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ladamedusoif · 4 months

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Reunions (The Thief x F!Museum Professional Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 27

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boy Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist

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Pairing: The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) x Museum Professional F!Reader

Word Count: 2420

Warnings: Smut; fingering; oral sex (M receiving); PiV sex; a lil bit of praise kink; discussion of ethical theft from museums (yes really); The Thief is a charming gentleman cad; no use of Y/N; no physical description of reader other than that she’s wearing a midnight blue dress; alcohol consumption; strong language

Rating: 18+ MDNI

A/N: Intended as a sequel to My Kiss, Only For You - a reunion for the Thief and our museum professional, as he seeks to explain himself.

The museum is always a hive of activity ahead of the annual Winter Ball, the jewel in its fundraising crown. Doors closed to the public a few hours earlier, and since then the exhibition halls have begun to be transformed by an army of decorating staff and caterers, with flower arrangements, lighting displays, and round dining tables being set up throughout the building.

You watch the hubbub from the upper galleries that lead to the offices occupied by the curatorial staff and other professionals. A colleague from the ceramics department joins you, cooing over the extravagant setting taking shape below.

“They’ve had more demand than ever, this year,” they whisper. “The stolen ruby story has generated so much publicity for us! And it means the director can really ham it up when asking for donations from the big cheeses.”

You swallow hard but maintain your composure. You still dream about the night of the theft. Sometimes you’re cursing your own stupidity, sometimes you’re trying to shield the ruby from a hooded, faceless figure.

More often than not, though, you’re reliving the sensation of being eaten out on your own desk by a devastatingly handsome, well-dressed man with nimble fingers and a mouth made for sin.

***

Tonight, he has chosen a double-breasted jacket in a claret-coloured velvet, teamed with perfectly-cut, understated black dress pants, a white shirt, and a black bow tie.

He never fails to congratulate himself on his anonymity: his donations are made under an assumed name or in the name of his charitable trust, and his ability to fade into the background until he wants to be seen means that no one will pick him out of the crowd, recognise him, remember him.

Unless, of course, you’re there.

He always ensures that he excuses himself after the initial drinks reception and before the sit-down dinner - too awkward, too intimate, and he’s almost always seated at a table full of bores. He knows this building like the back of his hand - and knows, too, that the phalanx of additional catering and wait staff means that the back corridors and entrances to the museum will be open and less heavily patrolled. Ever since he pilfered Katarzyna’s Kiss, the security has been amped up - but tonight, he observes with a smile, the attention of the guards is firmly on the display cases and not the myriad ways to navigate this beautiful building.

He climbs the stairs to the hidden gallery that overlooks the main exhibition hall, and takes out his opera glasses to survey the crowd below. He knows the museum staff are unlikely to be seated too near the big cheeses - the directors would never think to put the people who really know their stuff front and centre, after all - so he focuses his attention on the tables around the periphery of the room.

And there you are.

A dress of midnight-blue velvet, he surmises, accessorised with simple drop pearl earrings. He knew you had taste. Knew it from the minute he first saw you, expertly leading specialist tours around the museum. Understood it when he brought you to dinner, and became so entranced by you that he almost forgot he was planning to steal a priceless ruby. Confirmed it when he made you come with his mouth and tongue across your own desk, savouring the delicious taste of you on his lips.

His cock twitches at the memory. He pats his upper breast pocket, finds the envelope, and disappears into the darkness again.

***

You wait at the temporary bar for your post-dinner dirty martini, feet starting to ache in your new shoes and eyes watching the clock so you can get out of here as soon as it’s polite to do so.

“One dirty martini, and a message for you, miss, from the gentleman.”

The bartender pushes your martini in its Nick and Nora glass and a white envelope across the bar.

“From who?”

“The gentleman, miss. He said you would understand.”

You spin around, about to ask the bartender if they recognise the man in the crowd so that you can speak to him directly, but when you turn back they’re gone.

***

You hide behind a display case of Egyptian canopic jars and sit on the floor, taking a few fortifying sips of the icy-cold martini before you dare to open the envelope.

Chérie, how beautiful you are tonight, dressed in the colour of the night sky! Forgive my unusual method of communication - I did not want to make myself known to the boring mass of guests.

I have never stopped thinking about you. I hope for a reunion. Say you’ll come, chérie. I wait for you.

Your Gentleman Thief.

The card is printed with an address located on one of the fanciest residential streets in the entire city.

***

The apartment building is quietly imposing. As you approach the main door, fear strikes you for a moment. This is a thief, after all - a charming one, true, and a handsome one, but still a thief, and one who misled you to get what he wanted.

And yet.

The doorman looks you up and down and opens the door into the lobby, directing you towards the elegant, wood-panelled doors of the elevators. “Seventh floor, miss. The gentleman will meet you there.”

You look at your reflection in the elevator mirror during the short ride. Presentable. Not bad. Probably crazy.

A ping signals that you’ve arrived, the doors open - and there he is. For a moment, you feel as though the ground is about to collapse beneath you, as those penetrating coffee-brown eyes meet yours once again, and that charming smile spreads across his handsome face.

“Chérie, you came to me,” he says softly, embracing you with a soft kiss to the cheek. “I’m so glad. Come, come - this way.”

***

He guides you to a gorgeous mid-century sofa, seamlessly taking your coat and bag as you move through the palatial apartment, decorated with a perfectly curated selection of artworks and artefacts.

“A drink, mi amor? I do enjoy playing at mixology, so I can conjure up whatever you desire. A sour? A sidecar? A boulevardier?”

Your mouth is dry, and you realise with a start that you haven’t said a word yet. “A martini. Dirty. Gin.” You swallow drily. “And a glass of water. Please.”

He prepares the drinks, mixing up a sidecar for himself, and settles beside you on the couch. He somehow looks even more appealing than he did the first night he brought you to dinner, his dark red velvet jacket unbuttoned to show off the perfectly-fitted waistband of his black, tailored pants, and his arm draped invitingly over the back of the couch.

“To art,” he murmurs, holding up his glass in a toast.

“To art,” you echo.

Silence hangs in the air for a few moments until you turn to face him. “Why am I here?”

He quirks an eyebrow and does a half-smile as he appraises you. “Why do you think you’re here?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t play with me again. Please. I won’t be taken for a fool, not a second time.”

A confused, somewhat sad expression sweeps across his face. “I do not think you are a fool, chérie. Far from it.”

“You tricked me.”

He puts his glass down on the elegant coffee table. “I did. And I am sorry. But I meant what I said - I can’t stop thinking about you, and… I want to explain.”

You glance around the room, taking in the extraordinary wealth on display. “Explain? You’re a thief. You steal. And I don’t know why I’m even sitting here with you.”

“I am a thief,” he concedes, shifting closer to you and reaching for your hand, “but all is not as it seems.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

“All this, this fortune - I did not earn it. I inherited it, simply by virtue of being the descendant of exploitative capitalists.”

“So why not give it all up? And why steal?”

He chuckles and looks at you in a manner akin to a naughty schoolboy. “I like nice things, chérie. And so do you, I suspect.”

You cannot stop the flicker of a smile that ghosts across your lips.

“You haven’t answered my second question.”

He inhales deeply. “I steal according to a moral compass, and the belief that not everything belongs in a museum - especially if it was stolen in order to put it there.”

Your expression is deeply sceptical. “Two thefts don’t make a…well, a right.”

He nods. “I agree, but my theft often leads to repatriation or returning items to their rightful owners or where they belong - which, I believe, is rather better than wanton looting by colonial powers. Don’t you agree?”

He sips his drink and continues. “So, that’s what I do. I have extraordinary wealth and privilege, and all the time in the world to research and plan. And I try to use those resources - and my intellect - for some kind of good.”

You sip your drink and shake your head. Is this some kind of weird cheese dream, brought on by the mini soufflés at the gala?

“Most people just fund a few galleries, you know.”

He chuckles. “I do that, too. But this is so much more fun, don’t you think?”

That fucking voice. His eyes twinkle mischievously and you can feel an ache between your legs. Fuck, he’s sexy.

You shift closer to him and put down your glass, reaching over to brush an errant curl away from his face. “What if you get caught?”

He bites his lip as he looks into your eyes. “Haven’t been caught yet.”

You trail your fingertips across the greying patches of facial hair along his jaw, noticing how his breath hitches at your touch. “And do you often seduce museum staff as part of your, um, work?”

He’s so close now that you can almost feel the brush of his moustache off your upper lip. He shakes his head. “Only you, chérie, and it wasn’t just for the work, I swear. I mean it, I can’t - I cannot stop thinking about you.”

You feel his hand drop to your leg and snake its way under your dress, caressing the soft flesh of your thigh and making you whine with pleasure and anticipation. “What do you think about?”

He shifts you back onto the couch and moves himself into position above you, hands tracing the outline of your body before he shucks off his expensive jacket. “I think about this,” he whispers, kissing your neck and décolletage. “I think about what it would be like to undress you, to have you completely bare, to play with your tits and your pussy as much as you liked, make you come over and over.”

Your hips buck upwards to meet his, and you moan as you realise how hard he is. You pull up the hem of your dress and slip down your panties, watching as his dark eyes widen, before unbuttoning his shirt and turning your attention to undoing his pants.

“And then what do you think about, thief?”

You pull down his boxer briefs and pants and lick your lips at the sight of his cock: hard, thick, a pearl of pre-come already glistening at the tip. You shift your body down a little so that you can easily lift your head and take him into your mouth, making him cry out at the sensation.

“What do you think about, thief? Tell me.”

You flick your tongue over the head of his cock and take as much of him into your mouth as you can, enjoying how wrecked he looks above you.

“Think about…fuck, think about this… think about oh, fuck - fucking you, taking you, having you, as much as I want - oh, fuck!”

