#hard to name all (most of) the cousins when you actually have to recall their existence first

[funky-dealer]

dipp.....fujio......marny......lalala.....honey......l'amour......johnson........miki.......huey......shy........daisy.......paula........ace.......odeko.....ichigo..........nik.....odeon......cancan.......nickel.......miso......kuro........lucha......macho........opeo.......marcy.......jungle......velvet....peso......banban......pokkle.......kenta.....beyond.....drooby........mu.........havana......shikao......foomin......june.....twinkle......dangle........mag.......pu........hans....signolo...drive.......slip......kinoko.....norn......princess.....harvest........nutsuo....colombo.......and sherman. just to name a few

[sweetlemontart]

call me by his name | yoon jeonghan [M]

summary ⇾ to you, one of jeonghan's most admirable trait is his candid nature. he's straightforward with most people—if he's angry, they'll definitely know. but with you? he'd rather swim the ocean day and night than take his anger out on you. well, that is, of course, unless you ask him to.

PAIRING // yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

GENRE // explicit smut, established relationship, some fluff, mostly smut, sub!reader, jeonghan tries to be angry hard!dom but is actually a soft!dom cause he's too in love with mc, not much plot tbh mostly just smut

WARNING // 18+, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex and fingering (f receiving), degradation, choking, hair pulling, some spanking, creampie, slight dacryphilia, orgasm denial(?) ig, mentions of mc's past relationship with ex!seungcheol

WORD COUNT // 8.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE // me casually coming back on here and posting after almost 2 years of radio silence (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡ btw this is my very first svt fic hehe i started liking them like a month ago? watching going svt is the only thing keeping me sane during my second year of uni :') i love jeonghan and all his manipulating mind games & cheating ways, it's the most attractive thing to me !! might drop a wonwoo fic soon too bcs he's a cutie and his wip is coming along nicely. hope u guys have been doing good hehe do like and reblog if u enjoy reading this, song rec is blue foundation - eyes on fire (skeler remix)

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Jeonghan isn't a particularly placid man. He's not excessively ill-tempered per se, but he is remarkably patient when it comes to you. You know how he is when he's angry, and you can't recall a single time when you've been on the receiving end of his wrath. 

When something ticks him off, his eyes will darken and the heated stare he gives is shrouded beneath his lashes. When he is truly livid, he'll usually walk away from the situation, and there'll be no room for anyone to say something they'll end up regretting later on. 

It's incredible, really, that he possesses the ability to bottle his anger up when it involves you. Anger is an emotion that can rarely be suppressed, but Jeonghan does it with remarkable ease. 

On any other day, perhaps you'd appreciate his effort to control his anger, but not tonight. You've made a serious mistake, one that goes against the one thing Jeonghan had explicitly stated from the start of your relationship—keeping secrets is a recipe for a failed relationship, so if you have something important to say, just say it. Jeonghan is a great boyfriend. He gives you the freedom and privacy to do things you want to do, but this particular boundary was crystal clear, and you just crossed it.

It was your fault, really. You had broken up with Choi Seungcheol only a year prior to dating Jeonghan. The break-up had been a mutual agreement, and there were no hard feelings involved. Over time, you gradually drifted apart and had minimal to no contact until... well, two weeks ago. 

It had been at a dinner party hosted by one of your acquaintances, someone who just happened to be Seungcheol's cousin. Jeonghan hadn't been able to accompany you, so you hadn't been able to introduce him to Seungcheol. Meeting Seungcheol again after more than a year hadn't been awkward. It was like meeting up with an old friend. 

Tonight, however, the universe seems like it's conspiring against you. You had been preparing dinner when you heard a notification chime on your phone. You had haphazardly tossed your phone onto the living room couch before cooking, and your boyfriend just happened to be doing his Lego in the living room, so you called out to him to check the notification. 

There was shuffling in the living room as he stood. When he strolled into the kitchen, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he held your phone in one hand, eyes fixed on the screen. "Who's Choi Seungcheol and why is he asking to catch up over lunch?"

Fuck. 

To be fair, you really weren't expecting Seungcheol to contact you after the dinner party. You had gone without contacting each other for more than a year, so what changed now? You had told him that you found someone new, so he definitely knew there was no possibility of rekindling your relationship. He was most likely trying to be friendly, but you understand why it would seem questionable to Jeonghan. 

Contrary to what you expected, Jeonghan hadn't gotten angry at you. He simply listened to your explanation and nodded. He became quiet, a glazed look in his eyes that you couldn't interpret. Then, he sets your phone down on the kitchen counter and hummed. Oh, he was annoyed, that much was obvious. 

"Okay, well, I trust you. Just... don't do it again," Jeonghan spoke with a slight frown, then walked out of the kitchen as though you hadn't just violated the one, single rule that you had both agreed to abide by. 

Perhaps you've gone stupid, because as your boyfriend walked out of the kitchen, you found yourself trailing close behind him. A tinge of irritation slowly bubbled up in your chest as you watched him casually plop down onto the floor to continue doing the Lego set he had been doing since earlier. 

"Is that it?" you asked him. 

Jeonghan momentarily diverted his attention from his Lego to meet your gaze. He blinked a few times. "I'm sorry?"

"You just... you're not even getting angry at me?"

"Um, am I supposed to be angry at you?"

You were taken aback by his response because it suddenly occurred to you just how silly you sounded. Did you really want him to get angry at you?

"Yes?"

Jeonghan nodded wordlessly, seemingly mulling over something in his head. 

"I made a mistake, you should be mad at me."

There was a pregnant pause before he chuckled, but there was nothing humorous about it. If anything, it sounded a little... sinister. "You want me to get mad at you, baby? Want me to show you how I'm really feeling?"

You swallowed. Suddenly, you felt small under the weight of his unyielding stare. You shouldn't have nodded, shouldn't have ever said anything about it at all, because now, Jeonghan has you on the bed, doing the one thing you had practically begged him to do—take his anger out on you. 

"G-God, please..." You're not sure what it is you're begging for. It's hard to think straight when Jeonghan is between your legs, lapping at your dripping cunt with his tongue. He had warned you not to touch him, but after several attempts of burying your fingers into his silky hair, he decided to take matters into his own hand, grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to your heaving chest. 

Your fingers continuously curl and uncurl against your chest, desperately trying to grab at something to ground yourself. The pleasure coursing through you makes your head spin, your mouth feeling as dry as cotton as you continue to chant your boyfriend's name. 

Jeonghan hums against you, mouth suckling at your swollen bundle of nerves. Your jaw drops open at the feeling, eyes screwing shut as you let a moan slip past your lips. He repeats the cycle a few more times—kissing, sucking, licking—until you feel the familiar knot tightening in your stomach. 

To your disappointment, Jeonghan withdraws his mouth from you but is quick to replace it with his fingers. He's familiar with your body by now, knowing what gives you the most pleasure and which spots to press to have you coming undone in minutes. 

He's rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb, middle and ring fingers ghosting over your hole, not dipping in, only lingering there to serve as a reminder of the control he has over you. "Keep your hands there," he says, squeezing at your wrists once as a warning. Then he lets go of your hands and settles his palm on the inside of your thigh, spreading you open further. 

"Jeonghan..." you whimper, legs beginning to shake as the telltale sign of your climax begins to show. 

"I need you to cum on my fingers once before you can have my cock," he says, voice coming out huskier than normal. 

Straining your neck, you peer down at your boyfriend with half-lidded eyes, only to feel a rush of heat in your stomach when you see that he's already looking at you. In the dim light of your bedside lamp, you can just make out his blown-out pupils, almost obscured beneath the strands of dark hair falling over his forehead. His lips curl up into a wicked smirk, and your focus shifts from his eyes to the way his mouth glistens with your wetness. It feels so shameful, but the sight only makes you drip even more. 

"My angel wants me to be angry at her, right?" he asks you, pressing down harder on your clit, which makes you yelp with surprise, head dropping back onto your pillow. 

"Don't stop, please, I'm cumming... F-Fuck!" It's all you manage to say as you begin to writhe under Jeonghan's hold.

He clicks his teeth in disapproval when you shift your hands from your chest to your sides, fingers tightly grabbing at the bedsheet, twisting at it recklessly. He lets it slide, however, knowing you're trying your best not to touch him like he knows you so desperately want to. 

His ring finger dips into your hole just slightly, and the stretch isn't much, but it makes you keen anyway, breath catching in your throat as he plunges it deeper and deeper until it reaches his knuckle. He doesn't move it after that, keeping it buried there as he continues to play with your clit. 

"I've barely even started and you're already like this," he says in a mocking tone, teasingly biting down at your plush thigh. "Go ahead and cum for me, then. Show me how much you want my cock, baby..."

Your body caves to his words. The knot in your stomach snaps, and you cum with a loud moan that you don't even attempt to hide. Without warning, Jeonghan promptly replaces his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking hard, prolonging the pleasure. He doesn't mind the way your whole body is trembling or the way your thighs try to snap shut. 

"H-Hannie, fuck... fuck..."

The way you're mumbling out incoherent words only makes the blood rush down to his cock. He's painfully hard in his pants, wanting nothing more than to sink himself right into your tight pussy. It's getting increasingly difficult to think with his head than his dick. His self-restraint is starting to fray at the edge. 

"That's it, baby..." he mumbles, removing his ring finger from inside you, grinning when your hole tries to suck the digit back in. 

With his index and middle finger, Jeonghan spreads your pussy lips apart, ignoring your whine of protest as he continues to stare at your soaked cunt. It's humiliating to be so exposed and vulnerable like this, but why do you enjoy it so much? 

Jeonghan snickers, warm breath hitting your bare pussy. "Baby, I wish you could see yourself right now. Your cute pussy is clenching around nothing."

With a sheepish whine, you splay your hands over your face, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Hannie..." you grumble, hoping he would show you some compassion and stop teasing. But of course, Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't just stop there. You should know better by now that there is no one in the world more cunning and sly than your boyfriend. 

Jeonghan pushes himself up into a sitting position, sighing when he sees the way you've covered your face. He doesn't like it when you hide from him but surprisingly doesn't say anything about it. 

When you feel him shift on the bed, your curiosity gets the best of you. Peering cautiously through the gaps of your fingers, you're left dumbfounded at the sight of your boyfriend tugging his shirt over his head. The wisps of his dark hair that had been snagged by the shirt are left askew, and the view would be endearing if it wasn't for the devious look in his eyes as he looks at you. 

Then he stands, and for a second, you're afraid he might leave you there. It wouldn't be unlike Jeonghan to suddenly leave. He's unpredictable, always trying to be a step ahead of everyone. This time, however, all he does is stand by the end of the bed, eyes roaming over your exposed figure as if trying to determine the next course of action that will deliver the most favourable outcome for him. Damn him and his mind games.

With slow movement, you press your legs together, concealing your most intimate part from your boyfriend. He shakes his head in disapproval, but you make no move to rectify your mistake. It's impossible not to hide from him when he's looking down at you as though he wants to devour you inch by inch—like a lion ogling at a wounded deer. 

Very slowly, he begins to undo the string of his sweatpants. It aggravates you to see how composed he is, movements unhurried as if he doesn't see just how much you need him. Surely he notices how your eyes rove over his bare torso, committing to memory every little detail about his body even if you've seen it myriad times before. He's not particularly muscular; he's more lean than anything, elegant, and refined in all the right places. It only makes the waiting feel even more agonising. 

"Don't tease, Hannie, please," you plead, your pulse quickening when he finally steps out of his pants. 

"Don't tease? Aw, princess, you were the one getting all friendly with your ex, and now you want me to treat you like a good girl who hasn't been whoring around behind my back?" His tone is condescending, sending a surge of electricity up your spine.  

You're suddenly reminded of what landed you in the current predicament in the first place. You want to explain and justify yourself, but you're rendered speechless when Jeonghan sweeps a hand down over his torso, eventually wrapping around his hard cock. He tugs once, twice, hissing slightly at the much-needed contact, smearing pre-cum all over the tip and shaft, the ring on his pinky glinting in the low light. 

Sitting upright, you're about to speak and deny his previous statement, but the words die down in your throat when he suddenly climbs onto the bed, slowly crawling closer to you.

You squeak in surprise when he grabs at one of your legs, tugging you down just slightly so that your face is parallel to his. Then, he settles himself between your legs, cock pressed against your stomach. He has you right where he wants you. 

Jeonghan captures your lips in a kiss, wasting no time to slip his tongue into your mouth, tangling it with yours. You sigh into his mouth, tasting the remnants of your wetness on his tongue and lips. It's a pleasant mix of bitter and sweet, a combination that makes you feel dazed despite the fact that he hasn't done anything to you yet. 

Jeonghan sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, relishing the way you mewl. He starts pressing wet kisses onto your jaw, trailing down to your neck and collarbone. "You smell so good, pretty," he mumbles against your skin, licking at your sternum. 

Reaching a hand down, you grab at his hard cock, wanting nothing more than for him to slip himself inside. You're sure you're dripping down onto the bedsheet by now. Jeonghan, however, has other plans. You only get to pump him twice before he slaps your hand away, pinning your wrist to the bed. "Don't act like such an impatient whore..."

Your whine of protest trails out into a moan when Jeonghan suddenly wraps his mouth around your nipple. His mouth is hot against the sensitive bud, and the light grazes of his teeth against it makes you arch your back. 

Jeonghan's eyes suddenly meet yours, hooded with lust. He's suckling so noisily, hips grinding into yours. It's so obscene—the way he's looking at you, the sounds he's making, the way his balls press down on your clit whenever he grinds into you. Feeling overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensory, you turn your head to the side, burying your face into your pillow as you huff out a shaky breath. 

You should've known Jeonghan wouldn't be too pleased with this. He withdraws his mouth from your chest with a lewd pop. His hand leaves your wrist in favour of grabbing at your chin. His grip is harsh, but not enough to hurt. With a sharp yank, he forces you to face forward, where you have no other choice than to meet his eyes. 

He clicks his tongue disappointedly, and your eyes flick down to his lips, red and puffy from sucking. This doesn't help your case at all, because Jeonghan immediately starts vigorously shaking your face left and right, compelling you to look back into his eyes. Your head feels dizzy, but you don't miss the look in his eyes. There's irritation swirling in them now, imbued with desire and the hunger to ravage your body until you're left a broken, muddled mess. It makes you shudder, legs squeezing tight on each side of his hips. 

"You know better than to hide from me, right?" His thumb caresses the skin of your jaw. The touch is so soft, a stark contrast to the way he's glaring down at you. When you take a little too long to answer, Jeonghan taps at your cheek a few times, hard enough for you to feel the sting. 

"Y-Yes..."

He coos, stroking your stinging cheek. "Mhm, but you're not behaving very well tonight, are you?"

"I've been good, Hannie," you assert, trying to maintain your composed front even though you desperately need him to fill you to the brim. You're aching, and you need his cock to soothe the pain. Noticing his sceptical gaze, you decide to reword your sentence. "I'm sorry. I'll be good, I promise."

Jeonghan is thinking about something, silently plotting something in his head. Fuck, you're screwed now. The intensity of his gaze tells you he's about to do something that's unlikely to be in your favour.

"You want to hide from me that bad, hm?"

You're quick to shake your head. "No, Hannie, I want you to see me."

Jeonghan scowls, pecking your lips once before sitting up on his knees. "On your stomach."

You frown, dread washing over you. He knows how much you loathe that position. "Jeonghan, please, no..."

Jeonghan's face remains impassive. "I won't ask you twice."

"You know I take a long time to cum when I can't see your face," you grumble, feeling your stomach churn, chest tightening. 

"Who said you were cumming tonight?"

The question sends you into a frenzy. "Please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please, please..."

When Jeonghan has his mind set on something, no amount of begging or grovelling will sway him. He's glowering at you, and three seconds pass before you relent. Having his cock inside you is better than nothing at all. 

"There you go, baby," he says when you finally shift onto your stomach. He's quick to straddle your thighs. "Wasn't so hard, was it?" 

You say nothing, feeling sulky now that you can't look at your boyfriend's pretty face anymore. "Angh!" you yelp when you feel a spank on your ass. Jeonghan does it a few more times, rubbing the tender skin between each hit. The touch should be soothing, but it only makes your ass burn even more, raw from his smacking.

Gritting your teeth from the tantalizing sting, you bite back an apology, knowing it's probably the last thing Jeonghan wants from you. Saying sorry would only make it worst for you. He's testing you, pushing the boundaries to see how much you can endure before you break and plead for some semblance of his kindness. The longer you hold out, the better. 

You feel him dip his head down, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale to breathe in your smell. The fragrance of your perfume and natural scent is exhilarating. He wants to stay there and breathe you in all day, fill his lungs with your sweet scent so that he can still smell you even when you're miles away from him. 

A groan rumbles in his chest, you can feel it on your upper back, can hear it right beside your ear. He starts pressing kisses down your shoulder blade, digging his teeth into the smooth flesh. 

"Keep your head down," he warns you, as though he knows about your urge to turn and look at him. He sits up, his knees on each side of your legs, willowy fingers kneading your hips. 

You whine into your pillow, eyes brimming with frustrated tears. Your whole body is trembling, yearning to see him, touch him, tug on the silken strands of his dark hair. God, just the thought of it has slick gushing out of your throbbing hole. 

"I'll be good," you promise him, voice coming out breathy, desperation bleeding through. "Just, please..." you beg, quietly moaning when you feel Jeonghan's hands on your inner thighs, spreading your legs just enough for him to comfortably press the tip of his leaking cock onto your cunt. 

You hear him chuckle when your whole body stiffens, anticipating the moment when he'll finally fuck you full. He sighs to himself, looking at the way your pussy is all coated in your wetness, slick gushing out onto his cockhead as he brushes it over your clit. 

"Hmm, but you only behave after you're caught doing something bad, isn't that right?"

You don't answer, unsure whether you should defend yourself or agree with his question. You gasp when you feel him slide in just slightly, stretching you out, tip prodding at your gummy walls just enough to make you feel the agonizing stretch. "More, Hannie," you mutter, practically drooling at the prospect that it would only take a roll of his hips for him to fill you up. 

However, the delicious stretch never comes, and you're left there feeling stupid, panting with only his tip buried inside of you. You whine once, lifting your head to look back at him. Big mistake. You've barely craned your neck before you feel his hand pushing down onto the crown of your head, fingers yanking at your mussed-up hair, shoving the side of your face back into the pillow. 

With a growl, Jeonghan leans down to press his lips against your ear. "What's with you today, princess? You've always been such a good girl for me, but you keep pushing my fucking buttons today. You want me angry, hm? Is that what you want?"

His crude words shouldn't make you feel the way you do, but when he speaks, his hot breath against your ear makes your eyes roll back, pussy clenching around the tip of his cock, desperate to suck more of him in. You respond with a quiet apology, voice quivering from the arousal wracking through your body. You crave him, ache for him like a desert thirsts for rain. "Need you..."

Then, as if he senses your distress, he decides to show you some mercy. Little by little, he slides into you, slipping in easily, aided by the wetness seeping out of your pulsating hole. He ignores the way you call out his name with a shattered gasp, slowly pressing forward until his hips are flush against your ass and his cock is snug in your heat, buried to the hilt. 

You can feel Jeonghan's groan rumbling in his chest, and the noise makes your pussy clamp down on him tighter. You're fisting at the bedsheet, feeling relieved, desperate, and frantic all at the same time. God, why isn't he moving? You want him to fuck you into the bed, want him to ruin you, use you until you can barely remember your name. 

Perhaps this is Jeonghan's way of taking his anger out on you—tormenting you until you're reduced to nothing but a sputtering, drooling wreck. Maybe he wants to see you plead, beg. Or maybe, he wants you to curse him out, chastise him, berate him for putting you through this torture.

