#i am honored to share a name with it
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pookie i made you a memoji 🙂
it’s named after you
AHHH OMG I LOVE IT SO MUCH TWIN WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN LIKE HJKFHDSLFJKZHFJKASHDA
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YOU ASKED FOR PART THREE AND I HAVE DELIVERED.
HERE ARE SOME MORE INCORRECT BRIDGERTON/POLIN QUOTES THAT I REFUSE TO GATEKEEP FROM THE BRIDGERTON/POLIN COMMUNITY OF TUMBLR. I DONT REMEMBER WHO ORIGINALLY POSTED THESE. (I AM SO SORRY):
Lemme know if you want a part four!! (I was not kidding when I said I had a SHIT 👏 TON 👏 of these saved).
#I’m so sorry I don’t remember the names of the original posters of these memes!!!#but they are too good not to share!!!#these people are lengendary tho for taking time out of their lives to do this#incorrect polin quotes#incorrect bridgerton quotes#incorrect quotes bridgerton#bridgerton incorrect quotes#incorrect quotes are like crack to me#am i going to jail now for saying that????#help????#polin#bridgerton#i will go down with this ship#i love them#me when polin#me when polin are married and in love#me when colin and pen get married#colin x penelope#penelope x colin#colin is so in love with penelope it hurts#colin bridgerton#penelope featherington#live laugh love colin bridgerton#live laugh love penelope featherington#penelope and colin#colin and penelope#i love them your honor#i love their dynamic#i love their love#live laugh love bridgerton
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LISTEN i tried my best mkay. I TRIED!!!!!!...kinda. first time trying out this style :3 i might redo it later since i did it during lessons LMFAO
do not steal or i will cry (i dunno if this is worth stealing either bro)
if u're wondering what happens next he probably just gives u a big smooch (I AM KIDDING .!!!!!!!!) okay bye
#olliemollyart#scarletella#mr scarletella#mr. scarletella#Scarletella#Mr. Scarletella#Mr Scarletella#homicipher#this is my pookie right there. say hi pookie!#(unintelligible)#oooookay! good!#why are colors hard.#Homicipher#HC#your honor its okay he's just a silly guy#first time tagging kinda nervous 🫦🫦🫦#<<< that was SOMEWHAT. a joke.#what am i DOING.#POV: local red rat with rabies comes over to see you. You won't believe what happens next!#you will. he just does his thing.#yes emily. he asks your name.#anybody in the class wanna share some better ideas please?#i showed this to my mother. she liked it. so.#i love how the tags are just delving into madness. because its true. im losing it.#and its because of this FILTHY NUTELLA MAN. actually. i have new tags in mind.#Mr Nutella#Mr. Nutella#Homiecipher#homicipher scarletella#Scarletella Homicipher
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further thoughts re: [idea behind mitb] & [winston billions]
that ofc the specific situation of mitb of even being so thrown into a seismic shift in perspective in this moment, brought on by like whoa what if actually being alone / rejected by the person who was always on my side, like winston in canon can't ever be in that position lmao like even with the continual [people turn on him] moments, nobody was ever actually on his side in the first place & people only Turn from [less of negative attention upon him] to [more]
But then pointing to like wait, one thing, the very ending: all you know about me is my name / awesome party, i'm so glad i came [cha cha cha] like assign that to winston's departure from straightforward in-office employee with the fun details of: • we don't even know his name, rare No Last Name Ever Bothered With for any recurring character, much less one who's been around for seasons. just quant things • probably only any party b/c he arranged it for himself (what arrogance, as opposed to being pointedly ignored / denied baseline acknowledgments as deserved) & • nonzero people pointedly refusing to attend b/c they hate him more than anything, as opposed to the people who do attend to express hostility & contempt as per the I'm The Ultra Cool Guy Normal Person(tm) ideal of "if i interact with / observe someone & consider them such a Lesser / Other to me & issue whatever disparaging cues, any third parties would totally recognize my superiority" uhh nnnyeThis guy, umm ohh kayyy lol. scoff sneer etc. Extremely epic yes
also shoutout to billions for both Needing to show us that "uh lol winston can't just Get to Leave" expression of contempt / vicarious power trip But also that's not enough lmfao like he really can't get to leave, casting its yugioh card of "essence of [most dangerous time in an abusive relationship? trying to leave it]" like again, You Don't Get To, then Uh Oh winston in leaving is not only acting without permission but in doing so is denying us our property! time for some assaulting & stalking & killing :) figuratively we swear but who would know what nonexistent mitb happens :)) wheee haha Hell yeah so affirmed & fulfilled in our power & superiority. wretchedly like why is this also what happens with wendy & axe at the end of s5 as axe resents wendy not acting like his property / without his permission & gets vindictive & aggressive & it's like okay well with the stalking & surveilling in the mix i'm sure wendy will now finally get to be Done. wrong! reveling in romance (dragged over glass) as wendy is sooo special that she can still just Understand & Choose Loyalty even as unideal as axe was, truly, she's powerful enough to handle axe :) unlike other bitches who'd get all hysterical & give up. selfish
also speaking of the "you have to pay attention & listen to how this guy feels for 5 minutes" like with pointed [my personal perspective & considering Just Like Real Life] i don't like, especially with canon, really have that for winston in terms of like that even if people Had to listen, which would be the only way they did b/c winston Does express how he feels at all & it gets pointedly ignored / suppressed / punished, like they wouldn't change their perspective lol. when i consider "well winston could hope they would, think they might, want & try for this" like i don't consider that it would work lol, definitely not based on canon dynamics, where Just Like The Perspective Of The Show Itself like winston can seize some opportunity & express himself "perfectly" but it wouldn't work b/c everyone's already decided to think of him as inferior & not a person & will continue choosing to do so / choosing to play into the idea of their superiority rather than letting it be threatened, much less embracing that & questioning themselves / that concept. Oops Same Essence once again when like all that's questioned about Power is that only Meritous, Truly benevolent godlike individuals ought to have it :) no problems detected when wendy is really exactly the same as prince b/c of course she'd have to be when it's just "nothing wrong with seeing people as inferior, in fact it's inevitable & necessary & good & we love it, just so long as Really superior people are correctly arranged in the hierarchy over Really inferior 'people' who i'm not really hurting or wronging or using when they bring it upon themselves & are wrong in their lesserness"
so like shoutout again to "billions is like, the song 'be more chill' in be more chill, seeing the squip as the protagonist like yes wheee yay tell jeremy everyone's right to treat him as they do & he brings it upon himself & should be dead & twist his arm however you want to get this" only i think in bmc you can interpret that the squip really does want to "redeem" jeremy by forcing him to become a different person & all & just conform to the norm & play & win the game....billions might Supposedly want that, framing wendy using & toying with other people's lives & feelings as she sees fit as Necessary, Correct, & Magnanimous, but really like oh no wendy doesn't even really "fix" people b/c welp there's still the hierarchy of ranking on everyone's Inherent unequal personhood & we can't all be the most special best person in the world like wendy but she can Redeem us a little bit if we're not the lost causes too inferior to recognize & defer to Her superiority. plus she's busy with the enrichingly complicated & important cases of: enabling someone like axe :) like billions is just into the power trip really of like "wow yeah you're correct in judging that person as inferior & bringing it upon themself" & "really" fixing someone by killing them & replacing them with an allistic person e.g. isn't actually of that much interest b/c then the power trip would, theoretically, be done with. no thanks
meanwhile perhaps some restraint for this last point brought on by Oops already verbalizing a lot but the one thing i did only just think of was like, obviously winston comparable to jeremy & the material surrounding jeremy But i was like oh hey i kind of think of the winston & tuk dynamic as glimpsed in canon & extrapolated upon thusly as respectively michael & jeremy esque & sure never framed it that way to myself lol. this duo of like the ultimate losers around but who can kind of obviously also bond / deliberately unionize over this; winston as the "well they'll treat me like this either way so i may as well do my own thing fully at least" more confident one while tuk is similar enough & it's like oh i can be not just myself but More myself with this person than maybe i even am Alone alone & we like each other & have fun & i'm encouraged &c & so on, being a bit more "ah jeez :( i do kind of try to see if i can manage to play by the rules better & maybe be killed less," & even sure have thought about the conflicts that could arise as like "yeah it's good if winston being around me can kind of insulate me & involve encouragement But Then Also downsides like, can it feel overbearing if just feeling eclipsed by winston's personality, if feeling like yeah following winston's lead helps me but what if that defines me too much / what about getting by outside that, can encouragement from that Confident Vivacious personality feel pushy?" all very much like that conflict jeremy & michael have of jeremy wanting to change things up & figure out his relationship with himself & what he can do through that a little bit more, hardly able to express that to himself much less michael, michael who doesn't know quite what's going on & but of course is also affected by how people treat him, as we did know but yknow impossible to have real serious feelings & act vivacious & cheerful, & feels supported by his relationship / dynamic w/jeremy too....wouldn't be the same b/c there's no high school scifi plot & also like, no [um frivolous teen problems are for teens only. adults don't do the bullying & popularity & insecurity &c] as has been said lol like it doesn't just Stop, but that like they Are older so probably could have an at all easier & more successful time talking through things & understanding their own feelings, but always fun to imagine some drama & conflict sure lol like even just a period of some Confusion / Mixed Feelings like ah new good friends with tuk but maybe tuk withdraws / avoids winston a bit then to try to take a breath & get perspective from a step back, maybe it can seem to winston like we're having a good time what a promising new relationship but then sudden/confusing irritation with me / some apparent rejection, an easy issue is just like as seems to be canon lol like well nobody's known winston for eons here, just met, winston's Already got the independently big personality / doing his own things mode, could be hard to warm up to that / even Understand it, especially in [hierarchy play the game kill each other it's them or you] bullying world anyway. however also tuk has ben who is also sort of relatively on the Less outwardly bold seeming side who is also there to buffer or insulate or intervene, But that can also just be [same issue parallel to jeremy/michael] lmao like does it mitigate it or exacerbate it or bit of both / varyingly, depending. do we all kiss at the same time
#winston billions#bmc#oh honorable mention: my [winston ''solve my riddles'' sphinx billions. but also different] idea#''solve my riddles'' = understand what he is getting at when he expresses himself#even extended to understanding some Truth which has to be known here even if winston doesn't think that already himself#hence an involuntary aspect like consider something of a figurative gate you can't get through without giving the correct answer#oops something in reality has manifested some form of a physical barrier. just can't [xyz] in whatever way#& then leave it at something like that w/all possible what ifs & complications#like wouldn't necessarily Require people change their perspective on him even then. just gives him Some more leverage than he has#could just resent & dismiss him still; still think you're ''humoring'' him at most / like oh even if he Thinks he feels that way. it's not#like it's actually real b/c his personness / thoughts / feels / &c aren't Real like mine/ours#unless there's some added layer like ''no you do have to both understand & internalize'' lmaooo#sphinx whose pronouns you have to use as someone who respects them. oh nope they can tell you think you're just humoring them for as long#as it takes to get past them as you want to do....meanwhile if say winston powers (sounds like a name. imagine. jimmy powers)#keep his feelings from being trampled via certain actions ppl want to take But. to have those feelings Known just makes them trampled in#another way b/c ppl aren't gonna choose to start actually respecting them / Not considering themselves Superiors#like i don't even wanna share them or say Yes That's How I Feel or even implicitly verify info by [oh okay Now we can do xyz] & yet?#am i forced to; are people gonna twist my arm; send someone to Be Sympathetic but really just to get the info for practical purposes#all scenarios soooo different from real life shit ppl can deal with all the time lmaooo....
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It starts with a distasteful joke from Gojo. "I bet Nanami's pretty vanilla in bed, am I right?" He nudges you playfully as he sips on his lychee mocktail in the restaurant. Your boyfriend excused himself to use the bathroom and Ieiri went out for a smoke, leaving you alone with Gojo, who you met for the first time just a little over an hour ago.
You're shocked that he'd even ask such a personal question, especially since your relationship with Nanami is still four-months fresh. Unsure how to respond, you simply laugh, not answering. When he continues to stare at you through his blindfold, your smile falters. "You're being serious?"
He smirks, clearly egging you on. "I just can't imagine our little strait-laced salary man being very fun in the sack. No offense."
You're torn between changing the subject all together into something less inappropriate and defending your lover's honor. And unfortunately for you, as the anger inside you begins to bubble at Gojo's tactless words, you choose the latter. "If you must know, he's very, very fun in the sack." You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him.
