#since i haven't wrote in like 4+ months

[etrobeauty]

Part of me wants to start a new muse as like a start fresh new but at the same time don't have the energy to create new blog and chance of losing the muse.

[rainstormsandothersadthings]

finally have 3000 words in my new chapter im crying its been so long since i posted 

[antivivziepopparade]

All of the proof that we have that Vivziepop is abusive. (So far....)

While you support this post please go ahead and support my channel to see more about Vivziepop's abusive behavior. Thanks!

1. She rushes her employees.

Season 1 was made in 2020. While Season 2 was made in 2021 while being released with MULTIPLE EPISODES only ONE year later.

That's-

INSANE!

-and im about to tell you why:

The average cartoon needs almost ONE WHOLE YEAR to produce one episode. And this is what we see in MAINSTREAM shows.

Meanwhile, Helluva Boss took only one year (and a half) to make MULTIPLE ENTIRE EPISODES that last over 20 minutes. The longest waiting time for an episode being 8 months. Not even a year, and we get multiple episodes off the drawing board.

You can even see here that it's taken only three years to make 16 episodes. When this is an indie studio, so this should have taken so much longer to make. Yet for some reason, it took only a few years for us to get full seasons. In 2021, we got over 4 episodes alone. Have you ever wondered why these episodes come out so fast while other shows take a lot longer to get new seasons? That's an easy question to ask... Spindlehorse...

Is being ABUSED.

And I have the proof to show.

2. The pay controversy.

Spindlehorse's payment has been under controversy for providing the lowest pay possible to those that work at the studio.

One piece of evidence was given by Adam himself (albeit unintentionally) by saying this:

This kind of pay is highly unstable! And before you say "But he didn't force them to be there-"

LOOK.

The employees themselves admitted that they had no choice. People had no choice and Vivienne Medrano took advantage of that for her own selfish desires. This is disgusting treatment of a studio as small as Spindlehorse. Or any studio for that matter.

Hell! chaifootsteps said once that once Zeurel released that he was paying his animators too low, he deleted one of the tweets showing the low pay and decided to do something to give his employees better wages. Meanwhile, Chimera Bunny pays even less than Viv does and just because paying your workers low is normal in the animation industry- plot twist: Doesn't make it ok!

People have suffered so much in this industry, it's why "New Deal for Animation" exists. The only reason you haven't seen many Vivziepop workers having protests and speaking out is because Vivziepop says things like this behind people's backs if they "dare" do anything she doesn't like:

So that explains as to why so many people remain as "anon" or say nothing at all because they got cold feet. Vivienne's terrible!

Especially since even her top employees have admitted to not being paid enough despite Adam's "I pay them to stay if they make us the most mon-ey!" claims from the article:

Also this:

This is how she speaks about her own employees:

"YOU DONT LIKE HOW I TREAT YOU?! FUCK OFF!"

Straight up abuse.

Also, wasn't Walt Disney known for abusing his employees?

To the point where people had an entire protest in 1914 about it?

Wow... such a healthy workplace treatment comparison. Doesn't make Vivziepop look more like a jerk.... at all! /s

3. She bullies kids/laughed at a sa victim that was sa'ed by her friends. As one kid was bullied into a panic attack (I know them personally) back in about 2020 and Viv decided to vague post about them behind their back even after they apologized.

For someone who's so focused on "forgiving despite cancel culture" she sure likes to blame and harass people for disliking even ONE thing about her show or herself. One thing- and you're harassed over making a meme about a cartoon with fictional characters (What Froot Did that set Vivziepop and Gumball off.)

Secondly, one of her friends sexually harassed a minor.

And instead of acknowledging the sa, Vivziepop wrote this:

She ended up calling it a "joke" and made fun of the victim involved.

This is outright abusive behavior that should not be tolerated.

Children don't deserve to be traumatized this way. Especially over something as simple as making memes about a cartoon (negative or not) or simply telling someone to stop fetishizing abuse.

More on this in this video made by Gummypop:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND-

That's all that I have for now!

Will likely be updating this post in the future. Goodbye!

EDIT:

More evidence of Vivziepop using abusive language and slander against her employees behind their back. Claims of them being a "stalker" (like she did to Kedi and also its clear that she told her employees to say that Kaz was a "stalker" otherwise how else would they be saying these things after she fired them.) along with using abusive language such as "CUNT!" to prefer to Kaz this way in a professional setting I cannot. 💀

More evidence of Vivziepop harassing a kid:

ANOTHER edit:

More evidence, she's burning them the HELL out!

Yet ANOTHER edit:

More evidence of Spindlehorse being abusive:

EDIT:

Even MORE evidence:

The fact that the story AND the storyboards AND the animating for season one's episodes were all done in one year is just so crazy to me like... WHAT?! Either way, this post will continue to extend the more that I find evidence. So remember to look forward to that one!

EDIT:

Sadly no, as animation abuse is so common that the police dont even see it as an issue. The last time I tried to call the police on her they needed a location. The problem? There is no location of Spindlehorse since it's a "private" studio. So because of that viv gets away with abuse despite the obvious implications of her behavior and how many people came out with allegations towards her.

[kinzis-writing]

Better than Revenge | M.R [3]

Going along with a plan was easy right? After all it was fake, and basically just a show for everyone to watch. So, why was Y/N starting to question if the plan was a good idea.

Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Y/N Nettleby, Ex! Theodore Nott x Y/N Nettleby.

Warning(s): mentions of alcohol, partying, smoking, mentions of cheating, soft! Mattheo, mentions of loss of virginity. Plot twist maybe?

iii. "you knew you won, so what’s the point of keeping score"

Chapter Two

*Not edited (grammar or spell check), I'll go back and do that later.*

It had been 4 weeks since Y/N and Mattheo had started their plan. A whole month of spending time together and now acting like a couple without labels. It was safe to say that all of Hogwarts was in shock to see the two become a couple. Of course a select few, like the golden trio, knew exactly what was happening. Everyone else, was surprised that Mattheo had tied himself down to one girl, that his attention had solely been on Y/N Nettlby and her Gryffindor glory.

"That's not right," Y/N stated softly as she got up from her chair that was across from Mattheo and moved to one that was beside of him. She quietly pulled the seat closer to him before marking out what he had done and fixed it in a way he'd understand. "It should be easier like that. You can remember the spell easier that way." she had moved her gaze back up to his face noticing that he was watching her instead of what she wrote the whole time.

"I don't need help," he admitted sheepishly. "I'm behind but I know the stuff." he shrugged as he laid his quil down on the parchment in front of him.

"Then why have me tutor you?" She asked him quietly, her eyes never leaving his. Y/N thought they were having a sweet moment, something that happened often between them. Her line was starting to blur between faux moments and real moments.

"have to keep my reputation, love." he spoke breaking the moment that she thought they were having.

Y/N scoffed lightly pulling back from their close proximity, "Then why did you agree to this plan? It definitely ruins your rep." she told him as she crossed her arms.

Mattheo shrugged as he leaned back in his seat, "Doesn't ruin it, I haven't been with anyone in awhile." he mumbled nonchalantly as he returned his gaze to his homework.

Y/N ignored his comment and carefully got up and made her way back to her original seat. She was gathering her items and shoving them in her bag as it was getting time head back to the common room, the prefects and filch would be out patrolling the halls and no one wanted to lose house points.

"hey, there's a party tonight in the Slytherin common room." Mattheo started as he grabbed his work and stood up following the girl's lead. "You should come, it'll prove how "serious" this is." He explained as he looped her arm over the Gryffindor's shoulder.

Y/N rolled her eyes slightly and looked up at the boy as they left the library. "I don't fancy losing house points trying to sneak into my fake boyfriend's party." she muttered as they arrived to the portrait.

The Slytherin boy rolled his eyes, "I'll be right here waiting for you in thirty minutes." He told her before squeezing her hand and walking back down towards the Slytherin's common room.

The Gryffindor girl groaned before saying the password and walking into the common room. Quickly going up to the dormitories to change into a party dress. She knew which one she was going to wear, it would work perfectly for a Slytherin party. Her mother had bought her an emerald green dress, every year. So she wouldn’t forget what family she came from.

She had never attended Slytherin’s parties with Theodore, so this was all new to her. Not knowing how casual or dressed up to be. She laid her dress on the bed before heading towards the bathroom and doing her hair and makeup in the way that seemed fit.

When houses three parties, everyone was invited. It was the only time that houses willingly hung out together, but they stilled seemed to stay in their groups. Unless, they were planning on hooking up for the night. Y/N knew that she would probably run into Ginny and a few other Gryffindors there. Hermione was less likely to be there, often going to the library or being into her studies.

Y/N had rushed down the stairs and out of the dormitories before she could be stopped. Not wanting to talk to anyone right now, just wanting to get to Mattheo and head to the dreaded party.

“You ready?” Y/N asked Mattheo once she noticed his figure outside of the Gryffindor common room. “I wasn’t sure exactly what to wear.” Mattheo’s eyes looked her up and down, almost like he was soaking in what she looked like. “I can go change if I’m underdressed or overdressed?” She suggested when he still had yet to say anything.

“No,” he shook his head. His hand slipping into hers instinctively. “You look great, just didn’t expect you to be in green s’all.” He mumbled clearing his throat after.

Mattheo had successfully gotten them to the Slytherin common room without running into anyone on the way. Y/N rolled her eyes at the common room password before she was led through the silencing spell barrier. The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke enveloped her senses, the music pounding off the walls. Multiple houses joined together, either dancing, playing games, or making out.

“This isn’t my scene.” Y/N mumbled to Mattheo as they pushed their way through some people and headed towards the corner.

The Riddle boy gave her hand a small squeeze as they ended up in the corner. There were couches and seats there, his friend group all gathered around each other. Draco was with Pansy, Enzo sat with Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle sat on one, and Theo and his new girlfriend together.

“Finally, started to think you bailed.” Draco spoke to Mattheo. Mattheo rolled his eyes, sitting down and gently putting Y/N in his lap and helping her get comfortable.

“Now, cousin, you know me better than that.” Mattheo replied, pulling Y/N into him so help her relax a bit better. It had been a month of this and she still could not wrap her head around it. He casually placed his hand on her knee while the other one was resting on the couch arm behind her back.

Pansy whispered something to Draco before standing up, “I’m going to get drinks,” she announced before turning around and facing the new couple. “Y/N why don’t you come with me?” She asked.

Y/N glanced at Mattheo, who nodded, before she stood up and gave her a small smile. She agreed following the Slytherin girl through the crowd. “Hope I didn’t come off strong,” Pansy laughed a bit. “We don’t know each other and seeing as you’ve settled Mattheo down. I think we should hang out some.”

Y/N gave a soft but nervous smile unsure of what to say. “Yeah, it just happened.” She shrugged to the Slytherin girl as they fixed drinks.

“Not your scene?” Pansy asked when she noticed the Gryffindor looking around. “Is that why you never came around with Theo?”

Y/N shrugged thinking about the question for a minute. “I just, my relationship with Theo was different than mine and Mattheo’s.” She spoke honestly. There was major differences, the main one being one was real and the other is fake. To prove to everyone that she was fine. To be honest, it was working well. She had no feelings for Theodore left, all she felt was a bit of betrayal but she was officially over it.

“I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that.” Pansy spoke as she nodded over to the couches the pair came from. Y/N turned and was met with Mattheo’s gaze on her from across the room. She sent him a small smile before turning back to face Pansy. “You must be special to him.”

Y/N let out a small laugh with the shake of her head. “I think we’re just having fun right now.” She lied as she helped Pansy grab the boys drinks.

“You might want to tell him that.” She suggested before leading the way back over to the friend group. She handed Draco and Enzo their drinks before sitting down with hers. Y/N carefully held the other drink in her hand out to Mattheo but settling back down on his lap. “I approve, Matt.” The Parkinson girl spoke looking between the newest couple of the group. “It’s good to have a new girl around.”

Y/N gave her a small smile as Mattheo smirked. He placed a soft kiss on the side of her head before taking a drink of the alcohol. Theodore's eyes burned through the couple as they engaged in conversation with Draco, Pansy, and Enzo. His head could not wrap around his best friend being with his ex-girlfriend, and her hanging out with his friends. She never wanted anything to do with his friends when they were together, and he did not see how Mattheo got her to hang out with them.

"What do you say?" Blaise broke Theo out of his thoughts as everyone was staring at the Nott boy and waiting for his reply. "You up for truth or dare?"

"Course." Theodore nodded as his arm settled around his new girlfriend.

Y/N leaned back against the arm rest of the couch again to get comfortable. She had heard stories of how deep their games get, and her anxiety was growing. She did not know what to expect or what she should watch out for. Enzo got up and got an empty alcohol bottle and placed it on the table in front of them. Pansy had volunteered to go first, so she gave the bottle a spin.

"Y/N," She smiled. "truth or dare?"

Y/N gave the girl a nervous smile before feeling Mattheo give her knee a squeeze. "dare." she spoke confidently with all the eyes on her.

"You're new here," Pansy started her sentence with a thoughtful look on her face. "I'll go easy... for now. I dare you to tell Mattheo the thing that annoys you the most about him."

Y/N shrugged and turned to look at the guy who's lap she was sat on. "Easy, the smoking." She spoke nonchalantly wrapping her arm around the back of his neck. "It's easy to ignore but that's it." Her hand instinctively playing with the hair on the back of his head.

Y/N leaned forward and twisted the bottle, and it stopped on Enzo. "Dare." The boy spoke up before the Nettleby girl could ask.

"Go ask that Ravenclaw girl out." Y/N dared Enzo knowing how he felt about his potions partner. Enzo gave the girl a look before standing up and going over to the group of girls that his crush was in. He talked to them and left smiling.

Enzo went to grab the bottle and give it a spin, when the last two of the friend group joined, sitting beside Mattheo and Y/N. Sean Nettleby and his girlfriend had decided to join their friends. After making sure that the newly added couple was playing, Enzo gave the bottle a spin and the game continued from there.

The game continued for many more rounds, until it was Veronica's, who Y/N had learned was Theo's new girlfriends name, turn. The girl had been snarky and rude towards the Nettlby girl all night, but everyone seemed to ignore it besides Mattheo, Sean, and Enzo. Veronica gave the bottle a good spin, the bottle unfortunately landing on Y/N when it stopped.

Y/N pressed her nerves down while she noticed the Slytherin's eyes darken and a smirk grow on her face. "Y/N, truth or dare." She asked in a sickly sweet tone.

Sean's eyes narrowed at the girl beside of him slightly, sensing that she was playing at a game. Mattheo's arms wrapped tighter around the girl in his lap, while Y/N's stomach churned thinking of her choices. "truth." she answered, with what she thought was a safer answer than dare.

"What's the real reason you and Theo broke up?" She asked with a smirk.

Y/N's raised her eyebrows in question before shrugging, "Theo broke up with me after he cheated on me with you." She muttered not showing any of her emotions.

Veronica's smirk grew, if that was even possible. "The real reason though? You're excluding the fact that you're a prude." She spoke noticing how Y/N's emotionless state dropped. "How I could fulfill his needs that you refused to give him."

"Roni-" Theo spoke causing the girl to turn her attention to her boyfriend.

"I'm done with this." Y/N muttered before standing up and hurriedly making her way through the crowd to get out of the Slytherin common room as fast as possible.

Enzo glanced around the group noticing Draco and Blaise sniggering about. Probably the fact that it was obvious that the innocent, good girl, Gryffindor, was just that. Also, the fact that her brother is her polar opposite. "Do you pride yourself on taking someone's boyfriend?" Enzo asked with a hint of anger in his voice.

Veronica shrugged, her same smirk on her face that she had worn for the last few moments. No one knew how to carry on the conversation, Enzo was angry, Mattheo had ran off, Sean was fixing to fight Theo for his choices, and Blaise, Draco, and Pansy needed to get over themselves.

Y/N was almost to the Gryffindor common room when she heard her name being called. Instead of turning around to face the voice, she kept walking hoping they would give up. She knew Mattheo though, he never stopped until he got what he wanted.

"Y/N!" He spoke again, this time within reach to grab her arm and stop her from walking. "Would you stop walking and let me speak with you."

Y/N stopped walking, the tears in her eyes almost falling as she turned around to look at the Riddle boy. "I do not want to talk to anyone right now, especially you." she whispered as the boy stepped closer.

"You didn't tell him?" Mattheo asked quietly, not wanting to startle the girl who was on the verge of breaking down.

Y/N shook her head as she tried to blink the tears of embarrassment away. "How do you tell your boyfriend that you felt comfortable enough to lose your virginity to your best friend, but you don't want to do that with him?" She asked carefully not knowing how he would take the information. "I played it off like I had never done anything before."

Mattheo searched the girl's face for something, anything, that would let him know how she felt. "You could have told him the truth."

Y/N shook her head, her anxiety becoming worse. "No one knows our past, Teo." She whispered bringing back his old nickname that he loved. "I thought you hated me after because you turned a cold shoulder, so I just played it off like nothing happened."

Mattheo shook his head, trying to go over every move he made after that. "I didn't hate you." he muttered.

"Could've fooled me." Y/N mumbled before turning around without another word and going to the Gryffindor common room, leaving a slightly hurt Mattheo behind.

Part four

Tag list: @yoichiislovie @justhavingsomefun1 @julesandro @prongsprincessworld @bruher @mattiesgirl @lafrone

[purrplegyuu]

Barely adults | So Junghwan

Warnings: Poor plot, First time (not penetration), masturbation, only clitoris stimulation actually, both of them are virgins, no actually loss of virginity but kind of, gramatical/spelling mistakes (maybe, english is not my first language), let me know if I'm missing something else.

Pairing: Best friend!Junghwan x Best friend!fem reader.

Word count: 1,6k

Masterlist

hiiiiiiiiiii!, it's been already a month since I started staning Treasure, but this is my first work about one of them. I wrote it at one am (i use to sleep at 8 pm) so that's why there might be a lot of mistakes. I would really appreciate for you to tell me if you find any mistake or if you'd like me to change something.

Remember my ask box is still open (even if i haven't answered any ask yet, so sorry to thos 4 people looool), so feel free to request some words. I write for Txt (obviously), Treasure, Zerobaseone, Seventeen and enhypen (maybe, I'm not sure yet).

That's everything, enjoy and have a nice day!

Us. Both barely adults who don’t really know what are we doing. Or what are we going to do.

“Have you thought about your career?” I ask. Is a trending topic in both of our houses since we both decided to take a gap year right after we graduated from high school. 

Yeah, we are planning on attending college, however, we were both too tired after three large years of taking high school a little too seriously. My parents were so mad when I told them about my decision, and even threatened me to throw me out of home. They eventually forgot about it, but before that happened, we were in a neverending fight for three months. 

His situation had been a little bit different.

He never told me about it, but I noticed. Starting from the day he told his parents about his decision, when he showed up to my bedroom window on the second floor (I still don’t really know how he made it) and asked to sleep on the couch of my room. Secondly, the one time I went to his house to hang out a bit and heard his parents telling him horrible things about how disappointed they were. And finally, tonight, when he asked me to meet at his older brother’s apartment, just for me to find him on the big bed with a pair of big, red eyes. 

I’ve got to say I understand our parents. He was first place in class and I was second. Must have been hard for them. And I have to confess it–I feel guilty, I am guilty. I was the one who proposed it and convinced him. Guess I just didn’t thought about the consequences.

However, it’s been nine months since those events now, and it’s already time for us to choose what college career are we going to study now.

“Junghwan?” I called him since he hadn’t answered. 

He’s looking right straight to his brother's desk next to the bed.

The silence grows more awkward and he just doesn’t seem to care I’ve came in his brother’s apartment minutes ago. 

“Junghwan!” I almost scream, finally catching his attention. He looks at me for a while before asking “Hm?”

“You finally decided what to study?” We’ve been both too lost about it. 

He shakes his head no before falling silent once again. 

After a few seconds, his hand lifts up from the edge of the bedroom, and offers it to me. I take it, and soon he pushes me onto his lap.

“Wa!” I yell, impressed by his sudden strength over me.

We’ve never been like this before. We’ve never been this close before. Yet, I’ve always dreamt about it.

“Ju-junghwan, you’re too clumsy” I jokingly said, trying to act like I didn’t get what is he doing. I move on his lap trying to stand up, however, he takes both of my hands and forces me to move closer to him. 

“”I’m not” he looks right into my eyes while breathing on my face. His breath feels addictive like drugs, it is hard for me to breathe, and my lower lip trembles from the massive desire of kissing him.