Afraid of further repercussions, you decide to patiently wait, clenching your teeth to bite back from begging him to move. Seconds seem to drag on endlessly, and you resort to imagining the sight you'd be met with if you were to turn around. Would you see Jeonghan's face contorted into a mixture of frustration and hunger? Would his eyes be crazed and heated? Maybe he's enjoying the excruciating wait, peering down at you with an amused grin, tongue peeking out to rest against his lower lip just slightly. You're dying to know. 

Then, as if he is satisfied with your unwavering determination to remain still for him, he loosens his hold on your hair, gently brushing the dishevelled strands back. His thumb extends out to stroke at the tendrils of baby hair stuck to your temple, damp with perspiration. "You want me to move, baby?"

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you have half a mind to consider saying yes, but a nagging feeling tells you it might be a trick question. Jeonghan must've sensed your apprehension because you hear him chuckle. 

Without any warning, he draws his hips back, pulling out until only his tip remains inside before plunging in again. Your jaw slackens into a silent moan. The lack of stimulation has made your body feel so attuned to his, sensitive to every little movement. You feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, feel his breath on your neck, and the ridges of the veins on his cock against your pussy. 

"It's not a trick question, you know?"

You're quick to nod your head as best as you can. "Please move," you breathe out, feeling like you're on the verge of just turning around and demanding him to fuck you the way you both need it. 

His hand grapples onto the sheets by your head, delivering another thrust into your cunt. His movement is languid, as though he wants to take his time. It's driving you crazy, just how collected he seems compared to you. Your body feels as though it's burning, lit ablaze by his kisses, touches, and every single point of contact between his skin and yours. 

Your eyes zero in on his hand propped up on the bed, right in front of your eyes, honing in on the way the sheets bunch between his fingers and the way his ring sits snug on his pinky. Subconsciously, you reach out for it, fingertips digging into his knuckles, nails pinching into the skin when he thrusts again. The movement is more rushed this time, jostling you up on the bed just a little, which makes you gasp. 

He removes your hand from him, hurriedly pressing your palm into the bed, cradling your hand from behind, his fingers sliding through the spaces of yours to intertwine them. The gesture feels so intimate, and it leaves you feeling disoriented. "Fuck, Hannie, so good..."

Jeonghan chuckles, peppering kisses all over your bare shoulder, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake wherever his lips meet your skin. "I've barely even started, baby."

Jeonghan pushes himself up onto his knees, letting go of your hand to place both his hands on your hips. He doesn't miss the way you groan at the loss of his warmth on your back, but he dismisses it. He pushes in once, twice, his gaze fixed on the point where his cock keeps appearing and disappearing into your drenched cunt. 

You barely register it when Jeonghan hauls you up onto your hands and knees, lost in the thought of him, only comprehending the situation when he once again slides into your aching pussy. You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, elbows buckling, almost sending your face flopping back into your pillow. 

Jeonghan doesn't feel the need to take it slow anymore. His thrusts are no longer feeble, and his pace is steady. The sound of skin meeting skin fills his ears, mixed with your broken moans. It sounds like an obscene euphony, a harmony that makes his head feel foggy and hazed.

 "Fuck, pretty, you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Jeonghan grunts, sneaking a glance down, only for his pace to falter when he sees the way your slick is coating your inner thighs. The view is so lewd, salacious, dirty, and messy. "My messy fucking baby," he mumbles, picking up his speed, eyes fluttering when he feels your walls tightening around him. 

"Jeonghan... Jeonghan..." You're chanting his name like a mantra, eyes pinched close, savouring the feeling of being pumped full. 

"Yeah... that's my name, baby," Jeonghan responds, restrain starting to slip, evident in the way his voice cracks just slightly at the last syllable. "Can you cum like this?"

You promptly shake your head. "N-No." It's not entirely a lie. You hate relying on your imagination like this. You want to be able to touch him, hold him, want to be able to look into his eyes as you let your orgasm crash down on you. You want to see the way his hair frames his pretty face, want to see his flushed cheeks and the sweat gathering at the dips of his collarbones. You want to see him, or you think you'll die on the spot.

"Good. Don't cum, princess." 

"W-What?" you squeak out. 

Jeonghan snorts out a laugh. "I told you before—you're not cumming tonight."

You gulp, stooping down low onto your elbow, too weak to support yourself up on your hands. "I wanna cum, H-Hannie... Please let me..."

Jeonghan only snickers, ramming into you harder, letting out a content sigh when your moans seem to escalate, becoming more wanton and desperate. You're squeezing him so tight, white ring of your milky slick forming a ring at the base of his cock, causing him to groan out loud. He'd like to think that he's in full control, but everything about you is making him feel delirious—your smell, your pussy, your moans. 

Ever the competitive man, Jeonghan feels like he's losing this game. He's supposed to be angry at you, but why does it feel like you have the upper hand? Feeling irked by this sudden revelation, he stretches a hand out, wrapping it around your neck. He hears the surprised gasp you let out when he pulls you upright into his chest. 

Your hands immediately fly up to circle around his wrist, taken aback by the sudden change of positions. His other arm slithers around your waist, keeping you balanced as he continues to fuck you from behind. "Fuck, Hannie, your cock feels so good," you can't help but murmur, arching your hips just slightly so he can reach deeper into you. 

He scoffs, burying his face into the crook of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on the spot underneath your ear, strands of his hair tickling your skin. As he expects, your head lolls the other way, granting him better access to your neck. "Of course it feels good, baby. I've fucked you so many times your pussy is used to me now. Wouldn't be able to take another cock without thinking of mine, would you? Wouldn't feel so good if it wasn't my cock, right?"

His fingers dig into the sides of your neck, constricting just enough for you to gradually feel the drowsiness from the lack of air. It's intoxicating, being able to surrender yourself to another person completely, knowing they have you in the palm of their hand.

You're too preoccupied with the feeling of his hand around your throat to realise his other hand sneaking down to settle between your legs, middle and ring fingers starting to draw gentle circles into your bundle of nerves. It's almost too much—the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way his lips skim over your neck, the chokehold he has on you, the breathy groans he murmurs against your skin. 

"Unghh! F-Fuck, Jeonghan, 'm gonna cum..."

He chuckles, delighted at the turn of events. He doesn't stop the motion of his fingers against your clit and instead presses down harder, making your head roll back onto his shoulder, a throaty moan spilling past your lips into the open air. 

"Oh?" he says in a sardonic tone. "You said you couldn't cum like this. Or were you just lying to me, baby?" His mocking shouldn't have such power over you, but it makes your heart pound with the intensity of a raging storm.

"N-No, it's because you're... your fingers—"

"Hmm, what's with my fingers, angel?" 

The fingers on your clit start moving faster, motions rushed and relentless, bringing you to the verge of your climax quicker than you would ever anticipate. The sudden shift in speed makes you cry out in shock, eyes pinching shut. You're quick to bring a hand down to his wrist, tugging, trying to yank his hand away from between your legs. 

He doesn't relent, slapping your hand away and briefly resuming his assault on your aching bud. "Don't try to stop me now. I thought you wanted to cum."

"You told me not to," you rush out, heat starting to swell in your stomach, ready to burst. 

Jeonghan lets out a chortle. "That's right, baby. Ah, you listen so well..." Stretching his tongue out, he licks a broad path up your neck, stopping right underneath your jaw, where he proceeds to suck the skin. He wants to mark you, claim you. What better way than to bruise your pretty skin, right? To show everyone only a sliver of what goes on between you and him behind closed doors. 

"Oh, god, let me cum, please, please..." You have no other option than to resort to begging. Cumming without his consent would be catastrophic now. Not being able to see his face is punishment already to you, you're terrified of just how far he'd be willing to go to take his anger out on you.

Jeonghan presses the tip of his nose into the plushness of your cheek, humming as though he's weighing his options. "I don't think so, princess," he mumbles, the snap of his hips not once faltering, maintaining its hasty rhythm. "I don't think you deserve to cum."

You don't have much time left. Simple begging won't work now. You're wracking your brain for anything, anything. Forcing him to cum before you would be close to impossible, noting just how composed he seems. He's breathing hard, gravelly groans bubbling up in his chest, but he's nowhere near how wrecked you are.

Through your haze, you suddenly grow aware of the hand still draped over your throat. He's not pressing or squeezing, simply just letting his hand rest there as a means to keep you balanced on your knees as he fucks you open from behind. 

Sheer desperation makes you reach both hands up to claw at the hand on your neck. You're clinging onto the last threads of your rationality, knowing if Jeonghan puts even the slightest amount of pressure on his grip, all your sanity will go out the window, and you'd be hurled face-first into your much-awaited orgasm. You're playing with fire, you know it, but you only have one chance. 

"Unghh, f-fuck, please, choke me... I've been a bad girl, H-Hannie, choke me as punishment, and let me cum..."

You feel his mouth stretch into a grin against your cheek. Your walls are clenching around him so tight, pulsing, so hot and tight. He knows he has won. It's this notion of winning that has him thinking about giving in, but one look at your face has him reeling back his words. The furrow of your eyebrows, your slack jaw, your scarlet cheeks... it makes him feel sadistic. You wanted him to be angry at you anyway, what boyfriend would he be if he didn't give you any reason to make him angry? 

Then, Jeonghan watches. He tightens the hand around your neck, and continues his assault on your clit with the other, all while he continues to ram his dick into you again and again. You start to babble out incoherent words, and that's when he finally strikes. 

"Don't cum."

Those are the two simple words that send you dissolving into a whirl of pleasure and euphoria. Your ears feel like they're ringing as pure, white heat consumes you whole, moaning out your boyfriend's name repeatedly as you go rigid in his embrace. It's like shockwaves, rippling through you so forcibly you have no choice but to succumb to the raging tides, riding it out until you can fully apprehend the situation again. 

Gradually, you begin to notice the way Jeonghan holds you tight to him, how both his hands wrap around your waist to keep your body pressed to his, how his hips have stilled, hard cock still sheathed in your throbbing heat. He's pressing soft kisses onto your shoulder, coaxing you down from your high. 

Jeonghan lets your tired figure collapse onto the bed before sitting back and propping himself up on his heels. The sight is so endearing to him—you, still huffing breathlessly, hushed whines slipping past your lips at every exhale, so spent after only one orgasm. Jeonghan feels like it's so perverse of him to reach a hand down to stroke at his still-hard cock, touching himself to the sight of your curled figure. From this angle, he can see the mess between your thighs, remnants of your juices and his pre-cum smeared all over your puffy pussy lips. Oh, he definitely isn't done with you just yet. 

He hears you mumble his name groggily. Jeonghan's not sure whether you're calling out to him or just saying meaningless things in your post-orgasm haze. He doesn't waste time thinking, though, immediately swooping down to cage you between his arms, kissing along your hairline. "Tired already?"

Your eyes flutter open, looking up at your boyfriend who hovers above you with a smirk that makes your heart skip a beat. Fuck, you're really in for it. 

He coos at you, but it sounds sarcastic. "I told you to hold it, didn't I?"

You puff out a breath, shifting onto your back, obediently parting your legs so Jeonghan can slot himself in between them. "But your fingers—"

"Good girls don't talk back, do they, pretty?"

"N-No..."

He nods, eyes wandering downward, not trying to hide the way they zero in on your breasts. "No, they don't... But you're not a good girl, are you?" he asks, lowering himself to blow cool air onto your nipple, earning a choked gasp from you. Without any warning, he latches his mouth onto the skin at the top of your breast, sucking earnestly, not letting up until he's finally satisfied with the reddening of the skin there. He always loved to see the reddish hue of your hickeys turn into delicate shades of blue and purple as they heal. 

"I can be your good girl..."

"No, no, baby, you're a lying whore who doesn't do as they're told."

"Hannie, I asked you so many times—"

Jeonghan doesn't give you a chance to object, immediately slanting his lips over yours. He pushes his tongue past your spit-coated lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth, letting his tongue tangle with yours lasciviously. He feels you sigh against his mouth, hands coming up to curl around the nape of his neck. 

Reaching a hand down, he positions his cock over your entrance, plunging himself into your sopping pussy without any notice. It's easy to sink back into you—you're still sopping wet and stretched open from before.

Shocked, you break away from the kiss to let out a sharp cry, nails digging into his shoulders, threatening to break the skin there. "God, J-Jeonghan!"

He doesn't give you any time to adjust, quickly finding a rhythm that makes you arch your chest, pebbled nipples brushing against his front. You finally have the chance to look at him, really look at him. Fuck, you wouldn't trade this sight for anything else. He's the most beautiful thing you've ever had the privilege of seeing. 

He notices your lovestruck eyes, cock twitching inside you as he pounds into you. He thinks you're so pretty, all splayed out underneath him, so pliant, letting him do whatever he pleases with you. Your hair fans out over the pillow under your head, thin tendrils of it clinging onto your dewy temple and neck. He understands why you love to see his face so much whenever you fuck—he thinks he could cum earlier than anticipated if you keep looking at him with that infatuated gaze.

"Fuck, baby..." he curses, and it's the first time you've seen him lose his composure. "Fuck, you're such a pretty little thing..."

Your body sings at the compliment, shuddering, legs pressing into his sides, wanting to close shut but unable to. You're light-headed, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but this feels too good to stop. With quivering hands, you slip your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling carelessly. He's growing his hair out, so the length falls just shy of his shoulders, some strands curling over his neck like delicate tendrils of silk. 

Jeonghan's low groan pulls you out of your dazed thoughts. "Hannie..."

"Mhm, am I fucking you good, gorgeous? No one else can fuck you like I can, hm?"

You rake your nails across the nape of his neck, whimpering when he shifts just a little, hitching one of your legs up and hooking it around his slender waist. He thrusts a few more times, and his cock brushes against a spot that has you jolting, mewling as he grazes it repeatedly. 

"Oh? Right there?" Jeonghan noses at your cheekbone, listening to your gasps and whimpers, feeling his abdomen tighten at the obscene sounds you let out. 

"R-Right there..."

"That's it... You think Seungcheol can get you like this?"

At the mention of your ex's name, you whine loudly. A part of you hadn't expected Jeonghan to remember the earlier incident, but you should've known better. It seems stupid to think Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't remember an incident that occurred only an hour ago. 

"H-Hannie..."

"Hm, you gonna meet him for lunch? Gonna let him try to win you over? Gonna let him have what's mine?"

You shake your head, on the verge of sobbing, feeling your eyes fill with tears. "Wouldn't do that," you rasp. "I'm yours, Hannie..."

Jeonghan doesn't seem very convinced. "Yeah? You're mine?" he mutters against the apple of your cheek. His voice is low, any traces of anger or annoyance concealed. "You wanna say you're mine, with his contact still saved in your phone, baby? Don't be silly."

Your heel digs into Jeonghan's lower back, anchoring him to you as he continues to drill into you. "But I am yours—"

"Are you?"

"Y-Yes, always yours..." A hard thrust has you gasping, tears trickling down your temple, getting caught in your hair. 

Jeonghan's pace stutters, distracted by the way you blink up at him through your damp lashes. Tears gather at your lash line, and he can't help but want more. It's a sick thought, but Jeonghan doesn't care much. How could he care when he's balls deep inside of you, feeling like he's about to explode from the way your heat wraps around him so well? He wants to see you cry for him, sob, snivel, all because you can't get enough of his cock. He wants you to cum so hard you see stars and forget about everything but him, him, him. Choi Seungcheol will be the last thing on your mind. 

When Jeonghan lowers himself down onto his elbow, he seals his mouth to yours, kissing you fervently. It's a bruising kiss, teeth digging into lips, tongue rolling together in an alluring dance. After some time, Jeonghan reluctantly pulls back, taking a much-needed breath. He groans at the sight of your lips, all plump and damp with a mixture of his and your spit. "Fuck, baby... you're mine, aren't you?" 

 "Y-Yes, yes!" you babble, vision blurring as more tears fill your eyes. 

"You're gonna let me fill you up? Have your pussy dripping my cum for days so you don't forget who you belong to. You like the sound of that?"

"God, yes, yes..." 

Your thighs are starting to shake, Jeonghan can feel it on his hips. He brings his lips over yours again, not kissing you, just barely letting it brush over yours. He can feel every hot breath you release against his mouth. "Say his name, baby."

"Unghh... Hannie—" 

He snickers. "I said his name, not mine," he says darkly, pecking your lips once. 

You're confused and so goddamn frustrated. You're teetering on the precipice of your orgasm, and he wants to play mind games with you now? "No," you whine, shaking your head. 

"No? Why are you so scared?"

"F-Fuck, please!"

"I won't get mad at you for saying it, princess." His voice has dropped down an octave. It feels like it's seeping into your brain, turning it into mush. 

"C-Can't..." you murmur, drool gathering in your mouth the more Jeonghan splits you open. 

"You can't? Why? Scared you might cum if you say his name? Scared you'll think of him when you cum?"

Your eyes grow wide in alarm. "N-No! I wouldn't do that, oh god, f-fuck..."

"Then say it or you're not cumming," he threatens, grinding harder into you, angling his pelvis just slightly so that it brushes against your clit every time he thrusts in. He watches your eyes roll back, pleasure fogging up your brain. He feels your juices coat his pelvis, splashing over his lower abdomen. Whenever his cock dips in and out, the wet sounds resound throughout the room, and it makes him hiss. "Say it," he repeats, knowing he won't last much longer. 

You frantically shake your head, moans coming out stuttered. "N-No, please don't, I can't...Hannie—"

Jeonghan notes the way you're starting to sound distant. "Say it or I'm leaving you here to cum by yourself."

Your eyes meet his—frazzled, panicked, dazed. "Please, I can't!"

"You wanted me mad, right? This is it, princess. Show some gratitude and say his fucking name."

You're trying hard to read him, to possibly decipher his intentions, but it's so hard when you feel like you're on the verge of passing out from the onslaught of pleasure. You reach one hand down to rake at the skin of his lower back, earning a throaty groan from him, a sound that makes your skin prickle. Your other hand settles on his face, cupping his jaw softly, as if begging him. 

Your eyes roam over his face, taking in his exquisite beauty that always leaves you short of breath. His tousled hair hangs over his forehead, dangling in front of his eyes, dark like pools of obsidian, drawing you into their depth. There's a radiant flush that colours his cheeks, drawing your attention to the contour of his cheekbones and jaw, dusted lightly with sweat, highlighting the sharp features. Then his lips—so inviting and soft, parting with each breath. 

Jeonghan feels almost flattered under the weight of your affectionate stare. He briefly closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose, trying to pull himself together. He tries to push everything out of his mind—your delicious sounds, your intoxicating scent, your warm cunt around his cock. It's your sweet, quiet whine that pulls him out of his reverie. When he locks eyes with you again, he knows there's nothing he can do to delay his impending climax—not when you're looking up at him so tenderly, eyes fixated on him like a moth drawn to a mesmerizing flame.

"I c-cant... Don't make me say his name, p-please..."

Jeonghan swallows hard, one hand curving at the nape of your neck. With his grip he tilts your head up, letting your lips caress his. "Say my name, then. Say my name when you cum. Look at me and show me who you belong to..." 

You cum with a shout of Jeonghan's name, your whole body shaking at the sudden explosion. You squirm in your boyfriend's hold, toes curling over the back of his thighs as the pleasure ravages your whole body, surging through every nerve and every cell. It's numbing and so overwhelming at the same time, every inch of your skin humming with electricity, and every vein feeling like they've been set ablaze. For a moment, nothing else in the world matters except you and Jeonghan, entwined in each other as you lose yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure. 

"Fuck, fuck, should I fill you up, baby?" Jeonghan's voice quivers just slightly. 

The question sends another flood of ecstasy through you, cunt fluttering around his cock a second time. "Yes, yes—"

Your voice is like a siren's call to him, beckoning him, tempting him. Jeonghan is only a man, and he's not immune to a force as powerful as you. He sinks his teeth into your neck as he finally empties himself inside you with a drawn-out groan. Your tight cunt is pulsing so tightly around him, milking him, forcing every drop of cum to spill into you and coat your walls. A rather high-pitched whine escapes his lips as he slumps into you, hips flushed to yours, aching balls slick with the mixture of your release and his. 

