#i would also like to thank my passion for historical dress

[babblingeccentric]

Your Grace

I wrote most of this in a haze of divinely inspired lust after @quinloki posted the first few chapters of Dragon's Clause. I let it sit for a little bit and then realized it would make a great gift. So I polished it up and posted it.

Happy Birthday Quin! I made you pornography.

CONTAINS: Sabo x Reader, Reader with breasts and a vagina, power play, titles, rough tit play, fingering, mild bondage, pet names "angel" and "darling"

Sabo is as polite and gentle as ever as he leads you to a wooden chair in the middle of the room. He holds your arm as you bend to arrange your skirts and waits until you’re comfortable before taking out his handkerchief, handing it to you, and then undoing his cravat. He takes one of your small hands in his black gloved one and rests it on the arm of the chair. And then he ties it there with his cravat, tight and immovable. He told you he would do it, and yet it still makes your heart jump.

Sabo takes the hankie from your hand and does the same to the other hand. Smiling, he looks up at you.

“Okay?”

“Ah- fine” you answer.

“No shooting pains?” 

You shake your head.

“No? Can you wiggle your fingers for me?”

You oblige and Sabo leans back on his heels after you move each of your fingers, “Perfect!”

Something in his face changes then as he kneels between your legs. He starts to look like the maddened duke of court rumors, shadows limning his face and scar stark and horrifying. You could believe he cares not a whit for anything but his own amusements.

You freeze as his long fingered hands stroke your sides, square palms sweeping over your bosom to arrive at the top of the line of buttons running down your front. He watches you for a moment, long gloved fingers resting in the hollow of your throat. Your heart beats no slower, but you relax your shoulders and breathe again. 

Sabo smiles and then turns his focus to his fingers. He undoes the cloth covered button at your throat. You feel his warm breath on the skin of your neck. He doesn't take off his gloves.

Each tiny button is a great effort for him to undo with covered fingers. There is a silver buttonhook on the bureau that he used to button up your bodice this morning. You don’t mention it to him. It would feel wrong. It’s not your prerogative to tear the heavy blanket of silence over the two of you. Sabo never does anything he doesn’t intend to.

Somehow, instead of being silly or awkward, his head bent close to you and his gloved hands patiently struggling to undo your bodice create a hushed anticipation. You're barely breathing as you silently watch him work his way down your chest, each button feeling like a step closer to the sun. 

The only sound is your breaths.

Finally, as he watches you from under his lashes, he undoes the last button. 

Like unwrapping a delicate piece of crystal he pulls aside your bodice to reveal your heaving chest pushed upwards by your corset and uncovered by the low neck of your shift. You don’t know when you started panting. 

You feel much too hot to be so undressed.

Sabo caresses the swell of your cleavage with the smooth leather of his gloves, fanning the heat somewhere in your breastbone.

“Sabo…” You whimper, and he looks up at you, eyebrow arched in reprove.

“Angel…” he says danger in his voice

“Your Grace.” You hastily correct yourself

“Yes?” He answers archly

You stutter, not expecting to get this far.

“Nothing to say? You should think before you speak.”

He pushes the collar of your shift off your shoulders and carefully scoops your breasts out of the cups of your corset. 

The sudden cool air of the bedroom on your nipples makes you shudder, and Sabo smiles self satisfiedly at it. 

Gently he swipes his leather clad thumbs over your nipples, watching your expression like a predator.

Your lips part gently in the surprise of him finally touching you, but your carefully cultivated control of your face keeps anything else from leaking through. The air is thick and muggy with tension.

Sabo loves a challenge though, and presses his lips to the mounds of your chest leaving soft chaste kisses as his thumbs begin to circle your nipples. Your hands clench at the arms of the chair they are tied to, and your thighs press together under your skirts. The tension is excruciating. 

You arch your back trying to press yourself into Sabo’s hands and mouth and he smiles against your skin.

“Do you want something, angel?” He asks

Your breath catches in your throat. 

“I- ah.” words stumble in your mouth. “I would like more, please, Your Grace” You manage.

“Very polite.” He says smilingly. “I shouldn’t deny such a sweetly made request, should I?” 

You shake your head rapidly. It’s insane, Sabo has barely touched you, just a few caresses of your breasts and you feel like you’re losing your mind to want. You almost suspect sorcery.

Achingly slowly his mouth envelops your nipple, and then he sucks. It sends a frisson of heat zipping through your spine. His mouth is warm and wet and soft and he looks up at you as he does it. Even with your arms tied down it’s his gaze that really makes you feel pinned. He’s watching you like a hunting cat, studying your expression with intimidating intensity as he caresses you. You shut your eyes.

One of his gloved hands moves from your side to cup the neglected breast. He pinches and rolls the nipple gently in his fingers and it pulls a high breathy sound from your throat.

You feel him grin at that and he makes a path of wet open mouthed kisses across your chest to your other nipple. 

He repeats this switch several times until your nipples are puffy and your chest wet with saliva. You are squirming in your seat, some hot hollow in your stomach driving you to crave.

“More, please! Sabo, harder!” slips from your lips and everything freezes.

He pulls off your tit with a pop.

“Sabo?” He says.

You rush to correct your mistake, “Your Grace! I’m sorry, Your Grace. Please, Your Grace.”

He pauses, deciding your fate. You feel like the sword of Damocles, suspended by the thinnest thread. 

Finally, Sabo returns to your breasts. This time rougher, digging his teeth into your areola and tugging on your nipples, sending rushes of pain and pleasure through you.

You moan, low and long into the air, the punishment more a reward. 

Your face flushes from the lewd noise you make and Sabo grins smugly up at you.

“Aw, who knew my darling could moan like a whore just from a little tit touching.” He says meanly.

Your breath catches in a sob.

“I wonder…” He muses airily. “If I could make you come from this alone?”

You wail. You’re already desperate for something to touch your cunt, the idea of him spending ages just slowly playing with your breasts as you lose more and more of your mind until you’re a wailing paragon of unsatisfied lust is absolutely torturous. 

“No! No, Sa- Your Grace! I can’t. I can’t! Please…” You beg.

He relents a little at your frenzied begging. That may be a little much for a first time, after all. And you do beg splendidly for someone who’s never done this sort of thing before. He’ll be lenient. 

“Alright, alright,” he yields, “Perhaps another time.” 

Your breathing slows and Sabo continues to play with your nipples as he watches your face. You’re flushed and sweaty with glazed eyes and parted lips, the very picture of debauchery. It really is incredible he’s managed to elicit this just with a little tit play and tying your hands.

“Now, what do you need, Angel?” He asks

“I need you to touch me, Your Grace!” And before he can smugly say he’s already touching you, you add “Under my skirts! Please, Your Grace, make me cum.” 

And really, how can he deny that? Sabo thinks. You even have the beginning of tears in your eyes.

“As you wish.” He says and bends his blond head to your breast as one black gloved hand slips under your skirts.

The feel of the smooth leather makes you moan as he swipes his fingers through your slit. Removing his hand Sabo marvels at the gathered wetness.

“Oh, Wow, angel.” He says awed as he spreads his fingers making the clear slick form dripping strings. “You really did need this.”

You can’t look at him, embarrassed by your desire. And then he pops his gloved and glossy fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean with an appreciative hum. 

You squeal and jerk your bound hands in an attempt to cover your face at the humiliation of watching him do that.

He laughs at you and presses a chaste kiss to your jaw. “I’ll save eating you for another time, darling.” 

“The rumors are true! You really are a man eating ogre.” You gibe thoughtlessly.

Sabo cackles at that, shoulders shaking as he laughs harder than you’ve ever seen him. 

Finally he calms down and returns to press soft kisses against your face. 

“I did say I would make you cum, didn’t I?” He says as he pulls away.

You nod eagerly, wiggling in the chair he has you tied to.

“I hate to break my promises.” Sabo says as he presses a wet kiss to your parted lips, his gloved hands returning to your breasts and the apex of your thighs.

He strokes your cunt gently as his fingers tug cruelly at your nipples, his hot mouth pressing biting kisses to your breasts. The flame in the pit of your stomach is roaring.

His fingers circle your clit as he torments your chest, a smooth counterpoint to the frissions of pain he creates. It’s divine and he propels you rapidly along to your finish. You’re dripping onto your petticoats now you’re so wet.

You’re panting and bucking against his hands now, too preoccupied by pleasure to be embarrassed at the soft wet sounds coming from his mouth and your pussy. 

“Come on, angel. Can you come for me? I know you can.” You realize he’s cooing at you between kisses. You’re so, so close. 

All it takes is one more harsh tug at your breast and you’re coming, cunt fluttering against Sabo’s hand. He gentles you through it, holding you until the spasms stop. He unties your hands, and pulls you on unsteady legs into his arms as he takes your seat.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

As a history and Mythological lover, I love your works, they are so addictive, and you write so well, and the Minotaur konig fic was such a pleasure to read. I remember when you first uploaded the Roman konig story and I was so ecstatic about it, I remember checking on my break at work, If you’d uploaded another part haha, I mean I still check tumblr on my breaks to see who had uploaded so I know what I can read after I get home lol.

I think you’ve found your niche!

Also if you don’t mind answering what other time periods you’d think konig would fit in? Victorian era?

Nasty, oily and covered in coal, konig is walking home through the streets and bumped into a clean wealthy beautiful young woman, ooh do I love forbidden romances, just like your nun fic lol.

Ahh thank you! Mythology, fairytales and historical au’s are a passion of mine 😭

And puh-leeze, a forbidden romance between a dirty worker and a rich uptown girl? Filthy coal miner König who bumps into this fancy lady dressed in white? How can he ever make up for his clumsiness?? Please don’t have him beaten like the poor bastard he is, he already fucked up today by accidentally destroying boss’s new machinery by showing off his strength...

Tries to steal a peek at her ankles, and under her dress while dusting off her skirts with some napkin that’s hardly much cleaner than his hands. And she’s just giggling at him – great, now he’s hard... How is he going to explain this when he rises from here?? (Rich lady also being protected at all costs from dirty dogs like him! He's soon panting at her door!)

As for other historical au’s and fairytales... >:)

CW: Fear of SA (historical au), wife stealing (yandere fairytale imagine)

Obviously I see König as this dark knight of the Teutonic Order, punishing pagans with his sword somewhere in the wild woods of old Europe. How about another forbidden romance between a cold-hearted crusader & a cute pagan girl who lives in the woods and worships the old gods?

She gets captured during some awful raid, and is pulled into the camp by her hair, angry tears streaming down her face. The soldiers tie her to a thick wooden cross and leave her in the rain, probably to have their way with her later, taking turns with her after they've gambled and had a drink. Then this dark, giant knight happens to walk by, not a regular foot soldier but an actual knight with armor as black as night. She remembers him from the battlefield, wielding a fat morningstar, splitting people’s skulls from atop the huge black destrier he rode...

A terrible beast, dark and silent and big, the rain batters his helmet as he takes one look at the shivering maiden on the cross, her white linen dress glued to her skin in the downpour, and stops.

The soldiers have a crude sense of humour and what’s arousing, but he has seen worse… The knights of the Holy Order are even more perverted when it comes to having “fun” with women. But something pierces his defense when seeing the frightened stare of this pagan girl, her weak body trembling on the cross, the wide dark nipples perked up from cold. He’s seen so much death, his soul is drenched in blood by this point, but somehow, this woman who hasn’t even been broken in is the last straw.

Ends up taking her down, and she attaches herself to him like he’s her saviour, even the cold black armor apparently warmer to her skin than the cold rain. The cruelest of knights feels a moment of pity for this girl and sets her free, pushes her to the woods and waves his hand in a gesture of Get the hell out of here while you still can. (=gtfo before I get hard enough to take you in the mud...)

Months later, she finds him bleeding to death under a tree after a battle. All the other soldiers are screaming and crying for their mothers, but this one is silent, eyes darkening when he recognizes her. He says something, already delusional, and she can’t help but kneel and offer him water…

(and from this point on it would go somewhere in @wordstome s Kosovo maiden territory, perhaps slightly darker? But you get the point!)

And then there’s this old Inuit story that always reminds me of König, it has many variations but it’s basically about this lonely hunter who gets a little too resentful for not having a wife yet. Goes to paddle his boat in these moonlit waters and sees a bunch of maidens dancing in the moonlight on a small little island, notices their seal skins on the ground, and because he’s lonely and in despair, he steals one of them.

One by one, the maidens put their seal skins on and rush back into the water, but one woman can’t find her seal skin no matter how hard she looks for it. The hunter emerges, holding her beautiful skin, saying he’ll give it back to her if she comes to live as his wife for 7 years. She has no other choice but to say yes, and for a while they live happily, they even have a son, but then the seal woman starts to miss her seal skin and the sea...

It’s a tragic tale and the hunter won’t let her leave even if she cries so this would make a wonderful yandere scenario, you could always make a twist and write the woman as some other animal, a deer perhaps, and König as this lonely brooding hunter of the Austrian mountains :)

[captainmera]

Hello! I've just gotten caught up with both your TOH fics and IBWR and let me just say, your writing is fantastic! I have a million things I want to ask you, but if you haven't already answered this one, it's what I'm most curious about; How do you do your research on things like puritan culture? Like what sort of questions do you search for to get the information you need about historical costumes and culture? Thanks a million and I can't wait for the next updates to all three!! (metaphorically speaking ofc take all the time you need)

Hello! Thank you for reading! :D/ I welcome questions like these!

Oh! Let me break this up:

COSTUMES:

Find passionate people who hyperfocus on the era you want to dive into. There are a ton of reenactors and seam-enthusiasts on instagram & youtube who do historical sewing, and all of them usually have one era/decade that they spend most time in. They are extremely enthusiastic about both showing their progress of making the costumes, what makes them accurate to history, as well as displaying the garments by happily twirling around in them.

So costumes? Find the nerds. They'll tell you all about how men's shoes went from silk ribbons to buckles.

These people are the best researchers. Not all of them have degrees or have a history background. But they read, live and breathe these things more than any degree could give them. Some of them even learn languages just to read a book about wigs, buttons, and gloves.

Following the nerds will get you to the points much faster than reading the books yourself. They'll pluck out the important details and, very enthusiastically, teach you about the important bits. It'll also stick much better if someone is excited to teach you something.

CULTURE:

Same thing here, really. Find the nerds. But instead of just looking at fashion, look at things like: Food, music, lower social classes, local entertainment, pub songs, drinks, jokes and humour, pets, baby names, folklore, superstitions, agriculture, architecture, interior decor, furniture, sleeping routines, etc.

Ask seemingly mundane but important questions, such as: Where do they shit? What did a dentist do? What's a quack? And are there famous quacks? How did they deal with crime? What was punishments? Did kids go to school? When was it acceptable to get married? What was socially taboo?

Things like that.

I like to start with asking myself: What is relevant for me to know, in regards to my story?

Because you are telling a story, not an essay on the era you're having as your backdrop. You don't have to include every single accurate thing. It's okay to be off on some details in favour of telling your story (in my opinion). You're not a historian.

With that being said, if something like crime and punishment is important to your story, you should look that up. If you feel that the way people dressed, and the social morals and taboos, might be something that adds both world-building, and would let a reader fall into the era more.. You should look into that too!

Culture adds flavour to the setting. It allows both you and the reader to see the invisible stakes. For example: The puritans were very gendered. So it impacts how men and women interact with one another. It can invite both humour, conflict and pearl-clutching. Because if you understand that it would be, say, unacceptable for a man to press his lips upon the skin of a woman's hand, and you can both tell and show this to the reader; when such a thing occurs, the reader will LE-GASP.

Youtube is also a good space to go to.

Write down names of important figures of the time. Musicians, politicians, criminals, philosophers, inventors, women, plays, etcetera.

Something that influenced the culture was also what people were currently discussing and discovering. What was invented at the time? What were the philosophies and poetry written? Who were the prominent speakers of the time?

Like how we, today, are talking about how "social media is bad and ruining the children!" What did people talk about back then? People have always yelled "But what about the children?!" What were the social fears and terrors? These things influences the culture.

MY OWN NOTES:

I would say that no source is a bad source, one thing will lead to another. Don't just look for videos/documents/books about the puritans! Look at the era as a whole, even the time just before the one you are looking in at.

Context is everything. What happened in 1635 is a result of the previous culture's just 10-50years before. Don't dismiss the little things.

You never know when; a curator explaining why a led-cup was an important to medicinal practices at the time; might be of use to you! (note: Drinking over-night wine from a lethal cup in small doses made you shit a river and vomit. This was believed to be all the bad in your body leaving you, and even out the levels of various liquids in the body. Like pee, sweat, blood, and mucus. That's why blood-letting was a practice, too, to even your levels.)

TAKE NOTES.

Like, listen to a documentary and have a piece of paper nearby that you can scribble down something important you heard.

Documentaries can be a bit of a drag to sit through just to find ONE piece of good information. But hey, as long as you get something useful right?

That's the short summary of it. Hope that helps!

[ladymonterosa]

The thin line between love and hate

First part: "Astrid"

26 september 2022

I have never considered myself a morning person. Ever since I was a child, mornings were always a nightmare. I remember my uncle had to gently shake me to wake me up for school, and I often ended up having breakfast in a rush, still half-asleep. Now that I was in college, nothing had changed.

