#the maid has an inkling of what's going on

[viric-dreams]

Jones doesn't have any live-in servants, but there is a maid who comes in twice a week to clean and handle his laundry. He insists that she leave it in the parlour, as the doors to his bedroom and office are always locked. She's joked to her sister before that her employer might be keeping the heads of his seven wives behind those locked doors for all she knows, but she likes her employer. He always seems to take an interest in her life and occasionally brings her things for her nephew. Anything beyond is really none of her business. If she finds any food stashed around the townhouse, she simply cleans around it, quietly replacing anything that's gone bad. Her employer is kind and pays well. Discretion is simply a part of the job.

[togaki-kun]

Okay but if I wrote a “kid gojo goes to find kid nanami in his time” spin-off for konpeitō, what then? Huh?

[globalrebrand]

Thinking about this post by @jymwahuwu....what about Capitano with a darling who wouldn't even tell him she's pregnant in the first place?

Warnings: Pregnancy, not sfw, angst, mentions of abortion

Capitano inquires about your recent doctors visit and you just shrug off his concern. Insisting it was just “a mild flu" and “I'll be better soon.” Never one to pry he doesn't push you for more details, even if your marriage is unconventional, he trusts that you would be honest with him considering he's never done anything to make you mistrustful of him. As far as he knows.

Your husband considers going over your head to confirm your condition with the doctor, but he knows that would only upset you. And regardless you’d bribed the doctor with your allowance to keep your pregnancy a secret.

You tell only your trusted ladies maid. Who diligently helps you keep up the ruse, she lets your bodices out and makes sure you don't show in the early months and makes sure you're never offered wine with dinner.

Capitano isn't around enough to notice the small but tell-tale signs that you're expecting, however, for the others who live in the manor it could not be more abundantly clear that you're pregnant.

So imagine his outrage when he hears of your pregnancy, not from your lips as he would have expected, but from one of the maids. It happens late one night when he's in the library reading, trying to find a moment of peace is an endlessly hectic month, while a maid dusts quietly on the upper level. You've made your self scarce recently and begrudgingly Capitano gives you space. Early in your relationship you told him that he was smothering and he accepted the criticism, and they two of you had found a balance, but now you are cold and aloof. You were never one to be vulnerable, and it was precisely a sort of quiet ferocity that you possessed that captivated him, but he was at his wits end. He thought that the two of you were making progress, but he supposes not, the last five months have been a regression. He would need to talk to you soon, the matter has become so distracting that he tunes in to the whispering happening on the upper levels. Another maid has joined the first as they chat languidly about house gossip when the subject turns to you.

"Her ladyship is so fatigued as of late. I'm not used to her being so torpid. It's disheartening." The first maid whispers almost imperceptibly, her words laced with worry.

Capitano stops focusing on his book entirely. They speak quickly and almost inaudibly quiet in their native Snezhnayan tongue, but his keen ears are able to focus perfectly on the conversation.

"Don't worry, I was the same way with my first, energy always came in bursts, though it left almost as quickly as it came." The other maid, older and a mother herself tries to assuage her colleague. "Poor dear, it only gets worse from this point." She sighs.

Confusion twists Capitano's features. He has in inkling of what the maids could be referring to, but if its as he expects he will be utterly irate that you did not tell him. He needs to hear them say it. Say the word and confirm his suspicions.

"Pregnancy sounds so scary. Ah, I still can't believe she hasn't told his Lordship."

"Oh, that I don’t understand at all, my husband would be furious ."

"Indeed." Capitano says aloud, shutting his book with a violent snap and storming out of the library.

He hears the maids gasp before leaving. Both clearly forgot about his presence. Another unexpected symptom of your influence, the staff have become entirely too comfortable.

Capitano ascends the stairs to your shared chambers. You should be getting ready for bed at about this hour and indeed he finds you in your shared bedroom. When he pushes the door open you startle, stopping in your tracks as you cross the room, but you quickly recompose yourself. This lie you've protracted has likely left you completely on edge.

A fire rumbles behind you in the hearth and your nightgown while not normally so visibly transparent became sheer in the light, it was subtle, but your silhouette against the firelight revealed the slightest protrusion of your midsection. You follow his gaze and turn away from him, without so much as a word.

For five months you’ve hardly let him see you naked not to mention you rejected all his attempts to initiate sex for the past three.

If you apprehend the hostility radiating off your husband, you do not acknowledge it. You were surprisingly stubborn and endlessly poised, keeping your cards quite close to your chest until it was time to play your hand. It would likely upset you but he would force you to show your hand, he'd been far too accommodating of your deceit.

You open your mouth to speak but Capitano wants none of your deflections.

"Pregnant? He questions. His tone, assured and firm. No room for argument, but Capitano can tell from your expression that your're willing to try it anyways.

The audacity that you would give him an incredulous look only incenses him further. He has to wonder why you are working so hard to hide your pregnancy from him.

Unless....it wasn't his.

No. You were many infuriating things, but you weren't disloyal...at least he thought.

"What? No--" His anger surges along with another dagger into his heart. Now he knows you’re lying. Or at least attempting to, but Capitano is having none of it. He has never lied to you. How could you so easily try to deceive him? It was dishonorable at best and a betrayal at worst.

"Don't you dare try to lie to me. The maids have already confirmed as much." He bats away your rebuttal with a terse reply.

As you come to realize the gravity of the situation, of your husbands rage, all color drains from your expression. The look of terror that paralyzes your features is out of place. As long as he you have been his wife, you have never even pretended to fear him. It is one of the qualities he admired about you. Now your wide frightful eyes and rigid frame are making him lose his nerve in the confrontation. An incredibly rare occurrence, the last thing Capitano ever wanted was for you to be afraid of him. However you had crossed a line, you had lied and actively misled him about a matter most important to you both.

"You didn't think to tell me?” He questions, the words curt and cruel.

"Well there's nothing you can do about it now." You reply, your tone defensive and your hackles raised. “It’s too late to….to do anything. The baby is coming.”

"Is it mine?" He questions, unfeeling and entirely unprepared for a negative answer.

"… how fucking dare you." You turn around to curse at him and Capitano is taken aback. He thought your eyes couldn't get any wider.

"Of course it is!" You cry, your expression equal parts outrage and hurt.

"Then why did you hide from me!" He matches your anger, raising his voice and stepping closer as you try to sidestep and evade him. The tightly controlled anger he bottled now sparking and bursting.

"I needed time to prepare." You implore exasperated as if Capitano should have understood your machinations perfectly.

"For what?!" He shouts.

"What if you didn't want it?!" You yell back. No tears have spilled but your eyes are wet and your face feels hot.

Capitano narrows his eyes at you, looking down on your defiant posture equal parts terrified and indignant. Then it all comes into focus.

You want this baby and you...thought he would make you get rid of it. With a gasping sob, you speak up again, your emotions now starting to get the better of you.

"What if you didn't want it....then what would I do?"

As intimate as you two have become in the past half year, Capitano remembers that you are both essentially strangers in many ways.

"Never assume my thoughts." He scolds, his tone terse but with much less bark. He closes the space between you, reaching out a tentative hand to you. Capitano is heartened when you take his hand, slender fingers curling around his broad palm. He begins to relax, but his rage has not subsided fully.

"You think I wouldn't want this child?" He questions, his voice much softer, but a slight resentment still colors his words.

"I didn't know what to think and I-I needed time." You replied, rubbing your tears away with your opposite hand. This is the first time he's seen you like this, so vulnerable. Capitano can't confidently say if he'd ever seen your cry before.

“Time for what?” Capitano urges you for more details. Your reasoning still alludes him. He would have gladly helped with any and all preparations for the baby. Seeing how things unfolded he regrets not being more forthcoming with his thoughts about having a child with you.

“To get a plan in place. If you told me to get rid of it.” Capitano can't even concieve of what you could mean. Would you attempt to leave him? Surely you weren't thinking something so idiotic, but he attempts to reserve judgement when he asks, "what would you have done?"

"Run away." You confess quietly, but Capitano only scoffs and rolls his eyes. The idea is preposterous. You will never leave him, Marriage is a bond that should be upheld and besides he is far too attached for you to leave now.

"I would never allow such a thing. You must honor the vows you made to me." Your husband asserts.

"I would still try. For my baby I-" You insist.

"Our baby." Capitano corrects. You pause, your tears dry and breathing calmed.

"I will not allow the child to inconvenience you." You plead, bringing a hand to his chest and searching his eyes, desperate for validation that he wants what you want. That he wants this child growing inside of you.

"No child of ours could ever be a burden to me." Your shoulders drop with relief and Capitano encircles you with his broad arms.

"You honor me most highly, by having my child." Capitano pauses before continuing, "and our child is already blessed to have a mother who would protect them so fiercely."

"You're not angry?" You question, shocked by his benevolence.

"Oh, I'm livid, but not about the child. At that news, I am delighted."

"I'm sorry," you whisper his name and nuzzle into his chest. "I just couldn't face your rejection. Not with this." You clarify and Capitano begins to see your perspective.

A child changes many dynamics in a romantic partnership and though the two of you seemed relatively stable in your young marriage. He can understand how your fear of his rejection would prevent you from being forthcoming. Especially with a matter so sensitive. Not that even remotely agrees with your actions.

"Is this why you have shied away from me these past month. Why you wouldn't let me touch you?"

You nodded.

Capitano picked you up and laid you on the bed, pushing your night gown up and spreading you legs. He licked his thumb and immediately began to caress your clit.

"You will not hide yourself from me in the future. I must know your thoughts."

You shuddered at the contact.

"Then you must do the same.” You demanded. Capitano could only smile at your gall, to be beneath him legs spread, pussy exposed and still you make demands of him.

"Behave this evening, sufficiently demonstrate your contrition, renew your devotion to me and I will give you anything you ask for." You consider his words before agreeing.

You nod again.

“Say yes husband.” Capitano requests with a raised brow.

"Yes, husband." A rare act of obedience. It suits you well.

Good. Capitano thinks. "I'm glad the terms are agreeable to you." He says lowering himself briefly to press a kiss to your lips, one much deeper and needier than any shared in recent months. Archons, how he's missed being with you like this.

Reluctantly Capitano parts from you and begins to undress himself, one hand working the buttons of his shirt while the other remains steadfast teasing your sex.

"You can start your penance by tending to me as I lick your cunt." Capitano’s smile grows wider as you shiver at his words, clearly aroused an eager. Despite the small pout that lingers on your lips. He heard that the libido of pregnant women was often more intense. You stubborn thing, denying yourself what you so clearly want. It is good that Capitano is in a forgiving mood. Your husband helps you out of your nightdress before laying beside you. He helps guide your hips to his face and keeps a guiding hand on your neck as he leads you to where he aches most. Capitano presses his nose to your dripping sex and inhales deeply. "It's been far too long since we last did this." He all but groans, and despite everything that’s transpired this evening, you're inclined to agree.

[temporaryrose200]

✩My Soon-to-be husband✩

✟pairing: Claude X Fem Reader

✟genre: Yandere

✟warning: Yandere, mention of murder, keeping someone under their own will.

✟scenario

✟fandom: Who Made Me A Princess

✟summary: Weeks of searching for a way back to you world was becoming was becoming slimmer and slimmer. A week before your wedding day, Claude calls for you.

