#love you all I hope your June the third was excellent

[xoxoemynn]

25K posts out of spite.

Imagine what it'll be like when OFMD is saved and we're posting out of love.

Manifesting, babes. Manifesting. 🕯️

[its-time-to-write]

Omg I'm loving your response to my prompts!! thank you

I have a few ideas (You don't have to do them all) just throwing them out there to see what sparks ideas!!

I love secret admirer stories (I know its no where close to valentines day but still) maybe Reader is Rebecca's assistant and keeps getting gifts leading up to valentines day but she is pretty sure its like Sam or Isaac and tells friend Jaime (even though its really him) then the day of the grand finale and she comes to the lovely surprise of it being Jaime!

also if you could include Scarlett red roses in it for me (They are my favorite flower and the only flower I'm not allergic to)

So. I liked this one. Maybe too much? It might be the longest one I’ve written so far, so, uh, sorry about that. But I liked it a lot. It might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy. also the gif isn’t Jamie Tartt but it is Phil Dunster so hopefully that’s ok

honey, i’ll give you all my time

Good god, it’s February all ready. You have a love-hate relationship with the month; love, because Galentine’s Day and hate because Valentine’s Day. You and your friends would go out on February 15th to get discount chocolate from the shops, then return home for an ungodly amount of takeout and a movie. On the whole, you all preferred action movies with a good romance. 

You’re dreading Valentine’s Day because it’s when your boyfriend of two years held your hands in his, and told you he wanted to break up. 

That was a year ago. You’re mostly angry that he’s a dark stain on one of your favorite holidays. You’re absolutely determined not to let him ruin your enjoyment. 

This is also the first year you’re not with your friends. You moved away last March because you realized your ex had been holding you back in far too many ways. 

So. To recap. 

You’re alone. You love Valentine’s Day, despite it forever being the day of your breakup. Your friends aren’t here. You have new friends. There is no one to go to the shops with on the 15th. But discount chocolate is still discount chocolate. 

Your current job is as a personal assistant, something you excel at. You basically anticipate needs, meet them, and just generally make your employer’s life a whole lot easier. The application said the job required a lot of travel, but all expenses (minus some food) were covered. 

You were shocked when you got an interview, then a second, then a third, then were hired. 

Your boss is a woman named Rebecca Welton, and you’re half in love with her, but who isn’t, really?

You swear you’ve never been in such a healthy work environment. You mention it one day, early on, and she says it’s all thanks to their head coach, someone named Ted. 

You meet him for the first time later that day, and you understand. 

It’s impossible not to love him, because he has vision. He knows what he wants from his team, and he knows how to get it. 

He believes the team extends far beyond the players. 

He believes it extends to you, too. 

Ted and Coach Beard steal you from Rebecca as often as they can, claiming emergencies such as “a toxic amount of testosterone from all these boys,” “life-threatening boredom,” and last but not least, “there’s a new pun Ted absolutely needs to test right now and he won’t take no for an answer.”

(You like to give Ted honest feedback on his puns.) 

You also find yourself in their office when Rebecca is out for lunch, eating your respective sandwiches and swapping life stories. 

They remind you a lot of your parents.

It’s mid-June when you mention the Valentine’s Day story. 

It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s punctuated by Ted’s “he didn’ts” and Beard’s perfectly-timed gasps. 

You find yourself laughing halfway through, unable to stop. 

“And anyway,” you finish, cheeks painful from smiling so hard, “that’s why romantic love is a joke and I am drowning myself in platonic love forever.”

Ted and Beard share a look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Beard says. 

You shoot him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Well sweetheart,” Ted says, “between the two of us collectively,” here points between him and Beard, “we know of at least three of the boys on the team who are madly in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp, “How did you- where did you- who??”

Ted zips his lips and Beard tips a finger to him. “We know of five if we count Rebecca’s intel.”

You’re sitting cross-legged on the edge of Beard’s desk, in shock. “Rebecca knows about this??”

Ted and Beard shrug in unison. “We all have our opinions on which one should shoot their shot, but that’s neither here nor there,” Ted says. 

“Coincidentally, it’s the one thing we unanimously agree on,” Beard nods. 

You’re cut off from saying anything by the door opening. One of the players stands in the doorway. 

“Excuse me, coach,” he says, accent thick. 

Ted motions in a you have the floor type of way, and the footballer turns to address you of all people. “We’re all goin’ out tonight, and Keeley sent me to invite the new girl. None of the lads have really met you yet, just seen you ‘round. Thought it might be good for team bonding, or something. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “I guess- yeah, I guess I haven’t really met them. I mean, I see you guys around and stuff and I’m at your games, but I don’t really know you. Are you sure you want me to come?”

Jamie shrugs. “Coach is always on us about bein’ a team or some shit. And, havin’ a girl around makes the lads look good.”

You think that makes sense, and then find yourself agreeing to go out that night with a group of footballers you don’t know, and (thank god) Keeley Jones. 

You’re going to figure out which five before the summer’s over. 

—

You have nice time out with the lads. They go to a bar and cram into separate booths. You’re wedged in between two who have introduced themselves as Isaac and Dani, and across from Sam, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas. Roy, Richard, and a few others you don’t know are milling about, and you see Jamie and Keeley at a table, surrounding by giggling girls. The sight is so absurd that you catch yourself smiling and turning back to whatever conspiracy Bumbercatch is telling you about now. 

—

You put Sam at the top of your list as soon as you get home. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, or maybe in his eyes, but you’re positive that he’s one of the five Ted and Beard referred to. One down, four to go. 

— 

It’s the end of July, and you begin to become friends with the team. You know for an absolute fact who is not interested in you, Jamie being one of them. Coincidentally, he’s the one you become closest to. You think it’s because you’re not worrying about sending mixed signals or leading him on. You dropped public hints about not really looking for anything romantic, just to be sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

As it is, Jan Maas and Dani have made the list. Jan Maas, because he stifled his Dutch bluntness for you and Dani, because he openly declared he was madly in love with you in front of the whole team. 

—

Isaac makes the list in December. It had been in between him and Bumbercatch, but Isaac was the one who walked you to your car every night and the first one to say hello to you every morning. 

You’re not gonna lie, it was cute. 

You shared some of this with Ted and Beard, who remained impressively stone-faced. Rebecca proved to be equally impervious.

You shared all of it with your lunch-buddy-turned-work-bestie, Jamie. 

You ate with him because Rebecca was constantly in lunch meetings these days, and Ted, Beard, and Roy were always revamping their football strategies.

Jamie would plop down at your table and say, “What’s the news, Amy Hughes?” in his perfect Mancunian accent, and then listen/add commentary to whatever you had to say. 

You explained to him that the reason you wanted to know who liked you was so that you could be extra careful with their hearts. You knew what it was like to be led on, and you did NOT want to do that to someone else. 

Jamie nodded thoughtfully at that and then said, “We’re all footballers though, ain’t we? We get the shit end of the stick all the time, hearts broke by models and whatever. Even ends up in the fucking press. Everyone here’s has their heart broken before, and we all know you aren’t doing it on purpose.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s short end of the stick, Jamie.”

And thus begins your lunch hour of bickering. 

—

No one has made a move on you yet, and you don’t have a read on number five. You still think it may be Bumbercatch, but in reality, it slips from your mind. Sam’s moved on, Jan Maas has accepted defeat, Dani swears he will love you until the day he dies, and Isaac stays, well, Isaac. Still sweet. Still walking you to your car, coming round extra early in the morning with a coffee or a water, depending on which “looked less like shit.”

Really though, you don’t think about it until February first, when you walk into your office to a small box on your desk. 

At first, you think it’s a box of Ted’s biscuits. 

Then, you notice a small, scarlet-red rose taped to the top. There’s no note, and all that’s inside is a tiny paper heart. 

It’s folded with extreme care, and you place it on your shelf, smelling the rose. It smells amazing and you make a mental note to figure out where the heck it came from. But for now, it’s time to work. 

—

You don’t mention the gifts until February third, because now there’s been one a day. Each one with a scarlet red rose, and a different gift. Yesterday was an incredibly expensive bar of chocolate (it was life-changing) and today is a tiny gold bracelet.

It’s a simple enough chain, but it is absolutely breathtaking. There is no mistaking the fact that it is not cheap, so you take it and march straight to Rebecca’s office.  

“Rebecca,” you say, hands outstretched, “look.”

She does, smiles, then says, “It appears you have a secret admirer.”

“But I don’t want that!” you cry. “I don’t even have time for that! I don’t even like anybody right now!”

She peers at you over her glasses. “Don’t you?”

The sheer weight of those words is enough to physically knock you back two steps. 

You don’t, you swear you don’t, you’re absolutely sure. 

What about Vienna? a voice in the very back of your head nags.

You reply, out loud, “We don’t talk about Vienna,” and Rebecca just shrugs. 

“Have it your way,” she replies in a tone that means this conversation is over, but you’re the one ending it.

You turn on your heel and find yourself taking the route to Ted and Beard. 

You burst into their office in such a flurry that the entire room turns to look at you. “Close the door,” you say with such urgency, that Trent hurries to comply. Beard even shuts the blinds. 

“What’s on your mind, Ollie Cline?” Ted asks. 

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. You point to Roy. “Do you want to be here? It involves feelings.”

“Fuck no,” says Roy, “thanks for being fucking considerate.” He follows it up with a pointed glare at Ted, then goes into his office and firmly shuts the door. 

“Can he be here?” Ted asks, tilting his head toward Trent. 

“I don’t care, he’s probably a good one to have around for this because look!” You present the three collected roses and the bracelet. 

“Someone’s started leaving me gifts, and I’m pretty sure it’s a Valentine’s thing because of the roses, and it was fine for the first two days but this is expensive, and I can’t accept this!”

Ted and Beard share a look. You hate it when they do that and leave you out. 

Ted sighs. “Listen, do you think this about Vienna?”

You fix him with a glare. “No. We are not talking about Vienna ever again.”

Trent pipes up, “What’s Vienna?” and you wheel around on him, taking your glare with you. 

“Vienna," you spit, like it’s poisonous, “is a terrible, awful place where people think terrible, awful things. I never want to talk about it again and I never will.”

Trent nods. “Noted.” 

You turn back to Ted and Beard, pleadingly. “What do I do? Tell me what to do.”

Beard gets up and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Kid, if you want my advice, take the damn roses and wear the damn bracelet. These boys make more money than they know how to spend, so just let it go. They all know how you feel about dating, so if someone’s shooting their shot, they know the stakes.”

You shake your head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll let it go.” 

—

You decide to tell Jamie on day five, because it’s a Friday and you’re dying to get his take. You tell him everything, show him the roses in your office (hanging upside down to dry), and then hand him the notebook that was in today’s box. 

“Jamie,” you say, “this is an expensive notebook. There was a typed note inside that said, ‘for your drawings.’ How did this person even know I like drawing? I never talk about it!”

Jamie looks at you and laughs a little. You’re very flustered for something most people would enjoy. “Dunno, love, but we’ve all seen the sticky notes you leave Coach. That might be it.”

You groan and flop down into your chair. 

“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” you say.

—

Jamie’s phone dings at 9:00am on Saturday with a text from you that says, what the actual heck and a picture of a brown bag at your doorstep. Inside is a plastic box of your favorite lemon muffin from a local bakery. He emphasized the image, then waits for your response. 

It was still warm, you write. It was someone who knows where I live and knows what time I leave to get breakfast.

Jamie grins and sends you a shrugging emoji, and you respond with an eye roll and a you’re no fun.

Jamie reads that and privately disagrees. He thinks he’s lots of fun

—

You’re pretty sure it’s Isaac. After all, he’s the only likely candidate. He’s one of the few who knows where you live and knows your routine. Not in a creepy way, in a we’re-good-friends type of way. You bring this up to Jamie, after personally banning all talk of this with Ted, Beard, and Rebecca. Stupid Vienna. You should never have told them. 

Jamie shrugs for the millionth, infuriating time. He’s been noncommittal this whole time. You’re over here pouring out your heart and soul, considering whether you like Isaac romantically or not, and all he can say is, “I dunno?” 

This is not the Jamie Tartt you’ve become best friends with. 

That Jamie would be down to hunt this secret admirer with you. That Jamie would be helping you figure out if Isaac had a chance with you. That Jamie would be way more engaged than the one sitting in front of you right now. 

But, you suppose maybe that Jamie died in Vienna, so you stop bringing it up.

—

It’s day ten. Valentine’s Day is in four day, and you’re nervous. 

You’ve decided you don’t like Isaac like that, mainly because it shouldn’t take you that long to decide if you like anyone. There has to be an initial spark, and you shouldn’t try to manufacture it. 

Still, you’re not sure it is Isaac, so you’re not going to say anything about it. The scarlet red roses hang on your office wall, permeating the room with their scent. 

You feel like you’re dying. 

This is a cruel joke and you’re dying. 

The building is basically empty right now. Rebecca and Higgins have some meeting, the team is on the pitch (including Will) and various other staff are somewhere far away from you. So, you jump a little when Trent Crimm comes tripping into your office. 

“Vienna,” he says, no greeting. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m assuming you do want to talk about it, but you don’t want judgement from the people you love. I’m here to offer my services as a neutral party.”

You look at him. “Trent. You are a journalist. Your whole job is writing down people’s secrets. Why on earth would I talk to you about the worst day of my life?”

Trent shrugs. “I’m good at keeping secrets. This would be off the record. I’ve never lied to people about off the record, also. I consider it bad journalism.”

You consider this for a moment, then sigh. 

“Alright,” you concede. “At least if this gets out, I know whose head I’m shaving in retaliation.”

Trent looks at you in surprise, seeing you in a whole new, slightly threatening light.

“It happened two months ago. It was around Christmas, and I didn’t have anywhere to go…”

—

Your family all had their own separate plans that Christmas. Plans that didn’t really involve you. Same with your friends. You said something casually to Rebecca, and the next day she told you she had booked you a trip to Vienna. Call it an early Christmas present, she said. It was at the Aumaris Vienna, and it was gorgeous and ridiculously out of your budget, but she said you worked hard and gave her peace-of-mind, and you can’t really put a price on that, can you?

So you went. 

But here’s the thing. 

Someone else didn’t have Christmas plans. 

So when you brought up your trip at your daily lunch, said someone else casually asked, can I come? 

You almost choked on your sandwich. 

Because here’s the other thing.

You were, maybe, kind of, possibly just a little bit head over heels in love with this someone else.

You’re not sure when it happened, really, just that it was probably in August and that it was soul-crushing because you knew for an absolute fact that he did not, and never would, feel the same way. 

You didn’t tell anyone except Keeley, but under the condition that she just let you say it and that she never, ever give you a response to it. Just listen. 

She did, but you were pretty sure she almost combusted. 

But who are you to say no when Jamie Tartt invited himself on your luxurious Christmas vacation saying, I’ll pay extra to get a plane ticket next to you? 

You were doomed from the start. 

To make matters totally and impossibly worse, he couldn’t find another room. 

He had his tickets, but the hotels, he said, were packed. 

It was Christmas, after all. 

So that’s how you ended up in a luxury hotel with Jamie Tartt for a week and a half, one day of which was Christmas. 

You know the, “there was only one bed” trope that everyone thinks is so cute?

It was that, but only if you add deep, shattering heartbreak to it. 

Because every night, you had to listen to Jamie say, “goodnight, love,” and then get into that giant, soft bed as far away from him as you could manage. 

Every morning you woke up to the pillow barricade long gone, one of his arms thrown around you. Or one of your legs on top of his. Or a million different scenarios where you end up literally asleep together, some weird gravity pulling you to each other. 

You were falling so hard and so fast, that you felt like the air was knocked from your lungs when Jamie started talking about the girl he liked. 

“She’s just so fucking beautiful,” he’d say, staring at an Alpine mountain. Or, “Swear she’s the smartest fucking person I’ve ever met,” while traipsing through the city. Or, “Pretty sure she’s ruined me for everyone else,” while getting facials at the hotel spa. 

To be fair, you were the one who teased him into admitting he liked someone. 

You just didn’t expect it to hurt so much. 

The entire trip felt like heaven and hell had simultaneously converged on you, and you never wanted to leave but also desperately counted the days till it was over. 

You came back and broke down in Rebecca’s office. Ted and Beard were there. The whole thing came spilling out, about how you loved the trip so much it felt like your heart would explode but that Jamie loved someone else. 

They all exchanged looks amongst themselves and did their best to comfort you. 

You pulled yourself together and they promised never to say anything to anyone. 

—

“So that’s Vienna,” you finish. 

Trent is just staring at you, mouth slightly agape. 

He finally says, “My god, that’s fucked,” with such emotion that you decide right then and there that you like Trent Crimm and his rainbow mug. 

Now, you just shrug. “I did it to myself, honestly. That’s why I’m tripping out about this secret admirer thing. And god, Trent, the roses. They’re so beautiful and it’s so romantic, and whoever it is obviously knows me well so there’s a part of me that wants to like this person, but…” you trail off. 

“But there’s a part of you that’s hoping against hope that Jamie’s behind it all,” Trent finishes. 

You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Trent looks at the roses, then at you. “Maybe you should talk to Jamie,” he says, gently. 

You reply with a forceful, “No,” and then follow up with a small, “That’s what Ted and Rebecca say, too.” 

Trent stands up, shrugs, says with a small smile, “Just a thought,” then he’s out the way he came. 

—

It is Valentine’s Day. And it’s a Sunday, which means you are legally required to stay in bed until 10, at which point you will get out only to make yourself decent enough to go buy a good cup of coffee and maybe (definitely) something to eat. 

You’ve just finished putting on your shoes, when there’s a knock at the door. 

You take a breath, and get ready to let down your secret admirer as gently as possible. 

You swing open the door to reveal- 

“Jamie! What are you doing here?”

Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep, hands behind his back, looking shyer than the day you first met. 

He opens his mouth and says the last thing you’d ever expect:

“D’you remember Vienna?”

Your heart, which had already been going fast because his dumb floppy hair was all dumb and floppy in his stupid, cute headband, is now working double time. You manage a nod. 

Jamie takes this as permission to continue. “D’you remember how I couldn’t get another room, no matter how hard I tried? That wasn’t true. I could’ve.” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue. 

“And d’you remember when we met, when I told you Keeley told me to invite you out? That was a lie too.”

You tilt your head, confused. He keeps going. 

“Look- I fucked it. I fucked it a million times and I told Ted and I told Beard, but they kept helping me un-fuck it and giving me chances, and then Rebecca bought two tickets to Vienna and slipped me the other one, and they all told me I had a perfect shot.” 

You’re still not understanding what he’s saying. He might as well be speaking another language. Jamie sees the confusion in your eyes, takes a breath, and tries again. 

“Keeley told me to invite you out, but only because I’d seen you around and thought you were fit. Then Isaac and all the lads thought the same thing, so I didn’t even get to fuckin’ sit with you. And then you started sayin’ things about not bein’ ready for a relationship, so I tried to let it go. I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t. Your eyes are too sparkly and your laugh is too fucking cute and I couldn’t let it go, so I started eating lunch with you and you fucking let me. I knew the moment I said anything about liking you, it was over.”

Comprehension has started to dawn, but you push down hope until Jamie’s done speaking. 