You're panting heavily as you wrap your arms around Jeonghan, blinking up at the ceiling blearily, feeling filled to the brim with his cum still in you. Despite having the urge to clean yourself up and get rid of the stickiness between your legs, you lie there for another minute, feeling so content with Jeonghan's weight atop yours and his lips on your neck. Being with him is pure bliss. 

"Jeonghan," you say softly after some time, not wanting to ruin the peace and quiet.

He hums, rolling over to the side to lie on his back, letting his softening cock slip out of you. He pulls you into him with one arm, allowing you to settle half of your body on top of his. He lets out a pleased sigh, one hand grazing over your bare back, fingertips gliding down the dip of your spine. 

Placing a palm on his chest, you rest your chin on the back of your hand, gazing up at him tiredly. He seems to glow so prettily, eyes fluttered shut and a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Despite the heaviness of your eyelids, you gather your resolve, knowing that you still have something to clarify with him.

Without thinking too much, you mumble Jeonghan's name again and smile when his eyes flutter open to peer down at you drowsily. His free hand comes up to brush back the hair from your eyes. 

"I'm sorry for not letting you know," you mutter, the weight of your guilt just now settling in your heart. If you don't apologise now, the feeling might devour you whole. "I should've told you..."

The hand on your back ceases moving, palm splaying on your upper back, warm against your skin. "Baby, I wasn't really—you know—angry about it. I was a little stumped, sure, but... I trust you. I always trust you."

You shake your head, pulling yourself up slightly to look at him better. "You deserve to be angry. Jeonghan, you should be so angry at me. I should've told you as soon as I got home from that dinner party."

Jeonghan chuckles, much to your dismay. "Okay, then why didn't you?"

"I just... didn't think it was important. I felt like it wasn't anything worth telling you. It's not a good excuse, I know."

"Is Seungcheol important to you?"

Your eyes widen in disbelief, unable to fully grasp what you just heard. "What! No, of course not!"

"Then what's there to apologise about?" Jeonghan says with a snicker. "Did you kiss him at the party? Did he try to make any move on you? Did he seem interested in you?"

"No to all of those.��I... I told him I already found someone else," you admit in a quiet voice. 

When Jeonghan smiles at you, it looks somewhat smug. "That's my girl... Besides, it wasn't his face that you were sitting on when you got back home from that party, was it?"

Appalled by Jeonghan's words, you bring your palm down on his chest, smacking him. "You're disgusting, Yoon Jeonghan."

He only laughs, eyes crinkling as he pulls you even closer. "Don't act like you don't love it."

You say nothing, only bringing your head down to rest it on his chest again. His heartbeat is strong against your ear, and his skin feels warm under your cheek. 

"So..." Jeonghan begins. "Round two in the shower?"

He doesn't have to ask twice—you're already off the bed and sauntering towards the bathroom. 

© sweetlemontart — all rights reserved.

[m0thisonfire]

The funny thing is that from the five years I’ve dabbled in Afk Arena, Vedan is probably one of the characters people just don’t like or care about. There is little to no fanart or fanfiction of him, which breaks my heart. He’s considered one of the unlikeable characters because of his actions and motivations, and everyone hates going up against him when he’s on the opposite team.

And I find that funny because everyone is sleeping on the potential.

Stick with me on this one, I have been suffering over this for five years:

Graveborn, if I remember correctly, canonically lose some if not all of their past lives’ memories when they turn. At the least their memory becomes ridiculously blurry and they struggle to recall their Lightbearer days.

Vedan would not be immune to this. He is still a Graveborn.

You don’t think that maybe, maybe after he wakes up from the ritual, he’s confused as hell on a few aspects of his life? Like, he remembers certain things. His name, his noble status, his snobbish personality… and that’s it.

Oh, he’s a vampire? Swell! How’d that happen? Why? Why are there two kids in his house? Why is one of them alive and hates him while the other is a Graveborn who trusts him implicitly? He can’t remember. He can’t remember anything. It’s like his entire life has been hard-reset. He’s still a selfish dick, but now he has to navigate this new life to the best of his abilities as a blank slate, because Count Vedan wouldn’t have accounted for the fact that by escaping death, he would have been sacrificing his memories.

He’ll have to go through countless journals and papers to piece together what happened while taking care of Isabella and Silvina to the best of his abilities, and question his own actions from the potential consequences he most likely has to deal with as someone who doesn’t remember them.

He has to train Silvina and Isabella still, which is hard to do when the older of the two despises him and makes training twice as difficult and the other is blowing things up constantly because she can’t yet control her powers, and now he has to integrate himself into the Graveborn courts, which is especially difficult because he’s Count Fucking Vedan and whose idea was it to let a bunch of madmen and evil scientists and doctors to run things? And now he has other more friendly Graveborn living in his castle as well. Fantastic.

I like Vedan just being an unlikable jerk, yes. It’s simple, to the point, and most likely to be true and widely accepted.

I also love the idea of Vedan actually ending up as a tired dad who has no idea what he’s doing as a Graveborn and is actually surviving by his cunning and by the skin of his fangs. He ends up taking in wandering Graveborn and becoming family with most of them. Niru and Shemira are his favorites, they’re actually helpful. Fereal and Kelthur are like his younger cousins he keeps out of trouble. Grezhul and Thoran? Have to reteach them manners. Baden? Working on getting that lich out of him, Vedan has no patience for trouble makers. Don’t get me started on when Vedan sends Silvina on that assassination mission and she comes back after a week a Graveborn. All hell would break lose then.

Does Vedan have any idea what he’s doing? Absolutely not. Is he going to back down? Also Absolutely Not. He just wants to raise his kids and live in peaceful solitude with most of the Graveborn in his flock. If that means he has to act like he did before, so be it. Hypogeans and vampire hunters be damned, Vedan’s never been one to follow anyone else’s rules.

If he can cheat death, he can cheat the other rules too.

I have… so many ideas for him, I adore and hate him. I want to rattle him and make him face consequences-

[card-queen]

15 Questions Tag

Super duper thanks for the tag @maskedemerald

Rules: Answer the 15 questions as your OC or yourself. Tag up to 15 people.

Tagging: @raichana @kyuponstories @aptericia @the-down-upside-finch & @mister-writes

Teach me more about your characters! Please!

Also, my answers are gonna fudge details because some of these questions are not suited for fantasy projects!

Are you named after anyone?

CAS: Aye, Castowen the Brave. Naming kids after folk heroes is pretty common where I'm from. CONORIC: I cannot answer for my real name... my birth name, but apparently Conoric is the name of a folk hero from the same tales as my brother. SARABONNEY: I should hope not! In the ancient customs of my forefathers, my name translates to 'dead flower' to confuse evil spirits. Everyone's got names that mix good and bad things. HUGHWEN: Not as far as I know. There's only one Hughwen Shelborne. GWYNNEN: I believe a great-grandfather on my mother's side. FRYSZKA: Not that I am aware! I have many names that were sponsored by relatives but to my knowledge, I am the only Fryszka I know of! PENTOS: I cannot see that is any of your business.

When was the last time you cried?

CAS: Not since my mother was still around, Lady keep her. That woman could brings tears from a statue! CONORIC: I cannot recall. (He can) SARABONNEY: A long time ago, probably. I'm not so easy to startle, you know. And besides, why does it matter? HUGHWEN: Oh, I can't tell you that! It's a good story though! GWYNNEN: I don't know if it was the last time... but it certainly is the time I remember the strongest. It was the day I decided that I needed to change things. FRYSZKA: Ooh, I'm afraid quite recently. I can be quite tearful! PENTOS: I do not believe that I... cry. (He is correct)

Do you have kids?

CAS: No, not me. If thing'd gone differently, I'd probably have 2 or 3 by now but... my calling was elsewhere. CONORIC: No. Someday... perhaps. But no. SARABONNEY: Are you joking? I've got my hands full with all my brothers and cousins! I don't think even I could handle any more mites running around needing attention! HUGHWEN: (chokes) I... cannot say for certain. I certainly cannot rule that possibility out, if you understand my meaning. GWYNNEN: Not as yet but... I have my eyes on a certain lady... so perhaps someday..? FRYSZKA: No, but when that time comes I want to have so very many! Especially girls! (she trails off, daydreaming) PENTOS: I cannot imagine anything more repulsive.

Do you use sarcasm?

CAS: Not likely. That kinda talk is liable to land me in some pretty hot water. Not that I need the help, mind you. CONORIC: No, I find it rather tiresome actually. SARABONNEY: I don't... mean to, but... people can be so frustrating. You must understand, I know it's frowned upon and all, but some days being sarcastic is preferable to... the alternatives! HUGHWEN: Does a bird have wings? ;) GWYNNEN: I find that I sound more flippant or sarcastic when faced with challenges and challengers who test my patience. FRYSZKA: Sometimes! If the spirit takes me~ PENTOS: What do you think?

What’s the first thing you notice about others?

CAS: It's hard to put in words... Generally, how they carry themselves. There's a lot to take in about a person when you first meet them. CONORIC: Where they look, if they make eye contact and that sort of thing. People often look towards that which interests them, giving me ample time to study them. SARABONNEY: I think I notice their eyes first. I tend to look there and... I dunno, I guess I just get a feel for people! Especially if they match my gaze! Which isn't all that often actually... HUGHWEN: Oooh, I shouldn't say.... All right, if you insist. I notice where they keep their money... and typically how much of it they carry. GWYNNEN: Their posture, especially their hands. In my line of work, it helps to be ready for any kind of trouble... even from the most unsuspecting of souls. FRYSZKA: They're outfit! You can tell a lot about a person by how they choose to present themselves, you know! PENTOS: Voices. They often draw me out of my thoughts...

What’s your eye colour?

CAS: That kind browny-orange that a lot of Ethelians have, right? CONORIC: They're a kind of dull red, I suppose. SARABONNEY: Oh, they're orange. Do you like them? HUGHWEN: They're orange, wouldn't you say? GWYNNEN: Dark brown. A strong Ethelian colour, or so I'm told. FRYSZKA: They a shade of pinkish red! In my native tongue, it's called 'py' and it's a colour that symbolises life and passion! Beautiful, isn't it? PENTOS: Amber, I suppose you'd call it. I really do not care.

Scary stories or happy endings?

CAS: Happy endings. If a story doesn't end well then what's the point in reading it? CONORIC: It really depends on the story. SARABONNEY: Are those my only choices? That's not very many... if pressed, I suppose I'd have to say 'scary' stories. If it all ends too happy that it just feels... I dunno... fake, I guess. HUGHWEN: Who doesn't love a happy ending? GWYNNEN: Happy endings all around. FRYSZKA: Ooh! Ohh! I have to say both! I love happy endings, especially in romance stories... but I also love being thrilled, scared and sad... especially in romance stories. I think I just romance stories. PENTOS: I prefer text books. I have no time for children's stories...

Any special talents?

CAS: Like all Ethelians worth a penny, 'm a pretty good cook. CONORIC: Nothing to boast of, I'm afraid. SARABONNEY: I know my way around all the plants and flowers in my neck of the woods. And if you've been there, then you don't need me to boast about how impressive that is! HUGHWEN: Coin tricks and gambling, mainly. Although, if you ask some of the women I've know, they might be able to add to that list. ;) GWYNNEN: I count myself as a skilled horseman. FRYSZKA: Well, I don't mean to brag, but I know my way around any marketplace and know all the typical prices of fabrics, jewellery, food and luxury goods off by heart. I'm really quite dependable! PENTOS: I have many. I was raised to be highly efficient. I know all the plant-life that grows naturally on the Eastern continent, I'm fluent in all known languages and some ancients ones (he continues on and on)

Where were you born?

CAS: Walbury, in Ethelia. It's a big town with too much going on. CONORIC: In a manor largely devoid of anything I care to remember. SARABONNEY: The tiny village of Asterwood just off the Bear King Forest. You probably haven't heard of it, it's not on many maps... HUGHWEN: Can't remember. GWYNNEN: In the manor of Canbury in the north of Ethelia. There's no place quite like it. FRYSZKA: You must'nt think ill of it, but I was actually born in Sal Rega, in Santcria. I know that all that place is known for is those poor 'Children of Sal Rega' but honestly, there is more to my home town that just tragedy! PENTOS: Kyros. You'll need permission for anything more specific.

What are your hobbies?

CAS: Woodworking and whittling. I'm pretty handy with a knife. CONORIC: I find reading quite comforting and I've been quite taken with writing down my thoughts of late. SARABONNEY: Oh, I love to cook like any proper Ethelia, but I also like to do pottery and art. I design all my jars and pots myself! (she proudly presents some of the ugliest looking pots & jars known to man). HUGHWEN: Gambling and spending money. The same as any right thinking man, don't you agree? GWYNNEN: I'm afraid I have little time for hobbies these days. My work is my life. FRYSZKA: Just a little pursuit of mine to create perfumes! I haven't made anything yet... I'm, um... studying. (she has, she is not, and the reek). PENTOS: (scoffs) You mean besides filling in asinine surveys? I suppose card games for one would count as a hobby, yes?

Do you have any pets?

CAS: Can't say I ever have had a pet. I'd love one though, a great big scary thing. CONORIC: Not unless you count messenger birds. SARABONNEY: Well... Steen's not exactly a pet, but... I do feed him and take care of him. Steen's more of a helper... he pulls the carts for me when I got to town, but... well, he's the closest thing I've got to a pet. HUGHWEN: Never had time for pets. GWYNNEN: Indeed. My household has always kept dogs. My own dog, Bron, is as eager as puppy despite getting on in his years. FRYSZKA: I have an albino snake that I take with me everywhere, her name is Petrissa! She's so tiny, sometimes I forget where I put her! PENTOS: No.

What sports do you play/have played?

CAS: I used to play a lot of street games when I was a lad but now that I'm grown, the only sport I lay claim to is the sport of Monster hunting and prying squabbling farmers apart. CONORIC: None, I'm afraid. My condition makes me rather... ill-suited for such activities. SARABONNEY: We didn't really have sports growing up... I think we just made up rules for games we only knew the names of! HUGHWEN: There's a Mizani pastime of throwing knifes and darts at targets. It's not gentlemanly to brag, I understand, but I hold a few records in some cities across the sea. GWYNNEN: Horse-racing and jousting. Not the best but by no means the worst either, mark you! FRYSZKA: Ahaha, oh dear no. I was far to inflexible and clumsy for sports. I have always enjoyed watching them though! PENTOS: Sports are a fool's activity.

How tall are you?

CAS: (He checks) So... 175cm... what's that? Like 5'9''? CONORIC: 163cm at last count. SARABONNEY: I'm 161cm, which I know is short but honestly, I can manage just fine! It's not my fault everyone else is taller! (she is of a quite average height and will not hear otherwise :/) HUGHWEN: Guess? ...no? What a shame... I'm 177cm. GWYNNEN: 185cm by my reckoning. Quite tall for an Ethelian or so I've heard. FRYSZKA: Me? I'm just a tiny little 154cm! And I truly love it! PENTOS: I am exactly 195cm, which, I believe, is 6'5''.

Favourite subject in school?

CAS: What makes you think I had a favourite subject? (laughs) I was a rotten brat of a student, never paid attention to a thing! CONORIC: History, I gather. I was rather reclusive in my studies. SARABONNEY: I'll tell you now, I wish I was reading. Would've made my life a whole lot easier... but no, I believe I was most interested in art and cooking. HUGHWEN: Oh, I found learning about chemistry quite fascinating. Do that surprise you? GWYNNEN: History and law. The two go hand-in-hand, I feel, and have shaped a lot of what irks me about that way things are today... FRYSZKA: Mathematics! Oh, I love numbers so much! It's so reassuring to have something so unifying across all of the world! PENTOS: (scoffs) All of them. The pursuit of knowledge is not something one can simply put half their heart in.

Dream job?

CAS: Oh, a dream job, is it? I think if all things settled down then I'd like to keep my duties as a Castleguard Captain. Feels good to help others and prepare the next generation too. CONORIC: I really haven't considered what the would even be... SARABONNEY: I'm not sure... I just know that I haven't found it yet. I want to do something that keeps me active, learning and helping others. Suppose that applies to a lot of jobs, doesn't it... HUGHWEN: A rich drunk? That counts as a dream job, wouldn't you agree? GWYNNEN: I once held lofty ambitions of being a county judge... a way to enact change and make life better for everyone... Ah, but these days I think I would settle for the job of beloved husband and father. FRYSZKA: Oh, you know what I would truly love? I would love to own a dress shop by the sea! PENTOS: Botanist. Thus, my studies.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Has anyone ever made fun of your taste in music? Yeah, but they were just being playful. What’s your favorite season of the year? Fall and winter.

Do you have pop-tarts in your house right now? Nope.

Is anyone’s birthday coming up? My dad's is later this month.

Does someone owe you over twenty dollars? No, I wish. ha.

Do you remember who you liked in grade eight? Yeah, my best guy friend at the time, Kyle.

When was the last time you burned any part of your body? I don't recall.

Have you ever overflown a bathtub? No.

Are you dressing up for Halloween this year? No, I stopped doing that years ago.

Have you ever called somebody dollface? Yeah, but I said it jokingly. I actually had a time when I was younger that I said that a lot for some reason. I even had a sign in name for something with dollface in it lol.

If I gave you ten dollars, what would you spend it on? I've been cravinggg wings.

Have you ever thrown food at a stranger in a movie theater? Uh, no? Piece of shit.

What are you most excited about right now? I'm flying to go to my older bro's graduation in May. He lives on the opposite coast.

Does / did either of your parents serve in the military? No.

Are you somewhat of a perfectionist? No.

Do you like sour candy? Nope.

Where would you like to go on your honeymoon? I hve no idea. I can't even imagine getting married.

Do you have Verizon? I do.

What do you do to stay awake when you’re tired? Just try to fight it if I have to. I get so sleepy though.

Are all nighters something you have grown used to? Not anymore. I did that for so many years where my sleep schedule was completely fucked up but ever since my hospital stay a couple years ago I started getting on a better sleep schedule thanks to getting the right sleep med.

Do you usually wear sunglasses when you’re driving? I don't drive or wear sunglasses ever.

Do you wear your shoes around the house? No.

Is there ever a time that you enjoy cold showers? I always like hot showers.

What clothes are you most comfortable in? Oversized shirts and leggings.

Is there anybody you’re not ashamed to tell anything to? I shre the most on here.

What has changed most about you in the past year? Health took a bad turn again for a bit.

Are you good at painting nails? No, I suck. Luckily for me I have a cousin who got her certificate to do nails and does mine all cute for me.

Smoothies or slushies? Slushies.

Are you good at filling silence in awkward situations? I'm the worst.

Ignoring nutrition, could you live off veggies for the rest of your life? Oh, noooo.

Elaborate on a way you have volunteered? i've volunteered at a homeless shelter, a nursing home, an animal shelter, local festivals, car washes with my school club.

Do you use a full length mirror daily? No. I avoid that as much as possible.

Can you walk in heels, or do you feel awkward in them? I cannot.

Any TV shows you sit down weekly to watch? Currently, just Rupaul's Drag Race every Friday. I used to wath a shit ton more shows, I don't know what happened.

Does anybody know about your sex life other than your partners? I don't have a sex life.

Even if you don’t like politics, do you still have opinions on the issues? Of course.

Are you one to sneak food into movie theaters? Not like full meals, but snacks and drink.

Do you ever actually make your bed? Not anymore. It's hard to keep my bed from having a lot of stuff on it too cause I spend majority of my time in bed and want certain things within reach.

Do you make an effort to eat healthy? Not really.

How are things between the person you like / love / are with? No such person currently. It feels like forever since I've felt that, I forget what it feels like.

