#Little Palace HR

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

Summary:

Inspired by Imperial Human Resources. Inkbug's "Reply all" And Caspian’s hair in Dawn Treader ,,, RIP hair. Dear Marie. No you cannot get a transfer to Narnia! So what if Baghra doesn’t like you? Unless we have a hand written apology from King Caspian for nicking Amplifier’s, Veela and Bereginya with an additional signed portrait included of King Caspian and a signature of approval from General Kirigan we cannot approve a transfer to Narnia.”

Inspired by reply all by inkbug.

Rated M to R for reasons. Written in Australian and British spelling and grammar. Now …. Follow!

[personinthepalace]

[SPOILERS] My Lady Jane - My Little Pony Theme Song

a silly little edit - hope you enjoy it :)

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

She wasn't allowed to contact a therapist or a mental health specialist but she got her personal photographer walking all over Buckingham Palace in QEll's private quarters and QEll's childhood dollhouse to snap pictures, make a whole mockumentary in South Africa behind The Palace's back, do "work lunch" with staffs outside, visit an apothecary after closing hours and all the other obvious things which in no way showed that she was restricted in the BRF?

But she couldn’t contact a therapist. She had to contact HR. Only HR is allowed to solve mental health concerns. /s

Anyway. That HR reference was so random, wasn’t it? Here’s my theory: It was a spin attempt to cover up Meghan getting a HR call about her behavior towards the staff re the bullying allegations.

Here’s a very abbreviated timeline:

October 31, 2018: Jason Knauf writes a letter describing Meghan’s bullying of/behavior towards staff is sent to Buckingham Palace HR. William begins discussion to split the households.

January 16, 2019: Meghan has thoughts of self-harm because of bullying.

March 14, 2019: BP announces the household split. The Sussexes are moving their offices and staff to BP. (The Cambridges, their staff, and their offices to remain at KP.) It sounds like the KP staff - who up to this point were shared between the Cambridges and the Sussexes - could choose if they stayed with the Cambridges or moved with the Sussexes.

Now, two and a half months for HR to follow up on a complaint is a bit long to me, but when you consider that any HR worth their mettle would look into a complaint to determine if it’s legit before escalating it and when you consider how much “kickbacks” KP, CH, and BP were doing in those days (KP sends something up to BP, they kick it to CH, who sends it back to KP, who gets frustrated and sends it back to CH, so on), it does seem a little plausible.

So my theory is that Meghan was contacted in January by HR about the bullying allegations (which she obviously didn’t like and found very offensive) and the remediation step was to separate her from the complainants, so the decision to split the household was finalized. The KP staff was invited to choose if they’d stay or go and once everyone made their decisions and new spaces were found for the Sussexes, the official BP announcement was made.

But that still left the pesky HR phone call on the record about Meghan and bullying. And since the Sussexes were both paranoid about the media invading their privacy with the palace’s support, Meghan needed a way to spin an angry HR call that makes her the aggrieved victim. Since the palace wouldn’t contradict her (“never complain, never explain”), she twisted the story for Oprah and then her glass house began falling to pieces.

[makethatelevenrings]

Somewhere Only We Know - ONE

Chapter Warnings: goodbye earl (pet death), spoilers for 2x01 kinda??, this is a bit rushed bc it’s exposition but we get into the fun stuff next chapter

Masterlist

“Oh fucking hell.”

You hadn’t expected the first game of your new job to end like this but here you were creating Canva tribute posts for a deceased dog. Keeley directed you to make sure that you were focusing on solely sympathetic posts and honoring Earl. You had the press conference pulled up on one of your monitors to ensure you were catching what was being said along with the social media feeds.

And of course Ted Lasso did an excellent job honoring Earl. That man made your life easier.

A knock sounded on your office door and you raised your head to find Keeley peeking into your office. “You survived your first day! Better than Earl, I’d say.”

You choked back a laugh and motioned her to come in. “Christ, Keels, poor things not even buried yet.”

“Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to come see how you were getting on. Rebecca looked at the Insta with me and I have to say, your graphics are a hoot. Are you up for a task to do sometime this week?”

“Yeah, of course. It is my job, after all.”

She grinned. “Right, right. Well, Rebecca bought Barkingham Palace in honor of Earl and I would love it if you could go get some photos and videos with the dogs. They have some named after the players too! We have some little dog jerseys you can bring with you.”

“I can do that. Anything in particular you want to see?”

She bounced up onto her feet and shook her head. “Nope! Make it cute, make it fun. I know you’ll do a great job. You’re doing fabulous, babes.”

Raising your coffee mug in salute, you returned back to your work as she fled your tiny office in a wash of pink and glitter. Considering the tasks she could have given you, hanging out with a bunch of dogs wasn’t bad.

Three days later, you found yourself at Barkingham Palace with a golden retriever demanding pets and a staffie jumping up in an attempt to lick your face. You laughed in delight as dogs scrambled around you. You had successfully slid little Richmond jerseys over a few of the dogs heads and now a tiny Pomeranian was proudly sporting a Rojas jersey. A Border Collie wore a visor and whistle and you snapped a picture. You sent that one to Coach Lasso and received a GIF of a dog laughing in response.

Two Spaniels with McAdoo and Zoreaux jerseys made a great video with the way they tumbled over each other. One of the media guys you had recruited for help with capturing photos got a few shots of you being tackled by a Labrador wearing a Bumbercatch jersey.

The dogs were so cute that you even put your information down to volunteer in the future when you and Mikey, the photographer, packed up for the day. There was one little dachshund that kept following you around but there was no way you could get a dog, especially when your new job required you to travel frequently. Volunteering would help get in some well deserved snuggles.

By the time you got home, a few texts were waiting for you. Keeley asked for a few picture previews so you fired off some of the photos you had taken on your phone. One was from Higgins reminding you to swing by HR on Monday to finalize your travel waivers. Two were from unknown numbers who identified themselves as Sam Obisanya and Colin Hughes. They both sent friendly texts welcoming you to the team and you made a mental note to figure out what their favorite dessert was so you could make it for their birthdays. You sent a thank you text to both of them and sent them each a photo with a dog in their jersey.

Stripping off your fur covered clothes, your first priority was to take a shower before curling up on the couch and editing these photos for your post tomorrow. The TV played in some low drone in the background, some kind of stupid reality dating show where hot people dated and fucked like rabbits. It was mind numbing and didn’t require thought and you liked having something playing in the background as you worked.

You had a few videos already on the Instagram story from today and you went to check the engagement. Swiping your finger along the screen, you were relieved to see thousands of views and shares. People loved puppies and they loved football. If you combined the two, it was gold. One of the videos of you getting tackled by some of the loveable dogs made it in and people were loving it. Rebecca even texted you with a, “LOVE! So cute!!” so you were feeling great about your work.

Verified accounts were bumped to the top and you recognized a few of the players names. Zoreaux, Jan Maas, and a few others had viewed the stories, along with a name you didn’t recognize. Jamie Tartt. Was he the guy from that one underwear model? Or was he the Givenchy ad? You looked up at your television screen. Oh, never mind. He was the reality TV show manwhore.

Exiting Richmond's account, you changed your Instagram over to yours. There was far less engagement, but your simple baking account didn’t appeal to as many people as a football league. You loved designing different desserts, trying out recipes, and balancing out flavor combinations. Combined with your love for photography and design, you had a pretty prolific home baking account. It was the account you showed Keeley as your portfolio and now she and Rebecca both followed you. Oddly enough, Higgins did too.

Your face was rarely in the photos because you ran a one-woman show, but occasionally a friend would snap a great candid. Most of your pictures were treats, flowers, cool spots around London, or whatever you found cool. You liked showing your personality through photos and you didn’t care if your face wasn’t in there. The memories were present and that’s what mattered.

A few new followers had joined the fray and you were surprised to see some of the Richmond players among them. It wasn’t like you hid the account, but it wasn’t something you advertised as your name. Keeley must have told them.

But then there was that name again. Jamie Tartt. Why would some footballer turned reality star care about your panna cotta fails and award-winning lemon bars? Why would a guy who isn’t even playing for Richmond want to follow you, the social media manager?

Fuck it. It was too late to question the motives of some stranger. He was just another follower. Another number for engagement profiles. Maybe he was just interested in your slutty brownie recipe. Whatever, you needed to sleep so you could get to the stadium tomorrow and get these photos out.

Tag list: @shiptheship​

[ecargmura]

The Apothecary Diaries Episode 3 Review - Ghost Stories

What the heck? Who told me that an episode that revolves around ghost stories would be this good? No one told me this episode would be so emotional and beautiful? I’m shedding tears of joy at the ending of this episode. It was so beautiful. I’m glad Lady Fuyou got a happy ending.

I assumed the episode would be about Maomao making medicine for the episodic issues, but no medicine was created this time around—only speculation and assumptions were at play. I did like how they don’t try to make Maomao create medicines for every issue or so. Some issues like sleepwalking don’t need a remedy and is more of a psychological issue than a physical one. I liked how Maomao suggested that her room be heavily guarded once she recalled several cases of somnambulism back when she was at her hometown. This was when Maomao realized that Fuyou had been faking her symptom the entire time—for the past two years.

There’s also a bit of world-building with how the palace and concubines work. Apparently, there are a lot of concubines and some of them are princesses or daughters of high status families from other countries. It now makes sense why Gyokuyou has a Japanese name while everyone else in the castle has a Chinese name—Gyokyou is from a foreign land. Why didn’t I catch this sooner? The star character of this episode Fuyou is also from a vassal state, hence a woman from a foreign land. For the concubine system, there are different ranks. If one is the emperor’s favorite, then she is a High Consort. Some concubines that the emperor do not touch are either mid or low ranking concubines. High status concubines stay in the palace but anyone under can be given away to another of high status. That’s how Fuyou’s situation was. She flubbed at a dance performance, but it was all a ploy for the emperor to lose interest in her as she waited for her childhood sweetheart to come find her. It’s a rather complicated system as the power of women in the palace reminds me of a corporate office.

Though, my only gripe was that Fuyou was more of the driving force for the episode and not an actual character that Maomao interacted with. I’d like to learn a little more about her before she got her happy ending, but as long as she’s happy, that’s alright.

While most of the other characters took a back seat, I still liked how they were handled in this episode. Jinshi is still the guy HR would hate for his lack of personal space, but he most likely means well as he also probably knew about Fuyou’s situation. I also like how Maomao keeps thinking Jinshi is a male concubine or something. Gaoshun is a cool guy. He asks Maomao to not glare at Jinshi for his master as a degradation kink. Gyokuyou was envious of Fuyou’s happy ending and that makes me wonder if she has someone she loved back home but cannot be with?

I think out of the three episodes, I liked this one the best. However, once I dive into the other episodes, that opinion might change. I still like the episodic format of these stories/cases. What are your thoughts on this episode?

[loz-untold-myths]

The Echoes of Hyrule

Another little AU concept that is more than likely the product of caffeine keeping me up at night until my thoughts consume me.

He is the sky of calmness before the storm, and she was his sunset.

Time Elapsed: 2 hrs, 8 minutes

Program: Ibis Paint X

General Background:

The Echoes of Hyrule follows an incarnation of Link born into a world where Hyrule no longer exists in the way it was.

Centuries ago, the last Hero of the land was slain, and with such the final heir to the throne was forced to take up his sword and seal away all of the evil spirits of the kingdom with herself. However, bringing the cycle of battle to an abrupt halt led to the decline of Hyrule rather than its prosperity. Some technology advanced for the better, but among these changes were also civil conflicts and the fading of the old Kingdom of Hyrule.

In the present, the reincarnated form of the final hero is born. After taking on the life of a traveler from his isolated home on a plateau with his parents and little sister, he enters the ruins of the old palace. While within these ruins, though, he unintentionally sets a terrible fate upon the lost land in motion. He finds that he has freed the ancient princess, but at the cost of releasing the evil spirits she locked away for so long.

The princess, meanwhile, must adjust to the new world she was woken up in. When the Link she knew had fallen, he had told her that he hoped his love for her would allow them to meet again in another life. What she never anticipated is that she would still be in the same one. Now finding herself having to guide someone exactly like that Link, yet one that has lived a completely different life... It is an added burden upon the duties she already was forced to carry.

With both living in the shadows of a time long forgotten, the new hero and ancient princess must find a balance between past and present if they intend to secure the world's future.

Reblogging is fine, but please don't post this anywhere else without linking the original post. Thanks!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hiya:)

i'm feeling kinda sick - just a common cold it's really nothing but annoying af. got any recs on common cold (pure fluff) fics? i tried to find sth in your tumblr but i kinda got lost... 😅

*bakes you some christmas cookies*

Hi Lovely *HUGS*

I'm so sorry you're feeling like shite <3

I have a few that deal specifically with being sick! I hope you enjoy these, and please, if anyone has others, please do add them! 

COLDS, FEVERS, and FLUS

See also:

Doctor / Caretaker John

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 2

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 3

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 4

Sherlock is Sick/Hurt (Sherlock Whump)

Sherlock Whump Pt. 2

John Whump / Sherlock Takes Care of John

John Whump / Sherlock Takes Care of John Pt. 2

John Whump / Sherlock Takes Care of John Pt. 3

John Whump with Guilty Sherlock

John at the Surgery

Quarantine / Lockdown / Pandemic (MFL’s)

COVID-19 Fic Recs (SWISS MISS List)

COLDS, FEVERS, and FLUS

You Lead, I Lead, You Follow, I Follow by BrighteyedJill (M, 862 w., 1 Ch. || Fever, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump) – John wakes up after a chase gone wrong to find Sherlock watching over him, but he’s a little hazy on the details.

Usefulness of Having Friends by ObservationofTrifles (K, 1,052 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship)  – Sherlock is sick and John is bringing him to the doctor's. On the way there in the tram, John decides to play a deduction game to cheer Sherlock up.

Sleep Tonight by Jenn1984 (T, 1,220 w, 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Bed Sharing, Worried Sherlock, Sick John, Hugs/Cuddles, Touch Neediness) – Fingers begin prying open his jacket looking for a wound and John would really like to swat at them. No, he's not hit anywhere, he's just damn sick.- John Watson has a fever.

Bringing Colour to the World by SD_Ryan (G, 1,168 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, Sick Fic, Fluff, Schmoop) – In which we encounter a sick detective, a snuggle on the couch, and a silly fairytale.

I'm Sorry by bewdifuldragon (K, 1,172 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Sick John) – During a case - that just for the record, he never wanted to take on anyway - John falls ill; and a guilt-ridden Sherlock does everything he can to make amends.