He shrugs, the shit-eating grin still on his face. "I just can't see it. But as long as you're satisfied, that's all that matters."
"I am very satisfied, thank you very much!" you emphasize, cheeks hot now, annoyed. Before you explode on him, Nanami and Ieiri return, so you try to contain your rage as much as possible throughout the rest of dinner.
You intend to keep his outrageous comments to yourself, not wanting to start any unnecessary drama, especially with Nanami who is above this type of ridiculousness. But remembering Gojo's smug expression makes you irate all over again. That night, while you're cuddling with Nanami, you share the story. "So, Gojo said something funny to me while you were in the bathroom." As you recount the short conversation from earlier, you keep it light-hearted, laughing about it as if it doesn't grind your gears (which it does). In all honestly, your sex life with Nanami is amazing, and while it's nobody's business but your own, you can't help being bothered that certain people think otherwise.
When you're done, Nanami doesn't respond right away, processing it all before he speaks. "Interesting." His voice is steady, though you can sense a hint of annoyance in his tone. "He's an idiot," he adds, holding you closer, grazing his lips on your forehead.
You giggle, snuggling into his chest. "I know."
"But...you are satisfied, right?"
The waver of uncertainty in his voice breaks your heart and you almost regret telling him. "Of course I am! You know I am!" you answer confidently, peering up at him.
He kisses your forehead. "You promise?"
Grabbing both his cheeks, you smooch him on the lips. "I promise."
Gentle kisses soon turn into sloppy ones as Nanami rolls on top of you, surrounding you in his strong and muscular body. It happens quickly; the blanket is shrugged off, clothes are stripped and scattered on the floor, your legs are spread wide for him as he eats you out voraciously, proving how much fun he can be in bed. He makes you orgasm twice like this, getting it nice and wet for his hard cock, throbbing in his fist as he strokes it. “Ride me,” he demands, laying on his back, licking his lips while you mount him.
You oblige, sinking down on his cock slowly, adjusting to his size. “Fuck, Kento,” you whine, wiggling on his lap until he bottoms out.
“Feels good, huh sweetheart?” He traces your mouth with his thumb, teasing it.
“Yes. So fucking good.” You suck on his fingers, rocking back and forth on his lap.
He fucks you like this, his feet planted on the bed, bucking his hips up into you at a steady pace. Suddenly, his phone rings, interrupting for a moment. He glances at it, his expression tensing, showing you the name displayed on the screen: Gojo Satoru.
"Answer it," you say, grinding on him with a wicked smile on your face. "Prove him wrong."
For a split-second, he looks at you like you're crazy. But something in him snaps, probably the same thing that made you so angry earlier. Sometimes, you just want to prove yourself right.
He picks up the phone, putting it on speaker. Gojo's voice rings out. "Nanami, I feel terrible. I said some inappropriate things to your girl - "
"Fuck me, Kento," you whine, bouncing on his lap as he thrusts up into you faster, entire body hot and electric with pleasure.
Nanami has the phone in one hand and the other that was just in your mouth playing with your clit now. Through labored breaths, he says, "Sorry Gojo, I'm a bit busy being an absolute bore in bed. Isn't that right, kitten?"
He holds the phone closer to you while you moan your boyfriend's name, your third climax of the night approaching quickly. "Kento, Kento, fuck me Kento!”
Satisfied, Nanami sets the phone down on the bed, gripping your hips to pound up into you, the squelching of his cock pummeling into your wet cunt so erotic and lewd. “Gonna fill you up, sweetheart. Gonna breed this slutty little pussy.” Over the edge now, he shoots his load inside you, letting out his own husky moans. He hastily lifts you off him to eat you out one last time, his cum leaking down from your cunt onto his chin as he sucks on your swollen clit until you come on his face, moaning obscenities incessantly. Completely spent now, you pull off him to cuddle, kissing each other messily as you both come down from your high.
"Ahem." Gojo's voice startles you as you realize that neither he nor Nanami bothered to hang up the call. Horrified, the two of you wait with bated breath for his response, noting the suggestive ruffling in the background. "I apologize. I stand corrected."
#THIS IS SO SILLY I KNOW#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami drabbles#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami x you#kento nanami#nanami kento x you
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Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀
she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz
notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.
“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously.
“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”
shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”
“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.
utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer.
“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.
intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”
“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.
“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial.
utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.
“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly.
“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards.
utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”
from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.
“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.
with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.
bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.
“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.
“as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”
“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.
a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.
“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?” satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.
“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.
during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress.
“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.
“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”
you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.
“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.
you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.
“that’s what love does to a man.”
“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.”
satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.
“how much?”
“excuse me?”
“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you.
you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.
shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!”
suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”
“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.
she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”
you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.
trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”
“i’m buying you that dress.”
“o-okay.”
half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.
perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.
it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.
as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.
breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"
his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.
“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”
gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.
"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.
the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.
“what?”
“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”
“oh.”
silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.
satoru can only watch, entranced.
“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.
satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.
but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.
his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.
you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.
"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.
“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.
you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”
“great, it’s a date!”
good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.
maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.
#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#this is me coping bc of the leaks
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We, the residents of Gaza, are living a daily nightmare of bombings, killings, random shelling, and starvation. The continuous bombardment has brought destruction to our homes, forcing us to live among the rubble and in tents. Water and food have become scarce, and we have to walk long distances every day to get water, exposing ourselves to the risk of disease from severe pollution or death from random shelling. Our tents have no air conditioning and are extremely hot in this summer weather. Everywhere around us, the Israeli occupation forces continue their bombing and aggression.
With each new day, our suffering increases, but our hopes for a better tomorrow remain alive. That is why I have created a donation link to help us escape this miserable life. With your help, we can register all my family members and leave together without worrying about leaving anyone behind in Gaza. We kindly ask you to share this fundraising campaign.
I believe that every donation, no matter how small, can make a difference and help alleviate my family’s suffering by giving them a new chance at life and restoring the hopes and dreams we were forced to abandon. I would be sincerely grateful for any kind of support, whether through donations or simply by sharing the fundraising campaign link with your friends and family and as widely as possible within your social networks.
https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-abdallah-khader-and-his-family-survive-the-gaza-war?utm_source=copy_link&utm_medium=customer&utm_campaign=man_sharesheet_ft&attribution_id=sl:2c648430-dd5f-4088-91ff-90aa94d79154
We are all deeply grateful and honored and will never forget your kindness during our difficult times. Thank you.
#free palestine#palestinian genocide#save palestine#i stand with palestine#gaza#free gaza#gaza strip#all eyes on rafah#all eyes on gaza#watermelon#free palestine 🇵🇸
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Hello ?
Pairing : Lando Norris x Female!reader
Summary : It’s World Mental Health Day, and you get a call from a special someone.
Warning : None, just Fluff (for once), it’s short, use of she/her pronouns
Masterlist
« So today, in honor of World Mental Health Day, we’re going to as you to call someone and ask them, about their day, ask them how they have been. » The woman on the other side of the camera assied Lando.
« Ugh, i hate calling people. » Lando whined, grabbing his phone, and going through his contact list.
« Come on, it’s for a good cause. » The woman smiled. « You just have to say : Hey, I was just thinking about you, just wanted to check in, and just start a conversation with the person? Is that okay with you? »
« Yeah sure. » Lando replies softly, looking at the name he chose.
« Do you know who you’re going to call already? » The woman asked.
« Yup. » Lando pressed the call button; and put the speaker on. « I just hope she’s going to replay, she doesn’t like to speak on the phone either »
After a White, a feminine voice could be heard on the other side of the phone. « Hi? »
« Hello love » Lando said softly, smiling at the phone. « I was just thinking about you, and i wanted to check on you, y’know, hear you voice. »
« That’s very nice Lan. » Y/N smiled, holding the phone against her ear. « I’ve been thinking about you too. »
« What have you been up to love ? How are you? » Lando asked again.
« I’m okay, i’ve been working, y’know how it is. » She replied softly.
« Just okay? » He frowned.
« Better if you were here. » She smiles and giggled.
« I can’t let you be just okay, love. I’ll have to come to see you. » He said, grinning down at the phone, forgeting about the people around him.
« I’m happy you called, i needed that. Thank you. » She said softly. « I’ve missed you. »
« I’ve missed you too, love. I’m happy i called too. » He replied in the same tone. He looked around remembering all the team watching him. « I have to go film, love, i’ll call you back asap. »
« It’s okay, good luck today, Lan. I love you. »
« I love you too. Let me know if you need anything, okay? » He asked.
« Mhm, i will. Take care, don’t overwork yourself » She almost whispered.
« I won’t. You know I won’t. » Lando laughed a little. « Okay then. Take care, okay? I love you. »
« I love you too » Y/N blushed, smiling.
« I’ll see you soon love, I promise. » He said in a whisper.
« I’ll be waiting for you », after a few seconds, Y/N hung up, letting Lando contemplate a black screen.
As the call ended, Lando found himself staring at the black screen, a lingering smile on his face. For a moment, everything else seemed to fade away—cameras, lights, the crew around him—it was just him and the warmth of that conversation.
The woman on the other side of the camera smiled knowingly. “That sounded like more than just a casual check-in. You want to share a little more about her?”
Lando leaned back in his chair, still holding his phone loosely. “She’s... someone really special,” he said, his voice softer than usual. "You know when someone knows you inside out? Like, they get you in a way no one else does?"
The woman raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like it’s more than just a friend, Lando. Why did you pick her to call?"
Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because she makes me feel grounded. No matter how crazy things get, she’s always there, reminding me who I really am.”
The woman tilted her head, giving him a playful grin. “And you’re sure that’s the only reason?”
Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe there’s a little more to it than that.”
The woman leaned in closer, her tone gentle. “What are you waiting for, then? You said you’ll see her soon. Is that something you want to keep as a promise?”
Lando’s smile deepened, his eyes softening as he looked at the camera. “Yeah, it’s a promise. I’ve been away for too long, and I miss her more than I can explain.”
He glanced down at his phone, his heart warming as he thought about Y/N’s laugh, the way she always made him feel at home, no matter how far away he was. "I’ll see her soon," he repeated, almost to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. "And when I do, I’ll make sure she knows how much she means to me."
The woman watched him with a knowing smile, sensing that there was more to the story than Lando was willing to share on camera. "I think she already knows, Lando."
He smiled, nodding slowly. "Yeah, but I want to remind her."
The woman grinned. “Well, I think she’s waiting for you, so don’t keep her too long.”
Lando chuckled again, feeling lighter after the call. “I won’t. Promise.”
With that, the woman wrapped up the segment, but Lando’s thoughts remained on Y/N. As the cameras were turned off and the lights dimmed, his heart was already counting down the moments until they’d be together again. And this time, he wouldn’t let the distance keep them apart for so long.
NDA : I'm a bit late, but take care of your loved one guys, make sure to check on them, and if you guys need someone, a friend to talk to, you can come to me.
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#lando norris blurb#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando x reader#ln4 fluff#ln4 x y/n#ln4#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x reader#mclaren#lando norris#ln4 mcl#mclaren f1
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Thinking of First Friends.
I don't entirely understand why the other one hurts himself so much for MY sake.
I don't understand why he cannot put this grief to rest. I am happy! I would rather focus on the good things. I am so glad that I met my first friends. I am so happy to see THEM happy! I made them laugh! We laughed and we cried and we healed and we bonded over beautiful things. And they helped me remember my family, and remind me of what I really need from life to be happy.
And it was fun and wild and strange and messy. Worse things have happened with much less happy memories made along the way. :)
It was beautiful and strange and sad, as most fighters' stories go. I just wish he would stop hurting himself for "letting" me make one or two mistakes. For spiraling and being confused and making a fool of myself.
If our friendship was as truthful as I thought it was, then we all handled it alright. He, my other one, is so terrified that my mere name brings pain to those I still care about... I dearly hope not. I was just beginning to like this name, ha ha. :)
I wish I could soothe this body's heart. I wish it would beat softer and not be so shaken by things that were not his fault. A new quest for me to undertake. It is so easy to help strangers when most of all I need to help the one that got me here.
We will get there!
