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friendlyneighborhoodborg · 5 years

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Marc Appreciation Week 2019| Day 7: Future| “Rough Draft“

So yeah, it’s late, but I finished it anyway. Thanks to everyone who read this and everyone who participated in the event. Now that I have a bunch of time on my hands, I’m gonna enjoy the heck out of all your guys’ work.

Disclaimers were in Day 1.

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

AO3 Link

(Exactly 2000 words, because I’m not always as insane as I’ve led you to believe.)

Desperately, Rose pounded on the door to the house’s basement.

“Please!” she shouted. “Anyone! Help!”

But she realized it was no use. No one was coming down to save her.

All was silent and dark.

Until she heard a noise from the far corner.

“Is someone there?” she croaked, squinting in the darkness.

She didn’t squint for long. There was a bit of light in the room, though nothing was casting it. It just existed.

Then, there shimmered into visibility a floating figure: a woman all in white. White jumpsuit with a black cross over her chest and chains on her wrists near her gloves, white boots that hovered just above the ground, and a bright white cowl that sucked all other light from the room to feed its glow. There was no color around the face, mouth, and eyes. Her hair, which flowed around her head like twisting snakes, was a royal violet.

Rose knew her immediately. Akuma or not, she’d know that face anywhere.

“J… Juleka?” she gasped, horrified. “It’s you?”

“Rose.” The figure sneered. “Where were you when I needed you?”

“I…” She struggled to make her words work. “I was—”

“You left. You left me alone with a room full of strangers.” The villain hovered higher, leering down at her. “You do know how I get in crowds, right? Typical; no one even noticed when I started breaking down. No one even saw the butterfly come to me.” She grinned maliciously, showing off pointed teeth. “But they saw me. And oh, how they screamed.”

“I-I thought you were having fun.” Rose backed away from her akumatized girlfriend. “I thought I’d just keep you from socializing.”

“I wasn’t having fun! Or did you think because it was Halloween that the spook was in her element?”

“I’m sorry!” she bawled. “I just wanted you to be happy!”

“I was happy, Rose.” The specter came close and stared her in the face. “I was always happy, standing next to you. Didn’t you see that?” She held up a gloved finger. “Don’t answer that. If you understood…” the chains on her wrists glowed an ominous purple, and her hands clenched into fists, “you wouldn’t have left me alone.”

“Juleka… I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

Ghostlight narrowed her eyes and raised her arm. “Too little, too late.”

................................................................................................................................

Outside, Ladybug had finished tying up the police officers, just as they began to regain consciousness.

“Alright,” she seethed. “I’ve been having a bad night tonight, so I’m really not in the mood. Tell me where Ghostlight is right now.”

One guard blinked awake. “Ladybug?” he said. “What are… what happened?”

Chat Noir cursed. “She must have released her hold.”

“Thank goodness,” Reverser panted. “These guys were tough. You guys do this all the time?”

“We face mind-control baddies more often than not,” explained Mighty-Illustrator. “They always go for one of us heroes, and we’ll end up having to fight them. Usually Chat.”

“Hey!” the feline hissed.

As usual, it was Ladybug’s duty to keep the boys off each other’s throats. “Possession’s not her main power, though, so it wasn’t as bad as it usually is. Her poltergeist attacks ripped cars off the street. We’re lucky we’ve got our suits, or there’s no way we would’ve walked away from that.”

“Yeah, but,” Reverser approached Ladybug, now nearing hysterics, “you’ve got a plan, right?”

“Almost. We’ve got to get close enough to land a hit and find her object.”

Mighty-Illustrator looked back, at a house where many of the occupants were running out of it screaming. “Well, looks like we’re getting that chance.”

The heroes looked on as Ghostlight herself appeared in the doorway. “Well, well,” she snarled. “Four against one? I thought superheroes had honor.”

Ladybug struck a heroic pose. “So many others have tried to take our miraculous before you, and now our team’s bigger than ever before. You never stood a chance!”

“Yeah!” shouted Chat Noir. “Give up the ghost while you can!”

“Not so fast, creeps,” their adversary cackled. “There’s been a slight change in plans, courtesy of my good friend Hawk Moth. Let’s see… if one monster’s too much for the newbie to handle, how will he fare with two?” She held up two fingers. “A phantom and a witch.”

Ladybug grit her teeth.

She had green skin and pink hair, styled like a blooming flower. Familiar black garb, complete with a swirling masquerade mask, adorned her, but now she had a new black cloak to match Ghostlight’s.

“Bonsoir, my pretties,” trilled Princess Fragrance, brandishing her perfume gun. “Did you miss me?”

Rose stared at the page, then quickly flipped it back and forth over the back cover. “There’s no more?” she whispered, flipping through as though searching for another, secret page. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Nath replied, smiling. “You like it?”

“How could you do this!?” she shrieked, almost lunging at the two of them. “How dare you make me feel things and then stop writing!”

Juleka laughed from behind him. “That’s a good sign. You got to neck-throttle levels of hiatus frustration.” She leaned back in thought. “Last one that did that was… was it the Warrior Duchess season 2 finale?”

Rose spun on her heel. “Don’t even bring that up.”

Marc shrugged, fingering his copy of the draft. “Just be glad we got all this in one week. I mean, it’s not perfect, and we haven’t even colored or proofread it. But, uh, I think it’s pretty good for a first try.” There was a general chorus of agreement in addition to Rose’s insane cheers.

“This was so worth putting off the budget meeting,” Marinette said, flipping through her own copy of the rough draft. “Sorry I haven’t been in much. But that was really fun, you guys, I can’t wait to see more.”

“Well, we can’t wait to make more.” Marc gestured to the issue. “Consider this a sneak-teaser.”

“PLEASE!” Rose screamed. And then, quieter, she added, “But don’t over-stress yourself, your happiness and health are important.”

Marc smiled. “I’ll try.” Nathan nudged him playfully, and he added. “We’ll try.”

“But don’t slack either,” Juleka countered, taking another look at Ghostlight. “Dude, Nath, that’s an awesome outfit. Way better than that plastic Barbie dress.”

“Rose was a consultant on that,” her designer confessed. “Coincidentally, consider it an anniversary gift. A proper romantic supervillain rampage, coming soon.”

Rose had stars in her eyes as she looked over at her. “And sure to be just as cool as how we got together, right Julie?”

