#like... almost a third of my monthly income

[moripartylove]

Ridiculous, frivolous, completely unneccessary once-in-a-lifetime spending: check

[scribbling-dragon]

That One Time Tango and Jimmy Were Forced to Third-Wheel Their Friend (And His Maybe-Boyfriend?)

Summary:

“Doesn't the ruler, Scott, do anything about that?”

“Shush,” Tango’s hands come up to cover his mouth, his outburst loud enough that even Pixl is turning to look at them, a faintly amused expression on his face. “I swear, that man appears out of nowhere when you say his name. I don't want to see him today.”

“Aw,” a new voice, a heavily accented one that he’s definitely heard somewhere before, appears. “Didn't you want to see me today, Brimstone? I'm hurt, truly.”

-

Or, a deleted scene that had to get deleted because Pixl and Scott's flirting derailed the whole goddamn chapter

(AO3 Link)

(3,187 words)

this fic is related to adaptive nature and features a cut/deleted scene that some people wanted to see, so, here it is! reconstructed from the small snippets i still had saved. i apologise in advance for my very poor writing of flirting (and, as always, reblogs are appreciated if you liked it ;))

The building Tango makes a bee-line for is no less colourful than any of the other buildings, blending in amongst the surrounding buildings despite the offensively bright greens and yellows splashed across the front of it. The person at the counter leans forward as they approach, arms braced against the counter as they grin, eyes flashing.

“Brimstone,” the person greets easily. “Good to see you again.” It takes him a moment to realise they're addressing Tango. “And you, Archaeologist, though I must admit, it’s been a while since I've seen you in these parts. Find somewhere better?”

“I've recently picked up a habit of walking,” Pixl responds. “Though I don't see why it’s any concern of yours.”

“Losing a regular customer like that?” The person shakes their head, eyes widening. “Why, it took out at least a quarter of my monthly supply, I had to pick up another job on the side to make up for that loss of income.”

“You don't even take money, Sparrow.” Tango responds, digging around in his pockets. “How could that have an impact on your income?”

“A loss is a loss.” Sparrow, apparently, shrugs. “And you,” Sparrow turns to look at him now, “aren't you an interesting thing? You one of Brimstone’s new projects?”

“Quit bothering, Sparrow.” Tango says, dumping out a handful of various items on the counter, a few of them skittering across the wood and almost falling onto the ground. Sparrow catches them with a quick hand, fingers curling around the items as they bring them up to the light to inspect them.

“Protective, hm?” Sparrow’s eyes aren't on the object they're currently holding aloft, fixed on him instead. Their eyes are slitted, thin pupils barely visible against the bright-yellow. They flash with something close to amusement as they look between him and Tango, before winking.

“No,” Tango sighs. “Just busy. Is the payment sufficient?”

“I suppose so.” Sparrow drops the object back down to the counter, sweeping the items off and away from their eyes a moment later. “The usual ones are free, you know the ones I mean.”

“Thank you,” Tango drags out, giving a short bow as he backs away, before spinning on his heel. He lingers for a moment, staring at Sparrow, watching as they lean against the counter, blinking at him slowly, cat-like, before grinning sharply, sudden enough to almost startle him. He turns to follow behind Tango, finding Pixl still waiting for him, watching Sparrow with suspicious eyes.

Tango is already situating one of his horses inside the stable. He follows in Tango’s example, leading Arrow into the stable before turning her around. He finishes before both Tango and Pixl, and a moment of pity for Pixl has him helping the other man with a simple knot.

Tango appears to be taking his anger out on a piece of rope, when he leans over the stable door to find out what’s taking him so long. His tail flicks back and forth behind him, stiff with irritation as he picks at the knot, attempting to tug it loose.

“So,” Tango’s eyes flick over to him as he speaks, “Brimstone?”

“A name.” Tango reties the knot, lapsing into silence for a moment. “One of several.” The next knot seems to be one he’s at least halfway satisfied with, because he steps back and away from it, hands raised as though the rope is about to come alive and undo itself. Surprisingly, this doesn't happen.

“And Sparrow?” He finds himself asking. “A friend?”

“Something like that.” Tango says, and he steps back from the door to allow him outside, watching as he latches it shut. Pixl is already waiting for them, glancing around, as though he’s expecting something to happen.

Tango doesn't seem like he’s going to elaborate on the cryptic response, but his curiosity is killing him so he asks anyway. “Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.” Tango sighs, “But I will anyway.” He leans back against the wall of the stable, and he copies him, taking the weight off one leg. They still ache, so the break is appreciated, even if it’s only a sort-of break. Pixl seems content to wait a little longer too, turning around fully so his back is to them both, as he peers down a side street, craning his neck. It’s certainly odd behaviour for the archaeologist, but he’s far more interested in whatever Tango has to say.

“Sanctuary is known as the place you run to, you knew that, right?” Not what he expected to start with, but he nods anyway. “Well, it’s not the only one, but you’d only know Chromia is a city of runaways and fugitives if you asked around a bit.”

“Fugitives?”

“The fae are rarely forgiving.” Tango says, levelling him with an even stare. “I honestly thought you might be one, with the reluctance to give a name, and the incredibly vague details about where you came from. But,” he shrugs, “Guess not.”

“So, what, this whole place is just fae?”

“No. It’s a place for people to run to, people that truly have something to fear and wish to disappear among the colours of Chromia. Did you know, it’s really hard to recognise someone at a glance when they're wearing bright colours and have maybe dyed their hair? Because it is, they’ll recognise you, but you’ll simply see the swirl of colours first, and the blur of a face second. It’s a perfect place for hiding in plain sight.”

“How come you know this, then? Unless you're about to reveal you didn't actually grow up in the Guild.”

“I did grow up in the Guild,” Tango laughs, “But the people here are interesting. They bring news from overseas, of other areas of land, untouched by gods, or swarming with them.” He lowers his voice and leans closer, “I've heard there’s a land where the gods live, and those that step in there, and manage to escape with their lives intact, speak of massive buildings, glorious in every way and perfect in its strokes, in the way only the work of gods can be.”

“And do you believe in this place?” He asks, because he can't help himself, if only to have Tango’s face close to his own for a few moments longer.

“Maybe, I'm not quite sure yet.” He shrugs, “I've heard that the gods inhabiting the place keep to themselves. You only see them if they want you to, you only hear them if they want you to.”

“They don't sound particularly nice.” He frowns to himself, and Tango leans back, laughing.

“They don't sound particularly real, either.”

“I suppose not.” He sighs, “But it’s nice to speculate about, I suppose.”

“Speculating doesn't get us anywhere,” Tango pushes off the wall, and he follows, only wobbling slightly as his legs threaten to give out beneath him. “Now, where’s that list Alyssa gave you? I want to be out of here before sundown.”

“Any particular reason? Got something planned?” He knocks his shoulder into Tango's, waggling his eyebrows for further effect.

“No. I don't want to be in the City of Taverns, after dark, especially not anywhere near the central one.” He shudders, “Some of them have gotten being drunk down to an art, and manage it within minutes. It’s not something you want to see.”

“Doesn't the ruler, Scott, do anything about that?”

“Shush,” Tango’s hands come up to cover his mouth, his outburst loud enough that even Pixl is turning to look at them, a faintly amused expression on his face. “I swear, that man appears out of nowhere when you say his name. I don't want to see him today.”

“Aw,” a new voice, a heavily accented one that he’s definitely heard somewhere before, appears. “Didn't you want to see me today, Brimstone? I'm hurt, truly.”

“I don't want to see you on any day, Scott.” Tango growls, ears flattening back. He turns, taking a step back so he is no longer inbetween the two of them. Scott stands a few feet away, arms crossed and smirking at them, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Ouch,” Scott presses a hand to his chest. “I'm glad you and Pixl aren't the same in your attitude towards me, I don't think I’d be able to stand the rejection from such a beauty.” Scott winks over at Pixl, who…doesn't react. “Though I am interested as to what’s brought you and your favourite little Sheriff into my city, last I heard from you, you were vowing not to come back here?”

Pixl laughs a little at that, apparently choosing to come and stand a little closer. Tango scowls.

“Or did you drag him here again, Pix?” Scott tips his head to the side, a few chunks of hair falling forward. “C’mon, I thought we agreed after last time that it wasn't a repeat event?”

“I can think of several things we've discussed that weren't supposed to be repeat events.” Pixl says. And he’s still smiling, and it’s weird. It’s far too soft around the edges for someone as scary as Scott is. And yet’s he’s still looking at him with a weirdly soft air that doesn't suit him at all. “Such as the time I caught you in the Guild’s treasury? Hands buried amongst the various artefacts?”

“And that hasn't been a repeat event,” Scott frowns. “I'm pretty sure I’d know if I stole anything more.”

“And yet I continue to get complaints from the higher-ups about how that goddamn fae keeps stealing away all of my free time.”

Tango groans quietly next to him, and he can understand his frustration. He can't do anything but keep watching as Scott breaks out into a smile, something that is far softer than a smirk designed to wound someone before you even open your mouth to speak.

“Would you rather put our dinners on halt?” Scott asks, “Last I remember, you were quite-”

“Alright!” Tango shouts. “I don't want to hear that!”

“Aw,” Scott coos, “don't you want to hear about what your friend does in his free time?”

“Nope! I'm good!” Tango insists. His own cheeks are feeling a little warm, and he averts his eyes when Pixl looks at him. He doesn't know how else to describe the feeling other than complete second-hand embarrassment, warmth continuing to gather in his face as he steadfastly avoids Pixl’s eyes. “We have something to do here, and you're interrupting it.”

“Oh, please,” Scott smirks, smile sharp and dangerous again, “what are you doing? Shopping?” His eyes catch on the short list in his hand. “Oh! You are! What a waste of time,” he scoffs, “don't you have someone to do this for you while you do…whatever it is you do, Sheriff?”

“Every contribution is worth something. There’s no reason for me not to do this.” He protests. Scott tugs the list from his hand anyway, reading over it quickly and shaking his head. His ears sway with the movement, jewellery flashing as it catches the sun.

“I’ll have this sorted for you,” he says, tucking the list away into some pocket on his shirt. “Now, I have something far more pressing to ask you.”

“Uhm,” Scott’s eyes flash dangerously as he leans a little closer, far more in his personal space than he’s strictly comfortable with. “And what would that be?”

“Oh, nothing really,” Scott looks away, feigning disinterest, “I'm only curious as to why you bear the Dragon’s mark, really.” His breath catches in his throat at Scott’s words, feeling his own eyes widen as he tries to think of a suitable answer.

“Scott,” Pixl tugs him away, muttering in something that is definitely not Common, and also not any language he recognises. Scott frowns at Pixl, brushing some of his hair back, which only causes the historian to pause for a moment before continuing. Scott replies in that same language, frustration curling around his words.

He looks at Tango, curious as to whether he can understand what either of them are saying. Tango’s eyes are far away, staring into the distance, as though he’d rather be anywhere but here. He looks back at Scott and Pixl again, finds them almost nose-to-nose as they continue conversing, and looks away again.

It takes them several, long moments before they seem to come to an agreement, during which Scott brushes back Pixl’s hair several times, and Pixl brushes a hand down the front of Scott’s shirt no less than five times. Normally, he’s quite tolerant when it comes to displays of affection, but this is just embarrassing. For both him and for Pixl.

“Scott’s going to get that sorted for you.” Pixl says, returning to Common. Tango blinks, the faraway look in his eyes disappearing, instead lighting up with glee.

“Great!” He turns back around. “We can leave then, bye Scott, lovely seeing you, hope I never have to see you again!”

“And I've also invited you for drinks at the tavern,” Scott interrupts. “On the house.”

“No.” Tango says.

“Pixl’s already agreed on your behalf.” Scott grins. “Unless you want to indirectly break Pix’s deal with me?” He doesn't quite understand what it means, but it must hold more significance than he understands, because Tango turns back around, though not without several protests.

“Wonderful,” Scott smiles. “Just this way, then.”

Sparrow grins at them as they pass by their desk again, waving them off silently, winking at him once more. Maybe that’s just how they blink? He doesn't understand what the winking is for. Tango makes a rude gesture at them anyway, which doesn't succeed in very much but getting him a laugh from Scott and a reprimand from Pixl.

“Oh, dear, don't worry about that. Sparrow certainly deserves to be knocked down a few pegs. Which, why on earth would you stable your horses with them? You know my tavern has stables that are far nicer than that- they're far more comfortable too, don't you remember-”

“Oh my gods,” Tango hisses out, dropping his head into his hands. “I can't, I can't do this again. I can't.”

“It can't be that bad, can it?” He asks. “Right?”

Tango gives him a look that speaks volumes. He shuts his mouth with a small “ah”, nodding his head. He glances back at Scott and Pixl, watching as the former stretches his arms up, before allowing one to fall back around Pixl’s shoulder.

“It’s actually sickening.” Tango says, watching the two in front of them as well. “I hate them.”

“I don't see how this is that bad.” They move around a small group of friends travelling in the opposite direction to them. He ignores the few smothered laughs and the way they're glancing back at Pixl and Scott before laughing again. Several people greet Pixl, too, waving to him. Some even go so far as to nudge him, as though in encouragement.

He doesn't let his mind stray too far down the path of thinking what that encouragement might be.

“Pixl seems happy, at least.” He tries.

“Yeah, course he is.” Tango makes a sound in the back of his throat. “They've been sickeningly in love for-fucking-ever. And the Guild never lets Pix come here alone, so of course I have to come with him.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Tango’s eyes glaze over. “All the walls here are thin.”

“Ew!” He gasps out. “I didn't need to know that.”

“Neither did I!” Tango shoves him. “How do you think I felt!”

The building, which he assumes to be the tavern, is already bustling with people, despite how early in the day it is. Scott steps neatly over someone passed out on the steps, extending a hand for Pixl, as though he couldn't make it over himself. Tango gags next to him, rather loudly.

The tavern is no less noisy inside, scraping against his already sensitive ears and making them ring. Scott doesn't pause, though, simply nodding to- is that a llama behind the bar? Apparently it is, and no one bats an eye at the llama serving them their drinks. Scott continues on his way through the bar, him and Pixl weaving through the clusters of people gathered around tables where there aren't enough seats as though it’s second-nature.

The room Scott leads them to is small, but well-decorated, with several plush seats scattered around, and even a small sofa tucked in the corner. Drinks are already laid out on the table.

“Did you know we were coming?” Tango regards the drinks with suspicion.

“How couldn't I know?” Scott smirks at Tango, directly, before turning back to Pixl. “It’s been so long since I last saw you, my heart was simply aching to be in your presence again; I couldn't help but notice when you entered Chromia, it was like a beacon I couldn't unsee.”

“It hasn't been that long,” Pixl tries to say, though the tips of his ears are turning red. He wishes, in that moment, for the ground to swallow him whole- just so he doesn't have to watch this.

“Every moment we spend apart is like an eon to me.” Scott says.

“You're awfully sappy today,” Pixl says. “Any particular reason for that?”

Scott doesn't respond, simply humming, settling himself a little further into his seat. He sits on it like a king upon his throne, sprawled and comfortable, legs wide as he watches him and Tango sit down too. The seat sinks below him far too much, and he has to grip onto the armrest to not feel like he’s about to be swallowed whole.

“Can I not simply miss you?” Scott turns to look at Pixl, chin resting in his hand. “Is a bird not allowed to miss the sky? Is a fish not allowed to miss the water? Am I not allowed to miss you, especially as you've been busy with your important project recently.”

“Quit it with the poetry.” Tango groans. “We get that you're old, you don't need to remind us with your shoddy flirting.”

“And has your flirting ever worked for you?” Scott asks. “Tell me, when was the last time you successfully flirted with someone?”

Tango remains silent.

“Thank you,” Scott smiles. “Besides, my flirting works. It may be old, but that just means it worked for a lot more people. More than you can say about your flirting.”

“Your flirting only works because Pixl’s a weirdo.” Tango scoffs. “It says nothing about your proficiency, just that he’s into older guys.”

“Brimstone.” Pixl says.

“It’s true,” Tango protests, sitting up a little straighter. “Am I not allowed to have an opinion?”

“No.”

“Well, I should get one,” Tango crosses his arms, slumping down in his seat. “Especially as I have to watch it.”

“Never thought you were into that kind of stuff, Brimstone. If I’d known, I’d have-”

“Nope!” Tango shoots up again. “Whatever you were about to say, I don't want to hear it. I don't care.”

“Okay,” Scott says, “if you change your mind…”

He sinks a little further into his seat, wondering how quickly he would be able to escape out of that window if needed.

[dizzyluc]

Incoming vent rant (needed to air out my anger after the past 3 days, considering my pain level I'd say is at a 6 out of 10, and the more constant pain I'm in, the more pissed I get lol...)

This month, let alone this week, has not been kind to me... and it's only Tuesday, THE THIRD ">_> When this month starts off shitty due to something personal related (not health related thankfully, (although it IS insurance related is all I'll say, it could definitely be worse though, but...) it's actually put me in a pretty pissy mood these past few days, which I'm praying Friday it's taken care of, so hoping Friday goes over well) Monday, my "rest up before a long ass week" day, I had to take my car in to get an oil change as my light just lit up, went to a "Take 5" and after waiting 30 minutes, being inside the place that does it, with my car off cause no idea when they would actually just "start" doing stuff... "Oh, we don't have the right thing to change your oil, so we can't do it." THANKS FOR SAYING IT AFTER MAKING ME WAIT (instead of checking real quick if it can be done... then having me wait for everyone that came before me go... although I think they were understaffed too) Then after, I go to a local donut place, that I have been trying to get a coconut flavor for, for WEEKS, even went the day before and they said "oh we will have it tomorrow!" and they still didn't have it... (they have said this 3 times now at this point) pretty much making my outing a complete waste of time. Today being Tuesday? I've been almost crashed into 6+ times (at least twice my mom yelped at people almost creaming me) The donut place, after saying I'd be back at noon today? "It will be ready at 5-6 today!" How. Many. Times... I drop my mom off for her appointment, which normally this one takes 3 hours due to ALWAYS being behind, get a Slurpee... which tasted like a cheap drink... and then every place I went to, for SOME reason, after lunch? Big lines. I get done with the final place almost, expecting to get back and chill and relax after such a hectic afternoon and week so far... (after picking up a pizza cause a good deal usually happened at a certain pizza place nearby on Tuesdays) Mom texts: Oh, I'm just about done, there was no one in the doctor's office today! So we can keep doing errands once you get back! Me thinking... "Can I get just 5 minutes... FIVE. MINUTES." Dealt with more cars trying to ram me (If you go to Florida, be VERY CAUTIOUS about driving here, the people are lunatic drivers, even more so lately it feels like, literally had to slam on my brakes twice today because people THINK THEY OWN THE ROAD, TO PULL OUT IN FRONT OF ME) After finally eating today (I only had donut holes at this point btw today... it was pizza though, but...)

I think my nerves from all the shit happening these past few days finally caught up to me and I got nauseated for like an hour or so, which going back to the donut place didn't help (it still wasn't ready when I got there, it was almost 6 pm) and after they brought it out... it wasn't even the right donuts. "Wait, OHHHH... you wanted the white, coconut donuts we served like, 3 months ago right? With the coconut drizzle? Oh yeah, no that was discontinued." Me thinking: ... I LITERALLY TOLD YOU THIS EVERY TIME "I want the coconut donut that had white frosting, and coconut flakes drizzled on top of the donut" I got whatever the hell they made, got home, let dogs out (while it pretty much was almost raining) and it took me 2 hours to get a shower and now lay down in bed. ... and it just keeps going tomorrow lol... (Gotta be ready by noon, and will be out probably till 6 or so doing "Military Monthly run" aka pick up medicine, pick up veterinarian stuff for dogs, maybe mail some stuff or do a bank run (these 2 not always), followed by pick up cards and any random stuff at the Base Exchange, then the Commissary for almost 2 hours for the family monthly grocery supply [and this is why I call it "grocery day" as it's an all day affair, that literally is dedicated for goods for the month])

[javihavee]

idk if this will help at all, but just in case you didn't know, you can notify your school of "special circumstances" (like your mom getting laid off) for them to reevaluate your financial aid. many schools also which have costs like orientation or for similar things also have options to ask for it to be waived, so that might be something to check out. i'm also not sure about dates since im not a first year student, but i think FAFSA applications are still open. it doesn't take super long. best wished to you and your family!

Thanks for the ask! I'll use it as an opportunity to elaborate a little on my situation, for those who might be interested in knowing a little bit more.

So. This is all information that I have considered and discussed with my parents. Unfortunately, my institution in particular doesn't offer financial aid in case of one of my parents getting laid off, they only offer aid if one of them passes away suddenly.

Also, regarding the FAFSA applications; I am not from the US. I have other government assistance programs that I have already applied for, but unfortunately I won't be seeing the results of my application until April 17th. And that's only regarding the results.

Until then, and this is why I ask for help, I am completely and fully in the dark. However, if I manage to get in one of the aid programs, the month of May and onward should relatively be smooth sailing. The programs I applied for include a monthly 43 dollar deposit on a government issued debit card, which only works if you're buying groceries and food in general, together with student loans.

But also, I must say, it's not even been a day and I've already almost reached my goal. I might be in the dark regarding the applications for government financial aid as I mentioned, but I'll be able to afford a set of clean clothes and my meals for the month, and the next, until I get the results back.

Thank you for asking, and reblogging, and donating and commissioning me, I actually cried a little. I live in a third world country where the wages and average income aren't a lot to begin with, so I don't exaggerate when I tell you guys that this actually genuinely means the world to me.

I'll update the thread once the goal is reached. Again, thanks.

[mxtantrights]

the transfer | 2

a/n: here’s part two. I think it’s gonna get a bit wild before anyone gets their happy ending. take that as a warning or a joke, whatever feels best *evil  laugh*

If your ex- boss were a reasonable and peaceful man you would just give him his property back. And if said property were just a binder full of monthly office spending or drafts of an incoming speech, you would return his property.

But your ex-boss is Lex Luthor. And his property is a somewhat detailed plan to kill superman.

So you’re not going to give it back.

No way.

You show up to work shortly after. At this point you are walking with the newspaper filled with sticky notes on you at all times. There is no way you can leave it at home. And you’re lucky that Luthor thought you were smarter than that at first.

And that’s why you move your lunch break an hour up and finish early and now you’re chatting up one of your co-workers. Specifically one you’ve talked to before, and who you know for a fact is dating your new boss’s son.

“So I am talking to you for a reason...” you trail off.

“I knew you were, so what can I do for you?” they ask.

You being to shake your head, “It’s not really a- well It’s more of like a game of telephone that needs to commence.”

“A game of telephone?” they repeat, almost like they aren’t following.

But you can tell they are because they don’t have a look on their face that they think you’re off the tracks. No, they look genuinely concerned. 

“I tell you, you tell your boyfriend, he tells his father, his father tells the commissioner and he tells... you know who.” you say.

At that they are confused. So you fashion your two pointer fingers to the side of your head for makeshift ears. And then you frown. Immediately they get it and you drop your hands to your sides.

“It’s not about him, but a co-worker of his. It’s really important and time is the enemy here. For me and the person it’s about.” you explain.

“Are you in trouble? I know you worked for Luthor before this, is he after you?” they ask.

You solemnly nod , “Yeah but in the grand scheme of his plan I’m a nuisance, a pest. It’s his intended target that we need to help.”

At that, they take out their phone. You can see them tap three times before they look back up at you.

“Okay tell me what you need me to say, I’ll let my boyfriend know.” they say.

You relay some of the info that doesn’t give anything away. You don’t know how far Luthor’s reach is and he is not one to respect privacy laws and such, not with the way he’s got a whole plan to kill superman. 

They send the text after. 

They also offer for you to stay at their place. Which was a really warm offer but one you had to turn down. No way you got someone else involved in this. Let alone someone you could consider a friend, if your employment and your life should continue after all of this.

No. This would just be you. And hopefully batman can tell superman about this in a timely manner and everything can be solved. And your life can be spared from the wrath of Lex Luthor.

-

As you're leaving for the day, you tidy your desk. You may slip a pad of sticky notes into your bag. You can never go wrong with stealing office supplies from CEOs who are literal billionaires.

You say goodbye to the few people left on your floor as you get into the elevator. It’s silent on the way down, you're the only one in the elevator. You would think Bruce Wayne would spring for elevator music.

The sixteenth floor turns into fifteenth, fourteenth, then it gets down to tenth. The elevator stops and the doors roll open. a couple of suits get inside with you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but you don’t know why. 

It’s just five people in suits. They’re probably all going home too. Luthor’s first attempt to get to you, and it’s success, really has you on edge. You’re not even going home tonight you’re spending the night in a motel.

The tenth floor goes down. Ninth, eighth, seventh. Down down down. Third.

The elevator stops and the door rolls open again. You preemptively take a step back to make space but when you see the familiar blue and black spandex you stop. 

It happens fast.

One second you’re in the elevator. And the next Nightwing is grabbing your arm and pulling you out. 

The two of you are running. It’s a mad dash into the floor’s office space. You can hear footsteps behind you. It was the five people in the elevator. The hairs on the back of your neck were for a reason.

Intuition.

“Funny running into you like this.” he says.

You’re not sure how he’s making jokes and running so fast, while also dragging you along. You’re out a breath already and can’t think of anything witty to respond with. How could you? You were almost successfully gotten by Luthor again.

When the two of you get to the window, Nightwing shoots out the glass. It makes you scream. The broken glass, the chill coming from outside. You look over at him with wide eyes.

“No way.”

“I need you to trust me on this one.”

“No fucking way it’s three stories!” you shout.

“I’m not asking you to land on the ground. He’ll catch you.” he says.

He? He who? 

You poke your head out of the window and see no one in particular.

