#hopefully I'll be able to do silver tomorrow

[threadbareturnbacks]

Black Sails and Facial Hair - Part 2, Captain Flint

Part 1 Here, in which I give a 1000 word history of the beard in Anglo culture and its place in defining masculinity and empire. Let’s start with the Pirate, Flint, and his journey of presenting Empire. Flint at his origin, or his McGraw, the absolute picture of 18th century moral appearance. His hair is long and neat, his face is clean, his clothes are correct for the story (though the English naval uniform didn’t exist until 1748). He is The Picture of English Empire In Our Collective Imaginations. The story tells us as much too. He’s had to be perfect in every way to get to where he is and that includes his physical appearance. He is, too, not conflicted about his place. Visually, he fits. Arguably he fits in place better than Thomas in the scenes by the docks. This is his space and he is comfortable in it. 

Compare that to when he returns from Nassau. His beard is overgrown. It’s not particularly cared for and is, in fact, the some of the most beard we see on him until S4. It wasn’t unusual for a sailor to grow a beard while away at sea, but barbers traveled with both the navy and army, and to return to polite society with such a set of whiskers is a conscious disregard for propriety. All his other actions and appearances are correct, but his inner criminality is showing. He is, in the language of beards, obscuring his true self. His sins (Thomas, rejecting perceived wisdom, wanting to start over in the Hinterlands) are starting to take precedence over Love of Country. 

And when we first meet him, 9 years later. His hair is tied back, not so long but still reasonably respectable. His beard and twirly mustache, however, is distinctly Jacobean. Strangely, besides his resistance to England itself, we never actually learn what Flint’s politics are, but we do know that Flint himself is a construct designed to be as frightening as possible to England and their ships. And in 1715, a visual Jacobite armed to the teeth is nothing if not a terrifying and direct rejection of King George I and the English State. But the longer hair still keeps him tethered to the idea of respectability (and Miranda, who keeps up the trappings of civilization despite their circumstances etc). He is caught between his two selves but neither is authentic, both require extensive upkeep and both are constructs that visually fit within a story that is not his own (the navy and his pirate persona). Remember too, his calling card is his Ninja Outfit which isn’t a ninja outfit, but the outfit of a Barbary Pirate, a North African, and those connections to barbarism and barbers. He is literally balancing the line between the Other (Barbary) and resistance in appearance (Jacobism)  

After Miranda dies, all bets are off. Friendship with civilization ended. His last ties of society are cut, literally, with a shorn head. Ironically, this is one of the more accurate cuts in the whole show - if a gentleman wore a wig, they did not have a nice tousled cut underneath a la Thomas or Guthrie, they shaved their heads to avoid lice, fleas, and other pests. But! A shorn head is also the signature haircut of, wait for it, Bedlam. He has literally cut Miranda and her tether to civilization and become wild, uncontained, and, like Thomas, mad by association. Maintaining a Jacobean flip in your ‘stache takes work, it’s always been part of his construct and theater and there is no more Flint Theater. There is only Flint. There is no going back. He is no longer pretending one way or another, he is and will be judged for who he is, not who is pretending to be. 

He keeps this cut through S4, which, even if it takes place over 5 months, is going to require an occasional trip to the barber (or Silver does it for him though I doubt Flint’s letting anyone put a knife to his throat even if it is his one and only). It’s a classic ‘devil’ cut, and one that speaks to the Faustian nature of the show, where the theme of trading spiritual torment for power is always an undercurrent. 

And finally, Flint returns “home” to Thomas by means of Oglethorpe's plantation. Apart of society, it takes the outcasts, the dregs, those that cannot participate in civilization. And in doing so, there are no longer requirements to fit within a role or story. And what do we see there? Thomas with a beard. He is no longer a member of Empire, no longer concerned with propriety. He’ll kiss a man in broad daylight. He’s wearing the outward signs of a madman. Neither of them require any trappings of civilization, they are firmly apart from it, never to return. 

This show is the gift that keeps giving and I feel like the mirrors of analysis are endless and but boy am I pushing it. 

Part One - History of Beards Part Three - Long John Silver

#black sails #black sails meta #black sails history #captain flint #james mcgraw #thomas hamilton #black sails beards #thats gonna be a tag now #i do actually need to do my job and work #hopefully I'll be able to do silver tomorrow #if you are following me i apologize for all the beard spam #this show makes me insane #im no longer responsible for my actions it's steinbergs fault

[sunny-desk]

4,252 Days Chapter 1: Day 1, Pt 1

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Fic Summary: FTWD re-written to include an OC named Gemma who has a platonic relationship/friends with benefits situation with Nick Clark and then goes on to be with Troy Otto. Chapter Summary: Gemma sees a guy run into the road and get hit by a car Word Count: 1177 Author’s Note: This is a big commitment, hopefully I stick with it. I'm excited. Gif from here.

“Please say you’re calling with good news.” Gemma can feel the pre-emptive disappointment radiating through the phone, almost hotter than the 8AM summer sunshine beating down on her as she walks along the street.

“Hello, Olivia. It’s so good to hear your voice. I’m doing well, thank you. How about you?” Sarcasm and semi-fake niceness hung on every word.

“Stop stalling, we saw each other an hour ago, you know how I am. How did it go? Did they suspect the undercut? Because I told you, Gem, it’s silly but it’s true, they’ll judge you for it.”

“It went great, Liv.” Gemma replied simply, not wanting to keep this going and make her friend more annoyed at her than she knows she already is. “No undercut suspected, zero tattoos spotted. I have to go in for a bit of training tomorrow but after that it’s a long weekend before I start properly on Monday.”

Olivia lets out a sigh of genuine relief through the phone, Gemma can tell she’s smiling as she talks. “That’s great, Gem! Really, that’s so great. I have to get back to work but I'll see you back home later, okay? We can talk about it more then. Maybe plan a way to celebrate a little? Alcohol free, of course.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Talk later.”

Gemma hangs up the phone, puts it in her navy blazer pocket and pulls her hair out of its low ponytail, replacing it with a high one, showing off the undercut Olivia spent 10 minutes stressing about helping her hide this morning. Working in a posh office where she has to hide even the most basic parts of herself isn’t exactly the dream but beggars can’t be choosers. She needs this job. She needs to get back on track.

She can already picture her life a few months from now, a little bit of money in her pocket, new clothes she’s been in need of for weeks, finally able to pay Liv the rent she’s owed. An apartment of her own is the real dream but that might be thinking too big right now and living with Liv definitely isn’t a problem. She can picture it though. Flat screen TV, dark green sofa, huge fluffy rug that feels like you’re walking on a cloud. A bit of saving and hard work at a job she’s pretty sure is going to be mind-numbing and it'll be real before she knows it. There’s a smile on Gemma’s face as she walks down the street thinking of the future. Things might finally be looking up.

-

The loud screech of tyres and the distant thud as something hits the hard road takes Gemma out of her daydream and back to reality. It’s like time freezes for a few seconds as she stops in her tracks, taking in the scene before her.

Black marks on the ground lead up to a small silver car stopped in the middle of the road. Its windshield is smashed and Gemma is pretty sure there’s a small dent on the bumper too. The driver is sitting there, shock on his face, probably not sure if what just happened is his own fault or the fault of the person who just bounced off his windshield and is now laying almost unconscious on the concrete. The other people in the area have stopped too. Some look annoyed that their morning has been disturbed, others look horrified.

There’s a quick rush as time starts again and Gemma runs towards the car and the fallen boy. On closer inspection, he looks rough. No shoes or socks, a half-torn, baggy, white shirt, ill-fitting jeans, hair that seems to not have been brushed in a few days. Gemma peers over her shoulder at a building across the road. She’s been living in the area long enough to know where that boy came running from. It likely wasn't the driver's fault. But it probably wasn’t the boy’s either.

He’s laying on his back, staring up at the sky. Gemma leans over him.

“Hey. Can you hear me? It’s okay. You’re okay,” She says, though she’s not sure that’s true. He looks quickly around him, as much as he can while still laying flat on the floor, and then looks Gemma in the eyes for a second, like he’s checking for something. “Just stay still.”

Looking up, Gemma realises that other than the driver, who took a few seconds to build up the courage to get out of his car and check the damage, she is the only person who has rushed over to help.

“What the hell are they all doing? See a lad get hit by a car and just stand there, seems reasonable, ugh,” she mutters angrily to no one in particular. Looking around quickly, scanning the small crowd, she spots a woman with her phone in her hand and points, “Oi, you, phone someone! Now!”

“No, I’m fine,” the guy mumbles as the woman lifts her phone to call and begins walking over. She hesitates slightly at his comment.

“Ignore him. He’s been hit on the head. Call them.”

He starts trying to sit up, probably faster than he should. Gemma crouches down and reaches out, preparing to attempt to catch him if he starts falling backwards. She makes a mental note to buy some work trousers that she can properly bend in with her first pay cheque. Liv can have these one’s back, if they survive the day.

“I’m fine. I’ll just.. I’ll walk it off, you know. Thanks.” He’s distracted when he says it, not fully in the moment and not looking at Gemma but instead surveying the area once again, searching.

Gemma pretends not to notice. “Walk it off? In whose shoes?” She says it playfully, trying to distract him from whatever this is. He doesn’t seem right. And he can’t just get up and walk this off.

He pauses and takes a look at his grimy, bare feet. “Have you never heard of shoeless hikes? You should try it sometime. It’s great, really.”

Gemma smiles slightly. “Sure it is. Listen, just lay back down, okay? Or at least just stay sitting. You don’t know what could be wrong. The ambulance will be here soon.”

“Nothing is wrong. Uh, I’m Nick, you’re British, it’s.. Tuesday..?” He counts on his fingers. “Well, it’s definitely a weekday. See? Everything..” He starts looking around mid sentence, “...is,” distracted again, more searching, “… fine.”

