#that fire was the most stressful thing ive ever endured

[lesbicosmos]

my dps sims household part 5

(part 4 here)

charlie and cameron spent most of this chess match yelling at each other

they just sat at desks next to each other in the classroom and read their books (while wearing each others jumpers)

they're talking about their radio

they're just so...domestic?? (also i love knox just asleep in the room next door)

POEM BOY CAN FINALLY POEM

meeks very excitedly drawing a mathematical diagram

oh god not again

FOR FUCKS SAKE

THE FIRE SPREAD OUTSIDE AND THEY HAD TO CALL THE FIRE SERVICE AND THE FUCKING FIREFIGHTER DIED

WHY IS THE GRIM REAPER JUST DOING THEIR DISHES NOW WHILE EVERYONE ELSE IS IN PANIC 😭😭

other (significantly less stressful) things that have happened

-there's no saxophones in the sims so charlies been learning violin, and he's been practising in his dorm...as cameron's trying to sleep

-neil and todd got more sentiments

-meeks put his maths drawing on his bedroom wall

-uhh they now have the tombstone of a firefighter just...in the garden

-2 sim days til the wedding! ive sorted the location and everyone's outfits out

[gravidtopiary]

it's never too late.

6 years ago i was miserable and drunk and overweight and had a beard and was living with my mentally disabled sister helping raise her kid and i had just been unjustly fired from a job i'd had for 14 years and also i was dying in the hospital from renal failure (my skin and eyes were bright yellow, jaundice ftw) brought about a mix of an undiagnosed immune disorder, alcohol, stress, and also mononucleosis apparently?

and then a lot of something's happened, some medical, some psychological, and some that are hard to explain or understand.

a momentary aside -- i didn't have a near-death experience as you hear them described, with the tunnels of light and well-being and all that wonderful stuff, but something happened (or maybe it didn't and was a morphine hallucination ofc) i've tried and failed many times to try and write down what (if anything) happened there but it's like words just slide off trying to describe anything about it. there was just a SOMETHING that happened and it is the single most important inflection point in my life, and even at that i can't even tell you what it is.

something happened to me for which there exists no descriptive language.

putting aside the possibility of the divine, after this point things everything changed. i'd been in hospital for a week or so on huge amounts of IV fluids and nutrients (IV potassium citrate is pure unadulterated agony, i cannot recommend it except for in how it helped me not die), swallowing mounds of Prednisone capsules every few hours, enduring liver biopsies and the indignity of having friendly 20 year old nurses give me showers and wipe my butt when i finally started pooping again (that was another exciting symptom of my recovery, having to regain muscle control over my pooping muscles and then having to shit out these turds heavy and dense like good Christmas cake). but i was experiencing these pains and indignities, not just enduring them. i stopped waiting to die.

i lay in bed in the darkness one of these nights when all you can hear is hospital air movement and the susurration of the nursing station panopticon and everything hurt and i wanted a beer and i realized i might not die and that really wasn't a huge jubilation for me but there it was. "okay," i thought. "you can't drink booze ever again."

"oh god no," i thought, because i'd been drinking pretty hard for almost a decade (i had decided to transition back then and was moving towards that and then everything fell into chaos in my family and personal life and it was NOT GOOD and i had to stop) and i knew booze was GUARANTEED to smother the sadness and despair i had, over these feelings of being trapped in this life, this horrible male body, this mockery of presenting as straight, the endless waves of anxiety over anything i'd done or could do that would be "embarassing".

what a disgusting word embarassing is.

"oh god no," i thought as i saw my alcohol free future. "let's make a deal."

"no," said the living part of me.

"a future agreement then?" the booze-brain offered.

"i doubt it. but i'm not not listening."

"no more booze but not forever, like if science invents a robot liver that can get me drunk but won't kill me?"

i sighed at myself. "in that case, then, sure, not forever."

booze-brain pumped her little fist triumphantly but then looked sad. "that could take a long long time."

"yes," i replied, and we both could see the sober future stretching ahead of us grey and endless like in a fever hallucination.

"we can do lots of drugs to make up for it, though," my sober brain said, suddenly horrified. "but nothing that is harmful."

"sooooooooo..." my booze brain asked, rather coyly.

"weed and psychedelics mostly. and opiates but probably not, but i'm leaving that option open. oh and ketamine i guess?"

my booze brain started taking notes. "what about GHB?"

"where would we find GHB?" i thought, a little derisively, "but sure."

and with that, we had a deal. and then booze brain went away because this Concord of Drugs that had just been finalized meant that one issue was resolved but the big one remained.

"what am i going to do if i can't stop drinking to suppress my feelings and desires?" i thought. "i'm trans but i can't transition, i'm huge and i'm 40 and i'm losing my hair and everything i've ever read about transitioning says that hormones take years to work and also they don't do anything so why bother! and it would be so embarassing when i don't pass because everyone will make fun of me and call me a faggot "

"that might be true," i thought agreeably. "but so what? you're not dead right now but that's not going to be forever, and wishes and hopes don't do shit and neither does avoiding yourself."

"aw fuck," i thought.

"besides we've pretty much gone through as much humiliating embarassing shit as we ever could have imagined -- having strangers scrub our tiny penis and being fired from our career over things that never fucking happened and having to wear a diaper because we lost bladder control for a while and having our fucking sister go through my room after i went to the hospital so she could throw out most of our stuff and send us mocking text messages about all the girl clothes in our dresser and--"

"okay," i thought quietly. "i guess we're going to do this, fuck."

"but first let's get out of this place ASAP so we can at least have access to weed for all our various ouches?"

and so we did. my doctor thought i was insane for even thinking about leaving, because i was still using a wheelchair and needed help to do everything. he also almost definitely thought i wanted to get out to start drinking again.

but i wasn't worried about that. i didn't have any particular love of how i felt when i was drunk, but i loved the way it made me NOT FEEL. but now that option was not available to me -- that's how it felt, that's how it was. i'm well aware of how well we can lie to ourselves but this was different.

this is too long and i have to go chainsaw some trees for winter firewood so so so

i got better. i wanted to get better, and the nurses could tell. i wanted to see if i could get strong enough to use a walker and they exercised me and hauled me around and i did get stronger and i could use the walker. "so," i thought, "i've defeated being bed-bound and now i have defeated my wheelchair and it will be the walker next and then canes."

and i did. my doc was kind of despairing -- "you cannot leave until you show me you can walk up a flight of stairs unaided, and even then i need you to promise me you'll be back if anything even slightly goes wrong."

"totally," i said, and i meant it.

anyways this could go on for pages more and but so, in summation, in summary, i'm now 47 and i'm so goddamn physically active now and i lost 50+ pounds of flab and am busy replacing it with estrogen muscles and lots of other things, OH and i wasn't going bald, it was a nutritional problem, but most importantly:

i've been sober for 6 years straight, i'm poor, but happier than i've ever been in my life, and i'm growing titties 😎

so fuck yeah, be gay do crimes and reach for that fucking rainbow each and every one of us 😋

[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!”

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Homage posted, 9-7-22)

Eomer, Aragorn and Faramir consider their wives.  (Fluff, Introspection)

 Homage  -  (Oct, 9 IV)

The three men sat silently staring into the fire, tired after the long day, but glad they were finally heading home.  In an effort to lift the somewhat somber mood, Faramir proposed, "If you could describe your wife in a single word, what would it be?"  He let them consider that.

"You go first, since it was your idea," suggested Aragorn.

Faramir nodded agreeably. "All right.  I think, perhaps, the word would be passionate." There were chuckles and raised eyebrows, and he flushed slightly.

"That is not what I meant, though she is certainly that as well," he admitted.  Elaborating, he told them, "Eowyn has a passion for life.  She approaches everything with energy and determination and...passion.  Nothing is halfhearted with her, not even her love for me and our children.  I sometimes feel like a stodgy old man next to her, and I wonder that she chooses to be with me, but she also inspires me to live more fully and love more deeply than I ever thought possible before I knew her."

He fell silent and the men contemplated his words.  Without urging, Aragorn spoke next, "Arwen is...tranquil.  In all things there is a calmness and peace about her that is soothing.  Some days, after a tense session with my advisers, I am a bundle of knots, but just a short time in her presence and my peace is restored.  No alarm is too serious, no tragedy so great, no sorrow so deep that she does not weather it tranquilly, and she shares that peace with all around her."

Eomer was the last, and he took the longest to respond. At length, he raised his mug of ale to his lips, but before he took a swallow, he said quietly, "Courageous." The word hung there in the air, and when he made no move to explain, Faramir urged, “Why?  What has she done that is courageous?”

Eomer took another swallow, and then stared into the mug, before declaring, “She married me.” Something in the way he said it did not invite them to pursue his reasoning.

Aragorn stood.  “Well, I think I will call it a night, gentlemen. It is a long ride home.”  He moved toward his tent, and Faramir stood to follow his lead, but hesitated a moment, and squeezed Eomer’s shoulder in understanding.

Eomer looked up and gave him a half smile before he moved away.  He sat, continuing to stare into the flames as they slowly died down to glowing embers. 

It wasn’t the first time he had had such a thought about his wife, and this trip to Gondor had reminded him forcefully of all she had to endure on his account.  She had watched him ride away to battle more than once during their marriage, but this time he left her with two young children and the possibility of another on the way.  She was far from her homeland, with none of her relatives nearby and, if he failed to return, she would be called upon to rule Rohan until his son was of age to do so.  Her father and brothers were soldiers and her father ruled in Dol Amroth; she had not entered into the marriage unaware of the difficulties that might arise, but she could hardly have expected to brave so much in just a few short years.

She did it because she loved him – there was no other reason she needed.  And there was nothing she would deny him, if he truly wanted it. She had proved that on more than one occasion.  How could she face the unknown, the trials, the fear, the stress, the uncertainties of life as his queen?  Courage. He could put no other name to it.

He didn’t deserve it; he didn’t even ask of her most of the things she sacrificed just because it would please him.  But one thing he did know.  With his dying breath he would do everything in his power to never make her regret choosing him.

He yawned tiredly, then swallowed the last of his ale in a single gulp and rose.  A few days and he would be back in her arms, his family close about him.  A smile lit his face at the thought, and he moved toward his tent to begin the slumber that would hasten the new day.

THE END

 also on AO3:

              https://archiveofourown.org/works/41467341/chapters/104238636

[lemondropsssss]

ok but imagine jaskier has to take geralt home to lettenhove for some reason.

and maybe ciri is there, maybe they’re on the way to kher morhn and they run out of food money and supplies and it’s not like geralt can take a contract what with his armor and swords under the ruins of cintra. and jaskier just looks at their tired wet cold faces and is like fuck.

im gonna have to see my family aren’t i. and so he takes them to lettenhove and his plan is to leave them at the inn outside the gates bribe the gaurds and then get food and supplies from the household staff he can trust and neither geralt nor his family would be any the wiser.

but the fucking minute he steps into town someone shouts “master julian!” and he’s totally fucked. it’s the old fletcher who worked in the castle when he was a boy, who had let jaskier watch his work even when he was supposed to be at his lessons. and it isn’t like he can ignore the man, he showed him such kindness as a boy.

so jaskier goes to talk to him while ciri and geralt share the same look of “master??? julian???” but then more of the lettenhove townspeople take notice and more and more want to come greet good master julian who was always such a nice boy, and isn’t it lovely he’s finally come home and is that his daughter isn’t she lovely

when the attention shifts to ciri geralt is immediately protective and on guard but jaskier seems comfortable with these people so he stops himself from audibily growling. just.

and jaskier extracts himself when he hears the tromp of booted feet and sighs deeply but steps in front of geralt to meet the soldiers. both his companions tense behind him but he just greets amrah with a cheery smile. the man gives him a slight bow and now geralt and ciri are completely lost because usually soldiers plus jaskier leads to geralt poking holes in people.

they follow the soldiers up the road to the keep. both ciri and geralt have questions. a lot of questions. so many questions. but when they both try to ask jaskier shoots them a warning look and shakes his head. he trusts the people of lettenhove, but there is a war on, and even the kindest people can be turned if their children’s lives hang in the balance.

there’s a young woman waiting in the yard when they arrive. she’s beautiful, long dark hair and a smile tucked away but close to the surface. jaskier bows deeply to her, ciri curtsies, and geralt inclines his head which is just about the same respect he offers anyone.

“you’ve returned. how delightful.” she does not look delighted. “you will follow me, and listen intently while i shout at you. your companions will be delivered to your rooms to await you”

jaskier looks about to argue but holds his tongue. he and geralt have a wordless conversation over ciri’s head before the witcher grunts and tilts his head in acquiescence and he and ciri follow the waiting servant.

they’re delivered to a set of rooms nicely decorated but lacking any kind personality.

“geralt what is-“

“I don’t know”

“but who’s juli-“

“I don’t know”

“why was that woman-“

“ci- fiona. if i knew i would tell you” geralt did not want to explain to his child surprise the concept of a kept man.

when jaskier comes back geralt does a cursorary scent, but the bard just smells like stress and his lavender hand cream. his hair stands up like it does when he’s been messing with it, but he looks no worse for wear.

“well. this wasn’t exactly what i had in mind when i suggested resupplying here”

“jaskier”

“yes dear witcher?”

“what. the actual fuck. is going on. if you’ve brought us to another house you’ve cuckolded-“

“what? you think? geralt! that’s my baby sister!”

of all the answers geralt thought he’d get, that wasn’t one of them.

“but you’re a bard”

“what, do you think bards just pop out of the ground fully formed? gods geralt, ive never known you to be thick. i told you we were coming here.”

“no, you said we were coming to lettenhove, you never said anything about a sister!”

“22 years and he still can’t remember my name. fiona, dear, do you remember how i introduced myself when we first met?”

“julian alfred pankratz, viscount de lettenhove, and the greatest bard who ever lived” ciri parrots from her place across the room, sprawled out on the soft bed.

“thank you dear. don’t fall asleep, we’re all expected at supper.”

“jaskier.” it’s geralt’s ‘tell me now or i throw you off the battlements’ growl.

“yes yes, fine. i left when i was very yong. technically i was supposed to return from my life as a wandering bard when my father died. you can probably tell i did not obey that particular order. vanya, my sister and the lady de lettenhove, took over day to day affairs some time ago and from what I heard was doing a fantastic job, much better than i ever could. so i just. haven’t come home.” he shrugs “the people were happy with her, she enjoys caring for them, and i don’t belong here. i wasn’t ever planning to come back but well. we are in desperate need of money and supplies if we’re ever to reach kher morhn alive.”

and geralt is geralt so coping mechanisms are limited when you find out that almost always desolate bard who’s floated around you for 25 years is also a fucking lord. so he copes poorly by crossing his arms frowning and not saying anything at all. because strange new lordling jaskier also has a reasonable point, which is distressing to geralt for a whole hoast of reasons he doesn’t himself understand.

so geralt agrees and they stay for dinner while supplies, including mounts for all three of them, are prepared. and if geralt notices vanya watching him he doesn’t mention it. he doesn’t smell fear off her, but people have plenty of reasons to watch a witcher at their table, so he doesn’t bregrudge her it.

they send ciri off to bed before the meal is done, the girl is almost asleep in her stew. jaskier and geralt excuse themselves shortly after.

