#fae henry thoughts

[f10werfae]

Daddy’s babies

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry x shy!mom!reader

summary: Daddy!Henry takes his babies to Disneyland and engages in some soft kissy sex with his baby bun (Dilf!Henry) (softdom!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+

Lumberjack Masterlist, Henry Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“P-please daddy, we want to g-go, don’t we lovebugs?” Y/n cooed sitting on the floor of their living, her baby girl Iris nursing soundly on her breast, the soft suckling sounds and baby gurgles filling the room. Henry sitting behind her, his fingers playing with the loose straps of her vest, peeking over at the sight of his baby princess so close to her momma, his baby boy Beau sat on his boppy across from them; clearly milk drunk from his feeding.

Y/n had spent the past few days begging and begging her husband for a trip to Disneyworld, wanting nothing more than to take hundreds of pictures of her tiny tots in their costumes, buying them all sorts of souvenirs and of course the family costumes. Henry would be lying if he said his attention was fully on her words right now, all he could think of was how huge her breasts had grown these past few months from breastfeeding. God almighty it took him an arm and a leg to keep from squeezing them like a stress ball, even being caught by Y/n herself.

“Sugar butt, they won’t even remember goin’ there, Beau over there doesn’t even remember who I am half the time” Henry chuckled looking to meet his wife’s eyes as she huffed and scooted out of his hold, shuffling over to her baby boy who was near enough asleep after being burped. “F-fine then, you don’t care about us” She whimpered giving him those big doe eyes of hers, even turning around her baby Iris, who she had now given a pacifier to. Her cute little mouth bopping up and down as she suckled on the Disney themed dummy, her big eyes she got from her momma staring right at her daddy. Henry swore his heart clenched right when he saw his baby princess looking at him.

“Y’all n’ your damn eyes, fine”

“H-hen look at the baby c-cots they’re old west themed!” Y/n giggled holding baby Iris to her hip whilst Henry carried Beau on his, sliding in the suitcases with his free arm. “Is it everythin’ ya wanted sugar cube?” He hummed finally locking the hotel room, his arm coming around her waist to bring his daughter and wife closer to his warm broad chest.

“W-we love it, it’s so cute and reminds me of our house” Y/n smiled tilting her head up to press a small wet kiss onto her man’s lips, both babies also reaching for each other cutely, they were absolutely inseparable so thankfully the cots were right by each other. Seeing both of their eyes start to lid, their small voices cooing tiredly, it only seemed right that they put their tots down for the night after a long day of driving and gas stops.

“C’mon over ‘ere momma, ya need your sleep n’ so does daddy” Henry whispered tugging on his wife’s belt loop, pulling her against his chest as they looked over their beautiful miracle gems. “Missed you today ya know” Inhaling her soft fresh scent deeply, he slowly waddled them both towards their huge king size saloon themed bed. “Y-you were with me the w-whole day though” Y/n laughed as Henry softly set her on the sheets, already tugging off her denim flares and black polo crop top. His smile widening as he saw all the new stretch marks she had gained, evidence she had carried their family, their baby gems; a proof of their love.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, didn’t have your sweet pussy wrapped around my cock or anythin”

“A-and you still can’t, t-this is a family friendly zone” Y/n scolded shimmying herself up the bed only for her to be dragged down by Henry’s hand on her ankles, her puffy pussy coincidentally coming face to face with his eager lips. “We can worry about the family friendliness tomorrow, right now it’s me n’ my gorgeous wife. Think she misses my kissies no? As long as you’re quite n’ don’t wake up the monsters then it’s okay bun”

Slowly peppering small onto her second set of lips, his tongue coaxed through her folds to taste her sweet self; baby bun’s little gasps and stifled moans reverberating through their bodies. “M’already close H-hen, kissy t-too good” Y/n whined knowing how sensitive she was, both emotionally and physically after the journey of a pregnancy she had. “I know you are sweet pea, go on, give your man his treasure”

Within seconds her body was writhing in his hold, her hand over her mouth to make sure she wasn’t being too loud, Henry’s hands clamped around her waist as he slurped up all of her juices. “Y-your turn?” She breathed out sitting up on her elbows, “No baby bun, we can do that another time, time for you to get some sleep” He smiled crawling up on her to kiss her lips softly, with a twinge of tongue just to hear her hum in pleasure.

“You sure?”

“Hundred, now turn over n’ let me spoon my sugar cube”

Both of them now nude under the covers, Henry’s hands skimmed up over her sides and curves, moving up to cup her breasts strongly; hoping to teasingly coax some of her milk out but he knew she’d have been emptied out just from the twins on the road trip. “You did so good today momma, took care of our gems so well you know that? My precious baby bun such a good woman, my woman”

“I L-love you so much H-henry, you’re such a good daddy to t-the babies”

“I love you too Y/n, swear my life on it”

Throughout the night Henry slowly and gently humped his hardened cock against his sleepy wife, hearing her whine and groan until he finally released all over her bare ass, letting her shift back against him before finally drifting off for the rest of the night.

“a-aren’t you two just f-freaking adorable, m-my little chip a-and lumiere” With the two tots propped up on some pillows, in their chip and lumiere costumes from beauty and the beast, Y/n in her pretty yellow dress as Belle and Henry in a blue suit as the beast. The perfect fairytale family in Henry’s words.

“H-Henry get in beside them, now please” Picking up each 8 month old onto each knee, Henry smiled with his canine smile into the phone, both babies showing their gummy smiles in their tiny costumes like the absolute cuties they were. The perfect mix of Henry and his Y/n. “Ok now go put it on a timer n’ get in here sugar butt”

“mhm comin’” Setting up her phone against the table she ran over and perched herself behind Henry, her arms coming around his neck from behind, her red painted lips planted onto his cheek. “Should we get ‘em into the pram and get goin to fantasyland? Get you your well needed pictures n’ souvenirs” Nodding excitedly they strapped both twins into the two seater pram, their costumes thankfully suited to the hot summer weather, with Henry pushing the pram protectively as Y/n linked her arms with his.

“I-isn’t it just magical? Oh wait! We need to g-get them pictures w-with Mickey Hen” Redirecting the stroller to the queue for Mickey, the couple stood in line in each other’s arms, “you alright ma? You look absolutely gorgeous” Swaying their bodies side to side, Henry felt her giggle and laugh against him, twisting her head to the side to press a sweet kiss to his neck. “Y-you’re only sayin’ that cause i-im dressed like Belle”

“Nah no way, I prefer you naked than in a dress and ya know that baby bun” Chuckling they finally moved to the picture spot, with Iris in Y/n’s arms and Beau in Henry’s, each twin cooing happily with their sun hats on with the white sunscreen making their face look painted.

“Baby bun, I- I have a proposition, you can say no if you want but”

“b-but what?” Y/n asked tilting her bead to the side like a happy little puppy, taking off her costume after the long day, Iris and Beau already tucked into their sleep snuggies and in their respective wooden bassinets.

“This is out of the blue, but my uh my mother’s here, she’s seen somethin’ about us bein’ here and she wants to meet Iris and Beau. Well- actually take them off our hands for a few hours to give us some time”

“W-what like now? I-i’ve only met her a few times a-and that was before I was pregnant”

“I know that’s why I wanted to ask you first, we’re a team baby bun, you say no then thats fine, you tell me what you want sugar” Nuzzling his head against hers he felt her exhale before raising her head, that same soft kind look in her eyes.

“I grew up a-always loving my grandparents, I-i’d hate to rob I-Iris and Beau of that. Your m-mother’s lovely, I-I just wish we saw her more often so she k-knew them more” Y/n explained nodding her head with each word, showing that she completely trusted Henry’s mother, she knew how attentive she was with her other grandchildren and she didn’t doubt her for a second with Iris and Beau. Although this would also mean this would be the first time she would be away from her babies for more than an hour, already feeling the dreaded mother’s guilt.

With it already being 5PM and time for dinner a rhythmic knock sounded throughout the room, the newly awoken babies’ eyes curiously looking around the room, their hands wandering in the air frantically. “It’s her sugar, you ready for me to open the door?” Nodding Y/n stood up, wiping her sweaty palms onto her skirt, watching on as Henry’s mother gleefully walked into the room. A pair of purple mickey ears on her head as she instantly reached for Y/n, bringing her in for a hug and an affectionate kiss to the cheek.

“My beautiful daughter in law, you’ve only gotten more beautiful, how I wonder how my son met got you” Henry scoffed muttering a ‘thanks mom’ watching his mother then turn her attention to the two cuties surrounded by pillows on the bed, the both of them looking at her happily almost as if they could feel the love radiating off their grandmother.

“Oh my word, is this my little ittle Iris and Beau, my two precious grandbabies, they are the carbon copy of you Y/n, thank God nothin' like Henry. With that scowl always on his face" Marianne whispered tickling their little stomachs, quickly taking out the mini mickey ears she had gotten just for them, a pink and blue sequinned set.

“Aww t-thank you, t-though I’m thankful they g-got the cleft chin from H-henry” Y/n laughed seeing Henry pick up Beau and Iris, letting her have her fair share of snuggles of each baby Cavill, the newest additions so far to the family. “Ma are ya sure you’re able to handle these two little monsters, they can be quite a handful but we’ve already packed everythin’ ya need in this baby bag” Buckling them into their stroller, Henry tucked the baby bag into the underneath of the stroller, his mother excitedly clapping and exclaiming how excited she was to spend the next few dinner hours with her grandchildren.

“Henry boy, av’ raised 5 boys I think I can handle two more angels, especially if they’re like Y/n”

“Well most of the time they are, curious little things really, but deprive ‘em of the booby milk and it gets scary” Henry laughed as Y/n scolded him, hugging his mother one last time as she brought the babies to her hotel room, deciding the easiest option was to order in room service since all they had was simple baby foods and milk.

Meanwhile Y/n had a new feeling in her stomach, a feeling of guilt for simply letting her “newborn” babies go despite them edging the ninth month. Her goosebumps wouldn’t let down, her legs shaking as Henry shuffled around the room to prepare a hot warm bath for them both, a well deserved one at that. “Baby bun ya ready to come in n’ join me?” Henry called in from the tall ceiling bathroom, waiting eagerly to watch his nude wife in all her glory.

“a-am coming now” She called seeing her husband engulfed in a multitude of purple and pink bath bubbled, his hand outstretched to help her into the tub. His hand tightly wrapped around her wrist as she sat between his legs, the water sloshing once she sat back against his snug wide chest. “What’s goin up in that pretty mind o’ yours beautiful, you look busied”

“D-Do you think i-it’s bad that I let t-the babies go w-with your mom so easily? I f-feel guilty for being away from them for so l-long”

“what? Is that what you’ve been tinkerin’ about? You’re the best wife n’ mother on the goddamn planet, the way you pour your love and affection into everythin’ you do, no one could ask anything more from you. You’re absolutely perfect baby bun, my little sugar cube is the best” Henry whispered against her ear, his voice growling towards the end as his lips attached to her neck and shoulders, kissing it passionately while her head rolled back onto his shoulder. His strong burly arms wrapped around her midsection, one of his hands sneaking up to circle her nipples with his finger, eyes staring as he watched them harden.

“Y-you really think so?” Bun replied looking up at him, her doubting thoughts quickly dissolving once he pecked her nose adorably, each of her breasts in one of his hands. “I know so, now sit your pretty little self back n’ let daddy take care of everythin’ alright momma?”

