#reminds myself that i should draw her again

[natsaffection]

Hii I’ve been a fan of your writing for awhile and loveeee it 🫣. I’ve never sent a smut request before but could you do something like, jealous nat with a totally oblivious to flirting reader. Like nat goes all “I’m gonna show you who you belong to” with reader and they’re like “no keep going I like this side of you” include like overstimulation and bondage with spanking plssss🙏🏻

LMAO it’s been rattling in my mind for a bit😭. If you do decide to write it, thank you so much!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Lesson. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Bondage, spanking, ending, begging, vibrator use multiple orgasm, overstimulating, Kinda possessive Nat 🧍🏻‍♀️

Word Count: 1,9k

A/N: I said it once, I’m saying it again..Overstimulating is my weakness..🫠

The party was in full swing at Avengers Tower, the room filled with laughter and conversation. You moved gracefully through the crowd, your charm and wit drawing people to you like a magnet. You were a natural speaker, effortlessly making jokes and compliments that made everyone smile.

Natasha, leaning against the bar, kept an eye on you. Your friendly nature was one of the things she loved most about you, but tonight a hint of jealousy gnawed at her. She noticed how people's eyes lit up when you spoke to them, how their smiles lingered a bit too long.

As you chatted animatedly with Wanda, making her giggle with one of your clever remarks, Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly. She trusted you, of course, she did, but something primitive and possessive flared up inside her.

"You always know how to light up a room," Wanda said, grinning. "What's your secret?" You laughed, your eyes sparkling. "Just being myself, Wanda. It's all about confidence and a good sense of humor." Wanda nodded appreciatively. "Well, you certainly have plenty of that."

Natasha's grip on her drink tightened. She loved seeing you happy and in your element, but tonight your interactions with others felt a bit too intimate. As you moved on to chat with Carol, Natasha decided she had seen enough.

You were just making Carol chuckle. "So, Carol, tell me more about your last mission. Did you really take out an entire fleet on your own?" Carol laughed. "Well, I had a bit of help, but yeah, most of it was me." You playfully nudged her. "Of course, it was. You're amazing."

As you moved back towards the bar, Natasha grabbed your arm and pulled you close. "Are you having fun?" she asked, her voice low and controlled but with a sharpness you couldn't miss.

You smiled and tilted your head. "Just being friendly, Nat." Natasha's grip tightened slightly. "Friendly, huh? I think you've been more than just friendly." Your eyes sparkled mischievously. "Are you jealous?" Natasha's eyes darkened, a smile playing on her lips. "Should I remind you who you belong to?“

Your breath caught, excitement flooding your veins. "Oh, I like this side of you," you whispered, leaning closer. "Remind me then, Natasha."

Natasha's green eyes burned with intensity. "You think you can flirt with anyone you want?" she murmured, her lips brushing your ear. "You belong to me. Don't forget that."

You shuddered, a mix of anticipation and desire flooding your senses. "I belong to you, Natasha. Always." Natasha's eyes softened slightly, but the intensity remained. "Good. Because I don't like sharing."

"I don't either," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. Then, with a cheeky grin, you added, "But I love seeing you jealous. It's kind of hot."

Natasha's expression hardened, and her grip on your arm became more possessive. "Oh, you're asking for it now," she growled, pulling you even closer.

Your heart raced, but you couldn't help it. "Go on. I like this side of you," you teased, your voice dripping with challenge.

Natasha's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and desire. "Is that so?" she said, her voice low and dangerous. "Then you'll get exactly what you've asked for."

Instead of heeding Natasha's warning, you pulled away with a playful grin. "We'll see about that.." you said, diving back into the crowd.

Natasha watched, her jaw clenching as you continued mingling with people. You made your way to Maria, complimenting her new tactical suit, and then to Cho, laughing over a shared joke. Every interaction was accompanied by lingering touches and meaningful glances in Natasha's direction.

Your eyes frequently sought out Natasha, gauging her reaction. You could see her knuckles whiten around her drink, the possessive fire in her eyes growing. When you finally reached Pepper and praised her leadership skills, leaning a little too close, Natasha had enough.

Natasha's anger exploded. She stormed across the room, grabbed your arm, and pulled you away mid-sentence from Pepper. "Natasha!" Pepper called out in surprise. "Excuse us, Pepper," Natasha said, her voice tense. "I need to have a word with my girlfriend."

Your heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement as Natasha dragged you into a secluded hallway. Natasha pressed you against the wall, her eyes blazing with anger.

"You think this is a game?" Natasha hissed, her face just inches from yours. "You think you can flirt with everyone and get away with it?"

Your breath caught, but you couldn't suppress the smile on your lips. "I knew it would get a reaction out of you," you said, your voice breathless. "And I loved every second of it." Natasha's grip on your arms tightened. "You belong to me. No one else has you."

"I know," you whispered, your eyes locking onto Natasha's. "And I wouldn't have it any other way." Natasha's eyes darkened further, a steely determination in her gaze. "You need to learn not to challenge me," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

Before you could respond, Natasha spun you around and began marching you towards the elevator. You rode up in tense silence, the tension between you palpable. As the doors to their floor opened, Natasha pulled you firmly towards her room.

Natasha shoved the door open and practically dragged you inside, slamming it shut behind her. She turned you around, pressing you against the wall with a fierce look in her eyes.

"You think you can challenge me and get away with it?" Natasha hissed, her face inches from yours. Your breath quickened, your excitement mingling with a hint of fear. "Natasha, I—"

"Enough," Natasha interrupted, her voice commanding. She pulled you away from the wall and led you to the bed. "You need to be reminded who you belong to."

Natasha sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you over her lap in one swift motion. Your heart pounded as Natasha's hand rested on your backside, the anticipation building.

"You will count," Natasha instructed, her voice firm. "And you will thank me for each one." You nodded, your voice trembling slightly. "Yes, Natasha."

The first smack came down hard, the sound echoing in the room. You gasped, the pain sharp and immediate. "One... Thank you, Natasha."

Another smack, harder this time. Your body jerked at the impact. "Two... Thank you, Natasha.."

Natasha's hand continued to come down, each smack leaving a burning sensation. Your breath hitched with each one, your voice growing shakier.

"Three... Thank you, Natasha..."

"Four... Thank you, Natasha."

By the tenth smack, your resolve broke, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Ten... Thank you, Natasha..." Natasha paused, her hand resting gently on your reddened skin. "Do you understand now?" she asked, her voice deep and intense. "You belong to me. No one else."

"Y-Yes..," you whispered, your voice filled with submission and arousal. "I understand. I'm sorry.."

"Good." Natasha helped you to your feet, her expression softening slightly. "Now, for your next lesson." Natasha positioned you on your back. She retrieved a set of soft but secure restraints from the bedside drawer and bound your wrists to the headboard.

"Do you remember your safeword?" Natasha asked, her eyes locking onto yours with a serious look. "Yes," you replied, your voice firm. "It's 'red.'"

"Good," Natasha said, her voice softening for a moment. "If it gets too much, you use it." Natasha's fingers glided over your body, teasing and caressing. "You've been a naughty girl," she murmured. "And naughty girls need to learn a lesson."

Your heart raced as Natasha's hands roamed over your body, teasing and caressing. Natasha's touch was both gentle and commanding, driving you almost mad with anticipation.

Natasha leaned down, her lips brushing your ear. "I'll make sure you never forget who you belong to, Detka..I’m going to love this.." she whispered.

Natasha then retrieved a small vibrator from the nightstand, turned it on, and let the soft hum fill the room. She brought it to your most sensitive spot, teasing and stroking with expert precision. You gasped, your body arching in response. "Natasha... please..." you moaned, your voice filled with need.

"Not yet," Natasha said firmly, increasing the intensity of her touch. "You'll take everything I give you." Natasha continued her relentless teasing, bringing you to the edge of release only to pull back at the last moment. You writhed against the restraints, your body begging for release. "Natasha, P-Please!!"

"Not until I say so," Natasha replied, her voice unyielding. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Natasha allowed you to tip over the edge, your body shuddering with the force of your release. Natasha continued to touch you until you were a quivering, gasping mess.

"One more for flirting with Wanda," Natasha whispered, bringing the vibrator back to your overstimulated spot. Your eyes widened, your body tensing as you were driven towards another climax. "Wait, please, I can't..." you whimpered, your voice breaking.

Natasha paused, leaning close and looking deeply into your eyes. Her hand gently stroked your hair as she spoke softly but firmly “You know you can always use your safeword, right?” You nodded, your breath catching. “Yes..”

“Good,” Natasha said, her voice softening for a moment. “But until you do, you’ll take everything I give you.” With that, she resumed her relentless teasing, the vibrator pressing against your sensitive spot. Your body convulsed with another orgasm, your voice breaking into a cry. Natasha didn’t relent, the vibrator continuing its torturous work.

“And this one is for Carol,” Natasha continued, her voice deep and commanding. “You’ll remember this.” You struggled against the restraints, your body trembling with the intensity of your third orgasm. Tears welled in your eyes, your voice hoarse from moaning.

“F-FUCK! Please! I-I get it..!” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a whisper. “One more for Pepper,” Natasha said, her tone unyielding. “You wanted my attention, and now you have it.”

Your body was a trembling wreck, your senses overwhelmed as Natasha drove you to another peak. The overstimulation was almost too much to bear, your mind reeling.

Natasha slowed her movements slightly, letting you catch your breath but never completely stopping. She lay beside you, her hand gently stroking your hair and keeping the vibrator in place.

“Do you know why I’m doing this?” Natasha asked quietly, her voice filled with a mix of authority and care, her eyes locked on yours.

“Y-Yes, please im s-sorry..” you stuttered, your body trembling with sensitivity.

“Tell me,” Natasha demanded, her fingers continuing their relentless teasing. “B-Because I… I flirted with them, to..make you jealous..“ you gasped, your voice shaking.

“That’s right,” Natasha said, her voice softening slightly as she brought you to another climax. “And you’ll remember it.”

Your body convulsed again, your screams growing louder as Natasha held you on the edge, not letting go. Each wave of pleasure was more intense than the last, pushing you beyond your limits.

“Please, I can’t… it’s too much..!“ you begged, tears streaming down your face. Natasha leaned down, her lips brushing your ear. “You can always use your safeword,” she whispered, her eyes boring into yours.

With that, Natasha drove you to another climax, your body convulsing violently. Natasha held you close, grounding you as the intense pleasure washed over you.

When Natasha finally stopped, she turned off the vibrator and released your wrists, pulling you into a tender embrace. “Do you understand now?” she whispered, her voice soft and loving.

“Y-Yes, yes i do, i-I’m sorry..” you replied, your voice hoarse. “I understand. I’m sorry..”

“Good,” Natasha said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Never forget it.” As you lay together, Natasha continued to stroke your hair, her eyes filled with a mix of love and authority.

[poppy-metal]

okay idk if this is tmi or not but i like LOVE just like grinding but like naked and like the teasing, like imagine like dom!reader taking pathetic!art’s dick and like rubbing it up and down her pussy, just like teasing him and stimulating her clit with his tip while he’s begging and crying for her to let him cum and put it in like UGHHH ITS SO HOT

yeah <333 can make yourself cum from the friction of rubbing his weepy pink tip back and forth over your clit, really - sending little bolts of pleasure through your body everytime his slit catches against the stiff peak of your nub. "oh please - please, baby - " he begs so pretty. his voice gets whiney when he pleads with you. flushed pink and watching where you rub him against you.

"what?" you ask, knowing full well what he wants - what you're doing to him. you're soaking wet. slick leaking from your cunt and you know if you slid backward he could slip inside you so easy, too.

"put me inside you. you're so wet - fuck," he tilts his head back and you see the pale column of his throat bared to you - his adams apple bobbing as he swallows his own spit, gasps his pink lips apart as you pass his head once again over your throbbing clit. "I can make you feel good. let me make you cum, baby, please -"

you clench around nothing at the sound of his voice. circling his cock against you - bobbing your hips up and down gently so his sticky head bumps and glides your button. "m'already making myself feel good. your pretty cock feels - amazing, baby." you tap tap tap him against you - your thighs trembling - "ohhhh yes - that's gonna make me cum."

he could cry. he wants to feel you cum.

"wanna feel you," he tries again. appeals, "just a little - don't you wanna be stretched out? let me in - let me fill you, baby, please. wanna spread you open -"

god, he's good. fuck.

you whine. glare weakly down at him for being shady - you should have gagged him, but then you wouldn't hear his whines.

your cunt pulses at his words - and you're close - you could cum this way - but he's reminding you how good he feels inside - when you're all worked up and wet and he just - glides right in -

your hips move on their own, sliding his cock through your wet slit until he's catching at your opening - fat crown breaching you immediately with how slick you are and you both moan - your hand leaves his base to balance yourself on his shoulders as you let yourself sink down down down -

"ohhhhhh goooood -" you whine and you start coming. eyes rolling back - "oh fuck, art - oh fuck you're so big -"

your walls spasm around him, drawing him in as you twitch and pulse and cum. his hands grip your ass, taking your moment of weakness to slam you the rest of the way down, grunting at how you clench rhythmically around him as you cum. "that's it - yes, fuck yes - cum on me - use me to cum -" he helps bounce you up and down. ride it out. "you're so beautiful."

he loves you.

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Ten - Duel at dawn

♡♡♡

Meanwhile, at the art studio, Benedict was still lingering around. Most of the artists had vacated the room by this point, but Benedict Bridgerton was still present.

"You have great potential." Henry said, coming up beside him.

"It's nothing," Benedict says sharply.

"Though, for such a staunch critic of others, you certainly lack a clear eye for your own work."

Benedict sighs. "It's the lines. Not what they're supposed to be."

"Take the compliment, Bridgerton. There is no expectation or judgement here. You left all of that back in Mayfair. You can feel free to be yourself here... if that's what you should like."

Benedict smiles.

"It's what works for me, at least. And I haven't been dissatisfied with my lines in... well, quite some time."

Benedict chuckles again. "Well, I've done worse, I suppose, really."

"Mm. Fair enough."

"I seem to have enjoyed myself too much this evening." Benedict looks around at the empty room. "I should be on my way."

"As you wish," Henry says nonchalantly. "But know you are welcome back any time for practice or even conversation."

They both chuckle.

♡♡♡

By the time Benedict gets home, Anthony and Daphne are talking very seriously in the hall. He stops and looks at his two siblings.

"What is it?"

Anthony marches over and grabs him by the arm. "You and I need to talk. Daphne, bed."

Anthony drags his brother to his study.

"I will need you to stand as my second," he says after explaining everything to Benedict.

"What if you get yourself killed?" Benedict asks. He wasn't exactly thrilled about what had apparently transpired, but even less so about the thought of losing his brother.

"Then the title and estates will pass to you," Anthony tells him.

Benedict didn't want that.

"And if you kill Hastings?"

"I shall have to leave the country, and you'll be head of the family in every way that matters."

Again, he didn't want that.

Chuckling I the hall draws their attention to the door.

You laugh with Colin as Violet hangs off the both of you. She's clearly been drinking a lot tonight. She can't even walk straight. You've never seen her so uncomposed before.

The door opens behind you, and Anthony and Benedict are standing there.

"You're clearly sover," Colin laughs with his mother.

"And I'm sober enough to know when you're being impertinent." She chuckles. "Good night, dear."

You giggle. Violet waves at you lazily, and you chuckle again at her inability to remain composed.

You turn to see the two brothers still standing there and nudge Colin. He looks at you and then at them. They wave him over.

"Good god. Did someone die?" Colin asks.

You look at Anthony, who glances at you, his sowlnt thank you for helping bring his mother home. Then your gaze shifts to Benedict, who looks at you with a strange expression. You wonder where he's been all evening.

Colin turns to you. "Get home safe, okay?"

You nod, knowing your maid was waiting outside. You watch him walk toward his brothers and then leave.

♡♡♡

You arrive early to the Bridgerton house the next morning. You had snuck out alone. You had hoped to be there early enough before Anthony left to duel the duke.

Unfortunately they had already left.

You had, however, arrived in time to see Daphne and Colin leaving. When Colin saw you he sighed.

"You cannot be serious."

"I am."

Daphne says your name as she looks at you. "You do not have to witness this."

