#Roland's Food Court

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember me? (Part 17)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: eh. i dont know. this was going to be longer, but then i decided to let it be. kinda filler i guess. not much happening.

enjoy!

•○🌑○•

The gasps and looks Eris and Y/n's third dance had received would forever be embedded in her mind.

Y/n would have given herself a judging look if she could if she was being honest. She didn't know what she was thinking when she told him she wanted to continue dancing.

Almost an hour after their dance ended, she was still wondering and chastising herself.

People were still looking at her strangely, but that she could not care less about.

Was he asking me to marry him?

Y/n ignored the thought the moment she had it.

Despite her attempts to quell her questions, though, one question kept coming to the forefront of her mind.

Am I in love?

She did not know how to answer, so she either kept trying to stop thinking, or tried to think if she did love him.

Butterflies kept erupting in her stomach, and she desperately tried to stop them from taking flight by washing down several glasses of wine.

Not much help, if she said so herself. But still nonetheless effective in that it made her feel freer. And she felt like she could ignore the others better when she was busy trying to lick the dregs from the bottom of the cup or having a staring match with the few droplets that for some reason refused to leave the cup.

She was not drunk, not by any means. She was just trying to pretend that what happened earlier was planned. Or that it did not matter to her.

A gentle touch to her shoulder brought her out from her current staring match with those bastard droplets that for some reason hated her, and she turned her head around to see who had the audacity to disturb her.

Roland grinned at her, nodding his head towards the raised platforms at the end of the gigantic room where long tables stood with high backed chairs surrounding the length of it. Steam wafted up in tendrils from the food that had been set on them by the servants who now hurried to get out of the way of the haughty autumn court nobles.

There were two platforms, one for all the court nobles, and a higher one for the high lords who would dine together. Only the high lords and a chosen member of their court would sit on the table on the higher platform.

Since Y/n's arrival, two balls had been held. Eris usually chose his highest and most trusted advisor to sit with him in these things. Y/n usually sat at one of the chairs on the lower platforms.

She began to move towards her usual spot when she felt Roland stopping her again. She scowled at Eris's personal guard and oldest friend.

His grin only widened, completely unbothered by her glare, as if she was a harmless little female. She was just about to give him a piece of her mind and show him exactly what she could do when he glanced behind her, trying to contain his smile as he jerked his head to behind her.

She glanced towards where he had nodded to, and found Eris staring at her as he stood next to his chair at the head of the table, his hand on the chair on his right.

Her brows furrowed when she realised his advisor was nowhere nearby.

She glanced around, wondering if he was not attending, but to her surprise, she found him sitting on one of the table on the lower platform, muttering in low tones. By the looks of it, he was not very happy with the seat arrangements.

She turned to Eris questioningly.

He simply pulled out the chair to his right, one that was always reserved for the highest ranking official after the high lord himself.

Only after a moment did she realise that he was waiting for her to sit in it.

Her eyes widening, she looked behind her to Roland, something akin to panic festering under her skin.

He simply nudged her lightly with a hand to her back, and Y/n turned forward again, telling herself she would kill him the first chance she got.

She clutched at the soft, velvety fabric of her skirts as she walked forward, a hush falling over the room as everyone again stared at her as she passed the empty chairs, and then continued on until she stepped onto the higher platform.

At this point, everyone had definitely realised that the high lord had removed the advisor from his normal seat to have someone who was not even a member of the court sit next to him.

She stared at Eris the whole time, wondering what he was playing at.

He did not look away either, simply moving away for her to sit.

He pretended as if nothing happened, toasting to unity of the courts against all evil and things Y/n did not bother to listen to. It was only some courtly bullshit, she knew.

She knew she could not listen and focus even if she tried. She was too busy thinking about what he had done.

After a few moments, everyone dug into the dish. It was a small piece of spiced chicken placed in a crunchy and edible bowl like structure, drizzled with a slightly sweet and sour sauce.

The high lords chatted among themselves. The couple from winter court sat next to Y/n, the lord simply staring at his wife as she chatted with Morrigan, who sat next to her.

Directly across Y/n sat the high lord of day court, his boisterous laugh at something Eris said echoing slightly from the high walls and ceiling of the room. Y/n simply waited, chewing slowly as she contemplated how she would talk to Eris about it.

Eris gave his signature cruel lord smirk to Helion when he said something. Then Helion tuned away to say something to the High lord of dawn court, and Y/n took that as he chance to give Eris a piece of her mind.

She slowly ran her heeled toes against the nearest leg she could find, trying to see if it was Eris. She was sure it was Eris, she was just making sure.

Eris paused his chewing, his eyes moving from his half eaten plate to her. He rose a brow.

If Y/n didn't know better, she would have thought he began blushing too.

She then pulled back her leg, and after waiting a moment, she kicked him. He jerked and jumped in his seat, biting his lip. He tried to recover by pretending nothing happened and taking another bite of the chicken on his plate. After he was sure no one had seen him caught off guard, he glared at Y/n, betrayal swirling in his eyes.

Y/n smiled at him, wide and unrestrained, before she turned back to the last bite that was left on her plate, the sauce having smeared all over.

Eris said nothing as the servants scurried out from their places against the wall to clear up the tables and then bring everyone a bowl of soup. They were silent, their feet hurrying to get their work done and then go and stand in the shadows again, to not be a bother to the elites of the court who already had a problem with the lower faeries existence.

Y/n smiled and softly thanked the bark skinned fae that placed the soup bowl in front of her. The fae seemed shocked for a moment, before they ducked their head and hurried away.

After the people resumed their eating, Y/n turned to Eris, who glanced at her.

She leaned close to him, and he put his head next to hers to listen to her amid the chatter in the room.

"You might as well marry me right now. Or have you already planned to do it?"

A small smirk made its way onto his mouth, and Y/n chided herself for giving him the chance to tease her. "If that is what you want, I would declare my love for you and marry you, right here, right now, my dear."

Y/n's face heated, and she sat back, avoiding his eyes.

For the rest of the dinner and until all the high lords save for the spring high lord and the night court inner circle left, Y/n avoided him like the plague.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Eris Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @tele86

Remember me Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo @wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392 @quackitysdrugdealer @txzii @anuttellaa @coisas-da-dani @hnyclover @sassyslytherinshai @historygeekqueen @why4anne @mybestfriendmademe @going-through-shit @thisblogisaboutabook @thehighlordishere @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival

#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #a court of mist and fury #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #pro eris vanserra #acotar

[believingispowerfulmagic]

The Christmas Wish

Summary: Henry Mills and Roland Locksley are best friends who decide to ask Santa for one thing this Christmas: to be brothers. It's a wish which will have life changing consequences for all, especially their single parents, Regina Mills and Robin Locksley.

FFN | AO3 | Wattpad

Excerpt (Chapter 1: A Wish for Santa):

Christmas was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.

As a single mother, Regina Mills did her best to make sure it was for her darling son, Henry. They decorated their house the day after Thanksgiving when the weather was still agreeable, allowing the two to hang multicolored lights around their windows as well as the columns and railings on their deck. Regina also swallowed down her fear of heights to climb up a ladder and place a lit-up Santa in his sleigh as it was pulled by his reindeer, including Rudolph and his blinking red nose, on her roof. Illuminated snowmen and blow up scenes were set out on the lawn, making sure they never missed their house throughout the month of December.

It still didn’t hold a candle to how bright Henry’s smile was and that alone made it all worth it.

Two weekends later always found them out in the forest around their little town of Storybrooke, Maine, where the best Douglas firs grew. She bundled Henry up in his warmest coat, a festive hat and scarf as well as his thickest gloves before donning similar apparel herself. Hand-in-hand they walked through rows of trees, searching for the right one to live in their living room until the New Year. Regina was willing to pay any cost for the best tree and drove their pick carefully home. They then spent the rest of the night decorating it with ornaments Regina had collected over the years and ones Henry had made since starting school. Beautiful glass orbs hung with handprint Santas and clothespin reindeer. All with a star on top, ready to shine down on the mount of presents Regina made sure he had to open every Christmas morning.

Getting that mound of presents, though, meant fighting crowds at the mall every year, which disrupted the tight schedules she created to help juggle mommyhood and her career. Yet she still managed to get Henry up, dressed, fed with a healthy breakfast and off to school with an equally healthy lunch each morning. Then she went off to either her office or court, depending on her cases as an assistant district attorney.

After a day spent arguing both in court and out of it, she picked up Henry from the school’s aftercare program. Tuesdays were for soccer practice while Thursdays were his scout meetings before a home-cooked meal and homework. Henry knew he was to take a bath and then he curled up next to her on the couch for an hour of reading. Once he was tucked in for the night, she returned to the couch for some good television and a glass of wine.

Their weekends were spent together, doing every fun thing Regina could think of. Day trips, movie marathons, games and the like filled those days and nights. Saturday nights were also bath nights for her, a chance for her to unwind from the week once Henry was asleep. Regina loved her weekends. It was a schedule that worked throughout the rest of the year and that Christmas screwed up. There were many trips to the mall either after work or on the weekends so she could find all the gifts she needed for Henry and her family. Because of this, there were more dinners spent at restaurants or fast food places than she would like. However, it was easier than trying to cook after being pushed and jostled by less than merry shoppers.

Yet the piece de resistance was the visit to Santa so Henry could tell him what he wanted.

Henry pulled her through the crowded mall, knowing the way to Santaland by heart as it was always set up in the dead center of the mall. “Come on, Mom,” he said. “We don’t want to miss Santa!”

“Slow down, Henry! Santa is not scheduled to return to the North Pole until seven o’clock,” Regina said, trying to rein in her son as she dug in her heels.

It didn’t appease her son. He only tugged her hand harder. “Come on, Mom. We’re going to be late.”

“Henry Daniel, I told you Santa’s not leaving for several hours. We won’t be late for him.”

“I’m not talking about Santa! We’ll be late meeting Roland!” Henry explained, looking exasperated. He looked like her, to be honest, even though they shared not a lick of DNA.

Regina knew she had a similar look on her face as they finally stopped. She blew out the side of the mouth, trying to get a loose tendril of dark hair out of her eye as she took stock of her situation. Her son had made plans with his best friend and forgot to tell her about them. Typical Henry.

Then again, he was only seven years old.

#once upon a time #outlaw queen #christmas #oq au #oq ff #the christmas wish

[dd-is-my-guiltypleasure]

Roland's food court interview with David.

#david duchovny #2022 #SoundCloud

[onenettvchannel]

BALITANG LOKAL: Dumaguete's Local Retail Giant 'Lee Super Plaza' faces an uncertain future and potential mall bankruptcy by the year-end of 2023 [#OneNETnewsEXCLUSIVE]

DUMAGUETE, NEGROS ORIENTAL -- Lee Super Plaza, a well-known shopping mall located in the heart of Dumaguete City is facing an uncertain future, concerning of a potential city-wide strike and financial instability have emerged, casting a shadow over the local retail giant of Negros Oriental.

