#mims is so darling

[booasaur]

Willow (1988) || Willow (2022) - 1x02

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

What happens in the Apothecary... doesn’t stay in the Apothecary.

When the Core 4 return on the Isle, Harry is just finishing his shopping in Maddy’s Apothecary. It is only natural he decides to steal their bikes and run. It is... probably less natural that Maddy decides to join him and Gil on the ride.

I borrowed Malvina from @tiredflowercrown cos I’ve got plans for this and I think Audrey and Chad would have absolutely marvelous time babysitting Malvina Mim.

Harry stalks through the hovering shelves of Maddy’s Apothecary, idly pushing the odd item just slightly out of its proper place, and only raising the corners of his mouth in a parody of smile when darling Maddy hisses at him. 

Gil sighs as Maddy’s hisses slip into ancient curses – probably – and Harry doesn’t know what’s the fuss about, really.

He’s gonna pay.

Eventually.

Probably. Maybe.

But even so: Uma is not there to see. Uma is not there, and so Harry hardly finds it in himself to care.

He blinks away the memory of her and sweeps away a little package of poisonously coloured candy; it lands with a dull thud. (It doesn’t break and shatter, scatter all around. He isn’t suicidal enough for that, is he?)

„Oops,“ he says with approximately no regret in his voice as he grins at Maddy.

Fine, so maybe he was lying earlier, but can you blame him? There’s no one to hold him accountable for his lies. No Captain to answer to.

For that thought, another package joins the first one on the floor, and a phial disappears into his pocket. He doesn’t bother reading the label.

Gil says something that must be an apology to Maddy, who in turn points to the rules scrawled violently vivid over the grim wall.

We do not give first aid.

We do not give refunds.

Do not ask about correct doses, do not ask about opening hours.

Keep your relationship problems outside. 

Harry giggles: As if Maddy would actually throw him out, what with all the profit he’s been making her lately.  She’s a bitch, alright, but she does have a mind for business, that she does.

She screeches something that sounds suspiciously like „Go have your existential crisis somewhere else and stop sulking about your non-existing love-life in my shop,“ and Harry slips another vial into his pocket.

And he won’t be paying – that’s just what she gets for the love life comment.

Cold-hearted bitch.

Harry gives it a moment of consideration and sneaks another – different – package into his pocket. Maybe if he mixes all this stuff together, it’ll be worth a damn. Worst case scenario, it kills him, and considering his current predicament, Harry figures there are worse things.

He figures not to push his rotten luck any more and disappear the english way before Maddy notices the disappeared proviant; he turns to Gil to tell him so.

„We’re–“ he says before he notices unusual movement outside. It’s barely recognisable through the cloudy, scratched window, but Harry knows a traitor when he sees him. Not that he could mistake the red-black-white of the youngest deVil anyway, no one’s clothes shine like that on the Isle.

Disgusting, if he can say so.

He twists his features into a smirk as he finishes a different sentence than he started: „– going on a field trip!“

A heartbeat of silence, and then: „Maddy, darling, you should join us.“

„And why the fuck would I do that?“

„Also, where are we going?“ adds Gil.

Well, Harry is only too happy to explain: „Oh, why. The traitors are back. They just run by on bikes – we’re gonna nick them and we’re gonna be out in a nick of time, we’re gonna find Uma!“

„Amazing,“ deadpans Maddy, insultingly unimpressed, „Go do that and get the fuck out of my shop.“

Harry blinks as the possible scenarios shift through his mind and no, no, he can’t just jump out there and expect his Captain to do all the work. He ought to figure out some means to find her; he zeroes on Maddy. 

She’s magical, innit, she could find Uma–

She could find Uma, and therefore she must go. He tuts in response to her crude comment and raises on hand: „Oh, sunshine. We can get out. Out is Mal. And magic,“ he raises both of his hands, as if weighting the words, „Mal. Magic. Perfect revenge.“

„…I’m listening,“ allows Maddy reluctantly.

„Amazing,“ Harry states with such amount of poison it rivals some of Maddy’s substances, „Now lets hitch a ride and get the fuck out of there.“

He stalks to the exit, Gil half-a-step behind, but Maddy’s voice stops him.

„Wait.“

Great, what the fuck does that harpy want now?

„Malvina!“ she screams at the top of her lungs, „Move your bones and get up there this instant.“

A scrawny figure scurries just barely into sight and Maddy pulls her into a ray of light. The child blinks in confusion as Maddy says „We’re going out,“ with a decidedly nasty smirk.

Ah, that’s terrific. That little bloodsucker is coming along for the ride – Harry glares at the Mims and mutters curses in a language he thinks the kid doesn’t understand yet though Maddy does, and he makes sure she hears, too. 

She only smirks more as she says: „And if you complain, Hook, I’ll curse your mouth shut so bad not even your beloved Uma will be able to fix it.“

Harry sneers at her. He‘s sure Uma could fix it. She might just decide to wait for that a little bit.

And either way: „Let’s go, there’s no time to loose.“

„No time to die like today.“

„Cheers.“

[sneakyblinders]

a ring & a viscountess.

A/N: you wanted it so here it is! the engagement story/a story of Tommy & the Mrs early days together! I still am undecided on giving her an official name don't hate me! warnings: sexual themes, language, alluding to smut but no smut. not canon. a part of my tommy & his darling wife au. I take no credit for the GIF! 3.4k words.

The phone at Watery Lane rang early one Friday morning. Thomas had just left for Charlie’s Yard, and you were alone for the first time that day. Your brow furrowed, curious as to who it could be. 

“Hello?” you answered the phone, trying to shake the grogginess from your voice. Thomas had kept you up rather late the night before. 

“Ah, bloody hell,” a voice from the other line cursed. “Good morning, my darling! I’ve just had a phone installed at the estate and I’m trying to figure it out–” there was some scuffling on the other end. “That’ll be all, thank you,” you could hear her say to some butler in the background. “And I figured this was as good a time as any to call you and demand you bring that gangster you’ve found yourself infatuated with to dinner at the Estate.” 

It was your great grandmother, the dowager viscountess of the Pearson Estate. “Mimzy,” you start. 

“No! I will have none of that. My dear, I am dying, over ninety now, and I must meet this man you deem worthy of your affections.” she tells you. 

“You’re not dying, Mim,” you chide, rolling your eyes. 

A pause on the other end of the line, feeble breathing. “But I am, dear. The doctors did not give me good news last week. Please, come see me.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Alright, I will discuss it with Thomas when I see him this evening.” you promise her.

“Phone me when you know you’re coming so I can have the rooms ready.” she tells you. 

Your stomach was in knots when Thomas returned home to the Shelby family home on Watery Lane that evening. “Evening, darling.” he says, pressing a small kiss to your cheek before heading straight for the stove, starving after a long day. 

You’d made stew and potatoes, two of his favorites. “Hello,” you say quietly, nervously fiddling with your hands as he scoops his bowl full. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, eyeing you warily. 

“Thomas, there’s something I have to tell you,” you say as he sits down at the table. His heart begins to beat faster, unsure of where this conversation was going. “Something about my family I’ve never shared.” 

“Alright,” he says, angling his body towards you. “Tell me, darling.” 

“My mothers grandfather was a viscount,” you begin slowly as his eyes widen. “But due to–circumstances, the title and fortune has been disrupted from the family line,” you continue, Thomas’ brow furrowing in confusion at your vagueness. “But my great grandmother still holds the title and the estate until her death, and she called this morning and asked that you and I go to see her. She is dying, and would like to meet you.” 

Tommy sat back in his chair, eyes looking past you, processing this large amount of information you’d just dropped in his lap. “Alright, we’ll go.” 

“We will?” you ask in shock. 

“Of course, but,” he stops, leaning in towards you and taking your hands. “Tell me the story.” he smiles at you, a knowing smile. A smile of: tell me what you didn’t want to say when you first dropped this on me, my love.

You smiled before launching into your story. “My great grandfather, the viscount, was forced to marry my great grandmother. They had a loveless marriage. So loveless, that my grandmother brought a footman who she was undoubtedly in love with from her parents home in Kent to the Estate. They had a lifelong affair and it was never really known if my grandfather’s father was the viscount or the footman,” Tommy’s eyes widened as he ate his dinner. “My great grandfather had many affairs with the maids. And so, my grandfather, seeing the turmoil that his mother endured from being forced to marry someone who she was not in love with, vowed he would only marry for love. And he did. He married my grandmother, and they were married for forty years before she passed away, and he made sure every one of his children married someone they loved. Now in doing that, of course, the estate is no longer destined to be in our family line, it will go to some cousin or something, but my mother says she doesn’t care. She would rather have happiness than the whole estate. And I agree.” 

Tommy set his spoon down in his now empty bowl and leaned towards you. “So what you’re telling me is–” he takes your hands in his. “If we get married, it’s because you’re madly in love with me?”

You smile. “Yes, Thomas.” 

“Good,” he tells you, reaching down to the bottom of your chair and pulling you closer to him. “Because my darling, I am madly in love with you.” he takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply. 

The next Friday, you and Thomas set out for the Estate. You had phoned Mimzy, who was elated that you were coming. She said the rooms would be ready by the afternoon and requested that you both join her for dinner that evening. And she specifically requested a meeting with Tommy alone before dinner. Tea, to be exact. 

“Thomas, she can be rather harsh,” you warned him. 

“I can handle it, darling, I can,” he promised, squeezing your hand, refocusing on the winding country roads in front of him. 

An hour later, the Pearson Estate came into view. A large, red brick building, surrounded by gardens in the front, rear and sides. Your heart quickened. It had been years since you had been here. The last few times you’d seen Mimzy, she had made the trip to London to see you and your family. 

Nigel, one of the few butlers who remained, assisted you in getting out of Tommy’s car. “It is wonderful to see you again, m'lady,” he said. 

“Nigel,” you said softly, looking the older man in the eyes. “I’m so glad you’re still with Mimzy.” 

“I am fortunate she has allowed me the honor of residing here still.” he said, flashing you a small smile. 

