#im main tagging this cause it took a while and im pretty proud of it

[sirenspells]

Somnium forms for the aiball sillies!! I had so many tabs open for references and inspiration but all in all designing them was really fun!

[lesbiannancytruther]

birds of paradise au but i compromise my morals

okay u guys

i know i said i would never do it

but im making a steddie-centric post :( im so sorry lesbians i hope u can forgive me bc im adding ronance in here as often as i can

starting with steve! i’m going with the classic cockatoo for multiple reasons: reason #1) they’re super lively, affectionate, and they make really strong bonds. reason #2) that HAIR

yeah im making a hair joke OKAY. cockatoos also need a lot of attention and affection which is like steve’s base need to survive, they’re literally known as “the velcro bird” like come on

making both nancy and steve cockatoos is an intentional choice, it added to their “they’re a perfect couple!” factor in high school and steve took it as meaning nancy and him were soulmates or smth. nancy liked it because it was as perfect as she needed it to be. i think they really do still have that bond as having a lot of similar needs and enjoyment in children’s princess tents, and they are way closer when they admit there’s nothing romantic between them.

regular cockatoos are bigger than galahs and yeah steve’s wings are p big and he flexes that shit HARD, even though he gets kinda dunked on cause cockatoos r pretty and not... carnivorous? is that the main manly bird flex idrk im a lesbian

steve is super physically affectionate, mainly with robin but he quickly extends it to nancy and eventually eddie when they get close, it’s how he gives and receives love and it’s fun okay

an idea of his wings as well :)

+ bonus point he and nancy make jokes about their similar wing patterns

onto eddie and YEAH im being stereotypical abt this one bc that mf is so raven coded. emo ass wings. yeah. and before u ask: yes im a firm believer eddie is confident no insecure mf will actively stand up on a lunch table and make a joker society speech okay. he’s curious and he struts and he’s intelligent! also the more talented flier in the steddie dynamic even though his wings are thoroughly messed up bc he absolutely doesn’t care for them. steve and nancy have the same “wtf let me fix it” instinct its true

also random stobin hc steve saw robin’s messed up wings and wanted to fix them but every time he really tried robin kinda pulled away? making it clear that steve is still robin’s BEST friend and they care for each other deeply but i think robin places a certain weight on an activity like that and when nancy was like “dude wtf” she was kinda floored and was surprised with how okay she was letting it happen. steve respects robin’s boundaries regarding her wings immensely but that fucker absolutely nags her for it and robin is always like “what was that? oh im sorry i thought i heard someone with absolutely 0 bitches say smth”

okay back to eddie but steve is always the one that has to wrestle eddie to get him to sit still and clean up his wings and when he’s done eddie is shocked his wings feel normal and not awful and steve is like “go fucking figure”

eddie’s wings are sleek and long and, when cared for, glossy as hel;. his feathers are super distinct and for some reason i feel like he sheds so steve is always like “eddie was here.....” when eddie walks by.

+ eddie’s wings :)

eddie is super playful and likes to mess around with the party and the other three alike, always being the one to spur them into a game of sky tag (man idk) or smth which always leaves the group breathless and laughing (yes nancy won)

eddie is a BIG FAN of the raven doombringer aesthetic, its super awesome to him and he’s very proud of it

eddie hoards shiny objects all. the. time. he gives random pieces of jewelry out when he feels like it (its to people he cares abt but he would never say that out loud) and im a firm believer in him wearing ornamental jewelry on his wings like silver skulls and chains and stuff. the others take to it because it actually is really cool.

eddie gives steve gold chains and random charms personally that steve manages with, while robin notices nancy’s interest and gets them matching charms, nancy’s in gold and robin’s in bronze. (i imagine they’re books referencing their first real conversation).  nancy is also a fan of artful thin gold chains and she gets robin bronze bands to bound the base of her wings in a neat way.

steve and eddie don’t get together until much later, always being weirdly distant but respectful of the other. it’s not until robin and nancy hanging out so often that their respective besties (steve and eddie) r like “hang out with us more” which brings them together to hang out more and they actually get along pretty well the more they talk

they then start to branch off on their own and i think they’re pretty slowburn. steve doesn’t really know what he wants and eddie is happy to wait until he finds out what he does. when steve initiates the kiss its slow and nice and experimental and robin and nancy flex on them for figuring out way sooner (in a very teasing manner ofc)

robin: nancy, and u know i love u babe, probably had the worst comphet i’ve ever seen and she still figured that out way faster than you

steve: in my defense nancy is smarter than me

they’re flock and i love them bad :( i want to add jargyle to the mix but i genuinely have no clue what their species would be so if y’all have any ideas pls drop them in my ask box! also take requests for certain characters i haven’t mentioned yet and also in general for any of my aus u can pop into my ask box to ask <3

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

PLAY SMART

Che “Taza” Romero x Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: Another crazy idea. I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @arveeee ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Adjusting the green shirt to your chest, you go out of the clubhouse followed by Creeper drinking a coffee on a cardboard cup. You’re walking faster with your gaze on the front, directly to the car scrapping. It supposed that you should start in one hour, but if you arrive earlier, you can also leave earlier. You don’t want to see Taza after what happened last day, when his ex-wife came to the workshop because her car was having problems with the engine. She talked you as if you were a servant, or something like that, so you couldn't shut up and spoke to her in a sarcastic tone that she didn't like. Of course, she told Taza. At first, you didn’t care, until you saw how they said goodbye, with so much love and affection. Gilly told you that they have been married for almost fifteen years and that she was back to town indefinitely. It was like a shoot straight to your heart.

You aren’t nothing, but for the last months there has been a flirt environment installed between both, always pulling and loosening. But with his ex-wife in Santo Padre and by the way she had of touching him constantly, you know that what you wanted so bad it’s not going to happen. So you’re trying to not match with him. And that hurts. The only thing you can do it’s work and go home. No Mayans parties, no more nights at the clubhouse and no more rides back home on Taza’s bike. You can’t fight with a woman who knows him since ever and who was married with him for too many years. You didn’t know that something like that could happen, he didn’t talk you about her and it seems like it was a surprise for him too.

