List 5 Things That Make You Happy, Then Put This In The Askbox Of The Last 10 People Who Reblogged From

list 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox of the last 10 people who reblogged from you!! get to know your mutuals and followers :D

My family

My 2 cats 😸

Lasagna (i could literally eat it every day)

Sunshine

Hanging out with my friends 🌸

sorry for the inactivity but I had my finals and they were fucking with my mental health 🥲

I will upload a new story soon I promise!!

I'm Not Nice - Ghost

Summary - A Queen driven to resent her King by his lack of consideration for her in relation to his mistress.

Tags/Warnings - royalty, infidelity, love to hate, angst, inspired by Please, Please, Please by Sabrina Carpenter

Banners by @/saradika-graphics @glossysoap @quietlyignoringyou @lordlydragon @grizzersmamma @ivymarquis @violet-phantoms @gremlingottoosilly

"Your Highness... you should not delay any further."

The poor attendant... he's too old to be subject to stressors such as this.

"Do you suggest I enter without His Majesty?"

The question wasn't meant to be discourteous, but the attendant dabs a handkerchief at his forehead nonetheless. You purse your lips. He's with that woman. You know it. He knows you cannot enter alone without there being damage to your influence as the queen, yet still, he's late. You close your eyes as they sting with tears of frustration and look up. Deep breaths. You cannot be seen as having been bothered by this. It'll just make you look weak.

"A decision, Your Highness?"

You steel yourself and smooth your hands over your dress. Swallowing hard you announce, "Five more minutes. We must afford His Majesty some more time before we make any brash decisions." The attendant simply bows. "Yes, Your Highness."

Clenching your jaw, you face away. Late to his anniversary ball... Simon Riley... please don't bring me to tears when my makeup has been done just so.

The fairytale books made no mention of scheduled nights to lay with your husband. Neither did your mother, your tutors, or your ladies in waiting. There you sat on the bed of your marital chamber. The doors were shut, but it didn't stop the conversation right outside the door from leaking in. You listened to her beg him, your husband, not to lay with another woman.

Another woman.

As if you weren't her queen. Her monarch. The servants and guards were surely waiting with baited breath to share the news of the Kings mistress interrupting his time with the Queen once again. You knew that where the begging and sweet words failed, the tears would win. For the last several weeks Simon had rebuffed you in favor of her. Within minutes of his entrance to the marital chamber, the guards would announce her arrival and request for a moment of his Majesty's time.

But you would not be rejected again tonight.

You stand from the bed and slip your robe back over your chemise. You pay no more mind to the conversation outside the door as you drink down the rest of your wine and make your way across the room. Yet before you've even made it half way, the door opens and Simon appears. "My Queen, let-" "No need, my dear husband." The title of husband has carried a sour taste as of late. "I shall retire for the night and leave you to your affairs." Glancing behind him you see no one but the guards.

"You're leaving?" Surprised, you look back to Simon. For him to look so disheartened.... it saddens and angers you. You clench your jaw and swallow. "You clearly have other things to attend to. I will not keep-" "I turned her away." Simon rushedly cuts you off. "My Queen. My wife... please stay." You feel your pride fizzling away. Your eyes are wide and your body shivers. How could you turn down such a request? It's all you've wanted since your wedding. The attention of the man you were raised to love and adore.

"Of course I'll stay."

"Who has approved of this!?" You cry out. "Surely not His Majesty, The King!"

The squire begins to confirm to you, that it was indeed the king, but you stand and cross the room before he can finish. You're out the door before your attendant can even rise from his seat in your office. A choruses of "Please, wait!" and "Your Highness!" echo after you in the hall as you beeline for the King's office. The guards cannot even finish announcing you before you're opening the doors and storming in.

"Your Majesty, surely you've sent me this request in jest." The document is placed squarely in the center of the desk over the rest of his papers. "Surely you do not intend to build a palace for your mistress with funds from the queens allowance."

It's only then, in horror, that you notice her. As Simon opens his mouth to answer you, a woman's voice interrupts. Her voice. "Your Highness, it is very uncouth of you to arrive in such a way unannounced." She acts completely scandalized as if she is the owner of this palace. It makes you sick, but you must maintain a semblance of composure in order to save face among the servants. "My Lady, I'd like to speak to my husband in private. Would you please leave us?" Being in her presence is the only time you address Simon so informally in public. It's a desperate act to remind her of her place that never seems to work. She looks at Simon. He works his jaw for a moment before dismissing her with a nod. The audacity to ignore you, The Queen, as if she has some position over you by being holding some of The Kings affections. Your blood pressure spikes at the exchange.

