#forest officer appointments

[townpostin]

Azad Samaj Party and Bhim Army Protest SC Reservation Elimination in Jharkhand

Statewide protest against elimination of SC reservation in chowkidar recruitment and minimal representation in forest officer appointments. Azad Samaj Party and Bhim Army staged a statewide protest against the Jharkhand government’s decision to eliminate SC reservation in chowkidar recruitment and appoint only one SC candidate among 170 forest officers. JAMSHEDPUR – Azad Samaj Party and Bhim Army…

[hanasnx]

❝ incendium. ❞

── stephen glass x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 3.3k SUMMARY: when a lie snowballs out of stephen's control, you swoop in for unorthodox damage control. NOTES: sorry i posted with the wrong title at first | wrote most of this over a year ago, so the style is a bit different, but stick with it trust me | if you say "part two" in the comments, you better come into my inbox with an actual plot or idea that will fit this "au" WARNINGS: f!reader | editor-in-chief!reader | suggestive content including sex and porn mentions so no minors still cos i dont want them on my page ever | deceit | inappropriate contracts.

When you’re the Editor-in-Chief for the biggest magazine of the year, you’ll have a couple thousand rumors spread about you. You wouldn’t pretend that its source wasn’t jealousy that drove poor opinions of you to circle the sandbox. It’s child’s play really, the way sparks of lies catch ablaze to spread like a dry forest’s fire. You’ve always imagined the end of the world to begin and end with a great flood— it was a blue planet after all. With that comforting metaphor, a measly incendium left you unbothered. 

You didn’t have a free moment in your schedule, and it had been like that for months. Being in charge meant shouldering the work of the workers underneath you, and it often meant taking some home with you— work, not workers. Speaking of which, you’d wish you’d find somebody decent to take home. Unfortunately, a relationship really didn’t fit into your hectic calendar. 

It was nice to have a personal assistant. She took care of the unimportant things for you, while you got to work on time and started on your bulleted list in order of priority. Said assistant, Maddy, sat at a desk outside your office, and when she entered to drop off your coffee she picked up, you seized the opportunity to inquire her knowledge on number one on your list. 

Maddy hummed questioningly as you waited, blinking at her over your reading glasses. “Oh!” She clapped her hands together once her memory was jogged. “The New Republic ran something a little detrimental to our brand. Our CEO’s legal team reached out to me to ask you to handle it before they had to step in. The last thing they want is a lawsuit—“ she rambled on and you held up your hand, quieting her. Upturning your palm to invite her to hand you TNR’s piece that supposedly mentioned this company. 

Maddy read your mind, spryly collecting the paper to place in your possession. 

It took seconds for you to scan it, creasing your brows in response to its misinformation. Maddy studied your reaction to its error. For you, this was not a matter of opinion, it was a matter of fact, and required your addressment. 

“Get Chuck on the phone, I want his earliest appointment.”

STEPHEN GLASS moistened his lips as he furiously typed up his latest story, anxious to meet the deadline with a particularly difficult article. His coworker Caitlyn swung in by his door frame. “Yo, Steve, Amy and I wanted to head to the bar after work today. You free?” Caitlyn had figured out the best way to ask him if he wanted to hang out was to put as little pressure on it as possible. He reminded her of a chihuahua…consistently shaken. 

Stephen glanced her way but continued typing. “Yeah? Got it… maybe…” he drawled dreamily, and she concluded he wasn’t entirely listening. 

Inviting herself inside, she slumped into one of his cold, blue, faux leather chairs. “What are you working on anyway?” 

“The Gainsmen piece. I was supposed to have it done already but it got buried.” he responded, eyes glued to the screen as if hypnotized. His hand blindly fumbled for his pen off to the side, like a good friend Caitlyn leaned over to slide the utensil into his fingertips. He banged the end of it against the meat of his thigh, revealing the ink tip so he could scribble some sort of note on his pad, all without ripping his pupils off the growing lines on the monitor. His coworker had never seen him so… intense. To free up his other hand for efficient typing he tucked the staff of the pen in between his lips. 

Stephen had the power to make her worry for him. From what she observed, he was overworked, and spent more time here than he ever did at home when he should be resting. That reasoning eased her into her next question, “You want me to help?” 

A sudden shift in his demeanor, his full attention on her for the first time since she entered his office, raising his brows with a hopeful glint in his dilated pupils. He pinched the pen in his knuckles, balancing the end of it against the corner of his mouth. “Would you?” His disbelief was adorably naive, as if surprised he’d ever receive help… if he deserved it. A smile tugged at Cait’s lips when she nodded, parting them to respond when a slam of a door tore both of their attentions away. 

It was you, the notorious editor of their largest competitor. It had silenced the entire floor, quiet enough to hear your heels click on the thin carpet, and Stephen’s pen drop onto his keyboard. Cait glanced at him as he scrambled to catch it in a failed attempt to prevent its further clattering against the keys. 

Every pair of eyes was on you as you cut through the stations. Your mere presence froze those around you, as if afraid to do something wrong and offend you in some way. At least, some of them anyway. Stephen always thought it was because of how stunning you were. Bone-chillingly authoritative in stockings and a pencil skirt. Behind his glasses his pupils dilated as they scanned from bottom to top, watching you walk further from him through the glass of his office. He gulped, thoughtlessly leaning in his seat to consume every angle of you his limited view from his desk would allow. Caitlyn had faced him again just in time to catch him in the act, and he settled back into his chair as if he hadn’t moved at all. She resisted the urge to flash him a quizzical look as he sheepishly watched himself fiddle with his pen in his lap. 

You did not waver your gaze from your goal, and Chuck had been expecting you. He wore the warmest smile he could muster as he opened his door for you, a headache having come on from the call he received earlier, announcing your scheduled arrival. “Miss (l/n),” he greeted with a nod, and you returned the greeting as he closed the door behind you. The frosted windows left a lot to the imagination of the employees on this floor. Everyone wordlessly agreed to remain reticent in order to eavesdrop on any juicy tidbit they could claw their sleep-deprived hands onto. Not only that, but as if enslaved to their subconscious desires, they shifted closer, gravitating towards Chuck’s office, crudely concealing the way they inclined their ears. 

Stephen’s hands clammed up, and he dropped the pen in between his legs so he could wipe his palms on his pants. He had a feeling he knew what you were here for. 

The conversation inside was indecipherable to the surrounding throng, except for one fragment at the resolution, resounding through the room, causing prying eyes to desperately study your blurred figures in hopes to interpret what kind of violent gestures you punctuated your threat with. 

“I will not be trifled with. My magazine did not tank my first year, it was the year before I was brought on board.” Able to see your arm raise, clutching a fluttering page, and slam it down onto Chuck’s desk. “When I came on I saved that establishment. I’m sick of reading about how the last Editor’s fault was mine! I expected more from The New Republic.” You had straightened. “Let a simple fact like this go unchecked in the future and I’ll poach you. Understand?” 

It was impossible to tell whether or not you waited for Chuck’s response before storming out. Stephen still thought you were as elegant as ever, observing you as you strode to the exit. He had suspected why you were here, and what you said at Chuck’s had confirmed it. You had nipped Chuck for signing off on Stephen’s piece. His mouth ran dry when your gaze landed on him. You didn’t recognize him as the man who wrote what you had come to pontificate on. Instead, you saw a boy in glasses, gawking at you from the seat of his desk as you happened to face him and accidentally make eye contact. 

Stephen had no idea you didn’t know who he was, and that assumption caused him to raise his hand at you to offer you a polite smile and a wave. You acknowledged it to be proper, unfaltering in your traipse. Just as soon as you’d left, the floor reignited, bustling and trucking through paperwork as if you’d never appeared. 

Caitlyn, unaware of Stephen’s current situation, had stood from the chair, and leaned against the back of it as she collected her thoughts, narrowing her eyes at Stephen. “What was that?” she inquired slyly, curious as to why Stephen had greeted you so familiarly. According to Cait’s knowledge, you and Stephen have never formally met, and you weren’t exactly the most accessible person to befriend. Casually greeting you was simply not done, unless it was a peer like Chuck. 

Stephen had returned to his monitor, nervously tapping the pen against the desk surface as the gears in his head turned. “What? You mean the wave?” he affirmed with a smile tugging at his lips, about to tell her the truth of why he did it. 

When you re-entered his mind, he idled, reminiscing on your outfit today. How your hips swayed in your smart pencil skirt, the lines of your stockings at the backs of your legs, the tasteful blouse and how it accentuated your exquisite outline. As a writer, Stephen admired your professional work. As an artist, he agonizingly wished he knew you— inside and out. When Caitlyn demanded an answer, Stephen looked up at her with a bashful snicker. “I mean… okay, alright,” He clasped his hands together, reminding himself how sweaty they were. 

“Go on, Steph, I’m waiting,” Cait said in a playful tone, eager to hear the gossip she knew he would inevitably spill. Her favorite source of entertainment was Stephen: the human embodiment of the overflowing cup. 

He longed to do just that, hanging his head briefly before feigning defeat. “We kissed.” he conceded as if it was reluctantly drawn from him rather than readily supplied as soon as it was conjured. He didn’t know why he said that, it just slipped out.

“Hey, Stephen,” Amy peeked her head in, seemingly oblivious of the nature of the conversation he and Caitlyn just shared, evidenced by Amy’s immediate interest in Cait’s gaping mouth, readjusting against the door frame. “Wait, wait, what did you say? What did I miss?” 

Cait flashed a look at Stephen as if to ask permission to repeat what he’d just spread. Stephen merely smiled childishly, and pinched his fingers together at the corner of his mouth, running across his lips pretending to zip them. Caitlyn got the message, nodding, and mimicking him. 

Amy sighed in playful annoyance, which only caused the other two to grin knowingly. “Whatever. Stephen, Chuck wants to see you in his office.” 

One more quizzical look from Cait, and he reassured her, “It’s probably nothing,” He met Amy’s gaze, “Tell him I’ll be right there, Ames.” 

We kissed. He’d said. We kissed. A lie he couldn’t stop pondering, and it snowballed into expansion. At first it was an innocent kiss, as virtuous as a young white flower. When it was received with such shock and entertainment, Stephen couldn’t help himself. A kiss became a heated make-out session at a company Christmas party he snuck into. A make-out became a regular occurrence when you just couldn’t stay away from him. A regular occurrence became seeing each other. Became experimental oral. 

All until it became dirty fucking on the side using your power as an Editor over him. “What am I gonna do? Say ‘no’ to her? No,” Stephen shook his head and sipped his Colombian coffee from the slit in its lid. “No,” he swallowed, “not to an Editor-in-Chief.” His regaling earned him pats on the back and laughter from those taking it as a joke. No one thought he was in any real danger. It’s not like he worked underneath her— in an employment stance. 

He couldn’t give it up. Cooking was one thing, but earning the respect of those around all because a woman made of ice was supposedly wrapped around his finger was another high entirely. One he couldn’t give up, no matter how immoral. He admired you— immeasurably— and still he let those words run out of his mouth faster than he could stuff them back in. Filthy secrets about what you’re like in bed, how rough you like it, what position is your favorite. It’s not like he could reveal those details without unveiling a little of himself and his fantasies as well. 

He never expected that it’d turn out like this. 

Never expected he’d be summoned to your office. 

“Miss—“ Maddy’s clear voice rings in your ear, interrupting you during your process of scratching your notes into the margin of the text. 

You sigh. “Madeline, if you’re here about Frank’s paternal leave again I’ll be forced to fire that baby myself.” 

She stutters, caught off guard by your sour attitude and poorly-timed joke. “No, Miss, I’m here to announce Mr. Glass’s arrival. I made him wait a few minutes- like you asked.” 

You peer up from your work at Maddy who’s in a straight-and-narrow posture by the door as you gesture incredulously with your hand. “Go ahead, send him in.” She nods, and hastily abides by your notion, fetching him. 

This time you don’t redirect your eyes from your thick pile of papers as you annotate, the nervous footsteps of your anticipated company echoing through your cavernous office. He follows the rug across the long pathway to the chair in front of your desk, taking a seat, and the leather creaks against itself. 

He takes notice of your strategic reticence. “Hi.” his wavering voice is a near whisper. Your script comes to a screeching halt. 

“Mr. Glass,” you reply, “you are a man-in-demand, aren’t you?” You swipe a page to the left, noting at the top right to bookmark it. 

Sheepish, Stephen stutters in his response, lips curled politely up, “I- I suppose so. I suppose I wouldn’t know.” To keep him nervous, you hum, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Every movement, no matter how minute, creates the leather din that damn-near echoes in your resonate office-space. He waits for you to speak, and when it becomes unbearable he fills the silence. “Is this about your talk with Chuck– er, Charles Lane? Because- about that, if you just listen–” 

At that, your eyes finally flicker up to meet his. “No, Mr. Glass, it is not.” He swallows. It’s becoming increasingly clear why you’re known as cold. It’s an unforgivable atmosphere, and a shiver runs up his spine powerful enough that he takes his hand to rub his own arm to generate warmth. You stand, and he presses his lips into a thin line, watching your every move as you gracefully close the script on your desk with a rare finesse. “You’ve brought a lot of attention to my door, you know that?” Strategically, Stephen remains silent as you leisurely round your desk. His hands begin to clam up again, and he rubs them on his thighs as he stares hard at his lap. A whole new level of intimidation has been reached being this close to you at the center of your focus. He’s unsure how to play this right now, and he finally registers your proximity when out of the corner of his eye he sees you sit on the edge of your desk adjacent to him. Your smooth legs are crossed within arm’s length of him. You fold your arms over your chest, your unwavering gaze making him feel smaller and smaller. Regardless of that, you can tell he’s not going to break. So you increase the pressure. “Have we met before?”

Big, innocent eyes peer up at you, hesitant to face you as he shakes his head marginally. The instinct to question if you’re mad at him dies in his throat. “No, ma’am.” The panic rises in his chest now that he’s denied having met you aloud, but you can’t possibly know about the lies he’s told, can’t prove he told them. Yet when he meets that piercing gaze, there’s a part of him that wants to come clean to you about everything if it means pleasing you. Though there is his job to think about, what would people say about a writer who lies about sexual encounters with the company’s competitor? It can’t be good.

“Is that a fact?” You raise your brows at him, and he nods slowly. “So, can you tell me why others have a different perception on that?”

He shakes his head.

“Mr. Glass, as frustrating as this all has become, you’re not here so I can berate you.” you concede, and at those words he visibly perks up. You reach over, plucking a folder from across your desk that stretches your body out in a specific way that rides your skirt up. Before he knows it, he’s sneaking a glance at the exposed skin of your thigh, how the flesh pushes together. The promiscuous rumors he’s spread about you and his own animal attraction to you has gone to his head because in that very moment he considers how warm and tepid your thighs must be against his ears. His salivating tongue rolls between his lips. He morphs into the posture of a goddamn saint as soon as you slam the folder onto the surface in front of him, he jolts right into it from the sudden noise, as if a chastising ruler had just struck his naughty hands. “I’m prepared to make you an offer.”

“What is this?” The shiny material of the folder falls open, and he inclines forward to read the cover of the thick stack of papers within it.

“An NDR.”

“An NDR? For what?” Stephen plays dumb, but you naturally would assume he’d know nothing about what this deal entails. You give him a silent moment to scan it. Uneasily, as if he’s reading it wrong, he relays the synopsis of one of the passages. “You want… you want to have…”

“Sex.” you reply casually. “You have heard of it?” you joke. “You paint our encounters so colorfully in your little stories, I assumed you were far from a virgin. Or at least well-versed in porn.”

Stephen can feel his throat closing up, shifting in his seat as he engages with you, his mouth in a permanent gaping position, looking for an opportunity to get a word in. “No, no.” He shakes his head, gesturing to himself at his chest. “You don’t understand, I don’t know what you’re talking about- honest!”

“Mr. Glass.” you chide with a playful curl to your lips. Your hands grip the edges of the wood, leaning towards him as if you’re exchanging coy secrets. “Don’t be modest, you’d make a killing in the fictional industry. Whatever are you doing at The New Republic?”

He rallies, sharply inhaling through his nose. “Let me just get out of your hair, and we can forget this whole thing happened—” he pleads, and in an effort to remove himself from the confrontation, he rises from his seat. Your hand gives him a firm push at his chest, planting his ass right back where it belongs.

“Mr. Glass, by all means I’m not keeping you here against your will, but need I remind you: I am not to be trifled with. Forgive me for being indelicate, but why not have the real thing?”

A second of silence passes, and Stephen gulps. You stand, and return to your chair behind your desk. “Think about it.” you tell him, and he takes it as his cue to leave, hastily gathering himself to stride towards the exit. 

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Everything has been appropriately labeled, please do not read the ones marked 18+ if you are a minor

Multi-Chapter Series:

HEART OF THE FAE: The forest is full of mythical creatures, and you unwisely trespass on their territory. What happens when you become the ward of a handsome, blond, high Fae? Teaser Chapter 1 - The Forest

SECOND CHANCE SORCERER: After surviving Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in the Shibuya Incident, Nanami finds himself in an unknown realm between life and death. Will he escape?

One-Shots/Scenarios

Snapped (13+) Villain!Salaryman!Nanami. In the midst of a layoff, your boyfriend Nanami snaps at his own office, leaving a bloody trail in his wake. My Batter Half (E) Written for the Foodies and Goodies Challenge by @/ tsukimefuku . Reader goes about a long process to make a batter to cook Nanami some good food. Hell Hath No Fury (18+ #bhmf event) A night of lost tempers leads to Nanami contemplating certain (sexy) choices. Braiding Nanami's Chest Hair (13+) Basically the title. Fluff. Lipstick Test(18+) Reader gets creative when showing Nanami her different lip products. Vacation (18+) Nanami and a balcony in Paris. When The Cat's Away(18+) The mice do not come out to play as the reader patiently waits for Nanami to come home and relieve her from his previous edging. Can't stay away from you (13+) Ask box prompt. You can't stay away from him, no matter what. Lazy Saturday Mornings (18+) Morning sex with Nanami. Nanami's Baby Photos (E) Reader and Nanami are moving in and she finds a cute surprise when she opens one of the boxes. Promise Me (13+) Teen! Nanami. Reader is Nanami's high school sweetheart. When faced with a solo mission, she contemplates her life and choices as a Jujutsu sorceress. Angsty, fluffy. Nanami x Clueless Virgin Reader(18+) Ask box request. Shy!Virgin!Fem!Reader. Nanami introduces her to first orgasm. Secure In Your Lap (13+) Implied Desi!Asian!Reader, but good for anyone with difficult family dynamics. When reader gets an unwanted phone call from her mother, she's reminded of all the ways Nanami has made her feel loved and secure. Bridal Shop (18+) A final dress fitting leads to something else when the bridal shop owner, Nanami Kento, takes over your appointment. I’m Never Too Tired For That…( 18+) Fem!Reader. Reader is frustrated when her husband keeps coming home too tired for intimate activity. His Perfect Girl (18+) Fem!Reader. You'll do anything to be his perfect girl. Slight praise kink. A Little Jealousy (18+) Fem!Reader. You find out what happens when Nanami gets jealous.

