#takes place during what are you wading for and on my mind

[jazzcat247]

You know what? Fr!ck me. *(slow burns your flippy x flaky ship)*

"Flippy is a real catch. He's resourceful, he's kind, and he's a hard worker. He even went to train for a war as a cub! I could never do that... Me? I'm just an anxious porcupine. I'm nowhere near his type."

"Flaky is... something special. She has a kind heart, but she's always willing to reach out to others. Not only that, she's also athletic, smart, and beautiful...!

She can do better than this old war horse, I'm sure...."

#happy tree friends #htf flippy #htf flaky #htf cuddles #htf giggles #htf fliqpy #flippy x flaky #cuddles x giggles #takes place during what are you wading for and on my mind #cuz i live for giving this plucky little show more depth than it needs #plus i just wanted an excuse to make a double date scenario with the most romantic and the most complicated ship this fandoms made

[star-wrote]

Daryl and reader’s first summer together ? Mood board or headcanon or whatever you like babes 😏🫶 I picture they’ve been together for the fall and a very long harsh winter, and the summer comes around and readers energy just starts to burst in response to the warmth and sunlight, and how that might look for them as a couple 🌻💛😁

Summer Lovin’

ao3 link

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Pre-Prison Era/After Farm Fell

A/N: tysm for the request love !! i adored writing this <3 also i’ve found that i struggle with staying in tenses so this switches from past to present tense :/ whoops

Warnings: typical TWD violence, poor mental health, fluff, angst

Word Count: 750

not my character | images from pinterest

Winter in the apocalypse sucks.

The group had been on the road for months now, grieving the loss of the Greene Farm; the loss of safety. Which also means the group was going through the harsh winter without a whole lot of warmth. Abandoned shacks and small campfires can only do so much.

You had been cold for too long, and you were sure that Daryl had grown annoyed with you complaining about your frozen toes when you huddled up against him at night.

Worst of all was your mental health. Obviously there’s always an air of depression, (it is the end of the world) but your thoughts were getting dangerously close to “hey let’s jump off that bridge!”

You didn’t want to burden Daryl, but after his gentle prying, you reluctantly agreed to tell him your thoughts. He did his best to reassure you, and he held you a little tighter that night.

Finally, the group had found the prison, a place that could be a forever home after the walkers get cleared. The weather had warmed up too over the last few weeks, and it was finally starting to feel like summer.

It was a pretty calm day, most of the group decided to relax for a day outside before trying to get into the prison. You recall passing a pond not too far from the prison walls. Deciding it was warm enough for a swim, you grabbed a blanket and your knife.

“Where are ya goin’ with that?” Daryl stepped in front of you, nodding at the stuff in your hands.

“Swimming. Wanna come with? I need a bodyguard.” You suggest while smiling up at him.

He grunts out what you have come to know as “yes,” and grabs his crossbow. “Ya sure it’s warm enough?”

You shrug. “Don’t care, I’ve waited long enough.”

He must’ve read your mind because he leads you out past the walls and to the pond that you saw while traveling with the group. You both quickly survey the area for walkers, feeling relieved after there seem to be none.

You strip down to your underwear and toss a smirk over your shoulder to a blushing Daryl, then giggle and wade your way into the pond.

Taking a moment to pause, you admire the sun reflecting off the water. You felt so happy in the warmth of the sun that you could cry.

Daryl watches from a distance, smiling at the peace and happiness that seems to be radiating off of you. He knew you had a tough time on the road during the winter. He was worried about you, but now he’s just glad that you’re smiling.

You swim and float around the pond for about thirty minutes, and then decide that you want to lay on the grass to dry off in the sun. You sigh as the warm grass envelops you.

“Come join me?” You smiled up at Daryl who was sat on a rock.

“Thought I was yer bodyguard.” He said while walking over to you anyway. He found out a long time ago that he couldn’t handle denying you anything.

You giggle as he groans as he lays down next to you. You start to cuddle into him but he gently shoves you away.

“Yer soakin’ like a wet dog righ’ now, dry off first.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, but comply. While putting on your t-shirt, you spot a patch of wildflowers and gasp. You run over to them.

This makes Daryl sit up immediately and grab his knife, anxiety filling his veins. He then sees that you found flowers and relaxes.

Walking over to you, he scoffs. “Scared me half to death, girl.”

While you were smelling the flowers, Daryl crouched down and picked one. He gently moved your hair out of your face and tucked the flower behind your ear. You blush and kiss his cheek.

“I’m glad yer feelin’ better. Was worried ‘bout ya.” He looked away for a moment, then back into your eyes. “Don’t know what I’d do without ya.”

You felt your heart flutter. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

You hugged him tight and stayed like that for a while. You started to hum a song and swayed in his arms.

Daryl scoffs and loosens up so you can sway his body for him. “Whatcha doin’ girl?”

“Dancing with you, duh.”

He smiles and tucks his head into your hair. “Please never stop bein’ you, sunshine.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl x female reader #twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl imagines #angst #fluff #request #daryl dixon request

[fantastic-nonsense]

yeah I'm just going to swing a bat at the hornet's nest and wade into the discourse: Tim and Damian were canonically mutually jealous of each other during the pre-reboot era for (ironically) pretty similar reasons, and getting mad about WFA acknowledging it is an indication that you care more about defending your fave than you do about actually understanding what happened and how they've both grown beyond it since then. Is the Tim-Damian conflict in WFA the same as it is in canon? No. Does it have a solid, factual basis in Tim and Damian's canon issues? Yes.

Tim was jealous of Damian principally for two reasons. One, as a brand new adoptee, he felt incredibly insecure about his place in the Wayne family; Damian's demands to be treated with respect because he's Batman's biological son and his constant insults of Tim because Tim isn't hit Tim hard because of it. Tim feels like he's had to work incredibly hard to earn Bruce's love and respect while Damian gets it by default (which....lots to unpack there, but moving on), and the hurt that this causes combined with Damian's arrogant and cruel dismissal of Tim as a member of the family simply because he's not biologically related influences Tim's continued negative opinion of Damian. The dinosaur incident also doesn't help matters. Thus, he's resentful that Damian was (from his perspective) immediately accepted into the family despite his behavior towards them and hurt because he feels like his own place in the family is being denied by the newcomer.

Two, after losing so much and so many people and finally achieving a tiny bit of equilibrium in his life when Bruce adopts him, Damian shows up and, in his mind, more or less replaces him as the center of everyone's attention. This isn't really Damian's fault (his upbringing, trauma, and learned behaviors make him an incredibly difficult child who needs a lot of time, care, and attention from the adults around him), but Tim is right in that the second Damian shows up, he gets somewhat de-prioritized and trusted to handle himself in a time period where he's emotionally vulnerable and desperately craving positive attention and validation from his "new" family.

These feelings get touched on in multiple issues, particularly Batman & Son and Red Robin #1:

"What about us?" /// "If he is my son-even if he's not-he deserves some love and respect." "So let him earn it, like everyone else." -Batman #657 (Batman and Son)

"How can you let him wear that costume, Dick? What earth are we on that you choose him over me?" /// "Sorry, Drake. You're still part of the team--maybe the Batgirl costume is available." [Tim punches Damian in the face] "My name is Tim Wayne!" -Red Robin #1

Are Bruce and Dick actually choosing Damian over Tim? No, they're not. Dick is actually explicitly trying to express that he loves, respects, and trusts Tim (both as a person and as a competent vigilante) by calling Tim his "equal" and giving Damian the Robin mantle. But Tim is insecure and hurting and grieving throughout this entire period in his life, and he isn't thinking the most rationally about the situation. This is a moment that very reasonably feels like a betrayal to Tim, who sees it as Dick taking away the one stable thing he has left in the aftermath of Bruce dying, and then Damian walks into the room and implicitly denies him a place in the family. He feels replacable and unneeded, and his jealousy and resentment of Damian throughout this period are ultimately less about Damian personally (any personal dislike of Damian he has is largely due to other issues) and more about his own emotional instability and the insecurity he feels as an adoptee.

Meanwhile, Damian was jealous of Tim for the exact same reasons that he's jealous of Cass in Gates of Gotham: Bruce and Dick's easy trust in and respect of Tim, both as a person and as a vigilante, and the fact that Bruce chose Tim to be part of his family and never chose Damian (even though Bruce accepted him anyway). He views Tim as a threat and rival for his father's affections, and to that end his constant insults towards Tim tend to lean in two directions: undermining his place in the family and undermining his competence as a vigilante. Both types of insults are the direct outgrowth of Damian's own insecurities about his place in the family.

Damian has a notable and recurring desire to feel useful, competent, and accepted within the Batfam. It's explicitly what Damian wants most in this era: to be accepted and for his skills to be recognized. Dick even comments on it during the Hit List arc: "he practically bleeds a need to be accepted." In many ways, Damian thinks that if he’s not succeeding at proving his competency and usefulness, he’s failing at proving he’s worthy to stay in Gotham, and his consistent prickliness towards other people is often a front to cover up his insecurities about these things. This crops up pre-reboot literally as early as Batman and Son:

"But she's not there now, is she? Because she wants something from Great Britain in exchange for the life of the Prime Minister's wife and I think I know what it is." "It's Gibraltar! She wants the garrison at Gibraltar! See? I can be useful!" -Batman & Son (2006)

And as late as Gates of Gotham, when he gets angry and snappy at Cass because she pulled him away from disabling the bomb at Elliot Tower (in his mind, undermining his competence as a vigilante) and promptly starts insulting her behind her back:

"Cassandra's not useless." "No. She's spineless, naive, and fragile. And I don't trust her." "You don't trust anyone..." "And your eagerness to trust makes you weak." "Well, deny it all you want...but I think we both know the only real reason you don't like her...is that she's just one more person your father picked over you." -Gates of Gotham #3

It's also explicitly noted during the infamous Red Robin Hit List arc, where Damian talks about how "it isn't fair" that Tim still doesn't trust him despite all of the work he's put in to change his thoughts, behavior, and tactics from how he was taught in the League. He lashes out at Tim during "The Hit List" because he'd finally gained some measure of trust and respect from Dick and some personal equilibrium in his life...and then Tim comes swooping back into Gotham after having gained the respect of Damian's grandfather and proceeds to unearth the surprise revelation that Bruce (the father who rejected Damian) respected Tim enough to hand over (nominal) control of Wayne Enterprises to him, poach on his quality time with Dick, and continue to distrust Damian despite his very real struggles to change.

You feel a lot for Damian during the Reborn era because you can chart a direct path between the hurt he feels at being seemingly rejected by the one person he'd desperately wanted approval from for years–Bruce–and the ways in which he lashes out at Dick, Tim, Alfred, etc when suddenly not too long after that incident Bruce is dead and he's stuck with this group of people who clearly and obviously don't like or trust him. He's constantly trying to prove himself as worthy of being there and, very reasonably, gets frustrated and hurt and angry when his efforts are met with continued distrust and hostility.

Tim's continued lack of trust (which Tim has for good but genuinely misguided reasons!) feeds into Damian's resentment and jealousy of him; this is especially true given that Tim is consistently portrayed as competent, trusted, and deeply loved by basically every other member of the Batfam–particularly by Dick and later Bruce, the two people whose opinions Damian values most–during this time period. So yeah: Damian is jealous of Tim too, and his behavior towards Tim is largely indicative of that plus his frustration at Tim's continued distrust of him. His methods of dealing with that hurt (cutting Tim's line and trying to fight him afterwards) are absolutely unacceptable and are treated as such, but they come from a totally understandable place.