And it looks like he’s feeling just like me, because it takes him just a few seconds to melt his lips into mine in a way I’ve never seen before, not even in the best porno.

His lips move away from mine. Our foreheads touch, our noses meet, and we both remain silent for a few seconds while we catch our breath. And then, he kisses me again. His hand lets mine go, and I hold myself on his shoulders while one of his hands take the back of my neck and the other one takes my thigh from under the light green dress I decided to wear (for him, but that’s supposed to be a secret).

Everything is so fast, so rude and so forced it scares me. It doesn’t feel romantic but desperate; it doesn’t feel fluffy but feverish.

I take his hand when I feel it reaching my underwear, and cut the kiss while trying to breathe again. He looks at me confused. His red swollen lips wanting nothing but to kiss me again, his hand on my neck taking me strongly, his cheeks flushed from the heat of the moment and his dark pupils waiting for me to say something.

“Junghwan,”I try to speak but I’m just too embarrassed to speak–because I’m red as an apple, because I’ve just kissed him and because… “Junghwan, I haven’t… had sex yet”

He laughs lowly, taking me again into his hands to kiss me one more time. “Don’t worry,” He says between kisses. “me neither”

His lips move to my cheek, leaving some wet kisses before moving to my ear, then to my neck and finally my clavicles. My hands squeeze his shoulders strongly while lifting my dress slowly, making my skin crawl.

He stops kissing me to look right into my eyes to find my agreement, which he happens to find fastly before taking my dress off of my body. My hand runs down his abdomen, looking for the hem of his black hoodie to try to lift it up. He helps me do it, lifting his arms so I can take it off, and once I’m done, he switches our positions, throwing me to the bed. 

He goes back to kiss my lips while his hands caresses my skin slowly, playing with my sanity by taking the hem of my panties and drawing the outline of it. His lips move to my ear, leaving a kiss in there before whispering “You look so pretty… all messy and small under me” and “Isn’t it funny? You’re the one who always leads me, and now I’m on top of you” before laughing.

I’m the extrovert one, I’m the noisy one. Whenever someone approaches both of us, it is because they’re trying to know about me. I’ve heard people telling he’s always been only a shadow always walking behind me. Yeah, I’m socially a dom, but he’s been secretly a sexual dom all this time.

I turn around to look at his eyes, silently begging for him to not tease me any second more, and that’s when I feel his hand move in my panties, touching my skin everytime closer to my cunt. And I thought he wasn't going to give everything I asked for so easily, however, his finger started circling my clitoris right after he reached it. He kept on kissing my right clavicle while his other hand moved to my back, looking for the clasp of my bralette. He undoes it and takes it off completely. 

I feel my stomach tensing up for the first time, making me whine loudly and arch my back. “Have you touched yourself before?” He asks. I nod slowly.

“Ye-yes, but never came” And never felt that good.

My stomach tenses a second time, making me whine even louder and higher. I take his arm as if wanting to slow down. 

“Why?” He asks, making my cheeks even hotter. 

“I-I’ve never-“ A moan escapes from my throat. “I’ve never been able to.” Every time I touched myself, I would just stimulate my clitoris for minutes until the feeling is so overwhelming I can’t deal with it and stop touching it. I even thought I was asexual. However, I’ve always wanted to touch myself again every night after seeing Junghwan’s abs.

His fingers speed up, making me scream his name loudly while pleading for him to slow down, however, we both know that's not what I want. I squeeze his arm harder, my hips move by themselves, my back arches, my lower abdomen is so tense I feel I’m about to explode. And then, an overwhelming feeling floods me up, making me moan while my voice breaks out because of the way he kept touching my clit even after I came. Finally, he slowed down until he stayed still while his hand rested in my panties. 

My eyes still closed, my chest rising and falling as I try to catch my breath. And once I think I’m right, I open my eyes, just to find him looking at me closely with the sweetest smile ever. 

everything around me is spinning, my head hurts a little, I feel the sweat on my forehead and everything not called 'Junghwan' feels so unnecessary.

He hugs me, leaving a kiss on my forehead before turning on the lamp on the nightstand and turning the room’s lights off. He knows me so well, he knows I’m still afraid of the dark.

[theweirdwideweb]

we want the work blowout deets

I'll give you the tea but it will be lengthy and I'm going to cry.

Thank you for asking anon. To be honest with you I've been crying in bed about it for the past couple hours. I stood up just now and went to the bathroom and saw two big wet patches on my smiley face tshirt and it sucks so much. I'm so sad.

I could really use some feedback on this situation to be honest. OK. So the long story short is that I got a new supervisor a year ago and my work life has been hell ever since. First off, she doesn't understand what I do. She's never done my job. And she is THE micromanager from hell. For the first 7 months of the year she had me turning in a time card every week showing everything I did down to 5 minute increments. I turn the spreadsheet in on Friday, then every Monday we'd have a meeting where she'd tell me she just doesn't understand how I use my time. Why did it take so long to do X amount of invoices? She estimates it should take 2 minutes per invoice, but it took me 4 minutes per invoice. Like I said she knows nothing about my job and as many times as I've explained it she still "doesn't get it." It was demoralizing, nerve wracking, and frankly so insulting to my competence that I went to her boss (my old supervisor who I love). When she did nothing I went to HR with serious concerns about discrimination----it's no coincidence that I was granted some medical leave at the beginning of the year to address mental health concerns.

Yada yada yada, we made some changes and I don't have to turn in the spreadsheet anymore, but she is still making me email her every week with a list of tasks I didn't complete from the week before. It's still insulting but at least she agreed I'd only have to do it for another 3 months. Actually she said 1 month, but she's such a bitch that by the next HR meeting she claimed she never said 1 month and switched it to 3 months. She's a fucking moron, reader. She's dead fucking stupid. I really can't stress that enough. Dumb. It took her 15 years to get the position I got within 3 years of starting. The only reason she's where she is is seniority, personal relationships with management, and being a fucking bully. A dumb bully! Telling you how to prioritize your work! She's accused me recently of being unprepared for a meeting---a meeting that I hosted, provided all the material for, wrote all the notes on, fleshing out a new process she told me to start implementing but had zero idea how. She just tosses ideas at me and I'm left to figure out any kind of practical way to do it because---AGAIN---she doesn't know how to do my job. There've been other things too. She's a sneak humiliator. She's a button pusher. She's a moron. A big fat ugly moron who looks like Roz from Monster's Inc.

So on Thursday at 4:30pm, end of the day, suddenly a meeting with HR and this cunt appears on my calendar for 10am Friday (yesterday). I'm like---well here we go. She's either going to fire me or put me on a formal PIP. I'll be honest with you, I'd already decided to quit but I was holding out for my bonus in December. I entered the meeting feeling tranquil. I thought, "Do it. Pull the trigger. I'm ready for the end. Just fire me. Let me go. Release me."

But when the meeting starts it's just a touch base with our HR rep to see how everything is going. Are YOU fucking KIDDING me. Anyone would have thought the same thing I did. Of all the things my supervisor sucks dicks at, communication is the worst of all. She can't even spell. She can't string a sentence together. I mean it's shocking she writes at like a 6th grade level. I've seen emails she sent that are so garbled they are literally incomprehensible.

So I'm PISSED. I express how nerve-wracking the previous evening and all morning had been. We're off to a great start. She lets me know she's going to try to end the email process early. OK good. She tells me she's concerned because I haven't been providing personal feedback to her when prompted. Easy enough to explain: I hate your fucking guts, I'm trying to be a grey rock until I can quit. But I can't say that so I'm just like Alright.

Now here comes the bullshit! 1) She now wants me to ask permission in advance to work on weekends. I'm so overworked and stressed out I work like every weekend and now she wants me to ask her permission for the privilege of working on my day off. Guess who's never working a weekend for this company again. 2) The emails that just contain a list of tasks, right? Was 1 month, now 3 months, etc. She also changed the rules so that I have to provide a count of all the claims I processed across multiple platforms. And well---she just doesn't understand how I processed X number of claims and it took this long. In fact, she said, she counts 8 hours reported on my timecard she can't account for last week.

I lost it. I was openly hostile and belligerent. Fuck this fucking bitch. I cannot work for this vile idiot anymore. I actually used my IRL voice to poke holes in what she was saying and pointing out how fucking stupid it all is. Then she comes at me for not respecting her authority. As a reminder, just minutes before she'd complained about me having no feedback for her.

I left the meeting by refusing offers for additional time with the HR rep. I was in no place. I barely worked the rest of the day I was so upset and I didn't send my email, didn't complete my tasks, and didn't ask her permission to finish it up on the weekend (lol). I don't have another job lined up but this is the last time she's going to question whether I'm just straight up lying on my timecard or some kind of moron. That's it. This is her 100th strike for me.

Now here's why I'm so conflicted. 1) My previous supervisor (now my boss's boss) is going on a leave of absence like THIS WEEK for about a month and a half to treat her cancer. I care about her very much. I don't want to stress her out at the last second like this. 2) My bitch boss is also having a sudden serious health problem requiring her to be at the hospital multiple times a week. 3) On top of that, this stupid fucking cow has to take over my boss's boss's work while she's out for cancer. 4) They are absolutely fucked without me. For me to leave right now is a disaster. Add to that---the one person I manage and have a 100% rock solid relationship straight up told me that she's going to quit at some point and that if I quit she's walking out right behind me. She said this to me unprompted and I discouraged her from quitting. 5) I have a heart. The boss and the boss's boss are both having life problems that are more important than work. I think it's immoral to leave them in the lurch right now. They have serious health problems. As much as I hate my boss, at one point we were friends. My heart is breaking.

So I'm crying in bed. I can't live this way anymore. Toxic work stress has taken over my life. I get so miserable, but then some days it's just a job. It's a job I know how to do. I've been here 6 years. The health insurance is spectacular. I've got nothing lined up. I have adequate savings to get through a couple months of unemployment, but it's no guarantee I'll find a position that suits me in that timeframe. I have all these personal relationships at work (a mistake I will not repeat). I've let this job become part of my identity. I'm getting older. I'm 37 and I'm tired and I'm crazy and I just want peace. This position is fully remote---what if the next guy makes me work in person? My whole life will change. I just want this job to work like it has been for the 5 years before she took over. I'm so sad. I've felt this way so many times.

I want to quit first thing Monday. But I want to offer them the option of staying on until good boss gets back from cancer leave, so long as I don't have to work with illiterate cunt boss any more than is absolutely critical in the meantime. What do you think guys? My heart is breaking.

[ourvanishingghosts]

Will do. I actually was confused on what you meant by ex-trainers. But I originally thought that you meant that they were Pokémon hybrids. Then I thought you meant that you and them were trainer's together when you two were younger. I wrote my second idea because that made more sense since you didn't mention anything about Pokémon hybrids. I also apologize for taking so long and for the cringe. Piers is under read more.

Ex-Trainers to Lovers

Raihan

You haven't been back to Galar since you were 16. Your family moved to Unova after your 16th birthday. You had to say goodbye to everything and everyone you knew.

You were especially upset to be leaving your trainer buddy Raihan. You knew that it wouldn't be the same now as it was back then. You met up with Raihan at a coffee shop near his home and decided to catch up.

"How was Unova? Did you make a new trainer buddy while you were there?"

You sighed and looked at him.

"You know that I could never replace you, Rai. You were and will always be my only trainer buddy."

"I know. It's just that it felt empty without you here. Leon is fun to battle, but it's just not the same."

You put your hands on his hands which makes him look at you.

"Rai, your feelings are valid. Now how about I tell you about the twin subway masters I got to battle."

~11 months later~

You were in the stands watching Raihan and Leon battle.

Of course you were wearing your Raihan merch and cheering him on. You noticed how he was off his game during the battle. After it ended you ran to the locker room. You knocked and the door opened, so you walked in. You saw Raihan with his head in his hands and you sat down next to him.

"If you don't want to talk about it that's okay."

That's when Raihan kissed your cheek.

"I'm in love you, Y/N. If you don't feel the same way then I completely understand. I understand because we haven't seen each other since we were sixteen."

You kissed his cheek and he looked at you with a surprised expression.

"I've never stopped loving you, Rai."

Piers

You and Piers were once rival trainers. Throughout the years many thought you and Piers hated each other. But it was all a fun game to you two. After Piers became a gym leader you two slowly drifted away.

You were walking around a clothing store in Spikemuth and spotted Marnie. She saw you and the two of you started talking. That was until Piers showed up to check on Marnie.

“Hey Piers. How is the life of a Gym Leader treating you?”

You asked him trying to make conversation

“It’s been alright. I’m thinking about retiring and passing the gym onto Marnie.”

You nod and notice that Marnie managed to slip away from the conversation.

“How have you been, Y/N?”

“I’ve been okay. Life has been boring without you honestly.”

Piers blushed and tried to hide it.

“I mean I guess that’s because I’ve been busy with the gym and stuff.”

“Would you like to… um get dinner with me sometime? Unless you’re busy and stuff.”

“I’d like that, Y/N”

~4 months later~

You and Piers were just hanging out as his house catching up.

“I bet you have people trying to date you all the time, Piers.”

“Yeah. It’s dumb because I don’t like any of them. I’ve only liked one person romantically.”

You look at him surprised.

“Really? Who? What’s their name? Are they from Galar?”

“Um… I actually like you romantically, Y/N.”

You blush and hold his hands gently.

“Since when?”

“Since forever I guess.”

“I honestly thought you didn’t feel the same way, Piers.”

You and Piers were about to kiss, but Marnie came in and interrupted.

“If you two are going to kiss please do so in his room, please and thank you.”

She states as she goes to her room. You and Piers laugh at the situation and finally kiss.

[stellisketches]

Random MCD Headcanons that have nothing to do with anything (Part 5???)

Sorry I haven't made any real posts in forever. My drawing phone broke and college has been a bitch so i haven't really gotten the chance to make anything (though I finally made some more progress on the next chapter of my rewrite). In any case, please accept this next installment of head canons I wrote like 10 months ago and completely forgot about in lieu of anything that requires actual talent. Love y'all:

Laurance lost an incisor tooth in a fistfight when he was 19

When he got turned into a shadowknight it grew back, now he purposefully goes out of his way to loose teeth just cause he knows he can grow back an unlimited supply

Hayden has a cat named Bog Butter. He’s the color of butter and he found him in the bog. 

Vylad’s favorite vegetable is avocado

There are three major guard academies in Ru’aun: one in O’Khasis, one in Scaleswind, and one in Bright Port. 

Bright Port’s is the largest and most well known

O’Khasis’ is the most prestigious

Scaleswind’s academy is the most difficult

The bare minimum age to join is 14, though most people join between 16-19

Every guard must have a minimum of 2 years training to earn the actual title of Guard, however to serve in O’Khasis you need a minimum of 4 and for Scaleswind a minimum of 5. 

Part of that training includes apprenticeship, so they do get some in-field experience with their mentors (think unpaid intern)

Technically you can train for up to 8 years, however most people only train for 2-5.

Garroth was in academy for 3-4 (although to be fair he had been trained in sword fighting since he was like 9)

Laurance went for 5 years and Dante went for 6 ½ 

Dante lied about his age when he enlisted though

He was barely thirteen

Both went to the Bright Port Academy however they were in different divisions at different times since Dante is younger, so they really only saw each other in passing and never actually talked to one another

The only personal interaction they ever had was one time at the academy Laurance was trying to get back to his dorm after a night of copious drinking and partying and could barely walk out the front door of the bar. Dante (who was pretty tipsy himself) ended up half-carrying back to Laurance’s dorm before going back to his own. Neither of them remember this. 

Katelyn’s two older brothers’ names are Kaj and Khareem

Khareem is the oldest, then Kaj, then Katelyn, then Kacey

Occasionally, when he is absolutely, positively, 100% sure he is alone, Zane will sing to himself sometimes

Dante once did a Zane impression in front of everyone and Garroth got so freaked out by how realistic it sounded he made Dante swear he’d never do that voice around him again. 

The worst argument Kenmur and Emmalyn ever had during their marriage was whether their system was heliocentric or geocentric (Kenmur argued the former and Emmalyn argued the latter)

In most colleges across Ru’Aun, there is usually some statue of Enki that students will leave offerings to before their big exams

Offerings vary, but it’s usually something like food, money, trinkets, or paper. It varies on how important the exam/how desperate the students are

Kenmur went to one of these colleges for a few years

One time he fell asleep the night before his final exam and he woke up like an hour before his exam was supposed to take place and in a fit of panic he dumped his entire wallet in front of the statue. He passed with flying colors.

One time at the Narhakan college someone left a life-sized horse statue made out of gold. No one has any idea where it came from or who left it. It’s become kind of an urban legend among all the colleges

Zenix never learned how to read and by god he isn’t about to wimp out now

Garroth tried to teach him once and it… did not go well

Let’s just say Garroth still owes Emmalyn a book from that incident. And a new table. 

Zianna came from the same region that Esmund was native to

Katelyn absolutely despises the feeling of sand in her shoes

Dmitri and Nekoette raided the Bright Port guard academy kitchen the first night they got sworn in

Dmitri also had to go to the infirmary after getting shot in the arm by one of Nekoette’s loose arrows

Laurance can play the piano and used to play it at some of the taverns in Meteli

Levin and Malachi both know a good bit of Elvish thanks to spending so much time in Yggdrasil

They switch to Elvish for the majority of their arguments

[gojos-fr-bae]

Gojo Christmas HCs

Pairing: Gojo x gn!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 557

A/N: Heyy~~ I such a joke honestly, posting my Christmas fic on new years, but in my defence, I haven't had access to my laptop since I wrote Liar pt.4, anyways, Enjooooy

(Requests open)

You wake up to being snuggled tightly within his arms while it snows outside.

Refuses to get up anytime before 10am so u probably just end up falling back asleep.

Wakes you up to go downstairs and make breakfast “together” bc let’s be honest this man can’t even boil a rock.

Taking a bath/shower together is a MUST

Deeefinately forces you two to wear matching pjs or like those sets where the guy wears the pants and no shirt and the girl wears like, the huge shirt without pants or sum

You would walk into the living room and just find it like, STUFFED with presents and he’ll just sit there with the smuggest grin on his face while u just stand there looking stupid.

If it’s your first Christmas together I can imagine he would be scared out of his mind about whether you would like the presents, whether you are proud or happy with him, whether they were even good enough for you. E.t.c (he would never let it show though)

If it isn’t your first Christmas together though he would probably still be nervous but probably more confident in his gifts. (he just wants to make you happyy*sobs*)

I can see him getting you sentimental stuff like an instrument you had as a kid or your favourite book but also just random expensive shit like a diamond bracelet. Or something batshit crazy like a lambo or sum.

I feel like you would get him something extremely sentimental and something he really wants, and you give the sentimental one second to catch him off guard.

Like imagine giving him the most expensive box of mochi you spent an entire month's worth of your salary and he gets all excited then you shyly slide him a scrap book full of pictures with you two throughout the whole year or since you got together.

And you do that sappy thing where you leave half of it empty for memory’s you’ll make in the future. Ewwwwwwwwwwwww

I feel like he would just look down at it too stunned to speak with big bug eyes and when he looks back up at you he starts tearing up

He would hug you and like, genuinely just breakdown into sobs, and he won’t stop for like another good two minutes.

Like, that is genuinely the best, sweetest most heartfelt gift he has ever received.

From then on I can fully see him always carrying a polaroid with him everywhere he goes just take pictures of you two together, (but mostly just you really) And when he gets home he pulls out the scrapbook and gets to work.

I can just imagine like, walking into your room and seeing him in his pjs on the bed doing that thing where you lie on your stomach and kick your legs back and forth and he’s like, sticking a picture or drawing hearts around a picture of you with his tongue sticking out. Akduhcrtfrw38r7fyu efgujd (oops, I forgot this is a Christmas HC)

I can’t imagine him really wanting to go out so you would probably stay at home baking cookies, snuggling watching movies and doing all that lovey dovey shit couples do.

The best Christmas he has ever had in his entire life, and one he definitely won’t be forgetting…ever

Belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Honestly, Thank GOD 2023 is finally over, worst year of my entire life, can't wait for it to end.

Also, thank you for all the support throughout this year, means the most to me.

© gojos-fr-bae

Pls lemme know if I forgot to tag u, i'm kinda rusty

[minimickzy]

Pretty In Pink || Misty Quigley

For the lovely and talented @peach-and-bugs sometimes we all need a story to escape into.