Thoughts/Headcanons:

Nanami is Multilingual (18+) Nanami-chan! Giving Nanami Head (18+) Nanami Secretly Dances Teen Nanami's Favorite Songs Fae! Nanami Nanami Needs Advance Notice Me Flirting With Nanami as a Barbie Doll Nanami as a minion Nanami Loves it When You Annoy Him Laughing During Sex Nanami is Bad at Showing Interest Nanami Hates Libraries Me Flirting With Nanami as a Biotechnologist Nanami as a kid Nanami is a polite lover Nanami's housewife or an independent sorceress Nanami Soft Lover Original Post Nanami and boobs ask box Nanami X Desi Reader Nanami Kento Headcanons(partially MDNI) Random Nanami NSFW Thoughts Pt 1 If I was dating Nanami 1 If I was dating Nanami 2

Drabbles:

Easter Egg Prompt (E) Berry Red Prompt (E) Nature Prompt (E) Art Supplies Prompt (E) Dessert Prompt (13+) Dates Prompt (E) Mushroom Prompt (E)

Ask Box/Conversations/Misc:

Bring Nanami Back Calling Nanami a Dumb Blond Nanami MBTI Ask Nanami is Nurturing Nanami's Lap Nanami Soft Lover Ask Box

WIPS/Requests:

Fae! Nanami collab with @actuallysaiyan (multi-chapter)

Entry for @/ bleach-your-panties Blondes Have More Fun writing event

Second Chance Sorcerer Chapter 2

Nanami somno (ask box request)

Husband Nanami fluff/smut

Reader getting attacked by a Taylor Swift curse now can't stop singing her lyrics (include Shake It off)

[city-of-ladies]

"Embet Ilen (c. 1801-1851), was a woman of high birth who played a distinguished political role during the Zamana Mesafent (Era of the Judges, 1769-1855) in the region now recognized as Eritrea. Her fame is underlined in nineteenth-century sources by the unusual reference to Ras Woldemichael as the “son of Ilen” without any connotation of disparagement. The society's norm otherwise required one to be called after the father. She was no doubt the most emancipated woman in Marab-Millash (highland Eritrea) in the nineteenth century. 

Very little is known about her upbringing, education, and family history. Even the name of her father is not given with certainty. Killion calls him “Aite Hagos, Kantibai of Zagher” and the informants of Kolmodin refer to him as “Ayte Fisseha, the son of Ayte Seltan” (p. 142), while Yesehaq Yosef uses both names alternately. However, all sources agree that she was extraordinarily intelligent, a persuasive speaker, an astute politician, and a valorous leader. She is said to have personally commanded men in combat and fought herself like one of them, but she was never taken captive in the field. 

Ilen entered politics, not by choice but by the exigencies of the time. She was given in marriage to Ayte Selomon, who was the eldest son of Kantiba Zar’ay of Hazzega, who ruled the greater part of Hamasen—the highlands around Asmara—for over forty years. They had a daughter, Temertsa, and two sons, Woldemichael and Mar’ed. After her husband’s death, she had two more children from political liaisons. Her husband apparently suffered from poor health and was not popular within the family or powerful in the political arena. His own father, Kantiba Zar’ay, was said to have preferred Gabray Habtetsayon, a grandson, to be his heir; but tradition required that he name his son. He did, however, bequeath much of his wealth, including slaves, to Gabray, while Selomon received the hereditary office.

These circumstances developed into a bitter rivalry within the ruling family. Ilen was forced to deal with incessant intrigues during her husband’s lifetime and after his death around 1837 in order to preserve her sons’ right to ascend to the ruling seat. Sometime after his accession to the office in the mid-1820s, Selomon attacked the neighboring district and rival center of Tse’azzega for an unknown reason. His men were quickly routed by the defenders, and he fled to Gura’e, Akkale-Guzay, his mother’s home region. The unprovoked attack revived an old conflict between the two centers of Tse’azzega and Hazzega, which continued unabated until the Italians arrived in the region in 1889.

Ilen mobilized the remaining men of Hazzega and her relations in Karneshim and attempted twice to avenge the defeat of her husband but in vain. Fighting two fronts—Tse’azzega, on the one hand, and Gabray (who split her base), on the other—was too much for her. She then looked beyond the Marab for help. She allied with the ruler of Tigray, Shum-Agame Subagadis, who, having subdued Marab-Millash, appointed Ilen governor of the whole of Hamasen. After the death of Subagadis in 1831, the old rivalries of Marab-Millash broke out anew and Ilen had to look to other quarters for support. She succeeded in winning Dejjazmatch Wubé (also Webe) Hayla Maryam, ruler of all the northern provinces from 1831 to 1855, to her side and was confirmed in her office. She tended to treat her enemies harshly. Consequently, Gabray refused to submit to her rule and lived as a rebel in the heavily forested Ansaba region for many years, a situation which made her all the more uneasy and vigilant. She was generally regarded as excessively revengeful, an attribute which not only terrorized opponents but also brought about her untimely death.

In the late 1840s, she felt it was time for her to give up her regency in favor of her elder son, Woldemichael, who was then in his mid-twenties. Probably she was also tired of the ceaseless conflicts. She retired to the St. Mary Church of Hazzega as a nun. It was here, incidentally, that Kantiba Woldegaber, head of Dimbezan, visited her on his way back home. She received him cordially, in spite of the fact that they had been enemies for a dozen years.

Selomon had allegedly entrusted to him 40 rifles on behalf of his young children, but Woldegaber gave them away to Wubé as a present. When Woldemichael and Mar’ed requested him to hand them over some years later, Woldegaber denied having received any rifles from their deceased father. Besides, he had mistreated and dismissed his wife, the daughter of Ilen. Hence, Ilen had fought and defeated him in a battle some years before this unexpected visit. Woldegaber was murdered after his departure from Ilen’s friendly reception, a tragedy which the people of Dimbezan attributed to a sinister scheme of Ilen. As a consequence, Woldegaber’s relations surprised Hazzega; Ilen escaped and took refuge in a neighboring subdistrict. But her protectors feared an attack by her enemies and extradited her together with two of her small grandchildren, who were eventually tortured to death. This event became one of the underlying causes for Woldemichael’s contemptuous and rancorous attitude toward Hamasen for the next 30 years. "

Bairu Tafla, "Ilen, Embet", In: Emmanuel Kwaku Akyeampong; Henry Louis Gates (eds.). Dictionary of African Biography

[fatehbaz]

when the Empire's researchers realized that the cause of the ecological devastation was the Empire:

much to consider.

on the motives and origins of some forms of imperial "environmentalism".

---

Since the material resources of colonies were vital to the metropolitan centers of empire, some of the earliest conservation practices were established outside of Europe [but established for the purpose of protecting the natural resources desired by metropolitan Europe]. [...] [T]ropical island colonies were crucial laboratories of empire, as garden incubators for the transplantation of peoples [slaves, laborers] and plants [cash crops] and for generating the European revival of Edenic discourse. Eighteenth-century environmentalism derived from colonial island contexts in which limited space and an ideological model of utopia contributed to new models of conservation [...]. [T]ropical island colonies were at the vanguard of establishing forest reserves and environmental legislation [...]. These forest reserves, like those established in New England and South Africa, did not necessarily represent "an atavistic interest in preserving the 'natural' [...]" but rather a "more manipulative and power-conscious interest in constructing a new landscape by planting trees [in monoculture or otherwise modified plantations] [...]."

Text by: Elizabeth DeLoughrey and George B. Handley. "Introduction: Toward an Aesthetics of the Earth". Postcolonial Ecologies: Literatures of the Environment, edited by DeLoughrey and Handley. 2011. [Text within brackets added by me for clarity and context.]

---

British colonial forestry was arguably one of the most extensive imperial frameworks of scientific natural resource management anywhere [...]. [T]he roots of conservation [...] lay in the role played by scientific communities in the colonial periphery [...]. In India, [...] in 1805 [...] the court of directors of the East India Company sent a dispatch enquiring [...] [about] the Royal Navy [and its potential use of wood from Malabar's forests] [...]. This enquiry led to the appointment of a forest committee which reported that extensive deforestation had taken place and recommended the protection of the Malabar forests on grounds that they were valuable property. [...] [T]o step up the extraction of teak to augment the strength of the Royal Navy [...] [b]etween 1806 and 1823, the forests of Malabar were protected by means of this monopoly [...]. The history of British colonial forestry, however, took a decisive turn in the post-1860 period [...]. Following the revolt of 1857, the government of India sought to pursue active interventionist policies [...]. Experts were deployed as 'scientific soldiers' and new agencies established. [...] The paradigm [...] was articulated explicitly in the first conference [Empire Forestry Conference] by R.S. Troup, a former Indian forest service officer and then the professor of forestry at Oxford. Troup began by sketching a linear model of the development of human relationship with forests, arguing that the human-forest interaction in civilized societies usually went through three distinct phases - destruction, conservation, and economic management. Conservation was a ‘wise and necessary measure’ but it was ‘only a stage towards the problem of how best to utilise the forest resources of the empire’. The ultimate ideal was economic management, [...] to exploit 'to the full [...]' and provide regular supplies [...] to industry.

Text by: Ravi Rajan. "Modernizing Nature: Tropical Forestry and the Contested Legacy of British Colonial Eco-Development, 1800-2000". Oxford Historical Monographs series, Oxford University Press. January 2006.

---

It is no accident that the earliest writers to comment specifically on rapid environmental change in the context of empires were scientists who were themselves often actors in the process of colonially stimulated environmental change. [...] [N]atural philosophers [...] in Bermuda, [...] in Barbados and [...] on St Helena [all British colonies] were all already well aware of characteristically high rates of soil erosion and deforestation in the colonial tropics [...]. On St Helena and Bermuda this early conservationism led, by 1715, to the gazetting of the first colonial forest reserves and forest protection laws. On French colonial Mauritius [...], Poivre and Philibert Commerson framed pioneering forest conservation [...] in the 1760s. In India William Roxburgh [and] Edward Balfour [...] ([...] Scottish medical scientists) wrote alarmist narratives relating [to] deforestation [...]. East India Company scientists [...] [including] Roxburgh [...] went on to further observe the incidence of global drought events [...]. The writings of Edward Balfour and Hugh Cleghorn in the late 1840s in particular illustrate the extent of the permeation of a global environmental consciousness [...]. [T]he 1860s [were] a period [...] which embodies a convergence of thinking about ecological change on a world scale [...]. It was in the particular circumstances of environmental change at the colonial periphery that what we would now term "environmentalism" first made itself felt [...]. Victorian texts such as [...] Ribbentrop's Forestry in the British Empire, Brown's Hydrology of South Africa, Cleghorn's Forests and Gardens of South India [...] were [...] vital to the onset of environmentalism [...]. This fear grew steadily in the wake of colonial expansion [...] particularly [...] after the great Indian famines of 1876 [...].

Text by: Richard Grove and Vinita Damodaran. "Imperialism, Intellectual Networks, and Environmental Change: Origins and Evolution of Global Environmental History, 1676-2000: Part I". Economic and Political Weekly Vol. 41, No. 41. 14 October 2006

---

The “planetary consciousness” produced by this systemizing of nature [in eighteenth-century European science] […] increased the mobility of paradise discourse [...]. As European colonial expansion accelerated, the homogenizing transformation of people, economy and nature which it catalyzed also gave rise to a myth of lost paradise, which served as a register […] for obliterated cultures, peoples, and environments [devastated by that same European colonization], and as a measure of the rapid ecological changes, frequently deforestation and desiccation, generated by colonizing capital. On one hand, this myth served to suppress dissent by submerging it in melancholy, but on the other, it promoted the emergence of an imperialist environmental critique which would motivate the later establishment of colonial botanical gardens, potential Edens in which nature could be re-made. However, the subversive potential of the “green” critique voiced through the myth of endangered paradise was defused by the extent to which growing environmental sensibilities enabled imperialism to function more efficiently by appropriating botanical knowledge and indigenous conservation methods, thus continuing to serve the purposes of European capital.

Text by: Sharae Deckard. Paradise Discourse, Imperialism, and Globalization: Exploiting Eden. 2010.

[vettelsdarling]

Hey Lissie! Another Hamilton 5+1 for you because I love the format, hehe. Straight to the point, here it is:

5 times Y/N woke up without Lewis and one time they woke up together.

I can definitely see a potential for angst and a bit of misunderstanding or yearning?! Lewis can either be a f1 driver or have it as an AU with another job! The prompt needs a good reason of “why” for the absence and I am more than certain your mind will come up with a brilliant answer. I am thrilled and again, have fun!

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Lissie note… I love this prompt so much ugh!!! I changed it a slight bit to falling asleep rather than waking up (just for dramatic effect). Thank you for the prompt, love<3

Things to note

Reader is a paralegal

Lewis is frequently gone for races

They’ve been dating for 4~5 years and live together

There is a tiny age gap but it isn’t that bad

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x gf!reader

Warnings: Slight angst???

Word Count: 5.3k+

Playlist recommendations: 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭💔, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗

Taglist: @allwaysalleyway, @drugged-kitkat, @darleneslane, @littlesatanicassholebitch

His arms were warm. They were comforting to lie in and snuggle into. He trailed his fingers gently through your hair, as you slowly dozed off.

That was a dream.

The cruel reality of the real world, in the form of an obnoxious iPhone alarm, woke you up. It was already 6 AM, and your routine consisted of a hefty amount of self-care. This meant that you had about 10 minutes for a shower, 50 for hair care, and 30 for skin and makeup. Breakfast was out of the question. So much for self-care.

Before you left, you made sure to feed Roscoe and give him his well-deserved cuddles. Things had been hard ever since Coco passed, but Roscoe was still a happy spirit.

You went to the garage, noticing your boyfriend’s all too famous purple Mercedes. Your heart stung for a second, but you brushed it off. It was important to support his endeavours, instead of sulking about him.

You decided to go with your vintage beetle. Driving around in it was what kept you grounded. You’d gotten it for your 18th birthday from your parents. Not from your lover.

The fact that you didn’t quit your 9-5 paralegal job was also rationalizing, you didn’t stay home and leech off of your rich man. He was more than just a wallet. He was your partner. Besides, the media had already started to suspect that he wasn’t single anymore. Though he hadn’t been for years. The two of you had met coincidentally over a cup of tea with your boss. Lewis was his client and you were the first to oversee the situation before handing him off. That was about 6 years ago. For four, the two of you had been together. You had only given him your number regarding his case, but he’d taken the opportunity to ask you out.

Now, the two of you lived together in a mansion overseeing a large forest. It was quite far from your workplace, but you didn’t really mind. Having to wake up early was a small price to pay for the tranquillity of the surroundings. Although it would’ve been more tranquil, had you had more time with your lover.

Alas, there was nothing you could do about it.

1 |  Shades Of Cool

You sat there on your dreary chair in your dreary office. The white walls hypnotized you into thinking time was going much slower than it actually was. You stared away at it for a while, before someone knocked on your door.

“Hey, can you please do these briefs? I need to clock out for a dentist’s appointment in a few minutes. I promise I’ll owe you.” You accepted the pile and started going at it. Work usually made you forget the empty feeling of not seeing him often. Sometimes you even thought of staying all night. However, for Roscoe’s sake, you never stayed past dinner time. He couldn’t be alone for too long. It wasn’t fair to the poor boy.

It took hours and hours to get through the pile. You clocked out well past midnight and stopped by a pub to pick up some food before driving home. You knew a huge “sorry” was in order for your dog. He hadn’t seen you for several hours, definitely missing you.

You had 12 missed calls from him. Even though he was on an entirely different continent, he somehow found the time to call you. 12 times no less. You decided to call him back after finishing your dinner and making yourself comfortable next to Roscoe on your sofa.

“Hello, love.” You heard from the other end of the line, as he turned his camera on. There he was. His exhausted, but beautiful face. His hair wasn’t tied up. It was relaxed and so was he.

“Hey, Lewis,” you said and turned on your camera, showing yourself next to his beloved dog,

“Roscoe’s here too.” He let out a huff, which stirred a chuckle out of your boyfriend.

“How’s work? How are you doing?” He asked, knowing that you dreaded most of your coworkers if not all. Additionally, he knew that every day was the same at the office. You handled briefs and got files in piles by your superiors. It sucked.

“It’s okay… same old same old. How’s Spain?” You were so used to staying in the UK, you’d forgotten what it was like to travel. As a paralegal, you didn’t have the luxury to do so that often.

“It’s great. Did you see the videos I sent you? This car is incredible, darling.” You hadn’t seen them for one very specific reason; your heart would clench. It would simply give out at the sight of your boyfriend. Missing him was always a big problem, but with races being back-to-back… it hurt that much more.

“I haven’t had the chance to yet, no, but I’ll check them out later.” The hesitation in your voice must’ve been apparent, as he decided to ask into it,

“Something wrong?” You didn’t want to worry him, so you told a little white lie. You were simply just tired. That was it. That was all. Knowing him, he’d worry too much to focus on driving, which was the exact opposite of what you wanted for him. Besides, it’d be selfish of you to make his work all about yourself. Gosh, you really couldn’t stand your obsessive thoughts.

“Well, I promised Valterri I’d meet him at the gym. Sleep well, darling.” You blew him a kiss goodbye before shutting off the feed and turning over. Roscoe huffed and curled up beside you. It was dead silent except for the few wind rustles you heard from the open window next to the TV. It didn’t feel tranquil. No, you were lamenting the thought of being alone for so long. You hated it. It wasn’t an issue during the day. You had chores and you had work to do, but in the evenings when everything always gets quieter— your mind gets louder.

