you know she's the queen of england

anonymous asked:

Can you tell us more about your "Austrian" grandpa? When did your family figure out that he was a Russian Jew? Was he fleeing the tsarist draft?

I’m not sure if he was fleeing the Tsarists specifically, or Russia in general.  

GG had suspected he wasn’t actually Austrian, mostly from the heavy Russian accent and the fact that he barely knew anything about Austria.  He had some kind of crisis of faith prior to meeting her and was always uncomfortable discussing matters of faith.  Which kind of worked out fine for GG, because being a third generation agnostic was hard in the nineteen teens.

But, when a guy never eats pork “out of habit” you get an idea.

As he got on in years, he started developing dementia. He gradually lost his ability to speak English,   So he started speaking German, then he started to lose that and spoke only Russian at the very end.  Mom still knows a smattering of both languages form communicating 

He also lost the ability distinguish what happened on TV from what happened IRL and started doing things like thinking he had lunch with the Queen of England because she was on TV while he was eating.

This sounds really tragic but Grandpa Adam quickly realized that he was losing it, and decided that it meant he didn’t have to deal with anyone else’s nonsense anymore.  Also, since he was retired and could stay at home, there wasn’t much issue in indulging him.

So mom would come home from school and ask grandpa what he did that day, and would listen to how he had a political discussion with Mr. Gorbachev.  Grandpa Adam had trouble with reality but DAMN if he didn’t have some great diplomatic ideas about how to end the cold war.

Thursday | ten

Genre: best friend!au | fluff, lil bit of quite stressful angst but happy ending

Member: Ten / reader

Word Count: 3500ish

Summary: “it was still a mistake”

“no the mistake was falling for you!”

Originally posted by yoon-to-the-oh

It’s a Thursday when they meet.

Their year 7 teacher assigns them partnered projects about the solar system and she pulls names out of a hat. They get paired together. He’s is nice, really nice and she realises he has the most beautiful smile she’s ever seen- she’s not star struck or anything, she just hasn’t seen one like it before.

He introduces himself, she hasn’t seen him around much before so she’s assuming he’s pretty new and his name is a number. “Why is your name Ten?” she asks as they’re glueing planets to pieces of strings.

He shrugs, “It’s just a nickname.”

She frowns, “Well then what’s your real name.”

He sighs, smiling knowingly because there’s no way she’ll be able to pronounce it. “ Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul.” he says, almost proudly.

She pauses, staring at him, “Yeah I like Ten.” she dismisses because even she knows any attempt at the pronunciation would be embarrassing.

He grins, “You’re funny.”

“Do you want to be friends?” She asks quietly, almost shyly and he likes her already.

He smiles again, “I have a feeling we will be for a very long time.”

She frowns, “What are you a psychic or something?” She scoffs and rolls her eyes, pretending that a few second ago she wasn’t worried about what he’d say.

“Yeah I read people’s minds.” He assures.

She narrows her eyes and glances around the room. And then she points to a classmate, “What’s he thinking?”

“That he’s got a really itchy butt.”

And the teacher separates them because they distract each other too much.



“We’re out of Chinese.”

Ten closes the door behind him, frowning as he makes his way past the kitchen to look into the open living room. She’s sitting on the floor with a plate of food in her hands and her laptop on her lap. She’s surrounded by sheets and open text books and colouring pens strewn around in an unseemingly order. “That Chinese has been there for weeks.” He scoffs, dropping his bag onto the dining room table.

She shrugs, “It’s the only thing that was in there and I’m starving.” He breathes a laugh, walking over to sit behind her on the couch. He flops down and sighs loudly, rubbing his eyes tiredly. She pauses stuffing her face. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.

There’s a silence where he contemplates telling her, knowing that he will eventually because he tells her everything so he just sighs. “I got fired.”

She glares at him, “Again?” she cries, putting her plate aside to turn around and face him. Her chin barely reaches the sofa but she still manages to scare him a little. “What the hell did you do this time?” she demands.

“Nothing!” he cries cordially but when he sees the look on her face he sighs again, “Okay so I may have burnt someone’s arm.”

She frowns, “How did you do that?”

He rolls his eyes and waves her off like it’s no big deal, “They got in the way of the fire-”

“Fire?”

“It was only a small fire and I told him to move, it’s not my fault they put the toaster right under the cupboards.” he defends.

She shakes her head, “You’re insane.”

He sits up, looking down at her plate of food, “Yeah, well at least I’m not going to get food poisoning.”

She waves him off, “I’m not going to get food poisoning.”

“Look at it, there’s mould on the chicken!” he cries, reaching over to point and she bats his hand away.

“Get your own food!” she snaps. He rolls his eyes threading his fingers through her hair and sighs Her eyes flutter closed and she leans her head against the sofa. It’s quiet, the only sound is their breathing and he doesn’t think he wants to move from this very spot when they’re both so comfortable in the silence of their own thoughts. “I’m tired.” she murmurs.

He looks down at her with eyes soft around the edges of the cold look she’s grown so used to and he nods, “Me too.”

His fingers thread through the knots and his thumb brushes her cheek and a part of her feels that this isn’t what friends do, but when he makes her feel like this she doesn’t care. “Can we watch House?” She asks quietly.

He breathes a laugh, “As long as you promise not to spoil it for me.”

This time she laughs, “Well I’m sorry I used to watch ER. At least your life is safe in my hands, imagine, you could have a heart attack right now and I would know what to do.” she assures.

He rolls his eyes, “If I have a heart attack its because of all the stress you cause me.”



It’s a Thursday when Ten realises he might like her as more than a friend.

They’re in the supermarket, travelling between aisles in search of cheap food that they can easily make because neither of them is particularly good at cooking. He’s pushing the trolley and she’s sitting inside it, a lollipop in her mouth as she grabs at rice packets and biscuits and throws them into her lap. “We don’t need those.” He points out as she slides a stack of waffles somewhere next to her knee.

She wags a finger at him but doesn’t turn, “We always need waffles.” She assures.

He shakes his head, “There is literally no situation in which we would ever need waffles.”

She grabs a cowboy hat that someone disregarded in the cereal aisle and pops the lollipop out of her mouth, “well, what if the queen comes around?”

“The queen?” He scoffs, throwing in a pack of cereal that he knows she likes.

