith and Mouse Droids
This one is super recent and I love it!!!! It’s very obviously one I wrote for myself, and that’s just fine because that’s what my fics are. They’re for me. lol, but for real, I love this little one-shot because I love my sithywan that I made just for this little AU I made. He is precious and I love him.
“Can you hear me?”
This one was written for whumpay, but it wasn’t really whumpy, it was more angsty, but I loved it. It does contain an implied character death.
Obi-Wan & Mace
This is literally just a collection of fics surrounding Obi-Wan and Mace because I love them and I love their relationship and you don’t see too many fics with just them, so I had to write some. Obviously.
Interviews (series)
This one is just a series of “clips” in like a “here’s a closer look at the Jedi Order and the men they work with” sort of a thing. I’m obsessed with it and I’m always digging for ideas for it, but it’s just a fun little series!
(+1) So Will I
There’s every possibility that this one is my most popular fic, tbh. I can’t ever remember. I’ll have to check, but it combines my favorite things (fantasy au, arranged marriage au, blind obi-wan, codywan), and was, once again, written for me, but it got a lot of peeps following it which was weird, but I love it!!! It’s also going through a rewrite at the moment and I’m so excited!!!!
I tag people now? Right? Oh boy, I don’t know who’s been tagged already. But uh, No Pressure Tags: @galateagalvanized @redminibike1 @kckenobi @oathkeeperoxas @lttrsfrmlnrrgby
#tag game#five favorite fics#melt your headaches call it home is my most popular#i just checked lmao#kali writes
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Notes - All the Paths that Lay Before Us
So something happens when you spend a few months writing some OC’s: you get attached, and so - just when I was finishing writing All the Paths that Lay Before Us, I commissioned some portraits of the three main characters from @prismantis.
Just three teen girls hanging out in Rosohna, one of who ends up being one of the most powerful people in Xhorhas.
If anyone is seeing this for the first time and is interested, the fic is here:
It’s second in a series, but you don’t have to read the first. I do like the first, though.
Some notes, left to right on them (pretty unspoilery, but maybe more interesting post-fic)
Reisa:
All three girls are children of shopkeepers - Reisa’s family are sewers and tailors.
She’s a druegar because I just loved the idea of taking a dreugar teenager and figuring out how to make her extremely, almost over-the-top femme - without the use of color. So she’s experimenting with trying to shave patterns in her beard, she’s got a lacy scarf over a bald head, and also just embroidered and well-sewn fun dresses.
Something that got cut (but might have explained a little more of her personality) is that Reisa is the only one from a large family - and with even more druegar aunties. What Reisa’s worried about is that she’s doing to be spotted or overheard by someone who knows her mom, and everyone knows her mom.
Tsaris:
Her family has an import/export business with the Xhorhassian wastes- selling Wastelander wear in Rosohna, and Krynn goods to various wastelander tribes, including her father’s. Her mother, the ‘religious scold’, is a Rosahnan born drow who sees the business as a way to subtly bring the Luxon to the Wastewalkers.
Her father, meanwhile, mostly saw the marriage as a good business deal.
So it’s mentioned that she’d just spent a ‘storm season’ with her father’s tribe - in my mind, a storm season lasts six months. And it’s six months of really rough living! Tsaris has a lot of affinity for her father’s people, but I do feel like a lot of it is growing up in Rosohna and feeling extremely other - definitely not wanting to emulate her religious mother, but not really having a clear idea of what being a Wastewalker entails until recently.
I’m not sure how clear it is, but Tsaris also has a huge crush on Xandi that Xandi’s unaware of - she’s very handsy with Xandi, bluescreens when asked to imagine a hotter Xandi, challenges Xandi to a kissing contest, literally revolves around her a couple times. Reisa knows about it, but she wish she didn’t.
So, to recap - she’s the half-drow daughter of an extremely religious mother and a somewhat disaffected father, who is still trying to process the last six months of her life, and then she finds out that her best friend and crush has the soul of a highly influential member of her mother’s religion. Baby is going through it. :(
Xandi:
Xandi’s mom, of course, runs a general goods store. And it’s just her and her mom, with all of the kind of weird adultification that can happen in that arrangement. Xandi doesn’t really describe herself at any point during this whole thing, but she and her mom share a closet. Babygirl is wearing the Exandrian equivalent of worn out LL Bean.
There’s a line near the beginning that indicates that Xandi is new to thinking of herself as she, which can read as a trans girl having baby’s first gender euphoria - and honestly, I kept it vague because it doesn’t really hurt anyone if they get to have that reading. But honestly, I was imagining that the Krynn don’t really have the concept of childhood gender. Rather, it’s more expected that the children may eventually figure out their gender and let other people know.
A lot of Xandi’s previous doubts about her gender have a lot to do with the fact that everyone else that’s important in her life - her two best friends and her mom, are all female (though Reisa’s femininity and Tsaris’s femininity are pretty different from each other).
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I wrote a post a few weeks ago about ways your muse could've met one of mine before the game BUT I have no idea where it went so we'll make a new, more organized post.
Tadpoled
Briza Jaelre
If you're a surface drow, it would be easier to have met her prior. She's the oldest child of the Jaelre family of her generation and has some good political standing due to that.
Also if your muse has been around the forest of Cormanthor, where the exiled House Jaelre has set up their home, your muse may have run into her while she's been patrolling. Or even have done trade with her house if your muse is from that area.
Also I could see some parties or something happening where it's forging alliances with the surfacers and showing the house Jaelre isn't as cutthroat as the Lolth sworn drow. (But they aren't afraid to get their hands messy.)
Durante Faust
He's been an apprentice to a sculptor since he was a teenager. He easily could've tagged along when his master was doing a commission.
Then there's also the fact he'd also eventually start getting his own commissions, especially because he does have an almost unnatural skill in his work. (It is really life like, and no not due to magic, just talent.)
He is the most likely person your muse could've had a random one night stand with at one point. So there's also fun in that. Or he could have wooed and ran, that is also a possibility.
Frits Farehill
He is 35 and attended Blackstaff; he could easily be someone's former classmate/peer.
I accidentally made him really good as a possibly bg person for Ga.le just because his parents also own a flower shop in Waterdeep and the prior bullet point.
Frits has 11 siblings so maybe your muse may know him through a sibling
Frits does a lot of traveling for his research with his partner, so it's very easy to have crossed paths with him before, even just for a short while.
Gwenifar van Hol
Gwenifar's been around with her duties as a cleric. From dealing with plagues and illnesses to helping tend to people in battle. She's quite adept at her healing and making healing potions and salves, so she's been requested to travel to quite a few places in Faerun.
Beyond that, in recent years, she's helped raise funds for the Open Hand Temple by attending various get togethers of the well-to-do, having gained a bit of charisma as she's gotten older. So she does often interact with Baldur's Gate's elite, as well as tend to those in need in the city.
Talilah Bluethorn
She has traveled all around Faerun, helping her mother steal from the rich and give to the poor. She's also been on a few adventures besides that, so there's some options there.
Your muse, if they're a high elf from Evereska, might even not know her but know her father, who she has a strong resemblance to. Which could be fun.
Also if your muse is rich, maybe she and her fellows stole from them that'd be a great dynamic.
Tavinkas
He's a durge so like. He's traveled around Faerun but to kill people. What if he killed someone your muse cared about. what if.
Also other cultists and that who would work with Bhaalists, that's another way to have met him prior to the game.
Camp Followers
Anatol Byron
Look, this guy has been looking to create a heroic name for himself, being the third son of a noble family. He feels it's his destiny to do something heroic, he's got a good heart but uh. Sometimes not so bright.
Also as being the third son of a noble family, there are options of arranged marriage plots, meeting at revelries, or other type settings.
Kyrirthlila Bluethorn
Like with her daughter, she's been stealing from well-to-do for about 250 years. So that's a way to have met her prior. Also has had her own adventures and that, so that's something to consider too.
Background
Aella Dekarios
You might know her if your muse is from Waterdeep. She's part of a traveling minstrel group and they tour all around Faerun too. She's had her adventure here and there.
Also you're more than welcome to want to be her wife with two kids, I left it vague just in case anyone wants to be Ga.le's in-law.
Arakhivaen Saliriador
One of the harder muses. His mother is on the royal council of Evermeet, and he's a guard in Evereska. But if your muse is a high elf noble, then that would be the easiest way to have met him before, considering there's The Retreat that happened and it's only in recent years high elves are coming back to the mainland.
If you do have an older muse, though, Arakhivaen might have had more to do with interacting with wider Faerun before The Retreat (about 150 ish years ago).
Arzan Ancunin
He's a second gen, so there's no meeting him prior to the game, unless there's some wild time travel set up. But there's still options to pre-establish a relationship for interactions. Considering he's a dhampir looking for a cure for vampirism for his father, something beyond the options available that can do a mass cure. OR you go the ascended route and he's trying to stop his father.
Chiela Ancunin
Another difficult one due to The Retreat, but she was around Baldur's Gate prior to it. Tended to her brother's grave and all that. Not to mention I hc their parents were very much ladder climbing lower noble/upper middle class, so there's something to play with as well.
Obviously wildly easier if your muse is a high elf who can go to Evereska/Evermeet.
Ingeleif Maerklos
Went to Blackstaff, is 36. 100% is an arrogant piece of work.
if your muse is from Waterdeep, they should know the Maerklos family. As a noble, he's probably had his interactions at parties and get togethers. Maybe even arranged marriage discussions before he became a Chosen of Mystra.
As a Chosen of Mystra, he has had to go in search of ways to strengthen the Weave after the events in recent history. So your muse could've met him on a quest.
Klaudius Sarrick
He's a wealthy man leading a double life in Baldur's Gate. He's very used to interacting with high society in balls and that sort of thing.
But also other cultists who would work with a Loviat.an.
Perun Dekarios
He works as adventurer; probably if your muse is an adventurer, could've met him. Also he's very social and very charming, easily could've charmed his way into a well-to-do party (although the Dekarios family is a decently well off clan in my opinion.)
Also left his wife and three kids vague in case anyone wants to be Ga.le's in-law
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au cours de l’été - jjh
⤑ translation: over the summer
⤑ summary: this is a story of an exhausted painter who needed a breather from the hectic city life. so aside from moving to the countryside, the needed air in your lungs also came in the form of a person. this summer meant for pure relaxation, perhaps your heart may dive into him too.
⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader
⤑ word count: 15.2k (so much for saying that i’ll be writing shorter stories)
⤑ genre: fluff, romance, smut | author!jaehyun, painter!reader, strangers to lovers!au, 50s-60s!au, summer love in france!au
⤑ warnings: me inserting some french phrases because I want to practice (feel free to correct me if I made mistakes, i’ll appreciate them), fictional interpretations of real-life people, explicit language, jaehyun being such a romantic pls im in tears, mentions and scenes of burnout (the worst)
⤑ playlist: everybody loves somebody by dean martin | c’est si bon by eartha kitt | it’s always you by chet baker | les yeux ouverts by emilie-claire barlow | a sunday kind of love by etta james | the most beautiful thing by bruno major | try again by jaehyun and d.ear (duh) | free love (dream edit) by honne | petite fleur by jill barber | plus je t’embrasse by blossom dearie | so this is love by ilene woods and mike douglas
⤑ author’s note: this was an idea that just came to me after pinterest kept recommending me poetic beauty/try again jaehyun, so here we are! i intended to write less than 5k words but sometimes plans don’t go as planned once you really invest in the story yet i’m really happy how this turned out!
the romantic exhilaration in my bones are off the charts because this is jaehyun we’re talking about lol enjoy!
⤑ masterlist
⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!
3 juin 1957
The city life overstimulated your entire system, losing your brainpower and inspiration. Another exhibition that’ll feature your works with other influential painters was happening at the end of the year, and you had nothing prepared so far. You’ve crashed to the deep end of creative fatigue.
So you needed to get away again; somewhere quieter and surrounded by nature.
That’s why you ended up in the countryside down south, somewhere within Provence. It’s purely just for the summer, but extensions were okay as long you get back at least a month before the show. Filing that leave of absence at the studio you worked at was worth it.
You rented an apartment overlooking the marketplace, where the heart of the village was. After arranging things from your boxes and luggage the entire day, you found out that you lacked in the food department.
So the succeeding day, the entire morning was spent on grocery shopping downstairs then stocking them inside your refrigerator, freezer, and pantry. Right after changing out of your pajamas into a flowy floral dress and sandals, you decided to bike to the bakery that locals suggested. A must-go place for newcomers, they all raved.
“Café des Étoiles Perdues.” (Café of Lost Stars.)
The clear chimes of the bell resounded through the small, cottage-like lobby as you entered inside. An old woman, whom you assumed was the owner, welcomed you openly.
“Oh la la, vous êtes belle! Vous vous appelez (Y/N), la nouvelle venue, n'est-ce pas?” (Oh la la, you’re beautiful. Your name is (Y/N), the newcomer, right?)
She complimented, making you shyly mutter your answer. Wiping off the flour from her apron, she introduced herself kindly.
“Je m’appelle Camille. Mes spécialités sont les macarons pisctaches et des croissants avec des amandes. Autre chose que tu aimes?” (I’m Camille. My specialties are the pistachio macarons and croissants with almonds. Is there anything else you like?)
“J'aime tout ce que vous suggères, Madame.” (I’d like anything that you suggest, Madame.)
A younger man, who went by Jaemin, was a part-timer barista who asked for your coffee order. As he directed you to the best seat of the café, which was outside overlooking the garden of blooming sunflowers, you pulled out your sketch pad so you could capture this dreamy view. It was nothing like you’ve ever seen in your life.
You’ve decided on a theme already for your exhibit thanks to your conversations with locals yesterday, which was related to freedom. After being chained to cities for so-called better living and financial standards, it’s actually how your inspiration to create squeezed the life out of you like a lemon. Although it was fun at first to see those tourist spots, it eventually got tiring.
Another matchstick to graze intensity through your bones was what you prayed for.
While you’re engaged in a rough sketch of the scenery, the dandy presence of a young man entered the café with his books. White shirt, red trousers with a matching beret, he sported freckles on his pale face. Despite visiting his favorite café numerously, Camille was overjoyed to see him and his serene smiles.
“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”
“Bonjour, Madame! I’m starving for your croissants because I ran out back home.”
“Not to worry! I’ll pack up some so you’re on your way.” She lightened him up like one of her kids, taking one of the bigger paper bags.
“No rush though, Madame. I’ll be reading and working here for a bit here.” Jaehyun affirmed, bringing it out his wallet and called out for Jaemin.
“Un café crème, s’il vous plait.” (One cup of cappuccino, please.)
Jaehyun’s usual chair was by the large window, overseeing the wide garden planted by the citizens of the village way before he was born. It was places like this he missed after moving to the city for his education and work’s sake.
That’s the thing when you’re coming from a rich family; you don’t have much of say with what your parents order you to do. However, his recent request to stay in his childhood home (or mansion) again was fulfilled because he couldn’t search for what he needed in the cities anymore.
Jaehyun was a sucker for romance; an old romantic others would say. A lot of women mistook his kindness as flirting on many occasions, but ironically he just wasn’t looking for anyone yet.
Starting as a novelist in the said genre based on real-life stories of people he met in Paris, Barcelona, London, and more, his stories were popular hits especially to young adults who aspire to find love one day.
However, traveling to the known places no longer felt fun as he got older. The stories he gathered were very similar, just in different languages. It took an enthusiastic dinner with his family, specifically his only older sister Krystal retelling fond stories from their younger years to get the idea of moving back for a bit. So consumed with the city life, he wanted to see things from another perspective.
What was the difference between a love story formed in the countryside than in the city?
It’s been a month since he arrived, but he didn’t hurry himself to do his research. He’s been reading books in his family library, revisiting monumental places, exploring around the village, and reconnecting with old friends as if he never left.
Readjusting to his former life would make writing easier when he’s motivated enough to do it again. Besides, his books were profiting well enough to his taste; good enough for the next 10 years according to his personal accountant, Kim Jungwoo.
Jaehyun resumed reading this book his mother recommended him before he left. Entitled “Réessaye”, which was about a young man who reunites with his childhood sweetheart after his arranged marriage failed. After what she put her through, he’s hesitant whether to try again or let her go.
Jaehyun enjoyed reading books with realistic outlooks on love because he found them more meaningful, enlightening how exactly it makes you feel and do. Even if he enjoyed reading sappy, fairytale-like stories from time to time, he always returned to the real ones as they only displayed the truth.
That love isn’t always rainbows and sunshine, but something that can also break you especially if you go after the wrong person. This kind of mindset was how he toiled on his stories, which gained him a status outside of his unavoidable labels such as “the only striking son of the Jeong family” or “Valentine Boy”.
He diligently browsed through the climax, where the main male character confessed all his constrained emotions to his sweetheart. But it was until Jaemin pressed the bag of croissants in front of his face after placing down his childhood friend’s drink to disturb his peace.
“Reading again?” He taunted, snatching his book away and throwing the bag on Jaehyun’s lap. “When are you writing that book already? Everyone is practically dying for you to release something new again!”
Jaehyun flatly shook his head, drinking his coffee quietly. It’s not the first time anyone asked (or pressured) him about his next release, and it’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “Not in the mood right now, Jaemin. Now off to work before Madame Camille scolds you again.”
“You’re just stalling because you have nothing to write, don’t you?” Jaemin cunningly expressed, raising a brow. He’s known to catch onto the people’s bs easily; the last person you’d want to say your secrets too and Jaehyun realized too late. Though lucky for him, Jaemin shut the topic down right away so he wouldn’t pop a vein.
“Sais-tu de la nouvelle venue dans le village, d'ailleurs?” (Do you know about the newcomer in the village, by the way?)
“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)
Being stuck at his mansion recently, news about village affairs were now late to him. Jaemin’s finger discreetly pointed outside the window, pertaining to a young woman sat outside painting her view in front of her.
That would be you, shading all the flowers in bright colors.
Seeing a new face amazed Jaehyun, especially when she was almost someone right out of a book. In a neat bun with white daisies printed in her dress, she crossed her legs whilst continuing her movements. She bit her lower lip, frustrated over an accidental smudge she made and trying to fix it by blending it with another color. When she accomplished it, she swapped brushes. A thinner one, to outline the shapes of the flower. Her lips curved to a smile after finishing another one perfectly with the rest.
“Jaehyun?”