“Thomas,” you called out to Tommy, who was looking up at the building, squinting into the sun. “Thomas, this is Nigel, the head butler. He has been with Mimzy for decades,” you gush. “Nigel, this is Thomas Shelby, my uh–” you stammer at what title to give him. Love interest is too sterile, boyfriend is too childish, and fiance undetermined. 

“I’m her fiance.” Tommy said, offering his hand to Nigel to shake. Your eyes widen in shock. Not so undetermined. 

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Shelby. Right this way, I will show you to your rooms.” Nigel said, leading the way through the hallways. 

Tommy observed everything with wide eyes, hands clasped behind his back. “How will I remember how to get around?” he joked, a faint smile on his lips. 

You smile. “I’ll help you.” 

“M’lady, your room, as it always has been.” Nigel said, opening the door to what was always your room when you came to stay at the Estate. It looked untouched, which was typical of Mimzy. Never ruining a good thing, is how she liked to think of it. “Mr. Shelby, your room is down the hall a ways, please follow me.” 

“Thomas,” you call to him gently. “I’m going to rest for a little while, I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Yes, my love.” he tells you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before following Nigel down the hallway to his room. 

Tommy had a few minutes to freshen up before he was to meet the dowager viscountess for tea. He shaved, combed his hair, reapplied aftershave and cologne and ensured his shoes were cleaned from driving. 

Nigel appeared at his door a few minutes before his appointment to lead him to the tea room. 

“This way, Mr. Shelby,” Nigel said, escorting Tommy once more through the halls of this grand estate. Nigel knocked on a set of double doors, waiting to hear a response before opening them. “M’Lady, Mr. Thomas Shelby.” 

Tommy walked through the doors apprehensively, met with a small and frail old woman. “Thomas,” she said, almost in a sigh. She stood up. “It is a pleasure to meet you, please, come.” 

He approached her, kissing her hand as she held it out to him. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.” he said genuinely. 

“My Bee speaks very highly of you,” she said, narrowing her eyes at her. 

“Bee?” he asked curiously, the pet name you’d introduced yourself to him with making his heart swell.  

“Aah yes, a–a pet name of sorts I gave to her when she was just a little girl. She used to love to go out with her grandfather, my son, to the beehives. It just sort of stuck I suppose.” the older woman rambled on. 

“She never told me of the hives.” Thomas said, making a mental note to tease you about it later–and to chide you for never telling him the origin of your nickname. 

The viscountess let out a disgruntled “Hmph,” before sitting back down. 

The ladies maid, who he had heard Nigel call Hilda, poured them each a cup of tea before excusing herself out of the room.

“Thank you for your invitation,” Tommy said, the awkwardness settling in. 

“Well, as I am sure my Bee told you, I am dying,” 

“Yes, she did, I am very sorry to hear it, Ma’am.” Tommy said sincerely.

“Please, call me Opal.” she waved him off. 

“Yes, Opal.” Tommy smiled at her. 

“But yes, Thomas, I am dying, and I wanted to see for myself this man who has entranced my youngest great-grandchild. She is my favorite. But don’t tell the others in the event you see them before I die.” she rolled her eyes. “I hear you’re a businessman of sorts.” 

“Yes, I am.” he responded proudly. 

“And I hear your business involves some dark activities.” she said, eyes clouding over with darkness. 

“It is the nature of all business at one point or another, is it not?” he responded. 

“Let me see here,” she said, picking up her glasses and a piece of paper. “Bookmaker, racketeer, gambler, gangster, gang leader, smuggler, vandal, and decorated veteran of the British Army,” Tommy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Does that sum it up, Mr. Shelby?”

Tommy looked Opal in the eyes before saying confidently, “It does, Ma’am.” 

She slammed her piece of paper down on the table next to her, sitting forward in her chair. “And you have the gall to disrupt her simple, successful life and bring her to ruin for what reason, Mr. Shelby?” Thomas started to open his mouth, but was cut off. “She is a good girl, a good, honest, smart girl who would make any normal man very happy. She is beautiful and her spirit is a good one and I will not see that spirit ruined and tainted by the darkness you allow and welcome into your life. You put her at risk every day that you are with her, and I am not fond of you inviting her to live with you prior to even a formal proposal, it’s terribly improper,” the dowager viscountess was trembling, anger coursing through her veins. “I will ask you, Mr. Shelby, and you have one opportunity to answer this question, and one opportunity alone. Why would you risk ruining her life?”

Tommy swallowed the lump in his throat. “It is because I love her very deeply, Ma’am. For all the reasons you said yourself. She is bright and beautiful and the happiest woman I know,” he chuckled to himself. “She makes me a better man and my life has been far richer with her in it. I do not deserve her, but she is everything to me.”

Opal sat back in her seat, struck with Tommy’s words. “That is one of the most romantic and thoughtful things I have heard a man say in a long time, Mr. Shelby,” she said, eyes softening. “But I still think it’s improper that she is sleeping in your room with you.” 

“It’s uh–more cost efficient than her keeping her flat.” he said, bringing his tea cup to his lips to prevent the viscountess from seeing the smirk on his face. 

“I suppose it is but doesn’t the proper order of a courtship matter in this day and age?” she asked. “And I may be old but I am not stupid, I know if she is sleeping in your home, you have laid with her, so I certainly hope you plan to make her your wife.” 

Tommy nearly spat his tea out at the older woman's frankness. “I do, Opal. I plan to make her my wife soon, actually.” he said, bringing a small blue velvet box out of his pocket. He opened it, revealing a large and beautifully cut diamond on a gold band. The viscountess smiled. 

“Well done, Thomas,” tears came to her eyes. “I am glad that my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren can marry for love.” 

“That is due to your sacrifice, and I thank you.” Tommy told her, putting the ring safely back in his pocket. 

She looked away from him, towards a small photo on the table to her right. It was an old, old photo of a young man. “This was my Phillip,” she said, a faraway tone to her voice. “That,” she pointed to an oil painting behind Thomas, “Was the viscount. Witford. Phillip was a footman that my parents employed at their estate in Kent. We fell in love as teenagers, and I could not bear the thought of not being near him. So, when my parents married me off to the viscount, I insisted that as a gift to my new household, I brought the best footman in our home. My parents reluctantly conceded, and I was forever grateful. Oftentimes I would pretend in my own mind that Phillip was the viscount and all of this was ours. He worked here until he died, a few years after the viscount did. I have never felt more lonely in my life.” Questions whirred in Tommy’s mind. “And to answer the question I know is in your mind, I do believe my son was Phillips' son. They are built alike, and far too similar in nature for it to be a coincidence.” 

They continued to speak until the dinner bell rang, and you descended down the stairs for dinner. You were wearing a pale yellow dress, one Tommy hadn’t seen you in. He took your hand as you reached the end of the stairs, eyes softening as he smiled at you. “You look beautiful.” he told you, causing a flush to break out across your face and neck. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, eyeing him nervously. “How did tea go?”

“It went well.” he smiled softly, the ring burning a hole in his pocket. 

Dinner went well, Thomas following the brief rules that you had told him about fine dining manners on the car ride. 

“My Dearest Bee,” Mimzy said, when she stood up to retire for the evening. “This is a fine young man you have found and I like him very much. Goodnight to the both of you.” she smiled slightly before she walked out of the dining room towards her quarters. 

“I’m not tired yet, can we go for a walk?” Tommy asked you, coming up behind you from where you stood at the window, his hands on your hips, lips on the side of your neck.

“That would be nice,” you say, eyeing the night lights that Mimzy had installed outside in one of the gardens. “Come with me.”

You lead him through various hallways that all looked the same to him, and out a side door that led to a garden. It was illuminated by small lights leading to a swing by one of the small ponds on the property. The frogs were croaking, bugs buzzing. It felt like a true spring evening from childhood. 

He walked in silence next to you, nerves building. You finally sat down on the swing and Tommy picked up a couple of stones, skipping them across the surface of the pond. You giggled. “I never could manage to learn how to do that.” 

He chuckled. “John would always get so mad because I could get mine to go farther than his.” 

You settled back into a comfortable silence before you thought to ask, “What did Mimzy want to talk to you about?” 

Tommy dug his hands in his pockets. “She wanted to ask– wanted to ask why I would risk ruining your life.” 

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

He turned around to face you. “She wanted to know what a gangster like me,” he walked towards you. “Wants with a smart, beautiful girl like you,” He dropped to one knee in front of you, pulling your hands into his. “And I told her that I love you deeply, so deeply that I want to spend the rest of my days with you,” he pulled the box out of his pocket, willing his hands not to shake. “My Darling, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” 

Your hands flew to your mouth, covering the shock that spread across your features. “Thomas!” you exclaimed. “Thomas, yes! Yes!” you held out a shaking hand and he slid the ring on your finger. He stood up, and you stood up with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. 

When he pulled away, he looked into your eyes and told you that he loved you. Tears pricked at your eyes and you couldn’t help but kiss him again. 

The next morning, you woke up with Tommy in your bed, smoking a cigarette, eyeing you lovingly as you came to consciousness. You’d brought him back to your room last night, Mimzy’s rules be damned, and ridden him until you both were exhausted from the day and from pleasure. 

Your legs ached as you stretched for the morning, the sunlight threatening to stream in through the curtains. “Good morning,” he rasped, stubbing out the last of his cigarette and rolling in towards you, pulling your body into his. 

“Good morning, Mr. Shelby,” you giggled, his cold hands on your sides. “You’re cold.” 

“Always cold, Dearest.” he said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, his hands dipping between your legs.

“Thomas,” you stifled a moan. “The servants will be awake, we can’t risk them hearing,” you chide. 

“I once heard that they were paid to not hear things, as well.” he drawled low in your ear, turning you on your back and crawling atop you. 

“Thomas, did you bribe the staff?” you ask, hands on his chest. 

“I may have given them a few extra pounds to let us sleep past nine,” he smirked before disappearing beneath the blankets. 

You were certain some things were heard, there was no way they weren’t. With the way Thomas pleasured you, it was nearly impossible to keep quiet. You’d known no other lover in your life but you were certain you were ruined for the prospect of any other lover not living up to these standards that Thomas had set. 

You smiled to yourself at the thought. Tommy caught you smiling and asked, “What are you thinking about?” as he tied his tie. 

