#mostly)

[mythals-whore]

Bellara Lutare | Serials

A short Bellara drabble for our darling girl <3

Summary: Bellara allows Rook to read her work. Unfortunately, the her inspiration is a little more than obvious…

Belinda had admittedly been increasingly distracted by the professor as of late. Something about his hands, she thought, as she watched him draw one of his elegant, adorned fingers across the board—undoubtedly highlighting something important. But Belinda was busy studying the delicate curve of his waist when her name cut through the haze.

"Miss Lanariel?" he prompted a second time, and her eyes flicked up to his face.

The room was silent except for the thundering of her heart in her own ears.

He'd just asked her a question, and she wanted desperately to give the answer, if only to hear the praise that usually accompanied the right one. Instead, her mouth fell helplessly open, accompanied by no words at all.

She gaped soundlessly for a moment before his expression melted into disappointment that she felt somewhere low in her stomach. Belinda is usually a star student, top of every class—except this one.

"Miss Lanariel," he tutted, "Daydreaming again?"

Snickers erupted around the room, and Belinda felt her face flame brightly.

"I—" she squeaked, unable to find her voice under that unusually stern gaze. Her cheeks burned impossibly hotter.

The professor's eyebrows flicked up at that, lips pressing together in disapproval, "I see." he studied her a moment longer—she would ahve sworn his eyes dropped to her chest, undoubtedly just as bright pink as her face—before he said, "See me after class."

Belinda swallowed, hands starting to tremble. She isn't the kind of student to be seen after class—especially not for any kind of discipline. When class ends, the other students meandered out of the room in the usual flurry of papers being gathered, books being tucked into bags and the sound of wood scraping over flagstones. Belinda remained in her seat longer than the rest, heart beating so fast in her chest she was certain she'd pass out before she made it to his desk.

But a shaking hand tucked her things into her bag before she shouldered it, reaching for some sort of resolve and finding none. It only became harder, ever step toward his desk. He'd taken up his spectacles, studying some paper or another, quill twisting between his elegant fingers. Belinda found herself incapable of looking at anything else on her approach.

Professor Emmett Voltaire was always dangerously dapper—but that day there was something special about the chain dangling about his waist, an unusually unruly tendril falling over his forehead from his usually well-kept gray hair.

******

Bellara gnaws nervously at her lower lip, peering at her own notebook over Rook's shoulder. It's a good thing to do, as she understands, getting someone else to read her work—but why does it feel like her heart is about to come out her mouth? The whole point of writing this would be to try and publish it..maybe. It it was good enough. Which Bellara isn't sure it is. It still needs a lot of work—which she told Rook. Not that Rook has given her much choice. She'd walked in while Bellara was puzzling out something else about the piece and insisted on reading.

Rook had quickly become enveloped with the writing—which is somehow both exciting and nerve-wracking. Exciting because that almost certainly meant she was enjoying it—which was good! And nerve-wracking because Rook has been silent as long as she's sat there, brow furrowed with interest. Until finally—

"Bellara!" Rook exclaims, slamming a hand on the page and looking up at her with wide eyes. "Is this—"

Bellara snatches the notebook right out of the other woman's hand, "Nevermind—"

"About Emmrich?"

"No!" Bellara protests, pressing the notebook protectively to her chest. Rook's eyebrow only arches in disbelief. Bellara immediately collapses onto her cot, using the notebook to hide her own flaming cheeks.

It isn't based on Emmrich, not really.

It's just that…the professor happens to fit perfectly into the serial stereotype.

"I may have…taken inspiration?" Bellara admits, looking up to find Rook looking at her with the kind of delight that usually denotes a great deal of trouble. "It was just an idea!"

She's tried her hand at writing several different stories now, but this one had come the easiest. The moment she thinks that, her cheeks flame brighter at the thought of what Rook would say if Bellara offered that thought aloud.

"It's good, Bell." Rook says, and this time her smile is warm—though her eyes still sparkle with mischief, "Really."

"Yeah…yes! Thank you." Bellara is blushing furiously now. She bites nervously at the inside of her lip, but Rook just waits patiently, perhaps sensing the other question Bellara had brought her here to ask. She's already read it, Bellara tells herself. "Do you think he would mind that I…"

Rook grins, "I'd think he'd be flattered. This has the potential to Rival Swords and Shields in terms of…steaminess."

"No!" Bellara insists, frantically waving her hands to dispel the compliment—though it is one. Varric Tethras may not have thought it was his best work, but to Bellara…well she'd enjoyed it immensely. To have her work compared in any way…it was good.

Her work.

It was actually good.

She's just basking in the glow of it when Rook gives a slightly nervous chuckle, "Though I might think of changing the professor's name to something other than 'Emmett Voltaire'."

"It's a place holder—"

"—And Belinda Lenariel—"

"Alright!" Bellara laughs sheepishly, "You're right—thank you, Rook."

"Any time Bellara," she promises with a sunshiney-smile that Bellara actually believes. Then, Rook's smile turns mischievous, "Have you written anything about me?"