“Dammit, mama, you look like shet’”. Angel’s confused voice pushes you back to reality, making you shake your head for an instant.

“I didn’t sleep last night”. You shrug your shoulders and arms.

Messed bump, eye bags, no makeup and the shoelaces untied. You sigh after having a look of yourself, leaning down to tie them. The sun seems to disappear, raising your gaze surprised till you find your boss’ eyes, crossing his arms over his chest covered by leather. You swallow quietly, licking your inner lip before continuing with your task. 

“Everything ok?” You ask playing fool, hiding your nervous voice for a while.

“I don’ know, everything ok?”

“Yea’, I just… start earlier ‘cause I need to go to Santa Madre”.

“Sure. Why you didn’t come to the ranch last night?”

“Last night? What hap— Oh! Oh!”

Taza raises both eyebrows, while you still playing the innocent one palming your forehead.

“Shit, I forgot the Mayan dinner...” Clicking your tongue, you snort heavy.

“Let me tell you something, (Y/N)”. Facing you with hardly two inches between both, he leans above your ear provoking you some chills. “Soy un perro muy viejo, para que un cachorro me intente engañar”. (I'm a very old dog, and a puppy can't lie to me”.

“I forgot it”. You insist. “I was tired and I fell asleep on the sofa”.

“Look at your face”. The man says without changing his position. “Not everything is what it seems”.

“Ok, boss. I get it”. 

Taza doesn't say anything else, hitting his shoulder against yours to pass you away. Rubbing it you turn to the oldest rolling your eyes. Creeper and Angel are staring at you, trying to understand what is happening, but you don't wanna talk about it. Work and go home, that's all you want. The Reyes, putting an arm on your shoulders, shake his head disappointed 'cause he's starting to know what's going on having all the clues on the table.

Going upstairs to the office, you hug Chuckie as soon as you see him, asking for the hours signature quadrant. Your turn is already finished and completed and you also have the afternoon free, so you could rest the time you didn't last night thinking about the things that it's not going to happen, driving you crazy. Leaving the car scrapping' shirt in your hanger, you grab the helmet next to your bag, ready to leave. 

And she's there again. You can see her from the top of the stairs, hugging your boss and kissing his cheek as you used to do it. You're going downstairs slow, concentrated on not looking like you're jealous. Yes, you two were nothing, but you feel some kind of things that you would like not to feel right now. Taking off your phone of the pocket, you dissemble when he catches you looking at them, walking towards your motorbike to put the helmet on. 

“Wait a second”. You hear some meters away, while your sitting on your bike. “Eh, (Y/N)!”

You want to make that you didn't listen his call, but it would be too evident, so Taza waits for you to reversing and stop again. 

“I'm sorry for the hit”.

“Yeah, it was rude”.

“Are you hurry?”

“Yeah, a little”.

“When will you back at home, ah?”

“I don't kn... Why it feels like I'm talking to my father?”

“Because you're so fuckin' annoyin'”.

“Great, thanks. Another bullshit, Taza?”

“You know what? Fuck off”.

“Yeah, pretty one”. Rolling your eyes, containing the tears in them, you turn the engine to run away from the front yard.

Bishop texted you about four pm to tell you that Yuma and Stockton charters were coming to Santo Padre by night, so they're having a party and he needs you along with EZ to attend the bar. That's precisely what you were avoiding to do, be at the clubhouse more time than necessary. But guessing that you should work just for two or three hours accompanied doesn't seems a big trouble to deal with. So you're in.

Driving you car, 'cause it's gonna be easy to come back home after the party, you reach the car scrapping parking there so your Camaro will be safe in case that anyone decided to start a friendly fight. They usually do, for no reason. Last time, your motorbike suffered the consequences, even if they took care of the fixed. Walking betwixt a lot of crap mountains, your steps go straight to the green main door with mayans symbols finding the crowded yard. Stockton are already there, mixed with the Santo Padre' ones. EZ whistles you, claiming for your attention with that charming smile he always have on his face. You greet the guys raising your chin for a second, whilst going close to the prospect.

“Take the Jose Cuervo in the warehouse, I'm on my way for beers”.

“Okay”. You nod then, turning to the right and guiding your legs to the huge metallic structure by a side of the clubhouse. 

Grabbing the trolley at the entrance, you walk towards the end of the warehouse to leave it there, so you can place five boxes on it. Bishop calls to the door, even if it's opened asking you for come in without words. He walks in, closing it and resting his body against a shelving.

“You ok, kid?”

“Yea', just a bad night, prez”. You nod showing a soft and fleeting smile, presing the low rod of the trolley leaning to you and putting im by the two wheels.

“You didn' came to the dinner”.

“I'm sorry, I forgot it”.

“Did you?”

Leaving a sigh on air, you don't know what to say, pursing your lips as you place your gaze in nowhere.

“I saw you… kinda arguing with Taza this morning. Twice”.

“I—”.

“You know you can talk to me, rai'?” He sounds serious, crossing his arms.

“I just… made some illusions. The kind that fuck you down, when you realize that they're… just that. Illusions”.

“I know what you're talkin'bout. Play smart, kid. You're not stupid”.

Might be the best advice someone could give you, and you know you should. But sometimes, you can't simply do it. After leaving you there, you continue your walk to the clubhouse, going upstairs carefully with the tequila boxes. Opening the door with a push of your back, EZ notices you ready to help you. When everything is placed, the prospect offers you a shirt with the Mayans logo to change it for yours. Like somekind of uniform.

Once you're wearing it, you walk outside to receive the Yuma charter, hugging Canche as soon as he sees you.

“What's up, chamaca?”

“Not much, just another party working, not enjoying”.