“master witcher? a moment, if you please.” vanya’s low voice stops them, and after a silent exchange geralt lets jaskier leave them.

“is there something i can do for you, my lady?”

vanya smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“not as such. please, sit. no need to stand on formality here.”

so he sits stiffly, not sure why this woman would ask for him.

“my brother is a strange man. always has been. such an odd boy, always with his head in the clouds.” the smile on her face and affection in her voice are the only thing that stop him from growling at the way she speaks of jaskier. “he loves you.” that gives him pause. “you know it. he knows it. half the continent knows it and there’s a war on. tell me, master witcher. do you intend to break my brothers heart again?”

she’s smiling but her words are sharp, and they cut at geralt. their reunion after the dragon hunt hadn’t been what geralt had wanted. ciri had been with him, and geralt knew most of the reason jaskier had agreed to travel together again was the girl. they’d been off with each other ever since, dancing around the past without ever coming close.

“i don’t know what you’ve heard, my lady, but jaskier and i never had-“

“spare me, please. i knowmore about my brothers proclivities than any sister should ever have to.” again, the smile that didn’t meet her eyes “you’re a witcher, so any threat of bodily harm i make is a moot point. but hurt my brother again, and I am sure i could think of something very creative for you to endure.”

she gets up to leave but turns back. “ask him to sing you her sweet kiss. that should make everything clear, even to a man like yourself”

ciri is asleep on the cot in front of the fire when geralt gets back. jaskier is plucking mindlessly at his lute, but puts it away when geralt gets back.

“what did my sister want?”

geralt grunts but says nothing, going about getting ready for bed.

“loquacious as always my friend” but jaskier put away his lute and slipped under the covers. they’d taken to all sharing a room on the road, easiest to reach ciri if she had a nightmare and less coin spent on rooms for him and geralt.

“hmm” geralt’s questioning hum.

“yes?”

“what’s her sweet kiss?”

jaskier falters, his heartbeat increases, and geralt can hear him picking at his fingers as he does when he’s nervous.

“why are you asking me about a song i wrote? you’ve never done that, you don’t care about my songs.”

“what is it?”

but jaskier doesn’t answer. he curls up under the blankets, closes his eyes, evens his breathing. geralt could challenge him again but doesn’t. he extinguishes the candles and joins jaskier in bed, each man firmly on his side.

they don’t talk about it in the morning. jaskier is quiet as they pack. he kisses his sister goodbye, chats quickly with the household staff. then all three mount up with their full packs and new cloaks and they’re off.

geralt wants to ask again about her sweet kiss, and what vanya could have meant, but he doesn’t. saves that conversation for kher morhn. winter is long, and a mountain is as good a place as any to get something off your chest

[vadaschiquita]

Chiquita | Ch. 18

Chapter 17

It had been an agonizing game of musical chairs riddled with anxiety and unanswered questions sitting in the ER of a New Jersey hospital.  From nurses, to doctors, to social workers had accosted Nevada with questions of her whereabouts and even threatened with police involvement when he’d refused to provide the answers they sought out of him.

Nina and Jess had sat with him, receiving the news of Mariana’s reappearance from Pucho.  The both had shown up hastily, shouting his and her name to every medical personnel they managed to pass by from the second they’d entered the emergency room to the second they’d found him with his head in his hands.  Jess had asked all the hard questions firsthand, attempting to keep her voice even as she got out of Nevada what truly had happened in the confines of the storage container in order to deflect any trouble without the need of lawyer.

“You gonna stop with the fucking leg bounce, Valentina?” he scolded his sister.

Nina sighed heavily, rolling her eyes as she came to a stand.  “What the hell are they doing to her, Vada?  She’s been in there for fucking ever!” she paced in front of the row of chairs.

Nevada trailed her with his eyes, leaning back, and stretching his leg in front of him.  “Nina, you irritating my soul isn’t helping.  Stop with the fucking questions… and the pacing!” he waved his hand towards her direction when he caught sights of a doctor approaching their general direction.

Nevada stood, pulling Nina behind him as the doctor smiled, “Mariana?  Mariana Santos?”

“Yes, yes! How is she?  How’s the baby?  Can I see her?” Nevada shot in rapid fire, unable to stop when the doctor raised his hands in order to put a stop to his rambling.

“Easy, Mr. Santos,” the doctor appeased, checking the tablet in his hands.  “There’s good news and there’s bad news.  Now, I understand that she was in labor when brought in,” Nevada nodded, running his hands against his jaw at the mention of bad news.  “Giving birth is a marathon and we need mom awake and alert in order for her to push.  We considered taking her to the operating room and perform an emergency C-section, but baby was coming, and coming fast so we had to rely on medication to strengthen the contractions.  That allows the contractions to be strong enough so that the patient doesn’t have to do anything.”

“O—Ok,” Nevada stumbled, looking over his shoulder to his sister for some type of assistance.

“Is the baby safe?  Is she safe?” Nina asked, watching the helpless green in her brother’s eyes grow by the second.

“Yes, both Mariana and the baby are in good health,” the doctor smiled.

“But?” Nevada took a step forward.

“The oxytocin given to strengthen the contractions has left Mariana with an accelerated heart rate and some arrhythmias that are being monitored as we speak.  Your son has a little bit of jaundice—nothing that we're worried about—and she’s protecting her airway as she should, but due to her arrhythmias and the stress her body endured for the amount of time she was in captivity, we’ve placed her in a medical induced coma and we’ll wean off sedation once we know her heart has recuperated.  Other than that, we’ve stitched the gash at the back of her head, and we’re letting her body heal her other contusions and abrasions the natural way.”

“So—Son?” Nevada sighed, feeling his chest inflate at the thought of someone continuing his namesake to the world.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the doctor looked between Jess, Nina, and the appalled man in front of him.  “I—I thought you knew the gender of the baby before—”

“No, no; we wanted to find out whenever they were born,” he chuckled, feeling his elation travel through his body.  “Can—Can I see her?  Please, doctor, I need to see my Chiquita—and my papito.  Where—Where is he?”

The doctor smiled, cocking his head in the direction he’d emerged from, “Your son is currently in the NICU under bili-lights for his jaundice, but I can arrange for him to be brought to Mariana’s room so that the three of you can be together.”

Nevada nodded, falling into step with the doctor as they approached the ICU room where they’d placed Mariana.

Mariana’s doctor had done well by his training, keeping idle conversation as they accessed the main hospital through the emergency department, but Nevada had only heard some of it and answered to ten percent of what he’d heard.  His mind was still crowded with the sounds of her cries as Ricky choked the near life out of her, the muddled sound her skull made against the concrete floor of the storage unit, and the whisper of his name from her lips when she’d finally noticed that he was real and there to not bring harm upon her.

If he needed to go home and return later on to Mariana’s room, he wouldn’t know the way to her.  

He couldn’t stop thinking of the thousands of ways he’d failed her during her pregnancy, during her captivity, and how much he was failing her now.  He knew nothing of being a father to a child, a child he did not want to raise without her.  

The needs of a newborn were different to the ones of a toddler and child.  

What little experience he had with children came from his ability of having cared for Sofía from a young age.  He never kept her when she needed her mother at every turn, but once Sofía had been able to walk, to talk her way into basic needs, had been when he’d trusted himself to do more than just a prolonged visit to his sister’s place.

The severity of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders, not only did he needed to care for a slightly vegetative Mariana, but now he had to care for a newborn that wouldn’t know his mother until the sedation could be weaned off.

“You’re free to go in and visit for as long as you please, Mr. Santos.  I’ll make sure to speak with NICU nurses to bring by your son sooner rather than later.”

Nevada looked up at the doctor and extended his hand to him, shaking it for good measure.  He’d never been one to engage in such… pleasantries, but there was no other way he could express the gratitude he had for him and his team in the roles played in Mariana’s safety and in the delivery of their son.

He entered the room slowly, hearing the soft air release the breathing machine produced indicative of Mariana’s in and outtake of air.  

He coughed his sob, watching the bruising across her face, vivid against her ashen skin.  Her hair and face had been cleaned of the blood, her wet clothes had most likely been tossed, and her stomach was as flat as he could remember before her pregnancy had taken over.  Her wrists were securely tied to the bed and all the lines feeding her medication, food, and monitoring her heart rate were coming out of her body at her arms, chest, nose, and neck.

Nevada stood at the foot of the bed, taking in the feeble form of his Chiquita.

“Ay, Chiquita,” he mused, approaching the bedside.  He took her hand in his, placing his lips to it multiple times, “You can't give up on me just yet, mami.  Tenemos un varoncito, Mari…”

He pressed his forehead to her knuckles, feeling the tears escape his eyes when he sniffled, raising his eyes to her face.  His knees were already protesting, but in comparison to what he knew she’d endured, slight discomfort showing his age and lack of continuous exercise were the least of his concerns.

It felt like hours of him staring at the beauty of her face even through the stains of Ricky’s work when soft cooing and an apologetic remark caught his ears.  

He sniffled, following the noise with his head when he saw the nurse hauling in an acrylic box containing a small bundle of chunky joy.  He stood, placing one more kiss on Mariana’s hand as an added bonus.

The nurse accommodated the acrylic box next to Mariana’s bed away from the IV pumps and other staff’s general way.  She opened the side door, reaching inside for the baby to wrap him in the bili-blanket to maximize the results of the phototherapy.

“He already breastfed before we started her medications and he had his first bowels, so, little man is doing really great,” she turned, smiling at the stirring child in her arms.  “We let them have skin-on-skin contact for about an hour, hence the reason it took us so long to come fetch you.”

He let go of a long breath of air unaware of its presence when the nurse placed his son in his arms.  He hummed, watching the beautiful contours of his son’s face.  He saw resemblances of Mariana’s features staring back at him: from the color of his skin, to the pout of his lips.  Mesmerized by the beauty of his son, he almost missed the tap on his shoulder from the nurse offering him a comfortable chair so that he could sit and continue admiring the beautiful thing he’d helped bring to life.

“Por poco me matas, papito,” he mused, scoffing airily.

He smiled at his newborn son, running his thumb over the smooth flesh of his cheek.  The baby stirred, scrunching his face, and sneezing consecutively.

“Dios te bendiga,” he smiled, leaning forward to press his lips against his forehead.  He murmured his love for him, nuzzling his nose to the baby’s forehead, whispering a prayer over his son.

Nevada had never pegged himself a religious man, but more of a spiritual one.  He respected the teachings of the Church, the ones instilled in him as a young boy by his mother.  He proudly wore the gold cross gifted to him on the day of his thirteen birthday and whenever he played with lives too closely, forgot the teachings that his mother worked day and night for him to remember, he took time away on his knees, asking for forgiveness, and a little more clarity.

He knew the life he led was not ideal, but it had been fruitful.  

It’d help him provide for his family, not only his sister, but his extended family in the Dominican Republic.  And, now, with his son in his hands, and his Chiquita lying next to him, he knew that now more than ever, the need to work his ass off would quadruple and intensify.

The tip of the iceberg was what she knew—what everyone knew, but Nevada’s operation and connections ran deeper than that.  Two people in his entire operation knew how deep his hooks were in the city, the two people he trusted with his life, and the two people he would trust with their lives from now on.  

He’d made the mistake of not listening to her, of not allowing her to call her shots knowing that in the deepest existence of her body, all bells and whistles were going off when it came to Dylan Perrot, and that because of his mistake, he’d almost lost the love of his life without the chance of admitting his undying love for her.  In consequence, he’d endangered the life of his then unborn child… deliberately!  And for that, he’d never forgive himself.

Ten days it had been since the fateful night of the rescue and almost suicidal mission in Union City.  

Nevada had set up camp in a hotel a couple of blocks from the hospital.  He was there from the minute visitation started to the second it ended.  

The nurses knew when he was coming, they knew the way he wanted things, how he wanted things, and they knew that if he saw something out of line, something that was out of place, the never ending tongue lashings would be the best part of their shifts.

They had a schedule set, one that for the last ten days everyone had abided to.  

As soon as visiting hours started, Nevada would stroll in, without a word to anyone, and plant himself at Mariana’s bedside.  Once the nurse noticed his presence in her room, they’d go in, let him know of the findings and progress, and confirm her nightly bath.  If for any reason, the bath had not been completed, they’d assure him that it was the first thing on their to-do list once medication had been administered.  

Minutes later, they’d roll the baby in and a breastfeeding nurse would help him latch against Mariana.  All of the medication given had been cleared and safe for lactation, and once he was done, Nevada would burp him, and allow for skin-on-skin contact with his mother even if Mariana’s body remained unconscious.

She’d been free of sedation for six days, her body having flushed out all remaining harmful additives to her milk, and though still intubated, her reflexes and neurological responses were great, she just needed to wake up.

During quiet time, and after his feeding, they would take the baby back to the NICU.  He’d been off the bili-lamps and blanket, but remained under observation for slight elevation of heart rate.  Even though, hospital policy was for no visitors during quiet time, the nurses at the ICU where Mariana lain, allowed him to stay.  He was never a bother and he never disrupted their workload.

“Chiquita,” he rasped, her hand in his.  “Chiquita, stop being so fucking stubborn and open your eyes,” he scoffed ruefully, placing his lips to her knuckles.  “Papito needs you, I—” he stopped; feeling the way his heart hanged on by a thread at the thought of losing Mariana.

He squeezed her hand in his, groaning softly to prevent his sob to fill the room.  “I—” he sniffled, shaking his head.

He stood, lowering the bedside rail in order to hover over the still body of hers.  He pressed his lips to her temple, tipping his chin to press his forehead to the side of her head.  If he wanted her to wake up, then he’d coax her back to life.  He would speak the unspoken words that threatened each and every second to come out of his mouth by the mere thought of her existence.  He’d say the words like a prayer, a contract devoid of annulment until he’d gotten what he’d come looking for the past nine days: her eyes.

“I need you, Mari,” he whispered against her face.  “Te amo, Chiquita.  Te amo tanto…”

He sighed, pressing his lips to her brow, lingering at the spot until he felt her quiet stirring.

For her, it was like a large tunnel filled with echo.  She heard the words he’d whisper to her every day, she heard the plight of his voice, and she heard the cry of her child.  Now, she couldn’t discern what was real and what wasn’t, but the ache and discomfort she felt constricting her throat caused her eyes to shot open.

Nevada took a step back, “Mari, Mari—”

A cough broke through her, the vein in the middle of her forehead prominent with stress.  The breathing machine had begun blinking red, making the most harrowing sound that filled the room.  She attempted to raise her hands, but they’d been restrained as a precaution to prevent what could’ve happened had her hands been free of them.

The nurses were quick to enter the room. “What's going on here?” one of them asked with a small smile.

“I—” Nevada stumbled with his words, glancing at Mariana struggling to catch her breath.