“Just that I’m certain you’ve ruined me for any other man.” you smiled. 

He smirked. “Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re getting married because you’ve ruined me for all other women,” he tucked his tie into his waistcoat. Thoughts of you beneath him, above him, kneeling in front of him whirred in his mind. He willed those thoughts away, needing to ensure he had a clear head to meet the viscountess for breakfast this morning. 

You smiled at him as he pulled his jacket on, coming up behind him and smoothing the fabric down over his shoulders. “You’re very handsome, Thomas.” You looked at your reflection in the mirror. A minor flush crept across his cheeks. “Are you embarrassed by my compliment, Thomas?” you ask, standing in front of him, blocking his view of the mirror. 

He cleared his throat. “No,” he looked at you, hands on your hips. “Just not used to hearing things like that is all.” 

You smile softly at him, cupping his cheek with your hand. “Well get used to hearing it, Thomas, because I’ll tell you for the rest of our lives.” 

And tell him, you would. 

[itsgrimeytime]

Magnolia in May (Part Fourteen) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13...

MiM Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @belaballs @curlycarley @queenie32 @mgparker

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: drama, yelling, crying, death mention, dueling mention, gun violence mention, mentioned infidelity, and angst.

[[A/N: Drama, have you ever wanted a man to duel over you??? Well, you just might get thatttt, you'll have to see :)))!!! Also, I know I promised The Nurse next, but my one true love regency drama got in the way. I'm so sorry!!! But soon, I swear. Enjoy this, for now, ly all <3 ]]

You hadn't heard it from him. That was what had bothered you the most, really, is that you heard through someone else -the whispers of the street. They had graced your ears before he had even stepped to tell you.

Your Headmistress was frozen, words that you couldn't hear echoing through the air and it almost felt like the entire square froze. Like the world had frozen right as your heart stuttered in your chest, your ears ringing, and your hands were shaking-

"Darling? Darling-" Headmistress was all you could see -big brown eyes peering at you in a concern you felt was rather unmatched, "-hey look at me, will you? 'Can't have you fainting in the square-"

Her voice wasn't her anymore, rather, a sort of muffled noise in the back of your head. Your throat felt dry, and suddenly, it felt as though you couldn't breathe. Like your lungs were tied with a rope, and no matter how hard you tried, they would not fill. Something in your head spun and your stomach twisted -a fear that gripped you unlike anything else you'd ever been afraid of.

The words, although they seemed to be in a tone you knew to be gossip, felt so real -bouncing around your skull.

"There is to be a duel in two days' time. The Grimes heir and the man who captured the heart of his estranged wife! Just dreadful."

"A little late for such a battle, is it not?"

You didn't know the women who spoke them, all big hats and lacy dresses -any feature you could see didn't ring to be familiar. The two spoke as if it were nothing. As if he wasn't... As if that wasn't a life-

"I'd hate to be the mistress."

"Darling," you felt hands holding your arms -guiding you, "-let's return to the carriage at once, such trips can happen later-"

You couldn't even remember the purpose now, your mind a rather foggy place, and all you could really hear was the pounding of your heart in your chest. It was a heavy sort of thud that rattled your head, and your breathing could hardly catch up. Yet, the Headmistress's steps were sure and evenly tempered -quick as to not let anyone see you in such a state. There were already rumors about your family, they truly didn't need to know more.

Before you could truly blink, you were brought into the carriage -the door shutting effectively silencing your brain. The buzz of the crowd was now not overwhelming, and yet, you still felt as if the wind had flown out of your lungs. Like the ground had crumbled beneath your feet like your entire world had shifted-

"Y/N dear, please, breathe."

You blinked, swallowing, fingertips brushing against the cushioned seats -bringing yourself down. Each breath is a slow, deep inhale, and your nails push into the fabric to keep you there. To steady you, as the roar of your heart became timid in the silence -quiet.

"D-Did you know?" you asked -slowly and shaky, there was something in your throat-

"No," she answered quickly, "-no. I know I've done my misdeeds, but believe me when I say this... This is something I would've told you."

"Do you-" you started, "-do you believe there could be truth to it? Could he-"

"Stop, no. We'll get nowhere with such conspiracies," Headmistress shushed, sitting forward to open the door ever-so-slightly -speaking to the driver, you assumed, "-it's best we hear it directly from the source."

That brought you to now, the Headmistress guiding you by the arm up the stairs to the Grimes estate -her stance was one of anger, and each worker almost seemed to be widely avoiding the both of you because of it.

Her face had twisted into a rather sour frown, the wrinkles in her face more prominent than you had ever seen them - a heavy furrow resting upon her eyebrows. It was all pinched together -you could feel such frustration, and you were sure if she had not held you by the arm, you would've run in the other direction as well.

And it only pushed forward, through doors through startled faces and orders halted on their lips -you were quite sure you had seen Mr. Dixon somewhere along the mix. You weren't focused though, everything grew rather blurry as tears began to gather behind your eyes -you merely wiped them away. You couldn't give any extra thought to them. You had too much to think about, too much-

Headmistress pushed open the door to his office like it was a public ladies' room, like she had every right to be there and like it was her own. Her face had not let up a smidge, the sour look only grew more bitter by the moment -the frown pulled further down her face and her hand grasping you ever so tighter. Mr. Grimes startled for a moment, standing at his feet at the sight of you -almost like he couldn't help it.

His eyes dipped to your red cheeks, evidence of you crying, and you watched the flex of his hand -as if he wished to wipe them away himself. Something in your stomach twisted.

"Ms. Elisa, Ms. Greene-" he breathed out -something like concern hidden deep in his tone, "-a lovely surprise. If you would've let me, I would've walked the two of ya in-"

"Mr. Grimes," your Headmistress interrupted -strong and confident, unwavering, "-we have come upon some rather disparaging news. I wish to have you settle the truth of such things."

He stilled, slightly, a leak of his composure and you were certain it had gone under Headmistress's radar but it hadn't your own. You could tell such things, his eyes spoke volumes but learning his tics had been something delightful for yourself. It felt rather distant now.

Your mouth opened before you could rationalize it, "Headmistress? May I... May I speak with him alone?"

She paused, brown eyes turning to you -flickering over your figure, "If you wish to, of course, dear, but-"

"I wish to," you answered, frankly, the sniffle of your nose rather loud in such a thick layer of tension, "-I believe I shall ask him such things on my own."

"If you insist," Headmistress frowned slightly, before squeezing your arm once -comforting, and stepping aside, "-I'll be by the door."

She spoke only to you, rather cold to the man in the room, but you knew of her reasons. She was always stubborn in such things, especially with things considering you or your sisters. You, briefly, wondered how long it would take her to forgive such faults.

Mr. Grimes spoke first, a sort of desperate plea hanging out in the empty air, "Ms. Greene-"

You sniffled, wiping at the bottom of your eye -hoping to clear up what you had shed, "Mr. Grimes, I believe you know why I'm here."

There was a long silence then, as he merely looked over you and you saw his hand fidget over his handkerchief for a split second before falling to his side once more. He looked at though he itched to approach you then, to care for you. You truly weren't sure how to feel.

"I do," he responded -finally.

"Then," you cleared your throat from the biting back of a sob, "-you must know of what I'm asking."

"I do..."

"Tell me," you started, slow and you could already feel the tears build up again, "-Tell me if it's true."

He spoke, a low, tired tone, "Ms. Greene, I never intended-"

"Do you not wish me to believe it?" you questioned, the silence in the room a thick layer of tension draped over the air -it almost felt choking.

He faltered, "Ms. Greene..."

"Then, tell me it isn't true. Tell me that it's all made up and I shall believe you-" you spoke in a rising sort of pitch before it all fell once more -desperation edging along your words, "-But... I believe you cannot tell me such a thing is a lie."

Mr. Grimes remained silent then, eyes rather downcast and despite his standing, he still felt sunk in. Hiding, ashamed. Like he had known this was the outcome.

And... perhaps he did.

Something in your chest snapped, despite asking, you hadn't expected the answer, "It's true, isn't it?"

"He spoke to me soon after ya left my estate," he spoke, a sort of desperate sort of tone -explaining, "-wouldn't leave until I spoke to him."

"He challenged you."

"He wasn't..." he sighed, a deep sort of heavy one, "-I could tell he wasn't of a right mind. I should've refused to speak to 'im-"

"What of the children?" you spoke, it all sounded sort of hollow now, "-what of... What of me, if you... if you-"

"Ms. Greene," he hummed, carefully, slowly, "-I hadn't... I didn't believe anyone had heard him. I didn't- I hadn't answered, he wasn't of the right mind. And then-"

"Someone heard you," you spoke, gathering the path on your own, "-and you were proposed again."

"Yes," he continued -defeated, almost, "-and a man propositioned to a duel would be a fool to refuse."

"You would be an alive fool," you spoke, now close to him -hands itching to reach out, to feel him beneath your fingertips, warm, breathing, "-alive."

"Y/N, please."

"Don't," you relented, "-don't speak as if you don't have a choice. You do."

"It is a matter of honor," Mr. Grimes continued -heavy with purpose, "-and I won't 'ave my name dragged through the dirt by someone who I used to trust the most."

"You wished to marry me," your voice broke -something in you grieving, "-how am I to marry a dead man?"

"Y/N, I wish to marry you, presently. This does not change-"

"No, I-" you cleared your throat, stepping back a measured few steps -clearing your throat, "-I cannot be promised to a man who may be dead in a few days' time. You must understand my worry."

"'Course, I do," he answered, moving forward the steps you took back staying within your space, "-I... I cannot imagine."

"And yet," you responded -broken and angry, "-you instill such an experience on me. On your children?"

"Ms. Greene-"

"I just wish to understand," you hummed -something forlorn in your tone, "-but I'm not certain I ever will."

"It's not-" he started, before breaking off, "-I did not think of it 'at way, but you... I can't-"

"I love you," you echoed, "-and if I... It's too short, I wish to have it much longer."

"You will," Mr. Grimes spoke -desperately, "-you will."

"It's one thing to say and another to know, Mr. Grimes."