“When you finish, make a place fo' me in your busy schedule. I need some help with my bike”. He says placing a hand on your shoulders, so you can follow him to his men to greet them too.

“Sure! I'll let you know when I'm done”.

A car coming calls your attention, turning under Canche's grip, to find the owner.

“What the hell…? Isn't that Taza's ex-wife?”

“Yep”.

“What she doin'ere?” The president asks you confused.

“Don' know. Ask her ex-husband”. You answer with a singing voice and both eyebrows raised.

“That bitch fucked him up”.

“Did she…?”

“Yea', I heard something 'bout a one-night-stand with a Vato. Oscar told us”.

“But they seems so close”.

“Taza is a good man, you know him”.

“Yea'...”

Pursing your lips at the man, you shrugs before start with your tasks of serve beers and tequila shot for everyone there, with EZ help. You can't help but thinking about that woman who came from nowhere with some kind of clear intentions, and now you're understanding was what Bishop trying to tell you. “Play smart”. So you will. Grabbing the coldest beers and putting them on a tray, you carry them to the first picnic table outside, where the main members of your charter are sitting. Leaving there, one for each one, you sit close to the Padrino who puts an arm around your waist.

“You look good in that shirt, kid”. He says proud, having a look from top to down. Since you started to work there, he has been the most gentle man on earth with you and it's something to be thankful for. “How's your week goin'? Didn' see you last night”.

“Tired week, need to rest, padrino”.

“You look like. Are they treating you good, or taking advantage that you're so helpful, ah?”

“To be that ‘helpful’ you have to show some respect first”. You hear that irritating feminine voice behind your back, before she appears in front of your eyes with a hand on Taza's left shoulder.

“Take off that Vato's dick of your mouth, before talking about my kid”. Padrino's voice is calm and peaceful, surprising you about it, and creating an uncomfortable silence on the table. 

You're fucking done. Done in a good mood, 'cause well, no one piss off padrino's kid. Palming his back, you get up of your seat to grab the tray and go back to work, as soon as Oscar claims your attention to ask for some beers. At least, now you know what happened, even if you're trying to figure what's she doing here. Not for you, but for Taza. Because she doesn't deserve someone like him, not after what she did. Double disloyalty. And that's screwing you more than you thought.

Even if it's something that it's in your head all the time, you make sure that doesn't influence in your work, letting it for later. And when you're already finished with it, leaving EZ with the rest, you go straight to Canche. As soon as you're done with him too, you can be close to Taza to make it up to him because of your paranoia. And so you do, sharing the same table with a beer in your hand. You don't know why his ex-wife continue there, but you don't care. Not anymore. Sitting in front of him, again by padrino's side and Bishop at the other, you try to get in the conversation. Easy task 'cause they're talking about a travel coming soon, and they need your help to check the motorcycles before leaving.

“Okay, I can do it tomorrow evening. Just leave me the keys at the office”. You say then supporting both forearms on the table, nodding for a while. “So, gas, oil and pressure… Yeah, it's fast to do'et”.

“Can you check my bike's direction? I think it's a little bit turned to the left”. Taza says then, and you know that's only a excuse to talk with you. Like, right now.

“Is it?” You hesitate, raising an eyebrow before having a sip of your drink, getting up of your bench.

“Yea', and the brake is a little hard. I think EZ squeezed too much”. He's getting up too, letting go the uncomfortable grip of his ex-wife.

“Okay, let's see”.

He walks next to you, offering you the keys so you can turn on his bike. Pressing softly the gas, to do the same with the brake. It's not. But seems like he wants to leave the yard, at least, for some minutes.

“I have the tools in my car”. You say then, turning of the engine to push the handlebar so you can make it moves. 

Going down the alley, with the Vicepresidente behind your back smoking a cigar, you reach the Camaro. You don't have any tools on it, but you really want to hear what he wants to tell you. So you simply leave the motorbike parked, next to your car, and resting your body sitting on it giving him the keys.

“She asked me to stay at the ranch”. He says then, keeping them inside one of his pockets. Sounds like you should reply something, but you'll not. It's his house, not yours. “I don' know what she doin'ere. But I don' even care”.

“Good for you, Taza”. You shrug with pursed lips.

“Let's be clear, kid. We're nothing”.

“Okay, I'm done with this bullshit”. You laugh loud getting up from his bike, and shaking your hands, trying to hide the bitterness and looking for the control remote of your car.

“Listen, listen”. Catching you by your left wrist, he stops your moves.

“It's fuckin' okay, Taza. You don' have to give me any explanation. I'm not your... fuckin' wife, nor your fuckin' girl. I get it. But let me tell you something. It's fucking grievous seeing a woman how fucked you up with a fuckin' Vato, trying to get back what she lost. And you, let her doin'et. You deserve good things, and you should love and respect yourself a little more”.

“Well, than'ya' for your kindly words. But I'm not letting her doin' nothen'. And I also talk her 'bout you”.

“Seems like she doesn' give a f— You did what?” Narrowing your eyes and letting you go, you cross your arms on the chest.

“We're nothing, but I would like to be something”. He clarifies you. “I asked her to leave and just came to pay what we fixed in her car. She stayed for a beer”.

“Yes, close of his ex-husband”.

“Focus on the fact I wan'to be with you, and not with her. Think about'e”.

Taza leaves you there, alone, carrying his bike when seems like you don't know what to reply at this words. Sitting on the hood of your car and lighting a cigar between your lips, you have a long smoke that rips your throat and also your tongue. You're somewhat jealous, you can't help but trying to see the point of playing smart to mark somekind of territory without looking like he's a piece of meat. But with that kind of women, it's all you can do. 

Putting well your shirt on, after throwing away the cigar, you walk towards the front yard with hands in your pockets. Some ideas are dancing in your head, trying to choose the best way to deal with it. But when you see her, sitting again by his side, and trying to hug him… Good lord, you can't help but losing your modals and your gentle mood. 