Giveaway Fic #9 - Angsty Sick Fic/Sherlock is Sick by ConsultingPurplePants (T, 1,734 w., 1 Ch. || Sick Fic, Hypothermia) – The next time he awakens is even more chaotic. Two doctors are shouting at each other in the corner, and John is holding his hand so tightly Sherlock is worried he’ll break it. Part 9 of 1000 Tumblr Followers Giveaway Fics

The Adventure of the Mysterious Appearance of Tissues by Gwen's Blue Box (K+, 1,910 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Humour, Sick John, Caring Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort) – In which there is a case, John has caught a cold and is not interested in investigating, Mrs Hudson is away and Sherlock does the shopping.

Q 1 HR by StillWaters1 (K+, 2,234 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Sick John, Fluff, New Year’s Eve) – On New Year's Eve, Sherlock discovers that sometimes it's the seemingly innocuous, rather than life-threatening, conditions that can keep John from The Work. And John is reminded just how deeply their friendship runs.

Entanglement by orphan_account (G, 3,218 w., 1 Ch. || Confessions, Physics, Metaphors, Texting, Pining, Christmas, Mind Palace, Sick Fic, Fluff, Humour, Praise Kink) - On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots.

Water Is Another Matter by cathedral_carver (T, 3,903 w., 1 Ch. || Sick Fic, Pining, First Kiss, Heat Wave, Skinny Dipping) – He thinks it’s in trouble, his poor heart.

Five Times John Cooked Something with Peas and One First Kiss by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (T, 3,915 w., 1 Ch. || 5 and Ones, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Cooking / Food, Sick Sherlock, Music, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss) – After John cooks five dinners that slowly reveal their hunger for each other, Sherlock and John finally share a first kiss.

I'll Take Care of You by Lastew (T, 4,123 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick John) – Sherlock doesn't always communicate well and sometimes that leads to problems. What happens if John suffers because of it?

Between Asleep and Awake by katydidit (K, 4,309 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Sick Fic, Post-TRF / Reunion) – John is sick. Incredibly, extremely, dangerously sick. Plagued by a high fever, he begins to hallucinate, start seeing things that aren't really there. Because they can't be there. Can they?

Cephalalgia by the_beekeeper_of_sussex (E, 4,979 w., 3 Ch. || First Kiss / Time, Sick Fic, Porn With Feelings, Love Declarations, Frottage, Friends to Lovers) – John is in pain and it's up to Sherlock to set him to rights by any means possible.

The Dying Detective Remix by SailorChibi (K, 6,563 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship & Family) – No one hates admitting illness or wounds more than Sherlock... perhaps that's why no one believes him when he actually gets sick. Fortunately, when he can't do it himself any longer, John and Lestrade are there to pick up the slack. Features Paternal!Lestrade and Gen John and Sherlock. One-shot.

On Favors and Keeping Score by Ewebie (G, 7,622 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Fluff, John Whump) – John woke up to the horribly unpleasant sound of his clock alarm. Which meant he’d slept through his phone’s alarm. And for a moment he glared blearily at the noisemaker before smacking at it with his palm. Ugh, he felt like rubbish. The back of his throat was burning with the irritation that heralded a proper dose, his nose was threatening to drip every few seconds, and he had the uncomfortable flush that normally suggested a fever. Nothing high, just uncomfortable. Nothing deadly, just irritating. Nothing worth calling in sick with, just a full day of discomfort in the face of other people’s discomfort. It was going to be a day where he was forced to bite his tongue from telling people off. “You’re not as sick as I am, so off you pop.” Part 7 of Tumblr Shorts

You're a Doctor, Fix me by edken (K+, 8,792 w., 2 Ch. || Humour, Romance, Sick Sherlock) – Sherlock doesn't do anything halfway, and that includes getting sick. John nurses a very sick flatmate back to health using cuddles, forehead kisses, and a massage. Humor, and fluff promised as always, but also some character analysis because who doesn't love that?

Incapacitation by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 9,424 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Sick Sherlock, Doctor John, Appendicitis) – The doctor had just asked how bad the pain was when the pain spiked. Sherlock's initial response was a gasp that evolved into a whimper. "Ten," he gasped. "Ten..."

The Dying Doctor by Transcendental Starlight (T, 11,258 w., 3 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Sick John / John Whump, ACD Rewrite) – Loosely based off ACD's "The Dying Detective." Sherlock relives a case that should have killed him, but instead resulted in John being hospitalized for a deadly disease. Sherlock endeavors to catch the murderer, while attempting to envision a future without John Watson. No Slash.

Equilibrium by augustbird (M, 12,351 w., 1 Ch. || Flowers for Algernon Fusion || Jealous then Worried Sherlock, Sick John) – At Baskerville, John is infected by a virus that turns him into a genius. But when the infection progresses into neurodegeneration, it's a race against time to save himself.

Obsession by storylover18 (K+, 15,213 w., 10 Ch. || Hurt / Comfort, Case Fic, Friendship) - Dr. John Watson wakes up ill one morning but it is not the 24 hour flu he thinks it was. Soon he lands in hospital, quickly deteriorating and Sherlock must work to find out what has happened to his blogger before it is too late. Case!fic mixed with sick!fic / No slash.

Partners in Crime by Richefic (T, 16,560 w., 5 Ch. || Post-ASIP/Pre-TBB, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Sick John, Meddling Mycroft, Caring Sherlock, Domestics) – John Watson receives some devastating news which puts a spanner in his medical ambitions. Will Sherlock prove capable of the kind of comfort and reassurance he needs or will their partnership be ended before its even begun? 

I Will Take Care Of You by SailorChibi (T, 16,664 w., 15 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Sherlock, BAMF John, BAMF Lestrade, Reunion Fic) – Two years after Sherlock's death, John comes to find him on the sofa. Wounded and ill, Sherlock is convinced he's hallucinating and refuses to share any details about Moran or the fact that Mycroft has been compromised. That doesn't stop John from stepping up and taking care of the last of Moriarty's web, BAMF-style.

Checkmate to a Castled King by LaSuen (T, 18,290 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt / Comfort, Sick Sherlock, Reverse Reichenbach) - John dies. Or at least everyone thinks he does.

The Kissing Disease by cottonballz_of_death (E, 30,856 w., 15 Ch. || Sick Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Case Fic, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Jealous Sherlock, Body Image Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, POV Sherlock, Oral / Anal, Thong, Frottage) – John brings home a boyfriend, shocking Sherlock, who long ago gave up hope that his straight flatmate would ever take a romantic interest in him. In a bid to reconnect with John, he tries to infect himself with a "harmless" virus. Neither of them is prepared for the emotional fallout that results.

You Have Drawn Red From My Hands by J_Baillier (T, 67,085 w., 17 Ch. || Three Garridebs, Heavy John Whump, Hurt / Comfort, Pining, Heavy Angst, Case Fic/Adventure, Slow Burn, Sick Fic, Injury, Guilt & Depression, Just Talk Already Please, Medical Realism, PTSD) –  John getting injured leads Sherlock on a path of guilt and revelations.

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

To Light Another's Path by BeautifulFiction (E, 128,654 w., 19 Ch. || Post-TGG, Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction / Recreational Drug Use, First Time / Kiss, Case Fic) – Teaching John to observe seems to be a losing battle, but when Sherlock falls ill and submits himself to John's care, will he realise that there is more to life than the science of deduction? Meanwhile, there is a murder to solve, and John must try and convince Sherlock not to sacrifice his own health for the sake of the case.

[biffhofosho]

Prisoner to Temptation | Chapter Seven

Word Count: 9.2k

A/N: First off, it’s actually crazy to me how vocal you cool kids are about this story considering how small my little third-person POV readership bubble is. Like, I think I’m in love with you people.

Second of all, since you’re so vocal, I hear tell that a few of you would like to file some grievances with your local HR rep regarding my babygirl’s gatekeeping of herself when it comes to her husband lmao. Let’s see what our darling prince might do this chapter to pry open those gates, hm? ;)

Cvr | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12

After their second night together, Naran had found things much more troubling for her than the first. It wasn’t just that everything in her bed smelled like Hyungwon now. It wasn’t just that, after one overnight, her body had already started keeping to one side of the bed. Most damningly, she had laid awake far too long dwelling on the way her body had almost compelled her to kiss him. She tried to forgive herself, to rationalize it away as human nature, but no matter what reason she settled on, it wasn’t good enough. She had made a promise to herself that her future would not be ruled by the passing fancies of men, and when Narangerel of Moghulikhan made a choice, she was resolute. She would not invite him into her bed so carelessly so soon.

But by the same token, she had also made a promise to her sister to include the girl’s new brother-in-law in their daily activities, and Naran was also a woman of her word. Over the next week that passed, she found small ways to appease Saran while safeguarding her peace of mind.

When the sisters went to the library, the prince tagged along. Luckily, once they were there, it was a solitary experience, which made it easy for Naran while Saran and her new brother reviewed books together.

Another day, Saran had wanted to paint in the gardens, so Naran had suggested the prince come along to be her sister’s subject. Unfortunately, that backfired since Naran was a dreadful painter, and her sister had ended up begging the crown princess to pose with the crown prince. Sharing a bench for hours with her husband under a shady maple hadn’t exactly been in her plans, especially when their sides had to be pressed together.

At least during the next day, when they had all taken tea together, Naran had finagled it so her sister sat between them, and the crown princess had gotten some much needed distance, save from his big-eyed, gentle-browed looks over his tea cup.

The most challenging day had seen Hyungwon teaching the sisters how to fish in one of the ponds. Fishing wasn’t much of a skill set for the ladies of the steppe, so it had required hands-on instruction, which the prince had been more than agreeable to offer, but the difference in his instruction between the two sisters was marked. Saran had received a side-by-side cast and reel tutorial; Naran, he informed, was a hopeless case, and the prince had taken to wrapping his wife in his arms and carefully positioning her hands and body for “the perfect cast.” She might have caught her first fish that way, but it had come at the high cost of a lingering kiss to her cheek after her success.

Thankfully, the next day saw the whole party of royal ladies on an excursion to an apple festival in town since the silk festival they had initially planned on was further away, and Queen Jigme was not keen on a full day’s ride. Though Naran had been looking for an excuse to get as far away from the palace as possible, the apple festival had turned out to be lovelier than she had dreamed. She had only had apples once in Urga, and they had been far too soft and mealy for her taste, but these were firm and honeyed and all together divine in ways she’d never dreamed.

“Your Royal Highness, please, I beg you take one home for your husband,” beseeched a peddler as she crammed a particularly shiny apple into the princess’s basket.

Now, the apple felt like an anvil in Naran’s hands on the ride home. She considered eating it herself—Hyungwon would never be the wiser—but the farmer had been so proud and so insistent, and the crown princess knew she had to honor her subject’s offering. In the end, she wished she hadn’t. The way her husband’s eyes lit up as he received his first gift from his wife made Naran sway the same way she had when she’d tasted fermented apple cider that morning.

The problem with lively days was how quickly the nights came. That first evening, Hyungwon had cornered the princess in an ill-lit hallway and asked with hopeful eyes if she would visit his chambers later. It had taken all of her strength to say no.

The intensity of their last encounter had frightened Naran. Though there had never been any hope of escaping how attractive she found the man, she thought at least that she might have some measure of control over that attraction, but it had become abundantly clear that, despite her rational mind, her body craved him. She figured if she limited his trespasses into her bed—or hers into his—in time, her mind could overcome her body. Obligations could stay obligations. They could be independent partners and friends—who sometimes had to sleep together for the sake of a nation.

Of course, the more she thought of it, the less reasonable it sounded. After their first night of cataclysmic experiences, Naran realized how quickly she’d become addicted to the pleasure Hyungwon had offered her. Without him, her bed felt too big and her sheets felt too cold, even after they’d been warmed by the servants.

A few more nights like that should have been easier. They weren’t. The knowledge that her husband’s door was a mere sprint across the parlor loomed large in her overactive imagination. Which was why after only an hour into her second night alone, she had retreated to Saran’s room and stayed there the rest of the week. That way, it was easy enough to turn down the prince’s offers for the time being.

Meanwhile, as if to spite her meticulous planning, the rest of their families got along surprisingly easily considering a few months ago, their countries were on the brink of unspoken war. The emperor and the khan, in particular, seemed to have formed some kind of a bond. Most nights, they retired to the emperor’s office to drink and joke so raucously that their laughter reverberated down the halls.

The empress and queen were not as free with one another, to the point that Naran thought they were simply trying to out-noble one another. By the end of the week, in Naran’s opinion, they were neck-and-neck in propriety, modesty, and poise, though Empress Indeok held the edge in sophisticated passive aggression and Queen Jigme surpassed in subtle coercion. Truly, they were a well-matched pair, and, indeed, after the apple festival, the sisters caught the mothers stolen away in a bath closet where they no doubt never expected to be found, giggling and sipping fermented cider straight from the bottle.

Which was why the next day came like a dust storm across the steppe—brutally and unpredictably.

Queen Jigme stood in the parlor before the princess, who thought she’d carved out a moment of peace for herself as Saran and Hyungwon had gone to the kitchen for a snack.

“I have come to tell you we intend to return to Urga tomorrow.”

Air fled the room, leaving an inescapable vacuum.

Naran gaped at her mother. “What? So soon? I thought everyone was getting along? You planned to stay at least two more weeks!”

She had to have heard the queen wrong. They were having fun together. There was no reason to leave!

“Yes, but your father’s health dictates it,” added Jigme, “and you know how the weather can be crossing the steppe this close to October. Every day we delay, we risk a snowstorm, and with your father—”

“Mother, don’t lie to me. October is weeks and weeks away, and you yourself said you had never seen Father in finer spirits.”

The queen stood a little taller now, and it was clear she’d shed her act. “You’re as shrewd as your accursed mother, my obstinate sun. Since we linger here, you are spending every waking moment with the people who have seen you every day for two decades yet hardly a whit of time with your new husband.”

“I'd rather spend it with you since our time is finite,” Naran protested bitterly.

“I will not have a princess of Moghulikan dishonor the country that took her in. Be a newlywed, dearest. Have a picnic. Host a party. Go horseback riding. I have heard your Prince Hyungwon looks very handsome on a horse.”

“Mother!”

“I dare say he will look handsome anywhere, especially in the evenings. I am sure candlelight frames his face well.”

“Are you trying to get me to push you out the door because it’s working?”

“Narangerel, let me speak plainly. I know you have spent every night this week in your sister’s room instead of your own.”

The princess scuffed the toe of her shoe along the floor as she shrugged. “What of it? I knew you’d be leaving soon. Why shouldn’t I?”

Jigme was unamused. “Are you or are you not the Princess Supreme of Goryeo?”