“Everyone told me to shoot my shot in Vienna. We shared a bed, for fuck’s sake.” Here, Jamie looks bewildered. “But I dunno, I didn’t want to make shit weird. So when you asked if I liked anyone I said yeah, and started fuckin describing you, but you never fucking picked up on it. That’s when I got the idea to try one more time. All by meself, no help from anyone else. So…yeah.”

Jamie Tartt is standing on your porch confessing his love for you on Valentine’s Day and it is not a dream, because if it were your teeth would be falling out and his hair would probably be neon pink. 

“I’m an idiot,” you breathe. “You like me? Like, like-like me?”

Jamie quirks a smile at that. “Not quite, darling. Pretty fucking sure I love you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of scarlet red roses. The same from each gift. 

“Got these for you,” he says. “D’you know how hard it is to get red roses in February?”

You don’t answer him because you’re leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve thought about doing every day for what feels like forever. He’s kissing you back, hand with the flowers pressed against your back, other hand in your hair. 

“I love you too, Jamie,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles and pulls you in again. 

[sophie1973]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday everyone ! This week I was tagged by @onthewaytosomewhere @stellarmeadow @thighzp @suseagull04

and @blueeyedgrlwrites. Thank you and tagging you right back.

So this week I'm doing a little self-promo first with that little Birthday fic I wrote for my friend Kim and which can be read HERE. (Rivals football players Alex and Henry)

And second, here is a third snippet of my coming WIP 'Wait for me (to come home)'

Snippet and tags under the cut

As Alex approaches, Henry looks up. A becoming blush colors his cheeks, and his face lights up with a warm smile. "Dr. Claremont-Diaz! Good evening." "Please, call me Alex," he insists. "Dr. Claremont-Diaz is quite a mouthful." Henry chuckles softly. "You clearly haven't heard my full name."

Alex raises an eyebrow. "I thought it was Fox?" He's careful not to mention their gossip magazine research from the previous day. "Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, actually. And I'm sparing you the middle names," Henry explains with a self-deprecating smile. "By the way, I followed your advice. I had an excellent dinner. So, thank you." Alex feels a gentle pressure on his calf and looks down to see David pawing at his leg, seeking attention. "Hello, David," he coos, bending to pet the dog. "Just finished work?" Henry inquires. "Yes, I work late on Tuesdays and Fridays," Alex explains. "I was about to grab a quick dinner before heading home. Just wanted to say hello." As Alex prepares to return to the bar, Henry speaks up, his tone casual but tinged with hope. "Doctor... I mean, Alex. Would you care to join me? If you don't mind the company, that is." Something in Henry's eyes, a flicker of vulnerability beneath the polite smile, resonates with Alex. It's a loneliness he recognizes all too well, a feeling he's grappled with despite the loving presence of June and Nora.  He can’t ignore it. "I would love to," Alex says warmly. "I can't think of better company. I'm talking about David, obviously." "Obviously," Henry chuckles, relief crossing his eyes. Alex finds himself drawn to the way Henry's accent curls around the word, all posh vowels and crisp consonants.

Tagging with no pressure : @firenati0n @theprinceandagcd @piratefalls @bitbybitwrites

@whoevenknows-things @miharaikko @kj-bee @anincompletelist

@inexplicablymine @orchidscript @tailsbeth-writes @myheartalivewrites

@taste-thewaste @miss-minnelli @14carrotghoul @caterpills

@thesleepyskipper @iboatedhere

[fool-counter]

September first, 1989, dear diary...

I believe I'm a good person

You know, I think there's good in everyone, but here we are first day of senior year

I look around at these kids I've known all my life and

I ask myself: What happened?

(Freak! Slut! Burnout! Bug-Eyes! Poser! Lard Ass!)

We were so tiny, happy and shiny, playing tag and getting chased

(Freak! Slut! Loser! Sh—s!)

Singing and clapping

Laughing and napping

Baking cookies, eating paste

(Bull-d—! Stuck-up! Hunchback!)

Then we got bigger

That was the trigger

Like the Huns invading Rome

Sorry!

Welcome to my school

This ain't no high school

This is the Thunderdome

Hold your breath

And count the days

We're graduating soon

(White trash!)

College will be paradise

If I'm not dead by June!

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful

I pray, I pray for a better way

If we changed back then

We could change again

We can be beautiful

Ow!

Just not today

Hey, are you okay?

Get away, nerd

(Freak! Slut! Cr—le! Homo! Homo! Homo!)

Things will get better

Soon as my letter

Comes from Yale, or Duke, or Brown

Awake from this coma

Take my diploma

Then I can blow this town

Dream of ivy-covered walls

And smoky French cafes

(Watch it!)

Fight the urge to strike a match and send this dump ablaze!

Ooops

Ram Sweeney, third year as linebacker

And eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick!

What did you say to me skank?

Aaah, nothing!

But I know, I know, I know

Life can be beautiful

I pray, I pray

For a better way

We were kind before

We can be kind once more

We can be beautiful

Ah! Hey Martha

Hey

Martha Dumpstock

My best friend since diapers

Are we on for movie night?

Yeah, you're on Jiffy Pop detail

I rented The Princess Bride

Hohoho, again? Wait, don't you have it memorized right now?

What can I say? I'm a sucker for a happy ending

Martha Dumptruck! Wide load!

Kurt Kelly, quarterback, will receive a full scholarship from the University of "dude let's get wasted and light our farts on fire" he is the smartest guy on the football team

Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf

Hey! Pick that up right now!

I'm sorry, are you actually talking to me?

Yes, I am, I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend?

You're a high school has-been waiting to happen, a future gas station attendant

You got a zit right there

Dear Diary

(Why~)

Why do they hate me?

Why don't I fight back?

Why do I act like such a creep?

(Why~)

Why won't he date me?

Why did I hit him?

Why do I cry myself to sleep?

(Why~!)

Students

Somebody hug me!

Somebody fix me!

Somebody save me!

Send me a sign, God!

Give me some hope here!

Something to live for!

Ah! Heather, Heather, and Heather!

And then there's the Heathers, they float above it all

I love Heather, Heather, and Heather

Heather McNamara, head cheerleader, her dad is loaded, he sells engagement rings

I hate Heather, Heather, and Heather!

Heather Duke, runs the yearbook, no discernible personality,

But her mom did pay for implants

I want Heather, Heather, and Heather!

And Heather Chandler, the almighty

She is a mythic bitch

They are solid Teflon

Never bothered, never harassed

I would give anything to be like that

I'd like to be their boyfriend

That would be beautiful!

If I sat at their table, guys would notice me

So beautiful!

I'd like them to be nicer

That would be beautiful!

I'd like to kidnap a Heather and photograph her naked in an abandoned warehouse

And leave her tied up for the rats!

....That's not so beautiful!

Grow up, Heather, bulimia is so '87

Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather

Yeah, Heather, maybe I should

Ah, Heather and Heather and Heather

Perhaps you didn't hear the bell over all the vomiting

You're late for class

Heather wasn't feeling well, we're helping her

Not without a hall pass you're not. Week's detention

Actually, Miss Fleming, all four of us are out on a hall pass

Yearbook committee

I see you're all listed

Hurry up and get where you're going

This is an excellent forgery

Who are you?

Veronica Sawyer

I crave a boon

What boon?

Hm, let me sit at your table at lunch

Just once

No talking necessary

If people think you guys tolerate me, they'll leave me alone

Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes

How about prescriptions?

Shut up, Heather

Yeah! Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast, Heather?

Sorry, Heather

For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure

And a symmetrical face

If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull I'd have matching halves

That's very important

Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds

And you know, you know, you know?

This could be beautiful

Mascara, maybe some lip gloss

And we're on our way

Get this girl some blush

And Heather, I need your brush

Let's make her beautiful

Let's make her beautiful

Let's make her beautiful

Make her beautiful

Okay?

Okay!

Out of my way geek!

I don't want trouble

You're gonna die at 3PM!

Don't you dare touch me! Get away, pervert!

What'd I ever do to them?

Who could survive this?

I can't escape this!

I think I'm dying!

Who's that with Heather?

Whoa. Heather, Heather, Heather

And someone!

Heather, Heather, Heather

And a babe!

Heather, Heather, Heather

Veronica?!

Veronica, Veronica, Veronica

And you know

You know, you know

Life can be beautiful

You hope, you dream, you pray

And you get your way!

Ask me how it feels

Wearin' these rad ass heels!

My God, it's beautiful!

I might be beautiful

And when you're beautiful

It's a beautiful frickin' day!

Heather! Heather! Heather! Veronica!

Heather! Heather! Heather! Veronica! Veronica! Veronica! Veronica!

September first, 1989, dear diary...

I believe I'm a good person

You know, I think there's good in everyone, but here we are first day of senior year

I look around at these kids I've known all my life and

I ask myself: What happened?

(Freak! Slut! Burnout! Bug-Eyes! Poser! Lard Ass!)

We were so tiny, happy and shiny, playing tag and getting chased

(Freak! Slut! Loser! Sh—s!)

Singing and clapping

Laughing and napping

Baking cookies, eating paste

(Bull-d—! Stuck-up! Hunchback!)

Then we got bigger

That was the trigger

Like the Huns invading Rome

Sorry!

Welcome to my school

This ain't no high school

This is the Thunderdome

Hold your breath

And count the days

We're graduating soon

(White trash!)

College will be paradise

If I'm not dead by June!

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful

I pray, I pray for a better way

If we changed back then

We could change again

We can be beautiful

Ow!

Just not today

Hey, are you okay?

Get away, nerd

(Freak! Slut! Cr—le! Homo! Homo! Homo!)

Things will get better

Soon as my letter

Comes from Yale, or Duke, or Brown

Awake from this coma

Take my diploma

Then I can blow this town

Dream of ivy-covered walls

And smoky French cafes

(Watch it!)

Fight the urge to strike a match and send this dump ablaze!

Ooops

Ram Sweeney, third year as linebacker

And eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick!

What did you say to me skank?

Aaah, nothing!

But I know, I know, I know

Life can be beautiful

I pray, I pray

For a better way

We were kind before

We can be kind once more

We can be beautiful

Ah! Hey Martha

Hey

Martha Dumpstock

My best friend since diapers

Are we on for movie night?

Yeah, you're on Jiffy Pop detail

I rented The Princess Bride

Hohoho, again? Wait, don't you have it memorized right now?

What can I say? I'm a sucker for a happy ending

Martha Dumptruck! Wide load!

Kurt Kelly, quarterback, will receive a full scholarship from the University of "dude let's get wasted and light our farts on fire" he is the smartest guy on the football team

Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf

Hey! Pick that up right now!

I'm sorry, are you actually talking to me?

Yes, I am, I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend?

You're a high school has-been waiting to happen, a future gas station attendant

You got a zit right there

Dear Diary

(Why~)

Why do they hate me?

Why don't I fight back?

Why do I act like such a creep?

(Why~)

Why won't he date me?

Why did I hit him?

Why do I cry myself to sleep?

(Why~!)

Students

Somebody hug me!

Somebody fix me!

Somebody save me!

Send me a sign, God!

Give me some hope here!

Something to live for!

Ah! Heather, Heather, and Heather!

And then there's the Heathers, they float above it all

I love Heather, Heather, and Heather

Heather McNamara, head cheerleader, her dad is loaded, he sells engagement rings

I hate Heather, Heather, and Heather!

Heather Duke, runs the yearbook, no discernible personality,

But her mom did pay for implants

I want Heather, Heather, and Heather!

And Heather Chandler, the almighty

She is a mythic bitch

They are solid Teflon

Never bothered, never harassed

I would give anything to be like that

I'd like to be their boyfriend

That would be beautiful!

If I sat at their table, guys would notice me

So beautiful!

I'd like them to be nicer

That would be beautiful!

I'd like to kidnap a Heather and photograph her naked in an abandoned warehouse

And leave her tied up for the rats!

....That's not so beautiful!

Grow up, Heather, bulimia is so '87

Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather

Yeah, Heather, maybe I should

Ah, Heather and Heather and Heather

Perhaps you didn't hear the bell over all the vomiting

You're late for class

Heather wasn't feeling well, we're helping her

Not without a hall pass you're not. Week's detention

Actually, Miss Fleming, all four of us are out on a hall pass

Yearbook committee

I see you're all listed

Hurry up and get where you're going

This is an excellent forgery

Who are you?

Veronica Sawyer

I crave a boon

What boon?

Hm, let me sit at your table at lunch

Just once

No talking necessary

If people think you guys tolerate me, they'll leave me alone

Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes

How about prescriptions?

Shut up, Heather

Yeah! Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast, Heather?

Sorry, Heather

For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure

And a symmetrical face

If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull I'd have matching halves

That's very important

Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds

And you know, you know, you know?

This could be beautiful

Mascara, maybe some lip gloss

And we're on our way

Get this girl some blush

And Heather, I need your brush

Let's make her beautiful

Let's make her beautiful

Let's make her beautiful

Make her beautiful

Okay?

Okay!

Out of my way geek!

I don't want trouble

You're gonna die at 3PM!

Don't you dare touch me! Get away, pervert!

What'd I ever do to them?

Who could survive this?

I can't escape this!

I think I'm dying!

Who's that with Heather?

Whoa. Heather, Heather, Heather

And someone!

Heather, Heather, Heather

And a babe!

Heather, Heather, Heather

Veronica?!

Veronica, Veronica, Veronica

And you know

You know, you know

Life can be beautiful

You hope, you dream, you pray

And you get your way!

Ask me how it feels

Wearin' these rad ass heels!

My God, it's beautiful!

I might be beautiful

And when you're beautiful

It's a beautiful frickin' day!

Heather! Heather! Heather! Veronica!

Heather! Heather! Heather! Veronica! Veronica! Veronica! Veronica!

fool count: 36

beautiful... beautifool... it all starts to blend together after a while...

[so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed]

2023 writing self evaluation

I was tagged by the lovely @neondiamond, thank you!! I was also almost tagged by @lululawrence who texted me but I was already asleep lol.

1. List of works published this year:

In order of posting, these are the 17 fics I published:

April: saw some things on the other side [61K, Larry, written for @onedirectionbigbang]

May: (now I realize that the world outside) it's bigger than me [3,5K, written for @faithinthefutureficfest]

let's get naked and explore (our inner secrets) [8K, Zouis, written for @wankersday]

June: the missing piece that makes me fit [17K, Zouiam, written for @zouisfics]

we will get another day (to begin again) [1,8K, Ziam]

July: rain makes the flowers grow [1,1K, Larry, ficlet friday]

a life that's lived without you [1,1K, Ziam, ficlet friday]

August: and there's no one to blame [1,8K, Larry, ficlet friday]

You don't have to say "I love you", to say I love you [1,5K, ficlet friday]

I'm falling again [2,2K, Larry, ficlet friday]

like a moth into a flame [5,4K, Zouis, written for @wordplayfics]

September: I'll Run (Run to You) [1,1K, Larry, written for @wordplayfics]

like a bridge over troubled water (I will lay me down) [6,4K, written for @wordplayfics]

(don't you ever) hope for something else [5,4K, Ziam, written for @wordplayfics)

you try to stop it tumbling (but on and on it goes) [2,7K, Lirry, written for @wordplayfics]

October: when love gets involved [666, Larry, written for @1dtrickortreatfest]

find a way (to send me a sign) [666, Larry, written for @1dtrickortreatfest]

December: Santa Baby (one little thing I really need) [3K, Larry, written for @parmahamlarrie for the @1dcreatorclubhouse holiday exchange]

In total, including works that I haven't published yet, I've written 129.843 words in 2023.

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

I always really struggle with my Big Bang, and this year was no different. There was a lot of math involved, and a lot of schedules to make sure that the time travel all worked and the dates were accurate. I am really proud of how it turned out though, and the art (by the wonderful @monpetithl) is absolutely stunning.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

I suppose by default I'm 'least proud' of some fics, since I'm more proud of others, but in general, I'm very proud of everything I published this year.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

This is from (now I realize that the world outside) it's bigger than me

His throat feels dry and his face looks flushed, and there’s a moment where he contemplates dunking his head under the tap, but he doesn’t want to keep the fans waiting, even if he knows that his band is excellent at keeping the crowd entertained.

Or at least, they usually are. But right now, heading through the hallway back to the stage, all he can hear is silence.

Louis feels his heartbeat kick up a notch, and even though he knows that it’s ridiculous and highly implausible, there’s a brief moment where he wonders if everyone has just up and left. Maybe they’ve had enough. Maybe they only came here to see if he was willing to confirm the rumours, and now that he hasn’t, they’re leaving.

His palms are sweating, making him wipe them on his jeans, and it’s only when the band starts playing the intro to Bigger Than Me that they had come up with for the tour that Louis has the courage to step back onto the stage.

He has just opened his mouth for the first line – when somebody told me I would change – when it sinks in what he’s looking at.

Where the crowd is usually colourful, little rainbow flags showing up throughout the songs, or being held up en masse during a fan project for Only the Brave, it’s almost muted now, blacks and whites and greys.

And purple.

It is a sea of flags. A sea of ace flags.

Louis is vaguely aware that the band has started the intro for the third time. He can hear the cheers, the chants, can see the banners that are being held up by people on the balcony. We love you Louis, they read. We need you and you’ve got us.

His blood is rushing through his ears and he’s pretty sure he’s about two seconds from crying, and there is no way in hell that he’s going to be able to sing this song right now. It’s not even because it’s one of the harder songs in his set and he can feel his throat closing up. But he feels like he needs to acknowledge this. Because while he might not acknowledge it in the press, might play coy, these are his fans. These are the people that get him. The people that understand and support and love him, and they’re right. He’s got them. No matter what else, he’s got these people in his corner.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

So my favourite review wasn't actually written. It was a friend of mine, at the concert in Paris, locking eyes with me during Bigger Than Me, and the two of us sharing a moment because we knew.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Honestly, a lot of the year. I've written on something every month, but I've had months where I barely made 5K, if that. I've also had periods where my health was just utterly shit, and periods where I was too busy (like in November, which I mostly spent hanging out with the amazing @chaotic-bells)

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Well, it is written but not published, but something happened in my Big Bang for 2024 where I was like "really?? this is what you're going with??" and I guess you'll have to find that moment in my fic when it posts.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I'm honestly not sure I did, though I feel like I wrote a lot more short fics this year, so I suppose in that regard I grew by being able to write shorter things.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

I mostly just hope to continue being able to write, continue loving writing, because for a while this year I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue being a writer in this fandom. But I got lovingly told that there was no way I wasn't doing the Big Bang next year, and then I got matched up with an amazing artist (hiii @whatagreatproblemtohave!) so that definitely helped in getting my mojo back.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

I had wonderful guidance in the form of @londonfoginacup who told me a) you are not dropping out of the big bang and b) how about you rewrite the fic in Zayn's perspective, which has helped A LOT. I've also had an absolutely wonderful friend in @beardyboyzx who has read through a lot of my fics, has offered advice, a sounding board, and anything I could ask for. My beta, as always, is the wonderful @foullovehideout who is just the best person I could ask for. I had such a wonderful time seeing them again this year too.