“Che, take me home”. You just say, stopping in front of the crew.

“Haven't you a car, ah?” She asks raising her chin somewhat proudly, grabbing the Vice's arm between hers.

“Haven't you a Vato's dick to suck, instead of annoying everyone around you?”

God, those words come from the depths of your soul. Making the guys chuckle as she gets up full of rage.

“Watch your mouth, niña. You don' know who I am”. Pointing your chest with a finger once and again.

“Yea', looks like I don' give a shit that I don' even know your name”. You face her, not afraid. “Southern border is close, come back to your hole, whore. You don' have anything to do here”.

“Did you ju—”.

“Shit, yes, I did”. You roll your eyes, being fast enough to avoid the slap straight to your face.

El padrino takes you back, as Bishop and Angel go to her before she can try it again.

“You heard her, go back to southern border”. Taza says placing himself between both, turning then to hold your forearm and leave the front yard.

You don't say anything into your way to his motorbike, putting on the helmet as he turns it on. Grabbing his waist with your hands, he runs out of the clubhouse. You know he's mad. You can feel the tension on his body, driving the road he knows by heart to your house, taking his time as he looks like he's thoughtful.

When he stations the bike in front of your house, so you can jump off of it, you keep his gaze.

“'You gonna leave?” You ask him a little bit nervous, taking off the helmet to supporting it against your abdomen.

“'Don' know. What you want?”

Hesitating for a second, you take a step closer placing a hand on his nape, to press your lips on his. It's the first time you two kiss, after some weeks wanting it. He pulls you away, thinking that you screwed it up, until you see him getting up to leave behind his back the motorbike. Cupping your cheeks on his huge hands, Taza kisses you again. Tangling your fingers in the flannel shirt to push him closer, your lips move alone on his. It's better than you could imagine, tasting the tequila in his saliva and beer in yours. A perfect mix. 

“So, are you gonna stay?” You almost beg between short and dearly kisses, finding yourself walking to your house, giving your back at it.

“Fuck, yes, baby”. He nods lifting you up, so you can surround his body with your legs.

[lady-plantagenet]

What are your thoughts on Jaime x Cersei, Jaime x Brienne, Tyrion x Tysha, George x Isabel, and Henry VIII x Anne Boleyn? (Sorry for the long list!)

Glad to see someone else feeling charitable and letting me vent my unsolicited opinions 😂. Saved the George x Isabel for the last cause I’m sure it will be the longest lmao!

Asked Via: Send me a ship and I'll give you my (brutally) honest opinion on it: https://lady-plantagenet.tumblr.com/post/627331607624302592/send-me-a-ship-and-ill-give-you-my-brutally

Jaime x Cersei: Despite it’s fundamental flaws, it is... titillating to read. The idea of people falling in love with their own other-gender counterpart is twisted yet so intriguing. I must confess that I am not as disgusted by incest as most people, so bear that in mind. The thing is, Cersei is definitely a narcissist with a lot of internalised misogyny and this ship just feels so justified to her character.

The issue is, and as the books go on, it becomes quickly clear that Jaime’s love is not as deep and as his appearance changes, and they no longer look identical Cersei’s own mental image, Cersei’s love also wanes and then you’re hit with how shallow it was. So I ship these two... but I also don’t because they’re toxic? Honestly, book-wise I am intrigued to see what will happen, if they end up together... or they don’t... either way I’m sure it will be quite a ride. You see, I’m not emotionally invested.

Jaime x Brienne: Oh the Sapphires... Obviously anyone who cares for Jaime’s wellbeing would want him to end up with Brienne as opposed to Cersei. I read this interesting theory recently on how these two don’t actually love each other but confuse their strong platonic feelings of affection for romance. You see, that’s also an interesting take as both characters are quite bereft off opposite gender friendships.

However, I strongly ship them romantically as well, Book!Brienne (hey show as well!) is truly admirable because based on her choice in men e.g. Renly, you can see how she had still not given up on her maidenly fantasies and I just love her for that, because true love isn’t something to which only pretty women are entitled. She in many ways represents salvation for him as she being a true knight in spite of her gender, can veer him back into the path of chivalry. He is most chivalrous around her, I mean, not only because her good conduct influences but also because he performs some of the most knightly deeds by cause of her e.g. rescuing her from the bear pit. I like this ship, it’s a good trope subversion.

Tyrion x Tysha: I find this one of the more heartbreaking ships of ASOIAF, because to me it represents Tyrion’s loss of innocence.

She is a haunting figure because of how small remnants of her memory were enough to pull Tyrion into the toxic relationship he had with Shae e.g. she too hard dark hair and there was music around when he met her. Its one of those weird (as @omgellendean put it in her brutally honest ask tag answer - a character who consists of only a name), but unlike Ashara Dayne, she is not idealised and given this over-the-top tragic story. So this elusive Tysha is an entity by what she symbolises: foregone youth and a sweetness that has no place in the ASOIAF universe.

Henry VIII x Anne Boleyn: As I said in my last ask. I cannot tolerate the romanticisation of infidelity, and that is especially when the male’s spouse is a wonderful woman fit for him and has done nothing wrong. I don’t have strong feelings against Anne Boleyn herself, as I prefer to see her as ‘Anne the Educated and Sophisticated Reformer’ as opposed to ‘Anne the Seductress’. Ugh let me just say... rule of thumb for whether it’s a good pair: Do thousands have to die for your selfish desire to be together? Yes? Then probably not meant to be. Just a thought.

I think Anne knew her own mind and I like to think her strong beliefs influenced her decision to breach this marriage (no I didn’t think she was her father’s pawn gah I’m sick of that term), but they were ultimately unsuited in everything and it was a passion brought about by Henry’s caprice. My heart breaks when I think on how Anne could have been happily married to Henry Percy. I’m also tried of this whole ‘master manipulator of men’s hearts’ reputation Anne is getting. You do realise refusing to be a mistress was not being a tease as much as it was just being a conventionally virtuous woman..? The girl knew her worth.

