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Ridlington Park | I | Eddie Munson regency!au

Author's Note: It has been a long, long time, but I am back with another obnoxious AU. I hope you enjoy as we embark on this new adventure in Regency England. This story has been in the works for almost 2 years and is still far from finished, but I am having too much fun with this and have way too many ideas on where to take it, so suggestions are very much appreciated.

Word Count: 10k

Do be warned, Dear Reader, for this story in its entirety may contain:

female!reader. slow burn. forbidden romance. jealousy. pining. smut. alcohol consumption. swearing. OC family. horses. talks of arranged marriage. historical facts as well as trivial inaccuracies.

Due to the adult nature of the story, this author also kindly but sternly requires underage readers to pursue other works.

Author's Previous Works | Correspondence | Join the Taglist

Chapter One: A Game of Perseverance

“I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them.”

– Jane Austen, Letter to her sister Cassandra, 1798

Three stories high, full of balconied windows, the house stood tall and overlooked the entire street. Ridlington Park, they called it, and situated at the centre of life–that is, London–the front door of the building was enveloped in flowers matching the seasons all year long. Currently, it was bright peonies that caught the onlooker’s eye. The perfectly trimmed bushes and trees were planted symmetrically, leading up to the front doors, giving visitors the right impression of what they could await once they stepped inside.

The residing family had spent a good fortune and effort ensuring the house represented them perfectly: clean, fortunate, and grand, but all done so in the utmost respectable and modest fashion as they were never the ones to boast. The walls had a light, warm tone reminiscent of early mornings in Spring, and the interior was decorated with portraits, new and old, beautiful oil sceneries of lands near and far, and busts and vases.

The evening was slowly approaching, the sun setting over the windows of the drawing room, enwrapping everything in a golden glow. The family sat silently around the room, giving each other the peace and quiet required for an uneventful afternoon followed by a slow night of fortunate sleep. The only sound appreciated was the pianoforte siding against the window, gracefully played by Mother. Four children sat around the separate corners of their world, enjoying the music while focusing on their own activities. Like most nights, these consisted of either reading or needlework, engaging in small conversations with one another occasionally.

As typical as any evening at Ridlington Park, it was highly unusual for the rest of London– a city which runs on scandals and gossip. Outside, the streets were bustling with lords and ladies of the Ton making their way back home from the markets, gardens and their fellows’ tea parties, gossiping about the latest impropriety to have occurred. After all, such topics, no more than nonsense really, were simply inescapable. And no matter how hard they tried to ignore it all, one way or another, it would always find its way up to the Byrnwick family. Most of the time, you, Gentle Reader, could hold yourself accountable for introducing the rumours proudly, much to your brother’s annoyance, who did his best to turn the pages of his novel as loud as possible as you talked with your mother from across the room.

‘Have you heard what happened at Lady Faulkner’s ball?’

‘Yes, sordid, really.’ Your mother sighed, turning around. ‘I am sure her family is in quite the uproar.’

‘Please,’ Christopher, your brother, shut his book down in frustration, clearly incapable of making any progress amidst the conversation. ‘If she had not wanted to get caught, she should have maybe ought to think twice about being out with a man in the middle of the gardens for everyone to see.’

You glared up at him. ‘Well, it is absurd that a woman cannot even stand in a public space with a man without bringing disgrace onto her entire family.’

‘Believe me; she did much more than just standing.’ Christopher scoffed, quickly receiving a cold stare from your mother.

‘Still, it is unjust.’ You ignored his insinuations. ‘Think of how men are free to go out at any time of day or night with whomever they please.’ You stabbed your needle through the cloth a bit harsher than intended.

‘My, you sure seem to be giving all this much thought. Have you any plans we should know about, sister?’ Your brother smirked.

‘Christopher!’ Your mother scowled. ‘That is quite enough.’

‘I was only joking, Mother,’ Christopher sighed, ‘we all know she is not going anywhere anytime soon.’

You were ready to retort angrily, or at least throw your needle at him, when the doors to the drawing room opened, catching everyone’s attention by storm. Five pairs of identical eyes directly aimed at the door frame, only softening when recognising the intruders. A welcoming of surprised gasps greeted the Lord and his eldest, Nicholas, as they entered the room. Not one foot in the room, and all activities were being put to a halt as the rest of the family gathered around the men—a loving reunion after a months-long journey from the Americas.

It was a surprising return, for father and son had yet to write of their plans in recent times. The last letter was received at Ridlington Park over three weeks ago, stating that the weather was amiable, if not a bit too humid, and that the family missed each other deeply. The lack of correspondence, therefore, was also an immediate subject.

‘But why did you not write, dear?’ asked Mother, after embracing her son. Nicholas was too occupied by his youngest sibling to answer; airways tightened in the arms of his 11-year-old sister, Marjorie. His father responded instead:

‘How could we write at sea, my love? The message would not have gotten here any faster than we did,’ the lord chuckled to his wife. He was correct, too, of course. His eyes seemed to surpass the gaze of his present family members in search of the one missing piece. ‘Where is Annabelle? I thought she would be home by now.’

‘She is home, with her husband,’ you explained carefully. Your father blinked slowly, coming to terms with this fact he had tried to avoid for so long. Annabelle had married last season and was very well off, to a Duke, no less, but it was still a big adjustment for the family seeing her gone and out of the house. Even with her frequent visits, it was strange to have one head less at the dinner table; one less chair occupied each evening, one less song played on the pianoforte.

‘Ah, well then,’ Father cleared his throat, ‘then we are complete.’ He looked at his wife and five children. One day, there would be even fewer of them. They will all be leaving the nest one by one. For some, marriage was long overdue, and as a man of high society, he could not wish his children a suitor or a lady soon enough, but as a father, he dreaded the day that the following proposals would take place.

Marjorie, becoming impatient and not as sentimental about her family’s reunion, tugged at Nicholas’ sleeve. ‘Come, you must tell us everything about your journey!’ She kept pulling until the eldest brother had no choice but to follow her and sit on the couch. Soon, everyone else joined on the chaises.

‘I am afraid there is very little to tell,’ Nicholas said, taking a chocolate biscuit off the tray beside the sofa. ‘It was all rather dull.’

‘Do not be ridiculous, brother,’ Fitzwilliam, the second-youngest and still hungry for adventure and the world outside of the Ton, looked at his older brother with high expectations. ‘I do not believe you and Father had been gone this long and did not experience anything worthy of a tale.’

You listened on as your siblings bickered, arguing over the value of a story, and its worth of being told and heard. Finally, after listening to it for about a quarter of an hour, you had to agree with Nicholas; it was all rather dull. No wonder neither he nor father did not bother to mention anything but the weather in their correspondence. Their days quickly grew into a pattern one is used to in travel and business. A pattern you might have understood if you cared to pay attention.

This attention only returned to the room when you heard your name being spoken. The conversation had shifted from the events that had been missed overseas to the town's happenings. Just as dull and irrelevant, some might say, the most interesting thus far was the staff changes at the house, and even these held very little consequence to you, but to this, some may disagree wholeheartedly.

‘So, the season has begun, has it not, sister?’ Nicholas asked.

‘Some weeks ago, yes.’ You did your best pretending not to feel an effect from this, occupying yourself with your needlework that was turning out far below the usual standard. ‘But do not worry; you have not missed much. In fact, I think things will finally begin to get a bit interesting with you back home.’ Nicholas had always had a taste for dramatics and had been known for having a very… loving nature. In the past years, you must have witnessed him falling in love at least a dozen times, preparing a proposal to half of these women, going through with it twice now, with one nearly making it to the alter if not for the bride getting caught in quite a compromising position with a footman.

For the next few weeks, Nicholas was known as the heartbroken gentleman, and you would have felt bad for him… if it was not for the fact that women from all over town came around to console him, day after day, of course not knowing that when his bride-to-be had been making arrangements with other men, your brother had been too busy charming ladies himself. It took a month for him to proclaim his love to another woman again.

‘I do not know what you mean,’ Nicholas deflected your comment, quickly looking over to your mother and second oldest brother, Christopher, ‘any fitting suitors I should be aware of?’ As the eldest brother, Nicholas made it his duty to ensure his sisters found good husbands. That meant status and wealth but, above anything else, a good and genteel nature. You remembered how picky he was when Annabelle had been searching for a husband, even more so than your parents. Still, it was something you appreciated about your brother. His protectiveness showed the little heart he still held for you and the rest of your family, as much as he tried to hide it away.

Your mother bit her cheek, holding in the many thoughts and opinions she must have kept for herself. So did Christopher, who shared a very knowledgeable look of many words with Nicholas, one he understood clearly but you could not decipher just yet. However, you assumed the general message had been sent and received.

‘If you had seen the choices, brother, you would understand my predicament and situation all too well, believe me.’ Pretending to seem unbothered by the encrypted messages being sent around the room, you preoccupied yourself once more with the needlework.

‘I believe it is what you believe, sister,’ Nicholas turned back to your mother, ‘do you have a list of names? I shall go through them in the morning, see if it really is as bad as we are being told.’

You had wanted to reply, most likely in a dishonourable way, but you held your tongue and fell back in your seat, letting the rest of your family plan out the rest of your life, just like they had always done.

Unbelievable, Nicholas was home for all of five minutes, and he was already making lists. And knowing him, which you would like to think you did, it was merely a formality for your sake. He would already have a dozen names at the top of his head, ready to send out invitations to men for an audience with you.

Therefore, you were not surprised when, only a few days later, at the breakfast table, Nicholas told you about all the guests Ridlngton Park would soon be welcoming.

‘There is Mr Elton, and Mr Brookes will be coming over for tea; I also heard Lord Frankworth is interested in a visit, so is Mr Campbell, and—’ he kept on giving you names, with all of them entering one ear and immediately leaving through your other. You could not care less who wanted to see you, not after spending the last month trying your hardest to escape all of their attempts at promenading, lunching, and chatting of sheer nonsense.

‘I must ask you to be ready for your first audience before 10; a dress is already prepared in your room.’ Of course, there was a dress. All you could do was smile as you bit into a forkful of egg.

‘Oh, and there is one gentleman I would particularly like you to meet,’ your father chimed in, almost as if with an afterthought that he recollected at the last minute. You looked up at him apprehensively. ‘I had made a nice acquaintance of his father on our travel. What was his name– Harrolds, no…’ ‘Harrington, father. It was Mr Harrington.’ Nicholas corrected before looking over to you as he shared more. ‘He is a tradesman, quite successful. His only son had joined us on the ship back to England.’ The emphasis on his lineage was made with an apparent inclination. There were no more heirs, meaning the son would inherit the man’s entire wealth. ‘Certainly seems like a reasonable young man, clever too. The two of you will have lots to speak of.’

Well, I certainly cannot wait to meet him,’ you forced out a smile before quickly getting on with your meal despite losing all your appetite. At that moment, your stomach felt like a hollow pit, eating away at you, ironically.

‘You know, if you gave this all a chance, you might find yourself to actually enjoy it in the end,’ your mother commented with a tight lip.

‘I am sure I shall enjoy it then, as it means that it has all, in fact, ended.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I simply do not understand why this is a must in my life? Why must I marry this instant?’

‘Do not worry, dear. You are still young; you still have plenty of time, ' your father said, missing your point entirely and making you roll your eyes. ‘But your mother is right, too, a more agreeable attitude towards this will make things much easier.’

‘For whom, exactly? Is it for me to enjoy myself, or for everyone else as you will not have to endure me any longer?’

‘Can you really blame us?’ Nicholas mumbled, receiving a kick in the shin in return. He spent the rest of the discussion rubbing the targetted spot on his leg with a pained crease between his brows. You, besides gaining the small victory of maiming your brother, found yourself yet again on the losing side of another family dispute. Like all its predecessors, this battle ended with you pushing back your chair with a harsh scrape of the panelled floor and slugging back to your room where a dress awaited.

It was beautiful; you could not deny that. Elegant and straightforward, it accented all your finest assets for interested suitors. It was comfortable: not too heavy or too textured in its pattern, it was made of soft material that slipped right on, with the fit of a well-tailored glove. Your hair was pulled up and out of your face, leaving nothing to hide behind.

‘You look lovely, miss,’ your maid said with a kind smile as she put the final pin in your hair.

‘Thank you, Claire.’ You muttered, noticing the saddened sympathy enveloping her features as she knew like no other how much you detested everything about what you were about to go through. ‘Have you got any advice? On how to endure it all?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she shrugged, brushing something off your shoulder. ‘I suppose you could try making them uninterested in you, so they will want to leave sooner.’

‘That thought has crossed my mind,’ you admitted, ‘but I also do not want to put my entire family to shame.’

‘Of course, miss.’ Claire nodded. As she finished working on your presentation, you pondered over your possibilities. Indeed, presenting yourself as improper had been your first idea, and its appeal remained, but you were too afraid of the repercussions. If the gentlemen were to think of you as a lady without any manners, all it would do was put your upbringing up for question, something your parents did not deserve whatsoever.

You also considered spreading gossip about the men coming to introduce themselves, which would scare your mother off them immediately, ensuring they were never to return by your parents’ preference. But it felt cruel to make up such lies. You were sure that in other circumstances, these were perfectly fine men. At this particular moment, you just happened to despise them and everything they stood for.

Perhaps the most appealing option was to simply not attend the audience. To run away and never to return… at least until the afternoon, once all the men had lost all their patience. But that would only cause you more trouble.

The ideas rolled around your head for the rest of the day, even once the suitors sat opposite you in the room. It was all incredibly dull, if not just mortifyingly humiliating, with your mother sitting only across the room, occupying herself with a book, or so it seemed because she most definitely was listening to the conversations attempted on your part.

‘So,’ as most of the dialogues began, the Lord whose name you already forgot spoke, clearing his throat, ‘I hear you read.’

‘Yes, ' you said, blinking to avoid staring too blankly at the wall behind the man, ignoring the balding patch atop his head.

‘Grand,’ he smiled, somehow satisfied with your response already.

‘Do you… ride?’ you asked, hoping that at the least your mother heard your attempts at making a connection and would release you from this torment soon enough on the principle of your good sportsmanship.

‘No, God no, horses are far too beastly for my liking, unless we are speaking of the track, of course.’ The man scoffed, ‘However, I prefer more dignified activities, such as hunting.’

‘Of course, you do,’ you smiled, but the expression never reached your eyes. ‘What about chess? Do you play?’

‘I do not have the patience to commit to such silly games.’

Patience, you thought, or intelligence? And how ironic of him to speak of perseverance. You watched him take another small sandwich from the tea tray provided on a side table, which you were taught to ignore so as not to be observed as “gluttonous”. After all, no one wanted to marry a lady that ate all day.

Considering that, you grabbed a plate and a piece of cake from the top of the tray and bit into it. The soft sponge melted on your tongue. In the meantime, you were asked a question, but you could not possibly answer with a mouthful of cake, could you? Once you had finished, you considered grabbing a second portion, but you could feel the judgmental look of your mother digging into the back of your head.

You put the plate back down and your hands on your lap.

‘I’m sorry, my lord, could you repeat the question, please. I fear I may have lost myself for a moment.’ And so, it continued. Thankfully, the man excused himself not long after, thanking you and your mama for the time, just for his seat to be replaced with someone else almost immediately. This time, the gentleman was significantly younger, with thick hair atop his head and charming eyes, but the second he spoke, you knew this would not reach much further than the comfort of this room. At the least, you did not see this relationship going any further than any of the other acquaintances you had made that day.

By lunchtime, you felt your eyes burning with fatigue, possibly caused by a constant suppression of tears. How much more could you possibly take of this torture?