Luckily "The Hit List" is basically THE lowest point for Tim and Damian’s relationship. It starts improving immediately after this; multiple writers showcase a definite shift in Tim and Damian’s dynamic after that point, and by the time we get to Gates of Gotham (the last time they interact pre-reboot), we were getting scenes like this:

Gates of Gotham #3

They were absolutely still prickly and kinda rude towards each other (and I wouldn’t necessarily say they liked each other), but they had very clearly grown, were on much better terms, and were able to trust each other while working and fighting together. They've both individually matured and grown enough to the point where they're able to start moving on from that initial period of distrust and jealousy and move forward into a new era (and then we get the reboot, but that's a different discussion for another day).

tl;dr: Yes, Tim was jealous of Damian. Yes, Damian was jealous of Tim. Those are both objective facts that canon addressed and dealt with in a variety of different ways throughout the pre-reboot era. Tim and Damian are jealous and resentful of each other largely because they're two traumatized kids who feel deeply insecure about their place in the family and the utility of their skills in a time of immense personal upheaval. Neither of them are totally right; neither are totally wrong. Both of them act terribly towards each other because of it, and I refuse to let people blame the entirety of this conflict on one of them or pretend like their mutual jealousy of each other didn't exist and didn't contribute to their behavior.

#this is not my full tim-damian post because their relationship is (again) COMPLICATED AF #but I figured I'd address at least this portion of it #tim drake #damian wayne #tim drake meta #damian wayne meta #dc comics #wayne family adventures #wfa spoilers #canon vs fanon

[melanieph321]

Request 1: can u do no son of mine 3 pls (ik i’m late) but j more maybe where the reader goes in the pool with him and the aunts are romanticizing and the uncles r making sure he doesn’t get toó touchy

Request 2: Hey, can I request Ruben where the reader is pregnant & has symptoms but just blames it on other things, like bloating/eating bad food. Ruben picks up on this and suggests that she may be pregnant? Thank you x

Ruben Dias x Reader - No Son of Mine Part 3

Enjoy!

Another day was spent around the pool. The São Paulo heat made it impossible for any other activity during the summer. You were glad that you and Ruben would be going back to England soon, although you would surley miss your parents, siblings, aunties, uncles and all of your cousins. Being surrounded by a big family made you feel very loved and safe. And you were greatful that the they made Ruben feel the same way.

"Y/N, come on, join me!" Ruben said, whom for the second time urged you to abandon your taning bed and join him in the cool water.

"I'm good here, thanks." You said, to Rubens obvious disapointment. He returned to the children, but did not play with them with the same vigor as before.

"Look what you did." Your aunty hissed. She sat two taning beds down from you, next to your mother and sister. "If you don't join that man in the water right now, you know damn well who will."

"Who?" You frowned.

"Me." She chuckled.

"And us." Your sisters second.

"Me three!"

"Mom?" You gasped.

"We will all go."

Your oldest aunty stood, letting her robe slide off her shoulders and  onto the taning bed. She wore a yellow bathing suit, proud to show it off.

"Alright ladies, let's go!"

"But..."

One by one they all got up, leaving your side to join Ruben, your fiance, in the pool.

"Where are they going?" Your uncles appeard, all of them as confused as you.

"To swim with my man." You muttered.

"Nah uh, not on my watch!"

Your uncle stripped himself of his shirt, dive bombing into the pool without hesitation. The children screamed whilst the aunties laughed and soon everyone jumped in, everyone except for you. But you set your self on the edge of the pool, the fear of being the odd man out if you didn't.

Your feet dangled in the crystal-clear water. The summer sun beating down on your back, warming your skin. You watched the others have the time of their lives, splashing around. You were anxious to join them, something holding you back.

Your stomach churned, the feeling uncomfortable. You had been feeling bloated for the past week, with intermittent headaches and bouts of nausea that left you feeling exhausted. It had become increasingly difficult for you to keep up with your daily routines, and even the idea of slipping into a swimsuit seemed daunting.

Ruben noticed your drifting gaze and waded out of the pool, his wet hair dripping onto his broad shoulders. Sitting down beside you, he gently placed his hand over yours.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" He asked, eyes filled with concern.

You sighed, voice trembling with uncertainty. "I don't know, Ruben. I just feel off lately. I'm bloated, and I've been having all these strange symptoms. It's been bothering me all week."

Ruben's brow furrowed as he listened attentively. He had noticed the change in you and understood the unease, however he was one step ahead of you.

"Have you considered taking a pregnancy test?" He gently suggested.

Your eyes widened, breath catching in your throat. The idea had crossed your mind but seemed too daunting to confront. You had been hoping that the symptoms were just a passing phase or perhaps related to stress. However, Ruben's suggestion made you realize that it may be time to face your fears.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to check," You said, wavering between apprehension and curiosity.

Ruben squeezed your hand reassuringly. "We'll do it together. Whatever the result, we'll face it together and support each other."

Together with Ruben you pushed yourself up from the pool's edge, and together you made your way towards the house. Thankfully your family was too busy to notice.

Entering the bathroom, you unwrapped the pregnancy test while Ruben stood beside you, facing the door. His presence provided much-needed stability.

Silence enveloped as you followed the test instructions, the anticipation reaching its peak. After peeing on the stick all that was left to do was wait. Ruben had stopped facing the wall and held you in his arms whilst you waited, your hearts beating in unison.

Moments later, the test's results appeared, and you gasped, tears pooling in your eyes. Ruben's grip around your hand tightened, his own excitement evident on his face. The test was positive, revealing the beautiful and unexpected answer to your worries.

Overwhelmed with joy and disbelief, You and Ruben embraced, your laughter filling the bathroom. In that moment, all fears and uncertainties melted away, replaced by the exhilaration of new beginnings.

"Do we have to tell your dad?" Ruben spoke into your tight hug. "I don't think he'll be happy to know that I got you pregnant before our wedding."

You laughed. It felt so good to laugh again. As the news sank in, you realized that your worries and discomfort had not been in vain. They were simply a prelude to the miracle growing within you. And with Ruben's unwavering support by your side, you knew that you were ready to embrace every step of this journey, no matter where it led you.

You squeezed his hand, "No, let's tell everyone!"

#fanfiction #man city #manchester city #football imagine #ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst

[ethelcain-songs]

Crying During Sex Ethel Cain

I sing the lord’s euthanasia blues When I take you and your brother in the back pew Drive into the median, keep myself from eating and wonder why I feel so sick Tradition’s ligature marks always yellow through

I lied when I said I didn’t want you In no time, you’ll forget the way we were supposed to be Asking what I’m on this time, holding on to you like I do Like we’re the only people in the world god left to mind to

Two drowning coals won’t ever light But if I ask you to, you’ll warm the night

If I want you like I said I’d never do I would hold my breath and sit down next to you Terrified you’ll bite the hand that needs you And right now I need you I don’t know what happened I don’t know what happened I was young and sweet And then something happened Something overwhelming Something everlasting

Time drags on I hate him for the time he’s gone I’ve been here for weeks, I’ve been here for years I’ve been here too long I forgot what stop means Either I drink it or the boat sinks It’s easy for him to get out of me What I’ve been praying will get out of me

Will I always be crying during sex with you All my dreams take place in heaven where it’s quiet, lying next to you Heavy breathing and sighs, bruises between my thighs, look me deep In my eyes like I’m a river worth wading And if I’m crying, it’s because I’m in love

And I could love you if I tried And I’m trying I’m trying, I’m trying, I’m trying

#ethel cain #crying during sex #unreleased songs

[sciderman]

I love the Cable hate recently because honestly that’s my favourite thing about Cablepool, the fact that Nathan truly is the biggest prick (and has the biggest prick) and only Wade seems to realise that, especially during the Cable and Deadpool run: the world sees Cable as strong and intelligent and cool, and Deadpool is calling him out for being lame and a dick. Meanwhile everyone in the world only sees Wade’s flaws, while Cable has heart eyes every time he looks at Wade.

Spider-Man (at least early on): “I could fix him.”

Cable, holding a collar and leash: “Grow up. I think the atrocities he commits are funny.”

NATE IS SOOO... i'm obsessed with his ridiculous mind. he should not have that much power. he should not have that much power.

nate does want to fix wade, but nate is so deeply flawed and controlling and hardly the barometer for you know. moral good. and i'm obsessed and constantly thinking about nate's backwards logic in justifying that wade is a good boy by consequentialism alone. it doesn't matter what wade's intentions are and whether wade had any say in the matter over anything - if, in the end, wade "behaves" it doesn't matter how much nate had to interfere and force wade's hand to get that outcome.

nate: "he did the right thing." everyone around him: "you literally fucking rearranged all variables around him so that he had no other option than to do the right thing." nate: "he did the right thing and i'm proud of him."

i'm obsessed with you nathan. full offence what the fuck is wrong with you.

i always say that's kind of just... that's why nate and wade just couldn't ever be healthy, and why peter and wade are just... healthier. because nathan wants control over wade - basically, wants control over everything. wade's intentions don't matter as long as the outcome is desirable. wade can't - wade can't actually turn a new leaf in those circumstances. because he's a disobedient dog, and he will growl and bite and kick if someone tries to control him.

and wade is so aware - wade knows nate is constantly exerting his will over wade's actions.

lord mama they are so fucked up... they are so fucked up...

i think that's why 9319 peter (my beloved) is so good for wade - because he pointedly - pointedly does not want to exert power over wade. he doesn't want responsibility over wade. wade has to make his own decisions. peter is hands-off.

wade isn't a child - or an animal that needs to be tamed. and peter's been all about this since the beginning.

peter knows that a man is the product of the choices he makes. i think peter kind of embodies the power of choice - peter makes the conscious choice to do good, despite his own wants and desires. he could be bad. he could be just like wade. and he knows it.

he doesn't intend to rob wade of choice. he knows how important it is. he knows how important it is that wade makes the choice for himself, to be better.

he doesn't want to take credit for wade's positive change. it's his.

and it makes peter's pride in wade just, all the more sincere. because he knows it's all him. it's all wade.

is peter frustrated that he can't do more to help? endlessly, yeah. but i think he accepts it - that he's powerless.

nate wants so badly to be wade's saviour.

and peter - i think peter's accepted or is learning to accept that he can't be. and kind of never wanted to be, in the first place.

i think it's why wade is kind of scared of the term "hero" - because he's never felt like the hero in his story. he's always felt like a victim of the narrative, or his actions were somehow influenced by someone else or the desire to impress someone else. he has very little trust in his own power of will.

it's a sore spot.

once again, wade attacking peter parker for something he feels guilty of himself. letting outside forces influence his choices rather than taking ownership of his own decisions

the original.. FUN fact. the original draft of civil war was so much more overt about this, actually. and i can finally share the panel. i can finally share the panel from the original draft of that post. it's wild. i don't really remember writing it, and i don't even have the rest of it. but bex saved this one panel and i think about it a lot. out there in the cosmos is an alternative version of that civil war argument that i guess i didn't go for. i think the uncle ben thing worked better. but. still. i love the red art. red is so sexy.

i think wade's whole outrage in civil war with peter was the whole discredit to wade's change. the second that peter put the tracer on wade, PAIRED with the confession that morning, made wade feel all kinds of "oh. i finally qualify for his love." feelings. and it made him angry. because it made wade feel like all the positive change he made wasn't actually for him, but peter's will all along.

god. i got so carried away here. but yeah. wade is all furious about this because it's something nate would pull.

long story short, wade's tired of being controlled, but he's still in the mindset that he's being controlled. by whatever. by peter. by nate. by the author (me) (he's wrong, by the way).

yadda yadda yadda, wade learning he has power. he has free will. he is capable of change, and he's not at the mercy of nathan fucking summers or the narrative all the time.

i think it's fun actually that wade has this perception of powerlessness and an absence of free will in his relationship with nate,, and peter is (unintentionally) teaching wade how he has power over his own life and power over other people and with great power c

#sci speaks #of course nathaniel DID gently nudge wade wilson down a path in 9319... gently... sure. sure. gently. #we'll say gently.

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

Fic Writer Interview

So I decided to snag this from @sparklepocalypse and fill it out because I'm cozy on my couch on New Year's Eve and fighting off a nap like a grumpy toddler. I'm actually fairly certain I've done this one before, now that I think about it, but oh well. The numbers are different since last time, so...