Jaemin snapped his fingers to his distracted friend, zoning out the window. Still something he hasn’t stop doing, he pondered. With a final snap, Jaehyun broke away from falling hard from his abstract. Jaemin calculated the problem so quickly, analyzing his friend breezily like his medical school requirements.
“Elle est splendide, n'est-ce pas?” (She’s gorgeous, right?)
“Elle ressemble à une personne décente.” (She looks like a decent person.)
Jaehyun pushed it aside, flipping back to the page where he stopped reading. Before Jaemin responded, the door chimed open again to alarm him that a new customer came in. He excused himself to his friend, warning him that this wasn’t the last time he’ll talk about the newcomer too.
Jaehyun nodded along, not taking his friend’s cheeky words so seriously. However, the final result you attempted to create tickled his curiosity, so he slyly peeked from his book to the window.
You’ve freed your hair down, victorious to have started your collection this early in your break. A fantastic start, you let the paint dry first and munch on the croissant that served as your reward. However, you ‘re quick to notice a manly figure glancing through the window. From the side, his brown eyes appeared lively even if his entire face was hidden by the book.
Réessaye by Mark Lee; he must be a romantic. Every person in your studio read it, excluding yourself. Painfully beautiful, they’d summarize it.
Daring to meet more people, you locked eye contact with him. He didn’t expect it, almost flipping from his chair. Bashfully, you waved him a hello to somewhat break the ice. However, it broke his composure, and suddenly, he scurried off with his things from the café.
Now, you got quite worried. You checked your tiny mirror if he saw anything unpleasant with you, but you’d say you look relatively fine. Oh, maybe you could redeem yourself the next time you saw him. After bidding goodbye to Camille and Jaemin, the latter chased after you when you prepared yourself on your bike.
“By any chance, did you say hi to a guy with brown eyes and a red beret?”
“Well, more like I waved at him, then he zoomed out. Did I do something wrong?” You questioned with concern, putting your hands on the handles.
“That’s my friend, who’s quite reserved with strangers. I’m sorry on his behalf.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” You brushed it off politely. “See you again soon, Jaemin!”
Peddling away, letting the cool breeze fan you, your mind reverted its thoughts to that strange man. Maybe you’ll give it some time; you had a lot of it.
“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”
12 juin 1957
The world must really be on your side with these good decisions because you crossed paths with the strange man again in the café a week later. But instead of running away, he asked nicely if he could sit across your free chair in front of your table outside. It was a Saturday, and the place was packed.
“Joignez-moi, s’il vous plait.” (Join me, please.)
You insisted, giving yourself time to subtly observe his physique a lot more. Freckles dotted under his eyes like a constellation, bushy eyebrows, pink cheeks to match his pale complexion, and wearing a fuzzy knit sweater that meshed well with his green beret. He had some sort of necklace too; there was a heart pendant.
“Vous êtes une artiste.” (You’re an artist.) The small wooden palette of paint beside your small sketch pad was exposed, finding it as a great icebreaker.
“Une peintre, spécifiquement. Franchement, les visuels ici sont trés captivants qu'à Paris.” (A painter, to be specific. Frankly, the visuals here are more captivating than in Paris.)
“Je suis d’accord,” (I agree,) Jaehyun leaned against his chair, taking a better look at you with the remaining light from the descending sun.
“Oh, vous êtes comme moi. J’habite à Paris aussi.” (Oh, you’re like me. I live in Paris too.)
“Bon, je suis née à Londres. Puis, j’ai déménagé où je voulais en Europe depuis j'avais 18 ans. Mais oui, j’habite définitivement à Paris maintenant.” (Well, I was born in London then moved wherever I wanted in Europe for inspiration since I was 18. But yes, I live permanently in Paris now.)
You clarified, beginning to enjoy his comforting company. Initiating conversations with people you’re not acquainted with wasn’t in your range of skills, though he didn’t have an intimidating vibe. He looked too youthful to act like that.
“Je m’appelle (Y/N), d'ailleurs.” (I’m (Y/N), by the way.) You stuck out your hand as a sign of respect, which he enthusiastically obliged.
“Salut, (Y/N). Je m’appelle Jaehyun.” [Hi, (Y/N). I’m Jaehyun.]
He kissed it in a gentleman fashion, applying the manners he’s been taught since he was a child. Should you have been flustered, but no. It’s been a long time since anyone greeted you like that, specifically back home.
Throughout your talk, you learned more about who he was, his job, and what his life in the countryside is like. He was an author of romance novels, yet you’ve never heard about him prior. Heavily prioritizing your work, you don’t keep up with the new releases or trends at all. Though after mentioning his last name, it piqued your interest.
“Jeong? As in the business, Jeong Tea Inc.?”
“Correct.”
His family was one of the most affluent families in Parisian society. Old money immigrants from South Korea, they brought their tea business to France and it boomed successfully. You’re quite sure you’ve seen his parents in past exhibits, but never did you approach them because you were a rookie then. But he reassured you that it was fine, and to just treat him like you’d treat your friends. Plus, it came to your knowledge that he was the same age as you too.
He opened up how this village was where he lived his childhood, so he asked his parents if he could hand over their mansion for a while for rest. It then shocked both of you at how identical your reasons were for staying in the countryside.
“I’m burnt out from the city, so I’m trying to regain my spirit here hopefully. Besides, I needed a change of scenery after living there for 3 years. My longest stay yet outside of London!”
“I need new ideas for my books. The cities don’t charm me anymore, so I returned here for peace and quiet. Maybe let these ideas come to me rather than me going after them.”
From a bigger lens, people would conclude your interaction as a sight of two artists who passionately talk about their art. But to you, you’d interpret it as two relaxed, young adults in their twenties who simply wanted to run away from the pressures of their art and enjoy the summer as every young adult should.
Not cooped up in the studio or office, but innocently waltzing around with your youth while it’s still there.
début de juillet 1957
“Dépêche-toi, (Y/N)!” [Hurry up, (Y/N)!]
Jaehyun yelled at your open balcony from downstairs, parking his mini car beside your bike. He planned on taking you somewhere a little farther this time; to absolutely feel like one of the locals.
The countryside urged you to wear more dresses and flat shoes, so you took out a turquoise dress with a white scarf to wrap on top of your head. Like your relaxed fit, your mindset too was calm. Upon meeting him, he wore his round spectacles with a red knit sweater over a white turtleneck long-sleeved top. His fingers were adorned with silver rings, then around his neck was a thin black ribbon. He curled some of his hair again, a style you really liked of his.
You can’t lie, but this man could pull any trend or style and still look extra pretty.
Out of all the locals you’ve befriended in your stay, Jaehyun was always your companion. He took you to varying places that those locals don’t visit nor tourists acknowledge in their reviews for the past few weeks. For someone who hasn’t been in the village for a long time, his memory didn’t disappoint. His childhood was only filled with cheerful moments.
Today, he was taking you to a peaceful district of shops in the farther part of the village. It’s where he’d buy sweets, journals, and accessories with his mother, Krystal, and one of his housemaids every other weekend.
All the stores there were currently bombarded with blooming flowers along their alley, bringing more enticement to those who were roaming around. There was so much life here; the head waiter of one restaurant smiling at every passing customer, one florist handing a free flower to anyone who asks, and a young lady showcasing her jewelry collection to a bunch of women who looked like tourists.
“Cette librairie vendent des livres enveloppés dans du papier. Ma mère m'a offerte l'un d'eux pour mon anniversaire tous les ans comme une surprise.” (This bookstore sells books wrapped in paper. My mother gifted me one of them on my birthday every year as a surprise.)
He trained his attention at a rustic shop with open wooden windows giving a glimpse of their shelves.
“Avez-vous fini les lisant?” (Have you finished reading them?)
“Du début à la fin.” (From cover to cover.)
He took you to this rooftop restaurant overlooking the entire plaza. Since he didn’t arrange a reservation yet didn’t get rejected, he must know the owner. Especially how a lot of the staff gave casual hellos and high fives.
Speaking of the owner, he walked out of his kitchen to introduce himself to you. He went by the name Moon Taeil, another one of Jaehyun’s childhood friends whom he used to play at his house whenever his parents came along.
Gobbling up in the appetizing food Taeil prepared beforehand, Jaehyun brought up your painting exhibition again. He loved hearing artists talk about their works, wanting to know more about their driven mindset and what their imagination is like. After all, it does vary for everyone.
“So far,” You poked your fork through the chicken, taking a bite of it. “I’ve produced 3 paintings. The garden of flowers outside Café des Étoiles Perdues, the kids playing hopscotch in the alley, and the peach tree outside your house.”
“Woah, you’re on a roll.” Jaehyun clapped across you, pouring you another glass of water. He recalled the nights you ranted not having any clue what to do for the exhibit. Then after taking you to more places, he’s rewarded to see you be creatively active again. “How many artworks do you left to make?”
“Around 3-4 left. I have ideas already, but I’m still brainstorming.” You internally rejoiced, loving how much progress you’ve made. “How about you, Jaehyun? How’s your progress?”
Unlike you, Jaehyun still felt stuck. Although he did find couples around the village, none of them intrigued him as much as his past stories. But he won’t give up easily; that’s not in his work ethic.
“Still searching, but I’ll get there.”
Recently, you got ahold of some of Jaehyun’s books from him personally since they weren’t sold in the village. You wanted to understand how he became so well known outside the labels people put him under. Reading his first novel entitled “Des Papillons” (Butterflies), it was about a couple separated during World War II without contact or knowledge about their well-being. Yet whenever they saw butterflies on the day they parted, they took it as a sign that the other was alive wherever they were.
You’re always hanging on the cliff when the scenes revert back and forth to the main male lead getting stuck in intense war scenarios, rooting for him to get out alive each time. In the end, it took 7 years before they were reunited and wed.
Jaehyun had a wonderful way with his words and descriptions, managing to enwrap you in as if you’re also a character in the book. Like how you rooted for that male lead, you’re rooting for him to find his spark again.
Following this uplifting conversation, Jaehyun finally took to your greatly anticipated spot. It was the main viewpoint of Gordes, one of the most beautiful hilltop villages in the country. The sunset was about to hit, and the lights from the city across you slowly turned on like a bunch of dominos.
As you marveled at its aesthetics, Jaehyun leaned against the hood of his car. He sensed how in awe you were, more than you ever were in the city he assumed. So used to the city that being surrounded with nature became foreign to you.
He took out his polaroid camera from his trunk and captured a photo of you from behind. The shutter sounds were obvious, turning your back at the commotion. Jaehyun fanned the freshly printed photo to dry, giving a mischievous smile.
“What can I say? While you’re fawning over the view, mine was more enamoring.”
Although Jaehyun felt overwhelmed the first time he locked eyes with you, he can’t resist the power of his developing feelings for you. The more time he took you around, the more his heart found different details about you to admire. After listening to all those love stories in the past, the people he spoke to shared how there will be some distinct moment where your heart decides who they’re longing for.
That exact view of you by the cliff, he already knew.
He’s infatuated by you.
“Tu es très ringard, Jaehyun.” (You’re so cheesy, Jaehyun.) You scoffed sassily, with a hand on your waist.
“Un gentleman ne ment jamais, (Y/N). Allez, il fait nuit maintenant.” [A gentleman never lies, (Y/N). Come on, it’s night already.]
He cleverly responded, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. The trip back to the village was energizing, putting down the roof of his car to relish the chill breeze of the night weather. You even raised your arms in the air, losing your scarf even from the speed Jaehyun went at!
The two of you belted along to the songs on the radio when the fields were the only ones surrounding you, no neighbors to shout at your rambunctiousness.
The late-night hours drew by so quickly almost like dinner with more of Jaehyun’s friends didn’t happen. Arriving at the front doors of your apartment complex, Jaehyun raced over to your side to open your door. Always maintained proper observation of manners, you appreciated that side of him. Rarely anyone in Paris that you’ve encountered treated you that way because you were a foreigner.
“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]
“Bonsoir, Jaehyun. Quand est-ce que je te revois?” (Goodnight, Jaehyun. When can I see you again?)
“Demain et après-demain. Appelle-moi quand tu es libre.” (Tomorrow, and the day after that. Just give me a call when you’re free.)
With a short wave, you entered your building and marched up to the stairs. A good day only meant being tired to the core, ready to crash and fall in your soft bed. Opening your wide windows to let more of the cool breeze in, your eyes easily caught Jaehyun’s classy car still there. As for the owner, he didn’t move an inch from his leaning position.
“Rentre à la maison, Jaehyun! C’est tard!” (Go home, Jaehyun! It’s late!) You shrieked, peeking side to side to make sure none of the neighbors scold you.
Jaehyun laughed wholeheartedly, not budging at all. “La nuit ne fait que commencer, ma chérie.” (The night has just begun, my darling.)
“Comment tu m'as appelé?” (What did you call me?)
Either your ears were fooling you or he addressed you by a divine pet name. The gasp you swallowed, as your entire body tingled with exhilaration. Your mind would simply disregard it like his former teasing words, but your heart begged to differ.
Rather than responding with words, Jaehyun’s voice serenaded you with a wondrous song, C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt, that played on the radio earlier. Out of the blue, a random guitar accompaniment followed his baritone vocals.
“En voyant notre mine ravie,”
Against the railing of your wired balcony, your body shifted forward to watch him better.
“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”
Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.
“C'est si bon de guetter dans ses yeux,”
It was like a lullaby, and here you were drowning in its peacefulness. Sensing the passion he gives off in his singing, your heart couldn’t refrain the strings inside from being swayed and tugged.
This was your moment of realization: that you too were smitten.
“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”
À la mi-juillet de 1957
“Hello, nature!” You greeted brightly as your legs raced the huge garden in his manor. It was the first time he invited you over, too lazy to go out of the city. His social battery needed a recharge for the weekend, so a picnic within his home would do the trick. Additionally, it was an excuse to bring you over after the numerous times you’ve begged him to.
Jaehyun merely shook his head, enjoying the rush of childlike fun in your veins while you squealed and grazed your hands through the flowers.
He carried a wooden basket full of treats his family maids cooked, taking his time to venture through the rows of flowers. They were growing healthily and phenomenally these days, sometimes riding his bike to personally water them since he became busy with writing again. Lately, he found inspiration again, and so he wrote day and night to set them free.
“Voila!” You yanked out a sunflower, sniffing it a little. “Come on, Jaehyun! Pick up a few for our lunch!”
He followed your order, picking out some he found ideal. But just for fun, he put down the basket and carried you from behind out of the blue. You tried kicking him away, but his muscular arms can’t compete with your soft ones.
“What are you doing?”
“You said to pick up a flower, so I did. The prettiest of them all.”
His flirtatious words were never serious, yet you took it as a compliment. That’s how high your confidence is. Only we define our own worth, not others. The two of you chatted more about your lives until the first rain of the season poured down, chilling down from the raging heat. None of you had an umbrella; the weather was too unpredictable.
Deciding to just run for it, he gave you the wooden basket to protect yourself whilst he used the blanket you’ve sat on. Running with laughter to return to his mansion in the muddy dirt, the cool drops shivered your figure yet felt fantastic.
If you were in the city, you’d panic because it’d mess your appearance and your boss would be infuriated by your unprofessionalism. But in the countryside, it didn’t matter at all. The condition of the rain wasn’t budging to improve, getting stronger by the minute. His entire house even lost power, his housemaids having to bring candles to his bedroom and your assigned one once night dawned.
It was hopeless to return home for you, plus it’s dangerous to drive in in the dark, narrow streets too. Jaehyun handed you some of his fresh clothes so you’d be free from flinching from cold dress sticking to your body.
“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”
Nodding, you excused yourself to find the bathroom. You’d assume it’d be easy, but this was your first time in his house; a mansion even. Doors from left to right, long corridors that seemed never-ending, no maids were within the vicinity whom you can ask for guidance.
Resorting to return to Jaehyun’s chamber for help, you were taken aback by what your eyes laid on. In front of his full mirror, he discarded his now-dried shirt. Even with the dim lighting, you could make out that he was fit by the transparent view of his abdomen. Peeping like this was wrong, yet you couldn’t turn away just yet. The heat in your cheeks was inevitable, finding composure in such an unholy sight.
Though a gear in you suddenly twisted; a gear that straightened your nerves. You’re taking a bold move on the chessboard of your feelings. Wholly opening his bedroom door again, you leisurely sauntered inside without warning.
“Oh, (Y/N)! Ne peux pas trouver la salle de bain?” (Oh, (Y/N)! Can’t find the bathroom?)
Unbothered as he stood shirtless, you on the other hand silently dropped his clothes on the floor. Holding intense eye contact, your fingers graciously unzipped the side of your dress. Inch by inch, the tension built up like the strong tiny flames lit on the candles around you two. Joining the pile of clothes, all that remained were your white lace undergarments. Unplanned for the get-go, it’s the ideal set for your earlier outfit at the picnic.
“Je me suis perdue, mais je pense avoir trouvé quelque chose de mieux.” (I got lost, but I think I found something better.)
Your fingers grazed your arm up to your collarbones, faking your naivety. From your lust-filled stare, the glint in Jaehyun’s eyes darkened. He gulped at the revealing sight of you, brushing his hair back to restrain himself.
None of you could utter a single word, only the vivacious rain being the only sounds ringing around you. Thus, you allowed your actions to pursue precisely what you desired to do.
Taking baby steps towards him to test the waters, he met you right in the center and closed the leftover space. His hands cradled your face, whilst yours clung to his chest. His lips tasted like red wine, watching him pour in a glass for himself earlier. He did offer, yet you declined.
Your tongue darted his lower lip, gaining access after. Sensing the edge of his bed, you plopped yourself down the cushion. His knee urged your legs to widen, letting his body slide in. From your face, his fingers lowered to the back of your bra, snapping the clasps open.
“It takes skill to accomplish that in one try, Jaehyun.”
“I lived in Paris too, ma chérie. You out of all people would understand and have the experience.”
His palms massaged your freed breasts, throwing your head back even more to his pillows as his lips ravaged down from your stomach until the fabric of your not-so pure panties.
“Call me that again, please.”
“Ma chérie, seras-tu mienne?” (My darling, will you be mine?) He kissed and licked the tiny ribbon in front repeatedly, where your now-swollen clit laid. It electrified your bones, pulling on to his ruffled hair.
“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)
Sex in the form of one-night stands were all you’ve invested; upcoming artists like you weren’t capable to maintain long-term relationships. Les plans à trois even if you’re extra freaky or drunk from the afterparties of your events. All that these occurrences had in common were not seeing those men ever again after sneaking out of their apartments in the morning.