Roscoe was sleeping soundly next to you. Your hand stroked him gently whilst you scrolled through your Instagram feed. Naturally, you ended up on Lewis’ page. He was highly selective of who he was following. You, however, were amongst the few that he did. A smile spread across your face like room-temperature butter would be spread on a piece of bread. You didn’t appear much on his feed, as you liked being private. Though the posts you did appear in, all had captions with romantic undertones. You really were in love with that man.

I can’t break through your world, ‘cause you live in shades of cool…

2 | Sad Girl

The sun had already come to greet you. It was an early Saturday morning, which would’ve been peaceful— had you not forgotten about the LSATs. You woke up on the sofa that you’d passed out on the night before. Dried drool decorated the corner of your lip. What time was it? You checked your phone, only to realize that your battery was low and the test was in an hour. The sudden sound of your phone ringing sent you scrambling to answer it.

“Hey, are you on your way? I studied all night… Hopefully, we can do this.” Your friend, who usually sat in the cubicle opposite you, whined. She wasn’t a strong test taker, based on the fact that it was her 5th time taking the LSATs. 7 and she’d be all done. No more chances. In comparison to her, you were going in for the first time. You’d studied, but you had no idea how the whole thing would turn out. The tests only got harder and harder every year.

“I am, I am. The traffic is just insane at the moment. I’ll see you there.” You hung up and swiftly ran around the house to get ready. Roscoe was reasonably confused at the rush you were in. You kissed his wrinkly forehead before shutting the door behind you.

For nostalgic reasons, you decided to take Lewis’ purple Mercedes. It was the only one of its kind, so it’d make sense if some people recognized it. You didn’t care. It felt like Lewis was still with you, even if he was in an entirely different country. Speak of the devil, your phone buzzed. One message from him… “Good luck with the LSATs, darling”. Your heart clenched. You missed him so.

Traffic turned out to be light and breezy. Luckily, you made it in time for the test. Being a paralegal had its benefits, but it was and would always be a step below the real deal. You weren’t a real lawyer until you took the LSATs. Then, there was the deal with the bar exam as well. That was another story.

“Did you do good? I croaked. I’m toast. I’ll have to take it again…” said your defeated friend and munched down on her lunch that she brought.

“I don’t know. Maybe? I don’t really care at this point…” Of course, you did, but your mind was too occupied by the absence of your lover to hold an actual conversation. He expected you to tune in on his races whenever you had time to do so, but the fact of the matter was— you never could. It made your heart ache with longing. A painful longing for him to come back home. Especially on weeks when the race weekends were happening back-to-back. 

“I guess you don’t need to worry. You’ve got your boyfriend’s money to take care of you.” Although you barely listen to all of her blabbering about the test, that particular thing got through to you.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah. You’re literally dating a celebrity. You’re set,” she chuckled.

“Do you actually think you’re being funny right now?” She likely didn’t mean any harm, but with your pent-up agony and rage, it was hard not to let loose on her.

“Calm down, I was only kidding…” You’d made a scene. You were uncomfortable, things were awkward, and the only place your mind wandered to was Lewis.

“You know what, I’m sorry. I’m just really tired after the test. How about we catch up soon? I need to head home.” Your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest as you put the keys in the ignition. It almost felt as if you were an irrational teenager again. His absence did a number on you. It wasn’t always like that though. Throughout the previous season, he would always do whatever he could to see you in person. Whether it was bringing you with him, or flying back home. As the following season started, the two of you realized how unethical and harmful the solutions were to the environment. Coupled with the fact that you were trying to become a lawyer, there was no way to see him. No way to be held by him. No way to fall asleep in his arms.

That night, you stared into the ceiling for what felt like hours. The spot next to you was empty. Completely untouched. The sound of the gentle wind rustling the trees outside helped your brain work its wild imagination. Vivid pictures of Lewis played over and over and you couldn’t help but feel as though the two of you weren’t meant to be. You had conflicting schedules and you couldn’t just take a weekend off every week to go with him to his races. He couldn’t stay for your sake either. He had a job to do. A job that millions of people depended on for their entertainment. Were you an obstacle? All these thoughts drove into your heart like a stake. You wept. It was inevitable. You’d tried to not do so because you knew he wouldn’t want that… but it was hard. Too hard. Your vision was blurry and the sounds of the nature surrounding you were dimming slowly. You were falling asleep.

You haven’t seen my man…

3 | Off To The Races

Sunday morning was brutal. You woke up with a pounding headache due to having cried yourself to sleep. The sun made your situation much worse, blinding you as you tried to get out of bed. Upon checking your phone, you saw a slew of unread messages from your beau. All of them were minutes apart, making it clear that he’d been trying to reach you throughout the evening.

21:30- Hey, you’re not answering your phone, so I just wanted to text you instead. How are you?

21:55- Are you there? You’re usually not asleep at this hour…

22:45- I suppose you may be busy or asleep. In that case, sleep well baby❤️

22:46- Call me whenever you wake up

“Fuck,” you sighed and went to the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror seemed unfamiliar. You didn’t look like yourself at all. No, that wasn’t you. The face looking back at you had swollen eyes and redness coating the corners. Its mascara had been running and dried, giving the face a crustier look. It felt as if you were some little kid who couldn’t stand to be alone for the day, whilst their mother went out to buy groceries. It was embarrassing.

After feeding yourself and Roscoe, cleaning yourself up, and doing chores around the house— you decided that you’d turn on the TV to watch your boyfriend. You were too late for lights out, as they were on their 10th already. It didn’t matter though, for Lewis was in the lead. He had mentioned how good his car was, but you didn’t imagine a 20-second gap. It was pure insanity. 

Finishing on top, he ran to embrace the team with a smile. The cameraman followed his every move, and as he did so; Lewis came up to him and stared directly into the lens.

“I love you,” he said. Your heart keeled over and you felt your tear ducts get to work again. It was impossible to watch the rest of the celebration. You shut it off and went to calm yourself down. Breathing heavily in front of the bathroom mirror made you feel like a fool. Love made you weak, but it was a good kind of weak whenever your darling was around.

After a hearty nap, you woke up to your phone buzzing itself off your nightstand.

“Hello?” Your voice was jagged and rough from just having woken up.

“Are you okay? You’re not sick, are you?” His voice was breathy and exhausted. Physically, he was obviously worse off than you.

“Hey, no-yeah, I’m okay. I saw you out there today. You did so great, Lew.” His nickname was one that he adored. The way it rolled off your tongue made his heart flutter with joy.

“I’m glad you saw it. Did you… see the celebration?” He was obviously referring to the message he left for the camera. Your heart pumped faster and faster with adrenaline.

“I-uh… I did…”

“So?”

“I love you too. You know I do.” So much so that it hurt that he wasn’t next to you with his arm around your neck. You wanted to lean against his shoulder as he read you stories that his mother used to read to him. Fuck, it hurt.

“When are you coming back?”

“We still have a few things to do here. Thursday? I’ll be home for two weekends after that.” It was better than nothing, though hearing him say it felt like a long time. 

“I understand… I just hope you maybe miss me as much as I miss you?” Yeah, you stooped to that level. Your desperation was starting to reveal itself. Layer by layer.

“Are you insane? Not a second goes by without my thoughts being consumed by you. All I’ve ever thought of this weekend has been you. Staying safe for you, training hard for you, winning… for you.” For a moment, he almost sounded frustrated. But it was just a mask for how deeply he felt for you. The two of you sat in the same boat, rocking through the crashing tides of longing together. Each move was careful to not let the other drown.

“Are you crying?” He asked, careful not to step on any thorns.

“No…” you replied with a slight sniffle, signalling that you obviously were.

“It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ll be back home before you know it.” You wanted to hug him. You needed it so badly.

I’m your little scarlet, starlet, singin’ in the garden. Kiss me on my open mouth…

4 | Video Games

It was Monday, which meant that you could be distracted by your otherwise unforgiving job. Being a paralegal, your duties often consisted of briefs upon briefs which took up most of your 8 hours. You were crammed into a small cubicle with little to no space for any of your personal possessions. You’d hung a few pictures of Lewis and yourself and that was about it.

You stared into the dull computer screen, feeling the existential dread looming over you for every number you typed in. Your eyes were basically goo and the bags dragging them down were more apparent than ever. It would’ve been a pitiful sight for your coworkers if you weren’t surrounded by walls. 

“Hey you, wanna grab lunch together? Same place as always. It’s on me this time… since I owe you.” Even an invite to free food wasn’t enough to fully pull you out of your trance. You slowly forced your sluggish head to turn and meet your friend’s. The look of horror etched onto her face was enough to let you know you needed to get outside. 

“Sure… I guess.” You dragged your feet along the floor as you followed her to the elevator and outside.

“Is it Lewis again or shitty briefs?” She put in her sunglasses and led the way, locking her arm with yours to not look like she was dragging you against your will.

“Honestly? Both. I don’t get why I keep missing him this much, and I don’t get why some briefs suck that bad.” Lewis was one thing and briefs were more of a frustration. Nothing to cry over, really. You generally enjoyed what you did, so there was rarely anything to complain about. The job was cushy and allowed a lot of free time after hours. Team building exercises were scarce, but not to the point where conflicts arose every day. It was fine.

“We’ll have our usuals,” she said to the waitress.

“Look, you can’t control every aspect of your life. It’s meant to be unpredictable. Briefs suck sometimes, you’re going to feel bad about your boyfriend being gone— c’est la vie.” You knew she pulled that straight out of a podcast. At least the general gist of it.

“Whatever. I guess you’re right, that’s life.” You were just about to jump into a different topic when you heard Lewis’ ringtone from your purse.

“Sorry, I have to take this. I’ll be right back.” You scurried off to the restroom to take the call.

“Lewis? Why are you calling?” A bit harsh with his lack of context.

“Am I not allowed to call my girlfriend who, by the way, is very missed?” Just hearing his voice brought back the life that all those briefs drained you of.

“Of course you are… I’m just out for lunch right now.” You felt like a schoolgirl sneaking off to the bathroom to call your beau.

“Sorry, I forgot you usually do that. I was just checking in to say hi before I go in for a meeting.” His voice was so happy-go-lucky, it made you wonder if he missed you as much as you did him.

“… when are you coming back?” You heard a sigh on the other end,

“They’re keeping me here until Wednesday. I’m really sorry, babe.”  Of course. It was as if they didn’t want him to go home. Whilst you supported his job and did whatever you could do to show it— you wanted nothing more than for him to stop everything and be with you.

“It’s okay, we can wait. You should focus on your stuff, okay? Good luck with the meeting, Lew.” Luckily, he wasn’t able to see your face. It didn’t match your uppity voice.

“Thanks. See you soon.”

“Bye.”

You left the bathroom and went back to the table where your friend had begun eating. You followed suit and got back to the office after you finished.

After hours, you stopped by a deli to grab a sandwich to eat for dinner. Roscoe greeted you at the door with a huff and followed you to the dining room. The entire house felt empty without your other part to fill it with joy.

That night was another filled with tears and running mascara.

Pull up in your fast car. Whistling my name…

5 | Go Go Dancer

Your depressive slump had faded after the realization that you only had to survive one more night without him. You decided to call in sick and cash in on a few hours for yourself. It was going to be a personal day. You needed to pamper yourself. 

Your eyes were still bloodshot from all the crying, but your soul was cleansed of any negativity. Your favorite playlist was on and you began your day of treating yourself like royalty. All of your skincare was out on your vanity and Roscoe sat in the bed behind you. A warm bath was the first thing you did. Whilst flicking on a rom-com, you sat and soaked in the lavender-infused water. Thereafter, you retreated back to your bedroom. Your hair was up in rollers and your bathrobe clung tightly to your damp body.

Today was a day with no briefs, no worries, no salty bosses or annoying clients. You had all the time in the world for yourself. You ordered brunch and whilst you were waiting for it to arrive, you finished your skincare and makeup. After finding something to wear, you picked up the food from the awestruck delivery guy. He complimented your garden and your house. If there was one thing you enjoyed, it was gardening with Lewis. The two of you had worked tirelessly to make the front yard look perfect.

You ate quickly, drying your hair and styling it afterwards. Roscoe was fed and you were already through most of the day. 

You pulled out your nail kit from your stash of beauty products and laid out a protective layer on your bed. The playlist kept shuffling through some of your favourites. A gorgeous purple colour appeared before you under the tons of polishes you had. It was perfect and you knew Lewis would love it too. Not that you did it for him. You brushed layer after layer until you were satisfied with the result. It was glossy and simple. Just purple. Sophisticated, but not boring. The process was repeated on your toes as well.

After that, you decided it was time for some movies and popcorn. Lewis never really enjoyed things like popcorn, only ever allowing himself some dark chocolate with his espresso out on the veranda. So, you had to go out to get some. Since you lived quite remotely, you had to drive for a bit before the nearest store appeared. It was worth it though because you spent most of that night with comfortable blankets, popcorn, and bad rom-coms.

Roscoe was beside you all throughout the night, keeping you company with his huffs here and there. Pure tranquillity was what it was, and you couldn’t wait to do the same with Lewis the next evening.

The current movie had to be paused though, as you heard your phone ringing. It was your coworker.

“Hey? What’s up?” You asked, trying to sound hoarse.

“I just wanted to know if you were okay. Heard you were sick.” It sounded like she wasn’t fully sober and on public transport as well.

“Are you drunk?”

“No- yes- you tell me. We just went out for a drink after work today.” She was very clearly slurring her words beyond sensibility.

“We have work tomorrow, why would you ever do that?” Nobody had the guts to do something like that when your job consisted of aiding clients in stressful financial or legal situations.

“We don’t, actually. All of us were just fired on the spot today. He fired us all,” she chuckled and let out a hiccup.

“What?! What’s that supposed to mean?” Your heart sank. Your job… it was just gone.

“Yeah… I don’t know. I think he was in debt or something. Couldn’t keep it going so he decided to sink us all down with him.” You always pictured the CEO as someone with gravitas and money, but apparently, it was all a front.

“What do we do? Can’t we report it to HR somehow? Sue him for wrongful termination?” Admittedly, as calm and collected you usually kept yourself with work-related issues— you were panicking.

“There’s nothing we can do at this point. The entire company has gone to shit. Wouldn’t want to go back there if I was given a raise.” It sounded like she got off the bus, as you heard the doors open.

“You’re lucky you have Lewis. He can take care of you, right?” There was that dreaded guilt of leeching off of your boyfriend. It was a fear that kept gnawing at your ankles, eventually making it to your throat, knowing you had just lost your job.

“I… I don’t know what to say right now. I’ll call you later when I’ve thought about all of this. See you.” There was nothing more to say. It stung that you were in a position where Lewis had to take you under his wing. It felt wrong. It felt criminal.

You really couldn’t catch a break no matter how hard you tried. Something always prevented you from enjoying life as it came.

… and that night you didn’t sleep at all. You stayed up all night contemplating what to do, whether to sue, whether to leave Lewis and tell him to live a good life?! You were going insane. Embarrassment consumed every fibre of your being. The thought that you would depend on him for your survival…

I'm the girl next door, let me come in. I know I go-go dance but I do it for kicks. I never have to work ‘cause my daddy is rich…

+1 | Once Upon a Dream

You’d fallen asleep in the late afternoon after working on a lawsuit against your former boss. It didn’t matter if you’d get it thrown out of court. You just wanted to fight as much as you could. Your great lawyer friend agreed to help you out, representing both himself and you in the case.

Lewis tried to call you several times with no answer. He wasn’t one to worry about you, since he trusted you and knew you wouldn’t do anything stupid. He disregarded it and tried to enjoy his flight home. He was exhausted and just wanted to come home to his little family.

You usually called him before he’d take off, assuring him that you’d be waiting for him at the airport. However, this time was different. You didn’t call and you didn’t answer. His options were limited, forcing him to take public transport. He didn’t want to call a taxi, as they’d be able to note his address and could potentially put you in danger.

People took pictures and some asked him for signs. He didn’t mind it, though he was falling in and out of sleep. When he got off his stop, he decided to walk the rest of the way. The weather was fair and didn’t look like it would change for a while.

On his way, he stopped by a florist to buy you a bouquet of your favourite flowers. He knew you loved having them on the dining table to show any guests.

He wasn’t far away and could see the garden of your house from afar. Meanwhile, you were still buried under your blankets with the lawsuit on your laptop on the coffee table in front of you.

The sound of the front door clicking and closing could be heard, but you were too far gone in your sleep to notice. He called out your name with no response. You weren’t in the bedroom. You weren’t in the kitchen. No, there you were. Your face was buried in the arm on the sofa and the TV was still playing a movie he remembered watching with you some time ago. He saw your laptop, reading some of the contents that were visible on the screen. It didn’t quite make too much sense, but he didn’t want to pry in case it was private.

“Hey… I’m home.” He shook you gently and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Being something of a light sleeper, it woke you up almost instantly.

“Lewis?” Your eyes fluttered open, as you had to adjust to the light. You saw the face of your lover and embraced him in an instant,

“Oh, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, darling.” He stroked the back of your head as it rested on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come get you, I was caught up with work and I fell asleep.” It wasn’t a lie per se. It worked… sort of.

“It’s fine. It’s completely fine. You seem distressed, are you alright?” There was nothing you could hide from him. One way or another he’d find out anyway.

“I lost my job. We were all fired.” He was almost as shocked as you were the night before,

“Are you serious? Why?”

“My best guess? The company was sinking.” You sighed and picked up your laptop. The document already contained 3 sections and 15 pages. You were, however, far from done.

“My friend and I are trying to sue. I’m not sure if it’ll hold up in court though.” Your face looked droopy and sad, something Lewis hated.

“You know what? It’s going to be okay. I know it seems rough, and it is. But look on the bright side. We can find you a better job. Better pay, better equity. Plus, for the time being— you could come along to my races. We wouldn’t need to be separated all the time.” He was right. Your job was cushy, but it had its faults regarding exactly the issues he pointed out. The feeling of missing him constantly didn’t bode well with you either. It was a win-win, really. You weren’t actually depending on him, because it didn’t hurt to ask for help every now and then. Especially when the two of you were so in love.