Gemma follows Nick’s gaze and realises he’s looking at the old abandoned church longer than he’s looking in any other direction. So her assumption was right, that is where he came from.

“I’m Gemma. It’s Wednesday. Stay put.”

Nick turns his head back in her direction. He slumps like he’s lost his fight, exhausted, or has decided whatever he’s worried about doesn’t need worrying about right now. He doesn’t say anything as he lays back down on the floor, giving up his attempts to leave. The shrill sound of an ambulance siren can be heard in the distance.

-

As the ambulance pulls up, accompanied by a police car a dozen feet behind it, the driver of the car finally finds his voice. He’s been standing there for a few minutes, nervously smoothing out his work suit, trying to think of what to say. He speaks fast, trying to get everything out before anyone official gets within hearing distance.

“Listen. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you, okay? You seem fine.” He turns to Gemma. “He’ll be fine, right? Nothing needs to come of this. I’ll just... be on my way.”

“Spineless.” Gemma mumbles under her breath before looking back at him. She may not think the incident was necessarily his fault but there’s a way to handle it and it’s not this. Looking directly at him, eyes cold, she continues, “I don’t think you’re going anywhere mate, the police are right there. They’ll want a word, I’m sure. And look at him. Does he look fine?”

Nick is still laying on the floor, not moving much. It's like the adrenaline and shock have finally worn off, leaving him aching all over, able to feel what just happened to him.

Gemma continues. “And unless you fancy running some more people over, I don’t think driving off in that thing is a good idea, do you? You won’t be able to see anything out of that window.”

The man turns back to his car, noting the huge area of smashed windshield, and runs his hand through his already slicked back hair, uncomfortable. Nick ignores what Gemma has just said and looks at the slightly dishevelled man, mumbling a response, “It’s whatever, man. I have bigger things to worry about.”

Gemma looks to Nick, wondering what those bigger things are. You’d assume it was potential head injury or internal damage from being thrown onto the concrete by a hunk of speeding metal but Gemma doesn’t think so. Nick was concerned about something, being hit by a car wasn’t anywhere close to the forefront of his mind.

Before the man can decide what to do the police and paramedics have closed the distance. The police go straight to him, the medics to Nick.

“Okay then, what do we have here?” Says the commanding voice of a tall blonde woman striding over. She’s carrying a large bag of any potential medical supplies Nick may need immediately and is being followed by a man and a stretcher.

“His name is Nick. He ran out into the road and got hit by a car.” Gemma quickly responds.

“Nick, can you tell me how you’re feeling? Let me take a look at you.” The paramedic bends down to Nick. She checks his eyes and makes a ‘hm’ sound.

“I feel fine.” Nick says while she continues looking him over. He doesn’t sound fine. His voice has gotten weaker the longer he’s been laying there.

“Right, okay,” unsurprisingly, the paramedic isn’t convinced. “We should check you out properly anyway. Getting hit by a car can cause a lot of damage you can’t necessarily see. Let’s get you on this stretcher and then we’ll be right on our way to the hospital, okay?” She says it firmly, it’s not really a question. But Nick doesn’t seem to be in a position to argue anyway.

Gemma stands back while the paramedics get Nick up onto the stretcher and as they walk him the short distance to the ambulance she instinctively starts to follow. No one questions her getting into the ambulance with them and taking a seat, not even Nick, who looks over to her but seems to mostly be in his own world now, thinking about who knows what. Maybe he’s thinking about nothing, in too much of a daze. Or maybe, like Gemma, he’s thinking about the church.

#fear the walking dead #nick clark #nick clark x reader #nick clark x oc #nick clark imagine #troy otto x oc #Troy Otto #Troy Otto x reader #- not going to tag troy again until i get to him actually being in the fic just wanted it to be known that he'll be in it at some point #mine

[dragonwritersblog]

Dress

Funnybunny Week Day One: Wedding . It was just them, no one else. They didn’t need anyone else for this moment. If word got out about what they were about to do then Caine would find out, and all hell would break loose. It was best this was kept secret. Only the stars were witnesses for something as special as this.

Read on AO3

Hey ya'll! I'm still kind of on a break but I wanted to put a pause in it to participate in this year's first ever funnybunny week! This event was created by my good friend Ann, who created this on twitter. If you wanna take part in this, whether its art or fanfics etc, you can check it out here. Anyways, I hope you enjoy day one and hopefully I'll see ya'll tomorrow! <3

.

Say my name and everything just stops, I don't want you like a best friend - Dress by Taylor Swift

.

It was just them, no one else. They didn’t need anyone else for this moment. If word got out about what they were about to do then Caine would find out, and all hell would break loose. It was best this was kept secret. Only the stars were witnesses for something as special as this.

Jax and Pomni stood outside, bare feet against the plush grass as a warm breeze floated past them. The rabbit was wearing  a white blouse underneath a black blazer and trousers, while the jester had gotten rid of her hat and changed into a beautiful starlight shimmering dress with long sleeves and her long skirts trailing behind her along with a sparkling cape on her shoulders. 

In his hands, Jax held a small black box, holding onto it carefully as if it was the most precious cargo he ever had in his life. In this case, for him, it certainly was. 

He opened the box, two small wedding rings gleaming beneath the star-filled night. “Pomni,” he started, his heart already skipping a beat at her soft smile. “I might not be able to make this nightmare of a place go away, but I can promise you this. No matter what, I will be by your side. No matter what I will protect you from anything Caine throws at us. No matter what, I will love you more than anything else in this world and the next. You are the sun and moon itself Pomni, you make my life brighter every single day and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you, will you accept this ring,” he held up the gold band, “And be my wife.”

“Yes, a thousand times yes,” a few tears streamed down her cheeks, Jax was pretty sure that he was going through the same thing. He slipped the gold band onto her tiny finger, kissing her hand and reveled in the way her pale cheeks turned into a strawberry hue. 

Pomni picked up the silver band from the box, this time it was her turn to speak. “Jax, I know that I’m not a perfect person. I get scared easily, I run when things seem dire, I become overwhelmed by the smallest things. But out of everyone, you’ve always been by my side to help me. Sure at first, you weren’t my favorite person,” she giggled at his fake offended gasp, “But over the months, I felt like you were the one who understood me the most. In a way, you were the most honest with me about this place. Soon, I got to know the layers underneath you. I know that despite your reputation as the resident jerk here, you still appreciate it when someone asks you if you’re okay. You absolutely love hugs even if you try to hide it, you turn into a real octopus whenever we cuddle at night. And when I wake up after a nightmare, you always say the kindest things to me, making sure that I feel safe enough to fall back to sleep. When we get out of here, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So please, take this ring, and become my husband.”

Jax carefully took her hand, guiding her to slip the ring onto his finger before taking both of her hands into his bigger ones, “I do, always and forever.”

“Always and forever,” Pomni repeated, her lips drifting closer to his.

Jax shivered as her breath washed over him. Unable to hold himself back, he swooped her up into his arms and pressed his lips against hers. Pomni returned the kiss with the same amount of passion, holding him tighter while he ran his fingers through her hair.

After a while, the two finally separated, laughing quietly as they pressed their foreheads together. 

It was just them, no one else. They didn’t need anyone else for this moment, this moment where two kindred spirits finally became husband and wife. Eloping under the midnight sky, away from Caine’s all seeing, prying eyes. 

Even when the sun would rise, and they would pretend that this night’s events had never happened. The warmth that the two shared could never be taken away. The love that they have will always be there.

Always and forever.

#funnybunny #funnybunny week #funnybunny week 2024 #jax #pomni #pomnijax #the amazing digital circus #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #dragon rambles

[fabbyf1]

Howdy, Besties 🫡

I hope everyone is doing well and staying hydrated!

I am taking a much needed vacation as of tomorrow morning until the end of the month. (I AM FREE AT LAST!!!!!) I probably won't write very much while I'm there.

BUT HERE'S THE GOOD NEWS:

I have a quick little Lestappen PWP in the works for you! I've finished writing it; it just needs to be edited. I think you are going to enjoy it. I think it will also make you scream... (in a good way), and I'm very excited to see your reaction. I'm a fucking meme if I've ever seen one. This will most likely be posted tomorrow night (Friday PST). Hopefully, this can hold you all over until I get back home 😈😂😎

I've started working on a longer plotty fic again! But it's going to be a different pairing this time around. I hope that's okay with you all. I know many of you are only here for Lestappen, and that's okay! I love Lestappen, and I'm not done writing for them by any means. I have lots of fic ideas and WIPS for them. They're my fav ship to write for. I have just owed @takenquicklys a Maxiel fic for a while now... 😂

I'll still be lurking around these streets while on vacation, bothering you all, and posting cursed content. I'm not planning on disappearing. I'm just not going to force myself to write (for once). If it happens, it happens, but I'm not planning on writing until I get home.

ANYWAY... my plotty Maxiel fic will probably take a few weeks to write, but in the meantime, here's a little snippet for you. I hope you'll enjoy it, even if you're only here for Lestappen! This fic is a little angstier than I normally write... but it will still have lots of Fabby Fluff.

Enjoy besties and have a great weekend!

When Daniel decided to leave Red Bull in 2018, Max was... confused. He wasn’t hurt, necessarily, but it was hard not to take it a little bit personally. Because nobody leaves Red Bull Racing to go to a mid-field team. 

It had to be at least a little bit personal. 

Their last season together got a little rough around the edges. After being teammates for so many years, they were bound to come together on track every now and then. It was nowhere near the battle of the silver arrows back in 2016, but every time they came together in 2018 seemed to be worse than the time before. 

They could usually move past it.

They would ignore each other for a day to cool off, and then they’d pretend like nothing ever happened.

It was good.

It was working.

But some incidents were harder to move past than others.

(Well done, Baku.) 