And then there's the people that I've written with! Most notably, @jacaranda-bloom who is my standard writing buddy, though we've not been able to write together as often as last year, she's still helped me stay committed to my writing and I wouldn't have been able to publish as many fics if it weren't for our sprints.

Lastly, there's the beautiful people from the @1dcreatorclubhouse who have been just wonderful and a great source of joy and comfort.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Honestly it always does. Mostly this year in the aro/ace characters, because they are me and I am them.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

I don't think it's new, really, but a) write what you want to write and b) don't forget that writing is a muscle, it needs to be trained just like anything else. You can't expect the same ease that you felt while writing daily when you end up not having been able to write for a while. Give yourself grace, and above all, believe in yourself and the stories you want to tell. They'll be loved by so many people!

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

Definitely my Big Bang for 2024. It's a struggle and really outside of my wheelhouse, but I'm excited to see where it ends up going. I am also super intrigued by the possible 1daroacefest that @red-pandaaa was running a poll for (you can vote here) so depending on when it runs I definitely want to participate. And I'm thinking I might dabble in some F1 fic next year!

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

I am going to tag the wonderful @beardyboyzx because I need to read their answers. And I am tagging @voulezloux and @reminiscingintherain too!

[kiwiana-writes]

Which of your favourite books got bad adaptations? Do you feel Rwrb was a decent adaptation? How do you feel about the casting? What about a sequel? Hope it’s still honesty hour!

It's always honesty hour! A follow-up to this ask.

Answering the middle question first because I'm filled with chaos: I do think the RWRB film was overall a good adaption! There were parts of the book I missed desperately (June obviously, but also Liam and Raf my beloveds) and things about it that I would have preferred to be different, but I have criticisms of the book too which don't stop me loving it, and overall I really enjoyed the film. I thought the casting was fantastic, very impressed with TZP's ability to bring 'chaotic little shit' energy without actually being the short king of the book 🤣 and Nick did an excellent job with Henry. There's a lot going on in the book, and I do think streamlining it for a film was a smart move, even if it meant we lost some amazing stuff.

Regarding a sequel... I'd rather no sequel than a bad sequel, and while I trust Casey with their characters, approaching something film-first does wind up with a different structure to a novel that's turned into a film, the third-act misunderstandings that I hate, etc. I'd rather they wrote another book that could then get adapted, but I'm aware that's the most unlikely approach to be taken lol. Also, based on some of the reactions to Henry's bonus chapter, people get very attached to their post-canon headcanons and I feel like a sequel runs the risk of being divisive. Like, I want a sequel because I want more of Alex and Henry, but I would not enjoy all the Discourse™️ it would inspire.

Favourite books with bad adaptions! I'm still bitter over The Lovely Bones a decade and a half later, though not as much as My Sister's Keeper lol. The Dark Tower can get in the fucking bin. Sometimes I think about how desperately teenage MJ wanted an Artemis Fowl adaption and then we got... that. 11.22.63 was actually a decent miniseries but I hated it as an adaption of one of my favourite Stephen King books. I wanted to like Death on the Nile but holy FUCK. Fucking... Justice League I almost walked out of the cinema. There are probably more that are fully blocked from my memory lmao.

[Honesty hour, ask me anything!]

*I realise opinions on the film and on the bonus chapter differ from mine. I respect those opinions, I will defend to the death your right to hold them, but I also, in the most respectful possible way, don't care and have no interest in debating them. I say this with all the love in the world, but also a desire to protect my peace.

[dreamsanddrabbles36]

Itachi Birthday Story ( Fem Reader X Itachi)

Here is a small story for Itachi's birthday. I hope you enjoy. Itachi and Sasuke deserved so much better..

You were a Jonin ranked shinobi from Konoha and you were taking a break from the shinobi life. Or at least that is what you told everyone. You told them that you were taking some time off to go see family in other villages. Which wasn't totally a lie. Your father was from another village, and had family up in the north . You were leaving Konoha. As of late you had felt a heavy shift in Konoha, and you only stayed for one reason.

Itachi had asked you too. You were Itachi's eyes in the village, and would send him messages every so often. You wrote to Itachi telling him of what was happening with the village, and what Sasuke was doing in his current time with Team 7. Because of that Itachi knew Sasuke was on a team with Naruto, and Sakura Haruno. Itachi was also aware that Kakashi Hatake was Sasuke's sensei. But now you felt like your time in the village was over. You loved Konoha with all of your heart. You were born , and raised in this village. Even after the death of the Third Hokage your trust in your goverment had started to wane. The atmosphere in the village had become heavy. Itachi had asked you to stay up until Sasuke left to find his brother. And you had. After Lady Tsundae's coronation as Hokage , Sasuke had left the village. You didn't tell anyone where you were going. In fact you hadn't for the last two years. When not on missions you and Itachi met up at least once a month. Itachi would summon you, and you both met up. But after several discussions it was your choice to follow your heart. Of course Itachi tried to talk you out of it. But you were firm in your choice. It wasn't that Itachi didn't trust your skills. As long as Itachi knew you he knew you were a excellent shinobi. But Itachi had many enemies that could do serious harm to you. Even so you didn't falter.

<> <> <> <> <> <> <> <><><><><><><><><><><><><><<><><><><><><><><>

It was June 9th when you left the village. You remembered it was also Itachi's birthday. Even when he didn't seem to care for his own birthday. You still remembered. When you left it was night with a dark inky sky filled with stars, and a half moon. You walked through the village only stopping to get a small present for Itachi. You quickly left before anyone noticed you, and you headed towards the path going towards the only entrances and exit to the village. You didn't look back as you passed through the gates leading out of Konoha you were met by a loud call of a crow. A crow sat in one of the trees outside the gate. Your large black bird escort flew off its perch, and into the sky leading you to where you would meet Itachi. Even now Itachi was cautious knowing the life you had chosen to be with him. The life of a rouge wasn't going to be easy. You knew many would call you a traitor to the village. Continuing through the dead of night the crow you were following stopped flying into a tree. You found Itachi standing on the edge of the cliff that over looked the village. You didn't need to say anything as you approched him. Once you both were standing side by side did Itachi finally say something. " Are you sure ? " Itachi asked something you had heard several times after you asked him to come with him. " Yes." You answer. You feel a arm pull you towards Itachi as you both continue to look down at the village. It could be the last time that you ever saw Konoha, but it was important that you left. You knew Itachi didn't have long in this world, and you knew that your time together would be short. But you still loved him, and wanted to be there with him until that day came. Seeing you were still serious you both stepped away from the over view of the village. But you don't go very far as you both find a place to sit down. Itachi had already traveled a good distance to come and get you. And it was a good time for you to give him your present. " You didn't have to get me anything.. I have what I need now." Itachi told you . " Then I might have to eat these without you. " you tease Itachi as you take out a package of dango you had picked up earlier. You giggled until you felt a tap on your head when you looke back at Itachi. Finally you both share Itachi's birthday treat. You both are smiling at one another and Itachi kisses you forehead. " Come . We have much to do. Once that is done we can celebrate. " Itachi tells you taking your hand leading you into the night leaving Konoha behind. You both travel until you come upon a small village and stop at the inn to rest for the night. It also gave you, and Itachi a chance to have a meal, and Itachi's birthday dangos you had gotten him in Konoha. In exchange Itachi also gave you a gift. Something that would symoblize to those around you that you were Itachi's now, and forever. It was dangerous for you to be wearing a Uchiha crest, but Itachi had gotten you a necklace with a gem that was half red, and half white. " Will you be mine forever ? " Itachi asked. " Yes.' You answer holding the necklace in your hands before he took it from you, and placed it around your neck. " I love you. " you said to Itachi " And I love you. I may not always show it but know I'll always love you ." Itachi answered you as you both fall into a kiss. You felt Itachi pick you up and carry you to the futon waiting for the both of you. " Ready ?" Itachi asked you. " Yes." you answered. " Itachi.. " " Hm ? " Itachi questions. " Thank you for being born today." you say as he kisses you again celebrating your union.

<> <> <> <> <> <> <> <><><><><><><><><><><><><><<><><><><><><><><>

[imrainfully]

(Beautiful -Heathers)

September 1st, 1989

Dear Diary: I believe I'm a good person

You know, I think there's good in everyone, but here we are first day of senior year

I look around at these kids I've known all my life and

I ask myself: What happened?

(Freak! Slut! Burnout! Bug-Eyes! Poser! Lard Ass!)

We were so tiny, happy and shiny, playing tag and getting chased

(Freak! Slut! Loser! Shortbus!)

Singing and clapping

Laughing and napping

Baking cookies, eating paste

(Bull-dyke! Stuck-up! Hunchback!)

Then we got bigger

That was the trigger

Like the Huns invading Rome

Sorry!

Welcome to my school

This ain't no high school

This is the Thunderdome

Hold your breath

And count the days

We're graduating soon

(White trash!)

College will be paradise

If I'm not dead by June!

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful

I pray, I pray for a better way

If we changed back then

We could change again

We can be beautiful

Ow!

Just not today

Hey, are you okay?

Get away, nerd

(Freak! Slut! Cripple! Homo! Homo! Homo!)

Things will get better

Soon as my letter

Comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown

Awake from this coma

Take my diploma

Then I can blow this town

Dream of ivy-covered walls

And smoky French cafes

(Watch it!)

Fight the urge to strike a match and send this dump ablaze!

Ooops

Ram Sweeney, third year as linebacker

And eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick!

What did you say to me skank?

Aaah, nothing!

But I know, I know, I know

Life can be beautiful

I pray, I pray

For a better way

We were kind before

We can be kind once more

We can be beautiful

Ah! Hey Martha

Hey

Martha Dumpstock

My best friend since diapers

Are we on for movie night?

Yeah, you're on Jiffy Pop detail

I rented The Princess Bride

Hohoho, again? Wait, don't you have it memorized right now?

What can I say? I'm a sucker for a happy ending

Martha Dumptruck! Wide load!

Kurt Kelly, quarterback, he is the smartest guy on the football team

Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf

Hey! Pick that up right now!

I'm sorry, are you actually talking to me?

Yes, I am, I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend?

You're a high school has-been waiting to happen, a future gas station attendant

You got a zit right there

Dear Diary

(Why~)

Why do they hate me?

Why don't I fight back?

Why do I act like such a creep?

(Why~)

Why won't he date me?

Why did I hit him?

Why do I cry myself to sleep?

(Why~!)

Students

Somebody hug me!

Somebody fix me!

Somebody save me!

Send me a sign, God!

Give me some hope here!

Something to live for!

Ah! Heather, Heather, and Heather!

And then there's the Heathers, they float above it all

I love Heather, Heather, and Heather

Heather McNamara, head cheerleader, her dad is loaded, he sells engagement rings

I hate Heather, Heather, and Heather!

Heather Duke, runs the yearbook, no discernible personality

But her mom did pay for implants

I want Heather, Heather, and Heather!

And Heather Chandler, the almighty

She is a mythic bitch

They are solid Teflon

Never bothered, never harassed

I would give anything to be like that

I'd like to be their boyfriend

That would be beautiful

If I sat at their table, guys would notice me

So beautiful

I'd like them to be nicer

That would be beautiful

I'd like to kidnap a Heather and photograph her naked in an abandoned warehouse

And leave her tied up for the rats!

Grow up, Heather, bulimia is so '87

Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather

Yeah, Heather, maybe I should

Ah, Heather and Heather and Heather

Perhaps you didn't hear the bell over all the vomiting

You're late for class

Heather wasn't feeling well, we're helping her

Not without a hall pass you're not. Week's detention

Actually, Miss Fleming, all four of us are out on a hall pass

Yearbook committee

I see you're all listed

Hurry up and get where you're going

This is an excellent forgery

Who are you?

Veronica Sawyer

I crave a boon

What boon?

Hm, let me sit at your table at lunch

Just once

No talking necessary

If people think you guys tolerate me, they'll leave me alone

Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes

How about prescriptions?

Shut up, Heather

Sorry, Heather

For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure

And a symmetrical face

If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull I'd have matching halves

That's very important

Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds

And you know, you know, you know?

This could be beautiful

Mascara, maybe some lip gloss

And we're on our way

Get this girl some blush

And Heather, I need your brush

Let's make her beautiful

Let's make her beautiful

Let's make her beautiful

Make her beautiful

Okay?

Okay!

Out of my way geek!

I don't want trouble

You're gonna die at 3PM!

Don't you dare touch me! Get away, pervert!

What'd I ever do to them?

Who could survive this?

I can't escape this!

I think I'm dying!

Who's that with Heather?

Whoa. Heather, Heather, Heather

And someone!

Heather, Heather, Heather

And a babe!

Heather, Heather, Heather

Veronica?!

Veronica, Veronica, Veronica

And you know

You know, you know

Life can be beautiful

You hope, you dream, you pray

And you get your way!

Ask me how it feels

Looking like hell on wheels

My God, it's beautiful!

I might be beautiful

And when you're beautiful

It's a beautiful frickin' day!

Heather! Heather! Heather! Veronica!

Heather! Heather! Heather! Veronica! Veronica! Veronica! Veronica!

[alyjojo]

Love Reading 💐- June 2023 - Gemini

Singles:

Overall energy: The Tower

How you will meet: Page of Pentacles

How they will treat you: Queen of Wands

Long-term Potential: 9 Cups rev

Oracle: Zen as Fuck. Raise the vibe, one breath at a time.

This is like a third party, but not. It’s definitely a rebound, you could meet them at work right at the end of something else. It’s like you’re feeling heavy & burdened that something didn’t work out, when this person hits you like a train you don’t see coming. They’re a friend, possibly a coworker, someone who has been sitting on the sidelines waiting for you to be single, so they can build 10 Pentacles with you. They immediately go there. Ace, 9, 10, let me just get Gemini alone and I’m gonna lock them down for good 😍 You probably love their confidence.

They show up as Queen of Wands, could be a fire sign, they’ve got HEAT 🔥 intensity, either they’re very attractive or they find you very attractive, they treat you like your bedroom is a game they’re going to win. If they know you’re fresh out of something, there’s definitely a vibe here of showing you they’re way better at this than your ex 😆 Whether they are, idk they think so. Big ego 💯 They want to impress you, and it almost turns them on that they have to compete with someone else in order to do it. Could definitely have some Aries energy. Long term though…I don’t see it. The flame will die out eventually, this is built on lust, and the other person is gonna find another person per their messages. There’s a lot of sexual obsession between the two of you, but that’s it, and one of you is realizing they’ve gotten what they wanted, but it’s not really what they want after all. It’s hot while it lasts.

Messages -

Their side:

- LESSON 💯

- No Hard Feelings

- There was someone else.

- Leave them on READ

Your side:

- Excellent Cook 🥘

- Quick Fling

- I love to surprise you.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Virgo, Aries, Leo & Pisces

Couples:

Overall energy: Queen of Cups

Current: King of Cups

Challenge: 7 Pentacles

How they feel about you: 5 Cups

How you feel about them: 6 Wands

Outcome: 6 Pentacles

Your person comes up as Queen of Cups, you come out as the King, a divine pair, but for some reason this person is being hurtful towards you 😣 They’ve said or have done something that’s completely rocked your entire world, it feels like ten knives in the back, possibly ending the relationship quite suddenly. The challenge is giving something time, waiting for money or something to come through because of this situation, saving up may be necessary. It seems like you guys are splitting up, and you’re having to find somewhere else to live. But that doesn’t happen overnight, so this is like a “getting along enough to coexist” kind of energy in your challenge. You’re probably hoping that with time they’ll cool off, and you can keep the relationship as it is, because either this IS your divine partner or you truly believe that it is, so wtf mate?

I’m getting a lot of ego off of this person, and you’re aware of it, because you see them as victorious, celebrating, parading around that they’ve gotten their way or proven some point, and you’re not even trying to fight them about it or something, you’re just waiting. They see you as sad & disappointed that you have to find someone else to love, somewhere else to move. Their Oracle card shows them feeling that you’re toxic. Their messages show them being toxic. No tarot card here actually indicates that anyone is toxic so I’m having a hard time with this own. They’re projecting onto you. They enjoy your misery, it’s fkd up, but I’m not seeing what you’ve done at all. If anything, your own messages show you maybe being a complainer or pessimistic, but a really sweet person otherwise. Outcome for this month, either this person starts being nice, slowly works towards being passionate/flirty again, and then wanting to work it out altogether…or they’re willing to give you money or work with you in some way to help you find something else. How gracious. I like the first Oracle best, fk this shit ❤️

Messages -

Their side:

- Don’t underestimate my potential.

- Spiritually Dead Inside ☠️

Your side:

- I want to grow with you 🌸

- Gorgeous

Oracles -

Seeking Cosmic Consciousness

A wise woman once said “Fuck this shit.” And she lived happily ever after.

Their side: Even if dark-souled entities are in your own family, know that you can divorce yourself from them.

Your side: Try to go one day without complaining, and only affirm the positive.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Everything but air. Scorpio & earth heavy

[quietlyimplode]

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist of Fic Recs - Version 2.0 - Page 5

 Page 1 / Page 2 / Page 3 / Page 4 / Page 5

Updated June 2021

This is not an exhaustive list (and in no order whatsoever) of the brilliant fic that is out there. Please let me know of any i have missed or any recs to put in and I will endevour to add it. I have not included warnings or ratings. Please make sure you look at the tags, judge for yourself and as always take care of yourself first. (19 authors under the cut)

edeabeth

Clairvoyant- tony/Nat - Natasha gets deaged, tony helps her back.  1/1

Russian Winter - Clint/Nat - after a mission in Russia, Clint helps out Nat back together again. 1/1

Intervention - Nat/team - nothing triggers her; she’s just triggered. 1/1

crash and tremble - Natasha/team. Natasha comes back from the red room worse for wear. The team takes over. And also gets her a dog.  1/1

Crash and begin - sequel to above. 1/1

igrockspock

Introduction to Western Literature - Clint/Nat/Maria - in the beginning Natasha only had books in common - 1/1

The time machine - Natasha/Clint - time machine sends them back to the red room - 1/1

Junk food and dirty socks - Clint/Nat - how they show their love - 1/1

Congratulations on an Excellent Kill - Nat/Clint - Natasha navigates gift giving - 1/1

Six Cities that are not Budapest - clint/Nat - what do normal people do on vacation?- 2/2

CaraLee

silver arrow - clint/Nat - after the winter soldier Natasha hopes everything is not a lie.   2/2

Bettybackintheday @bettybackintheday 

until my casket drops - Nat/Clint- Natasha wakes up in hospital -1/1

All in the family - Barton family - 1/1

Aliceinchainmail

confirmed mutual admission - Clint/Nat - you can’t take the Russian out of Nat but you can take her somewhere safe. 1/1

wewillalwaysenduphere

two weapons - Clint saved Natasha when given the orders to kill her. This is them, getting to know each other. This is Natasha, discovering her humanity. 1/1

atraphoenix/calloftherunningtide

of spectrums and spoons. Natasha - Natasha has autism. The team figures it out - 1/1

Waldorph

fubar- Clint/Nat - after the avengers, Natasha takes Clint to Russia. 1/1

RED - Natasha - this is what she remembers. It’s not enough. 1/1

Queenriley

of languages - clint/Nat/team - Natasha and Clint speak all the languages. The team tries to figure it out. 