This time, it’s different.
When they said that doing the deed with someone you’re romantically entangled with was more special, they didn’t bluff. You could plan bits of your life, but it can sometimes change aspects of it when you least expect it. Sometimes for the best or the worst, but right now, it went beyond your expectations.
It’s rewarding that the man you’ve slowly fallen for within your stay returned your affections.
Around late 3 am that night, your brain jolted with artistic ideas that awoken your sonorous rest. There are no hopes of sleeping them off because they tend to bother you for hours until you do something about it. But you’re already so cozy having Jaehyun’s arms around you, skin to skin under the duvet. His lips daunted right above your forehead, recalling his endless kisses there that helped you fall asleep.
Well, these ideas don’t work themselves unless you do. Untangling him tactfully, you stepped out of the blanket and wore one of his long white shirts he gave you earlier before pulling out your sketchpad and palette of oil paints.
Luckily, there was still one available candle to use as the rest have melted indefinitely. You slid the matchstick again to the sand surface, boring a flame from the friction which you placed on top of the wick.
All your ideas that night leaned towards one thing, or person rather: Jaehyun.
You spent a few minutes retracing how he vividly looked at the picnic, leaning back from the chair of his work desk. His outfit of a turquoise turtleneck underneath a white button-top with trousers matching the said turtleneck looked good together, how his ears tingled red after you complimented his newfound inspiration for his book, and the prominent veins in his arms when he rolled his sleeves due to the heat.
The thin brush you held defined the shape of his face, then paying attention to the messy strands of his hair. Stroking in a circular way to outline his eyelids, a hoarse grunt disturbed the peaceful silence.
“Get back in bed, ma chérie.” His eyes drowsily opened, lying on his side. The moment he no longer felt your warmth, he worried something happened. Instead, you’re working late at night after quite a rough yet romantic night.
“Shush,” You shunned him down with your index finger. “Give me a few more minutes.”
“Perhaps, are you painting me?” He hunched from the covers. “Your eyes looking back and forth would never lie to me, would they?”
“Maybe…” You teased, batting your eyes at him without any risky intentions. Or not?
He deeply chuckled, sluggishly removing himself under the covers. In his pure nudity, he advanced himself towards you. You shrieked, covering yourself with your free hand.
“Jaehyun, stay back! I told you I’ll be there soon!”
Not listening, he carried your bridal style, making you drop your precious palette to the fur rug. Laying you carefully, he popped each button open. By the sight of his cock hardening again, you knew you were in for another round with him.
“Wet again, ma chérie? Oh, this will be fun.”
Fin de juillet 1957
So this kind of summer romance concept that everyone fantasized about… it became your present.
Together you’d stroll in the smaller streets and immerse yourselves in the unique culture of the village. Whenever anyone saw you together, holding hands, biking, or what-not, they’d praise in the name of love for bringing you both together. A romance like yours in the countryside was a lively sight.
Remember how extensions were a possibility if your search for inspiration wasn’t found? Well, it’s not a question that you’d make one, except inspiration found you instead. And he had one arm around you as he slow danced with you in the open grounds of the village, listening to the live band covering song classics.
In particular, Chet Baker. He was Jaehyun’s favorite artist at the moment.
There was an ongoing week-long festival dedicated to summer, giving more plants their bloom and spreading gratitude to the hardworking people. Especially the students, off on their break.
The faint radiance from the post lights as Jaehyun swayed you around, making you laugh as he tried to mumble the lyrics of the song. All those glasses of wine he tried earlier with you from the bartender offering it for free had its effects, and you weren’t off the hook from them either.
Blisters started to form from your ankles, adjusting to the new pair of heels Jaehyun gave (or insisted to buy) you a while ago after staring at them like lasers. You’ve always provided things for yourself that being spoiled by someone else felt weird to you.
“If there’s anything you want me to buy for you, just tell me.”
“How can I buy you if you’re already mine?”
His smooth talk often made you punch his shoulder, but it’s just a mechanism to hide the exhilaration.
Under each other’s spells in your dance, you laid your head on Jaehyun’s chest. Feeling the strong beat of his heart, you were reminded of how much life he’s filled with. And you became a part of it, in the same way he crossed yours.
Jaehyun’s lips sank to the top of your head, pecking it affectionately. The first-ever summer where he wasn’t stuck at his desk working or drinking his life away with his rich friends in their Parisian homes, it couldn’t get better than this.
“Oiii! Flirtez ailleurs!” (Oiii! Flirt somewhere else!) The distinct voice of Jaemin, handing out pastries to passersby, shouted at the both of you, making you flip your middle finger at him.
“Trouve une copine d’abord, d’accord?!” (Find a girlfriend first, alright?!) You shouted back jokingly, almost falling due to the ache of your feet. Your immodest behavior was censored by Jaehyun’s large palms, not wanting the kids around to see it. Whispering closely to your ear,
“Tu es ivre. Laisse-moi te ramener chez toi.” (You’re drunk. Let me take you home.)
You changed back into your sandals as Jaehyun led you through the different alleys. Your vision was too hazy to navigate, so he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders. The weather grew cold too, shivering your bones so he draped you in his blazer.
“Wait,” You stopped, making him do the same. But before he could ask for your reason, your hands yanked him by his suspenders and your legs walked backward to reach the brick wall. Standing in his 5’11 glory, you were overpowered.
Yet your lips captured his effortlessly, raising to your toes to press yourself closer to him. He moved fast, one arm hugging your waist while the other hoisted your leg up. Tangling around his waist, the urge to move your hips against his crotch couldn’t be contained any longer.
Everyone was probably still out at this time or sleeping. The sloppy sounds you’ve produced were beyond suitable for any audience. Not to mention, the nasty words Jaehyun’s pretty mouth spoke in your ears desired you to fall to your knees.
“Not afraid of getting caught, ma chérie? You want me to ruin you right here, right now?”
“God, Jaehyun,” Your hands tugged his belt forward, the friction it gave to your core twitched the naughty side out of you. “Do it, please.”
The idea of public sex thrilled your mind into overdrive, yet you’ve never done it. In Paris, a city where several people started to know your name, you didn’t need a scandal to be plastered in your resume yet.
Jaehyun himself included, and still opted not to give it to you.
“Another time, ma chérie. Your apartment, now.”
The moment you unlocked your apartment door, Jaehyun was far from gentle like in the mansion. Ripping you out of your frilly dress didn’t take long, so was unbuttoning his trousers down to the floor.
On your knees, his hand gave you a makeshift ponytail as your tongue flicked the slit of his cock. Then slowly taking him inch by inch on your mouth, you’d let out a loud pop when you needed to breathe. Your hands fondling his balls, he groaned from the edge of your bed and tightened his hold on you. Tears formulated in your eyes as you got to swallow him whole, uncontrollably bobbing your head.
He felt like putty when he released, your throat taking the salty base. You hastily unhooked your bra in front of him when suddenly, his hand flicked on the fabric of your panties, cueing you to stop your motion.
“Keep them on when you ride me.”
Straddling on his lap, his head laid against the headboard of his bed. His arms roaming around your back to stabilize you, your fingers pushed your panties to the side as you pushed yourself down his protected length. Your moans became shaky. Up and down, you bounced while bracing on his shoulders.
Against his ear, your moans were harmonious. His hips moved against your beat, hitting your g-spot like the sexual ace he is. His thumb rubbing your clit, you shuttered your eyes at the impending high approaching you like a bus.
“I’m close.” You choked out, the overstimulation overwhelming your nerves.
“Fuck, me too.” He grunted, slapping your butt that made you shriek.
Soon enough, everything hit you both all at once. The knot snapped, and so did your body falling on his chest after a single scream. Panting, Jaehyun pecked on your temple as his cock softened up. Once you returned to your senses, you lifted yourself from his length, laying bare beside him.
His eyes started to fall, but before they did, he muttered huskily. “Je t’aime, (Y/N).”
It was the first time he’s said those words in the way they meant, and he’s more than certain that it’s what he felt with you. Sure, it started as mutual infatuation, but now, it can’t leave. Not on his watch.
Love was a concept unfamiliar to you, but Jaehyun slowly taught you what it was and how it felt like. Books and films may give sneak peeks, but to personally give and receive it back was made possible by him.
From this moment on, you could conclude that yes, you reciprocated it.
“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”
16 octobre 1957
Autumn made its way to the countryside.
The leaves switched into red-brown shades, the weather in the south was warmer, and the wine harvest was highly anticipated. Jaehyun’s camera was a common item in your outings, taking as many photos as he could so the two of you had something to look back on.
Planned and candid, his range was wide. These were moments that proved that your youth was as happy as you wished it to be. You wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
Painting in his mansion was a regular thing, having new canvases prepared at his patio. There were so many items that amused you there like you could base your entire collection on his home. It’s not like Jaehyun could argue; it meant more time with you whenever you came over.
“Jaehyun, if you smudge paint on me, so help me Go-” He refused to listen to your “threats”, smearing black paint on your cheek.
“You were saying?” He cockily pestered, showcasing his paint-filled fingers. You dipped one of your brushes into the new paint and chased after him without hesitation. The entire evening became a paint war, a laugh fit even after seeing your reflections in the mirror. But before you could clean yourself, Jaehyun’s camera was by your face and he pressed the button.
“Still breathtaking.”
But the middle of the season arrived, that’s where your planned extension you’ve reached its end. The exhibit was next month, getting calls from your boss regarding your return and the paintings you’ll present. You informed her that you already had them mailed to your studio way back, so there’s nothing much to worry about.
All your bags were packed in the private car Jaehyun rented. Here, you’re bidding your goodbyes to every friend you’ve made outside the doors of your apartment complex, saving your last words with Jaehyun.
The night before, he stayed over and helped you pack your last items in luggage bags. He even brought extra clothes for you so you wouldn’t work extra. You’ve talked it out the whole evening through what happens next to ease your worries. In your bed, he opened the wide windows and pulled you under the sheets.
“Write to me.”
“Call me when you’re free, or whenever you feel like it.”
Leaning against the railing of the stairs, watched the sorrow in your face over this parting. He sensed how bittersweet everything was, but he wouldn’t change anything about it. He’s positive that your story won’t end here, not right now.
Sauntering to him, you sighed whilst taking your bag he held the whole time from him. His touch was tighter as the two of you hugged tenderly, nuzzling his head on your shoulder. The scent of his citrus cologne that implanted in your brain felt comforting, despite the uncertainty of everything between you.
You hinted a minty taste from the menthol candies from his home as his lips brushed yours, colliding it timely. He waited when everyone left, relishing these last seconds.
Stepping inside the vehicle, you waved your summer love farewell one more time before the driver hit the pedal. Your eyes couldn’t stray away from looking back, the distance between him and your former apartment widening. Only when he was no longer in the frame, you shifted your focus back in front.
Your fingers fiddled with the charm bracelet he gifted you from the market. It was custom-made by a jeweler who was great friends with his mother in his younger years. There were two pendants chained on it: a paintbrush and the sun.
“A paintbrush to remind you of your passion, and the sun to remind you of the summer we first met.”
The man was like one of his romance books, in human form. He knew how to catch your breath effortlessly.
Your stay, for now, may have concluded, but there was always next summer. And the ones after that. The village felt like a second home, one you can’t neglect like the other places you’ve lived. Then having Jaehyun here, the more reasons to return.
Undoubtedly the best vacation you’ve ever been in your adult years, one that didn’t sacrifice for your art so you could compete with other artists. The weight on your chest poofed into thin air, and you felt ready for what the next steps as a painter were.
Appreciating the greenery you passed by, you peeked over the side mirror of the car only to find Jaehyun quickly biking in your direction.
Now, what was he up to?
You instantly requested the driver to slow down his pace, rolling down the window of the car. Not caring about the strong winds, “You fool, what are you doing?!”
Although he trusted your last words, he had the greed to see your face again. It would be a long time until he’ll see you in person again. So he pedaled as fast he could to still reach you. Oh, the things you do when you’re in love.
“Mon cœur bat la chamade pour toi, (Y/N)!” [My heart beats loudly for you, (Y/N)!]
You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.
“Je reviendrai bientôt, Jaehyun!” (I’ll come back soon, Jaehyun!)
21 octobre 1957
Only your friends at the studio gave you a warm welcome back, receiving comments like “get back to work” from your first encounter with your boss. Popping a champagne glass open after work hours on the rooftop of your studio, they interrogated you with all the questions they could think of.
“So this village in Provence…. was it beautiful as the tourists said?” Ten, who moved from his home in Thailand to Paris at a young age, expressed his curiosity whilst leaning against the railing overlooking the Eiffel Tower.
“Beautiful is an understatement, Ten. I miss it dearly!” You heaved a sigh, twirling your glass.
“So this inspiration you were looking for…” Amélie, your dear friend since your university days, created some tension as she prolonged her last word. Playfulness twinkled in her eyes, crossing her legs. “Was a person involved by any chance?”
For a moment, your throat almost gagged on the sizzling alcohol going down.
“What do you mean?” You acted clueless, pouring your now empty glass with more booze. But the moment Ten gave you the troublesome look coordinating with Amélie, you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. These two were such gossips in and out of the studio.
Ten took the seat across you on the table and leaked all his pent-up information.
“So you know Seo Youngho, the only son of the Seo family. Rich, socialite, a total hotshot… yeah, all that jazz.” He dived in, seeing you nod over knowing that man. Someone in the past you’ve slept with, but that’s another story. “Well, Amelie and I attended one of his parties at his large penthouse. He had his usual crowd there; Kim Doyoung, Lee Taeyong, Nakamoto Yuta, and Lee Minhyung. But fun fact: there’s another member in that friend group who doesn’t go to these kinds of events.”
“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Amélie excitedly took off like the pipelette (chatterbox) she is. “Youngho, who was talking to us for a bit, asked where you’ve run off. Poor him, he must’ve missed you in his bed but anyway! We told him that you went down south somewhere in Provence for a break. Oddly enough, he mentioned how the mentioned member moved back there for the same reason.”
Ten and Amélie gave each other another frisky look, merely to piss you off. So predictable of them.
“Get to the point please!” You screeched.
“Jeong Jaehyun, ever heard of him?” Amélie imitated your tone of voice. “I mean, you should since you made a whole painting of him.”
“H-How,” Speechless, that’s what you were. Ten went on a fit of giggles, signaling the build-up of his intoxication.
“Youngho visited the studio to find a specific painting for his home, and we helped him in choosing. Then when your deliveries of paintings arrived that day and were unwrapped, the look on his face when he saw Jaehyun’s painting was priceless. Things started to add up, especially when he told us that he called up Jaehyun prior, he said that Jaehyun was seeing a girl during his stay there.”
“A young, burnt-out painter from Paris, to be specific.”
They’ve put you on the edge of the cliff, and it was too close to call it a coincidence. Of all things to be revealed, this had to be the first.
“Well, I was waiting for another time to tell you guys about him though.”
Their gasps of joy could give you guys a noise complaint by the neighbors, telling all about your escapades of him and you. During it, the more you missed seeing him daily either on his bike or his car. It was stuck in your routine, but now it’s reverted to your old one.
Could the next summer come any faster?
14 février 1958
Perhaps your newest collection at the Louvre was your most successful one yet.
Entitled “Inspirez, Expirez” (Breathe In, Breathe Out), your sceneries during your stay in the village varied. An old couple slow dancing under the night sky, and the quiet district of shops Jaehyun took you, those were some of your last additions.
A multitude of positive reviews on the newspapers and art magazines came in, commending on taking on a fresher, brighter outlook for a change whilst finding your spark again. As fulfilling it was, what you longed the most was the one responsible for it.
Lately, it’s been tough to contact him. His maids always answered the calls, informing you that he was busy with work or family matters. It’s so rare for him to act like this. Whatever it was, it wasn’t grand or serious hopefully.
Back to your collection, tonight was the last night of it. Just in time for Valentine’s day, where numerous socialite lovers embarked on this event, but you’re more fixated that it was also Jaehyun’s birthday. A boy full of love born on the day dedicated for it, things made more sense. In case, you’ve sent your birthday wishes to him through letter and passing the message to one of his maids. Even on his special day, he hasn’t reached out to you.
But to momentarily forget about that, there was a closing ceremony held for this exhibit with the other artists involved, and it was your turn to give your final remarks. More esteemed socialites and journalists were present, which didn’t halt your nerves the slightest. You were a professional after all, holding pride in your craft as you stood in front of the microphone wearing your new favorite custom-made gown.
There are perks when you have close friends in the fashion industry, specifically Kim “Key” Kibum from the House of Key. After defending him from a disrespectful client when you were picking up a dress for your boss during your internship years, not only did you earn his respect, but an invite to his shows and first claiming of new items from his collections. Dining in expensive restaurants in the metro was a plus, catching up on your lives. Sometimes calling each other out for your sexcapades too.
Speaking of him, he was in the crowd that night, ordering every photographer to take photos of your gorgeous self in one of his dresses. Or in your opinion, bribing some by how he stuffed a few thick stacks of Euro bills down their pockets.
Only one of it ever made. A dark green satin v-neck off-the-shoulder gown, where diamonds adorned your neck and ears and white stilettos kept your perfect balance. Also courtesy of Key.
Because it’s the winter season, he gifted you a limited edition white fur coat every socialite tried getting their hands on. Your hair was styled in a bun, emphasizing your dark tinted lips from this new lipstick Amelie insisted you buy.
Most people would get the first impression that you were one of the socialites, a child from one of the affluent families even. But you were a lot more remarkable than that, having inborn talent in the arts that you specialized over your youth and rising to the top without any parental help.
“Thank you to everyone for their endless support towards the magnificent collections of each artist present. As for mine, I am grateful to rechannel my creative side by taking a break. Rather than romanticizing overworking our bones to the core, there’s nothing wrong with taking a step back from the pressure. Being alive is a blessing, realizing further how our youth won’t stay with us forever. Being away from the boisterous cities, I found relaxation in the countryside of Provence.”
Your lips quirked into a grin as every single memory during that time reeled in your head like a movie. “The beauty of Provence cannot be simply put in words. The muses I’ve encountered were more than lovely, especially the man behind the Poetic Rose. With that, I sincerely thank everyone from my bottom of my heart and I hope to continue to support me in the years to come.”
The applause roared once you stepped down the platform, shaking hands with every esteemed guest with more gratitude as they praised you. These days, socializing with them was a lot easier. You’ve even taken more initiative to greet people first before they do, conversing with them easily about anything.