My light brown hair fell in messy waves over my shoulders as I tossed and turned in bed, hoping the alarm hadn't already gone off. Every morning, the piercing sound of the alarm was torture, an annoying call I tried to ignore as much as possible. But that morning, I couldn't afford to ignore it. It was the first day of classes at God U, and I had promised myself to start off on the right foot.

With a groan, I reached for my phone. The bright display blinded me for a moment as my eyes adjusted to the light. When I finally focused on the time, my heart leapt into my throat: 7:45. I was late. Again.

I knew I had only fifteen minutes before class started, and the thought of showing up late on my first day at the School of Crime Fighting made my stomach knot. I cursed my love for sleep and my inability to wake up on time.

With a speed I didn't know I possessed, I got out of bed, shaking off doubts and tiredness with a sigh. I had to move. I dressed quickly, throwing on a simple T-shirt and jeans that I had left on the chair the night before. It wasn't a particularly polished outfit, but at least it was clean. I glanced in the mirror for a second, noticing my still sleepy blue eyes and hair that could definitely benefit from a brush.

There was no time for details. Grabbing an apple on the go, I dashed out of my apartment, almost forgetting my bag. The campus streets were already bustling with students hurrying to their respective classes, some with the same sleepy look I knew I had too. Godolkin University was huge, with historic buildings mingling with modern structures. The School of Crime Fighting was not far from my dorm, surrounded by trees.

As I ran toward the building, a rebellious strand of hair kept falling into my eyes, forcing me to push it back every few steps. But the thought of entering the classroom out of breath and red-faced from the run made me feel even worse. Maybe, I told myself, I should have listened to my uncle when he suggested setting multiple alarms. But it was too late for regrets. Now I just had to run and hope not to make a terrible first impression.

*＊✿❀ ❀✿＊*

Jordan Li's charisma is undeniable. With a confident voice and the way she moved naturally among the rows of seats, it was hard not to be impressed. Jordan began the lesson by discussing the challenges and responsibilities that our course of study entailed. Her passion for the subject was evident, and I found myself taking notes with an enthusiasm I had never felt before.

She described complex crime scenarios, the psychology behind criminals, and the importance of teamwork in solving cases. As she spoke, it seemed like I could see everything more clearly, as if she had turned on a light in a dark room of my mind.

During the lesson, she also asked questions, actively involving us in the discussion. I jotted down everything frantically, worried I wouldn't be able to keep up with the vast amount of information. At one point, I swear her gaze rested on me for a moment... was it just a coincidence or not?

*＊✿❀ ❀✿＊*

When the lesson ended, I felt exhausted but satisfied. Jordan thanked us for our attention and wished us a good day. I got up from my seat, still a bit dazed by the amount of information received. As I left the auditorium, I realized that my heart was pounding very hard, and I'm still not quite sure why.

*＊✿❀ ❀✿＊*

After the lesson ended, I walked towards the park, where I knew I would find my best friends. The campus was bathed in a golden light, and the cool morning air was giving way to a warm and bright day. Despite the rush that morning, I felt strangely serene.

As soon as I saw them, my mood improved even more. Jemma and Rose were my lifeline in this stormy sea.

We sat on a blanket under the shade of a large tree, the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds creating a relaxing atmosphere. As we sipped our smoothies, Jemma began to enthusiastically talk about her improv class, describing how the professor had them work on particularly intense role-playing exercises. Rose laughed, recalling an embarrassing moment when a classmate had completely forgotten his lines.

I couldn't help but smile listening to them, but my mind kept drifting back to Jordan Li and that morning's lesson. I couldn't stop thinking about her.

Jemma immediately noticed I was distracted. "Astrid, you're unusually quiet today. Everything okay?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

Her words made me blush. "Yes, everything's fine," I replied hastily, but my voice wavered slightly. "It's just that... my day didn't start off well. I didn't hear my alarm and was late for the first class."

Rose laughed. "Classic you, Astrid. But you made it on time, right?"

I nodded, trying not to seem too nervous. "How was your first class? Did you meet the famous Professor Brinkerhoff?"

"Not exactly," I replied, trying to keep my voice calm. "He didn't show up. His assistant was there instead."

My voice wavered slightly, and I realized how awkward I was sounding. Jemma looked at me with curious eyes. "Oh, an assistant, huh? And what was she like?"

I felt my heart speed up. "She was... interesting. Very engaging."

Jemma burst out laughing. "Interesting? Engaging? Sounds like you've got a crush, Astrid!"

I felt my face grow even redder. Rose, who had been silent until then, joined the conversation. "What's this mysterious assistant's name?" she asked, curious.

As soon as I mentioned Jordan Li's name, Jemma lit up like a light bulb. "Wait a minute," she said, pulling out her phone and starting to type frantically on Instagram. "Jordan Li... I knew I'd heard that name before."

Jemma quickly scrolled through Instagram, while Rose and I leaned in curiously. After a few moments, she found the profile and showed it to me and Rose. Looking at the posts, it didn't take long to realize one of Jordan's skills: the ability to transform gender.

"Here it is," Jemma said, pointing to a photo of Jordan with a guy in a university setting. "They're friends with André Anderson, Polarity's son," she explained. "A friend of my father's."

Polarity was a name I knew well. He's a famous B-list hero who starred in a well-known '90s sci-fi movie called Area 51. Now, Polarity is on the school board of God U. His son, André Anderson, was known in the Supe community for rather unflattering reasons... like frequent use of alcohol and drugs or his reputation as a serial womanizer.

"And look here," Jemma added, scrolling to the university's website. "They are part of the Top Ten most promising students at Godolkin University!"

I looked at her photo in the ranking with a mix of admiration and trepidation. It's clear that she is not only intelligent and capable but also very popular (as anyone who makes it to the Top Ten). It's official, I have no chance with her. All my hopes were dashed before they even began.

"I can't believe you have a crush on her," Rose said, giggling. "But hey, I don't blame you. She seems really amazing."

Jemma smiled. "Well, Astrid, it looks like you've found another reason to wake up early and not miss any more classes."

I laughed along with them, feeling a bit lighter.

Rose, however, interrupted my momentary euphoria with a question that caught me off guard. "By the way, how are things with Michael? Is it really over with him?"

The mention of Michael wiped away any trace of enthusiasm from my mind. I felt suddenly empty. "I don't even know," I replied, my voice tinged with sadness. "It's all so confusing."

My friends looked at me with understanding. Michael and I have a complicated relationship, full of ups and downs. I didn't know if we still had a future together or if it was better to leave it all behind.

"I'm sorry, Astrid," Rose said, placing a hand on my arm. "If you need to talk, we're here for you."

I nodded, grateful for their support. Despite the confusion I felt about Michael, I knew I had friends I could count on. And maybe, over time, I would figure out what I really wanted. For now, I had to focus on myself and the new chapter that was beginning at Godolkin University.

1° part ; 2° part ;

[acrossthewavesoftime]

I have a few, is it alright if I list them all?

1. What's your favourite book?

2. What's your main passion in life?

3. What's your favourite historic place you've been to and where would you like to go?

4. Who is someone you like to meet? ( From the past or present)

5. If you could change the outcome to any historical event, what would it be and what would you change about it?

6. Do you like vintage fashion?

(Forgive the last one, it's quite random, it's just given you're a history person, I just wondered if you did.)

Wow, now that is a long ask! But I will give my best: :)

I am terrible at making decisions, and there are so many books, both fiction and non-fiction, that I feel had an impact on me. As a child, I always wanted to be able to read people from the book pages into reality like Meggie from the Inkheart series, and wanted to become like her feisty great-aunt Elinor when I am older. I cannot use the magic of my voice to coax characters from book pages, but I am firmly working on becoming like Elinor. The book series is a long love letter to the magic of reading, and that never quite left me.

Sniffing around in the private lives of dead people, so to speak. ;)

Again, I am terrible at choosing things, but Het Loo Palace was an astonishing place to visit, because many of their original baroque artworks and furnitures are in an unusually amazing condition that gives you a genuine impression of what these rooms could have looked like in the time they were created.

I am not big on meeting anybody presently famous, really, so I would like to go with someone from the past. There are of course a few people on my list that I would be interested in, but I am not picky. Everyone has a story to tell, and sometimes, the best ones are not immediately obvious.

I think I would stop John Graves Simcoe (1752-1806) from travelling to Portugal on a military appointment. He died because his severe asthma and generally having lived beyond his physical abilities exhausted his body. He left nine children and a wife behind whose lives were greatly impacted by his death. There are also descriptions he gives of his asthma attacks that are gut-wrenching. He was a person who, within the framework of his worldview, tried to do good, and could have continued to do so a little longer, surrounded by his children and the love of his life, who until her death in 1850 had never really come to terms with his loss.

Absolutely! I try to avoid buying brand new clothes and jewellery where I can. Just today, I had very lovely help mending one of my favourite vintage dresses! Jewellery aside (some pieces of which are much, much older), the oldest wearable pieces of clothing I own are a 1920s shift that belonged to my great-grandmother and a 1920s-30s lace collar.

Thanks for the ask!

[ofliterarynature]

AUGUST 2023 WRAP UP

[ loved liked okay no thanks DNF (reread) bookclub*]

Witch Week | A Perilous Undertaking | 2 AM At the Cat's Pajamas | The Last Sun | The Lives of Christopher Chant | The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo* | (The Angel of the Crows) | The Enchanted April | The Art of Prophecy | A Curious Beginning | Q's Legacy | The Grimoire of Grave Fates | Charmed Life | Ocean's Echo | (Band Sinister) | (Unfit to Print) | Camp Damascus | Wanted, A Gentleman | Translation State | The Mistress of Bhatia House

I’m late I’m late I’m late! Oops

It’s only a month late, right? ‘Only’ lol, work has been exhausting! Anyways:

At this point I wonder if Ann Leckie can ever do wrong, Translation State was good! I was completely enthralled, which is all I ask, even if I don’t get as passionate about it as the main trilogy.

I continued the KJ Charles reading, with these supposed stand alones that are also kind of related? Honestly it’s no less of a stretch than Society of Gentlemen to Lilywhite Boys, so I don’t know why she can’t officially list them together. Anyways, mostly fine, and Band Sinister is still a delight!

Camp Damascus…I’m thrilled for Chuck, really, and I think he’s a delight to follow, but this one wasn’t for me. Religious trauma is turning out to be a hard no.

Ocean’s Echo was good! In some ways I definitely thought it was better than Winter’s Orbit - miscommunication is the worst I’m sorry, this story was more consistently engaging! I just like the characters from WO a bit more.

Chrestomanci! I’ve been going by the suggested reading order on Goodreads, and while I wasn’t particularly enthused by Charmed Life, once I had a grasp on the world the other books have been fun! Im very sad this might be my last DWJ, as I seem to have exhausted my library’s collection of her audiobooks :(

Grimoire of Grave Fates had a really interesting premise that lured me in, despite my reservations - an anthology where all the stories work together to solve the mystery of a murder at a magic boarding school? I thought it worked fairly well (and could definitely spin itself out into a series of novels), but just ok for me. Maybe one day I’ll finally concede I can’t read YA or boarding school books anymore.

Q’s Legacy was the last (I think) of the 84 Charing Cross Road books, and honestly the worst. It had its interesting moments, but it lacked the cohesion of the other two, speed,-running the before and during of those stories, to then spend the second half on the adaptations. It was not at all what the descriptions led me to expect. Maybe worth a single read but not a revisit.

I will also be honest, I didn’t really like the first Veronica Speedwell! The plot felt a bit contrived, and Veronica was so blunt as to almost read as rude or mean. Also very unexpectedly…clinically horny? Does that make sense? I’m not quite sure what prompted me to continue, but I’m now several books in and enjoying it! To be blunt myself, the historic setting is just set dressing, the plots can feel contrived, the mysteries are mediocre, but the real draw is the Veronica and Stoker show once they get themselves settled in and comfortable with each other. It’s a hoot.

I’d heard good things about The Art of Prophecy, but I still didn’t know quite what to expect going in. It was wonderful. Maybe a little long, but if you’re looking for a fantastic fantasy with lots of fight sequences, no romance, and some fascinating characters, this is a great read. The sequel comes out soon and I can only hope it doesn’t take as long for my library to get the audiobook as it did for this one.

I don’t know where I first found An Enchanted April, but it’s been on my TBR for a little bit, and I thought it would be the perfect fit for my classics challenge I gave myself this year! It wasn’t what I expected at all - it’s entirely character driven and very focused on their flaws, and the entire first half I thought I was going to hate it. But the second half, there’s a twist, almost, born of some very  naïve optimism that nonetheless works out. Very improbably, but I was happy for them, you funky little weirdos. 

What can I say about The Angel of the Crows except that it is still very good! It’s maybe lost a little of the shine it held when I got obsessed with it for a few months last year, but it is definitely now one of my comfort books. I really ought to read more canon Holmes though lol.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo was, to be fair, one of my suggestions for book club. It was OK, but there were definitely parts that really did not work for me, the frame narrative in particular. The other members of the club really liked it but I don’t have any plans to read more of the authors work.

I’m almost tempted to put The Last Sun last just so I can yell more. I’d heard such good things about this series, but turns out my expectations were a bit skewed - it is not historical or secondary fantasy world, oops. So we got off to a bit of a rough start, not to mention all of the Capital Words. Not usually a good sign. And while I still wouldn’t say I love the worldbuilding necessarily, or that these are the next great work of fantasy, the action is really great, and the characters are flipping fantastic. You’ve got a pair of 30 year olds who are bad ass fighters, have a traumatic past, are immature assholes, can be so so kind, and accidentally adopt a posse of troubled teenagers? Sign me up, I love them, this reminds me so much of my days reading tons of Teen Wolf fanfic AUs.

My history with 2 AM At the Cat's Pajamas is that they cannot stop recommending this thing on the Book Riot podcasts. When I found a copy at Goodwill, I thought surely it’s meant to be! Well. It was not bad, but it was not great. I don’t know. It just wasn’t for me and I will not be keeping my copy. I probably should have DNF’d it, but I continued in hope.

Only one actual DNF this month though, The Mistress of Bhatia House - the newest Perveen Mistri book. I was actually fairly excited for it despite my reservations about the earlier books, but I hit a mental roadblock with this one. There was some contrived feeling tension with her sister-in-law, but really, I realized that one of my main problems with this series is that, despite being in a very precarious social position, Perveen is just incredibly reckless - usually in the name of doing good! - but it just hit all the wrong nerves at the moment. I’m hoping there will be a better time to read this, but not right now. 

[the-lunar-library]

TO THE RAVENS

Creative, cosmopolitan, and idealistic, Kokkonas is something of an antagonist – at least to our heroine Akantha. Though she styles herself a philosopher and an artist, Kokkonas travels as a musician alongside the prophet Alexandros, and her profession places her outside the boundaries of respectable society. But that doesn't bother her. In fact she revels in challenging the narrow, misogynistic views of Rome.

She started out a simple enough character in my mind, a shallowly mean antagonist. But one thing I love about the character-building process is how they start to surprise you, and Kokkonas insisted on becoming more complex than I'd first given her credit for.

Kokkonas is a fun character. In some ways, she's admirable – she's intelligent, voraciously self-educated, and believes passionately in the value of women, even when she comes across as a laughable fanatic to others. But she's also petty, self-absorbed, and way too caught up in Alexandros for someone who sees herself as prioritizing women and their needs. She's a character whom you can't early on label as “correct” or “incorrect” and then read through her lines and actions accordingly. Sometimes she's right. Sometimes she's wrong. You have to think about her. Both Akantha and Alexandros often laugh her off, but I hope that while the reader enjoys her in her more catty, antagonistic moments, they still take her seriously.

She has some historical basis, being based on two characters from Lucian's essay “Alexander the False Prophet”. The first is Cocconas, “a Byzantine writer of choral songs” who traveled around and entered music competitions for his livelihood. Along with being a man (sorry, Kokkonas), he was Alexander's partner in huckstering; Lucian actually says that of the two, Cocconas was the worse. The second character is an unnamed woman whom Alexander and Cocconas befriended and who also traveled with them. She was from Pella where, so Lucian claimed, they bred large beautiful snakes as household pets. Thus we have Kokkonas the wandering chorale master with her pet snake Harmony, whom she probably loves more than her own life.

The most obvious departure from reality is her gender. For my novel, I wanted Cocconas to be part of the story, but I felt like having two men, two false wonder-workers (“two consummate rascals”, thank you, Lucian) would take some focus away from Alexandros. I also wanted there to be lots of female characters, and I thought it would be fun to have a rival to Akantha who's also in on Alexandros' secrets. But she's not just a rival. As I said before when writing about Akantha's development, researching the reality of women's lives during this time enriched the book so much. Kokkonas survives in the same misogynistic constraints as Akantha, but she's defied them, at least partially, and gone out of her way to learn about heroic women of the past. She deeply admires figures like Aspasia, Cleopatra VII, Berenice II, and Sappho, and through her we get a glimpse of women who were able to attain some respect and stature. And while Kokkonas is mostly fictitious, it's important to remember that there were women who pursued greater independence, certainly women who dreamed of having more political and social power than the mainstream allowed. Does that mean they were good people in every respect? No. And you are indeed supposed to criticize Kokkonas and even make fun of her at times. But she's definitely not always wrong.