Settling herself back comfortably basking in his radiating body heat, his hands reaching under the water to touch her sensitive clit, his soft hoarse voice hushing her anytime she let out anything louder than a squeal.

“This ok baby?”

“mhm f-feels so freakin’ good” Henry’s lips stayed pressed to her temple as his palm rubbed on her clit, his ring and middle finger already teasing her hole with soft pillowy thrusts, just enough for her hips to thrust themselves upwards clearly wanting more. “I can feel you gettin’ close bunbun, ya wanna finish here or in the bedroom, or both?”

“B-both?”

That was all the confirmation Henry needed for his fingers to thrust his fingers in frantically, her sensitive nub consistently making contact with his palm to bring her to finish, his other free hand that was holding her up was now holding her jaw to turn her head towards him. His lips pursing onto hers, to suck her tongue into his mouth, tasting her cherry lipstick. “God I love kissin these lips of yours, so beautiful n’ sexy”

Not even letting her reply as her orgasm washed over her, his finger repeatedly fucking her entrance while his other hand now reached down to rub her clit like a feral beast, her body shaking crazily as she rode out her high. “Aww my pretty sugar butt, you always get me so fuckin’ hard whenever you look at me like that”

His thumb brushed under her lips, her eyes looking dazed and happy as she happily nuzzled back up straight to sit closer to him.

“This okay? Or do you want it tied up as well?” Turning off the hairdryer, Henry continued to softly brush through bun’s hair as best as possible, trying to alleviate her head of worries about their babies (even though his mother just sent them a picture of them suckling on their pre-made bottles)

“I-I want it in-in a braid” Nodding Henry got the strands of hair ready, looking at her lovingly through the mirror, her eyes closed peacefully with her wearing nothing but one of his white vests. Taking his time to get the braid perfect he tied it off with a little tie and carried her up to the top of the bed, pulling back the covers to help her get settled in before he slid in beside her.

This would be their first night without the babies’ interruption.

“You wanna jus’ go to bed sugar? or-“

“No. I-I want this” Confidently she reached down and started stroking his hardened cock which was already laying against her thighs, biting her lip she shuffled forward to hook one arm around his neck as he took some of his precum and used it to lube up her pussy, small gasps leaving her at the erotic act. None of them speaking any words but the amount of love and passion in their eyes was obvious, her tits popping out from the sides of his vest as it was clearly ten sizes too big.

“Just gonna take it slow with you sweetpea, make love with ya until my pretty sugar falls asleep”

With her arms now wrapped around his torso, her head directly above his heart, Henry slipped in his cock into her warm wet pussy, both of them gasping out at the amazing sensation. “So soft n’ warm” He whispered kissing her pouty lips passionately, their tongues meeting in a wet kiss as both their hips rolled against each other. Henry’s hand lifted up her thigh to place it over his waist, his fingers tracing over the stretch marks now littering her thighs and lower stomach, even her breasts. Henry couldn’t even put into words just how much it made her look like an absolute Goddess that gave him his two precious miracles.

“D-don’t touch ‘em”

“Why not bun? They’re proof of the amazing journey you took for our family, and they look so fuckin’ sexy” Henry rebutted shutting her up with a sharp thrust which sent her mewling back into his chest, her palms flat on his back as his slow rhythmic thrusts helped her reach her orgasm quicker, each throw of his hips hitting another angle of her G-spot.

“S-sleepy Henry”

“You take all the rest you need baby, take what you need my pretty girl” He whispered pecking her lips thrice more, his hips still softly rolling against hers even after they had finished, the wet sloshy sounds of their juices filling the room as Y/n found herself falling asleep with her husband’s cock inside of her.

———

PSA: Lumberjack!Henry is back!! Meet his lovely momma who raised this beast, although he definitely got his possessive attitude from his dad who we are yet to meet, and his brothers. Hope you guys enjoy this Disneyland snippet 🫶

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist: @helenaellie @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @thoughtsofreid @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @buckybarnessweetheart @sweetybuzz25 @k3ira13 @shecamedowninabubble @ridingthehotmessexpress @animez96 @angelic-dreams13 @squishyturtle @keenduckfury @mxnnana-blog @namjoons-t1ddied @frittelligliegia @realm-of-azrael @lina505 @marvelloki23 @livesinfantasyland @slut4henrycavill @luxeydior

See you guys at the next update, lots of love 🫶🫶

[writerfae]

Like a week after the the story:

Everyone sitting around having tea. It's a calm morning

Suddenly Aiden slams down his cup

Everyone:...

Talon: umm... you okay?

Aiden pointig to Callan: Is this why?

Everyone:....

Aiden: Is this why the story with the prince and the hunter was your favorite from the very beginning?!

Henry resumes sipping tea really quickly

-

Sometimes I wonder how Aiden never noticed Henry sneaking away to meet with Callan, then I remember... it's Aiden

This situation would greatly amuse Callan xD he’d be like “Well, dear, is it?” (It is. Or one reason at least)

Henry spent a lot of time in the woods anyway, whether it was to hunt or collect berries or just clear his head and Aiden knew that, so he really didn’t get suspicious when Henry went out for a few hours.

Also the possibility of his big brother having a lover never occurred to Aiden even once, in his mind Henry always was bitchless too busy for a relationship or simply not interested in one

[karouvas]

there are definitely way more but I thought limiting to ten was a good idea.

[gurugirl]

Relax | bfd!harry

best friend's dad harry x reader

Summary: Fae asks you something that you aren't prepared to answer. You and Harry discuss what to do next.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, lying, cheating, age gap, angst

Best Friend's Dad!Harry Masterlist

“It’s like pulling teeth to get any info from you about this mystery man. You can’t even tell me what his name is?” Fae was sitting across from you at the little café you both loved. You had a coffee and bagel and she was drinking her matcha. You hated the conversation. Hated that she was so observant. Hated lying to her.

“I just don’t think it’s worth mentioning. It’s… not serious.” That was especially hard to say. Because it was serious. You were in love and Harry was already making plans to talk to his wife. You were both so serious, in fact, you were willing to sabotage your relationship with Fae. Harry knew it wouldn’t go over well but he didn’t want to not be with you. And it was the same for you. Even if Fae was mad at you and never talked to you again, you couldn’t see yourself ending it with Harry just to keep your relationship with Fae.

At the beginning, of course, that was always the plan. That what you and Harry were doing was short term and Fae was more important to you than he was. You’d end your little thing with Harry and both go your separate ways to never speak of the bad thing you’d done together. No one would be the wiser.

Except it never stopped. You never ended it and Harry wanted more of you. But when he told you he’d fallen in love with you and admitted to not wanting to touch his wife again…

“Tell me his name. Come on. I need to know how to address this rich mystery man. You’ve been seeing him for a while too. And I know you’re more serious about him than you’re letting on.”

You sighed and looked your friend in the eye and made up a name, “Henry.” God, you were the worst liar. Couldn’t even come up with a name that wasn’t similar to Harry’s.

Fae squinted at you and sipped her matcha. She kept her eyes on you as she placed the mug down and nodded, “Henry. Interesting.” She sighed and closed her eyes and then looked back at you, “I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me. I… some information has come to light and… I hate to accuse you but you are being shady about all this kind of and…”

You swallowed thickly as you listened to Fae bumble about what she needed to ask you. You felt your heart pounding in your chest and braced yourself for the direct hit.

“He’s older? Right? Like… your dad’s age.”

You blinked and tried to steady your hands around your mug as you nodded.

“Okay. And he’s married?”

You let out a breath and pinched your brows together, “What? Why would you say that?”

“His name’s not actually Henry is it?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…

You thought you might pass out. You thought you might fall to the floor and crack your head open and that would be a good thing. To avoid this question. You knew what was coming next. This wasn’t good and you were cornered. You wouldn’t be able to lie to her anymore if she called you out for seeing her dad. Which you knew was just about to happen.

“Fae! Y/n! Hey, it’s crazy to see you two here!” Saved by the fucking bell. The bell being an old friend you and Fae used to hang out with. Beverly. She had moved away a few years ago.

She pulled up a seat and sat down with you as Fae gave you a look that told you the conversation wasn’t over. She was going to extract the information from you sooner or later. But you knew that would happen anyway. You and Harry were gearing up to tell everyone. You just hadn’t imagined it being this way.

Beverly started talking about herself, what she’d been up to. You were not all there and could barely pay any attention to her words as you kept glancing at Fae and trying to think of an excuse to get out of there so you could dodge Fae’s interrogation.

You made small talk quickly and then stood up, “I… uh… I have to go. I’ll call you Beverly! We can catch up soon. And I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You looked at Fae as you spoke the question.

You left your half-eaten bagel and rushed to your car. You tried to make it look as if you were calm and normal but you knew Fae had seen the tremble in your hands and it was very unlike you to get up and leave mid-conversation. Especially when she knew you had nowhere to be.

You called Harry and left a voicemail. He was at the office that day and you knew he’d be busy. He had a bunch of things for a work meeting with some investors that were visiting so you didn’t expect to hear from him right away. And you didn’t. In fact, it wasn’t until his day was over at work that he finally called you back.

You were in a bit of a panic when you answered his call. Because you’d been ignoring Fae’s calls and texts all afternoon. You felt awful. Felt like you were going to spiral and have a panic attack but Harry’s voice on the line gave you some solace.

He sounded calm. Which helped you feel more at ease, “Have you heard from Fae? Or your wife?”

“No. I mean…” he paused, “Fae called me and left a voicemail but I haven’t listened to it yet. Why?”

You sighed and told Harry about your morning with Fae and the kind of questions she asked you.

“And she’s been calling and texting ever since and I’ve been ignoring her because I think she knows, Harry. I don’t know how but she did say some information had come to light and I don’t know what that means but–“

“Baby. Breathe. Calm down. I’m coming over okay?”

“No! She might see your car here and what if she stops by? She knows something! She’s onto–“

“Y/n. I need you to calm down, baby. I am coming over. If she stops by then she stops by. We can handle this. It’s going to be okay.”

You paced and kept looking out your window to look for Harry. Or even Fae. You weren’t sure if she worked that night or not but you wouldn’t put it past her to show up unannounced.

Harry’s knock on your door startled you. You were in your kitchen trying to distract yourself when you heard the knocking. You looked out your peephole first just to make sure it was him and quickly let him inside.

He had a serious look on his face as he sat his briefcase down and pulled you to your couch to sit with him. You knew he found something out. And now you were reeling with nerves.

You sat on the cushion but Harry pulled at you, “On my lap,” murmuring his words as you were brought to his thighs and sat over them. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead, “Fae does seem to know something. I listened to her voicemail. Someone saw us together. A friend of her mom and mine.”

“Wait. So… She knows? Like for sure?”

Harry sighed, “Maybe not for sure. But the description of the man, which is obviously me, matches and they saw my car too.”

“And… your wife? So she…”

Harry nodded and thumbed over your jaw softly, “I think so. She’s the one who found out and told Fae. As far as I know. Haven’t spoken to either of them. I can’t think of who would have seen us.”

Suddenly you recalled the week prior when Harry dropped you off and picked you up from work, “My boss. Caressa Fiedler. Does that name sound familiar to you?”

“Yeah. Okay. That makes sense. She must have called my wife. Maybe… told her she saw me.”