"Y/N-"

"No, I-" you cleared your throat -straightening slightly, and dabbing at your eyes, "-I have things to attend to."

"Please, don't leave on such a note-"

"Mr. Grimes," you spoke lightly -tears gathering behind your eyes, "-I love you, truly beyond belief. Stay alive."

"Y/N..."

"Please, I-" you breathed out -voice shaking, "-I can't... I can't stay here any longer."

Mr. Grimes opened his mouth, but you couldn't listen, not then. Mind running a mile a minute, your brain seemed to fuzz along the edges. You swore you were getting dizzy-

You merely curtsied and headed out of the office. You heard him, calling to you, but you refused to turn back -something in you ripped open and vulnerable, you needed to go home. And perhaps such a thought was selfish, leaving such a man begging for you to speak.

But, you couldn't. Not now. The weight of a bullet heavy on your brain, you couldn't look him in the eye with the possibility it might be the last time-

The last time, it bounced around your head and didn't stop. Even when the Headmistress rushed to your side -keeping up with your footsteps, even on the carriage ride home, even in your bedroom that night -staring upon the dark vast ceiling. Maggie was just beside you -comfortably asleep; you, on the other hand, tugged the blanket tighter around yourself.

Hoping for dreams of a berry basket and blue eyes, in a much simpler world. Just you and him in a market stall. Where had such thoughts gone?

[imagines-1directioner]

I’m here for you - with Liam Payne

Situação: marido!amoroso!Liam Payne x Leitora

Contagem de palavras: 1070

Sinopse: Quando S/N entende que o relógio da vida está acelerando, Liam se torna fundamental para acalmar a garota com seu jeito fofo e romântico.

N/A: Trouxe problemas da vida real para causar por aqui rsrsrsrs. Eu escrevo muito sobre vivências/sentimentos meus, e dessa vez escrevi um imagine leve mas com questões necessárias que acho interessante termos noção e entendermos que nossos sentimentos, assim como tudo na vida, precisa ir devagar. Esse ano tô reflexiva KKKKKKK Espero que gostem e me digam o que acharam! Ansiosa para saber a opinião de vocês, tanto sobre a leitura quanto sobre o tema! beijuuuuss

curte e reblogue o post para me ajudar 🫶

Já era fim de tarde quando resolvi preparar um chá de camomila. Precisava de algo bem leve e que de fato me acalmasse depois da bomba que recebi logo de manhã. Outra amiga do grupinho estava grávida. A vida está passando, voando para ser mais exata, e eu não havia me decidido qual seria a minha vontade quando o assunto �� filhos. A situação em si me apavora. Muitas perguntas em minha cabeça, muitos medos, anseios, desejos… um tormento! E quando a ansiedade se instaura em mim, nem se eu quisesse muito conseguiria esconder.

- Fazendo jus ao chá da tarde inglês, darling? - sou tirada de meus pensamentos quando ouço a voz e sinto um corpo aproximar-se do meu.

- Uhum. - respondo sem muito ânimo, com os olhos centralizados na chaleira de vidro em ebulição. Lindíssima por sinal.

- Ixi, que que foi, hein? Tá tensa. - ele me conhecia bem, e pela postura fechada com braços cruzados era suficiente para entender que tinha algo de errado comigo.

- Nada não.

- Até parece. - Liam bufou fraco e deu a volta, ficando frente a frente a mim. - O que aconteceu? - fecho o olho esquerdo e chacoalho a cabeça como se dissesse “deixa quieto”, mas ele ignorou. - Brigou com alguém?

- Não.

- Brigaram com você? - o moreno consegue arrancar uma risadinha minha e novamente eu nego. - Por que você tá assim, criatura?

- Tô triste.

- Triste?

- E com medo. - resmungo, desviando o olhar para o chão.

- E tá assim por quê? - devagarzinho sinto suas mãos levantarem minha cabeça a fim de que olhasse para ele, para então acariciar minhas bochechas com o polegar.

- Casey está grávida.

- Mais uma?

- Exatamente! - talvez o meu receio também fosse o dele.

- Uau.. - a chaleira começa a apitar e logo desligo a boca do fogão.

- Tá tudo acontecendo tão rápido, tão depressa que eu não consigo acompanhar.

- Você quer engravidar também?

- Não! - falo em um tom mais alto enquanto pego a minha xícara favorita de chá, diretamente da Disneylândia, coleção da Bela e a Fera. Foi quando vejo a louça lúdica, colorida e fofa que minha ficha cai, a expressão muda e a fala volta atrás. - Quer dizer, eu quero.. mas não sei ainda se realmente quero. Aí, tudo muito confuso. - escuto Liam rir e ele vem até mim, envolvendo-me em um abraço apertado.

- A gente pode tentar, se você quiser.

- Esse é o ponto! - ele me solta e volto a preparar meu chá, colocando as ervas e água quente na xícara para infusionar. - Eu não sei se estou pronta.

- Não acho que as pessoas saibam que estão prontas para serem pais.

- Muitas delas planejam os filhos, Liam. - o silêncio significava a falta de argumentos. - Ao mesmo tempo que eu quero, eu não quero.

- E por que isso te chateia? É algo tão comum.

- Porque todo mundo que eu conheço está criando uma família. E eu tô aqui! - esbravejo e o moreno me encara com a sobrancelha arqueada.

- Amor, você está se comparando de novo. - tento esquivar da realidade tomando o primeiro gole da bebida após coá-la. - Você me pediu para te avisar quando isso acontecesse.

- Eu sei! - digo brava. - Mas é impossível não se comparar quando o mundo insiste em seguir certas fases da vida. Eu me sinto empacada em situações assim.

- Quem disse que é uma regra ter filhos para ser uma família?

- O mundo. - ele dá um sorriso como se eu tivesse dito uma bobagem e nega.

- Para com isso. Tá tudo bem você não querer ter filhos.

- Meus pais esperam netos, Liam.

- Claro, porque eles foram criados dessa forma, é inevitável. Mas e você? Você espera ser mãe? - fiquei pensativa novamente, coçando a cabeça em silêncio até sentir um nó na garganta. - Não encha esses olhinhos de lágrimas que eu não aguento. - seus braços envolvem-me novamente e ao seu toque eu desmorono ali mesmo.

- É muita pressão, amor.

- Eu sei, meu bem. Sinto muito por isso. - as mãos grandes afagam meu cabelo de forma carinhosa.

- Eu queria ser mãe, até entender que tudo muda quando isso acontece. E eu odeio mudança!

- Mas você sabe que é necessário.

- Para de ser clichê!

- Desculpe.. - a vozinha baixa me fez rir um pouco.

- Apesar disso tudo, deve ser tão gostoso ter um bebezinho só seu para cuidar, dar carinho, sentir esse amor diferente.

- Deve mesmo.. - o suspiro dela após a fala deixou-me ainda mais receosa sobre tudo. Eu não seria a responsável por destruir o sonho do meu marido.

- Você quer ter uma família, não quer? - ainda colada nele, olho para cima com o queixo apoiado em seu peitoral para que conseguisse enxergar sua face.

- Minha família é você, querida. - Liam deixa um selinho calmo em meus lábios. - Com filhos ou sem. - ficamos um momento em silêncio enquanto ele limpava meu rosto molhado com os polegares e colocava mechas do meu cabelo atrás da orelha. - Sinto que essa escolha pesa mais para você do que para mim, entende? - eu assinto. - Não posso te obrigar a ser mãe, isso não cabe a mim. Você é quem “sofrerá”. Eu sou o coadjuvante nisso tudo. - embora a ansiedade ainda fizesse parte de mim, um certo alivio invadiu-me ao perceber que escolhi o cara certo para ser a minha família.

- Eu te amo, sabia?

- Você é muito doidinha. - Payne solta uma risada e me beija.

- Viu..

- Hum..

- Você já me disse que gostaria de ser pai.

- Sim. Mas já tive a mesma crise que você.

- E o que você fez?

- Alguém muito sábia uma vez me disse que o melhor remédio para as crises é o dom da espera. - ele estava falando de mim e claro, eu sorri, enxugando as novas lágrimas que caíram, agora de emoção. É, eu estava na TPM. - É difícil, extremamente difícil. Mas com o tempo tudo vai fica mais claro. - ele me acalma. - Não precisa decidir agora como vai ser o seu futuro só porque as pessoas que te cercam decidiram os delas. A vida não é uma competição, benzinho.

- E se quando eu achar que agora é a hora de engravidar não dar mais tempo?

- Você está muito acelerada. Acalme-se antes de tudo, respire fundo e só então você terá discernimento para escolher qual rumo tomar.

- Essa espera me agoniza.

- Mas eu tô aqui para minimizar está angústia, seja do jeitinho que for. Nunca vou sair do seu lado. - de fato o cara perfeito!

- Eu te amo mesmo, sabia?

- Eu também, babe.. amo profundamente!

______________________________________________

Feedbacks são sempre bem-vindos e de extrema importância para quem escreve. Se possível, não esqueça de deixar um comentário sobre o conteúdo lido acima na ask! Adoraria saber o que achou :)

xoxo

Ju

[hannahhook7744]

Do you think the BDA members would keep a journal and/or a diary?

Ace McCard of Wonderland:

By choice? No.

By force via school assignment that he never bothers to touch after the fact? Yes.

Avalon Mim-Knightley of the Isle:

Yes.

But it's mostly full of everything she knows about the Mims and her imagining what her relationship with each and every member would be pre-meeting them.

She burns it after Maddy accidentally reads it.

Bill Cook of Wonderland:

Yes, but it's a handmade cook book with notes that tell just a little too bit about his life.

Chester Chatty of Wonderland:

Yes.

But absolutely nobody other than Ace and Red can read it because he writes in it upside down (messily) and in code, and half of the words are doodled over or smudged.

Chloe Charming of Cinderellasburg:

Yes.

She started keeping one after Chad did because she was itty bitty and wanted to be like her big brother (who mellowed out as an adult but at the time she didn't know what he was like to others in highschool). Anyway, she ended up enjoying it and now looks back at other old journals to see what she was like.

Though unlike the others she's very aware that others could potentially read it because Audrey told her about how others read and wrote in hers.

