#ill do it better next time. and try to do my other cousins too

[assassin-artist]

Decided to give a shot at making a mock screenshot with my own SH cousin, Petra. There's a lot of mistakes and a lot I should do differently next time, but I still like this version enough to share (:

[4milly]

on wat you on. z.f

fuck my nigga, he ain’t shit! boy ain’t good for nun but dick, flodgin like you wit yo niggas, pussy boy you wit that bitch.

parings: zilla fatu x black!reader

warnings: TOXIC ASS RELATIONSHIP LMAOO it’s all i’ve ever known this might hit close to home tbh. cheating, name calling, smut.

where the fuck you at? 12:24AM

let me find out you with yo hoe ass friend shakin’ yo ass and imma be on 10. 12:25AM

missed call from: Z<3

bro now you really got me fucked up. turn yo lo back on, bro. 12:27AM

yo. on my life, don’t make me come find yo stupid ass, ma. 12:29AM

(6) missed calls from: Z<3

i told yo ass i fell asleep at jey’s house yet you still wanna do the fuckin’ most and shit. but nah. you tryna listen to what janay ugly ass wanna say instead of me tho. might as well be fuckin’ her. 12:34AM

i really don’t give a fuck bout’ what you saying nigga. i’m on whatever you on. you fuckin them lame ass hoes anyways…so wassup fr? 12:36AM

ight. bet. 12:37AM

coo. 12:37AM

“girl! fuck his trifling ass fr! i’m tryna have a good time!” your friend, janay, yelled over the music in the club

“you right. i’m not even tryna get on that with him forreal. it’s whatever.” you declined zillas next call before powering your phone off completely. he wanted to take it to the next level? let’s see who finishes the game.

he kicked the shit off the night prior by not only not coming home, but going to the club all night with his cousins without telling you. to further push shit to the fam, he was on instagram live acting like he didn’t see your phone calls, or comments but replying to other thirsty ass hoes.

the last year and a half for you and zilla already had been rocky. him wanting to always be a hypocrite. he took issue with you going out and partying and dressing sexy as you wanting attention from other dudes, especially if janay was involved. yet with the rising popularity of his cousins in the WWE, all eyes were on him. the son of the late umaga currently creating a name for himself, straying away from the shadows of his family. that created a shit show as more female fans appeared.

him greeting them, smiling, creating more conversation than needed, following them on instagram, liking their tweets, giving them free tickets all kinds of shit. he stressed how it was just him trying to create his image to get his name more popping…lying ass nigga.

zilla loved the attention. especially from Aaliyah, a promoter at a local wrestling venue trying to recruit him for a match. she’d always make sure to show up in the tinest baby tee from the target toddlers section, low rise jeans showing off her tattoo near her midsection, a butterfly belly piercing, and lipgloss giving zilla ‘fuck me eyes’. he ate that shit up, too. smiling—making sure every diamond from his grill was flashing—making jokes, and laughing. you knew how important it was to zilla to join his family, but he couldn’t do that without being a friendly ass nigga?

everytime you brought it to his attention, it all started and ended the same. an argument until he fucked you into submission until tears streamed down your eyes making you forget exactly what causes the argument. you’d be cool for a few days and it’d all repeat again.

“ight yall. this next one for all my ladies in here lookin realll and i do mean reallll sexy.” the dj spoke before mixing the current song to get it sexyy by sexyy red.

the club wasn’t the place to nurse a broken heart. but having your hair, makeup, and nails done looking good? you felt better anyways. the music was a plus.

“cmon! i’m tryna dance. ill deal with that nigga tomorrow.” you tossed back your drink before grabbing janay and heading to the dance floor

you begin throwing your ass back without a care in the world. whatever it caught just happened. you knew your poster girl dress left little to the imagination, but that was neither here or there right now.

you felt hands slide across your ass bringing you towards someone’s lap. liquor taking over you backed into the dude behind you throwing your ass onto him and grinding. he got to excited as he pressed his growing erection onto your ass. while dude definitely wasn’t getting any play, you hoped someone was recording or was a friend of zilla to show him two can play the game. the dudes hands palmed over your thighs are you leaned against him letting his head fall into your neck, the strong smell of henny coming from him.

“damn baby. you tryna get fucked in the back? all this ass forreal. bet that pussy good ass fuck, too.”

“nah. i got some in the back for yo ass tho.”

your eyes went wide as the dude was snatched from behind you. you quickly spun around to see him getting punched in the face by zilla.

how the hell? who the hell, actually?

“what the fuck is wrong with you? why would you do that?” you yelled, uselessly shoving him backwards

“shut the fuck up and getcho ass in the car. yo ass got me so fucked up.” he yelled grabbing your wrist to drag you out the club

“nah! i’m good. get the fuc—“

“yo man, i ain’t know she was yo bitch. she lookin like she was ready to take some.”

zilla moved back towards the guy delivering another punch to his eye landing him back onto his ass. he grabbed your wrist back into his tight grip pulling you outside the club.

“get off me!” you snatched your arm back from him

“this the shit you doin! dancing with another motherfucka like a hoe knowing you got a man? this why ion want you with her ass! she put you up to this bullshit!” he yelled looking over your shoulder glaring at janay

“nigga fuck you. i wouldn’t have to convince her of shit if your toxic ass wasn’t a liar! what makes you think she wasn’t gone go out tonight to nurse her heart after you wanted to be with some groupies on ig live?” janay responded with just as much hatred for zilla

“mind yo fuck ass business. you deadass? i told you what i was doin! where i was!”

“the next day in the afternoon? oh so you just man of the year? fuck you.” you gloated rolling your eyes

“watch yo fuckin mouth talkin’ to me like that. i ain’t having this conversation out here with you either. get in the car.”

“what so you can go to the club with random bitches but i do it? im a hoe? i’m the problem? you’re crazy.”

“oh so you in there giving other dudes some play? like they finna line up for pussy cause you got an attitude? ight. bet.” zilla opened the passenger seat to his car eyeing you “getcho stupid ass in the fuckin car. you ain’t about to be out here tryna give some other dudes some pussy on some independent revenge shit.”

“ugh! fuck!” you grunted into the mattress as zilla plowed into you from behind

“nah, you wanna be big and bad right? take that shit like a good girl, ma.” zilla breathed out placing his foot ontop of the bed giving himself more control to pull your ass backwards, “throw that shit back, ma.”

your mind couldn’t even put 2 and 2 together from his rhythm, so his request went unanswered. his hand roughly came down on your ass cheek making you gasp, “what i say? hm? throw that ass back like you was on ole dude.” his hand came down on another slap before you began to throw it back onto him

“yeaaa, that’s right. look at that pussy. only dick she’ll ever know. had that motherfucker’ thinkin he was finna get some tonight. thought my baby was gone give him some. you was gone give him some baby?”

“ah! n-“

his hand came down on another slap making your pussy clench around him in a death grip.

“tight ass pussy. you was gone give him some of my pussy? what belongs to me?”

you couldn’t shake the feeling overpowering your anger. your pussy aching for that release, you knew your man was going to give you. each thrust had a small sting as zilla was forcing you to take all of him without allowing you to adjust for a moment. zilla not only had a big ego, but a big dick to match it. each time feeling like the first of getting fucked. zilla was a whole lot to handle and sometimes you needed a moment to take him in before he got started. but tonight was different. you ran your mouth off and he was once again, fucking you into submission and near amnesia to sweep the nights activities under the rug.

the car ride was filled with spiteful words. soon as you got home, you grabbed a duffle bag deciding you couldn’t do it anymore. you couldn’t take him wanting to be a hypocrite, an asshole, and being friendly. you were over it. calling your bluff, he yanked the duffle bag out your hand.

“you ain’t going no fucking where. sit the fuck down and take them panties off. running yo fuckin’ mouth. put that ass in the air, ma.”

“you really think, i’m about to give your bitch ass some? nah! let that other bitch get your dick wet. fuck you!”

“there is no other bitch. you think i’m letting you go over some bratty ass attitude you got? you wanted to get fucked tonight right? let me give you whatchu want. get them panties off.”

all it took was for you to raise your dress up to ur hips for zilla to see you had no panties on, for you end up in your current position. dress torn to shreds around your body, him naked, and pumping his dick into your pussy with no mercy, making you take every inch he had.

“whatchu was on tonight? wearing no panties? you like making me like this shit huh? you worried about me fuckin’ her, all i’m worried about is fuckin’ you. but you wanna be annoying and shit.” he grunted before speeding up his thrust

“shit! zilla—ssss—wai—“ you hissed out as you pushed back against his abdomen at an attempt to get him to slow down

“this wet ass pussy, nawl. you wanna be grown, showin yo ass, right? take this shit.” he pulled both your arms back into his wrist pinning them against your back. he rammed his dick into your tight space, using the advantage against you.

your sobs bouncing off the walls with the noise of your pussy squelching with every move of his hips. you couldn’t stop leaking like a faucet onto his dick. your juices connecting you to his lap as your ass rippled with each draw back. zilla gathered some of your arousal onto his thumb before pushing against your 2nd hole; it immediately clenching onto him.

“shit, baby! oh! ohhhhhh myyyy goddd.” you moaned at the feeling

your expression was priceless. teary eyes, pouty lips, and whines with the sheets coated in drool at how your pussy had a tight fit around him as he pumped. it felt too good. zilla quickly averted his attention to the ceiling with his lip in between his teeth; he was about to nut watching your pussy squeeze him. tonight was about teaching you not to fuck with him. while he crossed the line in your head, you crossed the fuck out of it in his.

“fuck, ma! i love this pussy. you was gone take her from me?” he panted speeding up “this pussy ain’t goin n’where. you ain’t going n’where.” he moaned out “takin’ me all good and shit. whining about how big it is. you can take this dick—keep that back arched f’me.”

“mmmmm.” you cried out feeling your nut rushing towards you. if he didn’t slow down soon, with his dick and his thumb, you were gonna make a mess all on him and the bed

“you wanna cum, ma? you think you earned it?” he asked removing his thumb and grabbing your hair to pull you towards him. his hand lowering towards where you both were connected and rubbed your clit in circles making your mouth open on a scream “who owns you? who this pussy belongs to?”

you tired to form a sentence in your head—anything! to please him to let you cum.

“who owns you? whose pussy is this?”

“yours.” you croak out in a small voice throwing your ass into his lap chasing his high

“nah.” zilla bends you forward again pushing at your back for your arch, “you wanna cum f’me? show me how bad. get that nut, ma.”

you placed your hands onto the bed before reversing the roles and fucking yourself with his dick. your body shuddering as you pushed yourself onto him.

“whose pussy is this? you ain’t cummin’ till you tell me.”

“mmmm fuck! yours zilla! it’s your pussy! a—i’m cumminggg ahhh.” you collapsed—temporarily loosing consciousness—to the bed as you gushed around his dick, your pussy convulsing around him mimicking your body as you thrashed on the bed babbling. zilla following behind you flooding your pussy with his cum. he let out a moan watching it spill out around the sides.

he wrapped you into a bear hug, panting deep into your ear as your bodies shuttered. he released a deep guttural moan as his dick kept twitching with spurts of his cum still shooting out.

“you ain’t going no fuckin’ where y’understand me? this pussy stayin right here and so is you,” he panted into your ear “you’re mines. no other fuckin’ dude. remember that shit. im yours. and you mines.”

“if i catch you talking to those groupie ass bitches again. imma cut all of yall. i mean that shit.”

zilla let out a chuckle as he pulled out of you. he bit his lip at the sight of your pussy pushing out whatever it couldn’t fit inside onto the sheets.

“i know, ma. i know.” he responded before heading to the bathroom.

even though you were in and out of consciousness fighting sleep, you didn’t miss him grabbing his phone out his pants pocket before.

you heard the sound of the shower running, nearly tuning his voice out, “…yea…just put her to sleep. have them panties off f’me when i get there. y’know how i want it, baby…you and janay getting all this dick t’night, aaliyah. t’care of each other fore’ i pull up. wantchall ready fa me. betta be wet too…ight…on the way.”

FA THE PLOT???? 😭. i wanted this have a cute ending but my trauma wouldn’t allow it LMAOOOOOO. 2 FICS IN ONE DAY IS CRAZYYYY

[dried-mushroom]

My Queen

Aemond 'one-eyed' Targaryen x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, incest (uncle & niece), oral sex (m receiving), public handjob, fingering, missionary sex, porn with plot, short slow burn, Aemond is head over heels for you, soft! Aemond

Enjoy!!!!!

You were the firstborn daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Harwin Strong. No stark resemblance to the knight as do your siblings, as you were the only one born with silver Targaryen hair. This made you stand out compared to your brothers, as their heritage was a common topic for gossip, and they did not have a single feature from Ser Laenor, your mother's betrothed. You were still considered a true Targaryen and not a bastard child nonetheless.

It had been years since your family had been back to Kings landing, years since you'd seen your uncles, Aegon and Aemond. You had less than fond memories of the older prince as a teen, he was always trying to get you alone and mentioning how he could satisfy you better than any other lord or knight. You often ignored his words but sometimes he was just too vile to bare.

His brother on the other hand intrigued you. He was much quieter than Aegon, but he spoke to you often. Usually, it was only small talk when you ran into the prince. You honestly didn't mind, as you may have developed a liking for the younger prince. What you weren't expecting was he already wanted you for himself.

The clearest memories between you and Aemond were when your brothers and your uncle decided to tease him about his lack of claiming a dragon. You knew how cruel Jace and Luke could be, as they enjoyed making your life harder so to speak. You lectured them both when you found out what they did to Aemond and searched for the young prince.

When you found him perched against an old oak tree, with his head in his hands, you sat next to him. As he turned to face you, you could see how red and raw his eyes were, obviously from crying. You tried to apologize for your brother's behaviour but he didn't want your pity, instead, he told you not to worry, and that he would make sure he gained a dragon. He didn't enjoy being harsh towards you and apologized later that day by gifting you a book with a note inside.

Another less fond memory of your prince was the night of Lady Laena's funeral. The entire day had an aura of gloom, and you could tell the tension was tightening between your family and Aemond's. Rhaenyra and Alicent were clawing at each other's throats every time they were close and the rumour that your mother had birthed four bastards was certainly a rumour that the HighTowers were eager to entertain, just so that your mother was seen as an untrustworthily whore.

Yet you remained close to Aemond, usually strolling around the grounds of the castle together or watching him train to duel with his brother and Ser Criston. But that dreadful night something changed, that night he finally got one of the two things he always wanted; to claim a dragon. Vhagar, Laena's dragon was sleeping peacefully until Aemond woke her, and through his bravery and her compliance, He successfully bonded with her by commanding her to calm herself and serve him in High Valyrian.

He quickly got the hang of it and rides the dragon around High Tide before landing. Vhagar was the biggest dragon in Westeros and the most powerful of any dragons the Targaryen's had. Whilst his little flying escapade, Laena's daughters noticed his absence and could hear the familiar roar coming from their mother's dragon, so they rushed over to Jace and Luke to help them find who had stolen the dragon, which was meant for the eldest Velarylon girl, Rhaena.

You were resting against a cold stone wall, seemingly fazed, when your younger brothers and cousins rushed up to you and told you about your uncle. You suddenly recalled hearing the familiar noise of the dragon and Aemond had excused himself from you as he 'felt ill' earlier. You trailed behind the four as they went to inside the castle searching for Aemond. When they spotted the young prince, they all started arguing over who had a claim to the dragon. You stayed behind them, not entirely wanting to be there.

Without a second thought, Rhaena hit Aemond for an insult he had said to her about her mother, but the latter was stronger and threw her to the ground. Your brothers quickly joined in the fight. Jace pushed Aemond to the ground and he broke Luke's nose somehow. You felt conflicted, about who to defend; either your brothers or the boy you've liked for what seemingly felt like eons.

You tried to get in between Luke and Aemond to break them up. Aemond wasn't thinking straight and accidentally hit you with a rock he had in his hand, to use on Luke. As soon as he realised what he did he dropped the rock and started apologising profusely, but Jace thought it was the perfect time to get revenge on the prince for hurting his big sister and stealing their cousin's dragon, as he threw sand into the boy's eyes and Luke slashed the boy in the right eye, blinding him.

You quickly snapped out of your pain haze and quickly rushed over to the wailing boy, whose face was now covered in blood. You couldn't believe what your brothers had done. Everything became a blur after that moment, you remember blood soaking your light-coloured dress and guiding Aemond through the castle to his mother. Him clutching you tightly, still muttering apologies to you, your relatives spewing their disgust at you for aiding the prince.

The last time you and the prince spent time was the most memorable. It was the day your mother remarried to her uncle, Daemon. You, Jace, and Luke were told by your mother that you all would be leaving for dragonstone and to say your goodbyes, the handmaidens would pack your belongings but be ready to leave King's landing before noon. This sudden news upset you heavily as you would be separated from Aemond and your friends for God knows how long. You wandered around the castle soaking in each and every detail as if it were the last. You made your way to Aemond's chambers, worried about his reaction to your leaving.