"I want to. As your friend. I will not allow this stupid, and mind I remind you illegal, activity to take place."

Colin sighs and helps you up into his horse. "Hold on."

He spurs the horse on, leading Daphne to the agreed spot. You hold on tight to him as he rides.

All Daphne can think about is Simon.

"Anthont won't... kill him, right?" You ask, watching Daphne ride.

"No. Sound him, surely."

"Good..."

"Are you worried?" He asks.

"Yes. Are you not?"

Colin doesn't answer.

By the time you arrive within diat ne of seeing them, the two are already stood feet apart with their pistols aimed. It's Daphne who rides faster to get between them.

"Stop!"

Anthony fires his pistol as soon as she shouts, the horse his sister's on rears back and Daphne falls to the ground.

"Daphne!" Simon shouts.

"Sister!"

Both men run toward her.

Colin pulls his horse to a stop, and you both climb off, rushing to them. Benedict drops the pistol case and does the same. He doesn't have time to ask why you're here.

"Are you hurt? Tell me!" Simon demands.

"I am perfectly well, no thanks to you idiots," she says, standing up.

"What are you playing at?" Anthony asks.

"Says the man who just shot at me!"

"You just rode into the middle of a duel!"

"I require a moment with the duke," Daphne says softly.

Anthony tries to stop her, but she stops him in return. Benedict pulls Anthony back and says, "make it brief."

Daphne and Simon walk off to talk.

"What are you doing here?" Benedict asks once they're out of ear shot.

"I came to help stop this ridiculous display."

"You could have been hurt," he says.

"No one got hurt, luckily."

Benedict looks a little lost for words. You sigh and look at him and then at Anthony. The eldest looks at you and nods once, softly. His eyes then flick back over to his sister.

"We must resume before someone should find us," Anthony says to the pair.

Simon nods at him.

Daphne watches him walk and then says, "there will be no need to resume."

Everyone turns to look at her.

"The duke and I are to be married."

You look at her and then turn to the duke. You're not sure what they discussed. He stares at her.

The three brothers look between the duke and their sister.

Whatever they discussed, Daphne made up her mind.

When Simon does not speak against her statement, it becomes clear to everyone that the matter is settled.

Now you all just need to get home before someone sees you all.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen -

[ktaerssoi]

plsss kate martin angst

drunk words

kate martin x fem!reader summary: you had known kate since you were kids, what happens when you except your feelings for her?

you and kate had known each other for years, you had even gone to Iowa with her. over the years, you've developed a small crush on her, kate's amazing attitude and kindness drawing you to her. 

kate walks into your shared apartment, arms full of grocery bags. you quickly spring up from your spot on the couch to help her. "hey, successful trip?" you joke, gasping as you spot your favorite snack. 

kate laughs, closing the fridge as she looks at your excited expression. "i saw you were running low, thought i would get you some more." 

you quickly put it in your secret stash in your room, "what would i do without you?" kate shrugs, her eyes seeming to sparkle. "i dunno, probably starve." 

"oh shut up, acting as if i don't do anything by myself.." you mumble the last part, continuing to put away groceries. 

"hey i heard there's a party tonight! wanna go? i heard there will be cute guys." kate nudged your arm lightly, smirking at the thought of setting you up with someone. "plus you and i both know we need to get out more." 

"hey, i get out! plus, i don't need any guys, i have you for a reason." you cross your arms as you watch her put away the last item. "okay true," kate hums, "but I'm tired of rotting away every friday night. it'll be fun i swear. need a remind you about the cute guys?" 

you sigh, nodding. "okay, what time is it at?" you over to the clock on the wall, it reading 5:23 pm. "it starts at eight but we should probably get there earlier for the good liquor." kate winks, a grin on her face.

"i bet i could get a guy to get me a drink," she smiles, leaning against the kitchen counter. "can you shut up about the guys? that's not helping." 

kate was taken aback by your sudden attitude, but her shock was quickly replaced by a smug look. "are you jealous or something?" 

you scoff, rolling your eyes at her implication. "jealous? of what?" you tried to shrug off her idea, knowing deep down you were jealous that she wasn't talking about you like that. 

kate gives you a teasing look, smirking "yes you are! admit it, you're crushing on some girl." she gasps, giggle "aw are you crushing on me?" she teases you, playfully pushing your shoulder. 

"no kate, can't you just drop it?" you uncross your arms, walking over your bed as you try to ignore her surprisingly accurate accusation. kate laughs as she follows, jumping onto your bed next to you. "c'mon you know i won't judge, just tell me" 

"no kate, this is something i want to keep to myself." you turn on your side, facing away from her. kate frowns, a little disappointed. she stays silent for a few moments before speaking again. "okay fine, i'll drop it, but you know i always find out." 

"shut up," you mumble into your pillow, "plus how could i have a crush on you? i'm not even gay." kates eyes widen before she bursts out laughing, "good one, but we both know that's bullshit." 

you don't say anything, know that speaking would just dig yourself a deeper hole of no return. you decide to take a quick nap before the party. 

you wake up a little before seven, meaning you had about an hour to get ready. you first got dressed, throwing on something party-appropriate. realizing that kate had fallen asleep too, i woke her up. “c’mon kate, we gotta go soon.”

she got up with a groan, dragging her feet over to the bathroom. kate usually takes a little while to get ready, but she manages a good pace as she walks around the apartment. "ready,"

you stand up from your seat at the kitchen table, looking at her up and down. she looks good. "you look really pretty," kate smiles at you, causing color to rush to your cheeks. 

you point to the door, regaining your composure, "lead the way." the party wasn't far from your apartment, so the two of you opted to walk. as you got up to the house you could already feel the vibrations of the loud music. 

kate takes a look at you and grins, "alright, lets do this." you shake your head as she pulls you forward, walking through the front door. taking a deep breath, you take in the unfamiliar surroundings. people were crowding the small space, empty solo cups already littered the available surface area. 

kate quickly got caught up with people, fitting right in. you on the other hand, had made your way to a nearby wall, trying to scope out the people. you smiled as you spotted jada and gabbie, two of kate's teammates. 

the duo was taking to a group of football players, and you grabbed a drink on the way over to calm your nerves. "hey guys," jada's face lights up at your appearance, and gabbie is quick to hug you. 

"hey! we didn't expect to see you here tonight?" gabbie looked to jada, who then nodded at you. "yeah how's it going?" jada took a sip of her drink, waiting for your answer. 

"good, kate dragged me here. something about cute guys." you shrug, taking a sip of your drink. jada looks around, nodding. "yeah, i guess there are some cute guys here. they're all total douchebags though."

gabbie nods, also looking around. "speaking of our dear friend kate, where is she?" you pause, trying to remember if you saw her on your way over. "um, last i saw she was talking to some group of girls." 

jada and gabbie give each other a look, causing your eyebrows to knit together in confusion. "what?" you ask, feeling nervous almost. "nothing, it's just kate said she liked someone and we've been trying to figure out who." jada explains 

"and you think its a girl?" you take another sip of your drink, taking in the new information. why hadn't kate told you? "well she said no to every guy we said, so were out of ideas. plus it would kind of make sense" 

"how?" you were interested, maybe you did have a chance. "well you know, you guys have always kind of been like, you know." gabbie tries to explain, but you don't understand what she means. "no? i don't know?" 

"you guys have always had that kind of friend or dating type of thing." jada puts in bluntly, causing you to nod a barely audible 'oh' escaping your lips. "we're not saying she likes you though, or that we think you're like that, just, you know." 

"no, i still don't 'know'" you cross your arms, tired of people being vague. "i'm going to go get a refill," i mutter, walking away from them. 

getting over to the drink table, you run into the main topic of conversation. kate was chatting it up with a new group of people, all of which seemed to be paying a great deal of attention to her. you know it's wrong, but you're tired of seeing her with everyone but you. 

you pour yourself another drink before walking over to her. "hey kate," you mumble, squeezing in between her and some random guy from the group she was talking to. 

kate turns to you, still laughing from whatever joke the guy had said. she beamed at you, giving you a once-over. "look who it is! i was wondering where you went." 

"i ran into jada and gabbie, so i was hanging with them." you smile, and you can smell the strong scent of alcohol on her breath. kate giggles as she sees you eyeing her. "mm, well im trying to have fun too and these guys aren't the best company, you know?" 

why does everyone think you know? you turn to look at the group of guys, they're all drunk, laughing their asses off about something. "but anyway, you're here now," she murmurs, looping her arm around your waist loosely. "we can have our own fun now," 

you nod, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "yeah sure, want to go dance?" kate smiles as she pulls you to the makeshift dance floor. the alcohol had clearly relaxed her significantly, making her more carefree and touchy. 

you smile as you watch kate, she looked like she was having fun, even catching some people's attention. a few songs in a guy approaches you, "hey, i noticed you dancing over here. is that your girlfriend?" you laugh as he nods to kate. "uh no, she is just my roommate."

"oh so you're single then?" he gives you a cheesy smile as he looks you up and down. "you're really pretty, would you maybe want to go grab a drink?" you turn back to kate, seeing her talking to some other girl.

"yeah, i would love to." the guy smiles, offering you his hand. "i'm eric, by the way." he comments as he leads you away from kate. "okay, i am going to make you the best damn party drink you've ever had." eric says, grabbing a cup.

"hmm, i don't know, a shearly temple is pretty hard to beat." you laugh, watching him pour things into your cup carefully. meanwhile, kate has finished up her conversation, and is now scanning the room for you, coming up empty-handed.

"so you having fun tonight?" eric asks, handing you the cup. "yeah, it's been fun. i don't go to parties much." you nod, taking a sip of the drink he made. "really? you seem like the type to be invited to them all the time."

"i didn't say i don't get invited, i just don't come." you laugh, nodding your head as you take another sip. "you're a real stunner and you always know what to say, i like that in a girl. want to find somewhere quieter where we can talk?"

he eyes you hungrily, and you realize how much taller he is than you. "aw, im flattered but i need to finish this drink you made me! it's really good." you say, taking yet another sip.

"you could be enjoying much more than the drink if you come with me." he smiles, whispering into your ear. "thanks for the offer but i have to get back to my roommate, she's a. bit of a lightweight if you know what i mean."

"you're picking her over me? i thought we were having a good time, but i guess we have to cut it short because your friend can't handle herself." you nod, confused as to where this attitude is coming from. "yeah, i guess we will."

you walk away, trying to locate kate. you finally spot her talking to jada, a worried look on her face. "hey guys, what's up?" you say breathlessly, tired from squeezing through the crowd. kate's eyes widen as she sees you, relaxing a little. "there you are, i was looking everywhere for you. where'd you go? and why didn't you answer my text?"

"oh sorry, i was with some guy." kate narrows her eyes at your response, seeming almost mad. "'some guy?' who? and how is he more important than us? what were you even talking about" kate was mad, she was mad that you had someone else prioritized above her.

"a bunch of things, and it wasn't like we were hooking up in the bathroom, so calm down." you cross your arms, getting defensive. "he asked if i was single and you were off talking to some girl so i just said yes. he was a nice guy."

"what was his name? or did you guys not get to talking about that?" kate asked pointedly. "what is with the interrogation? i said he was a nice guy alright?" you roll your eyes, not quite sure why she was acting this way.

kate places her hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you? "hey im just trying to understand who this guy is." you shrug her hand off of you, pulling back. "okay i just told you, so can you drop it? i'm going to go get a drink."

kate flinches, her smile dropping as you brush her off. "whats with her mood?" jada asks, sitting on the couch next to kate. "shut up, dude." kate says, leaning back, resting her head on top of her head.

"fuck," you mumble as you accidentally spill a drink. you eventually clean it up. after that, not paying any mind to how you might feel the next day, you pour yourself a few more just to try and lighten your mood.

you find your way to the dance floor again, you see kate as you dance. you don't know if she sees you, but you dance as if she's watching you.

some random football player comes up to you, just making you even more ticked off. you excuse yourself, squeezing past him to go find kate. even if you were slightly upset, you weren't going to leave with out her.

kate sees you coming towards her, and her face lights up immediately. she moves to wrap her arms around you, relieved to see you again. but as she looks closer, she notices your glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, and her smile fades. "hey are you okay? you look a bit..drunk."

she pulls back from the hug slightly, gently holding your face in her hands and studying your expression. "yeah i'm fine, can we go home?" you hiccup.

"yeah, yeah for sure. hey jada we're going to head out." kate days bye to people on the way out, guiding you through the crowd with her hand on your lower back.

"sorry i'm making you leave so early." you mumble, your eyes barely staying open. "hey, it's okay. don't worry about me. i just want to make sure you're alright." she looks at you with concern in her eyes, clearly worried about your emotional state.

once you and kate get back to your apartment you quickly change, completely forgetting she was still there. "woah, hey im still here." kate says, turning around, even if she has seen you many times before.

"sorry, you can turn back now." you mutter, walking to the bathroom to wash your face. "hey, don't worry about it. It's no big deal. I just wasn't expecting you to change so quickly." she smiles softly, noticing the tear stains on your cheeks. her heart aches for you, and she wants nothing more than to comfort you

"guys suck, so much." you sigh, climbing into bed, "and i don't even like them!" kate chuckles, a mixture of amusement and sympathy in her eyes. "yeah, well you know you don't have to force yourself to like them? you don't need to be in a relationship to be happy."

you nod, still very much under the influence, "i guess, but like i don't like any men, like i just want you. why can't you want me like i want you?" you begin to doze off, "things would be so much easier."

kate's heart skips a beat at your admission, her eyes widening in surprise. she wouldn't admit it, especially to your drunk self, but she knew deep down she wanted you too.

"get some sleep, we can talk tomorrow." kate said, leaning down and brushing some hair out of your face.

notes: sooo 🌝 you asked for kate angst and i think i failed miserably but whatever! anyway, i hate this sm and it makes zero sense so i would love feedback!

[and-so-he-rambled]

Costume

(Gotham Rogue Vlad Masters)

Masterlist

“You’re going to fight Batman?” Daniel’s curious eyes peeked over the table, watching Vlad feed material into the sewing machine.

“Not exactly, I’m planning to avoid him as much as possible, but I’m sure we will cross paths.”

“Are you going to fight him with your superpowers?”

“No, remember how no one can find out we’re special? Not even Batman, he’d turn us in to the bad men.”

“Oh.” Daniel continued to watch him as he cut and arranged black material. He’d gone light on any body armour since he didn’t need it and needed the extra movement. He did have some for appearances and in case his powers still were on the fritz by the time he went out. He was getting better with time, but it wasn’t perfect.

“You should be a Badger.”

Vlad paused, looking at the child.

“Pardon?”

“A badger! Wait here!” The boy ran off, leaving Vlad staring after him.

He returned with his animal encyclopedia, plopping in on the table and pointing to a honey badger.

“You call me little badger and so Jazz showed me, I’m this one.” He pointed to the badger on the next page, a European badger. “But these ones are called Honey Badgers and they’re really cool and mean, and you should be one like Catwoman is a cat.”

Vlad thought that over. It did seem on brand for a Gotham rogue to have a theme, and while he was only planning on petty thievery it couldn’t hurt. He had gone more for the vampire look once his fangs had grown in but a badger was different enough that nobody would connect the two identities.

“I’m not calling myself Badgerman.” Daniel giggled at that, delighted. “Perhaps you’re on to something though.”

“Would you help me pick a design? I just can’t choose myself.”

Daniel’s eyes lit up in joy as he ran away to go find his drawing pad.

Jazz and Daniel worked together for the next few hours, his sister keeping him from making it too complicated. They ended up with a catsuit with a gray stripe down the back with lots of secret pockets and zippers. The mask he had to make a few alterations on, but it had a more American badger design with white down the center of the face and up the cheeks, leaving two stripes of black over his eyes. Jazz vetoed the full cape, with both Vlad and Danny complained about, but he managed to sell her on the shoulder cape.

“I can’t believe I’m going to become a two bit criminal for a giant bat.” Vlad murmered at he started in on his sixth hour of costume creation. He’d cheated with being able to change his ghost clothing at will after a few years of trial and error, this was hard. “I was supposed to be a scientist.”

Jazz was face down on the table, but she raised an arm to synthetically pat at him.