“Yeah!” She cries, “And what if she stays for breakfast and we’ve only made pancakes but she doesn’t like pancakes and we don’t have any waffles!” she holds them up to show him, “We can’t let down the queen!”

“Of which country?” He asks in response

She pauses. “England?” She suggests, “Or maybe a Russian Tzar, oh! Do you think Rasputin might come round?” She exclaims, turning to face him with this child-like grin that turns his leg to jelly.

He shakes his head with a small smile, “Rasputin’s dead.” he points out and she waves him off.

“That’s what they want you to think.” She assures, “And if he ever visits I can assure you that he is a waffle person.”

“Okay, now what your reasoning for this?” He asks, reaching forward to pull the cowboy hat from her head.

She snatches it back, “I look good in it, is that not reason enough?”

“Were not going to buy it.” he points out, “Despite the fact that it’s just you and me, we eat a lot.

She mock gasps, “But what if woody comes round for dinner?”

He rolls his eyes, turning the trolley towards the costume aisle, “Don’t you think he’d be offended by you impersonating a cowboy?”

She pauses.

“You’re right!” She cries, ripping the hat off her head. She wriggles around in the cart and clambers to her knees, facing him as she places it against his hair and begins to tie string to hold in place under his chin. “You’d look more realistic as a cowboy.” she smirks and he’s staring longer that he should.

“Can I get a tiara?” He asks, still pushing the trolley and she grins.

“Of course you can princess, any particular colour?” She questions, her eyes crinkling with her smile.

He hesitates, a finger tapping his chin as he pretends to think, “Pink or purple, whatever they’ve got.”

She nods, “Yes-sir-ie” she jokes in the most southern accent she can muster and leans out of the trolley, picking up various princess costumes, “Would you like to slip into an apple induced coma or lose a shoe on a wild night out?” She asks, holding them up to face him.

He smirks, “Depends, do I meet the love of my life?” He asks, looking her straight into the eyes before realising the fact that his heart rate is way up.

She smiles, adjusting the cowboy hat on his head, “Why, do tell me your deepest, darkest wish and the genie will make it a reality.” She says, again in a southern accent, “Is it princess Jasmine? Was it her beautiful dark eyes?”

He cocks his head leaning closer, “No.” he shakes his head, still staring, too long. She notices. “They look like yours.”

“Shut up.” She jokes and when he doesn’t say anything the smile slowly slides off her face. She hesitates, “You’re serious?” She deadpans.

He shrugs, “Same colour hair, same freckles on her cheek, same smile.” he blurts before he can even realise that this is probably a mistake.

And she stays kneeled in the trolley, their faces close enough to see the truth in each others eyes and that cowboy hat still on his face. She blinks, trying to ignore her heartbeat, “Are you banging my sister?” she raises an eyebrow.

And they laugh, but they never talk about it again.



She glares at him from her seat at the dining room table, “I told you, I can’t.”

He throws himself dramatically onto the table, whining and pretending to sob, “But please!” he begs, praying in her direction and pouting.

She shakes her head, ignoring him, “No. You asked me a week ago and my answer was no, you asked me yesterday and my answer was no and then you asked me today and guess what? My answer is still no.”

“But you promised!” he exclaims.

She stares at him almost astounded, “I did no such thing.” she assures cordially.

He wags his finger, “At 4:30 am on the Friday of last week you said that you would come with me.”

“4:30 am? On Friday? You mean when I had been awake for 52 hours?” she cries.

He holds his hands up, “You still promised.”

“I was sleep deprived!” she yells.

“It counts!” he assures.

“It does not!” she replies, “Now get off the table, you’re sitting on my work.” she demands.

He shakes his head, “Nope.” and proceeds to lie down on top of the mounds of paper and open textbooks. “You’re coming. Get your shoes it’s Latin night.”

“I don’t even dance!” she cries, running short of arguments he’ll just ignore anyway.

He shrugs, “You do with me.” he points out.

She glares at him, crossing her arms and trying her best not to blush. He looks so hopeful and pleading and the white shirt he’s wearing clings to his body like it’s always belonged there. She wrinkles her nose, shaking her head, “You’re so annoying.” she huffs angrily.

But he grins, this wide million watt smile that blinds her and makes her forget that she’s angry  because oh god he looks so beautiful. “Yes!” he cries, sitting up. She grabs a textbook and whacks him with it, “Ow! What was that for?”

“For constantly roping me into this shit!” she replies and he laughs, a laugh that makes her heart stutter and die in her chest.

She hits him again.



It’s a Thursday when they first kiss.

Its 3am and they’re still dancing in the club at Latin night. Her feet are sore and her legs ache but she’s got this huge grin on her face and her veins are intoxicated with a flood of alcohol. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at her, who knows. There are waves of bodies crushed together and music that pounds her ears until the floor shakes and the lights become a haze of colours that ripple through her mind.

He twirls her around and laughs when she does because her laugh is infectious and he can’t stop staring. “Shots?” She asks and he nods.

They weave between the plethora of bodies that nearly crush them and she reaches out to hold onto his hand so they don’t lose each other. She nearly slams into the bar and they both laugh because they’re pretty drunk, and they’ve been here so long the bartender knows what to give them.

“Three, two, one!” They shout over the music and then they lick the salt from their hands, down the shot and then stick a lemon in each others mouths. They laughing and smiling and they’re touchier than usual because they’re drunk and fuck it, boundaries disappear when they’re drunk.

His arms is around her waist and his fingers grip at the bare skin  her hip to hold her in place. She smiles and pushes the hair back from his sweaty forehead, “You’re hot.” She points out, breathing heavily because she is too.

He smirks, “Thanks, I know.”

She laughs and shoves his chest, “You’re an idiot.”

But she pushes too hard and looses her own balance but he catches her  wrapping both arms around her. Her hands land on his shoulders so she can stop herself from falling down and that, right then, is when they kiss.

Because why not?

They’re both consenting adults, neither of them will remember and when he kisses her like that she doesn’t care. His fingers are tangled in her hair and her skin is on fire, their veins feel like they’re being pricked over and over again by tiny needles.

This probably shouldn’t be happening, they’re friends- best friends. Best friends don’t kiss each other like the world is at their feet. But their kissing too deeply, too much like they care that they lose their balance and nearly fall down again. And so they back to dancing, but things change from then on.



“You haven’t spoken to him? You live together!” Johnny cries and she rolls her eyes.