The both of you got incredibly closer ever since that fight, seemingly you both were joined at the hip, always sharing longing glances that teetered on the border of platonic. Once you reached the door and knocked, the familiar face of your blonde prince greeted you, eagerly letting you inside his room. You picked at your cuticles, not wanting to share the news with Aemond. He noticed the disdain on your face, and spoke "What's wrong, Princess Y/N?" you sighed, "Mother wants me and my brothers to travel to dragon stone for some time, she told us to say our goodbyes and to be ready to leave at midday. I'm so sorry." His smile faulted, as he took in your words.

He felt almost ill, his beloved was leaving so abruptly, he didn't know what to say, as he knew he couldn't sway Rhaenyra. Without a thought, he closed the gap between you both, slowly pressing his lips to yours, in a tender kiss. He gripped the fabric of your dress, either in a plea to hold you even closer or to keep you with him even longer. You couldn't help but feel something hard pressing into your thigh, your cheeks were ablaze when you realised what that something was.

You broke the kiss, knowing you didn't have much time left. He must have realised and quickly retrieved something from one of his drawers. It was a small bracelet, decorated in emeralds, the Hightower colour. You couldn't help but smile a little as he slipped it around your wrist. You gave him one last peck before saying the last words you'd say to him for the next six years. "Please write to me, or maybe even visit, I won't forget you, I beg you to do the same, goodbye my prince." "I will my princess, don't doubt it. Goodbye y/n." You left his chambers, not realising his brother was waiting outside his door.

Aegon grabbed your arm tightly and whispered in your ear. "You're leaving? fuck sake, why can't Rhaenyra just send the twats you call brothers away, she really wants to torture me. " You tried wiggling out of his harsh grip, but he wouldn't let go, "You know, I get so fucking hard when you cross my mind, I can't stop thinking about you swollen with my seed, being my little whore and no one el-" Aegon's perverted wishes were quickly diminished as your younger brother called out your name from the entrance of the corridor. Aegon released your arm but said one last thing, "Goodbye my betrothed." You knew that was a sick joke, Aemond had already told you that Aegon and Helena were already betrothed. He just really wanted to fuck with you. You muttered a goodbye with gritted teeth and rushed towards your brother and out of the castle.

Six Years Later:

Your mother and Daemon had decided that it would be best to visit Kings Landing once again, for your ill grandsire and to reaffirm Jace as the heir to the driftwood throne. You wouldn't mind being back at King's landing once again, this time as an 18-year-old woman, you were soon destined to be betrothed to some lord or knight. Another reason would be to see familar faces, such as Helaena, both of you were close. The Velayron girls you missed as well, as they were always sweet to you.

The two men you were dreading to see were Aegon and Aemond. Aegon for the most obvious reasons, he is a fucking pervert. As for Aemond, he in a way broke your heart. He promised to write to you but never acted on that promise, you had written three letters to the prince but he never wrote back. All those years, not one fucking word to you.

At first, you were deeply hurt but you came to understand that you could not let such a foolish thing belittle you as you were to be heir to the iron throne once your mother became Queen, you could not be seen as weak. You begged your mother to let you ride dragon back to the castle but she insisted to take a carriage, to your disappointment. Later that morning you all set off.

When the sight of the familiar castle came into your vision, you became an internal puddle of emotions, relief for finally being back home, happiness for finally being able to reunite with old friends and uneasiness for seeing the boy you loved, a man. Once the carriage abruptly stopped, you all stepped out and you let out a sharp exhale as all the Targaryen decorations that you remembered had been replaced by religious symbols.

Your stepfather made a few comments about Queen Alicent and her father was behind that, humourous but wasn't appropriate. You all were greeted and You, Jace and Luke were allowed to wander the grounds for a while. You found yourself walking near where the duelling practice was taking place and heard the smooth familiar voice belonging to Aemond.

"Nephews, You've come to train?"

You couldn't help but sigh gently when you saw how attractive Aemond had become. His hair was twice as long (more to pull on), and he was more toned and adorned with a black eye patch from the accident between him and your brother. As you walked closer to Aemond and ser Criston, you took in how skilful Aemond had become with a sword.

You joined your brothers and when Aemond saw you for the first time in years he almost forgot what he was even doing. That's how mesmerizing you are to him. Once he managed to make the Knight yield he strode towards you three. Aemond hadn't seen you in six years and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, how your beautiful blonde hair framed your face, how your eyes were just as vibrant as they were and he couldn't help but let his eyes linger over your figure in your black & red dress, how he could get a glimpse of your cleavage as he towered over you.

"My niece, how I have missed you."

His tone was sultry and he gave your hand a quick kiss before giving your brothers a nasty look.

"Jace. Luke. Can you give me and your sister a moment alone?"

They raised their eyebrows but walked away leaving the both of you alone. He sighed before grabbing both of your hands into his.

"My dear y/n, Before you speak, listen to me. I never wanted to break that promise I made to you all those years ago. Alas, my mother had other thoughts, she forbade me from any contact with you."

"But-But why? I never did anything to offend her?"

He knew how you felt, his mother was a confusing bitch. Wanting to place Aegon, a drunk who regularly commits infidelity, as King on the iron throne. Instead, he believed he himself should have a claim to the throne. He was the one who studied history and philosophy. He was the one who trained with a sword. Oh, what he would truly do to be King and have you by his side as his Queen.

"Her reasoning seemed uncouth, as it was since you were the daughter of Rhaenyra and bare no resemblance to Ser Laenor. My mother decided that you would be unfit for me. But I couldn't go one day all those years without a thought of you trickling into my mind. Hm, you're still wearing that?"

You looked down at your wrist and couldn't help it as the blush rose to your cheeks at his words, it was the gift he left you on your last day spent together, he felt an odd sense of pride knowing you still cherished that simple bracelet. He pulled you into a tight embrace with your hands still in his grip. His large arms wrapped around you almost lovingly, and he rested his head upon yours. He murmured into your hair but before you could ask what he had said you both were interrupted by a sharp feminine voice.

"Aemond! come here. We need to talk"

And with that, Aemond sighed before releasing you to follow his cunt of a mother. You turned around to find Daemon smirking at you and laughing as he walked away, and you could tell that today would be interesting, to say the least.

Once the clock struck midday, most of everyone had made their way to the throne room to start their petitions for the heir to drift mark. Your grandsire was too sick to sit on the throne so Otto and Alicent were the ones listening. You followed your family and stood with your younger brothers. Once Vaemond, your technical uncle had proposed he be the heir to the driftwood throne which had made your entire family worry as you all knew that the Hightowers were going to do anything in their power to weaken your family. But you couldn't help but smile when you noticed how Aemond was looking at you from across the room.

When it was finally time for Rhaenyra to speak for your brother and as soon as she started the doors opened to the throne. You all turned and saw your grandfather, struggling to walk down the stairs to his place on the throne. Daemon helped his brother onto the iron throne before letting him speak. The king had reaffirmed your brother's place on the driftwood throne and you were extremely happy for him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him how happy you were for him. You couldn't see how Aemond balled his hands into tight fists of jealousy, he didn't enjoy seeing you touching any other males, nonetheless, the boy who took his eye when they were younger.

After that gruesome turn of events, you were expected to go to a family dinner, your family and the Hightowers together how could that possibly go wrong? That evening you had walked into the dining room, lit up by numerous glowing candles. You noticed how almost everyone had been seated and there was an empty chair beside Aemond. Once you sat down, you saw how he looked at you, abashedly adoringly. He leaned down and whispered in your ear.

"I can't wait for tonight, I have something special planned for you. I know you'll like it."

You shivered as his warm breath trickled down your neck. You both shot back up once you heard Alicent cough loudly. You both noticed how Luke was staring almost disgustedly at the scene in front of him, but Aemond just smirked at him knowingly. In the middle of Alicunt saying grace, you felt a warm hand on your skirts. Your eyes flicked open to meet Aemond's closed ones, he seemed awfully proud of himself. What he wasn't expecting was to feel your hand gently brush against his growing erection. You watched how his breath hitched as his mother finished saying grace. As each family member conversed with one another you were trying not to concentrate on the hand trailing up your inner thigh to your arousal.

"So y/n have you been betrothed yet? I have just never seen you with a suitor yet."

Helaena's words broke you out of your haze, you stumbled around your words.

"Uh, not yet haven't. I feel as if men just are not so attracted to me."

You didn't notice Aemond's slight disappointment at your words, as you knew how much he adored you, inside and out.

"Well I'm sure you'll find someone soon, don't worry marriage isn't so appealing as it seems"

The subtle insult to Aegon made you laugh, a sound Aemond treasured. He truly enjoyed seeing you happy, he also wanted to see the noises of pleasure you'd make, squirming on his cock. He took his middle finger and trailed it over your underwear, just over your wet slit. You let out a quiet mewl but contained yourself quickly as you remembered where you were, you glared at Aemond but found him already looking at you. As food was brought out one plate by one, you took the opportunity to seek a small sliver of revenge. When a servant placed a whole roasted pig in front of the both of you, bad taste in your opinion. You popped open Aemond's pants and slipped your hand inside and into his undergarments to pull out his already leaking cock. You both were concealed by the meal in front of you and the large white tablecloth.

You lazily stroked his cock, every so often you'd spread the pre-cum gathered on his tip, making him grip your thigh hard in desperation. He honestly didn't think you'd do this to him, he only had imagined you doing such things to him in his more...personal fantasies. What he was planning to do under the table would have to wait but he'd repay you back generously. After some looming stares, your grandfather spoke for one last thing before he passed, to have one evening with his family with their grievances put aside. Your mother had commended Alicent on her loyalty to her father and her devotion to her husband and Alicent had returned her graciousness, saying she would make a fine queen. Everyone drank from their cup. You kept your pace while everyone seemed finally happy to be in each other's presence, everyone was smiling and laughing with one another, unknowingly witnessing you jerk off your uncle under the table.

Aemond knew he wasn't going to last long as you were so good for him. He loved how you were pleasuring him, and he honestly loved how no one even noticed the debauched action you both were doing. You stroked him one more time before he let out an extremely loud groan and he came, warm spurts all over your hand. You sighed internally and meet the disturbed faces of your family. They all knew what you had just done to Aemond and how Aemond fully enjoyed it. Without a second thought he put himself away, dragged you out of your chair and out of the room. The entire room was silent until Aegon laughed loudly and congratulated his brother earning multiple stares of disapproval.

You and Aemond ran out out of earshot and leant against the cold wall of a stairwell, breathless. You couldn't help but laugh about the situation you both put yourselves in, rightfully you both just scarred your entire family and knew the lectures you were bound to receive the next day. The first one to speak was Aemond, stumbling around, trying to figure what he would say until what he had spend all day planning popped into his head.

"Thank you my princess. I truly enjoyed that, shall I repay the favor?"

"What are you offering my prince?"

Aemond took your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. He met your soft gaze before leading you up the stairs into his chambers. When he opened the door, you saw a simple (choice of flower) on the edge of the bed next to a small wrapping of parchment paper. You wondered how in all of kings landing how he knew your favourite flower. He guided you towards the bed and sat down, you subconsciously played with the petals of the flower now in your lap. Aemond places the small wrapped into your hand,

"Open it, I know you'll like it."

You took Aemond's words and carefully unwrapped the gift. You couldn't believe it, it was a beautiful ring, gold with small emeralds engraved on the sides.

"My dear y/n, Will you take me? be my Queen?"

You nodded eagerly as you pressed your lips to his.

"Of course my King."

He pulled you into his lap, his hands wrapped around you deliciously. You couldn't help but moan as he slid his tongue into your mouth. He had a tight grip on your skirts, pulling you closer to the hardness in his pants. He broke the kiss to trial small bites over your neck, leaving a purple trail in his wake. He couldn't help himself but grind you down on his lap, trying to get as much friction as he could. You were more than happy to reprociate. He mumbled curses under his breath as he layed you down onto the soft sheets, taking in your debauched beauty. He slowly unzipped your dress, pulling it off completely, leaving you only in a pair of undergarments. He could feel his cock twitch just looking at you, and he was on his knees infront of you, and lazily stroked himself through his trousers, tempting himself.

He quickly made work of his vest and the white shirt underneath. He was about to get rid of his pants but before he could even reach the button, he felt your mouth against his bulge, his hips bucked against you at the warm feeling. He squeezed his eyes shut as you pulled out his cock once again and this time wrapped your mouth around his tip. He moaned in ecstasy at foreign feeling, he couldn't help but thrust into your mouth, trying to chase more. You braced both your hands onto his thighs as you took more of his dick. He absolutely loved you like this; you were so beautiful it hurt. You could tell by his stuttering hips that it wouldn't be long until he came, you gave him one more long lick up his shaft and pulled his weeping cock out of your mouth. You could see the slight disappointment on his face but you reassured him.

"I want you to cum in me."

He groaned when he heard those debauched words leave your pretty mouth. He couldn't wait to ruin you. You laid back down, and he laid himself above you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. He slowly rubbed the tip of his cock languidly over your glistening slit, teasingly.

You whimpered, already too stimulated for his teasing, "please"

"Please what? You need to use your words."

"Please. I need you to fuck me."

Without a second thought, he slowly pushed his hips forward, entering you, you let out a gasp at the feeling of absolute fullness. Aemond let out a shaky breath, finally getting to feel you after longing for you for years. Aemond begun to thrust his hips quickly, You arched your back, as lewd sounds erupted from your mouth and cunt as the pleasure increased.

Groans escaped Aemond as he could feel your cunt squeezing him so tight, his platinum locks framed your face as he continued his ministrations. You could feel the tip of his cock bumping your cervix with every thrust, he tantalizingly dragged his cock out and in, pressing deeper and Aemond let one of his hands wander to your clit, fumbling the bundle of nerves in delicate circles

Aemond ducked his head between your tits, licking the mounds and swirling around your bouncing nipples. They grew more sensitive. He pinched one nipple and took the other in his toothy mouth, nibbling and sucking at your flesh.

"Oh fuck Aem, I think I'm going to cum."

Aemond practically whimpered against you, a beautiful sound, he broke away from your chest,

"Cum on my cock, my Queen."

The combination of the abuse on your pussy and tits, that tight coil in your stomach finally fucking snapped and you gushed, all over Aemond's cock and naval. It didn't take a minute more for Aemond to fill you up with his seed, you felt the warm spurts of his cum inside you and couldn't describe the feeling you felt, was it adoration? Was it love? you couldn't tell as he slipped out of you, leaving your pussy clenching at nothing and he laid beside you. You rested your head on his chest and gazed up into his eye, he whispered lovingly;

"I cannot wait until we are married on Dragonstone and you swell with our children."

You let yourself fall asleep unaware of the arguments that you and Aemond will deal with in the morrow.

The end

This was a draft from last year but since Hotd season 2 will be released I knew I NEEDED to post this. Hope y'all like it.

[bullet-prooflove]

37)   I think you should come live with Me

Carmy berzatto 🎇

Tagging: @kmc1989 @wabi-sabi1090 @lostinwonderland314 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219

Companion piece to:

The Farm - Carmy recalls the day you met.

Good People - Richie and Carmy discuss a potential relationship with you.

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Something Important - Carmy knows the two of you have something important together.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

Doing Something - Carmy owns up to something he's been doing without telling you.

“I think you should come live with me.” You say to Carmy one morning when the two of you are at the farm. You’re wrist deep in the dirt, planting the next season’s lettuce and he’s trying to dig out the next row of holes for the seeds to go into.

The two of you have been out here every day this week with a groups of volunteers, setting everything up for the new season. The Beef is currently undergoing renovation so Carmy finds himself with pockets of free time and there is nowhere else he’d rather be than here at the farm. He enjoys the physicality of work, the fact he’s creating something that other people will benefit from and the satisfaction of seeing something grow.

“You sure that’s something you want to do?” He asks you as he jams the shovel into the soil.

You pause, your head tilting up to look at him. His brows are furrowed as he fixates on his task, his white t-shirt pulls taut over his muscular biceps as he hefts out the dirt. He does this when he’s faced with something he isn’t sure how to process. He becomes hyper focused, blocking out everything else.

“It’s fine.” You say softly. “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”

“It’s not that.” Carmy responds, using the back of his wrist to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “I just…”

He trails off and you wait patiently for him to find the words.

“For a long time good things didn’t happen for me. I was in a job that consumed my soul, sleeping on my cousins couch, being violently ill every moment of every day and then Mikey…”

He shakes his head as he leans on the shovel, stuck firmly in the ground.

“I’m not used to things going so well and I guess I’m scared that if we move into together you’re going to wake up one morning and realise that I’m not it for you and that thought, it’s terrifying because you’re it for me. You are the only person I ever want to be with-”

He cuts himself off then because you’re raising to your feet, brushing the dirt from your jeans. Your arms come to wrap around his waist and he inhales, breathing in the earthy scent that clings to your skin as he holds you close.