“Th’ goal is t’ avoid th’ bat.” She reminded him sleepily before falling back alseep. He took a break to bring her to bed.

The first goal when they got a payout was to get an apartment with their new identities. As much as he wanted them to stay ghosts it wasn’t feasible for the kids. They needed lives, to be children. Daniel was getting better control of his powers with daily training and eventually he might be able to go to school.

Vlad knew they couldn’t stay in Gotham forever, that once day the government would catch up to them and they’d have to disappear again, he was pretty Jazz knew it too. He needed to give them something before that happened. This time he’d spread the money into off shore accounts, they’d never be left with nothing again.

[y11irfilm]

violet – chapter 4

qimir x f!reader | chapter 1, chapter 2 & chapter 3

summary: she had no direction. a nomad who didn't choose a side. but when a vision makes her save people, she has to face her mind in the worst way possible: on a planet made of water with the man who reminds her of her past.

content: pov qimir, reader has a nickname, mention of deaths, power bond, a kind of “chosen one”, dark past, sexual tension, dark confessions, romantic feelings developing, kisses | wc: 2300+

notes: hello, another chapter of “light and darkness” (and penultimate chapter) that has now turned only violet because i wanted to change the look and it also made more sense to this name. this time, the vision will be totally the first person of the qimir, which was a mission for me but i loved doing it. i made this vision thinking totally of the feelings of a bad guy who just wanted an acolyte but found a feeling that for me should be a mess for them. — english is not my first language!

It was barely dawn when I found her on the beach.

She was wearing her nightdress, her hair was tied up and her feet were stuck in the sand.

Her eyes were closed, her breathing was irregular and her saber was in her hands. I heard her take a deep breath and let it out, her mouth gazing for seconds at the saber. She began to move the saber in slow steps, without turning it on yet.

I'd known about her ability since the forest planet case, but watching how controlled and precise her movements were, my choice was certain.

I crossed my arms over my chest, allowing myself to continue watching her until she realized my presence, which I found difficult at the moment.

She made her movements faster and faster, walking along the beach, marking her presence in the fight and sinking her feet firmly into the sand. I could feel the confusion in her mind from last night's events. She took it out on each blow in the air. She was conflicted. I let a smile appear on my face, she was becoming more connected to her power every day and allowing herself to feel her true feelings about everything around her. That was what I wanted most, the power of the two of us together against the galaxy. Desire grew in my body.

I took a step forward, then froze. I could no longer move my body anywhere. I looked up again to see if she was all right, but she was more than all right. Her left hand was raised towards me and her eyes were still closed. She was using the Force to stop me.

"Hey, jellyfish, open your eyes. It's no fun arresting someone who's not in the fight."

Its eyes slowly opened. Red. They were a blood-red shade that surprised him. How? I not only knew, but sensed that she wasn't on the dark side yet, just small steps away from a doubt I'd planted in her head a few weeks ago. Was her father as bad as he said? After watching for a few seconds, I saw them return to the dark brown I had been watching for so long.

I felt my pressure return to my body as she lowered her hand, so I began to walk until I was a few steps away from her body. I watched as her head slowly turned to the side and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Jellyfish?"

I smiled. "You seem innocent to look at, but you have dangerous tentacles. Or I may have seen you draw one of them in the sand while on one of my walks."

"It was my father's favorite sea animal. He swam with them, felt a strong connection and taught me to love them as if they were my sisters." I could feel the good taste of recalling childhood memories, she seemed at peace. "They used to call me Medusa. I miss them." I tried to find words to continue the conversation, but my thoughts were muddled. With each new piece of her past life, I become a man desperate for more and more.

"I'm going swimming."

I heard his words in the back of my mind while still stuck in the same conflicting thoughts. When I turned my head to look at her, I knew she was shining like a fucking star. I didn't remember feeling my heartbeat like that. I felt my feet take over, water getting into my clothes and my arms moving through the water towards her. I watched her sink for a few seconds and raise her body to the surface again, her eyes going towards me with a smile lighting up her face. She turned her body towards the ocean trail, moving her arms to either side and swimming away again.

"Hold on, wait a minute." I tried to keep up with her, but her nickname was true, she was a jellyfish. Medusa was born to be swimming in the ocean. I could hear her let out a few muffled laughs over the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks near the shore.

She was several meters away from me, stopping and turning her body towards me, making me stop. "Too slow for a person who lives on a planet covered in water, I'm disappointed." I couldn't remember when a smile appeared on my lips, but she noticed. "It's beautiful, it's kind. It's you." I didn't need to think to know what that meant for her. "It's a gigantic wall inside your mind, let the dark king rest for a while." Medusa slowly swam towards me and stopped a good distance away, I could feel her gaze piercing the wall. I waited for her next move, trying to anticipate and prepare my reactions. I felt drops of water splashing onto my face. She had moved her hand and splashed water on my face. Letting out a big laugh at knowing that I really wasn't expecting it.

Medusa began to walk away again, waiting for my footsteps. I just knew I had to bring her to me. I moved my arms to start swimming towards her, watched her raise her head a little and let the big laughs come out of her throat as she ran away from me. It was a beautiful sound that I wanted to hear more often.

Thoughts of a plan were emerging in my mind, and I automatically began to put it into practice. I sank into the water, using my control to avoid being found. I moved my arms quickly towards the aura I felt of jellyfish. On the count of three, I submerged back to the surface, placing my hands on his hips and pulling him to my body. "Gotcha."

Sun star. That's how I could describe his smile at that moment. "Congratulations, king." I felt a tightening in my chest. She moved her hand to one of the loose ends of my hair and tucked it behind my left ear. I felt her fingertips lightly touch my face before her hand fell back into the water. It was like a hot day, my body was burning.

The tightness in my chest continued until it was unbearable. I put one of my hands next to my chest, leaving the fabric of the robe untouched. Then I saw his irises paint a new art, but it wasn't what I had expected to see before. A violet was filling the irises of her eyes, while her smile was lighting up my heart. With one hand still on her hip, I pulled her closer, diving into her eyes.

"Why purple?" I murmured to the ocean.

She knew exactly what I was asking. "As a child, I remember hearing from the Jedi that blue represented hope and hope was them. Red was the blood of one corrupted to the steps of the dark side." Medusa slowly raised her arms, placing them on either side of my neck. The hairs on my body stood on end. I felt conflicted again. "Purple is just the combination of them. A person who lives on both sides. That's me." She murmured the words in my ear, feeling her nose move from my ear to my cheek and her lips deposit a seal on it.

My eyebrows furrowed. "When did you find out?" I saw her smile slowly disappear, replaced by a look lost in painful memories.

"When he killed her. When, when... When I saw him spit out his own blood the countless times I let the knife be plunged into his chest."

"I took his body in my arms and carried it to the ocean, swimming to them." Medusa closed her eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. The violet was still alive in her irises. "I did what my mother asked, I loved him until the last second. I let him die the way he always wanted to, alongside the countless medusozoa.

I let my hand rest on one of her cheeks, my thumb caressing her skin. I felt a wave pass us and continue with full force to the shore, I turned my face and watched the change in the sea. Medusa was controlling it. Looking at her again, she wasn't noticing her own change, living by recalling her melancholy memories.

I plunged back into her violet eyes, then to her eyebrows, her thin, upturned nose, the rosy apples of her cheeks and finally, her lips. Desire ignited every part of my body. I looked at her, letting my eyes linger on her lips. I longed to kiss her. No, my soul cried out to take her for myself. An animal was born in my chest, ready to take over every cell of her body.

Violet. She looked like a fucking goddess with those piercing eyes, trembling and alive.

"Medusa."

"Qimir."

The weeks of sharing moments in the cave. I opened my eyes as the days dawned, and she was my first sight. Her walks around the planet and my eyes following her as if they needed that to breathe in peace. Preparing food for us to eat in the silence of the ocean, while our gazes met, I couldn't keep the corner of my mouth from twitching into a half-smile as I noticed her trying to look away from the food. Sleepless nights I couldn't help but stare at her contemplating the tranquillity of the darkness, her dark brown eyes illuminating the cave sky with such admiration. "Home, yeah, it reminds me of there." Her words came out like a breath in the air, her gaze continuing upwards, seeming to be talking to someone. I knew who it was. Watching him train on the sandy beach, his feet wet from the water on the shore and his eyes focused on each blow in the air. I could feel his anger draining away in his blows.

Confused feelings. She turns me into a different man every day. A different one that frightened me. I shouldn't be confused, I knew every moment that made her the way she is, but they're moments that haven't made her even ten percent the way she is. I shouldn't be wishing for something like this, I shouldn't be feeling this way about her. But in our gazes, I didn't care about any feelings that were emerging. I just wanted her to look at me more and more.

"What's stopping you?" When she came so close to my face?

"It's going to destroy us, like your parents. We shouldn't be involved in this." I felt a wave form and hit us hard before continuing on to the rocks.

"For the guy who was going to make a massacre, that sounds funny coming out of your mouth." She wrapped her arms around my body, resting her chin on my left shoulder. Whispering into my shoulder: "A man once said that fear is a powerful emotion, when you allow yourself to feel it." I felt his face rise again and come within inches of my face. His violet eyes became my undoing. "You become free."

Those three significant words in their lives came out in one last breath of air from her. My hand went up to her face, my thumb sliding over her lips in immense devotion. My hand moved to her neck, pulling sharply and pressing my lips to hers. A guttural moan escaped my throat as I felt her hand move up to my neck, wrapping around a few locks of my hair and pulling them without any affection. My hand went down to her waist and squeezed the flesh with fervor. Running my tongue across the roof of my mouth as I devoured the tiny sounds emanating from her. The waves began to follow us each in a few seconds with their superhuman strength, but they seemed tiny for what we were feeling at the moment. I felt her other hand wrap around one side of my face, pressing my fingers together. Then I saw it.

Flashes of her running in my arms until she was in the sea, my eyes not leaving her sleeping face. She heard my voice, but couldn't understand the words. I felt a great anguish in my chest, growing with each flash in my mind. Until everything stopped and I was with her again. I abruptly moved a few centimeters away from her, still processing the images in my head.

"Qimir." She moved her hand to my face, but I swam back a few more centimeters. Regret grew in me as my eyes stopped on her hand raised in the air, watching the fingers slowly close and the hand fall back into the water. I stared into her eyes for a few more seconds before turning around and swimming to the shore. I felt her gaze pierce my back as I walked away from the beach, but I held back the urge to turn and look at her again.

I felt his presence next to my bed, lying down and his gaze piercing my back, but I didn't give up. Every second I thought about the torture of ignoring her presence, I remembered the flashes and the anguish in my chest screamed for help. I could feel her doubt growing every second in the few centimeters our bodies were apart.

Her fingers touched my upper arm and the hairs on my body stood on end at the touch. "Qimir." Her breathy voice brought me an ache I hadn't felt in decades. She moved a few centimeters closer until she was leaning her face against my back. It was unbearable to be with her and not be able to glimpse her illuminated eyes. "I can't breathe in peace with you like this." Her face pressed tightly together. "Please."

I couldn't anymore.

My body turning towards her, wrapping my arms around her and squeezing her body to mine. I didn't care about anything else at that moment, just having them in my arms. I would prevent that vision, no matter what I did.

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Wordcount- 3.1k

Notes: Sorry this one was so late, it was just not chaptering but it's here now so enjoy!

Chapter 5

My heels clicked as I walked across the stone floor. My dress swirling around in the light breeze that flowed through the opening at the other end of the room. I felt eyes on me as I walked. So many eyes. All latching onto me and following my every movement. I locked my own gaze on the horses. Beautiful creatures, tall, strong and powerful. I stopped next to the chariot I would be riding in and stroked the horses pulling it. I found myself drawn towards the one on the left. His depthless black eyes pierced my skin. I felt as if he knew everything I was feeling, everything I thought, everything I had done. I stood directly in front of him. My own eyes locked on his as I lifted my hand to stroke his face. Dark fur like velvet under my touch. He nickered quietly, hooves pawing at the ground. 

“It's okay. It's okay.” I soothe him gently. “I'm a friend, I won't hurt you.” I hold his head and stroke along his nose to calm him down as I chatter mindlessly to him. “You're very beautiful, you know. I'd love to see you free, running in the wild. I'm sure it would be a sight to behold, you in the meadows. I think you'd like that, meadows are pretty. Especially if they have lots of flowers, my favourites are the blue and purple ones. Then again you might eat the flowers.“ I frown. “I don't know if flowers are good for horses so you maybe shouldn't eat them.” He snorted as if laughing at me and I smiled before turning around and taking a step forward. Immediately, eyes were on me again, assessing, questioning, some downright sadistic- as if they were already plotting how to kill me. I shuffled nervously on my feet, putting my hands behind my back and fiddling with my fingers as I peered around curiously myself, Cashmere and Gloss were stood chatting to Enobaria and Brutus, their sneering expressions as they glanced over me giving away exactly what they were talking about. Other tributes were milling around, chatting to each other quietly, trying to not draw attention to themselves. I decided to mingle a bit, I meandered through the room, not looking directly at anyone but nodding hello or raising a hand in greeting. Without realising it I somehow ended up by the district 12 tributes, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. The winners of last year's games, the star crossed lovers. I gave them both a quick nod and turned, in doing so I lost my balance and wobbled, almost falling over but Katniss grabbed my arm and righted me. 

“Thank you.” I muttered. She said nothing in response so I thanked her again awkwardly and made to walk away. 

“Wait,” I turned to see her holding a hand out to me. “You're Y/N right. The winner of the 68th.” I nodded.

“Yes, I am.” 

“I remember the year you won. I watched your entire games. You won by killing the three career tributes didn't you.“ I shivered at the reminder and replied softly. 

“Yes.” 

“Nobody thought you would be the one to win. I didn’t either. Thought it would be the district 2 boy.” I laughed lightly. 

“That makes two of us.” I stopped for a second before continuing. “I know you don't know me or anything but for what it’s worth I’m sorry you have to do this again. You and Peeta. You don't deserve it.”

“None of us should have to do this.” Peeta interrupted. “None of us.” I quirked an eyebrow as I studied him. His face set in a stony expression. 

“You shouldn't have won either but you did and here we all are again.” I turned away from him to face Katniss again. “And what you did for your sister last year was brave.”

“What you did for Annie this year was brave.” She countered. I hummed

“How do you know I didn't do it for glory?”

“Because none of us want to go back in there.” I studied her, a sad smile on my lips.

“That's not entirely true.” She looked confused for a second and I shook my head. “Some of us want to go back in, not for the reasons you're thinking, not for glory or bragging rights. Some of us just want to protect other people.” I shook my head slightly, my hair falling over my shoulders. “Like him,” I nodded to Peeta who was petting the horses,”He wants to protect you and he didn't want Haymitch to go back in because he would have probably died.“ She gazed at me for a second. 

“So you volunteered to protect someone as well.” I stared back at her. 

“I didn't mean to volunteer. It just happened.” She opened her mouth to respond but we heard a scream of my name from across the room. I turned and was immediately enveloped in a huge hug, my face filled with coiffed hair and I spluttered as it covered my mouth and nose.  

“Effie, hair. Face. Hair. Breathing.” I stuttered out, Effie pulled away from me and gasped. 

“Oh you look so beautiful! Absolutely gorgeous!.” She grasped the fabric of my dress and inspected it closely. “The stitching is impeccable and this colour is so lovely on you.” 

“Wait a minute, how do you three know each other?” Katniss interjected.

“We met when I was in the games, Effie loved me from the start because according to her I was ‘just so adorable’ and Haymitch warmed up to me after a while. But we’re only acquaintances, very rarely see each other.” She looked sceptical but nodded anyway.

“Effie’s right kid. You look pretty incredible. They'll all love you out there.” Haymitch said from behind, patting me on the back. “How’ve you been doing?” I shrugged. “Come on, something must have happened since we last saw you. It's been what, three, four years since you refused to see us again?” 

“Four years, eight months and twenty seven days.” I muttered, looking down at the floor and laughed awkwardly. “There have been some tough moments, nightmares that you can never get rid of, but other than those I've been fine. Same as I always was. Same as I always will be.” I squinted at him. “What about you?” 