You sighed and rubbed your hands up Harry’s arms, “She did see us. She asked if you were my boyfriend but she said you must not be the person she was thinking of because you’re married. So I thought she would just drop it.” You put your hands over your face and groaned, “I’m so stupid. Should have known she wasn’t going to just let it go. That she would figure it out.”

“Hey…” Harry peeled your hands off of your face and wrapped his hands around them, “You’re not stupid. We didn’t expect any of this. But it’s okay. We’ll be okay.”

Harry was soft and patient with you for the rest of the night. He made dinner and kept you close. Kept reassuring you that you two would be okay and it would be worth it all in the end.

And it was the first time that you’d slept in a bed with him that you didn’t have sex. Harry held you close and kissed you but the comfort of his arms around you was all you needed. And it seemed to be all he needed as well. You could tell he was trying to be strong but he was upset too. He was nervous. Your little bubble was about to burst and things were about to get very difficult. But there was no reversing it. Even if you and Harry did break up and stay away it was too late. The damage was done now.

Fae didn’t stop by that night. You kept imagining her banging at your door and telling you both to open up. You imagined her seeing Harry’s car out front and knowing what was going on immediately. Knowing 100% that you and her dad were doing something very wrong and very stupid.

You woke up early the following morning to Harry’s phone chiming with a message. Three in a row. He kissed you and yawned as he rolled over to pick up his phone and sat up. You watched his face as he read the texts and he frowned before looking at you.

“I don’t want you to worry, baby. Okay? They don’t know for sure yet so we can still control the narrative but we need to figure out when to do this. And I mean,” he swallowed and sat his phone down, “It’s gonna be soon. Because that was my wife. She wants to talk.”

You sat up and set your gaze on the painting you had framed above your dresser, “You think she wants to talk about this?”

Harry took your hand in his, “Yeah. She said she talked to Caressa in her text and mentioned that Caressa is your boss. So… she’s letting me know that she knows something. Or she’s assuming she knows something.”

“Already…” you whispered the word as you looked down at your lap in shock. It felt like you’d just begun your tryst with Mr. Styles. But it had been months. Almost six. And you loved all six of those months with him so much that you were about to hurt your best friend and disappoint so many important people in your life because it was going to be worth it. You hoped. It had to be.

Harry pulled you into his side, wrapping his arm around you and leaning back into your headboard, “I love you, Y/n. Whatever you want to do is what we’ll do. Okay? If you want to do it today, or tomorrow, or next week… doesn’t matter. You tell me when you’re ready.”

You turned your face to press into his arm and whined as you spoke, “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Let’s just go away,” you looked up at him, “Like… a little getaway first. Just us. So we can clear our heads and decide the best way to do this and… then we tell them.”

Harry nodded and soothingly smoothed his hand up and down your back, “Sure, baby. If that’s what you want. How about tomorrow afternoon? Can you take the weekend off?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I have Sunday off already. And tomorrow. So I could just call in on Saturday.”

“Then let’s do that. We’ll leave tomorrow. Go out of town. Just me and you.”

You had to work a full shift knowing Caressa had said something to Harry’s wife about you and her husband. But you were curious to know if Caressa learned that the man you were with was indeed who she thought it was. It was possible it was all just speculation. You were certain Caressa hadn’t gotten a good look at Harry. And she didn’t seem all that sure when she asked you about it.

You continued to ignore Fae’s texts and calls but you didn’t know what else to do. Things were getting very complicated. As if they hadn’t been before. But now your silence was probably a dead giveaway to Fae about what was going on.

You packed a bag and weren’t sure what you needed for your little getaway. Harry said he’d take care of the trip details because he didn’t want you stressing or worrying about anything.

He picked you up at your apartment after you got off your shift. The plan was that you would stay at his house. Your car would stay at your apartment and then the next day, Friday, you and Harry would be off on your little getaway and return Sunday evening.

“You’re all wound up, Y/n.” Harry rubbed your shoulders when you two got to his house. He sat you down in a kitchen chair and began to massage your neck gently, “What can I do for you to make you relax a little?”

You shook your head, “Nothing probably. I’m trying to keep myself sane. Just… happy to be going away with you.”

You learned that Harry was taking you to Quebec for the weekend. A nonstop flight would have you there in only a few hours and you two could walk through the pretty city hand in hand and no one would ever know you were with a married man. A man who was not married to you. No one would even care probably. You knew no one in Quebec. It sounded quite ideal actually. A stroll through Old Quebec, romantic dinner, a cozy little hotel room with a big bed, a few bars, and maybe some shopping. You could finally act like a regular couple before it all blew up in your face.

Harry leaned down and kissed the space on your neck below your ear, “I can think of at least one thing that might help you relax a bit. Could help distract you. Relieve some of this tension,” he squeezed your shoulders softly and then slid his hands to the front of your neck and tilted your head back so he could kiss your mouth.

And you found yourself in his big bed before you could even think about what was happening. He took his time with your body. Removing your clothes piece by piece and kissing your soft skin.

“Just lie here, baby. Let me take care of you.” He whispered against your breasts and nosed at your plush skin as he made his way down your body. You could feel his warm skin, his eyelashes, the scruff on his face, his moist lips, and his tongue. His hands.

You were under him completely bare of clothes, while he was still fully dressed. You tried relaxing and letting go. Tried to just let him take over your body and do all those magical things he knew how.

“Still tense, my love,” he looked up at you and ran his hands over your stomach, “Don’t worry. Gonna make sure you feel so relaxed when I’m all done. Okay?”

You nodded as you watched him lower his face between your thighs. He put his hands on your ass and lifted you up toward his face as he pasted his mouth to your cunt. The look in his eyes on yours as he ate you out felt so animalistic. He was determined to get you off. Your thighs were over his shoulders and your hips were lifted up by his hands holding you steady as he fucked you with his tongue and his lips.

“Ohh!” You moaned and closed your eyes when you felt his tongue swirling over your clit in a rigid pattern.

Soon you had forgotten all about what was making you so upset because Harry’s mouth and tongue parting your crease was all you could think of. All you could feel. His moans vibrating off your bones and through your insides had you panting and squirming.

When you had your first orgasm you clenched your thighs together around Harry’s head but it didn’t stop him from working you to your end. Until you were laughing and biting back loud cackles.

Harry lowered your bottom down to the mattress slowly and sat up to look over your pretty body with a moan, “Fucking gorgeous,” he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he settled back between your legs and pushed your thighs up to your chest. Slowly, and softly he pushed two of his fingers into your cunt knuckles deep. You gasped and watched him but he looked like he was on the job. His brows were stitched together as he watched his fingers disappear and over and over again inside your pussy.

He let out a breath and licked his lips. He looked horny. Looked like he was aching to be inside of you. “You can fuck me, Harry,” you breathed as you bucked your hips upward.

“Oh I will, honey. Just need to make you come again. Want you all over my bed and my hands first. Okay?” His breaths were heavy. You knew him well. He was probably making a bit of a mess of his underwear with precome dribbling out of his pretty tip.

You moaned and nodded. His fingers always felt so good inside of you. Always reached into your bits just right. And you knew you’d be all over his bed and his hands just like he wanted. You were wet. You could feel it dripping down your cheeks. He liked it when you left a little spot under your bottom. Loved getting you all worked up and sloppy.

He gave your clit a moment to recover as he slipped his fingers in and out and watched you. Watched your shiny arousal coat his fingers and knuckles and palm. The sound of it was dirty and gushy.

“Harry!” You shouted as you lifted your neck to look at him when he began to fuck his fingers into you faster. The deep ache had you feeling that tightness in your core that only came about when you squirted. And you weren’t much of a squirter. Except Harry could make you squirt. He didn’t always do it because it was messy and it wasn’t better than an orgasm (you preferred to just come without squirting usually) but you knew that’s what he was doing. What he was aiming for.

“Hold on baby…” he spoke his words with clenched teeth as he looked from your face to your pussy. He released your legs and continued poking into you with his fingers at a fast pace as he added his other hand and quickly rubbed over your clit.

You began to shake and moan loudly, “Harry! Oh god!”

“Fffuck…” Harry groaned as he watched little splashes begin to spurt out and then he pulled his fingers out of you, a gush over your thighs and onto his comforter, and bits of your creamy dribble on his hand. He continued rubbing over your clit as you shouted uncontrollably and released involuntarily.

You kind of hated squirting. Though it did always leave you feeling limp and pliable after. Kind of wore you out. The biggest reason you hated it was that you weren’t in control of your body. The way you trembled and how loud you were… of course the spraying liquid part was uncomfortable too. And it didn’t always result in you actually having an orgasm. It was just really intense and it didn’t hurt, but it felt strange. Felt like something forced out of your body without you doing it.

You gasped and heaved your chest as Harry wiped you up. Your clit was sensitive and you jumped when he dabbed at you, “Sorry, baby.” He laughed. He wasn’t sorry. You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head.

“Feel a little better?” He asked you as he tossed the towel to the floor. You nodded.

“Yeah. But I want your come. That will really seal the deal for me.”

Harry breathed a laugh through his nose as he stood from the bed and removed his clothes.

“Gonna give you whatever you want, baby. Want my come? It’s all yours anyway,” he smiled at you, those dimples digging into his cheeks. God you loved him.

Harry crawled over you, his dick swaying as he adjusted himself above you. And you were right. He’d been steadily leaking precome. His cock was damp. You grasped him in your hand and sat up, “Let me have a little,” you dipped down and swiped your tongue over his slit and then stuffed him into your mouth as deep as you could get on the first go.

Harry whined and reached his hand to the back of your head, “My angel girl. Fucking perfect, baby,” You drooled a bit, saliva dripping down his shaft as you bobbed over him and sucked him in, swallowing what you could down your throat. You loved the taste of him. Loved how warm he was in your mouth.

Suddenly Harry pushed you up so you were forced to release his cock, and his face was flushed as he breathed heavily, “I want that pussy. Okay? Need to be inside of you.”

You nodded and sat back, “How do you want me?”

His soft smile widened, “Was just gonna ask you the same. What do you need right now?”

You shrugged and put your hand on his thigh as you looked up at him, “You could do anything to me, Harry. I love how you fuck me no matter what position.”

He groaned and pulled you into his chest before he pressed his mouth against yours. You felt every ounce of his love as he slowly kissed you, his tongue smoothing into yours, his lips puckering around yours and his hands holding you close. Harry was on his haunches, legs folded under himself as you climbed over him and rocked yourself into his cock.

Harry put his hands on your ass and smushed you into his shaft as he continued kissing you slowly.

You both writhed together, your labia kissing his foreskin, wetting the underside of his cock as you lid yourself against him. But then he leaned into you, making your back hit the mattress. Your thighs were still over his as he thrusted gently through your folds until he had pushed at you so he could finally fit himself into your hole. Slowly pushing past your little wet muscle and spreading your insides apart as he drove into you.

The whine that fell from his mouth had you popping your eyes open to make sure he was okay. Harry’s mouth was dropped open in a small smile and his eyes were closed as he tilted his head back and began to fuck into you deeply. You grasped onto his thighs and put your feet flat on the mattress and worked yourself over him, circling your hips slowly as he buried himself into you with his hips rocking forward. You pushed against his thrusts as he fucked into you. You wanted it to feel so good for him. Wanted him to explode into you. Wanted him to come harder than he ever had.

Harry opened his eyes and finally looked at your face, “Fuck, baby. That feels so good.”