“That’s another problem. I need to find an apartment.” she adds, staring down at her coffee and swirling it with the small spoon provided.

“Are you serious?” He mutters, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and middle finger. “You can’t just move out.”

She shrugs, “Why not? He has six hours of lectures on Thursday, I can pack up some stuff, stay at yours.”

He scoffs a laugh, “You are not staying at mine.”

She frowns, leaning forward, “Why not?”

Because-” he hisses and then pauses, taking a deep breath. “Because you can’t just not talk to your best friend for a week and then move out without any explanation.”

“Fine, I’ll leave a note.” she surrenders, waving her arms.

“Are you serious? Jesus you’re just as bad as each other.” He huffs angrily, leaning back in his chair because he’s sick of both of them.

She pauses and stops swirling her coffee, “What do you mean? He’s spoken to you?” she demands, her eyes wide.

He waves her off, “I’m not playing messenger between the two-”

“Does he hate me?” She asks quietly, looking back down at her coffee.

Johnny purses his lips and sighs, “Of course he doesn’t hate you, you’re his best friend.” he says softly, because he can tell she’s worried.

She swallows, looking out of the window, “I need to move out.” She determine.

Johnny throws his arm up, “Jesus Christ do something.” he begs.



Is a Thursday when they finally realise they’ve been in love with each other for years.

She goes back home when he’s at his six hours of lectures, but she’s still quiet anyway because she doesn’t really feel like she going home, she feels like she’s stepping into forbidden territory. She tip toes in, closing the door quietly behind her, “What are you doing?” A voice says.

She jumps, holding her hand to her heart and squeezing her eyes shut. But slowly she opens them, landing on Ten. He’s sitting on one end of the sofa with a book in his hand and a frown on his face. He looks tired, bags under his eyes and they’ve lost their usual glint. “I’m just uh…” she trails off, pointing to her room

She doesn’t finish that sentence, “Where have you been?” he asks with no particular tone of voice.

She swallows, dropping her keys into the bowl on the kitchen counter. “Busy.” She states, “I’ve had this project due so I’ve been living in the library for the past week and-”

“Stop lying to me.” He interrupts sadly, closing the book. He looks disappointed, like he expected better from her. “I think…” he trails off, scratching his head, “I think we need to talk.”

“About what? The state of our economy?” She smirks, laughing to hide the fear behind her words, “You know, China has had some fascinating developments in-”

“Us.”

“Well no actually, they’ve been working on a new train that is elevated above the city of-”

Hey!” He interrupts again, standing up this time. “You being in perpetual denial does not help anyone.” he scoffs, approaching her.

She rolls her eyes, “I’m not in denial, denial of what?”

“Do you remember that night?” He asks like he’s making sure she’s genuinely just ignoring him for another reason. He sounds so scared and tired that she opens her mouth but finds nothing to say.

She swallows, looking down at her feet, “It was a mistake.”

He shakes his head and scoffs bitterly, “No. It was a long time coming.”

She frowns, “What are you talking about?” She demands angrily-, but deep down she knows so maybe she really is in denial.

He cocks his head, “Wow, you really are oblivious.” he shakes his head and sighs, “there have been multiple occasions on which we’ve basically admitted how we felt and still neither of us did anything.”

She sneers, “We were drunk, people do dumb shit when they’re drunk.”

He shakes his head, “Sometimes we were sober.”

“It was still a mistake!” She cries, suddenly angry because he’s making her feel bad now.

“No, the mistake was falling for you.” he snaps back immediately.

Her neck snaps up, “What?” She breathes.

He cocks his head with a small smile, “Come on babe. You know what i’m talking about.” he assures, his fingers hooking apprehensively through hers.

She frowns, curling her fingers with his until she feels like he won’t let go. She steps closer to him and he sucks in a slow and steady breath, his eyes widening at the look she’s giving him. There’s this soft smile on her face and her eyes are shaded with hope and wonder and she swallows, “How long?” she asks quietly.

He laughs, “Do you remember when we went to prom and you wore that purple dress and the necklace I got you and the most jaw dropping smile i’ve ever seen another human wear.” he pauses, reaching up slowly and placing a hand on her cheek, “I realised that… there’s no-one else like you.” He smiles, “The day I met you was the day everything became a hundred times clearer, like I finally understood the reason i was put on this earth.”

She smiles as his arms come to wrap around her waist, and she feels like her skin is on fire wherever he touches her. “What happens now?”

And he kisses her again.

Its like poison in her veins, like she’s sliding down a cloud and his smile is the rainbow. “Now-” he breathes against her lips, “Now I think we need to establish something.” he states in all seriousness.

“Oh, okay, what?” She asks carefully.

“Rasputin is dead, and the Queen is not a waffle person” he blurts. “I bet you the queen only eats kale for breakfast or something.”

She looks aghast, “Now hold on a second-”

Be Patient | Sam Holland

Summary: After dating his girlfriend for two years, Sam Holland decides to take their relationship to the final level and make it permanent. However, in order to provide for his future spouse, he must first get enough money to provide for her and he must get the ‘okay’ from the reader’s disapproving father…

Warning: fluff

Pairing: Sam Holland x reader

Type: Oneshot

Requested: anonymously

MASTERLIST

The winter wind howled through the desolate streets, blinding the path with a thin sheet of icy white dust. These short days, these long nights, the dampness that crept into weary bones and made everyone ache for summer again. The thinly frozen puddles crack under Y/N’s winter boots as she approached her boyfriend’s house. The bitter cold seeps through her wool mittens, numbing her fingers until they feel thick and stiff. It made it difficult for her to raise her arm and knock on the wooden door before her.

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anonymous asked:

How do you think Tracer and Widowmaker would be like being parents?

Whoops, this turned into a semi-related drabble. 


Lena had been waiting for the right moment to bring it up with Widowmaker. Unfortunately, right moments to bring up tricky subjects were few and far between with her, and after weeks and weeks and, like, loads of attempts at trying to cheer her up (which, Lena had to admit, never worked), she gave up waiting.

There wouldn’t be a right moment. Lena would have to attempt to transform a wrong moment.

Said Wrong Moment started with Widowmaker arriving home at 5am, covered in mysterious blood splatters. That was a good sign! Bursting, Lena accosted her girlfriend at the door. “Before I ask you something, did you kill someone?”

Widowmaker gave her a tired look, ignoring what she’d said. “Why are you awake?”