“Yep. Speaking of…” Juleka started to close the distance.

“Upupup!” Rose halted, moving backwards and whipping out her phone. “Wait for…” she checked the time. “Two more minutes.”

Nath raised an eyebrow. “Are you still not allowed to hug each other? Alix…”

“Don’t look at me,” the suspect denied. “Rose served her time already.”

Juleka jerked her thumb at Rose. “Yes, but now she wants to wait until our ‘official’ anniversary before I can kiss her again.”

“May 19,” Rose recalled dreamily. “2:39 p.m., she kissed me on the cheek in the middle of us taking a selfie.”

“We both tripped and fell over right as she took it.”

“It was so dashing of her.” There was not a trace of irony in that assessment. “I’ve got it framed over my bed.”

“Not the worst selfie I’ve ever taken.”

Marc was the only one who laughed at the punchline. Everyone else only pretended to.

“You didn’t happen to get the exact time I kissed you, did you?” Nath asked.

“Why?” Marc challenged. “Fancy celebrating our one-day anniversary with a proper date?”

“If you’d like to. And if you’re free. That superhero movie just came out.”

“I’ve already seen it, though.”

“Well, would you object to seeing it again?”

“Not at all.”

Marinette glanced between the two of them awkwardly. “I missed something, didn’t I.”

Rose’s phone beeped. She cheered, “It’s time! It’s time!”

“Yes!” Juleka spread her arms. Rose gleefully jumped into them, squeezing tight, and the goth peppered the top of her hair with kisses (the benefits of dating someone a head shorter than her).

“Ugh,” Alix muttered, turning to Nath. “Promise me you two won’t get like this.”

“We’ll try,” Marc assured her. “At least in front of you.”

“In front of anyone.” She shuddered. “Why do sweethearts need to flirt in public? They’re already together, they don’t need any more prompting.”

“Well some people can’t help it,” Marc explained. “I mean, look at his face. That face was made for flirting.” He turned to Nath. “I hope you don’t mind me flirting at that face.”

“Is that all I am to you?” he asked. “Just a face?”

“No… well, actually, yes. But then I think most of us are faces, aren’t we?”

“That’s rather bleak, isn’t it? Treating a mask as the genuine article?”

“Not really. If you’ll permit me to wax poetic.” Marc sat Nath down at a stool and looked at his face. “You are… two crystal-blue eyes who see me for who I am. You’re two ears who listen to me and a mouth that converses with me.” Nathan started to blush in response, which prompted Marc to get closer and touch his cheek. “Two blushing red cheeks I can hold, gorgeous red hair I can do this to…” He ruffled up Nathan’s hair. “And a nose I can do this to…” He tapped the nose impishly. “And two lips… well, maybe later. And you’re the sum of all the expressions of every emotion I’ve seen you act on. Don’t underestimate a face. Especially not yours. While its appearance is subject to change, it remains consistent for whoever uses it.”

Nathan had turned about as red as his hair. “Seriously, is that, like, effortless for you? I don’t really know what to say to that.”

Marc looked at him, prompting.

“There’s no way I can top it,” he protested. “It’s your words… your words are all so beautiful.” Marc’s eyes won him over, and he sighed. “Fine. I’m no good with words, but I’ll try.” Cheerfully, Marc ushered him off the stool and stole his seat.

Nathan coughed and began. “I don’t really think I saw you right. Not until you were telling me how happy you were when you wrote. I felt like I had found someone like me.” He stopped talking, unsure how to proceed and eyeing the others, everyone nose deep in their comic, warily.

“Hey,” Marc caught his attention. “Don’t worry about anyone else. And… I won’t judge anything you say. Just try saying something. Anything you want.”

“We’re both screwed up in our own ways. You just… you kept coming back, and I’d never be able to do that. I’d run away and hide, and pretend you didn’t exist. I did do that, the first time.” He frowned, remembering. “That was a mistake.” He shook his head, trying to focus. “You have persistence. You have wit, and you have charm and a style… just everything I wish I had. And it was through all that, I got to know everything else—the whole thing. I saw you, and… here we are.” He bit his lip. “I guess we’re a thing now?”

“Sure thing,” Marc laughed. “You did great, champ.”

“No. It didn’t really make sense.”

His partner smiled. “It never does.” He leaned in once more, and was greeted by a warm set of lips chastely pressed on his own.

Rose clapped softly, the teacher averted his gaze, and Juleka gave them a thumbs-up. Even Alix had to smile. “You guys rock,” she said. “Now back to work, you two.”

Only then did the boys realize that everyone was watching them.

“Okay,” Marinette announced. “I definitely missed something.”

As Rose pulled her aside to fill her in, Nathaniel and Marc went to the back of the room where no one would bother them. “Way to kill the mood, Alix,” Nath complained.

“Thank you,” she bowed. “It’s what I’m here for.”

So that’s that then. Day 7, all done and done.

I’m going to sleep.

#Marc Appreciation Week #marc anciel #nathaniel kurtzberg #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #alix kubdel #marinette dupain-cheng #julerose #nathmarc #fanfic #well i'm gonna sleep

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 6 years

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Merry Christmas to Us

Title: Merry Christmas to Us

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1337

Warning: Fluff all the way with a tiny drop of angst (but not really).

A/N: This is my submission to Kari (@thing-you-do-with-that-thing) and Ida’s (@like-a-bag-of-potatoes) 12 Days of Christmas Challenge. Prompt: December 22 – Decorating the Tree

12 Day of Christmas Masterlist

Disclaimer: Image not mine.

Excitement was coursing through Y/N’s body. A few hours ago, Sam had called saying that he and Dean were returning home from a hunt with a Christmas tree strapped to the Impala. Apparently the tree seller gave it as a thanks for getting rid of the ghost haunting the area.

The ornaments she bought the moment she hung up with Sam littered the table in the war room. She had even bought a moose, squirrel, and giraffe ornament as a joke for the guys. A flask of hot cocoa awaited the arrival of her three favorite men while fidgeting in anticipation for their return.