(CONTRIBUTED SCREENGRAB LOGO COURTESY: Lee Plaza Shopping website via Internet Archive)

It is owned & operated by the Dynamic Development Corporation (DDC), was being a fixture of the Dumaguete City's commercial landscape for many years, and was opened on Thursday (September 8th, 1988 -- Dumaguete local time). At first, the only commercialized mall, which opened with grand promises and ambitions, offered a diverse range of retail stores, entertainment options and a bustling food court. Over time, it became a central hub for both shoppers and public service in the region. However, recent events have raised questions about the mall's viability and future.

In a series of Facebook status posts from early October 2023 (owned by Meta Platforms Inc.), concerns about the potential closure of Lee Super Plaza (LSP) have surfaced. These posts allude to issues related to labor disputes, financial difficulties and the mall's possible bankruptcy.

While the authenticity of these claims remains uncertain, the series of posts paints a bleak picture of LSP's future. Some posts suggest a pending strike by mall employees due to alleged unfair labor practices and unpaid wages.

Others speculate about the mall's financial instability and possible bankruptcy. All in all, OneNETnews cannot independently verify the authenticity of its potential mall issues at the time of our writing. To date, the management of the Lee Super Plaza was yet to release an official public statement addressing these concerns or confirming the allegations raised on social media. The lack of information from the mall's management was only fueled speculation and anxiety among both employees and patrons.

The uncertainty surrounding the future of LSP, sparking discussions among local residents of Negrosanon people, the city of Dumaguete, and local business owners. The potential closure of such a prominent retail establishment could have far-reaching consequences, affecting not only the livelihoods of the mall's employees but also the local economy.

(SCREENGRAB from a Deleted FB Profile Reel post)

Local authorities and a disclosed labor group are closely monitoring the situation. They have urged transparency and open communication between the mall's management and its employees to address any legitimate concerns and prevent further unrest.

The future of LSP, a beloved fixture in the said cities' commercial landscape, remains uncertain amid growing concerns about a potential mall strike and bankruptcy. While unverified claims of social media have raised their alarm, the lack of official information from the mall's management was left many in the dark.

As the story continues to develop, residents of Dumaguete City & Negros Oriental, and the broader community awaits clarification and hope for a peaceful resolution to the issues that threaten the future of the local commercial mall of the Lee Super Plaza.

PHOTO COURTESY: Rhayniel Saldasal Calimpong (Freelanced Photojournalist and News Presenter of OneNETnews)

SOURCE: *http://www.leeplazashopping.com/the-company.html [Referenced Biography via Lee Plaza Shopping website] *http://www.leeplazashopping.com/lee-super-plaza.html [Referenced Building Statistics and Mall Listing Location via Lee Plaza Shopping website] *https://www.facebook.com/100001136771991/posts/6833135736734251 [Referenced FB Status Post #1 via Roland Baldomar] *https://www.facebook.com/100001136771991/posts/6843652289015929 [Referenced FB Status Post #2 via Roland Baldomar] *https://www.facebook.com/100013046171744/posts/1748794148898774 [Referenced FB Status Post via Michelle Ragusta] *https://www.facebook.com/100071982191891/posts/333606349048769 [Referenced FB Status Post #3f via Roland Baldomar] *https://www.facebook.com/61550791796086/posts/122129861840026393 [Referenced FB Status Post #1 via Haidee Calumpang] *https://www.facebook.com/61550791796086/posts/122130175706026393 [Referenced FB Status Post #2 via Haidee Calumpang] *https://www.facebook.com/groups/948241189151942/posts/1310689909573733 [Referenced FB Group Status Post via Haidee Calumpang] *https://www.facebook.com/61550791796086/posts/122130567986026393 [Referenced FB Status Post #3 via Haidee Calumpang] *https://www.facebook.com/61550791796086/posts/122130878168026393 [Referenced FB Status Post #4 via Haidee Calumpang] *https://www.facebook.com/61550791796086/posts/122130886910026393 [Referenced FB Status Post #5 via Haidee Calumpang] and *https://www.facebook.com/61550791796086/posts/122131052630026393 [Referenced FB Status Post #6f via Haidee Calumpang]

-- OneNETnews Team

#local news #dumaguete #negros oriental #lee super plaza #shopping mall #bankruptcy #closure #mall strike #potential #retail #awareness #OneNETnews #exclusive #first and exclusive

[downtoearthmarkets]

Although this week is primarily dominated by back-to-school for many New Yorkers, there’s another main event transpiring in these parts over the weekend: the U.S. Open Tennis Championships men’s and women’s singles finals! One of four Grand Slam tennis tournaments globally, over 700,000 racket ball fans will flock to Queens to watch the games this year. While they are being treated to the spectacle of fast-paced, adrenalin-pumping tennis, they can also indulge in a dizzying array of chef-prepared dishes, cocktails and classic sporting event snacks. In fact, it is well known that the world-class food offerings are a secondary draw in attracting ticket sales for the Open! 

But don’t worry if you aren’t one of the lucky ticket holders to this weekend’s center court finals. We have the skinny on how to create the iconic refreshment of the Open — as well as those of the three other Grand Slams — using fresh, locally grown ingredients sourced from the farmers market. So, get ready to sit back and enjoy the televised games and their signature food and drinks all from the comfort of your own couch. 

1. US Open: Honey Deuce Cocktail Essentially an adult version of pink lemonade, Honey Deuce has been the official drink of the U.S. Open for nearly two decades. The centerpiece of this trademark cocktail is its honeydew melon ball skewer that perfectly replicates neon green tennis balls and transports you straight to the spectator stands. It’s peak melon season in the farmers markets right now, which means you shouldn’t have any problem selecting a perfectly ripe melon to use in this recipe: 

Ingredients (Yield: 6-8 servings) • 1 farmers market honeydew melon  • 3 cups store-bought or homemade lemonade  • 1½ cups vodka  • ½ cup raspberry liqueur, such as Chambord  • ¼ cup fresh lemon juice (from 1 to 2 lemons)  • Ice

1. Use a melon baller or mini ice cream scoop to shape the honeydew into balls. Freeze until ready to serve.  2. Combine lemonade, vodka, raspberry liqueur and lemon juice in a pitcher. Stir and refrigerate until chilled.  3. Fill highball or old-fashioned glasses with ice. Stir pitcher once more and divide it among the glasses. 4. Thread 2-3 melon balls onto a swizzle stick or cocktail skewer and immerse in the drink or place across the top. 

2. Wimbledon: Strawberries and Cream Eating strawberries and cream for Wimbledon is the famously authentic way to enjoy Britain’s biggest tennis event of the year. The tradition originated in the early 1500s under Henry VIII, who would serve the dish to guests watching tennis being played at his Hampton Court palace. It became inextricably linked to the game and has gone on to become a symbol of one of the world's greatest tennis showcases with 192,000 portions of strawberries and cream served each year during the 2-week tournament.   While strawberries are not as abundant in the farmers market this time of year as they are in spring, you may still find some at the stands of our specialty fruit growers, who plant a wide variety of strawberries to ensure they can harvest berries throughout the warm weather months. If not, raspberries are back in season and make a great substitute. To whip up a dish of this sweet Wimbledon delicacy, simply remove the strawberry’s leaves and core as necessary. Place hulled strawberries in a petite dish and pour unwhipped, unsweetened heavy cream on top. Serve with a (silver) spoon. 

3. French Open: Baguette Sandwiches In a decidedly novel cultural and sporting event approach, spectators are allowed to bring their own food to the French Open, also known as the Roland-Garros. In fact, it is not an uncommon sight to see Parisians tucking into full picnics within the stadium grounds. Of course, the classic and very French ham & cheese sandwich makes a regular appearance in the stands: 

Ingredients (Serves 4) 1 Wave Hill Breads French baguette  3 tablespoons butter, softened at room temperature  3 tablespoons Dijon mustard  8 ounces Goode and Local by Don Rodrigo sliced ham  8 ounces thinly sliced gruyere cheese  10 Pickle Licious cornichons, thinly sliced lengthwise 

Instructions: Halve the baguette lengthwise. Spread one side with butter and the other with mustard. Layer the ham, cheese, and cornichons on the bottom half of the baguette. Close the sandwich and cut crosswise into four equal portions while pressing down lightly. Serve immediately.  4. Australian Open: Peach Melbourne While Wimbledon has its strawberries and cream, the Australian Open has its Peach Melbourne. A play on traditional Peach Melba, this Aussie tennis classic is simply vanilla ice cream topped with pureed peaches and freeze-dried raspberries. It’s super easy to replicate at home as ripe peaches and fresh raspberries are abundant in the farmers market right now plus, last time I checked, vanilla ice cream is still a widely popular flavor. 

So don your tennis whites to get fully into the spirit and enjoy these signature Grand Slam recipes while watching the big games this weekend. Tennis (and treats), anyone?

#downtoearthmkts #farmersmarket #buylocal #shoplocal #eatlocal #farmersmarkets #localfood #eatdowntoearth #us open #tennis #2023 us open #grand slam #usopen

[uglymusevirgindeershooter]

[candy and roland dirty dancing in the middle of the room]

the engulfed: maybe not as fragile: not as graceful: (images slowed to a near crawl mouth full of braces: tongue red from popsicle: faith walks thru the parking lot: leaves stumbling: pissing: body supported by the dumpster: clogged: makes a cartoonish gun noise) crisis leaks: painted white lines: wrinkle: maybe its impossible to say: maybe im too stupid: too stupid 4 satire: i want amazon wishlist: the intractable: lets-pretend realism: ok lets play house: u b stairs: i will b doorway: forget to brush my teeth: what i have is much more elaborate: obsession licks every wound: (looks like heaven looks like paradise withdraw: draw curtains: stand naked at the window: perform lunatic chores: i am the sole witness: it rly is labor: what i am doing: doomed 2 waste: only children understand: the wind is blowing a small fountain flowing weakly) the tip of the nose: noise creeps thru: not quite words: (the glow from the laptop fills the room just pretend its a fuckin video game: act like ur in a movie or something: bikinis and booties: that’s what life about: spring break forever bitches: i stick the gun in ur mouth: u hold: fear of breakdown: looks as if it were taken with a crappy camera phone) already took place: the agony: silence emphasized: mall after all silver gates have closed inside out: wept for the loss: starved: (holding a bible over his head the footage is violent food court stinks: hesitate between: tyranny and oblation: cartoons for now: so amped on jesus tonight!! feeling his presence hardcore!!) condemned to chew:cheap blood and body:twelve ninety nine:

[kevindayisafrog]

Part 7 of the Kevaaron thing

TW - homophobic slur towards the end

Kevin’s days merged together in a slow downward slope of practice, sleep and lessons. His grades slipped slightly as he couldn’t procure enough energy to pick up a pen, let alone write thousand word essays and extra notes on top. At practice the Foxes resented him more as his fraying anger caused him to snap easier and cause more fights than usual. Wymack tried to bench him for a week but got tired of Kevin’s complaints and decided to let him back on court to annoy the Foxes instead. All he wanted to do was sit alone in his room so could process his thoughts, but Andrew kept a closer eye on him so he couldn’t even go to the bathroom without questions being asked. He couldn’t breathe in the suffocated dorm and the pounding noise of the court made it worse. And on top of all this the press and Raven fans dragged Kevin and Jean ruthlessly, blaming Riko’s death on them and calling them all the names under the sun. But he couldn’t complain, the Foxes’ sympathy could only stretch so far; and that ran out after one of last week’s practices ended with Kevin and Matt ripping each other into pieces.