✟a/n: This is another part to this headcanon I made a while back. If you haven’t read part one, you should!:)

Narrow eyes scanned the bookshelves of the palace library, desperately trying to find a book. A book of magic to be precise. Having only been staying at the palace for a month now, you had been desperately trying to find some way back to your world. In only a week, you would married to that demon man, Claude. As soon as you arrived to the palace that day, Claude had wanted the wedding to take place the next day, obviously scared about this information, you begged the emperor to wait a month or so to at least let you settle. After a bit of persuading, he finally agreed, unknowingly giving you time to find a way out of this nightmare. But as days passed, escaping began to feel hopeless.

Picking up one of the many books on the shelf, you quickly skimmed through, eyes searching for certain words. Like many other times though, nothing came up and with a frustrated sigh, you closed the book and stuffed it back onto the shelf. Having been in this library every chance you got, you had nearly been through every single spell book the palace had to offer and nothing came up!

Hearing the sound of the door opening, heavy footsteps followed suit, you had a slight inkling feeling who it was. “What is it now Felix?” You questioned, eyes continuing to scan the dark oak shelf. The tall crimson red-haired guard was either here for two reasons. Reason one: To check up on you and see if you haven’t escaped or planning an escape, and then reason two: To call for you…

A shudder went down your spine at the thought of seeing that cold-hearted emperor, praying to the gods for it to be the first option. “I apologise for disturbing you Miss [name], but his highness has summoned you” Felix spoke softly. Glaring down at your clenched fist, you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Claude didn’t care if he had to order someone to drag you to him, as long as you’re brought to him without a single scratch on your body. And he will check. So not wanting to put another poor guard through what happened the last time you refused, you obligated. Carefully stepping down the ladder steps, Felix under you making sure you don’t accidentally fall. Reaching the final step, the redheaded guard with a firm grip on your wrist, guided you down. Feet now on the ground, you and the Royal guard made your way out of the comfort of the library to the vicious lion’s den.

Following slowly behind with Felix leading the way, you could feel the eyes of passing servants go by, pity filled in their eyes. You tried to ignore them, but soon it became impossible when they began mumbling to one another. Muttering softly about the “disappearance” of your maid. But you know, everyone knows that she didn’t disappear! It was Claude who murdered that poor girl…

Finally stopping in front of a pair of white doors, Felix stepped forward and knocked lightly but still louder enough for someone to hear. It was dead quiet, nobody answered and you let out a relieved sigh. Felix knocked again, this time louder, waiting for some kind of response. You tried hiding your excitement, you really did but it was too damn hard. You didn’t have to see that monster. Backing away from Felix, you gave the redhead a shrug with a fake pout. “Aww, looks like he’s not in.” The pout then morphed into a giddy expression and you waved over to the confused guard. “Well, see you.”

About to dash off, Felix grabbed your wrist, lightly pulling you toward him. “He could just be sleeping” Felix reminded. Placing a hand on the door handle, the man opened it. Your breath hitched and you cringed watching the door eerily open, reminding you of the horror movie you used to watch before you were trapped in this nightmare of a world. Eyes pleaded for Felix to let you go back to the library, you would have got on your hands and knees if it wasn’t for the royal guard pushing you into the dimly lit room. “You’re his fiancée, I don’t think he would mind if you woke him up and anyway, he did ask for you.” And with that the oblivious man closed the door, leaving you all alone inside the lion’s den.

Thoughts plagued your head, eyes scanning the room for any sign of Claude. Checking the comfy plush bed of your soon-to-be husband, you see no Claude. Wanting to believe that he had more pressing matters to attend to, you knew that hope was just a pipe dream. Even if his kingdom was on the brink of war, the emperor would still make time for you, and probably (definitely) even start a war for you. It horrifies you to the core to think a man like him could be that obsessed with someone. A man who killed his own flesh and blood…

E/C eyes landed on a nearby figure laying peacefully on an elegant white and golden couch. Approaching the man you would find yourself captivated by the sight. Even if he was a horrible man, you do have to admit that Claude was breathtaking to look at, though you would never say that out loud. A bit of his golden locks lay against his face, covering his soft smooth face. You don’t know what compelled you to do this next thing, moving a hand towards him, you push a few locks of hair away from his face and behind his ear. In this state, he looks peaceful. You found it weirdly cute, making you forget all the bad stuff he’s done to you and the people around him. An emperor that would kill thousands in your name now reminded you of a sleeping child. But soon that would change. Not wanting to disturb him, you pushed yourself up and as you were about to move away, a hand grabbed your arm with a tight squeeze. “Where do you think you’re going?” A chill went down your spine and you mentally cursed at yourself. How long had he been awake, was he really asleep or was it some sort of trick?!

The tight grip on your wrist would surely leave a bruise. Stuttering out a response, you tried coming up with something to get you got off this shitty situation. “Umm, W-well you see…I um-“ Becoming pissed with all this stuttering and stumping, Claude rolled his diamond eyes pulling you onto him. Falling onto his chest, an arm slithered around your waist. You knew fighting him would be futile and it would only anger him, so you stayed, your head resting against his chest, hearing the light thumps of the emperor’s heartbeat. Tears welling up In your beautiful E/C eyes, sobs escaped from your mouth and salty tears stained the blonde clothes. Was this your life, to be the wife of this monster? You had a second chance at life, which not many people had and it was already going down the gutter.

Claude on the other hand ignored your cries, instead, he imagined a perfect life with you. Just the two of you together forever, maybe even a child, if Claude was kind enough to share you. Who knows what the future will hold…

[angelbaby-fics]

Just saw my first picture of Ransom in the sweater during Autumn It has me thinking about Ransom where him being independent and less of a rich meanie, he is doing laundry and shrinks his sweater. THE sweater. So little gets a sweater just like cg Ransom. And he has to go buy another so they can match ♡ and they cuddle and eat cookies together ♡ that sounds like a nice day to me ♡

-♡

Sweater Weather

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: OMGGGGGGG anon this is such a cute idea!! i had to write it as a full fic & i even have some inklings of a part 2 in mind 😳 ahhh i'd give anything to hug him in that big comfy cozy sweater omg 🥺💕

Ransom could absolutely, one hundred percent do his own laundry. Seriously, how hard could it be? All he had to do was put the clothes in the machine, pour in some soap, and press start. Just because it took him until his forties to start doing this on his own didn’t mean you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks. Ransom was committed to setting a good example for you, teaching you how to be self-sustaining and not just a spoiled brat like he’d once been. As a result of this decision, the maid now only came every two weeks instead of weekly, and Ransom was responsible for everything in between. 

Dragging the hamper down into the laundry room, Ransom sighed as he tossed handfuls of dirty clothes into the washing machine. He slammed the metal door shut with a roll of his eyes; just because he could do the laundry didn’t mean he had to enjoy it. As the water began to fill up the drum of the machine, Ransom went back upstairs, settling into his big armchair to enjoy a book while he waited for you to wake up. The coffee he’d made earlier that morning was already room temperature by now, but he decided he’d rather just bear it than get up and make a new one. One chore was enough to deal with right now. When less than five minutes remained on the wash cycle, Ransom heard you stirring in your room upstairs. 

He took the stairs two at a time, not wasting a second to get you into his arms. Lifting you out of your crib, he rocked you back and forth, patting your back to soothe away a sob that hadn’t yet come. Ransom bounced you on his hip for a few minutes as you adjusted to the new morning, whispering sweet affirmations as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. He carried you over to the window, and you hid your face into his chest as he opened the curtains to let in the sunshine. Your daddy smelled like wood and cinnamon and love all wrapped up in one man.

The buzzer of the washing machine went off just as Ransom and you reached the bottom of the stairs. You looked up at him with wide eyes, frightened by the sudden noise, but he comforted you once more. “Shh baby, don’t worry,” Ransom soothed, “It's just the laundry.” He picked your blanket and pacifier up from the couch, adorning you with both. “Do you wanna help me put it all in the dryer?” You nodded, always eager for quality time with your daddy. He carried you back down to the basement where the laundry room was. You rarely saw this part of the house as you rarely needed to, aside from laundry it was mostly used for storage and guest accommodations if the upstairs guest rooms were taken. Curiously, you gazed all around you, taking in all the aspects of this new part of your daddy’s massive house. 

Ransom sat you on top of the dryer. Opening the doors of both machines, he began to take out damp clothes and hand them to you. It was your job to toss the clothes into the opening of the dryer below you. Finally, when all the clothes were loaded in, Ransom handed you a dryer sheet to put in with it all. It smelled like fresh lavender, the familiar scent of your sheets and blankets. You grinned behind your paci, so proud to be part of what made your house a home. Ransom picked you up off the dryer and set you down on the floor so you could push the door closed all by yourself, and you waved at your clothes through the clear window as they began to spin. 

To pass the time while the clothes dried, Ransom made you breakfast and helped you eat it at the kitchen table. He was just wiping off your face with the corner of your bib when he heard the buzzer on the dryer. This time you weren’t scared, you knew what the sound meant. 

“Is ready?” You asked with excitement.

“It sure is! Do you wanna help me organize it?” Ransom offered, happy to have his favorite little helper make the chores less boring.

Ransom removed your bib and lifted you back onto his hip. He put you back on top of the dryer and scooped all the warm, clean clothes into a hamper to take back upstairs.

“I’m sorry baby, but you gotta walk up with me.” He said with a sigh. “Daddy can’t hold you and the basket at the same time!”

But being the stubborn and spoiled little angel that you were, that wasn’t gonna happen. So Ransom carried you back upstairs, settled you into his big comfy bed, handed you a stuffy to watch you for the moment, and then retrieved the laundry on a second trip. When he got back upstairs, he dumped the warm clothes on top of you, making you giggle as the fresh laundry rained down on you in a flurry of cozy smells and soft textures. You emerged from the pile like a baby chicky from an egg. Ransom kissed your nose before starting to pick the clothes off of you one by one, folding each one as he went. One of your t-shirts, then another, a pair of his socks, and a cute little sweater of yours. 

Except… he couldn’t remember buying a sweater like this for you. In fact, it looked an awful lot like one of his sweaters but smaller.

“Oh, come on!” Ransom whined, dropping the shrunken sweater on the bed with frustrated force.

“What’s wrong, daddy?” You asked.

“I’m not sure,” Ransom replied, taking out his phone and furrowing his brows as he typed. 

Turns out, laundry was indeed more complicated than Ransom had assumed. If he’d been more careful, he would have known that some clothes needed special settings, or else the heat could warp the fibers and make them shrink. Thus, his favorite cream-colored cable knit sweater was now far too small for his giant frame.

It was perfect for you, however.

Thinking quickly, Ransom picked the sweater back up and held it up to you. Your eyes widened with glee. A new sweater just for you? And you’d be matching with daddy! You eagerly took the sweater out of his hands and put it on over your shirt. It fit you perfectly, the sleeves just slightly too long in the most perfectly cozy way. Wearing it felt like a constant hug from Ransom. Despite having just been washed, you could still smell him under the lavender scent. The threads of the knit were comfortably lived in, frayed around the hem from years of wear and anxious fiddling. That’s when you realized it was Ransom’s sweater all along, shrunken down to your size.

“But daddy…. It’s s’posed to be yours!” You said, looking up at him with a nervous look. 