She checked the clock to see that it was well past 1 in the morning. Her energy was quickly depleting, but she was determined on staying awake to decorate the tree once they were home. When 2 am came her head was bobbing with grogginess. Eventually, sleep won the battle and she reluctantly surrendered. It was almost 3am when Dean pulled into the garage. Sam grabbed the bags while Dean carried in the 6-foot tree with ease. He maneuvered it through the halls and into the war room where he found her fast asleep in the mess of Christmas ornaments. He smiled, admiring the sight.

Dean noticed the Christmas tree stand placed near the library entrance, knowing that was where she had planned on setting it. After getting the tree up, Dean scooped her into his arms carefully so she wouldn’t wake. Once he reached her room, he tucked her into bed. When he returned to the war room, Sam stood at the edge of the table looking at all the ornaments. He was holding what looked like to be a moose.

“Is that a moose?” Dean called, catching Sam’s attention.

Sam smiled, wiggling the stuffed moose ornament at Dean. “Yeah, there’s even a squirrel and giraffe.”

“She’s something else,” Dean grinned, taking hold of the plush squirrel ornament.

“Dean, when are you going to tell her?”

“Tell her what?” Dean suddenly got a little snippy. Sam gave him a pointed look, knowing very well that Dean understood what he meant. “Sammy, let’s not talk about that, alright? Things just wouldn’t work out between us. We’re hunters. No, we’re Winchesters, or did you forget about that? She’s already at risk being with us.”

“Dean, she’s a hunter which means she’s always at risk. At least with us we can protect her.” Sam gently placed the moose ornament back on the table.

“It’s… it’s just not that easy,” Dean mumbled, toying with the squirrel in his hands.

“Dean it IS that easy. For once can you just get over yourself and all your negativity and believe that you deserve to be happy? Because Dean, you do! You do so much for the world, you do so much for me and everyone else! Do something for yourself and BE happy. Dean, that’s all I want for Christmas. I just want you to be happy.”

Dean just stared at Sam, eyes questioning and contemplating on what his little brother had just told him. He wanted to be with Y/N more than anything but he didn’t want to risk it. Sacrifices had to be made, and Dean wasn’t going to sacrifice her safety for his selfishness (according to his mindset).

“Sam, seriously. Just drop it,” Dean’s voice was laced with defeat. Sam sighed in frustration but he could tell that his brother was already having a hard time with the subject.

“Alright, Dean. But I’m just saying, she won’t turn you down.” With that said, Sam patted his brother on the back and headed to his room.

Dean didn’t move from his spot. Instead, he eyed the ornament in his hand, admiring the details and thinking about Y/N. Could he really do both? Was it possible to guarantee her safety and still be with her as more than friends? And how could Sam possibly know that she wouldn’t turn him down? What was he implying? Did Y/N feel the same way? How could that be possible? There were no signs, no hints, no nothing!

In attempt to clear his mind, Dean decided to get started on decorating the tree. He figured that putting up the lights and a few ornaments wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

Y/N woke up only to find herself back in her room. Scowling in confusion, she eyed her room through the faint light that leaked through her slightly unfastened door. She opted on going back to sleep when she heard a faint sound. Someone was still up and she was going to find out who it was.

“You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear Voices singing, let’s be jolly Deck the halls with boughs of holly”

Peaking behind the wall, she saw Dean decorating the tree singing along to the soft Christmas music playing from his phone. The lights on the tree were on, being the only energy source brightening up the room. There were a few ornaments hung, glittering beautifully. Y/N smiled watching Dean singing in contentment. It had been a long time since she’d seem him so carefree. He deserved to be happy and feel safe. She only wished that he’d feel all those things with her, but she knew Dean. He would never give her a second thought, and even if he did, he’d never make her his. The curse of the Winchesters, was a curse of love deprivation for both parties.

Y/N quietly walked over to Dean, stopping right behind him. “Need some help?” She whispered, causing him to jump and drop the plastic ornament. “And this is why we can’t have nice things,” she teased, bending down to pick it up.

“Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me,” Dean breathed.

“Whoops.”

“Whoops? That’s all you have to say after almost giving me a heart attack?” He grumbled.

“Sorry, Dean-o,” you chirped, hanging the ornament on the tree.

Dean scoffed and continued to add decorations along with Y/N. His eyes would always wander back to her, relishing the way the Christmas lights hit her face and lit up her eyes. Butterflies came alive in his stomach as thoughts of her became the only thing in his mind. Y/N glanced his way, Dean quickly reverting back to the tree. Now it was Y/N’s turn to admire the tall hunter beside her. She couldn’t believe how smitten she had become; it was almost down right embarrassing.

After many awkward glances at each other, and the tree nearly finished, Dean broke. Sam was right. He deserved to be happy and so did Y/N. And if he could be her happiness, he would be there for her even after the lights went out.

“Sammy, I’m about to make your Christmas wish come true,” Dean murmured out loud.

“What?” Y/N turned to him in confusion. “Sam?” She peaked behind herself thinking that Sam had woken up, but when she saw no one, she whirled back around only to be greeted with soft, warm, lips against hers.

She instantly fell in step and deepened the kiss, lacing her finger through Dean’s short locks. “What was that for?” Y/N panted, her eyes clouded in a dreamy state.

“You know I’m not good with words, so I’m just going to come right out and say it,” Dean spoke, but before he could finish, Y/N cut in.

“I love you,” she blurted. Her eyes never fluttering or leaving his. Dean froze in shock. Not only had the confession render him speechless, she had stolen his punchline.

“Wha-wait. Hold on a second. What? You see that’s what I was going to say. You- no. You can’t just–” Dean was cut off once again from his speech when Y/N, this time, collided her lips onto his. Dean kissed back eagerly, pulling her body flat against his. Their warmth intermingling together.

When they both pulled away, Dean huffed with satisfied content. “Merry Christmas to us,” he grinned before dipping his head for another mind-blowing kiss.

Feedback Is Appreciated!

