#a thoughtful present she can wear everyday

[angelfishe]

>> 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

>> prince scaramouche x reader ( manhwa AU )

You were suddenly reincarnated or transmigrated to one of your novels as one of the villainess of the story, using your knowledge of the novel and world you will find a way to escape your original fate and live

( scaramouche pov )

Art by @XIAOJIAJU Twitter

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Side story my other < fic >read it first if you want more understanding

<< seems you guys enjoy the fic about prince scaramouche so I decided to create a side story from his point of view, I will make a part 2 if you guys want >>

Kunikuzushi's life has never been easy in the first place, he is the prince as well as the first born of the shogunate which means he's gonna be the future heir soon of the throne.

He has tutors and lessons 24/7 non stop, he wishes to have fun on the outside world but he's unable, this castle is his prison and he wishes to be more free than rather be locked up in his room. His mother doesn't even acknowledge him even tho she cares for him she doesn't know how to express it as well of her being busy with duties.

And as expected being royalty he has to choose a bride soon, the line of exquisite as well beautiful noble ladies are lining up waiting for him to choose but not one caught his attention all of them are snobbish as well to clingy.

His mother has enough and set up another meeting with another noble lady and then he has to choose one.

Originally he was opposed to this idea, but he's unable to go against his mother's wishes.

When he finally met you, he originally thought that you were weird, you were open minded as well not very obedient unlike his other suitors a personality unfit of a noble.

Due to this personality, you were not very liked by the other nobles as well others saying he shouldn't marry this barbaric woman with no respect but he pays no attention.

Sometimes you and him would sneak out of tenshukaku, to hang out and go to inazuma city, you seem to be very popular since the locals very much knew you and he of course has to wear a disguise to avoid getting caught

When the day is over you and him would go to a cliff and admire the sunset, but little did you know he was admiring you, your hair, your face, your eyes everything about you is radiant as if the gods hand crafted you by themselves he immediately knew who he wants to spend the rest of his life as well the one who will rule the nation right next to him.

Recently he noticed that every time you visit him, you will be covered in bruises and he is always the one that bandages you up and sometimes kisses the injury.

One time he once heard that you were confronted his mother and bolted towards the throne room afraid that you would be punished and was about to open the door he heard you talking to his mother saying how he always wanted to have a normal relationship with him a mother and son relationship. He stops and listens to you talking about how he's the sweetest person and begs his mother to spend time with him I guess it reaches his mother because she started to spend time with him.

Everything started to glow when you were around, everything in his life that was wrong was fixed by you, you are his sun that shines upon the world of his.

He made a promise towards you of becoming the best husband and that nothing will do you apart from him the original vows were till death do us part but for him he will find you and love you in every universe and will find you at any cost.

Recently there's been a rebellion between the watatsumi island and he's been busy training as well helping strategizing with his mother and generals. So which means he Less you but it's fine because after this war ends he can marry and see you everyday as his queen and wife. He could already picture it until it was suddenly shattered

Until "that" day happened his mother was supposed to deliver a speech with him and you present in the back suddenly a group of watatsumi soldiers appeared and tried to ambush them, one of the soldiers threw a spear towards you and everything was slowing down in his vision... He watched as the spear pierced towards your beautiful kimono and blood poured from the wound and you fell down on the floor.

He stood there stunt and was about to approach your body until multiple guards tried to drag him from you, all sanity burst thru the window he struggled and fought against the guards that were trying to bring him to safety tears shout out from his eyes, your corpse getting further from his vision and release an agonizing scream calling your name until he was drag back to the palace.

When he was inside the castle walls, he released a large wave of electricity killing the guards that were holding him from you. He felt empty, for the next 2 months he locked himself inside your room and held your kimono non stop until his mother intervened and wanted him to snap out of it.

He felt empty, you were his light and now you were there was not even a body he wasn't unable to say goodbye one last time, was it painful when the spear pierced you, was it quick so you don't experience the pain and this question circled around his head he swore he would revenge you and punish whoever opposed of him.

First he will punish your clan for laying their filthy hands on you, they were soon punished by hanging. And when one of the elders of your clan begged him to spare them "I'm pretty much sure young master you have a heart" he replied with "no, it was taken from the moment when she died" and the execution was soon continued.

No one dares to oppose him not even his mother could stop the hatred from his heart, he trained non-stop and at night he would go to your room and hold your kimono and talk towards it as if it was you.

He punished anyone who opposed him even if it was a small mistake no one can escape his raft, he ruled with an iron fist.

Until one day a diplomat from Snezhnaya one of the harbingers of the tsaritsa appears to discuss some matters he was known as the "doctor or Ill dottore" he was rumored to be a necromancer having the ability to raise the dead this catch his eyes and approach the doctor.

He ask whenever or not that can bring back the dead and the doctor replied with yes but it comes with price he need to have the body of the disease person in order to bring back the dead unfortunately your body was taken by the watatsumi.

Soon the doctor started to teach him the arts of necromancy as well as dark magic but it comes with a price but don't worry you are worth more than anything even if he falls in the eyes of darkness.

Don't worry he will have you back soon, you and him will get married and live happily ever after he promised

[p0orbaby]

So Boyfriend

summary: alessia is the poster girl for chivalry

warnings: none!

a/n: the minimum expected behaviour in any relationship, if you ask me

word count: 1.6k

-

Alessia’s wearing that black Adidas tracksuit again, the one that should probably have its own spot in the wardrobe by now, considering how often it makes an appearance. You’re not sure what her deal is with that thing. It’s like she’s conducting some kind of long-term experiment to see how many days she can wear it before it becomes a sentient being. But, somehow, it always looks crisp, like it’s just been peeled out of the packaging.

She’s sitting at the kitchen table, legs spread wide like she’s declaring ownership of every square inch of space. The air around her practically vibrates with readiness, like she’s an overzealous butler trapped in the body of a world-class athlete.

You watch her, knowing exactly what’s coming next. She’s eyeing the cupboard, which is already funny because you’re not even hungry, but you know if you so much as glance at the counter, she’ll be up and rifling through shelves like a one-woman search-and-rescue operation. You could have sworn you saw her measuring the exact amount of peanut butter left in the jar last night, like a tactical mission was involved.

If there’s a minute, microscopic part of her brain that suspects you’re craving peanut butter on toast, she’ll know before you do.

And sure enough, Alessia is up before you can even think of saying, “I’ll get it,” moving towards the cupboard like she’s executing a flawless play. She grabs the jar and hands it to you like she’s presenting a hard-won trophy, her eyes bright with that stupid, beautiful grin. You stare at her, trying to remember why you ever thought her overbearing attentiveness was annoying.

You manage a “Thanks,” which comes out more as a croak because, well, what else can you say when you’re so completely outmatched in the whole ‘being a decent human’ department?

Then, like clockwork, she’s clearing the table. It’s your turn, obviously, but Alessia’s got this compulsive need to do things for you, like it’s a moral imperative. You know it’s coming—the way she’ll rinse the plates with one hand while gently nudging you out of the way with her hip, so casual and practiced, like it’s something she’s been doing her whole life. You’re just standing there, one hand holding the peanut butter jar, the other uselessly hovering in the air, like a mime who’s forgotten their routine. The sound of running water and clinking dishes fills the kitchen, and you’re left marveling at how domestic she makes everything feel, how easy it is for her to slip into this role without a second thought.

And here’s the thing: you should be annoyed. It’s your job to do the dishes tonight. You should be doing something about it, like grabbing a towel or, at the very least, half-heartedly protesting. But you’re not. You’re just… watching. You’ve seen this movie a hundred times, but it’s so ridiculous you can’t help but watch again. You’re transfixed by the way she stacks the dishes like they’re precious artifacts, not remnants of your poorly executed attempt at dinner.

When she’s done, she turns around and hands you your phone. It was on the counter, and you weren’t even thinking about it, but of course, she noticed. Of course, she knew exactly when you’d need it. It’s like she’s a mind reader, but only when it comes to the most mundane, everyday things. Like there’s some part of her brain solely dedicated to making sure your phone is fully charged, your favorite snacks are within reach, and that you never run out of clean socks.

You should say something, maybe tease her a little, but you don’t get the chance. Alessia’s already moving on to the next thing—turning off the lights, checking that the stove is off, securing the perimeter. You half expect her to pull out a checklist and start ticking off boxes. Instead, she turns to you, that lopsided grin still plastered on her face, and before you can even think, she’s pulling you in for a kiss.

It’s not just any kiss. It’s slow and soft, the kind that says, Hey, I’ve got all the time in the world, and I’m spending it right here, with you. You melt into it, feeling every ounce of tension you didn’t know you had drain away.

When she finally pulls back, she’s still smiling, and it’s the kind of smile that makes you feel like you’ve just won something. Like maybe you’ve won her, but that can’t be right because it feels more like she’s the one who’s been winning you over, inch by inch, every single day.

Then, because apparently, she hasn’t done enough for one evening, she suddenly suggests, “Let’s go for a walk.” It’s not a question, really. She’s already grabbing a hoodie, even though it’s the middle of summer and the night air is perfectly warm. She throws it over your shoulders, and you know you’re going to sweat through it, but you don’t care.

She makes sure to lock the door behind you, even though you’re only going for a quick loop around the block. Alessia does that—locks up, checks windows, and generally acts like you live in a crime-riddled part of town. Even though you both know the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in your neighborhood is when Mrs. Patterson’s cat got stuck in a tree. And even then, it was a small tree, and the cat was more annoyed than scared.

As you start walking, she naturally takes the side closest to the road, like she’s in some 19th-century novel, guarding your virtue against runaway horse carriages or something equally absurd. You used to roll your eyes at this, but now it just makes you smile, like maybe there’s a small part of you that enjoys being taken care of in this overly dramatic way.

The night is quiet, the kind of quiet that’s comforting rather than eerie. Alessia’s arm slips around your shoulders, her fingers tracing the back of your neck in a way that sends little shivers down your spine. You sigh, and it’s not a sigh of exasperation; it’s the kind of sigh that comes when you’re trying to pretend you’re annoyed but you’re really just a puddle of feelings because she’s doing that thing again—making you feel like you’re the center of the universe.

You keep walking, letting her guide you down familiar streets. She opens the gate for you, then the door to the local café, where the barista already knows your order, thanks to Alessia’s meticulous planning. You’re not sure how, but she’s managed to get everyone on board with this whole ‘make everything perfect for you’ campaign, and honestly, it’s a little terrifying.

You sit down at your usual table, and she insists on ordering for you, even though you’re perfectly capable of speaking for yourself. But there’s something about the way she does it, with that confident ease, like she’s been rehearsing this role her entire life, that makes you just let her.

She returns with your drink, carefully placing it in front of you, making sure it’s exactly the way you like it—extra foam, no sugar, just a hint of cinnamon. You didn’t even know you liked cinnamon until she started ordering it for you.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” you finally say, and she just shrugs, that lopsided grin never wavering.

“I just want you to be happy,” she replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it is, to her at least.

As you sip your drink, you watch her, watch the way she’s always so effortlessly present, always making sure you’re taken care of, and you realise that this is what it feels like to be loved so completely, so utterly, that it’s almost overwhelming.

It’s the little things she does, the way she’s always three steps ahead, always thinking about what you might need before you even know you need it. It’s the way she’s somehow managed to turn your entire life into a series of moments where you’re constantly cared for, constantly looked after, without ever making you feel smothered.

And maybe you’re starting to like it, more than you ever thought you would. Because being with Alessia is like being in a story where you’re always the main character, and she’s the one making sure the plot unfolds exactly the way it’s supposed to, with all the right twists and turns, and just enough drama to keep things interesting.

As you leave the café, Alessia’s arm finds its way around your shoulders again, guiding you back home, and you let her, because it’s just easier that way. It’s easier to let her do all the little things she does, the things that make you feel so loved and cared for, because deep down, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you finally get back, she unlocks the door, checks the windows again, and makes sure everything’s in its place. She pulls you in for another kiss, this one a little more urgent, like she’s trying to communicate something she can’t quite put into words. You kiss her back, letting her know you understand, that you get it, and that you’re not going anywhere.

You lie down together, her arm draped over you, and as you drift off to sleep, you realise that maybe this is what it’s all about. Maybe this is what it means to be truly, deeply loved—having someone who’s always there, always ready to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re okay, to make sure you’re happy. And maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to believe that you deserve it.

[bunny-1111]

Blow out your candles - Theo Nott x reader

Description: you hate your birthday, your boyfriend Theodore tries to make it the best day for you, but only makes it worse, until...

Word Count: 1.1k

Fluff/Angst

Likes, comments + reblogs appreciated my loves xx

...

"One more sleep" Theo jestered, throwing an arm around you in the busy hallways of the Hogwarts morning traffic.

"Don't remind me" you muttered, wanting to hide in his chest

"Wait till you see what I got you" he teased, a smirk growing as he watched you

"Hey! I told you nothing, not fair!" you whined

"I can't wait, you're gonna love it, and you're gonna love your birthday baby" a cheshire grin painting his face

"I can wait" you say rolling your eyes, before the conversation could continue he pecked a kiss on your lips, before running off to class.

Now stuck walking by yourself, alone with your thoughts, you were becoming overwhelmed, since you were a child you despised your birthday.

With your parents always away, you spent most of your milestones alone, from as young as four years old, it was your Grandmother that would keep you celebrated, taking the morning to gather and make flower crowns, then spend the rest of the day wearing them. When she died, so did your birthday as far as you were concerned.

As time passed, you grew in age and in contentment. You now preferred your birthday to just pass as any other would, that's how it was supposed to be this year as well, until Pansy opened her stupid mouth a month ago, reminding everyone you would be eighteen soon.

Theodore reminded you everyday since then, he was basically a human countdown for your least favourite day of the year.

Now less than twenty-four hours away, you couldn't bare the thought.

Now, the night before the dreaded day, you hoped, by some miracle, Theodore would fall, hit his head, and forget.

That did not happen, the sun blared into your eyes as your boyfriend ripped open your blinds early birthday morning

"Wake up birthday girl!" he practically yelled

"No" you groaned sinking into your pillows, you hands throwing your blanket over you head, make this go away you thought

Theodore tore your blankets off you, and jumped onto you and began blabbering about the plans of the day, he was so happy your birthday fell on a Saturday, you hated it, if you had class you could avoid all of this.

He moved you to sit upright, and continued talking about a day full of surprises

"I hate surprises" you complain

"Well you love me, so you'll like these ones" he returned, gently caressing your face with his warm hands

"Why can't we just sleep the day away in my bed, that's what I want" you said

"Tough luck, sweetheart, let's go" he smiled prompting you up

In the great hall, your friends waited for you, smiles one their faces, waiting to welcome you. Theodore insisted they go around and give you their presents one by one, followed by stating all the things they love about you.

It was embarrassing to say the least, you felt so out of body.

As the hours passed, Theodore did not talk about anything else, reminded everyone, it was getting progressively unbearable. It never ended, he had something or someone waiting for you everywhere you turned.

You knew how much he cared, how hard he was trying, you loved him, and hated yourself for being so displeased at his actions.

By nighttime, you were counting down the hours till the days end, you entered the common room, a chalkboard centring the space, a big 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' written for everyone to see.