“You’re it for me Carmen Berzatto.” You say, your fingertips brushing across his clean shaven cheek. “You’re the only person I ever want to be with too.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[throneofsapphics]

the ebb and flow of fate epilogue 

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five)

Cazriel x f!Reader

Summary: “Pure silence filled the room, and Feyre shifted on her feet, wondering if maybe she’d crossed a line.”

Warnings: illness, mentions of violence, death, & blood

A/N: I’m sad this is over, but I've really enjoyed writing it. thank you all so much for your love on this little series <3

She took a deep breath,  steeling herself for this conversation. “When I die-“

“We don’t know -“ Cassian interrupted.

“Please,” she cut him off. “Just .. I need to say this.” 

His mouth tightened, but he nodded.

“Don’t give up. This world still needs both of you,” she swallowed harshly. The tears had already come. 

“And it doesn’t need you?” Azriel said, voice breaking half way through. 

“The world doesn’t get a choice, with me.” 

Cassian ran one hand through his hair, gripping hard enough she thought he might tear it out. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.” 

She snorted. Azriel’s eyes narrowed, he didn’t find this amusing, not one bit, but he knew laughter and humor was one of her coping mechanisms. 

“Do you think I want to die?”

“I didn’t say -” She held her hand up, and Cassian’s mouth slammed shut. Her mouth quirked up at the corner, well trained. Azriel rolled his eyes. She did hold both of their leashes, but he wouldn’t tell her that. 

“It’s happening. I refuse to insult myself or the healers pretending otherwise,” she reached out her hands, palms up, and they each took one without hesitation. “If you want to be angry, do it when I'm dead or not looking. I’m the sick one, you have to listen to me.” 

Cassian looked like he was about to disagree, thought better of it, and pulled her into his chest. “We’ll see who’s listening to who tonight,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair. 

-

Pure destruction stood in front of him. A killing field. Some parts scorched, raw power incinerating everything in its path, others still coated with blood and mismatched body parts. There would be no identifying who had fallen. 

Rhys would never be glad his cousin died, not in millenia, but he’s glad she didn’t have to see the war waged. She’d died weeks before it broke out, and triggered a deadly rage in both Cassian and Azriel. One the world might never see again. 

-

They never missed starfall. 

“You’ll still get to see me once a year.” She waved her hand towards the sky, about to say the most ridiculous love-sick words he’d ever heard, “I’ll be waiting for you, my spirit still traveling between worlds. We’ll find each other in whatever comes after, in the next life, maybe even shoot through time and space together.” 

Cassian’s mouth quirked up at one corner, before he picked her up and spun her in circles until she flicked his wing. 

Cassian braced his forearms on the railing, eyes fixed on the sky. “Which one do you think is her?” He didn’t need to look to know Az was right beside him. They asked this question every year, and each time came up with a different answer. He liked to think she was switching forms, maybe trying to play a joke on them, or play another game. 

-

Azriel peered down in the Cauldron again, after pulling Amren out. He’d hoped, foolishly, that she might be in there too. 

He knew Amren, even spluttering and catching her breath, caught his movement. Azriel tried to avoid her, but she eventually caught up to him and Cassian.  

“She wasn’t there,” the sorrowful, almost pitying, look in her eyes pissed him off. 

“I didn’t ask,” he said coolly. 

“Maybe not,” she assessed him. “But there’s your closure.” 

“What … what does it mean, she wasn’t there?” Cassian asked. 

“It means her soul isn’t trapped in limbo.” 

Azriel really, really didn’t want to speak about this, but Cassian kept going. “So she’s moved on?” 

“No,” Amren said sharply. “It means she’s waiting for you idiots,” Amren really never missed the chance to throw an insult in there, “in peace.” 

Cassian caught Azriel’s eye. In peace. It was a small comfort, like a bandaid stuck on a gaping wound. He knew she wanted him to move on, to go find his “peace,” but it was never the same without her. An empty space inside of him he couldn’t fill. For years, he avoided every reminder of her, did everything he could to drown out the screaming abyss threatening to tug him under. It took Cassian to pull him out, to knock some sense into him and tell him she’d be pissed off. 

-

“Cassian and Azriel had a mate.” Rhys told her quietly. Feyre paused. The sorrow in his voice threw her off. Had. 

“What happened?” She asked softly. 

“She died. Y/n was my cousin, Mor’s younger sister.” 

A part of her heart shattered. She hadn’t known he had another cousin, or that Mor had a sister. They never spoke of her. Feyre didn’t … she didn’t like that. Not that she hadn’t been told, but that they weren’t keeping her memory alive. Maybe that was unfair of her, all things considered she hadn’t been around them that long, and some wounds never truly heal. 

“Will you show me her?” She let Rhys read the silent request in her eyes; I’ll make a portrait. Her mate swallowed, before giving a short nod. 

Winter Solstice came, and to say Feyre was nervous would be an understatement. She���d decided to pull Azriel and Cassian aside before, not certain if they’d want a vulnerable moment like this in front of the rest of them. 

She handed them two identical portraits, wrapped in soft paper. 

Cassian shot her a grin, “Finally take up the offer to paint me in the nude?” 

Feyre snorted, huffing out a laugh. “Open it.” 

They both did. Pure silence filled the room, and Feyre shifted on her feet, wondering if maybe she’d crossed a line. 

For the first time, she felt like she could see every raw emotion going through Azriel’s features. 

Rhys had shown her a specific image, the three of them perched on the roof of the Townhouse, her feet swinging back and forth over the edge, a glass of wine in one hand. Azriel’s shadows subtly pinning her - keeping her from tumbling into the rose bushes. She leaned to the side, Cassian standing trying to snatch the glass from her - a wide grin on his face. Azriel watched from behind, amusement lining his features. An open emotion she hadn’t seen frequently from the male. Her mate had flown in, catching the perfect angle. 

Cassian carefully placed the painting on the table - like it was made of pure gold, and wrapped her in a tight hug. 

taglist: @infinitely-kate @foreverrandomwritings, @anuttellaa @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @justasillylittlegoofyguy, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @bookishdeer @sidthedollface2 @mis-lil-red, @acourtofbatboydreams @blessthepizzaman @hallucynatiing @summerloversposts @i-am-infinite @fanfiction-for-my-soul, @brandywineeeee, @oktievia @inloveallthetime, @sleepylunarwolf

[blossom-hwa]

a very fine line, indeed [5] | c.bg

pairing: Beomgyu x fem!reader genre:  fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, regency era!au, nobility!au warnings:  cursing, period typical misogyny word count: 9k notes:  — updates every M/W/F at 8pm EST until the series finishes — inspiration taken from an amalgamation of different bridgerton stories - let me know what easter eggs you find! — story takes place in the same universe as my duke!yeonjun and earl!taehyun fics - check out the link to the series below for some more easter eggs :) In a society where it only takes a year for a young woman in search of a husband to be considered out of season, it is no wonder that by your third year out, you are desperate to marry. Known as one of the beauties of the ton, such a task should not be difficult for you—but with an absent father, no dowry, and a reputation centered around your inability to keep your mouth shut around one certain Beomgyu Choi, your prospects are more limited than you’d like. While you cannot recover your family or your wealth, however, the one thing you can try to control is your reputation. So when the third season rolls around, you resolve to keep your distance from Beomgyu Choi, your childhood enemy, and the man you hate most in the world. Enter Beomgyu Choi, second son of the Kensington Viscountcy, one of the most eligible bachelors in the ton. His older brother, cousin, and good friend have all recently married, leaving the mamas to salivate at his doorstep for the chance of marrying one of their daughters to him. When Beomgyu walks in on a particularly traumatizing moment between you and one of the most unsavory men in the ton and learns of your desperation to marry, despite your history of enmity, he proposes you a devious deal—to pretend to court you. It seems like a winning situation for both of you—more gentlemen will take notice of you, enhancing your prospects, and he will have the ton’s mamas off his back—and so, despite your misgivings, you agree. With you hell bent on marriage and Beomgyu completely indifferent to the concept, even independent of your hatred for each other, it seems unlikely that any sort of true affection will bloom. But as you begrudgingly put aside your differences to spend more and more time in one another’s company, and as you grow to know each other beyond your ill-conceived preconceptions from childhood, you begin to realize that perhaps you two have more in common than you had once thought. And as your faked acquaintanceship becomes more truth than fiction, a friendship beginning to bloom most unexpectedly— Perhaps you no longer need to convince the ton of the veracity of your courtship, because anyone with eyes can see that it is true.  Part 4 >> Part 5 >> Part 6

Series Masterlist | TXT Masterlist

Beomgyu has certainly said this before, but he actually means it this time when he says he would rather be anywhere than where he is now. Even the Smythe-Smith musicale. 

It would be hilarious, the fact that he’d rather have his ears tortured for an hour and a half than be here at an objectively much better performance, except he’s been walking through a fog of annoyance, anger, and misery for three days, and during that time he hasn’t been able to find much humor in anything. 

The worst thing is that it’s all his fault. 

He was the one who suggested ending the courtship, after all. He was the one who said it would be best. And, objectively, it is the logical course of action. You have a suitor—several, in fact—and while beginning this farce might have been what drew them to you, continuing it for too long might actually drive them away. It was logical. Rational. 

Too bad emotions have nothing to do with logic. 

Beomgyu sneaks a glance at you where you sit next to him, eyes fixed on the scene in front of you. You look to be the perfect model of attention, your gaze riveted on the two dancers as they sweep across the floor almost as one entity of eight limbs. You were completely unfazed earlier, too. When you met, you at least had seemed unperturbed by anything that happened during the last promenade. If Beomgyu hadn’t already known you were a superb actor, he’d have been entirely convinced of your performance. 

He wonders if you are truly so engrossed in the ballet now, or if you are acting just as well as before. 

Not that it matters. He pinches himself. The courtship is over, or at least it will be soon. And at that point he won’t see you again—not on purpose, at least. He has no business trying to figure out what your emotions are about this change of events. What reason would you have to be anything other than pleased, anyway? This whole agreement was just for your mutual benefit. Nothing more, nothing less. 

But you didn’t look pleased when he said it. Granted, he wasn’t looking at you for most of the conversation but from the few glances he snuck at you when he was sure you wouldn’t return his gaze, you looked more shocked than anything. Maybe not shocked, but at least surprised, and not in a way that screamed excitement. Though to be fair, your expression didn’t really scream anything then. You seemed mostly blank up until you asked to end the walk early. 

Briefly he entertains the thought that you might also be unreasonably upset by the end of this courtship. Just like every other time he’s done this, he shoves the thought away. It’s no use wondering. You wouldn’t tell him, anyway. 

Sighing quietly, Beomgyu turns his attention back to the performance, where the dancers have since separated to opposite corners of the floor. He watches, momentarily dazzled, as they twist and weave their way back to each other sinuously, sensually, until finger by finger, arm by arm, they find themselves entangled in each other’s embrace once more. A collective gasp rises from the room as they come toward each other so suddenly that Beomgyu almost thinks they will collide—

But they don’t. They stop quietly, foreheads coming to touch, faces so close that if one leaned forward even slightly, they would kiss. 

Tiny whispers permeate the room, and Beomgyu sees more than a few glances being directed at the queen, who sits, stone faced, in the seat of honor. This is perhaps the most sensual performance the ton has ever seen. He thinks it was beautiful, a lovely display of human emotion in its rawest form, but some of the more conservative members of the ton might not think so. The queen leads the social scene in London and her reaction will dictate what the papers say of this—he wonders what she might be thinking behind her usual blank mask. 

The queen’s blank mask reminds him of another and without thinking, he looks over at you. He expects much the same reaction—you are good at keeping most of your emotions off your face, after all. But instead of the politely entertained expression he expected, you look somewhat startled by the scene before you. Surprised. 

Flustered, even. 

Beomgyu turns away to hide a twitch of his lips. He hadn’t thought about how you would react to the blatant sensuality of the piece, but it’s more amusing than he expected. Your eyes wide, your lips slightly parted, your gaze riveted on the scene like you aren’t sure whether to be enraptured or disgusted…

It’s cute, in a way. He might even say adorable. 

Someone begins applauding and you jump. Beomgyu has to hide his smile as his own dutiful claps join those of the crowd. From where he sits he can see the queen stand, a smile coloring her features as she leads the applause, and he breathes a short sigh of relief. The Rosenburys are a good family. He would have hated to see them shunned if the queen disapproved of this performance. 

The crowd begins to disperse after that, filtering off into different rooms for refreshment and chatter. Later there will be some dancing, but for now he leads you towards a table filled with small glasses. They need some time to set up the ballroom floor before he can join you in your perfunctory one dance of the evening. 

…He shouldn’t have thought of that. Now his earlier ugly mood has just returned. He allows himself one grimace before schooling his features back into careful pleasantry. “How did you enjoy the performance?” he asks with practiced neutrality, handing you a glass of water. God, he really hadn’t noticed just how much levity you two could share before he shattered it with just a few words. “I have never seen the like.”

“Neither have I.” You stare at your glass, but to his surprise, Beomgyu doesn’t think you’re purposely trying to avoid his gaze—at least not now. You still look somewhat in awe of what you just saw. “It was…something else, truly. I think I enjoyed it.”

“I think I did too,” Beomgyu replies truthfully. Then he smiles, hiding a little smirk. “You looked rather flustered. I gather you haven’t seen something so romantic before.”

You scowl. Beomgyu welcomes the sight—at least it’s far more familiar than the calm neutrality you showed him earlier in the evening. “I wasn’t—flustered,” you snap. “I just…”

One second passes. Then another. You still seem to be floundering for words so Beomgyu takes the lead—to tease, of course. “You just what?” he asks, unable now to hold back his smirk. 

“Well—in the end, they were about to kiss.” Beomgyu bites his lip to hide a real smile at how flustered you look now. “I mean, I know people kiss—”

“I should certainly hope you did.”

“—but—oh, be quiet—but they don’t do it in public.” You shake your head as you and Beomgyu walk over to a quieter room, leaving the noise of the main hall behind. “You can’t tell me you see people kissing everywhere. Of course I would have been flustered.”

Beomgyu has perhaps seen more of it than he should, but he is a man and you are a lady. He cedes your point. “I tease, my lady,” he says, taking a sip of his own glass. “But beyond the near kiss, I thought the rest of the piece was beautifully done, and honestly quite tasteful.”

“So did I.” The two of you stop by a tall table and place your drinks down for a rest. A few others are in the room, mostly minding their own conversation and business. For a moment, Beomgyu thinks about the fact that no one even bats an eye at the two of you holding civil conversation in the same room anymore. Then his sour mood from earlier threatens to return and he abandons that train of thought completely, because this sort of scene won’t be happening anymore in a few weeks. 

God, what does it say about him that he would rather be arguing with you for the entire ton to hear than be absent of your company from now on and forever?

You’re speaking again, so Beomgyu drags himself out of his thoughts and back to the present in time so that he might actually respond to your words instead of making a massive fool of himself. “Even the near kiss,” you’re saying. “It was all part of the story. I’ve read books and been to the opera, of course, but that was the first time I’d seen anyone express a story with such love without words and just through…the body.” 

You look almost shy when your words are done and over, but Beomgyu can’t find it in himself to tease you this time. Maybe because you were so earnest when you said it, because it is more touching than you realize that you would allow him to hear your thoughts in this moment and he doesn’t want to embarrass you for it. Maybe because he’s just glad that the stilted pleasantry of earlier seems to be gone and you are speaking like normal acquaintances again. “I agree,” he says quietly. “It is rather beautiful to see the different ways people use art to express themselves.”

You glance at him sidelong. “You are a true appreciator of art, then.” It isn’t a question, and he can’t really read the look in your eyes. 

“I’m not really,” Beomgyu admits. “At least I wasn’t before. But the duchess is a connoisseur of the classics and music, Lord Kang’s wife is quite literally a world renowned pianist, and Mr. Huening is an accomplished painter, so between the three of them it is now somewhat difficult to escape the influence of different arts around me. Not that I would truly want to, though.” He pauses. “Art is interesting because it captures the pieces of the world in a perspective unique to the artist. As I grow older, I think I find myself appreciating those new perspectives more and more.”

You look at him, a glint in your eye. “You talk of your age like you are an old man, Mr. Choi.”

He scowls, but relents at the softness on your face hidden behind that glint. “I am no old man,” he sniffs. “But I cannot deny that I age by the day.”

“So you cannot.” You laugh a little. “I jest, Mr. Choi. I agree very much with your perspective.” Your eyes take on a faraway look. “I sometimes wish I could experience such a story in my own lifetime,” you say, almost to yourself. 

