#she's a queen you should all go and listen to her
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Winter's King 24
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
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Before you get too far, Bryce appears from the shadows. You don't know if he was listening or if he's only stumbled on you but it hardly matters. He offers only a sullen look, too meek to mention the tension that stands between you. He left you first to King Geralt, then Lord Vesemir; he's more their ally than your own. But what can a maid expect?
"I am to return to the queen's service," you state matter-of-fact.
"So I've been informed," he says grimly. "Perhaps you might quell her restlessness."
You stop along the corridor as your surroundings grow familiar. You’re halt and sway as the soldier scuffs to a stop a few steps ahead of you. He turns to face you as you unclasp the cloak from around your shoulders. You drag it away from your form.
“Sir, will you hold this for me,” you fold it over your arm and offer it to him, “I shouldn’t require it during my work.”
He looks at it and takes it with a frown. He pets the soft fur around the neck as you catch a peek of the wolf’s badge sewn into the lining. You lift your head and look past him.
“I will make sure it is not lost,” he promises.
Your dread mounts with each step. You’re weighed down by the last day and all that’s come to light. You cannot shake the shackles newly clasped around your wrists and the links only draw tighter and tighter. For now, the danger has calmed but it will not dissipate entirely. There is only doom ahead, even if now, it remains obscure.
You will have no safety, not even in the familiar; not even in your duty. How can you keep on in serving when you are at the same deceiving?
Jazlene, once Lady, now Queen, has rarely been easy to calm. You've come to expect her virulent behaviour, never once forsaking her the habits inherited from her mother. Now, you fear her fiery emotions and what wrath she may rain upon you should your betrayal be discovered. It almost seems wiser to confess and be done with it all, yet your fear restrains your guilt.
As you come upon the queen's chamber doors, you give pause, as does the soldier at your side. You share a curious look between you. There are no guards at her door.
"Gods, I beg, do not tell me she has escaped once more," Bryce mutters.
You step ahead of him and go to the door. You turn your ear to it and lean in, dragging your palms along the wood. You ball your hand and rap upon it, certain you hear some sound from within. There is scuffling and the queen's trite voice. She is within.
You peer back over your shoulder at your escort as he squints. The door opens from within and you spin back. It's that orange-haired guard; Gilles. It’s odd and the noise that escapes Bryce’s throat says as much.
“Queen having another tantrum?” The soldier behind you scoffs.
“Eh, she is your queen too,” Gilles accuses, “it is treason to mock your liege.”
“Mocking? No, merely the truth,” Bryce chirps, “let the maid in. She’ll do better work of serving our admirable queen, eh? Tend to her lady needs with a softer hand.”
Gilles grabs your arm and shoves you through the door, “do not worry her--”
“Eh!” You feel another tug and you’re turned back as Bryce tears the guard away from you, “unhand her. She is but a maid. If you need feel big, you might go squash insects in the stables, yea?”
“Be wary of crossing me, king’s pet,” Gilles pushes away the other soldier, “I do not fear any old man, no matter his name.”
“Young twerp like you, I’ve known many,” Bryce stands unflinching, “my name comes from tossing fools like you in the dirt. Don’t think the years have taken that much.”
“The maid is a maid, as you say. She hardly needs a guard herself,” the carrot-headed man rebukes.
“And you hardly need the witness, eh,” the soldier sneers and chortles, “heed your own warning, man, you dance in a pit of snakes.”
“I am the snake,” Gilles makes himself as big as he can but pales against the taller soldier.
Bryce pokes his tongue in his cheek and smirks. He doesn’t reply, instead looking past the younger man, “maid, attend your duty and I’ll attend my own.”
“Sir Bryce,” you utter tremulously.
“Don’t worry for me,” he assures as his gaze returns to the man before him. “I’ve sworn never to draw steel against a man of the crown, and I shan’t, so long as the man in question does not offer doubt to that title. We are allies,” he slaps Gilles’ arm, his other hand on his pommel, “aren’t we, loyal guard?”
Gilles’ gauntlet flinches towards his own sword but does not finish its path. He raises his chin and backs up against the wall.
“In the name of the king and the queen,” the guard proclaims.
Bryce’s eyes linger on the man and he shoos you with a flick of his fingers, “go on, maid. You needn’t worry for the matters of men.”
You quickly flit inside, your heart fraught and your veins flooding with ice. That look in the soldier’s eyes worries you. He is a man of war and the mere scent of conflict seems to enliven him. Certainly, you know, if the guard gives the merest of reasons, there will be blood.
Jazlene is within, abed beneath layers of fur. She lays with a hand against her forehead in a constant state of dismay. The door closes behind you and she sighs.
“I called for a bath ages ago!” She decries, “if I must be imprisoned in this horrid place, I will at least be warm!”
The mention of a bath disarms you. You waver on your feet before you can reclaim your wits. You ignore the memories stirring in the base of your skull. The king’s heat creeps up your back as the sensation of his touch tickles in your sides. You could sob for the way your chest rents.
“Your highness, I will fetch the water,” you acquiesce in a brittle voice.
“Oh, and where have you been?” She bawls, “here I am, with child and miserable and cold, and you are off, a maid, without a care? Abandoning her queen, as my very husband does the same?”
You lower your chin at the mention of the king, “my apologies, I was bid to... other duties.”
The lie is like poison in your mouth. You could gag at your own deceit. You keep your head low. You wish she would rise and pinch or lash or kick you.
“All I wanted was wine,” she babbles at the canopy as she throws her hands up, “and company. He will not allow my own father to see me. He chased him out like some stray dog. The only family I have close and he keeps us apart. I want to play cards and I have no one to win against.” She thumps her fists down on the mattress and kicks her foot, “how can a queen have no power?”
She sits up, her eyes fiery as her curls puff out wildly from her head. Her eyes are sparkling from her tears and pretty features twisted. The blankets fall away from her torso. She mops her face with the sleeves of her gown; they are wrinkled and her bodice is crooked.
“And that Lord Ves... whoever he is, he is a nasty old troll,” she blusters, “I hate him. I hate them all, these winter pests. These animals. Beasts!” She snarls, “how can they live like this? I swear, when we reach the king’s castle, this will not go on. I must have my court. I am a queen and I should be crowned!”
She sneers and shakes her head, closing her eyes as she presses her long fingers to her nose, “why are you just standing there?” She hisses. “I want a bath!”
She pushes the blankets off of her and like a storm, she blows out of bed and towards you. You flinch but do not shield herself. She grabs your shoulders and shakes you. She shoves you away from her and you stagger.
“I will fetch the wat--”
You cannot finish your words as she strikes you across the cheek. You taste blood. The punishment you longed for is not so freeing as you expect. The sear across your face cannot assuage the flames of your guilt.
“Go before I knock your teeth from your stupid head,” she snarls.
You retreat and pull the door inward, letting yourself out. Gilles remains and does not look or comment at you. You rush away, your mouth pooling with blood. You swallow it down as you get to the kitchens, a pair of servants in gray working in the light of the stove.
“Water,” you murmur as you rub your jaw, “please, can I have a pot to boil?”
A woman, slender and silent, moves to fetch the large vessel. She hands it to you and you thank her. She clings to the other handle.
“You will need help,” she declares.
“Yes, thank you,” you flutter your lashes as the sting sticks in your skin.
You know her. She is the same who welcomed in the king’s party to the castle. She helps you carry the pot down a corridor. You feel cold creeping through the air and your teeth chatter. She doesn’t react to the chill and leads you out a door into the frigid outdoors. She stops at a cistern pump and angles the pot beneath it.
She takes a small mallet from next to the spout and beats the lever until it dips, ice falling away from it. She pumps without a word as you watch. You offer to take over but she shakes her head. You linger close by, feeling useless.
“Lift,” she orders as she stills the pump and you grab the handle as she takes the other. You carry the pot together back into the castle.
The act reminds you of another time. The night you and Merinda carried water to the king’s chamber in Debray. The woman across from you is a stranger and as cold as the winds. You raise the vessel over the flames and leave it to boil.
She turns to you and nods, “hard work serving strong men. Best us maids work as one.”
Her words are kind though her tone remains as hard as iron. Your cheeks tense and your lips tremble, “yes, thank you, miss.”
“Same as you,” she dismisses the title you give her, “let me know when it steams.”
You agree and turn to face the pot as it sits above a brazier. You are comforted in knowing that not all is changed in the Hinterlands. That camaraderie among servants has not frozen over like everything else.
As you carry up the first pot of steaming water, the servant offers a name. Ezme. You return your own before you reach the queen’s chamber. You make several trips up and down, between the boil, and fill the large tub nearly to the brim, adding a pot of cool water to mellow the heat.
Ezme leaves with the empty pot as you remain to attend the queen’s bath. As Gilles pulls the door shut, you notice how his eyes search past you. You turn and go to Jazlene as she tugs at her dress. You help unlace the piece of her gown, then her corset, and lift her shift over her head.
She lowers herself into the tub, her dark skin flawless and her figure still as sculpted and firm as ever. She must be early in her state as she has yet to show the effect of her condition. She reclines with her arms over the lip of the wooden tub.
“And what do you suppose the king is about?” She speaks with her eyes closed, frightening you as you stand quietly by the wall. “Hm? Why does he keep my people from me? Not only my father, but those other summer nobles who have accompanied us?”
You don’t speak or move. It’s best to act as if you aren’t there. She speaks to herself; for herself.
“First, he forbade my mother to come. Kept her from seeing me conceive her first grandchild,” she sneers, "and now he has banned my father from my chambers. All because he thought to provide me with a bottle of wine.”
She is back to that. The wine. She is childish in how she latches onto that one grievance and will not let it go.
“Because he would defend his daughter,” she snivels, “well, who else will keep me company as my husband remains errant? Oh, how bound he is to his kingliness. Oh, the hero he is. He has brought his wintry misery to the summer people and cursed us all to his wretched ways.”
You stare at the floor, scalded by the dangerous inference of her complaints. She treads close to those things even a queen should not voice. She might be unhappy but she cannot be so unwise. It is like the game with the dice; she does not think of the turns to come, only what she holds in the moment.
“He must plot against us. It’s what we all believe,” she sits up the water swishing around her.
You try not to react, especially as the king’s command returns to you. ‘...you will watch and you will listen...’
“He has baited us all into his lands, into his snare, and he means to close it on us. He must,” she puts her hands up as if what she says is only the truth. Without a doubt, she must be right, “he speaks of uniting us and yet he means to extinguish us. He will do away with the summer’s blood and invade our lands as he always meant to.” She scoffs and drags her fingertip over the water’s surface, “he gives to all the same empty vows he gave me...”
Silence, the sort where you can hear your own heart beating. You hold your breath. She needs to stop speaking. You want to stop hearing.
“We are not as foolish as he thinks. We will be ready,” she smirks and tilts her head, “and he would not hurt his own prince, would he?” She plunges her hand under the water and rubs her stomach. “Even he cannot deprive his people of their future.”
She hums and the water swishes around her as she lays back again. She snickers and sighs. You tuck your chin down and clutch your hands tightly. In this war of winter and summer, of king and queen, of husband and wife, you will surely be lost.
#geralt of rivia#dark geralt#dark!geralt#geralt of rivia x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#medieval au#the witcher#winter's king
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The Fox and The Fawn
High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel
Part Nine
Summary - Eris and your found family make their move whilst in Velaris, you embark on the most dangerous game of all.
Warnings - depression, torture, angst, more realisations, flashbacks, slight fluff
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
All that echoed about the chamber were her soft groans and pleading cries. It had gone on for hours. For hours the Princess of Velaris had been chained to a stone altar, writhing in unspoken agony as inch by inch her wings were carved from her body.
Beautiful wings of midnight purple, thick onyx membrane laced through the feather-like surface, they glimmered in the moonlight, the stars dying as they lay slumped on the blood-soaked floor.
It was a grave punishment.
No, it was a plan so evil that even the King of Hybern had shuddered in a mixture of fear and delight when his finest general told him of her movements.
To place a demon in the body of Prythian's most powerful creature.
Amarantha had crossed the room to the girl with the paled skin, the one with eyes of flame amongst an ocean of violet waves, and she had laid her talons to rest on her face, a momentary flash of care as she wiped her tears away.
Pain. It wouldn't even begin to describe the horrors inflicted upon her, for pain was too light to explain it.
"I know that this hurts, but it'll be worth it. I promise you," the girl couldn't move, she thrashed against her chains with all of the meek weakness in her bones, but she couldn't break free, she couldn't tear the thing apart that was taking her most sacred possession, carving it from her body like a butcher.
"One day, the demons will take over thanks to you and your position in this world. You will breed them, and you will rule them."
Soft sobs drifted from the girls mouth, she had been panting for too long, on the verge of death for even longer. The pets had taken their time on the Princess, that much was clear from the deeply embedded wounds inflicted into her flesh, in locations that were nowhere close to where they should have been. Amarantha would deal with them later.
For now, she had more pressing matters to deal with.
"What are you going to do to me?" That sickly paled mouth asked, her lips were tinted blue, her eyes had glossed over, and Amarantha knew that she was close to letting herself go, but she was meant for far more than an offending death.
The queen hushed the girl lay atop the altar, tutting at the soiled skirt of the thin nightgown she adorned, "I'm helping you," her eyes were wide and delirious, "You are already the most powerful thing in this world, with my help, you could be the most powerful thing in the universe," Amarantha dragged a talon down the centre of the girls chest, smiling to herself, "Your position means that you will one day marry a High Lord, your power and theirs will create the perfect host, an unstoppable being which will allow the darkness to spread across the universe, a body that our queen will like very much."
"You're insane," Amarantha was sick of listening to her loose and shaky breaths and muttered a simple perhaps in reply. "You have no idea what you're doing."
"No?" the woman craned over her, hovering mere inches from her face as she produced a small onyx stone that shimmered in the dim light, "Then how do I know that placing this tiny stone in your marred flesh will be the answer to all of our problems?"
The scene played out in the flames weaving between one another in the fireplace, Cassian had come to light it for you, knowing that there was no desire in your body to move from the comforter, but also knowing that in order for you to have the strength to get through whatever Rhys had planned that you needed to not freeze to death.
Looking from the window, you had no pull to go outside, and you were sure no one would allow it anyway. All it would take for Rhys' act to crumble would be one word to someone across the boarder, and then it would spread like wildfire. The entire image of the Night Court would be destroyed. Signs of his manipulation had showed when the first bouquet of flowers had arrived the morning after your return, they were from the priestesses at the library who must have heard of your return from someone at the House of Wind. More bouquets followed, from the art gallery you used to frequent with Amren, from the bakery that made the best beignets you'd ever tasted, flowers had even arrived from Hewn City, wishing the Princess a speedy recovery.
Nothing about your recovery was going to be speedy.
Some days had passed but you weren't sure how many exactly, not when you were grappling with the demon in your body who would occasionally allow you to step into the light rather than just have a hand on the wheel of your mind. A haunting hum sounded in the night, a soft stalking song rumbled at your chest, it was sad, every note was laced with your longing for freedom, for Eris, and you knew that it was the symphony to their guilt. The same song drifted over the city, a solemn cloud hanging overhead, reminding your people that all was not as it seemed, and it was up to them to decipher the message.
The door had been left slightly ajar after Cassian's last visit, he had left a tray of meat and roasted vegetables at the foot of your bed, a tray that had gone cold long ago. Cassian had come to you frequently to check on you, you didn't say much to him but you knew that his mind was reeling at the sight of you, at what was happening to your body and soul. A plan was forming within the Illyrian, a desperate one, such became clear when his finger drifted along your cheekbone and felt it freezing under his touch, that alongside the hallowing cheeks and pallid hue to your skin made him flinch with a pain that wasn't even his.
But it wasn't Cassian that had come to see you.
No.
Golden blonde hair poked around the edge of the door, her sultry brown eyes teeming with despair as she looked to you on the bed, wrapped up in your own embrace, humming softly and carrying your melody as far as it could go, "Hey y/n."
Mor's voice floated through the air to you. Stepping into the room, Mor closed the door with a soft click and lingered by the fire, waiting for you to acknowledge her but when you kept humming that awful song, Mor had no choice but to approach you, to pull you back to your horrid reality.
The song caught at your lips and you looked down to her hands resting on the forearms that were curled around your knees. Fluttering eyelashes welcomed her, you were confused but you dragged your eyes to meet hers, "Mor." There was no warmth in the depiction of her name, your voice was empty and monotone, almost as though you were in a trance.
"How are you?"
Shivering, Mor perched beside you, Cassian was right, a certain chill had taken ahold of you, the air shifted as soon as anyone would enter your space; it made them feel unwelcomed, watched even, as if they were under surveillance. The only one observant enough would have been you but there was no way that you were keeping an eye on them, not when you looked so ghostly and pale, not when all you did was hum that sickly sad melody until your throat went raw.
"I'd be better if Rhys stopped drugging the water," you motioned to a half-empty cup sat atop your bedside table, a table that still had yours and Mor's names scribed into the wood, where a strong aroma of herbs emitted, "It's not like I can go anywhere." Raising your wrists, a line of chains rattled at your movements, they connected your wrists and feet together so that if you somehow escaped you wouldn't be able to get very far at all.
Rhys had ordered a that your own supply of water be established, water that he had drugged with various herbs and tonics to subdue you, to make you more docile. It was barbaric. None of them wanted to believe what was happening, all they wanted to do was block it out and deny it, but they couldn't, not when you were suffering so badly.
There was little that could be done to bring you joy, there was no hope that life would return to the way it used to be. But, if all Mor could do was remind you of a time when you were happy, to hopefully coax you into holding on, then she would spend the rest of her life doing it, "Tell me about Autumn. What was it like?"
A ghost of a smile tugged at your chapped and broken lips, and it was the first time Mor had seen your eyes light up since your return, "It was magical. Everything about it was perfect." Gentle darting pupils told Mor that you were lost in a flurry of memories, ones that you would no doubt carry for the rest of your life.
"And Eris?"
"Eris," your eyes glazed over, his name was a whisper of air, "For the first time in my life I had someone who understood me. I couldn't stop myself from wanting him, not when all he had to do was smile and say my name to have me melting."
Mor shuffled closer, watching intently, "His scent still lingers on you. It's like its moulded with your own."
Because he's my Carranam.
If only you knew what she had sacrificed in order to protect that part of you.
"I know that you hate him for what happened," you looked to her, eyes glistening in a mixture of fire and alabaster moonlight, "But he means everything to me." A single tear rolled down your cheek, a faint line weaving between the streaks dotted down your skin, "I'll never see him again. I'll die here," your gaze intensified on your oh so gorgeous cousin that was almost crying at your broken words, "Tell him that I love him. I never got to tell him that," your sight shifted back to the golden valley beyond the window and you leaned against the headboard, falling from Mor's grip, "Thank him for me, for his patience, for teaching me more about myself in a few weeks than I ever learnt here. Thank him for giving me a home and for not being afraid of me. Can you do that for me?"
Mor was practically shaking, with sadness, with anger, with every emotion possible, "I'm not telling him shit," Mor rose from the bed, her eyes ablaze in the moonlight, a deathly clash of molten gold and silver, "You can tell him yourself when you get out of here."
Determination was rife in her features, "I'm not getting out of here."
A violent shudder coursed through you, the same one that occurred at least five times a day, that filled you with dread and darkness, like the bindings drinking your power were piercing you with their talons and draining every ounce of your energy.
The bindings were monstrous, so dark and hateful that Mor wasn't sure where exactly Rhys had precured them, who he had commissioned to create something so vile. Such people deserved to rot in hell. Mor had scoured the library the night you had returned wearing them, looking for any bit of information possible on their origin, unable to scratch the image of your marred black flesh beneath them from her mind. Amren had joined her, a knowing look between them confirming everything, that Rhys had lost his mind, that they had to stop him before he reached too far and destroyed everything.
"Even if I have to cut down Rhys myself, I will get you out of here and get you to Autumn. Your family is waiting for you."
A soft moment. Guilt poured from Mor in waves, tidal waves of guilt and love that crashed against you, "You'll always be my cousin, Mor," an olive branch, a chance to repair what had been broken.
Pausing at the foot of the bed, Mor gripped the railings and used them to steady herself, "Never accept the definition of who you are, from a person who's trying to hide the truth of who they are. Don't let him win, y/n."
As quickly as she appeared, Mor vanished from sight, gliding from the room and signalling her exit with a gently closing door. A moment passed before you sat up, cocking your head to the side and wiping the tears from your cheeks. The demon lurking within you caressed your mind in approval, slithering around your consciousness and muttering her praise.
Somewhere beyond the window, you wondered where Eris was, you thought of what he was doing at that moment.
Had he slept? Had Nesta made sure he’d ate? Was Lucien making him laugh? Was he crying?
Silent tears spilled from your eyes, a pain that no word or sound would ever be able to convey rattled you. The gravity of the situation was grinding down, forcing you tighter into the box that Rhys had crafted with his bare hands; he hadn't come to see you yet, he hadn't even drifted by your door, probably too sickened by your scent to bare being around you.
That link with Eris had been locked away, the key to it residing in the furthest part of your reach thanks to the other one living within you. It wasn't like you hadn't begged her to open it, for just a moment, just to tell him that you were alive and thinking of him, but she had willed you into submission, she had told you that the link between your minds would only hinder your collective progress.
Once we are done, you will be with him again. Hold on.
Squinting, you willed your eyes further, you begged the Mother for one glimpse, and you could have sobbed when the sky didn’t split apart and allow you one singular comfort. It was silly to command to the universe that he not be sad, you knew he would be, if their would-be faces had flashed through your mind that day at the boarder you wouldn’t have been able to cross it.
If Eris had-
No.
You couldn’t think about it, think about the reality where he came to you at the last second and convinced you that there was another way. It wasn’t the reality you were drowning in.