So she doesn't write anything too incriminating in there.

But she does very much write musings on Red, like you suggested in your own post and (before Red noticed her), she wrote about how jealous she was of Ace because she wanted Red to look at her like that.

(And after Red noticed her and Ace came back no longer having any romantic interest in Red, she painted over those pages so that absolutely no one could find out what she used to think of Ace).

Danny Stuart-Darling of Darling Coast:

Yes.

It has little doodles of Neverland, fairies, pirates, etc in it too (he also hides it in his wall).

Dee Tweedle of Wonderland:

Yes.

Though no one can really read it besides Twee because most of the words are smudged and there are splashes of ink/paint everywhere because she usually writes very fast due to her energy.

She writes in it no matter the emotion she's feeling even with her sharing her emotions with others.

Dora Dormington of Wonderland:

Yes but she usually ends up destroying the pages she writes in so that Twee (when she's working for the Queen of Hearts because not much other choice) and the Queen of Hearts can't ever read what she writes.

Mainly because she knows it'll probably be considered treason.

Eddie Balthazar:

A personal one?

No because he has absolutely no energy for that between going to school, taking care of his parents and the cats, his detective work, and all the various jobs he does to survive.

A shared one he and the BDA have as a 'bonding exercise' yes but he doesn't write in it often.

Edith Athanasiou of the Isle:

No, she thinks it's stupid.

Elle Athanasiou of Tirulia:

Yes, because it helps her keep a good hold on her temper/emotions.

She started keeping one as soon as she learned how to write because her therapist that her parents got for her after she was adopted suggested it.

Everlee D'Aquire of the Isle:

Yes, but absolutely no one wants to read it because of how scary some of the things she writes are.

(Her friends all learned the hard way not to read other people's journal, from her)?

Glauco White of Charmington:

No.

He doesn't really like touching paper more than he has to after the Evil Queen turned him into a tree.

Hadie Athanasiou of the Underworld:

He used to but he stopped because he kept accidentally burning it to ash when he got too upset/angry (like Lava Girl in 'The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl').

Harry Badun:

Both personal and shared, yes, because in his words 'detectives need dairies for improvement' and 'team bonding'.

Hermie Bing:

Yes.

She uses colorful ink and doodles all kinds of clowns, animals, and tricks in it and in the group's shared journal.

Jace Badun:

Yes but only when he's pissed off or writing in the group's shared journal.

Katy Pillar of Wonderland:

Yes and it's rather boring.

It also smells like smoke.

Khalil Hunterson of the Isle:

Nope.

He's not really interested in them.

Lada Haggins of the Isle:

Tried to do one but got bored half way through.

Lazarus Stromboli of the Isle:

Yes, but it's more of a dream journal than a regular journal/diary.

Maddox Hatter of Wonderland:

Yes.

It smells like tea and is mainly filled with ideas for inventions and rambles about Red's recklessness and his fears for her safety.

Miriam Monroe of the Isle:

Yes.

It's filled with rants about her mom, ideas about how her brother might be like as a person, and theories on who her dad might be, and absolutely nothing else.

Panos Imp-Coachmen of the Isle:

Yes but if you read it, it will give you anxiety because it's filled with his anxious ramblings.

Paro Imp-Athanasiou of the Isle:

Yes.

Panos accidentally read it once and had nightmares for months because it's mainly filled with Paro's fascination over the pain he can't feel and doodles of graphic horror movie scenes.

Red Hearts of Wonderland:

Yes.

It's filled with rants about everything she hates regarding Wonderland and her parents and her feelings for Ace (back when she had them) that turned into feelings for Chloe.

You can pin point the exact moment she realized she was into girls (Chloe specifically) in the diary.

Reza Vizer of Agrabah:

Twee Tweedle of Wonderland:

Yes.

He writes both a personal journal that is filled with all the random ideas he has, things he wants to learn about, and past traumatic experiences and takes part in the team bonding exercise that is having a team journal.

Shan Deja of the Isle:

Yes but it's only filled with descriptions of fights she and the other have been in.

Yes.

It helps her keep her emotions in check, which when she was working for the Queen of Hearts she definitely needed (especially with Red frustrating her like she did, even though it wasn't really either of their faults).

Zuri Crocuta of the Isle:

Yzla Sorcerer of Enchania:

Yes.

She writes in both the team journal and a personal one.

In her personal journals she complains about Zevon's antics, how they drive her mother crazy, how much she hates her grandmother and her aunt, how much she misses Lil Yaz, how worried she is for Zim and Zam, and how complicated her feelings regarding her father (Cedric)'s work are.

Not really.

She didn't really learn how to write until she got to Auradon because her mom couldn't teach her how to do it with her hands, and none of her team mates or mentors thought to teach her since she didn't go to school.

[zmarylou]

the chronicles of carter; baby, you're all that I want when you're lyin' here in my arms I'm findin' it hard to believe we're in heaven. ((FLASHBACK))

@silencehq

Nunca era fácil se despedir de Carter, principalmente quando o semideus tentava convencer Mary a ir em menos missões. Embora ela entendesse a preocupação de seu amado, ela não podia virar as costas a seu pai ou ao peso que ser filha dele carregava. Como provaria ser digna de tal bênção se não se voluntariasse prontamente para toda e qualquer missão? Independente de quão perigosa ou longa, a ruiva sempre estava pronta para o desafio e voltava com mais uma honra para o chalé número 1.

A cada despedida, Carter a segurava por mais tempo, tentando, com um olhar intenso e preocupado, fazer com que ela reconsiderasse. Ele sabia que a determinação de Mary era inabalável, mas o medo de perdê-la era constante. Mary, por sua vez, sentia um nó no estômago ao deixar Carter para trás, sabendo que ele sempre estaria esperando por ela, torcendo pelo seu retorno seguro. Naquela noite em especial seus olhos pareciam mais atormentados, a Beckett se deitou na cama do namorado lhe fitando com um pequeno sorriso nos lábios.

"Você sabe que eu sempre volto, eu vou tomar cuidado carinho, você sabe que... parte meu coração te ver assim." mordeu o lábio inferior levemente sabia que ele estava tentando esconder o que sentia, mais ver-lo tão cabisbaixo quase lhe fazia repensar se de fato gostaria de ir.

"- Eu sei, eu sei, eu não to tentando te convencer a ficar eu prometo eu só..." o suspiro cansado escapou dos lábios de Cárter, ele caminhou até a cama repousando sua mão sob o rosto da ruiva. "Você é tudo que conheço, que tenho e que amo Mary, não espere de mim conseguir fingir que a cada segundo que você estiver lá eu vou estar... aqui, eu não posso te proteger daqui, ou te pedir pra ficar, eu sei que não é justo, sei que você faz por seu pai, por seu chalé, mas eu não consigo evitar de pensar que..." a voz do semideus era rouca, continha uma certa hesitação.

"Você não precisa se preocupar, eu vou sempre voltar, nada vai acontecer, você sabe que eu sei lutar muito bem, você me ensinou metade do que sei, eu vou tomar cuidado e vai ficar tudo bem." Mary disse com o intuito de acalmar o coração do outro, Cárter entretanto parecia mais consumido ainda por seus pensamentos.

"-Até quando Mary? Quantas vezes você acha que você vai voltar? Quantas vezes você já não voltou caindo aos pedaços, quando você vai conseguir dizer ok, eu fiz o suficiente e não sei, eu nem sei o que eu to querendo dizer, eu só preciso mais uma vez lhe pedir... implorar, por favor, não me ponha na posição de precisar viver sem você." ela assentiu prontamente, dividia do sentimento que ele falava visto que o conhecia por basicamente toda sua vida.

Mary se sentou na cama e segurou as mãos gélidas de seu namorado, beijando carinhosamente as mesmas tentando lhe dar algum conforto. "Eu prometo que vou voltar carinho, você não vai precisar viver sem mim, eu to aqui." encostou a testa na do outro, perto o bastante para sentir a respiração dele, o amava com cada fibra de seu corpo e sem ele sequer sabia se poderia sobreviver, o conheceu durante seu quarto ano no acampamento e desde aquele dia Cárter havia se tornado como o oxigênio para a Beckett.

"- I love you baby, and i know it might not look like right now but i am so so proud of you, I am sorry." respondeu finalmente um pouco menos tenso roçando os lábios contra o da filha de Zeus.

"I love you so much more, and you don't need to be sorry, if you only knew how much I love you, you'd be sure I will come back, I know it darling." os lábios macios de Mary-Lou selaram-se ao de Cárter. "Hold me before I go?" pediu e viu o outro assentir quase de imediato sentindo a quentura do corpo alheio lhe esquentar; não existia qualquer criatura nos céus, terra ou submundo capaz de lhe manter afastada dele.

[sillyachillean]

Quick intro post!!

Hii! I'm Spence, 23 year old trans guy from the uk. I thought l'd give this a go, I run a nsft blog here too which will be tagged below but I do enjoy indulging in more wholesome posting on occasion.

This blog is inclusive to all mim/minb/nblm folks or anyone who is masc identifying and loves masc identifying people. As I am trans myself some posts will be catered towards trans relationships where others will simply be past aimed :)

This blog will not include anything inherently sexual however I would ask anyone be over 16 at least, I am 22 however so if you are under 18 and/or your age is not in your bio I will not return any attempts at interaction

Cis men can interact however please be respectful of any trans centred posts I make/share or you will be blocked, this blog is a safe place.

Also please be aware I have my darling boyfriend @pinkdollyboy and I am only interested in them so while I will respond to dms please do not come into my DMs expecting anything more than friendly conversation.

Pfp credit: @createcore

Cover photo credit: @aberdeen30

Nsft blog 18+ ONLY @switchyftm

[sagesolsticewrites]

updated poll! 🥳

Thank y’all so so much for your feedback, it’s a huge help to me and i truly appreciate it! If you have any questions or want to know more about these fics/what I’m writing, just ask! I love talking to y’all 💕

(more info about these fics under the cut!)

1.) Glen “Superset” fic: based on this title idea my dear friend Mims @mariposa-mila sent in for my 1 Year Blogaversary Celebration earlier this year!