You and your friends sat on the couch, when Theo entered, cake in hand, candles lit, your friends began to sing and clap. One final protest.

No, no, no.

You told him so clearly, no cake, and absolutely no singing. Spare me some fucking dignity you wanted to scream

He just didn't listen, placing the cake close to you, waiting for you to blow out your candles.

You threw your head back, tears stinging your eyes, breath, you reminded yourself. When breathing wasn't working you choose to get up and storm to your dorm, hot, frustrated tears flooding your face.

You ran into bed, and continued crying, perfect, you thought, this is what you wanted, right? To push Theo away, to be alone, to feel like shit, to act like shit, congratulations, you're officially a year older and officially a shitty person.

When time passed, there was only 15 minutes left, a knock on your door.

"Please don't come in" you begged

He of course didn't listen, twisting the doorknob, opening and closing the door behind himself.

Theo carefully approached you

"I'm sorry" he almost whispered rubbing your back, meeting each others sad eyes.

"No, I'm sorry" you sigh

"Can I give you your present?" he asked so politely

you nodded, inhaling a sniffle.

"Close your eyes" he requested, you did

You could hear him reached into his pocket, and place something on your head, reaching up to feel what it was, your heart dropped, immediately opening your eyes, head clocking to your mirror, to be met with a flower crown decorating your hair.

You gasped, turned to him and threw yourself into a hug, he held you tight as you cried "How did you know" you enquired

"I wrote your mother" he shrugged, attempting a smile

"One more thing" he continued, handing you a letter

"What's this?" you questioned

"Trust me, darling, just read it" He said, kissing your forehead.

Birthday Girl. Read the front, opening the parchment you almost choked when you recognised the handwriting, it was from your grandmother.

Hi sweet girl,

I will be long gone by the time you read this, but did you really think I wouldn't be there in some way on your 18th birthday.

I love you endlessly, I am picking flowers for you above, stay gentle, regardless of what this world throws at you, and remember the times in the fields, crafting our crowns, baking your cake, laughing, smiling, don't lose any petals without me!

The things I would do to spend just one more birthday with you, child.

Think of me always, as I do, you.

Love you, my flower girl.

-Grammy

You almost dropped it in shock, eyes rescanning, rereading a hundred times

"i- How" you stuttered out

"You mother saved it, she wasn't going to send it, so I went and got it for you myself" he admitted

"You did this for me" You cried

"I love you" he hushed

"I love you so much" you returned, pulling him into your bed.

Before you both drifted to sleep, you faced him, "Best birthday ever" you whispered, kissing you, he grinned

"I'm so sorry teddy" you repeat

"Enough of that, alright, I know it's hard" he sympathised

"You've changed everything for me, I think I love my birthday again, thank you my darling boy" you cry happy tears

He held you tighter.

As you sleep your birthday off, the smile on your face doesn't leave you.

requests are open <3

[channieismyboy]

chanel chance

{dilf!seonghwa x f!reader}

synopsis: When y/n is alerted that there's been a flood in her apartment and no one can take her, what will she do when Mr. Park asks her to stay with him?

masterlist | part 3 | part 5

warnings: age difference (y/n is 21, seonghwa is 29), eventual smut, language, kind of slow burn, sad attempts at humor - wc: 2.3k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Everyday, a man lives a debilitating cycle. He wakes up, goes to work, sleeps, and repeats this endless circuit. He has gotten used to this schedule over the last few years. The only joy in his life would be brought on by his little daughter, whom he loves with all his heart. He tries his very best to put on a facade of happiness whenever he spends time with her. Wanting to protect her innocence from vague feelings of misery for as long as he possibly can, until he eventually matures.

There was no room for love in his life anymore. Romance is certainly unattainable for him due to his lack of availability. It is not like he does not have opportunities to date, there are plenty of women and men who often throw themselves at him. However, it is merely for his title or money. They want to gain something from him.

This man views love differently than the people who he converses with on a daily basis. Most of those individuals view marriage, or dating as a contract. As an opportunity to enlarge their company’s resources, get more publicity from the media, or even to trick the public to buy more of their products. Since this man has seen this happen numerous times in his lifetime, even had a hands-on experience of it in his home, he has made a choice that he would no longer give romance a chance. As those couples that marry for money, or titles, almost certainly end up unhappy, divorcing quickly after marrying, or scandals of them cheating on one another are posted publicly on the news.

However, this man’s principles had begun to change once he had met someone different. Someone who he found beautiful in every way imaginable, who made his heart skip a beat in a way he never knew it could…

This man is Park Seonghwa.

-

You check the time, it is now 11:37 PM. You're lying awake, staring aimlessly at your ceiling, with the fairy lights illuminating your otherwise dark room. Replays of a few nights ago rerun in your head. You think about how gentle Mr. Park was with you, and how caring he is with his daughter. It makes your heart ache. You sadly have never got to experience a proper father-daughter relationship, or even one at all. However, you're grateful you have your uncle and your aunt. They've truly made your life special in every way imaginable. Your eyes begin to feel heavy, and the familiar wave of tiredness hits you until you're asleep.

It is now saturday morning, today you will babysit Jieun and today you will finally see Mr. Park. You get slightly too excited about that last part, and shake your head at your thoughts. You have been thinking about him a lot recently, you really shouldn't, for the sake of keeping your job.

You wake up and check your phone, scrolling aimlessly through your socials and texts from Minho and Jisung. Replying to the endless amounts of texts they've sent along with pictures of them on their vacation to Jeju Island. You struggle to get through the pure amount of them.

The afternoon passes calmly. You quickly make yourself some dinner and shower after precisely picking out your outfit to go see Mr. Park while on a facetime call with both Minho and Jisung. as annoying they are, they are never caught wearing a bad outfit.

"Are you calling us so you can look great for Mr. Hot ceo?" Minho asks with a deadpan tone, which juxtaposes with the cute cat in his lap that he's petting every so sweetly. "You wanna impress him?" Jisung adds while wiggling his eyebrows.

"It's not that, I just want to look presentable is all" you fib, while showing them the black skirt, black stockings with a deep burgundy Ralph Lauren knit sweater that jisung had picked out. Minho looks at you with an 'I'm not buying it' face and you cave in.

"Okay fine! Can you blame me for wanting to look nice when babysitting a good looking ceo's daughter? Plus I do have to look professional for this job, I can't just show up in sweats. and he probably thinks I'm a kid, so it doesn't matter anyway" you say, opting for the look you have on.

"Honestly, I would do the same" jisung adds after applauding your look.

-

After your shower, you get dressed and put on just a bit more makeup than usual, and spray on your 'Chanel Chance' perfume. It won't hurt to look nice for the man anyway. You board the bus and sit down while listening to some music. you're now deep in thought, thinking back to minho's comment. it won't hurt to look good for the man anyway. He's literally a high power ceo, regardless of how he looked, you had to go to his home and look presentable anyway. with a posh neighborhood like his and such a fancy house like his, you would look like the odd one out not arriving dressed in the very few expensive clothing items you own.

Your stop arrives and you head out quickly, mentally preparing to meet John again and explain why you are there. You feel slightly awkward just walking up a hill with nothing else but your purse and phone in hand. You wish you had a car that can drive you around, but it broke down on you and is in the shop being replaced. You try not to think about the bill ahead of you, that's too many scary thoughts in a row.

Trailing along, you are soon met with John at the gate. He looks at you up and down. "Can I see some ID?" he demands. You open your purse and show him your driver's license. He lets you through, luckily Mr. Park's home is close to the gate, so it's not a far walk. You stop at the familiar home. it's 6:25 PM, you're grateful that once again you're early. You quickly double check your hair and retouch your lip gloss before knocking on the door. You wait a bit until it opens.

This time you are greeted directly by Mr. Park, and he glances at you up and down before welcoming you with a polite smile. You do the same, and note how nicely dressed he is. The black buttoned up shirt with just a few buttons undone tucked into his black trousers complement the glasses he's wearing, he look's so professional with them on.

"Hello Ms. L/n, it's nice to see you." he says with a slight smile on his face. "Hello Mr. Park" you greet back with a bright and polite smile.

"Laura, my housekeeper isn't here on Saturdays so it's just going to be you and Jieun for today. Please come in," he gestures into the home. You take off your shoes and enter the place after closing the door. You look around his place once again, still in shock by its size and beauty. Mr. Park sure has taste. You walk behind him and follow him to the living room, where Jieun is already sitting, watching cartoons.

He turns to face you, eyes directly on yours. Suddenly it's quite hot in the room. "I'll leave you both here and I'll be back just before 9:00 PM, call if anything happens, although I know she's in great hands" he says to you before saying goodbye to his daughter.

"Enjoy your meeting Mr. Park!" you say. He exits before lovingly wishing his daughter goodbye.

-

Your time spent with Jieun is always pleasant. She's as bright and playful as ever, telling you about her latest works of art (cute scribbles) and her excitement to learn more at pre-school. She has such a bright future ahead of her, you think. The time passes quickly as soon it's almost 9:00.

You hear the familiar pitter-patter of raindrops beginning to fall down, and you silently curse to yourself. You did not bring an umbrella with you and now you'll have to walk down in the rain until you reach the bus stop. Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear Jieun scream out for her dad. You raise your head up and you greet Mr. Park.

He places Jieun down and tells her to get ready for bedtime. She does just that after saying goodbye to you with a warm hug that you so happily reciprocated.

"Alright," he says while reaching into his wallet and pulling out many bills. "This should do it for the night" and he gives you the money. You check the amount and your eyes bulge out a little at the amount. 150$ you count and recount again quickly, this is much more than last time. You shake your head and attempt to give him back the money.

"Mr. Park, this is way too much. I cannot accept this amount."

"Please, just take it. It honestly isn't a lot for me and I'm just happy you made Jieun smile so brightly." His tone and expression are so genuine you have no choice but to give in and accept it.

"Okay, I'll accept it this time Mr. Park. Thank you very much."

You head to put back on your shoes and prepare yourself to walk back in the rainfall. He watches you intently, with his head turned to the side as he leans on the wall. You feel as though you're being watched by an eagle, as you feel his eyes never once leaving your form. your cheeks burn slightly.

"Are your friends here to pick you up?" Mr. Park speaks up. "No, it's just me on my own this time" you answer.

"You're not walking home are you? I didn't see a car parked in the driveway when you came." He asked with concern laced in his soft spoken words.

"No. I'm just going to walk to the bus stop nearby-"

"I'll drive you there then" he cuts you off. He sees the familiar look of 'you don't have to' already on your face, the one he just saw moments ago while paying you. Before he lets you speak, he explains himself. "I just don't want you to get a cold out in the rain. I need my babysitter to be in perfect condition, you know."

Yet again, Mr. Park has made it impossible for you to refuse him. "Alright, if you insist, then I have no choice but to say yes" you say with a smile, and you see him laugh slightly at your words.

To say his car is nice, would be a great understatement. You have no knowledge of cars, but even to a novice like you, this car is down right spectacular. The nicely polished black outside with leather seats, just how rich is this man?

Mr. Park opens the door for you and ushers you in gently. He gets in quickly after, and you glance at your phone, after realizing it's been buzzing for quite a while now. You see all the missed calls from your Landlady. Panic surges through you, did you forget to pay your rent? No you remember sending out the amount just a week ago. what could it be then? Mr. Park can tell you're anxious.

"I'm sorry," you mutter. "It's something to do with my apartment, could I quickly make a call?" you ask. "Of course, be my guest," Mr. Park says, gesturing for you to dial the number.

The phone rings and she picks up quickly. "Hello?"

"Ms. L/n, there has been a minor flood in the apartment. You must come quickly and evacuate all of your belongings. We'll need to undergo repairs for about 3 days." You let her speak, and your face drops.

You face Mr. Park and judging from his expression, he's heard everything from your call.

"Were there any damages to my apartment room?"

"Luckily your floor had no damages, it was the floors under you that mainly got affected. Still you'll need to leave for a few days. Please come quick and find a place to stay until then. Goodbye."

You hang up the phone and think to yourself silently. Wondering who you could stay with. Mr. Park asking you the same question out loud. Minho and Jisung are too far away and you don't have a key to their apartment you explain to them.

"What about your uncle?" Mr. Park asks.

"I wish but, they're having renovations and there's barely any room for them in the house." you answer.

It's silent for a moment, the raindrops splattering heavily as the rainfall speeds up, a storm is starting to form outside. You think about any other people you know that you can stay with. The list is already quite short.

"Stay with me," and you turn your head to meet, a shocked expression to his lighthearted smile.

"I really can't. I don't wish to intrude like that." you shake your hands in defense.

"Unless you have anyone else to turn to, I'm your best bet Ms. L/n. You won't be intruding anyway. I'm not uncomfortable with it and I think Jieun would be delighted to have you over for 3 days." he shrugs, waiting for you to answer.

This is the third time he has persuaded you this night. No wonder he's a successful businessman, he can talk you right into doing whatever wants, and you're not opposing any of it.

Staying with him won't be too bad right? I mean he must have room in this mansion of his. Plus he is always busy and I have class so we won't interact as much right?

Your face begins to heat up at the thought of being in such close proximity to Mr. Park. Wait, why are you thinking of that right now?

You exhale and look at him as you've made your decision.

"I'll stay with you."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

a/n: hey yall! so long time no see. i'm going to continue this series after not touching it for almost 2 years. i'm sorry for the delay but even i had to know how this was going to end. i hope some of yall are interested in it still (praying actually). anyways please enjoy this part, i'll see you soon!!

please let me know if you wanna be added to the tagslist!!

tagslist: @miamyre @flowersiinherhaiir @vvsmydiamonds127 @prodsh00ky @jhmylove @sunwoosberrie @jenotation @seonghwasstar @zwiehe @nagadiluc @kodzukein @heavenly-mobo @nevieatiny @smeetb0ne3 @yeosxxx @koalakoala8 @imalildelulu @sookacc @lunaa2210 @asjkdk @wal-nutt @iheartyeonjunnn @yoonsanbin

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter three:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: smut (semi-public, dirty talk, brief thigh riding, lingerie kink, degradation and praise at the same time? just filthy tbh)

➴ word count: 1.5k

➴ author’s note: …i have nothing to say for myself.

liked by spotify, billboard, morgan.grace and 1,028,923 others

sophiamontenegro rip to my feelings. 11/11.

View all 33,629 comments

user1 RIGHT ON MY BDAY TOO LETSS GOOO

billboard 🎤❤️‍🔥

morgan.grace i love u i love u i love u

jackhughes ❤️

user2 YESSSS YESSSS LORD YESSS

user6 user12 this is probably a good time to tell you that i wanna break up. bye

sophiamontenegro user6 user12 nah that’s wild…

user4 sing ho!

user86 WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT JACK BEING ALL OVER SOPHIA’S INSTAGRAM LIKE THAT MAN IS LIKING AND COMMENTING ON EVERY POST WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOUR

user8 user86 girl CHILL that little guy is a whore he’ll do anything for a girl including being active on social media

— ♡

WITH all of the things you had to do before releasing your album, it had been almost two weeks since the last time you saw Jack.

Which, if you were to be one hundred percent honest, you were grateful for. Trying to figure out what you were feeling whenever you were around him was already hard enough to do on its own, now doing it with Jack around? Even worse.