Naran rolled her eyes. “Oh, Mother…”

“My love, you will make such beautiful heirs! I can hardly wait to receive the news of my grandchildren.”

“Okay, there it is,” Naran shouted, pushing her mother toward the door. “Yes, please go! Travel safely and wait a long time to come back.”

Jigme laughed and, suddenly, so did Naran, and then just as suddenly, they were both weeping into each other’s arms.

“How I will miss arguing with you,” said the queen into her daughter’s hair.

“I’ll make sure to pick a fight with you in all my letters.”

“And I’ll be sure to scold you back.”

They laughed again through tears and hugged all the tighter. Maybe if Naran never let go, they couldn’t leave her after all.

“If you see an eagle in the sky, be sure to tell Altantsetseg I love her,” begged the princess.

“I will.”

“And give my favorite horse to someone who will ride her often and far. Not Khunbish in the stables. He’s a terrible rider and swears at the horses. You should really turn him out.”

The queen chuckled in agreement as she nodded. “Done, my sun.”

“And please write me often,” Naran said, though the words were getting gummier through her increasingly stuffy nose, “so I don’t forget how to read Moghul.”

“You will not forget who you are, dearest. Of that, I am most certain. You are the best of us.”

“I love you, Mother.”

The queen held her daughter’s face with her hands along with her gaze. Slowly, a smile lit up the corners of Jigme’s strong features. “I love you, too.”

Naran pulled back, wiped her eyes, and tried to stand as tall as her mother had always coached her to. With a bow for her goodnight, the princess turned begrudgingly back to her quarters before her mother’s voice caught her.

“Where are you going?” asked the queen.

“To my room, as you said?”

Jigme smirked. “Your sister’s quarters are the other way. I told her moments before coming here, so she will need you one last night. Come.”

Her mother stretched out her hand, and Naran took it. As they walked back to the guest wing, the princess wondered if this would be the last time she would ever hold her mother’s hand, and she squeezed just a little tighter for just a little longer.

It was a dark day. It wasn’t just that the Moghul royal caravan had been packed and readied, the horses champing at their bits before the gates, but the clouds were thick and heavy as they jostled over Namgyeong. The threat of rain was ever-present, but just as Naran held back her tears watching her family pack into their carriage, so, too, did the clouds hold back theirs. It was only a matter of time before the deluge.

With the khan and the queen already loaded in the carriage, Saran followed, but with only one foot in the cabin, she let out a wail and leapt back out, charging over to her sister.

“This is a mistake!” the young princess shouted. “We can’t leave you here! You belong in Moghulikhan!”

“Saran!” both the queen and the crown princess said in unison.

“Get back in this carriage this instant,” admonished their mother as she eyed the emperor and empress, who were waiting to bid their guests farewell. “You’re making a scene.”

Saran didn’t care as she buried her face in her sister’s hanbok. “I could never bear a move this far from home, so how can you? I know I said I was happy for you, but not when I know what you love most is Moghulikhan. You love it so much, and you are giving it up.”

Naran summoned all her poise and bravery to soothe her little sister’s hair and kiss her head. “It is not Moghulikhan I truly love, but you, my little fox. My match will ensure you find that one special person who brings you joy. You will marry someone who will rule Moghulikhan beside you, and you will be happy and loved, and our people will be forever grateful.”

“They should be grateful to you then,” Saran protested. “I know I am.”

“Thank me by being happy.”

The girl’s hands tightened around Naran’s back. “And what about you? Can you be happy here?”

The crown princess smiled. “I can be happy anywhere knowing you are safe and free.”

“Princess Sarangerel!” called the queen again from the carriage, this time far more desperately.

The sisters rolled their eyes at one another, burst into one final giggle, and hugged one last time. Naran stole the moment to whisper, “Kiss a few boys if you want. Be smart, be strong, be fearless, and never, ever settle. You are Crown Princess of Moghulikhan now, and you are a force to be reckoned with, Your Highness.”

“I love you, Naran!”

“I love you more. Now, go, before Mother has a heart attack or Father goes deaf."

Naran shooed her sister back toward the carriage, and with one final look back, her little sister climbed aboard. One of the servants shut the door, and the next thing Naran knew, the gates had opened and the front of the caravan had already disappeared through. The last thing she saw was the grumpy beak of the goose the prince had gifted them at the wedding ceremony, a ridiculous reminder of the day her life had irrevocably changed.

Naran was sure the clatter of hooves and the snap of the Moghul banners in the sudden gusts would weigh on her mind forever as she watched the last of the carts disappear behind the great wooden doors of Changdeokgung.

“I am sorry to see your family leave,” said the empress behind Naran, startling her. As alone as she felt, the princess had honestly forgotten that anyone else was there with her. “They are very good people.”

“I thank you for saying so,” the princess replied, though her words were hollow.

Hyungwon put his hand on her back in support, but she shrank away. She wasn’t in the mood for comfort or even acknowledgment.

“I never met a man who could hold his liquor as well as Delger Khan,” said Emperor Gongmin as though he hadn’t plotted to take everything away from the man mere months ago.

Naran felt sick.

“I should like to go inside now,” she said as she turned back toward the palace. The princess did not wait for them to follow, even as Hyungwon called out for her.

It started to rain just then. It was only a few fat drops at first, but then the heavens opened with a torrent, and as the other royals scattered under servants’ umbrellas, Naran pressed forward undeterred. At least the rain could hide her tears.

It was deep into a sleepless night when Naran heard a very soft knock on her door.

With a tremendous sigh, she clambered out of bed and wrapped her robe around herself before she shuffled over and rasped, “Who is it?”

“It’s Hyungwon.”

Her head drooped. She was not in the mood to entertain a bored prince, now more than ever.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Could you open the door please?”

Naran growled and swore under her breath, but she opened the door all the same. Waiting on the other side with the sweetest of smiles was the prince.

“Hi,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“You did not. What does his highness need at this late hour?” Truly, Naran had planned to be more polite, but her eyes were tired from crying and she didn’t have the energy.

Hyungwon gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment before he said, “I wanted to see if you would join me for a drink?”

He waggled two glasses along with a bottle of clear, sloshing liquid, and as much as the princess burned to drink herself into oblivion, she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure, Princess? I know what today asked of you.”

Naran choked back a sob just before she could embarrass herself and instead offered a reluctant nod. Hyungwon echoed it and took a step forward, but she held out her hand to stop him.

“Not here,” she ordered. She wanted to be as far away from any place they could conceivably spend another night together and just as far away from the memories of the ones they already had spent.

“How about my study then? It’s quiet, and no one will bother us there.”

Another single nod from the princess.

“Shall I get dressed?” she asked.

“Come as you are,” Hyungwon answered. “There’s no need for pretenses between us.”

But Naran wasn’t so sure about that. She tugged her robe tighter and cinched the collar with her hand. Following the weak light of the prince’s candle, they walked down the corridor to a wing she had only visited on her initial palace tour. Here, the walls were dark, many draped in tapestries or heavy curtains. At night, it felt more like a brothel. She didn’t remember it looking this suggestive on her tour, yet now, the walls felt close, almost pressing against her.

“Are you okay, Princess?” asked Hyungwon. “You look like you’re going to jump out of your own skin.”

“I’m fine.”

The prince considered her words for a moment before he pushed ahead to a heavy door.

“My private study,” he said as he eased it open.

This room had been on her tour as well, but Naran had been too overwhelmed at the time to bother glancing at it. Now, she’d wished she had for the benefit of seeing it on a sunny day. As with every room in the palace, it was large with soaring ceilings, but swaddled in shadows, it was tantalizingly intimate.

Unlike most of the rooms in the palace, Hyungwon had designed his study with a Western influence. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined one wall while a long dresser anchored the other beneath an enormous mirror that no doubt cost more than the yearly salaries of all the servants back in Urga. When he lit the candelabra in front of it, the whole study glittered.

The prince’s desk commanded the space, however. It was huge and heavy, as though the tree it had once been had grown right there and they’d just built the room around it. Thick, smooth lacquer drew out the warmth in the wood like a magnifying glass while ornate carvings of tigers and dragons in eternal battle exemplified its strength. Short of the throne itself, there was no finer piece of furniture Naran had ever seen.

Hyungwon stood behind his desk, and even in his silk robes, his might was unquestionable. If he opened his lips to declare war on every kingdom in the six realms, Naran wasn’t sure she could stop even herself from kneeling.

But, instead, the prince pulled out his chair and gestured toward it. “Please sit, my lady.”

“I couldn’t possibly—”

“Please. You’ll be more comfortable here.”

Naran stared at the immaculate upholstery and overstuffed cushions before she looked back at her husband. “Are you sure?”

Hyungwon nodded and took the seat safely across the desk to make his stance on the issue crystal clear. At last, the princess sank into her chair, too, which was easily the most comfortable chair she’d ever sat in. He uncorked the bottle, and immediately, the pungent aroma of alcohol filled the study. The prince poured a draft of liquor into both shot glasses and passed one across the table.

When Naran had hers in hand, he said, “I promise, my lady, from here on out, it shall get better.”

Thinking it the toast, the princess raised her glass and knocked it back while Hyungwon followed suit with a smirk on his face. At first, Naran didn’t understand why.

Then she felt it.

Scorching agony blazed a trail down her throat to sit like lava in her stomach. For a second, she thought she might breathe fire.

“What the hell is that!” she wailed as she tried to scratch the taste of naphtha from her tongue.

“I told you it would only get better from here. You’ll like this a great deal more the second go-around.”

“I'm never drinking that again,” Naran swore.

Hyungwon smiled knowingly.

“Seriously, what is that rancid stuff?”

“A gift from the Emperor of Champa.”

“My mother was right then,” Naran mused with a slow smile, “Princess Binh was gunning for an alliance with Goryeo.”

“I wouldn't say the princess was,” Hyungwon informed. “Emperor Gia Long seemed more concerned with the match than his daughter. Princess Binh mostly just complained to me that the weather in Goryeo is too cold and that there are no beaches or coconuts here.”

“If I knew all it took to turn you off from a match was complaining about missing sand and sun, I would have spent more time talking about the Gobi.”

“It was too late by that point. I had already made up my mind about you,” said the prince. He poured another drink and offered it to her. “Again, my lady?”

She bit her lip as she considered, but the other alternative was chatting privately with her husband sober, and she didn’t have the strength left for such a thing after today. Naran downed the shot and grimaced.

“Better?” he asked.

“Still disgusting.”

“But better.”

The truth was, this time, her stomach felt warm and fuzzy instead of full of liquid fire, and her limbs were buzzing lightly. Thanks to the distracting sensations, she probed, “Were there any other princesses you considered that night?”

Hyungwon shrugged. “My father had given me a short list, but after meeting all of them, I knew I couldn’t marry any one of them.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, they were storybook princesses—all beautiful and sweet and perfect, to be sure, but completely one-dimensional.”

“That sounds perfect for you, are you crazy!” Naran retorted.

Hyungwon smiled. “Perfect for my kingdom, but you know me well enough now, my lady. I’m hardly perfect for my kingdom.”

“So, this is why I find myself sulking in the most expensive chair I’ve ever seen drinking the foulest drink I’ve ever tasted from a princess who hoped to wed my husband?”

The prince poured yet another round and said, “I’ll drink to that.”

Naran tipped back her glass, and this time, instead of a hiss as the liquid coated her throat, she hummed. “Better.”

“Told you,” said Hyungwon with two charming high eyebrows.

“That’s no reason to get cocky.”

The prince laughed, and on a day with no laughter at all, it sounded all the warmer. Or perhaps that was just the alcohol talking.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Hyungwon said.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Maybe we should take the drinks slower then. This stuff is a lot stronger than soju.”

“Maybe you should stop making my decisions for me,” Naran challenged, tapping her empty glass on the table for a refill. “I might be Goryeon by title, but I'm Moghul by birth. Alcohol is already in our blood.”

With a stern eye, the prince poured a noticeably smaller portion this round, and she sighed but drank it all the same.

Hyungwon watched her lips pucker as it went down and then he said, “How are you faring today?”

“Great. Everything is going exactly as I always hoped and dreamed,” she said, the sarcasm extra biting thanks to the bitterness in the alcohol. “Another.”

Hyungwon repeated the same shallow pour and then sat across from his wife, watching her with gentle eyes. Either he did not know what to say or he was afraid of another blow to his self-esteem—or maybe it was neither of those things. Everything about him was so soft right now, borderline inviting, like something Naran could fall right into.

“I’m afraid that was the last time I shall ever see my father.” The words were out too fast for her greased lips to catch them as was the tear at the corner of her eye. She swiped it angrily away as she grumbled, “I should have married Prince Grigoriy like my grandfather wanted.”

Hyungwon blinked hard. “Grigoriy of Kazan?”

Naran nodded. “My grandfather had intended us practically, but he could not force my hand.”

“So that’s why he was staring at you all night…” said the prince, lost in a memory of the night they met in her grandfather’s ballroom.

Naran thought back to it, too. It was harder now to recall some of the details since most of the night had been overtaken by memories of Hyungwon, but she did recall avoiding every corner of the room the Kazan prince occupied just so she didn’t have to come up with another reason to refuse him.

“I should have just married him. At least then I would have been close to home.”

The prince pouted his lower lip, and Naran’s attention couldn’t help but shoot to it—her husband did have an unfairly pretty mouth.

“But,” Hyungwon objected, “all you would have for dinner every night is beets and cabbage. We eat much better in Goryeo.”

At that, Naran burst out laughing. “You truly do. Beets and cabbage… Never thought about that. I’ll drink to that.”

The princess tipped back her glass again, and Hyungwon drained his, too.

“You know,” she said, biting her lip and leaning farther across the table than she normally would have, “you’re way too pretty. I don’t like your face.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “You don’t?”

“I do not! Even when I want to tell you to go far away from me, I cannot. It makes it very hard for me to hate you.”

“Why do you need to hate me?”

“Because if I don’t hate you, then I have to admit I have in some way accepted the man who took me away from everything I love.”

Hyungwon was quiet for a moment as he busied himself with two fresh pours. He downed his immediately while Naran watched him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Princess.”

“There’s no point in apologizing now.”

The prince kept his head down though he shook it gently. “You misunderstand. I’m not sorry that you’re by my side now, but I am sorry for what it cost you. Maybe that’s what I’m sorrier about than anything. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to becoming my father, yet I can’t regret it because you’re here now… with me.”

Naran’s hand trembled, and she misjudged the desk when she reeled back and splashed liquor all over the wood, but there was no time to care, not when the prince was staring at her so openly with such flushed, wet lips.

“I should slap you for such an insulting apology,” she said.