As happy as you were to be the new owner of your favorite sweater, it saddened you to think you would never see him wear it again. Your eyes started to water, mourning the vision of your daddy as you always imagined him, snuggled up in the piece of clothing he’d owned the longest and worn most often. Change was hard for you to take, and Ransom understood that. “Hey, it's okay baby, you can have it now!” Ransom tried to cheer you up, gently wiping the tears from your face with his soft fingers.

“But I want you to have it!” You cried into the sleeves.

“It's too small for me, baby!” He laughed, a smile breaking through your sobs as you imagined Ransom squeezed into a tiny sweater. “But if you want, I can buy a new one for myself. Then we can match!”

You smiled, nodding leaning forward into his arms.

“Yeah? You like that idea?” Random asked, and you nodded again, killing two birds with one stone as you used the action to dry your tears on his shirt. “Alright baby, let's go out and buy a new sweater for daddy.”

[untaemedqueen]

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 13.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

When you finally do show up to work again, Kim Namjoon does not look pleased.

You have been avoiding him and you were doing great at it until you had to have a meeting this morning.

Your dress is brand new, probably with the tag still sticking out above the back of the neck. You haven't been home in almost a week, you just keep buying new clothes. Guk doesn't want you to leave and to be honest, you don't want to leave either.

You're so comfortable with him that it feels like you've been with one another for years already.

Once your maid started feeding Piranha everyday, you were free to stay over his apartment for as many days as you'd like and even now as you sit back down at your desk you can't wait to be able to leave.

Namjoon enters your office without a word and sets down the details for today's meeting in front of you.

"Thanks," you mumble, turning on your computer.

He knows you're avoiding eye contact and with his personality being as outgoing as it is, he angles his body until you have no choice but to look at him.

Your eyes are soft when you look over at him and he folds his arms, raising his eyebrows. "I don't really appreciate the fact that you haven't been here because you've been avoiding me."

"Joo-"

"You didn't even give me a chance to apologize for walking in on you like that on that day. So," he sighs, sitting down in the chair before you, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't have been so brazen and went into your room and I shouldn't have stormed out like that. I was just so shocked… I never tho--... I'm sorry, I apologize for putting you in an awkward position."

You didn't expect him to apologize. Well, you aren't sure what you expected, really, but it wasn't this. You at least thought he would give you some sort of attitude.

"Oh… Well, thanks," you mumble awkwardly, running your hand over the back of your neck.

"So, is he treating you well?" Joon inquires, crossing his legs and leaning back in the seat.

"He's really great and he's been treating me really well," you reply, looking over the documents.

To be honest, another reason you didn't want to leave the comfort of Guk's apartment is because you've had a lower fever the past day or two, not to mention the dizzy spells and extreme tiredness that you suspect is from all these late nights Guk has been putting you through with his wondrous fucking.

"Well… good," Joon breathes, fixing his cufflinks.

You're not as tight lipped and sharp now that he looks at you in the morning sunlight. You seem softer this morning somehow, seemingly at ease with the world that has so often given you problems. Although, you do have dark circles beneath your eyes that you haphazardly tried to cover with your concealer.

"Sir?! You don't have an appointment, you can't go in t-"

"I always have an appointment!"

Both of your heads tilt quickly to your office door as it bursts open and you simply blink at the man in the doorway.

"Hey, gorgeous," Jimin yawns, entering your office with two coffee's in hand.

Jimin Park is probably the only person in this entire universe that could change someone's opinion of them so rapidly.

Just last week, Jimin was cautious of you. He gave you an inkling of acceptance when you first met and now it seems he's closer to you than both Taehyung and Jeongguk combined. You don't know how he does it. He worms his way into people's hearts so fast it's like he's just always been there.

He looks over at Namjoon, seemingly studying him within a second before traipsing into your office as if you and he own it together.

"Chim-" you begin, only to shake your head at your assistant who dashes into the doorway with wide eyes.

"I went over to the apartment and Guk said you had something to do called work?!" he guffaws, waltzing around your desk and handing you the matcha latte you like.

Namjoon just continues to stare, watching how Jimin combs your hair off your shoulder with ease and how you certainly don't pull away.

"Yes," you droll playfully, leaning back in your large, comfortable chair, "it's something normal people do on a Monday."

Jimin's face becomes pinched in a moment's notice, teasing you in a quick fashion. "Couldn't be me."

He sits down on your desk, turning his muscled body to angle towards your coworker. "Jimin Park, pleasure."

"Namjoon Kim," he replies stiffly.

That's all Jimin feels is necessary before he's turning back to you. "Why do you look so fucking exhausted? Tell Guk to keep the dicking down to a minimum so you can get a good night's sleep."

You feel your neck and cheeks heat up furiously and you can only look up shyly in Joon's direction.

Your coworker's eyebrows raise promptly and he seemingly shakes it off with an astounded wag of his head.

You've never had people around you like this before, he doesn't know how to take it.

"Chim," you mumble uncomfortably.

"What?" he asks, downright confused before returning his attention to Namjoon who still hasn't made a move to leave your office, "Oh. Sorry, bud. It's normal to talk like this in my field of work."

Your coworker simply hums, taking off his glasses to clean them and in doing so, he narrows his eyes at Jimin to see him better.

"Why're you blushing?!" Chim coos, pressing his cool hands to your face.

When you look up at him with hardened irises, he deflates just a little. His saddened face quickly turns to surprise and his hand coasts from your cheek to your forehead.

"You have a fever," he murmurs concerned, putting his other hand to his forehead.

"Just a little one," you reply softly, looking over the documents on your desk.

"Did you tell Guk? You shouldn't be here if you're sick," you friend chastises you.

"I'm fine! Work is work," you promise, taking a sip of your latte.

Namjoon hates to agree with the intruder but he nods along. "You should have told me you were sick, I would have pushed the meeting back until you were feeling better. But I'm sure it's because you didn't wanna text me."

Your eyes snap to his and you raise an eyebrow suspiciously. Of course, this man that's known you for years is right but still… to say that in front of your newfound friend?

You're still a childish, hurt mess inside it would seem as you grab your purse and scowl. "Fine, I'll go rest. You can tell the shareholders that the meeting is canceled fifteen minutes before the call."

"Y/N," Joon mumbles, putting his glasses back on.

"No, you both know I hate pestering and people ganging up on me," you hiss, slamming your office door shut.

"We weren't!" you hear Jimin shout faintly and you can only roll your eyes as you leave.

You ended up heading to your mansion after the morning interaction.

When you finally stepped into your bedroom, you began to feel bad about what transpired but you being the proud person you are, you refuse to apologize.

Stripping off your clothes, leaving them strewn onto the ground, you crawl into your gigantic bed with a sigh.

Your quick, random outburst has been lost on you since you left the office building. You don't know where it came from and you don't know why you snapped so suddenly.

Cuddling the pillow that Jeongguk last slept on, you find yourself suddenly overcome with fatigue and you sigh softly as you close your eyes.

When the world begins to fade away from you, you dream of a huge Great Dane and his owner whose smile could rival the brightness of the sun.

"How's Y/N feeling?" Jimin inquires, tossing your boyfriend a water bottle after he finishes his reps.

The escort tilts his head, confused at what he means. "She was fine this morning before she left for work."

Taehyung slowly sets down the rowing equipment, noticing how the shortest of them furrows his eyebrows.

"I mean after she left work. I went there to drop off her latte and she was sick. She has a fever and shit."

"What?!" Guk hisses, standing up in an instant.

"Yeah, man. She stormed out and was all pissy 'cause that kid Namjoon and I were trying to take care of her. She said she was going home," Chim announces with a frown, "I thought she meant your apartment."

Guk doesn't take it as a slight. Surely if you were in your right mind and not ill, you would have wound up back at his place.

But you didn't even call or text him, you didn't even let him know that you weren't well. If he would have known this morning, he would have certainly kept you in bed with him.

"How pissy did she get?" your boyfriend inquires, grabbing his towel and tossing it over his neck.

He begins to pack up all the necessities for the gym he always brings, looking up at Jimin with wide eyes as if to tell him to hurry up and speak.

Jeongguk knows that there are times where your former self begins to peek out and say hello again. He can't imagine how terrible you must feel now that you're not feeling well and you're alone.

"Why did she go back to that fucking mansion?" he hisses to himself, grabbing his now wrinkled black t-shirt.

"She was really snippy and short, she stormed out. Y'know, how she gets when she feels like she's being backed up into a corner," Jimin replies, thinking back to just a few days ago when you got upset over nothing.

"Yeah, I know," Guk murmurs, picking up his bag.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Taehyung inquires, finally speaking.

Even after the first day you met the handsome escort was still wary of you but after seeing Jimin take to you like a pig in shit, he decided you were alright.

"Please," Guk almost begs, slinging the heavy black sack over his shoulder, "Chim, can you feed Hawking tonight? I don't think I'll be making it home if she's really sick."

"I got you, bro," he promises, putting his barbells down.

Taehyung stands up, grabbing his dress shirt off the machine closest to him with a sigh. "Come on, Gukkie."

Taehyung didn't seem to mind all the stops your boyfriend wanted to make, in all actuality it was probably refreshing to see Guk care about somebody so much that would equally return that kind of attention and care to him.

Now, as the escort quietly enters your home, he sets the multitude of groceries down on the open onyx kitchen counter with a worried sigh.

The mansion is terribly quiet, just noises of the heater sporadically clicking on to heat the floor beneath his bare feet.

Your boyfriend silently puts away all the perishables with the intent that he'll cook you some soup in a little while.

Guk isn't sure why you didn't come back to his apartment but he's not as worried as he might have been years ago when he was with Chloe. Just because you came back here doesn't mean you have less affection for him, he knows that to be true.

Fixing his eyebrow piercing, he looks down at the thermometer and medicine he just bought to try and make whatever illness this is go away faster.

Picking them up, he heads for the massive staircase that leads up to your room.

Step by step, he takes in your strewn clothes. They're haphazardly tossed about with no type of pattern or reason and your bedroom door is open wide with no light source to guide him in. The large windows are covered with the heavy black drapes and what little light from the hallway shows you looking tiny in your massive bed.

You're asleep, coddling a pillow to your body as if it would provide you warmth like your boyfriend.

"Baby," Guk mumbles until his breath sullenly, entering the room.

His mother was sick a lot when he was younger, he tried so diligently to take care of her while his father was away. Whether it was the poor conditions of the apartment they lived in or the woman who bore him running ragged to try to make ends meet -- he'll never know.

He strips off his shirt, crawling into bed beside you and you barely stir. You're usually such a light sleeper, any movement in his bed would make you wake up for at least a minute or two.

Your boyfriend gives a gentle kiss to your forehead, feeling the heat radiate from your skin and he sighs.

You're really not feeling well.

"Hey, baby," he coos softly, setting down the thermometer and meds beside him to coddle you to his body.

You groan gently, obviously upset with being woken up.

"Baby, Jimin told me you weren't feeling too good," he whispers, brushing some of hair away from your face.

"Guk?" you croak, opening one eye to look up at him before immediately closing it.

You feel worse than this morning if you're being honest, you're in this cloudy daze with a parched mouth and a rolling stomach.

"I'm here," he promises, pulling you slowly into his arms and away from the pillow you held in his stead.

"I might get you sick," you whine, laying your hot face against his cool chest.

"Don't care," he replies softly, kissing the top of your head.

"I don't know why I feel so sick, I was fine and then…" you're at a loss for words.