“Yeah… that’d be nice, actually. I do need to file this lawsuit though. I need it.” Lewis nodded in agreement and smiled,

“Of course, love. You do what you need to do. I’ll be here to help.” You closed the laptop and smiled back at him,

“I think we should cook some dinner. What do you have in mind?”

“Anything. It tastes amazing as long as you make it anyway.” The flattery never stopped. As cheesy as it was— you loved the sentiment.

“Right. I’ll see if we have some rotten eggs and spoiled milk in the fridge,” you joked and he chuckled,

“I love you, darling.”

“I love you too, Lew.”

That night, you fell asleep with his arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest. You could hear how his heartbeat synced with yours. This was complete tranquillity, and you couldn’t believe that this would be your reality for a long time now.

I know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once. The way you did once upon a dream…

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻…

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.) (Please note that just liking the taglist will not put you on it!)

[pit-and-the-pen]

Dirty Little Secret

Day 3 of @erisweekofficial: healing/betrayal

Summary: You were one of Beron’s top spies, your assignment, Eris. Little did you know how complicated that was going to get…

Warnings: Beron being awful, burning, violence + injury

WC:2.7k

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

You woke up to find the other side of the bed already empty. This has become the new normal for you. The past few months you would go to bed wrapped around Eris and come morning he would be gone. It was really for the best.

Even if he was doing it to protect your image. something he didn’t need to worry about in the slightest. Eris believed you were nothing more than a newly appointed lady, and didn't question your sudden arrival into the court. The very opposite in fact, he had approached you first. Took you riding less than a week after first introducing himself. You never expected to enjoy his company so much, never intended on sneaking off into hidden corners of the palace to press his lips against yours.

It had all happened so quickly that you were still struggling to wrap your mind around it. Every time the guilt threatened to eat you alive. But as you rolled over and barrier your face into a pillow that still smelt of cloves and pine, you couldn’t find it in yourself to put a stop to it. 

A knock on the door had you quickly tugging your discarded dress over your head. It cracked open to reveal one of Berons men. 

“You’re needed.” Was all he said, voice clipped and annoyed. You fought the urge to roll yours eyes 

-------

Beron’s office was one of your least favorite places to be, second only to the tunnels of dungeons he has hidden under the forest palace. At Least those places didn’t hide what they were used for. Didn’t try to go through all the pomp and posturing that had no one fooled. Berons office was covered in dark mahogany wood, lush and dark velvets. If it was anyone else in the room it would be homey. But with Beron’s anger like a pulsing heartbeat in the room, it felt like walking into a tomb. 

“Report.” He barely looked up from the papers in front of him. 

”There’s nothing to report.” You told Beron as you stood across from his desk. 

“I’m not paying you to sleep with my son. I’m paying you to find out what he’s up to.” 

You didn’t back down, didn’t break his stare. “You told me to do whatever it took to get him to talk, to trust me. And I’m telling you, he hasn’t told me anything.”

”Then keep looking.” He waved his hand in a clear dismissal. You gave a curt nod of your head and exited the room without looking back. 

You traveled down the hidden passages of the palace, wanting to avoid contact with anyone that would be more than happy to sell the information of you leaving Beron’s office. The paths were designed for servants to travel without being seen, which was more than fine with you. After all, you were no different than a servant for Beron. YOu mind was spinning, replaying the conversation. Keep looking. It was such a ridiculous notion. You spent every minute you could with Eris but Beron refused to believe that he simply wasn’t up to anything at all. Convinced that his son was plotting something he just didn’t know what or who with. 

Nevermind that you had noticed that Eris was going somewhere, but it wasn’t worth drawing attention to until you had more details. You found a small part of you that didn't want those answers. Didn’t want to pry information out of the sweet redhead that was slowly starting to consume your thoughts. 

The passageway opened up right next to the door to the garden and you decided a walk would be the perfect way to clear your head. The crisp autumn air always helps you relax. The slight bite that reminded you of each breath. 

Soon enough, the perfectly manicured lawns gave way to winding pathways and thick forest. You could hear the sounds of birds flying in the high branches, animals crunching on the fallen leaves. A pair of hands at your waist had you spinning quicker than you could process, your arm braced against their throat as you backed them against a nearby tree. Warm amber eyes were open wide in shock. 

“Oh my gods.” You scrambled and stepped away from a rather surprised Eris.

He rubbed his neck lightly with a hand, “Remind me to never sneak up on you again.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

He wrapped a hand around your front, pulling you tight against him. 

“I think I can maybe forgive you. If…” He trailed off. YOu rolled your eyes but couldn’t keep the smile off your face. 

“If?” You raised an eyebrow at him, head slightly inclined up to look at him as he pressed himself closer. 

“I’ll think about forgiving you if you kiss me.”

“I’d kiss you even if you didn’t.” You rose onto your tiptoes, pressing your lips against his. When you tried to pull away he placed his free hand on the back of your mouth, pushing him even closer against him. You smiled into the kiss, lips tugging up as he pulled away, starting a slow trail along your jaw.

“I love you” He whispered against the skin of your neck. You felt your whole body tense at the words, his hands freezing their path along your waist. no.no.no.no

“Eris. You can’t mean that.” Your voice was desperate. Begging him to take it back. 

“Why can’t I? I'll be high lord someday. We won't have to hide from my father then.” 

“You only just met me.”

”And in all of my long life I have never felt this way about anyone.”

The mother had to be playing some kind joke. In any different lifetime, in any different world this would be the greatest thing you’ve ever heard. In a different life you would have shouted the words back, wrapped your arms around his neck and loved him without abandon. But this was not another world and the mother had always been cruel. You pulled away despite every nerve telling you to pull him closer. 

“ You can’t because I don’t love you. Eris,” The words felt so wrong, you focused on anything but the way his face dropped. “How could I ever love you? I would be stuck in this awful court forever.” You tried to make the words sound sincere, prayed he wouldn’ pry and push because you couldn’t say them again. Your heart couldn’t take it.

”I’ll change it. I would change it all for you. Please. You can’t mean this.” Tears lined his gorgeous eyes, cheeks already reddening. You could only shake your head. You pried yourself out of his grip, putting distance between the two of you. 

“I thought I could do this. But I..I can’t. I’m so sorry.” 

The cold air that had just been refreshing seemed to be tormenting you as it bit at the skin of your cheeks,stinging the wet skin. You pushed into the palace and didn’t pause as you opened the hidden door, slinking in the dark hallway until you were at the entrance right outside of your room before collapsing into your bed. 

-------

“Find someone else.” You slammed your palms down onto the wood of Beron’s desk. The glass figure on his desk wombling slightly at the force. 

“I don’t think I remember asking for your opinion.” He rose from his chair, his guards hands went to rest on the swords by their sides. 

“He isn’t going to tell me anything anymore.”

“And how, pray tell, did you manage to mess up that badly.” He snarled out at you. 

“He said he loved me. I, of course, said I didn’t. No way in hell he tells me anything anymore. So find someone else if you want information that badly.”

“I gave the job to you.”

“And I’m telling you I don’t want it.”

“You believe you have a choice in all of this. Do I need to remind you that I own you, you wokr for me. And you certainly do not get to tell me what you will and won’t do. So I will remind you of my request from when you started. Do what you have to.” 

Metallic blood filled your mouth as you bite your tongue to hold back the curses you wanted to spew  at the High Lord in front of you. Scream at the world for putting you into this position in the first place. But instead, you merely gave Beron a deep mocking bow and turned to walk out of his office. 

You had the plan hatched before you had even arrived back to your room. It was simple. Something Eris had joked about in passing. Beron was never going to let you go, so you would have to leave. Before you did, you would need to see eris one last time. Explain to him what had really been going on the whole time. And hope it would only take a kiss this time for him to forgive you. 

The door to his room was slightly open which was unusual for him. It was closed whether he was in it or not. Dread filled your stomach as you pushed open the door. The smell of burnt fabric quickly filled your nose, the rug on the floor burnt and melted at the edges. There had been a struggle. The perfectly organized table besides Eris’ bed had been overturned, books strewn across the floor. The glass rose you had given him lay shattered beside them. 

Picking up the edges of your skirt, you sprinted down the hallways, running so fast your lungs hurt with each stride but you had to get to him. 

You barreled through the doors of the throne room and were greeted with Beron casual sprawled out on the blood red chair. 

“Ah you decided to join us. Clever little fox.” Beron’s slow claps filled the air as you walked closer. 

Kneeling on the ground with guards surrounding him, was Eris. He struggled against the guards, heavy blue tinted manacles hung from his wrists. 

Eris opened his mouth to speak as his father raised a hand to him.

“I would consider your next moves very carefully.” Beron’s voice was like ice. the words crept over your skin, horror rising in you as he raised a hand to you. 

“Maybe you don’t have enough motivation.” Every single step you took echoed around the throne room. “I believe the two of you have met before. But allow me to do the proper introductions. (Y/n) is one of my newest spies.”

Eris struggled against the chains on his wrists. Eyes flickering up to you, honing in on the possessive hand his father had laid on your shoulder. 

“You’re lying.” He spit out at his father. 

Beron’s cruel laughter rang through the room. “Why don’t you ask her? But it's a shame, really, she won’t tell me anything… I wonder if she just needs some motivation.”  

That was when you saw it, one of Beron’s guard standing, a wreath of flames around his hand. “No. Please.” You felt a slap land on your face. 

“Then talk.”

“He didn’t tell me anything. I swear.”

“Such a shame.” Beron nodded at his guard. The man didn’t hesitate to rip the back of Eris’ shirt. 

“Stop.” But your screams of protest were blocked out by the sound of flesh sizzling. Eris ‘ body went tense, the muscles in his face contorting. He didn’t release a single sound as the guard repeated the action. You went to move but someone was already there, pinning your arms to your side. You were forced to watch him place his hand over and over again onto eris’ back. 

“Please. It’s me that failed, don’t punish him fo-”

“You think I’m doing this because of you?” Beron shouted down at you, rising from his throne. “My son is hiding things from me, that’s why I’m doing this. I could give a shit about your or his attraction.” 

Beron took a step, grabbing your chin with his hand. A motion that had you baring your teeth at him. 

“I think it goes without saying that you no longer have a position in my court. I’ll grant you the courtesy of an hour's head start.” He turned to his men, who were already looking at you with feral grins, “Then the hunting begins.” He shoved your face away from him, his guards releasing their hold on your arms. They screamed in pain but as you looked at eris, panting and half conscious on the ground, you didn’t feel the pain. Only the rippling anger as you looked at the male you had grown to love in a very short amount of time. 

Beron and his men filed out of the throne room, not sparing another glance at you or Eris. Leaving the heir of autumn to struggle to remove the chains himself. You moved with ease, catching him right when his feet slipped out from under him. He recoiled from your touch like it had burned worse than the guard.

You caught a glimpse at his back and tried to fight back the burning tears. You managed to unlatch the cuffs, letting them fall to the ground with an echoing clatter. You pushed them away with your feet, keeping your eyes trained on Eris’ back. The skin red and leaking, you could feel the heat coming off in waves as you tried to lift him to his feet. When you couldn’t you helped him onto his front, cradling his head, running your fingers through his hair. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to love me, and I wasn’t supposed to love you.” You spoke into his hair, bent down with your face pressed against the side of his neck.

“How could I not?” His voice was hoarse and quiet. You let out a soft laugh, tears sliding down your cheeks. 

“I’ll kill him for this.” You said, pulling Eris’ head into your lap. Leaning down, you placed a kiss on Eris' forehead and started planning how you were going to make Beron pay for what he did to Eris. 

Your mind was racing with ideas of how to make him pay for every shred of pain that he had made his sons feel, for the terror he reigned on his court. And found a small smile tugging at the edges of your lips as you thought of how much you would enjoy it.

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 8-Mori/Reader with prompts Fingering and Doctor Kink

Notes: Mori was getting dangerously attractive in that Yosano flashback…and obviously your ob-gyn should absolutely never do anything our doctor Mori is gonna do, this is a fanfiction, so, fiction. Anyway, enjoy(also im totally glossing over some of the less sexy bits of a normal appointment lol)

The familiar tickle of the bell welcomes you as you enter the familiar lobby of your Gynecologists. You check your watch, noting that you're a little early, so you set your purse on the coffee table and scroll through your phone absentmindedly. The office is surprisingly empty, only one other person sits in the lobby, a middle aged woman who smiles kindly in your direction, before Anne, the receptionist, calls her over with a wave. She’s definitely not new, you’ve known Anne since she started working here, and she’s still as pretty as ever, with long red hair and green eyes. She sends you a wink and a smile, and you smile back. 

You fiddle a bit with your necklace, bored. It's a new one, a classy thin gold chain with a single, red ruby. It winks prettily between your collarbones, drawing all eyes. You paired it with a white blouse, and a dark red skirt, as flashy as you could get away with at work, anyway. Your boss liked it when her employees quote unquote, ‘expressed themselves’, although you still got written up occasionally. Although it was probably Brad, your boyfriend, still salty about the shopping spree you had gone on when you found he cheated on you.

You're so bored you find yourself staring around at the familiar decorations for the thousandth time. The familiar fake flowers on the table, the tabloid and other magazines, the chairs around the front office, the pictures on all the walls. Your favorite one is a watercolor painting, naked fairies and female elves dancing around an enchanted forest. It was just so whimsical and pretty it had always fascinated you. 

“Miss Name Last-Name?” The receptionist smiles when you look up, gesturing at a pretty blond Nurse with a clipboard. She’s also young, maybe early thirties and she smiles as she leads you back into the room. Janet, the Nurse’s name she had informed you, quickly and efficiently takes care of the weight and height measurements, before she gives you a small smile and nod, and leaves the room. It's the same room you’ve been to before, ever since you were sixteen.

It's embarrassing but you've lived in the same town for most of your life. Your parents had moved you and your siblings here when you were seven years old, because your mom wanted to be by the sea and your father loved your mother a bit too much perhaps. But they were your parents and you loved them, no matter how embarrassingly lovey dovey they insisted on being. 

But anyway, this was your hometown. You had gone to school here, made lifelong friends here, and all of your doctors appointments had been in this town, including the Gynecologists. Your ob-gyn, Maya, had known you since you were young, and was a kindly middle aged woman, an old friend of your moms. It would be nice to see her again. You're sitting on the chair, legs not hooked but swinging in front of you when a knock on the door sounds and Nurse Janet peaks her head in. 

“I'm sorry miss Name, but Maya, your usual isn't available.” You frown in concern. “Is she ok?” The nurse steps in completely, her clipboard clutched to her chest. “Yes, she just has a cold. I can either reschedule your appointment or assign you another doctor temporarily. What would you prefer?” The way the nurse speaks is a little peculiar, but you just brush it off. A new doctor, temporarily at least. You're tempted, just out of comfort to reschedule, but , and you've already driven here and gas prices are so high nowadays, it just feels like such a waste. You nod, coming to your decision. “I'll proceed with the appointment.” Janet nods, checking her clipboard. “Alright then, Doctor Mori will see you in about ten minutes.” The door closes and she’s gone.

Doctor Mori. You’ve heard the name, Maya has mentioned him in passing. And if Maya recommends him he has to be good, you have a lot of faith in your old friend. Your phone rings, loudly and with tha familiar ringtone that signifies your sister's calling. You check the clock on the wall, you have about even minutes, and quickly answer the phone. 

“Leila, i'm in the doctor's office.”

Your sister giggles. “I know.” She says, yelling over the chaos you can hear faintly in the background. “I'm calling because mom told me to tell you that Maya is out with a cold. So you should reschedule your appointment for next week or something.”

You sigh, as usual your mothers a little too late. “Um, it's too late for that. Couldn't you have told me like yesterday or something?” 

 “It's not my fault, blame mom.” Your sister scoffs.“So did you reschedule?”

“No, I decided to see another doctor, at least temporarily.” You pick your nails, checking the clock. Five minutes. “The new nurse called her Doctor Mori? You know, the other doctor that shares the building with Maya.”

“Oh yeah, I always remember Maya talking about him.” You can faintly hear your mother yelling in the background, and then your sister yells back, pulling the phone from her ear. “What mom? He? What? Just come here and tell her yourself!”

“Honey? That you?” Your mom’s voice interrupts your sister. “How are you honey?”

“I'm great mom.” You sigh. “Why didn't you tell me about Maya earlier.”

“Oh you know, i forgot.” Your mom giggles, shouting over the Bob Marley playing in the background. “Anyway honey, your sister told me you decided to see Doctor Mori?”

You check the clock. “Yeah, it seemed like a waste to just leave. And you gotta hurry mom, I'm almost out of time.”

“I see, I see.” Your mother makes no attempt to hurry, but then again she never does. “Well, Maya introduced me to Doctor Mori one time, and honey, he’s very handsome!”

“Yeah, yeah ok.” You check the clock one more time, you need to go. “Well I gotta go mom, i'll see you later then.” 

“Yeah, see you later Honey. Say hi to Anne for me. Oh, and tell her congratulations on her marriage.” And with a click, she’s gone. You sink back into your seat with a sigh, and then, something your mother said finally clicks. He. you shoot up in your seat, just as the door creaks open, and sure enough and man makes his way into the room. 

Your mother was right, he is handsome. His hair is slightly long and slightly messy with loose strands falling around his face. The dark strands tickle his neck, just barely brushing his shoulders. He’s clothed in a lab coat for some reason, underneath which is a gray purple button down and a slightly loose black tie. His eyes are dark, and slight wrinkles at the corner betray his age. He has a pair of small, rimless glasses hooked on his collar. 

“Miss Name? I'm Dr. Mori, I'll be filling in for Dr. Henderson today.” He blinks at you with a slightly absent smile. It feels unreal honestly, of course your replacement is a handsome older man who, in a few minutes, is going to have his hands all over your pussy. You curse every evil god who put you in this situation. And you hope, pray or anything else you can do that you won’t get wet. You sigh.

“It’s nice to meet you Dr, Ma-er, Dr Henderson has mentioned you before.” You smile, wishing that you weren’t currently at a gynecologist appointment with a man who was probably married who you were definitely thirsting over. “Although I thought…never mind.”

“You thought I was a woman?” You nod and the doctor laughs a little. “Yes, I’m not surprised. I’m actually partially retired, I just do Maya the occasional favor now and then.” Mori puts on his glasses, squinting at a clipboard. You try to subtly look at his hands, checking for a wedding ring.