“There’s no one down there.” you speak quickly.

Nightwing grabs onto your shoulders and makes you face him, “I need you to trust me.” 

And with that you swallow down the lump in your throat. You nod your head over and over. You grab onto your bag tightly and jump out the window. In hindsight there is a saying about this somewhere, your friends are jumping off a bridge, do you join them?

But Nightwing isn’t your friend and this isn’t a bridge. This is an open window, where Gotham pavement stares back at you. 

You shut your eyes, ready for impact for the concrete when- it doesn’t happen.

You hit something thought. You open your eyes and right when you do you feel the wind hit your body. You're moving. Your eyes move up and up until it meets those of one you didn’t think you’d see tonight.

Batman.

Batman has you bundled in his arms like a folded doll and is grappling across the city. You are trying your best not to scream at the motions and the mere gravity of the situation. You opt to shut your eyes again.

It doesn’t take long for all the motion to stop. Then you realize it’s because he’s stopped and he’s planted firmly on his two feet. You open your eyes and he’s not even looking at you, he’s faced straight ahead. 

“This is equal parts embarrassing and cool but, Mr.Batman, could you put me down?” you ask.

He adjust and you’re able to put your own feet on the ground. You get used to being on solid ground and are able to breathe a bit better. 

“I heard you were looking for me?” he asks.

You nod your head rapidly and dig right into your bag for the file. When it’s in your grip you pull it out and hand it over to him.

“My old boss accused me of taking something from the office, and at first I didn’t think I did until last night I went through my stuff that I packed and I saw that.” you explain.

You watch as he opens the newspaper. No doubt reading the sticky notes and coming to the same conclusion that you did.

“Nightwing tells me Luthor came after you.” 

“He did. Nightwing was able to get there in time, just like tonight.” you answer.

He hums and then closes the newspaper. Then he looks right at you.

“Consider the situation handled.” he says.

You hesitate, “Just like that? I can go home and not have to worry that Lex Luthor isn’t gonna come knocking?” 

There’s silence. For quite a while. It makes you look around to make sure that nothing else is happening in your general vicinity that is making batman distracted. But batman doesn’t get distracted. Ever.

“I can arrange something if you’d like.” he says.

If it were any other superhero you would trust it a bit less. But it’s batman. And you know that you're new to Gotham and all but he doesn’t mess around. If he can arrange for you safety, you trust it.

“I’d really appreciate it.” you answer.

He nods once. And then he’s taking off. Like running away from you and off the rooftop of the building that you both were on, grappling hook out and swinging. Then he’s gone into the night.

“Did I- did batman just ditch me?” you ask yourself out loud, not expecting a response.

“Most people don’t even get a nod.” 

You shout and turn around.

Nightwing.

He’s standing right near the edge. On the edge actually, like he likes it that way.

You place your hand over you chest, “You scared the living daylights out of me.”

“Sorry,” he raises both hands in surrender and steps off the edge and close to you, “I don’t intend to scare you anymore tonight.”

At his words you grow a bit intrigued. 

“What do you mean by that?” you ask.

“I can bring you to a safe house.”

“Until this all blows over?”

He nods with a smile, and then he’s holding his hand out for you to take. The fear of jumping off a high story building builds in your chest and you have yo clear your throat to ease the nerves.

“Can we take the steps?” you ask.

Nightwing chuckles a bit and then he’s walking towards then past you. All the way to the rooftop door. You watch as he shimmies it open and beckons you forward. 

This is the night that you feel it. Being saved by the man under the mask twice. How comfortable you feel. You haven’t felt that in a long time. And now you do, because of nightwing. 

You jog over to him and through the rooftop door, down the steps. Nightwing right behind you.

[theyoutubeg]

How To Make Money On Youtube Without Ads

Some of the links included in this article are affiliate links. This means that if you click on the link and make a purchase, I may earn a commission. I only recommend products or services that I have personally used and believe will add value to my readers.

Hello, It’s The YouTube G. I’m glad you’re interested in learning how to make money on YouTube without ads. Ads are not the only way to monetize your YouTube channel. In fact, there are many other ways to earn income from your videos that don’t require you to join the YouTube Partner Program or meet the minimum requirements for monetization. In this blog article, I will share with you 11 best ways to make money on YouTube without ads in 2023. Let’s get started!

1. Affiliate Marketing

Affiliate marketing is one of the easiest and most popular ways to make money on YouTube without ads. Affiliate marketing means that you promote a product or service from a third-party company and earn a commission for every sale or action that you generate through your unique affiliate link. You can find affiliate programs for almost any niche or industry, such as Amazon Associates, ClickBank, ShareASale, etc. To make money with affiliate marketing, you need to create videos that are relevant to the product or service you are promoting, and include your affiliate link in the video description or on-screen. You can also use tools like linktree to create landing pages for your affiliate links and showcase your recommendations.

2. Sponsorships

Sponsorships are another way to make money on YouTube without ads. Sponsorships mean that you get paid by a brand or company to feature their product, service, or message in your videos. Sponsorships can be very lucrative, especially if you have a large and engaged audience that trusts your opinion and recommendations. To get sponsorships, you need to pitch yourself to potential sponsors and show them how you can help them reach their target audience and goals. Fastest way to get sponsors >> https://linktr.ee/challengeyt23

That way you can speed the verification process and get sponsor clients

3. Membership

Membership is another way to make money on YouTube without ads. Membership means that you offer exclusive content, perks, or benefits to your loyal fans who pay a monthly or yearly fee to join your community. Membership can help you build a stronger relationship with your audience and create a steady source of income from your YouTube channel.

4. Merchandise

Merchandise is another way to make money on YouTube without ads. Merchandise means that you sell physical products that are branded with your logo, name, catchphrase, or design. Merchandise can help you increase your brand awareness and loyalty among your fans and give them a way to show their support for your channel. To sell merchandise, you need to use a platform like Spring, Spreadshop, or Suzuri to create and print your products on demand and ship them directly to your customers. You can also use the YouTube merch shelf feature (if you are eligible) to display your products below your videos.

5. Digital Products

Digital products are another way to make money on YouTube without ads. Digital products mean that you sell intangible products that can be downloaded or accessed online, such as ebooks, courses, software, music, etc. Digital products can help you showcase your expertise and skills and provide value to your audience in exchange for money. To sell digital products, you need to use a platform like [Gumroad], [Teachable], or [Podia] to create and host your products and collect payments from your customers.

6. Services

Services are another way to make money on YouTube without ads. Services mean that you offer your time, knowledge, or skills to help others achieve their goals or solve their problems. Services can help you demonstrate your authority and credibility in your niche and generate income from your YouTube channel. To offer services, you need to use a platform like [Fiverr], [Upwork], or [Calendly] to create and market your services and communicate with your clients.

7. Crowdfunding

Crowdfunding is another way to make money on YouTube without ads. Crowdfunding means that you raise funds from your audience or the public for a specific project, cause, or goal. Crowdfunding can help you finance your creative endeavors and involve your fans in the process of making them happen. To launch a crowdfunding campaign, you need to use a platform like [Kickstarter], [Indiegogo], or [GoFundMe] to create and promote your campaign and collect donations from your backers.

8. Live Streaming

Live streaming is another way to make money on YouTube without ads. Live streaming means that you broadcast your video content in real time to your audience and interact with them through chat or comments. Live streaming can help you increase your engagement and retention with your viewers and create a more personal and authentic connection with them. To make money from live streaming, you need to use features like [Super Chat] and [Super Stickers] (if you are eligible) to receive tips from your fans during your live streams.

9. Licensing

Licensing is another way to make money on YouTube without ads. Licensing means that you allow other people or organizations to use your video content for a fee or a royalty. Licensing can help you reach a wider audience and generate passive income from your YouTube channel. You can learn that here >> https://linktr.ee/challengeyt23

To license your videos, you need to use a platform like [Jukin Media], [Rumble], or [Newsflare] to submit your videos and get paid when they are used by other media outlets.

10. Collaborations

Collaborations are another way to make money on YouTube without ads. Collaborations mean that you work with other creators or brands to create and share video content that benefits both parties. Collaborations can help you grow your audience, exposure, and revenue by cross-promoting each other’s channels and products. To collaborate with others, you need to network and reach out to potential partners that have a similar or complementary niche, audience, and style as yours.

11. Donations

Donations are another way to make money on YouTube without ads. Donations mean that you ask for voluntary contributions from your audience to support your channel and content creation. Donations can help you cover your expenses and invest in improving the quality and quantity of your videos. To accept donations, you need to use a platform like [PayPal], [Stripe], or [Bitcoin] to create and share your donation link with your fans.

Conclusion

These are 11 best ways to make money on YouTube without ads in 2023. As you can see, there are many opportunities and options for you to monetize your YouTube channel beyond ads. You don’t have to limit yourself to one revenue stream, but rather experiment with different ones and see what works best for you and your audience. The key is to provide value, quality, and consistency in your videos and build a loyal and engaged fan base that supports your channel. And if you need to grow and monetize your channel in less than 30 days there’s a free ebook in this private telegram group you should check out by clicking here >> https://linktr.ee/challengeyt23

It also gives you access to a premium YouTube blueprint to help anyone even a complete beginner scale their channel .

I hope this blog article has been helpful and informative for you. If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to leave them below. Thank you for reading! 😊

[filmnoirfoundation]

ASK EDDIE - January 5 2022

In case you missed last night’s episode....

FNF prez Eddie Muller responds to film noir fan questions fielded by the Foundation's Director of Communications Anne Hockens. In this episode, we discuss bar hopping in Oakland for NOIR CITY 20 attendees, “Crossfire” supporting actor Paul Kelly’s real life noir story, our favorite non-verbal acting moments in noir and more. We wind things up with answering questions about how we met, if we played sports in high school and if we eat snacks at the cinema. On the cat front, Emily’s dark secret is revealed.

Want your question answered in a future episode? We solicit questions from our email subscribers in our monthly newsletters. Sign up for free at https://www.filmnoirfoundation.org/signup.html

Everyone who signs up on our email list and contributes $20 or more to the Film Noir Foundation receives the digital version of NOIR CITY Magazine for a year. Donate here.

Note: Eddie will not be able to answer questions posted during the livestream nor ones left on our social media accounts

This week’s questions:   

1. Do you have any recommendations for bar hopping in Oakland during Noir City 20?  — Dave and Fiona   

2. Being high risk can’t do indoor events sadly. Will you ever do Streaming Film Noir Festival? — Cindy  

3. Why isn’t “Force of Evil” more readily available in the United States?? — Rob 

4. I was visiting Italy recently and happened to catch “Black Tuesday” at the Cinema Ritrovato film festival along with a few more films directed by the neglected director Hugo Fregonese. What are the chances of a Blu-ray release please? — Joseph   

5. I know it’s a great, prescient movie, but is “A Face in the Crowd” considered noir? Follow up: Andy Griffith, like Fred McMurray in “Double Indemnity” and Raymond Burr (in almost any noir he appeared in), packs a special punch due to roles they’d perform in LATER in their career.  Are there other more obscure performances you relish because they were “playing against type” versus later roles that you enjoy? — Stevemc   

6. Would love to hear what you can tell us about the male character in “Crossfire” whose scenes all take place in Ginny’s (Gloria Grahame) apartment.  His dialogue was so amusingly bizarre.  I believe the actor was Paul Kelly. — Margaret, Clifton VA   

7. What are some of your favorite or most memorable nonverbal moments in noir? For me, Gene Tierney's performance as Ellen in “Leave Her to Heaven” stands out. — Christy, Grants Pass, OR. 

8. Did contemporary 'Film Noir' audiences have a clear demographic in terms of age, location, income and so forth? — Mark, United Kingdom.     

9. I am eager to learn more about the "B" world and wonder if you have any recommendations for books or other resources on the Poverty Row studios and the people behind them? — Anna   

10. I heard about “Please Murder Me” featuring two of my favs, Angela Lansbury and Raymond Burr. Could you please show it soon? — Mary   

11. What do you consider the FIRST TRUE NOIR FILM? I thought "Stranger on the third floor" OR "Rebecca" OR "they drive at night", or WHAT FILM??? — Spencer   

12. I find there is a strong distinction between noir films made in the 1940s, compared to those from the 1950s. Films in the 1950s seem more realistic and are often shot on location. The male actors are frequently unshaven, wear cheap clothes and never have any money. The female characters are more vulnerable and far less glamorous compared to woman in films from the prior decade. In 40s films, everybody is cleanly scrubbed and well-dressed. I assume the ending of The Production Code contributed to this more realistic noir look in the 1950s. Eddie, your thoughts. — Loren from Chicago   

13. Where did Eddie and Anne first meet? Was there any athletic sport you two played in high school? I like to watch a movie in a theater without eating/drinking.  How about you two, is popcorn a must have? Soft drinks etc.???? — Alan Rossi, San Anselmo, CA

[phantom-le6]

Ramble of the month April 2024: Autism Month Ramble on Employment

At last, we come round to the third April, the third Autism Awareness Month, since I started doing monthly ramble articles, and so once again I’m drawing on my experiences as an autistic person to raise that awareness.  For 2022, I looked at relationships, and last year the subject was education.  This time, I’m going to look into the question of employment in relation to people with autism.  This one is always a big concern for parents of children on the autistic spectrum, and as an employed autistic person struggling to get to an income level I can live alone on, it’s still a big concern for me as well.  This is also a subject covered in the autism book I’m trying to publish, so here’s to road-testing that content a little more.

Now so far, I don’t get much feedback either way on my Tumblr posts, but I want to clarify some things before we go any further.  First, what I’m writing here is very much going to be based on me as a private autistic individual.  Nothing I say here should be in any way taken as a reflection on my day job, and if anyone does, that’s your mistake, and I bear no responsibility for it.  Second, as a person with autism, I consider myself an ally to other groups that are misunderstood and subject to prejudice, so odds are as you go on, there might be elements that take a pro-LGBTQ+ stance.  No offense is intended in anything I say, but if you take anything pro-LGBTQ+ as offensive, I recommend you stop reading now.  For those carrying on, remember, I’m ok with constructive criticism, but I have no tolerance for bullying/trolling/abuse of any kind, so remember to keep any feedback civil, or otherwise please just refrain from commenting.

Now, as ever when I talk about autism, I always like to go over the basics of what autism is, how it can affect people who are autistic, and so on.  First, autism is one of a number of conditions that falls under the umbrella of neurodiversity, which is a term used to describe the idea that there is more than one valid way for human minds and brains to function.  Because these conditions result in deficits in certain skills and areas of learning, they’re often categorised as a form of disability or mental ill health, but in truth they are neither.  I use the term ‘differently abled’ to describe myself because I can do most things non-autistics can; I just have to do them very differently in some cases.  Likewise, autism is not a mental illness; it’s simply a different version of mental fitness, though we can still be affected by mental illness in ways similar to non-autistic people.

As to what causes autism, all anyone really knows is that people who are autistic are born that way.  It’s not the result of vaccines, and as I noted last year, I view the claim that vaccines cause autism as a form of anti-autistic hate speech which should be criminalised accordingly.  It’s also not the result of bad parenting or a lack of discipline, and while many autistics are prone to incidents of meltdown, these outbursts do not stem from aggressive or malicious personalities.  Autistic people are on one “mental wave-length”, everyone else is on another such “wave-length”, and the frustration and friction between the two leads to incidents of meltdown.

Now let’s consider the traits of autism.  Primarily, autism is defined by social skill deficits that fall into the three areas of what is known as the ‘Triad of Impairment’.  If someone has traits within all three areas of the triad, as well as the other associated traits of autism, then they are almost certainly autistic.  The first area of difficulty is Social Communication, which deals with how people put across what they want to say and the social skills linked to that.  Second is Social Interaction, which are all the social skills you need to accurately interpret what others say to you.  Third is Social Imagination, which is the aspect of social skills linked with your ability to anticipate how others may react to your words and actions.

The impairments in these areas seem to stem primarily from the fact that the mind of an autistic person doesn’t learn social skills automatically through observation and interpretation as non-autistics do.  In effect, the “social skill auto-pilot” present in neurotypical minds is not present for autistic people, and we have to learn social skills through explicit, direct instruction and implement them in the same way.  This also gives us a very literal mindset, making us prone to missing the point of jokes, or perhaps not even recognising where a joke has been told.  Likewise, figures of speech and metaphor can be a major challenge for us (like Drax from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but less stupid).

Other autistic traits include a high need for predictability to offset how confusing we find the world around us.  Routine and advance knowledge of any major changes that we might find disruptive are two ways this need can be met, but a third that is highly unique to autistics is the concept of special interests.  This can be anything we develop an interest in that we find predictable, and because predictability is vital to our mental well-being, special interests occupy a lot of our minds at any given time.  For this reason, such interests can be mistaken for obsessions, but obsessions are ultimately joyless where special interests are highly enjoyable to us.  Some also mistake them for hobbies, but that’s too casual a label given the role they play for autistic people.

The last couple of traits to go over are sensory issues and coinciding special needs.  The first stems from the altered brain chemistry that results in autism, or such was the case last I heard, and causes senses to either be ramped up (hyper-sensitive) or ramped down (hypo-sensitive).  These can result in behaviours known as “stimming”, which as I understand it is seeking a specific sensory experience as a way to calm down, though to be honest it’s one trait of autism I don’t think I’ve ever shown myself.  As such, I’m not sure if it’s because it’s down to specific sensory needs (I’m a hearing-and-taste hyper-sensitive) or where someone is on the autistic spectrum.  There’s also a general processing delay in terms of how long autistic people take to process new information, so at times we might seem a bit slow in our reactions to things, and can easily be flustered by the new and the unexpected; another reason for our dependence on predictability.

The final trait, that of coinciding special needs, means just that.  Autistic people are very rarely just autistic.  Many have other needs, though what these are vary quite widely.  Some can have ADHD, be dyslexic, have major sensory impairments, and so on.  In this respect, I’ve been sort of lucky in that my other special needs are a general impairment of my hand-eye co-ordination and gross motor skills.  Granted, that almost certainly doesn’t combine well with my sensory processing delay, but at least it’s otherwise separate and distinct from my autism.

Now a moment ago I mentioned the concept of the autistic spectrum.  Autism is a very varied form of neurodiversity, and when I used to give talks on the subject, a frequent phrase that came up at the talks was “when you’ve met one person with autism, you’ve met one person with autism.”  Even looking at the handful of autistic people I was a part of when delivering those talks, that phrase is easily understood as true.  However, the spectrum model of “high-to-low functioning” is often misinterpreted as being a sliding scale of autistic severity.  This is totally untrue; a supposedly “high-functioning” autistic like myself can have needs just as profound as those of a “low-functioning” autistic.

To my mind, the misinterpretation stems from what are known as masking behaviours.  These are any behaviours that effectively conceal autistic traits from being observed by mimicking neurotypical behaviours, and are the key reason why autism is often labelled a ‘hidden disability’.  While the second part of that label is wrong for most people, the first part certainly explains why some autistic people are not diagnosed sooner in life, and I believe it accounts for the illusion of a functionality scale.  In essence, so-called “high-functioning” autistics have very effective masking abilities, while “low-functioning” autistics are simply not capable of or interested in using these behaviours.  As such, terms like “high-masking”, “heavy-masking”, “low-masking” or “light-masking” would make better sense of the spectrum concept.  Also, the spectrum does not run all the way to neurotypical.  Autistic people can be anywhere on the autistic spectrum, but neurotypical people aren’t on it, ever.

Given all of the above factors, I dare some of you may wonder how on Earth autistic people can get into the workforce.  Honestly, it’s not easy, and that’s assuming we’re lucky enough to get qualifications and skills from our education that will even be considered by potential employers, never mind getting an interview and out-doing all other applicants to get offered the post.  This means education is vital to help get your foot in the door anywhere; the better the results you can get and the higher you can go in terms of qualification, the better.  As someone who could never work out what they wanted to be, was never advised how to tackle further education effectively and frankly went to a lousy secondary school where bullying was rife, I’ve often regretted not doing better with my own education.  However, when the deck is stacked against you in terms of working out your future occupation and being left alone to study well for it, there’s not much to be done.

So, the first step is to work out what you can do and want to do before you get to your first chance to choose school subjects in education, then follow one or a few potential paths until the next subject selection opportunity narrows things further.  This may not apply for everyone on the autistic spectrum, as some of us will be too low-masking to engage well with education, never mind employment, and it also depends where you live.  If you’re aiming to be educated near to home as much as possible and you don’t live in or near a large city with a lot of employers in varying fields, your opportunities will be limited.

Another important thing to bear in mind is that living costs are almost constantly increasing with time, and not every job will meet those costs.  This is something my education never covered, and frankly getting promoted enough to get ahead of those increases is extremely difficult as well.  As such, I would advise anyone with an autistic child that’s trying to work out appropriate school subjects to really look at the potential wages of a future job role against cost-of-living expenses.  If they can stand to study long enough in the right subject areas, a lot of autistic young people should be able to qualify for some really good initial job roles in certain areas.  Combine that with some lessons about sound money management, and they’ll be more likely to achieve independence than if they just stumble from education into work at any level with no real idea what to do.

Of course, this leaves the question of knowing what job areas will best fit someone with autism, and that’s never an easy question to answer.  Because autistic people vary so heavily from one another, one autistic’s ideal job might be another’s nightmare, but that being said, there are some common factors to all people with autism that can form the basics of a good framework for picking what kind of work to aim for.  The most obvious is to remember that all job roles are likely to involve some interaction with other people, so you need to consider what that’s likely to mean for each job role and the autistic person aiming to do it.

For example, roles in shops, cafes and on a reception desk all mean dealing with a wide variety of people from the general public, whereas working in an office, a warehouse or a kitchen can shield you from the public a bit.  That said, administrative roles can involve a lot of telephone conversations, so depending on whether you find phones easier or more difficult than face-to-face communication, this may be better or worse than a more in-person role.  If you’re overly honest as an autistic person and struggle to employ tact or to “spin” the truth, you may not want to consider working in areas like car sales or real estate, as these roles need people that can stretch the truth slightly in order to succeed with customers.

Difficulty imparting the truth carefully could also hinder you if you’re looking at something in the medical profession, as it would probably be considered as a “poor bedside manner”, and work in that area also requires a lot of patience, the ability to show empathy well and to not only cope with people at their most vulnerable, but at their most sensory-affecting as well.  I can well imagine that various aspects of physical illness could be overwhelming to sensory hyper-sensitives in the autistic community, as could some of the treatments.  As a hearing hyper-sensitive myself, I think packed wards or waiting rooms would be a major issue for me if I’d ever gone into medicine in any fashion.

A job role connected to someone’s special interests may be advisable, but it depends what the special interest is.  As a fan of superheroes living in an English city that is really more of a town, there’s never been much near to me that plays into my special interest except the occasional retail post, which doesn’t work for me.  Likewise, an autistic person with a special interest in trains might do ok if that interest is more about timetables or trains in general.  However, if their special interest is in steam locomotives, I’d caution against considering a job role at any heritage railways.  Between such railways being mostly volunteer-run and the rising cost of suitable fuel, it’s very unlikely that anyone could make a decent living, especially during colder months of the year when services are either reduced or not running.  As such, special interests might not work as the job itself, but they can be good motivation to get through the steps leading towards qualification and then employment.

Now let’s assume you’ve worked out what job you or your child want to do, depending on whether you’re the autistic child or their parent.  Let’s assume education has then been followed as far as it can be, so now it’s down to getting a job, which is all about applying for jobs, hopefully getting an interview and, if you get said interview, getting hired.  Not really easy, especially for jobs that ask for a CV instead of an application form.  In my experience, CVs can be very limiting, especially for those of us on the autistic spectrum.  The working world is as bad if not worse than education when it comes to accepting people with special needs into it, so autistic people are forced to work harder to convince employers that we’re as capable or more capable than everyone else.

On a CV, you only have so much space to use to tell an employer about yourself, your qualifications, your skills, what it is that makes you worth giving an interview to.  Often a person with autism will need more space to make the case for their consideration as an interview/job candidate, because we’ve not only got to say why we’re deserving, we’ve also got to allay the employer’s concerns about our autism.  Some people might argue that we could just try to apply without mentioning our autism, but this is just asking for trouble down the line as it would potentially delay or prevent the implementation of support in the workplace where needed.

By comparison, employers who provide a facility for an application form to be submitted, one where you can write a lengthy statement, are a much better option.  Going down this route gives autistic job candidates the space necessary to impart all the information they need to.  A good tip with this is to look on the job advert and any accompanying information for the criteria being used for the job role.  A good statement of why you can do the job should answer these criteria, and if you’re not sure about writing a long run of paragraphs addressing the whole lot, break them down into bullet points and answer each in turn.  As a long-time employee at an organisation that favours the application form approach, I can attest that this is a very good way to fill out the appropriate area of the application form asking why you think you can do the job.

When applying for job roles, always be aware of the catch-22 scenario around qualifications and experience.  A lot of employers seem to expect experience before you may have had a chance to get it, and some may ask for qualifications you might not have.  However, a lot will ask for either the qualifications or the experience, so where you might lack one, the other will compensate.  After nearly 20 years of employment myself, I’m now using my experience more when looking at new jobs rather than my qualification, which were what I referenced more in my earlier job roles.

A good way to build up work experience while in further education can be to seek part-time job roles or temporary “summer jobs”, but this isn’t always advisable for people on the autistic spectrum.  During term time, the extra time we get from free periods is best used to study, and we still need a lot of time to destress from using our social skills to interact with teachers, other students and so on.  Also, while some summer jobs and school-based work experience can be useful, not all things available in this line would be relevant to the job roles you might be aiming for as an adult.  You also may not get to perform anything more than some very basic tasks in some areas; the kind of things I did for my own work experience were extremely basic and menial compared to the kind of work I’m able to do now.