"It happens, sweetheart. I'm gonna take care of you," your boyfriend assures you, grabbing the thermometer and tapping your chin sweetly.

You allow him to play his role as doctor, letting the warmth and comfort of him being here soothe you greatly.

"Yeah, you're on bed rest," he announces, squinting in the dark light to see your temperature.

"I'm sorry I didn't come home. I-I just drove back here," you mumble blearily, already feeling your consciousness slipping from you.

Home.

Jeongguk's heart quickens at the simple word.

His apartment feels like home to you.

Fuck, he loves that.

"I'm here now," Guk whispers, allowing you to start sleeping atop him.

"Then it's home," you murmur.

Guk kisses your head softly, grabbing the television remote and closing his eyes.

This is the single greatest thing he's ever had the pleasure of experiencing. He's never been so in love, he's never been so comfortable and he's never wanted to give all of himself over to someone else before.

Too bad great things aren't meant to last...

<----- Last Chapter                      Next Chapter ---->

[kingorqueenofnarnia]

Stay With Me Forever

I'm in a Caspeter brainrot. I found the ship less than two days ago and if anyone tries anything against it I shall kill everyone in this world and then myself. Anyways, have a happy ending:

.

Caspian is in the Astronomy Tower.

He stands with his hands braced on the railings, looking down on the castle as the sun climbs higher in the Narnian sky— it will be noon in an hour, and the castle is full of hustle and bustle. The coronation was yesterday, and the messes are being cleaned and Narnians are finally coming out of the woodwork to assimilate into Telmarine society. He can see a Telmarine soldier speaking to Greenbriar the centaur near the gate, both of them with smiles on their faces, and lets his pleased smile grow over his lips.

Surprisingly, the Telmarines have had very few qualms about Narnian Animals roaming free. It bodes well for the challenges Caspian faces as the newly-crowned king in Narnia.

One of the doors in the courtyard are thrown open, and Caspian's eyes get drawn to the forceful movement.

"Helena!" High King Peter's loud voice echoes through the castle as he strides forward, and Caspian cannot help but follow him with his eyes.

The High King is dressed in Old Narnian royal garments, which Caspian has no doubt he grabbed from the treasury in Cair Paravel. Black linen trousers hug his powerful legs, and a short white tunic with laces instead of buttons and long flowy sleeves covers his torso. Caspian sees the sunlight glint off the cloth, and realises that there is gold thread embroidered into the cuffs and the neckline. His golden hair is longer than it was four months ago when they first met— it reaches his shoulders now, and he wears it in a dozen tiny braids interwoven with golden ribbons; no doubt Lucy's doing.

"Helena," High King Peter calls again as he reaches the other side of the courtyard, and Caspian watches as a maid hurries towards him and bows. Then, the ensuing conversation cannot be heard, for they disappear through the doors.

Caspian didn't know Peter knew any servants by name. He sighs and leans forward, elbow on the railing and chin on his palm, staring at the door through which Peter disappeared.

Aslan came, an hour ago. Caspian saw him walking with Lucy, Edmund, Susan and Peter, and while he was not invited to the discussion, he has an inkling as to what the talk was about.

Caspian knows that the Kings and Queens of Old came from somewhere not in this world. He has heard the siblings talk about going back home in soft voices that conveyed just how much they hated the idea of it. He has heard them talk about how it is bound to happen now, because it happened the last time. And now, now that he is King and Narnia is safe and the Narnians have their freedom back and there are no wars to fight, Aslan has come to take them back.

Caspian feels his throat constrict.

He thinks about staying in this Castle, with none of the four siblings to keep him company. He thinks of the talks on politics and law making with Edmund as they kept watch together. He thinks of reading poetry with Lucy, and small competitions in archery against Susan that he kept losing much to his annoyance and Susan's smugness.

Most of all, however, he thinks about Peter.

High King Peter, a boy who looks Caspian's age with eyes so blue it makes one think of the summer sky and hair so golden it seems to be spun of sunlight. Peter, with his terrifying scowls and loud laughs, who talks freely and kindly with the Narnians at one moment and turns into an experienced and ruthless War General at the next. High King Peter, who fought— and won— a duel to the death in Caspian's honour while wearing a bracelet that Caspian tied around his wrist.

High King Peter, whom he nearly kissed last night.

Caspian's cheeks burn at the memory, and he steps out the balcony into the room with the hope that no one noticed him.

The coronation celebrations were in full swing, and Caspian was slightly drunk, and found Peter in one of the balconies away from the throne room. They got to talking as they were wont to do, slowly stepping closer and closer until their noses were a hair's breadth from each other.

And then Peter turned around and left him standing there with a thundering heart and eyes burning with tears he refused to let fall.

By the Lion, Caspian is such an idiot.

Of course Peter would not like him. Why would he? He is High King above all Kings in Narnia, a legendary War General with a lethal sword and a powerful presence, who dragged Narnia into the Golden Age with his siblings out of sheer stubbornness and determination. He is High King, about him ballads have been made and books have been written and on whose name people take solemn oaths.

Caspian, on the other hand, is a young King with no experience who did not even fight his own duel. He has accomplished nothing in his nineteen years of life, while Peter fought his first battle at the age of thirteen and emerged victorious against the White Witch. By the time Peter was nineteen the first time in Narnia, he had fought and won thirteen wars.

Caspian is nothing compared to Peter. Of course Peter does not like him, not the same way he likes Peter.

WHAM!

Caspian whips around, hand flying to his sword as the doors are flung open so violently they slam against the wall and rebound. Peter, he realises a second later, and lets go of his sword's hilt.

The High King moves towards him with long, powerful strides, Rhindon clinking at his waist and boots clicking against the stone floor, a look of singular focus in his eyes.

"High King Peter," Caspian says, standing up straight as the man grows closer, "what—"

Peter kisses him.

A hand cups his cheeks and an arm wraps around his waist, and then he is dragged flush against Peter as his plump lips work insistently against Caspian's own.

Caspian gasps, and Peter takes the chance to slip his tongue into his mouth, running it over the back of his teeth and dragging it over the roof of his mouth, pulling a surprised whimper from his throat. Caspian gives in, lifting his arms to wrap them around Peter's shoulders, and opens his mouth wider to let the man do whatever he wishes.

He moves his lips against Peter's as best as he can, but Peter's touch is scorching where his palm is pressed into his lower back and his fingers are firm yet gentle where they grip his chin and his teeth send a shiver up his spine when they sink into his lower lip and his shoulders are broad and muscled under his hands and oh—

Caspian pulls back with a loud gasp, chest heaving with ragged breaths and blood roaring in his ears. He feels his pulse in his temples and the heat in his bright red cheeks, and he opens his eyes to stare in astonishment at Peter.

Fuck, Peter.

His lips are swollen and pink with the kiss, braided hair just a little out of order, and his eyes shine like jewels as he stared back at Caspian with the widest smile Caspian has ever seen on his face.

"I'm staying," he says breathlessly.

Caspian's heart stops.

"I'm staying," Peter repeats, wrapping both arms around Caspian and shaking him to let the point sink in. "I'm staying, forever. I'm not leaving Narnia, Caspian. I'm staying."

Caspian stares at him with wide eyes, almost afraid of believing what he's saying.

Peter laughs, loud and elated, and surges forward to press a quick, feather-light kiss to his lips. Caspian's cheeks burn hotter, and Peter laughs again.

"I'm staying here, in Narnia, forever," he whispers, leaning forward to press his forehead against Caspian's. "And I am free, now, to ask you this: King Caspian, will you do me the honour and bestow upon me the pleasure of allowing me to court you?"

Caspian squeaks.

"Me?" He says faintly, fingers still gripping Peter's shoulders tight. "You want to court me?"

"Verily, my heart cannot stop wanting you, Caspian," he says earnestly. "You are one of the best people I have ever had the good fortune of meeting. You are kind and smart and loyal and you care about my Narnians and I..." Peter exhales, a soft smile growing on his lips.

"I couldn't help it," he whispers. "Falling for you was so very easy, and it scared me, because I'd left Narnia before and I did not want to go through a second time of leaving love behind and come back to find them dead for thirteen hundred years. I- I did not want to do that again, Caspian."

Caspian lifts a hand to cup Peter's cheek, unable to find the words for the things he wants to say. "Peter..."

"But now," Peter says, and his smile is coming back, bright and wide and oh so beautiful, "now we can stay in Narnia for the rest of our lives if we so wish. For Edmund, Lucy and Susan, they would choose Narnia without hesitation."

Caspian's heart is hammering against his ribs, and he can feel the slow smile that curves up the corners of his lips as the pieces start connecting in his mind.

"And you?" he asks, unable to breathe all of a sudden, "what did you choose?"

Peter leans forward to touch his forehead to Caspian's, a long sigh slipping out between his lips. "You," he whispers. "I chose you."

Caspian cannot help it: he tackles Peter to the floor, desperate lips finding Peter's and prying them open to shove his tongue into his mouth, dragging a hoarse moan from the depths of his chest. Peter's arms tighten around him, and suddenly he is on his back on the floor with a hand under his head and an arm wrapped around his waist, Peter's weight pinning him down and a leg shoving its way between his thighs.

Caspian throws his head back and moans at the sensation, and Peter immediately latches onto the skin above his collarbone with his teeth. Caspian gasps, back arching and hands flying up to grip Peter's hair, but Peter is rolling his skin between his teeth and he cannot think.

"Peter," he whines, tugging on a fistful of braided golden hair, and Peter flicks out his tongue to lick over the bite mark. Caspian hitches out a moan, and he feels Peter grin against his skin.

"Yes, Caspian?"

Caspian tugs on his hair again, whining when Peter moves to the other collarbone and digs his teeth in, sending sparks skittering up Caspian's spine.

"You're staying," he gasps, and Peter laughs.

"I'm staying," he says against Caspian's skin, delight visible all over his face. Caspian surges up to press his lips against that plump, red mouth, and Peter kisses back enthusiastically, plundering Caspian's mouth with his tongue till he is whimpering. "I'm staying, and I'm not leaving you. Ever."

"You have my permission, High King Peter," Caspian whispers when they part, heart feeling like it could burst right out of his chest with how hard it was beating. "I give you permission: court me."

Peter's visage lights up with a brilliant smile, and Caspian loses his breath all over again at the gleam in those blue, blue eyes. Now he understands why the High King is called Magnificent.

"Thank you, Caspian. I love you."

"I love you too," he murmurs, dragging Peter down into another kiss.

.

Background: Peter had a wife and a husband back during the Golden Age. Also, this is very definitely Caspian's first kiss.

[billi-mausi]

Love Love Love the relationships (completely platonic) between the Marauders and the girls

(also I feel like all of the boys have one girl each as their SECOND best friend?? Like Remus & Lily, Sirius & Mary, James & Marlene, Peter & Pandora, but more on that later)

Anyways so here are some of my HCs:

James & Marlene

Childhood besties!!

Bestfriends ( Sirius & Marlene often fight each other for this title, but both know Marlene is James bestfriend)

They have a small matching scar right next to their mouth, because 6 year old Marlene & James thought it was a really fun idea to climb the tree in Marlene's backyard (all the whole Peter was telling them not too, that it was a bad idea) evidently, they did not listen and the branch the two were swinging on broke, they fell down, their shoulders shaking, as Peter ran forward to them, thinking they got hurt badly and were sobbing, but turns out the idiots were just laughing, looking at each other and the cut that was bleeding right next to their mouths and laughing, Peter soon joined in on the laughing. (Their parents found them like this, and after cleaning them up and applying bandages they go a good scolding where Peter just said I told you so and a hug)

James (&Peter) being the only one who can call Marelene 'Leene'. She bits anyone else's head off, if they call her that

They have matching tattoos, with the other person's initial written on their wrists in morse code.

