#I also accept criticism as feedback ^^

[hellaverse-critical-confessions]

Fuck it. Here's the oneshot I've mentioned

Summary: We're two weeks after the events of "Exes and Oohs", and Millie has been kidnapped. She's grudgingly enjoying solitary confinement in the world's dustiest yet simultaneously most pristine dungeon when an unlikely face from her past comes sauntering in; against her protests he decides to stick by like a leech, and they end up having a surprisingly genuine conversation years in the making.

Not a confession and… kind of critical?? Might qualify as a fix-it?? Honestly just wanted to give Millie the lore she was robbed of in that episode, as well as do a fun little show-don't-tell exercise. (Also, Chaz has a character now beyond walking penis gag. Sort of.)

[cosmogyros]

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[byuno-o]

RETROGRADE PLANETS IN NATAL CHARTS.

NOTE: PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS. HENCE, MIGHT NOT BE APPLICABLE FOR EVERYONE. ONLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT. HENCE, DISCRETION IS ADVISED. DO PROVIDE FEEDBACKS, I LOVE IT. :)

MERCURY IN RETROGRADE

If you have mercury in retrograde in your natal chart, you might deal with aversion when it comes to verbal, direct communication. Putting your ideas and thoughts into clear sentences might not be your forte. However, I've read somewhere that people with Mercury Rx, have really good intuition. I can vouch for this since my brother has this in his 11th house, and boy has he saved himself from bad influences countless times purely because he could sense BS right away. People with Mercury Rx, however, possess a unique way of communicating their ideas and thoughts. They don't necessarily use art, but just different words and their brains are often configured differently. They might see logic in things that others can't, and somehow, everything works fine for them. These people also tend to be profound thinkers and internalize their life philosophies instead of using those philosophies for other, unlike forward mercuries. People with forward mercuries-even the ones with debilitated mercuries use their words and ideas in order to help others. while retrograde mercuries wants the betterment of self. Hence, seeing other perspectives can be difficult for them, and finding balance between conscious and callous communication can be hard. Retrograde mercuries have hard-hitting sense of humour which can be the result of unique communication style. Forward mercuries can choose their words carefully, but retrograde mercuries often cannot, for this is their lesson for their present life.

2) VENUS RETROGRADE

I see people with venus in retrograde having issues with their sense of self, which can be seen in their communication style and sense of humour. Overcompensating outwardly for lack of sensing lack of style and panache that forward Venus tend to possess, even the debilitated ones. yet they can't see their own unique flavour which goes against the conventions. A friend whose venus is in retrograde has the wildest love life in my group. Her standards are high, which stemmed from dealing with problematic, almost karmic relationships. There can be confusions regarding one's own opinion about self, likes, dislikes, and there can be a tendency to see oneself through other's judgements. Finance can be a hard to deal with, overspending can be a problem. Their lesson for their present life is to accept themselves the way they are, and love themselves before looking for love and validation elsewhere. The root cause of almost all of their problems is the lack of sense of strong self and self-validation which come first and foremost. That is the only one they can see their own uniqueness, and leverage it for their benefits.

3) MARS RETROGRADE

These people can deal with heavy procrastination, and lacks efforts when it comes to their dreams and goals. There can be a push and pull effect regarding their individuality. A cousin of mine has mars retrograde, and despite having his mars in Scorpio, he loathes adventures, and risks--and you can also add changes. while people with forward mars can be very courageous--even the debilitated ones, although they need immense pressure to make them feel agitated, people with mars retrograde rather suffer in silence than assert themselves. For them, action-orientation, and assertion can be the lessons for their present lives. However, I also think Mars in retrograde can make one very diplomatic and can make the person possess mercurial qualities. That same cousin have debilitated mercury, yet he sounds the most critical and logical among us when we have to fight for our food rights (jokes) against our grandparents. Rather than have a individualistic nature, these people can harness excellent group qualities. They can suffer through sex related traumas.

4) JUPITER RETROGRADE

People with Jupiter in retrograde may be raised with issues regarding self, religion and higher knowledge. Their viewpoints are very different, and may often come off as illogical. They care very cautious when it comes to voicing their opinions. However, they can possess a very twisted kind of luck. Since I have this, I can vouch for this. I may never get what I want, but what I need always finds me, Unlike people with forward Jupiter who may get what they want just like that. my brother has forward Jupiter in Cancer, and I have never seen a person as lucky as him. Brotha is protected by angels and our family. One order, and the whole family scrambles to obey him. While in my case, I just work hard and get the bare minimum, but the things I get always helps me at times. Getting higher knowledge is especially harder for people with Jupiter in Rx, and may deal with confusion regarding the validity of knowledge. People with jupiter in Rx also deal with lack of mentors and teachers needed to shape their personality and inner world, hence they become vagabonds when it comes to knowledge. It is only them they can rely on for a strong sense of self, hence they may go through hard time alone. It is not like they don't look for help, it's just help never comes, but rewards are worth the pain. There's always a tendency to question everything which may lead to paranoia and overthinking. Yet, they are overly self-righteous, causing relationships to falter. Their main lessons are to have faith in them, and build their unique perspectives.

5) SATURN RETROGRADE

People with saturn in retrograde tends to introspect a lot. The limitations they bear are often internalised. they tend to have problems with authority and authoritative figures, such as father and teachers and boss, yet there is a deep sense of responsibility and lack of discipline. I also have saturn retrograde in my natal chart and well, it is a blessing in disguise. to be honest. I do tend to disregard authority, but there were times when I was asked for help by some authoritative figures. Although I have a deep sense of responsibity, I lack the courage, the strategic mind and the general effort I need to fulfil my dreams, which is why this saturn retrograde is proving to be immensely helpful. There is a strong fear of failure, and the person's success is always delayed. Trust me, I know. While I work twice as hard as my friends, I am often the last person to taste any success. Same is happening with job hunt. I have read that this retrograde is strongly related to past life karma, and I think I might be deal with lessons regarding finance and material gain since I have Saturn in Taurus in 2nd house. These people often deal with loneliness, and the lack of communication from their side only add salt to injury.

6) URANUS RETROGRADE

While Uranus deals with rebellion and one's uniqueness, Retrograding Uranus may often lead to these aspects being internalised by the person. There may be a strong sense for rebellion and forging one's own path, but the person may lack the spine to do so--often relying on others to validate their uniqueness. Changes may come like tornados, ruining their very sense of being, and forcing them to refine everything again and again, until there no sense of old self is there. Unlike Pluto, Uranus retrograde often forces the person's outer world, and outer relationships to change. These people have heightened intuition which not only scares the outer world, but also force it to alienate the person. There is a strong need for rejecting tradition which might stop them from becoming the eccentric person they can be. Note, I am not using 'eccentric' in a negative way. I just think, people with Uranus Rx need to learn showcase their eccentric side to the world. so that innovation can be made. There's a huge between one accepting their eccentricity and showing the world who they actually are. If anything, I think Uranus in Rx is one of the best placements one can have for the sheer creativity it can bestow. These people must have been destined to become pioneers, but their fears of outer rejection had stopped them, hence they ended up with Uranus in retrograde in their present life. They are supposed to let go of the fear in order to fulfil their purpose.

7) NEPTUNE RETROGRADE

So, my other brother has mars, Uranus and Neptune in retrograde. And I kid you not, I have never seen someone so eccentric, so prideful yet so fearful, so disillusioned yet so full of himself till date.

For me, Neptune Retrograde is one of the worst placement one can have. This placement is not about the outer world, but breaking oneself to fill the world with happiness. people with Neptune Rx has to go through a whole journey of living in a illusionary world to become disillusioned and hate the real world, only to realise that there's more than pain and suffering in the world and it is not a utopia. these people have heightened intuition, only to never master it. They get fed with escapism illusion by the universe time and time again, for them to learn to exercise their intuition yet the fog in their mind becomes the biggest obstacle. For a long time, these people believe in, "my way or highway" and "all or nothing." Hence, when faced with failure and pain, they crumble and become disillusioned. Once they see the world as it is, they go through the spiritual quest of learning and unlearning the ways of the world. And acceptance of the worldy woes, and understanding that one can never change the ways of the world but the ways of human minds are the lessons these people have to learn. They have to make peace with the fact that there will pain and suffering, and this is what feels like to be humans. They have to learn to avoid escapism, and grab life by the balls and open their arms to the gifts of intuitions, detachment, art and healing.

8) PLUTO RETROGRADE

I see Pluto retrograde as an eagle which keeps gnawing onto one's guts while the person can do nothing but accept the eagle. The pain never goes aways. People with pluto Rx in their chart internalises every thought, every little or big change, causing them to go through intense overthinking and traumatic relationship changes. The world is never these people's friends. If you think having Pluto placements are tough, look at pluto Retrograde people. Another cousin of mine has this. And she is a control freak, with really great psychological insights. There's obssesion with every little thing, and fear of betrayal and others breaking their walls and trusts. These people live an intense karmic life. If they badmouth someone, they get tenfold of it. If they wish someone bad luck, they get ten fold of it. These people must have done something great or something very loathsome which needs heavy penance and great patience. These people are bound to become great. These people are supposed to learn the ways of the world and help change the world, but on a ground level. What I mean by that is, these people need to learn to accept their shadow side in order to help the ones who have lost their paths to attain goodness. I see people with Pluto retrograde as the ones who has to break a piece of themselves in order to fix others, since they constantly get their heart broken, and trust broken, and fears spitting on their faces until they overcome those fears, and they are constantly forced by the universe to bare themselves naked in order for the world to use their vulnerabilities. Yet, these people rise like phoenix, and continue the cycle until they realise that their higher purpose is to have faith in the ways of the universe and let it run its magic. Good things may take time, but are always worth the wait.

NOTE: I SEE RETROGRADES AS BLESSINGS IN DISGUISE. ALTHOUGH RETROGRADE PLANETS MAKE THINGS HARD, AND ALMOST UNATTAINABLE, HARD TIMES MAKE GREAT PEOPLE. THE TWISTS UNIVERSE PLAYS ON PEOPLE WITH NATAL RETROGRADE PLANETS ARE SUPPOSED TO PUSH THESE PEOPLE TO THEIR EDGES UNTIL THERE'S NOTHING THEY CAN BE FEARFUL OF. FOR GREAT CHANGES NEED GREATER HANDS.

ALRIGHT, DO LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THIS. AND I WELCOME CRITICISM AND HARD HITTING FEEDBACKS WITH OPEN ARMS. JUST MAKE SURE I DON'T HAVE TO SHOW MY FANGS, TOO. :) I LOVE GATHERING NEW INFORMATION, SO UNTIL THEN, MAY GOD BLESS YOU.

[pinkmoontaco]

It all started at a Set || KMG Pt.1

Pairing: Actor-Idol Mingyu x Actress-Idol Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance Summary: This story is a heartwarming slow-burn romance between Mingyu and Y/N, a senior idol. It begins with them being cast as co-stars in a drama where their contrasting personalities—Mingyu’s vibrant, outgoing nature and Y/N’s reserved, composed demeanor—become the catalyst for an unexpected connection. Throughout their journey, they face professional challenges, emotional conflicts, and growing feelings for one another. Author's Note: This is the second story of my series, "It All Started..." As I was writing, the story evolved into something much bigger than I initially imagined, so I decided to divide it into three parts to give it the attention and depth it deserves. To everyone who has supported my series so far, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your encouragement and feedback have been a driving force behind my writing, and I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on this part of the story. Stay tuned, because there’s so much more to come, and I promise the journey will only get more exciting from here. Thank you for being part of this adventure with me—I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed creating it!

If you have any requests for any member or any other groups feel free to do so

M.list Part one _ Part two _ Part three

Mingyu wasn’t sure what prompted him to accept the role this time. At first, it seemed like any other offer—another chance to showcase a different side of himself. But something about the script resonated with him on a deeper level.

The character's struggle to balance vulnerability and strength mirrored his own challenges in navigating fame. He felt an unspoken connection to the story, as if it was calling him to confront parts of himself, he had kept hidden.

Perhaps that’s why, despite his initial doubts, he agreed to take the leap. Maybe it was the persistent urging of his members, maybe it was his own curiosity, or maybe, just maybe, it was the script that had managed to tug at something deep within him. Either way, he found himself on the set of "Between Us," his first lead role in a drama, both nervous and excited.

The buzz around the project had been immediate, not just because of Mingyu but because of his co-star. Y/N, a senior idol, had been cast as the female lead. She was a name that carried weight in the industry—the leader of her group, a revered idol with an aura of mystery. Known for her icy demeanor and guarded nature, she seemed to embody mystery and restraint, creating an intriguing contrast to Mingyu’s radiant, extroverted charm. While her reserved nature drew admiration, it also set the stage for a fascinating interplay with Mingyu’s infectious energy, sparking curiosity about how their opposite temperaments might evolve together. It was a pairing that intrigued fans and critics alike.

When they met for the first table read, Mingyu was struck by how composed she was. She greeted him with a polite nod, her expression unreadable. Mingyu, ever the extrovert, tried to break the ice with a joke.

“Looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of time together,” he said, his signature grin in place. “I hope you’re ready for my bad jokes.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile playing at her lips. “I’ll brace myself,” she replied coolly before turning her attention to the script.

From that moment on, their interactions were polite but distant. On set, Mingyu would try to engage her in conversation, but Y/N kept her responses short. It wasn’t that she was rude; she just seemed... guarded. Mingyu couldn’t help but be intrigued. What was she hiding behind that composed facade?

As the weeks went by, they began filming scenes that required emotional depth and vulnerability. The plot of "Between Us" revolved around two people who initially clashed but slowly fell in love as they unraveled each other’s secrets. The parallels between the characters and their real-life dynamics didn’t escape Mingyu.

One evening, after a particularly intense scene, Mingyu found Y/N sitting alone by the set, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the scene.

“Hey,” Mingyu said, approaching cautiously. “You okay?”

Y/N glanced at him, her expression softening slightly. “I’m fine. Just... thinking.”

Mingyu sat down beside her, leaving a respectful distance between them. “You were amazing in that scene,” he said sincerely. “I felt like I was watching your character come to life.”

She looked at him, surprise flickering in her eyes. “Thank you. You did well too.”

It was the first time she’d offered him a genuine compliment, and Mingyu felt a small thrill of accomplishment. They sat in silence for a while, watching the sky change colors.

“Do you ever get tired?” Y/N asked suddenly. “Of being... this?”

Mingyu frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Of always being expected to be perfect. To smile, to perform, to never let your guard down,” she explained, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu thought for a moment before replying. “Sometimes. But I think it’s okay to not be perfect. People connect with us because of our flaws, not despite them.”

Y/N looked at him, her expression unreadable once more. But something shifted that day. She began to open up, little by little. Mingyu learned that behind her icy exterior was someone who cared deeply about her members, someone who carried the weight of leadership with grace but also with a heavy heart.

The rest of the cast and crew began to notice the change in their dynamic. During breaks, they often saw Mingyu and Y/N sharing quiet conversations or laughing at inside jokes. One day, a crew member walked in on Mingyu patiently teaching Y/N a card game to pass the time, his enthusiasm contagious as Y/N, known for her reserved nature, playfully accused him of cheating.

“Cheating? Me?” Mingyu feigned shock, placing a hand on his chest. “I’m wounded, Y/N. Truly.”

“Wounded or not, you’re still losing,” Y/N shot back with a rare grin.

Another time, during a particularly chilly outdoor shoot, a makeup artist caught Mingyu draping his jacket over Y/N’s shoulders without a word, brushing off her protests with a casual, “You’ll catch a cold.”

The director, amused by their growing rapport, once joked, “If you two don’t win Best Couple at the year-end awards, I’ll be writing to the network myself.”

Even the extras started to notice their synergy, with one commenting during lunch, “Their chemistry isn’t just acting—it’s real.” Mingyu’s consistent warmth and Y/N’s subtle but significant thawing became a favorite topic of conversation among the crew, adding a special layer of excitement to the production. The once distant co-stars were now sharing inside jokes, supporting each other through difficult scenes, and even eating meals together during breaks. Mingyu’s patience and warmth had managed to crack Y/N’s walls, and she, in turn, became a grounding presence for him.

The turning point came during a particularly grueling shoot. It was a night scene set in the rain, with both leads expected to deliver emotionally charged performances. As Y/N sprinted down the wet pavement for a pivotal chase sequence, her ankle twisted, sending her collapsing onto the ground mid-scene. The crew froze, and for a moment, the only sound was the rain hammering down. Mingyu, standing nearby, dropped his prop and sprinted to her side.

“Cut!” the director shouted, but Mingyu was already kneeling beside Y/N, his voice tinged with panic. “Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot?”

Y/N tried to sit up, brushing off the mud on her hands. “I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth, though the pain was evident in her eyes.

“No, you’re not,” Mingyu said firmly, his worry overriding his usual easygoing demeanor. He gestured for the on-set medic, his brows furrowed in concern. “You need to rest. This isn’t something to push through.”

Despite her protests, Mingyu carefully helped her to a nearby chair, his hand steady on her arm. His genuine concern was clear, and the crew exchanged knowing glances, murmuring about how protective he had become of her. In that moment, something shifted—not just between their characters, but in their real relationship as well.

The injury had forced Y/N to take it slow, and Mingyu took it upon himself to help her. He’d show up to set early to make sure the path was clear for her crutches, brought her snacks during breaks, and even offered to rehearse lines with her to save her unnecessary movement.