Where did you sleep last night? In my bed, of course.

The last time you kissed someone, what color of shirt were they wearing? I don't recall.

What kind of booze did you last take shots of? I don't remember. It's been a little over a decade since I've drank.

What’s something you want to purchase next time you’re at the mall? I don't know. I'm broke anyway.

Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you that you were sexy? Yes. They had to have been lying through their teeth.

If you could see any musician live, front row, who would you choose? I really wish I could have seen Linkin Park with Chester Bennington of course. Such a talent and voice. So sad.

If you had to choose between a million dollars or to be able to change a regret? The money would really help my family and I but some of my regrets got me where I am with my shitty health now, so changing one would be literally life changing.

Are you taller than your mom? No.

Have you ever been around someone who was high? Several times, including myself. >>>

Do you prefer to take your showers at night or in the morning? Night.

Think back to June. Were you in a relationship? No. I think I'm meant to be single. I'm almost 35 and haven't had a real relationship. Had a couple guys show a lot of interest, or seemed to anyway, but they didn't want to be together. I wasn't good enough.

What’s so special about what you’re wearing? I just like it.

Do you have any ‘naughty’ photos on your phone? No.

What were you doing at 10:00 this morning? I was at my PT appointment.

Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? We haven't talked in years.

Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Nopeeee.

What do you miss the most about your past? My childhood.

When is the next time you will kiss someone? Probably never.

Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? Yeah.

Plan on getting drunk or high tonight? Just high.

In the past week, have you cried hysterically? No.

Do you think you’ll actually live a happy life with somebody? I can't imagine it.

Are you on birth control? Nope, I don’t need to be.

Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? Yeah, my mom.

Last time you were really happy? I have no idea.

Do you tend to fall for players? No.

Why aren’t you in ‘love’ with your last ex? I moved on long ago.

Have you ever asked a boy for advice? Yes?

Are you wrapped in a blanket? No.

Did you get a full 8 hours of sleep last night? I did.

Have you spoken to your mother today? Father? Yes, we live together and talk all the time.

[starcrossed-sky]

(prev anon) interesting. faces are weird to me lol. i can recognize people but i have a hard time perceiving and comparing individual features. whenever my mom pointed at some distant cousin during a family reunion and said to me, "she has her father's eyes, don't you agree?" or pointed at a celebrity while watching tv and said, "he looks like [actor], right?" i was always confused. my brain just stores someone's whole face and tags it with their name so i remember them when i see them, but it's hard to pick out specific features or conjure them up on command.

the thing i'm worst at visualizing and recalling though has to be patterns and colors. in my bedroom there's a spare bedframe with yellow, blue, and grey stripes in a certain pattern, and i see it every day. if i were allowed to look at it for 5 seconds and then asked to close my eyes and recall the pattern, i couldn't. my mind would conjure the image of the bedframe with the colors kind-of there but also kind-of not. in order to recall the pattern, i have to keep a verbal record that it's "yellow, light grey, blue, dark grey, repeat." and despite having that, i'm still unable to use that record to edit the vague image of the bedframe and its undefined color pattern.

i was also really bad at those "flatten/unflatten the box. which patterned side should be on top?" problems you'd get in school aptitude tests for this same reason lol.

when reading books (fiction), i have a hard time keeping up with detailed visual descriptions, since each new detail mentioned just replaces the last one in my mind (if my mind can display it at all due to my limited visual memory bank) and there never ends up being a whole or coherent picture of the scene of any kind. this might be why i never felt particularly drawn to original fiction, but read fanfic just fine (source media provides me with a rich relevant visual bank for enjoying what i read). still, i find it much easier to read and write more psychologically focused stuff that centers internal character pondering, feelings, etc. since it doesn't require any extra strenuous swatch management.

i've heard of aphantasia before, a handful of times. i think the first time was through a youtube video by some artist who has the "full" version of it, describing their experience. i didn't know it was a spectrum then, so i thought "well, visualizing is hard, but my mind isn't a total blackout like theirs." and moved on. but turns out there's more to the it than that 🤔

Yeah, it's definitely a spectrum, and it's a spotty one. Colors are actually the thing I'm best at visualizing (in the most literal, visual sense). I was really good at the box tests (still am tbh) and other rotational tasks, which is why i was so mad at that initial post - "how many windows are on your house" is a rotational task for me.

There is in fact so much more to it! Visual aphantasia gets most of the attention but you can be aphantasiac in any sense, for example, and it's not always even. I have no aphtansia in my tactile senses for example.

[lucygraysboy]

“five  foot  one  —  two?  and  you  dragged  a  six  foot  man  all  the  way  here?  how?  tomorrow�� i’ll  be  the  one  taking  care  of  you,  it  seems,”  he  muses  with  a  chuckle,  glancing  at  her  skinny  arms  and  imagining  they’ll  be  hurting  like  crazy  in  the  morning.  “so  the  mean-looking  goat  in  your  barn  doesn’t  intimate  you,”  he  recalls  her  talking  to  that  thing  in  the  sweetest,  kindest  voice  so  surely  they’re  friends,  “but  horses  do?”  it’s  mostly  a  joke,  said  in  a  light-hearted  manner,  but  a  tiny  part  of  him  is  genuinely  surprised.  “yeah,  but  i  see  where  you’re  comin’  from,  lucy  gray.  their  size  can  be  intimidating  when  you’re  not  even  half  their  size,  but  most  horses  have  an  extremely  amenable  and  trainable  attitude.  they’re  very  smart  and  gentle  if  handled  properly.”  and  she  doesn’t  have  to  jump  into  the  saddle  or  struggle  and  pull  herself  up  all  on  her  own.  he’ll  bring  her  a  stool  or  simply  lift  her  up,  whichever  she’ll  feel  more  comfortable  with.  “you  know,  lucy  gray,  i  don’t  think  i’ve  ever  met  a  person  as  courageous  as  you.”  her  willingness  to  overcome  fears  impresses  him.  if  she  told  him  she’d  teach  him  how  to  milk  that  goat  of  hers,  he  doubts  he’d  be  half  as  brave.  “then  that’s  settled.  as  soon  as  i  get  better,  i’ll  teach  you  everything.  i  have  a  feeling  you’ll  love  this.”  the  freedom.  galloping  across  a  prairie,  with  sun  kissing  your  cheeks  and  wind  dancing  in  your  hair  —  nothing  can  compete  with  that  feeling.

“shamus.  it  does  sound  a  bit  masculine,  but  you  know…  it’s  very  fitting.”  an  intimidating  name  for  an  intimidating  creature,  he  thinks  to  himself,  for  whatever  reason  thinking  the  goat  doesn’t  really  like  him.  the  way  it  she  was  looking  at  him…  this  name  he’ll  have  no  trouble  remembering.  his  eyes  growing  wider  and  wider  as  the  names  just  keep  piling  up.  “oh,  i  see  you  have  a  preference,  hm?  southern  classics  like  hank  and  clyde.  lovely  choices.”  he’s  trying  his  best  not  to  laugh  as  it  would  be  rude,  but  a  duck  named  hank?  it’s  so  very  adorable  but  also  hilarious.  “you  weren’t  kiddin’  when  you  said  you  had  a  lot  of  animals.”  and  then,  as  if  to  impress  her,  he  attempts  to  recite  the  names  back  to  her,  “clyde  and  hank  and  gilbert  are  the  three  ducks.  the  three  musketeers.  storm  and  spirit  and  sundance,  the  horses,”  and  the  two  he’s  forgetting  because  their  names  don’t  start  with  an  s  and  stand  out  a  bit  more,  “little  pip  and  his  gang  of  chickens.  and  rabbits,  henry  spot  and  otto  and  two  lovely  ladies.”  maybe  when  she  actually  introduces  him  to  them  and  he  sees  their  faces  and  markings,  he’ll  do  a  better  job  at  keeping  up  with  the  names.  “you’re  right.  if  i  had  a  family  like  yours,  all  these  sweet  animals  and  your  cousin,  i  wouldn’t  be  thinking  of  running  away  either.”  he  reckons  it  would,  indeed,  be  the  hardest  goodbye.  leaving  joe  and  ma’s  grave  behind  was  hard  enough,  he  can’t  even  begin  to  imagine  what  abandoning  living,  breathing  people  would  be  like.  “it’s  alright.  i  didn’t  mean  to  get  nosy.  i  tend  to  forget  myself  sometimes.”  he  can  tell  it’s  a  sensitive  subject  and  retreats  with  no  hard  feelings,  fully  respecting  the  other’s  boundaries.

“that’s  very  kind  of  you  and  your  covey.  when  do  you  meet,  if  you  don’t  mind  me  askin’?  i’m  sorry,  i’m  just  really  curious  about  everything  because  this  is  the  first  time  i’m  coming  across…  a  covey.”  so  everything  about  it  fascinates  him,  from  the  way  they  dress,  their  names,  their  attitudes,  their  bond.  it’s  all  so  new  to  him,  sounds  like  a  concept  from  one  of  his  mother’s  utopian  novels.  “she  clearly  ain’t  no  gem  or  prize,  not  even  personality-wise.  an  unkind  man  would  say  her  father  must  have  been  a  troll.  you  know,  a  mean,  ugly  gnome  from  legends?”  they’re  very  popular  in  ireland,  something  all  parents  use  to  scare  their  children  with  when  they  misbehave.  “but  we  wouldn’t  be  cruel  enough  to  say  that  out  loud,  now  would  we?”  he  chuckles  softly,  gently  nudging  the  curly-haired  brunette  with  an  elbow.  he’s  a  polite  man  with  a  gentle  heart,  but  when  someone  crosses  the  people  he  cares  about  (and  he  sure  does  care  a  whole  lot  about  lucy  gray),  all  that  goes  out  the  window.  he’d  do  anything  for  his  loved  ones.  “i  didn’t  know  you  had  claws.”  judging  by  her  looks  and  actions,  she’s  an  angel  and  so  it’s  almost  impossible  to  believe.  

the  smile  on  his  face  growing,  pale  blue  eyes  watching  her  with  amusement.  “you  slipped  a  snake  down  her  dress?  a  real  snake?”  he  has  to  clasp  a  hand  over  his  mouth  to  keep  from  laughing  out  loud,  his  shoulders  shaking.  he  can  picture  this  sweet,  tiny  girl,  sneaking  up  on  may-not-so-fair  and  slipping  a  snake  down  her  dress,  and  it  sparks  a  whole  new  kind  of  love  and  respect  for  lucy  gray.  “and  left  one  in  his  shoebox,  too?  that’s  the  greatest  revenge  ever.  i  bet  he  was  screaming  like  a  little  girl  when  he  lifted  the  lid  and  saw  the  snake.”  this  girl  is  so  different…  how  could  a  person  not  fall  in  love  with  her  and  her  attitude  and  angelic  looks  and  these  stories?  “an  accident,  you  say?  oh,  god…”  now  billy’s  full-on  laughing,  and  he  has  to  bury  his  face  in  the  colorful  quilt  to  keep  from  making  much  noise.  it  takes  him  a  moment  to  calm  down,  and  when  he  does,  he  puts  on  the  saddest,  most  pitiful  look  and  wails  quietly,  “oh,  poor  mayfair,  a  snake  down  her  dress  and  a  very  public  accident.  poor  mayfair,  got  what  she  deserved.”  he  gently  pats  lucy  gray  on  the  shoulder,  a  silent  good  job  hanging  in  the  air  between  them.  “cheat  taupe  sounds  about  right.  what  do  you  think  of  pee-fair?  to  honor  and  commemorate  that  memorable  event?  they  need  new  matching  names.”  he  can’t  help  but  blush  when  she  says  the  name  looks  better  on  him,  shy  gaze  focusing  on  her  skilled  fingers  and  quickly,  as  if  to  distract  and  keep  her  from  noticing  the  color  of  his  face,  adds,  “thank  you  for  helping  me  tie  it  up.”

"i don't know, five foot one- two?" guessing close to one of those for an answer, since she hasn't measured herself in a long time she wouldn't accurately know. "the horses always tower me, it's no wonder i haven't exactly climbed up one. let's just say they intimidate me." she laughs a little. picking up a snake? that's not an issue to the songstress. but standing next to a mammal a hundred times her size, now that's a problem. "but i would love to be taught. so course i wouldn't mind." if they can find a way to be alone, she'd absolutely love to learn. but then she wonders about his brother, where is he? did something happen to him too? she didn't have the heart to ask and besides that... it was paining her already to think something has happened to him. "shamus the goat, she sounds like a boy but she's a girl. maude ivory wanted to name her so i wouldn't have the heart to tell her no. then there's the ducks.. clyde, hank and gilbert. then storm, spirit, theo, blaze and sundance the five horses." she answered, mind circling for the rest, "little pip, sue and annnie the chickens. then the rabbits... flora, henry spot, otto and clover." softly laughing by the end of everybody's names, it was a lot.

"that's what i'll do, then. if i ever need to. but i know i just can't... my animals and maude ivory is here, she'd be heartbroken. i couldn't do that to her." she'd miss her other cousins too, but maude ivory would be the hardest to break that news to from how attached she was to lucy gray. "you didn't upset me, i just–" she felt guilt pang through her, feeling bad for accusing him of trying to get information out of her inside her head just because she was growing defensive about it.

"that is what makes us different, we flock in color and with an open heart to anybody." she nods, anyone is welcome to join their covey. it's not about being blood born into it. "well now, she ain't no gem or prize but it's not in me to attack anyone's face they were born with. just unless it's my claws diggin' into their skin." lucy gray amusingly smiles. "even though i didn't do that either. i came up to her out in town, slipped a snake down her dress and left one in billy taupe's shoe box. both of 'em scared to death of a little ole garter snake... sure made for a fun way of revenge. mayfair lipp even had an accident on herself, right in front of everybody. but that's what she gets." casually, she smiled about the memory of it while in the middle of trying to guide the string into a knot– little difficult from this angle only being able to use one hand. most called her crazy for it, like she was some type of monster for scaring poor ole mayfair, but they didn't know the story and that's on them for judging before they knew it. "cheatgar. sure, that's what i should've been callin' him long time ago. cheatgar or cheat taupe. i'm sorry he even has to share a name with you, but it looks better on you."

[weirdlandtv]

Vintage Brigitte Bardot film posters. Mostly French, some international ones.

I’m rather paralyzed by the many things I could say about BB and her films. I’ve seen all of them of course. She made her debut in Le Trou normand (CRAZY FOR LOVE) (1952), as a rather precocious schemer who tries to scam her cousin out of his money. She hated the experience—she was bullied on set—and nearly quit acting to return to ballet training at the Conservatoire National de Paris.

Next came Manina, la fille sans voiles (MANINA, THE GIRL IN THE BIKINI), a film about a lost treasure, where BB portrays a little sea elf in a bikini. The film looks like it was shot in a day, in secret, but I have to say: it does sort of fascinate me. I find myself rewatching it. It has the strange, stifling atmosphere of a dream. You look at it and you wonder when it’s supposed to take place, 1952 or 1752.

Naturally lazy and indifferent, BB didn’t work hard at her film career, and for the next few years she played mostly bit parts here and there, in France, and in Italy. Her big breakthrough came in 1956, with the groundbreaking Et Dieu… créa la femme (AND GOD CREATED WOMAN), a film that more or less heralded the Sixties: it was shot on location, by a small crew, and didn’t feature any big names apart from Curd Jürgens (who was solely cast to attract investors). Though the film, despite its reputation, doesn’t contain any nudity, it probably has more sex in it than many other films that do. A lush and gorgeous sexploitation film is what it is, with BB as a sensual, warm-blooded creature looking for love in idyllic Saint-Tropez. (She’s sweaty, bronze, barefoot, all flesh and passionate lust.) As in her other films, BB wore her own clothes. Her loose clothing style, in complete contrast with women’s fashion at the time, was actually something of a revolution (and this too heralded the Sixties). Throughout her films she’s dressed in sheets, unbuttoned work overalls, pyjama tops, men's shirts, etc. Her hair is messy, lionesque. If we in the 21st century can’t recall a time when women wore different outfits for different occasions and times of the day (afternoon, dinner, evening), it’s because BB broke all those rules. Not even deliberately, she was too lazy to rebel, but she just couldn’t be contained. It was that, freedom, or suicide.

More successful films followed, most notably the comedy Une Parisienne (LA PARISIENNE) and gritty drama En cas de malheur (LOVE IS MY PROFESSION). Yet BB wasn’t taken seriously as an actress until the much-lauded La vérité (THE TRUTH) (1960), probably her best film. (She herself has said, with typical recklessness, that La vérité is her only good film, but that’s not true.) About her acting, she once said: “I just showed up, said my lines, and hoped I didn’t embarrass myself.” She was pretty good at acting however for someone so disinterested in the art of it. What she lacks in technical proficiency she more than makes up for in spirit. (Said director and first husband Vadim: “BB doesn’t act, she exists.”)

Having proved herself to her critics with La vérité, BB gradually lost interest in filmmaking in the 1960s. Jean-Luc Godard’s Le mépris (CONTEMPT) (1963), highly regarded today, was an unusual marriage between France’s most popular star and arty New Wave; but BB disliked the result, and it didn’t perform well. (Her main memory of the film is being bored. You can see it in the photos that were taken during production: she’s always lounging in a corner, staring out a window, sleepy, bleak.) VIVA MARIA! (1965), co-starring Jeanne Moreau, was a big international success and it’s many people’s favorite BB film, but it’s a farce, a comedy of screw-ups, no matter how elaborate the costumes or how big the action set pieces. Whimsical romantic comedies and mundane westerns make up the latter half of the 1960s and early 1970s. (The westerns were shot in Almería, Spain, so BB didn’t need to travel very far: at that point, she preferred to stay home in Saint-Tropez with her growing entourage of cats and dogs.)

BB’s last film is a rather curious one. In THE EDIFYING AND JOYOUS STORY OF COLINOT (1973) she appears only towards the end, in a kind of glorified cameo. She rides a horse, she rubs the main character’s thigh, she gets spanked. The film always reminds me of those medieval fairs where people dress up in period costumes in the woods and pretend that it’s the Middle Ages. But since it’s the 1970s, and not the Middle Ages, the costumes come off of course, resulting in some rather unappealing love scenes, and that’s about all the film has to offer. BB decided she had had enough, and made the decision to quit acting right then and there, a decision she never revoked. In her last scene, rather touchingly, she kisses a bird; and then she fades away.

[tendouluvr]

not telling them you’re pregnant - f!reader

- fluff, sliiiight angst maybe

- characters: suna, sakusa, semi

- warnings: pregnancy (i don’t go into detail of giving birth or anything), cravings, morning sickness aka throwing up, two mention of the act of sex in semi’s, some cursing

- wc: 1.4k, 888, 946

a/n: it’s f!reader cuz pregnancy but there’s no specific pronouns/gendered terms used

also idk how suna got so long, he was the last one i wrote for bc i couldnt think of anything lmao

[2. iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama]

SUNA

#! suna has been practicing late into the night the past few weeks

#! there’s a big game coming up and the entire team is feeling the pressure and adrenaline from the crunch time

#! you haven’t been feeling too good lately, a lot heavier and more tired than usual

#! thinking it was just stress from work and the missing presence of your boyfriend, you pushed through it and thought it would go away in the next few days

#! unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side and you started to get sudden needs to throw up

#! it didn’t take you long to realize why your physical and mental drive have been down lately

#! you’re pregnant

#! or you believe you are

#! you bought a few tests, some of different brands so you can have a variety, and headed home to confirm your suspicion

#! a few minutes later, staring back at you was multiple positive symbols and the bolded ‘PREGNANT’s

#! taking a few deep breaths, you decided to tell suna tonight once he comes home

#! you thought it was better to let him know as soon as possible

#! it wouldn’t hurt anyone plus the faster you rip the bandaid off, the easier it’ll be to deal with it

#! so you waited

#! and waited

#! until 11pm that night, when suna finally came through the front door

#! “tarō! how was practice? can we talk?” you hurriedly greeted him

#! he was taken aback, not expecting you to be right beside him and in his ear as soon as he came in

#! of course you weren’t, you made sure to put some space in between you and him

#! but suna was stressed and tired, so everything is intensified to him at the moment

#! “can you back up?” he mumbled, pushing his way from in front of you to walk to the kitchen

#! “oh, sorry. can we talk?” you sheepishly smiled, hoping he would say yes

#! you’re not blind, you can tell that suna was tired but you really didn’t wanna put this off

#! you were just gonna tell him, he gets surprised, you both talk it out, and then go to bed and continue figuring things out tomorrow morning

#! but before any of that can happen, suna bluntly told you, “no. i’m tired. i’m sure whatever it is isn’t a big deal. can it be tomorrow? i wanna sleep.”