Beomgyu peers at you. “Everyone has their own story, Miss L/N. Just because it is not immortalized in some art form does not mean it does not impact the world in some way.”

“Oh, I know.” You wave a hand. “It’s just—watching the dancers, I felt so taken by the scene in a way that I have never felt in real life. I suppose the only times I have felt such deep emotion are when I care for Delia and Henry. Or if I am angry.” You snort a little. “That seems to happen more often than it should. I just wonder what it would be like to love as deeply as the dancers seemed to.”

“You have never been in love before?” Beomgyu asks softly. 

“Well, I have loved.” You shrug. “I love Henry. I love Delia. But romantic love…no. I have not. And I honestly do not know if I will ever have the chance to pursue it.” Your laugh turns self-deprecating. “Likely I will not.”

Beomgyu feels a little sick inside. He’s not really sure why. There’s a measure of guilt, he thinks, for having played a part in your somewhat shattered reputation over the past two seasons, as well as a fair amount of sympathy and anger for your situation at home. But there’s another feeling, something fluttery and sticky all at once in the pit of his stomach that he really does not understand. And he doesn’t have time to sort it through—not that he really wants to—because you’re talking again. 

“It just seems so beautiful, the way other people tell of it. True love, I mean.” You stare deep into your glass and Beomgyu isn’t sure you know that you’re talking to him anymore. “I don’t know if I will ever experience it. I mean, sometimes I wonder if I will ever even be kissed.”

Beomgyu blinks. And blinks again. 

You clearly notice his silence because embarrassment floods your features and you look away. “Apologies, Mr. Choi. I did not mean to say that out loud.”

“No need to apologize,” Beomgyu gets out. “But…Miss L/N, I am sure you will be kissed. You will have a husband. Surely he will kiss you.”

“Maybe.” You shrug, looking somewhat depressed. “I certainly hope so. But I assume that would only happen if my husband loved me enough to do it.”

His head is spinning. “Would your husband not love you?”

“I have no idea,” you snap, voice lowering to a quiet hiss. “Mr. Choi, you of all people know very well that I would marry a man even if he did not love me.”

Right. Evil stepmother, and all that. “Of course. I apologize.” He pauses, trying to sort through everything that you’re talking about and all the thoughts he’s having. “But one does not have to love someone to kiss someone,” is all he points out in the end, because his brain is just not working right now. He can’t even blame it on the alcohol because he hasn’t drunk at all today or this week. 

“Yes, but—” You groan before muttering, “This is so embarrassing.”

“What is embarrassing?”

You groan again. “I don’t want to say it in front of you.”

Beomgyu raises an eyebrow. “If I may, Miss L/N, I’m certain Lady Whistledown has immortalized far more embarrassing things that you have said to me in her gossip column. Besides—” He cuts himself off before he can say more, hoping you won’t notice. 

Unfortunately, you do notice. “Besides what?”

He’s a damn idiot for saying anything at all, because you certainly won’t let him off without getting the answer out of him now. “We aren’t going to be seeing each other in a few weeks,” he says quietly. “So whatever you say now, you wouldn’t have to face it after a month from now.”

A short silence fills the air, along with a vague tension that isn’t as sharp as the one he felt in the park, but still makes him feel somewhat will. You break it first. “Well, when you put it that way…” Your smile looks more like a smirk and there’s something brittle to it that Beomgyu doesn’t quite know what to make of, but you continue before he can try to figure it out. “You aren’t wrong.”

“I’m never wrong,” he says, trying for his usual casual air. It doesn’t quite work but you take the bait with some seeming relief in your eyes. “I could count probably a hundred times you were wrong, and at least half of them are printed in Whistledown,” you snipe. 

“Well, if I’m not wrong this time, then tell me.” Beomgyu gestures to you. “What is so embarrassing that you couldn’t want me to hear it out of your own lips now?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. “Well, if you truly must know…” You sigh again. You won’t quite meet your eyes and against his will, Beomgyu finds your embarrassment somewhat endearing. “It would simply be nice to be kissed by someone who loves me, and whom I love back. It is the stuff of romantic dreams, is it not?”

“…I don’t really know, Miss L/N.”

You scoff. “Of course not. You haven’t a romantic bone in your body.”

Beomgyu narrows his eyes in affront. “Who brought you those gloves, hm?”

You open your mouth to reply. Then you close it. “Point taken,” you finally admit. “But my previous point still stands. I’m sure it is the dream of half the ladies of the ton—or more—to be kissed in a moment as emotional as the performance we saw earlier. Half of the men, too.” 

“…I take your point as well,” Beomgyu says. 

You shrug halfheartedly, embarrassment still coating your every movement. “It’s a stupid dream. Nothing much of it.”

He wants to say something to take the despondence out of your voice, but for a person who prides himself on always having a witty comeback, Beomgyu finds himself at a loss for words now. You don’t seem like you really want help with this, anyway. There isn’t much he could do to help with your plight even if you did. 

“I’m sorry,” he says in the end. “I wish I…” He trails off, then decides to try for some levity. “I wish I could help, though I’m not sure what I could do beyond kissing you.” He expects you to laugh.

You do not laugh. Instead, you look at him with a gaze oddly blank but also full of something he can’t discern, and ask, “Are you offering?”

Dead silence falls between you two. And in that silence, Beomgyu realizes now that you are the only two left in the room. Everyone else has gone. The door is open slightly for propriety’s sake, but this room is somewhat removed from the rest of the party, and—

Why is he even thinking about any of that? It’s not as if this would happen. It’s not as if you are really asking him to kiss you. 

Kiss you. 

All of a sudden Beomgyu can’t look at anything but your lips. Can’t think of anything beyond what it would feel like to have them against his—to hold you by the waist, pressing you closer to him as your arms wrap around his neck, his mouth swallowing any sounds you might make as he pulls you as close to his chest as he can. 

Dear God. Beomgyu feels somewhat faint. This is very dangerous territory. The logical part of his brain is screaming for him to disengage, to laugh it off and get out of the room as soon as possible because if he says the wrong thing (or the right thing? Is there even a right or wrong in this situation?) there will be no going back. But a deeper, more insistent part of him that isn’t lodged just in his brain but also in the beating of his heart urges him to rise to your challenge. To take the chance to have your lips and body against his. 

He's never felt this way before. He’s only been to a brothel once and he left before anything could happen because the idea of having intercourse with someone he barely knew repulsed him more than he ever expected it would. But even beyond that, even with his female friends and acquaintances, he has never felt this way. Never wanted anyone like this. Not once. 

“Do you want me to offer?” he asks quietly, and something in his chest sends a burst of warmth rippling throughout his body. 

You swallow, but your gaze remains steady. “I asked you a question first.”

And so you did. Beomgyu wonders if he should press his own suit, but something in the set of your features tells him he won’t receive a single answer until you’re satisfied with his reply. Warmth burns in his chest. “I cannot offer you the love you seek,” he says frankly. “But, if you would like…”

You hold yourself very still. Even the air seems to await his sentence to finish.

“…I could help you with a kiss.”

Silence drops between you two. You swallow again and Beomgyu follows the movement of your throat with his eyes, trailing it down from your lips as he cocks his head. “So I ask again,” he says quietly, “do you want me to offer, Miss L/N?”

For a long moment, you stay quiet. Long enough for the air to become stifling, long enough for the rational part of Beomgyu’s brain to regain some more control, long enough for him to come back to his damn senses and realize that this is going in a direction he won’t be able to control for long. Or maybe he’s already lost control. Either way, this can’t continue or you’ll both end up doing something you regret. “I apologize. I forgot myself.” He turns away, ready to flee. “I know our courtship is going to be over soon and I should not have suggested such a thing—even on my honor, I should not have—”

“Yes.”

Beomgyu blinks. A very unflattering noise that sounds like “what?” comes out of his mouth but he barely hears it, blurry, like he’s been submerged underwater. 

You swallow hard. “You asked if I wanted you to offer,” you say quietly. Something tremors in your voice but you meet his eyes. “And I said yes.”

He gapes in a way that is likely extremely unflattering, but you don’t seem to notice. “So?” you say, jaw set with what looks like determination, but Beomgyu can see the slight embarrassment tingeing your features the longer he says nothing. He’d tease you if he had the presence of mind to but he doesn’t, so he only extends a hand. 

“Come here.”

You shuffle forward, steps uncertain. “This means nothing,” you say quietly, more to yourself than him. 

He doesn’t understand why that deepens the sick feeling in his stomach. Of course this means nothing. It could never mean anything even if he wanted it to, which he definitely doesn’t. It’s not as if it’ll matter in a month anyway. “This means nothing,” he echoes, ignoring the pit in his gut in favor of taking your hand. 

The first thing he notices is that you are warm. He’s warm, probably too warm with the feeling in his chest, but when your palm touches his it’s as though a spark travels through his skin, up his spine. “Tell me what to do,” you mumble. 

Your words, for some reason, bring a smile to his face. “There’s not much to it,” he says. “It’s just kissing.”

“I know,” you snap, looking adorably embarrassed. “But I don’t know what to do with my hands. Or anything.”

Beomgyu smiles harder. “Put your arms around my neck,” he says. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

You take a breath. Beomgyu wonders for a moment if you’ll do what he said, but then your arms creep up, cautiously looping around his neck. “Like this?” you whisper, not looking at him. 

He can hardly answer around the sensation of your hands at his neck, palms flush against his skin. Warmth creeps up his face and it isn’t just from your hands, but he laughs, at himself and at you, a little bit. “Yes,” he says, curling one arm around your waist. You make a slight noise when your body hits his and Beomgyu might be delirious, but he swears that sound will be burned into his mind forever. 

You’re still not looking at him. Beomgyu chuckles slightly. “Miss L/N,” he says softly, tapping your chin with his free hand. “You’ll have to look at me to make this work.”

It takes an eternity for you to meet his eyes. When you do, though, Beomgyu finds himself mesmerized by them. Frozen in place by the heat of your gaze in the moment. His hand creeps up from your chin to cup your cheek. “Let me know,” he whispers, “if you ever want to stop.” He pauses for you to nod.

And then he kisses you. 

Your lips are soft against his. Warm, and impossibly sweet—not in taste, not exactly, but like candy, the longer he kisses you, the more he wants. He barely stops himself from letting a soft moan leave his lips but then you make a noise, soft and whiny and wanting, and almost reflexively he pulls you even closer than before. Your arms wrap tighter around his neck and you don’t protest. 

The rolling heat in his gut just flares brighter.

Beomgyu kisses you for seconds. He kisses you for hours. He kisses you until the sun sets and the moon rises, and then the moon sets and the sun rises. None of this is true but all of it is because that’s how he feels, kissing you now—like he could kiss you forever and never once tire of your lips. 

One of your hands creeps up into his hair, tugging it slightly, and he groans against your mouth. Nothing exists except you, now. Nothing but you and him. 

Air forces you to break apart in the end. If Beomgyu had his way he would just stop breathing rather than stop kissing you, but his body has other plans and forces him to pull away. His eyes had closed at some point. He doesn’t know when. He opens them now and when he sees your face, eyes wide, features slack, lips kiss-swollen and dark, he nearly crushes you against him again. 

He watches as you blink once, twice. Your expression stills and you seem to come back to earth. He watches your throat bob as you swallow hard, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “So,” you say, voice cracking slightly. “That’s a kiss.”

Beomgyu nods. “That’s a kiss,” he says, words lower than usual. 

Your eyes flicker around the room like you’d rather look anywhere than at him. Beomgyu doesn’t feel too bad about it because he thinks if you looked him in the eyes right now, he might combust. “We should probably go,” you say haltingly. “We’ve been gone for too long.”

He blinks. He’d almost forgotten just where you are and how compromising this position is. Then it really hits him—what he just did. Kissed you. Compromised you. At a party, a public event full of people when your courtship isn’t even real and is in fact supposed to end soon. Granted, no one saw, but someone very easily could have. The door is open, for heaven’s sake—he didn’t even close it—what is wrong with him—

“Yes.” The word comes out breathless, more air than sound. “Yes, we should…we should go.”

Slowly, you unwrap your arms from his neck. His arm slides off of your waist. And as the two of you leave the room, determinedly not looking at each other, Beomgyu can’t feel much else but the absence of your warmth against him. 

He feels a bit cold for the rest of the night.

. . . . .

It is a beautiful day out. The afternoon sun shines brightly through the windows, making the old curtains look almost cheerful, and when you and Sabine go outside to hang the linens to dry, the fresh but cold air stings your cheeks in the best way. Delia is playing in the small garden with Soyoung, and Henry hasn’t had a tantrum all day. In fact, he’s sleeping right now, and your stepmother has gone to call on some of her friends in town. By all definitions, it’s a wonderful day. 

Meanwhile, you are going insane. 

It’s been three days since the performance and ball at the Rosenbury house. It was supposed to be just another night out. You knew Lord Cho wouldn’t be there so even he couldn’t distract you from the specter of Mr. Choi looming over you, the knowledge that your contract courtship would end in just a few weeks. For all you thought about it, you couldn’t understand why you were so upset, and that just made you even more restless when you entered the estate and almost immediately locked eyes with him across the room. 

You remember polite but cool conversation. You remember feeling awful, having to keep a pleasant expression on your face all the while looking at the person you wanted to think about the least. You remember the performance being beautiful and romantic and lovely, so much so that you almost forgot your troubles, and you remember talking with Mr. Choi after and feeling a little better about it. At least, talking about the performance, you could forget about why you felt so wary speaking to him earlier. 

But you got carried away. You started talking about things you had only ever admitted to yourself, in your head—things you never thought you’d speak in front of someone else, much less Mr. Choi. You still don’t know why you said anything. Maybe it was just that once you started, you couldn’t really stop. Maybe it was because you knew you wouldn’t be seeing Mr. Choi in a month anyway, so you threw caution to the wind. You threw it much too far, though. 

You should never have let it get to the kiss. 

The kiss. You squeeze your eyes shut in the middle of tossing a sheet over the drying line. Even now you can’t stop the heat from rushing immediately to your face when you remember Mr. Choi’s eyes looking into yours, his voice low and soft, his arm around your waist and his hand against your cheek as he pressed his lips to yours. You felt so weak, then. But not in a bad way. There was a heat burning in your stomach that turned your legs to jelly and if it weren’t for Mr. Choi supporting you, you’re sure you would have melted into a heap on the floor. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of that day. You can’t stop thinking about it even now. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything—you said that, and so did he. But you’re beginning to realize that just because you might say something, that doesn’t mean it will be true. 

You resist the urge to scream. You really thought the kiss would be a one and done thing. Mr. Choi obviously doesn’t see you romantically and you were sure the same went for you. So why, even now, can you not think badly of the moment? As if it wasn’t enough to be ruined once? If anyone finds out that you two were left alone in a room, much less that you shared a kiss, you’ll be done for. You almost certain no one saw but you’ll have to be incredibly careful now not to let anyone suspect anything happened. In the wake of that moment, you’re not certain you can trust your acting skills to save you as much as you could before. 

God, why do you want him with you now? Why do you want him to kiss you again?

Sabine has gone back inside but you stay outside for a moment longer, sitting on the grass beneath one of the draped sheets. You would love to move and continue on with the day but your mind won’t shut up. The thoughts that you had been carefully keeping locked away in their little boxes in your mind are unraveling and if you don’t try to sort through them right now you’ll be a gibbering mess for the rest of the day—even more so than you already are—so you bury your face in your hands behind the fluttering white sheets and try to think. 

Mr. Choi can be an annoying pest. You have over a decade’s worth of arguments you can pull out immediately to prove this point. Mr. Choi, however, is not only an annoying pest, as unfortunate as that is. He can be very kind. Gentle. He loves children, as you saw with the duchess’s baby and with Delia—who still asks about him sometimes, and delights whenever he calls and she is allowed to see him. No one who adores children so much can be bad all the time. Not even he. And when he is kind, you can truly see the handsomeness for which he is so well known by the ton. It isn’t just an outward beauty, which you could admit even when you hated him. Physical beauty means nothing. But when you saw that Mr. Choi was truly a good person on the inside, too, he became that much more handsome to you. 

Focus. You pinch your wrist hard and the sharp sting clears your mind beyond Mr. Choi’s handsome face. He knows about your situation at home but did not press you to tell—instead, you were the one who felt comfortable with him enough, somehow, that you told him voluntarily. He did not laugh. He did not look upon you with shame or even pity. He only helped you clean your wounds, and then came calling when you didn’t expect it to give you new gloves because he knew then why hiding your hands was so important to you that you’d wear the same pair over and over for years when you couldn’t afford a new one. He even gave you salve for your hands. You weren’t lying when you told him your hands hadn’t felt so soft in years. 

He knows all of this. You were comfortable enough to tell him things you have never told anyone before, not even your closest friends. That scares you, and it brings back an old thought, one you used to view with irony but do now with a healthy dose of trepidation—that perhaps, because you have shown him the worst parts of yourself for so long, you have nothing else you need to hide. That perhaps, even before this season, Mr. Choi knew you better than many others did, even those with whom you are closest.