2.) Returning to my Elvis roots with a Elvis x Dixie two-parter based on some of my favorite Taylor Swift songs (with many hugs to Shawni @austin-butlers-gf for yelling with me about Elvis and the Blue Moon Boys and Taylor ily bestie 💕)

3.) A Steve Harrington x Reader fic based on Taylor Swift’s song Suburban Legends (yes, it’s angsty 👀😈)

4.) if you’d like to see something else, feel free to send me a request! I also have a collection of prompt lists in my pinned post if you’d like some inspo ☺️

[neopronouns-in-action]

Requests not used yet:

______

Neopronouns used so far:

ze/hir/(hirs)/hirself

vi/vir/vis/virself

card/cards/cardself

it/its/itself

ae/aer/(aers)/aerself

lu/luna/lunas/lunaself

de/dim/dis/dimself

zey/zem/zeir/(zeirs)/zemself

x/xself (secondary)

ne/rix/riv/rixelf (background)

sy/rup/rups/syrupself

mae/mer/mims/merself

zae/zaem/zaer/zaemself (secondary)

te/ter/ter/(ters)/terself

zae/zaem/zaer/zaemself (secondary)

ith/kir/kirs/kirself

kit/kitten/kittens/kittenself

ivy/ivys/ivyself

cy/cyb/cybryk

li/liself (background)

aix/(aed)/arix/aiv/aixelf

deq/dir/dira/diraself

they/them/their/themself (secondary)

ae/ryn/rynself

ze/zem/zel/zemself

ni/nir/niys/nirself

izi/(ito)/av/avi/(ka)/fiself

ky/shal/shalk/shalself

mys (background)

shey/shem/sheir/sheirself

an/droid/androidself

che/chim/chis/chimself, (primary)

xi/xir/xirself, (primary)

thi/hil/(hilz)/hilself (secondary)

xe/xim/xis/ximself

ze/zim/zis/zimself (secondary)

li/lia/lias/liaself (secondary)

Dy (first person pronoun, background)

neo/neos/neoself

tal/lyn/talyn (background)

ne/rix/riv/rixelf

heart/hearts/heartself

clo/loc/(locs)/clockself

ri/riv/rivs/riverself (secondary)

ey/vem/veir/(veirs)/veirself

su/[na]/uvu/lo/(ka)/zeda

hea/ler/(lers)/lerself (background)

xiy/rik/ix/sirav

hea/ler/(lers)/lerself

he/her (background)

fe/ir

they/them/their/themselves

ve/vei/veir/veirself

ivo/na/te/mehtiv

sie/sir/siris

meh/uto/utosir

an/dro/gyn/oid

xe/xir/xiv/xirix

li/lia/lias/liaself

fae/faer/faerself

rhe/rhek/rhel/rhellis

Hero/heros/heroself

ama/ranth/amarris

ki/kir/kirris

fir/nix/firris

mie/mym/myr/mirs/mirself

nae/nym/nyr/nymself

ghoul/ghouls/ghoulself

rot/rots/rotself

ŝi/ŝia/ (background)

de/ad/ath/adself

vamp/pyr/pyrs/vampself (background)

ghost/ghosts/ghostself (incidental)

bat/bats/batself (incidental)

thorn,thorns,thornself (incidental)

tech/techno/techs/techself (incidental)

ser/sera/raph/seraphim

pearl/pearls/pearlself

qua/tre/treself

joker/jokers/jokerself

cat/cats/catself

hy/hym/hys/hymself

pley/plem/pleir/plemself

shy/shyr/shyrs/shyrself

ty/tyr/tyrself

ay/li/yen/alienself

bek/birk/biakcu

vel/virl/vialcu

Ze/zer/zero/zeroself

ne/nim/nis/nimself

da/dar/darl/darkling

phi/phim/phis/phirself

tuo/tuak/tuar/tuaresi (background)

ne/nim/nis/nimself

he’er/him’mer/his’ser/him’mer-self

null/nulls (secondary)

thon/thons/thonself (secondary)

wi/vyr/vyrn/vyrself

skull/skulls/skullself

shy/hyr/hyrz/hyrself

hie/hin/hiz/hinself

et/eil/eller/eilself

zo/zol/zov/zolself

drae/drem/draer/dremself

tei/tev/telk/tevself

ty/tyl/tyr/tylself

ex/exi/exil/exiself

rot/rots/rotself

shay

rhe/rhem/rheir/rhemself

sun/sun/sunself

lae/laer/laerself

ero/ilas/danajei

ido/eis/eiself

zal/az/azself

ae/ryn/(ryns)/rynself

sia/lia/lis/liaself

zig/zag/zog/(zogs)/zagself,

that one/that one’s/that one’s own,

ae/aeth/aetherself

shade/shades/shadeself

fin/fins/finself

rat/rats/ratself

kal/vir/vil/(val)/kalixir

rhi/rhim/rhir/rhimself

zim/zur/zimself

zim/zur/zam/zurak

xal/xalv/xallix/xalexir

nova/novas/novaself

grey/greys/greyself

she/shim/sher/shimself

faal/fala/faell/faelen/falself

zae/zaen/zaez/zaenself

dae/daes/daeself

za

av/afo/afi/afozasi

en/eta/ake/etazasi

cel/cele/cels/(celes)/celestialf

kui/kuip/kuiper/(kuipers)/kuiperself

dae/daem/daems/daemself

asp/asps/aspself

aster/asters/asterself

xet/xev/xel/xevself

moon/moons/moonself

ast/aster/asters/(asteroid)/asteroth

ke/keter/keters/(keteroid)/keteroth

xey/xem/xeir/(xeirs)/xemself

eth/eths/ethself

[xolilith]

"Mas, Darling, você não acha que é mais razoável (palavra besta) a gente esperar esse tempinho mais? Não me incomodo de te ver só nos weekends, é melhor que nada, e assim eu poderia esperar com mais calma por esses seis meses que eu acho que até não existem de tão bom que vai ser. Darling, o que é que eu vou fazer de tanta coisa esplêndida que vai acontecer pra mim? Acho que a única solução é fazer um livro de versos, pra seu grande desgosto. Darling, que vontade de te dar tanto beijo. Darling, I want you! Darling, sorry being so assanhada.

.

Meu bem, beijo em papel é desenxabido, mas estou pondo toda imaginação pra te beijar agora, como se tu tivesse aqui junto de mim."

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

4. “Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”

Harry x Uma

Not the exact quote, but the spirit is here. Just some Harry/Uma moments, it’s good for the soul.

Maeve Mim is an OC of @tiredflowercrown which I borrowed (along with the Overgrowth as a whole), beacuse it’s funnier if the Mims keep doing things like this on purpose. Like, Maddy would also write a contract in a dead language, but, not on purpose exactly? She thinks it’s a perfectly normal language to use.

Also, I could have dragged this out longer, but then the semblance of a plot would be lost. Maybe I’ll write a bonus scene or something, who knows.

Uma is sitting  at her desk, numbly staring at the page before her. Trade agreement with Overgrowth or something. Gods forbid the Mims use any combination of languages known to humankind and/or currently in use. Uma is tempted to just burn the whole fucking page just to show them what she thinks of that attitude.

However, the Overgrowth controls the medicine market. Bloody bitches, the lot of them. And unfortunately, Uma cannot afford to leave her infirmary undersupplied

So she sighs, mentally cursing Maeve Mim and every single one of her cousins/sisters/ whatever they are – spawn of demons, anyway. She glares at the dictionary that refuses to magically show her the correct translation and rolls her shoulders back. Ow. Blame the never-ending shifts in her mother’s restaurant and the scuttles on the deck, the Serpent Prep when she bothers to attend– Just about everything, really.

„What’s it, Uma?“ Harry asks from where he’s seated over his own paper, watch assignments for the crew for the week, if she remembers correctly. Though he might have picked up something else, she has no idea how much time she’s wasted trying to translate this stupid treaty.

„Maeve is being a bloody bitch again, that’s what it is,“ she says.

„Oh,“ Harry answers, putting aside the paper and grabbing his hook, leaning forward a bit. „I can kill her for you,“ he offers.

She does her best to give him a stern look, pretty sure she’s failing at that. But can you blame a girl for not being at the top of her game when a boy offers to kill for her?

„We’re not even sure the Mim granddaughters are mortal, Harry,“ she says instead. She very much doubts that. Just as she doubts the existence of Mim daughters for that. Not that she’s too eager to know how the fuck these harpies spawned or what. 

„I could find out.“

She laughs at that. He certainly would like to try that, she is sure.

„The Overgrowth controls the medicine and drugs, Harry. Better leave them be. And if Maeve dies, who knows who would step up as a leader?“

„Maddy, probably.“ He has leaned back again, though he’s still playing with his hook absentmindedly.

„You wanna bet on it? With the Overgrowth and the Mims? They could put forth the mangy kid of theirs, just to fuck with us,“ she wishes she was joking entirely.

„Pff,“ Harry snorts, „I’m pretty sure that kid has rabies or something.“

„You thought CJ had rabies for at least half a year, Harry.“

„In my defence, darling,“ he drawls, „She kept biting us every time Ettie as much as suggested she should take a bath.“

Uma laughs at that, because what else could she do? Harry smiles at her amusement, still playing with the tip of his weapon.

She shrugs, intending for the gesture to stop the conversation; however, the movement sends an uncomfortable wave of pain through her shoulders and she can’t hold back the grimace.

Harry’s smile immediately drops. „You okay?“ he questions.

„I’m fine,“ she lies easily, even though he’ll see right through it.

And really, he just keeps staring at her with the forget-me-not eyes of his, and she can see the near-apocalyptic scenarios forming behind them.

So she gives in, almost as easily as she lied moments earlier, and she sighs: „I’m okay,“ she states again, „My shoulders hurt a bit, but I’m not injured. And,“ she adds with a glare at the dictionary, „Maeve insists on giving me a tension headache.“

If she can blame anything on the Mim bitch, she will gladly do so.

„You sure I can’t kill her?“ Harry sighs overdramatically and, no, she is not having this conversation again. She glares at him.

