#I don't know but you've rekindled it for me!! Now I have to write or draw something for these two!! 😤✨

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Like no one is watching

summary: a little stream rekindles feelings that had been lurking somewhere in between the lines. Or have they?

a/n *hits chest* guilty, guilty, guilty... yet I had to write this because I was about to go insane. Don't come for my head. Had never written for this man before. Enjoy. 🤍🫧

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It was supposed to be a chill night. Nothing big. Nothing special. All Vince wanted was to hang out with a couple of his old friends and mess around for a bit on stream. He needed to get his mind off the last couple of games that weren't his best. And it was just that—a good evening filled with goofy jokes—until Brian went quiet for a minute before saying, "Uuu, Y/N is coming over," and Vince's body nearly had an out-of-body experience. One that makes you fella as if, suddenly, you are standing a foot away from your body, and it almost feels like tunnel vision, but then it all snaps back into place. Yet Vince pulled the most neutral facial expression he could master before saying, "The one from the game?" making Brian simply hum in confirmation as he typed out a message to you.

The thing was, that it was stupid to even pretend that Vince didn't know you. Or that he only had seen you in one of his games as Brian's plus one. Well, besides being one of the NHL investor's daughter—a tag you shook off with a frown every time. You had made quite a name for yourself on your own. You had graduated from medical school with honors. And had opened a boutique in downtown Chicago... Not that Vince was keeping tabs or anything.

The truth was that he had never paid much attention to you at sports events or gatherings. Not that you were there often. But something about you standing there in the stands during his last game had messed with Vince's brain chemistry, and Vince just hadn't been the same ever since. He had, of course, asked Brian about your friendship and felt even more whiplashed when his friend casually shrugged while saying that you two had known each other for years. A friend of a friend. And since the energy was comparable, you had stayed in touch.

"Vince, keep the chat entertained while I let her in," Brian got up quickly, but not before stopping to address chat too, "Guys, your favorite person is here." Vince was once again left wondering how many times you two streamed together. And kicking himself for never really finding the time to watch his friends' lives. Laughter echoed from the hallway, and Vince had to mentally tell himself not to look back so he wouldn't come off too desperate. Paying extra attention to the sea of messages about how everyone was so excited to see you.

"Make some noise, make some noise," Brian shouted as he sprinted back, clapping his hands. He pulled the mic to his lips, "The one and only, Y/n Y/L/N." Your laughter filled the room, quickly followed by the clicking of your heels. "You are insane," you muttered, stepping through the door. A slight surprise washed over your face when your eyes fell on Vince, sitting in one of the chairs, but it was quickly masked by a warm smile. "Oh, hey, Vince," you muttered before leaning forward slightly to wave at the camera.

"Hey guys, long time no see. Please tell me that you've been making fun of Brian for me", you smirked, sticking your tongue out at him. "Changed my mind; I don't want you here," he huffed, playfully pulling at your hand. Vince blinked a couple of times. Finally realized that he had been staring at you the whole time, but then who could blame him? You had caught his eye back then with a messy bun, baggy jeans, and his team's jersey on. Now, with a black dress, heels, and full of glam. Lord was on his side, and he was sure glad that he had been sitting.

"Do I know Vince?" you read, your eyes darting to the awfully quiet hockey player to your right. "Yeah, we met. Was at his game, actually", you nodded slowly. "I should know all the rules by now, but..." Pulling a face, you shook your head. You avoided the games like a plague. Daddy's girl in the stadium. Those words alone made you want to run. You would rather fall face-first into dog shit. "We'll get you to more games, and you'll get it in no time," Vince's voice made your head snap back to him. The fucker dared to smirk too. Oh, but you knew his type. Heard all about it, and two could play this game. "Is that an offer?", you asked innocently. Vince only shrugged as he leaned back in his chair, "A fact." Your eyes stayed glued to each other. You hated how you could never get a read on him. How could a guy look both like the biggest mistake and like a gift from the Lord himself?

"They want to see your fit, Y/n," Brian's voice made you blink. Turning your attention back to the camera, you muttered, "Oh, wait," you backed up slightly. Trying to fit at least most of your body in a frame. "Do a twirl," Brian clapped his hands like a kid, making you shake your head. "Of fuck you, that's stupid," you muttered. "No cap, do a twirl," he motioned with his finger for you to do as he said. You rolled your eyes, but then you did feel cute today, so a little hype has never hurt anybody. "It's nothing," you said as you twirled a couple of times, "a black dress and these awful heels." You lifted one of your feet slightly, showing the sparkly, black heel.

"My turn!" Brian shouted, stepping up front as he went on a rant about what he was wearing. You stepped aside with a giggle. He was way too excited to do this, so alcohol had to be involved in this steam in some way. "Sponsorship event?", Vince said under his breath, clearly only trying to catch your attention. "You know it...", breathing out, you let out a sigh. People might call you ungrateful for this, but you hated attending anything that involved your father and his money. You were like a shiny toy for him. "Do you hate them?", he asked, catching a slight frown on your face. "Tell me about it," you said, laughing under your breath. "I ain't a fan as well," he added with a nod. "Oh, I know", you muttered, stepping aside from his chair.

"I will go for now; I need to get out of these before I start bleeding all over the floor," you chuckled, pointing to your feet once you found a minute of silence. You didn't want to just get up and walk out, so one way or another, you would have to find a little excuse to slip away. "Just get them off here," Brian muttered, not seeming to care as he scrolled through his playlist, looking for a new song to sing along to. "And flash the chat while doing so?", you rolled your eyes, "You wish for free content like that." You were about to wave your last goodbye when Vince cut in, "I'll get them." For a split second, you had hoped that you had misunderstood his intentions. So you just shook your head with a polite, "It's okay," but Vince scooted his chair closer. "No, no, I got it," he muttered, bending over.

A breath hitched in your throat as you felt his hands on your skin. "No, Vince," you muttered. But he just continued pulling at the strap; his warm fingers touching your cold ankle, sending shivers down your whole body. He fidgeted with it for a moment, but with an awkward angle, it sure wasn't an easy task. You were hoping that he was just going to give up, but his palm grasped your leg just slightly above your knee as he nudged it to a more comfortable angle for him. You nearly let out a shriek, but it turned into you biting your lip. Your hands pressed against his shoulder as you steadied yourself.

But God the feeling of relief once he finally pulled the scrappy shoes off. Near heavenly. Making your head fall back as you hummed in delight, "Remind me to boycott high heels from today," you muttered. Not to mention that you didn't miss the way Vince's hands lingered on your skin before he pulled back away from you. His gaze moves upwards to catch your eyes. And the urge to just take his face between your fingers and... Pull yourself together, Yn. You turned away quickly. Hoping to hide the slight blush on your cheeks. "It was nice seeing you guys", you waved your hand to the camera before quickly picking up your heels and padding out of the room.

Vince's heart was beating so hard against his chest. He was toying with a dangerous line. Girls like you were off-limits for a reason. The rules were pretty clear, too. It was bad enough that this was on the internet. One stupid move and his head would be drilled raw with people screaming at him. Nor did it help that your daddy dearest had spent some pretty coin on his team this year. Yet Vince was itching to get up and follow you. Little could be done with the cameras on, but outside this room, where no one could see you...

"Do you want another drink?" Vince said, causing Brian to shake his can, which, to Vince's luck, was indeed empty. "I'll get..." Brian had started, but Vince was already up and out of his chair. "I've got you, man," he said, tapping his friend's shoulder. He only had one shot at this. You can only get lucky so many times. But he didn't even need to go looking for you because the moment Vince rounded the corner to the kitchen, you were there. Leaning against the counter with your hands crossed over your chest.

"You're following me or something?", you muttered, tilting your head to the side. Vince tossed the empty cans out. "Or something," he muttered back. "Now you think you're funny?", you raised an eyebrow at him, pushing back from the corner to step closer to him. "What do you want, Dunn?", you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. A smirk tugged on his lips. That devilish one. One that turned him from an angel to a man of sins in seconds. "Back to the last name once again; you know I like it." His words were breathy and low as he reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing you to pull back.

"You look really good," Vince muttered, letting his eye fall down your body. Following your curves before your laughter filled the empty place. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, frowning slightly. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head, "You came here to tell me that I looked good?". This guy was something different. Yet your fingers reached up to his jaw, brushing over his jawbone. "You're adorable," you muttered. This time it was Vince who was pulling away, "I'm not adorable."

You bit your lip, trying to keep a serious face. Of course, he would get offended by a comment like that. "Yeah, I forgot that you're an angry puppy, my bad," you said with a firm nod of your head. Vince let out a huff, licking his lips as he stepped forward once more, towering over you. "Careful," he breathed out, leaning closer to your face. "Or what?", you urged him, not willing to back down. Your own hands moved to rest against his chest as you stepped on your toes. His warmth seeped into your palms. Vince's arms were pressed on either side of you. Caging you within his arms, "Or you might see a very different side of me." Your smirk matched his now as you bit your lip, tilting your head to the side. "Like..." you pushed on, wanting to see just how far he would let himself go.

"Not afraid that daddy will get mad?" The warm feeling in your stomach turned to ice. The smile faded from your lips as you reared back. "Oh, fuck you," you hissed, pulling at his arm to get away from him. You should have known better. "Y/n," Vince tried to grasp your arm, but you yanked it away quickly, "Forget it, Dunn." With a quick look around the kitchen, you grabbed your stuff and headed straight to the door, cursing yourself for willingly choosing to come here in the first place.

[paynomindtotheinsanity]

I just wanted to say that your fanfiction is one of the first in a long time that genuinely kept me hooked and frothing at the mouth for the next chapter and it's shenanigans.

The way you write Dib is beyond amazing and the dialogue is so fun, I could genuinely read it all day and never get bored. The amazing banter and stunning writing actually gave me a huge boost to continue writing my fanfics and rekindled my love for writing and reading (which never really left but this gave it a huge boost) and now I have a lot more motivation!!!!

Don't be afraid to take your time for the next chapter, I know that however long it takes, it'll be EPIC!!!!

(Also I really want to draw a certain scene from chapter 27 in a silly way and I want to know if it's okay 😳)

Thank you, this made my night <3

It's been so much fun working on this fic, and I'm beyond happy to hear your love for writing has been rekindled.

And yes, feel free to draw whatever you'd like! I can't wait to see what scene you've picked, 'cause lord knows there were a bunch of ridiculous moments in that chapter lol.

[mccall-muffin]

The Lady and the Major - Part 3/3 // John "Bucky" Egan x OC

Summary: Bucky is gone. For Liz, a world fell apart. But being the daughter of a duke, there still are responsibilities.

Warnings: Language, loss, slight depression, family duties, family fight. FLUUUUFF

A/N: And now this little story comes to an end. It was fun :) Hope you enjoyed it!

Here is my Masterlist

Tags: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @mads-weasley, @brassknucklespeirs, @softguarnere, @shesgonna

London, Early 1944

The vibrant correspondence between Liz and Bucky, once a source of joy and anticipation for Liz, has fallen into a distressing silence since October 1943. Each letter she sent without receiving a reply added another layer to her growing concern and heartache. Liz's letters, once filled with playful banter and teasing affection, have grown more earnest, culminating in a confession of her deepening feelings for Bucky—a letter that, like its predecessors, remains unanswered.

The once lively spark in Liz's eyes has dimmed, noted by all who know her but most acutely by Mrs. Baxter, who has served the Cavendish family for years and has come to hold a particular fondness for Liz. It's a quiet afternoon when Mrs. Baxter finds Liz in the garden, her laughter at something in a book not quite reaching her eyes, a shadow of her usual vibrancy.

"Miss Elizabeth," Mrs. Baxter begins, her voice laced with concern, "you've been ever so down lately. It's not like you to let the world weigh on your shoulders. Is it that young American soldier? You've not mentioned him in quite some time."

Liz, caught off guard, closes her book, a sigh escaping her lips. "Yes, it's Bucky. I've not heard from him since October. I fear the worst, Mrs. Baxter. But part of me wonders... what if he's simply moved on? Or found someone else? Or worse..." Her voice is a mix of sadness and fear, the possibility of Bucky being gone forever a thought she can barely entertain.

Mrs. Baxter, wise in the ways of the heart and the harsh realities of war, shakes her head. "Miss Elizabeth, the way that boy wrote to you, I can't imagine him simply forgetting about you or finding another. It doesn't sit right. Why don't you write to his superior? Just to ask, to know for certain."

The suggestion stirs a turmoil within Liz. The thought of reaching out to Colonel Harding, of whom Bucky told her, is daunting, not only for fear of seeming desperate but also for the terrifying possibility that her worst fears might be confirmed—that Bucky is indeed lost to her, either through death or by a change of heart.

"But what if I find out he's..." Liz can't finish the sentence, the fear of Bucky's potential death choking her words.

"Miss Elizabeth," Mrs. Baxter says, taking Liz's hand in her own, "not knowing is a torment all its own. It's clear you care for him deeply and living in this limbo isn't fair to you. Writing to that Colonel might bring you the clarity you need to move forward, one way or another."