George x Isabel: Oh god. I promise to not start writing an essay. As weird as it is to ship dead people, they are my OTP, the main characters of my main historyfanfic, and frankly the most unsung couple of TWOTR. The fact that there are no records of letters or any particularly over-the-top romantic gestures by either of them, just intrigues me more because it was very much a relationship defined in subtle deeds. If you peruse the more academic TWOTR literature you can see all the fine but conclusive evidences of a devoted relationship: He posthumously enrolled her in a guild when he stayed there with his children (months after she died), he was buried together with her and her ancestors not his, how during 1470 he sent her to Exeter for her safekeeping while her mother and sister remained at Warwick and when a siege broke out he (and his father-in-law) immediately rode south to lift it and the amount of expenses and care he put into her funeral. Not to mention, the hassle it took for them to get married: years of trying to get a dispensation underneath the king’s nose culminating in them having to cross the channel.

The thing is, it had a lot of politics behind it and to be honest I don’t find that less romantic. It was one right for both of them: for the wealthiest heiress in England and the handsome younger brother and heir of King Edward - truly no one else would do for any of them. One of the things that grabs me is the medievalness of it all, how they were bound together by what was essentially a plan to reverse the country’s inevitable transition out of ‘bastard feudalism’. You also get a sense of how this marriage despite the ultimate failure of its purpose (to make George King) brought George the chance to establish himself as a major magnate through his wife’s lands which ultimately became his main source of power as opposed to his royal status. The relative peace that ensued after 1472 shows that his status as Warwick’s political heir (as Christine Carpenter put it) did something to placate the disapointment of not becoming king. So the way I see it, Isabel’s death took from him any of the satisfaction and peace she brought with her lands and persona as he once again reverted to his old (even more than before) reckless self. Not to mention the people he executed after her death in his grief believe in her to have been poisoned (most historians believe that’s unlikely).

Aside from that, in a society where pretty much everyone strayed (even Anthony Woodville had a bastard daughter), it is quite heart-warming how the man known for his treachery, happened to be one of the only ones loyal to his wife: no bastards or women were ever linked to his name not even in rumour. As for Isabel, she is quite a shadowy figure but you get the sense she was intelligent because of the care her father took in preparing her as his heir, because of her wealth you get this sense of majesty and significance about her. The two times we can deduce anything about her personality is a true supporter of her husband: once, when deciding to treat with the Yorks behind her father’s back to reconcile George to them, second, remaining steadfast to George when he tried to squirrel her sister Anne out of her inheritance. Based on the homage she paid to her ancestors, she seems proud of her ancestry so it’s quite intriguing to think why she made the aforementioned two choices, endangering her father and sister in favour of her husband. And oh god I’m rambling, I can say even more if you can believe it but I shall stop. Overall, one might think I’m wishful thinking but frankly Anne and Richard are touted as star-crossed lovers all the time and with even littler evidence to support it (not that I don’t ship them, I do). I might be subjective, but the story of George and Isabel’s life is just so compelling...

[thewolfisapartofmysoul]

Hey lovelies,

Dewey x reader time! Going on a roller-skate date with our sweet rocking Dewey Finn. And yes... we all know Dewey would wear heelys, right? Fluff and hints to smut ahead.

Hope you enjoy 💕

Skater-boy.

"Dew!! Mister Finn! Get your rocking ass over here pleeaaaaase! I wanna gooooooo, baby!" Impatient as you was, you already finished lacing your roller skates when your boyfriend was still getting his stuff out of the car. You were done with your skates and decided your hair was only getting in the way when you sported. You reached behind your head to tie your pink locks in a bun as you heared a whistle on your left.

Ready to scold whoever had the nerves to whistle at you like you were a dog, you grinned as you watched Dewey approaching you. He took a sprint, and you literally facepalmed when you noticed he came actually rolling towards you. Was... was Dewey Finn actually... wearing heelys?! You snorted when he smoothly rolled your way, deciding that went way too smooth to be unpracticed beforehand.

Dewey stopped flawlessly an inch before your feet and winked at you: "Hey miss cotton-candy... have you by any chance saw my smoking-hot girlfriend? She looks exactly like you... but on the main has more patience and is a few inches shorter..."

He helped you on your feet and you kissed him sweetly with a chuckle. "Yayy!... i can reach whitout having to stand on my tiptoes! See Dew?" Dewey smiled against your lips and hummed a happy "Yeah babe. I can tell. If i didn't know any better i would say that you are excited."

You nudged his shoulder and rolled your eyes. "Wel... if I didn't know any better i would say that you secretly practiced your heely skills Dew..."

You heard dewey scoff, his hand on the crook of your neck as he pushed his nose against yours he mumbled: "What can i say? Im a natural. Plus... school is the perfect place to practice. All tiles and smooth floors..."

You pressed one more kiss on his lips and chuckled when you noticed Dewey tried to follow your lips with his, not ready to lose the contact yet. He was adorable as hell when he was this soft and needy.

"You rock everything you touch babe... but i gotta admit... i did not suspect the heelys." You murmered against his lips.

He grinned like an idiot and pulled up his skateboard. "...yeah... that one I did expect Dew. Now... come on! Let's go, let's go, let's goooooooooo sweety!!!!" You tugged him behind you and he smiled at your antics, finding you incredibly adorable all excited like this. Your enthausiasm making him excited as well.

.....

You both had been skating for almost an hour or so, and your feet were starting to hurt a bit in your skates.

Dewey hopped on his board again and held your hand as you skated on his left. With a happy smile on his face he took your other hand too. Making you drag him behind you as you skated. It worked for a bit, cause you had enough speed, but after a while you both stopped going forward and he dryly bumped up against you with a small thump.

You and Dewey laughed ridiculously hard at the silly scene and plopped down on the board together. Using it as your seat for now.