‘Mr Elton was quite a charmer, was he not?’ Your mother commented as she sipped her tea.

You suppressed your initial thought, rephrasing it to cause less offence, ‘He is too stubborn and self-centred. He barely let me speak a single word, too occupied by his own achievements to expect me to have any.’

‘Well, Lord Frankworth seemed to care very much for what you had to say.’

‘Only because he barely managed to string any thoughts together himself,’ you sighed.

Your mother tightened her grip on the teacup before smiling. ‘Soon enough, we will find you a perfectly fine young man, dear. You just have to remain open-minded.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Speaking of, your next suitor should be here shortly.’

You did everything in your power not to groan at the announcement and instead nodded politely. ‘Who is it?’

‘Mr Harrington, the one your father was so keen on you meeting.’

‘Ah,’ yes, the American. The only thing that gave you some slight hope in the situation was that Mr Harrington had already spent plenty of time in the company of your father and brother Nicholas and had seemingly gained their blessing. But nothing could help you gain the energy to entertain yet another man with polite conversation. The sun had been beaming into the room since the early morning, only growing warmer and warmer, making the hairs at the small of your neck stick.

‘Will you just excuse me for a moment, mother.’ You got up.

‘Is something wrong?’ She looked suspicious but with a glint of worry in her eye.

‘I am quite fine, just require some fresh air, I think,’ which was not entirely a lie.

‘Alright then, just make haste, child.’ Mr Harrington was on his way, after all. ‘We do not want to keep the man waiting.’

‘Of course not,’ you smiled, heading towards the door. When the large panels closed behind you, you picked up your skirt and ran toward the gardens. Your footsteps echoed through the corridors, and you caught several members of the house staff glancing your way with inquisitive looks.

Ever since you could remember, the grounds around Ridlington Park had a fantastical power about them. It had been the turf on which you would spend countless childhood summer days playing games with your siblings, whether the competitive or imaginary type. But no matter what the six of you could think of, your favourite game would always remain Hide and Go Seek. The gardens were a perfect place for it, with endless nooks and crannies one could disappear into. It was nearly a giant maze, and you had mastered it from a very young age. Whilst most got lost between the shrubbery and flowers, you knew exactly where you had found yourself.

There were plenty of hiding spots you enjoyed over the years, some that to this day remain a mystery to the rest of your family, but nonetheless, it was the stables you adored the most. It was a safe haven for you on many days, to the point that you had nearly become invisible to the staff working there.

The stables were located in the far east corner of the grounds, and the walk towards it already cost more time than you had if you had ever planned on returning that quickly. Undeniably, there was a pinch of shame and guilt nipping at your heart towards the strange Mr Harrington, but that soon dissolved when you heard the neighing of Barley Sugar, a golden-brown mare you proudly called yours. A gift and result of a successful business trade made by your father years ago, the horse technically belonged to all of the Byrnwick children, as much as any of the other horses under the family’s possession, but the bond between you and that particular horse just turned out to be that much stronger.

This was visible as soon as you entered the stable. Barley Sugar went wild at your presence, happily swinging her head from side to side.

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ you grinned, petting the horse, who leaned into your touch immediately. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’

But your plans were quickly interrupted by a voice. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’

❀❀❀

An average sea voyage from the Americas to England should take approximately 16 days, considering the weather corresponds with the sails of the ship. During this journey, passengers would most likely endure days upon days of heavy and tall waves bashing across the ship’s sides, and that is to be expected in favourable conditions.

As Lord Byrnwick and his eldest had boarded the ship headed to London, the sky had been bright blue, and it did not change far beyond that. There was, of course, a risk for the two of them to sail across the world as they did, them being head of the family and its heir. A journey such as this one can go awry in many ways, and if it were not for the dangers of seafaring, there were the Anglo-American tensions to consider. After all, the previous year's war was still fresh in everyone’s mind, and one could not be careful enough when entertaining both sides. Luckily for the Byrnwicks, they were not of the superstitious kind, and good fortune had always seemed to be in the family’s favour up until the very moment they stepped on the boat to return home, many years beyond that.

Ever the convivial one, the most considerable success of the trip, according to Lord Byrnwick, was not the business or diplomatic aspects of their ventures but the social. The man immensely enjoyed meeting other like-minded spirits from across the pond, and there had been plenty of fine nights at gentleman’s clubs spent over fine spirits and betting games, discussing all sorts of topics and exchanging information on all subjects. Promises were made to keep in touch whilst arrangements were made for more future meetings. It was only the polite thing to do.

But aside from acquaintances and business partners, an addition to the household had also been made. Of some sort, that is, for it seemed that the two had found a new groom in America.

Now, Gentle Reader, do not conclude of the worst, as the groom we speak of is not the sort one is meant to meet at an altar but the kind who spends his days tending the horses and carriages. The young man, Mr Munson, had been doing precisely that when the Byrnwick heir stumbled upon his conveyance services in town, in dire need of transport for his regular means, which had already been occupied by his father for the day. It was an encounter by utter chance but certainly one with greater consequences.

Several days later, coincidentally, a letter from London had arrived. Five pages long, each written by a member of the family recounting their most notable memories of the week. The children spoke of the ton's gossip and anecdotes of what occurred at home. Mother, however, took it upon herself to write of more important matters regarding the household. Many topics had to be discussed, but in the middle of her letter, there was mention of the unfortunate passing of the family’s barn manager, Mr Falstipp. It was an unexpected death, leaving the entire house in shock as the man had been working for the family for longer than the children had been alive. But it also resulted in the question of what was to be done now?

It was likely only because the interaction had been so fresh in his mind that Nicholas suggested finding a replacement for Mr Falstipp here in America. This was an unusual offer, as his father commented, especially since they would not leave for home until another few days, but that was to be resolved by having the footmen take care of the horses for the time being. Besides, Nicholas was sure his siblings would be more than happy to help with the chores.

The next day, he returned to the public stables and immediately noted how much cleaner they seemed than any other in town. The horses also looked exceptionally well taken care of and content.

Mr Munson had just been feeding a colt when Nicholas eagerly announced, ‘Mr Munson, may I offer you a proposition?’

This, to no surprise, startled the other man for various reasons. ‘Sir?’

‘This must be a peculiar request, but you see, as of recently, my family has found itself in need of a new stablehand and from what I have seen you do, you, sir, would be the perfect candidate.’ Nicholas had the smile of a man losing his sanity, but his words could not be more genuine.

‘Your family—’ Munson blinked, ‘you mean in London.’

‘Yes, and I understand that this might be a problem, but trust me when I say that you will most certainly find England to your liking, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’

‘As you wish,’ Nicholas agreed.

Eddie pondered over the offer for a short moment. It would have taken him no time to decide if it was not for what he was to leave behind, but he knew that his current employer would be able to find his replacement in no time, as jobs in town were hard to come by.

But what must have been even more challenging to obtain was a ticket out of the wasteland he called home. For years, he had dreamt of an escape, never imagining it to be possible, and suddenly, here comes this stranger offering it to him on a silver platter.

It would be terrifying to move so far away, he knew that, with many risks, but the further away he could manage to go from where he was now, the better.

Eventually, after a minute of silence that left Nicholas restless and on the verge of embarrassment, Eddie smiled: ‘It would be my pleasure to work for you, sir.’ And he had meant that wholeheartedly. While it had only been a short few interactions that he had had with the man, the young Mr Byrnwick had already shown Eddie far more kindness than any of his prior employers, or any other man in his life, for a fact. Most importantly, the man knew nothing about Eddie’s past, which must have been the biggest selling point in the life-changing choice.

‘Marvelous. You will not regret this, Eddie.’ Nicholas leaned in to shake his hand, only to realise that Eddie was still carrying the giant bucket of feed. ‘Well, we shall finalise everything on the boat, shall we?’ And so they did.

A week later, Eddie found himself still in shock at his circumstances. He could not believe he was really to be leaving for England until the moment he set foot on the boat, and even once the sails had set and the American coast was nothing but a grim line on the horizon, the fact did not seem to settle in his mind just yet.

Over the next 16 days, he had encountered the Byrnwicks only a handful of times. First, to meet Lord Byrnwick who, as head of the household, wanted a final say on the matter. A bit late, thought Eddie, as the boat had long departed the harbour by then, but his ticket had already been paid for, and thus, he had little else to complain about. He had quickly made peace with the idea that he could make his new life across the ocean work no matter the circumstances. He had done it before, so what is one more homeless night under a new sky?

But the lord seemed all too happy to have found his staff replacement. Overall, the man was nothing like Eddie had expected a gentleman of English high society to be. From his previous experiences, the type often was rather conceited and arrogant, with a transparent opinion of anyone below their class. His new employer and his son, while undoubtedly lordly, had a modest nature about them. Quickly, Eddie had also gathered that the spontaneity with which Nicholas Byrnwick had called upon him for a job opportunity was not uncharacteristic of him, as the young man was rather energetic in his step and impulsive in his actions.

But no matter how unassuming the men were, they did belong to a different rank of man and, therefore, stayed on the boat to the upper decks, engaging with the rest of their kind.

The travel moved on slowly, but in the end, it was also a mere blink of an eye moment, and before he had realised it, Eddie had reached the shores of England. It was another day or two of travel to be done by horse. A carriage had been acquired for Nicholas and his father, but Eddie and the rest of the staff that travelled with the family for their adventure rode on horseback. No matter how much Eddie enjoyed the form of transportation, it was a tiring experience after several hours, but it also allowed him to meet the people he was to work with and, through that, those he would work for.

‘So, what is the rest of the family like,’ he asked Mr Trowbridge, the lord’s valet. If there was anyone who could tell Eddie something, it would be this man.

‘Well,’ Mr Trowbridge had a particularly nasal tone about his voice that especially came forward at the beginning of his sentences, ‘I do not believe there is much to tell. They are as any other family, really.’

‘My good man, you can hardly expect me to believe there is nothing worth telling about these people,’ Eddie laughed. ‘If it puts your mind at ease, I am only asking for the simplest facts—nothing to interest my fancy.’

The valet pondered over this for a moment. ‘Very well. You have, of course, met the Viscount and his eldest.’ He took a moment for Eddie to respond with a nod in agreement. He then took another moment to consider his following words. The longer he took, the more keen Eddie felt to suggest what to speak of.

‘What about Lady Byrnwick?’

‘Lady Byrnwick is most amiable and has a very caring character, but you will not find her in the stables often unless she is searching for her children.’

‘Not fond of horses, is she?’

‘Rather the outside—-’ Trowbridge cleared his hair vigorously. ‘In the sense that the sun and pollen often leave her poorly. But the children…’ he punctuated his half-sentence with a heavy sigh.

‘They are a handful?’ Eddie assumed. To this, Trowbridge searched for another description but found himself lacking the vocabulary, leading to a confirmation.

‘I have worked for this family for nearly three decades, and I will assure you that each member is as proper a member of society as the next. While boisterous, they have been taught to be independent individuals.’ The valet's tone made Eddie consider how much of their good decorum was in gratitude for the man’s own intervention and guidance.

‘At 27 years, Nicholas is the eldest, and the responsibilities of this role are one of the few aspects of his life which he takes seriously, I cannot put any doubt behind that.’ Indeed, whilst extremely impetuous, the heir’s son also understood the duties of his position and towards his family.

‘Then there is Christopher. The boy has immense athletic abilities but not much beyond that. For a young man of his age of five and twenty, one would assume he would be able to compose himself with a bit more propriety, but it is very difficult for him. He is adventurous and rarely can sit still for an extended period of time, including his mouth. It is suggested that people be careful of what they say around the man.

‘The eldest daughter, Annabelle, married just before we had departed for America, thus is now the lady of her own house.’ Something in his tone suggested he was sad to see the young woman leave home. This possibly has to do with the fact that Miss Annabelle (Now known as Duchess Annabelle Ramsbury) was the most dutiful and respectful of the six children. ‘The marriage had been long overdue as she had just turned 22 on the day of the ceremony, but a love match was found nonetheless.’ The valet guffawed with pride. It was clear to Eddie that, while considering them a nuisance, the man cared deeply for the family he served.

‘I must admit, Trowbridge,’ Eddie chuckled in this horse’s trot pattern over the uneven paths. ‘When you began speaking of the family, I had imagined the children to be… well, children.’

‘How old are you, Munson?’ Trowbridge asked, somewhat bluntly.

‘Twenty, sir.’ Perhaps closer to his next birthday than the last.

‘Ah, just the age of the second daughter then,’ he nodded in agreement. ‘She may perhaps be the most… rebellious of the kin. It is all in good spirit, as you must imagine, and I am sure the interest in such nonsense will dwindle as she matures. She is also the most fond of the family horses; thus, you will see her quite often, I expect. But as her sibling, she has mastered the care for the animals as well as the equipment.’

As he spoke of your skills, something about Trowbridge's expression communicated particular dismay to Eddie. ‘Is that bad? For a young woman to know how to carry herself around a horse?’ He, for one, certainly did not see a problem in it. On the contrary, it was an instrumental skill to develop for anyone.

‘It is not exactly lady-like, is it?’ Trowbridge spoke as if that was the only relevant argument on the matter. Eddie had learned from a very young age that some opinions were better left unsaid, and seeing him as the senior in age and position, Eddie thought it unwise to argue with the valet on his first official day of employment. He instead simply nodded in understanding. Instead, he opted to continue the civil interrogation—

‘What of the youngest two? What are they like?’

‘Fitzwilliam is a dapper fellow. He is but seventeen, but very accomplished, though I cannot say he knows how to put his acquired skills to good use. He has ambitions that cannot be denied; it is just a question of whether these ambitions can ever be met.

‘And lastly, we have Miss Marjorie. A darling girl, I assure you,’ Trowbridge stated. I can only suggest not letting her size fool you, Munson. She has managed to wrap her family around her little fingers the moment she learned to mumble a word, leaving her to cause quite the ruckus for the past eleven years.’

‘I do not see how that involves me, Sir,’ Eddie said. By this time, the sun had begun to set over the fields they passed, and soon, the company would break for their overnight travels at a nearby inn.

‘It had come to my attention over the years that Mr Falstipp–the previous groom, that is— had been quite lenient on the children and their usage of the horses. This has caused a number of incidents that I would rather not see a repetition of.’

‘Understood.’

‘I am unaware of your er– American customs,’ the valet began his lecture, ‘but you must also know that here, ladies are not to ride unaccompanied—something that has been protested in the family to no avail, but it is simply the procedure. There must always be a chaperone nearby to supervise, whether that is a senior member of the family or an entrusted member of the household.’

‘I do not expect to have gained that trust just yet,’ Eddie said earnestly.

‘But let us hope you will.’ The smile Trowbridge gave Eddie was kind at first glance, but the movement of his eyes that inspected him told an entirely different story. He knew he still had much to learn about navigating himself around the kinds of people that were the Byrnwicks, even those who worked for them. The moment he set foot on English soil, he knew it would be challenging to fit in if he ever planned to do so.

The truth is that he did not plan such a change. For you see, Dear Reader, Mr Eddie Munson was also a radical. He did not believe in adapting to society, which was visible in his entire being. One can also imagine the struggle he had to endure when given a uniform to wear. Frankly, the ensemble did not differ much from how the man dressed himself before, but the simple fact that he was told to wear this particular set of clothing upset him severely.

On the first day after his arrival at Ridlington Park, he had managed to justify himself out of dressing in the required clothing by claiming that the trousers were a smidgen too tight. Without another size available, he was told to wear the clothes on his back until the new, fitted attire arrived.