“You’re going to spoil me,” Y/N said one day, watching as Mingyu carefully adjusted her chair.

“Maybe,” Mingyu replied with a grin. “But I don’t mind.”

As “Between us” progressed, the romantic tension between Mingyu and Y/N on-screen began to mirror their growing connection off-screen. Their characters, who started out as strangers, gradually developed a deep emotional bond, with Mingyu’s warmth gradually melting Y/N’s cool exterior.

One evening, during a late-night shoot, the scene called for a quiet, intimate moment at the café. Mingyu’s character, Jae-min, had just confessed his feelings to Y/N’s character, Seo-yeon. The air was thick with tension as their eyes met, both characters hesitant yet longing.

“Are you sure you want this?” Jae-min asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as he reached out to gently touch Seo-yeon’s hand.

Y/N, as Seo-yeon, looked at him, her expression unreadable, before slowly nodding. “I don’t know, but I’m willing to try.”

In the next moment, Jae-min leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, a gentle but tender kiss filled with the promise of something new. The director yelled “Cut!” immediately after the kiss, but both actors were left momentarily frozen, caught in the vulnerability of the moment.

Mingyu quickly stepped back, awkwardly scratching his head. “Uh, sorry, was that too much?”

Y/N, for the first time in a while, let out a soft laugh, something that startled Mingyu. “No, it was good,” she said quietly, her cheeks flushed. “You just… surprised me, I guess.”

That night, as they wrapped up filming, Mingyu couldn’t stop thinking about how natural the kiss had felt—how it wasn’t just an act but something real that he had experienced with her. Y/N, despite her usually cool demeanor, had shown a glimmer of warmth, and it left Mingyu wondering if the lines between their characters were blurring.

The next scene that stood out was a pivotal moment in the drama, where Jae-min (Mingyu’s character) confesses his love for Seo-yeon (Y/N’s character) during a stormy night. They were supposed to be alone in the café, the rain tapping against the window as Jae-min, drenched from the downpour, walked in to find Seo-yeon sitting by the window, gazing out at the rain.

“Seo-yeon,” Jae-min said, his voice shaking with emotion. “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. You’re the only one who sees me for who I really am.”

Seo-yeon turned to him, her eyes softening but still guarded. “But you know I’m not the person you think I am, right?”

The tension in the room was palpable as Jae-min walked toward her, his every step determined. “I don’t care,” he whispered, his face inches from hers. “I love you.”

The kiss that followed was more passionate, a moment of release for both characters. The scene was so intense that even the crew stayed silent as they filmed. When the director yelled “Cut,” both Mingyu and Y/N stood frozen in their positions, the chemistry between them undeniable.

During a break, Y/N walked off to the side, away from the set, clearly trying to collect herself after the emotional intensity of the kiss. Mingyu, sensing her discomfort, followed her quietly.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asked softly, standing a few feet away.

Y/N paused, looking at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, just… it’s a lot sometimes, you know?” She shrugged. “This role is… difficult for me.”

Mingyu gave her a gentle smile. “You’re doing amazing. I can tell. I know acting can be hard, but you make it look effortless.”

Y/N looked at him, her walls slowly starting to crack. “Thanks, Mingyu,” she said quietly, her tone sincere.

As she turned back to the set, Mingyu watched her, his heart unexpectedly racing. They might have started out as strangers, but something was beginning to stir between them, something neither of them had anticipated.

One of the final scenes in the drama was another intimate moment between Jae-min and Seo-yeon. The two characters had gone through their fair share of struggles, and in this scene, they finally gave in to their feelings for one another. The script called for a tender, lingering kiss under the moonlight, where Jae-min pulls Seo-yeon into his arms as they both acknowledge their deep connection.

As the cameras rolled, the chemistry between Mingyu and Y/N was undeniable. The kiss was gentle at first, with both characters hesitant, but as the scene progressed, their passion deepened. Their lips met in a slow, sweet kiss that was both vulnerable and full of longing, capturing the emotional weight of everything their characters had been through.

When the director finally called “Cut,” the entire set seemed to hold its breath. Y/N, who had usually kept a distance from Mingyu, seemed to soften in his arms, the connection between them palpable even off-camera.

During the next break, Mingyu found himself sitting next to Y/N, who had become noticeably more relaxed around him since their first interactions. They were both exhausted from the intense filming, but the mood between them was no longer cold.

“I didn’t know acting could be like this,” Mingyu admitted, his voice low. “It’s… more than just saying lines. It feels real.”

Y/N looked at him thoughtfully. “Yeah, it’s like… you let yourself be vulnerable for a moment.” She paused, then added, “You’re a good actor, Mingyu.”

Her words caught him off guard. He smiled, not able to hide his feelings anymore. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

There was a comfortable silence between them, and for the first time, Mingyu felt a genuine sense of connection to Y/N—not just as his co-star, but as someone who understood the depth of their roles and the emotions they had shared through their characters.

One memorable day, they filmed a scene where their characters shared their first kiss under a canopy of stars. The setup was breathtaking—fairy lights hanging from the trees, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves, and the soft strumming of a guitar playing in the background.

Between takes, Mingyu leaned over with a grin. “They really went all out for this, huh?”

Y/N glanced around, her lips twitching into a rare smile. “It’s beautiful. Almost makes you forget we’ve been here for hours.”

The scene required them to hold hands, exchange lingering gazes, and lean into a kiss that felt as natural as breathing. When the director finally called, “Cut!” he looked up from the monitor and clapped. “That was perfect! The chemistry was off the charts.”

Another day, they filmed a playful sequence where their characters spent an afternoon at a seaside carnival. From riding the Ferris wheel to playing ring toss, the scenes were filled with laughter and lighthearted moments. While filming a shot where Mingyu’s character won a giant stuffed bear for Y/N’s character, he jokingly handed it to her and said, “This is the closest you’ll get to me spoiling you in real life.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “I’ll cherish it forever,” she quipped, hugging the bear dramatically.

The most challenging yet rewarding scene to film came toward the end of the drama, where their characters finally confessed their feelings after a heated argument. The emotions ran high, and even the crew found themselves holding their breath as Mingyu and Y/N brought the raw vulnerability of their characters to life. By the time the director called cut, there was a moment of stunned silence before the set erupted into applause.

“You really outdid yourselves,” the director said, visibly moved. “This is the kind of performance that stays with people.”

Through these scenes, their bond grew stronger. Whether it was the stolen glances that felt too real or the way they naturally gravitated toward each other during breaks, it was clear to everyone that something special was blooming between them.

[markrosewater]

Hi Mark. With a lot of talk recently in the online space about the unreasonable outrage and horrendous death threats towards the Commander Rules Committee and Commander Advisory Group, I want to thank you for being the proverbial "shield" for some of the most heinous and grotesque backlash towards WOTC as the unofficial public representative for MTG. I know it can be absolutely draining for your mental health to receive harassment in this position, so I just want to say I am grateful and empathize that you are in this position. With that being said, as one of the most prominent faces of Magic, is it possible if you could say a word or two about the aforementioned harassment towards the RC and CAG to deter these harassers and possibly share your own experiences regarding unconstructive hate to help the victims of such depravity (if you're comfortable sharing)?

There are advantages and disadvantages of being one of the faces for Magic. When people like something we're doing, even when I had nothing to do with it, I get lots of praise. Most players only know a handful of Wizards employees, so they tend to assume that the people they know are responsible for the things that are happening.

There is, of course, a downside to that. When things happen people dislike, I'm also the light rod for complaint. Whether or not I had anything to do with the issue in question, I get the blame. I am Head Designer. Many times, I did have a hand or a say in what happened. And when I'm responsible, or partly responsible, for something, I try to own up to it.

Players are not a unified front though. When we do thing X, some of you will like it while others will not. I often will get complimented for the same thing I'm being yelled at for.

From time to time, we do something a majority are unhappy with. At times, we do things a majority are *very* unhappy with. That's when things can get a bit ugly. There are a lot of civilities built into daily life. There are just things you don't do or say to another human being. Most of that goes out the window online.

For some reason, the anonymity combined with just how social media has evolved has emboldened people to do and say things they never would in person (and I should also acknowledge society has changed in ways that even what's acceptable in person has changed).

What this means is I get a lot of negativity, some of it very personal. I'm not just talking about people criticizing the in-game choices I've made (or often didn't even make), but comments on me as a person, about who I am and what they think of me. People tell me that want bad things to happen to me. Not just getting fired (although that's a popular one), people vocalize, sometimes quite graphically, about things they want to happen to me.

The first few times this happened, I took it pretty hard. Having lots of people attack you online, saying horrible things about you, is tough. Humans look to other humans for approval. It's just built into our DNA to want others to like us. Having people attack you hurts. You have trouble sleeping, eating, it just weighs on you emotionally.

I was bullied as a kid. This really isn't much different except its much higher in volume and very public.

With time, I learned to adapt to it. It's not that I enjoy people saying nasty things about me. It still sucks, but I've found ways to process it. I came to realize that someone being nasty is more a commentary on them than me. And I adopted a philosophy of looking past the words to the message behind it. Most people complaining didn't like a choice we made about the game. I could focus on the feedback and less on the delivery method. But that took years, and it has a lot to do with who I am as a person. I enjoy the things I get to do with a public profile, so I accept what comes with it.

I've made the conscious choice to build a thick skin and weather social media, so I can continue doing what I love. It saddens me that I have to.

I say all this because I don't know if people really process the harm they're doing when they get negative online, especially towards another person. Most people do not have the years of processing angry messages like I do.

Words have an impact and that doesn't matter whether you're speaking them directly to someone's face or typing them in the privacy of your home.

Bullying is not okay. Cruelty is not okay. Making a conscious choice to belittle another human being, especially because they made a choice you disagree with about a game, is not okay.

When you use ugly words, you are doing harm to another human being (sometimes many human beings). Imagine if someone attacked you like that, or a loved one, or a friend. Don't do something to another human being that would cause pain if it was done to you.

That doesn't mean you can't communicate unhappiness. It doesn't mean you can't vocalize that you disagree with a decision made. I would stress two things. One, make it about the decision and not the person who made the decision. Explain why and how the decision impacts you, not what you think of the person because they made the decision.

Two, watch your language. As I said above, words have power. They can be used to build or to destroy. Is the language you're using designed to hurt? If so, don't use it. Use other language. If you need to take time to calm down, do so.

Community is what we as individuals choose for it to be. One of the things I love about the Magic community is how kind it can be, how accepting it can be, how uplifting it can be. But that's because we each individually choose to do that. The Magic community can get ugly, but only if we allow it to become so.

So please, the next time you're making a message designed to do something destructive rather than constructive, take a moment to reflect. Why are you doing this? What is your goal? Is it your intent to hurt someone? Because that's what negative language does.

I ask the Magic community to be better. I know we have the potential. I've seen it.

Be part of the solution, not the problem.

Thanks.

[evolnoomym]

Washing Machine Heart 🩶 Pt.1

Mom’s Best-friend!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: Your Mom is not nice to you, her only Daughter, always picking on you whenever she can. To get back at her you decide to seduce and fuck her Highschool Best-friend Joel Miller. Oh she also has a crush on him so that’s a bonus.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: no use of y/n, female reader, implied abuse, childhood trauma, alcohol, smut, reader has no name only nicknames, size difference, age gap, readers age is mentioned and Joel is more than double sooo, mommy issues, strained relationships, petty shit, cream pie, tittys, choking kind of, teasing, Joel is tiny bit Pervy, of course Daddy kink, unprotected p in v,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: I was mad so this is what I cooked up lol

Shoutout to @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. This is my first time writing smut sooooo be nice please. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. 🖤

Song’s I listened to while writing:

I Hate My Mom by GRLwood

Class of 2013 by Mitski

I hope ur miserable until ur dead by Nessa Barrett

Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA

Backstabber by Kesha

Jerk by Oliver Tree

You know exactly when the relationship between you and your mother started deteriorating- The day she decided to choose your loser Stepdad, the one she only dated for 4 years, over her own 8 year old daughter. From then on you took a backseat in her life yet she still expected you to take care of her all needs. You hate her for what she did and you miss her like a little kid. You had to drag her home when she drank too much, you can’t even remember how often that happened. Always having to jump in between that asshole and her fighting cuz even though she practically emotionally abandoned you, you still wanted to protect her from harm's way. She forced you to grow up so quickly, it’s her fault you never got a real childhood.

For years you accepted that this is normal. The screaming, the violence and the degrading words became a part of growing up. You were a kid but not clueless, someone who loves you wouldn’t have done all of this. And yet all of them tried so hard to make you shut up and believe it’s what you deserved.

Luckily what happened did not entirely break you. No, you grew into someone who fought for herself since no one ever did that.

Of course you hoped she might realize her mistakes, apologize and change but nothings new with her. She’s great at pretending to be a better person to the outside world, than she is in reality, behind closed doors the mask unveils an ugly woman. A narcissistic self absorbed monster that took all your joy away.

It’s pathetic considering how much she always talks about getting abused by her own father but instead of breaking the cycle she doubled down on it. Going as far as using that as an excuse for what she did to her own child.

She only kinda stopped the abuse once you no longer were a small child. Now that you could fight back she did not corner you anymore.

But just because she couldn’t hit you anymore doesn’t mean the picking on you stopped, no, it was her mission to rid you of the last remaining confidence and self love.

In each screaming match she tried so hard to gaslight you into believing you were crazy for feeling offended by her disgusting behavior.

One time you asked why she hit you as a little kid and the answer left you completely blown away. She expressed that you cried so much, and did it to provoke her. What else could she have possibly done other than raise her hand?

Or another time she refused to acknowledge that she hit you at all but a second later told you that perhaps if she would’ve done worse you would’ve turned out better.

At some point you stopped calling her Mom and only went with her name. You knew that it must hurt but did she really deserve that title after everything she did?

Now at 21 years old the relationship is just as rocky, not much has changed.

Your mom has basically zero friends, she’s a bitch of course no one would want to be too close, well except for Joel…..Joel Miller that somehow was her friend.

Perhaps only since they have known each other since High School, he might have felt some kind of obligation towards her due to that. She told you once that Joel was the boy every girl had a crush on with his whole guitar playing thing they all swooned over him.

Even now all those years later Joel was a beautiful specimen, tall, broad shoulders, huge hands, strong arms you’d like to be enveloped by, tanned freckled skin, a cute butt, gorgeous brown curls with slightly gray streaks showing his age, big brown eyes, a prominent nose and soft pillow like lips.

You understand why your Mom had a crush on him, any woman would bend over for him if he’d say so. She thought it was not too noticeable but unlike Joel you caught it immediately.

She made you the reason for her life being so shitty but now after years of torment you saw a chance at really giving her a reason to hate you. Maybe something is wrong with you for liking the idea of breaking her heart so much but you honestly couldn’t care less. The one you felt sorry for most was probably Joel; he would be the pawn in your deranged game without knowing.

As it turns out though Joel is not as innocent as expected, the more you tried to get closer the more you realized he might be easier to seduce than originally anticipated.

You started with small things like hugging him a bit longer than normally so he could feel you perky full tits squished against his chest. Touching his arms and squeezing them but not too much as if to draw attention to it. And from his reactions, he did not seem to mind.

You were not worried about your mother, she never was the most alert to begin with.

When Joel came over for a barbecue you used the time alone with him in the garden while your mother was in the kitchen preparing god knows what to impress him.

Joel and you had some interesting conversations.

“Soooo you work in contracting, right?” You asked him sweetly. Joel chuckled “Yeah sweetheart, I do. But ya know tha’ already, so why ask?” You played it off as much as you could “Just making sure you didn't decide to switch career paths in the time I haven’t seen you…” you look up at him through your lashes, cheekily biting your lip. Joel of course fell into the trap, his eyes going down to your plush lips in mere seconds. Got ya you dirty old men.

You stepped closer until you two were only a couple inches apart. His chest almost touched yours. In this position you really had to Crane your neck up to keep eye contact consistent.

“What are ya doing Baby,huh?” Joel tilted his head slightly down towards your face. You just giggled at him “Nothin Joel, just…” with that you put your hands on his wide chest ruining them down over his enticing slightly protruding belly. “I know you stare at my ass alllllll the time. I also know you like it when I walk close by you and graze you with my tits. My little skimpy outfits turn you on as well don’t they,huh Joel?” You smirk at him.

You can see how he clenches his jaw…ohhh yes you got him figured out.

He hisses low and menacing at you “You are a little slut ain’t ya, baby. Groping a man over double your age. Teasin me with those sugar tits and that tight lil ass….”

You can see his pupils dilate till his eyes look close to being completely blacked out. You muse “Yeah I’m a whore but you like that don’t you?” With that you cup his hard cock over his shorts he decided to wear today.

He gasps and immediately grips your wrist to yank those devilish hands away from his throbbing length. Especially when he hears your mother’s voice calling out from inside the house.

He backs off and tries to catch his breath as well as calm his raging hard on down to an unnoticeable minimum. Before he leaves to figure out what she called for he turns to you and lifts an accusing finger towards you.

“We ain’t done baby, ya gonna make it up to me for teasin and leavin me all high and dry, mkay?” He tilts his head almost to intimidate you but to no avail you’re just a massive brat “Hmmm sure Joeliii but i think your underwear is anything but dry.” You giggle and continue “Probably full of pre cum am I right,huh?”

Joel can’t believe what he’s gotten himself into and just shakes his head while turning to the house.

Somehow he made it through the barbecue without your mother noticing any tension between Joel and you. Stupid of her but good for you.