You nodded and continued circling your hips, “I know it. Feels perfect with you inside of me like this.”

He massaged his hands slowly up your thighs to your hips and tummy. He leaned over you as he continued rolling into you and grasped your tits in his palm. With his angle over you, his pelvis jammed into your clit with each rock of his hips and you moaned, gripping his thighs harder to keep your clit pressed into his body.

“Oh god… Y/n your pussy is just begging for my come. Needs to get filled and loaded. Yeah?”

“Yes! Harry, I need it… Need you to come inside of me. Want you to feel good,” you breathed your words as Harry released your tits and grabbed your hands from his thighs. He pressed your hands down into the mattress next to your head and didn’t let up from shoving himself into you with each thrust.

Harry moaned lowly as he kept his eyes on yours. He wanted to watch your face as he fucked you. Wanted to see you come on his cock. He enjoyed watching you come undone. Loved how affected you were by him. Harry’s tip reached deep as he kept his hips pasted against yours, stuffing himself inward until he couldn’t get any deeper. His back and his arms were flexing with every move into you. His solid body above yours slowly started to tremble with ecstasy.

“Oh! Harry! You’re really in there deep, oh god…” your body was receiving all of him. His cock slipping deeply inside, his eyes on yours, his hands grasping your hands, his pelvis nudged into your clit…

“I know baby, feels so good with my cock in there like this doesn’t it?” His words were tensed as was his body as he spoke. You could tell he was about to burst. But he was a gentleman so he’d always make sure you came first.

Harry had repositioned you so that you were flat on the mattress and he was in between your spread legs as he railed into you deeply and slowly. His grunts were getting louder as he neared his end, but he kept his eyes on yours and his hands held your own down, his fingers between yours.

“Yes! Oh fuck,” you felt the blissful beginning of what you knew would be a big orgasm. Something that would have your body wrecked when he was done with you. Which is exactly what he intended.

The slick gushing noises that came from between your bodies told you that you were drenched and soaking the blanket under you. You couldn’t tell at that moment but it would be all wet and need to be cleaned up before you could lie in it for bedtime. Which tended to be normal when Harry fucked you like he did.

“Fuck, honey…” Harry groaned softly and ground into you, his pelvis against your clit. He kept himself buried into you, his hips pressed into yours until you snapped and cried out.

“OH! Harry!” Your brain melted as you spasmed around his cock and gasped for breath. The intensity of your orgasm was everything you needed. You could feel him moving inside of you as you clamped over him tightly and he groaned out as he began to come.

His thick, hard cock pumped into you. He moaned deeply in rhythm with his thrusts and pressed his mouth over yours as he slowly calmed from his exquisite orgasm. He loved fucking you and coming in you. And every time you two had sex it only felt better.

“Oh honey, so fucking good,” he kissed you and released your hands, putting his finger up to your face and gently cupping your jaw as he rutted into you one last time for good measure.

You yelped a laugh at his movement and wrapped your legs around his low back kissing him back slowly as you put your arms around his back.

Everything felt so safe and perfect with him. You knew that things were about to get hard but you knew you could get through it if you had Harry by your side. He promised you things would be okay and you believed him. Believed that he was right. How could you not believe him? What choice did you have anyway? You two were going to have to go through with what was to come and it was definitely coming. The breaks could be applied and there was no stopping Fae and her mother from finding out the whole truth. And now that they suspected you and Harry were fucking? It was only a matter of days probably.

Harry laughed softly and spoke into your ear, “Don’t fall asleep just yet my love. Need to clean up and change the sheets.”

You groaned and opened your eyes, “Not my fault. That’s all you.”

Harry nuzzled his face into your neck and kissed your skin, “I just want you to feel good and sleep soundly tonight. Hate seeing you worried.”

You tightened your arms around him and hummed, “Same. I just want you happy, Harry.”

Harry pushed himself up and smiled down at you, “I am happy, honey. I’m so happy with you.”

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[fictionadventurer]

Fantasy retelling of Northanger Abbey:

Innocent young Catherine Morland is overjoyed to have the chance to go to the King's City, leaving her quiet country town for a more diverse and magical metropolis.

Catherine loves reading fairy tales about the dramatic deeds of long-ago fae.

Henry Tilney is a trickster fairy prince who is jaded by a lifetime of dealing with the machinations of the fae courts. He gets amusement out of living among humans and laughing at their follies.

Catherine meets Henry and is immediately awed at his backstory and (metaphorically) enchanted by his charming personality.

For reasons unknown, Henry's father encourages Henry to romantically pursue Catherine. Henry half-heartedly goes along with it, because it's not a bad idea to stay in Dad's good graces.

And then he's shocked to find himself actually falling in love--because Catherine loves him and because she's genuinely innocent and good in a world where he thought such people didn't exist.

To everyone's surprise, Catherine gets an invite to stay at Henry's father's palace.

An actual enchanted fairy palace? How could Catherine say no?

As they're traveling there, Henry plays up all the old fairy tale tropes warning Catherine how to behave. He's joking (things haven't been like that for centuries) but Catherine still takes it to heart.

Catherine hears of the dramatic tale of the life and death of Henry's mother (perhaps a human? So Henry's actually only half-fae?). With her imagination primed by the stories she knows, Catherine starts to interpret faint "evidence" as proof that his mother's actually hidden away under a fate-worse-than-death curse, perhaps just waiting for a pure-of-heart maiden to come break the spell.

Henry catches Catherine during her quest and is amused and a bit offended. Do you know what you're saying? Maybe things like that could happen long ago and far away, but the fairies are Christianized now. Enchantments like that are far too brutal to consider.

She's right that his dad's a jerk, though.

Not long after this, Henry's dad sends Catherine away in disgrace. He had heard that Catherine was the Chosen One of a prophecy and wanted her to increase the power of his kingdom. He's shocked to learn it's not true (you mean humans can lie?), and in his anger he's harsh in sending her away.

Henry refuses to abandon Catherine and gets himself banished for refusing to give her up.

He shows up at her ordinary home and declares his love and they live happily ever after.

[thighzp]

hello! Happy Friday! I have a Ficlet Friday prompt for ya

🥵 Getting sun burn for firstprince plz

a few of you wanted sunburn! @mossy-fae & @thedramasummer this is also for you! Alex maybe should have taken advantage of the private cabana they rented at the beach in Thailand. continues below the cut

getting sun burn

"Darling, if you'd just hold still I could --"

Alex hissed as Henry tried to rub the aloe into his shoulders. "I can't hold still that shit is cold and it burns."

"Well maybe you should have thought of that before spending all day in the scorching sun when I constantly tried to get you to take breaks in the shade!" Henry retaliated.

Alex huffed and watched in the mirror as his husband rubbed the green gel across his upper back. "I put sunscreen on and everything," he whined.

"And again, I remind you, you must reapply," Henry said as he squirted more of the remedy on his palm to warm it up before torturing Alex any further.

"Geez, who are you, my mom?" Alex rolled his eyes.

"Someone has to make sure you're taken care of, my love," Henry said this quietly, his breath a whisper across Alex's bare back and shoulders. The mix of Henry's breath with the cold gel and the radiating sunburn sent a shiver down Alex's spine.

Henry looked over Alex's shoulder to catch his reflection in the mirror. Alex's bottom lip was caught between his teeth, but not in a look of pain.

More like a look of... pleasure?

Without another word, Henry rubbed in another handful of the aloe and followed it up by blowing gently across Alex's skin, watching the goosebumps rise at the sensation.

"Baby..." Alex groaned.

"You like that, don't you?" Henry looked amused. "After all of your whining and complaining, now you suddenly like the pain I'm inflicting on you!"

Alex's face turned red as he met Henry's eyes in the mirror, but not from the sunburn.

"Seems like some sensory play is in our future," Henry leaned to whisper along the shell of Alex's ear.