Kevin looked out the window of the car as Andrew speeded towards Columbia with the sweet taste of Eden’s on his mind. The car radio hummed in the background as Nicky filled them all in on the latest campus gossip, but Kevin couldn’t care less. He tapped his fingers against his thighs as they turned off the highway and towards the exit for Columbia. Kevin itched to get out of the cramped car and drown himself in the strongest drink that Eden’s could provide. Andrew pulled up outside Sweetie’s and Kevin practically fell out of the car to escape the closeness of the others. “Embarrassed to be seen with us, Kev?” Nicky got out of the car and flung an arm around Kevin’s shoulders as they made their way into the ice cream bar. Kevin tried to shake Nicky’s arm off but couldn’t manage to stop Nicky’s iron grip from squeezing his arms. “Let’s get the table in the corner”, Andrew led the group to the table and shot Nicky a death glare until he dropped his arm from Kevin’s shoulder. “What? You’ve got Neil, you can’t be too greedy”, he winked at Kevin before sliding next to Aaron on the pink leather booth. Kevin looked from pair to pair and decided that sitting with Andrew and Neil might be more comfortable than having Nicky’s hands brushing his under the table. “Yay, I get to see your face better”, Nicky smiled at Kevin before grabbing napkins and idly spinning them in a lazy circle. “Hi, what can I get you today?” a short black haired waiter approached the table with menus but Andrew waved him off and ordered their ice cream without looking at the man. “You don’t have to always be a dick”, Aaron muttered as the waiter left the table to fetch their orders. “I’m not looking for charity points”, Andrew lifted one leg onto the seat and rested his chin on it as he watched the other diners. Kevin watched him for a while before reaching over and snatching the napkins from Nicky, “can you stop fucking doing that. It’s annoying”. Nicky rolled his eyes and turned to face deadpan Aaron with a smile. “Am i the only happy one here?” he looked around at the stone faced monsters and laughed as Kevin threw the napkins at him. “Behave”, Aaron growled as the waiter returned with three sundaes. “I’ll just get the other two for you”, he smiled at them before turning and leaving for the kitchen. “I’m not really hungry”, Kevin muttered as he stared down at his ice cream with a sick feeling slowly crawling up his throat. “You can’t get drunk on an empty stomach, so if you’re planning to drink away your sorrows I’d advise you to shut up and eat”, Andrew waved his spoon in Kevin’s face before turning back to his own sundae and taking small bites. “Here you go, enjoy”, the waiter slid the last two sundaes to Aaron and Nicky and quickly left the table again. Kevin watched the others eat and felt as if he would pass out from the sight of the sugary food. “I will fucking force feed you”, Andrew turned slightly in his seat and picked up Kevin’s spoon as a warning. “Fine”, he snatched the spoon back and swallowed down a lump in his throat as he scooped up the ice cream. They all ate in silence until the last person, Neil, finished eating before Andrew shoved Kevin off the seat to leave the diner. Kevin waited for Neil to slide out before following the two out into the dark street.

Aaron watched blearily as Kevin knocked back drink after drink without a thought. He never cared much for Kevin’s well-being before, but he felt somewhat responsible now that Kevin had no one else to lean on. “Heya, Kev”, he grabbed Kevin’s wrist before he could drink and pulled it away, “wanna dance?” Kevin looked at him blankly as Aaron slid off his seat with a stumble and smiled at him with a lopsided grin. “Come on, chicken”, he let Kevin set his drink down before pulling him towards the dance floor by the wrist. “I don’t dance”, Kevin stood in the middle of the dance floor blushing as people moved all around him. “Come on, let loose”, Aaron grabbed Kevin’s other wrist and pulled him closer. “Just let loose”, he repeated as Kevin stood stiffly with darting eyes. “I might go back up to Andrew”, Kevin made a move to leave but Aaron pulled him down to his level. “Don’t leave me, I’ll teach you”, he pushed Kevin back up straight and started to slowly dance with a pleased smile. “I don’t think so”, Kevin let a rare smile creep across his lips as the pint sized boy opposite seemed to ‘let loose’. Aaron rolled his eyes and placed his hands on Kevin’s hips to move them side to side. “Why not? It’s fun”, he blinked up at Kevin’s swaying frame. “People will laugh”, Kevin’s smile faded as he looked at the dancers around him. “Who will laugh?” Aaron watched as Nicky made his way down the steps. “Everyone, they’re staring”, Kevin took a step back and knocked into a drunk girl who wolf whistled at him. “Sorry”, he whispered and stepped towards Aaron again. “Everyone’s drunk, dipshit, they won’t remember. Live a little”, Aaron started swaying to the music and smiled as Kevin shifted on his feet and began to slowly sway with him. “There you go”, he laughed and standed on his toes to place his stretched arms on Kevin’s shoulders, “loosen them shoulders, you giant”. They both laughed as Kevin slowly caved in and went for it. “Nice hip movement”, Nicky stumbled over and slapped Kevin’s ass, “I like what I see”. Aaron rolled his eyes and pulled Kevin closer. “He’s mine for the night, go find someone else”, Nicky stared blankly between Kevin and Aaron before nodding with wide eyes and moving away. “Someone needs to teach him boundaries”, Kevin spoke quietly so Aaron had to ask him to repeat it. Kevin laughed and leant down to speak in Aaron’s ear, “someone needs to teach him boundaries”, Aaron nodded and blushed at Kevin’s body so close to his. He tried to step back without making it obvious and stood on a woman’s foot. “Watch it, schoolboy”, she shouted at him as her boyfriend stood between Aaron and her. “Get your own girl, dwarf”, he sneered down at Aaron how raised his fist. “Or fucking what?” Kevin grabbed Aaron’s fist and pushed him behind him. “Are you standing up for that child?” The man glared Kevin up and down before laughing in scorn. “Oh, I see, you’re fag-“, Kevin didn’t let the man finish before punching him square in the face. The girl shrieked and leapt down to aid her battered boyfriend as Kevin pulled Aaron away by the hand.

“I’m sorry”, he shouted over the music once they were back up with the others at the table. “Sorry for what?”, Andrew leaned over the table to inspect Kevin’s cut hand. “Oh, Kevvie, violence is never the answer”, he leaned back in his seat and shook his head sarcastically. “Piss off, hypocrite”, Aaron glared at Andrew before turning back to Kevin’s slumped demeanor. “I could’ve handled it myself, you didn’t need to do that”. Kevin nodded quietly before whispering. “I’m sorry”. Aaron rolled his eyes and left the table to get ice. When he reached the bar he stared at the mirror on the wall and watched Kevin reach for another drink. “For fuck’s sake”, he bit his lip as Roland walked over with a smile. “Just ice, thanks”, he watched as Roland scooped ice into a rag and tied it up. “Andrew got in another fight?” he handed the ice to Aaron with a worried expression. “No, Kevin this time”, Roland nodded quietly as Aaron left without another word. “Use this you big baby”, he pressed the ice onto Kevin’s knuckle and took the drink from his other hand. “I was drinking that”, Kevin scowled at Aaron who knocked back the drink himself and placed it back on the tray. “I don’t care, you’ve had enough to last a lifetime”, he looked at Kevin’s confused glare and pressed the ice harder to make him wince. “I’m not having this conversation, not now”, he looked away to watch Nicky make a fool of himself on the dance floor and Aaron felt a heavy pull in his chest. He knew too well about addiction denial and knew what Kevin was thinking. “Well, we’ll talk about it later”, he let go of the ice and looked down at his thighs as Kevin grunted in reply.

#aftg series #aftg fanfic #aftg hc #aftg au #aftg #aftg fic #all for the game #kevin day #kevaaron #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #nicky hemmick #nora sakavic #headcanon

[naivesilver]

(don't worry, I've got more) Twinkle (beloved): 3 for past, 5, 6 & 9 for present (yes, I DO want to hear more about Igor and Sylvester as well btw), and 2 for future?

THEE best girl in all of the realms 💖💖💖 thank you so so much, once again.

OC Asks

Past:

3. Describe their family. Who raised them, and who had the most impact on them? Did they have any siblings? Who were they closest to? What were the family dynamics like?

She doesn't really remember much about her birth family - she was born the sixth child in an Arendelle family who after hitting a rough spot couldn't afford to feed her as well as the siblings that came after. Her older brother went off to apprentice as soon as he was able, and by the time she was four she'd already been sold off to Petter, who took her back to his home in the Enchanted Forest after one of his journeys. She can only vaguely recall some flashes of her former life, like her sister holding her hand, or her mother kissing her on the forehead before she got sent away.

Sylvester and Igor did a much better job at parenting, all in all, even if they kinda received the role out of nowhere and didn't exactly read any How To Dad books beforehand.

Present:

5. What kind of people do they usually interact with? Who are their friends, the people they look up to/trust, and who are their “associates”?

The whole court, of course, branching out to the furthest corners of it, like Ava, Nicholas or little Roland. She's also on friendly terms with Grace and some other girls, but the two groups really don't mix well, so she sees them separately. Among them, she's closest to Pinocchio and Pierrot, but she's also (like most of them tbh) very protective of Roland, and she has taken on the mantle of Lampwick's second favourite annoyance. Pierrot and Lampwick are the ones more likely to indulge her passion for dancing, too - Lampwick pretends he's annoyed when she asks, while Pierrot would jump at any chance to perform, but the result is much the same. I like to imagine them finding Marco's old records while hanging out at Pinocchio's house and ending up sliding around in their socks and making fools of themselves to the sound of shit like Sono Solo Canzonette.

6. What is their current relationship with their family?

They're an extremely happy, profoundly weird family. During the curse their personal microtragedy was that her parents couldn't yet get married and that Sylvester had lost his job, and as such he feared he'd have to resort to unsavory means to keep his little girl fed.

Luckily, both problems were quickly solved after the curse was broken (I found out that gay marriage was legalized in 2012 in Maine while researching for this AU - good for them!), and the pair are extremely invested in their daughter's life - borderline embarrassing, actually. Twinkle really can't take them anywhere. When they're not being outrageously loud at her recitals they're talking about past heists during parent-teacher conferences, and they would have tried terrorizing Pinocchio out of the house when he was dating Twinkle, if the boy hadn't been raised awfully right when it came to how to treat his dates.