That was a good question. Lena was famously unconscious by 11 most nights. “I was waiting for you to get home!” she explained. “But did you kill someone? I have to know. It’s important.”

Widowmaker gave her a long, flat stare. “I would have thought it was evident that this blood isn’t mine.”

Okay, well, that was as much of an answer as Lena was likely to get out of her. “Right, so that means you’re in a good mood, then, aren’t you? I have something I need to talk to you about.”

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I have nothing better to do so have some self indulgent and incredibly stupid Voltron headcanons


  • Lance would probably be the type of guy who just knocks at Hunk´s or Keith´s door unannounced if he knows they are free and stay for a while or stay the night and make pancakes with them in the morning.
    •  Hunk´s used to it but the first time Lance does it with Keith he      just stands there like??? what u doing here??? And Lance makes his way in and starts playing old Disney movies in the tv with a bowl of popcorn and kitkats
    •  When Keith washes the dishes in the morning he´s using his gloves and doesn´t notice until Lance starts laughing and is like??? Keith what the hell dude.
    •  When Keith washes the dishes in the morning he´s using his gloves and doesn´t notice until Lance starts laughing and is like??? Keith what the hell dude 
      •   Keith´s like, “they´re water proof” and shrugs it off  
    • Once in Halloween they were all eating and Keith told a joke and Pidge choked in her drink and was there laughing unable to breathe and Lance was like “huNK FILM THIS” and he just made his way on the table and pretended he was using the force with his Darth Vader helmet on
      •  Shiro was in the background llike “LANCE STOP” 
      • Keith was like “What have I done…” 
  •   Pidge; Fuck
    • Shiro: Language
    • Pidge: English! 
    • Shiro: PIDGE
    • Pidge: yoINKS 
  • Shiro comes one day with flying like bikes and tells everyone they’re gonna do earth like driving training.
    •  Keith is silent for a second and with a sigh he says “You just wanted to see how fast they went didn’t you?” 
    • Shiro: For science man
  • Foreign alien (to Keith): How could you describe the blue paladin?
    •  Lance: OhOhOooooh! You could start saying that i’m pretty      handsome, i’m like, the best looking man ever, second to Shiro obviously, i’m a super cool person- 
    •  Pidge: And you’re freaking annoying for sure, that´s what you are
    •  Lance: PIDGE WHAT THE FUCK YOU LITTLE MINION I’M SICK OF THIS, ENOUGH WITH THIS BULLSHIT I FREAKING HATE YOU!!
    •  Lance: And also i’m pretty chillll  
  • Lance: Pidge why the heck you never told me your brother was ~this~ hOT!?
    •  Pidge: He’s not hot, he pretended he was spiderman for three years and cried the first time he saw Shiro 
    •  Matt: he was intIMIDATING, PIDGE! 
    • Pidge: (To Lance) He told me Shiro was too pretty and he should call the police because it was ilegal
  • Keith: (With scissors on his hand and his mullet cut off) LANCE GET BACK HERE WE’RE NOT DONE YET!!
    • Lance *In the background: I´M SORRY I´M SORRY HELP ME SHIRO!!
  • Pidge *Talking with a pretty alien & visibly blushing*: Yeah it´s kinda cool I mean, saving the universe, except the part when we´re all not dying, and possibly when we´re not being persecuted by the bad guys. 
    • Alien girl: Yeah but what about you?
    • Pidge.exe.has.stopped.worked 
    • Pidge (While sweating uncontrolable): I´m pretty gay
    • Matt: (In the distance) My listtle sister…
  • Lance:C´mon if Hunk´s not the prettiest man ever on earth then i´m the queen of England! 
    •  Allura: Is that where those “British” come from?  
  • Pidge: Best dick award goes to Zarkon
    • Matt: Pidge what the fuck
    • Lance: I mean… She´s not wrong…
    • Everyone: Lance what the fuck????
  • Pidge: I love being gay
    • Keith: I know right?
  • Keith: Pidge… You left your panties again in the stairs…
    • Pidge: Shut up, you know i hate that word
    • Lance: Oh what a shame! STAIRS STAIRS STAIRS!
    • Keith: She was talking about panties babe…
waking up sober

one: the beginning 

Savannah Harper, 22.

Self assured psych student.

She’s nonchalant, sarcastic, and her biggest achievement to date is being able to down five jagerbombs in less than 30 seconds.

-

Harry Styles, 23.

Overachieving law student.

He’s never faced a problem that couldn’t be fixed with a little help from his Russian friend - vodka.

a story of late nights, unorthodox household plants, and a trip to Vegas that changes everything

UNI AU co-written with @faux-styles

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Narnia headcanon- a short ending. I suppose

This is focused more on Edmund and Susan’s relationship

In TLB, when Peter said Susan was no longer a friend of Narnia, Edmund’s heart truly broke. He couldn’t bare the thought of his beloved sister not believing in Narnia. A hot steamy tear rolled down his cheeks, that was the first time he ever shed a tear in front of Peter and Lucy.

Peter wanted to make her believe in Narnia again but failed because he was too determined, and their conversation would usually end with him getting shouted by Susan. Lucy was the one who was worried about Susan the most. She kept on reminding her about Narnia, all day and all night, without letting her to have time to rest and think. You know how things ended.

Edmund, however, used a totally different way. He would tell Susan stories of their times in Narnia whenever she was sad or depressed. He always managed to make her smile even when she was so angry at him.They would hug each other whenever things get rough back in England, and he would visit her every week. He would call her “Queen Susan, the Gentle” whenever she was sad or angry. The words somehow calmed her down. Ed was the only one who Susan could deal with.

When Ed didn’t visit Susan that week, she knew something was up. She remembered seven stars shining extremely bright that night they passed away. Ed failed to visit her the next morning which made Susan anxious. She calmed herself down by calling herself “Queen Susan” with the tone Ed used to call her by. She marched down towards Ed and Lucy’s house, they lived together. She froze at the sight of police surrounding their house. She approached them without thinking and when the police asked if she was Susan Pevensie, her heart broke for the first time. She knew something had happened.