Mariana continued coughing, her eyes bulging out of their sockets as she struggled to catch her breath.  Nevada stood to the side and watched, listening to how the nurses were begging her to relax and take it easy.

“We’re going to have to give an Ativan bolus,” the nurse said, looking over her shoulder to one of her coworkers.

Nevada sprung into action, “No!  No!  Let me try something.”

The nurses paused, stepping back quickly to allow Nevada to stand besides Mariana.  

Mariana was frantically scanning the room; only able to see the blurry, jumbled mess in front of her.  She couldn’t focus her eyesight on anything concrete.  The nurse’s face was unclear and she couldn’t hear over the blood rushing through her ears.  She was tugging at her restraints when one of her hands was finally freed from them, but it’d been stopped mid air by a pair of hands she thought she recognized.  She moved her head as carefully as possible, attempting to not stir further the discomfort in her throat.

“Mari, mami,” Nevada cooed, stepping closer to the bed to be in her line of sight.  “Chiquita, you—you’re at the hospital. You have a tube down your throat that’s helping you breathe, mami, pero you can’t pull it off.  I—I know, I know you want your hands free, but you have to promise me you’ll calm down, ok?”

The breathing machine lagged in its response, but it stopped its noise, just like the heart monitoring machine stopped its chirping.  The room became quieter; the only sounds now were the low murmuring of the nursing team, and Nevada’s heartbeat in his ears.

Mariana’s vision still hadn’t clear.  Not even after the fluttering blinking from her part.  She squeezed Nevada’s hand as he brought it to his mouth to place a kiss to her fingers.  She opened her hand, spreading her fingers along his jaw, flexing them to scratch at his beard.  He hummed, closing his eyes, and enjoying the feel of her hands against his face.

Her eyes watered because even though she could not see him well enough, she still knew it was he.  She would always know it was he.

A nurse placed her hand on his shoulder and he turned his head, “We’ve paged the doctor to see if we can get that tube out in the next couple of hours.  Keep her calm and with company, ok?”

Nevada nodded, turning to grab in both of his hands one of hers.  “Ay, mi Chiquita,” he breathed out.

A couple of hours indeed had gone by and Nevada decided to keep busy on the other side of the hospital where the NICU took place.  They’d kicked him out, respectfully so, and not being able to sit on his ass quietly for more than a few minutes at a time, he’d busied his time in visiting his son over in the NICU, and allowing Nina to sit with them as well.

Nevada had returned and was now sitting across a very animated Mariana bickering her way with a doctor.

“That’s still not answering the question of my supply, doctor.  Am I going to be able to breastfeed with this medication in my body?”

She sounded a little hoarse, but her… gumption and bravado seemed intact.  “Yes, Miss Santos.  We actually recommend labetalol for postpartum complications.  You wouldn’t be the first nor the last of my patients who’s suffered some mild complication… that isn’t easily fixed,” the doctor said with a smile.

Mariana sighed, leaning back against the elevated headrest, giving a nod and a shy smile.  “When can I eat?  And, I mean, real food.”

The doctor nodded, “Unfortunately, due to the stress the tube puts on your throat, we want to make sure you heal for at least twenty-four hours before you can eat or drink anything.  We are keeping the feeding tube until tomorrow, so we won’t completely starve you.”

“And, my vision?”

The doctor nodded and offered an apologetic smile.  “I understand that it’s been blurry since you woke, but that your left eye is back to normal, now?” Mariana nodded, fidgeting with her flat sheet.  The doctor sighed, tucking his arms in his white coat pockets, “There’s really nothing we can do about that, Miss Santos.  You suffered a concussion to the occipital region of your brain on the left side, which figures why your right eye is still struggling to catch up. You just have to relax and let your body do its job.”

Mariana nodded and had resulted to silence when Nevada piped up, “How long?”

“Anywhere from a couple of days to a couple of weeks.  We really do not know,” he offered simply.

“When can I—” Mariana’s musings had been put to a stop when the NICU nurse walked, rolling a fussy newborn baby in.

Nevada placed his coffee cup on the rolling tray lodged between Mariana’s bed and the chair as he stood, approaching the shrieking baby.  He thanked the nurse just as the doctor excused his self.  He bounced his knees, shushing his son lovingly, and placing a kiss to the baby’s cheek.

“Ready to meet our son?” Nevada asked with a smirk.

“Son?” Mariana said in a low gasp.  “Ian…”

“Matías Alexander Ramirez,” Nevada corrected.  “Meet the most incredible woman you’ll ever meet,” he finished, handing Mariana their son.

Mariana stretched her neck, waiting for Nevada’s impending kiss upon her lips.  As soon as skin-to-skin contact had been made, Matías sighed, opening his beautiful eyes to search his mother’s face.  

Mariana lowered the hospital gown at her shoulders.  “He prefers the right one,” Nevada said with a wink.

“Nevada,” Mariana warned, adjusting the baby to suckle with the nurse’s help and guidance.

Once Matías latched, Mariana sighed, feeling tears spring into her eyes.  She listened to the suckling noises he made, running her free hand through the soft jet strands on the baby’s head.  She saw as her teardrop startled Matías and she chuckled ruefully, wiping away the tear from his face.

“Seven pounds, thirteen ounces, and twenty inches of pure Ramirez,” Nevada gloated, sitting down on the recliner that had become his home throughout Mariana and Matías’ hospital stay.  Mariana smacked her teeth, unable to contain her happiness as she looked at him.  “I told you he likes the right one.”

“You would know,” she bit her lip, turning to face her child once more.  “Vada… ¡mira qué hermoso!”

“Tiene a quién salir,” he finished, tipping his chin in the air causing Mariana to giggle softly.

She was mesmerized by the beauty and easiness of the baby’s face.  What once seemed like a dream, something she’d thought she could have, but after having faced Ricky’s abuse had been torn from her life, seeing the miracle that was her son in her arms had made her particularly emotional.  It could’ve also been the fact that for a month, the uncertainty that clouded her mind every day on whether or not she would see this pregnancy through, or worst, the thought of her never getting the chance to meet her son, had her sitting with airs of elation.

She’d made good on the promise she’d made to her child: Nevada would get them out of there and they would be together once more.

She sighed, all love-filled, and she raised her elbow, allowing for greater reach and to place her lips upon Matías’ relaxed brow.

He was suckling contently, the veiny, thin flesh of his hooded lids protecting the beautiful shine of his eyes.  His tiny fists were tucked under his chin, yet it was the steady beating of his heart that most excited Mariana.  Being able to hold her child in her arms for the first time, to provide him that comfort, had her floating on cloud nine.

She turned towards Nevada with a smile, “What happened to Ian?  I thought we were set on Ian as a name.”

Nevada smirked, basking in her happiness.  “He was named Ian… for about two hours,” he smirked, biting his lip.  “Then, I stared at him, and he didn’t look like a Ian Ramirez, but Matías…” he clicked his tongue.  “Matías Ramirez es un hombre de palabra y autoridad… como su papá,” he finished with a wink.

Mariana shook her head, glancing down at Matías as he elicited a soft coo.  “Why Matías?” she asked, smiling down at her newborn.

“Gift of God,” Nevada looked at Mariana, thoroughly in love with her.  “Just like his mother.”

Mariana bit her lip, giving her newborn once more all the attention she harbored.

Nevada hummed; engulfed in all the love he had for the both of them.  “Chiquita,” he called out for her hearing her hum.  “Mírame,” he asked of her and once she smiled at him he admitted his love for her: “Te amo.”

Mariana’s smile grew on her face, biting her lip furtively, “Te amo, más, papi.”

tags: @bananas-pajamas​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @imjustreallynosy​ @katierpblogg​ @angelicdestieldemon​

[ailinaline]

The Untamed: unsorted

Well... I am nothing, if not eccentric, after all. Why not publish a huge post all of a sudden? :)

The Untamed (СQL) is an abyss, and I am still falling, grasping at some scattered thoughts... that tend to arrange themselves in equally chaotic blocks of thoughts, which, in turn, multiply questions successfully.

Spoilers ahead, I guess...

I.

The timeline of СQL is more than a little blurry, and when I try to calculate, how old Wei Ying was, when he died, I come up with the sorrowful conclusion he couldn’t be more that 21, probably younger. Which, in turn, means that the post-time-skip Sizhui is, actually, of the same age or even older than Wei Ying and Lan Wangji were, when they did a lot of things I honestly can’t imagine the new generation pulling off, even physically/magically, let alone psychologically (although I wouldn’t go as far as to call young LWJ and WWX mature - they clearly were not, and that was a huge part of the tragedy foundation, in my opinion). The young disciples are referred to as ‘children’, and they truly are. Compared to 16-17 year old LWJ and WWX, they are very, very young, inexperienced and not especially capable – while still being quite skilled and smart. And it’s both fabulous and painful to watch. Fabulous because it’s a very vivid and authentic demonstration of how exceptionally gifted LWJ and WWX are (and were); and painful because, unfortunately, not all of their greatness comes just from inborn talents.

II.

I am easily charmed by languages, but СQL, being the third Chinese dorama I have ever watched, is still the first one to so profusely tempt me to learn Chinese – in order to translate the songs and to understand the subtleties of the dialogues.

III.

I can’t get rid of the impression that the concept of rules/order breaking and punishment/atonement is fundamental for СQL (and its world). As far as I am aware, the Chinese culture does tend to be quite severe in this regard, but right now I am considering the symbolic layer of the process rather than the harm/good/efficiency of any particular method.  And I wonder, whether I am imagining things or Wangji’s history of ‘transgressions’ and punishments within his sect is really openly symbolic and not merely coincidental.

My interpretation certainly lacks some special cultural insight because I can’t help being of European origin, so I read all the codes as a European would, first, and only then make an attempt to switch lenses and decipher the message, taking into account my scarce knowledge of the Chinese (and Asian) culture.

And yet...

The first time (drinking) Wangji is not only completely innocent, but also a ‘victim’ of Wei Ying’s careless (and questionable) mischief. They share the punishment (and we encounter the number 300, by the way), but Wangji is obviously (and rather fiercely) on his own here, and evidently by choice, despite Wei Ying’s sincere efforts first to exclude and then to include him. Wangji, just as obviously, truly believes he deserves the punishment – not for drinking as such, I think, but for lowering his guard and being not attentive enough: internally, he substitutes one transgression with another, and the equation works for him (actually, it might be unfair, but quite fortunate for their future relationship that Wangji blames himself or, at least, blames himself more than Wei Ying). To put it in a nutshell, for Wangji, the system and order are intact and non-contradictory: he is understandably upset, even angry, but hardly shaken, and simply intends to do better than that in the future, so to say. It’s hard to speculate, if this is Wangji’s most unpleasant experience so far or not, but in any case, the psychological pressure is minimal and reproach is rather mild (and I am really surprised, Lan Xichen didn’t find all that story highly suspicious… or was it his indirect method of showing WWX that he hadn’t been told on?..)

The copying of the rules happens after a considerable amount of… experience, if not time. And the transgression is not specified, but hinted at very heavily. I also wonder, if Lan Qiren realized an additional message he conveyed through his choice as well as through his general treatment of his nephew during that meeting: a strict reminder that, a war hero or not, LWJ is still too young to have an opinion. Wangji accepts the book of rules reverently, accepts the punishment… the word, that springs to mind is ‘habitually’: he doesn’t disregard it, per se, he doesn’t devalue the fact his uncle is not happy with him, he still wants to do better, but… there are things of greater importance to him now, and LWJ is so focused on them that he makes the request about the restricted books at the least suitable moment, really. (And I believe this dismissal does cut him rather deep.) The system still works, but the seed of the conflict is already planted.

The third episode seems pivotal in itself: we actually don’t know, what the punishment for letting WWX and the Wens go was, except for having to kneel, while being lectured, but this time this is a result of a conscious choice to do something that definitely wouldn’t be approved. And I can’t remember a single second of the screen-time, when Wangji would look repentant: conflicted, upset, slapped (when Lan Qiren mentions his mother), stressed (his uncle uses some pretty cruel techniques that border on manipulation, to my mind), but not sorry at all – not for letting the fugitives go, at least.  And comparing the shades of Wangji’s silence here and on the previous occasion, this one seems somehow more determined. And closed-off. And there is no intention to do better, in regard to this transgression: the alternative he is being pushed to is unacceptable.

Kneeling again, for the whole day, in the cold, lifting a… what is it, as a matter of fact? It does look like a slightly smaller version of ‘the discipline whip’ we’ll see later, and if it is really so, then it’s beyond prophetic symbolic – it looks more like a promise on Lan Qiren’s part. :/ Anyway, my impression is that, for the first time in the series, LWJ is actively absent from the scene of his own punishment: he doesn’t reflect on it (I think he expected something like that), he also doesn’t mentally substitute one transgression with another to restore the balance (his inability to help Wei Ying is not something to atone for by kneeling). He simply endures. And thinks. And feels. Just not what he is expected and obliged to be thinking and feeling at the moment. And through all of this, Wangji is utterly, hopelessly and stoically alone and unaccepted. His concerns have been dismissed and care rejected by Wei Ying. His actions and decisions have been castigated by a significant authority figure (whom he loves and respects). If I am not mistaken, in the special edition Wangji’s loss-and-loneliness are somewhat artificially heightened through the pseudo-contrast because his moments are mixed with the moments of Wei Ying’s drinking with his new family, who values and appreciates him. (In reality their situations are just the same: they are both in anguish and feel helpless to change things they wish to change.) And, a cherry on top: we don’t know, what has been said initially, and by whom, however, we see that Wangji is released not by his uncle, but by some adept (or disciple). It might be a normal procedure, but it completes the picture of being unequivocally separated from any supportive figure and hints at a lack of closure, in a way, as there was no forgivenes-and-reconnection after the punishment.  

I am struggling to verbalize, why exactly, but to me, this scene is, in a sense, more bitter than the next one, despite the circumstances.

During the next punishment Wangji is as actively present as he was absent during the previous one. And if then he was frozen in sadness, now he is all fire (fueled by grief, and guilt, and fury, and despair, yes, but fire, nonetheless). And the system and order get burned down: what Wangji re-builds during his seclusion is his very own set of rules. They do coincide with the Gusu Lan set, but not fully. And this is a point of no return because, filtered through Wangji’s own system of values, now they are more than just the elders’ lessons learned and tested – they are the only valid reference point for recognizing transgressions and ‘living with no regrets’.

(On another level, I am more than a little puzzled by several details here:

1) linguistics: do they really call this thing a discipline ‘whip’ in Chinese?

2) cultural message: as literally nothing could get in the way of filming a beating with an actual whip, the type of instrument has to make some sense, doesn’t it? (For now, I can’t think of any reason to choose this tool, though. Except the number 300 as 300 lashes are hardly survivable, even with a golden core.)

3) application: I can understand, why Wangji has his shirt on (although this is a more dangerous and torturous option: such a thin layer is no protection at all, but it will be hell to clean the wounds afterwards), but why is his hair down his back like that?..

4) consequences: the scarring looks rather odd, considering. (And again: it was definitely not a problem to paint whatever they had to, so – why?)