Honestly, the point is that while they might not be the kind of men you would entrust a child to at first glance, they remember all the little things that Twinkle needs on the daily - how to comfort her after a nightmare, her friends' names, the foods she doesn't like. They only marginally signed up for the task of raising her, but they're trying really hard.

9. What kind of place do they live in?

Their house is relatively small, but it's made even smaller by the fact that Sylvester and Igor have all sort of crap lying around that no one can find a reason for. Boat paddles? Check. Clown costume? Check. Potentially cursed items? Check. When Twinkle was small she loved rummaging around and trying to come up with outlandish stories for how they'd ended up there, and more often than not the truth ended up being even weirder.

She has her own room, though, cramped that it might be, and they let her pick the color when they painted over the house walls, so there's a lot of baby blue and pink going around.

Future:

2. Are they content with their future situation? Is there anything they would change?

Okay so the thing about Twinkle is that she became a "pave your own way" kind of girl in like, third grade, and then never looked back afterwards. This means she won't settle for anything except a future that makes her happy, even if it's unconventional and/or she has to make some sacrifices along the way for it. What matters is that her partner loves her, that there's food on the table and that she can be as good a parent to her kids like her dads were to her...and that she can go start a small scale riot if her friends need her to, as well, without worrying about someone taking it out on her family.

#bewilderedmoth #ask meme #court of misfits #the sweetest spitfire you'll ever meet tbh #thousand problems verse

[shefanispeculator]

Blake Shelton - Roland's Food Court (12.05.2020)

Nicole@gwenblakeinfo· Blake Shelton - Roland's Food Court (12.05.2020) https://youtu.be/1dG0THSlDU8 via @YouTube

[unfolded73]

Five Times Ronnie Was a Friend to David and One Time She Was a Friend to Patrick (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

"I think it's less about Ronnie disliking Patrick, and [more about] Ronnie seeing this person come in and having a huge effect on someone she cares as much about as she does David," Robinson said. "Ronnie likes to take her time and figure things out, and err on the side of suspicion." -- Karen Robinson in The Advocate

Rated Teen, 3876 words

___________________________________

1.

When Ronnie saw Stevie get out of the car that morning with David Rose, she almost spit out her coffee.

Ronnie had been going on Roland’s annual turkey shoot since before she’d run for town council almost a decade ago, when she’d shot more turkeys than any of the men on the trip and had earned a lot of grudging respect. This morning, she’d been standing there with Bob and Roland, shooting the same kind of shit they always did. Their council meetings often devolved into this kind of idle chatter, which was one of the many reasons it was hard to get anything done in Schitt’s Creek.

The day was cool and crisp and Ronnie’s thermos of coffee was warm in her hand. She was already looking forward to swapping it for beer later, after they’d hopefully bagged a few wild turkeys. Then David and Stevie arrived, and Ronnie’s attention was thoroughly diverted.

Ronnie hadn’t really spent any time with David Rose yet. She knew Johnny because he’d made a nuisance of himself at a couple of council meetings, and she knew Alexis, thanks to her court-ordered community service. (And yes, Alexis was a princess — the type of person you’d see on one of those ridiculous reality shows on basic cable. But she showed up for her community service dates and made some kind of an effort. Plus she was pretty; not Ronnie’s type and way too young for her, but admittedly enjoyable to look at.) Ronnie had even spoken to Moira, the most baffling of the Roses, a couple of times at the café. David, she hadn’t really given much thought to yet.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. She’d clocked David as queer right away, and she couldn’t say she was sorry to have another queer resident in Schitt’s Creek. But she’d also assumed he was vain and probably an asshole, and she didn’t have room in her life for assholes. Seeing him at the annual turkey shoot didn’t fit at all into her preconceived notion about him.

The way he handled a gun, that fit into her preconceived notion about him. Still, he was trying, and she had to give him credit for that. Ronnie took pity on him and helped with his grip on the gun so that the recoil wouldn’t knock him flat. And when he shot his first turkey in the neck and had to watch it slowly die, she did feel sorry for him, patting his back to commiserate.

When they paused for a break in the early afternoon, Ronnie took it upon herself to bring David a beer. He accepted the bottle with a poorly-restrained grimace. “Thanks.” His voice was quiet, the edges from earlier filed off.

“How did Stevie talk you into this, anyway?” Ronnie asked. “Doesn’t seem like your scene.”

He looked down his nose at her. “How’d you guess?”

She just raised an eyebrow and waited.

David huffed. “I don’t know. Stevie asked me, and there had been this bug thing, and… I figured if I said no, it would just confirm her assumption that I have no practical skills. And… I don’t know. She’s been a… friend… to me. So.”

Ronnie nodded, impressed with his openness. Maybe it was brought on by the trauma of killing a turkey, but it was openness nonetheless.

“Plus, I had nothing better to do,” David added.

Ronnie clinked her beer bottle against his. “Fair enough.”

2.

Ronnie couldn’t help being curious when word got around that David was starting to get things set up inside the general store, that maybe he’d be opening his new store soon, although no date had been announced. There was a lot of buzz around town about it — Brenda had been telling anyone who would listen that David Rose was a fan of the moisturizer she made at home and would be selling it under his label. If Ronnie was honest, Brenda was getting a little too excited about it given that the store hadn’t even opened yet.

Still, when Ronnie came out of the café one afternoon and saw a sign painter starting to work on the windows outside, she wandered over to have a look.

She tapped on the door, waiting until David looked up and beckoned before she went in.

Already, she could see David’s mark on the space. All the metal shelving from the old general store was gone, replaced by wood furniture that gave the store a much more upscale look. David was busy sticking labels onto bottles in the middle of the room, his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on his task.

“Hi, Ronnie,” he said, his eyes darting around nervously. “Are you here to revoke my business license?”

She laughed. “I don’t have that kind of power.” Sticking her hands in her back pockets, Ronnie rocked on her heels. “I just wanted to get a look at the place.”

David gestured around. “Here it is. There’s a lot to do still.”

She looked around at all the boxes of products, at the empty shelves left to fill. “You don’t have any help?”

“Oh, I do, actually? Not at the moment, but I have a… I guess I have a business partner now?” A furtive smile flickered on his face. “Not officially, yet. But I will have a business partner.”

Ronnie raised her eyebrows. “Who?”

“Um, Patrick Brewer? He works with Ray right now, but—”

“That guy? Isn’t he brand new in town?” Gwen just so happened to have introduced her to Patrick last week as the newest player on the Café Tropical baseball team.

David shrugged. “I guess.”

“And so you trust him to help you run your business… why exactly?” Ronnie had gotten the impression of a hypercompetitive bro type, what little of Patrick had caught her attention during the game. She hadn’t been impressed.

David’s eyes widened. “Because!” She stared at him and waited for him to elaborate. “Because he knows about taxes and grant money and food product licenses and I don’t know about any of those things.”

“So you’re going to entrust your business to him,” Ronnie said flatly, shaking her head. “Isn’t that exactly the kind of trust that led to your family losing all your money?”

“Patrick’s not going to embezzle money from me,” David said with an eye roll. “For one thing, I don’t really have any money for him to embezzle. And for another, he’s not that kind of person.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” David huffed, flailing his hands around. “Now can you please stop trying to give me more things to be anxious about? Believe me, I’m anxious enough as it is.”

“Okay.” She sighed. David was like an innocent lamb in some ways, she thought, and not just because of his fuzzy sweaters.

“Look, I know the town council would have preferred Christmas World, but—”

“Oh, that was mainly Bob and Roland,” Ronnie said. And Moira, it had to be said, but she wasn’t about to mention that to David in case he didn’t already know. “Personally, I think year-round Christmas stores are tacky.”

“Thank you.”

“Whereas this place looks like it’s gonna be…” She scanned the room again. Somehow it seemed brighter than it ever had under the previous owners. Maybe it was just that the windows were clean. “Really nice. Classy.”

David gave her a charming, lopsided smile. “That’s the plan.”

3.

“Where the hell is Bob?” Ronnie said, looking at her watch. The sooner they got this council meeting started, the sooner she could get on with her day.

“Robert does seem to have a rather dégagé relationship with the clock, doesn’t he?” Moira said, flipping the page on the book she was reading.

“How late is David’s store open?” Roland asked. “Jocelyn wanted me to pick up a couple of things on my way home.”

“I’m afraid I don’t monitor the hours of my son’s place of business, Roland,” Moira said with a bored sigh.

Roland leaned back and put his feet on the desk. “I mean, assuming they aren’t making a habit of closing early so they can get up to some hanky-panky in the back room,” he said with a snicker. And then when no one commented, he added more directly, “Twyla told me David and Patrick are an item.”

Moira finally looked up. “Are you asking me to gossip about my own son’s romantic liaisons?”

Roland was undeterred. “Just curious if the rumours are true.”

“I’m not sure which rumours you speak of, but yes, I understand that David’s relationship with his business partner has grown into an affair de coeur.”

“So you are going to gossip about it then,” Ronnie said, her chin resting on her hand.

“I shall give no further details, Veronica,” Moira said, going back to her book.

Ronnie didn’t give it any more thought until she saw David in the café a few days later. She was lingering over her breakfast at the counter when David came in and ordered a coffee and a tea to go from Twyla.

“How’s the store, David?” Ronnie asked when Twyla went to make the drinks.

“It’s… great, actually. People seem to want to buy the things we sell, which is nice.”

“Well, that is sort of the whole point of owning a store.” She hesitated, unsure if she should say anything else, but then she figured, what the hell. “The scuttlebutt around town is that you and you and your business partner are more than business partners.”

“Oh, so people are talking about us,” David said with a frown.

Ronnie shrugged. “It’s a small town and there’s not much else for people to do. You know how it is.”

He looked insulted at the idea that he would know how it is.

“It’s an awful lot to share with one person, David,” she said, because she’d been there before, when she was young. Madly in love and certain that she’d found the one, the stereotypical U-Haul lesbian, moving too fast and getting her heart broken. She’d learned the hard way.

“Are you giving me relationship advice?” His head moved a complicated dance on the end of his neck, somehow expressing his anxiety better than his words ever could.

“I’m saying that getting involved with the person who you have to run a business with can get messy when things don’t work out.”

His eyes flickered down to his shoes. “I know. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I fuck it up.”

“So sure that you’re going to be the one to fuck it up?” she asked, feeling that same protectiveness that he’d always engendered in her for some reason.

“Well Patrick isn’t going to be the one to fuck it up, he’s… perfect, basically?”

Him? she wanted to ask. Instead she said, “Nobody’s perfect.”

Twyla brought over David’s to-go cups.

“Just… be careful, that’s all I’m saying,” Ronnie said, accepting the check from Twlya and pulling out her wallet to pay.

“I will,” David said softly. “I mean, I am.” But she could tell that he was already a goner, his cheeks flushed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He also pulled his wallet from his pocket, handing over some cash to Twyla. “He’s… new at this. Being with a man,” David said, so quietly that she almost didn’t catch the words.