#Kari and Ida's 12 Days of Christmas Challenge #dean x reader #dean winchester #a very supernatural christmas #reader insert #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn holidays #spn family #spn challenge #dean fanfic #Merry Christmas to Us #squirrel-moose-winchester

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blackbird-brewster · 7 years

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I had two profound experiences today, extremely unrelated in context but both thought provoking after the fact. The first experience had to do with me getting my first library card in 18 years and how I was very anxious to go into the library for any reason other than to print something. I will detail this experience in a different post but long story short, all of the embarrassment and shame I felt because of my learning disability melted away and I ended up spending nearly two hours just browsing books. I left feeling to included and happy, I actually cried tears of joy. Fast forward to the second notable experience of my day. Tonight I went on a date with my flat mate to “Naked Girls Reading: The Feminist Propaganda Edition”. Naked Girls Reading is apparently a sort of “brand”, started in the US as a protest against the ways women’s bodies are usually sexualized when naked. The theory is exactly what it sounds like, performers are completely nude and read aloud to the audience. I had never heard of this amazing concept, so I jumped at the invitation. ESPECIALLY since tonight’s theme was feminism. I figured naked women reading feminist works sounded AUHMAZING. [Rest behind a cut for length and transphobia]

The event was hosted by a popular personality in the New Zealand LGBTQPIA scene. They are a self labeled transvestite that MC’s events as their drag king persona, Hugo Grrrl. I assumed, if it was hosted by a gender diverse person it was going to be fairly inclusive. Welp, you know what they say about assuming.

Things started promising as Hugo opened their monologue with my favorite greeting “Guys, gals and nonbinary pals”. Hugo then went on to talk about some of the topics of the night including body positivity, body hair, porn, sex work, sex positivity, etc. It sounded really exciting and inter-sectional, I was pumped.

Within the ten minute monologue there was also the disclaimer that “Although this is called “Naked Girls Reading”, gender is a spectrum and the binary is bullshit.” (woo, yeah!!) ”...We only call it that because it was started in America and we didn’t come up with the name.” (Wait, what?)

Ok... but you could literally just call it “Naked People Reading” or “Naked Folx Reading” or ANYTHING else if you want to TRULY be inclusionary. I wasn’t even concerned about the title UNTIL Hugo made the point to say gender binary is bullshit... but then to say “meh, we didn’t come up with the title we’re just being complacent in it” Was sort of shitty. If you are trying to include people, then INCLUDE them. Don’t say “Hey I’m not transphobic, BUT....” There was no point of this disclaimer other than to point out you recognized a problem but would rather go along with it than change one word of the title of the show. Things only went down hill from there. A few minutes later as Hugo was wrapping up the monologue they wanted to get the crowd pumped before introducing the performers for the evening. To do this, Hugo had “all the women cheer!” (which they did) then followed by “now all the men!” (which they did). It turned out it was just a set up to make the men a punchline of a very stereotypical “feminist hate men” joke. These jokes are always obnoxious and yes, I recognize Hugo was trying to connect to the large feminist audience so we could all laugh at how society views us...but again, we were back at only acknowledging the gender binary.

Now I realize many people right now will think I’m being extremely cynical. “Kit, you can’t say someone is being trans exclusionary if they are a queer that self identifies as a transvestite!” But I can because they were. If you are going to mention nonbinary people. If you are going to make a point of talking about how the binary is bullshit. If you want to have a disclaimer that gender is a spectrum. It’s ALL or nothing. Inclusion isn’t “I acknowledged you, you should be happy” it’s “I acknowledged you AND included you with everyone else as if we’re all the same.

The monologue is over, I am properly uncomfortable and agitated, the performers come out. From the promises of topics, I expected diversity. Again, that nasty assuming sure got the better of me.

Instead I get two skinny women and one average sized woman. They all appear to be white (although one was painted head to toe in blue and pink body paint as a My Little Pony...and later I learned she isn’t actually white.) They’re naked. So I can tell body hair isn’t really happening. A bit of bush but perfectly smooth everywhere else. All have shoulder length or longer hair and present very feminine. Idk, again, maybe I was just so cynical by this point that I let my critic get away with me. I just wonder how hard it would be to find a more diverse cast? Am I just too deep in tumblr culture to expect to see different size bodies at a feminist reading? Or people with actual body hair, especially since there was a point of mentioning it in the monologue? Tattoos? Scars? Short hair? Disabilities? More racial diversity? (Again, the one woc was painted blue. And I feel shitty for thinking she was white but they could have included dark skinned people too.) Introductions are done. The de-robing has happened. We now have three naked women sitting on a couch. Let’s read “feminist propaganda”! Some pretty typical stuff, Maya Angelou, Gloria Steinem, big names of the feminist movement. There was a reading of an MRA’s post from some MRA website. (Why are we giving MRA’s an audience at a FEMINIST reading?!) Intermission. During intermission, I got up the courage to go speak to Hugo and mention why I was peeved at the start of the show with the women/men division of the audience. They shrugged and said “well it was a set up to a punch line” I smiled and replied, “I realize that but don’t you think trans folks are the punch line enough?” They tried to back track but it got awkward and I walked away. Hugo does some “feminist” trivia during the break. Throwing prize bags of tampons and chocolate to whoever shouts the correct answer.

One question asks what does “SWERF” stand for. A woman yells the answer and Hugo repeats it back to the audience and says “Sex work exclusionary feminism isn’t feminism. Sex work is real work!” It would have been so easy to also educate about TERFs. They don’t. The irony is not lost on me.