Key definitely noticed that as you toured him around your section, holding his nth glass of wine for the night.
“You, Madame (Y/N), transformed into a social butterfly.” He nudged your shoulder, smirking once he got a better view of his favorite painting from you. “I guess that’s the thing when you’re in love.”
“I beg your pardon?”
With this free hand, he motioned it up and down at the painting in front of you. “The Poetic Rose is none other than the youngest son of the Jeong family, whom I’ve met through his older sister, Krystal.”
“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know him?!” You stressed, jokingly. Key was elated to capture you in his trap, the changes of your personality too evident in his eyes. Figuring it out that it was love took a while, but being acquainted with Krystal, she’s the one who told him that her younger brother was in love with a painter in Provence. Do the math.
“I’ve met him through his older sister, one of my highly favored clients. He’s not much of a socialite like her, so I don’t really blame you for that.”
Searching for a waiter to refill your wine glasses, a surprise emerged the both of you.
“Madame Krystal, you’re absolutely stunning.” Key complimented her, giving the engaged heiress of Jeong Tea Inc. kisses on the cheek as respect. Her recent engagement to Kim Donghyun, her childhood sweetheart and also the heir of Kim Couture, was the talk of the town.
They arrived at the event together, drawing the attention of everyone in the room earlier. Now, he was speaking to a few influential socialites he made a deal with this week about the art collections present.
“Key, you never fail to look fantastic,” She remarked positively, poking his necktie before placing her undivided attention on you. “So you must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’re beyond bewildering in that gown.”
“Flattered to hear that, Madame Krystal. Such a pleasure to meet you.”
The three of you chatted as if you were the only people there. From art, passion, and love, pride filled in your chest when you toured your collection. It was like walking down memory lane for her, adding out how she used to climb the peach tree with her younger brother during their childhood. Once her eyes laid on Poetic Rose, she took her time admiring it.
“My younger brother grew up well. That’s all I could ever hope for as his only older sister.” She paused, noticing how silent you became when you stared at the painting along with her. She observed the passion lit in your eyes, yet there was longing behind it by the way your lips pouted briefly. “You must really love him, do you?”
“I do, truly. After meeting him, not only was I boosted with so much ideas, but my heart embraced him for what and who he is in this universe.” You professed confidently, earning an approving smile from Krystal.
“If that’s how you feel, why not tell him that yourself?”
Her fingers gestured you to turn around. Stood in a grey suit with his brown hair slicked back, it was like seeing a completely new person. A handsome one though. His fashion in the countryside heavily differed from his fashion in the cities. So sophisticated and refined, he looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale.
Your fairytale.
“Jaehyun.”
It’s like everything stopped once he sprinted towards you, pulling you off your feet for a snug hug. Your arms threw themselves on his neck by instinct, not wasting a single second in his grasp. Your nose inhaled the woody scent of his cologne, something more formal than his usual fruity scent.
The smell of aftershave in his jaw couldn’t go ignored either, assuming that he must have had plans to go out tonight. Nonetheless, you squealed as if you were back in Provence, giggling at his boldness. Once he put you down, neither of you could get your hands off each other.
“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you’d be in Paris!” Clutching your waist, you gazed at him with doe-like eyes, instilling confusion.
“J’ai voulu te surprendre, my chérie.” (I wanted to surprise you, my darling.)
He chuckled, pushing some straying strands of your hair behind your ear. His eyes evoked so much endearment towards this elegant look you prepared, making his heart race as if he were in the gardens of his manor again.
Hearing his petname for you again attacked your heart every time no matter how much time passed, he lifted your chin high. Jaehyun urged himself to kiss you senseless right there, leaning lower. And yes, you anticipated it by how your eyes instantly closed.
Only if it weren’t for Krystal to clear her throat, obviously ruining the mood. Flinching away from your sensual lover, you rubbed the nape of your neck. Towards an heiress like her, it must’ve been unprofessional.
“Couldn’t you at least wait until I left, younger brother?” Her fingers flicked Jaehyun’s forehead, a teasing trick they used to do as kids. Even if she was a lot shorter now, it didn’t mean the impact was weak. He cursed under his breath, covering his forehead.
Stifling your laughter was a failure, crinkling your eyes to unleash your emotions. So this is what their sibling dynamic was like?
“Now excuse me, older sister. You didn’t tell me you were visiting the exhibit after my birthday dinner with our parents?” He crossed his arms, exchanging a judgmental look. For his sake, he wanted to maintain his pride. “All you said after dinner was that you were going straight home with your fiancé after all the alcohol mother gave you because it made you lightheaded.”
“Well, you know Key and his persuasiveness. He insisted I attend this event last minute because all the collections were amazing.” She explained, shedding a subtle glance at you. “Plus, it’s an excuse to finally meet this lovely girl you raved so much through your letters.”
Jaehyun kept his family life private, so this piece of information was new to you. The unpredicted way the fluttering feeling drew in your stomach, all you could do was smile from the flattery.
“He spoke about me to you?”
“More than speak, my dear. He practically professed his love for you, asking me advice on how to court a girl, make them smile, etcetera. You’re the first girl he’s been this affectionate with, and I completely understand now.” She patted your shoulder, hopeful. She had such a strong older sister vibe, reminding you of your older siblings back home. “You’re a clever, talented woman. I look forward to seeing you more often.”
As you nodded in approval, she turned towards her brother with her recurring teasing look. “Yah, Jaehyun. You better take care of her. If she ever sheds a tear because of you, I’m hunting you down in the gardens.”
“Harsh of you, Krystal.” He planted his hand on his chest, feigning pain. “But no worries. Having you and mother around me kept me well-mannered towards women growing up.”
Playfulness aside, Krystal felt honored towards her younger brother. Men these days maintained their sexist beliefs and rudeness, especially those who doubted her high position in the family business once her father stepped down. Nowadays, it’s men like Jaehyun who could really challenge the patriarchy and make women pursue a lot more than being limited as a housewife.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Now please excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”
Krystal waltzed her way out without tripping from her slight intoxication, which Jaehyun worried about earlier. But anyway, that left him alone with you. Filled with so many questions, you didn’t know where to start.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Paris? Why didn’t you acknowledge my birthday wishes to you? Why aren’t you answering my calls and letters?” You blurted without wasting a breath, weren’t trying to come off as needy, but it became peculiar when he was contacting you like usual.
You pushed off thinking of the worst scenarios, not wanting it to ruin your drive and your emotions either. Yet you trusted Jaehyun enough to know he wasn’t the type of person either.
“Okay slow down, ma chérie.” His hands maneuvered for you to stop for a bit. “Ask me one by one and I’ll give you a solid answer for each while we roam around.”
He arrived in Paris last week, which was initially for work. Then his birthday clashing was a coincidence. It would be too lonely to go home and celebrate his special day alone, so he extended. But again, it’s his work that caused his abrupt contact.
When you were too busy delving into the success of recovering your inspiration, he also found his spur to write again too. Day and night, his mind kept him tedious with an endless trail of thoughts and words. Overall, he finalized it then brought the end product to the same publishing house where his books in the past went through.
In fact, he decided to publish them specifically today on his birthday. The only day in his itinerary he planned, where after publishing, he’d hang out with his friends, have dinner with his family then run off to reunite with you.
“I didn’t intend to make you feel like a second choice, so please forgive me for that, ma chérie.”
“All is forgiven, Jaehyun.” You held both his hands, kissing them tenderly out of habit. “I’m overjoyed that you rekindled your creative side again.”
You were so understanding and empathetic, and Jaehyun aimed to act that way too. He learned so much from you as his friend before being his lover. Quickly enough, you’re both back to his portrait in the center. Like a critic, he narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. Tapping his chin with his finger,
“This man in Poetic Rose, he’s quite dashing.” He commented with conceit, walking closer to it to view it better. “His freckles are on point, his dimples and dazzling eyes too. Why exactly is he described as a Poetic Rose?”
“Well sir,” You stood beside him, imitating his actions. “This man here always spoke so eloquently, like he had a very poetic approach on life. He reminded me also of a rose by his rosy tinted cheeks and his beauty. He was alluring inside and out.”
“Is he your favorite muse?”
“I never quoted him as a muse because he’s more than that. Muses can be replaced once they no longer serve purpose towards the artist. Though with him, he’s the never-ending flame that I want to keep for the rest of time."
You held on to his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. The apparent reddening of his ears proved that he was flustered, yet you spoke no lies.
“Joyeux anniversaire, ma flamme.” (Happy birthday, my flame.)
“Merci beaucoup, ma chérie.” (Thank you, my darling.)
Something about his new release piqued your attention so you brought it up again.
“So tell me about your new book.”
“Let me show you instead.” Inside the blazer, there was an inner pocket that sealed a small hardbound book. Taking it out, he handed it over to you. “This is your copy.”
The cover of the book had an illustration of two young adults running down the fields under the bright sun, with the title written in cursive and placed in the center.
“L’Été de 1957.” (The Summer of 1957.)
Like a child who received a new gift in the mail, you flipped the book open. Seeing the table of contents and credits to other important people involved in the process, there was a detailed dedication right before the starting chapter. It’s an unexpected page, noticing that he never put anything like this in his last works.
“Pour ma chérie, qui a peint les couleurs manquantes de ma vie.” (For my darling, who painted the missing colors of my life.)
Although Jaehyun planned to write about the couples he met in the countryside, he chose to change his perspective. Instead, he based this new book on your summer romance, installing more original characters who made your romance blossom more.
“I was once so engaged in listening to people’s love stories, hung up on what they felt.” He expounded, pacing around the floor whilst you skimmed through the pages. There were black and white photos from your adventures too to wrap the reader further in the story.
“While I was struggling to find the next story, I realized late that my story with you was a perfect choice. When I fell in love with you, it’s like I didn’t have to fret anymore about anything. Everything slowly yet surely aligned into place for me. Like how we found inspiration in each other.”
A poetic speaker meant having a poetic, wise mind. You kept an open mind whenever Jaehyun shared his thoughts on life with you, an intimate time that didn’t require using your bodies. Whether you were stargazing or drinking wine by his patio, his soulful personality never changed.
“So I recapped every single memory we had and compiled them,” He resumed, taking a closer step towards yours. His warm hands grasped your waist again, catching a glimpse of your astonished face. Mostly, towards your lips that he missed feeling against his.
“This book expressed my own take on love this time, the one I want to grow in.”
You’d care less if you dropped the book and your coat right there, your major desire to kiss him again was driving your senses to the edge of a cliff. Nothing could’ve braced yourself the second you fervently collided your lips with his. It didn’t feel like you were in this exhibit, but somewhere back in his mansion engulfed in each other’s presence.
Your legs almost melted by your daring move, if it weren’t for Jaehyun’s arm moving upwards to your back to stabilize you more. Your body tingled with goosebumps due to his relaxing fingers all over your body. His tongue caved in your lips, and you couldn’t ban its access.
Such an explicit sight, it felt forbidden as you were inches away from the public crowd. Yet it was the least of your worries if they made a big fuss over it. Jaehyun was here again with you, and that was more valuable to you. He savored every trace of your touches, taking his delicate time with you. No past birthday could defeat this, especially when it’s the first one to celebrate with you. The first of many.
As much you wanted to keep this up for hours, your lungs started feeling constricted of air so your lips timidly let go. Though your hands couldn’t, your overwhelmed eyes couldn’t shift away from the heart-stopping view of your lover. Wherein even after such a fearless session, his eyes fused with love and need with his plumper lips.
“Everything about Provence, especially you, that’s the life I want.” You confessed this concealed secret that’s revolved your head for a while now. Yet its certainty was true.
“Are you sure, ma chérie? What about work?” As an artist, he believed you should stay where everything is accessible. Yet as his woman, he wanted you to follow your heart. Jaehyun didn’t want you to choose or struggle.
“I’ve grown out from the idea that the city life was the only life meant of an artist like me.” You replied, confident enough to discuss it after deep thought. “Cities like Paris hold exciting, vigorous flames that will have you clinging on to them. But then, they’ll eventually die the longer you stay. You get burned in the process too. However, I stand by what I said earlier. I found an endless flame when I met and began loving you, Jaehyun. It doesn’t sting at all; it illuminates strongly every living day.”
Urging him to lower his stance with your fingers, you stated one last phrase. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”
“If that’s the case,” Jaehyun acknowledged, sticking his arm out for you. “Let’s get out of here.”
Astounded expressions crowded the socialites in the event as they watched the both of you exit together. If the news of Krystal and Donghyun weren’t crazy enough, some journalists figured the mysterious man behind The Poetic Rose and spread it like wildfire.
How was the youngest son of the Jeong family turned renowned romance novel author connected to the impressive, up-and-coming painter from London?
What really went down in Provence?
“How can you miss out on the signs? Did you not see them share a kiss earlier?” Key protested to those who weren’t approving whatever relationship you guys had. He loved his tea but hated those who simply were money hungry. Wanting a chance to be a part of the rich family, only to fish them out of their riches sooner or later.
Meanwhile, the winter season didn’t stop any of you from roaming the streets of Paris. Moments like these were a preview of the future you’ve envisioned with Jaehyun. Youthful, free, and fiery, a love between two artists created more magic not just in their crafts but to those around them.
Promenading a street overlooking the Seine River, Jaehyun took out a smaller instant camera from his pocket and took a candid shot of you. Stunned, you slapped his chest with your bag.
“Hey! Just how many more things are hidden in your blazer?”
“Just my wallet and a few condoms. Why’d you ask?” He raised a suggestive brow, feigning good intentions.
You hummed, faking your deep thought mindset. “At this rate, I don’t think we’ll make it back to my apartment alive.”
Jaehyun tugged you by your coat, his lips hovering your ear to whisper. “If we call a cab right now, I can finger you in the backseat.”
You chuckled at his vulgar idea, but it seemed ideal. You loved the thrill of getting caught or having someone overhearing you two, just like him. Besides, his fingers don’t match up to yours when you touch yourself alone in your apartment. You bat your eyelashes, giving in.
“Deal.”
6 ans plus tard (1964)
Summer returned, the sun strongly smiling down to the plentiful flowers at your family garden. By the patio of your home, your canvas was already laid by the easel stand. Shades of yellow were applied first to symbolize the brightness of the day, following the outline of your desired scenery for this piece.
Dipping the brush in water to change colors, you took another glance at the breezy sky. Light blue with clouds resembling soft pillows, you inhaled gently as your brush faintly stroked the canvas again.
Your hair was tied in a bun, meaning that you’re in for a busy session. But a more soothing one as the jazz music flowed from the vinyl player inside. Stress was the last thing you needed right now.
“What’s madame artiste up to right now?” Your husband piped in from behind, placing down a tray of tea and crackers. With some top buttons of his white top left unattended, you glimpsed on his toned chest when he leaned down. But you mustn’t pry whilst working, even when temptation was calling your name repeatedly.
“The summer sunshine healed me of my discomfort, so I think it’s about time I painted again.” You chewed on the snack, looking back and forth to the view. As enchanting as all the flowers you and him planted over the years grew, you’re more amused by a little boy strolling around it with his magnifying glass and tiny wooden basket with his furry puppy by his side.
His tiny legs often troubled the two of you because he enjoyed spending time with nature. Only God knows what he found in the garden this time.
“Adrien est explorer encore. Devrais-je lui dire qu’il change de place, ma chérie?” (Adrien is exploring again. Should I tell him to change places, my darling?) Jaehyun cautiously asked, not wanting his 3 year old son to impair your perspective.
“Non,” (No,) You held on to his hand, kissing it sweetly. Although you peeved any unnecessary details found in your scenery in the past, Adrien was an exception. As his mother, it’s hard to say no to him unless necessary.
“Il est un garçon curieux, alors il devrait explorer et flâner où il veut.” (He’s a curious boy, so he should explore and wander wherever he wants.)
Life ever since you returned to the countryside shifted into something more precious than you imagined. From moving places constantly, you found a home to settle in for good. A home with overflowing love and inspiration. A home within Jeong Jaehyun.
Recently, you halted your work-related activities in Paris and came home because you were heavily homesick. It even affected your health as a whole. So you made adjustments with your schedules, postponing appearances to events to next year.
On the plus side, you could be more active as a mother to Adrien. It felt like you burdened Jaehyun to take care of Adrien most of the time because he mainly worked from home, wherein important people who wanted to meet him would have to fly out to the countryside.
Back and forth to Paris, your presence towards Adrien often lacked. Here came your biggest fear, which was Adrien forgetting you. But Jaehyun told you over and over again that it wasn’t the case. As he listened to every wrenching thought you had, but he’d combat it with heartfelt words of reassurance so you wouldn’t overanalyze things.
He vowed to love and take care of you when times get hard, and he will continue doing so.
Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?
It no longer did after getting married.
It gave more room to grow and breathe more life into it. When Adrien was born, he was the prime reflection of your and Jaehyun’s love. He mirrored his father’s physical traits but with a daring personality like yours. A perfect mixture, the world worked amazingly to bring a boy like him into your life.
“Maman! Papa!” Adrien bolted to where you and Jaehyun stood. From the clothes he wore, it’s very much clear that his father was in charge of it whilst you slept in the entire morning. Suspenders, capri shorts, a white shirt, and a red beret, he deserved his title as Jaehyun’s mini-me.
Jaehyun swelled with pride and love for his only son, peeking over what he brought to show and tell you both. “Oh Adrien, what do you have for us today?”
In his basket, there were 3 sunflowers stuck out from the edge. It’s been a while since you’ve seen some in full bloom, lowering your stance to get a more vivid view. He took them out to hand them to you and your husband.
One flower for Jaehyun and two for you. You let out a gasp, scrunching your brows to the center. He always gave one of each item to you and Jaehyun, never more or less.
“Ooh, deux fleurs pour Maman. Pourquoi, Rien?” (Ooh, two flowers for Mama. Why, Rien?) Jaehyun let his nickname out for his lips while you grasped his small hand.
“Well, I heard from Olivier next door that on his birthday, he gave extra flowers to his mother so he could have another sibling. And it worked!” He spoke so innocently, yet it hitched a choke from Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes widened from disbelief. The information he collected due to his curiosity, no boundaries truly.
“Le mois prochain, c’est mon anniversaire. Je me demandais si je peux avoir un frère ou sœur comme Olivier? Tu es toujours occupée, comme Papa. Je ne veux plus être seul, alors je veux une amie aussi.” (It’s my birthday next month, and I was wondering if I can have a sibling like Olivier? You are always busy, like Papa. I don’t want to be alone anymore, so I want a friend too.)