You still texted everyday, although you didn’t know what that meant in your… fuck-buddies-situationship. With your previous arrangements, you only texted if one of you wanted to have sex. Besides that? Never.

But, in your ultimate defense, Jack was the one to start it. With simple texts like “hey, how are you?”, he built some type of text schedule between the two of you, and you wouldn’t be the one to break it.

To your extreme horror, you actually missed him: his masculine, clean scent, his warm hands around you, his jokes, his laugh, his kisses and his dick.

You often wondered if he was having sex with someone else during the time you were apart and that thought made you ache. You knew it wasn’t any of your business, and you knew he was technically allowed to do that— and so were you— but it still hurt nonetheless.

“Can we get some warm lighting on top of her, please?” The photographer’s voice brought you back to the present, where you were shooting some pictures for your collaboration with Skims. You never cared much about the Kardashians but damn if those lingerie didn’t look good on you.

Someone moved the lamp around so that the warm lighting was now hitting your face, and you started posing again. It was your last outfit, and you were tired. It was half past nine and after shooting for six hours straight, you just wanted to go home and sleep. But, you still had at least fifteen more minutes.

“That’s great, Soph, you look awesome.” The man complimented you, earning a smile. At least the people there were nice and you felt comfortable enough wearing lingerie around them. “One more for me, please.”

— ♡

liked by kyliejenner, skims, trevorzegras and 3,982,022 others

sophiamontenegro angel in blue, devil in yellow. skims

View all 17,628 comments

trevorzegras 🥲🥲

arianagrande jesus !!!!! ♡ 🪄

user1 how are u real girl wth

user7 GOR GE OUS

jackhughes i like blue

user2 jackhughes soldier get up…

morgan.grace Im pregnant

user3 i wanna be u when i grow up

user8 if i buy the set will u come with it

— ♡

ENTERING your changing room, you felt exhausted. Everyone left to have dinner and you were waiting for Grace to arrive, so she could pick you up. You were still wearing the two piece set, a blue babydoll and panties; your hair was still perfectly styled and your makeup flawless.

You heard a knock on the door, and you scrunch your nose, wondering why Grace would knock. She was against all types of knocking.

Opening the door, nothing could’ve prepared you for Jack standing there, looking gorgeous as always; gray sweatpants, a loose hoodie and blue eyes devouring you.

“Jack? What are you doing here?” You asked, confused.

“Grace told me you’d be here, shooting something,” he said, eyeing your entire body, taking his time. “Geez, I wish she would’ve told me you were shooting for Playboy.”

“It’s not for Playboy, idiot. It’s for Skims.” You rolled your eyes, opening your door and letting him in.

He leaned against the closed door, smirking. “I don’t know who Skims is, but I wanna tell them thank you.”

You giggled, cheeks red.

“Do a little twirl for me, baby,” he asked, voice soft yet demanding. You did, slowly twirling around, showing him your set. “So fucking pretty.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah, Sophia.” He stepped closer, putting his hand on your hips like always. You breathed in, not wanting to confess how much you had missed it. “And you’re all dolled up too, huh?” He briefly kissed you, just a tiny peck, really, which did wonders to you anyway. “I want to fuck you with those panties on. Make you ride me with that baby doll.”

“Jack,” you moaned, feeling your pussy starting to get wet against the fancy fabric of your panties. “We can’t do it here. What if there are people outside?”

He laughed, holding you closer, hands running up and down your thighs and ass, ignoring your wet spot on purpose. “What? Like you care about people knowing how much of a slut you are?” He scoffed. “Please, Soph. We’ve been here before,”

Your mind brought you back to that night at Nico’s place, or that one time you both fucked inside his car, or the day you sucked him off in the Devils’ locker room. Semi-public sex wasn’t exactly a problem to you, but putting on a fight always felt good.

“We have to be quick,” you whispered, giving in. As you always did.

“With you riding me while wearing this? I’m sure we’ll be.” He stated, and you laughed, as you both kissed again, bruising, hard and passionately.

His tongue caressed yours while his hands did the same with your body, fingers finding your clit over the panties and rubbing it once, twice, before moving to your hole, inserting his finger over the panties.

He lifted you with ease, leaving you with no choice but to wrap your legs around his hips, hoping that you wouldn’t leave a wet spot on his hoodie. He sat on the couch that occupied half of the room, with you on his lap, kissing you still. Your head was dizzy, mind going everywhere at once, and you couldn’t help but grind on his cock, indeed leaving a wet spot on his pants.

He pulled his pants down, and you eyed his perfect, hard cock: big, thick and the mushroom head red, spurting pre-cum. All for you.

“Inside me, please,” you mumbled, rubbing your clit on his thighs.

He laughed before grabbing a condom from his pocket. “That’s new. I didn’t know sluts knew how to say please. I guess you are desperate.”

And you were. It’s been two weeks since the last time he was inside you and you were climbing up the walls.

“Jack, please,” your voice sounded way too needy, even for you, but you didn’t care. If begging would get you his dick, then so be it.

“With you asking so prettily, who am I to say no?” He answered before pulling your panties to the side and lifting you up just enough to sit you on his— now— protected cock. You both moaned, you clenching your hole around him, clit throbbing underneath the lace. “Fuck, Soph. You’re milking my cock, baby.”

“God,” you moaned, slowly starting to ride his cock. You knew you both needed to be fast, so you were going to make it quick.

Sliding up and down on his dick, you rode him with ease, searching for your own release, while he pushed his hips forward, slamming into you with precision, hitting all of your right spots.

You two were too familiar with each other’s body, you knew each other so well and the realization made your head hurt and your clit throb.

Putting your hands on his shoulders to support your body, you were moving fast, fucking yourself open on his cock, while his right hand stroked your clit hard and fast, making you squirm and whine.

“Look at you, such a pretty thing, letting me wreck this tight pussy,” Jack whispered in your ear, still fucking you nine days into Sunday. “You’re mine, aren’t you, baby? All mine to fuck and care.”

“Mhpmm, yes, fuck, baby, yours,” you moaned a little too loud, forgetting about the fact that someone could be outside, hearing you and Jack fucking like two animals.

All that mattered now was coming on Jack’s cock and making him come too— which didn’t take long, since you both arrived at the same time a few minutes after that.

Coming down from the high, you both tried to make your breathing steady again, you resting your forehead on Jack’s shoulder, not wanting to leave, not now, not ever, his cock sitting still inside of you, making you feel full and warm and taken care of.

“All great in there, sweetheart?” You heard him whispering in your ear, while caressing your back with his left hand.

“Mhm.”

He chuckled. “Was I too rough?”

Even though it was clear you loved when he acted rough with you, he still asked every now and then. You thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Raising your body slightly, you stared at him, blue eyes reflecting yours, making you smile, tiredly.

“Nothing that I couldn’t handle.” You shrugged, genuinely happy. Exhausted? Yes. Happy? Also yes. “Jack?” You whispered, biting your bottom lip.

“Yeah, baby?” He whispered back, pressing his thumbs against your lip so you’d stop hurting it.

“I like you,”

You weren’t expecting him to say anything back, honestly. Coming to terms with the fact that you liked him was still something you were working on, but it would hurt less in the end if he pushed you away now, before getting your hopes too high.

Smiling right back at you, he kissed your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and then your lips, gently.

“I like you too, baby.”

[laurorne]

༊*·˚ VALYRIAN STEEL | aegon ii targaryen x sister! reader summary: you’ve found that your brother was better as a lover, in more ways than one. warnings: nsfw, minors dni, targaryen incest, top!reader, smut, p in v, riding, slight masochism, a tiny bit of a blood kink? word count: 0.6k a/n: man i love tom glynn carey 😭

Aegon II Targaryen is a messy brother. With his choppily cut hair and his dire need to do well by you, you find him endearing more oft than not. He is far from the perfect son, or the shining example of a prince. But he is loyal, to his family, to his dragon, to you.

He is messy in the sense that he's barely put together, with last minute gifts that fall apart before his eyes and half-thought out plans. Like the time he had the Conquerors crown pulled from the Red Keeps vaults, only to have the rubies removed and placed into a heavy Valyrian steel necklace —the steel from a smelted ceremonial blade mind you— accompanied by moonstones imported from the Summer Isles.

Your grandsire had yelled for a good twenty minutes before his breath left him and he needed to rest, the old fart. And your mother… oh gods she had nearly nagged both your ears off, and you hadn’t even had a clue as to why the scolding was about until Aegon sheepishly presented it to you. The nameday present spoiled now, but ever heartwarming.

After that unfortunate incident, you'd found yourself wearing that necklace nearly everyday, having dresses altered just to accommodate the sheer size and intricacy of the piece. You barely took it off, the jangling of the layered metal became a comfort over the years of your marriage.

Like right now.

Your hips roll in a slow, wide circle. Your hands pinning his chest to the bed as you work yourself atop him. He's flushed red across his neck and chest, cheeks ruddy as he pants into the night air, Adams apple bobbing deliciously as he fails to swallow down the noises he's making.

"Not much t- to say now, hmm?" You glance down at him, licking your lips as you scratch your nails down his chest and stomach.

His breath hitches at a particularly fast roll of your hips, his hands pawing at the flesh of your hips as he dares to take a peak up at you. "I don't have much to say, when you- when-"

You purposely speed up, lifting your hips only to roll back down onto him, your tits bouncing and your necklace clinking. The scarlet rubies catching what little moonlight they can as you use Aegon like a common whore.

"What was that, my sweet husband?"

"You're a cruel sister." He catches his breath, finally. His fingers pinching at the skin on your hipbone, his other hand skating over your stomach and up to your tit as you lean down into his face.

"I'm only as cruel as you are wanting."

He squeezes your breast in a soft hand, thumbing your nipple as you begin slowing your pace again. Edging him to his finish, oh-so slowly.

He hums, his thighs tensing beneath you as you pinch roughly at his nipple. He arches up into the touch as you flick over it with a nail, taking in the way his brows pinch together and his lashes flutter.

You surge forwards to catch his lips in a kiss, all teeth clashing and messy tongue. He bites down on your lip a bit too hard and you can feel the release of tension in the soft skin as blood meets your tongue.

You breathe out, pulling away by a breadths width as you begin swirling your hips, his dick heavy in your cunt as you watch a droplet of blood land on his chin. He's grinning up at you stupidly, a string of reddish spit linking your lips together before he cups the side of your face and drags you back in.

Tonguing at the cut on your lip as he moans, hips rocking up into yours finally. The other wrapping around your middle as he begins fucking up into you, punching a breath out of your lungs as he devours you.

Aegon was a messy husband, and an even messier lover. But by the Seven, did you love it.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

birthday sex

pairing: jill valentine x reader

tags/cws: lingerie, oral, thigh riding, overstim, sex toys, jill is a tease and a menace

summary: reader and jill are dating and reader doesn't know what to get jill for her birthday and ends up deciding on surprising her by wearing a lace bodysuit

a/n: div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

wc: 1.5k

tags: @vaaaaaiolet @rigorwhoring @withonly-sweetheart

Buying Jill a birthday present is impossible. Whenever you ask her what she wants, her answer is always, 'I don't need anything, I have you, and I'm more than happy with that', and you’d persist if her compliments didn’t fluster you – they always do. But as her special day gets closer, you become more and more fixated on that one thought: she deserves something special. 

You decide that if the only thing she wants is you, then you'll wrap yourself up like a present and - the realization hits you. You've never worn lingerie in front of Jill - or anyone, for that matter. You’d always thought it’d be such a hassle to go out and spend so long trying things on for them to be taken off immediately if and when you first get to show them off.

And you’re proven right about the hassle. You spend hours (and a fortune) at Victoria's Secret one afternoon, and come home absolutely exhausted after you find the perfect lace bodysuit (and take advantage of the store's 5 for 35 dollars sale on panties).

You're even more exhausted the next day when you have to figure out how to put the garment on without an employee guiding you - you pray it'll be easier to take off, or you'll have to let Jill rip it off of you. Which wouldn't be all that bad, come to think of it.

Your tiredness subsides – or is overwritten by desire – when Jill walks in dressed in her typical office wear, which never fails to turn you on. As does everything else she wears.

You greet her at the door, a little giddy about the surprise you've planned for her. It’s not that you’re not always happy to see her, you’re just usually half-asleep on the couch after your own long work day. 

Jill notices your unique excitement and gives you a look of suspicion - intrigue, too, and asks, "what's going on?"

"Nothing," you say, sarcastically adding, "Oh, except for your birthday. I almost forgot."

"I'm sure you did. It's not like you've been asking me everyday for the last three weeks how I want to spend it."

"I know you probably want to relax a bit first since you've had a long day at work, but I do want to give you your present."

"I told you not to get me anything."

"You'll like it… I hope."

"Now I'm really curious."

"Then, follow me."

You take her hand and lead her to her bedroom. You have her sit on the bed.

"Stay there," you say, "and close your eyes."

"Fine, but I swear to god if it's some sort of reptile or tarantula-"

"Not even close."

Though her eyes are closed, she can hear your clothes hitting the floor, and her lips curve into a smile, knowing what's to come.

You walk towards her, close enough that she can touch you. You take her hand and guide it over the fabric and she hums in satisfaction. "So far, I'm liking my gift."

"Open your eyes and see the rest."

She does, and you see that rare full grin of hers that makes you want to jump with joy (though, your mind is a bit preoccupied with the thought of what she might do to you in the coming moments, so if you equate arousal and joy, then yeah, you’re feeling pretty fucking joyful).

"Take a seat, beautiful," she says, patting her lap.

Jill has you right where she wants you, straddling her thigh, ruining her good pants since the lacy panties do little to cover up your wetness. It's not like you could hide it from her anyway. It's painted all over your face— lust.

You lean in to kiss her, but she grabs your cheeks before your lips can touch hers.

"Ah-ah," she says, "my birthday, my rules."

She coaxes you to nod with her hand still cupping your face.

"You're not even gonna kiss me?" you whine.

"If I kiss you, then I have to close my eyes and right now, I want to see you."

"It's only fair if I get to see you too."

"I'm right here, baby doll."

She knows what you mean, but you have no rebuttal. The fact of the matter is: Jill looks hot with or without her clothes on.

"Maybe you should give me a reason to take off my clothes," she says. "Why don't you finish what you started?"

Her gaze points you towards the wet spot on her thigh.

Desire surpasses embarrassment and you place your hands on Jill's shoulders for better leverage as you slowly but steadily grind against her thigh.

"Look at me," she says, lifting your chin. "As much as I love your gorgeous body, I wanna see your pretty face too."

If only there were words to describe her beauty, maybe, then, you'd be able to use them. You’re speechless, but not quiet, your mouth is occupied by breathy moans.

Not because she's nice, but because she's impatient, Jill hoists you up and strips down to her underwear. Before she places you back where you belong – straddling her thigh – she finds the buttons at the crotch of your bodysuit and undoes them, leaving your glistening slit on display.

She coaxes you into your first orgasm of the night with her sultry voice and her hands on your hips, guiding you.

You'd be an idiot to think it was over.

It's orgasm after orgasm until you're crying, begging Jill to give you a breather, begging her to take her clothes all the way off, begging her to let you touch her.