More trivia. I win one. I’m told, “Here enjoy these tampons!” I catch it and yell back, “Not all women have vaginas” I turn to the women at our table and say, “Hello, I don’t need tampons and I hate chocolate. Enjoy” They gladly accept. Back to the readings... A dramatic reading of Spice Girl lyrics. Some very heteronormative erotica. A reading of a radfem manifesto of the 70s (that included very acephobic commentary) And then, the woman painted as a MLP says she’s going to read Ivan E Coyote. Now, for those of you who haven’t been blessed with reading their works or seeing Ivan perform (I just saw them again last week!), they are a trans writer from Canada. Very well known in LGBTQPIA circles. AMAZINGLY pure and moving stories and poems and “literary Doritos”. They are an amazing human being and have quickly become one of my favorite queer authors. SO I AM STOKED!! This night has been so cishet heavy and I’m crank, I am READY to end it with Ivan. Ivan has written four of five books, has mountains of published poetry and she chooses to read a piece that is so personal to me. She prefaces this with a quick word about Ivan being an LGBTQ author. But fails to mention they’re a trans masculine person who identifies as a Tom Boy. The piece starts out as a love letter to femmes who are often erased from Queer culture because they are “assumed” to be straight. But then turns to Ivan’s journey through figuring out they were trans and how they became jealous of femmes sometimes and how they will never be seen as who they are. How they will always be coming out of the closet over and over and over. Because their identity isn’t “visibly recognized” because it’s outside the binary. I sob every time I hear this poem because it is so personal to me. The first time I heard it was when Ivan performed in Chch last August. I was in the midst of struggling with how the world saw me and this poem touched a part of me I thought no one would <i>ever</i> understand. I sobbed again tonight. My flat mate patted my hand. She sobbed too for the same reasons. The journey to figuring out your identity can be so isolating, terrifying and lonely. But when you hear your story being told by someone who is on a stage, with an audience, talking as if your journey was the most normal and natural experience....it’s an emotional time. After she finished, the performer stated “As a cis woman, I obviously do not identity with the narrator. I do however think this poem speaks to me as a femme. Because we are often overlooked.” (This gets cheers from the audience) I feel sick inside. This cis woman just spoke the very personal words of a trans person bearing their soul and claimed it as a poem for her. No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to bend it to your whim. If you want to include poetry or stories about the trans experience, YOU FUCKING INCLUDE TRANS PERFORMERS. Thank god the night was over. My flat mate and I are sitting at our table deciding how to make our own event called “Naked Queers Reading” and how much better it would be. We’re minding our own business when out of the corner of my eye I see a crowd around the stage area. Of course. There’s a man who has taken off his shirt to pose with the naked women so he can get his buddy to take his picture. Of fucking course there is. That’s when we left. I don’t know if I am just lucky to live in such a comfortable Queer circle of friends that I’ve become blind to the world of heternormative, patriarchal bullshit or if I am truly too fucking cynical to go out in public...but fuck was I disappointed with tonight. Anyway, if you made it through this entire post, thank you. I promise I’ll post a really lovely story about the library tomorrow. Right now I want to watch Ivan E Coyote performances on YouTube and drink my tea from my Unicorn Elixer mug.

#long post #feminism #tw: transphobia #nonbinary #transgender #about me 2k17 #story time #/rant

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romanticatheart-posts · 5 years

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The Royal Romance Book 1

Chapters 1-3

This chapter starts right after the boat tour to the Statue of Liberty that the MC took Liam on. It goes through chapter 3 as Liam’s POV. Some parts are canon, but the rest is my interpretation of how things were ‘behind the scenes’. If you have suggestions or requests, please leave a comment. I appreciate your feedback and support!

Pairings: Liam x MC (Catherine)

Warnings: NSFW, language Disclaimer: Pixelberry owns all characters.

Master List

Liam’s POV–

After the boat tour, you slowly walk Catherine back into town where the guys said to meet. With the limo in sight, you stop and turn toward her, taking her hands in yours and looking intently into her eyes. The sparkle you had seen earlier, is replaced with a hint of melancholy. She sighs. “Well… I guess this is the part where we say goodbye…” You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as her words hang heavily in the air… not certain how to say goodbye… not sure if you can… “I had a wonderful time with you tonight…” She smiles pleasantly. “So did I Liam…”

There is a slight pause in the conversation as she looks at you anxiously. “Catherine, meeting you has been the highlight of my visit to New York… I would be lying if I said it wasn’t the greatest thing to happen this entire trip. And as difficult as it is to say… farewell, I’m happy our paths crossed…” You sigh deeply. “… My only regret is that it wasn’t sooner.” You notice a drop in her expression. "I just wish we had more time…” You fight the urge to brush the hair back from her face… take her in your arms and hold her close, but you resist… knowing it will only make the inevitable harder than it already is. “As do I…” She looks up at you and her eyes misty. “When you asked me to join you tonight, I wasn’t expecting this to be so hard. I mean, we just met, but somehow, being with you just seems so… so right.” Her expression becomes more resolute. “Before I go, there is something I need to say…” You look at her, intrigued by this sudden determination written on her face. "Liam, you are perfect for me in every way. And, well… I know it’s not possible, but if you stayed… I think we’d have had something special…” She looks down again. “… now I’ll always wonder…” You swallow hard, trying to remove the lump that suddenly formed in your throat, your heart aching as her words penetrate to your soul. “Catherine, truthfully… this is not exactly how I want things to end for us either… and believe me when I say, there is nothing I want more than to delay my departure, but regretfully, staying is not an option… it’s not something I’m at liberty to decide for myself. Meeting you has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I will always carry a piece of it wherever I go… So much is unclear to me at this time, but one thing I know for certain… I will never forget you.” She looks down for a moment and then back up with a half-smile. “Neither will I…” “Catherine…” You lean down and kiss her tenderly on the cheek, savoring the feel of her skin against yours. She smiles then looks toward the limo and back to you. “Well, I guess I should go… you don’t want to keep the guys waiting…” You hesitate but then reluctantly release her hands. “Yes. I suppose you’re right… do you live far from here?” She motions up the street. “No. My apartment is just a few blocks over.” You smile. “Are you sure you’ll be alright? It’s quite deserted, perhaps I should walk you home.” She smiles sweetly. “No, no… we should just leave things here… no point in making this harder than it already is…” For a long moment you both stand, gazing into each other’s eyes as if frozen in time… finally, she breaks the silence with a sigh. “Well… good night Liam. It was very nice to meet you.” You choke back your own emotions. “Good night, Catherine.”

She smiles and then turns to leave but suddenly an overwhelming feeling washes over you. You quickly grasp her arm and pull her close, pressing your lips to hers one last time in a deep and passionate kiss… She melts into your embrace wrapping her arms around you. After a long moment you both pull back and she sighs. “You’re not making this any easier…” “I know I shouldn’t have, but watching you walk away… I don’t know what came over me…” She places her hand on your cheek and then she smiles. “It’s okay Liam… I’m glad you did.” You take her hand from your cheek and kiss it tenderly. “You are such an amazing woman Catherine… if only…” “Yeah, if only… but Liam, I hope you find what you’re looking for and that she’ll know how incredibly lucky she is.” You smile, trying to hide your grief. “And any man that captures your heart will be extremely blessed, Catherine.” “I’m glad you think so.” She smiles faintly. “Well…take care Liam.” All you can do is smile and nod as she slowly walks away… You stand there with a growing ache in your heart, just hoping to catch one last glimpse of her smile, but she doesn’t look back. As you open the door to the limo, you glance to the place you last saw her… your mind saying that letting her go was for the best… and yet your heart is not quite convinced.