After Daniel left, things got better. They were able to just be friends again and not worry about being teammates. Max became the veteran of his team and saw new teammates come and go, and Daniel had great results for Renault. 

Everything was going great for both of them. 

But then McLaren happened. 

McLaren took a lot from both of them. 

For Daniel, it took away his pride. It took away his confidence. It turned this tall, cocky, king of the late-breaking man into a too-small, too-skinny, twitchy-on-the-break-pedal kind of guy. It was hard to watch at times. 

To make matters worse for him, everyone compared him to Lando. Which wasn’t fair because Lando had been with McLaren for years. Lando already knew how to get the most out of that shit-box of a car. Daniel still had to learn. 

For Max, it was hard to watch his best friend hit rock bottom. Especially because Max was having such a great year in comparison. He was leading the championship for the first time. He was winning every weekend, his race suit was always damp with champagne, and he was confident that he would become World Champion at the end of the year. 

2021 was the best and worst year of his life. 

He won the championship, but he lost his best friend. 

Fucking McLaren.

#WIP Snippet #woooooo exciting things in the works!!!!!

[jiwoomk]

hi everyone! first let me start off by saying congratulations to the admins on the grand opening of magickai! i'm super excited to be among the first few apps/muses accepted tonight and can't wait to start writing with everyone!

i'm em {21+, she/her, central} and i play (obviously) kim jiwoo here! i'm still working on her pages such as the one for her background and her plots but i'll be getting to those either tonight or tomorrow for sure! until then i can at least give you her profile page with the few basics and even some info down below which will hopefully help a little with plotting/threading something out for now! i'm mostly available nights and weekends (my weekends consist of friday, saturday and sunday) though if you ever need to reach me feel free to hit me up on tumblr dm's, discord (available upon request) or twitter (upon request). for now, i'll be listing a few facts about jiwoo here to get us going, maybe even add in a few connection opportunities as well which will be labelled as so.

if you'd like to plot, feel free to even like this post and i'll come find you! i can't wait to get jiwoo out there and can't wait to start writing with all of you!!

jiwoo was sort of known as the 'black sheep' growing up in her family. her older brother was always the 'genius' of the family even when it came to getting his powers/companion, mastering his abilities a bit quicker than most.

because she was mostly pushed to the side, even more so when her brother would bring home awards/certificates from school, jiwoo was basically free to just do whatever she wanted while growing up. she didn't have to worry about really getting good grades (though she still did excel in her classes but never expected any sort of appraisal from her family), she would even often hang out with the 'wrong crew' while in middle and high school.

even though her brother was known as the 'favorite child', the two of them still were close. he would even do what he could to try and get jiwoo in the so-called spotlight, but his efforts never worked and their parents focused solely on him. jiwoo never once despised her brother because it wasn't really his fault that their parents preferred their son over their daughter. {open connection for an older brother | junior+}

it wasn't until she gained her powers that her parents finally gave some sort of acknowledgment of her existence, though it was only because they found out that she was able to manipulate curses. they were only worried that they would end up being cursed by their own daughter, but it was even more apparent that they wanted nothing to do with her, even more so when they were quick to 'ship her off' to jeju as soon as enrollment day came around.

after that day, not once did her family contact or visit her, nor did they invite her to family gatherings. the only way she found out that these events were even happening where from her older brother, though maybe due to their bond or his own reasons he never would attend these family gatherings. rather he would spend time with her, the two celebrating the holiday's together instead.

despite still having her brother around, especially since the two now attended the same school, jiwoo only used her parents' lack of love for her to help push her forward. she was determined to better her own skills, both magically and physically, and vowed that she would show them one day that they were wrong for the mistreatment that they gave her over the years.

jiwoo's weapon (or rather weapons) consists of dual pistols. one of the pistols is black while the other is a more white/silver, both with gold accents/trimming and different designs on both. at first she wasn't too sure about wielding around guns in a fight, but over a short time she grew used to the two pistols, so much so that she now frequently practices with them when she's alone.

there's only a select few that jiwoo willingly got close to/befriended over her time at the school so far, though when it comes to others she's not really someone to take the time to actually approach them. it could be because of how she grew up, getting used to just the loneliness and accepting it, though no one really knows what's going on inside of her head half of the time. {possible connection of friends + some enemies who think she's arrogant | open to anyone + multiple}

when jiwoo isn't busy working or practicing, she can mostly be found either gaming or taking photographs during her downtime. it's her way of relaxing and giving herself some time to clear her mind, even more when she's stressed or feeling 'down'.

jiwoo is very blunt with her own words, often times being a little too blunt and not realizing it until she's said something wrong, though she's also stubborn and will refuse to openly apologize. maybe you'll get a note later on with "i'm sorry" on it but who knows.

her fashion mostly consists of more comfortable/casual clothing, partially because of having to wear a uniform of sorts while bartending at her job.

she's the type who will defend those she cares for and is close to, basically she'll fight anyone who dares harm those she has an attachment to.

there's more to jiwoo here but i'll leave those small details to her pages (when i finish them) and plotting dm's!

#mk:intro #「 ✦ 𝐁𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 ✦ 」 — ooc

[attentive-dragon]

I'll remember it tomorrow

Thinking about that post I commented on, how a great idea will pop into a writer's head, and they might think "I don't have time to write that down today, but I'll remember it tomorrow." I learned the hard way that this way lies regret: I've lost more great story ideas this way. I've cultivated a habit of writing ideas down as soon as I can when I have them. This often means quickly typing something on my phone's notes app right after getting out of the shower, or recording a voice note in the car. It's a terrible feeling to know you had a really clever way of untying a particular Gordian Knot, or a really fun bit of dialogue, and just can't remember it anymore.

This has had some weird impacts on my writing process. I've already spoken elsewhere about how I finished a book (and was about a third of a way through its sequel) when I realized this wouldn't be book one in my series, but would stand as book four (probably.) So already my writing process is out of order. But: it gets worse than that.

I have my entire series planned out, more or less, all the way through an estimated thirteen books. Some of those books I have detailed outlines for. Some I have a couple paragraph summaries. Some just a sentence or two. But the overall arc of the entire series is something I've known for quite awhile, and some of the major events that will happen along the way are things I've already thought up.

So, sometimes my brain will deliver tidbits of those later stories to me, and I have to write them down immediately. Just the other day, a bit of conversation from what will probably be book 12 or 13 popped into my brain, and I had to write it down. I actually really like this little bit of dialogue, and when I finally (hopefully) get that far in my series, I'll be really excited to finally get to use it.

Because of all of this, the writing "progress" on my series is a bit odd. I keep making little side-trips into later books to add things as they come to me, and it means that later books often have a lot more completed than one might expect, considering I have yet to actually publish my first book in the series:

Book one ("The Yellow Earring") is complete, at 71260 words

Book two ("The Silver Sword") is about halfway done with 44427 words

So far, so good. However:

Book three has 27965 words written

Book four (as mentioned above) is complete with 145943 words (and this one obviously still needs much editing.)

Book five has 34846 words written so far

Book six has 6359 words, because I really needed to get a scene written that WOULD NOT LEAVE MY BRAIN ALONE

Book seven has about a thousand words written

Book eight has 6686 words, again, because the first chapter sat down one day in my brain and refused to leave until I acknowledged it.

And of course, the aforementioned short bit of dialogue that will probably go somewhere in a planned book 12 or 13.

There's a part of me that wants to be frustrated about this: after all, if I've written so many thousands of words in later books, couldn't I have better spent my time writing thousands more words in the book I'm currently working on?

I've learned to silence that frustration and embrace the process. One good example of why this works for me is actually in the book I'm currently working on though. I was still working on book one when a really clever idea came to me for something in book two, and I ended up writing an entire scene. It was months before I had finished book one, and gotten book two to the point where my characters finally arrived at that scene, but once they did, I was able to use that previously written scene skeleton as a framework to carry the story forward. If I hadn't written it down at the time, I may not have remembered what I'd wanted to do there, and there's a good chance what I would have written wouldn't have pleased me so much.

Everything I write will get used, eventually. At least, that's my hope. That scene from Book Two finally getting used seems to support this. I just need to trust that my brain knows what it's doing as it doles out these tidbits of story to me out of order - and I also need to make sure I'm making the time to intentionally write in my current book and not letting myself get carried away with things yet to come.

And maybe more importantly, I need to actually focus on the process of getting Book One published. My brain loves these bits of story, the tales they are all a part of, and the characters living within them. I'd like to think some other folks' brains will as well.

#writing #writing process #writing community #writing fantasy #carthian dreams

[cherokeegal1975]

The Grey, WIP 7/3/23

I only managed the base coat for the wing in the dark field. Hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to do more that's actually noticeable. The color theme is mostly in opposition to the background. Not completely though.

Her robe is grey. That wing in the white field will be black. So is the flame on the same side. A gold half on the halo for the white side, a silver half for the dark side. The mask reference will remain as is as far as color. I found a face to put under the mask so i can have eyes peeking out. Hard to see here. I'll make a close up of her face later on. Right now, it doesn't matter much. The frame isn't done. I need to trace everything in dark gold and then I can delete the reference that's washing out the gold base coat. I have a tool that will permit me to work four corners all at once. Sometimes it doesn't work the way it should, but for line work, it seem to do okay most of the time. Just don't try to color with it. I think it's called a symmetry tool.

I'll have to retrace the black wing. Just the inside lines with dark purple or dark grey. I'm going with purple. Also plan on drawing everything out first before I do anything else. Base coats too. I think the references I picked up are messing with my program so the layering tool is acting up. I'll delete references as fast as I can to hopefully fix that problem. I did check another drawing in progress where I didn't get any online references at all, and it's giving me no trouble.