Liz contemplates Mrs. Baxter's words, the wisdom in them undeniable yet terrifying to act upon. The possibility of learning that Bucky is indeed gone is a reality she's not sure she's ready to face. Yet, the perpetual state of not knowing, of holding onto a thread of hope mixed with fear, is its own kind of purgatory.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Liz nods, a decision made. "You're right, Mrs. Baxter. I'll write to his Colonel. It's better to know than to spend my days wondering 'what if.'"

Mrs. Baxter squeezes Liz's hand reassuringly, offering a smile that's both encouraging and sympathetic. "Whatever the response, Miss Elizabeth, you won't face it alone. We're all here for you, always."

With a newfound resolve, albeit one shadowed by apprehension, Liz sets out to pen a letter to Colonel Harding, seeking the truth about Bucky's fate. It's a step fraught with the risk of heartbreak but also the only path toward peace, whether it leads to closure or rekindles a flicker of hope.

Dear Colonel Harding,

I hope this letter finds you well amidst the challenging circumstances that I know the brave men under your command face daily. I am writing to you with a heavy heart and a hopeful spirit, seeking information about Major John Egan, who I believe is (or was) under your esteemed leadership.

It has been several months since I last heard from Major Egan, and his silence is uncharacteristic and deeply concerning. We had been in regular correspondence until October of last year, after which all communication ceased abruptly. Understanding the nature of his duty and the risks involved, I am painfully aware of the potential reasons for his silence.

However, the not knowing has become a burden too heavy to bear, and so I find myself reaching out to you, Colonel, in hopes that you might be able to provide any information regarding Major Egan's status. It is my deepest hope that he is safe and well, but if that is not the case, I am prepared to face whatever truth there might be.

Major Egan spoke very highly of you and his fellow soldiers, and it is clear he holds great respect for the sacrifices and efforts of the 100th Bombardment Group. It is in this spirit of respect and concern that I reach out to you now.

Any information you can provide would be immensely appreciated, not only by me but by all who care for Major Egan.

I thank you in advance for your time and assistance in this matter and for your service to our countries. Please extend my gratitude and best wishes to the courageous men under your command.

Yours sincerely, Lady Elizabeth Cavendish of Wellington

Dear Lady Elizabeth Cavendish,

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you regarding Major John Egan. First, let me express my deepest gratitude for your kind words, the respect you've shown towards our unit, and the sacrifices made by our servicemen. It is the support and thoughtfulness of individuals like yourself that bolster our spirits in these trying times.

Regarding Major Egan, I regret to inform you that his plane was shot down during a mission over Münster, Germany, on October 10th. The circumstances were such that we have been unable to ascertain his whereabouts following the incident, and as of this moment, Major Egan is classified as Missing in Action (MIA).

This news is undoubtedly difficult to receive, and it is shared with the greatest sympathy and respect for your connection to Major Egan. Please know that our efforts to learn more about his status continue unabated, and any new information will be communicated to you as soon as possible.

Major Egan is remembered among his peers for his bravery, leadership, and the indelible mark he left on all who had the privilege of knowing him. In these challenging times, we hold onto hope and the belief in the resilience of the human spirit.

Should there be any way we can be of further assistance to you during this period, please do not hesitate to reach out.

With deepest sympathies, Colonel Neil B. Harding 100th Bombardment Group United States Army Air Forces

July 1945, Hyde Park, London

The park, with its sprawling greens and tranquil ambiance, serves as a refuge for her thoughts, a place where memories of Bucky feel both painfully close and achingly distant. As she walks beside Mrs. Baxter, her mind is only half-attuned to the conversation about her impending nuptials to Lord Henry Ashcroft, a man of good standing and disposition but whom Liz regards with a sense of resigned acceptance rather than love.

Lord Henry Ashcroft, chosen by her father, was a man of considerable charm and intellect, a diplomat who had spent much of the war negotiating on behalf of Britain. While Liz could appreciate his qualities and the comfort of their companionship, her heart remained untouched, locked away with the memories of a love lost too soon.

As Mrs. Baxter prattles on, Liz's attention is stolen away by a voice, a familiar timbre that cuts through the noise of the park and straight to her soul. "Planning your grand escape, Liz? Or just hiding out from all those wedding planners your father's set on you?"

The voice, unmistakably Bucky's, sends a shockwave through her. She turns, disbelieving, to see him leaning casually against a tree, that all-too-familiar smirk playing on his lips, his arms crossed as if he's been waiting for her all this time. For a moment, Liz is frozen, her heart caught between joy and disbelief.

"Bucky?" she breathes out, her voice a whisper lost in the wind. The world around her seems to come to a standstill, the chatter of the park fading into nothingness as she takes in the sight of him. He's thinner, the signs of his ordeal evident in his eyes, but it's unmistakably him.

Bucky pushes off from the tree, taking a few steps toward her with a grin. "In the flesh," he confirms, his eyes lighting up with the warmth she remembered so well. "I must say, I've had quite the adventure. But I always knew I had to find my way back to you, Liz."

Tears well in Liz's eyes as the reality of the moment washes over her. The pain of the past two years, the resignation to a life without him, suddenly lifts, replaced by a surge of hope and love so strong it leaves her breathless.

"But how? I thought you were—" Liz starts, unable to finish, the question hanging in the air, laden with the weight of untold stories of survival and loss.

"A POW," Bucky finishes for her, his voice softening. "It was... rough. But I never stopped thinking about you, Liz. Not for a single day. It's what kept me going, knowing I had to come back to see you again."

The revelation leaves Liz reeling, the pieces of her carefully constructed resolve crumbling under the weight of her emotions. Here, before her, stands the man she believed she had lost forever, a living testament to the resilience of hope and love.

Mrs. Baxter, sensing the magnitude of the moment, discreetly withdraws with the dogs, leaving Liz and Bucky alone in their bubble of reclaimed time.

Liz steps forward, the distance between them closing with each tentative step until she's close enough to touch, to confirm that he's real and not a figment of her longing imagination. Without a word, she reaches out, her hand trembling as it meets his cheek, the contact sparking a connection that time and circumstance had failed to sever.

"Bucky, I..." Liz starts, the flood of emotions rendering her speechless.

"Shh," Bucky soothes, wrapping her in his arms, his presence a balm to the scars left by war and separation. "We have time, Liz. All the time, we thought we'd lost. We'll figure this out together."

In the embrace of the man she never stopped loving, Liz allows herself to believe in the possibility of a future she had mourned as lost. Hyde Park, once a sanctuary for her solitary reflections, now bears witness to the resurgence of a love that survived against all odds, promising a new chapter for Liz and Bucky, one where 'what if' transforms into 'what is.'

In the opulent salon of Wellington House, the tension is palpable. The Duke of Wellington, a man of formidable presence and traditional values, paces the room, his anger reaching a fever pitch. The assembled group—Liz, her fiancé Henry Ashcroft, her brother Edward, her mother, and Bucky—watches in a mix of apprehension and disbelief.

"My daughter, marrying an American? A soldier with no title, no lands, no... no nothing!" the Duke bellows, his voice echoing off the walls, laden with centuries of history and tradition. "This is not a matter of mere preference, Elizabeth! It's about duty, about the legacy of the Cavendish name. An arrangement has been made with the Ashcrofts, a union that will benefit both our families."

Liz stands her ground, her resolve steeled by the love she has for Bucky, a love that has endured the trials of war and separation. "Father, I respect our traditions, but I cannot—I will not—marry a man I do not love. Henry is a fine gentleman, but my heart belongs to Bucky. I must marry out of love, not obligation."

Her plea falls on deaf ears. The Duke, red-faced and seething, turns his ire towards Bucky. "And you!" he accuses, pointing a finger at the soldier who has unwittingly become the center of the controversy. "Do you think you can just waltz in here and claim my daughter's hand? What do you have to offer her? You are a commoner, an outsider!"

Bucky, despite the hostility, remains calm, his respect for Liz and her family evident even in the face of the Duke's wrath. "Your Grace, with all due respect, I understand your concerns. I may not have titles or lands to my name, but I love your daughter and swear to devote my life to making her happy. Isn't her happiness worth considering?"

The Duke's response is a derisive snort. "Happiness? You speak of happiness in a world where lineage and alliances dictate our very existence. You are not suitable for Elizabeth. This... this farce ends now!"

Liz's mother and brother exchange troubled glances, the family torn asunder by the clash of duty and desire. Henry, for his part, remains silent, his own feelings a mixture of resignation and relief, having sensed Liz's lack of affection towards him.

The room falls silent as the Duke delivers his ultimatum. "Elizabeth, you will marry Henry Ashcroft as planned, or you will face the consequences. You will not defy the wishes of your family or the expectations of our society. This is not just about you; it's about the Cavendish legacy."

The weight of her father's words hangs heavy in the air, a gulf widening between tradition and the yearning of the heart. Liz, caught in the throes of an impossible choice, looks to Bucky, her eyes filled with a mixture of love, defiance, and the dawning realization of the sacrifices they must both be willing to make for a chance at a life together.

As she can't take it anymore, Liz flees the salon and her father and is quickly followed by her mother.

In the quiet aftermath of Liz's hurried departure, the salon becomes a stage for silent contemplation and uneasy alliances. As Henry speaks privately with the Duke, Edward shares a moment of understanding with Bucky, and the pieces of a complex puzzle begin to shift. The choices made in the hours and days to come will redefine the futures of all involved, setting them on paths none could have anticipated.

Edward, acknowledging Bucky's resolve with a nod, breaks the silence. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Facing down the old man is no small feat," he comments, a hint of respect threading through his words.

Bucky, his determination unwavering, responds with a sincerity that speaks volumes of his experience and the depth of his feelings for Liz. "I've seen too much, lost too much, to not fight for what truly matters. Liz... she's changed everything for me. This time in captivity, it made me realize life's too short for regrets. I need to spend mine with her, no matter what."

Edward sighs, a look of understanding crossing his features. "I get it, I really do. But you must understand our world... it's governed by rules, by expectations that have bound families like ours for centuries. It's a tangled web."

Meanwhile, in Liz's room, the atmosphere is thick with desperation and the weight of impending decisions. Her mother, the Duchess, attempts to provide comfort, but Liz's turmoil runs too deep for simple reassurances. "I can't do it, Mother. I can't marry Henry knowing that Bucky is alive and the one I love. It would be a lie, a life built on pretense. I'm not like you; I can't hide my feelings or live a lie."

The Duchess, faced with her daughter's anguish, feels a pang of sorrow for the constraints their world imposes. She knows the Duke's stubbornness all too well, his unwavering commitment to duty and legacy. Yet, in her heart, she understands Liz's longing for genuine happiness. With a heavy heart, she reveals the only solution she sees.

"There is one way, Elizabeth. You must elope with Mr. Egan. It's the only path to true happiness if you're sure he's the one. Your father... he may never forgive you, but this is your life, and you must choose how to live it. But you have to know, if you decide on this, there is no coming back."

The suggestion of elopement, radical and fraught with the risk of scandal and estrangement, hangs in the air like a lifeline amidst stormy seas. It's a testament to the lengths to which love compels individuals to go, challenging the very foundations upon which their lives are built.

For Liz, the idea is both terrifying and liberating. The prospect of defying her family, of stepping outside the protective yet confining boundaries of her world, is daunting. Yet, the chance to build a life with Bucky, to embrace the love they share, is a beacon of hope in the darkness of her predicament.

As the vast expanse of the Atlantic stretches out before them, the cold ocean breeze tangles through Elizabeth's hair, a stark contrast to the warmth of Bucky's arms around her. His kiss on her cheek is a gentle reminder of the new reality they've stepped into together—a world away from the grandeur of Wellington House, a future uncertain but theirs to shape.

Bucky's voice, filled with affection, breaks the silence. "You sure you're okay with this, Lizzie? Leaving everything you've known... for me?"

Turning to face him, Liz's eyes meet his, shining with a resolve that belies any lingering doubts. "Bucky, I've never been more sure of anything in my life. With you, I have everything I need. You are my home now."

Bucky's smile in response is one of relief and love, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. "Liz, you've given up so much. I promise you, I'll spend every day making sure you never regret this decision."

Their conversation, intimate against the backdrop of the vast ocean, is a testament to the strength of their bond, a love that has transcended societal norms and the expectations of their respective worlds.

Flashback: In Liz's room, the Duchess's hands are steady as she helps pack the bags, her face a mask of resolve. "Remember, you're stronger than you think, Elizabeth. You're making a brave choice, for love. That's something I've always admired in you." As Bucky is led into Liz's room through the servants' corridors, his eyes quickly find Liz, his expression a mixture of surprise and admiration. "Lizzie, are you sure? This means leaving everything behind—your family, your title..." Liz steps close, her hands finding his. "I've never been more certain of anything, Bucky. As long as I'm with you, I'm where I belong." Her mother's voice, soft yet urgent, interrupts their moment. "You must hurry, my dears. And be careful." Handing Liz some money, she adds, "This should help you get started." She puts her arm on Bucky's. "Take care of my daughter." Bucky nods. "I will. Always." The goodbye is swift, a final embrace shared with her mother before Liz and Bucky slip out into the night, embarking on their journey towards a new life.

As Liz reaffirms her commitment, Bucky's eyes soften, the weight of her sacrifice not lost on him. "Lizzie, you're my world. I'll make sure you have all the happiness you deserve."