In the weeks after that afternoon you and him kept secretly meeting up. Most of the time at his house or he’d pick you up with his truck to drive you somewhere where he could have you without any distractions, of course when your mom wasn’t home. She might be stupid but even to her it would be weird why you suddenly start taking trips with Joel and she should not be suspicious.

Also during the talks with Joel that happened when taking a break between fucking it was once again made clear that he for whatever reason had not an ounce of knowledge about your mom’s crush.

The plan for how the reveal should go was set in motion. Your mom was driving out to one of those weird grocery stores that sold the health powders she drowned herself in, in hopes of making her more pretty from the inside out but to no avail the rot can’t be reversed.

You knew how long that would take her, it gave you enough time to fuck Joel in her favorite spot on the couch. Yeah petty and perhaps childish but you don’t care make her remember how you defiled her lovely couch with the man she was in love with.

Joel showed up 10 minutes after she drove off. You barely got the door closed behind him before he pounced on you. It’s been a few weeks since you fucked him last, you wanted him to be desperate for it so he’ll might be more focused on pounding you then notice that your mother is returning.

He immediately slotted his lips over yours, his hands grabbing at your hips with urgency.

You spin with him attached to your lips so you can guide him where you want him, on the couch. His breathing is already elevated and by the significantly evident bulge he’s massively turned on. Good, the less rational thinking the better.

While you push him towards the couch his lips slip down your jaw and land on your throat kissing and sucking all over. Between those kisses he huffs “Babyyy - I’ve - missed - ya so - much…” you just hum as an answer and when the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch he’s forced to unlatch from you.

He falls back, his head hitting the soft pillows so he’s only slightly elevated. You wink at him “yeah I bet you have and most of all He has missed me huh? Looks almost painful, did you not touch yourself in meantime?”

He sounds a bit whiny in his response “No Baby haven’t touched myself, saved it all for ya greedy little pussy.” Even when you think to have the upper hand he reminds you how different it actually is. “Come on baby, why don’t ya take of that lil skirt an’ take seat on my lap.” While grabbing at his crotch.

Your mouth is watering but there’s no time today to get your mouth on him like you usually love to. At his dirty words you can feel some wetness gush from your pulsing cunt, coating the inside of your thighs. As requested you slip your flowy skirt down your legs.

Joel let's out a gasp „No panties baby? Ya naughty little slut.“ he chuckles and you retort „Don’t need them if I’m with you, so why make it harder than it needs to be?“ at that Joel can only nod.

„Come here Sweet Moon Love.“ he demands.

You get on your hands and knees between his spread legs that lay on the couch. Slowly crawling towards him teasing him with your tits that are almost spilling out of your skimpy tank top.

When you finally sit down on his jeans-covered cock he lets out a sound of relief. Your knees on either side of his hips and his hands immediately find home on your hips and ass, kneading and caressing the skin there.

„Fuck Moon ya turn me on so much take of that goddamn top and show me those sweet sugar tits.“

So you do, slipping it over your head and throwing it somewhere behind you. He’s not surprised by the lack of a bra. He knows you hate wearing them and if he’s honest he loves that a lot, easier access and all.

Joel’s hands go from your hips up to the tits he loves so much. Carefully touching them, his warm hands and the wonderful feeling making it unable not to moan. Swiping his calloused fingers over your nipples, twisting them with determination causing you to keen.

You start arching your back towards his groping hands. His administrations cause the pull in your lower stomach to Continuously get stronger. You are convinced his jeans are covered in your juices and without realizing you’ve started to rub your bare pussy over his bulge with vigor.

„Joel enough I need you inside me, now!“ You don’t even wait for a response, lifting your hips and loosening his belt and unbuttoning the buttons of his jeans. With his help you drag his pants down but only so much that you are able to pull his throbbing cock out of the confines that are his blue boxers and you can see a huge dark spot where pre cum leaked, making you look at Joel chuckling „You really want it huh? Daddy” with a sweet lilt that makes his dick Twitch in your hands.

He just groans “Baby Moon if ya don’t sit down on my cock right now I’ll do it myself and I won’t give ya time to adjust.” He threatens but it really only turns you on more.

You peer up at the clock and see that you only have about 15 minutes left.

You take your original position and when his warm length slips through your moist folds his pre cum mixing with your own juices to create an addicting squelching sound.

At this point the dark hair nestling at the base of his cock and his happy trail are completely soaked.

“Gosh, Sweetheart she’s gushing all over me, put it in. She wants my cock don’t keep her waitin” you love when he talks in this way about your cunt, makes you wetter if that’s even possible.

You lift up a bit again and take hold of his length with one hand, the other on his chest to stabilize yourself. Dragging his leaking head through your glossy folds before lining him up with your gushing opening. You take one deep inhale cuz you know it’ll be a stretch even with how often you've done this.

Before sinking down on him you look at him there’s guilt somewhere deep in your conscience but you shake your head, you ain’t backing out now.

You slowly start to sink down when Joel decides it’s not quick enough so he grips your hips and in one swift fast motion sheets his huge dick inside your tight cunt.

“Ahhh..-ah J-Joel what the fuck” you hiss slapping his chest hard for being so impatient.

He huffs “Sorry Baby but Daddy has waited long enough for Her, just shush.” He actually has the audacity to shush you.

You get used to the feeling of being so filled to the brim and slide back & forth for a moment.

Then you put your feet down flat on the couch and grip the headrest behind him before starting to fuck him in earnest. Up and down at first slowly but steadily you get quicker and harder. Joel can’t even speak unless you count his obnoxiously loud moaning and growling.

“Yeah how you like that old man, hmm Daddy you're all quiet this pussy shut you up good, huh?” You wonder and out of nowhere one of Joel’s big hands grips your throat making you slow your movements to a minimum. He pulls your face toward his and grunts “Baby Moon ya need to be put in your place, ya bratty ass is treading on some mighty thin ice.”

He gives you one hard peck and then shoves your face in his neck. You don’t complain, you love when he’s so rough with you and his musky masculine smell is your favorite.

Joel pulls his legs up and plants his feet on the couch just like you did and then he starts to relentlessly push up into you at an alarming speed so hard that if it weren’t for the arm pinning you to his chest you’d fall off.

“Jo-Joel….Joel it’s so good ah…don’t stop” you babble in his ear and opposite to his harsh pounding he soothes “Shhh Baby I know, I know it’s so much for ya and Her. But listen to how much she’s enjoying it.”

And he’s right besides the obscene “plap, plap, plap” of skin hitting skin you can hear the wet squelching from the place you're both connected. “I’m close baby, where?” He asks while slipping a hand between your bodies to touch your neglected clit and immediately your whiny moans get even louder “I-in…inside Daddy. Pleaseee cum inside me.”

You beg and he loves that “Hmm yeah, ya wanna be filled up Baby?” He questions “God yes Daddy fill me up, please pleasee” you want nothing more than to feel him spill inside of you.

Seems that when Joel told you he was kinda deaf in his right ear it wasn’t a lie or maybe the plan of making him so desperate to fuck you that he won’t hear the door unlocking worked out.

But you can hear the slight clicking and the closing of the door. Unlike what you expect she does not start screaming, no, she’s eerily quiet. Perhaps it’s due to not having realized who exactly you're screwing as if there’s no tomorrow or simple shock.

Joel under you seems to have reached his end and without any preamble he starts shooting his warm cum deep inside your tight hole. The warm sensation combined with his unrelenting rubbing your clit pushes you over the finish line too. With that you pull up from his neck and drag him up as well, crossing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

You know she is right there at the threshold, you don’t care and to rub it in even more you say “Thank you Daddy, I love you.” And as if he knows his role Joel answers “I love you too little Moon.”

And that might have been the final straw, she speaks up and it flips out into incoherent screaming. Joel is immediately startled; he lightly pushes you off, quickly tugging himself back into his jeans and getting up to explain. You however get up slowly and put your top and skirt back on.

With the lack of panties you can feel his spend leaking out of you and you’re sure there’s very evident stains on Joel’s jeans that your mother must see.

The back and forth they must be having doesn’t even register to you. The blissful buzzing from the orgasm and the satisfaction of having succeeded in hurting her are making you all dozzy.

But then she comes charging at you screaming in your face “You’re smiling, you think this is funny??? I knew you were a bitch who only ruins everything, you are a worthless piece of shit a absolute waste of space” she’s so hysterical but you don’t care, it’s good she’s showing her true colors for Joel to see.

She continues “You are disgraceful and shameful for the entire family. I want you out of the house now. You are dead to me.” She probably thinks those words could hurt but it’s nothing compared to all the horrible things she did in the past. You just smirk at her nodding which infuriates her more than any comeback could.

With that you slip past her, Joel looks completely stunned by what just unfolded before his eyes. You don’t acknowledge him much, quickly skipping up the stairs,entering your room, grabbing a suitcase and filling it with the most important items. Then shuffling out of your room locking it behind you. You heave the suitcase down the stairs, no sign of Joel all you can hear is her crying in the living room, it amuses you, not an ounce of sympathy left for her. You don’t bother saying bye just open the front door and out you are.

The surprise is waiting in front of the house, Joel, he didn’t leave but instead waited for you.

He looks at you “Did it mean anything to you at all, or was it just a big joke?” He doesn’t look hurt, just confused. You close the distance between him and you “I wish it wouldn’t but it’s not possible to not feel anything, look at you Joel you’re a so beautiful so caring of course I fell for you.” He nods and takes your suitcase out of your hand. “Wh..what are you doing ?” You question “I’m taking ya home Moon, think I’d let you run around these streets? Get in the car” he urges.

And you do, when he drives off you don’t look back once.

Npt: @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @studioghibelli @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @sizzlingcloudmentality @the-mandawhor1an @clawdee @penvisions 🩶

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

[shamebats]

I cannot describe how much better things are since I've started T and even more so since I switched to the high dose. I wouldn't say it solved my problems but it genuinely made everything so much easier to deal with. I just had a presentation for work that allowed for a little silliness and whimsy and I genuinely had so much fun, it didn't feel forced or fake, just me making jokes and being a happy dude, and when everyone loved it I felt so happy. I used to always try to be perfect so nobody would criticize me but now I can actually get praise and it makes me feel all warm & motivated to keep going and I'm slowly getting better at accepting feedback & citicizism too. Nothing else in my life has changed, I just feel better equipped to handle things because I actually feel like a person now. I have the energy & the lust for life to keep going and also to enjoy the small things. I love being trans, it has genuinely saved my life <3

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [3] | Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: MDNI 18+!! smut, angst!!!!!!, unedited, infidelity, revenge cheating, oral (m receiving), kinda slightttt dub con if you squint w/ Aegon x reader, Aemond is frustrating, so is reader tbh, slight deviation from canon? again, if you squint, soft!aemond if you also squint. But also---angry Aemond (rahhhhhh), tell me if I've missed any warnings!

Author's note: my APOLOGIES on the wait, y'all. Hopefully this scratches an itch!! it's 11PM here, which is the earliest I've ever posted a fic funnily enough. I also reallyyyyy appreciate the love on this series so far!!! Love you all. As always, please don't hesitate to comment or to interact or hmu in my inbox w/ me bc I LOVE yapping with you guys. Send in feedback or criticism (but like I'll cry if it's super mean) or some headcannons!! or even your best dad joke. Anyways, xoxo kisses!!! <3

Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen was an intelligent man. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been acting as the realm’s largest imbecile. 

Time and time again, Aemond had let his ego and his pride run ahead of his brain, and had failed to think of the effect that his actions had on people other than himself. Sure, he cared for those who were important to him. His sister, his mother, his grandfather, Ser Cole, Aegon (although Aemond may not have realised it) and even to some extent his wife. 

He realised, perhaps too late, that you may as well be a stranger to him. And at one point, Aemond had truly believed that keeping whatever unlucky woman he was to wed at arms length would be for the best. 

The first time he met you was insignificant. It was as per tradition and formality. Aemond’s interactions up until the wedding was mainly with your family, despite the efforts you made to acquaint yourself with him properly. You were much more timid then, shyer than Aemond had expected from the to-be wife of a weaponised prince. But then again, he had only assumed that a Lady like his mother would have been chosen for him; confident, cunning and strong-headed. 

At the time he had begun to understand you better, Aemond had lost track of himself. A sort of descent into darkness where he went from a young prince to a man, eager to prove himself at whatever cost. Satisfied by the control he gained through fear, strength and reputation. Now that he had stopped to think about his marriage, after you had left him hard and desperate in his own bed, Aemond came to realise a few things. 

You were a purity among the wickedness and politics of the Red Keep. An inherently good person and a woman of grace, kindness and compassion. He had already noticed the dwindling of those traits brought on by your new life, confined to the walls of a fortress that was littered with deceit, distrust and gore. Aemond was a far darker entity than you–he had accepted this fact after the first true conversation you shared. 

Corrupting you was both tempting and terrifying. Aemond had always been loveless–deprived of the affection he craved and deserved but also clueless about how to give that affection. And while he wished he could learn how to right himself and how to quell the carelessness of his temperament and the destruction that was left in its wake, Aemond didn’t know how to. 

Perhaps it would come naturally. He was a lot more open to that notion now, despite the fact that most of him was convinced he was incapable of such change. 

Aemond regretted–something he didn’t feel often–how he had pushed you away. Even if he had not intended to. 

Because now, he was starting to see you as you were. A woman who had far more of an influence over his emotions than he realised–a woman who he had begun to crave the affections of in such an intensity that it only served to scare him away from you. At one stage, you had been another stranger among the walls of his home bound to him in nothing but title but, at some point throughout this ridiculous game that he had stupidly encouraged, Aemond had started to see you as his wife. 

The whore that he had let into his bed was not actually a whore. It was a woman Aemond had known–a witch whom he had shared the pleasures of his body with before the two of you had wed. Alys was always eager for him and once, he would have returned it with his own enthusiasm. Not anymore. She was simply an easier option. A whore would never sully the sanctity of his chambers. It wouldn’t have made a difference if he had been honest and told you that Alys was not from the Street of Silk. 

To anyone who came asking, including you, Aemond would first admit to taking a whore into his bed than a lowly witch.

He cursed himself for letting his honour fall so short that this is what it took for him to wake up. For him to have tainted his loyalty to you, to have let a woman whom he could barely get it up for shatter the confines of his marriage, for him to have been left unwound with a hard cock, his hand and only the scent of you on his thigh to release the tension that was driving him mad. 

Aemond wished he hadn’t been so short sighted. He would subject himself to whatever punishment he deserved should it be the burn of a whip against his back or the sickening ache of starvation if you were to demand it. 

All of a sudden, in the days that had passed since your encounter on his bed, Aemond found himself looking for you throughout his day. He hoped you’d cross each other in the halls, cursed the world for keeping him too busy to spend an afternoon with you in the gardens, sworn at the war that was raging for binding him to his duties and keeping you apart. 

So at the first opportunity he had to take time for himself and for the first time in your short marriage, Aemond had called upon you to join him for afternoon tea.You stared at the young servant who had been sent to retrieve you, half wondering if you had heard the boy incorrectly. Had he called you simply one moon ago, you would have dropped everything you were doing to meet your husband for tea with a grin and a skip in your step at the prospect of finally spending time with him on his own accord. 

But now? It both excited you and infuriated you. 

You gave the boy a soft smile, holding your reserve together when his face dropped at your refusal. “You may tell my husband that I am otherwise attended to for my tea.”

It wasn’t a lie. You had important plans for the afternoon with the other Targaryen son. 

The servant stood still for a moment. “Yes, my Lady.”

“The rest of my afternoon is already engaged with the King,” you purposefully added, a mixture of adrenaline and excitement beginning to simmer in your belly. “Tell him I will take tea with him another time.”

You were walking away from your chambers before the servant had turned to leave. A part of you felt bad for him. Anyone would be wary of delivering rejection to a prince. It felt as if you were sending him to his death in a way, knowing that the seemingly innocent excuse was balancing on a wire that was already frayed. If the young servant had known of your sly plan for revenge, he would have spoiled his breeches. 

There was a chance Aemond would catch on straight away. There was a chance that he would take a little longer. 

Either way, so long as he caught on, everything would unfold in your favor.

Aegon had been waiting for you, a mischievous smile on his lips at the sight of you eagerly rushing towards him. He was an immature and distracted King, and he was definitely not without his flaws, but he had never been bad to you. Sometimes, you even appreciated Aegon’s efforts to involve you in conversation or to pull a smile out of you when you had clearly been distressed. Nonetheless, he was still an infuriating cad and you had often considered giving in to violent urges at the way he treated Helaena. 

Helaena. 

A stab of guilt in your gut at the thought of her. Sure, she had confided in you on numerous occasions and you knew she felt little care for Aegon’s outwards ventures with women but you knew she was saddened by the state of her marriage. And here you were, as wretched as the whore that Aemond had bedded. It was no different; you were doing the same thing as her. Only it wasn’t your job; you weren’t doing it for the money. 

The satisfaction of bringing Aemond down to the same level he had brought you to was all the motivation you needed. It would be treading a thin line but it would be worth it. 

“I had wondered how long it would take you to find yourself in my chambers, Princess,” Aegon’s voice held that boyish shrill he had never grown out of. The way he had stepped aside to let you pass, eyes holding yours through his lashes as he dipped his head with a grin. “For a cup of tea, of course.”

