m: thost

Rick Riordan is such an underrated author

He is literally an author that give Tumblr diversity in popular books and yet it go mostly ignored. He has featured:

-Interracial couples

-Bisexual characters

-Gay characters

-Gay POC

-Pansexual characters

-Gender fluid characters

-Characters with disabilities (mental and physical)

-Asexual characters

-Children from abusive homes

-Characters with PTSD

-Characters with depression

-Representation of different cultures and religions

-Homeless teens

-Talks about racism 

-Talks about the horrible nature of parents kicking out their non-hetero-normative children

-Talks about abusive parents in general

-Talks about the importance of religion to someone’s beliefs

-Talks about how family is important

-Talks about how you are not your family

-Talks about how you can make your own family from the friends that support you

That is probably not every single one but thost are the ones I can think of off the top of my head. Rick Riordan makes these concepts important in his books and honestly makes the more complicated ones easy to understand. I know some may consider his books a bit more childish but it’s important to show young readers the different types of people in the world. It’s important to show them that heroes can come in every type of person. 

So stop sleeping on him

Four Lessons Laced in Whiskey - Drake x MC (A Royal Romance Fanfic)

#ChoicesCreates Round 18

“We are made of all those who have built and broken us.” – Atticus

Pairing: Drake x MC
Rating: T
Hosted by me this week! 

[A little note: This was a little frustrating at first because we don’t know much about Drake’s family. Much of this may seem like a tangent but he was one of the first people I had in mind when choosing the quote. In any case, enjoy!]

[Summary: Drake has learned several lessons over the course of his life. Each more pressing than the last, each more important. She was his fourth lesson, and the hardest he ever had to learn.]

The liquid substance scorched on its way down, burning as it often did. Usually the whiskey settled him, made him feel a quiet resilience towards the rest of the world. It helped to put aside his far-reaching introspective tendencies and yet, the liquid heat had done little to that effect tonight. They do not still his thoughts, instead they lead back to brooding reflections.

If he could go back, he would change things. 

He would rearrange all the little bits. The bits he didn’t like, and even some of the bits he did. Often times, when Drake was left alone with his thoughts, and nothing but the rising sunset to path his journey across the stars - he would reflect. Reflect upon his life in layers, inspected it in finer details under the microscope of his mind. Then he would come to the conclusion that his desire to forget burned as brightly as his desire to remember.

His thoughts begun with his parents first. The two people whom raised him, until he could raise himself. The American spitfire that captured his father’s heart, and their whirlwind romance which had swept into something more. More than what either of them expected, after his father’s constant overseas journeys to meet her. The Cordonian man had taken an American wife, and the scandal left by his insistence overshadowed the rest of them. His father, which had never been satisfied with just enough would come to leave a stain and had unknowingly passed the same burden to his children.

All the birthdays which passed before him were the younger years of being satisfied with just enough. The innocent boy before life had twisted and turned him ugly. The prince’s birthdays had stirred something inside him, inside all of them. It uncovered hidden notions of jealously and envy; and begun filling his thoughts by the time he turned ten. They pooled at his little feet and threatened to overflow until it sunk them.

Guilt and sadness had nearly done that; sunk all of them. It clung to every room, and with every hesitant smile or faltered step; it was going to swallow them whole. It followed when his parents realized they couldn’t give the world to him, nor to his sister. Not after comparing their own livelihood needlessly to all the rich Cordonian families.

He learned his first lesson then. Acceptance. He knew no matter what, his life would never measure up to more, not if he constantly had expectations. So he lowered them, and met birthdays with indifference. He pretended they no longer mattered, forced a smile on his face every year until he could finally start believing in the lies that left his lips. A rest to put his parents minds at ease, knowing they could never give their children what his best friend had so readily and always received.

His second thoughts drifted towards his sister. The liquor didn’t burn as much when he took another hasty gulp from his flask. He tried to picture what she was doing right now - wherever she was and whoever she was with. He had always hoped for better when it came to her. Except in their last moments together; she wasn’t the smiling and laughing girl he remembered. Instead, the versions he evoked blurred with harsh exchanges and his own resentment. His standoffish behavior when it came to her; her becoming like them. The rest of Cordonian nobility. Except his sister held no title which could withstand the stinging shame that followed. 

When Savannah left, she took a piece of him with her that not even Liam could heal. He tried of course, Liam was a perfectionist to a fault and Drake had played along. But he had never felt truly healed. The piece she took would never be restored and remained some of the little bits he wanted to change.

He wanted to remember the better parts of their relationship instead; the years of chasing Liam across the impending maze, tickling her even when she laughed and pleaded for him to stop, and making fun of Maxwell before they had reached those dastardly teenage years. Those years had marked the beginning and if he had been better at protecting her; he would have saw it coming. He could have changed them. Changed her. Maybe they wouldn’t have ended as estranged as they were now. Maybe if he had been paying closer attention she would have been right next to him, sharing this stupid flask of whiskey.

His sister had taught him his second lesson. Responsibility was important in becoming a good person, in living a good life. He wished he had noticed this sooner, had cared less of what the others thought while in his youth. He longed to shake his younger surly self, shake his shoulders until he realized what he was letting fade right in front of him.  He wished he had been more responsible back then before the fall out happened, and before everything had turned to shit.

He sighed and took another large gulp from his flask. He leaned back intent on observing the stars, the only time he still felt connected to his sister. He was seeking comfort that wasn’t really there and yet hoped desperately that they held some unseeable truth for him. Some unseeable future to dictate another path. But why did remembering hurt so much? More importantly, why wasn’t the whiskey driving such thoughts away?