But no, she holds a vibrator to your clit and tells you you're a good girl for taking it. Those two words "good girl" have you wrapped around her finger(s), which pump in and out of you, over and over again.

"Jill, I can't," you say after the umpteenth time she's sent you over the edge. "It's too much."

"Am I hurting you?" she asks with genuine concern.

"No, it doesn't hurt… I'm just sensitive."

She hums in understanding, in momentary surrender, as she removes all stimulation.

You sigh as relief washes over you, but it only lasts for a second before it turns back into need. It's like she's trained you, reduced you to the aching feeling in your core.

You watch as she cleans the toys she used on you with the same meticulousness that she does with her weapons (the ones that aren't used against you). She's only half-focused, peeking at you in her periphery. You have the same power over her as she does over you. She cannot suppress her desire anymore.

"Fuck it," she mutters, placing the vibrator on the bedside table and climbing into bed with you.

"Fuck me," you say.

"That's the plan," she says.

The next conscious thought you have is how soft her lips are despite the fervor in her kisses.

"Can I go down on you?" you ask, giving her your most irresistible pleading face.

She's usually reluctant to let you take control in that way despite the fact that it makes her cum the hardest. It feels like she's baring her soul to you when she lets go of control in those moments.

"Promise I'll take good care of you," you say. "And we can stop whenever you want."

If there is one thing she feels for you, it is love. And what is love if not trusting another person with your whole heart?

(If there is one thing you feel it is honored to be trusted and to trust in return). 

"Okay," she says, and lies down.

You let her take off her own clothes – what little is left on her body.

"You're so beautiful," you say.

"Shut up," she says, flustered, vulnerable, but most of all insistent that you are the beautiful one in the relationship. It might be the number one thing you argue about.

"Make me," you say, and the words may be cliche, but they have a near perfect success rate.

She shoves your head between her thighs and moans when your tongue swipes along her folds – groans when you pull back to say, "I want you to let yourself feel good, give yourself a birthday gift."

"I was," she whines – a rare sound, one she must’ve learned from you, "but you stopped."

Your apology is muffled against her skin, but your touch can say more than words ever could.

It's her natural instinct to push you away when she nears the edge, feeling vulnerable knowing you'll get to see her, feel her, taste her, in the most intimate way possible. So, when you know she’s about to cum, you grab her thighs, firm but gentle still, and keep your face buried between them.

She barely has time to grab a pillow to muffle her moans. You’d already gotten enough noise complaints from your neighbors, it’s common courtesy at this point. 

It takes her a moment to get her bearings straight as you've managed to completely wear her out, and you consider making a joke about her age showing, but you don't.

Instead you say, "happy birthday."

To which she replies a mumbled, "thanks" as she hoists you up so that you're face to face.

And you fall asleep on her chest before you can say anything else.

[arc-misadventures]

How well do you Coco could make Ren look like a girl?

'A Lady's Face is Like the Dessert; Everyday she has a Different Face.'

Coco: Jaune, I have an important question for you!

Jaune: What's up, Coco? Hi, Ren.

Ren: Hi, Jaune.

Coco: Now then, let me pose an interesting question to you! How could you make, Ren look more like a girl?

Jaune: Simple: Just make him wear makeup.

Coco: No that's...?

Coco put her hand in her chin as she inspected, Ren's face.

Coco: Actually no, that would have worked, that would have worked very easily...! But, no! That's not how we do it!

Coco: Entirely...

Jaune: Then, how do we do it?

Coco: First off we put up a screen!

Jaune: Eh?

Suddenly, a dividing screen appears, blocking Jaune's vision.

Jaune: What, where did you...?

Coco: Next we strip them!

Jaune: Wha?

Ren: WHAT?!

Jaune suddenly sees, Ren's clothes being tossed over the divider: Down from her shoes to his dress shirt.

Jaune: Uhhh?

Coco: We apply some light make up~!

Ren: Hey, wait?!

Coco: A chop to the throat to readjust the voice~!

Ren: A what?

(Thwack!)

Ren: (Cough cough cough!) The hell, Coco?!

Jaune: D-Did his voice get higher?

Coco: And, lastly we get rid of the bindings~!

Jaune: Bindings?

Ren: Wait, no!

Jaune suddenly saw several Velcro straps flying over the divider. One particular large binding landing his hands. He looked over the binding in his hand, wondering why the hell, Ren was wearing this.

Jaune: Ren, why do you have these things...?

Coco: It's simple, Jaune! How else was he supposed to stay hidden?

Jaune: What the hell are you talking abou...?

Coco pushed the divider aside to show a, Coco with a large smug smile, and standing next to her was a brunette girl with an plump things, and a sizeable chest.

Jaune: Uhh?! W-W-W-What the hell?!! I-Is that...?! Is that you, REN?!

Coco: Ahh-Ah-Ah~! You'd be mistaken there, Jaune! May I present to you, Lie Rin~!

Jaune: R-Rin?! Ren?! No, Rin... AHH?! The hell?! Have you been a girl the whole time?!

Rin: Ahh... y-yeah... I have always been a girl... S-Surprise...?

Jaune: Why?!

Rin: N-Nora thought I was a boy, and it just sorta stuck... but then puberty hit, and I... Well, I just wrapped them up, and... yeah...

Jaune: And, you knew this, Coco?!

Coco: Yep~!

Jaune: How?!

Coco: Woman's intuition~!

Jaune: I'd call bullshit, but I have seven sisters, and a mother who have been using that line on me for years, so yeah.

Rin: I'm sorry for lying to you, Jaune... I just got used to dressing like... like, Ren that I couldn't stop.

Jaune: That's... okay? Wait, Nora obvious knows this. She has an unexpected knowledge on many, many things... It's scary what she knows about...

Rin: Quite scary...

Jaune: But does, Pyrrha know?

Rin: Yeah... I told her after that incident with the Boartusks, and those mud holes.

Jaune: Cause the three of you feel in the mud, and had a shower together?

Rin: Yeah, pretty much...

Jaune: Wait... Shower...?! You've were staring at my junk that day!

Rin: What?! N-No I wasn't!

Jaune: Bullshit! You were looking at me so long that there is no way you didn't see my four inches!

Rin: What, you're not four inches, you're at least seve...?! EEEP?!

Jaune: I fucking knew it!

Coco: Seven inches?! That explains why he refuses to wear speedos...

Jaune: That's it missy! We need to have a private chat!

Rin: Whoa hey, Jaune?!

Jaune grabbed, Rin's hand, and pulled her towards their dorm room. As they were leaving, they walked by, Nora, and Pyrrha who offered, Rin a wave as they walked by.

Nora: So, how did it go?

Coco: Quite well if I say so myself.

Pyrrha: He may be upset, but I'm sure they can work things out.

Nora: Jaune-Jaune may be angry, but they'll be able to work things out.

Coco: Considering how big he was getting, I think they can find several things to talk about~!

Pyrrha: Jaune's seven inches soft you know.

Coco: S-Soft?! Then how big is he?!

NP: Ten inches.

Coco: Holy shit...

Coco: Well, we'll know how well their chat goes, based on how much she'll be limping in the morning~!

Nora: Hehehe~1

Pyrrha: ...

Pyrrha: You want to have a go with him too, don't you, Coco?

Coco: Fuck yes I do!

Pyrrha: do you mind if we...?

Nora: Only if we all do it together...

Coco: ...

Pyrrha: ...

Coco: Fuck it, I'm game~!

Pyrrha: Oh, this is going to be fun~!

[firegirl888101]

Hi! I’ve been re-reading the insatiable madness series and can’t wait for the next chapter! I have a little thought though, what if reader cosplays a character the harbingers know? Like Raiden Ei or Zhongli? And then reader almost perfecting the makeup look and persona of that character that the harbingers think they are the character reader is cosplaying, really wanna see their reactions! Have a good day/afternoon/night! :))

- 🌮 anon

Ladies and Gentlemen, The Special Ask:

In the canon story I'm not going to include cosplay regarding clothes or wigs.

(this is because they're a college student with parents who barely support their genshin habit) 💀

Plus that shit is expensive, I think we all know Y/N doesn't have that type of money.

This question was asked by five different people funnily enough, and they were all within the same weekspan! Either the same person asked the same question but wrote it differently grammatically every single time, or that's one hell of a coincidence. Either way, I wanted to answer since it's a fun concept.

I did think about this when coming up with a plot - the Harbingers were first supposed to meet Y/N at a cosplay competition actually! But, I changed it since there would be way too many questions and too much chaos that I probably wouldn't be able to convey well :(

@fuhuaily you asked about this on the 30th of January, I've mentioned you since you didn't put on anon mode <3

Just wanted to warn people that I decided to choose Raiden Ei as the specific cosplay, which means there will be she/her usage when Y/N is wearing the cosplay. This is because Childe sees the cosplay as an entirely different person in his mind, thank you!

Childe was having a relatively normal morning.

Sure, he'd woken up with worst neck cramp he's ever experienced in his life, but he felt ready to take The Balladeer in another fight. To him, this means he's in tip-top form.

Well, he thought everything was normal until he realised that you were nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, has anyone seen Y/N this morning?" He questioned his insufferable comrades, rolling his eyes when seeing their exasperated faces when they turned to him.

"Probably sleeping in again." Scaramouche rolled his eyes in return. "That mortal sleeps later and later everyday."

"Hm. I thought they'd be crying." Dottore shrugged.

"Why?" Pierro mumbled worriedly, a sharp glare crossing his face and waiting for the doctor to explain himself.

"They had a tantrum due to their homework, not a big deal."

"They had a what!?" Pulcinella raised his voice, worry in his tone. "And you didn't tell a soul?"

"They were being a child. No, not like Childe. Ugh, that's besides the point. They were whining about biology, something about forgetting which parts of the heart were which." Dottore explained, an uninterested face present on his face.

"You ought to report these situations sooner, Dottore." Pierro scolded him.

"Why didn't you help them?"

"Jester, he did." Columbina smiled politely at her superior, a small wave gestured to get his attention. "The Decider didn't listen and ran off."

"Tartaglia, go see what they're up to. If they truly are in their room crying again it's best we force bring them downstairs for a chat." Pulcinella coughed into his hand.

"Who makes the orders, you or I?" Pierro turned to look at him.

"What are you going to do about it?" Scaramouche snickered into his hand. "According to Dottore, we're going to be stuck here. Can't tattle to the Tsaritsa now, can you?"

"Don't you start with me, puppet." Pierro glared at him, feeling all the other harbinger's gazes on the two.

"The minute we get back to the Zapolyarny Palace, I will make sure everyone is reminded why the rankings exist." He threatened.

"Ah, and the Tsaritsa will be informed of everything that takes place. I must remind you not to take things too far otherwise it will get worse for you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. If we get back home." Childe rolled his eyes, walking upstairs after loitering at the bottom to hear the drama.

"I heard that!" Pierro shouted from the bottom.

Childe sighed and walked up to your bedroom door, the nameplate crooked and slightly dusty. He knocked on the door three times. Actually, make it a fourth. For good measure, he reasoned with himself.

"Don't come in! Who is it, and what do you want?" He heard you call out from behind the door, your voice barely discernable.

"The boss man is wondering if you're alright. He's concerned about you crying or something." He answered.

"Whaaaat?" You sarcastically shouted at the door, already recognising Griffin Burn's voice shouting from the other side. "Noooo."

"You totally were."

"Was not. Anyway, I can't come out my room right now. I'm a little... occupied with something." You called out, hairspraying the blonde wig in front of you.

"Listen, as much as I care about you being busy and personally wanting to leave you to it, it's not up for discussion. Pierro and Pulcinella don't look pleased." He rubbed the back of his neck to soothe his cramp.

"When do they not look pleased? Sometimes it seems like simply being in their presence pisses them off." You sighed to yourself, foregoing the wig you were working on and taking pictures of yourself in the mirror.

"Well, I wouldn't say that's the reason... But the way you turn their mood upside down is always funny to watch." He chuckled to himself.

"Whatever, can you leave me alone now? Tell them I can't come down right now - I'll be there in half an hour at most."

Childe felt confused with this. What could you possibly be doing that causes you to be unable to come outside your room straight away? From what he knows, you don't have any evident hobbies. Throughout the days the Harbingers have stayed in your home, you're forced to spend time with them only and answer questions they have about this world.

This is the first time you've ever done something by yourself, and from the sound of your voice, you seem to like doing it too. So much to the point that you got irritated when he tried to make you come downstairs right away. Seeing you act independant for once is a big change he wasn't expecting this morning.

He also doesn't know why, but he doesn't like this change one bit.

Ideas cross Childe's mind as he tried to guess what you could be doing. Eventually... no. No, no, no, no, no. You couldn't possibly be... No, you can't be. An hour for doing that??? If that truly was the answer you must have some impeccable stamina! Maybe the urge to have a spar with you wasn't as outrageous as he thought.

"Hmm... Okay. But, I don't know what Pierro will say to this. If only you had a reliable man on the inside who could tell him to leave you alone for now. Oh wait, that's me." He slyly pushed an idea he thought of in his head.

"What's your point? I don't like that tone of voice you're using." You rolled your eyes at the door.

"Let me in and show me what you're doing! In return, I'll defend you when we go down in an hour or when another Harbinger comes up."

"Seriously? Are you actually blackmailing me right now?"

"Blackmail?" Childe feigned a shocked gasp. "Of course not, it's just a deal within both of our self-interests."

"Riiiiight. Your interest being what I'm doing, which is very nosy by the way. And my interest is not being in trouble with Pierro. For some reason, he's always the one turning my voice against me. Ugh, I hate my life, I've been reduced to a hormonal teenager who whines and complains all the time. Oh wait, that was me years ago."

"Just open the fucking door."

"Fine, but you have to promise not to tell anyone." You gave up, putting down your phone in your hand and tucking it under one of your pillows.

"No way, did you give up that quick?" Childe spluttered.

"Obviously not. I just figured that you'd go on and on and on about it. Plus, you'll probably find out eventually if you search through all my cupboards."

Childe put his hand on the doorknob, his fingers shaking in anticipation. He was going to be the first Harbinger to enter your room, and you had no problems with that? It seems his day really is going great today!

With a deep breath, he pushed through the door, anticipating your room to be neat and tidy. However, unlike your consistent checks to make sure the house was tidy, your bedroom unfortunately wasn't.

Looking in your direction, you were kneeling on the floor with a can of something he didn't recognise in your hands. Whatever you were looking at intently looked like it was about to fall over any second, the blonde hair being propped up by a cardboard box on your bed.

"Who...? Where's Y/N, and what are you doing with that hair in front of you!?" He exclaimed, not recognising the person in front of him.

Is Childe really this shallow to not recognise me when I don't look like myself? Maybe I can use this somehow... You thought to yourself, deciding to pull a small prank.

"Daring to enter my personal chambers without my permission..." You slowly turned around, trying your best to keep you movement rigid and stoic.

"You are aware it's not the most intelligent of ideas for lower lifeforms to anger their superiors, correct?"

Childe couldn't move, he didn't recognise the person in front of him. She had purple eyes and raven hair, her plait having the same shade of purple at the tips. She wore a stone cold glare on her face which gave no hint of mercy, he figured as much considering the tone of voice she used before. The thought of her not giving him any mercy made him feel excited, has he finally found a worthy opponent to spar with in this world?