-and guys I haven't written fanfic since like 2019- please be kind lol! I wanted to have this done tonight so I actually wrote this during a 4 hour car ride (Also Blane is the love interest from Pretty in Pink and Molly Ringwald is the actress)

Characters: Misty Quigley (pre-crash) x Reader,

Word count: 2118

Sophomore year of high school you knew two things about Misty Quigley.

She was incredibly misunderstood and

She was in desperate need of a friend.

You knew it would be easy to at least start a friendship with Misty. She was talkative and was happy to get any type of attention. All you had to do was slide into one of the many empty seats at her lunch table and smile. From there it was never-ending conversation and hangouts.

To your surprise- and slight concern- Misty had walls built up pretty damn high and wasn’t easy to gain the trust of. She picked up more social cues than people gave her credit for. She had just been bullied to the point that the idea of you- let alone anyone- actually wanting to be her friend was unbelievable.

When you finally cracked her you could see her personality flip. Her eyes lit up, and smiles filled her whole face not just her lips, even her posture straightened up a bit. Who knew all it would take is saying that you liked The Phantom Of The Opera?

As soon as the walls fell she was an open book. Entrusting you with her deepest, darkest, secrets and in turn listening to yours. She would pick out tiny little things about you and gush about them to anyone who would listen. She even became the equipment manager after you joined the soccer team.

After two years of friendship, you couldn’t imagine life without her. And she seemed to feel the same.

Your friendship with Misty was different. No one outside of the two of you understood. She was just a little… quirky. She would put notes in your locker every day with complaints- sometimes coming off as tiny but stalkerish but you found it endearing. Sometimes if someone was even the tiniest bit rude to you, the next day their locker would randomly have rotten fruit in it. (one time a guy's car had its tires slashed after he called you a bitch).

People harassed her incessantly. You tried to stop it, even getting into a few fights over it but it was never ending and Misty had become a pro at brushing it off.

After all, as long as she had you it didn’t feel like it mattered what others said.

You weren’t sure when your feelings had changed from platonic toward your best friend. You had only realized when, as embarrassing as this is, you had walked in on Van and Tai in the locker room. They didn’t see you- thank god- but it was a push you needed to confront that seeing them felt right the way couples like Jackie and Jeff never had.

That event sent you into a spiral. You thought back to your so-called crushes. All boys from school- none of which you realized you had any urge to even hold a conversation with. You started to analyze movies. Seeing how the love interests interacted, looked at each other.

It started to click. There was only one person you felt that way towards.

A month or two into senior year was when everything came to a crashing halt. You and Misty were having your usual movie night like all other Saturdays. Slightly curled into each other on Misty’s bed. Her hair was pulled half up, p.j. top slowly slipping further down her shoulder. She had put her retainer in before the movie so all of her little quips had a slight lisp to them.

Adorable. She was simply adorable. This was a common thing for you to acknowledge now. What made tonight stand out from all the other movie nights for the past two years was a small conversation between the two of you.

Pretty in Pink played on the screen. It was one of the few VHSs that she owned, you two had probably seen it a good 20 times. You didn’t mind though. It was great background noise for your thoughts. Wandering from the last soccer match, to Misty’s bouncy curls, to the math quiz you should probably study for.

“Hey, do you want to know a secret?” You peered down to meet Misty’s eyes, her neck craning to look up at you from her position slightly further down the bed.

“Always.” You cracked a smile at how giddy she had become.

She pushed herself up to face you, kneeling- waiting for you to mirror her.

When you were sat facing her she took your hands, lifting and dropping them as she spoke. “You have to promise not to tell.”

“Of course.”

“Like never. Not a single soul.”

You took one of your hands from hers and stuck your pinkie in front of her face.

“Swear”

She took your pinky in hers and smiled, momentarily squeezing before wrapping her hand back around yours and setting them in her lap.

“Okay so-“ she whispered, looking around with wide eyes to check that no one was around, “you know when I said that I thought Blane was hot?”

You nodded, a little confused about where this was going.

“That wasn’t true- I just wanted to be him. Molly Ringwald is so pretty! I know it’s like totally wild but I want to kiss her so bad!”

Your brain stopped. Just for a second.

“Oh!” It came out as a yell, much more sudden and loud than you had meant. “I totally get that- yeah like- how could you not want to kiss her?” You could feel your hands becoming more clammy by the second.

“I know right!” Misty giggled and rolled her eyes happily as she turned to face the screen again.

With her gaze locked onto the TV, you took a deep breath- you felt like you needed to run away. Escape back into the safety of not having to confront your feelings. But you knew you had to stay. Firstly- did wanting to kiss a girl even mean that you’re gay? Or did girls do that to friends and people they admire? And if Misty had just come out to you- If you left now she’d probably think that you were disgusted by her.

So you stayed. Trying to act as normal as possible. Pretending to be asleep to avoid late-night conversations that normally lead to loose lips.

~

Come practice on Monday, the sleepover was still on your mind. Misty picked up on your funk. She always did. You brushed it off that you were up late the night before. It wasn’t a total lie. You spent half of the night replaying every moment in Misty and your relationship, trying to find any hints.

You earned a few glares from Tai and Jackie. You didn’t blame them. You were off your game.

At the end of the day, Misty was heading towards you at the team bench but Coach Martinez called her over to help with clean up before she could reach you.

You let out a sigh of relief, wanting to avoid any more awkwardness for the day.

“Woah, trouble in paradise?” You jumped a bit. You hadn’t realized Van was still on the bench behind you.

“Huh?” You asked stupidly.

“I just thought you and Misty were close. Are you good?”

Van was nothing if not perceptive. No one on the team understood- or even seemed to like Misty. Most of them refused to interact with you outside of practice too. Acting as if you’d pass on her “crazy” to them.

Van was never like that though. She seemed to have her own run-ins with bullying. She would sometimes make small comments and jokes but would still be kind to both of you.

You looked at her. Trying to gauge if she actually wanted to know if you were good. Her look wavered, becoming more serious. “Dude, are you okay?” She tried again.

You sat down next to her. Your eyes refused to meet hers as you looked out across the field towards the school.

It was just the two of you.

“Can I ask you something personal?” You knew that Van would say yes. It didn’t matter that the two of you weren’t close. She was always there for anyone on the team.

“Sure- I reserve the right to plead the fifth though.” Always one to try and keep it light.

“How did you figure out that you and Tai were gay?”

Van sucked in a breath next to you. “I uh- Tai isn’t-“

You finally turned to her. “I saw you guys. In the locker room.” The redheads face went pale. She seemed to brace for impact. “I won’t tell anyone. I just am confused. I don’t know who else to talk to.”

Van didn’t relax.

“Please”, the variability in your voice surprising even you.

She nodded and it was her turn to break the eye contact. “I don’t really know. To be honest I thought Tai was straight. Right up until the moment she kissed me. Fuck even after that I thought she was just a curious straight girl who pegged me for a dyke.” She let out a dry chuckle and winced towards the ground. “Do you think you’re gay? Or…”

You nodded. “Yeah, I figured that out a few months ago.”

Silence lingered between the two of you. Van kicked her feet, ripping up bits of dirt and grass with her cleats.

She spoke up gently, “Do you think Misty is gay?”

You dropped your head into your hands. “I don’t know. I think so.”

“Look- fuck- I don’t know Misty and I don’t really understand her but I do see a lot as a goalie. And Misty is obsessed with you. She looks at you like you hung the fucking moon.”

You chuckled, “Yeah- I know. But she’s always been like that. I think she’d treat anyone who was her friend that way.”

“Or she’s just always been into you.”

“Oh.” You furrowed your eyebrows, “I guess I didn’t think about that.”

Van barked out a laugh. The heaviness of the conversation gone. “Has she ever hinted at being into girls?”

“Well…” she looked at you expectingly, you debated on keeping Misty’s secret but decided that after Van had opened up and trusted you about her and Tai it's only fair you return the favor “On Saturday she told me that she was into Molly Ringwald.”

“Dude that’s totally dyke behavior!” She slaps your arm.

The two of you walked back to the locker room together. Misty was waiting for you, as she always did. As soon as her eyes landed on Van you could see the anger- jealousy?- immediately.

“Woah, Misty, I’m not trying to steal your lady- cool it” Van held her hands up in surrender and turned to wink at you so Misty couldn’t see.

Misty huffed and tapped her foot as Van quickly grabbed her stuff and saluted to you as she pushed open the locker room door.

When the door banged shut after her Misty pinned you to your spot with a worried look.

She opened her mouth and you saw her lip quiver. So naturally you blurted out, “I’m gay!”

Her mouth snapped shut and she looked at you confused. “Okay?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “that’s it?”

“Well yeah- I mean I already knew that?”

“What?”

“We’ve been together for like a few months.” You looked at her like she grew a second head, “Misty what the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“Do you not remember?” She let out a exacerbated sigh and laughed lightly, “This makes so much sense! I was wondering why you got so freaked out about the Molly Ringwald thing. I thought you were jelous and mad at me!” She laughed again and moved to take one of your hands in hers as you stood in shock. “When we were on the bus back from the game at West Side, and I told you that I loved you and you said I love you too. I meant like love love.”

You took your free hand and face plamed. “Oh my god. You’re joking.”

She laughed gleefully, “No! I was getting worried you were losing interest or someone else had got your attention.”

“I don’t think that’s even possible.”

Her eyes were sprakingly under the bright fluoresces of the locker room. “Does that mean that I can kiss you? Because believe me I’ve been holding back.” She squeezed your hand excitingly and shifted more into your space.

“Yeah- that sounds cool.” You were still smiling when she lunged towards you, bumping you back into the lockers with the force. You laughed into the kiss and she let out a tiny squeal of glee.

~

Send in yellowjackets requests!

[its-actually-minicika]

The Harshest Winters (18+!)

Part 4;;

Pairing(s): Jacaerys x Reader x bookcanon Aemond;

Warnings: all of them lmao - dubious consent, canon typical violence, lack of Jacaerys, death, blood and gore, Aemond - who forces the reader into holy matrimony in this one (oh yes it's happening), and of course engages in petty masturbation (it's not THW without him going ham on his own hand ♡)

Word Count: 15k+ (wowza i know)

Author's Note: Low and behold, part 4 is here!! Originally, this was supposed to be a 4 parts series, but that obviously isn't the case anymore. THIS TOOK SO LONG AND I'M SO SORRY - I had major issues with the tag list, and at some point, tumblr wouldn’t let me post this; I unfortunately couldn't solve those problems, no matter how hard I tried, so most of you haven't been properly tagged :") This update is a hot mess, and I haven't actually had the time to read through all the paragraphs that I wrote. I SHALL BE BACK TO EDIT

A huge thank you to everyone who's still following the story, though, and I hope you enjoy!

A war is in its midst.

When everyone else is readying themselves for the following decisive battles, you and Aemond are busy playing house.

Things get heated in Harrenhal, and one must decide when and where to pick their side.

The contact of the hot water upon Aemond’s ivory skin made the man shudder in naught but blinding pain. Achingly slow movements, followed by slow grunts echoed throughout the room – and Lady Tully stilled upon the silken sheets, moving her eyes over the book’s page for the thousandth time since he returned; thus driving all her peace away.

The baths Aemond determinedly took in the raptures of the late-night hours never failed to make her uncomfortable, and keep her on edge. Even so, being forced to hear the pained man move with such little stability and lack of confidence almost teetered the girl to the brink of madness.

Harrenhal had been in shambles since its proud conqueror beckoned his return on dragon back that very eve. Two young maids shouted for maesters, and Alys Rivers nearly caused a scene. As he got off his leather saddle, the Prince all but collapsed from tiredness and blood loss.

'He commanded his features to turn brave and taciturn,' his paramour had told her, 'as to not let a single hint of his condition spread throughout the Keep. My poor Aemond.'

The fool had been reached by an arrow.

An impressive feat, one had to agree – and wonder further on the identity of the courageous shot.

‘Struck right between his shoulder blade and chest,’ she had heard some lost girl utter, ‘It is a miracle he’s still alive.’

… Or the Gods’ cruelest punishment, the Lady compelled within her thoughts.

“Mmhh…” Aemond’s rugged breath deterred the girl to raise her glassy orbs from the confinement of the wilting pages. She schooled her eyes to stay above any level of indiscretion, and gingerly followed the trail of blood mixed with dirt, that seeped into and dirtied the once clear water.

Now that her curiosity was quenched, she could freely look away again.

Half a heartbeat later, she relented and surrendered in the face of his quarrelsome state. The Prince bit the inside of his cheek again, and raised his hand up to allow droplets of liquid to trail past his wounded shoulder… but to no avail.

“You could call in a maid, you know.” Her raspy voice descended upon his struggling body. Sooner than she may have liked, the Bliss of Riverrun closed her eyes, and concentrated on the languid noises that the Prince was making.

Seconds felt like pending minutes, until Aemond One-Eye graced her with a reply.

“I don’t need a maid to help me.”

Then that was that, the young woman soon concluded, returning her attention to the opened book.

'The Philosophies of the Riverlands', however, provided little to no aid to the situation at hand – and her overall station.

For she knew, perhaps far too well, that she had to play a different game than the one they'd engaged in, months prior to her imprisonment in that cursed place.

Insufferable man… she vexed him cruelly inside her head, I hoped by now you would be dead.

She raised one leg from the mattress that embedded her, and shifted it, so as to allow her limbs to hang lowly by the edge of the bed. Her thoughts formed and went as they pleased, but the girl settled on one final reach.

He hadn't even allowed Alys to help him undress. Suggesting her now was a deliberate waste of her time.

Not only that, but she still had to win his trust. Somehow, she promised herself, no matter what it takes, she'd do it.

Forcibly she rose from the bed, and made her way slowly towards his wide basin, fixating her eyes on the stone floor ahead. Her throat closed in on itself, and the girl pursed her lips into a tight line, whilst exhaling through her nose. It took a while for her to calm herself.

"... What about me?" She asked in a leveled tone.

Her gaze met his piercing orb, and the Lady nearly took a small step back. His face long washed the wave of shock from his sharp, Targaryen features – Aemond awaited her next words with a quirked up brow and a slight bite o'r his inner cheek. He seemed more than interested in her meek suggestion.

His wordless approval had left her speechless and, for a while, only her heartbeat emerged in her ears.

The Prince Regent trailed his eye hungrily over her extended arm. He took in a sharp breath as she grasped the rough sponge from his hand, and drained it of the putrid smell. She confidently brought it up to him – and teasingly trailed it over his hard chest, down to his lower abdomen, up again to his slouching shoulder.

"This… will hurt you a little bit." She whispered to him, skillfully averting her face from the man in question.

He gritted his teeth harshly, and almost let out a groan from his parted lips – with his dexterous and long fingers, he gripped the edge of the wooden basin, but dared not to look away from the kneeling Lady – choosing, instead, to focus on singling out her every soft and hard feature.

On her end, (Y/N) dabbed the piece of cloth over his wound gently, chanting inside her head to remain small and taciturn.

He shan't get more of a reaction from me, she promised herself through the span of an agonized huff, as she focused in on the task at hand.

Aemond's white skin revealed itself from the washed patches of dirt, and the Prince sighed a deep breath of contentment, as he felt his body be unintentionally caressed by her. His eye fluttered close, and a slight furrow of his tantalizing brow indicated the uncommon pleasure he took from their sporadic intimacy.

The two remain in awkward silence - the only noise that reached the girl's ears being the rattle of water and the occasional hiss from Aemond.

"... I'm sorry." She strained herself to whisper, whilst her hair fell seemingly out of place. "This looks as if it's painful."

The Prince Protector mirrored her stance, and glanced at her through the thick curtain of long, silver hair – the lilac in his eye complimenting the heatwaves of fire that danced across his marred skin.

"It's not painful." His gruff voice echoed in reply.

"... You –" The Lady began, but stopped on her tracks to level her voice again, by the aid of coughing in the back of her hand.

"You don't have to pretend in my company, you know."

She graced him with a forced smile, one she hoped seemed light enough to fool him. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't make fun of you."

Her eyes trailed over to the harsh stone floor, wrinkling at their sharpened ends – "When I was three and ten," she began, "My youngest brother betted against one of the stable boys: that he could ride faster than anyone on his horse, Middle." Her eyes spasmed close at the memory, and the girl wistfully smiled to herself, "The fool scraped his knees in that dreadful race. Middle threw him right out of his expensive saddle."

As she spoke, she brought the rough cloth over Aemond's shoulder blade, right above his wound, and began scrubbing the dirt that adorned over his skin.

"He didn’t want anyone to know what had happened, so he made me clean it, in the stead of a maester." The Lady let out an airy laugh, as her nose scrunched up with a pang of fondness. "I have never seen a boy get so worked up over a simple scratch before."

Aemond hummed in admission – half relieved by the distraction she was offering, and half worried by the impending pain he would soon feel. He shifted from inside the basin, as if to reach for the sponge in her hand himself, but the girl simply laid her hand away.

Her musings came to an abrupt end. She retreated on her steps lightly, and offered the Crown Prince a quirked-up brow.

"You need to stay put, Prince Aemond. Otherwise, I risk causing you more harm than good." She swallowed thickly, and only shook her head, "Your wound needs thorough cleaning, Your Grace. And it is too far in the back for you to clean it by yourself."

She glanced at his face anew, and let out a tumbling sigh as he nodded his head again, trying his hardest to relax into her touch once more.

Part of him remained put up – the bulk of his chest and shoulders still gloriously hunched over, ready to bolt up at any given moment.

"... I hate to admit it. I thought he was exaggerating then – with the discomfort which he feigned was feeling."

Her lips pursed into a tight line, as she glanced quickly at the laying man, "But how can one make fun of another's state of pain?"

A sympathetic look was shared between them.

Her eyes softened in admission to his furrowed brows and descended features. In that exact light, she couldn’t help but notice how much he resembled her Jace.

"Pain makes us human. And it's a reminder for us: to really cherish our times of incandescent joy."

The break of a cold sweat kissed over Aemond's forehead; droplets of which gathered at the base of his left eye, where his leather eyepatch stayed secured.

The girl pushed down a disdainful puff, as her eyes trailed him over, from the rosy blotch of skin, back to his hawk-like eye.

"Leather retains heat." She murmured before she could catch herself.

The Targaryen Prince expelled a deep breath, and, as her hand came to rest over the buckle that secured his patch into place, he primed his lips into a downturned arch.

"It can't be good for you to always keep it on."

"The sight of it frightens others. I don't want it to frighten you."

"I've seen you without your eyepatch before."

"That was different. This time… is different."

The latter of his words sent a shiver down her bent spine. Nothing is different, she was aching to say. Her lips pressed anxiously together, and the girl offered Aemond a curt nod. Just as she was about to pull her hand away from the nape of his neck, the Prince's wet palm came up to stop her.

His fingers shakily entwined with hers. The deep callouses of his hand scratched the softness of her open palm.

For a while, Time herself froze before them.

(Y/N) came to avert her gaze, but Aemond's eye feverishly searched for the relieving clash of hers. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the Lady of Riverrun nearly choked onto the clogged-up air.

His silver locks curled slightly at their ends – the dampness of the room striking its claim over his perfectly straight strands of hair. In his own right, Aemond could be called beautiful. His striking Targaryen features might have ensured the favor of many young maidens, were it not for his rash and impetuous attitude, the bite that rested in his character – which no doubt spread like a disease over his life at Court.

"Look at me." Against his better judgment, and his innermost turmoil, Aemond allowed her small fingers to trail over the buckle of his blinder again. He drew out a comforting sigh, and, with her hand still in his, gently slid the leather off.

He sucked in a quiet breath, as the coldness of the air enveloped his throbbing eyelids.

The poise in his composure was cracking at the seams, with the passing of each second, during which she settled to remain silent.

Eventually, her hand came to rest over his face again. Her dexterous fingers began to leisurely wipe the sweat from his brow, his eye, by submerging them into the lukewarm water, and bringing them over and over to his clenched face.

"I'm sorry." She settled on to say instead, once the breaching of kind words failed to meet her. "No one deserves to be left without an eye. No one deserves such appalling cruelty."

"You appear to be sorry an awful lot this evening, My Lady." Aemond choked under his breath, taken aback by her gentle movements and sainty utter.

"I spend the better part of my days in the company of my own thoughts." She huskily reminded him, "... It's been increasingly easier for me to reflect on my past mistakes."