For now, we rest. We say goodbye to our momentary families and we take a crossroads elsewhere. Our paths diverge and that is alright. Like... finding kindred souls in the darkness. We bond around the fire, we eat, we drink, we comfort and laugh and cry and hold hands, rough calloused hands in broken tired hands. And we leave with our burdens just a tiny bit lighter.
I was afraid of being forgotten, but what does it matter? I would rather be forgotten then only remembered for my mistakes.
I don't think it matters either way. I have my closure. It's been fun and that's enough for me. I just hope the other one realizes that soon. I hate to feel him reliving tragedy because of something I did... I don't understand everything but I do recognize spirals and being unable to let go. But it's all in the past. We are here, myself and my new companions in this body, together. We are not alone anymore. We're going to be okay. We just need to trust ourselves, and the friends we make, however brief. :)
- Grist
#To be clear if my kindred souls do see this someday#I chose to 'unfollow' because... the other one is so torn apart. Hurting himself for my mistakes#that I trusted words too much and did not know how to recognize when someone is UNABLE to set the boundaries or clarity they NEED.#I am so sorry I did not know and did not handle my confusion well at the time#all I can hope is that if it truly is as bad as he fears it is... that the laughter and jokes and gentleness and rekindling of JOY for life#remains even after I am forgotten :)#Consider this... an invitation to forget. All I ask is that the Little Fighter does not forget my wisdom that I gifted him#and that they are all able to heal in the ways they need to#I will miss the happy moments so much! I wish I could continue to embrace them and laugh again and share more things#for my friends to find when they are ready...#but I would rather say goodbye completely than risk learning later that I was actually the one hurting them with my mere name and joy#I do not know how much sense it makes...#the body is FINALLY calm and at peace. So I know I am doing the right thing#I don't entirely wish to be forgotten intentionally... I still hope I was seen as a friend and not a burden.#But it doesn't matter. There was happiness and footfalls forward onto better gentler paths than there was before we met :)#And that is enough for me.#Goodbye my kindred souls of the Abyss. Goodbye my first friends of this world. I will be cheering for your success and a happier future!#You all deserve it! And I am honored to have been a tiny step in that journey. :)#- Grist
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Not me abusing the asks to both share my love for the bioparents AU AND rant about the panels because none of my friends are in the LMK fandom and I'm suffering here so TAKE MY LOVE AND APPRECIATION ABOUT YOUR ART I guess x)
So first of all
I am a SUCKER for that kind of leaning in frames I'm going to print that and plaster it on my wall THEY ARE EVERYTHING /hj
I almost jumped of my chair when this one popped up YOU FED US GOOD its so worth the angst train incoming. Of course the panels before and after were equally as amazing but if I start going about every single panel we're still here in three days AT THE VERY LEAST LOL
Of course this one made me laugh like please their little faces
Using that to point out how much I love ALLLLLLL the silly faces you put in your comics I'm munching on them every single time they're crushy like chips or something just. Nom nom. Yummy.
Poor Nesha (Nesha? Nezha? Neja? I have no idea on how to write his name I already forgor LMAO) needs to be payed more. He tries to save MK and ends up dealing with two lovesick teenagers demons who have no concept of time/place/occasion apparently. Poor him. He gets a pat on the head for his troubles
And of course just the "NOPE I'M KEEPING HIM" mode and honestly we should have seen it coming- Red son was planning to courtnap him and didn't sleep in the past 5 days so he's not having any bullshit YOU'RE NOT TAKING HIS NOODLE BOY AWAY-
Could bet he spent so long thinking about the cournapping in the 5 past days his brain just cannot process that yeah maybe you need to let him down you're just going to drag him in more troubles- Either that or he's just going full protective mode. Both options are good anyways sooooo :)
We stan a protective boyfriend in this house.
---
And finally I'm SOOOOO hyped about whatever is coming next like I know that technically we're supposed to suffer but please I climbed up the angst train so many times now I'm just enjoying it by that point lol. It'll just make the following fluff even more worth it
Also I cannot wait to see MK's plan about the contract I'm so curious I'm dying I love you boys but I really want the plot to progress you can go back to kissing later lol
Finally, thank you for creating this AU. It's stumbling randomly upon it on my tik tok fyp that dragged me into watching Lego Monkie Kid and really THANK YOU FOR THAT. It's such an amazing show I CANNOT BELIEVE I didn't discovered it sooner so really thank for having created this comic because else I could have missed LMK and that would be just saaaad
Fun fact: since I had never interacted with LMK the first time I read your comic, I for some reason thought Macaque was a female (and I probably would have thought the same of Wukong if he wasn't called... well, Wukong because I randomly stumbled upon the myth's Wikipedia page at some point in my life XD). The shock I felt when I heard Macaque for the first time in the show because his voice was soooooo not what I expected x) I'm still laughing at myself to this day
So yeah, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, and I can't wait to see what you're going to pull next :D Wish you allllll the best <3
(I can totally wait, of course, it's just a figure of speech. Take your time, I could wait forever for the next chapter)
ahaha thank you for such a lovely comment!! Glad the scene gived "MINE" vibes as I was planning ahah.
Youu're welcome! It's an honor to serve this fandom. *bows*
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Hi,
My name is Faten Al-Dahdouh from Gaza We are trapped between walls of fear, despair, and deep sorrow amidst the ongoing war in the Gaza Strip. We need the help of every person with a living conscience, a compassionate heart, and an understanding of humanity.
Who is Faten and her family?
I got married in 2000 and I am 42 years old. I have two daughters, Bara’a, 22, and Nada, 20. We all feel fear, deep sadness, and insecurity, suffering from severe psychological stress due to the relentless bombardment and destruction we have faced since the war on Gaza began. I owned a new apartment that was completed and ready for us to move into on October 1, 2023, just one week before the war. Unfortunately, my apartment was completely destroyed in the first week of the conflict.
How has the war turned our lives into such extreme suffering?
My furnished apartment was completely destroyed. I bought it with furniture and appliances for about 70,000 Doller, which I lost entirely. We had no choice but to seek shelter in tents or rent a place. Both options are difficult. Life in tents is like living in the desert. The rental prices for houses are extremely high. In Gaza, there are no basic necessities for life, such as clean water, complete food, cooking gas, electricity, or sufficient medicine. Even the price of candles is unbearable.
My strong resolve is to stand firm and honor you
My apartment was our only home, which forced us to flee several times. Despite the harsh conditions and ongoing uncertainties surrounding us, I remain optimistic and determined to provide a better future for us. My spirit is unbreakable, but I need help from those with living consciences and compassionate hearts to overcome the obstacles we face.
How can you help me?
My family and I aspire to build a better future for our children, ensuring their safety and allowing us all to live a dignified life, feeling secure and stable, and living in peace. Help us achieve this dream through your generous donations, which will undoubtedly have a significant impact on saving us.
The funds raised will be used for:
• Rebuilding the destroyed home and purchasing the furniture and appliances necessary for daily living.
• Food and water, ensuring we have the essential supplies and medical care we need.
• Education, supporting my daughters' education by covering tuition, school supplies, and necessary needs.
Every contribution matters
No donation is too small; every contribution brings us one step closer to relief and a better future. Even if you cannot contribute financially, sharing this campaign with your generous network can make a significant difference.
Thank you for your generous donation and help.
Faten Al-Dahdouh
North Gaza.
#free palestine#save palestine#palestinian genocide#i stand with palestine#gaza#free gaza#gaza genocide#gaza strip#gazaunderattack#all eyes on rafah
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A South Indian Miku doing a Bhartanatyam Dance!!
joining this trend in honor of my upcoming dance performance :)
edit: here are some links for various 🍉 🇵🇸 gofundmes. please please please share and donate if you can 🙏
@salembaker
@abdallhferwanagaza
@shadowyavenuetaco
@90-ghost
@lawyer-adhamayyad81
@atalah-mohammed
🇵🇸 🍉 ❤️
#my art#hatsune miku#miku worldwide#south india#woooo#asian#international miku#india#palestine#vocaloid
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dating . . . professional boxer bf .ᐟ 𐔌chan 𐦯
‣ headcannons from yours truly ౨ৎ
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
୨୧ always makes sure he has you at every match in the front row, only the best for his girl
classic sitting on the sink and tending to his wounds wattpad moments are shared very rarely
୨୧ never wants you to feel like you aren’t important to him so he always makes time for the two of you, wether it’s just you going to the gym together or date nights in the city
makes every interview about you somehow .. “oh i got to where i am to be better for my girlfriend” “what am i wearing? my girlfriend got it for me”
୨୧ doesn’t ever get too beat up, partially just because he’s good but also because he doesn’t want to worry you or see you upset over him
full on begs you to be nurse and patient for halloween because he takes his instagram VERY seriously and thinks you guys look so hot
୨୧ takes care of you in every way ‣ gets your nails done, has flowers for you every week, moves you into his apartment and lets you decorate how you want, just is at your every beck and call and he adores you
eventually gets a tattoo that represents you, like your anniversary or birthday or even your name. he also gets it in the literal sluttiest place possible like on the side of his hip or down his back
୨୧ honorable mention : manager felix who flirts with you because he doesn’t know you’re together and chan gives him a wet willy for it
always forgets how strong he is and carries you around like a baby while you’re like ???
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ୨୧ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
a/n : just a little something short because i’ve been neglecting my tumblr .. also because chan bruised up is yummy but im v motivated so ill be putting out more stuff !!
taglist : @cosmicalily @0sunshinecryptid0 @jinnieboosworld @lixies-favorite-cookie @zelinkcrossing @hyunjiluvs @eastjonowhere @nxtt2-u @pixie-felix @smlbch @tricky-ritz @yaniluvs @pigeonseatmayo ,
click here to be added or removed
#hyunjiisa#stray kids#bang chan#bangchan x reader#christopher bang#skz#stray kids x reader#christopher bang x reader#bang chris#stray kids hc#stray kids drabbles#stray kids oneshot#skz x you#skz drabbles#skz oneshots#skz headcanons#skz x reader#skz scenarios#skz imagines#skz fanfic#skz fluff
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The Broken Crown (1/2)
- Summary: Aegon the Conqueror's youngest sister, Y/N Targaryen, once bethrohed to Torrhen Stark, is forced into a marriage with her brother after he calls off her engagement out of jealousy. Struggling with her lost future and the life she never wanted, she repeatedly refuses Aegon's attempts to consummate the marriage. When she tries to escape to Essos on her dragon, Visenya intercepts her, and Aegon, in an act of control, chains her dragon to prevent any further rebellion, leaving her feeling trapped and broken.
- Pairing: sister!reader/Aegon I Targaryen
- Rating: Mature 16+
- Word count: 6 200+
- Next part: 2
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @fiction-fanfic-reader @fireandblood-mharmie @poisonedsultana
- A/N: Unexpected post. Let's see how it goes.
The wind howls outside your chambers, filling the air with the distant sounds of restless dragons, their cries melding with the deep, rolling growl of the sea beyond Dragonstone. The fire crackles in the hearth, sending flickers of light dancing across the walls. You sit alone, staring at the flickering flames, lost in thought. The glow reflects off the dark red and gold silk of your gown, the rich colors echoing the deep hues of Tesaerix's scales.
It has been weeks since your marriage to Aegon—your brother, your king—and yet your chambers remain cold. You know why he comes to you. You know what he desires. Yet every time, you turn him away, the bitterness of your broken future thick on your tongue.
You were supposed to be wed to Torrhen Stark, the former King in the North. A marriage of fire and ice, binding the Targaryens to the cold and ancient lineage of the Starks. You had imagined a life in the North, the fierce honor of the Starks, the warmth of a hearth shared between husband and wife, and the promise of a family. Torrhen would have been yours and yours alone. His loyalty and affection were clear in every letter, in every word whispered between couriers.
But Aegon... Aegon grew jealous. He called off the betrothal without a word to you, with a simple, royal command. And now, you sit here, a queen in name, yet more of a pawn than ever before.
The door to your chambers opens softly, the sound of boots upon stone barely audible over the crackling of the fire. You do not turn. You know who it is.
"Y/N," Aegon's voice rumbles low, rich with the quiet authority of a conqueror. He does not have to ask permission to enter; this is his castle, and you are his wife.
"You shouldn’t be here," you say quietly, your eyes still on the flames. "Not tonight."
"And yet, here I am." His voice is closer now, and you feel the heat of his presence behind you. "You’ve denied me time and time again."