James likes to act as her big brother and she is all to happy to play the part as his younger sister who loves o annoy him.

James was the first person Marlene told that she liked girls and not boys (though James already had an inkling because, when 11 year old Marlene had dropped her glass of orange juice, haw dropped, on seeing Euphemia Potter in her black halter neck dress for her anniversary, it was when Marlene constantly ranted about how much she 'hated' Dorcas meadows in 3rd year, it was when she had accidentally kissed Mary MacDonald her roommate, and came crying to James) accepting such a huge part of herself was not at all easy for Marlene, growing up in a pureblood household, it was not easy for her to break the through her own internalised homophobia, but James was there for her every step of the way and it took time but soon the besties were often seen gossiping about their recent girl crushes, giggling over Amelia Selvyn from Slytherin or Mary Abbott from Hufflepuff.

James was the maid of honour at Marlene and Dorcas's wedding

James always peels Marlenes oranges for her , not matter what (because one time when they were 5 year old, marlene while peeling had squished the juice right in her eye so James does it for her always now)

Flying partners. (Sirius, James & Marlene are the best quidditch trio)

James always, always gives Marlene cheek kisses with a bye, whenever he leaves a room.

James also steals Marlenes crop tops.

Also when in 1st year James got no flowers or cards, he got a bit sad, so Marlene got a big bouquet of flowers delivered to him next morning, the smile she got in return was worth the 5 galleons she spent. And so started the tradition of Marlene getting James flowers every valentine's day ( even after they both had respective partners, the tradition continued till Marlene died and James got flowers for her grave)

So their friendship is like bubbles, fun lovely and beautiful, filled with cheek kisses, cuddles all the time, stealing hoodies and crop tops, and flowers.

James & Pandora

angle duo ( like not even kidding, you shouldn't look at Pandora and James when they are together because they shine so bright!!) (Sorry jk jk)

The two individually are like very mischievous like absolute chaos wreckers, but whenever they are together, it's like a switch has turned off, and there they are so calm, looked absolutely angelic.

Picnic/study dates by the lake during summers, with James braiding flowers in Pandora's hair. They also wear matching floral clothing.

Whenever Pandora gets ready, She always forgets to tie her shoelaces, like she just doesn't (a/n and yes it does happened with ppl my bf is literally always does), sometimes Barty Evan or Regulus remind her but it's such a common occurrence that they forget about it too. James whenever he sees this, would run over to her, tie her shoelaces, give Pandora a kiss on the cheek and walks away without saying anything.

James always, listens to Pandora's rambles about her recent weird plant with actual interst and fascination, like he doesn't listen to it just for the sake of listening or feel annoyed or weirded out by them, he asks valid question and shows genuine enthusiasm (One time Regulus was reading in the library while James and Pandora were discussing this rare and weird creature species, and Regulus was ready to punch James if he said anything bad to Pandora, but he just listened carefully and asked questions, Regulus fell more in love with that idiot that day)

Pandora and James the biggest magical creatures activists in the whole school (not eleves though, they were Regulus and Lily's domain and Werewolf Sirius') but these two were like always going on and on about the protection and misuse of magical creatures for animal testing or they products. Making posters or holding clubs for the same (for the smallest of creature like bowtruckles, flobberworms and etc)

Being an animagus, that too a stag, James loved the nature, and was often found taking walks in the forbidden forest at odd times, (whenever he wanted to clear his head) in his animagus or human form both, and so the forbidden forest was accustomed to his magical signature and actually welcomed him always with a warm guest of wind. James loved and respected the forest a lot and was friends with almost all the 'nicer' creatures like the tree fairies or whatever and when Pandora has figured out James was an animagus (he still doesn't know how she does because whenever he asks she always gives him a small smirk and walks away) So James often takes Pandora with him to the forbidden forest to meet and befriend the magical creatures.

James doesn't really bealive in divination or anything, but whenever Pandora says something he does believe and follows her. (If Pandora said his Mars was retrogading then it freaking was and he will wear that blue crystal) he always keeps any and all crystals Pandora gives him in a nice little box on his nightstand

They can often be seen wearing matching mistletoe or carrot earrings (James only wears them in one ear because he says it makes him look cool) (regulus won't admit it but it kinda does)

So really the two have a sweet and magical relationship filled with flowers in hair, carrot earrings, whispering fairies, tying shoelaces, cheek kisses, and hugs hugs hugs.

Remus & Lily

Chain smokers buddies.

Like those two sides of the nerds candy, the pink and purple one. (Remus is purple, Lily is pink)

Lily was actually the first person Remus admitted to that he liked Sirius as more than a friend. Lily didn't even let him finish the sentence before jumping up and down, hugging him and started to rant about all the planning she has down for their wedding already

Lily was not just a rule abiding know-it-all, she was just very shy and a bit introverted and like always scared about the magical world being just a crazy beautiful dream. And Remus saw it, because they were both kind of similar in that sense, Remus too always had a fear of all this not being real because as a werewolf he never thought he would have been able to be hear so the two relate on this and form a beautiful bond.

Remus being the first person Lily smoked a cigerate with (immediately coughing afterwords) At a gryffindor party when the crowd got to much and the noises too loud, Remus had stepped out in the balcony to have a ciggie when Lily had followed him out, she seemed lost in thought as he offered it to her, she gingerly took it and eyed it wearily before taking a hit. That was the first time of the many more when the two snuck out of a party to share a ciggerate on the balcony.

Absolute nerds, having bi monthly specified times for ranting about a book, being the only one understanding the pain of a character death.

A mutual love and appreciation for cherry lollipop

The cutest height difference.

Their friendship is full of ciggerate smoke, Chery flavour, forehead against chest, kisses in the hair, sobbing over fictional crushes and cuddles after an MCD.

James & Dorcas

Regulus bodygaurd duo.

Both of them have two things in common: Regulus & Marlene. And both are like insanely protective of both of them like when Jegulus told her about them dating, Dorcas did not utter a single word and just seized up James with her eyes for 4 minutes straight, she was also very VERY jealous of James because she thought he was dating Marlene. James did not intimidate Dorcas as she did to him (because my cutie patootie's glare gets activated only after someone has hurt his loved ones) but he did try to subtly very subtly, show his superiority as Marlenes first and longest friend with words thrown around like "remember Marlene when we were 5?" "Remember the time when you" "13 years as your best friend and I still-" and more, like bestie was just trying to show his dominance as her first friend is such an adorable way

In an alternate universe, when the two heard about Regulus being forced to be a de#theater, they got together, made a plan to take down voldemort and the DID take down voldemort

They have different opinions about almost EVERYTHING. Like James likes winter- Dorcas Summer, James likes sour food- Dorcas likes sweet, James is an early bird-Dorcas is a night owl these are like the tame ones but just imagine more extreme ABSOLUTELY contracting opinions. So the two have constant debates , sometimes including but not limited to pOWER POINT PRESENTATIONS(??) (James believes in Aliens, Dorcas does not, so my boy got a 100 something page binder that had clippings of all alien and ufos and related stuff 'sightings', it was also the first time when Dorcas somewhat agreed with his opinion)

Also they sometimes fly together, (it started with Marlene always bringing James to practice with Dorcas, because miss girlie was kinda shy to talk to Dorcas, and it ended with Marlene getting the girl and Dorcas and James flying together sometimes)

Now initially their friendship was just this yk, debates and flying when one day Mulciber showed up to breakfast with a black eye and kind of crooked nose, approached Dorcas, she was absolutely confused as to why he was coming towards her, when he stopped in front of her and simply said 'sorry' through gritted teeth, looked away to the gryffindor table, nodded towards James and rushed out of the hall. And for a week it was the same, every morning he would come up say sorry and get out, and would always rush out of whatever room Dorcas was in. She asked James about it who simply said "He said some shit about you, and no one says shit about my FRIENDS!" (It was Peter who told her later, giving a step by step detailed story of how Mulciber made the mistake of calling her Racist AND transph0bic comments, and how James broke his nose in a second) With a quick hug he went to class while Dorcas just stood there for a minute, because James was her friend, he actually liked her, he didn't spend time with he just because of Marlene or Regulus, no he genuinely liked her and cared for her and considered her his friend, (having grown and only child in big mansion with absent parents, Dorcas had 0 friends as a child and everytime she met someone who actually liked her or became friends with her, she got very emotional) so she felt like she could cry.

Matching alienhead necklace (it's like their thing)

Peter & Pandora

Weed Buddies.

Their friendship started with Pandora running a whole buisness of different substance to get high, all of which she created (like my girl was CANONICALLY a mad scientist so like yk) Peter had his first pot brownie made by Pandora, Eventually Peter was the first person she always tested the first batch of whatever she was making.

It was Pandora and Peter who devised a whole plan to get James and Regulus together including but not limited to, amortenia, quidditch, mistletoe and etc (the plan worked) and because the plan involved like a month of planning, they got closer than before.

They wear matching bracelets.

Both had the same penchant for chaos, like those silent killers. They were very unassuming and no one ever suspects them, but they are biggest chaos wreckers in Hogwarts. Their inflicted chaos isn't like the Marauders pranks, it's like telling, telling Susan that her boyfriend is in love with her sister or completely and absolutely lying to someone about any random thing for no reason but to create chaos

The blueprint of the saying, 'Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss.)

Getting high being the foundation of their friendship filled with pranking Evan, or gaslighting a pureblood about any muggle lore, or making the first believe that Norris cat, is actually Filch's wife turned cat by Merlins 7th reincarnation.

Sirius & Lily

Brother-Sister duo!!! Yeah they are not actually siblings, but their relationship very well might be one

So at first Lily didn't like Sirius THAT much, because of the whole Lily's rule abiding nature (a/n: more on this later) and Sirius and James 'pranksters' , so she didn't particularly care or like Sirius Black. This changed when sometime in the end of 4th year, Sirius came down to common room at 12 because James was still not back from wherever he was (he was most definitely with Regulus, they are 'just friend's for NOW tho) and he found Lily Evans, sitting on a couch, knees brought up to rest her head on, as she fidgeted with a ball and looked outside at the snowfall. He thought of going to tease the girl for staying up so late and breaking curfew, when he saw her glistening eyes and messed up hair and oh was she crying? He silently sat next to her and asked her if he could make her a hot chocolate, she accepted, he didn't ask anything further and gave her a side hug which she melted in and eventually the two fell asleep. This happened for a few times as Lily eventually started opening up about her extremely complicated and almost one sided relationship with her sister, while Sirius couldn't relate entirely (because the black brothers dynamic is just entirely something else MORE LATER) he did get it, he understood and he listened.

Lily gave him his first ever Vinyl (Remus gave him a record player) he didn't like the record that much but the vinyl was one of his most prized possession and had a stranger emotional connection to its songs that he listened to whenever he was sad.