If they didn't have a dinner reservation to get to, Alex would be sprinting down the hall to fill their ice bucket.

~~~

ok I was feelin this one, whew

request a ficlet!

[rayroseu]

actually all this talk about sebek or silver fighting against malleus makes me sad akdhkhwod because if you think about it its the very thing that lilia was trying to avoid happening... a conflict between faes and human yk 😭

on another thought, i cant entirely blame malleus, the reason for his overblot is an effect of how dark faes are treated by the other species, feared, excluded, and labelled as strange and too powerful to be even considered as equals/be treated normally.

i think its ironic that the person who should've embraced that reputation is their ruler but he's the first one to feel that it isnt right, i think its been implied by now that human morals like shouldn't be applicable to faes as they have vastly different morals but when consider malleus, hes actually alot more humane based on his what he wishes (a friend, to be invited, have fun) but ig thats what sets him and meleanor apart....

sebeks personality says enough about how dark faes naturally think of themselves: because theyre so powerful and superior, its natural for them to be alone, but all that power leads to loneliness... as what was implied in Book 7.1 where Yuu asks Malleus if the Thorn Fairy (or rather Malleus) was lonely after years of exclusion...

also i want book 7 to reveal why levan, an assumedly dark fae, was desperately trying to make peace between humans and faes, even at the cost of (accidentally) endangering briar land--- (i think briar land lost at the human fae war bcs theyve weakened their defenses against silver owls😭)

maybe Levan's mission isnt just a general "faes and humans should get along"--- as we know, faes and humans DO get along but its only the "light faes" that humans accept (i.e knight of dawn and the 3 good fairies), but their treatment and view with the dark faes is that theyre villainous and should be defeated bcs apparently they're terrifying (implied in lilia's dream)

(even though silver owls was the first to offend them kshdkwj i truly think there was a time that silver owls and briar were "at peace," as henry says he first met meleanor and saw princess glow during a visit (?) at meleanor's castle)

so maybe Levan's actual mission isnt "humans and faes should get along" but rather "for dark faes to be accepted and treated kindly",

plus its makes more sense to center his ideals on dark faes- as we know that Meleanor hates humans and he's her wife so---for now, i dont think she'll approve of a plan that "caters to humans" but she could consider a plan that could give "dark faes more acceptance to the world" so they could be safe

idk where this word vomit is going lol this is just a simple interpretation but i think its just saddening that dark faes are making an effort in understanding humans yet the humans barely make effort to understand faes,,,

there are exceptions like silver and yuu, yet whenever they express their thoughts to others that (their) dark faes are "kind", they get shrugged off 💀💀💀

but ig the conflict never ends until one makes amends lol (sobbing about what mrs zigvolt and lilia endured just to believe in their dream that humans and dark faes can love one another djkdj)

(((i was just wishing twst wouldn't go all out in writing malleus as the “evil overblot villain that must eradicated” then boom a little essay about the profound relationship between dark faes vs other species lol (its the malleus apologist in me guys😭😭)))

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Birthday Cake (Lilia Vanrouge)

There's actually a tradition about birthday cakes back where the Prefect comes from.

Original idea by @strawberry-pie-thoughts

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

— (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

“This cake looks delicious, shame I couldn’t be there to make it.”

Lilia chuckles when Sebek hollers about surprises and traditions, as if Lilia didn’t know the exact day and hour they came up with the idea. Oh, well, it’d be sad to spoil their considerate surprise, so he won’t ever be telling them, though he thinks the Prefect might suspect, the smart darling she is. 

“We don’t know your age, so we got a bat candle! Do you like it?” said girl asks, beaming from where she’s sitting.

“I do, it’s very cute and matches the cake.”

It’s true, the magenta bat candle fits very well within the cake's neon green covering, the cherries near the borders and the colorful sprinkles thrown on top. Kinda reminds Lilia of Henry the fruit bat. The fae chuckles again, happiness bubbling inside him, a type of happiness he once forgot amidst wars and calamities, but was restored when life brought him three sons and good friends. And a sweetheart, who seems way more excited about his birthday than he does.

Lilia prides himself in his cuteness, but his crush’s is far too overwhelming to be beaten.

He blows the candle with the wish of companionship, with the desire to always have people to love in his life, and with the surprisingly shy admittance that he needs to confess soon.

(Y/N) promptly takes the candle off the cake and hands him a knife, ready to help with the cake distribution. By now, everyone knows to just let her help so long she isn’t overworking herself; all of them witnesses and appreciators of her unending kindness. Lilia thanks her with a soft voice, cutting the first piece of cake with swift movements and placing it on the waiting plate.

“That’s yours, dear. Let Sebek help me instead and go enjoy the cake~”

(Y/N) gives him a very adorable stunned look, holding the plate in the air for a few seconds, before opening what he can only describe as the biggest smile he has ever seen on her face. She’s so happy she lets out a little squeal and leans forward and oh.

“That’s what I call a gift~”

“Thank you, Lilia!” she chirps, placing another soft kiss on his cheek before pulling the chair closest to him and plopping down to enjoy her cake.

“Do you like cake that much, Prefect?” Silver asks, surprisingly awake.

“Well, yeah, but also, this is the first slice!”

“... Yes?”

The Prefect tilts her head, cutely as everything she does, fork in her mouth as she frowns. Then a light bulb seemingly goes off inside her head and she grins.

“Where I come from, you give the first slice of your birthday cake to the person you love the most! Can be your mom, or your friend, or your partner, anyone! It’s tradition~” she takes another bite, squealing at the taste. “Like… you like that person so much,  you want to share your cake with them first, y’know?”

Oh, yeah, Lilia knows very well.

That confession might come faster than he previously planned.

[adrianasunderworld]

Bridgerton au: Lady Nyla Drake

Nyla is currently the only granddaughter of Lord Drake of Briar Valley. Now that she is of age, her family, especially her grandmother, is adamant about her finding a suitable match. Preferably a fae nobleman.

Nyla has an older half brother, Henry Edwards, from her mothers first marriage. Their mother remarried when Henry was young and had Nyla right away. The whole reason they are in town now is because Henry has since taken over his late father's estate as the new Lord Edwards and will host his mother and sister for the season. Naia came along because she is adamant that Nyla not betroth herself to a human like her son did.

Nyla has always known her mother was unhappy in her second marriage, despite it being a love match. Naia was a miserable mother in law to her and her father tries to keep the peace, which often does more harm than good. Their mother doted on Henry out of guilt for bringing him to Briar Valley, and Nyla was left to the wayside in all of this. Despite being an accomplished young lady in her magic studies, languages, and the arts, being the perfect daughter never got Nyla the attention she craved, especially from her mother. Her grandfather ended up picking up where her parents lacked.

Before leaving on the trip, her grandfather wanted to ensure they traveled safe while abroad. So Lord Drake called in the favor of an old friends grandson, Sebek, to guard his only granddaughter. Sebek could not give him a reason to refuse and agreed to guard Nyla while away.

Sebek was not looking forward to guarding Nyla. He knew her when they were children, and all he remembers is a spoiled brat that thought she was above him, and seemed like Nyla had grown into just as vile a woman. But he gradually sees how Nyla is treated by her family and how it affects her, along with her more gentle side that others seldom get to see.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

“One of the new faces this season is that of Lady Nyla Drake of Briar Valley. Miss Drake appears to have already caught the attention of many gentlemen in the ton, though it seems none have been able to stand up against her critical eye. However this author is certain many gentlemen are willing to face such a challenge. That is, if they are able to get past her grandmother or her imposing guardsman first.” -Lady Whistledown

@mangacupcake @marrondrawsalot @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind

[kiwiana-writes]

ok MJ can i plz have some "director's commentary" on Empty your heart of its mortal dream - i absolutely luv this one and was just thinking about it the other day

i know it was orignally a drabble and then "evolved" and you've talked about how if you had to do it again it would probably be longer so where would you start in changing it if that were the case - what would you do differently?

or whatever you wanna say about it cuz i luv it and luv to hear ya talk about the way you luv it 💚💚💚💚💚

FAE PRINCE HENRY MY BELOVED.

Yes, this did start as a drabble for the prompt 'delirious', which can still be found in the end notes. I knew... basically as soon as I wrote it that it was going to be a drabble fail, so I didn't even bother adding it to my drabble collection lmfao. If I was going to go back and expand it, I'd just develop out the middle a whole bunch; there was a lot of telling instead of showing going on when it comes to the way Alex is kind of tormented by thoughts of Henry, and I'd also build out Alex's familial relationships a lot more. Let the reader see what he's giving up, by going with Henry in the end.

I also seriously considered the roles being the other way around, with Alex as the beautiful, tempting fae and Henry as the sheltered mortal, and I definitely don't regret the way I wrote it but the other way around would have been a ton of fun as well.

(Also, this fic used to be my 'what's your underrated fic' answer and is no longer at the bottom of my list by hits or kudos, which is lovely!!! I'm so so fond of it and it's so nice that other people love it too.)

[Fanfic Writers: Director's Cut]

[f10werfae]

From Kissies to Sex

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry x Shy!Reader

summary: After a brief argument Henry comes back to claim his precious babygirl’s virginity, after giving her second set of sweet lips a few kissies (DILF!Henry) (Dom!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/ Disclaimer 18+

Henry Masterlist, Lumberjack masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“baby bun, I told ya m’sorry, when are ya gonna let me back between those sweet legs a’ yours” Henry cooed brushing a bit of hair behind her ear, having just snuck in through her bedroom window now her grandparents were out. “I-i’m still upset, y-you promised to take m-me with you o-on your n-next trip! I-instead y-you left m-me here” She whimpered tugging on the bottom of his shirt, like a naive mindless little bunny, ignoring his hands that were busy massaging her bust through her shirt; his fingers circling her hardened nipples.

Having been dating for a couple of weeks now, it’s safe to say that Y/n found herself clinging to Henry like a puppy, her hands always wrapped around him and his around her. The furthest they had gone was him giving her pussy little “kissies” until it made her feel good, in fact it was practically normal for her to just sit her pretty ass right onto his face, especially after a hard day’s work; he needed his favourite sugary treat.

So when he was due for a log collection trip two hours out of town, little miss bossy pants stomped her foot saying she needed to go to keep her man company, how else would he live without his sweet sugar cube? Only for Henry to go on without her, being away for the better part of only 12 hours, but still that was 12 hours!

When he tried to call his baby up as soon as he got back for a sleepover, he was met with nothing but voicemails and declines, which led him to now. Sneaking into her bedroom while she was home alone, with the last time they spoke to each other just being two days ago.

“I know honey, I know, but are ya really gonna push me away? Future father of ya kids, ya future husband, your Henry?” He whispered stepping forward until she fell on top of her pink sheets, her body scrambling up against the headboard as he crawled up to her, their noses nudging against each other playfully as her hands cupped his bearded cheeks. “D-do ya promise to bring m-me next time? I don’t l-like n-not bein’ with ya” She whined kissing his lips softly, her glossy lips ghosting over his then kissing both his cheeks.

“I pinky promise sweetheart, now come on, don’t ya think I deserve my treat?” He tilted his head flopping down beside her, shuffling around to get himself comfy, watching as she stood up on her bed; flipping up her sun dress she held both his hands as she squatted down onto his face. His mouth kissing against her core as his nose nudged her clit, his hands grabbing onto her ass cheeks for dear life. “W-woah, feels good” She moaned out softly rocking herself back and forth on his face, his tongue venturing deep into her hole, his eyes peering deeply into hers as she bit her lips.

Humming against her mound, Henry felt her juices start to coat his face and beard, some of it even leaking down his cheeks onto her soft blankets; his nose manoeuvring her precious button to chase her release. “N-need more kisses, p-please?” She whimpered sitting up a bit more to hover over his face, letting her older man collect his breath before he growled and pulled her back onto his face. His face moving side to side rapidly as he slurped up all her juices, giving her one last tongue kiss down there before patting her ass to shift her down to his lap.

“Was that enough kisses for my baby bun? Did ya enjoy my lips on your cunt? Ya gonna deprive me of it again?”