Hyungwon waited, perhaps for the justified blow, but Naran’s hand didn’t move.

Instead, her voice dropped as her eyes slid to the mirror where their reflections danced in the candelabra flames.

“Why did you even need me anyway? If you wanted someone to be your friend, you had a line as long as your borders. Anyone would have been a better choice for you than I am. Why did you pick the one person who thinks of marriage as the forfeiture of all freedom?”

“What is so wrong with depending on someone? I've lived my whole life without it. It isn't freedom,” replied the prince, his eyes falling to his glass. “It's a prison of loneliness.”

He knocked back the drink without so much as a wince. Somehow, as he hunched over his desk, his smooth edges blurred even further and begged her to reach out.

Naran ran her fingertip around the lip of her glass as guilt and something even more intimidating rippled through her.

“Aren’t you lonely, too?” he asked in a gruff whisper.

“It's not loneliness I feel but bitterness.”

The prince scoffed. “Of course, it is... My father was right. I am a fool.”

“You could have had anyone, my lord. As grateful as I am for the protection of my people, you didn't owe Moghulikhan anything. Why did you have to choose me?”

“I guess you can't help how you feel,” he lamented.

Panic set her heart on fire. “How do you—”

The prince cut her off with a frantic look. “Which is why I know I'm asking for the impossible, but please, for my sake, Princess, can you tell me just one thing you like about me because I can’t stand another day thinking I married someone who despises me?”

“I don’t despise you,” Naran admitted softly. “I’m not sure anyone could.”

Flashes of adoring faces from every room he had ever entered stormed through her mind, the thin-eyed, bitten-lip women clinging most tenaciously to her memories. The princess downed her last shot to chase them away.

“But you don’t like me either,” Hyungwon finished.

The couple’s gazes could not waver from one another, no matter how hard Naran fought to sever their connection.

Your eyes talk to one another…

At the memory of Magda’s words, something uncoiled in the princess’s chest and snaked through her body.

There was much about her husband Naran admired. Hyungwon listened. He defended her. He upheld his promises. But he might interpret any one of those things to mean more than just appreciation for someone she respected. Best to stick to something superficial, she thought.

As desperate to fill the Moghulikhan-sized hole in her heart as she was to avoid the dejection in her husband’s voice, the princess reached across the ocean of his desk. She held her breath, her hand frozen as though anything further would trigger a trip wire that could fundamentally rearrange everything between them.

Naran bit her lip.

“I like this little freckle here,” she said as her fingertip glanced across the pinprick dot on the side of his nose.

Hyungwon stiffened at her touch though his mouth slackened.

“And this one, too,” she continued. This time, it was her thumb that pressed on the tawny freckle dead center on his bottom lip. “I like it a lot.”

In the end, she gave away too much of herself. The prince now knew how carefully she had mapped his face. Even though a wife didn’t need a reason to look at her husband, Naran thought that maybe she should have chosen anything else. His silky hair, his expressive eyes, his proud shoulders—

Only then Naran realized she was still touching his lips.

Hyungwon kissed the pad of her thumb and her breath hitched. She yanked back her hand and tried to quash its shaking by sitting on it, but she felt the vibrations all the way up her arm even then.

“Thank you,” he muttered as he looked away at last.

Naran’s skin was aflame as she busied herself divining shapes from the inky blobs on the prince’s blotter.

“How about one final drink?” he suggested.

“Okay.”

Hyungwon poured to the rim this time, but before they could drink, out came the things that had occupied the princess’s thoughts all day as she had stared blankly in her room. “So, what happens now that everyone has gone?”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe I’m supposed to spend my days apart from yours.”

“Oh…” His eyes fell to the liquid fire in his glass. “Yes, I’m sure a princess has as much to occupy her time as a prince does.”

“So, as far as ensuring heirs, shall we establish some kind of schedule then?”

At this, Hyungwon’s face soured as the princess had never seen before. “A schedule— Does it always have to be about heirs between us? Am I not allowed to just want you sometimes, too?”

Want me? Naran thought, absolutely incredulous. Beyond the bounds of our contract?

“It is best if we keep feelings out of these things, your highness,” she answered with an embarrassingly shaky voice.

“Who’s talking about feelings? Was it ever about love with any of the others you've been with?”

“No,” she admitted.

Both lovers had been handsome, forward, and uncomplicated. Words were rarely exchanged. They had taken her at first opportunity—in alleys or the stables and once in the grass. Before her wedding night, Naran had never even had sex in a bed. And the other thing those lovers had had in common? After a few meetings, they were gone from her life. But the princess could not outrun the prince. For better or worse, they were in each other’s lives forever.

Hyungwon looked as forthright as ever as he asked, “Then shouldn’t I be able to say that I desire you as a man desires a woman? If you let them, why can’t you let me?”

Naran downed her last drink, and in her rush, a bit wept from the corner of her mouth. She licked her lips and then the corner, and there was no missing the way the prince’s eyes followed her tongue.

“Do you think,” he said slowly, “you could ever desire me?”

In the perfect silence of the empty wing, the princess could hear her every breath. It was too fast, too ragged.

“Yes.”

The air was electrified. Every hair on her arms stood on end. Somewhere outside, a dog bayed at the late summer moon.

At once, Hyungwon sent the glasses and bottle tumbling to the carpet with a thud and a splash. He kicked back his chair as he shot up to circle the desk. Naran had to crane her head to look up at the towering frame of her husband until she found his heavy eyes. Without a word, he scooped her out of her chair. The princess yelped, her hands flinging around his neck as he spun the pair of them to the now-empty desk. The smell of alcohol and something spicier swirled around them. He leaned toward her lips before catching himself at the last second, and whatever gentleness had lingered in those eyes fled entirely.

The prince was nothing but dark lusts now.

To Naran’s surprise, Hyungwon sat her on the edge of his desk, and between the cold wood and the loss of his scorching body, she shivered. It only worsened when she felt his fingers at the knot of her belt, and seconds later, her robe fell open to expose the thin white silk of her nightgown.

Hyungwon didn’t say anything. He simply stooped over to kiss the column of her throat with ravenous lips. The princess gasped and tipped her head to the side to give him more skin to taste. He was quick to cover the new ground as his hand traced up her frame to her covered breast where he toyed with the soft mound beneath. Naran’s body responded with both a desperate moan and a tightening nipple aching for his fingers to shower it with attention.

It was easy to descend into hedonism with him. Though the alcohol had burned away her resentment, Naran was still heartbroken and angry and tired of feeling both. Hyungwon, though, was warm and real and determined to transport her out of the grayness she’d been mired in, as much for her as for himself evidently.

“Is this—ah—is this for the throne?” she said through her gasps, but Hyungwon shook his head.

“Not tonight. This is for my wife.”

The princess let out a little cry as she felt the familiar tingle between her thighs. In a matter of a few words, her body was tuned to his.

Before Naran could process it, Hyungwon had dropped to his knees. With the utmost care, he eased the satin slippers from each of her feet before his fingers played about her naked ankles. There, he traced the hills and valleys along her heels and, once they were mapped, his hands glided along the flare of her calves. With his every touch, little sparklers alighted in her head and heart.

The higher his hands climbed, so did the hem of her gown. Cold air rushed under the fabric, and by the time Hyungwon had bared her knees, the princess was begging for the relief from the rush of heat to her core. Leisurely, he parted her legs, and with every inch, the princess felt a little more frantic and a little more self-conscious. Once he had spread her knees as far as the desk would allow, they quivered and threatened to close again.

“Trust me, my princess,” said the prince in his rich velvet.

“I’ve never—” Against her will, Naran’s voice shook. “I’ve never had anyone so close to me there before.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Naran held her breath. She was scared and overwhelmed and painfully aware of her body, but Hyungwon showed no sign of hesitation or second thoughts. With a shaky exhale, she admitted, “I don’t want you to.”

“Then I won’t. Not until you beg me to.”

Her husband turned his attention to one of her knees and placed his lips there. It wasn’t exactly a kiss, more like a caress with the tender skin of his mouth, back and forth in soothing waves. Occasionally, his tongue would gloss along her flesh and only then would he seal his ministration with a true kiss. With one knee bathed in his adoration, he switched to the other.

Just as Naran slouched against the desk, Hyungwon moved his mouth to her mid-thigh, and this time, he sucked the responsive skin there until she arched up with a howl. He released her, and when he pulled back, the princess saw a dark mark on the once-unblemished peachy flesh. Instantly, wanton desire trickled at her sex, begging for attention he wasn’t yet ready to give.

Hyungwon nudged his new brand with the tip of his nose before he kissed it and then placed a twin mark alongside it. He kept indulging her with his tongue until the princess was nearly ready to explode.

“Oh, please! More, my prince. Please,” Naran pleaded.

The prince broke his seal at last and shifted his gaze up to hers. He charted the sag of her jaw and the peek of her tongue lolling at the corner of her mouth, and he smiled. “More?”

“Higher!” she demanded.

Hyungwon gathered her nightgown at her hips, the fabric drooping in front of her center in a last-ditch effort of modesty but sparing nothing else for her prince’s imagination. Here, he kissed and nibbled every surrounding inch of virgin skin until Naran’s thighs shook with the foreplay and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She let out a sob of frustration, and it garnered all his attention.

Their eyes met, hers even heavier-lidded than his. Through the well of tears at her lashes, Hyungwon’s face splintered into a kaleidoscope of ethereal beauty.

“Don’t cry, my darling,” soothed the prince.

He hoisted up the last of the gown over her hips and exposed her core for him.

“Let me treat you like the princess you are.”

Naran held her breath and collapsed onto the desk, too embarrassed to watch.

She felt a kiss at the juncture of her thigh and lip followed by another mirrored on the opposite side. It was feather-light and unbearably sensual, but it was only the prelude to a new and unforgettable kind of kiss. With pulse-pounding pressure, Hyungwon raked his flush bottom lip up along her seam to kiss the hardening button peeking through, and as good as that felt, it only intensified with a second pass, this one featuring the flat of his tongue.

Naran’s moan made way for a pathetic whine. Her legs squeezed against the onslaught of pleasure, so Hyungwon curled his fingers around the meat of her thighs to keep her at his mercy.

He took his work seriously, keeping his rhythm consistent save for the swirl he would occasionally surprise her with around her straining bud. In those moments, the princess saw stars.

When her eyes finally opened, she found her head had lolled to the side, and there she found her husband’s reflection glowing, not just by tangerine flame but by something softer and even more shimmery. Hyungwon felt her gaze, and his mouth lifted from her only to be replaced by his middle finger easing deep into her pinkness. He turned toward the mirror to catch her eyes there, and slowly, he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh that deepened until she felt yet another delicious burn on her skin.

“How pretty my little star looks writhing on my desk,” Hyungwon murmured, and then suckled a little higher to adorn more of her skin with his black marks of desire.

His finger moved slowly in her walls, coaxing forth ripples of ecstasy Naran had never felt before. Each stroke was deliberate and far, far too measured to do anything but keep her on the precipice of climax. It was heaven. It was hell.

“So tight,” Hyungwon hummed, and she whimpered. “So delicious. You’re totally at my mercy now, aren’t you?"

Naran couldn’t answer, but she knew he wasn’t looking for that anyway. Her legs tightened at his illicit words. Between her husband’s praise and his intimacy, she squirmed for him.

He brought his lips back to the cherry blossom at her sex, and when they closed around it to suckle, the princess keened low and long. The pressure was relentless and just right to make her forget anything that wasn’t Chae Hyungwon. Her hips bucked, but he used his free hand to hold her down while the other continued to stoke the fire inside her.

“Do you like when I spoil you like this?” he asked as he came up for air.

“Yes… Yes, yes, yes!” Naran answered. “But I want more. Faster!”

“How many times have you called me lazy, hm? Maybe I just want to take my time, to feast on you and show you what a sweet indulgence laziness can be.”

To her horror, Hyungwon removed his finger, leaving her core seizing around nothing. Tears sprang to her eyes in desperation, and she sat up on her elbows to gape at the man who was abandoning her just as her addiction had mounted to frenetic levels.

“You can’t—” she protested, but he just smiled, smug and scheming all at once.

When he dove back in, he focused on one fold and then the other, with long strokes of his tongue before pulling each one at a time into his mouth. Every nerve ending tingled. Every inch of skin yearned for more of his attention.

“Put your hands in my hair,” he mumbled between her legs, and Naran’s fingers raced into his locks.

It felt so good to hold his head in her hands. Her nails raked against his scalp before she took to tugging on the glossy strands. Hyungwon purred contentedly as he licked up the mess continuously leaking from her sex, and the noisier he was, the harder it made the princess shake until she realized she was grinding herself on his face. Mortified, she unwound her fingers from his locks as she mumbled an apology.

“I didn’t tell you to let me go,” Hyungwon scolded, and when she opened her eyes, she found him looking up at her with a chin covered in arousal and eyes fixed with determination.

It was clear he had no intention of finishing the job unless she caved to his wishes, so Naran ran her hands back through his bangs to bare his smooth brow. The prince’s eyes closed as he leaned into her grip, and it was so tender, that she thought her heart might burst, but if she stopped, he would stop, and she couldn’t bear the thought again.

Hyungwon’s finger was back at her core now with the addition of another. Together, they traced her entrance, and every time she thought he would enter her again, he deprived her of the gratification. It was the purest torture of her life, and Naran could barely stand it. Her need for her husband had reached embarrassing levels too terrifying to admit.

At last, two fingers glided into her wet and ready indecency, sending her arching up from the desk with a wail.

“It's so much!” she said between heavy pants.

“Too much?”

“Not enough!”

Hyungwon smiled as he picked up speed at last, stretching her walls with every thrust to his knuckles. Luscious coos of gratitude spilled from Naran’s lips as she took his fingers greedily. He knew just how to reach the parts inside of her that responded most ferociously, and in moments, she was teetering over the edge she’d been standing on forever.

His fingers pistoned within her now, churning up filthy sounds that brought color to the princess’s cheeks and hunger to the prince’s eyes.

“I can’t—breathe,” Naran gasped pathetically. “I’m begging you please! Please. I want to let go!”

Hyungwon groaned and dove back to her heat again. His mouth sealed around her pulsing button now as he sucked and flicked his tongue against her until she thought she might go mad. He slipped both of her legs over his shoulders and pressed against her with single-minded resolve to make her forget everything that wasn’t him.

She risked a glance at him, and things got fuzzy fast. His elegant face was framed between the softness of her thighs, his nose bumping against her mound and his eyes shuttered with conviction. Her hand cupped the back of his head as her hips couldn’t stop themselves from driving into his mouth.

And then those wicked eyes opened, locking on hers.