When James and Lily dated for a grand total of 3 months(before Lily realised she much preferred the company of women) it was natural the two saw more of each other. And whenever they met, their bickering? The teasing? The hair pulling? The playful fights? Their banter wasn't of an old married couple but that of an older brother and younger sister duo

So their friendship was a lot like brother-sister siblings, filled with hot chocolate (with marshmallows) at night, with pulling each other's hair out of their ponytails, with stealing from the others plates, with braiding flowers in hair and also forehead kisses and hugs.

Sirius & Mary

THE resident makeup artists of gryffindor tower!! Mary is a lip makeup girlie Sirius is eye makeup!! Both of them initially bonded over makeup, judging others poor fashion choices (later one when Jegulus started dating, Regulus joined them in gossiping about fashion), exchanging of clothes, gossiping, giggling about their crushes (there was a time in 5th year when Mary also had a crush on Remus, but instead of getting jealous Sirius was often seen giggling and blushing over Remus Lupin, with Mary (it is also why many people speculated they dated, they NEVER did) so really, what started as a friendship based of mainly small materialistic things, it soon turned into a beautiful friendship

Mary was the one who told him that something like 'genderfluid' existed, to Sirius it was like the greatest revelation of the century, it was then Mary who helped him feel confident in his skin, his body, his gender

Sirius is the BEST wingman ever Whenever going out to any pubs or restaurants Sirius always chalked Mary up, always in encouraging her to get that girls number (Before Mary realised her feelings for Lily that is)

Sirius who is insanely overprotective of Mary. Which everyone sees, when that one time Mary's boyfriend raised his voice at her and Mary flinched, Sirius asked no question said nothing, just stood up and punched the guy square on his face (and for the following month that guy was the Marauders sole target for pranks)

All in all their friendship is just very cute, filled with liquid eyeliners, red eyeshadow, brown lip liner, shits and giggles and gossips AND drunken cuddles and goodbye hugs.

James & Lily

The cutest most softest duo.

Soft launching each other as FRIENDS, like everyone thought Lily Evans wouldn't even give James the time of her day but lo and behold, there she is supporting James during quidditch match, and there she is silently taking shepherd's pie from James dinner plate, and there she is posting random photos of a boy she never shows the face of (untill one day she did, with a picture of her and Mary kissing with the boy beaming in background, the random boy is James)

Their friendship dynamic is very cute (like the vibe is very flowers and sunshine yk) and in the starting Lily disliked James a bit because, well she thought he was a narcissistic idiot, but she later, eventually (over the course of years actually) she realised that he wasn't just that, being Marlenes best friend, and having sm mutual friends, the two did spend time together, and that is when Lily saw him, actually saw him. She saw behind the whole jock image he has set up, James Potter was actually a biiig cutie, she saw him always taking shephards pie in his plate, even if he won't eat it but for Lily, she saw him peeling oranges or cutting up apples for Marlene and Remus when they forget to eat food, she saw him enacting elaborate and dramatic plays for the 1st & 2nd years when there's a particularly bad weather and they are scared, she saw him going to Remus' class after the full moon,(sometimes while missing his own classes too) to take notes for him, she saw him annotating a book and blushing while gifting it to Regulus, she saw him smile and laugh ,she just saw him, and she realised why everyone called him the sun. And so their friendship started, because she saw the genuine and nice person James is

James and Lily shared a common problem, not being able to express the 'negative' emotions they feel, so when the two felt angry or upset or something the two Painted. Just a canvas infront of them a paint brush dipped in God knows what color and splash, splash, splash on the canvas. The two weren't even the slightest bit good in art, merlin no, the just stole Siri's art supplies and absolutely butchered them (he was really good in art, and didn't mind his art supplies getting spoiled by them) Painting together was kind of like their escape, the two often met after lunch of breakfast to splash some paint around, seeing each other's horrible creation often got a smile on their faces.

Forehead kisses by James.(!!)

So the two had an adorable dynamic filled shared shepherd's pie, sunkissed selfies, paint stains, piggy back rides, and forehead kisses.

Woooow, this was supposed to be a silly little bullet points point but tuned into a 3k+ shitpost???

(PS: can you tell that I love writing about James??? Like yes the other boys have relationship with the other girls too, I just like wiring about James the most and I wrote about James the most :))

(PSS: sprinkle of Jegulus and MarlIly for you to enjoy<3)

[jomiddlemarch]

The Duchess and the Diamond

The ballroom was grand, lit with a vast quantity of candles so that it shone bright as a summer’s noon, but the two women spoke as if they were concealed by a moonless midnight’s shadows.

“Has Lady Maria lost all sense of decorum?” Lady Fletcher positively hissed behind her gently fluttering ivory fan.

“I don’t know what you mean, Agnes,” Lady Shepherd replied. She had an inkling, of course, but it was always better to draw Agnes out as she made the most diverting remarks when she was either indignant or patronizing, and by her tone and the incline of her head, her en tremblant hair combs trembling quite noticeably, the current situation was a perfect confluence. “Lady Maria might be said to be somewhat eccentric, everyone would agree—there is not one lobster patty in sight and she hasn’t served ratafia for the past year and her taste in lace, well—”

“You know very well what I mean, Lydia. I mean that, that man—”

Here Lady Fletcher gestured almost boldly in the direction of the man in question, the object of much attention, curiosity and no little degree of scorn from the high sticklers. 

“You mean Lord Miller?” 

“Even his name speaks to his common origins,” Lady Fletcher said, sniffing in rapturous condescension. “Miller? How might anyone purport to be a member of the Ton with such a surname? What’s next, Lord Cook? Viscount Clerk?”

“Prinny is likely to say his royal favor is enough,” Lady Shepherd replied. “And then, the man is prodigiously wealthy, captured a half-dozen ships and has three battlefield promotions. Though I grant you, he does not quite look the part—”

They both glanced at where Lord Miller stood, a solemn and solitary figure flanked only by a potted palm. While there could be no complaint made as to the cut of his coat and pristine knot of his cravat, there was no denying a certain raw power, a rough-hewn quality to his features, his complexion bronzed, his stance one of a ship’s captain, his gaze accustomed to searching for the North Star and any enemy on the horizon. He was the furthest thing from a dandy one could imagine, whether he wore a properly powdered wig or not.

“No, he does not,” Lady Fletcher said. “To think someone of his stature was granted the wardship of Lady Elinor Ramsay—a Duke’s granddaughter!”

“Impoverished, though,” Lady Shepherd pointed out. “Lord Miller’s evidently declared he’ll dower her well from his own coffers, there’s not the least hint of any impropriety, save what she causes herself. She’s quite a hoyden, she’s been through three governesses in the past six weeks according to my lady’s maid. Miss Mischief, she’s called among his staff, though I cannot say they fully disapprove of her.”

“She hasn’t a chance of making a good marriage with only Lord Miller to sponsor her, no matter how well he dowers her and how many teas and balls he can convince Lady Maria to organize on her behalf,” Lady Fletcher said. 

“You cannot have heard then?” Lady Shepherd said, leaning in slightly. Lady Fletcher would not care for being the one who must admit ignorance, but the prospect of gossip about Lord Miller was too tempting to refuse. 

“Do go on, Lydia, it’s quite rude of you to tease.”

“Lord Miller is determined to marry this Season and marry well enough that his new bride might provide entrée for Lady Elinor. He had hopes of Lady Carmichael, as he served with her brother, but then she was compromised by that horrid viscount, Cord or Gordon or somesuch, the one who looks most terrifyingly like a mushroom, and Lord Miller had to step aside, as he could not rescue Lady Carmichael and ensure his ward’s acceptance in good society,” Lady Shepherd explained.

“Poor Tess,” Lady Fletcher remarked with what sounded like genuine sympathy. “The viscount is known to have a rather weak constitution—she may retreat to her Scottish holdings and hope a harsh winter carries off the scoundrel or whatever is passing for cuisine among the Highlanders. She would have been wasted on Lord Miller though—”

“They had some affinity, but it’s irrelevant, as she’s due to marry in a fortnight,” Lady Shepherd said.

“I suppose Lady Maria and the Duke of Wesley are determined to help Lord Miller secure a wife,” Lady Fletcher said. “The Duke considers him a brother, after all.”

“As much as they may, I’ve heard. Lord Miller is very proud and brusque. But the Duke’s valet found a man for Lord Miller, so that he might appear well-turned out in company. My maid says when he’s at home, he goes about in his shirtsleeves and a scuffed pair of Hessians,” Lady Shepherd said. 

“He hasn’t the hands for a quizzing-glass, that’s most evident,” Lady Fletcher tittered. 

“He holds the ribbons of his curricle light enough,” Lady Shepherd replied.

“Shall that attract him a charming and wellborn bride? I shouldn’t think so,” Lady Fletcher said. 

“It may attract her brother or father. He’s a fine stable of horses,” Lady Shepherd said.

“It almost sounds as if you’d entertain a suit for your Flora,” Lady Fletcher said, an eyebrow raised in skeptical inquiry.

“Her father might. I shouldn’t risk it. Flora’s a dear but she’s rather timid and it would be like pairing a canary with a falcon,” Lady Fletcher said. “Besides, if we did, think of the disappointment of the Ton—everyone is so looking forward to seeing Lord Miller run amok on the marriage mart. We may even learn if he’s capable of waltzing—”

“I assure you he’s entirely, eminently capable,” Lady Maria said, having approached the party from the rear, a military maneuver she’d learned from her great-aunt, a woman renowned for her stratagems, her cutting tongue, and her collection of bejeweled turbans which she’d taken to at age thirty and had worn despite any variance in fashion for the remainder of her life. To be so confronted by their hostess was an indication that they’d grown too engrossed with their conversation or too comfortable with their positions, forgetting that even the hint of a scandal could topple the most sterling reputation unless one was an original or a Duchess. As neither lady fulfilled either category, they both pursed their lips in the apologetic simper that was required to show their pretense at remorse.

“One might expect it of a sea-captain,” Lady Shepherd hazarded. “I believe they must be quite nimble on board. There is an excessive quantity of rope and one hardly ever sees a senior Naval man missing a lower limb. They do speak of sailors dancing jigs and whatever a hornpipe is, surely a commander must master the steps as well.”

��Lord Miller would be glad of your confidence,” Lady Maria replied in such a tone and with such a glance as to ensure both of her listeners understood she meant the opposite. “He is indeed everything accomplished, however stern he may appear, and any wise young lady would be fortunate to receive his offer.”

“But that assumes the young ladies this Season are wise, when I do believe I have never seen a sillier, giddier collection of misses presented to the Queen,” Lady Fletcher said, meaning to pounce upon Lady Maria’s remark and regain some superiority. Lady Maria was unperturbed, her gloves unwrinkled, her hem kissing the polished floor with the greatest elegance possible.

“If Lord Miller intended to consider only those young ladies making their debut, that might perhaps be a dilemma. As it stands, he has imposed no such restriction, only seeking a wife worthy of his hand and well-suited to the guidance of his ward,” Lady Maria said. “He is quite devoted to Lady Elinor, for all that she taxes his patience; one cannot resist her liveliness and she shows every sign of being deemed her year’s diamond.”

“Lady Elinor? A diamond of the first water?” Lady Fletcher exclaimed. “You would make such a prediction?”