"Well, will you at least give an excuse for your blatant blundering?" You narrowed your eyes with folded arms.

"I..." Childe's eyes shook, his dull eyes shining in adoration. "I want to fight you."

Hah? Even when Childe doesn't know it's actually me, he still wants to fight me? Of course he would...

You can't actually fight him. The safest option right now would be to break character. But, this is too fun. Let's keep going.

"You disturbed my peace within my own sanctuary, and now demand things of me?" You questioned him, taking a step closer.

"Do you really wish to taste the engulfing lightning laying dormant in my blade?"

"I do." Childe nodded, displaying his own hydro blades, their glow lighting up the room.

"Very well." You nodded, unsheathing the engulfing lightning polearm you made from its custom case.

"You're not going to take my request for battle seriously? Why fight with a weapon as shoddy as that?"

"Bitch!" You broke character.

"This was my first ever prop I made myself! Apologise right now or I'll kick you out of my house!"

"Wait, Y/N? That was you all along?" Childe cautiously stepped closer, his blades disappearing with his change of thought.

"You're really... them?" He eyed you up and down, eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

"Yes, you prick!"

"How are you all purply? And the way you acted before, it was nothing like how you usually are!"

"I wanted to mess with you since you didn't recognise who I was. It's such a shame I was dressed as the Raiden Shogun, it would have been much easier if I wasn't cosplaying an archon."

"Raiden Shogun? As in the Electro Archon!?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot you didn't go to Inazuma. Well you do, but after the Traveller finishes their business there." You thought outloud. "But still, fuck you for calling my masterpiece 'shoddy'!"

"It's not even made out of metal! Good thing you'll never become a weaponsmith..." He laughed nervously, eyeing your angry strare growing by the second.

"Anyway, could you finally tell me what you're doing in here? It's not just pretending to be an Archon, right?"

"Of course not. Also I'm not 'pretending to be' anyone, I'm cosplaying." You explained, picking up your hairspray and continuing to spray the golden locks.

"...What the fuck is cosplaying?"

"It's a hobby of mine. To put it in simple terms for someone as uneducated as yourself, you dress up as fictio-- uh, people you admire."

"You seriously admire the Electro Archon? Scaramouche would have your head for that." Childe rolled his eyes, unable to hide a mocking grin.

"I don't admire her. In fact, my opinion of her is quite negative. I just find her beautiful, so, I wanted to cosplay as her." Yeah, that negative opinion of her is only due to the fact that now you have to deal with her prototype puppet bullying you both physically and mentally.

"How many of your wacky costumes do you even have?"

"Quite a lot. I recently sold a couple online because I don't wear them much anymore. I got a lot of money for it ya know?"

"Damn, so this is an actual business you've got going on then."

"Exactly. Anyway, can you get out now? I showed you what I was doing." You shooed him away with a hand gesture.

"Nuh-uh. What are you doing to that blonde hair on your bed?"

"Don't even get me started on this Navia wig. It's the last part of her outfit I need and the hairspray ISN'T STICKING. I have spent almost 15 minutes trying to still the curls and it isn't working. If I'm not careful I'll dry it out!" You complained, aggressively spraying the hair.

Childe just stared, feeling the hairspray shroud his lungs leading to him cough excessively.

"Can't you just, not do that? If it's not naturally meant to be that way why are you trying to force the hair to keep still?"

"Styling, my friend. It's because styling exists."

"Riiiiight..." Childe dragged out the vowel, accidentally mocking you from earlier.

"Wait, do you have Lord Capitano's outfit??" He asked suddenly, practically having stars in his eyes.

"Ah, no, I don't. I wouldn't be able to pull off a cosplay of him anyway. Hmm, I don't know about you, but I think he'd be overjoyed at the fact you can't cosplay as him." You answered, snickering into your hand.

"Why would I use one of your wacky costumes when I can get the real thing from the man himself?? I just have to fight him for it!" He excitedly proclaimed, running out of the room whilst shouting his name.

"Oh shit, CHILDE NO!"

Running down the stairs after him without thinking, you were greeted with the Harbingers looking exasperated at a very loud and excited Tartaglia trying to fight Capitano but just being dodged.

"This is why I keep my hobbies to myself.." You sighed into your hands, watching the scene unfold with the rest of the Harbingers.

"Decider, what did you feed him this ti--"

All the Harbingers turned to you with wide eyes, some looking confused and some (Scaramouche) enraged.

"What the fuck... do you think you're wearing?" He grumbled, voice gradually getting louder as his shock wore off into anger.

Uh oh. You forgot you were still in your full get-up... AND THE BALLADEER IS RIGHT THERE. THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED!

"Let's calm down, and-"

"I asked you a question, mortal." His teeth clenched, stepping dangerous steps closer towards you.

"WHY ARE YOU WEARING HER CLOTHES? You could probably fool an incel like Childe, but I would never be fooled by your appearance. What do you think you're doing, pretending to be that... that.... traitor...!"

"Well, I just thought-"

"You thought wrong." He snapped. "What would possess you to dress like someone I hate? Someone you know I despise."

"Listen, you have every right to feel frustrated with the character I decided to dress up as today. I don't fault you one bit for that. But you have to understand, this was just bad luck. Of all the days I decide to wear this cosplay..." You tried to reason with him, leading to his eyes snapping open.

"You mean to tell me you do this to others? And I thought I was evil." He scoffed.

"The only people who think of themselves as evil are people who are trying to be looked at that way." You winced at his accusation.

"Except Dottore, that man is vile in both personality and hygiene."

"Genuinely shut your mouth." Dottore scratched his ear, only proving your point and causing many Harbingers near him to scoot away.

"That has nothing to do with this." He folded his arms. "You know, I've been getting sick of your attitude as of late, aren't you the one who always makes me apologise when I do something wrong? Why don't you do that for a change?"

"Hah? But I already apologised?" You muttered.

"Don't make stupid excuses. All you did was take fake-pity as if you're a friend of mine. I want you on your knees with a heartfelt apology."

Fuck that. You're not apologising sincerely to this piece of shit. Yeah, you messed up and genuinely feel bad, but you'd never tell him that.

"Uh, no thank you." You waved him off. "I didn't even wear this to torment you, I was checking to make sure my stitching was stable enough."

"So you can wear it again?"

"Yeah, for a competition. The whole point of dressing like this is to compete with other cosplayers."

"Ohhh, so that's what you were doing!" Childe pitched in, seemingly giving up with his one-sided fight.

"These competitions you speak of," Sandrone coughed into her hand politely, gaining attention. "Do many compete?"

"Yes. You can dress up as whoever you like. I decided to dress up as the Raiden Shogun because she's beautiful. Also she's popular among competitors to cosplay as, so I like the amount of competition I get by dressing up as her."

"Interesting..." Pantalone mumbled. "And these clothes are expensive, no?"

"Definitely. They can cost over a hundred if you get the entire outfit - and I'm talking about the cheaper lower-quality ones. As for me, I buy the raw materials and sew the outfits myself."

"You... made this?" Signora gaped in awe, stepping closer and feeling the fabric.

"Yes, it has potential. Have you tried clothes which aren't Inazuman?"

"Of course, I dress up as all kinds of people. I'm currently working on Navia from Fontaine. She's--"

"The President of the Spina di Rosula." Arlecchino finished for you, sipping her cup of tea. "The children stationed in Fontaine told me."

"Right, Lyney and his siblings. Yes, I remember them."

"Hm? You know of them?"

"Something like that." You laughed nervously, creeping towards the stairs.

Let's not tell her they're framed for a murder trial and almost get wrongfully convicted...

"Anyway, I'm going to get changed as per request by Scarawoosy. I'll be upstairs, and may not come down. So uh, yeah. Have fun with whatever you wanted me to do before."

You quickly ran off after that, hearing Scaramouche's shouts for you to grovel growing fainter.

"You're just going to let them run off like that?" Scaramouche looked around him, only questioning the others when feeling Capitano's heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Not necessarily." Pulcinella walked into the room, his cane supporting his slow movements. "It's an admirable skill to have, wouldn't you think so, Dottore? I'm aware you have a similar skill."

"Indeed." Dottore contemplated his words. "Although, it was only because we've lived for hundreds of years did we realise they were pretending to be the Electro Archon."

"Do not put me in the same league as Tartaglia." Arlecchino swirled her cup with a teaspoon. "I could easily tell they were pretending."

"No, you didn't see them." Childe argued. "The second I entered their room, they switched personalities and aura's quickly. Not to mention they agreed to fight me when we all know how much they hate any talk of that kind."

"So they're good onstage." Sandrone grinned to herself. "Perhaps if we asked too much of them regarding their ability they'd crack under pressure. It's certainly not perfection, but it's a close start I suppose."

"I'm very intrigued." Columbina announced, being strangely silent throughout the entire confrontation. "Although Childe is younger compared to us, we shouldn't doubt his words. He was named a Harbinger for a reason, maybe they were very convincing?"

"Ugh, out of all the people to defend me of course it's you." Childe shuddered slightly, staying quiet when noticing her intense gaze.

"My point is, we should test them and find out which people they specialise in. Heheh, I'm more focused on the amount and range of people they have in their wardrobe."

"You put forth a good point." Capitano nodded in agreeance. "Although, do you believe they perhaps have some outfits of us?"

"They better not." Scaramouche stated, walking back to the seat he once sat in moments ago. "If they had my outfit, I'd rip their hardwork to shreds." And perhaps, he'd give you the real outfit instead... after all, you still need a punishment for going behind his back and choosing her of all people to present yourself as.

"Well, if they had my dress I wouldn't be opposed. They'd finally be worthy of looking at in the eyes if so." Signora grinned wickedly.

"I want to see what else they have up there." She announced before also walking up the stairs.

"Wait for me!" Columbina giggled, running after her. "If they have my outfit, they have to put it on right away!"

"I better follow them, you know how those women get when intrigued. Besides, it will give me the opportunity to look inside their room." Pantalone pocketed his coins before also walking up the stairs, much calmer than the woman before him.

"Rooster, where is the Jester?" Sandrone spitefully asked him, a slight sickeningly amused tone in her voice.

"Working, as usual. He often tells me 'when we get back', but at this point that day might never come."

"It will come." Dottore silently warned him. "Despite what you've seen me do during the day, at night I work on a plan for the machine back. It would be oh so helpful if The Decider could help me, but why would they help me when that's practically planning their own death?"

"So, it will take longer without their help?" Capitano questioned him.

"Correct."

"Well then," Sandrone had an incredulous look on her face, not believing the stupidity of the men around her. "Why don't we just force them to help?"

"So we're not playing the 'nice guest' role anymore?" Scaramouche laughed, a laugh almost escaping his lips.

"No. I would say we can't afford that anymore." Pulcinella secretly winced, feeling his bones grow shakier every minute.

Extra:

I honestly see a Y/N who would keep up their cosplay hobby during captivity using it as a way to escape. They would dress up as other characters and imagine themselves to be them as they're not being held captive.

The Harbingers would also use this skill of yours on their enemies as bait. They'd have to assess and train you how to act like them, but eventually you'd be a spitting image of them and be the perfect trap for luring in potential assassins. Don't worry, they'd never let them actually hurt you. They've most likely shot the enemy down before you even realise the threat has turned violent.

Scaramouche, if he had no feelings for you, would definitely use the Raiden Cosplay against you. I feel he would tell you and lash out at you whilst saying everything he's always wanted her to hear but never heard him out for. It sucks for you, but it's a good stress-manager for him. As long as you play the part correctly, he won't get physically violent. Play the part poorly, and expect to become the punching-bag instead. In the little oneshot, Y/N is quite lucky it ended where it did. They should try to avoid dressing up as Archons going forward though.

[transmcytshowdown]

Mumbo Jumbo:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Last Life, Secret Life, Wild Life

Headcanons: Nonbinary, he/him

Propaganda: “[The submitter] think[s] trans Mumbo would be funny. Vote for him.”

“Guys. Guys. Mumbo Jumbo being a pathetic trans nonbinary he/they masc presenting guy. Being so proud of his moustache that he spends so long styling it every day. Wearing a suit everyday because it gives them the gender euphoria when wearing something so stereotypically 'masc'.”

Graaavel:

Submitted for: Exposure Craft

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/him

Propaganda: Is transmasc irl

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

[hom3landr]

homelander + bear hugs? 🥹

Apple Pie

A short interlude between Homelander and his favorite baker.

1 2 3

Homelander fights the urge to throttle Ashley as she follows behind him like an anxious chihuahua, yapping some nonsense about some Gala he’s contracted to show up to this evening. He can’t even remember what it’s for, just that it's more of Vought sucking its own dick while he endures hours of buttering up senators and shooting bright smiles at the ever present cameras. He’d been excited at first because he thought you might be there. He could just escape to whatever sad corner you would be working in if it all got to be too much. Except you won’t be there because someone approved your request for time off. He shoots Ashley a sideways glare.

The leather of his gloves creak as he clenches his fist. You won’t be back to work again until Monday and it is still only Friday. You’ve already been gone since last Monday. It’s driving him insane. The two of you don’t even get the chance to talk everyday normally but knowing that you won’t be there if he needs you… It makes him feel itchy and out of sorts. He misses you.

He’s so close to snapping as Ashley prattles on but the rapid sound of running footsteps has his brow wrinkling. His heart flutters in his chest as a familiar scent wafts through the hallway. It can’t be…

He turns.

Eager arms wrap around his neck, warm and soft and so so so incredibly close.

He doesn’t notice Ashley scurry off out of sight. He doesn’t notice much of anything other than you. He’s vaguely aware that he’s in a public hallway and that anyone could turn the corner and witness this. He frankly doesn’t give a shit.

He’s never been this close to you before. He can see every freckle, every pore, every imperfection and blemish. He doesn’t concern himself with any of that. As far as he is concerned, you’re the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. He’s holding you tight around the waist, your legs dangling, heartbeat pressed against his. Your chapstick smells like warm apple pie.

It’s like he manifested you from thin air by sheer wanting. Perfect. Soft. You.

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you beam at him. He spins you around just so he can hear you giggle. He’s pathetic. He’s pathetic and whipped and fuck…He can’t fucking think when you look at him like that.

“Surprise!” You grin.

“It certainly is.” His answering smile is blinding.

He commits every inch of you to memory. You’re not wearing your typical work clothes, instead you’re in shorts and a top with straps so thin that it wouldn’t take any effort for him to grab one and tug it apart. The previously hidden expanse of deliciously smelling skin has his mouth watering.

He should put you down. He should.

But you aren’t pulling away or wiggling around. You seem perfectly content to be held in his arms, fingers shyly brushing the nape of his neck. He doesn’t know why you’re back early. He doesn’t care.

“I wanted to bring you something from my trip.” You respond shyly.

“Aren’t I the lucky one?” He winks and there it is. He’s flustered you. He loves flustering you.

He feels himself beginning to harden in his suit and it takes a second to realize that you’re pressed so closely that it won’t be long before you’ll be feeling it too. It’s so tempting to stay just like this. He wants you to feel what you do to him. He needs you to know that he wants you too.