Once inside the limo, the guys are talking non-stop about all the fun they had at the cove. You look around and notice Drake watching you. “So, where did you two wander off to?” “We took a boat tour to see the Statue of Liberty.” “Oh, I guess you were serious about that, huh?” “Yes. It’s something I’ve always wanted to see but never had the opportunity… until tonight that is.” “So how’d you manage to find a tour so late?” You look at Drake and see a familiar distrustful stare. “I didn’t. Catherine had a friend whom she said owed her a favor… and before I knew it, we were on a boat to see one of America’s most historical monuments.” “Must have been a pretty big favor… sounds a little suspicious to me.” “I assure you that whatever it was, she earned it honorably.” “Uh huh…” Tariq chimes in. “So are you saying that after one evening with the waitress, you can speak knowledgably about her character?” You sit up and square your shoulders, clearly not pleased by his candid remark. You can take Drakes sarcasm all day long, but who does Tariq think he’s talking to? "Her name is Catherine and I would appreciate you addressing her as such. An occupation does not define one’s character, nor does it warrant disrespect from those whose arrogance could easily be interpreted as ignorance.” "I’m terribly sorry Your Highness. I certainly didn’t mean to offend anyone.” Maxwell looks at Tariq with a quirky grin. “I guess you got served…” You glare at Tariq for a moment and then turn to look out the window. Drake clears his throat and then quickly changes the subject. “Ahem, so Liam, what time are we heading back to Cordonia?” You regain your composure before responding. “The three of you will be flying out at eleven.” “So, you’re not going back with us?” “No. There are some security concerns and Bastien is sending another plane with a few guards and I’ll be leaving a few hours earlier.” Tariq clears his throat. “Ahem… I suppose I should have mentioned it before, but I have scheduled a fitting for a custom suit in one of the finest shops here and I won’t be joining you until tomorrow.” “Well, I guess it’s just you and me Drake. We’re going to have so much fun!” Drake rolls his eyes and mumbles a response. “Great. How’d I get so lucky?” Soon, the limo comes to a full stop as everyone steps out and enters the hotel.

Once in the lobby, Maxwell and Tariq walk straight to the elevators, but Drake pauses and pulls you aside. “Hey Liam, you got a minute?” “It’s very late Drake.” “This won’t take long.” Reluctantly you follow him to the all-night lounge just to the right of the lobby and you both sit at the bar and order a drink. You turn to Drake. “Something on your mind?” “Uh, yeah. You wanna talk about what happened back there just now?” “What? Tariq? He was being a pompous ass and it needed to be said.” “I kinda enjoyed that actually… I’m talking about you and Catherine. I mean, from what I saw, it was pretty intense back there.” Drake has been like a brother to you for many years, and this behavior is typical. His concern is genuine, so the question is reasonable, but it doesn’t mean you are ready to answer just yet. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Well… I saw you kiss her just before you got in the limo and now you seem uptight… Is everything alright?” You laugh trying to avert the attention from your growing anxiety. “I have kissed girls before Drake. This wasn’t my first time.” Drake eyes you curiously, and his words never waver. “It’s not about that and you know it… you seem different…” “I do?” “Yeah, like maybe it meant something this time…” You look off for a moment and then turn back to him. “Is it that obvious?” “Kinda. Yeah.” “I suppose there’s no hiding it from you then…” You take a long drink and then sigh. “I’m sure you will find this quite amusing, but… you are looking at a man that has found himself smitten by the most amazing woman he’s ever met.” Drake looks at you with his mouth halfcocked, as if he is waiting for the punchline, but soon realizes this isn’t a joke. “Oh, you’re serious, aren’t you?” “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and I am just as shocked as you. I can’t explain it, but… I was so drawn to her… in ways I never thought possible.” “Well, she’s not hard on the eyes, but are you saying it was more than that?” “Anyone can behold her beauty, but what I saw went far beneath any outward appearances.” “Did you tell her you’re a prince?” “I might have mentioned it.”

“I knew it! That’s why she took you off to see the Statue of Liberty. She’s just like all the others…” “I have to disagree with you on this one Drake. She had no interest in my title.” Drake scratches his head, deep in thought. “Well… she did walk away, and I’ve not seen that before… I’m surprised she wasn’t all over you. At least that’s how most girls act when they find out you’re a prince.” “She’s not like most girls… she’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before. There is something different about her… something so unique… she wasn’t the least bit impressed by my being royalty. In fact, she just treated me like I was a regular person… it was refreshing and oddly comforting… I found it very difficult to let her leave…” “I get it…you care about her, but what about her…?” “Actually, she was quite open about her feelings which made it even more difficult to see her walk away. I’ve never experienced this before…” “So how’d you leave things? I mean, are you gonna try and see her again?” “Drake, with my responsibilities to the crown, you know as well as I that having a courtship abroad is out of the question.” “Did you consider asking her to come to Cordonia?” “She would need a sponsor… And besides that, I couldn’t ask her to give up everything she knows and fly half-way across the continent into a life she’s not accustomed to... let alone compete in.” You look off into the distance trying to imagine her in your world and then shake your head in resolve. “Even though we had this, this incredible chemistry between us… I just don’t see how it could work… You know how things are at court, it can be… daunting at times and...”

“Yeah, I see what you mean. It kinda scares me too...” “So you see, parting ways was the only possible outcome… We had an amazing evening together…one I will never forget… but I have to be honest with myself, I can’t hold onto dreams anymore and what I want doesn’t matter… I have a responsibility that not even you could imagine… I must learn to accept the things I cannot change... not only for my own sake, but for the sake of Cordonia.” Drake looks at you curiously. “Uh huh… I’ve known you a long time Liam and I’ll admit that I’ve never heard you talk about a girl like this before. Are you sure you want to just forget this… this ever happened between you two?” You smile with sincere appreciation, but the reality of your station overrules any selfish dreams you might have. “Tonight was a bittersweet end to this vacation and it’s one I will never forget… but I can’t forget my purpose either. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have an early flight in a few hours and I am quite exhausted. We can talk more about this after our return to Cordonia if you so wish… but it’s not going to change anything.” “If you say so…” You take the last sip of your drink, then stand. “I’ll get the tab…” Once you have paid for the drinks, you head for the elevators. Drake follows and not another word is spoken. He watches you thoughtfully, but out of respect, he doesn’t press any further. When the doors open, you both step out and head to your respective rooms.