#! you didn’t get to answer before he was already walking away to the bedroom

#! understanding where he was coming from, you mentally agreed to talk to him tomorrow. one day wouldn’t change anything and you’ve seen plenty of people not tell their partners until a few weeks in

#! he was right, it wasn’t a big deal (yet)

#! so you waited until tomorrow

#! and waited

#! and once again, he came home late

#! “hey! can we quickly talk, babe?”

#! “i’m tired. tomorrow, okay?”

#! “oh, okay. night, rin!”

#! “g’night.”

#! night came and there was still no talk

#! this continued on for about 2 weeks, you finally choosing to not care anymore and just let him find out whenever he finds out

#! technically, you could’ve just blurted out a simple, “i’m pregnant.” any point during your nightly five seconds conversations

#! but seeing that he really was tired, springing it onto him would either put him in a full body shock for three days or he just doesn’t fully process your words until three days after

#! a month has passed, your stomach was still barely showing like most women at their one month mark

#! you decided to book an appointment for a checkup, it’ll be while suna’s at practice

#! and that doctor appointment was the exact reason suna found out

#! he was at practice when komori entered the gym

#! he had a doctor’s appointment for his annual checkup, and that’s where he saw you

#! you didn’t see komori, busy reading the directory to find your way to the right office

#! but he saw you on the way out. seeing that you looked a bit busy, he chose not to greet you and just quickly walk to his car lmao why is this funny to me

#! entering the gym, he greeted everyone and apologized for his tardiness even though it was excused

#! walking up to suna, he tapped him on the shoulder and quietly told him, “i saw yn at the hospital earlier. it’s been awhile since we all got together huh, they looked a bit different.”

#! ok so komori, being the smart person he is, deducted that you were pregnant when he saw your finger pointing at the ob/gyn office

#! and he genuinely thought suna knew so his comment was suppose to be a small joke that was meant to tease suna and his sex life

#! suna, however, was confused

#! look different? did you get surgery?

#! “what do you mean?”

#! komori rolled his eyes and gave a sweet smile at suna, “congrats you two! when were you gonna tell the rest of us?”

#! suna: 👨‍🦲 huh

#! “are you guys not pregnant?” he blinked at suna’s frozen reaction

#! suna became unresponsive so komori just walked away mumbling to himself about being sure he read the sign right

#! a loud whistle blew and it shook suna out of his daze, everyone got ready to play a practice game of 3 vs 3 while suna ran over to the coach

#! “hey coach, um i think there’s an emergency at home. can i go? ok thanks.”

#! his coach just stares after him as he sprints off, you think? is there an emergency or not?

#! suna quickly drove home, he may or may not have speed a little, and entered the apartment

#! “yn? baby?” he called out only to be greeted back with silence

#! probably still at the hospital....what were you doing there? he thought to himself while rummaging around the house to find anything that could give him somewhat of an idea

#! he was digging around in the bedroom when you came home, his head so frenzied he didn’t hear the front door open

#! but you heard the ruckus from the bedroom and immediately went into fight or flight

#! panicking, you took out your phone to call suna while quietly opening the front door to make your way back out before the intruder catches you

#! the phone rang and rang until it was picked up. “suna?” you whisper-yelled into the speaker. you had a habit of calling him by his last name when you were freaking out. he noticed and was equally alarmed

#! “what’s wrong?” he whispered back just as panicked

#! “there’s someone in our apartment. can you come home?”

#! “huh? oh, are you home?” he cackles into the phone speaker making you move the phone away from your ear, “it’s me, sweets, c’mere.”

#! you warily walked on your tiptoes over to your bedroom, peeking your head in and what a surprise, it is suna

#! “jackass! why are you home?!”

#! “why didn’t you tell me?” he cut straight to the point

#! “huh?”

#! “you’re pregnant. when were you gonna tell me?” his voice sounding stern, but the quiet smile dancing on his face tells a different story

#! “i tried.”

#! “huh? what do you mean?”

#! “all those times i asked if we could talk. i was trying to tell you.”

#! his heart dropped, eyebrows furrowing, while he stared you down

#! suna became unresponsive once again, standing there trying to think back to the first time you asked him

#! two weeks ago

#! “i’m sorry,” he quietly whispers

#! “hm? i..it’s fine....i was a bit sad, but i’m over it. at least you know now,” you casually shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal

#! “no. i shouldn’t have pushed you aside like that. even if you weren’t pregnant, even if you had just wanted to tell me about some stupid video you saw that day, i shouldn’t have told you off. i’m sorry, i love you a lot and you deserve so much better.”

#! “tarō, shut up. i accept your apology and i forgive you, now make it up to me by giving me a back massage while i show you the ultrasound pictures!”

#! he kisses you before lifting you up bridal style making his way to the bed

SAKUSA

#! contrary to popular beliefs, sakusa is not an obsessive germaphobe who finds everything disgusting but you

#! he wouldn’t be playing volleyball if he was that afraid of germs,,,,,

#! yes, he cringes if random little kids grab onto him after games because 1) he’s drenched in sweat and that feeling is not fun

#! 2) he doesn’t even know themmm

#! and 3) he wanna go home

#! but sakusa loves you and if you happened to get pregnant, he would love your kid(s) just the same

#! however, he never told you this. he never really had a reason to voice this out loud

#! so when you actually did get pregnant, you were confused

#! the only interactions between sakusa and kids you’ve seen multiple times were the moments between him and his fans

#! you guys have been to family parties and his nieces, nephews, and cousins looooves him

#! maybe it’s the fact that he’s a tall looming giant and they just want to climb

#! but besides those moments, you don’t recall him ever telling you upfront that he wants children of his own

#! and the constant stress and pressure he always seem to be working around also doesn’t help reassure you in any way

#! being an athlete for a living means always watching your body, health, and looks for the cameras (but omi could care less about the last thing)

#! he also has to make sure whether or not he’s working well with his teammates, practice and improve on anything he’s having problems with, and deal with atsumu’s dramatic ass

#! you’re an overthinker and because of that, all of these reasons were just reasons for you to postpone the pregnancy news to your long term boyfriend

#! it wasn’t too hard anyway, considering practice runs late sometimes and he’s busy majority of the time doing other stuff

#! when you guys do have alone time together, you both are so focused on one another that you actually forget that you’re pregnant and you never told him

#! you’re about to hit the three months mark now — time goes by fast — and sakusa has noticed you and your body changing

#! at first he just thought you were going through a phase of cravings and a bit of bloating, so he didn’t mention it and just let you be

#! he never got to witness you getting morning sickness because he goes on early runs or he was just out doing morning errands so he wouldn’t have to deal with it later that day

#! so when he caught you in the kitchen cutting up a lemon, the last thing he was expecting you to do was bring the lemon directly up to your mouth

#! “uh, what are you doing?” his deep voice caught you off guard, effectively stopping the hand that was holding the lemon

#! you just stare at him, not wide-eyed, not surprised, just stare

#! “eating a lemon.”

#! “i can see that.... why exactly?”

#! “dunno, the baby i guess.” you casually shrugged it off before popping the lemon slice into your mouth

#! “ah-,” he opened his mouth to stop you from eating the lemon, your words not fully processing in his mind, but cut off midway and froze when he finally realized

#! hearing him pause like that made you suddenly remembered that you never told him you were pregnant

#! you slowly turned back to look at him, mouth still slowly chewing the lemon slices

#! a moment of silence later, he unfreezes and just starts stiffly walking towards you

#! he grabbed you by the shoulders, made you look him in the eyes, before whispering, “you’re pregnant?!”

#! “y-yes..”

#! his eyes were wide, black pupils expanding as he stared you down, his lips slowly curving into a small smile

#! “you’re pregnant....,” he whispers, mainly to himself, hugging your head into his chest

#! “mhm, get off me i’m trying to eat,” you gently pushed him off but he wouldn’t budge

#! “omiiii please, if you get off i’ll give you a slice,” you tried bribing him. he couldn’t tell if you were being serious or just teasing

#! “no.”

#! “um ok, two slices?”

#! “no.”

#! “omi!”

#! he giggles before opening his arms to let you go

#! “why didn’t you tell me?”

#! you didn’t reply right away, making him start to overthink

#! did you not want the baby? or did you not want a kid with him? did you not want to be with him anymore? or was it not his?!

#! he childishly shakes his head side to side at the last question. he knew you wouldn’t do that

#! but you were still silent, making him nervously glance at you from the side

#! “sorry, piece of lemon stuck in my teeth. i just forgot to tell you,” the words easily flowing out of your mouth nonchalantly

#! sakusa’s fingers were literally about to start twitching from anxiousness beside you

#! a sigh of relief was heard from him and you turned to look at him

#! “you okay?”

#! he doesn’t answer, just gives you a smile and goes back to hugging you from behind

SEMI

#! you were currently sitting on the couch in your shared apartment waiting for semi to come home

#! he’s been on tour for a few months now, you both kept in touch by facetiming, texting, calling, and any other methods of virtual communication

#! you would tune into the live recording of all of his performances when you had time so you could watch him

#! a few weeks into tour, you suddenly felt different than usual but shook it off as nothing and probably just you missing your boyfriend

#! you believed that until one morning you were woken up by the sudden urge to throw up, dashing to the restroom as fast as your drowsy body can go

#! it was then that you realized you might be pregnant

#! the night before semi left, you both had sex to enjoy your last few hours together before he had to leave for a few months

#! with the new realization, you quickly dressed yourself to make a short trip to the store to pick up some tests

#! after half an hour of looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to wrap your head around this, you finally opened the first box

#! a few minutes later, all 5 tests were lined up on the bathroom counter showing positive

#! you stared at the tests, trying to make sure you weren’t reading it wrong

#! once you began to understand the responsibility of being pregnant a few hours later, you made a mental note to go out and buy some food for yourself the next day

#! you decided to sleep off the rest of that day

#! through all of the facetime calls with semi, you never once told him you were pregnant

#! you knew that if you told him he would freak out and either demand to go back home, or stay but all of his attention would be on you being pregnant alone at home for the rest of the tour

#! so here you are now, sitting with a 4 1/2 months baby bump waiting for your beloved to come home

#! it was around 6pm when the front door opened, sounds of shuffling bags and heavy steps could be heard from the musician

#! he cursed under his breath when he almost tripped over a duffle bag with some of his loungewear, calling out for you as he walks further into the apartment, “baby? i’m home!”

#! he was about to speak up again when he saw you asleep on the couch

#! bouncing his way over, he got onto his knees at the edge of the couch to observe your face. god i miss you, he thought to himself

#! he gently shakes you awake, you jolted in surprise not knowing you fell asleep in the first place

#! “hmm- what?,” soft murmurs falling from your lips as you adjusted your eyes at your surrounding

#! “eita!” he grinned at you, both of you pulling each other into a hug

#! “fuck, i miss you so much.” he whispered into your ears before placing his face into your neck

#! “i miss you more.” you tightened your grip around him making him move up on the couch to get more comfortable

#! you both moved around until he had you cradled in between him, your back against his chest

#! his hands going under your his shirt to caress you there when his movements stopped right on top of your stomach

#! it was silent as his warm hands rubbed your stomach in circles, the gears turning in his head

#! “are you- you feel- why’s your tum so round and hard?” he quizzically asked, still rubbing your stomach

#! “pregnant.” your voice a low whisper, he almost didn’t catch it

#! “what?”

#! “pregnant.” you repeated, a bit louder this time

#! “huh?”

#! “pregnant!” you sighed, moving his hand so you can get off of him

#! he grabs your wrist to stop you from walking away and turns you to look at him

#! “you’re pregnant?!”

#! “i just said that. yes.”

#! you knew you sounded blunt and a bit mean, it wasn’t his fault he doesn’t know at all, but your hormones have been making you crankier and it’s out of your control

#! “sorry. yes, i’m pregnant.”

#! his eyes continuously darts up and down from your eyes to your bump

#! “how long?”

#! “since you left.”

#! “was it the night before?” he was referring to your act of intimacy the night before he left

#! “yea.”

#! “wow. why didn’t you tell me?”

#! “because.”

#! “‘cuz what?”

#! “because i know you. you would either stop touring and come home, or stay but lose focus. i was just trying to not distract you because i know how important your career is to you. and because i thought that you’ll be having a six months break after this tour before your next comeback, i would tell you when you came home. i’m sorry if you’re ma-,”

#! “i’m not mad. oh don’t cry, babe, look at me.”he carefully cups your face, “it’s okay, it’s okay. i get why you kept it from me. and now that i have no schedule for the next six months, i can be there for you until the end of your pregnancy and the beginning of our baby’s life alright?”

#! you weakly nodded against his palms, and he brings you back down to lay your head on his chest as you both softly talk about the past months without each other

[postalenha]

on and off % jake

pairing: playboybf!jake x reader genre: angst, fluff, lovers to exes, exes to lovers idek word count: 1.89k words requested: yes / prompt 14, “we called it off again last night.” / 18, “it’s been you all along.” / 19, “for the first time, i had something to lose.” synopsis: immaturity isn't needed in a relationship, but that seems to be jake's and your's specialty. warnings: curse words, mentions of drinking, throwing up, su!cide, toxic relationship, making out

"i thought you're going with jake today?" sunghoon asked as you hop into his car.

you rolled your eyes at the thought of riding in the same vehicle as the boy, "no, we called it off again last night."

"again?!" the boy exclaimed, "y/n, that's probably the nth time you guys called it off." he sighed in disbelief, "that's not how relationships work." he commented.

judgingly looking at his way, "yeah? like you know any better?"

"shut up." he started the engine, "this isn't about my love life."

"whatever." you blurt out, "i guess being bad at handling relationship runs in our blood." you jokingly said, as your cousin laugh.

he tilt his head smiling, "damn, of all things that can be passed down, that's what we got."

"well, at least we got good looks. that works as a payoff." he added. you agreed at him with a nod, "anyway." you changed the subject.

"i'm planning on ending it with jake." you stated. he looked at you, "no shit, you sure?" he assured, "to be honest, whatever makes you happy." he added, looking like he wanted to say something but he decided not to.

"don't apologize." you led before he could even say sorry for insisting that you should date his best friend, sim jaeyun.

"i'm not- okay whatever." he almost want to deny the urge but he saw you looking at him with a teasing face, "i just feel a little responsible for all the stress this relationship have caused you." he scratch the back of his head, as you slap his arm.

"shut up, dating him was my decision. you don't have to blame yourself for all the bad decisions i made for myself. i'm an adult now." you told him.

parking his car he nod his head, "okay. just remember i'm here if things are bad, okay?"

"okay." you said, before going out of his car. walking at the corridor of your building, trying to see if jake arrived earlier than you today.

and he certainly did. there he is on his designated seat beside the window, silently watching as the wilted leaves fall down from the tree.

the clock ticks time faster than you expected and your professor came in, not able to call out for jake's name to even talk to him.

sitting down to a chair, you told yourself that you'll talk to him later. and here you are, in front of jake sim at the rooftop of your university's main building.

it might be your lucky day for no one else is here but the two of you. this place is usually cramped with so many people and miraculously today isn't one of those days.

this may be one of the many signs sent from above that this relationship should end as it wasn't right from the beginning.

your blood boils as your cousin sunghoon pushes you into the table of his friend group, "come on! you wouldn't lose anything! he just want to talk to you." he shouts.

"then tell him i don't want to!" you shout back a little annoyed. the last thing you want to do tonight is talk to the famous serial dater, jake sim. "for i know, he just wants the best out of me!"

"come on! jake's not like that!" he defended his friend. to be honest, sunghoon is the last person you should be ranting to. for he is just like his friend, they play with girl's hearts for fun.

you rolled your eyes as you reach the table of ego. the decision of naming that wasn't yours, but the other students. they called this the table of ego because everyone in here got some solid ego. heeseung, jay, sunghoon, jake. all of them.

"y/n! you actually came!" heeseung cheered as soon as he saw you, he scooted a little bit on his right to leave some space between him and jake, "come sit!"

sitting beside him was probably one of the decisions you will forever regret in your life. the memory of that night was a blur. you barely recall anything that happened then.

the only thing that you remember was when jake was reaching for a kiss, you accidentally threw up on him before passing out.

the next day, he told you to be his girlfriend to compensate with the mess you gave his brand new shirt. you said yes just so he could shut up, telling yourself you'll break up with him after a day or two.

two months then passed and you are just breaking everything now. well, it's better late than never. you just didn't expect that he would actually be a good boyfriend.

he's mostly good, not until everything gets complicated even with nothing. you fight over the smallest thing like, not being able to respond to each other's text to someone getting jealous.

it wasn't the best relationship you've been in but it was a good experience. you learned so much and now, it's time to move on.

"what is it that you wanted to say?" jake impatiently snapped you back into reality. you swallowed a good amount of saliva before saying, "let's break up."

it was better to say it forward than beating around the bush. with this, more time and energy will be saved. because even if you give him an explanation he probably won't listen.

he slowly blinked and sighed, looking away he said "okay. if that's what you want." see. he wouldn't even bother asking you why.

well, if you get things easy. they would also go easily, "okay. it was fun meeting you." you head out, leaving him there.

he most probably would not be so upset that he might think of jumping off the building, but you still prayed that he wont.

and he didn't. you can guarantee that as you see that three weeks later jake sim is with a woman walking the same isle as you are. the chances of you seeing him here at this huge mall was small, but never impossible.

you grabbed your friend's hand trying to hide from the sight of the man, "what are you doing-"

"shut up, jake is here." you told here looking at their way, walking into a clothing store. you hurriedly go and sit at a restaurant far from them and ordered food when your friend speak up.

"y/n, what's the point of hiding now when you guys already broke up?" she patheticly looked at you who's trying to hide from a menu list.

putting the menu list down on the table, you crossed your arms, "i am not hiding from him. i simply don't want to involve myself with anything that has to do with him."

"yeah, like seeing him in a shopping mall involves you with him." she said with full sarcasm. "you have no idea how pathetic that sounded."

not listening to anything she said, you started eating your pasta. almost choking when you saw a familliar figure walk in the restaurant.

trying your best to lean down and not get noticed you hear your friend call, "jake!" you kick her feet under the table as you see jake wave back and walks closer.

"what the fuck did you just do?" you whispered at her, she just smiles like an idiot as jake reach your table.

"hello, jia." he greeted your friend, "hi, y'n."

flashing a fake smile, you said "hi." satisfied with how annoyed you are, jia announced "you guys can join us! we got two extra seats here."

"we don't want to intrude-" you cut him off, "yes, there are a lot of vacant tables. they sure can find their own, right?"

serving a glass of wine, a waiter says "oh, we're fully booked, ma'am. so if you want to eat here, you have to wait for another hour or so." he said pouring some on your glass. "if you'll excuse me."

"it would be rude if we don't invite you right? so join!" your friend cheered as the girl jake's with sit next to you.

taking a sip of your wine whenever jake helps the girl cut her steak, you became unaware of how drunk you are. "so, when did you meet jake?" you asked the girl.

to be frank, she was quiet the whole time. just sitting there, not saying a thing but a "thanks." whenever jake helps her with anything.