But it was the one you’d dream of.
A reel of endless possibilities paused on the centre stage of his mind, snippets of potential realities weaving between one another and your face was at the epicentre of each image. In some you were sad, in others you were consumed by the feminine rage you did so well to keep in check, in others you were laughing, and then there were a couple, the odd one or two where your body was shrouded in darkness, images where no life existed within you where shadows caressed you like an old friend.
Eris wasn't sure which image he found the most terrifying.
Willow sighed in his lap, her head rested on his thigh as he idly ran his fingers through the tufts of hair on her head, and from her furrowed brows over the closed eyes, he knew that she was thinking of you. There had been countless occasions where Eris would enter the sitting room or your chambers only to find you with Willow snuggled into your chest, most of the time you'd be sleeping, nuzzling your head into her fur and sighing gently. Eris smiled to himself at the thought.
The High Lord had found himself sleeping in your room, your scent lingered on the sheets and it brought him more comfort than anything else ever could. Crackling flames filled the space, giving some life to the emptiness that had taken hold of the manor. A chill had befallen the home, even the foundations cried in the night at the realisation of your loss; even the hour of golden sun that you adored so much felt less dim, like the sun herself had nothing to impress, like she had nothing to shine for.
A shuffle of weight beside him pulled Eris from his thoughts, albeit unwillingly, and he turned his head to the side to see Nesta, "Anything?" Eris enquired, Nesta had been holed up in the library for the last couple of days, scouring the towers of books for something, anything that may act as the key to your freedom.
Shaking her head softly, Nesta answered, "Not really," she fiddled with her fingers atop her skirt and Eris' eyes narrowed at the action, Nesta wasn't a nervous female, but something was bothering her, "That day, Under The Mountain, when I found out what happened to her," Nesta's voice drifted off, she was fighting her own mind, fighting whether or not to divulge another detail, "I didn't just find something, I took something."
Eris straightened, being careful not to move the hound dozing on his lap as he turned to Nesta, "Took what?"
Knowing that she couldn't keep it to herself any longer, not when you were suffering in the worst of ways, Nesta had no choice but to admit what else she knew, what she had kept from everyone, "Something that belonged to Amarantha, a book," A book that she didn't think to pluck from the library upon her exit from the Night Court, a book that was quite literally in enemy territory, "It details everything that was done to her, even things from before Under The Mountain."
The air shifted, a seething tension took hold of Eris that was directed toward Nesta's nervousness, at how her words stumbled over one another, "I need you to tell me," From the way her gaze darted about the room, Eris knew that it was no small nugget of information, actually, he knew that it was information that would tear him apart entirely.
Nesta didn't know where to look, at the floor or walls, at the bouts of dancing flame, or at Eris whose gaze was scouring her skin. Nesta chose the latter, "You've said before that there are gaps in your memories of y/n?" Eris nodded slowly, trying to anticipate what exactly was about to leave the lips of the eldest Archeron sister, "It was Rhys. He invaded your minds and stripped you both of one another."
"What?"
"Y/N was already far too powerful, she was already a threat to his title and position, and then they found out that your power elevated hers, and they had to stop it."
"Who is they?"
"Your parents. They instructed Rhys to remove you both from each other's minds. According to the book, it had been a rigorous and painful process. From what Amarantha suggested, it seemed like you two had been very much in love at the time."
That's why Rhys had been so desperate to get you back, it wasn't just because you had left and denounced the Night Court, it wasn't just because of his fear of your power, it was because you had left the Night Court and settled in Autumn, that you had settled in Autumn with Eris, the male that Rhys had plucked from your mind and washed away. Then you had been caged and the next time Eris remembered seeing you was on the night your wings had been taken, the same night that Amarantha did what she did.
The world was rumbling, the earth was shaking all around him, and it took all of his will to reign that anger back in, "Does Rhys know of this book?"
"No."
"And it's in the Night Court? In the library?"
Nesta hummed in approval, "In the House of Wind. Rhys wouldn't have taken her there, not when the priestesses could so easily see her."
Maybe, just maybe there was a key in that book, a way to open the gateway to those memories.
The room warmed upon Lucien's entrance, he sat down on the armchair opposite them sporting a wide, feline grin, and he slid his arm over Elain's shoulders who matched the grin of her lover, "What is this?" Eris motioned to the love-sick pair, his own desire writhing in agony at the sight.
Leaning forward in his seat, Lucien continued to grin, "We realised something. Something that will most certainly help us and in turn help y/n."
Elain squeezed Lucien's thigh, her gaze lingered on him a second longer than it should have, her eyes were bright and hopeful, "There are two people who value y/n as much as we do. Two people who have been vying for her hand for quite some time. Two people of very high standing in this world who would pledge themselves to her without question."
Nesta looked between them, confused, her eyebrows dipped low and lips parted in question. Then it hit him, of who exactly Elain was speaking of, and his query was met with russet confirmation from his brother.
"Who are you talking about?"
Of course, how could Eris miss it? How could he forget about the two males who constantly gravitated toward you and spoke nothing but the highest of praises of your character despite the vile word that had been born of you?
Grinning, Eris settled back into the comfort of the seat, "They're talking about Helion," he snapped his head to the side to meet the eyes of the woman whose own had widened in realisation, "And Tamlin."
"Helion could call a High Lord's meeting," a whisper from Nesta, her entire body shivered with the hope that singular notion brought her.
Rhys wouldn't be able to deny a High Lord's meeting, and once Helion knew of what was happening to you, of what had been done to both of you, Eris was sure that he would have no ill-feeling toward calling such a thing.
There wasn't a moment to waste, but as Eris looked to Lucien, it was clear that he had already taken the step, "You've summoned them?"
Lucien shrugged, sipping from his goblet of wine before setting it down on the table beside him, "They'll both arrive in the morning."
"What did you tell them?"
Elain chuckled softly, "That the High Lord of the Night Court is committing a crime so vile that if they allow it to continue then they may as well have a hand in the suffering of the Princess of Velaris. That they have a chance to better this world for all if all they can do is answer our call."
Pride flowed about the room, it coiled around Lucien and Elain, for listening to the world close enough to be able to forge a path forward. It curled around Nesta, for having the strength to tell the truth no matter how dark it may be. And then it settled onto Eris, it caressed his soul, it soothed what he already knew, that you were made for him and he for you, and in that moment, as the weight of the oncoming struggle nestled itself into their embrace, did Eris feel the softest and slightest tug.
Author's Note
The way in envisioned the song she hums being the one with the girl harmonising with her microwave 🥺
Iykyk
Taglist
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PAC: How to Improve Your Relationship With Your Mother Figure
Hello beautiful people. Today is Mother’s Day and I want to wish all of the mothers out there a Happy Mother’s Day. Whether your mother is alive, dead or far away, I want to dedicate this reading to those who wish to have better relationships with their mothers. You don’t have to have a strained relationship with your mother to relate to this topic. You could simply just want to keep the bond that you have already. And lastly, I want to dedicate this Mother’s Day to the mothers in Haiti, Congo, Palestine, Sudan, Tigray and unfortunately many more. If you have any crowdfunding links that need to be boosted/donated to regarding mothers/families in these countries, please do not hesitate to direct me to them. Without further ado, please select the photo that resonates with you.
Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (Pile 1-6)
Pile One: I feel like this pile has a close relationship with their mother overall. You seem to be at peace with where you are with her, but things could get even better. I feel like something that could help you and your mother get along even more is helping her around the house. She likes for the floors to be swept and mopped, towels to be folded, dishes to be washed. Your mother may be a neat freak but it’s nothing that can’t be taken care of. I also feel like buying your mother things that she would use on a daily basis could be something that improves your relationship. For example, if your mother really likes makeup, get her a lip gloss set. If she likes flowers, buy her a vase and some flowers so that she can smell the roses. It’s the thought that counts. And lastly, I feel like making your mom look good is going to improve your relationship. Not only does being a good representation of her name make her look good, but actually adding onto her beauty will strengthen your relationship. If you’re into makeup, do your mom’s makeup. If you’re into hair, do her hair. If she wants a new pair of shoes, get her that pair of shoes. This is only if you’re able to though. Don’t break the bank trying to please your mama.
If your mother is not here on this Earth, then please go all out with her grave. She wants you to decorate her grave/headstone with flowers. Clean the headstone. Wear her necklaces, bracelets and adornments. She wants you to talk about her highly. She wants you to not forget where you came from. You are wise and positive, so please continue to do what you do. Just because she is gone does not mean anything should change. She wants you to listen to your gut. If you have a little sibling, please don’t let them do anything stupid even though they can be prideful. I feel like she’s very big on morals and discipline so don’t think she isn’t clocking you from the afterlife because she is. Lastly, please speak of yourself highly. You have half of her genes and she does not appreciate it when you disrespect the physical features that you two share. Have some respect for those who have come before you.
Cards Used: Queen of Cups, Justice, The Star, 6 of Wands, The Magician, Ace of Discs.
extras: joanne the scammer. 2016 era of youtube. mother-daughter days. only child. donuts.
Pile Two: I feel like you all have a tumultuous relationship with your mother. It feels like you’re a rebel and you do not like to follow the rules. You and your mother could never see eye-to-eye once you turned a certain age. Perhaps, it was around age 12? I feel like you and your mother need to consider counseling. It would help a lot to have a mediator with the two of you. This energy is like an episode of Maury or Steve Wilkos. I think that you may be LGBTQ+ as well. Your mother may not completely accept this part of you. Now usually, I am against the whole “They’re from a different time stance” but your mom feels out of reach to you. I am literally seeing two people on opposite sides of a grassy land. One person is reaching for the other but the other person is minding their business. She wants to understand you but her bossiness can get in the way. I say to just be patient with her. I feel like one thing that you can do is invite her to a place that you frequent often for fun just so she can get a taste of what you do everyday. I am channeling this movie called ‘The Aggressives’. One of the mascs’ mother was so convinced that she would end up with a man but that obviously wasn’t the case. By the end, she just ended up accepting her daughter for who she is. You two are definitely on opposite sides of the spectrum. I feel like another thing that you could do is play video games with her, which is weird? This can help build teamwork amongst you two, thus forming a better bond in the end.
If your mother is deceased, I feel like you should be taking more risks. Stop giving a fuck about the rules and just live your life. There is nothing wrong with changing up your routine. Your mother could have been a rebel or even someone who led a revolution. Your mother wants you to walk away from what you once knew. Deep inside, you are someone who is capable of making great changes just as she did. I feel like your mother just wants you to embrace the inner youth inside of you. You’re too rigid. It’s affecting the way that you live. You have too much couth. It’s okay to play and let loose a little bit. She will still love you just the same as she did when she was alive if you change. Overall, embrace change babe! Dye your hair a different color. Take a spontaneous trip. Go to that concert. Please just do something! Get out of freeze mode!
Cards Used: The Fool, 6 of Swords, The Hermit (RX), 5 of Swords, Queen of Swords, 7 of Discs, Wheel of Fortune, The Hierophant (RX).
extras: minor headaches. igor (2019). odd future fan. beast. the bear (2022). absent father.
Pile Three: I feel like you have this certain image of your mother in your head. You think that she is perfect but she is not, my dear. There are certain things that she has been through/experienced that she hasn’t even told you about. You do not know her the way you think you do. She has stories for days. She is not an angel. I feel like you need to get to know your mother. She is an interesting character. Ask her about her life story. Ask her about the experiences that have shaped her into the woman that she is today. You need to take her off of the pedestal that you have put her on. Take a step into reality, boo. I think that doing stuff like going out by the water or going fishing will help you guys bond to understand each other better. Yes, she used to change your diapers but if someone walked up to you and asked what your mother figure’s favorite color was, would you be able to answer it? It’s time to change that. I feel like traveling with your mother, whether it’s a road trip or by plane will help as well. I am channeling the movie Tammy (2014) with Melissa McCarthy. I recommend you watch this movie. Don’t underestimate your mother anymore!
If your mother is deceased, I feel like she wants you to know that she looks back on memories between the two of you fondly. I think she may have passed when you were too young to remember or it was before you hit puberty. You should ask the people who knew her best about what she was like, how she felt about motherhood, how she felt about you, etc. She does not regret anything in her lifetime. That says a lot about how she lived her life. If you have access to these, find any diaries, photos, old clothes, etc and put them in a place where no one can find them. If you find some old clothes, wear them and don’t let anyone else do that. Your mother wants you to be on the straight and narrow path though. Even though you may not know her like the back of your hand, she’s been watching you grow into the person that you are today from a place that you cannot see. But she will not judge if you stray away from this path, she understands what it’s like to be young and dumb. Overall, your mother just wants what is best for you.
Cards Used: 6 of Swords, Temperance, 3 of Wands, 7 of Swords (RX), King of Cups.
extras: beaver. morehouse college. air out your grievances. gummy bear song. sepia filter.
Pile Four: Stop hanging out with your significant other so much! You need to learn how to balance between familial obligations and romantic obligations. I feel like this is really the only thing that is getting in between you and your mother’s relationship. I feel like this pile listens to Jhene Aiko a lot. I am channeling Never Call Me. I think your mom would show up to your s/o’s house unannounced with a bunch of people behind her if you don’t keep in contact with her regularly. She does not play about you at all. It’s not really an overbearing thing. I think she just doesn’t want you to go down the path that she went down with your father. So speak up or face the consequences, love. I also think that you should hear her out when it comes to certain advice especially if it has something to do with a car. Maybe you let your s/o borrow your car too much or you let your car battery almost die or something? In this case, mother knows best. She’s not a chip on your shoulder. Just listen!
If your mother is deceased, I feel like she may have died around the same time as your father figure. She also could have died at the same time as your father figure. Your father could have been the reason she died. She wants you to be independent. Learn how to change your own tires. Take up some gym classes/self-defense classes. Don’t be willfully clueless. She also wants you to not be anyone’s ride or die. This may be the reason why she passed away. I feel like you’ve heard countless versions of how your mother chose to live her life, it isn’t completely true. Don’t believe the hype. One day, you will come across the full story. Definitely be single until you are ready to marry. Your mother could have been rushed to marry. She does not want to see you get taken advantage of like she was. Don’t hesitate to dedicate an altar to her. She wants to talk to you. She may have even popped up in your dreams before.
Cards Used: 6 of Discs (RX), Ace of Swords, 2 of Wands, The High Priestess, The Devil, Two of Cups, Queen of Wands.
extras: gang culture. setup. grooming. pirates. shoddy apartment. purple bandana.
Pile Five: Have you ever considered getting plastic surgery so that you would look different from your mother? I am specifically getting an eyelift, nose job, butt implants, etc. I am channeling the energy of Blac Chyna and Tokyo Toni. I think that you and your mom have a toxic relationship. One day you’re good. The next day you’re fighting to be heard by her. You two could have physically fought before. What I am hearing is “Everyone has a story”. I feel like your guides want you to take into consideration her backstory. Get a little psychological here. Why does she act the way that she acts? Was she abandoned as a child? How does this play into how she treats you now? I am seeing a therapist writing in their notebook as we speak. I feel like she operates out of a lack mindset and you have outgrown that. I think that there was some type of falling out between her and your father figure. Maybe she was the side chick? Maybe she was taken advantage of at a young age? Maybe it was both. Honestly, this pile is very different from the others. You are being asked to pour into yourself. You need to put your foot down and let her know that you will be choosing the higher road. She will respect you more if you do that. I also think that you just simply need to start taking more time for yourself. You do not exist to be your mother’s punching bag. You are a human being. This pile is very different. You need to protect your peace babe.
If your mother is deceased, I feel like you guys could have argued before she died. I think that she was warning you about a particular behavior. Maybe she was telling you not to follow in your father’s footsteps and you chose not to listen. Maybe you snuck off somewhere you weren’t supposed to? Your mother did not want to control you. She just had some feelings about the choices you were making. But you make the bed that you lay in so there’s nothing that she could have done about it. I feel like you need to forgive yourself. Free yourself of the burden of your mother’s death. You cannot control fate. You need to learn how to accept certain circumstances for what they are. You can change the present moment and make things right today! It’s all about what you choose to do. No matter what though, your mother still has love for you. She forgave you a long time ago, almost as soon as she transitioned. It’s time for you to make peace with yourself, love. Take control of your future and accountability for your actions (or lack thereof).
Cards Used: The Emperor, 9 of Cups, Prince of Discs, The Moon, 5 of Wands, Ace of Cups, 7 of Swords, Judgment, The High Priestess.
extras: living vicariously. narcissist. getting high. sobbing uncontrollably. asthma attack. ambush.
Pile Six: You are not a child anymore, Pile Six. Your mother is willing to talk to you about uncomfortable topics now. You’re an adult. Treat yourself as such. I think that drinking wine with your mother and having a conversation will help you guys get along better. Day drinking, wine tasting, etc will help you guys bond in a more mature way. I feel like you and your mom could be friends if you were not mother and child. You have to see the world through an adult’s eyes now. I feel like gossiping with your mom can be beneficial for your relationship, especially if it’s about old family tea. You can be in the know now, lol. I also think that paying for dinner/lunch could be a great way to prove your maturity. Honestly, your mom just wants you to grow up. You’re there but not quite. Be the butterfly that you’re meant to be. Lowkey, you might want to start saving to move out. She’s not going to kick you out or anything but you’re going to start feeling differently about the environment that you’re in.
If your mother is deceased, please keep her updated on the latest family/friend drama lol. I feel like your mother may have had a boyfriend before she passed. I don’t know if he moved on or not but she approves of the lady he’s with now. Your mother could have had problems with conceiving/conceived at a young age. This plays into why she treated you like gold. You guys could have acted more like siblings rather than mother and child. It’s also possible that your mother could have passed at a young age (you could actually be older than your mother right now). Whatever the case may be, I feel like she wants you to finish the path that she was set to be on. Continue to honor her legacy. She could have been on the way to pursuing a degree, you should do the same but actually complete the journey. I am channeling the energy of Whitney Houston. Your mother is very animated to be honest. She wants you to embrace that energy/side of yourself. It’s in you, lol. And lastly, don’t try to hide being your mother’s child. You don’t have to be exactly like her but you are her partially. You are your own person but you just so happen to take after her mannerisms, looks, etc lol. There is nothing wrong with that. Don’t fight it.
Cards Used: Queen of Discs, The Sun, 6 of Cups (RX), Princess of Discs (RX), 3 of Cups, The Lovers.
extras: esperanza/hope. j. cole. popeye spinach. t-boz. slow jamz. 2004-2005. senior in college.
#law of assumption#manifesting#neville goddard#hoodoo#tarotreading#astro notes#pick a card#pick a pile#tarot#divination#occult#tarot tumblr#free tarot#tarot witch#tarot deck#daily tarot#pick a reading#tarot pick a card#pac reading#paid readings#tarot community#black tarot readers#tarot reading#Spotify#spirituality#tarotcommunity#tarot pac#tarot pull#pick an image#tarotblr
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Autumn of '88
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Word count: 3.8k
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, Reader and Hobie are 13/14 in this, Puppy love, TTN! Reader and Hobie, set in the TTN universe, best friends to lovers (prequel to TTN), CW food mentions, Fluff.
A/N: This is the last of the 1k celebration fics! Thank you all so much ❤️❤️❤️
Thread the Needle Masterlist
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Head on your palm, heavy eyes slowly closing with every dreary words that your biology teacher says, you fight a yawn from escaping since the last time someone yawned in front of Mrs. Weathers they got kicked out of class. But with the boring subject about symbiotic relationships in the wild, that you most definitely already know since you did the advanced reading, you're tempted to yawn loudly and widely just so you could escape from this biology hell.
The air is crisp, October air breezing through you from the open window to your left. Clad in your cardigan and yellow corduroy pants, the cold still seeps into the thick fabrics. It's a comfortable cold but with you sitting still for more than an hour without stretching your limbs has you freezing in your seat.
You risk getting called out by Mrs. Weathers if she notices you looking out of the window for even a second. But you are so bored out of your mind that you'd rather stare at the oak tree outside than continue to listen to her yapping about symbiosis. Having the brilliant idea to hide your wandering eyes from the teacher with your hand slightly covering your profile, now safe from her piercing gaze, you watch as the orange leaves dance with the breeze.
There's a pile of dead leaves at the bottom of its trunk, and you wish you could jump inside and never have to study biology ever again. It must be so warm and cozy inside, with the orange and yellow leaves as your sky and walls, you'll live like a tiny mouse queen ruling over your land. You think of all the stuff you'll bring inside your little leaf kingdom, your sketchbook is definitely a yes, and also your big pack of colorful markers and pencils is an absolute need. You'll need some snacks of course, some eggos and cheese balls would suffice. As for sleeping, you guess you'll never need to sleep when you have so much time to do anything you want in your leaf kingdom.
Yet, you think you'll be lonely inside. Sure you can bring your gameboy or your care bears, but they can't exactly talk and have the most riveting banter with you. With a smile, you plan to bring your best friend with you to your autumn kingdom. Hobie can be your bard or your right hand man. It's perfect, you think, a perfect place where it's just you and Hobie where there's no more school to attend, no more grades to keep up, just you and him having fun in the pile of leaves.
With a sigh, you blink slowly as your eyes get heavier and heavier with every daydream. Fighting the sandman from having his sandy grip on you, you pinch your cheek subtly. Opening your eyes, a familiar silhouette appears right next to the oak tree. Long arms waving in your direction, legs jumping to get your attention. Blinking rapidly, it's none other than Hobie who has the widest grin on his face when he notices that he finally has your attention.
He motions for you to go outside, beckoning you over dramatically. Miming that he'll cry if you don't go outside. You think otherwise, quietly giggling at his antics.
After the realization, you straighten in your seat, wondering why and how he got outside when he's supposed to be in maths.
A loud thwack slams against your desk, jumping awake, Mrs. Weathers shakes her head, tongue clicking in agitation.