“N-no never!” She gasped out as Henry started grounding her hips onto his bulge, her bare skin rubbing against his jeans, watching on as he unzipped his jeans to reveal his brief covered cock. “My sweet sweet girl, I can’t wait to bury myself in your soft puffy pussy, hear you moan and call out for me, how much you love me” He whispered caressing her jaw, smirking proudly as he watched her explore and take out his shaft, her mouth gaping open at the mere size of it.

Her face growing shy at the confession of him knowing her true feelings, as if she didn’t talk in her sleep about how much she loved him. “Y-you love me too right?” She beamed slowly stroking him up and down with her fist, giggling and squealing once he nodded and told her how much he needed and loved her. How she was his and his alone.

Pulling the rest of her dress off her he felt himself throb at the sight of her, “D-don’t look too hard o-okay?” She mumbled crossing her arms to hide herself, suddenly feeling insecure under his dark intimidating gaze. “Sugar pie, m’ gonna look all day every day for the rest of my darn life, you’re so goddamn beautiful” He crooned looking all over, his hands cupping each of her breasts, chuckling once he saw how her nipples hardened in his grasp

“Wait!Wait! T-turn them around” She whispered pointing to the array of stuffed plushies on her bed, collected from all the times Henry had won at the state fair, with Y/n call them their “babies” Nodding he turned around trying to hold in a chuckle, turning each teddy around so they weren’t witnessing this pornographic act. “Now m-m’ ready” She whispered leaning up with her hands on Henry’s shoulders, gasping as he flicked the head of his cock along her folds, pulling and stroking at the slickness to coat himself.

“Are ya sure you’re ready sweets?”

“You promise it won’t hurt?”

“I’ll try my best sugar, you just relax and let me do this okay? Jus’ sit n’ look pretty for your man” He sighed out slowly sitting her down onto his length, her voice crying out at the sensation of being stretched out, she really did feel like she was being split in two. It didn’t help that Henry’s mouth and tongue were wandering over her breasts, causing an overwhelming sense of touch to cloud her brain. “You’re okay baby, you’re doin’ so good for me, so prouda ya” He cooed pushing her hair back away from her face, her mouth wide open as drool came from the corner of her mouth.

“S-so deep n’ big” She gasped out finally feeling him bottoming out inside of her, his hands resting on her ass when she leant forward to wrap herself around his torso, her hips eagerly moving against his in tiny movements. Slowly he started to bounce her up and down on top of him, her voice matching the rhythm of his thrusts as she cried and moaned out, “c-can feel you in my t-tummy” “M-my clit, p-play with her” “W-wanna hug”

That last statement nearly made Henry coat her with his cum then and there, the thought of her nothing wanting more than to be EVEN closer to him was so adorable and sexy. Pulling her off of him he dragged her back into his chest, as he lifted up one of her legs delicately, running himself through his folds once again before delving back in. His arm wrapped around her waist tightly whilst the other groped both her breasts greedily, even grabbing at the skin on her hips and stomach like a mad man. “S-so warm n’ s-snuggly, l-like a bear” Y/n whimpered out clearly cockdrunk, her mind running 100 miles an hour from the pure ecstasy she was feeling, Henry’s wet lips travelling over her shoulder and back.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth bun, need to kiss those purty’ lips of yours” He growled taking a hand and using it to turn her head to the side, his tongue drooling into her mouth as he dipped in and sucked on her tongue, both their faces soon turning wet and slobbery from their kiss. “Mmm want more kissies” She whined reaching up to kiss him again, this time clamping her lips onto his as she clenched her hole around him, Henry swallowing her squeals and grunts.

“Never leavin’ ya sugar, n’ you ain’t leavin’ me, ya hear me?” He whispered kissing her chin, spanking her tits as they moved and jiggled wildly, “mhm d-don’t wanna leave, wanna stay with you bear” She mumbled laying her head back down onto the pillow, feeling Henry fucking her own cum back inside her as he himself chased his finish. A slosh of white cream surrounding the base of his cock each time he thrusted up, evidence of both of them mixing together as one, how he finally claimed her as his woman.

“Too sensitive” She rasped out as Henry slowed down, as he slowly thrusted inside of her for another 10 minutes, just kissing and loving on her sensually. Until he finally slipped out and let her turn around to face him, her breathing still rapid as he pulled her arms over his waist, lifting her leg up to see how he was still dripping out of her lips, “stop lookin! s’embarrassin’” She whined pulling her leg back down as she glowered at him, huffing while he smiled and kissed her forehead, immediately breaking a smile onto her face.

“What ya don’t wanna see our baby bein made?” He joked running his hands up and down her body, pulling her closer to him, their chests flushed together. “I have to go home soon ya know that right? Your grandparents will be ‘ere soon” He whispered pressing a chaste kiss to her nose, watching it wrinkle cutely in response.

“D-don’t go! I-I wanna cuddle and hug n’ kiss” She said seemingly clinging onto him harder, “O-or bring me with you?” She offered looking up to see a smile forming on his face, she got him there,

“Ok fine, but you’re goin’ naked, that okay with ya?” He smirked standing up and fixing himself up, just wrapping her up in one of her fluffy blankets as he carried her out of the room a squirming mess, her giggles and laughs going unnoticed by Henry as he tucked her caterpillar shaped cocoon into the passenger seat. Clicking in her seatbelt with a soft wet kiss to the lips and a pinch to her cheek, letting her shuffle over to him once he got in, her head on his shoulder as they drove off towards the mountainous hills. Their home grounds.

———

psa: hope you all enjoy finding out about their first real sexcapade together 🫶

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist

@pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @queensgirl718 @sweetybuzz25 @k3ira13 @shecamedowninabubble @ridingthehotmessexpress @heyitsme-2 @animez96 @namjoons-t1ddies @ameliascreampuffs @angelic-dreams13 @respectmyprivacys-blog @squishyturtle

See you all at the next update, lots of love🫶

[writerfae]

Wow, I wrote something. And it’s even canon!

Well, of course it won’t be in the story word for word, but it’s a scene that somehow like this will be included. Yay!

Takes place after Aiden got freed from the Knights.

The night was full of stars and the surface of the starlight lake, too, was littered with the sparkling reflections of the same bright lights that decorated the dark sky.

Aiden sighed as he lowered himself deeper into the water, the cool sensation a boon for his heated skin.

It felt good to wash off the dirt from the last couple days. And to get a few minutes of quiet to clear his head.

He had always hated to be alone, but after the last few hours he almost found himself missing it.

His head was brimming with all the informations he was confronted with, with thoughts of his mother, his brother, of the insanity he found himself in.

Never would he have expected such a mess when he followed Halea into the other realm to find Henry.

Find him he did, but he also found so much more. It was almost too much to handle.

Aiden wanted to run. He genuinely planned to do so, to leave everything behind and go home to hide from the truth he learned.

And then the Knights had captured him and everything changed yet again.

With what he knew now, he couldn’t possibly leave. He had to warn Henry. To help him and the others.

He lifted his hand and let the water slip through his fingers. The water made his skin sparkle just like the stars above.

Whether he liked it or not, he was now right in the middle of this whole disaster and he had his part to fulfill. People were relying on him to help and stop Morena.

Only he could do it. After all, the sword had chosen him. After all, it was in his blood.

He stared at his fingers, at the starlight on his skin, then he clenched his hand into a fist.

Yes, he would stop this. He’ll warn Henry, stop the madness and when all of this was done, the two of them could talk.

When they survived, whispered a voice in his head, but Aiden decided to ignore it.

He wasn’t alone anymore. He stood a chance. They stood a chance. If only they worked together.

“Aiden,” a voice called to him. As he looked over his shoulder, he could see Talon standing at the lake side.

Moonlight caught itself in his light hair and made it shine almost like a saint’s halo, which was an irony Aiden didn’t miss out on.

He slowly rose from the water, making his way over to the other boy.

When the water barely reached his navel, he stopped, suddenly realizing that he was very much naked underneath the water surface.

Not that Talon would have noticed it if Aiden had broken the rules of modesty, since he still refused to look at him.

Aiden wondered when he’ll ever have the courage to meet him eye to eye.

“You should come,” Talon said, eyes lowered, his voice barely loud enough so Aiden could hear.

“Get some rest before we make our way back to court. Nyx says we are safe here, but we should make sure to leave before sunrise if we want to be there before them.”

Aiden nodded. “I will. Give me a second to uh…” he looked down at himself. “get dressed.”

Talon didn’t say anything to that. He just nodded quickly, before turning around a bit too fast and making his way back to the bonfire.

Did Aiden only imagine it, or did the fae’s ears seem a little red in the light of the moon?

He shook that thought off and made his way to the water’s edge to gather his clothes.

Talon was right, he’d need some rest. They had a long day ahead.

*

tag list: @andifthestarsweretodie @bloodlessheirbyjacques @bluehourskyeli @deadlycupid @dustylovelyrun @justafrogandherumbrella @ladywithalamp @magic-is-something-we-create @myhusbandsasemni @my-cursed-prince @phantasticdomains @rhikasa @sleepy-night-child @soupopoireau @theguywithnonickname @vampywriter @vsnotresponding @writing-is-a-martial-art (if you want to be added or removed from the tag list let me know!)

[johannestevans]

Whats your perspective on names?

Do you have any specific thoughts about them? how did you find yours? did it take long to? how many have you had? also your characters! obligatory "I Love Your Work!" (and i enjoy riffling though new and also rereading old), So from amaethon to cecil to danny to the King family and the Laithes family, their names are one aspect that have always stuck out to me because they all integrate into their stories while still feeling unique in contrast to each other! i dont miss that a lot of it is influenced by your interest in fae lore and your welsh heritage either. where does the name come in during your writing process, is it the first or last thing you think of? do you have a mish-mash of where you find them? any pettier more low stakes opinions on names?

(all this started bc i'm struggling to find a name, and want the perspective of another trans person :) !)

I changed my name when I was about 15 - it comes from a similar biblical root as my deadname, so basically I shortened my deadname and then looked for other names that it could be a nickname for.

For me, it really wasn't a long or involved process - it happened quite smoothly and easily, and I've never felt like I needed to try other things or find something that fit me better.

Johannes is a Dutch and German name - it's an older form of John and is like Ioannes / Yiannis in Greek, and it comes from Hebrew for God is gracious. It can be shortened to Johann, but generally my actual loved ones either call me John or Johnny, or they call me Hannes.

"Johannes" in German is kind of a stereotypical old man's name? A German friend was laughing a lot about it because she said that to me and I was like "Yeah?" and she was like, oh, yeah, that fits, lmao.

I do play around a lot with names, and I'd say that I take them from a lot of different sources and get creative with them. Multiple times I've called a character "Henry Sutton" without realising I've done it multiple times, which is why I've got a few Henry Suttons knocking about.

For more established characters with deeper backstories, I play around a lot with the naming process - I normally have a particular mouthfeel or aural impact I'm going for, such as a certain number of syllables or a particular "flavour", like a name that has a feel of a particular class or country or profession.

With that said, I think most of my names I pick quite quickly and feel out early on in the process - it's rare that a character of mine is more fleshed out and lacks a name, because I find a name is such a useful part of someone's identity and informs a lot of how they move in the world and are perceived and treated. Something like their appearance is far less important, funnily enough.

I like to employ some literal stuff - Valorous King, for example, is very aptly named in a way that can sometimes feel like a curse to him; Amaethon is actually one of the children of Dôn, but people don't really know old Welsh gods and goddesses very well, so it just feels like a random elf name; Ganymede Cavendish is named for a beautiful young lover of Zeus, and he is just as beautiful and victimised in the same way as his namesake.

Other times, I go with more irony or play with juxtapositions - name a character for joy or ease when they're generally miserable or tortured; name them something small when they're very big or vice versa; name them for darkness when they're very light, etc.

I'll often take forenames or surnames from things I'm watching or playing or listening to - when I want to pluck a name out of the air at random and am worried I'm using too many of the same names, but want like, "real" names that real people use and live with, it's fucking great to pick names out of the credit sequences of TV or movies and mash them up.

Sometimes I scroll through census records and stuff, but the problem with the number of characters I have is that I can't always do that - as much as it's realistic for many characters to be called Jones or Evans or Williams, I'd need to make a thing of it in fiction. Census records are great for older characters, especially from the 1700s-1900s.

The ones that are actually hardest for me is Latin names - Greek ones I'm a lot more comfortable handling, but my Latin grammar is fucking dogshit, and I often worry about mishandling a name or reusing one that's too commonly written already. Medieval Latin is alright to play with, but when I'm writing old Roman characters I just feel like I'm kicking my own ass the entire time.