As for her design, most women of the time would dress pretty plainly, in subdued colors. I wanted Kokkonas to have an archaic, theatrical flair. She's the sort of person who would combine whatever aesthetics tickled her fancy, so she has references to ancient Egypt, Scythia, and the Minoans. Unlike Akantha, she wears her hair long and loose, and her makeup is much flashier. Her jewelry isn't expensive, but it's colorful, eye-catching, and she wears it lavishly. She projects an air of great worldliness and confidence. She strikes Akantha at their first meeting as sphinxlike.

We don't learn much about her past in the novel, and even my ideas there are vague. I suspect her origins were fairly conventional, but at a young age, she broke free from convention and she's just kept going.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

I want to start by saying I LOVE your fanfic and the amount of lore you’ve built around everything, it’s just such an interesting world to experience and you’ve done an amazing job building it. Genuinely in my top three fanfics I’ve read across any fandoms I’ve been in!

IMPORTANT NOTE:

This discusses educational discussion of women’s undergarments in the context of fashion history, just in case you aren’t comfortable with it!

In chapter 29 I noticed one line that bugged me a little, so apologies for the LONG explanation here about corsets— if you already know about their actual history and not the hollywood misrepresentation of them feel free to ignore this, I just thought this could help in the future with the ball chapter especially!

““Ha,” she grinned, pulling herself upwards before she turned back to the star. “You think this is outlandish? You should see what some ladies are capable of doing while wearing a corset!”

“A corset?” he repeated.

“Yeah, it’s like a cosmetic thing that came straight outta hell, because no one down there wanted it, so now we on earth have to deal with it. “”

To start- corsets as a whole shouldn’t be demonized as much as they are in popular media since they were quite literally just the old version of bra’s— just like how there are uncomfortable ones and comfortable ones today, there were back then. I’m less here about historical accuracy but realism, because working class women wore corsets daily and they were an essential part of the everyday clothing they wore!

More accurately in this time period it would be called ‘a pair of bodies’ (later on shortened to bodice) and should have been comfortable unless poorly made and tailored. An uncomfortable corset means one of two things, it was poorly tailored like I mentioned before or the corset has been tight laced. Tight lacing only became popular in the early 1800’s and would be the beginning of corset demonization. Doctors would claim organs were being moved and fertility was being damaged (‘studies’ have been made but also debunked) hence the quickly descending popularity of them and the invention of the bra!

To put it into perspective, modern day translation would go like this:

“Ha,” she grinned, pulling herself upwards before she turned back to the star. “You think this is outlandish? You should see what some ladies are capable of doing while wearing a bra!”

(Which by the way, that’s so real, I hate mine so much)

I feel like it’s completely in character for your Asha to have a gripe with corsets, which is why I wasn’t sure if this wasn’t an intentional choice or not. Asha definitely seems like the type to strictly wear working corsets and avoid tight lacing ones like the plague.

Quick personal suggestion, since I noticed asha’s victory dress being very-ballgown like, It’s likely she’d opt for a corset of her own design similar to an Edwardian corset, which created an hourglass design not by cinching in the waist to extremes but adding volume at the hips (hip pads) instead. Ideally, an everyday corset should feel like a tight hug, not a torture machine.

Fun fact: It wasn’t uncommon for men to wear corsets as well! They were good for hiding ‘beer bellies’.

If you prefer visual learning, here’s a really engaging video that goes over the basic myths: https://youtu.be/LWYG5sQp0-E?si=LugoryF2eR_Dja83

Highly encourage you to look further into it because fashion history is so interesting and deeply reflects the political standings of each era.

Tldr: Just like modern bra’s have restricting pushup bras and comfy grandma bra’s corsets had comfy ones and tight lace ones. Asha likely would be wearing a corset too :D

It’s just a personal thing I’m very passionate about, and although im not a fashion historian I hope I gave you a general idea of what corsets are actually like if you didn’t know already 🙏

Seriously looking forward to the future chapters, this fic is a literal piece of art <3

First of all- thank you! I appreciate it!

Also, I did not know that much about corsets, (nor did I know that men actually wore them to hide 'beer bellies' that's too funny) so this was a learning experience to me! I never knew that they were actually comfortable- ((I'll be sure to look into it more!))

Admittedly, I do fine the fashion aspect to be a bit challenging because it's trying to balance the whole- medieval time period fashion vs the star fashion that you see in Asha's victory dress- along with some other things, but I will definitely go back and edit that line in chapter 29 when finished!

[maryjanewagner]

A procrastinatory Update

It's 5am and I should be studying statistics. I have this exam on Monday (tomorrow actually...) and I started studying for it two days ago. Well, this time it is really just about passing. Though I am realising by studying that it's actually not that hard and that if I just started a week earlier this exam would have been the easiest thing ever.

What can I do now? ... Writing this is helping ease my anxiety.

Afterward, I’ll sleep, and when I wake up, I’ll tackle all the practice tasks until 7:30pm. Then, I’ll get ready for a special event at the theatre:

The Gala at the theatre

Tomorrow marks our final day before the summer break and the last performance under our current director, who is also as an actor. After 15 years, he will retire from his role as director, leaving a legacy that has made him a well-known, but controversial, figure in our city. His successor will be his wife, a lovely woman who, in many ways, reminds me of myself. I believe she feels a similar kinship. However, it deeply troubles me that she tolerates her husband's blatant infidelities. She deserves far better, and I am disappointed by her acceptance of such treatment.. She is about 55, childless and is a workaholic. It will be an honour to be working for her, hence I am also so excited to be part of this historic moment tomorrow. Nonetheless, the future of our theater looks challenging. We are a private establishment and receive minimal financial support from the city or government, leaving our continued existence uncertain.

Anyway, without sounding arrogant, I already know that I will be the best dressed tomorrow. I always manage to impress, just like at the Christmas party last year where I felt incredibly overdressed. This time, there's no such thing as overdressing. The mayor of the city will be attending, along with many local and even some nationally renowned figures. I am looking forward, but I should also not forget that studying is still what I should focus on today. On another note:

I did not get the job as a research assistant

I tried hard not to get my hopes up, but I still ended up extremely disappointed. Being a student research assistant is my dream. I would love to be part of a current research project. Being an official, even paid, part of academia would be the best thing for my ego. It would open doors to meet other researchers and finally make me feel part of an academic community—something I've always longed for.

Recently, I realized that working with researchers seems to be my only way of being part of such a community right now. Establishing a friend circle with people my age who are informed, passionate, and not just pretentious seems impossible, considering I don't even have one friend like this. I’m not saying such people don’t exist, but the ones I meet who are my age are either uninterested or, if they are interested, they’re very arrogant and unapproachable.

My only friend who is passionate about and successful in academia, yet not arrogant, is 15 years older than me. Meeting him is a blessing I still cannot comprehend, and I am endlessly thankful every day for our friendship. But it’s a rare kind of friendship, and I can't expect other researchers to befriend me like this. In the end, where and how?

So, as I realized, the only way to get close to them is by working for them. Since no one at the institutes where I study is looking for a student assistant, I recently had this unconventional idea of emailing some professors or researchers to see if I could help them—just for the experience, without even getting paid. It feels a bit awkward, but in the end, what do I have to lose? That being said I want to end on a hopeful note:

the café of the arthouse cinema

is where I did get a job. The team seems young, and supportive of each other. I will recieve tips and I will be able to watch the movies for free. Also, with that job I will be an integral part of two very important cultural institutions of this city. What else could I wish for?

[skitskatdacat63]

In true tradition, here are my thoughts on my drawings, because it was in fact: 7 AM

Okay so Fernando I is, as stated, super ostentatious. Why? Because it fits him but also because it's based on the real life guy. In all the paintings I could find of Philip V, in most of them he is wearing at least some kind of armor, and if not, is dressed pretty dramatically imo. And I will not be drawing a full set of armor, but it felt a bit weird to leave it our entirely so. Also historically I do think it's so interesting he was portrayed this way, since he was described as someone who was "only interested in outward decorum and brave only in battle."(again: how fernando coded hahaha)

See! Super dramatic! Also I made this meme that is only comprehensible to me

Seriously, why is he pointing in half of his paintings???? I couldn't find a concrete answer so I will give my personal analysis 😤 I like to think that it's symbolism for how he's always moving forward, like "here's will I go will go next!" ....or the artists just couldn't figure out what to do with his hands, I feel the struggle.

Oh also important to note!! His heels!! I am obsessed with this fashion detail from the time:

Nandopoleon is super important to me, it's why @sweatyflytrap and I became friends in the first place 🥺🥺🥺 so it felt very surreal to draw him because I've been thinking about him for a while. I want to make an actual web weave with quotes lined up with Fernando's career, or stuff comparing their personalities. Or draw him recreating one of the iconic paintings(probably the one with Napeoleon crowning himself emperor, I think it's fitting.) But to draw him in that classic pose, im very happy :)

And as I said already, Hussars are very fun to draw because it is such a general AU. The joy of it is more about figuring out how to incorporate the details of the real life racesuits to the uniform. If I didn't only primarily love to draw Fernando and Seb, i would be like "request a driver for the Hussar AU!" But I don't know how well that would go 😭

Anyways end of post. I think the reason why I've been feeling a lot more creatively driven and passionate is because it's a lot easier to draw so much when you know other people will be interested/want to discuss it with you! I used to have a friend that I would talk a lot about my OCs with, and guess what, back then I drew a lot more of them than I do now. It's not that I need outside validation to draw, I draw plenty for myself, but more that it makes me feel more happy about it, because I know that I'll get to talk about it with other people and see other people's thoughts, rather than just me being the sole participant. As you guys know, I like to talk. A lot. So it's very nice for it not all to be in my head(I am crazy) 😭😭 So thank you to everyone for your continued interest <3 you sustain me 🥺🥺

[misssakuramochi]

Hi!! Could I please request a romantic matchup with a male character from One Piece?

My pronouns are she/her and I’m heterosexual. My zodiac sign is Taurus and I’m an INFP! I have pretty dark brown hair and I have brown eyes.I also have freckles across my cheeks.

I’m definitely a more introverted person, I’m very shy when I’m talking to people I don’t know, and I tend to avoid conversation as much as possible. However, if I get to know someone, I can be very talkative and cheery! I’m a very creative person and have a big imagination! I can also be very stubborn, and I don’t really like to admit that I’m wrong. 

I have a lot of hobbies, and I really enjoy trying out new things! I have a passion for baking, and I try to bake something new at least once a month! I also enjoy figure skating, and I’ve recently learned how to play the harp! Some other various hobbies of mine include calligraphy, digital art and quilting. I absolutely love going antique shopping! It’s a really fun past time, and I definitely like looking through decorations and utilities from the past. I collect records, old comics, pins, and paper dolls, so those are all things I like! I have a very strong dislike for bugs and I also hate seafood.

Thank you!! I hope this is good!

I match you with...

MIKAWK

○ Mihawk needs an introvert who understands his need for time spent alone to think and recharge. You would likely benefit (imo) from someone who understands your reservation and need to warm up slowly. Though to everyone else it seems like the slowest of slow burn romances, the two of you get to come out of your shells at your own paces in a natural way.

○ As you warm up and become more talkative, Mihawk becomes a bit surprised with your wild imagination (wild in his eyes, anyway, seeing as he is the much less imaginative of the two of you.) That bring said, he adores hearing you go on about your ideas. You do most of the talking, but he's more than happy to listen over tea

○ Both of you are quieter people, it seems. Quiet nights in over parties, museums Ober clubs - you get the idea. Your idea of a good date lines up well, which keeps things fresh and romance alive

○ Outwardly, the two of you are opposites - uptrend cheerful and bright, he's brooding and dark; you're a jack of all trades, he's a master of one; you get the idea. Inwardly though, you're similar enough to understand one another and where the other comes from when they approach things differently. Together, your differences and similarities together make you unstoppable

HEADCANONS

○ Mihawk has not just a hobby room, but a whole wing dedicated to your interests added to his castle. Sewing room, art room, collection room - the only thing not in the castle is a skating rink and that's only because it's outside. You even have your own bedroom in the wing. Like, you share the master bedroom, but for nights you're too exhausted to make it after a long night crafting, or too socially worn out to even want to spend time with him, its there.

○ With your cheery nature and Mihawks... uh. Well you know him being himself, you become known as the sun and the moon.

○ You sound like something of an old soul, and I feel like you and Mihawk end up dressing like a historical vampire-esque manner. You don't really wear couples clothes exactly, but you do match quite perfectly

○ Learning swordplay is an absolute must for you. Even if you were somewhat proficient before, there is much for you to learn from the greatest swordsman in the world. He won't say it, but he does this because he worries for you - the waters you live in are dangerous, after all. In turn though, Mihawk can be convinced to pick up one of your hobbies if you play your cards right. Turns out he's quite a handy seamstress.

[swampcreature]

Tag Game To Better Know You

Thank you for the tag @lady--lisa!!

Tagging @owl-mug @teagrammy @william-jennings-bryan and anyone else who wants to do it.

What book are you currently reading?

I haven’t done a lot of reading for enjoyment recently nor have I really thought about picking up a book soon. Maybe once finals are over I'll get something.

What’s your favourite movie you saw in theatres this year?

I didn't see a whole lot of movies in the theaters this year, and the ones I did I didn't really like, but I liked the Baz Luhrmann Elvis movie the most out of them.

What do you usually wear?

I dress really casually. Right now, it's usually sweats, or a sweater or a cardigan and t-shirt, and jeans. I like fun multicolored socks and shoes. High school me used to dress like Vriska when we got no-uniform days though and I'm glad I graduated out of that.

How tall are you?

On the tall end of average height.

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

Scorpio. I share a birthday with Bob Ross and the Great Depression.

Do you go by your name or a nick-name?

IRL I go by my full first name, but online I use a nickname.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

No. I think she'd like the path I chose though, even if she would be a little disappointed in the fact that I don't really do the thing she found passion in anymore. I'm still in university though, I have time to make it up to her.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

No, and honestly I kinda prefer being single.

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

I have a fairly decent memory and am good at remembering deadlines and stupid trivia. Even things I thought I forgot (usually I just end up making some association and going oh yeah that's just like blah blah blah.)

I cannot wrap a present for the life of me. I can never manage to get the paper to fold right or the tape to look neat. Slap it in a bag, put some nice tissue paper in there, and call it a day.

Dogs or cats?

I like them both but I prefer dogs cuz that's what I grew up with.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

Ughhhh I haven't finished anything in a while but i'm kinda proud of this line. I'm malding though cuz I have to scrap it cuz the scene flows better from the other character's pov.

"However, Andrew has always been inclined towards sin, so despite everything, it is natural that he gravitates towards a being as sinful as Antonio. Perhaps they’re cut from the same sinful cloth, both demons seeking a soothing hand, an honest tongue, and a kind heart. If his damnation comprises of an eternity playing games, drinking, and spending time with Antonio in this manor, then Andrew doesn’t think he minds at all.

"How cruel it is, that God allows him to meet someone who understands him so fully and uniquely, and still deny him the privilege of making him his soulmate."

What’s something you would like to create content for?

Identity V fandom doesn't have nearly enough femslash fic. The sapphics are starving.

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Ride the Cyclone. Fantastic musical, fantastic characters, Jane Doe is my sweet daughter and deserves the world. Also recently taken an interest in Ada Lovelace, 19th-20th century classical music, and Ace Attorney.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

This last semester of university. It's just been so incredibly draining. I'll be going abroad next semester though so should be some more excitement.

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

I can do pretty good accents (if I listen to someone with that accent for long enough.) When I was younger I used to be able to do a good Russian accent cuz I watched so much hetalia and now I can do a decent Clone High JFK voice.

Are you religious?    

No but I consider myself spiritual.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

A spa day. Especially a pedicure.

[otherworldyliterature006]

Looking for roleplay/writing partners!

Hello!

I am currently looking for a couple ropleplay/writing partners (21+). I have been roleplaying for years now and would love to pick it up again. I would like to write with people who also like to word build and are passionate about creating our own universe! I'm looking to write stories in a historical or present-day setting with elements of fantasy. I like incorporating dark and adult themes into my stories and there are only a few things I won't write about, so bring on all your ideas! I do add smut in my roleplays and I'm comfortable doing all pairings! I would just request that the parings between the main characters be either MXF or FXF.

I'm including a sample of my writing below, I'm looking to write with someone who has a similar style. This is a starter for one of my favorite stories that I got ghosted on. If you're interested in writing this story please let me know and I'll give you more details!

Writing Sample:

Chapter 1: The Meeting

The wood creaking as Aakuti stepped out off of the ship did little to ease her worries. Four days ago, Aakuti learned that she would be marrying Prince Kiaan of Qaizezar and now she was about to meet him for the first time. Aakuti always thought that she would marry someone she fell in love with. That's how marriage always happened in all the fantasy books she read growing up. However, Aakuti was a princess in real life, not one in some fantasy book. Princesses in real life had duties to uphold. Duties such as marrying a stranger prince to comply with a trade agreement between kings. She wondered if Prince Kiaan had any choice in the matter or if the choice was made for him as well. 