“If you're not prepared to listen in class it's best that you should leave, miss L/N.” She says, gritting her fake teeth.
“Okay,” you stand up to collect your things, shoving your notebook and books inside your already full backpack. Your reply has Mrs. Weathers confused, since you are her best student.
“Wait—” you've never seen her flabbergasted, your classmates snicker silently in their seats, some even clap and cheer you on.
Giving them all a shrug, you exit the classroom before she grabs you back inside. With the door shutting close, you sprint towards the exit. Trainers squeaking on the linoleum, backpack heavy, you push the double doors open with your shoulder. Hobie greets you outside just as the fresh air whips at your cheeks.
He claps slowly but surely, face proud with a smug smile. “I've got to hand it to you, Pingu, I did not expect that. I have successfully made a rebel out of you.”
Hobie stands on the grass like he owns the entire school, hands tucked inside his jeans, thumbs tapping on his metal belts that clinks against each other when he moves. For once, he's dressed for the weather, the old worn leather jacket now fits him better than last year, it was bigger on his shoulders back then. Puberty works in mysterious ways, you think. A denim vest lays on top of the leather, handmade pins of his favourite things are all tacked securely on the denim. Its edges are frayed, but you know it was intentional since you're the one who helped him do it. The thrifted ‘Queen’ shirt you gave him on his birthday is the perfect size, but you know that he'll only be able to wear it for a couple of years at the rate he's growing.
No one would think you two are best friends judging by how different your styles are, or how different you are to him. Personality wise, likes, dislikes, it's all different, sometimes you wonder how you two get along. But you wouldn't have it any other way.
“How'd you get out of maths?”
“Climbed out of the window before Mr. Keery came in.”
You doubt his story. “Yeah, right, your classroom is on the third floor, Hobie.”
He feigns hurt, “my own best mate doubts my abilities?” You roll your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks says otherwise. “‘m great at climbing, I could climb down from that height.” You stay silent, looking at him with a raised brow and unblinking eyes. “...fine, I faked sleepin' by snorin’ loudly, happy?”
You touch his shoulder with a mischievous smile. “Hobie, you don't have to fake snore because you snore like an elephant giving birth.”
“You're very funny,” he takes your wrist to push your hands away. You now notice the new nail polish on his nails. “That doesn't even make bloody sense.”
You ignore him, mouth agape and shocked at his painted nails. “You finally coloured your nails?” You take his hand that has nail polish sloppily painted on. The paint even reaches to the edge of his nails, painting his skin with shadowy black. “You could've asked me for help, y’know.”
“It's part of the style” He shrugs, taking his hand away before you can feel his pulse pick up.
“Sure, even the bubbles are in style.” You tease with a playful smile. “So why'd you call me over here?”
“Got bored, then thought you're also bored so I went to your window so we could skip the rest of the day.” He purposely skips the part that he knows exactly where you always sit.
You gasp. “Wait, I thought we were just skipping class, not skipping the rest of the day!” Hands on your hips, you shake your head. “And here I thought there's like a really cool… stick or something.”
“A stick?” He chortles.
“Yeah, like the one you found a few days ago that actually looked like a sword.”
“Nah, I wanted to—” A high pitched whistle echoes out, startling you both. Finding the source of the sound, the school guard is currently running towards you. The hundreds of keys on his belt jingles, cheeks red from all the whistle blowing.
“Oi!” The yells, pointing accusingly at you two.
With wide eyes, Hobie takes your hand before sprinting away. He practically drags you along with him, bigger strides than you, he looks over his shoulder to check on you. Unsurprisingly enough, he has a huge grin on his lips, as if he planned all of it.
You follow his lead, dead leaves crunching under your shoes, backpack weighing you down. Yet, he doesn't leave you even though you're slowing him down. You appreciate him for not letting your hand go, but you don't like how your heart hammers against your chest when you look at your intertwined hands.
Finally reaching the metal fence, Hobie chucks his backpack over it. It's not that tall for him, he could easily jump over it with no problem, but with you still waiting on your growth spurt, it'll be a challenge for you. He knows it too, without asking he grabs your bag off your shoulders, he then quickly throws it over the other side before crouching down with his hands on top of the other.
“C’mon, Pingu, up you go!” Hobie flicks his eyes over to the guard, he's glad that the guard isn't exactly a track star. The whistling gets louder as the uniformed man gets closer. “Hurry—!”
Before he could finish saying the word, you shakily put your foot on his palm. With one strong push, and a jump from you, Hobie hoists you over the fence. You miraculously make it over, landing on your side with a groan. Hobie follows a second later, climbing like his life depended on it. Immediately grabbing each of your backpacks, then putting both on one arm, he lifts you up from the pavement with one hand just before the guard could even reach the fence; you two race off across the street, huffing and aching from the daring escape.
Going around a corner, Hobie leads you towards an alley. He skids off to a stop, heavy bags falling off his arms.
Hands on your knees, lungs burning, and face sweaty from the run, you check behind the corner if the guard is still after you.
“He won't follow us anymore. We're out!” Hobie exclaims, exhilarated, and grinning widely. He leans on the wall opposite of you, chest heaving, laughter echoing around the empty alleyway.
Copying his stance, cracking a smile, you laugh together with him. “You're a bad influence, Hobie Brown.”
“And you're a great influence, Y/N L/N.” His smile and his shining eyes says it all: we balance each other out. “Too bloody nice, that's what you are.”
You shake your head, chin resting on your clavicle to hide your lopsided smile. Heat on your cheeks, you seem to find yourself having the same expression lately whenever you're around him.
“Where to?” He asks once he caught his breath.
“My choice?” You ask, smile permanently etched on your lips.
“‘course,” Hobie says it like it's the most obvious thing. He was supposed to add to his sentence but he shuts his mouth before he could let the word escape.
You excitedly perk up. “The mall?”
He makes a face. “I'd rather stay in maths.”
“Arcade then?”
“They'd kick us out,” you knit your eyebrows in question. “Because we're skippin’ class, they put up that fuckin' sign a few weeks ago.”
“Oh right, I forgot. How about the record shop? Mike's cool, he might let us stay until classes are over.”
Hobie pushes himself off the wall, strutting over to you, your heart quickens for some reason. He pats shoulder with a smirk. “Your best idea yet,” taking both bags off the grimey floor, he puts them both on each shoulder. It's your turn to smirk at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” you say in a sing-song tone.
He clicks his tongue, avoiding your eyes. “C’mon then, before someone sees us here and thinks we're skippin' class.”
“Hobie, we are skipping class.”
“Not if we act like we're not.”
“...what?” You chuckle, blinking in confusion. “What would you do?”
“Nothin’, let's go.” He walks away from you.
“Oh come on, what will you do? Will you put on your best acting skills like how you faked being sick in front of the nurse? Because she was definitely convinced that you had chicken pox!” You giggle, following him, matching his longer strides.
“It worked, didn't it?” Hobie turns his head away from your playful glance.
“Yeah, because you had an actual fever. But sure, your drawn on chicken pox was very convincing.”
“I'm an artiste, Y/N.” He says, trying to do a french accent.
You snort, “sure, and I'm the queen of England.”
“Alright, your majesty.” He stops, “carry your own luggage,” your bag thuds on the pavement. “I don't want to help some parasite.” Smugly walking away, you feign hurt with your loud gasp.
“You…you doodoo head!” You yank your bag, wearing it properly on your back. Running after Hobie, he has a mischievous smile, one you're all too familiar with.
“Doodoo head? That the best you can come up with?” He says before bolting off, leaving you in the dust.
“Hey!” Running, you follow him with a laugh. “Asshole!”
—
Finally reaching the vinyl shop, the bells jingle as you two enter. The smell of plastic and cheap air freshener lingers in the air, the ancient shaggy carpet is soft under your trainers. Shelves upon shelves of records greet you as you roam your eyes around the different album covers. It's a slow day so the store is empty except for Mike the cashier who has headphones on.
Hobie sniffs dramatically, “home sweet home!”
Mike cracks an eye open, with a groan after seeing you and Hobie standing by the door, he chucks his headphones on the counter, looking disgruntled. The denim jacket with hundreds of patches and bottle cap pins is large on his lanky frame.
“Oh great, Hobie's here.” He says sarcastically, long straight hair flipped over his shoulder with one move from his head. “And he brought his little girlfriend. Hi, Y/N, you still hang out with this arse?” He points at Hobie who doesn't bother correcting him anymore. “Seriously, I thought you were smarter than that.”
“D’you finally have it, mate?” Hobie acts like he's the same age as Mike, even though the teenage cashier could be his older brother. Ignoring Mike's jab, he waits for his reply.
Wanting to quit his job is clearly seen on his face. Then he considers the fact that he needs to save for college. With a sigh, he points towards the end of the store, where you think ‘it’ is there.
Hobie punches the table with a thump, then he excitedly bounds over to where the cashier pointed. “Thanks, bruv.”
“Cyndi Lauper?” You ask, all wide eyed and shy. “It's not at the front anymore.”
“Over to the right, just across where your boyfriend is.”
“He's not my—nevermind, thanks.” Walking past all the display, Hobie guffaws when he finds what he was looking for. You smile at how happy he is.
He's so happy that he grabs you by your elbow, pointing at the new ‘Ramones’ album. The words “Ramones Mania” are printed in bright red.
“Finally! Look!”
“I see it, Hobs.” You chuckle, “didn't this release months ago though?”
“It did,” he sighs like he's recalling a bad memory. “But this place isn't making a lot of money from records like this, so Mike here!” He yells the last part to annoy the man. “Delayed ordering it. I had to come ‘ere every day just to remind him.”
You see Mike pressing the volume up on his walkman. Making sure that Hobie sees that he's not listening to him.
“You didn't tell me that.” You say, sounding a bit too hurt.
“Thought you wouldn't care.” Hobie shrugs, “‘sides, you don't listen to stuff like this.” He points at the album.
“I could listen to it, Hobs. I make you listen to my records and you seem to like it.”
Hobie's eyes soften. “You wanna listen to it together then? You might not like it.”
“Yeah,” you nod. “If I don't end up liking it then at least I gave it a try, right? If I do like it we have something new to talk about.”
He could only manage a smile and a curt nod. Taking the record to the listening booth that sits at the corner of the store, he leaves his bag outside whilst he opens the door for you. Placing your bag down more gently than he did, you enter the cramped booth.
Mike yells after you two, “you lot better not snog in there!” You and Hobie scrunch your faces at the man.
“We're fourteen, mate!” Hobie yells back, not agitated, just weirded out by Mike's comment.
“You're fourteen? How would I know? You look fuckin' sixteen, bruv! Tall motherfucker.” He whispers the last part, Hobie didn't hear it but you surely did.
“I thought he was cool.” You admit, shutting the booth door behind you.
“He's a wanker, just actin’ like he is. Thought you fancy him?”
“Ew.” He beams at your reaction.
You giggle, the sound bouncing off the padded walls of the booth. It's just a regular rectangular box with a shelf for the record player and a bench to sit on. It's quieter inside, the cars outside are muffled, the only clear thing you can hear is how your heartbeat gets faster and faster the longer you stay squished inside the booth with him. Sitting down, you leave enough space for him. Hands on top of the other, you roam your eyes around the cracking paint on the walls, mind making shapes from how the navy blue paint crumbles.
Hobie carefully takes the record out then places it on the record player. Sitting next to you, you can practically feel his excitement reverberating. He takes the headphones from its rack, turning each around so you and him could listen at the same time.
“Ready to shit your trousers?” He asks, eyes glinting from the single light bulb. He's so close to you that you can see yourself in the reflection in his eyes. And you can see every single strand of eyelashes that's perfectly blending in with his eyeliner.
“I don't want to poop on my trousers, I like this pair.” You joke, and you pat yourself on the back for making him laugh. “This is corduroy, Hobie.”
“Alright quiet time now.” He presses play as you hide your amused smile.
—
You bask in the sunset, eyes closed, you let the autumn air kiss your cheeks, your hands are behind you, propping you up. Despite the dusty pavement, and the looming problem of getting found out that you skipped school, you're perfectly content where you are right now. It would be perfect but you're missing something, or someone for that matter.
Cold air suddenly blows right behind you, the convenience doors close with a hiss and that's your cue to look up. Hobie appears upside down in your vision just like you thought, he tilts his head, you can see the cogs in his head turn. Placing the cup on your forehead, he laughs at your crossed eyes. Condensation rolls off from the plastic cup and into your skin.
Hobie takes it away before you could catch a cold. Sitting next to you, he hands you your bright slurpee. There's a mix of colours, red and blue melting into the orange and purple.
“They didn't have the brown one.” He says as he rips open a pack of Doritos. “There's no puddin’ pops either.”
“Aw,” you say slightly disappointed, but the sight of the box of nerds inside the plastic bag helps remedy your disappointment. “Ooh nerds!”
“Where?” As he says it, you see a grin slowly spreading on his face. “I only see one right here!” Chortling, grin wide, the orange hues of the sky paints him with its watercolour glow. You'd take this sight more than a day alone at the arcade.
“Ha ha.” You say flatly, sipping your drink too quickly, you wince loudly. Hobie guffaws into the barren space, save for the 711 behind you and the woods sitting quietly in front of you. His laugh echoes, even with his amusement, he still has the time to pat your back affectionately.
“Ow.” You rub your temple.
“What’d I tell you before? Drink it slowly, love.” The title slips out of his tongue. The second he realizes it, he hides behind his own cup, sipping wordlessly as he stares off into the woods.
Love, the simple freudian slip has you blinking at him slowly. He has never called you that before, he has, however, called you a bunch of nicknames that are either sweet or to purposely annoy you. But love? You've only heard older teenagers call each other that, and they usually have their hand inside their girlfriend’s or boyfriend’s back pockets when they do. You have no idea if Hobie has mistaken, because you're clearly not love, you're pingu, you're cheese, you're pebbles, hell, you're even lad, or his best mate. Never love, because that's reserved for someone you actually like, someone you truly care for.
Is he mistaken? Mimicking something he has heard around school?
“I should've told you about the album.” His voice wakes you to the present.
Do you care for him? Of course you do.
“What?” You breathlessly ask.
He's your best mate after Danny left, he was the only one who filled that lonely lonely gap he left. You think he's stuck with you forever, and he thinks you're stuck with him forever. Strangely enough, you both think it's perfect.
“Me pestering the shit out of Mike.” You knit your eyebrows at his words. He looks down at his boots, a small puddle at his feet reflects his own confused face. Is he apologizing? Why is he apologizing for? Weirdly enough, you both ask the same question.
You'd annoy Mike for him. You'd call the shop endlessly just so they would order his record. Even if you get in trouble for the telephone bill.
“You would've helped.” Hobie continues, eyes now looking into your own.
Care, it's a simple word, but you think it's not enough to describe how you feel about him, how you really feel about your best friend. It's much more than that.
“Yeah, I would've annoyed him too.” You softly smile at him.
“I know, love.” Because he knows you, and you know him too. Hobie utters the title more confidently, the word rolling off his tongue like butter. He makes it sound like he has been calling you that in his head for a long time. Maybe he has. “I know you would.”
He had the answer the whole time, it's not just you caring for him. It's love, it's love in its earliest state, it's love at its most innocent.
You love him, that revelation scares you, but it's better not knowing how you truly feel whenever he smiles at you and your heart skips a beat. Now you know, you'll tell him one day, one day when that feeling gnaws at your chest. But for now, you'll settle with drinking slurpees with him, you'll settle for skipping class so you could listen to records with him. For now you'll settle with loving him as his best mate, and for now, you're content just by being at his side.
#the kr8tor's creations#spider punk x reader#hobie brown x reader#atsv fanfic#atsv imagine#atsv x reader#atsv hobie#hobie fanfic#hobie fluff#hobie x reader#hobie brown x fem!reader#hobie brown x you#spider punk x fem!reader#spider punk x you#ttn#thread the needle#thread the needle oneshot#happy 1k!#cw food mention#ttn hobie and R#ttn au
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The Demonizing of Change
A trend I've noticed in modern media is that many stories have the message of "protect the status quo". Whether it's a Marvel movie or a fantasy book, the fact that so often the villains are the only ones who fight to change society remains the same.
We all know the story: they were hurt by the system's flaw(s) and so they rose up to destroy that harmful system and in the process destroyed themselves. I'm not saying that this character type is wrong or bad (definitely overused imo), but the framing of the narrative and the protagonists is the issue.
The narrative typically shows the villain's first wrong doing to be the act of rebelling against the system. From the moment the person chose to reject the harmful system, they were in the wrong, or so the narrative frames it. Meanwhile, the protagonist may question and see injustice but they never fight it; it's just accepted and blindly defended. What's worse is the audience chooses to completely accept this telling and sides with the harmful regime the protagonist defends.
I find that some of the most drastic examples of these issues are Daenerys in GOT and the Darkling in the Grishaverse/SaB.
Daenerys Targaryen
One thing I want to specify before I go into this is that Dany's GOT ending is purely bad writing. It's not foreshadowed or justified in any way, so I'll be addressing how D&D tried to frame her past after S8e6 aired and how her antis interpret her.
According to D&D, we should see the beginning of Dany's "madness arc" from the very first season. Namely how she reacted to Viserys' death. While this isn't Dany rejecting a harmful system, her choosing to not defend Viserys (why would she??) is also her choosing to leave behind the cycle of abuse of her early life. It also sets the precedent of Dany killing/allowing the deaths of evil men.
Speaking of evil men, D&D also tried to paint Dany's campaign against slavery as a sign of her "megalomania and madness". This is where we get to the actual fighting against the system. Dany is leading a slave revolt and forcefully overthrowing the masters and the oppressive governments.
The way D&D tried to spin it was that Dany was wrong for using violence, and Tyrion's peaceful method was more successful. Except Dany did try peace in Meereen, it didn't work. She made concessions, she made agreements, she locked up her dragons and they weren't working. That's the whole point of her last chapter in ADWD.
However, the show chose to make it so Dany was failing because she was "too violent" and ultimately made the freedmen hate her. This choice, a clear deviation from the book, is the beginning of them trying to make Dany fall into the trope of "as bad as those you're fighting". In her fight to end slavery, she becomes as oppressive as the masters.
Which is just blatantly wrong. We see in the show that the freedmen are still free, they sit in her councils, they can come to her with their complaints and she listens. Dany is a queen, not a master. The show was already trying to gaslight its audience into believing the opposite of what they wrote. The same goes for her supposed violence. The violence she exerts is almost always towards the slavers, except when she executed Mossador for murder. That was her carrying out justice, why that was portrayed as a bad thing is beyond me.
The implications of the choices D&D made in adapting Dany's Meereen arc are very disturbing. They're basically saying that systematic and centuries old oppression should never be addressed with violence. The people who actively fight oppression are just as bad as the oppressors. If you can't magically fix a system that's been flawed for centuries immediately, you're a tyrant.
The choice to resolve the arc by having Tyrion come in with some great peaceful solution was plain stupid and sexist. We have seen in history that trying to unobtrusively phase out slavery doesn't work. By leaving the elite slave owners in peace, they are allowed to simply find ways to get around or wear down the changes. We see that in ADWD in Meereen by the way. Also the whole idea that a wise man had to come and fix the irrational woman's problem is so gross.
So basically: D&D took an arc about fighting oppression and learning that concessions only continue the cycle of violence and made it into a story about how violence is bad and you can actually just reason with slavers.
The disgusting ideas continue in season eight, where Dany torches KL for no reason and is put down like a rabid dog. Dany is the only character who wants to end oppression in this show. She's the only person to see and experience the suffering of the oppressed and chooses to do something about it. Season seven is full of her talking about leaving the world a better place and breaking the wheel. But in season eight "breaking the wheel" is turned into th deranged battle cry of her desired empire.
Let me restate that: the one character who fought to end systematic oppression is turned into the "true oppressor". Dany's desire to tear down the system that the entire show established as being unjust and awful is made into a sign of madness. Even in season seven, people were rolling their eyes at her talking about breaking the wheel.
Meanwhile, the protagonists of the show end it benefitting from the same system that tortured them the whole time. Westerosi society is shit, but the show ends glorifying the sexist, homophobic, classist, and feudalist kingdoms. They even laugh at Samwell Tarly when he suggests destroying the monarchy. All this sends the message that embracing the system is good, rebellion bad, and shut the fuck up if you're not happy.
Dany was reduced to a cautionary tale against fighting the system. I've seen people frame it as "seeking power is bad", but that doesn't make sense, as characters like Sansa actively seek power and are rewarded by the narrative. Dany's mistake was trying to change the world, rather than supporting it as it is.
The Darkling
The Darkling is a very different character from Dany; he's an actual villain. Aleksander is someone who has already reached the "become what you hate most" part of the trope, so he spends the whole story committing atrocities. The issue with his portrayal is the fact that the narrative and protagonists never address his very real reasons for fighting in the first place.
The grisha as a group are persecuted all throughout Ravka, they have been for centuries. The whole reason Aleksander begins his fight was to protect his people. By the time the series begins, the grisha are more protected, though only because they have become weapons of the state. That was only through Aleksander's mechanisations.
Aleksander became a villain in his attempts to save his people, making him a tragic character. So he has perfectly fallen into the trope, and, unfortunately, so do the protagonists. Alina and her allies all have seen and suffered under the cruelty of the Ravkan monarchy, however, they quickly dismiss just how awful it is. By the end of the story, the Darkling has become, in their eyes, the sole perpetrator of evil in Ravka.
There are no attempts made to rectify the constant damage done by the Apparat, in fact he's left to run free. Alexander Lanstov and Tatiana Grimjer are simply shipped off to a private island where they never are made to pay for the awful things they have done. There are no political reforms done to ensure the safety of grisha in the future; they're basically relying on the goodwill Zoya and Alina have bought with the people.