Wordless from her hoax admission, and desperate to feel her hands explore him further, the Targaryen Prince rose heavily from the dirtied water – his chest coming directly to her field of vision.

The girl let out a cutting gasp, as she turned swiftly on her heel, refusing to glance at his modesty, not any longer than she'd already had.

Her eyelids fluttered close, and she shifted from one foot to the other, but to no avail. For in spite of her desire to run away, the Lady found herself hammered in place.

The proximity between them laid out to be a problem – Aemond let out a frustrated sigh, and turned her head around with the clasping of his untouched arm. Two of his fingers came to rest at the base of her cheek and chin; the Prince let out a satisfied hum, as her body trembled in slight shock at their change of position.

"Gevie…" He muttered to no one but himself.

His cock stood proudly at attention, kissing over his prominent abdomen, trailing long past his belly button. Every now and then, white pearls pooled to the base of his length, weeping from his angry tip, trailing past his stones in the reach of the water below him.

"Look at me." He breathed again, and his sweet Lady obeyed.

She threw him a dejected look: half harsh and cold, half hardened and scorned. The tips of her ears matched the redness of her pale cheeks. Her eyes cast their curious glow throughout every corner of the room, yet stayed away from the scorn of indiscretion that called out to her, only centimeters below her swollen lips.

Aemond's thumb flicked once over her crimson labium, but the man sighed, seemingly discouraged, and settled upon gripping her dainty wrist instead.

"Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon, issa dōna jorrāelagon. Nyke kivio ao naejot sagon gīda."

The gentleness that oozed from his voice could have had anyone fooled. But not her. The translations of the words he muttered against the skin of her wrist were lost on her, but the Lady of Riverrun still singled out a most protruding word.

He had never failed to call her 'his tormenting love'.

The girl's breath rose and fell with each agonizing word that befell over her face.

"Mēre tubis ao jāhor jaelagon issa." Aemond sighed against her wrist.

'I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin. I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin. I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin.'

Her words rang harsh and true inside her head – and, much like it was back then, her heart harbored no honorable intent towards the Trident's Terror.

He burnt your entire homeland, she chastised herself harshly, He killed thousands. Every day, even more find their end by the breath of his dragon. By the way of his wrath.

The ache in her heartbeat rang loudly inside her ears – her every pore aligned with her wish to run away, and her mind was screaming at her to retreat to a corner.

Comparing him to Jacaerys was a laughable feat.

"Let's… just finish getting you cleaned up, Your Grace" She struggled to finally suggest out loud, through the timid inflection of her outwardly calm voice.

She slithered her face away from his grasp, and began draining the sponge of the dark mud again.

Aemond sighed, and lowered himself back into the cold water – his lone eye never leaving the mould of her smaller frame.

"I heard that conversation… sometimes distracts the ill from the discomfort of the cleaning process, Your Grace."

Now turned to his exposed back, the girl's hand wavered over his punctured shoulder. She waited three, perhaps four seconds, before her arm finally breached contact with the wounded flesh.

Aemond took in a sharp breath, but remained otherwise silent, until she prompted him to speak again.

"How… how did such a thing even come to happen?"

Aemond's chest rose and fell with each labored pant. His eye remained tightly closed, his jaw awfully set. Her question registered into his mind, and a reply formed at the former base of his thoughts.

For a while, however, the One-Eyed Prince remained quiet – weighing the option of telling her the truth rather carefully.

"A Frey company was marching South." He hissed as her light hand came over his flesh, applying soft pressure in its wake. "The fog of the morning masked them from me – but Vhagar's shadow still went right above their heads."

The woman brought her free hand to rest over his lower back, and her fingers rubbed soothing circles into the dampness of his skin. "It was… very lucky that you didn't get more hurt."

She scorned herself inwardly, but kept her curiosity at bay. She wouldn’t ask him whether the company had risen victorious, or if he burnt all those men to the ground.

The latter option, in any case, seemed more than likely.

The Crown Prince tensed visibly, but didn’t scoot away from her soothing touch. A deep sigh parted from his cracked lips, and the man revelled at their sudden closeness.

He ached to talk to her, to plead with her to welcome him inside her heart – and into her bed. He could feel his own beat loudly, and his body trembled in unquenched lust and rage.

Still, he knew it was too soon for that.

Not once during their rash acquaintance, did the girl before he talk with so much interest about his day with him.

His thoughts trailed to Alys, and Aemond wondered if half her new admission was owed to her – if indeed the two women secured a friendship within the last two weeks, if his whore became her confidant, if she breathed in her trust in him.

He would have to talk to her later. Thank her, if he was feeling apt and generous.

(Y/N)'s breath caught in the shell of his ear, and the Targaryen Prince nibbled at his lower lip. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down; the coldness of the water gave him the strength to concentrate, by the sliding of small ripples down his exposed chest and abdomen. The ache of his wound was a small price to pay, if only to feel her knuckles working against his back.

"There we are. All done, Your Grace."

She rose up from her kneeling stance, wincing at the sudden change of perspective, and at the throb of her tired knees. She gingerly presented the clean set of clothes and bathing robes to him. Her head remained turned to the side, and her hand instantly let go of the heavy clothes, the moment his palm came into contact with them.

In the stead of returning to sit idly by their resting place, the woman graced him with a final look, and let out a faint mutter. "I'll leave you to it."

She wavered but a moment, and turned her stare to the ruined clothes; the ones that Aemond had so carelessly discarded on the floor, as he prepared for his undeserved nightly soak.

The shadow of a long-laid plan gleamed beneath her silent gaze.

"I can wash them for you tomorrow – after my bath. It might be wiser to keep the nature of your wounds hidden. The maids needn't worry over how much blood you lost."

Aemond's brows furrowed in slight shock, and the Prince remained wordless in the face of her sensible suggestion.

And yet her eyes spoke with so much sincerity, that he gleefully allowed the pang of hope to warm his unforgiving features.

"As you wish." He rumbled out, while forcing himself to move his stare to the folded clothes before him.

His eye trailed back to his hands' agile ministrations, and Aemond soon began to roll over his linen breeches, covering his half-hard cock with the help of the rough material.

A throaty groan etched from deep within his throat, however, as he reached for the pristine shirt.

The girl stopped in her tracks, and a deep scowl settled over her fair features.

The struggle he was undergoing would have been music to her ears – were it not for the solidarity of her position. For the millionth time that night, she reminded herself of her plan and her desperation to escape.

Thus, unbeknownst to her own better judgment, the Lady compelled herself to seek him further.

Although her words failed to assist her, the way she gingerly reached, with her hand wide and outstretched, made Aemond aware of her pending intent.

Their bodies were inches apart. The girl sucked in a hurried breath, and neglected to exhale it as the oxygen hit her lungs.

Aemond was burning up – and whether that was from the lack of fresh air within the confining room, or the first telltale sign of fever, or her – he was lost on saying anymore. His weakened arm slithered into the sleeve of his shirt, though the pain was long forgotten.

And instead of focusing on his poised movements, his glassy eye ran hungrily over her face and hypnotic features.

(Y/N)'s fingertips grazed over the light material. Her tired eyes softened at the familiar feeling. The threat of tears beckoned at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them all away in a hasty movement. Melancholy ate away at her, far more often than she knew was wise to allow.

Still she remembered, if only for a moment, the raptures of Jacaerys' warm embrace. And how, in the heat of summer, that very same cloth felt against her heated cheek.

They must have had the same seamstress, the same tailor. Of course, she thought to herself in a bitter manner, after all, they are both Princes.

… Were.

But if she closed her eyes, she could pretend – No, she chastised herself fully, such a thing just cannot be. And you'd be a fool to attempt to it.

The magnetic pull between them trebly pried the two souls together. And it would be yet another minute, until (Y/N) finally took a step back, opening her mouth to announce the end of her intimate task.

Her eyes fell on the stone hard floor, and she carefully turned her back around him.

The long waves of her hair shifted over her modest nightgown, covering her mounds of flesh with a slight shift to the left.

"I'm going to sleep." She pathetically uttered, as the warmth that emanated from Aemond's form not moments prior, still fell heavily over her slight frame.

Mechanically she gripped the satin sheets and engulfed herself with them – a slight comfort came over her, as the coldness of the unused bedding fanned gently over her scorched limbs.

Aemond remained stuck in place, and a heaved breath rumbled from within his chest. The red in his cheeks would have put both their Houses' seals to shame – For once, he was glad she wasn't looking his way.

***

The rest of the night was spent in washed quietness.

And his Lady might have made it up: the dip at the edge of the bed, the smell of fresh pine and wildfire that caressed her in her sleepy state, and the slight "Thank you" that dabbled from her captor's lips.

“You plan to ride on dragon-back again? So soon?” The echo of Alys' voice carried her worry throughout the silent clearing.

The first rays of sunlight caught flame into her raven hair, lighting her features in such a way, that it accentuated her every perpetual scar and wrinkle. The fire inside her eyes could rival the one of a trueborn Targaryen, were it not for her strong outer appearance.

Aemond moved his body at a leisurely pace, not even bothering to throw the woman one of his usual vexing looks.

"Do you think dear nuncle will put a stop to the siege of the Twins, should the word spread about my condition?"

His cutting words rendered the woman speechless, and the Rivers witch simply clicked her tongue, whilst glancing at the green grass below her.

"War awaits no one, my dear." He asserted definitively, as he gripped onto Vhagar's long bridles.

The mighty beast let out a shaken roar, as Aemond winced once his wounded shoulder made light contact with her dark-green scales.

"Gīda ilagon, Vhagar. Sagon nykeēdrosa... Sȳz hāedar." He instinctively reached for her, and caressed her lower belly with one of his gloved hands.

At their calm exchange, Alys bit over her lower lip, harshly enough to draw her own blood. "You should stay." She managed to draw out, "At least a while – going in search of your uncle today, instead of tomorrow, won't make a difference to your brother's cause."

But her voice of reason reached deafened ears. For Aemond Targaryen was set on paying the debt he owed. The debt he agreed to take on, the moment his dragon clasped onto Lucaerys, swallowing the bastard whole.

"Everything matters at war, Alys." He hummed impatiently, while snapping his head in her general direction. "What do you think will happen to you, should Daemon reach Harrenhal? Your pretty head will rest near mine, impaled on a sharpened spike."

But if she told you to stay put, you would do just that, wouldn’t you? Her bitter thoughts chewed her conscious away.

Alys spat out a lowly curse, as she shifted uncomfortably in place. "Daemon Targaryen was here once, not long before you. He didn’t kill me then."

"Because you didn't matter back then." The Prince Protector of the Realm hissed through painfully gritted teeth, "You were no one to him. You were a wet nurse who merely spread her legs for him."

The man turned his back to her, as he wordlessly bound Vhagar's bridle over his wrist again and again.

"And last I checked, your cunt failed to inspire him."

Her mouth parted in a silent protest, and her green eyes widened in partial distress. "Still I should remain in luck," She choked out through a breathless laugh, "for it has never failed to inspire you."

"You are perfectly right," Aemond's laughter was humorless and brash, "And it is because of this loose cunt that Aegon nearly lost the support of Storm's End."

The Prince spun around on his heel's end, and trapped the woman in between his hard chest and restless dragon. "Sometimes I think you cost me more than you're worth." He whispered calmly into her ear, while trailing his index finger over the sharp edge of her jaw. "For speaking back to me, I could have you executed."

The finality of his words drew her body closer to the ancient beast, and Vhagar let out a displeased grunt. Amusement pulled at the corners of his downturned mouth.

"Still you should remain in luck," He mocked her with an airy laugh, "I find myself in an exceedingly good mood today."

The back of his hand came to play with a loose lock of her messy braid, and the Prince smiled at her stance and her bewildered look. "But you've been a most useful asset, haven't you, my dear?" He obliged her with a teasing smirk, "Lady Tully responded well to you, hasn't she? Tell me," He paused momentarily, as he trailed his hands to the narrow middle of her waist, and back up again. "Have you kept up your training with her?"

Alys' face fell into a frown, as she staggered a frustrated look. Aemond was toying with her.

"That dull book she pretends to read at night has the maps of three secret passages hidden amongst the latter pages. Two of them lead to that cell into the West Wing – but of course, she doesn't know that. The third one leads to the stables of Harrenhal."

Aemond hummed pleasedly, and the man soon took a wide step back, allowing his paramour enough space for proper breathing. "You did well." He smiled wistfully, "I should reward you well tonight. You may think of something you desire. I will see to it once I return."

"I would very much like you to stay and heal today." She urged him not a heartbeat later, surprising even herself with the intensity of her tone.

Aemond's composure broke with the licks of roaring laughter – one that was empty, and fell devoid of any feelings of fondness or grief.

"Think of something else." He urged her coolly, and dismissively pushed past her, to reach for his dragon's saddle.

"'Tis a good thing you shall never be a wife, Alys. The role of the worried wench doesn't suit you one bit."

"Keep feeding her half-truths and lies." He encouraged the woman with a final reach over her hand. He squeezed once over her balled-up fist – acting as both a promise, and a taciturn warning on what should happen, should she let him down again. "Regarding whatever else she may have to say… you'll report it back immediately."

With that, the Kinslayer of the Trident took off, leaving the promise of bone and ash behind his dragon's menacing ascend.

The Eyrie was, on all accounts, smaller even than Maegor's Holdfast. Inside the stronghold nestled the Arryns, hidden deep beneath the illusion of the smallest stronghold of the main seven Kingdoms. Despite its intermediate size, the Keep of the Giant's Lance deemed itself one of the safest places to be – Hardly a lie, especially now, Cain Waters ineptly hummed, once his wobbly feet carried him over the stoney threshold.

Despite its less-than-imposing size, and lack of sheer volume, (Y/N)'s sworn shield felt himself smaller than ever before.

How would he dare account for his whereabouts? Reason his shortcomings?

How could he hope to explain to his Lord that not only did he return empty-handed, without his beloved granddaughter on horseback – he returned without the notion of a hand at all?

Between the two strange figures with whom he traveled, it was Mira Florent who rested loyally by his side – her strength and stability allowing the Waters bastard to lean into her, if only for a fleeting moment, during the ascend of the narrow stairs.

"Take heart," She whispered, "Your Lord is a kind and understanding one. You won't be facing trial for this."

His mere reply was a solitary grunt, and a quick smile, dejectedly thrown her way.

Between the two strange figures with whom he traveled, Albar had remained behind. The mute man shrugged his head decidedly when Cain gestured towards the waiting castle, and Mira explained to him that the Vale scarcely left him feeling safe and wanted.

And he understood, perhaps far too well – the feeling of dejection a bastard boy felt, as he stepped foot into the land of his birth.

***

He'd been granted the comfort of a Maester and a hot soak, almost immediately after his appearance at the Arryns' Great Door.

The Lady of the Vale proved to be a kindred spirit, capable of great nurture, despite her lack of heirs to her family's ancestral throne. She gasped loudly at the sight of him. Her eyebrows furrowed in grave distraught, and her lower lip trembled as the healers informed her of the state of his right hand.

Her searching eyes reminded him of the ones of his own mother – neither particularly warm nor cold towards him, but fair and just in their own accord.

She almost decided against calling upon him to the Trouts' Black Council, but the young Oscar Tully had entirely different plans.

His eyes, as they were, were socketed by a deep, but elusive brown. They spoke and reminded him of a whole different tale than the one of his fair, poor Lady.

And it was Oscar's eyes, so similar in shape to hers, who bore ghastly holes into the back of Ser Cain's skull. His arm rose up, as if to cut off the man's retelling – his nostrils flared up in disgust, and his face twisted into a painful scowl.

"So what you're telling me… is that you failed to bring her back."

Cain's eyes hardened at her brother's words, and the knight nibbled on his lower lip, in an attempt to calm himself.

Although a brave and honest man, he dared not look in the eyes of Lord Grover Tully – he dared not see what lay beneath his wilted face. Thus, all his attention focused in on the chirping lass.

"Aye, my Lord." He mustered up to tell him, "I lost her to the One-Eyed Prince. We escaped Harrenhal, and managed to get as far as the Saltpans, but –"

The boy scoffed at his attempt to pardon and explain himself. He nodded affirmatively, and scrutinized Cain with his piercing gaze.

"You returned with an empty hand, Ser Cain. You failed: miserably."

His back straightened in an attempt to appear bigger, and the hot-headed lass rose from his chair in a hurling daze.

"Because of you, my sister is in the hands of that cycloptic freak. Because of you, we don't know anything about her whereabouts. She could be tortured, enslaved, sullied – worse!"

Lady Jane Arryn clicked her tongue in disbelief, and beckoned her guard to guide the boy back into a sitting stance.

"That is quite enough, Oscar." She asserted calmly, "We have no evidence of such a feat."

"Of course we don't!" The young Lordling huffed annoyedly, jolting on the brink of madness, "The deranged cripple wouldn't reply to any of our ravens!"

His face contorted animalistically, the freckles on his face being taken by the deep shade of crimson that coloured in his plumper cheeks. "And with you here, Waters, we don't even have the certainty that (Y/N) is still alive!"

"Oscar." Grover's deep voice echoed a warning through the quietness of the tiny Keep.

As if struck in the face, the youngest of the Tully brothers shifted in his seat again. "My sister's fate is breached unknown," He cried out in a collapsing tune, "She's our family, grandfather, my only sister! Pray tell, why does it look as if I'm the only one who gives a damn?"

The graying Lord and the narrow Lady both leaned towards a perplexing look. But before any of them could reply to his laid-out challenge, (Y/N)'s brother urged them further, as he hissed through his gritted teeth. "It would have been better for you not to return at all, Ser Cain. It would have been better for all parties involved to have sent me in his stead, Grandfather!"

His shoulders slouched forward, and the brazen boy fought with Grover's intense stare. "Had I failed, I wouldn’t have even returned at all." Oscar roared over the silent council, proclaiming his intent with a defying raise. "I would sooner have died, than see her be taken by that monster again."

"What would you have had me do, boy?!" Grover Tully raised his voice in turn, "You fool. Would you have had me send you away for her? Do you think your death would have made you a martyr?!"

Cain's lips pursed into a tight line, as the Riverlords before him bickered further. Even Lady Jane Arryn seemed to be left speechless, unsure of when or how to stop their arguing.

Family feuds were neither one's strongest suit.

"Do you think," His Grandfather uttered, "that if you were to die, anyone would remember you fondly?!" The red in his cheeks matched the one on his grandson's face, and the elder Lord broke out into a coughing fit. "Your sacrifice would mean nothing. And when the dust settled over Westeros, and the war was done, you would just be another casualty. Another body to burn in a communal."

Almost immediately, his eyes softened, and their deep creases faltered on his face.

The Lord of Riverrun grunted in fatigue, but still rose himself securely on his two able feet. He marched towards the huffing boy, and placed a wrinkled hand over his sweaty forehead, urging him to quiet down.

"It's not about glory, Grandfather." He spat out lowly, as his ears began to match his fiery locks of curly hair. "It's about family. Our family. It's about ensuring its survival."

The older man gave the lass a curt nod. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, and turned to the knight with a downturned smile.

"There wasn't a knight more fit for the task than Ser Cain." He confirmed his judgment with a tired gesture in his direction. "He was knighted at five and ten. You are over your seven and tenth birthday, boy, and haven’t been even mirthed a squire."

Oscar sucked in a protesting breath, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room fall before him. His brows furrowed in a dangerous quarrel, and his blood ran hot. "Yet even with all the skill in the world, he still failed."

Lord Grover was losing his patience, "Yes, grandson, that he did! He failed, despite all the signs that pointedly told us otherwise – do you think you'd do an equitable job? When you haven't even once crossed swords in a Joust or Tourney?"

Nearby the aching knight, Lady Arryn renowed her position.

She whispered to her waiting guard, and the man took a step ahead, hitting over the chantry with the hilt of his sword.

The noise that erupted grabbed the attention of both grandson and grandfather.

"The turn of events marked by Ser Cain's departure means we need to readjust our plans." She commanded their heed calmly, "It is… unfortunate; that Lady Tully's sworn shield failed to protect her. Yet here we all stand, warming our bottoms on a mine of gold."

Cain should have been grateful for the distraction she was offering. All the displeasure surged upon him evaporated within the click of her tongue, and less conventional language – still, even he had to remain weary on the subject he opened.

"On a mine of gold?" Oscar spat out sharply, feeling his self-control disperse by failing him again. "My Lady, do you think my sister's condition is a situation of great rejoice?"