Unconventional lullaby - team - orphans and family dynamics, clint is having a hard time.  1/1

A place to be safe - team - Five lonely, broken people have five lonely, broken beginnings.   1/1

hazellazer

movie night - team/Clint/Nat - tony keeps inviting them for movie nights, it must be nice to have free time.  1/1

Chess Pieces (or five times Clint and Natasha didn’t sleep together and the first time they did) - Clint/Nat - Clint Barton trusts Natalia Romanova, even when he probably shouldn’t.  6/6

Fearful Passage - Clint/Nat- mission - things go from bad to worse.  3/3

Frances

Five Times Natasha Throws Up On One Of Her Teammates - team - And one time she doesn’t. 5 + 1 -  6/6

But Not Worth Writing Down - team - Of lessons in humanity, the wisdom of drunkards, the people that keep you whole and finally having that chat with your partner. Sort of. -  1/1

persiflet/anonymous

problem solving - team - when shield goes down, pepper is there to pick up the pieces -1/1

Trojie

Homecomings - team - team as family. Coming home. 1/1

Leverage - clint/Nat - they’ve been stood down, they need to make their own fun (if you know what I mean). 1/1

Sarea Okelani (sarea)

chasing the light - Clint/Nat - a mission goes awry, they’re still spies but they have to pick up the pieces -  4/4

Geckoholic @lostemotion

dropping glasses just to hear them break- Clint/Nat- Clint is supposed to bring in the black widow. A third party intervenes and Clint needs help. 1/1

Stay away from the sun - Clint/Nat - they know who the are/were. 1/1

With her there comes a hunger - Clint/Nat- Natasha’s been anxious to try this out a better way, with less desperation and uncertainty and worry. Less of the whispered voice in the back of her head telling her that she’s reviling in hurting the man she loves and shouldn’t be allowed near him ever again. 1/1

All your worries spent - Clint/Nat - kink and handcuffs - 1/1

The opposite of falling (sequel to above) - the come down is worse than the highs and lows. 1/1

The company you keep - Clint/Nat -Clint and Natasha get to know each other in the biblical sense the first time they meet and don’t catch feelings until later. 1/1

VictoryCandescence

shades - Nat/bruce - the mental manipulation and sterilisation of Natasha - 1/1

Kali588  @itsnotokbutwereallright

me too - marvel ladies - #metoo 1/1

Darkest Secrets - Clint/Nat -  things you said when I was crying and you made me feel like shit. 1/1

Its always a test - Clint/Nat - Natasha is cleared for missions but isn’t on Clint’s team.  1/1

Does Pizza have healing properties - Clint/Nat/Kate - Clint Loses his memory, the whole team is there. 16/16

RougeTwelve

Stay with me - Nat/Steve - secrets that Natasha had never intended to reveal were ripped to the surface without her consent 4/4

EppyWeppy

Together again - Natasha/team - Natasha gets captured on the raft by Ross. It brings the team back together. 14/14

CarlyWrites - @natandwandaseries

Rec ced - Natasha and Wanda Series - Nat & Wanda / Clint & Wanda

[booksrbetterthanpeople]

The Primaries: Beautiful

Adrien: September 1st, 1989. Dear Diary:

I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of Senior year! And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known since I got here, and I ask myself—what happened? Students: Freak! Liar! Burnout! Moron! Poser! Dumbass!

Adrien: We were so tiny, happy and shiny! Playing tag, and getting chased! Students: Bitch! Jerk! Liar! Bullies! Adrien: Singing and clapping, laughing and napping! Baking cookies, eating paste! Students: Blowhard! Stuck-up! Tabloid! Adrien: Then we got bigger, that was the trigger Like the Huns invading Rome! Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school: This is the Thunderdome! Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon! Students: White trash! Adrien: Next year will be paradise, if I'm not dead by June!... But I know, I know, life can be beautiful I pray, I pray for a better way If we changed back then, we could change again. We can be beautiful...

*Alya trips Aurore* 

Aurore: Hey! Adrien: Just not today. *He goes to help her up* Hey, are you okay? Aurore: *She smacks his hand away* Don’t talk to me. Adrien: Oh, okay Students: Jerk! Liar! Poser! Doormat! Doormat! Doormat! Adrien: Things will get better soon as my letter Comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown Wake from this coma, take my diploma Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls and smoky French cafés Lila: Watch it! Adrien: Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze! *Lila smacks Mireille’s lunch tray out of her hands*

Lila: Oops. Adrien: Lila Rossi. Third year as an Agreste Model, and tenth year of smacking lunch trays and being a lying bitch! Lila: Do you want me to tell your dad what you just said? Adrien: ... Shut up, Lila. But I know, I know... (I know, I know...) Life can be beautiful (Beautiful) I pray, I pray (I pray, I pray) For a better way (For a better way) We were kind before; (Ooh...) We can be kind once more (Ooh...) We can be beautiful... (Ooh... Beautiful...) *Nino taps on his shoulder*

Adrien: Ah!... Hey Nino. Nino: Hey! Adrien: Nino Lahiffe. My best friend since I started this school. Nino: We still on for movie night? Adrien: Yeah, you're on Jiffy Pop detail. Nino: I rented "Jurassic Park." Adrien: Again? Wait, don't you have it memorized by now? Nino: What can I say? I'm a sucker for a good Spielberg movie. Alya: Nino! You can’t go to movie night; I need your help with the Ladyblog. Adrien: Alya Ceasaire: Blogger. She is always jumping to conclusions. It often leads to trouble. Lila: Oh! Then that means you’re free tonight, Adrien! Adrien: No! Nino and I are having movie night! Work on the Ladyblog another time. Lila: I'm sorry, are you actually standing up to me? Adrien: Yes, I am! I wanna know what gives you the right to act like a high and mighty control freak. You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future cocktail waitress!... Jean: Wow, Adrien! Your balls finally dropped. Congrats.

*The students laugh while Adrien blushes from embarrassment*

Adrien: Dear diary: Why... Myléne: Why do they hate us? Mireille: Why don't I fight back?

Marc: Why are they such creeps? Adrien: Why... Lila: Why won't he date me? Kim: Why did I hit him? Juleka/Mme. Bustier/Nino: Why do I cry myself to sleep? Adrien: Why... Students: Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope, here! Something to live for!

... Students: Ah! Nathan, Chloé, and Mari...

Adrien: And then there's the Primaries. They float above it all... Students: I love Nathan, Chloé, and Mari... I hate Nathan, Chloé, and Mari... Adrien: Nathaniel Kurtzberg, president of the art club. His family is dangerous—they’re the Jewish mafia.

Students: I want Nathan, Chloé, and Mari...

Adrien: Chloé Bourgeois, my sort of best friend. Her dad runs the city. No discernible personality, but her mom did pay for hair extensions. Students: I need Nathan, Chloé, and Mari... Adrien: And Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the Almighty... She has connections all over the world. They’re solid Teflon—never bothered, never harassed even though they’re in my class... I would give anything to be like that. Aurore: I'd like to be their girlfriend. Students: That would be beautiful... Sabrina: If I sat at their table, guys would notice me. Students: So beautiful... Ooh... Nino: I'd like them to be nicer. Students: That would be beautiful... Ooh... Lila: I'd like to kidnap a Primary and photograph them naked in an abandoned warehouse and leave them tied up for the rats.

*Cut to the Primaries in the locker room* Marinette: And after we take down that tabloid blog, we-

Mme. Bustier: *She walks in* Ah, Marinette, Nathaniel, and Chloé. Perhaps you didn't hear the bell. You're late for class. Marinette: Oh, yes. It’d be a shame if we were late to a class that had us read fairytales about princes kissing princesses to break spells. Ever heard of Edgar Allen Poe? *Chloé and Nathaniel snicker*

Mme. Bustier: *Sputters* Week's detention!

Adrien: Um, actually, Mme. Bustier, all four of us are out on a hall pass. Yearbook committee *He shows her the fake hall pass* Mme. Bustier: ...I see you're all listed. Hurry up and get where you're going. *She leaves*  Marinette: *She takes the forged note and examines it* This is an excellent forgery, Agreste. I didn’t know you had it in you. Adrien: Thanks... I crave a boon Marinette: What boon? Adrien: Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. Just once. No talking necessary. If the others think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone... *They laugh* Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips, and absence notes- Nathaniel: How about prescriptions? Chloe: Shut it, Nath. Nathaniel: You shut it. Marinette: ... You know, for a tall, lanky nobody whose father puts him on a strict diet and trims away body fat so you look like a twig in your shitty fashion magazines... You do have good bone structure. Nathaniel: And a symmetrical face. If I took a switchblade down the center of your skull, I'd have matching halves. That's very important. Chloé: Of course, you could stand to gain a few pounds. Marinette: And ya know, ya know, ya know? This could be beautiful. Some new clothes, brush his hair out. And we're on our way. Get this boy some blush; And Chloé, I need your brush Let's make him beautiful. Nathaniel: Let's make him beautiful... Chloé: Let's make him beautiful... Marinette: Make him beautiful... Okay? Adrien: Okay! *The next day*

Lila: Out of my way, bitch! Aurore: Why don’t you get bent?! Mireille: Your class will die at 3 pm! Marc/Jean: Don't you dare touch me! Get away, assholes! Alix/Kim: What did we ever do to them? Students: Who could survive this? I can't escape this! I think I'm dying! Juleka: Who's that with Mari? Students: Whoa... Nathan, Chloé, Mari... Aurore/Mireille/Marc: And someone! Students: Nathan, Chloé, Mari... Lila: And a babe! Students: Nathan, Chloé, Mari... Nino: Adrien?! Students: Adrien? Adrien? Adrien?! Adrien: And you know, you know, you know Life can be beautiful You hope, you dream, you pray And you get your way! Ask me how it feels! Lookin' like hell on wheels... My God, it's beautiful! I might be beautiful... And when you're beautiful... It's a beautiful frickin' day! Students: Nathan! Chloé! Mari! Adrien! Nathan! Chloé! Mari! Adrien! Adrien! Adrien! Adrien! Adrien! 

[beinmybonnet]

29th June 1613 - London, England

   “Remind me again why we’re doing this?

“He went to the trouble to have a draft carried all the way to Brandenburg for me, the least I can do is attend the opening night.”

Andromache rolls her shoulders into her partlet. “The least you can do maybe. Why am I doing this?”

“Because you missed me. And because you cried when we saw Othello.” Yusuf replies, looking sideways at her. Curbing the inevitable objection, Quynh squeezes Nicolò’s arm and strides forwards to overtake them. He lets himself be dragged after her, taking care not to tread on her skirts.

“I love the theatre. Plus, we’ve spent the last week sleeping in a shack in the Dales. This,” Quynh waves her free arm over the bridge rail, “is a nice change of scenery.”

London Bridge is teeming with people, the warmth of the bustle settling like cinders into his skin. The city writhes in its haste. Against the far bank of the Thames tall buildings strike against the horizon, the old Southwark Priory still reaching high in spent pride. Buildings are painted pale with dark beams striking bold across them. It is beautiful in its own way, Nicolò thinks. Inelegant, but unique.

“It wasn’t that bad. I still think we should have stayed a little longer, at least until-

“Andromache we’ve slept in nicer caves.”

Quynh glances back over her shoulder meaningfully, brow rising. Andromache shrugs. A smile, although few would recognise it. They step down onto the riverbank as one, turning east.

Nicolò nudges his shoulder into Yusuf as they pass the gardens. “You fail to mention you sent that script back with corrections.”

“Revisions. Small ones.” Yusuf’s voice is low, his expression impish. “Barely noticeable.”

                                                         *

“Ah, here we are.” Yusuf waves Andromache forward into their usual first-floor booth and steps back to allow Quynh to pass. Nicolò pauses, peering up the stairwell.

“Full house.”

“First performance. Trust me, this will be one to remember.” Yusuf is bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, and it makes Nicolò want to tuck his chin over a bobbing shoulder.

“You’d think the city would be a bit more subdued,” Andromache settles herself on the bench tucking thick plum skirts around her calves. She happily accepts a bag of roasted hazelnuts from Yusuf as he passes her to stand at the balcony. “They’ve only just recovered from their last bout of plague.”

“Exactly! This is the power of art.” Yusuf beams, arm sweeping wide. “Look at these people.” All around them the crowd is seething with anticipation, the noise growing as the wait goes on. Children scramble in the lower level of the yard for better vantage points, clawing their way up the beams supporting the lower galleries. People are shouting and laughing and drinking, the sound cocooned tight within the impressive structure. A man swings a laughing boy up over the mass, and a small group of women pressed against the stage begin shouting a suspicious sounding rhyme, pointing across the pit. Before they can finish a man in the gallery beneath them roars his response across the yard.

Nicolò’s brow furrows. “Clot-pole? I don’t…”

“She’s calling him an idiot,” Andromache supplies, “and insulting his hat.”

“It is a bit much.” Quynh’s leaning over the balcony to get a better look. “I think she’s accusing him of, err – short-changing her. Last night.”

Still grinning, Yusuf peers over beside her. “Oh, she’s quite angry. Here we go.” He sounds delighted. What looks like a parsnip sails over the head of the crowd. “A pity, she’ll want those for the third act.”

Quynh’s now bent almost double over the bannister and Andromache reaches to steady her without looking. “Isn’t this sort of thing that made the man move half of the troupe over to Blackfriars?”

Yusuf shakes his head in fond exasperation. “Ah, William has become far too prudish in his success. The engagement of the audience is the nature of theatre.”

“Engagement?” Nicolò smirks as something below meets its mark with a splat and a shout.

“Well, you cannot deny their enthusiasm-”

Quynh reappears with a whoop of triumph clutching her prize; a browning cabbage intercepted in the air. She rotates the rotten vegetable in careful examination. “Excellent.”

Yusuf raises his hand in hopeless protest as Nicolò leans back in his seat, eyeing Quynh. “10 crowns says you can’t hit the stage from here.”

She snorts derisively.

“20 if you can take King Henry off his feet.” Andromache counters, rising slightly to gauge the distance. Done, Quynh agrees happily, settling beside her and tucking her cabbage under the bench. Yusuf mutters an exasperated appeal for help to the heavens and Nicolò quickly tugs him down into the remaining space with a hand over his knee.

The parting of the stage curtain prompts the dropping of remaining projectiles and an enthusiastic cheer from the crowd. The herald clears his throat, steps to the edge of the stage and spreads his arms.

The first and happiest hearers of the town,

I come no more to make you laugh; things now,

That bear a weighty and a serious brow,

Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,

Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,

We now present. Those that can pity, here

May, if they think it well, let fall a tear;

Be sad, as we would make ye

“Oh, so a comedy?” Quynh says brightly and Yusuf shushes her.

The first actors emerge from the wings in their velvets and the tale takes flight.

                                                                                                                                                                    *

In all this noble bevy, has brought with her

One care abroad; he would have all as merry

As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome,

Can make good people. O, my lord, you're tardy:

Yusuf is mouthing the words soundlessly, engrossed.

There are many things Nicolò has enjoyed about visiting theatres over the years. He will readily admit this performance is an enjoyable one - the young man playing Buckingham is particularly charismatic, the audience viscerally immersed in his indignation. The actors proudly deliver their lines and their story to an increasingly hypnotised audience.  

But the play itself has never been what really draws Nicolò to this place. He glances sideways again and immediately, expectedly, loses the thread of the plot. In this moment the talent on the stage could never hope to hold his interest as he sits beside this man. Yusuf has lost himself entirely to the unfolding tale, gaze flitting from figure to figure calling below. Passion alight in his eyes. The arts do this to him in a way Nicolò has seen nothing else in all their time together. They have walked familiar paths in gallery halls for hours on end, Yusuf’s eyes roving walls of painted expression. They’ve sat in houses of the dying and listened to children bringing comfort with songs of naivety. Literature, dance, poetry, music; in all their changing forms they have always arrested Yusuf in his entirety.

These things give people freedom Nicolò, true freedom, he had once said. Free of limitation and expectation, in art people reveal their true selves. It is beautiful.

For Nicolò, that beauty is reflected blindingly in Yusuf’s own experience. To watch him like this for the rest of his given days would see him depart this earth achingly grateful to his God.

But Yusuf feels his distraction and leans toward him. “You’re missing it,” he murmurs, smile pulling impossibly wider. Unbridled delight is etched at the edges of his eyes, and Nicolò wants to trace his fingertips over the creases. He only realises he has reached out and done so when Yusuf captures and kisses his palm. “Watch the play.”

“It is a story still within living memory, I know how it ends,” Nicolò whispers.

Yusuf will not have it, nodding towards the actors. “Watch them tell it.”

Anne Boleyn is drifting across the stage, hand at her chest and Nicolò turns dutifully back to the performance.

Was he mad, sir?

O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too:

But he would bite none; just as I do now,

He would kiss you twenty with a breath.

This time it’s Yusuf’s eyes that flicker back towards him and Nicolò hears silent words in the curl of his lip. Twenty kisses in a single breath. A risky venture, no?

Nicolò hums, his thoughts mirrored beside him. We shall see.

                                                                                                                      *

Good lord chamberlain,

Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue;

And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em

Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty

Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.

You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.

A good digestion to you all: and once more

I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all!

King Henry VIII emerges from the curtains with a flourish, the actor clearly taking great pains not to stumble in breeches that billow around his knees. The theatre bursts into applause as a round of trumpets sound, and they shout their approval at the blast of a canon from the rafters. The actors move to their marks to begin the scene in earnest, and Andromache leans forward with interest for the first time.

“See, I told you! With the funding now available, they’ve really spared no expense,” Yusuf is still clapping. Andromache hums noncommittally sitting back, but her eyes are suddenly bright with curiosity.

“Quynh, if you’re going to win your money, I suggest you do it now.”

“Why? I was going to wait until the trial scene,” she replies, confused.

From his place beside her Nicolò can see clearly that Andromache is struggling to suppress a smirk. “Well, there won’t be much left by then.”

“What?” Quynh looks down the bench at him. He shrugs. Andromache sighs around her growing amusement.

Seconds pass before she speaks again.

“They’ve set the roof on fire.”

He doesn’t need long to piece together what’s happened. There’s a thin plume of smoke rising from the inner curve of the roof and within, a flicker of light no bigger than that from a candle waving gently in the rafters. The canon. They wadded the canon, he realises. The little flame wafts higher in the breeze. The crowd is oblivious, too focused on the stage to be looking upwards. He taps Yusuf’s thigh.

It does take a moment. “Oh dear.” Yusuf looks back and forth between the roof and the stage, face falling. “Well maybe-

There’s a loud pop as the flame meets eager fuel. It dances up into the thatch lining the hooped roof and flares wide and greedy. Whip fast, it licks across the reeds consuming them in crunches and cracks that have people now looking skywards and shouting. Those in the highest galleries rear back as the fire completes its rapid circuit of the roof. By the time the actors have abandoned their attempts at continuing and stand dumbstruck on the stage, the theatre is ringed in an ominous halo of flame.

“Yusuf, unless your intention is a repeat of ’54…” Quynh trails off sadly, holding her cabbage.

Clumps of lit thatch are beginning to drift into the standing audience and the pushing and shoving follows in earnest. One man charges through the crowd braying, his breeches alight. Andromache stands looking decidedly more cheerful. “Come on, we’ll help them clear the pit.”