Another thing to bear in mind when applying for a job role is how will you get there.  This is less of an issue in some areas of work due to the advent of home-working, and in certain trades you or a colleague would need a work vehicle, but in other areas being able to get from where you live to where you work is key.  This is a potentially very limiting consideration if, like myself, you don’t drive and depend on ever-decreasing bus services for a commute.  It puts you in a situation of being limited further still in terms of where you can work, because if you can’t get to the work location on a regular basis, you’re not likely to keep that job for any decent length of time.

For now, though, let’s assume you’ve found a job that you can get to with a reasonable amount of ease, you’ve applied for it and you’ve been offered an interview.  Key thing to remember with this and with your job application is that you need to tell whoever is hiring for the job as much relevant information about yourself as possible.  The less you tell them, or the more you tell them that isn’t relevant, the less likely you are to get the job.  There is also such a thing as being too honest, especially when it comes to interview questions, and before all of that, you’ve got to make sure you assume an appropriate appearance.

Many people with autism struggle with things like hygiene or wearing certain forms of appropriate clothing.  For some, it’s because we’re hyper-focused on our special interests and don’t recognise how our lapse in appearance and cleanliness affects others, or we do recognise it but it ranks a long way down from our special interests.  For others, there may be sensory issues when it comes to certain fabrics, clothing styles and so on.  However, for job interviews, it’s vital to make sure we’re well presented, and that we maintain some level of good hygiene and work-appropriate attire when in a given role.  This is because how we appear to prospective employees, and later to colleagues and customers, gives them a sense of how professional we can be.  The better we appear to others, the more likely they are to trust us and want to work with us.

Now not every job role will have identical dress standards, but for interviews, basic elements like a suit, shirt and tie, or an appropriate equivalent in women’s attire, are almost a universal constant.  It’s often worth asking about what appropriate work attire will be if you’re entirely new to a given area of work, and in some office-based work, standards of attire can vary from team to team.  As interviews often involve giving you a chance as an applicant to ask questions towards the end, asking about the dress code for the role you’re going for can be a good one to have at hand, especially if you know enough about the role that you’ve not got any questions regarding your duties if you get it.

Next, be sure to prepare by considering what questions you might be asked and get some answers ready.  If you have a parent/carer, relative or family friend with experience of the organisation you’re aiming to work in, or just with going through interviews generally, it can often be a good idea for them to go through the information you have on the job you’re going to be interviewed for.  They can help you work out what the questions might relate to and help you to work out your answers in advance.  A key thing to remember here is not to tell the full, unabashed truth in answering all questions.  For instance, it’s not socially acceptable to say you want a job because you want money, since outside of zero-hour contracts, work experience or unpaid internships, all jobs should involve paying you.  Likewise, anything to the effect of “don’t know” or “my parents are making me” are also unwise, and if a person with autism can’t bring themselves to hold these answers in while saying something else, then they’re probably not ready to enter the work force just yet.

This is where going for jobs linked to the things that you like or that you can do very well will come in useful, as these could be considered as reasons why you’ve gone for a certain job or employer over others.  Learning something about the employer you’re interviewing with can also be useful, especially if you can reword things from their website, etc. into your answers to demonstrate you’ve done research on them.  As I’ve noted before, also have a question or two ready to ask the interview person/panel when they finish asking you questions.  Employers should also provide reasonable adjustments for you to attend an interview or do the job role, so make sure you ask for this in applying and if you get the job, but you shouldn’t need to ask about these during an interview.  A good interview reasonable adjustment is to flag up that you may need them to re-ask questions with different phrasing if you don’t quite understand it to begin with.  If an employer isn’t meeting your reasonable adjustment requests at the interview stage, I’d advise against taking the job to avoid working for an unsupportive employer.

Let’s say you follow the advice above all the way to interview stage and get a job as an autistic employee somewhere.  What’s next?  Well, if you’re already in a job role, you’ll have to give notice at your previous job role and finish up there before you can start a new job.  If you’ve been on unemployment benefits, you’ll have to advise of the change at the job centre where you sign on, but I’d advise waiting until just before you start in order to avoid a massive gap between when the benefits end and your work starts.  If, for example, you start a new job on a Monday, the Friday before is probably the optimum date to let the job centre know.

Bear in mind that different employers have different timescales for when employees are paid, so be sure to ask about when you will be paid in your new job role if you don’t already know, but be careful about when you ask.  A good timing would be at your interview after you’ve asked one or two questions of your own unrelated to pay.  Knowing when to expect your work pay for the first time after your unemployment benefit ends will help you plan your finances better to cover that interim period.

Now all jobs are different, and you can end up with colleagues, team-mates, managers and customers that can be very nice, very nasty or anywhere in between.  There’s no guarantee that the person/people who did your interview will work directly with you, and if they do, their behaviour at the interview might not be how they act day-to-day in the office.  Also bear in mind that jobs are advertised and interviewed for in “broad strokes”, covering things in a very generalised sense and rarely over going into exact details.  If a job role is newly created within a given employer, exact details may not even be something that exist yet, and you may be taking a role in shaping what the job is when you get it.

Given all of this, I can’t tell you with absolute certainty what may be involved in each and every job you could get.  That said, I will impart some advice that is important to learn.  First, gossip is the native language of almost every work environment humanity has ever produced.  There is no workplace in existence where there won’t be at least a few people spending too much time in idle gossip, and at least one person quite happy to throw their colleagues under the proverbial bus if they see anything they consider worth tattling on.  As such, it’s often best to keep your head down, work hard and learn as soon as you can the difference between friendly office banter and potentially harmful gossip.

Second, avoid mixing work and romance.  Colleagues and relations of colleagues are not the best people to get involved with romantically, sexually or both.  It feeds the rumour mill of any workplace, it risks giving people the wrong idea about you, and if the relationship falls apart, it can make your work life very problematic if not impossible.  Even if you move job roles in an attempt to resolve the issue, this can also backfire.  As such, it is generally advisable to leave your work life and your love/sex life separate from each other.

Third, a lot of employers will only step in to enforce their rules if an incident affects their public image.  Internal issues like bullying, especially between two members of the same team where the bully is a position of authority over the victim, are seldom if ever dealt with.  Some of this is because the victim has to report the incident, so there’s no mechanism to ensure a safe means of reporting such issues if the bully is the victim’s manager and the victim is afraid of reprisals.  By comparison, any actions that are likely to reflect badly on the employer because they’ve happened in public or the effect is publicly visible are often dealt with very swiftly and harshly.  This means many employees, especially those of us on the autistic spectrum, can at times find ourselves walking on eggshells in what few jobs we can get, afraid to even breathe out of turn, much less report any workplace issues or incidents that adversely affect us.

Of course, autistics and others in the work place shouldn’t have to deal with some of these things, and more needs to be done to deal with them better.  Firstly, we should be working harder as a society to stamp out discrimination and bullying, and we should be criminalising bullying and increasing education about the various ways people differ from one another.  This would help not just autistics and the wider differently abled community, but also people of colour, women, members of the LGBTQ+ community and more besides, some of whom will also happen to be autistic.  If we were more tolerant of differences and less tolerant of people ill-treating each other over their various differences, we’d have nice education and work environments to work in, not to mention what it would do to improve social media.

More also needs to be done to help ensure autistic applicants not only have an equitable chance at gaining jobs, but also being promoted within the organisations they join.  More employers using job application forms over CVs would aid with this, as would considering less use of interviews and more use of testing models.  Now by test, I’m not saying make everyone sit exams to get jobs, because that is akin to interviews in that it's all about regurgitating answers on cue.  As useful as these tools can be, when you boil them down, a trained parrot could pass an interview if it knew the right words.  When you look for someone to fill a vacancy, you need someone who can do the job well, and outside of acting or politics, not many jobs involving repeating a bunch of canned blather.

So, what do I mean by more testing?  Simply put, I mean what tests set alongside interviews have done for years; set a bunch of tasks to be done within a given time-frame, then see how someone performs them.  If the instructions are suitably literal to ensure both autistics and non-autistics understand them well, this can be a better gauge of an autistic person’s suitability for a given role, because it demonstrates the abilities they would use day-in and day-out.  By comparison, the social skill demands of an interview may be in excess of not only the job role’s requirements, but also an autistic’s ability to handle from a social skills perspective.

It’s also worth bearing in mind that while autistics and other differently abled people are allowed reasonable adjustments, we don’t always get them.  Some employers will have different ideas about what adjustments are “reasonable”, and some will claim that because a given support option would be refused by someone of a higher position to your manager, there’s no point in asking.  As far as I can tell, there isn’t much support to enforce the legislation around reasonable adjustments when these kinds of issues become apparent, and to be fair, it shouldn’t be necessary.

What do I mean by this?  Well, as I’ve noted before, the world is made by those without autism for those without autism, and as a result, autistics are made to jump through extra hoops, tackle additional obstacles that non-autistic people never have to contend with.  The same is true when we look at differently abled people in general, or if we consider things like skin colour, sex, gender identity, sexuality, religion and so on.  Whoever is in power within a society rigs that society in their own favour at the expense of anyone different, and all changes made to bridge the gap actually just disguise it to create a feeling of false equality.  True equality only exists when a society is created to fit all groups within it by default, so for autistic people, a truly equal society would be designed with us in mind from the very beginning.  If that was so, then we wouldn’t need reasonable adjustments at school or work because education and employment would take all facets of autism into account by default.

This is the most vital change that all groups in society need, for those in power who rig society against us to abandon their arrogance and selfishness, and address needs other than their own.  Whether the divide is autistic and non-autistic, black and white, women and men, straight/cis and LGBTQ+, or whatever else you can think of, no one on either side should be making the other side jump through extra hoops.  It should be equally easy, equally possible, for people with the right qualifications to apply for jobs, go to some form of test and be selected without any aspect of the process requiring a “reasonable adjustment.”  In the meantime, if we can’t have this, then we should at least have a facility within all employers that states that no one can refuse a reasonable adjustment just because the people who want it aren’t in a position of authority over the people who need to say yes to it.  If someone needs an adjustment, you make it, end of discussion, and if you don’t like, just remember this; the whole is made by people like you, for people like you, and you’ve had that privilege all your life, so please don’t be selfish when someone less fortunate is asking for a little equality and human decency.

To summarise, getting into employment is not easy when you’re on the autistic spectrum, and neither is retaining a job or gaining promotions once you are employed.  We need to deal with a lot of issues other people don’t, we don’t always get the support we need, and much of what we need stems from the arrogance and selfishness of non-autistic society.  When that society is more humble, more selfless and more willing to treat us as equals, this will be better, but I doubt we’ll see a society like that anytime soon.  So, for now, good luck to my fellow autistics with anything they’re trying to get job-wise, and until my next ramble, ta-ta for now.

[d3mon-ology]

On Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah and Finding Roaches in Your Apartment During a Black-Out:

This is the third time this year I have lost power for multiple days. For all of Metro-Detroit, our energy is serviced by a singular company: DTE Energy. As of August 25th, their stock prices went up by 0.47%. Their yearly revenue is approximately 19 million dollars. This summer, they decided to raise their rates. There is no other choice for us — it is DTE or bust. We were still vocal about the hike in prices, commenting on the proposal’s official posting, You want to raise our bills because you’ve already fixed our infrastructure? Then why did I spend almost a week without power this February? Or something of a similar rhetoric. This summer, some people reported that they began paying 4-digit monthly bills. Personally, my bill jumped from $50 to $170.

For those who do not live in Michigan, please know our summer has been the mildest and weirdest one I’ve experienced. It is August, typically the hottest, most humid time of year, and it has been overcast, wet, and cold, like it is November already. The past two days have brought us terrifying, violent storms where lightning cracked. I thought we’d lose power that first night. Instead, it was the strip of apartments facing ours. I remembered thinking, Finally! This winter, my strip of apartments lost power first and was fixed last. I thought it fair, almost, that they lost power and we got to keep ours. Our neighborhood, clearly zoned for low-income housing and apartments, was always the last to get power back, but instead of paranoia about this resonating me, it was the idea that DTE chose to bless the other apartments. As though a couple hundred dollars in rent per month was the determining factor of who deserved heat in the winter or light in the summer.

So I rejoice our luck — we got to keep our light, our air. Until yesterday morning, when I woke in a sticky sweat to silence and a depthless black. Having always been afraid of the dark, I scrambled for my phone. I tried my lamp, though I knew exactly what had happened. I got up to look out the window at the rain, and I grumbled at the sight of the other strip’s twinkling porch lights. I couldn’t help but resent them, which my neighbor noted later when she lent me her flashlight.

I reported our outage on my DTE app. I tried to go back to bed, but I am in the midst my biannual, irrational fear that mice and cockroaches were infesting my kitchen. Making homes out of my stove or the empty pizza box we left out because we didn’t want to throw it out in the rain. The pitch black only worsened this, so I waited for the sun to rise with my phone’s flash light on and my battery draining. It occurred to me then how soft and plushy I was, how I would not survive long without the accoutrements of my life. Or maybe I would, I thought, and I would have to just get over myself. Become a heroine of my own design.

So my mind wandered in the early morning, looking out for the first sign of light. Eventually, before I fell asleep, I thought of the book assigned for this semester’s course: Americanah by Chimamanda Adichie.

The lives of Ifemelu and Obinze have been eye-opening and a delight to read. Their romance was, in my opinion, a bit spottily rendered, but I didn’t care about their romance. I enjoyed Ifemelu’s portrayal. Adichie avoided a pitfall many Western authors, even the most bra-burning, Bechtel-testing, still fall prey to: the madonna-whore complex. Ife was a woman who was sexual, who had desires beyond men but who saw them as another delight in the wealth of life’s bounty. Following her middle-class Nigerian life and her immigration to America and then return home, I thought Ife so refreshing to read, relatable but also wholly unique in her perspective. She was human, but there was also something a bit invincible about her. It was not that she was able to overcome anything, but rather that she never once wallowed in her weakness. She found something else to sustain her, and I admired that quality. It made her my favorite character, honestly. Reading her story was like reading the life story of a family friend you considered an older, more enlightened aunt who had traveled the world and treated you like a sister.

In particular, she was unfazed by roaches during her first night in Brooklyn, noting that if she had been at home in Lagos she would’ve gotten the broom and killed the fucker without much thought at all. But she didn’t, claiming this American roach as different, as though the weight of a new country had softened that brazen edge to her.

This moment in the book came to me when I finally gave up on sleep. I dressed in the dark, and I decided I was going to drive around. My phone was nearly a corpse, and frankly, I just wanted to sit somewhere and watch my Webkinz iceberg video in peace. I didn’t want to think about mice scratching to escape my pillowcase, roaches emerging from under my sink, or bed bugs, which my coworker recently got and who I, selfishly, worried had given them to me. More so, I was tired of that unhinged feeling that repeated intrusive thoughts instills in me. Like if I did see any of these things, I would be hallucinating, and it would go beyond just idle superstition into a territory where in-patient seems mighty necessary.

So needless to say, I lost it when I walked into my kitchen and saw a cockroach, grasping a small crumb in between his pinchers. He’d just left the pizza box and was ambling across the floor. Much like Ifemelu, I did not kill it. Unlike her, it was not because I felt defeated or so out of place that to interact with my environment felt sinfully wrong. It was because I had never had to. Despite my history of infestations, roaches had never actually crossed from the ephemeral into the real.

Aristotle, who I fucking hate but has a few things of real merit, said that wisdom comes from experience. That’s why it is so valuable in learning virtue. Having lived on my own at 17, half homeless and without any adult supervision, I have grown to see adulthood as a list of first experiences that are necessary but ultimately shift one’s paradigm with each “first.” When I totaled my first car, I learned the wisdom of not leaving your car in the impound lot for five days, of how it is okay to trust scrappers on occasion when they are sweet boys who give you an extra hundred because they recognized struggle and pitied it when they saw it, and of getting back into a car after you realize how fucking stupid you and other drivers are. Dealing with roaches is another one of those “first” experiences, accompanied by a growth spurt, but much like totaling my car, it’s not one I want to learn how to overcome.

So I panicked. I woke up my partner, told him to come quick, annoyed when it took him a minute to clamber up. By the time he followed me into our small kitchen, the roach was gone. This was when I burst into tears, feeling all the weight of the past 48 hours — the sleeplessness, Ifem’s first days submerged in Americanah, the weeks of paranoia that had crescendoed to a singular moment that confirmed all my worst fears. I had felt inspired by Ifemelu’s resilience, balmed by her depression in those first few American months. Adjusting to a new country and being an adult are such disparate experiences that the Venn diagram between them is two circles, but it is a testament to Adichie’s writing that I found connections nonetheless. Learning the nuances of American English follows the same structure of learning a new “first”: you learn by a series of experiences. I calm down, I stop crying, and I think with hope and dread that this is life. After all, Ifemelu has to relearn the nuances of Lagos life after returning to Nigeria. And the same applies to each reoccurrence of a “first.” Life is a series of wisdoms being gained, and I think this is why I admired Ifemelu’s resilience.

So I look at the roach’s mangled body. I hug my partner, tell him we’re getting a closed-top garbage can tomorrow. “Some spray, too,” I add. I put down some diatomaceous earth. I turn off the flash light, and I watch the window. The sun comes up, and I go to sleep.

[iiwiiaiiwymi]

Today I haven’t left the bed at all. I feel so empty. All I do is cry. My brain is glowing. My head hurts so freaking bad. Like it’s about to crack. And my brain melt out like lava. My eyes hurt too. Guess the pressure is bad after the crying. Writing here. Is the only thing I have left. I tried telling my mom about my thoughts. But she wouldn’t listen. Even when I tell her I sometimes feel like I don’t wanna live. All she says is “Yee me too”.

I haven’t felt this in so long. But it’s so familiar in a way. Almost scary.

Today I’ve been thinking of a couple of things.

As usual my standard thought why the world and system is broken and how it’s so unfair and how we are set up to fail. Jadajadajada. Nothing new there.

Secondly is of coarse about you. What you feel right now. Are you worried at all? Will you even notice when I’m gone? Are you trying to move on from me ? Why you treat me so blandly? You say you have no energy for me. But what the fuck does that even mean. You live careless simple life? Now you’re life is simpler and less energy draining than ever before? You use to have a apartment to have to clean and care for ? Food to cook and shop groceries for? Money to budget and save? Dealing with your shit family? Dealing with our relationship? Balancing your time between your friends and family and work? And to try to exercise? All this while working a full time job? And of coarse caring for me and helping me and being there for me and loving me and living with me and everything els with me?

Now.. you live in a house. You don’t have any chores? You barley clean or shop groceries or cook? You don’t have to pay barley anything anymore? And you get a monthly income without having to work a single minute? All you have to do, is going to school? And learn fun stuff and hang out with your new amazing friends? Like wtf are you tired for? You haven’t even settled in your room or fixed a closet for yourself. You haven’t done anything since you moved there? Except drinking, partying and flirting/hooking up guys?? And now you have to study? Like everyone els in school? and you don’t even study anything hard??and I know that you don’t even study as hard as you probably could? It’s fkn highschool level? And you have smart people in your class to help you out?! What’s the big deal wtf? So “I don’t have the energy” is obviously just another bullshit excuse to not having to tell me how you really feel. You are fucking tired of me and want me to go die in a ditch so that you can go on living your new perfect life without me reminding you of your old shit life.. right?

Thirdly, I’ve been thinking about death. Overall. And my own. How will I say my goodbyes. And how I will let everyone know how I feel about them. Should I make a recording ? Or made a voice memo and turn it into a CD? I’ve been writing on a song for you. But I don’t know if it ever will be finished. Should I write a letter? Or who should I send it to? And what would I even say you know? Sorry that I never felt loved or respected enough to get out of bed in the mornings ? That every time I say No not this time. Don’t open yourself up it’s not worth it. You know how it will end! I do it anyways? And every time I get absolutely FUCKED? Every time worse than the one before them? How I never fit inside the system? How I have the brain to solve the human mystery and solve the problems of the earth but it’s impossible because humans are to egocentric and unconscious to the world and people around them? How I can travel outside my body and see the world from another dimension? How I can feel people existing and feeling and thinking from a third party experience from my brain? How I always get left behind when I finally start to feel connected to someone? How everyone I love either leave me or dies? That when I found that lump in my leg I wished that it was cancer? That every time I sit in a car I think of throwing myself out on the highway? That every time I walk down to the ocean I think of drowning myself? How I have been close to killing myself a hand full of times? How I never felt like I had a purpose? I don’t know.

All I know is that. Whatever I choose. I will always regret that I didn’t get to love you for the rest of my life.

Because you are the best thing that ever happed to me. And I’m so proud of you my dear. iiwiiaiiwymi.

And I think my love for you. And the thought of getting better. So that we can be friends again. Is what’s holding me here.

[slippery-minghus]

between having hardly any spoons and being paranoid that i'm broke after nearly overdrawing my account a few weeks ago for the first time in years, i havent really been eating right (or enough) and ugh i'm just so tired of it. i've been living off of pb&js and whatever i can scrape together for dinner. im so tired

[jiminniethemarshmallow]

Thank You For Your Service IV (M)

Thank you @7stars-aligned13 for the beautiful mood board!!  Pairing: Jimin x Reader Genre: smut, angst, fluff Warnings: mentions of trouble conceiving, lots of time skips, squirting, face fucking, dom!Jimin, slight role play, impreg kink, dirty talk, fingering, cream pie Word Count: 24,500

Part 1~ Part 2~ Part 3~ Part 4

You hiccup, already crying fat tears before you’ve even heard the news. You fear those words, feel the emptiness, and it hurts your soul. The straight faced doctor takes her time coming into your room, letting out a sigh once she sees your face. It’s from exasperation, but you would like to interpret it as sympathy. She stands at the foot of your bed, waiting until you calm your breathing enough to hear her.

“As I am sure you have guessed, you are not with child.” Those words break your heart for the sixth time and you break down into sobs, hiding your face in Jimin’s pillows.

Six months. It has been six long months since you were wed and you still are not pregnant. Even after all those late nights, early mornings when you’d send the servants away before your schedules began, the remedies and special foods, the slightly uncomfortable positions and pillow mountains, you still are not yet carrying your husband’s child. And it crushes you.

Yes, you know having children is not all you are good for, but it is one of your duties as a Queen. Having heirs is something that only you can do and the entire kingdom awaits expectantly for the news of an incoming prince or princess that they can idolize and adore, so you feel the pressure at all times of day— as well as guilt in regards to your barren womb. You should be fertile at this youthful time in your life. Both you and Jimin have passed every physical examination and remain in excellent health, which is why it is so perplexing to you that you are having trouble conceiving. Rosé, Queen of the kingdom just north of yours, is already pregnant and she was wed to her husband an entire month after you. Twins, you hear she’s having. You’d hate to fall behind her kingdom in any aspect, even in such a trivial competition as having children. She has nothing to do with your family, and yet, you still feel so inferior because you do not yet have one.

“To put it bluntly,” Your doctor begins, looking down at the paper she’s holding, scribbled with notes. “I believe the cause of your current condition— or lack thereof— is due to the poisoning you endured several months ago. It is possible that the potion affected your reproductive organs in some imperceptible way; your kidneys exhibited symptoms of its effects for nearly a month after your recovery, so we cannot completely rule out this possibility. But, Your Highness, the only way I would be able to test this hypothesis is through surgery to visually inspect your organs.”

You shudder at the thought of being cut open, shaking your head animatedly. Maybe you would consider this “inspection” after a year of effort and failure, but you would not take such drastic measures this early. No matter how much the constant failure hurt.

“If my infertility is due to the poison-“ You swallow thickly when your voice comes out as a mere whimper.

“Let us not be so hasty in calling it infertility, Your Majesty.” She interrupts, stare lightening just slightly. She’s learned the tiniest bit of respect since working under Jimin, his low tolerance for rudeness and spiny disposition during medical examinations slowly beginning to unnerve her cold discourse. Many a time has he reprimanded her for speaking to you informally or for her lack of sympathy, and you are finally starting to see a change, though she still interrupts you to interject.

“If my current inability to conceive is because of the poison,” You try again, “Are there any elixirs or pills I could take to lessen its effects? There must be something!”

“Because we do not know entirely if this is due to the poison, I am hesitant to give you treatment— sometimes getting pregnant is difficult for some people and there is nothing medically wrong with them. For now I can only give you advice on conception: try to lower your stress levels, eat more fruits and vegetables for vitamins, and do not over exert yourself. That is all for today, I will be back in a month for your regular check up unless I am needed sooner.” With that she turns and leaves, not waiting to be dismissed and leaving you alone in your room.

It is the middle of winter and the bone-chilling winds whip against your windows. The palace is heated by fire, but you refuse to light your fireplace, choosing to sit and suffer in the cold alone as you wallow in your gloom. Jimin has been busy all day with kingdom affairs, out and about performing duties that not even your father cared enough to get done. The people love him, love how involved he is and how much he cares, and they never hesitate to alert him to any problems they might have that Jimin could take care of. Of course he doesn’t mind, you knew he would never be able to stay inside these sheltered walls for long when he was so used to the excitement of training and battle, but you wished he would spare a little time to cater to your issues. His absence during your monthly checkups is not unusual. For the first three he held your hand and sat with you, on the fourth he left in the middle due to an urgent matter, and these last two he has been out of the castle altogether. Since your third appointment, when your hopes of being pregnant were at its highest, he seemed to have a very negative attitude toward your checkups. He told you he did not intentionally avoid these meetings, and you think that is partly true, but you know that he must hate the constant rejection and is deliberately making himself unavailable when he thinks you will be rejected again. He would much rather hear the bad news from you instead of your cold doctor.