“It looks like Maya took care of most of your checkups a few weeks ago?” He says. You nod. “Yes, we just ran out of time for the last few. She was going to do them today but…” The doctor nods, confirming your thought. He flips through the papers on the clipboard, before setting it down on the small desk next to a picture of a pretty blond girl with blue eyes, the doctor next to her in the picture. “Dr. Henderson already did most of the necessary tests. Looks like you guys didn't quite get around to the physical?” You give him a nod in responds and he smiles. “Alright, well I'll step out for a moment, can you please take off your underwear and hook your legs up in those—well you know what to do. I'll be back in a few minutes.” You give him a nervous little nod and laugh combo, and he steps out of the room, closing the door behind him. You sigh, standing and rolling up your tight office skirt, and ridding yourself of your boring white panties. This is going to be so embarrassing, because you just know you're going to get at least a little damp. It's very different to have a fifty ish woman who you’ve known for years poking around your vagina, versus a finely aged dilf, with no wedding ring to speak of. You sigh again, climbing up into the strange reclining chair and hooking your knees in the stirrups. With your skirt rolled up like this, you can feel the cool air brushing your bare pussy, and you shiver a little. 

The door opens and Mori steps back in, noting your position on the chair with a nod. “I see you're ready to begin?” The doctor has a pair of plastic gloves on and he’s hooked his reading glasses back on his collar, the tie somehow slipping even more. You give him an affirmative, doing your best to nip any problems in the bud by focussing your thoughts squarely on your pet Cat. And it works too, as the doctor's gloved hands begin to feel surely on your pelvic bone, dancing around the lips of your pussy. Then, he starts to talk, distracting you from the cat.

“So, Miss Name, seems like you’ve known Maya for a while, huh.” He says. “Yep,” You reply, still trying to think of your cat. “I've had her since I was about seventeen. I assume you guys are old friends as well?”  

“Yes, we used to work together.” The doctores sure fingers pull at the lips of your pussy, and he squints. “That was until my ex-wife decided she didn't want me touching other women all day long, even if it was my job.” Your ears catch on ‘ex-wife’ and all thoughts of your cute pet cat fly from your mind. Your thighs twitch slightly, and you change the subject quickly. “That must be your daughter then, in the picture? Sorry if I snooped.” You bite your lip and avoid eye contact, it makes it all worse when you watch him prod at your pussy. Thankfully, for now at least, his fingers have left the more sensitive areas and are now poking at your pelvic bone again. 

“Yes, my little girl Elise. She’s pretty isn't she?” You nod, and he continues. “What about you? Any kids?” 

You shake your head with a laugh. “No, not quite yet anyway. I just broke up with my boyfriend actually.” Your tone turns a little resentful, you can't help yourself. “He cheated on me.” Mori makes a noise of surprise, cocking his head up to meet your eyes. “He cheated on a girl as pretty as you, huh. Spread your legs a bit for me darlin.” You almost choke, ninety nine percent sure you misheard. That damn pet name, Darlin’, and the complement? God you're doomed. The doctor chuckles at your silence, his dark eyes leaving your own as they dart back to your pussy. One hand spread your pussy lips apart, and two gloved fingers poke at your hole, pushing in slowly. You bit your lip, hard. You can hear the slight squelching his fingers make, and you literally want to die. Maybe if you pretend nothing is wrong, he will spare you the humiliation. 

“So, do you miss your job?” You clear your throat as his fingers reach deeper, pressing around looking for something. 

“Oh, a little.” The doctor's other hand goes higher, pressing down slightly on your lower stomach, feeling around. “Although, I usually don't get such pretty patients to work with. You're making this old man blush.” Oh, he knows, he’s definitely noticed how wet you are and he’s teasing you. You still can't quite tell if he’s flirting or not. He can't be, right? He’s a really handsome man, he must have a girlfriend or something. 

He withdraws his fingers from inside you, and you sigh with relief. But all your embarrassment comes rushing back as he reaches for the familiar speculum, slowly inserting it into your pussy with a squelch. You blush at the sound, but the doctor doesn't bat an eye as he ever so slowly opens it, peering inside for a few long, agonizing seconds. And then, he’s pulling it out with an embarrassing sound and placing it on a tray beside him. 

“Well, looks like we have no problems.” He takes off his gloves, balling them together and placing them on the tray beside the Speculum. “Everything looks good and you're plenty…” He pauses. “…Sensitive.” You blush, way too embarrassed to even complain. He clears his throat a little, dark eyes still darting back and forth between your pussy and your face. His eyes are dark, and they have a strange shine as they meet your own again. With a leap of faith, you decide to throw caution to the winds.

“I don't know doctor, you might need to check a little more thoroughly.” He eyes you for a moment, and an embarrassing silence fills the room for a moment. And just as you're about to backpedal, Mori stands, and with a click, locks the door. “You know…” He says, a new kind of gleam in his eye. “Maybe I should. Do you have any particular concerns?” This is absolutely crazy, and you love every minute of it. 

“Oh, I don't know, Doctor.” You shoot him a flirty little wink. “Maybe you should feel around in there some more, check for any irregularities?” 

“That's a good idea Darlin.” He pulls a stool over, and hangs his coat over a nearby chair, rolling up his shirtsleeves. “Well, I'll start with an oral check up, then maybe use something a little longer to really check you out, that sound good?” You nod, your reply dissolving into a moan as he leans closer, the flattened length of his tongue coming in contact with your clit. He starts out slow, flattening his tongue against your clit, dancing around the edges of your hole, teasing you with his little smirks. He looks way too hot like that, face buried in your pussy, your hands tugging at his hair. 

“You know Doctor,” You choke out, as the naughty slurping sounds fill the room. “My insides feel a little tight, maybe you should check those out.” Mori pulls away from your pussy, shooting you a spit slicked feral grin. “I was just thinking the same thing.” And then, he slips two fingers inside. Your head falls back against the chair, as his head disappears again, tongue licking your clit. He had his fingers inside you before, but it feels different now that he’s really trying to make you lose it. He scissors his fingers open, prying your hole open for future activities and your going to lose it. You need him inside you, right now.

“Doctor.” He looks up at you, fingers pausing inside of you. “I need you inside of me. Now.” 

Mori chuckles at your enthusiasm, withdrawing his fingers from inside you with a squelch, and moving to the cabinet. He pulls a foiled package out, and waves it in your direction. You giggle, playing with your tits through your shirt. “My my doctor, do you always fuck your patients?” 

“Nope, you're this old man’s first in a while.” He offers as a reply, unbuckling his pants. “We give free condoms to teens, to encourage safe sex.” He doesn't even pull down his pants, just pulls his erect cock out and strokes it a few times. You watch, licking your lips as he slides the condom down it. It's big, and you know he’ll stretch you out nicely. Maybe another time you would like to have it down your throat. But for today, you need him inside you.

Mori seems to share your enthusiasm, as he hurriedly lines his dick up with your hole, and with one last look of assurance, starts to slowly push in. The stretch is a lot, but with all that preparation it just barely stings. It also helps that he goes slowly, allowing for you to fully adjust to his hardness. He grips your thighs with his big hands as he fully shields himself inside of you, pulling out and using your thighs to pull you right back onto his dick. Your voice comes out in little pants and moans, joined by his grunts. 

“So doctor, everything alright?” Your voice is far from steady, but you can't really bring yourself to care. “How does it feel?” 

“Heavenly darling.” Mori’s mouth crashes onto yours, practically inhaling your face. He kisses with a wild kind of desperation, so different from the unhurried tone of voice he had taken up before. It's hot, the juxtaposition. And you can feel the coil of an orgasm curling in your stomach. “I'm close.” You pant out, as Mori nuzzles your jaw, his hair tangling with your own. “Same.” The doctor pants out, his steady rhythm speeding up a little, and you moan out especially loud as his calloused thumb works at your clit, rubbing little circles into it. 

The tangle of orgasm is building now, and then, the tip of his dick hits that spot, the spot that makes pleasure explode though your body. You shudder, and cum around his dick, gripping his shoulders and moaning out a garbled mix of his name and some moans. He continues thrusting, working you through your orgasm and just as you're about to come down he thrusts one more time, and with a small little moan in your ear, he withdraws. 

“So doctor.” You pant, leaning back against the chair. “Everything healthy?” 

“Very.” Mori says, disposing of the condom in the garbage and doing up his clothes. He scratches his neck awkwardly, watching you put on your underwear and roll down your skirt. “So, Miss Name? Do you maybe want to get coffee together or something?” 

You grab your purse, and turn, planting a bold little kiss on his lips, and pressing your business card into his hands. “I’d love to.” And with a ‘call me’ you close the door behind you.

End Notes: It's been a long time since i had an appointment lol, the details are hazy at best. Also barely got this one done in time

Taglist:@mulit05ho3st4n

[middlingmay]

Soldier!Bucky AU

This idea has been floating around in my head for a while, but:

Bucky was never a pilot before the war. He wanted to join the airforce when the war started, but it stressed Mama Egan TF out so he "settled" for the Army.

He climbs the ranks quickly, still becomes a Major quite young, and is aces at quelling disputes because he can turn anything into a joke (usually with himself as the butt of it, but people aren't arguing when they're laughing together, right? May as well be at him.)

The Brass are well aware of the less than stellar relationship the Army boys have, and as well as "cultural lessons" before they ship out to Britain and the rest of Europe, Bucky finds himself informally appointed as his squad's babysitter.

Which he doesn't like. Because the higher ups have mistaken his charisma for responsibility. Which Bucky hates more than those drab army coats.

Speaking of which, he still has the sheepskin! He won it off an airman at a card game, and refuses to wear anything else. He's gotten in trouble for this many times, but his superior officer more or less gave up after he used it to get his guys out of some trouble.

With the RAF. Who, yep, he still hates. Because he admires the fuck out of the US Airforce.

So the RAF are insulting some US soldiers in a pub, but pretending they're not. But Bucky notices the worst culprit is a lieutenant. And a fight is brewing because his guys are bored, and spats have been breaking out for weeks now, and his CO genuinely might shoot them all if there's another issue.

So he swaggers up to the RAF lieutenant, introduces himself as Major Egan (which tips his boys off to the fact he's up to something, because Bucky never pulls rank unless some shit is going down).

But he's still an American, so the RAF Lieutenant isn't entirely swayed, until he turns around to face Bucky (because of course he just walked on up behind the boy and he knows he's "a big lad" as that farmer's wife called him, and he enjoys taking people by surprise). RAF Lieutenant is face-to-neck with Bucky who's grinning down at him, and his fellow Brits mutter "No worries, Sir," and that's that.

Towards the end of the war, he's in Europe. Has been there for some time. Got separated from his men and captured by the Germans and still ran through the forest starving and afraid, and almost killed a kid, and faced down a blood thirsty mob and escaped from a pile of dead bodies with brain on his cheek - but he still considers himself lucky. Because he got away and rejoined his men.

And they're looking for POWs - their own and allied men. They've heard about the stalags and the camps and the death marches, and they're doing their bit not to lose a single man. And Bucky, who knows what it's like to be afraid and alone and close to death out here, is zealous about that mission.

They're about a day away from the Danube, when two men stumble upon their unit at night, frozen, shaking, barely able to keep to their feet.

Airmen.

American Airmen.

Bucky barks out orders and opens his canteen and holds it up to the man nearest him. Hair that might have been blonde. Blue eyes - like the song. And he had no idea then and there that he'd just met Gale Cleven, who was going to talk Bucky into doing something very risky and very stupid to save a column full of allied airmen - just because he looked him in the eyes and said softly, "Please, Major. I just left them alone - help me save my men."

It was the first of many, many dumbass things he would do in the name of Gale Cleven.

[nats-bottom]

SJ - Doctor's Office

Summary: Reader has anxiety about going to the doctor's office and Scarlett calms her down and distracts her.

Pairings: Scarlett Johansson and Reader

Warnings: Doctor's office, almost-panic attack, swearing, anxiety and depression mentions, medication mentions.

Notes:

I also have accounts on Wattpad and AO3! The users there are @ paige_vers

Please give me requests! You can submit them here or on my insta, @ scarlettsoutset

ᨖᨖೱᨖ⧗ᨖⴵᨖ🕷️ᨖⴵᨖ⧗ᨖೱᨖᨖ

I dreaded these days. They didn't happen often, but when they did, they always sucked. As soon as I was 16, my mom made me go to all my doctor's appointments by myself. And this year is no different. Even though it's just my yearly check-up, I still get very nervous. What if they find something wrong? What if I'm really sick? I just get all these worries in my head that don't seem to go away. 

My appointment isn't until three in the afternoon, but that's all I can think about. It's currently ten AM, but I'm just pacing around the living room of the house that me and my girlfriend, Scarlett shared. Scarlett was out getting groceries, but she should be back any minute. Then as if on queue, I hear the front door open. Unable to stop my pacing, I keep up my pacing while I hear Scarlett put away the frozens and drop the rest of the bags of groceries on the ground. I feel hands on my shoulders and look up to see Scarlett in front of me. I stop pacing and look into her beautiful, forest green eyes.

"Breathe with me" She says, taking deep breaths in and out. I didn't even realize that I was hyperventilating, but I started to follow her breathing pattern after a few breaths. Once I've calmed down enough, Scarlett takes my hands and sits us down on a couch. "Is it the doctor's appointment?" She asks, almost as if she already knows.

I nod my head, still too shaken up to speak. Her thumbs rub patterns on the back of my hands. I look down at my lap, feeling ashamed for getting all worked up over a simple appointment. 

"Hey, look at me." Scarlett says. I look up at her, worry still written all over my face. "It'll be ok. You'll be perfectly fine and healthy. You eat well, you take care of your skin, you exercise, you have no symptoms. You have nothing to be worried about." 

She lets go of one of my hands and cups my cheek. "Do you want me to go with you?" I nod, still nervous to speak, of fear that my voice might crack. This means a lot to me, as I've been going to these appointments alone for years. This will be the first time I will have gone with someone else besides my mother, and I'm glad it's Scarlett. Even though we have only been together for a year now, I'm glad she cares enough about me to go with me. For my last appointment, Scarlett was away filming. If she was here, I know that she would've come. 

"I've got to go put away the rest of the groceries. Do you want to come help me? It might take your mind off of the appointment." I nod in agreement. Scarlett gets up and gives me a hand of hers to help me get up. I take her hand and walk with her to the kitchen. I start to put away the groceries, and she walks over toward the speaker system. She looks through her phone for a minute, and grins. She turns on the speaker system, and connects her phone, playing my favorite music. Music that she knows I can't resist not dancing and singing to. She walks back over, swaying her hips to the beat, and I watch her, biting my lip. I switch my focus back to the groceries, oblivious to the fact that Scar has now abandoned her task of putting away the groceries and now is dancing along to the music. 

As I put the last few things away, I hum a bit to the music. When I put the last thing away, I actually sing a little bit. Once I am all done, I turn around, and see Scarlett dancing to the music. 

"So that's why I had to put away everything by myself. You-" I boop her nose "Were busy dancing, you cutie."

"Care to join me?" Scarlett says as she outstretches her hand to me. I gladly take it. She twirls me around, and then puts one hand on my hip. She keeps a hold of my other hand, and I put my free hand on her shoulder. We sway to the music as we both sing-shout along to the music.

The next song to come on is a slower song, so we don't shout to the music as much, but instead just sing at a normal volume. She leans in closer to me, nuzzling her head in my neck. Her arm snakes around my back, and mine around her neck. We just sway to the music, holding each other tight and close. 

Once the slow song is over, we let go of each other and start to dance our asses off to the next few songs. That's when I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I check to see what it says, and it's a reminder that my appointment is in one hour. 

I start to panic again, and Scarlett notices. She takes a quick glance at the clock first, realizing the time, and envelopes me in a hug. I hug Scar back, taking in her scent. Her hugs always help me calm down. She pulls back peppers my face in kisses. Once my face has been fully appreciated, she rests her forehead on mine, looking into my eyes. I look back into her sparkling eyes, and let out a sigh. She always knows how to calm me down. 

"Let's go darling." Scarlett says. She knows that if she were to mention the doctor's, that might've made me panic again. She grabs her phone and her keys in one hand, and takes my hand in the other. We walk in silence to the car, where Scarlett opens the door for me and helps me get in. She gets in on her side, and after she starts the car, she connects her phone and continues the same playlist from before.

We both sing along the whole ride there. Once we get there, I'm hesitant to get out, so Scarlett comes over to help me out. She opens my door and undoes my seatbelt for me. She takes my hand, and just stands there, holding it.

"Come on, my love. We can't avoid this forever. You got this. I believe in you. Now let's get this over with." She says lovingly. She takes my hand up to her mouth and kisses my knuckles. 

I eventually get out of the car, and we walk hand in hand to the building and through the doors. I check in at the front desk, and we sit down together. We keep holding hands, and at one point she brings them up to her mouth, kissing the whole back of my hand. She knows this will keep my calm and keep my mind occupied. Before I know it, the door opens and they call out my name.

"y/n?" The nurse said. I get up and look at Scarlett. She is still sitting down, probably expecting to stay out here the entire time.

Still holding her hand, I say "You're coming with me, silly." She shoots me a playful grin, one that always gives me butterflies, and gets up, walking with me to the exam room. 

The nurse ushers me to sit on the exam bed, while he suggests Scarlett sit on one of the chairs that's in the room. "I think I'll stand," Scarlett says, still not letting go of my hand. She helps me get up on the exam bed, and stands next to me, holding my hand with her hand furthest away from me and rubbing my back with her other hand. The nurse takes my vitals, then walks out of the room. We wait a few minutes for the doctor, who eventually comes in.

The doctor comes in and tells me that everything looks normal, and the only thing that needs to be changed are my head meds. These are what me and Scar call my anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds. She gives me a new prescription and tells me to come back next year. 

She leads us to the front desk, where I schedule an appointment for next year. We walk out the car, and as soon as we're both inside, I let out a huge sigh of relief. 

"You did great, sweetie. I'm so very proud of you." Scarlett says, looking at me and resting a hand on my thigh. I put a hand of mine of top of hers, where it stays for the drive home.