Nicolò follows suit, a hand falling to Yusuf’s shoulder. He has to work to quell an absurd urge to laugh; Yusuf is glaring at the roof with all the stubbornness of a chastised child. He squeezes gently, sympathy winning out. “I’m sorry.”

“Canons, who on earth thought canons in a wooden building was…” Yusuf trails off, glancing up. “Nothing to be done I suppose.” He holds out his other hand. “Shall we?”

Drawing Yusuf up behind him, Nicolò moves out into the stairwell twisting up into the higher galleries where people are starting to pile down in haste. An older man stumbles in the rush and he reaches out to steady him. “Careful, sir. Head out towards the river.”

The man nods and quickly hurries on pressing his handkerchief to his mouth. The next woman through the door snatches her arm up to her chest before he can move to offer any assistance. Dirty papist  she spits as she veers away. Yusuf tenses, a hard line pressed at his back. Nicolò just dips his head.

“Please hurry.”

By the time the flow of people has ebbed the flames are beginning to consume the ornate stage pillars. The curtains masking backstage catch like parchment and blaze furiously. “We should make sure the galleries are clear,” he says, “you take the east, I the west?”

Yusuf eyes the roof timbers warily. “Five minutes. No more.”

In the end it only takes Nicolò four minutes to usher the last stubborn gamblers from the gentleman’s room. The fact that the smoke has now crept down to waist level speeds this along nicely, and they hurry to the stairwell hunched and coughing. Nicolò stays low, following them down the last steep flight when his foot catches on something in the darkness, almost putting his hand through the adjacent wall in an attempt to steady himself. There’s a man slouched in the corner, limbs sprawled wide and snoring. An empty bladder clutched to his chest. The strength of the brandy fumes punch through the dense smoke to further sting at his eyes and his irritation almost threatens to outweigh his conscience. Almost.

By the time he staggers out into clear air dragging his oblivious charge Nicolò know he’s been much longer than five minutes. Behind him there’s a crash which sounds very much like the galleries have finally given in and collapsed. Sounds like, because his eyes are clenched shut, burning and watering. Pressing his hands to his knees, he tries not to gag on the tar in his throat.

A hand settles on the back of his neck whilst another cups a palmful of water to his face. Nicolò winces.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, “He’s heavier than he looks.”

He can hear Yusuf grinding his teeth but his response is surprisingly placid. “Rinse your eyes.”

Yusuf presses a water skin into his hands and moves away. When Nicolò’s vision has cleared he spots him back near the eastern entrance, patiently shepherding two enraptured boys further from the fire as they gape at the sky. Even for one who has seen much, Nicolò must admit, it is quite a sight.

The playhouse’s cylindrical shape has moulded the fire into a twirling steeple of flame inside the structure, now reaching twenty feet clear of the building itself. The Globe resembles an enormous cauldron struggling to hold its roiling contents. It belches clouds of thick black smoke as its rim splinters and cracks under the pressure and heat. What’s left of the thatch continues to feed the furnace, keeping the flames bright and fierce.

Quynh appears, sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow to steer him away. She leads him to a grassy curve of the riverbank where people are congregating in groups and beginning to resettle on the ground. From one muse to another, the audience remain eager spectators, gasping and whooping as the bones of the building begin to break, sending up showers of sparks. Yusuf and Andromache join them just as the walls start to keel inwards.

“You were right, definitely one of his more memorable works,” Andromache announces as they sit. “Perhaps my favourite.”

“Yes, I’m so very glad you enjoyed yourself.” Yusuf’s tone is flat, but his eyes roll indulgently.

Quynh settles herself back against Andromache’s bent knees, facing the playhouse. “We can still make a night of it. We get a bottle of wine, some pastries. Watch the sunset.” Her voices softens slightly and she levels her gaze at them. “You really must go so soon?”

He looks to Yusuf, who nods. “We have passage on a ship to Antwerp. She leaves on the tide tomorrow morning.”

Quynh’s sigh is dejected. “You won’t consider staying just a little longer? We’re moving on to…” she trails off, peering up at Andromache – Devon, she supplies, “We could use your help relocating these women. The trials are becoming barbaric.”

Yusuf shakes his head, surveying the crowd. “I’d prefer not to tempt fate. London is not at its most welcoming for us presently.

Nicolò quirks his lip. “You mean for me.” Ah, he sees now. The woman from earlier is stood just a little further up the bank, clutching at well-dressed man and pointing at them. Yusuf stares back unflinchingly. Nicolò feels him shift to further block her line of sight to him.

Then he turns back to meet Nicolò’s eye and speaks firmly. “For us. If a place does not welcome you, it does not welcome me.” 

Quynh has watched the exchange carefully and suddenly sits up. She clears her throat and calls out loudly enough for those nearest to turn. “Thou art a boil, madam, a plague sore!”

Andromache snorts and the woman raises her fan to her face appalled, tugging on her husband’s arm. It has the intended effect on Yusuf though and his grin returns to its proper place. Nicolò feels a familiar rush of affection for Quynh and her unfailing ability to put people at ease.

“King Lear,” Yusuf says proudly. “I didn’t think you were paying attention.”

“Of course she was,” Andromache interjects, “It’s a magnum opus of insults.”

Quynh grins up at her. “Oh, you worsted-stockinged knave.”

The retort is instant. “Brazen-faced varlet.”

“Ancient ruffian.”

Andromache shrugs. “Accurate.”

Their laughter comes in easy unison and Yusuf’s expression is unbearably soft as he watches them. “It won’t be for long,” he promises.

Quynh pulls her eyes from Andromache and nods. “Probably a sensible choice at the moment. You do look violently Venetian Nicolò.

He wrinkles his nose, affronted. “I do not-”

Yusuf is reaching for his face, so he pauses his protest for the gentle pass of a thumb over the bridge of his nose. “It’s your profile my love.” Yusuf’s tongue darts out over the pad of his thumb before it returns to rub more firmly at his nose. “Which currently is very sooty.”

With his hands still upon Nicolò’s face he murmurs.  “Oh but what a piece of work is this man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel,” Yusuf blinks, his sincerity blinding, “in apprehension how like a god.”

It’s all Nicolò can do not to rub his flushed cheeks into Yusuf’s palms like an alley cat.

Andromache arches a refined brow at Quynh. “Nicolò gets a Hamletian ode to his soul, and I get ‘ruffian’?”

Quynh rocks onto her elbow in the grass without missing a beat. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Mayhap a smouldering playhouse, ablaze in righteous flame?

“Likened to a smoking wreckage, how romantic.”

Nicolò would laugh but Yusuf is still holding his gaze and his face, everything else muting around him. He does this; bestows his love in soft declarations that leave Nicolò stunned, and then holds him steady until the words perfuse. Nicolò loves him so much he feels he might combust, with all the ferocity of the fire at his back.

Centuries before, he had allowed his disbelief to ask a question once, and only once. The intensity frightening him. Could a gift such as this truly be his eternal?

Nicolò smiles at his world and whispers.

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and gives life to thee.

 held in the embers on ao3 at theexistentialteapot

 part one of this series can be found here

[kitkatt0430]

Hartmon Fic Recs

Since June 30 of HartmonFest is "Rec your favorite fanworks" I have a small list of recs below the cut. :D

BLUE series by Embrosia "Out of the Blue" starts with Team Flash on a well deserved vacation, swerves straight into a kidnapping as the Rogues - under Mardon's lead - show up to cause trouble, and Hartley's attempts to protect Cisco land him in hot water too... "Blue Bayou" has Cisco and Hartley as an established couple on a camping trip that goes terribly wrong, amongst several other ongoing problems. These were some of the first Hartmon fics I read and I think some of the descriptions of Cisco's vibes influenced how I write them too. While I think there was intended to be a third entry to the series, it never manifested and given that one of Embrosia's other Hartmon fics is unfinished, it's unlikely to ever be written. But the two stories the series does have are really good and I've re-read them more than a few times. The stories definitely have lots of whump in them for poor Cisco and Hartley, but they get to comfort each other after so it's alright. ;)

So Happy Together by pinegreenapples When Cisco tells his beloved, but still a busy body, cousin that he's got a boyfriend... Hartley Rathaway. Who, of course, is really Cisco's workplace rival... This one is really cute and Cisco's cousin is actually pretty fun, though she's worse than my sister was about trying to play matchmaker. It's got fake dating and rivals to lovers tropes in play and plenty of fluff.

"Got You Right Where I Want You" and Other Cliches by The_Heart_Of_Leo In which Cisco and Hartley enjoy some sexy, sexy roleplay as hero and villain. Absolutely deserves its Explicit rating as the entire thing is smut. And the two of them checking in with each other during the scene is just... <3

New Conditions by AssistedRealityInterface To quote the actual summary: "Hartley got disowned for being queer six months ago. He's still trying to work out the decades of abuse that preceded all of that. Cisco helps, and heals." Hartley is dealing with some heartbreakingly awful internalized homophobia and Cisco's probably dealing with a little internalized ableism too, but Cisco helps Hartley start to find some peace within himself and it's all just... very sweet.

Siren Song by ironyruinedmylife In which Hartley's enhanced hearing isn't his only power - he's got charmspeak too. He's also somehow become the parental figure to a number of street kids and Iris West's newest friend, though he'd like to pretend he's just striking at Barry through Iris for the sake of his villain cred. It's a bit crack-fic feeling in tone in places, but that just lends to the charm. That being said, there's a child death in there, so if you read it be prepared.

Ghosting by @fezwearingjellybananas Hartley buys a haunted house and, desperate for help fixing it up, turns to Cisco. After getting over the fact that Hartley's asking him for help, Cisco figures he can help Hartley fix the place up and debunk the haunting. I love them trying to be all scientific about trying to disprove the ghosts while clearly something supernatural is going on. The slow build up of their relationship is cute too

Between Hope and Fear by @purpleyin Takes place during the pandemic so it gets pretty heavy; very much an angst with a happy ending sort of story. Hartley's very sweet, if seriously over stressed, during the whole thing. I'm pretty sure this made me cry the first time I read it.

@hartmonfest that's a wrap for me on giving story recs. Though there are certainly plenty more excellent Cisco/Hartley stories out there to choose from. :D

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

I’d put a crown at your feet... (Part I)

For the dearest @marilynmonroefanfics​ 💝👄

Hope you’ll like the story.

TW: mentions of smut

June 1972. Castle of Balmoral.

Walking through the Scottish lands, Philip Mountbatten, Duke of Edinburgh, was in a foul mood. 

He felt like his life was falling apart for two years. Or maybe for more years? 

He did not remember when it went sour, but for sure, he knew that his life was a complete mess.

First of all, his marriage was falling apart: he and Elizabeth grew distant from each other. Farewell, the sweet romance of the beginning! Even the birth of Edward, their last child, did not manage to patch things up between them.

Secondly, his “dear” wife did not show any maternal love for their children. She cast Charles, Anne, Andrew, and Edward away, often scolding them for their mistakes and barely complimenting their efforts or successes. 

Philip had to admit that he was not really present for his children, but he was not at ease with them. Moreover, Elizabeth took perverse pleasure remembering his royal duties.

But the final straw was when he discovered that his spouse enjoyed the company of other men, to say the least.

Amazing! And he was the one the press accused of being a cheating husband! It is a topsy-turvy world!

As he was brooding over the disaster of his personal life, he did not hear the sound of a four-wheel-drive coming near to him until a familiar voice called him:

"Hello there, dear brother-in-law!"

He turned around and saw Margaret at the wheel of her vehicle, a slight smile on her face.

"What are you doing here?"

"Invading Scotland! Seriously, I'm escaping from my sister's boring sycophants! They were wasting my day!"

Philip smirked: his sister-in-law was the best person to understand how he felt in this oppressive world. Even if they did not have the same character, Philip and Margaret managed to get along. Especially since they had to tolerate Elizabeth's obnoxious behavior for some years.

"If you talk about the Daniels and the Furlingtons, you took the best decision! I would do the same!"

"Is it not what you're currently doing? Escaping from my dear sister at long strides?"

The prince shrugged.

"Maybe..."

"I see... Fancy a ride?"

"Is it risky?" joked Philip.

"Oh, don't be such a coward! Get in the car!"

"How could I refuse such a lovely request?" said her brother-in-law with irony as he climbed in the car!

Soon after, they were driving into the Scottish countryside, enjoying the view at every turn. Philip admitted that his legs needed some rest after his long walk.

After half an hour of driving, Margaret stopped the car, and they appreciated the point of view.

"Well, I have to tell: you are an excellent driver!"

"Oh, I had a good teacher! Dad and I used to drive there when I was younger!"

She sadly smiled.

"I remember his laugh... He told me how bold I was!"

"I wish I could have those kinds of memories with my own father!" answered Philip.

"Sure, you were not lucky!"

Both stayed silent, watching the calm landscape until Margaret spoke again.

"If Dad were among us, he would never let Elizabeth behaving that way with you or the children!"

"You're probably right. Unfortunately, I don't know what your mother thinks about it!"

"Don't worry about that! She often criticizes Lizzie for her lack of maternal love! She said that the monarch of Great Britain should never forget both their royal obligations and their parental duties!"

"Regrettably, your sister does not really care about it!"

Margaret scoffed.

"You bet she did not listen! My dear sister repeats that her children are more a burden than a blessing!"

She turned towards Philip.

"Speaking of that, make some effort, damn it! It looks like you're trying to avoid them at any cost! Don't you love your children?"

This question hit Philip like a punch!

"What are you talking about? Of course, I love my children!"

"Then, act like it! They are craving affection, and they cannot count on their mother for that! They need their father, and if you don't do anything to rectify the situation, you will regret it!"

The Duke of Edinburgh sighed.

"I know that it's not an excuse, but nobody taught me how to be a father. I tried my best, but I only witness the disaster I've created!"

"Don't be so pessimistic, or you're going to make me depressed! Sincerely, between you and my sister, you are the better parent! You just have to improve it, and it's not too late!"

She frowned.

"But I can't even believe Lizzie dared cheat on you with this jackass!"

"You know the name of her lover?"

"The most recent one? Of course, I know his name... and you know him too!"

"Who is it?"

"You won't like it... But it's Roger Acherville, one of your squires!"

Enraged, Philip struck the dashboard.

"DAMN IT! THIS RASCAL BOWED AND SCRAPED IN FRONT OF ME, BUT SHARED MY WIFE'S BED!"

Margaret bit her lip: she wished she never had to tell that news to her brother-in-law, but she must tell him the truth, even if it hurts like hell!

"I'm sorry, Philip. I'd prefer never tell you this..."

He interrupted her.

"No, you were right. You did well to tell me who my wife is cheating on me with right now!"

Philip was upset. How could Elizabeth do such a thing to him, after all they have been through together?

"But now I don't know what to do ..."

He turned to Margaret and saw that she was wearing a big, mischievous smile.

The kind of smile that announced that she had an idea behind her head and that didn't promise well.

"What are you going to tell me again as a twisted idea?"

"You know the law of retaliation: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth..."

"I know this motto, indeed. And then?"

"Well, what I mean is... I allow you to get your own back on my sister!"

Philip opened his eyes wide: he thought he hallucinated? Did Margaret just authorize him to cheat on Elizabeth? 

Years ago, she would have torn his eyes out if he ever imagines that possibility!

But now, the circumstances were different, and she was his best ally in Buckingham Palace.

Moreover, the idea of finding solace in someone else's arms was not unpleasant... 

He nodded.

"Alright! You convinced me!"

"Really?"

"Yes! After all, why my dear wife should be the one having fun?"

"That's the spirit, dear in-law! Before you start finding a lover, do you know what would make me happy?"

"What?"

"Shave that goddamn beard! You look like a caveman!"

The prince consort laughed: he almost forgot his bushy beard!

"What is the problem with that? It looks nice to me! People would think that I am an explorer! Or a Viking: after all, I am a Danish prince! Or maybe Socrates, as I am a Greek Prince too!"

"Of course, and I look like the lost twin of Marilyn Monroe!" she taunted the Duke while playfully punching him on the shoulder.

The two royals laughed and spoke for a long time, far from their daily issues. After all, this day was the beginning of a new journey for Philip Mountbatten...

Two months later. August 1972

Philip adjusted his bow tie: he hoped he wasn't doing anything stupid by accepting Margaret's invitation to one of her parties. She had promised him that he would not be bored and that he might find the perfect person.

He sighed: he knew he was running a risk looking for a mistress. 

If ever the press caught him in the arms of a woman, his reputation was gone! And his wife would not hesitate to put him down!

Straightening his chest, he gave a satisfied smile and got ready to join his sister-in-law when his son Andrew entered the room:

"Good evening, father ... Oh, you are very elegant!"

"Thanks, Andrew."

"Are you going out tonight?"

"Indeed, yes. I'm accompanying your Aunt Margaret to one of her parties. According to her, I am the guest of honor."

The 12-year-old boy nodded.

"Does ... Mother approve of this?"

"I have to. At least, your father will stop my sister from doing something stupid!" answered a familiar voice.

With these words, Queen Elizabeth entered the room. Dressed in a pearl gray satin dress, she had put on her most exquisite jewelry. She looked stern, almost disdainful. 

"Good evening, mother. You are beautiful tonight!"

The queen ignored the compliment and turned to her husband.

"Can I count on you so that Margaret doesn't end up dead drunk in another man's bed?"

"I'll do my best ... And you, what have you planned tonight?"

"I'm attending a reception at the Indian Embassy. As for Mother, she spends the evening with her lady-in-waiting, and Edward stays with them."

"And what about Charles and Anne?"

"I have no idea, and I don't want to know!"

Philip raised his eyebrows.

"I thought every parent should be worried about their children's nighttime activities!"

She replied in an annoyed tone.

"Oh, don't say such nonsense! They are old enough to fend for themselves! Besides, I have other priorities!"

She glanced at the clock that sat quietly in the back of the room.

"If you have nothing else to tell me, I'll leave you! I have to go to the embassy! Have a good evening!"

She turned on her heels and took off at a brisk pace, leaving her husband and son alone.

The Duke saw the sad look on Andrew's face and felt pain for him: how many times has he witnessed his wife ignore their children's words?

He tried to cheer his son up:

"Come on, it's nothing. I'm sure your compliment made your mother happy!"

Andrew replied:

"Don't bother too much about it, father. She does not care what I tell her. And she does the same to Charles, Anne, and even Edward!"

The young boy turned his gaze to his father:

"Even you, she snubs you all the time!"

"Well ... let's say that between adults, things can get more complicated!"

"Well, that doesn't make you want to be an adult!"

Philip laughed at the clear opinion of his third child.

"Don't worry, it won't be like this all the time! I'm sure you'll find someone you get along with!"

"I hope so too..."

Changing the subject, Philip asked:

"So what about you? What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm staying with Grandma and Edward. At least, I am sure to have a good evening!"

"I think so too. Well, I have to leave you: if I arrive late, your aunt might strangle me!"

"What are you waiting for? Go ahead!"

"I'm going! See you tomorrow!"

"See you tomorrow, father!"

Philip kissed his son on the forehead before heading outside the palace, where a limousine awaited him.