But the clothes did not even begin to reach the problem of the horses he was meant to care for.

Turned out, while he had been given all sorts of warnings against the family, what Eddie should have been preparing for was the beasts that homed the stables. The stubborn animals would not let him touch them, and any attempts were met with angry stares and stomping of the hooves.

‘Easy, there,’ Eddie spoke as softly as he could, taking small steps in any direction that would not enrage the stallion whom he was currently attempting to feed. White Liquorice, a white Arabian, was undoubtedly an animal worthy of a viscount, and from the moment he had stepped into the Ridlington Park stables, Eddie knew that the Kentucky Saddlers and Quarter Horses he grew up with were no match for these and he would quickly have to learn to get on with them if he was to stay here.

Yes, the first days were hard, but not even one week later, he had gotten used to the rhythm of operations. It helped that, working as the barn manager, he was the one in charge and mostly left alone. Mr Trowbridge had visited him to ensure he was adjusting to the new working conditions, which was kind, but besides that, Eddie rarely saw anyone but footmen requesting the carriage to be prepared for the family.

That is until one afternoon when he heard the doors open and someone walking inside. He had been around the corner of the stables, cleaning some grooming tools.

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ he heard the intruder speak. It was soft and gentle, most likely referring to one of the horses. Immediately, Eddie was reminded of one of the conversations shared with Lord Byrnwick’s valet. He swiftly got up from his seat and immediately found the culprit.

He watched you pet one of the horses—Barley Sugar, was it—-petting her in a way he had not yet managed to do confidently. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’ These words triggered him to jump into action.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’ He stepped forward, but his words startled you, causing you to turn around. As you did so, your foot got caught in an old set of bridles Eddie had still planned on detangling and putting away. The surprise coming with the unexpected presence of someone else, combined with the awkward position of your foot, led you to fall over with a shriek.

Eddie cursed under his breath as he watched you huff on the ground. ‘Let me help you,’ he extended his hand to you, ‘and my apologies, it was not my intent to—’

‘Who are you?’ you said in a tone that could only be deemed skittish, if not directly fearful, but not enough to deny his offer to help you stand. Your reaction was validated as you had never met the man standing before you. You eyed him up and down, and the more details you noticed, the more you were sure that you had just stumbled upon a robbery, nay, a kidnapping.

The man's presentation spoke for itself, truly. His long hair was dark and unkept, well over his shoulders. His clothes were nothing like the workers around your house were meant to dress like, making him stick out like a very sore thumb. The trousers were old and worn, and the shirt was loose over his upper body, revealing—oh god, was that a tattoo?

It was clear this is how you were to die.

‘Are you here to steal my horses?’ you blurted out before you could think.

‘What?’ He blinked. ‘No, please, listen—’ but you did no such thing. Instead, you did the only thing a lady in distress could do.

You screamed bloody murder.

‘Help! Anyone! Help—’ you would have kept on going, shouting over his attempt at reason until he finally shut you up by placing his hand over your mouth, his other hand sturdily over your upper arm. The two of you stood there for a moment, chests both heaving in all forms of panic, listening for footsteps or any other presence, but the only sound was the soft breathing of the animals around you.

‘I will let go now, miss,’ Eddie said slowly. Both your eyes were wide from the uncultivated situation that had just occurred. ‘And I will explain everything to you, just, please—and I beg you— do not scream.’ You nodded your head beneath his palm in agreement. Eddie counted to three as he stepped back and finally let go of you. Despite him never blocking your airways, you inhaled deeply.

‘There is absolutely no reason to panic, ma’am.’ His accent was distant, one you had never had the pleasure of hearing before. His eyes, large and dark, locked you in, almost making you lose count of the lingering feeling of his hands on your body. He had given you a moment before he continued speaking, ensuring that you would not resume your screaming or make a run for it.

‘What is your reason of being here?’ You inquired.

‘I work here. Have been, for the past week. I think it was your brother, in fact, that gave me the position. We met on his travels.’

Now, come to think of it, you remembered your family's conversation on the day your father and brother returned. There had been talk of new staff—a young man they had brought along with them from America as an official replacement for the late Mr Falstipp. But that did not explain his attire.

‘You could be fired for breaking the dress code alone, you know. Not to mention for the, uhm, actions you had just performed.’ You commented.

‘Well, you can always report me, miss.’ Eddie, against all his better judgement, smiled.

‘Maybe I should.’ Your heart was still pounding, and you felt so disoriented that even a simple smile made your head spin. ‘What is your name?’

‘Eddie.’

‘Well, Mr Eddie—’ you began, just to be quickly interrupted.

‘No, just Eddie.’ Eddie shook his head.

‘What do you mean? Do you have no family name?’ You had heard of men bringing in street urchins to work for them, but surely, this man was too old for such charity. And you could not imagine your brother to perform such acts of kindness anyway.

‘I do.’ His smile only widened in amusement at the conversation. ‘Eddie Munson.’

‘My, is it usual in America to introduce oneself like that?’ Never had you heard of a man introducing himself by only his first name, let alone a byname.

‘It is usual to me,’ he quipped, ‘And it is more common than not introducing yourself at all.’ The way in which he looked up at you from under his lashes felt accusatory, but you could not find it within you to be upset at the critique, so you gave him your name instead.

‘Pleasure to meet you, Miss Byrnwick.’ He gave you a small, polite bow that reminded you more of how children play Lord and Lady rather than a gentlemanly act. Next thing you knew, a smile was pulling at the corner of your lips, and a small giggle was ready to escape.

For some reason, you hesitated to say your following words: ‘It is a pleasure, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’ While always respecting the titles of others, Eddie never saw himself as one to follow such formalities.

‘That is most improper.’ You held back the urge to scoff.

‘But I insist.’ There was something in the corner of his eye that you managed to catch a glimpse of—this spark that no sunlight or fire could match. It was pure mischief, a spirit of chaos. But still, to call a man you barely knew by his first name was simply not right. Your family may jest as they please about your rebelling attitude to primitive customs, but you had to admit that some things ought to be done in a proper manner. And this was certainly not it.

However, Mr Munson saw it in another light but did not find enough of an interest in the subject enough to argue it further. Rather, he cleared his throat briefly and observed you for a moment.

How silly you must look in your fancy dress! Your hair was done up to match, and your shoes were most likely covered in mud. There was also no doubt that he had overheard you talking to your horse about running away. You had good faith that he could connect the pieces to form the complete picture.

A bird flew past a window, making you glance past Eddie’s shoulder in haste.

‘I hope I am not keeping you from any other plans, miss?’ He finally asked. Could you be so bold as to admit that he was saving you from other commitments by conversing with you?

‘No, of course, not Mr Munson,’ you persisted. ‘I am simply cautious.’ Come to think of it, your screams must have been heard all around the grounds. If those who heard, in turn, had an ounce of common sense amongst them, they would have called for someone in the house. If that was the case, your mother would be here momentarily, and then it was back to the house for you. All you could do now was hide.

‘May I ask what are you being cautious of?’ Eddie followed you with his eyes as you walked through the stables, looking for a hiding spot.

‘If you must know, I am currently on the run,’ you stated while looking over a haystack in the far corner.

‘Ah, so whilst you had accused me of being a criminal, it was you who had been committing the crimes then? Should I now scream for help?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t, ' you said, attempting to climb the hay to get past it. ‘I have already brought much too much attention to myself.’ Your foot slipped, making you tumble back down to the ground. The accident made you stop for a moment before attempting to climb again, looking over your shoulder at the man. ‘Are you not going to even try and stop me?’

‘Oh,’ it was as if he had awakened from a deep thought or had just realised that what you suggested was exactly what he ought to do. ‘Well, would you listen if I told you not to climb up there?’

You pondered his question for a short moment. ‘No, I highly doubt it.’ Thus, you resumed your climbing. As you did, you heard the shuffling of his feet behind you. The next time you slipped up, this time from a far higher distance, he had been in precisely the right place to catch you in his arms.

‘I cannot assure you I will be able to catch you once more, so it is in good conscience that I suggest you stop, ma’am,’ he said as you got back to your feet.

‘You are right,’ you admitted. Then you realised just how close the two of you stood and quickly occupied yourself by looking for another hiding place. That is when you noticed it. You had spent years in this stable and knew every inch of the space, yet… ‘Have you moved things around?’ You looked back at Eddie.

‘Only a little. I’m afraid my predecessor did not have a flair for organisation,’ he explained.

‘That may be so, but I would prefer you would put things back as they were.’

‘Excuse me?’ Eddie could not help but laugh at the demand.

‘Your new floor plan has completely disoriented me, ' you admitted. ‘It is unbecoming.’

‘My apologies. I will be sure to put things back as they were, then.’ His laugh still echoed his words.

You had not expected him to actually agree to this request. ‘You will?’ But quickly, you regained your composure and tried to hide the surprise in your voice. ‘Very well, thank you. Then, since you have discarded all of my possible hiding locations, what do you suggest I should do?’

‘I suggest you run.’ But it was not Eddie who had answered you.

‘Mother, ' you gasped. What was it, in God’s good name, with everyone sneaking up on you today? Lady Byrnwick stood at the threshold of the stables with her arms crossed. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she took a step inside. You prepared yourself for a disciplinary outburst, but instead, your mother focused on the man standing next to you.

‘You must be Mr Munson.’ The kindness in her voice was laughable. The overcompensation of her kindness threw both you and Eddie off.

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ You noticed that he bowed his head in a much more orderly fashion than he had done to you.

‘I hope my daughter has not been too much of a nuisance.’

‘Not at all.’ Eddie politely replied.

‘Good, good. Well, I can already see that my son did a good job in finding you,’ she stated as she looked around the retouched interior. ‘And I hope that you will grow to enjoy England.’

‘I’ve had nothing to complain of yet.’ Eddie proudly said with that smile of his, and for a moment, you thought to have caught his eyes on you for just a second. Your mother nodded along with his words in satisfaction, but this cheeriness dissipated as soon as she directed herself to you.

‘Has your headache cleared, dear?’ Her eyes were spitting fire.

‘Yes, mother.’

‘Then we will be on our way.’ She stepped aside, giving you room to walk outside. ‘Goodbye, Mr Munson.’ Eddie had become the unintentional victim of the venom that perferred your mother's words.

He was polite enough to look away as you made your shameful walk through the aisle between the horses’ stalls, but you couldn’t help but look behind you one final time as you left and catch his favourable grin. What a peculiar man he was, indeed—one whose presence you immediately began to miss.

Perhaps that was because of the company you were in at the time.

‘Have you gone completely mad?’ Your mother scowled. ‘Mr Harrington has been waiting for well over half an hour.’

‘He is still here?’ You stopped in your tracks. This day could not have gone any worse. It seemed like everything you had been doing was working in your favour.

‘Yes, so you better come up with a clever excuse for your tardiness as I will not be embarrassed any longer. I swear, have you no shame?’

‘I am truly sorry mother, I had lost track of the time.’

‘Doing what exactly? What were you doing in the stables, exactly? Considering you had told me you were going out for some fresh air.’ Yes, the air around the horses was not exactly to be called “fresh.”

Unfortunately, you had no satisfying answer to any of your mother’s questions. Come to it, you yourself were unsure what exactly had brought you there in the first place, not to mention what made you stay. It must have been a sense of child-like naivete to think you could hide from your problems the way you attempted.

Problems that were coming closer as Mr Harrington walked towards you through the aisle of hyacinths that grew all around you in various colours.

‘What is he doing here?’ you mumbled towards your mother.

‘Considering the lovely weather, I had offered for us to sit out in the gardens.’ Your mother spoke out loud. That is when you noticed the set table and chairs under a large parasol on the patio.

‘I hope you do not mind. I took the initiative of taking a stroll in your absence.’ Mr Harrington spoke in a cadence that would have been new to you if not for the fact that you had spent the last hour in the presence of a very similar tone.

‘Of course, not,’ your mother had regained her ability to smile. ‘May I introduce my daughter.’ And so she did.

‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. I completely lost track of time.’ You apologised and were ready to offer your hand to Mr Harrington when you noticed how filthy your gloves had become. In a panic, you pushed both your hands behind your back, trying to distract the man with a wide grin.

‘The important thing is that we are all here now,’ he manoeuvred, which you could not help but agree with, then led you to the patio.

The next hour went by faster than you had ever imagined it would. Mr Steve Harrington turned out to be not only a great conversationalist but a rather fascinating one at that. It was only a fault of your own that you were distracted for a larger part of the conversation. There was simply something about the man’s brown eyes that constantly reminded you of somewhere else. He was very charming and, abiding by your brother’s promises, had a great, though perhaps somewhat awkward, wit. It seemed that his confidence, once clearly overt, had been lowered, causing him to stumble over his words at times and laugh at his own mistakes in a deprecating manner, but never enough to make it a bother in your eyes. Truly, it was all rather endearing.

But you could not, for the life of you, figure out what exactly caused these fumblings in his character, as nothing seemed to be particularly wrong with the man. Though you did not see him as an academic or scholar of any sort, from the way he spoke, you could tell he was one of the more clever men you had the fortune of meeting. And his looks were certainly no topic of discussion either. He was tall and lean, with a wonderful smile and soft brown hair that apparently was more common than imagined, as were those dark eyes and the way he held you in his arms—

You took a sip of the cold water as Mr Harrington expressed his gratitude to your mother for the audience and made sure the message would be conveyed to Lord Byrnwick, too. You nodded and smiled along. Even when he bid you farewell and bowed his head, your mind was elsewhere. As if expecting something to emerge from behind the hyacinths, you could not help but glance in the Eastern direction of the gardens.

‘See, it was not all that bad, was it?’ your mother immediately said, pulling you back to the patio. By then, Mr Harrington had excused himself and was crossing the patio to the exit from the grounds but had turned briefly for a final goodbye, which you met with a polite wave.

‘No, I suppose you are right, mother.’ You had persevered against all odds. As you watched the gentleman leave, you felt quite content with the meeting—happy, some would even say. The only problem was that you could not make quite clear what, or rather, who brought on this particular mood.

To be continued...

Thank you so much for reading!! I really do hope you enjoyed this chapter. Remember the best way to support writers is to reblog and share. I love to hear what people think of my stories so feel free to leave a comment or an ask or message.

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s0ulryo · 1 year

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Flustering König Headcanons .:*¨༺

[König x Reader] Synopsis: Flustering König plus some general relationship stuff. Tags: Softish, kinda silly, there’s not a lot konig content so i will continue to contribute, I forgot the other tags, established relationship (i forget to put this tag on a ton of things whoops) Notes: Prolly ooc n not proofread, big men go brrr, originally this was gonna be a drabble but I couldn’t think of one plot to stick to (whoops x2)

Thank you @theoutlawfaleena for letting me write about this!

(Reader is always gn unless specified otherwise.)

Despite his massive stature, immense physical strength, and overall intimidating presence — König is a fairly reserved guy, outside the battlefield, that is. He’s not reserved out of humility or timidness, though — he’s reserved due to his anxiousness, constantly fearing being bullied or made fun of in some way.

König outside of the field is quite a fascinating sight. He rarely speaks, and when he does, it’s quiet and rushed, almost like he’s afraid to say something. He also tends to fidget a lot when speaking.

He also could be better with eye contact. Towards the beginning of your relationship, he would always look past your face or focus on your hands — he’s still not great with eye contact, but he’s much better than he was previously.

He tends to lose focus or entirely forget what he’s saying when he makes eye contact with you. It’s quite a funny sight; imagine this big guy fidgeting with his hands (or your hands) and diverting his eyes away from yours, looking at his feet or anything remotely interesting to spare him from embarrassment.