I don't think this has to be a D&D character. I'm not too familiar with all the board games out there. Only have a small idea of how D&D is played. Liked the 80's cartoon version and got a laugh out of it when the characters briefly showed up in the latest Dungeons and Dragons movie. I haven't finished that movie yet. I could, but for whatever reason, I haven't come back to it yet. Liked the movie so far though.

#cherokeegal1975 #digital art #fantasy #work in progress #d&d original character

[greypetrel]

Oooh tell me about Aisling and Raina's clothing styles and eating habits?

Hello!

With pleasure! :3

Dividing into two for easiness. Aisling clothing style will come with a post... Who knows when, hopefully soon! (A spoiler tho: "Everything changed when the Inquisition nation attacked.")

Everything is under the cut because IT LONG.

Tis the prompt list

Aisling

Clothing style: She likes tailoring more than anything else, so clear lines and very shaped forms in bold, dark but saturated colours, Wool, velvets and the occasional Brocades, something with a body to it. She's not much for jewelry because it annoys her (she's practical), but she likes tiaras, and some necklaces. A scarf on and very well covered, she suffers the cold and will get covered. She's very practical, so she won't go for frills or fancy clothing because she can't work with them, and she really cares little.

But, particularly as Inquisitor, she came to consider fancier clothing as an armour of sort, making her look more like the Inquisitor she ought to be. She still will go for cleaner, smoother and more classic styles.

In matters of fashion history, she'd be all for 1920s, fancy patterns, but simplistic lines. Her palette goes in teal, deep warm forest greens tending to blue, warm yellows, purples and blues, greys.

Oh, also.

She came to appreciate skirts very gradually. Very very gradually. No amount of insistance from Leliana and Josephine and jabs from Vivienne brought her to wear shoes. She wore slippers at Halamshiral. And hated every minute of it. Won't wear anything she's not comfortable with or in a style she hates, the shoes were the exception and she strongly refused stockings ("If I have to explore I'll take the shoes away and I can't run or walk in silk stockings")

In the DadWolf AU, she'll be a metalhead when she'll reach her teenage years, so imagine a lot of band tees, chokers, black black black, a more punkish inspired wardrobe.

Eating Habits: Coming from a Dalish clan, she values food a lot. Will eat anything and anywhere because you don't know if you can't eat tomorrow or you won't be able to get many fresh things bwcayse you're running from slavers and hunting is dangerous and needs to be kept to a minimum. She doesn't particularly like pickles, but will eat them anyway. I picture the Lavellan as more Indian-like (she's adopted, again), so everything in Haven felt a little bland to her. She never complained tho, food is food, just asked extra mustard when she could.

In the Inquisition after a moment of settlement over so much food, she adopts the sane eating habits of a Hobbit. Six meals a day including snacks. She's the hugest sweet tooth, LOVES citruses and fruit desserts in particular. She has two secret candy stashes in her room she stores with biscuits and candies and long-term conservation sweets. One is not so secret, meaning that Sera discovered it and started helping herself. So she made another one, the first has stuff for guests and she keeps it full for Sera... The second is very secret and for her and Cole when he comes around, he won't tell.

Oh. She WILL check that you've eaten. Keeper training coming in full force. Will check everyone ate, will prod you if you didn't. She made friends with Cullen because she noticed that he was skipping lunches and made it her mission to bring him food and check he was eating. When he got clear that she didn't do it just with him or out of pity/considering him weak or in need, they made it a habit.

Raina

Clothing style: Leather, wool, or silk if she wants to be fancy. Strictly masculine clothing, she's a butch lesbian thank you very much. Will get rushes from wearing skirts, she feels VERY uncomfortable in it and walks very badly in heels (Leandra tries to teach her. She did her best. Never could do much.). Has a thing for military styles, structured jackets, tight pants and high boots.

Will fill herself with spiky jewelry in silver and black, no stones.

She's practical too, but with style, spiky things, she wears a very strict palette of deep, vivid reds and black, with tans from leather. But if she can have her armours and leathers dyed black SHE WOULD. Practical clothes with lots of pockets because she'll be dead before wearing a purse, will buy clothes from man's section, lots of secret places where to hide daggers. Secretly into Lacey, frilly lingerie, but will die before admitting it with anyone else that's not Isabela and Merrill.

She'll wear a gown if Bela or Merrill will ask her to.

Regency male clothing would be her fancy historical choice. Otherwise, pirate fashion. In a modern day AU? GRUNGE.

Eating Habits: Trash raccoon habits. She'll eat whatever and whenever, doesn't stick to meal times if she's not reminded of them, but eat when she's hungry, slip in the kitchen and sack the pantry.

In a modern AU she'd probably survive with instant ramen and frozen meals badly cooked. Will digest even you if given the chance.

Doesn't like sweets very much, loves spicy foods even if she can't really bear the spiciness. Will eat Thai food crying and snotting, red as a beet, and say she's loving it.

Orana quickly got the hang of it and has a habit of stacking the pantry with sandwiches and snacks Raina can eat when the urge comes. She LOVES how Orana seasons tomatoes, and her bruschetta, will ask her to put diced tomatoes dressed in oregano, olive oil and thyme everywhere, in all meals.

Once she scared Fenris shitless when he was sneaking out of Garrett's room and headed for the door, and she popped out of the kitchen, arms full of stacked plates, a slice of bread in her mouth, in full darkness and silent because she was barefoot. And that's how she knew her brother and Fenris got back together.

#oc ask game #aisling lavellan #raina hawke #characters headcanon #Aisling is a grandma disguised in a young person really #except she can't cook past VERY BASIC survival and it won't necessarily be good

[sapphicneige]

So, just another short update with some updated information on my writing progress.

I have decided to delay the next chapter of end of a life for a little while. This chapter needs a lot more work than I can actually put in at the moment, but I will be working on it whenever I get a chance. I can't say for sure when it will get updated, but it will definitely get an update in the future. I still have 8 chapters that have a 1st draft written after all, and I am only delaying because I care so much about this story.

In search of silver linings, we discovered gold will receive a new chapter either today or tomorrow. The first draft is written up, and a snippet will go out slightly later today.

My AvaTrice fic's first chapter will be released sometime next week, as well as the next chapter of You're my safe and sound.

After that, I might be able to get maybe one more chapter out before the end of the year, but I am not going to promise anything. Work is about to become incredibly busy for me due to the Christmas period, and I don't see myself getting too much writing done, but I will do my best.

Well... that was a little longer than I intended it to be... but hey, that's a common theme for me at the moment xD. I'll see you soon, hopefully!

#erin rambles #writing updates

[champhangman]

Recipe for a Perfect Christmas - Part 9

Title: Recipe for a Perfect Christmas Part: 9/12 Theme: Day #9: Tree / Decorating Fandom / Character(s): AEW / Nick Jackson x OFC Warnings: None. A little cursing? Word Count: 4,585 Soundtrack: Spotify Previously: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Summary: In the space of six months, Natalie Gibbs lost her fiancé, her job, her apartment, and what little bit of cheer she had. Moving back home after being on her own for years, she hopes to get back on her feet after the holidays. But a nosy best friend, a stubborn coot of a father, and a handsome new neighbor might change her plans, her holidays, and her life. Notes: My entry for day 9 of @12daysofchristmas

The Tag Crew:  @adampage / @cowboyshit / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy /  @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @wardl0w / @hotyeehawman / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger  / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting / @hurricanranabaybay / @linziland13 / @bastardkingbrutalizer /  @snarkandsarcasmftw / @rubyred1980 / @champnick / @edgecution / @nething4perfection / (please drop me an ask/send me a message/reply to my post if you’d like to be tagged)

***

Part 9 – Grown A Little Colder

Natalie stared at the long box sitting in the foyer while the UPS driver walked, whistling, towards his big brown truck. Confused, she found enough clarity to shut the front door then turned and continued to stare at the box. Along the side, in bold letters, were the words that told her what the box contained, but she couldn't quite believe it. It was addressed to her father, who hated artificial trees, so there had to be some sort of mistake.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and checked the time. Just after eleven, which meant he would be leaving the bakery in about an hour. Thursdays were half-days for some reason she had never understood. She wouldn't bother him at work. She would wait until he got home and start questioning him. There had to be a logical explanation. He'd bought it as a gift for someone? He was going to put it up outside? He'd bought it for the bakery – No, that couldn't be it, there was already a tree up at the bakery. She and Kris had decorated the previous day, Kris going so far as to make paper Santa hats to go on the photos on the walls.

She gave her head a shake and pushed the box out of the walkway. Maybe he had bought it because when they'd gone to buy a real tree he hadn't liked any of the ones available. She had thought the plan was that they'd go out to the tree farm outside Fairview and pick one out there. Pushing the boxed tree out of her mind, she went upstairs to get laundry. She was distracted by her laptop, which sat on her old desk mocking her for not opening it but once since she'd gotten to Bells Creek. With a sigh, she picked it up and sat on the bed, ignoring the urge to go to Facebook and take a peek at life in Halifax.

It wasn't as though anyone from there had done more than send her two or three texts in the first couple weeks to see how she was. She had hoped someone would think of her if they heard of a job opening that fit her skills, but either there were none or no one had thought of her. Going to sites with job listings, she began clicking through page after page and grew more and more disheartened. The jobs that were available required more experience than she had, or more education that she'd attained. And all would require her to move to Halifax, Richmond, Charlottesville, D.C., Atlanta, New York…

Did she want to move?

Before she could ponder that question, her phone began to ring. She pulled it out and smiled at the sight of Nick's name.

She wasn't sure she wanted to move.

"Hey," she greeted after accepting the call. "Working hard?"

"Not anymore," he quipped with a chuckle. "I just put in the last strip of baseboard in the master bedroom."

"Really?" The news cheered her. This meant the house was officially finished in time for Matt and Shayna and the kids to move down for Christmas. She knew it would be a wonderful surprise for them, because Nick had said he'd told them it wouldn't be ready until right before New Year's.