When you asked your father to accompany you, he sort of grimaced and then politely declined. You understand, the thought of addressing the fact that your daughter has not only been deflowered, but is being repeatedly taken in the efforts of bearing fruit is sickening to you, too. Also, he is not very adept at comforting you when you break down like this, face buried in your husband’s pillows and shoulders shaking with sobs.

Telling by the ache in your skull and the completely soaked through cushion beneath your head, a long time has passed by the time you finally raise your face at the sound of Jimin shuffling into your bedroom. He shivers once the door is closed again, expecting warmth but being met with bitterness.

“It is freezing in here.” He rasps beneath his breath, ignoring you momentarily to light the fireplace, moving to shed the outer layers of his clothing once the fire is of decent size. The single glance he took at you upon entering is all he needed to know what has transpired, and he is in no rush to hear the devastating words. It’s only until he is in comfortable attire that he turns to face you, easing your head onto his chest with a curled bottom lip before he’s even settled properly on the mattress. “My love...”

Your tears flow freely onto his chest and he says nothing, sighing into your hair because by now this has become a common occurrence.

“She said it might be,” You snivel, “because of the poison.��� He closes his eyes, having suspected the same thing but praying that it was not true. He wondered if the poison would have any long lasting effects on you, or on your future offspring, but dismissed the thought immediately. Although he knows nothing of what the doctor has said, he feels discouraged nonetheless. His past failure to protect you continues to circle around his head like a vulture, tormenting him to no end and making its appearance to pick at his wounds whenever he starts to move on from it. Six months feels like a long time, but it is apparent that his emotional scars need far longer to fully heal. And for that he owes to Jinwoo.

“I am s-sorry for being s-so weak.” You wipe your nose, face red and puffy from both tears and embarrassment. “Half a year ago you had not yet seen me shed tears, and now...” Almost as if the word itself had summoned them, fresh droplets fall from your eyes, looking pitifully up at the man who had stolen your heart. Only, he must have given it back to you at some point because you feel too much these days and you are tired of hurting like this. God, you probably look so ugly right now, you can feel how swollen and red your eyes and cheeks are, your self confidence plummeting to an all-time low.

“You are beautiful and strong, (Y/n), do not ever think less of yourself. You have good reason to feel the way you do, please do not think that you have to be stoic in front of me.” Like always, Jimin says exactly the right thing to ease your mind, using his hand to wipe your wet face and burrowing into the sheets with you attached to his side, his heat warming the icy sheets that drowned you when you had been alone.

You retired to bed early last night, which is why you can afford to wake up with the sun this morning. Jimin sleeps soundly behind you, but his presence is felt stiffly on your ass between the thin layers of clothing. Snow twinkles on your windowsill, probably the last snow of the season, but you find the sun beaming as brightly as ever to illuminate the room. With the weather beginning to warm in preparation for spring, you’ve grown accustomed to the gentle sound of melting snow dripping outside your window. Mornings like these are scarce and you plan to make the most of it.

You attempt to turn and face your beloved, but his arms tighten around your waist, locking you in your position. A sleepy groan tickles your ear, the vibrations of his voice sending a shiver through you.

“You’re up early.” Jimin mumbles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. His voice is always so deep and raspy in the mornings, his dialect coming forth with a yawn. You could listen to him speak like that forever, but all you can think about at the moment is how good his moans would sound with the added rumble of bass that comes from sleep.

“So are you.” You snort with a sly wiggle of your hips. The twitch of his length against you sends a flash of exhilaration through your system— time has been short lately and it has been far too long since you’ve last felt him. Apparently he feels the same way, his hand effortlessly gliding up your rib cage to palm at your clothed breast with a deep sigh. You can tell his eyes are still closed due to the laziness of his movements, but it doesn’t matter when his tender touches set your body on fire like this.

His lips find their way to your neck as he shifts closer, kissing and sucking gently enough not to leave marks but to get your heart racing with need. “Take this off.” You follow his instructions and promptly shed the nightgown from your body, leaving you nude against him as he presses himself to you once again, this time slipping a hand between your legs. Your nipples harden from the brief chill of the room before you adjust the covers over your shoulder again, and Jimin takes advantage of this with two fingers, twisting the bud between them to send a spike of pleasure down your spine.

You muffle a groan once his fingers begin to tease at your lower lips, spreading them and toying with the outer skin just to build your anticipation. He wants you to drip before he’s even touched you properly, to whimper into the sheets until you can’t take it anymore and call out his name in frustration. Your clit gets pinched between his fingers when he squeezes them closed, trapping the bud as he continues to rub you up and down, and you find yourself panting in a matter of seconds. Soon, his fingers start to get coated in the essence that seeps from you. It’s so sexy that he can barely stand it. Jimin loves to feel your warm juices trickling out of you, working you up almost feels better than tending to himself, and his breathing hitches too when you begin to wiggle in his grasp.

“Look at my gorgeous Queen, getting soaking wet from just a few light touches. So cock hungry this early in the morning.” His words make you quiver and whine, the teasing quality of his voice right up against the shell of your ear driving you absolutely insane. “I’ll give you what you want if you tell me~” You hadn’t expected him to be so playful after just waking up, but it’s a pleasant surprise.

“I want you to make me cum,” You breathe out between pants. “Then I want you to pump me full of your seed. Please, My King.” Your words have their own special effect on him, evident by the lustful groan he releases into your hair and how his hips subtly shift behind you. Immediately, his fingers move to your clit to lightly graze over the hood until you buck into him, only then does he add pressure. Your back arches into his palm as he continues to play with your nipple, having turned his attention to the other in order to provide the same treatment, pulling and tweaking at it, working the nerves until they’re raw and sensitive enough to have you gasping with every flick.

Jimin doesn’t need to be able to see you in your entirety to know how you look right now. You’re completely helpless to his touch, he can feel you writhing against him and heating up the space between the sheets as your temperature rises. He can feel your heart beating hard against your chest— and he wonders if you can feel his from his position pressed against your back. It has been a while since he’s allowed himself to indulge in these fantasies. He’s pleased to know that he still has every inch of you committed to memory and is able to so easily have you at his fingertips, quite literally. These past months, your focus has been solely on procreating in the bedroom and rarely for the fun of it, so this is refreshing. But he still asks anyway.

“You want me to spill my seed into you, hm? Are you fertile right now?” His words slip past your ears as you lose yourself to the circles he draws into your bud, but somehow you manage to catch them at the last second.

“It does not matter, I want you anyway.” The answer is no, you aren’t at your most fertile at the moment, but this isn’t about that. Regardless of if anything will come of it or not, you want to feel Jimin paint your walls white with his love, something you think you’ve become addicted to. You bask in the feeling of having him throb and twitch and lose control while at the mercy of your tight walls, even when he’s pounding your weak frame into whatever surface he’s decided to take you on, and the thought has you galloping toward your peak faster than expected.

His leg slips between yours to prop them open, two of his fingers dancing their way into your clenching entrance, the intrusion pulling a loud moan from your lips. They glide and twirl within you much to your delight, but before you can enjoy it fully, they pop out and slither back up to your clit with a thick coating of your own slick. It doesn’t bother you, you could cum like this easily, but what really makes you gape is the feeling of Jimin’s hard member grinding against your ass. You can feel that his briefs are now damp with a mixture of precum and your wetness as you continue to drip down your thighs and make a mess of yourself, and you can’t help but rock your hips into his motion. You grind into each other with sensual synchronization and soon he’s panting along with you, the swollen head of his cock peeking out from his briefs to wet your cheek, teasing you endlessly.

“Jimin,” You whine, praying that he’ll let you cum quickly this morning despite his teasing mood. Every buck into his fingers shoots jolts of pleasure through you and every press against his hot cock has you throbbing at your emptiness. It’s a never-ending loop that has both of you moaning in no time, and it isn’t long before the coil in your stomach tightens to its peak. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” You whisper quietly, your breath being stolen away by the feeling of your orgasm. Your husband groans behind you, forcing his own hips to jerk to a stop as you roll against him to ride out the waves. He can feel you pulsing against his fingers and suddenly craves to feel you around his member, removing his hand from between your legs to push away his bottoms.

“Are you ready for me, darling?” He whispers with soft kisses to your shoulder as you begin to relax again. His tip glides effortlessly against your drenched lips and the fire inside you reignites instantly.

“I am always ready for you, my love.” Turning your head, you find his lips and savor the passionate kiss you share, a warmth blooming in your chest that saves you from the cold of the bedroom. Ever so slowly he pushes inside you, bringing a hand up to hold your face to his as his tongue slips between your lips. Vibrations mingle throughout your bodies as you both moan, the insertion tight as he stretches you open in the early morning light, his morning wood always so sensitive especially with your recent bout of abstinence. On the first thrust his fingers intertwine with yours, and this is the most intimate moment you’ve had with him in a long while. It feels like ages have passed since you’ve indulged each other in slow sex and you are starting to realize just how much you’ve craved it. “I missed you.” You mumble against his lips, barely wanting to pull away to look at him.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Jimin smiles, his eyes still closed but hand still caressing your face. He uses it to skim down your figure, hooking under your leg to lift it over his own and allow him deeper into your cavern, angling himself until you squeeze his hand with a shaky moan.

He honestly thinks he could stay like this forever: wrapped up in your warmth, surrounded by blankets, giving you all the love and pleasure he can provide. Things have been so hectic these last few months, an odd tension growing between you two that he can always feel but can’t quite put his finger on, but in these calm moments before the chaos of the day, he feels completely safe and at ease. Being King is no easy task, this he expected, but this is the only time he gets to shed the expectations, the pretenses, the pressure and just be your lover. Just like at the beginning of your relationship— and how things were 8 months ago, when the Crown was first placed in his hands.

You feel almost like a rag doll in his arms as he snaps his hips into you, allowing him to take you and guide you to bliss. Your hips rock back into him subtly, inner muscles squeezing around his shaft and gripping onto him, begging him to stay buried inside to occupy your lonely walls and empty womb. Pressure builds in your lower abdomen again, accompanied by a flush that takes over your body and warms you uncomfortably under the sheets. Jimin tosses the coverings aside when it gets too much, sweat slicking where your bodies connect. Your nails dig into the flesh of his ass when you reach a hand back to rest on the muscle, groaning at how you can feel every movement whenever his hips surge forward, his strength jolting you with his slow, powerful strokes. His length curves perfectly inside you, touching all your favorite spots and it becomes increasingly apparent that you won’t last long like this. He encourages you with gentle sweet nothings tickled against your ear.

“My lovely wife, always so good to me.” Jimin nuzzles his face in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer as his hand returns to your breast. “Always so soft and wet around my cock, darling. Are you getting close again, my love?” You whimper loudly and nod, not trusting your voice entirely when you’re feeling so breathless. “You sound so sweet moaning for me like that. Shall we let the entire castle know what a splendid morning we’re having together? Let them hear how well your King takes care of you.”

“Jimin~” You croon as he picks up pace, hips slapping against your backside and filling the air alongside your heavy breathing. Removing his bottom hand from yours, he props himself up on his elbow to look down over you, opening his legs wider to gain as much leverage as possible to fuck into you. The speed and power he achieves like this has you crying out into the open air, uncaring of who hears how wrecked you sound. You’re certain that the guards keeping watch at your door are uncomfortable by the display of lust, but who are they to judge when Jimin touches just the right places within you to have your body coming apart at the seams?

“Cum for me, my love,” Your husband’s voice feels distant as your thoughts float away. You are not aware enough to marvel at the sheer strength and endurance of his hips, his pace not faltering even once. Crumpling the sheets beneath you, you turn your face into the pillow as your body starts to quiver, a warm hand gripping onto your hip to keep you in place against the onslaught of pleasure. “There you go, milk me of my seed.”

Just the simple thought he plants in your mind’s eye is enough to send you into heaven, your walls clamping down around him with a scream of bliss, just as he requested. Feeling him so deeply makes your eyes roll, every stroke kissing the entrance of your womb and you pray he gives you every last drop he has. With only a few more pushes of his hips, you feel his body tense behind you and shiver, an overwhelmingly sexy groan breathed right into your ear.

It takes several moments of gentle thrusting before he’s satisfied, your body sufficiently full of his sperm and skin tingling with the aftermath of a beautiful orgasm you happily shared. Jimin kisses his way down from the side of your cheeks and neck to your shoulder and arm, ignoring the thin layer of perspiration that dries quickly in the brisk morning air. Though soft, he remains inside of you as he settles himself back against the mattress and holds your body to his, lifting the sheets to cover you before the chill returns. You feel safe. Completely and utterly safe and comfortable in your lover’s arms as you drift back to sleep.

But the peace is short lived because just as you begin to dream again, you feel Jimin pull out of you and shift away, attempting to be as stealthy as possible as he slips from bed. He winces when you turn to your other side to face him, sleepy eyes watching as he pulls on his underwear again. You are unable to return the sweet smile he offers you, already missing the way his skin felt against yours.

“Will you not stay to cuddle me?” You ask quietly, unable to understand why he must leave so soon. The smile on his face turns sad, eyes flickering to the door as several consecutive knocks sing on the wood.

“I have many duties to fulfill today, my love.”

‘And no time for me...’ You think with a poorly concealed frown, burrowing deeper into the bedspread when he opens the door for your servants, who get to work on preparing him for the day immediately. Deep down you know you likely will not interact with him until nightfall as he scrambles around the castle and kingdom serving his duties, but you try not to feel the distasteful irritation in your chest and send him off with a kiss when he makes his exit. Sometimes, though, you cannot help but think he was more eager to be with you when he was merely a soldier.

Jimin sits at a round table meeting with his advisors to discuss the affairs of the kingdom, in which there is not much to report. This is a mandatory meeting they must have weekly and they rarely last long. Most of the time, the conversations divulge into unrelated, off topic subjects just to pass the time, and Jimin has no problem with this on most days. He has a good relationship with his advisors and there is almost never any need for him to use his status as King during their discussions. Today, however, his fuse is a little short. It may be because of the all too frequent restless nights he has been experiencing, or from the lack of quality time he has spent with you, but he is far more irritable than usual. All he can think about is how disappointed you looked when he left and how much he’d rather be cuddled up back in bed with you instead of sitting in front of this counsel.  

“Do not worry, the Queen has already taken care of it.” Someone says, he does not know who said it because he is barely paying attention.

“Pardon my coarseness, Your Highness, but it is my understanding that Her Majesty has not yet conceived.” The man presents this in a questioning manner, but Jimin can hear the underlying condescension.

“You are correct.” He replies in a low voice.

“It has been 9 months since your matrimony. She should bear your heirs with haste.” The room swells with voices as his advisors begin to talk about you, each taking their turn to put in their opinions and criticism. He can hardly believe what he is hearing. They speak as though it is your fault that you are not pregnant, as if you are being defiant by not bearing him children, like it is a choice that you have made consciously. Anger bubbles in his chest, blood boiling as they continue ranting about you right in front of him as though they were not saying terrible things about his wife. He stands abruptly upon hearing someone tell a story about how his wife refused to birth him any more children because he “was acting like one” himself. Jimin interrupts just as the man is about to make a comment about stubborn wives, his voice billowing from his throat like heavy plumes of smoke that quickly engulf the room.

“How dare you speak of my wife— your Queen— in such a disrespectful manner! Do you accuse her of treachery against me? Against this nation? You have the gall to insult her efforts on something she cannot control, to doubt her intentions and loyalty to this kingdom and her own family? I should have you all removed from this castle permanently for suggesting such a thing, what do you have to say about that?!” He looks around the silent room at each of their faces, all of them looking utterly shocked by his outburst. Jimin has never needed to assert his authority over them like this, but they have gone too far today. Though he is the youngest in the room, he is easily the most intimidating when angry, regardless of if he were the King or not. Drawing in a deep breath, he tries to calm himself, running a hand through his hair as he takes his seat once more. “It is my fault anyway, not hers. It is my duty as well.”

It is quiet for a long while, the men around the table hesitate to speak again until one man builds up the courage to break the stillness.

“Do not despair, Your Highness, you are both still young, there is plenty of time to have children.” He reassures, followed by similar comforting phrases from the others. Jimin does not respond as he stares out of the window, a solemn look overtaking his face in place of the relaxed and neutral expression he normally wears. He wonders if you face this criticism regularly wherever you go, if people who are supposed to be your supporters are slowly losing hope in you. You already beat yourself up about not being pregnant, he fears what would happen if those thoughts were validated by others. Something must be done about this immediately.

It is silent for another long pause. “You are all dismissed.” He says with a flick of his hand.

*** *** ***

Your servants follow you around quite stubbornly, attempting (and failing) to be as unnoticeable as possible, but their presence is the only thing you can focus on. If you sigh too heavily they all come scurrying over, asking what was the matter, offering to take care of whatever task you had set out to complete. Yes, it was your mother’s dying wish for you to accept your loyal attendants, and it was your father’s order for them to look after you, but you cannot help but feel that this treatment is a bit excessive. It is almost laughable when you reflect on it: how just a year prior you were known largely for your independence, and now you could hardly find a moment to yourself. The only times you can get away with having minimal supervision is when you go out into town, where you may request only one or two guards or servants to accompany you.

Since becoming the official Queen of this nation, you have taken it upon yourself to care for the nuances of your society, to help individuals and keep a close relationship with the people. Jimin was focused on many of the larger issues that affected groups of citizens, like rebuilding one of the marketplaces that suffered damages in a fire last week, as well as handling international business with neighboring kingdoms. Naturally, everyone took a great liking to him and his policies and the people offered him immense support, but your job as Queen was to support the people. So, every week you go into town and buy a book from a novice writer, read it, then publish an unofficial review for the stories you enjoy. Not only does this boost the writer’s credibility, popularity, and sales, it also allows you to communicate with your people. Your presence in town never goes unnoticed, and often times people give you great recommendations on stories you should interest yourself with. It is the highlight of your week since all you can do is read in the quiet moments within the castle.

It is now early spring, trees budding with sweet smelling blossoms and the beginnings of greenery, displaying their proud potency in brilliant hues that bleach you into the gray of a dead willow. Still, your spirits are beginning to lift the farther you distance yourself from the castle. Walking through town, you breathe in all of the scents around you. Street vendors sell an array of foods that you do not see within the castle often and your mouth waters as you step up to one, picking out a pastry covered in sugar, something that you can easily pull apart with your fingers without the need of utensils. Before you can lift it to your mouth, the guard beside you stops you, plucking a small piece for himself to taste for poison. As a royal, you always thought this job was unnecessary and ridiculous before, but after the catastrophe at your wedding, you now understand it’s significance. That does not stop you from pouting, however, as you are forced to wait at least 5 minutes before the stiff guard allows you to dig into your snack.

You continue through the market, admiring crafts from artisans with masterful handiwork and struggle to keep your hand out of your purse whenever something catches your eye. This market is not the closest to the palace, in fact, it is quite far from it, but you have found that the most valuable work comes from the honest workers that live in smaller homes and lead honest lives, not from the traders and merchants who buy their goods from others and claim them as their own in the wealthy districts. The people who live on the outskirts work harder, and they are the ones you need to support the most.

“This would look beautiful hanging from the palace walls, don’t you think?” You turn toward Lilian as she browses the collection of jewelry that sits beside the tapestry you are holding, her eyes inspecting it briefly.

“I think it would look lovely in one of the sitting rooms.” She grins. Lilian always accompanies you on these types of trips. You value her opinion and reason and sympathize with her lack of outside interaction. Both of you are in the palace at almost all times and you are sure you both would go crazy if not for these couple hours outside those claustrophobic walls.

“I think so, too!” You agree, turning to the guard who continues to survey the area. “What do you think, Kyungsoo?”

He looks at it for a while, then at the others around it, finally bringing his eyes back to yours. “Whatever you desire, Your Majesty. My opinion is insignificant.” His answer causes your face to fall, rolling your eyes at him because he always says that. This is another reason why you bring Lilian along.

Sauntering into your favorite bookstore, you cheerfully greet the clerk and begin browsing for newly released books. Not long after, two women approach you, one of which you recognize to be the bookkeeper’s daughter and a new friend of yours. She always comes to talk to you about the store’s newest additions, and it gives others around her the confidence to speak to you as well. Today she is with a slightly older woman who she introduces as a rising author.

“I believe I have read one of your books before; remind me, which ones have you written?” You prompt, making the woman blush and brighten.

“Snowflower is my most popular work. It is all thanks to your review that I was finally able to get noticed in the writing community!” She beams, sparking conversation with you and Lilian about the book that the two of you enjoyed so much. It must be more than 15 minutes later that you finally decide on what to purchase, you have been listening closely to all that the ladies have to say about each author and the summaries of each story. There were multiple that piqued your interest and you could not decide so you ended up with 3 books in hand as your friend walked you to the register. One of them happens to be a story following the trials and struggles of a mother who becomes pregnant during a war. Of course you hadn’t picked this book for its theme of motherhood. It promised to be a good read— though you had overlooked it many times before today— and you certainly did not choose it because it was the closest thing to a lesson on pregnancy you could get without purchasing the entire series of “Preparing for Parenthood”, perched on a shelf that you found yourself eying the majority of your stay in the store.

Your friend talks mindlessly as she rings you up for your books, inspecting your odd selection. “So tell me, Your Majesty, are you with ch- ow!” The woman beside her pinches her arm just out of your sight, offering up a tight lipped smile when she turns to pout at her. A short flash of realization crosses her face before she returns her attention to you.

“Am I with whom?” You ask, confused.

“Are you with t-the children! Have you- have you come to see the preschoolers perform today?” She covers quickly with a nervous smile. Lilian glares at her when you are facing the other way.

“Oh! I recall hearing that they will be performing a play today, I nearly forgot!” The people around you sigh in relief at your obliviousness, resuming conversation as though nothing had happened. They give you instructions to the school and you rush there, Lilian carrying your books and Kyungsoo leading the way.

When you arrive, there are only parents and family members filling the auditorium, signifying that the play has not yet started. They chat amongst themselves in a rumble of murmurs, but the noise quiets quickly once you are noticed by a teacher that stands near the stage area.

“Her Majesty!” She gasps. “Welcome, welcome!” She practically runs to you, approaching clumsily while Kyungsoo moves to shield you with his body, stopping the woman before she can get too close. You gently move him aside to allow the woman to see and speak directly to you. “I had no idea that the Queen would be visiting today! To what do I owe you the pleasure?”

“I have come to see the children perform. It is imperative of me as Queen to support our kingdom’s youth.” You smile, noticing a weird look that crosses her face for a moment before smoothing out. Lilian has a tight smile spread across her lips just out of your peripheral.

“Of course! Well, you are just in time, the show is about to begin.” She tries to clear the front row of parents for you, but you insist that the parents of the children should get the best seats, settling for the chairs she pulls up for you at the sides of the small theater.

The moment the toddlers waddle onto stage in their costumes, your heart liquifies. They are the cutest things you have ever seen. Some of them look confused, some are pouting, but most of them are excitedly waving at their parents in the crowd, nearly tripping over each other from not looking at what’s happening in front of them. Even more heartwarming is the reactions of the parents, each and every one of them sitting up straighter and beaming with joy at the sight of their offspring, even the parents who had previously looked bored. Your attention is split between what is happening onstage and in the crowd throughout the entire play, watching the silent interactions between child and parent. You could always tell which tot belonged to which parent because of their reactions. Every child had their own lines, and whenever one stepped up to speak, the parents would lean in closer to the stage or straighten up to send a thumbs up to the wide eyes that stare back at them.

At some point, you had begun to imagine what it would be like if your own child were up there. You scan the faces of the toddlers, determining that a shy little girl bears the closest resemblance to your future baby, and you watch her the entire rest of the play. Her finger reaches into her nose several times during the performance, something your toddler would be forced to learn not to do, and she appears to be quite hesitant to say her lines. You and Jimin would act just as her parents are now, waving at her and mouthing words of encouragement when it seems like she will not speak at all, smiling proudly after she executes her parts flawlessly. Jimin would probably hold your hand as you watch her and you would be able to feel the sweat on his palms from how much he would worry for her, whispering to you how he hopes she will not cry because of how shy and quiet she tends to be. And you would whisper back that your baby is talented and will do great because she is very mature for her age, being a Princess and all.

Your eyes do not leave the girl for a minute and you are so caught up in your fantasy that you almost miss when everyone stands to clap at the end of the show. You rise slowly and offer your applause, cheeks hurting from smiling too much, but you cannot ignore the bittersweet feeling in your chest that comes when all of the children disperse and run into the arms of their waiting parents. And you are forced to remember your situation. The teacher begs you to make closing remarks and you take your place on the empty stage to address your people. Unable to focus properly, you barely know what you are saying; you thank the students and teachers for a great show, repeat a total of 4 times how adorable the children were, speak at length about how much you enjoyed everything, and once you notice that you’re rambling, you conclude quickly and move from the spotlight awkwardly. The families don’t seem to notice as they return their attention to gushing over their babies.

Just as you are about to make your exit, someone runs up to you and stops at your feet, her hair barely reaching the bottoms of your knees as she looks up at you. It is the girl you had been watching, and her arms reach up to be held once you make eye contact with her. At the approval of her parents, you lift her light body and rest her on your hip, the position comfortable and natural despite you having held a child only a few times in your life. You congratulate her and she smiles at you, turning to look at her parents as you try not to marvel at how perfectly innocent and sweet her face is.

“Your Majesty,” Her mother greets with a bow. “I was very surprised to see you here today. I had heard that you often come to these parts of town, but I would have never expected you to grace us with your presence on an occasion like this.” She is very polite, noting how the little girl has taken a liking to you already.

“I believe it is important to keep in touch with my people, and what better way is there to connect with you all than to attend a performance of my kingdom’s children?” You grin.