But the timing and setting isn’t right. So with a burdened sigh, he lets you go. He laments the loss of you against him. So he reaches out to lay a steadying hand on your shoulder, although he handled you so carefully that you felt no jostling at all. The contrast between the crimson of his glove and your soft skin only serves to fuel the fire burning inside him. His suit is becoming uncomfortably tight but he’ll have to take care of that later.

“So I went back and visited my home town. Every year they have this HUGE baking contest. I’d always wanted to do it but I never had the confidence,” Your words are spilling out like water from a jug. You’re talking way too fast but you’re too cute for him to interrupt, especially when your hands start getting involved too as you gesture. “Well this time I did it! I entered my chocolate cake recipe, the one you helped me with. Guess what!!!”

You pull something out of your back pocket and happily show it off. You’re bouncing on your heels as his eyebrows wrinkle in slight confusion. You’re holding out a cheap blue ribbon. The fabric is polyester and one of the tails is already starting to fray. The plaque is flimsy plastic with a bold #1 printed on it. But you’re looking at it as though it was made of silk and gold. You gesture for him to take it and he does, regretfully removing his hand from you.

“I couldn’t have done it without you! So I wanted you to have the ribbon. Since we both kinda won it. I don’t want to take all the credit.” You beamed.

You… You came all the way back to the Tower when you still had time off to give him a shitty ribbon? He appreciates the gesture even while he looks at it with barely veiled disdain. What he really enjoys is your words. They were absolutely correct of course. Your old recipe was a stinker. He doubted you’d have even gotten an honorable mention without his impeccable palate helping you. But the real gift you brought him wasn’t the ugly ribbon. He’d just wanted to see you.

It wasn’t until later, after you’d had to leave, that he truly appreciated the ugly little ribbon. He ran it through his fingers as he lay naked in bed. It was cheap but it meant something.

We both won it.

He sits straight up as a realization hits him. He remembers painfully that stupid fake house they’d made for his fake childhood. How his bedroom had been so infuriatingly “perfect.” He remembered how much it hurt to talk about all the trophies he’d won. Well…

He looks down at the ribbon in his hands. It looked exactly like that fake shit they’d put in his room. Except this was real. He’d won this. You’d told him so. It was his, ugly as it was.

He clears off the table next to his bed, just to make a little spot for his new trophy.

#1

Yeah he fucking was.

[caitchercatlady]

The Promise of Forever

-2nd Year Version

Inspiration song: Thinking Out Loud-Ed Sheeran

Riddle Rosehearts

"(Y/N), these six months...nay, eight months I've been away from you have been utter torment. Yes, even with the "Adeuce vacation perks." Nevertheless, I've thought long about how and who I would spend the rest of my life. I thought I would have the scripted words for this night. The truth is...I lost them. Because those words I made were for myself and any person. You are not any person, (Y/N). You are the teapot to my mouse. You are the paint that makes the roses of this garden shine red as strawberry jam. Most importantly of all, you are my one and true Queen. There is no other individual in all of Twisted Wonderland whom I could ever fallen in love so hard. I will not waste another moment wondering. I must ask now. (Y/N), will you marry me?"

Ruggie Bucchi

"Look at this sunset. Isn't this view everything you always wanted? It took a little work, but we made it. (Snicker) Yes, we. No one person can make this happen by themselves. Hey, I"m still working on it. A dream business isn't built in a day...by oneself. Well, uh...I've been thinking...no, I've been wishing this for a long time. I made up my mind years ago. I'm sorry it took me so long. I wanted to make sure the ring was pefect. You deserve only the best and nothing less. Now, I don't knonw if I'm the best for everything, but I know this much: I love you, and you are my perfect half. Will you marry me, (Y/N)?"

Azul Ashengrotto

"(Chuckles) No, I didn't invite you here just to shower you with food and presents. I do that whenever you want. Yes, always. Well, about that...I've been drafting what may be the biggest of my life's work. (Y/N), you've played a bigger role in my life than anyone could ever imagine. For so long, I've hid behind strong gates, locked doors, and tall walls. You managed to break down every single one effortlessly, and much to my own surprise, I can't be mad about that. I've needed a wake-up call, and while it was hard to look at myself i the mirror, with you in it, it becomes easier everyday. You were the sun I've been striving to reach for all my life, (Y/N). Without you, my days will only become dark. My sunlight, my pearl, my angel fish. Will you take this ring and become my partner...forever and always?"

Jade Leech

"How could you not be more stunning than the moon? If I always tell you something, it means I mean it. And I will continue to remind you of it. For how long? As long as you'll have me. What do I mean with this ring? I was hoping you'd know. (Chuckles) I'm jesting, (Y/N). I've spent many moonlit nights, working for this day. From the moment I saw your peak wit, I knew there was only one individual in this world who would fit the missing puzzle spot. May I have your wit forever, (Y/N)? We can be married by tomorrow if you so wish."

Floyd Leech

"Found ya, Shrimpy! Do I need you for anything? Nah. But I want ya. (Laughter) You're so straight-to-the-obvious. Of course, we've been dating for three years. I don't forget things like that. I mean, I want you forever, silly. Prove it? Ok then. My ma said that you'll fall head over fins for this. Yeah, it's pretty, but not like you. I'll let ya wear it if you say, "Yes.""

Kalim al Asim

"You made it! All of this? It's for you! Yeah, it's also for me. It's for us to enjoy. What's the occasion? I love you. That's the occasion. Of course, I love you everyday, but this night is very special. (Laugh) I don't love you more tonight...What I meant is I already love you forever i teh biggest way possible. Tonight, I wanna prove I'll love you forever. How will I do that? With this! I picked it myself. My dad gave Mom a lot of rings to show how much he loves her. She let me look at her collection and pick a ring for you. I chose this one because it reminds me of hte day I fell in love with you. Ever since that day, my love for you hasn't changed, and it never will. Please, (Y/N), please, please, please marry me!"

Jamil Viper

"Good evening. The moon is quite bright, isn't it? It reminds me of your smile. Yes, there was a reason I wanted to see you here. I've been wondering how to begin. You have me at a loss for words during every important moment, and when I wonder why, I believe the answer is that you resemble the unexpected. I thought my life had been planned out for me since my birth, but you proved that I can choose where I go in my life. Tonight, I'm chooing my path again, and there is no question who I choose to walk it with. Will you join my life, (Y/N)? For how long? Forever, I wish. I wish it with all of my heart."

Silver

"Yes, graduation is upon me, and it has arrived too fast. It's not that I'm not ready. I've never been more ready to enter the world as a full mage. I'm just not ready to leave my life behind as I venture forward. I mean you. I know you're only a class year below mine, but I cannot wait a year to tell you how much I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Yes, I will ask you now while my chances are ripe. Please, will you be my partner forever? Will you marry me?"

[radfemverity]

So I made this meme but then gave it some more thought. I don't in any way want to understate the severity in social pressure that exists for women and girls to conform to hyperfeminine beauty standards, or sexualise themselves. I don't want to be someone who pretends it's so easy to drop beauty standards. For some women, for example those in poverty, with jobs where they face punishment for noncompliance (I've heard instances of waitresses being told off by their senior managers for not wearing. makeup and heels), and they don't want to risk being unable to pay the bills at the end of the month, it is not simple, at least not in their present situation.

However, this isn't about them. This is about the self-admittedly miserable women white collar office staff, minimum wage fast food staff, housewives, etc, who have created an entire genre of TikToks and Instagram reels where they make comedy out of their own misery by conforming to beauty standards.

The beautician who gloats that she cannot keep up with the beauty standards of her own job, and the industry she upholds, such as being hairless utterly everywhere, all day everyday, even though pubic hair grows back and becomes visible within 24 hours of shaving yet remains too short to remove.

The college student who laughs about how waking up at 6AM to put on a full face of makeup, in the baddie Instaglam style that she would pass as a Kardashian in, but it's worth the sleep deprivation because god forbid a 19 year old woman leave the house bare faced.

The family vlogger and housewife who complains that shaving her body from head to toe while standing up in the shower for 45 minutes makes her dizzy and faint, yet she does it three times a week.

The 30 year old social media influencer who thinks she's getting old, and makes jokes out of how painful her quarterly botox is and how it causes her migraines, but copes with ‘well beauty hurts. Nothing in life is worth doing if it's easy! No pain, no gain!’

There is only so far you can go with this, and only so much you can participate in the mass-grooming campaign to coach other women and girls into this extreme beauty culture, before you're no longer just a victim but also a perpetrator.

There are 14 year old girls who now want breast implants, liposuction, buccal fat removal, jawline reconstruction and hip injections. There are 11 year olds who use Al to beautify their faces on TikTok so they look like a Bratz Doll with Kylie Jenner's fish lips. There are 20-35 year old women who worry they're ‘past it’ because the women they follow on Instagram are promoting botox to them, when they're only 20-35 themselves.

There are women of colour so insecure about their natural nose shapes that they're convinced by rhinoplasty specialists with TikToks and Instagrams to spend thousands on ridding themselves of the curved, wider noses that were passed down to them by their ancestors, and replace it with the same tiny button nose that every other rhinoplasty customer gets.

That NPC meme is about the women who have become keen participants in the patriarchal norms of making other younger women feel like they cannot leave the house in their natural state, echoing the unspoken sentiment that older women are worthless, and - worst of all - they're making out like misogynistic beauty standards are this unavoidable chore that all those born female must go through - that it is an inevitable part of womanhood that we should all get together, bond over, and laugh about… without proposing any actual viable solutions.

And if any women proposes viable solutions, such as decentering the male gaze, collectivising, or valuing our intellect over our looks, we get chastised with the common vacuous choice liberalism of ‘wow you're being so judgmental/mean/intolerant', 'you're invalidating my choice', ‘but why does the way I live my life affect you?' and 'what happened to women supporting women?'

And then five minutes later... ‘God it’s so hard being a woman. To have to shave daily and alter our bodies to appease society.‘

Well no, actually, no that is not some sort of inevitable part of womanhood.

And the women further normalising, making comedy out of, and stigmatising noncompliance to what they themselves literally acknowledge is a miserable existence, need to be held to account. Womanhood is not a social club where we all trauma bond over the ‘inevitability’ of moulding ourselves into beauty dolls.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Perfect Score - Chapter 1 - Ice Cold | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: The opportunity of a lifetime presents itself | Word Count: 5.8k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: language, mentions of injury

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Welcome to A Perfect Score, I hope you like the first chapter! It's a lot of set-up here but I am hoping it's not too boring.

Comments, reblogs & likes are always appreciated in this household. I love u 😚

Halting in the middle of the rink, you lean down, tugging the strings of your skates back through their holes even tighter. Damn things are always too big. You make a mental note to text Rhaenys later to get rid of them and invest in some more that actually fit well enough to practise in.

The sound of blades tearing through the ice is beginning to grate now, so you think it’s been long enough. You’ve been practising perfecting the Fankick to Illusion move for at least an hour now and your thighs are starting to scream for reprieve.

Another lesson you feel you’ve learned over the years is to listen to your body when it needs rest. Pushing yourself so hard in the past has never turned out with good results. So now all you can think about is going home, icing your muscles and eating something a bit gratifying, even if it means cheating on your strict diet.

It’s only when you stand up that you realise your core kills, and you wince slightly once you push yourself on your skates towards the edge of the rink.

And as if it couldn’t possibly get worse, a wide-stupid grin is plastered all over Jace Velaryon’s face as he skates up to you. His wild curly brown hair is sat unruly at chin length, and he wears entirely grey sportswear, paired with black skates.

“Fancy seeing you here” he muses, as he circles you on the ice.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Actually I was just leaving”

Jace feigns disappointment, his lips turning down into a playful child-like frown, “Shame. Was hoping we could practise together”

You huff, skating backwards away from him, “In your dreams, Velaryon”

“Your loss!”

"You not pestered Luke to get into it then?" You call, amused.

Jace rolls his brown eyes in the back of his head, almost losing balance as he does, "Nah, he's terrified. Won't come near it!"

"Shame, it'd be like watching Bambi-On-Ice" you joke with a grin. He pulls a fake-amused expression, sticking two fingers up at you in retaliation before skating off himself.

You swivel round on the ice, to be greeted with a bright, smiling face as Ellyn Baratheon waits there at the side-lines waving at you.

“Hey El” you say, all puffed out as you walk on your skates to the nearest bench, your muscles screaming now that you’re off your feet.

She smirks, raising an eyebrow, “Jace trying to chat you up again?”

“Trying for sure”

Ellyn hands you a hand towel which you take graciously to dab the back of your neck, “I don’t know how you do this everyday” she says, shaking her head, “Floris not here?”

“No, I haven’t seen her” you shrug, “Why are you here anyway. You Joe Goldberg-ing me?” you smirk at her, undoing the laces to your skates and rubbing the sensitive skin at the ankle.

Ellyn raised her eyebrows, flicking her dark hair over her shoulder, “It’s hardly Joe Goldberg-ing when I know you, idiot” she jokes.

Taking a long sip from your water bottle, you furrow your brows, “What’s up with you? It’s not like you to be worrying after Floris”

“No it’s not that” she argues, “Dad said she was having a tough time with training and I thought she’d be here so…”

You shrug, “She’s not come to train here in ages”

Ellyn hums looking around, looking back at you with wide eyes, “Don’t look, but him in the stands, he's been staring at you the whole time I’ve been here and he totally just caught me looking”

“Well now I just have to look, don’t I?” you smirk, looking around her.

She is indeed right.

High in the stands, arms tightly behind his back, wearing a long dark green coat, is Otto Hightower. He has a stern face beneath the greying beard on his face, eyes constantly set into a frown. Once he sees he has been noticed, he pretends to observe the other skaters, but it’s blatantly obvious he was staring at you, and has been doing so for the past few weeks.

“Oh, him? He’s always here” you say to Ellyn, pulling a face, “Some sort of - I don’t know - talent scouting or something?”

Ellyn passes you your trainers, “Does he always stare like that?”

“Yeah but he’s harmless. It’s Lars, Larry…fuck I don’t remember his name, but it’s him you should feel weird about”

“Gods, yeah! Floris told me!” Ellyn gasps, looking around to make sure the guy isn’t around, “Is it true he was found in the women’s locker room?”

You nod, amused, tying up the laces to your shoes.

Ellyn chuckles, “Jesus, the stuff you guys put up with. Makes me glad I never got involved in this business” she gestures with her hands to the ice rink.

“Hm” you hum, “Anyway, are you going to take me out to eat or what”

She links arms with you, “Charming”

You spare a look over your shoulder at the man in the stands, who looks cagier by the second as he turns, eyes trained entirely on you and stalks off out of booths, his long coat brushing against the seats. He walks away with a purpose only Hightowers seem to possess.

Ellyn, in her true Baratheon nature, takes you to Storm’s End, a popular brunch spot that sells cocktails in the early afternoon. Partly because she genuinely enjoys the food, but also because her dad owns the place. Suppose special treatment works sometimes.

Also in her true nature, she orders two mimosas, indicating that even if it’s not your cheat day, sometimes you just have to live a little, she says. Ellyn harps on about a guy she’s been texting who she matched with on Tinder, who turned out to be a Class A twat when she found out that he’d also matched with every single one of her sisters and tried to chat them up as well.

But as much as she is trying to mask how concerned she is, you can see it. After being her flatmate for so long, it’s difficult to not see.

“Why are you so concerned about Floris?”