At the sound of the door shutting Simon sighs and leans back. "My queen... your allowance was barely cut into. Why would such an insignificant amount of gold provoke this type of reaction?" "Your Majesty, do you feign muteness to drive a reaction from me?" His expression gives nothing away. He must genuinely think this okay. You take a deep, shaking breath. "My husband... can you truly see no issue in taking from your wife, to give to your mistress?" His jaw shuts with a click of his teeth. Its a disgusting realization. That he must think of you as only The Queen, not as his wife.

You feel a familiar burn in your eyes.

One hand reaches and brushes it's fingers along the edge of his desk. "I believe I will be retiring early for the day, Your Majesty." Your hand retracts and folds in front of you again. "I'll be taking my evening meal in my chambers, you'll not be seeing me." As he rises from his seat he begins to hurredly speak. "My Queen-"

Your voice raises slightly, "I pray your evening is pleasant." And with an elegant curtsy, you take your leave.

"Your Highness, the delegation has arrived in the banquet hall."

"Thank you, madam."

Your hands are wringing in your lap. He better not be late this time. You've worked on this treaty for months and for you to be embarrassed on your first meeting with the delegation would be the final blow to you pride. All you can do is sit in the Solar and wait, though. Your irritation growing by the minute. Even your lady's maid looks anxious. You decide to quietly ask, "Where was he last seen, Madam Dia?"

She hesitates and it answers the question before she even utters a word. "His Majesty was last reported to be in her chambers, Your Highness. Im sorry." The pity in her voice makes your stomach turn, but the anger that fills your chest overtakes your embarrassment like a tide. You take in a breath to calm yourself, so deep it hurts, and stand up. "I cannot wait this time. We must enter the banquet hall and greet the delegates." "Yes, Your Highness. I will notify the attendants." She begins to hurry to the door, but it abruptly swings open before she can reach it. Simon swoops into the solar with haste. Your lady's maid bows deeply before hurrying out the door. He looks at you out of breath. "Your Majesty, you must be truly set on fraying away every last one of my nerves."

Cringing, he responds, "Lady Tanya, kept me longer than I anticipated. Please forgive me." To utter her name in front of you... he must truly have taken leave of his senses. It enrages you even more. Your eyes flare and the anger loosens your tongue to a dangerous extent.

"Dear Husband, I could handle personal slights and dismissals, but for such important public events..." Your breathing is shaky, but carefully controlled. You approach until you're chest to chest, fixing him with a brutal glare. "Heartbreak is one thing, my ego is another. I beg you do not embarrass me today."

He's floundering for words as you walk past him and head for the Banquet Hall's entrance.

The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

Second Choice — John Price x Fem!reader

You found out the secret that your husband has been hiding all this time.

Warnings — fem!reader, cheating, second choice reader, reader blame herself, Price is asshole in this fic, angst, angst, ANGST, no happy end, etc.

1,3k words.

Main Masterlist COD Masterlist

You open the car trunk and start taking out your groceries. You try to carry the groceries you bought with both hands and close the trunk door of your car. You don't realize that you have bought this much, considering that today is the day your husband comes back, you are excited to cook a delicious meal for him.

You walk into the house where you pass many of your wedding photos. You smile as you look at them, it's been two years of your marriage and you are so happy living with your husband.

You put your groceries down and start arranging them in the cupboards and fridge. After that you walk around to see if each room in your house is clean or not. You smile as you head towards your husband's study. You are rarely there unless your husband is home.

You check the room and see that it is a bit messy with books on the table. You enter and start tidying up the books. You smile at the picture of your husband when he was young. He looks dashing in his military uniform. You read the writing in the corner of the photo. John Price.

You return to tidying up your husband's desk, you bend down to pick up the book that fell under the desk. As you try to get up, you bump your head on the underside of your husband's desk and soon you hear what sounds like a drawer lock opening. You see an open drawer and check it. Your hand stops for a moment, unsure whether to open it or not.

But you're his wife, there's no way he could have kept anything from you except his confidential work files. Your hand moves to open the drawer, if it was his confidential work file you would return it quickly. But what you get is not a confidential file but a black book with your husband's name on the end.

You laugh softly at the thought of your husband having a diary. You sit on his chair and scrutinize the diary.

"Why is he so cute? I can't imagine how serious he is about writing this," you say to yourself.

You start to open the diary and read it slowly. The first few pages are all about how happy he is to be in the military and the missions he went on. In the middle he starts to describe how he feels about being a captain.