You stand, your hands tightening into fists at your sides, still refusing to face him. "Because this was not meant to be. You took my future from me, Aegon. Torrhen was—" Your voice cracks, though you try to hold your composure. "I was meant to marry him. I was meant to be his only wife, to have his children. You stole that from me."
Aegon steps around to face you, his violet eyes, so like your own, burning with a mixture of frustration and something deeper. His silver hair, shining in the firelight, falls loosely about his shoulders, making him seem more a dragon than a man.
"You speak of duty as if you do not know it, sister," he says, his voice softer now, though no less commanding. "Do you truly believe you could have lived in the North? Away from your blood? Away from me?"
His words send a chill through you, a reminder of the bond that ties you both. You were born into the same fire, raised together, shared in the same dreams of conquest. But his love, twisted as it has become, feels like chains wrapping around your heart.
"I would have learned," you whisper, your throat tight. "For Torrhen, I would have made a home there."
"And you would have grown cold," Aegon replies, stepping closer, his hands reaching out to grasp your arms. "The North would have frozen the fire in your blood. You belong with me, Y/N. We were meant to rule together."
You yank your arms away from his grip, taking a step back, your eyes blazing. "No, Aegon. You and Visenya, you and Rhaenys, were meant to rule. I was an afterthought. You married me out of jealousy, not love. You couldn’t bear the thought of me in the arms of another man."
Aegon’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, you see the flicker of anger in his eyes. He steps forward again, but you hold your ground.
"You speak as though I do not care for you," he says, his voice dangerously low. "I made a banner in your honor. You fly your own colors, the colors of Tesaerix, because you are more than just my wife. You are my queen, my equal."
"I never asked for that," you snap, your voice rising, the pain and anger finally spilling over. "I never wanted a crown, Aegon. I wanted a life. You took that from me when you sent Torrhen away."
He is silent for a long moment, his eyes searching your face as if looking for some hint of the sister who once stood by his side, unwavering in her support. But that girl is gone now, replaced by a woman hardened by the reality of her fate.
"Perhaps," he says finally, his voice softer now, almost resigned. "But we cannot change the past. You are mine, Y/N. Whether you accept it or not."
You turn your back to him again, the weight of his words pressing down on you. You hear him move toward the door, his boots heavy on the stone floor. For a moment, you think he will leave. But then, his voice breaks the silence once more.
"One day, you will come to understand why I did what I did. And when that day comes, I will be here. Waiting."
The door closes behind him, the sound echoing in the stillness of your chambers. You are left alone once more, the fire burning low, its warmth doing little to chase away the cold that has settled deep in your bones.
You sink to the floor before the hearth, staring into the dying flames, and wonder if there will ever come a day when you can forgive him—if you even want to.
The grand hall of Dragonstone feels heavy with silence as you sit at the long, stone-carved table. The walls are adorned with tapestries depicting the glory of Old Valyria, the ancestors watching with cold, lifeless eyes. You sit between Rhaenys and Visenya, with Aegon at the head, his silver hair gleaming in the candlelight. The air is thick with the unspoken weight of your marriage, lingering over the table like a shadow.
The food before you remains untouched. Plates of roasted meats, rich gravies, and spiced wine fill the room with tempting aromas, but you have no appetite. Your mind is elsewhere, churning with thoughts of the future that was stolen from you. Torrhen’s face, sharp and distant like the North itself, lingers in your memory.
Visenya breaks the silence, her voice sharp and direct, as is her way. "Y/N," she says, her violet eyes piercing as they settle on you, "when will you finally do your duty to our brother?"
Her words hang in the air, and you feel the weight of everyone's gaze upon you. Rhaenys shifts beside you, her warm, gentle nature a silent contrast to Visenya's cold command. You take a slow breath, gripping the edge of your goblet, the cool metal pressing into your palm.
"If this is about duty, sister," you reply, your voice calm but edged with steel, "then Aegon should come to you. Isn’t that what you care for most, Visenya? Duty?"
Visenya’s eyes narrow, her lips a thin line. "It is our duty to secure the future of our house. You were born for this. You were married for this."
"I was married," you cut in, the words sharper than you intend, "because our brother couldn’t stomach the thought of another man having me." Your gaze flickers to Aegon, who has remained silent, watching the exchange with his usual unreadable expression. "Or is that something none of us are supposed to speak of?"
Rhaenys’ soft, musical voice tries to ease the tension. "We are family, Y/N. Aegon is trying to—"
"To what?" you interrupt, turning your gaze on her. "To make me love him as you do? If our brother seeks love and soft caresses, he should come to you, Rhaenys. You always give him what he desires, don’t you?"
Rhaenys flinches at the harshness of your tone, her eyes lowering to her untouched plate. You almost feel a pang of guilt for your words, but the storm of emotion inside you doesn’t let you stop.
Aegon’s gaze finally lifts from his plate, meeting yours. His violet eyes, usually so hard to read, flicker with something—anger? Hurt? Perhaps both. But he says nothing, allowing the silence to deepen, allowing you to stew in the consequences of your words.
Visenya’s voice cuts through again, colder than before. "You may think you are different from us, Y/N, but you are not. We all carry the same blood. We all have the same purpose. Do not forget that."
You push your chair back abruptly, the scraping of wood against stone breaking the silence. The sound echoes through the hall, reverberating off the high ceilings. You rise, standing tall, your hands clenched at your sides.
"I haven’t forgotten," you say, your voice bitter. "But perhaps I was never meant to be part of this."
Without another word, you turn and leave the table, your untouched meal forgotten behind you. You walk swiftly through the hall, your footsteps muffled by the heavy carpets, and once you pass the threshold, the cold air of Dragonstone greets you like a slap. It chills your skin, but you welcome it. It’s a reminder that despite everything, you are still free to make some choices. Even if only in small rebellions.
As you make your way down the corridor, the sounds of your siblings fade behind you. You are alone once more, with nothing but the distant cries of dragons and the pounding of your heart to accompany you.
The hall feels emptier once you’re gone, the echo of your departing footsteps swallowed by the vastness of the space. For a long moment, no one speaks. The air is filled with your absence, and the untouched food on your plate remains a quiet accusation of all that was left unsaid.
Aegon sits motionless, his hands resting on the table, fingers curled around the goblet he hasn’t touched. His shoulders slump slightly, the weight of something far heavier than a crown pressing down on him. His face, usually impassive and stern, is now unguarded, a mixture of frustration, pain, and an unfamiliar vulnerability etched into his features. The Conqueror, the dragon lord, looks fragile—broken, even.
Rhaenys watches him, her eyes full of concern, though she remains silent for once. Her gentle attempts to soothe the tension earlier had been met with resistance, and now she seems at a loss, her gaze flicking between Aegon and Visenya. Her hands rest lightly on her lap, fingers trembling just slightly as she resists the urge to reach for Aegon.
Visenya, on the other hand, is still as stone. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and her eyes remain cold, unreadable. The eldest of you, always the embodiment of purpose, of resolve, watches Aegon closely but makes no move to comfort him. Her hands, wrapped around her knife and fork, remain steady, continuing her meal as though nothing had happened, though she chews slowly, her eyes calculating.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Aegon’s voice breaks the silence, though it is barely more than a whisper. "She hates me."
His words hang in the air, and for a moment, no one speaks. Aegon’s grip tightens around the goblet, and one can see the whiteness of his knuckles as though the tension might shatter the cup. His head is bowed, and for the first time, he looks… lost.
"She does not hate you," Rhaenys says softly, her voice thick with sympathy. "She’s angry. Hurt. But hate?" She shakes her head, her dark curls catching the firelight. "That is not what this is."
Aegon’s lips twitch, a bitter smile flickering at the corners. "She does not love me, Rhaenys. And she never will."
Visenya’s voice is sharp, cutting through the fragile moment like the edge of a blade. "Love is not why she was wed to you, brother. Love was never the purpose." She sets her knife and fork down deliberately, the clink of metal against the plate unnervingly calm in the face of Aegon’s turmoil. "You knew that."
Aegon’s head lifts, his eyes wet and shining with unspoken emotions. He looks at Visenya, his usually hard gaze pleading now, searching her face for some kind of answer. "But I wanted it," he says, the words rough, torn from somewhere deep inside him. "I wanted her to love me, as she would have loved Stark. Is that so wrong?"
Visenya’s expression doesn’t change. Her voice remains cold, unwavering. "You are her brother, her king. You were never meant to be her lover in the way you want."
Rhaenys, sensing the deepening wound, reaches across the table, her hand hovering just above Aegon’s arm. "She’s young still, Aegon," she says softly, her voice filled with her usual warmth. "She has not yet come to terms with her place. In time, perhaps…"
Aegon pulls away from her touch, his hand falling from the goblet to rest heavily on the table. "No," he mutters, shaking his head. "She will never come to terms with this. She will always look at me as if I am the one who destroyed her life." His voice breaks slightly, and he presses his palms into his eyes, as though trying to hold himself together, to keep the pain from spilling out.
"Then stop chasing her love," Visenya says, her voice devoid of sympathy. "Do your duty. Take her to your bed, sire her children, and end this farce of a romance you have created in your mind."
Aegon’s hands drop from his face, and he looks at her, stunned. "Is that all you see in this? Duty?"
Visenya’s eyes meet his, cold and unwavering. "That is all there ever was for us."
The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the crackle of the hearth. Aegon turns his gaze to the fire, his shoulders sagging even further under the weight of Visenya’s words. The great conqueror, the king who united the Seven Kingdoms, is reduced to this—a man who sought love from someone who could not give it.
Rhaenys, her heart breaking at the sight of her brother in such despair, shifts in her seat, but she knows that no words of hers will soothe him now. Aegon has always carried the burden of their dynasty alone, but tonight, it has grown too heavy, even for him.
"You have us," Rhaenys says quietly, though her voice trembles with emotion. "You will always have us, Aegon."
But Aegon does not respond. His eyes remain fixed on the flames, and for the first time in your life, you see him not as the Conqueror, not as the dragon lord who tamed the world, but as a man—lost and alone in a castle full of people who love him, yet none who can give him what he truly desires.
And so the meal continues in silence, the clatter of cutlery and the crackling fire the only sounds in the hall. The untouched plates before you all bear witness to the shattered remnants of your family’s fragile bonds, while outside, the wind and the sea howl against the ancient walls of Dragonstone.
The sea winds howl outside your chambers, the sound haunting and relentless, like the cry of some distant, wounded beast. You sit by the open window, gazing out into the dark night, the vast ocean stretching far beyond the horizon, endless and full of promise. Your mind wanders to Tesaerix, resting in her lair below. You imagine her golden and cream scales shimmering in the moonlight, the crimson undertones beneath them gleaming like freshly spilled blood. She is your escape, your one chance at freedom.
You toy with the thought, turning it over and over in your mind—leaving this place. Far from Dragonstone, from Westeros, from the suffocating weight of duty and broken promises. Essos calls to you like a whisper on the wind, a distant land where dragons are still revered and feared, where you could carve out a life for yourself far from Aegon’s reach. You could mount Tesaerix tonight, ride her across the Narrow Sea and never look back.
The idea pulls at you, tempting you more with every passing moment. To be free of this cursed marriage, free of the bitter silence and the constant reminders of what you’ve lost. But it’s not just the present that haunts you—it’s the past, the memories of a love that was torn from you before it had the chance to bloom.
Your mind drifts back to Torrhen Stark, the man you were meant to marry. The King in the North, a man of honor and quiet strength, so different from the fire and chaos of your family. You think of the first time you met him, after he had bent the knee to Aegon. He had refused to take you as a war prize, refused to make you his by conquest, despite the whispers of your brothers. He had chosen to see you as something more, as someone worth knowing, worth loving.
You remember the way his eyes had softened when he looked at you, the way his gruff voice had gentled whenever he spoke your name. It had been a brief time, but intense—your feelings for him had grown quickly, like a wildfire racing through a dry forest. You’d fallen in love with him, hard and fast, and he with you. It was supposed to be an alliance not only of fire and ice, but of hearts.
You can still hear his deep, steady voice, promising you a future in the North. A future where you would be his only wife, where you would bear his children, where you could have the kind of life you dreamed of—one filled with love, respect, and loyalty. It had seemed perfect, a rare gift for someone of your blood, born into a family where duty always outweighed desire.