You trusted him to kiss you and not to take advantage of you. You trusted him not to say anything to anyone about it. You didn’t even think about it then—you were afraid your reputation might be unrecoverable if someone else saw, but never once did the idea that Mr. Choi would spread the news of your unintentional tryst even cross your mind. Because he wouldn’t, you are sure. He wouldn’t. For all the things that confuse you about him, his honor was never in question for you. He would never hold that moment over your head for anything. 

God, do you really like him? It seems like you do. You were unduly upset when he suggested ending the courtship soon, even though you knew it had to have been coming. You never wanted to think about it but maybe you really did feel that Mr. Choi had become more of a friend than you’d ever admit out loud. You pull your knees up to your chest and swallow hard, trying to digest your mental confession. It would explain a lot of things, at least. 

But would a friend think about another this much? All the time? And more importantly, would a friend want to kiss another this badly? Again?

Maybe you want him as something other than a friend. Something closer to a lover. 

Oh God. You scream silently into your knees. No. You’re not in love with Mr. Choi, you are certain of that. Absolutely certain. It wouldn’t happen—besides, it’s too fast. You couldn’t have fallen in love with someone you hated so much just months ago. Months. It doesn’t make any sense. There is no reasonable way that could have happened. 

Love doesn’t make sense, the traitorous part of your mind whispers. 

Against your will you remember the performance, the dancers and their strange, wild, beautiful movements that took them away from and towards each other. It didn’t make sense, but you knew the story was love, all the same. 

It doesn’t matter. You stand up suddenly, barely avoiding the wet end of a sheet about to slap you in the face. None of this matters. Because you are not in love with Mr. Choi, you know that for a fact. You would know if you loved him. You’re certain you would. Right now, you know that you don’t. And that is that. 

God, this is terrible. One temporary lapse of judgement and already you are such a mess. You have other things you need to be thinking about—namely the suitors who might still ask for your hand. Lord Kim called the day after the Rosenbury performance. Mr. Winslow came just yesterday. Lord Cho himself has come to call twice in the past week. Twice. Mr. Choi hasn’t even come once. 

Yet he’s the one your mind won’t shut up about.

Several hours later, as you descend from your carriage in front of the Bridgertons’ grand London townhouse, your mind still won’t shut up about him. If anything, you’re thinking about him even more because he’s also supposed to be in attendance tonight. You don’t really know how you’ll face him. You hope he isn’t here yet. 

You start walking up the front path, trailing slightly behind your stepmother who has already spotted one of her friends and is clearly eager to get away. Your fingers fiddle with your gloves—a bad habit that you’ve only noticed this season, but you can’t stop yourself right now. The gloves are the silk pair Mr. Choi gifted you. You really didn’t want to wear them today, not when your mind is already in shambles, but the Bridgertons are an esteemed family in town and you’re honestly surprised that you received an invite to their ball. This pair of silk gloves with the careful gold stitching is perhaps the only thing grand enough in your wardrobe for this event. Even your gown, which you had been refurbishing during the nights with new embroidery and patterns you’d gotten from older dresses, can’t quite live up to the elegance of the white silk Mr. Choi chose for you. 

You’ve been to the Bridgerton estate only once before, and the sight of the inside nearly takes your breath away. The viscountess has clearly outdone herself with the decorations—so tasteful and elegant, but never understated. You’re not the only one gawking, which makes you feel a little better as the crowd pushes you inside. Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself to be herded toward the ballroom. 

It’s a crush tonight. No one in their right mind would turn down an invitation from the Bridgertons except in an emergency and it shows. You lose your stepmother easily, which isn’t such a bad thing, but what you’re more worried about is the fact that you can’t seem to find anyone that really know. Mr. Choi is supposed to be here. So is Lady Choi and probably her husband, too, but you can’t see any of them yet. You wander the edge of the ballroom as people continue filtering inside, trying to seek out any familiar face, until someone calls your name and you turn around. 

Your initial hope at hearing your name crumbles into dust as you come face to face with someone you usually try to avoid at all costs, even more so than Mr. Choi. “Lady Trombley,” you say flatly, staring right into those narrowed snake eyes. 

“Miss L/N! What a lovely surprise.” She flashes you a bright smile that doesn’t fool you one bit. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

“Nor did I,” you say, curving your lips in the barest imitation of a smile. You hate her and she knows it, so you see no point in hiding your feelings. Honestly you wonder at the Bridgertons for inviting her tonight, but she is a titled member of society. Perhaps they had to for propriety’s sake. “I don’t exactly plan to see you anywhere, Lady Trombley. You just seem to be there.” Your smile turns sharp. “Hovering, you know. Like a fly on the wall. Or a snake.”

Lady Trombley covers her mouth with a hand, all dramatic shock, but your face remains politely neutral. When you promised yourself you’d be married this year, you only swore off arguing with Mr. Choi. Lady Trombley is a completely other story—she is just mean. Nasty. She slithers around society like a little snake, spitting venomous words into everyone’s ears like no one’s business. You may have a personal feud with Mr. Choi, but if you were to choose who you loathed more, it would be Lady Trombley by far. 

“Well, I only wanted to be kind,” she sniffs, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes. “After all, I truly thought you would have been married by now. You are quite a beautiful lady, Miss L/N…or at least, so society says.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I might say the same for you, Lady Trombley.”

“Is this not your third season?” she continues as though you hadn’t said a word. “Goodness, how time flies. I suppose beauty doesn’t matter much, then—at least, not compared to money.” Her eyes flash with triumph. “Isn’t it so upsetting when a lack of dowry prevents a beautiful lady from finding the match she deserves?”

“Truly,” another voice pipes up. Lord Grimson sidles up to her side, his eyes glinting with the same malice you saw in hers. “After all, it is one thing to bring in a beautiful girl with money. It is another thing entirely to bring in a beautiful girl with no money at all.”

“Your insults lack all imagination.” You huff out a laugh, keeping the fact that their words really do hurt you close to your chest. “Talking to you is like talking to a tree. Actually, a tree might possess slightly more intelligence than you—not to mention, more beauty, too.”

“Oh, I do not insult.” Lady Trombley holds her fan close to her chest as though surprised at your statement. “I only state what I see, Miss L/N. And what I see...hm.” She leans closer to you, her face suddenly appearing right in front of yours. Her voice turns into a hiss. “I see a lady with a pinprick of beauty and nothing else to show for it. No husband. No dowry.” A smile slithers over her lips. “No worth.”

Your smile drops completely. “Be careful, Lady Trombley,” you say evenly. “How many seasons were you out before you found your husband? Two? Three?” You smirk. “Perhaps, my lady, you and I are not so different after all. Though I’d fancy myself at least a pinch wittier than you.”

Her eyes narrow, and you can see her mouth opening to say something back. Not that it matters much to you, because you’re ready to bow out of this conversation without a goodbye, but then her eye catches on something or someone behind you and suddenly her whole face changes. “Mr. Choi!” she exclaims, and you freeze. Her gaze turns simpering, her eyelashes fluttering quickly. If you weren’t frozen at the mention of Mr. Choi’s name, you’d have half a mind to gag. 

You manage to turn just slightly to allow Mr. Choi into the small circle of conversation, but he doesn’t even look at Lady Trombley even when she addresses him directly. “I didn’t know you would be here, Mr. Choi,” she murmurs, voice a pitch higher than before. “Surely—”

“Miss L/N.” Mr. Choi dips his head to you without acknowledging Lady Trombley at all, very deliberately ignoring her and Lord Grimson. You blink once, twice—he’s given them the cut direct!—and only just manage mumble out his name in greeting. 

“I’m glad I was able to find you in this crowd. It is quite a crush tonight, is it not?” His smile, now that his face is no longer directed at Lady Trombley, has turned much softer. Sweeter. And all of a sudden you want to cry a little. You’ve managed to avoid enough direct confrontations with Lady Trombley and her crowd this season that you’d almost forgotten how terrible it feels to be insulted in public, and you know you can defend yourself, but it feels better than it should to have someone in your corner who might help you when you need it. “Might I escort you to the dance floor?”

Lady Trombley’s high voice cuts in before you can answer. “Surely the rumors are not true, Mr. Choi,” she titters. “You cannot possibly be courting Miss L/N!”

“I apologize,” Mr. Choi says, voice hard as he looks her directly in the eye. “Were you included in our conversation?” He offers his arm and you take it dazedly, letting him lead you away. 

A few steps in, you realize he isn’t leading you to the dance floor, but to a less crowded space at the edge of the ballroom. You’re grateful—you don’t really feel like dancing right now. “Thank you,” you mumble.

“Don’t thank me,” he says brusquely. “Lady Trombley is one of the worst kinds of people. I can’t abide her.” He shakes his head. “It was worth it just to knock her down a peg or two, though it seems like you had it handled before I arrived.”

“Well, it’s old news that I have no dowry. You would think they’d have come up with new insults in the meantime.” You shrug halfheartedly, trying to smile. It’s more difficult than you thought it would be. “Unfortunately, calling someone poor triumphs over everything. Even a terrible personality.”

“Your personality isn’t terrible,” Mr. Choi says sharply. 

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you admit it, Mr. Choi.”

He flushes a little. The sight makes it easier to smile—he looks rather cute. “Well, I’m saying it now,” he finally declares. “And it is—idiotic, to put someone down for a lack of wealth. Especially a dowry.” He snorts. 

You blink. “What do you mean by that?”

Mr. Choi scoffs. “Dowries are idiotic,” he says, loud enough for you to hear but not quite loud enough to carry. “It is incredible that the bride’s family should have to pay the husband’s to accept her, especially if the husband already has enough wealth to spare.” He shakes his head. “A stupid concept.”

You look at him for a long moment, trying to think of what to say. There are a lot of emotions spinning about your head and you’re not sure what to make of them. In the end, you give him a half smile and say, “You know, if we hadn’t hated each other for so long, we might have made a perfect match.”

Mr. Choi looks at you for a long moment, gaze inscrutable. You can’t read his expression but he seems to be looking for something in your eyes, though you’re not really sure what. In the end you don’t know if he finds it or not because he just gives you a little smile, pleasant and natural, and nods. “It’s a shame we got off on the wrong foot so badly,” he says, voice light. He looks away but you gaze at him a moment longer. If you didn’t know better, you’d say you saw a hint of disappointment, or something akin to it, in his eyes. 

But you do know better, so you ignore that thought and paste a smile of your own onto your face. “You said I didn’t need to thank you,” you say quietly, and he turns back. A wave of…something, you’re not sure what, passes over you, but it’s definitely not bad and feels more like gratitude and relief and maybe that earlier urge to cry, so you continue. “But I do. You…you are not the person I thought you were just a few months ago.” 

Mr. Choi stares at you so intently you almost lose your nerve, but you force yourself to say what needs to be said. It isn’t fair, after all, to allow him to keep thinking that you still believe him to be a terrible person all for the sake of your own pride. “Thank you for helping me just now. Thank you for the gloves. Thank you for not pitying me. And…” You take a deep breath. “I would like to apologize for my part in our childhood feud. I should not have thrown dirt at you, as angry as I was.” It’s too hard to look at him right now so you turn your gaze away, but you continue. “If I may, I’d like to really put that part of our childhood behind us. Not just for the sake of the deal, but in reality, too.”

For a long moment, Mr. Choi says nothing. His eyes rove over your face with an intensity you’ve never seen from him before. You remain still, letting him search for whatever it is he wants to find. “Then I must apologize as well,” he says finally, his voice quiet, though something brims in his words that you can’t quite figure out. “I should have apologized when I ruined your shoes. I should not have let it get to the point that you felt you needed to throw dirt at me to get your revenge.” One side of his mouth quirks up in a smile. “And thank you, Miss L/N, for being the first of us to put aside their pride to resolve this years-long feud. You are braver than I am.” He sighs, and it sounds a little like relief. “For what it is worth, you are not the person I thought you were before, either. I should like to move past our old feuds as well, for real this time.”

You feel like crying a little. You’re not sure which emotion is responsible for it—relief, happiness, gratefulness, or some mixture of all three?—but it doesn’t really matter. You can’t hide the smile blooming on your lips and you don’t have much desire to, either. You feel happier right now than you have in days. 

…Right. Now you’re remembering why you felt so moody over the past week. 

You tear your eyes from Mr. Choi’s face, and more importantly, from his lips. Your cheeks feel warm but with luck he won’t notice anything, as long as you keep your voice steady. “Mr. Choi, it is hard for me to admit, but I think…”

“Hm?” He blinks, suddenly looking very alert. You almost lose your confidence but you force yourself to continue. You’ve made it this far and he hasn’t rebuffed you yet.

“I don’t want to stop talking to you after a month,” you say all in a rush. He opens his mouth to speak but you barrel on, embarrassment flaring in your cheeks. “We don’t need to continue this courtship. I agree that we’ve both met our own conditions. But…we could be friends, could we not?” You’re too afraid to look at him for fear of seeing derision in his face, so you stay turned away. “The—the kiss—” you mumble the word so softly you can hardly hear it yourself—“we said it wouldn’t mean anything. It won’t—it doesn’t mean anything. But I would like to be friends. If you agree.”

This silence is even more unbearable than the one before. “Miss L/N,” Mr. Choi says eventually, very quietly. “Will you look at me?”

Slowly, you turn back to him. There is no derision in his eyes. In fact, he is smiling. 

“You are far braver than I,” he says, seemingly more to himself than you. “I should like to be friends. I was…too scared to bring it up on my own.” His smile widens. “Thank you for asking in place of me.”

Bravery. You nearly snort. If only he knew how selfish this desire was—that your desperation to see him again, even after the aforementioned month was over, was what drove you to this madness. Still, relief pools in your chest and you nearly sag as all of your emotions hit you at once. “Thank God,” you mutter. “I was terrified you would laugh at me.”

He looks at you with mock affront. “I would never laugh at you.”

You raise one deadpan eyebrow. “Yes, you would.”

He does laugh, then. And it’s a beautiful sound. You wonder how you never noticed how lovely it was before. “Touché,” he says, eyes twinkling like stars in a dark sky. 

You sniff, barely repressing your own smile. “I’m always right, Mr. Choi.”

“Beomgyu.”

“…What?” Did you hear him right?

“Beomgyu.” For the first time this night, Mr. Choi looks a little uncertain, but he meets your eyes with a steadiness that keeps you rooted to where you stand. “If we are to be friends, you must call me by my name, no?”

You open your mouth. Close it. To allow one to call you by your given name is an honor typically only bestowed upon family and the closest of friends. You know Mr. Choi—Beomgyu—is friendlier than most in the ton, but to you? Now? “Are you certain?” you ask, blinking fast. 

“Of course I am.” He smirks, but it isn’t even infuriating anymore. “I always am.”

“Tch.” You laugh. “In that case, you must call me Y/N. As a fair trade between friends, of course.”

“Well, if you say so…” He holds out a hand, smiling brightly. “Then might I ask you to dance, Y/N? As friends?”

You smile back. “As friends,” you echo, and as he leads you onto the dance floor, you wonder why, despite all of your relief and joy in this moment, you still feel like there is something missing behind your chest.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[gingernut1314]

Speak No Evil ch. 1

Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader

Summary: You get a call from your cousin who, five years prior, ran away with a man and became the disgrace of your family. She's sick and begs you to come take care of Megumi and his father when she's gone. You promise but are left feeling unsure when she continues to remind you he is a good man.

Warnings: pre-star plasma vessel, reader is the cousin of Mamaugro, reader is Tsumiki's mom, Tsumiki and Magumi are cousins, gendered terms, Mamaguro is sick and dying, mention of pregnancy, more Toji in the next chapter, more of a "background" chapter

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: Because I love Toji and because I love to hurt my own feelings and really really can't stop writing angst. I also know Megumi and Tsumiki aren't actually blood-related but I just really really don't see Toji going off and marrying a whole other person after his wife's death--mamaguro was a very special woman and I want to keep it that way. Tsumiki is still a Fushiguro so I just did it this way. I hope you enjoy!!

Tag list: @sordidmusings

↞ to Speak No Evil Masterlist | Jjk Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠ ch. 2

Your cousin had left home years ago. How the story goes, according to all the women in your family, she had ran away with a man. Not the boyfriend she had be with throughout high school. Not some boy she had met during her time at university. No. Some random man she had picked up on the streets like some feral, flea-ridden cat. 

“She had such a bright future.”

“Stupid girl. Throwing all that away.”

“Mother was the only one who caught sight of him. Said he was no good. Scruffy. Dangerous looking even. Just a bad bad man.” 

“I thought I had raised her better than this.”

And on and on they would go for hours. It was worse during family gatherings, naturally. More ears to listen in. More mouths to speak horrid things about your cousin.

“She was a slut. Slept around at university.” 