"you can't answer that? well can you tell me if you are able to use your hands to their purpose? like cutting off a steak or puring your own glass of wine?"

"y/n-" your friend tried to stop you. but you didn't listen. you just continued to blabber nonsense until jake grabbed your wrist to the bathroom.

shaking your hand off his grip you screamed at him asking, "why did you bring me here?!"

"y/n why are you being so rude?" he calmly asked you.

you sarcastically laughed, "i'm being rude? who's more rude when you're out here eating at the same table as your ex-girlfriend and your current girlfriend?"

"current girlfriend- y/n that's my cousin!" he tried to calm himself by breathing slowly, pushing the side of his mouth using his tounge "do you really think i could replace you that fast?"

the sudden question made you feel like someone cut off your tounge. because you mostly have answer for everything but this. his question caught you off guard.

"when you broke up with me, i never asked why. i knew you were tired and i don't want to exhaust you more." you hear his voice shake as he speak. "i was also tired and we both needed a break."

you looked straight at his eyes that are sparkling from moist done by the tears that he have been trying so hard to hold back, "but as time pass by, i felt more and more empty. there is a big mark of you in my heart that ever since you left, no one has ever filled."

"nobody could ever fit in, but you." cupping your face he also wipe your tears away. "i never felt that way before. it's like, for the first time, i had something to lose."

"jake, i-" it was as if you forgot how to compose a word. you never knew he felt the same way you did when you broke up with him.

maybe sunghoon was more of your cousin than he is jake's friend. because if jake only knew how many times you told sunghoon that you miss him, he would've came back faster than this.

he smiled pulling you into a hug, "it's fine if you don't feel the same way anymore. i understand that. but i just want you to know that i am not the douchebag you think i am."

pulling away from the hug, you see his eyes were bloodshot "sorry, the last thing i want to do is make you cry-" you pulled him into a kiss not letting another word out of his mouth.

running out of breath, you seperated his lips from yours. you widely smiled at him, "it’s been you all along."

kissing outside a three star restaurant's restroom isn't as ideal as other comeback stories, but you wouldn't ask for anything else. as long as you have jake in your arms, your heart is content.

[insomnia-productions]

jonelias fake dating bullet fic

help

So Jon’s about a month into his new position as Head Archivist. it’s… fine. this is fine. gertrude was a mess, clearly, and elias is even more of a mess for allowing things to get this bad, but it’s fine. it’s fine. he’s fine.

yes, really, martin, stop asking,

And he’s - look, he’s always been a diligent person, always very committed to his work, so naturally he would spend every waking minute trying to organize the Archives, and naturally he would forget to sleep once or twice or five times a week, and honestly so what if he hasn’t actually touched his bed in nine days? It’s not like the lack of sleep is impeding his brain function. Much.

So it’s a bright and sunny morning in the Institute, and he’s up in one of the many libraries, looking up something about what may or may not have been a sentient kitchen sponge, and one of the researchers comes up to him looking oddly red and kind of stumbling over her words and oh lord no he’s being asked out

He quickly stutters through a rejection, but instead of just accepting it like a normal person (though, in fairness, what normal person would work at the Magnus Institute?), she asks him why not

like. what the fuck.

And Jon isn’t exactly the nicest or most tactful person, but even he isn’t about to look this woman in the eye and tell her that he just straight up does not like her. he’s not even sure he knows her name. there is a whole realm of possibility as to what reason he could give, like he’s too busy, or he isn’t looking to date anyone right now, but those would sound too much like excuses, wouldn’t they, rather than valid reasons to reject her.

He picks the worst option.

“I’m already seeing someone, actually.”

An eyebrow goes up. She looks him up and down. A second eyebrow goes up.

“Really? Who?”

Fuck. Now he has .2 seconds to make up a love story. He’s too tired for this, and he’s never been one for love stories. What makes for a believable romance? And in that panicked, sleep-deprived instant, his eyes fall on a portrait of Jonah Magnus nestled between two shelves, and somehow that prompts a spectacularly terrible response.

“Uh. Elias.”

Twenty minutes later he’s sitting at his desk in a spiral of anxiety. It’s fine, though, right? That woman will probably keep it to herself, and she’s just some random researcher, there’s no way anyone else will hear about his stupid comment. There’s no way Elias will hear about it - and even if he does, Elias has always been a pretty laid back boss, maybe he’ll even find it funny?

Oh lord he’s going to die  

The next day, everyone has heard about it. Jon can just feel it in the way people’s eyes follow him. Tim and Sasha give him twin funny looks, kind of half-disbelieving, half-amused. Jon slams his office door slightly harder than necessary. He puts it forcefully from his mind, and the day passes without incident. Until.

It’s the end of the day. Jon is walking towards the Institute’s main doors. Half the Institute seems to be there (fair enough, it is closing time), gathered in bunches, talking quietly, eyes flitting to him and away. Tim and Sasha are sitting on their Gossip Couch in the lobby, watching him. Elias is there, and waves him over, holding something that looks like a statement. Of course, today would be the day he decides to get involved in the archives.

Jon begrudgingly walks over. The second he reaches Elias’ side, Tim’s voice rings across the lobby. He’s walking towards them, saying something about hearing the most interesting thing from a woman in research, and how long have they been together?

Elias looks at him. Jon can see the instant when he realizes what’s happened, and, more importantly, he can see the precise moment when Elias decides to make things infinitely worse, because his eyes light up like he’s just been offered a second Christmas.

Elias turns back to Tim and, entirely matter-of-factly, says, “Two weeks.”

Tim, honestly, had not been expecting it to be true.

It’s bad. It’s bad, but… it could be worse. Two weeks isn’t a long time. It’s not like Elias has gone and made up an entire marriage or something. Jon will just put up with his coworker’s teasing for a couple of weeks, and then drop some vague comment about being too busy to date, and an amicable breakup, and that will be the end of the whole ordeal. This is fine.

Jon goes straight to Elias’ office the next morning to tell him just that, ignoring Tim and Sasha’s loud whistles as he reaches that particular set of stairs. He gets through a begrudging thank-you and a short explanation of his game plan, but once he’s done, Elias just folds his hands on his desk and smiles in a perfectly pleasant way that makes Jon feel like a minnow suspended between the open jaws of a shark.

Elias, as it turns out, has a party coming up next month, hosted by the Fairchilds, although Jon doesn’t know that name just yet. It’s an opportunity to garner more funds for the Institute, and he suspects one of the Lukases is going to ask him to it. Elias can’t afford to offend the Lukases, but he would also prefer to avoid getting roped into dating one of them again - (again??) - so why not stretch this fake dating thing out just a little longer.

Well, Jon thinks, there’s no harm in it, really. It’s just a month, just a party. And he does owe Elias for covering for him yesterday. So he agrees.

A week after the party, he’s preparing to drop his breakup comments over tea in the breakroom, when his cousin calls to invite him to her wedding. Bring a plus one! Oh god. He can already hear all the aunties, asking him when he’s going to settle down, why he hasn’t found someone yet. He bites his tongue on the breakup comment, puts his cup down, and walks up to Elias’ office.

It becomes a sort of unspoken agreement. Fake dating isn’t even hard; they’re adults with jobs, after all, not high schoolers spending every waking moment together. It’s an arrangement of convenience, more than anything, and the only thing that changes between them is that Elias visits the Archives more than he used to, and they talk more, and one time at one of Elias’ parties they danced, and it was nice, actually.

Meanwhile, for Jonah’s part, he’s having a baller time. Fake dating is such a small, petty thing, but the scheming that goes into laying out all the right little hints of domesticity, not to mention the fun of walking the line between performing for the others and legitimately flirting with Jon, always just short of anything that couldn’t be explained away - it’s like a fun, relaxing warm-up to his more important schemes.

Plus, he now has an excuse to spend more time with Jon, evaluating and pushing and molding the man who will become his Archive. It isn’t hard - and people like Jane Prentiss and Jurgen Leitner and the not-Them make it all the more easy.

On which note - Jane Prentiss happens. The Archives are in upheaval, someone definitely murdered Gertrude, and Jon is freaking out. Someone - Sasha, this person is Sasha - comes up to him to tell him that he shouldn’t be alone right now. Any good boyfriend would take him home, take care of him after something so traumatic. Elias is sitting next to him, and he gives Sasha a strange, sharp smile, and just as she’d suggested, he takes Jon home. Jon is too caught up in stress and exhaustion and who killed gertrude to remember that Elias is not, in fact, his actual boyfriend.

Maybe some part of him recalls, somewhere between the part where Elias so carefully tends to his wounds and the part where they fall asleep curled around each other, that this is not what fake-dating-at-parties-for-mutual-convenience is supposed to entail, but he’s so tired and there are so many bigger things to worry about than whether or not this is a boundary they shouldn’t cross.

He wakes up with Elias’ arms around him and Elias’ fingers combing gently through hair, and after that the line between fake dating and actually being in a relationship just gets blurrier and blurrier. But nothing really happens, not yet. Jon is in the midst of a murder investigation, after all - one even Elias is still a suspect in, warm mornings together or not. So they remain walking that line for months and months as Jon sinks further into paranoia, isolated from everyone - except Elias, who stays by his side like the supportive boyfriend he isn’t.

And then there’s the table. And the thing that is not Sasha. And Jurgen Leitner. And now he’s the one being suspected of murder. Jon does what has become his habit over the past two years when he is faced with a social situation he feels ill-equipped to deal with on his own. He goes to Elias.

And Jonah starts to rework his plans.

Maybe the fact that they now live together will make getting Jon marked by the fears harder, maybe it will take longer for him to be ready for the Watcher’s Crown. Maybe it will add years to his plans. But what good is a world without someone to rule it with? Maybe even, with time and patience, someone willing? Jonah’s waited 200 years to perform his ritual; for his Archive, he can wait a few more.

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 18: I’m Sakusa Kia

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[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

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Kia’s short autobiography.

Hi I’m Kia.

My mama is (L/N) (F/N). I didn’t have a papa. I didn’t have a big family. My family is only mama and Kia. But in mama’s bedtime stories, she describes my papa as tall handsome prince with black curly hair. A very caring and loving prince. My mama loves my papa very much but he’s not with us.

I have two favorite uncles. Keikei and Kenken. They give me clothes, books, toys and they play with me. But I don’t see them everyday because they have work and are far from my mama and me. They are always worried about mama.

I’m worried about mama too.

She always cried.

She cried when grandma told her to put me at a house so she could study. But mama said she didn’t want to be separated from me. I couldn’t speak yet. But if I could, I would have told her to leave me because I know she’ll come back for me. And I’ll wait for her.

She cried when we moved out of grandma’s house. Maybe that’s why she was sad. Cause she will miss grandma. I miss grandma too but she told us never to come back. She said she didn’t want see Kia or mama again.

We found a new home. It was small like a box but mama and I fit in it. We played and ate on the floor. But every night, only mama slept on the floor. I was in the crib, sleeping on soft fabric. I heard mama cry there too. Maybe because her back hurt.

We were playing house one day and she cried. She told me to be a good girl then mama slept for very very very long. Keikei came and picked me up. I stayed in his house for a long time until mama came back. I waited like the good girl mama told me to be.

We transferred to a bigger house and mama didn’t sleep on the floor anymore. We had a couch and a bed. I thought mama would be happier. But she still cried because she didn’t eat. I gave her my milk and she smiled again. I love mama’s smiles.

When she thought I was asleep, I heard her cry again. She talked on the phone with Keikei and Kenken that she’s worried if she could still feed me or send me to a good school. She said she felt lonely. I wanted to tell her I don’t even know what school is and I was there for her but she’ll get mad that I was awake. So when she came back, I hugged her tight. She always hugged me tight to help me sleep better.

That night she also told me that she couldn’t give me all the best things in the world but she promised she’ll give me all her love. But that’s crazy, right? How could she love Kia even more? She loves me way too much already. And mama is the best thing in the world!

We moved to Tokyo and met uncle Momo. After that I met my new grandma and grandpa. And my uncles and aunties and cousins. And my great grandma. And my cousin’s dog. My other cousin’s cat.

I also I met Kyo.

I didn’t like Kyo. Mama cried after she saw him. She cried all night. She wasn’t able to sleep. Maybe he was bad to mama that’s why she was crying?

Keikei told me Kyo was my papa. But he was mean to me. He hated Kia. How could he be my papa?

He didn’t like feeding me. He hated changing my diapers. He wouldn’t sleep beside me. He doesn’t carry me. He hates it when I talk or follow him around the house. He shouted at me for coloring on his wall.

But he loves me now!

He protected me from that doctor. He also said sorry for shouting at me. And he told me a bedtime story. He played ball with me and my new other uncles. We went to a flower field and took pictures. We rode the big teacups.

Kyo also gives the best hugs. He carries me around the house all the time. He lets me follow him except when he goes to work. No matter how hard I cry, he doesn’t bring me with him. But he gives me promise kisses so I let him go.

Kyo said he loves me more than mama but I’m sure he’s lying. He kisses mama more than he kisses me. But still, he loves me. He even proposed to me! He gave me a ring!

Mama also stopped crying ever since we moved in with Kyo. Maybe because he takes care of mama. He cooks food for mama. He hugs mama. He kisses mama. He loves mama. She isn’t lonely anymore. She has me and Kyo.

My family got bigger. I have more uncles, cousins, grandma and grandpa. I have mama. And I have Kyo, my papa.

End of Kia’s autobiography.

“And Sakusa finishes the match! 24-26!” The commentator says, the whole arena roaring in cheers. You and Kia jump from your seats, thrilled by Kiyoomi’s last spike. He looks at the two of you, grinning proudly.

“Papa, I love you!” Kia shouts. Kiyoomi actually can not hear her but he manages to read her little lips. She does a big heart with her arms, the tips of her fingers on top or her head. She’s hoping he’ll respond.

“I love you too!” Kiyoomi shouts back, doing a heart shape with his arms too. Kia squeals, happy that her father responded. He does not care about the crowd watching and cameras flashing. It’s just him and his daughter. And you of course.

“I love you,” you mouth to him, and his lips turn into a teasing smirk. He blows a kiss to you, but you don’t catch it. You’re not your high school self anymore. You actually feel shame now. You’re aware that almost everyone in the place is staring at you. Who isn’t curious about the person that the impassive Sakusa Kiyoomi in love? He’s even making hearts and throwing kisses at you.

Kia huffs at you. “You have to catch papa’s kiss!” You look at Kiyoomi and he’s looking at you with hope in his eyes. You sigh, then raise your hand acting as if you’re catching something. You kiss the palm and your hand and the crowd roars once again. You hid your face, burying it on Kia’s backpack.

After that commotion in the arena, you and Kia head to the backstage of the press conference, where their manager told you to wait. You sit at one of the plastic chairs, settling Kia on your lap.

After the opponents team interview, Kiyoomi finally goes up to the stage with Atsumu and Hinata. Kia hears her father’s voice so she slides her way down your lap and run to the stage. Before you could even catch her, she is already entering under the table of where the players are being interviewed.

Hinata is the first one on the table, so he yelps when he feels someone under it. He lifts the table cloth to check what it is and see Kia crawling to her father. He silently chuckles and continues to watch her journey.

“I actually think the team is in gre-” Kiyoomi stops talking mid-sentence as he feels someone grab on his calves. He lifts the cover only to see his daughter show off a toothy grin. “What are you doing here?”

Bokuto and Atsumu check, too, curious on why Kiyoomi suddenly stopped talking. They see Kia and can’t stop themselves from smiling. The press is curious, too. Taking pictures at different angles so maybe they can capture whoever is under the table. You palm your face, scolding Kia inside your head.

“I miss papa,” Kia replies to Kiyoomi’s her eyes glistening. How can he ever say no to his princess?

“Wanna sit on my lap?” Kia nods at his suggestion. He picks her up from the floor then sits her on his lap. She sees the camera and cowers to Kiyoomi’s chest. “Go say hi.”

Kia leans close to the mic, her lips close to the mic just like how she observed while you were still sitting. Kiyoomi pulls her back a little, making sure her lips doesn’t touch the dirty mic. The room is silent, waiting for Kia to speak. She glances at Kiyoomi and he gives her a reassuring pat on the head.

“Introduce yourself. What’s your name?” Kiyoomi guides. Kia nods, understanding his statement.

“Hi, I’m Sakusa Kia. My mama is (L/N) (F/N) and my papa is Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

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Facts:

Babies who are only a few weeks old, can store their memory for 2 days. By the time they reach 5 months, they can familiarize photos for as long as 14 days.

There are two major types of memories: explicit and implicit. Explicit memories recall events that has a time and place. Implicit memories do not recall specific events, they recollect emotions.

Children 7 years old below remember more implicit memories than explicit memories, unlike adults who remembers the latter more.

Kia is most likely not to remember all these events but will remember what she felt from it.

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Taglist:  @elianetsantana aoi-turtle ptv-hades  aquzairus a-applepi  justoneofthefangirlsarianna-r13 morenabambinii chaelysian loser-keiji mxngy ne-kuroon1fangirlsblog d-efend missalicebaskervillemarvelousbakugou @agaashesmilktea​ bonkyandloki kimi09 ntimacy @mkazuyuh  ushi-please minty-mangos-world @dearest-kiyoomi​ yeehawslap  onlyshinji obsessedwhxre

[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

random thoughts about aegon vi and septa lemore

Apparently, it’s Aegon’s week. i don’t think i ever paticipated in these events for any character or pairing, but @agentrouka-blog​’s theory that septa Lemore is Ashara Dayne and that the baby switch was between Aegon and her rumoured child (instead of random kid) showed up on my dash today.

Lemore being Ashara Dayne and there having been baby switch like theorised would be fantastic, because she’d know a lot of stuff that is otherwise impossible to know. She knows who dishonoured her at Harrenhal (we all know Brandon, not Ned). She knows about Wylla, a wetnurse from the Dayne Household, who Eddard Stark and Edric Dayne both say is Jon’s mother (we all know Jon is Lyanna’s, so this apparent lie version being told by two different people who have nothing to do with one another seems to suggest a combined lie between Ned and the Daynes). She knows about Jon because Ned went to Starfall with him and (if baby switch theory is true), she can confirm Aegon VI is real.

There’s also the suspicious narrative choice of a “Targ” (not even, she has dark hair, not silver hair, even if she has purple eyes) getting with an impetuous Stark at Harrenhal and a secret child never really going anywhere. What’s the point of that besides shading Rhaegar plus Lyanna equals Jon? This I always thought was suspicious, but this theory would *poof* make it make sense.

TYRION III ~ ADWD

This is the chapter where Aegon VI Targaryen is first introduced. The whole chapter is like a “perigrination” to find him. I am of the opinion that Aegon VI is the real thing for a long time now and there’s evidence that might be the case in this very chapter where he’s introduced.

"How fares our lad?" asked Illyrio as the chests were being secured. Tyrion counted six, oaken chests with iron hasps. Duck shifted them easily enough, hoisting them on one shoulder.

This is shortly after the chapter starts. Not only Illyrio asks about Aegon, there’s also the imagery of six chests about. If Aegon is crowned king of Westeros, he’ll be Aegon VI Targaryen.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

"There is a gift for the boy in one of the chests. Some candied ginger. He was always fond of it." Illyrio sounded oddly sad.

This is often used as a clue that Aegon VI is fake. Illyrio is expressing some sentimental attachment, so there are theories that he could be the father and the mother would be some Valyrian looking wife he has. it has its merits.

On the other hand, Aegon VI is on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes his hair another colour, but most importantly in this passage, is Aegon’s fond of a specific sweet that what we would at first mistake for a father for the reasons pointed above gifts him with.

This is 1:1 what’s going on with Sansa, she’s on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes her hair another colour, she’s fond of a specific sweet (lemoncakes) and Littlefinger, who’s pretending to be her father and is very... emotionally invested... in her, gifts her with some (well, in parternship with her cousin, but the cousin is another matter).