But then Aegon had taken that from you. He had changed his mind as suddenly as a storm sweeping over the sea, without explanation, without reason. One moment, your future with Torrhen had been certain, and the next, it was gone. Aegon had called off the betrothal, declaring that you were to remain in Dragonstone and marry him instead.
Your world had shattered in that instant. The life you had planned with Torrhen, the love you had begun to build, all of it ripped away before it had the chance to take root. You had cried out, fought against it, pleaded with Aegon to reconsider, but his decision was final. The bond between fire and ice, the life you had dreamed of in the North, vanished like smoke in the wind.
The memory of Torrhen’s face, when you told him of Aegon’s decision, still haunts you. His features had hardened, the quiet grief in his eyes breaking your heart all over again. He had not blamed you; how could he, when you had been as much a victim of your brother’s jealousy as he had? But the pain in his silence had cut deeper than any words could have.
You wonder, sometimes, what might have been. What your life would be like now, had Aegon not interfered. You can imagine yourself standing beside Torrhen in Winterfell’s great hall, the warmth of a fire crackling in the hearth, the cold winds of the North howling outside but unable to touch you. You would have had a home there. A real home, with Torrhen by your side, with the love you had begun to build blossoming into something strong and unbreakable.
But here, in this cold, dark castle, you are alone. You are Aegon’s wife, yes, but in name only. There is no love here, only duty, only the weight of expectations and a future you never wanted.
Your gaze shifts to the sea, the waves crashing against the cliffs below. The pull to leave is stronger now. You imagine the wind whipping through your hair as Tesaerix soars above the clouds, the world falling away beneath you as you fly far, far from here. Essos, the Free Cities, perhaps even beyond the Shadow Lands. Anywhere that is not here, anywhere that is far from the suffocating grip of your brother and the life he has forced upon you.
You stand, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you move toward the window. Tesaerix waits, her powerful wings and fiery breath ready to carry you to freedom. All it would take is a single command, a whispered word, and you could be gone. You could leave this place behind, leave Aegon and Visenya and Rhaenys and the weight of their expectations, and start a new life far from the shadow of the Iron Throne.
But then Torrhen’s face flashes in your mind again, and you falter. The North is lost to you, but would running away truly be any better? Would it bring you the peace you crave, or would it only leave you even more adrift, without even the faint hope of reclaiming what was taken from you?
Your hand rests on the stone window ledge, cold and hard beneath your palm. The choice stands before you, vast and open like the sea. Stay and endure, or fly away and risk everything for the chance at a new beginning.
For now, you remain. The wind howls, but the decision is not yet made.
For two weeks, Aegon comes to your chambers each night, his steps soft but purposeful as he approaches the door. You always hear him before he arrives, the distant echo of boots on stone corridors signaling yet another attempt. Every time, he brings something—a token of affection, as if material offerings could mend the chasm between you.
At first, it is fine silk from distant lands, robes embroidered with dragons and flames, the kind of luxury that would make others swoon. Then, he brings rare books, scrolls of knowledge written in the ancient Valyrian tongue, words meant to remind you of your shared heritage. One night, he brings a necklace of rubies, its deep red glistening like dragonfire in the low light. The next, a golden ring with the Targaryen sigil engraved on it, a symbol of the dynasty you are bound to by blood and duty.
Each gift you receive with a polite, distant nod, setting them aside, your heart unmoved. The weight of his gaze is always upon you, a mixture of hope and frustration lingering in his violet eyes. His words are softer now than they were in the beginning, his anger quelled, replaced by a quiet desperation. He is trying to win you, but the harder he tries, the more distant you feel.
The final gift he brings is a crown—delicate, finely crafted, with jewels of crimson and gold embedded in the pale metal. It is beautiful, a queen's crown, meant to match his. When he places it on your lap, he watches you with an intensity that makes the air thick between you, waiting for something—for approval, for gratitude, for love.
But you only stare at it, unmoving.
"This is yours," he says, his voice almost pleading now. "You are a queen in your own right, Y/N. Not just my sister, but my equal. You deserve this."
Your fingers brush the cold metal of the crown, but it feels like chains, not a symbol of power. You lift your gaze to meet his, your voice steady but firm. "I never wanted a crown, Aegon."
The hurt flickers in his eyes, but you have nothing left to give him. He leaves, the crown sitting abandoned on the edge of your bed, gleaming in the dim light as if mocking you.
One day, his words change.
Aegon enters your chambers, but there is a new tension in the way he moves, a sense of finality in the air. He doesn't bring a gift this time, only the weight of a decision made. You watch him, already knowing something is different.
“We leave for King’s Landing soon," he says, his voice more formal than it has been in weeks. "Aegonfort is ready for us. It will be our new home, where we will build the future of our house."
You feel the words like a cold wind sweeping over you. Aegonfort, the seat of his conquest, the beginning of the new kingdom he is carving out. The idea of leaving Dragonstone—leaving the sea, the cliffs, the only place you’ve ever truly known—sends a chill down your spine. Aegon might see King’s Landing as his victory, but for you, it feels like another cage.
"I don’t want to go," you say, your voice flat, devoid of emotion.
Aegon pauses, as if he didn’t hear you properly, as if he can’t comprehend that you would refuse. “You have to go,” he says slowly, as though speaking to a child. "You are my wife, my queen. You belong at my side."
You rise from where you’ve been sitting, facing him fully, your heart racing with the surge of rebellion that has been growing inside you for weeks. "I belong here," you say, gesturing to the stone walls, to the island that has been your sanctuary, even in the darkest times. "I do not want to go to King’s Landing, to sit in that castle you built, watching you and Visenya and Rhaenys pretend that everything is perfect."
He steps toward you, his face tightening, a flash of anger returning to his features. "You think you can remain here, alone, while the rest of us build our kingdom? This is not a choice, Y/N. You are my wife."
"I never wanted to be," you snap, the words finally breaking free from your lips, bitter and sharp. "You made me your wife, but you never asked me what I wanted. You took me from the future I could have had, from Torrhen—"
"Stark, again? Torrhen is not your future," Aegon interrupts, his voice hardening now. "I am."
"You stole my future, Aegon," you retort, your voice trembling with the weight of your grief. "You took away the one thing I had, and now you expect me to be grateful for this life you’ve forced upon me? You expect me to follow you to your new castle and wear this crown and play the role of your queen?"
His jaw clenches, and for a moment, he says nothing. The silence stretches between you, tense and suffocating. Then, slowly, he steps back, his eyes dark with something you can’t name—anger, yes, but there’s more. Regret? Hurt?
“You will come,” he says finally, his voice low and rough, almost a whisper. “Whether you wish it or not, Y/N. You will come with us.”
You turn away from him, your back to the man who has taken everything from you. You hear him leave the room, his footsteps heavy and final, but the emptiness he leaves behind feels like the deepest cut of all.
You are alone once more, staring out the window at the distant sea. Tesaerix calls to you from the depths of your soul, her distant roars echoing in your mind. The thought of running away comes back to you, stronger now than ever. But for now, you remain, standing at the precipice of a decision that could change everything.
The sun is high in the sky as you and your siblings take flight, the winds rushing past as your dragons soar over the shimmering sea. Below, the jagged cliffs of Dragonstone grow smaller with every wingbeat. Tesaerix flies gracefully beneath you, her golden and cream scales glinting in the sunlight, the deep crimson undertones flickering like blood in the wind. For a moment, you feel weightless—free. The burden of your marriage, of your crown, seems far away in the skies.
Ahead of you, Aegon leads the way on Balerion, the massive black dragon casting a long shadow over the sea. Rhaenys is beside him, her Meraxes keeping pace, and to your left flies Visenya, Vhagar’s powerful wings slicing through the air. The three of them are focused on King's Landing, their eyes set on the growing kingdom they are about to build. But your heart is elsewhere.
You glance down at the sea, endless and blue, stretching toward Essos. The temptation has been gnawing at you for weeks, the thought of breaking away, of flying far from here. Away from Aegon, from the fate that has been thrust upon you. The wind rushes through your hair as you tighten your grip on Tesaerix’s reins, your mind made up.
With a subtle shift in pressure, you command her to turn, pulling away from the formation. Tesaerix tilts her wings, veering off course, away from King’s Landing, away from your brother. Your heart races, a mix of fear and exhilaration filling your veins as you set your sights on the horizon, where the lands of Essos lie in the distance, beyond the reach of Aegon’s grasp.
Behind you, Aegon’s voice rises above the wind, calling your name, desperate and commanding. “Y/N! Turn back!”
But you don’t. You don’t even glance behind you. The sound of his voice fades as you fly farther, the space between you growing wider with every passing second. Tesaerix roars beneath you, as if sensing your resolve, her powerful wings beating faster as she surges toward freedom.
For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you feel alive. The weight of duty, of marriage, of everything that has kept you chained to this life begins to slip away, carried off by the wind. The open skies of Essos call to you like a promise, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you believe you might make it.
Then you hear the deep, thunderous roar of Vhagar.
Visenya.
You glance over your shoulder, and there she is—Visenya, fierce and relentless, closing the distance between you with terrifying speed. Vhagar, far larger than Tesaerix, cuts through the air with powerful, determined strokes. Visenya’s face is set in cold determination, her eyes locked on you with the same intensity she wears in battle.
“Y/N, stop!” she commands, her voice cold as steel, cutting through the wind like a blade. Vhagar roars again, a sound so deep and menacing it sends a shiver down your spine. But you do not stop. You push Tesaerix harder, willing her to fly faster, to escape the inevitable.
But Visenya is not one to be outrun.
Vhagar catches up, pulling alongside you with terrifying ease, her massive bulk dwarfing Tesaerix. Visenya leans forward in her saddle, her voice filled with authority. “Turn back, Y/N! Now!”
Your jaw clenches, your heart pounding in your chest. You meet her gaze for a moment, the defiance in your eyes clear. But Visenya does not waver. Her eyes are cold, unforgiving, and in that moment, you know she will force you back if she has to. She will not let you leave.
The wind whips around you as you pull Tesaerix to slow her flight, the moment of freedom slipping away from you as Vhagar looms beside you, a reminder of the chains that bind you. Visenya’s gaze does not leave yours, and she waits—waits for you to surrender, to accept the inevitable.
With a heavy heart, you tug on the reins, guiding Tesaerix back toward King’s Landing. The dream of escape fades into the distance as you turn, the pull of duty dragging you back toward the life you never wanted. Visenya does not speak again, but her presence is a silent command that you dare not disobey.
As you fly back toward Aegon and Rhaenys, the open skies of Essos behind you, the taste of freedom lingers on your tongue like ashes.
The moment Tesaerix touches the ground, the reality of your failed escape crashes down upon you like a wave. Her powerful wings fold at her sides, but there is no pride in her stance now—only the stillness of submission, forced upon you both by Visenya and Vhagar’s dominance.
You barely have time to catch your breath when Balerion descends, the great shadow of the Black Dread falling over you. His monstrous bulk blocks Tesaerix’s path back to the skies, his massive wings spread wide like an impenetrable wall. Aegon sits atop him, his expression dark, stormy, and unreadable. Rhaenys and Meraxes circle high above, silent witnesses to your humiliation.
The ground trembles as Balerion lands, his roar a deep, earth-shaking sound that makes the ground beneath your feet vibrate. You can feel Tesaerix shifting beneath you, uneasy but still under your control—for now. But even she can sense the finality of what is about to happen.
Aegon swings down from Balerion’s saddle, his steps heavy as he approaches you. His face, usually so composed, is a mix of anger and something close to disbelief. When he speaks, his voice is low, cold. "You would abandon us. Abandon me."
Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat like a hammer against stone. "Aegon, I—"
"You fled from your duty, Y/N," he interrupts, his voice growing harsher. His violet eyes bore into you, as if he’s searching for some understanding of why you would run. "What were you thinking? Were you going to Essos? Were you going to leave us all behind?"
His words cut deep, the sharpness of his accusation stinging more than you expected. But you lift your chin, defiance still burning in your chest. "You took everything from me, Aegon. You took my future, my choice, my life. I wanted to escape—to find something that was mine."
For a moment, his expression softens, as though he might understand. But then, his gaze hardens again. He turns to the soldiers who have gathered nearby, his voice carrying a command that makes your blood run cold. "Chain her dragon."
You feel the words like a physical blow. "No." Your voice is a whisper at first, and then louder, desperation filling it. "No! Aegon, you can’t—please, don’t do this!"