The police tried to explain to her what had happened but Susan just couldn’t bare it. She sat on the ground, crying for them to come back. The pain in her heart caused her to cry even more, to shed even more tears. She remembered the last time she saw Peter, he was holding her hand, begging her to stay for another two minutes, begging her to not leave her family. But she left, she left without saying good bye. She remembered the last time she saw Lucy, she was crying, she couldn’t bare seeing her two eldest sibling fighting. She remembered the last time she saw Ed. He raced to catch up with her after she had left the family reunion. He asked her what was wrong, and she went totally barbaric on him. She told him that she can’t handle anymore, she just wants to live in the real world but you guys kept on trying to make her believe in a made up world that doesn’t exist. She just wants to leave. She begged him to leave her.

Edmund couldn’t do anything except watching his sister leave. But he yelled, “I’ll see you on Sunday Queen Susan?” Susan stopped in her tracks, she turned and gave him a weak smile, “Yeah.” Edmund remembered hearing a crack, he thought he had stepped on a brach. He only realized now that it was his heart. He never kept his promise.

Susan kept on crying, her face was red, her nose was blocked, and her eyes were watering. Suddenly she stopped, she couldn’t explain what had happened but she suddenly remembered a name. It was something starting with A… Aslaine? Aslam? Then something clicked, Aslan. Her legs started moving, and before she had realized where she was heading, she was already standing in front of a church, and next to her was a cat. The cat had dirty blonde fur and pointy ears. The cat meowed, and she stepped into the church.

Susan never thought she would see her siblings again, until she woke up years and years later in a field full of flowers and trees. She could see three figures standing in front of her. She finally made it back to Narnia, she was in Aslan’s country.

*im sorry if this is really bad worded. english isn’t my first language so my grammar isn’t as good as native English speakers but I tried my best :)

to be honest, I actually cried whilst writing this… XD

We Got Married Ep. 2 (Zico x Reader)

So you guys decided that you wanted me to do turn this into a series and here it is. I don’t know how many parts it will be, as long as y’all want to read it I will write it, it’s the least thing I can do for 1.000 followers. Also my girl at @k-wonderpaluza is Trinity so Enjoy!

Originally posted by awwfuckno

“When I opened the door and saw her looking straight at me… I was super surprised. I never expected her to be my “wife”, but thank you”

“Do you like her?”

“I found her very talented before I met her and as we talked I realised that we have a lot of things in common.”

Zico confessed at the camera. He was very happy that you would be his wife, he kind of had a crush on you. So when he saw you standing there his heart stopped, thinking that it was a joke.

“Are you feeling better for your wedding?”

“Yes. In all honesty I want to see what dress she chooses, that’s going to be fun”

—————————

“Let’s do this”

You said as you walked in the wedding dress shop with your best friend Trinity, the most amazing collegue Kittib and your favorite guy in the world San e. You were welcomed by a young woman that offered you  glass of champagne with a nice smile.

“So what do you want your dress to be like?”

“I’m not sure. I will either choose something super simple or something very loud and over the top”

“So we can try two different styles and you will choose which one you want”

“Sounds like a plan”

You and the girl walked in the back of the huge curtain and she helped you wear the first dress, while your two friends waited on the other side.

“Is it too late to back down?”

“Why do you want to back down?”

San E asked you. You were sure the cameras were all up on them, but they were both in the bussiness so it didn’t matter so much, they were used to it.

“One guy forever.”

They laughed at your silly attempted to play along the marriage. You felt the zipper being zipped all the way up and she strated fixing the bottom. She walked out and went infront of the curtain.

“Alright. 1,2,3 open”

She pulled the curtain and the camera started filming from the bottom of your shoes to the top of your head very slowly.

“You look adorable”

Kittib exclaimed as they all started to take pictures of you.

“Really?” You gave her a questionable look, it wasn’t really what you wanted.

“It’s too simple”

“Shut up and smile for the camera right here”

Trinity ordered you, pointing at the camera of her phone. You did as she told you and gave her a bright smile.You posed and goofed around for them but then you turned to San E.

“What do you think?”

“It’s good, but we need to go harder, our baby needs to shine"

“Then we go for the next dress, take your seats again”

They did as they were told and sat back down as she pulled the curtain again. 

“What do you think of (y/n) as a wife?”

“She is always very protective of others, so I feel like she will be very protective of her husband. She takes all her anger on stage so when she is off of it she tries to be very calm”

Trinity replied at the staffs question with a small smirk playing on her lips. As you finally slipped in the second dress, the lady helped you fix the little details and then walked out

“Second choise. 1,2,3 here we go”

“Oh my GOD, LOOK AT YOU”

“you look so pretty”

“look at the details”

They got up again and started to take a ton of pictures. You thought this was a better choice, but it was still not enough

“It’s too cute and small. My boobs feel like they are about to explode”

You exclaimed. San E laughed at your comment, but he still kept taking picutres of you

“You look like a fairy, what are you talking about?”,

“It’s okay we have a few other choices. Take your seats”

“She is so stubborn”

“I heard that”

You told Kittib.

“You know her, all that ‘I may choose something simple’ was bullshit, she is going to show up looking like the queen of England”

Trinity fired back. You always were a bit over the top with your style, you liked to dress up even if it was for the most simple think. No one will forget that you did a rap battle in high heel black boots,  your make up was done to perfection and a pair of ripped jeans with a white crop top… you still won though.

“This is the third choice. Are you ready? 1,2,3 “

“WOW, (Y/N)”

They all said together. You smiled genuinely at them, it was a great dress, a mermaid cut was always beautiful yet ellegant choice. 

“Oppa, let’s take pictures together”

He came by your side and snaked his hand around yours holding you close. San e was the only person you called “oppa”, he was with you since you first started, he believed in you, hell he even let you feature in one of his songs when you first got signed in JYP, even though you were not in his label.

“You look so pretty, look at that body”

“I think she needs to try the last dress”

The blonde lady said with a mischevious smile. She had another trick up her sleeve.

“Let’s see if the last one can top it off”

The lady helped you slip on the dress

“Guys this is IT”

You yelled at them before she opened the curtains. She got out and counted before the curtains revealed the amazing dress

“OH MY GOD, IT’S SO PRETTY”

“(y/n) you look like a biracial princess”

“I told you this was the one”

You said to her as Kittib hugged you. This was the perfect dress to get married on Television

————————–

“As I waited for her on the aisle, I got nervous. It was so strange but I really did want to see how she looked.”