[townpostin]

Shaba Alam Ansari Takes Charge As New Jamshedpur DFO

Former Officer Returns To Role, Pledging Continued Forest Conservation Efforts Outgoing DFO Mamta Priyadarshi Highlights Achievements In Forest Protection JAMSHEDPUR – On Friday, Shaba Alam Ansari officially started his role as the Divisional Forest Officer (DFO) for Jamshedpur. He was appointed by the state government. "I am dedicated to carrying on our work in conserving forests and wildlife,"…

[weemssapphic]

adjsfh so i never really send any requests but i really like your writing style so if your requests are still open could you maybe write a smutty piece featuring submissive larissa and dominant fem!reader. the idea i had is maybe fem!reader is some sort of a supervisor that came to the school to write a report on larissa?? and larissa decided to cover up some shady stuff she did by trying to seduce her and it ends up working lol but what she hadn't thought about is that reader is more dominant than her but she ends up actually really liking that??? idk if that's like too specific feel free to add to it or like do a slightly different thing if you don't feel this would work i just want sub!larissa ahahh *slithers back into the void*

hello ahkdhsj thank you so much! i absolutely hope this does your request justice, it's also my first time writing sub!larissa so i'm just gonna post this and slither back into my very own void <3 ao3 link in title as always!

warnings/content: nsfw / pwp, sub!larissa, cunnilingus, fingering, praise kink, feel the need to mention everything is consensual (I hope that comes across)

words: ~4.2k

Dominate Me

You pulled down the long, winding drive leading towards Nevermore Academy, past striking wrought-iron gates, putting your car in park as you reached the visitor’s spots by the entrance. Glancing at the time, you realized you had a few more minutes before your scheduled appointment, so you grabbed the thick manila folder from your passenger seat and leafed through it. You’d already memorized the contents but you thought it best to take another look, to have your facts straight.

You’d been sent by the school board to investigate the principal of Nevermore, Larissa Weems. After the attacks by a “bear” (or whatever that thing out there in the forest was) had left a student in a coma, the school had come under close scrutiny. Some discrepancies had come to light regarding the earlier disappearance of another student and, well, it didn’t bode well for Nevermore - nor for Principal Weems, who appeared to be at the center of the cover-up.

Confident you were ready to face the formidable woman, whom you’d already heard so much about and whom you had to admit you were more than a little intrigued by, you stuffed the folder into your purse and stepped out of your car.

A cool breeze whipped at your face as you ascended the steps to Nevermore’s imposing entrance, pushing open the doors and searching the entry hall for a hint on which way to go.

Quickly spotting a young girl with blonde hair sporting a school uniform, you waved out a hand and stopped her in her tracks. She eyed you curiously.

“Hi, I was wondering if you could point me to Principal Weems' office?” You smiled at the girl, hoping she wouldn’t be too intimidated. She smiled back rather timidly and nodded, saying “yeah, sure” as she guided you down several hallways towards a pair of wood-paneled double doors, adorned with a shiny gold plaque that read “Principal Weems” in an elegant font.

You thanked the girl and checked your watch. Right on time. Taking one last steadying breath, you raised your fist and knocked.

– –

Larissa paced the length of her office, furious that her already busy afternoon was soon to be interrupted by the likes of some school board supervisor who was surely going to try to discredit all the hard work she’d put into Nevermore. She’d spent so many years putting her entire heart and soul into the school - she wasn’t going to let just anybody come in and tear it down. No, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. She had a reputation to uphold.

A knock on her door had Larissa nearly jumping out of her skin. She smoothed her skirt and checked her lipstick in the reflection of her cell phone, before click-clacking her way to the door to let in the visitor.

She was prepared for anything. She knew her story well - she’d rehearsed it at least a dozen times by now. And if all else failed? The art of seduction would always be on her side. Smoothing a hand over her hair and plastering on her best fake smile, she opened the door to her office.

– – 

The doors to Principal Weems’ office opened and you were almost taken aback at the woman standing before you. You’d heard much about her reputation - strong, unyielding, a woman to be revered and even feared. But what had failed to reach your ears was that she was also stunning, impossibly so. She was attractively tall, with silvery curls pulled back into an elaborate updo, accentuating a long neck and smooth, high cheekbones, lips painted a rich shade of crimson…

Your admiration, however, was cut short as she peered down at you with sapphire eyes, clearly waiting for you to speak, lips pursing ever so slightly.

“Uh, hello, Principal Weems. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, from the school board. I believe we have an appointment.” You reached out your hand for the woman to shake. Her hand was warm to the touch, soft, and you had to suppress a shiver at the contact.

“Yes, of course, please come in.” Larissa gestured for you to enter and shut the door behind you. You thought you heard the faint click of a lock, though you couldn’t be sure, so you brushed it off as a trick of the imagination and waited for Larissa to guide you to one of the leather armchairs opposite her desk.

“So what brings you here today?” The blonde smiled warmly as she sat in her own chair, placing her elbows on her desk and resting her chin on her palm.

You raised an eyebrow at her before rifling through the contents of your bag and pulling out your folder. “I believe the school board informed you why I’ve been called to come by? It should have been mentioned in the letter you received on March 1st.” 

Larissa pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Yes, I received your letter.”

“Good. Then let’s cut right to the chase and start at the beginning, shall we? There was a student attending Nevermore, Rowan Laslow. His disappearance was reported to you by a Miss Wednesday Addams after the Harvest Festival in Jericho, is that correct?” You eyed the principal carefully for any tells - any signs of anxiety or deceit.

What you saw, though, was mostly agitation marring the principal’s gorgeous features. “Yes, that is correct.”

“Though you claim he hadn’t disappeared at all?”

“Funnily enough, he turned up again the next day,” Larissa batted her eyelashes and cocked her head to the side, her lips turning up into a smile - it wasn’t exactly a warm smile, though, there was something decidedly bitter about it.

“Well, funnily enough, Principal Weems, his parents claim he never did return home.” You gave the principal a smile of your own, curious what the woman would say now.

Larissa stood from where she was sitting and rounded the desk, perching on the edge of it just in front of your chair. You couldn’t help the wandering of your eyes up her form, trailing over her exposed calves, the area around her stomach where her skirt bunched up just a little bit, the pale, tender flesh between her exposed collarbones.

She smirked at you, your ogling not lost on her.

“Unfortunately, what that boy does when he leaves campus is none of my concern - he was expelled, after all. And do call me Larissa, darling.” Larissa’s voice had dropped several octaves since she’d last spoken, causing a wave of desire to wash over your core.

You rose from your chair, gaining yourself some leverage in the situation. “Do you care so little for your former students?” You stepped closer to her, until there were mere inches between your bodies.

Larissa’s pupils widened imperceptibly. “I’m not sure I like what you’re insinuating. But Rowan was a danger to this school and all of its pupils, and keeping him here was far too dangerous. If he chose to run away from his parents, well… that’s on him, I’m afraid…”

Larissa’s lips ghosted yours, her breath warm on your face. 

“You think you can seduce me into writing you a glowing report, Larissa?” Your lips brushed hers, hands coming gently to her waist, allowing your fingertips to rub against the fabric there.

Larissa’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip. The tables were suddenly flipping on her - moments before she’d been in control, well on her way to, well, seducing you into giving her a glowing report for the school board. And now here you were, trying to take that control away from her. She wasn’t used to being dominated - usually she was the one with the power, the one calling the shots.

She could only shake her head feebly and feel the smile that spread across your lips as they connected with hers. Her lips were soft, warm, inviting. You spread her legs apart so that you could push one of your thighs between them, reveling in the moan that tore from her throat at the action. It reverbated against your own lips and had you swiping your tongue at her bottom lip, a silent plea for entry. Larissa parted her lips and allowed you to explore the contours of her mouth, as your hands moved to her clothed thighs.

Larissa whimpered into your mouth as your right hand slipped under her skirt and trailed along the inside of her thigh. Her center radiated heat and you couldn’t help the guttural moan that bubbled forth from your chest as you felt how damp her panties were.

You pulled back, regarding the woman in front of you with awe. Larissa’s cheeks were pink, her lipstick smudged, her chest heaving.

Her brows furrowed, little creases appearing on her forehead as she narrowed her eyes. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” She tried to sound indignant but failed, only managing to sound extremely turned on as your thigh pressed further into her center.

“You’re an attractive woman, Larissa,” you met her gaze, quirking an eyebrow and watching as her cheeks darkened considerably. You took her chin between your fingers. “I’m going to worship you the way you deserve it. Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

You smirked as Larissa’s mouth fell open, her blush now extending from her chest to the tips of her ears. An interesting reaction to your praise. You’d have to file that away for later. “Tell me you don’t want it and I’ll stop. Tell me to leave and I’ll go without another word, it won’t affect the report.” You needed Larissa to know she had a choice in the matter.

Larissa’s eyes searched yours for a moment, finding nothing but honesty and a mad desire to bring her mind-numbing, all-consuming pleasure. “I want it,” she confirmed.

“The door is locked?”

“Y-yes,” Larissa looked to the ground, rather sheepishly.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” you cooed. “It’s just us. Now where was I?” You grazed the backs of your knuckles over the fabric covering Larissa’s core, a sinful moan dripping from her lips as her head lolled back. 

“P-please,” Larissa’s voice was low and shaky.

“Please what?” You knew what she wanted, of course you did, but you sure as hell weren’t going to make this easy for the woman.

“Please… fuck me.” Larissa’s gaze, pleading and famished, met yours, and you were happy to oblige her request.

You hooked your fingers around her underwear and slid them down her legs, planting kisses along the tender flesh of her thighs and the smooth, solid muscles of her calves as you followed them down. Discarding the underwear, you knelt before Larissa so that your head was level with her sex, suppressing a moan as you saw how wet she was for you, her cunt glistening.

Flattening your tongue, you licked a path through her folds, starting at her entrance and working your way to her clit. Larissa’s hips bucked forward and you felt a hand settle in your hair, pressing your face roughly into her cunt.

You pulled back, arching an eyebrow at the high-pitched whine you received in return. “Did I say you could touch?” Larissa’s hand dropped rather pathetically from your head and she flushed, a mixture of irritation, shame, and lust swirling in her pupils.

“Come here, gorgeous,” you cooed, reaching out a hand to Larissa for her to take as your other hand worked at the buttons of your shirt, unbuttoning them one by one at a tantalizing pace.

Larissa’s eyes were glued to your cleavage as you led her to the loveseat in front of her fireplace. You shed yourself of the button-up and guided Larissa onto her back, dragging her skirt down her legs and leaving little scratches with your nails on the flesh of her thighs as you did so.

Larissa’s hands found purchase on your own waist, pulling you in for a searing kiss. It didn’t last long, however, as you pushed yourself up and grabbed hold of her wrists, pinning them above Larissa’s head in a swift motion - you didn’t have anything to tie her up with so this would have to do. Your grip was loose but firm, wanting to provide Larissa an out while showing her who was in charge. Her pupils dilated, chest heaving as she squirmed beneath you.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me now?” Larissa seemed to fight beneath you for a moment, each of her sapphire eyes flicking between yours, breathing coming out in shallow puffs as she twisted in your grip. Slowly, her movements stilled and she nodded, cheeks dusted pink.

“Talk to me, love. Is this okay?” One of your hands held her wrists in place as the other came to cup her cheek, thumb brushing against her bottom lip. Larissa mewled, leaning into the touch.

“Y-yes, it’s okay,” she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I’m going to let go of your hands, okay? And you’re going to leave them up there - no touching unless I tell you to.” You waited for Larissa’s nod beneath you before dipping your hands under the hem of Larissa’s top and finding her bra.

You slipped your hands behind Larissa’s back, expertly unhooking the offending garment and pushing it aside before working to remove her top and latching your mouth onto her nipple, sucking at the already hardened bud as your hand began to palm the pillowy flesh of her other breast.

You switched sides, ensuring no side would feel neglected as you nipped and sucked at her chest, feeling how Larissa began to squirm beneath you as your tongue soothed over the little marks you left on her skin. 

“Patience,” you chuckled, throwing Larissa a mischievous grin as you unbuttoned and removed your own slacks. Dark eyes roved over your body as you settled between her thighs, now clad only in your underwear.

You paused for a moment, drinking in the woman before you. The smooth, milky expanse of her thighs, coated in her glistening arousal, legs bent at the knee and dropped open for you. The pink flush of her heaving chest, moving in time with her ragged breaths. The soft flesh of her stomach and breasts, covered in goosebumps, nipples erect. Her long arms extended over her head, just as you had asked of her.

And that face - my god, that face. Eyes you could get lost in, staring down at you wantonly through mascara-coated lashes, batting against her high cheekbones, flushed with desire. Painted lips which had long since been smeared, parted slightly in question as you regarded her. An angel in human form.

“You are so gorgeous.” Your admission brought a fresh blush to Larissa’s cheeks. “You’re going to look so beautiful for me when I make you come.”

Larissa’s subsequent moan spurred you on as you ran a teasing finger through her folds, gathering up her arousal. You brought the finger to Larissa’s lips and she sucked it into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and groaning. She released the digit with a pop that caused a fresh wave of desire to pool at your core.

“So wet for me already, hmm?”

Larissa practically purred beneath you. “God, please, please touch me.”

The low timbre of her voice spurred on your own arousal and as you brought your fingers back to Larissa’s cunt, you straddled her thigh to provide your clit with some much-needed friction.

You circled her clit with the pads of your fingers once, twice, before plunging two digits into her dripping center, moaning at the way her walls immediately began to draw you in. You began a steady pace inside of the blonde, curling your fingers into her sweet spot, creating pressure around her clit with the heel of your palm.

Larissa bucked her hips upwards with every thrust of your fingers, creating a delicious friction against your own cunt with her thigh. Your soaked panties rubbed against her skin and you rolled your hips in time with your thrusts, hissing as the seam of your panties rubbed against your throbbing clit.

She spread her legs wider, inviting your fingers deeper into her cunt. You added another finger, feeling her walls clench slightly. You could feel how close she was as her thighs began to tremble and she seemed to have trouble keeping her arms above her head as she writhed and squirmed.

– – 

Meanwhile, Larissa was coming undone beneath you. She had no idea what had compelled her to follow your orders, and it should have been easy to simply take back the control and force you into submission. But some part of her couldn’t help but to be intrigued by you, the way you took control of the situation. She found it (and you, if she was being honest with herself) extremely attractive, and relinquishing her dominance might just be exactly what she needed.

Larissa dropped her thighs open, as wide as they could go, a loud moan escaping her lips as you added a third finger. She wanted so badly to reach out and touch you as she watched you fuck her, and fuck yourself on her thigh. She could feel how wet you were for her through your underwear and the thought drove her wild.

A particularly sharp thrust of your fingers had Larissa crying out, eyes rolling back into her head. She could faintly hear you whispering praises past the ringing in her ears and her entire body felt like it was ablaze. She’d never had a lover shower her with praise before and the thought of being someone’s “good girl”, of being your “good girl”, brought her over the edge. 

– – 

“You’re doing so well for me.” You smirked down at Larissa, watching as she panted and writhed beneath you, thighs still trembling from her first orgasm. “You think I’m done with you, pretty girl?”

Your own cunt throbbed with desire as you abandoned your seat on her thigh, still not quite having reached your own orgasm but dying for another taste of the intoxicating blonde.

You trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses up the inside of Larissa’s right thigh, then her left, stopping just shy of her center each time. You kissed the blonde patch of curls at Larissa’s mound, breath ghosting just over her clit. The woman let out a needy whimper, shifting her hips in a desperate attempt to get closer to you.

You dragged your tongue through her slit, finally latching onto her clit and drawing lazy circles around the sensitive bud with your tongue. You moaned at the taste of her, a heavenly mixture of tangy and sweet, the vibrations of your moan against her cunt causing Larissa’s hips to tilt upwards, pressing herself into your mouth.

“That’s it, gorgeous. Fuck, you taste good.” You continued to lap up the juices that flowed from Larissa’s center, barely able to contain your smile at the way she rolled her hips into your mouth. You hooked your hands around her thighs, dragging her as close as you could, burying yourself in her.

“C-can I…” Larissa’s voice trailed off into a breathy groan as your tongue dipped unexpectedly  into her entrance.

“Can you…?” You looked up at her in question, your eyes meeting hers, clouded with the lust of her impending orgasm. 

“Can I touch you?” Her voice was almost timid as her arms twitched above her head.

“Yes,” you grinned at the sigh that escaped Larissa’s lips as she brought her hands to your hair, fingers weaving into your locks, pushing you gently but insistently back down to her pussy. You obliged, lapping at her core as her thighs tightened around your head. Her moans were muffled, punctuated with sharp pains on your scalp as long fingers wound themselves tighter into your hair. Your lips never left her clit, tongue flicking languidly as you brought her down from her high.

Her legs released you from their iron-grip and you finally felt like you could breathe again. You cleaned her up with your tongue, pressing sweet kisses to the insides of her thighs and trailing up her body - her hips, her stomach, the swell of her breasts, her throat, finally capturing her lips, which curled up into a blissed out smile at the contact.

“You’re amazing, Larissa,” you whispered, relishing the feeling of her overheated skin pressed against your own. The feeling of her nipples poking at your bare skin, the taste of her arousal still fresh on your tongue, the sound of her breathing - heavy but evening out - were all doing nothing to quell the embers glowing in the pit of your own stomach. Every nerve-ending in your body was alive, raw to the touch.

“I regret to inform you, however…” you trailed off, taking Larissa’s wrist in your hand and guiding her between your legs. “That I am still very turned on by you, my darling.” Larissa’s pupils widened as you pressed her fingers against your center - warm, wet, aching.

“Think you can take care of that for me?” At Larissa’s feverish nod, you pulled her up with you.

“Get on your knees.” The blonde slid onto the floor in front of you and folded her legs underneath her, waiting for further instruction. “Help me with these?” You shifted your hips as Larissa hooked her fingers around your underwear and dragged it down your legs. 

Larissa suppressed a groan when she saw how wet you were for her. You brought your fingers down to your clit, amused at the rapt attention with which Larissa watched as you began to finger yourself. 

“Think you can put that gorgeous mouth of yours to good use?” You smirked down at Larissa, who didn’t need to be told twice as she placed her palms on your knees, spreading your legs as she settled her head between your thighs. She wasted no time in flattening her tongue against your sex, running it up your slit until she found your throbbing bud. Your hands found purchase in her curls, neither of you caring that you were ruining her perfectly coiffed updo as you pushed yourself into her, fucking yourself on her face.