“Well, then I thought it would be cool to….” Then, swallowing thickly, König stops speaking, shifting his gaze from your eyes to his shoes.

“König is everything alright?” You ask him — your eyes filled with concern.

Stuttering, he mumbles out a yes and becomes super fidgety while continuing his story.

Stuttering is something that only happens when König is with you. When he makes eye contact with other people, he tends just to go silent— something that most people overlook because he's usually pretty quiet anyways.

The stuttering, though, comes as a result of wanting to talk or to continue to talk to you — but he tends to get nervous and back out mid-way when speaking, making him stutter.

He feels like a total idiot when he stutters around you, but he knows you don’t mind, which he’s super thankful for.

Something that noticeably flusters him is pet names. Whether he is saying or receiving the pet name, he will totally get flustered by them.

His favorite pet names to call you are ‘sweetheart,’ ‘darling,’ ‘love,’ or ‘honey’ (,or some Austrian German variation of those). He likes these in particular because they have a pleasant sense of intimacy.

König has definitely called you during his free time on the base or when he was able to when deployed and has totally addressed you by a pet name, forgetting that he was in a professional environment (and that his fellow operators are nosy) and got so much shit from his colleagues.

He really wanted to pass away that day due to the embarrassment the other operators teasing put him through.

Again, König likes pet names due to the sense of intimacy they have. That being said, he has some personal favorites of what he appreciates being called.

His favorite pet names to be called by you are either ‘love,’ ‘dear’, ‘big guy,’ or ‘handsome.’ He likes these in particular because they give him a sense of stability — they help ground him and help him remember that you adore him.

‘Big guy’ and ‘handsome’ make him feel happy and giddy — like smiling and kicking his feet giddy. He knows he’s taller than the average person. Still, König never really acknowledged his overall appearance, so the fact that you think he’s handsome and you recognize his physical features makes him feel special.

König, on the field, is someone else entirely, though. Sure he’ll still get flustered, but that’s covered up due to the sheer amount of adrenaline he’s running on — sometimes König won’t even think about what he said or what had been said to him; he’ll just bounce around and do his thing while being on that adrenaline high. However, he’ll be thoroughly embarrassed once that feeling wears off.

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luna-lovegreat · 5 months

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Triple Threat Time

The Terror Trio

Legend, Hyrule, and Wild are known as the Triple Threat and I love them.

@breannasfluff for you, m'lady

Legend and Wild

These two are the most over looked.

And from the very beginning, we have a ton of examples of them just. Being. Near each other.

Like magnets

We can trace back to the moment these two really connected and spent more time with each other... which was of COURSE over girlfriend trauma

That's one of our first Legend being soft moments, showing true empathy. And Wild found that Legend could be understanding of his hurt- this is where they connected beyond just being closer than most

The main point in the plot with Legend and Wild is when they split off into groups

They went together, and this interaction shows that with these three, Legend is the common sense filter that keeps the other two from falling off of cliffs

Wild: I wanted to climb the mountain!

Leg: there is literally a cliff to fall off of right there

One of the things I love most about about Legend and Wild is they understand each other

We have multiple examples of them literally stating facts about the other in coversation.

"I know you love to tease" "you break everything" "you're not usually impressed"

They just state facts about each other because they get each other and understand

Wild and Hyrule

Ah yes. The two that have so many similarities in which they give the rest of the chain heart attacks

They both have the insecurity about knighthood. Hyrule because he's never felt adequate, and Wild feels like he only used to be.

They both hate maps (who needs them, right? *promptly gets lost*)

They do not care about injury at all. "I can walk off a broken leg for sure it'll be fine"

When left alone these two nearly die. Like every time. Love them.

Here's a lot of them hanging out:

Legend and Hyrule

The downfall duo

These two are from the same timeline, the downfall timeline, and there are certain connections coming from the same world. I think that their world made them have a similar fighting style because of how it's developed.

They are around each other mostly

And they always fight together

Here's my take on these two: Legends more confident because he's done so much. Hyrule's less confident because he didn't have such an insane number of adventures.

Legend's been through enough to know this is ganon's fault, not his. Hyrule's been through little enough (even with insanely hard adventures) that he has much more insecurity.

These two are quite possibly the most skilled in survival, because of no formal knight training. Instead of having perfect swordsmanship, they have tools (legend) and spells (hyrule) to fight in a world that was so much harder.

Which of course relates to wild who woke up in a cave, found a sword and winged it.

That's their relationships two on two

Legend and wild: power team, overlooked but so so close

Wild and Hyrule: do not let them near fire

Legend and Hyrule (downfall duo): They fight together and they are a pair

Combined these three make a Triple Threat

They also have dynamics with all three of them combined

Bestest moments of them:

When turned into a bunny, Legend mentioned both Hyrule and Wild as the ones he was worried about seeing him that way

In both scenes of Wild breaking swords Legend or Hyrule was there

When Wild was injured, they both somehow lost their senses and freaked out about him being dead (lol)

But with all of them they understand each other

Wild and Hyrule know Legend is grumpy and rude- they don't care, he's their brother. As the one who appreciates maps, he keeps both from getting even closer to dying

Hyrule: he feels accepted. These two make him feel like he has a place and is valuable to those with similarities.

Hyrule and Legend don't care about Wild's odd traits, they know that he breaks stuff and gets hurt often.

Proof

!!!! Looking at their scenes (in my screenshots above too), this is clear: all three of them have more examples than most of them being next to or near the others

Plus all the adventures and scenes of them- they fight and wander together- they are on this journey with each other

Because they understand each other, they spend time with each other. With nine people in the chain, when a few are around each other this much rather than the others, it makes it very clear how close they are, since they simply want to be near each other.

Here's my very favourite picture that perfectly sums up the three of them:

Legend: grrrr

Hyrule: excited

Wild: still can't put his hands on his hips properly

And these three combined... we've got constantly injured, set fire to everything, get lost a ton, snarky rudeness galore, plus swords and tools and magic, and that makes them a threat

(one thing I want to point out. you can see this by looking at the screenshots in this post. with the chain, much of figuring out who is close is simply who is near each other. looking at their interactions and the times they are hanging out as a group, Four is most often near and hanging out with these three rather than the others, so I think he is also very close to them and feels comfortable with them. do with that what you will.)

Yeah! Terror Trio.

#btw- I used terrior trio tags for the purpose of finding stuff in my own blog but the official/main tag is Lu triple threat #(I have no idea what I'm doing sometimes but it's ok)#I love triple threat #lu triple threat #linked universe #linkeduniverse #loz #Lu #terror trio #Lu terror trio #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu legend

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jackoshadows · 2 months

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It's so confusing and weird that Bridgerton introduced in world racism both with Lady D and Simon in season one of the show and in Queen Charlotte and at the same time they also want the audience to accept that somehow Marina Thompson or the dark skinned Indian Kate Sharma has more privilege and power than Penelope Featherington?

Kate Sharma was also poor, so much more than the Featheringtons. She depended on Lady D to host them. The Sharmas were looked down on by the ton because Mary Sheffield married an Indian. The Sharmas were disowned and ostracized by the Sheffields.

Kate was also an unmarried spinster. No one was asking Kate to dance. As much as Kate wanted love and romance and to dance at a ball wearing pretty dresses, she got none of that. She was also the woman on the sidelines watching as others danced and fell in love.

Racism and colorism is also very much a thing in eurocentric notions of beauty considering the setting and characters of Bridgerton is 99% white.

We got so little of Kate's backstory, of who her parents where - we didn't even get their names!! - of the trauma (explained for both Simon and Anthony using flashbacks) that had Kate overlooking her own happiness for that of her sister.

Despite bragging nonstop about the diversity of Bridgerton the showrunners thought that the white Featheringtons needed more screentime in season 2 rather than the South Asian family.

And Kate was planning on going back to India and work as a governess to pay for her livelihood. Because, you know, there's more honest ways of being a 'working woman' than running the equivalent of the regency 'Daily Mail' dragging other women down. The modiste Madame Delacroix, Kate planning to teach and Sienna in season one are all working to pay a living. Black, brown and lower class women looking to alleviate poverty.

And considering how much harder Kate already had it as an outsider in the ton, it wouldn't have been easy with Penelope using her gossip rag to describe the unmarried Indian woman as ' a Spinster of a beast'. What did Kate do to Penelope to warrant this? Nothing. Just a way for Penelope to make money at Kate's expense.

That's the thing I dislike the most about the way the character of Penelope is written on the show - her victims don't deserve her vitriol and are often in much worse circumstances than her. From Kate Sharma to the unnamed seamstress who apparently lost all her customers because Penelope wrote falsely about their work in the her tabloid as a bribe for Madam Delacroix.

And I think that's what I find problematic about the writing of the show and even the discourse surrounding it - when characters like Marina Thompson (the poor black cousin who would have ended up destitute on the streets because of Penelope) and Kate Sharma arguably have it far worse than Penelope Featherington as per the show's writing and yet we are supposed to have the most sympathy for Penelope because her crush Colin didn't love her back and she's a curvy white woman?

I guess that's the difference between how I perceive this world and these characters as a woc and the majority white female audience for this show and it's such a huge disconnect for me. I guess this is also partly because the show has this badly written and 'strangely toothless racism' as Ash Sarkar beautifully put it. As in the racism is treated in this world as a little problem solved by handing out a few titles to black people instead of being a white supremacist ideology which treated black and brown people as inferior, serfs and slaves.

From what little we got from season 2, Kate Sharma definitely did not have it easy navigating the ton as a poor outsider and that certainly contributed to her poor choices. She is also put through the wringer, treated like the other woman, is miserable for several episodes, had to apologize again and again and nearly die before Edwina forgives her!

In contrast Penelope's actions have hurt so many and yet she gets a pass by both the show and a fandom that wants Colin to grovel before her because of a single offhand remark and because he didn't return her affections.

Also making it clear here that I am not comparing Penelope to the male characters who always get the better writing, flaws and all. I am comparing Penelope to the female characters of colour - Kate Sharma and Marina Thompson.

I mean, Marina Thompson gets so much vitriolic and sexist hatred for not having told Colin Bridgerton the truth of her pregnancy. How dare Marina hurt this privileged white man Colin Bridgerton. When she was desperate to not end up destitute on the streets or get raped by old white men. And yet Penelope gets a pass for hurting women like Marina and Kate.

It continues a trend of white female characters never being held to the same standard as female characters of colour. Daphne sexually assaults Simon in season one and that was not even addressed on the show. Male rape is apparently no big deal because Daphne wanting children is what's important. It's Simon who has to apologize and within one episode resolve his trauma and accept being a father. This is despite both Daphne and Penelope having more screentime and more writing that builds their character unlike the stick thin writing given to Kate Sharma in season 2.

So yeah, I will be checking into season 3 to watch the ten minutes we get with Kate Sharma since we got so little of her in her own season and it's so singular to get dark skinned south Indian characters in a period drama romance like this. It's just the way the writing on the show, the production and even the fandom treats it's characters, especially characters of colour has been disappointing to say the least.

#Bridgerton #Kate Sharma #Marina Thompson #female characters in Bridgerton #writing #fandom discourse

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mobbu-min · 1 year

Text

☆ bragging rights ☆

(ft. the vice housewardens + ruggie)

After reading this fic where reader brags about the dorm leaders, could I request a version with the vice dorm leaders? And maybe the first years in the future? requested by anon PLEASE!! I LOVE YOUR FIC ABOUT BRAGGING THE DORMLEADER SIMPING RANT TO THE FIRST YEARS SHSBSJS MAKES ME ALL FLUFF 😭 Could you perhaps one day make the vice dorm vers, please?? no pressure of course— i just need all those fluff making me giggling at midnight on my bed because of the fluff its so CUTE!! requested by anon This https://at.tumblr.com/mobbu-min/request-what-if-the-dorm-leaders-had-an-so/qt4e3a02k8z8 this right here was the cutest shit I've ever read. If it's not too much to ask of you, is it alright if we had a version with the Vice Dorm Leaders? Jamil's either gon be smug as fuck or shocked. requested by anon

a/n i decided to put Ortho in the first year part which is probably going to be posted tomorrow tbh

tw cursing and reader is horny for a lot of them

want more? here is part one: bragging rights

Trey + Ace/Deuce <3

⋆ Ace can understand why you’d brag about Trey. I mean it’s Trey Clover. Literally the most husband material of the husbands. He’s good looking, can bake, smells nice, cleans well, can bake, is good with kids (at least what Ace has heard), is perfect at dealing with Riddle. Did he mention that Trey can bake? Anyways, Ace actually doesn’t have anything bad to say. Sure you’re annoying and Ace can’t seem to look Trey in the eyes after all the filth that comes out of your mouth. He can’t delete the memory of you ogling Trey while he was bending down to get something out of the oven and drooling, ‘man, what I would do to get a bite out of that ass’. He legit considered drowning his eardrums in bleach, yuck.

⋆ Same as Ace, but he gets so flustered everytime you say anything remotely dirty. But anyways, Deuce actually really loves the way you talk so highly and lovingly of Trey. Like yeah, it’s a little much and kinda makes Deuce feel like a third wheel despite the fact Trey is very much not present, but Deuce can’t help but want someone that would talk about him so highly as well. Also, he knows that Trey would take wonderful care of you and that’s all he could ask for.

⋆ Trey is both shocked and happy. He’s pretty much used to people overlooking him because let's be honest, out of everyone in the dorm (hell probably the school), he’s the most normal one out there. But knowing that you’re willing to talk anyone’s ears off just about him makes him chuckle. You sure are something else, huh? Well, Trey doesn’t mind, actually he’ll probably show up at Ramshackle with your favorite sweet and show you what these hands can do~

He’s going to give you a massage, nasties

Ruggie + Jack <3

⋆ A respecter of his elders, Jack feels a sense of pride when you talk so highly of Ruggie. Though at first, he mistakes it as admiration and respect just like Jack feels for Ruggie, but something about the way your eyes light up and cheeks brighten quickly gives him another impression. Listen, Jack adores you and wants what's best for, however, that doesn’t mean Jacks wants to listen to your hour long rants about Ruggie. Again, Jack’s a chill guy, so he’ll water his plants and do other chores while you trail after him like a little duckling. It’s cute really

⋆Ruggle like ‘are they talking about me? You’re joking, nu-uh….oh shit!’ He gets so smug about it. His tail literally wags back and forth so fast he considers taping it to his side. Ruggie definitely wasn’t expecting it, because one, you hang out with a ton of cool people, and two, Ruggie is constantly messing with you (affectionately ofc). He definitely sees your relationship in a new light. Maybe he wouldn’t mind sharing some food sometime, just a thought.

Jade + Grim <3

⋆ Grim is so fuckin scared. He doesn’t know if it’s for you, or for him, all he knows is that he’s running for the hills anytime he sees that tall ass fucker. Like literally, you just had to choose the scariest person ever to simp for huh? You know that tiktok sound where it’s all like “Shut the fuck up! I’m so fuckin scared rn!”, yeah that’s Grim. Always on the verge of shitting himself or fighting Jade. Grim has not known peace.

⋆Jade is pleasantly surprised. Originally, he’s all like ‘I can totally get something out of this’ but eventually you wormed your way into his heart. Does he protest? No, because you’re genuinely the most interesting creature he’s ever met. Jade considers you one the most precious pearls in the world. So knowing you consider him a worth enough person to brag about makes him beyond happy. However, don’t expect that this relieves you of his teasing, because he finds this a perfect opportunity to amp it up.