You exchanged looks with Jaehyun, not knowing how exactly to respond. Although you and Jaehyun did agree that you wanted more than one child when you were younger, neither of you brought it up again since your careers were always loaded with plans.
Adrien was a surprise child actually, conceived on the night where you and Jaehyun celebrated after L’Été de 1957 was announced to be the best-selling romance novel of the decade in the country.
In Paris at his family home, where his parents brought out all their prized liquor, the two of you drank the entire night away to the point Krystal and Donghyun had to push you away from each other from your public affections because their children were present.
But it didn’t stop you two once you reached his bedroom, far away from everything and everyone. And you’ll never change it.
“Oh, Rien,” You eased in, consoling him. “Je suis désolé. Mais c’est franchement une grande demande, n'est-ce pas?” (I am sorry. But that’s quite a big request, right?)
“Mom and I will think about it first, okay? Another kid is a big responsibility, and you’ll be their older brother. That’s another important job, can you do it well?”
“Yes, I can, Papa!” He beamed with glee, his covered head patted by his father after. As you placed the sunflowers beside your palette, Adrien then proceeded to ask you if he could paint with you like old times.
Never you refuse especially with his sparkling round eyes and chubby face that makes you want to squish every time.
As you lifted his light body to sit on your lap, you placed your brush between his stubby fingers and carefully aimed in whatever angle seemed fit so the painting process would run smoothly and perfectly. He let out sounds of amazement when the strokes get bigger, jumping slightly too because the picture became more vivid. You’d smile and coo at him, commending whenever he followed instructions well. As his mother, you only encouraged your child in whatever they want to excel in.
Adrien was the child of two artists, so it was only natural that he had an artistic side in his veins.
Too caught up in your fun, hearing the automatic shutter of the camera from your side was delayed. The source was none other than Jaehyun hiding behind his camera. Jaehyun’s heart soared at the heavenly view of the most important people in his life, wanting to treasure the moment as a lovely memory.
“Hey!” You shouted, placing down the messy brush by the palette. “Je suis très laid!” (I am very ugly!)
“Shh! Tu est rayonnant, ma chérie. Papa est juste, Rien?” (Shh! You are glowing, my darling. Papa is right, Rien?)
Jaehyun politely quizzed the peppy boy, nodding excitedly. His dimples deeply showed up, the main trait he claimed from his father.
“Oui, papa! Maman est toujours belle!” (Yes, papa! Mama is always beautiful!)
He exclaimed, pecking your cheek numerously. You squealed, attacking him with tickles and kisses back. His shouts of delight, then he was suddenly carried by your tall husband in the air like he was flying in the sky. Adrien enjoyed that motion highly, ending up on Jaehyun’s shoulders shortly after to play by the garden again.
“Go paint. I’ll take care of him now.” Jaehyun persuaded, roaming through the long rows of flowers in full bloom. Though seconds after adding some strokes to your piece, you let down your hair, put a hat and sandals on, and ran to the cute duo to join them.
And that’s how your family spent the entire afternoon. By the garden, running around and taking photos and short videos from Jaehyun’s camera. Freezing these valuable memories, this was truly the life you loved so much.
After your break, you could convince the company you worked at that you’d prefer fewer trips to Paris and stay in the countryside longer. How badly you’ve wanted to hold your exhibits here instead. Plus like Jaehyun, let influential people visit you. You’ve already made a big name for yourself now, so that should be valid enough.
Dinner time passed by quickly too, eventually putting Adrien to a smooth slumber as you massaged the roots of his soft hair while Jaehyun sang him a lullaby. This was your joint parenting technique with him since he was a newborn, and it worked quickly as lightning.
You redressed into your silk nightgown after bringing your canvas to the master bedroom, opening the balcony doors to invite the cool breeze in. You tweaked some bits of your painting, including a silhouette of your small family. Regarding where to place it, probably by the living room as it matched the theme.
“What a spectacular day, don’t you think, ma chérie?” Jaehyun conversed, admiring the calm movements of your brush. He noticed a quirky smile grace your lips.
“It’s been a long time since we had quality time like that with Rien. He’s a feisty ball of energy these days.” You replied with a nostalgic daze. “It’s so crazy how one day, he was still crawling to us. Now, he could outrun the both of us.”
“Comme le temps passe vite, hmm?” (How time flies fast, hmm?) Nodding, nothing braced for what your husband had in mind. You almost dropped your brush mid-way. Jaehyun’s lips impatiently devoured your neck, his huge hands fondling your breasts. Violently throwing your head back against his chest, a needy moan parted your lips.
“Jae-” His touches reaching south to where you desired him highly, dampening hastily as your legs naturally spread apart. Rushed exhales, “À quoi tu penses maintenant?” (What are you thinking about right now?)
“Rien se sent seul,” (Rien feels alone,) His hot breath whispered against your ear, his fingers dangerously trailing your thin panties up and down. With your hands tightly clutching on his bicep,
“Alors, donnons-lui une amie.” (We should give him a friend.)
Ever since Adrien mentioned such a daring topic, it hasn’t left Jaehyun’s mind the whole day. After seeing you in utter bliss with your son earlier, he found you so majestic and radiant. It’s a different kind of happiness, especially for parents.
Now you went on hiatus, he thought that it was the right time to have another. He enjoyed his younger years with Krystal, and he wanted Adrien to experience it too. 3 years was quite a wait, and it seemed ideal to try again.
From his nude chest, you flipped around to intensely clash his lips with yours. Draping your arms behind his neck, Jaehyun lifted your entire figure from the chair. His hands gripping on your butt, he delicately lowered you down your bed.
Drowning into his sensual kisses with his hands all over you, this could prolong for hours. Reddening love marks started to resurface whilst your fingers tugged on the drawstring of his pajama pants. Jaehyun’s fingers dove under the fabric of your panties, his index finger rubbing figure 8s the sensitive bundle of nerves.
You struggled to swallow your moans, not wanting Rien to hear it. You wouldn’t want to repeat history, covering it as Jaehyun massaging you after a hard day.
“I know you want one too, ma chérie.” His fingers began to drape down the straps of your gown, presenting your breasts in its full, perky view. But before his lips could suck on your erect nipples, you parted momentarily from him and got up on your feet. Pulling up your straps again, Jaehyun simply laid down but he wasn’t pleased from how you left him hanging.
“Où vas-tu, ma chérie?” (Where are you going, sweetheart?)
He was growing impatient. You were never to interrupt such a sexy atmosphere ever.
From one of your drawers in your vanity table, an important, half-opened envelope was hidden. You were supposed to give it tomorrow but now seemed like a perfect time. Reading it as soon one of the maids handed it to you gave you the jitters, but in a positive way. Sitting back down on the edge of your bed, you exhilaratingly passed it to your husband.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” (What is this?)
“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)
Jaehyun slowly opened the edges and once he took out the contents. Reading it thoroughly, he couldn’t believe it as his jaw dropped, pacing from the letter and you back and forth.
“Vraiment, ma chérie?” (Really, my darling?)
It was from a doctor you visited in Paris a few days before you left, who confirmed just exactly what caused your health to go feeble suddenly. You already had one certain suspicion, which you addressed in your leave of absence letter. Amelié, who finally got the position as the head, couldn’t believe her ears and insisted you take all the time off you needed.
“On dirait que Adrien a reçu son cadeau d'anniversaire en avance.” (It looks like Adrien received his birthday gift early.)
Overall, it turned out the headaches and repeated vomiting you mistook as motion sickness from traveling was a surprise hello to your second child.
A girl specifically, thanks to the blood test she recommended.
“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”
“Montre moi combien tu m’aimes, Jaehyun.” (Show me how much you love me, Jaehyun.)
The whole night through, the two of you vigorously celebrated with the moonlight from the windows and a few scented candles set in the room. Wet kisses left on your collarbone, words of devotion exchanged, holding his hand as he groaned from heartily thrusting in you, the number of moans from your lips overlapped with the vinyl playing in the room. The intimacy between you two increased, almost as if you made love for the first time again all those years ago.
Excluding being drenched from the rain.
Once the two of you grew tired, Jaehyun lied down beside you. Wrapping one arm around, one hand trailed down your naked skin again. His wedding band flashed your eyes, reminding you of the commitment you promised each other. For better, and for worse.
Jaehyun promised to love you endlessly as a woman and his wife, and it didn’t cease when you became the mother of his children. He respected how strong you are, physically and mentally. He helped you in any way he could as you endured the struggling process.
At the end of the day, his family was his biggest priority. More than ever now, you needed him as you go through the pregnancy phases again. Specifically, his index finger lingered on your stomach. There was no bump or other signs of showing, except for that glow he complimented you earlier on.
“We met and fell in love over the summer, got married in summer, had Adrien mid-summer, and now found out about our daughter at the start of summer.” He smiled, blessed at all the good he’s received during this time.
“The summer gods must adore us.” Your vacant hand with your wedding band topped his. To love and to cherish. “Ils m'ont amené à toi.” (They brought me to you.)
His power on you was simply addicting, as if your early twenties revisited you. You straddled himself once again, your fingers caressing his face sweetly. When it reached his lips, he placed longing kisses there and pulled you closer again for another kiss on your lips. In between, you mumbled in a silvery tone,
“Then they led us to say I do. Pour toujours et à jamais.”
copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.
#nct#nct au#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct angst#nct fluff#nct smut#nct x reader#nct 127#nct 127 au#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 angst#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 smut#nct 127 x reader#jaehyun#jeong jaehyun#jung jaehyun#nct jaehyun#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun smut#jaehyun angst#nct jaehyun x reader#jeong jaehyun x reader#jung jaehyun x reader#jung jaehyun imagines
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can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D
HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.
Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')
I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx
properly improper by @lizardcookie
“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”
- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)
The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl
What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant?
Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.
- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION
Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world
Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.
- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily
Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames
The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.
James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.
- giddy just thinking about this gem
'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish
It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.
- cries in respect for lyrical writing
Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw
Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)
- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this
oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic
Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.
- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS
a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames
James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.
His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with
- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")
about time by @jilyss
'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'
- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor
whiskey business by @elanev91
Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.
- hysterical! must read!
Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw
James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.
- classic hijinks that I live for
it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91
Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry
- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart
spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i
tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.
needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.
- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.
Waffle Wars by @elanev91
There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.
- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched
You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger
Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.
- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever
out the window by @displayheartcode
A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.
- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free
The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine
An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…
- petunia pov that gives me WINGS
Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites
At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.
- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM
if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove
Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)
- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?
Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction
It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.
- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it
How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei
“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."
- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)
The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction
The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.
- complete sucker for this one
All This Time by @thejilyship
James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.
- one of my favvvv tropes
Let Me Love You by @thejilyship
With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.
- cries in princess diares AU
The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites
Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.
- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.
Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl
This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest.
He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion.
She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.
- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv
Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger
When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?
- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE
The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger
“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.
You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.
Right?
- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER
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Rebellion in Ojibwe Society: Considerations for Pre-Contact Indigenous Peoples
@raconteuse3 asked:
Hi! I'm writing a fantasy story with an Ojibwe-like culture, and I'm wondering what rebellion/counter culture would look like in a tribal culture pre-contact? One of my characters has a rebellious spirit, but I keep writing her in a very ... American-teenage-rebellion way, which I know isn't a phase of life in all cultures. To rephrase in snarky terms, "what were Ojibwe punks up to 500 years ago?" I haven't been able to find any helpful information, so I thought I'd ask here! Thank you!
Traditional disclaimer: not raised under traditional parenting techniques, not from that nation, this is primarily pointing out structural differences in Indigenous society vs Western from a reconnecting person.
Teenagerhood as we know it is modern
When it comes to the concept of rebellion, there is one very important thing to keep in mind: how recent and privileged the concept of “teenagerhood is a sheltered time you figure yourself out” is. In a lot of traditional societies, you started helping doing the adult work in childhood alongside your parents. By teenage years you were a pretty valued member of the community, and were beginning to work on adult honours, were looking to get married, etc.
Pre-contact parenting traditions exists in modern day, too. You can absolutely look at very modern, very connected Indigenous societies and notice the way they structure work and parenting is different. Parenting traditions are going under a huge revival as communities heal from residential schools, and these traditional techniques are being preserved.
So what is she even rebelling against? She’d be in a world where she’d be granted a lot of autonomy, be able to do basically everything an adult could by this point, and would have been guided by people working alongside her. The traditional avenues of rebellion like “you don’t know what it’s like to grow up now” and “I’m not a kid stop treating me like one” are harder to rely on.
It’s really primarily an industrialization invention to have teen years be the “in between” years we know them as today. In modern times, teenage years are considered the years you focus on your education to eventually get started as an adult in your 20s, once you have a job that is in a separate institution to your family.
In non-industrial societies where the primary work available is what keeps the community running, and extra time is spent creating beauty (art, stories, music), or advancing our understanding of the world (medicine, scientific experiments). There is far less need for a period of being sheltered where all you do is educate yourself in order to be an adult; I’d assume the primary structures of teenage years would be based around helping teach emotional regulation.
A note: the average hunter-gatherer, according to anthropologists, only “does work” (to survive) about 20 hours a week. There would be plenty of time to do fun things in society.
And I’m sure somebody in the notes will mention it: yes, the fact that the average age was closer to 60-70 instead of 80-90 like we have in industrial society is part of it. But elders could and did live into their 80s pre-contact, so the point is less salient than you’d think.
Environmental controls didn’t exist
The other important thing to keep in mind is: there was only so much rebellion you could do before you ended up dead from the natural world.
Elders were those who had survived and whose wisdom you could use to help everyone’s survival. Counsel and collective leadership were often prized, along with young experience. Humility was often taught as a virtue because pride went out and got you killed, and greed would render the land uninhabitable.
So really, the likelihood of having her be rebellious in any way we’d recognize is slim to none. Traditional Indigenous parenting techniques are worlds different than American parenting techniques, and anthropologist after anthropologist has noted that kids in Indigenous societies—when those societies don’t have massive traumas that come from, say, residential schools and parents never being able to learn Indigenous practices—are way more well adjusted than Western teenagers.
If you’re dead set on having her be rebellious in some way: my biggest suggestion would be to read ethnographies of the Ojibwe that described their cultural practices and see if there were any social norms discussed around teenage rebellion; you could get lucky and find a gem of rebellion actively described, or you might have to read through a bunch and piece together a cultural context from them.
But you need to do this research anyway, so look for particularly thick and comprehensive tomes. As I said, this can be found in modern day, so you’re not super limited by time period. If you really want to focus on “as it was”, you’ll be looking for writings between 1850 and 1930.
(I’ve read one ethnography that mentioned an avenue of rebellion among the Omaha, written in 1911. It described how arranged marriages for teenage girls were common, but if the girl could get her chosen husband’s family to treat her as his wife, then the father couldn’t force her to marry the guy he chose. But that relies on a patriarchal society, even if the idea of a patriarchal society would have looked different at the time)
Look for things published by universities; those will have the best academic rigour. I’m not super well versed in the modern anthropology programs because my education stopped right before I got to that point, but an edu with a heavy involvement in the tribe will be the best.
Historically your best sources, or at least a place to look for sources, are those who had close connections with the tribe and lived there for extended periods of time, or even better had tribal co-writers. An example of the former would be Margaret Mead, who wrote Coming of Age in American Samoa, and she kind of single handedly brought breastfeeding back to American society. Her work is highly debated, but the Samoans she worked with loved her; she lived with them for most of her life, from her 20s to retirement. An example of the latter is Alice Fletcher, who co-wrote The Omaha Tribe with Francis La Flesche.
Ojibwe, please comment: What does “rebellion” look like to you?
~ Mod Lesya
#Asks#ojibwe#fantasy#parenting#parents#rebellion#native american#Teenagers#worldbuilding#family#Family Life
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Part ten of the More To Love Series
Summary: The ball is tomorrow night and preparations are in full swing in the Mandalorian Palace. In desperate need of a break from all of the Masquerade planning, you get away from the palace for a few hours. This gives you a chance to reflect on your relationship with the Knight, learn more about his past, and grow closer with Koska.
Word Count: 10.9k, NO ‘Y/N’
Warnings: SMUT (handjob, grinding, this is like actually sort of gross if you over think it so just don’t over think it thanks <3), THIS IS EXPLICIT, 18+ CONTENT, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. Swearing. Mentions of: blood, scars, fighting, hand-to hand combat.
IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: insight of recent events surrounding my tumblr, I have added an additional in-text warning for the smut scenes. This will continue for future chapters for those who do not wish to read the explicit scenes of More to Love.
Author’s Note: HEY, it’s been a little while, huh? Happy to be back. THANK YOU FOR 1k FOLLOWERS HOLY CRAP!! You all mean so much to me and the support of this fic is unlike anything I could have ever asked for! Also... the smut in this gets,, nasty. Like not that bad it isn’t super kinky or needs lots of warnings it’s just... like gross if you think too hard about that so do me a favor and don’t overthink it haha. OKAY LOVE YOU ENJOY
Part Nine
“No, If you keep that elbow down it will throw off your balance.”
“Okay, what if I hold it like this.”
“No it will get more tired faster.”
“Well how long do I have to keep it up like this?”
“Until the song ends!” You sigh, your fingers coming up to hold your eyebrow out of frustration. You and the Knight have been in the library for nearly an hour trying to learn how to waltz together and if you didn’t know any better, you’d guess he had two left feet. He was starting to get the hang of it, though. Slowly but surely and through a lot of trial and error but you don’t have very much room to talk because an hour before this one, he was just as frustrated with you because you couldn’t swing at him with nearly enough power needed to make some damage on anyone. This is how you’ve spent your last two evenings with the knight. The two of you sarcastically bullying one another in learning the opposite’s art. It was already Friday, the ball was tomorrow and you weren’t sure if he was going to be able to pull it together in time. The worst part is that you haven’t had anytime privately with him to do your... usual antics. There was always someone with you, usually Korkie or Koska, or the dance and fighting practice took up too much time to really have any fun.
The palace has been bustling the last two days. Every servant has had a task they were always doing, there was no down time for them which meant lots of downtime for the Royals. If there was no one to set up tea, then there would be no tea, simple as that.
Because of the high workload put on the staff of the palace, each royal has been subject to dinner in their own rooms alone this week, which was a dream come true for you. Dinner was your least favorite time of the day because of how painful it was to get through socially. And it also meant you got to spend more time with your own thoughts. You still aren’t sure what to do about the marriage, especially since you’ve admitted to yourself that you think you are falling for the beskar-clad knight who stands watch outside your door.