“I heard rumors that lately you had been feeling quite under the weather.” At this you quirk an eyebrow. She continues. “Many had assumed you were pregnant, so word spread that the King would not allow you out of the palace and that is why you had been absent for the past few weeks.” As if Jimin could tell you what to do. Yes, it is true that you had not gone outside of the palace in about 3 weeks, but that was of your own accord.

Jimin’s mother had taken a short vacation to your home upon your request after you detailed to her your troubles with conceiving in a lengthy letter, and she spent those three weeks improving your physical health with things like yoga and kegal exercises, as well as offering you very blunt and personal advice that you were almost too embarrassed to put into practice. Jimin warned you of how she was unafraid to talk about intimate topics, recalling a specific conversation she had with him in his teenage years, but you were still unprepared for the sheer amount of information she gave you during that time. You simply did not have time to go on your weekly shopping trips.

“That is... not the case.” You reply, adjusting the girl on your hip.

“Oh, then you are not pregnant?” The woman seems surprised and Lilian seems almost outraged, cutting in when you open and close your mouth with no other response.

“We have not been to this part of your town yet, are there any places you suggest we visit?” Lilian’s voice sounds through her teeth, swiftly changing the subject. You didn’t think you would have trouble talking about this, but here you stand, blinking away tears at her question. The girl’s mother seems to realize her mistake when she takes in your watery eyes that you try to hide with a fake smile. You let Lilian continue her conversation as you wander away a few steps, pretending to inspect your surroundings as you gather yourself, until a nearby newspaper catches your eye. On the cover are the words “KING’S NEW ORDERS! PROTECT THE QUEEN” and your heart jumps at the suddenness. You bend carefully to turn the page and read the article, a mix of emotions rushing through your body that almost makes you lose grip on the child in your arms when you understand their significance. You quickly return her to her parents, excusing yourself from them on the pretense that you had to be back at the palace for important business, and you instruct Kyungsoo to guide you back to the carriage to head home.

Upon entering your bedroom, Jimin finds a note on the bed in your writing, reading it with curiosity. It leads him to a familiar place and he hurries there with mild concern, mind rushing with thoughts of what your note could have meant.

Curled up in your favorite chair, he finds you reclining with a new book in hand as you look through the window of your Secret Library. Your servants know nothing of this place, you and Jimin have made certain that it’s location remains hidden, so this is the only place you can truly be alone. To his knowledge, you only come here when something is troubling you or when you need to think, and his mind jumps to all of the worst case scenarios of what could have happened.

“My love, you wished to speak with me?” He asks, approaching urgently as according to your urgent letter. But you remain relaxed and unresponsive as you continue to flip through the pages of your novel. He looks down to inspect your choice reading, taking note that it speaks of a woman who, in this current scene, is just learning that she is pregnant. You take your time reading it, only turning to him after the chapter is finished. When you turn to him your eyes are blank and unreadable.

“Why have you placed a censorship on our people, My King?” You ask suddenly, and it takes him aback.

“A c-censorship?” He stutters out.

“Yes, you recently placed a censorship on the people of this kingdom, have you not?” You look him in the eyes and find that he can barely hold eye contact, his entire body tense. It is difficult for him to respond, especially since you were not supposed to know about this, at least not this soon.

“It is not a censorship.” He evades.

“Really? So you have not ordered our people to be silent about anything pertaining to pregnancy and children around me?” He fidgets under your piercing tongue, unsure of how to respond. “That sounds quite close to censorship to me.”

“It is only to protect you, My Queen,” He relents, stepping closer to you as you snap your book closed. “People can be very insensitive and I did not want you to be hurt by their words.”

“Hurt by their words? What words would they have said to me? I am not a child, Jimin, you need not protect me from words!” Your volume rises along with the redness of your face. “Are the people criticizing me in some way? What have they said? What have you heard to make you so wary of words?”

“Their words hurt me, (Y/n).” He says quietly as he lowers himself to his knees and takes hold of your hands when he sees the worry in your eyes. “What I heard hurt me, and I could not bear the thought that you may hear such things too. I did not do this because I think you are not strong enough to endure it, I did it because you do not deserve to hear such negativity.”

“Even so, how dare you make such a rash decision without consulting me.” You remove your hands from his and he does not reach for them again. “You saw me directly after your council meeting last week and mentioned not a word of this to me. If you had asked, I would have told you that none of this is necessary, that I can handle whatever my people have to say about me because I am the Queen!” Your voice cracks annoyingly as you fight back hot tears. “I should be able to answer them when they ask me questions. And maybe I should hear what they say about me. Because they are correct, I am not pregnant and I do not know if I can ever become pregnant and maybe they should be worried. My sensitivity should not warrant their silence.”

“You are not sensitive, my love, you have every right to feel the way that you do.” You ignore him.

“But what troubles me the most is how you so easily excluded me. You acted without my consent and planned to keep this from me indefinitely— you even made sure Lilian was the first to know so that she could keep watch over me today! What happened to our communication, Jimin? We should be able to talk to each other about anything and everything, but instead you felt the need to keep something so important a secret from me. You could have simply talked to me and told me how you feel. It feels as though we have not spoken in days, it is almost like you aren’t trying anymore. It feels like you have given up.”

The fire in your tone dies down until all that is left is pain, and Jimin realizes that it is he who has hurt you the most.

Lilian told him about where you went today and how you acted. She told him of the lost and pained look in your eyes as you watched the children, even though you were smiling. Most importantly, she relayed your exact reaction when that woman asked if you were pregnant. It was just as he had feared. Putting these pieces of information together with the book you had been reading, Jimin knows that this argument is about more than what you’d like him to believe.

“This is no longer about the censorship, is it?” He asks cautiously, guilt leaking onto his features. You appear shocked at first, not having realized your own subliminal shift from the topic, but then your face twists with emotion and you bite your lip and turn your head from him in an effort to hold yourself together. You are tired of crying in front of him.

“You-“ Sniffling, you try to control the shakiness of your voice. “You do not talk to me anymore. I never know how you are feeling these days because you have been avoiding me.”

“I do not try to avoid you, my love.” He frowns, moving his hand to rest on your knee.

“It feels like you are. You do not come to my health examinations anymore, you can never seem to make time for them.” He opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t let him. “I am always forced to go through them alone and I sit there the entire time wishing that you were there to hold me or reassure me, but I’m always alone. And it may be easier for you to hear the bad news from my mouth, but it hurts me more every time I am forced to tell you that I have failed once again. And we haven’t tried in a long while, I am beginning to fear that you no longer want to touch me.” Your eyes convey a deeper pain than your words can communicate, and the earnestness in them when you look at him breaks his heart. He didn’t mean to make you feel this way, it‘s the last thing he would want.

“I still very much want you, My Queen, I always will. I have been hesitant to initiate anything with you as of late because you seemed so disheartened and dejected and I did not want to further upset you with inappropriate timing. I have also been struggling to keep my optimism, forgive me for my misjudgment.”

“That is another problem,” You sigh, knitting your eyebrows. “I have no idea what you are thinking or feeling. You always comfort me and tell me that I can be open with my emotions with you, yet you do not listen to your own advice and tend to lock up around me. It will not lessen my sadness, but to know that you are just as affected by this as I am and that I am not overreacting would give me the tiniest bit of comfort. But when you force yourself to appear unaffected, it feels as though I am the only one who cares.”

“But I am the King,” Jimin starts, conflicted. “I cannot afford to show weakness or lament in our misfortunes. I must be strong for the people.”

“Strength is not the only trait of value!” You hiss, irritated that he has this perception that is so inaccurate. “Emotion does not always entail vulnerability and the people will see that. They adore how much you care about them, how you grieve with them when you learn of their losses, so why would it be inappropriate for you to care about me? Do not forget that you are also my husband. That is what you signed up for on our wedding day; you married me and the kingdom followed. Why is it that I am never your priority?!”

Sadness transforming into boiling rage, you stand and push past him toward the exit. This is your first real argument with him and it seems that everything that has been bothering you for the past few months is now exploding out of your mouth. You did not mean for your words to be so harsh, yet you could not control them and figured that you should let everything out while you had the chance. Much of your frustration is about your own incompetence, but you redirect it toward him because you cannot handle anymore mental self-abuse. A tiny part of you wants him to yell back at you and affirm everything you already thought about the direction of your relationship just so you could be right about something for once. Most of you, however, wants him to run after you, take you into his arms, look you in the eye and dispel all of your worries by pouring out his heart to you.

And that is exactly what he does.

“My love, do not run away.” He says gently, grabbing your hand before you can even make it 3 steps past him. He moves to the front of you, taking your face in his palms so he can stare into your eyes, hoping they can fill in the blanks between his words. “You are always my priority and you always will be. I-“ He sighs, looking away for a second before returning to you. “I do not always make the best choices, and for that I apologize. Being your husband and a King is far different than being a military general, and it is taking longer to adjust than I anticipated. I love you so much, to the point where I am afraid of making mistakes and losing your heart somehow, so I try too hard to be perfect. I take care of your kingdom because it was yours before it was mine and I know how dearly you hold it’s people. I try to be as tough as possible for you because I thought you would expect it of me when you were feeling weak.” His hands fall to your shoulders. “As a General, I learned that the only way to gain respect and love was to work hard and solve all issues, but it appears that I will need a different mindset in this situation. Because it seems I have become too consumed with work and too busy to show my love for you, and I know I will need to change that if I want to be a good father to our children.”

“You do not need to change at all, Jimin. Who you are trying so hard to be is not the same man you were when I met you. Yes, you were strong in front of others, but you never closed yourself to me. I do not want you to change or pretend to be tough, I want you to be you, because that is who I married.” This causes him to think back to how he has behaved in recent months. Maybe he was avoiding your appointments purposely so he wouldn’t have the chance to break down in front of the doctor or Lilian. And maybe he had been ignoring you so he wouldn’t have to face his own pain that you reflected. He’s been treating you unfairly in an effort to play a role that doesn’t exist, and he welcomes the guilt that slaps him in the face at the realization. He hates that he ended up like this even after all that you went through in the aftermath of your wedding. It is like he had forgotten all that he promised you.

“I apologize for everything, My Queen. I will remove the censorship immediately.” His head bows with heaviness. “I do still want a family with you, but maybe we should take a break from trying, just for a little while. Maybe this building friction between us and the stress it caused has been affecting our fertility. Maybe we are trying too hard and should take your advice to just be ourselves. A baby should be made from love, not by expectation. I do not want-“ He thinks about his next sentence carefully. “I want to improve our relationship first, before our attention is shifted to other matters. We are young and have not yet been married a year, my love, we will have plenty of time to conceive. Let me make up for the neglect you have suffered these past months. Let us take it one day at a time.”

He’s right, your relationship has been strained, and it is not only from the fact that you are not pregnant. The discord between you two has taken a toll on your body: you are constantly exhausted, your head pounds with headaches most days, and the loneliness has changed your positive attitude into one of sulking and disdain. It has changed you. So how could you think of bringing a child into this world when you are at this level of dysfunction? Things needed to be resolved first, and here he is, willing to work everything out with you after accepting his faults. You couldn’t possibly reject him.

It’s been nearly a month since your argument, and things have taken a turn for the better. You helped Jimin realize something he didn’t quite understand before: that as King, anything he says goes, so he has been taking frequent days off to spend time with you. He’s taken you on many dates around the kingdom, showing you his favorite places to go when he was a child, exploring different towns you hadn’t gotten a chance to see yet, he even accompanied you on your shopping day to meet some of the friends you’d made. Being able to spend time with him like this reminds you of what it felt like in the beginning of your relationship. The novelty of seeing him and the excitement you’d feel in the pit of your stomach. Except this excitement is now from your curiosity of what activities you’ll do with him that day and not from the thrill of possibly being caught together by servants.

You’ve kept things fairly innocent these past few weeks, focusing on rebuilding your emotional connection instead of being physical. You’d lost a lot of weight during the months you were at odds with Jimin, but you’re happy to say that you’re gaining it back now that you’re paying more attention to your health and happiness and not the crazy diets and detoxes that people recommended to you to help with conception. What’s more, you’ve been keeping busy by accompanying Jimin on his political duties instead of remaining put away in the palace. He didn’t want to involve you in political affairs to keep your stress levels low, but you remind him that you’ve been involved in things like that since you where a young princess, so this is the norm. So now you happily travel with him out of the kingdom to attend meetings with neighboring rulers and assure them of your health.

This is the first trip you’ve taken, and it feels absolutely liberating. Seokjin insisted that you and your husband stay in his family’s vacation home located in the area— one of many acquired throughout his travels as a collector and salesman— and it is arguably nicer than the one offered by the royals of this kingdom. Perhaps not as luxurious (though very close to it) but certainly more private. You’d take any opportunity to escape any hovering servants. Your eyes sparkle as you walk through the doors, taking in the modern furniture, high ceilings, and breathtaking view of the green valley and hills surrounding you. The altitude is quite a bit higher than you’re used to, the kingdom poised along a mountainside and sourcing its water from the river that flows through the valley below.

You blame this altitude for the sick feeling in your stomach and the lightness of your head, trying your hardest to keep your etiquette and not plop face first onto the huge mattress. You sit gingerly on the edge, aided by Jimin, who kept hold of your arm ever since he saw you swaying when you stepped out of the carriage. He fusses over you, letting out a disgruntled grumble when you remind him that you saw the doctor before your departure and she found no troubling conditions within you— not even pregnancy, which you were disappointed to hear, but not surprised. The symptoms come and go and you assure him that all you need is some rest and you’ll be back on your feet, and he leaves you under the watch of Lilian and Kyungsoo (who accompany you everywhere) while he travels to the castle to greet the King and assure him of your safe arrival. You nap while he’s away and awake just in time for dinner, feeling refreshed and symptom free, much to his relief.

Being away from the palace and kingdom is sure to do wonders for your physical and mental health. Just being here with the people you love is a breath of fresh air, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face. Seated at the table accompanied by Jimin, Lilian, and Kyungsoo, you feel this is the closest thing you’ll have to a family dinner for a long while. As your servant, Lilian never eats with you at the same time, let alone at the same table, but you begged her to join you and fill the evening air with casual chatter. Kyungsoo is your favorite guard and you’ve always wanted to get to know him, but he remains relatively quiet throughout the meal and never lets his guard down, taking the farthest seat from his monarchs to silently observe. Typical. With your energy levels still quite low, Jimin and Lilian do their best to raise your spirits by showing off their goofy sides, telling stories and making you laugh almost nonstop. But just seeing them bond so well is enough to make your heart swell. You wonder if Jimin will have this type of relationship with your children, one where they can joke freely and build trust with each other without being hindered by the forced power dynamic. You hope their relationship will be better than the somewhat estranged one you have with your father.

“Are you comfortable, my love?” Jimin asks as you settle in for bed. This mattress seems to be made from the clouds of the heavens, you’ve never felt relaxation like this. You’ll have to purchase one for your own bedroom.

“Yes, My King.” You return, grinning at the way his cheeks lift. He climbs in behind you after blowing out the lanterns, the scent of smoke wafting gently through the room.

“How are you feeling? Better?” He sounds tired and you have no desire to keep him awake with your troubles, so you nod.

“Yes, after my nap and dinner, I feel just fine.” You don’t mention your growing headache because you’re certain a good night’s sleep will resolve it. You’re feeling uncharacteristically tired, exhausted even, and it’s most likely from the long journey here. Hopefully, you’ll wake up refreshed and energized in the morning.

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything tonight.” He whispers, already starting to drift off.

“I won’t trouble you.” You assure him, sinking into slumber.

“Are you sure you are well enough to go out today?” Lilian sifts through your clothing, trying to decide what to dress you in for today’s events, accounting for the warm mid-spring weather. She is alone in the bedroom with you, Jimin having stepped out to give you privacy while getting ready.

“Yes, I am feeling much better.” This isn’t a lie. Although you felt extremely sluggish upon first waking up, you now feel great. Jimin had asked you about a thousand questions before leaving bed this morning and at breakfast, and you dispelled each one of his worries with confidence.

“I am glad to hear that, but please do pay attention to your condition, Your Highness.” She says this as she holds up a pristine gown for your approval, handing it to you when you nod both at her words and fashion choice.

She doesn’t need to vocalize what’s on her mind, you know what she’s thinking, and frankly, you’ve been having the same thoughts. But your doctor was very clear that you are not pregnant when you saw her before the trip. Also, you bleed 2 weeks ago, and though it was short-lived, it was accompanied by cramps and headaches, dutifully reminding you of your empty womb. So you ignore Lilian’s concerns and move about your day like normal, smothering the tiny bud of hope that tries to bloom in your chest.

“Are you excited for today’s meeting?” Moving away from the topic, she smiles at you through the mirror at the way your face lights up, beginning her work on your hair.

“This is the most excited I have felt in a long while! It will be my first diplomatic duty as Queen.” Finally, you feel useful.

“Would you like me to accompany you?” What she means is ‘would you like me to keep an eye on you to make sure you are feeling okay/ nothing bad happens’ but you pretend not to notice.

“No, Lilian, I want you to treat this as a vacation of sorts. You work so hard my humble, loyal friend. Go and explore the towns, have fun while we’re away from the kingdom.”

“I do not want a vacation, I want to make sure you are alright.” She responds quietly, blushing. You hum.

“Respectfully, I do not need to be looked after like a child.” You chuckle. “I can do well on my own. Besides, Jimin and Kyungsoo will be there if anything happens.”

“Then I will take my leave tomorrow after I make sure you are alright today.” She says stubbornly, not meeting your eyes in the mirror. “I cannot relax in good conscience without being assured of your safety.” Nodding, you accept her terms with a smirk.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Queen (Y/n).” King Jackson smiles at you, bowing his head in greeting. You grin widely as you sit across from him and his wife at the large conference table, Jimin placed closely at your side.

“You as well, Jackson.” Last you saw him, he was a prince. In fact, he submitted the first marriage proposal you’d ever received, asking your father for your hand in marriage as soon as he heard you were of age. He is a little less than 4 years older than you, handsome, bubbly personality, likable and charming on all fronts, and you had no qualms with marrying him, but you also had no desire to leave your kingdom to rule another. As King, he would have you move into his castle and be at his service where you would likely not hold any power or say in most matters involving the people, something that deeply displeased you, so you turned him down. Now he has a wife and several small children, as well as the throne and an entire kingdom to lead. And as of your coronation, he is your kingdom’s closest ally.

“No need to be so formal, Queen.” He jokes, immediately setting a relaxed atmosphere. You are meeting to discuss and update the terms of a treaty between your allied nations, one that your fathers had written and agreed upon many years ago, but legally needs to be reviewed thanks to the recent shift in power. Your father is quite close with Jackson’s own, therefore you have a good relationship with the young King from years of getting acquainted during your childhood. Jimin, however, has no such history with the man and seems rather tense around the lighthearted playful. “I was disappointed when you refused by marriage proposal, but it seems that you have chosen a handsome and competent spouse in my place, just as I have.” He grins, winking at his wife, Lena.

“It was never ‘your place’, do not be so big headed,” You roll your eyes but he ignores your quip, eyes trained on Jimin.

“We spoke yesterday evening, but I am intrigued to get to know more of you, King Park. May I call you Jimin?” Jackson barely waits for a reply before continuing. “I must know more of the man whom I am to be allied with, and the man who married the ever-so-independent princess.”

“I must admit, I am curious about you, too. But if my beloved trusts and acknowledges you, then I will do the same.” Reaching under the table, Jimin’s hand finds yours and you smirk, pleased that he won’t let the other King intimidate him.

“Regarding the treaty;” Jackson pulls out a long document, skimming over the lengthy script that you are both irritatingly familiar with. “Will our kingdom’s continue to remain allied during times of war, help financially and provide resources in times of natural disaster, respect the borders set by each nation without the intention of gaining territory, and continue to keep trade borders open?” He reads off the major points of the list, you and Jimin answering with a ‘yes’ to each. “Is there anything else you would like to add?”

“Not that I can think of.” You respond, Jimin saying the same. Feeling satisfied by your responses, Jackson signs his name under the print of your fathers, passing the document to you for your signature. But you slide the paper to your husband, whose name appears in ink now instead of yours. Surprised by this, you can see the unfiltered comment bubbling out from the brazen King’s dome.

“I would not have expected, (Y/n), that you would submit the powers of your status to a man.” It is obvious that he has already assumed that your action means that you no longer hold the highest authority in your own land, but you are both quick to correct him.

“You are mistaken.” Your voices harmonize into one as you say this, Jimin continuing on to explain. “My Queen has not yielded even an inch of power to me. As I am sure you know, she is fully capable of handling affairs such as these, any responsibility she has shifted to me has been due to her own discretion.” Though his tongue is quick, Jimin is sure to keep a light, non-malicious tone so as not to offend your friend. You’d much rather focus on internal public affairs, leaving international and business related issues to your husband. But it seems others have the wrong idea about you.

The man across from you blinks at this, raising his eyebrows, and you know Jimin has just gained a large amount of respect in his eyes. You find it quite flattering to see him so defensive of you and you give an approving squeeze of his hand.

“As expected,” Jackson hums with a grin, receiving the document as Jimin passes it back to him. “Well, it seems that our business here is complete! Shall we have champagne to celebrate this swift agreement?” He doesn’t realize his error until his wife nudges him in the ribs and he looks up to see your faces pulled into wide-eyed frowns. “Ah, yes— my apologies,” He scratches his neck bashfully. “Then, may I interest you in some exercise?” Eyes boring straight into Jimin’s, he asks this as the men share a look.

“Oh, this is so exciting!” Lena beams, nearly bouncing in her seat as you both observe from a bench on the side of the field. Somehow you hadn’t expected this when Jackson offered his proposal. Your husbands are standing in a marked area with protective gear covering their bodies and gleaming swords, preparing for a sparring match in the warm weather. The sun beats down on you as you squint at them, using your hand to shade your eyes before Lilian appears with a parasol to place over your head. “Have you ever seen your husband fight before?” She asks, staring at your side profile.

“Never.” You respond. “This should be interesting.” Admittedly, you tend to shy away from violence, resenting the thought of people battling each other for bloody glory. Though you are in charge of the military, you never ask for too many details, and skillfully avoid any training grounds near the castle. It may be ironic, then, that you married a General who has seen more battles than he’s cared to mention and carries more scars than he’d care to explain. But you must admit that you’re intrigued by the spectacle he’s sure to put on for you, comforted by the fact that this is completely safe.

“Jackson has been training sword for most of his life, but has never seen an actual battle. I wonder how their skills will compare.” Lena states proudly, sipping from the drink one of her servants comes to offer, dismissed when you decline.

“I hear that you were a General, King Park.” Jackson checks the cap at the tip of his sword, nodding to the instructor that stands at his side.

“I’d like to think that I still am one.” Jimin responds as he stretches out his stiff muscles.

“Even after being promoted to Commander in Chief?”

“I’ve done nothing to earn that title but get married.” The man before him hums.

“I assume you are quite skilled with a sword then, have you practiced fencing before?”

“Of course, it is taught as the basics of sword fighting. Though, I would not say I am a master.” Humbly, your husband lowers his head to inspect his blade, shaking his head at Jackson’s outcry.

“Nonsense! Any man who has done battle for his life is surely a master. Though, I do ask that you do not hold back on me here; I certainly will not do the same for you.” A wolfish grin creeps up onto both Kings faces, mirroring each other as they pull down the hoods of their face guards.

“You’ve said nothing of your own skill thus far, I will not make the mistake of underestimating you.” The match starts swiftly after they take position, Jackson lunging forward and barely missing Jimin’s side as he dodges out of the way.

Your mouth falls open as they move, each motion calculated and precise. You know nothing about fencing, but it is clear that they are both highly skilled. You’ve never seen your lover move this way before, so dynamic and captivating as though he were performing a dance. Powerful and graceful in every step taken toward his opponent, wielding his blade as though it were an extension of himself. He is beautiful to watch, your heartbeat speeding up in your chest as you are enraptured by the display. Both King’s are even in size and capability, but you can see the ease of movement Jimin possesses compared to Jackson’s deliberate strokes, almost as if he were teasing him. Lena cheers from beside you, but you can’t make a sound. Seeing him like this— completely in his element and moving so gracefully— has your body heating for another reason unrelated to the unrelenting sun. You’ve married an amazing man.

“You’re quick.”

“That is a great compliment, coming from you,” Jackson grunts, keeping Jimin on the defensive with his bold attacks. “But I can tell you are merely playing with me.”

“Not playing.” Waiting. One thing Jimin is an expert at is waiting. Patience is his strength, in fighting and in his daily life. He was patient when it came to you, taking his time with each step of your relationship until he was entirely sure that you were ready, that you wanted him. He was patient with each of his military promotions, climbing up the ranks with hard work and diligence until he was recognized. And he will continue to be patient with the next stage of his life, trying his best not to lose hope that you will become pregnant one day, so he will deal with the disappointment and trials with you for as long as it takes.

As soon as Jackson falters he takes his shot, attacking with swift consecutive swings until his opponent is pushed far back on his side of the space and leaves an opening, one decisive lunge ending the match. They both pant as Jimin’s sword makes contact with the center of the other King’s chest, the cap pressed into the padding protecting his flesh. There’s silence for a beat before they both drop their guard, retuning to the start position. Jimin turns his head to make sure you were watching, lifting his mask to wink at you and smirking salaciously when you blush.  

“Well done.” Jackson nods. “But I won’t let you get the better of me next time!”

“Your husband is a bit intense, no?” You ask Lena as she giggles, humming in agreement.

“And it seems your husband is a bit competitive.” You also nod, the heat drying your mouth as you watch her sip her drink again. She calls over her servant when she catches your stare and they hand you a glass— Kyungsoo swooping in annoyingly to try it first before you can taste the sweet liquid. “He seems very fit and possesses a beautiful physique, I’m astounded that you have the willpower to leave bed with a man like that, especially as newlyweds.”