Jamil + Grim <3

⋆ There’s two things that run through Grim mind when you ‘shockingly’ confess that you have the hots for Jamil. One, didn’t he literally kidnap us?! And two, hell yeah! Food! Grim walks a thin line between wanting to be mad at Jamil for what he did during winter break and falling in love with him instead, because damn, when Grim heard the saying ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’ he didn’t realize how true it was until Jamil became a recurring face in his life.

⋆ Jamil is both shocked and smug. Like, he expected you to fall for Kalim, because he has money and is emotionally available. But! The fact that you didn’t fall for Kalim makes him 100x more smug! Like for once, Jamil beats Kalim and doesn’t have to a) feel burdened by it or 2) feel guilty. So it's a win-win situation! Jamil is calculating and observant, so he decided to go a safe route and cook you all your favorite food as a confession. And damn, he did not expect you to cry and wipe your boogers all over your sleeve because you were so happy. Maybe he can get used to it.

Rook + Epel <3

⋆ You really know how to choose ‘em huh? Epel is literally at his wit's end. All you talk about is Rook and all Rook talks about is you. And both you have a very weird and honestly, freaky, way of saying how much you love each other. Out of the two, Epel would much rather listen to Rook, because at least Epel doesn’t understand a word that comes out of his baguette loving mouth. But you? Epel swears that once he gets home he’s going to get his meemaw to wash out all the filthy things you said about Rook and what you wanted him to do to you. He realizes he’d much rather listen to Vil nag him. Just give the poor boy a break!

⋆ Okay okay okay, he’s known since the beginning. He knows it all! It’s so fuckin creepy, but damn does that make things ten times easier. Rook is instantly sweeping you off your feet and into bed to make all the things you said come true. He’s a gentleman, what can he say? Rook loves that you like to brag about him, it’s just so beautiful knowing that you both want each other. He can just explode at the thought.

And he does…please interpret that however you like…

Lilia + Sebek <3

⋆ YOU TRULY ARE STUBBORN HUMAN!??!?!? Sebek is so fucking stingy about it. Like damn, okay you damn overgrown cucumber! Be stingy! Like that’s not going to stop you from getting laid. Does Sebek care though? No! Because he’s mean! Or more like, he doesn’t understand. But that's beside the point! Sebek will not let you get close to Lilia, not in his presence! What if you want to consume his mind and eat his brains?! Sebek can’t even imagine! Will fight you anytime and anywhere! Name the place, and he swears your ass is grass!

⋆ Okay, but alternatively, Sebek is a lot like how he was with Malleus and is all like ‘Yeah! Master Lilia is truly amazing! Human, you might actually be smart!’ and you’re just there with the widest grin because Sebek is your way to getting what you want(that being getting your guts rearranged). And everytime you come to him with the weirdest questions, Sebek merely bats his eyes and answers it without a second thought. Like ‘Of course, it’s big! It’s huge actually! Ginormous!...Eh, Human!? Why do you look ill?...Human, I haven't the slightest idea of what you could be referring to, but I was talking about his generosity. What else could there be that’s as big as his heart and wisdom?...tch, you better not get My Great Lord ill!”

⋆ Oh! How scandalous! You’re making him blush! Don’t you know it’s rude to make an old man’s heart want to burst? Literally cackles and gives you a big ass kiss. The things you do to this old man, like damn, he feels young again. Lilia is actually so funny about it because he wants to see you duel it out with Sebek for his hand, how lovely would that be? But also wants to whisk you away so you both can ‘game’ instead. Ugh, so many choices. Maybe he’ll let you both fight, so he can kiss your boo-boo’s away. How romantic!

Sebek do not question why I'm wobbling out of lilia’s room. Memories were made last night!

1K notes · View notes

sapphire-writes · 11 months

Text

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 2 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: Your first full day in King's Landing, and you get the lay of the land at the Kingsroad Country Club.

word count: 3.8k

detailed warning under the cut

warnings: language

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

note: as always, likes, comments, reblogs are greatly appreciated! Let me know what you think, if you'd like to be tagged, etc. 💙

A sharp knock on your door wakes you from the deepest sleep of your life. Baela has a way of knocking, but not knocking. By the second rap of her knuckles, she’s already opening the door and entering the room, clad in a baby blue tennis skirt and a matching top.

Her silver curls are held away from her face in a high ponytail as she sits on the edge of your bed.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” she tells you as you groan, pressing your face back into the softness of your pillow.

“This is the comfiest bed….I’ve ever slept in….in my whole life,” you tell her, your voice muffled by the pillow.

“That’s because you’ve been sleeping on a twin xl for the past five months,” she says snickering, poking your sides.

You try to roll away from her, burrowing deeper into the soft plush comforter.

“Whaaaa,” you moan, pushing her hands away.

“Come on, we have things to do,” she tells you.

With a groan, you roll over to face her.

“Where are we going?” you ask, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head.

“Kingsroad Country Club,” she tells you, “We’ll grab breakfast there with Rhae.”

She stands up moving to your closet.

“Bring a bathing suit,” she tells you, “The pool is amazing, we can see if anyone interested has come home for the summer.”

You raise an eyebrow at her as she paws through your clothes. You’d only just started to unpack the previous night, before giving in to the temptation of sleep. You couldn’t stop thinking about Baela’s stupid uncle either, which only made completing your task of unpacking more frustrating.

“Interesting?” you ask and she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“A summer fling never hurt anyone,” Baela teases.

“Okay, let’s do it,” you agree, and she shuts your closet door.

“Meet me downstairs!” she calls, closing the door behind her.

You quickly get dressed in a simple sundress and after a quick trip across the bay in Baela’s skiff, you dock outside of the Kingsroad Country Club.

You follow Baela’s lead after you make sure Moondancer is safely roped so she won’t drift back into Blackwater Bay. The country club is just as extravagant as everything else appears to be in King’s Landing. A woman smiles at you as you pass in front of the signup booth for the regatta. Baela leads you past the massive pool and toward the balcony as you arrive; it’s filled with white and blue umbrellas on glass tables, surrounded by white linen chairs.

The balcony overlooks several tennis courts, with several people engaged in singles and doubles matches. Further out you spot a golf course, acres of green grass as far as you can see.

“Breakfast here is bomb,” Baela tells you, “Seriously, the best Eggs Benedict I’ve ever had.”

As you sit for breakfast examining the menu, Baela continues to talk about all the fun things she has planned for this summer, while putting in an order of mimosas for the table. Rhaena joins a few moments later, in a heated conversation with Helaena.

“There’s no rush, right?” Helaena says to Rhaena as they sit.

“It’s a month away, of course, there’s a rush!” Rhaena says, taking a sip of the water provided.

“For what?” Baela asks.

“The auction? The gala?” Rhaena answers, “Please tell me you told Y/N about the gala.”

Baela glances at you sideways and Rhaena rolls her eyes.

“Okay perfect, so Hel and Y/N need outfits,” Rhaena sighs, “The club hosts a gala and an auction each year for the regatta, it's really fun! Families donate artifacts, art, stuff like that and spend a shit ton of money.”

A waiter stops by, delivering mimosas and taking your breakfast orders.

“It was fun maybe when we were like twelve,” Baela tells her, “It’s a fashion show. A night for our family to pretend they’re perfect.”

“You’re just mad Dad wants us to go together,” Rhaena scolds, frowning.

Baela clenches her jaw, narrowing her eyes at her twin.

“Exactly,” she answers, to Rhaena’s surprise, “Alicent doesn’t make her kids go, why should I be forced?”

“Oh my Mom forces us alright,” Helaena says smiling, “She was beyond pissed when Aegon and I skipped last year, I thought her head was going to explode. I’m going.”

“Why though?” Baela asks, groaning dramatically and slumping in her seat, “It’s medieval.”

“Because I want to wear a dress and look pretty,” Helaena says grinning, “Come on Bae, you’ll look like such a pretty princess.”

Helaena stretches her hand, poking Baela’s cheek causing you to chuckle. Helaena keeps sing-songing ‘pretty princess’ until Baela swats her hand away.

“Remember when we all wore those matching dresses? Talk about medieval,” Helaena snorted.

Rhaena spares a laugh then, biting her lip at the memory.

“Please, Bae?” she asks, “Plus, you have to let Y/N experience it, it’s a magical night.”

Baela glances at you and you shrug nonchalantly.

“I polish up real nice,” you tell her.

“Don’t quote Taylor Swift to me,” she groans, but a smile appears on her lips, “Okay fine.”

Rhaena squeals and claps her hands together.

“So…no to the matching dresses or….?” Helaena asks, answered by a unanimous chorus of no.

A whistle startles you from your conversation as Aegon jogs over to your table, sunglasses dangling off his nose, violet eyes peering over the edge. He arrives just as the waiter returns with your food, distributing your plates.

“Ladies,” he muses, placing his hands on the back of Helaena’s chair and leaning forward.

“Go away,” Baela tells him, causing him to pout, “You’re ruining my meal.”

“I come bearing gifts,” he says, pulling a joint from where it was hidden in his hair.

He holds it out between his fingers before Helaena reaches up, snatching it from him and placing it behind her own ear.

“Thanks,” she tells him, and he hums.

“Happy to be of service,” he says, snatching a triangle of toast from her plate.

“Fucking vulture!” she hisses, swatting him as he hurries away.

“Where’s he off to?” Rhaena muses.

“Probably skulking around the pool looking for an unsuspecting girl with low self-esteem,” Helaena says, rolling her eyes.

Your eyes follow Aegon who does not head toward the pool but instead down the steps toward the tennis courts. As you see who’s waiting for him you can’t help but roll your eyes. Aemond twirls a racket in his hand, clad in three-quarter-length green tennis shorts accentuating the muscles of his thighs.

He wears a simple white t-shirt molded to his torso. You assume he’s already played a set, as a man with dark hair leaves the court, patting Aegon on the shoulder as he takes his place. Aemond takes a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow, revealing the v-line that disappears down his shorts. He runs a hand through his silver hair; it's kept shorter on the sides, and a bit longer on the top accentuating his sharp features.

Aegon says something to his brother, and Aemond meets your gaze. You scowl before looking away, not missing the satisfied smirk that appears on Aemond’s face at your reaction. Your cheeks flush and you take a sip of your mimosa trying to hide your annoyance.

“What is his problem?” you mumble, as Baela sips her mimosa.

“Who?” Rhaena asks, following your gaze, “Oh-”

“You got off on the wrong foot, that’s all,” Helaena tells you, “But he’ll warm up. Aemond takes a while to defrost.”

“A while? Try years,” Baela says chuckling, “Seriously you’re good, Y/N. Don’t even worry about it.”

You chew on your lower lip, anxiety swirling in your stomach.

“I feel like I said something wrong last night,” you tell them, “I pissed him off somehow.”

The cousins exchange glances before Rhaena sighs, accepting that she’ll be the person to spill the dirty details. You raise your eyebrows at her, expectantly.

“So your sailor comment, about Luke?” Rhaena says, jogging your memory.

You nod, wordlessly encouraging her to continue.

“Luke and Aemond have history,” she begins, somewhat beating around the bush, “It’s kind of complicated-”

“It’s not,” Baela interrupts, “Look, our family is a soap opera, right? Well for the longest time, they tried to make us all get along, force us to do like ‘family bonding activities’ and it came back to bite them in the ass.”

Tension hangs in the air as she speaks, and you sense they haven’t told you an essential piece of information.

“I’m not following,” you tell them.

The twins glance at Helaena, who sighs while running a hand through her hair.

“There was an accident. A boating accident, Luke didn’t do what he was supposed to, and…” she trails off, “Aemond lost his eye because of it.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe, your heart falling into your stomach.

“It wasn’t his fault, I mean we were all kids, and my dad, he never thought things through, ever,” Helaena says sighing, “We were just kids. If it's anyone’s fault it was his.”

Panic bubbles in your throat, heat rising to your face as you glance back at the tennis court. You hear the smack of the tennis ball against his racket as Aemond swings, making Aegon sprint to the opposite side to try and catch the ball.

“I had no idea, fuck,” you begin, “Shit, I should say something.”

Helaena shakes her head.

“Don’t worry about it,” she tells you, “I mean, you can try, but Aemond’s pretty closed off.”

“Aemond’s been a dick since we were kids,” Baela tells you.

But you feel like you have to. Aemond had been a dick to you, but you hadn’t meant to poke at a wound. You’d say something.

Daeron and Luke run by quickly, both clad in swim trunks, speaking rapidly about something while hunched around Daeron’s iPhone. Rhaena frowns, taking a sip from her mimosa as they make a beeline toward the regatta sign-up booth.

“Daeron!” Helaena calls, waving them over.

The boys stop, not looking up, but head toward the table.

“What’re you doing?” Helaena asks, rising from her seat and reaching for her brother’s phone.

“Give it Hel!” Daeron says, but Helaena is quicker, with years of practice being surrounded by brothers.

She glances at the screen, eyebrows furrowing together before she rolls her violet eyes.

“Not this again,” she comments as Daeron snatches the phone, his ears turning red.

“We need it!”

“You say that every year!” Helaena teases.

“Need what?” you ask.

“Every year, they go on a treasure hunt, for Aegon the Conqueror's lost ruby crown,” Helaena tells you.

“Who’s Aegon the Conqueror?” you ask.

“Some dickhead who thought he was discovering King’s Landing but instead ruined the lives of the indigenous people who were here before him,” Baela tells you.

“He had a cool crown though,” Luke comments, “And if we find it, it’s good luck for the regatta.”

“You don’t need luck,” Rhaena tells him, “You’ve spent nearly all your free time on Arrax, you have this in the bag.”

Luke gives her a pained expression, his cheeks turning pink at her praise.

“I guess so,” he tells her.

Baela blows a raspberry, ruffling Luke’s hair. He makes a noise of protest, quickly trying to fix the mess she’s made.

“You know Arrax like the back of your hand,” she confirms, “You got this.”

“They’re right, dude,” Daeron comments, “It’s all good.”

“Says the person who doesn’t have to do it,” Luke says.

Daeron shrugs.

“Blame my mom. I don’t get why I have to visit Uncle Ormund,” Daeron groans, “Oldtown is so fucking boring.”

“Why doesn’t she make Aemond go?” Luke asks.

“Because he’s mom’s favorite,” Daeron answers immediately, earning a slap on the back of the head from Helaena, “OW!”

“Mom doesn’t have favorites,” Helaena insists as Daeron punches her in the arm.

He flinches as Helaena smacks him again, yelling and scrambling away from her. Luke laughs at the sight and you can’t help but giggle as well. Helaena seems so dreamy, with her head in the clouds, but she’s tough having grown up among three brothers.

Rhaena grabs Helaena’s glass, moving it out of the way as Daeron twists her arm, causing her to bump into the table.

“You little shit!” she yelps, stomping on his foot.

Daeron releases her with a pained gasp, hopping out of reach. Luke tugs his shoulder, directing him toward the sign-up booth.

“Assholes,” Helaena mutters, falling back into her seat.

You can’t help but giggle at their antics. You watch as they make it to the sign-ups, crouching over the sheet to write their names. You smile at the boys. If there is still tension between the sides of the family, at least Luke and Daeron seem to get along. And you’re really liking Helaena.

“You provoked him,” Rhaena teases and Helaena’s mouth drops open, “Kidding!”

Helaena puts on her sunglasses before taking a bite of her eggs.

“What are your plans for the day?” she asks, through a mouthful.

Baela makes a face before answering.

“I’m thinking we will keep today pretty chill. Drinks by the pool, maybe visit the spa. Oh! And we have to rent you a racket,” Baela says smiling.

“For what?” you ask.