By parallel, Aegon is real.++

Tyrion craned his head to one side, and saw a boy standing on the roof of a low wooden building, waving a wide-brimmed straw hat. He was a lithe and well-made youth, with a lanky build and a shock of dark blue hair.

Aegon is inrroduced standing above the rest, literally high-standing.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

An older couple with a Rhoynish cast to their features stood close beside the tiller, whilst a handsome septa in a soft white robe stepped through the cabin door and pushed a lock of dark brown hair from her eyes.

This is actually what I came for, Lemore.

Why a septa would be described as “handsome” when that should have no relevance since she’s supposed to be chaste (I know, it’s Tyrion, but still)? Ashara Dayne is described by many as being beautiful, arrestingly so. If Lemore is Ashara, “handsome” is a good way to describe her beauty still.

Lemore has dark brown hair. Ashara is described as having long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders. More importantly, Lemore's first actions is push her hair from her eyes. Like, pay attention to this woman’s eyes, even though they’re not described ever (not even their colour).

TYRION IV ~ ADWD

Tyrion had drunk himself blind his first night on the Shy Maid. The next day he awoke with dragons fighting in his skull.

So yes, the night after Tyrion meets Aegon and his party for the first time, he dreams of dragons fighting. Take note these are dragons, not a fake dragon in whatever way and a dragon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

The clouds in the sky were aglow: pink and purple, maroon and gold, pearl and saffron. One looked like a dragon. Once a man has seen a dragon in flight, let him stay at home and tend his garden in content, someone had written once, for this wide world has no greater wonder. Tyrion scratched at his scar and tried to recall the author's name. Dragons had been much in his thoughts of late.

One of those clouds looks like a dragon. There’s no dragons with these colours BUT Targs have purple eyes and Viseryion, a dragon I believe is a narrative stand-in for Aegon VI, is described as cream and gold, so one colour here. Honestly, the important here is that Tyrion is associating dragons around Aegon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

"Good morrow, Hugor." Septa Lemore had emerged in her white robes, cinched at the waist with a woven belt of seven colors. Her hair flowed loose about her shoulders. "How did you sleep?"

Holy shit.

“Even after all these years, Ser Barristan could still recall Ashara's smile, the sound of her laughter. He had only to close his eyes to see her, with her long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and those haunting purple eyes.

"Fitfully, good lady. I dreamed of you again." A waking dream. He could not sleep, so he had eased a hand between his legs and imagined the septa atop him, breasts bouncing.

"A wicked dream, no doubt. You are a wicked man. Will you pray with me and ask forgiveness for your sins?"

Only if we pray in the fashion of the Summer Isles. "No, but do give the Maiden a long, sweet kiss for me."

Laughing, the septa walked to the prow of the boat. It was her custom to bathe in the river every morning.

"Plainly, this boat was not named for you," Tyrion called as she disrobed.

"The Mother and the Father made us in their image, Hugor. We should glory in our bodies, for they are the work of gods."

Yeah, it’s Tyrion, who’d sexualise a rock, but this is a septa who deserves respect. Yet, this is how the writer “paints” the reader’s first interaction with this new character. These are always the most striking moments when establishing a character and sex imagery is what the writer decided to do.

Also Lemore not only knows that Tyrion’s fantasising about having sex with her and doesn’t give a shit, she laughs instead, gets naked to bathe, and doesn’t give a shit if others look at her naked body. This doesn’t feel like a septa. I mean, I remember Mordane and the zealots at King’s Landing who screwed with Cersei. They have nothing on this.

The way she puts why she has no problems with naked bodies and the like also suggest some kind of “free spirit” which goes well with the (disgusting, but there) dornish wanton woman trope and being dishonoured by Brandon at Harrenhal.

Another thing to note, is that Tyrion also clearly says the “Shy Maid” wasn’t named after Lemore, which suggests she’s neither shy nor a maid. This is confirmed by her actions and by...

The dwarf watched Lemore slip into the water. The sight always made him hard. There was something wonderfully wicked about the thought of peeling the septa out of those chaste white robes and spreading her legs. Innocence despoiled, he thought … though Lemore was not near as innocent as she appeared. She had stretch marks on her belly that could only have come from childbirth.

Lemore was pregnant at one point!

When Lemore climbed back onto the deck, Tyrion savored the sight of water trickling between her breasts, her smooth skin glowing golden in the morning light. She was past forty, more handsome than pretty, but still easy on the eye. Being randy is the next best thing to being drunk, he decided. It made him feel as if he was still alive. "Did you see the turtle, Hugor?" the septa asked him, wringing water from her hair. "The big ridgeback?"

This disparity of behaviour between septa Lemore and any other septa in ASOIAF is VERY suspicious.  Note how Lemore has two mysteries about her already, she’s characterised nothing like any septa in ASOIAF (more like the tasteless “dornish wanton woman” sterotype instead) and a mystery child. What’s the point of that, if she’s irrelevant.

Compare how he Yandry and Ysilla couple is treated, where there are no bizarre things taking place that I noticed. Also Yandry and Ysilla are specifically said to be a pair of Dornish orphans. Why is the image of Dornish people here, along with Lemore? Suspicious, suspicious.

Lemore is “past fourty”. The asoiaf wiki lists Ashara Dayne as being born between 260AC and 269AC, which means that she’d be around this age if she had lived.

The imagery of a (false, but still) maidtaking a bath while men watch is the same as Florian and Jonquil song, an event that legend says happened at Maidenpool (close to... yes, that’s right, Harrenhal, where Ashara met Brandon).

"The turtles have their charms, I will allow. Nothing delights me so much as the sight of a nice pair of shapely … shells.

"Septa Lemore laughed. Like everyone else aboard the Shy Maid, she had her secrets. She was welcome to them. I do not want to know her, I only want to fuck her. She knew it too. As she hung her septa's crystal about her neck, to nestle in the cleft between her breasts, she teased him with a smile.

That’s not the behaviour of a septa and note the narrative acknowledgement that Lemore has secrets. She’s also called Lady instead of septa at some point in the narrative.

If this is Ashara, then Brandon met his match at Harrenhal. The waste, I can’t. What a sexy couple.

This chapter also contains Targ history as well as some Dorne (mother Rhoyne and whatnot). It goes well with Aegon is the real deal. But what really cinches it is the ending...

"It was him," cried Yandry. "The Old Man of the River."And why not?

Tyrion grinned. Gods and wonders always appear, to attend the birth of kings.

The Old Man of the River is a lesser god, the son of Mother Rhoyne. These gods are all associated with Dorne.

Aegon is real.++.

Tyrion VI ~ ADWD

"Even the bravest of your forebears kept his Kingsguard close about him in times of peril." Lemore had changed out of her septa's robes into garb more befitting the wife or daughter of a prosperous merchant. Tyrion watched her closely. He had sniffed out the truth beneath the dyed blue hair of Griff and Young Griff easily enough, and Yandry and Ysilla seemed to be no more than they claimed to be, whilst Duck was somewhat less. Lemore, though … Who is she, really? Why is she here? Not for gold, I'd judge. What is this prince to her? Was she ever a true septa?

Who is she, really... indeed... Lemore’s identity clearly is important.

She turned back to Prince Aegon. "You are not the only one who must needs hide."

Why does Lemore need to hide? :)

[whimsicallyreading]

Eight Second Ride

Part Three-

(Part Two)

“So you are telling me-“ Aedion scowls from the other side of her bed, “you ditched me for a sweaty bull rider and didn’t even last an hour into the date?”

Aelin shoves a spoonful of cookies and cream ice cream into her mouth and sniffles. “That’s all you got from my story?”

He slings an arm over Aelin’s shoulders and she lays her head on his chest gratefully. She’d caught an Uber back to her apartment where Aedion was already camped out waiting for her.

One look at her mascara smeared face, and he’d made a pillow fort on her bed. Complete with ice cream and “Little Women” playing on his phone.

“No, I got the whole chauvinistic asshole, bit.” Aedion stabs his spoon into the container and breaks up a particularly large piece of Oreo. “I just decided to focus on the part that doesn’t make me want to leave you hear and go and kill him right now.”

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be classy.” Aelin watched Jo play with her sisters in their attic on Aedion’s tiny screen. “Take city girls into the country to ride a horse and show them a bigger purpose in life, kind of shit.”

“Hallmark is such a liar.” Aedion huffs and squeezes her shoulder a little tighter. “I’m sorry, Lin. I know going out tonight was a big step for you. It’s a shame he acted the way he did.”

It was rare Aelin acted on a whim these days. Not like she used to do when she was in high school. She felt a pull to go with Rowan, but her gut had led her into a situation that could have gone south very quickly.

It’s a hard thing when you can’t trust yourself.

“No. I shouldn’t have gone. Especially not alone.” Aelin’s feels her thoughts drifting. Creeping towards that iron box of memories she keeps locked tight. “It’s my mistake.”

“No.”

The fervor in Aedion’s voice draws her attention up to his face, and Aelin is jarred by the intensity of his expression. “Aedion-“

“It’s not your fault.” His voice is gravely, and his blue eyes flicker like the heart of a flame. “I don’t give a shit what that bastard thought you accepting his invitation meant. You don’t owe him sex because he buys you a drink.”

“Aedion-“ Aelin tries to interrupt again. A new wave of tears burns her eyes, but Aedion is on a roll and he isn’t going to quite down until he gets out what’s on his mind.

“You don’t deserve to be treated like an object that can be bought.” Aelin can’t look him in the eyes any longer, but a calloused hand guides her face to the crook of his neck.

“His friends are shitty. He should have made them shut up. Ogling you, and making you feel unsafe and uncomfortable aren’t funny jokes.” Aedion goes on as Aelin sniffles into his shirt.

“You deserve respect. It doesn’t matter what you are wearing, what he buys you, or what his expectations are. His behavior isn’t your fault.” Aedion whispers against the top of her head.

Aelin wraps the arm that isn’t squished under her, around his waist. “I love you, Brother Wolf.”

“I love you too, Fireheart.” Aedion kisses her forehead and tugs her closer, the old terms of endearment are exchanged between them with ease.

“I know you are still dealing with everything that happened a couple years ago. I’m happy to remind you how worth it you are whenever you need.”

Aedion was an island of safety in the turbulent ocean of her life. Even when Aelin was small, she’d often go to him before her own parents with her problems. He was steady, and calm. The exact opposite of her own personality.

After the incident, he hadn’t rested until she was safely at his side again. Aedion stood by her faithfully as she picked up the broken pieces of her life and held her hand as she tried to make something new from them.

“How come you already had this movie downloaded onto your phone?” Aelin teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “Did you suddenly develop a sense of taste?”

Aedion purses his lips. “Lysandra said this movie is, and I quote, the most accurate depiction of the female experience.” He shakes his head. “I’ve tried to watch it three times, and I still can’t figure out what it’s even about.”