Ellyn sighs, “I don’t know. I know I shouldn’t. She’s an adult and she can take care of herself and all but she’s just being really secretive. I just don’t like thinking that she’s keeping her troubles to herself. Even Cass has no idea what’s going on and you know what she’s like”

Your eyes widen in agreement, biting back a grin.

“Control Freak”

“Control Freak”

You both say in unison with a giggle.

You stab at your lunch with your fork, “Well, if it makes you feel any better I’m in ‘the business’ and I don’t know what’s going on with her” you say, “I’m sure she’ll come around. Like you say, she’s a big girl”

“I just think with all these championships coming up, it’s going to her head”

You hum in agreement. But before you can say any more, both you and Ellyn stare at one another in shock when both of your phones light up at the same time, with different Caller IDs. Hers with ‘Dad’. And yours with ‘Rhaenys - Manager’.

Giving one another a weird look, Ellyn senses the urgency in hers and scrambles to her feet, urging her phone to her ear. You accept the call putting it to yours,

“Rhaenys?”

“Where are you right now?” she asks, urgency in her tone.

“Uh…Storm’s End, why?” you ask, “Has something happened?”

“Are you with anyone?”

“Yeah, Ellyn, but she’s on the phone to her Dad - Rhaenys, what’s going on?”

You hear her sigh over the phone, her usually calm demeanour is somewhat hurried.

“Floris has injured herself quite badly. A broken ankle. She won’t be able to compete in the Championships”

With the phone still pressed to your ear, you look up at Ellyn, who is practically tearing her hair out across the room, half-shouting nervously down the phone, receiving the same news as you are right now.

“How do you know this?”

“I have my ways”

“No but, why are you telling me this?”

Rhaenys sighs again and you feel the panic winding its way up your throat, sending every hair on edge. You’re annoyed and flustered in equal measure that you can’t see her face, and wished she would just tell you what the hell was going on.

“Otto Hightower has approached me, asking for you”

What. The. Fuck.

Okay, that’s not what you expected to hear.

“Otto Hightower. You’re kidding right?”

“I wish I was” she answers in a flat tone.

“Well - uh - why not Baela or Rhaena?”

“He doesn’t want them, they only do Singles. Now that Floris is injured they need another skater to join their team”

Your mind feels like it's whirring a million miles an hour.

“Wait, Otto Hightower wants me for Pair Skating?” you ask, confused, “Rhaenys I’ve never done Pairs either!”

“You think I don’t know that!” she retorts, her volume increasing and cracking down the phone, “If Otto wants you, you have a shot at going to the Olympics. With the Targaryens”

The Targaryens.

A figure skating family powerhouse. Combined with the Hightower management, they’re quite the force to be reckoned with. You’d heard of them, being involved in figure skating for most of your life, as they always represented the Crownlands, but they were like a myth, only spoken about but never seen. And as well as that, they’re steeped in layers of controversy. It’s the only thing that is ever so slightly colouring your judgement.

“Rhaenys, I don’t know about this…I’ve got Ellyn right here-”

“There’s a schmoozing event tomorrow night. They’ll all be there. Just go and see how you feel and then we can talk about it, okay?” she offers, her tone more gentle now, “At least give it a chance”

Your gaze is brought back to Ellyn, who looks significantly less stressed out than a moment ago, but still with the phone pressed hard to her ear, talking under her breath. You swallow anxiously and wonder how Ellyn would take it if you so quickly snapped up the opportunity that was presented only because her sister was injured. It feels like the room is spinning, with no sign of stopping and the feeling is making the blood in your veins feel like jelly.

The Olympics.

Was there really a chance that could ever happen?

With a strained, quiet voice, you finally speak, “I’ll think about it”

Rhaenys makes a noise down the phone like the tension is leaving her body, “I’ll text you the details”

As quickly as either of you are able, you accompany her to the hospital to see Floris. And when you see her, it takes every ounce of self-control inside you when Floris shows a photo of her injury not to outright gag. Rhaenys wasn’t fucking kidding, broken ankle your arse. It was facing in the most unnatural direction. Whatever move she was trying to do clearly had gone buttfuck wrong and all her weight had completely snapped her foot.

You manage to sneak in some snacks for her, before leaving Ellyn alone with her to chat amongst themselves while the rest of the Baratheons arrive.

It leaves you to think finally, in quiet, in the comfort of your flat with the kettle boiling softly about what Rhaenys had suggested.

It could never have happened on your own. The Targaryens were well known in the Figure Skating industry, and not always necessarily for the right reasons.

You were too young to remember fully, but after becoming a skater, you began to hear rumours of Alicent Hightower. Some in judgement and some in sympathy. Even the details, you couldn’t tell if they were biased or not.

Alicent Hightower was a brilliant figure skater. The Sweetheart of Oldtown, they called her. She was graceful, professional and had all the makings of being Olympics worthy. And she was only in her early twenties when she did make it, although that didn’t come without the berating and hounding of her father, Otto Hightower, who was and still is her manager, except now he manages her Targaryen children as well. It was always in the press, Otto would be caught berating Alicent in restaurants and outside of championships, he was so desperate for his daughter to make it big. You count the blessings and thank the gods that your parents were never like that.

When she did make it to the Olympics, it had come out that she was having a secret relationship with a judge on the panel, Viserys Targaryen, without disclosing it. In the conflict of interest, and when she was found to be pregnant, she was disqualified and banned from competing professionally altogether. It devastated her noticeably, as the press loved to point out, shoving their cameras in her face wherever she went.

Something about it had always rung tragic to you though. She was only in her early twenties, and Viserys was much older and had already been widowed, with a child around the same age as Alicent as well. A fact you couldn’t help but find gross now that you’re older. But not only that, Viserys was extremely close with Otto, and the whole ordeal reeked of his involvement. An act that in the end, destroyed her career.

The controversy lasted years, as Viserys was also fired from his job on the board, but with his severance he was at least able to raise the family he’d made with Alicent, going on to have a further three children with her. And you didn’t doubt that she was probably happy now, with her four children all grown, but there was something about the entire thing that made you incredibly sad for her.

Ping.

Your phone screen lights up just as you pop some leftover pasta into the microwave.

Jace was always sweet. You’d known him a while and he always seemingly had a thing for you, something he desperately cannot keep to himself even if he tried. He’d even asked you on a few dates, once upon a time, but you’d always said you see him as a friend. And gods, you felt like a bitch but you couldn't help how you felt. He was sweet, but a bit too sweet. Like brother sweet. And it would just be too weird.

That didn’t stop him from shooting his shot though.

You hear the jingle of keys as Ellyn shuffles through the door, sinking into the sofa with a sigh having been on her feet all day. She doesn't need to ask for a drink, you already have two mugs ready.

"Pasta?" You ask,

"Nah, I'm good, thanks. Dad took us out"

“How is she?” you ask after a beat, pulling the pasta out and dishing it up for yourself, leaning against the counter.

“Fine, but devastated, obviously” Ellyn sighs, grabbing a mug of tea you’d made for her, “she was looking forward to the Championships”

“I bet she was, bless her”

Ellyn furrows her brows, “She said she couldn’t tell me much…about anything”

You pull a face, “Why not?”

“She said she had to sign an NDA”

You scoff a laugh, "What the fuck? An NDA? Fucking hell, trust Otto to keep her quiet"

“Yeah well, she can’t tell anyone anything, not even her family” Ellyn tuts, burning her tongue slightly on her tea, “She told me Otto reached out to Rhaenys though”

Your face blanches and you look over at your flatmate, “Oh yeah?” you say shakily, “Yeah, um, Rhaenys called me at Storm’s End…telling me about Floris”

“She roping you into it?” she asks with a nod,

“Something like that”

Silence falls and the only sound is you tapping your fingers nervously on the bowl you're holding.

“I won’t do it”

Ellyn frowns, “Why?”

“Because I would feel shitty going for it knowing that it was literally going be Flor-ow!” she pinches your arm, “What was that for!”

“For being dumb” she says smirking, “listen I don’t care. Floris injured herself. It’s not like you’ve stolen her place or anything”

“That’s what it feels like though” you pout, rubbing the spot where she'd pinched you, "trim your fucking nails as well, that hurt"

She pinches you again, albeit not as hard “That’s for being dumb again” she says, “Listen, how many people get personally asked for? To compete in Championships. The Olympics!”

You sigh. Still not entirely convinced.

“Don’t give me that. If you want to do it then go for it. What reason do you have not to?" She asks, giving you a pleading look.

"I don't know! I have like imposters syndrome or something! I've never done Pairs, why does he want me?" You reason, stabbing a piece of penne, "The Targs are big, Ellyn. I'm not sure I'm ready for that…"

She scoffs, "Fuck me, who is?"

Your phone pings again with an email from Rhaenys, detailing the information for the schmoozing event tomorrow. You sigh as you read it.

"Who's that?"

"Rhaenys. Says there's an event tomorrow, the Targs will be there with Otto and she said if I wanted the opportunity I should go and meet them…" you explain, scrolling aimlessly through the details on your phone.

"Do it" Ellyn says, giving you a reassuring smile, "I'll hate you if you don't"

"Ok, ouch"

"Do it then!"

You pout, "But that means I have to shave my leeeegs…"

"I swear to all the gods, I will dump that penne pasta all over your dumb little head if you don't"

You'd laugh, if you didn't know Ellyn. But fortunately, you do, and you know she's deadly serious and absolutely would.

She puts on that pouty little look as well, sticking her bottom lip out, dangling her legs as she sits on the arm of the sofa.

You sigh, "Will you help me find a dress?"

She grins, clapping her hands excitedly, "Can I do your hair as well?"

Rhaenys wasn't kidding when she said it would be lavish.

The car will pick you up around 18:30. It's going to be a fairly formal dress event, but nothing too glitzy. Wear something sophisticated.

Yes ma'am.

As promised, Ellyn went the whole nine yards with helping you pick out a dress, deciding ultimately on a mid length black number with spaghetti straps, taking Rhaenys' advice and not wearing anything too much. That paired with heels and some gold accessories, and with Ellyn having done your hair in waves, it looked entirely professional.

But knowing this didn't help your nerves.

You sat nervously in the back of the car the entire time bouncing one leg, feeling the hot whips of panic at the back of your neck.

Am I overdressed? What if you can see my pantyline? What if I shit myself, I've not got a spare pair of underwear. Is this neckline too low? Will a nipple spill out?

"I know that look" Rhaenys' smooth voice snaps you out of your panic, "You won't be convincing anyone when you look like a slapped arse" she grins.

Rhaenys looks gorgeous as always, dressed in a beautiful sea blue with mesh at the top. Her hair is perfectly braided back without a single strand where it shouldn't be. She's always so classy, it's disgusting really.

"Sorry" you sigh, "I'm nervous"

"The only thing we should be nervous about is if there is wine or not" she retorts with a smile, pulling out her compact to check her lipstick hasn't bled.

"When I was your age it was all different. No licking the proverbial arse, shall we say"

You furrow your brows, "I don't want to be thinking about arse licking in front of Otto Hightower, thank you"

Rhaenys laughs, wiping some lipstick from her lip line, "Just relax. I'll talk you through who is there and what they do"

The car stops and you gather your dress as you step out, looking at the grand looking building in front of you. Rhaenys shuts the door softly as she leads you up the stairs, her heels clicking with each purposeful step.

"You do look lovely tonight, I'm sure there's nothing to be nervous about" she says, looking lovingly down at you and brushing a waved lock of hair out your face.

"I don't look overdressed?"

She scoffs, "Trust me, they will be. They like to make an impression"

A member of staff greets you both at the entrance, slipping your coat off your shoulders to hang up, just as another descends upon you two to offer a glass of Prosecco, which you clutch nervously in your grip, following Rhaenys through the foyer to the function room at the back.

"It's not wine, but at least it's alcoholic" Rhaenys muses as she sips a little, wiping her lipstick mark off the rim after she's done.

The function room is wide and grand, decorated top to bottom with lights and decorations that reflect a glimmer off the large chandelier that hangs overbearingly in the middle of the room. There's a softened chatter that fills the space, a hushed one that you think only people of a certain status are able to converse in.

You scan the room briefly, amongst the sea of heads. Some you know as judges who attend the local competitions. Others who you scarcely recognise from TV, who hold high standing as managers of bigger figure skaters.

It screams old money, or just money in general. There's a large table, with a spread of small bites, as well as staff members going around with canopies and refills of beverages.

It's almost overwhelmingly nice. But stiff-backed, formal, without a hint of carefree nature.

Sounds like figure skating alright, you think, sipping your Prosecco anxiously.

You suddenly feel a chill on your bare arms and shoulders. Perhaps spaghetti straps weren't the best idea.

Rhaenys points her ring clad finger in the corner, "There he is. The man himself" she says, a bit of annoyance to her tone.

When you follow her finger, he's already looking at you. Otto Hightower. He's wearing a dark green suit, his tie perfectly underneath his stiffened collar. His eyes are trained between yourself and your manager, as if trying to figure out a puzzle he can't solve. He stands tall as well, towering over most people at the event.

He's talking to (or rather tolerating) none other than that creepy guy, whose name you barely remember. The one who has been caught on more than one occasion in the women's locker room. After realising Otto is no longer listening, his icy gaze also meets yours, his lips turning into an amused smile of sorts that sends a shiver down your spine.

You swear to all the gods you see his gaze flit to your feet. But you must be imagining it.

Otto crosses the room with purpose in long strides, with a self-assured smirk on his face that is visible beneath his beard.

Rhaenys already has her hand stretched when he takes it to politely kiss her knuckles, "Rhaenys. It has been too long" he greets in a quiet, rasp.

She smirks too, pulling her hand away, "Not long enough, I would say"

He at least has the decency to laugh at her 'joke'.

You feel small when he turns to you, taking your hand to do the same as he asks your name.

"A pleasure. Otto Hightower" he bows his head slightly.

I know who you are, you think. And I'm definitely not freaking out.

"Pleasure is all mine. It's very nice to meet you and thank you for inviting us" you reply, as calm as you are able. Rhaenys beams, as if to say you're doing well.

Otto nods, turning his attention to the other side of the room, where a young man with short-ish silver hair has accidentally broken his champagne flute. His brow seems to lower a little.

"Aegon!" He calls, making the young man snap his head up in surprise, shoving whatever he had in his hand into his mouth hurriedly.

Otto pats Aegon's shoulder as he stands next to him, giving the former a chance to excuse himself, but not before whispering something into his ear.

Aegon is tall, but not as tall as Otto, and his platinum hair is in a cropped choppy style above his shoulders. He's wearing such a dark shade of green, it's nearly black, his white shirt has several of the top buttons undone as well. He flashes his white teeth in a wide smile while his eyes roam over your shoulders, one hand coming to shake yours,

"Nice to meet you. I'm Aegon" he muses. You nod with a friendly smile, your gaze briefly caught by Rhaenys moving away and speaking in a hushed manner with Otto in a way that can only mean business.

"You look horrified" he grins, making you snap your gaze back at him, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

"Oh, do I?" You rub your neck, "it's just nerve-wracking I suppose"

"I don't blame you. We're not all scary when you get to know us"

You smile, slightly relieved at his casual nature, something you chalk up to him being a similar age, "You included?"