Now here she was in foreign kingdom about to commit to spending her life with a man she had never met before. Her father had made it very clear that he would get rid of her if she did anything to make the agreement fall through, and that was the only thought reverberating through her mind since the moment she boarded the ship. 

"Princess, maybe you shouldn't hide behind me while meeting your future husband and in-laws," Shivani turned her head slightly to look at Aakuti. Shivani was Aakuti's personal gaurd and best friend, and if Shivani wasn't here right now, Aakuti wasn't sure if she would have been able to even get off the ship. 

"You're right," Aakuti responded and stepped forward so that she would be walking alongside Shivani instead of behind her. Behind the pair were at least a 100 servants bearing the many exotic gifts Aakuti's father was giving the Kingdom of Qaizezar as dowry. Aakuti held on to Shivani's wrist as she started to make out figures on the otherside of the dock. Her heart was racing, what if Prince Kiaan didn't like what he sees? What if he refused her? Aakuti swallowed before letting out a breath. She was dressed in pale blue silk gown, with long, tapered sleeves and a straight neckline. The gown was trimmed in gold which glimmered in the sunlight, just like her gold jewelry. Women were required to be modest in her kingdom, and while the the gown was demure, it did not hide her figure from peeking through.Her hair had a few strands pinned on the sides while the rest of her black, wavy, hair rolled down past her shoulders to right below her chest.   

As they walked closer Aakuti's grip on Shivani's wrist tightened and there were an incredible amount of butterflies in her stomach. Her eyes traveled over the group of people gathered at the end of the dock, trying to get a glimpse of Prince Kiaan.

~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading and please DM me if you're interested!

[an-absolute-travesty]

Cowboys are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other

Ahhhh it’s here!

After the wifi peacing out for like 12 hours, I thought I’d never get this posted lol. But’s it’s here at last.

It’s posted to AO3 and Wattpad (I know, I know) so if you prefer to read over there, its the same title. 

This is... kinda a keefitz cowboy au? It’s like a cowboy/country/farmer/historical au. 

It’s inspired by that one tumblr post that’s like “it weren’t the whiskey he were tryin to savor” or something like that

Tags: @cadence-talle @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @catboyruy @percabetn @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42 @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @sofia-not-sophie @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e @thisbluewind @we-have-no-bananas-today @we-wont-dissapear @jadenightthewriter @ketterdamkid

And, a special tag to @cowboypossume for being very passionate about this. Idk if you can dedicate a fic to someone, but I would dedicate this to him lol.

And big thank you to @lesbianalliepressman for being the bestest beta in the whole wide world

TWs: Period-accurate homophobia, use of the q-word, swearing, underage (but not at the time) drinking, just 1880′s Kansas in general, very OOC Alden

Word count: 7,170

Keefe was walking through the hell more commonly known as Kansas.

The sun beat on his neck, thin shirt soaked with sweat, rocks digging into his bare feet.

If it was his choice, he would’ve been wearing shoes. Of course, it wasn’t, and his boots had been stolen about 12 miles east by some assholes calling themselves bandits.

If it was his choice, he also would’ve been riding a horse, but she had been stolen along with his shoes. And his spare clothes. And his water skin. 

In the simplest of terms, Keefe was having a shitty, shitty day.

Luckily, just there, tiny in the horizon, there looked to be a homestead.

With renewed energy, Keefe waked faster. Then jogged. Then ran.

Eventually, with huffing breath, he reached the house.

It was… big. Whoever lived here was rich. The kind of rich that bought you a couple dozen acres of farmland, a pond, another dozen horses, and a house that really looked like it should’ve been a summer estate for the queen of England. 

And standing right behind the gate, was the “whoever” that owned it.

“What’re you doin’ here, boy?”

The man was tall, but not in a particularly intimidating way. Really, it read more like a giraffe with a southern accent pretending to be a lion. 

He was also vaguely familiar. There was a good chance Keefe ran into him some time in the last eight years he’d spent on the road. His accent wasn’t Kansas, really. It was more Georgia. Keefe had never been to Georgia, but this man seemed polished and rich enough that he might’ve done some travelling. 

“Just passin’ through, sir. Could use a rest for a night, if you got a spare barn-” they did have a spare barn, they had 5 barns, hard not to have a spare, “I’m a good worker, sir. Good with horses, too. Just need a good night of sleep before I reach the next town.”

“Well, just your luck, son. There’s a town about 3 miles thataway. Could reach it by sundown if you get started now.” 

“Sir, I really-”

“Alden!” yelled a woman, barrelling towards them faster than a train, “What in the world are you doin’?”

The woman, despite the fact that she was running at them faster than an Olympian, was much more majestic than the man at the gate. Her already dark skin was tanned in a way that anyone could tell she had spent her fair share of time outside, and her (clearly expensive, if simple and practical) dress trailed in the wind behind her like a flag in the wind.

“Della, darlin’, there’s no need-”

“Now, who do we have here?” she asked as she came to a stop, entirely ignoring the man, Alden.

“Um, my name’s Keefe, ma’am.”

“Got yourself a last name, Keefe?”

“No, ma’am, just Keefe will do.”

“Alright, then, Just Keefe. You go on and tell me how you got yourself in this neck of the woods while you walk up to the house with me.”

“Della,” protested Alden, “I really don’t think-”

“None of that nonsense, Alden. Boy’s clearly had a rough day. I expect we’ll hear all about it here, if you’ll just listen.”

And, oh boy, did Keefe tell.

He did his best to keep expletives out of the conversation, although it was hard. Awful as it was, he had to make himself look as pitiful and helpless to these folks as possible. It was always the same song and dance when trying to get help from people. It was easier when he was thirteen than at eighteen, but apparently he still had the charm. (Plus, a lot of material to work with.) Because after he was finished, Della said,

“Oh, you poor boy.”

And Alden was scowling with the anger of a hundred suns, although that look was erased when Della looked back at him.

“Won’t you come up to the house and eat lunch with us. In fact, I believe we’ll likely have some boots and clothes to spare for ya’. After that, you can rest up in the barn.”

“That’s too kind of you, Mrs…?”

“Vacker. Mrs. Vacker. But Della’ll do just fine, bein’ formal ain’t necessary.” 

Vacker. Yes, that was it. Alden Vacker was one of his dad’s old drinking buddies, one of his politician friends. Of course, the man didn’t recognize Keefe. Likely, he’d last seen Keefe at age eight, fetching him another whiskey.

“Of course. Thank ya’ kindly, Della, ma’am.” 

Della seemed satisfied.

Alden seemed silently enraged, like he was worried Keefe would find a way to steal all his horses and his family in the time it took him to blink.

~*~

It only took a few minutes of sitting awkwardly at the table, waiting for the Vacker kids to come inside for lunch, for Alden to use the worst opener Keefe could imagine.

“So, Keefe, you look awful familiar. Who’re your kin?”

“Oh, they ain’t no one, really.”

“Hm. Well, where’re ya’ from?”

“S’pose a bit of everywhere. Born in New York, but I ain’t been there for so long, I don’t even rightly remember what the city looks like, sir.” 

A lie. It had been eight years, but it takes much longer to forget your only home. Hell, even the damn accent he’d been putting on for the last who-knows-how-many months was fake. But, it was so much easier to pretend to have been rural for all your life than explain your father was a rich asshole trying to make the politics of the far-north just the same as the far-south.

“Aw, well, that’s a right shame. Always liked the city. Used to go there for conventions n’ such. Nice break from all the fields. Got a few friends up there.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. Let’s see, the Sencens were always nice, oh, and Quinlin, of course. Lord, I ain’t seen him in so long. Wonder how the old boy’s doin’ nowadays…”

He seemed lost in thought, and Keefe was hesitant to interrupt that. 

Quinlin… yes. Quinlin. He also drank with Cassius, from time to time, although more than likely, he was just there to be with Alden. Keefe recalled many whispers he wasn’t meant to overhear from those days from his father to his mother.

“Gisela, I’m telling you. Those men are too close, I’m not inviting them again.”

“Oh, hush, will you? They’ve got political footholds. And money. It’ll do us more good than harm to have them on our side.”

The door slammed open with a crash as the sound of bickering immediately filled the room. 

“Bi, you can’t do that while I’m breakin’ a horse!”

“You’ve been tryin’ to break that horse five damn months, now! If ya’ can’t ride him by now, we oughta just let the poor thing go or send him on a train to the glue factory, and I can ride my mare in whichever field I please.” 

“Biana,” Della chided, “language. We have a guest, if you hadn't noticed.” 

“Oh,” she said, “hello. Anyway, what’s for lunch, Mama?”

The boy shook his head, apparently exasperated by his sister’s antics, and approached Keefe with a hand out. 

“Sorry, I’m sure I smell like horse shi-” - he looked at his mother, who was eyeing him already - “excrement. But, uh, I’m Fitz.”

He smiled, this excellent bright smile offset by his tanned skin. His portrait should’ve been put in the dictionary under the definition “ladykiller”. (Followed immediately by an addendum stating that he was also a Keefe-killer.)

Keefe cleared his throat.

“My friends call me Keefe,” he said as he met the handshake, a little flushed.

That was a lie. He didn’t have friends. His brain simply sputtered out and died, incapable of coming up with anything more clever.

“I s’pose we gotta be friends, then, considerin’ I don’t have anything else to call ya’.”

“S’pose so.” 

He tried to do his best “I’m-not-flustered-I’m-totally-sauve” smirk, but he suspected it came off as more of a “doing-my-best-not-to-puke” grimace. 

“Well,” Della broke in, “go get cleaned up for lunch. I’m not tryin’ to have two shit-smellin’ kids sittin’ at my table.”

“Oh-ho, I see, so you can swear-”

“Biana?”

“Yes’m. Cleanin’ up now.” 

~*~

It was after lunch, and after a lot of not realizing he was staring at Fitz until Fitz caught him looking, that he got his new set of clothes.

“Fitz, dearie, lead Keefe up to Alvar’s room and let him pick out whatever’ll fit him.”

“... are you sure, Ma?”

“Course. What’s Alvar gonna do with ‘em?”

“Alrighty, then.”

He was led through their labyrinth of a mansion (three rooms, a hallway, a stairwell, two more hallways, another stairwell, another hallway) to a door. 

“Here’ll be Alvar’s room. You heard Ma, pick out whatever’ll fit. He ain’t got a use for ‘em no more. He was a few inches taller than you, but it should do just fine.”

“I, uh, I’m sorry for your loss?”

“Hm? Oh, no, he ain’t dead. Not that we know of, at least. He just ran away. He got sucked into, uh… I suppose the nice way to call it would be overly traditional beliefs. Some religious something. The sort that tracks down whoever they don’t like and yell and cry that they need the Lord, and if they don’t comply, the next thing they know is their house is bein’ burned up and their horses n’ cows are set loose all over. If the bastard ain’t dead, he’s dead to me. Raid the room, if you wanna.” 

“Ah, well in that case, very, very happy for your loss.” 

This made Fitz crack another one of those brilliant, blinding, knock-your-socks-off smiles.

Staying in this house was gonna kill Keefe.

~*~

He came out of that room with a fresh shirt, a pair of trousers (that he had to cuff more time than he’d like to admit), and his pockets heavier with a few trinkets. 

Nothing big, nothing that looked too awfully sentimental, just whatever he thought might be able to fetch a pretty penny or two for a meal when his stay at the Vacker’s house inevitably ran thin.

And, based on that look on Alden’s face as he entered the sitting room, he suspected his stay wouldn’t last too much longer. 

“Keefe, son, come outside with me. I’ll show ya’ around.”

Keefe did not want to come outside with him. It was likely the last thing Keefe ever wanted to do. He really found it very tempting to run out the back door and book it three miles over to the next town.

Instead, he found himself on the porch with Alden, and before he knew it, his feet were no longer touching the ground.

In fact, he was now about six inches from the ground, being held up by his armpits. 

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“What’s your angle here, boy? I know your type, oh I know it too well. You come in here, you charm my daughter, you turn my son into a- a queer, you turn my wife against me. Admit it, you motherfucker-”

“I don’t know what the HELL you’re talking about! I’m just tryin’ to get work, goddammit!”

“Oh, sure, sure you are-”

Desperate to be free from the crazed man pinning him to a wall, Keefe used the only limbs he had free. His legs. Which just so happened to be at the perfect level.

“Ough, ohhhhh you-”

“Yeah, don’t fucking touch me. I think I’ll find my way around here well enough myself, thanks.” 

~*~

He decided to settle down (most certainly not hide) in a barn that seemed to be exclusively used for storing hay.

Rich people.

He found a bale to sit on, dump out his small pile of semi-valuables to pawn off later, and resigned himself to stay there very very quietly, ideally until the Vackers forgot he existed, and he could slip out in the night and book it to the next town. 

“Hey, Keefe? You out here anywhere?”

Well, shit. 

Frantically, he stuffed the trinkets back into his pockets.

A crack of light fell over Keefe as the barn door was slid open, revealing Fitz. 

“Ah, there ya’ are. Pap said you just walked off, Mama said we oughta keep you around ‘til at least dinner, so we had to find ya’.”

“Yes, yeah, um… I was just overwhelmed. Didn’t mean to take advantage of your kindness, or nothin’, just needed a minute.” 

“Don’t worry none about that. You up to some work? Wouldn’t hurt to have a hand in breakin’ that horse Bi was pokin’ me about. You any good?”

“‘Course. And… yeah, I’m pretty good, I’d say.”

~*~

“Keefe?”

“Hm?”

“If I recall, you said you were pretty good. How in all the nine hells are you already ridin’ that damn horse?”

It had been about two hours. The stud was certainly jumpy, jittery, and all too eager to buck, but it wasn’t anything Keefe hadn’t dealt with before.

Of course, the horse was probably nearing on 19 hands tall, so that was certainly some motivation not to fall off. 

“Horses just like me, ‘s all. It’ll take some more working to get old Grey here really ready, but I could give y’all some tips.”

“Tips? Lord, we’ve gotten tips from every damn equestrian in the state for Greyfell. They ain’t done what you’ve done in a few hours.”

“Aw, well, nothin’ much.”

Fitz shook his head and looked up like the sky would give him the answer to anything.

“C’mon, now,” Fitz said, “we should probably go on and put him up and get to workin’ on somethin’ else, don’t want Pap out here yellin’ to get back to work.”

“That man sure does seem to like yellin’,” Keefe said, dismounting.

“Mm-hmm. You ain’t seen the half of it. Although…”

“Although?” Keefe prompted.

“I, uh, I heard a bit of the commotion earlier. Not much. I didn’t want to tell Mama or nothin’, she’d get all worked up and then no one would be sleepin’ tonight through all that noise.”

“Well… I’m right sorry about that, I am.”

“Ain’t your doin’. Pap just gets… protective, I s’pose. ‘Specially after Alvar went and disappeared on us. Dunno if he cares ‘bout us, or just don’t want another family embarrassment, but he gets real suspicious ‘bout guests. First thing you know, there’s a handsome stranger called Ruy at the doorstep and next thing, the whole town’s gossipin’ about your oldest.”

“That explains it.”

“Still no excuse for him. But… I mean, hell, what can any of us do? Sorry, I don’t mean to dump all this stupid drama on ya’, just frustrated ‘s all.”

“Fathers are the worst sometimes. I can attest to that plenty well, I’ll promise ya’ that.”

“Mm. You can tell me all about it after you help weed the corn field.”

“Ugh.”

“Indeed.”

~*~

They were called up to dinner before Keefe could tell his sob story, all the better for him. 

“Alden, how was it today?” Della asked, leaning over to peck Alden on the cheek.

“Just fine, darlin’,” he said, dodging the kiss, rounding over to fill his plate.

“Hm. Any progress on that stud, Fitz?”

“Oh, boy, was there-”

And so on went the dinner conversation, all pleasant and easy as the Vackers carefully tiptoed around any discourse like a ballerina in a minefield. Alden even only glared at Keefe a couple of times, so it seemed like he was warming up.

“Fitzy,” said Della after dessert had been served and dinner was well settled, “won’t you show Keefe down to the hay barn? Pick up some blankets for him, too.”

“Yes’m,” he said, getting up and motioning Keefe to follow.

“So,” Keefe started when they were outside, “Fitzy?”

“Lord,” he said with a laugh, “tried to stop her callin’ me that years ago. It’s no use. Nineteen years old, but that don’t matter none, I’ll always be a baby to her.” 

“Mm. Mind me askin’ something awfully nosy?”

“Shoot.”

“You’re nineteen, you’re mad at your father… why ain’t you left yet?”

“I… I can’t leave Bi here. She’s plenty prickly enough to survive on her own, she’s strong like that, but she’s still seventeen. Pap ain’t exactly a suffragist. He ain’t gonna want her to leave ‘till she finds some man, or ‘till she’s old enough to do it on her own. We’re still poolin’ whatever resources we can. And then there’s…”

“Della?”

“Mm-hmm. We don’t wanna break Ma’s heart. Well, again. Ah, here’s the hay barn, you’re familiar.”

“Yep. I’ll see ya’ in the mornin’, I s’pose.”

“Wait, now, you can’t stay out here alone. There’re wolves, and- and timber wolves, and coyotes, and… well, mostly different sorts of dogs, but the point stands.”

“I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever dogs mother nature throws my way.”