“You are a simple minded creature, cousin.” Aelin grabs her spoon and scoops a melty bite of ice cream into her mouth. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Anytime, Lin.” He leans his cheek on her head as the scene on his phone shifts from the cooler grey tones of the present, back to the warm colors that represented better days. “Anytime.”

~~~

The day started off better than she expected.

Aedion was gone when she woke up- he had to rise at an ungodly hour to make it to the fire station on time.

Yet, he set her alarm clock for her so Aelin woke up in time to get ready for work. He’d also set a glass of water and an Advil tablet on her bedside table to curb the headache she was sure to have from crying.

Aelin made it out the door with enough time to stop and get coffee on the way. She even splurged and got a chocolate hazelnut Frappuccino with enough sugar to smooth her wounded feelings.

It was going so well, Aelin should have known it was the universe winding up to screw her.

It was only a couple hours before she closed shop when Lorcan Salvaterre stepped through her front door.

“Holy shit, it’s you.” Were the first words from his mouth. His dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Rowan is going to flip when I tell him I actually found you.”

“What are you doing here?” Aelin’s slammed a stack of books on the counter.

Lorcan looked pensive. “Rowan said you mentioned owning a book store-“ he drags a hand through his dark hair. “I felt like I ruined his chance with you, so I thought I maybe if I apologized-“

“Let me stop you there,” Aelin didn’t bother looking at him as she labeled books and organized them into stacks. “You didn’t ruin anything, you didn’t help, but he screwed up all by himself.”’

“He realizes that,” Lorcan quickly defends, his voice gruff with irritation. “If I can give him your number I’m sure he will grovel for himself.”

Aelin rolls her eyes and slides another stack to the end of the counter. “You don’t get it.”

“Get what?” She can tell he’s losing his patience with her. Lorcan’s remorse only went so far, apparently.

Aedion’s words from earlier rang in her ears as she repeated them back to the man. “He was overbearing the entire time. Had double standard opinions about my life, and disrespected my boundaries.”

Aelin watched as Lorcan shifted on his feet, itching to say something but obviously refraining. Measuring his words carefully he looked her dead in the eye. “Look. He was just trying to impress you. Rowan doesn’t go out often. Don’t you think you are blowing this a little out of proportion?”

Red. Aelin saw red. Tasted it. Like iron in her mouth. Or maybe that was just the blood from biting her tongue so hard. “I’m working right now. You don’t strike me as extremely literate, but I have to ask for you to either buy something or leave.”

Lorcan glowered at her. “Fine.” He turns to walk out, but Aelin hears him call her a bitch under his breath.

Just then, Elide walks inside the shop doors. A backpack slung over her shoulder, finished with her classes at Rifthold U and prepared to work the evening shift with her.

Aelin is relieved for the interruption and about to take full advantage of it, when the small, brown-haired girl catches sight of Lorcan and beams like a rutting lighthouse.

“Lorcan! I didn’t know you were coming into my work, what a surprise.”

Elide. One of her best friends, runs up to the six-two tower of misogynistic cow boys and flings her arms around him. Hugs him.

Ellie she recalls the name being thrown out last night. She hadn’t put two and two together. Ellie was a common name. Of all the people in this city it had to be Elide, Aelin mentally bemoans.

She wonders if Elide knew how her cowboy behaved when she wasn’t around.

It doesn’t matter. Lorcan is all too aware of Aelin’s eyes boring into his skin, and knows he needs to make a quick get away.

“Ellie,” Lorcan pulls away from her. “I just had to see this book shop you are always talking about.”

He kisses her head, and looks at her with feigned remorsefulness. “I must have gotten your shifts mixed up in my head, though. I’m afraid I have to go. We booked a training time for six and I need to brush down Nettie before we start.”

“Oh,” Elide says, a look of genuine disappointment on her face. “That’s fine. Are we still on for a movie tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he promises. He pecks her one more time on the lips and tips his chin towards Aelin. Anger still bubbling in his eyes. “Good day, ma’am.”

Aelin releases a breath when the doors close behind him.

“I’m so sad I missed him.” Elide frowns, tossing her back pack behind the counter. “At least you got to meet him. What did you think? He’s absolutely dreamy, right?”

Aelin chokes back a gag. “Yeah. He was really charming.”

“And get this,” Elide smiles. “He’s a cowboy. Like an actual, real life cowboy. He rides pulls and does team roping. It’s sexy.”

Aelin can’t hide the grimace this time. “You are like my baby sister. I never want to hear the words sexy from your mouth again.”

At least, never in the context of Lorcan. They’d had plenty of boy talk before.

“He even carries a rope.” Elide wags an eyebrow. “Better to tie me up when we-“

Aelin holds a book over her face. “I’m not listening to this! I will file a report with HR.”

Elide laughs. “You are the boss, Lin. You know we don’t have an HR.”

“I need to get one now,” Aelin grumbles. “I don’t need an image of yours and Lorcan’s naked asses in my head.”

She wanted Lorcan out of her head entirely. Along with Rowan and the rest of their cadre.

“Fine,” Elide sighs wistfully. “One day you will be in love and I won’t hold it against you when you want to talk about whatever babe you wind up with.”

Her eyes get a mischievous glint. “Actually- Lorcan has some really cute friends. I could set you up with?”

Aelin’s brain banks. “No. No thank you. I like being alone. I’m more than enough company for myself.”

“Come on, a double date would be fun!” Elide whines and tugs on her arm. “You never go out any more. We could have a great night out.”

An image of the twins cutting lines on the bar flash across her mind and make her shudder.

“I said no, Elide.” Aelin says a bit more harshly then she intends, but Elide gets the point and backs off.

“Sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Instead of anger she looks at Aelin worriedly.

She kind of hates that more.

“Thanks.” She shakes her head and tries to clear the residual stress from her head. “I have to set up a new shelf display. Want to help?”

Elide lights back up at the prospect. She loved designing and organizing. They have a great time setting displays up together and Aelin knew it would take her mind away from the tension she’d created.

She just really hoped that Elide dating Lorcan wouldn’t drag any drama into her own life. Aelin didn’t care what half asses excuses Lorcan made, she wasn’t interested in seeing Rowan again.

Hello! I’m so glad I got this posted today. 😂 I’m hoping to get the next chapter of DRNS out tomorrow. After that, my birthday is next Tuesday and I reaaallly want to do a mass update of all my fics then as a hooray to 21. (Yes. That is what I’m doing for my 21st 🤣) Hope you enjoyed it!

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[oh-take-this-longing]

Prompt 1: Foster

Koriah hadn’t ever seemed a part of the family. Not really. She seemed more mythical creature than Elezen noble to Adelaide. Even the circumstances of her birth, which Adelaide vaguely recalled her parents gossiping about when she was 3 years old, was outside the norm for the family and more like a supernatural gift,  like a fairy child being bestowed upon the family rather  than  the product of nature or love. Her parents would speak all the time about how imminent it was that her aunt and uncle would soon be the first Azmeriens to sever their ‘eternal bond’ and that they hadn’t so much as opened a door for one another or said a word in kindness to each other in the 2 years since they’d been wed.

Then one day her aunt and uncle showed up at her parents’ door holding hands. Holding -ungloved hands-. Holding ungloved hands with their skin touching for everyone to see. And they were smiling. And they were laughing. And they said such scandalous and, frankly, uncomfortable things as “I love you” right in front of everyone! That wasn’t a phrase Adelaide heard all that often outside of children’s tales. It wasn’t something her family ever said. Not in public, not in private, not even in jest, not ever. 

And then they did it. They kissed. Still in full view of the whole family! And this was not the usual polite kiss on the cheek or kiss on the back of (gloved!) hands for which Adelaide was so familiar. They kissed each other on the lips. They tilted their heads, smiling, and then put their lips together and 3 year old Adelaide saw it and -frankly- it was weird and she didn’t understand it at all. What was the point of that? She thought maybe it looked kind of gross. When she looked around at the rest of her immediate family with their jaws dropped and their eyes quickly darting away to look at something, anything!, else, her 3 year old thoughts were confirmed. That was definitely weird and gross. If it wasn’t her family wouldn’t react that way. Right?

And it was after that kiss that the announcement had been made. Her aunt was pregnant! And she and Adelaide’s uncle were -happy- about it. Oh, there was plenty of gossip about how the kid must have belonged to another man because she’d been having an affair and the whole lovey-dovey thing was just a public display to squash exactly the rumors that the lovey-dovey display had actually instigated instead. There were teams of couples who’d come over for weekly card, chess, or mahjong nights who would spend the evenings drinking expensive brandy with her parents and betting on who the actual father was. But to everyone’s great astonishment, when Koriah was born she already had a crop of bright red hair the exact same color as her father’s. As she grew up she shared the same striking green eyes as her father as well. Of course, by that point all the gossip had moved on to other couples and their possible infidelities and short-comings and the shock of Koriah’s arrival and the affection between her parents had completely been disregarded.

But not by Adelaide who carried that with her as one of her first memories and would continue to reflect on it as she grew older.

And as her cousin Koriah did not.

The sudden announcement of Koriah’s death when Adelaide was 25 and Koriah was 22 came as much as a surprise as the announcement of her arrival had.

Maybe it shouldn’t have. Koriah Azmerien had always been warm and sunny in personality (or what her detractors would call: ‘frivolous in demeanor’). She didn’t take anything too seriously. She wore what she wanted to. She went wherever she felt. And she genuinely did not care at all about what people said to or about her. When Adelaide would be stuck with insecurity regarding what she should say to someone (or -not- say to someone) at public events, Koriah never understood. She’d say, “If you introduce yourself and  they are unimpressed, they are the problem not you. So why worry about it?”

Well, Adelaide worried about it because her mother worried about it. And her sister worried about it. And two of her brothers worried about it. And she’d heard plenty of gossip that told her that she should worry about it. Why didn’t Koriah worry about it!? She’d one day be heading her family’s estate as well, shouldn’t she want to make the right impressions to the right people? Wasn’t she as stuck in this stifling, rules heavy society as Adelaide was?

That answer cleared itself up fairly quickly. At 19 Koriah said she was going off to see the world outside of Ishgard to learn what she could about other places. She longed to see other venues, other people, to taste other foods.

What she really wanted to do was see the Limsan ocean. She’d stared longingly at painted pictures of the ocean since she’d been so small she teetered and fell down more than she actually walked. The bubbly child would get quiet and listen with rapt attention to any story that featured dashing rogues and pirates by the seaside or that told tale of giant sea monsters or seductive sirens. Koriah’s parents eventually tired of buying their daughter stories about the ocean, perhaps wanting her to focus more on Coerthan tales of might and adventure instead, but the ocean had Koriah’s heart. So when her aunt and uncle stopped providing the books… Adelaide found a way to sneak books to her young cousin about high sea adventures instead.

And as Koriah grew older, her taste for the seafaring stories grew as well. Moving past the usual children’s tales, her book collection became… rather more ‘adult’ in nature-- much to Adelaide’s sheltered embarrassment who until her cousin had showed her the collection of erotic and romantic Limsan pirate and rogue stories had not even thought such a thing had existed. By that age, late teens, Adelaide had, of course, known that kissing was a thing. That touching was a thing. That the common folk would sometimes disappear into dark alleys and do… things. But she’d been raised by a very strict mother who had made it clear that such things were ‘crass’ and ‘unladylike’ and that as the future head of the Azmerien household, the future of the Azmerien name, she had best not ever think of such things.

Being told not to think of such things and then being shown books that wrote -exactly- of such things of course meant that Adelaide would rebel. She thought about ‘such things’ frequently. But she’d never -buy- such a book. She’d just borrow them. Where did Koriah even find those? Wasn’t she embarrassed to be seen with them?

No. The answer was no. She said someone had taken the time to write those things so someone might as well take the time to read them. She didn’t make it a point to read them in public and she hid them in her room so they weren’t immediately on display-- but she did not hide that she purchased them herself. “And if someone were to take time to read them, that someone ought to purchase them herself rather than sending out a servant to do it for her.”

So when Koriah said she was ‘off to see the world’, Adelaide knew that she was ‘off to see the ocean.’ And when she imagined Koriah out in Limsa Lominsa she imagined her capturing hearts and scandalous kisses the same way the heroines in her books did. She only wondered if it’d be a pirate or a rogue that she’d end up running away with in the end.

It was a rogue, apparently. Letters from Koriah came back regularly… until they didn’t. Koriah’s parents and younger brother received the boring letters that spoke of Limsan gossip and fashion. Adelaide received the letters that spoke of the things her cousin actually cared about. 

And the things she loved. 

And the boy she loved.

And that boy’s goofy little brother.

The boy was named Lysander Winsome and he was a key figure in some sort of thieving gang based in Limsa, but it wasn’t the life he wanted anymore. He wanted out. He wanted to save enough to buy a ship-- his dream was an airship because his heart belonged to the sky as much as Koriah’s belonged to the ocean-- and he wanted to get away with only what mattered most to him: his brother and Koriah. She thought it’d be easier to buy a ship they could sail on the ocean. That’d be a dream easier and quicker to reach and while they worked on the ship they could have adventures and save enough for the airship. But what if-- what if one day they had a ship that functioned as both? Wouldn’t that be amazing? Would Adelaide want to come to visit on a vessel that could both sail and fly?

Adelaide wrote that of course she would. But honestly, it was all a little hard to believe. Koriah’s letters sounded as much fiction as any of the books she’d left hidden in her bedroom. Maybe these letters were just fantasy. Maybe they were meant as fun reads when her reality was really just the boring letters about Limsan gossip, sales prices, and fashion that she sent to her immediate family. And she continued to think this until the letters became more sporadic and then stopped all together.

And until she met the goofy little brother.

Adelaide had assumed that ‘Winsome’ was a made up last name. No one was named that. That was an adjective, not a name. But when the 12 (or was it 13?) year old boy with chestnut colored hair, the oversized @dumb-hat swallowing up most of his face so that she could hardly see his amber eyes, looked up at her and then grinned so wide that what she saw of his eyes lit up, and told her that was his real last name… Adelaide knew that it was both an accurate adjective and a real last name.

Koriah’s last correspondence to her family was a letter that Evander clutched in his hands, written in her hand, beseeching them to care for him if he arrived without her and making clear that she gave him all rights to her property-- including her inheritance-- and that her final wish was that he be treated as the family that he was. She had married the boy’s brother in secret and in the absence of her and Lysander-- Evander Winsome was all that was left of her and should be treated with the same love and courtesy that she had been treated when she was there.

She never said ‘alive’ or ‘dead’ in the letter. But everyone knew what it meant.

What Evander did not know and would not ever know, was that a week before he arrived to Ishgard without her cousin, Koriah had written Adelaide a letter too. That letter contained two notarized copies of a will that made legally official and binding that Evander was her heir and was to receive all her property and inheritance. It was sent to Adelaide to ensure that the one person in the family that Koriah trusted as much as herself would have it and could speak up for the young boy in the unfortunate possibility that Koriah’s family would pretend they had never received a letter of their own and tried to wash their hands of Evander. 

The letter also read:

“Adelaide,

The storms in Limsa have made the ocean more alive than ever. It thrashes and dances with such exuberance that it makes me want to dance as well. The white sea foam reminds me of the lace hems on the dresses you and I loved so much as children: the ones that would twirl when we’d spin. I wish you could see it.

Lysander and I plan to make our escape soon. I never told you before because I didn’t want to worry you, but the gang did not take it well when Lysander made it clear that he wanted to strike out on his own. In fact, while we don’t speak of it because we don’t want Evander to overhear it, we’re fairly certain they plan to retaliate. As of now we plan to board a trading vessel that will take us out of Limsa Lominsa-- maybe even out of La Noscea entirely. We’ll head somewhere new and see the ocean there. Lysander wants to try his hand at opening a jewelry shop. He thinks he’d like to be a goldsmith. But his dreams and ambitions change as much as the sea does- so when we get to the new place he might decide to do something else entirely! I look forward to it. We both do. 

But on the off-chance that we never see that dream come true and that the Limsan ocean is the last one we see, I will pay for Evander’s trip aboard another vessel with a few people I trust and see that  he gets to Ishgard. Please welcome him. I don’t know how long he’ll choose to stay-- but I hope he gets a chance to foster new relationships, experiences and a new family while there. 

And on the off-chance I never see you again: I love you. I know that’s not a thing the family says. But sometimes it has to be said.

The books belong to Evander now. But you let him know I said that you can keep borrowing them.

Koriah.”

Thank you to @dumb-hat​ for letting me use his character and his backstory NPCs here! This timeline is certainly not 100% correct, but rather than stressing myself out trying to work out the exact ages and whens and whats-- I’m reminding myself that this is just about getting some writing out there and that I can fix the details later!

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - x (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The truth finally comes out.

Warnings: brief mention of sex, mentions of death, really shitty writing tbh, dialogue driven. (NOTE: when concerning the flashbacks, he’s actually explaining to the reader what happened)

Word Count: 2.5k

Note: Feel free to send me any questions because I know this is a really crappy chapter. (of course, I’m not going to reveal the rest of the plot)

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

You could still taste the salt from the sea on your lips. The memories of what happened aboard that ship still fresh like a wound that you’d carry forever. You stared at your hands that were conjoined with your husband’s. The wedding bands glistened in the dimmed room.

“Will you believe me if I told you everything?” Steven asked. His thumb drew soothing circles on the back of your hand. His grip tight as if he were afraid you’d disappear again.

“Everyone’s lied to me.” You whispered. You looked towards Wanda’s body, still covered with the bloodstained tarp. “What would make you any different?”

“This is the truth,” he promised. “The complete truth.”

When Steven was young, his mother doted on him because he was a sickly child. He grew up to have her compassion, optimism, and idealism. He was sixteen when his father unexpectedly died, and he was hailed King of Brooken. He wanted to carry his mother’s ideals into a new age for Brooken, but he underestimated what it meant to have a crown on his head.

The sacrifices he’d have to make, the betrayals he’d have to face, the blood he’d have to spill. He’s told more lies that he could count – all in the name of protecting his reputation and his power. A cruel king is respected after all. The lies were like storm clouds that poured hard. He drowned in them and got lost in the darkness those clouds brought. The lies burdened him more than anyone would ever know.

You squeezed hand, breaking him away from his thoughts. “Steve?” Your tone was soft, coaxing him back into reality. He welcomed the calm you brought. It eased the storm inside of him. You were ready for the truth – perhaps, you’ve always been ready. “Unburden yourself, my love.”

“I don’t know where to start.” He said, honestly. It was true. There was so much to the story. He wasn’t quite sure where it began.

“Start with Margaret, perhaps?” You suggested.

“I was young,” he began. “Twenty-one years old. Five years on the throne. They told me I needed a wife.”

“They?”

“Pierce and the old council.” He answered. “Brock’s father had just died, so he took the vacant seat. At first, I thought having my cousin on the council would alleviate the tension. The lords on the council were nearly twice my age, if not more. They saw things differently than I did. They wanted different things. Sometimes I felt as if I were their puppet. I was young when I took the throne. Sixteen. I didn’t know what to expect, so I leaned on their counsel. I depended on them,” he scoffed, remembering his earlier years on the throne. “They told me I needed to continue the line succession. Thanos was beginning to make a name for himself by this time. He had lovers and spawned two daughters. His line was growing, and the Rogers’s wasn’t. So, I asked them to find me a match. Pierce brought in Lady Margaret of House Carter. I was smitten when I first laid eyes on her.”

Steven sat tall upon his throne. The room was empty. Brooken had a tradition that detailed that those in royal betrothals must meet for the first time in private. He was giddy with excitement. Lady Margaret’s portraits were presented to him a month ago. She was easily one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen. Lord Pierce made the arrangements and they were to marry within a week. “House Carter is a respected house in the Old World,” Pierce advertised.

The doors opened wide and a young woman walked through. Her hair was dark as night. Her lips painted a bright red. She smiled at him and bowed. “Your grace,” she greeted. “I am humbled to make your acquaintance and, of course, honored to be your betrothed.”

“I didn’t know her, truly. I didn’t realize how manipulative she was from the beginning. She charmed and enchanted me to do her bidding. We were married for nearly a decade. No children. She didn’t want children. I didn’t want to lose her, so I agreed.

“She had many faces. A face she’d show the people that made them love her. A face she showed me that hypnotized me. And the face she’d show my allies, which were her foes. She fought with James incessantly – even tried to make me banish him. I refused. He was my oldest friend. I promised the moment I took the throne, my riches, my blessings were his to share. She was trying to isolate me. She banished my allies from court. James warned me she was a devil. I refused to listen. I thought her a gift from the gods themselves. Until I caught her poisoning my mother.”

“What?” You gasped.

Steven nodded. The haunting memory pained him still.

He woke up alone after a long night of making love to his queen. It was early in the morning; the sun had barely risen. Orange streaks painted the sky. He searched for Margaret, wanting to jest her for allowing him to wake up alone. He found her whispering to his sick, elderly mother who was bedridden due to a broke hip.

“You won’t get away with it. My son will find out,” his mother croaked.

“Not from you,” Margaret gave her a wicked smile as she slathered arsenic-riddled paint on his mother’s toast. The thick substance looked like jam, but Steve knew better. She force-fed the queen mother the poisoned bread.

“What are you doing!” Steve boomed into the room, pushing his wife aside as his mother choked. “Guards! Get a physician!”

“She died later that evening.” Steven shook his head. It was your turn to console him. You released one of your hands from his grip and rubbed his arm. He took a shaky breath. “I stabbed Margaret in the heart in front of Rumlow, Pierce, James, and Sam’s father. I didn’t know, yet, that her betrayals were much deeper than the murdering my mother.”

“Enter Sharon?” You asked.

“I was widowed for a year. Pierce brought her in. The younger cousin of Margaret.” He continued. “Married two days after her arrival in Brooken.” He chuckled humorlessly at his naivete. “I should’ve never marry a stranger.”

“We married in two weeks.” You noted. “We were practically strangers, too.”

Steven shook his head in disagreement. He didn’t feel that way. In the two weeks he grew to know you, he learned the innerworkings of your mind, your soul. He knew he was in love with you, truly, even before he wrapped the cloak around your shoulders during the wedding ceremony.

“We weren’t strangers.” He said. “Far from it. Sharon was distant. Defiant. We never consummated our marriage, not that anyone would know. She refused to sleep in my chambers, refused to be held, or anything, really. It felt as if I had married a ghost that everyone could see. I couldn’t touch her, but she still haunted these halls.”

“You beheaded her.” You said. Steven bit his lip as he nodded. “Pierce said you beheaded her out of spite.”

Steven cocked his head to the side, brows raising, as if he entertained the idea. “Well, she was spiteful.”

“The men in the prisons… They preferred her over you and you imprisoned them, correct?”

Steven sighed. He was disappointed that you were so quick to believe rumors and lies about him, but he blamed himself for not being completely honest from the start. “Sharon plotted a coup on behalf of the Mad King.”

“How can you be certain?” You asked.

“She admitted it when she was caught.”

Steven stared down at the blonde. Her eyes wide as he finished reading her encrypted letter. “You’re not subtle. You’re not discreet.” He spat at her, crumpling the paper and throwing it at her feet. “You work for the Mad King. You’re here to topple me. Rip the crown from my head and give it to him. The game’s over, Sharon. You’ve lost. Your followers all caught and imprisoned. I will get a confession and you will die for treason.”

She recomposed herself, rolling back her shoulders with confidence. “You think you can just kill off another queen? What will people think of you, Steven.”

“I am pulling the weeds from my kingdom.” He snapped. “You Carters are all the same. Traitors. Liars.”

“Margaret was good.” Sharon complimented. “She had you wrapped around her finger for a decade. If she hadn’t been caught killing your mother, then she would’ve convinced you to ally yourself with Thanos.” She turned her head to the side and gave him a smirk. “Then, she would’ve killed you along with your mother. Such a shame, she was caught.”

“You admit. You’re a traitor.”

“Of course, I admit it. But mind you, your grace, your enemies are all over Brooken. You cut me down today, someone else will cut you down tomorrow.”

“I beheaded her for treason.”

“You didn’t tell people that your queens were committed treason. You allowed rumors to spread about your cruelty to your wives.” You frowned.

“As I told you before, a cruel king is respected.” Steven muttered. “But I never wanted you to be afraid of me.”

“Isn’t it odd?” You asked. “Both queens chosen by Pierce were traitors.”

Steven nodded. “They pushed me to get married once more, but I told them, this time I’ll choose my bride.”

“Me.”

“It’s three years after the War between the North. Tony and I were close before. I fought alongside your father when York was invaded ages ago.”

“You fought over a disagreement over land.”

“More than land. He wanted James dead. James’s father killed your grandfather. Since James’s father had died long before, your father asked for my friend’s head. I refused. So, a war erupted.”

“You traded blows with my father on the battlefield.” You recalled. You remembered your mother’s cries and pleads with the gods, asking for them to protect your father’s life. “He returned to my mother bloodied. You cut through his armor. But you looked him in the eyes and called the war off.”

“No one won.”

“No one.” You agreed. “Three years later, you ask my father for a wife.”

“I needed a wife I could trust. Although we had our differences, I trust your father with my life. I know Tony’s blood. I know how you would’ve been raised to be loyal. You took after your father and your mother.” Steven explained. “I didn’t trust Pierce to find me a wife that could slit my throat in the night.”

“You trust me?” You asked.

“The moment I stared into your eyes and saw fear… I knew you knew the rumors. I knew you thought of me as cruel – our first encounter made that clear.” He smiled at you softly. His fingers lightly traced the scars of your wrist. He brought your wrist to his lips and pressed a light kiss onto the skin. “But, truthfully, my trust in you waned when I saw you with Brock and Pierce leaving the dungeon. I began to think you were conspiring with them.”

“I – I – I wasn’t.”

“I know that now.” He said. “I realized you were afraid of disappointing me because you didn’t … you weren’t –“

“Pregnant.” Your voice wavered, immediately brought back to the painful memory of losing your baby alone on the boat. “I should’ve told you I was, though. But I was afraid. I thought you were going to kill me. You struck me.”

“I’m terribly sorry.” Steven shook his head. No amount of apologizes could ever make up to the faded scar on your cheek.

“I was afraid for my life and the child’s. They manipulated me because of my fears. They prayed upon it and convinced me to trust them. And I did. In turn, I – I lost my best friend and my baby.”

Steve pulled you to him. Your head rested in the junction between his neck and shoulder as you cried softly into him. He rubbed your arm, comfortingly.

“They tried to turn you against me.” Steven whispered. “They tried to weaken me by trying to kill you on that boat. I thank the gods that you’re safe now.”

“Thank you for telling me the truth.” You muttered.

Steven nodded and kissed the top of your head. His arm around you tightened a bit. “You should sleep. Get some rest. You need it after what you’ve endured.”

You agreed. Steven untangled himself from you before he leaned down to press a kiss to the scar on your cheek and a kiss on your lips. He began to walk away when you felt panic begin to settle. Your hand shot out and grabbed onto his arm, preventing him from taking another step.

“Please stay.” You begged. “I… I don’t want to be alone.”

He gave you a soft smile and nodded. You scooted over the cot to make room for your husband. The positioning was a bit awkward considering his massive build, but you immediately felt safer once his arms wrapped around you once again.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

You woke up alone in Steven’s bedchamber. The sun had already set, the full moon up in the sky. The pain had subsided after nearly a day of rest. The truth settling in inside your mind.

At least now you knew everything.

The doors opened suddenly to reveal your husband. He smiled at you as you sat up on the bed. “You’re awake.”

“You left me alone.”

Steven’s smile faltered. He couldn’t register if there was sadness in your voice or not as he walked over. “I – I hadn’t meant to upset you.”

You shook your head. “I understand. You’re a king. Your duty is to the people, not to me.”

“I am your husband, first.” Steve argued. “My duty will always be to you, my love.” He took your hand in his and helped you off the bed. “Come. There’s something I must show you.”

He led you to the balcony doors, opening it and allowing the air rush into the room. You breathed it in. The mixed scents from the gardens below overtook your senses, washing out the pained sea salt smell that still haunted you.

Steven guided you out onto the terrace and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in front of him. You gasped as you looked up to the sky. Along with the bright moon and the stars were lanterns that floated into the air and painted the dark sky.

“For years, I stumbled alone in the darkness. Feigned love with false queens who sought to destroy me. And here you are. The true gift the gods bestowed upon me. I truly believe you were crafted to be my soulmate, (Y/N).” He murmured in your ear. “I wish I could take away the pain you’ve endured, but I cannot. I can only tell you whatever comes next, we will face it together as husband and wife.” Tears swelled in your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks as you stared up into the bright sky. “I love you, my light, my love.”

You smiled and turned to him, cupping his bearded cheeks in your hands. “I love you, Steve.”