He got into the back of the vehicle and ordered his driver:

"We can go, Henry! Let's go to Princess Margaret's residence!"

"Right away, Your Highness!"

And the vehicle set off, taking the prince to the place of the party.

A few minutes later, he arrived outside Kensington Palace, where several luxury cars were already parked in the driveway.

With a steady step, he entered the house where a butler greeted him with deference:

"Welcome to Kensington Palace, Your Royal Highness."

"Thank you. Could you tell the Princess that I have arrived?"

"She's in the main living room, Your Highness. If you please follow me, sir ..."

The Duke of Edinburgh followed the servant into a large room with dancing music and laughter.

Philip spotted Margaret, in her best dress, chatting happily with her guests.

The butler walked up to his employer and announced:

"Lady Snowden, His Royal Highness Duke Philip of Edinburgh has arrived."

"Perfect! He's coming at the right time! Thanks, Howard!" Margaret exclaimed before going to greet her brother-in-law.

"Good evening, Philip. I see you dressed up… But you still haven't shaved your goddamn beard! What did I tell you?"

“This must be my rebellious side…” smirked Philip.

This remark amused the princess, who grinned.

"You got the point!"

She took his wrist.

"Come on! I have some lovely people to introduce you to!"

And so Philip became acquainted with singers, actors, dancers, musicians, artists, and other socialites of good English society.

Suddenly, he noticed the presence of a young man who was talking to some artists.

Although he tried to stay focused on the conversation, he found it difficult to take his eyes off this mysterious young man.

The latter had dark skin, raven hair, and intense ebony eyes. Dressed in an elegant black suit, he was rather slender and had elegant hands.

Philip saw that he was wearing light makeup that showed off his face. 

Margaret saw that her brother-in-law seemed hypnotized by the young man. She smiled:

"Tell me, Philip, would you like me to do the introductions with that handsome brunette over there?"

"What? Come on, Margaret, you don't have to ..."

"No way! Follow me!"

Letting out a long sigh, the Duke followed the Princess, who addressed her guests:

"So, are you having fun?"

"Absolutely, Maggie! This night is awesome!"

"I am delighted about it!"

She turned to the man who accompanied the mysterious young man.

"Jonathan, you nasty little secretive! You did not present me this delicious young person who accompanies you!"

"Where are my good manners? Margaret, Prince Philip, let me introduce you to Piero De Angelis! He is a model of your husband Anthony!"

"I should have guessed! Anthony has always had an eye for beauty!"

The British princess turned to the man named Piero.

"And you, my dear, how do you like this evening? Are you having fun, I hope?"

"Oh yes, Your Highness. I'm having a great evening!"

The prince noticed that he had a voice that was soft enough for a man.

"I am delighted about it!" smiled Margaret, who nudged Philip lightly.

The latter, having understood the message, cleared his throat before asking:

"Like that, your name is Piero? Like the character from commedia dell'arte?"

"Not quite, but I admit it sounds like it! My name is spelled P-I-E-R-O, while the character is spelled P-I-E-R-R-O-T. That is all the difference!"

"I see ... When you take a closer look, you look a bit like him!"

"Oh, really? Do I look melancholic?"

"No, but your makeup is as subtle as his!"

His sister-in-law slapped her forehead: she feared Philip might bring out one of his sharp sense of humor. His jokes tend to upset those involved. 

However, she did not expect Piero to respond maliciously:

"Beware, Your Highness: appearances are often deceptive. For example, when I look at you, I can say that it must be several centuries since you last saw a shaving foam!"

This gibe amused Margaret, who gave a fit of laughter, while the other guests gasped in horror: how dared this young commoner speaking to the prince consort with such poor manners?

As for Philip, he was taken aback: no one ever ventured to respond to one of his jokes. But he had to say: Piero had some spirit, and he liked that!

He laughed:

"Well played! I appreciate people with some character!"

Philip offered his hand to the young man:

"I know when I lost the game."

Smiling, the young Mister De Angelis shook hands with the prince:

"It was an honor verbally sparring with a member of the Royal family!"

At the second their hands touched, Philip felt like electricity went all over his body. He thought it has been years since he underwent such emotion... 

As for Piero, he was mesmerized: he always found Prince Philip attractive when he saw him on official pictures, but now, the young man could affirm that the prince consort was handsome, to say the least. 

The young man also observed that Philip's piercing eyes hid something else, but he could not tell what: sadness? Or melancholy? Hope? 

Yet, he was sure that the Duke of Edinburgh was not as happy as he seemed.

When they stopped shaking hands, Piero bowed respectfully before Philip:

"It was a pleasure speaking with you, sir."

"The pleasure was mine, Signore De Angelis."

Amused, the young man slightly bowed his head before he turned his heels and walked away.

Philip smirked: this young Piero was the most interesting man he ever met so far.

He glanced at Margaret, who smirked slightly. Looks like she had something in her mind...

"What?"

"Nothing... I just confirm that you find your match!" she muttered as she sipped her glass of Martini.

Rolling his eyes, Philip answered:

"Please, do not make overly ambitious plans!"

"What? Do not give me that stern look!"

Shaking his head in disbelief, Philip glanced at the young man with a sly smile on his face: he had the feeling that Piero would have an intriguing role in the future...

Two weeks later, at Kensington Palace.

In the main living room of the palace, Philip and Margaret talked about many gossips and their respective marriages.

"I'm glad to hear that you and Anthony are on better terms!"

"Yes. I would not lie, it was struggling. But, in the end, it is worth fighting for!"

The prince nodded before sighing:

"I really hoped that things would get better between Elizabeth and me. Unfortunately, I have to certify that it only worsens! She avoids me most of the time, and I am sure she pretends to have different appointments to be with this Acherville!"

His sister-in-law puts a sympathetic hand on his arm.

"I am sincerely sorry for this, Philip."

"Thank you, Margaret. But, my hardship only strengthens my desire to see someone else... Someone who can love me for who I am!"

An impish smile came across Margaret's face.

"A little bird tells me that you have a specific young man in your mind, am I right?"

The Duke of Edinburgh raised his hands in defeat.

"There's no fooling you!"

The princess squealed in delight.

"I knew it! I saw this little sparkle in your eyes that says a lot about your feelings!"

"Wait a minute... Are not you upset by the fact that I may be romantically involved with a man?" 

She shrugged.

"As if I care! Choose whoever you want to sleep with, as long as it gets on Lizzie's nerves!"

"I recognize your open-minded character!" chuckled Philip.

"Indeed."

"Speaking of him, what can you tell me about this Piero De Angelis?"

"Are you reading on my mind? I was about to tell you what I know so far!"

"Go ahead!"

She cleared her throat and answered:

"Well, I asked my best friend, Lady Anne Tennant, to give me some pieces of information about him. According to her, he was born in a middle-class family who fled Italy during World War Two. Loving parents, close relationships with his siblings. A nice life, to sum up. 

He is six years older than Charles. She also told me that he graduated from Oxford, but he prefers modeling. He sometimes worked as a tutor for children of noble families. I approve of his model career: he has such good looks! It would be a shame not to take advantage of it!"

"Sure... What about his temperament? His hobbies?"

"As far as I know, he is an artist: he loves drawing, sculpting, dancing, taking artistic pictures, painting, acting, and singing! A perfect artist, I tell you. Those who know him say that he is patient, charming, cultivated, smart, polite, and humble... He has some humor, but you have already noticed it. Ah, I almost forgot! He has some... unusual tastes!"

Philip raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't imagine something scandalous! It's just that he loves good fashion, jewels, and perfumes."

"He has a fondness for feminine things..."

"Exactly. Is it not a problem?"

"Oh, I would handle... At least, I'll have someone to give those kinds of presents!"

"That's the Philip I know! I might add that he currently lives in the area of Westbourne, in the neighborhood of Notting Hill... which is not far from here!"

"You planned everything, did not you?"

"I learn to anticipate, dear in-law! He lives in a small house, so you won't be disturbed by potential housemates."

Philip smiled before saying:

"Alright. So, am I supposed to go there, and ask him out?"

Her grin confused the prince consort.

"Oh, dear... That won't be necessary!"

As Philip was about to ask what she meant, a butler appeared:

"Your Highness, Mister De Angelis is here. Shall I let him in?"

"Perfect, just in time! Let him in, Howard!"

The prince could not believe his ears:

"You invite him?"

"Of course, dear in-law! Like this, you would get to know each other better!"

At the same time, Piero entered the room, escorted by the butler. Margaret gave her warmest smile towards the young man:

"Piero, caro mio! What a pleasure to see you! How are you since the last time?"

"I am fine, thank you. I did not expect an invitation from you..."

He noticed the presence of Philip and bowed:

"Your Highness..."

"Mister De Angelis..."

Suddenly, Margaret stood up from her place and said:

"Well, you know what? I'll pop over Lady Anne and picking some pastries, while you two have a nice little conversation. I would not be too long..."

"What? But..." started Philip.

"No protest in my house! Alright, see you later!"

She turned her heels and walked out of the palace, followed by her butler.

The two men stood silent, looking at each other. Piero broke the silence as he tried a joke:

"I see that you finally shaved your beard..."

The prince chuckled:

"Yes, indeed. As you can see, my interview with the shaving foam went well."

"I hope my joke didn't offend you."

"Absolutely not. I'm fond of that kind of blunt humor, and I was pretty happy to find someone to share it with!"

"You see me honored, Your Highness."

Philip shook his head negatively.

"No formalities with me: we are not at Buckingham Palace! You can call me Philip!"

Piero was surprised by this inquiry but didn't really pay attention:

"However you like, Philip. In that case, you can call me Piero. Or Peter, if you prefer."

"Understood, Piero."

The young man asked:

"Did your wife ask you to shave?"

Piero regretted asking that question because he saw a glimmer of sadness in the Duke's eyes.

The latter sighed:

"No, I was the one who took that initiative. And to be honest, my wife doesn't really care about my hair choices. In fact, she doesn't really care about me at all!"

This revelation surprised Piero: he did not expect Prince Philip to make such a confession to him about his married life!

"You ... are you arguing?"

"If only that was all that! But unfortunately, there is also indifference, contempt, and estrangement!"

"I am sincerely sorry for you, Your Highness. But you know, all may not be lost: things will surely work out ..."

Philip laughed bitterly:

"How I would like to be as optimistic as you! But when the person you love goes to seek passion elsewhere, you no longer have any illusions!"

"Indeed, seen from that angle, it is a bad start to save a marriage ... But why are you telling me all this? You do not have to tell me these things."

With these words, the prince approached the young artist and replied:

“That's right, I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it. But I've been looking for someone for so long who could listen to me and understand me. I'm tired of feeling isolated… Nonetheless, ever since I met you, Piero, it's like the light has returned to my life. Yes, I know we barely got to know each other, but I've always trusted my instincts when it comes to people I meet, and I've been right every time. "

Piero began to understand where the duke was going and panicked:

"Huh? Oh no! No, no, no, and three times no!"

"What do you mean?" Philip asked, confused.

"I can see exactly what you want to ask, and I refuse! I don't want to be a simple consolation prize! I saw what it was like to be the lover of a king or a prince, and it doesn't make you want to be one! "

He continued in a calm tone:

"I have no doubt that you are a handsome man with many qualities, but I cannot accept being just a passing lover until the day you reconcile with the queen. I do not like the idea of being a simple shoulder to cry on that you give up as soon as everything is better. "

Philip was speechless: he expected everything but that! However, he should have waited a bit before declaring his love. But the tension in his relationship was so unbearable that he despaired finding someone he could love unconditionally.

And this young Piero was the person he needed ... he still had to accept!

Philip dropped to his knees in front of the young man, and took his hands between his while looking at him with pleading eyes:

"I swear Piero: if you were to become my lover, it's because I feel like no love exists anymore between Elizabeth and me. I suffered from abandonment when I was just a child, and I know only too well the harm it does. I would never do this to a person who is dear to me..."

"But get up, damn it! If we were seen like that ..." Piero stammered, panicked.

"I don't care! I know you are suspicious of beautiful promises, but I swear to you that I will never disappoint you. You will always be showered with gifts ..."

"Hang on! I'm not a materialist!"

"I know, I know ... I will make sure to spend time with you, I will call you regularly ... I will be the most devoted lover that can exist!"

The young man laughs lightly:

"Please, it feels like a Barbara Cartland novel!"

"Thank you for this unflattering comparison!" grumbled the prince, who smiled.

Philip stood up and asked:

"What are you going to decide?"

Piero bit his lip: to tell the truth, he was torn between two feelings. On the one hand, he was scared to become the lover of the Duke of Edinburgh. He did not want to betray the Queen and being the next prey of the press!

But on the other side, he had to admit that he was always fascinated by Prince Philip and his magnetic charm. And then there was this vulnerability in this man that the young man found irresistible.

After a few minutes of thought, he replied:

"I admit that this somewhat surprising declaration of love took me by surprise. And even if I do not want to be an accomplice in adultery, I want to give you a chance!"

Reassured, Philip dared to kiss the young man's tanned forehead and replied:

"I promise you won't regret it! How much time do I have ahead of me?"

"Two months. I think that will give me time to see if I can give it a go or not."

"And that will be more than enough to convince you!" Philip laughed.

10 months later. May 1973

The spring sun sneaked through the curtains, caressing Piero's sleepy face.

The latter woke up slowly and opened his eyes, a smile on his face.

He turned and fondly looked at his sleeping lover. 

The young man smiled when he saw Philip so appeased: he was happy to have accepted the prince consort's proposal.

At the same time, the latter succeeded in his probationary period: he was a considerate, loving, affectionate, and caring boyfriend. 

Piero had never had so many presents in his life: the number of beautiful clothes that filled his wardrobe was impressive. And what about the magnificent jewelry that Philip brought back from his official trips?

All this had convinced the young man to become Prince Philip's lover, but also his confidant: it was to him that the Duke of Edinburgh told of his marital misfortunes and his doubts about his ability to be a good father for their children. And Piero felt privileged to be one of the few to know Philip's emotional wounds.

But what made their relationship so intense was when they had sex. Although the prince was a middle-aged man, he was an experienced and vigorous lover. The first time they had sex, they took their time to get to know each other's bodies better and to have fun.

The other times, the antics were more intense, even passionate ... as was the case last night, when they "celebrated" Philip's return from an official trip to America.

He remembered the feel of Philip's rough yet gentle hands on his body, their bodies moving against each other, their cries of pleasure filling the air... It was a pleasant experience, even if it was the umpteenth time they made love.

Of course, the two lovers would like to see each other more often, but they had to be discreet so as not to attract the attention of the media, let alone that of the Queen.

But hey, that didn't bother Piero who was delighted not to become the new darling of London.

Suddenly he felt Philip stretch and wake up. The prince turned to his lover and smiled at him:

"Hello, mein Liebe. You are very early."

"To believe that I took your bad habit!" the young man smiled.

"But it's not a bad habit to be early in the morning. On the contrary, it gives me more time to enjoy your presence ..." the duke replied before kissing his lover.

"Speaking of having time to spare, wasn't it today that you promised Charles to have lunch with him?"

"Damn, I almost forgot!" Philip exclaimed, hopping out of bed before rushing into the bathroom.

"What a scatterbrain!" Piero laughed while getting dressed.

"I heard you!"

"That was the goal, amore!" replied the young man, teasingly.

5 minutes later, the Duke comes out of the bathroom, ready to return to his obligations.

"Am I presentable?"

"Honestly, you are still handsome!"

Smiling, Philip kissed his lover's cheek:

"I'll call you tonight, I promise."

"I will wait impatiently for your call ... Come on, go join your son!"

"I'm going right now. See you tonight!"

"See you tonight!"

As the Duke left the house, Peter lay still on his bed, a thoughtful smile on his lips.

He was glad that the relationship between Philip and his children had improved, especially thanks to his advice.

Piero had relied on his life with his parents and siblings to empower his lover to be a more present father to his children.

Speaking of which, Piero would love to meet his lover's offspring: seeing how Philip talks about it, they must be very nice young people.

He would love to talk about the arts with Charles, who seemed to be very passionate about it. 

He would also appreciate being able to walk with Anne and talk about lots of things or reassure her about her future as a young bride. 

He would love to give fashion advice to Andrew who was already paying attention to his appearance when he was only 13 years old.

 And he would be happy to spend time with Edward, the youngest of the siblings. 

This boy worried his father a lot because he was silent and always seemed sad...

Suddenly the phone rang, interrupting Piero's thoughts. 

He picked up the phone:

"Hello?"

"**Dear Piero, how are you?**"

"Oh, hello, Margaret. I'm fine, thank you. How about you?"

"**Oh, it's okay. As much as I wish I hadn't had tea with Sally Frodenborough! This woman is so boring, I thought I was going to fall asleep!**"

The young man laughed.

"Now do you understand why I politely decline her invitations for tea?"

"**You'll tell me so much ... But let's forget about it! Tell me instead about your relationship with my esteemed brother-in-law! How is it going?**"

"It's a fairy tale, I can't say better!"

Piero knew he owed it all to Margaret: she was the one who introduced them at that party at Kensington Palace. Since then, she had become an ally and a friend of the couple and did not hesitate to invite them to her home so that they could meet again.

All this with the benevolent complicity of her husband, Anthony.

Over time, the princess and the young artist became good friends, and she often invited Piero to have tea at her place.

"**Glad to hear that, darling. Besides, I have to say that your relationship is very positive for Philip. He is happier, more serene, and closer to his children. You did a great job!**"

"I only encouraged him, he did the rest!"

"**Don't be so modest! However, I think my sister is suspecting something!**"

Hearing this, Piero felt a chill run through his spine: if the queen ever learned that her husband was cheating on her with a simple artist, he feared the worst!

"When you say she suspects something, do you mean she suspects Philip of adultery?"

"**No, I wouldn't go that far. But she can see the change in Philip's mood and she knows it's not her responsibility. She's not really trying to find out, but let's be careful!**"

"You're right ... But, I admit that there are times I wish I could spend more time with Philip. I understand he's doing his best without raising suspicion, but ..."

"**I see what you mean, and I understand you ... Oh wait: I just got an idea!**"

"Again? But it never stops"

"**My dad always said I was the most imaginative of the family. Okay, here's what we could do...**"

A week later, at Buckingham Palace.

In one of the palace rooms, Queen Elizabeth was having tea with her mother, Queen Mum.

"But what is Margaret doing? She should have been here since 10 minutes ago!" the sovereign said impatiently.

"Don't be so harsh on your sister, Lilibeth. I've heard that traffic in London is a bit chaotic right now. If so, she got stuck in a traffic jam."

"Maybe ..." Elizabeth replied.

Suddenly a servant entered the room and announced:

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Margaret, your Majesty!"

"Finally, here she is! Let her in, thank you!"

The servant shifted and let Margaret in, accompanied by a dark, smartly dressed young man.

"Hello, my dear sister! Hello, mom! Sorry for the inconvenience, but there was an accident near Piccadilly Circus which disrupted all traffic. I thought we would never get there!"

"You see, Elizabeth: I was right ..."

"Indeed, mum. But tell me, Margaret, who is this man with you?"

"I was just going to explain it to you: you see, I thought back to your history of tutoring for Andrew and Edward. And it turns out that this young man, Piero De Angelis, worked as a tutor in very good families. Here, I have some letters of recommendation from them. " she said, handing out a few missives.