You noticed Dewey was getting tired too, his hand absedmindedly brushed your knee. He huffed and dropped his head on your shoulder. Your hand tangled in his brown locks and pressed a gentle kiss on his hair as you patted his knee. "Hey champ? Youknow that i always wanted to learn how to ride the board? I tried once, fell and gave up after that..."

You looked to the side and smiled at Deweys features, his eyes were comically wide and he stood up abruptly. Extended his hand to pull you on your feet and he was already bouncing up and down with excitement. He flopped the board under his arm, looked at you in awe while smiling just as bright as when he was strumming his beloved guitar. Okay... maybe a bit more excited even. Dewey cleared his throat, took your hands in his and dropped to one knee as he excitedly blurted out: "Honey....pleaselemmeteachyoutoridetheboard!!!!"

You snorted at his antics, why on earth did you deserve this treasure of a human? You nodded yes and you chuckled at his beaming face... a happy puppy would be jalous of the features he was rocking. His utter 'joy and excitement face'. Said excited face went to a even higher state of excitement as you pulled him close and stilled his bouncing for a second when you gently kissed him.

When you pulled back you took frowning look at your skates, but Dew was faster then you could speak. Flopping the board on the ground with a thud, he dropped his backpack on the concrete and snatched your sneakers out of the bag with a proud smile on his face. You beamed back at him and winked "Right... My Dewey always comes prepared..."

He swallowed thickly, the innuendo didn't go unnoticed and you snorted again. He was just... so easy to tease somtimes.

You grabbed his shoulders for support, as his hands held your waist you switched your skates for the sneakers. "Oehh... sexy... like your happy-socks babe." Dewey teased back as he tickled your side. Honestly happy to feel the concrete under your feet again you wiggled your toes in the shoes and sighed. You were a bit worried about getting on the board, your last incident didnt end that well.

One look at Dewey made your mind shift... he looked so... happy. He wouldn't let you down, in any way, including the concrete.

Dewey senced that you were nervous though, squeezing your hand in reassurance he mumbled: "Only if you want to sweetheart, i will not let you fall. Promise."

You awnsered by kissing his stubble murmering: "Im good Dew... just... dont let me go okay? Small steps."

He bounced up and down like a 5 year old on a sugar-rush and nodded excitedly. He turned around towards the board and smacked your ass as he cheered: "Hell to the yeah!! Lets go!" You hissed back: "Dew, darling.... Behave!"

Dewey held your hand as he leaded you towards the board. When you were almost there he stopped and bowed: "Your carriage awaits m'lady." You rolled your eyes and scoffed but smiled nonetheless. His calloused fingers took hold of your forearms and he purred at you: "Step right up angel, im holding you up."

You took an anxcious, wobbly step on the board but felt Dewey supporting you. Dewey saw second of fear flash in your eyes. He squeezed your forearms to get your attention and sternly spoke: "Hey... love... look at me... keep your pretty eyes on me. You're doing great." He loosened his grip on your arms a bit but didn't completely let go, just like he promised.

"Whooow!!! You're doing it!!!" Dewey cheered happily at you and you proudly beamed back at him. He pulled you a bit closer to him, holding your forearm with one hand, wrapping the other on your waist. He pulled you into a happy kiss, and you felt him smile against your lips. His stubble tickeling a bit as he deepened the kiss and he hummed against your mouth. You chuckled: "Dew... my man... i can't quite figure out what you say, when your tongue is in my mouth youknow?"

He grinned at you, and you noticed a blush creeping up his cheeks when he mumbled: "Im proud of you, love."

He pulled you close against him and you laughed when he picked you up and lifted you off the board. He gently put you down on the floor again, hugging you as soon as your feet touched the concrete. Pressing a soft kiss on the top of your hair as you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, taking in the smell that was all Dewey.

"There ya go doll... nice and small again, all tiny whitout wheels." Dewey teased you and you went to stand on your tip-toes to rub your nose against his affectionately. "...well mister Finn... im not small, my love for you just highly concentrated."

Dewey pulled back and booped your nose, after that he abrubtly sprinted off: "Last one by the car is a loser!!!"

You sighed and watched the big kid run off towards the car, a smile creeping up your face. He was fully dedicated and pulled out his heely trick again, rolling towards the car with a loud excited "whoow!" As you watched Dewey pump his fists in the air in victory, you picked up the skateboard and walked towards your boyfriend. Said boyfriend was currently jamming in the car, singing along with the lyrics: "...and all the guys say Im pretty fly, for a white-guy..."

You slumped into the seat next to Dewey, and he winked at you: "Hey... it's the prettiest loser on the planet and beyond..." he joked.

You rolled your eyes with a smirk on your face, crept a hand slowly up from his knee till his thigh as you breathed against his neck: "...Well, well, well mister-rock-star... Guess you arent getting any tonight... and that's a shame. Cause i kinda have a thing for skater-boys..."

Dewey swallowed his taunting laugh away and looked at your pouting face. He reached out untie your pink bun, biting his lip as you did so.

You made sure to make a show of shaking your hair loose and felt Dewey tangle his calloused fingers inside your hair. He pulled your face closer to his and you heard him purr softly when you stroked your way further up his thigh, setteling when you felt the belt of his jeans.

Dewey's face was flushed as you stared at him intently, your lips inches away from his and whispered: "How long is the drive home skater-boy?"

He licked his lips and awnsered in a raspy voice: "erhm... 20 minutes..."

You teasingy pressed your lips against his, hearing him growl in desperation when you stroked him trough his jeans. "Gotta start the car to get it moving sweetheart."

Then you slumped back in your seat again, evil smirk on your face and plopped your feet on the dashboard as you two drove home.

Admittedly: it only took Dewey 14 minutes and a half. He ignored one red light and almost hit the neigbours car when parking... but it took him 14 minutes.