“It’s no surprise then she followed that man.”

“Maybe he is in a gang. Maybe he made her join.”

“All I can do is pray for her soul.”

You knew the truth. 

Your cousin had only been able to trust you and you had only been able to trust her in the entirety of the Fushiguro family. You two had been by each other sides since the day you two were born. Just one day apart and raised in the same home.

She hadn’t just been your cousin, she had been your sister and you knew she had loved that man. She had told you as much just days before she left. She loved him and he loved her and she had been ready to leave your horrid family behind.

You wished you had been able to do the same. You wished she had taken you with her, but she had left without a word. Had left in the dead of the night, leaving her bed unmade in your shared bedroom. No note no nothing. Just gone.

You had made the mistake of trying to defend her one too many times. Tried to tell your family she had truly found someone she had loved but they wouldn’t hear it. They would call you a liar and shake their heads in disappointment. 

“Speak no evil.” They would hiss alongside your name. 

“You’ll end up just like her if you keep spewing such nonsense.” 

“You better keep a close eye on your daughter. She has that look in her eyes. The same one her cousin had.” 

You stopped trying to defend your cousin and kept your mouth shut. Kept your eyes squeezed shut and ears covered as they spoke. 

During your last semester at university, you had gotten pregnant. The father was of no importance and you couldn’t even remember his name. Just some random hook-up in some random bar that you probably shouldn’t have even gone to in the first place.

Your family finally, finally stopped speaking ill of your cousin because they turned their lashing tongues onto you. 

It was a hard time. You only stayed because you needed a place to stay so you could slowly begin to save your money and leave.

You had a daughter you named Tsumiki; meaning the moon, beauty, and hope. She was your hope for a brighter future for yourself and she had given you the courage to finally leave. You took what very little you had and left in the dead of the night just as your cousin did a few years prior.

You moved to the city. Found work and did everything in your power to make sure Tsumiki grew up happy and healthy. 

Three years later you get a call from an unknown number. You typically didn’t answer such calls, knowing it was more than likely a scam call, but something in your gut churned. Something told you that you should answer and so you listened to your gut only for your heart to stop in your chest. 

Your name was spoken. A name said on a weak, shaky, near tear-filled voice. A voice you could never forget and one you had longed to hear despite its soft weakness. You said your cousin's name in a rush as you stood from where you had been playing blocks with your daughter.

“Wh-where are you? How have you been? Are you alright?”

“I’m…” She took a shaky inhale as if to steady herself. “ Listen. I’m sick.”

“Okay--okay, tell me where you are and I can take care of you.” 

“No. No, not yet just--I need you to know he’s a good man.” He. He the man she had run off with. “He’s a good man but when I die--”

“Die? You’re not going to die. Tell me where you are and I’ll come make you better okay.”

“He’s not going to take it well and--I have a son now. Megumi.” You said your cousin's name once more in something like a warning. A warning she didn’t heed. “He’s so precious. Looks just like his dad--kinda looks like you too. His hair is wild. Can’t tame it no matter how hard I try.” It sounded like she was crying now. Tears burned at your eyes too. 

“What are you trying to say? You’re--you’re not going to die okay. Just let me come help you and--”

“I’ve been told I only have a month left. In a month, you’ll get my address and I want you--no, I'm begging you to come here and remember that he is a good man despite his flaws. He’s trying his best with what he’s been dealt and--I don’t want him or Megumi to be alone. Please don’t let them be alone.” Your cousin cried. She sounded so weak--really weak and all you wanted to do was rush to her side and take care of her but you knew she wouldn’t allow that. “Promise me you’ll be there for them. Both of them. He’s a good man. He’s a good man.” 

Your mind floated back to all the nights your family spent talking of this mystery man your cousin had run away with. 

Demon, devil, scruffy, dangerous. They never painted a good picture of him…but you had defended your cousin and this man. You had defended them because your cousin had loved him and had always spoken so dearly of him. Just as she was now. 

“I--I promise. I’ll be there.” You spoke, voice breaking as you tried to wipe away your tears. Small hands grabbed hold of the fabric of your sweatpants and you found Tsumiki standing there, her own hazel brown eyes brimming with tears. Only three but she could sense the emotions waging within your chest. She was your little empath. 

“Thank you…I--I know I’m asking a lot.”

“You can never ask for too much. You’re my family. You can ask whatever you need from me okay.” You said despite your soul screaming out against such an ask. 

“Did you--did you get away from all them?” The rest of your family. Family you would do nothing for. 

“Yes. I--I had a daughter. Her names Tsumiki.” You could almost hear your cousin smile through the phone. 

“You’ve had that name picked out since we were little girls.” You chuckled, getting to yours knees so you could look over Tsumiki’s round face. You place a gentle hand on her cheek and she was quick to grab it, holding it close.

 “Do--would you want to say hi? She’s right here.” 

“Please .” You were quick to put the phone on speaker, holding it so Tsumiki could see the screen. 

“Kiki. I’m talking to your aunt. Can you say hi?” You said, brushing a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. Her eyes snapped to you, then to the phone, then to you again, looking shy as ever.

“Hi.” Tsumiki said shyly.

“Hi, sweetie. How old are you?” 

“Three.” She responded quicker, her grip on your hand never flattering. 

“Wow. You’re such a big girl now, huh?” Tsumiki didn't respond then, climbing into your lap and burying her face in your neck. 

“She’s a bit shy.” You chuckled, holding her tight against you. “Kiki, we’re going to meet your cousin soon. I think you two will be good friend.” She merely nodded against your skin. 

“Thank you.” You cousin spoke on a whisper. 

“I just--I wish you would let me come help you right now.” You heard the sound of a man’s voice in the distance. A deep thing the followed with the sound of a door shutting.

“I need to put all my focus on my boys right now. There is nothing that can be done for me. There is no cure no medicine. I’ve run out of luck and that’s okay but--I need to be with my boys until I can’t.” You heard the man call for your cousin and the ruffle of sheets as she moved. 

“What’s his name?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you. 

“Toji.”

Next ->

[hyacintheros]

Brand New City

5. Taunt

|| (Marauders Era Characters x Fem!Reader)

Series Masterlist Previous Chapter

Pairing: Marauders Era Characters x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Rude James

Word Count: 1.1k

P.S: So basically, I burnt out LOLL, I will be trying to post more frequently though c:

“Petunia! Look at my snowman!” A brightly redheaded girl calls out, her nose and cheeks kissed with the winter air. She pulls her elder sister to a newly built snowman, its ice blobs adorned by a carrot the girl had borrowed from the kitchen. Petunia laughs at it, all wonky and lopsided, yet still having its own charm, being that her sister made it.

Their cousin pops out from the snow, covered in it and giggling at her snow angel. “You have to try this out, guys!” Lily and Petunia join her on the snowy hill, throwing snowballs and sharing hot chocolate from their packed thermos.

Walking to the black lake, she sighs deeply, remembering the last time she saw her cousin Petunia, seeing the anger and jealousy in her eyes when it was revealed that she would also be attending Hogwarts, along with Lily. How cruel Merlin had been to her, Petunia had thought.

She sets a thermos of hot chocolate down on the blanket, one charmed against water and to provide warmth. Propping herself against a snow-covered tree, the girl pulls out a sketchbook, taking in her view for a moment. Finally, her eyes set upon a large tree next to the lake, a few students throwing lumps of snow at each other.

She starts off with the background first, wanting to capture the environment around her. The barely frozen lake, the grass covered in a blanket of snow, trees shaking off their coats of snow onto students below.

“That's really pretty.. I like what you did with the tree on the left,” the boy sits down next to her gently, his dirty blonde hair getting in the way of his eyes. “Thank you, Peter! I just can't seem to work out the lake, how do I show that it's ice now?” Peter thinks about this for a moment, pondering on what ice could be represented with.

“What about ice-skating? Put a pair of people skating on it, so then it'll register as ice in your head!” Peter looks over the lake, making a note to ask his friends later to go out for a little skate. “That's brilliant, Peter!” He breaks out into a flushed stare, not quite sure how to respond, nor where to look.

Before he can conjure up a reply, a remarkable head of red appears. “Y/N, Peter, come quickly!” Lily pulls Peter up while the girl goes to pack her things, concerned at the distress in Lily’s voice. “What's happened?” Peter asks as Lily walks briskly, urging them to follow.

“Remus.. he's fallen ill, James said he was in the infirmary!” Her cousin hurries, worry in her tone. Peter looks nervous at this, still following along. “Are you sure? We should bring him something..” Y/N says, worried about her friend.

Lily stops to think for a moment, what could they possibly bring to make Remus feel better? The group had never seen the boy sick before, so they couldn't reference another incident. Though, one thing that could always cheer Remus up was always a bar of chocolate.

Chocolate was like Remus’ girlfriend at this point. Always in his hands, on his lips, sometimes found on his bed! But the three of them didn't know his favourite. To them, it never looked like Remus carried a specific bar of chocolate around, he'd typically buy whatever was on sale or he'd buy the big box of unwanted ones that wouldn't sell.

Thus, he never carried one specific brand or flavour, they were always mixed and matched. In the end, his friends went back to Y/N's dorm to retrieve a chocolate bar her parents had sent. A Lindt dark chocolate bar they had bought specifically when they were in Switzerland on travel.

Now with the Holy Grail in hand, they march to the infirmary, in hopes to check on the boy's well-being. “D'you think maybe it got too cold? The weather has been crazy lately..” Peter asks the girls, trying to find the cause of his friend's illness.

The trio strolled into the infirmary, trying not to disturb the other students who are also here for some form of illness. They spot Remus at the furthest end of the room, surrounded by James and Sirius.

“Rem! Goodness, what's happened?” Lily calls out as they approach the boy. Remus, upon hearing Lily, sits up quickly, he's not supposed to be up at all. James and Sirius try to push him down, telling him to worry about his health.

He looks sheepishly at Lily, then Y/N, Peter had already known as they were roommates. “It's not bad, really! I was out studying in the grass when this huge dog just came at me..” he says to the girls, praying that they'll believe him.

Ever the doting friend, Y/N grabs a washcloth from the table next to him, placing it in the bowl of water and wiping his face gently. “How do you feel, Remus?” She asks quietly, not wanting to make too much noise in case he had a headache.

James puffs, obviously annoyed by the girl even being here, but he doesn't want to make a scene- for Remus’ sake.

Remus melts into her touch, feeling butterflies on his skin from her gentle movements. “I'm alright.. Dog came from nowhere” she nods sympathetically.

Lily pulls the treats from Y/N's pocket, placing it into the injured boy's hands. “We heard chocolate helps when you're feeling unwell. Eat, you'll feel better” Lily teases, something Remus always does when others don't feel well.

He laughs at this, amused and touched by the bar of chocolate, thanking the girls and Peter. He thinks back to the full moon last night, it wasn't as bad as it usually was, and he's grateful for it. Though, he did scare poor Peter when stumbling back into bed.

James, ever the bitter person, but he could never act like that in front of Lily, he tries to be subtle about it. “I think there are a few too many people here, we should start clearing up.” He says, looking at Y/N.

She gets the message, not wanting to fight. So she pats Remus’ head and says goodbye to her friends, telling Remus to get better. Y/N debates on going back to her common room or to the lake again. On one hand, she'd like to be all warm and cosy while reading a little book. But on the other, she's still got that drawing to finish.

Ultimately, she decides on packing a little sandwich from the Great Hall and going back to the lake. She still had her little blanket and thermos, kept it in her bag with her. For a moment, she just lays on the warmed blanket, watching little snowflakes fall. Christmas is coming soon, she missed her family dearly.

[regulusmoonbeam]

OH DAMN OKAY— THINK ABT WHAT U WANT ME TO DO NEXT OKAY

tw talks of ww2, abuse, and other sensitive topics

UHHHHH ILL DO WALBURGA BC U WERE TALKING ABOUT HER EARLIER

I hate her, I'll preface this with that, but I'm just diving into her character and how she became the way she did

we know almost basically nothing about her, besides her relationship to Sirius and reg, and what she kinda did

but like her when she was younger

but first, we've gotta analyze the time period and how that affected her values

Sirius was born in 1959, and if we estimate Walburga was somewhat young when she had him (seeing as she was probably betrothed) so let's place her at having Sirius in her 20s maybe like 23-25

so that means she was born around 1934 at the very least (In this scenario)

and while ww2 is going on for the muggles, don't you think it'd be a perfect time for blood supremacists to kill a bunch of muggles and halfbloods without getting caught?

I'd think so

So like the black family being who they are, had engrained it in their children from a young age that anyone that wasn't a pure blood was automatically beneath them

and as a child who was extremely wealthy due to her blood, why would walburga find an issue with that? not to mention she was very smart, which seemed to even further prove her parents point

she was the top of her class, cold and calculating, but knew how to be diplomatic

everyone either adored her or hated her, usually both

she was destined for greatness, to be a prominent figure in the wizarding world, but sexism would never allow things to be that simple

she was able to get a job at the ministry of magic at the young age of 19, it was never seen or heard of before, for someone so young and talented (and a woman) to get that job

the same job Orion Black wanted. Orion was never far behind his cousin when it came to grades, prominence, or anything else, but he was always second to walburga

it was always walburga this, Walburga that, and Orion— knowing his whole life he was to be married to her— was ready to cash in on that vow and take Walburga's job away from her

this is how, in the 1930s for certain jobs women were forced to resign if they had gotten married, and I feel like this would have been especially true in the wizarding world

so a few years after getting a lower level job at the ministry than walburga did, he brought up the topic of marriage to his parents, spouting stuff about how they should get married now and try to have kids now before it was too late, and before walburga's prominence withered

and they agreed. so that next year after they turned 22, Orion and walburga were married

needless to say, walburga was PISSED but she knew it was useless to protest getting married, so all she asked for was one more year at her job and one year to plan the wedding

which meant she had 2 years to postpone the wedding, hence why they got married at 22 and not 20

But even then, Walburga knew it was Orion's jealousy that did this to her. doomed her to be a "submissive and inferior being"

She wanted to be ahead, to show how much better she was than everyone else, not stuck inside a house taking care of kids

which is where Sirius and regulus come in

I would like to preface this by saying she was never a good mother in my mind, but she wasn't as gung ho as abusive at first

she has Sirius when she was 23, and regulus when she was 25

She was just neglectful at first, not taking care of Sirius more than the bare minimum, and even then, sometimes she didn't do that

Sirius mainly taken care of my house elves, barely seeing his mother for the first four years of his life, and if he did see her, she was curt, dismissive, and short tempered

but she never physically hurt him

that wasn't until regulus came along. Regulus' pregnancy was much harder on walburga than Sirius', which only pissed her off more when he was born

Sirius, being only a toddler when regulus was born, was the object of walburgas newfound wrath

he would be left without food for periods of time, threatened when he cried, and more

but it wasn't until he was 4 that the punishments upped. with age came a stronger body, and a stronger body meat it could sustain more damage

that's when the beatings started, it would be a slap here an there, instructions to use corporal punishments in his tutoring if he was wrong, getting hit in the knuckles with rulers if he cried

Sirius got most of walburgas attention at this point in time, since Sirius had asked kreacher to keep regulus away from their mother as much as possible

when Sirius was 7 and regulus was 5, the cursed started. the unforgivables

every year spent in that house was one more year walburga got more bitter, more angry. and she couldn't take it out on her husband, so who better and more vulnerable than the kids?

she ground the teachings her parents taught her as a child into them, to extremes, with punishments if they didn't obey

the first unforgivable she used was when little Sirius had asked her why their bloodline made them better than everyone else

and without so much as an answer, she used her first crucio on Sirius

the little boy writhed in pain and a part of walburga couldn't help but enjoy it, seeing him in pain

it was payback, revenge for the life they took away from her. making them feel only a portion of her pain.

but if she couldn't do it herself, she would mold her children into everything she was supposed be and more, and would make sure they wouldn't stray

which is why Sirius leaving destroyed her so much. Sirius was very smart, he reminded walburga of herself when she was younger, but he always always went against what she wanted and she couldn't stand it

she believed that the more harsh she got, maybe he would finally fall into line, to let her live through him

he was her only way out, even if by living vicariously through him

but then he left. he put a stain on their family. she despised him. how could her son betray her like that when he was destined for greatness?

She couldn't fathom it. she allowed herself one mistake, one slip up. she wouldn't mess up again. she'd get it right with regulus.

she was harsher on regulus than anyone could have ever imagined, and Orion didn't even care. He had what he wanted, his high up job and an heir, who cared about the disowned son now?