The only (and vague) explanation I can come up with is that the type and form of the tool is not important at all: it’s the intent and sentence that count, so the wounds and pain would be the same, even if the instrument looked like a rod or a cane. (Still doesn’t explain the hair, though.) And as for the scars, perhaps, not all of them have to stay forever, especially if the cultivator is very strong.

Well, no: unsatisfactory...)

IV.

I wonder... My first impression after watching the scene, where Lan Wangji cuts off Jin Guangyao’s  arm, was that he was actually saving him from Baxia, separating Guangyao from the mark on his hand. And the only reason, why the spirit of the sword attacks Jin Ling next, are the drops of the bad/damned blood on the boy’s shoulder. But after the special edition I am not so sure.

V.

Lacunae and plotholes (or what I subjectively perceive as such) are extremely challenging and thought-provoking in this series. Right now, I wonder about the Wens: Wen Qing clearly stated she had asked one of the clansmen to look after WWX, so not all of them were going to surrender. Could it be that they were attacked at the Burial Mounds, when seeing the siblings off, and taken away by force?

...Enough. For now.

[eggoreviews]

12 ‘Unpopular’ Viddy Game Opinions

I’ve seen this topic floating around a lot, but didn’t think I had enough ‘unpopular but maybe not’ opinions about games to make a post. Turns out I do! So if you see this and I say something blasphemous, remember it’s just my opinion and my personal experiences with the games I list. Hope you enjoy or hey, maybe even agree with some of this!

Note: Can’t stress enough. This is just me. Also, spoilers under the cut!

12. The opening of Kingdom Hearts II isn’t as terrible as everyone says

Okay, so it’s not brilliant, but at the same time, I don’t think it’s the worst. For those not in the know, KH2′s opening is a basically a massive slog where you play as a character you don’t know or care about with seemingly no real link to the events of the previous game. The general consensus is that there’s some interesting stuff in here, but it’s buried among endless dialogue that really doesn’t mean much. And they’re right, but I really think there’s some great stuff here that people tend to gloss over. The music and the motif of Twilight Town is atmospheric, there’s some genuinely intriguing plot elements that are woven into Roxas’ story and believe it or not, the stuff that happens here is intrinsic to the rest of the game. So yeah, it drags on a little, but I don’t think KH2 would be miles better without this opening.

11. I loved Breath of the Wild’s final boss

One of the problems I see talked about with Breath of the Wild is that the boss fights are fairly mediocre, especially the very last one, Dark Beast Ganon. And I couldn’t disagree more. I think every boss in the game is wonderfully crafted, intense, challenging and great for testing you on what you’ve learned throughout the game by encouraging you to make creative use of your slate powers and the flurry rush technique. And while Mr. Pig Man at the end here is sort of easy and short, it serves as a brilliantly epic finale to damn near perfect game. While the difficulty is mostly gone after the mammoth fight with Calamity Ganon, it’s still just as intense as you frantically fire off arrows into the massive beast in front of you. Plus, the design of this thing is one of the best looking monsters in the game, so I really don’t understand the dislike for this ending.

10. I really like Crash of the Titans

Okay, so maybe childhood nostalgia has something to do with this pick, but every Crash fan I’m aware of seems to hate this game. But I don’t really know where the hate comes from! I played the PS2 version of this and I thought it was a genuinely fun 3D platformer with a variety of locations, good visuals, well-designed boss battles and even a vague story you can sort of follow! The game’s main gameplay feature is also brilliantly integrated, as using Aku Aku to possess various monsters throughout the game keeps everything interesting. One thing I will say though, that tiger dude you have to fight about halfway through is the most annoying thing I’ve ever had to endure in a game.

9. Life Is Strange: Before the Storm is BAD

I loved Life Is Strange when it first dropped, so I was beyond excited when they announced a prequel from Chloe’s perspective. But I really think they dropped the ball and they dropped it hard. But everyone else seems to adore this game! For me, this wasn’t a touch on the original. For a start, they dropped out one of the main mechanics of the first game, the time travel, which they then replaced with a much less interesting ‘Backtalk’ feature, which was then only used about twice throughout the game. Instead of interesting, developed characters reacting to genuinely dangerous or heartfelt situations, it felt to me like a bunch of one-dimensional teenagers who are edgy for the sake of being edgy. Chloe spends the majority of the game being a dick to her mother and bunking off class to spend time with Rachel, who she has literally known for like a day and their sudden relationship drops out of nowhere. Not that I didn’t enjoy the emotional moments of their relationship, it just didn’t feel like it stemmed from anywhere, unlike Max and Chloe from the first game. And the game’s attempts at villains were also rubbish compared to the first, with Damien (random scary knife guy who doesn’t really tie into the plot that much) and Eliot (who doesn’t appear for the whole game and suddenly goes full incel on Chloe when she breaks into Rachel’s house). Yeah I think you can tell I had some problems with this one.

8. Dishonored: Death of the Outsider was also a hot mess

I LOVE the Dishonored series. The first game and its DLCs are amazing, the second game was arguably even better. And then this happened. In this one, you play as Billie Lurk, a character I love, and Daud comes back, a character I also love. But both of them are incredibly badly written and it doesn’t feel like there’s any development to them or even much reason for them to do what they’re doing. This entry took the mystery surrounding the Outsider and basically did a big poo on it, giving us the revelation that he was apparently HUMAN this whole time. I think that was the nail in the coffin that made me sort of think this was a bit rubbish. While the combat and side missions were as brilliant as ever, the level designs felt less creative than other entries in the series and lacked variety or colour, all the side characters were entirely forgettable and to wrap it all up, they killed Daud offscreen. Out of nowhere, they just killed him, mentioned it offhand in a cutscene and that was that. If you like this game, fair enough, but it kind of baffles me that more people don’t see this in the game.

7. Mario Galaxy 2 is good. It’s just sort of good

Some people cite this as being one of the best 3D platformers of all time, and that’s fair enough, but I just kind of see this one as ‘good’. Sure, it has a good, satisfying control scheme for the most part, the level design is creative and the bosses and puzzles are pretty standard for a Mario title, but still enjoyable. However, sometimes, the floaty physics and weird knockback effect from jumping into walls led to quite a lot of unfair deaths, especially if I’d been punished for messing up already by losing a life, only to then immediately be punished again by falling into the void. Plus, I found Yoshi near impossible to control at some points with the motion controls. So yeah, this one is genuinely enjoyable, but I don’t think I’d personally put it with the best of all time.

6. I LOVE Dragon Quest IX TO DEATH

This is a game in a legendary franchise that consistently almost always see ranked at the very bottom of the pile in the series. But I really don’t understand how or why. Okay so your protagonist and party are basically silent and don’t have a lot of character, but I don’t see this as a reason to totally write off the game! The side characters, villains and story are all amazing and well-developed, the world is huge, colourful and interesting, the monsters are brilliantly creative and Dragon Quest’s signature lame sense of humour is gratefully carried through the whole game. The music is always brilliant and atmospheric and the bosses are just as memorable as each character you meet. What was everyone’s problem?? This is genuinely one of the best RPGs I’ve ever played and if you haven’t had a chance to pick it up, it is so, so worth it.

5. Sonic Adventure is a broken mess

So before I kick this one off, I’m not someone who hates Sonic and I’m not here to slate the whole franchise, but considering this game is often considered to be one of the best in the series, I thought it was definitely worth addressing. When I first played this, I literally couldn’t believe this was made in 1998, AFTER Mario 64 and yet it’s so broken! The physics and control scheme are totally wonky and hard to control, the unending amount of glitches make a fair amount of the stages almost unplayable, the voice acting and facial animation is cringey and oddly broken and yet, this was all on the Dreamcast. The most powerful console of the time. And I don’t think I even need to mention how boring some of the later stages get, with Big the Cat’s fishing section being the main offender. I can’t vouch for Adventure 2 as I haven’t had a chance to play yet, but I really hope it isn’t like this.

4. Dragon Age Origins is the best Dragon Age

Dragon Age has always been a popular RPG series, but I think it properly shot to fame once Inquisition dropped in 2014. And don’t get me wrong, I liked Inquisition! The world was colourful and expansive and the characters were fairly memorable, but I still think the best experience you can get is in the series’ first entry, Origins. While it’s pretty easy to see that it’s slightly dated considering it’s ten years old now, the best characters and story in the series I think is here. Each companion you recruit is varied and developed and the story wraps up brilliantly in the end with each companion and army you meet playing a different role in the final battle. Plus, I kind of can’t forgive Inquisition for making Leliana lose her sense of humour and making her kinda boring.

3. Oblivion is better than Skyrim

Okay so I’m not sure exactly how unpopular this is, but I just thought Oblivion was miles better than Skyrim ended up being. Just to clear it up, I still love Skyrim and I thought it built on the series’ combat system and variety of enemies really well and still provided an enjoyable experience. But Oblivion feels like more of an adventure you feel at home in. The story is dense and full of twists and turns. The soundtrack has some of the most atmospheric music I’ve ever heard, the world is full of bright colours, each city is vastly different and has its own lore and I found some of this to be absent from Skyrim. I’d go into more detail, but I think the simple fact is that Oblivion had so much more I liked than Skyrim.

2. I don’t think The Witcher III is all that amazing (in some regards)

This by no means says that I don’t like the game, because I do, but I think it has more flaws than people let on. Now, don’t get me wrong, a lot of the stuff people praise about this game is true, the quests are in-depth and masterfully crafted, the characters, especially Geralt, are extremely memorable. In fact, Geralt is one of my favourite game protagonists. But most of the problems I had were in terms of the gameplay. The combat, while fast-paced and satisfying, can sometimes feel a little finicky, so a lot of precision is needed. However, I felt that the world itself didn’t particularly interest me and the music is often ambient but outside of combat, isn’t anything special. Mostly though, the leveling system I found to be a bit wonky. I did absolutely everything I could in the first area of the game; all the side quests, treasure hunts, killed a whole bunch of monsters etc. And then I arrive in the second area and find I’m too underleveled to do literally anything. The majority of the quests have too high a level cap, a lot of the monsters kill me very quickly. And because the bulk of EXP farming is in the quests, I’m sort of stuck in an endless loop of constantly not being strong enough to do anything. On top of that, all my equipment keeps breaking and I’m finding that repair kits are extremely few and far between and that makes me even WEAKER. It’s something I’m gonna need to persevere with I think, but hey, this is just my experience with it.

1. Ocarina of Time, as amazing as it is, may have overstayed its welcome as best game of all time

I reckon this might be the most controversial, so it’s number 1. Let me preface this by saying I really like Ocarina and I agree that it was innovative for the RPG genre at the time. There’s a hell of a lot in this game that we have to thank for the games we have today. But considering how far the gaming industry has come since then and the sheer amount of high quality games we’ve been getting year after year, is still fair to call this the best game ever? When more recent games have taken what Ocarina started and built upon it? Games like Breath of the Wild, Horizon Zero Dawn, Red Dead Redemption II, God of War all gave us expansive, beautiful worlds and a story you can really get stuck into. And all the time, more and more games of this caliber are coming out. So yes, of course Ocarina of Time deserves a place in the hall of fame, it was revolutionary and still holds up really well today! I just can’t help but think there have been plenty of games since then, as flawed as some of them may be, that have improved upon the formula tenfold since Ocarina’s release.

Thanks for reading if you got this far! Just to reiterate, these are all just my opinions and my experiences with the games I mentioned, so pls don’t attack me. Got any viddy game opinions you think are sort of not popular? Drop them down below if you feel like it!

[nolimitsongrace]

November 7: Prepared and Forewarned by the Spirit of God

Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison…. — Revelation 2:10

God loves you so much that if you will listen to His Spirit, He will forewarn and prepare you for things to come — whatever it is that you are to face. A perfect example of this forewarning and preparing is found in Revelation 2:10, where Jesus said, “Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried.…”

At the time that Jesus spoke these words, He was speaking to the church at Smyrna, who was suffering great persecution. He was forewarning them so they would be prepared by knowing that some of them are going to be put into prison and tried. Rather than let this event take them by surprise, Christ wanted them to know in advance, so He lovingly informed them of what the future held.

*[If you started reading this from your email, begin reading here.]

Being put in prison is a harrowing ordeal under any circumstance. But to be thrown into a Roman prison was a horrid prospect to contemplate. Thus, with great love, Christ forewarned the church of Smyrna that the devil was going to use this experience to test the commitment and steadfastness of their faith.

The word “tried” is the Greek word peiradzo, which describes a calculated test deliberately designed to expose any deficiency. By using this word, Jesus made it clear that the hardships these Christians would endure were intended to test them to see if their faith was genuine. They had confessed Jesus as Lord, and soon Satan would “try” them to discover if their commitment to Christ’s Lordship was truly sincere. Just as the devil tempted Jesus in the wilderness (see Matthew 4:1-11; Luke 4:1-13), the enemy was now preparing to tempt these believers with persecutions beyond anything they had ever endured or imagined.

Believers throughout the Roman Empire were undergoing persecution as well. When the apostle Peter wrote to the believers in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, he referred to the fiery trials that were testing their faith: “That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:7).

Both Scripture and experience confirm that a faith declaration often triggers a devilish attack. Satan’s purpose was to test the sincerity of these believers’ faith to see if they would break under pressure. Therefore, Christ warned the church that these present and imminent attacks would verify whether or not they were really committed to the faith they had publicly declared. If there was any deficiency in their faith, those fiery trials would expose it, for the devil would design this calculated test to break them. Some would succumb to his attacks and recant their faith — but the majority of those who were to be “tried” would endure and prove themselves faithful, even unto death.

Jesus had more to say about what was to come: “Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried; and ye shall have tribulation…” (Revelation 2:10).

The word “tribulation” reveals how intense these fires of testing would be. It is the Greek word thlipsis. The word thlipsis conveys the idea of a burden that is crushing, debilitating, or overpowering. Most often, the word thlipsis was used in connection with displays of extreme hostility or torture. Christ used the word to forecast a time of distress, oppression, pressure, and stress. This word “tribulation” may be understood as a clarification of the word “tried.” The tests the church of Smyrna was about to endure would be crushing, debilitating, and overpowering, resulting in great distress, oppression, pressure, and stress.

It is interesting that although Christ told these believers, “Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer…,” He didn’t hesitate to tell them that very difficult times awaited them. Jesus knew that Satan was about to unleash a horrendous onslaught against these believers to attack their faith — but He also knew they could endure this test because their faith was indeed genuine.

Jesus then went on to promise that this time of tribulation would last only for a limited period of time. He said, “Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried; and ye shall have tribulation ten days…” (Revelation 2:10).

Jesus knew that the intense, impending bombardment would seem unending to the congregation. So when He asserted, “…Ye shall have tribulation ten days….” The phrase “ten days” was meant to give encouragement and hope to the suffering church — letting these believers know that their hardships wouldn’t endure forever. Theologian Albert Barnes noted that the reference to “ten days” refers to “a short time; a brief period; a few days.”12 Bible scholar Henry Alford suggested, “The expression is probably used to signify a short and limited time.”13 Christ is so kind and merciful that He forewarned the believers in Smyrna of this time of persecution so they wouldn’t be taken by surprise. And as He promised, that time of tribulation did come to an end!