“Tennis, dummy!” Baela says, rolling her eyes, “Rich kid special, I’m going to teach you the sport we were all forced to.”

“Five summers of tennis camp,” Rhaena says grimacing, “Another family bonding experience where we all nearly murdered each other.”

“This family is strangely fucking competitive,” Helaena agrees, nodding.

You laugh and continue eating your breakfast. Helaena and Rhaena promise to join you later on but disappear as you make your way to the pool.

“Baela!” the woman at the regatta sign-up calls as you and Baela walk past.

Baela stops, smiling begrudgingly at the woman. Though she’s wearing a sun hat, the bridge of her nose is red from the sun. She smiles as you and Baela approach.

“Hey Mrs. Redwyne,” Baela says politely.

“I was curious if you’re planning on entering this year?” Mrs. Redwyne asks, motioning to the sign-up sheet.

“Oh no, not this year,” Baela says, shaking her head, “I think my dad might, but I’m just trying to have a relaxing summer.”

“I see,” Mrs. Redyne says, eyes flickering to someone else who approaches.

“Are you signing up?” Luke says, panting as though he booked it back over to the booth.

“Chill,” Baela tells him, “No I’m just looking.”

It seems Mrs. Redwyne lost interest after Baela told her she wasn’t competing. Baela nudges your arm, nodding towards the pool, just as a group of guys joins you at the booth.

“Hey Bae,” a curly-haired boy says, leaning down to the sign-ups.

He wets his lips, signing his name in a quick flourish.

“Didn’t realize you were home,” he says, handing the pen back to Mrs. Redwyne.

He stands straight and smiles, flashing rows of pearly white teeth.

“Who’s your friend?” the curly-haired boy asks, peering around Baela to look at you.

You meet his warm, brown eyes, blushing at his stare. Whoever he is, he’s handsome.

“My roommate, best friend,” Baela says, introducing you, “She’s staying for the summer.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says, shaking your hand and smiling, “I’m Will.”

“Y/N,” you tell him, returning his smile.

He smiles like a politician trying to win votes; it’s sweet, disarming. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, and your stomach does flip-flops. Not a totally unpleasant feeling.

“You gonna compete?” he asks, nodding to the sign-ups.

“Me? No, I don’t really sail. I’ll be cheering Luke from the sidelines,” you tell him.

“Damn, already chosen a side, I respect that,” he says, crossing his arms, “Though I bet I can change your mind.”

“How so?” you ask, surprised at your flirtatious tone.

It’s easy, here in King’s Landing. You don’t really know anyone, you’ve got nothing to lose.

“Reigning champs, last three years,” he not so subtly brags, “The Golden Rose is undefeated.”

“Impressive,” you tell him, nodding in appreciation.

“Hardly,” a familiar voice drolls from behind you.

Aemond walks by, Aegon by his side. They’d finished their set, both sweaty and glistening in the morning sun. A shame they’re dicks. They’re undoubtfully hot as fuck. It seems the worst guys always are. Aemond’s eye flickers between you and Will, lip curling upwards in a sneer.

“Are you finally competing?” Will asked, eyes widening, “If I remember correctly, you’re not that fond of sailing.”

Aemond shrugs, and Will chuckles nervously.

“Dude, do you even have a boat?” he asks, causing his friends to chuckle in response.

“We’ve got Sunfyre,” Aegon tells him, “Beautiful, my girl is.”

“Bro,” Will says, placing a hand over his heart, “You’d compete against me?”

“We’re not competing,” Aemond says before Aegon can answer, “Though if we were, it wouldn’t be much of a challenge.”

Aemond’s gaze travels to Luke when he says the last part. Luke shies away from his uncle’s gaze, the tips of his ears reddening. You bite your tongue, turning back to Will.

“I’d like to see your boat,” you tell him, desperate to release some of the tension.

Will smiles, brown eyes returning to yours.

“It’s a date,” he tells you, “Can I get your number?”

You nod and he hands you his phone. You quickly plug in the digits.

“Just so you know, my loyalties still lie with Luke,” you tell him cheekily.

Will laughs at that.

“We’ll see,” he says, taking his phone, “Nice meeting you, Y/N.”

“Likewise,” you tell him.

Will and his friends leave toward the golf course, several of them clasping him on the back. You can’t help but blush. A little summer fling could go a long way. And he is cute.

Aegon shakes his head, moving towards the bar, but Aemond stays put. Baela juts out her lower lip, humming appreciatively.

“Y’know, for once I think Aegon has the right idea,” she muses, “I’ll grab drinks and meet you by the pool?”

“Sounds good,” you tell her, and she’s off.

You figure now is as good a time as any to apologize for the previous night. You steady yourself, pulling back your shoulders, but Aemond speaks first.

“Will Tyrell,” he says, shaking his head, “Figures.”

You arch an eyebrow at him.

“The fuck does that mean?” you ask, crossing your arms.

Aemond smirks.

“Figures you’d be into pretty boys,” he says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

“If that were true I’d be into you,” you snap, eyes widening realizing what you’ve said.

Aemond raises his brows, his smirk only growing.

“Which I’m not,” you anxiously clarify.

His seeing eye narrows and suddenly he’s looking at you differently, his head tilting to the side slightly as he looks you up and down. You turn your head, looking towards the bar. Baela’s still there, leaning forward and chatting with the bartender as he starts the blender.

“Course,” Aemond says, beginning to walk away.

You bite your lip. Fucking always putting your foot in your mouth.

“Wait!” you call and he turns, “I just…about last night.”

Aemond purses his lips, holding a hand up to stop you.

“Don’t,” he says, beginning to turn away.

“But-”

“Seriously,” he warns and continues walking before disappearing into the clubhouse.

But you’re determined, and you follow him inside despite your feet wanting to take you in the opposite direction. You walk into a ballroom, and see Aemond across the room grabbing a water bottle from a fully stocked table.

You head towards him but are stopped by a familiar face.

“Hi!” Floris says smiling, ear to ear, “Are you signing anything up for the auction?”

Your breath leaves your lungs seeing her and you struggle to find your words.

“Um…I…no,” you tell her, shaking your head.

Floris looks at you questioningly.

“Okay, well if you change your mind, we’re here to register items daily from 11-3,” she says, motioning to a table beside her.

“Thanks,” you tell her, moving toward Aemond.

“Hey!” you call, catching his attention.

Aemond looks at you, releasing a deep, exasperated sigh.

This motherfucker.

“Look, I’m sorry if I said something to offend you,” you begin, “Not my intention, and you don’t have to worry about ever interacting with me again.”

“Sounds far-fetched,” he comments, sipping his water.

“What?” you ask incredulously.

This man is giving you a headache.

“You’re staying with my family, we’re bound to run into each other,” he tells you, violet eyes aglow as if he’s enjoying the argument.

“Well I’ll do my best to stay out of your way,” you tell him, “You should do the same.”

“Should I?” he ponders, “You’re awfully demanding.”

You squint at him, jaw slacking in shock. Aemond’s lip curls into a smirk. You breathe in, ready to retaliate, but release a breathy laugh instead.

“You know what? Okay,” you tell him, pressing your lips together in a tight line.

You turn away from him, retreating the way you came. Floris watches you depart, her eyes flickering from Aemond to you, a sour expression on her pretty face. You smile politely at her as you pass, which she does not return.

You frown. Even trying to be nice comes back to bite you. Sheesh. You hear Baela call your name as you return to the outside deck and she holds two glasses filled with a pink slush and decorated with little umbrellas. You sigh, before putting on your sunglasses and making your way over to her.

After you head back to Driftmark for an afternoon nap, you plan to grab dinner at Dragonstone, but the weather does not cooperate (much to Baela’s delight).

“Oh no,” she dramatically pouts, watching the rain splash against the glass of her window.

Rhaenys frowns at her, and Baela smiles innocently.

“Call your father,” she tells Baela, “It’s not safe to be out on the water in this weather.”

“Tell them that,” you say, nodding to the lights you see in the bay.

Someone thinks it’s a good idea to be sailing. You can’t really see who it is, can’t make out anything except one larger sailboat, barely rocked by the choppy surf, while a smaller counterpart is being jolted around by the waves.

“Unwise to be out in this weather,” Rhaenyrs murmurs, as lightning cracks through the sky, illuminating the bay.

“That kind of looks like…” Baela’s sentence trails off, softly.

Baela squints and then shrugs, giving up on trying to identify the boats. The loud sounds of thunder shake the very foundations of High Tide, the splatter of rain lulling you into a dreamless sleep later that night.

The destroyed remains of Luke Velaryon’s ship would not be discovered until early the following morning.

note: what is it about me and cliffhangers?? I just like to keep you guessing, I suppose 😘 LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU ALL!

OLS Taglist: @talesofoldandnew, @diannnnsss, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @atherverybest, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @moonlightfoxx

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #modern!aemond #modern!hotd #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x female reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #aemond/reader #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond fic #aemond targaryen fic

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simpforboys · 1 year

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Hi there! I have a request for Xavier Thorpe or Tyler Galpin if you are interested! Basically an Addams!reader in which she is the complete opposite of Wednesday, not because she's sunshine and rainbows, she's still an Addams after all, but she takes after their dad. Excitable about pain and murder and torture with a flair for the dramatics

just like your dad

xavier thorpe x fem!addams!reader

summary: xavier and you share a bond for art. while your styles are different, you share experiences.

warnings: fluff, swearing, you’re goth

works for blood related or adopted, no physical descriptions

i made the reader draw (idk why, when i was writing it just flowed to me) so sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted, i tried lol!!

ever since you and your sister, wednesday, had arrived at nevermore, there has been very different experiences.

while wednesday tended to be emotionless, full of hatred, yet somehow caring deep under her dead stare. you were passionate, expressed yourself, and family oriented.

seeing the way your father cherished and treated your mother has had a huge impact on you ever since you were little.

he would always go out of his way for your mother. he would kill for her, he would die for her, and he would live for her.

and you wanted to experience that same kind of love.

you kept an open mind at nevermore. after all, they did have a ton of students and a fencing program that you immediately joined.

your father had taught you, wednesday, and pugsley the fine arts of torture and pain from a very young age.

it was something you all had taken a liking too, but for you it drove deeper then just pain. it was more what pain could do on a psychological level, how it can mentally mess someone up for good.

and despite wednesday and her stone-cold self that she inherited from your mother, you had also taken on your father’s dramatic personality.

that’s why you easily made friends at nevermore. people liked being around you, especially xavier thorpe.

it wasn’t a lie to anyone that he found you enticing. you were gorgeous, unafraid, and most of all… different.

different in a sense that while others tended to shy away, you would stick up despite the judgement you could face. different in a way that drove xavier insane, and he needed to be around you constantly or else he felt like a part of him was missing.

“what are you up to, y/n?” xavier raised his eyebrows in confusion as you sat on a nearby bench that overlooked the quad of nevermore.

you peered up at him, showing him your sketch. you had drawn everyone in the quad with an explosion in the middle.

“what’s that for?” xavier asked, sitting next to you.

“just a thought i had, staring off at the crowd. isn’t explosions fun?” you smiled at the boy.

“watch..” xavier took his hand and held it over your drawing.

you watched in anticipation as the drawing you had done began to come to life. the little explosion blew up, causing everyone to come flying backwards.

“oh my…” you trailed off. xavier smiled at your excitement.

“do you want to come see my little get away?”

➽─────────────────❥

there wasn’t a silent moment on the way to xavier’s art shed.

you were blurting out ideas you had, and xavier just listened. he loved hearing you talk about things you were passionate about.

“when i was little, my father taught us all the importance of family. he was devastated when my uncle fester disappeared, but my mom was there to help him through it.”

“seeing love in a beautifully sickening way, it made me crave it. i want to be pursued like that.”

xavier stared at you. he felt his stomach ache as the two of you made it to his art shed.

“y/n-”

“what’s this?” you accidentally interrupted him.

xavier, now embarrassed, began to unlock his shed.

“you’re not going to kill me, right?” you looked at the boy.

“what? no-”

“shame.”

xavier stared at you in shock as you entered his little getaway. you looked around the small shed, artwork depicted everywhere.

“is this where you draw?”

“draw, paint, think. basically.”

xavier nervously watched as you inspected each painting carefully.

“what’s this?”

you pointed to a sketch that was you.

“that’s uh- nothing.” xavier quickly shut the sketch book. his tall frame was now extremely close to you.

“do you draw me, xavier?” you stared up at him through your lashes.

it was a new feeling inside of you, and you couldn’t tell what. but the way he had portrayed you in such a beautiful way, it made your heart… flutter?

you could see the embarrassment on his face. his cheeks tinted red and he avoided your gaze.

you suddenly were aware of the cologne he was wearing. the scent filled your nostrils as his big hand covered the sketch.

“you don’t need to be embarrassed. i’m quite a piece of art, huh?” you couldn’t help but tease him.

xavier smiled at you.

“look.”

you opened your own notebook and showed him the sketches you’ve drawn. not as well as xavier’s, but the creativity behind each one was evident.

there was a reoccurring theme of pain and torture behind each one that should’ve frightened xavier, but it only made him more insightful.

“is your mom and dad into all this stuff?”

you peered up at xavier.

“my father showed us all from a young age the beauty of pain and torture. i tend to focus on the physiological level rather then physical, unlike my sister.”

“you really are just like your dad, huh?” xavier started to tease you now.

“you could say that. i definitely take after him more than my mother.”

“can i help you with your sketch work?”

you hesitantly nodded. xavier grabbed his stool and sat down, you standing very close to him.

his knee would bump into your leg every time he moved. the motion was enough to send shocks into both your bodies.

xavier flipped through your notebook.

“the overall creativity is amazing. it really allows me to see what goes on inside your head, which is what art is supposed to represent. but the line-work could use some help.”

you watched him carefully, not noticing the way your eyes stared at his veiny hands.

with the flip of another page, xavier landed on the drawing you had completely forgotten about.

it was you, at the weathervane, smiling wide as you sat across from a boy who looked identical to xavier. to make matters even worse, there were little hearts above the two of you.

now it was your turn to be embarrassed as xavier looked up at you, a giant smirk on his face.

“thing must have drawn that-“

“oh yeah? because the way the lines connect is just like the other drawings.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“how about you let me take you out to the weathervane?”

“like a-“

“date. a date.”

you stared directly into xavier’s blue eyes. his gaze was intimidating and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared.

“fine.”

#xavier thorpe x you #xavier x y/n #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe fluff #wednesday addams #the addams family #addams!reader #percy hynes white #percy #wedensday #xavier fluff #xavier x reader #simpforboys

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brandnewhuman · 1 year

Text

BEHOLD THE MALEWIFE

Again

♡ part 2 of random hc ♡

☆ starring ☆

König aka my beloved giant unfairly underrated and overlooked

Tw: mature language, mentions of anxiety, tiny bit of angst like you have to squint really hard

A/N: first i have to thank @bloodlst for giving me so many ideas and for dealing with me and my endless rants about this absolutely scrunkly babe. I SHOULD BE DOING REQUESTS AND YET HERE I AM WRITING FOR A MAN I'VE KNOWN FOR NO MORE THAN A WEEK OR SO. Media is ruining my chances at a normal relationship fr ANYWAY ENJOY

Listen this fucker is the definition of disney Prince when he gets comfortable enough around you

Everytime he talks about his s/o instead of saying you're his he says that he's yours

He feels like it's not as intimate and accurate as he really feels around you to say that you're his

And BTW he brags about you and your public displays of affection to everyone and anyone

Bro has not an ounce of embarrassment in showing he loves you and you love him

He's so charming and smooth but with that sprinkle of awkwardness that makes him ridiculously adorable

He is quite literally a gentleman and worships the ground you walk

In general he's very respectful and lovely with everyone

That's why he tends to like make people crush on him

Which he totally doesn't notice like ever, this man can and will think they're just being overly nice out of pity

He is literally so good at dancing, like it's almost annoying

One could think that him being so tall would make him really stiff and awkward when dancing but he's not

He's as graceful and elegant as ever

Is the only time he gets confident and shows off a little bit his physical appearance

He definitely prefers more elegant dances like waltz and tango ecc

JUST IMAGINE, JUST IMAGINE WHAT DANCE THE TANGO WITH KÖNIG WOULD DO TO YOU.