I will say that some shit in that regard is just fucking lazy. I abhor the lazy tendency in fiction to introduce a Black character and call him Mr White or Mr Chalk or something similar, especially when it's contrasted with an evil white character and/or that character's best friend who's named Black or Ebony. It's not in itself that awful, it's just the fact that it's so overdone and clichéed, and comes from a really basic humour and sense of irony that doesn't really build on or create anything, just lazily says "haha, this guy's Black and this other guy's white, isn't that a thing?"

I don't actually have a problem with reusing some names a lot - John, Henry, Daniel, etc - and I will often just search "common names [country]" and play with similar names that jump between and change from different languages or change throughout history. It can be worth looking up legends or stories from a certain region or like, old wives' tales and stuff, because like...

Sometimes, the benefit of a common or uncommon name is in its cultural impact - a name like mine, a name like John, is ubiquitous, but that means you can draw loads of parallels to it; on the other hand, if you grab a word that's very much not a name, but is a place, an object, a common noun, an animal, a turn of phrase, etc, you create a tension around that character with the other characters around them, even if people aren't commenting on it directly and even if you don't tell the reader immediately that their name is unusual or noteworthy.

When you're playing with a name that has a lot of cultural impact within a culture you're writing, as a name or otherwise, it can be fun to have a name that will have a lot of resonance for the characters you're writing, but doesn't inherently have that same impact on the reader (or only has that impact if the reader is already familiar with them culturally, or is familiar with the niche historical/religious subject you're working with).

An obvious one in mine is Esben's pets, for example, are called Kottr the dog and Hundr the cat - Kottr in Old Norse means cat, and Hundr, dog. A lot of English speakers will notice the cognates there if they think about it, but I've had people who speak Nordic languages comment on it a lot because it's just a fun little thing.

Gellert Osgodby has named himself after Gelert the dog - but in Welsh, we don't use two Ls to make an "l" sound. In Welsh, his name would be pronounced more like Geshert (the ll sound isn't easy to transcribe in English). He's fucked that up, and that's part of how you can tell he isn't Welsh himself, and isn't a Welsh speaker.

I definitely am influenced most by Welsh and Irish mythologies and stories, and I do tend to play with some Jewish cultural elements a lot as well, if not directly with Jewish mythologies.

Part of that, I regularly say, is because of the way that Welsh and Irish stuff tends to be treated by US American creators who identify as Welsh/Irish/Scottish/ "Celtic" or whatever and just go for random butchery of everything in sight - it's not their fault they don't have any sense of cultural respect, because that's not the culture they were raised in, but it does irritate me, and like...

Because I get so snippy about Welsh stuff, I try to be a lot more careful handling other cultures, particularly in various ways oppressed or minoritised ones, especially who are often misrepresented in media in similarly clumsy, lazy, or just entitled ways.

For names in cultures I'm less familiar with and coherent with, what I actually do is regularly search the full name I'm using, but also like, search Wikipedia entries for famous celebrities that use that language, come from that country or culture, and are of the same caste, religion, or ethnicity as the character(s) I'm working on and basically just read a bunch and contrast and compare.

Sometimes I very explicitly go against a lot of cultural stuff depending on which cultures I'm drawing from - Velma Kuroda, for example, has picked a name very much at odds with the more traditionally Japanese name her brother has picked, and that has to do with family beef that I'll get into later in Little Devils.

In Derek Landy's Skulduggery Pleasant, people have three names - their regular name, their magical name, and then their true name written on their soul, by which they can be commanded and coerced; in T.S. Eliot's The Naming of Cats, cats have three different names - the name by which their human family call them, the name by which they're known to other cats, and then their secret, most innate name, known only to themselves.

Many of us have multiple names and go by different names in different circles - many Jewish people have a Hebrew name, and gerim might pick one when they convert; in Ireland, a lot of people have their names as Béarla different to their names as Gaeilge.

Some people go by their middle names or are called a completely different name to the one they were named at birth - Hell, some people don't even realise until they're adults that the name everyone's always called them isn't their official documents name.

And that's not even considering queer people and how many names we might cycle through, feeling out the ones that fit or don't, using different names in different circles or for different personas, using different names online or offline.

There's a lot of power in a name and in a naming, but there's also a lot of leeway and flexibility, and one name isn't the same to all the people who might use it - I try to reflect that living quality in lots of the characters I write and play with.

With a name, I would say it's important to think about how it feels in your mouth and in your hands - how it feels to say your name, how it feels to write it, how it might feel to write your signature, what spelling you choose or what characters it's made up of, what your initials might be, etc. What nicknames you might or mightn't like.

How does or would the name strike people, depending on who they are or where they're from or how old they are? Are you named for someone - someone people would or wouldn't recognise? A figure from myth, from TV, from books, a historical figure, a religious or cultural figure, someone you love, a relative, an ancestor? Is your name usually a name at all?

I know so many people with so many beautiful names, many of them unexpected, either because their parents or family chose them, or because they chose them themselves, and I know there's a lot of choice out there, but good luck with the hunt! I hope you find something that fits, and feels like it sings to you!

[philtstone]

Taylor Swift prompts! 5 for Anne/Aramis

#5 -- once upon a time, a few mistakes ago on a whim i returned to my old constance owns a small town inn au today and i thought what better way of filling this prompt than sharing an excerpt from the yet-unpublished chapter 5, "what happened to anne and aramis", which was meant to be a flashback sequence after the very dramatic late-night reveal that theyd slept together its very unlikely that ill ever be able to finish this fic, but i do love it so much.

For all the goodness in his heart, it must be stated that René Aramis d’Herblay has been, and always shall be, the sort of young man who very frequently makes mistakes. This is not his fault, necessarily, nor can it be said that these mistakes are those of the Earth-shaking, life-destroying variety. Most, indeed, are fairly mundane, and have to do with simple things such as his daily intake of caffeine (too high) or the average hours of sleep he manages per night (too low). But perhaps the greatest mistake Aramis has made thus far in his life is not his childish impulse to neglect his piano lessons at the age of ten, nor his impetuous decision to join the army at age nineteen, nor even the stubborn insistence that he use his middle name as his first. In fact, some might argue that this last point was a perfectly allowable decision, though anyone who knows him could testify that the René suits him just as well, if not more, than Aramis ever has. No -- the greatest mistake Aramis makes in his youthful twenty-eight years on God’s green Earth is that he never once takes his father’s oft-repeated advice, and makes nearly all of his decisions with emotion, rather than logic.

Now, it would be remiss of the narrator not to point out that this is not a trait inherently faulty. Indeed, a young man of Aramis's education and reading might breeze through most of his life making decisions that are blessedly the correct choice despite their emotional backing, for a strong ideological basis, borne of a broad and illustrious education, is generally helpful in internally nudging a person’s mind in the right direction. Aramis, whatever other faults he may have, possesses this ideological basis perhaps unusually strongly for a young man his age.

Ana Maria Mauricia de Bourbon is not the first to notice this, nor the last. But she is the first to take it, and tuck it away in her heart, in a way that precious few others have. It is here, then, that the narrator must take yet another step away, and point the reader back to that fateful day wherein the fae, well-meaning wife of their little town’s incompetent mayor was nearly brained by a ceiling tile in the middle of Monsieur d’Herblay’s second-grade classroom.

On the afternoon of the day immediately after this incident, Anne donned her most autumn-appropriate cardigan (a soft cream-coloured cashmere), swept her hair up into its most sensible updo (the one bordering on severe, which Louis had always hated), and slipped her smallest pair of pearls into her ears (these, Anne knew, were barely visible, and brought no attention to her ears, which she believed to be her most shapely feature). Having thusly prepared herself, she took a deep breath, clasped the delicate gold chain of her favorite crucifix around her neck, and walked the short distance back to the public school to check on the state of Monsieur d’Herblay’s ceiling.  

Monsieur d’Herblay’s ceiling was doing just fine, and his children -- for that was what he cheerfully called them -- were doing even better. They flocked her upon her gentle knock at the doorway, clambering over each other and disrupting their daily Reading Circle to be the first to greet her at the door. Chirped cries of, “Monsieur d’Herblay, Monsieur d’Herblay, Madame de Bourbon has returned!” and overloud “HELLO MADAME”s, and, most amusing of all: “are you dying, Madame de Bourbon?” rang out in abundance.

“Oh, no, I am in perfect health, Henri,” Anne had assured the little boy, clutching her handbag with perhaps more force than she might have usually. “The ceiling tile missed me, you see.”

“Were you very scared?”

“I don’t think I --”

“Did you think you were going to die?”

“Marie, I really don’t think --”

“I don’t think you were scared,” had declared Suzette, a little girl more rolly than polly, who enjoyed wearing corduroys at every given opportunity. 

“She is a superhero,” whispered Victoire in agreement, from Suzette’s left, only she lisped most of the word, for she had just lost her two front teeth the night before.

“I am --” 

“She is indeed.” 

And here, the narrator may say that Anne felt once more rescued, just as she had been rescued from a terrible head injury the day before, as the lanky figure of Aramis swept smoothly through the children and in front of her, somehow managing to usher them back into a bad imitation of a half-moon and relative silence without uttering a single word. Anne wondered if this sort of skill was cultivated, or if he had simply possessed it since birth. (This was not a sign of her own naivete. To be sure, Aramis himself had no idea.) “Madame,” his smile was soft but infectious nonetheless -- Aramis had many of these smiles to give -- and Anne found her grasp on her handbag ease.

“I simply wanted to make sure that everything was in working order, Monsieur d’Herblay. It would be a shame if any of your students were injured by more falling ceilings, you see.”

“I’d protect them with my own life were that to happen, Madame,” said Aramis very seriously. The reader might have realized by now that Aramis was very rarely a truly serious sort of person, but that this was certainly one of those rarelies. “I assure you.”

“Like he protected you,” offers Henri, from around Aramis's leg.

Anne, whose skin was cursed to be fair and quite susceptible to flushing, turned pink. However, she did not deign to acknowledge this, but rather cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. This was a tactic that she had picked up from Constance. She found it was a great help in faking sensibleness when one felt a resounding lack of it. Sensibleness was something she needed tremendously just then, as she was suddenly infused with a surge of reckless courage.

“It was nothing,” said Aramis, smiling warmly, but was gently cut off by Anne’s voice, in it an odd note both hesitant and hopeful.

“Oh, it was certainly not nothing. In fact,” Anne took quite a deep breath, “I am in your debt, Monsieur, and as such, I would like to give you a token of my gratitude.” 

Aramis blinked, a few times, and then said, “Oh?” very curiously. There was half a smile in his voice.

“Yes,” said Anne, taking a step forward and lifting her chin. Carefully, she reached around her neck and unclasped her crucifix, and then held it pretty and dangling in front of her. “A good luck charm -- for protection,” she explained. “In case there are any other falling ceiling tiles.”

“Would you not need it yourself,” asked Aramis, though his tall frame was already slightly bent over, as though instinctively anticipating her next move of clasping the necklace very carefully behind his collar.

Anne was determinedly trying not to let her fingers brush against the tanned skin of his neck as she fastened the chain, which was perhaps why she did not think before she said, “Oh, but I am sure you will always be there to rescue me again.”

She straightened, bringing her hands down abruptly and smoothing them carefully over the front of her blouse; she did not break eye contact with him, but did flush just a little more, contrite.

Aramis, however, was looking somewhat entranced. The children were watching the proceedings with rapt attention.

“Of course,” he said, his voice impossibly soft.

Anne could have sworn she was floating. She wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or something else entirely that she could not have for the life of her identified just then, as she had very little experience with these things overall. “Yes,” agreed Anne, although there was nothing to really agree about. She then hesitated, surrounded by the colourful paper posters lining the walls alongside the children’s macaroni artwork, as people like Anne caught in such situations are sometimes wont to do. “Goodbye then, children,” she said, her voice a little high pitched, taking a step back to go and once more clutching her purse.