You release him with a pop, move your body back into position and guide his hand between your legs. “Am I wet for you?”

He groans, eyes dark with lust, and nods, slipping two thick fingers inside you and fucking you with them until you come, back arching and eyes rolling with sheer pleasure.

“I need to have you, chérie,” he hisses, and you feel his cock already pressing against your pussy. “Do you want me? Use your words.”

You pull your dress up around your waist and open your legs for him. “Yes. Yes, I fucking want you. Need you.”

He reaches for his elegant black leather wallet and swiftly produces a condom packet, rolling the rubber carefully over his cock before shifting into position against you.

“I’ve wanted this since the day I met you, chérie - wanted you,” and with a steady push he’s inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way. He fondles your breasts as you both adjust to the feeling.

“Fuck me, thief.” You are direct, clear - and he obeys, dragging himself almost all the way back out before thrusting back into you and steadily building up a rhythm that has you both moaning with pleasure as he fucks into you over and over again, hands gripping your hips and lips finding yours in a messy, needy kiss.

He slips a finger against your clit and works it until you’re coming on his cock, smiling to himself when he feels your cunt clench around him and the wetness drip down onto his balls.

“Good girl, chérie,” he coos, kissing the soft skin of your breasts, exposed over the neckline of your dress. “I’m going to go a little faster now, a little harder, okay?”

You nod your assent and cry out as he fucks you harder and deeper than you’ve ever been before, legs wrapping around his warm, solid body to pull him even further into you as he comes with a loud groan and collapses onto your chest.

***

He awakes to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee and an empty bed. An envelope, simply addressed to ‘My Gentleman Thief’, is propped up against the coffee machine. He opens it with a smile.

Thief,

I wanted our reunion more than I dared admit. And now that I’ve had you, I have a feeling I’m going to want you all the more.

I suspect, too, that you have many more stories to share - preferably over dinner, and then before bed.

You know where I am.

Find me.

Chérie

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #the thief x f!reader #the thief fanfiction #the thief smut #the thief casillero del diablo #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal

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erosuguru · 10 months

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My Sister’s Best Friend Is a Total Smokeshow(?!)

MINORS+AGELESS BLOGS DNI, Hyoma Chigiri X Reader, all characters are 18+, Reader is chigiri’s older sister’s best friend, Reader is female, middle school chigiri mentioned a few times but no focus on it, theres not enough info on chigiri’s sister, 2k words

CW: NSFW, penetration, creampie, chigiri and reader fuck in chigiri’s childhood bedroom, tiddy sucking, clothed sex, no proof reading

Notes: no words shawty I wanna go to bed and read and play video games and write like theres so many things I wanna do and all I end up doing is sleeping aLSO I ACCIDENTALLY GOT LUOCHA WHILE TRYING TO BUILD PITY FOR BLADE WTHHHHH I WASNT EVEN GUARANTEED

The first time Chigiri saw you was when he was in middle school, he came home and heard chatter coming from his sister’s room, curiosity got the best of him although he still had the decency to knock first.

“Oh! Hyoma, Welcome home! (Name), this is my little brother.” His sister introduced, you were sitting next to her on her bed more upright as she was more relaxed, you smiled and nodded in acknowledgment to him.

“It’s good to meet you! Your sister’s told me a lot about you!” Maybe it was the hormones that came with his age but the younger Chigiri thought you were really pretty, his body followed orders like a robot to seem natural in front of you; he returned the nod, introduced himself and quickly excused himself, apologizing and closing the door to give his sister and you your privacy.

When you left, his sister waved bye to you at the front door and he stood behind her quietly before he let out a surprised noise when you waved bye to him as well, his sister wrote it off as puberty and that he would’ve acted like this towards any older girl. Immediately after she shut the door he bombarded her with questions: “what did you guys talk about?” “What did you tell her about me?”

After he calmed down, he found out that your family actually recently moved into the neighborhood and you met both his mother and his sister when you came by to introduce yourself, when he wasn’t home.

Slowly, as Chigiri grew older and as you visited more often, he would become more comfortable with you although there was a line he couldn’t cross due to the age gap (you being his sister’s age) and certain unspoken rules relating to siblings and friends:

1. Chigiri is only allowed to know surface level information about you

2. Chigiri was not allowed to befriend you on the same level as his sibling’s

3. If Chigiri wanted to gift you something, he’d have to do it through his sister

4. Chigiri was utterly positively definitely absolutely completely NOT ALLOWED to romance you in any way, shape or form.

He knew his sister wouldn’t have minded him getting chummy with you but he had a nagging feeling that it would still be awkward, the rules seemed extreme to outsiders however in his mind he knew that he needed to keep to these rules to avoid hostility, awkwardness or misunderstandings.

It was enough you were the center interest during Chigiri’s ‘girl-crazy’ phase, even as he grew out of it he found himself still thinking of nights where he thought of you in a romantic light.

Slowly Chigiri had forgotten about you during his time at Blue Lock’s institution, he focused on bettering himself in all aspects to achieve his dream, although deep down he couldn’t help but indulge in the nagging feeling that he wanted to see you again.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Life was going great after blue lock, with all his football achievements Chigiri barely had time to visit his family between tours although he made sure to stay in contact any way he could; letters, texting, sending gifts, long video calls.

As his career progressed Chigiri developed a certain talent for planning, the calendar app became one of his most frequented apps on his phone and he would sometimes write down potential dates he could use to go visit his family on any surface available be it a napkin, scrap paper and even the back of a receipt.

Finally all his rapid planning paid off, he managed to get two free weeks all to himself (one of those two weeks were labeled under ‘rest - doctor’s orders’).

An excited giddy feeling filled Chigiri’s chest as his taxi neared his home, the familiar scenery invoking a sense of nostalgia as the car slowed and arrived at his destination, his family’s house.

He bid the driver goodbye and paid his expenses, approaching the door he was a bit unsure of how to go about his return, should he knock on the door? Ring the doorbell? Was he allowed to barge in? He knew his mother kept a spare key under the mat. He settled for ringing the doorbell and he didn’t have to wait long until the door swung open, and his dear sister greeted him with a bone crushing hug.

“Hyoma!! Mom! Hyoma’s here!!” he could hear his mother yell out ‘Hyoma’s here?!’ and he returned the hug to the best of his abilities, patting her back with a strained hand.

“Good to see you too, sis...! could you let go...?” She let go and finally allowed him to breathe properly, frowning a bit she dragged him inside “we don’t see you for months and now you don’t want to hug your big sister anymore?” she teased, Chigiri rolled his eyes at his sister’s drama as he hugged his mother, she happily welcomed him home.

He noticed from the corner of his eye someone else was here, a figure in the kitchen.

“Hey (Name)! guess who decided to pay us a visit too!”

His heart throbbed in his chest, theres no way she meant…? No, its probably a different person with your name! you’re probably busy with your own responsibilities somewhere else

“Hyoma..? oh, welcome home! I wouldn’t have visited if I knew you were coming!” he saw you move out the kitchen and attempt to reach for your coat, his sister stopped you and led you over to him.

“oh hush, if anything it was probably fate! Hyoma, you remember (Name), right?”

For a moment, he forgot he was supposed to answer, he stuttered and tried mustering the smoothest answer he could “How could I forget? You and sis are always together!”

A flustered laugh escaped you and he had to mentally smack himself to focus and not turn into a smitten maiden, just as everyone else in the house gave him a ‘welcome home’ hug, he accepted yours (after his sister insisted that you two were well beyond a handshake.)

Chigiri was certain he would be fine if he saw you again now that he was older and more mature of his feelings, yet as he stood in his family’s home, in front of you, he felt like he was transported back in time turning into that shy teenager who wanted your attention more than anything else.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Guilt wracked Chigiri’s entire being, one moment he was showing you around his childhood bedroom when you made a casual comment about never seeing it, the moment he offered he wanted to throw himself out the nearest window in embarrassment.

Yet a small part of him was ecstatic he offered, otherwise his tongue wouldn’t be in your mouth right now as he muffled your noises caused by his wandering hands, Chigiri felt disgusted with his behavior; making out with his sister’s best friend as his family was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

Everytime you tried speaking through kisses, he would either smother your lips with another or he would cut you off by admitting how much he desired you, the perverted thoughts that plagued him once now resurfacing.

“Hyoma-“

“you’re so pretty like this, y’know?” his voice came out in a hushed whisper wanting no one but you to hear him, “I’ve always had feelings for you.” It felt so good to say it to you.

Your body responded to his advances, squirming or moaning into his kisses as quietly as you could, Chigiri slide his hand beneath your shirt sliding upwards until it reached your breasts, his fingers pinched at your nipples and prodded at the soft flesh squeezing as if trying to memorize the shape of your body in his hands.

“you’re driving me crazy.” He mumbled desperately after separating from a particularly wet kiss, a thin string of saliva connected your lips before splitting and disappearing “Can I fuck you? Please? I promise I’ll be quick..”

His question made you more flustered than you already were, you always knew Chigiri as your best friend’s shy and reserved brother, hearing him say such vulgarities felt foreign to your ears. Yet you found yourself hesitantly nodding “Okay.. but we have to be quiet..!”

Pinning you down to his bed he shoved your shirt above your chest to give him easy access, Chigiri rolled up your long skirt running his hands over the skin of your legs and thighs enjoying the way you shivered under his touch.

He knew you two needed to be quick so he couldn’t be bothered to remove your panties, only pulling them aside and giving a few testing strokes to your wet slit. He felt his cock throb as your arousal coated his fingers, he kissed you once more as you held back a moan.

“so wet, this is all for me, yeah?” he whispered harshly and chuckled as you tried catching your breath from his sudden boldness, hurriedly undoing his pants he couldn’t help but sigh in relief as he pulled his cock out of its confinement. Quickly positioning himself and pushing in he covered your mouth the moment he saw your lips part, he only let out a short hiss and bit down his bottom lip as to not groan loudly at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in.