Their kiss, passionate and full of promise, seals their vow to each other. As they stand there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the future unfurls before them—not as a path laid out by lineage or duty, but as a journey they'll navigate together, bound by love and the shared courage to defy expectations for the chance at true happiness.

"We're in this together, every step of the way. I love you, now and forever," Bucky whispers, his words carrying the weight of an oath, a pledge of a lifetime together, against all odds.

And Liz, gazing into the horizon, her heart full, knows that no matter what challenges they may face, their love will be their guiding light. "I love you too, Bucky. Here's to our new beginning."

[animasola86]

The Darkness Within (Smut Edition) - Dark

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!mc x Tom Riddle

Summary: When Genevieve dies at the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, Sebastian is driven mad with grief and sees only one way out of it: he has to bring her back, no matter what. He goes down the darkest path imaginable and in the end, it works, but not as he expected - as he is suddenly transported to 1953. As is the love of his life. Until they finally meet again, seven long years later, both of them go down the opposite ends of the moral meter: one becomes an Auror and the other is charmed and influenced by none other than Tom Riddle, who is on the verge of gathering more and more people for his cause. Will they be able to rekindle their love, now that they are mortal enemies?

Genre: Angst/Smut/Dark!Romance

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Rough sex. Choking. Angst! NSFW!

Read more on AO3

Warning: There is very dark smut under the cut! Read at your own risk. The darkness is real! MDNI, I mean it! Save your innocence!

Excerpt from Chapter 8 (3k words):

Inside his head was turmoil as he kept arguing with himself. All his training came back to him, all the studies he had had to read about Dark wizards and witches and Dark Magic and how it was all wrong. It was wrong, he knew that, but then again... He groaned and shook his head. It wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair, he specifically knew that all too well. Why did he have to meet the good guy, when she had fallen into the arms of the bad guy? Why was fate such a cruel mistress? A tiny voice inside his mind came through then, and he froze at the notion.

Why don't you just give up your life? You wanted to be with her, didn't you? You have her now, she is right here. Is your job really that important? Are you choosing being the good guy over being with the girl you love? Why are you even arguing with yourself? What the hell is wrong with you?

He swallowed hard at that. The voice had a point. He did love her and he had done everything to this point to find her, to be with her. Why did it matter that she had chosen the dark side now?

Because she didn't love him back. It wasn't the same.

Then you'll make her love you, all over again! You've done it before, remember?

As he considered the last thought, he suddenly felt two tiny hands snake around his torso and then she had pressed her body against his back. He inhaled sharply and slightly turned his head.

“What's wrong?” she asked and without seeing her, with all his memories of her whirling about in his head, he was back at Hogwarts, probably slouched in the Undercroft, studying Slytherin's spellbook, screwing up his face in order to understand what the man had meant by his cryptic writings. And she would join him, sit beside him and her hand would find his arm and she would ask the same thing. And he would look at her and smile and forget about his worries.

“Nothing,” he said curtly, placing his big hand on her small ones.

“You're a liar,” she whispered and he could feel her warm mouth on his shoulder blade. “I know you are conflicted.”

“Why would I be conflicted?” he played along.

“You wonder what to do,” she said and kept kissing his back softly. “You know you shouldn't be with me, because your Auror senses tell you not to. You should arrest me, that would be the right thing to do, hm? But you don't want to, you can't. Because deep inside...” She pressed her hands firmer against his chest. “...you know that it doesn't matter. You want to be with me, don't you? You've waited so long...”

Her voice was soft, but he still heard the dark edge within. She was a very talented sweet talker and he suddenly understood her role in this organization he was watching. She was the recruiter. Of course she was. Playing with men and convincing them to follow her, join her, seemed to be the easiest thing for her. She was sultry and manipulative and even without the use of the Imperius curse he somehow knew that she was very successful also. Because she knew what men wanted to hear. What he wanted to hear.

“Yes, I do want to be with you,” he said quietly and worked his jaw in growing frustration. “But it's not as easy as you think.”

“But why is that? You can be with me, I certainly want you to be with me! All you have to do is let out your darkness, show me your darkness...” She slipped around him and her hands found his shoulders as she leaned up against him, her eyes fixed on him. “Why do you fight this so much? I'm right here!”

He looked at her hard and long and everything inside him was fighting. All the pros and cons, good and bad, light and dark, everything turned against him, and he was a tiny speck somewhere in the middle. He lowered his eyes, gritting his teeth.

“Just let go,” she whispered. “I know you want to. If you have to choose a side, shouldn't it be obvious which one? The one I'm on? Isn't that what you want?”

“I want you,” he said darkly and looked at her. “I do, but...” He sighed deeply and grabbed her hands and pushed away again, turning around to pace the room. “You don't understand. My darkness... I... I don't want to face that ever again. It broke me, it destroyed my life, it took everything I had, everything I held dear! It might have made you stronger, but I... I'm not made to survive it for too long. I won't. I can't...”

“But if you would embrace it,” she said gently and watched him closely. “If I taught you how to control it...”

“No!” he shouted and shook his head. “I can't go down there again! I'll lose you again...”

“You'll lose me if you don't go down there...” she said and her voice changed into a harsher tone.

He stopped pacing and stared at her. “So you only want me for my darkness? For the potential I have? Is that it?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “No. I would also really want you for this body of yours and the things you do with it...” she added with a smirk.

He scoffed and started pacing again. “Unbelievable...”

“I was joking!” she sighed. “Sebastian, look at me!”

When he didn't, she walked over and grabbed his arms, tilting her head to make him look at her. He still refused. His vision became blurry as he got angrier and angrier and he didn't even know why any more.

“Stop fighting it! Just choose me,” she whispered and her hands found his face.

“And if I do, will you be with me and only me? Or will you keep prostituting yourself for the higher purpose of your Master's cause?” His eyes stared into hers and he could see how shocked and angry she was by his words.

“He is not my Master...” she replied through clenched teeth and dropped her hands quickly. “And I'm not...”

He suddenly followed an impulse and grabbed her, forcefully ripping the black blouse off of her body, revealing the Dark Mark burned into her left forearm. She gasped when he did so and tried to squirm out of his tight grip.

“But he marked you as his, didn't he?” he said darkly and closed his fingers tighter around her wrist. “And you swore to do anything he asks, didn't you? You are his and you'll always be his! And you expect me to just tag along? Play dumb when you're planning to overthrow the world with him?”

Without him actually noticing, it had gotten really dark inside his head. His heart was pounding against his ribs and his breaths came faster than he would have liked. He was working himself up into a very dark place and there was nothing he could do against it.

“You... you want to be with me, remember?” she said in a tiny voice, almost a little timid. “You love me! You said so! Shouldn't you be able to deal with all this, if you'd love me?”

He stared at the skull and snake on her arm, it looked as if it was taunting him, writhing beneath her skin, the skull grinning up at him in glee. He dug his nails into her wrist and clenched his jaw. He heard her wince as she tried to pull her arm away from him.

“But you don't love me...” he muttered darkly. “You've forgotten me. Our love. Our life... what I did for you, what you did for me. He made you forget. Don't you see that he's using you? He probably knows about your power, about your abilities. Why else would he keep you so close?”

She scoffed angrily. “Why else? Is that all that I am? My abilities?”

He looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Am I more to you than my darkness and body?”

Her jaw was working and she looked away with an angry exhale.

He let go of her wrist and grabbed her shoulders instead, shaking her slightly. “So what if I joined you, what if I gave you my darkness, would you stop your recruiting?” He stared at her. “No, you wouldn't...”

His breaths had become shallow and his entire body seemed on edge. He could barely think straight any more as he was consumed by anger and frustration and jealousy.

When he spoke, his voice was a deep growl. “Unless... I make you...”

And with that he pushed her backwards towards the bed, span her around by her shoulders forcefully and simply threw her onto the bed. She landed face down on the mattress with a shrill shriek and before she could clamber off it again, he was behind her, grabbing her waist to pull her rear back to him. She was either too shocked or too afraid to fight against him and so he pulled up her hips and pressed his front against her quivering core. A whimper escaped her and it only fuelled the rage within.

“I'll show you my darkness,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “And once I'm done with you, you'll never want to see it again!”

One hand tightly gripping her hip, kneading the soft flesh, he rubbed his cock against her warm centre, breathing heavily already, before he took a step back and gave himself a few quick strokes as he stared down at her exposed backside. His heart was pounding inside his chest and all he could see was her, how her tiny whimpers reached his ears, how she squirmed lightly against his touches. She wants this, a tiny voice rang through his clouded mind. Give her what she wants!

He clenched his jaw and slowly moved his tip through her wet folds, drinking in her noises, before he pressed hard against her. He felt her shuddering, a muffled moan coming from her as she buried her face in the sheets. He hesitated for a moment, his tip teasing her entrance, then his rage grew stronger again and he pushed in hard and deep, not stopping until he was completely engulfed by her tight warmth. Her legs twitched against him and she mewled quietly. He didn't wait for her to adjust to his intrusion and started pumping his length into her in a fast rhythm, every thrust as deep as possible, causing her to moan and whimper and the headboard to slam against the wall.

His hands gripped her hips tightly, his fingers bruising the soft skin, as he drove himself into her again and again, faster and faster, harder and harder. His breaths became shallow and the noises of their bodies slamming against each other filled his ears. He barely noticed how she surrendered to his movements, how her body shivered and quaked uncontrollably, as she tried to grip the sheets and arched her chest into the mattress, her own noises breathless and helpless. He kept one hand on her waist, holding her in place, while he brought his free hand down on her butt cheek with a loud smack. She squeaked loudly. And he slapped her again and she screamed once more, and he only stopped when his hand imprint was visible on her soft flesh.

“You're mine,” he growled through clenched teeth. “Only mine...”

Seeing his mark on her skin fuelled the desire within, the darkness trying to claim her. He increased his pace, his hips slamming against her fast and feverishly. He wasn't going as deep any more, this was about speed now. He felt her walls stretching from every single in and out motion, making it easier and easier for him to drive himself into her. Her constant whimpering was like background noise to him and only when her knees buckled and her legs slipped off the bed as she couldn't hold herself up any more, did he focus on the woman in front of him, the woman, not just the hole he was pounding into.

He grabbed her hips tighter and pulled her up against him, before he wrapped his arms around her stomach to lift her up slightly as he kept ramming into her like a rabid dog, arching his body to angle himself better against her. He could feel the muscles in her abdomen tensing up and the shivers running through her body as her moans filled the room. He kept his pace, closing his eyes as he started to feel his own muscles cramping up slightly. He worked his thighs against her, a deep growl coming out of his throat. Breathing loudly through his nose, he continued his rhythm, returning to driving himself as deep as possible, then retrieving almost all the way before he would push into her again with a force that made her shriek louder every time.

Hearing her shrieks and how she didn't resist him in the slightest brought back the dark thoughts of imagining her with other men. She seemed so... submissive, so willing to let him do whatever to her, and he just knew he wasn't the first man to use that to his advantage. As he thought about how many men she had pleased like this before, another growl escaped him and he leaned one hand down and wrapped it tightly around the front of her neck, pulling her upwards against him. His fingers closed around her throat and he heard her whimper in surprise, yet she wouldn't do anything against it, her arms hanging loosely by her sides as he held her up against his body, one arm around her stomach while he kept slamming his hips upwards into her.

“Do you like this?” he hissed into her ear as he brought his mouth to the side of her face. “Do you like being dominated?”

She whimpered in response, her lips parted, her eyes squeezed shut, a mixture of pain and pleasure on her beautiful face. His hand clamped around her throat tighter and he turned her head slightly more to him, seeing her eyelids flutter. He pressed his lips against her cheek and tasted salt. Only then did he notice the tears streaming down her face. One part of him would have eased his rapid movements against her, would have loosened his grip on her, would have stopped because she was obviously in pain, but that part was buried deep within under a pile of sizzling rage and unquenchable lust.

And he realized the more pain she was in, the better he felt. She deserves this, that tiny voice croaked inside of him. And he agreed. How dare she not remember him after all he has done for her? How dare she seek solace and pleasure in other men? How dare she give her body to men who don't love her like he does? He groaned against her face as he swiped his tongue over her cheeks, lapping at her tears, using them as fuel to his desire. She whimpered loudly, breathlessly, and he noticed her body convulsing against him. He tightened his grip on her throat even more, really squeezing her until there were no more sounds coming from her lips, only soundless gasps – and then she raised her hands and grabbed at his hand, her fingernails clawing at his skin.

Her fighting back only made him slam against her harder and he felt her tightening around his girth, her muscles contracting as she squeezed his cock almost as hard as he squeezed her throat. A deep moan escaped him and he felt his own legs shaking slightly as her orgasm rolled over her and crashed into him as well. He pressed her shivering body against his, holding her tightly, feeling the spasms of her stomach against his arm. He was breathing heavily into her ear as he kept his rhythm while her body slowly went limp in his firm embrace. The fingers that had tried to loosen his grip on her throat slipped down and ceased to move any more.