“Oh, yeah? They get all up in our chicken coops, spook the horses, the farm’s crawling with ‘em at night.”

“Good thing I ain’t a chicken or a horse. What in the world would you do to help, anyway?”

“I can fight off a wolf.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then, you can sleep right outside that door, there. When I hear ya’ screamin’, I know I oughta run on up to the house.”

Fitz bristled at this with all the confidence of a man who insisted he could fight off at least twelve wolves, thank you very much. This, despite the fact he had been bucked off of Greyfell at least twice no more than eight hours previous.

“Alright, you can keep me company down here if you want, Fitzy. But I ain’t hearin’ no complaints about bein’ cold.”

“Won’t need to, ‘cause I ain’t gonna complain one bit.”

~*~

To his credit, Fitz didn’t complain. That didn’t mean he didn’t shiver with enough force to shake the entire barn and probably cause an earthquake all the way through the earth in China.

“Alright, that’s enough of that, c’mere, you’re gonna shake the house down with all that shiverin’.”

“What? I ain’t complained none.”

“Yeah, you ain’t complained, but I ain’t gonna be able to move on to the next town if it’s rubble from your shakin’.”

“Can’t help it none.”

“Naw, but if you’ll come here we’ll both be warm.”

Fitz scooted a little closer, very clearly hesitant.

“C’mon, Fitzy, I don’t bite. Less ya’ want me to.”

He huffed a little before closing the rest of the distance, turning away from Keefe, allowing him to wrap an arm around Fitz’s torso.

“See, ain’t that bad.”

“Don’t bite, you’ll be just as bad as the wolves.”

“Not without consent, Fitzy.”

“Oy vey.”

“Hehehe.”

~*~

It is generally accepted that, perhaps one of the worst ways to wake up, would be the sound of a banging door followed by an onslaught of slurs. 

This is, indeed, the exact condition Fitz and Keefe found themselves in that morning.

Of course, Alden was the perpetrator. 

“FITZROY AVERY VACKER! IN THE HOUSE! NOW!”

“WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!”

“HOUSE!”

“LORD! OKAY! OKAY!”

Fitz scrambled up, rushing out the door.

He paused, turning towards Keefe like he was thinking about staying and helping.

Keefe shook his head. 

In a fraction of a second, Keefe was being grabbed by his collar, only a few inches away from the face of a man who clearly hadn’t yet brushed his teeth.

“I’m gettin’ pretty damn tired of you bein’ at my house. Corruptin’ my boy. You’re gonna turn him to a damn queer, I know you are.”

“Well, sir, I guess it takes a queer to know a queer.”

“The hell are you insinuating, boy?”

“I was just thinkin’, sir,” Keefe said earnestly, “Don’t seem to care about your wife all that much, despite that - if I may say, sir - she’s very beautiful. You don’t have any workers on the farm, which ain’t usual for one this big. Trying to prove yourself, maybe? Make sure your son won’t follow in your… particular footsteps. Make a man outta him. And, well, Mr. Vacker we ain’t even gotten to your awfully close past relationship with one Mr. Quinlin Sonden-”

“That’s enough!” Alden said, finally letting go of Keefe’s shirt and pushing him away. 

“Dunno what the upset is about, sir. Anyway, what sort of work is there to do today?”

Alden was silent for a moment.

“Come up to breakfast, first. Thinkin’ we’ll fix up the barn today. Got some holes in it. We’ll make sure it don’t get too cold down here again.” 

“Thank you kindly, sir. That’ll be much appreciated.” 

~*~

Fitz didn’t come down to work that day, which was unsurprising. This meant the “we” in Alden’s statement was about as much of a lie as his wedding vows, and left Keefe to patch, paint, and fix the entire barn by himself.

After he was done, he was about as red as a cooked lobster and about as warm as one too. All he needed was to be slathered in butter, and he’d make a delicious meal.

Apparently, in his fixation and dedication to the barn, he’d missed lunch, because next thing he knew Fitz was coming down with a plate of dinner.

“Oh, what time is it?” Keefe asked, climbing down from his perch on the ladder.

“About seven. We, uh, tried to call you up, but you seemed awful focused.”

“Ah. Sorry about that.”

“It ain’t nothin’. C’mon in the barn. I snuck somethin’ extra, but if Ma or Pap sees it, we’ll be gettin’ an earful.” 

Once settled across from each other on their respective hay bales, Fitz pulled something out of a satchel at his side.

He took a sip from the flask before tossing it over to Keefe.

“Mm,” Keefe said after a sniff, “whiskey?”

“Bourbon, technically. Pap gets the good stuff.”

He took a swig with a grimace. He’d never gotten used to the burn of alcohol, but anything to help ignore the skin peeling up from his red neck. 

“Ah, yeah, and food. Don’t take that stuff on an empty stomach, ‘less you like seein’ the walls spin.”

He handed over the plate, the Vacker’s typical rich dinner. Meat and potatoes, veggies, bread, a full spread. 

Keefe eagerly shoved the mashed potatoes in his mouth, mumbling out what was intended to be “compliments to the chef”, although it sounded more like “compwemess do te shef”

“I’ll tell her,” Fitz said with a laugh.

There was a pause where Keefe ate, shovelling food in his mouth at a pace only teenage boys can achieve. 

Meanwhile, Fitz took occasional sips of the bourbon, mouth lingering at the lip of the flask after each.

After about three quarters of a plate’s worth of food was shoved down Keefe’s throat within about ten minutes, Fitz spoke.

“Can I uh… can I ask you a question?”

“ ‘Course.”

“Pap was… quiet, today. Said I didn’t need to work, and that was about it. What happened down here?”

“Oh, nothin’ much. I just called him on his behavior, ‘s all. He didn’t like it much.”

“I expect not. What’d you say, exactly?”

“You want the pretty version or the ugly version?” Keefe asked, staring at the ground.

“The honest version.” 

“I suspected so. Well, then… he grabbed me by my shirt, told me I was gonna turn you into, quote, ‘a queer’, and I posited that it took one to know one. I had some evidence he didn’t appreciate, I s’pose. He let me off the hook after that.” 

Fitz thought for a minute.

“Well, his reasonin’ was awful flawed.”

“Why’s that?” Keefe asked.

“Mighty hard to turn someone into something they already are.” Fitz took another swig of from the flask, tossing it to Keefe. “Don’t you agree?”

“I certainly do… Fitzroy Avery.”

“Lord, I have got to tell them to hush up,” Fitz said, shaking his head, while Keefe laughed maniacally. 

“Fitzroy, seriously? Like, alright, nickname Fitz. Full name? I’d guess Fitzgerald, Fitzwilliam, but no. No. The Vackers can’t have NORMAL names! No! We gotta have Alvar, Biana, and Fitzroy, like honestly-”

“Oh, yeah, that’s awful rich from you, Keefe-”

“Let’s not even get STARTED on AVERY-”

“And what’s your middle name, Mister Normal Name?”

“None of your damn business, that’s what-”

“I bet it’s somethin’ great. I bet it’s… Nigel! No, no, wait, I know what it is.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

“And what’s that, exactly?”

“Willard.” 

“Shut your mouth.”

“Am I right?”

“No! You ain’t right! What kinda fuckin name is Keefe Willard Sencen, like honestly-”

He was going to continue, but that’s when he realized he’d said his surname. One Fitz would almost certainly be familiar with, and far too rare to be a coincidence. 

At this point, Fitz had worked himself to a giggling frenzy, too much to reply, and hopefully too much to have noticed Keefe’s slip.

“You’re drunk off your ass, Fitzroy.”

“I am still on my ass, thank you very much. I am still using this ass, you can’t have it.”

“God almighty, give me strength.”

“Not much stronger than Pap’s supply,” Fitz said, gesturing at the flask Keefe still held.

Keefe sighed and took another swig.

“S’pose I’d be a bad friend if I let you get ruined on your own.”

“All too true.”

Resigning himself to having a pounding headache the next morning, Keefe got to work.

~*~

Long after the flask was empty and many conversations about nothing and everything were had, they figured it was probably time to settle down and sleep.

“You stayin’ down here again?” Keefe asked, most of the slur to his speech wearing off. “Big risk. Don’t wanna get yelled at again.”

“Lord, can’t go back to the house. I’d get crucified.”

“Mm. That’d be a shame. ‘S probably worth the yellin’, then.”

“Mm-hmm.”

There was a lapse, long enough that Keefe was almost sure Fitz had fallen asleep, until he talked again.

“Thank you.”

“For what? Drinkin’ your liquor and makin’ you sleep in a barn?” 

“For not… reacting. When I told you I’m queer.”

“ ‘Course, what else would I do?”

“Dunno. I was pretty damn sure I’d be alright. But, sometimes the ones that seem the kindest will surprise ya’. You didn’t, though.”

“Mm. What gave away I wouldn’t do nothin’ bad?”

“Offerin’ to bite me is pretty high on the list.” 

Keefe laughed.

“I s’pose that might’ve helped.”

There was another lapse, long enough that Keefe started to nod off, before he figured it was now or never.

“I am, too.”

“Hm?”

“I’m queer, too.”

“I figured as much.”

“The bitin’ thing?”

“That, and I can read minds.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mm-hmm… I’m uh, whatchamacallit, I’m a telescope.”

“Ya’ are?”

“Yep.”

“What am I thinkin’ about now?”

There was just enough light in the barn to see Fitz had a shit-eating grin filled with confidence only a half drunken man could achieve.

“You… are thinkin’… about… mmmmmm… ah, yes, about how I’m a telegram.”

“That’s cheatin’. And it ain’t even true. I don’t think that’s the word you're lookin’ for, neither.”

“It ain’t? I’m a… uh… teleport. Telephone.”

“Telepath.”

“Yes! That’s the one. I’m a telepass.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Naw, I’m a telefuck.”

“You’re doin’ this on purpose.”

“Well, how’d you know that? Are you a teledick, too?”

“Say, can teleshits read the future?”

“Don’t see why not.”

“Good. That way you can see that I’m about to knock you into next Tuesday.”

Fitz collapsed into drunken laughter again, and Keefe took the opportunity to crawl over and playfully punch him.

“I foresaw this!” Fitz proclaimed, “With my fourth eye!”

“Shut your trap!” 

“Never!”

“You’re a bastard.”

“And I know it!”

After a little more drunk giggling, Fitz eagerly cuddled up to Keefe.

“You’re different drunk,” Keefe said, stating the painfully obvious as if it would get him an explanation.

“S’pose. Maybe I’m just more… out.”

Within the minute, he was dead asleep. 

~*~

To Keefe’s immense surprise, he didn’t wake up to the song of slurs. Just a bell telling them breakfast was ready and Biana screeching a similar message from outside the barn.

“Pancakes! Pancakes! If y’all ain’t up at the house in five minutes, I’m eatin’ your serve!” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re comin’,” Keefe mumbled, rubbing his eyes. 

Fitz barely stirred.

“C’mon, Fitzy, up you get.”

“No… ‘s too… bright,” Fitz said, hardly intelligible.

“I’ll drag ya’ if I have to.”

“Mm.”

“Well, then. Alright.”

“Mm- Wha- Hey, hey, alright, alright, alright-”

Luckily, it had only taken dragging Fitz a few feet by his ankles before he willingly got up.

“Hey.” Biana popped her head through the cracked barn door. “I’m serious, I’ll eat the pancakes, quit your flirtin’.”

“She means it,” Fitz confirmed with the tone of a man who had more experience in the matter than he liked, and stumbled out the door.

~*~

“Keefe, son,” Alden said, “follow me out ‘ere, need your help with somethin’.”

Despite every single one of his instincts telling him to run for the hills and take his chances with whatever wolves and timber wolves and coyotes were out there, Keefe followed Alden.

The minute they were outside, standing on the porch, Alden got this awful look on his face. The sort of smile you only have after you’ve trapped a chess master and know you’re about to win, or a starving man whose lure has just worked and knows he’ll eat well that night.

“You know, Keefe, I should’ve saw it sooner. You look just like your father, you know. Spittin’ image. Can’t believe I didn’t know you were Cassius’ boy from the minute you opened your mouth. You talk with ‘bout as much confidence as he did.”

Keefe found himself too shocked to reply. It was only a matter of time, he knew that, but he thought he’d have longer than two days. 

“Now, son, I’m gonna give you two options. I’m nice like that. Now, first one, is you get off my farm by tomorrow morning. I want you away before dawn and I don’t want the kids or Della to know ‘bout it. If you ain’t gone, well, we’ll just see if you can outrun a shotgun.

Now, there’s another way. You can stay right here, and I’ll write a letter to your Pappy, and he’ll come ‘n get ya’. I’m sure he misses his son somethin’ awful. You’ve been missing for eight years, now? The triumphant return of a politician’s son, after an accident where he lost all his memory of home at age ten and just kept on walkin’. Met with warmth and wealth all the way in New York. Now, innit that a nice news story? You’ll fund The Sun for weeks.”

“I ain’t goin’ back home, I’ll tell ya’ that much.”

“Don’t blame ya’. Can’t imagine Cassius without Gisela whisperin’ in his ear. If I ain’t mistaken, she ran off with the same folks my son did. Hm. S’pose the Sencens are fans of tryin’ to corrupt innocent boys.”

“I have as much dirt on you as you do on me, old man.”

“Mm. But who’s gonna believe a bratty rich runaway over a charmin’ well-established farmer from Georgia?”

“You certainly ain’t charmed me.”

“I certainly ain’t tried. Now, it would be real nice of ya’ to water n’ brush the horses, if you’d please.” 

Knowing well enough when he was stuck in a corner, Keefe walked off to comply.

“Oh, one more thing, nearly forgot.”

Keefe paused in his steps without turning around.

“Try not to talk to Fitz today. I’ll be watchin’.” 

Keefe kept walking.

“Hey, now, son! What do we say when we’re told to do somethin’? You forget your manners?”

“Yes, yes, I won’t talk to Fitz.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s what I thought. Get on down there, now, while there’s still light to the day.”

~*~

Keefe spent the entire day companionless, as Fitz was once again excused from work, and Alden was allergic to doing any work himself. At least this gave him time to plan his escape.

He wanted to go out easy. Quiet. But not without impact. 

It would be simple enough to go in the house, snatch what he could (little things that would fetch a pretty penny. Not too sentimental. Not if he could help it.) and get out quick. He could be at the town by sunrise, and back out of the town before noon. Booking it enough that even if Alden tried to chase after him, Keefe would always be a few hours ahead.

He didn’t respond to the bell for lunch, nor for dinner, despite hearing them. He couldn’t face Fitz, not in front of Alden, not without spilling his guts and running away.

Of course, he should’ve realized sooner that Fitz was an inevitability, because it certainly seemed that way when he turned up with a plate of dinner at the barn door. 

“Keefe? Ya’ down here? Got some pot pie.”

Keefe rushed to meet him, hoping he was subtle enough in his blocking of the doorway. Hoping this was an olive branch to Alden. Look, I ain’t seducing your son, he’s right in your sight.

“Ah, thank ya’ kindly.”

“You need someone to eat with? Ain’t got bourbon this time ‘round, I’m afraid. Pap is on edge somethin’ fierce, couldn’t slip anythin’ under his nose.” 

“Well, now, I don’t wanna burden ya’.”

“You ain’t no burden. C’mon, we ain’t talked all day. Don’t got many friends on the farm, it’s you or the horses.”

“Biana wouldn’t like bein’ called that.”

Fitz laughed, but Keefe was too busy checking the house for a man pointing a shotgun at him to enjoy it. Indeed, right in the window was the outline of a man. They were being watched. 

“Keefe.”

“Hm?”

“Did ya’ hear what I said?”

“Oh, naw, sorry. Got distracted. What was it?”

“You all right?”

“Right as rain.” 

“Hmph. Alright then. I s’pose you don’t want no company?”

“Naw, don’t worry, I’m perfect here by myself.”

“I’ll take you by your word, then,” Fitz said, handing over the plate.

Please don’t.

“Okay.”

~*~

Keefe wasn’t disturbed again until midnight.

Sleep was well out of the equation, and he was terribly on guard. Any snap of a twig meant Alden was turning the corner with a shiny new Winchester, when the wind howled Keefe figured he must be using it to cover that he was loading, when it was all too silent it meant he must be aiming it.  

But, quite stupidly, Keefe’s first thought when the barn door slid open with a creak, was wolves.

Fortunately, it was neither an angry father, nor an elusive Vacker Farm Wolf, just Fitz holding an oil lantern.

Fitz, holding an oil lantern, catching Keefe in the middle of loading up a blanket with his previously snatched treasures.

Less fortunate. 

“Oh, you’re awake. Um. What’re doin’?” Fitz asked.

“I don’t- I mean- There ain’t a good explanation, I’m sorry-”

Fitz stepped forward, looking at the trinkets. 

“This stuff from Alvar’s room?”

“Y-yeah. But I didn’t- I don’t- I’ll put it back-”

“Hm? Naw, it ain’t of no use. Told ya’ before, Alvar ain’t comin’ back, and we weren’t using it.”

“Oh.”

“I’m more worried that it looks like you’re packin’ up on us.”

“Yes. Right. That. Tell ya’ the truth, I shouldn’t even be talkin’ to you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Your father made a very convincing argument involving a shotgun.” 