Elizabeth took the letters and read them in silence. After reading it, she said:

"My word, your former employers are heap praise on you, Mr. De Angelis. They compliment your pedagogy, your intellect, as well as your patience with children."

She gave a slight smile.

"Since my sister seems to find you suitable for her nephews, I think we can take you on for a trial period."

Piero respectfully bowed while giving the monarch a hand kiss.

"It would be a great honor for me to serve you, Your Majesty!"

"This young man looks very pleasant to me. In my opinion, your sons will be in good hands!" said the Queen Mother, amused.

"Thank you for placing your trust in me, Your Excellency!" Piero replied, giving a slight bow.

At the same time, the door opened and Philip entered the room.

"Ah, Philip: at the right time! I present to you Andrew and Edward's new tutor."

Seeing who it was, Philip thought he was having a heart attack: but what was Piero doing here? It was too risky!

When he saw Margaret by his side, it didn't take long for him to realize that she had yet come up with a completely crazy idea.

Straightening up slightly, he cleared his throat and politely said:

"Welcome, sir ..."

"My name is Piero De Angelis, Your Highness. It is a huge honor to meet you in person!"

The duke refrained from smiling: he had forgotten that his lover was an excellent actor. And he had just proven his talent in front of everyone!

"And how did he convince you to hire him?"

"He was warmly recommended to me by several high society families. All were satisfied with the work of Mr. De Angelis. It seemed logical to me to have a competent person to supervise the education of your youngest sons."

"Sounds perfectly fine to me!" replied the prince consort.

Satisfied with her husband's response, the Queen said:

"Perfect. Then maybe you could introduce Mister De Angelis to his future students?"

"But of course. If you will follow me, sir ..."

And as they were about to leave, Margaret followed on their heels:

"I'm going with them, just to make sure Philip would not terrorize the poor schoolmaster!"

"Hey, I am not a monster!" scoffed Philip.

The three left the room. The duke waited to be far from his wife to scolding his lover and his sister-in-law.

"What's got into you? Did you ever think about the risk of being caught?"

"Oh, don't be such a coward! I thought you would be pleased to have your lovebird here!" whispered Margaret.

"And I thought it would be easier for you if I work here. You won't have to find excuses to see me... Besides, I wanted to meet your children."

The prince consort raised an eyebrow.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me: I wanted to meet your children. You talked about them since we started dating, that I aspired to know them better."

Philip pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed: it would be a miracle if Margaret and Piero did not drive him crazy. But, at least, he would manage to spend quality time with his sweetheart. So, why not take the risk?

"Fine, you convinced me. But, we have to intensify our discretion. Otherwise, we will be doomed!"

"I'll be careful, don't worry!" promised Piero as he gently held his lover's hand.

"Aw, you are so cute!" mockingly cooed Margaret.

"Please, Maggie: stop killing the mood!" grumbled the prince consort, rolling his eyes.

4 months later. August 1973.

"How do you find my drawing, Piero?"

"Let me look at it... Oh, it's beautiful! You have some talent, Edward!"

The young boy happily giggled: he really appreciated his new tutor. Unlike his predecessor, Piero was kind, patient, funny, and really interesting. Thanks to him, the little prince quickly understood his lesson by heart, and his grades improved. The same evolution can be noticed for Andrew: the teenager preferred learning with Piero to listening to his teachers at school.

"You think I am talented?"

"Absolutely! And for who you draw this?"

"For Anne! It would be her present for her wedding!"

"That's absolutely sweet, Edward. I am sure that she would love it!"

Speaking of the princess, she entered the room.

"Good afternoon, Mister De Angelis! Hello, Eddie!"

"Hi, Annie!"

"Good afternoon, Your Highness. How are you today?"

"Fine, thanks. I just come back from a horse-riding session with Mark!"

"Oh, lovely. How it went?"

"It went nice until it started raining. But we finished fast, so I would not soil the clean wooden floors of Buckingham Palace!" snickered Anne.

"Annie! Look what I've drawn for you!" cheerfully exclaimed Edward as he handed his drawing to his sister.

"Oh, thank you: I love it! I will show it to Mark: he would be impressed!"

"Can I draw something for him?"

"Why don't you ask him when he will come back?"

"Alright, I will wait!"

At the same time, Andrew entered the room, dressed in a nice suit.

"Good grief! I thought Mr. Brownsfield would never let us go!"

"Watch your language, young man! If your mother hears you, you will end up being lectured for hours!" gently advised Piero.

"I know, I know... But I am so relieved to be here!"

"I have noticed!"

Anne lightly cleared her throat.

"Piero, can we talk... in private with Andrew and you?"

"Of course! Edward, could you go with your grandmother? I have to discuss some important topics with your siblings."

"Are we finishing the lesson?"

"Yes, indeed. You can go!"

"Alright!" nodded the young boy as he exited the salon.

Soon as Edward left, the young man asked:

"What do you want to talk about, Anne?"

The princess sighed before answering:

"Well, it's about Charles... He is not well."

"Do you mean he is ill?"

"Depressed would be more accurate!"

"Oh, dear! And what depress him?"

Andrew explained:

"Well, his ex-girlfriend got married in July! And he did not really cope with their separation, months ago!"

Piero nodded: he knew that Charles was heart-broken since Camilla Shand, his former sweetheart, ended their love story last year. But he did not expect to be downcast to this point.

"And do you want me... to have a conversation with him?"

"Anne and I thought it would be helpful. After all, you are close to his age!"

"Mark tried to cheer his mood, but it did not work well!"

"Mh, I see... Fine, I will see what I can do!"

The two princes seemed relieved.

"Thank you for your help, Piero."

"That's what I am supposed to do. Where is he?"

"In the gardens. He needed some air..."

Thanking Anne and Andrew, Piero walked downstairs to the gardens where he found Charles, wandering like a lost soul.

"Charles?"

The Crown Prince looked at the schoolmaster and the latter saw deep grief in his eyes.

Slightly sighing, Piero kindly asked:

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I... I don't know."

"As you want. Perhaps it would take a weight off your mind..."

The prince breathed before asking:

"Could you walk with me... please?"

"Sure, of course."

The young man joined Charles, and they started walking through the gardens.

"I don't know how it happened... I should have known that she favored that Parker-Bowles over me! But I still clung to the last straw of hope until I heard of their engagement!"

"I'm sorry for your heartbreak, Charles. But that was another life lesson, even though it hurts..."

The Prince of Wales sadly sighed.

"And as if it was not painful enough, Mother still pressures me to find a suitable bride... Even Father worried about it!"

"You are only 25 years old: you will find her, I feel it!"

"If only my dear parents were as optimistic as you, Piero. But no, they repeated all day long that Father married Mother when he was my age, and I'm exhausted hearing it all the time!"

"What does your grandmother think about it?"

"She says that I should not hurry to find my future wife, because a hasty marriage would inevitably end in a disaster!"

Piero nodded.

"Your grandmother is right, Charles: if you only follow what your duties command, you will bitterly regret your decision for the rest of your life. Of course, you have to find your future Queen, but you must love her as much as she loves you!"

He saw tears forming in Charles's eyes.

"I know but... I feel like everything I do is not enough for my parents. Am I just a good for nothing?"

Instinctively, the young artist knew that he would break the etiquette... but who cares? So, he did hug Charles in a comforting embrace, gently stroking his back.

"It's okay, Charles. I am here."

The prince did not cry, but he felt relieved that someone finally comforted him, so he hugged back Piero.

"I know this is not very formal, but I thought it would help you!"

"To hell with formality! I needed someone listening to me..."

They stopped the hug and Charles stated:

"I understand why Andrew and Edward appreciated you, Mister De Angelis: your patience and your kindness are helpful for the four of us!"

Piero shrugged.

"I just... do what I think is the best for everyone!"

"And I am glad that someone like you ensures our well-being..."

The young man smiled.

"You have no idea how much I am honored to have your trust, Charles. Listen: I will talk with your parents about it, and we will sort it out!"

"Thank you, Piero."

Unbeknownst to the two men, Philip was looking at them from the window of his office. The Duke of Edinburgh smiled while seeing his lover bonding with his son: indeed, he was happy that his four children appreciated Piero. Even though neither of them is ready to tell the princes the truth about their relationship: they have to wait...

In the evening...

"Do you want your son going bonkers? Stop pressuring him about his love life!"

"But he is still unmarried! At his age..."

"Yes, yes, I know the story: at his age, you were already married to Elizabeth!"

Philip pinched the bridge of his nose: Piero and he argued about Charles's single status. His beloved artist thought that his eldest son would go down into depression because of the familial pressure.

"Piero, I understand your concern about Charles, but he knows his duties..."

"Oh, please: don't start lecturing me about duties! If you were that meticulous about duties, you would never choose to cheat on your wife!"

"Don't muddle up things, would you? She started the war!"

"Don't change the subject, would you? We are talking about your son, in case you forget it!"

Piero sighed.

"Charles believed that he felt like a failure towards you. And he can't count on his mother to dismiss his fears! For God's sake, be more supportive of your son!"

"But..."

"No buts! You have to admit that your eldest son is not your carbon copy!"

"I admitted it! But people start talking: he is unmarried, had no official girlfriends, and he prefers attending parties! Rumors are spreading all around the kingdom."

His lover gave him a dark look and said with a cold tone:

"Let me ask you this simple question, Philip of Edinburgh: what matters the most for you? The public image or the well-being of your son?"

Philip stayed silent, much to Piero's displeasure:

"Fine, I see... You know what? You have all night to think about it."

He turned his heels and walked away.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Did you really think I will spend the rest of the night with someone who does not listen to my advice? I really want to help you, Philip, and especially because I love you. But if you don't pull your weight, there is nothing more I can do. Good night!"

As he watched his lover walking away from him, the prince stood, desperate and worried. He messed up everything with his children, and now he messed up his love affair!

Philip sighed: why everything was so complicated? But, he had to acknowledge that Piero was right: he went back to his wrong habits, once again. 

And if he wanted to save what mattered the most to him, Philip had no other choice: he had to repair his faults...

14th November 1973.

The Westminster Abbey bells happily rang in the air. Indeed, the United Kingdom celebrated the wedding of Princess Anne and Captain Mark Phillips. A joyous day for the kingdom, and also for the royal family... Well, almost for Philip. Of course, he was so proud to walk his daughter down the aisle: what kind of father would not be happy for his child on this special day?

But what saddened the prince consort was that Piero barely talked to him since their argument about Charles. He could not blame him: the young man cared more about Charles, Anne, Andrew, and Edward than their own mother. 

As he watched his lovely Anne and Mark exchanging their vows, the prince spotted Piero, sitting near the Duchess of Gloucester. 

He knew that his wife allowed the presence of the young man at the ceremony to look after Edward, who was the page boy of his sister.

Piero was dashing in his pearl-grey suit, his white gloves, and his perfectly combed dark hair. Philip never ceased to be amazed by the angelic beauty of his lover. If only they did not argue 4 months ago, the prince would have already told the young artist how amazing he was.

But the young man was not inclined to speak with him yet, and this situation saddened Philip. 

Meanwhile, Margaret saw the two lovers with a sad smile: she hoped that this argument between Piero and Philip would not last long, as she feared it would break her brother-in-law's heart. She knew that the young Mister De Angelis was the only one for Philip, and she could not let this match made in heaven falling apart. 

Margaret smiled as she got another idea: the wedding reception will be the perfect occasion for a reconciliation...

Soon as they reached Buckingham Palace for the wedding lunch, Margaret whispered to Philip:

"Please, I know that you suffer, but talk to him!"

"I want to, but every time I look in his eyes... I only see anger and sadness. And I am the one who upset him!"

She gently patted his shoulder.

"You know what? Weddings are the best occasion to prove our love... or heal a relationship."

She winked before walking away, congratulating the newlyweds. As he thought about Maggie's musings, Philip smirked: after all, he learned to never give up what he held dear. And he would never give up on Piero... 

Later that day, as the guests were too busy dancing, gossiping, or enjoying food, the prince slipped away from the crowd and wandered in the corridors when he spotted Piero in a room, retouching his make-up. 

Smiling, Philip entered and said:

"Oh, dear: you do not need to change anything. You are already beautiful!"

Startled, the young artist stammered:

"What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, I think.

Piero raised an eyebrow: 

"Really? About what?"

Philip closed the door behind him before answering:

"We need to talk about us. It feels like years since I hold you in my arms..."

"And why you do not hold me in your arms, precisely?"

The prince sighed.

"Because of my stubbornness, we are apart. And I regret it every second since that night. You were right from the beginning, Piero: what is the purpose of your help if I did not listen to your advice? I should have known that you're the right person since you only wanted the best for me. My words might sound hollow, but I will be grateful to you for being here when I felt alone!"

The young man sighed before looking at his royal lover with a sheepish smile:

"I had to confess: at first, I did not speak to you because I wanted to be sure you learned your lesson. But then... I took pleasure letting you stew for a moment."

Philip was shocked.

"Are you bloody kidding me?"

"Not at all. Besides... I already forgive you, my stubborn Viking!"

The prince smirked:

"And they said Arlequin is the trickster in chief... Looks like they underestimated Pierrot!"

"And you love it!"

"Oh yes!"

Piero laughed wholeheartedly. Then, he stated:

"So, you said that you missed the sensation of holding me..."

He opened his arms:

"Why don't we make up for lost time?"

Philip did not need to be asked twice and rushed into his arms, kissing him feverishly. Their hands rediscovered their bodies, every touch drawing breathed moans of pleasure from the two lovers.

"I love you, Piero."

"Ti amo, Philip."

And while the kingdom celebrated the wedding, the prince and the artist rejoiced in their reunion. 

June 1975. Balmoral Castle.

The summer went well for the royal family, and everyone appreciated the peacefulness of the Scottish countryside. For Piero, it was like discovering another place. He was amazed by the soft colors of the countryside and the calm surroundings, far from the lively Londonian life. 

To be honest, he did not expect the Queen to invite him to spend some days at Balmoral, but apparently, Edward insisted, and she accepted. How could he refuse the opportunity to be closer to his dear Philip? 

However, they both tried to be careful as he did not want to be caught by Elizabeth or the Queen Mother. 

But everything changed one day, as Elizabeth left with some of her friends for a horse-riding stroll with some of her friends, and her dear Mister Acherville.

It did not bother Philip, as he took advantage of her absence to spend some time with his dear artist. Once his wife went away, he looked for Piero until he found him in the gallery room, looking at the different pictures hanging on the walls.

Coming near to him, the prince gently held the young man from behind and said:

"Are you judging the quality of the paintings?"

"Well, I have to be honest that the painters were talented. Your wife should add your own paintings!"

"Seriously? She said it would look out of place... Besides, you are far more talented than me!"

Piero chuckled:

"You flatterer!"

"It is the truth! You're my perfect little Da Vinci!"

The young man turned around and put his arms around Philip's neck:

"And you're my handsome Saint John the Baptist with a mischievous smile!"

"You like my mischievous part of me!"

"No, I don't like it... I adore it!" chuckled Piero before kissing his lover.

Amused, the prince answered the kiss with the same passion... until they heard a collective gasp of shock!

They turned around and saw Charles, Anne, Mark, Andrew, and Edward who stood near the door, astounded and silent.

Horrified, Philip stammered:

"I... I can explain everything..."

"You better explain, yes!" said Anne with a cold tone.

Mark closed the door behind them, preventing any gossiping from the staff.

"Now that we are alone, can you explain what happens?"

"This scene does not really need an explanation..." smirked Charles.

Ashamed, the prince started to explain:

"I guess that we do not have the choice. As you have noticed, your mother and I do not have a good relationship for some years. I thought that it would improve, but she decided to spend some time with another man. I was so desperate, and I neglected you - and I am sorry for that. And then, your aunt Margaret introduced me to Piero..."

"Auntie Maggie and her plans!" snickered Andrew.

"You got the point, Andrew. And so, at the very moment I knew Piero, I felt like something changed... To be honest, I felt that I fell in love again. I would be forever grateful to Piero for everything he did for me."

"Was it your idea to hire him as Andrew and Edward's tutor?" asked Charles.

"No, it was again Margaret's idea. And I saw how you felt better since he spends time with all of you!"

"Do you plan to tell us the truth one day?" asked Andrew.

"We aspired to, but I do not want you to see me as an intruder in your family. But I can assure you that I deeply love your father as he loves me!" explained Piero.

The five young people looked at each other before Edward answered:

"You know, Mister Piero, I don't mind if you are in love with Papa. Besides, you love all of us more than Mum does. So, I am happy to have you here with us!"

"He is right: at least, you listen to us and you try to encourage us, unlike Mother!" added Andrew.

"I do not really care about my parents' affairs, as we all know that their marriage is doomed. But now, let's be honest, Piero: you made him happy, and it matters the most for us!" stated Charles with a genuine smile.

"I have to confess that this is quite unusual... But, my dear Anne has a high opinion of you, Mister De Angelis, and so am I. Don't worry, we won't tell anyone about your affair!" smiled Mark.

"You see, Father, we all support you, and we are happy to have Piero with us at Buckingham Palace. So, there is no need to worry." grinned Anne.

The two lovers sighed with relief: at least, they accepted their relationship. 

"Thank you very much!" breathed Philip with a slight smile.

"You're welcome, Father. But, the next time you want to show Piero your affection... Try being discreet!" laughed Andrew.

"He takes that from you, dear!" chuckled Piero.

"I guess so..." sighed Philip, even if he could not help smiling.

It looked like, after all, that they gained new allies... 

27 August 1979.

In his house, Piero was dozing on his couch, reading a collection of poetry works by Oscar Wilde while he listened to some trendy music on the radio.

Suddenly, he heard the voice of a journalist interrupting the music:

"Ladies and gentleman, we interrupt our program as dreadful news has just been released by Buckingham Palace: today, Lord Louis Mountbatten, Admiral of the Fleet and former Viceroy of India, has been killed by a bomb planted aboard his fishing boat while he was spending his holiday with his family in his summer home in Mullaghmore, in the north-west of Ireland. 

We deplored also the tragic loss of his grandson Nicholas Knatchbull and Paul Maxwell, a young local crew member. The remaining people present on the boat when the attack happened, suffered from serious injuries and were transported to the closest hospital..."

Piero dropped his book, troubled: it could not be! He rushed to his phone and dialed Philip's number. After a few seconds, he heard his lover's voice:

"**Hello?**"

"Philip, it's me! I have just heard about your uncle! Is that true?"

The slight sobbing on the other side of the phone answered his question:

"**They... They murdered him, Piero! They killed him! And they took his grandson's life! How dared they?**"

"I am terribly sorry for your loss, my love. I know how much he was a loved one to you..."

After all, Louis Mountbatten was not only the uncle of Philip: he was his paternal figure, a role model he praised so many times. Piero could not imagine how his lover suffered from this tragic loss.

"My condolences, amore mio. You are in my prayers, you and your family. I hope that the injured will recover soon."

"I hope so... Thank you for your call."

"You're welcome. How are the children?"

"Charles is deeply upset, Anne is crying, Andrew cannot believe it, and Edward tried to cope with this tragedy."