"Yep. It's done." He gave a tired, relieved sigh. "I gotta clean and finish getting the decorations up, but it's done. I'll do that today hopefully then surprise them tomorrow when they come down."

"That's great, Nick," she enthused, closing the laptop and shoving it aside. She didn't want to relocate.

"I was thinking…"

"Oh?" she asked when his voice faded and she heard him clear his throat. "You didn't hurt yourself did you?"

"Ha-ha," he muttered.

"What were you thinking?"

"We should celebrate."

"Celebrate what? You finishing the house?"

"Yeah. Maybe dinner? I could cook for you."

"Sunnyside up eggs and toast?" she asked with a grin.

"I can cook more than that," he said. "Nothing fancy."

"I don't like fancy."

"Then I'm definitely your guy." His grin was evident in his voice.

Her guy. She liked that. "Dinner sounds great. What time?"

"You can come over whenever. I'm kinda hoping you'll take pity on me and help me with the decorating."

Natalie laughed. "So dinner's payment."

"And celebration."

"I'll be there in a few hours. Dad will be home in a little bit so I'm gonna make sure he eats a proper lunch and I have a couple chores to do." The laundry mainly. She wasn't sure yet how two people went through so many clothes and towels. Pushing herself off the bed, she went to grab the hamper. "I'll text you when I'm on the way."

After a few more minutes of chatting, during which he hinted that he'd like her to stay for more than dinner, she ended the call and tossed her phone onto her bed. Her steps were light as she went downstairs to start a load of laundry, and she had turned on the old stereo and put on a CD of her favorite Christmas crooners when her father got home. Bouncing into the foyer, she grinned when he shook his bright red knit cap at her in time to the music.

"For I've grown a little leaner, grown a little colder, grown a little sadder, grown a little older," he sang with a nod. "And I need a little angel sitting on my shoulder. Need a little Christmas now…"

She remembered a time when the instrumental break meant he would grab her hands and lead her in a dance. She thought of the appointment made for three days before Christmas, when they would schedule his surgery and run all the necessary preoperative tests. Had she known how to properly pray, she would have prayed that he would be able to dance with her next Christmas. "Hey," she said, moving forward to kiss his cold cheek. "This box came for you."

"Doggone it," he sighed, looking down at the box. "I was hoping it wouldn't come until this afternoon."

"Is it for your second family?" she teased.

"No, I got to thinking…" He took off his coat and hung it up, then reached for his cane. "I don't have it in me to keep up with a real tree this year. Watering and trimming and then dragging it out."

"I would—"

"And, well," he went on, tapping the box with the tip of his cane. "I went to see Tommy the other day and he has one just like this. It's real pretty when it's plugged in and decorated. So I ordered it."

"A fake tree is never coming into my house," she stated. "I'd as soon throw Granny Wilma's old ornaments into the fire than I would have a piece of plastic that doesn't even look like a tree."

"Ah," he grunted with a shrug. "Always got my own words to throw back at me."

"Can we put it up today?"

"You can, I'll sit on the couch and direct."

"I knew you'd say that," she muttered, beginning to push the box into the living room.

Chuckling, he carried the folder he was holding into the living room and set it on the small table next to his chair. "While you get started I'll go heat up some lunch."

"Wait, no, Dad, I'll—"

"I feel good today, sugar."

"Okay," she relented.

She had to move the console table in front of the front window where the tree always went. She had just pushed it into the dining room to deal with later when she heard the microwave beeping. Knowing her father lingered over his lunch if he didn't have to go immediately back to work, she took her time finding places for the knickknacks that had been on the table. The potted plant she carried to the foyer, planning to carry it up to her room later. She put the framed photos of her grandparents on the bookshelf, and carried the small silver-framed picture of her mother to set it on the table next to her father's chair. Reaching into his pencil cup to find the box cutter he kept there, she groaned as several pens spilled to the floor. When she bent to retrieve them her arm brushed the folder, sending it and its contents to the carpet as well.

She shoved the pens back into the cup then gathered the scattered papers. About to push them into the folder, she paused when she saw the letterhead of a lawyer in Halifax. That made no sense. Her father's attorney was based in Fairview. Her eyes dipped and scanned the opening paragraph of the letter.

As per your vocal agreement with my client, Matthew Jackson, during our conference call on November 22, I have had the enclosed contract drawn up. Please peruse at your leisure, and feel free to contact me with any questions. I encourage you to confer with your counsel, Mr. G. E. Jefferson before our meeting to sign, notarize, and transfer the first payment on December 18. I ask that you please note the following points:

Matthew Jackson. Matt. Before she could stop herself, she turned to the next page, heart leaping to her throat at the bolded words that leapt out at her. Her father's name, then Matt's, then Gibbs' Bakery. Struggling to understand, she sat back on her heels and read the page slowly, hand slipping over her mouth to cover her shock as it sank in what she was reading.

Matt was buying the bakery. Not outright, if she understood the wording correctly. Her father was transferring everything into Matt's name after a down payment, then monthly payments of a base amount, a small percentage of sales being added for the first fiscal year. After which time the percentage would be terminated, and the monthly payments would continue until the agreed-upon price was paid in full.

The papers slipped from her hand and she didn't pick them up. Her father was selling the bakery. The bakery, which had been in his family for three generations. The place he had once said he wouldn't close until the day he drew his last breath. She supposed that statement had been true, as it wasn't technically closing. But why hadn't he told her? Why hadn't anyone mentioned it?

"Natalie, sugar, is there anymore of that pie from last night?"

He sounded so normal. As though he weren't effectively ripping her heart in two. As though he hadn't outright lied to her, because hadn't he shrugged off her questions about what business Matt was buying? He hadn't said a word about thinking of selling, and she knew that was partly her fault for not keeping those lines of deep communication open. It hurt, though. It hurt as bad as, if not a little worse, than him keeping how damaged his knee was from her. She had at least known his knee was bad, had known he needed surgery. But to keep this from her completely? To pretend nothing was going on? Why?

Snatching up the papers, she lurched to her feet and went into the kitchen. Her father was at the island counter, dishing up a slice of the pie they'd had for dessert the night before. He glanced up when she sucked in a breath. His brow furrowed, his smile faded, and when he saw what she was holding the pie slice fell to the counter.

"What's this?" she gasped, slapping the papers down across from him.

He looked at them, then up at her. "Sugar—"

"You're selling the bakery."

"I have to."

"Why?" Natalie blinked hard to keep the sting of tears at bay. "Because of your surgery? Because you'll be out for a couple months? I'm here now, remember? I'm not—"

"You're looking for another job. You'll find one. Maybe not right yet, but you will. And you'll get it, because you're brilliant and people like you. And then you'll be gone." He lowered his head. "Again."

"Dad…"

"I'm not doing it because of the surgery. I know it could stay afloat with me having to take weeks off for recovery. I didn't plan on you coming home, but I had talked to Sammy and Kris and they were willing to work longer hours to keep things going until I could get back. And now you're here, and you're doing great. But—" He sighed. "There's no guarantee the surgery will go well."

"Dad, they do millions of joint replacements a year."

"Yeah, but not on my joints. Accidents happen. Doctors make mistakes. Old hearts give out. It's a fact, Natalie."

"Don't talk like that," she pleaded. She couldn't take it. Not right now.

"I'm not being depressing. I'm being honest with myself. Yes, it could go great and next year at this time I'll be dancing on air. But it could go bad. And I'd have to close up the shop."

She opened her mouth to point out that she was with him, that she was helping, that she could obviously do the work needed to keep the bakery running. Then she remembered that she hadn't been at home when those fears and worries had festered in his mind. She hadn't been around when he had made the decision to sell. And he was right. She was looking for another job. And even though she was disheartened, she knew she would eventually find something. She might even leave again, if she had to.

"When you were born, I only wanted one thing for you," he said, haphazardly scraping the dropped pie onto the plate. "I wanted you to be happy. Yes, I wanted to raise you into a baker like me, like my parents were, and my grandparents, and my great-grandparents back in Italy. I knew you would be our only child, and looked forward to the day I could hand the keys to you. But you didn't want that."

"Oh, Dad, I'm—"

"Don't apologize for not wanting what I wanted for you. It was my dream, not yours. You had your own. I knew you didn't want the bakery, and I knew I didn't want to close it down. I hemmed and hawed for months. I couldn't tell Ashley I was thinking of putting it up for sale, because she would have broadcast it over town before I could walk out her office."

Natalie choked on a laugh. Ashley was wonderful, and her truest, best friend, but she did have a bit of a tendency to blab.

"Then one day this young family comes in. It was a slow day, and they were nice, and we got to talking. Matt's always wanted to own a bakery. He and his wife both have always wanted to live in a small town. He knows about running a business, he's got a good head on his shoulders, and he's damned good at baking."

"Is he?"

Leonard picked up a dishtowel and wiped the counter clean. "Him and Shayna came the next weekend and he showed me some of his recipes. After I closed for the day we went to the kitchen and…" His smile was almost one of pride. "He's better than I was at his age. Then they found the Harris place was for sale, and when he showed up to talk to me about getting a job right when I was thinking of calling Ashley to talk to her about selling, I figured it was fate."

"But why didn't you tell me?"

"At first I didn't think you'd care."

"Are you crazy? Of course I'd care."

His eyes steeled. "The day before you moved out to go to Halifax, you said—"

"I know what I said," she whispered. It had been almost ten years but the memory was fresh. Her telling him she'd gotten a part-time job at a magazine, and that she was leaving the next day to get an apartment and have her college transcripts transferred so she could finish her degree in Halifax. Her father asking who he was going to get to replace her at the bakery. And her answer, bitter and cold.

I don't give a damn about the bakery.