Tagging: @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @hoodoo12 @large-unit @little-miss-shy-goth @thats-specific @vicunaburger @ironmansuucks @h1de-s0urce @go-commander-kim @stranger-strings @bugdrinkss

[darkhymns-fic]

Murder with a Side of Lies (Ch. 8)

A discarded notepad sits on the table, crinkled and stained with ketchup...

It doesn't belong here.

Fandom: Undertale Characters: Sans, Flowey Rating: PG Chapters: 8/8 Mirror Links: AO3, FF.net Notes: The sequel to Kidnappings in the Early Evening by Sky. A fusion of detective noir fiction and courtroom drama! All stories, art, etc., related to this main story will be under the tag #undertale noir. (chrono)

Suggested reading music and some rain...

First Chapter Previous Chapter

[Chapter Missing]

 nice. free notepad. paps must have forgotten it. finders keepers

 butts.

  hehehheh. butt butt butt. my favorite pie is buttspie with lots of butter.

 What did one wave say to the other?

Nothin’ he just waved.

What did the grape say when he got stepped on?

Nothin’ he just whined.

i should probably have someone actually say something for these jokes to be a bit more effective, huh? nah.

 What’s a mummy’s favorite music genre?

Mummy wrap.

heh. heh. that one’s really really bad aint it. that’s a keeper.

 some reason i get the urge to write more than just bad jokes here. like I wanna say more. that’d be weird tho, wouldn’t it?

heh, and i aint weird.

 What did the flower say when his house caught on fire?

Nothin’, he made like a tree and leafed.

Why did the flower need a job?

He was dirt poor.

Why was the flower feelin’ so blue?

Can’t find the root of the problem there.

 really got flowers on the mind, don’t i? wonder why that could be.

 you know, it’s strange. i keep coming back to this notepad even though my mind says why bother. what’s the point in writing down what I see or feel? not like anyone’s gonna read this, heh.

but why not. let’s give it a go. i’m interested, for whatever reason.

 i’m sittin’ here at tori’s bakery shop. it’s raining outside, like always. got a plate of that butts pie im so fond of. it’s good, but(t) could use more butts. table I’m sitting at is uhhh… looks like a table. yep, sturdy. round? It’s round. that’s how these things go. you describe all the stuff here, right?

it’s pretty late here. no one’s around at this time of night. tori’s nice enough to let me hang out after closing and feed me the leftovers she didn’t sell, and I’m cheap enough to take ‘em. she really goats me, i guess.

usually tori would be swappin’ bad jokes with me right now, but she’s been pretty busy since that trial ended. turns out, no one was willing to take over the family’s duties after ol’ gorey got sent away. Not even fish face. kinda expected her to take over. guess she’s too busy playin’ detective with my bro.

tori, bein’ the nice lady she is, decided she’d take up leadership. probably for the best. if anyone can manage building homes for the poor and being generally kind to all us monsters, it’s her. i certainly don’t know what bein’ the leader entails, and im not exactly rarin’ to find out.

although, between you and me, it does get a bit more boring in the shop without her around. oh well. guess that’s why im writing this, isn’t it?

it’s so boring, i don’t think I even have anything left to write. dang. guess i’ll just go back to writing bad jokes.

 Why didn’t the Flower eat chloroform?

He was chlorofull.

 heh. really havin’ a bad time tryin’ to think of something other than flowers.

 maybe it’s cuz I’ve been thinking about my good pal, flowey, a lot lately. can’t blame a guy, can you? tori literally has him on her person at all times.

  Well. Most of the times.

 I don’t think Tori knows it, but that little scamp escapes sometimes when she’s not lookin’. Heh, but it’s not like he’d get into any trouble, now would he? No, no, that doesn’t sound like the good natured Flowey I know. His parents would never allow him to get into any trouble.

His parents would probably protect him from anything. Even though he didn’t see ol’ Gorey much, I get the feeling Flowey’s dad really cared about him…and I mean really cared for him.

I shouldn’t be gossiping. But, it’s not like anyone is going to read this anyway, right? There’s nothing wrong with writing down some of my own little speculations. Just a hypothesis, is all.

Now, while I’m sure Gorey was quite the nice guy, he did some awful things. Maybe he did them because he thought they were right. Maybe he did those things knowing it was wrong, but believed it was for a good cause. Honestly, can’t say I blame him all that much either way.

This leads us back to the trial, though. Boy, that trial was objectively a good time. I’m so proud of my bro. He proved me wrong a number of times. If it weren’t for him and fish sticks, I probably would have sent an innocent person away.

Instead, I sent a not-quite-innocent person away.

Heh. heh. Tori had me promise I’d be a fair judge. A good judge. She told me to take it seriously, don’t mess around, don’t favor anyone. Me, like the bonehead I am, I promised her I would.

Why do I keep making promises I know I’m just going to break?

Oh. Spoilers, I guess. I broke that promise towards the end of the case. I don’t think Asgore killed that Burger fella. In fact, I’m pretty sure he didn’t. Still, I let them convict ol’ Fluffybuns.

I wasn’t sure what happened until he took the stand of course, till I heard all the facts from metal head and fish face. The ideas, the guesses, they were always in the back of my skull, gnawing away in the dark, but I suppose I’m good at ignoring things like that.

Something needed to be done with Asgore, after all. He needed to stop those little bad habits of his. I couldn’t see a more peaceful solution than this. Us monsters have never really needed to make a jail, after all. They were strangely forgiving, even knowing what he did.

The monsters in charge of the judicial system, (Mettaton, Gertrude, myself and a few others) decided we’d keep him under house arrest. At least, that’s kind of the best way to describe it. He’s not allowed to leave his home, not really allowed to do anything without The Family (aka Tori) knowing. People can still come visit him, ask him for advice, make a bit of tea, but that’s about it.

So I get what you’re thinking. Asgore (supposedly) kills an innocent kid. A monster kid no less. He only gets house arrest? He got off easy. Well, to be honest, we thought about the death penalty. It was an uncomfortable subject and it was clear there was no monster out there that would be able to carry it out.