He let go eventually and as her body slumped onto the bed motionlessly, he didn't even register that she had lost consciousness. He pushed her down flat on the mattress, her face turned to the side, a more or less solemn look on her pretty face if one would ignore the tear soaked cheeks. The darkness within him blurred his vision as his own release announced itself. Frantically grabbing her hips, he pulled her back up against him and pumped into her breathlessly until he felt his stomach clenching, and with a loud moan and a stilling of his hips against her as he pushed deep into her with one last forceful thrust, he emptied himself into her, groaning deeply with every spasm as his warm seed filled her up more and more.

He leaned against her, his head full of static, holding her hips, savouring the feeling of being buried deep within her, claiming her more with every passing heartbeat and every convulsing squirt until he was completely spent. His breaths were heavy and when he loosened his grip on her hips, she slipped down onto the bed with a last twitch of her legs as he pulled out of her, watching his seed spilling past her wet folds and dripping slowly down her skin.

He took a stumbling step backwards and looked at her body, sprawled on the bed, motionless, her red hair tousled, her skin covered in sweat. His head cleared only slowly and when he realized she wasn't moving, his heart skipped a beat. He stared at his hand imprint on her ass and how he had defiled her, marked and soiled, and a cold shiver ran down his spine.

What have I done?

Read more:

The rest of Chapter 8 (angst)

Excerpt of Chapter 6 (fluff) Excerpt of Chapter 7 (smut)

All the chapters on AO3

Pictures credit: @sebswebs (Sebastian) @the-slytherin-paramour (Sebastian) @joanasallinger (Sebastian) @zimmerfarn (redhead) @esolean (Tom) very bad paint edit by me >_>

Notes:

I apologize for the angst (and the explicitness) in this one, I have no idea where that came from - though, to be fair, the more I read through this as I edited it, the less heavy it feels to me. Am I becoming numb to my own smut? Nooo...

Story idea came from an interesting little chat I had with @seabass-swallows Auror Sebastian chat bot. Thank you for tickling my (disturbingly) creative juices!

With one eye closed you could also see this as the (possible) sequel to my very slow-burn, fluffy, tame af HL re-write story Diary of a Snake Lover (this fic does reference some parts of it).

He is watching - and one day he'll join in. I promise. Stay tuned.

(I was searching "rough" gifs and this mf shows up, I can't!!! XD)

[linmeiwei]

OMG! I recently found your stories and

I'm.

In.

Love.

You've rekindled a fire I haven't felt about P&P variations in a very long time! Yes, there are many good writers, but not very many excellent ones! Your Darcy and Elizabeth, their interactions in all stages are—at least to me—so true to their canon selves, I can easily imagine several parallel universes in which Austen herself might have come up with something like I Dreamt or Betrothed!

Another (very, very) important aspect of their dynamic I absolutely adore in your portrayal of ODC is their sensuality and ardour. It's unlike any other I've read so far, and I'm so grateful for the little scenes of intimacy you've given us— in spite of the position of much of the fandom on sex no less!

(Alas, I am greedy fanfic heaux who was raised in fandoms much hornier than this one, so i cant help but wish for Darcy-centric outtakes for Stranded. Does this exist??? Can it????)

Since I don't yet sound desperate enough, let me ask this: Please tell me you're currently writing a new story? I do realise it takes work and effort and time. Nevertheless, i'm fully committed to being the needy, greedy reader and have therefore no shame in demanding ever more!!

(in reality, of course, I'm beyond thankful for what we have, and can't wait to read all your stories from back to front again and again and again once I've rampaged all the way through, which, at my current speed, should take just another couple of hours, lol 💗💗💗)

Oh wow, thank you so much! It genuinely means so much to me that someone reads what I write, let alone likes it. It's so nice to hear, genuinely, thank you.

Partially, I'm a little flustered reading comments like this, because I write so painfully slowly, and honestly have to go through fifty complete re-writes (as in start from scratch-go again) before I think a story fit to be seen by the eyes of another human being, and even then I'm a bundle of anxiety until the first review comes in. But the fandom has been so forgiving of my many mistakes and so kind in their feedback, and so that really helps me keep going. So, again, thank you!

It does mean that I'm slow with producing more work, though! I do in fact have a completed draft of another novel, that I am now letting rest before I start re-working it again. Which is my long-winded way of saying that, yes, there's something new coming out at some point, but I really don't know when it will be ready (I'm really rather ashamed of how long it's taking me). I have a little toddler and a full time job, which doesn't help, I'm afraid!

Oh and the sex scenes! Yay, I love a good sex scene! I also love horny P&P variations! And I'm so rubbish at writing them, lol! My genuine position on this is that the sex scene comes if it feels right that it should be there (like, in Betrothed it felt right to be more descriptive when it happens, because something fundamental changes for Elizabeth at that point in the narrative, and she breaks the distance between them, purposefully, er, letting him in, so to speak). Stranded was my first novel, so I didn't really know how to do this stuff, so it's coy and full of banter, rather than anything remotely explicit. I hadn't thought about writing any extra scenes for that one, but maybe I will (and if I do, I'll pop it on AO3 for everyone to laugh at :D)!

[velvet-vox]

Yet another status update.

If you have been reading my posts for a very long time, you may have noticed that, in the last couple of months, I have slowed down the previous output that I had this summer.

The reason as to why that is, as I've stated in the past, is because I'm very busy at the moment, between work, helping out my friends, multiple writing projects etc... I don't want to get into the specifics because I value my privacy a lot.

Also, another very big thing for me is that I spent a huge chunk of the last few months writing My top 30 favourite female antagonists of all time; I've been working on that project in conjunction with many others for a long while, and I've been writing all three parts more or less simultaneously, hence why the first part took this long to release.

My original plan was to release all three parts at the same time, for the most, overall "spread" of the posts.

However, since I'm still relatively new to this site, and I was unsure if there was someone who really liked to read my stuff and wanted something new, I decided to release the first part as a standalone hook, since the other two parts were much more juicy in comparison.

That said... the amount of time that I spent writing it, and the fact that, from my point of view, not many people saw it or cared for it made me think that maybe I should focus on something else that is easier to make.

So, here's a survey on some of the ideas that I want to do, and should be faster to execute, unlike the top 30 thing.

The Fethry Duck analysis has zero work done on it at the point of writing this, but I already know what I want to say and how I want to talk about the subject. I want to do it just to have at least one DuckTales analysis done by me on this blog, as I still haven't done one at this point in time.

However more than an actual analysis on the character, it'll be an analysis on how the writers decided to adapt the character to the reboot, and I'll use my favourite Fethry comic as a comparison.

With the recent release of Epic Mickey Rebrushed, which came out of nowhere from my point of view, my love and appreciation for this series has been rekindled, just like my hyper fixation, to the point where I've already done 7 play throughs, platinated the game 2 times, and done 3 speedruns ever since it's release.

But it got me thinking:

Many people assume/want Purple Lamp to also be doing a remake of the second game in the franchise, one that, according to the official site, would need a lot more tweaking in order for it to stand on par with the first game.

However, the question of whether or not the story would need to be changed in order for them to do so is still up in the air.

But what was the story of EM2 exactly all about? What were the original writers trying to say?

That's what I want to talk about and analyse.

As a way to further celebrate Rebrushed, and as a momentary conclusion to my Epic Mickey character arc, I plan to do public pools ranking of all the levels in Epic Mickey, Rebrushed/Original game variants included. I'll give more information about this one when I get around to doing it.

I still want to do analyses on the antagonists of Wakfu, Dark Vlad, Julith, Toross... possibly a sequel trilogy to my analyses of Oropo... but not right now.

Same thing for my Kung Fu Panda stuff: there are things that I want to do more right now.

If you've been following me for a very long time, know that my "famous" (it's not, but I've been throwing it around a lot, even outside of this site) Critique of Doll is still coming..... Next year.

That... "thing"... will be the summary of a journey.

As for more Murder Drones ideas, I have a few, but I don't want to do them now, unless someone asks for them:

Making the case for why Alice is the best humanoid villain in Murder Drones; a fun little idea that I had a while ago. To be honest, I don't sincerely think Alice is the best humanoid villain of Murder Drones, but I think that Alice fans could enjoy this post.

If you've been following me since the very beginning, you know that I wanted to do a comparison post between Nox (Wakfu) and Doll (MD) ever since I watched Murder Drones for the first time, and now that the show is over, I think this is the best time for me to do so.

While thinking about the Nox and Doll comparison, I realised something else: there's an argument to be made that Qilby and Cyn, characters from the same series as Nox and Doll, share enough similarities with each other that I could probably make a post comparing them too, and I think it could be very interesting.

In the meantime, while I wait for the survey to be over, if everything goes according to plan, this weekend I'll release an analysis on a small, current obsession of mine.

You may have already guessed it, considering all the foreshadowing that I did for the past couple of days, but here it is:

The character of Turbo, from Wreck-It Ralph (2012).

Edit: forget what I said. The Wreck-It Ralph analysis is coming whenever it is ready. Work and Arcane season 2 took away all of my free time. From now on, I'll just release stuff when it's ready and when I want to.

[babbling-idiot]

Are your requests still open? If so, could you maybe write something about Herbert West having a very introverted bookworm/writer s/o?

To be honest he loves that you read a lot and write

He does the same, except he also steals bodies and kills those reanimated people in his spare time

Which doesn't bother you much

Often times actually since you have been together for some time, he has on occasion asked you if you could help record some things

Especially if he's trying to make a new concoction, sometimes he gets in the mix to deep and can't remember what ingredients which are so having you to help him is a huge relief

Though you are a bit quiet, your actions speak much louder than you could

And he loves you for everything you do for him

And usually, after you've helped him, you will ask him to assist you as well

In your writings, depending on what you're writing, you will have him read it and get his opinion on it

Most of the time is very positive, and he'll tell you it's amazing, but very rarely, he will tell you that you need to rephrase or redo something

Most of the time he can't help but feel jealous at your writing skills

Besides the fact that Dan is Herberts friend, you can't help but stick to yourself and to Herbert

You can't help it, honestly

Oftentimes, Dan will ask Herbert to go out for dinner

And sometimes Herbert will agree but often times he might actually change his answer because you won't go

But of course, Dan's personality is very contagious, and you have once or twice gone out to eat with them

There have been many times where Herbert could not find or locate you

This actually causes him to panic, I don't think we've ever seen him really panic, but he panics when he can't find you

You don't leave the house to go out with a friend or anything, and oftentimes, he can't find you in your room or on the couch reading and writing

So of course, he asks Dan and what's the first thing he says, Library

So, Herbert hauls ass to the library, and sure enough, there you are, nose deep in a book, and when he walks over, all he hears is:

"Oh Herbert! Look at this." The book you're holding is just something random you picked up, and sure enough, it's a book about animals. Random facts about different animals.

"Did you know that turkeys can reproduce without having sex? That's neat, huh?" He sighs out and rubs his forehead. "I did not know that. Are you going to bring that book home?" Oh no, I've already read the whole book. I'm just flipping through random stuff now. "He nods his head and proceeds to tell you that it is officially time to go home

Of course, you don't want to, but you do anyways because you know that Herbert was just worried about you the whole time

(I hope you like this. I'm sorry it took me longer than usual. I am having trouble with motivation, but I am trying to go strong, so don't lose faith in me, yall. Writing is my favorite thing to do, so hopefully, I can rekindle the fire.)

[maxbegone]

something personal below the cut...please do not reblog.

I am...likely doing something I didn't expect to do for as long as I could possibly hold off. I had a really long conversation with my uncle yesterday (which is whole other thing in and of itself), and something he always does is bring up my mother, with whom I've not had a contact with for nearly a decade. he said that while he doesn't like her or the torment she caused my dad and I, that his relationship with his own mother, my grandma, was similar. all of that boiled down to him not wanting me to regret not having contact with her for the rest of my life. and I understand, I really do. I'm a completely different person now than I was then, and she's remained a stranger to me — something that is my choice. she's been blocked on everything for years, and every so often I'll clear out my blocked voicemails and accidentally hear what she's sent. It's triggering, sure, but they more so make me roll my eyes and scoff.

here's the thing: I don't like her. I don't trust her. I don't feel safe with her. but I have the leg up here; I call the shots. I think it's best that I finally get some closure on all of this, because while I don't think I can truly forgive her, I want to be able to move on from this and let go of the anger that has sat with me for nearly ten years of my life, and maybe more if I'm honest — our relationship was declining for well over a year prior to her kicking me out of the house, which...if you've been here long enough, you know about that. and if not, I can't find it in myself to explain it tonight.

my plan is to write out a list of questions and email her with a meeting time over zoom or similar (I will not be unblocking her number and she lives out of state), with no one but the two of us. no other family, not even in the same house as her. if she really wants to have a conversation with her daughter after everything, I'm pretty sure she'll abide by these requests. I know that sounds pretentious, but she has no control over me anymore. we'll see where it goes from there. I don't see myself wanting to rekindle our relationship when this conversation is over, and I'll keep her at a very far distance away from me, but it really is time for me to show her what she's missed out on, who I've become, and that she doesn't fit in this life.

it'll be my choice. I won't let her manipulate me anymore, and I certainly will not let her say a single bad thing about my dad. she hurt us, she mocked us. she doesn't deserve a relationship with me, but I deserve some peace.

if this is ridiculous, I'll know when it's all over. for now...I need to do some thinking...

and as sick as this might sound, I'd trade her for my dad.