“We’ve been very busy looking after these two and making sure they are adapting well to life as victors but other than that it's been much the same as usual.” Effie chimed in, sending a glare Haymitch's way and mouthing something I couldn't discern. Haymitch rolled his eyes at her and spoke to me as she fussed over Katniss.

“You volunteered. I thought you said nothing could ever make you come back.” I looked down.

“I lied.”

“I don't know why you did it kid and I know you won't tell me because you don't get close to people if you can help it, so just,” He  sighed, ”Just try and stay alive as long as you can alright.” He patted me on the back again and went to talk to Peeta as Effie 

“I have missed you like you wouldn't imagine darling. Although I did see you dancing a few times, it was so graceful and beautiful.” She covered her mouth. “You've grown up so much. Now where is that escort of yours, Lysander?” I shrugged again. 

“Don’t know. Probably hounding Finnick or something.” Effie let out a loud sigh. 

“He really is useless. Utterly useless. And I’ve told him that before you know. But apparently my advice is meaningless! Does he even know what his job is? It’s to help you win by getting you sponsors. And ignoring you completely is not the way to help.” 

“It’s okay. Finnick has got the better chance of survival anyway, it makes more sense to focus on him.” Haymitch sent me a look.

“Do not look at me like that. I'm going to try my best but let's be honest it's not going to be enough.” I scrunched my nose up and tipped my head to Katniss. “See you out there girl on fire. It's been a pleasure meeting you.” She shook my hand.

“See you out there.”

“And you Peeta.” I called out to him. “We’ll all bump into each other again at some point I'm sure.” With that I walked off, leaving them all staring at my back in surprise. I let out a shuddering breath as I leaned against a wall, my head tipping back and my eyes shutting in a moment of peace that was over as soon as it began when they called us all to our chariots. I pushed myself off the wall and made my way back over to the horses and chariot, stroking their noses quickly before being helped up into the chariot. Dark metal and deep blue flowers at the front to represent District 4. I picked a petal and smoothed it over with the pads of my fingers, smooth and velvety. I felt a tap on my shoulder and jumped, turning to face a smirking Finnick. 

“Sugarcube?” He asked, holding them out to me. I took one hesitantly and bit into it, the sweetness spread across my tongue, coating my entire mouth. 

“Thank you.” I mumbled, sucking the rest into my cheek. Unfortunately, I finally clocked what he was wearing, or lack thereof, and almost choked on the sugar as I inhaled sharply and swallowed at the same time. I had been prepared for this to happen. But clearly not as prepared as I had thought I would be. Because there stood Finnick Odair, still smirking, biting a sugarcube with his back teeth, dressed in nothing more than a golden net tied in a knot to secure it around his waist. He was perhaps the closest thing to naked I’d ever seen a person be before, I thought to myself idly and swallowed again, the grains of sugar scratching my throat. I averted my gaze quickly as I felt heat rising in my cheeks and resolutely stared anywhere but at him. He laughed next to me.

“I didn't expect that.” I admitted quietly. “I thought you'd at least be wearing actual clothes.” I peeked at him for a second, the man was built like a greek god. All muscle and tan skin and just unfairly perfect. 

“My stylist is of the belief that the more they see of me the better.” He held out a hand towards me. “I don't think we've been properly formally introduced. I'm Finnick Odair.” My heart broke in my chest at his words but I shook his hand and whispered my own name back as the chariots began to move forwards. I smoothed out the creases in the delicate fabric of my dress and plastered a pleasant expression on my face just as the noise of the Capitol hit my ears. And we were out. Parading down the Avenue of Tributes with people cheering for us yet again, but this time multiplied by a million. It was the one event of the week that every single person in the Capitol came to see and they all blurred together in a mass of whirling colours. I smiled faintly and tapped a small raised gem sewn into the sleeve of my dress. Immediately, water began to trickle down from my tiara. It seemed to have a life of its own and left cold trails on my skin. It touched the fabric of my dress and a brilliant blue bloomed from the patch. As it trickled further down, the rest of my dress turned similar shades until the water stopped flowing and collected in a pool at the hem of my dress, dripping slightly and leaving a damp patch on the surface of the chariot. I gazed up at myself on the projections as the people went wild and threw flowers at us, hollering for our attention. The top of the dress had become a dark blue the colour of the deepest parts of the ocean and it faded into a powdery blue the colour of the flowers that had lined my mothers porch years ago. I looked like a queen of the sea. My dress was a representation of the ocean and of District 4, of my home. Megara had outdone herself and I would wear it with pride. So I waved and blew kisses to people, a smile as bright as the sun on my face. I could hear the commentary vaguely in the background. Exclamations of how they had never quite seen something like that before, how beautiful the dress was, how perfect it was for me, for their angel. Others had attempted to copy the artificial flames but compared to the original they seemed like cheap knockoffs. Hardly impressive. I could understand why Megara would use water then, to make a different statement. Fire had already been seen, it was old, except for on district 12. But water, the opposite of fire. They had never seen that before and it really helped that she was styling for our district. And yet when Katniss and Peeta emerged, dressed in a blazing inferno, I was forgotten. As expected the attention all shifted to the star crossed lovers of district 12. Not that I could blame them, they were a sight to behold, even more dramatic than last year. The chariots circled and everyone waved up to President Snow. I simply nodded my head towards him, my gaze cold. Eventually we came to a stop in a semi circle and President Snow stepped up to the podium overhead.

“Welcome all to the 75th Hunger Games. We thank our tributes for their great sacrifice. We shall be sad to see them go.” With that he sends us on our way, we roll out and back where we came from. I leapt out as soon as we passed the entry way, my dress dragging along the floor, dust sticking to the damp fabric. I saw Mags waiting and brushed past her without a glance. I walked around for a bit, the architecture of the building was so new, it was clear they had it built especially for us. It was like a fortress, cameras everywhere, the thickest glass they could have found for windows, doors that couldn't be opened unless the guard stood next to them opened them for you and white walls all around. It wasn't just a training centre. It was a cage, our cage for the next week. 

I laughed. They really didn't want us going anywhere at all. And they weren't taking any chances if they could help it. They could mask it with pretences of hospitality and wishing for us to enjoy our stay but even a blind man could see that this was a prison, and one made specifically to keep us in. I pressed a button on the wall and stepped into the elevator. Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch all greeted me with nods and Johanna grinned widely at me as we started moving upwards. 

“Well well well. If it isn't the little princess. Tell me, how's life been treating you in the Capitol?” She asked, venom dripping from each word. I regarded her silently, assessing as she stripped off her dress. She had never liked me. She thought I was just some pretty little doll that the Capitol kept and never touched. They all thought that though, each and every victor knew I danced and sang and that was it. They had never been so wrong in their lives. But who was I to tell them that? It's not as if they would listen to anything I had to say. 

“Life has been,” I paused, “It's been wonderful.” I watched her eyes darken with anger as she pulled off the last of her dress, leaving it in a heap on the floor. She quickly turned to Katniss and Peeta, flashed a cat-like grin.

“Thanks. This has been fun, we should do it again sometime.” With that she flounced out of the open doors. Haymitch whistled.

“Thank you.” Katniss sent him a disgusted look and I disguised a laugh with a cough. As much as I disliked her I could admire her. She was everything the Capitol didn't want her to be and the looks on Katniss and Peetas faces were something. She was confused, he was almost impressed and Haymitch was just like me, trying to not laugh out loud at their reactions

“Johanna Mason, district 7. Won the 71st games by pretending to be weak and then killing the remaining tributes with her axe. Delightful girl.” I rolled my eyes.

“Except for if she hates your guts. So try and get her to like you.” Peeta glanced at me.

“What do you mean?”

“If I know one thing about Johanna Mason, and I think I do. It's that she doesn't care about anyone or anything. And I'm pretty sure she has a hitlist and I'm number 1 on it.” 

Before they could answer, the doors opened again and they all got out without a word, leaving me alone to go down again. I leant against the glass, looking out to see peacekeepers crawling about like insects, escorts rushing around for no reason whatsoever, tributes and mentors staying well away from the two former as if they were the plague. The doors pinged open and I made my way down the corridor. I pushed through the double doors and was met with expectant looks from everyone. Mags, Lysander and Finnick all sat at the table. 

“I'm not hungry.” I said quickly before they could even ask me to sit. 

I practically ran to my room and threw myself on the bed, silk sheets scrunching up under my weight. The door clicked open and I looked up to see Megara standing there with an eyebrow raised.

“They want me to convince you to come out. But I've got better plans for tonight.” She pulled out two tubs of ice cream and a plate of intricately decorated cakes and biscuits. She set them down on the table and waved me over. 

“First of all, get changed. There's clothes in the drawers. Second, by my logic if they really wanted you to sit and eat dinner with them they would do it themselves. Third, I brought food,” She picked up a spoon and dug into a tub of ice cream, “And I'm not waiting for you to start. Plus,” She grinned, teeth coated in chocolate,”I want to know everything.”

Taglist:

@nekee-lilac02 @hinata7346 @bambikitten @the-lonely-abyss @mxacegrey @m-maxie-ie @not-aya @camatchoum @maw1dk @avoxrising @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @somdreamy @thehairington86 @millzluvrs @val-writesstuff @erindiggory @reader-bookling123 @elisa20beth @maxinehufflepuffprincess @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @mystargirl-interlude @ponkaniee @missunicorn @thatonegayloser616 @livibbu @cherrsnut @honethatty12 @purplelavin @user123453226780536 @littleanubis21

[marciaillust]

How long does it take for you to finish drawing?

I'm an artist (beginner) and i unconsciously set unrealistic goals for myself and need a reminder of how long it takes to complete a drawing, Thanks.

Hi! In the context you presented it in, that is a really interesting question, so I'll try to approach it thoroughly. I hope I won't make you roll your eyes too much.

Where to start, where to start... I guess the first thing I should say is that there is a difference between time I spend preforming the action of <drawing>, and the time I spent <working> on a particular piece. The first would be counted in hours, the second one - days. I'm a big believer in slowing things down, and giving things time - going through options, gathering research and references, taking breaks every 1h of sitting and drawing - and seeing things through until I achieve the goal I set at the beginning of the process.

The goals are usually different each time: "quick design", "character exploration", "analysis of an artist's linework and experimenting with the knowledge gained", "creating an aesthetically pleasing image", and so on and so forth. Of course I don't write these down like it's a school assignment, but knowing in the back of my head what I'm actually doing helps me manage my expectations. I also enjoy being conscious of why I create - when I was younger regardless of what I was doing I had the thought "AND IT MUST LOOK GOOD AND PRESENTABLE! BECAUSE PEOPLE WILL LOOK!" ...and I think that obsession is the cancer of creative process.

Since the goals for each picture are different, the time I'll spent on achieving each one will be different as well, because the "satisfactory results" lay in different places. For example, the Marcile sketchpage was created in one afternoon, and took approximately 3 hours. The goal was to play around with a brush that has no opacity forcing my lines to be more decisive. I did that and so it is "finished". There's nothing else I want from it.

On the other hand, the cover of Asterism took about 10 days to create, the goal of which was to make "an aesthetically pleasing cover picture taking colour inspiration from the works of (specific list of artists)". I took my time designing it so that it looks aesthetically pleasing, made sure the anatomy is "correct" (a nebulous statement when it comes to stylised humans), took my time masking, and picking colours, and shading. I wanted it to "look good" to my own eyes so if something was not working I would go back, change it, alter it, move it around... that's the wonderful thing about personal art, you can take as long as you like making something satisfactory.

The funny thing is, with what the Asterism cover actually is (a cellshaded image), it could have been done probably in 4 days by the me 4 years ago. But that person was willing to sit 8-10 hours a day to draw with no breaks, she had little social life, and treated herself as a little circus seal performing tricks so that people clap around her, and the clapping was soooo nice because it meant that people remembered her and she mattered. And it worked for her! For long 10 years! Until her arm gave out, and the reality of never being able to draw again became more tangible than ever, and it's been following her like a fog ever since for the past 4 years. The me today works about 4 hours a day and every hour I take about a 30 minute break. I also don't post half the stuff I draw. There is also another aspect that dictates the speed of creating and that is familiarity with the subject matter. The less you know something, the fast you'll draw it! But as you get to know the intricacies of the process, and see all the building blocks, it will start taking *longer* because you will start accounting for every block. But then you'll eventually get familiar with the blocks and so the time spent on a picture will go down again! The cool yet overwhelming thing about art is that, there are always hundreds of building blocks. Form, composition, ambient occlusion, saturation, hue, light balance, line form...... and those are just the *some* of the generalised *categories*. And each category will have it's own subsection of building blocks! And then those blocks will interact with each other to create completely new area of expertise! This is crazy! Marcille sketch page took me only 3 hours to create because I am already quite familiar with linework - I have drawn 3-4 comicbooks worth of linework. This also means I am familiar with believable anatomy, more or less, which got utilised in the Asterism cover - the main bulk of linework got created during a 3h livestream. So.... what's the answer.... "It's all relative" is so unsatisfactory and probably not what you looked for. But you can draw something in 3 days and kill your body over it. Or you can become an expert in a field and dish the same picture out effortlessly in 8 hours. You can also split that 8h block over multiple days bringing you back up to 3 days. You could even add a whole day of visual research which might make your picture only marginally better. And even if we calculate it in terms of raw working time, pen-to-paper, like a self-inflicted capitalist tumor, that time can fluctuate still due to personal visual library and knowledge base. If I asked Tom Fox how long it takes for him to create his sketch pages his answer would probably be downward of 30 minutes. Yet I need whole 3 hours to create something *less* anatomically correct than him. And so here we are at the end of this perhaps unnecessary essay. And all we learned is this: it depends. Dry, not nuanced tl;dr, my personal timings: single sketch - 30mins; single linework pic 1-2h; Cellshaded illust - 16h; Rendered illust: 20-25h.

[callsignfate]

Valeria x Chaotic wife Pt. 6

(Thank you for voting to anyone who did! This is what had the most votes, so here you go! Enjoy!)

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three/ Part Four/ Part Five

Part Six/ Part Seven/

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

R/N yelling upstairs and charging downstairs: Valeria Garza! You did fucking not!

*Valeria stops walking, thinking for a moment on what she could be yelling about*

Valeria ducking into a room: *under her breath* Fuck.

R/N appearing behind her: VALERIA GARZA.

Valeria: *startled jump*

R/N: YOU WATCHED SEASON TWO WITHOUT ME?!

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Valeria looking at the whole room she had to give up for the massive amount of things you collect: ...I should have known she was weird when she wasn't scared I was kidnapping her.

R/N who's putting up another collectible: What was that?

Valeria: Nothing.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

R/N: I'm mentally exhausted.

Valeria: it was one needle.

R/N: and I'll never be doing that again.

Valeria: I can't believe you bit me and kicked a nurse.

R/N: SHE WAS COMING AT ME WITH A RANDOM NEEDLE!

Valeria: IT WAS TO DRAW YOUR BLOOD TO MAKE SURE YOUR OKAY!

R/N: Never again.

Valeria: Yea, because next time I'm sedating you myself.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Valeria: Remind me again. What in God's name are you doing?

R/N sitting on Valeria's lap and playing on her switch: Trying to find a better villager, this one's ugly and he's gotta fucking go.

Valeria watching you slap a villager with a net and put them in a hole: And you say I'm ruthless?

R/N: GET OFF OF MY ISLAND!

Valeria: What the fuck.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Valeria watching you following around one of her men and talking his ear off: I'm kinda almost glad it's not me.

R/N: So it's a cult game where your a baby sheep right? I named myself the blood God.

Valerias men nodding along while they text Valeria that 'they don't get paid enough for this': that's amazing.

R/N: It is!

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

R/N: Val-

Valeria with her eyes closed in bed: It is five am, I don't have the crayons nor the fucks to entertain you yet.

R/N: ...Alright...

Valeria: Why do I smell fire

R/N: see I was trying to make you breakfa-

Valeria now sprinting towards the kitchen: FUCK.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

R/N holding a baby: You are kind of cute, I guess.

Valeria: I don't have the facilities to make one of those, so where did you get it.

R/N: One of your men's wives had a baby and they brought her in to see him.

Valeria: Give it back before you want one.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

R/N: I think you need a vacation...

Valeria who looks a mess and is actively having a breakdown: You don't say.

R/N watching her swear and lose her mind while she vents in Spanish: I'm.. sorry?