Comparing Aegon’s chambers to Aemond’s was instinctual. It was brighter here, messier and there was an unkempt feel to the furniture despite the servant’s having kept things relatively put together. A King’s chambers, it was; grand and large and adorned with all sorts of artistry. Aemond’s chambers had held a darker tone; presumably because Aemond was sensitive to light on his blind eye and somehow even the glow of light from the lamps were deeper and warmer. 

You liked Aemond’s chambers better. 

“It has been overdue, Your Grace,” you weren’t sure of that. “Thank you for indulging me this afternoon. I wager a King such as yourself is no short of duties to tend to.” 

Aegon scoffed, pouring himself a cup of wine as he watched you take a seat at the small settee from the corner of his eye. “My family seems to be taking care of my duties on my behalf. I am a king in nought but title, you see.”

There was nothing you could say at his unbridled honesty. Aegon was different to most of the people who presided here in that way. He cared little to hide behind a facade of false indifference and stoicism. 

He fell to the cushion beside you, close enough so you could smell the drink he balanced in his hand. Aegon laid back lazily, resting on his elbows and watching you as you sat pin-straight and brought the piping tea to your lips. “‘Tis not a concern. I would much prefer to have more comely company than those clueless cunts who sit on my counsel.”

“I do not doubt that, Your Grace,” you coughed lightly, growing alarmingly aware of the fact that you hadn’t thought about how this was going to play out. There was absolutely nothing that you knew about seducing a king. No less, a king with Aegon’s track record. “I beli-”

“You have been different,” He cut you off. Swiftly pushing himself up so that his face was beside yours, breath tickling the strands of your hair that had fallen loose across your cheek. Aegon’s lips were gently turned up as his eyes traced every curve of your face. 

Swallowing thickly, you will yourself to meet his eye with confidence. The curiosity in his familiar violet eyes was paired with an immature lust and you wondered if he had any idea how easy it could be to use his forward thinking cock against him were you a woman of cunning ambitions. You didn’t miss how his gaze flickered across your throat and towards the curve of your chest. 

But something in the way that Aegon looked at you in that moment, like you were a woman of such beauty that he would risk whatever consequences were sent his way just to feel your touch sent a slither of saddened longing across your chest. Not even your husband had made you feel as if you were so captivating. 

It made the knowledge of how ever long you’d be alone with him far easier to stomach.

“I do not know of what you mean, Your Grace.”

Aegon laughed, bringing his face so close to yours that the point of his nose touched against your cheek. His hand fell to rest flat just above your belly, brazenly close to where your dress tucked underneath the curve of your breasts. 

“I know well when a Lady is not…” he dragged his nose across your soft skin, eyes carefully watching your reaction. “Sufficiently satisfied by her husband.”

Your breath hitched at how quickly Aegon had set his target. “If you mean to-”

“Does my dear brother forego his duties for the comfort of whores, perhaps?”

Pursing your lips, you gently turned your face so that your lips were centimetres away from his, Aegon’s fringe brushing across your forehead. There was a ringing in your ears, a nervousness about how you were so close to betraying your husband and how you were unsure that you could handle the fallout of what was definitely about to happen. Things are much different for women; infidelity and adultery would be grounds for far worse than simply an annulment. This world was not so kind to a lady who partakes in the same treachery as a lord.

Above all, you were conflicted.

“It seems my husband is no different to any other man who does not hunger for his wife.”

“I hunger for his wife,” Aegon all but moaned at the way your lips nudged closer to his. He cocked his head to the side and pressed his fingers into your flesh. “But I am no fool, my Lady. Aemond has always been the sole object of your gaze. You are here for more sinister reasons, I suspect.”

You blinked. Why did these Targaryen princes so often seem to be one step ahead?

It was a relief that he had not moved away from your closeness. In fact, Aegon leaned further into it. His smile never faltered and he waited patiently for you, watching as you thought of your next moves. There was a flush of embarrassment that prettied your skin and it was clear that your facade was close to crumbling. Aegon was not a man you desired in such a way. Merely a means to an end. 

So you sighed, resigning to the fact that being honest with Aegon would be best. 

“You are right,” you muttered. He shook with a silent laugh at your bravery and the way your chin remained turned up. “I-I believe you are aware of my intentions, Your Grace. Will you have me dragged back to Prince Aemond’s feet or will you allow my scheme?”

Aegon was in front of you in a matter of seconds, bending down so that he met your height as you stayed seated. “I would risk meeting the wrath of a man whose temperament and pride are unchained.”

“Teach me how to make it worth it then, my King,” you held strong in forcing the tremble out of your voice. You didn’t want to bed him entirely–absolutely not. Just what you had seen through the gap in Aemond’s door would be more than enough and there was a bubbling gratification in your stomach knowing that Aemond would not be able handle what he had so easily served out. 

His hand held the back of your neck and he jerked forward to catch your lips, grunting when you turned your head from him. You couldn’t kiss him. You weren’t interested in kissing him–only fulfilling the steady thrum of excitement at the need to both experience what you had been teased with and show your husband that he should be sorry. 

In fact, and you were loathsome to even rationalise it, you felt sick at the thought of kissing him. And you felt a little drop in your gut at the thought of taking him in any kind of way but it was different. Less frightening than kissing a man you were trying so hard to convince yourself was sexy enough.

There was no man for your body’s desires aside from Aemond Targaryen-–

A deep breath and you looked at Aegon through your lashes, bringing your fingers to feel the softness of his lips. “I do not want you to fuck me, Your Grace. But show me how I may give you pleasure with my mouth. And how a man can satisfy me with his.”

Aegon became excited at your use of such foul language, his hand remaining behind your neck as he straightened and guided you roughly to his hips, groaning as your hands instinctively found his thighs and moved upwards. He was painfully hard in his breeches–he had been since the first moment you looked at him with that stubborn intent and purpose. 

There was a strong urge to push him away but you fought through it. 

“I am sure your husband is already searching for his brazen little vixen,” Aegon watched as you breathed heavily, your chest heaving and your soft breasts pressing against the tightly laced corset of your dress. “And I am sure you wish for him to find us. Very cunning of you, I must say.” 

His touch didn’t pull that feeling from you. The feeling of Aemond’s touch that had made you feel as if you were floating in lava and drowning in a molten heat that could only be quelled by him. But it made your blood rush down, growing sensitive between your thighs at the prospect of pleasuring a man who openly lusted for you and had no care for hiding it. 

Aegon didn’t care for games that shattered your self-worth. He didn’t care to make you feel lesser than a whore for your curiosity of how it felt to have a man tremble from your mouth. All he wanted was to feed his appetite for you–the beautiful Lady who he had envied his brother for having to himself.

“I want to learn how to do it,” you whispered, melting into Aegon’s guidance as he hastily fiddled with the embellishments on his tunic to undo half of it and push the velvet fabric out of the way. The laced belt at his waist was discarded in seconds and you took little time to pull him out of the confines of his breeches. “So I can–so I can show him.”

There was a certain light headed nervousness that you felt when you realised that you don’t actually know how to do what you wished to. It seemed easy enough when you watched how that woman had given Aemond her mouth but now that you were faced with trying it out yourself, you worried how you would fare. Aegon triggered a natural response from you, one that you had learned was instinctual of human bodies, but you just could not find him desirable. 

Momentarily, you doubted you could find it in you to disregard your aversion to the King. An aversion that suddenly became more pressing an issue than it was merely seconds ago.

Aegon must have noticed your apprehension because he guided you forward, the hardened length of his cock brushing against your face. He was breathing heavily when he spoke. “Lick it. Use your tongue first and then-fuck, that’s right-” you hesitantly followed his instructions, dragging the tip of your tongue across the sides of him, gentle flicks down to the base and then a long stripe up to the top. It was an invigorating thrill when you felt him throb against your mouth. His hips jerked when you hesitantly wrapped your lips around him. 

It was slightly uncomfortable but it was not a bad feeling. Aegon tasted musky and salty, and a little bit sweaty. You took a moment to find the best way to stop your teeth from grazing against him and started to move along him, watching as he threw his head back, eyes shut tightly. 

The image of your husband stayed ingrained in your head. Would Aemond taste the same? Would he feel the same on your tongue? Would his cock react to you in such a way? Would you enjoy taking him in your mouth more than whatever this was?

Shamefully or not, you let yourself pretend that Aegon was not the man standing above you. That it was Aemond instead, enjoying what you were keen to give him and praising you for being so eager to taste him. 

You wished so hard that it was Aemond instead, that for a moment, when you gazed upwards it was him looking down at you with his hair falling perfectly and his eyepatch discarded. Alas, it was King Aegon, who revelled in staring at you with an amusement coupled with bliss that only felt belittling. 

It did set your body into a light rush of arousal but you couldn’t stop the doubts that flooded your mind. Were you dishonouring the sanctity of your body out of spite? Were you betraying the man you almost loved just to have a jab at him? Guilty tickles grew in your ribcage but you distracted yourself from it, focusing on the way that Aegon steered your movements. 

“Shit,” he hissed. Aegon’s hand found the back of your head and he adjusted your pace how he preferred. “Use your hand. What doesn’t fit–hold it.”

It became slightly easier once you found your rhythm, following each instruction that Aegon gave, drinking in the way his thigh trembled under your hand that rested against it, holding yourself stable as you hollowed your cheeks. Whatever you did, it almost came naturally and Aegon seemed to be enjoying it far more than you had expected. 

But it quickly became too much–Aegon started thrusting in a way that didn’t match your movements and you gagged, eyes burning at the ache of him hitting the top of your throat. You made a noise, pulling off and gasping for air, whining as he tugged your mouth back to him and chuckling. Lungs burning, you tried to meet whatever pace Aegon was moving at in an attempt to make things more comfortable. 

You reminded yourself of why you were here. The image of Aemond, head thrown back and groans slipping past his lips as he let that woman take him in his mouth. The image of Aemond, head buried between her legs, the skin on his chin glistening as he smirked at you while pleasure another woman. 

The feeling when your courtly acquaintances who you once thought of as friends would slyly belittle you for failing to give your husband an heir, belittling you because word of his infidelity had reached their gossiping mouths, belittling you because the Prince who they loathed you for having was hardly yours after all. The looks that they had given you, the way that they snickered and sneered at your failures as his wife. Whispers you had overheard from Lords alike; that for such a pretty thing, you must have been dreadfully dull in the ways of pleasure if Prince Aemond of all men had resorted to whores. 

That was how they all saw you; a failure. Because it was never a man’s fault but always his wife’s. 

You loathe to think that Aemond harboured the same thoughts. But you would show him how mistaken he was and make him feel what you had felt so that he would regret it all. 

“Fuck-” Aegon let out a drawn out groan as he pushed your head down, pushing himself as far down your throat as he could. You struggled to breath and you gagged twice but let him move you as he pleased, a satisfactory moan vibrating against his sensitive skin when he threw his head back and grumbled about spilling himself down your throat. 

It was a chaotic moment. 

The protest of the kingsguard through the wall and the bang of the door slamming open and you didn’t even need to turn and look. Aemond was seething, barely given the chance to put the pieces together before Aegon simultaneously groaned and laughed, the salty taste of his seed gliding past a sensitive part of your throat and pulling another gag from you as you yanked yourself away from Aegon. 

Everything seemed to pause for a moment. And despite the obnoxious laughter coming from the King as he tucked himself back into his breeches, the heavy breathing of your husband and your gasps for air, everything felt silent. 

Your blood ran hot at the way Aemond looked between you and Aegon. Nonetheless you met his eye, holding your chin up and wiping a bead of Aegon’s peak from your lip. 

It felt good. Watching as Aemond forced himself back into his stoic resolve; only bothering to subdue the way his eye filled with the same betrayal you still felt in your gut at the thought of the whore who had been on her knees for him in an almost identical way. 

Stoicism and slow, simmering, silent rage. 

The air around you turned hot enough to light a candle. Aemond’s presence alone had proven to be enough to send you spiralling from the heat he encased you in whenever he was in the same room but this? You were choking, sick to your stomach and doing your best to keep your knees from buckling at his intensity. 

Aemond heard Aegon ramble out some hideous insult, watched how you frowned at him and heard the echoes of his cackle. But the ringing in his ears overwhelmed it all and he had no clue what his brother had taunted him with before his fist met Aegon’s cheek with a loud crack.

He didn’t bother sparing his brother a second glance. Aemond was stood in front of you and despite his obvious anger, he pulled you up from where you were seated with a gentleness which had your mind reeling. 

There was a threat hidden in his voice. “Come with me. Now.”

Perhaps you had made a mistake. The gentle fury in Aemond was terrifying and even though you knew he would never raise a hand at you the way he thoughtlessly did at Aegon, there were so many ways that a Prince could ruin you. 

You felt a pit of regret now that it was over and the curtain of lust had lifted. It was easy to see how simple it is to get lost in the touch of another but it was easier to see how simple it is to avoid it. 

There was satisfaction. And you felt it simultaneously with the adrenaline of being caught and the doubts of your actions. Princes and Princesses and Kings and Queens were so unaware of their hypocrisy until it was spat back into their faces. 

Aemond would never in a million years have understood what he was doing to you if you had just been a submissive little wife and forgiven him. But now? Now he would know. And now things would be balanced and your desire to hurt him as he had done you has been fulfilled. And now you could see how this marriage would really stand against such tests.

And now, you may finally know whether Aemond truly did not care for you. Because if Aemond did not care for you–or even in part; love you–then he would not be hurt and he would not be feeling such betrayal.

Right now, as Aemond silently walked you towards his chambers, hands fisted, jaw clenched tightly and his gaze fixed ahead, you were fearful of how things would fare. As strong as you wished for your resolve to stay, Aemond’s disappointment was showing you a new weakness. And his words, you knew, if they were used as weapons then you would stand little chance against them. There was a heavy weight against your lower back where his hand sat, pushing you gently so that you glided through the halls faster. 

It wasn’t a long journey back to Aemond’s quarters. But it felt like hours to the Prince, the nausea in his gut silencing him the entire way. He felt like a child again, presented with a pig instead of a dragon, the shrill laughs of his cousins and his brother striking him with flashes of humiliation. 

Again and again and again, Aegon would do whatever he could to see Aemond crumble. Aegon would always take Aemond’s dignity, his honour, his crown. And now he just had to take his wife? 

Aemond shut the doors to his chambers roughly and you were quick to put some distance between the two of you. There was a hollow ball of guilt and fear that caught in your throat but you couldn’t deny the elation at the mixture of emotions in Aemond’s eye as he turned to face you. 

It was a reflection of how you had felt upon finding Aemond in bed with another. He would finally understand. 

Only Aemond was worlds away from the damned arousal you had felt and instead it was replaced with a youthful dread, a panic that you had never seen from him before now. 

There was hardly a moment for you to register the harshness of Aemond’s grip on your bicep as he pulled you toward the bowl that was kept by his bath, filled with clean water and accompanied by a tray of freshening oils. He lightly shoved you toward it as he let you go, unfazed by the sound of shock that you could not hold back. 

“Wash your mouth,” he spat. Although your back was to him, you could feel how he suppressed the extent of his rage as he was ever so good at doing. “And then we will talk.”

You bit your tongue and did as he said, wincing at the ice in his words and the angry strain of his voice. There was a lot that you wanted to say, to scream at him. He was angry–and to some extent he had every right to be–but how could Aemond have expected you to be okay with something that he clearly could not take on the chin?

But the way he had held you, the tone of his voice and the harshness in his glare had you wondering if revenge was worth whatever comes next. Because, amongst the whirlwind of fear and guilt and regret was gratification and fulfilment. 

The prickle of Aemond’s glare had disappeared before you were ready to dry your mouth with a towel. Quiet as ever, he had snuck away and by the time you had realised, the sound of the door shutting and the click of the lock had notified you of his absence. 

Aemond had locked you in. When you had swiftly tried to push the doors open, unaware of where you would go and truthfully not intending to leave in the first place, it didn’t budge. And when you called for the kingsguard who stood at the other side of the door, you went unanswered aside from a curt reply that he had been ordered not to let you leave. 

So you had resigned yourself to sitting atop Aemond’s bed rather than the seating arrangements scattered around the rest of the quarters. It smelled strongly of lavender, leather and Aemond’s very own scent–the one that always had you on the verge of drooling. But it only sent your nerves into overdrive, afraid that the consequences of your vengefulness, no matter how satisfying it was initially, may be too dire to recover from. 

The thought of whatever Aemond had planned for Aegon was not nice. You were correct in assuming that your tryst with Aegon would only cut your husband deeper because it was Aegon. The depth of whatever issues these brothers shared was far beyond you but you had only assumed that all second born princes would be affected in such a way. And Targaryen’s were full of complexities, each believing that they were better than everyone. Even their own siblings. 

Aegon had known that his younger brother would become nothing short of murderous. But he had never been a man to avoid even the slightest of temptations. Both the idea of indulging in you and inflaming the ever unresponsive Aemond were far more than slightly tempting. It would be worth the bloodied nose, the split lip and the sick that he’d spewed over his shoes when Aemond had returned to grace him with an inhumanly strong hit to his balls. Somehow, Aemond had made that act of violence seem like child’s play with the threats that he had rained down upon Aegon. 

King Aegon, who simply did not know when to keep his mouth shut and had all but asked for it with the way he taunted Aemond with a sentence he never had the chance to complete. “Seeing as you cannot satisfy even your own wife-”

He wasn’t there long. Aemond’s angry mind was racing and he couldn’t think past the red of his rage. But Aemond still knew better than to stay where he would surely commit a treason he would regret. 