Bliss ripped through Naran with catastrophic devastation. Every muscle within her shook as her lungs constricted and her walls pulsed. Her heels dug into her husband’s back as her thighs clamped around his head, nearly suffocating him.

Here, on a desk where armies were commanded and laws were enforced, the princess came undone with a racking cry.

But, true to his word, Hyungwon wasn’t done.

He kept his fingers thrusting into her quaking walls as one climax ended and another threatened, only this one felt unbearable and impossible. The pleasure was too intense, and her hips tried to run from him as though they were afraid of such unfathomable ecstasy.

Naran’s mind emptied. Even through winched eyes, tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I can’t take it, oh!” she wailed.

“Yes, you can, darling,” he assured. “Just a little more, I know you can.”

“My pr— Yes, I—”

The tip of his tongue flicked her swollen bud again, fast this time and with no restraint. As her vision whitened, Naran clawed the desk, no doubt leaving scratches in the impeccable veneer. There wasn’t a muscle in her body that didn’t seize then.

Another swirl of his tongue and a long, fierce suckle, and she was gone.

She thought she might have screamed, but she might have lost any senses that weren’t solely centered on the exquisite decadence between her thighs.

She collapsed then, whimpering, the last of her strength focusing on her heel to push him back by the shoulder.

“Please, no more,” she whimpered, absolutely deflated. “I beg you.”

“As you wish, my darling. Feel better?” he asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled her gown back down her legs.

“You’re—wow,” Naran stammered. “You’re really good at that.”

Something fanged and slippery snaked through her chest at the thought of all the practice he had required to become so skilled, but with one glance at his eyes now buoyed by a soft smile, it tempered.

“Do you need help getting up?” he asked.

“You’re not going to—to take me?” the princess asked incredulously.

“I told you tonight wasn’t about the throne. All I wanted was to make you feel good, my lady. Was I successful?”

Naran narrowed her eyes at him. She could tell by the way his tongue probed his cheek and his chest puffed that the man was keenly aware of just how thoroughly he had devastated his wife. His smug confidence was as appealing as it was infuriating.

“You were,” she admitted carefully.

“It was a pleasure to serve you then, my lady. So, that’s a no to the help?”

“No,” she insisted, though as soon as she put her toes back to the ground, she wobbled and stumbled back against the desk. “Yes.”

Hyungwon snickered and helped guide Naran back into the chair, where she slumped instantly. Alcohol mixed with the chaser of ecstasy to keep the room spinning around her, so she closed her eyes while her breathing steadied. Images of her body writhing in the mirror while her husband kneeled between her legs insisted on flashing in her mind, and a sigh tumbled out of her to her absolute mortification.

“You all right?” he asked with a grin evident in his voice.

“Just fine,” she answered immediately, waving him off.

While Naran lounged in the chair, the prince picked up the glasses and bottle from the floor, and something surprisingly boastful of her own bubbled in her heart.

“I don’t think the Emperor of Champa would appreciate our use of his gift,” she laughed.

“Maybe I should write to him to thank him again?”

At the seriousness in the prince’s voice, the princess shot up in her seat. “Don’t you dare, sire!”

“And what are you going to do to stop me?”

This time, Hyungwon was unmistakably provoking her, and Naran bit her lip. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she held her liquor well, but when his playful side came out, it always made her feel drunker than she really was.

“You better not,” she warned, “or, next time, you drink alone.”

At this, Hyungwon pouted. “Didn’t I make this worth your while?”

Naran shrugged a shoulder as casually as she could manage. “Maybe this is slightly better than what I was doing…”

“And maybe this was a little for me, too,” he admitted, “because now I will think of you every time they force me in here to do work I don’t want to do. Instead, I’ll think of someone I’d rather be doing.”

“My lord!” Naran cried, indignant, as she cinched her robe tight to her throat again, and Hyungwon laughed in his carefree, spirit-lifting way.

“You’re very fun to tease, my lady.”

“And you’re very annoying, my lord.”

“How are you feeling? Are you ready to return to your room?”

Naran pressed her lips together as she considered more than just her husband’s question. When they had come here, she had been determined to keep him as far from her room as possible, but now, the understanding that she would be going back solo was more disheartening than she thought. Maybe she was lonelier than she realized.

“I think so,” she answered though.

“Then I shall see you back, Princess.”

Naran rose on still-shaky legs to join her husband in the hallway, and slowly, they made their way back toward their building. They chatted idly about their schedules for the week, his filled with meetings and diplomatic engagements while most of her obligations involved goodwill ambassadorship with the empress. It may not have been anything she had wanted for her life, but it was less onerous than she thought. Of course, maybe that was also colored by her tipsy, post-full body release daze.

Just then, Naran stumbled and caught herself against the wall. Hyungwon let out the briefest of chuckles before he stopped them both and swept her up into the basket of his arms to her yelp.

“I can manage on my own,” she protested, swatting at his arm behind her knees.

“Of course, my lady, but it's taking a very long time, and I would like to get to my room before sun-up.”

She scoffed. “Please. You're never in a hurry to get anywhere. You just wanted to show how strong you are.”

“You think I'm strong?” he echoed, but she could tell by the flex in his voice that she was on target.

Naran folded her hands defiantly in her lap even though she would have felt far stabler if she’d wrapped them behind the prince’s neck.

“You do not appreciate help, do you?” Hyungwon pressed.

“I would if I truly needed it. Are you sure you don't just like playing the savior?”

“I wouldn't say ‘just.’ Perhaps one day I hope you might need me back.”

Back?

“Besides,” he added, “I don’t mind an excuse to have your arms around me.”

“They're not—” With horror, Naran realized that her body had betrayed her, and, at some point, she had knotted her hands behind his neck after all, and worse yet, she could not will them back to her lap. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” said Hyungwon with a grin.

“After this, I feel rather badly about kicking you out of my room so quickly the other night,” she admitted reluctantly. “Perhaps next time I will not be so rash.”

“Thank you, Princess,” was all he said, though he was smiling smugly to himself again.

At last, they reached their wing, and the prince put his wife down at her doorstep, though he waited there awkwardly as neither of them seemed to know what to say.

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight,” he said into the silence. “I know you didn’t want to.”

Naran kept her eyes on her slippered feet as she replied, “Thank you for asking. Truly, I am glad I went.”

“You are?”

At the hope in his voice, her eyes shot up to find his waiting, dark as always but with none of his particular brand of blackness that made her wary of his designs. This time, the darkness was inviting—and in many ways, that made it all the more dangerous.

Hyungwon took a step forward. Naran took one back. Her spine was flush to her door, and she could feel the carvings digging through the thin fabric of her robe. His hand flattened on the panel beside her face as he leaned down.

His breath blazed in the shell of her ear as he whispered, “Please think well of me, my lady. After all, we only have each other now.”

With that, Hyungwon kissed his wife’s cheek and bid her goodnight before he disappeared through his own bedroom door.

[vampsvitae]

This is my first ever ask here so I might do it wrong idk

What are some weird fancanons you have of Joy Doctors?

OHHHNMNYYYGOD THE ASK OF MY DREAMS !!!!!!!

sorry if this is too much and way more than you were wanting and also sorry if they are weird and stupid and should've stayed behind bars ^_^

(all are under the cut to avoid this being annoying to everyone and also myself :3)

as a first. which is also starting off strong. i think they like to smell Each Other (can be 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 also i guess...) because i kinda figure them to be sort of like drug dogs :3 in a way i think it'd be so they can feel "at work" if they knew the other was working with downers/on the streets because the smell would probably linger (also because they are FAGS in my mind palace)

i think they have very odd infatuations with patients and sometimes even each other (possibly the bobbies also but i don't really like them so bleh)

i think they really like flowers and planting :3 (somewhat implied by the flowers in their coat pockets and victoria's dlc) which also leads me to believe they'd have little clubs and stuff or have shared gardens

they have like. really stereotypical high school drama at the health institute. (like a nurse stole another nurses man. whatever the equivalent of keying their ex's car for them is, they do it). they fucking bully the SHIT out of each other too

especially like the high school hierarchies. the "popular kids" of the doctors basically just piss on fucking everyone but when someone who is more than two hypothetical classes below them does that shit they are IMMEDIATELY reported to whatever form of hr they have

they loooooovvvveeeeee cats and birds and are often caught also feeding the mice. like they probably get so bored and it's the equivalent of feeding the birds that don't come down enough or stay long enough for them to

also they constantly bump into each other on purpose and (not actually that often) jokingly (usually because they're just fucking weirdos) rub up on one another (smelling purposes)

they skip work to go smoke and fuck around near the bridges leading into the garden districts because they wouldn't really be caught there

probably also fuck around IN the garden districts and like. ding dong ditch the wastrels. or go taunt them with food. and the equivalent of chucking microwaved honeybuns at their heads

(feeding into high school caste system) they have to organize groups to distract certain doctors because they're basically like teacher's pets and shit on their parade all the time

they like to hang near the areas in the parade where it's the little railings at the edges and look out at the water. similarly, they like to see what shapes they can find in the clouds (often only penises)

they have work husbands or whatever they're called. i am being so serious when i say this. also have "dates" (usually double+ dates!) to unwind and be with "like minded people" (pining)

[kitkatt0430]

Six (Or More) Sentence Sunday!!!! Remembered to do this before getting caught up doing other stuff today.

“It’s a timeline based off what I remember strongest for the through-line life that would have made it to the version of the multi-verse crises that led to this multi-verse rebooting into the next,” Barry said. “There were a lot of timelines to sort through and reject in my memories. Still an ongoing project, getting my closet in order.” Eobard rolled his eyes. Of all the inane things to turn into his mind palace… an infinitely large closet. “Next up on the ‘who’s that criminal meta’ game, should be Danton Black. He’s going to be gunning for Simon Stagg. The way this timeline would have played out if I hadn’t gotten my head crammed full of future events? I’d have stopped him, barely, but Danton commits suicide rather than let me stop him from falling out of what should have been shatterproof windows. A gunshot won’t break that glass but a handful of determined clones can? Someone committed fraud with that install,” Barry rambled and then shook his head. “Sorry. I’m a bit talky today. Anyway. You killed Stagg anyway in that timeline. I’ve never been sure why, but no great loss there. Met enough alternate versions of him that for a half decent reason I’d happily drop him off the nearest cliff and call it a hiking accident.”

No one likes Simon Stagg. Especially not 'brain full of infinite realities' Barry Allen.

This scene is from the first part of the tentatively named fic 'Networking' for the Timeless Nonsense series. Barry was getting a little more work in on sorting out the timelines and plotting his next moves when Eobard dropped in to see how it's progressing. This fic will contain Barry heading over to Starling to drop in on Oliver, Felicity, and Dig. But also... Eobard winds up visiting someone he hasn't seen since before the accelerator explosion after learning this person is essentially on Barry's hit list for easier timeline management. He doesn't realize he's having a bit of an ethics crisis, but Eobard is totally having a bit of an ethics crisis. (Don't worry, it's not Simon Stagg. He's gonna die in the fic after this one and no one is gonna feel sorry about it.)

I also finally made some progress on The Story of HR Wells as a sort of back and forth between past and present that'll end either with Cynthia arriving on Earth-1 of HR lending Cisco the original copy of his World War M historical accounting. It's part of Coffee, Drumsticks, and Social Revolutions and I'm doing some world building in here that'll mean I need to go back and do a bit of editing on the fics already posted. Mostly minor things - Earth-19 refers to it's doctorates a bit differently now and other stuff that really makes it feel a bit more like a close-but-not culture over there.

By then it’s time for lunch with Caitlin before the apartment hunt began. He keyed Caitlin into the transmogrifier so that she sees him, not the part Randolf and part HR blend that he was wearing for the rest of the world. They chat about nothing in particular really, but HR can’t help but notice she’s hiding a second patch of cut-short hair with her barrettes today. Maybe it’s time to try the whole reaching out thing. Even if she doesn’t reciprocate, at least HR would have tried to help her. And she might still reach out in return down the line. He started with a mild complaint about his shoulder. “I’m glad I’ve got you along or I might just take the first apartment I see so I can put a mattress in it that won’t cause that nerve in my shoulder to pinch. Messes up my whole arm for the day when it happens. Or more than a day sometimes.” “Oh no,” Caitlin frowned, going into doctor mode. “You’re sure it’s just a pinched nerve?”

HR is trying to help Caitlin deal with what he still currently thinks is just PTSD problems, but it turns out the things he's about to tell her about his struggles with coping with the aftermath of brain damage from a war wound - in the first conversation they have here and a few subsequent ones - help her with her fears about how different her own thoughts become whenever her powers try to become active.

Obviously, what Caitlin's going through is quite different from HR did, but she's still struggling with her brain chemistry changing on her, altering the way she thinks and feels about everything. And HR understands how upsetting and frightening that is in a way no one else on Team Flash does.

[hibewriter]

Holiday Party

Masterlist   Read it on AO3

Shadow & Bone | Darklina | 4.9K | E 

Tags: Non-Con | Dub-Con | Age Gap | Daddy Kink | Hotel Sex

From: hr@shadowfoldinc.com

To: corporate@shadowfoldinc.com

Subject: Holiday Party

Come one, come all! We are so excited to have you for the Shadow Fold Agency's fiftieth-holiday extravaganza luncheon at the Little Palace Hotel in downtown Os Alta. All festivities are on the third floor. 

Please remember that valet parking is complimentary! You will receive a validation ticket at registration in the beginning. Final information attached! Remember, the only thing required of you is to HAVE FUN!!! 

Have fun. 

Yes, because there was nothing more fun than cramming into the halls of Os Alta's nicest hotel, surrounded by hundreds of people she barely knew, for the off chance of a thirty-dollar gift card. Okay, that wasn't necessarily true. It could be a substantial gift card. 

But Alina Starkov had only started at the agency in November, and she was already positive her boss (creative director and all-around hard ass, Mr. Morozova) hated her. But that won't stop her from dawning her favorite ugly sweater (lined with various puppies intended to be reindeer), a soft puffer jacket, and her favorite sparkly bag. At least the event was at a hotel. If she makes any more of a fool of herself, she'll at least be able to drink her sorrows away after. 

It was just like she expected, arriving just as the sky opened up, rain pelting her car as she waited in the long line of cars attempting to valet at the skyscraper of a hotel. She was only grateful the valet area was under an awning protecting the attendants as she slipped out, quietly joining the throng of coworkers she'd never seen enter the building. Faceless attendants maneuvered them through the lobby like hoards of cattle, not giving pause to be able to gape at the extravagant decor before being filtered into the elevators up, up, up. 