Once inside your suite, you take a moment to lay back on the bed… staring up at the ceiling for what seems like a very long time. All you can think about is Catherine and how she was so attentive and genuinely concerned about your wants, your needs… she made you feel… alive. Your hopes and dreams… possibilities for the future. For the first time, someone saw you as more than just a title… more than a means to an end… she saw you as a man. It was a defining moment for you to realize that such a woman exists outside of your dreams… and lately, those dreams were the only place you felt at peace. Your hand instinctively reaches up to touch your mouth… you can almost feel her warm lips against yours. Your heart races at the thought of her body close to yours and for a brief moment, you smile… but then, a familiar hopeless feeling washes over you…

The desire to clear your mind is stronger than your need for sleep in this moment… so you stand up and walk to the bathroom, turning on the shower. After disrobing, you reach to check the temperature, then slip in letting the steaming water flow through your hair and down your body, almost like comforting hands. As you stand with your eyes closed, visions of Catherine start playing out in your mind. “Catherine…” Your hand instinctively surrounds your length… and with the feel of water caressing your body, you begin pumping as your erection begins to grow within your grip. Remembering her captivating smile… those irresistible lips… the curves of her body… and how the moonlight sparkled in her eyes… Her contagious laughter… the way her hair danced around her face in the wind… a vision of breathtaking beauty…

Your breathing wavers as you remember the feel of her lips on yours… the taste of her kiss… the feel of her arms wrapped around you… “Oh Catherine…”

You lean one arm against the shower wall so the water cascades into your hair, following the contours of your back and chest and then to your hand… still stroking, as images of her overwhelming beauty teases your senses.

“Catherine…”

With her name on your lips, your body tenses and then expels its energy…white streaks of silk raining onto the base of the shower as the water washes all traces down the drain. Afterward, you thoughtlessly begin washing your hair and then your body.

Once dried off, you collapse on the bed in complete exhaustion. When your alarm goes off only a few hours later, you rush to get dressed and pack your things. After arriving at the airport, you are whisked to the awaiting mode of transportation back to Cordonia.

The long flight back is almost welcomed, providing benefits on more than one level… much needed sleep for one… which in turn, will keep you from agonizing about how you let the most amazing woman slip away… Upon arrival back to the palace, there is plenty of activity in preparation for the Masquerade Ball tonight. You quickly make your way through the masses and to your room in hopes of avoiding any questions about the trip to New York, especially from your father. His constant reminder of the expectations of being the Crown Prince and political innuendos were tiring at best and after last night’s endeavors, you need a peaceful moment to mentally prepare for the ladies in waiting you will be meeting tonight. You take a quick shower and when finished you begin getting dressed for the ball. You try to avoid thinking of Catherine, but the memory of watching her slowly walk out of your life keeps playing over and over in your mind, taunting you. “(It was for the best…)”

You stand in front of a mirror, buttoning your vest and pulling on your uniform jacket adorned with its medals, and then reach up to straighten the bow tie. At some point, you’ll be expected to choose one of these ladies, as your bride and future queen… they are all familiar acquaintances, and not one of them excites your senses… not the way Catherine has… But you keep telling yourself that your own happiness is not what’s important… this decision will have to be made according to tradition alone… which means you will have to choose based on lineage and merit… nothing else.

As you stand facing your bedroom door, you take a deep breath and a peace finally washes over you. While you were not born to inherit the throne, fate found a way to demand it as your destiny… As next in line, you must embrace this longstanding tradition of country before self… even if it was against your will. With a determined sense of duty, you walk confidently to the entrance of the ballroom. Once the herald announces your arrival, you walk in and straight over to greet your father.

“I am happy to see that you have returned.” You look at Constantine questioningly. “Did you think I wouldn’t?” Constantine laughs. “No, no… I was simply hoping to have a word with you about the trip… before all this began.” He gestures toward the ballroom and turns back to you. “How was it by the way?” “It was quite possibly the best vacation I’ve had so far.” Constantine eyes you hopeful, and yet skeptical at the same time. “I’m glad son. You’ll need all your strength to get through this social season so it’s good to know that you were able to enjoy it.” “Yes, it seems that the last night was the most enjoyable…” You trail off, hoping he doesn’t question that statement. “That’s usually the way it is… So tell me, were you able to resolve any of the worries you’ve had regarding your new station?” You hesitate for a moment and then turn to him. “There are so many things expected of me and I can’t help but question my ability to fulfill them all?” “That’s understandable and quite frankly I had the same doubts before I ascended the throne, but with the many years you’ve spent in preparation, I’m certain you will rule just as I have all these years… maybe even better. But Liam, the obvious question is, do you wish to?” Not really sure how to answer, you look out into the crowd. Constantine sighs, knowing the trip was not quite the success he hoped it would be. “Liam, I know you were not born to be my successor, but if given the option between you or your brother, you are the better choice. I love you both equally, but you have the qualities necessary to govern over a kingdom. Your brother is more of a… free spirit. I have no doubts that you will one day reign in the same capacity in which I have provided and one of these ladies here tonight is destined to be your queen. You must consider the whole of Cordonia when making that decision… stability above all else. It is your responsibility as the Crown Prince.” “I know father… you’ve been very clear about my responsibilities and I assure you I will do my best.” “I know you will my son.” Constantine sees the uncertainty in your expression, but he doesn’t push further…

Looking around the room, you recognize all but one of the ladies as they stand together in conversation. Intrigued, you turn to Constantine. “Who is the girl wearing the angel costume father? Do we know her?” Constantine squints his eyes looking in the direction of your gaze. “I’m not quite sure… I don’t think I’ve seen her before… perhaps she’s an aristocrat from a neighboring country. She seems quite refined, but we’ll learn her identity soon enough son…”

Within minutes a line has formed to give reverence to the King and for him to meet and greet the nobles and ladies in waiting. You step a few feet away as another similar line forms for you, the Crown Prince of Cordonia. You happily exchange handshakes and lively banter with each noble and ladies in waiting, and then… you see Maxwell standing with this striking ‘mystery’ woman to greet your father and wonder why he hadn’t mentioned her on the trip to New York. Who could this beautiful woman be that the Beaumont’s have chosen to represent their house? You hope to catch her name as she is introduced to him, but as it would happen, you’ll have to wait to learn her identity until she is officially introduced to you. A short time later, near the end of your line, you see her waiting with Maxwell. As they inch closer, you suddenly become anxious, not really focused on anything else… all you can think about right now is how stunning she is.