Whatever fury Aemond had unleashed upon Aegon in the short time he was away had seemed to calm him down. He was still clearly angry when he stepped back into his quarters but there was a far less frightening storm brewing in his eye. 

At his return, you had stood from the bed. The air was sucked right out of the room when Aemond stood right in front of you, so close that you could count the creases in the leather of his eyepatch. There was a tense silence in which he stared at you, waiting for you to fold but you only held your head high and met his gaze stubbornly. 

Minutes had passed before Aemond spoke. His voice was far softer than you had expected and he seemed to have settled down a bit as he dragged his knuckles across your cheek, only to grip your chin so that you could not look away from him. Aemond held you tightly but not tight enough that it hurt.

“Enough of this,” It was an order, stern and unrelenting. “No more. This was a step too far-”

You scoffed in his face. “A step too far? Had you not done the same thing?”

Aemond had never in his life apologised for anything. He never felt sorry. And he never wished to admit to his mistakes. But here he was, face to face with the effects of one of the biggest mistakes he had made. If there were anything he could have done aside from apologise, he would have done it. But it was the only thing that would ease the mess of guilt that had arisen inside of him. For what he had done with the whore and for everything he hadn’t done for your marriage. 

“It was a mistake. If I could undo it, I would,” I’m sorry. “This was childish of you. Vengefulness is unbecoming.”

There was a beastly disgust that Aemond felt when he thought of another man even looking at you. The image of Aegon’s cock in your mouth, his seed leaking from your lips made him want to burn the entire realm to ashes. Aemond’s eye trailed along your jaw, to your neck and then down past your stomach. Did Aegon touch you where only he was to touch you?

Fuck treason. Aemond would feed Aegon to Vhagar if he had indulged in your body. 

“It is more than vengeance. You would not have understood what I felt. How I suffered because of you and your whore,” you tried your best to keep your voice stable. The lump in your throat and the tears that blurred your vision forced you to pull out of Aemond’s grip and turn your back to him. “You promised me you would never do that. You dishonoured me. You insulted me. You hurt me–Aemond, do you have any idea the things that they say about me?”

Aemond frowned and you could not see how he reached for you, only to drop his hand back to his side. “I–”

“That I am a failure. That I am-that I am so repulsive and so dull that you cannot even lay with me to produce an heir,” you couldn’t help the sob that escaped you. “And I saw what she was doing to you, what you were doing to her. I could never even have imagined the existence of such an act that had given you so much pleasure-”

“There was no true pleasure with her.” Aemond mumbled. Pathetically. 

Pathetic was exactly the word. Aemond may have been good with a sword, in a fight, with his dragon and when strategizing wars. But he was a pathetic husband–a pathetic partner, a pathetic lover. And he had the urge to take out his good eye for being so mindless and so ignorant. 

Hindsight was his worst enemy, it seemed. Because in hindsight, Aemond would have done everything differently, right from the moment you were introduced to him.

“Lie. It was clear, Aemond. They are all right, are they not?” You felt him step into you, his warm chest against your back. Leather and lavender and him. “I have failed. My womb is still empty. The last time you visited my bed was moons ago. I know you do not love me, my Prince, but I have love for you. Men are not the only ones who need intimacies of the body–I needed that and you have never given me anything. Yet you gave it to her. I wished to hurt you as you had hurt me.”

There were no words that Aemond could find. So he settled for shaking his head and watching you as you sat yourself down on the edge of his bed, staring down at your hands on your lap. You were so wrong in your perception of him but he couldn’t find the words to explain that. But Aemond decided in that moment that he would show you, one way or another. He hesitated before sitting beside you. 

You couldn’t meet his eye if you tried. It was as if your body was telling you to stop talking, that these thoughts were too painful to share, feelings too abstract and tender to put into words. 

“It is wretched, I know–to have turned to Aegon,” you felt him tense beside you and against your better judgement, you placed a hand on his thigh in an attempt to give him some comfort. “I wished to hurt you but I also wished to learn. I thought maybe if I knew how to-how to do things that would make you feel good so that maybe you would feel for me as I have for you. Aegon said he could show me. It is ridiculous, I understand that now.”

Aemond took your hand in his, the heat of your skin against his was fierce for such an insignificant action. He hated that it was easier for you to turn to Aegon than it was to turn to him. “I could have shown you. I can show you so much more. If only we had been honest with each other from the beginning.”

“I thought you do not want me.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. It would be less painful to drive his own dagger through his heart. “I crave for you, my love. I was just too stubborn to admit it and too afraid of what it means. And I did not know how to show you how badly I burn for you.”

The sight of tears had never fazed him until they were yours. Aemond was not particularly pious, he prayed simply because his mother had raised him to pray, but he would be on his knees every hour of every day if it meant that he could take these feelings away from you. If it meant that he could take it all back and start over. 

“I am sorry. No more of this,” you said. “No more seeking out the touch of anyone else in place of each other.”

“I will be a better husband,” Aemond stated, as if he were telling it to himself as much as he was to you. “I will try for our marriage and our duty. And for you.”

“Your promises haven’t proven to mean much to me. All is not forgiven just because we have talked,” You sighed, but gave him a weak smile, turning to look at him. 

He gazed down at you with determination, his jaw tight and his eye glistening with tears that wouldn’t fall. There was no attempt to push you away when you reached up to take off the leather that covered his bad eye. You wanted to see him as he was, even if only for a moment.

Gods, he was beautiful. 

As you stood you forced your smile to turn lighthearted as you teased him through your heavy hearts. “Jealousy motivates you well, my Prince. I shall remember that.”

Aemond hummed, mostly serious as his hands tightly grabbed your hips. “Do not jest like that. I will not be able to look at Aegon without dreaming of murdering him for defiling you how only I should. I cannot afford such treasonous fantasies.”

There was a silent threat in his words. Nonetheless, you leaned down to his ear, gasping gently at the harshness of his fingers squeezing the flesh of your hips. Just his hands on your body alone set you alight. 

“Perhaps my husband should leave the door to his bedchambers open tonight,” you let out a small laugh at the way that he pulled you to straddle his lap so suddenly, gently nipping the skin of his earlobe. You weren’t quite done messing with him. 

“Is that so?” He smiled and you thought that it made him all the more beautiful. 

“Yes,” you smirked, when he groaned frustratedly at your next words, softly throwing you onto the bed. “I may wish to show you exactly what I have learned.”

[vettelsvee]

DON'T BELIEVE WHAT THEY SAY | Oscar Piastri

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oscar piastri x gf!reader

summary: reader is quite insecure about herself due to fans and paps comments, and oscar tries to comfort her

word count: 1206

warning: wait till the end and tell me if you'd like a part 2 *kiss kiss*. reader feeling insecure about herself and thinking she's not good enough (remember: you are good enough, don't hear what others say!). use of y/n. corrected the translation at almost 1am so i apologize if there are mistakes

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback as well as comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! <3

After a long day in the paddock, and after a race that was supposed to be the highlight of the season but ended in a DNF for Oscar, your boyfriend decided to cheer both of you up by inviting you to have dinner in a fancy restaurant. You have been in a relationship for several years since you both were high school sweethearts, so sometimes the romance wore thin. Today, he wanted to give his best after a day worth to forget.

Lately, he had noticed that your behavior was a bit strange. You seemed uncomfortable with yourself, and your self-esteem was at an all-time low, judging by the unpleasant comments you had been making lately about herself. Moreover, the media and "fans" criticism didn't help either, as paparazzi and journalists had been harassing and spreading rumors about Oscar cheating on you, or that you have been gaining too much weight for Piastri’s liking. All of them, among others, were damaging your relationship slowly. 

For those two reasons, and because he felt like changing the scenery after the weekly training stress, Oscar told you that you would go out to enjoy a peaceful dinner. He was conscious of all of those criticism, and he was going to remind you how special you were to him and most of it, how perfect you were for him. Also, that you shouldn’t give a damn shit about others opinions, specially when Oscar was the one dating and loving you.

Although you initially resisted to go because you didn’t want to be the center of attention once again, you finally accepted because you knew it hadn’t been an easy day for your boyfriend. You dressed in a beautiful electric blue dress he had gifted you for you birthday las year, and decided not to wear makeup and jewelry. However, you still felt nervous. It was the presence of paparazzi, who followed you wherever you went, made you feel increasingly insecure about yourself and your relationship once again.

In those moments, you thought that Oscar deserved a girl better than you.

"Love," you addressed you boyfriend, a bit hesitant. "Do I look fine like this?"

"My God, Y/N… You're perfect. You always are."

You looked at yourself in the mirror once again. You tried to fake a smile, but you didn't like what you saw in front of you.

"I don't know… I feel a bit ridiculous in this dress," you explained. "Do I look too fat? I don’t think this color suits me very well either..."

"Don't say that," Oscar scolded, approaching you. "It looks amazing on you. Do you remember when I gave it to you? You loved it! You have been wanting it, for months actually, and even though you didn't say it, your face said it all."

"Yes, I remember perfectly, but the problem is that I don't feel comfortable with myself," you continued. "I'm tired of everything that's being said about us and the opinions people seem to have about us. To be honest with you, every day I feel more like… well, that I don’t deserve to be in your life. At least, not as your girlfriend.”  

Oscar sighed. He knew you were right. He was pretty conscious about the media and obsessive fans’ behaviour towards you, and he didn’t like that part of fame either, especially when it was for no reason, and because they had no right to comment on your relationship, which was definitely private, but not secret.

You started to cry shily. He did nothing but hesitate to hug you and make your head rest on his chest. He immediately starting to stroke your hair while gently rocking you from side to side, trying his best to calm you down.

"That shouldn't worry you because you're the most important person to me," he assured you. "I love you just the way you are, for the worst and the better, and I’ll keep doing so every day for the rest of my life, ok?."

"Yeah, I know," you said, pulling away from him quite angrily, "The thing here is that I don't care about what you think, but what other people think. I hate that there are people who are spending their free time, or not so free, making theories about us as if we were a Marvel movie!t”

"Darling..."

"Don’t," you exclaimed, interrupting him, "I understand, and I respect, that you're a public figure, but that doesn't mean I can't be tired of the treatment I receive from girls that are in love with you! Aren't they such big fans of yours, and do they admire and love you so much, that they can't have a minimum of respect for the person you share your life with?"

Oscar knew you were right.

"Don't let that worry you," he explained. "What matters is that you and I love each other, and it's not a fake relationship like many out there, so don't let the negative comments affect you. Remember: those people don't deserve even a second of your thoughts."

"Well..." you replied simply. "It's difficult, Osc… I feel like people are analyzing and judging me all the time, no matter what I do."

Your boyfriend sighed again. He didn't know what to do to calm you down. Seeing you hurt made him feel really bad. Although he was familiar with the daily attention and hate comments, it didn't mean you, his girlfriend, had to get used to them. He felt frustrated and worried for you because, even though he knew you were aware that negative attention was part of the deal you signed when you started dating back in high school, it didn't mean you weren't bothered by seeing the love of your life being constantly mocked.

Oscar started thinking what to do. He wanted to make you happy, but if going out to have dinner isn’t what you desired that night… 

"What do you think if, instead of going out, we stay here, at the hotel?" he proposed to you. Immediately, you seemed a bit cheered up by the suggestion. "We can order something and have dinner in bed while watching a movie or a series you fancy."

"Really? You don't mind? I'm sure you already had the reservation made, and I really feel so bad..."

"Of course I don't mind," he explained, giving you a kiss on the forehead. "You are the most important thing in my life, so I will do whatever it takes to make you feel better."

Your eyes were still red, but you tried to feel better and fake you were ok. You hugged Oscar and thanked him again for what he just did.

Immediately, you both snuggled up in bed while watching a movie you chose, while Oscar phoned to the hotel’s reception so you could have room service for dinner. Pizza, most specifically, as you wanted it and told your boyfriend.

You didn’t know, but that moment made Oscar the happiest man on earth. He made you smile, even amidst the sadness. However, it was time to start thinking how he could propose to you in a different way because your insecurity, sadly, ruined his plans to kneel and pull the question.

[ceoofglytchell]

Gilded Cage

Summary: After word of Aegon’s son’s death reaches you, you personally fly to King’s Landing yourself to plead for mercy and to end the senseless bloodshed of the war. Little did you know that once you arrive and come face to face with your uncles, they were not willing to let you leave again. They have always been enamored with you, their sweet little niece, and now they finally have you in their clutches, not willing to let go of you a second time.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Word count: 2995 words

Warnings: incest, Reader is described of having Strong features, Reader is Rhaenyra's and Harwin's second child, brief angst, past friends to enemies to lovers, fluff (kinda), brief nudity, brief kinda dubious consent but also not really (just touches and kisses), the slightest briefest allusions to smut, aegon being a bit of an ass, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I am back! As always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated and please remember that english is not my native language 💛

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How had it come to this?

You asked yourself this question over and over again as you sat in the warm water of the bathtub, the smell of various oils enveloping you, while Prince Aemond knelt by your side, gently washing your back with one hand, while his other hand stroked through your long brown hair that marked you as one of Rhaenyra Targaryen's bastards.

Exactly three days ago, you had flown in haste to King's Landing on the back of your dragon in the early hours of the morning after a raven had arrived on Dragonstone, bringing hearsay of a gruesome crime in which two men had entered the Red Keep and murdered the king's son in the most horrific manner. Rumor had it that these men had been sent by your mother as revenge for the murder of your younger brother Lucerys, but that was not true. It was not her, she would never do that - at least that was what you chose to believe. You hadn't waited long enough to listen to any explanations.

In the dragon pit you were immediately met by Ser Criston Cole, the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, who had escorted you back to the castle in silence and in chains. The castle where you had grown up and in whose halls you had once felt safe and happy was still in a state of chaos and you had heard Aegon's angry shouting on the way to the council chamber. Every step had been difficult and then he had suddenly stormed out of the chamber and your face had been the first thing he saw, his own face wet with tears.

You didn't hold it against him that he had immediately grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you against the nearest wall, demanding answers that you could not give him. You had come to beg for forgiveness, not to incur the king's wrath. But what exactly had you expected? He would never have welcomed you with open arms - just like your mother would not have welcomed any of them.

You didn't hold it against Aegon for shouting at you, cursing you, demanding that you be locked up in the dungeons as a traitor to the crown, after all he had just lost his three year old son. His son, whom you had only recently met and you had immediately understood why he loved that little boy so much. He was now a grieving father and now you had to serve as his scapegoat - which you accepted, since you had foolishly put yourself in that position.

You hadn't expected to run into Aemond on your way to the dungeons, though, while Cole had held your arm so tightly that you could still see a bruise on your delicate skin. The one-eyed prince had been the one who had taken your other arm, gently, and then led you in the other direction, away from the dungeons and away from the darkness that had nearly swallowed you up, while Ser Criston disappeared again to continue his own duties.

Your closest companion during your childhood, your first love, had come to save you, but you had quickly learned that instead of saving you, he had put you in a cage. One that you could no longer escape from, since you were all alone in these halls. And the king was still raging.

Aegon had now hanged the ratcatchers instead of you, and from what you had heard, his grandfather the Hand had not been very pleased with this decision, since only a few hours earlier a funeral march had been held for the young prince, with the queens being forced to attend.

You hadn't attended the funeral, of course, because you were just another prisoner of the Greens, but instead of chains, you were kept in a gilded cage, metaphorically speaking. Your cage was your old chambers and your captor was the prince who had murdered your brother, and that man was treating you with such gentleness right now that you couldn't believe he was even capable of killing, but he was. The sword he was carrying, which stood on the wall opposite the tub, was like a silent threat, a warning sign for you to behave and not step out of line. You only had his sympathy as long as you kept quiet and let him do whatever he wanted.

It was better for you and for everyone involved.

Yesterday he had tried to talk to you, but since you didn't answer, he apparently decided to stay quiet this evening so it would be easier for him and for you. He probably thought that this way you could pretend he was someone dear to you instead of your childhood friend who ended up plunging the kingdom into war. But he didn't know that you were actually thinking about him the whole time.

The way his hand slid down your spine, the way he ran his other hand through your hair, twirling a few strands around his long fingers, and the way his warm breath brushed against your neck. It also didn't help that you weren't wearing any clothes, while he was still wrapped in his leathers, a sign that he hadn't let you close to him and back into his heart yet, but it was the same with you. It didn't mean much to you that you were bare and vulnerable, because your silent resistance consisted of not saying a word, not even looking at him and certainly not giving him the smile that had always comforted him in your childhood.

"Come, the water is getting cold," he spoke suddenly into the silence of the chambers, where the only other sound was the gentle flickering of the candles that stood around, as they gave you warmth and security. You had to thank the servants for lighting them for you in the first place, because the young king probably still wanted the opposite if he hadn't calmed down yet.

The one-eyed prince gently grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the spacious bathtub, whereupon, as soon as your feet touched the floor again and small drops of water hit the cold stone, he wrapped you in a light robe made of golden silk so as not to tempt him.

You were just tying the soft robe around your waist when suddenly the door opened and a very sad and very drunk looking Aegon stumbled into the darkly lit rooms, a full cup of wine in his hand. He straightened his stature when he saw the two of you and blinked in surprise, a small laugh escaping him, as he had not expected to find his younger brother here while you stood next to him, wearing nothing but a robe and your skin and hair still wet.

Aemond the Fierce, indeed.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Aegon, letting the heavy wooden doors slam shut behind him, shutting out the world and everything else.