“Say goodbye,” Aramis had whispered loudly over his shoulder.

“Goodbye, Madame de Bourbon,” chanted the little class. Anne made it all the way to the doorway, before turning back to give the class a final little wave and a smile.

And Aramis had smiled back at her, as people like Aramis caught in such situations are sometimes wont to do, and it was for this smile that Anne did not leave the classroom and put the incident completely out of her mind, as she had vowed to do so as to save herself long stretches of internal embarrassment -- but instead, not a week later, returned.

**

Once again, in preparation, Anne donned her second-most autumn-appropriate cardigan (a delicate off-yellow wool), swept her hair up into its second-most sensible updo (elegant, but discreet), and slipped in her smallest pair of pearls (her ears, Anne thought, with a small pang of regret). Having thusly prepared herself, she took a deep breath, tucked her most cherished copy of C.S Lewis’s The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe into her handbag, and walked the short distance back to the public school.

Anne’s faint little knock on the door was noticed first by the sweet red-headed Henri, who leapt to his feet in the middle of Reading Circle and declared her presence with great gusto.

“Madame de Bourbon! Madame de Bourbon is here again, Monsieur!”

One hand paused over his guitar, Aramis had stilled as he looked up at her from their lopsided circle. There was a look on his face, one that neither Anne nor the children quite understood, but made everyone in the room feel as though something was about to Happen. He was still wearing her crucifix, Anne noticed, and for that she took a deliberate step into the classroom, inhaled silently (she would later confide to Constance that it felt far louder than it actually was), and reached into her handbag.

“I was -- I brought you a book for Reading Circle,” she said (Anne never blurted anything in her life, but it was a close thing), and held out The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe in front of her. “Monsieur. If you need another one, I thought that the children might enjoy --”

Anne's words came to a stop -- not because she was the sort of person who faltered, but rather because she was caught off-guard by the growing smile on Aramis's face, the kind that started small and grew to be enormous, like the lights of a Christmas tree flickering on when the electricity is a bit unreliable.

(You see, here, that Constance’s earlier narration was quite accurate.)

“Oh, but this is brilliant,” Aramis was saying, scrambling to his feet, guitar still in hand (it twanged a little where his knee bumped it), as Anne managed to focus on his voice, a smile of her own growing on her face. He stood properly and strode through their now disarrayed circle, half-turning back to the children and then swiveling back to face Anne, as though he did not know whether to address his class or the book or her. “This edition -- I’ve been looking for Lewis for years, but I’ve never found this one again, anywhere, I --” He looked up from the book -- “I had it as a kid -- my mother gave it to me, but I lost it when I moved away and she -- it’s the only one --”

“-- With the good illustrations!” Anne finished for him, her own smile shining like one might expect a fairytale star to do up close. 

“Yes! You’ve read --”

“It’s my most prized copy,” Anne admitted, a little bit breathless, because the topic of books was always an exhilarating one. 

“Well,” said Aramis, positively beaming. “I’ve found a kindred spirit, it seems! Kids -- guess what we’re going to be reading next!”

Anne had laughed, a bright, tinkling sound. The children were all, once again, watching with rapt fascination, which was an important detail, for, as we all know (but most forget), children are an awfully perceptive sort.

“I’m glad it was a good choice,” said Anne warmly, and Aramis turned back to her, grin still firmly painted on his face. His eyebrows raised, then, as though realizing something, and quickly held up a long finger in the universal gesture for Wait, just a moment, for you might be an angel and I think that I’m dreaming. Anne did not read this far into his finger-raise, but waited curiously as he turned around and nearly stumbled to his desk, depositing his guitar in the desk chair and lacking half of his usual grace in his enthusiasm. 

“It’d be rude of me,” he started, rummaging through what Anne identified as a battered canvas backpack, covered in pins and marker and looking as though it was on its last legs, “not to give you something back, Henri, wouldn’t it be so awfully rude --”

“The rudest,” Henri confirmed solemnly, nodding at Anne with all the gravitas a seven-year-old boy might possess.

“Un-for-giff-ble,” added Victoire, nodding furiously.

“We’d sack him,” said Marie, as though they even had that sort of executive power.

“Oh, dear, you really don’t need to --” started Anne.

“-- Aha!” cried Aramis, and held up a book. “Constance says you enjoy Shakespeare, Madame, and Shakespeare is certainly too much for us struggling students to grasp --”

“I could grasp Shookspeare if you’d let me, Monsieur d’Herblay,” complained Suzette.

“I shall give you Hamlet tomorrow, little bird,” Aramis said, very seriously, before turning back to Anne and holding out what must have been the most battered collection of Shakespeare’s comedies that Anne had ever seen in her life.

Once again, for a moment, Anne felt -- and, indeed, this time looked -- as though she might be floating.

��Oh,” she said faintly, “this is wonderful. I don’t know how to -- I’ll return it as soon as I can, Monsieur --”

“Aramis,” said Aramis, interrupting her. And, perhaps for the first time that day -- that week -- that month -- Aramis felt his face heat up with a blush, the sort that creeps up on you in moments of great excitement, where you have just met a person whom you think to be the terribly decent sort. “Um, you could -- well, Madame, if we’re exchanging books.”

“It’d only be right,” agreed Anne solemnly, and held out a hand. “It is very good to meet you, Aramis. I’m Anne.”

“Anne,” said Aramis, trying out her name in his mouth.

(The narrator must be appropriately dramatic about these little moments, after all.)

They shook hands, the beaming smiles still present (but perhaps a little softer), and Henri tugged on the hem of Aramis's professional teacher-appropriate cable-knit sweater.

“Monsieur d’Herblay, may I call you Aramis too?”

Anne laughed.

Small moments such as these are actually not nearly as rare as we may believe them to be -- such as these referring to the small event of two souls knitting together over a mutual delight. For some, it may be ping pong. For others, long walks in gardens, or contemplation of the night sky. Still others may collide gently into one another because their dearly beloved pets decide to sniff at each other’s bottoms, and for some, their eyes widen at the discovery that their coffee order is the same, down to the brand of cream they prefer, and everything shifts a little bit.

For Anne and Aramis, it was not books -- as one might expect after all that -- but kindness.

[aquaburst3]

Not sure how popular this is as a hot take. I still believe that Vil being human doesn't make any sense.

In canon, Vil has an intimidating allure about him that ironically pushes others away from him. That’s great and all. But, every single character in the canon is inhumanly beautiful minus Grim and Ortho, so why would Vil be the only one to have this issue and have a wholeass complex about it? That makes no sense! Wouldn't all other characters struggle with that if that's the case? I get that he can be a bit…much, and even people in the fandom commented about that, but that doesn’t seem like it would be enough to cause all that in universe.

Typecasting is very much a thing. Plenty of actors in Hollywood and elsewhere have struggled with that very thing. Him being typecasted as a villain is realistic. It seems like something that would happen, especially since Vil comes off as rather intense and I can't see him pulling off an everyday hero type of role like Neige. (I see Vil shining in more antihero/complex villain roles like Cardan from Folk of Air, Lucius Malfoy from Harry Potter or the Darkling from Shadow & Bone. Or even beautiful princely types like Legolas from Lord of the Rings.)

However, I think the extent of how it is painted is hard to buy if he's just human. In the game, it seems like people automatically turn their noses up at him and even bully him thanks to his looks and him being casted as a villain. That seems like an over the top reaction for just being an actor playing villain roles.

Yes, a similar thing happened to the actor who played Joffrey from Game of Thrones where people thought he was an asshole in real life when he really wasn't. Here's the thing. I think he's more of an outlier than the rule, because he's not conventionally attractive. Don't get it twisted. I'm NOT saying that he's ugly. But he's not a total knockout either. Pretty Privilege is very much a thing. There are load of scientific studies done proving that people tend to like you more, think you are automatically a good person and give you the benefit of the doubt if you are hot. (x) That's why criminals like Ted Bundy were able to get away with their crimes for so long, because they were considered handsome and people gave them the benefit of a doubt. So if that actor looked more like Ben Barnes or Henry Cavill, I doubt that would've happened in the first place, because people would think the best of him thanks to his looks. That same logic applies to Vil. If the game was more realistic, people would be thinking the best of him, because he's hot.

Plus, we learn in Vil’s Birthday Bloom Card and the Tapis Rouge Event that Vil has no idea who his mother is and has no interest in ever finding her. Usually in fantasy stories characters with that same backstory as Vil are either long lost royalty or a half supernatural creature of some kind, and the latter makes the most sense with Vil. You think something would pop off with that information, but it doesn’t. It’s fucking bizarre. 

I also think this is partly an issue of Yana leaning too much on the original source material without considering the ramifications of such a choice. It's implied that the reason why others are so frightened of the queen, despite her being just human, is because she's a witch. She applied that same logic to Vil. That's not the case in the TWST universe. People being so frightened and intimidated by him based on that makes no sense, because in canon at least one tenth of the population are mages and it's seen as normal. Applying that same logic as the Evil Queen to Vil doesn't work. It's a different universe, different rules. (I'm NOT accusing Yana of plagiarism. It's a Disney game, and that's part of the appeal. However, her overreliance on references and callbacks to the original work are an issue that pops up time and time again.)

He should've been a half fae. If that was the case, then that could all be explained away by supernatural reasons out of his control. His fae allure could've been what made people instinctively afraid of him. It would also make the information about him not knowing his mother have a narrative payoff instead of something tossed in there for no reason. Plus, he has all of the hallmarks of a fae personality wise. He’s rather harsh, domineering, stern, can be quite impulsive at times, has a cruel temper and is overly just very…intense, for the negative. On the positive side, he’s fair, just, kind to those dear and genuinely wants to help others in his own ways.

While I think there are a lot of other issues with the writing in Book 5 like how it mainly focused on "Wah, I'm always typecasted as a villain :(" instead of his more relatable problems like his creative envy over Neige and constant need of validation, never having the characters call out Vil for his fucked up actions like the whole cake thing, Neige being just a piece of cardboard for Vil to sneer at and all of the pacing, making him a half fae would've been a start. Same with making him and Neige stepbrothers. Eh, whatever. Fixing that up in my own rewrite and that's what matters.

[asexualmusicalnerd]

Thoughts of Newsies UK final performance

-The lights going down, coming up to reveal the newsies on the balconies and everyone going ape shit

-Race kicking the paper instead of seeing it. Josh is honestly the best race. *chefs kiss*

-Hey Henry, one final time, get down here.

-More cheers

- Carrying the banner ended with a standing ovation.

-basically every other song ended with a standing ovation

-Oh! Crutchie used the slingshot in Carrying the Banner, missed totally, shook his hand, looked at our side of the audience and mouthed "caught my thumb" pouting slightly XD

-people were sobbing everywhere, the audience AND the newsies themselves!

-Pulitzer doing little squats whenever being particularly evil. It worked don't get me wrong, but it just made me smile. Little evil goblin (affectionate)

-Nuncio always looking appalled at Pulitzer's plan

-Matt Duckett's choice to kiss the cross on Jack's line "Sunday when you lie around all day" and how he looks downhearted when Jack says about leaving but perks up when he says he "got no folks nowhere" I could just spend the entire show watching his expressions. Boy that guy can act.

-That's Rich had Medda in tears and struggling to keep it together

-"who wants Brooklyn" and several news just vanishing behind their bags.

- Michael just loosing it completely in Santa Fae reprise, tears pouring down his cheeks. But he hit that high note perfectly.

-In Seize the Day and everyone paused for the photo everyone was sobbing. The newsies were clinging to each other trying to stay in character despite being in tears. And of course, massive round of applause there.

-And when they all say there name, each name got a round of applause, but after Race, the applause was just continuous

-Letters From the Refuge Crutchie's line of "so far they ain't bring us no food" someone in the audience let out a really loud "HA!" which let to laughs, cheers and a round of applause while Matt had to sit there trying not to laugh himself. Everything quiets down and he just goes. "Ha. Ha." with a knowing smirk.

-In Something to Believe In, both Bronte and Michael were crying, nearly loosing it on some notes but clinging to each other the entire time keeping each other going.

-Those Brooklyn Girlsies were killing it.

-"For the final time will someone shut those Newsies up!!"

-When the strike is settled, Michael is delivering his lines to the ground as tears drip to the floor.

You could just tell all night that these guys loved this show, everyone looked deeply moved yet still kept in character despite their emotions.

Incredible.