Well, heh, guess that’s not completely true. 

The guy’s pretty sad still. But, I think he’s feeling a little better. He’s left to those plants and flowers he loves so much. Not many come to visit him, though, but I think they’ll come around. This is probably the happiest ending that could come out of the situation, isn’t it?

Still, if Asgore didn’t kill that monster, though, who did? Who did, I wonder? And why?

Once again, I want to remind anyone reading this (but no one is reading this, so it doesn’t matter) that this is all speculation. I don’t have any proof, and I never witnessed anything myself.

But…

I get the feeling my pal, Flowey, killed Burgerpants. Strange, I know. Very strange. Flowey is such a cheerful, happy, helpful little friend, isn’t he? Why would he ever do something like that?

Well, first, we need to understand why he was with Asgore at the scene of the crime that night. I have a hunch. I think ol’ Gorey finally got enough of what he wanted out of his little bad habits. I think he wanted to give the fruits of his effort to Flowey, hoping that maybe it’d turn his son back to normal.

Problem with that, is Tori wouldn’t let Asgore near Flowey. She was very adamant, believe me, the arguments those two would get into got pretty heated. (get it, cuz fire magic) But, my good friend, Flowey, he’s a crafty little guy. He’s made some escapes; he’s gotten into contact with his father before without his mother’s knowledge.

How do I know that? Just a hunch, that’s all. What? I’m not the type to stalk people.

This brings us to that fateful night. If I had to guess what the scene would be, it’d probably be like this:

The rain musta been pouring like it always is. Asgore probably waited in that alley way for a good amount of time, without an umbrella. He was soaked to the bone, but poor Gorey felt he deserved it. He had soul and he had determination.

Once Flowey actually showed up, he probably did that sickly sweet thing he likes to do. Call him “daddy” and all that nonsense, really get into Asgore’s head. It must have been difficult seeing his son like this, but I bet Asgore was thinking it’d all be worth it. All those horrible things he did, all of it would be worth it if he could see his son again.

Although, thinking on it, human souls and determination are all well and good, right? You can do some great things with those on your side, but isn’t it missing one important ingredient?

Right, right, I forgot. A monster’s soul.

Flowey doesn’t have one of those, now does he?

Still hypothetically speaking here, of course… Asgore knew all this. He knew a monster soul would probably be needed. But, I don’t think he meant for it to be Burgerpants. I don’t think Asgore planned on giving any monster’s soul but his own.

Flowey, being the precocious scamp that he is, also knew a monster soul would be necessary. This whole thing was probably just a misunderstanding.

Poor Burgerpants, though. Wrong place, wrong time. How can a guy be so unlucky? Hey, whenever I’m feeling down, at least I can remind myself some other guy had it way worse.

Anyway, this Burgerpants fella shows up, and here’s what I think happens. Flowey misunderstands the situation. Or maybe he didn’t care. Maybe those dark habits of Asgore rubbed off on him in that moment. Maybe Flowey was just feeling particularly grumpy that day. Who knows? I certainly can’t read that flower’s mind. Don’t want to either. Hope I never do.

Flowey kills Burgerpants on the spot before Asgore can even react. A huge vine, full of thorns, slams him into the dumpster. Looks like a claw mark (or maybe a trident mark), heh. Now, remember, little flower boy is the son of two incredibly powerful fire users. Even if it wasn’t on purpose, I think he’s still got a little heated edge to his attacks. Explains why the time of death couldn’t be figured out. Dust was still hot. No one expected fire magic.

This frightens Asgore. This was meant to be his son, Asriel? How could this cruel being before him claim to be his son, yet be so full of hate? Maybe Asgore blamed himself at that moment.

Either way, he couldn’t go through with it after that. Maybe everything he did would go to waste, maybe those humans died for nothing, but he couldn’t keep making mistakes, now could he? Just because he buried a hole so deep for himself, didn’t mean he had to keep digging and take everyone with him, right?

Probably good thinking, I’d say. Best thinking he’d done in a while.

I’ll bet Flowey lost that sweet charm of his after that. I’ll bet he demanded those souls and that Determination from Asgore. “Why won’t you give it to me?! I’m your son!” he probably said. Maybe even threatened him when things didn’t go his way.

Asgore must have been feeling real bad at that time, but you gotta remember, through it all, he is still a father. A father disciplines his child. For the first time in years, maybe even ever, I think Asgore raised his voice at Flowey. I think he told Flowey “Go home to your mother, never speak of this again.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I get my --”

“I said GO!”

And just like that, Flowey was afraid. He’d never seen his father like this. Ol’ Fluffybuns actually mad? Boy, almost wish I coulda seen that.

But I didn’t.

Flowey must have dug back into the ground, running away to his mama while papa cleaned up after his mess.

Heh, it’s a good thing no one else figured it out, right? If Tori found out about this, would she be able to live with herself, I wonder? I have no idea what she might do. What would everyone think if they found out Flowey was a killer?

I think it’d be a lot of trouble for the little guy. I think he knows better now, though. I don’t think he’s ever going to hurt anyone again, or else he’ll have a pretty bad time.

Luckily, this is all guess work. No one has to know. No one needs to mess up this happy ending we got. No one’s going to read this.

 guess this is just between you and me, isn’t it, pal?

...

..

.

The notepad had appeared on his bedroom table that night. Flowey knew it wasn’t on accident. He read the thing, read through the crappy jokes and the even crappier handwriting. His leaves trembled slightly, his vision blurred multiple times.

With an angry toss, the notepad slammed into the lit fireplace. The flames ignored it completely, of course. Toriel’s fire was never hot enough to burn.

With the grit of his teeth and the furrow of a brow, the fireplace erupted in flames. The notepad was devoured, disintegrated.

Turned to dust.

The thought unnerved him, haunted his mind. It was best to douse those flames now, forget it ever happened.

The fire cackled at him.

And the rain poured.

That smiley trashbag…