"The princess was just going to bed," Aemond explained on your behalf as he led you a few steps away from the bathtub and towards your bed. The sun had not even fully set yet and he was already about to send you to bed. You usually only slipped under the covers late at night, as you were always able to concentrate better in the late hours - a night owl instead of a dragon.

"What, now?" He looked at you both in confusion and took another sip from his cup, showing no reaction to the strong wine. He had always grimaced back then, you remembered well. He was also the first person to ever hold a cup of wine to your lips.

"She is tired."

"She seems very awake to me."

"She needs to sleep."

"Can she not speak for herself?"

You looked down stubbornly at the floor, not looking at your eldest uncle, who had robbed your mother of her throne, or your brother's murderer, because you didn't know how to behave around them, as both of them still had a reason to wish you harm. Aemond because of the past and as a power play and Aegon because of the murder of Jaehaerys, because nobody knew exactly who had sent the murderers.

"You know her, of course she can. She just does not want to." Aemond said and placed a finger under your chin and pushed it up slightly so that you were forced to look up at him and look into his one amethyst-colored eye.

"Perhaps we should make her?" Aegon suggested and came to stand beside the pair of you, almost falling over the edge of the bathtub, which thankfully didn't happen, even though it would have elicited a good laugh from you.

"You won't touch her."

One sentence. From now on, this one sentence would make up the very bones of the relationship between you and it had all started when he spoke it through gritted teeth with a slightly frustrated undertone, surprising you and his brother.

"Why? Look how lovely she is, I don't know how long I can resist, brother." Aegon reached out his hand to stroke your soft, rosy cheek, but Aemond was faster and grabbed his wrist, which he held tightly and looked at the older brother with such a piercing gaze that for a moment you feared that you were about to witness another act of kinslaying.

Aegon blinked in a mixture of confusion and shock, as he had never believed his little brother would ever turn against him like that. Especially not when it was because of a woman, but he had apparently always been sensitive about that topic. Had he ever shared a bed with anyone other than the madam?

"Careful now. I am your king."

Aemond tilted his head, his long silver hair falling over one shoulder and a small grin pulling the corners of his mouth upward, but it seemed more mocking than kindhearted. "And am I not your best sword? Do I not deserve a reward for my loyal service to the crown?"

You. You were the reward he spoke of, and both you and Aegon recognized that the moment the words left his mouth. Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open slightly, because the last thing you expected was that your uncle would ever show you such affection again, although you doubted that it was actually true affection, but rather a darker feeling - possessiveness.

"I wanted to claim her as my prize of war. In exchange for your lost son, the Whore of Dragonstone loses her only daughter."

A small, barely perceptible scoff left your lips at the title Aemond gave your mother, but to your regret, the two men had heard you very well and both of them wanted to hear more from you. Your soft, melodic voice, your sweet laugh, your soft sighs... They both wanted more.

"What? Is that not a fitting name for your mother, sweetling?" Aegon provoked and you could swear that one of your hands clenched into a fist, ready to teach him a lesson that he would remember even in months to come, but you didn't. A part of you still felt sorry for him and you knew that on the one hand he was drunk but on the other hand he was still grieving, but in his own way, which was not particularly healthy.

Aemond let go of his wrist and instead placed both of his hands on your shoulders, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn't run away and as if he wanted to show you again who had the upper hand here.

"How about Bitch Queen of Bastards?"

Your hand shot forward, but before it could hit his pale cheek, your other uncle had already grabbed your arm, causing you to growl in frustration.

"Ah, ah, ah, I could have you executed for trying to hit your king, dove."

"Bastard." You insulted him as you tried to free your arm from Aemond's grip, but the one-eyed prince didn't let go, not even for a moment. The brothers might have their differences, but when necessary, they clearly stuck together and protected each other. Despite all of this, their relationship was tainted by the jokes Aegon had made during their childhood, and Aemond would probably never forget that. You could still remember the joke with the pig and how you had consoled him afterward. However, there had also been a few moments when you had held the older prince - now king - tightly in your arms while he buried his tear-streaked face in your brown curls.

Even then, both brothers had been very dear to you, and now that you were all grown up, you no longer knew what your heart wanted, while your mind screamed at you to never let them get close to you again.

"He is a bastard? Do you speak like that to your brothers as well, little one?" Aemond whispered, his warm breath brushing against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and your heart leaping in your chest.

"Idiot." You spat over your shoulder, causing the man behind you to gently shake his head, while a quiet chuckle escaped him that a part of you wanted to hear again and again and again so that you could engrave it in your memories.

"What happened to our sweet little niece? I hardly recognize her, brother, do you?"

When had Aegon gotten so close to you? You could feel Aegon and Aemond's breath on your skin and feel the warmth of their bodies transfer to yours. The feeling was intoxicating and you had to make an effort not to do something you would surely regret later.

"You have to look into her eyes. There you will see the ghost of her," murmured Aemond, leaning his head against yours and pressing his sharp nose against your hair, inhaling your scent to remind him later, when he would be alone in his chambers and nothing but the memory of you would plague his every thought as it had been for the past few years, and would probably never change.

Aegon took his brother's suggestion to heart and looked down into your dark doe-like eyes, but all he saw was silent defiance and a spark of something else he would love to taste - a forbidden fruit just waiting to be consumed by him.

He couldn't hold back any longer.

"Oh, fuck it," with those words he leaned towards you and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you as if it were the only and last time he would ever have the opportunity to.

The sight of his fool of a brother kissing your lips ignited a fire in the kinslayer and he immediately pushed the king away from you and stood between your smaller frame and him, his hands clenched into fists and his one eye glaring daggers at the other man.

"How dare you taste her before I do? We had an agreement!”

Aegon laughed heartily as you stared at your uncle’s back, breathing heavily, not understanding what was happening. Three days ago he had wanted to lock you in the dungeons and now he was kissing you like his life depended on it.

“Our agreement was that you could have her first, but we never discussed kissing. I allowed myself that honor.”

“One more word-”

Before Aemond could take another step toward his older brother, you grabbed his hand, surprising yourself and him, as well as the king, who reached for his cup again to calm his nerves. The prince looked back at you, his one eye wide and his cheeks flushed, and you had to stop yourself from jumping into his arms and kissing him like Aegon had just kissed you, and then you would kiss the other brother again, and then over and over again, until they were all sated.

"Don't hurt him, uncle. You can have me." You didn't know what had possessed you to say that, but you couldn't change it now anyway. You had awakened the dragon, and he probably wouldn't be satisfied with simply looking at you anymore.

You loved your mother, but your two uncles had long since captured your heart, and they too seemed to be completely infatuated with you, their sweet little niece, but you couldn't complain.

"And what about me? Will I be allowed to have you too? At least once?" asked Aegon, placing his now empty wine cup on the dresser next to him, because he would choose you over alcohol any single day. You were like the sun that lit up the sky, his personal sun, even though a few days ago he had feared for a moment that you had broken his heart and taken his boy from him, but it was brought to him recently that you had absolutely nothing to do with it, whereupon a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

"You will have to learn to share."

Your words caused the two of them to look at each other for a long moment before Aemond let out a long sigh and a wide grin formed on Aegon's face.

The moment both brothers pulled you close and began to kiss both sides of your neck, you knew that this was going to be a long night and that the conflict in your heart would only get worse, because if you were faced with the choice, who would you choose in the end - your mother or the men you loved?

Who would it be when the war would be unstoppable and more blood would be shed? You had no answer to that, but what you knew for sure was that you could never go back to who you once were. You were theirs now and they were yours. Forever.

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[authortelevision]

arthur frederick and the new producer: chapter 3 ₊˚⊹♡

words: 4,350 ✦ .ᐟ

♯┆arthurtv slow burn, bach and arthur podcast

after lara leaves bach and arthur’s podcast, you become her replacement. after discovering that arthur hates change, it takes a lot for him to warm up to you and become friends. it also takes a lot for him to admit how he truly feels about you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Chapter Two

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Chapter Three ₊˚⊹♡

The studio is buzzing with the usual pre-recording activity. You can feel the nerves in the air, though they’re not as sharp today. You’re feeling a little more confident than before, despite the lingering tension from the last few days. Today’s recording feels like it has the potential to be a breakthrough.

Before you start, you glance over at Arthur, trying to break the ice. “Oh, and thanks, Arthur, for saying I looked nice the other day,” you say with a small, light smile. It feels like a safe way to acknowledge the compliment, even if you’re still not entirely sure what to make of it.

Arthur pauses for a moment, his hand still hovering over the controls, before he looks up at you. His expression changes more than you’ve ever seen it before, his eyes were wide like he was surprised you knew. “Yeah. I did,” he replies, his voice strangely flat as he regained his composure.

You can’t quite read the tone, but you force a smile and turn back to your equipment. It wasn’t much, but it was something. At least you acknowledged it, right? But before you can feel too good about it, Arthur’s attention shifts back to what he was doing. He starts talking to everyone in his usual positive tone, that he speaks to everyone but you with.

As the recording begins, you’re hyper-aware of his proximity. He’s on the other side of the room, microphone in front of him, but the way he critiques you and no one else around him makes it impossible to fully relax. Arthur is meticulous, and every word that leaves his mouth sometimes feels a little more like criticism than direction.

“You need to hold your mic a little closer,” he tells Isaac, who’s adjusting the angle of his microphone. “It’ll pick up better sound if it’s just a bit closer to your mouth.”

Isaac nods, adjusting without a word, and you can’t help but feel that familiar weight in the air, the subtle sense that Arthur’s standards are always hovering just out of reach.

When it’s your turn to speak, you can feel his eyes on you, sharp as ever. You know the tone in his voice when he’s about to comment. “You’re rushing through that,” Arthur says, his voice cold, distant. “Try to pace yourself a bit more. It’ll sound more natural.”

You bite your lip, nodding. You were trying to get through it, trying to keep the energy up, but his feedback feels like it’s still focused more on the flaws than on the positives.

You push through the rest of the session, trying to focus on what you are doing. As much as Arthur’s distant tone stings, you know this is what he does. He’s critical, sometimes to a fault, but you’re learning to navigate it. Still, that part of you, the part that wants to be accepted and liked, can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever truly break through that wall he keeps up.

The session continues, and you remind yourself to focus. Keep your head in the game. You’re doing your job, and no matter how critical Arthur gets, you’re here to make this podcast better.

You kick off your shoes as soon as you walk into the flat, the door closing with a soft click behind you. The weight of the day is already starting to settle in, that familiar knot of frustration tightening in your chest. You toss your bag on the sofa and head straight for the kitchen, hoping a glass of water might ease your mind.

Emma’s sitting at the counter, scrolling through her phone, like usual, until she looks up when you walk in. She doesn’t have to say anything. The way you’re moving, like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, is enough of a cue.

“Long day?” she asks, after knowing her for all this time, she just kind of knows when you’re stressed.

“You have no idea,” you mutter, grabbing a glass. “Arthur is impossible to read.”

You pour yourself some water, your mind already racing through the events of the day. You can still feel Arthur’s eyes on you, the odd mix of a compliment and a coldness that follows. It’s like he can’t make up his mind whether he wants to be a complete jerk or at least acknowledge you as a person.

Emma raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything yet. She’s learned that sometimes you need to work through things out loud first.

“I swear, he’s so confusing,” you continue, leaning against the counter as you take a sip. “He complimented me yesterday, told me I looked nice, which… I don’t know, it felt like a big deal. But then he was still acting like I was doing everything wrong during the recording. And I can’t tell if he’s just being critical, or if he’s annoyed with me, or both. He literally can’t make up his mind.”

Emma’s face softens as she listens, clearly understanding where the frustration is coming from. She pushes herself off the counter, walking over to where you’re standing.

“Sounds like he’s being a classic mixed signal guy,” she says, leaning against the kitchen island. “He says something nice, and then immediately goes back to being a critic, like he doesn’t know how to handle being… well, nice. It’s like he wants to soften things but doesn’t know how.”

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling sharply. “Exactly! He can’t even give a compliment without trying to backpedal, and then when he’s being critical, it feels like he’s just trying to keep me in my place. Like he can’t let his guard down for even a second.”

Emma chuckles, but there’s no humor in it, only understanding. “Sounds like he’s got some weird boundaries. Or, he’s just not used to working with someone new and doesn’t know how to handle it. Maybe he’s trying to figure out where he fits in this whole thing.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, frustrated. “Maybe. But it’s hard to figure out. Why did he even compliment me when the next day he’s acting like I can’t do anything right. I’m just trying to do my job, but it feels like I’m constantly walking on eggshells around him.”

Emma crosses her arms. “You know, it’s not your job to decode his moods. You’re there to do your job, not play therapist to a guy with mood swings. If he can’t make up his mind, that’s on him, not you.”

You let out a long breath, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to ease a little. “Yeah, I know you’re right. It’s just so frustrating. I don’t know if he likes me, if he respects me, or if he thinks I’m doing a terrible job. And I can’t tell if it even matters to him.”

“Of course it matters,” Emma says, “But don’t lose yourself trying to figure him out. Keep doing your thing, and if he’s too much of a dick, you don’t have to keep putting up with it. You’re there for a reason, you’re good at your job. If he can’t see that, that’s his problem, not yours.”

You smile weakly, feeling a little better. It helps to vent, to have someone who gets it, even if she can’t solve the problem for you.

“Thanks, Emma,” you say, grateful for her perspective. “I think I needed that.”

“No problem,” she says with a grin. “Now, are you going to talk about how cute Isaac is, or should we just skip to the part where you obsess about Arthur some more?”

You roll your eyes, but a laugh bubbles up in your chest, easing some of the tension. “He’s literally got a girlfriend you freak. I’m going to bed before you make me spill my entire brain. But seriously, thanks for listening.”

“Anytime,” Emma says, giving you a quick hug. “Go get some rest. Tomorrow’s a new day, and maybe Arthur will stop being a walking red flag.”

You chuckle as you walk past the kitchen, grateful for Emma’s existence. Your mind is still buzzing with thoughts of Arthur, the compliment, the critiques, and the confusing mix of everything in between. But for now, at least you know you can handle it. You just have to keep doing your best, no matter what mood he’s in.

You walk back into your room, still feeling the weight of the conversation with Emma pressing on you. As you shut the door behind you, you sigh, feeling the urge to just zone out for a while. A distraction. Something to take your mind off everything.

You flop onto your bed and grab your phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media for a few minutes. Eventually, you end up on YouTube, opening a random video to let your brain just wander. The title is something unrelated to anything you’ve been dealing with, just a quick laugh before bed, right?

But then your thumb stops, and you freeze for a moment.

There, on the screen, is Arthur.

He’s in a group video with a few friends, laughing so easily, his voice light and genuine as he jokes around with them. You watch for a moment, surprised by how different he looks. In this video, there’s no cold distance, no rigid formality, he’s relaxed, smiling, clearly enjoying himself.

He’s even funny. You hadn’t expected that. He’s laughing so easily with his friends, making jokes and genuinely having a good time, and it stings. The image of him from the recording session earlier, barely acknowledging you except to be a dick, clashes so much with the guy in the video, it’s almost jarring.

You keep watching, biting your lip as you do, a mixture of irritation and confusion brewing in your chest. Arthur is clearly capable of being… well, human. He’s charismatic, funny, and lowkey kind of attractive. Watching him with his friends, you can see a completely different side of him, a side that feels genuine and lovely.

And that just makes you frustrated.

Why couldn’t he act like that around you? Why couldn’t he at least show you that side? Instead, he’s constantly on the defensive, as if every move you make could be the wrong one, as if he’s just waiting for you to mess up. You want to be friends with him, really. You want to break through the cold exterior he’s put up and see the person you’ve just seen on the screen.

But instead, he’s been nothing but distant, and hard to read. It’s like he’s purposely making it difficult for you to get to know him.

You pause the video, staring at the screen for a long moment, the laughter still ringing in your ears.

“God, what is your problem, Arthur?” you mutter under your breath.

Part of you wonders if it’s just a defense mechanism. Maybe he’s afraid of opening up to you because it’s easier to stay distant, easier to stay detached. Or maybe, maybe you’re just a little too eager to decode everything he does.

You shake your head, frustration still gnawing at you. Either way, it’s becoming clear, this whole relationship between you two is going to drive you mad if you don’t get some answers soon.

You move to lay on your bed, phone in hand, staring at the screen. The video of Arthur laughing and having fun with his friends is still fresh in your mind. You’ve been trying to figure him out for weeks, but it’s like you’re only seeing bits and pieces, never the full picture. You can tell there’s more to him than the stiff, professional exterior he puts on at work, and for some reason, you want to know what that is.

Taking a deep breath, you type out the message.

You: Hey, Arthur. I was thinking, maybe we could hang out tomorrow? Just to get to know each other a little better outside of work?

You hesitate for a second, then hit send before you can second-guess yourself. You don’t want to overthink this, even though you’re already doing it.

The reply comes quickly, almost too quickly.

Arthur: Sure, what time?

You blink at the screen, a little taken aback by how fast he responded.

You: How about 2? Maybe grab a coffee or something?

Arthur: Sounds good. See you then.

You can’t help the small grin that tugs at the corner of your mouth. It’s not much, but it’s something. A step toward figuring him out, even if you don’t quite know what you’re expecting yet. You’re just curious, curious about the person he is when he’s not in ‘work mode.’

You’re surprised that Arthur took the coffee thing so seriously. You’ve always known ‘getting a coffee’ to just be saying but with Arthur, everything was just so literal.