So basically, the minor villains who all had no reason to be completely atrocious receive basically no punishment from the narrative. Meanwhile, Aleksander, who had very valid reasons for wanting to overthrow the government, is ultimately given a fate worse than death. All his reasons for hating the Ravkan government and the power it has are ignored, even though the story set up that he's not wrong. The resolution of the story leaves the grisha just as, if not more, vulnerable to the prejudice and hatred of the world than they were before.
The narrative is communicating that Aleksander rising up for his people is worse than the centuries of corrupt Lanstovs. Aleksander is worse than the man who stirs up religious fanaticism and exploits the people through it. Yes, Aleksander did horrible things, but so did every other antagonist in the series, but he's somehow the worst because...well, he's grisha.
That's the only other difference between him and the others, aside from his motives. So either Bardugo is supporting the in-universe prejudice against grisha or she's saying rising up against an oppressive system is wrong. I don't expect her or any other author to have complex political and social commentaries in her story. However, she chose to create a world containing those elements and a main character who suffers from them. She chose to make the issues with the system have a prominent place in the story. And she chose to ignore them in the end.
Aleksander did awful things in the name of a just cause, this creates a complex moral issue that the story just never addresses. The established injustices and sanctioned atrocities by the Lanstovs are all ignored in favor of bringing down the dangerous rebel. That kind of message is pretty fucked up. Yes, Nikolai is a better man than his father, but what about his descendants? The propaganda of the Apparat and his church are extremely strong, it's only a matter of time before that propaganda once again starts turning people against grisha. The hatred of grisha is still embedded into Ravkan society.
Aleksander was the only character who was actually set on protecting and bettering the lives of the grisha. His original mission was still extremely important, no matter what he devolved to. The fact that the protagonists just blatantly dismissed just how dangerous Ravka still is for grisha is frustrating.
The treatment of both Dany and Aleksander by their writers and narratives show a hatred/mistrust of rebellion against the status quo, no matter how atrocious it is. The message of the trope is that people who fight against a system are worse than the system itself. I'm not saying that was Bardugo's intention (D&D I'm much less sure about though), but the way both the Darkling and Dany were written combined with the endings of the stories support that idea.
#daenerys targaryen#aleksander morozova#the darkling#pro daenerys#pro darkling#anti d&d#anti got#anti leigh bardugo#asoiaf#grishaverse#the grisha trilogy
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Hot To Go
Summary: During Nesta's bachelor party, everyone agrees to pick out an embarrassing shirt for someone else. Emerie is game to play along until she realizes her long-standing crush Morrigan will be at the same bar.
Good thing Mor has a sense of humor.
For @ablogofsapphicpanic | Read on AO3
Thank you @octobers-veryown for the last minute moodboard
Fic based on this tiktok
“Nesta, please,” Emerie complained, holding the tissue papered bag sitting in her lap. “We don’t have—”
“Open it,” Nesta interrupted, crowned queen of the weekend by a plastic silver tiara. A white sash crossed her body with the words BRIDE-TO-BE stamped across it in purple lettering. Nesta wanted a different kind of bachelorette party—one where they spent the majority of their long weekend indoors watching movies and reading books. There was a pool out back they’d spent the morning lounging beside but tonight Emerie Archeron had convinced her older sister that they should go to the bar just once.
And then meddlesome, annoying, stupid Elain had made the worst suggestion Emerie had ever heard. What if we picked out bad shirts for each other? What if Emerie slapped her across the face, what then? Nesta would be pissed and Elain would cry, that's what would happen. Emerie didn’t want to go to the bar where she’d be surrounded by men in too tight t-shirts and hair gelled to the heavens. And she certainly didn’t want to spend the night pulling those same drunk losers off her friends only to get called a whole host of slurs she didn’t care to repeat.
Their husbands and boyfriends will kill you for fun, I’m doing you a favor.
If only you could casually mention that to strangers. As if those pathetic dudes would listen. Emerie would have to call up Azriel again, and Azriel’s general demeanor would destroy the vibe she had spent so much time cultivating. Even when he was incandescently happy he was brooding. Gwyn would spend all her time sitting in his lap while Nesta, Emerie, and Elain all blushed furiously every time he spoke, as if there was anything terribly special about him. Objectively, she supposed he was handsome but so what? A lot of men were.
Emerie was the last person at the table. With reluctance, she pulled out the glittery pink paper that had clearly been put together by Elain. It was simply too pretty to have been done by anyone else.
Unfolding the black material, Emerie groaned when she saw the image printed on the fabric. A brown meatball wearing leather bondage gear stared back at her. Even if she hadn’t understood the pun, the shirt ensure everyone would get the joke thanks to the white lettering that read: Meatball Sub.
Elain clapped her hands together, eyes bright with delight. “I thought that was so funny.”
Don’t ruin this, Emerie thought to herself. Meeting the brown eyes of Nesta’s younger sister from across the table, she forced an easy smile on her face.
“It is funny,” she lied. It was stupid. But this was for Nesta, and Emerie loved Nesta more than she hated the shirt. She’d bought so many nice outfits for this trip—tight slacks and even tighter tanktops, bodycon dresses that weren’t her favorite but looked good, paired with tall heels that made her tower over her friends, and even cute little shorts and t-shirts that showed off her body should some hot girl in a bikini be wandering by.
“Lets change and then head out,” Nesta said, cheeks flushed with excitement. Emerie shot a look at Gwyn, who merely shrugged delicate shoulders in response. They were sharing a room in the cabin Emerie’s husband had graciously given up for the next four days—if cabin was even what it could be called. More like massive-beach-house-worth-millions, but Emerie wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was interesting to her the way rich people described their things. This was hardly a cabin and yet to Rhysand, maybe it was. Maybe he considered this slumming it, somehow.
“It’s just a couple hours,” Gwyn reminded Emerie once the door to their shared room was firmly shut.
“I hate these bars,” Emerie complained, flopping onto the twin bed closest to the window. “It’s spring break—they’re crawling with frat douche losers that have never been told no in their lives.”
“You know why she really wants to go, right?” Gwyn asked, pulling her shirt off to put the offensive one overtop.
“If you say Cassian—”
“He’s somewhere around here, and I think she just wants to see him,” Gwyn said with a relish. “He was giving her all that shit about staying in when she should be going wild. Now Nesta can show him she’s having fun his way, too.”
“And what happens when Az catches some loser putting his hands on you?” Emerie asked, rising up on her elbows to look at Gwyn.
“He’ll have to deal with it in an emotionally intelligent way.”
“Is that what he’s calling his fists these days?”
Gwyn grinned. “Just let her have this. One night of embarrassment for a weekend of quiet.”
“Fine.”
Emerie got ready like she would for any other club-like event, putting a full face of make up on and carefully curling her hair to make it look as though she’d come straight from the beach once she finger combed out the waves into messy waves. All that was left was the stupid shirt and a pair of skin tight leggings beneath.
There were never any interesting women at these places. It almost didn’t matter what she looked like, except Emerie took a small amount of satisfaction knowing that when a man inevitably called her an ugly bitch they’d be lying through their teeth.
Gwyn had done even less, slicking on some mascara and tinted chapstick before calling it a day. Of the three of them, these types of places made her the most uncomfortable. She’d go only for Nesta, and was likely only smiling because she believed Azriel was going to be there. Still, Gwyn never tried to accentuate how beautiful she was, nervous of the unwanted attention—as if what had happened to her was her fault.
“Want to stick together?” Emerie asked, noting the way Gwyn’s teal eyes filled with relief.
“Yes,” she breathed, rising to her feet. Emerie tugged at the too-big shirt that fell just beneath the curve of her ass, wishing she was wearing anything else.
“If it starts getting rowdy, we can go somewhere else,” Emerie promised, looping her arm through Gwyn’s.
“I was googling lesbian bars,” Gwyn said with a grin. “There’s one a couple blocks away if you want to…you know…”
“Shut up,” Emerie said, elbowing her friend gently in the ribs.
“It’s been a while,” Gwyn pressed on, undaunted by Emerie’s obvious embarrassment. “And I didn’t like the last girl, whatever her name was. Too…”
Emerie sighed. “Unfaithful?”
“That too,” Gwyn said with a scowl.
“I don’t think you meet marriageable women at bars,” Emerie reminded Gwyn, annoyed that Cassian had met Nesta in a college bar and was now marrying her. It had started off a chain reaction in their tiny friend group—Azriel was so obviously just biding his time, waiting for Cassian to get married so he could propose.
And then Emerie would be the only single person among married women. Would they even want to hang out with her anymore? Would they stay friends? It kept her up at night. Emerie knew if she gave voice to these insecurities, her friends would rush to reassure her it wasn’t true and she’d feel no better. She just wasn’t having the same luck in the romance department.
Squeezing into one car, Emerie managed to snag the passenger seat from Elain, who pouted in the back but otherwise said nothing. If nothing else, Emerie considered that a victory even if she was out voted and Taylor Swift blared the entire way to the bar.
“It’s busy,” Nesta said, eyes scanning the line of people waiting to get in.
“Send Elain up,” Emerie suggested, glancing at her older sister.
“In this?” Elain demanded as she held out her comically oversized shirt. “Don’t make me.”
It didn’t matter, ultimately. The bouncer caught sight of Nesta strolling by in heels and waved her in while eyeing her up and down. Nesta pretended she didn’t notice but both Emerie and Emerie did, glaring daggers from just behind her before handing over their ID.
And then they were inside. The music was so loud Emerie could barely hear herself think, teeth rattling in time with the beat. It was her job to elbow through the crowd hanging around the bar and scream everyone's order over the music before doling out drinks while watching the man who made them. Just in case. She didn’t like the way he was open mouthed staring at Elain, who seemed to have the effect on everyone who saw her.
While the rest of the group made their way to the dance floor, Gwyn and Emerie secured the last high top in a pretty secluded corner where the music didn’t seem to be quite so loud and they could talk.
“I’m gonna sit closer,” Gwyn told Emerie, putting her hand over top of Emerie’s as a man began walking toward them. He turned abruptly, realizing he’d have no luck over here which had been Gwyn’s obvious goal if her triumphant smile was anything to go by.
“Oh, look!” she said, pointing across the room. It was, just as Gwyn had predicted, Cassian and Azriel towering over the crowd, unaware that Nesta was a few feet away dancing in a god-awful shirt. As Emerie watched, she found Rhysand holding several drinks in one hand and cutting a path through a crowd that parted like the red sea. She’d have looked away, annoyed by the converging parties had she not noticed who was walking just behind Rhys.
There, in a red dress so tight it might have been painted against tanned skin, stood Morrigan. Emerie was embarrassed by how hot she thought Rhys’s cousin was, and yet… Christ. Her blonde hair cascaded like sunlight down her back and her brown eyes were crowned with gold just around the iris, visible even in the dim lighting of the club. Emerie had never been able to get words out in front of Morrigan, so she just avoided her, embarrassed to be a cliche. The lesbian with a crush on a straight girl—it was a constant theme in her life, especially when she was younger.
She’d asked Nesta about Morrigan once, who’d gone on a rant about Mor sleeping with Lucien’s dad, and Emerie had dropped the subject. There was no love lost between them—apparently Cassian and Mor had a thing a million years ago, too.
Still. She was the most beautiful woman Emerie had ever seen, and it was a shame that beauty would be wasted on some loser that would never really appreciate her.
“Oh, here they come,” Gwyn said, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. Cassian had caught sight of her and Gwyn, waving across the crowd as Rhys set drinks down in the booth she bet he’d paid actual money for. He beckoned for the two of them to join.
“Gwyn—”
“Rhys will pay our tab if we go,” she said, silencing any protests Emerie might offer. Rhys did always pay when they were all together and unlike Rhys, Emerie had to work for a living. If he was willing to foot the tab for overpriced drinks filled with more water than cheap vodka, who was she to say no?
They sauntered over, Emerie’s heart racing as Mor’s eyes fell on her. She whispered something to her cousin, who stood and traded places so when she and Gwyn arrived, Mor said, “Em! Sit by me.”
Gwyn was already—and predictably—in Azriel’s lap, whispering something in his ear that made his cheeks darken noticeably. So it was like that then, was it? Emerie plopped down while Rhys shoved at Az so he could edge out space on the end of the booth.
“What are you wearing?” Mor asked, her laugh more like a herald of bells. Emerie was flustered, breathing the same air and unable to take her eyes off Mor’s red painted mouth.
“Oh. Uh…”
“It was Elain’s idea!” Gwyn called from across the table, shooting Emerie a wink they all noticed.
Cassian rolled his eyes when he heard. “No offense, but…Meatball Sub?”
“It’s a pun,” Emerie explained in a deadpan, forgetting about Mor for just a second. Just until Mor scooted, her knee accidentally brushing Emeries. Had she meant to do that? “You know, like a meatball sub sandwich? But it’s wearing a gag, like a—”
“I get the joke!” Cassian snapped, eyes narrowed. Mor tipped her head back and laughed, unaware of how hard Emerie’s heart was beating at the sight.
“Are you sure, Cass?” Mor asked, leaning back against the padded booth so her palm was flat against the seat. Her pinky touched Emerie’s, causing Emerie to jerk her hand back as if she’d been burned. Was that an accident, too? She was terrified to look over and realize she’d read it wrong, and more scared to look over and even more scared to look and find Mor had meant to touch her.
Mor was just friendly, she reminded herself. She was always draped all over Emerie when they were out together. It was nothing—a mere accident.
Cassian scooted his way out to find Nesta, still scowling over at Mor and Emerie.
“So,” Mor said, turning entirely to face Emerie. She pulled her hand from the seat to rest her head against her fist. Eyes wholly focused on Emerie, she continued, “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
“Oh…you know,” Emerie replied, suddenly embarrassed by the attention. “Nothing interesting.”
“I don’t believe that for a second. C’mon,” she cajoled, her free hand squeezing Emerie’s knee. “I want to hear about it anyway. I feel like we never get to talk and you’re so interesting!”
Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god—
“You first,” Emerie said, unsure where that came from. Mor grinned as she leaned closer, unaware of how the movement pushed her breasts up toward her neck. Emerie could see from the corner of her eye, though she was trying hard not to actually look.
“Oh, you know. I got dragged along to Cass’s bachelor party,” Mor began, looking around the bar. “This place sucks but if I smile at the bouncer, they let us all in for free.”
“Nesta did the same thing,” Emerie told Mor. “Where are you guys staying?”
She nodded with her head in the direction of the DJ. “ Rhys gave up the cabin so we’re at the resort. It’s pretty nice—I was at the pool all morning before Cass dragged us out here.”
“Same,” Emerie replied with a sigh as she leaned back in the booth. “Now I’m out…in this.”
“Stop,” Mor said as she toyed with Emerie’s sleeve. “I think it’s cute.”
“It’s not,” Emerie grumbled, heart racing all over again. Mor was so close and she smelled so good, it was making it hard to think.
“Is…is that something you’re interested in?” Mor asked casually, eyes drifting back to the shirt.
“No!” Emerie hastened to say, embarrassed all over again. “No, nothing like that.”
“So you don’t like being tied up?” Mor pressed, eyes practically burning a hole in Emerie’s skull.
“I…I’m not against it, I guess?” she managed, reaching for her glass to give her mouth something to do.
Mor began twirling a lock of golden hair around a perfectly manicured finger. “What room are you staying in?”
“The upstairs one with the twin beds,” she said quickly. Mor laid her land back against the table and this time Emerie noticed that while the ring and pinkie finger were long and sharp, the middle and pointer were shorter. Blunter.
Emerie looked up at Mor, who was watching her with cat-like intensity. Was she doing this on purpose?
“I have my own room,” she said casually, a sly smile spreading over a truly beautiful face. “That’s the benefit of being the only girl on a guy's trip.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It’s quiet,” Mor continued, dragging her finger over the condensation that had dripped to the table. “Overlooks the beach.”
Emerie offered a weak smile. “I’m jealous.”
“Want to see it?” Mor asked bluntly, sighing ever so slightly. “I’m bored of this place. Too many drunk guys that think every ass needs to be touched.”
“What about Cass—”
“He won’t care if I’m missing. I was invited out of pity, anyway. I’m sure you know Nesta isn’t my biggest fan.”
Mor was scooting closer, indicating Emerie should get out of the booth. Fishing her phone from her clutch, Emerie sent a quick text to Nesta and Gwyn.
Heading out with Mor for a bit—gonna get some air and talk a bit. Meet you back at the house.
Mor slunk off to tell Rhys, who glanced over at Emerie before saying something that earned a vicious punch to the shoulder. Rhys only grinned, gripping his arm, as Mor made her way back to Emerie.
“All good?”
“All good,” Emerie agreed, still impossibly nervous. They said nothing as they made their way out, fingers brushing each time the crowd surged around them, forcing them closer before they could spring apart again. Mor seemed comfortable with the whole thing and Emerie was jealous. She wanted Mor’s easy confidence.
“I heard you slept with Lucien’s dad,” Emerie blurted out the moment they were out beneath the starry summer sky.
Mor grinned. “Yeah? I did,” she said without embarrassment. “I didn’t know he was Lucien’s dad, in my defense. He was just…some hot guy I thought was interesting.”
“Is that your type, then?”
Mor’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Do you not know?”
Emerie shook her head no, throat coated with sand.
“I just figured…” Mor shook her head, her smile undimmed. “My type is tall, dark, and gorgeous. Lucien’s dad almost fits the bill…but I prefer women.”
“Oh,” Emerie said, unable to think of anything more clever to say. “I just figured…”
“I’m not opposed to men for a night, but I’d never date one. God, can you imagine?” she said with a laugh.
“No,” Emerie admitted with relief. “I saw Cassian and Azriel’s shared bathroom, I think I’ll pass.”
“I know, right? God, I used to clean it for them when they all shared a dorm room.”
“You’re better than me,” Emerie replied with a shudder. The thought of cleaning their shared bathroom made her want to vomit. She could only imagine how gross it must have looked.
“Cassian got it together when he met Nesta. He knew she wasn’t going to tolerate pee all over the toilet.”
“He’s right,” Emerie agreed with a laugh. “Nesta is immaculate.”
“And you?”
Emerie’s stomach flipped over as Mor’s shoulder brushed hers. “I uh…probably not as much. I keep a lot of plants at my place so it’s…you know…crowded.”
“Plants? Anything else?” Mor asked, eyes burning like the stars overhead.
“I have a cat,” Emerie told her, thinking of her little apartment back in Velaris. “Her name is Mist.”
“Like one of the thirteen,” Mor said knowingly, unaware of how Emerie’s knees shook.
“You like mythology?”
“Not really,” she admitted as they crossed the street toward the large resort just across the way. Palm trees swayed in the wind, breaking up the traffic nicely. “But Cass said you did, so…”
“Why would Cassian tell you that?” Emerie demanded without thinking. “That’s kind of weird.”
Mor’s cheeks flushed orange beneath the artificial lights overhead.
“I asked him what you liked,” she admitted.
“Why?” Emerie, at least, could guess why. She wasn’t that obtuse, after all. Still, she wanted to hear the words leave Mor’s pretty lips, if only to put her mind at ease.
“You’re beautiful,” Mor admitted as Emerie rushed ahead to open the door for her. Mor thought she was beautiful? A breeze could have carried her away. “I just figured Cass blabbed.”
“Nope. He kept it a total secret,” she said, unable to help her grin.
“Oh. Well…that…I just figured you knew and—”
“I have such a crush on you,” Emerie blurted out while Mor pressed the button for the elevator. “When I saw you tonight, and I realized I was wearing this shirt, I just…”
“Stop, I love it,” Mor lied, fingers skimmed the back of Emerie’s elbow. “You look so cute. Besides, I got to ask if you liked being tied up which made it totally worth it.”
“Is that why I’m here? To be your meatball sub?” Emerie joked, heart racing all the same.
“Hardly,” Mor replied with a laugh. “We can do whatever you want.”
“And if I wanted to kiss you?”
Mor sucked in a soft breath. “That would be nice.”
They were in an elevator—this wasn’t how Emerie imagined it. And right then, drinking in the sight of Mor who was nearly as tall as she was even in heels, Emerie thought he might die of want if she didn’t kiss Mor. Stepping closer, all Emerie could think about was how nice Mor smelled. Emerie just needed to know if Mor tasted half as good.
Sliding her fingers into Mor’s unbound hair, Emerie pressed her lips to Mor’s as Mor stepped back, hitting the mirrored wall with a soft, sweet sigh. Hell, she tasted sweeter than Emerie had imagined even as her lipstick smeared across Emerie’s mouth. She wanted to see it stained over her skin, too, proof that they’d been together.
One chaste kiss became two, became a third, until Emerie was practically flush against Mor. She’d forgotten where they were until the doors dinged open and the sound of voices pulled apart. The pair looked behind them to find a couple staring right back, eyes wide.
Emerie wasn’t going to apologize and was grateful when Mor didn’t either. She merely burst into giggles before slipping her hand in Emerie’s and tugging her out.
“Whoops,” Mor whispered, fishing her keycard out of her clutch. “Lost track of things in there.”
“Same,” Emerie agreed, heart thudding. “I uh…look. I really like you. And maybe I should go and just…call you? In the morning?”
“Or,” Mor suggested as she swung the door open wide, “you could stay with me tonight and let me buy you brunch in the morning? You can borrow one of my suits if you want and we could hang out by the pool?”
“I want to take you on a date,” Emerie said firmly, desperate to go inside.
“Okay,” Mor said, still standing in front of the open door. “So do I. Will you come inside, now?”
Emerie nodded, grateful to have gotten that out of the way. She’d sworn she wasn’t doing any more one night stands that ended in hurt feelings. That was especially important for her and Mor given they were going to be seeing so much of each other long after this ended.