„Fine, then,“ he resigns, „Let me help you with the translation.“

She could, yes. But she would just end up going over it herself anyway, to make sure it’s all correct; she makes a face at the thought, curling her lip in displeasure. He must see it, too.

„You’re too much of a perfectionist, Uma,“ he informs her, as if she cared, „Just let me help you.“

„You helped already,“  she states instead, „Got me the book, didn’t you?“

He did, from Facilier’s Arachneum, the only semi-functional library on the Isle. She’s pretty sure bribes to the Faciliers were included – or maybe bribes to CJ, to keep the Faciliers occupied.

„But–“

„No but.“

He deflates from his argument, letting the Hook fall into his lap, and falls silent.

Uma peruses the pause to very usefully glare at the dictionary and rolls her shoulders back again.

The silence doesn’t even last long enough for her to actually pick up the work again.

„I could give you a massage,“ Harry says out of nowhere.

„What?“

„I could give you a massage, Uma,“ he repeats and gestures to her with the hook, „To help you with your shoulders, at least. You could even still work on the treaty, if you want to,“ he adds after a bit of a pause.

Uma thinks about it a bit: A massage sounds nice, actually. „Yeah,“ she agrees, „Go for it.“

He stands up.

„Alright. Take off your jacket, then Captain.“

She leans forward, shrugging off the leather.

„Would be best if you took off your shirt, too,“ he adds with a small smirk.

She protests at that: „Hey now, Hook! You’re just trying to get me naked!“

He shrugs, smirking even more. „Depends. Is it working, Captain?“

Instead of an answer, she throws the jacket at his face. He catches it, unbothered, and throws it carelessly on the bed.

„I’m so not stripping for you, Hook,“ she grumbles.

„Yet.“

And, you see, she really regrets having nothing else that she could conveniently throw at him without much damage or too much work lost. She settles for attempting to glare holes right through his brain.

He stares back for a heartbeat before surrendering and averting his eyes. „Sorry, Captain,“ he apologises quite easily, looking at her again, „May I?“ he gestures around, asking for a permission to continue.

„Yes,“ she huffs, though she’s only pretending the annoyance already, „Get on with it. And give me your hook.“

He moves behind her, already holding out the loop of the hook for her to take when he asks, why does she want it?

„I want something to hold,“ she answers, „And if I hold these fucking papers, I’ll tear them apart.“

„So you just want my hook to play with it.“ he turns the weapon around, the metal glinting over her skin.

„Yeah. I like it. Give it to me.“

„You like it,“ he repeats with a hint of disbelief.

„It’s nice,“ she shrugs, „Calming.“

He withdraws the weapon away, raising it to her eye level.

„This,“ he says, twirling it just so that it would catch the light, „Is a lethal weapon. You know that, darling, right?“

She does know that.

However, she said what she said, and she’s not taking it back.

She stares at him with her best rendition of innocent doe eyes.

Predictably, it doesn’t take long for him to give in: He sighs for the show and smiles so bright it almost makes Uma smile too.

„You’re one of a kind, Uma–“ he says and she can almost hear the sentence echoing around, cut short before he can finish it. She doesn’t linger on that too long, as he lifts the hook to carefully caress her cheek with its curve. Now she smiles.

She shots up her hand to meet the weapon and her rings cling on the metal.

Once she holds the weapon securely, he lets go of it: „Here you go, my dear.“

And then his hands are on her shoulders.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

song anon here 😁

songs I think fit well with Where do we go from here part 2: Nervos de aço (perfect for part 1 as well), Na primeira manhã (Alceu Valença), As canções que você fez pra mim (Maria Bethânia), Costumes (Maria Bethânia), Sem ferrolho e sem tramela (Flávio José), Fera ferida (Maria Bethânia), A festa (Milton Nascimento, this guy's voice is perfect istg), Olhos nos olhos (Maria Bethânia or Chico Buarque - there's a YouTube video of them singing this one together, the image and audio quality isn't the best, but it's so so worth checking out! Chico's face when she sings "tantos homens me amaram bem mais e melhor que você"/"many men loved me much more and much better than you did" is everything!!!!!), Todo amor que houver nessa vida (Cazuza), Quero você (Maria Bethânia), Eu só quero um xodó (Gilberto Gil), Até que durou (Péricles. works perfectly for part 1. I recommend y'all check out the video of a youtuber called GoonyGoogles reacting to this song, his reactions are amazing haha).

also, a song I was listening to earlier today and realized it fits very well with Love me back to life: Réu confesso (Tim Maia)

hope y'all enjoy these songs 🥰😘

Ah there you are!!

This is fabulous. Thank you so so much for these recommends, my darling 🤍 I’m so grateful to have such wonderful folks here. These songs are truly amazing.

The Stark Squad appreciates you a lot!!

[itsgrimeytime]

Magnolia in May (Part Twenty Seven) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Parts 1-20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @curlycarley @queenie32 @mgparker

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TW: none.

[[A/N: Live for this gif, it's the epitome of mim! Rick, except Judith is a bit older. Thanks for reading !!! ]]

The buzz of the street was comforting, a bit like the bickering of your home dinners -Headmistress speaking, Maggie biting back, and Beth and Father merely watching on. It was much of the same, just on a wider scale -words being said but you didn't listen not as though you were at home.

The stalls were busy and the street even busier, and it felt like Alexandria.

"You're Ms. Greene," someone spoke, you turned to listen, "-Mr. Grimes's courting you!"

That day at the ball, he'd asked you to stand by him -at the center of it all. All the eyes on you had been unnerving, but being by his side was important -he'd requested you.

In his concern, he must've forgotten the gossiping.

"I am," you hummed, moving along the space with certainty.

"Are you of great fortune?" The woman asked, not quite young but not quite old, "-Or perhaps you're pursuing him for-"

"I'm pursuing him to pursue him," you interrupted, turning to face her with a seriousness in your tone, "-nothing else."

Her lips pursed, dark brown hair framed her face and blue eyes staring rather intriguingly -like you were a sort of wonder.

"You say such a thing so firmly," she spoke, tilting her head, "-Do you truly believe it?"

"I much more than believe it, madam," you echoed, a bit distant -this battle was one you had won before, "-I live it."

She didn't follow you after such a thing was said, but the whispers that followed you only carried. Each crowd formed around you as if you were infectious -swerving and eyes downcast.

Oftentimes you missed old Alexandria, like the day you met Mr. Grimes where you could exist in harmony -no one of note. But you supposed now that you were here, you couldn't wish to be back there. He meant far too much to you to wish before him.

Far too much.

At the thought, something in your chest warmed, and you found something claws up your throat -you turned back to the woman, the crowd really.

"I love him-"

It wasn't an explanation, not really, and sure, they didn't need to know such things. But something in you wished to say it, to get it out -to tell people I love him and he loves me. He wishes to marry me-

"-if you must know."

The rest of the day went by rather uneventfully, no one chose to speak to you out of turn -only whispers followed behind you like a gust of wind. But by then, you didn't truly care.

You hadn't thought about the papers, not then anyway, but looking back on such a confrontation -you probably should have.

"Look at this darling," Headmistress motioned the paper to you, "'I love him,' says the lady of such elite courtship. Further comments to Mr. Grimes were made but he merely smiled at such words. The ring of a proposal is upon our ears, certainly, it will be the wedding of the century."

You peered over the paper, "The front page, it's certainly not worth such importance-"

"I beg to differ, my dear," Headmistress hummed, setting the paper in front of your Father without much other thought, "-Mr. Grimes being off the market is sure to be news."

"Very true," your Father echoed, "-upon his visit to Alexandria, all that could be talked about was of him being a bachelor. Your courting is bound to make the papers."

"Yes, okay," you started, "-but my own words? Truly, they must be inconsequential-"

"Not in this case," your Headmistress shook her head, absentmindedly adjusting the pin of your hair -it was falling from the day's work, "-you neatly confirmed the seriousness of such a courting. That's news-"

"Yes, but-" you spoke, curious, "-How are they not to assume I am not longing after the man?"

"Well, because he clarified," Beth spoke, looking over Father's shoulder, "Upon further pursuance, Mr. Grimes said, rather happily, 'I love her.' Silencing the rumors of a rather morbid affair for the public eye, he gave us no further comment."

"Where?" you jumped up from your seat -gathered by your Father's side, "-Did he truly-"

And there it was, written in ink -a confession to farther than even Alexandria, he'd done it. He told the whole town that such affections were mutual, that was- That was-

"Darling, why are you crying?" she echoed, still fidgeting with your hair -she decidedly smoothed it down, "-You certainly knew such affections before, haven't you?"

"I did, I do," you gasped out between your breaths -smiling, "-I just can't believe he'd say such things for the whole town to know like he's-"

"Proud of you," Maggie finished, ducking in from upstairs, "-which he very well ought to be."

"Maggie-"

"No, she's right," agreed your Father, matching your eyes, "-He's very well lucky to court you, my darling daughter. Through it all, you still find love in your heart for him, and he's very well earned that."

"Oh, Father," you smiled, wiping at your tears and pulling him into a hug -hands wrapped around his shoulders, "-don't make me cry more-"

You supposed the next time you went out, you should've expected it.

"Ms. Greene," his voice echoed over the crowd, and you spun in place to catch him, "-lovely to see you, out and about."

Mr. Grimes was grinning, the kind of grin that had a sparkle in his eye -playful. In his arms was Judith -dressed wonderfully for such a simple occasion, and Carl was tightly to his side -still overdressed, but suited it lovely.

"You say that as though I'm not out every morning."

"You are?" He hummed, "-I should join you more often. Speakin' of, may we? Join you?"

"I'd love the company," you smiled at each one of them, lingering on Mr. Grimes if only a moment.

"Certainly you would," he echoed, biting down a grin.

Ah, you noted, that's what this is about.

"Yes, and tell me," you began, looking at him -suspiciously, "-What exactly are you out here for? Grocery?"

"I simply love the company."

"You are ridiculous, you know that?" You laughed, out loud -improperly but it was with him, so you thought it alright.

He shook his head, following you through the shops and stalls -you lingered by the chocolates only a spare moment. But of course, he noticed such longing looks -he always did.