He explained at the cameras, as they cut back to the wedding. It was a beautiful church, Zico had chosen his band members as groomsmen. He looked amazing in his beautiful suit

The classic music started playing and everyone sat down and turned their heads to the door to look at you. He waited patiently but a huge grin broke when he saw you. You chose San E to walk you down the aisle, since your parents lived in the US.

“I could feel my heart pounding, everyone as looking at us. I could hear people saying ‘oh she’s so pretty’ and stuff like that. It made me feel so anxious,suddenly the dress felt too tight, it felt so real at the time, but at the time I was thinking ‘I am marrying a stranger, this is so awkard’ “

You tried so hard to hold in your laugh, like he also tried. You stood next to him as you turned to the old man. The old man joked a lot of times about this situation.

“(full name) do you promise to love and honor this man, until the show is over and you can go back to living alone?”

“I do”

“Woo Jiho, do you promise to love and honor this woman, until the show is over and you can go back to chasing girls?”

“I do”

“With the power that the channel gave me, I pronounce you husband and wife”

Imagine being the eldest Phantomhive child

Originally posted by zappsass

You sat at your desk, the empty cup sat on your desk as you proofread your brother’s drafts for the company as a knock echoed from the door.


“May I come in?” The familiar voice called from behind the closed door.


“Of course you may, it is a study not a changing room.” Your eyes never left the page as you heard the door squeak open and shut.


“I have made your favorite today my dear…”

“Green tea with a splash of fresh honey and a lemon wedge.” You finished his sentence and missed him grin to himself.


“I also took the liberty of snatching you a fresh cookie as well today, my dear.“You finally looked up to see him holding the small round treat, a smile pulled at your lips as your fingers lightly brushed his hand.


"Sebastian how many times must I tell you, call me [Y/N].”


“Well my dear, clearly you must ask once more, along with the young master.”


“Oh please I am far older then him, it is bad enough that I must love you in secret because…”


“The young master may find our romantic relationship as a hindrance to the job at hand, besides a lady such as yourself…”


“A lady such as yourself can do far better then a demon butler.” You huffed annoyed as you collected the papers, 

“I am going to give these back now, just leave the tea here.” 


“Of course.” He said as you walked towards the door, as it shut he whispered softly to himself, “[Y/N].” 

Originally posted by tewomochi

 “Sebastian!” Ciel called from the parlor where he sat, his eyes transfixed on a chess piece as he played against you.


“Yes young master?” He hurried to his side as you moved your piece.


“When this game is done I require a bath.”


“Really my lord, don’t you think…”


“Don’t be silly Sebas-chan, it is never too late for a bath.” You mock Grell as you smiled, “I am tired anyway so I believe I will retreat for the night. Good night sweet brother.” 

You gently placed a kiss on his head before walking towards your room, your hand quickly grabbing Sebastian’s as he watched you go. 

"I will draw the bath my lord.” He said, turning back his attention back to Ciel, who was watching him as he gandered after you. Ciel just took a breathe as he watched Sebastian leave, knowing that he could not live under this situation any longer. 

“I will return with your files soon my lord." 

"Sebastian… Tell me your thoughts on Miss Phantomhive?” Ciel asked as Sebastian started to turn. 

“Miss Phantomhive is quite an interesting character, for she is far superior to any other female in her position and should have been born with a…" 

"Do you think I am blind to your interactions Sebastian?” Ciel closed his eyes as he leaned against the back of the tub. 

“My lord, I have never thought such a thing." 

"I am not a fool, I am aware to the feelings you both share. However I am aware of her position in England and to the queen…" 

"I understand my lord.” Sebastian dropped his head slightly. 

“I also know that you are aware of how important she is to me, and I trust no man more to protect her.” His head raised slowly as he took in his master. 

“Do not toy with her heart, and don’t let any harm come to her, lest you desire to be dragged into my hell." 

"Yes… My lord.” He answered as Ciel lifted his hand and made a waving motion. 

“Now go to her, I am sure I can bathe myself.” These words caused him to turn on his heels and walk calmly to the room of the eldest Phantomhive, his hand raised to knock, however before he could you called, “come in." 

Originally posted by mamotte

"Sebastian, I thought you were to be bathing Ciel now?” You asked as he walked in, and started towards your bed. He sat on your sheets and placed his gloved hand upon your own. 

“The young master is aware of our romantic relationship.” Sebastian started, causing your eyes to widen. 

“He simply can not fire you, you both are in a binding contract and…" 

"He has given me the proper permission to court you. He has made it very clear as well that if I break your heart I am to be doomed.”

“Oh.” You said, looking at the floor, your head facing away from him 

“Are you not happy my dear?” He asked, taking his free hand and turning your head towards him. 

“I am, I just fear when this is over, when you may return to…" 

"I will still love you, and stand by your side. Even after the deed is accomplished." 

"Well.. Then how will Grell feel?" 

"He will understand."He whispered as he leaned forward and kissed you, making it so that you never wanted to kiss another soul.

Originally posted by meowanime

anonymous asked:

Food for thought: Was Anne of Cleves actually ugly, (pockmarks, etc)? Or was she "normal" / just not henry's "type." (Did henry even have a type?)

Nah, she wasn’t ugly, at least not by the standards of her contemporaries. Of course, we have to account for reports being exaggerated for diplomacy’s sake, but observers broadly stated she was rather attractive, quite pretty in fact (one said she was more handsome than Katheryn Howard).

Namely, I think there was a lack of chemistry and that she wasn’t what Henry expected – AoC was gracious but, it seems, awkward. Understandably so, as she did not know the culture and England seems to have been more “polished” than her homeland of Cleves. My opinion is she was not sophisticated; her brother insisted to Henry that she not be allowed to learn any instruments and, iirc, tried to prevent her from singing and dancing as well. She had decidedly not been educated finely in the way of Henry’s first two wives. Instead, she was taught to run a household efficiently among other traditional domestic duties such as needlework. I don’t think that was necessarily a deal breaker, however, as Jane Seymour was much the same. Elizabeth Norton, biographer of both, states “Jane Seymour received an education as limited as Anne’s”. She goes on to say that Anne’s mother provided her the best education she saw fit for the wife of a German duke or prince, but “it was very far from what would have been ideal as a future queen of England”.

What strained and damaged their relationship from the start was AoC rejecting Henry on sight, when he did the chivalrous act of trying to swoop in and woo her dressed as a peasant. Anne swiped left. You can’t blame her: Anne reacted coldly and probably disgusted because she did not know this man and had not been raised on the code of courtly love and chivalry (which he did not seem to be aware of). Her reaction and rejection left a very sour taste in Henry’s mouth. It was a disastrous first meeting for the couple.