Fitz sighed.

“I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

“He told me to get out by dawn. You caught me right on time.”

“Well, if dawn’s the deadline, we got a while.”

“Maybe not the best verbiage, there. All too literal.”

Fitz laughed, walking over to take a seat on a hay bale, patting the space next to him to invite Keefe to sit.

It was a moment after they were settled that Keefe asked,

“So, what made you come down here?”

“I wasn’t all that convinced earlier. You’re always weird, actin’, but that was worse.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Also…”

“Also?”

“I was thinkin’ that you know everything about us, but I don’t know a damn thing about you.”

“I don’t know everything about you,” Keefe insisted.

“Yeah? Ask, I’m an open book. Then it’s your turn, though.”

“Alright. Y’all ain’t from Kansas, how’d you end up all the way out here?” 

“The farm was my great aunt’s. She’s… well, she ain’t the nicest person. Maybe one of the meanest, and most stubborn. She didn’t like it when Kansas decided it was gonna join the Union in the war. She had to free all those folks, whether she liked it or not, and then she wouldn’t hire any… morally correct workers. She just said she was gonna do it all herself. Lord, she managed about fifteen years at it. Don’t know how. But we took over about five years back.”

“Well. You are open.”

“Mm-hmm. Anything else?” Fitz asked.

“Um. Well. No, frankly.”

“Good. My turn, then. Where’re you from?”

“Everywhere. Nowhere.”

“Not the answer I’m lookin’ for, you know that.”

Keefe sighed.

“New York. But I haven’t been there in eight years.”

“Since you were ten?”

“Yes. That’s, um… that’s when I ran away.”

“That’s awful young. Why?”

“My father’s an asshole, my mother’s in a cult. As I saw it, it was that or some kinda boarding school for politicians in training.”

“Did I hear right the other night? You’re a Sencen?”

“Unfortunately. Don’t claim that name anymore, though. Not that many folks recognize it, out here. Except y’all. I stumbled on the only farm in miles that would know my name.”

“Just your luck.”

“Indeed.”

“Where’re you headed, at the end of all of this runnin’?”

“Not sure, honestly. I like the sound of California. Not even sure I know how to settle down somewhere. I’m too jittery.” 

“So… you probably ain’t stickin’ around Kansas long?”

“Not if I have a say in it. I’m sorry, but I hate this place. It’s the tenth circle of hell, I swear.”

“Lord. Can’t say I disagree.” 

They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the sounds of the world outside the barn and staring at the lamplight. 

“Fitz.”

“Hm?”

“I really… I need to go. I’m not trying to meet the working end of a shotgun tonight.”

Fitz sighed.

“Can I be honest?” he asked.

“Always.”

“I really hate this damn house, Keefe. I know it’s easy to… I don’t know, easy to just say you hate somethin’. But I am being serious, I am itchin’ to get outta this fuckin’ place. And… and if this ain’t an opportunity, I don’t know what is.”

“Fitz… I don’t-”

“I’m not kidding around, when the hell else am I supposed to get out? Biana and I both can be packed in half an hour, flat. I’m ready, Keefe, I am.”

“Fitz-”

“Keefe. I am serious. Run away with me.”

“You… your life, I mean, it’s a good one! You’ve never worried about money, you- I mean, you do farm work, but you haven’t worked for a living. Are you ready to-”

“Aw, hell.”

Fitz leaned over, guiding Keefe’s face to his and meeting him with a kiss.

It was tender, and slow. Nothing like the fevered, desperate, fast kissing Keefe had been thinking about (more frequently than he’d ever admit) over the last days.

Keefe would be lying if he said he didn’t immediately melt into it, barely caught off guard. He would be lying if he said something about this didn’t feel inherently right. More than any other boy he’d messed around with, way more than any girl he’d messed around with.

So, when Fitz finally pulled away, all he could say was,

“Wow.”

And then,

“Okay, yea- yes. Yes. I’ll take you. But, you know that Alden will probably chase us. Or say we’re missing, and get the police to do the work for him. It won’t be easy.”

“Well, going on the lam sounds like a new adventure. By the time we hit California, we’ll have new identities, new backstories, new accents, everything.”

“New accents?”

“I’ll be British, or somethin’. Whatever.”

“Alright, redcoat, get packed. Hurry, now.”

“Thirty minutes, flat. Promise.”

“Don’t get caught.”

“I don’t make mistakes,” Fitz said with a wink, grabbing his lamp and exiting the barn.

~*~

How the house caught fire and the horses got free, no one would know for sure.

But, it was most certainly not a mistake if Fitz was to be believed, and the biggest damn mistake in the world if Keefe was.

It went something along the lines of this:

Keefe, too jittery to sit down any longer, stepped outside to anxiously await the sibling’s return.

That was when he saw the first trace of a glow.

Immediately followed by two frantic figures running towards him, bags trailing in the air behind them, clothing loosely stuck and shoved within.

“What the hell happened?!” he asked, as they finally reached him.

“Dropped the damn lamp! C’mon, ain’t got no time!” Fitz yelled, grabbing Keefe’s wrist and dragging him to a run.

They followed Biana to the stables. She was already unlocking the main door and swiftly moved to freeing her horse.

“Take your choice,” she said, “I call Silveny.”

Fitz went to get his horse, and Keefe was immediately drawn to Greyfell.

“Keefe, that’s a horrible idea,” Fitz said as Keefe unlocked the gate and lead the half asleep horse out.

“Naw, it’s a great idea. No one’ll steal him, cause no one else can ride his crazy ass.”

Fitz rolled his eyes, but even in the dark, Keefe could see a hint of a smile on his face.

“C’mon, boys,” Biana said, “We gotta run.”

“Wait,” Fitz said, going over to another mare, unlocking her gate.

“Fitz, we can’t take four horses,” Biana said.

“Naw. But they’ll scatter, the fire’ll scare them, and then Pap can’t chase us without a horse to ride. He’ll never catch up.”

By the time they mounted and rode to the dirt path that led from the house, two other figures were in the yard, staring helplessly as their house burned further.

Alden, so preoccupied with staring uselessly at his home that he didn’t notice the riders in the distance.

And Della, looking at them, frozen. 

The riders slowed, seeming to meet an impasse just from her stare.

With a bit of hesitation, she nodded. Waving them on towards the road. The closest to a goodbye she could give.

~*~

When Keith, Bianca, and Fitzwilliam Baker rode across the California line a month after a bandit burned down Alden Vacker’s home and kidnapped his two children, no one blinked an eye.

When they rode up to a farm filled with free walking animals, and were met with a kind looking blonde man, no threats were made.

When “Keith” said, “Sir, my friends and I need work. Do you have some place mats to spare?” The man didn’t even need to think.

“Of course,” he said, with a smile, “welcome to Havenfield.”

[queenshelby]

ME AND THE DEVIL – PART ONE

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 3555

Warning: Smut, Abuse 

Notes: This is fiction and not historically accurate. It plays somewhere in the middle of Season 5, after Tommy met Oswald Mosley and became affiliated with him but before he planned to assassinate him.

Tag List: 

@lilymurphy03

@deefigs

@theflamecrystal 

@chrisevanshoeee

 @desperate-and-broken

@weepingstudentfishhorse

@severewobblerlightdragon

@captivatedbycillianmurphy

------

You were the oldest daughter of the chief of police in London and married to Oswald Mosley. The marriage between you and Oswald was arranged by your father who was supporting Mosley’s fascist movement.

Your husband was abusive and disrespectful towards you. You despised him and his fascist views. Luckily for you, he didn’t involve you in many political events. You were only obliged to attend functions with him where it benefitted him and his party.

You were aware that he was expanding his party but you didn’t involve yourself with politics, at least so it seemed. You knew that the fascist movement was dangerous and you hoped that, one day, your husband would pay for his sins.

You were not allowed to work, but you were allowed to volunteer at the local orphanage and soup kitchen. As the wife of Oswald Mosley, this was beneficial for his political campaign so he didn’t intervene. Little did he know that this was where you would meet one of his enemies.

Just so it happened that, on a Thursday evening when you were volunteering at the orphanage, you met a mysterious stranger.

Dressed in a comfortable but elegant dress, you unpacked several toys that were delivered from the Womens Association of Birmingham for the children at the orphanage.

The children were excited and you could barely keep up with their demand. Their excitement was overwhelming and their eyes lit up as they took the toys from your hands. It wasn’t often that they received brand new toys and you took joy simply in seeing their excitement. You wanted children of your own, but not with your husband. He wasn’t capable to be a good father and you were glad that, despite numerous attempts, you didn’t conceive.

After years, he told you that you were worthless, not being able to give him a child. But you were somewhat grateful for it. It also meant that he no longer bothered to force you to sleep with him, which never was pleasurable in any sort of way. You were pleased to learn that, after years of abuse, he found whores to be of more interest to him than you.

The work at the orphanage took you away from your miserable life. Working with children was pure joy for you and gave you the courage to inform on your husband to the communist partry. You did it for them, so that they can grow up in a world free from oppression. Your husband was the devil and you knew that very well.

Just as you went to get the last box of toys from the van, a man approached you from behind.

‘Please, let me help you with this’ the man said, taking the heavy box from your hands. He could see that you were struggling with its weight. After all, you were of small statue.

‘Thank you, Mr…’ you said in a way you would usually ask a question.

‘Shelby. Thomas Shelby’ the man said as he walked inside with you.

You showed him where to place the box so that you could unpack it as, all of a sudden, one of the nuns from the orphanage walked towards you from the hallway.

‘Please, Mr Shelby, you do not need to do this’ the nun said with a hasty voice.

‘But it’s my pleasure’ Tommy said as he opened the box and helped you unpack it.

‘Thank you’ you said with a shy smile as you couldn’t help it but stare into his bright blue eyes.

‘No thank you for the work you are doing here Y/N. It is admirable’ Tommy said with a warm smile.

‘I take joy in it’ you said before asking him how he knew your name.

Your question caused Tommy to point to your name tag.

You flushed immediately. Of course, he can read.

‘Very informal’ Tommy said as he observed that the name tag only had your first name on it.

‘Well, I like to be the children’s friend. I am not one of the mistresses or teachers here. I simply volunteer’ you said whilst, the truth was, you were embarrassed of who you were. Y/N Mosley, the wife of a fascist. Of course, you weren’t going to tell him that.

‘We need more kind hearted people like you in a world like this Y/N’ Tommy said as he unpacked the last toy from the box.

‘Please, you make me blush Mr Shelby’ you said shyly while looking up into his piercing blue eyes again.

He was much older than you, probably the same age as your husband, but he was incredibly attractive. Unlike your husband, he appeared kind hearted in his own way.

‘My apologies, it wasn’t my attention to make you uncomfortable’ Tommy said with a smile.

‘It’s quite alright Mr Shelby. Thank you again for helping with this’ you said as you were wondering why he was at the orphanage.

‘Tell me, why are you here? What is your business?’ you asked with curiosity.

‘I am having a meeting with Miss Walsh at 4 o’clock to discuss the funding of the new library for the orphanage. As you know, the orphanage has the facility on site. It’s unused and will need to be fenced. And of course, we will need books’ Tommy said. You could hear the passion in his voice for the project.

‘Are you funding it?’ you asked bluntly.

‘My late wife’s charity is. She cared deeply for children who were abandoned or lost their parents in the war’ Tommy explained.

‘She seemed like a wonderful woman and I am sorry for your loss Mr Shelby’ you said.

‘She was and thank you for your kind words Y/N’ Tommy said.

‘May I offer you a tea? Just while you wait for Miss Walsh?’ you asked.

Tommy agreed and you sat down in the reading room for 15 minutes before Miss Walsh arrived.

You enjoyed your conversation with Tommy. He seemed like a smart man, elegant, firm and yet kind hearted.

The conversations you had were mostly about the orphanage and plans for the education of the children. You loved to read and you liked the idea of a library. You shared ideas for fundraisers and it was evident to you that Tommy was intrigued by you. His eyes wandered everywhere, from your face, down to your hands, which is where he noticed your wedding ring.

‘You are married. Do you and your husband have children?’ Tommy asked.

‘No, we do not. How about you Mr Shelby?’ you asked.

‘A son and a daughter’ Tommy said.

‘Then you are lucky’ you responded just as Miss Walsh arrived.

You said goodbye to Tommy and, just as he was about to leave with Miss Walsh, he asked you whether you would be interested to help with the establishment of the library since you were familiar with literature.

You were surprised that a man like him would personally involve himself with a project like this. It was more common for rich men to simply provide the funds. But, he seemed to care for this particular project, so you agreed.

A few weeks after your encounter with Tommy, the books arrived and you volunteered to sort them and arrange the library for the children.

Tommy came by one afternoon to see how the project came along and offered you his assistance. But most of the time it was his sister Ada who attended the library to catalogue the books with you.

She was a kind woman, socially aware and most defiantly in favour of the communist movement.

Despite your numerous discussions about politics, Ada never thought to mention that her brother Tommy was a politician himself. In fact, she didn’t like to speak about him at all.

Another week later, you were surprised to see Tommy at the library at lunch time.

‘Good Afternoon Y/N’ Tommy said as he brought in another box of books.

‘Mr Shelby, I am surprised to see you’ you said. This was your third encounter with Tommy and you were pleased to see him. You were intrigued by him.

‘I thought you could use some help since my sister is busy with errands today’ Tommy said.

‘So, you came here to help me catalogue books?’ you said sheepishly.

‘Making appearances Y/N, that’s all’ he said as he began to unpack the books.

‘Thank you, Mr Shelby, but…’ you said and before you could continue, Tommy interrupted you.

‘Please, just call me Tommy’ he said as he handed you the books.

You climbed up the ladder to put them onto the higher shelves just as Tommy advised you that, the truth was, that he had meeting with Miss Walsh again but that he set aside some time for the library beforehand.

Tommy and you talked for a while as you shelved the books. You noticed his eyes gaze over you again on several occasions in particular when you stepped up the ladder. He was clearly looking at your ass, possibly even your underwear, but you didn’t mind.

Every time you came down from the ladder, he stood uncomfortably close to you, so close that you could smell the scent of his aftershave. It smelled like musk and he was clearly chewing mint, probably to hide the smell of the cigarettes.

He was handsome, very handsome and the look he gave you every time he handed you more books from the table was intense. A look of want and desire. Or were you imagining it?

Unfortunately, your encounter with him only lasted for about thirty minutes before he had to excuse himself in order to meet with Miss Walsh.

You said goodbye to Tommy with a warm smile and received a smile in return.

Just after he left, you went on with cataloguing the books. It was a slow process and you were the only volunteer on duty that day. Your husband approved. Doing community service was beneficial to his party and political goals. It shows that him and his family care for the community.

But you simply did it because you felt it was right and gave you a purpose.

You spent nearly every day at the library and almost all books were catalogued.

After another half an hour, you had one more box to shelf for the day. You were focused, your mind entirely with the books.

To your surprise, just as you stepped down from the ladder to grab more books for the top shelf, your face was just above Tommy’s face. You couldn’t believe that he was there. You never heard him come back.

‘How long have you been standing there?’ you asked as your foot touched the floor.

‘A few minutes, just enough to admire the view’ he said sheepishly and you weren’t sure whether to smack or kiss him.

But, before you could make up your mind, he leaned in and took the kiss he’s been desperate for since the moment you’ve met.

The kiss was gentle at first, brushing his lips against yours a couple of times, then locking them together in a haste, allowing your tongues to explore each other.

You had never been kissed this way before and gave into him completely.

Your mind told you to stop, to push him away. You didn’t know this man and if your husband was to find out, it would be detrimental for the both of you.

But in your heart, you wanted this so badly. This and so much more.

As your tongues played with each other, coyly at first, then like long-lost lovers, Tommy’s hands ran over your back all the way down to your ass.

His lips tasted sweet and his hands sent shivers through your body.

Without breaking the kiss, Tommy’s hands wandered beneath your skirt, gently and passionately.

‘Not here. The reading area’ you whispered just after you broke away from the kiss.

Tommy nodded just before he planted his mouth just above your clavicle.

While planting gentle kisses over you, Tommy navigated to one of the long desks in the reading area.

He was so gentle, a feeling that was unfamiliar to you. Despite the fact that you barely knew him, you somehow trusted him and wanted him.

Just as your back hit the desk, Tommy lifted you up to sit on it before gently pushing your legs apart.

He moved in between your legs while continuing to kiss you. His skilled fingers began unbuttoning your white blouse, revealing your lace bra.

No words were spoken as Tommy ran his index fingers down the inside of the straps of your bra, over the edges of the cups, then down your cleavage, all while gazing his eyes over your body.

He kept this tease up until you got impatient. Your breathing became heavy as he pulled the bra down, freeing your breasts. Your areolas were covered in goosebumps and your nipples were puffed up. The reading lamp lit all your curves in titillating contrast and you could that Tommy enjoyed what he was seeing.

Not ever had a man looked at you with such desire. You only ever been with one man, your husband, and this was new territory. You actually enjoyed yourself and were feeling guilty about it.

‘So beautiful’ Tommy whispered just before his lips kissed, licked and sucked their way to your stiff nubs on your breasts.