"Sir," he spoke, and you nearly startled in place, "-may I receive some of those strawberries?"

"Certainly, sir," the man spoke with high respect, only meeting his eye.

"What do you need those for, Mr. Grimes?" You quirked, basket neatly rested in the crooked of your arm, "-Not dinner, I suppose."

"For you," he stated, matter-of-factly -extending out the bag to your basket and squarely dropping them into it.

"Mr. Grimes," you relented, "-I cannot accept-"

"A gift," he smiled, "-We are courting, are we not? Accept a gift on my behalf."

"You certainly cannot gift me everything I long for," you echoed out, fingers lingering on the little packet -you had always wished to try one.

"I can," he hummed, "-and will, if you allow me."

"Only a little."

Mr. Grimes laughed at that, loud and boisterous, and something in your chest warmed that such a noise came at your expense. It was almost as if every shop turned to you, unexpectedly, looking more than they already had.

You began to gather the groceries for the house, sticking by every stall neatly and avoiding when Mr. Grimes wished to pay. You had the funds, and you could buy them, so you would.

"Let me get somethin'," he started, sighing -a little exhausted you could tell.

It was just then, that you rounded in front of Mrs. Sweets's shop -new dresses, beautiful dresses lining the windows. You always loved this part of the trip, eyes dashing along the stitching, the color, everything. Your dreams of seeing such things on your skin were just that, dreams.

You stalled in place, stopping as you always did, looking through the windows and Mr. Grimes continued, not noticing the stop. Until a few moments later, he rejoined you -tight by your side, eyes dancing along your face as you looked on.

"You like to-"

"Look at the dresses," you finished, they each were beautiful, but something in your mind lingered on one from weeks prior -lavender with lacy finishes, and detailing you could never imagine to own.

"They are rather beautiful," he conceded.

You started, a little dreamy, "One week, I saw such a stunning gown," you sighed, "-lavender with a bit of lace at the ends of the sleeves. It was far more beautiful than anything I believe I ever owned."

"And?"

"And what?" You laughed, "-I could never buy such a dress, the detailing costs much more than you can imagine. Plus, I know each dress is one of a kind here, and it is far gone."

You reached out to touch the glass, as if it was still there and you could feel it between your fingertips.

"A woman much better suited found the same beauty in it I did, I assume."

Mr. Grimes was rather silent.

"Now come on," you hummed, undeterred, "-I've got run by Wheatley's for some dairy."

He merely followed behind, silently playing with Judith as you roamed around what was left -stalls and shops, Mr. Grimes kept reaching out to pay. You kept beating him to it.

Every time you lingered on something, however, he'd have it within his fingers in a snap -you'd ended up with a new lavender ribbon (it reminded you of the dress), a pair of shoes, and the chocolate strawberries. You allowed him only those three, despite your heart aching for many different things -you did not wish him to spoil you.

Perhaps, one day but not now.

Perhaps, when he married you-

You stuttered in your step for a spare moment, and the thought split into your head -when? Would he do such a thing soon? You knew he planned it-

"Everythin' alright?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted down to speak to you over the buzz of the stalls.

"Yes," you hummed, softened at such a tone, "-I am well, just thinking."

"Anythin' you want to talk about?"

You smiled, reassuring, "It's nothing, Mr. Grimes, I promise. Just thoughts of no note."

He pursed his lips as to ask more, but someone interrupted him.

"Ms. Greene!" A voice echoed, not one you knew -a man who seemed to speak to you with intention, "-You are in the courtship with Mr. Grimes-"

He spoke it as though you didn't already know.

"Did you have anything of note to say?"

"To say to who?" You questioned, Mr. Grimes still tightly by your side, but at the moment the crowd seemed to block them off.

"The town of Alexandria," he clarified, "-Courting such a man, you must have lots to say. Perhaps, to say to those who don't get such pleasantries."

"Are you asking me to brag sir?"

"Certainly not," he hummed, "-just wishing to know more details. Has such courting been elite? Does he spend much fortune on you?"

"You must certainly know not to ask that of a lady, sir," you started, a little stiffened at such questions.

"I was born to ask questions, miss," he spoke, "-With the courtship of Mr. Grimes, you'd think-"

"Excuse me," Mr. Grimes spoke, gently, pushing through to join your side clearly.

"You'd think what?" You asked, genuinely, "-That my privacy is disregarded upon the courting of a man?"

"Well, a man like Mr. Grimes-"

That was when he stepped forward, Judith and Carl by his side -his hand intertwined with his son's and Judith within his other arm, "A man like me?"

"Mr. Grimes," he tensed, and something in you soured -he took him seriously, "-lovely day, is it not?"

"Are you not listening to Ms. Greene?" He questioned, rather intently, "-I believe her privacy being questioned is her own issue, yet you don't listen to her?"

"Well, sir," he laughed, a little nervously, "-She's a lady-"

"My lady," Mr. Grimes corrected, "-I ask you to respect that, respect her, certainly."

"I understand," he echoed out, "-I apologize-"

"Not to me," Mr. Grimes spoke, tightly, "-To her, speak to her."

The man, still nameless, turned to you, "I apologize for being so intrusive, miss, I request you forgive me."

"Thank you," you spoke, strictly, still not quite settled. Mr Grimes brushed his arm against yours -sleeve upon sleeve, and something in you calmed slightly.

You wished you could hold onto his arm, but both were quite preoccupied.

It wasn't long after that Judith fell asleep, blond curls snug against her father's shoulder and eyes squeezed shut. You found it rather sweet, keeping such an image safely in your chest.

Your eyes lingered over the three of them, they stood a few steps ahead. You realized it then, such a thing as today was a rather family affair.

The group waltzing along the stalls, together, you playing with Judith, quietly speaking to Carl and playfully bickering with Mr. Grimes -it was as though you belonged. Like you were on an outing with your family-

Something in your heart shifted.

Maybe you were. The thought settled along your shoulders, and you began smiling -watching the three of them step forward, all wandering along the stalls. You grinned, you liked this little family, liked being a part of it.

You wanted to be a part of it-

And just then, Mr. Grimes turned around, blue eyes fluttering across your face, "You comin'?"

"Of course," you whispered out -stepping forward to join his side, "-Of course."

Perhaps, you already were.

[rewh0re]

HIHI HANA ML HRUUU <33 your reblog made my day!! i love seeing you in my notifs mwahh (come to the dark side !!! live laugh love satoru)

MY SWEET DARLING BABY MIMS MIMI SWEETIE LUVVVVVVVV <33333 honestly I'm good but they kinda postponed my exam date so now my exams get over on 4th 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡 I LOVE SEEING U IN MY NOTIFS BAR ILYSM imy bbg and yes we all love satoru suguru (I don't discriminate)

[marciabrady]

Outside of the 3 original princesses, do you have any Disney favorites? By that I mean favorite character, favorite vocal performance, favorite song, favorite movie, etc? (Apologies if you have answered these questions before.)

Yes, I have many, many, many! I'll also exclude The Little Mermaid, as the original four princess movies are equally my favorite but! For more broad answers:

Favorite character: since i always talk about female characters, i'll switch it up and do a male character! hercules is my entire heart

Favorite vocal performance: again i'm going to try to say something that isn't obvious but i think 'my own home' from jungle book is captivating and kathryn beaumont is a certified genius

Favorite song: i bring you a song from bambi makes my heart smile and is the essence of romance imo

Favorite movie: hmmm i like so many like fantasia, bambi...but perhaps fun and fancy free??? ichabod toad? i really don't know, i like so many

But also, just for general appreciation:

pinocchio is a BEACON of light and so fascinating. i love the rich european setting and the original colors- especially the use of red- and the blue fairy is genuinely captivating. i love the realistic characterizations and the artistry is unsurpassed imo

fantasia's fairies might be the peak of filmmaking for me and i love the inclusion of classical music.

dumbo is so heart warming and i love the emphasis on his mother even though it makes me cry and i think pink elephants on parade is a bop and i love the way they included it in fantasmic

bambi is GENIUS, as i mentioned above i love the song so much but i really just think it's the spirit of filmmaking and is so real and authentic and i think it'll survive as a film until the end of time

fun and fancy free has really great water animation and cloud scenes in the bear segment but also mickey and the beanstalk is so much fun from start to finish

melody time has once upon a wintertime, which makes it have merit as a film, and i looove frances langford's voice

the adventures of ichabod and mr. toad gave us katrina and brom bones and FOR THAT i salute this film. i love the music and the old american town and like the halloween influence and the mansion and just. everything so much about it. it really is like feeling the crisp autumn air. i love the miniature scale homes of the animals in the toad segment- it's so comforting

alice in wonderland. just everything about it

peter pan - where do i even begin. the music is a religious experience, marc davis's work on tinker bell's walk is LEGENDARY, but also i was sooo intrigued by the mermaids and their design as a child. it's the high point of the film for me. i love love LOVE kathryn beaumont's wendy and mrs. darling is so dear

lady and the tramp is a movie that's so cozy- i absolutely love the smalltown american vibes and the moment with the spaghetti is iconic for GOOD reason

101 dalmatians deserves to exist for anita and anita alone

sword in the stone is a film i loved as a child. madam mim was fun to me and she freaks me out now, though i do love her attractive form, ngl i kinda think kay is cute, and i LOVE archimedes and merlin is a top disney character for me

the aristocats ALL the female characters <333

robin hood gave us lady kluck is one of my top ten characters of all time. she gave us everything and she has yet to receive her flowers

winnie the pooh is cute

the rescuers has such an intriguing voice in miss bianca and, again, the miniature animal homes are comforting to me. i love how underground and gritty it feels

the black cauldron is an amazing experimental film that is sooo gorgeous

beauty and the beast is worth it for me because i love mrs. potts, i love the bimbettes, i think adam is intriguing, and gaston is a fav

pocahontas has one of the best soundtracks but also can we talk about NAKOMA

hercules maybe has top 5 art but also hercules as a character is someone i love so much it makes my heart physically hurt :(

mulan- i love the connections people make with her and shang being bi is pretty much is everything

princess and the frog gave us a wonderful design for tiana