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

60, apparently! 61 being posted later today!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 

178,579

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ghosts

Do we still have forever

Volume Control

Retaliation

Modification to the map of you

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I respond to each and every comment that I receive. I try very hard to leave a personalized message for each person, but no matter what, even if it's just a "thank you," I will always respond! Even if it takes me some time!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

To this day, the angstiest ending is Darkest before the dawn, which ends with hope, even if it doesn't end with an actual resolution. It's during canon, so the reader know what happens next.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I think my most recent Christmas fic, Oh what a laugh it would have been, has probably now overtaken one of my previous fics for overall happiest ending!

7. Do you write crossovers?

I haven't yet, but I'm absolutely open to it given the write parameters!

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I haven't yet, and I hope I never do, although I know that the internet can be a wild place.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

If you'd asked me back in July of this year, I would have said that I primarily write fade to black. Since then, I've written ridiculous amounts of smut. I'm still learning about various kinks I'd like to write about, because I don't want to just write without knowledge of the act itself, but I'm wading into the smut-verse now. I'd say the water's up to my knees, at this point. Got a ways to go.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, not that I've been made aware of, but I think it would be so neat.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't but catch me and @thinkof-england cowriting something amazing now that the new year has arrived.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Y'all are gonna need to sit down for this. I don't think you're ready. Deep breath in. Hold it. Now let it out slowly. Calm your mind. Are you ready? Okay because I know this is going to come as a shock to you when I say that it's FirstPrince.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

A Star Trek fic with Jim Kirk x an OC. I started it back in the spring and then RWRB happened and now it's just languishing away in my docs at just shy of 18,000 words.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told that I have realistic dialogue, so I'll count that as a strength. I also think I'm pretty skilled at metaphors. Love a good metaphor.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

The description of surroundings, including clothing and scenery. I feel like I don't do enough of this sometimes, and I'm trying to better at painting a proper picture.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I've done so! Lots and lots of research and consultation with native speakers to confirm accuracy.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Pirates of the Caribbean, apparently.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

There isn't really one out there. I'm super content with the permanent campsite I've built in FP land. Hopefully I'm allowed to hang out there for quite some time.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

How am I supposed to pick a favorite out over 60 fics?!

I suppose if I absolutely HAD to pick right now, right this second, I'd say Ghosts, because the prompt for it as my first ever reader-submitted prompt on a comment from another fic. The reader enjoyed my fic so much that they asked if I'd write another, and Ghosts it what came of that interaction. I loved writing it and sharing it not just with that reader but with the fandom as a whole.

Gonna post my tag list for anyone who wants to participate!

@adreamareads @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @daisymae-12 @duchessdepolignaca03 @gayrootvegetable @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @indomitable-love @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @leojfitz @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @ninzied @priincebutt @read-and-write- @rockyroadkylers @roseharpermaxwell@ships-to-sail @songliili @ssmtskw @statueinthestonetoo @stereopticons @suseagull04 @thinkof-england @tintagel-or-cockleshells@user-anakin @vanillahigh00 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew 

#fic writer interview #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #rwrb fanfiction #my fics #my writing #my wips

[your-next-daydream]

I love your work (as I'm sure you already know lmao), and I know you're getting kind of sick of writing for just Wade 😭 so I came to request some other marvel characters for you

I was wondering if you'd mind doing some headcanons/drabbles for Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker, Loki, Thor, and Bucky Barnes with a reader who's really big into body modification? (Piercings, tattoos, etc.) Even if they don't have that many themself, they're really knowledgeable about stuff like that and find it really fascinating

I look forward to your take on this ❤

I'm combining these requests because they are fairly similar, and I'm trying to get rid of some of my Wade requests that have accumulated. Im also making this as gender neutral as possible since no piercings that require heavily specific body places were requested. I'd like to make mention that I'm a tattoo artist and piercer myself, so I'm very glad I got these requests.

****************************

Natasha Romanoff

She doesn't have that much of an opinion whether her partner has body modifications or not.

That being said, she'll ask questions on if your tattoos have meaning or not, and she'll raise an eyebrow if they don't.

When it comes to piercings, she likes to play with them when she zones out. You two will just be casually laying down, and you'll randomly feel light tugs at your facial or chest piercings if you aren't wearing a shirt.

When it comes to your tattoos, she'll trace the shapes and designs during meetings. Or whenever she doesn't have anything to do when she's bored and wants to touch you.

Admires the fact that you put yourself through pain just to gain artwork on your body.

Wanda Maximoff

She, on the other hand, was confused about why you would willingly put yourself through that.

She's not particularly a fan, but she wouldn't mind too much if you had body mods.

"Are they safe?" She'll ask anytime you wish to get a new one.

After a while, they'll grow on her, and she'll really like them. Mainly because it's a you thing, and she adores you.

Anytime one gets infected, she'll help you out with it. She'll give you a look that says, "Are you so certain these are safe now?"

Doesn't like the smell. I know you know what I'm talking about

Peter Parker

Loves them

Will ask if you want to get a matching piercing on the ears (face ones would interfere with a mask like his)

Whenever he sees jewlery that really reminds him of you, he'll get them if he can.

He'll also play with them if he's zoned out and just whenever he's in private with you.

If you get spider tattoos, if you're in the know about him?

He's kneeling, on the spot.

Asks so SO many questions.

"Did you get the tattoos for meaning or because they are pretty?" "Did you get that pierced for fun or for pleasure?"

If it's for fun, he may not toy with them much in fear of hurting you. If it's for the other one on the hand? He may try to use those to his personal gain.

Loki

He loves the ones on the pleasure spots.

He'll be all over them the second he knows about them/they are healed.

Admires the fact that you put yourself through pain just to adorn yourself.

If he knows the hole won't close up after you take one out. He will magically remove the balls on the end to mess with you.

Ends up having to get you new ones

If you ask nicely enough, he'll consider getting matching ones.

They find out a little late that he doesn't like people with sharp objects near his face.

Needs "restorative cuddles" to fix his pains.

Thor

He's the one to ask, "But what would happen if a magnetized object comes near them?"

He's trying, poor, uneducated soul.

He doesn't mind if his partner has them or not.

He likes poking at your body.

"You are not an ordinary human, I love that about you!"

Asks if you plan to get another one!

(Please get the word play...)

Asks if he can watch the piercing/tattooing/body mod process.

Doesn't enjoy watching you in pain.

Has flipped a table.

He's no longer allowed to go.

Goes anyways

Bucky Barnes

Not particularly a fan of intentionally putting yourself through pain.

If you explain why you do it, then he might be more understanding.

Will ask with a serious face, "Does my arm technically count as a piercing?"

He also likes fidgeting with them and will accidentally lose an ending on a piercing.

Also asks to go with you, he doesn't speak for the most part and let's the people do their job.

He says he didn't like seeing you in pain, but it's something you wanted, so he didn't really have a say.

Doesn't really care what you do, as long as you are happy.

Wade Wilson

Shoots a hole in his ear/face and shouts..."Twinsies!" With a mock giggle

"What the fuck Wade...?" "Aye...you're dating me...and fucking me for that matter."

Would actually get piercings or such with you without a fuss.

If it wasn't for the super healing, that is.

He'll just admire yours from right up close and personal with you.

Will ask if you would consider getting certain mods.

Definitely asks if you'll get the ones on your more pleasurable areas.

You have to remind him you don't heal as fast.

Loves your body and your mods.

#marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fluff #marvel #marvel headcanons #marvel fic #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #mcu imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #loki x reader #loki laufesyon #thor x reader #thor odison x reader #thor odinson #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #wade wilson fluff #wade wilson x reader

[amazing-spiderling]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤

HECK. Ummmm okay okay... I'll do my best.

Surface Tension

I'm taking this opportunity to highlight a fic that I wrote for an anthology I put together with a team of *very* talented writers and artists, Metal Gear Solid: Lost Years. I had wanted to tell a story about Hal's isolation and vulnerability in his youth, the aspects of his past that made him an easy target for predatory behavior- and even though this story isn't particularly long, I think it's the one I spent the longest working on (in a words per day sense). Writing this story made me dead sure that Kojima was referencing the movie "The Graduate" when it came to the Emmerichs, and I tried to channel that sort of listlessness into this story. Because it was for a zine, I don't think it got many hits or comments, so I'm putting it here now.

The Man in the Mask

My own little "hit in the face by Apollo's red playground ball" of a fic- I actually wrote this Spideypool AU to deal with my frustrations regarding the handling of asylum seekers at the border- but the pandemic aspects of the story ended up hitting very close to home for everyone just a few years later. Fun! This is one of those stories I thought of as a "weird one that nobody read" but when I looked at my actual hit counter, I saw it had proven more popular than I realized, so that's good for me? It's a bit of a bottle episode that is more about Wade and Peter than Deadpool and Spider-Man and has a more sedate tone for most of it, but I'm partial to the way the story unfolds.

Pictures of You

Another Metal Gear story, this was for the Otasune Zine "Let the World Be". I got to team up with the incredible Harshai who did the illustrations for this story in the zine. It's a collection of moments during Dave and Hal's Philanthropy days, each one with an accompanying photograph. It's a pretty soft one, but one that comes to mind a lot, especially when I'm in the car and staring out the window at the landscape, thinking about these two on the open road. It also comes to mind every time I see a ridiculous food challenge posted on a restaurant wall. I need to see about getting permission to share the art in the posted fic, because I think it really adds something, especially the last image which was a polaroid of Sunny besting Hal's time eating the enourmous burger.

Five Years Later

Yeah, it's a WIP. What are you gonna do about it? Back from hiatus, it's the second installment of a "mostly MCU compliant" Spideypool "met as childhood friends" AU that my friend @343enderspark and I have been working on for years. In this portion of the story, Wade is dealing with life in a world without Peter (oh, and half the population, I guess) and slowly starting his journey of training and eventually becoming the person he was meant to be. (And the Defenders show up because I literally could not resist.) I got to try my hand at writing a lot of different characters in this fic, so it's been fun to flex those muscles. We had a long break between the first and second chapter, but we're back on track and CH 3 is drafted and waiting on edits, so that should be out soon. :3

Home's Around the Corner (It's a Long Way There)

More WIPs? Yeah. More AU's? Double yeah, because this one is more or less an AU or an AU. XD This is a new project I'm working on with @blissful-thinker that's Earth-65 but a step to the left, where Matt wasn't adopted by the Hand, but ended up staying with the Chaste, and returns to New York City years later only to find out he doesn't really have a place in his old home anymore. (Or does he?) This one has been a lot of fun and allows me to write one of my favorite things- tired DA Nelson, and also too-big-for-her-britches Gwen, haha. It may be niche, but it's *my* niche.

#i was sent this twice but i'm only gonna do it once #this is bullying i'm being bullied #daredevil #metal gear solid #spideypool #my fics #earth-65 #otasune #mattfoggy

[frogsandfries]

I'm so exhausted.

Okay, look, I know I seem to be expressing a lot of physical exhaustion lately, but this is more in regards to my increasing exhaustion with what the internet has become: One giant, inescapable, smothering advertisement.

I probably only want to cry about it right now at this very moment because I'm so tired, but I mean, honestly, if I'm not crying over it, I'm seething over it.

So you, a corporation, you don't want to pay your employees fairly or properly, and you then expect people who can barely afford their rent, never even mind their stupid health insurance or any of the other expensive life necessities, you really expect them to turn around and spend every last of their five remaining dollars on your piece of cheap shit instead of a cheap loaf of bread which will at least allow them to get through the next few days??? Unlike your stupid foot soak boot things, hey epsom your tired feet while you clean your apartment after work--multitask, grind, hustle!! But also, treat yo'self and self-care.

There's no fucking point in having fucking adblock, because when I go to research how to get better at my hobby, google wants to shove a dozen more products that I neither need nor want down my throat. The only way to improve a fucking smart phone is to make it a better shopping device. "Hey look, do you see something irl, maybe during your vacation or just out and about for the day, and you need to buy it right fucking here and now?? Buy our fucking phone because it will help you have fifty afterpays instead of the usual five that you're constantly balancing at any one fucking time."