As the last noble walks away, the mystery woman now stands before you, smiling. Even more stunning than you had recognized from afar. You smile warmly back at her.

“Hello. You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve met…” She stands in front of you and without blinking an eye she responds. “We’ve actually met once before.” You stammer, not quite sure how you could not remember such a beautiful woman. “Surely I would’ve remembered.” “I suppose this mask is doing its job.” Your mind races to all the places and people you’ve seen… not even one memory reveals her identity. There is something familiar, but pin-pointing it is just out of reach. “Will you give me a hint?” She thinks for a moment and then smiles. “You were surrounded by your men…” Clearly, she is making you work for it. You are always surrounded by someone… “That’s not much of a clue…” A mischievous smile forms on her lips. “…and you owed me a drink…”

Your heart skips a beat when you think back to last night and the lovely woman you bid farewell to... It can’t be! Can it? “Catherine… I thought I’d never see you again…" “So, this is a good surprise… I hope?” Your smile is as brilliant as the sun. “The best… but how did you get here?” “Maxwell and his brother are sponsoring me. He brought me here to join the other suitors.” Now it’s clear why Maxwell never mentioned it… She is actually here… The woman in your dreams… the woman that stole your heart less than twenty-four hours ago… the one you thought was gone forever… “Really? That’s amazing! I can’t believe you came all this way for me.” She lowers her voice and leans toward you. “Liam… I know we have something special. I want to see what it can be.” “I feel the same way.” You look at her closely, and the eyes behind the mask says everything else her words only hinted at… you are overcome with joy.

You reach out, touching her hand… but after only a moment your guard clears his throat, signifying this is not proper behavior for a Crown Prince. You quickly remove your hand from hers. “We’re not in New York anymore though, Catherine. The rules here are different. This entire series of events is designed not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, Council and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on everyone will be watching you.” You hope she doesn’t think you are scolding her, but you want her to understand what coming here means.

“That sounds like fun.” Relieved at her response, you smile. “I knew you’d be up for the challenge. I’m sure you’ll charm them, just as you have charmed me. Unfortunately, the receiving line isn’t the best place to talk. We only have a few more minutes before the next lady arrives…” “In that case, I want to know… are you glad I came?” “How could you even ask? I’m thrilled… I just hope you don’t regret coming here.” You hope that last statement doesn’t upset her, but you have to be honest… to yourself and to her. Things at court can get, well… for lack of a better word 'ugly’ at times. Nobles will go to great lengths to protect their status at court and they are not above a few underhanded tricks every now and then…

As the next lady approaches, your expression becomes regretful. “Sorry, but our time is up.” She sighs but smiles. “I understand. We really aren’t in New York anymore, are we?” You frown. “No. I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me.”

She smiles as Maxwell leads her away and you feel a pleasant tingle inside… an awakening perhaps… as if finally, the fates heard your plea for some shred of hope against all this madness that has surrounded you your whole life. The rest of the night finds you halfheartedly mingling with guests and getting trapped in mindless conversations, one after the other, but your thoughts are consumed by a nagging fear. This court can be vicious, and no one must know how you truly feel about Catherine. For her protection… you will make each moment with her as special as you can and hope that somehow you can make it work. As the night presses forward, you find yourself excited wondering if she is having an enjoyable time… wondering about the possibilities… wondering if you could ever let her go a second time…

As each moment passes, you find yourself searching the room… just to catch a glimpse of her… Each time she comes into view, you smile. There is no other that has captivated your heart quite like this before. The anticipation of where a relationship with Catherine will lead is almost as exciting as her presence… there is just something about her… Something fresh, bright, exhilarating…

Drake stands back behind the crowd as usual, so you make your way over to him. “Good evening, Drake. Enjoying the festivities so far?” Drake scowls. “You know I don’t care for this stuff.” You chuckle. “I appreciate you toughing it out for my benefit.” “Yeah, well, I guess that’s what friends are for.” Drake leans toward you, speaking in a low tone of voice. “Hey, did you see Catherine?”

You smile. “Yes. I was surprised to say the least… Any chance you had something to do with her presence?” “Maybe… I mean, after last night… I might have mentioned it to Maxwell, so… you can blame him if it don’t work out.” You chuckle. “How did you know she would accept?” “I didn’t, but I saw how she looked at you and I figured it was worth a shot. And I also knew the Beaumont’s were looking for someone to represent their house so…” “I can’t thank you enough Drake… this means more than you’ll ever know.” “Yeah well, since you insisted she’s not a crown chaser, I thought you deserved a chance to find out for sure…” “Any thoughts about her thus far?” Drake takes a sip of his wine. “She seems okay… less annoying than most of these people at court, so… not bad I guess.” “Is that all? I would think you of all people would have found at least something unpleasant by now.” Drake takes another sip of his wine and looks to where Catherine is standing. “Haven’t seen anything yet, but it’s only the first day…” You look over at her and smile to yourself. “It’s fitting that she is wearing an angel costume… she is stunning.” “Maybe… I mean, she’s not my type, but… I guess I can see the attraction.” You smile. “So, you think she’s attractive as well?” Drake almost spits out his drink. “I didn’t say that… I mean yeah, she’s not the worst I’ve seen…”

A few minutes pass and you turn to Drake with a request. “Can I ask you to do something for me?” “Yeah, sure.” You look back to where Catherine is standing and then back to Drake. “Since she’s not familiar with the ways of this court, and I will be occupied for the most part, I’d like you to keep an eye on her… make sure she has someone to talk to and help her navigate through this process. You are the only person I’d trust with this.” “So, I guess that means I’d have to attend all these… functions?” “It would mean a great deal to me Drake.” Drake thinks it over and then reluctantly agrees. “I’ll do it, but just for the record, I won’t be dressing up like the rest of ‘em.” “Thanks Drake. I knew I could count on you.” “And make sure there is lots and lots of whiskey…” You laugh. “I’ll make sure of it.”

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