"I give a damn now," she said in a small voice. Too little, too late, she knew, but it was true. She did care. She had even then, but she'd been too wired up on the chance to grab her dreams that the words had spilled without censor. Maybe she hadn't cared as much as she did now.

"I have to do it, Natalie." He kept wiping the counter, and she remembered him repetitively kneading the dough he'd been working when she'd announced her sudden move. And the thudding clang when he'd thrown the overworked dough into the trash.

"Who else knows?"

"Tommy. The lawyers. The bank. And a few folks down at the county office, because I went last week to put his name on the license."

"Does Nick?" she asked.

"Of course, he's Matt's brother." Her father stopped wiping. "I thought he would tell you if I didn't."

"He didn't." She wondered why. And, suddenly, she needed to know. Spinning on her heel, she left the kitchen, ignoring her father's voice when he asked where she was going. She went straight for the front door, snatching a coat from the rack and pulling it on while shoving her feet into her boots.

"Natalie."

"I have to go out for a few minutes."

"Don't be mad at him."

"I'm just going to talk to him."

"He's a good man, sweetie. He probably didn't want to get mixed up."

"He should have thought of that before sleeping with me," she snapped, jamming a hat on her head.

"Natalie—"

"I'll be back later. We'll put up the tree." Not that she felt like decorating. Or celebrating. Flinging open the door, she stepped outside and closed it firmly behind her. Fueled by indignation, she ignored the brilliantly colored Christmas flags snapping in the breeze and the vivid red ribbons adorning lampposts and wreaths as she walked up the street. She passed the bakery and felt her heart break all over again. Matt would change everything, she thought, stopping to look at the shopfront. The battered old counter that her great-grandparents had built and installed themselves, where each member of the family had carved their name with a pocket knife. The photos and knickknacks that had been added to over the years, showing how it had changed with each generation. Blinking back tears, she turned and proceeded to the yellow Victorian on Halifax Street.

She barely heard Penny's bark of greeting as she marched up the walk. Stopping short when she saw Nick standing on the porch railing, she watched him stretch out one arm, then caught the multicolored glow of a strand of lights. Something bumped into her leg and she looked down, finally noticing Penny. She gave the dog a distracted head rub, watching as Nick stepped off the railing.

"Hey," he greeted, looking and sounding surprised when he saw her. "What do you think?"

"Looks great," she said flatly, resuming her march up the walk. She saw lights wrapped around the step railings, and saw the sunlight glint off lights in the shrubbery in front of the porch.

"Come on in," he said, opening the door. Penny, panting, darted from her to the door then back again, tail wagging manically, as though Natalie needed an escort. Nick waited until she'd stepped inside before entering, closing the door gently. "Did you forget to text? Not that I'm complaining, but—"

"What business is your brother buying?" she asked, eyes on the stacks of clear bins in the front hall. Each were labeled neatly, and she could see inside to what were countless decorations. Decorations she had agreed to help him put up and arrange. Through the living room doorway she could see a large tree set up in front of the window, and on the couch was covered with boxes of ornaments.

"Oh." Nick's joviality faded.

She turned to face him, anger surging again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Natalie, let me explain."

"Okay. Explain."

"I knew it was a secret, okay? Matt told me that Lenny didn't want everyone in town knowing. Because there would be a million questions that he didn't want to have to answer every time someone came into the shop."

"I'm his daughter," she reminded him. "You could have told me."

"Exactly. You're his daughter. He should be the one to tell you."

"He didn't."

Nick's brow pinched. "Then how—"

"I saw some papers from a lawyer and…" She huffed. "Okay I knocked them down while getting something then saw what they were. Some contract they're apparently going to sign this Friday."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, Matt wants me to go with him."

"You should have told me, Nick. God, you listened to me go on and on about how I was getting the hang of the bakery stuff. You even let me talk about placing an order for supplies. Supplies!" She groaned, cupping her hands over her head. "Supplies that your brother probably doesn't want or need—"

"Natalie—"

"You knew I was doing everything I could to help Dad! You didn't think to tell me that I didn't have to worry? That by the end of the year it wouldn't be my problem?"

"I thought about telling you. But it wasn't any of my business. It's a deal between Matt and Lenny, I'm not involved."

"Okay, but you're involved with me. That makes it your business," she pointed out. "God, did you have a laugh over how I was staying up late studying paperwork to know what I needed to do while Dad was recovering from surgery?"

"I would never laugh about something like that," he said, frowning. "If anything it's made me admire you more. Because you told me you used to not care about the bakery. That you were so glad to be gone from it when you got your chance to leave. But I've seen how happy helping Lenny makes you. And how happy it makes him. I know not telling you has been eating at him—"

"Yeah, he's been real torn up," she snorted. "I've been such a fucking idiot."

"You haven't," Nick insisted. He stepped toward her.

"I have. I've been losing sleep and getting headaches trying to take a crash course so I could keep the bakery going for him. I've got so many notes on what gets done when…" Jamming her hands into the pocket of her coat, she felt slips of paper and pulled them out. The notes she had made the evening before, on times and temperatures, and how many folds she had done on the croissants. Crumpling them into tiny balls, she dropped them to the floor. "And for what? Nothing. Because in a couple weeks it'll be Matt's job to do it. He'll do everything differently so he won't need my notes. He'll change everything from the name to the prices to how the inside is decorated—"

"He's not changing anything."

"Yeah, right." Snorting again, she stepped away when he reached for her arm.

"Natalie," he sighed. "He doesn't want to change a thing because he loves how it is now. All he wants to do that's different is put a picture of himself on the wall and add a few of his own creations to the menu."

"First it'll be a picture and a few of his things, then it'll be changing the décor and fazing out all the things my Dad created."

"Honey, please—"

"Don't call me that," she gasped. "You and Matt just breeze into town and take everything, don't you?"

"What?" He made a gurgling sound that sounded like a swallowed laugh. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The bakery. This house. The dog," she said, though Penny had hurried out when she'd begun her ranting. "Me."

"We didn't – Natalie, you're upset."

"Of course I'm upset! Wouldn't you be?" Staring up at him when he didn't answer immediately, she shook her head. "I'm beyond upset. I'm pissed off. Mostly at you!"

"Why me?" he asked gently.

She wanted to scream because he was being too calm. Did the man never get mad? "God, Nick, I opened up to you! I told you things I've never told anyone. And then I slept with you. Right there!" She flung one arm out to gesture at the living room. "And never once during any of that did it occur to you to tell me what was going on behind my back?"

"It wasn't my business to. I knew it would upset you, and I knew it would strain the relationship between you and Lenny. I couldn't do that to you, not when I've seen how hard you've both been working to rebuild it."

"We were building something too," she whispered.

"Were?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Were." She sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to cry.

"Natalie, don't—"

"Not anymore."

"Please, no, let's talk about this," he said, frowning when she shook her head.

"I gotta go," she gasped. She was going to cry. Her throat was closing up and her nose was burning.

"Can we talk later?"

She turned her head, not wanting to see the sadness in his eyes. And she didn't want him to see her cry. Again. "No," she said dully. "I've said everything there is to say."

"But—"

"Goodbye," she managed, pushing past his arm when he reached for her. Opening the door, she flinched when she heard the clicking of Penny's claws on the floor behind her. She pulled the door shut, heart squeezing at the sound of a little whine. She almost turned back, almost reached to open the door and say that yes, she did want to talk about it. Instead, she crossed the porch and went down the steps, keeping her eyes in front of her. When she reached the sidewalk she quickened her steps. She didn't know where she was going, exactly. She wasn't ready to go back home and see or talk to her father. And she couldn't go back to Nick. Tears escaped and she angrily brushed them away, following the sidewalk to the corner. She heard bells ringing, and a car that drove by had a festive bow on its antenna.

She continued walking, head ducked, ignoring the few people that greeted her. When she reached the tiny building down the next block from the bakery, a block from where Main Street turned back into Route 1110, her steps slowed. She saw the familiar Land Rover parked out front and before she could think of a reason not to she pushed open the glass door and walked past the receptionist, who barely looked up from her magazine, and through the open door of the office at the back.

Ashley's face registered several emotions in succession. Surprise, happiness, shock, worry. "Natalie? Babe, what's wrong?"

Natalie opened her mouth but couldn't figure out which words to say first. Her friend frowned, tossing her phone onto the desk and standing. Then she was walking around to where Natalie stood. Reaching to close the door. And when her arms wrapped around her in a loving embrace Natalie let her tears fall.

#aew fanfiction #nick jackson fanfiction #my fics #multipart: RPC #12daysofchristmas #late omg #but better late than pregnant???

[geniusgub]

bite//pp

“Babe?”

I sit up quickly, pushing my books off my lap at the sound of my boyfriend's hopeless sounding voice. "Peter? What's wrong?"

"I-I can't come over tonight." He sniffles. "I'm sick."

"Yeah, you sound really sick." I sigh, resting my elbow on my knee and my chin on the heel of my hand. "Well, I want you to get better. So just relax, okay?"

Peter let's out a cry, sobbing into the speaker of his phone. My heart breaks as he does. He always tries to keep his weakness to himself to stay strong for me. So if he's crying like this to me, I know something is wrong.

"Okay." Peter chokes out.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too."

But two days pass and nothing has changed. Peter misses school and cries every night and morning to me. He says he's too afraid to talk to May because he knows she'll take off work and they need the money for rent. So he locks himself in his room and lies to her, telling fake stories about his day at school.

On the second day, when I call him after school and he's still sick and crying, I hang up. I grab an empty backpack and fill it up with things that could make Peter feel better.

I then tell my parents I'm leaving and run to Peter's apartment.

I wind up on the fire escape, looking in. Peter's room is an absolute mess. There's clothes everywhere, tissues on the floor, bed not made. I sigh, knocking gently on the glass.