The combination of his precum and your arousal allowed him to push in easily, he grunted as he bottomed out inside you, if only he this wasn’t such a risky place for him to fuck you he would have praised you for taking him so well.

Chigiri leaned down and kissed you deeply once more as he moved his hips back and forth in short quick thrusts, he set a goal to fuck you as good as he could with as minimal noise as possible, as much as he wanted to hear you scream his name he had to settle for the wet smacking his tongue would produce with yours as he kissed you deeply.

The idea made his cock jump in excitement, you moaning his name, not his family name, he only ever had the pleasure of you calling him by his first name if his sister was around as to not induce any confusion.

You always called out to him so innocently, always a simple lovely ‘Hyoma!’, what he wouldn’t give to hear you moan it like a desperate little slut.

He panted between kisses as he sped up his pace, feeling your heat hug him so deliciously, he could feel you tightening. Lowering his head to your breast he sucked harshly at one of your nipples producing a noise, he would have worried if he wasn’t lost in the pleasure of you running a hand through his hair and locking your legs around his waist, Chigiri could practically feel his brain short circuiting over how blissed out he felt fucking you.

As you tried recovering from the incoming oversensitivity, Chigiri nuzzled into your chest as he thrusted as deep as he could muffling his moans into your torso as he felt your pussy practically coax him into finishing inside, a shiver racked through him as he stilled his hips and grunted loudly feeling his cum fill you, warmth spreading deep inside you and he mentally cursed himself as he felt a few drops leak out.

“Hyoma.. you came lots..” he heard you whisper between pants, looking up at your flushed face he practically felt his heart shoot up to his throat, you looked so cute it was making him want to ditch dinner and give you a hotel keycard.

“Yeah… sorry..” and yet he didn’t move, he kept his cock nestled deep inside you even as he heard knocking at his closed door.

“Hyoma? (Name)? Dinner’s ready! What’re you two doing?”

“… just showing (Name) some of my old trading cards! We’ll be right there!” Chigiri quickly excused as he sat up, he had to hold back the smile on his face after seeing the look of embarrassment on yours.

With a groan, Chigiri’s sister left not wanting to hear more about the same cards her brother had been ranting to her about for years. Just as you sat up and made yourself decent, you felt him lean over you once more planting one last kiss on your lips.

“You called me ‘Hyoma’ that time..”

rule 4 of Chigiri's 'How to Interact With Your Sibling's Best Friend' manual™ was definitely broken.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk x female reader #blue lock x female reader #chigiri hyoma x you #chigiri hyoma x reader #hyoma chigiri x you #hyoma chigiri x reader

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goldenpinof · 5 months

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curious about your perspective – what do you think is the primary reason for the current comeback, and for the large scale of it (daily videos, new heavily marketed merch, etc)? are they trying to make up some monetary loss? is it true revitalized passion? the influence of the new management? lead-up to a major project/announcement? i'm guessing there's an element of at least the first three, but interested in your opinion as a noted non-cynical cynic (compliment btw)

under the cut because that's a lot. and it's not even all of my thoughts, unfortunately.

no one is gonna read it. but if you are, i'm sorry in advance.

ahaha. about merch. did you notice how they just continue to promote the calendar and the catboy sweater even though the initial release and promo had a deadline aka till December 1st? this is a fishy marketing right there. and i would love to know: why they did what they did (i'd assume they printed more calendars than people ordered by Dec 1st, but that's not our problem as customers. we shouldn't have been put into a framework in the 1st place if there was a chance for this shit to go south. this theory goes against the "pre-order" with a start of shipping in 2-3 weeks); why their managers allowed it (from a legal perspective); and why dnp didn't say anything. anyways.

i do think that Dan is trying to compensate for wad losses. and i know that he was "joking" about not making money or making negative money on tour. but i saw ticket sales a day before each show (only public information, not the inside official data from venues), it's still on my blog. and the sales didn't look good. so, how much of it was a joke? and compensating by making content that we and they enjoy isn't a bad thing, btw! i also think that he feels guilty for leaving us and the dnp brand behind for so long without actually giving us anything in return. thus so many comments on this 5-year hiatus and potential future ones. blame youtube originals, i know. not really his fault, but his choice of (the lack of) communication is his fault. and again, i always come back to wad. something fucking clicked in his head when he saw not as many people as he hoped for (or expected), how dedicated were some of those who still supported him during wad, and also he realised that without stronger managers he was not gonna make it solo. and he dragged Phil along because they do everything together and only then it works the best, and also dnpg's return in full force needed new energy for the amount of sponsorships they decided to do (i think, it's mainly Phil's pushing, because he is pro-sponsorships, they just need to be more careful with it on dnpg because Dan (hopefully) has principles when it comes to this. which is amazing. you go, girl!)

i'm very suspicious of dnp's new management right now. so idk. i think, again, most of it comes from Phil, because Phil thrives on their gaming channel, and that's basically the only easy way to survive on youtube and make money right now (for him). i'm glad dnp separated dnpg from their solo careers at least on the management and content levels. it gives Phil the room to use dnpg as a brand to pitch and fund his ideas/projects if it's ever needed. and now, after we survived the hiatus, they can pause dnpg for a couple of months to focus on their solo projects without losing the majority of the audience because technically we would know the reason and also we grew a thicker skin.

i do think that Dan is using dnpg to later help himself with a stand-up special or tour or some sort of series (danisnotokay). i also think he will use it to promote wad dvd (which is good. i will be disappointed if he doesn't use dnpg. like, bitch, why are we even here then? those who went through wad with him, i mean). i wonder if Inter Talent (i'm separating their name intentionally at his point because they piss me off) was smart enough to announce Dan and Phil's signings 2 weeks after UTA announced Dan to just make us pay attention to Dan's solo career again. as a hint of something coming our way. you know what i mean? i wonder if it was intentional. like UTA made a huge announcement, Dan retweeted it and posted it on instagram stories. it was a big deal. meanwhile, dnpg began thriving again and our eyes were on Dan anyway, so of course we noticed that solo career was on the maps again. Inter Talent was basically silent as another representative of Dan (and Phil), despite having them on the website for at least a month. and now 2 weeks after UTA's announcement (which was on November 22, 2023) Inter Talent was like, "hello? do you remember we signed Dan? and also Phil, and their joint channel?" Dan said wad dvd is almost cooked. wouldn't it be genius to stir our interest up step by step? (a part of me still thinks that Inter Talent's social media managers are just slow as fuck though. also they don't even care to check facts about their clients. UTA didn't fuck the announcement up like that, btw. and i doubt Inter Talent realises how nosy dnp's audience is, and that we are very likely gonna notice and spread even this stupid announcement. maybe they are dumb and it's me who is a fucking genius planning steps to present wad dvd to the masses, ugh. when will Dan pay me, like for real.)

i'm surprised you don't think it's heavily connected to new projects. i would bet my kidney it does. Dan will fuck off the moment he needs to focus on danisnotokay or someone offers to sponsor another tour (which, please, someone do. i need to see him for professional reasons). the question is, fuck off for how long and if it's gonna be communicated thoroughly or not. i'm not saying he will leave for 6 months without giving us something in return to balance things out. no, no, no. i don't think he would dare. but 3-4 weeks, maybe 2 months? sure.

is it true revitalized passion? well. *nervous laughter* i'm gonna defend Phil like i'm a phillie, even tho i'm not. he wanted it just as much as we did. so i believe it's a true revitalized passion at least on his part. i hope he fights for it if it's necessary, i hope he asks us for help if needed. i hope he threatens Dan with an actual divorce and forever home if needed. like, bitch, if there's a chance to keep dnpg alive without Dan actually losing his will to live, we should use that chance. Dan's stubbornness and delulus are not the reason to kill the most fun and profitable thing they ever created aka dnp brand. let it exist, even if alongside solo projects, even if it's 2-3 videos a month. damn, even 1 video (i don't mean during pauses made specifically for the peaks of solo projects). i do think Dan enjoys the attention, money, and possibilities their returned audience can give him. he also enjoys working with Phil. he certainly does not enjoy promoting their videos. and he is lucky he has Phil for that. is it a true passion for the gaming channel and joint branding solemnly? i genuinely don't think so. now, this dnp brand puts Dan into a framework, unfortunately. and i understand his desire to grow as a "strong independent Dan", and i wish him the best. i will root for him no matter how much of a floppy-ding-dong it can potentially be. i want him to fulfill his dreams and have a team that will fight for his interests. and i hope to god, UTA and Inter Talent are the ones. don't fucking tempt me with your unprofessionalism. but do i think Dan's head and heart belong to dnpg or dnp brand? no. i'm happy that he is at least trying. a part of me doesn't even care about the reason. i'm curious, but in hindsight, it wouldn't matter or change anything.

other thoughts, because apparently i decided to vomit on a keyboard tonight:

i'm glad dnp took back a bit of control over the editing on dnpg. i hope they will try to edit more themselves when gamingmas is over. or they will teach their editors better. because man, we need to slow down with these cuts.

i do think that dnp brand will expand, and dnpg and merch aren't the only things we should expect. (twitch, podcast or liveshows, onlyfans or its equivalent, vlogging series not limited by ditl, and other things that i forgot). reaction videos are already a thing and it's very funny because it's what youtube wants, so Dan must feel amazing right now falling for it :)) it's good thought because it's fun and torture for all parties involved.

i think by these reaction videos they are trying to rewrite their internet history a little bit for those who are new. it's not gonna work with us but at least dnp can control the narrative in new people's heads (i wonder for how long though).

with new people, the phandom will become more generic and dnp will love that. it can actually help Dan with new projects i think. Phil as well, but we don't know shit about it right now.

i wonder if Dan returns to working with charities.

if they involve more phannies, not only artists, it's gonna be interesting.

in case i'm wrong, don't step on my neck, i don't know anything for a fact. half of it is alleged, the other half is wishful thinking <3

#answered #wad #wad dvd #inter talent #uta #dan and phil #ahahah suffer yall #dnpgames #dan and phil's merch

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writingquestionsanswered · 7 months

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Any advice to write your own quotes that is not so common?