You choke on your drink mid-swallow, nearly spitting it out because of her words. Jackson has a notoriously dirty mind, it is no surprise to you that his wife shares that quality— she’d have to, in order to tolerate him. She laughs as Lilian takes the drink from you as you wipe your mouth, turning the comment back on her.

“I could say the same to you, Jackson is just as built.”

“Oh, trust that he kept me in bed for months after our wedding date. It is no coincidence that I have this many children now.” Her eyes shift back to the men on the field, seemingly satisfied with the rosiness of your cheeks. Recovering, you address her once more.

“Speaking of, may I meet them?”

“I’ve known (Y/n) for most of my life,” Jackson speaks up during their final round. “Though I submitted a proposal, she’s grown to be like a sister to me over the years.”

“Is that so?” Jimin grunts, their swords clashing loudly.

“I was skeptical of what kind of man she had chosen when word spread of your betrothal. Wondered if you would be able to protect her as she tends to venture out and do things on her own; sometimes-” He jumps back as Jimin closes in. “-befriending the wrong people. I worried when I heard of the catastrophe at your wedding ceremony.” The cap of Jimin’s sword touches to his opponent’s chest once again, ending the sparring match. They both remove their helmets and masks, breathing heavily as they look at each other. “I truly empathize with what you were forced to experience. I could not imagine being in that situation with my wife.” Both men turn to look at you and Lena, their 4 children surrounding you as you hold the youngest in your lap. It is a sight that simultaneously melts and breaks your husband’s heart. “Nonetheless, after meeting you, I am confident that she is in good hands. I like you a lot, Jimin, and though my approval may mean nothing, I think you are an excellent match for her.”

You look up to see them shaking hands, both of them walking over to you with content looks on their faces. The child in your lap looks up as his father approaches, making grabby hands at your friend until he reaches down and lifts him from you. You watch with starry eyes as Jackson props the child up on his hip, kissing over his chubby cheeks and forehead, but then your attention is pulled away when Jimin stops to stand in front of you.

“Did you win?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, My Queen,” He bows dutifully, running a hand through his sweaty hair. It should be offensive how sexy he looks right now, standing in the sun with his wet hair, skin shining with hard work and eyes landing lazily on your figure with a lazy smirk. Your heart jumps and you have to look away before your mind slips even further away. “Do I get a victory kiss?” He bends down toward you, puckering his lips, and you push lightly at his chest with a laugh.

“But you’re all sweaty!” Your nose wrinkles at him but your eyes still lock onto his lips, even as you continue to swat at him.

“No kiss for your King?” Jackson quips, turning to his own wife who is already shaking her head in disgust. “Lena~ Don’t I get a reassurance kiss after my defeat?” The same look Jimin has on his face is contagious to the other King, who grins at Lena as she shields her face with another one of their giggling children, peeking out from over her shoulder. Both men approach with puckered lips, causing their Queens to squeal at their playfulness— you even hop up from the bench to avoid him, taunting him as Jimin chases you around the field. It’s rather immature, but you feel no need to pretend here or uphold appearances in front of your hosts. Lilian and Kyungsoo look on fondly, never having seen you so carefree.

“You never minded my sweat before, my love.” Jimin whispers to you when you finally allow him to give you a peck on the lips, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. You don’t respond, rolling your eyes at him with a barely hidden smile.

“You seem to be getting along nicely with Jackson.” You comment as you rummage through your luggage, searching for one specific item. Jimin replies from behind the partition of the bathroom, bathing away the grime of the day in preparation for the night. You had both sent Lilian away when she offered to help and she took off to explore the nighttime activities of the kingdom, one of Jackson’s male servants offering to be her guide. You’ll be sure to ask her for details in the morning.

“Yes, he is quite an interesting character. He gave me his official approval to marry you, which I suppose I am grateful for.” Hearing the smile in his voice, you giggle, silencing the gasp that leaves your chest when you pull out the delicate lace garments, your heart rate speeding up. You aren’t sure why you feel so anxious about this. It’s not like you to get nervous about being intimate with Jimin, but you’ve never done anything like this before. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since you last had him, the recent abstinence keeping your body on edge. Or maybe you are worried about what he will say when he sees you. Embarrassment colors your face as you quickly slip on the set, covering yourself with a robe when you are finished.

“He gave you his blessing to marry me?” You chuckle.

Stepping onto the tile of the partitioned washroom, you stand before the full length mirror to inspect yourself before tying it closed. The robe covers you from Jimin’s viewpoint behind you as he finishes washing up, and you try to appear productive as you move to moisturize yourself. When he is finished, your husband approaches from behind, a towel hung low on his waist as he comes to wrap his arms around your midsection. You can feel his sturdy body pressing into you as he pulls you closer, his eyes staring into yours through the glass when he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“His ego hasn’t shrunk an inch since I last saw him.” You sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut as the two of you sway gently together.

“Well, he is a King.” Jimin reasons in a whisper.

“But so are you.” His arms loosen around you when he feels you start to turn, both of your eyes open now as you peer up at him with glittering eyes, gingerly locking your fingers behind his neck. Your heart kicks up as you watch the easy grin on his lips, the absolute and unwavering adoration he holds for you so evident in his gaze. It reminds you of earlier times, his expression the exact same as when he first confessed that he was in love with you and you reciprocated, kissing him so certainly. Now, you kiss him with practiced ease and press ever closer into his warm body. Jimin’s tongue dances with yours, both of you getting lost in the moment until you are forced to pull away for air. “You were amazing today, General Park.”

The use of his former title makes his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It isn’t like he doesn’t like the name, it is simply that he never expected to hear it come from you again.

“I did not realize that you were so agile and powerful, I was very impressed with what I saw.” One of your fingers trails down his chest, playing in the dip of his v-line before coyly tracing back upwards with each slow word you speak. “That is not to say that I was unaware of your capabilities, you have found great success in protecting me and my kingdom, but watching you was eye opening... and quite arousing.” His breath hitches in a way that gives you more confidence, courage swelling in your chest that helps you ignore the redness of your cheeks.

“Is that so?” Jimin swallows, curiosity lighting his gaze.

You hum in affirmation. “You must work extremely hard to become that skilled, so I thought it appropriate to give you a gift to show my appreciation for all that you do.” Taking a step back, you play with the ribbon of your robe, amused by the sudden change in Jimin’s expression. He watches you like a predator stalking it’s pray, detailing every movement of your nimble fingers with a heaving chest as you move at a snail’s pace to untie your robe. You decide to tease further once the ribbon is finally untied, only revealing the tops of your shoulders from the silk, holding yourself in modesty until it looks like he’s going to go insane before you open the from to reveal yourself.

Jimin feels like he could faint from what he sees when the robe drops. You are decorated in a lacy white lingerie set that is quite transparent, your nipples visible through the designs of the fabric. The bra of the set extends downwards under your cleavage and he feels his hands lifting to rest on your ribs to touch the material, following it delicately until he cups your breasts with his palms. Maybe it is due to the design of this expensive undergarment, but you fill out the bra much more than either of you would have expected, your breasts round and pushing at it in all the right spots. This is the lingerie set that Jin had hidden behind your commissioned painting as part of your wedding gift, and Jimin had completely forgotten that it was in your possession. He chooses not to question how Seokjin knows your body measurements in order to purchase the present. Eyes trailing down, Jimin takes in the equally scandalous panties that adorn your hips, all parts solid white except for the crotch that remains lacy and see-through giving him a view that makes his mouth water.

You look absolutely stunning, and he tells you in as many words as possible.

“Your gift is not yet complete, General.” The look on his face is everything that you had hoped for, and you wish to shock him even further with your next move. Hooking your fingers into the towel at his waist, you unravel it and expose his growing length, sinking down in front of him.

Quickly, he grabs your arm once he realizes what you are doing, preventing you from going lower. You pout up at him. “My Queen, a woman of your status should never kneel on the ground for any man. You must remain dignified.”

“My dignity,” You half scoff at the notion, rising to look him in his beautiful brown eyes. “I have neither dignity nor pride. You have it all, my love; I have given myself to you completely.” You allow yourself to break from your role play just this once, he needs to know that your words are true. If there is anything he should know by now, it is that you hold no reservations toward him. With him, you are equal and you trust him completely. It is not like you have never serviced him before, but he has never seen you on your knees below him due to his own beliefs and you would like to change that tonight. “I want to do this for you.”

This time when you lower yourself, he allows you to drop until your knees rest on the ground. The view he has is undeniably sinful. You can tell how much he enjoys it by how rapidly he hardens in front of your face. But when you look up from your own spot on the floor, you find that your view is equally as jaw dropping. Jimin looks down at you from over his nose, the damp hair on his head sticking to his forehead and dangling over his eyes, shadowing his features into sharp lines. Every inch of his body is chiseled to perfection, displaying the hours of training he has undergone over the years to get to the level of skill you witnessed today, and if it were not for you already kneeling on the marble, your knees would have buckled right from under you. He is like a statue carved by the gods. And he is all yours.

“If a Queen wants her soldiers to keep performing for her she must reward them, and you are the very best, so I will be sure to give you special treatment.” Lightly grasping his member, you take the time to feel how he grows in your grip. Just the feeling of you running your fingers over his plush balls has him almost fully erect, the muscles of his abdominals tensing as you lean forward to slide him into your mouth, caressing the underside of his cock with your tongue without closing your lips just yet. You’ll work him up slowly, you decide, wanting him to savor this rare occasion in hopes that he will allow you to do it again sometime. Your palm smears your saliva around his shaft and starts to steadily pump him up and down, the simple action causing a groan to tear from your lover’s throat.

Jimin does not know where to look in this moment. Should he focus on your hands as the diligently work to pleasure him? Your tongue when it peeks out from your lips to tease at his slit? The dip of your cleavage that lie in his direct line of sight, framed so perfectly by the underwear you don? Or perhaps those smoldering eyes you stare up at him with, those plotting, gorgeous eyes that call to his deepest desires? You look as if you would do anything for him at this moment— you have intentionally put yourself at his feet to show how vulnerable you are willing to be with him, that you trust him to the utmost degree and you would sink this low, literally, to demonstrate that.

“Shit,” Jimin curses, eyes trained on the way your lips wrap around his reddening tip. You sense his hands fidgeting at his sides, so you take them to place on top of your head, nodding encouragingly until he weaves his fingers into your hair. He throbs in your mouth and you fight back a smirk.

Working meticulously, you take the time to circle your tongue around every sensitive place at his cockhead, licking slowly over his frenulum and flicking over his slit as it starts to leak. The flavor is slightly salty and entirely him, and it makes your legs press together from where your knees dig into the polished marble. Your lips and tongue play at his upper half for a while, one of your hands rubbing whimsical patterns along his tensing thigh while the other tends to his aching base, pumping in time with your mouth with a slight twist to your wrist that has his fingers tightening against your scalp.

“Are you enjoying your gift?” You break away to speak, twirling your tongue around the line of saliva that connects you to his tip in the most lewd way possible.

“Yes,” Jimin pants, clearing his throat when his voice comes out raspy. But the sound makes you drip into your designer panties, the flimsy material doing little against your increasing wetness. “How did you become so skilled at this, My Queen? You are such an angel but possess devilish talent with that pretty mouth of yours.”

“I had an excellent teacher.” You wink up at him, hoping he was imaging all the times he guided you when you wished to taste him, becoming more confident as time passed and you no longer feared your gag reflex. You figure now is a good time to demonstrate just how well you absorbed those lessons, you finally sink further down on him until he touches the back of your mouth, collecting your spit to slick him before pushing him deeper and into your throat. Your stomach quivers as you hold back the urge to gag, but he sees none of that because when you look up his head is tossed back in ecstasy and concentration. He must focus so he doesn’t cum so soon.

“Just like that.” Biting into the plush of his bottom lip, Jimin falls into the trance of your movements, bobbing up and down on him with his tip lodged in your throat. The first moan he lets out has a shiver crawling up your spine, deep and loud so it echoes against every surface of the room. Drool slides out of your mouth as you continue to suck him but you pay no mind to it, only focused on the way your lover’s body reacts to you. His chest heaves for breath and you can see perspiration beginning to coat his chest and neck, Adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. The hand that was previously occupied with the rest of his length moves to his balls, kneading and massaging the sack gently as more moans pour from his mouth. Your clit throbs the longer you suck on him, his cock now at full length and hardness and feeling so thick and heavy on your jaw that you can’t help but fantasize about feeling it inside you again.

His hips eventually begin to twitch and rock into each of your movements, but you can tell he is restraining himself from bucking into you fully. When his eyes connect with yours again, you nod as best you can, pulling off slightly to take a few deep breaths and kiss along his silky skin. Once you have your breathing back to normal, you poise yourself with your mouth open wide and tongue poking out, the sight of you inviting him into your warmth while dressed so scantly and looking up at him with such confidence making it incredibly difficult for him to keep his composure. Here you are, his Queen, the ruler of an entire kingdom by birth right who possesses such elegance and high esteem, sitting below him and offering your throat for his pleasure. This is something that no one else in the entire world will ever see and he feels something similar to pride swelling in his chest at that fact. He knows what you are silently asking him to do, so he does not keep you waiting a second longer before inserting himself back into your mouth and easing his way in until your nose is nestled in the trimmed hair above his pubic bone.

Curses leave him in a continuous string as he takes time to adjust to the sensation, a lightness filling your head that makes you feel like you are floating through the clouds. And that feeling only increases when he starts to move, pulling his hips back for you to take in air through your nose before thrusting in again. Jimin fucks your mouth slowly at first, warming you up to it before he starts to get a bit rougher and visibly more eager, his lips sucked into his mouth as he glares down at you. In any other context, you would think him angry if he ever peered at anyone this intensely, but now you only feel the pool of arousal that builds in your core and gushes out of you at the intimidating glower. Still, his muscles are rigid with hesitance.

“May I go faster?” He breathes, never pulling out to free your mouth to respond. You moan out an answer as best you can, running your tongue against him in approval until he finally releases his tension and follows the urges of his body. He doesn’t aim deep into you, but his pace is quick, surely bruising your esophagus, yet you cannot bring yourself to be bothered. The sensation is indescribable, his hands cupping the back of your head and the sheer heat of his body almost overrides the lack of oxygen in your lungs— and simply imagining the pleasure he is feeling because of you has electricity shooting down to your core. Jimin has his eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth, but they quickly shift when your hands find their way to your chest to pull down the bra just enough so your nipples poke out, both hands pushing your breasts together to give him a sight that almost causes him to lose his load right then and there. His hips lose control, stuttering and twitching as his eyes widen comically at the dream-like image of you, and he is forced to pull away after little over a minute of fucking your face. “Fuck-!”

“Is something the matter?” You ask innocently, knees screaming out from your sustained position. The veins in your husband’s hand bulge as he grips himself so tightly his knuckles turn white, his length jumping every time he opens his eyes to look at you. His use of hard profanity is enough to tell you how much you have unraveled him and you revel in the accomplishment.

“Get up here.” He pants, taking your arm in his free hand and helping you to your feet. You hear him click his tongue at the redness of your knees, but don’t have much time to dismiss it before his lips are on yours. Jimin kisses you deeply as if your face is not sloppy with saliva and his precum. He kisses you like it could save lives. And above every filthy thing you have done with him, this kiss is what makes you feel a bashful heat color your cheeks when he pulls you closer.

“Am I to assume I performed well?” You mumble against his lips, eyes crossing slightly to see his smile.

“You were outstanding. So much so that I nearly came down your pretty throat.” Smugly, Jimin unclips your bra, parting from your lips after several minutes of kissing to trace his tongue down your neck until he reaches your chest, forgoing all teasing to wrap his lips around a pert nipple.

“Oh-“ A surprised yelp leaves you and he has to use his strength to keep you from falling over, your legs suddenly feeling like jelly. Your fingers card through his drying hair, tugging at the unbothered man as he has his fun marking and sucking at you. As always, his mouth works miracles, but you have never felt anything like this before. Each swipe of his tongue around your nub has you moaning out his name, when he twists at the other nipple your head falls back in absolute bliss. He’s not doing anything extraordinarily notable, but it is like your body has reached a sensitivity that is completely new to you both. Jimin certainly is enjoying it immensely. His eyes are closed but you can see how they crinkle gleefully at the sides, his cheekbones high almost as if trying to conceal his amusement at your reactions. With puckered lips, he suctions one of your nipples before pulling back to speak.

“I can’t wait,” He grazes his teeth over your other tit before continuing. “-until these fill up with milk for our baby. I’m sure you will look incredible carrying our child inside you— even more amazing than you already look, my love. So round and plump... your cute little womb filled to the brim with my cum and baby.” Your eyes roll when one of his hands slips down your panties to tease at your lips. A growl resonates in his chest at the feel of your wetness. “You like the sound of that, don’t you? What would the people say if they found out that their elegant Queen got soaking wet just from sucking cock and thinking of getting her pussy stuffed full of cum? Hmm? Surely they will know how filthy you are once they see you swollen with my child, walking around the kingdom so shamelessly after getting marked by my seed. They’ll know just how good you’ve been for me, darling.”

“I want them to know I’m yours; I want to be pregnant with your baby so badly!” You sob, hips bucking into his hand as soon as he makes contact with your clit.

He soothes you with soft kisses along your face, ending with a lick to the corner of your mouth as you pant out loud moans for him. “I know, love. The time will come soon enough.”

Once again his lips return to your chest, and the combination of his mouth and fingers has your walls fluttering and clenching around nothing. Even after he removes his hand from your panties to hold you closer to him, you feel the building of an orgasm. Your body is completely taken by his tongue and teeth as they suckle cherry blossoms into your skin. And when his wet fingers travel up to twist at your unattended nipple, you feel your body careening off the edge unexpectedly.

“J-Jimin, I-“ Your sentence is cut short by a long whimper, mind going blank at the pleasure. You are able to feel how your walls snap open and closed, each pulse growing more intense as the high drags on for what seems like an eternity to you. Jimin groans at the sounds you make and he looks on in awe from where he still laves at your breast as you bite down on your lower lip to ground yourself. He doesn’t mind the way you tug at his roots in your bliss. The pain only adds to the throbbing of his cock.

“So sexy,” He murmurs as you regain your senses. You seem embarrassed, unable to meet his eyes, and he questions it.

“I have never-“ Averting your eyes to the ground, you look for words in your scrambled mind.

“You’ve never cum like that before?” For some reason you find it slightly humiliating and you have no idea why. Were you really that sensitive from not having sex with him for a few weeks? Your nipples were never that receptive before. Nodding in agreement, you hide your face until Jimin lifts your chin with his finger. “Do not shy away from me, My Queen. You look gorgeous when you cum.” Before you can process it, his hands are yanking down your ruined panties, drenched all the way through and dripping. Your back connects with the wall next to the mirror as you are pinned against the surface with his weight. His fingers slide over your clit and you jolt, attempting to close your legs, but he is faster and jams his thigh between yours to hold you open. “In fact, you look so good that I want to see you do it again.”

Without warning, he plunges 2 fingers knuckle deep into you, searching with little trouble for that spongey area inside you. You are wet enough to lubricate his fingers until he drips down his hand, the slick part of his palm beginning to rub harshly against your clit when his fingers curl upwards.

“Oh fuck,” You gasp brokenly when he reaches your spot. Feeling you clench, Jimin hums and goes to work massaging the area with the pads of his fingers, pressing his other hand to your lower stomach to increase the pressure. Since the first time you squirted he has been almost obsessed with the sight, working diligently to figure out how to make you do it again. There have been many nights dedicated solely to that cause— nights that you endured with bright red cheeks each time he made fun of your fucked out expression and hoarse voice— it is to the point where he now knows your every weakness and can manipulate your body with mastery. He knows exactly how much pressure you like when his fingers are deep inside you. He knows just the right way to massage that sensitive area to get you to fall apart again even if you feel overstimulated. He knows how to move his entire arm to hit that spot each time without fail, his technique flawless as he moves rapidly inside your clenching heat. Almost like a balloon filling with water, you feel another high building up in your core frighteningly fast and the lewd squelch coming from between your legs soon becomes the loudest noise in the room.

“Let go for me,” Jimin encourages into your skin, burying his face in the crook of your neck and panting hot breaths. It is easy to tell how easily he gets himself worked up when pleasuring you. His hard, wet cock twitches incessantly against your thigh, teasingly close to where you want him, and the feeling alone has you galloping closer to your second release. “You look so beautiful like this, pushed against a wall and taking my fingers. I bet you are just starving for my cock, aren’t you, My Queen? I’ll give it to you right after you cum for me. I want you to show me how badly you want it by soaking my arm with your sweet juices.”

The filthy words he feeds you only add to the hunger you feel for him. One of your legs lifts to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as the balloon in your core continues to grow. Your heart is in your ears, beating rapidly, and you have no other choice but to listen to him and release your pleasure. With one synchronized prod of his fingers and circle around your clit, you descend into depraved ecstasy and let the balloon pop. You black out slightly, ears ringing and body numb to the world except for everywhere that your husband touches you, but you are aware of the satisfied moan he gives at your obedience. Whispers of delicate praises tickle your chest as he rests his forehead on your collarbone to watch you soil the floors and his lower half with your clear cum. The sound of it splashing and splattering against each nearby surface is quite embarrassing but you can’t bring yourself to think of it when your legs are shaking this hard and your body is tingling with joy.

“Good girl,” You hear Jimin groan, pulling his fingers from you to wrap his arms around your waist so you don’t topple over on your wobbly leg. He figures it may just be easier to keep you up if both of your legs are off the wet floor, so he moves your other leg to wind around his waist before carrying you out of the room and away from the mess to the bed.

Your glazed eyes take him in as he stands above you, a hand running through his disheveled hair as he studies you as well. His face is flushed and sweaty and his chest rises and falls quickly, but you’re sure that is only partly due to the effort he has just put in. There are claw marks on his shoulders and you gasp. You hadn’t realized you were gripping him so tightly, but he doesn’t seem to mind the marks at all, focused entirely on the throbbing member between his legs. Your eyes drop down his toned body to where his hand leisurely strokes up and down his shaft, purposely avoiding the tip to keep himself on the edge. It is almost purple with built up pressure, likely painful by this point, and you will yourself to move your weak limbs to reach out for him, pulling him closer to invite him between your open legs.

He takes his place at your center, one hand pressing into the soft mattress beside your head as he leans over you. You want him to kiss you so badly, but you want him inside you even more. He acquiescences this by sliding into you smoothly before swooping down for your lips.

“Mm~ Jimin!” The thick girth of his shaft stretches you perfectly, ignorant of your ticklish sensitivity as it searches for the deepest spot within you. In no time at all Jimin’s hips are flush with your ass, lips and tongue swallowing your moans into his own mouth.

“(Y/n)-“ He moans in response. Eyes squeezed tight, he forces himself to remain still. “I lose my breath every time I take this dripping pussy of yours. I’ll never get used to it.” Flattered, you hide your face with his by pulling him in for another kiss. The two of you stay like this for a long while, adjusting to each other’s bodies and basking in the intimacy of the moment.

“My love, please move.” You whine when the stillness becomes unbearable, yet you grieve at the loss of his heat when he leans away to pull you closer to the edge of the bed.

The first thrust of his hips already has you squirming. Your slick makes it so easy for him to pump into you that he barely has to put in any effort at all, his hips snapping sharply into you from the beginning. You let your legs fall farther apart at his sides and bite your lip when Jimin’s eyes land between your thighs, staring intently at the place where your bodies connect. You’re sure he can see everything, from the way your lips spread open around his wide member, to the shiny streaks of your arousal that quickly slick the inside of your thighs. It’s like you can feel his gaze caressing you, your body feeling sensitive everywhere he studies. You moan unabashedly at the sensation.

“Do you like it, My Queen? Does this feel good?” He prompts, eager for your praise.

“Y-yes, I-“ It has been so long without his cock inside you that you can’t think clearly. All you can do is shout his name and cling to the bedsheets as he wraps his arms around your thighs and holds them flush against his front. The angle makes you stutter, his tip touching somewhere sensitive that has your thighs squeezing closed. “P-please, harder. Use me.”

“Keep these fucking legs open.” Jimin growls, thrusting more harshly now. You attempt to follow his command and unclench your thighs, but they shake violently as soon as they part and it takes immense focus for you to hold them there. Looking up at your lover, you see the dark look that overtakes his features, dominance radiating off of him as he gets lost in you. You haven’t seen this look on him in a long while, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t sexy. He looks like he wants to eat you alive, devour you whole and leave not a morsel of you left until he’s had his fill.

Watching Jimin gain so much pleasure from you takes you to another level of bliss. His fingers dig into your thighs as he pounds his cock within your depths, determined to pull more desperate sounds from your throat, and his teeth bite down on his plush bottom lip in concentration. Sweat now trickles down his brow from the humid heat of the room, undoing the bath he took prior and replacing the soap with the scent of sex that leaks from his pores. This man is undeniably the hottest person you have ever laid eyes on and you can’t help but clench around him at the visuals he’s giving you.

Feeling you clench, Jimin moans, dragging his eyes up your figure until they land on your breasts. They jolt with every harsh thrust he gives you and dance flirtatiously in front of him— he can’t look away. Suddenly, he leans down and snatches up your hands, pinning them above your head with his fingers intertwined with yours, nearly drooling at how delectable you look under him. Your breasts certainly look different, the shape has become rounder and they jiggle slightly more than he can remember, but Jimin doesn’t think much of this as he focuses on delivering hard strokes. You shiver when his tongue licks a stripe up your damp neck, sucking a spot just below your ear before nibbling the lobe. He knows this is a weak spot for you, and just as he expected, your walls tighten around him once more. You push against him, trying to free your hands, but he has them locked sturdily in his grasp, silently forcing you to submit to him. You probably want to wind your fingers in his hair or grip onto his biceps, but he won’t give up an ounce of power at the moment. Not while he is ravaging you like this. So you settle for squeezing his hands and soaking in their warmth, gasping breathlessly as he takes you. You are entirely at his mercy and you absolutely love it.