“Oh, boy,” Ronnie said, because she’d been down that road too. She’d been an experiment to a few girls who later decided they weren’t really all that bisexual after all. She’d been forced back into the closet by girlfriends who weren’t ready to be out. All of it sucked. She guessed David had been through his share of those kinds of relationships too.

Fighting every aloof instinct she had, Ronnie put a hand on David’s arm. “If you ever want to talk, I’m around. You can give me a call.”

David looked as surprised by this moment of tenderness as Ronnie herself was. “Thanks, Ronnie.”

“Any time, David.”

4.

Ronnie was on her third whiskey when David and Stevie arrived at the Wobbly Elm.

David was wincing as they joined her at the bar. “I hope my partner hasn’t driven you to drink, Ronnie.”

Ronnie glared at him. As if she cared enough about Patrick Brewer for anything he did to drive her to drink. “I finished the bathroom when I said I would, didn’t I?”

David held his hands up in surrender. “The bathroom is beautiful, Ronnie. The calligraphy workshop last night went off without a hitch.”

“Glad to hear it,” she muttered, her drink back at her lips.

“Will you shut up about the damn bathroom, David? We’re here to drown my sorrows, remember?” Stevie said, poking him in the chest. “Go get us drinks.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, moving down the bar to get the bartender’s attention.

“Drown your sorrows?” Ronnie asked.

Stevie sighed. “The guy I was seeing turned out to be an asshole: the Stevie Budd story.”

“Mm.” Ronnie took another sip of her whiskey. “I’d say the problem is men, but my love life hasn’t been much better lately,” she said just as David rejoined them.

“I thought you were with… what’s her name? The gravel lady,” David said.

“Karen,” Stevie said at the same time that Ronnie said, “We split up.”

“I’m sorry, Ronnie,” Stevie said, lifting her hand as if she was going to touch Ronnie’s back, and then wisely thinking better of it and dropping her hand back to the bar.

Ronnie shrugged. “It happens.”

“Wow, this has, like, never happened to me,” David said.

Stevie narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“I’ve never been the one with the successful relationship in a group of people at a bar like this. I’m always the one crying into my martini.”

“Shut the fuck up, David,” Stevie said.

“Does that sound like a thing you should be saying to us right now?” Ronnie asked, her voice going high with indignation.

“Just for that, you’re buying the next round too,” said Stevie.

“Okay.” David said, biting his lip. “Sorry.”

***

“And so apparently a casual fuck is all I was good for,” Stevie said before drawing more pot smoke into her lungs. She and David sat on the hood of Stevie’s car at the far end of the Wobbly Elm parking lot. Ronnie stood beside them, holding herself steady using the car’s side mirror and sharing a joint with these children because apparently that was how low she had sunk.

“That’s bullshit, Stevie,” David said, taking the joint from between Stevie’s thumb and finger.

“Well, you’d know,” Stevie said.

“That’s exactly it, though,” he replied before pausing to hold the smoke in. “It’s because you are such an excellent person in other ways that it would have been a mistake to ruin it with sex,” David said in a long exhale before passing the joint to Ronnie. “Or, with more sex, I mean.”

“Maybe I’m also bad at sex,” Stevie said.

“You are definitely not bad at sex. You’re great at sex,” David said.

“Really?” Stevie asked.

David nodded. “Yep. Yes.”

“You’re great at it too, David.”

“Uhhh, yeah. Of course I am.”

“I am getting such a fascinating window into your relationship,” Ronnie said as she passed the joint back to Stevie.

“I bet you’re great at sex too, Ronnie,” David said.

“Damn right I am.”

“Stevie and I tried the friends with benefits thing a long time ago,” David explained, the marijuana freeing his tongue. “And although we’re better off as friends and I’m very much in love with Patrick, that doesn’t stop me from seeing that you are the whole package, Stevie Budd, and if Emir didn’t see that then he can suck a bag of dicks.”

Stevie laughed wildly.

“Same goes for Gravel Karen,” David said, gesturing up and down at Ronnie.

“Uh huh,” Ronnie said impassively, although deep down she was pleased.

Stevie’s head dropped until her chin touched her chest. “I’m gonna have to leave my car here. We should call a cab.”

It occurred to Ronnie that she wasn’t anywhere near sober enough to drive either. She was out of practice at this whole going out and drinking in bars thing, and she was even more out of practice with this smoking pot thing. “I’m too old for this,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll call Patrick,” David said, fumbling for his phone. “He’ll pick us up.”

Which was how twenty minutes later, Ronnie found herself climbing into the back seat of Patrick Brewer’s Toyota next to Stevie, who immediately let her head fall onto Ronnie’s shoulder. David was planting a sloppy kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek in the front seat, making Patrick wipe the saliva off his face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Wow, you guys reek of pot smoke,” Patrick said, looking at Ronnie with his stupid Bambi-eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Just drive, Brewer,” Ronnie said.

“Straight men are the worst,” Stevie murmured. “Why do I bother with them?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, honey,” Ronnie said, petting Stevie’s hair.

5.

“So they tell me I have you to thank for all the extra flowers,” David said, sinking into a chair next to Ronnie as she put a forkful of wedding cake in her mouth. She caught a flash of his inner thigh before he crossed his legs, and while Ronnie had no interest in the male half of the species, she’d have to be dead not to appreciate David Rose in that skirt and those boots.

“Well, it was the least I could do,” she said after she’d swallowed her bite of cake. “You deserved a nice day.”

“And you and the Jazzagals learned our song,” David said with one of his lopsided smiles, a glass half-full of champagne dangling carelessly in one hand. “You, Ronnie Lee, stood in a room full of people and sang the song that Patrick sang to me at the first open mic.”

“That was Jocelyn’s idea,” Ronnie said with a frown. “I had to go along with the group.”

David elbowed her. “Come on. Admit it. You don’t totally hate Patrick. You like him a little bit.”

She was going to admit no such thing. “I don’t hate that he makes you happy. I don’t understand what you see in him, but I’m glad that you’re so happy.” And then she felt tears welling up again, as if it wasn’t bad enough that she had cried during the ceremony. She fervently hoped no one had seen her wiping away tears.

He grinned more widely, so she guessed she’d given him a satisfactory answer. Ronnie looked over at the dance floor, where David’s husband was currently dancing with his sister-in-law.

“I hear you’re buying the place out on O’Beirn Road,” she said.

He nodded, his face positively glowing with happiness now. “I’ve been admiring that cottage from afar for years. We’ll be moving in next month.”

“A place like that, it might need some work done. I trust you’ll come to me first if you need a contractor?” She took another bite of cake. It was delicious cake, moist and citrusy, and she savored the bite on her tongue.

“Of course we will. I have some ideas for the kitchen, although we might have to wait a year or two until there’s enough money to do justice to my vision.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to do anything that didn’t do justice to your vision.” She ate some more cake and watched David watching Patrick until she couldn’t stand it any more. “Ugh, your heart eyes are giving me a stomachache. Go dance.”

David held his hand out to her. “Come dance with me, Ronnie.”

She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and took his hand and let herself be pulled out onto the dance floor.

+1.

Ronnie had almost dozed off at her desk in Town Hall when he came in.

“Patrick Brewer,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “Shouldn’t you be off on a honeymoon somewhere?”

He approached her nervously, his hands clutched together in front of him like a supplicant. “We decided to hold off on the honeymoon until we could afford to go somewhere really nice.”

“It’s not time to renew your permits for the store already, is it?”

“Nope. I’m here about council, actually,” he said.

“Public meetings are the second and fourth Tuesdays of every month,” she said, leaning back and putting her feet up on the desk.

“Okay, but I was more curious about the open council seat. With Mrs. Rose gone.”

“There’ll be an election to fill the seat,” she said, her feet thunking back down to the floor. “Why?”

“I, um… was thinking about running.” He chuckled nervously. “To keep it in the Rose family, I guess.”

“Assuming you’d win,” she said. “That’s presumptuous.”

“Is anyone else running?” he asked, a little of his usual, annoying self-confidence showing through.

Ronnie sighed. “Not yet.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that really the reason you want to run? To keep it in the family?”

Patrick cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter. “No. Since we’re settling here pretty much permanently, I’ve been thinking about other ways I might be able to contribute to Schitt’s Creek. I have ideas about bringing more business to downtown. And David and I have gotten to know several of the farmers in the area, selling their products in the store, so I hear a lot about their concerns.”

Ronnie stared at him for another few seconds, and then opened a file drawer, pulling out a form. “You’ll need to fill this nomination form out and get five signatures to support your nomination,” she said, pointing at the blank spaces on the form. “Think you can do that?”

Patrick took the nomination form from her. “Do I think I can get five people to sign my nomination form?” he said, sounding a little bit testy. “Yes, I think I can manage that.”

“You’re a real joiner, aren’t you?” she asked, hand propped up on her hand. “Baseball, community theater, town council… next you’ll be joining the curling club.”

He smirked. “I would, but it interferes with my hockey practice. Besides, Ronnie, you do all those things. Plus the Jazzagals. I’d say it takes a joiner to know one.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Tell you what,” she said, reaching for the form. When he handed it back to her, she signed on the first nomination line. “I’ll give you your first signature.”

Taking the form back, Patrick gave her a bemused look. “I figured I’d be the last person you’d want filling the empty seat on council.”

She shrugged. “Not the last person…”

“Okay, thanks,” he said with an eye roll, turning to leave.

“I’m looking forward to hearing your ideas,” she called, making him stop and turn back. “And if you win, I’m looking forward to kicking your ass on a regular basis, just like I do in baseball.” And then Ronnie laughed, loud and long.

“Good to talk to you too, Ronnie,” Patrick said, headed back toward the door.

She was still laughing. “Say hi to your husband for me!”

#schitt's creek ff #schitt's creek fic #david x patrick fic #david x patrick ff #my fic

[emilyplaysotome]

The Game of Love - Chapter 1

Since I have a bad tendency to obsess over what I write until I give up on it, I’m posting the first chapter of something new I’ve been dabbling with. Think of it like an original Down the Voltage Rabbit Hole, without the characters you know.

Meeting someone special is hard for anyone, but more so when you’re famous.

I can’t tell you when it was that I went from being Hana to being Hana on a billboard, but it happened slowly enough that I went from eating virtually unnoticed at a restaurant to being bombarded with selfie requests during the short time I picked up my food. I suppose that being one of the youngest women to ever win a Grand Slam will force you into the spotlight, but I’ve never thought of myself as a superstar.

The goal had always been to win gold at the Olympics.

Maybe Roland Garros.

And Wimbledon.

The U.S. and Australian Open if I was lucky.

They never told me that if you win the Australian Open and then manage to win the others in the same year, the world goes mad. They never told me that Nike, Adidas, and Reebok fall all over themselves trying to get you to agree to let them put out the “Hana shoe” and you go from being a struggling journeywoman on the tour to being richer than you ever could have imagined, thanks mostly to your team who milks you for every free moment when you’re not on the court.