Learning to Write Memorable/Quotable Prose

As readers, we know there are few things better than reading a quote that hits in all the right ways...

"The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections." —Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me

“Brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared. It means you go on even though you’re scared.” —Angie Thomas, The Hate U Give

As writers, part of the dream is to be able to craft quotes that resonate with our readers like that... quotes that will be quoted... quotes that will be remembered.

Unfortunately, learning to write quotable prose isn't something you can do immediately just by following a few tips. It requires a few thing that take some time...

1 - A Fertile Mind - A big part of being able to write quotable prose is having a fertile mind... or in other words, giving your brain all the right elements it needs to be able to produce quotable prose. Here are some things you can do to encourage a fertile mind:

-- Filling Your Creative Well ensures that your brain is full of words, ideas, and imagery that will help you think up memorable quotes.

-- Improve your vocabulary by using a thesaurus (just make sure to cross-reference with a dictionary), subscribing to Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day e-mails, buying a "word of the day" desk calendar, using a reference like The Describer's Dictionary or the Random House Word Menu, and reading as much as you can--books, short stories, poetry, magazines, blog posts, song lyrics, anything you can get your hands on. Read through lists of vocabulary related to specific things, like geography, weather, architecture, travel, etc. Keep a journal of new words and their meanings as well as words that resonate with you.

-- Bring out your inner poet by reading poetry (there's a ton of poetry available for free online), reading song lyrics, and trying to write your own poetry.

-- Fill your mind with beautiful imagery by traveling... in person, if you can, but if you can't, YouTube makes it super easy to be an armchair traveler. There are countless beautiful videos of every place on Earth you could ever want to visit. There are travel documentaries, montages of beautiful scenery, walk-throughs, and tours. You can also go to a photo site like Pexels or Pixabay and type in random imagery terms like "mountains" or "starry night" and see what images come up. Save the ones that speak to you most in a pretty folder.

2 - Practice - Even with a full creative well and fertile mind, you're still not going to be able to instantly craft beautiful prose or memorable quotes. You still need to hone this skill through lots of practice. That's going to mean trying to craft beautiful prose and memorable quotes, which is going to mean writing a lot of not-so-great ones before they get better and better. Try looking at some of those pretty images you saved and see if you can write some pretty quotes about them. Look at the list of interesting vocabulary you saved and see if you can use any of it to craft a pretty quote. Take a pretty line of poetry or a evocative song lyric and try to craft it into a memorable quote. And more than anything else... just write your stories and always try to craft beautiful prose and memorable sentences. The more you try, the better you'll get.

3 - Have a story that merits pretty prose and memorable quotes - The truth of the matter is that even if you do everything listed above, you still won't be able to craft pretty prose and memorable quotes unless your story provides you the necessary raw materials. You need an engaging plot, compelling characters, interesting themes, quote-worthy imagery in plot elements and setting, and both characters and circumstances where memorable quotes make sense.

If you do all of these things, though, you'll be writing pretty prose and memorable quotes in no time! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

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classycookiexo · 5 months

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Definitely but if you look up her music history on Classic Rock History’s blog, she was literally dropping an album every year. On top of that she was constantly on tour, dropping photo books, calendars, merch as well as features for other projects. Mother was working her ass off.

I can only imagine how overworked and overwhelmed she might have been and or felt

#rihanna #avonlady

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venus-haze · 2 years

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The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter - Part 3 (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: The tension rises in the week leading up to your wedding to Elvis. Torn between your desire to live your own life again and your emotional obligations toward him, you make a decision that backfires horribly and only sends you further down the aisle.

Notes: Thank you all for your patience in my uploading this part and also for the overall support for this series. This is the last part of the series, and I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. I will be writing a prequel part, but I’d like to focus on the requests I’ve gotten recently. Please look at the warnings before reading. Do not interact with this post or my blog if you are under 18 or post ED/thinspo content.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: This is a yandere fic, so expect dark themes such as emotional blackmail, obsessive and manipulative behavior, and abuse of power, which some people may find disturbing or triggering. Emetophobia warning for one short part of the fic. Also brief mentions of blood toward the end. Again, do not interact if you are under 18.

Prequel | Part 1 | Part 2

The calendar on the wall seemed to be mocking you as each passing day was marked off with a giant black ‘X’, inching closer and closer to the wedding day. You hardly had time to think with all of the planning–floral arrangements and dresses and cake tastings. Your mind was barely treading water at that point, and you tried desperately to keep yourself from drowning in your imminent despair at what seemed to be your fate set in stone.

As you had expected, Graceland became a zoo not longer after you and Elvis arrived from Vegas. It was always like that, and you welcomed it. Graceland offered you undoubtedly more freedom, from walks on the property to being able to hang out with people other than Elvis without having to worry about him unnecessarily escalating the situation. Being home seemed to mellow out Elvis some, as you found yourself enjoying his company again. Still, you couldn’t shake his erratic and downright behavior from your mind. You couldn’t rely on being at Graceland all the time, not when Elvis was still being managed by the Colonel, who wanted him out making as much money as possible.

You felt a headache coming on as you sat in the living room, rubbing your eyes to hopefully get some relief. You’d been up since early that morning to squeeze in all of the wedding planning appointments. No matter how much time you had, you felt like you’d never be ready. Less than a week was hardly enough time to get everything together, but Elvis wanted at least a week for the honeymoon before he had to prepare for his upcoming tour, so you had no choice but to oblige.

The wedding was short notice for your family, and only your sister Kathy would be able to attend. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was deliberate on Elvis’ part, to keep you from anyone who would potentially see through the facade of the happy couple. It wasn’t like many other people were going to be there on your behalf anyway. You couldn’t remember the addresses of your LA friends and figured they had probably moved within the three years you had been gone anyway.

Shuffling into the bathroom, you grabbed aspirin from the medicine cabinet and took two. Leaning on the counter, you studied your reflection. The woman staring back at you seemed like a stranger before anything else. Tilting your head and moving your hand back and forth in front of the mirror, it certainly was you, but you hadn’t felt like yourself in weeks. You felt as though you couldn’t completely blame Elvis for that, perhaps you’d made it too easy to get to this point, allowing your work and personal lives to blend so seamlessly together for the past three years. After all, no one seemed surprised when you and Elvis started ‘dating’.

You were startled by a knock at the door and promised you’d be out in a minute. Quickly washing your hands and straightening out your appearance, you opened the door to see Elvis waiting for you.

“Hi, honey,” you said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concern. “You alright, darlin’?”

“Yeah, just a little tired, I’ve been busy the past few days.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’d say you’ll have plenty of time to rest during the honeymoon, but I can’t promise that,” he said with a grin, leaning over to kiss you softly. “I can’t wait to make you my wife.”

“Me too,” you answered, as if there were any other response you could give. “I have table settings to look at, but I’ll talk to you at dinner, okay?”

He gave you one more kiss before you walked into the dining room, at least a dozen table settings in your favorite color on display. It was your second to last wedding-related appointment for the day, and you chugged along, listening to whoever had come in explain the options to you before you picked which one you liked best. Elvis had left almost all of the planning to you, saying that he trusted your taste. Having some space from him during the day was nice, at least, even if it was to focus on your impending wedding.

The evenings, depending on how his day had gone, would set the tone for the rest of the night. Usually, there’d be a dozen or so people crammed into the dining room to eat, whoever happened to be over that day. You welcomed the buffer for Elvis’ moods, in all honesty. As the wedding grew closer, he acted more and more like himself, or what you thought was himself for all those years. You found yourself letting your guard down a bit, allowing yourself to enjoy the glimpses of the man you loved. Unfortunately, you knew it wouldn’t last, it was only a matter of time before something set him off.

Dinner that night had been fine, even when you informed him that you’d have to go into Memphis the next day to take care of some things before the wedding. He didn’t like you leaving Graceland much, but he didn’t put up much of a fight when you told him, he’d be sending one of his security guards with you anyway. He always claimed it was for your safety, but you knew it was so someone could keep an eye on you while he wasn’t around.

You could feel yourself becoming tired, the clock reading a little past ten, but you’d been up since seven that morning, almost constantly doing something since then. You excused yourself to go upstairs to bed. A few minutes after you got up there, you heard the door open, and felt a pair of arms wrap around your bare torso.

“I didn’t know all the plannin’ for the wedding would wear you out so much, baby,” Elvis said, kissing the crook of your neck. “You want me to go with you tomorrow?”

You considered how you were going to answer. You absolutely didn’t want him going to Memphis with you, it’d be impossible to get anything done with all of the chaos his being out would cause, even with his security detail. However, you knew if you answered ‘no’ too quickly, he’d think something was going on.

“I don’t want to bother you,” you said, placing your hands over his. “You’re so busy yourself, and you really need to rest before the tour. It’s two weeks straight of shows; I know that takes a toll on you.”

“Always lookin’ out for me, huh?”

“It’s what I do best.”

“I can think of a few other things,” he teased.

You let yourself laugh since the situation hadn’t escalated. Yet again, you wondered why he couldn’t be this way all the time. Gently, he turned you around, pressing his lips to yours. Caressing his cheek, you kissed him back, only pulling away when you could feel sleep creeping up on you.

“Sorry, honey,” you said, fighting back a yawn.

He smiled. “Go to bed, baby. I don’t wanna ruin your beauty sleep. I’ll join ya in a minute.”