“I’m so close,” you panted. “Fuck- you look so good fucking me, you’re being s-so good for me.” Larissa moaned into you and your nails dug into her scalp, your hips canting upwards rhythmically to meet her face. 

Your arousal dripped down Larissa’s chin as she picked up her pace against your cunt. The coil in your abdomen was winding tighter and tighter and as Larissa’s tongue began to tease at your entrance, dipping into your core, you felt yourself begin to come undone. Her thumb came up to brush against your clit, determined to prolong your pleasure as stars began to explode behind your eyes.

Once you had steadied your breathing, you leaned down, capturing Larissa’s lips for a sweet kiss, your own taste still fresh on her tongue. 

You offered your arms out to the woman. She seemed hesitant, but ultimately allowed you to pull her half onto your lap, her head on your chest, your fingertips tracing soothing patterns over the smooth expanse of her back. She didn’t seem like the type who often (ever?) relinquished control, so you were happy to give her a few seconds to ground herself.

You nuzzled your face into Larissa’s hair, almost involuntarily - she smelled of peonies and jasmine, soft and feminine, a heavenly combination. Her breathing began to even out against the bare skin of your chest and you couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped your lips.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, Larissa,” you murmured into her hair.

Larissa peered up at you, an eyebrow quirked up in mock-offense. “Do I seem like the type?”

You grinned. “Not at all. I should be going though. I do hope you didn’t have any other meetings lined up after mine.” You nodded towards the clock on the wall.

Larissa’s eyes followed yours and a groan fell from her lips.

“Try not to act too disappointed. Against my expectations, I rather enjoyed our meeting.” Larissa couldn’t have looked more adorable in that moment if she’d tried - cheeks pink, curls falling into wide eyes, teeth worrying her bottom lip. “It - it did take a rather unexpected turn. I can’t say I’m disappointed at the outcome… That is, unless…?”

“You mean the report? As far as I’m concerned, Rowan simply… How did you put it? Ran away?” Your smirk widened at the relieved smile you received from the principal.

Larissa eased herself from the couch, reaching for her clothes and dressing herself. You followed suit, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the blonde’s bare skin. After combing through your hair and wiping away remnants of Larissa’s lipstick from your face, you gathered up your belongings and headed towards the doors, Larissa on your heels to see you out. 

As Larissa began to ease the door open, you turned to meet her gaze. 

“You might want to, you know,” you gestured to the smudge of crimson that stained her chin. Comprehension dawned on her face, followed by a mischievous smirk as she leaned down to match your height, planting a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“Yeah, you too,” she gestured to the lipstick mark she’d just left behind.

With a chuckle and a shake of your head, you bid the principal goodbye and walked back to your car, wondering just how you would convince the school board to send you back to Nevermore again.

-

thank you to @afeatherformills and @scumppa for beta-reading <3 and tagging @orchidsshine and @sapphicsbeloved bc i think i remember you guys asking to be tagged in things but also correct me if i'm wrong hehe

[scottishcommune]

Toby Shone is an anarchist who was imprisoned in Wandsworth, Bristol and G4S Prison Parc for nearly two years, accused of being the administrator of counter-information project 325.nostate.net. After the political prosecution failed and the cops had to drop the case 5 days before trial in October 2021, Toby received a sentence of 3 years 9 months for possession of psychedelic medicines. He was released on 28 December 2022 under heavy restrictions (license conditions), oversight by a multi-agency team (MAPPA) including the National Security Division (counter-terror) and forced to live in a filthy bail hostel in Gloucester for 9 months. He had just moved back into a flat in the Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire 9 days ago. On the morning of 19 September 2023, he was driving to an appointment with his probation officer when he was pulled over and arrested by an armed police unit between the Forest of Dean and Gloucester. He was taken to HMP Bristol. He is awaiting more detailed information, but his legal team say that the allegations are that he breached two of his license conditions: being in possession of an [unauthorised] phone and attending a meeting in Bristol in August. Toby is in great spirits as ever and requests letters and books. ■ Please write to him at: Toby Shone A7645EP HMP Bristol 19 Cambridge Road Bishopston Bristol BS7 8PS

[popjunkie42]

The Thief and the Rake

Chapter Four - Say You’ll Remember Me

Read on AO3

Summary: A simple promenade at Kensington Gardens turns quite eventful as the sisters Archeron make several new acquaintances.

Thank you to @witch-and-her-witcher for the beta read!!

Chapter under the cut:

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– •

Five days, and no constables had shown up at the door.

Plenty of gentlemen, though. Every morning a flurry of tea and sugary pastries and fine cravats tucked into collars attached to suitors - some blushing, some blustering, some arrogant or boorish. Feyre had sat with them, along with her sisters, smiling and silent until her eye twitched and she longed for her stained boots and a trek through the forest.

After they left, Elain cooed over the gifts until Nesta descended on them with an unsentimental eye. Any present from someone deemed unworthy was passed to Feyre, destined for the pawn shop or street corner. A cycle to put new coins in the fingers of the modiste.

Yesterday, the sisters had turned an extravagant bouquet into the two fine parasols Elain and Nesta now sported as the sisters ambled through Kensington Garden.

Taking part in a promenade in the gardens — a place to see and be seen, which seemed antithetical to Feyre’s own goals for the next few months. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of fresh air and green would do her good.

The breeze was gentle and the air was warm with the first rays of the spring sun. Though the grass was still dull, the trees were full of singing birds, the first buds of flowers and new leaves making an appearance.

And everyone who was anyone in London was out in force.

The park was littered with color — parasols and skirts spread out on the ground on woven blankets, the parties partaking in fine picnics.

Today, spring threatened to truly break free on the city like a wild storm as everyone flocked to the fresh air of the pristine gardens.

Like all things in the city, it took some getting used to. Feyre trailed behind her sisters with their new parasols, observing.

Nesta had been using their time wisely, and after the finely polished shoes of gentlemen callers stepped from their door, she was deep in research. Which seemed to be a mix of scouring newspapers and gossip columns, even so far as her making an appointment at the register’s office to check on the title and holdings of several gentlemen.

The missions she dragged Elain and Feyre on were much more pleasant. The market, tea at a cafe, and desserts at a chocolaterie. At each site, Feyre watched with a mild sense of awe as Nesta set her trap.

It was Elain, sweet and smiling, who drew in the members of the ton like bees to a flower. Young women came: some bashful and polite, others calculating and clawed, sizing up their competition. Gentlemen of all ages approached, drawn by the light of Elain’s radiant smile.

Elain welcomed and soothed them. Nesta waited for the right moment to sink in her claws, using a mix of flattery and what seemed to Feyre to be veiled threats to tease out information and garner invitations.

Feyre tried to drink her tea in a genteel way that would avoid a death glare from her eldest sister. At least the sweets were delicious enough to make the trip worthwhile.

When was the last time she had tasted such delightful confections? She could hardly recall, and by the dreamy look in even Nesta’s eye, she imagined her sisters couldn’t either.

With every bite, that cold cottage moved farther and farther away, into the realm of forgotten nightmares.

It was odd, seeing the stiff dresses and layered suits and shining dress shoes here in this flourishing garden. But although the hedges were trimmed and the grounds managed with a firm gardener’s eye, Feyre could smell the dirt and the green down to her bones.

The desire to slip off her shoes and socks and let her feet sink into the grass threatened to overwhelm her.

She could tie up her skirts and wade into the pond, searching for something to roast over a fire, the way Lucien had taught her. Afterwards she could curl up under the trailing leaves of that willow tree, sleeping behind its curtains and on a soft bed of leaves and petals. Alone and free, away from wandering eyes, finally taking a deep breath for the first time all week.

Instead, her tight, pinching shoes scraped against the gravel path. The sisters walked slowly, on display, eyes turning to watch them as they passed.

A cool breeze kicked up, and the scent of grass and new blossoms filled her nose. Feyre closed her eyes and pretended they weren’t surrounded by sneers and curious looks. Imagined fecund spring in the forest, bringing a full belly and the witnessed magic of growing things, waking after winter. She imagined resting in the crook of her favorite tree…

And ran straight into someone.

Someone as unyielding as a tree trunk. Feyre hadn’t a moment to think as she tumbled backwards towards the ground, panic at another silly faux pas flaring in her gut, until broad, warm hands were on her, holding her suspended in the air. Her eyes flew open and a cry was in her mouth – an apology, an accusation — she didn’t know, until the words died on her lips.

Standing over her was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.

And he was grinning, grinning like a cheshire cat.

”Hello, darling. Looks like I’ve finally caught you.”

Every hair on her body stood up at attention, and she froze like a doe staring down an arrow.

That voice…

The man’s blue eyes, so vibrant they were nearly purple, seemed to twinkle as they watched the panic flash across her face. Eyes like sparkling violet sapphires that were locked in her dresser drawer. His grin only grew, the whites of his teeth looking vicious. That slightly feral look of pleasure so incongruous with his aristocratic looks: his hair blue-black and brushed back from his face, skin kissed by the sun, high, sharp cheekbones and a distinguished Roman nose.

Hello, darling.

Against her will, she felt a tightening in her gut, her body recalling that graveled purr against her ear under the moonlight.

Her feet threatened to slip from under her, her body itching to bolt, but his hands still held her firm, one banded around her waist and another wrapped tightly around her bicep in a strange pantomime of a dance.

Panic rose within her and set her blood boiling.

She was trapped in his arms. He was going to call the constable. He was going to haul her in to the Magistrate on Bow Street. Everyone would see. Including her sisters, who she had failed at the very first instance. And the penalty for stealing from the aristocracy…a noose, not a necklace, around her neck.

She opened her mouth, to plead, to bargain when —

“Rhys? Who is this?”

Maybe when she had closed her eyes she had stumbled into a fairytale. Standing behind her captor was a glowing goddess of a woman, her blond hair in loose curls cascading down her back, contrasting with a blood-red dress and an embroidered gold jacket Feyre knew she could never steal enough to afford.

But the woman’s face was kind, if a bit perplexed, as she fixed Feyre with her soft brown eyes and a smile.

Feyre’s mouth could only open, then hinge shut. A fish caught on a line.

The man, confident enough that she was in too much of a state of shock to run, pulled her back to standing, releasing his grip from her waist, something wild and dangerous sparking in his eyes.

After too long of a silence, he finally chimed in with that deep, sonorous voice that sent shivers down her skin. “This lady attended our ball. We met, briefly, but I unfortunately didn’t merit a proper introduction.”

“Ah. Well, I’m Lady Morrigan.” Another gentleman, obviously of nobility, stepped up beside her, a brow raised in amused confusion at the odd scene. “And this is Grand Duke Nolan, our guest for the week as he takes in the sights.”

Feyre looked ahead to see her sisters far beyond her, having not even noticed she wasn’t behind them anymore. She was on her own and unable to squeak out a single word.

“And –”

“Please, call me Rhys.”

Feyre stiffened, sure he was mocking her. Her annoyance lead her to her voice.

“That doesn’t seem entirely proper, sir.”

Lady Morrigan was smiling, her face bright and open like the summer sun. “My cousin is the Viscount Sterling, although he hates to stand on ceremony most days.”

Sterling…Sterling…the ball…

Oh, God. He was the host. Of course he was, Feyre thought, cursing her sluggish mind. A Viscount, the owner of that grand manor, that could house her village and feed them all with the forgotten jewelry pillowed in dust.

His smile was a fiendish slash across his handsome features.

“Has my name stolen your voice away, lady, or can we be properly introduced?”

Feyre cursed the aristocracy, the King, the insufferable rules of society that were going to force her to politely give her name up to the man she had robbed. All moisture had left her mouth and amidst the cold fear in her stomach, a momentary thought that she would love nothing more than to claw that insufferable smile off of his face with her fingernails.

“Feyre Archeron,” she managed to rasp.

“Miss Feyre Archeron,” the Viscount repeated after her, each syllable rolled gently in his mouth. Like he was mocking her. Like he was dictating out the conviction himself. Feyre shivered. “I look forward to furthering our acquaintance, Miss Archeron.”

She was utterly fucked.

“And are you here with your family?” The Grand Duke asked, seeming bored, the opposite of the Viscount’s hawk-eyed lock on her, as he scanned the park while his cane sunk further into the wet grass.

Her gaze traveled again to her sisters, now chatting with a gentleman in the shade, their great concern for her evident.

“I’m here with my sisters. We’re…new. To London.”

The Duke and the Viscount shared a glance between them that set off warning bells in Feyre’s chest. “What a lovely family of sisters,” Graysen said, eyes drifting to them as Elain’s musical laugh traveled across the breeze. “We would be remiss in not showing new arrivals about the place.”

“An excellent notion.” Horrifyingly, the Viscount extended an arm to Feyre, who regarded it like a dead fish.

“You seem to be unsteady on your feet, darling. Please, allow me.”

In a daze, Feyre took his arm, feeling the hand he clasped over her own like irons.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– •

Nesta’s eyes went wide only for a moment when Feyre introduced the Lady, Viscount and Grand Duke she had reeled in somehow, entirely against her will. Any excitement on her sister’s part would soon be dashed when the Viscount revealed her crimes.

”I hope my little sister has not caused you too much trouble.”

Feyre’s face heated against the accusation. She had, but Nesta needn’t point it out.

Elain, as always, swept in with polite grace. “We so enjoyed the ball on Sunday, my Lord. It was our first and I’m afraid it will be difficult for the rest of the season to be any grander.”

The Viscount bowed his head, a single errant lock of hair springing free to brush over his forehead. He still held Feyre’s hand against his arm, a firm and unyielding grip even as she tried every few minutes to tug it free. Maybe he would promenade her straight to the gallows, smiles and politeness the whole way.

”You’re too kind, Miss Elain. I’m delighted to hear it swept you off your feet.” His eyes, his smile was on Feyre again, and she wondered if he could feel the rapid beat of her heart in her fingertips.

”Come, ladies, the Viscount and I were just saying we would be poor hosts if we didn’t show newcomers the sights of the city.” The Grand Duke extended a gloved hand. “Miss Elain, might I do the honor of showing you the gardens?”

Elain, blushing pink, gently took his outstretched arm, the picture of a perfectly demure lady.

Feyre gave a final, useless tug of her fingers against the Viscount’s grip. This time, she scowled openly as his eyes slid to her.

”Miss Nesta?” Lady Morrigan seemed to pick up on whatever social undercurrents were sliding through this strange new gathering. “I positively love your dress. You must give me the name of your modiste.”

Nesta blinked once, twice, eyeing the Lady’s obviously fine wardrobe of silks and brocade, worth all three of their outfits combined. “I doubt you’ll find them to your liking, lady, but if you insist,” and she turned away to stalk after Elain. Feyre couldn’t find it in her to cringe at her sister’s dismissal, her heart still racing at an unnatural pace.

Lady Morrigan turned back to the Viscount with eyebrows raised. Some look was shared between them, the soft unspoken language of family passing back and forth. Her brown eyes flickered between her cousin and Feyre, and with a light sigh, she smiled and took off after Nesta.

They were alone.

The first few steps down the path in silence were unbearable. But Feyre didn’t know how to begin a polite conversation, much less one with a powerful lord who might ruin her life in the next five minutes.

Fortunately, the Viscount did.

”I am so glad we ran into each other, Miss Archeron. I was quite put out we weren’t introduced at the ball. After I changed my outfit and choked up a lung full of dust, I spent the rest of the night searching for your lovely face amongst the crowd.”

The stream of obscenities passing through Feyre’s mind would make any lady faint.

”I’m sorry, my Lord. I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.”

”Oh?” His voice was all amusement.

”I…was lost.” Fuck, fuck, fuck.

”How unfortunate. The summer manor is rather large. However, I’m afraid a rather valuable item was also lost after your quick departure.”

Oh.

“Perhaps you’d like to try another story? This path does go on for several miles. Although I will say, when push comes to shove, I can be quite susceptible to lies when they come from a pretty mouth such as yours.”

Feyre scoffed, remembering Elain’s words from Lucien. Rake, philanderer, untrustworthy aristocrat. Right. And apparently, a shameless flirt.

“My lord, your language is awfully familiar for having just made my acquaintance. Is this how you usually speak to ladies?”

“Only those who have swept me off my feet. Quite literally, I mean.”

She stopped abruptly, unable to bite back the panic transforming into anger inside her throat. “What do you want, my lord?”

That same insufferable smirk. “I think you know exactly what I want, Miss Archeron.”

“It’s long gone.”

They had stopped, Mor and Nesta’s prying ears moving far past them.

Something hard gleamed in his eyes then, a marked change from the cat toying with a mouse. “If that’s true, I’m afraid it’s quite unfortunate. There will have to be an inquiry, and I will spare no expense to make sure every corner is searched, every guest investigated, until that necklace is returned to me.”

Feyre willed her expression to ice.

“I suppose,” he said, turning to pick a flower petal off of his inky dark jacket, “that if it were to be returned to me before, say, the Churchill ball this Saturday, it would appear to not be a theft, but rather a short term loan, and one satisfyingly concluded.” He smiled. “In fact, I would be rather thrilled that it could be appreciated by such a fine lady such as yourself.”

Feyre ground her teeth. To return the necklace, to botch her very first job – Smith could turn her in himself, or smear her name with any rumors he chose. Without recommendations, or a reputation among future clientele, she’d be lost before they even began.

“I –”

As Feyre opened her mouth, a familiar cry echoed across the pathway and between the trees.

“Elain!” Feyre whipped her head around to find her sister.

Dress in the mud, face half in her hands, Elain was lying on the grass, still clutching the Grand Duke’s arm. But when she tried to pull herself up onto her leg, she cried out again, crumpling down into the grass.

Feyre ran, finally ripping her arm free of the Viscount’s grip, passing Nesta as she hiked up her skirts, falling into the mud and grass beside her sister.

“Are you hurt?”

The Grand Duke kneeled beside the sisters but Feyre didn’t notice him at all, her eyes locked to the ashen pale face of Elain, pinched in pain.

“I think — my ankle,” she said with a quiet grimace.

“Please, my lady. Do not try to get up. We must let you take weight off of it, and ascertain if it is broken.”

Feyre glared at the Grand Duke, somehow all poise and calm even kneeing in the mud from last night’s rain.

Nesta’s hand was a leaden weight on Feyre’s shoulder, and the youngest finally observed the small crowd of ladies and gentlemen gathered around them, gawking.