[mommypieck]

Hello! I've been here for a while and seeing how much you've been through so far makes me sad that you've experienced so much sad shit. I recently came back to your blog since I wasn't on Tumblr for a while(I've been following you for sometime now) and decided to snoop around for a bit to see what I missed, congratulations on 10k followers btw🥺. Also I'm sorry in advance this will probably be long knowing how I can go on for a while.

Some things you've been through I can relate to, my family isn't a step family but it's definitely incredibly dysfunctional and can be shitty. It's almost 4am here so excuse any mistakes I make in writing this, I literally told myself if I didn't send this to you now I'm not gonna be able to later so I'm fighting sleep. Also your friendships I'm sorry you're stuck with people who don't deserve you in just about every aspect ☹️.

You seem like such a genuine sweetheart. I had an experience with a friendship I wanted to end before and I remember being the same as you were, wanting to stay in that friendship but couldn't leave because I was so attached to that person. I thought the end of the world was gonna happen when I left because I was so codependent on them. But I realized that the feelings I had when it came to them shouldn't be taken lightly, the bad feelings, every single one should never be taken lightly. I'm not gonna sit here and make any promises towards you that certain things are gonna be perfect but I can at least say that it's gonna be okay. Not just when but comes to friendships but living apart from your family. I know you've probably heard this shit a million times but you're not gonna be stuck in the same situation forever. If you have decided to leave that friendship I hope you felt the relief I did when I left mine, if you haven't decided to yet, you most likely will feel relieved even if there's always gonna be a longing for the good moments you might have had before, don't let the good distract you from all the bad.

When we all are teenagers or were teenagers, we are constantly told how grown up we have to act that we forget how young we really are. You are 19, you are so incredibly young and you have so much time to become whoever or whatever you want to become. I remember Jane Fonda saying that if you can't do something in your 20s,30s,40s or even 50s, you can still do it in your 60s. I DON'T mean that you won't accomplish all you desire now, because I'm sure you'll definitely get there, but you have a lot of time to get there, to think, to breathe, to exist, to have fun, to have new experiences.

Please remember that you haven't even met all the people who are gonna love you yet. You have so many people who will enter your life later on, as long as you allow them to enter and stay, that can and will love you so much.

If your family is shitty or weird, then you can have your own family, family is not defined to me by blood but by love. So I'm not telling you become pregnant or anything, but your friends can be your family, people you meet along the way can always become family, maybe even family members you'll eventually meet again will rekindle your family relationship.

I'm a bit forgetful (ADHD and trauma not a good combo)so I'm trying to remember what else I was gonna add omg.

You're a sweet girl, you're incredibly talented, if your desire is to become a writer then you're perfect for it already. Honestly I live by, "if Colleen Hoover and Anna Todd can write and publish those damn books, you damn well can too." And I know your books won't suck like theirs do. Full offense to Colleen Hoover fans btw🙃 I expect if you're reading stuff by mommypieck then your taste isn't bad.

Anyway this has been so long and I don't want to overwhelm you, so I'll end it for now, stay safe, and I hope you have a beautiful forever because just wishing you one day isn't enough💖����💖.

i am at loss of words.i seriously don't know what to say. thanku so much for this message. it means a world to me really. i am so happy that i have people here who stick with me and actually care what i have to say.i kinda feel bad that you spend so much time, typing all of this. but you seriously gave me hope for better life. thanku so so so so so much. i love u and i appreciate you. thank you again.

[bisluthq]

I just remembered that when Speak Now TV came out people were speculating that Electric Touch was about Jake ??? Gyllenhaal ??? How and why people came to that conclusion I have no idea.

Like, is it possible? I guess, maybe, yeah. Is it likely? I really don't think so.

To be fair, this take was generally perpetuated by people who seem to have an "analytical" fixation on Gyllenswift for the Wrong reasons, so clearly their ability to reach is out of this world😭 on top of that, a lot of them seem to truther that they were going out earlier than is publicly accepted (Sep-Oct 2010, gets stretched to like July-Aug which 1) I find difficult to believe and 2) isn't backed up by anything but "vibes").

Also I don't know how much "post-breakup" Gyllenswift truthering you've engaged in off the top of my head, but I feel pretty solid in the notion that she and Jake called things off for GOOD around like March 2011.

Then she was really sad about it, he kept trying to call her, she kept writing songs rather than responding. Then come April 2012 and he's STILL insisting that they'll get back together (which might indicate a continued communication, but other shit she's said and the timeline for when certain songs were written makes me think that at the VERY least they took a LONG break throughout 2011/did not get back together post March).

One of their Big pieces of evidence was that she wrote The Last Time in May 2012. And shit like that (+ that interview that got released in early 2012 where she off-handedly mentioned jake to the staff) does open me up to the idea of a potential post-Begin Again's conception rekindling, especially since learning that she actually started writing Begin Again in March 2011 (that on top of writing Better Man and finishing All Too Well... Jesus), so the "8 months" might be in reference to the time it took to finish the song, rather than the time since the breakup.

This got WAY off track, but in conclusion, people are Weird about Gyllenswift, and I am lowkey people😭

I think solid thoughts but imo Gyllenswift was a mess.

[ashesandbone]

Summary: Elena and Rebekah rekindle their friendship while caring for Klaus's daughter, Hope, at the Salvatore Boarding School. As they reminisce about old adventures, a deeper connection emerges.

In the quiet halls of the Salvatore Boarding School, Hope Mikaelson had grown up without the daily presence of her father, Klaus, then thanks to the every lurking threat to the hollow, and now after the demise of both klaus and elijha. Mystic Falls became her sanctuary, and the school, a place where she honed her supernatural abilities under the watchful eyes of the school's staff.

Now, In the heart of Mystic Falls, Hope Mikaelson's laughter echoed through the halls of the Salvatore Boarding School as she studied in the enchanting library. Rebekah, her devoted aunt, had come for a visit, and the school buzzed with an extra layer of warmth.

Hope, engrossed in her books, looked up to find Rebekah standing nearby. A bright smile adorned Rebekah's face as she approached, enveloping Hope in a warm embrace. "How's my favorite niece?" Rebekah teased, ruffling Hope's hair.

As Hope matured into a strong and resilient young woman, Rebekah, her aunt, maintained a distant yet loving connection. The occasional visits became more frequent, especially as Hope's magical abilities became more potent.

Hope chuckled, "you do realize that I'm your only niece right? Anyways I'm good, Aunt Bekah. It's just not the same without Dad around."

Rebekah's eyes softened with understanding. "He would be proud of the remarkable woman you've become."

Their conversation continued, weaving between fond memories and the shared bond of family. Elena Gilbert, now a guardian at the school, joined the scene, standing on the sidelines admiring the bond the aunt's niece shared and dare I say admiring the older woman too. As she continued staring, Rebekah's eyes wandered towards hers and she felt like she got caught staring.

The older woman beckons the girl over as they have recovered their old friendship in the few times Rebekah could visit hope after her brother died. Elena hesitantly joined the duo and added her fair share of memories about Hope's father and Elijah. Most people still expected her to hold a grudge against the original family (that is her ex husband) but for her it was years ago.

In the sidelines while the two conversed and were totally oblivious of their own feelings, the smart little tribrid told herself to remember to talk to her aunt because obviously what potential epic love story ever starts without a small push and push hope will give.

As Elena reluctantly excused herself, expressing the need to attend to a patient, Hope couldn't help but shoot her aunt Rebekah a mischievous look. "Both of you are so pathetic," she remarked with a playful smirk, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Rebekah raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Pathetic? And what, pray tell, is your expert opinion on the matter, darling niece?"

Hope chuckled, her tone teasing. "Oh, Aunt Bekah, don't act all clueless. It's written all over your faces – the longing looks, the lingering touches. You two are practically oozing romance." She rolled her eyes dramatically, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Rebekah, caught off guard, couldn't help but laugh at her niece's candid observation. "Well, maybe there's a bit of truth in your words. Mystic Falls does have a way of stirring up unexpected feelings."

Hope shook her head in mock disapproval. "I swear, you two are worse than any teenage lovebirds. It's like a supernatural soap opera around here."

Rebekah grinned, placing a playful arm around Hope's shoulders. "Well, darling, if you've learned anything from this 'pathetic' display, it's that love has a funny way of finding us when we least expect it."

Hope couldn't suppress a genuine smile. "Yeah, yeah, Aunt Bekah. Just promise me you won't start writing love letters or composing cheesy poetry."

Rebekah feigned offense. "I am wounded, my dear. I'll have you know that my romantic gestures are nothing short of sophisticated."

Even as a thousand-year-old vampire, Rebekah couldn't ignore certain insecurities that lingered within her – the uncertainty of whether Elena truly liked her and whether she would accept every aspect of her immortal existence. However, in a moment of reflection, Rebekah recalled someone once saying, "the first rule of truly living - do the thing you're most afraid of." With newfound determination, she resolved to confront her fears and reveal her true self to Elena, embracing the vulnerability that came with it.

As the day unfolded, Rebekah decided to extend her trip to mystic falls and she and Elena discovered a shared history that extended beyond Hope's supernatural journey. Laughter resonated through the school corridors as they reminisced about past adventures, and an unspoken connection began to deepen between the two women.

One evening, beneath the stars on the school's terrace, Rebekah and Elena found themselves lost in conversation. The air was filled with a gentle breeze, carrying with it the sweet scent of blossoming flowers. "Elena love, do you ever think about the old days?" Rebekah asked, her eyes reflecting a mixture of nostalgia and something more. Both the elder woman and Elena never realized when they fell in the routine of calling each other by nicknames.

Elena smiled, her gaze meeting Rebekah's. "All the time. The friendships we forged, the challenges we faced – they shaped who we are."

Their words lingered in the air, and Rebekah couldn't ignore the warmth blossoming within her. "There's something so special about Mystic Falls that makes everything feel more alive." she admitted.

Elena's expression softened, mirroring the sentiment. "Maybe it's the magic, or maybe it's just the people." her hands softly grazed that of Rebekah's.

In that moment, the realization of their deepening connection sparked between them. Rebekah reached out, gently cupping Elena's cheek, and their eyes locked. The world around them seemed to fade as they leaned in, sharing a tender and unexpected kiss beneath the moonlit sky.

The kiss spoke volumes – a culmination of years of friendship evolving into something beautiful. As they pulled away, smiles played on their lips, and Elena whispered, "Maybe Mystic Falls has a way of bringing out the magic in everything."

Rebekah nodded, her heart full. "It certainly does."

And in the quiet embrace of Mystic Falls, surrounded by the whispers of history and the promise of a magical future, Rebekah and Elena walked hand in hand, their connection stronger than ever, and love blossoming like the flowers in the town they called home.

One of the one shot fic I wrote for the february challenge. Hope all of you like it

[clatoera]

Ok it's not a question but I just have to say I too recently rekindled my love of the hunger games, particularly clato, after about a decade hiatus (i blame the new movie coming out this year) and just wanted to say I am SO happy i stumbled upon ARWBFB. It's seriously one of the most well-written fanfics i've ever come across. I don't know how I've never read a clato fic about them going into separate games before now, but I'm glad I didn't because none of them would compare to this one anyway. I love how you portray cato and clove - they're selfish but still likeable in all the best ways, and i feel like you've perfectly captured how suzanne collins would have written them to be. The dynamic between clove and enobaria is just perfect. And the taylor swift song lyrics as chapter titles are *chefs kiss* the cherry on top.

I am so excited for the quarter quell chapter and all the chapters after that, too. I feel inspired to write again for the first time in like 7 or 8 years, so thank you for that.

PS - I'm assuming you're in med school based on the comments about surgeries and board exams so I needed to express my awe that you were able to find the time to write such an amazing story while studying for step (i just finished my first year and i'm actually terrified of that exam)

PPS - Literally reactivated tumblr just to share this lol

This message was literally the highlight of my entire day. like truly this was like a little light for me after a very rough like..seven-ten days of studying.

The things you said are some of the absolutely BIGGEST compliments I have ever received. What an absolute honor, my heart is like fluttering wowie. Thank you so much. For literally all of this. I.. worry a lot about their characterization and making sure they're still giving careers you know. There is NO bigger compliment than "captured them how Suzanne Collins would have written them" like holy hell bestie I'm literally shook. When I say I was LITERALLY in tears reading this ( I take step 2 tomorrow literally) because i'm so overstimulated and this was SO kind i'm not lying. I love my careers. I feel like I'm getting to really run with them and develop them and enjoy them! That goes for Clato but also glimmer and enobaria and co. I'm just really having the time of my life with this.

I'm hoping to write the quell this weekend! I finish my test tomorrow and will need a day or two to recover but then I can really dig into the quell I think, and i want to make sure I write it how it deserves. This fic is literally my baby. This is my child at this point. I am the mother of this fic, I will protect it to my grave.

I am so SO glad to hear you are writing again! I hope it can be a source of joy and escape in what I can safely assume is a very stressful time.

And yes I am in med school! I just started my 4th year, and am taking step 2 tomorrow literally. I did NOT have time like this in 2nd year or until the end of 3rd year! Step One is terrifying but it is so so managable and you can DM me any time if you want to talk about it or anything else! Enjoy this summer!!!