The Lady's blue eyes cut through the boy deeply, and the young man closed his mouth in embarrassment, before sitting down again.

She reached for the goblet of wine, and wet her lips with it, "Our strategical situation couldn't be better. Not once have we had a spy of Harrenhal successfully return. In truth, we didn’t even think it possible." Her lithe hand pointed towards the bloodied knight, and her eyes glimmered in mischief, "Yet here stands our living proof."

She elegantly rose from her ivory throne, and signaled the man to take a seat at the bent table. As he gingerly followed her lead, the woman spared him with a kind glance, and met his glance with her deep azul gaze.

"From what I gather, you spent the better part of a month undetected in the Strongs' Keep. Is that true?"

Cain nodded stiffly, and rested his bulky hands over his tired knees. "Yes, my lady. That I have."

"And you were knighted at fifteen?" She alluded to what was early spoken.

"Yes, my lady."

"By Lord Hunter Redwyne." She urged him to clarify, through the edge of a quirked-up brow, and the callings of a small smile pulling at her dusted lips.

"Yes, my lady. The very one."

Lady Jane hummed, seemingly satisfied by his short answers. She turned her attention to Lord Grover and his tiresome grandson, and merely asked Ser Cain again.

"And you faced the Kinslayer in combat, cut by a Valyrian blade, and lived to tell the tale?"

"... Aye, my lady."

Oscar's eyes remained unyielding. But Grover Tully glanced at the man before him, and offered him a wordless bow.

"Tell me, Ser, how would you like to command your own battalion?"

"You have to be patient." Alys chastised her deeply, as her luring features turned from flaccid to sharp. "Hardly enough time has passed since your last attempted escape – Aemond is still very much on edge."

The Lady's eyes turned to her. With the bridge of her nose scrunched up, and her fair features molded into a desperate plea, the girl looked more like a lost child, than an able and resourceful Lady.

Alys regarded her as such, and sighed deeply as she grasped onto her shoulders carefully.

"If I wait any longer, it'll be too late. I've already wasted three moon turns in this cursed Keep. I have to return to my family." The Tully spoke decidedly, leaving behind no room for arguing. She took a seat before the tiny mirror, that breached her modest vanity – a recent gift from Aemond, deduced by him to make her feel more like a proper lady.

The image that reflected within it looked at her like a dire stranger. The green silks she was dressed into, the pristine, braided hair that framed her pale cheeks perfectly; She was the vision of a flawless royal, a soft and polite maiden, untouched yet by the spoils of death and war.

'Would this be enough?' She asked herself desperately, whilst gripping the edge of her chair painfully.

Was this what Aemond had always wanted? The proof of her lack of autonomy, finally presented to him on a silver platter, as he returned from war every night?

Was he, perhaps, congratulating himself, every time he glanced at her, thinking himself master of the universe for making her arch and kneel?

Alys shook her head once more, and rested a hand over her bouncing knee.

"Patience is a virtue, Lady Tully. You needn't put yourself through any more unnecessary risks."

The Lady of Riverrun shook her head vigorously, finally snapping herself back to reality; Her actions were defying, and devoid of any capacity. Alys felt herself more confounded by the second. "I'll help you plan this thoroughly." The wood witch adverted. Her head quirked to the side in an encouraging gesture, and the girl nodded feverishly in reply.

Her green eyes widened in fair delight, and Aemond's lover lowered her gaze over the girl's book. "You memorized the passages well enough. Very soon, you shall put your knowledge to practice."

(Y/N) let out a tired sigh, and graced the older woman with a pleasant smile. "I'm lucky to have you, Alys" She played with her rings as she spoke, "Thank you. For everything."

As the elder woman finally left her Quarters in favor of bringing out the order for dinner, (Y/N) let out an aggravated groan.

Her long pretense would surely make her nauseous. But she would be a simpleton indeed, to place all her trust in Alys.

The walls preleened with the doom of silence. A cold breeze dug its way deeply into her spine, and the silent taste of passing and demise left a sour taste in her parted mouth.

***

Aemond began dinner as he wontedly did every day – praying to the Warrior to grant him strength in battle, to the Smith, to mend all that was left broken, to the Father, "to shine his light", and lead their souls out of the brink of darkness.

Each and every time, without fail, the girl would bring the pristine napkin to her mouth, masking the obvious way her lips would quirk into a most unyielding smile. His pious speech, and the way his hands painfully clasped together, begging for the blessing of resolve, made her scoff in blinding wonder.

Was he even aware of the words he mostly muttered? Did he ever stop to assess himself throughout the day, and realize the sin in which he debaucherously bathed in?

As his speech came to an end, the Lady preleened forward, grabbing a hold of the boiled-up stork.

How lovely it was to sit between comfort and chaos.

"You've never been one to speak much during our time spent together." Aemond remarked through the rumble of a solitary hum. "Yet I had hoped this last week softened your resolve, My Lady."

Her eyebrows rose in slight discomfort, as her eyes focused on the leisure movements of his bigger hands.

So he was softening up.

She opened her mouth almost immediately, but her hesitant eyes danced around his blinding stare. Her plump lips pressed into a hard line, and she exhaled loudly through her nose, in an attempt to ground herself.

"Not at all, Your Grace, I assure you." The cluttering of her fork came to a hoisted end, as Lady Tully aligned her head to focus directly on the One-Eyed Prince. "I should love nothing more than to talk to you… Please, do advise me on what you would like most to hear."

She fidgeted nervously with her silver rings – a quirk she developed whilst imprisoned in the Strong's Keep – and gingerly awaited his reply.

Your Grace. Your Grace. Your Grace.

The stillness in her speech and eyes drove the man effectively wild.

"Aemond." He stilled her faction through the reign of a distorted sigh.

She regarded him with a petrified stance. Her hands fell heavy over her legs in the wake of anticipation.

"... I-I beg your pardon?"

"Aemond." He repeated his name again, "We already break bread and sleep in the same bed." His lilac eye rose from his plate, and singled out her reddened cheeks. The man paused a while, as if to weigh his words carefully, and his cold, glassy orb, hungrily ran over her form. "It seems inevitable that we'd call each other by our given names. Yet you never once said mine throughout."

The girl could feel her throat dry up. While still maintaining his awkward stare, she reached for the glass of wine that rested by her left side. She wrapped her hand around its stem, and brought it to her paling lips.

The liquid courage slid down her throat in a quick, though burning manner, and (Y/N) had to swallow down an erratic cough. Her brows furrowed amidst, as she picked her words out slowly.

"I have called your name before, Prince Aemond. Many times throughout the moons, in fact."

He smiled at her perturbed reply, and shook his head in coy distraught.

"Not without the honorifics." The man clarified in a pleading tone, his voice growing hotter now. "... Just say my name." He sighed defeatedly. His hand gripped the edge of the table, silently, as the Targaryen Prince could feel his mind running with a thousand thoughts per passing minute.

The silence ate at him alive. She drowned the wine in a swift swing, and slouched forward to pour herself another glass.

She was too sober for this.

Lucaerys, Jacaerys, Cain.

Part of her wanted to pluck his eye out. Part of her wished nothing more than to make fun of him. Laugh, perhaps, at his desperate indiscretion. Do something – anything – to gauge a reaction out of him.

Any sort of reaction, that would make her pestering feelings for him leave her heavy soul.

Surprising even herself, adamantly going against her own wishes, the woman caught herself breathing out.

"... Aemond."

Unexpectedly he moved, by jumping to his ready feet, fully disregarding the oak chair as it hit the floor in a most perused manner.

The pang of noise alerted her, and seemingly, the guards outside. A while they remained in silence, listening in to the clash of metal that announced their unsure shifting.

But they wouldn’t come inside. The girl was lest aware of that.

As time pressed on, Aemond remained hammered in place, heaving out his weighty breaths and clasping his hands in aching fists.

Her eyes momentarily left his shadow – to turn again towards the poach of wine, and empty another glass in rapid gulps.

The heavy atmosphere inside the room hung lowly over their tired heads. (Y/N) resumed her mellow eating, wincing at the shakiness within her hands. She grabbed another piece of the boiled meat, though Aemond's stare soon made her drop it, and the girl clicked her tongue in disbelief; grabbing it instead with a piece of cloth, and securing it into a tight knot.

This time, it was her actions that had failed her. And perhaps it'd be her ready words that would prevail.

"Aemond." She spoke again, this time more confidently than before. The bitter liquor was burning her throat, her chest, her heart. She felt her limbs heavy – with both anticipation and frustration - borne out of lack of relief. She wanted to slap him, to hit him, to crush him beneath her feet.

She wanted to run away, to stay confined, forever inside this room, forever astute to what was going on in the outside world.

She wanted to feel something.

She wanted…

"Yes." Aemond encouraged her softly, and her attention came back to the raptures of the present tense. "There we go." He worded out, keeping his tone barely above a whisper.

Neither could tell when or how it happened – but Aemond's body was inches away from touching hers. The heat emanating from his beating heart washed over the meek form of the tipsy Lady. His Lady.

She gulped painfully, and the Prince could feel how his hands started spasming with the need to feel her. His nails bit the inside of his calloused palm, leaving deep and angry marks inside them.

His prominent veins shifted with his every faction. His face morphed into hopeful disarray.

"There we go." He repeated gently, "I want to hear your laughter. You never once laughed with me."

Her stare was hard to decipher. And yet confliction danced across her face. Aemond turned serious, and the stammering of his hands came to an untimely end. His eye bared holes into her reddened face; and the Lady humorously thought, if only for a moment, that it was a lucky thing he didn’t still have both his eyes. For such a stare would be embedded in her subconscious, bringing forth her swift undoing.

The corners of her mouth felt painful to bend and break. Shakily she smiled at him, and opened her mouth in shocked reclusion.

A shy laughter erupted from her unquenched throat, and the woman shuddered, surrendering the reins of reason to the drunken thoughts that sieged her.

Her laughter wasn't her own. The languid movements of her hands, that trailed over Aemond's chest, were not her own.

His finger came to caress her cheek. Her nose. Her brow. Her lips. Her mouth. The Crown Prince sucked in a dangerous breath, and secured his left arm loosely around her waist.

"Good girl," He spoke tenderly, his voice going from gruff to rough, "Such a good girl for me." His fingers combed through her messy braids, marking their swift undoing – taking a step back, he could feel the heat leave his head, in the favor of traveling lower, to meet the almost flaccid cock confined in the tightness of his pants. "Say my name again. Laugh again." He commanded in a pleading meowl. His lips twitched in anticipation, and his eyes trailed lower, lower still, from up her face, down to her soaring bosom.

"Aemond."

"(Y/N)."

A solitary look of shame was shared between them. Perhaps pushed forward by the only remaining faction of rationale, the two placed a step in between each other, but even that proved to be too fickle of a barrier to keep them whole apart.

Aemond reached to cup her face with his own trembling hand – on her end, the girl's digits trailed over from his high cheekbones, down to his prominent cupid's bow, in an all but gentle caress.

"Avy jorrāelan." He hissed through painfully gritted teeth, allowing his head to rest in the crook made of her shoulder blade and neck. "Avy jorrāelan." He repeated, the vulnerability in his voice making him lose the hold he had over himself.

"Se Jaes emagon qrimbrōstan issa naejot jorrāelagon ao." His feathered breath came into contact with her dainty neck. (Y/N) gasped lightly, as she felt the first of his many kisses being tenderly placed over her jaw and neck.

Her head was pounding, and her eyes were screwed shut, as the coldness of the wall hit her in perused waves. The impropriety of the soft moans and sighs that filled her ears to the brim left her confused and wanting.

The worst of it was that she didn’t know whether they came from her or him.

She felt as though her head was being harshly held below the water, and the girl clawed at her dress to loosen her tight bodice, which seemed to constrict even her erratic breathing.

Aemond's attention moved from her earlobe back to her lips. He felt how her hands contorted sporadically, and he placed his own palm over hers, to put an end to her hasty movements, and give her a sense of calmness. His fingers suddenly entwined with hers, as his form hovered above her. His throat etched with a lousy moan, and his mouth finally crashed with hers.

(Y/N)'s eyes opened at the shocking scene, and her lips suddenly parted, either to beg or to protest against him, but Aemond's hot tongue found entrance into her warm cave – deciding instead to deepen the kiss, and press himself further against her smaller form.

The outline of his throbbing cock molded against the shape of the woman's thigh, and the Prince Protector of the Realm let out a pleasured hiss, once her insistent writhing ended up brushing up his weeping tip. "Jaes, ao istan vēttan syt issa." He mumbled against her swollen lips, "Sepār jurnegon skorkydoso īlon kostagon fāelor hēnkirī."

She let out a fatigued whimper, and swiftly turned her head around, putting an abrupt end to their meek and vicious pecks.

"What's wrong, hmm? Dōna hāedar… ȳdra daor hakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa sir."

Aemond's lips were soft and tender, leaving behind an almost vivacious bite over her exposed parts. His pace had been filled with an animalistic hunger; the longing inside his eye caught her unprepared, and her lips parted with the desire to feel something – anything – that his palpable mouth would keenly offer.

(Y/N) shuddered with her eyes closed, and grabbed a hold of his long, white hair, leading the man closer yet to her swelling heat.

The way in which he held her should have felt so very wrong. But at that moment, the only thing she could do was extend her arm back up to him, and guide him with an insistent pull over his silky locks: encouraging him to bring forth his descent upon her lips.

She disregarded the way a figment of her psyche screamed at her. To stop her ministrations, to slap his calloused hands away from her. For if she kept her eyes closed, and focused solely on the shape of him, then she could almost pretend that the man before her had nothing to do with her beloved Jace.

She could almost pretend that he was Jace.

Aemond's pupil was left blown wide – so much so, that the lilac of his iris could almost be left neglected. He wrapped his hands around the lady's thighs, and hoisted her up to meet him by his narrow hips. Both moaned into the other's mouth, and the Prince soon found his way into the raptures of the silken bed.

His heated cock kissed the outlines of her soaked cunny. Aemond sighed deeply over the arch of her neck, and pawed away at her untouched bodice.

(Y/N)'s hands rested still upon his eyepatch, and, with a swift and hasty movement, she yanked it off his sculpted face.

"We need to stop…" She moaned, defeated, and felt how Aemond's body stiffened up below her, as the harsh realization finally hit them both.

She had uttered the words aloud.

Half expecting him to blow out fuming, the woman tried to pry herself off his fevered body, but his hands reigned like iron shackles over the inside of her spreading thighs.

"Do we?" He whispered lowly, whilst leaning in to steal another kiss from her again.

"We shouldn’t." She strained herself to say once more, and Aemond nodded, still chasing her lips with his.

She melted into his reluctant touch, and hummed against his beating heart. His hands dug deeply into her resting sides; his fingertips scattered over her translucent spine, leaving their possessive mark. "This isn’t right."

"I know, I know," He gasped, "Seven Hells, I know…"

"Yn nyke istan zarvīzis," He pressed a finger over her swollen lips, "Nyke emagon issare sīr sȳz se… sīr, sīr zarvīzis."

With the last ounce of her strength, she bit over his lower lip, dragging a wanton moan from out of his rosy lips.

"Ao aehron raqagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon bisa..." He chanted, while latched onto her burning sear, "Yn ao jaelagon issa sepār hae olvie. Ao mazilībagon syt issa – sepār hae qosaevaerī."

His High Valyrian had made her dizzy. And at first, she tried to pay his words her mind, she tried to grapple and understand what he was saying.

A starved meowl left her panting lips.

"You can tell me to stop," The words that poured out of his mouth washed upon her like a rippled tide, "You can tell me to stop… and I will..."

Her body quickly arched against him; her shaky hands came to rest over his hips. She laced her mouth again with his, expecting rough, dominant kisses – but Aemond's hands propped themselves loosely against her cheeks, his thumbs pliantly stroking her with untoward devotion. His single eye drank her in with reverence.

"Please…" He whimpered into her mouth, "Avy jorrāelan." He confessed to her, again and again, trying his hardest not to take her against the cold floor – and not fuck her straight into the messy mattress.

Her limbs felt heavy. Lacking their autonomy. The body she was nestled in still wasn't her own.

"... Why?" She asked him disdainfully, sporadically, as his index finger came to pry open her haughty entrance.

His eye widened in perplexed ruin, but the Prince soon stumbled over his words again.

That bastard Jace must have taught her the gist of that.

"... I wish I knew." Came his sole and sincere reply.

Just like that, her eyes welled with the threat of tears.

His hands, his hold, his voice, his mouth. It was all wrong. In truth none could ever hope to feel right.

Flashes of her old lover, of his baby brother – who was so small the last she'd seen him –, of her sworn shield came into view. All of them, gone as if they never were. All of them, with their memories trampled deep beneath her sprawled-out form.

She wasn't a woman of the Faith. Not after what had happened. Not after the spoils of war that she, herself, felt like angry whips upon her skin. But her eyes fluttered close, and she begged the Mother for forgiveness, whilst a tear rolled off her ticking cheek.

She brought a hand to her wobbly lips, and began to violently rub away any remaining trace of Aemond's presence.

She was disgusted. With him, with herself, with the world, with the image of her Jace – that surged in her mind the second she blinked, the moment that she jolted awake in her misery.

On his end, (Y/N)'s display of pure abhorrence failed to falter Aemond's lustful grief. Why, if she did not desire him, did she fall into his arms again and again?

Love was the death of duty. And longing was the doom of all.

"Fucking cock tease…" The Prince growled, grief-stricken, "How much longer are you going to give into me, just to push me away?"

His patience had been running thin. The ache in his breeches was long forgotten. In its stead, the urgent sting in his heart dragged the man into the pits of madness. "What is it this time?" He groveled over her closed legs again.

Her recuperation had been jovial and quick. Adrenaline replaced the pain and shame, and the woman tried to get off the bed, put as much distance as she knew how in between her and the ravished Prince.

For the first time since he came to be, Aemond would not let her escape his clutches. As she moved backwards, he persisted forward – following her wobbly feet throughout the room with the spare of his predatory eye.

"Y-You said –" She tried ceaselessly to accuse him. "You said you wouldn't –"

"And you're right. I meant every. Single. Thing. I told you." He growled into her frightened ear, as his hands came to cage her, trap her under the seclusion of the hard, stone wall.

"You're mine." He hissed desperately, as he clasped her jaw to face him. "You've always been mine, you fucking harlot. From the moment you stepped foot into Harrenhal, your life belonged to me."

Perhaps Aemond was right, and she was nothing but a harlot. A treacherous swine that hung onto whatever he could give her - so starved and devoid of love and warmth, that she'd dare to stoop so lowly with him.

Aemond descended his unquenched rage over her exposed neck, and began leaving tender love bites all over, in spite of her lackluster pleas.

(Y/N)'s head felt like it was about to explode. She felt sick to her stomach – the wine and the distraught both built up inside of her. All she wanted now was to be left alone. For Aemond's touch felt oddly comforting, and her tired eyes began to close. "You drive me insane." She heard him choke.

She wanted to open her mouth. To urge the Prince to stop; but her word hole was sewn shut, taken over by the grip of feared confusion. While his hand hoisted her up by the waist again, her hand went around him, to grab onto whatever she could find. Finally, she stopped at the dragon-glass dagger, that securely latched onto Aemond's waist. Effectively, she wrapped her fingers around its silver hilt, and sheathed it out of its confinements.

"I swear on whatever God you want me to, I'll slit your throat if you don't stop touching me –" She wailed into Aemond's form, as she felt him stiffen up in tumultation.

His nostrils flared up at her attempt to intimidate him, and yet… his face looked most serene, as the cutting edge of the dagger reached close to his ivory skin. She raised her brows at him in utter surprise; for she expected him to surrender. His arms snaked away from her, and Aemond watched her intensely with his piercing gaze.

She could kill him, consequences be damned. And if she faced trial for this, then at least she'd have taken out a Green and Vhagar.

Her hand was shaking. Her breathing became erratic. She'd held a blade on multiple occasions; she'd fantasized about cutting Aemond's throat more times than she could bring herself to count. And yet…

His lack of movement – of worry – rattled her endlessly. She wanted to scream at him, to push him, to cut him. But for some reason couldn't bring herself to do it.

The realization that she just couldn’t do it made her almost drop the knife from the tight hold she'd kept it under.

"Why aren't you the least bit worried?" She spat out lowly, with her body trembling and her jaw set tight.