But he does not waver. The soldiers begin to move toward Tesaerix, and she growls low in her throat, sensing the threat. You scramble down from the saddle, running to stand between the men and your dragon, your heart pounding in your chest. "She’s done nothing wrong! You can’t punish her for what I did!"
Aegon’s face is hard, his jaw set. "She’s your dragon, Y/N. You tried to flee on her back. This is to ensure it doesn’t happen again."
"I’ll stay, I’ll do whatever you ask, just don’t chain her," you beg, your voice cracking with desperation. You look into his eyes, hoping—praying—that somewhere inside him, the brother you once knew still exists. "Please, Aegon. Don’t take her freedom. She’s not like Balerion or Vhagar—she’s mine. Please."
But your pleas fall on deaf ears. His gaze flickers, but his resolve does not falter. "This is for your own good. You will not leave us again."
You watch in horror as the chains are brought forth, heavy iron links meant to bind Tesaerix’s limbs and wings. She lets out a deep, angry roar, thrashing against the soldiers who dare approach her, but they move swiftly, well-practiced in subduing dragons. The weight of the chains soon drags her wings down, grounding her in a way that feels like a betrayal to everything she is—a creature of the skies, bound to the earth like a prisoner.
You fall to your knees, tears streaming down your face as you reach out to touch her, your hand trembling as it presses against her warm scales. "I’m sorry," you whisper, your voice shaking. "I’m so sorry."
Tesaerix rumbles softly, her eyes meeting yours, but there is a sadness in her gaze, a reflection of the helplessness you both feel.
Aegon watches from a distance, his expression unreadable now, but you can see the faint trace of guilt in his eyes. He turns his back to you, as if unable to bear the sight of your anguish.
Visenya remains mounted on Vhagar, her gaze sharp and unyielding. She offers no comfort, no sympathy. This is what must be done in her eyes, a necessary lesson in control. Rhaenys, still observing from above, does not intervene either. Her silence speaks volumes, but her presence feels distant, like she is struggling with the sight of your suffering.
The chains rattle as they secure the last link, the sound like a death knell in the still air. Tesaerix lowers her head, defeated, and your heart shatters along with her spirit.
You rise slowly to your feet, wiping the tears from your face with trembling hands, your eyes hollow as you look at Aegon one last time. "You’ve broken her," you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Just as you’ve broken me."
Aegon does not respond. He does not even turn. And in that moment, you know that the brother you once loved, the brother who might have understood your heart, is gone—replaced by the conqueror who cannot allow defiance, not even from his own blood.
#house of the dragon#game of thrones#fire and blood#asoiaf#aegon i x you#aegon i x reader#aegon i x y/n#aegon i targaryen#aegon the conqueror#aegon x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon x y/n#aegon x you#balerion#vhagar#meraxes#visenya targaryen#rhaenys targaryen
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welcome to broadway (one-shot)
summary: it's the anniversary of oklahoma! and with it being your first broadway show, hugh takes you under his wing to show you the ropes. along the way, you realize that you've developed feelings for him. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 5.4k warnings: dry humping, suggestive smut (sorry - didn't go explicit in this one!), light dirty talk (this also isn't proofread, so apologies for any typos!!!) a/n: to the anon and @sir-thisisadndserver who both requested a story about broadway, i hope you both enjoyed this!!! (ugh, i wish i could watch the music man in good quality bc he just looks so good in it. but also, hugh in oklahoma! has done things to me... my god, his voice, the curls, just everything.) i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman! this is purely fictional.
THE TABLE READ
You can’t believe it. Lead role of Oklahoma for their anniversary showing. Twenty five years later and while mostly everyone came back except the role of Laurey, you were the only odd one out. You knew what this play entailed, knew exactly how it would end. You also knew that you’d be playing alongside Hugh Jackman, who was reprising his role as Curly.
You’re excited, yet nervous. Hugh Jackman not only was an amazing movie and television actor, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t watch most (if not all) of his shows on Broadway. His sheer talent truly captivated, yet intimidated you. You don’t know how you will be able to act “normal” around him. He isn’t just talented, but he’s also incredibly attractive. Anyone with eyes would be able to see that.
You’re the first one seated at the table and notice Hugh is set to sit next to you. You keep your eyes focused on the pages in front of you, trying to calm your nerves and get yourself ready to be in character. You can hear people come in, excitement and laughter filtering the room. You take a deep breath and stand up to introduce yourself. You’re taken aback by how welcoming everyone is and it puts you at ease, your nerves slowly beginning to die down. Everyone’s excitement is infectious, making you feel immensely thankful to be part of this cast.
Your back is turned to the door, talking to one of the cast members that you don’t realize Hugh Jackman has finally arrived. He’s greeting everyone with a large grin and waves and you don’t notice. Not until you feel a soft touch in the middle of your back. Slowly, you turn around and look up, eyes slightly going wide as you stare up at him.
He’s staring down at you with such a large smile that it literally makes you feel weak in the knees. Yeah, you don’t know how you’re going to get through this play without fawning over him, especially since your character – Laurey – tries to hide her feelings for Curly for the majority of the play.
“Hello there,” he says softly, hand extending out for you to take. “I don’t think we’ve gotten the chance to meet yet. I’m Hugh.”
You bite your lower lip and extend your own hand, gently sliding it into his and shaking it slowly. “Hi,” you smile shyly and tell him your name. “It’s an honor to share the stage with you. I’ve been a huge fan.”
Hugh chuckles, his hand soft and light with yours. He releases your hand and keeps his eyes solely focused on you. “I’m a huge fan as well,” he admits. “I’m glad you get to be my Laurey.”
My Laurey. You feel your heart rate beat ten times faster, heat rising in your cheeks. “And you, my Curly.”
He lets out a quiet chuckle, hands moving to his pockets. Hugh finds your energy and presence very calming and despite this being your first ever time on Broadway, he has to commend you for being professional. Though, he can see the excitement that flickers in your eyes. He knows that look, has even donned that same look every time he got on stage. “So, I hear this is your first time?”
“On Broadway, yeah. Do I seem too nervous?” you laugh, biting your lower lip. “Because if I do, it’s because I am. I’m trying to keep it cool, but to be in a room with all of you? I just can’t believe it. I don’t want to mess up.”
Hugh’s eyes softened. “Eh, we’re just a group of people who love to perform, including you. We’re all gonna make mistakes along the way, even on opening night, but as long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters.”
You’ve heard stories of Hugh – how he puts people at ease, looks out for everyone in the cast and crew, and right now, you’re experiencing it firsthand. You suddenly feel your nerves disappear under his gaze and for once since finding out that you’d be playing the lead role of Laurey, you feel immense excitement. You’ve never been one to be shy on stage, but knowing that you’d be the new person in this cast instilled anxiety in you. They’ve done this before. They’ve played these same roles. And ultimately, you didn’t want to disappoint any of them.
“Thank you,” you finally reply. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.”
“Well, if you never need more reassurance, I’m your man.” he winks.
The theater director calls everyone’s attention, making a short speech at how it’s great to be back and how amazing of a show you were all going to have. You look around the room, seeing the smiles on everyone’s faces before you finally look up at Hugh. You’re surprised because he’s already looking down at you, giving you a reassuring nod as you feel his hand brush against yours.
The subtle action grounds you, settles the nerves that begin to build in the pit of your stomach. You feel a sudden calmness wash over you as you take a deep breath, pulling your gaze away from him when you hear your name being called.
“And we have our Laurey,” your theater director says, everyone clapping and cheering for you. “Welcome,” he says with a grin. “We’re lucky to have you.”
You smile in his direction, nodding at everyone else in the room. “Glad to be part of this amazing cast,” you reply, everyone continuing to clap before it begins to slow down.
“And our Curly,” the theater director continues, nodding towards the man standing next to you. “We’re all so excited that you’re here to reprise your role. It’s gonna be a great show.”
Once the theater director finishes his speech, everyone in the room takes their respective seats. Hugh pulls out your chair for you and you smile up at him, sitting down as he pushes it in for you.
“Thank you,” you tell him.
“Anytime,” he winks.
—
Throughout the table read, you finally feel at ease, comfortable in your element as you change your accent to reflect your character’s. Hugh changes his own and how lucky of you to get a front seat of his skill and talent. He turns to you, saying his lines at the beginning of the play. “On'y she talked so mean to me a while back, Aunt Eller, I'm a good mind not to take her.”
He’s staring at you with a charming smile, leaning back against his seat with his eyes staring into yours.
You then say your line, rolling your eyes with your arms crossed over your chest. “Ain't said I was goin'!”
Hugh then says his line almost immediately, “Ain't ast you!”
There’s a silence that engulfs the entire room as you two stare at each other. He’s still staring at you with a big grin and you with a frown on your face and eyes narrowed. You’re surprised at how much chemistry you already have with him, how easy it is to slip into the role of Laurey and exchange lines with him without any issue.
As the table read continues, you can’t help but take notice of Hugh’s presence next to you. The scene where you kiss approaches and you know that it isn’t going to happen here, today, but to know that you will eventually have to kiss him makes you nervous, but also very excited.
By the time the table read ends, a few hours have passed and everyone claps. The theater director dismisses all of you, saying that rehearsals will begin next week. You begin to pack your things before you feel Hugh gently reach a hand out to rest over your forearm.
“You did great,” he says. “And to think you were nervous?”
“I was,” you laugh quietly. “But I guess you helped ease my nerves.”
“I did, huh?” he smiles proudly. “Well, I suppose I should say you’re welcome.”
You shake your head, standing up from the table and seeing him follow suit. “I was wondering–”
“Do you think we should–”
You both say simultaneously, both letting out a quiet laugh. “You first,” you tell him, gazing up at him.
Hugh smiles, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck nervously. “Would you be okay with exchanging numbers? We can go over lines sometime when we’re not in rehearsal to get more practice in.”
You’re trying to contain your excitement, trying to remain calm and collected, so you give him a nod and then reach for your phone. “I was thinking the same thing. Here,” you hand him your phone and see him give you his. “Maybe we can meet up for coffee later this week?”
Hugh smiles, typing in his number into your phone. “That’d be great. I know a perfect place.”
You smile to yourself and type in your number before handing his phone back to him and taking your phone from him. “Perfect,” you respond, putting your phone back into your bag. “And if I get nervous at all–”
“Feel free to text me. Or call me.” Hugh finishes for you. “Like I said, I’m your man.”
“Thanks, Curly,” you grin, changing your accent to reflect Laurey. “That’s mighty kind’a you.”
Hugh chuckles, his eyes twinkling in the light as he smiles down at you. “Anythin’ for ya, Laurey.”
—
REHEARSALS
The rehearsals have become more frequent as the date of opening night looms closer. You and Hugh have spent so much time together outside of rehearsals, either you coming by to his place or him coming to yours. Your relationship with him has blossomed in the span of a few months, feeling much more comfortable and confident around him. The more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself catching feelings for him. You wonder if it’s because of the nature of the role you’re playing, being the love interest of his and the fact that you both have rehearsed the kiss and dances multiple times.
Though, you can’t help but notice the frequent texts and calls from him that have nothing to do with the play, or the way he lingers around you, some part of him always needing to touch you – on your lower back, between your shoulder blades, your hand. It all seems innocent enough, but with each touch, with each lingering gaze, you feel more and more attracted to the possibility that maybe the feelings are mutual.
Today, it’s only you and Hugh in rehearsals, practicing the dance in the dream sequence. You’ve both gone over the dance plenty of times today, both drenched in sweat. You take a short break, sitting down on the floor as your back rests against the wall. You take a long swig of water before Hugh takes a seat next to you, his side flush against yours.
“Hey you,” he says, smiling in your direction. “You really know how to push me,” Hugh chuckles. “And I thought I was the hardest worker. You definitely make me look like I’m not doing enough,” he teases.
You roll your eyes, gently nudging him with your shoulder. “Oh please, I’m only pushing you because you’re pushing me.”
“What do you say?” Hugh asks. “One more rehearsal and we call it a night? Grab a bite to eat at my place?”
“That sounds amazing,” you sigh in relief. “I’d have kept going if you hadn’t said anything.”
Hugh chuckles, moving an arm around your shoulders as you lean into him. “You know, you can tell me to slow down. I don’t want you to overwork yourself.”
“I know,” you reply. “I just wanna prove to you and everyone else that I’m meant to be here.”