It takes a moment for Peter to pop his head out of the connected bathroom door. He trudges to the window and pulls it open just a bit, allowing me to open it fully.

I slip in, closing it behind me. I immediately wrap my arms around Peter's waist, holding him as tight as I can. "Oh, my love." I coo, feeling him almost collapse into my embrace.

Peter buries his face in my neck, his body shaking. "What's wrong with me?"

"I don't know, baby." I sigh, pulling away from the hug and placing my hands at his cheeks. "But I know that you need to relax and stop stressing, that's why I'm here. So go lay in bed and I'm gonna clean up a bit. Do you need anything?"

Peter shakes his head, allowing me to lead him to his bed. He falls onto the blankets, pulling them up to his chin and closing his eyes.

While he rests, I bustle around the room and clean everything I can. I even make my way into the bathroom and clean everything Peter could have touched.

Of course, just as I do that, Peter comes barreling into the bathroom, falling to his knees and throwing up into the toilet.

I sigh, rubbing his back. I hand him a towel when he falls back against the wall, tears streaming down his cheeks. I wipe his mouth off, flushing the toilet.

"It's okay, it's okay." I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"I'm so scared. What's wrong with me? What if I'm dying?"

"I don't think you're dying, baby. Just a stomach bug, I'm sure."

"I can hear your heartbeat." Peter suddenly blurts out, pulling away. "I-I can- it's so loud."

"P, that's weird." I respond, sitting back on my heels.

"I haven't noticed that until now." Peter furrows his eyebrows.

"You haven't really been around anyone in two days." I respond. "Let's go back to bed, okay?"

Peter nods, pushing himself up and trudging back to bed. Before he can curl up, though, I give him a fresh pair of clothes. I'm sure he hasn't changed recently.

"Do you think maybe it could be food poisoning?" I ask, sitting beside him on the bed.

"I don't think so. Unless I ate something bad and I didn't know." Peter says, grabbing onto my hand, pressing his lips to my knuckles.

"Why don't we go to a doctor tomorrow? I'll skip school, we won't tell May, and we'll figure out what's wrong with you."

Peter nods, yawning. "Okay. Sounds good."

"Yeah, get some sleep. Hopefully, you'll feel better."

Peter tugs on my hand, silently telling me to join him. So I crawl under the covers and rest my head on Peter's chest, leaving a kiss on his cheek. I drift off to sleep with my boyfriend's arms around me.

///

"Babe! Baby! Wake up! Hey! Wake up!"

Peter's whisper-yells wake me up from my nap. I reach out, expecting to feel him beside me, but I only get cold sheets.

"Mm, Peter." I breathe out, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. "What's wrong? Are you sick again?"

"Look at me!" Peter exclaims, no longer sounding sick, but incredibly excited.

I pry my eyes open and look around, finding nothing but Peter's room.

"Up here!"

My head snaps up and I find Peter on the ceiling. I let out a scream, watching Peter jump down to the floor and stick the landing perfectly.

"Peter, what the fuck?! How did you do that?!" I scream, cowering back against the wall, still on the bed.

"I don't know!" He shrugs, grinning. "I woke up and I just felt perfectly fine! And their was a bug on the wall, close to the ceiling, so I went to catch it, and I clung to the wall! Don't know why, don't know how but I stick! Look!"

Peter launches himself at the wall, sticking perfectly and then crawls back up to the ceiling, dropping to his feet.

My mouth just hangs open.

"Isn't that awesome?!"

"Peter, that is so weird. So abnormal."

Peter's face falls a bit. "Y-You don't think it's cool?"

I let out a sigh, crawling out of bed and standing in front of him. "I mean, sure, it's cool. But you have to admit that it's not normal."

Peter hugs himself. "I guess it's not."

I snap my fingers, getting an idea. "Why don't we call Tony Stark? He deals with people who are-"

"Abnormal." Peter mutters, turning away from me and grabbing a hoodie from the back of his chair.

"Peter, stop." I sigh, sitting on the bed again. "You know I love you, but this is not normal. You were throwing up and crying a few hours ago and now you're sticking to the wall? Your climbing up to the ceiling? I just want to make sure you're okay, and Tony Stark deals with stuff like this."

Peter nods. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But how are you gonna contact Tony Stark?"

"I don't know, but we have to try."

///

A week later and I finally was able to contact Tony Stark. It took a lot of calls, some emails, some missing classes, and a call to the personal assistant of Pepper Potts before I could actually get to Tony.

"Why am I speaking to a teenager?" Is the first thing Tony says when he gets on the phone with me.

I roll my eyes. "My boyfriend, Peter Parker, is- uh, special now. He was sick, throwing up and had a high fever for two days. Then he took a nap, woke up, and realized that he could stick to the walls and the ceiling. He can hear my heartbeat loud and clear at all times, and he can hear conversations perfectly when he's two rooms away. It-It's very weird. Is he okay?"

There's a moment of silence before Tony speaks. "And how did he get these powers?"

"He doesn't know." I take a look at my bedroom door to check that the knob is locked so my parents can't come in. "He said the only thing he could think of was that he got bit by a spider at school but-"

"That." Tony remarks. "That is it. That's it."

"Um, what? You're saying Peter is like this because he got bit by a spider?"

"I'm gonna have my assistant, his name is Happy, bring you and your boyfriend up to the Avengers compound."

My eyes widen. "What?"

"Happy is gonna pick you and Peter up on Saturday and bring you up to the compound. And Peter is okay, don't worry. I just wanna meet him. Thanks for the call." And then he hangs up.

///

Saturday rolls around, so I make my way to Peter's apartment so Happy can pick us up.

"This is crazy! We're gonna meet Tony Stark!" Peter exclaims as he leads me down the stairs, his fingers intertwined with mine. "He's, like, my idol!"

"I know." I laugh, following after him. "Honestly, all I care about is that you're okay."

"I'm more than okay!" Peter grins at me, pushing open the door to the street.

There's a sleek black car in front of the building, and a man standing right in front of it. He pulls off his sunglasses as he sees us, smiling.

"I'm Happy." He introduces himself shortly, then opens the back door for us.

Peter and I slide in the backseat, looking around the incredibly high tech car.

"This is gonna be a great day." Peter breathes out with a smile, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

"It seems that way."

///

"I've been waiting for this day!" Tony Stark cheers as Happy leads us into the compound.

"Hi, Mr. Stark." Peter grins, holding out his hand, to which Tony shakes it. "I'm Peter, this is-"

"Yes, yes, I've talked to your girlfriend before. Nice to meet you." He shakes my hand now. "We're gonna get straight to business, follow me."

Peter takes ahold of my hand again and we follow Tony up a staircase and down a hallway. We end up in a room with a lot of technology in it, which looks incredibly expensive.

"I'm gonna cut straight to what you wanna know." Tony says as he sits behind a desk, leaving me and Peter standing in front of him. "There's a crazy scientist who did some weird experiments on some insects and animals, including some spiders. Well, his lab got fucked with and everything got released. I'm almost positive that you, Peter, were bitten by one of these mutant, almost, spiders. Now, it's given you superhuman powers. There's nothing wrong with you-"

"Then why was he sick and throwing up for two days straight?" I interject.

"Peter's body was adjusting to the new substance in his body. It made him sick, but he's fine now. You're fine, right, kid?"

"Other than the fact that I can hear that Happy just parked the car, I guess I'm fine."

"That's your enhanced hearing. You're gonna have a whole new set of skills and enhancements now, things like sticking to most surfaces and a spider sense. And that means that you'll be able to sense something is going to happen before it actually does. And that's just two of the things that you'll gain."

Toy walks over to the wall and opens a drawer, pulling out two wristbands. "Put these on."

Peter drops my hand and quickly puts the thick silver wristbands on. Once they're on, they expand so that there's a little button hovering over his palm.

"Now aim here." Tony says, pointing to a blank section of the wall. "And press down on that thing with your ring and middle finger."

Peter gives me a nervous glance before turning towards the wall. And as soon as he pressed down on the band, some white substance goes shooting across the room, connecting the wall to the wristband.

"This is awesome!" Peter exclaims, looking back at me again.

I smile, nodding, I find a seat and cross my legs, watching Tony Stark teach Peter how to operate the web shooters.

And to think, all this came from a little spider bite.

#peter parker #tom holland #spiderman #thanks for reading

[ecofinisher]

Next Step - RollanxGerda oneshot

I don't know what to do, so I decided to write this as a one-shot :3 As most of you on Instagram see, I have the ultimate obsession with Rollan and Gerda, it nearly kills me at some point :D Nah literally, that one last time I had to spend time watching AMV's I literally had heart issues just from seeing their romance scenes. Even writing this AN here is making me crazy. Okay, here we go.

Additional note: Both characters are 20+

Fic inspired by this image (Actually the colored version, but I can't find the link to it -_- ) and my obsessed brain.

In a restaurant in the inner part of King Harald's kingdom, several couples and some small families sat in there to have dinner served. Major parts of the guests had already received their main menu, including our main characters Gerda and Rollan. Gerda was dressed in her usual clothing which consisted of a light beige skirt, a blouse with emerald-green buttons, and a dark brown sleeveless vest. Rollan came dressed up differently than he usually would, by wearing a fully white shirt and black pants. Both love interests had as their main dish beef stroganoff, mostly it was recognized on Gerda's dish since Rollan seemed to have a higher appetite due to his plate being nearly finished fast.

„It's been almost five months since we've gone out for dinner together," Gerda mentioned. „I've been really enjoying the evening here with you,"

„I'm glad you're liking it so far," Rollan responded, then looked along with his girlfriend at the end of the restaurant, where a woman stood singing and a few other adults were playing on instruments, ensuring a good atmosphere. „I like how the atmosphere here is so calm and sweet. Mostly with their music,"

„That's so far the only restaurant I've seen so far with music accompanying us guests. That's probably another thing why this is a little expensive than the others we know," Commented Gerda. „I almost feel bad to be here," Admitted the blonde, then Rollan placed his hand on Gerda's hand and shook his head. „You don't have to. I made sure we could afford it,"

„Okay, that sounds relieving," Gerda confirmed using her fork to roll up a bit of pasta and take it into her mouth. „How was your week?"