Valeria: You knew what I said?

R/N: IT WAS ABOUT ME?

Valeria: ...Only half of it.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

“And the relative simplicity of her music works with people who just want something mindlessly play in the background. It's also really easy for average people- who have no musical background- to sing along with. The lines are simple rhymes, and she never really uses any specialized vocal techniques like Vibrato. Basically, it's music for bland people who think salt is a spice.”

Some of your takes are valid and it’s healthy to critique anything that amasses such a large following in pop culture. However I would argue there is a way to do this without coming across as a pretentious undergraduate who read a few required and recommended readings from the syllabus and now sips their tea with a pinkie protruding. Let’s remember that tumblr is not inherently full of academics and defining anyone who hasn’t got a certain level of education as average or bland is such an Americanised, my way or the highway way of thinking.

It is possible to have differing opinions to others without insulting their intelligence or falsely presenting them in a certain way. Average people as a term in general, is quite elitist and classist. For example, I have a PHD in literature and am a classical musician. I work in publishing and academia.

That said, I still enjoy pop music, sometimes something can just be enjoyable and it’s not that deep.

Criticising Taylor Swift is low hanging fruit for a lit major who claims to be allied with as many causes as yourself. Or, if you do decide to continue with it, I hope you do it in a more articulated manner that focuses more on the quality of your arguments, and not just an assumption that those who oppose you are stupid or “bland” when I suspect the truth is much more complex than that, as it always is.

Best of luck with further studies. I hope to see more diverse content from you in the future, maybe some literary analysis of contemporary texts, or other artists who you deem intellectual enough to enjoy, or some recommendations.

Honestly- I do not know with which tone I should address this anon. I cannot tell if you are being hostile- but I certainly feel that you are being condescending.  

Thanks for at least direct quoting my words with which you draw issue. I appreciate it- some people send me critiques but fail to outline which of my posts is the problem.  

I can capitulate to exactly one of your points- and admit it is a good point- that I am overly sassy on occasion. The post you are angry about is just me chitchatting with someone about Swift’s live shows- it wasn’t a literary analysis. I cannot do an academic analysis of her live shows- but that does not mean I don’t have an opinion of them.  

Again- it was opinion not argument or analysis. Not a serious post. This is not a blog where I am going to speak like an academic all of the time. I’m here to have a little fun- and try to remind myself why I actually do love what I do for a living.

Generally speaking- I will try to make a more obvious, clear difference between what is just an opinion and what is a researched, literary argument on Taylor Swift in my future posting. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.  

There are some other things about your ask that I want to address, because it struck me as a bit unnecessary.  

You say that I’m “coming across as a pretentious undergraduate who read a few required and recommended readings from the syllabus and now sips their tea with a pinkie protruding” (para. 1). This is condescending. No, I did not simply “read a few required and recommended readings” to complete my education. You say you’ve got a PHd in the same discipline- and yet you want to tell me all I did for my degree was read a couple of books? You should know the kind of intellectual work that goes into real literary study. I am trying to show people with this blog, at least in some small way, that while literary study is not so straightforwardly quantifiably valuable like, for instance, physics- it is still a real discipline. With real requirements on argumentation and logic. It takes intellectual skill to wrestle with concepts in literary theory – but more so to apply them in synthesis and interpretation of textual evidence.   

SO, why are you essentially patting my head and saying “aw-cute she read some books and now thinks she’s smart?”   

To be clear- I am not in undergrad. I have finished two different degrees and am currently working on my third.

Why would you accuse me of classism and elitism predicated solely on a bad joke in a post wherein I am not even doing any real literary analysis? What prompted that? I made no effort to even pretend the post in question was little more than opinion- my real posts however, about literary analysis, I take great pains to research and edit those together with care.  

Also, “Americanized” what? Are you American? Because people ‘round here don’t care about what level of education you’ve got? The access to education varies remarkably state to state- and down into Latin American too- and we all know it. So, there is very much a culture of “help each other out when struggling” and not a culture of thinking that everyone of Earth needs to go through American University in order to matter. What are you talking about? Do you think American’s hold the monopoly on having Dogmatic views or “my way or the highway” thinking? That’s obviously not true- so what are you trying to say here?  

Did you miss the part of my Bio where I talk about being a teacher? I am a teacher in one of the poorest- most unfunded places in the country. My friend- I am repulsed by the idea of classism- I take my position in my community very seriously. Knowledge is not a stick with which I attempt to beat others down- Please understand that.  

Next, you say it is possible to critique without insulting people’s intelligence (para. 2). um, I did not insult anyone’s intelligence? I said their taste in music was bland, which does not correlate to an assumption on their intelligence. Um- I have also said many times that I like simple pop- music. Am I calling myself stupid because I’ve been listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter on repeat? NOpe. It’s just a silly little song- and dancing to it makes me feel cute, young and free- but it’s still a bland song with no literary or moral value. What exactly is the problem here?  

Okay, within this same point you draw issue with my use of the word average, saying that “average people, as a term...is quite elitist and classist” (para.3). Okay, you misinterpreted my use of the word “average” here- as I was not referring to people as “average” because they have no education, or a different education compared to my own. I was only using the term in the most colloquial sense- meaning “in general” or “on average” as in the median percentage of people have no musical background- therefore they find simplistic pop music the easiest to digest and the simplest thing to play in the background or sing to on car trips. It’s pleasing to the ear because we don’t have too much “work” into understanding it- that's what I mean when I say it’s bland. 

If oatmeal was a type of music- it would be pop music. bland filler- but you know it can still be good.   

Okay, let’s talk about your final point “Taylor Swift is Low Hanging Fruit” (para. Whatever I can’t be bothered to count). Ummm? A billionaire musician who has massive worldwide acclaim and social impact is “low-hanging” to you? I mean yeah- she's clearly not worth study through the lens of poetical semiotics, or God forbid- Linguistic Morphology; however, there are several different ways a good analysis of her work could function- through feminist, Marxists, Post-colonialist, or anything under the umbrella of cultural studies. I also intend to do a rhetorical analysis on her use of “lower class” aesthetics and how that attracts the audience she wants. And, I’ve done a couple of syntactical analyses. However, I had to prop those up with a dichotomization of her work to someone with more impressive literary value, like Kendrick Lamar, because her work alone is not strong enough for that type of analysis.  

Apologies if I have written a return, you did not expect or want- perhaps, I should be less sensitive on the internet. I do often brush off people's condescension, especially when I notice that they are extremely young or just do not know anything at all about my field of study. Because why worry about uninformed opinions? I wanted to speak with you, however, because you do care. It is obvious, and I am glad that people do care. I admire you for caring about the integrity of the discipline- but I really wasn’t doing what you thought I was doing.  

 I admire anyone who also studies Literature, and you say you’re a classical musician, I think that’s so impressive! I love classical music! Rachmaninoff makes me feel insane! I love it! You know that one O’Hara poem? The one that is an ode to Rachmaninoff’s birthday that ends “you’ll never be mentally sober” because I feel that line in my bones. And don’t even get me started on Tchaikovsky- Truly, you might never hear the end of it. (CAnnoNS!!!!??? what a guy)

 I just wanted to clear up anything that you found offensive- but I also defended myself because you do know what I’m talking about when it comes to literary study- and so the conversation took priority over the other meaningless “hate” messages I get. And- boy howdy- I've been getting hate messages pretty much daily. 

Promise to no longer be condescending to me and I think we ought to be friends and not fight- let me start- what did you concentrate on for your PHd? 

 I, myself, focus on post-colonialism, feminist theory, and post-modernist thought in American Literature. I work mainly within US Multi-ethnic literature, though, outside of school, I have an intense fascination with medieval or ancient Literature- primarily, these days, classical Sanskrit poetry. Last year it was an obsession with old Norse literature- lol I like to switch things up. Have you ever read the Heliand? It’s about Viking Jesus- so cool and written in old Saxon! But, anyway, I think the unique prosody of Sanskrit is so neat-o. My other obsession is this one old french poem called "le roman de silence" what a crazy little gender-bending 13th century thing that is (haha). And this doesn't even get into my philosophical preoccupations- though I believe I will discuss those on my blog, too, at some point.

Anyway- perhaps I will talk about my more niche interests on this blog- all good things in time. I have no interest in solely focusing on Taylor Swift forever- but I do want to finish saying all the things I’ve been holding back for years. I think it’s important- because Swift holds such a massive influence over people. It’s healthy, as you said, to critique people like that.  

Okay- Sorry I talked soo long. Peace Out :)

[ravennaortiz]

August 2nd is Juice with the prompt "There is a reason I don't celebrate my birthday". Requested by a lovely Anon. As always my stories are 18+

I thought she would like this thought Juice to himself as he collapsed onto the floor outside of your bedroom door. He knew it was unlocked but had decided against going in. You had not responded to his knocks or request to enter. He knew from the way your eyes had shown with tears and your lip had trembled when you entered the house that you were upset.

For the life of him he wasn't sure why though. He had surprised you before with trips and gifts. He figured a house full of friends for your birthday would be greeted with joy and happiness. He had spent weeks planning the perfect day for you. Everything from breakfast in bed to a day out on the water surfing to a surprise party once you got home.

Streamers and balloons of your favorite colors decorated the whole of the house. Your favorite foods, drinks and birthday cake had been made to perfection. He had been sure of it. You deserved to have the best day ever but yet somehow he had fucked it up.

"Aye Juicy boy. Ye want us to clear out?" inquired Chibs quietly as he entered the hallway a few minutes later. Juice sighed as he looked up. "I don't know. Probably. I'm not sure anymore. We were having such a good day.....I don't know what happened" admitted Juice as he rubbed his face with his hands.

Before anything else could be said the door opened and he fell in at your feet. "Could we talk" you murmured as you sniffled. Your eyes red and puffy and your makeup running down your face. Juices heart broke as he looked up at you but nodded as he sat up when you crouched down to sit next to him.

"I will give you two a few minutes" stated Chibs before heading back the way he had came.

"Tell me what I did wrong babe" murmured Juice as he grabbed your hands as he watched you closely. "Nothing. It's silly. I'm an adult and should be over it" you started as you shook your head and sighed. "I'm sure its not silly. Talk to me" encouraged Juice. "There is a reason I don't celebrate my birthday. Well lots of reasons honestly. This is my fault for never bringing it up. I usually just get the guy to break up with me before my birthday so it's never been an issue before" you rambled as you looked anywhere but at the man you had grown to love over the last ten months.

Juice frowned but waited patiently for you to speak again. "So you know how I don't speak to my family anymore?" you asked looking down at your hands. Juice nodded. It was something you had mentioned on one of your earlier dates. The two of you had bonded over your unique family situations. You had been no contact with yours since you turned eighteen.

"My parents and sister made it clear I was not wanted. They called me a mistake and I was left more often than not to fend for myself. My birthday was always treated as a day to tease, belittle and physically hurt me on occasion. Some years they would trick me into thinking things would change but they never did. My sister always got to use my birthday as her half birthday. So while I was being hit, starved and locked in a cage in the basement. My sister was getting presents, cakes and pony rides." you explained keeping your eyes down as tears started to fall again.

Juice could feel his temper started to flare at your words but kept it contained. He would do some looking into your family. They would pay. Right now he needed to reassure you that would never happen. "I'm sorry that happened to you. I promise my only intent today was to shower you with love and show you how special you are not only to me but to others" started Juice as he lifted your chin up gently. "I'm sorry that you were reminded of your past. I promise you that will never happen again as long as I breathe" he added as he wiped your tears with his thumb.

"Wait here. I'm going to have everyone head out and then I'll draw you a bath okay?" offered Juice as he started to stand. "Actually.....I...I would like...to try having a birthday party. If that is okay" you stammered as you laughed nervously at the silliness of it all. "Of course. I'll let everyone know you will be back out in a bit" stated Juice with a grin as he helped you up and gave you a kiss before heading down the hall.

Return to Masterlist

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 [𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒]

PAIRINGS — Violet Bridgerton x Marcus Anderson

SUMMARY — Marcus' children are finally in town, and Violet finally gets the chance to meet them.

WORD COUNT — 5.2K

WARNINGS — some descriptions of anxious behaviours throughout

NOTE — Again, as promised, here's another fic of these two lovelies! In two parts (for two reasons), but also mainly just to keep you on your toes ;) not me finally posting this like a month after writing it

Violet could have sworn the lump beginning to form in her throat was her heart, making its way out of her chest to remind her of the sobering reality of what was before her. She paced back and forth in the main entry hall of Danbury house, her hands firmly pressed against her stomach to try and suppress her lunch that was attempting to make a reappearance. 

Her thoughts swirled in her head, like a tornado beginning to form, threatening to destroy everything in its path. It had become so all consuming, that she didn’t notice two pairs of eyes watching carefully over her from a distance, voices hushed and concerned. 

“I have never seen her like this before,” Marcus whispered to Agatha, who had pursed her lips and gripped onto the head of her cane tightly as she watched her friend continue to pace. 

“She is nervous.” 

“I can see that,” Marcus rolled his eyes at his older sister’s obvious comment. 

“Then why are you standing here?” 

She looked up at him with a piercing glare. 

“Trust me, my voice is not the one that will soothe her right now,” she added, this time a little softer. 

Marcus nodded his head and carefully made his way out from the hallway where they were conveniently hidden from Violet’s view. Agatha turned around and made her way to the drawing room, giving them some much needed privacy.

Violet did not notice Marcus making his way towards her. He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, but she yelped and jumped back, her hand moving from her stomach to her chest to now steady her erratic breathing. 

��I-Marcus,” she breathed. “I am sorry, you startled me.” 

She resumed her pacing, her hand retreating back to her stomach, the other patting her hair to ensure everything was neatly in place. She clearly didn’t realize Marcus was there for her. 

“Violet?” 

She spun around at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide and owlish, her nervousness seeping from every pore and creating a thick fog of anxiety around the room. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” 

This had become common practice over the past months. Marcus didn’t ever bother asking what was wrong, but instead dropping all such formalities and heading straight to the root of the problem, allowing her to process if she so wished, and oftentimes, she did wish to. 

“I suppose, maybe we should…before going in there.” 

Her eyes drifted towards the drawing room and she gulped, almost audibly.

“It is just…” her voice drifted off, like she was going into a trance staring down the hallway that seemed to get longer and longer with every passing second. 

“It is just, what, my dear?” 

Violet closed her eyes as the sound of his rich and velvety voice made its way to her ears, dampening the unease that surrounded her. 

“I do not know what I am to do, Marcus. Do I stand? Do I sit? How do I introduce myself? Must I explain our situation?” She rambled and began pacing again, only for Marcus to close some of the distance between them, taking her shoulders in his hands, first, to stop her, before tracing them down her arms and holding her hands in his. 

“Violet, Violet, Violet,” he repeated, pulling her out of her continued ramblings, her voice quieting as she looked up at him. 

“What if they do not like me?” she whispered. 

Marcus looks down at their intertwined hands, his thumb brushing over the betrothal ring, tracing the jewel at its centre, something purple for his Violet. 

“I find it quite hard to believe they would dislike you,” he began. “After all, I like you very much and they are my children. Perhaps we should think that they take after their father in this manner.” 

“Marcus, that does not-” 

“Violet, look at me, please.” 

She silenced herself and looked up at him, her blue eyes big and shimmering with worry. 

“You are a wonderful woman who is kind, and cares for others in a way I did not know was possible until I met you. My children are not unreasonable people, they wish for me to be happy, and I am most happy when I am with you.” 

Violet swallowed thickly and nodded her head. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too.” 

She pushed herself up on her toes to give him a quick and gentle kiss, hoping the familiar feeling of his lips against hers would quell whatever remaining insecurities she held close to her heart.

“Are you ready to go in there, or do you need another moment?” He asked, his thumbs continuing to brush soothingly over her fingers. 

“One more moment,” she whispered, leaning a little closer to him, and he complied by wrapping his arms around her in a quiet embrace, knowing at this point no one was watching, and nobody cared. 

Violet took one last deep breath and thanked Marcus, informing him she was now ready to head over to the drawing room. 

He offered his hand for her, which she took, and allowed him to lead her down the hallway and into the room she had been avoiding all afternoon. 