You learn how to wear dresses and talk on camera and carry the weight of what it means to be a champion, constantly looking over your shoulder at the younger, hungrier crowd behind you that works twice as hard and trains harder because they don’t need to be on Good Morning America when you do. Your identity becomes “Hana the Tennis Champion” and you forget who you were when you were just “Hana, the girl who loves tennis” – hitting balls after dinner with dad on the courts by your house or joking around with the girls on the junior tour.

Those girls become competition, and your friendship is forced to change despite wanting it to be the way it was when things were simpler. They are nice and you love them, but the feelings are complicated and you forget what it means to have friends who see you as you are. There is always a commitment, a show, a movie, a project, a product – even during the off season, and of course, there’s the training.

You’re grateful to be successful doing what you love, but you know it can’t last forever and one day you decide you want to go out on top and announce that you’re done with the game that up until this point has been your entire life.

And you’re only 32.

I’m only 32.

The day after I retired I woke up as Hana, for the first time in 20 years. I suppose it’s out of habit that I still wake up at 7 A.M. and go for a run, but it’s been a few months and not much has changed.

My mom suggested I get a therapist.

That this major transition would be hard on anyone, but even harder on a prodigy who has been used to a regimented training schedule since she was 11.

I laughed it off, but after a couple of weeks I could feel the unease nagging at me, mocking me, asking me, “Who is Hana if there is no tennis?”

My therapist says a lot of high achieving people struggle with their self-worth outside of their profession. She challenged me to reconnect with friends I’d made at all stages of my life and I learned that being great at one thing left little time for love, creativity, music, and hobbies.

I also learned that I didn’t make many friends in my 32 years since I was too focused, too dialed in to waste time on anything outside of the goal. To be the best in the world I had taken on the mentality that everything outside of my goal was superfluous, but now I struggle to make it through the day.

“Who is Hana if there is no tennis?”

“I am…I am…”

“What are you feeling Hana?” my therapist asks.

“Scared. Confused. Angry. Lost.”

I’d had this rosy image of retirement, where I’d leisurely wake up next to a partner and make breakfast for us. Not just any partner if I’m being honest…him.

“I wake up at 7 A.M. and run 5 miles,” I find myself saying. “Then I make a breakfast smoothie. And then I remember that I don’t have anywhere to be and the depression takes over.”

“Have you been doing interviews?”

I shrug, “Not as many. They asked me to do commentary for the U.S. Open this year and I said I’d think about it.”

“What is your hesitation?”

I pause, thinking about what it would be like to live a tournament without participating in it. To see and comment on someone’s legacy that wasn’t my own. To one day have to announce that I’d been dethroned in my achievements and smile as if it didn’t bother me, when I’d probably just wonder if I’d retired too early.

“I never wanted to be on television. And I want to be able to answer the question who Hana is if there is no tennis.”

“It sounds like this time is providing you with a beautiful gift – to explore that question and your interests without limitations.”

She’s right, and I feel guilty for pitying myself when I have the freedom to do and go wherever I want. I let out a caustic chuckle and say, “I want to live in my games.”

“The ones you used to play on the road?”

I nod, wondering how serious she thinks I am and wondering if the statement is a joke at all.

“Why do you think you like them so much?”

“It’s fun to be someone who isn’t Hana. And it’s fun to fall in love.”

“Has Hana ever been in love?”

I think for a minute and nod.

“But you knew that, didn’t you?” I ask.

She shrugs and pushes her glasses up.

“I’m asking Hana the person, not Hana the superstar.”

“But our breakup was all over the tabloids…”

“Our time together is about you, not what’s in a tabloid.”

“Superstars have to date superstars. It’s like a law,” I say laughing. “What would Instagram think if I gave them anything other than aspirational?”

I’m lying but I can’t help myself, even in therapy my pride gets in the way of being honest. Dating him was never about appearances, at least, it wasn’t for me.

“Tell me about him.”

Eight years of memories flash in my mind, 22 to 30.

“We met after I won my first major. His movie premiere had him in Australia and he got tickets to the final. We ended up at an after party together and he gave me his number. It was good until it wasn’t and then he broke up with me.”

“That’s a very condensed version.”

I shrug again, feeling bitter that he seems to have moved on just fine and I haven’t dated anyone despite the rumors that pop up from time to time. I don’t feel like talking about how I kept pushing for us to move forward, with a vision for my retirement and life with him as he kept pushing for me to stay on the road. I don’t feel like talking about how much of our time was spent apart and how I suspected he preferred things that way.

That it was better to have a girlfriend too busy to take up more than an hour of his day on a regular basis than a girlfriend who could be present the way she wanted to be when we were together.

A pleasant chime goes off and she silences the alarm, noting we’re out of time and asking if next week works.

“My schedule is free,” I joke, but I feel annoyed that there’s nothing but endless free time and nothing to do with it.

When I’m home I open the games I referenced in therapy – the ones I jokingly call “choose your anime romance adventure games” with my mom versus their proper designation of “otome” games, as they’re known with the fandom online that I’m a part of. It’s only when I’m online that I feel like I can momentarily answer the question that nags at me, and that’s because no one know I’m me.

HanaLovesOtome the tumblr user is popular because of the screenshots she posts, not because she’s one of the most celebrated athletes of a generation.

She participates in every event and has spent an ungodly amount of money on special date stories and lottery gatcha items that put her consistently in the top ten featured users of Ikemen Inc.

She’s popular because people will ask her to purchase stories and games they can’t afford, and she’ll video record herself playing or twitch live stream the sessions so everyone can get a sense of what it’s like to fall in love with Ikemen Inc.’s most exclusive bachelors.

Even when I was on tour, I loved playing otome games because for a couple of hours I could stop thinking about my life and instead lose myself in a world overseas where I get to make choices for a protagonist whose name I’ve made my own as I decide what eligible bachelor she’ll fall in love with.

I’d found the games a year before we’d broken up, mostly by chance after seeing an ad on twitter that boasted, “The Perfect Boyfriend is in your phone - meet him now!” While normally I would have continued to scroll past, something about the caption had stopped me in my tracks. Looking back it was probably because the idea of the “perfect boyfriend” being in my phone was ironic having had such a drawn out long distance relationship in which it often felt that he only existed in my life virtually.

After entering my name for the main character I would be controlling, “Decoding His Affections” thrust me into a world that consisted of a simple illustrated background, paired with a cartoon character sprite whose various expressions matched the dialogue being said in the text box where the story played out.

While the prologue of “Decoding His Affections” was free, it ended with a prompt asking me who out of the five characters I’d just met, I wanted to get to know as my Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department partner and future perfect boyfriend. For the low price of $3.99, I could purchase one of five options and determine how my protagonist would fall in love. Depending on my dialogue selections, I was either granted a “Love Ending!” or a less desired “Happy Ending!”

Throughout the course of 13 interactive chapters, Sebastian went from being my underling, to my partner, and finally, to my boyfriend. As the protagonist with my name started to fall for Sebastian, I found myself enjoying the escape from my reality with a game “self” who always met with a positive response in love.

I soon found myself lost in a world where I could be transparent with my intentions without any fear of rejection. Sebastian clearly liked my main character back, but was conflicted about falling for a woman whose time in Tokyo had an expiration date. Even though their relationship was in a grey zone for the majority of the game, he was always warm, always loving, and most importantly, had responses that gave me butterflies as I read his poetic musings from a cold hotel room after a long day of training.

Seeing as how these games were a product of Japan, in addition to the subdued romance I also found myself getting a kick out of the cultural differences that were peppered throughout the story. Simple gestures such as the time that Sebastian grabbed her hand in order to protect her from an impending explosion, resulted in a shook inner monologue where my heroine wondered if her heart was racing from the danger, or because of the physical contact. There was something sweet about this world in which men and women shared a shyness around physical touching that was unlike anything I’d ever experienced as a Western woman. Handshakes, hugs, and even kisses on the cheek were something that happened in my life on a daily basis, yet I was suddenly living in a world via my phone where every gesture was laced with romantic subtext.

It was clear that the only thing Ikemen Inc. changed in their games was the names of their clearly Japanese love interests, in order to better appeal to a western audience. Other than that, their games remained true to their point of origin.

Looking back, our relationship was already strained with me hinting towards my expiration date and him pushing me to stay on the tour. The day I’d played my first otome game we were bickering over text about it, him convinced it would be better for both of us if I refocused on my career instead of settling down with him in his Calabasas home. As I achieved Sebastian’s coveted “Love Ending!” thanks to my carefully selected dialogue choices, I surprised myself by tearing up in which I read an ending where Sebastian confessed to me, or moreover the woman I whose life I was intermittently controlling, his undying love.

I’d felt a bit foolish at the time, having fallen prey to simple plot devices and romantic tropes, however Sebastian had done something for me that my relationship could not.

He’d managed to touch that part deep in my heart that still wanted to believe that romance was possible in this world, and more importantly, was possible for me.

In the weeks to come I found myself leaning on these games more and more as it became clear that my vision for the future did not align with his, it felt like every free second I was pouring myself into my fantasy life. By the time he ended things, I’d made way through the entire Ikemen Inc. catalogue of premium games and started to make my way into the exclusives with a higher price point, more beautifully illustrated scenes (CGs), and the Ikemen Inc. community leaderboard.

I play them a lot lately.

Maybe too much.

When I log in to my tumblr I see a message from my friend KittyGirl.

OMG Hana! Did you see they released Tyler Holland?

I saw and I played and I’m posting the full vid on twitch later ;)

…

I wonder who KittyGirl is as she types, and I wonder if she ever wonders who I am. I wonder if she would care if I was Hana the superstar or if she even follows tennis.

A lot of the girls on here don’t.

A lot of the girls on here are much younger than I am.

I wonder if it’s weird I don’t have many friends my age and that the people I feel closest to at the moment are all usernames in my feed.

STOP HANA YOURE THE BEST!

I smile because it gives me a sense of purpose and I haven’t felt that for some time.

It’s really good. He might be in my top 5 boyfriends.

NO. Really!?

Really.

Sometimes I wish that the men in my phone would come to life. That one day I would wake up and Sebastian would be there in human form, not his two-dimensional anime character form. I’ve thought about what he would look like if he were real.

Not just him.

Him and all the others I’ve dated over the years.

I wonder what it’d be like to date someone you know would never leave you.

Who could be that perfect boyfriend, or husband, or father.

It’s just as I’m thinking about this again that my phone chimes, letting me know I’ve received an email. I’m surprised to see it’s from Ikemen Inc. and that HanaLovesOtome has been invited along with the four other top Ikemen community users for an all-expenses paid, one month vacation to Ikemen’s Dream Resort.

My gut reaction is to scream, “Yes!” but then I remember I’m Hana the superstar.

What would people think if they found out?