As someone who used to be curious to learn, I still remember when the internet was seen as a way to exchange knowledge and information, and sure, if you're really, really good at using the internet, or if you're incredibly resourceful, and lucky, and maybe find a group on like Discord or Reddit or maybe Facebook, full of people who share your general interest, and maybe they have the knowledge you're asking for readily at hand.

But it's bullshit. The more and more ads in a row, video after video, song after song, that I have to wade through to get to the information that I came here for, the less interested I am in things like Youtube for information and learning. I really have cut myself off from learning, because increasingly for years, it's been harder and harder to actually use the internet to learn anything.

The internet has become a giant screaming relentless bright flashing fucking billboard advertisement and I'm just so.......done.

Look, frankly, I miss having books in my home. Books aren't very reasonable for lugging about the country to your next couch. But that lifestyle is behind me. Books don't constantly advertise at me. The index in the back of the book doesn't make me watch a fucking ad to figure out how I'm supposed to be doing this next part of my project or how I can up my skill at this thing I'm trying to learn or improve at.

And whenever the hell I decide to leave my meat-suit, donate my books to a library if no one in my family wants them.

I'm just so fucking exhausted. I'm doing relatively financially okay right now. I have money to pay my bills and feed myself and still grab a couple things most paychecks. It is currently often a choice between improving my household or taking care of my physical body, or taking care of my emotional well-being, but that's fine. A privilege, really, compared to the places that I've been.

But I don't have the buckets of disposable income that the internet seems convinced that I do.

The internet was supposed to be a beacon of information sharing and a new fucking era of communication.

I don't think anyone foresaw it being a capitalist hellscape. It feels like I can't move through reality or cyberspace without being screamed at on all sides to spend out every last dime on things I don't want, don't need, and am extraordinarily NOT interested in.

I'm so exhausted. I'm so sick to my bones, my guts, my soul.

The thought of escaping into the mountains, becoming a hermit, never to be seen again, becomes increasingly appealing.

#internet #enshittification #capitalist hell

[alj4890]

Snap

(Bertrand Beaumont x MC) in a Choices Royal Romance Drabble

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge with the prompt: a kiss to end sexual tension.

Masterlist

A/N There's no way on earth I can do justice to Bertrand x MC like @harleybeaumont is doing with her series, Never Have I Ever, which if you haven't read it- go do it now! She made me fall in love with the idea of these two together, so I have been inspired to try my hand at a drabble with them, LOL. In my HC for this, it was Bertrand who met Riley and invited her to be Beaumont's suitor that fateful night in New York. No Liam, Drake, or Maxwell involved with that initial meeting. He only wants a suitor to keep up the pretense that House Beaumont is still in good financial shape. A poor waitress in want of a change of scenery seems like the perfect last resort.

The Night of the Beaumont Bash...

Once the king and queen left the party, Bertrand began to relax. After months of pretending all was as it should be, he'd finally gotten through the biggest subterfuge of the season. He grabbed a bottle of champagne from a passing waiter, popped the cork, and took a long swig straight from the bottle.

I did it, he thought. I gave a dinner that impressed their majesties. Guests are dancing without a second thought. No one is the wiser to how I've struggled to pay for all of this.

He could finally relax in not having to host the court for at least another year. After the coronation, Bertrand Beaumont could return to work on expanding his sparkling wine business. He'd already received orders from New York. Many of the hotels he visited during that trip a few months back had finally paid off. He had contracts in place for his wines to be front and center at many of their bars.

His gaze landed on the other windfall he'd acquired during that trip.

Riley Brooks was wading through the guests, smiling and talking to many she passed. Who knew when he wandered into her bar that night that she would end up here as an official lady of the court vying for the hand of Cordonia's future monarch?

He certainly wouldn't have thought so, given he asked her to come here while slightly inebriated on cheap whiskey. What woman would take an invitation like that seriously from a foreigner who was drenched from searching for a taxi in the rain?

Though he at first thought it would end up being an unmitigated disaster, she'd impressed him with her willingness to learn and do all that was asked of her.

He grimaced somewhat as he took another gulp from his bottle. When the horses were brought into the ballroom, he made his way out of the chaos. He knew Maxwell would keep the party going at full force throughout the night.

No need for me to remain here, Bertrand thought.

He glanced back once more to see Riley atop a black horse. Her eyes were wide with alarm yet she kept a smile firmly in place as she joked with those nearby.

I should have been nicer to her.

He slipped into his study, did a quick sweep to make certain no one had sneaked in to get up to anything scandalous, and settled on one of the well worn leather couches.

That last thought revolved around his mind as he finished off half the champagne. He'd been hard on her throughout the lessons and what should have been pep talks before each event. Instead, he found himself being overly critical with Riley, demanding she do nothing to embarrass the name of Beaumont.

He dropped his head back on the cushions and stared up at the intricate crown molding dividing the ceiling into numerous rectangles.

Why couldn't I be honest with her and admit that I'm more worried about my own failures as a duke being revealed than any faux pas she could possibly do? Who cares what fork she uses? I'm the embarrassment! She's been nothing but an angel to come and try to help a stranger live up to a falsehood.

Bertrand's attention drifted over to the two portraits framing the fireplace. His father's and grandfather's stern expressions reminded him of the legacy he was forced to live under. He knew he should be grateful for the life and position he was born to, but there were times he wished he'd simply been born a commoner. He wouldn't be under this constant struggle to be a duke of renown, one who must always be ready to show nothing but the best at a moment's notice.

But that's exactly what he had to do. No escape from such a fate. No surrender either.

He raised the bottle to his lips, completely ready to drink himself into oblivion, and paused partway when he heard the doorknob click.

Riley quickly skirted inside then shut the door behind her. Her eyes were closed while her chest heaved with stuttered breaths. A light sheen of sweat glistened upon the skin revealed by her deep blue gown.

"Is something the matter?" Bertrand asked.

She gave a startled yelp, tensing with her hand upon the doorknob. Once she recognized the voice and the man sitting in the dim light, she released a deep breath then proceeded to walk towards him.

"Not really. I suppose I got a little claustrophobic in the ballroom." She sat down on the same couch he was on. "Actually, I got really claustrophobic. The animals, acrobats, guests...it became too much."

Her eyes dropped to the bottle in his hand.

"That isn't because of me is it?"

"Hmm?" He flushed some over being caught imbibing in such a manner. "Er, no. I suppose I got caught up in celebrating this season nearly being over."

She smiled softly at the sight of him finally cutting loose.

"Could I have a drink?" She asked.

"Of course!" He clumsily got to his feet. "Where are my manners?"

Riley reached out and stopped him from going over to a well stocked sideboard.

Bertrand watched in amazement as she took his bottle and tipped it to her lips.

She took two gulps then handed it back to him.

"Thanks." Her smile grew bigger. "I really needed that."

He chuckled, settling back down beside her.

"Lady Riley?"

"We're alone, Bertrand." She reminded him. "You can call me by my first name without the honorific."

"Of course." He raised the bottle once more to his mouth.

It struck him that his lips were touching the very object hers had mere seconds ago. Heat began to spread throughout his body. He gulped down a mouthful of champagne in his haste to stop his wayward thoughts.

She was his savior. He had no right to think of her in any other manner. No matter how often he found himself thinking about what it would be like to have her for his own, he knew he had to treat her with nothing but respect. She was a lady in every sense of the word. She deserved better than anything he could possibly offer her.

Plus, why would she ever want me after how I've treated her?

"Bertrand?" She prodded.

"Yes?"

"What were you going to ask me?"

Color flooded his face over being so distracted.

"I..." He averted his eyes from her lovely face. "I suppose I was wondering if you enjoyed yourself this season, save for the recent bout of claustrophobia."

"I have." She turned towards him, tucking her feet under her skirt. "I've been to beautiful places and met so many interesting people."

"Many interesting people?" He snorted while offering her more champagne.

Riley giggled while taking another sip "Okay, you caught me. There are a few I enjoy talking to."

"I hope I'm on that exclusive list."

"Of course you are on my list!" She reached for his free hand. "How could you not be?"

Bertrand lowered his eyes to her hand slipping into his. Swallowing nervously, he pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles.

"I know I haven't controlled my temper very well these last couple of months." He admitted. "I do hope you accept my apology for my abominable behavior towards you when you've been nothing short of a blessing. I don't know of any lady who would willingly help a destitute nobleman keep his pride in place ."

Riley laced her fingers with his. "You have nothing to apologize for. You've been a perfect gentleman." She playfully shook his hand to get him to look up at her. "You were stressed. Anyone would be with all the pressures I see you under."

"Still," he hesitated, "in case I don't show it, I am forever grateful I met you my last night in New York."

"Me too." She smiled softly at him.

****************

Two months earlier, New York City...

The night Duke Bertrand Beaumont walked into the bar Riley worked at had been a godsend. She was desperate to find a new place to escape. For the past year, she'd been moving from one city to another to escape an abusive ex-boyfriend. He loved to stalk her and adhered to the many orders of protection she had filed in every city she lived in.

Trace liked to reveal his presence while maintaining the distance he had to keep from her. She did everything to hide where she was. She deleted all her social media accounts, cut her hair in a different style, dressed differently, and made no lasting friendships. She'd thought she would lose him in New York City, but somehow he found her.

She was exhausted from having no safe place left to run to. She'd been in the process of searching for a new state and city to disappear in when a poor guy walked in, dripping from head to toe. One look at him made her cautious heart soften. She'd quickly poured him a drink, gathered some clean bar towels, and tried to make him more comfortable.

He expressed his thanks, his gaze lingering on her as she went about refilling drinks for the few other patrons. She'd come by every so often to top off his glass, insisting it was on the house.

"There's no need." He tried to insist.

"Everyone deserves kindness after being caught out in the rain." She propped her elbows on the bar, tilting her head as she studied him. "Your accent, I can't quite place it."

"I suppose you don't get many people from Cordonia in here." He mumbled, nursing his third glass.

"Cordonia?" She narrowed her eyes in thought. "Where's that?"

"Europe, of course." He grumbled. "The Mediterranean."

"I've always wanted to go there." She smiled softly. "Go to Italy and Greece. Eat good food, drink even better wine, and relax at some beautiful vineyard."

"I have a vineyard."

Her eyes widened. "You do?"

"I do. I inherited it. It's been in my family for hundreds of years." Bertrand explained.

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through photographs of Ramsford to show her.

"It's beautiful!" Riley exclaimed.

"Yes, it is." His lips curved. "It is the reason why I'm here in America."

He somehow ended up giving her his life story. She listened, occasionally asking a question, and prepared him a cup of coffee once he began to slur a few words. When he was finished bemoaning his fate in not having a suitor for Prince Liam, she spoke up.

"Does the suitor have to be a noble?"

Bertrand shook his head.

"Does she have to be from Europe?"

"No. She can be from any walk of life." He eyed her. "You could be House Beaumont's suitor if you wished to."

"I could?" Riley thought Europe would give her the perfect buffer she needed between her and Trace.

"Yes." He grimaced somewhat. "Though with my financial situation, I can't give you much of a wardrobe. I'll provide the rest such as your flight, place to stay--"

"I'll do it." Riley told him. "I don't know much about courtly manners , but I'll do my best."

"I can teach you." He staggered to his feet. "Whatever you need to know, I'll do my best to tell you."

"Great!" She clasped her hands together. "When should I be ready to leave?"

He blinked at her. "I intended to return home in the morning, but I can delay--"

"I'll be ready." Riley checked the time. "My shift ends in an hour. I can be packed and ready to meet you at the airport whenever you wish."

"Why?" He couldn't help but ask. "Why are you willing to come with a man you don't know?"

Glancing about at the now empty bar, she shared her own troubles with him. Bertrand listened, his brow furrowed over the genuine fear he could easily detect in her voice.

"I can help you keep up appearances." She explained. "And you'll be helping me find a place to stay while figuring out what I should do next."

He couldn't see any reason not to follow through with this plan. If it ended up being beneficial for her as well as himself, then what harm could it do?