Liam had kept the urges for a time. Liam, who had always accepted responsibilities while Drake had shrunk away from them. He had been his center, the only sane part of his life that never stopped making sense. Even when all the other children he grew up with turned their snooty nose at him, and saw him differently, Liam hadn’t. He was afraid and stricken with doubt that he would too. He didn’t know what his friend saw in him; what made him stick up for his well-being when all the other children had sneered at him and saw him as the outsider. But he did. He never hesitated to.

Drake had vowed not soon after to be at his side, whenever he needed him. He knew Liam’s princely duties weighed on him and the older they became, the more he saw it. The more he noticed tiny cracks in what was supposed to be the polished Liam. The infallible version. They never spoke of it in great detail but Drake was always aware of the crushing reality; it was even beginning to crumble with Liam’s coronation nearly in sight.

Liam had taught Drake his third lesson, trust. Trust was earned not simply given, and even though his family had changed his opinion of trust, it was Liam that had destroyed that darkening fester from ever taking root. He taught him trust mattered and loyalty went hand in hand with it. He wanted to be redeemable in Liam’s eyes, cared more than he let on to what he thought of him more than the rest of them.

She was teaching him his fourth lesson. The American woman, Tinsley. The countless hours he was beginning to spend thinking about her was dangerous. It threatened to unravel his third lesson, it threatened the moments of in between which were beginning to mean more to him than anything else ever had.

His hands tightened around the flask as he took another large gulp, nearly choking from the angry way he chugged it down.

She was beautiful, in every sense of the word. Down to the slight frown she wore whenever he said something sarcastically, or the humor that danced inside her hazels otherwise and the wayward dance of hips which he was beginning to notice all too much. Most of it filled his head, and the more he knew about her, the less distance he wanted to put between them. He wanted to know why every time she smiled at him and threw her head back to chuckle, a distinct sense of longing filled his chest. A longing he cannot explain with words because he believed simple words wouldn’t provide proper justice she deserved.

He closed his eyes at the thought and finally laid back inside the comfort of the musky grass. He shouldn’t be thinking of her this way; lesson three would unravel the more he lingered on her, the more he cared.

“Drake?” A familiar voice had spoken softly behind him.

He straightened his shoulders as he sat aside, and eyes connected with hers before he noticed her visibly blushing. “Tinsley.” He said in greeting.

Tonight, wasn’t good for running into her.  It was supposed to be a night filled with whiskey. And bitter resentment at remembering; for him and his measly whiskey. “What’re you doing here?”

She tucked stray hairs behind her ear, before sitting beside him. “Trying to find you obviously.” Then her expression softened when her eyes swung back to his. “You left dinner in such a hurry…I just wanted to make sure you were okay…” She trailed off weakly.

He looked away first. He hadn’t wanted to but it was the proper thing to do. The longer he looked, the more he feared his desires would win out. So instead, he looked away before sighing and handing her his flask. “I’m fine really, nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

The corner of her mouth lifted into a smile, “What kind of a weakness would I be if I didn’t check up on you?” She took the flask and muttered thanks before drinking.

He scowled. He knew her gentle teasing was to try and cheer him up, but he wanted to hold onto his snarkiness for a little longer. “You’re never going to let me forget I said that, aren’t you?”

“Not a chance.” She took another swig, “I know you aren’t okay and it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.” She eyed a particular spot across the gross before handing him back his flask. “Because maybe talking about it is really hard and maybe it hurts too much to.” She took a deep breath as if trying to figure out what to say next. “But I’m here.” She nodded firmly, “I’m here and I’m not planning on going anywhere, not even if you push me to.”

She was saying that because she knew it was his intention. He wanted to push her away, even though he longed to embrace her. He wanted to before it happened. Before they crossed the line that could never become uncrossed. But even as his mind wondered; it was already too late. That line had already been forgotten.

When he glanced up at her and caught her steady stare – he saw more affection in her eyes than he had ever seen in a long time. No, it wasn’t simple affection - it was something more. It was so much more. 

He realized in that moment, the lesson she had finally taught him had a name. Love. She was teaching him how to love again. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Seanfhocail: proverbs/ old Irish sayings.

A collection of my own personal favourites.

Aithníonn ciaróg ciaróg eile - It takes one to know one (A beetle recognises another beetle.)

An rud is measa le duine ar domhan n’fheadair sé nach é lár a leasa é. - The very thing a person dreads most in the world could be the best thing for him

Is fearr Gaeilge briste, ná Bearla clíste - Broken Irish is better than clever English

Tús maith leath na hoibre - A good start is half the work

Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin - There’s no place like home (There’s no fireplace like your own fireplace.)

Ní hé lá na báistí lá na bpáistí - The day of rain is not a day for children.

Beatha teanga í a labhairt. - The life of a language is to speak it.

Tarraingíonn scéal scéal eile - One story leads to another

Is binn béal ina thost - Silence is golden

Go n-éirí an bóthar leat - may the journey be successful for you 

A new home. (+open)

Chosen studied the large doors of what was to be his new home and new future. After a bit he smiled widely and walked in, boots lightly thudding against the floor of the entrance hall. He’d forgone his armor for softer court clothing, his hair pulled back into a neat pony tail that caught the low light of the area. It was big but given who the patriarch of the family was and the fact that it was growing even now it made sense but despite being large there was a sense of welcome.


A feeling that was amplified knowing his true brother was somewhere inside the building along with King himself. Not to mention the numerous others that he’d yet to meet but hoped to get to know. 

“Hello?” He called. “Anyone here?” Besides him…