Hard times are inescapable in this life, but God’s power always has and always will continue to sustain those who are determined to be faithful to Him. Even if the fires of adversity rage and it seems as if they will never cease, those trials are temporary and will eventually come to an end. Almost 2,000 years of Church history have proven that the persecuted Church always comes forth purer than gold and mightier in the Spirit. The spiritual darkness may seem overpowering at times as Satan fiercely attempts to blot out the light of truth. But as John 1:5 promises, the light cannot be held perpetually under the domain of darkness. Victory belongs to those who endure to the end (see Matthew 10:22).

History bears witness that the Spirit of God always warns His people in advance when difficult times are coming. There are abundant historical records spanning the centuries that relate accounts of believers and missionaries in hostile nations throughout the world who were forewarned by the Holy Spirit of future hardships. Such divine warnings are intended to prepare believers to face the impending challenges, if they will hear and heed the voice of the Spirit.

Jesus lovingly prepared His people for the turbulent times that awaited them. It is imperative that in your time, you keep your heart open so that you can hear what the Spirit of God is saying to you about your future. There is one thing for sure: His goal is always to cause you to triumph (see 2 Corinthians 2:14). If you’ll keep your ear tuned to Him, He will be faithful by His Spirit to forewarn you and prepare you for the times to come — and then He will empower you to walk through every single situation as more than a conqueror in Him (see Romans 8:37)!

12Albert Barnes, Notes on the Bible (Blackie & Son, London, 1884-85; Reprinted by Baker Books, 1996), Revelation 2:10.

13Henry Alford, Greek Testament Critical Exegetical Commentary (Boston: Lee & Shepard, 1878), Volume IV.|

MY PRAYER FOR TODAY

Father, I thank You that Your love for the Church is so strong that You forewarn and prepare us for the days ahead. Please forgive me for the times when You tried to warn me but I didn’t listen — and help me open my heart to hear what You are saying to me now about the times to come. Regardless of what the future holds, I know that You are Lord of all and that You made me to be an overcomer. I pray for a flood of the Holy Spirit’s power to be unleashed in my life in these last days so that I will have everything I need to brave any storm and emerge victorious on the other side!

I pray this in Jesus’ name!

MY CONFESSION FOR TODAY

I confess that my spiritual ears are open and I am attuned to what the Holy Spirit is telling me about the present and the days ahead. The future will not take me by surprise, because I am listening to the Holy Spirit, and He reveals to me what I need to know. Jesus promised that the Holy Spirit would show us things to come, and I declare that my spirit is wide-awake and alert to hear the Spirit’s forecast about the future. I am filled with the Holy Spirit; therefore, He gives me all the strength and energy I need to outlast any storm the devil ever tries to send my way. With the help of the Holy Spirit, I will come out on the other side of any difficulty as an overcomer!

I declare this by faith in Jesus’ name!

QUESTIONS FOR YOU TO CONSIDER

Are you aware of any times in history when the Holy Spirit warned people in advance that difficult times were coming? Can you think of other examples in the Old or New Testament when the Spirit of God forewarned and prepared people for coming difficult times?

What is the Holy Spirit saying to you about your future? What does the Bible prophesy about believers living in the last days?

If the Holy Spirit and the Word of God speak directly about the life before you, what steps should you take to prepare for those times? What steps can be taken right now to be sure you ride through any storm victoriously?

[kiss-my-kitty]

I need help.

(I am posting here on Tumblr because my domain name expired, and my hosting account is suspended due to non-payment.)

This is, without a doubt, the hardest blog entry I’ve ever written. In this post I will reveal just how bad things are, and the depth of my failings, humiliation, shame, and despair. But I have truly hit rock bottom, and I am in desperate need of help, as well as an outlet so that I am not internalizing everything - because it has become too much to bear. The summary is: we have lost our home and just about everything we own, Alyssa and Ryan are in foster care, Daniel had a mental health breakdown and hit me (he punched me in the face, giving me a black eye swollen cheek), and we have nothing left and no money, with our only resource being our 12 year old vehicle with a nearly-empty gas tank. We need help, desperately. PLEASE HELP: my PayPal address is x@jenn.nu. * * * * *

Six years ago Daniel had to resign from his restaurant management position due to debilitating and worsening anxiety, depression, and physical fatigue, pain, and sleep disturbances.

Five years ago I lost my very well-paying job due to the company I worked for going under.

Around this time (2012) I began suffering from significant medical problems myself - multiple emergency and planned surgeries to correct a variety of life-threatening gastric issues, including twisting/strangulating intestines, perforated ulcers, strangulated hernias, and twisted ovaries due to PCOS and endometriosis. I became very ill and septic twice, nearly died, have dealt with various painful procedures as well as feeding tubes and drainage tubes, and needless to say, have spent a lot of time in the hospital.

As if all of the gastric issues and surgeries weren't enough, three years ago my lower back suddenly gave out - I deal with constant severe and unrelenting lumbar pain due to arthritis, degenerative disc disease, a torn, leaking, and bulging disc at L4, a completely degenerated disc at L5, and healed fractures at L5 and S1.

In January of 2017 I suffered a medical emergency that led to a large vertical abdominal incision, a 6-day hospital stay, and over a month during which I needed assistance just to get out of bed and go to the bathroom. I was very, very sick and weak from this surgery; and I was still weak and underweight from surgical complications that caused sepsis and organ damage in May-June 2016.

Around this time I was also taking a prescribed SSRI, Amitriptyline (also known as Elavil), to help me sleep. While it did not help with sleep, as the pain in my lower back and random bouts of abdominal pain from all of the surgeries and consequent scar tissue and adhesions woke and continues to wake me up almost every night, it ended up causing SEVERE short-term memory loss. The best way I can describe it is like this: every two to three days my short-term memories were completely wiped from my memory. On a Monday I might go grocery shopping. By Wednesday of that week I would have no recollection of shopping on Monday, or of doing anything else that day.

Our ongoing financial issues because of Daniel's health problems and mine snowballed. The short-term memory loss complicated and worsened everything.

In June of 2017, we lost our home of 10 years. We were able to put everything into storage, and we moved in temporarily with my mother and 19 year old brother in their 2-bedroom apartment while we figured out what to do next.

In August of 2017 we were accepted into a transitional living program. This entailed the five of us -- Daniel, myself, Alyssa, Ryan, as well as my 19 year old brother, who had nowhere to go because my mother was evicted from her apartment due to non-payment of rent -- living in a hotel room in a large hotel that had been converted into a transitional living program. The program was very supportive, and entailed us living there, abiding by curfew and other building rules, and working with counselors to rebuild our life. While Alyssa and Ryan went to school and various after-school programs, Daniel and I helped my brother get re-established with high school, his SSI payments, getting a state ID, etc. - all of the things that my mother should have done for him but didn't. She, meanwhile, had been hospitalized since late July due to infected and gangrenous diabetic ulcers on her feet, and blood infections stemming from those infected ulcers.

By September of 2017 Daniel and I told my mother that we were done helping her. We could barely help ourselves; but worse, she did nothing to help herself with her own financial and medical difficulties. Instead, she was dragging us down because she would create numerous disasters for herself, take no responsibility for them, and do nothing to try to improve her circumstances. She expected everyone else to do this for her - namely, Daniel and I.

Writing my mother off caused a lot of conflict and drama between her and us. In her rage and fury, she went so far as to create a lot of drama based on outrageous lies and accusations. While we tried to stay ahead of this mess by informing the staff at the transitional living program of our problems with her, her allegations and pot-stirring ended up causing us to be abruptly evicted from the program - while my brother went to stay with my mother at the hospital/long-term care facility she was in, the four of us (Daniel, myself, Alyssa, and Ryan), were literally thrown onto the streets.

We were evicted on October 2, 2017. For the next six weeks we bounced around between a friend's home, a pastor's cabin, a retreat camp, and motel rooms.

On November 20, 2017, a false allegation about us staying in a cabin with no electricity or water was made against us, and Alyssa and Ryan were removed from our custody. Currently they are staying with the family of a friend of Alyssa's. Fortunately they are with people they know, and they are still attending the same school and are still active in the same extra-curricular STEM programs as they were before.

Because of having to spend so much money to keep ourselves afloat after being evicted from the transitional living program, we fell behind on our storage unit payments. We were unable to save our belongings - we have lost everything we own, with the exception of the belongings we had with us (about a large duffel bag worth of clothing, toiletries, and personal items for each of us; along with my laptop and cameras, and most of the kids' small electronics).

Through all of this Daniel and I have done our best to try and tackle one problem at a time, to see and talk to Alyssa and Ryan as much as possible, and to desperately explore all of our options to try to rebuild. His Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI/SSI) application, which was started in April of 2014, is still at the highest level of adjudication - we are awaiting a hearing date. Meanwhile, Daniel has had several more sleep disturbances and diagnoses added, and it looks like he has a very rare disease called Neuromyotonia - basically, all of the nerves in all of his muscles are constantly firing. It's comparable to a seizure, because of the nerve overactivity. But instead of seizures, Daniel endures constant and severe muscle pain and fatigue, due to his muscles constantly spasming and mis-firing.

I am working on my own SSDI/SSI application - with the memory issues, but more significantly all of the gastric surgeries and complications, and my severe back issues, I qualify five times over for both SSDI/SSI, and because of the constant pain I am in and the resulting fatigue I deal with, there is no way I am capable of working a "traditional" job - or even work online/remotely as much as I did before. I am ashamed to admit this, but it is true.

The final blow, which is a poor choice of words, came to us on December 29th, 2017: after abruptly and inexplicably cold-turkeying his anxiety and depression medications in mid-December, after days of escalating irritation and verbal clashing between Daniel and I, he snapped and lashed out at me - literally. We were having a relatively calm verbal argument, and out of nowhere he punched me in the face. He has never laid a hand on me before. He punched me, full strength, in the face - his fist hit my right cheekbone. I had, and still have, terrible bruising and swelling. Even with layers of makeup the injury is still visible, and obvious. It has been hard to go out in public and deal with the stares and silent as well as not-silence questions and judgment, on top of everything else I am dealing with. But while I make no excuses for what Daniel did, I do understand that the severe stress he has been under (that we have both been under), combined with the mental instability caused by the sudden lack of and withdrawal from his SSRI medications, definitely played a role in him losing control.

Immediately after Daniel hit me I exited the vehicle where we had been sitting. He took off. Not knowing what to do, and afraid Daniel might do something to himself out of guilt, I called the police to report what happened, and to ask them to please find him because I was afraid for his mental well-being.

That same evening, Daniel overdosed on three medications. He researched what medications to take in order to overdose and die, and wrote a suicide note. He was barely conscious when he messaged me an apology and goodbye via Facebook Messenger. But he did answer when I called him, and after pleading from both me and my friend's husband, he gave us his location, I called 911, and he was found and taken to an emergency room. He was given charcoal to drink as well as Narcan and other medications via IV. After he was medically stabilized, he was involuntarily committed to the hospital's psychiatric ward.

This past Monday, January 8, he was discharged from the psychiatric ward, and taken directly to jail because of the domestic violence charge against him from when I called the police on December 29th.

Yesterday was the domestic violence court hearing. Because I have been in touch with Daniel since December 29th, visited him daily at the psychiatric ward, and most importantly because I have truly forgiven him for what he did and I am not angry, and he himself is guilty, remorseful, and determined to make things right for himself and more importantly for both of us, I spoke with both the domestic violence advocate assigned to him and the district attorney who brought the charges against him, and it was agreed that Daniel would plead guilty to a harassment charge. This is a lesser charge that means he will not serve jail time; but he will have to take both domestic violence and anger management classes. And, his check-ins with a psychiatrist and a psychologist will also be mandated.

Daniel and I need to rent a room somewhere in the county, at the cost of anywhere from $75 to $100 per week, in order to have something to call "ours". From there we can rebuild:I can continue to do the bit of online work I have been able to find, he can focus on his mental health recovery and working with a local retained lawyer (free, due to our limited income) to get his SSDI/SSI case pushed through, and I can also focus on finishing up my SSDI/SSI application. While Daniel has more diagnoses than I do, I have a consistent trail of doctor visits, specialist visits, hospital visits, tests, surgeries, and diagnoses going all the way back to 2009 to prove my case several times over. Daniel's medical trail is more inconsistent due to all of my emergency surgeries and hospitalizations.

* * * * *

This is my plea: we need financial help, desperately. At this point we have nothing except our vehicle, a gas tank on empty despite me using the last $4.00 I had to put one and a half gallons in it, Alyssa and Ryan in foster care, and only several duffel bags and a laptop bag of belongings.

I am begging anyone who reads this: please help us get back on our feet. Any and all PayPal donations will be used to pay as many weekly/monthly rental fees as we can to ensure a room we rent remains ours. We'll also use any donated money to fill our gas tank, and to buy as little food as possible to keep us going. PLEASE HELP: my PayPal address is x@jenn.nu.

Please know that Daniel and I have been doing everything we can to rebuild ever since we lost our home last June, but we have been hit with one financial and/or medical crisis after another - in fact, in the midst of all of this, I was hospitalized for two days in October and then had an urgent surgery to remove my remaining ovary, because it was twisting and torsing due to the presence of cysts as well as many adhesions. I know that I have asked a lot of my friends both offline and online, but please know we are desperate, without any resources, and are truly trying the best we can. At this point I don’t know what else to do. I have nowhere to go, and I can’t stay much longer where I am now. In a matter of days we will be living in our car, but with no money even for gas, let alone food or shelter. I am putting all of this out here, online, in the hope of not just asking for help, but to clear up the vagueness and silence that has taken over my social media accounts. I’m so sorry to anyone I’ve offended or upset and I promise that once we are finally back on our feet, however long that takes, I will right the wrongs I’ve committed in inadvertently with any of my friends. PLEASE HELP: my PayPal address is x@jenn.nu.

[rxbxlcaptain]

The Crystal (Acts of Intimacy #1)

Author’s Note: Here’s the first in my responses to the Nonsexual Acts of Intimacy prompts! This one was requested by @lululeite and I had a lot of fun writing it! I hope you all enjoy (Because, trust me, I’m continuing to write these prompts!) Check out this post to see what I’m working on next. 

Other stories in the series: Next Work

Prompt:  ♠: One character adjusting the other's jewelry/neck tie/ etc.

Words: 1392

AO3 / FF.net / Below the Cut!

“Your room is just down this hallway, sergeant.” Sergeant. Jyn wondered how many months it would take before she would respond to that title. Probably about the same time she finally learned her way around the maze of the ziggurats that made up the Rebel base. “Door 1015. Passcode is 2128.”

“Thank you,” Jyn told the poor ensign Draven shoved her off on after completing her enlistment process.

“Is there any other way I can assist you tonight, ma’am?” Jyn shook her head. People offering to be helpful: another thing she would never get accustomed to. “Then I’ll get back to my post. You’ll report to Senator Mothma at 0830 tomorrow. Good night, Sergeant Erso.”