You walk into the coffee shop, scanning the room for Arthur. You spot him almost immediately, sitting by the window, looking slightly out of place but calm enough, eyes on his phone. He seems to be waiting for someone but still, there’s something a little stiff about his posture, as if he’s not entirely comfortable here.

You make your way over and sit down across from him. He looks up when you approach. It’s the same reserved Arthur you’ve come to expect, but today, there was something different, like he’s trying a bit harder to make this work.

“Hey,” he says, with a slight nod, his voice a little quieter than usual.

“Hey,” you reply, smiling. “Did you get anything yet?”

“No,” he answers, still looking a little unsure, but he’s looking at you now, not his phone. “I was waiting for you.”

It’s a small thing, but it hits you in a way you weren’t expecting. You smile a little, warmed by the gesture, though you try not to overthink it.

“Thanks,” you say, your voice softening.

He waves it off quickly, his tone more casual now but still a little awkward. “It’s not a problem,” he says, almost like he’s trying to play it down. “You’re my boss, basically. Just trying to get on your good side.”

You smile, surprised, and chuckle a little. His dry humor is unexpected, but it lands in a way you didn’t anticipate.

“Well, thanks for that,” you reply, feeling oddly flattered despite his strange delivery. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Arthur gives a half-smile and shrugs, his gaze drifting for a moment. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind. I normally wait anyway.”

You watch him for a moment, trying to get a read on him. “What do you mean?”

He shifts, clearly a little uncomfortable, but still tries to explain. “I don’t mind waiting, I guess. It’s just how I do things.”

You nod, taking it in, your mind swirling just a little. “Fair enough,” you say, still not fully sure what to make of him, but there’s something about this whole exchange that feels a bit different, maybe even a little more real.

“So,” Arthur continues, his voice dropping back into more neutral territory, “what do you like to drink?”

You tell him your usual order, casual enough, just trying to make conversion, and he nods before getting up to place his own order at the counter. You glance around, feeling a little awkward, but you don’t think much of it as he steps away.

A few minutes later, Arthur returns with not one, but two drinks, his and yours.

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” you say, genuinely surprised. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Arthur places your cup down in front of you, still looking a little stiff but a little more at ease than he was when you first arrived. “It’s no big deal. Just thought I’d get it right. You know, get on the good side.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head at his dry delivery. “I appreciate it, though. Really.”

He shrugs, still avoiding looking at you directly, but his words come a little easier now. “Like I said, it’s no problem.”

You sip your drink, listening as Arthur talks more freely now, the conversation settling into a familiar rhythm, work talk. He’s talking about logistics for the next podcast episode, tossing around ideas, sharing his thoughts on the content. It’s comfortable in a way, but it’s also… exactly what you expected. There’s no attempt to stray from the professional, no small talk, no attempt to get to know each other beyond the scope of your roles in the podcast.

You try to keep up with the conversation, nodding along, but you can’t help the small sense of disappointment creeping in. You were hoping, maybe foolishly, that this time would be different, that you could break the surface a little, have a real conversation, maybe find some common ground outside of the work stuff.

Arthur stops talking for a moment, glancing at you. “You alright?”

You pause, caught off guard. You’ve been staring at your drink a little too long, caught in your thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say quickly, shaking your head, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine.”

But Arthur’s still watching you, his brow furrowed slightly, like he’s trying to figure something out. “You sure?”

“Yeah, just…” You trail off, unsure how to put it into words. “I just thought… I don’t know.” You hesitate, then take a breath, trying to voice what you’re feeling. “I wanted to get to know you outside of the podcast. Like, just as people. Not just… the job.”

Arthur looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he shrugs, almost like it’s no big deal. “Why?”

You blink, feeling the weight of the question pressing down on you. “I don’t know, I just thought it’d be nice. You know? I want us to be friends.”

Arthur stares at you, his face going blank for a split second. The silence stretches for a moment before he responds, his tone casual, almost like he doesn’t understand why it’s a big deal.

“I thought we were.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. You look at him, feeling a pit in your stomach. He thought you were friends? This whole time, the way he’s been acting, cold, distant, sometimes outright rude, and he thinks you’re friends?

You laugh a little, though it sounds more like a nervous exhale than anything else. “Really? After everything? You think we’re friends?”

Arthur looks a little confused now, “I mean, yeah. We work together, right? I thought that’s how this works.”

You stare at him, still processing what he said. “But you’ve been… kind of a dick to me, Arthur.” The words come out before you can stop them. “I don’t feel like we’ve really been friends at all. You’ve barely said anything outside of work, and when you have, it’s mostly been… well, criticism. Not really friendly.”

Arthur goes quiet for a moment, and you can see the cogs turning in his brain through his eyes as he processes your words.

“I didn’t think it was like that,” he says slowly, his voice quieter now. “I thought you were doing your job, I was doing mine. I didn’t think there was any… tension.”

You shake your head, frustrated, though it’s not really with him anymore. “But there is, Arthur. I mean, why are we even here, having this conversation, if you think everything’s fine? You can’t just keep brushing things under the rug and expect it to be okay.”

He’s still quiet for a moment, staring at his cup, clearly thinking, and for once, you can’t quite read him at all. The conversation feels like it’s slipping away, and you’re unsure of where it’s going or if anything will change after this.

Arthur sighs, finally meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird between us.”

You nod, feeling a little lighter but still frustrated. “I just… I don’t know. I wanted to actually be friends, Arthur. I don’t want to keep doing this back-and-forth, professional stuff all the time. It’s tiring.”

Arthur shifts in his seat, his gaze softening just a little. “I get it,” he says, his voice low. “Maybe I’ve been a bit… distant. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

You let out a small breath, realising this conversation may have been more productive than you initially thought. Maybe things aren’t fixed, but at least there’s a crack in the wall between you. A small crack, but a crack nonetheless.

“Okay,” you say quietly, not sure what else to add, but feeling slightly more hopeful than you did before. “Can we be friends, Arthur?”

Arthur nods, his lips quirking just the tiniest bit into a smile. “Yeah, friends.”

You walk back to your flat, your mind still turning over the conversation you just had with Arthur. You weren’t sure what exactly changed between you two. Maybe you could work together without all the tension. Maybe you could actually be friends.

When you get to the door, you step inside and kick off your shoes, the warm familiarity of your flat greeting you. Your flatmate Emma is cooking something and she looks up when you enter.

“So,” she says, sitting up and giving you a knowing look. “How’d it go with Arthur?”

You sit down next to her, exhaling a heavy sigh, trying to shake off the weight of the conversation. “It was… good. We talked. Finally.

“Finally? You mean you didn’t talk before this?”

“Not really,” you say, letting your head fall back against the couch. “It was all just about work, you know? He’s been really distant, and I was starting to think he hated me. But today… today, we talked. Actually talked.”

Emma looks interested now, sitting down next to you. “Okay, come on. What happened?”

You tell her everything, how Arthur had been cold, distant, and how you’d been confused, frustrated, and unsure of what was going on between you. Then you mention his response when you finally opened up about wanting to be friends.

“He said he thought we were already friends,” you finish with a small laugh. “Like, what?”

Emma smiles, clearly amused. “That’s… a little messed up. But hey, at least he didn’t completely shut you down.”

You nod, a little frustrated but also kind of relieved. “Yeah, I guess. But it felt like… like there’s still a lot he doesn’t get. I don’t think he even realised how weird he was making things for me. Like, I was just supposed to understand that he was ‘being professional’ or whatever, but it still felt like he didn’t like me.”

Emma frowns slightly. “That sucks. But it sounds like he’s starting to see where you’re coming from. Maybe things will be different now?”

You’re not sure how to answer, but before you can, your phone buzzes on the coffee table, lighting up with a message from Arthur.

You pick it up, your heart giving a little lurch as you unlock the screen and read:

Arthur: I didn’t realise you felt I didn’t like you. I really enjoyed talking to you today.

You blink at the message, not sure what to think at first. The words are simple enough, but there’s something in them that makes you pause. A small, almost apologetic tone to them, like he’s realising his behavior was off.

You show Emma the message, and she grins. “Well, look at that! Sounds like someone’s trying.”

You bite your lip, feeling conflicted. “I don’t know. It’s nice, but it’s still kind of… weird, you know? Like, it’s not really a big apology. It’s just him saying he didn’t realise.”

Emma shrugs, not without some sympathy. “Well, it’s a start, right? He seems like he actually likes you. He’s at least acknowledging how you feel, even if it’s awkward.”

You nod slowly, still processing the words. “Yeah, I guess. I just wish he’d be more… upfront. Or just, you know, less weird.”

Emma snorts. “Arthur’s a work in progress. I’m sure he’ll figure it out eventually.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I hope so.”

As you think over the message again, you can’t quite tell if Arthur’s being genuine or if he’s just being polite. But either way, you appreciate that he’s acknowledging the tension. Maybe things between you two will improve.

“Thanks for listening. Again,” you say, sinking back into the sofa, feeling a little lighter. “I needed to vent.”

Emma grins, nudging you playfully. “Anytime, my friend. Just make sure you keep me updated on all this Arthur drama. Sounds like there’s more to come.”

You chuckle, nodding. “Yeah. There probably is.”

And even though you still feel unsure about where you and Arthur are heading, there’s a small sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, you’re on the right path.

You stare at Arthur’s message for a moment, your fingers hovering over the screen. You want to respond, but part of you feels unsure. It’s one thing for him to acknowledge what’s been happening, but you’re still figuring out how to navigate this weird, in-between space you two find yourselves in.

You: Thanks, Arthur. It was nice talking to you too.

You hit send then set the phone down on the table. You’re already preparing for the awkwardness that could follow, or maybe the lack of a response. But almost immediately, your phone buzzes again.

Arthur: A medium iced latte with vanilla.

What a strange man, you thought. Why is he telling you your coffee order? Isaac has told you he was a bit weird and you’d noticed it yourself but you didn’t really know what to say.

You stare at the message for a moment. You start typing a reply, but this time, you take a breath before hitting send.

You: What do you mean?

Your phone buzzes almost immediately.

Arthur: Your drink order, I’ll buy you the same one next time we record.

You find yourself smiling as you put the phone down, feeling not just a little less anxious than before, but kind of excited.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Chapter four

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a/n: THERE WILL BE PROGRESS I PROMISE

for my lovely commenters:

@rubyskies @rkaya @pookietv @rougetv @arthurhillmastermind @picklepiastri @pretendyoucantseeme @neivivenaj

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi so I wanted to ask, how do I write a confident character? (Specifically one in high standing, like a prince or a king)

10 Traits for Confident Characters

1 - Confident Body Language - Confident people display good posture (standing up straight, shoulders back, chin up), strong eye contact, and body language that appears positive and secure.

2 - Listening More Than Speaking - Babbling, interrupting people, and monopolizing conversation are signs of insecurity, so confident people tend to listen more than they speak.

3 - They Don't Seek Validation From Others - Confident people know who they are, what they can do, and know their own value, so they don't seek validation from others.

4 - They Don't Overthink Things - Confident people are good at evaluating a situation and making a decision rather than fretting over the different choices.

5 - They're Not Judgmental - Passing judgment and being critical of others isn't something confident people do, because they don't need to lift themselves up by knocking others down.

6 - They Speak with Purpose - Confident people are clear about their feelings and desires. They say what they mean and mean what they say. They don't tend to hem and haw or say things like "um" or "uh" when they speak.

7 - They Accept Responsibility for Their Mistakes - Confident people don't deny responsibility or blame others for their own mistakes. They own up to what they did wrong, apologize, do what they can to rectify the situation, and vow to do better.

8 - They Take Calculated Risks - When opportunities come along, confident people aren't afraid to take them, even if there are risks. They just analyzed the pros vs the cons first to make sure the risk is worth the potential reward.

9 - They Lift Others Up - Not only do confident people not tear others down, they actively lift people up and celebrate the people around them. They are fully aware of the contributions made by others and are happy to recognize them for it.

10 - They Ask for Help When Needed - Confident people know there's no shame in asking for help when it's needed, so they are able to ask for assistance without feeling bad, guilty, or ashamed. They also see the value in learning from others who may have abilities and skills they do not.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[aggieharkness]

One week later, here is Avis Amberg aka Patti Lupone ❤️ There are things that could be improved, but I hope you all like it. Feedback is always welcome. This sort of paintings take time and I'm a sucker for details, so if anyone sees anything that could be better, I accept constructive criticism once more. Please, refrain from being a hater, doing this is a lot of work, and it would upset me so. I need to thank @sapphicwitch for being like my beta reader, you are a ray of sunshine. I hope I did justice to Patti Lupone, because I truly love her and Avis has such a choke hold on me that it's insane. 😊😊❤️

The hair is a bit more orange in person, but you all know how much cameras can hate on us. Also, this is oil colours on canvas.

[moghedien]

"But the artist said that this is about..."

In college I was a creative writing major and I do think that it was beneficial. It will not automatically make you a better writer or help you get published, but a good program will give you some tools and skills that can help you if you actually show up for them. One of the best things about a creative writing program is the workshops, which can also be the cruelest part of the program, the reason why most people drop out, and the thing that produces the most tears.

Everyone has a designated workshop day where the subject of the class will be whatever work you submitted and everyone read the day or so beforehand. The entire class period is about discussing whatever it was that you wrote and only what you wrote. You do not give any context when you submit the work; you just submit it and everyone tears it apart the next class period.

But the most important thing about these workshops is that the writer has to be present, but they cannot talk. You cannot explain yourself. You cannot argue with criticism. You cannot provide context or meaning behind what you wrote. You have to sit there and listen to what a dozen or so other people took from what you wrote and what they felt was good and bad about it.

This is a good thing. It forces you to grow a backbone and take criticism but it also really, really incentivizes you to learn how to put what you actual mean into your writing and do it well.

And this isn't just about learning how to take negative feedback, it also shows you that people can take your writing in very unexpected interpretations. Not bad interpretations, but things you definitely weren't intending when you were writing.

My intention for writing this, is to explain that the first things you learn when learning both how to take and to give criticism in an academic setting is that artist intention does not matter. What is actually presented to the audience and what they get from that is what matters. That isn't to say you have to appease the audience. If everyone is frustrated and is complaining about it and you wanted to do that, then mission accomplished. You don't have to accept all the criticism you're given, but you have to learn to distinguish what is your ego and what is actually beneficial for what you want to do with your piece.

Now, there were times when we would actually ask the writers small questions. Usually after the workshop was pretty much done and it was honestly usually when the writing was actually good and there wasn't much negative to say about it. More questions about like what it was inspired by or what was the thought behind certain choices or why things were written a certain way. It was more out of personal curiosity than it was to inform how the critique went. It was from people wanting to learn more about how this was made, not people wanting to know how to feel about it.

All this to say, I do find artists talking about their art very interesting, because I'm someone who likes art. I like to know how art is made and how artists think and what drives them. It will never or should never definitively inform how I interpret their art, however. If I take a piece a certain way and then learn that the artist actually intended something else, that might make me look at it a different way. It might make me see and accept their interpretation, even. But art is not one final sum. It is multiple things at one. My original interpretation isn't any less valid or true even if its in direct contrast to what the artist intended from it, and even if I also accept their intended interpretation. With good art, multiple contradictory things are true at once.

Anyone who thinks a piece of art can only ever be or say one thing and cannot contradict itself is not actually thinking about the art as art but as product to be consumed and disposed of.

[zoen-magic]

Dropkick (&Team Nicholas x Male Reader)

Trope: Childhood Friends to ???

Status: Request

Genre: Angst to Fluff

Main Characters: M/n, &Team Nicholas

Side Characters: &Team K, EJ, Taki, Harua, with brief mentions of BOYNEXTDOOR's Taesan and Leehan

Synopsis: M/n and Nicholas are childhood friends and were always seen together. In school, the library, on streets, practically everywhere. However, when a new student came in the picture, a lot of mishaps occurred in their friendship. Will this be the end of a longtime friendship, or the start of developing complex emotions?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hey, Enzo here! Welcome to my very first ff coming back into writing. Do keep in mind that I am still rusty when it comes to writing and still am a beginner. Likewise, I highly accept constructive feedback and criticism as return for me to be able to write stories with higher quality in the future! I hope you guys enjoy Dropkick!

______________

It was a sunny morning in a neighborhood. Children were playing basketball at a nearby court, with the trees around them dancing as the wind blew them. The flowers were also blooming its unique colors, attracting different butterflies to them.

A blue car and white truck then came by and stopped at a seemingly newly renovated house.

“Seems like someone will move in today.” said by a woman to her friends who seemingly look like they are a group of moms. “Oh yeah. They’re actually my classmates back from high school.” said by another, familiar with the newcomers.

“Oh wow! That’s nice. It’s good to have new neighbors once in a while.” said by one.

The newly arrived family then went out of their car and went inside their new home. “Wah!” said a kid, in awe of their new place. “Do you like it, M/n?” asked by the mom, with the kid nodding joyfully.

______________

Days went by, and the family finished unpacking their things. After cleaning, furnishing, and dusting off their new house, the family then finally settled in their new home. “M/n-ah! Come down here!” the father called.

Little footsteps were heard coming down, and there appeared a little boy in his black Mario Kart t-shirt and jersey shorts. “I’ve finished setting up your Nintendo Wii.” said the father happily, with the kid responding with such excitement to finally play his favorite video game.

“Wait!” yelled by the mother, with the two males in the house turning to her. M/n’s mother is just eyeing her husband who is sheepishly laughing, but is scared of his wife deep inside.