His hands cupped, squeezed and kneaded your smooth flesh and you moaned deeply and gripped the edge of the desk behind you.

Tommy flicked the tip of his tongue across your nipple before nibbling naughtily around it. Not ever had anyone paid such attention to your breasts and you started to feel something that was unfamiliar to you.

You could feel a tingling sensation build up in between your legs and your lace panties were getting wet.

Just as Tommy continued to stimulate your breasts, you gasped and threw your head back as his teeth ever-so-gently brushed up against your nubs again.

Tommy’s hands soon moved from your breasts down beneath your skirt, brushing over the inside of your thighs.

You pushed your legs together for a moment, unsure whether to give in or not.

You despised being touched there by your husband but this was actually enjoyable.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ Tommy asked, noticing your reluctance.

‘No, please don’t’ you said as you decided to let him proceed, opening your legs again.

You were slightly embarrassed by the wetness pooling in between your legs but, to your surprise, Tommy seemed pleased with it.

‘You are so wet Love’ he smirked as his fingers finally brushed over your panties just before he crashed his lips back onto yours.

You moaned into the kiss as his fingers pulled aside your panties and you could feel his finger tips roam over your entrance.

You tried hard to relax as Tommy’s fingers ran up and down your slit and started spread your juices.

He teased your entrance, just slipping in a single finger and only to his first knuckle.

This must be what foreplay was all about you thought as you kept giving in to your moans.

‘Tommy’ you moaned, desperate for more and, just like that, Tommy suddenly bit your neck gently while plunging his finger deep inside you.

Your moans turned to a gasp and a whimper as pleasure flooded your senses. You knew that Tommy had just left a hickey and, whilst you should be concerned, it just made you even wetter.

Tommy kept kissing and biting your neck as he added another finger inside of you and explored you with his fingers. The tip of his finger found many crevices but, unbeknownst to you, he was searching for your g-spot.

‘Fuck, oh god’ you screamed all of a sudden as Tommy’s fingers pressed upwards, earning you smirk from Tommy.

He had just found what he was looking for and, based on your reaction, it was evident to him that he was the first to have found your sweet spot.

Just as he relieved the pressure inside you, he pushed his fingers up again, and again, each time causing you to moan loudly.

‘Shh Love, one of the nuns might hear you’ Tommy whispered sheepishly just as he pulled his fingers out of you.

All these sensations were unfamiliar to you.

‘Please don’t stop’ you pleaded. It felt so good.

Tommy pulled you close for another kiss to shallow your moans before slipping his fingers back inside of you.

His fingers began to push against your g-spot again, running smooth circles and stimulating it just the right way. You were panting. It was ecstasy and you could feel an unfamiliar tension build up in your stomach.

‘I am going to make you come now Love. Try to be quiet’ Tommy said and you had literally no idea what he was talking about until, all of a sudden, he pushed into you with more force.

Your whimpers soon turned into shouts and you clenched onto Tommy’s arms firmly.

It wasn’t long until Tommy could feel your walls tighten around his two fingers.

‘Oh my god’ you moaned before you held your breath, not knowing what was happening to you as you felt your orgasm roll through your body.

‘That's it Love’ Tommy said satisfied as he continued to stimulate you.

You gasped as electricity shot up and down your spine while Tommy kissed you again to soften your screams.

He could hear footsteps approach and quickly withdrew his fingers.

‘Mr Shelby, is everything alright?’ one of the nuns asked loudly.

‘Yes, I am just helping with the books’ Tommy said with a grin on his face as he rearranged his pants to deal with his throbbing erection.

You were quick to button up your blouse before the nun approached.

‘I just thought I could hear a scream, that’s all’ the nun said.

‘Yes, that was me, I caught a splinter from the ladder and Mr Shelby just helped me get it out from my finger’ you said, your face still flushed and your hair messy.

‘Mr Shelby, if you do have a minute, Mr Connel would like to discuss the article in the paper for your campaign’ the nun said. ‘We thought that you had left but when I saw your car I hoped that I would find you here’ she added.

‘Of course’ Tommy said and, just like that he left.

‘It was nice to see you Y/N. Perhaps we meet again sometime soon’ he said with a grin as he followed the nun.

‘Likewise, Mr Shelby’ you responded.

You wanted to so much more but, since you almost got caught, it was probably for the better that you didn’t take this further.

You were hoping to see Tommy again but, for the next couple of weeks, he didn’t attend the orphanage.

You asked his sister Ada about him with some curiosity.

‘My brother is probably busy in Westminster. Although, who knows. I have given up on following politics. Why are you asking?’ Ada said.

‘Politics? Is Thomas a politician?’ you asked surprised and slightly concerned.

‘Yes, he is a member of parliament. Did you not know?’ Ada asked surprised.

‘I had no idea’ you said, wondering whether he knew your husband and whether you were nothing but a political stunt. Was this planned by an opponent? Did Tommy know who you were? Or was it a sheer mistake?

All these thoughts were wandering through your mind as Ada was talking to you and you didn’t listen to a single word she said.

‘Y/N? Are you alright?’ Ada asked.

‘Yes sorry, I am fine’ you said just before finishing up for the day. You had to make your way home soon before dinner.

You excused yourself and headed home. The thoughts however wouldn’t leave your head.

Your husband wasn’t home when you arrived. As usual, he was either with your sister or at the whorehouse.

You didn’t care much and enjoyed the nights on your own. You were no longer sharing a bedroom but you hated to cross his way when he was around. A black eye here and there or some bruises and scratches were the norm when he was there.

The next morning, Oswald walked through the door at around 8 o’clock, just in time for breakfast.

‘Did you buy yourself a dress for tonight?’ he asked after shouting at the maid. The coffee was too cold for his liking.

‘Oswald, please’ you said, trying to reason with him as the maid left rather upset.

‘Then you get the fucking coffee, wife!’ Oswald shouted and you got up, taking his cup and walking towards the kitchen.

‘There you go’ you said as you returned with a fresh cup from the kitchen.

‘See, that wasn’t that hard now, was it? Even my fucking wife could manage’ he said to the maid as he took a sip.

‘Now dear, did you get yourself a dress? Something outstanding for the gala?’ Oswald asked.

‘Of course. You will approve. It is very elegant and expensive’ you said.

‘Good. We need to make an impression. You will meet the new members of my party and, as you know, all politicians judge each other. There is no room for mistakes’ Oswald explained.

‘Of course, I understand. Now would you please excuse me. I will need to freshen up’ you said before Oswald waived you away

[deathbyjoong]

ATEEZ Honeymoon HCs

Summary: I wrote a few thousand words on what I thought a honeymoon would be like with each member of ATEEZ. I hope you all enjoy ✨

Many many thanks to @bfyunho​ for beta-ing and generally being my favorite person 💕

Warnings: fluff and smut. 18+ ONLY!

Seonghwa

Y’all already KNOW that a honeymoon with Seonghwa is just gonna be two weeks of him exercising his duality

Constant love-making? Absolutely. But also! Lots of interesting things to do and many opportunities to make memories

Where’s he gonna do that? A large resort suite all to yourselves in Mediterranean ItalyIt’s warm, sensual, fun, perfect--everything you ever wanted

Days spent wandering the town, swimming, finding museums and restaurants

Seonghwa insists on taking selfies at every single location--he wants to know every single one of these moments long after his memory has failed him

Sunbathing on a private sailboat on the Amalfi Coast, soaking in the vitamin D 

The ship’s captain finds a beautiful, unoccupied spot in a shallow cove, and drops anchor

He then heads into the cabin of the boat to give you and your husband some privacy

Seonghwa sits on a lounge chair behind you, rubbing sunscreen on your shoulders

He’s letting his hands move just as slowly and sensually across your skin as he wants, taking his time in listening to your breath hitch in your throat

Eventually ducking his head down to press his lips to a spot on your neck he hasn’t covered yet, while his thumbs still rub circles on your shoulders

Giving all his attention to that one area, biting lightly then sucking the skin to soothe it

You lean your head back, giving him all the access he could want, and a soft sigh escapes your parted lips

His hair tickles your shoulder, but Seonghwa doesn’t linger long before he’s turning you to face him so he can kiss you properly

He’s got the ties of your swimsuit undone in seconds, and you throw your legs over Seonghwa’s hips as soon as it’s off

You grind yourself on him, abusing his swim shorts in your pursuit of a little friction

Hwa grips you by the waist, firmly but not enough to hurt. Just enough to get you close--enough to help you rise and fall on him

Something occurs to you, and you break the kiss to breathlessly murmur in his ear

“You need sunscreen, too. You’re gonna burn.”

Hwa chuckles, dangerously low, flashing his teeth as he reaches down with one hand and picks up the bottle he’d set on the deck

“My wife is so considerate,” he coos, handing it to you

You take it, rolling your eyes. But Seonghwa’s arms tighten around you once more, and you’re brought close to the tent in his shorts again

“Will you put some on me too, then?” He looks up at you with puppy dog eyes that are completely betrayed by his pupils, blown wide

You squeeze some of the lotion into your hands and let the bottle fall down as you spread it over his shoulders

You’re consumed by his kiss again, gripping his shoulders, arms, neck, wherever you can reach

His skin rubs slick against yours because of the sunscreen, and all you can taste is the salt on Seonghwa’s lips as he does away with his shorts and finally pushes into you

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes of soft moans, grinding, and his mouth against your neck for you to come, head thrown back and facing the sun

Your husband isn’t long after, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder as he loses himself in you

When you’ve come down from your high, Seonghwa stands slowly and pulls you with him

“Let’s go swimming.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon wading in the shallow waters of the cove, soaking in the sun and kicking up the white sand with your toes

When the sun starts to slide down the sky, setting everything aglow with orange and gold, Seonghwa stands behind you and holds his lips to the back of your head

His arms are around you, and your joined form sways gently with the waves until the sun falls away completely

When you get back to the resort, you both shower off and Seonghwa presents you with a beautiful dress to wear to dinner

He wines and dines you every single night, even making an effort to learn some Italian to more easily place your orders and interact with locals

And each night, he lifts his glass and toasts, “To you, Mrs. Park.”

Hongjoong

It took exactly zero convincing for you to get Hongjoong to agree to Paris

He loved the idea right away, because it’s a city known for its art and fashion

You reserve a penthouse room in the heart of Paris, with floor to ceiling windows and sheer white curtains

The two of you arrive in Paris decked out in the most impeccable airport fashion, ready to paint the city red

Unfortunately, the jet lag hits you both a little harder than expected

So you spend the rest of the first day sleeping and eating in bed, to the backdrop of sultry French soul music playing over the radio

The next morning, you wake up just as the sun is beginning to peek over the rooftops

It sends gold rays through the blue light of the morning

You slept with the windows cracked, and the soft breeze blows through the curtains

He’s sleeping next to you, and you curl up against him, perfectly content to get a few more minutes of sleep

His t-shirt smells like him--like home-- and you smile to yourself

But something less wholesome is going on his head

Hongjoong’s eyebrows tilt and his lips part as he whimpers in his sleep

It’s an expression you recognize, although he’s only ever made it while he’s very much awake

Usually as you take him, nails grazing down his stomach, watching his head fall back against the pillows

You have to wonder if that’s what he’s dreaming about, but you’re not about to sit by and let the dream version of you have all the fun

Throwing a leg over his hips, you rest your hands on Joong’s chest and slowly kiss his neck

He moans softly, eyes opening as he wakes

His hands find your hips, pulling you against the growing hardness in his sweatpants, and there’s a sheepish smirk on his face

“Sounded like a good dream,” you whisper against his lips

Hongjoong smiles in the dim light, his eyes flicking to your mouth

“It was,” he replies

His hand is creeping up your back, fingers purposely snagging on your t-shirt

“But nothing compared to this, and nothing compared to you,” he says, and kisses you firmly

You’re not usually one for morning sex, but this lazy love is exquisite in its own way

It’s all slow touches and kisses that are soft but not lacking in passion

Hongjoong shifts to be on top of you and your noses bump, causing both of you to giggle a bit

Joong hides his face in your neck, but takes the opportunity to place a few kisses there

The pair of you take your time in climbing the mountain, but you reach the peak at the same time, hands clasped and legs tangled

You tilt your head a little to watch his face as he comes because the sight of him, and the sounds he’s making, are nothing short of gorgeous

Following an equally slow comedown, you shower off together and clamber back into bed for another couple hours of sleep

When you’re both a bit more rested, you set out on foot to explore the city

Munching on croissants with Hongjoong at an outdoor cafe, and sipping espressos before setting off again

You stop at a small flower stand, and Joong buys you a handful of roses

As you walk on, he has his hands in his pockets, and you loop your arm through his

The content smile playing on his lips gives you a high, and you bask in the moment

The following day, you drive to the Musee du Louvre, and stay until closing time

Joong looks at the art, and you look at him, admiring your own masterpiece

You’re thankful you ended up here because it gives you a perfect, constant view of his profile, from his starry eyes to the tip of his nose to his lovely mouth

He catches you staring at him, and blushes while trying to suppress a smile

You do another day trip to the palace and gardens at Versailles, holding hands as you stroll through the ornate, golden halls and endless paths adorned by flowers

And, of course, it’s not a trip to Paris, or a trip with Hongjoong, if there isn’t shopping for clothes at some point

You pick outfits out for each other in the city’s best boutiques de vetements, from sleek luxury retailers to some of the more underrated shops in the art district

The two of you end up having to buy another suitcase for all the clothes you bring back, but this turn of events is shocking to no one

It’s the most fun you could have on a vacation, and your only consolation for having to go home at the end of the week is getting to start the best adventure of all

Being married to your best friend

Yunho

You’ve always wanted to visit Austria

What better occasion than your honeymoon to spend a week in Salzburg?

It’s all wonderful-- the music, scenery, history, and dancing!

It’s a series of beautiful moments from the very start of your trip

You and Yunho watch Harry Potter together on the plane there, sharing earbuds and mouthing the spells together

At one point, Yunho moves the armrest so the two of you can comfortably hold hands

You doze off together, heads resting against each other, and are only awoken by the captain announcing that you’ve landed

You were worried about jet lag, but your Energizer bunny husband has an abundance of contagious excitement

You drop your bags at the hotel, change clothes, and immediately set off on your first adventure

It’s a sunny, breezy day and the sweet aroma of flowers on balconies is everywhere

You’re strolling hand in hand down a cobblestone road in the historic district of the town when you and Yunho hear the music at the same time

You’re drawn like magnets to the sound of a small band playing on the sidewalk

Yunho pulls you in for a dance, just like you knew he would, one grasping yours and the other pulling you close by the waist

As he swings you in circles, you think to yourself, this is why you married him

His carefree nature, spontaneity, and the joy his spirit radiates

And the laughter in your ears that’s just as much music as the instruments being played on the corner of the street

Though you don’t know the steps, and you’re pretty sure Yunho is making them up on the spot, you never once stumble over each other

He ends the dance by twirling you around, tickled pink at how much fun you’re both having

Next, you find a little outdoor cafe, and insist on feeding him yourself

Yunho is blushing and acting like he thinks it’s ridiculous, but when you finally give up, he picks up the fork and hands it back to you with a sheepish smile

You giggle and scoop up a piece of the chocolate cake you’re sharing, watching his cheeks turn pink as he accepts it

By the time the cake is finished, you’ve got a bit of chocolate icing on the corner of your mouth

Instead of just pointing it out to you, Yunho becomes Yunhoe

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he reaches across the little table and swipes his thumb across your lip

You thought he was just being cute, until he brings his hand back to his mouth and sucks the icing off his thumb

As you watch with a smirk, Yunho gives you a look that makes it clear he’s doing the math in his head of how quickly you can get back to the hotel room

He throws a handful of Euros on the table (more than the bill would’ve been) and grabs your hand

Twenty minutes later, you stumble backwards out of the elevator, arms thrown around Yunho’s shoulders

His mouth is hot over yours, and you have to laugh at yourself for not even making it one day before jumping each other

But hey-- what are honeymoons for, right?

He breaks your kiss only to swipe the key card at the room door, but his lips are right back on yours as soon as he can

Yunho picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and blindly pushes the door open behind you

You’re not sure whose idea it was, or if either of you even thought about it, but you end up bent over the balcony railing, your lower half shielded from pedestrians below only by flower boxes

Yunho’s got one hand around your waist, and the other hand braced on the railing

He’s groaning softly between kisses against the side of your neck, thrusting into you from behind

At one point his hand drifts from your waist to press into your clit, causing your head to fall back against his shoulder

Yunho puts a hand over your mouth to stifle the moans that you can’t keep in

You come shortly after with a muffled cry into his palm, and Yunho bites into your shoulder as gently as he can to muffle his own noise when he comes a moment later

You take a few moments to come down before Yunho walks you inside to clean off

You collapse onto the bed together for a much-needed nap, dozing off peacefully in your favorite place in the world-- your husband’s arms

Yeosang

You had to reason with Yeosang just a little to get him to agree to go to Greece for your honeymoon

But once he realized why you picked it out of all places, he came around

It offers food, sunshine, fresh air, and many adventures in a place made for exploring

Getting excited on the plane ride in, giggling with each other and looking out the window at the islands like a couple of excited kids

You go searching for the best views in Santorini, climbing through the endless maze of steps between white and blue buildings

So many selfies--Yeosang smiling shyly with his cheek pressed to the side of your head

After a while, he really starts to relax and have fun, and his smiles in your pictures get wider and wider

One day is devoted entirely to walking through the market in town, buying random food items just because they smell good and holding them out for the other to try

At one point Yeosang slips away while you’re not paying attention

Trying not to panic, you look around, feeling like a child who’s lost their mom at a supermarket

Just as you’re starting to lose your breath, Yeosang catches you by the waist

You knew it was him just by his touch, but you still look to his face for the reassurance that he’s there

There’s a glint in his eye that implies he’s amused by your concern at losing him, but he tells you it’s okay, and shows you where he went:

A bright bouquet of flowers no doubt native to the island is bursting from his hands in marvelous yellows, pinks, and whites

You recognize Asphodels, but the rest are beautiful, nameless mysteries

They almost get crushed between your bodies as you throw your arms around Sangie and kiss him in full public view

No one seems to mind it though-- it appears as though love is in the air on this day, carried by the light sea breeze and lit by the sun

Yeosang smiles into the kiss before reminding you to be careful of your flowers

You take them from him with a grin, but when you’re on your way home, the smile turns into a pout

“Sang?” “Yeah?” “My feet hurt.”