Even Soniee has been spending less time inside your quarters pampering you (you could really use a bubble bath). At all hours of the day, there was either a team of butlers carrying large bouquets of flowers down ornate hallways, a chef interrupting your dress fitting with Soniee and Koska to have you try another flower-flavored mousse, or an immediate meeting with the Queen to learn about some of your guests who will be at the masquerade and how to properly greet them. One time yesterday, you were asked to review the lanterns they picked out for the garden decorations. You were so indifferent to the ones they picked that the servants actually sent you back inside out of frustration. Along with the controlled chaos of preparations, the mask making has still left you feeling guilty. Just this morning you caught a glimpse of Koska’s shaky hands that had clearly been pricked by one too many needles while sewing jewels into the Queen’s mask. You must have apologized too much because she eventually got snarky and asked you to quit saying sorry about it. As much as you would like to dance with your knight with others looking on, you weren’t sure if it was worth all the pain and labor others were putting themselves through for it.
Party planning was exhausting, and on top of all of it, you needed to teach the most uncoordinated man in the kingdom how to waltz. It genuinely baffled you how he was able to be so methodical and perfect in hand-to hand combat and in bed but can barely hold his own in situations such as these. There was something charming about that flaw, however.
Now, the golden sunlight of the aging day was pouring into the towering windows of the Mandalorian library. It had made the room warm, and showed just how valuable the knight’s dark skin was as his bare hands soaked in the rays. You caught yourself staring at them a few too many times, which to your dismay, he caught you doing.
“You’re staring again.” He says while the two of you are practicing the basic 1, 2, 3 waltz step. Your eyes jump back to the emotionless visor of the beskar helmet which looked down at your face. You didn’t even realize you were looking at your hand holding out to the right, studying the way his knuckles looked and how clean his fingernails were.
“Sorry… It’s just that dancing is usually an emotional thing, you’re supposed to play off of eachother I suppose.” You shrug, stopping the dance. You realized you had been searching for something to play off of, anything, even if it’s just the calloused fingers of a hard worker.
You wouldn’t think the two of you would be so far behind and underprepared but for a majority of these rehearsals you’ve been the one leading as he figures it out. You know how bad it would look if you were the one leading tomorrow, and you’re starting to lose hope that you’re going to pull this off. You had wished you started teaching him earlier, but knew that he would have never agreed before now.
“Princess, you do realize that you’re probably still not going to see my face if we dance tomorrow.” He drops your hands. You sigh, you did know it, you just didn’t want to admit it.
“I know… when do you take it off?” You couldn’t remember if you had asked this already. Maybe you were out of line for asking, but a piece of you didn’t care, you deserved to know.
He was quiet, he always was when you asked him something personal. Maybe he was hoping you would get the idea by now…
“When I eat, when I sleep… sometimes around my son. Sometimes around other guards.” He said as he walked towards one of the library windows. You followed him, a few footsteps behind. He stopped at the glass, his reflection disturbing the pristine scene outside. You could see the beach from this window, not as well as in other parts of the castle, but the horizon of the Mandalorian sea was still in view. Your reflection came up behind his. You could see the exhale of his lungs from the shift in armor weight.
“I understand if you never want to show me.” You said. You didn’t really believe that, but you did respect him, and because of that you had to accept the reality that he may never show you. Maybe you were just trying to convince yourself that. You walk a little further to him and stand up on your tippy-toes so that you may rest your chin on his shoulder, looking out at the world below. It was so peaceful from up here. You’ve only left palace grounds once in the last two weeks and you desperately want to again. Being cooped up inside an oil painting was getting exhausting. “I want to go somewhere.” You mutter, your arms wrapping around his waist to hug him from behind: a pure and innocent act of affection.
“What?” His helmet turns to the side just a little bit so that you might hear him better. “Like… the Garden? The Parlor?”
“No!” You chuckle against his pauldron, “Outside, I want to get out of the palace again.”
“Did you forget what happened last time we went out?” He asks meditatively. “We can’t risk anything happening to you before tomorrow, The Queen would be furious, and even worse, Koska would be too.”
“Of course I didn’t forget! I’ll have the scar to always remind me” You giggle at his remark. “And besides, I-I want to go to the water.” You step out from behind him to look out at and gesture to the gentle waves against the golden beach. “I’ve been on a sandy beach before.” You clear your throat.
“We… might be able to arrange that. How about we go on Sunday? After the ball?” He attempts to negotiate.
“Or we could go now? There’s no formal dinner tonight.” You suggest.
“Your parents are coming in tonight, along with a number of other guests, not to mention Grand General Vizsla, all the Royal Guard is to be presented to him at nine.” He groans, but you were determined to convince him. You really needed a break from all of the planning, fittings and tastings.
“So? It’s barely five! We can just go for a little while!” You say as you look at the grandfather clock that sits nestled between two bookcases. You weren't feeling very optimistic, you doubted he would not budge, he’s always been so stubborn. “I can repay you…” You bite your lip. You were also incredibly horny and remember overhearing a maid back home talk about sex on the beach. It had always excited you.
He sighs again.
“Please? For me? I seriously deserve a break, so do you.” You reach out to stroke his hand. You knew that would probably work, it has before.
“Fine-“
“Really!?”
“Yes, but we have to tell Koska just so they don’t think we’re missing again.” He turns to walk out of the library. You silently congratulate yourself on getting the most unmovable and obedient man in the galaxy to go against his orders and do what you want. You happily skip behind him. “It takes a while to get all the way down to the beach so we should probably take a horse.” He says on the move. “Do you know how to ride?”
“I’m royalty, of course I do… do you?” You revising a teasing eyebrow.
He scoffs at your question, “There is much you do not know about me.”
“Well, you make it sort of hard for me to learn.” You roll your eyes playfully. He elbows you in the side, knocking you off your balance. You attempt to do the same to him, nudging him right back but not even getting the boy to budge and hurting your funny bone a little against the Beskar.
It takes you two a few minutes of complete silence and portrait-perfect stature to get all the way down the palace into the servants quarters. The only other time you had been in these narrow, stone hallways in the ground level of the Mandalorian Castle was earlier this week after Korkie begrudgingly led you back to your quarters in a wet peasant gown and a stinging bicep.
By the time the knight and yourself had made it down here, he was leading you through the maze of corridors, past helmetless knights who all nodded out of respect as they passed you, and into a wooden-arch. The room you had entered into must have been the servant’s common room, because it was about the size of the dining room. A candle-lit, wooden chandelier hung over four long tables, unlike the glass and oil-lamp chandeliers in the rest of the palace. A large fireplace burned on one wall, illuminating the room more and several small, gothic-arch windows towards the ceiling allowed warm light to pour into the cozy hall. Several handmaidens bejeweled masks at one table, twice as many sewed the bases of the coverings at another. One table showcased all of the finished designs, which depicted extravagant bird beaks, colorful fox and wolf snouts, towering cat and rabbit ears, ornate peacock tails, sharp antlers and horns on some and even incredible tusks on a few. They were all breathtaking, and while you felt guilty for making so many staff members work double-time, you appreciated their handy-work in making your dream come true.
The fourth and final table was mostly empty, a few elderly and child servants ate potato soup at it, and one maid cleaned her finger-nails at the opposite end. Everything was so simple and normal, it was such a display of controlled chaos that almost made you forget about the corruption in Mandalore… almost.
A sharp whistle rang through the room, and immediately, everyone dropped what they were doing, stood up swiftly from their seats on the long benches that paralleled each table, and turned to look at you before bowing deeply and diligently. They hadn’t even noticed you were there at first and interrupting their normalcy was not what you intended to do, but then you caught sight of who it was that sang the whistle. Koska Reeves was walking through the bowed, silent heads to you and the Knight. She looked exhausted, her hair was down and over her shoulders instead of pinned up in the intricate braids she usually wore them in when she was around royalty. The amount of fly-always was distracting but you couldn’t blame her, she would not disappoint the Queen with her work, even if that meant looking a little rough and disheveled.
“What’s the meaning of this? All royalty is supposed to be approved before coming in here.” She says to your knight chivalrously, then turns to you, “This is no sight for you, princess.” Something told you that she wasn’t only referring to the activities taking place in the common room. “I am sorry for our disorder.”
“No worries, Lady Reeves. There’s no need to apologize. I am most impressed by the work done on the masks for tomorrow.” You gesture to the table with the completed designs.
She sighs and smiles, “Thank you.” She nods before turning around, “Carry On!” She calls out to the room and everyone returns to normal as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, as if you weren’t even there. There was something you liked about that, something that reminded you that even though you have a lucky bloodline, you’re human too, and not all that different from the workers in this very room. Their daily routine was fascinating to you. “What do you two want?” She hushes her voice and drops her “right-hand woman to the queen”, first lady-in-waiting and head of the Mandalorian royal staff persona. She’s now the same brash friend you two shared.
“We want to go out for a while, it’ll just be a few hours but we knew we needed to tell someone in case anyone notices that we’re missing.” The Knight nods, explaining the situation. She raises a questionable eyebrow.
“Absolutely not, we cannot risk anything happening to her before tomorrow night.” Your heart drops.
“That’s what I said, but she’s incredibly convincing.” He shrugs, tilting his head just enough to show the extra bit of emotion. Koska looks between the two of you, her hands perched firmly on her hips. You caught sight of her hands again, which were now bandaged tightly with the same white gauze that she wrapped your cut arm with earlier this week. You wondered if that was done to dress bleeding wounds, keep the shakiness from over-working and late nights in control, or a dreadful mix of both. A terrible feeling told you it was the third.
“Vizsla is going to be here.” She raises an eyebrow, her intimidating demeanor hasn’t gone away even after she’s become aware of your little secret (well, actually massive, life-altering, “how-the-hell-am-I-gonna-fix-this?” secret). “If you aren’t here, that could result in a court-martial from the Queen herself.”
“Sounds tempting.” He replies.
“You and I both know what’s going to happen to you and your little boy if you step out of line, even once, which is why I’m guarding your scandle so close to my heart.” Her voice get’s real quiet when she says that, and he shifts his weight. Your heart drops, what in the world could she mean by that? “You know what could happen to you if I accidentally slip something, that’s why I won’t cover for you.”
“What the hell does that mean?” You whisper. She glances at you and then right back to him.
“Wow, you really haven’t told her much, have you?” Koska’s arms move from her hips into a fold over her chest. He doesn’t respond.
“Told me much about what?” You ask, worried about whatever was going on that you didn’t know about. Every day you’re reminded about how much of a stranger he really is to you.
“All she knows is that I had an old job, that’s all she needs to know.” He bites back, his voice equally hushed.
“If you’re fucking her, she deserves to know a lot more, but that’s just my opinion.” Koska chuckles once and you blush red hot. “I mean, at least tell her your name.”
“Why is this happening here? Now?” He gestures to the very crowded room. “Look, we just want to go down to the beach for an hour at the most. We’ll be back long before Vizsla gets here. You won’t have to cover for us, I swear.” He tries changing the subject but your mind is racing with the possibilities and confusion of the conversation you were just welcomed into.
Koska looks between the two of you a few times again, carefully considering what’s on the table and the risk. “Fine, one horse. I mean it, only one because if two are gone, someone will notice and then I’m gonna have to do exactly what I told you I wouldn’t do and what you said I won't have to: cover for your ass. Get out of here.” She beckons her head to a door that leads outside as a smile spreads across your cheeks. “Djarin! Don’t be late!” She calls out as you begin walking. That’s the second time you have heard that word, both times uttered from Koska’s mouth. Something wanted you to believe that might be his name but you were far too scared to find out for your own. You would try to remember it this time.
The knight leads you out of the room, and you watch Koska over your shoulder as you follow, studying the way she stood still immediately after you walk away, taking a few deep, sharp breaths and then promptly returning to her work. You wondered if she was tired, remembering that not everyone who lives in the Mandalorian Palace has the same relaxing lifestyle that you have.
Despite the aging daylight, it was still deathly hot. The heat of summer bled onto your shoulders, which were still partially covered due to the scarring cut in your muscle. The clothing only added to the heat. The part of the Castle grounds you were were foreign to you. They weren’t the beautiful, lush and trimmed gardens or breezy courtyards you usually spend your afternoons in, no. It was dark, the tall height of the palace shading the courtyard where knights sparred and a pair of little servant girls chased one another. One wall that lined the courtyard was the horse stables, and another was a blacksmith. The golden light shone through the stables, and you were able to spot the four white horses that took you and Korkie to Keldabe earlier this week despite the beasts being backlit.
“You can ride, I’ll just walk.” He says as he guides you to a palomino, a tall horse with a Caramel body and pure white mane.
“Are you sure?” You ask, not wanting him to have to walk.
“Of course.” He says as he mindlessly bridles the horse, petting him on the nose a few times. “Do you prefer a saddle?” He asks. You nod, and he swings the seat over the back of the steed.
“Does this horse have a name?” You ask, reaching your hand out to pet his neck a few times. The horse nickers at your touch.
“He likes you.” The Knight chuckles. You smile at the statement, and continue to stroke the soft hair on the neck. “Clove.” He says, his voice velvet and full of caring. The knight knew this horse. They had a bond. “Here.” He holds his hand up for you to hoist yourself onto the saddle. You were in no way dressed for riding, and the saddle wasn’t even a side-riding seat, but you would make it work. You knew that on the palace grounds you would have to ride side-saddle, it’s customary, and how you learned. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t ride regularly. The horses back home in Corellia were massive beasts, animals suited for harsh winters and heavy amounts of snow, thick fur covers their ankles so that they can trudge through deep snow and pull sleighs. The Mandalorian horses were far more majestic, more like show horses than work horses. Clove was gentle, though, that was something that wasn’t common for the strong horses up north. He didn’t move a muscle or bat an eyelash as you heave yourself onto his back, adjusting yourself to sit properly, the knight’s hand holding yours tightly as you positioned yourself and then rearranging the heavy skirt of your dress to properly cover your legs. His plan grazes your shin as he does it, and your eyes immediately catch the visor of his beskar helmet. You liked to think he was looking at your eyes, too. The moment is so still, time freezing for half a second.
He starts to walk the horse out of the opposite side of the stable and into the field behind the palace. You could see the tree line of the garden from here. The bridle was tightly wrapped around his hand as he led the two of you out of the palace and into the hot, hot sun. This was the first time you’ve ridden a horse in a very long time, and you had almost forgotten how much you loved it. A cheesy smile was on your face, and your eyes cycled from the mane of the horse, the shoreline ahead, the back side of the ornate castle and the top of the helmet of the knight. The sun reflected off of the beskar, causing a bright illumination to shine on the bodice of your gown. He walked methodically and quietly, and you wanted to start a conversation with him but it didn’t feel right.
Comfortable silence is often overlooked, something taken for granted that is really only shared between two trusting people. You aren’t sure if you’ve ever experienced a genuine comfortable silence with anyone before. Being a royal has a lot of “fine print”, one of which being that no one ever shut up. Korkie isn’t the only self-centered, talkative royal in this world. The thing that sets Korkie aside from the rest is the fact that you’ll have to deal with it intimately for the rest of your life.
There was something wildly attractive about the introvert by your side. Because he was few with words, it caused you to seek them out, and cherish what little you did get. He was warming up to you, opening up and every time you get a moment alone with him, he says a little more. Your conversations now are very different from that first night in the castle when he helped you untie your corset. All he said originally was “Goodnight, Princess”, and now he’s telling you about the stars and teaching you how to fight and defend yourself. The idea that it’s happened too fast has crossed your mind several times, but you considered that when you’re alone with someone almost all day, every day, you’re bound to get to know one another quicker than usual. However, you’ve also been afraid that you came off too harsh, maybe you jumped into it all too fast and overwhelmed him. What if he’s only complying to the relationship because he’s obligated to through his duty? You had to admit that there were a number of insecurities surrounding your friendship, you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t think that. Maybe you felt that way because you relied so heavily on him to get away from the other boy in your life who you can’t escape no matter how hard you try. Was it entirely possible that the knight feels about you the way you feel about Korkie? That very thought made you sick, your stomach twisting and preventing you from enjoying the beautiful landscape ahead.
“What’s wrong?” He asks. He noticed that you had tensed up. You silently curse yourself for not hiding it better.
“What?” Your look down at him, forcing a false smile. He was looking up at you now, his hand resting on your knee. Your eyes move from where he holds you and back up to the visor on his helmet. “Oh… nothing.” You hum.
“You are a fool if you think you can hide anything from me.” He tilts his head and your cheeks burn with blush. You sigh, knowing you should tell him. The chances are that expressing these concerns to him might give you a piece of mind… or they could do the exact opposite. You aren’t sure if you can take the emotional weight of resenting two men who you admire. You admire them for entirely different reasons, however. You admire Korkie for his dedication to his kingdom, and you admire that he’s genuinely trying his best. However, you admire the Knight for his kindness, his patience, his protection. You admire his velour voice, his plush lips, and the way he touches you. You admire that he’s a father, that he’s split his dedication between his duty to his kingdom and his duty to his son. You admire his deep chuckle, and the way he kisses you, the way you can see him laugh when you shoot him silly faces during dinner. You both admired and was frustrated by his obedience to his creed. He kept promises, no matter how life-altering they may be.
As you reflect on all the reasons he meant anything to you, you felt a sense of peace. It was better, the feeling in your stomach, that is. You decide it is right to tell him, you recall your governess explaining to you that all good relationships are built on enthusiastic communication, and you wanted your relationship with the Knight to be considered ‘good’. You sigh and then speak up, “I just…” You take a sharp, deep breath in the middle of your sentence before speaking up again, “just lots of insecurities, I suppose.” You shrug.
“Insecure- about what?” He asks.
“Everything, but especially us.” You didn’t really want to have this conversation, but you knew you had to.
“May I ask why?” His tone was sincere.
You aren’t sure how to reply at first. “Is it too fast? Am I too much?” You ask after careful consideration of what you were going to bring up first.
“What? No.” You think this was the first time he had ever replied immediately after you ask him something. “What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know-“
“Yes you do… tell me.” He reassures.
“Our personalities are different, you’re quiet and stoic…”
“Is that… bad?”