„It was fine," Responded Rollan. „I had to accompany classes on Wednesday and Thursday over the half of the day as they were seeing the palace from the inside and outside. Two of those classes had some class clowns, which wanted to cause a mess and I had to stay on watch for them as well when the teacher wasn't aware of it. On Tuesday I've spent half of the morning taking care of the royal horses so that in the evening we could go out with them for a check-up and be able to continue our task with them the next days. There wasn't anything dangerous or bad, where I and others would have the need to interfere…..and I saw you yesterday on the morning during the ride out, remember?"

„Oh yes, if Freya didn't have mentioned it, I would have missed you," Gerda commented making Rollan chuckle.

„I would have at least greeted you or something. You know that,"

„I do and I enjoy your little visits," The girl admitted taking another bite of her plate slowly finishing her dish. „Talking about visits, my dad's birthday will be in a few weeks and I've been thinking along with Kai to make him a surprise party at Alfida's ship. Kai had some funny ideas for games all could play along to pass the time. Do you think you can come with us to the party?"

„At what time is it?" Questioned Rollan. „I've got a few days, I've been longer at work because of special occasions,"

„7 pm " Replied Gerda. „But if you're not able to come it's alright. My parents haven't seen you quite often and it would be good you three would be able to get to know each other better,"

„I think so far our relationship is fine I believe. Your parents don't treat me bad as Kai used to do once in a while after…...you know…...this with the wishing stone," Rollan whispered making Gerda nod.

„I know, but I'm referring to them knowing you in person more. They only know you through my eyes, not through their own I mean,"

„Okay, I will take a look at my plan and if there's a possibility to exchange a shift I'll do it, so we can go together to your parents,"

„Thank you, I know I could count on you," Gerda said making Rollan smile, then the waiter appeared to take their plates.

„Have you enjoyed your meal so far?" Questioned the waiter earning a nod from the couple.

„It was delicious," Gerda commented.

„The spice of the sauce was excellente. I enjoyed every bite of it,"

„May I offer you two a dessert. On Today's card, we've got Morozhenoe and we've got a variety of toppings for it, which you can choose. Nuts, chocolate, and berries," The waiter explained. „Does any of this please you?"

„The one with the berries sound appealing to me," Commented Gerda making Rollan nod.

„If possible I'd like the one with nuts," Rollan added earning a nod from the waiter and he picked up the used plates and cutlery to move away. Gerda and Rollan glanced together at the band singing, then Gerda sighed at how harmonic the singer was in sync with one cello player, which stood behind her playing the instrument.

„Their voices do really match well with the other," Commented the Spaniard, then moved his hands above the table to reach to Gerda and grabbed it to earn her attention. „Are you looking forward to pass by the stable and take a ride around the kingdom?" Rollan offered making Gerda shrug her shoulders.

„Are you sure you don't need Valiente tomorrow fully rested?" Questioned Gerda.

„Tomorrow I'll be at the castle the entire day again. I may pass in the afternoon again to feed him or to let him walk," Rollan mentioned. „I think Eriksson will be there as well, because of the cleaning duty he has tomorrow and could as well take care of him and the others. I don't know it yet,"

„Okay I'd love to go with you out if it's possible," Gerda responded making Rollan smile. „Where have you planned to walk us?"

„I haven't planned anything. I thought we could decide it during the ride or just let Valiente go on his own,"

„We'll see about that," Gerda replied, then Rollan lied Gerda's hand back down on the table and looked around the restaurant to observe the surroundings, then he pulled his collar a little nervous.

„Dónde está?" Rollan mumbled, then Gerda glimpsed at the man's comment.

„What are you asking?"

„I….uh was wondering where my…...medal of honor went, but it's actually here," Rollan made up making Gerda snicker.

„Why did you even stick your medal on your shirt for our date?" Questioned Gerda. „You don't need to do that, just because of me,"

„It's a habit of me," Rollan confessed. „I like to have them with me,"

„That's fine, I just had the impression you seemed nervous about something,"

„It will get solved, don't worry," Rollan stated earning a nod from the girlfriend. „Hopefully," He said quieter, then Gerda who still heard the rest of Rollan's phrase gazed back at her boyfriend to see him stare at the door, then Gerda moved her chair a little further and grabbed Rollan's hand, then gazed at his face a little worried.

„Rollan, are you hiding something, you don't want to tell me?" Questioned Gerda making Rollan shrug his shoulders.

„Uh just give me five more minutes," Rollan commented with an embarrassed grin, then heard the door getting opened up from the entrance, where a young boy showed up, making Rollan sigh in relief and Gerda smiled at seeing the young boy.

„Who is that boy?" Asked Gerda looking at Rollan, which shrugged his shoulders, then the boy approached their table and took from the inside of his jacket a small book and opened it up to take out a pen with a silver ring attached on the hold.

„Hello…..You're G….Gerda, right?" Questioned the boy making the woman nod.

„Yes," Responded Gerda exchanging looks with her boyfriend, which smiled at the woman warmly. „Who are you?"

„I'm Lars," Responded the boy. „I'm a big fan of you and your brother Kai…...Rollan promised me he would find a way to make me meet you," Explained the kid.

„Oh and that now?" Questioned Gerda looking at Rollan, which rolled his eyes at the kid and back at the blonde and Gerda kept her eyes on the boy, which showed her the book with the pen.

„I just want your autograph, that's all I need," Lars said looking at Rollan, which nodded, then Gerda looked at Rollan, which noticed Gerda's eyes and faked a smile at the girlfriend.

„Uh was it a bad idea to bring him here?" Asked Rollan making Gerda shake her head and grab the pencil to sign her name on it.

„It was fine. I was just surprised," Gerda commented, then placed the pencil back on the book. „There you go, little boy,"

„Thank you very much, Gerda," The boy thanked, then gave Gerda a hug making her and Rollan smile, then the boy dropped the book on the ground in front of Rollan's feet, then the boy took his arms off Gerda and grabbed the book.

„I'm glad I was able to help you out, Lars," Rollan said with a wink, then the boy waved at Rollan and ran away to the exit and Gerda spotted the pen of the boy on the ground, then shrieked along with Rollan.

„Hey Lars, you forgot your pen!" Gerda warned picking the pen up, then saw the boy had left the restaurant, afterward, Gerda sat back on the chair with the pen in her hand. „He may come back to get it,"

„Maybe," Rollan responded a little relieved, then moved his hand at the pen. „Or I will bring it back to him. I know, where he is from," Rollan commented watching Gerda show him the pen, then Rollan reached his hand at the pen and Gerda squinted her eyes and took the pen down to see the ring on the pen.

„Hey for what is this ring on here?" Gerda asked watching Rollan grab the pen.

„You know those are new variants," Rollan commented holding the pen under the table, then tried to remove the ring from it. „You know…..they have a unique way of use," Rollan commented. „Want to know how it works?" Questioned Rollan making Gerda nod.

„Why not?" Responded Gerda, then Rollan got up and stood in front of the blonde and with his left hand closed into a fist and he bends down on his right knee and positions his left leg behind, then placed his hands together and used his right hand to take out the ring from his other fist and held the ring up at the blonde woman.

„Gerda I…..I've been thinking this entire year for the moment I would ask you this question. I didn't know how I should do it or where I should do it and this option occurred to me a few days ago and I thought that's the moment Rollan. You're just chickening it out the entire time out of fear. Just do it, it will go fine. Lars there, he's actually Hansel's son from the theatre. I offered him a bit of money, so he would play as a fanboy and ask you for an autograph, but in reality, we made this up, so I would obtain the ring in a way you wouldn't notice…..or you weren't supposed to notice it," Rollan explained making Gerda smile enchanted at Rollan's explanation, then Rollan smiled a little and noticed Gerda chuckle a little.

„What's your question?"

„Gerda…..after we got together and we began to see each other, I felt like my life finally began to have a meaning for me. You made me feel like the happiest man in this kingdom. I'm certain that our love will hold on for eternity and that we complete each other. I…..you mean the world to me, Gerda. I may not be able to make a lot of money with the job I have to provide us a better life than we have now, but I'm able to do anything to make you happy…...Will you take me as your l...life partner?" Proposed the raven-haired man looking up at Gerda, which had gotten emotional at Rollan's question, and held her hands in front of her face to clean her face. Rollan smiled at Gerda's reaction, then he moved his free hand to Gerda's face to clean tears coming down from her eyes and waited for her to be ready to answer his question. Gerda passed her hand under her eyes again, then she leaped onto Rollan's arms to hug her boyfriend tight, leaning her head beside his neck making him beam and place his arms around her.

„Yes Rollan, yes I do," Gerda responded, then she got off Rollan's arms and held out her hand, so the man would take her hand and place the engagement ring on her ring finger, which consisted of a light-blue stone on the middle of the silver-colored ring. Rollan held Gerda's hand to look at her engagement ring, then rolled his eyes up at her seeing the woman biting her lip, still excited about what had happened, then he opened up his arms at the woman and she got into Rollan's arms again, therefore the duo earned the applause of the guests inside the restaurant which made Rollan feel embarrassed. Gerda felt as well abashed at the people's reaction towards their step and she gazed back at Rollan, which smiled charmed at the woman after that she wrapped her arms up around his neck, locking up her lips with his sealing together their agreement on taking a further step in their relationship.

The End.

#snow queen #snow queen mirrorlands #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #ecofinisherfanfics #ecofinisher #Снежная королева #снежная королева роллан #снежная королева Герда #герда и роллан