What would the tabloids write if they saw me?

I pause.

Who is Hana if there is no tennis?

Hana is HanaLovesOtome.

And so I write an email back, deciding not to loop in my management team, and let the team at Ikemen Inc. know that I would be delighted to experience the resort. The response back is immediate and includes additional details and an NDA.

I skim the details of the agreement, relieved that I am not allowed to talk about the experience as that means no one else will and my identity as Hana the superstar will most likely be off limits to the press and send it back.

It all happens quickly and before the hour is up I’ve managed to secure my spot in the Ikemen Fan 5.

In the two weeks leading up to my departure, I no longer feel depressed or as if time stretches out in a way that makes me feel small and insignificant. I have an event to look forward to and arrangements to be made.

My therapist thinks a solo trip will be good for me and encourages me to journal and continue with the homework she’s given me outside of our sessions. My mom agrees that it will be good for me to have a real vacation which is something I haven’t had in years.

I’ve seen the world through touring but I’ve never really had time for tourism.

To that point, when I get on the plane it strikes me that this is my first time on a plane without the purpose of coming from or going to a tournament. I check two large suitcases and still bring a racquet in case I need the release of losing myself in a training session or two, despite the fact my performance no longer matters.

I wear the sunglasses I always wear to obscure my identity in first class and a wig and baseball hat and n95 mask, which always does the trip. At Narita airport, I see a man holding a sign that says “HanaLovesOtome” and I follow him to a town car that takes me two hours outside of Tokyo proper. It’s only when we pull off the main road, down a long skinny isolated one that I take off my disguise and breathe a sigh of relief that I managed not to attract the attention of any photographers or fans.

In my head I always saw Ikemen Inc. as a small developer, tucked away on a floor in a nondescript office building somewhere in Toyko.

The reality of their facilities surprised me, and we drove 15 minutes through dense woodland, past another small road with a sign indicating guest and employee parking - up to a manicured property where at the center was a sleek looking high rise. My driver stopped under the porte-cochere and helped me with my suitcases, triggering the mechanism for the large glass double doors to open which caught the attention of a man inside.

“Please, allow me to be of assistance,” he said, quickly grabbing the roller’s handles and helping me in to a spacious reception area. “I’m Roman and I run the resort division of Ikemen Inc.”

“Hana.”

There was something familiar about the way that Roman talked and the way he dressed that I couldn’t quite put my finger on as he introduced me to the woman at reception and made small talk about my trip. I engaged in the idle banter until the persistent feeling that I knew him from somewhere became so overwhelming that I finally found myself asking, “Have we met before?”

“Yes,” a female voice called out behind me.

I turned to see a girl, no older than 20 approaching us with a suitcase of her own. She wore the same expression that countless fans wore upon recognizing me as they rushed up to me and asked for a selfie except she was not looking at me, but at Roman.

“He’s Roman Hinton, from Ikemen’s Paradise Palace.”

“Ah, you’ve stayed with us in Paradise I assume?” Roman asked the girl smiling.

“Oh you have no idea,” she said dreamily, and it was then that I realized my wish of dating one of the men in my phone might come true.

That’s the end of my rough first chapter. Let me know if you want to know where we go from here and I might post more. Tagging @nitelotus​ since she asked to see it 

#down the voltage rabbit hole #voltage fanfic #voltage games #voltage romance sims #voltage inc #mlqc #ikemen #ikemen sengoku

[janestudies]

✨Tag Game

tagged by @thekitchenphilosopheress thank you so much!😊 check out her studyblr, @janiesstudyblr

Rules: answer 20 questions and tag 20 people

Name: jane

Nickname: janie

Gender: female

Star Sign: virgo

Current Time: 5:51pm

Song Stuck In My Head: under pressure by queen & david bowie (i ALWAYS get songs by queen stuck in my head. always. i swear i had killer queen stuck there for a week straight.)

Last Movie I Saw: emma. i’m always up for some jane austen. it was so good-i loved it! the casting was awesome.

Last Thing I Googled: was more danico recognized by the church (i was reading about viking culture)

Other Blogs: none haha. i might make a separate bookblr at some point, though.

Do I Get Asks? i’ve only gotten two asks so far, but i love getting them! feel free to ask me anything!

Reason For My Url: i drink way too much chai tea & absolutely LOVE medieval literature. chansons de gestes (or songs of deeds) are a genre of medieval poetry that describe epic deeds and heroes. many of them are about charlemagne and the frankish court. famous chansons include the song of el cid and the song of roland.

Following: as of right now, i’m following 114 blogs

Average Amount of Sleep: 6 hours

Lucky Number: 19-it’s the number on my soccer jersey.

Currently Wearing: blue sweatpants, an oversized grey sweater, and black socks with snowflakes

Dream Job: museum curator, professor, or archivist

Dream Trip: normandy, france! i went there a few years ago and i loved it! 💕i want to see bayeux, rouen, and le mont-st-michel again.

Favorite Food: tabbouleh. there’s an awesome lebanese restaurant near my house, and they make the best tabbouleh i’ve ever had.

Favorite Song: it changes a lot; i’m always listening to new music. right now, it’s all this and heaven too by florence + the machine.

Instruments: i can play hot cross buns (very very badly) on the recorder.

Tagging: @smileystudies @valeriasstudyblr @maristudio @foucauldiannights @neuronspaghetti @gaeastudies @langtunes @chemicalengineeringbaby @clabujo @myhoneststudyblr @inspiralynotes @studiouschica @literarybeauties @studyburst

✨if anyone sees this post, feel free to do the challenge!

#studyblr #itsjane! #mine #new studyblr #studyspiration #studyspo #revision #studying

[believingispowerfulmagic]

“Building a Family” Chapter 14: Partnership

Regina's intercom buzzed and she hit the button with one hand while writing with the other. "Yes, Ruby?"

"Storybrooke's future First Gentleman is here," her assistant said. "Shall I send him in?"

"Please," Regina replied, rolling her eyes as she hit the intercom button again to shut it off.

Her door opened as Robin stepped into her office. Smiling, he approached her. "So, First Gentleman?"

Regina shrugged. "I'm Storybrooke's first female mayor. There is no term for the husband of a mayor. So I guess First Gentleman will do."

"Offering me the mayoral spouse parking spot, deciding my title...are you sure you're not proposing, Madam Mayor?" he teased her.

"Very funny," she replied, giving him a look as she stood up. Coming around her desk, she asked: "What brings you to my office?"

He pulled her in for a hug. "I was with Tink and thought I would stop by to see if you wanted to go to lunch."

She leaned back, smiling at him. "I would love to have lunch with you. Do you want to go to Granny's?"

"Can we order in? I'd rather eat and talk with you in private," he told her, rubbing her back.

Regina nodded, releasing him and reaching for her intercom. "Ruby? Can you order us two hamburgers, some fries and two drinks from Granny's?"

"Sure," Ruby replied. "What do you want to drink?"

"Coke and iced tea please. Thank you." Regina waited for her assistant to confirm the order before hanging up. She turned to Robin and motioned to the couch in her office. "Do you want to sit?"

He nodded, following her to the couch. As they sat down, he wrapped his arm around her and held her close. "I love that you have a couch in your office," he said.

She laughed, nodding before leaning her head on his shoulder. "It was a fight to get this. The council didn't know why I needed a couch. But I knew that there would be late nights and wanted Sophie to have a homier place to come to so we could be together while I worked. She's caught a lot of naps and done a lot of homework on this couch."

"I can imagine," he said, running his hand over an empty space next to him. He then looked at her with a cheeky grin. "What do you say we christen this couch one night?"

She gave him a look. "I say you're incorrigible."

"Guilty as charged."

"You're also avoiding talking about how it went with Tink," she continued, not having forgotten that tidbit. Had it gone that badly? What had Tink said?

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her. "It seems that way, but I swear I'm not. I just have a one-track mind when I'm with you."

She rolled her eyes as she scooted closer to him. "Well, get your mind out of my pants and back on the topic. What did Tink say?"

"Pretty much everything we figured," he said, wrapping his arm around her. "Marian would first have to petition the courts to get her maternal rights restored but that would be an uphill battle at this point, so it'll be difficult for her to pursue custody. Tink agrees that unofficially giving her supervised visitation is a good start and to do that for a few months before deciding our next steps."

"Okay," she said, resting her hand on his lap. "So why did you look so serious when you came in?"

He sighed. "Tink and I talked about a few conditions I could ask Marian to meet before we discuss unsupervised visitation and custody arrangements."

"Like what?"

A sharp knock interrupted their conversation and Regina glanced over at the door as Ruby entered, carrying a box from Granny's diner. She stopped just inside the office. "Where do you want me to put this?"

"I'll take that," Regina said, standing and coming around the couch. "Thank you, Ruby. Why don't you take your lunch too?"

Ruby grinned. "Thanks. I'll be in the break room if you need me."

She slipped out of the room as Regina carried the box over to the coffee table. As she sat down, Robin started to pull their food out and set it up for her. "This smells delicious," he said.

"Granny's is the best," she told him, settling against him as she picked up her burger. "Now, you were saying?"

"Right, the conditions." He sighed as he munched a French fry. "She thinks that I should have Marian go to counseling as one of my conditions."

Regina chewed her burger as she thought it over. "Well, it makes sense. It certainly sounds like she has issues she needs to work through. I mean, you were afraid for Sophie when she was around. What about Roland?"

He sighed, rubbing his face. "I do have concerns about leaving him around her, even with someone supervising them."

"Then you need to talk to her," she told him.

"I know," he replied. "I'm just remembering how badly she took it when we tried to convince her to get help for her post-partum depression. And I know how angry I'd be if you told me I needed to see a therapist before you let me go near Sophie..."

She set her burger down and reached out to take his hand. "You can't compare this situation with ours. It's not fair to you, to Marian or to Roland."

He nodded. "You're right. The situations are completely different."

"But you do have a valid concern given how poorly she's reacted in the past," she continued. "Maybe you should talk with Dr. Hopper and see if he has any tips."

"Tink recommended that as well," he replied. "She also suggested Roland and I should go see him."

Regina nodded. "I think that sounds like a good idea. You both have had a very momentous summer. Sophie and I have been seeing him for the same reason."

He paused, considering her words. "And he's good with children?"

"Very good," she assured him. "Sophie loves him—and his dog, Pongo."

"Maybe Sophie could talk to Roland before he goes to see Dr. Hopper? You know, so he's not so nervous?" Robin suggested.

She smiled, taking his hand. "I'm sure she'll be very happy to do so. You know she loves to help her brother in any way she can."

"She does," he agreed with a smile. "I don't think I could've asked for a better big sister for Roland. Sophie is just an amazing girl. Gets that from her mother."

Her cheeks heated up before she nudged him with her arm. "She also gets it from her father too."

Robin wrapped his arm around her and gave her a hug. "We really lucked out in the kid department, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did," she agreed, resting her head on his shoulder.