“No! No, not at all. Royals just aren’t that, and I worry if we’re compatible enough. And don’t mistake me, I admire that about you, but I fear I’m too much for you.” You sigh, shaking your head. Clove nickers again as if he’s listening in on your conversation and chiming in. He doesn’t respond right away which you’ve gotten used to, but if it was any other situation you wouldn’t be overthinking it. You can’t take the silence anymore and speak up, “And there’s the added factor that I’m totally cheating on Korkie with you-”
“-If I thought you were too much, do you think I would let you teach me how to dance?” He interrupts. The words halt in your mouth, and you look at him almost dumbfounded. “Or do you think I would be teaching you how to defend yourself? Fucking you on a royal sofa in an un-locked room? Risking my title to take you to the beach?” He almost sounded… angry? Had you offended him for thinking that? Your legs tensed up on the horse, and you regretted everything you had said. He did have a point, you hadn’t really thought of that.
“I… suppose you’re right.” You mutter.
“I don’t have to be doing any of this,” He grabs your hand, holding it in his and uses his other hand to halt the horse. The three of you pause in the field between the beach and the castle. There had been a downgrade so you were mostly hidden but you could still the upper-towers of the palace. He looks up and you, and you find yourself wishing you could see his eyes again. “But I do because I’m… fond of you.” It sounds like he’s having a hard time getting the words out, but that isn’t very uncommon for him. Your heart flares up, this was the first time he had ever admitted anything like that.
“W-what?” You ask, sounding like a fool.
“I know, it’s crazy. How could a halfwit like myself deserve a Princess like you?” He chuckles under his breath. “Maybe the elf laid a spell on me, I don’t know. But I do know that ever since I was given the duty of protecting you, my life has been different.” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “I’ve… I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I don’t know what it is but I-I-“ You smile fondly, and use his hand to hop off the horse. You bring your hands up to hold the back of his neck.
“It’s not a spell.” You whisper. “I feel it too.”
“Then it’s a spell on both of us.”
“Maybe.” You move your hands up to his helmet, desperately wanting to remove it, but you remember what you told yourself the other day. If he wishes to show you his face, it should be his choice, he deserves to be the one to take the beskar off. You would respect that. Instead, you just run your fingertips along the lip of the helmet, looking into the visor enchantingly. “Then it would be a wonderful spell.”
His hands find their way to your waist, hugging you to his chest. You rest or head on his shoulder and just close your eyes, feeling his chest plate move with each breath. It’s so still, the summer breeze softly runs through the tall grass. You can hear the waves gently hugging the beach, and the two of you just stand there like that. Completely alone, the only companionship being one another and a mindlessly-grazing horse. No one to interrupt. No doors to lock. No Princes to lie to. No thieves to fight. Just the two of you. If you could stay in that moment for the rest of your life, you would. In the earlier days of your relationship, you used to worry you wouldn’t like what his face looked like, worried that he might be unattractive to you. But every selfish desire you had about his physical appearance dissolved with the wind. No matter what he looked like, or what his past was, or what his name was, you didn’t care. You didn’t care because he cared for you, and you cared for him, too.
Before you can soak in the moment any longer, you’re swiftly grabbing his wrist, and tugging him towards the beach. The stillness of the moment is lost, but you’re quickly giggling as he’s chasing you down the small slope to the beach. You pull your skirt up as far as you can so you don’t trip on it, and find yourself being unable to slow down before the hill meets the shore. The soil slowly becomes more and more sandy, and your feet are bolting against uneven land towards teal, clear water. Before you can reach the ocean, however, strong hands are wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against the Knight’s chest. You can hear the low rumble of chuckling in his throat, and you have the biggest, dorkiest smile of all time on your face. He spins the two of you around a few times before setting you back down on the beach.
You’re out of breath from running, and your hair is already untidy from the unexpected change of direction. The wind blows it just softly, letting it pull away from your face and neck. He tucks one rogue strand behind your ear, and then cups your face. You hadn’t even realized he’s been gloveless this entire time. You close your eyes and rest your cheek into him. You turn your head ever-so-slightly to kiss his palm, laying a sweet and innocent peck to his calloused skin.
You wonder if he’s hot with all that armor on. If you were too warm with a dress, only he knows what it’s like to have to spend summers so formally.
He’s the one to pull away, walking towards the water. You follow him, and the two of you stand against the tide. You kick your shoes off and pull your dress up again. Stepping into the water. You giggle at the tickle of the sand and smile at the feeling of the warm water against your ankles. He watches you fondly with his arms crossed. The water in Corellia is never this warm, and you throw your head back in bliss, breathing in the salty air. This was the happiest you had ever been since you arrived in Mandalore. The break from all the rules and customs was very needed, and you soaked in the sound of the waves, a distant call of a gull, and the wind keeping your hair out of your face. The best part was the fact that you were experiencing it with the Knight. There is no other person you would rather spend this memory with. You bite your lip and close your eyes and you never want to leave, you want to stay here forever. You hear the sound of metal clinking behind you, and something heavy hitting the sand. You turn to look at the Knight, who had discarded most of his armor. His boots have been carefully set next to one another, and beside them were his pauldrons, wrist guards, thigh plates and breastplate. The chainmail was the next thing to be removed, leaving him in only the dark-brown underclothes. His trousers were heavy duty, covered in various pockets and made out of thick material, but his tunic was a thin material, still long sleeved, but flowy, allowing the fresh, summer breeze to run through the fabric. The two items of clothing were held together by a pair of black suspenders, and the entire ensemble made him oh so… human.
You had only seen him with all his armor on before, and witnessing his shell being removed was both humbling and inspiring. The armor added quite a bit of bulk to his stature, it rounded out his shoulders, boosted his posture, and broadened him out. That was the first thing you noticed about him on the first day you arrived, he was ample in size and it made you feel so primal and safe. Despite his smaller stature without the armor, he wasn’t one bit less attractive to you. He was still the same guy who you were slowly falling for and didn’t even know it. But as he cuffed up his trousers and rolled back his shoulders, you felt so comfortable in his presence. He wasn’t just a mass of armor and creeds and rules, no, he was just a man. He was a single father, a guy who doesn’t know the first thing about dancing, and a boy born across the world in the Nevarro frontier. He was just a man.
You couldn’t stop the warm feeling in your chest that came with this thought. Everything about him was far more simple than you initially thought.
He walked towards you, and you held out your hand for him to take. He laces his fingers with yours as he steps into the shallow water with you. Your dress drops, dipping into the water and getting wet but you can’t even be mad about it. Your smile is big as his hand tightly grasped yours, the two of you looking out at the horizon.
“When I was a boy-” he begins, his voice quiet, “I wanted to live on the sea. Join a ship crew and travel the waters. There was always something so adventurous about that thought.” He shares. You turn to look at him as he speaks, studying the contour of the helmet with your eyes.
“What stopped you?” You ask, not entirely sure if he would share, but this time he was the one to start the conversation, and you felt like he might this time.
He sighs, you see it, he turns to look at you, the two of you staring at one another as the temperature slowly dropped with the sun on the horizon. “I was orphaned when I was only five.” He shrugs, your heart breaks. “It was one of the Mandalorian wars that caused it.”
You can’t imagine what it’s like having to serve a kingdom so intimately when they were responsible for the death of your family. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, letting him know that you’re here for him. “I’m sorry.” You whisper.
“It’s not your fault, it was so long ago I don’t really remember it.” He looks down at the water.
“Thank you, for sharing that with me.” You smile apologetically. You really did appreciate that he felt comfortable enough to share something so serious with you. While you were grateful that he had begun to open up to you, it still didn’t answer any of the questions about Mandalore’s past, and what Koska was referring to a few days ago. It didn’t tell you what his past job was and why he’s serving the royal family now. However, you supposed it didn’t really matter, not right now, not today.
After a little minute of listening to the waves, he reaches down into the water, picking up a flat, thin rock. He runs his pointer finger along the edge, outlining the shape before hatching it into the space between his index finger and thumb, reeling back, and flicking it out so it hopped over the water’s surface seven or eight times before falling in. You looked at him enchanted, like he had just expressed a magic trick to a bright-eyed child.
“How did you do that?” You ask in awe.
“You’ve never seen anyone skip a rock?” He asks. You slowly shake your head. You’ve been cooped up inside a wintry castle your entire life, of course you haven’t.
“Teach me.” You say a little too forcefully. He chuckles and looks down at the sand, looking for a pebble that might work. He bends down eventually, and picks out a similar looking rock to the original.
“So, you want a rock that’s thin and flat, like this one.” He shows you the sediment. You reach your hand out, taking it and outlining the edge of the stone with your finger similar to how he did. He walks behind you, sloshing in the water but eventually gaining position. He wraps his left arm around your waist, and cups your right hand which holds the rock in his. “Now, don’t throw it quite yet, okay?”
“Alright.”
“You’re gonna flick your wrist like this,” he motions both of your hands at the same time, pulling back and then shooting forward quickly. He does it two or three times before speaking up again. “You’ll use your pointer finger to pull back like the trigger on a crossbow, it will give the rock enough spin that it stays on top of the water.” He makes you do the motion along with him a few times again. “Your shoulders will draw back almost like you’re pulling back an arrow on a bow.” Again, he does the motion with you, your back flush to his chest. You admired that he was able to relate everything to weaponry. He definitely knew his way around combat, that was apparent to you. “Then, you add all three motions together, aim for the horizon, and-“ he pulls back with you and before you know it, the rock is spiraling out of your hand and onto the surface of the ocean. It doesn’t skip, though, and instead plops right into the water.
You frown and look back at him. “What did I do wrong?” You ask, you knew he would know what needed to change.
“You didn’t flick your finger enough. Try again.” He pulls another stone out with a grunt, and holds you against his body to pull back and send another rock out. This one skips once before plopping into the water again. You sigh out, frustrated. “Here, try without me.” He says after handing you a third flat stone. You carefully practice the motion once, desperately wanting to impress him. You then pull back and give it everything you got, only for the stone to plop in without skipping at all again.
“Ugh, lemme try again.” You say angrily. You can hear him laughing at you, but you ignore it, ready to try again and determined to get it right this time.
You must have thrown four more rocks after that with no results. Each time he tried giving you just a little more advice about different things, “Follow through” or “You had too much spin that time”. You were starting to get really frustrated, having never had to really work for anything in your life before, and you knew he was starting to have a hard time finding flat rocks. You would not give up on this.
“Maybe we can try again next time-“
“No.” You say forcefully, “We do not leave this beach until I skip a damn rock, so if you want to be back in time for your evaluation with Vizsla, I suggest you find me another rock.” You raise an eyebrow as you pull out your diplomatic royal voice. He holds his hands back in defense and then tosses you the stone he already had waiting for you. You sigh when you catch it, taking a deep breath and remembering all your training. Don’t spin too much, follow through, add all three motions together, have faith.
You pull back the stone, praying that it will all go according to plan because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take failure. You pick out your target with your eyes before adding together all the advice given to you and sending it. You can hardly believe your eyes when you see it skip at least five times over the water. You cheer out in accomplishment and look over at the Knight, smiling big and triumphant. He runs through the water to you, shouting with you.
“I knew you could do it!” He grabs your waist, congratulating you. You giggle out of achievement. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He asks.
You roll your eyes and playfully punch his arm (which luckily this time was not covered by pain-inflicting chainmail). “A lot easier than having to dodge your hits.” You admit.
“I’m proud of you.”
“It’s just a rock skip?” You wonder why he would be proud of you for that and ask yourself if you really are that pathetic.
“Yes but you put your mind to it and did it! I know some guys in the royal guard who would have given up on their third try, but you didn’t!”
“I was just trying to impress you.” You sheepishly chuckle.
“We’ll consider myself: Impressed.” He laughs and you blush.
“They don’t teach royals that.”
“Well of course not, I learned how to do that from the guy who took me in after my parents died. You picked it up much faster than I did.” He nods and you smile again.
The two of you catch your breath from the exuberant laughing, but you aren’t able to enjoy the still moment because all too quick it all comes crashing down quickly when he’s pushing you into the water. It isn’t very deep, but the unexpected soak makes you yelp out in surprise. Your initial reaction is to be frustrated, but you can hear him chuckling by your side and you can’t help but mischievously smiling in response. He’s standing, still dry with a hand over his stomach as he laughs at you. You roll your eyes before reaching up to pull him in with you, he yelps out stupefied as he’s splashing down into the tide next to you. You laugh out at him, sitting up in the water which is about waist deep. He wipes some water away from his visor and then splashes you, swatting a handful of the ocean at your face. Your laughing immediately halts from a mouthful of salt water. Your slight makeup washes off, and your hair is starting to get wet, too. You look over at him with a frown before copying his action and spraying him right back. He laughs at you, and you remember that you can’t win this. He has a helmet to keep his eyes clear from the water. You groan out of frustration, and wipe your eyes dry. He’s just looking at you, panting. His clothes were soaked now. You crawl to be closer to him in the water, which thank goodness it wasn’t too cold because you’d be rushing to get out, but the summer weather made it enjoyable to just sit there together.
[SMUT BEGINS HERE]
You’re next to him, running your fingers lightly up and down his right arm, looking at him fondly. He catches his breath, and brings his wet hand up to cup your face again. You close your eyes, hoping he takes the hint, which he does because a few seconds have your eyes are closed, his arm his pulling away from your touch against it and his lips are pressing into yours. You can tell he completely took the helmet off this time, which means he would take his time kissing you instead of a quick peck to shut you up.
The two of you sit in the water of the Mandalorian Ocean, both of his hands reaching up to hold you as he kisses each eyelid as if to say “keep ‘em closed”, before moving to your lips passionately. His left hand holding your cheek while his right hand finds its place on the back of your neck, pulling you into him. You breathe deeply as he practically devours you, his lips moving hungrily. Your hands find their way to his thighs in the water, running your palms up and down the strong muscle, making sure to take notice of the healing wound on his upper-thigh. Your hands eventually find their way to the waistband of his pants, running your fingers under them to pull out the tuck of the tunic. Fingernails come out of the water and up soft abs that flinch at the stroke. It’s hard to work around the suspenders, but you’re able to still run your hands over his torso, getting to know his body for the first and hopefully not the last) time. He has a few scars, you can feel the fresh tissue under your fingers and wonder what caused them. He’s still kissing you, his left hand moves down to hold your jaw and you keep your eyes tightly shut out of fear of this ending too quickly. The kissing noises are obscene, wet and needy amongst the sound of the waves. The Knight licks into your mouth, his tongue hot and forceful as it explores your mouth, you can taste the lust on his lips, and you happily welcome the sensation.
His right hand works around the way your gown has flared out in the water and eventually wraps itself around your ass, pulling you up onto his lap. You’re mostly out of the water now, just your shins being completely submerged. You’re slightly weighed down by the added weight of a wet skirt, but you sit comfortably on the guards lap, your hands coming up to wrap around his neck, kissing him from above now. The kiss is forced down, and this time you’re able to lick into his mouth, nibbling his lip and deepening the kiss further from the angle. You can’t help your hands from cupping his face now, pulling him into you.
Your noses rub into one another, and both of his arms lift you up from behind. Your back arches into him, and your breathing hitches, getting heavier and hotter. He starts to get hard, you feel it under your body, and a mixture of the kissing and the pressure beginning to press into your cunt is really starting to turn you on. You start to just softly grind against him, moaning a little bit at the feeling of his growing cock against your heat. His hands help you, making the humping motion more smooth and natural. The kissing becomes sloppy now, and the water from the wet bodice is making your nipples just that much harder.
Your hands are reaching down to slide the suspenders off his shoulders, and then you’re pulling his shirt up and unhooking the trousers. Your hand is reaching in and finding the base of his hardening, thick length. He groans at your touch, and you’re bending down to kiss his neck, sucking deep, purple hickeys into his golden skin. You’re needy, still grinding against him and trying not let the water slow you down. He’s sighing breathy moans and grunts in your ear as you start jerking him off. The water does make it hard, but there’s something about the added sensation of the flowing water that really made it unique. You swipe your thumb over the head a few times, getting drunk with the unexpected control you have. This was the first time the two of you have fooled around that you really got to have total dominance. You liked it… you really liked.
He did too.
Your clit is able to rut so slightly and deliciously into your fist and his cock, and you’re having a hard time not letting your eyes open and flutter in pleasure. The same shocks of ecstasy ran up and down your spine, and he held you closer to his body, using his strong hands to cup your ass and knead the soft skin. You’re panting, your free hand reaches down to rub your clit, both of your hands working in between your legs as you straddle the Knight. You’re going to cum already and can’t believe it’s happening so fast but choose not to hold it back. You’re moaning out loud when you cum against your fingers, graining against his lap fast and squeezing his cock a little harder.
“Fuck, did you just cum?” He asks deep in his voice, growling in your ear. You hum out in response against his neck pathetically, and all dominance you previously possessed dissolves as you keep jerking off your Knight. “Dirty girl, kiss me. Keep those pretty eyes closed.” His throat is dry, which you remember from last time that that means he’s close, too. You reach up to kiss him again, going in tongue first and breathing in his scent deeply. One of his hands reaches around to cup yours that is working his length, holding it and adding pressure and then making you go faster, you happily oblige and soon the pace is quick and he’s grunting against your lips. He cums in your hand, you feel the heat of it. He’s panting and sighing and it’s all so hot you think you could get turned on by it again.
He rests his head on your shoulder after cumming, catching his breath. You take your hand out of the water and you tangle your fingers through his hair, toying with the curls as he sighs against your wet skin. You open your eyes now, looking out at the horizon, lashes heavy with lust.
[SMUT ENDS HERE]
“Gross.” You chuckle.
“You liked it.” He hums against your collar bone. His hands are steadfast on your lower back, holding you there against his chest. He doesn’t have the cold breastplate separating the two of you, so your hearts were pressed against one another, beating in perfect synch. You could also finally feel how warm his body was, despite the wet clothes and gentle waves. In your peripheral, you can see some of the brown curls.
Your heart warms, this might be the happiest you have ever been. The two of you must have sat like that for a long time because your skin was starting to prune and your hair was slowly drying with the wind. His breathing had completely calmed, and he was so still and quiet that just for a moment you wondered if he had fallen asleep. The sun was almost down completely, only a little sliver of it peaking over the water. You watched it as it fell to its resting place in the ocean, the sky still blazing oranges and yellows but cooling with a soft, pale blue from the top down. It was so… serene, so peaceful. Nothing like the crashing waves of Corellia. This was the best part of Mandalore yet. It’s saving grace.
The crescent moon is on the horizon when he’s turning to kiss your ear one more time and asking you to close your eyes as he pulls the helmet back on.