He held his hand out.

Her face lit up with a relieved smile.

Once she grasped his hand, Bertrand cleared his throat.

"Our flight leaves at four a.m."

*****************

Bertrand found himself staring at Riley once again as silence fell between them. They were both lost in thoughts of the past two months. Between the dress searches, lessons in court etiquette, and dance lessons; the two spent a great deal of time together.

Maxwell befriended Riley right off the bat and was more than ready to do all he could in making her stay with them as pleasant as possible. As much as she enjoyed spending time with the fun loving noble, she tended to gravitate towards Bertrand. There were many evenings that she would seek him out to talk about an event. Their conversations then turned towards more personal matters.

It was in those moments she allowed herself to daydream of Bertrand pulling her within his arms and finally giving her the kisses she desired. She had steadily grown more and more attracted to him as time went by. It wasn't just that she found him handsome. Riley ended up liking everything about him.

Bertrand discovered the full story of her background. He found himself in awe of her inner strength as she faced life alone. He at least had Maxwell to turn to when at his wit's end. His brother might not come up with the most feasible ideas on how to handle their financial problems, but he was at least able to give the emotional support Bertrand needed. Riley was truly on her own. No help. No true home. Nothing at all.

Bertrand thought her generous, never shirk her promises nature shouldn't exist after all her hardships. To see her still have an optimistic outlook on life was something he himself wished to have for his own somewhat jaded self.

Riley in turn was amazed at all that Bertrand had done with his duchy. Though born to a life of privilege, he hadn't been afraid to roll up his sleeves and start revitalizing a business that had been treated by his late father as nothing more than a hobby. As he shared pieces of his teen years spent in charge not only of his younger brother but also in keeping their duchy afloat, she grew more impressed. She could see the affection he had for Maxwell through the gruff spoken memories. She also saw just how deeply he cared.

He wasn't one to run away when the going got tough. She couldn't recall knowing anyone in her life like Bertrand. She wished she had someone like him to be there as her rock throughout life.

Bertrand's eyes drifted along her face. He tried to avoid all the thoughts of how irresistible she looked with her bare feet tucked under her skirt. The soft light from the sconces caused her tan skin to practically glow. He wondered if it was just as warm to the touch as it looked.

He glanced down at the nearly empty bottle of champagne resting between them. He might need something stronger to help control those thoughts of his.

Riley reached for the bottle at the same moment he did. She jerked her hand back as if burned. She knew it was foolish to dream about a future with the man who hadn't shown any interest outside of friendly regard for her. She was nothing, no one, in this world of his. Just because he invited her here and helped her appear like she belonged, it didn't mean that she did.

She couldn't fall for the lie they were living in, no matter how much it was becoming a dream of hers.

Bertrand picked up the bottle, a little shaken by her reaction to his innocent touch.

Grimacing over the little bit of champagne left, he set it on a table.

"Care for something stronger?" He asked.

"Sure." Riley got up the same time he did. "Why don't you relax and let me make the drinks?"

She winked at him to hopefully diffuse the tension developing once more between them.

"After all, I'm the one with the most experience with mixology."

He nodded, attempting to be pleasant.

"I'll leave it to your expertise then."

She smiled at him on her way to the sideboard.

"I think we could both do with something both simple yet strong enough to get the job done."

Bertrand raised an eyebrow in question.

She returned with two tumblers filled with his favorite whiskey.

"Excellent choice." He murmured in approval.

"I try."

She sat down a little closer to him. Neither was sure if she'd done so consciously or not.

Bertrand angled his body a bit more towards her. He held his glass out for a toast.

"To a successful end."

Tears sparkled in Riley's eyes. She tapped her glass against his.

"The end." She mumbled.

She wasn't ready for it to end. She didn't care that all the balls and such were nearly over. It was the thought that once Liam was crowned king, she wouldn't have a reason for remaining at Ramsford.

With Bertrand.

Bertrand hesitated, then set his arm along the back of the sofa. His fingers brushed her bare shoulder as he leaned a bit closer.

"Riley? Are you crying?"

"No!" She angrily wiped at the tears that proved she was lying.

"What is it?" He scooted closer to her. "Did I say something to upset you?"

"No. Yes." She gulped down her glass without worry over how it might look. "It's nothing."

"I beg to differ." His hand now rested on her shoulder. "I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything that worries you."

She bit down on her lip, swirling the dregs of whiskey around and around her glass. She knew if she told him she didn't want to leave that he'd find a way to allow her to stay. She didn't want to be a burden on him.

Perhaps she could find a job here. Make Cordonia her home. Surely he would continue their friendship after all they'd been through. She could bury her feelings that he couldn't possibly share.

"I suppose, I mean, I don't really..." She raised her eyes to his. "I don't know what to do once all this ends."

Bertrand's lips curved. That was something he could actually help with if she allowed him to. Even if he was the only one suffering with longing for her to stay here with him, perhaps he could at least persuade her to remain in Cordonia.

"There's no reason to rush on deciding what you want to do next. You're a member of my house now."

"I am?" Riley asked.

"Of course. We sponsored you. I'm afraid you're a Beaumont in the eyes of Cordonia whether you want to be or not."

"I want to be!" She clasped her hand over her mouth for nearly saying all she did want.

"Good. I don't think Maxwell and I would know what to do with ourselves if you decided to leave." His hand trailed down her arm to tangle with her fingers. "You would be greatly missed, my lady."

"I would miss you." She said softly. "I was thinking that I might like living in Cordonia from now on."

"Excellent." Bertrand lifted her hand once more to his lips. "Then it's settled. You'll remain here with us." He flushed thinking that she might take that as he meant to keep her here forever. "At least until you find somewhere you think is more suitable."

She laughed at the notion that anywhere would be better than Ramsford.

"Thank you, your grace."

Riley pulled their clasped hands towards her and rested her cheek against them. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as a warmth seemed to infuse her body. She knew it wasn't the whiskey, it was the knowledge that she wouldn't have to leave his side anytime soon.

Their unspoken feelings intermingled with months of suppressed desire between them began to stretch taught, like a rubber band being pulled to its very limit.

When she pressed their hands to her cheek, Bertrand inexplicably leaned forward, drawn in by the feel of her skin and the look in her eyes.

Riley's own body swayed towards him as if pulled in by some magnetic force. She didn't bother to fight it. She knew deep down she was tired of the nightly battle.

Bertrand let go of her hand. Once free, he slid his hand along her cheek and on into her hair. His fingers dislodged some of the pins holding her hair in a formal updo. Waves of silly brown hair tresses tumbled over his hand.

Riley's breath caught with the first feel of his lips against hers. Their hesitancy brought out her own boldness. She gripped the collar of his shirt, and yanked Bertrand against her.

Their mouths crashed together as they surrendered to what had been smoldering between them after all this time. With clumsy effort and a few sounds of ripped cloth, Riley managed to stretch out underneath Bertrand as their kiss dipped into carnal territory.

His tongue plunged and retreated between her plump lips in a heady rhythm that made her head spin. The feeling of her hands drifting down his back, pressing him as close as her ball gown would allow drew moans from him.

He dipped down to kiss along her bare shoulders, traveling further towards the hint of cleavage peeking from her dress.

Riley arched into the feel of his mouth at last on her skin. Her fingers gripped his hair as he fanned the flames she'd done her best to keep at bay.

He slid back up, his mouth once more slanting over hers. All his imaginings of how she would feel and taste could not measure up to finally discovering the truth. He was drunk on her and needed more.

They broke apart to momentarily stare at each other in amazement. Their breaths intermingled as they fought through their haze of desire to finally say the words they'd kept secret all this time.

"Riley, I've been--"

"Bertrand, I need to tell you--"

They both froze when the door clicked open.

"Where did I put that flail?" Maxwell mumbled as he began to search through the bookshelves that held some weapons of old.

His back was to the couch. He was completely oblivious that anyone else was in this dim room with him.

"Hmm?" He stepped back, bumping his hip into the end table that the empty bottle of champagne sat upon.

"Crap!" He lunged to grab the bottle before it tumbled to the Persian rug.

He froze when he saw the tangle of limbs on this end. One set looked suspiciously like the type of slacks his brother usually wore. The other set had a similar tan like Riley had.

His bright blue eyes curiously made the slow path up, catching sight of the familiar blue gown he'd picked out the night before, his brother's formal vest, and finally to the panicked faces of the two people he adored the most.

Maxwell's gasp seemed extra loud in the silent room.

"O.M.Geeee." He whispered. "Are you two--I mean were you...umm..."

Bertrand dropped his head momentarily against Riley's shoulder. Of all the people who could discover them like this, he was both grateful and frustrated that it was his brother. Gratefulness though seemed to be winning out the more he considered the situation.

He could feel Riley shaking underneath him. Worried she was crying again, he quickly looked up at her.

Tears of mirth were in her eyes as she shook with laughter. It bubbled up as she kept him close to her.

Bertrand's own chuckle spilled out as he realized there really was no point in denying it any longer.

He pushed himself off of her then tugged her into his arms.

Maxwell's jaw dropped at the sight of his brother being so affectionate with someone.

"I can only speak for myself," Bertrand declared, "but yes. As for me, that is a yes to your question."

Maxwell stared wide eyed at Riley's face.

"That's a yes from me too." She pressed a kiss to Bertrand's cheek.

"Oh!" Maxwell's dimpled smile burst forth. "This is huge! What are you going to do?"

"I don't know about you," Bertrand got to his feet, "but I feel a great deal of longing to be in my bedroom."

Maxwell's eyebrows shot up, nearly disappearing within his hairline with his brother's next words.

"Would you care to join me, my lady? I know we won't be disturbed in there."

Riley nearly tripped over her skirt as she hurried to her feet. Grasping his hand in hers, she gave a brief nod.

Maxwell could only watch as they walked out of the study, as if they had all the time in the world, their arms wrapping once more around the other.

#thirty kisses in thirty days #bertrand beaumont x mc #trr bertrand beaumont #choices the royal romance #choices trr #the royal romance #choices #choices the stories you play #choices crackship #super long post

[stylezxsilvermoon]

the secret charm: chapter two: the windowsill where the birds sing

❝but I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time, honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time,I got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined, I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!❞

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

CHAPTER TWO: THE WINDOWSILL WHERE THE BIRDS SING

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

WORD COUNT: 3379K

Harry

The birds chirped through the calm autumn wind, soon to be cascading to warmer climate, I was sure. I strolled through the halls endlessly looking for an answer to a question I hadn't yet asked if that made any sense at all, which I was sure it didn't. But regardless I felt myself feeling that way anyways. A certain type of disturbance drifted through the air drifting rudely through the smell of her iridescent pink perfume as it was sprayed through the air.

My nose cherished the smell as it was all too familiar, I followed it down the hallway like a mouse through a maze. Scents can transform you and transport you to unknown places and even memories you wish had never come about just by catching a whiff of them again. Endlessly hoping I would meet the girl whom the scent had belonged to once I had found the source. Suddenly, I was hit with a sense of nostalgia when I was met with my chamber doors in the castle that held so many memories, the weight carried was massive, difficult to take on at once.

And there, I'd thrown the double doors open I was met with her, Dolly. Princess Dorothea Coleman standing at my bedside, eyes brown with specks of golden dancing within them, within her. She said nothing as her eyes moved with my body. I entered the room, silent as a ghost awaiting enrapture. Her eyes looked as if they were trying to possess me, and I was awaiting enchantment, bearing all my own to her.

I took a breath for as my eyes broke away from her and I peered outside the window as the clouds cast a shadow over the sky as I frowned. Disappointed at the gloomy sky that had presented itself over the castle. I sighed and thought to myself.

Such time had been distorted through trickeries and fabled tales flooded through my mind. Old letters of reverence and abhor, maps and bouts of time and periods long forgotten rushed through me as I tried to sort it all. But most referred to dates in time as AHA or BHA. Long ago, before my father had feuded with the incompetent Lorixian's, before lands were settled and lines were drawn in the sands of times, and later crossed. Many referred to the great war between our two countries, as The Harmonious Alliance War.