Aemond remained quiet and taciturn. His eye fixed her face carefully, and his hand gently wrapped around her quivering wrist. "Come on now…" He whispered to her, and watched how her eyes filled with the endless tears of frustration, how the hot droplets rolled down her reddened cheeks.

It would take another moment for her to drop the blade.

A moment she would forever grow to resent.

"I fucking hate you." She hissed through a breathless sob.

Oh, how she wished to hate him. Hate him as she did when they first clashed swords. Hate him as she did when she heard Jace talk about Lucaerys' death.

"Liar." Aemond rasped in acknowledgment.

And, just like that, the damage had been done. The blade rested back into his hand within an instant, and Aemond hit the wall behind her with murderous intent. "Fucking liar." He whispered again, breathing less and less sporadically, trying to wash his nerves away.

"I have been so good to you. But no matter what I do, it'll never be enough for you. Hmm?" He shook his head adamantly, and dug his fingers into the cold tiles of the cursed stronghold. "I am a patient man. But I will not wait a minute longer."

Her face twisted into a painful scowl, and the girl pushed over his chest roughly, but Aemond was quick to deny her exit. "This is not ideal," He muttered lowly to himself, "Yet you need to be taught a lesson."

"What are you d–"

Her words died upon her lips. Aemond hummed in dissatisfaction, and immediately brought the blade into her view.

She let out a scream of pure horror, but his pliant mouth silenced her with a scorching kiss. Her whole body was shaking, and the Prince Regent let out a frustrated sigh.

"Cease your crying, you hateful woman." He chastised her cruelly, "The fucking Gods sent you to ruin me."

At that moment, she wasn't above pleading. Her knees wobbled in place, and her orbs frantically searched for a way out. For something to grip and swing at the man before her.

Aemond's eye softened at the sight of her. Despite the pang of guilt he felt, a teasing and self-assuring smirk formed at the corners of his upturned lips.

So Jacaerys hadn't told her. He never mentioned their Valyrian way to her.

His triumphant feat soon washed away, as her trembling hands came into contact with his. "Ÿdra daor dīnagon, issa gevie Dāria. Nyke jāhor dōrī jaelagon naejot ōdrikagon." He told her adherently, truthfully, despite the obvious language barrier.

He took a moment to regain his composure. Grab a hold of her balled-up fists and remember the ancient words he'd only ever read about in his history books.

"Hen lantoti ānogar. Va sỹndroti vāedroma."

He ripped the sleeve from his linen shirt, and placed it over their entwined fingers.

"Mēro perzot gīhoti. Elēdroma iārza sĩr. Izuli ampā perzī."

The blade finally pressed down, over the softness of his left palm. Aemond winced at the sudden pain, and made a mental note to only nick the frightened girl with it, when the time came for that.

"Prūmĩ lanti sēteksi. Hen jenỹ māzīlarion. Qēlossa ozündesi."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened to a comical amount. Somewhere along the way, it seemed, she grew aware of Aemond's intent. She refused to show her hand to him, placing them both behind her back, and holding on for her dear life.

He let out a disapproving grunt, and reached his bloodied hands to her, yanking her right hand from underneath her strong grasp.

"No! No –!" She kept on screaming, and the guards outside shifted in place, before they fell under their oath of silence once again.

The cold and slick edge of the dragon glass pressed lightly against her writhing palm. Aemond made a smaller cut, and carried on with his rapid mumbling.

"Sỹndroro öñö jēdo. Rỹ kīvia mazvestraksi."

His very fist came to cut over his lower lip. His gory hand then reached for her jaw, hammering her in her place, and a sharp sting reflected on her weary stance. Aemond profited off the moment, to ease the dagger into her waiting mouth.

The metallic taste flooded her senses – the girl saw red before her eyes, and failed to register how his fingers came upon his and her forehead, painting them over with a ghastly symbol.

The Targaryen Prince reached for her hand again, and pressed her wounded palm cohesively with his.

"Following the tradition of my House from before the Doom of Old Valyria, I, Aemond of House Targaryen, bind myself to (Y/N) of House Tully, by blood, by soul, by life –"

"NO!"

" – And I pledge to her: that we are now one flesh, one heart, one body. Now and forever."

As he finally pried his limbs away from her trapped body, Aemond allowed his lips to feathery trace over her twisted mouth. She glanced at him, with wide-set and teary eyes.

"Fuck your fucking pledge."

Some grand venue she received.

A single question hung loosely into the air.

"Are you going to rape me now?"

She scarcely registered her own words as they left her mouth.

Aemond's eye widened at her query, and the Targaryen bit over his lower lip, as a deep grimace morphed the fairness of his features. He looked almost dumbfounded by her made assumption.

As soon as it came, the look of utter betrayal left his face.

"You would slit my throat with the knife." Was his mere reply.

***

Sometime along the night, he left.

The mighty roars of Vhagar registered themselves in the far-away distance.

That night, and only that night, she allowed herself the sacrilege of prayer. And she did so, again and again, pleading to the Seven for a blind arrow to reach his neck.

On the back of Vhagar, Aemond shuddered away from the impossible waves of heat, that licked deliciously at his stiffened cock; whenever her breathing would reach his ears, he felt tortured, trapped beneath the swell of lust and wanton desire.

Despite his abhorrent decision, he knew what their marriage meant. He knew all too well what his cruel bind had done, and yet… he felt no plausible remorse for the situation at hand.

The support of Storm's End, Floris Baratheon, Alys – mere casualties compared to the brink of having her, to knowing that she was finally his, as he was wholly hers.

Eventually, she'd have to love him. Eventually, she'd learn to do so.

A marriage wasn't a marriage until it was consummated. But he would give her, as he had promised, the illusion of choice, if nothing else.

As the cold night's air whipped his face again and again, and as Vhagar's thundering resounded over the burnt trees of the Riverlands, Aemond sighed, and brought a shaky hand to the strings of his breeches.

Scared as she was, his Lady made for a beautiful bride. It was such a shame that he didn’t get to see her wear the traditional Targaryen gown.

The pad of his thumb trailed over the cut he'd made – the same cut that now rested over her extended palm.

The flesh would scar, he thought, well pleased; whenever he looked at her, he'd get to see how she was undeniably his.

A possessive growl etched from his parted lips. Images of her paling skin, of her laugh. Her smile. The way her eyes bore into him, as if she always knew something he didn’t.

Leisurely, he began to pump his cock. Below him, Vhagar let out an anguished roar.

"Nyke gīmigon, Vhagar. Gīmigon."

Droplets of precum rolled over his clenching digits, coating his knuckles and the base of his shaft in a translucent, but thick ropes.

He groaned desperately, aching to relieve his frustration deep within her, but alas…

His gruff moans filled the air around him; and Aemond could feel his climax building up, as visions of her flooded his thoughts.

How she would feel underneath him. How she would writhe on the edge of bliss, begging, pleading for him to finally take her.

He could feel her legs wrapping around him, and feel himself sliding inside her with ease, praising her for being so good to him.

He wrapped Vhagar's bridle tight over his arm, and secured himself better in his leather saddle. His grip tightened around his dripping cock, but it was just not good enough.

The pace with which he fucked his hand picked up in a wilding speed. Aemond sighed in pleasure, and felt his hips move to their own accord. His breathing became rugged. His very mind was not his own.

He wondered what other scars her body bore. What the story behind them was, and how many of them came by his swift undoing.

Would she lie down and let him take care of everything? Or would she want to stay on top, jumping up and down on him, each time with a harsher thrust?

His hips rose and fell with his less than gentle pace, and the man pushed his length deeper into his steadfast grip.

He knew that if she let him touch her, he wouldn't be leaving her bed for weeks. He would pull countless orgasms from her, time and time again, until she begged for him to stop. He would have her so full of his seed, so the Gods' help him, that she would swell with his child – his trueborn child – before the rise of the first rays of sun.

Feeling his release beckon, the Prince set on a final rhythm, one that left his loins more in need than ever. With a loud hiss, he pushed himself inside his fist one final time, spilling his seed onto the saddle beneath him.

He panted wildly into the night, and suddenly opened his lustful eye, allowing a tear of ecstasy to roll off his scarred cheek.

"Se Jaes daoriot rȳbagon naejot nykeā vala raqagon issa. Yn nyke jāhor jikagon va issa knees se kostilus zirȳla naejot ivestragī issa emagon ao. Ao issi issa rōva botagon se se olvie rivaestra lambraes aohvra."

He couldn't keep up the charade with her. He would tell her all about it, once things finally settled down.

Word in Harrenhal traveled fast.

First it was her brash arrival. Then her impromptu marriage.

No one dared to talk to her. Yet she was never without the indiscreet eyes that followed her about.

Her situation wasn't without its ups and falls: Aemond felt no need to guard her as stiffly anymore – For where would the former Tully go, now that she bared his Targaryen name?

She was allowed to breach into some castle corners, always in the company of hefty guards, of course, and basked herself in some new acquired perks of freedom.

On the same account, whilst Alys remained loyal to her role as her lady-in-waiting, the tension between them couldn't have been more pain-strikingly high.

"I never asked for this. You must believe me."

She gave the younger woman a domineering stare, and only shook her head, obliged.

"And yet here you stand, inside his bed."

Word in Harrenhal spread fast – like a fire left unattended, like the so-called "Targaryen madness".

But a new, particular rumor gobbled the attention of everyone present.

Daemon Targaryen was to return to the Riverlands. And with him and Caraxes, he'd bring forth the formerly wild dragon, Sheepstealer, mounted by none other than Nettles.

The Lady had been acquainted with the bastard girl before – when the Sowing of the Dragon Seeds reveled in their first borne crops.

Another troubling report came forth. King's Landing had been secured by Rhaenyra.

When (Y/N) heard the news be whispered, she almost collapsed on her knees in glee. This must have marked the end of it. Surely, the usurpers would be put through the sword, leaving all to be well, and right again.

The Greens would die. They would face trial.

The Greens.

Indeed, word in Harrenhal spread fast. And she'd just been made the wife of the cruelest of them all.

Dread filled her insides. Her eyes cast their darkened shadow over the walls of the cursed Keep. A single, fundamental truth raised strongly from her anxious wallowing.

If Daemon Targaryen should find out about her marriage to his nephew, and get to her first… naught of the loyalty of the Riverlords would have a single say in her decided fate. And she would meet her end by the way of his blade, Dark Sister.

Now, more so than ever, it was pivotal for her to escape.

The clock was ticking.

And she was running out of time.

***

Her last day in Harrenhal was spent making plans. She'd rubbed her temples a myriad times, and paced about the room in a dizzying trot.

It wasn’t enough for her to disappear – she had to ensure everyone else thought she was gone.

When Aemond returned, she beckoned his call by jumping to her ready feet. The girl took him in, in his devillished state, and merely raised her brows at him. Whenever she saw him, the nick on her palm and lip itched at her relentlessly.

Neither was willing to recognize aloud what had transpired two moons ago, but both knew the inevitable punishment that would come with Aemond's actions.

He took a seat by the edge of their bed, and took his dagger out to play with it.

In vain he had asked Alys to share with him what she could see. She laid in broken, cradling her forming bump – the one she so desperately tried to hide away from him. The one thing that once meant her protection and raise in rank, now could very well heed out her doom.

Her green eyes raised from the floor below them, and Alys merely shook her head.

"There is fire, my Prince. Fire, and blood, and death."

"Going out to face two dragons is a death sentence." His deep voice rumbled through the silent chamber, "I can't afford that risk anymore with you involved."

And there it was. The silent admission of what he had done.

"We'll have to move from Harrenhal. You'll get to meet Daeron in Oldtown."

Was he sorry for what he did?

"It was about time you got acquainted with the rest of the family."

Aegon's cause was lucky that Storm's End was already too involved. They couldn't turn in their banners to the other front. Not now.

"It's a wonderful idea." She uttered in a glacial tone, barely above a whisper. "When will we depart?"

Sharpened orbs came in contact with the loneness of a purple eye.

The man took in a sparring breath, and hummed at her obedient retreat. The Prince's fist clenched over his cutting wound, and he nodded his head firmly.

"Should we be graced with the Gods' favor, issa jorrāelagon, then on the morrow," He explained, "but no sooner than that."

The girl's brows furrowed in discontent, as Aemond faltered in pressing the matter further. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with the aid of two long fingers, and heavily rose from his seat.

"Don't wait for me tonight. I shall return to you in the morning. I have unfinished business to attend to."

Lack of air. And crippling fear.

Her tiny world had been thrown into the arms of chaos. But everything fell so perfectly into place.

As soon as Aemond had mounted Vhagar, as soon as her father of wings died upon the night's first watch, the woman sprung to her feet, and began her soul's ascent into the pits of the Seven Hells.

She started off by breaking in her tiny mirror, placing a goose feather pillow below and over it, to somehow mask the clefty noise.

Her long hair was the first to go. She began cutting it swiftly, using big and brisk movements to chop off as many of her luscious locks as she possibly could.

She ripped the mattress of the bed open with one of the bigger shards, and revealed Aemond's dried-up shirt, that she had tucked well under after washing it, long preparing it for that occasion.

Her stomach churned as her hand went to her chamber pot. Risking her own deniability, she submerged her digits deep within it, letting out a victorious huff as she brushed across a piece of cold felt.

The insides of the sack revealed fermented meat – putrid, more like. She scattered the final remains of it over the stone floor like a mad-woman, and ripped the latter pages of the book Alys had gifted her.

She would take the passage to the stables, and simply hope for the best.

Her eyes searched feverishly about the cluttered room, but the hammering in her heart stilled only as she gaped upon the lower left corner of the wall full of banners.

There it was. Exactly where Alys told her it was going to be.

She tore into the mattress further, spreading the wool around, and grabbed a hold of a piece of wood from the crackling fire.

May she be forgiven for what she was about to do.

Her shaky hands grasped the lumber strongly, and she let it roll in the middle of the room, allowing it to fall with a loud bang.

***

The sound of wailing screams echoed inside her head, scratching at her ears, to the point of making them almost bleed. The heat of the fire she caused fell over her skimpily clothed back, and the disgust she felt with herself was palpable against her tongue.

With every turn she took, she made herself another promise. She would not rest until the war would see its end. She'd never sleep warmly again, and forever remind herself of the sacrifice she had to make – of all the lives that she undoubtedly ended, if only to meet her selfish ends.

For once, this was not just Aemond's doing. This was her fault all alone.

Blinded by rage, and seething with fury, her feet carried her down the crooked set of stairs. The woman brought a hand up to her face, and coughed wildly in the back of it. She'd have to make a bold turn soon. Then the outside world would heed, and she would be free again.

With just a twinge of luck, the guards should think that whatever was left of her room collapsed upon herself inside. Her burnt hair and clothes would create the wanted look – the meat would add the unmistakable smell of rot and death, and the lack of an actual body would take days to figure out.

And she prayed. She prayed, she prayed, she prayed: that no one else knew of the passages that she was threading through below.

Her eyes could barely see in front of her. Smoke rose to unforgiving levels, and the Lady swore it could be cut even by the dullest knife. As she reached the crossroads of the secret tunnel, her hands came to grapple at the breeches' pockets, turning them inside out – trying to find the torn pages of the book she'd just previously carried.

A sigh of relief rumbled from within her throat, as the pads of her shaking digits stroked across the withered, olden pages.

Her relief would be short lived.

Boney hands snaked around her, and the girl nearly screamed – until the familiar scent of mint and wild berries floored her senses.

"Alys?!" Her voice let out in an exasperated high. "Alys, we need to hurry!"

But her able hands still hesitantly clung to the soft material of her shirt, digging so deeply into it, that she could rip it in a downward pull.

"You –" She began to say, but cut herself short as she momentarily closed her eyes.

No matter what, she couldn’t tell the Lady before her that she'd have sent her upon her death.

"You took a wrong turn. This isn't the right way towards the South Gates."

The adrenaline flooded her veins. Her heart was pumping wildly against her ears. Lady Tully only nodded, failing to process that Alys had, in fact, never given her access to such an option on the crudely drawn map.

"This way, (Y/N) – came quickly!"

Two sets of legs descended further into the murky passages of Harrenhal. At one point, the smoke had gotten so very thick, that both women had to feel their way out, by touching the corners of every tunnel that they surpassed.

When all seemed lost, Alys finally spoke, "Over here!" She yelled out to her, and latched onto Aemond's dampened shirt.

They stumble into each other, as the small opening of the stifling cellar reaches the South Gates. The witch stops hastily on her heel, and the young Lady nearly busts their cover.

A raid of soldiers came flocking out, with what then looked like tens of thousands of squealing maids. So frightened by their own demise, they bumped into the oak doors and onto each other – choosing to, instead of unlocking the main Gates, reach and pull at the other's hairs, cursing loud and wildly.

Alys let out a bemused huff at their perused antics, but her reglament was short lived; as one of the smarter lassies reached for the illustrious piece of wood, and opened the doors with the loudest of creak.

"Now's our chance," The Lady of Riverrun whispered to her fellow escapee, grabbing onto her wrist harshly, and dragging her out and into the light. "Mingle in the crowd, Alys –"

"My Lady, do not stray far –"

The older woman let out a staggering breath, as she raised her skirts to follow suit on the trail left by the hot-headed girl.

She is Elmo's daughter alright, she disarmingly told herself, Just as hopeless and reckless as he once was.

Alys almost tackled her to the ground, as Lady Tully succumbed herself deeper into the burnt out forest. She gripped onto her hands with hers, so harshly, that she'd definitely leave her mark. "I thought I had told you not to stray far."

The breathless form of the lost child before her appeared to be enough to soften a tad of her resolve. "When I tell you something, I expect you to do it."

Whilst chastising her deeply for her foolhardy behavior, the woman searched her pockets, and pushed out two quarter silvers into her trembling hands.

"You'll go towards the Rushing Halls and buy yourself a mule from the Half Calf's Inn."

As the younger Lady nodded feverishly at her late advice, Alys clasped her cheeks with her hands, and brought her head further towards her. "You'll keep a straight line to the Green Fork. You won't stop to eat or drink – you won't stop until you reach Hag's Mire. Make sure to cover the cut on your hand with this." As she spoke, Alys pushed a black glove into her resting hands.

The Bliss of Riverrun threw the witch a bewildered look. Her eyes searched adamantly for hers, and the woman panted out in pure wonder. "How did you know I intended on migrating North?

"I've already seen you do it." She shook her shoulders promptly, "I've already seen you succeed."

Her green eyes softened, if only for a blazing moment; but the crackling of the trees behind them snapped her out of her inward trance. "Don't waste anymore time. Your diversion was smart, but he will try to find you."

The girl reached down, to squeeze her hands, perhaps, in a wordless display of gratitude and affection. Her soft fingers interlaced over her boney knuckles, and Alys muttered a faint blessing over the twisted arch of her furrowed brow.

The Lady turned around, but not before pausing and shooting the witch one last fiery look. "Come with me." She offered determinedly, and shook her head strongly as Alys took a step back. "He'll try to punish someone for it. You're his next available girl." She begged her to see to reason.

"My place remains here. By his side."

(Y/N)'s eyes hardened at her thorough admission, but she strained herself to shoot the wet nurse back with a curt nod.

"I shan't forget what you did for me." She promised her elder with a minute smile.

"A heads-up when you next decide to set the whole stronghold on fire would be most appreciated…!" She lightheartedly told her, despite the obvious wabbling of her lower lip.

(Y/N) nodded, but remained hammered in place for another while. Alys' hand reached to cup over her face, but a brisk moment of clarity was quick to change her mind.

"Go, you foolish girl…!" She snapped, "Make good use of that promise you made."

Her feet began moving on their own accord. Her mind was blazing with all of the unfinished tasks at hand.

She would run towards the Rushing Halls. Buy a mule. Retreat towards Green Fork. Reach the Twins.

Her road shall lead to Winterfell. If Forrest Fray remained the same kind fool that he once was, she should have no trouble sending Cregan Stark a raven.

And if she could reason with Jacaerys' friend, take in his testimony of protection, perhaps her life wasn't lost just yet.

The gusts of wind ran through her shortened and unkempt hair. Aemond's clothes hung loosely over her, and the stench of fire and ash filled her nostrils with something else other than hopeless dread.

Never before in her life, did the girl run so fast.