<3 also welcome back i am so honored you took the time to leave me this-- so thank you so so SO much!

[zablife]

@brummiereader Brummie, I'm so delighted to see you return to us!! Your writing is even more brilliant than ever ✨

That opening with Johnny Dogs had me squealing with delight bc you've captured him so perfectly! I can envision him looking about Arrow House in awe and sampling whisky at 8 in the morning simply bc he can!! 🤭 Sadly there isn't enough content for him and anytime he's mentioned in a fic, I hang on every word. This was no exception as you left me wanting so much more of his entertaining antics.

However, I must admit I was eager to know what news he brought of the governess 👀 I knew Tommy would have someone out searching for information about her! And Johnny certainly delivered tho we didn't learn of her indiscretions with other families until much later in the chapter. (I knew that little hussy had tried this routine before 😡)

She's even more wicked than I originally thought! The scene with Frances shook me to my core as she whispers into William's ear about his mummy falling ill. I shudder to think what she's capable of doing to Mrs. Shelby if she broke the housekeeper's wrist without a second thought 😱 And I'm dying to know what Billy knows!!! Does it have something to do with the rat poison she stole from the shop where Esme works?? Is this how she intends to make William's mum sick?? You're killing me, dear Brummie!!!

It speaks to your skill as a writer that you managed to divert my attention with the rekindled romance between Mr. and Mrs. Shelby. I simply adored the juxtaposition of the before and after party scenes, reinforcing the care they so badly needed, esp Y/n. The gentle reassurance Tommy shows his wife was everything! He absolutely worships her as they reunite and I could not love that more 😍

Did you have to steal our happiness so soon with the presence of the governess tho? 😫 That shit was unnerving 😵‍💫 I want Tommy to wake up and catch her staring at his lovely wife. He would put an end to her so fast! Is this his plan? I honestly don't know what to expect!

Based on the length of this comment I'm sure you can tell I'm highly invested in this fic (possibly to an embarrassing degree 🤭), but I don't care who knows it! You're so talented, I'm going to shout it from the rooftops. Anyone who hasn't read this series needs to get on board NOW!! I have a feeling the ending is going to be the most spectacular CRASH!! 💥 I can't wait 😜

MASTERLIST PART FOUR

Unchained Melody (Part Five)

Summary: On the path to mending your fragile marriage, you and Tommy can't bear to stay more than a few moments away from each other. In more ways than one. But as joy and laughter returns to the halls of Arrow House during an evening of ball gowns and tuxedos. The Governess, left scorned and bitter, makes the final arrangements for her deadly plan of revenge.

Warnings: Language, smut (Minors DNI), fluff, postpartum depression, violence, one racial slur, angst

Word count: 5340

Authors note: Thank you for everyone's patience as I took some time away from Tumblr. It's been a while since I have written anything, so I'm a little rusty. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"Tea, Mr...Dogs?" Frances asked, unsure of how to address the burly built man striding though the doors of Arrow House as he removed his green tweed cap from his head. His informal manner never ceasing to stop the head housekeeper from entering a dizzying muddle as she clutched to keep things as one would expect in the grand house she managed.

" Touch of whisky Frances. That'll be grand" he replied, stamping his mud-crusted boots onto the freshly polished floors that had recently been cleaned for the event set to take place that evening as he looked down at his pocket watch. Eight in the morning. Never too early to fire up the old lungs with one of Tommy's finest whiskys. He thought to himself as he looped his thumbs under his suspenders, taking in the grand foyer and all its fineries. He could get accustomed to this.

"Johnny boy!" Tommy greeted loudly to his old friend as he walked down the grand staircase. The smile on his face a pleasant change from the solemn frown that had become customary as of late.

"Nice digs you got 'ere Tom. Any spare rooms going, ey?" He replied with a hearty laugh, shaking your husband's hand with a firm pat on his arm.

" Not enough for your brood, and the dozen you've got scattered across the county, Johnny" Tommy replied with a chuckle, his sudden turn in mood a stark difference from the one he had replaced for the past two years. His humor further set on improving with what he hoped was next to come out of his trusted friend's mouth.

" In good spirits ey, Tommy?" Johnny replied as you made your way down the staircase with William hitched on your waist, babbling a nursery rhyme as he enthusiastically bounced up and down in your arms.

" Something like that..." Tommy's voice trailed off as he turned to face you, adoration and pride beaming lovingly through his eyes at the sight of you both together. Reunited, finally.

As in love as the day he laid eyes on you, Tommy watched as you slowly descended down each step. Recounting the night, you stayed curled up beside him watching the fire he had lit in the living room of your grand home settle into charred blackness as you both fell asleep soundly within each other's arms after having come to blows over what desperately needed to be said.

"...will be made better with what you've got to tell me" he quietly replied, not wanting you to overhear, nor have your settled worries be bogged down once again.

" A cousin up in Scotland" Johnny spoke in a hushed voice as he sent William a wave and a wink your way.

" That's it?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow, hoping for more information on the woman that had caused nothing but turbulence since her employment, and a shame your husband wanted to be rid of.

" There's been talk, Tom. In the women's wash house", Johnny added, placing a cigarette tightly between his lips, puffing the fumes through the corner of his mouth.

" Gossip Johnny. I need something better than what tattling old women have to say" Tommy replied, taking the pack of cigarettes and lighting his own as he watched the morning rays of sun glisten on your glossy smile, completely unaware of the goings-on and the vicious nature of the woman hired to care for your child.

" Kin to every man in Birmingham. Nothing gets past them, Tom. I'd stake my life on those old women's whispers" he spoke quietly, before turning his back to you and revealing what the nattering of the town had to say about the Governess in a hushed voice as you opened the dining room door and a triumphant smile grew on your husband's lips.

" Now that is interesting, Johnny. Very interesting"

With your mind still plagued with worry, you couldn't help but let the guilt of your lapse in parenting weigh down your thoughts as you sat opposite young William at the large dining table and back in your rightful seat as you awaited your husband. As your hands hovered nervously over your lips, you watched intently as your son took each mouthful of toast, your eyes darting back and forth to the fading red blotches that covered his skin.

" William?" You gasped, your eyes widening as your hand flew across the table to him when a small cough left his buttery mouth.

" He's fine darling" Tommy said as he entered the room, just as you was ready to bolt up and scoop him into your arms to the nearest doctor. " Forgets to chew. Don't you son?" Tommy smiled as his heavy hand brushed along your back, coming to settle on your shoulder.

" Yes..." You replied with a shaky voice looking back at your son, unconvinced of his well-being as your face twisted in worry.

" Hey, look at me Y/N" Tommy said, resting his thumb on your chin, gently turning your head to face him. "He's ok, darling. I promise" He said with raised brows, softly brushing the warmth of your cheek with his calloused hand. Wanting you to be rid of any lingering doubt.

" He's ok" you repeated your husband's comforting words as you settled your hand over his, bringing it down to the table where Tommy quickly intertwined his fingers into yours and you stayed there undisturbed, enjoying the closeness the morning of just the three of you alone brought. That was until the headache that came in the form of a scorned, spiteful woman with her own menacing agenda charged through the dining room.

" Get out" Tommy quickly snapped with a huff. Swiftly laying out the rules of the home he should have done long before your return.

Begrudgingly tolerant of the woman who had thrown a spanner into the sensitivity of his business contacts, his patience had all but evaporated with the learnt information Johnny had shared with him that morning. But with Tommy now holding the upper hand, her wager was in dire jeopardy. The Governesses time left at Arrow House had rapidly descended into hours, if not minutes.

" I need Gerry to take me in the car" she said as she stood at the end of the table, her talons clicking impatiently on the mahogany wood.

" No" Tommy flatly stated as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth, mumbling incoherently his own choice words for her to leave under his breath as he lit a match.

" Tom" you quietly said as you rested your hand on his knee, cooling the rapidly burning fury within him, you knew was dangerously close to boiling over.

For even after her blatant disrespect towards you and the relationship you were trying to rebuild with your family. The last thing you wanted was for your young child's impressionable mind to see his father's anger slip out in front of him over a woman you knew full well was purposely trying to infuriate not only your husband, but you yourself, who had taken back your position she felt now belonged to her. Keep calm and carry on. The British way. And in this situation, the only warranted reaction.

" Taking my family into the city this morning. So..." He shrugged as he glared at her. "Walk" Tommy brushed her off, your intimate touch enough to catch him off guard and stop him from giving her the marching orders she was long overdue right then and there. In turn, sparing you from the outburst he knew she'd unleash and the encounters they had, she would undoubtedly reveal just to hinder your mending heart.

" Perfect. I'm heading that way too" her mouth curled into a smile as her eyes narrowed in on your husband.

" That's fine. Right, Tommy? " you said, squeezing your husband's thigh as your eyes darted to William intently watching his father's changing expression in response to her refusal to keep her distance, and the constant reminder of his lack of loyalty, even in your absence her presence brought.

" Right" Tommy replied clearing his throat, more preoccupied by the feeling of your hand resting soothingly on his leg. Wanting to feel closer to you. Patiently waiting for the moment you would approach him.

A family outing into town with a fourth wheel in tow. The quicker she was gone, the better. Tommy would no longer stand around with such niceties. She would be gone by the end of the day. Kicking and screaming, then so be it. But she'd be gone. He'd promised himself.

" Mr Shelby! Mr Shelby!" The young kitchen aid called out, catching up to Tommy as you headed out the door with William toddling beside you.

" What is it Billy?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow as he placed his peak cap on his head, motioning for you and William to walk ahead to the Bentley waiting outside.

" I...I need to speak with you" he stammered out, unaccustomed to speaking directly to the head of the house he worked in.

Fair and just. Tommy had never given any member of his staff a reason to fear him. But with the worried glances over his shoulder and his fumbling demeanor, the kitchen boy had not only Tommy's full attention but nagging curiosity as to what had him looking so nervous.

" Billy?" Tommy questioned, his hand firmly resting on his shoulder as he patiently waited for him to speak when the young man's eyes shot across the foyer to the Governess striding through. Her piercing glare enough for him to recoil and quickly apologise for having stopped your husband.

"N..nothing. Sorry to have bothered you sir" he said timidly stepping away as Tommy's head snapped back to the sound of the Governesses heels loudly echoing past him.

" Me, my wife or Frances. No matter the issue Billy, you come to one of us" Tommy said as he watched young Billy's eyes follow the Governess outside. " Understood? Billy?" He added, as the kitchen aid nodded before quickly returning back to the long days' work that awaited him in preparation for the gala of investors Tommy had planned for that evening.

There was no doubt in Tommy's mind that what young Billy had to say was halted by the presence of the Governess. Although determined to get to the bottom of what had occurred. For now his attention lay with you, his family. And the much-needed time he was desperate to spend with you. Just the three of you. At last.

After a short car ride into the city, with the Governess glaring at you with every second that passed, her eyes green with envy as she watched Tommy's thumb brush soothingly over your hand. You were relieved to finally pull up onto Watery Lane, and escape the tension her formidable stare had created.

"I don't think so" Tommy said with a smirk, his hand grasped firmly on the handle of the door to the betting shop, blocking the Governesses unwelcome attempts to follow you and William into the soot-covered terrace house and into the welcome arms of the Shelby family awaiting you. " Times up, love. Pack your bags and be gone by tonight" he said with a look of disgust, dismissing any further conversation with the woman he began to loathe.

" You're forgetting Tommy, that..." She began to seethe, thinking she still had the ultimate ace in her pack of cleverly played cards, before your husband swiftly stopped her in her tracks.

"That what, eh?" Tommy laughed, belittling any superiority she felt she still held over the situation. " You're not as clever as you think you are, sweetheart" Tommy said lighting a cigarette, blowing the fumes in her scorned face as annoyance settled on her perfectly primed brows.

" Been working your way around the whole country, haven't you? Thought you struck gold when you came knocking at my door. Guess you didn't expect my wife to come back though, eh?" Tommy said grabbing her chin, only a mere portion of the information he had learnt from Johnny briefly slipping through his gritted teeth as the Governesses face dropped at her scheming ways being unveiled.

" You'll regret this, Tommy Shelby. You and your precious wife" she spat back as Tommy's grip tightened.

" Get the fuck out of my house. And if you don't, I'll throw you out myself" Tommy snapped as his fingers dug against the bone of her jaw. "Believe me darling, nothing is beneath me. Even when dealing with the fairer sex" he warned her as he pushed her chin away from him out into the cobbled streets in front of his childhood home. Her blatant threats aimed at you enough for Tommy's questionable moral compass to slip even further. If he was going to kill a woman, it would be her. " Stay away from my wife and child" he warned her as he slammed the betting shop door in her face, leaving her fuming with a boiling rage the residents of Watery Lane precariously stayed clear of as they made their way back to their homes.

" What?!" She snapped as two young children hurried past her. Their eyes quickly averting to anything but the reddened-faced woman now marching down the muddied streets in the direction of where her new intentions now lied.

" Still 'ere then?" Esme asked, arms crossed, nose scrunched as she leaned against the shelf the Governess was scanning in the small convenience shop on the corner of the main street of Small Heath. " My John says Tommy's given you your marching orders" Esme said cracking a smile, her and everyone else in the Shelby family having never warmed to the woman that was intent on replacing you in every way.