Regulus, having no one left to protect him faced the full force of walburga, and obediently fell into line

he was the perfect heir, at least on the outside. he was smart, but not the way walburga wanted him to be. she wanted another sirius, but had a regulus

she made sure he studied, and was at the top of his class. if he wasn't, she made sure he knew what would happen

and when Voldemort arose, she made sure he was on track to joining the death eaters

walburga was elated she was finally going to get what she wanted, but then regulus died. she was crushed, a shell of her prominent, assertive self after that. because once more, she was so close, and yet gotten her dreams taken from her

Even the fact that Orion(the person who took everything from her)died that same year couldn't bring her back to herself

she died years later, alone in the house she was trapped in

ARRGRHRHEGHEHEHEHEHRGRHEGEGEGEHEHRHERGEHHRHGHGHGHGHHGH

ARGHGHGHHGHHGHGHH

OH MY GODDDDD

IM GONNA TWEAK

[kimetsu-chan]

~Zeno Headcanons~

A/N: headcanons for my lovely wife, @larz-barz! I will probably add to these every now and then, I’ll reblog it when I do!

It is no secret that Zeno is tall

Like, man is a giant

A whole 6’1”(or 6’2”, I can’t remember-)

Point I’m trying to make is, he likes to carry people around

Like, even if the person is taller than him or the same height, he will swoop up behind them and carry the bridal style

He also likes putting people on his shoulders

Especially kids

OH MY GOSH HE LOVES KIDS

He has no siblings, so when he interacts with young children, he gets really happy

He wants to have at least 2-3 kids so they won’t grow up lonely like he did

Zeno lore drop? 👀

Zeno has a very weak immune system, which was the cause of most of his loneliness

Super big lore drop, Zeno has lymphoma—

Its minor though, it doesn’t hinder him much besides making him get sick a lot

But his parents didn’t want to have more kids in case they had lymphoma too

And since he was sick often, he wasn’t allowed to play with other kids much as to not get them sick either

OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH ZENO LORE FOR TODAY-

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR HIS ✨ MOMMY ISSUES ✨

*Ahem-*

ANYWAYS-

Zeno’s favorite food is Zosui, a Japanese rice soup!

He likes it because he learned to make it from a very young age (like… 9?) and his cousin taught him how to cook it

Zeno is very good at household chores. He cooks fairly often, even more so when he becomes a demon slayer since he’s out on his own

He also enjoys cleaning, finding the process rather satisfying

He also sewed his haori himself!

Zeno took a collection of fabric of his two favorite colors, and turned them into a haori

So in conclusion, the man is good housewife material

Someone better wife him up rn

*AHEM* Larz *AHEM*

….. yall hear smth?

Moving on, Zeno obviously is a very teasing dude

He LOVES to tease the living daylights outa people

Whether that be flirtatiously or not

But he is also, ✨ easily flustered ✨

Perfect combo, I know 😎

He’ll tell someone how cute/handsome/gorgeous they are without breaking a sweat

But the moment they throw it right back at him, he is suddenly a very blushy blushy boy o////o

He’d freeze for a few seconds then probably rub the back of his neck, a habit of his

OH YEAH

HE ALSO HAS VERY WARM HANDS

Larz can confirm, this is in one of our rps

His hands are like little heating packets

Oh, you’re shivering? Zeno to the rescue 🤩

GOSH IM RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS-

Zeno is a very pretty sleeper

Bro looks majestic in his sleep and I have a photo to prove it.

:>

Also yeah, he got some long lashes

Bro is just pretty 24/7

One thing that really irks Zeno, is when he gets accused of being a player/fboy bc of his personality

And yes, this has happened before

He was jokingly flirting with Aoi when he was helping her buy groceries and some random lady from the street stomped up to him and started lecturing him to “not play with a young lady’s heart”

Yeah-

Zeno has his own house(ik, weird for a 17yo)

But he stays there the days/nights he doesn’t have missions

He lives alone(poor lonely bby 😢) but likes to have people over often

He also likes to cook large portions of food and take them to the elderly people who live in his village, that way they get a free meal and they don’t have to eat alone(if they live alone)

He’s just a cutie patootie + bbg

A/N: THATS ALL FOR NOW, ILL ADD MORE WHEN I THINK OF THEM!

[mademoiselle-red]

The Inheritance

Once upon a time, sometime around 1948 to be precise, in a place far far away, in a small wine town in a place called Sichuan, in the middle of a civil war, a man said to his wife and baby son: “I have to leave with the army for a while. I’ll be back before Chinese new year.”

The wife said: “Then we’ll try to survive long enough until you return.”

The new year came and went. There was no trace of the man. No letters, no messages, nothing. Where did he go? Did he die on the road? She didn’t know. And when the new government set up shop in her town, she decided it was better to assume he died in the war.

The wife kept her promise and survived. She went to live with her brother’s family.

“Auntie, where is uncle?” My young grandmother would ask.

“We lost him during the war,” her auntie would explain.

Several new years came and went. The young son grew up in his uncle’s house, knowing only that his father had been a simple bookkeeper who’d perished in the war, and the adults did not like to speak of him.

According to my grandmother, her cousin lived a good life, but died young from a sudden illness, unmarried and childless.

After her son passed away, the mother continued to live in the house he bought for her, just a few streets away from her niece, until she passed away too. She went peacefully, my grandmother said, after a long battle with cancer.

My grandmother buried her aunt next to her cousin, and then moved on with her life. Over the next few decades, she met and married my grandfather, raised three daughters with him, and retired in her late-fifties after a long career as a school teacher.

And when all her daughters left home one after the other to pursue their own careers and start their families, she and my grandfather sold their old house and moved to a more spacious one across town.

And then one day, some time in the 90s, a man from a place far far away showed up in a suit in this little wine town, looking for an address written on an old crinkled piece of paper to a house that was torn down decades ago.

The old neighbors on the street didn’t remember where that family —a single mother and her young son —had moved to.

But he still had a few days left on his visa so he kept asking around town. And on the last day of his trip, he found an old lady who remembered that the young mother’s brother had a daughter who had been a school teacher at her local elementary school.

And with the help of a retired teacher from the same school, the man found himself knocking on the door of a house on the other side of town.

“Hello, my name is ——, I come from Kaohsiung, and I’m looking for the niece of ——. He left this town in 1948 during the war. He was my father’s best friend.”

~

In 1948, a bookkeeper for the army left his mountainous hometown on a truck, got on a train, and then on a ship, and sailed to a foreign place called Kaohsiung. There, he was given a room to sleep in, and told he would be back home before the new year.

Several new years came and went, and the army discharged him, gave him some money, and told him he was free to do what he wanted. But he was not allowed to return home.

And so he bought a truck with the money and started a delivery business with a buddy from the army.

The decades went by, the buddy started a new family in their newfound home, but the man remained alone. His buddy’s children called him “uncle” and he doted on them like they were his own. And when the children were all grown up, they looked after him like he was indeed their uncle. On his deathbed, the man said to one of the children who called him uncle: “I have a wife and son in a small town in a place called Sichuan. I saved up some money for them over the years, but could not find a way to contact them. Please find them for me and give my son his inheritance.”

And so this is the story of how my grandmother was visited by a stranger one day out of the blue, who sat down for tea, told her a story, paid his respects at a grave, and left her with a rather hefty bundle of cash and gold, all within the span of one afternoon.

The end.

[fa-by]

Hiiii babies and dear Anons 👋🏼🤗. I'm back with a new Q&A post. Before I start tho, two things:

1) I was unable to do the analyses of those three songs. I apologize to the Anons who asked for them, but I really didn't have the time. It already took me so long to answer these asks and if I'd done those analyses as well, who knows how long before you would've had this post. So, sorry 😅. I hope to be able to do them for the next post 🤞🏼.

2) This long wait was due to the fact that I had various commitments and then I also got ill (for something different from the past) by ending up in the hospital for a day 😭. I'm not healed yet so arm yourselves with patience for future posts as well 😅🙏🏼.

Now without having to still bore you with my problems, let's move on to the answers. Enjoy 🙃.

Your answers are here in my Only Told the Moon analysis.

Hi to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄. The answer is no, and if you want to know more details, here is my Thinkin’ Bout One analysis (seventh ask).

Yeah, definitely. For years now and they'll continue to do that.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 pure invention from which they'll surely have taken their cue from fanfictions and which they've been trying to pass off as reality for years 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Ups and downs, Anon, I hope your year is going much better than mine 😊.

Don't we all need Camren in our lives? 🤭 And yep, I'm back, but as I explained in the introduction, I've had commitments and I'm not well again at the moment 😭.

They still are now. They are real. And yeah, they'll eventually admit it. It will depend on their careers 💁🏻‍♀️.

Hello to you, my dear @lindy123​ 👋🏼😄. I hope you don't mind that I'm replying here instead of in the comments, and thank you so much for the kind words 🥰. As for Lo's unreleased songs, I obviously loved them 😍! I'm just sorry all 5 are incomplete 🥺 but oh well 🤷🏻‍♀️ she didn't intend to do that and that's why we have them now 😜. As for your question instead, the answer can be found in this old post: Unreleased songs - ɟ.

My dear Anon, from your welcome back I understand that you've read my past posts, and therefore you know perfectly well what I think of the so-called ‘insiders’ 🙄. I think I've already talked about it enough, but for those who are new to my blog, this is an example: https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/659001741145243648/if-you-think-el-was-a-fan-account-then-how-do-you.

The signs are still there. Not as often as in the past, but they're still being given to us.

Don't doubt and don't fall into the traps of the bullshit people say. You said you think they're still together, and there must be a reason if you think that. So my advice is to keep using the smart part of you that distinguishes you from the herd of sheep 💪🏼.

Oh and, by the way, hello to you too 👋🏼😄 and thanks for the welcome back 😊.

You're not considering many other people, Anon. Camila and Dinah shared it with Hoko (Dinah's cousin) and the band (Ashlee Juno, Lauren Fuller, and Michelle “Michel'Le” Baptiste) while Ally, Normani, and Lauren shared it with some members of the tour crew; four if I'm not mistaken because the rest was in another bus. And inside both of the girls’ buses were purposely left empty sleeping places for when their family members joined them and stayed for a few tour dates.

And I know what you're thinking right now: why couldn't the band and those 4 tour crew members be in one bus and 5H + Hoko in the other one? Simple, that was their last year as a group and the narrative dictated the division between the girls. It was one of the many things that served to create speculation, draw even more attention, and sneakily get fans used to already seeing Mila as a solo artist and LAND as a group. As simple as that 💁🏻‍♀️.

Hey to you, dear Anon 👋🏼😄. And yes, of course. When I wrote “contracts can provide that two people who have already had a PR in the past can have it again in the future”, I meant it. But, and yes, there is a but.

Lauren's independent now, so I'm pretty sure that unless Tymbark's team requests it, it won't happen. Same with Luckless. Even more with her if that's why 🤣 because she has no team or labels to answer to and, even though she’s tried so many times (especially with her PR with Laur), she's not famous. Plus, that PR was made for Laur and therefore it would be up to her to request it again. And it's never gonna happen because she's luckily out of her life (unlike Sasha who, although not a celebrity, has been and still is a part of her life). Rather than have it with her again, I think Laur would rather have PRs with 100 different girls, whether famous or non-famous 🤣.

Have a good day too, dear Anon 🙃.

Are you the same Anon of the “happy 2023”?

Anyway. There's no way to know for sure. There are several factors to consider. How much notoriety does the artist have? Are they an A-list singer?  How much notoriety does the magazine have? Is it just an interview, or an interview + photoshoot? Is there anything else included in the interview to promote other than the music? Products/brands, feuds, relationships, future projects? It all depends on this and much more.

Like, for example. Is it an interview with a full fashion shoot plus high-level clothes and photographers? It already means that it's an important magazine and that the artist is considered as such and that was most likely wanted. Very important magazines such as are for example Vogue, Elle, and Vanity Fair, are themselves paying the artists and not the other way around. If that's why, in addition to the $100,000-plus earned, the artists receive free clothing, accessories, samples, make-up, and beauty products that they can keep as part of the shoot.

If, on the other hand, we're talking about less important magazines then it depends. (It always depends on the notoriety of the artist, but still.) If the interview is simple enough and the focus is on the music to be promoted, then it's very likely that the artist's team contacted and paid the magazine. Ditto if it's just an article without an interview.

If, on the other hand, there's something else to promote besides music, things change. But even here, it depends. What is this other thing to promote and how important is it? If it's not something really important that can generate lots of clicks, then it doesn't matter. But if it does matter, whether it's a scoop from a new love interest, or a feud with another celebrity, then it's the artists who get paid to release it.

For other types of magazines, however, it doesn't work that way. The mere presence of the artist on their web pages benefits them because fans or readers in general generate clicks. It's a double exposure for both artist and the magazine and therefore a win-win situation. No one pays anyone in this case because it's precisely a free double cross-publicity.

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄.

To answer your questions, well, none of the above. I want you to seriously think about something: if you had a one-on-one business meeting with your supervisor or directly with your boss, would you show up there with your significant other? I really don't think so. You have your meeting and after work, you call or meet directly with your significant other to tell them how it went. Period. That's the reality. Work is work, and you must know how to separate their work and their relationship because it runs exactly as it does for all of us.

Besides, although at the time Maverick managed the group for things related to the group as a whole, Mila was already personally managed by Roger, and therefore LAND and in this specific case Laur, was personally managed by Maverick. Both Roger and Maverick obviously answered to the labels because all labels always have the final decision on everything, but still, the point is that for personal things not related to 5H, Camren were managed by different people.

So as in the example of not bringing your significant other to meetings I gave you earlier, Mila wasn't present during Laur's PRs signings and agreements and vice versa.

I hope you're super well too 🙃 and to know more about how PRs work, read my PR stunt relationships - ɟ post.

[Faby oh my god I almost dropped my phone when I seen u posted 🤦🏻‍♀️🤣🤣 anyway hi not sure if u remember me but it’s me K 😂 sorry to hear u had not been well and to hear u lost ur dog I too lost my cat last yr she was 13yr and like u I felt like a part of me died with her she was my shadow. Glad to hear u adopted another dog thats the best way is to adopt.]

🤭🤣🤣🤣🤣 hi K! Of course I remember you 🤗! I'm so sorry about your cat 🥺😭, I completely understand. I like to think they'll always stay with us no matter what ❤. Why don't you adopt another one too? Trust me, it would help you a lot and you'd fall in love immediately like I did with my new puppy girl 🥰. Let me know😍.

1) [So with my question is what do u make of so many loyal CS and L’s fans leaving her? A lot has left bc of L’s attitude,how she constantly contradicts herself where fans weren’t able to defend her anymore and how she keep attacking CS.]

As you also said yourself, many got tired of both her behaviors and the fact that she keeps attacking CS. I've also seen that many people got tired of the fact of her sexualizing herself most of the time she posts something, or not going on tour in certain places, etc.

Honestly, all bullshit to me. You know why? Because Lauren has always been this way to the public! The thing that people don't understand, and for years now, is that this is the public image she's always had since they started training them back in the X-Factor days. And for those who don't know, by training them I mean how they started teaching them how to behave in front of cameras, how to answer or avoid certain questions during an interview, etc.

We've always had two Laurens. What's new? They still can't tell them apart? 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

Public imagine Lauren is the one who has to defend the PRs and attack Camren because she has contracts to comply with. She's the one who's been taught for years that sex sells, and she continues to use this tactic to publicize something simply because she's comfortable doing so. She's the one who has to act and say certain things because it's the only way to stay afloat in the industry, especially now more than ever because she's an independent artist.

The real Lauren, doesn't post much because she lives her life outside of social media. She's the one who started the first spontaneous and free Attunements during the pandemic. She's the one who can't go on world tours like she did when she was with 5H. How should she do it according to them? With what money? With the support of which major label? Do these people really have a hard time understanding the word independent? 🙄😒

Anyway, I still think that these so-called “fans”, which are anything but fans, drop out because things don't go the way they want. News flash, it never will! There's a person behind the artist who's constantly harassed every day and yes, even by those who don't deserve to be called CS. What do they expect her to do when the harassment on her body, her personality, and her life in general has been a daily occurrence for 11 years? For her to even thank them? 🤣🤣🤣🤣 Sure! And what does she actually do instead?: “Naturally inclined to love, but when the love ain't flowin' back, I pull away and reassess, gotta protect me. Push the negative to the side so it's not in front of my eyes, outta sight, outta mind. I need more than 50 feet”.

And in addition to 50 feet., there are songs like Inside, Colors, Scattered, Falling, Healing, EM(oceans), Wolves, Temporary and especially While I’m Alive that also talk about these situations. Hellooo??? No? Nothing? Don't they see i- 🤦🏻‍♀️okay...🤷🏻‍♀️

So, they don't wanna see the reality and go away? It's alright for me, and for her too honestly 🤣. Addio! Adiós! Au revoir! Sayonara! Adeus! Auf Wiedersehen! Do svidaniya! Go support someone who does what you want but that actually has so many faces that you won't even be able to recognize the real one 😉. *said in her voice like in that video when Trump lost the 2020 presidential election* Bah-bye, bitch 👋🏼!