Before the bloodshed was just Harmonious Alliance, exactly what it sounded like. But it had been long since then, and it had indefinitely raged on throughout wading waters of decades and centuries. Unlike during harmonious alliance, or DHA, the before time, the calm before the storm. In that time although, Elles and Lorxix were harmonious with one another, hence the name, quite fond if my history serves true.

That was until the most impure of the bunch of Lorixian's laid their dirty boots in soil in which they clearly did not belong, and it had started a war, the HAW. Setting flame to a long raging fire difficult to put out even with the greatest of extinguishers, because that fire grew and grew out of envy and desperate revenge and redemption. Back then, when my father ruled and birthed another war, new betrayal created fresh wounds and even fresher bloodthirsty vengeance was the second war, HAW II.

And that prince of theirs better hope I don't follow in my father's footsteps, because another war between the two of us would surely tear us apart. Limb by limb, vessel by vessel, street by street, and. nerve. by. fucking. nerve. And to do what needs to be done, the changes need to outlive us, grow evergreen and forevermore, run free and run rampant of the tyranny and the chains of anger and pain. But for now, I ran on it, we ran on it, it was our oxygen, our blood, our morphine for the pain.

Burning flames trying to heal old wounds only gets you so far, but that is what continued to rule us, head, and heart.

And now, in 300 AHA (after harmonious alliance); royal courts were roaring with excitement for another member of the Styles' reign to be inaugurated to the higher levels of royal status, King.

Although I am the younger of the heirs to the throne, my older sister princess Gemma had refused the throne... and bestowed it to me. And, since it was tradition in our family for each royal to be crowned at the age of twenty, my crowning would be at the end of the school year at Ethelle charm school.

Standing dauntingly, at nineteen I had already been promised one princess, Dorothea the princess of Dirie. Everything was simple, as my mother had told me... everything had pattern for rhyme or reason. On the day of May 20th, 290 AHA, is the day I'd met Dorothea, then I did not know of her importance, but now today I've known her for half of my life. I looked to her with an intention of passion, but instead my presence was cold, because of the matter of circumstances we'd been put in.

Every heartbeat fell behind in the everlasting clock of time, the regal, prominent aura had faded from within me. And it was replaced by rage and judgement, and I had known exactly who to blame, he tainted my thoughts. Albeit sudden, I felt Dorothea's presence behind me, cool and tranquil like the sea as it steadied me. I turned to her as I'd studied her face, an emotion I'd seen planted on its hundreds of times before, she smiled up at me with a promise of faith as I did the same.

"Harry, my darling, what's wrong?" she inquired quietly, eyes beaming up at me like the light of the summer sun. I peered at her, struggling to find the words that answered her question, finally my lips parted as I spoke to her. "It's that prince of my enemy kingdom, oh I just can't stand it... to think of him going about in the castle knowing the history behind his bloodline. Its treacherous, and I simply don't like it." I admitted with disdain and a bit of a scoff of arrogance as Dorothea glanced at me with worry as she cupped my jaw and looked into my eyes as we communicated without saying anything at all.

"He's still an aristocrat darling, one of us. I don't like it either, he'll be going to our school. So perhaps, you might have to get used to it, he's an ally of my kingdom, so I have no problem with him...although I hate seeing you upset." Dorothea explained, looking at me with reason as I threw the need for reason away quickly and snapped angrily out of her hold and walked over to the over side of the room in a fit of confusion.

"God, you're right... I need a cigarette." I muttered angrily as I walked over to the opposite side of the room, again. Pacing as she waved me off and sat quietly on the loveseat on the right side of the room. I nervously lit my cigarette as I watched the lighter flicker in the palm of my hand. Quietly the flame died as I'd closed the lighter, I pondered to myself that the flame diminishing could mean something... a metaphor for something in the moment. I was burning out.

The pressures of royalty was nothing out of the ordinary for an aristocrat, someone of high royalty such as me. But I'd learned the difficulties only continued to increase throughout the years. Despite that, I knew that it'd be worth it in the end, my public persona was my main concern. As well as the opinion of the public and the high society. To stay at the top of the chain was my only goal, to never lower.

I knew I'd deserved everything I've been given, after all I was of royal blood. High standards were something I'd been held up to since the age of ten, after all I was to expect the unexpected and uphold all of my morals no matter the troubles it would cause.

With no doubt, I'd expected this year at Ethelle charm school to be pivotal and of most importance. And, since the school is located in my homeland, I knew that I'd have to try my very best to retain composure. Especially with that cursed Louis thrown into the mix, as well as many crucial events to be hosted this year.

The final reigning year at Ethelle charm school in it's history was always legendary, there'd be balls each season to celebrate the hardships of a royals job along the way. Along with what everyone was looking forward to at the end of the year, the crowning ceremony... or at least I was. Since the beginning of the existence of Ethelle each royal is crowned at the end of their 4-year term at the legendary school. But this years would be even more special than the rest, since I would be crowned King at the finale of the year, the school hosting a whole separate ceremony in my honor, courtesy of the woman who made it all happen.

My mother, Queen Anne Styles.

Ever since the war, my mother had built the kingdom stronger than it ever was from the ground up, rallying the people's spirits as well as enhancing their knowledge of our power and presence. Through my childhood I had always looked up to her as an example of how to rule our country fearlessly and flawlessly, without any hitches. However, my mother could be quite strict, and some could say, tyrant-like. In that sense, that's what had separated my own morals and wishes from my mothers, not to rule over with dominance, but with a sense of understanding and a type of charming presence I would continue to expertise throughout this year. My plan was flawless, tailored by my mother and fit uniquely to my needs. I would be like no other King that had ruled over the lands of Elles. And with my elaborate plan, failure was out of the equation entirely... I was sure of it.

I drew my cigarette from my mouth as the smoke billowed around the nearby vicinity as I relished the expensive smell of the smoke and its toxins. After a beat, I walked over to the loveseat and sat next to Dorothea without saying a word. Silently I turned to her and offered a hit of my cigarette as she looked to me in the upmost peculiar way, I raised my eyebrow at her behavior as she peered at me with a blank stare in return. Nonetheless, I looked to the large bay window as the rain swam in the pavement below my chamber's window... the droplets beginning to collect at a faster rate as the rain continued as I sighed.

"Dolly darling," I asked, turning to her once again "Tell me, why do I hate the rain so much?" I questioned out of pure curiosity as she played with one of the strands of her close to her face as her eyes searched for an answer out of the multitudes of words she could say. "Well, I don't know quite why... I suppose that's a question for yourself. But perhaps because the rain is gloomy and I know you'd wanted to go out into the garden... there's a such thing as umbrellas, Har." She answered, I smiled at her not because of her words, but the way that she said them. Dorothea was a lady of class and high standard, everything about her simply enchanted me. I enjoyed her company because of the sheer combination of power the two of us had together, and because her eyes reminded me of amber stones glimmering for my enjoyment only.

The power that was bestowed upon me the moment I was born had always surged through me, and I used it to fuel me. Much like the kerosine to a dangerous open flame, the height of the power fueled me, but if it were to get out of control it would all destroy everything we had built. And that was one thing I didn't plan for in advance... for everything to fall apart. Still, I fear that I should consider it soon because this type of ascendancy was a fool's paradise. And on this path, I'd soon be joining the long line of royals before me, to be doomed from the unfortunate bliss of their fortune.

Dorothea

Waves of him washed over me like an everlasting wave of melancholia and charming gazes. His eyes, the most delicate shade of green, encasing anything they landed on with mysterious enrapture. His skin, much like expensive pearly-colored silk that only one chosen could ever dare to touch. His presence itself was sacred, causing me to go absolutely starstruck in the silence of the rain. I was hopeless to his temptation, it was almost as if he was all mighty. His existence was known to all and not unknown to any. Harry Styles was the prince of Elles, and soon to be King.

I was the princess of Direnia and soon to be Queen of both of the lands when we were to be wed, but not by choice. Harry and I were both set in an arranged marriage to promise peace between our two kingdoms. But, by doing that it backfired on their plans to remain separate kingdoms, forcing them together, creating unwilled unity. Riveted by his gaze I might be, I still had my own morals and goals despite us courting to be married one day. I was still a princess of my kingdom, a woman of my word.

However, this year I had hope of advancement along with twists of adventure along the way. Everyone that had attended Ethelle charm school knew two things; Harry and I would be the center of attention, and this year was absolutely pivotal for all of our lives. Every single shadow that was hidden from view would be shot out of the dark with lights and fireworks bright enough to burn the doom and despair out of anything. All had predicted great fortune and new life would come to pass out of the new turn of a decade, as well as a new monarch to reign for the first time in many decades.

It was a marvelous event for all to see, parties, balls and drama to rule out throughout the course of the year. However, there was a downside to the momentous occasion, the pressure of everyone's eyes on your every move, it was daunting. Like a predator stalking out their prey, each morsel of a moment would be devoured if not hidden from the prying eye. The pressure could very well easily exceed the tolerance of even the most highly trained royal. The papers would write some of the most absurd things your eyes could ever see, and all you could ever do was deny.

Though, the real trouble with a royal's life is when they are determined to keep secrets from the public, in my own circumstances it's impossible to keep a secret from citizens of your own country. Its almost if, through hiding it you somehow heighten their suspicions, and the secret is outed with a single word being spoken. Silently, hushed clandestine destinies spread like wildfire, impossible to contain... easy to corrupt.

Still, that was one thing about my kingdom that I'd cherished and welcomed into my state of mind. Familiarity was key, secrets were never kept, and bonds were never broken. Unlike the Styles the Coleman's were, but an ode to Harry as well though he was of their royal blood. The Styles' were spitfires of passion and a ferocious need for power and control that burnt out much too fast. But then, there was something odd and contrasting about Harry's demeanor.

He cherished the flame he was given, he had never let it burn out no matter what, the flame was hidden... and it grew under pressure and testing circumstances. His power was undeniable, emotionally and physically. He was a trained fighter in martial arts and war tactics, as well as a strong emotional will, he could never be bested, no matter what you put him through. And, if you were to mistakenly try, no good would ever come to you, his personality could be described an iron will wrapped in a velvet exterior.

Harry was extremely hard to please, and even more difficult to understand to a fault. His heart was a key to my destiny... and foolishly years ago I thought I had possessed the key... I did not. Though, maybe it'll all change this year, when we are wed and settled... all will be just and still. Like the rain, I'd said to myself happily as Harry and I sat on a park bench in his secret garden grove. Silently we sat hand and hand under an oak tree that partly shielded us from the rain, staring back into the core of the castle away from all the prying eyes. Hidden from sight, only seen by each other and the trees.

Like a magnolia flower, a flame appeared promptly from Harry's lighter as Harry cradled the flame from the light wind as he lit another cigarette, humming satisfyingly when it had been lit and closed the lighter's lid. He looked to me as I gawked at him with awe like I had never seen the light of his grace ever before.

"Want a hit, sugar?" He questioned darkly, smirking at my frame as I focused on the ground and my jewelry to avoid meeting his eyes haphazardly. He shook his head and placed his hand under my chin to raise it to his level of sight, staring at me starstruck. "A lady shouldn't duck her head at the sight of royalty Dorothea, especially a princess." Harry started "you should have a smoke, it'll calm your nerves about tomorrow yeah?" He whispered gently over the trickles of rain, I shrugged my shoulders and straightened my posture with a huff.

Slowly, Harry inhaled the toxins of the cigarette as he leaned in with the intent to kiss me. Undoubtedly sealing our fate with a smoky kiss as my mouth met his, arms wrapped around his neck as he blew the smoke into my mouth. Hesitantly watching it float into the atmosphere as his lips enveloped mine in another kiss. With this, I'd hoped it was a sign for brighter times... and for once, I'd smiled as I kissed him.