Jyn watched the ensign walk away. Jyn loathed to admit it, but she wanted nothing less than to be left alone. She spent years of her life on her own, fending for herself and relying on no one, but that was before.

Before the Rebellion. Before Jedha. Before Scarif. Before the Death Star.

Less than a week had passed since the Battle of Scarif, less than a week since Alliance bombs killed her father, and the images of destruction burned in her mind.

Jedha City collapsing around her. Her father’s body, broken and bleeding. Cassian falling twenty feet onto a metal platform. The echoing smack as he landed and the subsequent shattering of her heart.

Jyn had seen Cassian Andor, alive and recovering well, just a few hours before, but she knew the thought of him dying, the way time seemed to stop and ice had gripped her heart, would haunt her nightmares. The last week in medbay hadn’t been a problem; her drugs dropped her into a sleep so deep even the most stubborn nightmares couldn’t haunt her and Cassian himself, lying in the bed next to hers, soothed her during her waking hours. Together, they endured bacta treatments, panicked over the loss of the plans they had fought so hard for, breathed a sigh of relief when the plans had been found. Listened with anxious ears as the Death Star loomed above Yavin IV, released a long held sigh of relief when Luke Skywalker fired a direct hit against the reactor.

Medical droids cleared both Rogue One leaders earlier today, but Draven sent them in different directions almost immediately. Since Jyn’s wounds had recovered satisfactorily, Draven demanded she make a decision: officially enlist with the Alliance or take the next transport out. Cassian, ever the spy, kept a perfectly blank face while he waited for her decision. When she declared her intent to enlist—how could she not after she had gone toe to toe with the Empire after all these years? After so many had died following her on Scarif? After she knew what could be done with the Rebellion?—his neutral expression slipped slightly, bringing the edges of his mouth up in a quick smile.

Unfortunately, Draven must have noticed, too.

“Captain Andor, you’re with me. You need to be caught up on a week’s worth of briefings.”

And that was the last Jyn had seen of Cassian.

She pictured him now, perhaps celebrating with the other officers, offering a toast to the successful defeat of the Death Star. Or perhaps he lay alone in his room, eyes open but unseeing, feeling the keen loss of their fellow rebels on the beaches of Scarif, reliving the death of K-2SO.

Either way, Jyn shouldn’t bother him. She punched the code into her room’s keypad, berating her codependency. How many years had she lived on her own? Surely she could manage one more night.

A single bed with a lumpy mattress, a desk holding only a lamp, and a small wardrobe greeted her within the blank walls of the room. The bed stretched the entire length of the room, leaving Jyn only a few feet to walk around in. She dropped her singular rucksack of possessions onto the bed. Nothing within it would personalize the bland room around her, since it held only a spare change of clothes, her scarf, Cassian’s blaster (Jyn still marveled that the Rebellion returned this to her), and her mother’s kyber crystal.

The kyber crystal.

When she first noticed it missing upon waking in medbay, Jyn panicked. Only when the droids assured her the necklace had been saved with her personal effects had she calmed down. She couldn’t lose her mother’s last gift in her struggle to complete her father’s life work. If Jyn couldn’t have her mother, then she wanted—no, needed—the crystal. She removed it from the bag now, allowing the necklace to dangle from her left hand. It caught and reflected the light of the lamp. Small patches of light danced over the bed and onto the wall, mesmerizing Jyn.  

A knock at her door startled her from her reverence of the crystal.

She opened the door, her heart warming at the sight of Cassian Andor leaning against her door frame.

He stared at her for a moment with those dark eyes and Jyn was transported back to their elevator ride on Scarif. Unaware of Bodhi landing one of the last remaining Alliance transport ships outside, their silence spoke a million unspeakable words.

Thank you for believing me.

I couldn’t have done it without you.

Stay with me as it ends.

I could have loved you.

Cassian cleared his throat quietly, moving his eyes away from hers. “I wanted to make sure you got settled okay.”

“Luckily there isn’t much to settle,” Jyn smiled at him, walking further into the room, hoping he understood the invitation inside. She exchanged her kyber crystal for her rucksack, busying herself with placing it in the wardrobe. Doing something, even something completely useless, beat awkwardly staring at Cassian, dancing around how they were ready to die wrapped in each other’s arms. “How did you know where my room was, anyway?”

“Officer’s privilege, sergeant.” Jyn didn’t need to remove her head from the wardrobe to see the smirk on Cassian’s face.

“Don’t you dare use that as an excuse to boss me around.”

When he didn’t respond, Jyn moved her head from the wardrobe to glance at him.

“I worried you’d lost this,” Cassian murmured. Her kyber crystal dangled from his hand as he kneed next to her bed. “You didn’t have it in medbay.”

“They removed it for my bacta treatments, but I got it back when they discharged me.”

Cassian looked up at her. “Do you sleep with it on?”

“I never really take it off, honestly,” Jyn shrugged.

“Turn around, then,” he instructed, standing up and moving beside her. “I’ll help you put it back on.”

When she didn’t immediately turn, he gave her shoulder a slight push.

“Your shoulder…”

“My shoulder is fine,” Cassian reassured her, “Let me do this for you.”

Again, his eyes held the same raw emotions as in the elevator. She only turned away with reluctance. Cassian stepped closer to her, reaching forward to brush the hair away from her neck, his fingers leaving a heated trail across her skin. He brought the cord of the necklace around her head. No one, Jyn reminisced as Cassian’s fingers expertly tied a knot, had done this since her mother all those years ago. Never had another person seemed so worthy of the position.

When he finished, he turned her around again, fingers never leaving the necklace. Jyn gazed at him as he examined the crystal.

“It was your mother’s, wasn’t it?” Cassian’s voice stayed between them, coating the bleak barracks in a warm, intimate tone.

“She gave it to me before just before she died.”

His eyes met hers from under the fringe of his hair, delicately placing the crystal back against her neck. Fingers traced the cord back along her neck. When he reached the knot he just tied, his hand expanded, grasping the side of her neck and pulling her close.

“I’m glad you didn’t lose it, then,” he whispered against her hairline, lightly brushing his lips against it.

Jyn pulled herself closer to his warm body, feeling the stress of the past few days wane. Holding Cassian in her arms meant he wasn’t lying, broken and bleeding and dying, on a metal platform where she couldn’t reach him. Holding Cassian meant the world kept moving, and she could keep moving with it.

[sankynarula315]

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[ecotone99]

[RF] In the Dark

Chapter one

The engine turning over without igniting on my p.o.s truck is my worst nightmare. Especially when all the rich kids at my school love to watch the struggle. Almost as I’m a scene in National Geographic. “This fucking truck”! I shouted hitting the frayed steering wheel. I had just gotten out from 6th period at school on a Wednesday afternoon. It was hot and dry; a typical summer day in central California. I had learned to not let my poorness image affect me in any way. You see I was a loser, more importantly, I accepted the fact I was a loser. I had no skills that were worth anything. I sucked at sports, video games confused the shit out of me, and I wasn’t out on Friday nights cruising the streets, looking for teenage antics. I had about six months until graduation. I had a promising career at a grocery store or gas station in the future, as college wasn’t an option for me. But there is one thing I do that may separate me from the rest; I’m on a laser tag team. That’s right, laser tag. And tonight was a championship match that’s been 6 months in the making. I take laser tag very seriously. Its in the dark. You see, there’s no image to uphold in the dark. No judgement from others, and best of all, I can escape out of the real world. Escape into something else. Be someone else.

Chapter 2

I rolled up to the laser quest complex about an hour early. I completed my pre match ritual, and I was ready for action. Every professional athlete, performer, or entertainer has a pregame ritual. Mine has been developed, no, perfected over the past few years. I stretch my legs, you know the typical stretch you learn in elementary school. The one where you grab your foot and pull it up to your ass cheek. I eat some ramen (shrimp flavor) for some carbohydrates, and slip into a black shirt and black jeans. It’s important to wear black in the arena. Anything lighter than black will put a spotlight on your position from the hundreds of black lights lined throughout the gaming area. And lastly, I listen to a song by the band Korn, called blind. When I listen, I imagine myself as a mother fucking warrior during the game play. Flipping, bouncing off walls, having a shot accuracy of Atleast 98 percent, and then being hoisted out to the parking lot by my team mates after the win. Music has a funny way of helping you escape. I listen to music a lot.

Chapter 3

My teammates showed up shortly after I did. They’re older then me. They all had blue collar jobs, like the one I’ll probably get soon. They also loved the escape. They greeted me with fist bumps, and threw me a monster energy drink. We immediately started talking about the game plan inside. We have a play book, positions, and have even come up with our own form of communication, surely to confuse the other team. This was our life, and in a sense, this was our Super Bowl. We are all in, down to the custom titans stickers we had made down at the mall. We practice whenever we can. But unfortunately we don’t have the funds to rent out the arena to ourselves. When we do practice we typically have to play with the general public. Unfortunately not many adults play laser tag, so our opponents are typically kids that are attending birthday parties. As birthday parties are the main source of revenue for a place like this. We Annihilate the general public, all of our names appear on the game rankings at the end of a game, well before anyone else. Deep down we know it doesn’t mean much, but for a moment you feel pretty badass when you’re in the top ranks of a game. This list is displayed on a large tv screen in the lobby. Seeing your name on the big screen makes you feel as your watching a CBS sporting event, where you are the star of the show. We play in the regular laser tag league which consists of 4 teams. Our team is called the titans. There is typically a game once a month for 6 months, and a series of playoffs in the last month, determining the teams in the final. We beat the flames, and thunder hawks this year which led us to this moment. Tonight we play the beam masters. They’re good, if not the best.

Chapter 4

The beam masters were exceptional players. They seemed to have everything going for them Inside and outside of the arena. They all drove nice cars, played golf together, and seemed to be really close with one another. I don’t think they take this as seriously as us. I mean why would they? They have things to look forward to after this game tonight, they were living a great life, Atleast from my perspective. They rented out two hours of the arena every weekend to practice. That’s literally $400 a week for a private practice session. By default, they’re the best. In my head They share similarities to the jocks and popular kids in my school. We on the other hand, are kind of like the bad news Bears near the end of the movie when they started to get good. I would say we all have some personal issues, but through dedication And not really having a life outside of laser tag, we were damn good. Both teams were in the parking lot prior to the match. There’s not any bad blood, but the beam masters aren’t really talkative towards us. I have always wanted them to wish us good luck, Come over and start a conversation,help us feel normal for a brief period. But they didn’t. I guess we are outsiders in a game designed for outsiders. The irony of that makes my head hurt. It’s 20 minutes before game time now, I yelled at my teammates, “let’s get this party started”. We headed inside.

Chapter 5

The lobby of the arena smells of tombstone pizza, and burnt popcorn. It’s not the greatest smell to be exposed to, but it comes with the territory. The owner of the place stands on the concession counter and delivers instructions. He explains “its the Best of 3 matches, meaning who can win 2 out of the 3 games. Each game is 15 minutes long with a 10 minute reset. Each team will be awarded a win for most combined hits after the match.” He briefs us on safety, and stresses that no physical violence will take place of any kind. The titans aren’t physical anyways, most of us have never been in a real fight. Actually The thought of a real fight makes me want to piss my pants. However, I have a certain amount of rage within me that I’m sure will be let out someday. Maybe it’s from the rough childhood I had, maybe it’s the constant expectation of What society thinks I should be, maybe it will be a culmination of the loneliness I will endure for the rest of my life. I often wonder what form my rage would take if it ever came out? I don’t know. I’m pretty sure my teammates share the same similarities-but we never talk on that level. Probably because we are in denial, and why visit those emotions and feelings if there is no hope of changing from our simple pathetic lives. We walk into the player rooms to get geared up for the first match. We have a chest piece with Flashing lights and senors, and a gun that seems oversized for what it is. In my head it looks like armor from a medieval battle, or like we’re storm troopers ready to defend the dark side. We’re dressed, were nervous, but we are ready. A distorted announcement is heard on the speakers “You have 30 seconds to take formation in the arena before game play, starting now.” It’s our time, it’s my time. We may be the underdogs, but we’re hungry for a win.

Chapter 6

We take our station in the arena, and the game buzzer sounds. To us, it’s like the hunger games. This is life and death. The next season doesn’t start for another year. A long time to reflect on a loss, if that does happen. I sprint out and start firing. My teammates and I trade positions, using hand signals and yelling out strategic communications. It’s the longest 15 minutes of my life. I took some hits, but I know I tagged more than a few beamers. I felt good. As the first match ends, we feel we have come out on top. Entering the reset time we joked around as if we just beat the living shit out of them. However, when we got our scores, we came up short. Fuck I said. “That’s okay” I tell my teammates. We are all. Disappointed. We put everything into this, The thought of losing the only thing that we have in our life is unbearable. The second match starts, we continue to use the same tactics as before but the Beam masters are just so fluent in every aspect of the game. Every move we make they have already anticipated it. We go left they go right type of stuff. The match ends, and we wait for the scores in reset. We all know the outcome. But maybe there was a glitch in the scoring or something. Maybe we were just being too negative. Nope, They swept us. It wasn’t even close. That means it’s over. There is no third match, there are no technicalities, no options. It’s time to accept defeat. In less than 45 minutes, our small world has flipped upside down. We walk out to the parking lot, I’m not hoisted up.

Final

A full year to think about this. What do I have now? What am I supposed to dream about now? My teammates got in their cars and left. We didn’t say anything to each other afterwards, I mean what’s the point? it’s over. The beam masters stared my way but said nothing. I was hoping for some recognition from them, maybe to the affect of “you were a worthy opponent” or “you almost had us”. Sitting in my truck I started to weep. Weep like a fucking baby. It was too much to handle. For someone like me, who has so little, this is grounds for suicide. I got a sense of relief imagining my lifeless body swinging from a tall structure. Extreme? Maybe, maybe not. Ive come to realize that people who have money and lives seem to have a better chance at everything, or Atleast a head start. Or is it a level playing field? “Fuck that, it’s unfair”, I said. The truth is I have another year to bury these thoughts in my head. I thought, Maybe I can get into something else? I need something to make these painful thoughts of never amounting to anything go away. I want to be normal. I wish I had real bullets in my laser gun. I’m in the dark.

submitted by /u/One_take_only [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2TWwtfD

[gta5onlineblog-blog]

The GTA 5 Online

GTA four is without doubt one of the most anticipated video games from the GTA series. One of the causes for this are the good Teaser's put up by Rockstar Video games. Rockstar gta 5 Video games has finally released GTA four however which has come out not only as a game, but an enormous on the earth of leisure. But what is so particular about it?

Crucial and most important thing of the GTA world.

You can nearly do something. And this time Rockstar Games has added tones of recent things together with TELEVISION channels ...sure TELEVISION channels ...now players can access eighty totally different channels. And one other factor Websites too... one hundred sixty of them. In it the player may also use the mobile phone to entry text messages, arranging conferences and for the first time can name 911 for help or reporting one thing (Be good for once at least ?) However the factor that makes GTA 4 distinctive is that Rockstar Video games has included wealthy vivid details in all the pieces.