" With child again, Esme?" the Governess scoffed as she looked down her nose past her hazel features to the swell of her stomach. " Don't your lot ever stop? What's this one? Third, fourth? I can't keep up " she laughed as she returned to the shelf, and it's curious contents.

" My lot. What's that supposed to mean, Gover-ness?" Esme was quick to respond, pushing her way between the shelf and the woman who was hellbent on insulting anyone who bore the name Shelby. Her disdain for the head of the family firmly at the forefront of her thoughts every waking hour of the day.

" There's that famous anger. Gypsies. You're all the same" she insulted, pushing past the blossoming bump and picking up a glass bottle neatly labeled "Rodent Poison", its killing substance, cyanide. Her swift concealment of her intended purchase going unnoticed by Esme, whose face had twisted in offense at the Governesses insulting, cruel words.

" So prim, so proper" your sister-in-law scoffed, as she looked at the neatly dressed woman from head to toe. "But I've heard talk. I know exactly what you are, how low you'll stoop. Governess to the upper class. Now running from a string of angry wives you wanted to replace and the affairs you had with their men" Esme smirked as she watched the Governesses quick wit falter, and her expression change to one of anger at her intentions further being exposed. " Your lot. Homewreckers. Filth" Esme spat with contempt as the Governess stood back, tightly holding the bottle against her body.

" Just this, Mr Higgs" the tall women said as she turned away from the braided beauty, placing the deadly bottle of household poison on the counter and paying. " Goodbye Esme" she smirked, before opening the rickety wooden door, the chime of the bell hovering above it announcing her departure and another step closer she was to playing her next lethal hand.

As the household staff hurried from room to room later that day, finishing off the last of their duties before the guests arrived. You kept yourself busy with worry with what the many invitees would have to say about your sudden reappearance at Arrow house as you prepared yourself for the dreaded evening.

" I can't do this...fuck. I can't do this" you mumbled under your breath as you shook your dressing gown off in front of the large standing mirror in your bedroom.

Stood there behind the dressing screen, your hand traced down your stomach over the faded scars that had turned opaque in the many months that had rolled by. A reminder of the home you kept your son safe, warm within the swell of your stomach. But imperfect, scarred.

Why won't they leave? You sobbed rubbing your flesh red, yearning for the body you had once, the one that captivated your husband's adoration. The one he wouldn't go a day without kissing every inch of. Was he no longer in love with you that way? Was that why he hadn't gotten closer to you? Kissed you? Your mind nattered to you as you turned to pull the sequin gown from its hanger, throwing it on the chair beside you when the door opened and your husband quietly walked in.

"Tommy, is that you?" You called out as you slipped your feet into your laced lingerie.

"Guests are arriving Y/N" he replied as he slowly walked towards the large wooden cabinet, pulling out a set of gold cufflinks. His initials intricately engraved into each one.

" Shit, I'm sorry. Can you help me, with the zip?" You asked, before quickly scrambling for the dress you had launched to the side in your flustered state. " No! Wait! Just...just hold on a second" you all but shouted, quickly pulling the dress over your knees before your husband saw your exposed body.

Coming to a sudden stop, Tommy waited behind the floral painted screen of Gardenias and Ferns, unable to stop his wandering eyes and loose footing from being captured by the soft amber lighting bouncing off the curve of your hip partially covered by the screen. Watching it slowly sway from side to side as you pulled the dress over your body.

Never had he felt so much desire, so much longing to hold you as he silently watched you glide the glittering gown up the edges of your body. The little he could see taking his already labored breath away from him within seconds.

"Y/N, darling?" Tommy said clearing his throat as he stepped back, recomposing himself and the collar of his shirt tightening around the pulsing vein in his neck.

"Ok, you can come" you said as Tommy cocked a brow, a small smile of amusement flashing across his face at your choice of words. Unbeknownst to you how true your statement was close to becoming a reality for him.

" I can't reach, can you just..." You said, gesturing behind your back as your smartly suited husband stood behind you, brushing his thumb down the middle of your back until the small zipper resting over the white lace of your underwear.

" You ok?" Tommy asked, swallowing heavy. Unsure if he was asking himself the very same question as he slowly pulled your dress together.

" Nervous" you smiled timidly to him in the mirror as you smoothed down the front of your gown, your face quickly twisting in uncertainty at your choice of dress.

" I won't leave your side" Tommy said turning you around as your hands came up to straighten his limp tie. " Not once " he said tucking the loose whispers of hair behind your jeweled ordained ears, his body slowly closing the small gap between you both.

" Promise?" You replied lifting your gaze to his hooded eyes staring down at you as you inched closer.

"Promise" he answered bending his head down to capture your ruby lips when a knock on a door and the announcement that all the guests had arrived stole the long awaited moment between you both.

And promise he did. Never once during the entirety of the night did Tommy leave your side as he worked the room and the many guests he had to greet, stealing small glances at you every brief moment he could to gaze at your radiating beauty. Whether it be talking to politicians or men of nobility, Tommy's hand protectively hovered next to yours throughout the evening, discreetly brushing over your fingers as he counted the hours to be finally alone with you again. He couldn't have hoped for a smoother night.

But calm is far from what was taking place behind the scenes of the glitzy evening of flowing ball gowns and filled champagne glasses that adorned the lower level of Arrow House. Far from calm.

With a smile painted on her face and a hop in her step. Your trusted housekeeper for the first time in a long time finally felt the early years of your residence in Arrow House joyfully seeping their way back into the heart of the home through the laughter and music that could be heard downstairs as she made her way up to William's nursery. Hoping he was sleeping as soundly as she had left him. But when she reached the door of your son's room, a reminder of the dark presence that still resided over the stately home could be heard whispering vicious words to the innocent ears of its youngest resident.

" I'll be your new mother soon. Your old mummy's not well, William. She left you, remember?" Don't worry she'll be gone soon" the Governesses voice hushed as she loomed over William's cot as he tossed and turned restlessly in his sleep. "Just you, me and your father, it won't be long now" she added as Frances watched on in horror through the crack of the door, her unfathomable words spilling from her thinly lined lips.

" Get out! Leave!" Frances' voice rose as she hurried to check on young William's well-being. " Mr Shelby ordered you to leave. If you had any sense, you'd go before he learns of the disgusting things I just heard you say"

" Oh Frances. The busy worker bee. Always listening, watching..." she giggled with a quick glare as she sauntered to the open door. " It will all end in heartbreak" she said as she turned around to face your trusted housekeeper and her hand firmly grasped onto the frame of the door, blocking any future attempts to reach your child and seethe her vapid words once again.

" When will you understand... Agness?" she questioned, speaking her name for the first time. Unwilling to use the title of Governess she no longer deserved. " You were but a minor distraction for him as he grieved and cried for the love he still held for his wife. He doesn't want you. Now leave" Frances said as the Governesses smirk dropped and her wicked hatred for anyone daring to get in her way spilled over into fury.

All it took was a blinding second, a swift merciless moment for the Governess to grab hold of the door and slam it shut on Frances' hand, crushing her wrist between the door and its frame.

Muffling her screams with all her might to not wake and frighten the young child in her care. Frances desperately tried to free her hand and the excruciating pain soaring through the snapping of her bones.

" Busy bodies always get their comeuppance, dear Frances " she said letting go of the door before her wrist gave way and broke.

Clutching onto her throbbing hand as she quietly wept. Frances slid down in a heap to the floor as she watched the Governess quietly walk away through her teary vision into the darkened corridor to a Charleston playing loudly downstairs.

"Frances! Frances!" The young kitchen aid caught up to her as she walked through the foyer, quickly grabbing a linen napkin and wrapping it around her limp wrist. " You're hurt" young Billy said, taking her hand as Frances stopped a young maid walking by.

" Go sit with William Ethel. All night. Don't leave his side" Frances ordered as the maid hurried with haste up the winding staircase to the nursery.

" What's going on? Is he Ill? I'll... I'll get Mr Shelby, Mrs Shelby" Billy stuttered as he looked at the terror weighing down your housekeeper's frightened face.

" No Billy. Let them be" she reluctantly replied as she turned to see the both of you dancing the last song of the night together, smiling lovingly at each other as small giggles joyously left your lips at Tommy's quick-footed steps. The happiness beaming off your faces tearing her away from interrupting your rekindling marriage. She would tell you in the morning. She promised herself.

" Frances, there's something I think you should know" Billy said, following her into the bustling kitchen as the staff washed their way through the many plates of canapes that had been eaten and glasses of champagne that had been drunk.

" What is it, Billy?"

As the evening slowly died down, and enough time had been spent in the company of people your husband had little, if any regard for other than their checkbooks. He quietly whisked you off to the small living room of your home to a lit fire and two crystal glasses of champagne waiting for you. Hiding you both away from any further small talk or pressing matters with the turn of a key. Alone, at last.

" Wasn't your finest moment, so I've been told" you laughed after recounting the story his brothers had told you about your poor husband's ghostly face and unsteady feet after hearing you scream bloody murder from down in the foyer he'd been pacing for near ten hours whilst you were in the throes of labor with William.

" Sweetheart.." He stopped, leaning forward to you with a smirk on his face. " You sounded like you were giving birth to the antichrist himself" he laughed, earning him a quick smack across the chest. " I've seen it at the pictures, so I know how that shit ends" he said tipping his glass to you with a cocky smile. The top three buttons of his shirt undone, waistcoat and cufflinks gone. For the first time in two years, Tommy looked relaxed. Happy.

" Yes well, good thing I gave you an angel of a son" you corrected him, taking a sip of your third glass of champagne.

" That you did" Tommy smiled to you. With his eyes glossed over with love, he reached his hand across the feathered cushion to softly rub his thumb across your knuckles. " How did I get so lucky, eh?" He sighed heavily, his eyes scanning across your face, engraving the very moment into his memory. Scared, his happiness would be snatched away from him once again.

" Tom..." You blushed, gazing up at him through your full lashes as a small nagging moment of guilt escaped the corners of your mind for having left him and your son.

" C'mere" he said, quickly simmering your worries as he ushered you closer to him with a tilt of his head, placing his empty glass on the table beside him.

With his breath hot against your lips, Tommy cupped your cheeks, closing the mere millimeters between you both and capturing your mouth in a tender longing kiss.

" Tommy..." You mumbled, quickly feeling the passion rise within you as the embrace intensified with the welcome feeling of your husband's tongue gently stroking against your own.

With a surge of confidence and a need to urgently feel your husband's body intertwined with yours, you pulled yourself up onto his lap as Tommy watched your hurried movements. Refraining himself and his own desperation to flip you onto your back, and bury himself in you.

Why was he just watching you? You thought to yourself as you undid each remaining button of his shirt one by one, a sudden wave of insecurity heating your cheeks as Tommy's hands stayed motionless by his side as his intent stare held still.

Were you rushing things, did you misunderstand his intentions ? Then why did he kiss you like that? Your brain ticked over with questions as he watched you timidly slide the straps of your dress down past your full breasts, sending a wave of desire through him as he scrambled to keep his composure, and let you take control of the pace.

Had he been too restrained? Shit. Did you think he didn't want this? He questioned himself as he watched your eyes fill with uncertainty as your hands hovered over the buckle of his belt.

" Don't stop..." Tommy breathed heavily as you apprehensively slid your hand down his trousers only to recoil with doubt that this was even what he wanted. " Darling please, don't stop..." He said swallowing harshly, his heart rapidly pounding in his chest at the long awaited feel of your touch as he torturously kept himself from taking things quicker. " Fuck" your husband moaned as you wrapped your hand around his stiffened cock, slowly pumping it up and down within your palm.

With your dress bunched up around your stomach, you lined his throbbing length up. Briefly lingering it beneath you, when your husband could no longer withstand the wait and his hands flew up to your waist sinking you down on to him with a gasp as he threw his head back in relief.

" Tommy" You moaned his name as he bucked further into you, his grip securely fastened on your waist.

"Sweetheart, look at me..." Your husband panted holding onto your hips as you rocked back of forth, eyes tightly shut, mouth agape in the highs of pleasure. " Y/N, look at me" he pleaded as he watched you finally open eyes, pulling you forward into a searing embrace before flipping you onto your back and ridding himself of the rest of his clothes

" Tom" you breathlessly whined as he thrusted into you, his hands tracing down the warmth of your body as he pulled at the fabric of dress in his way you was reluctant to be rid of.

" Stop hiding from me Y/N " Tommy said, as you pulled your gown back up, covering the scars your self-conscious thoughts resented as Tommy pulled out and knelt between your legs. " It's ok" he nodded reassuringly, gently moving your stubborn hands away and pulling the remainder of your clothes from your body.

"You kept our son safe" Tommy said, brushing his thumb over the small faded streaks as he watched your eyes well with tears. Hearing your worried thoughts without a single word leaving your lips.

" Hey, shhh" he hushed your fears away as he settled his heavy body down between your legs, his lips pecking their way over the slope of your breasts until capturing your mouth in his. " My wife. My beautiful wife" he said reaching his hand down to his pulsing cock, sighing at the feeling of your warmth enveloping him once again as he urgently entered you. " I love you Y/N" Tommy moaned between each labored breath as he rocked his hips into you, instantly ridding you of any doubt of his remaining feelings for you with three simple words. The sweetest of words you realised you had been waiting to hear to finally feel at peace with your past actions.