“I would make such a wager,” Lady Maria said. It was widely known Lady Fletcher regularly overspent her pin money and would likely have gambled away her family estate; she would not be able to decline Lady Maria’s proposition and Lady Shepherd would not keep the exchange to herself. It would be the choicest gossip of the night’s ball, unless there was an impromptu betrothal between crusty, long-time bachelor Earl Nicholas and the sprightly Honorable Frances Bartlett, an event so unlikely they would not even record it in the betting book at White’s.

“What stakes?” Lady Fletcher asked.

“I know they say ladies must never offer anything of great value, confining ourselves to flower cuttings or ices at Gunter’s, but when I gamble, I prefer for it to be worth my while. As I far outrank you, I shall stake a favor, to be called in at the time of your choosing. On your part, I think it is only fitting you stake your diamond parure—”

“The Fletcher diamonds?” Lady Shepherd exclaimed. Lady Fletcher had turned a peculiar color that resembled old whey and emphasized the somewhat heavy hand that had rouged her cheeks.

“Diamonds for a diamond, what could be more poetic? More apt?” Lady Maria said.

“I don’t think—” Lady Fletcher began.

“Naturally, if you are not sanguine about the wager, you needn’t make it, though I’d expect you to offer your vocal support to Lady Elinor and Lord Miller,” Lady Maria said.

“I’m confident the chit won’t be anything like the Season’s diamond. Nor even an original,” Lady Fletcher said. “I’d go a step further and say I wager Lord Miller cannot become engaged to a member of the Ton before Lady Elinor’s presentation to the Queen.”

“What an intriguing elaboration,” Lady Maria said. Lady Shepherd thought that Lady Fletcher ought to blanch at their hostess’s tone, but arrogance had restored her complexion. The diamonds at her throat and earrings sparkled and Lady Shepherd wondered how they might look on Lord Miller’s ward.

“I take it you accept?” Lady Fletcher said.

“Gladly,” Lady Maria said. “What a very delightful Season this promises to be!”

This fic is for @tessa-quayle who deserves to be having a better day!

[thereader-radhika]

Sita in Ashoka Vanam - The Reality of Nandini's Luxurious Life

In Ponniyin Selvan, many gardens are compared to mythological gardens like Nandana vanam, Madhu vanam and Ashoka Vanam but there is only one garden like the Ashoka Vanam of Ravana, built between buildings.

They went into an extension of the palace that jutted out into the garden, a latha mandapam. It was built like a passage, to link two huge palaces.

There is only one person who perpetually stays in the 'Ashoka Vanam'- Nandini. Periya Pazhuvettaraiyar too notices that his wife is always outside the palace.

Why did she often sit by herself in the latha mandapam? What for? . . . One more question rose in his mind: what was she doing there when it was well past midnight?

In fact, Nandini is never shown inside her husband's palace except when she is with other people like Kundavai. Pazhuvettaraiyar, Ravidasan, Vanthiyathevan, Kandan Maran, Aditha Karikalan . . . all meet Nandini in this gazebo.

Nandini's state didn't go unnoticed even by the maids of Pazhuvettaraiyar.

Once two maids came to the back of the palace. They saw the uprooted trees strewn around the garden. "Adada! It looks like the Ashoka Vanam destroyed by Hanuman, doesn't it?" said one. "If our Sita Devi had been here, she would have felt very sad", replied the other.

Nandini's meeting with Vanthiyathevan in the gazebo draws heavily from the imagery of the Ramayana episode of Hanuman meeting Seetha in the Ashoka Vatika, with her maid sleeping in the corner and Vanarkula veeran Vanthiyathevan complaining that people call him 'kapi'(monkey). At the same time, it is contrasted by Nandini's attitude and her extravagant attire.

Nandini too compares herself to Sita directly and indirectly.

Let them talk, Manimekalai. They spoke ill even of the great Sita Devi. And what did Sita lose because of them?

Whatever it is don’t mention that I am the wife of Pazhuvettaraiyar. I am not his wife . . . If a girl is forcibly abducted and brought home will she become the abductor’s wife by default?

Periya Pazhuvettaraiyar isn't as foolish as his behaviour suggests and deep within he too has an inkling of what is going on.

She kept talking about fasts and austerities but had never explained what they really were. It seemed like a ruse, the kind practised by cunning women one read about in stories.

All this can be contrasted with the big garden in Kundavai's backyard, where princesses are always dancing and singing. While there is a swan couch in Nandini's gazebo, Kundavai has a swan boat which lets her travel freely and openly.

It is questionable if Nandini even gets adequate food as she is always lying about undertaking several viratam and nombu (that is, fasting and fasting). The only relief is that Periya Pazhuvettaraiyar doesn't spend much time with her and she could be sneaking in some snacks or fruits.

The status of Pazhavoor Ilaya Rani doesn't shield her from the barbs of Kundavai.

I’ve often insulted her and made fun of her after she came back as the wife of the old man of Pazhuvoor.

It doesn't offer much protection against perverts like Kandan Maran and Parthipendran.

Blinded by passion, Kandan Maran grasped her hand and stammered, "I will do anything for you."

While he spoke, Parthibendran suddenly clasped Nandini's hands and placed them on his eyes.

To be frank, she is scared to even travel in the same boat as her husband fearing that he would do something to her.

Basically, the only 'privilege' that Nandini gets are jewellery and clothes.

The whole country knows that the Junior Queen of Pazhuvoor well known for her beauty is also fond of beautifying herself with the finest of dresses and jewels . . .Poor man, Periya Pazhuvettaraiyar! . . . He does not know about the fire that’s constantly burning in my chest.

Nandini's luxurious life, what she boasts to others and what others accuse her of, is mostly a myth! Other than exquisite jewellery and beautiful clothing, there is nothing pleasant about it.

[umitvar]

{ alisha boe, 28, demi female, she/them } we are so glad to see you safe, CROWN PRINCESS ANETTE OLDENBURG of NORWAY! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are SHARP and OBSERVANT enough to handle it. just don’t let your DETACHEDNESS bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU ARE A HIDDEN BENEFACTOR, SECRETLY PAYING OTHERS TO LEARN SECRETS.

BIOGRAPHY

you are quiet. you are a pair of eyes always watching, taking every little detail in. information is everything to you, for you cannot afford to get caught unprepared a second time.

you take in the threads on the clothes of the ambassador sent to your attention, the state of the paper that's held in their calloused hands. how the sigil is pressed onto the paper, wax having dripped and then dried down.

you watch the maids that come and leave, the cooks, the guards. you do what you must do with calculated ease and decorum, yet in your head, you calculate the next move. when to push your bishop, and when to protect your king.

you wait for your rightful place on the throne. it is coming. you will do what you must to be prepared for everything and more. this is what you were born for, and you believe you deserve it. you deserve to rule, and you will do it well.

-

anette is the oldest child of the oldenburg family, born and raised as a royal through and through. many call her the perfect example of a princess, and many others, when not within her earshot, liken her to an emotionless statue. there are more colorful terms that have reached her ears, but she carefully listens. not the one to act out at the simplest glimpse of disrespect, she calculates, thinking of a step ahead. from a young age, anette is taught that this is a cutthroat world, and for a while, she is arrogant enough to believe she is prepared for it all.

until — her father disappears. leaving behind that god-awful letter that throws everything off balance. for the first time, anette has trouble schooling her expression. asks everyone to leave, with only the most trusted ones left behind. she reads it, over and over again. then once more. mulls over it in the middle of the night, in the morning, trying to find a secret message, anything to make some sort of sense out of it. she can't. something bitter swims in her stomach, and she tries to push down the worry she feels for her father. thinking he must have planned for all of this. and that he never thought to tell her at all.

it's up to her to sort out this mess, and it's all a very precarious game of tightrope. in the past three years, she has managed to set out an intelligence network of her own. paying those with specific sets of skills, for more knowledge, and for more secrets. her quiet eyes also watch a figure, and anette's reason for her sponsorship lies less with her agenda to rise to the throne, but how she is so intrigued by her person. she keeps this close to her heart, and pretends she has nothing to do with it all.

information keeps flowing in. the news of her father returning reaches her ears — and for the second time, it is quite the shock. her advisors tell her that maybe, she will get the answers she needs. beneath the hurt, there is worry, and relief — and then the reality of all that happened hits. she does not trust her advisors in this very instance. deep down, anette has an inkling this is going to make everything more complicated.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Hey! Hope you're doing awesome! Feel free to ignore if this has been asked before.

I'm ony 7th read of Consquences. I found it from the tik tok edit and absolutely binged it in a night on ao3. It is a painfully beautiful and tragic story that had me gripped. I literally couldn't sleep reading through it.

I was reading through Chapter 4, the part where Alanna gives the Maidservant the tea and found myself wondering why Aemond was so reckless with her alongside her.

That started me on a thinking spiral of what if Hedi knew, if she told Aemond under different circumstances, if Alicent knew. Anything that could have kept the maidservant alive! I didn't have much faith in medieval abortions since it was mentioned lol

Your reader is so well written. It really feels like she's a part of the world, if that makes sense. I felt for her and wanted her to get away from all that safe.

Everything about this story was amazing. It really pulls you in. You're an AWESOME writer!

Oh hello! Thank you for this ask 🥹

Assuming you mean reckless as in, he didn't consider getting her moon tea, I guess my reasoning is, in this particular fic I went for a more self-indulgent Aemond in the sense that, he's a prince, so he's not too bothered about that side of things, as long as it's sorted out. I suppose he would just kind of assume that because Aegon's maids have been taken care of before, that the maids have plans amongst themselves. I just find it difficult to believe that Consequences Aemond would go out of his way to get her moon tea.

Hedi definitely had an inkling something was going off, but when she found the maidservant it was just too late 😔 if Hedi had known I'd imagine she would have gotten some properly brewed moon tea, seeing as Hedi was around during Dyana.

100% if Alicent knew she'd flip her lid and would've done the same thing and got her some properly brewed moon tea. But having the Queen find out was definitely not in maidservant's best interest, since she wanted to keep her job.

Thank you SO much for reading 🥰 and for saying you think it could be a part of the story! It's probably cos she is just...nobody, isn't she? Fades into the background 😭 thank you again, this ask was beyond sweet ♥️♥️♥️

[attourney-at-lycan]

Hey can you do hcs for Zane x Gene in mystreet

FUCK YEAH

dude them in mystreet was so funny, i loved their little rivalry in the maid cafe arc (?? i didnt get far during that arc) which is what i'm basing the rest of my hcs on

i can see a whole "you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up" "you wna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid" thing going on w/ them

gene initially just wanted to piss zane off bc he thought it was funny. he just loves getting a reaction out of zane, espcially w/ how easy it is to do so. that's a little gay gene idk.. :/

zane thinks gene is insufferable, probably, definitely but he notices that despite being an asshole he does seem to have a line he doesn't cross and when he realizes things might get serious he immediately stops. he notices how much gene has changed and matured over the years compared to how reckless and relentless in highschool. also, as someone who was heavily disliked by the majority of his friends due to his own personal issues, he can understand ppl change

still he cannot believe he looked up to this mf back in hs.

idk how much it'd take for zane to fall for gene or at least have feelings for gene other than pretty much them getting to rlly know each other but when he does, it's definitely a lot of denial bc there's no way he'd actually have such an impression on this dumbass right?? RIGHT???

if gene gets an inkling, or a confirmation that zane has feelings while gene is absolutely head over heels, he will begin Courtship (tm) /lh

courtship being: doing small favors, making sure zane is taking care of himself, finishing his sentence to annoy zane who's tRYING TO FUCKING TALK!!!, constant compliments, talking about what he likes about zane to other ppl- idk just small things that accumulate and make zane feel good internally while being in constant denial lol

i loved their rivalry in lovers lane which pretty much fueled this bit of hcs

i also love gene being a cocky asshole but still being extremely sweet about it

[legendtraineremily]

When writing characters and giving them depth, I like to use a little method I was given a few years ago—write a mock “Q&A” bit with your character and see how they’d react to certain questions.