When she entered, there was a quiet chatter that hushed immediately, and she became very aware of the many pairs of eyes that seemed to burn into her very soul. Marcus sensed her nervousness returning, and squeezed her hand, bringing her back to the present. 

Everyone in the room seemed unsure of what to do, which is when Agatha decided to helpfully interject.

“Did your father and mother not teach you any manners? You are adults, go on, introduce yourselves,” she pointed to her nephew and two nieces with her cane. 

The younger girl stood up first, one hand moving to rest on her growing stomach while a radiant smile came across her face. Violet couldn’t help but notice how much she looked like her father, the same shining eyes and welcoming disposition. 

“Amelia Kilpatrick, my Lady,” she attempted to curtsy and Violet quickly let go of Marcus’ hand to encourage her back up. 

“Oh no, none of that, my dear,” Violet shook her head. “I have had eight children, I know how heavy they can be, please let us excuse such formalities.” 

“Of course, my Lady,” she smiled. “It is good to finally meet you.” 

“And you as well,” she agreed, feeling her nerves slowly begin to melt away. 

Next was who Violet assumed was the eldest of the bunch. 

“James Anderson. A pleasure to meet you.” 

Violet held out her hand, initially to shake, but James took it and pressed a kiss to its back and she could have sworn she could feel a bashful heat rise to her cheeks. 

“Likewise,” she nodded. 

Lastly, a more timid woman whose curls simultaneously framed her face and seemed to know no bounds, which had Violet mesmerized. She couldn’t see too much of a similarity between her and Marcus which made her assume she looked more like her mother. Softer, large brown eyes, thinner lips, a pointed nose. 

“Evelyn Jacob, my Lady,” she said quietly and quickly curtsied, struggling to meet her gaze. 

Violet looked back at Marcus, but he shook his head assuring you this was normal. Perhaps she just took time to warm up. 

“Wonderful to meet you.” 

Violet gave her a smile which she wasn’t entirely sure Evelyn saw before retreating back to where Marcus stood and Agatha was sitting. 

She and Marcus took seats, near one another, but not quite next to each other and silence fell over the room once more.

“Uh Amelia,” Marcus began. “Will Seamus be joining us?” 

“He had some affairs to take care of, I’m afraid,” she sighed. “I was hoping he might make it back in time, but it seems business takes longer and longer these days.” 

“W-Will you be in London when you have the baby?” Violet asked and Amelia nodded her head. 

“My husband and I thought it may be nice to be around our family. Especially now that Papa and Aunt Agatha have reconciled. It is a special moment to share together.” 

“I could not agree more,” Violet nodded her head, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

“And we could not miss the wedding.”

Violet smiled, but shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She wasn’t sure why. She was getting married and she was most excited, so why did she feel the need to squirm? 

“How did you both meet?” James asked. “We have heard a lot about you in letters from my father, but not quite the details on how everything came to be.”

Violet looked over at Marcus and noticed his eyes were already on her. The warmth behind his irises muffled her worries enough for a moment so that she could speak, but unable to tear her gaze away from her fiancé. 

“I dropped my glove,” she began, “at a ball and he picked it up.” 

“And the rest is history,” Marcus smiled. 

“Well not quite that quickly,” Agatha teased. “I do recall getting in your way once or twice.” 

“I thought we had moved past that,” Marcus looked over at his sister who simply smiled with a bit of cheek. 

“We have, but no story is without its obstacles,” she tapped her cane on the ground. “And I was not the only one keen to get in your way.”

Violet cringed thinking back to the time before she and Anthony were able to have a proper conversation about her relationship with Marcus. She always knew he was protective over their family, but she didn’t realize the extent until she was in the middle of it herself. 

“Your aunt refers to my eldest son,” Violet decided to share. “He had concerns, naturally, but unfortunately had a very… interesting way of expressing them.”

“So we are talking about this now,” Evelyn quietly muttered under her breath and Violet tensed up. 

“Evelyn,” Marcus chided. 

“N-No Marcus, it’s quite alright,” Violet looked over and gave him a polite smile. “Evelyn, may I call you that?”

She finally met Violet’s gaze, some of her shyness now gone and replaced by something colder and harsher. 

“There is clearly something that is not sitting right with you,” she said slowly. “If you are willing to share, I would like to know what it is.”

Evelyn looked over to her siblings, seeing the confusion in their faces and understanding that she would not be getting the support she thought she would get from them. 

“Everyone is so concerned over what my father’s intentions are with you, but has anyone ever asked what your intentions are with him?” she asked cooly.

“Tone, Evelyn. You can still be polite,” Marcus advised and she apologized. 

“I do not think I have been asked that yet,” Violet said truthfully. “M-May I ask what you think my intentions are?” 

Evelyn looked over to Amelia who seemed to send her a warning glance, not to continue down this road, but she did not listen. 

“You are a widow, are you not? Your eldest son is married now. It must feel quiet and…boring.” 

“Evelyn!” her sister attempted to interject and Violet steeled herself for what other sharp words were to come. 

“Before you were able to take on the role of Viscountess, and from what I hear you did your job quite well, but that position is no longer yours,” Evelyn continued. “It makes sense that you would be looking for a husband now and how convenient that my father was there, hopeful and looking for someone to share the rest of his life with.” 

“Evelyn, I think that is enough,” James whispered over to his sister, but her quietness had since completely vanished and was replaced by a fire in her eyes. 

“I do not believe that you love my father.” 

Violet took a deep breath, her hands placed firmly in her lap. The unrelenting swirling in her stomach had since returned and she knew she couldn’t stay in that room any longer. 

“I am sorry you feel that way,” she said quietly. “Marcus, Agatha, thank you so much for having me, but I think I should go now.” 

Violet stood up and rushed out of the room, not noticing the look of shock on Marcus’ face as he looked at his middle daughter before quickly standing up and assuring Agatha he would go take care of Violet if she would do the honour of staring down Evelyn until he returned. 

“Violet,” Marcus called. “Violet, wait.” 

Violet forced herself to stop, knowing an abrupt departure would not be fair for either of them. Marcus caught up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her around and noticing how she desperately was trying to fight back the tears welling in her eyes. 

“Marcus, I’m sorry, I-I need to leave.” 

Marcus pressed his lips together, a hand moving to rub the back of his neck. 

“Let me talk to her,” he said. “At least. Then we can speak again.” 

Violet nodded her head. 

“I-” 

She couldn’t say it, not after what Evelyn had just accused. 

“I know, I know,” Marcus assured and pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tightly, his lips pressing a comforting kiss to her hair.

His daughter’s reaction had caught him completely off guard. He knew this was exactly what Violet had feared and he had led her into it without warning. 

After a few moments, Violet let go of Marcus and began to make her way to the door, but not before he gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his arms for a tender kiss. He hoped, if anything, it might assure her that his feelings towards her would always remain the same, no matter what was said, and that he still had hope that Evelyn could be reasoned with.

Marcus wiped away a few of Violet’s tears that had escaped, his forehead pressed against hers, both of their eyes closed and soaking in the proximity the moment afforded them. 

“Deep breaths. This isn’t the hardest conversation we’ve had to have,” Marcus assured and Violet couldn’t help but chuckle with a little bit of mirth. 

Violet sniffled and wiped away her remaining tears, her hands pressed against Marcus’ chest. 

“Call on me when you are ready to speak again,” she instructed and he nodded his head. 

With one last chaste kiss, they parted ways, and when the door closed behind Violet, Marcus turned back towards the drawing room, wondering if maybe that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was what his fiancée had felt only mere moments before. 

—

“Lady Bridgerton?” 

Violet looked up from her embroidery, so lost in her piece that she pricked herself with her needle when brought out of her trance. She sucked some air through her teeth, putting her finger in her mouth and looked up at Mrs. Wilson. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you alright-” 

“Just a needle prick, nothing to worry about,” she quickly interjected. “Is he here?” 

She nodded her head and Violet gave her permission to bring Marcus into the drawing room. 

Mrs. Wilson didn’t waste any time in leaving the two alone, knowing they would skip the formalities of tea and cake and move straight to conversation, especially when something of great importance needed to be discussed. 

Violet placed her embroidery to the side, paying no mind to the small droplet of blood that was forming on the tip of her finger, her focus drawn back to Marcus. 

“So?” she asked as he sat next to her. 

“You’re bleeding,” he noted, taking her hand in his to examine it. 

“It’s nothing,” she shook her head and removed her hand from his, quickly putting her finger in her mouth again to rid it of the blood before clasping her hands in her lap. “Marcus?” 

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, knowing he needed to be direct with her about his conversation with Evelyn. 

“She seemed to think your kindness was manufactured,” he admitted. “All a ruse to lure me or something of the sort.” 

Violet pressed her lips together, her heart clenching. She had never thought someone might doubt her intentions of marrying again. She had gained many freedoms as a widow, something she had gotten used to over the decade being alone and she had even asked herself if she was willing to give some of those things up to be married again. 

Marcus knew all this, they had had numerous conversations on such a topic, and over time, Violet came to see the reality of the situation for what it was. In what she lost, she would gain a life partner, a second chance, and Marcus would never treat her as someone to be controlled under him, but rather an equal partner, someone to consult with, to enjoy the many things the second half of their lives had to offer. 

“I take it she is not to be reasoned with?” Violet asked quietly, and Marcus nodded his head. “Oh dear.” 

She could feel the tears begin to well in her eyes again. After all their struggles and conversations with Anthony, Violet had thought the worst of it was over, that they had passed the main hurdle in their attempt for a union. 

She wasn’t sure she had prepared herself for what was to come next, but she knew it was the right thing. They had both decided that should any one of their children be so firmly against the match that it would not be wise to proceed with the engagement. 

Violet chewed on her lip and looked down at her left hand, the opposite one coming to adjust the ring on her finger. 

“We cannot do this,” she looked up at him, eyes glassy with tears. 

Marcus pressed his lips together once more and nodded. That was the agreement. 

Hesitantly, Violet removed the ring from her finger, holding it in her hands for a few moments, reminding herself of its weight, the way it felt in her palm, the excitement in her heart when he had asked if she wished to spend the rest of their lives together. 

Without looking at Marcus, she placed the ring in his hand, tears streaming down her face as she did so. He took the ring, but after, Violet felt his thumb and forefinger on her chin, turning her face to his, encouraging her to look at him. 

“My dear Violet,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I am so sorry.” 

“As am I,” she whispered. “I love you so very much. A-And thank you for showing me that was possible once more.” 

Marcus chuckled softly and kissed away her tears, his lips feather-light against her face. 

“And thank you for showing me what love feels like.”

Violet lifted her hands to hold Marcus’ face, feeling the stubble of his beard on her fingers. She brought him down, slowly, almost hesitantly, in a kiss. One last thing to remember him by. 

When they had pulled apart, Violet noticed a few tears that had come down Marcus’ face and she allowed herself to offer him the same comfort he had just given to her. 

“I love you.” 

His voice was a choked whisper that shattered her heart. 

“I love you too, my darling Marcus.” 

They made no attempt to compose themselves, and Marcus pulled away knowing if he stayed any longer he would not be able to leave. 

Violet watched, biting her cheek, as he took his hat and slipped out of the room. She looked back down to her hands, a cold empty spot where her ring once was. She was alone, and what better reason to give into the overwhelming need to cry. 

—

To say Marcus was despondent would be an understatement. He made no attempt to keep up appearances, locking himself in his chambers in his sister’s home, claiming a headache each morning to get him out of any commitments he might be roped into by his children. 

Two weeks had passed when he finally decided it was time to remove himself from the confinement he had resigned himself to, joining the family for breakfast. 

“I must say I am surprised Lady Bridgerton did not pay you a visit when you were unwell, Papa,” Amelia said. “Perhaps she is, herself, unwell.” 

“Perhaps,” Marcus nodded quietly. 

“When will we be seeing her again?” James inquired, sipping his tea and looking to his aunt or father for an answer. 

Marcus looked over to Agatha for guidance and she simply nodded her head, knowing he would not be able to hide the news from them much longer. 

“I don’t believe we will be seeing Lady Bridgerton any time soon,” he said. 

Evelyn’s curiosity seemed to be piqued, she looked up from her breakfast, making eye contact with her husband before turning to her father to see if he might explain further. 

“Why is that?” 

Marcus swallowed thickly and leaned back in his chair. 

“We are no longer engaged,” he said. 

“You broke off the engagement?” Evelyn asked, surprised. 

“No, she did,” he sighed. “Now, might we please speak of something else?” 

“Of course,” Amelia answered on behalf of her siblings, easily changing the topic for her father to something more general such as the plans for the impending baby. 

Marcus was more than happy to speak about the arrival of his first grandchild, grateful that while still in a time of such emotional difficulty, he had something joyful to look forward to. 

When breakfast was finished, he made his way to the study, picking a book off of one of the shelves and settling into an armchair to begin reading. He was no more than halfway through the first chapter when there was a knock on the door followed by a quiet creak. 

“Papa? It’s Evie.” 

Marcus sighed and closed his book, temporarily using his finger as a bookmark. 

“Come in.” 

The door pushed all the way open and Evelyn walked into the room before shutting it behind her. She silently came and took a seat across from her father who tried his best to not let his hurt seep through. 

“What can I do for you, Evie?” 

“You said she called it off.” 

That was straight to the point. Marcus thought to himself. 

“Darling, must we speak of this? It is done.” 

Marcus did not want to dredge up old feelings, not when he was still so early into this separation. 

“If you do not wish to,” she nodded. “I-I just wanted to confirm.” 

“If it is confirmation you seek then you have it.” 

Evelyn swallowed thickly and bowed her head, excusing herself from the study, leaving as quickly as she came.

Marcus sighed again and leaned back in his seat, his book placed in his lap while his gaze was focused on the vase of flowers on the other side of the room, wondering why on earth his daughter was so eager to confirm such a thing.

—

“Mama, are you really going to sit here all day, again?” Hyacinth asked, coming to take a seat next to Violet on the settee. 

“I am afraid there is not much else to do, dearest,” Violet looked over at her daughter. “My schedule is decidedly free.” 

“Perhaps we could go for a promenade?” the youngest Bridgerton suggested. “Or go and visit Colin and Pen?” 

Violet could see that her daughter was attempting to get her up and moving, but she did not feel she had the physical or emotional energy to do such a thing. She much preferred to stay on the couch with her embroidery and leave it at that. 

“I could ask Benedict to accompany you if you wish to do that,” she diverted and Hyacinth’s shoulders slumped. 

“Oh my dearest, I am sorry,” Violet sighed and apologized, bringing Hyacinth into her arms and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I am just…” 

“Sad?” 

Violet nodded, letting out a shaky exhale which encouraged her daughter to wrap her arms tighter around her. 

“Me too, Mama,” she mumbled. “I really liked Marcus.” 

“You are not the only one, my dear,” Violet whispered into Hyacinth’s hair, continuing to hold her close. 

“Lady Bridgerton, Miss Hyacinth?” 

The pair looked up to see a footman at the entrance to the drawing room. 

“Yes?” 

“There is a Mrs. Jacob here to see you.” 

“Mrs. Jacob,” Violet murmured to herself, trying to place the name. “Let her in.” 

Hyacinth still wasn’t quite ready to let go of her mother, but she noticed her shift in demeanour when their visitor entered the room. 

“Hyacinth, could you give us a moment?” Violet asked quietly, and Hyacinth looked up to her mother before reluctantly nodding and kissing her cheek before leaving the room, slipping past Mrs. Evelyn Jacob.

“Mrs. Jacob,” Violet stood up and smoothed out her dress. “Can I offer you tea? Or perhaps cake?” 

“N-No, I’m quite alright,” she nodded. “May I ask for a moment of your time?” 

Violet pursed her lips. 

“I am not sure it is wise for us to be speaking.” 

“Then let me say this and I shall leave if you do not wish to see me again,” she pleaded and Violet saw the sincerity in her brown eyes, mirroring the glimmer of her father’s compassion. 

“Very well,” Violet agreed. 

“I am sorry.” 

Violet looked at her curiously. 

“You are sorry?” 

She nodded, “Yes, very much so. It was wrong of me to make assumptions of your character before taking the chance to know you.” 

Violet took in a slow breath before looking at the seats around her. 