One of his hands moves down to grip your thigh and push it open, unlocking you from where you have been clenched around his hips. Both of your wrists now held in one hand and still pinned against the sheets. The bed frame creaks noisily as he changes pace, abandoning his hard and fast thrusts for a slow and deep grind that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Something feels different about you, about the way you feel around him as the head of his cock licks at your cervix. It’s softer than usual and open for him, almost begging for his sperm, and he thinks this is the perfect time to get you pregnant. He aims to stay deep inside you. Each powerful movement is purposeful, everything down to the slight arch of his back that allows his pubic bone to grind into your clit, and you feel like you’re going crazy.

“Oh fuck, Jimin! I’m close again!” Your voice is strained in your throat and he smirks at the sound. He can feel it, the swell of your walls around him as you near your third high, and he swears it’s tighter than usual. Your muscles begin to tense up and push against him, preparing for your inevitable release. And just because you feel like pushing his buttons today, you allow your thighs to attempt to squeeze closed again.

“What did I say?!” The depth of his voice shocks you briefly and your eyes snap open to look at him. His jaw is tight as his stare bores into you with deadly intensity. “Keep your fucking legs open. Or do I have to hold them for you?” You let out a whimper, not daring to move your hands from their raised position when he drops your wrists to push open your other thigh, leaving you dripping and exposed in front of him. Your skin dimples where his fingertips dig into you— though he is careful not to bruise you— and he seems to hit even deeper like this. “You used to be so well behaved, My Queen. Are you acting out just to get a rise out of me?”

You dodge the question. “Please, Jimin, please make me cum again.” You can hardly hear anything aside from the slap of his balls against your ass and the squelch of his cock pushing through your warm walls.

“You think you deserve to cum? What will you do for it?” A dark chuckle leaves his throat when he sees you genuinely thinking of a response, biting so hard on your lip that he fears it might bleed.

“Anything.” You breathe. You’re unsure of how long you can hold back your orgasm, he feels so good fucking you like this, pushing his whole length into you without mercy.

“Anything, darling?” A lecherous grin plasters itself onto his mouth at your expression. “Hm, are you just saying that because you’re desperate? I can tell it feels good, you’re leaking all over me. Do you like it when I go deep like this?” You nod with a whine, eyelids pressed closed to hold back from cumming. “Open your eyes. Look at how deep I am inside you.” Peeling your eyes open, you peer down at yourself upon his command and see where his own eyes are glued. A small bulge presses against your lower abdomen every time he pushes in, disappearing when he pulls out only to reappear with the next thrust. Neither of you can take your eyes off of the sight, absolutely mesmerized by it.

“Please, I’m so close!” You groan loudly.

“You say you’ll do anything, my love?”

“Yes!”

“Will you be a good girl and let me put my baby in you? Let me cum right here against this fertile womb and get you pregnant with my baby?” The effect of his dirty talk is immediate and you clamp down on him, barely holding back as his hand rests over the bulge in your tummy, adding the tiniest amount of pressure to it.

“I will! Please!” Tears wet your doe eyes as you look up at him, digging your nails into the soft sheets above your head to keep from moving your arms from their position. He notes this with a hum, speeding up his hips in reward for your obedience.

“I know you will. Now cum.” On command, your body lets go of all the pent up pressure in your core, gripping onto his length with unbearable strength. Your walls pulsate with so much force that you nearly push him out, and when he finally pulls out of you, you squirt once again over the ledge of the bed. His hands on your legs do nothing to quell the wild tremors that overtake you and the streams of tears that flow over the apples of your cheeks. You are truly a sight to see, flushed red and glowing with the aftermath of yet another ferocious orgasm. Your sensitivity once again shocks him into silence. He didn’t even need to touch your clit for you to climax.

His stiff member bobs like a flagpole in the wind as he takes you in. It’s so hard that it stands straight up against his abdomen, jumping with its own pulse. When you open your eyes it is the first thing you see, and your body heats up again.

“Can you take any more, my love?” Jimin questions with concern, tracing his hands up your waist soothingly.

“Always. I can always take more of you.” Despite the screaming in your limbs, you sit up abruptly and pull him down to the bed, rolling the two of you over as you lock lips. Jimin seems surprised but not opposed to the shift in power dynamics, sensing that you want to take the reins for now. Your fingers wrap around his base and line him up with your slit, showing not even a moment’s hesitation before dropping down and knocking the wind out of both of you.

“You do not have to-“

“No, Jimin, I want to. I am supposed to be treating you after all, let me make you feel good.”

Fuck, you’re hot. Not only do you look amazing on top of him, but your pussy feels much hotter than usual. And it’s so tight, as if it’s greedy for every inch of him and eager to suck out his release. He won’t last long like this, that is for certain. His hands support you as you shift into a squat above him— and maybe it’s the novelty of the position, but he swears it’s never felt this good before.

“I imagined this so many times, but I never thought I’d actually get to see you riding me like this.” He confesses in a strained breath. You press your palms into his chest to lift yourself up, lowering yourself experimentally before repeating the action with less restraint.

“Am I living up to your expectations?” It could just be the angle, but his cock feels unbelievably deep inside you, and you half expect it to hurt yet you feel no pain. There is not even the slightest bit of discomfort as he nudges at your womb and you attribute this to the three incredible orgasms you have already reached tonight.

“God, yes.” He can’t look away from where you impale yourself on him, your shaky legs spread wide to let him see every second of the erotic display. From the way you grip him every time you lift up, to the strings of your arousal and cum that weave a sticky web between your ass and his pelvis, and even to the way your clit swallows in delight, he almost goes lightheaded as he takes it all in. His throat bobs as he gulps, back arching off the sheets under your warm hands.

“Faster?”

You don’t wait for a response before you start speeding up. He’s close, you can feel it in the way he swells against your walls and see it in the way his neck and chest color that pretty pink color you adore so much. Your limbs are aching for relief and it takes all of your remaining energy to keep up your efforts, but you wouldn’t dream of stopping. No, you are determined to bring Jimin to his end no matter what. The high pitched moans he lets out for your ears only are more than enough motivation to keep going, but you are working for a prize much more valuable that the lovely sounds he makes for you. You want his cum. You want it so badly that it is the only thing you can think of, so despite the pain in your fragile legs as you bounce yourself as hard and fast as you can, you continue for him. You’ve never been afraid to put in a little effort, and this is something you are willing to work for.

“(Y/n), I’m gonna cum!” Jimin’s dialect shines through strongly as he grits his teeth through the pleasure you bombard him with. You know it must feel different for him, the pleasure is always so much more intense when you aren’t the one doing all the work, and this is the first time you’ve pinned him down like this. It’s the first time you’ve dropped yourself down to clamp your knees on either side of him and wrap yourself around his upper body as you pant into his neck, leaving sloppy kisses and coaxing him toward his high with whispered words. Now that the roles are reversed, you can see just how wrecked he is for you— the usually composed king now lies spread in a heap of matted hair, sweaty skin, and bitten lips, completely speechless and grasping onto your thighs in a desperate bid to hold onto his sanity. “Please, I- I-“

“Cum for me, My King,” You are sure your body has just about reached its limit, but you feel no pain or fatigue when you look into your lover’s eyes and find an unraveled man. “I promised I would take your cum and let you get me pregnant. Give it all to me, my love, I want it. Cum inside me, Jimin.”

Bucking his hips, Jimin loses all control and throws his head back in anticipation as he aids your movements with his strong arms. When he feels your lips on his chin, he leans forward and allows you to swallow his groans of pleasure, both of you starved for breath but unwilling to pull away from the kiss. Everything you have done for him tonight— wearing sexy lingerie, getting on your knees to please him, squirting not once but twice— culminates into this one moment and he doesn’t think he can take take it. It’s all too much. With three sharp thrusts from both of you, he climaxes with a shout, lifting you up along with him as his hips rise off the bed.

“Oh fuck!” Maybe you shouldn’t feel this way, but you giggle giddily at the state of rapture he’s in because of you. The veins in his neck pop out of his skin as he dumps spurt after spurt of his semen into you, and you think this is the biggest load he’s ever given you. It takes a long time for him to come down from his high and for a moment you wonder if he will be okay with the way he twitches and shivers as your hips roll to a stop.

He doesn’t seem to mind your weight resting on top of him, nor does he react to the light kisses you press to his drenched skin. He does, however, wrap his arms securely around you when you shift to roll off of him, holding you on top of his body until you both have caught your breath and can open your heavy eyelids enough to look at each other with tired smiles.

“I love you.” You grin, running your digits through his disheveled mop of hair.

“I love you more, My Queen.” He pulls you down for another kiss to silence whatever rebuttal you surely have prepared at the tip of your tongue because he knows what you will say. And the thought makes his heart swell.

It seems like hours pass before both of you can work up the strength to part from each other. You have to be carried to the bathroom because your limbs feel far too weak and Jimin is not yet willing to let you go from his embrace. He is mindful of the puddle that you left on the floor as he carries you to the bath, and both of you sink into the depths together to wash away all your sins. You stay like that until your toes are pruned and the water is slightly cooler than lukewarm, the time flying by as you talk freely about everything you can think of: your hopes for your future family, your day with Jackson and Lena, gossip about Lilian and her whereabouts— she has not yet returned to the lodge even at this late hour and you hope that she is safe, but more importantly, you hope that her night with that handsome male servant ends similarly to yours. She could afford to take tonight and tomorrow off to unwind a bit, you feel a tad guilty that her needs may be neglected in the kingdom as she tends to you nonstop in the castle. Sleep finds you both easily and you cannot drop the smile from your cheeks as you cuddle up with the man you love.

This afternoon would have been perfect if not for the way you were feeling. Sparse clouds float through the sunny blue sky, the mountains surrounding you blossoming with vibrancy, but the beautiful scenery is dulled in your bleary eyesight. The lightheadedness you’d felt upon arrival two days ago has returned, along with a pounding headache that dampens your mood.

Jimin and Jackson walk ahead of their queens, talking casually as though they had been friends for years. The sight makes your heart grow warm and you use it to distract you from your discomfort as you walk along the outside pathways to a different section of the enormous castle. Lena notices the shift in your demeanor fairly quickly, commenting that you look less energized than yesterday.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” She implores, her brow creased with worry.

“I had a very restful sleep last night, but it feels like my body is dragging behind.” You try to keep yourself from rubbing at your face. Royals are not supposed to show weakness and vulnerability in public, and even though you are only surrounded by Kyungsoo and a few of Lena’s servants, you wish to uphold your appearances. “I do not feel sick, however, so I do not think it is caused by illness.”

“Would there be any other reason for you to feel fatigued? We did spend quite a considerable amount of time in the heat yesterday.”

“Well,” The guards and servants lag behind you far enough for them not to hear your conversation, but you still lower your voice in modesty. “Jimin and I were intimate late into the evening...” You figure your late night activities are also the reason for the tenderness you feel in your breasts, your tight undergarments causing slight pain as they bind your chest.

“Ah, I see!” She beams back at you, giggling. “You were not used to such strenuous exercise. I have experience with that— one time Jackson kept me in bed for so long that I nearly fainted from dehydration! Jimin seems like he would have a lot of stamina, be careful with that one.” The wiggle of her eyebrows lifts your spirits a bit. Speaking of such lewd subjects is seen as unladylike, especially for royalty, but you find yourself uncaring of that when you are with Lena. You have never had a woman of your same age and status to converse with before, no one could ever relate or felt comfortable enough to speak freely with you. This closeness you have with her is a novel feeling— and it is likely that Jimin feels the same with Jackson.

“I’ll be sure to be mindful of that.” You smile, staring at the back of his head. Your husband turns to look at you when he feels your eyes as he passively listens to the other King recall a story, sending a wink your way before returning his attention to the man beside him.

“Is there any other possible explanation for your symptoms?” Redirecting your gaze to Lena, you catch how her eyes flicker down to your stomach, a small smile on her lips. As soon as you realize her meaning, you stiffen, legs nearly bringing you to a halt.

“No,” Your eyes fall to the ground. “I... do not think it is pregnancy. Before I departed from home I was examined by my doctor and she-“ You sigh. “I am not pregnant.”

“Hmm. Well, I have been pregnant 4 times and have experienced many symptoms with each of my children. What you described to me sounds familiar. Do not dismiss the idea just yet, (Y/n).”

Before you can even open your mouth to form a reply, you are hit with a wave of dizziness that makes the world spin. Kyungsoo is by your side in an instant, stabilizing you as someone asks if you are alright. You are led to a nearby bench where all of the servants crowd around you, Jimin rushing over when he hears the commotion.

“(Y/n)?! What’s the matter?” The world spins a little less when your eyes are closed, so you do not look up at him, but you can imagine the almost sickly worry covering his lovely face. You know he has been especially traumatized by the events of your wedding and you never want to put him in a situation like that again, but you can’t help the way your body feels. Distantly, you hear Jackson order a servant to get the doctor, footsteps skittering away as he comes to squat down in front of you.

“Are you ill?” Jackson’s voice calms the anxiety you weren’t aware you were feeling. It is frightening not knowing what’s going on with your own body. Lena’s words ring in your mind.

“N-no, it is just the altitude. I just need to rest for a minute.” Your excuse is almost convincing, but no one moves— except for Jimin, who moves closer to you on the bench to support your back. After a few minutes, your head begins to clear, though your vision remains blurry. Eyes silently peer at you from all sides and you can feel them hot on your skin, embarrassment now the prominent emotion you feel. “Please do not worry about me, I am fine, really.”

“Are you certain? We can rest here for a little while longer.” Jimin suggests gently, but for some reason this irritates you.

“I said I’m fine.” You snap, earning an even more concerned look from him. Just then, the doctor approaches, slightly out of breath and sweating. “I don’t need a doctor! I’m feeling better already. Look.” You no longer feel dizzy anymore so you attempt to stand, rising quickly from the seat to come face to face with Jackson as he rises as well. Jimin still has his arm around you, both men watching you closely. “See?” But as soon as you’re stable on your feet, the spinning returns as if on cue and you come toppling forward into Jackson’s arms, everything going black.

“You don’t need to do this, Jackson, I told you I feel okay now.” You grumble as he carries you to the infirmary inside the castle. He took you into his arms without hesitation when you fell, offering to carry you because Jimin was rapidly descending into distress. While you were only out for about 2 minutes before you regained consciousness, everyone had reacted as if you were dying.

Looking at your husband now, you can see how unnerved he has become. Because he is a General who has seen many battles, he has trained himself not to react emotionally in stressful situations— but you can read the look in his eyes as clear as day as he walks alongside you, watching you more closely than what is in front of him.

“That is what you said earlier, and then you fainted immediately afterwards. Do not worry, I don’t mind carrying you. I needed a little exercise today anyway.” Always a jokester, you crack a smile at his comment, rolling your eyes as the doctor leads him into a room to rest you on the bed. The doctor works quickly, taking a blood sample from you and leaving for the lab, having already taken your vitals when you initially passed out. “We’ll be waiting outside.” With that, Jackson takes Lena’s shaky hand and exits the room, leaving you in bed and Jimin hovering over you awkwardly.

“Please sit down, you are making me nervous.” You breathe. He blinks and nods absently, perching himself on the edge of the bed next to you. “Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that.” He laughs dryly. Jimin bites his lip when you give him a sympathetic gaze and take his hand. Your words from the argument you had nearly a month ago echo in his head. This is a chance for him to open up to you about his emotions and seek your comfort, your expression shows that you are expecting it of him, so he takes a deep breath. There’s no use hiding his emotions from you. “Truth be told, I am a wreck. You fainting brought back some rather unpleasant memories.” He confesses.

“I’m sorry.” You really are apologetic, stressing him out is the last thing you ever wanted to do.

“It is not your fault. I just worry about you so much. I cannot bear to lose you, my love, and I feel so helpless when things like this happen, it feels like I always have to wait for others to come to rescue you.”

“Would you like to become a doctor so you are more prepared, then?” He wasn’t expecting that response and snaps his head up to look at you when you laugh. “You cannot control everything that happens to me, Jimin. It is okay to let others help. All I need is for you to stay by my side, your presence is more than enough.” He nods at this, accepting the kiss you plant on his cheek and squeezing your hands.

Long seconds of silence pass as you wait for the doctor to return. Then, a sudden thought pops into your mind that makes you groan aloud.

“Lilian is going to be pissed at me.” You can’t help but chuckle at the circumstances.

“Why is that?”

“I told her to take off today and enjoy her time here, but she was worried about me so she initially refused. I assured her of my health this morning before we left. I can only imagine to look on her face once she finds out what happened.” You do feel a bit bad, Lilian knows you better than anyone and it is clear that she could tell something was off, but you convinced her that her instincts were wrong and now you find yourself in the infirmary. She will surely put herself down over this incident because of her absence when you most needed her.

“You can worry about her after we confirm that you are okay. For now, let us focus on this.” Just then, the doctor enters the room again, coming to stand at the bottom of the bed as you and Jimin look up at them with expectant eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest. You’ve become so used to hearing bad news from doctors, you are almost conditioned to be nervous and guarded around them.

“(Y/n), I have determined the cause of your sudden collapse.” Jimin squeezes your hand tighter and you can feel the sweat on his fingertips. “It appears that you are pregnant! Congratulations! The blood tests showed high levels of-“

“Pardon?” You interject with a raspy voice. Your brain is having a hard time processing the words and you blink slowly for a few seconds, unaware of Jimin’s shell shocked expression. “I- H-how can this be? My physician tested me right before I left and she said I was not pregnant.”

“Well, it is entirely possible to get false negative results, especially when it is early in the pregnancy. I don’t think it reflects poorly on your physician, these things just happen sometimes and are completely out of our control. But looking at my test results and the symptoms you have been experiencing, I am certain that you are about 6 weeks pregnant.”

“B-but I bled last month.”

“For how many days?”

“One or two...”

“Then that was likely implantation bleeding, which is to be expected. Dizziness and even fainting are also fairly common symptoms, so there is no particular need to worry about today’s incident— though I recommend that you make sure to get adequate rest and nutrition to avoid complications in the future. Once again, congratulations.”

Finally, you drag your gaze over to your husband who has been silent since the doctor appeared, and his eyes are filled to the brim with tears when they connect with yours.

“You- (Y/n), you’re finally pregnant!” He whispers, and the way his voice cracks causes the dam to break within yourself and all of your emotions come flooding out. Before you know it you’re wrapped in his embrace, both of you simultaneously sobbing and laughing into each other’s necks from pure joy and surprise as the doctor excuses themselves from the room. It is like all of the building frustration from the past several months has been crushing you slowly and now that weight has been lifted, allowing you to breathe freely for the first time. Jimin feels similarly. He has been holding back so many of his emotions since you first started trying to get pregnant and that has taken a tremendous toll on his mind and body, but for the first time, he can finally release those emotions and let himself feel the heaviness of it all. He is crying harder than you are, soaking the top of your dress as you cradle his head to you and hold him there. His hands ghost over your waist and lower abdomen so delicately, as if protecting the growing life inside of you.

When you’ve both gotten yourselves together enough to allow Jackson and Lena to visit, they rush in without hesitation.

“Is everything okay?” Lena is by your side first, immediately noticing your red and puffy eyes. You’re a little bit hesitant to tell her because you know she’ll gloat about her “sixth sense”.

“Yes, I’m alright. We just found out that I am pregnant.” The room erupts into noise, the two of them sounding like an entire circus as Jackson nearly jumps on Jimin in a bear hug and Lena squeals excitedly beside you.

“I knew it! You dismissed me so offhandedly and it turns out that I was right! I have a sixth sense for these things, you know; you should trust me more often.” Just as expected.

“And here you were, just telling me how worried you were about not yet yielding an heir to the throne,” Jackson throws a heavy arm over Jimin’s shoulder. “I suppose we should celebrate before you depart in the morning. I will throw a lovely ball tonight in your honor!”

“Oh, I must oversee the preparations then! Get some rest, (Y/n), and congratulations again!” And just like that, the couple is gone, rushing back out of the room and leaving you and your husband giggling.

“I am sorry, Lilian.” You apologize for what feels like the thousandth time. She continues to pout as she helps load your belongings into the carriage, barely sparing you a glance.

“I knew I should have stayed; I had a feeling something would happen.” She turns to scowl, not necessarily at you but it is in your direction. “I cannot believe I missed such a huge announcement as well! Both Jackson and Lena found out before me, this is so unfair.”

“You sound like a child,” You snicker, taking Kyungsoo’s hand as he helps you into the carriage behind Jimin.

“Yes, well I think I am allowed to throw a tantrum just this once.” You catch Kyungsoo crack a grin at her, the first time you’ve seen any emotion from him, and it brings a smile to your own face.

“If it makes you feel any better, Kyungsoo found out after Jackson and Lena, too.” Jimin comments, taking your hand and pulling you into his side.

“It does not make me feel better because he still found out before me!”

The sun is still low in the sky but slowly rises as you depart from the kingdom. Once you return to the castle, there are many duties that you must take care of, and many traditional processes you will have to go through now that you are pregnant— you are carrying a possible future heir to the throne after all. But you have never been happier. For now it still feels surreal, even though you have waited nearly a year for this moment, but as soon as the people of your kingdom come to greet you and celebrate the news of your conception, the reality of the situation will hit and you are sure you will be overwhelmed with new challenges. Pregnancy is not an easy thing, but at least you will have Jimin with you to help you through it all, just as he has always done. You rest your head on his shoulder with a mischievous grin.

“So Lilian, how was your date the other night? You seemed rather cozy with that young man at the ball yesterday evening.”

“It was not a date!”

[sehrish-munir]

My True Story

I was born in a lower middle class family. My grandfather migrated from interior Sindh to Karachi in late seventy. He had some ancestral land, which he sold and bought a 3 room flat in the heart of the city.

Whereas, he started a mini cloth shop to run the bread and butter of the home.

Before he could establish his new business, just after a year of his migration, he got a cardiac arrest and could not succumb.

As my father was the only child of my grandfather. At that time he just completed his matriculation. He tried to take over o

my grandfather’s business. However, within two years he gave all the shop to borrowers. As he was a teenager, he had no experience in business. Now my father has had only the earnings of grandpa i.e one flat.

My father and my grandma were in tension over how to earn the bread and butter. In that time of hardship, my maternal uncle came forward and helped my father to get enrolled in the education department as a junior school teacher. My grandma thanked God that now they had some arrangements for daily meals.

The time was going on. After a few years of my father's job, grandma decided to marry my father. For this she selected her niece. My father accepted his mother’s decision and married my maternal uncle’s daughter.

The day nights were passing like a dream. After fifteen years of my parents' marriage, they have 5 daughters and 2 sons. My number is third in sisters. Whereas, my both brothers are little from us.

With the passage of time my father’s income decreased. Whereas, the expenses raised manifolds. As my mother was a typical housewife, he had no contribution to the household economy. On the other hand my father had only a 14 scale government teacher job, which was insufficient for 9 members of the family. Out of which all the children were school going.

As we were growing, we were becoming a source of worry for our parents. Because they had very few income resources. My two older sisters completed matriculation at the same time.

My parents decided to send only one girl to the college on a regular basis. Whereas the other one will do a private FA. Therefore, my oldest sister sat at home and the little one joined the government college for FSc in biology.

Now it was a worrying situation for me. At that time I was reading in ninth class. My dream was to become a software engineer. But my father's pocket was not permitting me to do that.

I decided to do something myself. So I can contribute not only to the bread and butter of my home but also to make my dream practical.

In this regard I started searching for some kind of work that I can do after school time. At the same time I was also consulting with my friends and classmates. One of my friends advised me to learn some beauty parlor work. She also told me that her aunty (Khala) has a nice beauty parlor in the Gulshan area. Which was a few km away from home, so I can easily manage the outback. I liked the idea and decided to get permission from my parents. But getting permission was not an easy task. So I involved my older sister Mehwish in the plan, and requested her to seek permission for me.

One day after the dinner, checking the mood of my parents, my sister Mehwish told my parents that Anmol wanted to join a parlor. On this my father showed a strict reaction and said there is no need for this, and went to the bedroom.

After a few days we requested again, and that day my mother also supported us. Finally my father agreed on one condition that I and Mehwish can both join the parlor. Initially Mehwish was not interested, but after my insistence she surrendered.

Now the day has come, my friend was at our home to take us to the sad parlor. After walking for half an hour, we reached the said parlor. My friend’s aunty was a quite aged woman. She offered us the chairs, and asked whether we had any ideas about parlor work. We both replied that we are unaware about this work like a plain paper. However, she didn't mind as we went their with our friend. After serving us tea, she asked us to check all the parlor work and select the job you have to do. After seeing the girls who were already working there I have decided to learn Mehndi design or Henna design work. As I had good grip on drawing work. Whereas, my sister Mehwish chose to learn hair cutting work, because she loves the hairs.

After choosing our jobs, the parlor owner asked us to learn these jobs for at least three months, for that she will never pay us a penny. We both agreed on the terms and came home.

Next day after school I came home, after finishing my lunch hurriedly, we both arrived at the parlor.

In the Henna design section Iqra was my teacher, from whom I had to learn stylish mehndi designs. On the first day my teacher taught me how to grip a Henna cone. It was quite interesting for me to draw rough mehandi lines on a plain paper.

On the next day she gave some kids mehndi design patterns, and asked me to rehearsal on these designs. I was putting my whole heart into learning these as soon as possible. So I can help out my father with my monthly income. On the other hand, my sister was also working hard to learn something.