Yeosang fakes a dramatic sigh, but it’s not another second before he’s crouching in front of you, holding his arms out behind him

You gleefully climb on, and Yeosang carries you the rest of the short walk to your AirBnB

He’ll never say it out loud, but his favorite thing in the world is feeling your arms around his shoulders

Just like on your wedding day, just like now, just like he wants every day for the rest of his life

Another day, the two of you are hiking through some of the more rural parts of Santorini, and happen upon a beautiful wild olive grove near a cliff face

You come back the next morning with a blanket and some snacks, and spend the entire day in the shade

Admiring him as you sit by the seaside, because he looks so stunning among the greens and blues and yellows

Again--SO. MANY. SELFIES

It’s not your fault he looks that good

Maybe he looks a little too good

Maybe you make a mess of your picnic blanket after grabbing your husband and pulling him on top of you

Once Yeosang looks around and ascertains that there’s absolutely no one around, he’s all game

His hands are bunching the skirt up around your hips, his mouth greedy and searching your neck for any spot that’ll make you whimper when he sucks into it

Your spot in paradise turns into rapture as his fingers meet your core, massaging you until you start to dig your nails into his shoulder

You’ve got one hand on his bicep and the other in his hair when he takes you in one smooth motion, finding his rhythm like he never dropped it in the first place

You come apart beneath him, and beneath the softly rustling leaves of the olive trees

The two of you fall asleep shortly after, completely relaxed in each other’s arms

Holding hands on your walks through the town at night, underneath the twinkle lights

You’ve married your best friend, and this is the best beginning to your lives together that you could ever imagine

Happiness settles around you like a light blanket, and you hope it stays forever

San

Don’t ask me why, but a glass igloo hotel in Iceland seems perfect

It’s cozy but not too small, and it’s the picture of quiet luxury

The glass walls and ceiling give you a beautiful view of the wide Icelandic sky, which is clear as crystal after a fresh snowfall

There’s a fireplace against one wall, with a fuzzy rug in front of it and many, many pillows

You spend the first evening snuggled up there with San, sipping hot chocolate and talking about every random thing you can think of

He keeps finding reasons to say “my wife”, getting all giggly every time he does

After you fall asleep, another storm rolls through, dropping an extra foot of powdery snow all around you

You and San are oblivious, however, because you’re both fast asleep under several layers of blankets

Safe and warm in your little nest, you nuzzle your face into San’s neck, and he tightens his arms around you in his sleep

Because being with you, and keeping you close, comes as naturally to him as breathing

When you wake up, you see the wonderland outside and it’s not even a discussion-- you and Sannie are outside as fast as you can put on your clothes

You play in the snow together, and his adorable laugh echoes around you every time he beans you with a snowball

Chasing each other around like little kids, giggling and kicking up the snow

San catches you by the waist and spins you around, making sure to never drop you

You wrestle around a bit but eventually end up making snow angels together

When you stand up to admire your outlines in the snow, San pulls you close and presses his face into your hair

Putting an arm around his waist, you brush some of the snow off his jacket

He catches your hand, and holds it to his chest, where you can feel his heart pounding

“Never forget that this beats for you, okay?”

You almost cry, but opt to pull San to you and press kisses all over his face instead

He just giggles and accepts every single peck on his quickly-heating cheeks

Later that day, you make your way to the hot springs nearby, running as fast as you can to the water’s edge after dropping your coats

It’s a rush to the senses, slipping into the hot spring and away from the frigid air

San is behind you, gripping your hand tightly

You find a ledge that’s been carved into the rock underwater, and make yourselves comfortable on it

San leans back, eyes closed, and you can see the puffs of his breath coming slower and slower as he fully relaxes

You lean back against his arm, enjoying the feeling of his skin and the soft water pooling around you

You end up throwing your legs over his thighs and curling into his side

His arm goes around your shoulders, and you feel every bit of worry leave your body

You’re heavy with relaxation, but you feel lighter than ever

That evening, you’re watching a movie and sipping spiked hot chocolate when a flash of green lights up the igloo

Gasping, you stand up to stare skywards, mouth open

San turns off the movie and moves next to you, taking your hand and squeezing it lightly

You watch the Northern Lights in silence as they ripple across the sky in vivid purples, blues, and greens

A few minutes into the show, you glance over at San to see his eyes glittering with all the colors

He looks so beautiful, holding entire galaxies, and he doesn’t even realize it

When the lights begin to fade down, you reach over and pull San to you

He knew what you wanted from the first millisecond of touch

He responds in kind, tugging you as close to him as he can and making quick work of both your shirts

Chests pressed together and breathing ragged, you let yourselves fall back onto the rug

Arms and legs tangle as you make love beneath the glass ceiling, and the auroras begin to flicker again, making everything that much more beautiful

Falling asleep in each others’ arms, not only for the warmth, but because you love him more than anything in the world

Mingi

Madagascar!

It’s a lesser known honeymoon destination, with fewer people than some of the more popular spots in Europe or the Caribbean

You have your own bungalow on the beach, with room service twice a day and spa services as well

Getting massages and face masks with Mingi? Yes. Doing so in matching fluffy white robes? Double yes.

Going on a safari adventure to see the lemurs!

You and Mingi pile into the backseat of an open-air Jeep and a driver takes you around one of the wildlife refuges

You two have the time of your lives looking at all the animals, grabbing each other and pointing when you see a new one

He’s smiling so big the entire time, and his happiness is contagious

You both sleep in late every day just because you can--no alarms, just birds twittering and sunlight filtering through the blinds

Waking up in each other’s arms, nestled under a layer of soft blankets

All you have to do is open your eyes, and Mingi is right there, sleeping soundly with the corners of his mouth turned up

His hair is tousled and he looks so peaceful

That is, until you try to get up to make breakfast, and he refuses to let you get out of bed

He doesn’t even wake up; just throws one arm around you and hugs you tight, humming in his sleep with a little pout on his lips

You can’t help but smile, and relent to his cute charm

An hour or so later, when both of you wake up, Mingi kisses you all over your face

It’s the best way to say “good morning” in his opinion, and you’re pretty sure he’s right

Another day, you do a guided hike through Amber Mountain National Park

There are even more lemurs, and many other animals

The air is so clean you can’t even believe it, and peace seeps into you with each step further into the lush, green wilderness

You stop to swim in an emerald pool at the foot of a small waterfall, and your guide steps away to give you a moment of privacy

You get close to Mingi, resting your hands on his shoulders and pressing your forehead to his

The water flows softly around you, but Mingi is your rock--steadfast and comfortable to you always

He kisses you sweetly, and you feel any tension he might have had leaving his body with each deep inhale

Your favorite moment from the trip, however, has to be your journey to the Avenue of the Baobabs

The Baobab trees have long been a legendary symbol of the African wilds, but seeing them up close in reality is its own level of breathtaking

Nothing could have prepared you for just how massive the Baobabs are, towering above the horizon as you approach in your tour Jeep

You’re dropped off at the beginning of the path that winds through hundreds of the giant trees, and told to meet back there in a couple of hours

Mingi pulls you down the trail excitedly, telling you that if he had to be a tree, he would be one of these

You snap your favorite photo ever that afternoon

It’s a picture of Mingi, grinning widely, hugging a Baobab (or trying to, since that particular tree had a diameter of about fifteen feet)

He looks so happy, almost childlike, and the joy just radiates off of him

That picture gets framed the second you return from your trip, and it’s also the lockscreen on your phone

Although your days are spent visiting every destination on the island, your evenings are a much-needed quiet time to recharge

You and Mingi snuggle up for a movie some nights, and other nights you drink on the porch and listen to the sounds of the jungle

Sometimes you get distracted from the movie or the scenery, and kiss Mingi a whole bunch instead

He’s more than willing to pull you close, and even carry you off, when you whisper something sinful in his ear

But no matter what you get up to, his love and sweetness are in every touch

Whether you’re out and about, or enjoying a quiet moment to yourselves, his arm is around you always, and you never have to ask twice for extra kisses

Wooyoung

A beach resort in Turks and Caicos seems like the perfect place to go with Wooyoung

Hear me out-- it’s got music and tourists that are just as loud as he is

Crystal clear, bright blue waters greet you as the two of you hitch a ride from the airport

All the windows in the cab are down, because it’s sunny and just the right kind of warm

Salty sea air fills your lungs and the wind breezes through your hair

You’re given complementary rum punch when you check in, and it’s the perfect start to your trip

You and Wooyoung drop your bags off at the room and immediately change into your swimsuits

The resort backs right up to the beach, so you run out in your sandals, hand in hand as you make a beeline toward the water

The sand is hot beneath your feet, but you don’t even notice because you’re so excited and the water! is so! blue!

You crash into the surf seconds later, the warm water swirling around your legs

You wade through the water until you’re chest deep, then kick up your feet and float on your back

There are no breakers, nor boats allowed, in the calm waters of the bay, so you float in the soft blue for a little bit, content to just let the tide wash you back to shore in whatever timeline it sees fit

You reach out at the line between sea and sky, meeting the skin of Wooyoung’s arm

He’s still standing, staring in wonder at the paradise around you, but he takes your hand without thinking

He’s your anchor, letting you float without drifting away

You spend the next several hours going back and forth between the sea and the sand, finding beach chairs to lounge on while you lay in the sun

As the sun starts to fall in the sky, you decide to head back to the room to shower off and get dressed for a fancy dinner

You’re minding your business, rinsing the shampoo out of your hair, when the bathroom door opens and Wooyoung pokes his face inside

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. It’ll save water,” you respond, smiling

Woo sheds his swimshorts and joins you, slipping in as fast as he can to keep the steam inside the glass door of the shower

You massage shampoo into his hair, enjoying his little hums of appreciation

He rinses it out while you wash your body, and you stand behind him as he washes off too

His back is to you and you openly stare at the water running down his back

You feel heavy, relaxed, from spending all day in the sun, but there’s one thing that could make this afternoon even better

Once all the soap is off of him, you step forward and kiss the spot between his shoulder blades

Never a stranger to your unspoken wishes, Wooyoung leans his head back as you kiss your way up to his shoulder

When you can’t reach any more, he turns and kisses you, hard

He’s got one hand snaked around your waist and the other holding your face to his

Your arms are around his shoulders in a heartbeat, and he backs you against the tile

It’s cold, but the warm water is still running between your bodies, giving you shivers

Wooyoung breaks the kiss only to kneel in front of you, throwing your leg over his shoulder

He brings you to the edge with his mouth, then stands again, keeping your leg hitched over his hip

When he fucks you, you’re worried that people are going to see the scratches on his shoulders the next day at the beach

But eventually, you can’t be bothered to think about it, and you lose yourself in his touch instead

You come apart shortly after, chests heaving and skin pressed to wet skin

A little while later, you’re toasting one another over dinner

The restaurant offers many amazing local delicacies, and Wooyoung insists on hand-feeding you at least half of them throughout your trip

There’s live music every night at the resort’s restaurant & bar, and Wooyoung doesn’t think twice about pulling you with him to the dancefloor

You’re not overly confident in your dancing skills, but Woo pulls you close and shows you some simple steps as other couples join around you

After a couple of songs, you’re able to get into the groove of the funky music that the island loves so much

Wooyoung’s smile is all you need to know you’re moving the right way, and you dance to a few more songs before going back to the bar counter for more fruity drinks

The two of you continue to get tipsy, then walk to the beach and make out in the sand like a couple of teenagers

You’re both giggling between kisses, digging your toes into the sand, and existing purely in the moment

Everything is sweet, from the taste of pineapple on his tongue to the heady aroma of plumeria blooms in the trees

Every day is a beach day in this place. You’ve never had this much fun, splashing and playing in the water, laughing nonstop

One afternoon, Wooyoung is passed out on a beach chair under an umbrella, lulled to sleep by the day’s warmth and the sounds of the ocean

After taking a picture of him to giggle at later, you get an idea

The air is fragrant with the sweet smell of the thousands of flowering bushes that are planted throughout the resort’s grounds

Nobody would miss a few of those flowers, would they? If you were to, say, pluck some and decorate your husband with them?

You slip away from the chairs and your sleeping Woo to gather a few blooms from the nearest row of landscaping, returning with sweet-smelling handfuls of them

You giggle to yourself, putting the flowers all around Wooyoung’s head like a little halo of yellows, whites, and pinks

He doesn’t even notice them until he wakes up, gets back in the water, and sees a bunch of petals in the surf around him

You laugh and take photos of all of it

Being on a catamaran at sunset, sitting side by side with your head on his shoulder

The sky is painted in vivid oranges and reds, and Woo’s hand rests on your thigh, his breathing slow and even next to you

The wind is a bit cool on your wet skin, but the sun still delivers warmth, and you inhale the smell of saltwater on Wooyoung’s skin

He turns his face slightly to kiss the top of your head, and you smile knowing that his love for you comes without him even having to think about it

As the boat smoothly cuts through the water, you feel completely at peace

You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, and it’s hard to think about your life turning out any other way than this moment, with this man

Jongho

Buenos Aires, Argentina

Incredible local food, soccer matches, constant music, breathtaking city scenery--it’s a neotropical dream

First of all, Jongho is amazing to travel with

Being the eldest of his family, he’s well-prepared with a bag full of snacks, meds, toiletries, headphones, and neck pillows for both of you

He looks so cute on the flight, snuggled up in his complimentary blanket and neck pillow

He’s pouting in his sleep and you take several photos just because

When you get to the hotel room, he bravely offers to carry your luggage up the stairs for you

But he makes you wait at the bottom of the stairs so that he can come back and scoop you into his arms

Because he insists on carrying you bridal-style at every opportunity, starting with your arrival to the room

It’s a suite on the second floor, with its own balcony overlooking the main walkway below

You can look out over shops and restaurants and bars, all the nightlife in one place

You change out of your airport clothes, then venture out to grab some drinks and go shopping-- the boys had bullied Jongho into promising that he’d bring back gifts

The two of you are buzzing by the time night falls, but your feet are sore from walking and you’re exhausted from the flight

So you grab some food to-go from one of the restaurants and take it back to the room

You chow through dinner with the balcony doors open, allowing the music and chatter of the streets to carry in on the soft, warm breeze

Going into food comas immediately after eating, you and Jongho pass out on top of the covers, facing each other with hands clasped in the middle

You wake up to brilliant sunlight and Jongho’s arm thrown over you

He’s your life-size teddy bear, and you snuggle closer to him for warmth and comfort

When you both get up and around, you surprise Jongho with tickets to this year’s Superclasico-- only the biggest soccer match in Buenos Aires!

Jongho tries to play it cool, but you can tell he’s absolutely giddy at getting to attend a sports game while he’s here

He loves soccer, after all, and he can’t stop smiling the entire way to the stadium

He practically drags you by the hand to your seats, which are so close to the field that you can hear the footballers yelling to each other

Jongho doesn’t sit down a single time during the game, shouting excitedly in Korean even though he doesn’t know anything about these teams or who to root for

He’s just glad to be there, and it’s an absolutely fantastic match

On your short walk home, he’s got so much energy from being amped up by the game that he stops you on the sidewalk and tells you to get on his back

You blush profusely, but who are you to say no? Besides, you love seeing him be this carefree

The two of you stick out like a sore thumb in the streets of Argentina since you’re giggling like crazy and he’s singing to you in a language that definitely isn’t local

You indulge in some amazing street food before going back to the hotel and getting ready for the evening

He got tickets to a theater show, and it gives you an opportunity to get all dressed up

Your husband looks so handsome in his casual suit, and when you walk out in your dress, he’s holding roses

The show is wonderful, and you’re both part of the standing ovation it receives

You throw off your shoes when you get home, but there’s so much excitement outside that the night is hardly over

Standing on your balcony, listening to singing in the streets and bars below, with Jongho’s arms around you from behind

This man clearly did his research before coming here, because he actually knows some of the songs in Spanish and you bet your ass he serenades you as musicians pass by below

There are fireworks some nights for no apparent reason other than that the city exists to be a technicolor celebration of life

There is no better place to start this marriage, and no better person to be married to