She barely registered the rush. The ticket was handed to her, moving with the throng towards the h'ordeuvres set-out. Faceless attendants passed around strange-looking finger foods while Alina tried not to seem too eager to make a beeline to the champagne bar. Only to groan at the selection. Sparkling grape juice. Now, Alina was no drunkard. But a drink to calm her nerves didn't seem like too big an ask. Yet, as she contemplated an exit strategy without being noticed, she heard her name, called loudly and brightly through the reception hall.

Genya. 

She adored the team web designer, truly. But, Alina couldn't help but smother her quickly fading chances of escape as it appeared the others on her team had also arrived. David, her kind email manager that frequently got lost explaining the nuances of their system to her. Nikolai, someone she had yet to figure out exactly what he did, but surely it was something. But, luckily, no boss man. 

“Oh my god, have you been here long?” Genya’s breathless words came out in a flurry, her hands hurriedly grabbing her own sparkling flute. Even with the dreary weather outside.  It was with a shake of her head that Genya seemed satisfied, launching into her own story about her journey to the building, barely pausing for breath as the rest of the group crowded around. It was a breath of fresh air when the ballroom doors opened, tables set to take in the influx of people. 

For a moment, she thought her boss just simply wouldn’t arrive as her team seemed to crowd at a singular table. Small conversation as the room settled, waiting to be called towards the buffet lines on either side of the large space. But, to her shock, a steady hand appeared at her back, the other pulling a chair out while her eyes widened and her back went ramrod straight. 

“Apologies,” muttered to her in an all-too-familiar voice. Deep and relaxing as a honey-molasses bath, yet cutting when the owner’s ire was directed towards you. Aleksander Morozov had only chastised her once in the month she’d been at the company, but she much preferred to never hear that voice again. In fact, she definitely preferred the more demure tone he took as he sat next to her. Each other seat was taken, and she tried to relax, avoiding Genya’s playful eye. 

She’d never been so relieved for people to start going to get food. She tried not to let it show, tried not to run towards the food on the opposite end of the room. 

"If you get any more nervous you'll throw up. And the food actually looks good." Genya's voice soothed, falling into step with her as they passed through the line. 

"I don't do well with crowds," she muttered. She wasn't paying attention to the foods she piled on her plate, an assortment of vegetables and starches, only catching herself at the turkey in ham. Genya, for her part, only hummed. 

"Yeah, Aleks is the same way. He only arrives when he has to." At this she wanted to laugh, glancing down the line to see the normally stoic Morozov in a quiet conversation with another department head. It was hard to imagine him nervous about anything. But she quickly brushed the notion aside, slipping back into her seat. 

The food was delicious, once the table sat again. She was happy to have something to preoccupy her mouth as she tried, and failed, to not halt conversation with the topics available. 

No, no family to see so I'll just be home. 

My foster brother might come to town, but he might have better things to do. 

No New Years' plans, thank you for the invitation, Genya. 

By the time the raffles came and went, several of her coworkers winning prizes, she was far more comfortable. She was able to keep her eyes down, muttering small thank yous as hotel staff came to clear their plates. Pouring small fills of actual champagne, a light toast about the success of the agency. Words were lost to her as they spoke of unmatched talent and teamwork involved in bringing in record profits. A voyeur claiming credit for others' hard work. 

It was a relief when it ended. The throngs of people were almost robotic as everyone slipped out of the room. A muffled conversation full of small talk and cliche jokes about coworkers she didn’t know. A huff as she shuffled with the crowd, somehow getting split from her department as quickly as she got to the elevators. Silently grateful to not pretend to smile and nod to more stories. 

She needed a drink. 

Or several. Stepping out of the elevator and already seeing the valet line beginning to curve through the lobby of the hotel, impatient faces and tapping shoes waiting for service. She pursed her lips, eyes scanning the space before abruptly turning towards the hotel bar. The line was shorter, and there was sitting room at the actual bar. A perfect opportunity. 

A seat as far away from the entrance as possible, nearly hidden at the edge of the bar. She lowered her head as more seemed to take her idea, the small area suddenly full of other festive partygoers were ready to take full advantage of the early afternoon off. 

"Mind if I join you?" 

Her head snapped up, the soft article nearly forgotten as her eyes made eye contact with her boss. She could swear they were fully black in the low bar lighting. Sudden dry mouth as she swallowed, a small smile as she gestured to the seat next to her. She glanced down the bar, the buzz-cut bartender slowly shaking the same shaker he'd begun with. The patron in front of him looked no less thirsty than when she sat. 

It was silent between them, minutes passing before they watched the barkeep set a drink down in front of someone. Only to watch the patron frown, mouths fixing, even over the low murmur. I actually ordered a margarita? This looks like a gimlet. A sigh ripped from Alina’s mouth as she watched the barkeep begin again. 

"It seems we might not get a drink anytime soon," Aleksander murmured. She turned to him, noticing his eyes already fixed on her face. It was like he was thinking, trying to determine his next action. 

"At the risk of alerting HR," he leaned forward as if telling her a secret. "Would you happen to want to go to a quieter bar? Perhaps get quicker service?" 

And maybe it was her desperation for a drink. Maybe it was the honey-smooth baritone of his voice. Maybe it was the one champagne glass, nearly twenty minutes ago now.  Or maybe it was her finding a little courage to talk to her boss one-on-one without him yelling at her. Whatever it was, she found herself bundled in her coat, looking at her boss searching the street signs to find his bearings. Though it did not take him long, seeming to have a map of Os Alta's downtown burned into his mind's eye. 

"Hmm, this way," he claimed. He grasped her elbow, lightly, and she found herself following his long strides. Her little legs struggled to keep up until the first intersection, where he was forced to stop and look down at her panting face. One look at her face, inflamed from the brisk city air, and he was moving. 

"You're freezing," he said, slipping his scarf off his own neck. Any protest she had died on her lips as black cashmere met her cheeks. Instant warmth with faint notes of amber and spice filled her nose before he took her hand and started navigating them through the crosswalk. 

She tried not to notice the change in hand placement. She blamed the fire in her cheeks on the scarf.

"How are you settling?" He asked at the next crosswalk, pausing for a breath as cars began to zip down the street. She did her best attempt at a shrug, willing her heart to slow down. A brisk walk would do that to a person, she was sure.  

"Good," she huffed, slightly muffled by his scarf.  "Not used to walking so fast." At this, his eyes crinkled, as if she told a joke.  

"I meant in your role, but we can slow down." She could no longer blame her flamed cheeks on the wind, ducking her head further into herself to avoid his gaze. 

"Oh! Um, good. Good, I think. A little stressful sometimes. But in a good way! I'm still trying to figure out my flow, I think. And it doesn't help that I spend so much time talking to Tante. I think we just need to get used to each other but also I think that maybe it'd be better if things weren't so jumbled. She doesn't follow any of the procedures that I have and I just want to get aligned on the same page! I dunno, maybe I should – oh my God I'm rambling." 

At this he did laugh, fingers gripping hers, tight as he began to lead her through the freshly changed crosswalk. Slower than before, she noticed. Her legs no longer screamed at her from overuse.

"Don't worry, Alina," he finally spoke once across. Humor was still littered in his voice, a sound she found she very much liked. "Tante has had her fair share of…moments in the office. We'll try to get things better aligned." 

"Is that fancy corporate speak for you don't like her very much?" 

Even the layers of scarf could not hide her smile at his laugh. Strange how just five minutes ago she thought to crawl into her own skin to hide from his presence. She didn't even mind that he didn't answer, simply guiding her to a small door along a brick-lined building. The rusted sign proclaiming the tavern to be called The Cut. The oldest bar in Os Alta. 

Immediately she welcomed the warmth of the haggard place. Worn wood with scribbles of marker and neon signs surrounded by glass, steel, or shelving lined with alcohol she still felt uncomfortable trying to decipher their names. Suddenly, she felt homey. The low lighting cast a warm glow, even though the bar barely had more than ten people in it – slow on a Thursday afternoon. 

Reluctantly, she detangled herself from the scarf and coat, hanging them gingerly on her chair. A slide into her seat, held out for her by hands stronger than hers. Hands larger, ones that she could only glance at before shying away, lest her thoughts turned unsavory. 

“This is a nice place,” she said, smiling as the new bartender (a small girl with pigtails and a black t-shirt with the bar logo on the breast pocket) caught her eye. He opened his mouth, seemingly about to speak before the bartender approached. 

“Sasha, this isn’t your usual time,” the girl spoke, pulling two tumblers seemingly out of nowhere. 

“Zoya,” he shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “We decided to grab a drink.” The girl,  Zoya, turned to Alina with a roll of her eyes. 

“It’s like he’s never had manners in his life. I’m Zoya, you must be…”

“Alina.”

“Alina. Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Alina.” Did she imagine a glance at Aleksander?  A joke she wasn’t a part of? She swallowed, a tight smile in response. 

“Now, I know this boring man wants an old fashioned, what can I get you?” 

A small order for a simple vodka soda, handed with a speed Alina was sure would never have been achieved at the hotel. Sips in silence while she attempts to figure out just how often he came to this bar to be on a first-name basis with the bartender in the middle of the day. More than a first-name basis. She called him Sasha.

“So,” she sputtered, choking a bit on her drink before not-so-smoothly recovering. “I’m guessing you’re a regular?”  

“You could say that. I’ve been coming in and out for around twenty-five-ish years.” His eyes twinkled in the light of the bar as he watched hers widen. She wondered if the mental gymnastics she was doing were self-evident on her face, a blush creeping back up her neck as she attempts to school her features. Evidently failed by his chuckle. 

“I’m only forty-three, malyshka ,” he murmured. She nearly choked on her vodka, sipping the rest of the cup as she tried to feign polite surprise. It was evident now, the soft grays streaking at his temples. She cleared her throat, trying not to cough from the sudden warmth flooding her chest. She didn’t drink her vodka soda was that strong, but she guesses she could be wrong. 

“You’ve been coming here since you were…eighteen?” She questioned, startled at the silently placed refill in front of her. She picked it up, looking at him over her glass as she sipped. 

“I never said I was the best kid,” he responded, taking a sip of his own drink. 

“So you’re telling me you’re just a bad old man? Bad kids grow into bad adults.” His eyebrows raised, shock and amusement written over his features. Part of her was proud to render him speechless. The other, still sober part, took a second to register exactly what she said. That part suddenly became mortified. 

“I mean, not to say that you are bad, like just a ‘haha oh bad kid bad adult’. I didn’t mean that you I – um, I–”

“Relax, malyshka .” He interjected with a huff of laughter. “You’re not in trouble. Though I assume it depends on who you ask if I’m a bad man or not. I like to think I just go after what I want. Drinks included.” 

She swallowed, suddenly realizing the relaxed drape of his arm on the back of her chair. His knee, pressed softly against the side of her seat, not touching her but close enough to feel the heat. His eyes, dark and heady as he used his free hand to sip his drink, not wavering from her face. 

“What –” what if something gets in your way? “What does that word mean?” 

“ Malyshka? It means baby girl in Russian.” 

Blaming alcohol was probably no longer viable. The blush across her face, the heat in her chest. 

“Why ‘baby girl’? I can be an adult.”

“Yes, but I’m old enough to be your father, so you can see why I might be inclined to refer to you as a baby, no?”  

She stared, swallowing in her suddenly dry mouth. He seemed unaffected – as if this were a normal thing to say on a first outing with a subordinate. But she…

“I need to, um, go to the bathroom.” Standing to break whatever spell he’d cast on her seat. She followed his silent gesture to a hallway in the back of the bar, trying not to sprint away. 

The bathroom, graffitied and grimy, a small space with two stalls, was just big enough to catch her breath. She leaned over the sink, letting her breathing calm. The muted beating of the bar music flowed in, filling her head. She felt dizzy. She felt drunk . She swore they'd only been gone an hour. Maybe an hour and a half. But her stomach was in knots, twisting and coiling as her mind repeated I'm old enough to be your father. 

She knew what it was. The burgeoning of a crush, wholly inappropriate, likely to end in disaster if he ever knew. Not that she felt particularly stealthy thus far. He was just kind, reassuring, and funny. Just because he looked out for her for one afternoon meant nothing. It was nothing. 

She repeated her mantra. Nothing nothing nothing, as she splashed her face with water from the sink. She patted her face dry, trying not to smudge any of her eyeliner and shadows. The mirror, covered in stickers and soap scum, did little to convince her she wasn't a walking mess. She frowned, noting the tinsel in one of her reindeer drops from its pom pom nose. 

Get it together, Lina. It's just drinks with your boss . 

She sighed, exiting the room and back into the hall. Back to Aleksander. 

It was almost enough to make her smile, his relaxed posture at the bar. His cheeks had just the barest hint of a flush, mostly hidden by the dark hairs of his beard. Though he wasn't paying attention to her, a stranger leaning against the top spoke in a hushed tone. She watched for a moment, following the polite bored expression Aleksander wore as the man continued to speak. Until he leaned forward, offering his own words. Which caused Aleksander’s eyes to light up for a second, before the two broke into a small laugh. 

She wiped her hands against her skirt as she approached, ignoring the flip in her belly when her boss turned his attention to her. 

"Ah, Alina. This is Tolya, he used to work in your position." 

She extended her hand, a soft smile gracing her lips at the introduction. Before the man, Tolya, launched into a diatribe about how much better it was to be working independently with his sister. She tried to nod and follow along with the winding story, but soon she found herself on her third, then fourth, drink. Polite nods and “ hmm, how interesting ”s could only go so far. It was only a slight relief when Zoya came back, pulling Tolya from the conversation to the other end of the bar with excuses of needing input on a new event they were creating. 

It was Aleksander’s sigh of relief that broke her into a smile, a small giggle escaping her lips before she placed her own hand over her mouth. He smiled at her, and she felt like in one of her romcoms when the world would fall away as the two made eye contact. 

"Do you –"

"Do you –"

They both paused, a soft laugh escaping them. He gestured to her to continue, sipping the last of his drink. 

"I was just, ahem. I was just wondering if you'd want to start heading back," she whispered, suddenly aflush. "I mean, to escape the downtown traffic! I'm sure it's going to be a nightmare being right before the holiday and –"

"Shhh, Alina. It's fine, I was going to suggest the same." He stood, and suddenly he seemed so tall. Like a giant ready to pick her up. Was she biting her lip? Her feet felt foreign as she stood too quickly, attempting to match his pace. His hand was on her in a flash, steadying her at the elbow before righting her. 

She stood still, almost in a haze, as he slipped her coat back on her shoulders. She thanked the stars, her eyes only widened slightly as he wrapped the scarf back around her face, his smirk a dangerous thing in a blurry sea of color and sound. Her drinks weren't that strong, were they? 