Last but not least, Henry was used to building some sort of relationship with the woman in question before marriage; AoC was the only one he did not know on some grounds before nuptials.

It’s a shame, though – Anne would have made an able albeit probably traditional consort. By my reckoning, she was the most like Elizabeth of York. They were both reported as very genuinely sweet and charitable people, and they both loved a good time and music, etc. AoC took to English culture like a fish to water and she loved his children, especially Elizabeth from what I’ve read. I think she would have made a fine and competent consort. England certainly was fond of her.

Tumblr Prompt ( Jung Kook * OC)

Read part one here 

Part 2

“Jung kook came to my office today.” My sister said , the moment she stepped into the apartment. i froze, terrified. My heart began pounding, fluttering desperately like some sort of a small bird in a cage and i pressed my palm to my chest , momentarily choking. 

“Did you-”

“ Tell him that you were hiding in my apartment? No, I did not. But he knew that. He told me that he ‘ got your message ‘. And then he gave me this.” 

i flinched when i saw the envelope. 

“oh.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i made sure to go into the gurst room and lock the door, lest my sister let her curiosity get the better of her and decided to barge in or somethimng. i sat on the bed with trembling fingers and carefully opened the envelope before smoothing out the letter. 

 Dear Wife, 

It doesn’t feel weird calling you that, at all, because you are my wife. You are . And i think, more than anything else, I deserve a better good bye than the crap i just read. 

First of all, let me be completely clear about something. 

Our marriage existed on more than just paper. I supported you. I came home to you every night. I talked to you and we were friends. Don’t deny that, alright? And yes, I did not spend a lot of time in the apartment with you and that had everything to do with the fact that i’m a busy actor and nothing to do with me not wanting to be with you.

and next : my supposed supermodel girlfriend. Lalisa is my oldest, best friend. i won’t lie and tell you that I've never slept with her or that we never dated. We did. But none of that happened after i married you. Yes, I cooked dinner for her and i took her out on picnics but did you really miss the fact that we did it on cam? We did it , mostly for our fans and for the media and we did it because when we signed our contracts, fan-service was a part of the deal. 

i don’t even know how to cook, shit okay. None of that crap was even remotely edible and we usually tossed it right in the bin after filming. 

about the tabloids that made you seem awful : you should realize that has nothing to do with you being you, and everything to do with me being an actor. i could have married the Queen of England and people would still write crap about her , not because of her but because she married me. And i remember telling you about this, even before we did marry. i told you not to take any of it to heart.

And then, about me not being in your bed : we’re going to have  that conversation in person. i think you need a physical demonstration of how badly and in what capacity , I wanted to be in your bed. 

And , Y/N , i’m not bitter either. 

I’m just so fucking furious . 

Because you never gave me the chance to explain any of this and just fucking filed divorce papers and left me , without so much as a warning. 

Six months ago, I did come home with Lisa but NOTHING HAPPENED. 

Because she’s not the one I want. 

 You say, you watched me watch her. Well, I watched you watch me and , Y/N i know you love me , just as much I love you. And i know why you ran. 

You’re scared aren’t you? You’re scared of my career, scared of my fans , scared of a lot of things. 

Scared that perhaps, I’ll also become one of those men who leave you. Well, I’m not. I will never hurt you and i think, after this god-awful heart attack you gave me 

( imagine coming home with theater tickets hoping to take your lovely wife out for dinner and a show and maybe tell her how you feel only to find that said wife, has not only moved out of your home but also fucking filed divorce papers, what the fuck. i’m going to teach you a nice fucking lesson about communication when i get my hands on you, babe. ) 

So, now, 60 hours before our so called divorce, i have just one thing to say.

You’re not getting rid of me that easily. 

I’m coming for you, and I’m not letting you go. 

You’re mine.

Always, 

Jeon jung kook. 


“ Y/N… are you okay?” My sister pounded on the door and i flinched. 

“uh.. yeah. I’m.. I’m fine.”

Holy shit, i was screwed. 

Author’s note : One more part left. ;0 ) Comments are love!! 

Ken Penders and how his misinformed view of how monarchies work ruined not only what could have been a good au story but also Sonally

*profanity warning*

Now, just to preface as you may have gathered from my current icon and some of my art, I primarily ship Sonamy, however that does not mean that I hate Sally or Sonally, as a matter of fact I really like Sally as a character, she subverts some of the typical princess tropes (which I’ll get to later) and her relationship with Sonic, especially in SatAm is really fun to watch, they bounce off of each other so well. 

Keep reading

Part 1 of a step by step to plants and their practical uses.

Lavender :

Properties : Anti-inflammatory, Antiseptic, Analgesic,  antimicrobial, antispasmodic, insecticide, antidepressant.

Uses : Acne, asthma, athlete’s foot, bruises, colic  pain relief, Eczema, burns, wounds, headache, wrinkles, dark circles, rashes, sprains, sunburn.

Magic: protection, love potions, happiness, cleansing, increases clairvoyance.

Planet : Mercury

Element : Air

Folk law: lavender is believed to have been Queen Cleopatra’s secret, she used the scent to make men fall in love with her. In England its powers even became song. “Lavenders green Dilly Dilly, lavenders blue. You must love me Dilly Dilly because I love you.” it was used during the plague as a cure, but we now know that it actually worked because it’s an insect repellent and had been driving away the fleas. Monks realised that it increased spiritual awareness and created gardens of lavender called “physic gardens”.

Great for making bath bombs

The current full herbal guide (Click Here)

In honour of International Women’s Day, let’s just remember the good queens of the Chronicles of Narnia series.

Queen Helen of Narnia: the first queen. Called into Narnia because her husband happened upon it, and it was only natural that she was there beside him. She spoke up when Polly was too afraid. Like most, while in England she was rather ordinary, in Narnia she proved every inch a queen.

Queen Susan the Gentle (a.k.a. Susan of the Horn): A doubter turned a believer. She was a child, but she was a queen: a leader, a diplomat, and even a warrior if need be. (You can’t tell me the bow/arrows were never ever used in battle. I know she didn’t “like to ride in the wars” but that doesn’t mean she’d never fight, or never defend her home.) She cared for her subjects. She ruled the Golden Age of Narnia with her brothers and sister by her side.