Taglist:

Translations:

Gevie… = Beautiful;

Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon, issa dōna jorrāelagon. Nyke kivio ao naejot sagon gīda. = Do not worry, my sweet love. I promised you I would be patient;

Mēre tubis ao jāhor jaelagon issa. = One day you will desire me;

Se Jaes emagon qrimbrōstan issa naejot jorrāelagon ao. = The Gods have cursed me to love you;

Gīda ilagon, Vhagar. Sagon nykeēdrosa... Sȳz hāedar. = Calm down, Vagar. Be still. Good girl;

Jaes, ao istan vēttan syt issa. = Gods, you were made for me;

Sepār jurnegon skorkydoso īlon kostagon fāelor hēnkirī. = Just look how perfectly we fit together;

Dōna hāedar… ȳdra daor hakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa sir = Sweet girl… don't pull away from me now;

Yn nyke istan zarvīzis. Nyke emagon issare sīr sȳz se… sīr, sīr zarvīzis. = But I've been patient. I've been so good and… so, so patient;

Ao aehron raqagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon bisa... = You act like you don't want this…;

Yn ao jaelagon issa sepār hae olvie. Ao mazilībagon syt issa – sepār hae qosaevaerī. = But you want me just as much. You ache for me – just as badly.

Ÿdra daor dīnagon, issa gevie Dāria. Nyke jāhor dōrī jaelagon naejot ōdrikagon. = Don't cry, my beautiful Princess. I would sooner die than hurt you;

Valyrian Wedding Vows: Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows, two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a future promised in glass – the stars stand witness, of the vow spoken through time, of darkness and light;

Nyke gīmigon, Vhagar. Gīmigon. = I know Vhagar, I know;

Se Jaes daoriot rȳbagon naejot nykeā vala raqagon issa. Yn nyke jāhor jikagon va issa knees se kostilus zirȳla naejot ivestragī issa emagon ao. Ao issi issa rōva botagon se se olvie rivaestra lambraes aohvra. = The Gods don't listen to men like me. But I would go on my knees and beg them to let me keep you. You were once the bane of my existence… and now, you find yourself the center of it.

[notsoattractivearenti]

Future (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader)

WC: 1.2K

Warnings: none

A/N: tried to rewrite the lost bday fic for christian but i couldn't, instead i wrote different fic! another short fic cuz i haven't been able to write a long one. hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

–

You came to visit Christian in Milan with his family: Christian’s parents, Mark and Kelley, his sister, Devyn and his niece, Avery. They were there for 4 days while you stayed for another 10 days – you were able to take some time off of work, and it had been 6 months since the last time you saw your boyfriend in person. You got to spent your early days in Milan together with his family especially when Christian was training during the day. 1-year-old Avery loved to be around you and Christian – most of the times she would ask for you to carry her and play with her. At the beginning of your relationship, you and Christian had a talk about how you envision your future, together or separately, and it was completely clear that you both want a marriage and kids. Even so, you don’t want to rush into anything yet because you know how hard it is to raise kids, no matter how cute or sweet they are as babies. Right now, you’re still enjoying being the “fun aunt” and a “dog mom” to your and Christian’s newly-adopted puppies, Bubba and Coco, and you have no intention of having a baby anytime soon.

But Christian, he couldn’t stop thinking about how great it would be to have a little human with you right now. He basically was surrounded by adults with little kids and it made him think maybe it was time for both of you to consider adding the newest member to your family – yes, even though you weren’t married yet, you already considered both you and him as a little family, and your puppies are also a part of it. When he saw how close you were with Avery, it was so moving and adorable his heart couldn’t handle it. His mind was basically occupied with the possibility of growing your family, but he wasn’t sure if you were on the same page. 

When it was time for Christian’s family to go back home, he and you drove them to the airport. Since the day before, Avery didn’t seem excited to go home. She was completely attached to you, not wanting to let you go – at night she wouldn’t stop crying unless you put her to sleep. And shortly before they boarded the plane, Avery cried and pulled your shirt – she was likely trying to get you on the plane with her – and it broke yours and Christian’s hearts. But you promised her you would see her right when you’re back from Milan, and she calmed down for a bit. And at that moment, Christian realized he had to tell you what he had been thinking about this whole time. Still unsure where you would stand about the whole baby thing, but he thought it was better if he was being open with you, although he was a lot nervous about how you were going to react.

–

As a part of your nighttime routine, you always read a book – at least a chapter – before going to sleep. That night, you were sitting quietly on the bed, already in your pajamas with your bottom half wrapped under the blanket and just started reading a chapter when Christian came in and sat on his side of the bed. He genuinely loves this unique routine of yours – he finds it really adorable. Christian rested his chin on top of your shoulder.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking for a while about expanding our family…” he spoke softly into your ear, “I think I’m ready for a baby.”

Your eyes suddenly widened and the clock stopped ticking for a moment. You were so caught off guard by what you just heard – you had to make sure he really said what you thought he said.

“Sorry, what was that?” You asked in shock.

“I want a baby. Our baby.” He affirmed.

“Oh, uh…” He really got you startled.

“Christian, I… I just… Uh…”

“Sweetheart that’s okay, we don’t have to try for one so soon. We can wait until you're ready. I’m just saying what I needed to say.” He assured you.

You closed your book and put it on the table next to your bed. You couldn’t continue reading as you were no longer able to concentrate on the book. 

“Sorry, Chris, it’s just so sudden… Geez, what’s gotten into you?” You nervously laughed.

“I don’t know, seeing you being all affectionate with Avery makes it feel right. I know we have our fur babies but I just can’t stop thinking about having our little human baby… But again, only when you’re ready.” He emphasized.

“Okay, listen. You know me, Chris, I also want to have children with you. But there’s just a lot to think about, such as where are we going to raise them, or how do we fit our work schedules around them, or how much childcare will cost if we’re going to need it, or most importantly, are we mentally and emotionally prepared to be parents?” You expressed your thoughts to him.

“Kids are going to need stability and as for right now, I’m still going back and forth between USA and Italy to be with you. You spend most of your year here in Italy while I spend mine in the States. I’m okay with that, but for a child, it could be a lot.” You continued.

“Y/N, sweetheart… Those are some really good points. Yes, a lot to consider, and that’s why I keep saying ‘when you’re ready’. You’re the only person I want to be the mother of my children, and I will wait no matter how long it takes.”

He always knows what to say, that smooth talker. Your heart felt so full and warm and at the moment, the biggest grin appeared on your face.

“Awww, how lucky am I to be with the sweetest man alive!” You booped his nose.

“Okay, genuine question. How many kids do you want, Chris?”

“Up to you. You’re the one who will go through the pregnancy and give birth. So I want children as much as you want, and when it happens, I will be by your side all the time.” He answered softly while looking deeply into your eyes and held both of your hands.

“You know, maybe we can just… Plan things out before actively trying for a baby? But be prepared, we’re going to have a lot of long conversations.” You suggested.

He agreed. “Sounds great. Looking forward to planning our life with you, my love.”

“Oh and um, I don’t see any rings on my finger,” you jokily pointed at your ring finger, “maybe give me one first?"

“Oh trust me, you won’t see it coming!” He chuckled then kissed you on your cheek.

“You know, Y/N,” he adds, “you’re going to be a wonderful mom. Our kids would be so lucky to have you.”

“Chris, stop making me blush!” You covered your face which was already turning red.

“And you’re going to be the best dad, I can tell. I’m excited to see the day you become one.” You said as you kissed his shoulder.

He smiled at you. “Yeah, so am I.”

“By the way, I know we’re not making babies anytime soon but… Are you interested in making love instead?” He teasingly asked.

“Christian Mate Pulisic!” You playfully gasped. “Yes, yes, I’m very much interested. Now take off your clothes!”

–

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[choicesficwriterscreations]

July Creator of the Month: Eadanga

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month: @eadanga

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Tumblr Blog Name: Eadanga How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Esang

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I don't remember the year, but I started playing when it was only The Crown & The Flame, The Freshman, and Most Wanted. I thought it was a rip-off of Episode because many apps like that exist. The first book I started playing was The Crown & The Flame, and then I got bored of it, so I tried The Freshman, and I was hooked. Been playing ever since 😃

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined about four years ago. I was in a Choices group on Facebook and saw people sharing fanfics. I first thought it was an ad, but when I looked, it was a fanfic, and it was amazing. That's when I joined so I could read more, and then I posted one of my own that I wrote.

3- How did you pick your blog name? 

Literally, it's just my name. I didn't think I'd be here long, not to mention posting. It's the first letter of my name, Esang, and my last name, Adanga. Maybe one day I'll change it 🤣😂

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

This was my first post. I saw people making stories in the Choices group and decided to make one of my own. I didn't think it would get much attention, but it did 😁

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both? 

I write fanfiction, but I’m not really good at making art, lol

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

Let's see, I think I started in 2020. Choices is the only fandom I write for.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

The Freshman and The Royal Romance will always be my number one favorite books to read and write for 😁

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

This was my favorite, and I'll never change anything about it. It is so romantic, hehe 😍

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created? 

This one wrote it for @flowerpowell, and even though she doesn't post anymore, it was so much fun to write something for her. 

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

It's definitely my Deepest Desire series. I didn't expect people to enjoy it, especially @littlegreenmoo, who was having a field day with that series 🤣. Chris's Journal could have been better; a little bit more detail would have made it pop.

11- (WRITERS) If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

I hate angst, and I haven't written smut since my Deepest Desire series 🤣 so fluff all the way. I love happy endings 😁

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

I put some of me in my MCs, like when they're cooking, cause I love to cook 😁

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Keeping up with a schedule. I make one, but then real life gets in the way, and I gotta change it.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Eternal Love, I haven't written for that in a long time. I just got caught up with other fanfics, and then you lose inspiration, but I will get back to it one day.

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first? 

Yes, I would love to show them, but I've shown my work without people asking. I've shown my best friend my work; she didn't ask. I just showed it to her, and she enjoyed it. I've shown my mom, too. She constantly told me to send it somewhere and get paid even though I only write for fun, not as a job. I stopped showing her after that because she was tired of hearing that.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

@maxattackpowell and @drivenbyfantasy are both no longer here, but their fanfics inspired mine. I’m grateful to both of them for that. 

17- (WRITERS)  Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

The Graduate would make a great movie or Choices book, hehe.

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art? 

Choices is my first fandom.

19-  What other hobbies do you have?

I love cooking and baking, watching anime (I'm a total anime nerd 🤣), spending time with my baby @choicesgodfanatic, reading Archie comics, watching cartoons, praise dancing, and writing episode stories. 

20- BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to)

Thanks to everyone who enjoys all my stories, and don't ever worry about me leaving cause I'm here to stay. Choices is why I met my amazing love @choicesgodfanatic. It's part of our love story, and I'll never give up on it.

Plus, I've met some wonderful people here and never want to leave them. So glad you all enjoy my fanfics, and look out for many more cause more is coming your way 😁

[soothinglee]

even if my heart stops beating⏤✰

seungmin x reader | 1.6k✔︎

my notes⎯ hello everyone ! I know it's been a while since I've actually wrote something ! I actually got hit by a bus! yeah I had to sue this company called "writers block" and I finally got a settlement! (also happy new year!) I recently (like a week ago) got into Kpop, specifically Stray Kids ! I've read some fan fictions (shameless) about some of my favorites and got inspo to write one! thank you @soobnny . also I haven't wrote anything in a while so i'm a little rusty, i'll be as good as new soon!

warning⎯ mentions of vomit (used as word vomit) and crying.

genre⎯ angst to comfort.✔︎

songs⎯ six feet under; billie eilish | pretty boy; the neighborhood

the old rusted clock that came with the condo you and seungmin bought sits perched on the top of the fridge. Its old, wooden frame slowly caves in on itself as time goes on.

not even an hour or two ago you had happily entered your home to start cooking dinner, not even worrying about showering first because you were so excited to have dinner with your boyfriend.

even going out of your way to spend a hundred dollars over the amount you usually spend to give seungmin the greatest 'welcome home' feast. he and the rest of stray kids had been on tour for the last couple months, traveling all over the world to perform at concerts and do collaborations with other idols to promote their new albums.

sure, it had been lonely, being by yourself all of the time, the only glimpse of your boyfriend you could get is when he could facetime you for 2 minutes or when he responded back to a text 4 hours later. but you understood, you knew what you were getting yourself into even when you started becoming friends with him.

if anything, you were strong, understanding, and flexible to when he couldn't make it to something like a movie night or date when his plane arrives later or practice runs over.

the only thing now, is that he had promised you that he could make it on time to dinner. sending countless 'I swear ill be there' texts and swift calls ensuring his presences at the dinner table during his dance rehearsals.

but now you were sitting at the table alone. a cold jajangmyeon sits in the platter in front of you, a similar on across the table from you. looking up at that old clock the hour turns to 10 and he's officially 2 hours late. it wasn't unknown for him to run a little over his time but this was unbelievable. you curse yourself for being naive and truly thinking he would keep to his word.

as you get up and clean the meal that you created you feel a little piece inside of you break, watching your hard work spill into the leftover containers like your tears. this was embarrassing, waiting around like a puppy in hopes your owner comes home. you were loyal and hopeful to a fault but wasting time and money like this was just unacceptable.

by the time seungmin walked through the front door it was half pass midnight and you had situated yourself infront of the t.v watching a new drama a colleague from work recommended.

"(name)." he calls out, you hear his shoes hit the wall as he takes them off, and then theres a shuffle as he organizes them on the shoe rack. you hear him leave his keys in the bowl on the desk that was by the front door, his footsteps growing louder as he nears the living room.

"(name)." he calls out again, seeing you lay in a cocoon of blankets in the dark, he think maybe you're sleeping so he quietly discards his winter coat on the back of the couch. he flicks on the lamp on the other side of the couch to bring in some light. though when he comes around to sit down he finds your eyes wide open, "why didn't you answer me when I called?"

"why didn't you come on time like you promised?" you quipped back quietly, suddenly too exhausted to have any conversation with him. you try and sink further into the thick blanket as you watch the Netflix symbol load and the next episodes intro plays.

you can't see his face but when he sighs and shifts in his spot you can hear the hesitance, "you already know why, practice ran late, like always."

"whatever."

"'whatever?' what's going on with you?"

"nothing." your tone is snipped but honestly you couldn't care less. somewhere in your soul you feel as though this might be a little extreme of an reaction but there is only so much patience you can give one person. you constantly make time for him and this relationship, so why couldn't he move things around and do the same for you? your eyes remain on the television.

seungmins eyes dart quickly to the t.v and then back to you, noticing that your full attention isn't on him, so he leans over you and goes to grab the remote from your hands. at the sudden loss of contact you make a move to try and get the remote back from him but he effectively powers down the t.v and discards in on the coffee table.

"I'll only repeat myself so many times, what's going on?"

it was like a newfound energy fizzled at your toes and pushed itself up and towards your head, your body springs up from its sideways position and you angle yourself to face seungmin.

though the light was somewhat dim due to only the lamp being on, he could see the red-rim of your eyes and the dried streaks of tears sticking to your cheeks. obviously, it had been evident that you had been crying.

seungmins eyes soften for a moment, he reaches out to try and smooth out the puffiness of your cheeks but as soon as you see his hand coming you push it away, "you were crying?" it comes out more of a statement than a concerned question, but the worry was still evident in his tone.

"duh," you start, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the tense space, you find comfort in the carpet on the ground. you were feeling...nervous. you didn't want to cause anymore problems but things won't get solved unless they are discussed, which in all honesty, the thought of confrontation in the first place is feared.

you need to get it out, you can't stop living like this. deep down you know he cares but you have to stop going off of assumptions. either he's going to show up or not, it was clear already that you showed up no matter how busy you were.

"do you even still love me?"

the question tumbles from your lips before you could even process what you were saying. maybe it wasn't what you wanted to convey exactly but it was definitely a start.

"what?" his airy voice sounds dumbfounded which makes sense. the intense look you're giving him plus the profound, out-of-the-blue question throws him off guard.

of course he loves you, why would you ever think anything different? "where is this coming from?"

"well it's just that every time we have something planned your work gets in the way. I spend hours and hours getting ready, trying to look my best, just to waste the day sitting on the couch waiting for you to come home. sometimes I'm waiting so long I fall asleep! I put so much effort into being a good girlfriend! hell, I even spent over 100 dollars on dinner tonight because I knew you had a hectic day, it took me two hours to make it just for it to go cold and put into a container,"

your voice chokes up, full of exhaustion and disappointment. you feel the tears pooling in your eyes but have no energy to stop them. you really want to quit the word vomit but there's no point, theres more to be said.

"I try so hard to not get disheartened but it gets so hard when you don't even try. sometimes I feel like you don't even care about this relationship anymore, like you don't care about m-"

just as you were about to finish your words were muffled by hands on your face, and lips on yours. seungmin had kissed you to stop your rambling. you couldn't help but to feel relieved and somewhat offended.

"stop." he whispers as he takes a breath, his hands still on your face, foreheads connecting, "please stop." his voice crack under pressure, its subtle but at the lack of distance between you two you can hear it so well. your eyes are closed, trying to get your own tears at bay but hearing how emotional he's becoming breaks you. a sob teeters at your bottom lip but you force it still.

"don't you ever think that I don't care. I always have." he pauses and wipes the stray tears on your face with his thumbs, "I'm so sorry I've made you feel like this. god I'm such a bad boyfriend, this is my fault."

you try to move away to comfort him but he holds you in place gently, you sniffle and reach up to brush the bangs from his face.

"I promise you I'll be more attentive, ill take you out everyday, spend as much time with you, cook for you, miss practices all the time just to make sure you know I care about you."

"you promised earlier but you didn't come!" you cry, recounting how long you waited.

"I know!" his voice quivers as his hands tremble, lightly shaking your head, "I know...and i'll never forgive myself. you don't know how much you've shaped me into the person I am now and I- I have no clue what I would do without you. I just have a poor way of showing it."

you grip on his wrists, mimicking him with your eyes squeezed shut, you stopped trying to keep the tears in awhile ago, letting them fall freely into your covered lap. "how do I know I can trust you? I'm so sick of feeling like this."

"I promise you I will prioritize you more than anything, Idol life, dancing, singing- whatever, does not come before you. I won't leave you hanging like this anymore, i'm sorry I didn't pay more close attention to your feelings," his bottom lips shakes as he takes another deep breath, he opens his eyes and you can see pass the tears and sorrow a new found determination.

"even if my heart stops beating, you're the only one I need."

past your wary judgement...you believe him...

[thewriterghost]

Lovely!!!! Would you write something about Bucky x reader/ friend who moved to another state for work? They used to be really close and talk a lot but as things go with life and distance they drifted a part a bit? But maybe from time to time she’ll think she’ll see him from behind or a side profile walking home at night and think of him and send him a “thinking of you / we should catch up! text not realizing that from time to time that who she saw was Bucky. He will check in on her and see how she’s doing in her new life

Hello!! I'm so sorry, this is so late 😭 between school and internship I hardly got any time to write. In fact, I wrote this at work lol, hopefully you like it! Let me know what you think!

Summary: You moved away from the compound because of school. It's been a lonely few months now. That's definitely the reason you think you're seeing Bucky from the corner of your eye every time you look around, right?

An autumn breeze catches you off guard, right when you are leaving your school building for the day. It was warmer during the day, you think as you walk to your bus stop. It's a lonely time of day, an orange glow of sunlight illuminates the empty bus stop.

As you make it a point to crash every red or yellow leaf you see on your way without being too obvious, out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of a familiar metallic glow. That same feeling you always get around him, the butterflies and the hippos come back to your stomach, making your heart beat a million times a moment. Your eyes snap towards it, but it disappears all too fast for you to spot, leaving you with disappointment and longing.

You miss him. You try not to, but it's not easy not talking to him everyday like you did before, not being able to hang out on 3 am when both of you are too stubborn to go to sleep, or not being able to just exist at the same place at the same time with various animals in your stomach (figuratively).

You grab your phone from your pocket and click on his name on your messaging app. You hand hovers over the text box for a while, until you decide to just write to him. It's not like you haven't been talking since you left, it's more like you didn't want to talk all too much because of how much you'd want to just drop everything and go to him. Still, you think, enough is enough.

"Hey, you busy?"

You wait for a moment, anxiously nibbling on your lower lip. It doesn't take him more than 60 seconds to write back.

"Nope. You?"

You write back, biting down a smile.

"Nope. Just got out of school, going home."

You can almost hear his grumble-ish answers through your phone. A message pops up.

"Isn't it late? I thought you got off at 4."