You keep smiling reading your husband's diary. You are so happy to see how happy he is pouring his feelings into every word he writes. You smile even more when you see the date of the diary which turns out to be two years before you got married. Which means four years ago.

Your smile slowly fades as you read what's written there.

I love her, a very new feeling for me. And I will try to get her heart.

You haven't met yet on that date. You open the next page which turns out he wrote after a few months from the last page.

She was so beautiful in that dress, and she smiled so beautifully that night. I'm so glad she agreed to go on a date with me.

This was written seven months before you met. You're turning over another page.

I was so happy to wake up with her in my arms every morning.

Written two months before you and your husband met. You close the diary, afraid to read it. But you have to make sure of something. You take a deep breath and open the diary again.

We've been in a relationship for almost two years, but we both know we can't get married if one of us is still in the military. And neither of us wants to give it up.

You turned over a new page.

I found a girl, I thought she could be the 'someone' that could cover my relationship with her.

You see the date written, one day after your meeting. And in less than a year he said he wanted to marry you because he loved you so much and didn't want to waste too much time because of his job that sometimes took him away for a long time. You hold your chest which feels tight. You try to breathe properly and open the next page.

One year into our marriage, and I still don't feel anything. Sleeping with her only makes me think of my lover at the base.

Tears fall down your husband's diary. You quickly skipped through the pages until you reached the last page.

I felt a little guilty because I lied about being on an important mission. My darling wanted to go to Paris, and with the time off we went there together.

You choke as you feel the tightness in your chest. All this time you've been trying to be a good wife to him, trying to serve him well. It turns out that what he had been imagining was his lover. And right now he is with his woman.

You laugh out loud with tears rolling down your cheeks. You pat your chest so hard hoping that the pain you feel will go away. You sob while patting your chest. Why does it hurt so much? Why did this happen to you? What did you do wrong?

Question after question spins in your head. You try to calm yourself down even though it's hard. The husband you have been proud of, the husband who has been smiling in front of you, who has been hugging you every night. What did you do wrong? What did you do to deserve this?

You get up and walk out of your husband's study. Your gaze is blank with messed up thoughts. You really don't know what you did wrong. Even after being married for two years they keep in touch behind your back. What is wrong with all this? Are you not being a good wife to him?

You walk towards your bedroom and look at the photo that is displayed there. You examine the photo, you study your husband's face clearly. Then you remember the photo in his study. Your husband's smile, it turns out that the smile he has been giving you is different.

How naive you were. You feel the tightness again. You pick up your photos with your husband and throw them all on the floor. You feel a shard of glass that hurts your leg. You scream as you pull your hair. Why does this hurt so much? Why is your chest so tight?

You walk to the living room where your wedding photos are. You throw them on the floor one by one. No wonder John always refused to do a couple portrait with the excuse that there were already too many wedding photos. You sit by the shattered glass on the floor with a blank look. How could someone destroy someone else's life so easily?

You hear the sound of a door opening and footsteps approaching you. You look up and see John who stands staring at you with an unreadable look. You stare at him with a hate filled gaze.

"How was your vacation, John? Was it fun?"

"Sweetheart—"

You raise your hand for him to stop talking. Even hearing his voice makes you want to vomit.

"I know everything. How could you do all this to me, John? What did I do wrong?" you ask through sobs.

You try to get up, John who sees you tries to help. Before he can hold your hand you stop him.

"Don't touch me with your filthy hands."

You walk towards your bedroom with John following, you grab your suitcase and put your belongings in.

"Sweetheart, please let me explain everything. I–I know I was wrong but let me explain everything—"

You laugh at his words. What is there to explain?

"I'll send the divorce papers as soon as possible. Don't worry, I won't stand in the way of your love story with her. I think I'm too worthy for someone like you, John."

And you hope he'll feel the way you feel because of him. I hope he feel how hurt it feels.

lowselfesteem!reader who finally let her walls down for simon and fell madly in love with him, only to get this random itching feeling one night after a couple months of dating

your hand twitches in your lap as you sit up in bed, anxiously picking at your nails in complete darkness whilst simon sleeps peacefully next to you. after a few moments of deliberating, you finally reach out and grab his phone

you find a group chat at the top of his recent messages, just him and his friends. your eyes immediately land at the message in the middle of the screen, from simon

idk I think I might marry this girl

you feel yourself breathe a sigh of relief, only to catch it again in your throat when you read the next message sent by one of the boys. sickening feeling of dread mixed with anger takes over you,

oh that reminds me. I still owe you the money from our bet

how long did it take you to shag her again?