You nodded, feeling like a zombie as you made your way over to the bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out until your alarm woke you up the next morning. You groaned, hitting the clock and throwing an arm over your eyes. Absolutely no part of you wanted to get up, but you forced yourself to. Elvis was still asleep, not starting his day until after you did. You’d always been concerned about his non-existent sleep schedule, especially how dependent his sleep was on whatever cocktail of medications that Dr. Nick prescribed him. It wasn’t healthy, the residency and back-to-back shows that gave him little room to actually rest. Part of you wondered if he was too far gone, that he wouldn’t accept the help if he were offered. You’d heard Priscilla talk about rehab once, but never heard anything else of it.

Looking at him as you got ready for the day, your chest filled with simultaneous affection and hurt. You loved him, and for that reason you knew you couldn’t marry him. Once your emotional obligation to him was legally binding, you wouldn’t be able to get out, you’d never be able to bring yourself to leave him. The guilt at the thought of making him go through a divorce yet again overwhelmed you. It’d destroyed him, was one of the major factors in his behavior toward you. Not to mention, you were terrified of the person he’d become after that, what poor girl would end up even worse off than you. You couldn’t think of anyone you’d wish that on, not even that bathroom showgirl.

You glanced at the clock, realizing you were going to be late for your first appointment if you didn’t get moving. You ran down the stairs to the front door, where someone from Elvis’ security detail was already waiting for you. Even though he drove you everywhere and was always waiting within a few feet of you, the freedom of being away from Graceland, from Elvis, was invigorating. You couldn’t give up on your own life so easily, just to satisfy him. Still, you were at a loss as to what you could do.

After the first appointment of the day, which was with a local hairdresser about doing your hair for the wedding, you went to yet another cake tasting and then to the florist. Half the day had gone by, and the security guard, who hadn’t said a word to you up until that point, asked if you wouldn’t mind if he stopped and got coffee somewhere. You agreed, hoping to have a few minutes to yourself.

He pulled up to a coffee shop that was up the street, and you got out of the car with him.

“I’m just going to stretch my legs, get some fresh air,” you explained.

He stared at you for a moment, as if he didn’t believe you, but nodded before going into the coffee shop. Your mind raced with what you could do with the few minutes you’d been given that were truly your own. Looking around, you recognized this part of Memphis. There was a Greyhound station nearby. You had a few hundred bucks in your purse, more than enough to get you somewhere far away and a motel for a few nights. The rational part of your brain was telling you to take the risk, to run as far as you could, but all you had gathered the courage to do was walk over to a nearby payphone. You knew it’d be best for you to go, but your mind was filled with thoughts of him begging you not to leave, how you were all he had left.

You felt like some paranoid gangster looking over your shoulder every few seconds and calling from an outside line, but you couldn’t risk someone overhearing the phone call if you made it back at Graceland. Even this small act felt like a major betrayal toward Elvis compared to your fleeting thoughts of running away. Your hands shook as you dialed the only person you knew would be willing to hear out your side of the story. When your sister answered the line, you could barely hear her from the blood that seemed to be rushing in your ears.

“Kathy, hey,” you said.

“Y/N! I’m actually just packing for the wedding,” she said cheerfully.

“I–I need to talk to you about that.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t wanna do it,” you said, feeling yourself getting choked up.

“It’s okay to be nervous before getting married. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who wasn’t.”

“No, not like that. It wasn’t my idea, and I don’t want to get married to him. He told me if I didn’t he’d–well, he didn’t exactly say it, but he went to get one of his guns and I got so scared I just agreed,” you explained, crying by the time you finished your sentence.

Kathy was silent on the other end of the line. You knew it was a lot to spring on her with no warning, but it wasn’t like you had many other options. It was too late to try to run now, you’d wasted too much time being afraid. This had to count for something.

“You still there?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice soft, “Christ, Y/N, I had no idea. Where are you calling from? Are you safe?”

“I’m calling from a payphone in Memphis. I didn’t want anyone eavesdropping, and I wouldn’t put it past him to bug the phones either. Someone’s always watching me over there, ya know? Even now he’s got someone with me.”

“Look, I’ll be there in a few days. I can’t come any sooner than then, but if you need anything, you call me, okay?”

The man walked out with his coffee, and you wiped your eyes as best as you could. “Yeah, thanks Kathy.”

“Sure, Y/N. See you in a few days,” she said.

You hung up, making your way back over. He thankfully didn’t question your call. There were still a handful of other stops you had to make in Memphis before returning to Graceland for the evening. You felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders with finally being able to tell someone what was really going on. Kathy probably wouldn’t be able to help you much, realistically, but maybe she could come up with something.

The rest of the day went smoothly, and you got back to Graceland feeling better than you had in a long time. It was odd, though, there were significantly less people around than on a usual night. You weren’t complaining, sometimes all the visitors could get overwhelming, especially when you had a long day but still felt the need to be a good hostess. It had been weird taking on that role when that had previously fallen on Priscilla.

Elvis had opened the front door by the time you walked up the steps to the mansion. He gave you a kiss, pulling you inside.

“Hey honey, how was your day?” you asked.

“It was fine, baby,” he said. “Runnin’ through Memphis today, huh?”

You nodded. “Felt like it. Is dinner ready?”

“In a few minutes,” he said, putting his arm around you and leading you into the dining room.

You noticed only two plates were set at the table. “Is everyone else going out?”

“Figured it’d be nice if dinner was just us for tonight,” he said. “I know how tired you’ve been lately.”

Your smile was strained as you looked up at him. “You’re so sweet, thank you.”

The two of you waited in the living room together for the food to be brought out. Being in Graceland while it was so devoid of people was chilling, as if you were in a haunted house. You couldn’t remember the place being this empty before, and the familiar uneasiness whenever you were around Elvis settled over you.

You hadn’t realized you zoned out until Elvis was waving his hand in front of you.

“Did you hear me, darlin’? Dinner’s ready.”

“Right, sorry,” you said, joining him in the dining room.

You sat adjacent to his seat at the head of the table. He liked you close by. You helped yourself to the food that was set out on the table, unnerved by the silence in the room besides the clinking of plates and utensils.

“Your sister called,” Elvis said nonchalantly.

“What’d she have to say?” you asked, your eyes fixed on your plate.

“Said you’d called her in hysterics, something about me threatenin’ to kill you to get you to marry me.”

You froze, trying to stay as visibly calm as you could. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“No? Well, that’s good. I got everything straightened out, let her know you were just stressed and hadn’t been gettin’ much sleep,” he said, before pointing his steak knife at you. “But if you ever run and tell someone else our personal goddamn business again, I’ll actually kill you.”

I wish you would.

He looked at you in disbelief. “What did you just say?”

“What?” you asked, before realizing you said the quiet part out loud. Your eyes widened. You had no idea how to respond.

“So you can leave me like everyone else, that it?”

You shook your head. “No, no, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

“I thought I got all that bullshit outta your head before we left Vegas, but we’re gettin’ married in less than a week, and you pull this?”

You could tell he was getting angrier with each passing second. Instead of responding, you ran. His voice seemed muffled as he shouted after you, and you found yourself in an empty guest room. It was the one you used to stay in when you’d go to Graceland, back when you were just Elvis’ assistant. Before all of this happened, before he decided he was in love with you–or something.

He was undoubtedly searching for you now, and you knew how the night was going to end. That much was inevitable from his mood as soon as you got home. As soon as he got the call from your sister, he was going to raise Cain. Numbness washed over you, muting any other emotion that threatened to bubble over. This was the rest of your life, whether you liked it or not.

When he found you a few minutes later, you hardly reacted when he came in, raging at you for making him think you had actually left. You let out the faintest laugh at that. If only he’d known how close you’d come to doing so before you made the mistake of calling your sister. You didn’t even know how you could face Kathy at the wedding in a few days’ time.

Again, you supposed some of the blame could be put on yourself. You squandered your opportunity to leave because you were afraid of hurting him, after everything he’d done to you. You didn’t want to admit to yourself how you loved him to the point of putting yourself in danger, and perhaps at this point you’d come to need him as much as he needed you.

“Please, Y/N,” he implored, reaching over to caress your cheek. “I love you.”

You let out a shaky sigh, “I love you too. I love you so much.”

“Then why’d you tell Kathy all of that?”

“You scare me sometimes.”

“Darlin’, I only get this way because I can’t lose you. You know that, I get jealous and protective of you. That don’t mean you have to make up lies.”

“Lies?”

“I proposed to you on that stage in front of all those people. You said yes. Where’d you get all that nonsense about me pullin’ a gun?”

“You told me to go up to your room before the show even happened. When I said I didn’t think marrying you would be a good idea, you lost it and went for your gun case.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

You sat up from the bed, pushing his hand away from you. “You’re not going to make me out to be the crazy one here.”

“Yeah? And who’s going to take your word over mine when your own sister won’t?” he asked. “I’m tryin’ to be gentle with you. I know you got real scared that night in Vegas, but it’s like nothin’s enough for you.”

“You’re enough for me! Just you, how you used to be, when you were nice and funny and my friend! That’s who I want to marry next week!”

“That’s who you are marryin’.”

“No,” you whispered. “No, you’re not him. You’re someone I don’t even know.”

“You really are crazy.”

“Yeah, for loving you anyway. I shouldn’t, but I do. Against every self-preservation instinct I have, I’m not going to leave because I love you too much, even when you’re jealous and irrational and scare me half to death, I love you.”

“That’s why I need you. No one else loves those parts of me.”

“I know.”

“Let’s just go to bed, baby. I’ll forget this whole thing if you do.”