The second characteristic of this game is the Natural Motion's Euphoria engine. This is the first time it's being used in a Rockstar Sport too. This improves the civilian's Synthetic intelligence to a whole new level. And it turns the GTA world into a a lot actual world. And for the naughty ones on the market .... The civilians now do inform the police unusual actions and robberies etc...So this will increase the challenge for you too.

The third thing is the brand new real looking automotive system. Now the vehicles won't be accessible for the standard sit and drive technique. Now the avid gamers must scorching wire them instead...oohhh Tasty! The vehicles also have GPS techniques which can assist with navigation. The radio craze is back with 18 totally different stations offering a lot of genres to take heed to. And the racing freaks on the market ....can burn some rubber in three modes of racing in GTA four. Now the player can himself call a taxi to go some the place.

The subsequent characteristic ......hmmm....you might be pondering what concerning the preventing and stuff. So yes GTA four has developed an superior combating engine. Now you may blind fire, lock on and free purpose too. It additionally includes cool reduce scene killing at certain points. The combat system has been changed to a third person view now. In automobile taking pictures may also be obtainable too. For online customers this will be the grand feast. At one time as much as sixteen gamers can play online.

The video game entitled Grand Theft Auto 4 was developed by Rockstar North. The GTA IV, as it is also recognized by that title is an motion adventure game. This is the ninth one over a total of 9 collection of the Grand Theft Auto games. GTA San Andreas was the one which got here before GTA IV.

It's in the month of April of 2008 when the sport GTA IV was released with versions of Xbox and PlayStation 3. The game was released in America and Europe in that release date. Nonetheless, it was on October 30, 2008 when the game was also launched in Japan. On December 2, 2008, the game was ultimately launched in the Windows version.

Studying extra in regards to the game, it was in this fictitious Liberty city the Grand Theft Auto 4 recreation was set. The version of the city available in this recreation is different and utterly redesigned compared to the earlier video games. It was from the real life New York and different things that go on in the city where the town attracts its inspiration.

A conflict veteran Niko Bellic is the protagonist of the game. What we only find out about him is that he's from some nation in Jap Europe as a result of his country is not specified.

It is in the quest for the American Dream why this man comes to America. Within the city, nevertheless, he will get caught up in seedy dealings and affairs with the underworld. Every sort of vice that you can think of akin to corruption, murder, and many others. are discovered in the metropolis. He's unable to come out of when he gets pulled right into a internet of crimes and gangs.

Whereas enjoying this sport, you'll be able to endure a diverse variety of experiences akin to being a primary particular person shooter, a 3rd person shooter, and you'll journey your automotive and what not, the great part of the game. What I'm speaking about is familiar to those who have performed a few of the variations of Grand Theft Auto.

It is an "open-world" gameplay which allows the players an immense amount of hold over the playing expertise.

That is actually the gaming experience that can be attained by any participant of Grand Theft Auto 4. The game is also accessible online with a a number of participant mode. With your friends across the globe, you'll all certainly benefit from the sport for its mode has about fifteen sport types.

This can be a sport ever developed that broke all data of the gaming business main Grand Theft Auto 4 as a significant crucial success. Anyone can guess how huge a industrial success the sport is after it was sold about greater than four million on the first day of launch.

When landing in Canada in the Higher Toronto Area and its vicinity at Mississauga, Markham, Hamilton Burlington, or Brampton Airport, it is wise to make reservations for a taxi online before you land. Some people have a really dangerous expertise ready for a taxi and should sometimes await as a lot as two to 3 hours.

Executives conducting enterprise on the go will just like the fairly environment of a limo where they can make business phone calls, have meetings with business purchasers, or work on their laptops. You will get the Meet and Greet companies of a dependable airport limo and taxi service and make your Airport Transfers with ease between Mississauga, Markham, Hamilton Burlington, and Brampton Airport.

After a tiring flight it's good to treat your self good to a limo experience to your Toronto vacation spot. When you land and are available out of the flight arrival space, the screened chauffer will meet you and help you along with your luggage, so no more carrying heavy masses. Your booked taxi or limousine will be parked in a designated space while your aircraft lands. Child seats can be requested ahead of time to ensure your youngsters travel secure.

Whenever you want to buy one thing on the best way, your personal chauffer will drive you to the shop avoiding areas that have to be averted especially at sure instances of the day. These chauffeurs know the city properly and can help make your Toronto expertise a memorable one. You can find them informative and courteous, so get some sightseeing and shopping hints on the best way.

Passengers who don't book a taxi on-line have to line up with different passengers within the ready area to get a taxi. Reserving a taxi forward of time will guarantee the primary few hours of your Toronto experience are stress free and comfy. Instead of wasting time searching for a taxi you can be exploring the tourist factors of town which may be of interest to you.

The most important up to date is on the Grand Theft Auto V, set for launch next week. This is among the reasons why there's a a lot anticipated on-line heist, and other people logging into the site to see if it is already on the release. Many people have waited for this sport for the reason that firm unfold stared asserting it easier and many fanatics can not wait to get the copy.

What can gamers expect?

There are completely different each day targets that you should know, and this shall provide the players a sequence of different challenges. You've gotten the chance of completing the roles, or get the free street for the in game cash. These are the aims that you will want to do day by day. Eventually, in case you are successful you're going to get the reward. This may embrace the Rock star stacking challenges, and you may make greater than $500000 for the challenges.

The activities

The free roam is bolstered with a set of different actions, which include the only players video games characters. There are contact players, who will destruct the police in an effort to keep the legal colleagues secure. There are different new actions within the game and it consists of Lamar giving directions to gamers to get rid of automobiles, and other staff leaders asking help in destroying the planes which can be within the air.

Modes of the sport

There are three new modes of the game. The new PvP modes are very a lot impressed by the terminator 2, and you will note the striking resemblance. They embody

? Come out to play

? Siege mentality

? Hasta la vista

Come out and play mode

On this mode, there are three runners, who need to make it home but there's a staff of hunters on their tail. They should run, in an effort to get to their vacation spot, and keep away from the shotguns and motorbikes of the hunters. The runners even have entry to weapons to trample the bikers, and it's all about survival for the fittest

The siege mentality

On this mode, a group of about 4 players will stand on their floor, and they are outnumbered however not out gunned. They battle to survive many attacks, and they are in a location, which has a defense mode, within the GTA type setting. The attackers have a group of unlimited weapons, and the defenders have entry to use all manner of weapons accessible.

The Hasta La Vista mode

On this section, the prospect is on, and the Truckers are on the hunt for the Cyclists. The purpose of the bicycle owner is to succeed in the ultimate checking point without being run down, or crushed underneath the wheels of the pursing automobiles. The Truckers only use their automobiles to crash the cyclists, and the cyclists must concentrate on acceleration, and maneuverability to keep their bikes on the proper path.

Woow! Taking part in online automotive racing games is admittedly turning the gaming scene up a notch. Back within the day, with the correct old style computers, such as the commodore sixty four (now the age is exhibiting), to get multi-participant you had to kind of, have a cable guy join the computer systems collectively to have the ability to play in multi-participant mode. Like 2 gamers.

Take a look at what you can do now if you're taking part in online automobile racing games. You've obtained all kinds of choices: tuning your automobile, racing face to face or competing in all kinds of road races.

Road races that are actuallybased on maps as well.

... Not simply designed specifically for a racing game.

It is not even just your desktop LAPTOP you can play the games on.Gaming consoles just like the Xbox 360, permits you to go browsing through your console and race towards any participant, wherever in the world.

Wireless steering wheels are available as nicely for some consoles, so you possibly can sit and play on-line automotive racing video games, without the hassles of getting wires all snarled. Avoiding shedding your concentration and ending up dropping the game, once you used to have to type the wires out and end up going head on right into a wall. Off the cliff edges and all kinds of loopy stuff that make the awesomeness of racing games.

With various challenges, race choices and customization jobs, it's no marvel there's so could video games to choose from.

Not simply racing either.

There's all out action games, that you simply want to be able to drive fast in case you are to evade being captured by the regulation on your racing antics. Video games like GTA, the place you may up to all kinds of mischief, nick a automobile and outrun the regulation.

Then there's automobile capturing games, where you need to maintain your pace whereas trying to take out your opponent.

That's nice if you're playing the part of a cop chasing the fugitives. Doing whatever you want to hunt them down, while attempting to blow out their tyres and produce them to a stop.

For the brand new period of gaming, the Xbox 360 appears to have hit the nail on the top with the choice of logging on.

Automotive racing video games are glorious when you're racing in actual time and it is amazing to suppose that you would be able to bounce on the web anytime you need and have the ability to race an actual opponent as an alternative of a programmed computer.

In fact, there is not any need to be saying in regards to the difference between the web automobile racing games expertise you get, while you play through a contemporary games console, compared with some of the free on-line automobile racing video games you'll find across the net.

Some of them are just a sheer waste of time and embarrassment to the developers. The graphics are sub-par, the customization is non-existent and there's very little you are able to do to make the race your personal.

It is all about enjoying the interplay of the modern gaming, with enhanced graphics, customized engine tuning, real time reporting of injury standing and naturally, some video games like "Need for Velocity", lets you run your races, collect the points based mostly in your driving ability and add all kinds of enhancements to your automotive.

Letting you add on super energy boosters that will amp as a lot speed as doable, guaranteeing that once you take that automotive out the storage for the subsequent race, you may kick your opponents to the curb with an superior avenue car and work your way up the profession modes some games have and be crowned the quickest driver on the web.

[midnight-writing]

ᴛ ᴇ ᴍ ᴘ ʟ ᴀ ᴛ ᴇ

ʙ ʏ

dog dad

ㅤ

ㅤ

╭──────────────────╮

s ᴛ ᴀ ᴛ ᴜ s • Completed

ᴛ ʀ ɪ ɢ ɢ ᴇ ʀ s • Death, light amount of blood within images, mention of bullying, and mental disorders.

ғ ᴀ ᴄ ᴇ ᴄ ʟ ᴀ ɪ ᴍ • Maddie Hasson

╰──────────────────╯

ㅤ

ㅤ

ㅤ

───────

ᴄ ᴏ ɴ ᴛ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ s ˎˊ˗

i Teaser

ii Name iii General

iv Appearance v Personality

vi Health vii Combat

viii Stats ix Background

x Relations xi Roleplay Info

xii Author’s Notes

───────

❝I’m not great at the advice can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?❞

—Chandler Bing, Friends

ㅤ

──────────────

ᴏ ᴄ ᴛ ᴇ ᴀ s ᴇ ʀ ˎˊ-

──────────────

Girl On Fire

“There is a girl

She is wise

and wary of flames

but still, she knows

she will survive the fire

life scorches sometimes.

she has been a phoenix before

and every time

she burns to ashes

she knows

exactly how to rise

again.

She carries

destruction grief

carved river deep in her bones

specializes in

wrecking ball

knows how to bring

the whole thing down

surveys the broken

claims it as wholeness

and names it all good

she knows well

the holy necessity

of beginning again.”

-Jeanette LeBlanc

──────────────

ɢ ᴇ ɴ ᴇ ʀ ᴀ ʟ ˎˊ-

──────────────

—full name

Kallel Hope Hartman

People don’t bug her too much about her name, besides about it being a rarer name.

—meanings

[Kallel] Laurel, Keeper of the Keys.

[Hope] The feeling that a desire will be fulfilled.

[Hartman] Strong man.

—aliases

Kallie. This is what she goes by since she’s not a huge fan of her full first name, everyone calls her this except her step mom.

Kal. Something her best friend Caleb calls her and sometimes her dad does too, there’s no reasoning behind it and she doesn’t mind it.

—age

16. She can be a bit immature at times, but most of the time she acts about her age.

—gender

Female. She was born this gender and has never really thought about changing it.

She/Her

—birth

June 6th in Minneapolis Minnesota. Gemini.

—species

Demi-god

—Godly-Parent

Nike. The Greek Goddess of Victory

—attraction

Bisexual and Biromantic

❝Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.❞

—Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

──────────────

ᴀ ᴘ ᴘ ᴇ ᴀ ʀ ᴀ ɴ ᴄ ᴇ ˎˊ-

──────────────

Kallie is only a little smaller than average height for her age, she is 5’ 3”. She is on the thinner side weighing 110 lbs. She may be a bit thin but she’s fit and has a bit of strong muscle. She doesn’t eat a ton of junk and keeps active since she is on track team.

Her Hair is a light blonde and her eyes are hazel with a strong brown hue. Her hair is straight and soft, usually up in a messy bun or a ponytail. Her eyes are darker in color and she has under eye bags due to not getting enough sleep every night. Her eyelashes are of a medium thickness and length. She has 20/20 vision and has never needed visual assistance. Her eyebrows are thinner, slightly arched and about the same color as her hair.

Her skin doesn’t really have any freckles, or birthmarks, but she has a tiny dot near the left corner of her lips. She gets blemishes ever once in a while due to being a teenager, but does not use makeup to cover it up and normally doesn’t wear makeup at all. She has a thin scar of a line going from the bottom of her left ear towards her nose. Her hands and feet are smaller and thin due to being small boned. Her hands are in between soft and rough since she plays sports and sometimes works on cars, outdoor equipment, etc…

Kallie tends to wear shorts until it becomes way too cold to. She wears a lot of t-shirts, hoodies, flannels and ripped jeans. She mainly wears darker colors and more neutral tones, a lot of black, white, and gray. She rarely wears dresses, during formal occasions there’s a stronger chance of her wearing a feminine styled suit. She doesn’t care too much about her appearance and mainly focuses on comfort.

❝She wasn't looking for a knight, she was looking for a sword.❞

—Atticus

ㅤ

──────────────

ᴘ ᴇ ʀ s ᴏ ɴ ᴀ ʟ ɪ ᴛ ʏ ˎˊ-

──────────────

P E R S O N A L I T Y T Y P E

ENFP-T

ᴍ ᴀ ɪ ɴ ᴛ ʀ ᴀ ɪ ᴛ s

Stubborn | Sarcastic | Independent | Altruistic

Strong-willed | Outgoing | Curious | Absent Minded

Kallie can be very stubborn at times, if she does doesn’t want to do something she will or won’t, she doesn’t let peer pressure affect her too much unless it’s over something not serious that would affect her in the long run. Being strong-willed can connect to her stubbornness since when she wants to do something she will do it no matter how difficult a task or how long it takes her. She’s friendly and outgoing to most people as long as they don’t do anything to offend her, she tries to be friends with as many people as she can. Although she likes having friends, she can be by herself for a while and do things herself since she is independent and may not feel the need of another person to be present all of the time. Due to her being both curious and absent minded she can get distracted easily. Her mind will lead to something else and may throw her off task from time to time. She also tends to ask a lot of questions about unknown things due to her curiousness. Being altruistic or selfless leads her to put others before herself, if someone else needs help she is likely to put herself in danger to help them without being in ti to benefit herself.