“Can I offer you a seat?” she asked and Evelyn nodded, sitting on the couch across from her while Violet settled herself once more. “May I ask what brought on this change of heart?” 

Violet wasn’t entirely sure if she could or should call it that yet. 

“My father, he-uh, he told us this morning that you had broken off your engagement,” she said. “You wouldn’t have done that if what I had accused you of was true. You could have easily ignored what I had said and married him anyway.” 

Violet nodded her head in understanding. 

“You must understand, my Lady, I was only trying to protect my father,” she pressed. “Ever since my mother died I always had assumed he would remarry straight away, even though they had grown to care for each other, it was no secret my parents did not have a love match. I knew this was something he wanted, but he did not express so until recently. He grieved my mother more than I expected him to and I-I worried it would leave him hasty and vulnerable in attempting to try and find another wife.” 

Violet continued nodding her head as she listened. 

“Your concern for your father is admirable,” she said. 

“Lady Bridgerton, you need not be kind to me.”

“Mrs. Jacob,” Violet leaned forward slightly. “Evelyn, you were doing what you thought you needed to to protect your family. No one understands that more than I do.”

Evelyn wrung her hands in her lap, her eyes flicking between Violet and the floor. 

“Do you…do you love him?” 

Violet looked down at her lap and scratched her nose. 

“I do,” she said clearly. “Very much.”

Evelyn seemed to be even more ashamed with herself, but before Violet could say anything to reassure her, she stood up. 

“I-I am sorry, I should be leaving now,” she said. “Thank you for your hospitality.” 

Evelyn rushed out of the door as Violet called for her to come back, but the young woman seemed to have fled the home. 

Violet sighed and sat back down in her seat, twiddling her thumbs. 

“Mama?” Hyacinth peeked her head inside the room. “Who was that?” 

Violet motioned for Hyacinth to come and sit with her and she obeyed, smoothing out her dress as soon as she was seated next to her mother. 

“Marcus’ daughter.” 

“Really?” She seemed astounded. “What did she say?” 

“It does not matter,” Violet shook her head. “What’s done is done.” 

“Mama,” Hyacinth pressed. “What did she say?” 

“She said she misjudged me,” Violet let out a breath of air and leaned into the couch. “But it is too late for anything to come of it.” 

“Why?” Hyacinth protested. “Why would it be too late?” 

“Because the engagement is broken, dearest,” Violet said plainly. “You have to understand, one does not simply continue to change their mind when it comes to marriage.” 

Hyacinth pressed her lips together and sighed.

“If you love each other I do not think it should matter.” 

Violet looked over at her youngest curiously. She was still a child in many ways, but had somehow developed a wisdom beyond her years, especially when it came to matters of the heart. She had always been perceptive of her siblings, and Violet supposed maybe she had been perceptive of her too. 

“Lady Bridgerton, Miss Hyacinth. Dinner is ready.” 

Violet looked over at Hyacinth who was quick to stand up and leave the room for dinner. She took her time, ensuring the pillows were placed nicely on the couch and her embroidery was put away before going to join the rest of her family. 

She was quiet through most of dinner, but as soon as the plates were cleared from the table she excused herself, calling for a cloak and a carriage. 

She waited anxiously while the carriage was prepared and as soon as she was seated inside she instructed the driver to head to the Danbury Estate. 

Darkness had fallen over London and the streets were mostly empty, which is why the sound of hooves, mixing with those coming from her own carriage, caught her attention. She peeked outside the window and recognized the familiar transport that belonged to the Danburys. 

“Stop the carriage!” 

She quickly alerted the driver and they came to a sharp halt only to hear the complete absence of hooves against the cobblestone. She frowned at her realization only to hear quick footsteps followed by a knock on her carriage door. 

Violet opened the door with haste, a relieved chuckle escaping her lips as she saw Marcus standing before her. 

“I was coming to see you,” she said. 

“And I you,” he laughed, a brightness returning to his eyes which had been absent in the past weeks. 

She moved out of the way of the door, an invitation for Marcus to slip inside should he wish. He accepted, but before he sat down next to her he knelt by her side, taking her hands in his. 

“Violet,” he began and she could not help the wide smile that overtook her features, small creases making themselves known in the corners of her eyes, only accentuating her joy. 

“Marcus,” she nodded for him to continue. 

“Given recent news I am hoping you will-” 

“Yes.” 

She didn’t let him finish his sentence, sending them both into a small fit of laughter. 

“I did not even ask you!”

“You did once before, that is enough for me,” Violet chuckled. 

Marcus pulled out that same betrothal ring from his pocket, a grin on both his and Violet’s face as he took her hand and placed it on her finger once again. 

“Perfect,” he whispered. “Just as it should be.” 

He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss over her ring, as if to seal it on her hand. Violet was quick to lift Marcus’ head, forcing him to look into her eyes while she simply admired him. The man who had captured her heart. 

[beewolfwrites]

you’re one of my favorite authors so i’m so glad you’re active again! <33 I’ve started rereading awiaf just to remind myself why it’s my favorite fic ever so thank you for feeding into my brain rot since you started awiaf until now.

on the other side of this ask

I have worms for brains and I desperately need chishiya trying to drop hints that he likes the reader but just… is so terrible at it and gets frustrated because if it. He probably doesn’t even know the first thing about flirting, let’s all be honest.

Hey Anon! This probably strayed a little from your request, but if you'd rather have a fluffier version, I'm happy to redo it :)

The idea of Kuina being a horrified wingwoman to Chishiya's terrible flirting attempts was just too funny not to write about.

(Chishiya x gn reader)

(Kuina = losing hope in all humanity)

________________________________________________

It was killing her to watch. 

She’d given him more expert advice than she’d ever given anyone - heaven only knew that boy needed it - but he was still so stiff, so standoffish, and so goddamn terrible. And now, hiding behind a pillar in the hotel lobby, Kuina felt like crawling into a corner and burying her head in the sand. 

‘Thanks… That’s really nice of you Chishiya.’  

The words had come out in the same awkward tone that one might use when humouring children, or fending off an over-familiar stranger on the bus. And what’s worse, Chishiya hadn’t even realised. 

‘You just pull the pin and it should work,’ he explained, showing off the “pin”, which was actually a keyring attached to a piece of string. 

‘Great,’ (Y/N) said, eyebrows drawing in bizarre confusion. ‘I guess it’s useful to have… maybe.’ 

Kuina bit her hand, fighting the urge to drag him away at his heels. Luckily, she didn’t have to, because without even saying goodbye, or ending the conversation whatsoever, he was now walking away, smiling with satisfaction and leaving (Y/N) standing in the hotel lobby looking utterly bewildered by the events that just occurred. As Chishiya passed the pillar, she grabbed his white hood.

He shook her off immediately. ‘Was that really necessary?’ 

‘What the hell was that?’ Kuina hissed. ‘What about everything we practiced?’ 

He shrugged lazily. ‘I thought it went well.’ 

You can’t be serious?

‘That right there? That was a car crash. You can’t just walk up to someone and give them a bomb as a present. They think you’re insane now.’ 

‘I doubt that. I left a note in their room beforehand.’ 

Kuina felt the colour drain from her face. ‘You did what now?’ 

Chishiya gave a knowing smile. ‘While the games were on, I left a note on the bed explaining that I had a gift. It was hardly a surprise.’ 

Oh my god… This is a disaster. 

She placed both hands on his shoulders, locking him in a firm grip that he couldn’t escape from no matter how much he tried to squirm away. 

‘Chishiya, listen to me now. Normal people don’t do things like this. You don’t know (Y/N) well enough to just walk into their room. You’re gonna end up with some really weird rumours going around, and I don’t want to be part of that.’ 

He finally broke away with a scowl. ‘You’re overreacting. If you’re not going to help, you can find somebody else to annoy.’ 

‘I’m literally trying my hardest to help you, but you’re impossible. This is impossible.’ 

He made a small noise of irritation and stared aimlessly at the white lobby wall. ‘Do you have any other suggestions then?’ 

‘What about telling the truth?’ 

‘No.’ 

‘It’s not that bad. Tell them how you really feel. Admit that you weren’t sure how to show it, and you screwed up —‘

‘I didn’t.’ 

‘Yeah, you did. You haven’t got a clue how to flirt, and that was a horror show to watch.’ 

He averted his gaze, looking anywhere but at Kuina. ‘Any other bright ideas?’ 

She rubbed her temple. ‘I’ll see what I can think of,’ she said. ‘Just let me work on it, okay?’ 

As she parted ways with Chishiya in the lobby, Kuina didn’t have much hope. The situation was eating away at her, because believe it or not, she wanted Chishiya to be happy, even if he was an asshole sometimes. Well, most of the time. However, even after borrowing all of her expert advice and tips, he still couldn’t quite make flirting seem natural. 

And worse, he actually did like (Y/N), even if he had never really shared the depths of his feelings. But Kuina wasn’t blind. She’d seen the way his eyes trailed after them, no matter where they were in the room. He would only ask how Kuina’s games had been whenever (Y/N) was placed in the same group. Anybody else wouldn’t have noticed. Except Kuina wasn’t just anybody. 

I think I might actually feel bad for him. 

Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the sixth floor. She was so lost in her thoughts that when the doors opened, it took her a good few seconds to realise that she was standing face to face with the object of those thoughts - the object of Chishiya’s affection.

‘Oh! Hey Kuina, this is actually kind of cool. I was just looking for you.’ 

Oh no.

Kuina could already see where this was going. ‘Really? We can go into my room if you want to talk,’ she suggested. ‘It’s better than standing out here.’ 

They must have been knocking on Kuina’s door, and since the timing was right, that could only mean one thing. There would be a very long conversation ahead. The two shut themselves away in the privacy of Kuina’s room, sitting on two small chairs in front of the window. 

‘Sorry for the mess.’ Kuina began scooping up the array of lipsticks rolling around on the desk behind her. ‘I think I already know why you’re here.’ 

There’s no point beating around the bush.

(Y/N) tried to hide a grimace behind their hand. ‘It’s… well. Have you noticed Chishiya-san acting strange recently?’ 

‘Strange?’ 

‘It’s just that - this is so weird. He stares at me so much, and earlier when I came back from my game, I found a note from him on my pillow. I didn’t even know he’d been in my room.’ 

Seriously, Chishiya? The pillow?!

Kuina feigned surprise. ‘What did the note say?’ 

‘He wanted to meet with me in the lobby, so I did. Just now, actually, and…’ (Y/N) pulled out a soda can with red and blue wires stretching from the lip to the base, and a tiny pull ring on top. ‘He gave me a homemade grenade.’ 

‘I’m so sorry.’ It was the only thing Kuina could bring herself to say. ‘I really am. I can have a word with him if you want?’

‘That’s not all,’ they added. ‘The other day when I woke up I found something in front of my door too. I don’t have it here, but it was a… a shank, I think?’ 

Kuina fought the urge to put her head in her hands and cry. Chishiya hadn’t told her about this, probably knowing she would disapprove. And disapprove, she did. 

‘I don’t have it with me, but it’s a piece of shaved metal tied to a screwdriver. There wasn’t a note but I think it was him. I didn’t really know what to say to him before. I just, I’m a little confused. I always thought he was kind of cute, but all of this is weirding me out…’ 

Hold on. 

Kuina’s eyes widened. She replayed that last sentence in her head. 

Hold on just one second. 

‘I’m only asking because I care,’ they said, ‘but is he okay, you know, mentally?’ 

‘Look,’ Kuina interrupted. ‘This is going to sound crazy, but hear me out.’

Maybe honesty really is the best policy. 

She took a deep breath. ‘Chishiya actually likes you. As in, he likes likes you. He’s just fucking awful at flirting.’ 

(Y/N)’s whole body froze, eyes flashing with hope. ‘You mean he likes me in that way? He has feelings for me?’ 

Kuina nodded and leaned back in her chair. It was like a huge weight had suddenly been lifted from her chest.

‘I wasn’t going to say anything since it’s not really my place, but the two of you are getting nowhere like this. I know how he looks, but Chishiya’s not made of stone. I think he just wasn’t sure how to tell you and decided to make you weapons for protection. He’s really logical like that. I guess he figured regular gifts didn’t have any value in this place.’ 

Have I ruined it?

She had tried to explain the best she could, to put Chishiya in a good light and dissolve any rumours of him being a homemade weapon-obsessed stalker. But by doing this, did she also sabotage his chances? 

(Y/N) smiled gently. ‘I guess when you think about it that way, it’s actually kind of sweet.’ 

Kuina was perplexed, to say the least. There was no way in heaven or hell that Chishiya was sweet. Not a chance. The man was cold, stoic, calculating, basically anything but boyfriend material. But she wasn’t going to say this to the one person who might actually be able to change him.  

(Y/N) stood up and grinned at Kuina. ‘Thank you! I think, I might actually go and talk to him now. His room is just down the hall, isn’t it?’ 

“It’s room nine,’ Kuina got to her feet too. ‘I’ll come with you, but I’ll be hiding around the corner. If it’s okay with you, I want to see how this works out.’ 

‘That’s okay,’ they said. ‘I’d like you to come. It’ll be good having you there, for support.’ 

The pair left Kuina’s room and headed down the hallway towards room nine. Judging from the vague shuffling noises they could hear through the door, Chishiya was inside. Kuina gave a wink of encouragement and hid just behind the corner, the perfect place to listen in and spy from afar. (Y/N) knocked on the door, holding the soda can between both hands.

The shuffling noises paused, then the door opened, revealing Chishiya. When he saw who was on the other side, his lips parted in mild surprise. 

‘Hey Chishiya.’ (Y/N) shuffled awkwardly. ‘I just wanted to stop by to say I’m sorry about before, if I seemed off. I was still kind of thinking about my game earlier.’ They held up the soda can. ‘Really, thank you for this. It’ll be really handy in a pinch.’

To anybody else, Chishiya’s expression would seem static, bored even. But Kuina saw the vague tug of a smile on his lips; she knew better. 

‘If you use it in your next game, I can make you another one,’ he replied. ‘Or if you need a knife that you can hide in your jacket. Tasers too.’

‘Tasers?’

He smirked. ‘All you need is an electronic device. It’s a simple rewiring trick.’ 

The two spoke in hushed tones, Chishiya faintly smirking and (Y/N) taking in every word he spoke. Watching from behind the corner, Kuina was delighted to finally see her efforts come to fruition, and she had to admit, these two oddballs kind of suited each other. Who would’ve known? 

(Y/N) peered over Chishiya’s shoulder, their face lighting up. ‘Wait, is that your workbench? Can I see it?’ 

‘Sure.’ He opened his door wider and (Y/N) slipped inside. 

This is the cutest thing I’ve seen in ages, Kuina thought. Maybe I should become a professional matchmaker. 

And then she froze. 

She froze because Chishiya didn’t close the door behind him. Instead, his eyes jumped over to where she was standing, looking at her squarely. 

Busted!

She gave him an awkward wave of her fingers. However, instead of scowling at her for meddling too much in his affairs, he gave her the briefest of nods - a small thank you for the world’s greatest wingwoman. 

[maddiethedogstories]

Sarah's Playground - 7

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

The wine bottles were exciting to me. As the sheltered girl I was, I had never even considered drinking before I was 21. The idea of getting to do something so adult with Lidia, the older woman who had made it her life's goal up to this point to treat me as her living baby doll, was enthralling. I remembered distinctly thinking to myself that this could be a turning point in Lidia and my relationship. Maybe I could be cool just like her?

I shuddered while still suckling at my mother's tit as I relived this new memory and realized how wrong and naive I was.

It didn't take Lidia long to find my Mom's wine glasses at all. She quickly went to the kitchen, put the bottles of wine down, and opened the precise cabinet where the glasses were located. I shot her a confused look. How did she know where those glasses were?

Lidia caught my look. As she reached into a drawer and pulled out a corkscrew, she responded to my unspoken question.

"Baby, don't look so confused. I've drank here dozens of times. What do you think I did after I tucked you in for an early bedtime?"

That made a lot of sense and eased my concerns a little.

"Oh, good," I said nervously, watching as Lidia pour two large glasses of white wine, "I don't think I should drink though. If Mom found out, she'd demote me back to third grade!"

Lidia smiled at me in response.