Hugh tilts his head. “You are meant to be here. You’ve got a lot of talent,” he says your name, eyes gazing into yours. “And this is just the beginning for you.”
“Yeah, we’ll see after opening night,” you chuckle.
“Not only are you talented,” Hugh says. “But you also love being on stage. Everyone can see it, can feel it. The audience will too. Now, get off your ass and let’s finish this dance.” He smiles, standing up and reaching out for you.
You chuckle, taking his hands and standing up with his help. Your hands immediately dart out to rest on his shoulders, bodies flush against each other as your nose brushes against his.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “For always reassuring me. I’m sure it’s exhausting.”
Hugh’s eyes never leave yours as one hand moves to rest on your lower back and the other takes your hand in his. “Not exhausting at all, baby,” he replies, his breath fanning over your lips.
You clear your throat at the pet name, biting your lower lip as the music begins to play. You take a deep breath, trying to snap out of the trance that he put you in to focus on the dance sequence. Your gaze never leaves his as you both move across the dance floor. It was that specific moment where you were sure that he felt the same way.
—
After rehearsals, you drive to Hugh’s place and see him step out of his car with a box of pizza. He leads you inside and walks into the kitchen, sitting at the table. You walk over to him and sit next to him, inhaling the aroma of food once he opens the box.
“God, I feel like I can eat this whole thing,” you chuckle, taking a slice of pizza and lifting it to your lips. You’ve always felt comfortable around Hugh and you have to wonder if it’s because of him, how calm and grounded he makes you feel. You’re continuing to eat, eyes falling shut as you sway your body in the seat, just happy to be eating something.
Hugh watches you with a loving gaze, eyes scanning your face as he stares at you. He certainly didn’t expect you to come into his life the way you did. It’s no secret that he gets along with everyone and has chemistry with every leading lady in his roles, but you… You’re a completely different story. He finds your passion to perform refreshing and your talent invigorating. Not only are you professional, but he appreciates your ability to put your all into each performance, even though it’s only rehearsal. It gets him excited to know that come opening night, everyone will know just how talented you are.
He’s taken out of his thoughts when he sees you open your eyes, looking at him with a furrowed brow.
“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask.
Hugh smiles, eyes lowering to your lips as he sees pizza sauce at the corner of your lips. He also loves the fact that you’re not shy around him. He reaches up and wipes the pizza sauce from your lips with the pad of your thumb, staring into your eyes. “You’re a messy eater when you’re hungry.”
The heat in your cheeks rises once again as you set the pizza slice down to grab a napkin, wiping your mouth. “You should have fed me during our break earlier.”
Hugh chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Fair enough.” He doesn’t break the gaze, bringing the pad of his thumb to his lips and licking the pizza sauce from it. He sees your eyes dip down to his lips, hearing you quietly clear your throat as you bite your lower lip.
“You’re cute, you know that?” Hugh blurts out, head tilting as he stares into your eyes.
You roll your eyes and gently reach out to shove his shoulder. “Yeah right.”
Hugh chuckles, leaning forward in your space. “You are,” he whispers. “And there’s just something about you. I can’t put my finger on it…”
“Hmm…” you say quietly, eyes continuously darting to his lips. “Hugh…”
“Yeah, baby?” he says lowly.
“Is this–” you whisper. “Is this appropriate?”
Hugh then leans back, shrugging a shoulder. “Probably not,” he admits. “But I can’t be the only one who feels something between us…”
You look up at him, wanting to reach out for him, to pull him back closer, but you don’t. You’ve wanted him for months now, wanted this moment to happen for so long, but you couldn’t. You just didn’t know how things would change if you were both to cross that boundary… Even though you’ve both probably crossed so many lines already.
“You aren’t,” you admit. “I want this just as badly as you, but–”
“Not yet,” he finishes for you. “After the play.”
You nod. “I just don’t know what’d happen if we do this while we’re still in production… I’ve waited for a few months, another few won’t hurt, right?”
Hugh bites his lower lip and shrugs. “Might hurt me,” he teases. “I mean, we’ve kissed already as Curly and Laurey. But I’d love to just kiss you as… As me.”
“A kiss wouldn’t hurt,” you say quietly, slowly leaning into him. “But that’s all we can do.”
Hugh nods and stands up from the chair to pull you up into him. The lights from the city reflect off his large windows as his hand rests on your lower back and the other on your cheek. Slowly, he leans in and brushes the tip of his nose against yours.
“If we do this,” he whispers lowly. “There’s no going back.”
“Fine with me,” you answer. “Now kiss me already.”
Hugh grins and then presses his lips against yours, fingertips resting on the back of your neck. You’ve both kissed so many times already, but this time feels so much more different. Your lips move against his own, hands moving to grip his arms. Hugh walks you back into his window, feeling the glass press against your back as his hand moves from your lower back to your hip. Your lips part for him and he slides his tongue past your lips, hearing you whimper as a result.
The kiss deepens as tongues get involved, lips moving with more urgency against one another. You’re about to bring your leg up to hook around his hip, but you stop yourself, moving your hands to his chest and slowly pulling him away. Breathless and panting.
Hugh rests his forehead against yours, eyes remaining shut. “I’d say that was a great real first kiss,” he laughs quietly.
“Waiting for a few more months might prove to be tough,” you admit, moving your hands into his hair and tangling your fingers into his locks.
Hugh chuckles and pecks your lips softly, pulling back to look down at you. “Maybe we don’t go the full distance… yet.”
“What do you have in mind?” you ask, biting your lower lip as you stare up at him with desire filled in your orbs.
“Come on.” Hugh takes your hand and leads you to his couch, sitting down against it and pulling you down onto him. You straddle his hips, clearing your throat as you feel his manhood press against your core. You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips, leaning his head up slightly to capture your lips once more.
“This okay?” he mumbles against your lips.
“More than okay,” you answer, beginning to move your lips with his. Without hesitation, you roll your hips against his own. You’re wearing leggings and he’s wearing sweatpants and while the fabric isn’t as thick as jeans, it’s still too much clothing for you because you need to feel more. You need to feel all of him.
Hugh groans against your lips, feeling his manhood begin to stir awake at the friction. His hands slowly move upwards, underneath your shirt as his fingertips dig into the flesh of your skin. He leans up to gently bite at your lower lip, your moan escaping your lips.
You apply more pressure when your hips roll against his, his length hardening and straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. You feel a wetness pool between your legs, an anticipation settling into the pit of your stomach. You don’t know how you would wait another few months before fully feeling him inside of you since this sneak peek wasn’t helping. Instead, you’re yearning for more.
Hugh pulls away from the kiss only to place gentle kisses along your jawline, his hands continuing to move up your back, his fingertips brushing against your sports bra and back down to your lower back. The pressure in his pants tighten and he wants nothing more than to rip your leggings off your legs and slam into you, but he has to show some restraint.
You tilt your head slightly for him, exposing more of your neck as you feel his lips and his scruff brush against one of your many hot spots. You whimper, your hands gripping his shoulders.
“Hugh,” you moan quietly. When you feel his teeth graze your skin, you have to pull back to look down at him. Your chest is heaving and you’re almost breathless. “Mmm, if we don’t stop,” you whisper. “I won’t be able to control what will happen next.”
Hugh smirks, licking his lips slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Let me just…” Hugh gently sets you down next to him, readjusting himself in his sweatpants and the action doesn’t go unnoticed. You can see the obvious tent in his pants and his hand grasping himself to adjust his hardening length into a much more comfortable position. You can see the outline of his manhood, feeling your throat go dry at the sight. He’s long and thick and you have to peel your eyes away from him to avoid just settling yourself on your knees between his legs.
Hugh watches you, eyes taking in your frame from top to bottom. It doesn’t help lessen the pressure in his pants because it only just makes him harder. “I’m actually going to…” he begins, pointing down to the center of his sweatpants. “I’m gonna take care of this. Will you be okay for a bit?”
You clear your throat. The thought of being under the same roof as Hugh as he’s jerking himself off to the thought of you excites you. “Y— Yeah, I’ll be, um…” you bite your lower lip. “I’ll be here.”
Hugh nods and then leans over to kiss your cheek, lips brushing against your ear. “If I had it my way, you’d be the one helping me take care of this.”
You shiver against his words and look up at him. “And if I had it my way, I’d drop to my knees in front of you to take care of it.”
Hugh growls, the sight of you on your knees now fully ingrained in his mind. “Great,” he chuckles. “I’m gonna keep that in mind while I…” he points towards his lower half. “While I handle this.” Hugh then stands up from the couch and excuses himself to go to the bathroom, allowing you to lie down on the couch and letting out an exasperated sigh.
“It’s gonna be a long few months,” you mutter to yourself.
—
OPENING NIGHT
You feel the nerves begin to build as you’re all getting ready to perform for opening night. You and the rest of the cast and crew are all ready to perform, but you… You’re anxious. You’re nervous. You’re afraid that you’re going to mess up, so when Hugh rests a hand on your lower back, you look up at him with a tense look on your face.
“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” he whispers. “Just have fun.”
You nod, feeling his hand drop from your lower back and you reach for it, giving it a tight squeeze. “Okay,” you say. “Just have fun,” you repeat.
“Exactly. Let’s have a great show, yeah?” Hugh reassures. “And after this,” he whispers, lowering enough so that his lips hover against your ear. “We can finally go back to my place and take the next step.”
That makes you stand straighter. You had been so focused on making sure that your performance was perfect as opening night approaches that you and Hugh hadn’t had an intense, passion-filled night since the night you had your first kiss with him.
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as he pulls away with a wink. “You know just the right things to say,” you chuckle.
Hugh grins. “I knew that’d get you excited.”
You feel your nerves begin to settle as the curtain begins to rise, knowing that Hugh’s character begins the play with a song Oh, What A Beautiful Mornin’.
Throughout the play, you feel at ease once you step on stage, easily slipping into character. The back and forth banter between your character and Hugh’s are filled with a hidden and unspoken passion that you have for each other. Despite the roles you’re both playing, you can feel the tension and excitement bubbling within you as the play continues.
Just another hour and then you and Hugh can finally have the moment you both were waiting for.
Your first time on Broadway proves to be more than what you expected and you love it. Being on stage, under the bright lights, with a cast and crew that has the same excitement and passion as you makes you aware of the fact that this is truly where you’re meant to be. You couldn’t believe that you had questioned yourself at the beginning of all of this.
After the scene where Laurey fires Jud, you know what’s coming. The kiss with Curly, followed by the marriage proposal. Once your lips touch Hugh’s, it’s filled with so much passion and relief. Part of you has to wonder if it’s because the characters, Curly and Laurey, finally admitting the love they have for each other, or if it’s because the end of the play is nearing.
And it isn’t until you pull away that you see a fleeting familiarity flicker in Hugh’s eyes, a grin lining his lips. Throughout the next scenes, you’re both side by side, basked in the joy of being newlyweds and you know there’s a scene where Hugh is shirtless with suspenders. You are both backstage, getting ready for the next scene as you see him flex his arms subconsciously.
You’ve seen him shirtless before, but right now, there’s something about the sight that makes an immediate wetness pool between your legs. When Hugh looks over at you, he gives you a wink, knowing exactly that you were just checking him out.
Throughout the rest of the play, as it nears the end, you can’t help the excitement that bubbles within you. It isn’t until the end of the play that Hugh’s touch becomes more urgent, like he’s just as ready to leave with you. Each person with a pivotal role is introduced at the end as they bow towards the audience.
However, it isn’t until your name is called that the entire audience’s cheers become much louder. You walk towards the edge of the stage and bow, smiling and waving as they give you a standing ovation. You look back at your cast, back at Hugh, who all are clapping for you.
It was a perfect night and you know it’s only beginning.
—
You and Hugh join the rest of the cast for a celebratory after party, having changed into much more comfortable clothing. You’re both at other ends of the room, but while you’re each in a conversation with someone else, your gaze is locked on one another.
It isn’t a secret that you’re attracted to each other, but tonight, it’s completely obvious. Hugh’s eyes move along your frame slowly and under his gaze – even from afar – it excites you. You look at the time, knowing that it’s already so late and you’re ready to leave. With Hugh.
You make your rounds, saying goodbye to everyone until you reach Hugh. He excuses himself from the person he was speaking to and meets you halfway, eyes filled with anticipation.
“I’m heading out,” you say softly.
“Meet at my place?” Hugh asks.