" I love you too, Tommy" you breathlessly moaned as you held onto your husband's strong frame as he pulled your legs around his back, wrapping them tightly against him to feel as close, as deep as he could possibly be. At one with you. Making love to you.

As morning came and the sun glistened through the netted curtains. Beams of light cascaded over the woven blanket draped over your tired bodies as you laid soundly asleep on the plush setee you had spent the night passionately making up for the many sleepless hours of darkness you had both endured. But darkness remained, looming feet from you. Creeping in unseen, unheard.

" Soon" The Governess whispered through gritted teeth as her fingers clasped tightly around the blade in her hand, her lust for vengeance close to sabotaging her deadly plan enough for her to find her way into the small haven you had made as she watched you from the door wrapped in a lovers embrace. " Soon..."

PART SIX (The Final) coming soon!

Tag List: @garrison-girl-08 @call-sign-shark @red-riding-wood @look-at-the-soul @lau219 @peakyswritings @babaohhhriley @naevisct @galactict3a @satanhauntedmytorment @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @kmc1989 @henrywintersdearestgirl @goblinjnr (unable to tag) @abaker74 @hummusxx @xvintageghostx (unable to tag) @sagecodm @isabbellagonzalezz88 (unable to tag) @girlwith-thepearlearring @minaxcarter (unable to tag) @cleverzonkwombatsludge @saltburnwhore (unable to tag) @outlanderuniverse @anastacia-lynn @sofiblossom @akemiixx01 @thelastemzy @xxbeckybeexx-blog @cyphah @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @kammsinn @nadloves @esquivelbianca @bruher @honeymoon8 @amberpanda99 @whorefortim @casquinhaa @globetrotter88 (unable to tag) @s0eul @depressed-but-make-it-cute @scarlet-sunflowers @malfoycassimalfoy @forevermoremagcon @emptyvoidofmine (unable to tag) @sweetcheesecakesblog

[pockymun]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I stole this from @little-box-of-wonders.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

10 as of today. (1 more planned)

2. What's your total A03 word count?

436,818 currently. There's a bit more I haven't published, and a lot of things that were cut.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now, just Final Fantasy XV. Still.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

I Want to Get to Know You, Son - 26 kudos (honestly I forgot this existed)

Etro's Blessing: Andromeda - 23 kudos

The Paradox in the Prophecy - 12 kudos

Final Fantasy XV Maps - 9 kudos (more of a resource fic than actual story, but it counts)

Etro's Blessed Ones - 8 kudos

I think it's worth mentioning that the kudos were given before I started to revamp the story. I Want to Get to Know You is the only fic that doesn't have worldbuilding or a whole cast of OCs in it.

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

Most of the time, yes! I really appreciate it when people take the time to say something about what they just read. I feel like leaving a comment unanswered is a little cold. It's difficult to answer comments without giving away spoilers, or maybe infodumping stuff that the reader didn't want to begin with. There are few comments that I left alone.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

That's a tough one. I write a lot of angst, but the endings usually have that small glimmer of hope that drive into the next fic. I plan on Reluctant Crownsguard to have the angstiest ending because that hope isn't there. But that's not written yet.

I think so far, Etro's Blessed Ones has the most angstiest ending because it ends with death, mourning, desperation, and a cliffhanger. It's intentionally left vague as to what happens at the cliffhanger, but clearly it's not good for anyone.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably I Want to Get to Know You, Son. That was about five years ago. I can't remember the ending, but it was slice of life, so it's probably happy enough.

I don't write happily ever after. It's unrealistic and gaudy. Characters get what they deserve, not what they want.

The Paradox in the Prophecy will most likely have a happy enough ending, but I don't think I'll manage to finish that one.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! I don't get a lot of hits to begin with. People on AO3 are decent enough to follow the "Don't Like, Don't Read" rule.

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

Not really. I don't care for smut, which makes me an outlier as a fanfic writer. It doesn't appeal to me and it doesn't have a place in my stories. There's only been one time where I considered a short scene of it, but decided to keep it innocent.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No. Too complicated. I prefer to add in additional worldbuilding and lore that wasn't in the canon.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't believe so! I have my fics locked on AO3 to protect them from bots.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I don't plan to. I might do a simple Google Translate lookup for some words here and there, but I don't trust it for full sentences. Full sentences of another language would disrupt the flow of reading, when the reader (and the writer) doesn't know the language.

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

No, although @groovytimetravelflower has helped me think through a lot of plot details (apparently I am unable to write anything truly on my own anymore!). I wouldn't be able to get along with anyone well enough to co-write something!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

That lady who trained Ed and Al in Fullmetal Alchemist, and her husband who's a butcher. It's been years since I watched the show.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The new Rekindled Rebellion. That's another fic with no canon characters, only OCs. It was grueling to write Heretical Oath, which is much the same. I have a lot of writing to work on, so I really don't think I'm going to go much further with Rekindled Rebellion.

16. What are your writing strengths?

It was dialogue, but I think I've made a lot of improvements in regards to perspective. I am very good at sticking with one character's perspective, and not giving information that the character couldn't possibly know.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Scenery and descriptions. I love how some authors can really paint a scene and give such ambience to their stories. I am not one of those people. It's something I try to work on a lot. Also I forget to describe the character who's giving the perspective, because they never focus on themselves.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I sort of answered this already.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

In middle school, I was writing X-men fic, before I really understood what fanfic was and the difference between the movies and the Evolution series, and the comic books. I switched to Kingdom Hearts in high school, because somehow that was easier to follow.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

I am still proud of how much Etro's Blessing: Andromeda has improved. It has a slightly stronger plot and leads in to the other fics nicely now. It's the start of the series, where there's a lot more potential of where it's all going.

Tagging @groovytimetravelflower @andywinter16 @pandansca(No pressure! Only if you want to).

[gtunesmiff]

Here we go again. 

It's time to start thinking about the Poetic Asides  2024 April PAD Challenge. 

In less than a month, we'll start meeting here every day to poem with poets from around the world. 

Past participants have included poets from the United States, Canada, Mexico, Spain, Germany, India, Japan, Australia, United Kingdom, South Africa, and several other countries.

I've run into teachers and students who've used the challenge as a way to work poetry into the classroom. 

I've heard from published poets with multiple collections that contain poems inspired by the prompts in these challenges. 

I've also heard from poets who wrote their first ever poems in response to these challenges—

and still other poets who've claimed the challenge helped rekindle their love of poetry when they thought it was dead. 

So I know this challenge is equally for beginning and established poets, because it's a springboard—a way to get started.

For me personally, I've written more than a thousand first drafts from the various prompts on here. I hope you'll join me this year.

What is the April PAD Challenge?

PAD stands for Poem-A-Day, so this is a challenge in which poets write a poem each day of April. 

Usually, I'll post a prompt in the morning (Atlanta, Georgia, time), and poets will write a poem in response.

Some poets share those poems in the comments on each particular post; others keep their words to themselves. I don't require comments to participate, but it does make it more fun when poets are sharing with each other.

Who can participate?

Anyone who wants to write poetry—whether you've been writing all your life or just want to give it a shot now, whether you write free verse or traditional forms, whether you have a certain style or have no clue what you're doing. The main thing is to poem (and yes, I use poem as a verb).I should also note that I'm pretty open to content shared on the blog, but I do expect everyone who plays along in the comments to play nice. There have been moments in the past in which I've had to remove or warn folks who got a little carried away with negativity and attacks. My main goal is to make the challenge fun for all—and a safe space to poem.

Where do I share my poems?

If you want to share your poems throughout the month, the best way is to paste your poem in the comments on the post that corresponds with that day's prompt. 

For instance, post your poem for the Day 1 prompt on the Day 1 post in the comments.

You'll find folks are pretty supportive on the Poetic Asides site. And if they're not, I expect to be notified via e-mail.

Note on commenting: If you wish to comment on the site, 

go to Disqus to create a free new account, 

verify your account on this site below (one-time thing), 

and then comment away. 

It's free, easy, and the comments (for the most part) don't require manual approval. 

That said, I will be checking daily in case any comments are flagged as pending or spam.

Here are some more April PAD Challenge guidelines:

Poeming begins April 1 and runs through May 1 (to account for time differences in other parts of the world—and yes, poets all over the world participate).

The main purpose of the challenge is to write poems, but I also will attempt to highlight my favorite poems of the month from poets who post their poems to each day’s blog posts. Some years this works out better than others.

Poem as you wish, but I will delete poems and comments that I feel are hateful. Also, if anyone abuses this rule repeatedly, I will have them banned from the site. So please "make good choices," as I tell my children.

Other rules, questions, concerns, etc?

If you need any other questions answered, put them in the comments below, and I'll revise this post as needed.

Other than that, I can't wait to start poeming in April!

2024 APRIL PAD CHALLENG BY ROBERT LEE BREWER

Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Editor of Writer's Digest, which includes managing the content on 

WritersDigest.com and programming virtual conferences. 

He's the author of 

40 Plot Twist Prompts for Writers: Writing Ideas for Bending Stories in New Directions

The Complete Guide of Poetic Forms: 100+ Poetic Form Definitions and Examples for Poets, 

Poem-a-Day: 365 Poetry Writing Prompts for a Year of Poeming, 

and more. 

Also, he's the editor of 

Writer's Market, 

Poet's Market, and 

Guide to Literary Agents. 

Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.

[rosiecroz]

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. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

whoever sent this, you are so kind! i haven't written in over half a year so this was a nice trip down memory lane <3

in order of posting (most recent to earliest):

a kiss this tender (bernardo/riff, west side story 2021, E rating)

Pins prickle behind Riff’s eyes. His body is not his own. He feels like he’s been doused in gasoline, and Bernardo is holding the match.

i'm sure most people will think this pair is Taboo(TM) considering canon events but this was the last fic i wrote in which i felt really good about my character voices. i'm particularly proud of the way i wrote riff's internal narration during the scene in the shop.

coffee break (keeley jones/roy kent/jamie tartt, ted lasso, T rating)

“What’s this?” Keeley asks. Roy wrinkles his nose when he makes out that familiar, tidy handwriting. “Says right there it’s from that prick, doesn’t it?”

if i don't achieve anything else in life, i can at least say i pioneered the keeley/roy/jamie tag on ao3. this fic is now in super AU land because i wrote it between seasons 1 and 2, but i'm astounded by how many kudos/etc i still get on it even though the series is potentially over. it's warmed my heart to see this ot3 gain its fans :)

rekindle (j. daniel atlas/dylan rhodes, now you see me, T rating)

Rhodes is an unknown variable in his system of chaos. Daniel wants to draw out that fire, extinguish it, then relight the dying embers with the sparks from his own torch.

a super niche pair in a super niche fandom but that's how i roll! i love these silly magician movies and i LOVE daniel and dylan's relationship. people who know me will know that i love writing fics that span canon events and incorporate them into developing (or established) relationships. this is one of those -- and i still love how i weaved mythology and the concept of heroism into this. one of my all-time personal favorites.

you're in my head, you're in my blood (joseph blake/lt. leslie, 1917, E rating)

Joe shuts his eyes. He already knew this was a ridiculous notion, but now that he’s trying and failing to explain it out loud, the absurdity of the ordeal has been cemented in his mind. What’s more, he didn’t even consider if Leslie was single or taken, had automatically assumed that it would be the former. He’ll apologise, hang up, show up by himself to the party, it’s not a big deal— “Okay,” Leslie says. “Okay,” Joe echoes. He blinks. “Okay…?” “You need arm candy to parade around at this party, right? So, okay.”

speaking of niche pairs in niche fandoms... it doesn't get any more niche than joe and leslie, aka the namesake of my url. 1917 is the fandom i fell in love with during the height of the pandemic. without it, i wouldn't have written so much, nor met so many treasured life-long friends. also, this is just one of many joe/leslie fics i've written but it gets a special shoutout because i was deranged and churned it out in one week (betsy can attest).

the long way around (steve harrington/billy hargrove, stranger things, T rating)

Steve turns around. He can’t believe his eyes. “Billy?” It’s weird calling him that, considering they’d never spoken more than a few words (and exchanged a lot of fists), but Steve is so taken aback that he blurts out the name without a second thought. Sure enough, it’s Billy standing there, still sporting the same blond curls, but they’re tied back and a bit longer than before. He still has those damn aviators. At least he knows how to button up a shirt now. “You’re a long way from Hawkins,” Billy says.

i was gonna link a will/tom 1917 fic for my last entry, but ultimately decided on this old harringrove fic. i haven't read it in a while so idk how well it holds up, but harringrove is the pair that made me start writing fic seriously. i had written just one fic previously (and it was many, many years ago), but then season 3 of stranger things happened and the rest is history. this is not the first harringrove fic i wrote but it is my favorite. steve and billy go on a road trip together ten years after the starcourt mall incident (obvious au timeline here) and i still remember constructing a google map for this fic to keep track of the places they stop at. this fic will always have a special place in my heart.

--

thanks to anon for letting me ramble a bit about my old fics!