Mor’s room was a suite, complete with a living room and a kitchen. The balcony doors were thrown open, allowing salty summer air to flood through the room. Taking her hand, Mor led Emerie down a short hallway to the room she’d obviously been sleeping in—the bed was still unmade. A little succulent sat on a nightstand and the room itself smelled like the candy sweet of Mor’s perfume. Emerie wanted to bury her face in the pillow and inhale deeply.
“You ruined my grand gesture,” Mor told her, closing the door quietly behind them. “Will you be my date to Cass’s wedding?”
The grin that spread across Emerie’s face threatened to split her in half. “Yeah. Of course I will.”
Mor exhaled. “Good. I’ll have the hottest date there.”
Emerie rolled her eyes, cheeks burning all the same. It would be her with the hottest date, but who needed to quibble, truly? Not when Mor was standing right in front of her, chin inclined with so much expectations. There was a bed right behind and if Emerie played her cards right, she’d know exactly how Mor tasted by the end of the night.
Indecision gripped her. Did she just kiss her? Touch her? Push her to the bed and strip her naked before committing Mor’s naked form to memory?
“Get out of your own head,” Mor whispered, sliding her hand around Emerie’s neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you want me to?”
“Maybe,” Emerie admitted, the thought filling her with heat.
This time, Mor took the lead. Slipping out of her heels, Mor had to lift up on her tiptoes in order to meet Emerie’s mouth and Emerie liked the sight of it. Or, maybe she merely liked the sight of Mor’s unabashed desire, a mirror for her own. It felt good to be wanted, especially by a woman Emerie had a crush on.
She could admire her good fortune later. Right then, Mor was tugging her back, falling to the unmade bed behind them with a soft, dreamy sigh. She was so soft and smelled like almonds and cherry, her lips stick from the gloss over her lipstick. Emerie was drunk on the taste of her tongue in her mouth, obsessed with Mor’s soft skin beneath her fingertips. Blonde curls swirled around her head like an angel and when Mor opened her eyes to look, Emerie found her eyes so dark they looked as though they were all iris. Were it not for that familiar ring of gold, she might have been lost.
Mor reached up and brushed a lock of Emerie’s hair behind her ear. “You’re so pretty,” Mor sighed sweetly.
“No, you,” Emerie replied like a petulant school child. Mor laughed and Emerie kissed her again, teeth clashing as they giggled. It took a moment for the silliness to fade back into undiluted desire. Emerie slid to the side of Mor’s body, one leg draped over her hip as she tried to decide what she ought to do.
Mor seemed to notice her indecision or perhaps knew that she was impossibly nervous. “Lay back,” she whispered with sultry eyes. Emerie did as she was told, fingers bunching the white sheets with more nerves. Mor straddled her waist before running a finger over Emerie’s exposed collarbone.
Mor pulled her leggings off, pausing at the shirt for a moment before sliding her fingers beneath the fabric to drag her knuckles over Emerie’s bare skin as she lifted it over her head. Emerie shivered, goosebumps trailing behind Mor’s touch, her desperation to touch and taste every inch of Mor reaching a fever pitch. She did feel a moment of embarrassment when Mor looked down her body, hidden only by an unremarkable bra and a pair of nude panties. If she’d known…
Mor sighed, leaning to kiss Emerie again with more passion before. Emerie felt clumsy and almost embarrassed as she, too, unhooked Mor’s zipper and slid it down, but fair was fair, right? And she wanted to feel Mor’s breasts pressed against her chest, wanted to see if all of her was as smooth as she seemed.
Mor was in a matching lace set and somehow Emerie imagined that was just how she always was. Every bra came with a matching pair of panties, every day was carefully planned. Mor was immaculate in a way Emerie could never hope to emulate, which only made her like Mor more.
“What do you like?” Mor whispered, breath warm against Emerie’s face. “Do you like…?”
“Everything,” Emerie breathed. “All of it.”
“Everything?” Mor asked, amusement sparkling. With a touch, she had Emerie’s bra unhooked and when had she even gotten her hand back there? Mor cocked her head, golden hair spilling over her naked shoulder as she looked at Emerie. “Giving? Receiving?”
“Yeah,” Emerie began, rising up earnestly. “Let me—”
Mor pushed her gently to the bed, shaking her head back and forth. “Me first.”
“What do you like?”
“You,” Mor replied with a grin, unhooking her own bra casually before dropping it off the side of the bed. Emerie felt her brain short circuit, hands moving on their own accord to touch rosy nipples and soft skin. How was Mor real? Surely she was hallucinating and would wake up any moment in some dirty bar bathroom, still dressed in that terrible shirt while Mor continued to ignore her existence.
Emerie got what she wanted, dream or not. Mor leaned down, pressing her breasts against Mor to kiss her again, and again, her tongue stroking Emerie’s with a feverish hunger that left her breathless and desperate. She could have died happy just kissing Mor. They were silk on silk, kissing like they had all the time in the world. Emerie wanted to savor it, to drag the moment out for an eternity.
Mor’s fingers slid down Emerie’s stomach, skimming over hip bones as she asked, “Can I?” “Yes,” Emerie panted, arching her hips just enough to offer full, unbridled permission. Mor removed her plain panties, leaving Emerie laid bare before Mor’s hungry brown eyes. Mor didn’t linger, dragging her lips over Emerie’s bare skin as she settled between Emerie’s parted thighs. Oh, god.
Emerie gasped, tangling her fingers back in Mor’s hair, passion and need rising in her throat. Every little brush of Mors body against her own was a wildfire. Emerie couldn’t stop touching—Mor’s silky hair, her smooth back, the slope of her neck. She needed to map out Mor’s body with her fingertips first, though she wanted to trace each soft curve with her tongue next.
Emerie gathered up Mor’s thick, blonde curls as Mor settled herself against the sheets, peering up for just a moment. Just to confirm, Emerie realized, that she still wanted this. Emerie exhaled a breath and tugged, silent permission to the unasked question.
I’ll die if you don’t, she wanted to say.
“Tell me to stop,” Mor breathed, pushing Emerie’s legs further apart, “if I do something you don’t like.”
Emerie’s brain had stopped entirely. All she knew was Mor between her thighs, her finger slowly exploring the wet expanse of Emerie’s aching, tender flesh. Emerie had expected her to lower her mouth—or maybe she’d hoped, at any rate—but Mor was content merely to watch and touch, drawing forth Emerie’s undeniable arousal. Mor kissed the insides of Emerie’s legs, moving slowly upwards towards the thatch of trimmed curls just above her pussy.
“You’re so pretty,” Mor whispered into the hair, kissing there, too. “I like this.”
Emerie sighed again, relaxing against the pillow. Excitement bloomed hot in her stomach, traveling past her navel like little frissons of electricity. Mor, too, took a steadying breath and Emerie wondered if it was possible the unshakable Mor was nervous, too.
Emerie almost asked, but then Mor’s face was against Emerie, tongue licking and Emerie moaned, the only form of language left to her. Mor exhaled again, her warm breath fanning against Emerie’s overheated pussy. Emerie felt overstimulated already, keyed up and excited. Every fantasy she’d ever had of this exact scenario paled in comparison to the real thing. Every touch was soft and precise, the touch of someone who knew what she was doing and liked doing it. Mor moaned, fingers gripping Emerie’s thighs to push her even wider, until Emerie merely draped them over Mor’s shoulders.
The sight was so erotic that Emerie could have come from that alone. Digging her heels against Mor’s shoulder blades, Emerie whispered soft encouragement.
“That’s perfect,” she hissed as Mor’s tongue lapped at her aching, needy clit. Emerie couldn’t stop staring, wished she had a camera so she could see everything Mor was doing with her mouth, too. Mor, too, seemed transfixed, eyes bouncing between Emerie’s face and what was happening between her legs.
Mor’s eyes occasionally fluttered shut, the sight punctuated by the softest, appreciative moan. It looked as if Mor wanted to savor the taste of Emerie, wanted to drag things out as long as possible. Emerie wanted that, too, desperately counting in her head to stave off the building arousal pooling low against her spine.
Mor’s finger rimmed around her opening, offering the lightest pressure without penetrating. Her tongue stayed firmly on her clit, slowly increasing the speed until Emerie was panting and tugging at Mor’s hair, needy and desperate. She was so close, was practically flying off that edge into nothing.
“Oh God, Mor—” Emerie choked out her release, arching so hard her toes curled and white hot spots bloomed in her vision. Every muscle in her body was taut and she felt nothing, was nothing but the pleasure rolling through her.
Emerie sat up the very first moment she was able, reaching for Mor to put her in her lap, their legs tangled, bodies rocking together and Emerie kissed Mor hungrily. She could taste her own arousal on Mor’s mouth, her tongue chasing after it greedily.
Emerie slid her hand between their bodies, delighted to feel Mor was practically dripping wet.
“You don’t have–”
“Please?” Was all Emerie could think to say. She wanted to reciprocate like she’d never wanted in her life. Mor kissed her again and again, each kiss sliding one to the other until Emerie was dizzy and needy again. Emerie forced herself to focus, repositioning them so it was Mor back against the pillows and Emerie straddling her body.
Emerie could still feel the remnants of that orgasm throbbing through her, prompting her to rub against Mor even as she mimicked everything Mor had done. Feyer was clumsier, too needy to be half as sensual as Mor had been. Still, Mor whined when Emerie reached for a nipple, rolling it between her fingers until it was stiff and rosy red. The same color as Mor’s lipstick stained mouth.
Emerie experimented, grazing her teeth just a little. Mor moaned, eyes rolling upwards in her skull as her body undulated against Emerie’s. It was enough to keep Emerie going, to suck and nip and lick until Mor was practically panting, her tanned skin flushed the prettiest shade of pink.
Every inch of Mor was a dream—smooth, lush curves were soft beneath Emerie’s wandering hands. She marveled as she slid lower and lower, suddenly eye level with Mor’s glistening, pink pussy.
Fuck she was beautiful.
Emerie stared a beat too long before she couldn’t stop herself from spreading Mor open wider, parting to truly look.
“Is this what you want?” Emerie whispered.
“Please,” came Mor’s trembling reply. That was the confidence Emerie needed to lower her mouth and take that first taste.
It was nothing like she’d imagined and better than she’d ever expected. Her whole body lit up at the musky sweetness of Mor’s body and the way Mor’s thighs trembled around Emerie’s head. Emerie enthusiastically swiped again, licking only for herself in that first moment. Just to know, to become accustomed to the wet, slick, soft feel of Mor’s pussy and how it made her own body feel.
Her arousal sharpened when Mor dragged her long nails over Emerie’s scalp, holding her hair while watching with intensely dark eyes. Emerie focused, thinking of what Mor had done for her. She swirled her tongue over the trembling nub of flesh and was rewarded with a breathy, “Oh God, don’t stop.”
As if Emerie could. She replicated what Mor had done with her finger, pushing just against the opening of her pussy and circling, her tongue steady and hot. Mor writhed against her face, coating her in the slick release building in her body. And when Mor came with a breathy cry, Emerie felt it reverberate in her chest.
It was Mor who reached for her this time, dragging her up to lay on her side so they could press their bodies against the other and kiss. Emerie tangled her arms around Mors neck while Mor caressed her face, their combined release erotic in Emerie’s mouth. Nothing had ever tasted better and she found herself wanting Mor again just as soon as she caught her breath.
Mor leaned her arm over the edge of the bed, picking up Emerie’s ugly shirt. “Can I have this?” she asked, mascara smeared just beneath her eyes.
“Why?”
“It smells like you,” Mor said, pressing the fabric against her nose. “And I think it's funny.”
Propping her head up on her fist, Emerie smiled. “Is that all it takes? One bad shirt?”
“What can I say,” Mor replied, pressing a kiss to Emerie’s cheek. “I’m easy.”
Emerie only smiled.
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Diahann Carroll Vs. Rue McClanahan
Propaganda
Diahann Carroll - (Dynasty, Julia) - God every clip of her on Dynasty is just so iconic, her entrance, the bit where she shades Joan Collins' Alexis for her taste in caviar... "I wanted to be the first black bitch on television" she said, and she did it beautifully!
Rue McClanahan - (Golden Girls, Maude, Mama's Family) - Listen to me. I have never understood celebrity crushes until I first witnessed Rue McClanahan. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen - just look at her!! Gorgeous eyes, the cutest nose, a SPECTACULAR smile - she has this adorable, princess-like quality about her AND she's also a complete hottie AND she's aware of it: she HAS THE RANGE, people!! Her two most famous roles are polar opposites, in fact: she starred in the role of naive, gentle Vivian Cavender-Harmon in Maude (and I mean. Just look her up and tell me that's not an angel!), and then went on to gain even more well-deserved fame and success as the seductive, extroverted Blanche Devereaux in The Golden Girls (a role for which she won an Emmy in 1987 - her amazing, hilarious acceptance speech can be found here: . I should also point out that both of these are comedy characters and she is HILARIOUS as them both - the comedic timing, the delivery, the expressions, she was a comedy queen!!! As for her personal life, she was just a darling - and also very funny in person, not just in her acting roles! She was a staunch supporter of gay rights and a big advocate for same-sex marriage in the US, as well as a vegetarian and a big defender of animal rights. She suffered from illness in her later years which greatly impacted her health, but she was still very active up until her death in 2010, and she even released a wonderful autobiography in 2007 titled "My First Five Husbands... and the Ones Who Got Away". In her interviews she's always gentle, soft-spoken (her voice. dear god. sweet mother Aphrodite I cannot weave I am overcome with gay thoughts), and kind, but also sharp, witty, and just a delight to watch. I could go on forever talking about her honestly. I am actually in love with her and you should be too. She's just the best! Here, have some additional pics: (pics below the cut)
Master Poll List of the Hot Vintage TV Ladies Bracket
Additional propaganda below the cut
Diahann Carroll:
Diahann Carroll's First Scene on "Dynasty"
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Rue McClanahan:
The Hottie™ of the Golden Girls, she was definitely a GILF. And her character's shenanigans were Emmy-winning but no less fun and her outfits were always on point and gorgeous, befitting her perfectly.
she!!!
as Vivian, with her fellow hottie Bea Arthur as Maude
as Blanche - look at those eyes!!!
come on, tell me you wouldn't do anything for that smile, I dare you
in her contract she specifically requested to be given all of Blanche's clothes and SHE WAS RIGHT
Okay so first of all. Rue has this way of moving around and looking at you that just-- I mean, I'm ace, but I *get* the allos. She's hot and she knows it (and she plays a character in The Golden Girls who's in her 50s, hot, and knows it as well. Which, talk about perfect casting??) But I'm mostly here to talk about the fact that she said this in her Emmy acceptance speech (paraphrased because I'm sharing the video with the right timestamp, and you should absolutely watch up until 3:40, because her delivery is UNMATCHED): "My mother said to me once [...] 'Oh, Eddi-Rue, for heaven's sake. Don't you know every kick's a boost?' There've been a lot of kicks, and there've been a lot of boosts. I'm not going to mention the people who gave me kicks... but you know who you are. And you'll be in the book." (Seriously though, do yourself a favour and watch that video. She's amazing!!) She said this, and proceeded to WRITE THE BOOK, titled "My first five husbands, and the ones who got away", which is *incredibly* funny, and such an earnest look into her life. She opens the acknowledgements with "This book is about my life and experiences as I lived them, and anyone who doesn't like it can jolly well lump it." And I mean... she's awesome. I could go on.
Rue McClanahan @ The Emmy Awards 1987
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To all my online shit stirrers out there:
Top tip. Want to make them quake? Not know how to respond back? Make them look like a complete buffoon?
Quote sources! I started doing this around 2 weeks ago. Before, responding to [blatantly false] facts would always end up in a virtual spitting match. Since Quoting Sources, I have had a 0% response rate!
A response denying that uterine transplants of trans women have no use? Source!
A response saying that a flying coaster is dangerous because "all it takes is one thing to brake and you're having a belly flop no one wants."? Well that's absurd. Why? No source!
This is only a small peek at what Quoting Sources can do for you! It shuts them up like magic!
Also see: asking people for THEIR sources! See a person stating a person died because a 'ride was so intense'? Ask them their source! It causes an awkward virtual silence you can truly revel in. Sometimes these facts are true, but it's good to see where these people get their facts so you can practice critical thinking either way!
[Quoting/Citing sources is good practise for topics with a lot of misinformation and feelings targeted at it which can cover topics from rollercoaster safety, to transgender biology, to the Palestinian genocide. It's always morally right to be thoroughly educated by trustworthy sources - No, the news typically isn't a trustworthy source. I recommend looking at papers/blueprints/Wikipedia (as they usually cite their sources).]
[[Don't forget to always cite your source as you quote it. It has a much better impact and also Plagiarism Isn't Cool.]]
Also see: Why exactly you would be more informed on the subject than the person you are arguing with. Why should they trust you?
#lol just had this idea come to me#but gen it is so fun#also reading the sources is nicely stimulated#sadly i did give up on learning INTENSE biology after GCSE cause Me No Likey but! its nice to keep up with the advances#im so happy for trans women who are able to get their transplants and other required surgeries#go kill it queens. go make history!#on a more somber and serious note. I volunteer at a community ran book store right? and last time i was there we got this customer#a senior who always had a stern look on her face but wasnt overtly cruel. who would get annoyed if we couldnt find a book with her exact#description but who always leaned in to make sure she heard what we were saying. she came in and asked for a book on Palestinian history.#so that she could make an informed decision on the genocide on the middle east. It may not be a ceasefire - which i stand by that EVERYONE#should be calling ceasefire. The complications can be settled afterwards - but she may be. i dont know her personally. but she had an#instinct to get to the truth. not what news outlets were telling her. what the TRUTH was. It really touched me. my nan isnt like that. my#grandad isnt like that. theyll listen to what we tell them. but they wont go looking for it.#anyway#if youre reading this : dont forget to click the button today#look at all the links im reposting if u see them#donate if you feesibly can#would also like to note: revolution is not pretty. there are things to be done to increase visibility. those arent necessarily selling#lemonade at a cardboard stand. its throwing soups at protected artworks. its sitting in the way of private jets. its oiling the PMs private#home. its marching. its shouting. its making people know menstruating people in Gaza are using tents as sanitary products.#how kHamas has agreed to several ceasefire terms while Isnotreal withdrew#dont forget to spread the news. that is a form of protest by itself. your actions matter.
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sometimes a girl with whimsy is also good at politics even when she sees the officials threatened by her just being That Good when she's just trying to survive and wishes to tell them to join the war themselves if they're that scared of her and she can be left alone
born to play music and chill, forced to fight for her life against demons and bureaucrats
#ama plays pwotr#ama mumbles#my girl listening to lann and daeran 'you have no idea how much i want to go with one of your ideas. but if i did we would starve.'#for context this isn't like a war against a rivaling kingdom and all that political stuff#they're literally just fighting demons who will slaughter en masse literally everyone else if theyre not dealt with#and she was just a civilian trying to not be killed that the queen herself decided to make a figure head#shes a bard! literally in no way warranted to become a general other than that she got some weird powers that ppl think are from god#i think this is what inquisition writers wanted me to in character feel during the council but i didn't#also i the player am not annoyed but i can definitely see her being annoyed. like they Just reclaimed a lost outpost#'maybe i should go back to my chaotic ways instead of just being good. that will bring me peace i think.'
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Petty? Pretty.
Kim Chaewon x M Reader | 🔞 Smut
[Enemies to Lovers, Academic Rivals, Fake Dating]
Word Count: 5,385
You sighed as you put the pen down at the table. It was your final exam for the year, meaning that all your hard work has officially paid off. The projects you made were certainly extraordinary, definitely leagues apart for the company you were in. However, the pressure of coming in second was like a pump shotgun being shot into the back of your head multiple times. You know, you cannot let Chaewon win again this year.
Of course, Kim Chaewon. The school's greatest academe mind since, ever. Always getting the top grades, the top approval, and all the top boys. The latter which, you really didn't care for. But she had the run of the mill, taking the best with her for her own pleasure. Stories and rumors of her taking the university's quarterback spread around like wildfire. She'd deny it, but everyone knew otherwise.
You roamed around the halls in deep thought, the heavy weight of your books in your hand was very aching, but you were close to dumping them into your locker.
"Finally..." You sighed after arriving at your locker and opening the combination, and only then dumping the books inside.
Vacation was on your mind, but you knew the year isn't over yet. A familiar scent was on your tail, and you knew exactly who wears that specific perfume in your school.
Turning around, you found the academic goddess herself, standing beside you with her bag slinging by her side and giving you a stare. "I hope you did better than you did last year, it was almost too easy for me to beat you." Chaewon said, confidently and with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at her and crossed your arms, "I've had enough of your gloating, Kim. You're an egomaniac and you really need to get yourself checked before you break down once you see I did better than you."
"Big talk for someone who's only ever beaten me once, in a team debate, no less." Her voice pierced through your heart, and it did hurt. Sure, you did never beat her one on one, but you fought her so hard that you'd get recognized and put in the same conversations as her name did.
"What do you want, Kim? Are you just going to ogle your tits in front of me? Because let's be real, I wouldn't fuck you in a million years." She just chuckled at the statement and gave your crotch a light tap using her wrist.
"Trust me, I wouldn't fuck you in a million years too. But there is something I need." That was when you just smiled at her and closed your locker before walking away from her.
Chaewon panicked and followed your pace, keeping up by your side. "H-hey, I just said I need your help!" You waved her off before she grabbed your wrist and sped up to drag you away from the halls and into an empty area away from the students.
"Listen, I know we've had our differences but this is about prom." At this point was already looking at you like she made up her mind and she will do everything to convince you.
You sighed. "Let me guess, you want me to go with you to the prom?"
"Yes."
"I don't think we should, Chaewon."
"But we could win prom king and queen."
"Does that even matter?"
"If it means beating Yunjin and her very clingy boyfriend, yes."