It seemed like forgetting incidents like that was becoming the touchstone of your relationship. You couldn’t believe he tried to tell you he never went for his gun case that day, as if the fear you felt in that moment didn’t shake you to your very core and cause you to realize the man you were about to marry wasn’t the man you’d fallen in love with when you first became his assistant. You were tired of fighting, though. So you nodded in agreement, allowing him to lead the way to your shared bedroom and pretend for the next week that everything was fine.

You decided to cancel whatever wedding planning appointments were remaining. Whatever you’d chosen so far would suffice. You weren’t going to lose sleep over a wedding you didn’t even want anyway. Of course, the night leading up to the ceremony you couldn’t sleep.

Kathy had arrived at Graceland the night before, and as much as you wanted to give her the cold shoulder, it was nice having family around, and neither she nor Elvis mentioned the phone call you’d made prior to her arrival.

Early in the morning, you were overcome with nausea, and ran into a bathroom in the hallway, not wanting to wake Elvis up. In doing so, you woke up Kathy, who made her way into the bathroom with a glass of water for you.

“It’s just nerves,” she assured you. “Completely normal before getting married. You know I’ve heard it’s all over in a flash. That’s why you get all the photographers and stuff, the day is such a blur you don’t remember a thing.”

You hoped as much to be true. As little of the wedding as you could remember, the better. You were relegated to the top floor of Graceland leading up to the ceremony, since the main floor was being transformed for the following reception, which you knew would end up leaving that part of the house a mess, but it wouldn’t be your concern. As soon as the reception was over, you and Elvis would be headed to Hawaii for a hopefully uneventful honeymoon, but you held your breath at that.

Kathy was your maid of honor, you didn’t have anyone else in your wedding party. As far as you knew, Elvis’ best man was Jerry, and Vernon would be walking you down the aisle since your own father couldn’t make it. Elvis was insistent on not seeing you until the ceremony, whether for tradition’s sake or because he truly believed the superstition that seeing the bride in her dress before the ceremony would mean bad luck, you didn’t know.

Even going the whole morning without seeing him, his presence was looming. Everyone was there for Elvis Presley’s wedding, bride be damned. You didn’t mind, it was more for him, anyway. Certainly not the shotgun wedding you had originally expected, but as more guests arrived and the time for the ceremony grew nearer, you wished the two of you had just gotten it over with at a courthouse.

“Y/N, you gotta hurry up, the photographers want you outside for photos,” Kathy said through the bedroom door.

“I just need help with this one part of my dress,” you said. “It’s in the back, and I can’t reach it.”

“Y/N, you look beautiful. Here, let me help you with that,” she said when she entered the room.

“Any word from my future husband?”

“Not that I’ve heard. You ready?”

“No, but I guess I’ll never be,” you answered.

When you had gone to follow her outside to the photographers, you were taken aback by how much Graceland had transformed. It was a gorgeous house to begin with, but with the decorations you had picked out, it looked like a fairytale. You had to admit, as much as you pushed back on the swan ice sculpture when Elvis mentioned wanting one, it did look really nice.

You didn’t have much time to gawk before you were pulled in all sorts of directions by the photographers waiting outside. You weren’t sure why there couldn’t be just one, but apparently Elvis wanted as much of the event documented as possible. The bridal photos took an hour to do, and by the end of it you could feel yourself sweating and were ready for the whole thing to be over with.

Farther back on Graceland’s property, the ceremony had been set up, with rows of chairs out for everyone and a platform toward the front where Elvis was speaking to the minister, a preacher from a local church who the Presleys had known for years. Now confronted with the reality of the ceremony, any calm you had over the past few days had disappeared. At least with getting your hair and makeup done and putting the dress on, you could pretend it was dress up, distance yourself from what was actually going on. As you heard the faint ‘Here Comes the Bride’ melody playing, you began to hyperventilate.

Kathy began rubbing circles on your back. “Y/N, hey, just take deep breaths.”

“I can’t do this,” you said, pleading with Kathy. “Don’t make me do this.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“I told you I don’t want to. Why did you tell him?”

“Don’t try to ruin a good thing, Y/N. Do you know how many women would kill to be in your place?”

“Let them have it, then. I don’t want it,” you said.

“It’s your cue,” she said. “The ceremony will be over before you know it.”

She led you to the end of the aisle, a gorgeous carpet that had been laid out, with the flower petals you’d chosen strewn about. Kathy wiped away the mascara that had run down your face a bit, and gave you a hug before going to stand with the rest of the wedding party. You gave a tight-lipped smile to Vernon, who seemed to be somewhat sympathetic.

“Nerves got ya?” he asked.

“Something like that,” you answered.

He nodded to the woman behind the keyboard, who began playing ‘Here Comes the Bride’ again, and you had to fight the urge to pass out. As you walked down the aisle, tears fell from your eyes. You were sure everyone in attendance was making note of how happy you were on the special day. It did make your heart pang a little when you saw Elvis’ expression, how he could hardly hold back his own tears at the sight of you.

Vernon brought you up to Elvis, who took your trembling hand in his. Your chest felt tighter than ever as you turned to face the minister.

“You’re so beautiful,” Elvis whispered so only you could hear. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

You couldn’t answer, unable to trust yourself not to beg for him to call the whole thing off. You wouldn’t be like Priscilla, who was able to leave even after having Elvis’ child. No, this was it for you.

Your head was spinning by the time the minister got to the vows, and all you could manage was a soft-spoken, “I do,” when it was your turn. Till death do us part. He’d make sure of that much.

A whirlwind of emotions overtook you when the minister announced, “I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Elvis pulled you in for a heated kiss, to the cheers and applause from the guests in attendance and shuttering cameras of the photographers. It was too much like his ‘proposal’ to you, public and damning with approval from an unassuming audience. After the stunt with your sister, he probably figured he needed to make sure you were stuck with as many witnesses as possible to your willingness to marry him.

Before you could process that he had pulled away, he led you back down the aisle, everyone’s eyes on the two of you. The photographers began shepherding you and Elvis all over the place for wedding photos that you’d probably never be able to bring yourself to look at. Most of the guests were making their way over to the house for the reception, and about half an hour later, you and Elvis were too.

“I can’t believe you’re my wife,” he said with a bright smile, kissing your hand.

“Me either,” you said.

Satisfied with that answer, he kissed you again. The guests seated inside erupted in cheers and applause yet again when you and Elvis entered, and you two were ushered over to the head table. You hoped to god no one would ask you to make any sort of speech, what could you even say?

You and Elvis sat together, and when Jerry went to make his speech as best man, you nearly threw up when he referred to you two as “Mr. and Mrs. Presley.” That was it. The first day of the rest of your life. As your eyes landed on every person staring at you and your now husband, you thought about how complacent they all were, how they let it happen.

You were shocked when Elvis stood up to speak, to the delight of everyone present. “This wasn’t planned or nothin’, but I gotta say somethin’. Thank y’all for comin’ today. This is my second go at this, but I know it’s with the right woman this time. At my lowest, instead of runnin’ off like other people did, Y/N stood by me, because she really loves me, even when I’m actin’ foolish and ornery. That’s hard to find nowadays,” he said. “Y/N, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered.

He kissed you again, this time more quickly as someone else stood up to give a toast. “Elvis, Y/N, all my best. I can’t think of a better couple. When are you gonna get started on kids?”

You hadn’t realized how tightly you’d been gripping your glass until part of it shattered at the mention of kids, slicing into your hand. The sound of everyone’s laughter drowned out the glass breaking. Quickly, you hid it under the table, hoping no one noticed, only to hiss in pain when Elvis grabbed it. You looked at him in confusion, and he squeezed your wounded hand tighter, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“Think they know we beat ‘em to that one?”

“What?”

“You don’t think your glass has got any alcohol in it, do ya?”

You gasped. “Oh my god. How did you–”

“Know? You’ve been throwin’ up every mornin’ for the past two weeks. I know that ain’t nerves,” he said, before smirking a bit, “‘Sides, if I’m wrong, we got the whole honeymoon to work on it.”

You looked down at your hand and found that the blood was still flowing, staining your dress beyond salvation.

#elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #yandere!elvis x reader #yandere x reader #austin!elvis #elvis presley x reader #elvis 2022 #elvis #yandere elvis

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nordleuchten · 5 months

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24 Days of La Fayette - Day 1

This year’s calendar will be about portraits of La Fayette, thanks to the idea of @my-deer-friend!

The portrait (1) hangs in the Blair House, just across the White House and Lafayette Square. The Blair House is often referred to as the President’s Guesthouse and is the accommodation for former US presidents and foreign dignitaries. The portrait hangs in the entrance hall and is the first piece of art that a visitor sees.To quote the White House Historical Association (2):

The framed piece hangs in the Entrance Hall of Blair House and is the first work of art guests observe upon entering the house. This is a fitting location for his painting since Lafayette was the nation’s guest and Blair House serves as the President’s guesthouse for today’s visiting heads of state.

The portrait is part of the collection of the White House Historical Association. The photographer who made the photo that is used today, was Bruce M. White for the White House Historical Association/Blair House. He also included the photo in his book “At Home in the President’s Neighborhood: a Photographic Tour”. According to the digital Library of the White House Historical Association, both the date when the piece was painted, and the artist are unknown. It has been in the possession of the White House Historical Association and hangs in the Blaire House since at least 2016.

This piece is one of my personal favourites and some of long-term followers of this blog might remember that this portrait was for a very long time my profile picture – that’s why we start our calendar with the portrait that is today known as The Nation’s Guest. It is subtle, almost calming, and, at least from my point of view, quite a good representation of La Fayette. There is not much in terms of politics or symbolism going on as with many other of La Fayette portraits. He simply sits there and looks the viewer straight into the eyes. He is still young but without looking like a little boy - for me the portrait is simply the perfect combination of many different elements.