"What?!" Bellara demands, eyes going wide. "No!"

Rook's grin only widens, "Can I see it?"

"No!" Bellara backs farther away, fingers curling protectively over her notebook. And when Rook's grin only widens, she realizes her mistake. "Not that I—" Bellara grimaces, and under the prudent and enthusiastic gaze, finally relents. "It's not finished—"

"But can I read it?" Rook asks again, and Bellara's fingers tap anxiously at the spine of the leatherbound book. Rook's eyes go wide, pleading. "Please, Bellara? I'm sure I'll love it!"

Bellara eyes Rook warily, looking for any sudden movements. When she shows none—just sitting uo on her knees, fingers curling eagerly around the back of the chair—Bellara turns, flipping the notebook open to a marked page near the back.

Her eyes scan the page—Rosalie’s eyes roll back, a breathy moan escaping her lips as Damon’s tongue lavs over her throat, fingers skimming higher on the inside of her thigh. Already Rosalie is pulled taut like a bow string and soon Damon was going to know just how tight—Bellara snaps the book closed, turning back toward Rook in one fluid movement, "No."

Unfortunately her obvious embarrassment only seems to tempt Rook further, "Maker, Bell, now I have to know—!"

"No!" Bellara insists, "Not until it's—um—finished?”

Rook runs discerning eyes over Bellara's face before nodding decidedly, "When it's finished." She agrees, "Then I can read it?"

Bellara realizes only then the trap she's fallen into. She swueezes her eyes shut a moment before agreeing.

She quickly decides to never finish that particular story.

[imheretoreadafic]

When Bruce was new to the whole having children thing, he was always stepping in and trying to break up fights. His resolve was quickly broken, and he just decided to put rules on fighting out problems. No breaking anything, no weapons, no hitting face, neck, or groin, and no knockouts.

Batman leaned against the wall and casually watched as Robin and Red Robin beat the shit out of each other. The JL glanced at each other.

"You... You gonna do something about that, Bats?" Barry asks cautiously.

"It's been a long time coming." Bruce grunts. "Let them handle it." A hit to the jaw lands on Damian, and he shouts at them: "AY, KEEP IT AWAY FROM THE FACE!"

"FUCK OFF!" Tim screams but he doesn't punch Damian in the face again.

Diana nods. "I approve of this parenting technique. Sometimes problems need to be solved with some bruises and blood." Bruce nods as well.

"I've found breaking up their fights just means they still get bruised but no issue is solved." Batman explains and Diana hums thoughtfully.

"Would it not also be adequate to have them duel?"

"No, they do actual damage if i let them have a weapon.

"Ah, I suppose that makes sense."

Everyone is horrified.

[enbyandyy]

you go girl they're here for the vibes

[howisthepope]

Okay fine. I'll do it myself

WHILE I HAVE EVERYONE'S ATTENTION

the birth rate of the Vatican is zero

Aka no one has ever given birth in the Vatican

Mostly because even if someone was going into labour, they would move the person to the nearest hospital in Rome

So

Who is gonna do it?

[frownyalfred]

“You wanna fight someone, you fight me” seemed like a silly rule at first. but after there was more than one batkid living in the Manor at the same time, suddenly the prospect of having to spar with Bruce on the mats because you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing a punch at Tim earlier is terrifying.

[sethdomain]

Space experimented child soldier capitalism miraculous ladybug AU. What's next

[raineyraven]

man i feel bad for fans of the httyd movies who haven't seen the shows, especially race to the edge. like they don't know that the riders left berk and lived on an outpost together to go adventuring and fight dragon hunters as a team. they don't know that snotlout and astrid and fishlegs and the twins got character development. they don't know how cool and interesting the villains in the shows are compared to the movies. they don't know that the riders are filled with love and loyalty to each other and they bicker and train and play card games with each other and have sleepovers together and will risk their lives for their friends and their dragons in a heartbeat. imagine that.

[mubabee]

(Idk if it uploaded so imma try again)Jing yuan with child!reader like I said

I hate writing dialogue for this man he got a certain way of wording shit that I can’t comprehend or think of

The art style change with each drawing man I was getting lazy I didn’t even shade the last one errrr

u can see this as y/n or ur child with him

He apologized dw

[the-hopeless-fanboy]

[paradox-n-bedrock]

me in big fandoms: oh cool, it's so active and there's so many people to vibe with, this is amaz-

*finds my niche angle that appeals to approximately six people*

me: okay, folks, it's you and me now

[eaglerayys]

Me after finishing Harrow the Ninth

[rosenkranz-does-things]

today, I offer you some x files shitposts. tomorrow? who knows

[rungapikattohikattara]

this is too perfect…

[tastyyummyme]

Just be happy 😊 and never forget to smile

[yakkety-yak-art]

hate when ppl make my little pony designs of sonic the hedgehog and make him a pegasus just bcuz rainbow dash is fast or pegasi can move faster than earth ponies NO. Sonic is a little freak come horse or high hedgehog and he will move his fast little feet as god intended. get those wings OFF him.