She hardly remembered him ushering out the door, his two fingers raised in goodbye to Zoya. He must have a tab. Thoughts swam as they walked, her small stumbles prevented by his somehow steady presence. Soon, she was clutching his waist, giggling at words that surely meant something. Crosswalks faded until they arrived at the hotel, smooth steel and golden accents a familiar warmth. Though the area was much quieter, the throngs of coworkers were mostly gone. Few, however, were still in the bar area, nursing drinks that took far too long to arrive.  

"Are you sure you're okay to drive, malyshka? " Was his voice always so soothing? She leaned on his shoulder, eyes closing as she tried to get the world to stop being so spinny. 

"Hmmm," she hummed, breathing in the stronger version of his scent. Fresh from his exposed collar, perfect for her head. "Maybe I should sit down for a bit." 

"Nonsense, I have a room," his voice was a deep rumble in her ear. So close yet so far, was she floating? "Let's get you some water and lay you down, hm?" 

And didn't that sound nice? He'd take her upstairs, and she could lay on a soft mattress for a few minutes. She didn't quite remember voicing her agreement, just the feeling of his hands leading her to the hotel elevators. 

The room was nice. Far nicer than she would've, or could've, booked for herself. She tried not to stumble as he led her through the living room area. She giggled when she failed, clutching his shoulders. But he just smiled, holding her waist as he led her into the bedroom. 

Soft downy embraced her as she fell onto the bed, giggles escaping uncontrollably as she did. It was so nice . Felt so good. At first, she didn't notice his hands, soft against her tights, her calves. Until her shoes were being pulled from her feet, a soft hum when they fell off. That was so much better anyway. 

Another giggle burst from her lips when his thumb pressed into the arch of her foot. Soreness faded away, but his hands did not. Slowly climbing her legs, rubbing the sore muscles away. 

"Mmm, d-daddy that feeellls g-good," she sighed into the mattress, letting him work his fingers. 

"Daddy, huh?" Amusement filled his voice, hands digging into her thighs. She giggled again, it was so funny for some reason. Everything felt so light. 

"You s-said you were old enough to be my d-daddy, don't you wanna?" She mumbled, relishing the way his hands pressed into her.  

"Of course, malyshka . Daddy will make you feel real good." She didn't know what he meant, head fuzzy as he drew soft whimpers from her mouth. But she felt it. Hands climbing higher, under her skirt to her hips. 

"Mhm, wha–" 

"Shh, malyshka, let daddy work." 

She could only hum as she felt him tug at the band of her tights. Just a few before they were rolling down her legs, a soft tingling in their wake from the compression finally releasing. She felt him lift away her skirt, down down her legs it went. A soft shiver ran down her spine as the room's AC made contact with her bare ass. 

Had he taken her panties too? 

She went to move, to sit up, but she felt so heavy . And the bed was so soft. She could only lie there as he maneuvered her arms up, and suddenly she was bare to him. Her sweater was removed with quickness, her bra gone faster. She shivered, the room was so cold. She tried to turn her body, into the covers and warmth. 

“Daddy, don’t look” she cried, her hands flying up to cover her bare chest. 

“Why?” He muttered, leaning over her. He grabbed her wrist, pulling them away and up. She wondered briefly if his eyes had always been so dark. She bit her lip, squirming under the intensity of his gaze. “You look so pretty like this, like a kitten. Maybe I should call you kisa , hm?” 

And the room spun at his words. A whine escaped her lips as he leaned back, but her eyes widened as she watched him remove his own clothes. 

“See, we’re even now, kisa. ” Her lip almost bled, as he nudged her knees apart, exposing her cunt to his gaze. It was unreal, the sudden heat she felt as his cock falls between her legs. He angles her hips higher above his knees, his head rubbing deliciously against her clit. 

“So wet, I’ve barely even touched you,” he murmured. More to himself than her, but she still felt her cunt clench from the way he spoke. Breathless, ragged as he spread her wetness around her clit. Her hips squirmed against the sensation, soft whimpers flowing out of her with each pass. “I think you can take me just like this, can’t you?” 

“Uh-huh,” she attempted to nod her head. She could. She would.

The first notch of his cock into her caused her breath to rush out of her. It was unreal, the stretch from just his head as his thumb came to her clit in its stead.  A soft curse left his breath as he began to push. An inch, then out, then in deeper. He was carving a space for himself within her, her body yielding to his assault. 

“So tight for me,” he muttered, lost to the sensation. Before he pulled out just enough, before snapping his hips to hers, fully seated inside of her. She keens, high as her hands fly to grab his forearms.  Her nails dug into his skin as he began a slow rhythm, punishing her cunt with each thrust. 

Soon the stretch turned to something different, purer as she began to feel a coil deep inside her. She nearly cried when he fell forward, changing the angle and hitting just right . He was so heavy, a radiator against her skin as he moved, forcing her to just take take take. All she can do is moan and cry for him to never stop. 

“Daddy please, please,” she cried, trying to match his thrust with her hips. Until he leaned back just enough to look her in the eye, hips moving faster inside her. His eyes crazed, the sound of her sucking him in almost too much as she makes to grab at his face.

“What is it, malyshka? Tell daddy what you need, I’ll give it to you.” 

“A kiss daddy, please?” She didn’t care that she was whining. She’d stared at his lips for too long, all day. The past month, watching as he spoke down to those who did wrong, desperate for his words to infect her space. A cry broke from her mouth, swallowed by his as he bent to give her just what she asked. 

She almost didn’t realize that she was cumming, thought it was more that she was dying. His thumb pressed harshly against her clit as her body seized, clenching tightly around him. The kiss is broken then, his face buried into her neck as he whispers about her perfect her cunt was. How it was made for him, how good a little girl she was being. 

His stuttering hips were the only warning she received before he came, holding tight to her. The warmth flowed deep into her, and she hisses, hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. She wondered briefly if her IUD would work, so much of his cum inside of her it felt like it was inevitable. 

Their breaths mixed softly, slowly coming down. Her heart takes longer, beating nearly out of her chest as he laid on top of her, skin to skin. Her legs moved to trap him when he tried to pull out of her, not wanting to let the moment go. If it went, she’d have to sober up. She’d have to think about consequences, about what this meant. It’d change too much too fast, and she just needed it to stay this perfect for just a moment. 

So they didn’t move, and she fell asleep in the warmth of his arms. 

From: amorozov@shadowfoldinc.com

To: marketingdept@shadowfoldinc.com

Subject: Day off

Team, should your work be in a good position to wait until Monday, feel free to take this Friday off as well. I will be offline to enjoy the weekend around town with loved ones, I suggest you do the same. 

Aleksander.

[hazel-of-sodor]

WARNING: HAZEL HYPERFIXATION LORE DUMP AHEAD

In 1938 the C&HR was approached with an unusual and unexpected offer. An previously little known locomotive works had built a new mainline express engine, and needed somewhere to test it. If the C&HR agreed to host the tests, they would have the right to buy the prototype for cost, and any further ones for a steep discount. This offfer came at an opportune moment for the C&HR. While the stated specifications for the locomotive were in excess of their normal needs, the lines sole Class 10 pacfic was due for overhaul, leaving the railway down a Heavy Express Engine.

The C&HR had their lawyers look over the contract, and finding nothing amiss, signed it. The locomotive would be tested on Chester and Holyhead metals while the class 10 underwent her overhual. At the end of the Class 10′s overhaul the C&HR would report their findings and have the opertunity to buy the Locomotive if they wished.

The Engine, named 'The Great Dragon' arrived on the C&H in early 1939. She was massive, towering over even the Class 10, barely fitting within the C&HR’s loading gauge. She resembled the GWR’s Palace class rebuilds of the LNER A1(Swindon Gordon), but with a larger boiler and cylinders. The mix of Doncastor and Swindon practices made for a unique, but striking engine. She was looked over by May Traction Works, with entusiastic permision from her builders, who were able to spot and correct minor flaws in the design.  Entering testing in April 1939, she quickly proved a powerful and capable engine, if also a hungry one. For three months she was tested on the mainline, racing up and down with Expresses, mail trains, heavy freights, and anything else the C&HR could throw at her. Futher minor teething issues were identified and fixed, but the engine proved herself thoroughly as she effortlessly crushed any challenge set before her. For her power she proved efficent, but only the heaviest trains utalized her power in any meaningful way. Near the end of July, the Class 10 re-entered service from her overhaul, signaling the end of the tests for the Great Dragon. The C&HR reported favorably on the design, but lacked the workload to take advantage of such a beast. They began preparing the engine for the trip home...only to find the works had quietly filed for bankruptcy the month before. The debt collectors tried to claim the engine upon learning of its existence, only for the works former legal team to claim the C&HR now owned the engine The contract was re-examined, and a clause was found that stated in the event of bankruptcy, any works property on the C&HR would revert to their ownership. The C&HR had passed over the clause during their evaluation of the contract, as it possessed no negative effects for the railway. Despite the contract, the Debt collectors fought the works claim of C&HR ownership. The engine was 'grounded' at May Traction Works as the legal battle wore on, and the C&HR scrambled to find what to do with their potential new engine. when it was revealed the debtor collectorss planned to have the engine scrapped, the C&HR decided they would fight for their unexpected engine. The fate of 'The Great Dragon' would be suddenly decided in September, after having sat Forlorn in MTW for over a month. War was declared once again between Britain and Germany, and the C&HR needed every engine on deck. An hour had not passed from the declaration of war when May Traction Works received orders from the Chester and Holyhead,  The Dragon was to be steamed at once, and anyone who tried to stop it would be charged with interfering with the railway's war effort. Minutes later a message was received from the Debt Collectors, for the good of the war effort, they were 'donating' the engine to the Chester and Holyhead. She stormed from the MTW sheds with Sparks from slipping wheels as she charged for the mainline, and home. Upon arrival on the C&HR, she was given the number 16 hastily painted on her cab side, and then sent charging forth to handle the wartime freight. Throughout the war 16 would make a name for herself as the C&HR's most powerful locomotive, rocketing ammunition, metal, and coal across the lines. She would be run on LNER, LMS and GWR metals during the war, who all reported favorably on her performance. Following the war she would return to May Traction Works for overhaul. She would receive dual exhausts,  and would be primarily assigned to fish trains, and other heavy frieghts. While an unexpected and unplanned additon to the Fleet, she has more than earned her place in the years since her arrival. 

[triviareads]

ARC Review of Never Met a Duke Like You by Amalie Howard

Summary:

A historical romance inspired by Clueless; Vesper Lyndhurst is a popular society lady who is known for her matchmaking skills. Aspen, Duke of Greydon was her childhood friend, until he wasn't and he went abroad for several years. Now they're reunited after Aspen returns from his latest archeological dig in order to take his rightful place in society as a duke. He asks Vesper to help find a match for his ward Judith. And although his scheming mother would prefer that Judith and Aspen marry, it's Vesper he can't help being drawn to...

My review:

Here's what worked for me in this book: First, Vesper is a Hot Girl (in the grand tradition of Emma and Cher in Clueless; also, is there a Vesper Lynd connection in here somewhere?) which I do appreciate after reading one too many wallflower in historical romances. I also like the girl-gang vibes of her friend group the... "Hellfire Kitties". Vesper is ready to matchmake anyone and everyone (sometimes to suit her own ends), which is fun.

In addition, I'm always curious to see how HR authors include politics in their romances, and I think Amalie did a pretty good job here, especially by making the amending of the Lunatic Asylums Act so personal to Aspen because of what happened to his father (who was wrongfully institutionalized and abused in an asylum). There's also Vesper's pet cause, education for the poor by way of ragged schools, for which she volunteers and fundraises.

Regarding Vesper and Aspen's relationship— they had chemistry, though I felt it was a little hindered by the will-they-won't-they aspect. Like, it got to the point where they had sex and all but admitted their feelings for one another, but then two chapters later they're still denying that they're even friends. I thought it was interesting the author chose to make Aspen only two years older (rather than the 16 year difference between Emma and Mr. Knightley) and not related to Vesper in any way (unlike Josh and Cher in Clueless, who were ex-step-siblings). Instead, their childhood friendship was played up a lot; and then they became enemies (in the mildest sense) because of a childish misunderstanding compounded by teenage dramatics. So this puts Vesper and Aspen in a place where they know each other well (and her father is his mentor— there's reference to that scene in Clueless where Josh and Cher are helping Mel with documents), but dislike one another for pretty superficial reasons. It's this, along with Aspen's mother's scheming, that keeps them apart for most of the novel.

The sex:

The most interesting thing about the sex scenes in this one were probably the locations. There's a near-sex scene at the billiards table (exhibitionist kink unlocked for Vesper). The standout moment for me was probably when they have sex in the Crystal Palace (always a delight to read; Prince Albert would be so proud) and uh, Aspen's dinosaur obsession is fully realized. He might have even made Vesper a convert.

Overall:

I'd recommend this book for anyone looking for romcom vibes in their historical romances along with cute banter and a solid cast of characters who have their own compelling arcs so you know they'll be getting their own books in the future!

Thank you to Forever (Grand Central Publishing) and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my review.

[fuckinuhhh]

Take a Walk 06/30/2023

Welcome back to my daily walk diaries. Today we walked around between 5th ave and Park Ave because I was going to check out the Morgan Library & Museum (which if you live in NYC and you didn't know they have free friday's, they do). Anyways I was a little early for the entry time so I walked around and here were the buildings that caught my eye. If you want to listen to the music I was listening to while you read this, I made a playlist of it. Buckle in, this might be a long one.

Edit: As I was writing this entry I accidentally deleted ~1.5 hrs of work so Im going to keep this rewrite real brief. sry :/

The Robb House

Built 1892

Architect: Stanford White

Fellow Architect/architectural critic of the time Russel Sturgis (who I love) said of this building, "not a palace, but a fit dwelling house for a first-rate citizen."

Curious as to whether one of those medallions on the third floor was replaced since they're slightly different.

The Haviland Building/Lightolier Building/Morgan Lofts

Built 1912, unknown architect

The interesting split facades and bell tower are without a doubt what grabbed my eye.

Funny enough they also stood out on the back of the building when I took a trip around the block without even realizing they were the same building!

Next we have Tiffany & Co.'s second building, built after their previous cast-iron store at Union Square, and as a posthumous completion in honor of Tiffany founder, Charles Tiffany.

Built 1905

Architect: Stanford White! (yes again)

Just look at those Corinthian orders! This building is massive.