(1) https://library.whitehousehistory.org/fotoweb/archives/5017-Digital-Library/Main%20Index/Blair%20House/1113205.jpg.info (01/12/2023)

(2) https://www.whitehousehistory.org/photos/the-nations-guest-photo-1 (12/01/2023)

#24 days of la fayette #advent calender #my-deer-friend #marquis de lafayette #la fayette #french history #american history #history #art #white house historical association #blair house #bruce m white #the nation's guest

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rosemariecawkwell · 15 days

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Blog tour calendar: Reinventing Democracy by David Kauders

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#DavidKauders #ReinventingDemocracy #@PalamedesPR #@SparklingBooks #Blog tour calendar

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ficthots · 10 months

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Bonded: Chapter Two

A/N: Here is chapter two! I already had this posted on my AO3 as well, but since I decided to post these here on my blog, I'm uploading both at the same time. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Word Count: 4.2K+

Chapter One, Chapter Three

Despite being offered it, you didn’t take the spare day to adjust. Instead of sitting around your quarters all day, you figured you might as well just get started with what you knew was waiting for you anyhow.

One of the most annoying aspects of your duties was how spaced out all of your work areas were. Most of your work days were spent in travel to your next destination aboard the Supremacy. That is, when you were there in general.

Choosing quite quickly that no true progressive work was going to be done from afar, your work ended up taking you to many interesting, large scale planets. Meeting with these individuals only made you realize how little you wanted to return to the ever roaming ship.

Engaging in interesting and meaningful conversations was such a drastic difference to the mundane life you led on the Supremacy. The only interesting day had been the first one when your assistant, Kenzo, ran through your schedules and work responsibilities while touring you around the cold ship.

On that same day you had met what you could only describe as Supreme Leader Ren’s cabinet who called themselves his committee. His closest work confidants who had his ear and could very rarely sway his stances, tactics, missions. It was exceedingly rare when something like that happened, but it was not unheard of.

General Waylan explained how every so often, Kylo would call his entire committee to a singular meeting where everyone was expected to attend. No if’s, ands, or buts about it. You needed to be planted in that chair for the duration of the meeting and never speak unless directly spoken to.

Of course you were shown your seat assignment and were startled to learn you had been placed directly to the left of the head of the table where he normally sat or stood during the meeting. He also informed you it was also not a normal occurrence, but to realize you were always on call in this role.

If he needed you at any given moment in time, you needed to be there at the drop of a hat.

At first, the proposition frightened you. Having to be on guard in such a way, but as time dragged on and your appearances aboard the Supremacy were few and far between, your eyes never landed on his towering figure around the ship.

Given it had been two months since your arrival and you had only crossed paths with him twice and both of those instances he did not spare a glance in your direction, your worries melted away about him calling on you.

It’s also how your scheduled travel day coincided with a committee meeting.

You had been gone for nearly a week at the time. Thoughts not even trailing off to the ship once. Your assistant was traveling with you which was not a normality, but given how jammed your schedule was, you were going to need extra help keeping things in order.

How you both missed that on your calendar you still have no idea.

Docking your personal transport in the hanger, you offered a tired smile to Kenzo. “Thank you for being so great on this trip. We’ll reconvene in my personal office tomorrow. I’ll let you know the time in the morning once I recoup.”

Bowing towards you, he smiled widely. “Thank you, Empress. Enjoy your evening and I am just a signal away if you require me.” Chuckling, you and Tamsyn began your long trek to your quarters. “Not likely. Have a good night, Kenzo!”

As you two slowly made your way down the endless halls and the million doors, you two mindlessly chatted about the success of your travels. It had been a small journey, only two destinations, but extensive stays on both lands.

It was all you were doing currently. Biting off what you could chew, trying to get your footing just right before fully diving in. Your feet ached from the heightened shoes you had worn all day, opting to stop and remove them, not caring how improper you looked walking barefooted through the ship.

Honestly, it didn’t matter, no one was ever in this sector of the ship besides your people anyhow. With your shoes clutched in one hand, you punched in your code to access your residence. Nearly falling over at the sight before you.

There stood the Supreme Leader, facing the doors. Waiting for you.

Gloves removed from your hands, you quickly handed them and your shoes to Tamsyn. She took them and hurried off down the hall. “Supreme Leader Ren-” you were cut off by him raising his own gloved hand in your direction.

“There was an empty seat at my committee meeting.” His modulated voice had your blood turning to ice in your veins. Mouth going dry, you blinked rapidly as you tried to come to terms with the error you had made.

“My apologies. I had an off ship meeting,” again, he stopped you. “Your frivolous activities are of no interest to me, but” it was your turn. Shaking your head, you stepped towards him. “Frivolous? My work today was not frivolous I assure you.”

His booming voice seemed to echo off the walls. “Your disregard for your responsibilities that actually matter placed me in a disconcerted position! Your duties are of little importance or interest to me. I only ask to know during these meetings which you missed today. Your first one. I know Waylan informed you of your responsibilities of being present and you failed.”

Mouth hung ajar, you were in shock. “Sir, I-” he stalked towards you, causing your neck to crane to look at him. Instantly, your fear left and was replaced by hostility towards him. “I will not remind you of this again. Your excuses are worthless to me. Do not miss another meeting or there will be serious consequences.”

With that, he brushed past you and the doors shut behind him as he left. The draft of wind kicked up by his billowing cape hit you the second the doors closed, you shuttered in response, grateful he had not been there to see that.

A mind splitting headache had rammed into you the moment he stepped towards you before departing, but somehow the moment he was gone it had disappeared, only a dull pain left in its wake.

Tamsyn bursted out of the room as she heard him leave, watching you crumple onto your sofa. “Are you alright? My stars he is frightening. How is he so large?” Eyes shut, you only briefly shook your head.

“I’m fine. Please send word to Kenzo and inform him to clear a section of my day tomorrow for a meeting with the Supreme Leader.” Her brow furrowed, but did as requested. “Did he state your need for a meeting tomorrow?”

Standing and walking towards your chambers, you spoke as you removed your own shortened winter cape. “No, but I know I will be called on tomorrow.”

You were correct. First thing the following morning you had received word from him that you were to be in the conference room immediately for briefing. With Kenzo hot on your trail, you switched him materials, handing over the data pad and opting for your hand written notes instead, you thanked him before entering the conference room.

Sitting in your assigned seat, this was the second time you had been in here at all, the first by yourself. It had an uneasy feeling sitting heavy in the bottom of your stomach. Eerily silent due to the sound adjustments made to the high security room, you could only hear the blood rushing in the shell of your ear as you sat and waited.

To the right of your seat was a large one-way window. Overlooking the vast nothingness that sat out there, a mere dusting of stars plastered against the sullen landscape. Occasionally, a fleet of ships would zoom by, not an ounce of their loud engines being heard from your side of the wall.

Having gotten there a few minutes early to mentally prepare yourself for the uncomfortable meeting that was about to occur did nothing to ease the nerves in you. As the blaster doors opened and the behemoth of a man filled up the opening, drenching all possible light flowing in complete darkness, you swallowed thickly.

Standing, you bowed to him. “Supreme Leader Ren, thank you for allowing me to brief you today. Again, I apologize for missing yesterday. It won’t happen again.” He breezed past the large table, back to you, looking out of the picturesque window.

“Begin.” Sitting back down, you looked at the first bullet point on your short list. After all, you hadn’t been here very long to have done an extensive amount that was worth reporting to him. “Okay, first, I would like to inform you that possible relations with Abelor are in progress and-” his robotic voice cut you off.

“Is your job so complex that you need notes to remind you what to say?” Your eyes bounced up from the page, taking in the back of his figure. Having not moved an inch from when he originally walked in, you weren’t expecting him to speak at all. “Sir?”

Your quizzical tone only set him off. Quickly, he moved to stand behind you. He had spun on his heel, grabbing your book that sat atop the table, sliding it onto the floor by the doors. Watching it shoot across the room, your gaze instantly went back to his, nostrils flaring in anger at his action. Neck strained to be able to look at him from your seated position.

With him now leaning on the table, chest nearly brushing your right shoulder, your nerves were gone, now fury sat in its place. “Again.” He spoke, the mask so close to you the vibrations from it reverberated against your ear drum.

Going off your memory as best as you could, it was quickly finished. As you went silent, his body once again by the window, he spoke up. “Anything else?” Shaking your head even though he could not see you, you crossed your arms over your chest. “No.”

Watching as he moved towards the blaster doors you spoke, gathering his attention to you and causing him to stiffen. “My notes, please.” Now standing, your chair pushed out behind you, your face was a mask. Not an inkling of emotion portrayed on it.

Head snapping in your direction, you could hear his condescending tone seep into his response. “What?” Not relenting, your head dipped to where he was standing over them. “You threw my notes on the floor. Hand them to me, please.”

It was a silent standoff. Seeing who was going to make the first move. How you managed to maintain your composure as another headache pummeled you, you had no idea, but you did. Offering a sincere smile as he knelt down and picked up the book.

Setting it on the table, his visor still faced you. “Thank you, Supreme Leader Ren.” His fists balled at his sides as you watched as the pages began floating in the air. Eyes widening at this display, his lightsaber ignited, slicing through the material like butter. Jaw falling open, your shocked features morphed into confusion.

“How?” You had heard of the force or whatever it was called briefly before in one of your university classes. However, you had never seen it in action before. Of course you knew that there was much more that could be done with it, things more horrible you had heard described, but instead of instilling fear in you, it sparked curiosity.“Do not give your Supreme Leader orders again.”

Snapping back to the moment, he left, but you went after the charred remains, observing the marking from it being cut. Knowing that most individuals would have been left terrified by the encounter, you felt as though their worries were quite silly in nature. Of course, him murdering you was out of the question given your ranking, but you knew there was no real reason to fear him.

At least, not to you.