“Before you play, can you bring over these milk rice cakes to the neighbors?” the woman asked her son. M/n then turned his head back and forth with the console and the rice cakes. “Yep! I can do it!” he answered.

He then went out with a bag filled with boxes of milk rice cakes made by his mother. While he was handing this out to the whole neighborhood, he tried his best not to sneak in a bite with how fragrant the rice cakes were. “Aughhh! Chocolate rice cakes are definitely the best.” he said while smelling the aroma of the bittersweet cocoa powder with his mouth watering as a result.

Down to the last house. “Finally! I want to eat them so bad!” M/n knocked his small hand on the door, waiting for someone to answer. Excitedly waiting for someone to answer, he then knocked on the door again. “Coming!” an answer also coming from a young boy from the other side.

The door opened, revealing a young boy, who seemed like the same age as M/n, and the same height as him. “Oh, uh. Hi! Uh-uhm, he-here! Chocolate ri-rice cakes.” he said while stuttering. Why was he stuttering? He also did not know. It may be because M/n was not fond of actually socializing with others, but I guess talking with someone his age made him stutter more. “Uhm, n-no. Milk rice makes, no cakes. Rice cakes!” for sure, M/n was completely flustered.

“Oh! Thank you so much!” answered the young boy, receiving the box, and laughing at the boy's antics. M/n then started walking away, when a woman said loudly “Nicholas! Who’s that?”

“Oh, uhm, someone just gave us rice cakes.” Nicholas answered back. The woman then came to the door and saw M/n at the door. “Oohh! It’s M/n! Wow, you look just like your father!” said Nicholas's mother.

“Do you know him, Mom?” Nicholas asked. Then his mother began to tell him that she and M/n’s mother and father were her high school friends and how sappy the two were at that time, almost inseparable. “Oh, the good times. So, how are you M/n-ah? How’s your new house? Do you like it?”

However, it seemed like M/n was slightly uncomfortable, not by the question or that she knew his parents, but because he was not used to socializing. “Mom, I think he’s shy.” Nicholas pointed out, with M/n nodding as an answer for agreement.

“Oh really? Alright then, off you go M/n. It’s going to be dark later on.” Nicholas’s mom said. With M/n nodding again, he bowed to both Nicholas and his mom, then went on his journey home.

______________

“Nicholas!” screamed a young boy. “Don’t you throw that red shell!” continued.

FINISH

1st Place - Nicholas

2nd Place - M/n

“Augh!” M/n exclaimed. “Yes! I won again, haha!” Nicholas exclaimed back.

Yes, Nicholas and M/n became close right after. Going to the same schools and having a common ground on every school dismissals.

M/n likes to hangout outside their house and just read books while listening to music. When Nicholas sees him, he just pesters M/n while reading. Then, that leads to Nicholas compensating M/n with street foods. From sweet and spicy sticky rice cakes to the smoky and char-flavored skewers. Then to burn off those “healthy” delicacies, they like to play badminton together every afternoon and play video games right after. Lastly, they also help each other in terms of their academics. With M/n being fond of problem-solving and Mathematics, Nicholas leaned more towards creative thinking and arts.

One might say that they were almost inseparable. They were almost never seen not together on many occasions. At school, the neighborhood, the streets, everywhere. They were always together.

“Oh by the way, I got a schedule tomorrow.” M/n began. Nicholas became interested all of a sudden. ‘Busy? We were supposed to see the release of Final Countdown tomorrow.’ Nicholas thought.

“You know K, right? The new student this year? Well, we instantly clicked as he likes marathons. I never got someone to do them with since you were not fond of it, haha.” M/n explained. Nicholas’s happy expression suddenly turned a little bit sour, with M/n noticing it. “Hey, I’m sorry, hm? I’ll pay you twofold next time.”

“But we planned this a month ago dude.” Nicholas retorted, but in a pleasant tone still. “Yeah, I know. But K does not really have any friends within our level, since he’s just new. I’m trying to get him comfortable with us.” M/n said. Nicholas thought about it for a while, but of course, who could refuse his friend. “Alright. You can go.” Nicholas said, but in a tone like he was a little forced to.

“Yes!” M/n exclaimed. “But! The day after tomorrow, we will watch the movie, ‘kay?” with M/n nodding as an answer. However, Nicholas went home with a somewhat heavy feeling inside him. ‘What’s wrong with me? It’s just one day without him. What could happen?/ he thought.

Well, he did not thought that after M/n’s marathon with K and their scheduled movie screening, M/n and K began to hangout with each other for a while, to the point that M/n goes home later than Nicholas now, as he is busy with making K comfortable with the new environment.

“M/n, let’s go home. We have homework.” Nicholas called. “Oh, didn’t I tell you?” M/n asked curiously, with Nicholas now having a confused expression. “Told me what?”

“I’ll be going to K’s house.” M/n answered, with Nicholas now having a sour expression. “Hey, who really is your friend between us two, huh?” Nicholas said with a hint of jealousy. “Hey, don’t make this a big deal, dude. It’s just homework.” and Nicholas just left. Leaving M/n just sighing.

M/n’s phone vibrated. ‘I’m sorry, M/n. I suddenly got plans with Taki and Harua. I’ll just give you your notes tomorrow. Sorry!’ K texted. ‘Oh it’s alright! Enjoy!’ he texted back.

“Taki and Harua? Ah, the juniors. He actually had friends here all along.” M/n said to himself, and began walking home. ‘Actually, I’m suddenly craving boba tea. I’ll buy one.’ he thought, and changed direction to the streets full of street food vendors.

“Um, one taro milk tea please?” he said to the vendor and paid the amount. While waiting, he looked around the street to see if he wanted anything else. Then he saw Nicholas, laughing with a boy that is also a classmate of his. ‘Isn’t that Euijoo?’ he thought. He saw Nicholas and Euijoo laughing happily, too happy for M/n’s liking. He didn’t want to get caught, so he just turned around and looked at something else, and just sighed.

The next day after school, M/n was waiting for Nicholas. He called and called him again and again, yet his friend was not answering. “Hey, where are you? It’s getting late.” he said as a voice message.

Truth be told, he was actually ignored by Nicholas during the whole day. M/n went to school alone, had recess and lunch alone, and studied at the library alone. ‘Is he really mad at me?’ he thought.

He then caught the glimpse of Euijoo exiting school, while talking to someone. “Oh, Nicholas! ---Uh huh!---Ah, about the essay?---Yeah sure, I’ll go there.” he heard Euijoo say. To make sure, he called Euijoo. “Euijoo!” the boy turned around. “Hm?”

“Have you seen Nicholas? We were supposed to go home together.” he asked. “Ah, Nicholas? He said he went home already. We were going to go through the activity later. The essay I think?” Euijoo answered. With M/n nodding, he just smiled and thanked his classmate, and went on his way, the other way from his home.

‘I guess I am really that easy to be replaced, huh?’ he thought to himself. Seeing that K was now with Taki and Harua, and his childhood friend Nicholas was now hanging out with someone new, he felt a little lonely.

He just sighed, and drank his favorite orange-flavored soda. He suddenly stopped sipping, remembered Nicholas nagging at him at how unhealthy it is drinking a lot of soda. Now here he is, drinking five cans straight, with no solid food at all present at his table. Truthfully, he felt a little teary-eyed. ‘Why now that we are graduating?’

______________

“M/n is absent again? This is the second day.” asked the homeroom teacher. The whole class was shocked. M/n never went absent to any school days even if he was very sick. Now he was absent for two days in a row. “Nicholas, do you know what happened to M/n?” the teacher asked, with Nicholas shaking his head.

Every break he had that day, he repeatedly texted and called M/n, to know if he was alright, yet no answers were made. Nicholas was now very concerned about M/n, and now felt guilty about ignoring him. ‘How petty of me. He must be feeling very anxious now,’ he said to himself.

This went on and on until the next week, and there were only two more weeks until their finals. ‘M/n, where are you? Please answer.’ Nicholas thought while calling his friend. Every day now felt like it was too slow for Nicholas. Not because of how boring each class was, rather it was because he was now very concerned about M/n.

After class, he thought and thought again of where M/n was apart from his house, because he knows that M/n will just ignore him back. ‘The convenience store!’ he suddenly thought.

He ran towards their signature convenience store to hangout, and there he saw a boy wearing a black hoodie and gray sweatpants with white slippers, sitting while eating instant noodles and a particular orange-flavored soda.

Nicholas slowly walked towards him, and just stared at the boy. “Hey, you know those are unhealthy for you right?” and the boy jumped, scared of the deep voice behind him. The boy knew who he was. He continuously ate and slurped the noodles. “Hey.” Nicholas said again but now with a sterner tone.

“Why do you care?” M/n answered, in a broken tone. While he was mixing the noodles to get another bite, he was suddenly hugged by Nicholas. “I’m sorry.” Nicholas said, who was now emotional and getting teary. “Let go.” said M/n and shaking Nicholas off.

“Hey! I said let go!” continuously shaking himself, but Nicholas was too strong and persistent. “You wanted this, right? I’m just going to be a year later than you! So just go!” M/n said, who was now getting teary.

“What made you think of that?” Nicholas questioned back. “You know how much you mean to me.” he continued.

Now, no one was saying anything. It was just filled with tears falling and sobs echoing the alley. “Please forgive me, M/n. I know it was too petty of me to think and act that way.” Nicholas apologized again. “Hey, I am the one supposed to be apologizing, idiot.” they were now both laughing.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you were not my friend, Nicholas.” M/n apologized back, then they were now hugging each other.

This was their very first major fight amongst the years they were friends. Growing up, they were only fighting about who gets to play Princess Peach in Mario Kart (as both have a crush on her when they were younger), who gets to have the last piece of takoyaki, and what flavor of boba tea should they buy. Now, handling highly complex emotions now helped them became closer than ever.

______________

“Congratulations, graduates!” yelled their homeroom teacher. Throwing their graduation caps as high as the sky’s limit, the graduating class now are stepping onto a new chapter of their lives.

“M/n! Hurry up, we’re going to miss the screening of Deer Hunter!” Nicholas yelled. “W-Wait!” M/n answered back, receiving so many flowers and chocolates from different graduates, even from freshmen to juniors, and taking pictures with them. 

Nicholas just lets out a snicker, with M/n now in front of him. “Never beating the heartthrob allegations, huh?” Nicholas said in a joking matter. “And I do not get why YOU do not have any flowers, when you are technically more handsome than me.” M/n jokingly answered back.

They then immediately went home to change into more comfortable clothes (and for M/n to put down an unending amount of bouquets, chocolates, and letters). Going into the cinema, there was actually no one lining up for the movie they will be watching.

“Hey, how come there’s no one watching Deer Hunter? It’s making me feel annoyed.” M/n said while waiting for their popcorn, with Nicholas just staying silent the whole time.

“Uhm…” Nicholas began, with M/n turning at him to listen. “Hm?”

“Uhm, I may or may not have rented a whole cinema for ourselves to binge-watch Deer Hunter first and Go in Blind next.” Nicholas explained in a shy tone. M/n just hysterically laughs, then looks at Nicholas who had a serious expression. M/n stopped laughing, “Wait, are you actually serious?” with Nicholas sheepishly nodding.

“Hey! How much did you just spend, huh?” M/n asked. “You know how I feel about you spending a lot?” he continued. Nicholas answers, “Uhm. Now don’t get mad,” he began. “I am already mad, Nicho.” M/n fired back.

“I asked Euijoo if he could convince his parents to let us rent this for a whole day, since his family owns this whole building.” he explains, with M/n just sighing. “Alright alright, I’ll let you go for today. Say Euijoo I said thanks.” and M/n hurriedly went off. “Hey! Wait for me!” Nicholas hurriedly chased M/n.

______________

After watching the movies (with M/n’s unending nagging to Nicholas), they were now taking photos at a booth. “What’s with the sudden photo-taking? You hate this kind of stuff.” M/n said. “U-Uhm, it’s just for memories, you know. Since we haven’t had any physical photos except selfies.” Nicholas explained while stuttering.

“You know, dude, I am now noticing you are acting so weird today. Are you sick or something?” M/n askes and touched Nicholas’s forehead. All of a sudden, Nicholas’s face turned so red. “H-Hey, are you really sick?”

“N-No! Let’s just take photos. I-I’m g-getting hungry!” Nicholas retorted, and entered the booth. ‘Why is he acting so cute today?’ M/n thought. ‘What was that, Nicholas? It’s just M/n!’ Nicholas thought.

Now taking photos, they were deciding on what poses to do. “Oh, I saw Taesan and Leehan do this one time, with their cheeks touching each other and smiling.” M/n suggested. “Oh, I saw them doing heart poses as well!” he continued. And Nicholas was just red the entire time.

______________

They then finished dinner at their favorite Chinese restaurant, and was now heading towards a river near the mall. “Ugh! The fried rice was superb this time!” M/n exclaimed. Waiting for Nicholas to say something, he saw him just staring blankly at his shoes.

“Hey, Nicho! You’re too silent today man. Is there anything wrong?” he asked, with Nicholas shaking his head as an answer. “O-Oh it’s nothing! I’m just too full, that’s all.” he answered.

When they arrived at the riverside of the park, they were now mesmerizing the view. The weather was also perfect. With the full moon shining brightly, the glimmering stars alongside it, it was definitely the best hangout so far for these two childhood friends.

With M/n letting out a sigh of satisfaction, “Today was the best!” he exclaimed, with Nicholas laughing beside him. “I agree.” then staring off again to the stars.

Then it got really sentimental, “You know, I still feel guilty up ‘til today about what I did.” M/n started, with Nicholas intently listening. “But you know, I think that just made us closer than it was.” he continued, and looked at Nicholas and smiled.”Thank you, for being a part of almost half of my life, Nicholas!” he ended.

Nicholas just smiled back, and immediately was feeling nervous. ‘Should I do it?’ he thought. “Do what?” M/n asked jokingly. Nicholas was shocked, he just unconsciously blurted out his thoughts. “M/n, I know you may be shocked by this but…” Nicholas started.

“You were probably the best thing that has ever happened and came into my life. They said friendships like these never last, but we broke through it. Our fight, though it made me feel like I was the guiltiest friend alive, I think that just made our bond stronger, and we got to know each other much better.” Nicholas started.

‘Wait, what is he doing?’ M/n asked himself in his mind. ‘N-No way.’

“I then get to find out that without you, I feel like I’m nothing. It’s like I always yearn for your presence, and always want to be with you. You are one unique friend I ever had, and will always be. I realized how important you are to me. I also realized this…” Nicholas continued.

‘No way.’ M/n thought.

“I will never leave you standing by yourself, the school’s heartthrob, my academic friend, my childhood friend,”

‘That’s a line from the first movie we watched together, Dropkick.’ M/n thought in his head.

“I like you, M/n.”

Masterlist

[trendywaifus]

Okay, but what about female reader accidental pregnancy by Ruan Mei? How would she react and deal with it? That's always been a thought in my head dunno why

That’s interesting! I feel like ruan mei would be a bit taken back because she’s very well educated about the in’s and out’s of pregnancy. ruan mei made sure she was extremely careful about not getting you pregnant and it seemed like her efforts failed.

the real question is, will ruan mei accept it? yes! this is an opportunity to study and nurture human life from a baby to an adult which is something she has really never done before. although, she’s at a loss when it comes to loving it because she herself struggles with her emotions and expressing them. ruan mei knows that humans thrive and grow from love and support and yet, she can’t really give that to the child. whichhh is whyyy you’re here to help her! like always, you teach ruan mei how to hold a baby, how to tell him/her that you love him/her —how to connect with him/her. when the baby gives ruan mei a smile full of nothing but gums, she finds herself smiling back with unexpected warmth in her stiff heart.

little by little, ruan mei becomes more knowing and less ignorant towards emotions like love, anger, and sadness. she’s gaining a better grasp of humanity through her child and learns about positive and negative feedback. if her baby is happy, she’s happy. how do you make a baby happy? by playing with them, buying them toys and games to help develop important skills like problem solving and critical thinking. when the baby first cried, she was at a lost and didn’t know what to do. that’s until you picked the crying baby up in your arms, gently rocked them, and cooed. ruan mei closely observes how the baby slowly stopped crying over time and became content from your gentle comfort. the first two times the baby cried, albeit awkward, she copied the exact gesture you did and she couldn’t quite get it. so she started simply humming a tune she often plays with her ruan. and just like that, the baby calms over time and appears nearly asleep. ruan mei concludes that the baby simmers down according to the specific parent’s style of comfort. the problem was that she tried to comfort the baby your way and it didn’t recognize her as you so it continued to cry. when ruan mei began to do it her own way through humming, the infant eventually adapts and recognizes her.

ruan mei would def do operant conditioning to learn more about the child’s behavior. i feel like she’d only reach out to the genius society members she’s in contact with for tips ( which is funny cus just like her, most of the genius society members are socially awkward ) at least screwllum tries to help. herta. .☠️

lol, the baby called ruan mei their mama for the first time which was also their first word. let me tell you, ruan mei felt the happiest she’s ever been. she got so overwhelmed by the pure feeling, she cried for the first time. a tear rolling down her face as she stared down at the giggling baby in shock! such a heart warming sight to be witnessed by you!!

all in all, ruan mei reconnects with her humanity more through her child and grows wit them! i think in this case ruan mei would be the child and the baby would be her teacher without even knowing it 😭 just know the child is gonna be a momma’s boy

sorry I rambled so much! this psychological study is sponsoreddddd byyyyyyyy. @crguang !!!