You must've told him your schedule, but your mind doesn't come up with a memory to support it. You shrug it off and type.

"Yeah, I had to make a presentation and I was the last one of the class so the professor just agreed to do it now rather than next week."

"Does that mean you're free next week?"

You can't help but smile brightly. Looks like you're not the only one missing the other.

"Does that mean you miss me?"

You can almost see his scoff. You giggle to yourself.

"Does that mean we can meet?" He answers. You jump at the opportunity almost too fast.

"Yeah, sure. When are you free?"

"Whenever you're free."

"You don't have a mission or anything?"

"I'll bail." His answer makes you laugh out loud, maybe the first sincere laugh since you've been here.

"If it's not going to be a trouble for you."

"It won't. When should I pick you up?"

You check your schedule on your mind. You would be free tomorrow afternoon.

"Tomorrow afternoon? 2-ish maybe?"

"Sounds good."

You contemplate on whether to write it or not, but then think why not and type.

"I missed you, you know." And you put the phone on your pocket, face starting to burn up.

Your phone buzz, and you get the phone out faster than light.

"I missed you too." Your eyes glance over the letters more than once, each time smiling even more, until you find yourself giggling to yourself at 6 pm on an empty bus stop.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Another text appears on your screen, leaving you happier that you've ever been since the last few months.

Next day goes too slow for your taste. You keep finding yourself shaking your knee up and down with anticipation.

You are out of the door when the clock hits 2 pm. As you arrive at the school gates you realize you haven't told him where to come. You pull out your phone to type, but stop at your tracks when you hear it.

"Hey."

Sitting on a black motorcycle, blue eyes and black jacket catches you off guard. A smile creeps on to your lips.

"Hey." You return the sentence as you find your feet and move towards him. He has a gentle smile as well, uncharacteristically for him as people would say, but not for you. You've seen him like this before. When you were up all night and baked not one, not two, but three batches of cookies together, you've seen that same smile everytime your eyes have met. Or that one time when it was raining too hard and you were too sick to go to mission, and he stayed to look after you, cuddling you since he can't get sick because of serum.

He takes your helmet from the back and after looking at you with that sweet smile of his for a moment, he puts it on for you, clipping it with delicate movements.

"Hop on." He instructs and you obey, hugging him from behind with a pair of red cheeks which thankfully can't be seen thanks to your helmet.

As he takes off, you don't bother to ask where to. After a brief 10-15 minutes, he stops in front of a small cafe near a park.

"Were you around here yesterday?" You ask, recalling the silver glimmer you saw yesterday evening.

"I was on a mission." He shrugs.

"Huh." You mumble. Seeing his puzzled look, you add. "I thought I saw you yesterday, after school. Right before I texted you, in fact."

"You must've missed me a lot." He smirks, opening the door to the cafe for you. Always a gentleman.

"Must've." You return the smile as you walk in.

As you both get your coffees and pastries, you decide to ignore the fact that he probably was here yesterday. In fact, he probably was around since you moved here. Watching out for you, worrying about you, missing you.

"What are you smiling about?" You come back to real life when he gently nudges your shoulder with his.

"Oh, nothing." You shake your head. "I was just thinking, we should meet more often. It's been too long."

"Yeah, agreed." He replies with a smile of his own. You don't realize the look in his eyes, confirming your theory.

[mara-and-its-the-same]

JJ's got a little family and they're just having a day on the town. CWs:Mean old ladies, protective dad jj, mom reader, preschooler daughter, taking a pregnancy test, implied smut, I think he calls her momma once or twice, no grammar, I avoided y/n but I don't know if I did it well; let me know if I missed anything Wc:3.9k

Well this was an incredibly self indulgent fic because the scenario was brewing in my lil noggin for at least two months and then I was like well it's doing no good in there and the only reason I even watched obx was for this man, and this man alone. And so here you go. I haven't read this since I wrote it I just wanted to post something before I start posting my long fic.

 "Babe, are you even listening?" JJ finally caught his wife's attention from the ring on her left hand. 

"Yes, but look." She held her hand up to let the diamond catch the light, sending rainbows flying across the ceiling of the car as she shifted it back and forth. "It's so shiny."

"I know, love." He took her hand and kissed her fingers. "That's why I picked it, but enough of that we have things to do! A list to check off! You ready Tiny?" He called to the back seat.

"Mhm, all ready," his 4 year old daughter, Iris, giggled from the back seat. 

"Let's go then. I'll get her, you get a cart, ok?" 

"Sounds good to me," JJ answered, then left on his assigned mission with a salute.

Iris laughed with her mom, "Daddy's so silly."

"Yes he is baby, you have no idea." She finally got all the clips undone just as JJ was bringing the cart over, so all she had to do was lift her up and into the cart.

"Weeeee," Iris cheered as she landed in the seat. "Again, again."

"We can do it again when we get back, we gotta get the stuff first, silly." JJ made a face at her while the three of them walked into the store.

He went through all the pockets in his shorts until he found the list. "Divide and conquer?" he suggested

"Absolutely not, I'm not leaving you two alone together and I'm definitely not letting you off on your own. Let's go." She led them down the produce aisle and took the list from JJ. "You got a pen?"

JJ handed her one and she crossed the first item off the list putting a bag of grapes in the cart. Iris made grabby hands towards it and she gave in, setting the bag in her lap.

***

Halfway down the list and a third of the way through the store JJ and Iris started tossing grapes in each other's mouths. 

"You want one, baby?" He asked, offering her a grape while she scanned the shelves for the right brand of flour.

"No, I'm ok." She looked around like she was trying to remember something. "Ummm, I'm gonna go grab something. I forgot it when we were over there 'cause it's not on the list. I'll be right back. Don't eat them all!" She pecked JJ on the cheek before disappearing down the aisle.  

 Iris crossed her arms on the handle bar and laid her forehead on it, "I'm booored."

"Me too but we gotta stay here till your mama gets back, ok kid?" He copied her posture and tilted his head so he could look at her better. She had his hair and eyes but besides that she looked exactly like her mother. 

"Fine," she groaned and he offered his fist out for her. 

"Ready?" he asked and she nodded.

"Rock, paper, scissors," they both said at the same time. JJ put up scissors and she put up rocks. "Awww you got me, again?"

"Yeah." They played for a few more rounds until JJ saw his wife coming back down the aisle with her hands behind her back. She was walking quickly with her hair swishing behind her. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at what she could be rushing from. He worried something had happened in the 5 minutes she was away. 

She threw the small boxes in the cart behind the other bags and nodded her head behind her at an old lady giving them dirty looks. "Don't say anything, just keep walking ok?" she whispered to him while trying to act natural. She wasn't quiet enough because Iris still heard and asked what was wrong. "Nothing baby, don't worry about it." She stroked her daughter's golden hair back from her face and kissed her forehead, taking control of the cart. JJ put a comforting hand on her back as they passed the old lady still giving them the stink eye.

She said something under her breath. "Excuse me?" JJ said defensively. 

"I just think irresponsible children like you can't make responsible parents."

"And what makes you say that?" He put his hands on his hips and stared the old woman down.

"JJ please." She rubbed her thumb over Iris's hand.

"No, I'd like to know, what makes you think my wife and I are irresponsible parents?"

She squared up to him, "You're far too young, too young to be married. You don't know what real life is yet how can you raise a child?"

"And you know all this after what? Following my wife for however many aisles?!" Iris took the phone with her favorite game offered to her, her mother knowing JJ wouldn't let up once he started.

"From the way she looked at the ! I knew she was unfit just after one look!" JJ looked back at his wife with a look of surprised confusion. She only replied with a shrug and nodded from Iris to the end of the aisle. He nodded yes back and she took the cart back up the aisle, not wanting to involve her daughter in this argument. She stopped a quarter of the way up when the man that was with the old woman before walked down to where she and JJ were arguing. "Just look at that outfit what kind of mother would walk around like that?!" The 'unfit' mother in question looked at her outfit, cutoff shorts of a reasonable length and one of JJ's faded old shirts cut into a crop top, and cocked an eyebrow. Not her most fashionable look but she just thought she was going to the grocery store with her family, not being ambushed by an impromptu episode of What Not to Wear. "Then I come here and find her already with a child. And you? So disrespectful!"

The man walked past their cart and nodded to Iris and her mother, before stopping in front of the woman and JJ. He was taller than JJ and much bigger. Despite his overbearing stature he put a hand on the woman's arm and sternly said, "Let's go, leave this nice family alone."

"No! I was just doing my shopping when I saw this- this hussy walk past." JJ's nostrils flared once and he dug his nails into his palms. The other man put a hand on her shoulder and stopped her right there.

"What is wrong with you? What have these people ever done to you to speak to her that way?"

She sputtered for an answer and JJ just shook his head and said, "It doesn't matter. Never speak to any one like that again, especially my wife." He turned back to his family and he took his wife's hand. "Let's go momma."

She blushed hard, "What did I say about calling me that when we're out?" she said with a glare.

"Nothing? I always call you that when Tiny's around." He shrugged, not knowing what she was referring to.

"Not that, you know how I feel when you call me your wife."

He finally understood her message. "Oh, but you are my wife, I just want everyone to know it." He kissed her jaw before turning to the freezers filled with ice cream. He noticed she went right for the ice cream she ate nonstop just under five years ago. "Hm, haven't had that one in a while." She shrugged with a nod. "You needa tell me something?"

She looked at him and he half expected her to look like a deer in headlights but she just calmly smiled. "When we get home."

"She's getting tired, why don't you take her to the car and I'll finish here?" She handed the empty bag of grapes to the cashier and quickly explained they ate them all but she's not going to leave without paying. There was still a bit in the cart, including the second bag of grapes.

"Are you sure? We can stay and help."

"Jay, she's falling asleep. I'll be fine, you go ahead."

"I don't know, that cart looks pretty heavy." He put his hands in his pockets and rocked up on his feet. Her only answer was to raise her eyebrows. 

"You're a mess," She kissed Iris's head, "You're gonna go to the car with daddy, baby ok?"

Iris nodded a little and when JJ picked her up she whispered the tiredest little "weeee" she could muster.

She and the cashier both smiled at the little girl half way asleep in her father's arms.

He put her down in her car seat then went to the trunk to look for a blanket when he heard a painfully nasal voice behind him. He tried his best to ignore it and give Iris her blanket even though a part of him was just itching to ask her who she thinks she is that she can speak to his wife that way. He brushed Iris's hair out of her face and made sure her blanket was tucked in. He shut the door and walked just ahead of the car to see if his wife made it out of the store yet. 

2 seconds later she stepped out with the cart full of brown paper bags. He watched her look both ways, and the way her hair moved with her long strides and the soft breeze. He was too focused on her to notice the old woman make her way over and intercept the cart on his way over to her. 

"My son finally left so I can say whatever I want now! You aren't fit to be a mother at your age! Look at what you're feeding your poor daughter! You children don't understand how to properly raise children. Letting her pick out everything she wants, shoving the phone in her face as soon as it gets too hard. I bet you're some of those "gentle parents" too, aren't you?" The young woman just looked bored out of her mind, which looking back probably only encouraged the old woman. 

JJ was worried he'd have to intervene but he didn't want to leave their daughter alone in the car, so he stood at the car but out far enough so he could watch. He knew how she gets with confrontation like this, especially with getting yelled at and strangers. But she held her own.

"Is that all, I'd really like to just get home with my family if you don't mind." She kept eye contact and spoke calmly. "I honestly don't know what you think gives you the right to yell at me and my husband, especially right in front of our daughter, when you've only see us do what? Make her a respectful, happy kid? Buy some lube? Swear? Fuckin' Christ lady leave me and my family alone." The old woman was obviously shell shocked so she just pushed the cart right past and started loading the trunk with JJ's help.

He noticed her shaky hands and unsteady breathing. "Hey, hey, hey, I got this, ok? You go wait with her inside ok?" He quickly wiped underneath her eyes and she nodded her head. 

Once he finished and got into the drivers seat, she'd had a chance to calm down. "I'm so proud of you," when she finally looked at him he swiped the sparkles lining her water line away. "I love you, so much. Tiny loves you way more than I can even describe. You did so good baby, so good." He stroked the side of her head as he spoke and kissed her head, "You ready to go?"

She swallowed the shrinking lump in her throat, "Yeah," she breathed out with a nod.

***

They laughed the whole ride home but were careful not to wake Iris. JJ did whatever he could to brighten the mood and he wasn't sure if she was laughing at his dumb jokes to stroke his ego or fake-it-till-you-make-it, or she actually thought he was funny. Any way, it worked for him. 

"Should I wake her up?" JJ asked.

"No, I'll just bring her in."

"No you will not!"

"What? Why?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Because, I have a sneaking suspicion at what your little..." he wiggled his finger in the air. "surprise is, and so, I will be taking care of everything you will let me take care of." He said with a pointed finger wagging at her.

"You're ridiculous," she laughed while getting the smallest two bags and walking up to unlock the door so JJ could bring Iris in.

"But I'm right!"

"Shhhhhh," she giggled while setting the bags on the counter. "Maybe, maybe not. We shall see, very soon."

"How soon?"

"How soon can you take care of all the groceries?"

"So fuckin' soon." He kissed the side of her head before speed walking Iris into her room and tucking her in. He made sure all the curtains were all the way shut before he ran down the hall and out to the car, taking as many bags as he could carry at a time. She thought he was like the Flash with how fast he put everything away. When he put the last bottle in the door of the refrigerator and rushed to stand right in front of her.

"Is it soon yet?" He was excited as a little puppy and she nodded while her lips were still on her water bottle. He pulled it away and put it on the counter.

"What the fuck Jay?!" She stared at him wide eyed and he just looked right at her before walking down the hall.

"Chop chop!"

"You're the worst," she mumbled under her breath while grabbing the three rectangular boxes off the counter.

***

She set the timer on her phone and they both sat with their backs against the bathtub. She lazily slung her head to face him, he did the same.

"I'm not even sure, I just think maybe."

He grabbed her hand and rested them on the small, soft rug. "Whatever it says, I'll be happy. It doesn't have to happen right now, there's loooads of time. No matter what it says, I won't be dissapointed, ok?" He kissed the back of her hand still connected to his and she nodded.

They sat like that for a few more minutes until the timer went off. "Ready?" he asked when he set her phone back down.

"Mhm, I'll flip one, you flip the other and we both flip the last?"

"Mhm." They counted down together "3,2,1" clack.

Two lines.

Two lines.

Pregnant. 

They both stared at each other for a few moments before he lifted her in a tight hug. She kicked her feet behind herself before wrapping her legs around his waist. They stayed like that for a few more minutes, just being near each other, feeling each other, breathing each other in.

"I want ice cream," she said through a wet whisper into his neck.

"Allow me, m'darlin'." He carried her into the kitchen while she giggled the whole way. He sat her on the counter top while he got the ice cream out for her.

"You're not gonna let me do anythin, are you?"

"No, I will not. For the next 9-odd months you won't have to lift a finger."

"But what if I want to?"

"As long as it's less than Tiny."

Her face dropped as she stuck the spoon back in the ice cream. "I can't hold my baby?" She pouted.

"She's gonna have to be promoted from baby." He laughed.

"But she's my baby."

"You'll have a new baby."

"Why can't they both be my babies?" She laid down on the counter, holding the ice cream on her stomach, savoring the final few weeks of not having a mound in the way.

"Hmm, I don't see why not."

"Yayyy." She smiled around the spoon.

"When can we tell her?" He sat with his chin laying on his arms next to her head.

"I think after the first scan and all that, so she can have a picture."

"Yay," he cheered and held his tongue out so she would give him some ice cream.

He gagged and ran to the sink to spit it out the second the spoon touched his tongue. She just shrugged and licked it off herself.

"I forgot how disgusting that is. How can you eat that?"

"I can't, unless I'm pregnant." She sat up on her elbows and set the ice cream down next to her. "You remember I tried it after Tiny was born and we had some left over and I almost threw up. Fuckin' revolting. I don't even know."

***

2 weeks later

"Hey Tiny! Where you at?" JJ yelled through the Chateau.

"Daddy!" Iris yelled back, running into the kitchen to meet her parents. Sarah and John B watched her but they spent most of the time outside since most of the interior was being renovated before the wedding. 

Sarah walked inside and made her way over to the other young woman, "Sooo? How was it? Any fun and exciting news?"

"It went very very well, but unfortunately I am sworn to secrecy at the moment. At the request of JJ, he wants to wait until we're all together to avoid any favoritism."

""Cause you don't want it to go like last time?"

"Exactly, what a disaster that was." She slapped a hand over her mouth at what she just admitted and pushed Sarah into the other room. She shut the door and held Sarah by her shoulders. "You cannot tell anyone. JJ will have a fit," she whisper yelled.

"You have my word," Sarah crossed her heart and they pinky promised. "If I can have yours that I get exclusive godmother rights." 

"I can't promise anything yet but I will see what I can do."

"How's the forecast look though?"

"I will say, pretty good, but you didn't hear it from me. And you cannot tell John B. JJ has to or we'll have to keep having more until he finally gets the chance. And I personally would like to keep it at a solid 2 because I don't think I could handle being outnumbered by more mini JJs."

***

When they finally got home they sat Iris down at the kitchen table and they sat across from her.

"We have some news for you, Tiny," JJ started.

"A surprise?" She stood on her chair.

"Yes baby, a surprise. But you have to sit down to get it." Her mom said, soft at first but the second in her sweet mom voice. Gentle but laced with authority, like hidden vegetables. 

JJ pulled out the row of ultrasound pictures and slid them across the table to her.

"What is it?"

"What do you think it is?" She asked while JJ just watched his daughter try to piece everything together.

"A bean...in a dark room. A bean x-ray?"

"That's actually pretty close, but it's not quite an x-ray. It's an ultrasound, and that's what the doctor used to look in my belly."

"Why?"

"To look at that."

"What's that then?" She pointed to the little blob in the center.

They both looked at JJ so he could answer. He was caught a little off guard but composed himself quickly. "Uh it's a baby, or well it will be soon, eventually."

"You're having a baby?" She looked at her mother who was beaming back at her.

"Yeah."

"Where?" Not a very specific question but she's known her daughter long enough to know what she means so she pointed to her lower abdomen.

"Here, and this is where you used to be."

"Can I touch?" She nodded and Iris came over and stood between her legs. She lifted her mother's shirt and put her hand on her stomach.

"A little lower baby," She moved her hand down to the right spot. "Right there." She looked from her daughter back to JJ who was almost crying. She took his hand while their daughter spoke to the baby. 

"Hi baby," she used the same tone her mother used with her. "I'm Iris, you're inside momma right now, that's why it's so dark. You're a little bean." She giggled but her head whipped around at the sound of JJ's sniffle. "Bye baby, I have to go talk to daddy now." She kissed the spot where her hand was and climbed up JJ's chair to hug him properly.

She was only 4 but she knew better than to ask why he was crying, her mom explained it once. Sometimes people just cry, there doesn't have to be a reason, but sometimes they feel so much it just overflows. She explained it with a glass of water after Iris had a bad day and had to get picked up early. She sat her on the counter and got a glass from the cabinet,  "Sometimes when we feel a lot of things, or a lot of one thing it's just too much and we cry to let it out." The water started spilling over the sides. "Then we feel better." She dumped out the extra and handed her the glass while whipping the glossy streaks off her blotchy face.

She was proud of her daughter and rubbed her back before clearing the table. When she finished she stood behind JJ and kissed the top of his head. "Let's go lay down baby."

"I'm not tired," he laughed while making fun of Iris a little. 

"Then we'll watch a movie," She rubbed his shoulder and they all went into their room, the bed was big enough and Iris was small enough so they all fit comfortably. They turned on Iris's favorite movie and snuggled together with Iris laying on him and his wife's head on his chest, cuddled into his side. He had an arm around each of them and Iris dozed off quickly. He smiled down at both of them, so blissfully content at the life he built for himself he never even thought possible.

"My two best girls," he whispered and leaned down to kiss both of their heads.  

"You're forgetting one." A voice groggily whispered into his chest. 

"I thought you were sleeping and we don't know that yet."

"I was. And yes we do, it's definitely a girl. I feel it."

"You do?"

"You don't?" she asked cockily and he sat with it for a moment.

"I do," he whispered back and she giggled before burying herself deeper into him and the blankets.

"Goodnight, I love you, and our family, so much." She kissed him goodnight before adjusting the blankets over all three (four) of them. 

"I love you, and Tiny, and Teeny Tiny, so much."