You just stared into her eyes after that quick exchange, but you knew how insufferable the school couple was. They were everywhere, being flirty and just rubbing it in people's noses. It was a sight.
Pacing around the room and opening a window, it was easy to see that this was an opportunity to get your name trending again. But was it worth it when Chaewon's name is going to be beside yours?
"Okay, but I will dictate the ground rules. You will wear a black dress, you will do the talking, telling people that we got together recently and that you were the first to fall for me." Chaewon just looked at you angrily while the demands were being listed.
"Ugh, fine. I'll pay that price just to stick it to her. Just see how she likes it." She may hate you, but she really doesn't like being upstaged, and unfortunately for Yunjin, she got in the way.
A quick thought entered your mind. "Oh and one more thing," Chaewon turned around. "... You're not allowed to fall in love with me."
She just smiled, "Won't be a problem, I'll see you at my place then. Don't forget to bring flowers. Ciao~" She said as she left the vicinity. You were left standing there with nothing but your bag in hand, and shortly afterwards you went home.
_____________________________________________
The drive to Chaewon's was fast, thanks to the traffic not holding people up. Her apartment was still 3 floors up, so you had to climb up the flgiht of stairs to reach her door and give her a knock.
"God why did I listen to her..." You whisper to yourself while holding a bouquet of flowers in your hand as your cheeks fill with a red blush.
Chaewon opened the door and gave you a judging smirk. "For once, you finally listen to me huh?"
Embarrassed, you just looked away and handed her the flowers, which she gladly took and had a whiff of them. "They're pretty, okay? Don't be too shy, you're acting like this is real." She giggled as she went down the stairs waiting for you.
You opened the door for her, and she went inside without a word. You breathed out a sigh of relief and went back inside the driver's seat and started driving.
It was mostly a silent trip, neither even giving each other exchanging hi's and just humming to the song playing on the radio. It was nerve-wracking for you, as she can just say anything crazy in a second.
But then you heard a sweet and soft voice speak, it was soothing to the ear and yet you know Chaewon is never this soft and sweet. "So, this is it. Time to act flirty, you'll take care of me right?" You just nodded at her, "Just behave like a good girl and we'll win your petty prize." Getting out of the car and you open the door and take her hand before guiding her inside the venue.
The vibe around the prom was magnificent. It was themed as a romantic getaway, with beach designs and a drawing of a sunset as the backdrop for the stage. You can only look around as the people start filling in the place and you stare at Chaewon.
You weren't kidding yourself, she was looking spectacular. She left the flowers in the car but even with just one flower tucked on her ear, just looking at her makes your heart skip a beat.
You found some seats for you and Chaewon to sit in, it was in plain sight so everyone could see that the two of you are in this prom together. You put your arm around Chaewon and she gladly put her hands on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your crotch.
"Dangerous game you're playing here. Be careful not to touch anything." You gulp as you say those words.
You only heard a small chuckle as she whispered, "Try not to get hard okay? We don't want you going in the bathroom leaving me out here don't we?" She sure has her way of being very provocative.
Yunjin and her boyfriend finally showed up, dressed perfectly to compliment each other's styles. Everyone was astounded at their sight, looking like the royal couple, everyone was reminded of who they really are.
The grunt Chaewon releases between her lips was pretty cute, she was angry, but most of all she was very petty. "Okay, time to turn up the heat." Those were the last words you heard before you felt her lips crash into yours.
Her kiss felt like floating in space freely. It felt freeing and wonderful. Next thing you know, you were making out with your rival and the event hasn't even begun. You could get lost in this feeling forever, and you wanted to stay in this moment. Somehow, someway, Kim Chaewon is a perfect match for you. The way she holds you, the way she wraps her hands around you, it is truly something worthwhile.
These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud music entering your ears once you realize she let go. "...What the fuck was that for?" was all you can conjure up for your first, and possible the best kiss of your life.
"Gotta show them who's boss. And right now, we have the mental advantage. Everyone's looking at us right now." You did look around to see them whispering and muttering to each other about what they saw, even Yunjin was perplexed when she took her seat nearby.
"If this doesn't end in sex, i'm dropping you off the side of the highway." You claimed jokingly.
"Ha! As if you'd actually want to fuck me."
"With a kiss like that, now I know why all the boys want you."
"Is that a fact?"
"Oh shut up, i'm giving you a genuine compliment." Chaewon smiles after hearing that and gives you another kiss. This time, it's even more passionate. Your pants were starting to tighten and it got really, really heated. You knew you had to get some food to calm yourself down before your primal instincts take over and bend her down the table and fuck her brains out.
Once you broke the kiss, you asked her. "Do you want me to get you a plate or no?"
"Okay, boyfriend. Go get me a plate." She hit your balls again as you stood up and you lightly kicked at her feet before walking towards the catering.
Right now, you didn't give a shit about the deal you made. It doesn't matter whether you win prom king and queen, because pretending to be her partner was already a thin line to walk on, but now that she's being very playful and teasing you to great extent, you might not last the night.
You got her the plate, and you sat back down next to her. Before she could even mutter a word you just dug into the food. Thankfully she didn't say anything and just ate.
Thank god no one bothered you two, just having people pass by and smile or even give a simple wave is enough. Chaewon was a tiger in academics but socially, she is so much worse. There's a reason she doesn't have a clique, or even a best friend. She just preferred studying and going at it alone. Even with projects, you saw firsthand how she asked the professors if she could do it alone. She was granted her wishes, and she's done better than all of them. You were no slouch of course but, you're not insane enough to do group work solo.
"Let's go dance. We need to be as cute as we can." She said as she put down her fork and wiped her lips with a tissue.
"Don't fucking tap my balls again, you stand up first." Chaewon nodded and stood up, waiting for you to join her.
Taking her hand, you guided her to the dance floor and thankfully, the music was set low. There were a few people on the floor including the royal couple but the spotlight was on you. Nobody thought the two best minds in the entire university would be on good terms, let alone dating.
Chaewon did her best to act as subby as possible, knowing that it was her best chance to win those votes. She smiled, giggled at your jokes and even started talking to the other students on the dance floor while you roamed her around in the dance. If this was the Chaewon you saw in school everyday, you might've just fallen for her instantly.
"Hey, look at me for a while would you?" You said as you grabbed her chin and made her face you.
"What do you want? I'm trying to win us some favor here..." She said in a quiet but rage-filled voice.
"Is it so bad for a couple to actually look at each other and talk? Come on, you know better than that."
Chaewon just nodded and looked at you. Your heart melted through every wall you ever put up once she did. How in the hell are you falling for Chaewon? You know how she is. You know every dirty tactic and every move she's done to you. You hated how she tapped your balls everytime she found an opening. You hated the way she liked other boys. You hated it when you found out she was absent for a week due to a fever. You hated missing her. You hated falling for her at every step of the way.
Chaewon yelped when you firmly grabbed her waist, pulled her close and straightened her hair out behind her ear. "If you're gonna kiss me, I'd do it that way too."
You ignored her words and just kissed her. You didn't care if everyone was watching, you didn't care if anyone actually wanted to see it. All you wanted to do was kiss your rival. The rival you desperately tried to hate because you knew she'd never love you. The rival you never asked out because she was too busy studying her tits out. The rival you only ever loved.
As you let the kiss go, Chaewon stared at you for a moment. She immediately let that go and went back to being the same Chaewon you know. For that night, she belonged to you. And you took full advantage of that fact. You ate, you danced, you loved. It was all you could think about for the rest of the night.
It was over soon enough, and you remembered why you were there in the first place. You breathed in heavily and made Chaewon put her arm around your waist as you waited for the announcements. You didn't even listen to the announcement, all you did was feel her touches and let her hear the names she wanted to being called. Next thing you know, you were up there with her, taking a ribbon and a crown. It was pretty funny looking, but seeing Chaewon's face light up is a pretty good sight. You smiled at the crowd and thanked them for the vote.
This was when Chaewon broke free. She let you go and went to the car so she could celebrate her victory. You followed suit and went back in your car.
"Well, i've had my fill of achievements for the day. Take me home." You just nodded and drove. It was a pretty slow night drive. You didn't go over 40, mostly because you just wanted to enjoy her company more.
"That's all you wanted? Seems pretty shallow to go through all that trouble." You said.
"Then I'm shallow. All I care about is that I am on top again." Spoken as softly as she could.
"You do realize we're gonna have to break up during the summer right? I can't fake date you forever."
"Then let's break up."
"Fine."
"Fine." She just crossed her arms and sat on the passenger's seat and stayed quiet.
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You parked your car in the back, you wanted to clear your head space once you drop her off back at her door but you just stayed in the car first, and so did she.
The crickets chirping made the deafening sound of night feel, not so deafening. You took time to process everything that happened in there, and you looked at Chaewon, who seems to be doing the same thing.
"Hey, can I see your cock?"
"What the fuck, Chaewon?"
"Don't be a fucking pussy about it."
"I'm not in the mood."
"Why not?"
"Because... because I'm not sure if I like you or not."
"What?" Her eyes grew wider as you dropped those words.
"Just... let me think, okay? You were out here all night flirting with me like... it felt real chaewon. It felt real, all of it."
"You don't have to think about it..."
"Oh so now you're trying to restrict my thoughts of you? Don't play games with me Chaewon."
"I'm not!"
"Then why—"
"Just listen to me! You boar-headed dipshit! I like you too! Okay?! Is that enough?!"
You two just looked at each other with your eyebrows furrowed and neither of you were able to land a word after she confessed her feelings to you.
"I like you too. I didn't want to, but I like you! Get that through your thick fucking skull." She said angrily.
It was a lot to process. You both broke the rule of not falling for the other. And now you are at each other's throats because you both were confused and angry that the person both of you were trying to beat at every turn, was someone you actually were into.
If academics didn't mean a thing, you two would probably have hit it off at some point. But unfortunately, that pressure got to you both. For the first time, the weight of that pressure was actually lifted and you could only breathe out a strong, relieving sigh.
"Damn your kisses, Chaewon." You joked.
"Oh boo-hoo." She went for you and kissed you again. This time climbing out of her chair and sitting on your lap. This time, the kiss was different. It was more carnal than romantic. There was more tongue involved as you swing yours with hers and intertwined then as the shared kiss continued.
You grabbed her waist, and slowly reached out those hands into her ass. She gave out a lot moan and adjusted her position so you have full access to her plump, round ass.
She leaned her kisses towards your cheek and towards your ear, where you can hear every small moan and whimper she lets out of her mouth.
The hands you had around her ass were fondling them and enjoying the soft cushions they gave you. Chaewon was already getting wet, but you have yet to know that. You didn't want to go over what she considers her boundaries so you didn't move a muscle.
She felt your cock under her getting bigger and she just looked into your eyes. "Hey... we should take this inside."
You nodded and opened the door so she can climb out. You followed her and locked your car before heading up those dreaded stairs to her door. Once the two of you get there, she immediately opened it with her keys and dragged you inside by your collar.
It only took a shut of the door for her to throw herself at you with another kiss, jumping into your arms so your hands can carry her thighs as she wrapped her legs around you.
"Fuck..." you could only mutter as she rained down heavy kisses on your lips, your ears, and even your neck. It seemed like she knew what she was doing, and for your virgin ass, you went along for the ride.
"Take me to my bed. And take that goddamn suit off already."
"Yes, baby." You dragged your feet through the room and plopped her down the bed. You untied your necktie and threw it across the room. She kneeled on the bed as you stood over her, and she grabbed your polo and unbuttoned each and every single one while giving you the hungriest look a horny woman can give.
It was obvious she was having fun playing this game, and it felt like hell for you. Your cock was twitching in your pants and it started to hurt. She noticed you wincing and took off the polo before unbuckling the belt in your pants.
Her head was dangerously close to your cock and your hand moved itself to brush her hair and hold it down to your crotch, which was her eye-level. She pulled it all down and your cock sprung to hit her nose.
"Ow..." she said as she grabbed the hard cock in her hands, smiling.
"Your hands are pretty nice..."
"It fits your cock really well." She giggled and hummed as she dragged her hand down the length of your cock as you moan out quietly. She knew not to put too much pressure and she knew the perfect way to touch your cock and give you the pleasure your body is used to.
All you could do was grab her hair and turn it into a makeshift ponytail, where she smirked. "You know what it means when a guy does that to a girl right?"
"I think so. Do I get a guess?"
"No. You just get to feel your consequences." Her lips enveloped itself around the head of your cock, and the heat from her mouth makes you hold on the ponytail tighter.
She looks up at you as she takes your cock in painfully slow, licking along the way. You were panicking as the pleasure was getting too much for you, and Chaewon was just getting started. You didn't want to be a 10-second wonder.
She kept working around your cock, drenching it in her spit and sucking it like it was her final project. She's making sure it felt perfect.
Your legs were shaking at this point, your cheeks turning red at the possibility of you not being able to control yourself and not cum in her mouth. These sensations got you to let her hair go and put your hand on the wall nearby so you won't fall down.
Chaewon dragged her mouth down to the last inch of your cock, and tightly pulled out giving your cock a light lick at the end before she sat up and looked at you. "You're gonna cum, aren't you?"
"I'm trying so hard not to." You decided to be honest with her.
She pulled your waist down so you're sitting beside her. She gave you a smile and said, "Cum inside my mouth. I really want to know how nerd tastes." She giggled as she went down on your cock again, not holding out anymore and giving you the most sloppy and disgustingly heavenly blowjob you've ever had.
Her tongue was circling around your length as she bobbed her head up and down. You couldn't even speak due to how good she was sucking your cock. All you could do was grip her sheets and moan out her name again and again.
Her lips kissed your underside, and her free hand gave your balls some love, fondling them. She took your cock inside again and deepthroated every inch you can give her.
She was blushing. She enjoyed sucking cock, especially if that cock belonged to someone she knew on a personal level from many years ago. Sure, it was all on hatred, but she knew you better than anyone, and that turned her on even more.
Your cock was twitching in her mouth, she knew you weren't gonna last longer, so she pumped and sucked and the same time, and that was all it took for you to explode.
"M-ngmhHgh! Chaewon...! mmgh! fuck!" That was the most coherent sentence you can come up with while your body was in ecstacy. Orgasming to the point not even you have reached before.
Her mouth stayed where it was, your cum filling her cheeks as she swallowed each strand of cum, one stroke after another.
When she was done, she sucked your cock to clean it, and wiped her lips off before laughing.
"Nerd doesn't really taste different from jock. But I gotta say, your cock was so much cleaner and doesn't smell as bad."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"Yeah, no one sucks cock better than me."
You sat up and put a hand around her thigh. "So, what's next?"
She smiled as she pushed you down, "You're the first guy to ask for what I want."
You turned your head to look at her and she was taking off her dress, and you were watching her show off her body to you.
You were blushing but the next thing you see was her towering over you, and you get a VIP look of her beautiful pussy. It was shaven, it was perfect, and you wanted a piece.
Your mouth opened and she smiled before lowering herself down to you and sitting down on your face. She grinded slowly as you moved your tongue to eat her pussy out.
Her taste was a new sensation to you. The first time you've ever ate pussy, and you're already getting addicted to her taste. She was sweating and that only added to the tang of her flavor, you dug your tongue deep in her folds.
Your tongue found her hole opening up and you slid it in. "Oh..! Good boy... that's a good boy..." Chaewon muttered while hissing and holding on to your hair.
You closed your eyes and moved you head to tongue fuck her, as she moaned loudly like she had no neighbors. She gripped her bedside and bounced on your tongue as she kept moaning.
"Yes... baby... oh fuck! come on..." She kept hissing and moaning under the sensation of your upper lip kissing her clit and tongue fucking her. You picked up the pace and held on her thighs, taking your tongue out of her hole and focusing on licking the clit fast and good.
"Oh it has been a while! Yes! Don't you dare fucking stop, don't stop, don't stop!" She kept screaming while grinding her pussy on your tongue on her clit. You put more pressure by pushing your tongue into her sensitive clit more and more as she gets brought to the brink of her orgasm.
"I'm gonna cum! Please, don't stop! I'll get off if I want you to stop, okay? Please just... ah! Keep going!" Chaewon says as she reaches her orgasm and grinds on you harder as her moans become more hoarse and heavy.
You kept licking her to destroy her senses and feel an seemingly un-ending orgasm for Chaewon. She got off you and laid down the bed before catching her breath.
"Where... how did you learn... to eat pussy like that?"
"I never did. I only know the clit is the most sensitive part so, I guessed."
"You're a natural then, god damn. Despite being a nerd, that knowledge came in handy. Try using that knowledge to beat me next year okay?"
"What if I beg you to lose for once?"
"That's a price you don't wanna know." She smirked as she recovers.
"More pussy eating?"
"I have a list of demands. I'd rather show them to you before we start school next year."
"Good. But we're not done here Chae." You show her your hardened cock once again, showing her you have recovered from her blowjob.
Chaewon smirks and lifts her ass a little bit. "I want it deep, hard, and fast. None of that slow, methodical, romantic bullshit."
"You got it." You lined yourself up behind her and didn't even hesitate to stroke your cock and slide it deep in her.
"Mmph! Good! Just like that." All Chaewon could do was moan on her pillow as you started picking up the pace and fucking her pussy like your life depended on it.
You grabbed her ass and spanked it, earning a yelp from the girl. She kept asking for more, so you put a strong hold on her hips and crashed your cock deep inside her wet pussy again and again and again.
The sound of your sex was echoing across the room, it was erotic and accompanied with her moans after every thrust, it was truly music to your ears.
"Yes! Your cock is so big inside me! I love every single inCh of it! Mmm!"
Slapping her ass, you kept your mouth open and joined her moaning. "Good god Chaewon, your pussy is so good! So wet and so fucking delicious." You gave her ass another slap.
"Ah! So it is! Fuck I wanna fuck you again and again. Please, make me cum again, make me yours and I won't ever be a bitch around you again!"
"Good girl, I like that." You pulled her arms back into you and grabbed her head so your face is buried in her neck while you fuck her from behind.
"F-Fuck! Rub my clit!" You follow her command and rub her clit in the same pace you're fucking her pussy.
Her moans get even louder and you had to use your hand to cover it up so her neighbors wouldn't get the wrong idea.
Her bed was rocking and it was making a lot of noise. Between the creaking, the moaning, the sloshing sounds the sex was making, it was very hard to hide the fact you were fucking her like a machine.
She kept begging for you to cum inside her and you keep telling her to wait. You were looking for your orgasm but she was ready to unload hers.
"I'm gonna fucking squirt all over! Please I want your cum! I'm gonna fucking... ah!" You pulled out as you felt gushes of water from under her. You held on to her neck as she gripped your arm tightly while she was squirting. Your arm reached down and rubbed her clit so it felt extra pleasureable to her.
"God! I made a mess..." She yelped before you took her body and lied it down on the dry part of the bed and kissed her hard.
You slid your cock back in and fucked her in missionary. Her legs were up in the air as she was moaning in your kiss. The thrusts your cock was giving to her kept sloshing as the rest of her squirt and the never ending wetness of her pussy was lubricating your cock to the point where it looked like cum.
She already came multiple times and she wasn't going to stop, until you did. "What is taking so long?! Mm! My pussy is destroyed here... you need to fill me up, please daddy."
That was the last straw. The final push you needed. Once you heard her say daddy, your senses kicked into overdrive and you fucked her like a machine one more time before unloading your second round of cum in her pussy.
This orgasm hit you like a truck, it felt good, but once it was finished you feel like you have been ran over by a truck. It was tiring and you were drained.
"I guess... daddy is the magic word then." Chaewon giggled as she wrapped her arms around you and pecked your lips.
"I'm sorry I didn't warn you. You must've been so surprised."
"No, actually. I knew you were tightening up when your cock pulsated aggresively. So I expected the creampie sooner."
"God damn it, you're not gonna get pregnant now are you?"
"I'll be okay. I wouldn't have let you fuck if I was in danger of getting pregnant anyway." She giggled again.
"Really? Even after the kissing we've done earlier?" You sound a bit perplexed at this point.
"I'm not an idiot. I'm smarter than you, remember? Don't feel superior just because I called you daddy once."
"I'm just curious, no need to gloat."
She kissed your cheek and chuckled. "I'm okay, you don't need to worry."
You nodded and pulled out her before lying down beside. "So, what now?"
"What about it?" She looked upwards at the ceiling.
"What are we?"
"Right now? I can't say."
"We just told each other we liked each other. What else is there to think about?"
Chaewon playfully hits your arm. "You need to court me, genius."
"Wouldn't you just say yes immediately?"
"I probably would."
You held her hand and kissed it. "So, will you be my girlfriend?"
Chaewon smiles, and turns towards you. "Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."
~FIN~
A/N: That was rough for a first fic, I didn't proof read this so I'm open to suggestions and whatnot. Twitter is the same handle as this one, you know where to find me.
#kim chaewon smut#izone smut#le sserafim smut#chaewon smut#enemies to lovers#fake dating#oneshot#academic rivals#smut#chaewon x reader#chaewon x male reader
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Imagine no outbreak Joel seeing you doing a million steps nightly skin care routine and just laying under the covers and waiting for you to be done and come to bed already and slowly getting frustrated
Maybe a little toddler cuddling in bed with him and Joel fake complaining to them about you
“Mommy is taking a long time huh?”
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
a/n: this request is so so so cute, anon you're a genius
he was being a drama queen,
as always.
You'd been in the bathroom a total of five minutes and already he was groaning and calling out to you as if you'd been in there an hour.
"I've just finished washing my face baby, I'm not even half way done" you laughed, patting your skin with a towel
Another groan sounded from the bedroom and you just smiled, as you reached for the fist of the many products that were gonna go on your face.
This was part of your routine now.
Him moaning and complaining because you were taking too long and wanting nothing more than to just have you there in bed with him into his arms, while you laughed in front of the mirror at how much of an unpatient man you had married.