Most of your time spent on the Supremacy was full of meetings and arrangements with varying sectors of officials on the ship. Yet, General Waylan was the only person to make an effort to engage with you outside of work matters.

In fact, whenever time allotted, you found yourself dining with him in your residence. Waylan was the first to suggest sitting down for a meal together, claiming to want to hear your story. The rest was history.

You two were eating a fine meal prepared by your chef, sipping on a bubbly cocktail that you had discovered on one of your recent trips, actually laughing and enjoying the company of another person. A friend, you considered him.

“General, may I ask your opinion on something?” You set your utensils down on the fine dinnerware, hands resting on the wooden table. Wiping the corners of his mouth with his cloth, he nodded. “Of course, Empress. What is on your mind?”

Tongue poking your cheek, excitement sparked in your core at the thought. “I don’t believe the Order is doing enough to spread our message across the galaxy. Of course, with my constant travels I am trying my best; however, I can only visit one or two planets per trip. It’s not truly cohesive to our plans. Simply put, I do not think I am reaching our full potential here.”

His brow was furrowed in thought, listening to your words. “What do you suggest we do then?” A smile took over your face, lighting up your features. “An event. Send invitations to a slew of officials, royals, across the galaxy. An open house of sorts where they can come to us and we can reach a much larger group than my individual travels allot. Select a place where we can go and host, gain new alliances. I believe it could be a massive success if executed properly.”

As your words continued, your ideas laid out, his smile grew by the minute. “Empress, I think it is a lovely idea. I believe the committee would agree as well.” Eyes slightly narrowing, you spoke before thinking. “And Kylo?” You never called him by his first name, far too casual for your liking. Only ever referring to him in that way in the privacy of your residence, careful of who was around.

Typically, only Waylan heard you refer to him in such a way. A small sigh escaped his closed mouth. “I do not think he would mind. If you handle all of the arrangements, I see no reason why he would take issue with this.” Lips pursing, you broke into a smile.

Standing from your seat, Waylan grinned at you. “Well then, it is official. The Order will be putting on an event for the galaxy to attend!” The general rose with you, letting you walk him to your door.

“I cannot wait. Good evening, Empress.” His bow to you always felt off. Knowing it was a formality and must be done, given he was viewed in your eyes as a friend, it was always an awkward moment for you when he did such things.

Bidding him goodnight, you called on Tamsyn to meet you in your personal office. There was much planning to do.

You hadn’t left the ship for two weeks. A record for you since your original arrival. All travel halted until after the event. Hardly departing from your personal office, most of your meetings were held there, if not all of them.

Between food choices, decorations, selecting proper invitations, carefully selecting what to say on the invitations, there was much to be done and those were just the first items on the ever growing list. After getting a list from Kenzo of which Order officials and generals were going to be in attendance, you noticed one name missing from the list.

“Kenzo?” You called out as your eyes scoured the page. “Yes, Empress?” Looking up from the names, you saw him with his data pad in hand, ready to do whatever task thrust upon him. “I need you to request a meeting with the Supreme Leader. Preferably at his earliest convenience.”

He and Tamsyn exchanged a look, but as he looked at the pad in his hand, you could see confusion etched on his face. “Is there a problem?” You questioned, to which he attempted to figure out how to respond.

“Uh, Empress, I don’t, I mean I’ve never,” growing short tempered with him, your head cocked. “You’ve never what, Kenzo?” He adjusted his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. “It is not protocol to request the presence of the Supreme Leader for a meeting. We are not taught how to do this and frankly, I am not sure there is a way to do this.”

Extending your hand towards him, requesting he hand the pad to you, you spoke. “Nonsense. I will do it myself. Actually, Tam, please retrieve my personal data pad from my chambers. I will do it on there.”

After searching through every possibility on your data pad, you realized that there truly was no means of contacting him. Leaving it to chance that you would happen upon him in the halls, or Kenzo. Sending Kenzo out to scour the ship for him and request a meeting, he left fearful of the task you had given him.

Knowing Kylo could not harm your assistant put you at ease. Technically he could do whatever he wanted, but everyone, including the Supreme Leader himself, knew it would be a poor choice. In the months aboard the Supremacy, your reputation had started seeping into the deep crevices of the ship.

You were not to be crossed. Not in fear of physical retaliation unlike your spouse, people were worried about the verbal and mental responses you were known to give. Instead of threatening their lives or severe punishments that could permanently harm them, you opted for intellectual warfare.

Having done so on more than one occasion where someone had crossed you, it was now known to all aboard the Supremacy to simply not test you in such a way. Being able to destroy their livelihoods in one single conversation was a different type of fear that was instilled to those onboard.

Putting it simply, you did not stand for abuse of your personal company and those whom you worked closely with and had grown respective of. Sure, that was only a handful of people that you didn't even need all ten appendages for, but it did happen.

But you shut it down right away, possibly damaging them in the wake of your words, but it was a lesson you were not afraid to teach. Not those who were deserving of such a lesson. Even the Supreme Leader had heard rumors from his Knights of how sharp of a tongue you had.

That’s why when Kenzo bursted into your office door as you calculated the expenses for the event, he was pinkening and out of breath, quickly adjusting his skewed glasses. “Em-empress. He's coming, on his way, now.” You were the complete opposite of your employees who all scurried out of the room upon hearing the blaster doors open.

Calm and collected, he entered your private office and stood in front of your large desk. Standing, you dug through a pile of papers to your left. “Thank you for accepting my meeting. I do not plan to take up much of your time. As you have heard the Order is putting on an open house to showcase the new goals and wishes of the Order’s mission as well as your own to explain why it is important for them to join the cause.”

He hadn’t moved, clothing still, not a miniscule breeze billowing against him. Taking his silence as encouragement to continue, you did. “Supreme Leader, it would be wonderful publicity and a great help if you were to be in attendance.” Eyes finally looking up to see him still unwavering, he only gave a single word response.

“No.” Shaking your head, your hands rested on the top of the desk as you leaned inwards. “Sir, I don’t think you understand what this could do-” cutting you off mid explanation, he spoke through gritted teeth. Even through the modulator you could suspect his irritated tone.

“I do not understand?” Sighing, you attempted to backtrack. “I apologize, that was the wrong terminology. What I meant to say was-” again, he stopped you. “I will not be in attendance at this or any of your ridiculous events. Do not ask again and do not request to speak with me unless it is in regards to a serious matter.”

As he turned to leave, you finally bursted. “Why am I even here then? If you refuse to be seen in the public eye with me, your wife whom you married for this exact reason, why am I here? What is my purpose?” Your raised voice was startling to those in the hall listening in. No one raised their voices at him and Tamsyn grabbed onto Layana’s arm as fear wracked her.

“That is your purpose!” His shouting tone did not startle you, expecting such a response. “To handle these things so I can do what actually matters, which is not attending these showcases the others want to hold!” Stepping towards the desk, you did not flinch or rescind as he leaned towards your face.

So close in proximity, the cool metal of the mask you could almost feel on your own skin. “The only reason you are my wife is to do this job. Nothing else. Do not bother me again.” The emphasis put on your terminology, wife, had a chill running down your spine. He was clearly seething, shaking in pure rage at your talking back, the migraine that hit you was almost entirely ignored.

He stormed out of the room and then your residence, but outside of the doors you could hear him decimating your entryway to your home. Regaining your composure, your head fell, eyes shutting, before rolling your neck to release the tension sitting in your shoulders.

“Tamsyn?” Your voice called out to the deadly silent hallway where you knew your people were hidden. She appeared quickly, eyes wide with fear. “Yes, Empress?” Sitting back down in your chair, you rubbed the bridge of your nose, fighting the pain sitting right at the front of your forehead.

Never before in your life had you experienced such head pains and they had only begun once you were in contact with Ren and his people. Beyond annoying that he caused such disruption in your life to the point of grueling headaches that typically left you bed ridden for the remainder of the day.

Today was an exception, knowing you had far too much to complete and in far too little time. Kenzo sneaked in as Tamsyn waited for your orders, setting a large box on your desk. The top opened, you saw the invitations sitting there.

“Please get me a cup of tea and Kenzo please bring me the correspondence list. We need to get these sent immediately.” Both responded with a yes, Empress they hurried out of your office to complete the tasks assigned to them.

Sitting in blanketed silence, you turned and looked out the massive window to your right. Many cruisers, ships, transports, anything you could think of went by in flashes of light across the dark background. Thinking of the term used to address you by everyone, you thought of the stupidity of it.

Empress.

A title that meant positively nothing. Held no true meaning. Not until Kylo would designate it to the Order. The same man who was your legally wedded husband. A man who refused to share the same air as you. Assigning you a job that he saw no importance to. Simply doing so to get you out of his hair. Doing this to keep you occupied.

But you knew that your job held importance. Even if he refused to admit it, you knew and so did the committee. Having studied this in university and watching it be applied on Bar’leth, you knew what kind of an impact you could make.

Putting the Order out into the galaxy to share the mission and convincing others to join the cause. Diplomatic relationships, possible trade opportunities, it was an endless chance. As your eyes scanned the correspondence list delivered by Kenzo, you made notes.

Some already a part of the cause who could talk to others and move them from neutrality or opposition. Others that had been in neutral territory for their entire histories, quite like your home planet. If you could speak to them, you knew you would be able to sway their viewpoints. The true challenge was getting the opposing forces to listen.

As you sipped your tea, you made a decision right then. If Kylo wanted to treat you like a bored child who needed her days filled to keep her busy and away from him then so be it. He wouldn’t listen to you or anything you had to say.

By taking your duties in stride and performing the best you could, your name was going to be spreading across the galaxy like wildfire. Build up your reputation, become known not only in the Order, but everywhere you could go. So what did that mean?

You were going to make him listen.

#ficthots #kylo ren #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo x y/n #kylo x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine

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