He sighed, kissing her forehead. "This summer has been a turbulent one but I wouldn't change that for the world. Not when it gave me Sophie and you."

She smiled, rubbing his leg. Regina didn't know what the future would bring with Marian but she knew that she would always have Robin, Sophie and Roland. They were well on their way to becoming a family and nothing would stop them until they were.

Nothing.

Continue reading on FFN, AO3 or Wattpad

#once upon a time #outlaw queen #oq ff #oq au #building a family

[ro-visiting-the-bureau]

TCR BDB19 Day 5: Crossover

This honestly is the one I’m most excited about. I've been requested, and I have answered, this is a sequel to Strange Clients, my crossover from the 2017 TCR BDB. Maybe later on, I'll fill in the gaps of what happened between the two fics, but for now, feel free to speculate.

Baron struggled in his bonds as he was brought from the dungeon to where Roland and his mother, the Lady Nix, held court. While the Bureau had succeeded in helping Princess Marianne and King Bog free their parents from the witch’s castle, Baron and Haru had remained behind to ensure the others would get away. They had initially been held together, but then Haru had been taken away to who knew where. And now it was his turn.

When he came into the throne room, he was surprised to see the place filled with people, or more specifically, fairies. They were all dressed in beautiful gowns and suits of flower petals and leaves, and were dancing to the music that was playing. But there was something off with all of them, twisted wings, or limbs too long, or a skirt laying the wrong way for the style. It was an illusion, ugliness hiding under beauty.

A path was made through the dancefloor to drag him up to the dias, where Lady Nix and her closest courtiers sat at a table, the lady herself on a throne made from blackberry wood. She had black hair like night, and skin white as snow, only emphasized by the deep purple and blue of her gown. Her lips were painted the same purple, and her eyes, the only trait she shared with her son, were a green that could almost appear blue, if she ever stepped into the daylight. She too was twisted, the ribbed pattern on her gown looking more like insectine arms linked together in sleeves, and her face moved like a mask.

He was forced to his knees before her, and she smiled. “Well, the meddling Baron von Gikkingen. How have you enjoyed my hospitality?”

“It could be better,” Baron said, pushing himself as far upright as his guards would let him. “I have not even been offered a cup of tea.”

“Oh, my apologies. We believed you wouldn’t accept one.” She frowned softly, as if in genuine concern. She was good at faking her emotions, he would give her that. And he could play the same game.

“Oh, I wouldn’t, but it’s the principle of the thing.”

“Well, I hope you will eat a little. After all, this is a celebration.”

“A celebration of what?”

“My son finally has a bride.” She motioned to her right, and Baron realized he was so focused on the witch he had ignored the others of the dias. He looked and his eyes widened in shock. “Haru!” He surged up against his guards, but they held him fast.

For it was Haru, sitting in a dainty throne next to Roland, wearing a white wedding gown and flower crown, her hair down and a veil over the back of it. She was smiling sweetly, but her eyes were blank, pupils dilated and sparkling like someone had thrown glitter into her face. She didn’t even look at Baron, her gaze alternating from scanning the dancing crowd to staring adoringly at Roland.

Roland ran the back of a hand down Haru’s cheek, then turned and grinned at Baron. “That’s right. The perfect bride, brought right to my doorstep. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Let her go!”

“I’m sorry-” Lady Nix’s voice said she wasn’t “-But the spell is permanent. There’s no counterspell, and I doubt you would be able to achieve the requirements to break it before midnight.” She grinned, and motioned with her left hand.

The guards dragged Baron to a glowing circle on the left side of the dias. Once he was inside it, they released him, and golden spiderweb formed a cage around him, leaving one lattice open for him to look out. He pushed against the webbing, but it held fast.

“Please, enjoy yourself. And don’t hope for rescue, the border guard has been doubled since your little break in.” And with that, Lady Nix turned her attention away from him, speaking with a dark haired fairy whose ears twisted the wrong way.

Baron made a few more attempts to push against the barrier, but it was no use. So he fell into thinking. What spells were there to force someone to love another. Too many the count, and too many held the same symptoms to narrow it down. The only one he could be certain it was not was primrose potion, for that did not zone the victim out so much. And while he was certain Louise and the others would come to rescue them, they would not make it in time to save Haru.

He wracked his brain for hours, ignoring the food and drink offered by Nix’s servants, for it surely was drugged as well. Each and every spell he could think of, he rejected, and while he outwardly kept himself stoic, inwardly, he was starting to panic.

He was broken from his cycle of thoughts when Roland stood, executing a elaborate bow as he offered Haru his hand. “It is five minutes to midnight. Would my bride like to dance before we head to bed?”

“Of course, my darling husband.” She rose gracefully, where Baron knew she should have tripped in that skirt, and they walked around the table to the dance floor. The courtiers briefly parted to allow the couple through, then closed ranks and circled up, that only the fact the dias was raised quite high allowed Baron to even see Haru.  

“Maestro! Music!” Roland called.

“Why don’t we let our guest perform?” Lady Nix offered, her grin speaking of a private joke, a cruel one.

Roland grinned back to his mother. “And excellent idea! If you would, Mother?”

Lady Nix snapped her fingers, and Baron’s cage moved from the end of the dias to in front of the table, just to her left. “Sing, Baron. Sing anything you want, so long as it comes from the heart, and the music will follow you.”

There was an ulterior motive here. Something that they would probably use against him. For a moment, he considered refusing, but he caught Haru looking at him, the first glance she’d spared since he was brought in. And he could not refuse her.

He closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. The band started to play, Roland swept Haru away in his arms, and Baron let let his heart speak for him.

“ Never knew I could feel like this. ” He started slow, almost hesitantly. “ Like I’ve never seen the sky before. Want to vanish inside your kiss. Everyday I love you more, and more. ” He looked up, his attention solely focused on Haru, and his voice grew louder. “ Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing? Telling me to give you everything. Seasons may change, winter to spring. ” He paused, his breath catching for a moment. “ I love you, until the end of time. ”

The music played a few moments, before the dancing couple suddenly stopped, Haru with her back to the dias and Roland looking down with a questioning look. Then a crystal clear tone Baron never expected to hear rose up from the dance floor.

“ Come what may, come what may. ” Haru slipped her hand from Roland’s who was too stunned to stop her. She slowly turned, and Baron could see the unnatural sparkle leaving her eyes.

“ Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, ” she sang, looking up at Baron. “ Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace. ”

Baron wrapped a hand around one of the bars of his cage as he began to sing with her. A moment later, the golden spiderweb began to dissolve around him. “Suddenly my life doesn’t seem, such a waste .”

“ It all revolves around you. ” Haru smiled, and he could not help smiling back. As if repulsed by the intensity of it, the courtiers who stood between them backed away, leaving a clear path across the floor.

“ And there is no mountain too high, no river too wide. Sing out this song, and I will be there by your side. Strong clouds may gather, stars may collide. ” The cage fully disappeared with a burst of golden dust, but Baron barely noticed it. “But I’ll love you, I love you till the end of time. ”

With nothing between them now, Baron and Haru started walking towards each other. Whether by the innate magic of the duet, or some other reason, no one made any attempt to stop them.  

“ Come what may, come what may, I will love you until my dying day. Come what may, come what may, come what may. ”

They met in the middle of the floor, and a part of Baron’s mind couldn’t help but contemplate the picture they made. Himself, in shirtsleeves, vest and trousers, torn and stained from his imprisonment. Haru, picture perfect in a flowing gown and veil. And they reached for each other with no hesitation, her hand finding his shoulders, while his held her waist.

“ I will love you, until my dying day. ”

Haru’s eyes were still sparkling, but it was an inner light, one he was certain reflected in his own eyes.

“Baron,” she said softly, almost unbelieving.

“Haru,” he said back, and dipped his head down to rest his forehead against hers.

“NOOO!!” An unholy screech erupted from Lady Nix, causing the pair to look up as she stood from her throne. “That spell was unbreakable!”

“Well, it seems you were wrong about that,” Haru said, pressing closer to Baron.

Just then, the clock at the top of the ballroom stuck midnight, and the courtiers started to screech. At the third chime, the doors at the far end of the hall burst open, and Louise, Marianne and Bog King rushed in, an army of fairies, goblins, and elves behind them, their battle cries adding to the din.

Baron pulled Haru to an alcove away from the fighting. Both were unarmed, and in their current states would be liabilities rather than assets.

She looked up to him, ernesty in her eyes. “Baron, do you really?”

“Yes. With all my heart.” He raised a hand to her face, his palm against her cheek.

She leaned into it, just the slightest. “Then kiss me.”

Under no power would be he able to deny her, and so he didn’t.

#tcr birthday bash #tcr birthday bash 2019 #(( Hope ya'll like this! )) #the cat returns #strange magic

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Strange Magic Monday

Borrowing random bits and pieces of other Shakespeare stories

Of course, the verdict didn't sit well with anyone. It wasn't fair, they were all aware of that. The king had been pressured into it by his court and knights, and few disagreed with the sentence more vehemently than his own daughters.

Marianne, eldest princess of the faeries, knocked gently on the door of her younger sister.

"Dawn," she called, "Are you okay? Do you...want to talk about anything?"

When she received no response, Marianne pushed the door open a crack and peeked in.

"Dawn, I-" she stopped abruptly. "Whaaaat the heck are you doing?"

Dawn hopped around the room on one foot, flapping her wings to keep her balance as she tried to pull a rough boot onto her other foot. She had traded her favorite gown for a homespun tunic and skirt, and there was a knapsack full of rather impractical things sitting on the bed.

"They can't banish Sunny!" Dawn sniffled angrily. "He's my best friend! I'm gonna go find him, and bring him home!"

Now Marianne had a decision to make. She knew the wisest thing would be to talk her sister out of this mad idea. Dawn knew nothing about surviving on her own. She'd be in danger the moment she left the palace.

But on the other hand, Marianne was angry, too. Not least because their father had listened to Roland over her.

She strode into the room and seized the knapsack.

"You can't stop me, Mari!" Dawn said, puffing herself up in defiance.

Marianne ignored her and shook several items out onto the bed.

"You need sturdier clothes. And forget the pillow. Food, water, medicine, bandages. We should only pack the essentials." She glanced up at her sister. "Our best bet is disguising ourselves as peasants, so you'd better be ready to hide your wings. They're a dead giveaway."

Dawn squealed and threw her arms around Marianne. "You're going to help me?!"

Marianne smiled and awkwardly patted Dawn's head. "Sunny is my friend too, Dawn. Of course I'll help!"

She stepped back and loosened her sword in its scabbard. "Besides, someone has to protect you."

"That's true," Dawn sighed, "I mean, we are headed for the Dark Forest."

"I'm sorry, we're what?!"

#strange magic monday #strange magic #princess marianne #potionless #eventual butterfly bog #butterfly bog #elements of As You Like It #Marianne as Rosalind and Dawn as Celia i guess #fic prompts #writing prompts