2) [Another question is what do u except from C’s new label-]

I expect much more now 🤣. No jokes aside, I hope that with this new label she can return to the freedom and “glory” of 2017/2018. Unlike the past, I unfortunately still can't tell you what they'll do in my opinion or give you a theory simply because I don't know how they work yet. Ask me again after the first project 😏.

[-and now she changed pr firm?]

Mila didn't change PR firm/agency. She's still part of the WME Agency and you can also see it on Mila's official website itself. She simply also joined the BT PR Agency 😉.

3) [Why post that snippet of a new song with the line Coachella the. Deleted? I’m guessing it’s for the pr but that was desperate even for them. Is her new label the reason for the circus starting again or was it his team like last time or are they trying to make them as the new Justin and Selena?]

Yep, it was 100% just for the PR. And yes, desperate are the Sandalwood team 🥱. And yeah, they tried and tried to make them an important couple like Jelina, but in reality they only succeeded in making them the first fake couple to come up in Google image results when searching for pr relationships 🧐🙈🤣.

4) [What’s ur opinions on some fans claiming the Coachella stunt was nothing to do with their teams but C and L we’re arguing for awhile and C did it to get back at L? Personally I don’t believe that but still curious for ur thoughts]

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Oh yeah? And who told them that? Lauren or Camila? Or both of them? Over text, call, or video call? 🤣. Do they really think people believe that? And above all, do they really think that (C&S) they’re free to do something like this without breaking the contract and without consequences from their teams and labels? I caaaan't! 🤦🏻‍♀️🤣

My thoughts on this? Well, besides these ☝🏼 🤣, I feel sorry for all these people who do everything they can to get 5 min of attention and for those who believe it. But specifically, I'm ashamed to be associated in the same category (CS) as these, to quote Lauren, delusional people. Sorry not sorry 💁🏻‍♀️🙃😁.

5) [What are u expecting C’s new music to sound like?]

She experimented a lot with her music over the years, so I don't know if she'll continue to do that or settle on a specific genre. As I told you in point 2, I still don't know how this new label works, so I can't give you any answers yet.

[From that snippet she shared and how she working with yet another friend of his 🙄-]

Forget that snippet 🤣. She deleted it herself faster than light after a short time because it had its purpose for the Shitmilashow 😴.

[-my expectations have gone down to where I think it’s gonna be a full pr album or at least there gonna make it out to be.]

I don't think complete, but yeah, of course there'll be songs with phrases explicitly changed to imply that they're references to him, unfortunately for my and your ears. But oh well 🤷🏻‍♀️ I've been used to both of them and their PRs for years now.

[Anyway I know that was a lot of questions so I’m gonna leave it there for now 😂 but I have no idea how happy I am to see ur back specially with other blogs who left. I’m glad ur well and still a CS 😏😂 - K]

Don't worry, my dear K, you can always ask me for as many as you like 😄. I don't mind. I'm glad you're happy that I’m back and yes, I'm gonna be a real CS forever 😉. I hope you're well too 😊. A virtual hug 🤗.

‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍

Aaand I'm done 👅. Thank you all for your asks and I hope I've been helpful this time too 🙃. As usual, I'm always available for those who have questions, so ask away 😄.

Remember to be nice. Always. Both with others and with yourselves. Be a good example. Be patient. Be safe and take care of yourselves. Don't let our ship sink. Keep shipping them, but please respectfully 🙏🏼. Sending you virtual love and hugs 🤗🤗🤗. I love you, babies. Always with love, F ❤️.

[townsenddecades]

1318 – Day 1

The year 1318 dawns rather gloomily, with the countryside plunged deep into winter. Food is still scarce and the populace still struggles to make ends meet, but the Townsends are determined not to let that be the end of their family.

Their optimism is made harder by the children. With all of them constantly hungry and an infant in the house, it’s rare for Malika and Benjamin to get a proper night’s rest. Fortunately for them, Benedict is ready to let them sleep a little longer and make breakfast himself, even if his hands aren’t as skilled for that work as they are for carpenting. Provisions are too scarce to throw any food away, no matter how burnt it may be.

The Townsends try to fill the long cold winter days with activity, from the simple caring for the house and the beehives to their various crafts. Sadly, they had to get rid of one of their hives, which has become infested, but the others still seem to be alright. They don’t produce honey at the moment but Benjamin still checks on it to make sure everything is alright.

After he is done with that, he spends some time woodworking, much to the fascination of his daughter and niece. Amye and Elsie are curious children by nature, but especially when Papa is doing something that they’re trying to understand.

Malika is glad to have some time to sit down to knit by the fire, after the laundry and the children are taken care of.

Because there isn’t much for him to do on the farm, Gregory travels over to the abbey once again to practice his painting. He has been harbouring a secret hope, hidden from his family, about somehow acquiring an apprenticeship as a painter. Both Anna and Simon have moved on to lifestyles far more exciting than mere farmwork, and he has seen what marrying into serfdom has done to Edith. There is no doubt in his mind that she could have lived had she been situated better.

He doesn’t intend to spend his life on a farm if that fate is a possibility. Who knows what other calamaties will come? Who knows if they won’t all die before spring can save them?

So he practices as best he can. He is so intent that he only notices a girl watching when she calls out to him.

“You’re here quite often, aren’t you?”

He starts, and is annoyed at it at first, but the girl quickly apologizes. Her name is Agnes, and she lives at the abbey with her older sister, so she spends a lot of time there. She is very curious about his painting, in fact. She has no hand for it herself, but is fascinated by people who do, and Gregory is far too flattered not to talk about his wish to become an artist.

When he tells her how he wants to escape his family's farm life, she sighs. “At least you have a farm life. I fear I will be a Sister of the abbey if my father gets his wish. He is displeased enough that Berrit has other plans.”

“Don’t you like it here?”

“I do, but…it’s not the same without Mother here. She got ill when caring for the sick last year and died.”

He is chastened at that, and tells her about his sisters and little niece and nephew, which doesn’t cheer her up much. She brightens a little, however, when he tells her that they could meet at the abbey again if she is home when he comes by the next time.

WATCHER’S NEWS:

Per the demand of his brother the Earl, Clement Dudley, current heir to the earldom, has wed Lady Katheryn Deane, daughter of the Earl of Huntsbury and cousin to Lady Petersmarch.

Prev: 1315 - 1317 Famine Casualties <--> Next: 1318, Day 2

[deusexmachinawitch]

This is the post post for days 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19 and 20. I was going to do 21 days of subliminals but because I’ve been sick and people have been asking me to extend this to a month or even 3 months, I might give a try on at least covering a whole month then I’ll see if I’ll extend it even more.

I’ve been mostly sick since there was a heatwave in my city and next week there’s going to be a severe weather change of cold and strong rain and storms. I’m chronically ill and while my health isn’t usually an issue, severe weather changes affect it. My defenses are really low and when someone arounds me carries something even as dumb as a cold, I get sick immediately. I feel much better but it has been hard juggling illness and work deadlines.

That being said, things haven’t been that bad. People close to me has brought me food and even my cousin came to take care of me and even did housework for me so I could rest. While this may sound like the most normal thing to anyone, in my case, this wouldn’t have been the case for me a year ago and even months ago. In my wildest dreams, I would have never imagined myself being this cared and treasured by so many people except for my SP. And when SP wasn’t around, I would be alone and miserable at bed whenever I was sick and that was very frequent.

With the discovery of the law, improving my self concept and the helpful subliminals… I don’t get as sick as often and when I do, I’m pretty much cared by others.

During this time, also people whom I thought cared about me showed their true colors and I decided to just think about myself. I was hurt on purpose and then gaslit, so I just wasn’t going to put up with that anymore. Especially because the same people have been gaslighting me for several months and disregarding my feelings towards matters that were really important to me. I decided to openly open up about this to a close circle of friends of mine and while people got really protective towards me, I told them that I could stand up for myself but I was really grateful that people finally understood my feelings and point of view when it came to things important to me such as my career path and my feelings towards SP.

While this isn’t a “cool manifestation” such as my phone and computer to possibly many people, this is a very valuable thing to me since my feelings tended to be dismissed a lot and there were a lot of people accepting me wanting SP for example but were really against him. But they finally understood that I’m aware of SP’s actions, I am not justifying the bad behavior and I can still love him while acknowledging that. Fear is one of the most scary feelings someone can have and it makes you do things that hurt you and others, he is now facing his demons and I know he’ll be back. But waiting doesn’t mean my life stops and that I’ll put up with hurtful behavior from him again if he cannot control his negative feelings. I’m in love but not pathetic.

Plus, what people doesn’t know is that I’m manifesting the best version of him. People currently think I’m lucky or that I do witchcraft and it works, it’s difficult for everyone to understand the law because of the fear of cults, the toxic positivity and wellness industry and that a lot of people are quite young in the community so they think it might be a fad. It doesn’t help that subliminals hav become famous due to the wrong reasons.

Still, it was shocking for people to hear my have an outburst and being strongly serious because I’m either too carefree or too controlled when it came to my feelings. But now, I know who’s a true friend and who’s not besides seeing who came to visit me when sick and whatnot. I don’t count the people who’re too busy with their own stuff though, I’m not that selfish.

As for my career path, somehow as soon as I voiced what I wanted to do, I am coming across tools and things that make my desires for my career path be either more easy or possible. So that’s another point for LoAss there lol.

About material things, I got many things for my new computer for free and it feels amazing. I have a new keyboard, small things to raise my screens, etc…

Still, one of the best things I’ve done with LoAss was to ask this to the law:

-I know what I feel about my SP, I’m totally sure about him. Still, I know that maybe I haven’t been as specific when it came to many things about what I want in this relationship to visualize this better. Because of my old story with parental abuse and even abuse by partners, it’s difficult to define what I would like because in the past I felt I wasn’t even given options. So, law, as a God… Show me what lies in my heart and how good in can get, turn SP into what I really want and need once you help me see better.

As soon as I did this, I came across romantic material and such that resonated with me. Also LoAss content that actually resonated with me and now I feel much calm and better. I really can feel I really shouldn’t worry. He really is with me because I’m the best.

I see the signs more intense than ever too… So I’m ready.

Still LOL how the hell am I going to explain many of the things in my life to him when we are together? I guess I’ll shroud myself in mystery, poor him.

[blanketwithcheese]

Bit of a goofy Lil sad post about me but I'm started to feel like a nuisance to everyone around me so I'm using my resources

So a couple months ago, I lost my room to my cousin at my mom's house, and it caused a HUGE rift in the relationship I have with my mom, and it already wasn't great. And after a year, I finally got my room back because my cousin left for summer, and even though I knew I would most definitely lose my room again when I left for school, atleast it was something.

That was until today, where my cousin came back and now SHE is missing a room, so I asked my mom what the room situation was and she said "well (cousin) is upset because she wants the room and your upset because you say it's your room"

I- IM SORRY?! ok, so you're telling me that I'm crazy for thinking it's my room because when we did a house tour you tried to convince me to take this room, am I crazy for thinking it's my room after we AGREED on the reasons I should have this room, YOUR TELLING ME that I'm crazy for thinking it's MY ROOM because when the initial argument about this happened you threw (cousin) under the bus. Oh my bad I didn't know that being told a room is MY ROOM and then thinking it's MY ROOM makes me insane, I didn't know it made me absolutely bonkers, I didn't know it made me astronomically unhinged. MY BAD ILL TRY AND DO BETTER NEXT TIME.

So after that little sentence I chose this moment to try and understand what dear old MOTHER thinks because we clearly aren't on the same page, so I asked her "is it not my room, it seems we aren't on the same page, so what do you think" and after a bit of background and forth of trying to drag it out of her because she kept trying to avoid the question, she responded "I don't know the situation I don't know"

...I'm sorry, apologies, guilt ridden?

You. Don't. Know. I'm happy I finally got an answer (and ignoring that it took this long), but it shouldn't be this hard to understand, when we looked at the house we all collectively decided that I got backdoor room, (cousin) got average room, and the parents got the guest bedroom and the couch, what's difficult about that.

Oh but wait a minute, you know when a couple words ago I said we all collectively decided, yeah I'm starting to think that wasnt the agreement my mom and cousin had because, before I left there wasnt a bedframe in the room, when I come back all of a sudden there's a loft bed, before I left there wasn't a TV, when I came back there was a chonken TV, before I left there were random boxes and shelves that were just thrown in there for convenience, when I came back shocker they were all gone. And the list of differences just keeps on going, the fake vines that are hung up in places I can't reach, the mini fridge, the 10 boxes worth of stuff scattered. All of that, and you mean to tell me that my cousin did that ALL herself, even if there wasn't an initial deal done where she would get my room while I was gone, they most Definitely helped her move her stuff the other room and that hurts just as much I'd say.

Now I'm sure you might be thinking "well clearly your not gonna be there all the time do you just expect them to have a useless empty room while your gone?" And to that I say no, I would have been fine if they used my room as storage or and office while I was gone but they didn't do that, they completely gave my room to someone else without telling or asking me and then tried to make my cousin look bad and then make me look bad, they alienated me in a home I'm supposed to feel safe and protected in, they made me feel homesick in a place I'm supposed to call a home, they took away my privacy and safety.

And in the end what did my mother say when she offered to discuss the situation "I just want you to feel comfortable the next couple of time you come here" and it took everything in my power to not tell her that it's too late for me to ever feel safe around here or around her, because she created a broken environment for me that she can't fix.

I think that if my younger self who also had to live with the same cosin saw the situation I was in right now, she would beat out cousin to the ground, I never liked my cousin because she was annoying and my mom would never pay attention to me and only give her attention to my cousin (I mean and Facebook but I didn't understand that part at the time) and now look where we are, I no longer have a female role model in my life AND i wish I was dead because my mom gave more attention to my cousin. This was a long post, but oh well. I only have to be here for a couple more weeks, and I'm already 110% done

[thinkpink212]

I live away from family too! Gosh, its been so hard, and with little to no friends I feel like I am loosing it! Any advice on how to deal and stuff? <3

Aww boo I hear you!

Keep in touch, but not too much Knowing how your loved ones are and communicating how you are, seem to always help me a great deal. But remember that a little distance is good when its healthy distance. What I mean is, make sure you are still doing your thing; working, cultivating your hobbies, staying on top of chores etc. Keep in touch with your family and friends, but also keep busy so that your mind doesn't constantly fixate on their absence. What ill do... ♡ Facetime my fav cousin from time to time. ♡ Call (or voice message) with my mom whenever were free ♡ Evening and morning texts with my closest friend (and try not to reply in the middle of the day unless it is urgent or I truly have time) ♡ Schedule meetups/trips in advance, especially with friends! Now a month like May is a little more special because you get to see your people for a few days! ♡ Randomly messaging "Hi, how are you" to my younger cousins who I don't think know how to really talk to me fully but have expressed their wish for more communication. Even if it is short interactions', I always ask for cool pictures from their week, updates etc.

Remind yourself why you aren't there but here It is important to always remember where you came from, why you are here and why you must stay! Sure, sometimes the justifications don't seem worth the loneliness, but trust me, at the end you will see how much you've achieved! Find people where you are, a temporary (with potential of permanence) family This could be via groups on facebook, sports classes, church, cool events happening around town. Get out there and meet people. But also remind yourself that being in a cowed or even a small gather, cannot fix the loneliness - but at least you could be distracted and having fun for a few hours! You are not alone!

Be prepared to ask for help, accept help but also the opposite Being alone means no one to lean on how you may have been able to before. Hard decisions, adulting and all of that is in your hands. You have to make the calls, schedule the appointments, make sure you're fed, clothed and good! But also, when it gets hard, ask for help; Need advice for your studies? ask your Guidance councilor(s), fellow students, professors etc. Confused about insurance? Call and ask all your 'stupid questions' (which, there is no such thing as a stupid question) Don't run from things and people trying to help. Of course have discernment, know when to say No Thank you, Ive Got it vs Thank you, Yes please. But (as said, the opposite can/will happen) Also know that you will ask for help, guidance, support and so on, and you will be given a No, here there and everywhere. Take those No's and place them next to the others and go on till you figure it out. You have to keep going!

Have savings This is always good to have, but having no family or people to truly rely on like that, its good to have a few $ in case something happens and you need to fly out, fly someone over or just cannot work (and there's no one to financially directly support you).

Have a Will This is a bit morbid, but in case anything happens to you, having a drawn up paper (can be made alongside a lawyer or just you writing it on paper, and signing) where you declare what you want done in case of your death, debilitation, accidents etc. You can also delegate your things! It lowkey helps me sleep a bit better knowing all of that is sorted. I have mine send to my email and as a file on my computer - but some people keep it with their passport etc.

Lastly, take care of yourself. Don't let nostalgia trick you into remembering times as being better due to loneliness (this is how you end up with toxic people from your past and attracting them to your presence). Your time is valuable, treat is like so! xo