He shrugs, "I'm easy going. All this fluff annoys the fuck out of me"

"Inevitable, for the industry we're in" you smirk around the room, the bubbles dissolving on your tongue.

"In any case, I'm looking forward to working with you"

Aegon furrows his brows, confused, "Huh?"

Panic begins to gnaw at your gut, "Aren't we going to be doing Pairs?"

His smile returns, "Oh no! I do Pairs with my sister, Helaena. She's over there" he points out. The woman he's referring to is on the other side of the room, trying to catch a stray moth that had made its way inside. Her cream dress makes her look positively mythical, coupled with her platinum waves cascading down her back.

"Oh right, so…" you start, "...sorry, Otto mentioned me doing Pairs…"

Aegon pokes his cheek with his tongue, as if amused, "Oh yeah. You're going to be with Aemond. Unfortunately"

"Unfortunately?"

Aegon grins, in no attempt to hide his amusement by pressing the champagne flute in his hand to his lips and taking a large sip.

“My brother is complicated. He’s outside having a smoke, but don’t expect conversation”

You open your mouth to ask more, but Otto’s hand clamps over his shoulder, urging him back. Aegon smiles one last time, mouthing good luck. Rhaenys, now with a fresh drink in her fingers, raises her eyebrows at you.

“I’ve spoken with him” she starts, in a hushed tone, taking your arm and leading you to a quiet corner of the room, “He gave me his terms”

“And?” you ask expectantly.

“I gave him mine as well. He wanted you to be signed to his management, which means living in residence for the duration of your contract. They have facilities. A cook, a private rink for practise, a spare room for you-”

“What about El? I can’t just leave her high and dry without a flatmate”

Rhaenys waves the issue away, “I anticipated that, don’t worry. They will cover the cost of your room. You will also be doing Pairs with Aemond, not sure if it was mentioned to you before”

“No it wasn’t” you reply, almost annoyed. “So will Otto be my new manager?”

“Not exactly. He will be handling your competitions and training, but a certain percentage will still come to me, at my behest. I figured you wouldn’t want a change of hands entirely”

“You figured correct” you smirk at her, “What do you think?”

Rhaenys looks across the room, eyeing Otto, who is now speaking to a woman you can only see the back of. She had long wavy auburn hair tied loosely in a ponytail and wears a slim suit fitted perfectly to her figure.

“I think it’s a good opportunity. Everything is paid for and you’d be in with a good shot”

With your lips caught between your teeth in thought, you trace your finger over the rim of your glass, weighing up the options you’ve been presented with. You’re at least grateful that Rhaenys hasn’t just agreed blindly without asking you first. She is a good manager like that. Something you desperately don’t want to slip.

“Okay” you reply with a sigh, your chest deflating at making such a big life decision in such a short space of time, “I’ll do it”

Rhaenys squeezes your arm lovingly, her lips turning up into a smile, “I’ll confirm with him now then”

You watch as her blue gown billows as she walks away, taking another deep breath to ground yourself. Your skin seems to tingle with anticipation, maybe even excitement, wondering what training and residing alongside the Targaryens will mean. Not only that, but with none other than the Sweetheart of Oldtown herself. You wonder what she’s like in real life now, since she was forced away from the business all those years ago she’s kept herself quiet from the press.

Feeling utterly too hot and stuffy, you cross the room, out of the oak french doors that grace the back of the event, slipping out subtly while Rhaenys speaks to Otto once again, joining the chestnut-haired woman.

The chill of the early evening bites at your skin, but a welcome feeling once you press your back against the cool brick, having a moment’s reprieve from the crowds. You pull out your phone, thumbs working quickly to type a message to Ellyn.

Ping.

Um? What the hell is that supposed to mean?!

“You shouldn’t be out here”

You nearly drop your phone jumping out of your skin. The voice seems to come out of nowhere.

But the smell of cigarette smoke wafts into your face with the dull breeze and when the smoke clears, you see who you previously slipped right past, leaning on the other side of the french doors.

He’s tall. Taller than Otto it feels like. And though he hasn’t introduced himself, it isn’t difficult to guess who he is judging by the long platinum hair pulled back into a messy bun, the sharp features only Targaryens seem to possess and the half-hooded, almost annoyed stony stare. Unlike his brother and Otto, he is wearing entirely black, like he’s attending a funeral. His outfit is fitted perfectly, save for the one top button nestled beneath his tie that is left undone.

Aemond Targaryen.

He hasn’t even turned his head all the way to you, his two fingers coming up to his cigarette, pulling it away to blow the smoke from his pouty lips. He taps the ash to the side with his fingers, raising an aggravated eyebrow when you don’t reply.

You swallow nervously, tapping your fingernails on the glass you’re still holding, willing the dryness out of your throat. You’re not sure anyone would be able to deny, he’s handsome. And it’s unlike you to think any man is beautiful, but he is. He probably knows it as well, hence the annoyingly self-assured way he holds himself.

“Needed some air” is all you’re able to say in return, clicking your phone off.

Even as you turn away, in your periphery you see his tall form push off the wall and stride purposefully towards you. He stops just shy of you, holding out the cigarette he was smoking in his fingers as an offer to calm your nerves. Your blood feels icy when you look up at him, having to properly look all the way to even see him, and finally see the other side of his face.

An angry scar runs jagged through his skin, from his forehead to the middle of his cheek, right through his socket and eyebrow. It’s not quite red, but more a dull colour, probably with age. His left eye doesn’t quite look the same as his other, a slightly different shade of blue. Your gaze briefly flits between the two, taking in his features. He’s got such an angular face, it almost looks as if he’s been carved from stone and could be put on display in those fancy museums. But more than anything, something flutters in your belly at the thought of seeing him on the ice, with you.

Shaking your head, you reply softly, “No thanks. I quit”

He shrugs almost imperceptibly, bringing it back to his lips, turning away from you to blow the smoke into the wind. And for some reason, watching his neck flex, his fingers deftly holding the cigarette and his tall, broad stance, it makes your body go all warm.

He doesn’t look back at you when he says, “It’s a glass eye”

“What?”

His gaze flits down finally to you, “You were looking at my eye”

“I wasn’t”

“You were”

You lick your lips anxiously, hot embarrassment creeping in at the revelation you’d been caught admiring him. But Aemond doesn’t smile, he remains stony-faced and impassive.

“I wasn’t going to ask” you respond, crossing your arms, running your palms over your arms that have now erupted with goosebumps. From the chill of the wind or his presence, you’re not sure. Aemond huffs, as if he doesn’t believe you though.

He gestures inside with a kink of his head, “You should be in there. Making connections”

You furrow your brows, “I’m not interested in that”

An amused smile, similar to the one Aegon had done, makes his lips curl up slightly. Before now you weren’t able to see the resemblance.

“Hm, Sure you’re not” he muses, pushing the cigarette into the brick next to you to stub it out, “Let me guess. You just love to skate. Skating is your life and it’s all just a bit of fun?”

Your lips part in annoyance at his blatant rudeness and the fact he is so openly judging you before bothering to properly get to know you.

“You-”

“You’ll be eaten alive” he muses, with a lazy smirk, walking backwards a few paces, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, “I’m not sure you can handle it”

Before you can even say anything, he gives a low laugh, deep in his chest, as if he’s so pleased with himself at getting a reaction, before striding back inside, back into the hustle and bustle of the event inside.

Irritation eats at your insides. It’s clear he’s only said what he did to draw a reaction and he’d nearly fucking got one. And you’d be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t want to slap that stupid, self-assured look off his face when he expressed a kind of pride at talking down to you. As handsome as he is, a shitty personality paired with a nepo-baby attitude dulls the warmth in your gut.

I’m not sure you can handle it.

A shuddered, exasperated breath runs through your nose with the anger that builds inside.

“Fucking asshole”

I’ll show him.

Bold means I couldn't tag!

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dividers by @firefly-graphics

[googleitlol]

Aaah, I just thought of some cute headcanons that I figured would fit Wukong and Dove, and Macaque and Lian too!💖 Hope you like them!

For Wukong and Dove (for both LMK AU and Black Myth Wukong, and PoM:

1. Wukong sometimes falls asleep right next to Dove and uses her lap as a pillow, and even purrs whenever he gets into a deep sleep on her. Dove didn’t tell him about the purring the first few times because she thought it was adorable and didn’t want him to embarrassed.

2. Wukong’s tail is very sensitive, so he easily gets excited and flustered whenever Dove touches it, which she uses to her advantage on multiple occasions such as if she wants him to listen or simply tease him.

For Macaque and Lian:

1. Sometimes when Macaque performs his shadow puppet shows from his lantern or simply using his powers for Lian, she would rest her head against his shoulder with a fond smile while watching his plays. On most occasions, she would even fall asleep on him while Macaque stares down at her with the softest smile.

2. Part of the reason Macaque wears his glamour to hide his scarred eye in the present day is because up until seeing Lian again, he had hoped to run into her reincarnation and used his glamour to maintain his original appearance so she would recognize him, and worried that she would be frightened by his eye after what Wukong did in the past.

Omg these are all so cute–

For Wukong and Dove:

This is adorable, I can imagine her sitting against a tree while he naps with his head on her lap. Maybe after they deal with Red Boy (in Black Myth Au and Main story) and find their friends, they stop for the day to set up camp earlier since everyone is tired af and they all need some time to calm down a bit. Wukong is patched up from the fight but SUPER tired still, and then Dove lets him rest in her lap. After spending the whole night thinking he might've died, having him sleep on her made her feel better– being able to feel him confirmed he was safe. Omg and when he starts purring??? Yeah, she won't say anything, but that's a card she's keeping in her pocket. Y'know, if he ever gets any ideas about trying to embarrass her. After that, it becomes somewhat of a regular thing to find Wukong napping on her, and sometimes, you'll find her doing the same

Ohohoho, I LOVE this one. Once Dove realizes how sensitive his tail is, she is using that to her full advantage. Maybe she has something important to say about how to defeat a demon but Wukong and the others are all talking over one another, so she gets his attention with his tail while he's mid-sentence. He'd 100% forget whatever the hell he was saying the moment she trails a finger down his tail. Eyes wide, absolutely GAGGED. Oh, she'd have so much fun teasing him like that. But if she does it too much, he'll have to get her back in some way…

For Macaque and Lian:

THIS IS SO CUTE!!! This is something I'll touch on in flashbacks, but there was a point in time where Lian was bedridden for a while. She was stuck in her bed for weeks, and while she'd get occasional visits from the Brotherhood, Macaque was with her everyday. Wukong would pop in for a few minutes each morning, but Macaque was the one who'd spend hours with her there. So I could totally seeing him doing this around that time, keeping her entertained with his shadow plays while she recovered. GAH THIS IS SO CUTE

Awwww, my heart! I can definitely see this, how he'd always want to be ready. I also think he'd hide it because he lost her before he and Wukong had their falling out, it was just days before Wukong got sealed under the mountain. So if she did recognize him, he wouldn't want her to ask about how he lost his eye and what happened after she, well… Macaque doesn't even know what happened to her. I mean, he knows what, he just doesn't know how. Needless to say, he would definitely use that reasoning to keep his glamour on because on the chance he ever got to reunite with Li, he'd want things to go back to exactly how they were. Before he lost his fight with Wukong, and before he lost her. He just wants them to happy, like they used to be.

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Didn't Ask For This (part six)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

•○🌑○•

Y/n walked around her room, getting dressed as she thought about the previous night.

She had found her husband kissing someone else, then gone to a very noisy place and talked to a male, then bought back home by her husband, nearly died, yelled at her husband and then agreed to giving him a chance.

That was not at all what she had expected when she woke up the previous morning, but that now felt centuries ago.

There was a knock on her door, and when she opened it, she found Nesta bouncing on her heels and looking nervous. It gave Y/n a little fright, because Nesta was not one to be nervous.

Hell, she would probably look the Mother in the eye and judge her for making the world.

"Nesta, is everything alright?" Y/n spoke slowly.

Nesta nodded, taking a deep breath before speaking. "So, you know how we train everyday, like, with Cassian, Emerie, Gwyn, and all those priestesses?"

"Yes?" She drew out the word.

"So I would love... if you could join us."

Y/n blinked. "You want me to join you." Nesta nodded. "I don't know Nesta... I don't think that's a good idea."

"Then stop thinking."

"What?"

"You said you think it's a bad idea, so stop thinking." Y/n laughed, shaking her head.

"Is... is Azriel going to be there?" She questioned, because despite her having agreed to giving him a chance, she wanted to keep interactions with him minimal.

"Yes, but I can kick him out if you want."

"And how are you going to kick him out?"

"I'll probably order Cassian to throw him out. Or I'll kick him between his legs, so hard that he wouldn't be able to leave his bed for days. Then we can train in peace."

"Even though that would be a good way to get rid of him, I don't think I want anyone to get hurt. I'll come, but I want you to know that I haven't ever done anything like that in my whole life, so it will take time."

"That won't be problem. So you're coming?"

"Now?" Nesta nodded. Y/n sighed. "I guess i don't have anything else to do. I'll come."

Nesta squealed before becoming serious again. "Do you have anything other than dresses and gowns?" Y/n shook her head. "Hmm. I think you can wear mine. They would surely fit you."

Before Nesta could say or do anything else though, a bundle smacked her straight in the face. She grunted, catching the bundle before it could fall to the ground.

It was training clothes. Nesta scowled at the ceiling. "You couldn't have been a little gentle?"

In response, a wind that sounded like a laugh swept through the hallway.

Nesta handed the shirt and pants to Y/n, who closed the door and changed into them. They felt weird. She had only ever worn dresses and gowns, having no need of wearing pants and shirts.

When she stepped out, Nesta began tugging Y/n towards the training area, linking their arms.

Maybe Azriel wouldn't be there. Maybe he would have some other work to do.

Her prayers went unanswered. He was present.

As soon as she entered, their eyes met.

As the corners of his lips lifted in a small smile, she quickly looked away, towards the opposite end of the ring where Cassian was having a conversation with Gwyn and Emerie.

As Nesta led her towards them, Y/n looked at the other females present. By the looks of it, the training was hard.

Y/n wondered if she'd be dead by the end of the training session.

•○🌑○•

Y/n was dead. She was sure of it as she lay on the ground and stared at the sky.

Nesta's head appeared in Y/n's vision, grinning.

"Did you have fun?"

"Do I look like I had fun? I'm never doing this again."

"Oh shut up. It wasn't that bad. Just a few squats and lunges and planks."

"Not that bad? I feel like I'm dying, Nesta."

"What's the fun in it of you don't feel like that?"

"I hate you." Y/n muttered as she sat up, groaning at the pain in her body. Just then, a hand appeared in front of her and she glanced up.

Azriel smiled at her. "I could help..."

Without breaking eye contact, she stood up on her own and turned back to Nesta, who winked at her, grinning.

Nesta nodded towards the exit and started waking towards it. As Y/n started to follow her, Azriel caught her wrist, but let go when she looked at him. He swallowed.

"I thought you said you'd give me a chance."

"And?"

"You aren't– never mind." A pause. Then. "Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight? Just us."

She wanted to ask why, even though she knew the reason. Finally she sighed. "Fine."

He smiled. "Thank you. I'll be waiting."

•○🌑○•

Part 7

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