She tends to tap on tables or her leg without realizing it along with picking at loose threads on her clothes, peeling paint on objects, or loose stickers. Picking at things tends to happen more often when she is nervous or in a stress inducing situation. When she is happy she tends to have energy and be talkative, which becomes stronger when she is excited, she’ll be more willing to socialize with someone who she may not like as much. The opposite will usually happen when she is sad or angry, she will become less energetic and less talkative, although she tries not to let a lot of negative emotions show since she doesn’t like bothering people with them or talking about her feelings. When in social situations like parties she tends to try and initiate conversation with people she doesn’t know well as long as they don’t seem to be in a sour mood or bothered by her. If it’s her friends she’ll speak to them no matter their mood and try to make them feel better.

Kallie is claustrophobic and does not like to be within small spaces that have no area to escape from, it isn’t as bad as some people have it since she is okay as long as there is a way to get out of the small space when she begins to panic. She has a slight fear of needles but it has dwindled as she has gotten older, she can’t look whenever they are used and sometimes needs a stress reliever, she won’t pass out but she will be quite anxious during the process. There’s no real cause for these fears within her past, she just has never liked small spaces or needles.

F A T A L - F L A W

ㅤOver confidence.

ㅤ

❝She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.❞

—Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor and park

ㅤ

ㅤ ──────────────

ʜ ᴇ ᴀ ʟ ᴛ ʜ ˎˊ-

──────────────

Kallie has only some visible muscles on her biceps, but she is fit and healthy. She has a flat stomach although with slightly defined abs. Overall her body is thinner since she is smaller boned and has a faster metabolism than most people. She also stays fit due to going to the gym at least once a week depending on her schedule, playing sports helps her stay fit too. She is also naturally more athletically bit due to her godly-parent. She tends to eat more snacks, but works them off.

Overall her skin is pretty clear of scarring, there are random small ones from working on things and playing outside when she was younger but she does have a thin scar of a line going from the bottom of her left ear towards her nose. She has no need for visual hearing assistance since both her eyes and ears function well.

Her immune system is pretty well and works as well as the average person, she gets sick every once in a while but due to her lifestyle being a bit healthier she tends to not catch the cold when it’s going around.

She has both Hyperactive-impulsive ADHD and Dyslexia due to being a Demi-god.ㅤ

ㅤ

ㅤ

❝Normality is a paved road: It's comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.❞

—Vincent van Gogh

ㅤ

──────────────

ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ʙ ᴀ ᴛ ˎˊ-

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Kallie is pretty agile but her hits don’t do as much damage as she wished they did. She doesn’t really have an algorithm with how she fights someone yet, she just does whatever seems right at the moment and doesn’t really plan her hits. She usually only fights in self defense and usually is pretty lucky about how much damage she takes in a fight. She knows the basics of self defense since she has taken a couple classes in the past.

Kallie’s main weapons are her fists, pepper spray or anything else she can grab, but she rarely uses anything lethal. Once she is taken to Camp, her main weapon will become a celestial bronze sword, which she would find she has the most confidence in using.

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❝It doesn’t matter what you are, it only matters what you do. It’s your choice.❞

—Sam Winchester, Supernatural

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s ᴛ ᴀ ᴛ s ˎˊ-

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sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ

8/10

She is on the stronger side due to the influence of her mot. She is a bit stronger than an average person her height and weight naturally would be. She wants to gain strength so she can feel more confident in defending herself when needed.

ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇᴘᴛɪᴏɴ

6/10

She is aware of what’s happening around her most of the time and has natural battle instincts, although since she becomes distracted easily she can lose track of events that are happening and what she is doing. She is okay at reading people’s emotions, most of the time she can interpret how they feel, but sometimes she may be oblivious.

ᴇɴᴅᴜʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

9/10

Her endurance is pretty high since she was always taught to be tough and keep going even when it gets difficult. She’ll get right back up after being down, both emotionally and physically. She can run for a while longer than the average person, especially in the case of meeting a goal.She can endure quite a bit of pain, though she’s also stubborn enough to keep going even if its a lot. Emotionally her endurance is pretty good also.

ᴄʜᴀʀɪsᴍᴀ

7/10

She does very well in social situations since she is an outgoing and friendly person. She’s also pretty good at fooling people when telling a lie. Most of the time people believe what she says since she’s not one to lie about anything that would hurt anyone. She’s not much of a flirt and can be slightly awkward when it comes to romance since she doesn’t think about romance often.

ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ

6/10

She is more street smart than book smart, her lowest grade being a C in math due to the trouble she has understanding the subject. She has mainly Bs in her other classes, she tends to get As in the more hands on classes that she has as electives. Though it’s difficult to keep her grades consistent since she has moved schools quite a few times.

ᴀɢɪʟɪᴛʏ

9/10

She is very quick and flexible and has always been. She participated in gymnastics when she was younger, leading her to be quite a bit more flexible than the average person. She is quicker too since she runs a lot and focuses on being faster when participating in track practice or a meet.

ʟᴜᴄᴋ

6/10

Her luck tends to be pretty good, it’s better than the average person due to her mother’s influence. When guessing she is more right than wrong most of the time, especially when guessing who’s going to win something. She does believe in luck and that 13 is her lucky number.

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❝Being underestimated is one of the biggest competitive advantages you can have. Embrace it.❞

—Unknown

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ʙ ᴀ ᴄ ᴋ s ᴛ ᴏ ʀ ʏ ˎˊ-

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Kallie was born into a good environment, her family loved her and they had enough money to be comfortable. At a young age she learned about hard work since her parents didn’t give her an allowance unless she did her chores and didn’t misbehave too much, the same went for her siblings. She was a very active child, she had a lot of energy, and was always wanting to play inside or outside. She would often try and help her dad fix things around the house or in the garage. She could often be found taking clocks or random electronics apart to try and put them back together again, this led her to discover her hobby of tinkering.

In 1st grade when Kallie was 6 she was diagnosed with ADHD. She had been falling behind the other kids a little since she seemed to have attention problems. This caused her teacher to call her mother and talk about it. Soon Kallie was taken to a pediatrician and was diagnosed. Around the age of 6 she also discovered her love of videogames when she began playing games with her brothers when they let her.

She also learned the lesson of grieving and strength when she lost her mother at 8 years old. Carolina had died in a car crash due to a drunk driver, both drivers had died. It was difficult for her to lose her mother since she was very close to her and didn’t quite understand what had happened since she was younger,, but together as a family they supported each other.

Kallie joined a small dance team when she was 9 and managed to make quite a few friends on the team and school but eventually grew apart from a few as she moved on to middle school. During middle school she joined the track team and the lacrosse team. She quickly figured out she was pretty good at sports and was naturally athletic. Although she had found joy in the teams at school, she found a bit of struggle in academics due to her ADHD, especially within her math classes. She had also become a target for a few girls that would pick on her weight and grades, but her friends helped her cope with it.

Once she moved onto high school Kallie had lost a few more friends but still had multiple that she enjoyed spending time with. She also met Caleb freshman year when he moved to Minnesota from England. They quickly bonded and over the years became best friends. She had a boyfriend her sophomore year that ended in a bad breakup at the beginning of that summer. During her high school years she participated in track, swim, and lacrosse, along with the dance company she had been in for years. Being on that many teams kept her busy and also added to her struggles in school, but she didn’t really mind. The bullying continued throughout high school but gradually diminished.

After highschool Kallie moved into her own apartment and began college. She picked an engineering degree and worked at a local restaurant as a waitress. Her wage and tips were the main source of her income but sometimes she would work as a handyman within her apartment complex if the landlord didn’t come to fix something quick enough or she’d help fix people’s cars if she could.

ㅤ ❝She needed a hero so that’s what she became.❞

—Unknown

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ʀ ᴇ ʟ ᴀ ᴛ ɪ ᴏ ɴ s ˎˊ-

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m o t h e r

❝N/A.❞

status: [Unknown]

Nike left Steven (her father) as soon as she was born so she never knew her mother or knew that she was a goddess. Her father knew but had made the agreement to never tell.

f a t h e r

❝He may be forgetful sometimes, but he always has good intentions.❞

status: [alive]

Steve(n) and her were really close but they’ve gradually separated. He cares a lot about Kallie but sometimes work gets in the way of spending time with her. When Nike and him were together, he was apart of a city level hockey team, though now he is a business manager.

s t e p - m o t h e r

status: [alive]

❝Her and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.❞

s t e p - b r o t h e r s

❝Sometimes he’s a bit too serious, but I still love him.❞

status: [alive]

Alex(ander) and her were closer when she was younger but they grew apart once he moved out and went off to college.They had separate mothers and he and Jason are from Diana’s previous relationship.

❝We are two peas in a pod.❞

status: [alive]

Jason and her are and always have been very close, especially since they are only a year apart. They may get in simple fights but they get along again afterwards.

B e s t f r i e n d

❝We know each other so well we can almost read each other’s minds.❞

status: [alive]

Caleb/Abe and her are really close even though they only met freshman year. ㅤ

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❝The shoe that fits one person pinches another; there is no recipe for living that suits all cases.❞

—Carl Jung

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ʀ ᴏ ʟ ᴇ ᴘ ʟ ᴀ ʏ ɪ ɴ ғ ᴏ ˎˊ-

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Find my rules [here] (WIP)

ᴀᴠᴀɪʟᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ

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❝I won't sit still, look pretty.❞

—Daya, Sit Still, Look Pretty

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ᴀ ᴜ ᴛ ʜ ᴏ ʀ s ɴ ᴏ ᴛ ᴇ ˎˊ-

[mrsmyranda-blog]

I'm thankful for my struggles, because without them I never would have stumbled across my strength.

It's October of 2017. This year has arguably felt like one of the longest periods of time I've endured. This year seemed like a constant battle, mostly with myself.

I turned 30 at the end of August; I'm not sure why I was clinging onto my twenties for dear life, but to me it felt like this cliff. A cliff that once you fall off you no longer get to use being "young and naive" as any sort of an excuse, which in reality should happen long before 30. But alas, the day came and went and I only felt slightly different when I emerged on the other side.

I attribute a lot of that lack of a "changed" feeling to the eight months that had proceeded it. 2017, well really the end of 2016, but very near to the beggining of 2017, when I was finally brought me face to face with my internal demon I had lived with for so long. It exposed it to those closest to me, who had in actuality known about this demon since the beginning, but my denying its existence was its most powerful grasp on my life.

I had long denied the control my eating disorder had on my life. If fact, in my reality, I controlled it. It gave me the ability to take a piece of my life and tie it into an uncomplicated little bow, while the rest of my world often appeared as fraying strings. I thought I could hide it behind my physical stomach problems that I suffered from. It gave me an easy way to explain away the thinness, the constant shrinking frame.

I always had an escape route from my anorexia when I entered into my "adult" life. Babies. Pregnancy was my get out of jail free card. When I was responsible for someone else's well being inside my body, I had the strength to tell my eating disorder "no". To nourish my baby, and in turn my own body. After those 9 months I'd have this sweet new baby that needed all of my attention and love, a continued distraction from it. But eventually, it always began to surface again. Quietly sneaking back into my life, the desire to eat healthier as a family, to shed the last few baby pounds, to use the gym as a time for myself. All those events led me right back down into the rabbit hole, and without realizing it was happening I'd soon be so engulfed in the fire again that I didn't even know I was burning. I had returned to what felt like my safe place. Returned to the control I so dearly craved.

Now I have these four, beautiful, often smelly minions. And I know I will have no more. That's where I ended up in late 2016. I was deep into the depths of my eating disorder, and I knew I didn't have my usual escape route planned. The physical effects were debilitating. But, as far fetched as it seemed- I still denied its existence. I was exhausted because I had 4 children who only sleep in shifts, I was depressed because it's winter in SD and that's what happens, I was struggling to walk up flights up stairs because I was so out of shape. I was receiving IV Irom infusions weekly because I wasn't a big meat eater. I was having heart palpitations from anxiety and stress of the holidays.

It wasn't until a random Sunday afternoon folding laundry that it suddenly hit me, I needed help. I needed someone to pull me out of the rabbit hole or I'd soon be stuck down there forever. My mom was at my house within minutes of my desperate call. As I sat on my bed crying about how overwhelmed I was feelings and how anxious and sad I was everyday, she looked at me and said, "Myranda, are you ready to admit you have an eating disorder?"

Whoa. How did she know that? It was my secret, no one knew I still struggled with this demon 17 years after my first diagnosis at the age of 12. Everyone was supposed to think I had healed and that it no longer impacted my life daily, hourly, every second of the day. What I found out that day was my secret was only a secret between my and my eating disorder. My gaunt frame had been telling another story for years.

Admitting that day that my anorexia was not only a part of my life currently, but had been a part of my life for the last 12 years was one of the most difficult things I've ever done. Anorexia thrives in the darkness of people not knowing. That's a big reason I've finally decided to share it with everyone in my life - because when you're open about your struggles it keeps you accountable and gives you reasons to keep fighting when everything in you tells you to run back to what's easiest, what feels the most comfortable.

I visited several eating disorder treatment facilities over the next month. Each time I went, telling my story was excruciating. Exposing my secret behaviors, the high of feeling hungry, the power that made me feel, felt like admitting to being an addict. And it took me awhile to come to the realization, that eating disorders are on the same spectrum of addiction. The high someone feels from a drug is the same high I felt every day I stepped on the scale and the number decreased. The withdrawal effects I felt every time that number went up or when I was forced to eat "normally" In a social setting was miserable. The scale controlled my day. It was how I started my day. And it dictated how the rest of my day, and amount of food consumption went.

I arrived to the month of April, ridiculously sick. I retired to bed immediately after work because I had no energy reserves left over after working. I had come to the breaking point. I was provided with a choice during that time: I could attend a treatment facility near Chicago for approximately 3 months (my doctors advice) or I could try to utilize the resources closer to me and see where I got. But any more weight loss would take the decisoning power out of my hands. The thought of being away from my babies for that long wasn't something I could stomach. Looking back, would it have beneficial for me to go? Yes. Was getting to this point in my recovery in a town with minimal resources easy? Nope. My path may have been slightly easier had I taken that time away, but I didn't. And now I'm here.

It's October. It's been nearly a year since I let my demon out of its shell it hid in. And yet, I still find myself keeping it a secret on most days. Only sharing with those close to me when the oppportunity presented itself. And that allows my eating disorder to still have control, and my path to recovery means every day I need to chose control. I need to be in charge of me.

My journey is far from over. There's bound to be stumbles and falls along the way (I've already had so many in the short time.) but I'm at a place where I'm ready to bring it out of the darkness it thrives in and shine the light in its face. My eating disorder has won many battles, but it won't win this war. I am a stronger person today than I was yesterday and I want nothing more than to show my girls (and boys) that your worth is not determined by the number on a scale. Your worth is determined by the love in your heart. The kindness you extend to others every day. And the love you have for yourself.

Again, I need to be thankful for the struggles I've endured, because without them, I never would have stumbled across my strength.

Here's to the continuation of my journey through recovery.