"Oh, don't be a spoil sport, it's your birthday weekend and you deserve to have some fun, right? I promise I won't tell your mom. I've never told her about our other secrets, right?"

I blushed at being reminded of the numerous weekends I'd spent with Lidia crawling around in a soiled diaper.

"No, you're right. You really promise you'll keep this a secret?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course!" Lidia said, handing me a glass.

I felt reassured. So, without hesitation, I took a big drink from the wine glass. I then immediately spat it out. It didn't taste like juice at all. Lidia laughed uproariously.

"Sweetie! You've gotta take it easy! It looks like juice, but doesn't taste like it. Why don't you try again, but just take a sip?" Lidia offered.

I obliged. I took a sip of the wine and made a face. This time, though I was able to swallow it.

"Great, now, how about we get some jammies on? I'll order a pizza and pop some popcorn, and we can have a Rom Com movie marathon?" Lidia offered.

That sounded wonderful to me. After years of being forced to watch Disney movies while suckling from a bottle with Lidia, the idea of drinking wine and watching romantic comedies with her felt almost too good to be true.

The rest of the night went excellently. I switched into my most comfortable pajamas and spent the night lounging on the couch and bonding with Lidia, who, for the first time in my life, was treating me as an equal rather than some stupid little toddler.

As I drank more wine, I started to get used to the taste. My head got fuzzy and my inhibitions dropped with each sip. I suddenly saw the draw of drinking. By the time 2 AM hit, Lidia and I had finished both bottles of wine and I was feeling pretty good. When I stood up though, I couldn't walk straight. Lidia giggled.

"Oh, sweetheart, you are wasted! Let me help you to bed!" Lidia said as she stood up, grabbed me by the shoulders, and guided me to my bedroom.

I smiled stupidly. Drunk and happy with my new found friendship with Lidia.

"Lidia, you know you are the... uh... best, right?" I slurred drunkenly.

Lidia laughed, "Yes, sweetheart, I do. Now let's get your drunk little butt to bed!"

I laid down in bed as Lidia directed, and, probably mostly out of habit, let Lidia tuck me in.

"Goodnight, Sarah," Lidia said as she closed the door to my room.

"Goodnight Lidy," I said as I closed my eyes, feeling the world spin around me.

I couldn't help but smile as I fell asleep. This was the perfect way to celebrate becoming an adult.

The next morning did not go nearly as well.

"Oh my god, Sarah! You said you haven't wet the bed since you were 13? You naughty little liar!" Lidia's voice woke me up.

"What? Yeah? I don't wet the bed anymore," I groaned, sitting up and feeling an uncomfortable cool wetness around my groin.

"That is not what your bed and pajamas say Little Missy!" Lidia said, throwing the sheets off of me and exposing my shame. She immediately pulled out her phone and took a picture.

"You know I have to tell your Mommy about this right? This is NOT the behavior of a real adult!" Lidia said.

"Please, don't! I thought we were friends?! This really wasn't even my fault, it had to be the wine!" I pleaded.

"Baby, you know if your Mommy finds out about this, and I didn't tell her, I could get demoted for being immature too. I have to tell her. Also, you are not going to complain about this anymore. If you do, I am going to tell your Mommy that you stole wine for me and your demotion will be MUCH worse," Lidia said.

"You... you wouldn't..." I stammered.

"I would, now, be a good girl and tell your Mommy about your accident," Lidia says, pressing the call button on her phone and handing it to me.

I almost wet my bed again right there out of fear of how my Mom was going to react.

NEXT CHAPTER

[theintrovertbean]

Remember when I posted this? This is what I meant when I said I was writing something about high heels.

Summary: Nadia has beautiful legs and y/n wholeheartedly agrees.

This isn't smut, but there's some naughtiness implied. So, just to be safe, minors DNI.

Linguistics classes are boring, so I spend them writing about Nadia instead 🤗 That's just what I do, write adult content when I should be paying attention to my seminars. I will keep doing it.

I wrote like half of this at uni instead of listening to whatever the fuck that class was, and my friend sitting next to me was like o.o when they looked at my phone. But the bitch is back (no, not really, I'm just blessing you with a crumb of content before I retreat to my hiding again.) Anyway, I thought I'd give myself a break and write for the sake of writing about something that doesn't give me anxiety, and what's better than Nadia's legs to ease my stress? Damn, that rhymes. Don't mind my little vent, idk why I'm even writing this but it's almost 3 am and I no longer care.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it. Have a good one, simps!

Heeled Seduction (Nadia x Reader)

She's a strong, smart woman. She can take care of herself and she doesn't need help. But when I watch her undress and then put on her extravagant gown for the upcoming event, I can't help but notice her high heels waiting for her to put them on. I remind myself that no, she does not need help with something so trivial, but the more I entertain the thought, the more tempting it becomes.

She sits down on a plush chair and pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear. My heart melts at the sight of her, but if I want to do this, then this is my chance.

"Nadia," I call out her name. It comes naturally to me at this point as she's had me cry out her name in pleasure countless times.

She looks at me with curiosity in her intense gaze. "Yes, love?"

I don't answer. I simply walk toward her and then lower myself onto one knee in front of her. My Countess raises an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curling up into one of those cheeky smiles that I love so much. She watches me with interest, awaiting my next move.

I gently lift her foot and guide it into the shoe, my fingers brushing against her delicate skin and I can feel her shiver beneath my touch. Having such an effect on the embodiment of perfection, on a goddess like her, fills me with pride.

"Oh my," She begins with a smile. "How attentive of you, my darling. Allow me to assist you."

Then she grabs a fistful of her dress, slowly, teasingly lifting it higher to give me better access. She reveals her strong thigh, only to my eyes, and I have to gulp. Inch by inch, she tortures me with her beauty. I'm quite certain she knows that she doesn't have to lift it so high. My sweet, loving Nadia—always teasing me at every chance she gets.

Encouraged by her seduction, I put my hand on her other leg, fingers caressing and massaging her strong calf gently. "Have I ever told you," I lean forward, pressing a kiss onto her skin right under her knee. "how beautiful your legs are?"

"Hm, I don't think you have," My Countess answers, the tone of her voice warm and low and the smile on her face playful but loving. "Why don't you elaborate?"

"Well, your skin is so soft here," I say and lift her leg, putting it over my shoulder. "I love how it feels against my mouth. So delicate and smooth." When I brush my lips against her thigh and my breath caresses her, I can see her clutching the armrest just a little tighter. "But your legs are also very strong." I rest my hand on the side of her thigh, drawing circles into it with my thumb. "Perfect for..." I drag my lips across her skin, going higher and higher until I can feel the heat radiating from her core. "Smothering."

My love chuckles and I look up to see her cheeks colored with a blush. "Aah, yes, they'd look so beautiful around your head."

"They certainly would," I smirk against her inner thigh and I'm certain she wants nothing more than for me to continue. "But!" I exclaim and put her leg down, shifting my body away from hers. "We have a party to attend. The rest can wait."

I swear I can hear her mutter a small damn you, y/n under her breath while I quickly put on her other high heel. When I finish, I immediately feel her fingers grasping my chin, guiding me to look up at her. "When it is done, I hope you intend to use that teasing, wicked mouth of yours for something more pleasurable," She whispers to me, and I can already feel my cheeks burning under her gaze. Here, at the feet of my mistress, my countess, my love, I feel a sense of belonging.

"If that's what milady wishes."

[divinesolas]

Flowers | The Series | Chapter Five | The Opening Feast

Summary | The opening feast is a wonderful event, though you are feeling a little miserable, a certain person helps make the event a little more bearable.

Pairing | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Happy family (house dunn), not proofread

Word count | 2k

Series Masterlist

The vigorous shaking of your body wakes you as you see your mother and a handmaiden standing over you, “Enough napping it's time to get ready.” You groan as your mother rips the blanket off of you, “Up. now.” You sit up reluctantly, “I'm up.” She rolls her eyes, “barely, please get her in the bath and make her presentable.” The handmaiden nods as your mother leaves, clearly not herself though you do not wish to ask as to not disturb her. 

You turn to the maiden and get off the bed to follow her and watch as she draws the bath, “What is your name?” She freezes and turns to you in confusion, “Is there something wrong?” She immediately turns back to watch what she was doing, “No my lady, I was simply surprised by your question.” Now it is your turn to be confused, “Why is that?” “Well no one asked me for my name before.” You can only stare at her in confusion, “I'm only a handmaiden..” “And that makes you any less human? you still have not answered my question.” As she finishes up she turns to you and smiles, “Belle.” “a pretty name for a lovely lady.” She now has a wide grin, dimples on display, “You're much too kind my lady.” She helps you undress and into the bath.

You two begin to engage in conversation, “You shouldnt concern yourself with a handmaiden my lady.” she tries, “nonsense tell me about yourself.” Which leads you to now as she is putting the finishing touches on your dress you two continue to talk as your mother enters and eye’s you. “Very nice.” The maiden smiles and nods and goes to leave, “I hope you have fun my lady.” “Thank you belle, i hope we can chat again soon.” She nods and leaves. 

You stare at yourself in the mirror and admire your gown, you hope the prince will like it despite the fact that you shouldn't, you will not speak to him anymore. You cannot, there's no point. You begin to murmur to yourself and your mother comes cover and places her hands on your shoulders and admires you in the mirror. “You look very beautiful.” “Thank you mother.” “I heard you were walking around the garden with the prince this afternoon.” Your eyes widened in shock, how had she heard about that, had she seen you two. “Im sorry mother-” “There's nothing to apologize for, However i hope you do not set your dreams to high my dear. I only wish to see you happy and i fear if you dream to big the bigger the crash will be when it does not come true.” You sigh and nod, “I know mother, but it is hard to say no to the prince.” “Of course he is the prince.” 

You roll your eyes as your mother smiles, “Dragons set things ablaze. I simply do not wish for you to be caught in the fire.” You smile at her, “I know mother.” She sighs as she spins you around to face her, “You know you remind me a lot of myself when I was younger.” You groan as she glares, “what-” “How many times are you going to tell me this?” You laugh as she hits your arm. “That is no way to speak to your mother.” You laugh harder and she can't help but join you. Your father walks in his hair slightly a mess and his clothes a little wonky but you don't comment as he smiles at the two of you. “Now what about you two laughing?” Your mother shakes her head, a light smile on her face, “Ladies secret.” “You wouldn't get it.” “ah of course of course, well would my two lovely ladies like me to escort you to the main hall for dinner?” 

You giggle as you grab his arm and your mother on the other one, “You should fix your hair before we enter father.” His eyes widen in shock as your mother laughs and he moves to fix it, He purposefully makes it worse before turning to you, “hows that?” You laugh and shake your head, “Perfect.” “You rascal.” he taps your arms and smiles. Your mother clicks her teeth and moves to fix it for him, “You old fool.” He gives her a more gentle smile and thanks her softly as she shakes her head. “Now lets go before we are late.” She moves ahead of the two of you and you grab your fathers arm. “Lets hurry now or else well awake the beast.” “the beast is already awake now move!” you two laugh and hurry after her.

—

The main hall somehow looks bigger than this morning, Long and large tables fill the sides of the room “wow.” you three can only look in wonder before quickly moving to your table. All the way in the back of course with little to no view of the main table in the front of the iron throne where the royal family would be seated. “Well this is nice.” You shake your head at your father as he contently sips on his wine. Your mother glances all over the room before he turns to you with a look you don't like, “oh no.” She glares at her husband as she turns back to you, “There's many people I would like to introduce to you tonight.” You groan and look at your father who avoids eye contact. 

“Mother-” “There's Ser Marq Ambrose of house Ambrose, There's Joffery Arryn of House Arryn and-” “Take a deep breathe dear.” She glares at her husband, “I am simply trying to secure her a match as should you-” “And it shall happen my dear so relax, how do you know i have not been putting in work as well.” She narrows her eyes, “And what could you have possibly done?” Before he could answer when the royal family arrives, everyone stands as the announcer reads off a long list of names and titles but all you can do is admire the prince. He has a gentle smile on his face and he spots you and it grows. You quickly avert your eyes and turn your head the other way. As the royal family sit, Rhaenyra remains standing to address the crowd.

“I would like to start off by thanking each and every single one of you for attending tonight-” Her speech drones on as you stare at your feet wishing the ground would swallow you whole, your happy moments with your family made you forget where you are and you are suddenly reminded that you are surrounded by people who are willing to do anything to get what they want.”I’d like to raise a glass to Prince Jacaerys.” Everyone, including yourself raises a glass, “To Prince Jacaerys!” The crowd cheers as many people down their glasses, “Now let us eat!”  

Hundreds of plates begin to get served and many begin to eat. As you all sit back down your mother is staring at her husband expectantly, “What?” “You never answered my question.” “What question- oh.” A smirk dawns his face as he shakes his head and turns to you, “Some Things a father has to keep to himself.” You laugh and shake your head while your mother glares. He shrugs at her and smiles at the man bringing him his plate. You three begin to eat and you try hard not to take glances up at jacaerys. 

Many people begin to dance and your mother pushes you towards the dance floor, “There will be many lords down there, now go dance!” You stand at the sidelines and watch as many people dance waiting for the current song to be over when you feel someone standing at your side. “You must think you’re so special huh.” You roll your eyes and turn to see, “Cassandra baratheon, Hello.” She glares at you, “Stay away from him.” You tilt your head at her, “Now why should I do that?” She crosses her arms and gets closer to you staring at you, “You have no chance, No one cares that he gave you the time of day once, he’ll soon forget you and end up with someone who actually matters. Not you. What even is house dunn anyway?” She scoffs and walks away from you.

You don't look at her retreating form as a wave of sadness crashes into you for what must be the tenth time today. You shake it off of you as the next song begins and you are asked to dance by one of the men your mother had said, Marq was his name? You can't remember. It's a switch partners dance and suddenly you are being moved to all sorts of different men. Lost in the moment you barely register the man standing in front of you, “My lady.” He smiles at you as he's done all day but you can barely look at him and look down at your feet instead. “My prince.” Thankfully your time with him is short and you are soon swaying away not noticing the sad look on his face.

After the dance is done you return to your family and sit, “are you alright sweetheart?” you sigh, “I'm just not feeling well-.” “What did that girl say to you?” you turn to your father who has an angry look on his face, “what do you-” “You've had a sad look on your face since you spoke with her what did she say?” “Dear-” “Nothing untrue is all.” You pick up the glass of wine and drink it as your father shakes his head. You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself, even your family is beginning to notice, “I wish to go mingle.” Your mother looks at you in shock, “You said there are lords to meet no? Let us go meet them.” 

Your mother gives you a look you cannot recognize before standing and walking towards you, she whispers something in her husband's ear and he nods and walks off. You begin to regret your decision as she drags you around the room introducing you to numerous men. There is one however that stands out. “And I am Joffery Arryn, my lady.” You smile as he kisses your hand, “My mother, jeyne arryn.” The older lady smiles at you as you greet her. “You look wonderful tonight my lady.” You’re face heats, he is a very attractive clearly resembling his mother, “You are too kind ser.” He shakes his head and smiles, “I am most certainly not, you are the most gorgeous woman in the room, I simply state the truth.” You shake your head in disbelief, “and you are very attractive yourself ser.” He laughs, “Now you are the one being too kind my lady.” 

The two of you continuing the talk. He a very pleasant man you enjoy conversing with, and time slips away from you without you noticing as you enjoy your time with ser joffrey so much. Something else that slips your mind is the stare of a certain prince from across the room. As the night grows later you grow tired and bid the arryns a goodnight with the promise to speak again tomorrow. You mother walks you to bed with a pleased look on her face and you do not see your father again for the rest of the night. You walk into your room and are greeted by belle.

“Hello belle.” “Hello my lady i hope your evening went well.’ You smile, “It did.” as she begins to remove your evening wear you notice a curious red rose has been laid on top of your bed. “Was that rose always there?” She turns to it and tilts her head, “I do not know my lady.” she gets you ready for the night and leaves.

You walk to the bed and eye the rose. Picking it up you notice it has been dethroned, poorly of course, there's one or two thorns but you cant be bothered by it as you admire it. Who would bring you this if it was not always here? You think long and hard, not being able to put a finger, “When you give someone a singular red rose it resembles giving them your heart.” Your earlier words ring around your head as your face burns.