Due to my hard work and passion I start making simple mehndi designs in just one month. The parlor owner appreciated me and asked me to draw kids mehndi designs on a regular basis.

Now I have become an associate henna artis besides my teacher Iqra. Whenever a kid comes to the parlor with mother, I start making beautiful mehndi designs on their hands free of cost. It was a passion and keen interest which was forcing me to do such things. Many mothers gives me some money as a tip while leaving. Now I was able to bear my monthly personal expenses.

After three months the parlor owner came to us and asked that now you both have ample knowledge about your work. So from now I will pay you rupees ten thousand per month each and besides this I will also give ten percent as commission to each customer you will serve. She also advised me to learn some advanced designs like Arabic Mehndi Design. I promised her that I will learn every advance of Henna Mehndi designs.

On the way back home we both sisters were very happy. When we told this news to our parents they became very happy. My mother was very happy, like flying in the sky. As she knows that the extra income will help her to bear the additional expenses of house. Whereas she will also be able to make some drowery for her girls.

Life was passing very fast, as our hard days went off. After one year my mother has ample money. So she decided to marry my sister with his nephew who was working in a microfinance bank as a loan officer. My sister also liked that guy. So reaching upon the agreement both families decided to keep the marriage ceremony just after Eid.

We all sisters and brothers were very happy as my sister was going to be married. On the eve of Eid we all had new clothes, on Chand Raat I made beautiful Eid mehndi designs on all my sister’s hands.

On the same day, my father and mother were busy preparing for my sisters wedding. As they had fixed the wedding ceremony on the third day of Eid. My father booked a lighting arrangements service for whole week. A day before the wedding I had drawn some amazing bridal mehndi designs on my sister's hand. That was the first time I had draw any Mehndi designs for a bride. By the grace of Allah the marriage passed well. All the arrangements were very good. Everybody on the wedding were admiring us, specially my Dulhan Mehndi designs was also being liked.

After Mehwish’s wedding I rejoined my work alone. Mehwish's husband stopped her from doing any work.

On the other hand I was continuing to learn the latest mehndi designs coming into the market. For this I was using many online platforms like instagram, facebook and youtube etc to know the new trends in the field of Henna designs. This thing helped me to learn new and modern styles like Indian Mehndi Designs, Western Henna Tattoos and Arabic Henna Designs and other kind of mehndi ke design famous in the field.

It was a hot summer day, I was in college's library, when our college watchman came their in search of me and told that the principal is calling for me. I went hurriedly in principal's office, as soon as I entered she told me that my father has met an accident while he was coming from his duty now he is in ICU of city's major hospital. It was thunder like news for me, I ran from the principal's office in hesitation. Picking an auto rickshaw from the gate and reaching the hospital. When I reached the ICU I saw my mother, my little sisters and brothers were crying. Yes my father was no more with us. This was a heavy shock for all family members. I was feeling like I lost everything.

After the funeral of my father, everyone was talking that how will we survive. My sister Mehwish and brother-in-law have their own expenses. So they could not bear any other expenditures. My father has only monthly pay as an income, so after his death it will have to stope. Whereas, his pension and gratuity case was taking long to finalize. I was earning almost 25K per month, which was not enough for a family whose 90 percent members were school going. So I requested my parlor owner to increase my salary so I can cover the house expenses, but she replied that it is not possible now.

After a few months I decided to set up my own business of Henna designs. But I had not have enough money to set up any new business in a city like Karachi. In this regard I sought help from my brother-in-law as he was serving in a microfinance bank. He helped me to take an ample loan for opening up my own Mehndi design parlor. I selected a location for the parlor, which was nearby to my house.

Finally the day came when I inaugurated my own business. To meet the future requirements I took my little sister with me so she can learn the Mehndi art. First day I received only one order for full mehndi design. I charge rupees 2000 for my first project. I was very happy about that, because now no one will take a big share of my hard work.

As I introduced so many new mehndi designs myself. Thus the demand of my parlor was raising day by day

In 2019 I earned a lot of money during the wedding season, as I received many orders for Dulhan Mehndi designs.

I was inventing new mehndi designs in the field of body art with every passing day. So I have been booking a wedding for many days, and here girls demand to print some beautiful hand & foot mehndi designs. Therefore, I repaid my bank loan within one year, which was quite an amazing experience for bank staff too.

I have also bought a beautiful house in a posh area, where I am living with my family, cool and calm. My little brothers and sisters are reading in good schools. I am also doing my graduation degree from a well known University.

To promote my mehndi art I have made my own website. Where I place beautiful back hand mehndi designs and front hand mehndi designs. I have also made my own social media accounts, so people can know more and more about my business.

So this is my own motivational story for those who want to become something in life. At the end I will suggest you do not lose hope when something hard comes in life. If our Allah close a door, definitely he opens many new doors for us.

[victorian-nymph]

I mentioned a while ago reading De’s biography at my university’s library but I have not mentioned the especially silly tale of what happened for me to do that.

Anyway so to set our scene it's earlier this year and I’m fully hyperfixating on star trek, in addition, my infatuation with Deforest Kelley means I consuming almost every piece of his filmography I can get my grubby little hands on. I see various Tumblr posts referencing parts of From sawdust to stardust, most of which are straight-up unhinged and I am intent on getting my hands on this book. However, I have no income of my own (I am a full time student I should clarify and my parents do not mind this), I have a monthly allowance but the book costs about a quarter of that allowance which would leave a noticeable dent and likely be an issue later on. I could ask my parents to buy it for me but that would mean having to explain to them why I want the book and I think if I told my parents that of the Star Trek cast I was most attracted the middle aged man they would question my mental health.

So I must look for other avenues to read this and I find it, the university I attend has the book held in a special collection in the library, success. But a problem emerges; the rare and special books collection are not allowed to be taken out of the library, therefore, I have to haul my ass to my uni in the middle of the holidays, me being a bad liar I don't know an excuse I can use to go to my library in the middle of January, so I tell my parents I am going to have lunch with my best friend in the same area, which I will be but later in the day, so I ask my father to drop me off at my usual bus stop that takes me to my uni at around ten-thirty.

The second problem emerges when my father does ONE wrong turn means I miss the bus, he for some reason decides to try and catch up to it even though it mostly goes down side streets he gives up and drops me off on the main road that goes to the city and my uni, on me missing the bus he inquires when I will be meeting my best friend and I say "eleven-thirty" you know, like a liar and he's like "oh you have plenty of time" I do catch this mystery bus and I get to my university's library at around eleven-thirty which would be a success if not for me having to walk a while from the bus stop to get to the library, in heels. But I arrive there nonetheless.

The third problem emerges realising I have not been to my university in almost six months due to quarantine and I have no idea how the rare books collections works, I do not want to tell front desk I rented out this biography so I just look around the hold section not seeing the book filed under my last name thus I have to ask the staff and due to covid restrictions they have some complications with the issue and I'm talking to the librarian through a screen anyway but eventually I'm told "you have to go downstairs actually there's a special room where the collection is held." and so my silly journey comes to it's end, I am given the book half suspecting in my social anxiety induced state the receptionist is thinking "lmao old man fucker alert" and I sit down to read it for the next two hours and then I legitimately go to see my best friend for lunch.

Was this worth it? Should I just have asked my parents to buy it for me and avoid that mess? Maybe but now I have a slightly comical tale of how I lied to my parents not to sneak out to a party or go on a date but to literally go to the goddamn library.

[captaincvans]

Chapter Four: Skin to Bone

03/01/20

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 1667+

Warnings: Language; TW: Miscarriage

Series Masterpost

A/N: I apologize for the long wait for this chapter! I hope I do this story justice, and I hope you all enjoy the updates. If you have a kind word or two to spare, please drop by my Askbox- I really need it.

Y/N turned around at the door, seeing the hard face of her ex-boyfriend before he slammed the door at her face. She stumbled through the city, trying to numb her emotions and think about her next steps. She needed a place to stay, luckily it was still the holidays, and she had the next two days off. The first hotel she went to was booked up, and so was the second one, and the third one. She opted for a small motel in the quieter part of town, where it wouldn’t be bustling with tourists. She managed to get a single room with a king sized bed for a reasonable price. Chris didn’t leave her with much stuff, just her phone that was quickly losing battery, her purse, and a duffle bag that she threw her essentials in. Luckily, she always brought a battery pack in case of emergencies. She chewed on her lip for a while, wondering what to do next.

“Fuck it,” she muttered under her breath. She typed a quick text to Chris, hoping he hadn’t blocked her number yet.

I need the rest of my stuff. When can I pick it up?

She waited a few seconds before her phone pinged.

Tomorrow morning. John will be there.

Y/N didn’t bother to text back, her body exhausted from the day, her mind shutting down to protect herself from the incoming wave of emotions. She decided to retire for the night, just after showering in the dirty bathroom, she thought it would be best to stay in the clothes she came in, unsure of the last time the bedsheets were actually clean. Once in bed, the weight of the day came crashing down on her. Their three-year relationship was gone, just down the drain. Chris was someone she found herself imagining living the rest of her life with, but now their relationship has ended like this. Once a drop of tear escaped, there was no turning back. She was angry at him for not giving her a chance to speak, for not giving her the chance to tell him about the baby she might be carrying, but overall she was just sad. Chris had never behaved like this towards her, or anyone he knows for that matter! It would have taken a lot to get him this upset, but she just didn’t know what she did to make him upset like this- or if there was even a reason. Perhaps that was the most upsetting part of it all, he never gave her a chance to fix the relationship. He just gave up on them. He didn’t fight for them. Y/N spent hours grieving over the relationship she lost, mourning over the future she thought she would have.

Her heart was bubbling with anger and hurt, the feelings making her want to vomit, but she remained strong. She lived all her other years without Chris, and would be damned if she let him ruin her life like this. Overall, she felt defeated with the turn of events. Chris was as stubborn as a person would get, he wasn’t going to change his mind or listen to her while he was still this hurt. After a restless sleep, she woke up at around 9AM, unusually late for her, but she was grateful for the fact that it was now a reasonable time to head over to Chris’s apartment. She took her car, thankful that she always had a preference towards a CRV instead of smaller cars.

“Hi John,” Y/N greeted quietly, not knowing what his mood was going to be. She wasn’t even sure if he knew the whole story, and if he would be resentful towards her.

“Hi Y/N,” he replied. He gave her a small smile, sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?”

She shrugged. “Not great.”

He nodded, unsure of what else to say. “Do you need help getting these in your car?”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

John grabbed the box closest to him, and placed it inside her car. Slowly, but surely the car was starting to get full with all her stuff, and it left her heart aching more. Once the last of her items were in the car, John stopped her. “Before I forget. Chris wanted me to give you this.” He handed her a stapled contract.

“Oh right… The agreement,” Y/N mumbled. She never thought her relationship with Chris would end this badly, she never thought it would end, period. She was sure he was the one she would spend the rest of her life with. She would never forget signing this form when they reached their second year anniversary, almost a year ago. Chris hadn’t even told her about this directly, John had given her all this information on his own.

“Sorry about all this, Y/N.”

“It’s not your fault, John. How should I make the payments?”

“You can deposit it into the account shown on the last page. It should have all the information you need, and if you have any questions feel free to call me.”

She read over the letter, heart sinking when she saw the amount of money she owed, but she wasn’t surprised. Chris had spent quite a great deal on her and the relationship. She dragged her feet to the motel, hoping to find some apartments around the area that she can afford. She was far from poor, but if she needed to make monthly instalments to Chris, she would need to be smart with her budget. Afterall, paying someone $50 000 was not in her mind when she was making the budget for the year.

The first thing she did was book an appointment with her family doctor to confirm her pregnancy. Y/N was hoping to make the first appointment with Chris after she had told him, but now she supposed everything had to be done by herself. She went back to work the next day, refusing to stay in bed and wallow in her sorrow.

Her doctor’s appointment was on a rainy Wednesday, the weather matching her foul mood. She was grateful that they didn’t ask too many questions about the baby daddy, and instead focused on the her and the baby’s health, giving her all the information she needed.

A month after they separated, the investigation started. Y/N wasn’t sure what to think. She knew for sure she would never steal from Chris, she was adamant in proving that she was never with him for his money. But no one seemed to believe her. She couldn’t blame them. If Chris didn’t even believe her, how could she expect strangers to believe her? She did her best with giving as much information to the police as possible. They were looking into her accounts, but she was confident they wouldn’t find anything. She was positive in her innocence.

The stress was getting to her, pressure from her friends and family on why she and Chris broke up on top of the investigation was piling up. She woke up in her one bedroom apartment, a sharp pain in her abdomen. A pressure in her chest was building as an ominous feeling dawned on  her. She made a beeline to the bathroom, seeing the blood seep through her cream shorts, and she felt nauseous. She phoned her OB/Gyn in a panic, quickly washing up to Uber to her doctor. She wasn’t going to risk driving in this condition.Two long hours later, and she got her result. She had a miscarriage. While her doctor was going on with how often it happened, she tuned out. There was an empty feeling in her heart, and she wasn’t sure if it would ever be filled again.

Y/N had no time to grieve the loss of her baby because a month later the press found out about the whole investigation. After that her life became a living hell. The journalist and press were following her around like a piranha smelling fresh blood. Once the news became public that she was remotely involved in this fraud case, she was fired from her workplace with the excuse that they didn’t want to have the negative press on her team. The next few months were unbearable to say the least. Every day was harder than the previous.

Y/N left her home to do a quick grocery run, her small home was packed with paparazzis around her. She asked her lawyer a few months ago to move to a smaller apartment and somewhere she could have a small sense of security, losing her job and the payments she made to John made a considerable dent to her savings. Unfortunately, her lawyer said no. There were strict rules on what she could and couldn’t do as a part of this investigation as outlined by the court, and moving was not an option. As she was coming back, one of the journalist had gotten close to her, enough to hit her with their giant cameras.

“What do you have to say about the investigation?”

“Were you just with Chris for his money?”

“Did you steal from him?”

“Did you plan all of this?”

Questions were thrown at her, each one hitting her harder. She knew that she never had any intention of hurting Chris, even after all this time, she was no longer mad at him. Instead, she felt sorry for him. It must have been hard for him to accept that the people closest to him betrayed him, and she knew how sensitive he was to the people around him. He was always so friendly to people, and there were some that took advantage of his kindness.

“Please leave me alone,” she said, trying to avoid more cameras hitting her.

“What was that?”

“Can you repeat that?”

“Did you say to leave you alone?”

It was the first time she acknowledged them by talking to them, and they were eating it up. Now she was even more anxious. She knew not to have given them anything, Chris had told her that all the time when they were dating. Once they think they have a chance to get something out of you, they would attack and be more aggressive with their advances. Finally, she made it inside her home, quickly locking the door behind her and throwing her groceries on the kitchen counter. Once her hands were empty, she fell to her knees, tears quickly falling down her face.

-

Scott drove them both home, Chris being unfit to even get behind the wheels with his mind so jumbled.

“You gonna be okay?” Scott asked once they arrived at Chris’s farmhouse.

Chris nodded numbly, offering a forced smile. “Yea, I’ll be fine. Go on your date.”

“I can cancel-”

“Scott, really, it’s fine.” Chris punched his brother’s arm, trying to give him a semblance of his old self. “I’ll be fine. I’m good.”

“Okay. If you need anything- and I mean anything, call me, okay?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Yes, mom.”

Scott chuckled, shaking his head. He grabbed his duffle bag of stuff he brought when he stayed over.

Once Scott left, Chris fell to his couch. Dodger padding towards him, and throwing his toy next to him. “Not now, buddy.” He did, however, scratch the back of the canine’s ears. “I fucked up, and I gotta figure out a way to apologize to your mom.” He pulled out his phone, trying to find any sign on Y/N through her social media. She’s never been an avid user, especially once their relationship became public. He wasn’t surprised to find that she hasn’t been active since a bit before they broke up.

However, something on his Twitter caught his eye. It was a paparazzi photo of Y/N from the morning exiting a grocery store, and a few more from outside of what he assumed was her home. She was highly distressed, her sunglasses failing to hide the crease between her brows, and the way her body curled in itself. The tweet itself was hateful, telling Y/N she brought this upon herself. Chris flared with anger, seeing the replies and other tweets, all blaming her. Just like him, they didn’t hear her side of the story. He went through the journalist’s tweets, they wrote clickbait articles using her name, getting quotes from her friends and family that he knew weren’t all that truthful. One of the article broke his heart. There was a quote from her begging them to stop following her, to leave her alone, but they made a joke out of it in their writing. They weren’t interested in telling a story. They were there to just break her even more.

Chris went back to his page, and tweeted something for the first time in a few months.

<-- (Chapter 3)            (Chapter 5) -->

- Tag List - 

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[scapegrace74-blog]

Satellite Mind

A/N  I can’t stop myself.  I’m weak!  Weak!  The Saorsa-sequel is coming along, but the Metric universe just won’t leave me alone.  This story takes place just after Lost Kitten and Gimme Sympathy.  Previous fics are available on my AO3 page.

Oh, and mild warning for foul language, if that’s not your thing.

The song by Metric that inspired the title and a few lines is here.

January 14, 2017, Spittalfields, England

“I’m happy for you, Geillis, really.  I mean... Cartagena, wow.  You can, what?  Dabble in the emerald market?”

Her friend saw right through Claire’s glass face to her latent fear of abandonment.  Fiercely independent, a precious handful of friendships and habits anchored her in the world.  Without those tethers, she lived with a nameless dread that she might spin off into the void, lost in a great emptiness.

“Dinna lie tae me, Claire Beauchamp.  Ye havna left yer bed in the twenty-four hours since I told ye.  Ye’re jus’ starin’ up at the ceiling.  Ye ken I wouldna ever want tae leave ya were it no’ for someone truly special.�� Juan Carlos, he’s...”

“Built like a stevedore and hung like a stallion, I believe were your exact words,” she interrupted, smiling despite herself at Geillis’ moonstruck infatuation.  The redhead had met the Columbian businessman at a New Year’s celebration and now, two weeks’ later, had dropped the bombshell that she was planning on following him back across the Atlantic in the spring, leaving Claire without a roommate just as her income was nearly halved by the commencement of her medical studies.

“Aye, he is that.  Everyone thinks I’m mad, but it’s the real thing between he and I.  I jus’ feel it.  Ye’ll ken the feeling yerself one day.  But I willna leave ye high an’ dry.  I’ll see ye settled, a’fore I go.”

Claire doubted that very much.  It was Geillis’ name on the lease, which meant that as soon as she gave notice their landlord was free to increase the rent.   Spittalfields was moving upmarket as one dilapidated industrial building after another was converted into lofts and chic office space for the urban gentry.  There was no way she’d be able to afford the new payment at their current flat, even if she could find another roommate she could stomach.  And moving out on her own was equally out of the question.   The ghost of her past mistakes haunted her most when she was alone.

***

February 2, 2017, Royal London Hospital, England

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”  A metal spoon clattered into the break-room sink and a few other nurses glanced over, trying to decide if bloodshed between the two was imminent.

“Tis is a matter of some debate,” Geillis replied, undaunted.  She’d expected this reaction, which was why she’d cornered Claire during the short overlap between their shifts when she couldn’t run away.  At least the British Army had left Afghanistan, although South Sudan was still a possibility.

“James Fraser.  You approached Jamie Fraser, without my permission I might add, to find out whether he still had a room to let.  I cannot fucking believe you, Geillis Duncan!   Where do you get off...”

“First,” Geillis interrupted the predicted tirade by holding up her index finger, “you yerself remarked on his lovely flat, and how fastidious he was.  Second, tis in the neighbourhood an’ right around the corner from tha’ chipstand ye love.  Third, ye’re both shift workers and will hardly see each other.  Fourth, if ye do bump inta the wee fox cub when he’s runnin’ about in his skivvies, weel, thas a hardship many a lass would be willing tae face in yer place.  And fifth,” here Geillis raised her palm and outstretched fingers right in front of Claire’s nose, “ye can afford it.”

Claire huffed, but was otherwise silent.  She couldn’t deny that Geillis’ points were mostly valid, but she hated the idea of accepting charity from Jamie, of being seen as a burden.  If she’d approached him herself, perhaps...

“Wait a second.  How did you even know Jamie still had a room to let?  Have you been in contact with him?”  Something toxic simmered in her belly.   Geillis and Jamie texting each other.   Talking about her behind her back.  Sharing intimacies from which she was excluded.   It was a flashback of a feeling that hit too close to home for comfort.

“Och, no.  Didna I tell ya?  I ken the lad’s uncle, Dougal Mackenzie.  Bald as a billiard cue, but tha’ man can fuck for hours.  I remember one time, we were...”

“Oh my god, Geillis, please tell me you didn’t cheat on Jamie with his uncle!”

“It canna be cheatin’ if ye were ne’er together tae begin wi’,” Geillis pronounced.  “Ye’re too ecclesiastical by half, Beauchamp.  T’anyway, I hadna met Dougal when yon lad and I had our... dalliance.  But imagine ma surprise when I showed up tae meet Dougal at Bethall Fire Station in a wee red dress tighter than a nun’s chuff, an’ standin’ right next tae him is the fox cub, face turning bright as a forge.  Twas an awkward moment tae be sure, even measurin’ by my very high standards.”

***

February 13, 2017, Spittalfields, England

“Ye’ll be wantin’ tae look about the kitchen, I reckon.  Twas the only room ye didna really see, when ye were here last.  An’ the storage locker, but there’s nought down there but sportin’ equipment tha’ reeks tae high heaven.  No’ that I dinna try tae wash out the stench, mind you.”  

Jamie resolved to limit himself to two word sentences for the rest of the tour.   Anything more was too great a risk to his dignity.

“It’s lovely, especially with the morning sunlight streaming through the windows.  How much is the monthly heating bill again?”

It was almost Valentine’s Day and Claire still didn’t know where she was going to live come March.  She’d flipped through free rental magazines and scrolled a few message boards, but hadn’t made any serious efforts to secure a new home.   She told herself she was too busy preparing for medical school and working full-time, but in the back closet of her mind she allowed the idea of moving in with Jamie to take root.   

Then, last night while drifting through the deep fog just before sleep she’d had a thought.   Living with Jamie would finally put an end to all of Geillis’ awkward match-making efforts.  If they were roommates, they couldn’t be anything else besides.  Rolling over and grabbing for her phone before she could second-guess herself, she fired off a quick text to the number Geillis had added to her Contacts under Wee Fox Cub.   Despite the late hour, two minutes later he texted back.   And now here she was, seriously contemplating the impossible.

They were sitting across from each other on the couch, negotiating terms.  Claire found herself making ridiculous demands, somehow hoping that Jamie would balk at the last minute and this perilous adventure would come to its natural end.

“I’ll be studying when I’m not on shift, so loud noise and music is a deal breaker for me,” she listed while eyeing the bowl of trail mix set out on the coffee table.

“I own a good pair o’ headphones, and my sister would tell ye there’s a reason I dinna sing outside o’ the shower.   Did ye want some?”  Jamie extended the bowl in her direction, but she shook her head.

“If I’m to live here, the flat will need to be ours equally.  I know you lived here first, but I’d be paying half the rent.  That means we share common elements down the middle.  Half the cabinet space, half of the refrigerator and freezer.”  She looked around the main room, where it was obvious Jamie did most of his living.  “I’d want to put my desk below the window there, where there’s lots of natural light.  I don’t want to always be hidden in my bedroom like some low-rent AirBnB guest.”

“O’ course,” Jamie quickly agreed.  “I can clear out some of my books and such from the shelves as weel.  And I was thinkin’ of movin’ the Xbox inta my room.  There’s ano’er TV in there, ye ken, so ye won’t be exposed tae my tears while I’m watchin’ Six Nations matches.”

“That won’t be necessary, Jamie.  I really don’t have many things.  Some holdover to my years living out of a suitcase with my uncle, I suppose.”

He was being altogether too agreeable.  It was time to break out the big guns.

“We need to talk about one last thing.  Some might think it usual for a young woman who is single, living with a young man who is single to feel a certain...”

“Wha’ makes ye think I’m single?” Jamie interrupted, and she snapped her mouth shut in surprise.

“Well, with your history with Geillis, and I’ve never seen you with someone, I just assumed...” she trailed off, fighting down the urge to bolt.

Jamie laughed.  “I’m teasin’ ye, Claire.  O’ course I’m single.  Do ye think I’d be contemplating inviting a bonnie lass tae share my flat if I were spoken for?”

“Well, that’s just the thing, isn’t it?  People might make assumptions.  One of us might do so as well.   Feelings would get hurt.  So I think it’s important to be very clear at the outset.  You seem like a lovely man, but there will never be anything between us.”

“Because of my history wi’ Geillis, y’mean?” Jamie asked.

“Well, that as well.  But also because I’ll be far too busy with work and my studies to sustain any kind of relationship, least of all with someone who, when things fall apart, would be in a position to leave me without a roof over my head.  I’ve been there before, and I don’t intend to ever go back.”

“Aye, I see.” Jamie nodded absently, obviously digesting this large morsel of information and not finding it entirely to his taste.

“So that’s my final stipulation.  I don’t mind if you have overnight visitors. You’re a grown man, and you can act as you please.  But we need to agree that any kind of romantic relationship between us is off-limits.”

Claire grabbed a handful of snacks and popped them into her mouth.  She observed Jamie as she chewed.  In retrospect, this was a brilliant move on her part.  If Jamie accepted, she would have solved for both her housing crisis and her ambivalent feelings towards the Scot.  And if he declined, well, that would tell her something too.

Squaring his shoulders, Jamie extended his hand.

“We’re agreed.”

And that was how Jamie and Claire became just roommates.