“We should probably get back, I don’t want to be late for Vizsla and I’m afraid I’ve started to lose track of time.” He stands up and holds his hand out for you to take. You attempt to hoist yourself up out of the water, but the wet dress has added so much weight that you can’t lift your legs up. You grunt in effort, but there’s no budging. “Huh, looks like we need to take that thing off.”
“Again?” You look up at him, you knew he had a smug smirk under all that beskar. You reach behind you to undo the corset just enough for you to step out of it, water dripping from your undergarment as he yanks you up and out of the warm water. “I’m starting to think you just really like seeing me naked.” You mutter and don’t realize how close you were to him while saying that until after. You catch your tongue, holding your breath as he looks down at you.
“Yeah, something like that.” He mumbles in response and you believe you could faint and die right then and there. He doesn’t let the moment stew for nearly as long as you would have liked for it, however and he’s pulling the sopping wet dress out of the water and carrying it back on shore. He hands it to you when he gets to his armor, and you try ringing some of the liquid out from the fabric but it’s almost too heavy for you to even hold in your arms. He re-assembles his gear on top of the wet clothes and you know that can’t be comfortable. Sand clings to your bare, wet feet, and you're desperately trying to brush some of it off before slipping your shoes back on. He’s resituated too fast, he has dressing his armor down to a perfection and you’re sad to see your beach adventure come to a close so quickly.
Before you know it, he’s walking up the hill again with you by his side, making your ways to Clove who has been diligently and patiently chewing on the grass in the field this entire time.
“Ride with me.” You ask as he helps you onto the palomino. “Please.” You ask. “We’ll get to the palace faster and then maybe you can get out of those wet clothes before you have to go to the meeting.” You ask. He sighs but then nods with a shrug, hoisting himself onto the horse behind you. You were riding normally now, and situated yourself comfortably into his chest. The wet gown lay on the back of the horse and you wished you had thought about removing that before getting into the water.
As the two of you start a gentle gallop to the palace, you feel your hair get drier. At one moment he reaches his hand up to run bare fingers over your healing bicep.
“We should have kept this out of the water.” He says in your ear. You twist your head back to reply.
“It’s okay, really. It’s starting to feel a lot better.” You reassure.
“It looks better, but the salt water can only do bad things to it.” He explains. You shrug, unsure of how he expects you to respond.
The three of you arrive at the castle just as the sky begins to darken, both of you still damp from the ocean but your hearts still full and bodies still riding the orgasm high. The Knight helps you off the horse, and now that you aren’t alone, you feel very aware that you’re only in your undergarments and really anyone could see you. You pull the wet gown off the rump of Clove, which was so saturated that it made his fur wet. You hold it against your body, trying to cover yourself up as much as possible. The Knight removes the saddle of the horse, storing it away and removing the bit. He stretches the beast’s ears and then walks over to the far side of the stable to grab a carrot out of a bucket before handing it to Clove as a reward for his hard work. You watch him as he expertly takes care of the animal, like he’s done it a thousand times before.
Then, with no warning, the two of you hear the shrill voice of none other than Koska Reeves.
“I shouldn’t have let you go.” She’s crossing over the dirt courtyard to the stables. Her hair has been done now, put up into the customary braids they usually are in. She was now wearing the royal blue color reserved for the Queen’s court, a golden sash sitting on her hips. She held the dress above her feet and she hustled in your direction. You felt scared, you knew Koska meant business, and was not afraid to scold. She was intimidating, to say the least. “You’re soaking wet.” She gasps when she gets to the stable fence. “Come with me, Princess. We must get you changed before anyone sees you or the Queen will have my head.” She sighs, opening the gate for you to walk through. “As for you, Vizsla’s here early.”
“What.” You heard the drop in his voice from panic. “Why?”
“No one knew, he just arrived before we could do any regular welcoming. The evaluation is starting in ten minutes, I suggest you move your ass.” She shakes her head. You were incredibly thankful you had both rode Clove now. He wouldn’t have made it back in time if you hadn’t. You did feel a twinge of guilt, however. You shouldn’t have pushed for that so much and risked him missing his mandatory meeting. But an overwhelming part of you was more than happy that you got to experience those few hours alone with him. He swears under his breath before bowing to you, shrugging apologetically and then full sprinting towards the servant quarter’s entrance. “I would take that from you,” Koska says in reference to the wet dress, “But I’m already in my ceremonial dress. I can’t get it wet. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I can manage.” You nod. The two of you begin to walk back inside, and the night time breeze runs over your wet body, making you shudder ever-so-slightly. When you get back inside, the Knight is nowhere to be seen, and there’s only a fraction of the people as there were earlier. The masks had all been moved somewhere, which let you know they finished them. A mother sat on a chair by the fireplace, nursing a small baby and three young boys who couldn’t be any older than seventeen all sat around one table playing some type of card game and eating buttered bread. They were the stable boys. The three of them stared at you when you walked in, in awe of your unparalleled beauty and the fact that you were carrying a massive, heavy, wet dress.
Koska led you down a hall adjacent to the fireplace. You could see into a few sleeping quarters. The little ones were dozing off, and in one room was a couple laughing together. The small community that existed underneath the palace was something you deeply admired. You wouldn’t have had any idea any of this was here if you hadn’t pushed for today’s events, and you truly loved it. You loved how all these people found refuge and a home here.
You wished you could, too.
Koska stops at one door, taking the wet dress out of your hands and tossing it into the room before closing the wooden door shut and progressing back down the hallway. She eventually opens up a door to a small room with a single bed and large chest.
“Is this your room?” You ask, looking around and familiarizing yourself with it. A single embroidery hoop with a half-done pattern sat on the bed, on the windowsill was a melting candle whose wax had dried in a cascading pattern on the ancient stone, and at the foot of the bed was a small table with a wash basin and hairpins.
“No, It’s my sister’s. My room is closer to the Queen’s.” She nods. You had no clue Koska had a sister. She opens up the chest and pulls out a dry under-slip and simple but pretty purple dress. It wasn’t a ballgown and had long, bell sleeves in a similar fashion to Koska’s. There was some moon and star embroidery on the bodice.
“I didn’t know you had a sister.” You said, starting to shiver a little now.
“Her name is Alva, she works in the kitchen.” She nods as she crosses over to the table, opening up a little box to pull out a horse-hair comb.
“Will she mind us using her things?”
“Well, you’re the Princess, so I hope not.” She shrugs and crosses over the room again like a madwoman, pulling a wool blanket from the chest. “Here, strip and dry off.” You look at her, confused. “Alright… I’ll turn around then.” Koska rolls her eyes and turns to face the wall. You peel off the wet slip, and use the wool material to wipe your body dry. It wasn’t nearly as soft and luxurious as the cotton robes you have five floors up, but it will do for now. You have sand everywhere, and you mean everywhere. You brush it off as best you can, hoping it doesn’t make too much of a mess for anyone to have to clean. You then pull on the dry clothes, and clear your throat when you’re done and decent.
Koska turns around and smiles. “Sit, I’ll brush your hair for you and then escort you back upstairs to see your parents.”
You had completely forgotten that they would be arriving tonight. You get a twinge of adrenaline. You’ve been so homesick, and it will be nice to see some familiar faces after such an emotional two weeks. You sit at the stool in front of the table, and Koska carefully combs out your knotted but drying hair.
“So… It looks like you two had fun.” She says. You smile and blush.
“Yes, we did.” You chuckle.
“That’s good, it’s been so long since he’s had fun. He deserves it.” She hums in response and you immediately question how they know one another so well again.
“How do you know each other?” You ask, knowing there's no harm in that.
Koska sighs, “We… used to work together in a sense. He’s a good man, an even better father.” She shrugs. So that’s four people you can think of who know about his son, You, Koska, Peli and the woman from Isla’s bar… although that situation seemed different, magical almost.
“You two never…” You trail off, not really wanting to hear the answer but not stopping yourself before you ask it anyways.
Koska laughs out loud this time, stopping the combing motion, “Oh stars, no. Never. I have someone else… and he has you.”
Your heart warms at that phrase. “Who is this ‘someone else’ you speak of?” You ask, enjoying the casual girl talk the two of you are sharing.
She hums again, “You’ve met her, she’s shorter than me and far more serious, she has a fire burning, but she’s special to me.” You can hear the smile in Koska’s tone.
You wonder who she’s talking about.
—
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#more to love#din djarin#din djarin x you#pedro pascal#the mandalorian#fan fiction#reader insert#star wars#din djarin fluff#din djarin smut#din djarin x reader#mando x reader#mando fluff#mando smut#mando x you#royalcore#royalty au#royalty#princesscore#princess x bodyguard#princess reader#knight x princess#pedro pascal fic#star wars fanfiction#no y/n#Pedro pascal smut#star wars au#the mandalorian smut#knight din djarin
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possibly underappreciated Good Omens fics I enjoyed once upon a time
Indirectly inspired by a video series about fanfiction I watched, I decided to pull together a list of Good Omens fics I have bookmarked as stories I enjoyed, but which have less than 250-300 kudos at the time I’m writing this. No particular order. They’re accompanied by short excerpts from my private fic reading notes (not originally intended to be read by anyone but me, mind), sometimes slightly edited for clarity—and, sometimes, the comments I left on the fics.
This list sat in my drafts for a long time and the recent S2 announcement reminded me of it. I’d love it if it inspired you to do something similar! Spread the love.
And mind the tags, please.
△ = general and teen
▲ = mature and explicit
thermodynamic equilibrium
▲ 7K
the author has such an ear for dialogue and is unapologetic about what they want to write the characters like. They think of the characters as a mix of TV and book canon, but they feel like a homemade blend to me. (...) It’s very funny.
such dear follies
▲ 6K
I can really picture this Aziraphale—Crowley as well, but her especially. She’s rather distinct. (...) Nice writing.
The Words Were With -
△ 1.2K
post-Blitz vignette, Aziraphale realizes what he feels and wonders if they're human enough for this. I liked it, and I liked the tag "transhumanism, but in reverse?", too—what an interesting idea. I'd say it's a vignette in a dire need of a follow-up, but, well, there's the show. The show is the follow-up. It fits very nicely within the canon and I totally believe it could have happened, like a deleted scene.
Gossip and Good Counsel
△ 19K/?
I love their companionship and how they're set up to be opposites by the management even though they get on pretty well. It feels very in keeping with the canon, but I feel like the fact that it's an F/F set in this particular time period adds a meaningful layer to the situation. It's women supporting each other in the world of men, working with the personas that are created for them, but, privately, being normal, well-rounded people. (...) and of course your writing is always a pleasure to read. (...) SDHDGDHDHDG Maisie is truly an Aziraphale.
Crowley Went Down to Georgia (he was looking for a soul to steal)
△ 6K
This was nice. Based on a song I didn’t know. Crowley goes to a funeral in the USA, one of a fiddler he knew and lost a bet to once. (...) The fic has not one but two songs composed for it and embedded inside it and that makes it even better. I really enjoyed the experience.
The Thing With Feathers
△ 18K
WARLOCK you'rE HORRIBLE AND I LOVE IT I would read an entire novel-length fic just of Crowley fighting his battles with Warlock. Written like this? It would be a blast. (...) The OCs are believably characterized and well-loved by the story. (...) Everyone seems to need a friend in this house. (...) This was so fun, and at the same time, their mission has weight here (...) We wonder about what the future holds even though we know it.
Here Quiet Find
△ 11K
This fic aimed for my head and the aim was sure precise. It was a story of Crowley sensing Aziraphale's distress and finding him in a self-quarantined English village in the seventeenth century, tired and anxious. It's hurt/comfort, so there was washing and bedsharing and I had to love it, so I did.
outside of time
△ 2K
Post-Almostgeddon, (...) nicely-written, short, but strung with a soft kind of tension and unspoken words. There's no drama, just "can we really", and "do you really" of sudden freedom. They fall into being inseparable. Book canon, which I like for this story (sitting on a tarmac). I liked the footnotes. There's a mention of Eliot. All in all, very much yes.
She'asani Yisrael
△ 2K
It’s Crowley going through a two-hour service and drinking blessed wine. He also keeps an eye on a boy he was asked to. It’s 1946. It was pretty good, so far the best Jewish GO fic, I think, from the ones I’ve read.
To Guard The Eastern Gate
△ 11K
I loved it. You really made Sodom feel lived-in; the description of Keret, Hurriya and Yassib's house and relationship were great. I got attached to both them and the city (...) Aziraphale and Crawley’s interactions were generally very entertaining. I laughed (...) Your rendering of their voices just lands so well (...) But then oh, the entire ending (...) hurt, hurt a lot, and your descriptions are so vivid.
If you’ve been waiting (for falling in love)
△ 14K
AAAAA a good ending line. The whole paragraph, in fact. I love a good smattering of philosophy in my fics, and this was really nice. I can get behind Thomas Aequinus's and Crowley's view on eternity. It's (...) a pretty simple fic (...) - the courage to express yourself and take a risk is awarded with winning what was at stake by the virtue of reciprocity - but the way it was intertwined with a study of how they would experience a forever was done well.
Holy unnecessary
▲ 2.2K
It's well-written. (...) this is my type of sexual humour if I have any. So subtle. Blink and you'll miss it. Lovely.
The Parting Glass
△ 17K
Through the ages, they're dancing around their relationship until after the Armageddoff. (...) Wow, this was really, really nice. Very simple in its concept and nothing I haven't read before, but very well-executed. (...) AAAAH I LOVED the first chapter. I always like abbeys as settings, that's a given, but the banter, the good writing, the moral ambiguity!
Name The Sky
△ 33K
This Crowley is different, but very intriguing. Without his sarcastic talk, and much more animalistic. (...) I love how expressive Crowley is. (...) This fic has a very nice balance of drama and levity. I don't love Crowley-before-the-Fall stories very much, but with this execution I can read about it. (...) Okay I've read Crowley offering fruits, and even Aziraphale biting fruits, but the two of them sharing the apple? Outstanding. Ingenious. What a take.
A Flame in Your Heart
△ 5K
post-Blitz (why are so many dance fics post-Blitz?), they go to the bookshop and have an actually believable conversation. Then they dance the gavotte. It was really nice! Believable writing, emotions, the dancing! (...) Of course it's too early for them, (...) but the author's note? yeah.
Put down the apple, Adam, and come away with me
▲ 32K
At this point it's just reading original stories with characters with names and some personality traits that I recognize. (...) I really enjoy this, the careful dance, the opposition between their views. (...) This is well-written, wow. (...) it's not an easy read (...) this story feels very believably 50s, but also reaches out to the present time.
Liebestraum
▲ 10K/?
It really is like music. I'm enjoying the writing a lot. (...) oh my actual god. This, this? Wow, uh. This came for my throat. (...) THE MUSICAL COMPOSITION, THE MOTIF RETURNING, THE AUTHOR KNOWS WHERE IT'S AT (...) Excellent. This hits the right beats so precisely, (...) and with feeling, too.
Down Comforter
△ 2.4K
and they lay down in angeldown, a soft rug ‘neath their heads– alright. Well, Crowley lies under Aziraphale's wing on a Persian rug after the Apocalypse, and they talk (...). It was sweet.
The Corsair of Carcosa
△ 5K
Crowley wakes up from a nap, visits Aziraphale for some drinking, and they read The King in Yellow that he happens to own. Good writing, so I'm bought. Aziraphale mentions Beardsley, so I'm bought twice over. My god, a discussion of etheral/occult madness? Caused by some wrong/true reading? Yes.
Very Good, Omens!
△ 6K
It's rather well-written, well-pastiched. People don't do that too often, nowadays - try to write in the style of a particular writer. (...) I love wordplay like this.
Reviving Robin Hood: The Complicated Process of Crème Brûlée
△ 30K
it's well-written (...), has a rhythm to it, and quiet humour. (...) Finally some nice, good, light writing. The attention to detail! (...) I'm still reading most of it aloud, the rhythm of it compels me to. (...) okay this does sound like Pratchett&Gaiman, the Good Omens itself (...) The fic is meandering, hilarious, sensitive in all the right places, and overall lovely.
my dear acquaintance
△ 1K
Oh. Oh. Yes, yes! Aziraphale in Russia, Russia I've never been in, but I can feel the snow and the evening of. Very real, and the bar, too. Attention to detail - vodka flavoured with dill, what on earth? Yes. He would totally have a distinct taste in operas and he would totally complain about a subpar one. I'm glad Tchaikovsky's there.
there is a crack in everything
△ 1.8K
This was good! Ah. Inspired by a comment (...), I went looking for Mr. Harrison and Mr. Cortese fics—really, what a big brain moment someone had and why have I never thought to look for them? This is Crowley getting suddenly anxious and Aziraphale going out of his way, through all his layers of not-thinking and denial, to console him. I also really liked how the Arrangement is a carefully unacknowledged partnership-marriage.
Scales And Gold And Wings And Scars
△ 6K
No conflict, no plot, one tiny arc like a ripple on the surface of water on a calm sunny day - of Aziraphale discovering Crowley’s scars. It's the South Downs and it's early summer. They bask and swim in a spring. Non-sexual nudity, love in the air like a scent. Nice.
Nineteen Footnotes In Search Of A Story
△ 0.4K
This is a Good Omens story told only through footnotes. Your mind can fill in the gaps. Fascinating (...). Also, it’s an experiment so apt for this particular fandom.
Hell on Earth
△ 6.5K
Oh, I loved it! How could I not love it: it's Beelzebub-centric, it's historical, it has classical painting, and even a hilarious scene with a cuneiform phrase, as if I didn't enjoy this story enough already. There are so few Beelzebub fics out there and I find searching for them very difficult (I accept recs if anyone has any), and it's such a shame, so this was really like a gift to the fandom. I absolutely adore the way you portrayed them, small, frightening, powerful, and confident. Also, it was super fun to see how different Crowley seems when we're not in his POV or in a story about him and Aziraphale. (...)
Go Up to Ramoth-Gilead and Triumph
△ 24K
Daegaer is... pure class. (...) hdhdhdh what pfttt why you so funny (...) I love this Crowley. (...) This got unexpectedly intense. (...) I love the little nods to the fact that Israelites, especially the poorer ones, still believe in other gods. I also really like that they sleep on roofs. It's just the kind of detail that grounds the story and shows that the author is, in fact, a historian.
#good omens#good omens fic rec#fanfiction#fic rec#idanit reads#i also have a multifannish F/F rec list in the works#all my bookmarks are private but i feel the need to share the love
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