He has a really hard time at being funny cause he always worries that maybe his jokes are not obvious enough or that he's just straight up not funny

Like he has a shit ton of puns and jokes in his head but says none of them cause he doesn't really knows if people will get it and it's scared of coming off as weird

Most of the jokes are dirty jokes BTW, this man is an absolute child and is making deez nuts jokes left to right inside the confines of his really strange mind

Has really large hands, like not quite big but really long fingers and they're slightly crooked AND EVERYONE WHO HAS LONG FINGERS CAN CONFIRM YOUR FINGIES GET CROOKED

ALSO ALSO when he buys a new phone he doesn't even cares about it being good or not

BRO BUYS THE BIGGEST FUCKING PHONE EVER. HE HATES SMALL PHONES WITH ALL HIS SOUL

He has premature grey hairs. Like he has starting to get them when he was really young

Which ends up in him always having to dye his hair

He loves to go to get groceries

Like he actively gets excited about new products or new things to buy and overall he just enjoys how relaxing and calming is to go to the supermarket

I feel like he's one of those people who are really good at card games like poker ecc

He either ends up broke af cause everyone is merciless with him or he's unbelievably lucky and ends up winning every hand but doesn't takes the money cause he feels bad

It really depends on the day

With board games tho he's definitely a sore loser

Like have you seen how pissy and sarcastic he gets in the game sometimes? You can not tell me this man doesn't hates losing at monopoly

Me and my fellow könig simp @bloodlst have come to the conclusion that he has an involuntary resting bitch face

The fact is that as I said before he clenched his jaw almost always due to anxiety which makes him look like really scary but insanely hot

The moment you make him smile tho it's like you're witnessing some sort of shapeshift witchery

HE HAS THE KINDEST SMILE EVER

He has gone through the most traumatising injuries ever but never seems to notice (?)

Like he has big ass scars in his body and when someone asks about them he tells the story all chill as if he's not talking about him getting fucked up in every possible way

and he like never realises how serious his injuries are in the eyes of everyone else so he's always so confuse as why everyone looks so concern

He chooses his words wisely cause he values the meaning of certain words and doesn't likes to use them lightly

Like he tries not to tell his s/o I love you too lightly or too much cause he wants the phrase to always feels as special as it is for him and not something you said just because

And about that when he's arguing with someone he never says anything he does not mean

That means he will say 100% the truth even if it hurts

That doesn't mean that if he realises he's wrong he won't apologise

He will and will genuinely own his mistakes and take responsibility without using excuses

Like I said before könig is not one who gets angry easily

He has unwavering patience and deals with things very rationally

Like he is used to people treating him as if he was dumb, bullying him and just overall making him feel like bad about his anxiety or himself so it's not surprising he can handle people bring arses very well

He gets upset but always hides it really well

When he does gets mad tho he is going to make you cry

Any filter or shyness goes away and he just snaps and gets really mean really fast

Mean because although he's being honest, he's particularly brutal about it and says things as harsh as possible

But like I said is really hard for him to get that angry

The most that one can do to him is force him to politely excuse himself to go somewhere else and cry it out

He's a really sensitive person and most often than not he just gets sad, he won't stay sad for long but when he does he feels like absolute shit

The things that make him go absolutely apeshit is mostly when people mistreat his loved ones or when people take advantage of someone weaker than them like they used to do with him

When he was younger he used to have a lot of anger issues

He used to feel frustrated all the time with how unfair everyone was with him because of his anxiety

Never got into physical fights but would end up snapping and saying really hurtful things to people he loved

That's why now he tries to be careful with words

He's very proud of the person he has become in some way

He has come a long way and now he's a healthier person than he used to be

He forgives but never forgets even tho he's not the type of person to use past mistakes against someone

He just keeps in mind the thing that had happened and if he doesn't sees any change then he just acts consequently

Hates mint flavour beverages or ice cream and can't understand why people enjoy it so much

I don't know why but I feel like he grow up with his grandparents

He absolutely loved his grandma and used to call her almost everyday

When he buys clothes he doesn't really care about the brand ecc he likes to buys what makes him feel confident or good

Not even what others might like or stuff like that nono

He just buys whatever his funky brain finds pretty

And surprisingly it leads to him having a really good style

#könig cod headcanons #könig #könig cod #könig cod mw2 #könig x reader #codmw2 #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty

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its-time-to-write · 8 months

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hello i have a request for an idea i literally cannot get out of my head: jamie and a partner who is really into knitting/crocheting and they knit him something as a gift and the fluffiness that ensues xxx

this was a v cute ask!! Here you go!

glitter on the floor

Knitting is a luxury, something you only do when you have a good chunk of time set aside. You’ll pull out a project while watching a movie and each time without fail, Jamie Tartt will give you puppy dog eyes and ask, “Is that for me?”

It never is.

That’s because you’ve been working on something for him for Christmas, and you’re pretty sure it’s your best work yet.

You and Jamie are planning on having a tiny Christmas celebration, just the two of you, before he’s off to Manchester and you’re on a plane to your parents. You’re going to put on matching pajamas and sit by the Christmas tree and eat a shit-ton of snacks, because you’re both adults who can do what you want, and what you want to do is gorge yourselves on everything you definitely shouldn’t have.

So here you are, a week before Christmas, all cozy at home exchanging gifts and giggling about what comes after presents, which may may not be a variation of sexy Christmas that you stole from Keeley.

“Open this one next,” you say, handing Jamie a particularly interesting package.

You’re grinning, but there’s something sinister in your eyes. Jamie’s not sure what to make of it because it’s Christmas, or at least it almost is, so why are you looking at him like a cat that just ate the family goldfish?

He hesitantly takes the proffered package, perfectly wrapped in forest green with a bright white bow. He unwraps it carefully, sets the ribbon aside, and opens a box to reveal-

A sweater.

He exhales a little. Oh good, it’s just a sweater. But your eyes are still gleaming so he’s sure there’s more to it, especially because you’re practically vibrating from the effort of keeping yourself from laughing.

Jamie pulls the sweater from the box and it unfolds, revealing the fact that it is a couple sizes too large for him. But you’ve obviously made it so he’s going to like it anyway.

“Turn it around,” you say before he can give you his appreciation. Jamie complies, to reveal words stitched to the front in flowing script.

this is our Get Along sweater

“Ask me what it’s for,” you command gleefully and Jamie’s pretty sure he’s never seen you this silly, so he bites.

“Alright, what the fuck is this for?” he asks, matching your grin.

You have to bite back a laugh. “Ok so remember how we talked about you being an only child? But I had siblings and our parents had to figure out creative ways to discipline us? One of the ways was a ‘get-along’ shirt. The two of us who were fighting had to wear the same shirt until we got over it. Sometimes it took like three or four hours. And one time, my mom managed to get three of us in one. It was hilarious.”

“Sounds like,” says Jamie. “Doubt you were in it very often. So is this for you and me, then?”

You sniff. “As if. Putting on clothes never solves our arguments. It’s for you and Roy.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s saying, “Fucking hell,” and you’re in stitches.

“I already told Ted about it,” you manage to gasp out. “I’m really only showing it to you right now, because I’m dropping it off at Nelson Road as soon as the holiday is over.”

“Christ,” is all Jamie can come up with. His only consolation is that he can’t imagine how Ted could force him and Roy into this sweater. He might be more susceptible to caving, but Roy? No way.

(In this moment, Jamie overlooks Roy’s fondness for you, as well as Ted’s extreme stubbornness when it comes to enforcing new policies he just made up.)

Ted sends you a photo of the sweater in action a week after they return.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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boydepartment · 6 months

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@ iluvmygf - profiles: ur an idiot x 7

description: nishimura riki is a headache to his managers. as much as he loves being an idol and as much as he loves that he gets the freedom to travel. he hates that he can’t show you off. publicly… as himself… so he makes a twitter account called @ iluvmygf at first not a lot of people follow it. it goes unnoticed, for a few weeks. until it doesn’t. his account about you goes viral… and people are nosy as to who loves their gf so much to constantly post about her.

genre: romcom, crack, humor, something fun and lighthearted like a hallmark movie. it’s also set from november-february bc i said so and i want a christmas ark 😋🫶 this is an smau

warnings: cursing, most likely crude humor, probably kms jokes

SEVEN IDIOTS- seven boys who met during training and i-land. seven idiots who always depend on eachother and are the closet thing to brothers. seven boys fated to be best friends.

nishimura riki’s(05) accounts

nishimura riki, LOVES his gf. and wants to appreciate her every second of everyday. to him, she makes idol life a little easier. even if he misses her like crazy sometimes. he loves his job and his work, he couldn’t be more proud to say he’s an idol. but riki is more proud to have the title as y/n’s bf.

iluvmygf is riki’s special account on twitter where he can openly love his gf. enhypen’s managers don’t know about the account and if they did they would probably kill him. (riki was turned down to announce his relationship)

lee heeseung’s(01) account

you know how people say, the nerd is an undercover thot? this is not true for heeseung. on stage he is an absolute thot, offstage, he wouldn’t be caught dead talking to ANYONE he’s attracted to. he is a certified loser outside of idol life. (has not had a partner since jack the ripper was roaming)

jay park’s(02) account

can you guys come to the dining room

jake sim’s(02) account

remember what i said about heeseung? jake is the opposite. he seems goofy and a nerd. this man is a thot on and off stage. which is why he cannot keep a gf for the life of him. he has a heart of gold but the thotness and hotness scares the girls away.

park sunghoon’s(02) account

everyone thank sunghoon. he is the reality check. he is the ground. he is THE HUMBLER. sunghoon is the guy everyone goes to when they need sense snapped into them. (bad with women(hasn’t had a gf since the stone age))

kim sunoo’s(03) account

kim sunoo is the man riki goes to when shit hits the fan. however recently sunoo has been super busy with something he hasn’t been telling anyone :( which unfortunately means riki has to go to thotatron 3000

yang jungwon’s(04) account

jungwon. is the overlooker. the overlord. the LEADER. which also means he was scolding riki for his iluvmygf account. jungwon tries to pretend it doesn’t exist 🫶 other than that he tries to get through life even with bangchan as his sleep paralysis demon.

___

MASTERLIST

taglist- open :)

@yourmomscuntis2tighy @yannew @wzy3ka @stellarpsh @czlluvriki @im-yn-suckers @owotalks @filmofhybe @skepvids @ocyeanicc @amymyli @imsodazed @rikislady @j-wyoung @bangchansbangers @sassyfanlawyergarden @miko1ly @itsactuallylina @haewonluvr @entenen @cb97mylove @jxp1-t3r @ineedaherosavemeenow @str4wb3rizz

comment, dm, send an ask, or reblog to be added :) i try to keep up with tag lists however i get a ton of notifications everyday so please lmk if i forget you

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lara-cairncross · 28 days

Note

Oh my word!! I love your Fairy Donnie so much!!! Quick question, how is he around the other fairies? Like, how do they treat him?

I’m so glad to hear you like him!!! Donnie’s honestly the one I’m having the most fun drawing for this AU, so expect more of him :DD

I haven’t totally outlined everything yet, but as far as how the other fairies treat Donnie… I’d say he’s respected as a Tinkerer, but usually pretty overlooked? Leo and him are twins in this au (which I cannot WAIT to draw), but because Leo was born with a more flashy talent (fast-flying) and an undamaged wing, he tends to get a lot more attention than Donnie does. Most of the recognition Donnie gets comes from how innovative and intelligent he is with his Tinkering, but the downside of that is that he gets overworked a LOT. There’s a reason I keep drawing him so tired!! Poor guy doesn’t get a break from work!!!

Thank you so much for asking! I’m having a ton of fun answering questions about this silly little au 💜💜$^^$

#fairy au #rottmnt fairy au

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smileypansy · 8 months

Text

let them nap / l.mk

pairing: mark x female!reader

synopsis: your boyfriend, Mark (and the rest of NCT) are all severely overworked, and the company does not seem to care. so you take things into your own hands

word count: 1.2k

a/n: this is an excuse to write down everything I would like to tell sm. f u sm <3 also the ceo does not get to have a name

You have been dating Mark for a year. Over the past year, you have been spending a lot more time around the SM building, usually watching rehearsals or just in Mark’s studio as he works.

It’s no secret that NCT, and especially Mark, are overworked. Czennies have been pointing that out for years, and the company has done nothing but add on to their busy schedules.

Since you started dating Mark, you have made it your mission to make sure he sleeps and eats enough, which is way harder than it sounds. Getting that man to take a break is borderline impossible. He would never take a break while they were still in the middle of working, and there was no gap in their schedule for the foreseeable future.

Which is what led you to your current situation.

Sitting in the small waiting area outside of the CEO’s office. Ready to give him a piece of your mind. But keeping yourself calm enough to rationally explain your concerns about your friends.

Of course there was a part of you that was very nervous about this whole “confrontation”, but the other part knew that he couldn’t do anything to you. He had no control over you or your life so you were safe. And he wouldn’t punish Mark for anything you said because, frankly, he makes the company a shit-ton of money.

So many thoughts were running through your head that you almost didn’t notice the secretary standing directly in front of you.

“You can go in now.”

“Thank you,” and you made your way into the office. And it all suddenly felt way more real.

The CEO is sitting at his desk, an entire wall of windows behind him. He is sitting with his hands folded on top of his lap, overlooking his very large and quite empty office.

“Y/N. It’s nice to see you.” “You too, sir,” you said, sitting in a chair opposite him.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

You awkwardly clear your throat. Now, actually being here, you are very unsure how to start this conversation.

“They need a break,” you suddenly blurt out, shocking yourself as well as the CEO.

He leans forward, across the desk, making direct eye contact with you, that you are determined to hold.

“What?”

“They need a break,” you said, more sure. More steady. “NCT. They haven’t had a break in so long. They are just doing comeback after comeback. Tour after tour. Promotions after promotions. While still doing rehearsals. And recordings. And other projects. And doing that for multiple sub -units? Or solo? It’s too much. They're all overworked and exhausted. Everyone can see it. I can. I know you can. The fans can. And they have told you as much. And you have consistently ignored that. The members would never tell you this but they need some time off. So if me coming here is what it takes for you to understand then well, here I am. They all really need a nap,” You let out a deep breath after your ranting, now noticing how loud you had gotten towards the end. “Sorry,” you said, regaining your composure.

“What for?”

“Yelling.”

The CEO settled back in his chair. Sighing deeply, staring at you. “I appreciate your honesty. And I will take your concerns into consideration.”

“Thank you for your time,” you said, getting up, giving a quick bow, and leaving.

What were the odds of him actually taking what you said into consideration? It honestly seemed unlikely. But at least you tried, right?

While you were in the building, you figured you could at least pop in to see Mark.