"Yeah," I nodded "tomorrow." I gulped slowly as I took the cigarette from his hand with breaking bridges across my body and failing triumphs surged into my soul. I breathed in the toxins as I coughed but somehow, felt comforted with the smell of the smoke. "Dorothea..." Harry's lips pursed as he spoke my name as if I was being caressed by his hands on my skin. "No matter what happens, I love you. Forever." Harry admitted bashfully as his hand laid on top of mine as I looked to his eyes with hope, flooding with joy.

"Harry, I...I- "I had started to say, but I was interrupted by the presence of a new jewel on my hand...my ring finger. "I want you to have it, consider it a pre-wedding gift, love." Harry said delicately, placing the large sapphire ring encased with details of silver and diamonds on my hand. And just then, I knew nothing I could ever say would ever be enough. It was the start of something new, something never foreseen before.... And never to be ever again.

"I love you more darling."

A/N: that was an interesting chapter, how did you guys like the chapter? I think it really shows the background of Harry's life for future chapters, so more of a background chapter, and the details of Dorothea and Harry, and more of their background together.

I'd love to hear your theories about what you thought about the story and what you think of it currently and where do you think it'll continue to go. Some question for you all... what do you think will happen when Dorothea meets Louis? And when the Ethelle charm school year officially starts? Who else will be thrown into the new romantics and drama in the final year...before the real 'adulthood' of royal rule begins!

See you next time my loves! Hope to see you in the next chapter<3

All the love, Louiscarrotsxoxo

_______________________

the secret charm master list link

#louis tomlinson #harry styles #larry stylinson #larry stylinson au #larry stylinson fanfiction #one direction #2012 larry stylinson #larry stylinson fic #royals #mystery au #enemies to lovers #arranged marriage #fake marriage #enemy countries #rivals to lovers #hatred #love #romance #fanfiction #fiction #lgbtq fiction #queer fiction #gay #Youtube

[meryasek]

Location: The Otherworld Notes: Mentions of his brothers, Titania, Mars, Dareth, and other surprises.

The past

Three crowns for the queen who fought the fates.

“My favourite part about being in love is not being in love, it is him loving me, and knowing that in his eyes there is not a single thing he would change about me.”

The words echoed in Meryasek's head, a voice so familiar that he thought he should know it immediately. There were two beings, bathed in light that made it so difficult to see their faces. Their hands were together, a secret that was clearly meant to remain that way.

There was a child, something that wasn't exactly fey – and a flower, the same that was once given to Titania during her imprisonment, though it wasn't like Meryasek remembered that, either.

Silence as the Otherworld swirled around them, a comment about how the archfiend could take the child, no worries about passing it off as something that it wasn't. There was a whispered no, the fey queen remembering a time where their child had not even made it past birth. There was a moment where Mery felt unsteady, like he was supposed to realize something – yet nothing came forward.

"I've lost one before, I won't do it again." The words echoed in Meryasek's mind, though as he tried to see who spoke those words, his vision blurred. The realm they were in was unfamiliar, but it wasn't as if he had any memories to pull from. What was his name? What was he doing here? Moving forward, Mery got closer to the elven woman, a young queen who looked between her child and her lover.

"No one may know. Not even him." She looked back down, a crushed bit of flower in her fingertips as she put it into the child's mouth. All at once, the wings seemed to curl back in to the small body, the freshness of spring surrounding the small family once more.

"This is not the end," Titania murmured, nature surrounding the two of them as the new eladrin opened his blue eyes. "One day, we will meet again. All of us."

Meryasek felt emotion catch in his throat, he wanted to speak out – say something to get their attention, but he could not. Instead, he felt himself fall.

The future

Two crowns for the children that may be.

"I was told you'd be here. Right on time, too."

Meryasek opened his eyes when he heard the voice, sitting up from where he was laying on a forest floor. The autumn leaves around him lifted slightly, like they were floating around in a small dance around the royal fey. His mind was muddled, like he was supposed to be reacting to something, but all he felt was a strange sense of peace.

"Hey! Over here. Stop ignoring me. That's rude."

Mery's gaze lifted now to an elf like woman, one blue eye and one gold, as she stared back at him from the tree. Her form was inconspicuous, really, dressed in plain clothing. The only way he knew she was an elf were her ears, sharp like his own that he hid away at all times. As if on cue, he lifted his hand, touching his own pointy ears – had they always been like that? Who was he? What was he doing here? "Where am I?"

"I ask the questions," she was mostly joking, jumping down now and offering a hand to the king before she pulled him to his feet. "Do you remember your name?"

It felt like a fog that Mery had to wade through, who he was coming to mind after a moment, "Meryasek." That was all he remembered, however, but the elf started moving away from him, and he stumbled to try and keep up. "Wait! You didn't answer me. Where am I? What is this place?"

"We call this place home. It's the Court of Stars. We have a lovely Queen." The stranger continued to speak, waving her hand as she explained the demiplane. It was mostly an untamed forest, stuck in a perpetual autumn, and some of the trees were as thick as houses. Fey creatures skittered by, causing Mery to jump slightly as his guide laughed. "You're like a little baby. I thought you'd have seen all these things before."

Familiarity edged at the recesses of his mind, but it was stuck – forbidden to be pulled forward as Meryasek found himself at ease. "I have. I think – well, I've seen some of them. I have...a cat-sith." That brought warmth to his chest, a happy feeling that he had remembered something.

"Yeah, yeah. I know all that. I was never able to have one because one of my fathers was always the target of their pranks." She continued forward, stopping as they reached the edge of the forest. Snow topped mountains were in the distance, separated by a river that flowed through the realm. Stars forever glittered above them, Mery's guide announcing that they were actually living beings, until finally his gaze found the crystalline palace.

"Is that where your queen lives?" Meryasek felt like maybe that's who he should've been speaking with, but for what reason? He couldn't figure it out.

His guide turned now, her mismatched eyes dancing with mirth, "Yes. Figure that out all by yourself? Come. I want to show you my favorite garden." In an instant, the two were wrapped in wings made of light, relocated now on the edge of a garden, Meryasek falling on his ass when the teleportation vertigo hit. The large crystalline spires of the Queen's palace loomed above them now, an aura of magic that was familiar pulsing within Meryasek's chest. Something felt off, like he was supposed to be able to provide his own magic, but nothing happened when he looked at his hands. It took him a moment, but he was able to see the garden floor through them, like he was an astral projection – a consciousness without a body.

"You're dying, that's why this all feels strange. Sorry, should've mentioned that. But don't panic. Get it? It's funny because you're alive but you're not so..." The stranger trailed off, realizing the joke clearly went over Mery's head. She waved her hand with a sigh, "Hopeless, really. Anyway..." She cleared her throat, helping Mery to his feet now. "Your face tells a story. You've never been good at hiding it, have you?" She looked slightly more sympathetic, a staff appearing in her hand. There seemed to be an ethereal glow about it, perhaps explaining how she could do these things, as wings appeared from her back. They were dark, raven-like almost, as she was never truly an elf to begin with.

Meryasek's confusion turned to despair. "I'm dying? You could've said that," he breathed, looking down at himself yet seeing nothing to truly be concerned about. He turned around, looking all over the garden, though it looked serene – almost peaceful. Dying here couldn't be so bad. But why was he dying? "I don't...I don't understand. I feel like I'm supposed to be doing something. I'm...I have to be somewhere. I can't die. Not yet. I have..." Family. He knew that's what it had to be, didn't it? He loved too earnestly to leave them all behind. Perhaps it was selfish of him, or perhaps they were ready to let him go.

"I know," the not-elf looked sympathetic, but only for a moment before it disappeared. She tilted her head now, magic floating between them. Familiarity, love, they shared it, but the woman knew their time was fading. "You're grieving. You'll always be grieving. These worlds are full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.” She seemed wiser beyond her years, a bit of grief in her own gaze as she knew goodbye was imminent.

A third presence filled the garden; a tall, lanky elf that held similarities to the woman that had dragged Mery around the Court of Stars. "I told you that he couldn't stay long, nys. Already the realm shivers."

The woman sighed, but she didn't address the warrior that had appeared, she instead turned to Meryasek, "That's my brother. I think he forgets whose court this is," she whispered, a smile on her face now as her entire being changed. Bathed in an celestial light, Meryasek found it hard to even look at the stranger anymore. She grinned a little, "It was nice to see you, Meryasek. But you have a lot to do."

Meryasek looked down as her hand came out, touching his chest as he started to slowly dissolve into light. Words were being spoken, but Meryasek wasn't even sure who he was or where he needed to go – "Wait – what am I supposed to be doing?"

The queen laughed, her raven wings lifting her into the air. Her mouth did not move, but words rang in Meryasek's mind before he dissolved completely, Tell our father we say hello.

The present

One crown for the daemon king of ashes.

The Otherworld was a vast place, full of beauty, galaxies, empty and thriving worlds – but there was also darkness. Fiendish existences that were on the outlying worlds. Worlds that were long thought to be dead, or perhaps inhabited by those who had come across the civilizations that had been destroyed by others or by the Spellplague. This one was empty – broken rocks and rivers that flowed into the sky, but lifeless. It was an echo of the one realm he'd seen, but a lifeless version – there were no stars, just a black sky, ground that was brightened by the fire beneath it, and an empty throne surrounded by broken stone pillars.

Meryasek felt more whole than he had when he'd first opened his eyes. He'd known his name, met two strangers who were somewhat like him, watched as the past unfolded before his eyes, and now he was met with nothing.

That's yours.

The voice was whispered to him, wrapping around him like a wraith and enticing him forward. Meryasek's steps felt heavy, like he was carrying something invisible. The armor he was wearing was blackened with ash and blood, making it harder and harder to breathe. Perhaps it was the smell of sulfur that made him gag, or the blood he tasted in his mouth. It seemed like it was just his body fighting him as he made his way to the throne. Voices were screaming in his ears, the sounds of death that he'd heard once before, others crying out for help. The moment his fingers gripped the gilded throne, the weight lifted, and silence filled the area once more.

They all left you to die.

"Who?" he whipped around to find a figure, though it was only formed of smoke. There were no features to it, just golden eyes staring back.

Your family.

The voice seemed to be an echo of multiple, all ones he felt like he knew. The spirit lifted its ghastly hand, pushing Mery back onto the throne. He couldn't move from it, watching as his body seemed to sink into the stone. "Don't–" he breathed, panic in his voice until memories began to swarm his mind.

A mother, a queen – one who loved him yet expected nothing of him. A brother he didn't know, yet cast his shadow over every bit of Mery's life. A second brother, one who worried more about Mery than what his duty asked of him. A lover, who died to save him yet was brought back once more to be by his side. Why were they all absent?

You always let them down.

Everything was thrown onto Mery in that moment, like a lock was undone as he knew what had happened. Ayi'ig, with her heart in her hand, then nothing. Why had no one been there for him? He'd sent them away to find help, and he'd stood by, waiting. That wasn't him. Mery had been given a crown, and he'd taken it because it was the least he could do for the fey that needed someone to lead them. It meant shouldering the blame of those who had no one else to blame but him, of doing what he could to be firm but kind. Of taking matters into his own hands when no one else would. Deals that would break with his death, if this was truly the end – a finality that meant he would be born as another of Ayi'ig's sons. A second child for Titania to mourn.

Clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty forever beyond his reach.

"This wasn't meant to happen. I have..." Children. Dareth. Titania said she would return; she'd told Mery for centuries growing up that the elves were the most beautiful of creations, that while his dreams were childish, there were memories of beautiful places that the fey had belonged. That he was worth it all and more. Meryasek wanted to see those places, it's what he'd dreamt about as he'd sit on the beach, Farenduil beside him, weaving together a crown made of shells and sand for the heir. "I can't be finished."

No one believed in a boy king. You have your throne. You will die on it.

It was rage that he felt within his core. Anger at those that had left him. Dareth promised he'd never leave him again, promised; Farenduil and Aegnor were gone – a bond that didn't include him. A shadow that loomed over Meryasek, the youngest and the one that did not have a care in the world. He felt pain, raw agony that bloomed from his chest. There was a hole in his armor now, where his heart should have been, a dead space that had blood seeping from it, dark tendrils that snaked like thin veins crawling forward from it.