You bite your lower lip and nod. “I’ll see you there.”
Hugh then reaches out for his phone and sends you a text. You pull out your phone and see a four digit number, furrowing a brow in confusion. “What’s this?”
“The code to get into my place,” Hugh confirms. “If you get there before me, feel free to let yourself in.”
You smile to yourself and then reach up to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “It was a great night, Curly.”
Hugh’s arm tightens around your frame as he shuts his eyes, whispering into your ear. “And it’s only just starting, Laurey.” He pulls back and kisses your cheek, lingering for a moment before he pulls away completely. “I’ll see you in a bit, baby.”
You leave the party and make your way to your car, anticipation simmering in your depths. You drive to Hugh’s house, knowing that you’d get there before him. So, when you enter the four digit code the gave you, you see the gates open and you drive into his driveway, the garage opening up for you.
Just a few minutes after you park, Hugh pulls in behind you. You step out of your car and look over at him, seeing him turn off the headlights once he puts his car in park. He climbs out and strides over to you, arms wrapping around your waist immediately. Without allowing you to speak, he dips down and presses his lips against yours, moving them eagerly against yours.
“Mmm,” you whimper, feeling his hand move to your backside as he gently squeezes it into his hand.
“Let’s go inside,” he mumbles, pulling back to look down at you. “I’ve been waiting for months for this,” Hugh chuckles.
You nod and take his hand, following him inside his home. You don’t get far because you lead him to his living room where you push him back onto his couch and you straddle his hips like the first night you shared your first real kiss with him.
He doesn’t waste any time in removing your shirt though, growling at the sight of you completely exposed for him, having decided on not wearing a bra. Hugh feels drunk off of you, his mind swirling with the immense thoughts and ideas of what he wants to do to you tonight. He knows he won’t get a chance to do them all in one night, but he just isn’t sure what to do first. He wants to taste you, wants to be head first between your legs. But he also wants to feel your walls wrapped around him, milking him to his own release.
But your moans… your moans pull him out of his thoughts and he’s suddenly very aware of the look on your face. The heat in your cheeks. Your parted lips. Your breaths coming in short pants. You want this just as bad as he does and it only excites him further.
“You did amazing tonight, baby,” Hugh says softly, hands coming up to brush against you.
You whimper, looking deeply into his eyes. “Thank you,” you say quietly, eyes fluttering as his thumbs brush against your peaks. “Hugh…” you moan quietly.
“I know, baby. I know… Let me take care of you.”
Throughout that night, you barely got any sleep, but when you did, you were completely spent. Hugh had helped you reach your climax more times than you can count and that had never happened before. He was so generous, so considerate, but it was only because he yearned for the sounds that escaped your lips. Loved to see you squirm against his touch, enjoyed the sight of your eyes fluttering when he finally entered you.
Hugh knew he wanted more. Needed more. He felt like a possessed man once he finally got that first taste of you. You unleashed something almost animalistic in him – the desire to see you come undone. The first time it happened that night, Hugh was in absolute awe. The way you arched your back, lips apart, body squirming against his mattress and a loud moan escaping your lips… it made Hugh want more of that. Want more of you.
And he was certainly going to get it, that he was sure of.
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman fanfiction#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x fem!reader#hugh jackman x f!reader#hugh jackman broadway#hugh jackman x you#hugh jackman oneshot#hugh jackman one shot#real person fiction#rpf#real person fanfiction#hugh jackman requests
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love mirage
✧ pair: benjicot "davos" blackwood (fancast) x freader!secret-lover-betrothed-to-a-bracken
✧ theme/warning(s): slight/implied smut, angst, forbidden romance, star-crossed lovers. — (all characters mentioned are of age!) 18+
✧ word count: 1.8k
✧ author's note: hello! this is my first writing! this one-shot was spontaneously written as it was meant more for self-indulgence but i thought why not share it to others who also has a current obsession with the rising blackwood character, right? :-) anyways, reading fics under the benji tags manifested many scenarios in my head, and gave me inspiration to write something. lastly, forgive me for any possible grammatical errors, i still am an amateur in fictional writing. enjoy!!!
It was the dead of night. The sky had been painted in its darkest hue, the moon stood nearly at its peak, offering its gentle glow along the riverbank. The distant chatter that could be heard during a long day's labor was no longer present, replaced by the solemn silence of nature's symphonies—the flowing river, the rustling of leaves as they danced in breaths of wind, and the lullabies of insects as they clicked and buzzed.
The forest was no stranger to you; befriending the woodland for the passing moons. You often wondered if anyone would, or had, grown an inkling of your periodic disappearance following the hours of supper—what others would think of your father’s only daughter growing a rather sudden interest beyond the walls of your family's stronghold. You always made your way out stealthily, though his words echoed in your mind,
“You are our only hope, daughter. Do not fail us.” A stark reminder of your duty, which would soon bring honor to your family's name.
If it means anything, you knew it was wrong from the start. You had never intended anything as such to happen. For the name of a nobleman was bound to yours, yet your lips would chant whispers of another.
Time became irrelevant right before you met him on this cool summer night. There the young man stood, one hand steady on the hilt of his dagger, ever vigilant should danger lurk in the tranquil embrace of the silent woods; his tense body relaxing upon the sight of your cloaked figure before him—a beacon of familiarity. You had planned to tell him about your betrothal tonight.
Although it was not much longer that you would find yourself a whimpering mess under the Blackwood boy. Your sighs mingled with the saccharine words Benjicot spoke, adding harmonies of moans and gasps of pleasure in the serenity of the haven you both made. You often feared getting caught but Benji assured you in these remote lands, he doubted anyone would be near enough to witness anything— not even the treacherous act you both selfishly indulged in. You still pray to the Gods that they grant you both the favor that no eye spies this clandestine meeting; and the many before.
You never really questioned yourself on why you couldn't confide in your father about your betrothal; had you already envisioned the conversation—mayhem would ensue. It was simple, it was the decision he made—securing your family's position through a marriage pact, a political alliance they called it. Duty, you thought yet again.
You didn't know what, or whom, to shift the blame on—or maybe it was the complexities of guilt. your guilt. You knew the inevitable, yet your selfishness, your greed, your immature desire for love; tainting your rationale. Or that maybe you should feel resentment that your father and the Lord of Stone Hedge, Humfrey Bracken regarded their relationship as close as to being kin. Maybe then you would have the strength to ignore your obligations, this once.
You cursed yourself for thinking the way you did, and you cursed the Gods for the decades-old rivarly between the ancient houses—a hatred and feud born long before either of you were born; beyond your father's time, and his father's before him, yet its roots grew, multiplying the petty divide among those that followed after them.
It made you question what started the war between the two in the first place, as sin begets sin begets sin; however, unwavering was the tryst between you and Benjicot—untouched by the strife and grudges.
He knew. You were aware of his knowledge with the woven webs you had with the Brackens; about your father's bond with the red stallion lord. Your thoughts do not come to a plausible explanation as they endlessly spun in your mind.
And all it took was Benjicot's hips to lower into yours, silencing these whirling thoughts.
Your cloak drapes over you, offering its warmth from the breaths of wind, coming from the riverbank. It spared the watchful eyes of the forest spirits from your unneeded bareness. At your side, Benjicot lays as he adjusts his breeches.
“There’s a war soon to come,” he says as he stares at the sky, hands behind his head, ”And I ought for you to know that given the growing wars, you have not left my mind since.” he nervously confessed.
You hum in response, the weight of his words settling heavily in the quiet of the forest. "I fear what lies ahead, Ben" you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur, filled with both longing and apprehension.
He turns to you then, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that spoke of unspoken promises and uncertainties. "No matter what comes, my love for you will endure." he vows, his fingers gently tracing the contour of your cheek.
You turn your head and sit up, feeling around for your discarded garments to dress.
"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, sitting up, his expression betraying confusion at your abrupt reaction.
"No, it's not that." you breathed out, your back faced to him. It was this very moment you had feared since the first: the inevitable.
"Well, did you not finish as I had?" he ventured in jest, a playful side of him that you loved. "Or is it because I professed my love for you?", hoping his declaration had not caused you to pull away. "Trust me, I will make sure there's nothing—"
"My betrothal..." you did not let him finish, "it's to Aeron Bracken." you said, still facing away from him as you rose from the ground. You picked on your fingers picked in nervousness of his next response. The weight of your confession hung heavy in the air.
At first he thought he had not heard you clearly, as if the world had gotten awfully quiet. It was when you repeated once more, realizing his ears did not fail him as his blood got hot—of you saying the name whom ignited an unexplainable fury in him.
"Aeron Bracken," Benjicot repeated in disbelief of your sudden confession, "The Bracken twat, eh?" — the very same Bracken he encountered in fresh conflict, near the mill's boundary stones. Although he did not show it, the tension in the air was strong enough to burn and linger its flames; his knuckles turning pale as he clenched his fists at his side.
"A craven false king follower... is bound to your name, to you." he chuckles incredulously.
He paced in the clearing, his footsteps heavy as he turned to you. "And what are you to do about it?" He posed the question, pain plain upon his face, though hope bled through the mask of his composure. Deep down, he already knew the answer. He could scare tell if asking you such question was to self-inflict torment, or just a desperate need to face the harsh reality of your confession— not a difference between the two really.
You finally turned to meet his gaze, "It's my father's decision," you explained softly. "I... I cannot defy it." You stood before him, as your tears glisten in the faint light. Torn between love and duty.
"Ben," you pleaded, your voice shaking. "You know the stakes. It’s my duty. My family's honor—”
"Fuck honor!" he interrupted, his voice thundering through the forest. He strides towards you, "It was long gone the very moment we first met—" he huffed out. He knew in his heart that despite the love he developed towards you, the tangled web of your kinship with the Brackens would soon unravel the bond you shared— still, he gambled with the odds, just as you had.
He had ever hoped that the old Gods would bestow the blessing of his fervent wishes—that it would be you, not some other maiden, whom he would take to wife. He often dreamed of you bearing the heirs of his house, growing gray together, and watch as your blood flow through the veins that would carry on his legacy. Yet, it was only ever a distant dream.
You reached out to him, to calm the storm raging within him, but he jerked away. "Tell me, then," he challenged, stepping closer with fire in his eyes. "Where do your loyalties lie, beyond this," he motioned between the two of you. "Are you suggesting that your father, and even yourself, are to declare for the usurper cunt of a King?" he whisper-yells to you. “Or is this some sort of arrangement with those Bracken fucks, to get back at us Blackwoods, simply just using me as a pawn, 'cus you know I'm now Lord?" His words spitting at you like venom;
“Oh, you know where my loyalties lie," you spat, your voice filled with heartache, "But I won't stand for you questioning my integrity nor my family's honor to secure a future." You glared at him as your heart stung with hurt, "And to accuse me... I would not dare to commit something so heinous even if i could; I'm not cruel, Benji."
Benjicot's jaw clenched, shaking his head as he stood facing the river, incomprehensible words muttered under his breath.
"I never asked for this," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes. "But I have responsibilities. We both do." you sniffled, swallowing the tension of your throat away, "And I know you know..." you wiped your tears, "we know... that this was bound to occur, sooner or later, Ben." your voice was barely audible, even with the deafening silence the forest came to be. "There's a war coming."
The silence hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken words and the weight of impossible choices.
Benjicot stood before you, his expression torn between love and anguish. His hands trembled as he gathered his scattered belongings, his movements reflecting the turmoil in his heart. You mirrored his actions, silently picking the remnants of what you felt is to be your last fleeting moment of happiness.
"I swear it," he finally spoke, "would that we were not bound by the enmity between our folks, I would have already vowed myself to you. Long before your father would have you promised to another."
His words pierced your heart with longing and regret, the bitter truth of your circumstances hanging between you like a veil of sorrow. “And I would have gladly accepted it,” you replied with a heavy sigh. "—my Lord."
The Blackwood male nodded, his gaze fixed on yours, filled with a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. With a heavy heart, you both silently acknowledged the futility of your love.
Benjicot turned away first. The distance between you both grew; and his silhouette became one with the dark forest.
You knew that somewhere, amidst the pain and heartache, you would find a way to carry on—a life of uncertainty but fraught with duty. As you walked away from the happiness and love that the forest had given you, the ache in your chest spoke of a love that was lost but will never be forgotten. It would be a bittersweet reminder of what once was, and what could never be again.
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