(Now is probably a good time to bring up my camera situation.) I've been shooting these on my iPhone 8 mainly because my only other camera is film, and because of it's convenience. However I may end up getting another camera so that my pictures don't come out with such poor quality. (I wish I remember how I worded this during the first take of this post, it was much better)

This is the CUNY Graduates Building, formerly known as its original identity the B. Altman department store. The past 3 buildings in fact were part of a push up 5th ave from Barclay's St downtown where Haviland's, Tiffany's, and Altman all had stores previously.

Built 1906

Architect: Trowbridge & Livingston

The back of the Altman building has this interesting moment where seemingly 3 portions of the building meet. I say 3 instead of the obvious division of the top addition only because if you look closely at the roof overhang on the left, it turns 90 degrees into the building before the 4th window in.

Regardless this transition between is artfully done both between the front and the back, as well as between the base and the upper addition in the reference but not direct copying of window/facade themes.

The Stewart Building

Built 1914

Architect: Whitney Warren

(Bonus picture of the proximity to the Empire State Building)

Right across the street from the Tiffany building lies this beautifully ornamented loft/department building with terracotta tiles said to resemble Josiah Wedgwood jasperware pottery.

Before we get to the Chrysler building this building caught my eye with it's geometric ornamentation on the facade of the building, which I assumed was to fit in amongst the foothills of such an icon in Art Deco Architecture (the Chrysler Building).

This is the Socony-Mobil Building

Built in 1956

Architect: Harrison & Abramovitz

The Icon in question, The Chrysler Building.

Built 1930

Architect: William Van Allen

There is a wealth of knowledge on the internet about this art deco beauty, but I'm just going to give you my brief takeaway.

First, that entry way!!! I'm in love, its so grand and those angles are so pleasing to look at. There is one on each side of the building facing the street and boy oh boy it does not lose it's charm the second time you see it.

I also wanted to point out that, um, the base of the building is not centered????? I had literally no idea prior to this but if you look, in the third picture there are three bays of windows to the right of the center and five bays to the left. No your eyes aren't tricking you that's really how it looks in person.

In the tune of imperfections to such a seemingly pristine design, the backwall isn't actually perpendicular to the road or to the rest of the building. It wanders off at some other angle as seen in the fourth picture.

I give it a 9/10 still, it's imperfections are even more reason to love it. They give it an organic beauty that art deco even tends to reference and emphasize, the beauty in natural forms.

Right around the corner of the Chrysler Building is Tudor City, and here are just some highlights. In the order of most difficult things to photograph, these buildings are all built up in a style I like to call the princess tower style with an elaborate penthouse on top. Here are some of the highlights of this group of blocks on the east side.

45 Tudor City Pl. (pics 1 & 2) aka Prospect Tower & St. Albans Church Built 1927, the worlds first residential housing skyscraper Architect: H. Douglas Ives

Around the corner (which regrettably is not pictured) is Harry Osborne's penthouse in the Spider-man movies at 5 Tudor City Pl. aka Windsor Tower

The Church of the Covenant (pic 3) Built 1871 Architect: J. Cleveland Cady

Woodstock Tower (pic 4) Built 1929 Architect: H. Douglas Ives

(pics 5-7) The Cloister & The Manor Built 1927 & 1928 Architect: H. Douglas Ives I think this is also an interesting marrying of facade courses.

[thistransient]

Heyyyy!! I just left Shanghai, moved to Lisbon, but I really am missing Shanghai. It's not a possibility to go back for me, sadly, but how is living in Taiwan? I'm guessing in terms of salary, cost of living, expat community, opportunity to do cool things/hobbies, and travel in and out of Taiwan.

I hope you don't mind if I answer this publicly and in great detail, finally my hour has come, someone wants my extended opinion on this subject! (As opposed to me going on about how I want to stay in Taiwan forever to my slightly baffled Asian classmates, or Taiwanese people dying to move to Europe). I will go down the list (if you want more info on anything let me know):

Salary: if I remember correctly you have a master's in education or TESOL(?) so if you got a job at one of the international schools in Taipei I think you'd be making very good money compared to the local salary. I've actually never worked for money in Taiwan, but as far as I know from friends/job ads, 補習班/cram school salaries start at 600NT/hr for entry level, around 800NT+ with experience, privates may be around 1000+? I am not sure at all about public schools, I've never met anyone working at one. English copy editors seem to do okay. Employers generally don't provide housing or flights like Korea or China.

Cost of living definitely depends on how you live, I had one classmate who was a doctor from Hong Kong renting an apartment in 大安區 near school for 40,000NT/month (outrageous), I live in a tiny 分組套房 in 士林區 for less than a quarter of that. It's gonna be hard to find a completely private living space (not a shared flat) for less than 10,000NT in Taipei, and it's very hard to find a studio with a kitchen. Outside of Taipei costs go down dramatically, I've heard tell you can rent a whole apartment with multiple rooms for 6000NT down south. People complain about inflation but the cost of living is really not bad compared to the US or Australia, if you eat local it can start at 50NT for the cheapest 便當/自助餐 (some people think 50NT 便當 is sketchy tho and a good one starts at 100), you can get "Italian" pasta for 140NT and up. A breakfast sandwich/蛋餅 and milk tea usually runs me 75-95 NT. A Taiwan Beer at 7-11 is around 35NT, drinks at bars are comparatively expensive though, mixed drink is probably minimum 150, if it's a fancy place 300. (I'll be honest I very rarely go to bars though, just too loud). Public transport is very good, a monthly metro pass in Taipei is 1280NT, gives you a discount on the city wide bike share too. Museums are surprisingly cheap, I don't think I've ever paid more than 80NT for a ticket (not counting National Palace Museum). I would say it's a very reasonable cost of living for what you can make as an English teacher.

Expat community, I'm not sure what your optimal situation is, in the short term, there are a lot of international students, and long term, white guys with Asian partners (of all genders) here for life. My one friend who teaches falls into the latter, my social life is kind of split between him and his friends & their better halves, other Mandarin students, and local queer people/language exchange friends. I find Taiwanese people on the whole to be quite friendly, I don't think it's an issue to socialize, especially if you already speak some Chinese (not to mention a lot of people speak decent English, and sometimes take it upon themselves to come up and try to help you if you stand around looking confused for long enough, or if they think you can't read a menu).

Cool things/hobbies/traveling: I'm a little biased because I love Chinese so I'm easily amused just reading the signs on the metro buuut… There's a lot of accessible hiking, bike trails, beaches, festivals, temples, night markets, museums, art spaces + classes, neat cafes, music venues…I have a list of things I intend to do and I never get through it. Definitely moreso in Taipei than elsewhere though. You can do anything with a scooter but traveling is very easy with just public transport, train and bus connections are great, you can use the Easycard on pretty much everything, people will happily pick up hitchhikers too. There are several small islands you can visit by ferry or plane, international connections are/were great (at least pre-pandemic there were cheap flights to all surrounding areas, I got a $28USD one-way ticket from Taoyuan to Cebu once).

In general, living in Taiwan is very convenient. I have never had such a smooth time at an immigration office. You can do a myriad of things at 7-11, get mail, pay bills, print and copy, buy train tickets, whatever else that Ibon machine does, etc. There is not even a fraction of the hassle of China and the 沒辦法 attitude over there. Of course white/western privilege does come into play, it's not a utopia for everyone, to my knowledge wages are kinda stagnant for locals, and some people move on from dead-end teaching jobs to opening a business (bar or something food related seems popular) once they get permanent residency.

The main downside is probably the weather. I have fond memories of a beautiful September day in Shanghai that I cannot picture ever manifesting in the subtropics. It's really unpleasantly hot in the summer, and in Taipei in the winter it's damp and cold but there's no indoor heating so everyone is bundled up in coats indoors while it rains and rains and you forget what the sun looked like and the laundry never dries (there are laundromats with dryers for the desperate times at least) and…I'll stop there. It even snows in the mountains sometimes! If you have a real grudge against earthquakes, cockroaches, rain, or scooters on sidewalks, I'd think twice. Otherwise Taiwan is definitely my favourite place I've lived in Asia so far, but keep in mind though that a) I'm obsessed with Mandarin and 繁體字 and b) I've only ever lived here as a student (and done workstay in a hostel), never had a proper job. I hope this helped! 過來吧！

[exdraghunt]

I saw the Live Action Little Mermaid last night, so it's time for a review. (tl;dr I thought it was really good) Spoilers ahoy (though really, if you've seen the original you know what's going to happen)

The new Little Mermaid movie hits the same story beats as the original, but it's longer run time (2 hr 15m vs 1 hr 20m) allows it to flesh out its story more and expand on the themes of the original.

I'll start off by saying the casting is great. Halle Bailey stands up easily to Jodi Benson (OG Ariel) in the voice department, and all the actors do a great job in their roles.

The most notable difference between the original and the remake is that Prince Eric gets significantly more screentime. This allows us to know his character much better. He is given a motivation that matches Ariel: both are feeling restricted by their conservative parents trying to squash their desire to explore new worlds. Where Aerial longs for the human world, Eric longs for the sea and other cultures. Eric even gets an "I Want" song (Wild Uncharted Waters). Eric's mother (the Queen) is similar to Triton: struggling to control their headstrong children, and I think that giving us this relationship benefits the film's themes.

The movie opens as the animated film does: with the crew of a sailing ship. However, instead of singing and partying, they are trying to harpoon a dolphin they mistake for a mermaid. In this version of the story, the merfolk and humans are in a kind of cold war. It is explicitly stated that Aerial's mother was killed by humans, thus King Triton hates all humans. While the humans blame the merfolk for the frequent shipwrecks around the island. This gives more weight to the reconciliation between people we will eventually get.

"Fathoms Below" is sung (yes, unlike a lot of Disney remakes, this version is still a musical). Then we go below to the world of the merfolk and a very CGI undersea world. (I do kind of wish the underwater scenes used some live-action footage, nature documentaries have proved its possible to get some spectacular footage of coral reefs). Atlantica, rather than being a gleaming golden palace, is covered in plant and animal life, which I think works better for an underwater world. Nothing would stay without barnacles and anemones for long, after all.

King Triton's adult daughters have gathered (each one is a different ethnicity and tail design. I'm not sure how mer genetics work in this movie), but Ariel, the youngest, is missing. She is, of course, exploring shipwrecks with her best friend Flounder. The World's Most Aggressive Shark attacks, and the two escape.

Scuttle appears (now a Gannet rather than a Seagull, and female rather than male, as she is voiced by Awkwafina) and gives the same incorrect advice as in the original.

Sebastian is assigned to watch over Ariel, and finds her in time for her to swim for the surface to watch Prince Eric's birthday party. Eric is, of course, kind and valiant and expresses his desire to explore rather than stay at home and be a boring King. Ariel is smitten instantly, and rescues him from the shipwreck that follows.

Ursula appears on and off in the opening scenes, watching over Ariel and helpfully monologuing her plans to remind us that yes, she is evil, and yes, she is the Bad Guy. (She is also apparently King Triton's sister. I really don't know how merfolk genetics work in this movie). It's a little heavy handed, but this is a family/kids movie. Melissa McCarthy (Ursula) seems to savor every moment she's on screen, which makes her fun to watch. The animation on Ursula's tentacles is also spectacular.

Sebastian sings a wonderful rendition of "Under the Sea" with some gorgeous visuals to convince Ariel to stay (though I question some of the ocean creatures used. Manatees? in the open ocean?)

We get the confrontation where King Triton destroys Ariel's treasure trove, pushing her straight into the arms of Ursula. We get "Poor Unfortunate Souls" (though without the iconic "Body Language!" line, sad to say). Though this time, Ariel gives up her voice as part of giving up her "mermaid gifts" as opposed to it being a form of payment. I think this is a weaker change (having to offer some sort of payment for a magical change makes more sense than it being an arbitrary thing that must go). Ariel is also given some selective amnesia, making her forget that she must get a kiss within three days (explaining why she's a bit of a ditz and doesn't seem to be trying all that hard to get that kiss).

The movie really uses its longer run time to flesh out Ariel's time in the human world. Her time with Prince Eric feels real and genuine. They share a fascination with the world and exploring it. Them pouring over maps in the study, laughing in the market, and dancing with the villagers feels genuine and makes me believe in their relationship more. The film also cuts out Sebastian's misadventures in the kingdom (including his little battle with Chef Louie) which I think is fine. The movie is, after all, about Ariel.

Ariel also gets a new song here (which is a little odd, considering she has no voice, but its made clear the song is her internal dialogue. Also it gives Halle Bailey more time to shine). "For the First Time" lets us see Ariel enjoying all the new discoveries of the human world.

We get a lovely "Kiss the Girl" sequence in the lagoon, followed by them sneaking back into the castle and giggling as they avoid Eric's mother. (also Grimsby is a gem in this, an onboard Eric/Ariel shipper)

Ursula dons her Vanessa disguise and bewitches Eric, but unlike the animated film, they never get quite as far as the actual wedding. During the reception Scuttle attacks (just Scuttle, she doesn't summon all the ocean creatures. It's a fine change). Then, Ariel gets to pounce on Vanessa/Ursula and snatch her voice back. It's nice to see Ariel get more agency.

A similar change happens in the big Climatic Final Battle, where instead of damsel-in-distress Ariel getting saved by Eric, it's the other way around. Ariel steers the ship into Ursula, saving Eric's life. Again, it's nice to see Ariel having more agency and taking matters into her own hands.

We, of course, get a happily ever after. But now, Ariel and Eric are headed out to explore the sea, meet new people, and find uncharted waters. Both King Triton and the Queen have learned to let their children go to be happy.

Now, were there some things I didn't like in this movie? A few, but most of it can be handwaved by this movie being a fantasy. For example: where the hell is Eric's kingdom? It's tropical (there's palm trees and rainforest) and on an island. It's apparently not part of Europe (Eric mentions trading with Europe), but features a very European palace. And all the villagers have Jamaican accents (is that where Sebastian gets it?). Ultimately it doesn't matter, it's just kind of weird.

The horse drawing their carriage also just apparently stays put whenever Eric and Ariel run off to have fun. What a good horse.

Scuttle also gets a song number, which is a rap shared with Daveed Diggs (Sebastian). It's apparently very divisive, but I thought it was fine and cute.

In the end, I think that this movie works well. It builds upon the themes of the original, expanding the world and fleshing out the characters. It doesn't feel bloated with extra scenes, the longer run time works to its advantage in giving us more time exploring our characters and their motivations. I like seeing more of Prince Eric's personality, and more of Ariel's fascination with the human world. (A common complaint lobbed at the original is that Ariel gives up her agency for love, but in both versions of the film, it is her father's overbearing possessiveness and destruction of her things that drives her to the Sea Witch. Ariel loves humans, not just Prince Eric)

A sequel or two has been suggested, and I am cautiously optimistic. If you're a fan of the original, I recommend the remake.