"I imagine... Don't hesitate to comfort them."

"I will... I am sorry, but I have to quit: Elizabeth required my help to organize the funeral. I'll call you later."

"Don't worry, it's fine. See you later, my love."

"See you later, angelo mio!"

As he hung up, Piero felt bad for Philip: his lover endured so many hardships in his life that the young man wondered if he can handle this new tragedy... 

5th September 1979.

Sitting in his living-room, Peter watched the funeral of Louis Mountbatten on television. He watched the royal family, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and her husband Denis, and some major figures of the kingdom attending the obsequies, all dressed in black and showing a sad expression on their faces. 

The young man wished he could attend the funeral, just to be here for Philip and comforting him. But it was the mourning of a family, and he did not belong to this family...

Later that day, he heard a knock on his door.

"I don't remember to entertain someone today..." muttered Piero as he opened the door.

Much to his surprise, Philip stood there.

"Philip? But what are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you... Because I have something to tell you. May I come in?"

"Of course!"

The young man stepped aside and let the prince enter the house. Then, he closed the door behind him and asked:

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

"Alright. May I know what are doing here?"

He noticed that Philip held a large box under his arm.

"Hm, what is this?"

The duke sighed before explaining:

"Since the murder of my uncle, I thought about everything that happened in my life, both good and bad memories. And then, I thought about us, and I realize how important you are to me since we started our relationship. I wish I had met you sooner, but there we are. This tragedy casts light on the most significant person in my life: you."

He opened the box, revealing a golden crown before he put the ornament at Piero's feet. Then, he gets on one knee and said:

"You deserve everything, Piero. And moreover, you would be a wonderful consort. That's why I wanted to put a crown at your feet..."

"Wait for a second: it looks like a proposal... But you are already married!"

"I know, I know. I cannot divorce Elizabeth, and I think you understand that. But it is my way to say that I will belong to you, and you only for the rest of my life. And I wanted to know if you feel the same..."

Piero nervously chuckled.

"Oh Lord, that was unexpected!"

He kneeled near Philip and replied:

"I won't ask you to nullify your marriage, because I know what are the consequences. But I am moved by your gesture, and if you want to know, I will never look at someone else the way I am looking at you. I love you, Philip Mountbatten, and it won't change..."

"I love you too, Piero De Angelis." smiled Philip, relieved, before he kissed Piero.

As they tightly held each other, the two lovers felt like the sadness was less oppressive. They had the impression that nothing could tear them apart and they will surpass everything together.

October 1979.

"So, tell me more about this charming girl. What is her name, already?"

"Her name is Diana. Diana Spencer."

"What a lovely name! Is she the daughter of Count John Spencer?"

"Exactly."

Walking through the halls of Buckingham Palace, Charles and Piero were talking about the Crown Prince's new girlfriend, the young Diana Spencer.

"I know that you're dating her for perhaps one month, but how is your relationship?"

"Quite good, to be honest. She is calm, smiling, quite smart... Of course, she had different hobbies than mine but... I guess it's alright."

"I would like to meet her. I can invite both of you to my place if you want."

"It would be a pleasure."

A servant arrived.

"Mister De Angelis."

"Yes?"

"Her Majesty The Queen requires your presence in her office. If you please follow me..."

Piero was intrigued: why would the Queen want to see him?

"Alright, I arrive. See you later, your Highness."

"See you later, Mister De Angelis."

Piero followed the servant until they arrived in front of the door. The man knocked at the door before he announced:

"Mister De Angelis, Your Majesty."

"Perfect, George. Good afternoon, Mister De Angelis."

"Your Majesty," replied Piero.

The servant left the room. 

The young man politely said:

"Your Majesty, I renew my condolences after the tragic loss of Lord Mountbatten... I shall say that I share your pain."

The Queen answered in a neutral tone:

"Thank you for your consideration, Mister De Angelis. However, the pain is not the only thing we share..."

Puzzled, Piero asked:

"May I know what are you talking about?"

She looked at him with contempt:

"Don't you dare think I am a fool, Mister De Angelis? I have learned that you have an affair with my husband!"

Piero stared in amazement: how could she know about it? He was sure none of the children told their mother, neither Margaret nor Philip. So, it must be a servant...

"I am astounded by such accusations, Your Majesty. Your husband and I have only cordial relationships, and that's all!"

"Stop spreading your lies. I know that you are the mysterious person my husband comes to see almost every day."

She came closer to him and snarled:

"I gave you my trust, I even left my children with you, and this is how you thanked me?"

Usually, the young artist would have lowered his head and being ashamed. But this time, he stared defiantly at her and said with a cold tone: 

"Maybe I would be the rudest man in your kingdom, Your Majesty, but I can't stand such hypocrisy. Especially when it comes from someone who hurt her children and cheated on her devoted husband..."

"How dare you?!"

"I can ask you the same. You did not expect that I knew your dirty little secrets, am I right? After all, your lover was not really careful: he put his latest love letter in my office. What a big mistake!"

He restrained himself from smiling as he saw Elizabeth grew pale.

"But, I am a gentleman: I won't tell the media about your romance if you let us alone. Otherwise, the entire Commonwealth will hear about his adulterous Queen..."

"You have some nerve to threaten me as you do, Mister De Angelis..."

"I don't threaten, I warn: this is all the difference. After all, you would not have hesitated to destroy my life. Let's say that we are on equal terms for now..."

Suddenly, Philip and Margaret burst through the door.

"Ah, right in time, Philip. I have just tell Mister De Angelis that I knew about your affair."

As Philip was shocked, Margaret raised an eyebrow.

"And then? It's not like Philip was the only guilty!"

"You were supposed to support me, not to defy me!" snapped Elizabeth.

"How am I supposed to do that, as you enjoy belittle all your family members - it is a miracle that Mother is the only exception. And you deserve what happened..."

"Should I understand that you are behind this?"

"Absolutely, and I won't regret anything I did! And I am so glad that Philip has someone who did what you are supposed to do!"

The Queen fumed as she understood that her sister and her husband joined forces against her.

Philip added:

"You see, Elizabeth: you throw me away, but I won't running after you anymore. I finally find love again, and if you dare to mess up everything, I would not mind telling your friends about your relationship with Acherville."

Seething, Elizabeth raised her head in an arrogant gesture and declared:

"That is not going to happen for long, Philip. You know where your place is, and you will give this entertainer up!"

"I don't think so, dear wife. I am not the one who gives up so easily..."

He smirked.

"Now that you know everything, shall we leave you?"

"You're dismissed. Now, go!" she replied with a short tone.

The trio left the room, a relieved smile on their faces. However, they won't drop their guard, as they knew how embittered Elizabeth can be.

But it looked like she lost the war. Now, it was Philip and Piero's turn to conquer Buckingham Palace... 

To be continued...

N.B: This request is written like an AU and changed many things from the characters to the events. 

Please be kind and comprehensive and don’t snap about it!

Anyway, I hope you liked the story and I am waiting for your requests.

See you soon! 😘😷😍🥰💖

[trailingoff]

And more Good Omens fic recs: July second half

More fic! Following from my June and earlier and July first half reclists, all from my AO3 bookmarks.

G-rated

The 411 by CurrieBelle

And Your Enemies Closer by GoldenUsagi

ask, and ye shall receive by Ariaste

Duh by ToEdenandBackAgain

Something So Magic by apliddell

you play with my feelings (right from the start) by PenroseSun

T-rated

Any Other Name by ignaz

attachment by artenon

Braving Those Angry Skies by ladymerlot

damn.nation, now available on itunes by antistar_e (kaikamahine)

Downpour by forthegreatergood

it's high time that you love me, cause you do it so well by mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday)

Of Celestial Sonnets and Pitiable Poets by triedunture

A Small Quiet Place in My Heart by adelaide_rain

Sticks and Stones by Justkeeptrekkin

when the earth is trembling by stammiviktor

M-rated (possibly NSFW, depends where you work)

Animal Husbandry by thealmightyh

Ink Stains by forthegreatergood

Running in the Shadows (Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies) by soft_october

E-rated (18+ and NSFW)

The 21st Century, In Which They Finally Work It Out by chaya

Born Of Frustration by juliet

Classics Appreciation with A. J. Crowley by yolkinthejump

End with Hope by PepperPrints

In Bondage To Sin by LightningInABottle

I Will Get Up Now And Go About The City by drawlight

let the rivers fill by focusfixated

a most consecrated, consummated, corporal communion by yolkinthejump

One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) by Atalan

That time in Venice by chamyl

There Was Magic Abroad In The Air by jessthereckless (third work in the excellent It’s Not the End of the World, Dear series)

the voice under all silences by ShadyCakes

White Tide by HardlyFair

You, Soft and Only by thehoyden

Unrated

A Nanny? In MY Summoning Circle? by pukner

was blind but now (i see) by queenklu

[aviss]

a year-in-review meme - for writers!

I thought up this writing meme for fic writers who might have been staring at the artists having their lovely and well-deserved collages of their work through the year - and wanted to join in the fun! also this works as a great reminder for those of you (and me) who’ve been thinking that they haven’t been writing as much as they want to, and allows you to go back to enjoy your old fic ;D

Rules: pick your favourite sentence from a work you posted / wrote during a month of 2020! if you didn’t write anything in any particular month, don’t worry! tell us what you were doing or use it as free space for runner-up sentences. after that, tag 8 people or more to do the meme!

I was tagged by the lovely @ladyxxdaydream​ so here is mine:

January:

Matchmaker - Kakashi/Iruka - I just love soft, established relationship for these two. Especially when they have a mischievous side.

On the way back to the living room, Kakashi grabbed him by the waist and pulled until Iruka was wedged between his legs and the table. "Are we going to tell him?" he questioned with a mischievous smile. He moved his hands to cup Iruka's ass, food apparently forgotten, and pressed his face against Iruka's stomach.

"Eventually. We can tease him a bit first."

Iruka felt the vibrations of Kakashi's chuckle against his abs, the warmth of his breath and the fingers pressing just barely on the cleft of his ass incredibly arousing. "You're evil," Kakashi said, approving. "I knew there was a reason I loved you."

"I thought it was because of my ass."

February:

Westeros Most Haunted - Jaime/Brienne - What can I say, I love horror stories. 

They walked as quick as the darkness permitted, running there was as bad an idea as staying still, and clutched each other's hands. "This is the last time I'm filming without a full crew," she said, and as soon as she spoke there a single note began to play, softly at first but gaining volume the same as the noise had before.

She liked it even less than she had the noise.

Jaime's hand squeezed hers hard enough to hurt but she didn't complain. "Oh fuck," was all he said when a second note and then a third followed, then he was moving faster and pulling Brienne with him. "Run, Brienne, run!"

She did, she knew what song was beginning to play and she knew the doors would close when it did.

They didn't want to be trapped on this side of the door.

March:

Ghost in the Machine - Jaime/Brienne - WestWorld AU, because they made it too easy for me to go there.

"There is a war coming," Maeve said. Jaime wasn't surprised. There was always a war, somehow. That thing in Westworld the man had been talking about, the fear in his voice when he had spoken about it that Jaime had ignored at the time. "And I can't fight it on my own."

"Why me?" There had been so many like him, so many other hosts. Jaime knew about war, but only in his little place, in this little fantasy world someone had written for them.

Maeve could have chosen anyone to fight with her.

"Because you are like me, you fought your programing to get back to her the same way I always tried to get back to my daughter. If they hadn't closed this park, you would have eventually got there on your own, I just got you there faster." She handed him the tablet.

April:

D-Rank mission scrolls - Kakashi/Iruka - Iruka in sexy lady clothing, enough said.

Iruka thought about his options; he could run back home and hide under the bed, pack his belongings and flee the village in the middle of the night. Naruto would miss him but he'd always thought he'd make a pretty good missing-nin, though they'd probably send Kakashi after him and he'd die of embarrassment without even giving him a fight. He could also pretend there was nothing out of the ordinary with his attire, as if academy teachers usually dressed in sexy female clothes, apologize to Kakashi and knock on the next door, hoping this time it was Raidou's house. He could also murder Kotetsu for having such appalling penmanship, and the rest of his friends for not being where they should have been.

May:

In Vino Veritas - Kakashi/Iruka - Another of my favourite tropes, second chances

"I almost proposed, once upon a time." He downed his glass and refilled it, using the last of the second jar and signalling for a third. He was feeling the effects of the drink, his tongue loosening, but he didn't mind. Not if it was with Iruka.

Iruka's eyes sharpened on him. "You did? To whom?" There was something in his voice, curiosity and sadness and maybe some jealousy. It was that what made Kakashi think, fuck it, and throw open the can.

"To you."

Iruka closed his eyes as if in pain and downed his glass, refilling it and downing it again.

"I would have said yes." It was Kakashi's turn to drink to ease the lump in his throat. "Do you remember why we broke up?" he finally asked, as if the sake had given him the courage he needed for the question.

June:

The House on the side of the Road - Kakashi/Iruka - again, horror story. Tooke me over four years to finish, but it was worth it.

It was raining. Again.

It was the thing Kakashi hated the most about autumn. The rain, and the chill that settled in the air and made people's mood turn foul, and the fact that Umino Iruka had disappeared on a day not unlike this one, windy and chilly and rainy.

It had been a year since Iruka had failed to return from his mission, practically vanishing into thin air on the road between Ame and Konoha. That same road Kakashi was travelling through now. Kakashi could still remember everything about the day Iruka had been declared MIA, the search party that had been sent to Ame to look for either him or his body. They had returned empty-handed, shaking their heads and declaring Iruka had just vanished into thin air. Without a body, without proof of any attack on him, Iruka couldn't be declared dead. The conclusion, one that didn't sit well with anyone who had ever known him, was that he had deflected, gone rogue.

July:

This Above All - Jaime/Brienne - Jaime coming out as genderfluid with his own parade

That's not the main thing, though. Seeing it like that, hearing the same things Cersei used to tell him growing up has done for Jaime what years of therapy have not managed. He's spent years and thousands of dragons coming to grips with the fact that he's not a freak for feeling sometimes like a woman and wanting soft things for himself, but he hadn't yet found the resolve to take the last step to be fully himself in public and bring the wrath of Tywin over his head.

Now he's angry enough at the treatment of his nephew to get the heir of the Lannister empire, at least until Tywin sees this, on the front page of all magazines dressed as a woman on the pride parade. He has a plan, he's kind of constructed his career around this moment without acknowledging he was doing it, has put the money his mother let him towards his own architecture studio and other small-time investments. Small-time for a Lannister but enough that he doesn't have to fear being left without resources. And neither does his cousin.

Jaime's also contacted an old friend and knows there is a place in the Martell float for him, ensuring maximum visibility because Jaime can do nothing by halves; if he's going to set his life on fire, he wants a bonfire the Seven can see from the heavens.

August:

Just as Sweet (just as thorny) - Jaime/Brienne - Secret identities, second chances, competency kink. It has all my faves

Jaime shouldn't be doing this.

He's going to be fired or punched, more than likely both. It will be no less than he deserves, he's broken the one rule of his department and he was already on shaky ground with Selmy after the whole Baratheon operation fuckup. If this gets back to him, and he doesn't fool himself that it won't, Jaime's as good as out of a job and not even his family name can save him this time. At the very least he'll be reassigned to the fucking Wall unit, something Selmy has been threatening to do for years when Jaime becomes especially obnoxious.

He looks at Brienne, her blue eyes wide and filling with tears, her entire posture radiating hurt and shock and anger and he couldn't care less. If she forgives him and gives him another chance, Jaime will present his resignation himself.

"Jay?" Brienne asks, her voice lost in the din of the club but he's seen her mouth shape that name enough times he can hear her voice in his head, down to the break at the end.

He leans forward again. "Jaime, my name is Jaime."

That's when she punches him.

September:

Skin Deep - Jaime/Brienne - Brienne owns a strip club asn it’s the most oblivious person on earth.

"She shook my hand," Jaime moans into his drink while Pia and Hilda laugh at him. It's Brienne day off and Jaime is there, sitting in her club surrounded by her employees and friends and missing her. Maybe she's really not interested, though he's seen her looking and there have been times when she was blushing and looking at his mouth, that Jaime was convinced he could just lean forward and kiss her and she'd kiss back, then those moments pass and he's back to wondering if he really is so out of practice flirting that she's not realized yet. If she wasn't interested she would just reject his advances, wouldn't she? "You all suck as wingmen and Brienne is the most oblivious person on earth. What do I have to do, dance naked in front of her so she realizes I want her!"

He groans into his drink when he sees the look Pia and Hilda exchange. "That's an excellent idea, Jaime. Roz! Satin! Come here!"

Jaime looks from one to the other and shakes his head vehemently. "No way. I am not doing that."

Famous last words.

October:

Hollow - Jaime/Brienne - The FMA AU I am not writing (and I keep not writing). This one is not posted because it insists on being a multichapter and I refuseto post it until I have at least another chapter done.

"Another fool," a voice says, low and all encompassing, and Jaime turns in the direction it came from to find nothing but a vague shape of a person, almost like a cutout of lines in the whiteness except for deep red eyes and the biggest ruby ever where its throat should be. "Who are you looking for, fool? Lover or family?"

Jaime narrows his eyes at the speaker. "Neither," he says, because Brienne is almost one of those things, but he's never had the courage to examine which one. "Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter, I've had many names since the beginning of time. I'm the World, and The Flames, and Truth, and Magic and Alchemy. I'm Everything and I am Nothing. " The eyes move past Jaime's shoulder and he turns to look, where there was nothing before now a huge door wreathed in flames stands. "And you, fool, are about to learn all I know."

November:

The Drowned Heart - Jaime/Brienne - an Old Guard AU where I make them suffer a lot. 

Brienne pushes herself up on her elbows to see him better. "Will I see you again?" she asks instead of asking him to stay.

"Of course you will, wench, I don't think I can stay away from you forever." He looks at her with some chagrin. "I might kill you again when I do."

"I don't mind," Brienne says, it's the truth. "As long as you kiss me again when I come back."

Jaime closes the distance between them in two quick strides and kneels next to her, hands tangling on her head as he presses their lips together. This kiss is the kind she remembers, the kind they have shared a million times just because they could. It's gentle and sweet, a slow exploration of her mouth, his tongue probing and teasing, and so very arousing. He kisses her, and kisses her until they both run out of breath, and then puts their foreheads together and the look in his eyes is so full of love she wants to cry again.

"I will always kiss you again."

December:

The Prodigal Son - Jaime/Brienne - A view of a good future through the eyes of an outsider. 

Spring had finally come to the Westerlands after the longest and harshest winter in memory, something Celys had not been sure they would live to see. The realm had been ravaged by war and cold and famine, too many people had died during that time, and even those living in Lannisport and the small towns surrounding Casterly Rock had felt the bite of hunger, something not even the Lannister gold had been able to keep at bay.

Now the snow had melted and the sun warmed them again, a new crop had been planted and there was a new Targaryen King in King's Landing, one with the blood of the dragons but raised as a northerner, and the Lord of Casterly Rock was his Hand.

And tagging @albatrossisland @ddagent @sdwolfpup @nire-the-mithridatist @scoundrels-in-love @wildlingoftarth @slipsthrufingers @angel-deux-writes and whoever else wants to do it!