NCT 2023 rehearsals were in full swing, so walking into the rehearsal room, you were met with a chorus of “Y/N!” coming from every member. While you made your rounds, saying hello to everyone, Mark was just sitting in the corner watching with a fond smile. Watching you interact with his members always made him feel so happy. Knowing that all the most important people in his life were all friends was his favorite feeling in the world. (Well, maybe second favorite ;))

Your eyes finally met his and you sat beside him, hugging him tight, instinctively burying your face in his neck.

“Hey, baby,” he said. You could feel him smiling from where his cheek was placed against the top of his head. “How’s my girl today? I didn’t know you were visiting.”

“I missed you,” you said, still buried into his shoulder. You didn’t tell him about the meeting, and you had no intention to. It just felt unnecessary to get his hopes up when they would probably be crushed anyways.

You two stayed cuddled up against each other for the remainder of their short break from rehearsal.

“Hey lovebirds, you’re cute and everything, but we need to practice now,” Johnny said.

“You know you’re jealous, dude,” Mark retorted. Johnny’s face twisted in a weird way that showed Mark was right.

“Whatever. Let's just go.”

“You’ll wait for me, baby?” “Of course.”

About an hour later, rehearsal was over and the members were packing up getting ready to leave. Mark was standing next to you, deciding what your plans for the evening would be, when the CEO walked in.

“Oh! Hello, sir,” Taeyong said, bowing and getting everyone’s attention. And there was a chorus of “hello”s and bows.

“Hello, boys,” he said, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “I would like to talk to you all about something,” he was met with confused looks and some muttering. “It has come to my attention that you all haven’t had an adequate break in quite a while,” he purposefully avoided meeting your eyes. “So, after some consideration, you will all have 2 full months off after current promotions end. There will be no new comebacks, no new concerts, no other projects. You all deserve some time off after all the hard work you’ve put in for years now. And I’m sorry it took so long for me to give this to you.”

“Thank you so much, sir,” Taeyong said, prompting another round of bows from the members.

With that, the CEO left the room and the members started to talk excitedly about what they would do with their time off. Mostly talks of visiting family and finally getting the sleep they’ve missed out on.

Mark had stayed quiet, watching your face. He sat back down next to you.

“I’m assuming you had something to do with this?” he said, laughing at your shocked face. “Oh come on, I know my girl better than you give me credit for.”

“Fine. I did. And just so you know, you will be taking this time off. And I will be making sure that you are not working. Are we clear?”

“Yes, maam,” he said. After a bit of watching the other members joke around with each other, he leaned back in to whisper in your ear, “I have an idea or two of something we can do with the time off,” he wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

“I might be open to your ideas. But first, you will be taking a nap. A very long nap.”

The pure love and adoration for you was clear on his face. “Thank you.” “For what?” “For caring. For fighting. For loving me.”

“Gross. You sap.” “I love you, my pretty girl.”

“I love you too, baby.”

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #nct fic #nct imagines

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gremlitsspoon · 1 year

Text

just thinking thoughts about how getting force-electrocuted would just completely fuck up ones body, nerves getting fried, muscles not quite working the way they once did, and how that might affect hearing

afterwords, when everyone is getting checked over by medical, they do what they can to help luke's muscles and body but they overlook his hearing because he can kind of get a sense of what they're saying through the force on top of lip reading. so his damaged hearing slips through the cracks for other, more life threatening cases. and luke just brushes it off thinking its just something that'll wear off

edit: i have a fic up about this now, its on my profile >:)

but 5 years later it still hasn't, if anything its gotten worse but he's so busy with rebuilding and fighting off remnants of the empire that he just cant find time to go through a ton of hearing tests so he just makes do with using the force and lipreading. it also adds to his mysterious jedi persona and gets people to leave him alone which, after everything, is what he wants. r2 isnt a problem cuz hes loud and makes sure luke is looking at him when hes talking so he doesnt really know how bad it is (r2 is also a vault of personal secrets so even if he knew how bad it was he'd say nothing)

then din happens and he cant lipread him and he also cant get a good fix on what the hell he wants through the force cuz the man is like a force dead-zone. luke does well enough with small sentences and such, enough to do small talk with minimal stumbling but then din starts coming to yavin to see grogu and starts spending time there and thats when luke realizes he's screwed himself.

because now, when theres nothing life threatening happening and din's emotions are quiet, theres nothing spilling through the cracks to latch onto. and the man speaks quiet enough as-is so luke is floundering. he just ends up realizing "oh shit my hearing is really fucked, what do i do? i cant keep this up cuz im giving him the wrong impression and i want to be nice because he's been nothing but nice"

finally one day luke is sitting working on a piece of something for r2 and din walks up behind him and calls his name a few times with no response so he taps luke and startles the bejeezus out of him, which confuses din cuz like... he wasnt being quiet, he stepped on a branch and was telling r2 to go away.

so luke comes clean after a moment and din's like "well, i know tusken sign if that would help" but luke doesnt know any. so din starts teaching him tusken sign after grogu's lessons

and because im a sucker for the parties, theres a big party for the new republic and luke brings din because he cant go alone and leia wants to meet him. through the whole party luke is making do with lip reading and the force, and din is talking to leia when she asks din something about how grogu's training is going and din turns to luke and taps his shoulder and starts signing and luke responds then translates to leia what he said and leia's just like "uh. why are you signing?" and luke freezes because he did not think that through and din covers for him making some excuse about how he didnt know if it was ok to talk jedi training in public which leia half buys because she knows her brother but its also not a bad reason especially for a large public gathering.

so she's suspicious but buys it and they make it through the rest of the party alright and get back to yavin and thats as far as i've thought rn but oooh the thoughts be thinking

#dinluke #grogu #the mandalorian #din djarin #luke skywalker #deaf!luke

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alienpossession · 10 months

Text

Annual Leave

I spent 16 days touring across East Asia and Southeast Asia. I made a lot of friends throughout the solo trip and that's all thanks to Pelle. You see, I did say to people that I have a solo trip and just luckily made tons of friends, but it's always been a game of two from the get go.

I was so stressed out in my first day when I landed in Japan. They don't like or feel too comfortable to converse in English and boy it was a great sight yet so draining due to all the confusion. So I resorted to my back-up plan that I stored in my suitcase once I checked in to my hotel to relieve me from the stress of this whole solo trip. Pelle is a friend of mine that came from millions of light years away. He's been very important for me as he helped me to solve my bullies problem ever since my senior year of high school until now in my 3rd year with my roommate and those frat boys. Pelle slid off the jar quickly as soon after I opened the lid and just like that, he was gone for the moment as he already knew what it meant for him when he's released.

Around an hour later, someone knocked my hotel room and when I opened the door, this Japanese guy starts speaking in an accented English telling me to skip shower and let him guide me around the bustling megacity. A quick glance to his eyes confirmed my suspicion, Pelle override whoever this guy is already and used his body as as vessel

Aki shown me around his hometown, Tokyo, and then packed his bag to the countryside for 3 days where his built and of-course-fluent Japanese helped us to survive and have fun without getting lost.

I think the time where he practically slut me out to the whole onsen where my head was pistoned in several succesive cocks truly left a memorable impact in me. Pelle's decision to take over Aki's body back in Tokyo despite me insisting on making this trip an actual solo trip was eye-opening (and hole-opening of course). Not only did that solve a lot of potential problem, having a local guide that you can have fun together with and not going to be fussy about your itinerary is a total blessing because it's still feels like the one that drive the trip is you and you only have someone to fully help you around.

But Japan was just the first out of many country I planned to visit. Pelle slid out of Aki in one of the toilet in Narita, and minutes later he messaged me that he already joined the flight directed to my next destination, Beijing. During the flight, I got informed by the flight attendant that my seat was upgraded to Business Class. I was quite suspicious to the studly flight attendant but as soon as I got escorted to the Business Class section, the flight attendant quickly shoved me to the carpeted floor much to my surprise. He then said

"Sniff and bark like the dog you are!"

I glared at him wildly, but then I realized that he's merely puppeteered by Pelle. So, Pelle is not inside the flight attendant any longer and he's instead hidden in one of this private cabin. After forced to be on all fours sniffing my way to find in which section the mysterious guy hid himself, I finally caught whiff of this leathery perfume and oaky stench. That's when I opened the private cabin to eventually stumbled with the sole passenger in the Business Class section.

"You found me,"

"Not like you can hide such strong smell,"

I once again got shoved by the flight attendant that just came outta nowhere, and then I literally fell on top of this buff young guy with his chiseled face and equally appetizing body. I can smell him even clearer now, he even smelled expensive yet super sexy too and he just giggled at me for being so awestruck with him

"Never been so up close and personal witb a hunk like me, huh?"

Which is clearly wrong because all those frat boys already left me cop a feel anyway, but I did have to admit that this guy is great on his own way.

He's a Beijing native and he own a pad overlooking the city where I stayed for 3 days having the best time getting pampered by him.

He also introduced me to his 2 best friends who willingly tag-teamed to destroy my hole from both ends while he's busy working in the next room.

Pelle's control on the young, cocky businessman is a true masterwork on its own, but the way Pelle managed to also affect the businessman's two best friends without even needed to slid into them clearly shown how amazing his computational capability to manage 3 different human being doing activities of their own.

Then, after some digging, Pelle realized that the young businessman also have private jet he rarely used because he knew it was totally monitored by his parents. After influencing the pilot (that's also in his parents paycheck) to ensure that no tracking devices left behind the private jet, he let me use his private jet for the remainder of my trip. I asked the pilot to drop me in Hanoi.

I went to Hanoi a lot during my childhood since my dad is a Vietnamese immigrant but I've never been in Hanoi ever since I graduated elementary school. My companion in Hanoi was Van, a gym cutie I stumbled in this rooftop bar I went to during my 2nd night in the city.

Pelle slid into Van when he eventually left his table that he shared with his 5 other friends for some quick fix in the restroom. Pelle did give Van a quick fix as the loud-mouthed asshole that slapped on girl's butt that went pass his table all night long turned into a horny gay motherfucker as he rode me to town in the cramped bathroom stall. We consummated our relationship all over town as he literally fucked me in his parked G-Wagon before heading for some 2 AM pho fix. Van lived in a high-rise apartment paid by this lady that frequent his gym and paid him as her boytoy. Pelle observed that Van's misogyny and rudeness came from the fact that he's self-aware that he's practically just a slut and that hurted his ego and I just nodded in silence when he explained all that. I don't know, I wanted to pity him but at the same time, isn't it his life choices? Who am I to judge anyway, he's just a guide too for me to shown me around so I decided to not be too sentimental about some life story of random meat puppet my alien friends worn

Van continued on to become my Vietnamese trip companion as I went to Sa Pa, Da Nang and closed the Vietnamese leg in Ho Chi Min.

We left his body in the hotel room in the old quarters of Ho Chi Minh as I travel to Bangkok, still with the trusted private jet Pelle made the businessman let me use. In retrospect, I think Pelle enjoyed our Thailand leg the most. The country was in the middle of a heat wave when we came so everyone was wearing the thinnest shirt possible and the club is filled with people ditching their shirts and just danced the night away. That's when I also stumbled with Pat, who didn't even need to be taken over by Pelle to be nice to me.

I just instantly have a good vibe from seeing him and talk to him briefly, but alas, I'm not here for niceties and it was actually thrilling to see how Pelle made that beautiful face of his smirked when he managed to take over Pat's body and directed me to meet him in the club's bathroom.

Pat, obviously, is a model and social media personality. An engagement for a brand in Pattaya the following day caused us to tag along for that event where Pat influenced one of his local friends to show me around while he's shooting all day. That's when I realized that Pat might be too busy of an individual to show me around so I contacted Pelle to just left his body. You know what he did instead? He wrapped up the shoot in lightning speed as he influenced the producer to not ask him for another take and then solely guided me around the places while occasionally grumbling on how I would be punished later for making him do all this work and almost jeopardizing his career.

We spent 4 days in total in Thailand and Pelle, as Pat, showered me with attention, affection and his seemingly unrelenting amount of cum. He was the light of the party so it was easy for him to lure in some friends that quickly turned into a temporary additional muscle puppet as he put his own friends under his control. We literally spent our final night in Bangkok fucking like there's no tomorrow, the crowd of Pat and his friends all trying to get a piece of action with me and with each other as if they weren't bunch of straight guys or married man themselves before Pelle's takeover of Pat and the subsequent mind control he unleashed to these oblivious men. As we finished with him and his friends, we just silently left him in the aftermath of the orgy in his apartment to close off my Thailand's leg and headed to the real closing leg of my holiday trip

The final part of the trip put me in Bali where the jet eventually returned back to China too after we landed in the airport. Pelle of course remained by my side as we went into this well-known beach side gym with outdoor setting where one of my bully, Kyle, already waited for me and Pelle. He's been taken over by Pelle before so there will be no issue for Pelle to slid back into Kyle and after that, we departed back to the States

*** 18 hrs later, Hamad International Airport, United Arab Emirates ***

"What do you think of Europe?" asked Pelle through Kyle as he already in control of the jock's brain ever since our meet-up in the beach yesterday

"Huh? What are you talking about? My leave----"

He shushed me and then he winked at me as he motioned me to look into the opposing chair where a stud comfortably manspread in the chair with his headphone on while his left hand rested on that visibly hard groin. I licked my lips, thinking about Pelle making that dude's mine for the time being until we get called to board. But then, Kyle whispered to my ear

"What if I told you that you could be him?"

#male possession #alien possession #alien transference #alien mind control

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stormblessed95 · 7 months

Note

so is the video with jk and a girl in his apartment real?

I'll answer this once so you all will stop sending me asks about it, because my god. Relax people.

1. It's ILLEGAL to film someone without their knowledge inside their place of residence like this. How the FUCK are you people all losing your shit about if it's real or not and what that means for shipping and not about the absolute lack of boundaries and how fucked up it is to film someone like that?? Report the video and the people spreading it to Big Hit. Doesn't matter if it's real or not, at this point it's got JKs name attached to it and they should know. They want to know about malicious rumors like this.

^ please do so if you care about them at all

2. It doesn't look real to me. It looks like a set up, which is what predictably happens often to BTS members whenever they have a comeback. In fact, 5 days ago someone warned people on Twitter that they heard about someone making up rumors and to not believe them and be ready to report as antis had a whole plan to try and turn JKs Chinese fans against him and since it was posted on Weibo and targeted towards a Chinese audience first... that tracks as well. The video came out of no where from a brand new account and then all of a sudden a ton of random anti accounts were sharing it everywhere. It's supposed to be distracting ARMYs from streaming his new song and give him a "scandal" (because oh no, someone in their mid 20s might date someone! Gasp!) Is it working? Because we should all honestly care less....

^you can check their account to see the thread too if you want

3. Multiple people have pointed out all over Twitter the minor layout differences of the apartment and how things don't totally match up that get overlooked due to how grainy the video is. (Creepy ass video.) And again, NOT THE POINT. I doubt it's actually JK. Like I truly do. It only sort of looks like him too. So whatever. But his name is attached and people are going to believe whatever they want to believe now. But honestly. True or not, if you are going to be more mad that an idol is fucking someone (no matter who) over that their privacy was invaded, your priorities are screwed up. And that's a you problem.

4. No, this isn't like the Tae and Jennie thing either, this is such a drastically different type of *leak* (that's I don't even think it IS a leak and not real, but that's just me, yall can think he is happily together with this girl if you want) and the focus on shipping and the scandal of that whole thing instead of their privacy being invaded and people just not caring about that is just as fucked up now as it was then. And that's the only comparable thing to this scenario here.

Hugs and condolences though i guess to anyone actually upset. Goodnight.

#JK antis #jikook antis #antis antis antis #boundaries as fans #fandom discourse #shipping discourse

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