Elain noticed too, and Nesta’s fingers dug further into Feyre’s skin as their middle sister’s face went from pale to blush to pale again as she scrambled against Graysen’s arm.

“Please, it’s no trouble, if I could only get to my feet we can move on —”

“Miss, I served in His Majesty’s navy, I’ve seen many injuries. We must get you to a doctor and you must promise me not to put an ounce of weight on it until you’re given permission to do so.”

“I…”

The duke caught Elain’s chin with a single finger, tilting her face upwards to him, a frustrated tear escaping from her eye.

“Promise me, Miss Elain. I will not be gainsaid when it comes to the wellbeing of a young lady under my care.”

Feyre did not think the new blush spreading on Elain’s cheek was from embarrassment.

She watched as her sister sniffled once and then nodded her eyes locked on the Duke’s.

“My phaeton, then. I will take you to Doctor Fitzwilliam.”

Elain gasped as Duke Graysen swept her into his arms in a smooth motion, lifting her out of the mud as if she weighed no more than an errant leaf.

“Graysen, is that wise? We should call upon the girl’s parents at least. Does your phaeton have room for more of you? I’m sure she does not wish to be alone.”

In the fray, the Viscount and his cousin had caught up, joining the murmuring crowd surrounding them and watching the spectacle. Elain was a dark shade of red as she turned her head towards the Grande Duke’s shoulder, ladies tittering around them.

“I can take one more in the carriage.”

Feyre’s heart dropped slightly as Elain reached out and clung to Nesta’s hand.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she whispered, her face torn between mortification and excitement, the words low enough for only her sisters to hear. “I really did slip.”

“Come, Miss Elain, Miss Nesta. We’ll be at the doctor’s in only a few moments.”

His long legs carried them away quickly, Nesta pulled along by the tether of Elain’s hand.

It took a moment for Feyre to feel their absence. The crowd of onlookers was still around them, now staring at her. She looked down at her dress — cleaned and pristine and white this morning — now slathered with mud up her entire left side, green grass stains across her knees.

Alone. She was alone. Aunt Ripleigh was sending a carriage for them but that wasn’t until after lunch…

A firm hand caught her wrist as she went to push the hair out of her face, disheveled and pulled out of her braid. Her eyes snapped to the Viscount.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at her fingers, which she only now realized were dripping in mud.

Her face heated as the crowd fell away slowly. She couldn’t seem to go a day, not even an hour without some humiliating moment in front of the whole ton.

“Might I escort you home, Miss Archeron?”

Feyre let all of her ire, embarrassment and panic enter her glare at him. He was everything working against her now — him and his thoughtless wealth and title, the knowledge of her failures hung over her, now quite literal as she stood before him, filthy and abandoned.

Instead of answering, she stalked off towards the grand gates of the park.

Chest heaving and her face flush, Feyre walked quickly to outrun her own panic. It felt like even the trees and hedges had eyes, watching her stalk away.

But better to cause a small scandal than let him drag her to the Magistrate the moment she was in his carriage. She would rather walk the gauntlet of the whole ton in her soiled dress than make it easy for him to ruin her, to be led into his trap like a demure and bridled beast.

“—eyre.”

Blood was rushing in her ears. Feyre huffed, skirts in hand, working her muscles hard as black creeped at the edges of her vision. Muscles she was afraid of losing, losing herself, becoming trapped in this place, or worse, a prison cell.

“Miss Feyre!”

She whirled as a hand was placed on her shoulder, but instead of violet eyes and a smirk, only the concerned face of Lady Morrigan met her.

“Miss Feyre, please. I know we’ve only just met, but you’ve had quite a shock. Please, let me fetch the carriage and see you home safely.”

Feyre turned to see the figure of the Viscount, dark and foreboding, shoulders hunched as he watched them at a distance, in between the blossoming flowers.

“What about the Viscount?”

The Lady followed her gaze, turning back with a smirk that must be a shared family trait. “He’s a grown man. I’m sure he’ll figure something out without us. Or, he can walk home. Might be humbling for him to break in those shiny shoes.”

Something about her insouciant tone and the playful mischief in her eyes let Feyre take a deep breath. Maybe she was a fool, to trust the cousin of the man she stole from, maybe she was just as likely to trap her. But truly — she could not stomp her way back to Mayfair covered in mud, alone, without Nesta having her head once Elain was taken care of.

“I — I would be very grateful, Lady.”

“Please,” she said with a blinding smile, “call me Mor.”

Read on AO3

Tag list

@danedechance @rosanna-writer @fantasticanonsense18 @dreamlandreader @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @annaskareninas @foundress0fnothing @areyoudreaminof @cauldronblssd @starfall-spirit

[williamlandon]

BALLISTER VILLIAN AU????

I’ve thought about this for awhile now and I finally did it and I love it. I’ve also kinda thought of some lore and here’s what I have so far.

————————————————————————————————————————--Some Lore: Ballister was adopted by Queen Valerin when he was young and became the prince of the kingdom.

During his coronation to become king, he was framed for murdering his mother and his appointed knight, Ambrosius, cut off his arm in an instinct without any thought.

He managed to escape the city walls without anyone noticing thankfully, but where would he go? He knew nothing about the outside world, if anything it was just as dangerous as staying in the kingdom with a harsh title, if not more dangerous.

While running into the forest, he was found by a skilled archer who was also a shapeshifter. They met when Ballister stopped by a tree to catch his breath and an arrow had been fired into his left eye. After realizing what she had done, the archer curiously dragged the unconscious yet still breathing body to her hideout.

After he woke up, she interrogated him. He told her that he was recently framed for murder and was running for his life. He also told her that he was the soon-to-be king.

She realized that he could be quite useful in her plan of revenge on the kingdom, since she too had been outcasted.

She said she would let him stay and use her resources if he helped her in a plan of revenge. After all, he would need her bandages and food if he wanted to survive out here, and he didn’t want to make an enemy he knew he couldn’t defeat. So he cautiously agreed.

After getting Ballister patched up, the archer introduced herself as Nimona.

Months pass by and they have turned to a life of crime. Atleast 3 times a week they visit the kingdom to steal resources such as food, drinks, extra scrap for patching or building, valuables, info about who the real murderer of the queen is, and weaponry.

One day when out looking for extra spray paint cans for Nimona’s vandalizing gig, the fallen prince had over heard the Squire talking to himself. “I should’ve told the prince that his sword was switched by the Director. None of this would’ve happened if I was successful.”

In an instant, Ballister was enraged. The Director did it. She was to blame for his mother’s death. “Nimona, new plan. And this time, our objective is the Director.”

Later that night Ballister found his sword covered in the Director’s blood. He had done it. She was gone. And he can finally rest. Right..?

And within a few minutes, his ex-appointed knight Ambrosius had busted into the office when alerted with the Director’s cry. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Well if it isn’t the golden boy?”

After the Director’s death, Ballister had taken back his crown and title as king. He may have enlarged his murderous title, but he didn’t care. Not this time. Consumed by his anger and grief, Ballister became the evil king in every fairytale. The kingdom was in his bondage, there was no escape. No one to stop him.

Ambrosius fled before he was captured by the new king’s servants and before the wall was sealed off. He was alone now, and even worse, his best friend, the man he loved, was his enemy. Alone in the woods, he wondered what he should do next. If he could do anything at all.. ————————————————————————————————————————————————————

I will post more about this au bc I am honestly in love with it so far. I may also write a fic about this au too I’m sure about that yet, but if I do stay tuned! <3

[tomtenadia]

Detours to You - 29

Hello all, Here we are with another chapter. Two more and we have our end. This chapter has a bit of drama but it's just related to Rowan's job.

Hope you will enjoy it.

MASTERLIST

The seasons had slowly turned once more and autumn was in full swing bringing a chill in the air and painting the streets and parks of Orynth in hues of oranges and reds. Rowan had been really busy at work. During the previous months he had started some of the project that were important to him, with the blessing of the commissioner, a few of his firehouses, had a bit of a shakedown after he made changes and got rid of the Perringtons in an attempt to make the job even safer. The man had been found guilty and had been removed from the TFD after the death of the three firefighters. The investigation had assessed that he had been the cause of the death of those men. It had been like they had lost them again. But the changes had been welcomed across all of his firehouses. It was still not a perfect system but he had seen great progress in the TFD. They had also opened a new station in a more remote area of the city that had been suffering from lack of proper coverage. The station was north and his house was now in that jurisdiction. Because of the location, and the fact that the land was under the Rangers dominion, the firefighters appointed had to undergo very specific training in dealing with forests and they had had to train in fighting wildfires to the highest level. Station 20 had a unique status and Fenrys had become its captain. It had been a no brainer for Rowan. The man had always loved challenges, he was the one who had taken all the extra training courses in hazmat and other specific activities. He had been captain only for a few months but he was doing a grand job. He hoped they would not have to deal with any wildfires, mostly because his house was on forest land and he selfishly loved it.

In the past few months his house had become his safe haven with Aelin and Maya. His mum had moved to a house down in the village but as she promised she had been extra helpful, especially when Aelin needed help. 

Aelin, who was now almost at full term and still working, notwithstanding her parents and his mum adding to his protest to go on maternity leave.

Rhoe would apologise for passing his stubbornness to his daughter.

Maya as promised had been helping him and he and Aelin had involved their daughter in every step of the pregnancy. They had bought her a book for her age to explain about what was happing to her mum, they had taken her to some of the checkups and the girl had been excited at seeing her brother on the black and white screen. She was a proud big sister and loved to tell everyone.

Their lives had slowly settled down and he and Aelin had decided to wait until their child was born to get married. He had thought about eloping but then decided against it. He wanted his parents and his friends on the day. But both he and Aelin had agreed on a low key event.

On that crispy autumn day he was in his car back to his office when his radio became alive with a call. Rowan switched on the sirens and went to the fire site.

*

Aelin was done being pregnant. Tired of her swollen feet, aching back and useless bladder. She probably should start listen to Rowan and actually stay at home but the idea horrified her. She wanted to be in her shop with her friends. Plus Samhain was getting closer and they were getting ready to host and event. This was the last one she kept repeating herself as she collapsed on her chair in her office. Her belly had felt tight all day and had felt contractions all day. She was positive it had been Braxton Hicks since they had been still quite spread out. With Maya had all happened so fast that she had not gone through the slowly labour progression described in the books. No, once her daughter had decides she was done staying inside her she had forced her way out. 

“You are going to behave better than your sister, yes? You still have two weeks.” She caressed her bump and her son kicked in reply. He had been really active that day.

Aelin went to the loo for the millionth time that day and then decided to join Lys and Elide at the front.

“Hey fatso! Miss us?”

Aelin groaned. Her back was screaming.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathed out heavily “baby here is quite active today.” In that instant a much stronger contraction hit her and Aelin froze. That was definitely not Braxton Hicks. It had been far too long.

She followed Lysandra and sat down at the counter.

“Do you have your bag in your car?”

“Lys, it’s not time yet.”

His friends scoffed “that’s what you said with Maya. Five hours later you were in hospital with a baby girl in your arms.”

“I am—” another powerful contraction. Aelin counted the time. Another long one. She was okay. It was not labour.

“You are what?”

“I am fine.”

“You stay put and are on till duty only.”

Aelin looked at Elide “I wonder if Aedion knows how bossy she is.”

“Oh your dear cousin loves me bossy.”

“Ewww, Lys.”

The woman walked away laughing and leaving her with Elide.

“I bet all of this is putting you off from being pregnant.”

Elide’s stare darkened “not really.” She said quietly “Lor and I have been seeing a fertility specialist. We have been trying for months but nothing happens. According to the doctor we are both fine I just…” her friend paused and Aelin extended her arms for a hug “why is it so hard?”

“El, it will happen. Are you guys trying any treatments?”

The woman nodded “We have the first appointment in a week.”

“Good. Now go and be with Lys, I have the till under control. I will place some orders from here.”

It was an hour later when Aelin had started to feel worse. And it was when her last contraction lasted far too long that she had started to think that maybe, maybe she was in labour.

“El?”

“What?”

“I think…” she breathed through the pain “I think I am in labour.”

“Holy shit. Lys!” She shouted looking for the friend.

“What’s happening.”

“The baby is coming.”

They both stared at Aelin holding her bump.

“You two,” ordered Lys “go to the hospital, I close the shop and follow.”

Elide nodded and started walking with Aelin when she stopped “what is it?”

Aelin looked down and saw a puddle at her feet “I guess that was my water…”

At the hospital they got Aelin admitted and settled. The doctor had confirmed that she was in active labour but was only two centimetres dilated. It was still a long road.

“Have you tried calling Rowan?”

“He is not answering.”

Aelin swore. Whether it was from the pain of the frustration she did not know. 

“I’ll try Lor.” When her husband failed to answer too she suspected they were working “Lorcan is not answering either, I guess they are on a call.”

“Of course, I am in labour and there’s a friggin emergency.”

“I have a friend at dispatch.” Elide dialled the number and spoke to her friend at the centre that allocated emergencies to first responders. “Ok, thank you, Evangeline.”

“What?” Asked Aelin at her friend’s face.

“One of the tunnels of the metro has collapsed on top a train in a spot in-between stations.”

Aelin froze “put the tv on” and Rowan’s face appeared on the screen. He was in his bunker gear with his white helmet on. She knew he hated talking to the press.

“We still don’t know what caused it. Our main priority now is to rescue the passengers and put out the fire.”

The reporters asked him why the rescue had taken so long and she saw him restrain his anger “the collapse has happened between Market and South End stations. It’s quite a long tunnel and the metro was in the central part,” he explained “we had to wait for the power to be cut off and we also had to carry all of our equipment down here and create a bridgehead as quickly as humanly possible. My men are making progress inside and fighting the fire at the same time.”

“What do you expect to find inside?”

Rowan remained silent and excused himself saying that he had to go back to work.

In that instant Lysandra stormed inside the room “did you see?”

Both nodded and Lysandra sat down on a chair “I was about to take the metro to avoid rush hour traffic…” a pause “I… I could have been on that train.”

All the afternoon they kept the tv on for updates. Aelin battled through her labour slowly progressing. She had called her parents and Eiddwen but told them to stay put for the time being as nothing was happening and Lys and Elide were already doing a great job at fussing. Eiddwen was due to pick up Maya from hockey practice and she hoped by that time her brother would be born and Rowan back with them.

She followed the disaster with his two friends and the three of them had fun insulting the reporters making stupid suggestions and theories. The whole situation seemed to develop slowly and as Rowan had said in his brief interview, getting access was very hard and they had a fire to battle too. The situation got worse when the ground above started to crack. The traffic had been stopped, and the buildings in the surrounding area evacuated. The commissioner had also joined the scene to help while Rowan was down below dealing with one emergency.

“You have chosen the worst day ever to come out, baby.” She patted her bump “your dad is over there trying to help as many people as possible.”

*

It was many hours later when Rowan finally emerged from underground. His men had fought the fire and then it had started the gruelling and slow process of trying and find some survivors. It had been one of the worst call of his career. The first two cars had been heavily buried under tons of cement, leaving no survivors. The end cars had fared better and a lot of them manage to get to safety thanks to a metro employee on his day off. He had opened the door of his car and had started guiding the passengers to the escape exits the had built along the tunnels. While he was ferrying the people in his car he had started using his phone torch to attract the attention of the passengers of other cars. He had saved two cars before the explosion engulfed the tunnel. Rowan had joined in in the rescue mission as soon as they finally managed to advance but as they progressed they knew they would find no survivors. It was when the call came about the road above at risk of collapse that he called for the retreat but as he was about to walk away, his head-torch illuminated a section under the metro carriage where he saw a group of people huddled together and alive. Lorcan had called his team and quickly they had evacuated them. Not long after they had reached safety the rest of the tunnel collapsed and a few cars plunged in the darkness. The rescue had been conducted from above and the passengers saved.

He was exhausted, his soul aching at all the lives that they had lost on that day. It had a been a fucking disaster. Every first responder’s nightmare.

Once outside he took a deep breath of fresh air until Asterin grabbed him and showed a mask on his face “no complaints, chief. It’s protocol. You all breathed shit for hours down there.”

“Victims.”

“Chief, you deployed mass casualty protocol. We have all the ambulances in the city deployed. We can use two to treat the first responders.”

He sat on the ambulance in silence until Asterin was happy and let him go. He reached the commissioner and saw the sinkhole that had opened in the middle of a busy intersection.

“Rowan,” the man patted his shoulder “terrible day.”

“We tried…” he apologised.

“I know. You and your men have done a fantastic job.”

Rowan felt they had not done enough.

“I know what you are thinking and I need you to stop feeling guilty.” The commissioner turned him to a group of people just as dirty as they all were “that man was a metro employee. He managed to evacuate two cars via the safety exits built in the tunnels.”

Rowan gasped “only two.”

Commissioner Darrow nodded “it’s all he managed. He ran out of time.” He added with sorrow in his voice “it was just before the fire hit.”

Rowan went to the man and shook his hand, then removed the ribbon with insignia of the the medal of valour that he had been given and pinned it on the man “this is a medal of valour that I have been given a while ago. I think that you deserve it more than me for what you have done today.”

“I am a train conductor, I used to drive the metro before the safety tunnels were built. I lost friends and colleagues in the massive fire of fifteen years ago.” The man explained with deep grief in his voice “I never thought that I would end up using them. I am just sorry I could not save more.”

Rowan placed his hands on his shoulders “you saved two cars. Fifty odd people will be able to go home tonight to their families because of you.”

He spent a good half an hour walking around the survivors and talk to them. Then he paused and looked around. That section of the city looked like a mess, with the big hole in the middle, blue lights flashing, police tape everywhere, as many fire trucks and engines that could be squeezed and a few ambulances left behind to treat the survivors that had not needed the hospital.

It was another two hours later when the commissioner sent them all packing, saying that now was in the hand of the transport commission to ascertain what happened. Rowan threw his bunker gear in his pick up and then emptied a water bottle on his head. His face was verging on black. He sat in his car and saw his personal phone dead and cursed. Then he grabbed his work phone and found a scary amount of missed call. From Aelin, from Lys and Elide.

With shaky hands he grabbed the phone. Not another tragedy. He had enough for one day.

“Ae?”

“Rowan!” She screamed.

“Where are you? What happened?”

“Our son, he is coming.”

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn  @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127 @mariaofdoranelle