"I won't go," he breathed out, fighting to pull himself from the throne. "They would never leave me." He was released instantly, the throne crumbling to ash as Mery fell forward. The ground beneath his palms felt warm, fire creeping from under his fingertips that felt like a hum of magic.

His ears remained the only elf-like feature of his, but his back began to seize. It felt like his skin was being pulled apart as wings began to tear themselves free. They were draconic like, a mix of various shades of black. On the top of his head, he felt the horns begin to push through, only slightly hidden by the curls that were now stained with blood. All at once, he felt like he was burning. Demonic in nature, his true self once more.

Will your rage define you?

The voice was only Titania's now, and it made Meryasek's eyes snap open. The fire seemed to recede into the ground, his eyes shining red for the first time. "No," he breathed, looking up as he saw two figures. One held the shape of Titania, a gilded crown on her head, no longer bound by the sickness that had plagued her for so long.

Then stand up.

Daemon, the voices began to whisper once more as Meryasek pushed himself to his feet, fey'ri. For the first time, nature did not call to him. Hellfire answered in its stead as Mery stood up, wings unfurling. There was magic of song that responded to him, doing whatever it was he wanted – an ounce of familiarity – and a hatred that burned within him. If the drow queen wished for his death, he wouldn't give it to her. Yet death he would become. War ran within his veins, unleashed finally as he would become the archfiend and archfey that he was meant to be.

Titania's voice echoed once more, a vision of an unknown figure behind her. Tall in stature, sandy hair that matched his, the sounds of war and death in the very echoes of his eyes – Mars.

Come. We have much to discuss.

[hologramcowboy]

https://www.tumblr.com/hologramcowboy/701183566946729984/i-used-to-love-jared-very-very-much-i-had-a-sam?source=share

I will start by saying I don't feel like this ask was in good faith, I think it was concern trolling. It's something a lot of Jared antis do to try and justify/temper their outright hatred - they say things like "I used to like Jared BUT..." or, and this is one I've seen a lot, "I would like Jared if he would stop doing things to make me hate him, I want to like him, but he gets in the way of that". Basically claiming that if only Jared wasn't Jared then they could like him, even claiming that they WANT to like him but they just can't and its all his fault. They feel like that gives them an excuse and an opening to then list all the reasons they "just can't like him" thereby trying to act like they aren't just the anti's they are. Maybe this anon really was genuine, but I'm sorry, I have seen this exact rhetoric way too consistently from Jared antis to be able to believe that.

"So what exactly is your assumption based on?" - I mean, they said it right in their ask, they said: "And who did that damage, who ruined my fandom experience? Not Jared, but the assholes who blew up the internet talking shit about him." So they're essentially even admitting that Jared did nothing wrong but the loud obnoxious people online ruined it. And who are those people who are loud and obnoxious against Jared? ANTI'S who are also very often AA's or hellers or both. I mean, if you're getting your Jared info from Jared antis then yea, its not going to be good. But I can also say that about 99% of the time what they say or claim is at best misconstrued (purposefully misconstrued to make him look bad) and at worst just straight up lies fabricated to make him look bad. So anon, if you want actual info maybe don't only listen to his antis, that is far from an unbiased view.

and just FYI, that symbol is on the back of every Texas license. It's all over Texas. Its been co-opted by some hate groups but it has also been co-opted for some great movements - like someone mentioned it was used during roe v wade rallies etc as a symbol of strength for the cause. So the fact that you, anon, and the antis are choosing to ONLY associate Jared's tattoo with the negative connotation is an active choice that you are making.

If anon truly wants to have an open mind and educate themselves (or anyone else who wants to for that matter) here are two places you can look:

The Great Texas “Come And Take It” Controversy

A brief thread about logic, facts and JP's tattoo

Powerful, powerful post! ♥️

#anti jared hate

[your-next-daydream]

Deadpool's reaction to s/o who wants to learn how to use guns as they have an obsessive interest in it as they want to help him out on his missions?

Im doing myself a favor and combining all my Deadpool requests. Also for the Date a Live request I unfortunately have not seen that anime yet, while I did look up the character you are referring to I just do not think it's practical to fight in a dress like that. That being said I have not seen the anime so I have no idea how she fights so if you'd like you can imagine you are wearing that I will not be specific about what the reader wears.

I will also be writing a gender neutral reader.

**********************

He looked at you with wide but excited eyes as he asked you to repeat your question. "Hold on repeat that did you just say you want to learn how to do what I do!" He looked like a kid on Christmas as he stared at you.

You shrugged rubbing the back of your neck. "I mean yeah, if you'd be able to teach me. It looks like a lot of fun and I'd like to join you."

He started jumping around the apartment you both shared happily before getting serious. "As happy as I am about you wanting to join me in my amazing job," he sighed before continuing, "I have to make sure you know how dangerous it is. It won't be a walk in the park considering how you don't have a regeneration ability or anything like that." He took your hands in his rubbing over your knuckles softly. "Trust me I don't doubt you I just don't want to lose you." He said sitting down in a chair in front of you.

You got up walking over to him and leaned down to place your forehead against his. "I understand the risks and I'm okay with them. I love you Wade and I think it'd be really fun to fight alongside you or just to help you out a bit. And I know with all of my heart that if I'm ever in danger you'll be there for me no matter what..."

Over the next couple of months Wade taught you various types of things. Ranging from different types of hand to hand combat, how to get out of restraints, weapons fighting, and he even had a friend of his teach you how to hack into all types of networks.

Turns out he was a pretty amazing teacher he was proud about how quickly you were able to catch on. Even though he had more of a let's say...hands on approach. He was still fairly serious during his teachings always rewarding you for your hard work afterwards.

He nodded watching you break into something on your laptop. "I know you probably wanted to do more with fighting but I figured this would be safer." He peeled off his mask leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek.

You nodded your head leaning into him for a second before continuing your work. "I'm seriously happy to help in any way Wade. Plus your teaching me fighting stuff on the side so this is just an added bonus." Tilting your head you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Though why exactly are you trying to have me get into the X-Men network specifically?"

He laughed lifing you out of your chair taking your seat and placing you on his lap. "Because if you can get into a program designed by a mind reader and a blue monkey, then you can go nearly anywhere!"

You sighed continuing your work. "But this is hard!" You leaned your head back on his shoulder ceasing your typing. "What do you say we take a break hm?" You winked at him grinding down on him.

He huffed lifing you up a little. "As much as I hate to deny you...and myself. I am going to have to pass on that." He stood up placing you back in your seat by yourself this time. "You continue that, I have a little job to go do I want you done by the time I get back!" He returned your wink blowing you a kiss as he walked out the door.

You shook your head resuming your typing. "He's infuriating but I love him...wait what's this folder named "Logan's moments."

.

.

.

.

About an hour later Wade finally returned. "I'm home! You'd better be done my darling little hacker!" He kicked his Crocs off at the door before pausing hearing laughter coming from where he left you in the living room.

You paused your laughing for a second. "Wade honey come look at this you are gonna get a kick out of this!" You stifled another laugh pulling the screen forward to where he could see.

Leaning down he tilted his head seeing a bunch of videos on screen. "Are these all of Wolfy?" He clicked the space bar hitting play on the most recent video you were watching.

<<start video log 23>>

It started off as Logan walking through the halls normally until he got to the end of a hallway. Jumping out from behind a corner a kid in a mask shot a confetti canon at him before running off. Logan jumped at the interaction ripping the door that he was going through off the hinges. "God damnit kid! Get back here!"

Hank rounded the corner seeing the altercation. "Logan do you mind me asking what's going on?" He took the door from him leaning it against the wall next to the doorway. "I swear if I have to keep ordering more parts to replace the ones you break around here."

He grumbled out an apology before continuing. "There was a fucking kid with a confetti canon...wait where's the confetti at?" He mumbled, "Look I swear a kid just came out of nowhere."

Raising an eyebrow Hank pointed to the ground. "If that did happen wouldn't there be something on the ground from the canon?"

Rolling his eyes Logan stomped off. "Leave me alone you overgrown blue monkey!"

<<end video log 23>>

Wade looked at you before looking back at the screen before busting out in laughter. "Wait this is seriously great! So you got in?"

You shrugged gesturing to the screen with your hand. "It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I know I probably should have been looking for secret files or something but this was way more interesting. Apparently the kids like to use their powers to mess with the teachers or even other students quite frequently."

He smiled at you ruffling your hair. "I'm proud of you. You've been doing excellent with your training, I'm glad to soon call you both my partner in both love and crime."

Silencing your mumbling about him messing up your hair you took his face in your hands. "I love you too Wade and I'm happy to be alongside you in this no matter what."

*

*

*

Okay I'd like if y'all could request something other than Deadpool since that's mostly all I have for Marvel writings. I wouldn't mind writing a part two for this with a fight scene though.

#deadpool x you #deadpool headcannons #deadpool imagine #deadpool x reader #deadpool #wade wilson x gender neutral reader #wade wilson imagines #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson imagine #wade wilson #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fluff #marvel #wade wilson fluff #deadpool fluff

[galaxy98]

A Message To All

(So I originally wanted to make a video but it was too big to upload so screw it.)

Hello everyone.

As you may have heard, the Supreme Court decided yesterday to overturn Roe vs Wade, which is supposed to uphold the right to a legal and safe abortion, thus giving the power to more states to ban it in the process.

This is one of many decisions that the SCOTUS had made this week like the backing for religious educational funds, which only blurs the line between Church and State and the loss of miranda rights, which made it more difficult for your right to silence to be respected against law enforcement, i.e. you won't have the ability to sue.

The reason why this is relevant is because there's been something on my mind lately.

For the past few years, especially during the Trump administration, I've been beating myself up over what would be the RIGHT choice to make when responding to a crisis.

And like yesterday, there's been a contention amongst people about how things should be done. Whether it's electoral, activism, mutual aid, funding, or organizing.

For me, I'm willing to put aside my pride and say that regardless of the choices you make going forward in the days, months, or years that follow, it's always important to never lose sight of the thing that truly matters:

Being there for each other.

If there's somebody out there who's likely to be vulnerable to these decisions, then give them the help they need.

If you feel like you can't trust the people within your circle, then seek out those you can trust the most.

If you don't think you're capable of doing anything beyond what you're comfortable with, then limit yourself to that space. Because even the smallest actions can have a larger impact than you think.

And--this is very important--if you feel like you're stretching yourself too thin or just feeling the complete exhaustion from having to fight 24/7, then please Please PLEASE rest yourself! Take a breather if you have to. You don't have to give it all up, but just understand that there will always be someone out there to take your place. Your mental health is still a priority.

I don't know how long this is going to last. It may very well take years. But I do know if we do this with our heads held high, we can inspire people to make a difference.

Is it idealistic? Yes, no doubt. Because history dictates that stuff like this is always messy. It's pointless to think that this can all be done peacefully. The earth doesn't give me hope, but I still give it back to those who need it.

I say all of this as someone who's both privileged and a "person of faith."

Even though I am those two things, that should never stop me from having to care. Nor should it be for those who aren't likely to be affected by this.

Plus, no amount of scotsmen fallacy is going to change the overall optics of this supreme court decision. This is white nationalism in action.

I'm at a point now where I stopped caring about bringing people to God. Haven't cared for years. If it means that I have to help those without expecting much in return, then so be it.

I would rather be in solidarity with other people than having to close myself off in the name of Jesus.

In the eyes of leaders, we may be a minority. But when you look around yourself, we are always stronger in numbers.

Because life, in all its flaws, is still beautiful and worth fighting for.

TL;DR: When fighting against a crisis, solidarity is key.

(If you feel like sharing this outside of Tumblr, then do so by all means. Screencap it if you have to. It's meant to be shared.)

#personal #politics #supreme court #roe versus wade #scotus #social justice #activism #human rights #solidarity #abortion #classism #elitism #psa #public service announcement #electoralism