"I don't even understand why you do that stuff" he sighed, loud enough for you to hear, turning again in frustration under the blanket "You're already gorgeous, darlin'"
You rolled your eyes, your mouth betraying you with a smile
The amount of times you'd heard him say that...
Doing your skincare, makeup, putting on lotion... all tasks that to him did nothing but lessen the amount of time you could be in his arms.
"nice try miller" you chuckled, peering out of the bathroom door to talk to him "but flattery ain't gonna work"
Just as his eyes narrowed, a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, a little goblin jumped on the bed, having sneaked in without either of you hearing.
Said Goblin, being Emma, your beautiful, smart, nosy daughter.
"daddy!" she giggled, jumping literally on top of him, earning a painful groan from Joel, before he smiled, feigning an attack on her by wrapping his arms around her and bringing her down to him.
"whatcha doing here peach?"
"'m not tired" she explained, hiding her face in his neck
"aw babygirl, you can stay with us for a while, but you have to sleep in your own bed ok?" he murmured, stroking her hair "You're a big girl now"
"mh-mh" she nodded
Your heart warmed as you watched the scene before you, but before you lost precious moments where Joel was too preoccupied with your daughter to realize you still hadn't finished, you went back to your skincare.
But of course, it was all in vain.
Not even a minute passed that you heard him murmur "Mommy's taking a long time huh?" to Emma, who gasped as she answered
"where is she?"
"she's in the bathroom, putting all sorts of stuff on her face"
"what stuff?" She frowned, confused
"stuff she doesn't need" he explained
You huffed a laugh as you popped your head out of the bathroom, still massaging some serum onto your cheeks "I'm almost done I swear"
"mommy!" Emma smiled wide as she saw you
"Hi pumpkin" You blew her a kiss in return
You watched as Joel murmured something in her ear, something you could very well hear
"tell mommy she doesn't need all that stuff, that she's already beautiful"
Emma didn't waste a second before complying
"You're pretty, mommy!"
You rolled your eyes at him, although the smile on your lips didn't fade one bit
"thank you baby" you stifled a chuckle "but you should explain to daddy that the reason I am so beautiful as he keeps saying, is because of this stuff"
"daddy!" Emma scolded him, turning back to him "You didn't tell me that! You should listen to mommy, she's smart"
He couldn't help but laugh at that,
God if she wasn't right
"You're right" he grinned "she is smart, and I should listen to her" he said "But you know what would be better? If while she was explaining all that smart stuff she's always saying, she was right here beside us, so we could cuddle with her, wouldn't it?"
Emma considered what he said for a moment before agreeing
"yes" she nodded "it would"
You sighed, exasperatedly, as you finally exited the bathroom, shutting the door behind you
"there, I'm done" you said, climbing into bed "happy now?"
They almost answered in unison, but while Emma yelled her "yes!" as she jumped between you two, Joel's "yes" was much calmer... only a hell of a lot more smug.
He brought you closer with his strong arms, sandwiching your daughter between you and him in a tight hug.
"You're the least patient person I've ever met Miller" you murmured, turning to him with a glare
"And you, sweetheart, are the most perfect one I've ever met."
You rolled your eyes, your mouth once again betraying you
"I better be" you bit down a smirk, watching him grin
"I love you" he murmured, ghosting your lips
"I love you too assh-" your eyes lowered to where your daughter held onto you, forcing you to censure yourself "I love you too" you said, before he kissed you softly, his hand drawing gentle circles on your waist,
You leaned away when quiet snores sounded through the room, and once you lowered your gaze, you found out why.
"just this time" Joel immediately suggested, giving you his best puppy eyes
"You said that last time too" you reminded him
The pout on him persisted, as he tried harder to convince you
"please?" he begged,
You let out another exasperated sigh, before inevitably, as always, agreeing
"fine" you breathed "but this is the last time"
He kissed you again, and when he let go... you swore your daughter had a smile matching his on her lips.
You would have bet a fortune that this was their plan all along.
#did i think this request was for pedro until i was halfway done? yes. yes i did#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#dad!joel miller#joel miller x f!reader#no outbreak!joel miller#joel miller fluff#joel miller smut#tlou#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfic#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo
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the look of love, the rush of blood
clarisse la rue x aphrodite's!daughter hcs
warnings: none, fluff.
---
• It wasn't exactly rare to see an Ares kid with an Aphrodite's kid getting along. Logically, it made sense that they would prefer eachother's company, with context of their parents are together.
• But what was rare, is to see Clarisse La Rue being soft with anyone at all.
• The two of you have a reserved kind of relationship. Everyone knows you two belonged with eachother, but you kept the details to yourself and almost never publicly show off your relationship.
•There are certain moments excluded of course. Many campers would say that they've seen you out with her, holding hands and all. Or during social gatherings like parties and feasts where anyone attending would find you attached to her hip at all times throughout the whole night.
• But intimacy and gentleness was often kept aside for times in private.
• While other people are gathered for dinner in big tables around eachother, youband clarisse would either use the currently empty cabin 10 to enjoy eachother’s company. It was a sight to behold, her sitting with her back to your front as you braid er hair.
• Or if you're both feeling lazy, she's laying on your lap as you tell her about your day, indulging her in the latest gossips and tales that passes through aphrodite's cabin.
• She could listen to you talk forever, and she also feels that you're the only person she could talk out of her ass to. You're always on her side no matter what, but you're also not afraid to counsel her on her actions, keeping her grounded.
• If the cabin has people over, then you'd would find solitude in between the trees, a bit further from the cabins. With a picnic mat set up, you'll enjoy the food that Clarisse have grabbed from her cabin earlier that's enough for the both of you, under the glow of the moonlight.
• Her love language is acts of service and quality time. yours is gift giving and words of affirmations.
• She has a box filled with love letters you wrote her, and also some trinkets and gifts you found that reminded you of her.
• Clarisse is the queen on remembering anniversaries.
• It's easy to think that it should be the opposite, but you're not really good with dates.
• Meanwhile with her, there's always an occasion that deserves celebrating.
• There's a monthly anniversary for when you first started dating, and then there's a yearly anniversary for that.
• There's a first kiss anniversary, first dance anniversary, first date anniversary.
• The two of you understand eachother in ways others can't.
• She's grateful for how you can understand her rage and need to impress her father and be the best at everything, and she understand the way you view your worth on what you're able to give others because of how misunderstood aphrodite and her children are with all the internalised misogyny that comes with it.
• For your birthday she got you a rose quartz necklace in the shape of a heart.
• You got her a matching golden bracelet for hers.
• After a lot of pleading, Clarisse finally agreed to teach you how to fight and the two of you spar a lot.
• Though you don't really notice that she lets you win and go easy every time.
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#pjo#pjo x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#dior goodjohn#cabin 10
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here is a fun little star wars scenario that has been pinging around inside my head like a screensaver:
so let’s say there’s some very zealous, very low-ranking fresh young Imperial officer on duty the day they take the Senator from Alderaan into custody.
and he is very very nervous because a) he’s been here for like a week and b) none of that week required him to be in a room with Darth Vader. which he now is. so he is trying to focus very very hard on Doing Everything Exactly According To Protocol, as a means of not focusing on the seven-foot evil wizard standing fifteen feet away.
and part of the protocol for processing new prisoners is to make a new file for them in the prisoner database, and enter all their biographical details and vital statistics and a gene sample and their known associates and the nature of their terrible crimes against the Empire and so on. which he does! very meticulously!
except the computer keeps throwing an error message. the stupid thing keeps beeping at him, this awful grating little noise that makes his shoulders ratchet up tighter and tighter every time it honks at him, and he can’t fix it and Darth Vader is right over there—
except oh god oh fuck the beeping noise must be annoying Darth Vader, too, because he’s coming over here and our poor junior officer is convinced he’s going to die before he even lives long enough to send his first paycheck home to his poor widowed mother —
he stammers out an apology. Vader just stares at him. he swears he’ll figure out the problem right away, sir, it’s probably a bug in the system, it’s just that for some silly reason it keeps saying this gene sample doesn’t match the one on file for the Senator so he can’t get her logged as a new prisoner just yet —
“Dismissed,” says Vader. the poor kid flees, gratefully.
Vader considers the matter. in fact, his underling was correct: the gene sample, which he saw taken through his very own helmet lenses, does not match the official record of Senator Leia Organa, heir to the throne of Alderaan. so: perhaps the sample on record was falsified. not impossible, but very, very difficult. and ordinarily a crime attempted by the lowly and desperate. he cannot see any need for it, in the daughter of a queen.
another possibility presents itself. Alderaan has no history of using royal doubles, as some worlds do. but Bail Organa has worked closely with royal houses where the practice is long-established. perhaps he was inspired. perhaps the girl they captured is not Leia Organa at all.
Vader runs the gene sample against the ship’s database. it is woefully incomplete, of course, containing only a fraction of the Empire’s billions of citizens: the ship’s own complement, a selection of known criminals and Rebels they might encounter, high-ranking officials whose identity must be confirmed should the Emperor require their presence. unlikely that this girl, whoever she is, would have a record here, or even a partial match—
the computer beeps at him. it’s a cheerful beep, this time, not the error message that stymied the junior officer. the computer reports that the gene sample is a partial match for Pooja Naberrie, the Senator from Naboo. they are, with eighty-nine percent probability, first cousins.
and Vader just. kind of stands there. for a minute.
when he goes to Leia’s cell, there’s no interrogation droid with him. he goes in. he shuts the door behind him. he stands there, silent, for frankly a worryingly long time, until Leia has run through her entire stockpile of “how dare you, I’m a member of the Senate on a humanitarian mission” and “whatever you want, you can’t possibly think I would be of any help” and “well, if you’re going to interrogate me, get on with it already” and “are you even listening to me?” and falls silent herself.
Vader has been listening to her. he has also been listening to the Force, which seems to think that she’s not lying. obviously the humanitarian mission part is bullshit, that goes without saying. but the “I’m Senator Leia Organa” parts and the “I won’t help you” parts? yeah. he searched his feelings. he knows them to be true. the Force is singing in his head, bright and clear, in a way it hasn’t for nearly twenty years.
there’s still Tarkin to deal with, though. Vader turns and leaves the cell without a word.
Tarkin wants to blow up Alderaan. this is unacceptable, obviously, and Vader forbids it on the grounds that the Queen and the Viceroy possess vital intelligence, not disclosed to their daughter, that must be acquired. said intelligence being, not that he’s saying this out loud, how the fuck Bail got his hands on his daughter, and who else knows about it.
“the fate of the galaxy rests on it,” is what he does say out loud. from the way the Force harmonizes with his words, that might even be true.
so the Death Star just. parks there. in an incredibly threatening orbit around the planet. they issue a demand that the Organas surrender themselves, or else, but apparently the happy couple just left for a low-tech weekend retreat in the mountains, what awful timing, they’re sending someone to fetch them right away. Vader shuts himself up in his quarters, to seethe and watch the surveillance feed from Leia’s cell. he’s not really paying attention to much else.
and it’s not like a random freighter getting tractored in for being an incredibly obvious smuggling vessel is the kind of thing you’d alert Darth Vader over, anyway.
so he’s still sitting there, one great big thought filling up his whole entire head, watching Leia take a frustration nap, when her cell door opens.
and a trooper comes in.
and the trooper takes off his helmet.
and he says, “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”
(continued here)
#i have no idea what happens after that but it's definitely not the plot of star wars: a new hope#star wars#not fic
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• 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 •
Dark!Paul atreides x fem pregnant reader
Pt 4
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
It had been almost 2 months since Paul had took over as emperor. Life was great, people treated you like a queen. You lived in a huge temple, with more handmaidens than you can count.
More importantly though, you had Paul. You no longer had to worry about him, as he was the most powerful man in the empire. Paul had been more colder, but in all honesty you didn’t care, because he never was to you.
Last night you and Paul were sat in your shared bedroom, laying together in your bed. Paul was always doting on you, and ordered doctors to check on you every day. Last week a doctor had said you should stay in bed when possible, and that the baby was due anyday.
Your head was on his chest, his hands wrapped around you. You were so tired, your body was overwhelmed with pregnancy. 𝗔𝗻𝘆𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘄, you told yourself.
“Has the doctor been kind to you?” Paul questioned.
“He’s nice, he seems to know what he’s talking about” you say, your eyes closed.
“If he’s ever 𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗲 to you, tell me” he says placing his hand over your large bump.
You nod into his chest before dozing off to sleep for the second time that day. Paul laughed to himself, he loved seeing you like this. He was excited for his son to come into the world but, in all honesty he is gonna miss you being pregnant.
He was going to miss the sight of you full with his child, your reliance on him, your pouty lips and watery eyes when you didn’t get what you want.
He sighed kissing your head before slipping out of bed, to go back to work. He had been quite busy recently, due to only becoming emperor.
You awoke the next morning, looking to your side only to see no sight of Paul. Although you wished he was there it didn’t come as a surprise, he was so busy lately. You sat up slightly, only for your mouth to drop in shock.
You looked down to see wetness on the bed. Your water had broken.
You called your handmaidens who were in the next room. They immediately came to your side, one running off to find the doctor.
The doctor came and got you comfortable, telling you that you still had at least two hours before the baby would come.
You tried to stay calm as your contractions worsened, after an hour you started crying for Paul, the doctor said it was best to leave him at his work.
You didn’t listen and kept begging for him to be brought here. Finally one of you handmaidens agreed to tell him.
When Paul heard someone walk into his meeting room he was furious, 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘂𝗽𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗼𝗿, he thought.
“Get out” he said coldly.
“My lord, it’s the empress, the baby is coming” she said quickly and frighteningly.
Paul’s eyes widened in shock, as he quickly left a room, not a word to the men sat all around him.
Once arriving to your room, he noticed the door closed for your privacy.
“My lord, it’s best for you to wait out here, birth is not a nice sight” A guard said.
“Are you telling me the empress is not a beautiful sight?” He growled.
“N-No my lord I simply-“ he started
“Oh I see, you do think she’s beautiful. How dare you be around her, she’s not a sight anyone like you should see. I command you open these doors” Paul yelled full of rage.
The guard quickly yanked open the doors, scared for his life. He had never seen the emperor so angry before.
Paul walked into the room full of power, shoving past people in his way.
“Paul?” A gentle voice cried out
He looked to his right to see you lying on the bed with tears in your eyes. He quickly made his way beside you.
“I’m here my love, why are you crying?” He said kissing your hand
“I thought you wouldn’t come” you said in a sad voice.
“I’d never miss the birth of our son” he said in a stern voice.
“My lady, the time has come for you to start pushing” the doctor said.
You nodded and began to push, this went on for minutes, blood sweat and tears included in the process when suddenly a high pitched cry entered the room, making everything else quiet too.
You began to cry seeing your baby, Paul sitting beside you helping you sit up a little as your baby was handed to you.
“Oh, my baby” you cried leaning on Paul’s side. You kissed your sons head, rocking him gently.
“What shall we name him Paul?” You asked with a smile.
“I think Duncan would suit him just fine” Paul said, smiling down at his little family.
You nodded, sniffling as your tears stopped eventually.
A few hours later, you had been washed and taken care of, and your room was cleaned also.
The doctor gathered his things, before turning the the couple.
“The last thing to do is for you to breastfeed my lady, let me show yo-“ the doctor began.
“Her handmaidens may show her, leave” Paul yelled in anger.
The doctor nodded before speed walking out the door. You laughed slightly.
Paul joined you in your bed once more, kissing your sons head, and then pecking your lips, the two of you had never been happier.
Man’s there it was,
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
I hope you all enjoyed this four part story, I have a feeling I’m not done writing for Paul….
#paul atreides#paul atredies x reader#paul atreides x reader yandere#paul atreides x reader#chani#zendaya#timothee chalamet x reader#timothée chalamet#dune part two#dune 2024#smut#fanfiction#sci fi and fantasy
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WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME? — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which jack hughes should be afraid of what y/n can do to his reputation
notes: yeah, idk what this is either; there’s not much plot.
september 16th, 2023
deuxmoi
24,107 likes
deuxmoi pop sensation, y/n, is seen hands on with new boy toy?
if anyone has any information on who this man is, do come forward! we’d love to know who america’s queen of heartbreak anthems is with now!
view all 549 comments
user82 the hand placement?! HELLO?!
user3 oh great, new music where she makes herself some sad victim again
user55 a new love album next?! maybe?!
user09 let’s not get ahead of ourselves, it’s some low grade pap photos posted on a gossip blog. it could’ve been a first date for all we know
user45 @/user09 with the way they are in these pics? absolutely NOT a first date. y/n has famously said she doesn’t get “frisky” early on because of her ex. most definitely a bf
user92 oh her next song is gonna HIT
user06 that guy kinda looks…. where were these taken and when?
deuxmoi all the sender said was that they saw them in michigan last night! know something?
user06 hmm the tl matches! that looks like it could be @/jackhughes , a hockey player for the New Jersey Devils!
user98 OH MY GOD, YOU’RE RIGHT!
user67 those hands?! girlie better never let him go!
september 27th, 2023
y/nofficial
liked by sabrinacarpenter and 4,628,961 others
y/nofficial every dead end street led you straight to me 🤍
view all 7,923 comments
user72 SOFT LAUNCH OH MY GOD
user5 oh he’s got her using emojis?! she’s down BAD
user29 i’m so happy for her, she deserves so much love and happiness and it seems like he gives that to her 🫶
user6 MOTHER?!
user01 what poor boy did she sink her claws into this time?
user9 if you don’t like her, why are you on her post? obsessed much?
sabrinacarpenter he scored 😉
y/nofficial sab!! nah, i think i did!
user92 he better be treating her damn good! it’s what she deserves after ‘he who shall not be named’!
user76 i know who you meant but also started giggling at the idea of her writing an album about voldemort 😭
y/nofficial @/user76 gasp! don’t you know who lover is about?! the dark lord and i just couldn’t make it work :(
october 10th, 2023
jackhughes
liked by y/nofficial, nicohischier, and 815,736 others
jackhughes as a wise woman once said: “i was enchanted to meet you”
tagged y/nofficial
view all 2,865 comments
y/nofficial my sweet boy 🤍
jackhughes my pretty girl
user76 A HARD LAUNCH
user94 THEY’RE SO SICKENINGLY CUTE 😭 SHE DESERVES THIS
user36 JACK IS DATING Y/N?! OH THE SONGS THAT WILL COME OUT OF THIS
user8 he could do so much better
lhughes_06 about damn time
trevorzegras JACK WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE JOKING
user02 oh they’re so cute 🥹
dawson1417 did you just… hard launch with the biggest singer in america rn?
jackhughes y/n says “what? like it’s hard?” idk what that means
user16 can we talk about how happy she looks?! and i know her hockey loving self is giggling and kicking her feet over her landing a hockey player! too cute!!
john.marino97 if her next RED-like album is about you, i’m requesting a trade. can’t believe i’m gonna have to listen to songs about YOU
january 1st, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by jackhughes and 5,827,025 others
y/nofficial thank you 2023, you brought so much love and laughter 🤍 can’t wait to see what 2024 brings!
tagged jackhughes
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user86 oh she’s so down bad she was taking pics of him at his game 😭
user9 one tour pic and three pics regarding to jack? she’s so in love
jackhughes here’s to another year with you, my talented girl
y/nofficial i can’t wait for another year with you, my love 🤍
user55 i can’t wait to see you in KC this year!!
user7 she’s truly living her best life and i’m obsessed!!
user21 i hope 2024 is just as good to you as 2023 was!
january 26th, 2024
deuxmoi
36,592 likes
deuxmoi fan submission: trouble in paradise?
pop sensation, y/n, and her boyfriend, hockey player Jack Hughes, were seen out by a fan last night. the fan claims that they overheard y/n consoling Jack about his recent injury that has left him unable to play. in the video (on our site), you can hear y/n telling Jack “i know not playing is hard, i know it’s sad-”. Jack is heard cutting her off and snapping “you don’t get to tell me about sad. you don’t get it, so stop acting like you do.”according to the fan, y/n left the date alone and in tears.
what do you guys think, is this couple over?
view all 1,251 comments
user29 wow what an asshole, she was just trying to be comforting
user4 wtf?
user07 yeah, can’t say i didn’t expect them to end soon enough
user99 she was trying to comfort him and he snapped at her? yeah, i’d hope they’re over
user20 she deserves better
user19 it’s just an argument, everyone is being so overdramatic
user3 do i think they’re over? no. if we know anything about y/n, it’s that she’s forgiving, sometimes to a fault.
user67 i don’t think they’re broken up but if she was leaving alone and crying, i hope they will be soon enough
user82 has anyone thought that maybe he didn’t need comforting?
user13 umm, obviously he did if he snapped at her
user98 idk about everyone else, but i do think they’re broken up if she left alone and was visibly upset
user23 oh i can’t wait to hear what she writes about him. i’ve known he seemed too good to be true
february 14th, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by oliviarodrigo and 7,431,846 others
y/nofficial happy valentines to my favorite boy 🤍
the most kind-hearted, respectful, and loving man i’ve ever had the pleasure of being able to call mine. nobody is perfect, but i think you’re pretty close to it. i’m so eternally grateful to have you in my life 🤍
tagged jackhughes
view all 278 comments
user6 oh, she’s still with him
user02 y/n, baby, please come to your senses
user14 i don’t like him at all after last month
jackhughes happy valentines, beautiful girl ❤️
user65 “nobody is perfect” oh, mother is telling us rn
comments on this post are now limited
march 23rd, 2024
deuxmoi
29,783 likes
deuxmoi looks like y/n and her hockey beau have called it quits! eagle eyed fans spotted last night that they’ve unfollowed each other on instagram and y/n deleted all photos of him.
previously, y/n ONLY followed jack, now she’s back down to 0, which fans seem to read as a finality to their relationship.
view all 1,736 comments
user95 about time! after that spat in january, i feel like everyone was waiting for this
user72 EVERYONE MOVE! EVERYONE REJOICE! MOTHER IS FREE!
user24 GOOD RIDDANCE!!
user61 can’t wait to hear who the catalyst was, him or her?
user3 obviously she’ll make herself out to be the victim
user61 @/user3 tell me you’ve never actually listened to y/n without telling me you’ve never actually listened to y/n 🙄 she doesn’t shy away from admitting if she was the one who ruined a relationship, she admits she has problems and that sometimes she gets in her own head
user8 it was obviously him after that video in january
user23 everyone is celebrating but have we stopped for a second to realize that she’s probably really heart broken right now?
user70 fr! like, she seemed so in love with him and i feel so bad for her. she seemed to love him a lot more than her exes and we all know she’s a hopeless romantic at heart, so she was probably imagining marriage and babies with him and then he showed his true colors
april 1st, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by tatemcrae and 14,698,276 others
y/nofficial there’s always a fool, but i guess all’s fair in love and poetry… new album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. out May 14 🩶
but surprise! the first and only single, Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? comes out April 19 🩶
view all 3,279 comments
user18 MOTHER DOES NOT PLAY!!! AHHH
user63 may 14th 💀 she said “i’m not fucking around, y’all WILL know who this is about.”
user9 significance of may 14th?
user63 @/user9 it’s jack’s birthday 💀
user00 OH SHE MUST REALLY HAVE SOME SHIT TO SAY IF SHE’S ACTUALLY DROPPING A SINGLE BEFORE THE ALBUM
user78 i wonder if jack feels stupid yet
user12 new y/n album before GTA6
user93 the vibes??? mother didn’t write an album, she wrote a EULOGY
april 19th, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by john.marino97 and 9,726,820 others
y/nofficial at this hearing, i stand before my fellow members of The Tortured Poets Department with a summary of my findings.
Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? out now.
view all 2,738 comments
user72 i’m speechless
user2 “you don’t get to tell me about sad” SHE REALLY FUCKING DID THAT
user33 I AM IN SHOCK!
user94 MOTHER CALLED HIM OUT
user78 once again i ask, @/jackhughes do you feel stupid yet?
user61 dude just got surgery and she still came for his neck 😭
user09 i mean, not like she was gonna change the release date just because of that but it’s still so 😭
user22 “the scandal was contained….. at all costs keep your good name” she really spoke on the january spat, didn’t she?
user12 “WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?”
user77 @/jackhughes you should be
john.marino97 🩶🩶
user82 oh he’s MESSY! i love it 💀
user50 tbh, i look at this single like a warning. it sounds like jack didn’t think it through before he broke her heart and didn’t think she would speak on him, but she’s warning him right now that he should be scared because she has a lot to say about him and their relationship
user31 she’s so— i love her
february 8th, 2025
y/nofficial posted on their story
february 10th, 2025
y/nofficial
liked by john.marino97 and 11,762,936 others
y/nofficial brand new, full throttle <3
view all 3,627 comments
user93 i- did she just inadvertently tell us we’ve all been wrong about who So High School is about?
user77 this is the fastest she’s ever gotten into a new relationship and you know that means she has to be in LOVE
user04 AHHHHH Y/N AND JOHN MARINO
user82 how do you know it’s him? she didn’t even tag anyone and you can’t see his face
user04 @/user82 she posted john on her story a couple days ago! they’re on vacation together while he’s on bye-week!
user23 i don’t wanna get ahead of myself but,,, they met through jack, did they not? and now they’re dating? mother is messy
user51 is it messy? yeah, maybe- but people have already looked back through old interviews of his, and she’s been his celeb crush for a WHILE now. and i mean, hey, she’s dating someone only a couple years older than her now, one can only assume he’s more mature than j*ck
user92 the way she clings onto him 🥹
user88 she deserves happiness, i really hope he gives that to her 🫶
john.marino97 i knew what i wanted and i got her ♥️
#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes fic#jack hughes blurb#nj devils#nhl insta edit#nhl imagine#nhl fic#faithlynn’s writings <3#faithlynn’s insta edits <3
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The Way to His Heart [13]
Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.8k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
A/N: Listen to 'Nobody else' by Ailee while reading this part to enhance the feels. It was on repeat for me as I wrote this story.
Part 12 | Fic Masterlist | Part 14
"Are you out of your goddamned mind? Among all the eligible women in the nation, you want the General Park Seonghwa's wife? Don't be absurd, Yeosang. They are devoted to one another and will be set to marry, as arranged by your father, His Majesty."
With a shake of her head, the Queen rubbed her temples, realising her fourth son was merely playing with her. She should have known better than to believe he would genuinely consider settling down.
"I'm serious, Mother. Don't you want me to marry?" The prince pressed, locking eyes with the elderly woman as she sighed, "Of course, I want you to marry, but not at the expense of upsetting the King's most trusted warrior. It's not feasible, my son."
As much as Her Majesty would love to entertain the idea of her son's sudden willingness to marry, she couldn't ignore the reality that going against her husband's decision was not possible. While she, as the Queen, held certain influence, especially in matters of marriage, the obstacle lay in your existing betrothal to General Park. Moreover, the deep love between you and the general was widely known.
There was no doubt that Seonghwa would raise hell if he found out about the prince's intentions of stealing his beloved from him. Even Yeosang would not be safe from his wrath by then, especially when the King was known to favour him more than his own son.
"But Mother—"
Not wanting to hear another word that could only exacerbate the conflict within her, she raised a hand to silence him, "Enough is enough, my son. None of this will happen. Besides, I am scheduled to meet the general and his wife for their wedding arrangements in a moment. I will not interfere with their marriage just because you—"
Before she could elaborate, the eunuch came stumbling in with wide eyes, "Your Majesty! The meeting with General Park and Lady Park has been cancelled; word has just gotten out that there is to be a war with Ruhon, and the general will be deployed in just a few days."
Caught off guard by the sudden revelation, Her Majesty was momentarily speechless, but she quickly composed herself and nodded, "Thank you, Eunuch Hwang. If that is all, you are dismissed."
The Queen couldn't ignore the sly grin on her son's face and shook her head, "This does not change anything, Yeosang. He may be going to war for some time, but his wife remains loyal to him."
"And if she doesn't?" He pressed on, a challenging brow raised.
She scoffed in disbelief at his words, "Do you even hear yourself? Must you pursue someone who is already unavailable?"
"Look, I understand your concerns about not wanting to upset Father, but if I can get Miss Jang to change her mind and choose me over the general, will I have your blessing then, Your Majesty?"
The mother of the nation found herself caught in conflicting emotions, torn between the desire for her son to finally settle down and the undeniable realisation that pursuing Lady Park was unequivocally wrong.
On one hand, the prospect of Yeosang embracing matrimony brought a flicker of hope to her heart. The elusive hope that her most rebellious son might, at last, find stability and commitment. The idea of him building a family, continuing the royal lineage, and securing the future of the Joseon dynasty appealed to her innate maternal instincts. This potential change in his life could be the remedy to the constant worry she harboured for him.
Yet, on the other hand, she grappled with the ethical dilemma of her son pursuing a woman who was already promised to another. The Queen, as the matriarch of the royal family, couldn't possibly condone or endorse actions that went against the principles of commitment and fidelity.
The conflicting emotions played out on her face as she considered the implications of her son's request. The desire for him to find happiness warred with the understanding that it should not come at the expense of another's commitment and love.
"Mother, were you listening? I said—"
With a heavy sigh, she fixed him with a stern gaze, "I heard you loud and clear, Yeosang. Go ahead and try all you want; I know nothing I say can stop you anyway. But don't be too disappointed when you realise she remains faithful to the one who saved her from a life of misery and has given her more love than anyone ever had. It's a losing game, and you know it, my son."
He grinned, "You know I love a challenge, Mother. She will be mine before you know it. Say all the righteous words you want; deep down, I know you want this as much as I do. That's alright, I'll be the bad guy, just as I always have been."
After smirking at his mother's apparent internal struggle, the prince left her chambers, feeling satisfied with the reaction he had provoked. He knew he had indirectly obtained her silent approval, allowing him to pursue you despite her vocal disapproval.
Pressing a palm against her forehead, the Queen muttered to herself, "Oh god, what have I done?" She was well aware that the King would not be pleased if he learned about the potential chaos that could unfold due to Yeosang's pursuit of the general's wife. The conflicting emotions within her only deepened, and she dreaded the consequences of the choices she had indirectly allowed him to make.
Meanwhile, at the general's estate, a sombre atmosphere prevailed as Jongho and Eunsook swiftly briefed all staff members about their master's imminent departure.
Although it wasn't the first time they experienced him leaving for war, it marked the first time with the new mistress around. The servants couldn't help but empathise with you, recognising that you had only recently joined the household, and now, your husband would be embarking on a lengthy absence, leaving you alone at home.
Contrary to their expectations, you appeared to be handling the news more gracefully than any of them had anticipated. The only difference in your demeanour would be the heightened display of affection. While the general typically initiated physical closeness, you became less reserved than usual. Perhaps you were cherishing every moment with him before his departure, given the uncertainty of his return.
During dinner that evening, your attention was solely devoted to looking after your husband. You carefully filled his bowl with all his favourite dishes. Whenever his long fringe obscured his vision, you instinctively reached out to delicately brush the strands away from his face, your fingers lightly tracing his cheek. The servants couldn't help but notice the unwavering gaze fixed upon him, already discerning a sense of longing in your eyes.
Eunsook had explicitly ordered that no one bothered the master and mistress after the meal, making sure that you could spend undisturbed time together. The maids were instructed to only appear when summoned.
As a result, you found yourself comfortably nestled in Seonghwa's arms within your pavilion, gazing out at the moonlit lotus pond before you, relishing in the tranquil atmosphere. Millions of thoughts coursed through both of your minds, yet neither of you spoke, preserving the serene mood.
You couldn't resist smiling in his embrace as he traced butterfly kisses from your forehead, along the side of your face, down to your neck. A small giggle escaped your lips at the ticklish sensation, and he grinned playfully. He kissed you on the ear before whispering, "Hey, Lady Park, do you want to know a secret?"
Looking up at him through squinted eyes, there was a hint of suspicion in your gaze, "What secret could you possibly be hiding from me, General Park?"
He chuckled as you played along, leaning in to murmur in your ear, "I haven't told you this before, but... I love you, my wife."
Your heart skipped a beat at hearing those three words from your husband for the first time. Seonghwa pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours and staring deeply into your eyes. Reaching up, you cupped his face with your small hands. Your heart fluttered when he kissed your palm before nestling his cheek against it again.
Braving the moment, you planted a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes widened in surprise, accustomed to being the initiator, but he quickly broke into a smile, closing his eyes and responding to your kiss.
In that moment, both of you cast aside thoughts of the impending war, choosing to concentrate solely on each other. His breath caught when you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him in closer. This act of boldness was new for you, but he welcomed it, tightening his hold around you.
As your lips finally parted for air, he enveloped you in a tight hug, his larger frame securely holding you. With a hand cradling the back of your head, he nuzzled his nose against your neck, committing the sensation of you in his arms to memory. It was a moment he wished could last forever.
You held him just as tightly, burying your face against his shoulder and savouring the warmth, not knowing when you would be held like this again once he leaves.
After a moment, he withdrew slightly to meet your gaze, "Wait, I just told you that I love you. Are you not going to say it back to me, Lady Park?"
With a mischievous shake of your head, you playfully stuck out your tongue, prompting him to burst into laughter. Softening your expression, you responded, "If you want to hear me say it back to you, General Park, then you'll have to come back to me safely."
He turned serious, nodding with a determined smile, "You know, I used to approach wars as if they were just games. Dying didn't matter, and I had nothing to lose. But for the first time, I'm afraid... because now I have something worth living for. It's you, my love. I promise you I will do everything in my power to return to you."
"Good afternoon, my lord." Physician Jung bowed respectfully upon entering the general's study after being summoned.
Seonghwa looked up, acknowledging the taller male's presence, "Ah yes, you're here, Yunho. Please take a seat." He gestured towards one of the two chairs positioned in front of his desk.
"Have you called me over to officially dismiss me? I'm aware Lady Park's treatment is almost done; perhaps you'd like to relieve me of my duty sooner." The doctor inquired as he sat, contemplating whether he should start packing up if that was the case.
Releasing a small sigh, your husband shook his head, "No, that's not why I called you—"
"Yah, Park Seonghwa. You better have a good reason for summoning me over so soon. Your wife's next batch of clothes is never going to be ready on time if you keep calling me over for every little thing..." Hongjoong blinked as he sauntered in, surprised to see the doctor also present and not missing the general's serious expression.
"Oh dear, I know that look. What is it?" The dressmaker winced, moving over to sit down beside Yunho.
Pressing his head into his hands, Seonghwa took a deep breath before addressing the matter, "I won't beat around the bush," Raising his head, he finally met his friends' gazes, "There is an imminent war with Ruhon, and I will be deployed to the war zone in just a few days."
Hongjoong and Yunho exchanged glances, shock etched on their faces. It had been a while since the last war, and the unexpected news hit them with a wave of concern. The government had done an excellent job of keeping such matters under wraps to prevent panic among the citizens.
After a moment of shared silence, the dressmaker leaned back in his chair, a troubled frown etched on his face, "A war? How did this come about? I thought we were in a period of relative stability."
The physician, equally perplexed, chimed in, "And so soon after your marriage. It's... unprecedented."
Your husband sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair, "I was just as blindsided by the news. His Majesty called me for an emergency meeting yesterday. It seems our diplomatic efforts with Ruhon have failed, and war is inevitable."
The atmosphere in the room shifted as Hongjoong's eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, that means your wedding ceremony..." He trailed off, feeling the weight of the situation sink in. His expression softened with genuine sympathy, and he spoke with a heavy heart, "Oh no... I'm so sorry, my friend."
Seonghwa nodded appreciatively at his friend's understanding, acknowledging the unspoken disappointment. Collecting himself from the initial shock, Yunho, always the practical one, voiced out, "Then you must have called us here for a good reason. What can we do for you, general?"
"Thank you, both of you. I summoned you not only to share the news but because I need your help. While I'm away, I want to ensure that my wife is well taken care of. Hongjoong, please continue overseeing her wardrobe and comforts. Also, work your magic and cheer her up for me when she's down. Yunho, unfortunately, I'm going to need you to stay here and ensure she receives the best medical attention. I understand this limits you from accepting other patients, but I promise we will compensate you for your dedication."
His friends readily agreed without hesitation. The dressmaker turned serious, "Don't worry, I'll visit more frequently to keep her company," The doctor nodded in agreement, "And I'll stay for as long as you need, my lord. Lady Park will receive the best care."
"I appreciate it, you two. I'll trust you to keep an eye on her while I'm away." Your husband said, feeling a bit relieved, knowing he could count on them to support you in his absence.
The next few days passed in a blur as you spent nearly every waking second with your husband. Daytimes were filled with endless conversations in his study, discussing anything and everything, while late evenings were cherished in your pavilion, holding each other close and sharing affectionate kisses.
Even if it wasn't a honeymoon, it felt like one.
The imminent war and Seonghwa's unavoidable departure were like an unspoken presence in the room, always lingering in your minds. However, neither of you dared to address it, choosing instead to talk about anything but the impending separation.
You started questioning whether it was the right choice not to express your love for him as well. What if he never returned? The thought of regret lingered, and you couldn't shake off the fear that he might not make it back alive. Despite his skills as a fighter, the harsh reality was that he was only human, and the uncertainties of the battlefield weighed heavily on your heart.
Spending another evening in your pavilion, you shifted slightly within his embrace and looked up at him. Your heart clenched at the sight of the worry etched on his face. Self-doubt crept in as you considered the selfishness of your actions. While he prepared to face the dangers of war, you would be waiting in the safety of your shared home. How could you deny him the reassurance of hearing your love in return after he had opened his heart to you?
Lifting your hand to gently cup his cheek, you prompted him to meet your gaze, "Seonghwa, there's something I need to tell you before you leave... I—"
Before you could finally utter those three words back to him, Jongho hurriedly approached, "Sir! Oh gosh, I apologise for the interruption!"
The general sighed and shook his head, straightening up as he turned to his assistant with a wry smile, "What is it?"
Bowing deeply, the younger man gulped before delivering the news, "Sir, the base at the war site has been set up. General Officer Song is already there and ready to begin strategising. You are expected to travel there at your soonest convenience."
Your heart sank at the realisation that the moment of departure had arrived. You felt your husband let out a shaky breath and tighten his hold around you as he inquired, "I understand. Are my belongings all packed and transportation prepared?"
With a grim expression, Jongho nodded, "Yes, sir. Everything is ready to go. All that's left is you."
"Guess it's time for me to go, my love."
The sound of your heart pounding in your ears drowned out any other noise as Seonghwa got suited up. You accompanied him, silently witnessing the transformation of the man you loved into the formidable general the nation needed. Every clink of his armour resonated with the weight of his duty, the heavy responsibility that he shouldered willingly.
The urgency was palpable. He was the linchpin of the military, and his immediate presence was required. It felt like a luxury that you had a few extra days to spend with him, but now, the inevitable farewell loomed, and the time had come for him to go.
Watching him clad in his armour, fear settled in the depths of your being. Your husband, the man you cherished, was about to embark on a perilous journey, risking his life to defend his country. The gravity of the situation sank in, and the ache in your heart intensified. You couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of dread, envisioning the horrors he might face on the battlefield.
Preparing for the farewell, you tried to muster the strength to bid him goodbye, but the lump in your throat made it difficult to find words. The separation weighed on you, and the air was thick with the unspoken anguish that enveloped both of you.
It was well past your usual bedtime when he was fully prepared to leave for the war zone. Standing at the entrance of the general's estate on a chilly night, you sent him off to work, a routine you had grown accustomed to. Only this time, the circumstances were vastly different. You had no idea when, or if, he would return. The concept of him leaving for war felt abstract until this very moment, seeing him before you in the dignified attire of a military commander.
You fought to hold back your tears as he drew closer, enveloping you in a cloak to shield you from the cold breeze, "It's cold out here, my love. You better head in soon to catch up on some rest. While I'm away, you must take care of yourself, alright? If you're bored, summon Hongjoong, and he'll keep you entertained. If you're feeling even the least bit unwell, Yunho will be around."
His heart clenched at the sight of your tears trickling down your cheeks, and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Leaving you was proving to be much harder than he had anticipated. Unable to resist, he wrapped his arms around you one last time, holding you close as he breathed in your scent, "God, I love you so much."
Jongho and Eunsook watched with pain in their eyes as you shared your final embrace. With no choice, one of the waiting coachmen reluctantly cleared his throat, "General, I hate to break you up, but we really must go."
Feeling him start to pull away, you panicked and clutched his arms, speaking through sobs, "W-wait, before you go... I just... I really want to th-thank you for everything you've done for me since my arrival. Thank you for accepting me, for s-seeing the beauty in me, for protecting m-me. I will f-forever be grateful, and I... Seonghwa, I lo—"
Your words were silenced by the familiar sensation of his lips firmly pressing against yours. The kiss carried the saltiness of your tears and perhaps a bit of his as well. Pulling away just enough for his lips to lightly brush against yours, he whispered, "No, don't say it. I want to hear it when I come home to you."
Smiling through your tears, you nodded.
Pleased, he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, murmuring a soft, "Good girl," before shifting his gaze to his assistant and head maid, signalling with a nod that it was now their responsibility to look after you. The two bowed deeply in acknowledgement.
With a heavy heart, he reluctantly stepped away, the anxious sounds of his soldiers' boots tapping against the ground filling the air, "I'm afraid I really must go. I'll see you again, my love."
Despite the ache in your chest, you managed to beam encouragingly at him, "Go, our country needs you. I'll be right here waiting for you." It took every ounce of strength for the general to turn away, fighting the urge to look back, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist running back to you.
As the carriage rolled away, disappearing from view, you did your best to hold back your tears until the very last moment. Once it was out of sight, you sank to the ground, the weight of reality crashing down on you. Jongho and Eunsook rushed to your side, supporting you as you struggled to stand. With their help, you made your way back into the estate, the silent sobs finally escaping as you clung to the memories of the last moments with your husband.
I love you too, Park Seonghwa.
« Preview of Part 14 »
"Come on, Lady Park, don't be too down. Your husband didn't earn the reputation of the most formidable general in all of Joseon for no reason, you know? I've witnessed him in action enough times to vouch for his skills. He'll be just fine."
A giggle escaped your lips at Hongjoong's attempt to lighten the mood. He guided you around town, aiming to distract you from your concerns about Seonghwa. Two maids followed behind, ready to assist you and the dressmaker with any purchases.
He led you to areas of the town you had not yet explored, stopping to shop for materials that would aid in his dressmaking. Your eyes widened in awe as you took in the various coloured fabrics neatly arranged in the shop you had just entered.
Curious, you asked, "What is this place?"
Hongjoong grinned, pleased to see your attention finally shifting away from thoughts of your husband, "This, my dearest, is a fabric factory. Feel free to look around, but don't wander too far. I'll be here placing my order, alright?"
With a nod, you ventured deeper into the expansive store, marvelling at the diverse array of fabrics on display. Unbeknownst to you, you had wandered to the back, where factory workers toiled under the harsh sunlight, dyeing the fabrics.
A few of them cast curious glances in your direction, and you stammered out an apology, "O-oh, my apologies for intruding!" Amidst the workers, a familiar face caught your eye, and you did a double take. You doubted your eyesight, and the person glared back at you with intense hatred.
Gasping, you recognised your stepsister, not missing the sight of her body littered with new scars, "J-Jinjoo? Is that you?"
Damn, I'll have to begin working on my thesis after releasing this part. The next one is most likely going to take slightly longer than usual, so I apologise in advance!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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