So here’s my “Q&A” with Donel Hawkfeather, the bard. (Bolder text is the “interviewer.”)

So Donel, where are you from exactly?

-Ah! Quite the question actually. I was born in a small hamlet you’re to have never heard of near a good school of mages and magical arts…which you’re also to have never heard of. Ay.

Ah! but my most recent “home” that I’d claim was in the grand city Malgar, formerly under management of a cult of Necromancers and freed, in part, by yours truly. It was there, in my quarters in the castle, that my study into the arcane lead to my banishment into this lovely realm.

Indeed. Well, next question: when and how did you decide to become a bard?

-Hmm, now that… that’s actually a simple story, come to think of it. I was about 13, I believe, when an older bardic chap by the name of Alvius Aria came by our village and did some performances outside the tavern. The one tavern in town, mind you! But his words and music hit so deeply into my soul I couldn’t help but sing quietly to his tune. It was…enrapturing!

My parents would never approve of it, thought I. But to be a wandering minstrel wooing whomever I please, letting my words become power the moment they leave my mouth…Ah! did it strike a chord (if you’ll forgive the pun) for me! I worked hard to conceal my desire as well as to prepare funds to apply to the bardic college of that local mage’s school I mentioned was nearby. And it has certainly been worth it, if I do say so myself.

Hmmm, quite. Now tell us, you have a few disguises you use, which are your favorites?

-Oh, I thought that’d be obvious. My “Old Hawkfeather” is my go-to! He’s what I imagine myself to be in, oh, many decades from now. He was also my first passable disguise, and the one I’ve used most often. Who would suspect that Donel, son of the local—ah, um, well, “community busybodies” was no more than lost to some errant questing rather than, “ooh shudder—a bard!” And that bard that just came through town today, he’s an older chap and certainly wouldn’t have any inkling of any young whippersnappers lost to adventuring beyond what’s in his songs!

Would you say you have any disguises that you dislike?

-Well, no, of course not! I mean, if I don’t like a disguise, I simply don’t develop or use it. However…there was one time that I had to dress as a woman (a maid specifically) in order to infiltrate a fine party wherein a certain duke was planned to be murdered. I don’t know about some individuals, but I found it most unpleasant. I may not be the strictest definition of “manliness,” but the maid costume and performance…shudder…not me.

Perhaps going along that vein, many people would like to know how you identify? If you don’t mind the question. As a person, romantically…?

-Oh! Yes! No problems there at all! I am a half-elven man who finds both men and women attractive. However, I find most men to be boorish lunks with nothing more than, um, attractive features, you could say.

No, women are far more to my desires, and that’s not to be objectifying! Women are amazing! Take Elowina for example: she’s got gorgeous eyes, the strength necessary to crack a skull bare-handed and the ability to drink most anyone under a table and come out with little more than a short hangover! Truly inspiring and, dare I say, enamoring. Don’t tell her I said any of that though! I want to live.

Excellent, thank you!

[rogue-of-heart-classpecting]

The rogue is like... someone who tries to ignore part of themselves. It's similar to the Page (which I identified as in high school), who thinks they know who they are but they really are misreading what's going on or there's something else they haven't learned about themselves yet. The rogue has an inkling of their deeper self, but they avoid thinking about it or acknowledging it. It's kind of like being a trans egg or something, except the trans could be anything. In some ways, the Rogue knows EXACTLY who they are in regards to the things about themselves they're comfortable displaying. In middle school, I had no problem telling everyone I had ADHD or that I liked Hetalia and Homestuck and fuckin pretending to be the characters in some sick and twisted never-ending LARP. But I was NOT gay. And NO ONE was allowed to say a word about it to me. Or I get super angry at them and shut down and avoid talking about it or speaking in general. I would think, "I wonder who my best friend has a crush on. I wonder if it's ME??? :O :) hehe!! oh fuck why would I like that? That's so weird never think about that again." And I would like shake the idea out of my head. And ignore it for another day. This is where the Page's overconfidence in their wrongness overlaps with the Rogue's pathological hiding of their issues.

I would say, to some extent, every Heart player, and every Sburb player in general, has to learn who they are over the course of the game. The story is ultimately about growing up and changing and embracing yourself. Most players we see learn about themselves and gain self-awareness they lacked at the beginning of the game. Even an Heir of Heart would learn something unexpected when they start embodying and "becoming" Heart. Like how John escaped the entire narrative. Even the windy thing, like, he had no idea he could do that before.

Heart players that understand themselves BETTER (not completely): Maid, Mage, Sylph, Thief, Heir, Witch

Heart players that understand themselves LESS WELL: Page, Knight, Rogue, Seer, Bard, Prince

would you define heart players by "knows themselves really well"? is "knowledge about themself" something all heart players have?

No! This is a really good question. Heart players' identities are a major theme in their lives, but that doesn't necessarily mean they know what their identity is. It all depends on their class.

I would say a player who has a really good sense of their own self would be the Heir. This person starts out with basically mastery over their aspect (as far as possible before sburb). They would intimately know who they are and what they want. They would also know and be able to anticipate how they feel in any situation.

Someone who DOESN'T know who they are is a Bard of Heart. This is probably the most identity-lacking class possible for Heart. Until they "snap," they won't know a lot of things about themselves, anything they want, who they are when no one's watching, etc. Once they snap, they can start building that identity. It might even start with them discovering something about themselves that they didn't know before.

Great question! If you guys want any more information, you can ask about how class describes your relationship with your aspect.

[never-ending-love-vn]

18 days of holiday cheer: calendar

wc: 1222 platonic oc Felix x reader x oc Kei warning: mentions of child neglect, male pronouns for reader

“Why is everyone suddenly so busy?” You questioned as you watched the maids in your palace hurry around, blankets and baskets in their arms. You took a bite of the macaron in your hand as you did, your eyes tracking as they exited one door and entered another.

You didn’t have a lot of maids in your palace, just a handful. Enough to take care of you, you suppose. In fact, you didn’t even have a lot of knights either, just the two that were always accompanying you and then a couple of spares.

It wasn’t always like that. Before your debut ball, there was even less. Back then, you practically only had Cassandra, your nanny and wet nurse, and one knight to guard the whole castle.

Now that you were a bit in the spotlight as the youngest son of the Grand Duke, your father had increased your servants to the bare minimum.

“It’s because it’s about to be Ayanguin.” Felix stated a-matter-of-factly, his navy hair just as ruffled as usual despite his rather pristine servants’ uniform. He held a raspberry tart and, after answering you, he took a bite only to make a rather sour face.

You laughed, swinging your legs a bit as you watched him “What does that mean?”

“It’s the Sun God’s path to the Moon God.” Felix explained as he placed his half eaten tart down on a napkin “The palace has to prepare all of the lights and the decorations and such.”

Felix then added after he pushed his glasses up “We’re supposed to celebrate the days coming up to the Sun God’s journey to the Moon God by turning off the lights and then slowly turning more and more lights the closer to the day they met.” 

You listened intently, nodding every now and then to let him know you were paying attention. Then, when he was done, you frowned “We’ve never done that before.”

At this, Felix looked around a bit conspiratorially. When the coast seemed clear, he hurried over and climbed onto the creaky settee next to you, leaning close so both you and Kei, who had been sitting silently next to you, could hear him “Well, it’s bec’us you’ve debuted now.”

You had an inkling it had been because of that.

Kei, however, still seemed rather confused. He stared at the both of you, his emerald eye not covered by his eyepatch jumping from you to Felix and then back.

Felix seemed to notice this because he sighed rather raggedly and then worriedly looked at you “Well, the maids were saying that the only reason he was doing all of this stuff now was ‘cus all the nobles are paying attention to you.”

You wished they wouldn’t. It felt bad to receive all of these things just because you’ve piqued the interest of a bunch of strangers.

Then again, your father has always been an enigma to you. You never really saw him enough to know what he was like, much less really understand why he did anything.

“So, what’s this celebration like anyway?” You decided to change the subject as you leaned over to retrieve not just a macaron for you but also for Kei.

He accepted the macaron happily but the entire time he nibbled on it, his eye stayed right on you. He was always like that, so hyper-attentive of you. You wished you could get him to relax a little bit but he never allowed himself rest unless you forced him.

Felix was none-the-wiser and simply leaned back, his eyes fluttering close as he tried to remember everything from the top of his head “Well, there’s the three nights of darkness where nobody’s permitted to light even a single match.”

“Then, after that, they’re going to set lanterns out in the lake at the back of the palace. A few visitors will come to see that, I think.” Felix then said, his finger tapping at his leg as if it would help him jog his memory “Last year, they only did it at the lake near the main manor but now they’ll do it at the smaller lake too.”

“And then, after that, they’ll slowly decorate the palace with lights. We won’t light all of them but we’ll turn more of them on the closer it gets. And then, on the 25th, we light everything up and we make it as bright as possible.” Felix gave a final nod, satisfied with his explanation.

He then turned to you, a gentle smile on his face. “For us, I think there’s going to be a ball on that day and they’ll award one of the young lords the crown of light.”

“How’d you know about all this stuff?” You mumbled, your brain trying to remember all of the details and trying to imagine all of it “You’re here all the time.”

“I just heard about it.” He shrugged, his answer vague but his expression happy.

Felix was always like that too. Just like Kei, he tended to follow you around, always trying to find ways to be useful to you or always worrying about you.

It made your heart warm to have the two of them by your side.

“And then what? What happens after the ball?” You prompted, retrieving another macaron but, this time, you grabbed one for Kei and Felix.

Felix chewed on it for a little bit before answering “Then there’s the three days of light and the two days of darkness before the first sunrise of the new year.”

“Some of it seems pretty simple enough.” You grumbled a little, turning the macaron in your hand over “Why weren’t we allowed to do anything before?”

“Something about the fireplaces…” Was all Felix wanted to say and, even then, he mumbled it as he ate the other half of his macaron.

You figured Felix thought you’d just take that reason at face value but, actually, you knew exactly what that meant.

The main manor didn’t exactly give you enough things and the prince’s palace, your palace, was always lacking in one thing or another. 

You knew for a fact that the maids already had to calculate how much firewood to use every night so you’d have enough to last all winter.

It probably would’ve taken too much firewood to light all the fireplaces as much as possible for days and nights on end. That and you doubted your palace could truly afford the decorations it would need to light the entire building up.

No, the reason you couldn’t have participated was because your father didn’t permit you. That was fine, you suppose, even if he had no reason other than he didn’t like looking at you.

You heard the whispers, people murmuring, saying you looked too much like your late mother, how you’d been the cause of her death, how the King wasn’t even permitted at her deathbed to witness her dying breath.

You pushed that thought aside the same way you pushed your tears back in. You grabbed three more macarons (the last on the table) and gave one each to your two best friends.

You never got treats like this before and it made you happy to share it with the two closest people to your heart.

“I’m excited about it! Sounds like fun!”