Queen Lucy the Valiant: Entered Narnia like a dream, but did not doubt herself when others did. Steadfast. Loyal. True. Not just brave, but Valiant. A small child to begin with, but undoubtedly a queen. She fought because she loved her country, loved her people. She never gave up. She was a beacon of faith and hope, much like the lamppost itself.

Queen Aravis of Archenland: A Calormene runaway, though initially she plotted much worse for herself. Teetering between prideful and confident, she was nobody’s fool. She sought empowerment by looking down on Shasta, but found empowerment by working beside him in their quest. Always noble, but never thought she’d be a free queen.

Queen Lilliandil: Although unnamed in the books, she had a huge effect on everyone who met her. Dazzling beauty, but she would not be taken in. She knew her worth; the star’s daughter. Ruled well by Caspian’s side, and raised her son to be a righteous man. Mourned by all when she was lost.

That is not to mention so many of the wonderful ladies in Narnia, (and to ignore the fact that even those who were never royalty such as Jill and Polly were described as Queens once they got to the True Narnia/Aslan’s Country.) But I think we need to take a moment to appreciate all these different women who became queens in different ways.

Because we might feel kind of ordinary sometimes, but we have the power to live as queens: Loyal. Just. Valiant. Kind. Confident. Beautiful. Wise.

We can do it all. ✨

Dear dog breeders

I am literally so fucking mad i can feel my blood boiling. Stop fucking using the excuse that breeders “test their dogs” and that they “barely make any money” just to make yourself feel better about buying an inbred dog as a conversation piece. What breeder in the whole fucking world tests their dogs? Some top tier shit that’s who, I have fucking experience in animal rescues and rescuing dogs from CKC registered and “reputable” breeders who didn’t even do any of the fancy breeding shit like that. i HAVE FUCKING SEEN SOME SHIT THAT’S GIVEN ME PTSD BECAUSE BREEDERS PRODUCE MILLIONS OF MORE DOGS EVERY YEAR AND THEY ARE RESONSIBLE FOR ALL THE GENERATIONS AFTER THAT END UP IN ABUSIVE HOMES, ON THE STREETS AND DYING IN SHELTERS. I’ve literally had to pull a Doberman out of a ditch who’d been hit by a car and the owner turned out to be a CKC registered breeder that told us to just put him down because she “didn’t need him anymore”. Don’t you come here and give me the excuse that they don’t make money. If a breeder has a litter of 6-8 German Shepherd pups, and sells them for $2500 each, that’s fucking up to 20,000 !! If you breed her twice a year that’s up to 40,000!?!?! Some ”reputable” breeders can charge up to $5000 per pup depending on their business. Once the dog leaves the breeders care, they do not know what happens to it and they do not care about it.  

Your god damn “tests” and “supplements” barely make a dent in that money. I’ve rescued from your fucking “reputable” breeders. There are so such things as “dog contracts” when you buy from a breeder unless she fucking breeds for the queen of England. What is the fucking issue with spaying your dog? It’s not that hard? You want a puppy? There are literally millions in shelters? I don’t fucking understand what pleasure breeders derive from hoping their dogs have sex? You’re not bettering the breed when you are creating dogs who can’t breathe because they have no faces, dogs who have deformed spines, dogs who have such deformed hind legs that they can’t even run, etc. Like fuck 25% of all dogs in shelters across NA are pure bred. I’m not saying you can’t have one I just don’t understand what purpose it holds to breeders? 

I REALLY DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY BREEDERS KNOW THE AMOUNT OF CRUELTY AND SUFFERING THAT THEY CREATE FOR FUTURE GENERATIONS OF MILLIONS OF DOGS AND STILL BREED? What purpose does it hold?? My town has literally hired a group to capture and euthanize stray dogs because there is such an overpopulation. Every one of them can be linked back to a Siberian Husky breeder that lived here in the 90′s people say. If you benefit the breeding of animals, you are a sick fuck. Explain to me why breeding makes you happy without using excuses. I’m tired of this “breeders don’t make money because they test their dogs bullshit” which we all know is a fucking lie and only a fraction of the “reputable” breeding population does it and it’s not like what you all think it is. In this society, breeding is just not sustainable anymore.

Read this post my friend made going in depth about “reputable breeding” before dumping your stupid ass excuses into my inbox.

Wherever You Take Me

Reposting because college AUs seem to be the go at the moment and sometimes being in the future means missing out on the peaks. Sorry if you’ve read this already.

This was written as a 60 minute word vomit over the weekend inspired by a chat over on @lepus-arcticus blog about what music Mulder and Scully might have listened to when they were younger. It’s set in Glastonbury in 1984. It’s total AU fluff. But it took me back to my youth and to my country of birth. 


She sunk down behind the tee-pee and scraped the crust off the bottom of her sandals. Joan Baez was singing Diamonds and Rust and she knew Missy would be swaying along.

             “I don’t know about you, but I’m waiting for Billy Bragg.”

             She turned towards him. “I saw two shooting stars last night, I wished on them but they were only satellites.”

             He sat in front of her, long feet sticking out from under his ripped denim hems. He chewed on a blade of grass. “I don’t want to change the world, I’m not looking for a new England.”

             The first drops of rain fell from the brooding sky. “What are you looking for?” She felt the breath hitch in her chest, a symptom of her startling boldness. Missy would be grinning so hard if she could see her little sister exchanging song lyrics and bad pick-up lines with a dark and moody fellow American.

             “Someone to wash the mud out of my clothes and work out what the hell I was thinking when I agreed to come to a field in the middle of Somerset to camp and eat out of cans. They don’t even do S’mores. It’s practically prehistoric here.”

             “I’ve got Graham crackers in my tent and there’s plenty of chocolate,” she said. “If you can find some marshmallows, perhaps we can have a real American campfire.”

             “Don’t you have plans…I don’t know your name.”

             She lifted her arm towards the stage behind her. “My sister’s fallen in love for the third time in two days. She won’t remember that she promised to cook dinner tonight. I’m Dana.”

              He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “Mulder.” Energy fizzed through her veins. His smile was a memory-maker. His fringe flopped into his eyes and dark stubble defined his strong jaw. Those lips, the unreadable eyes, she felt herself blushing as he held her gaze. “My on-again, off-again girlfriend is off-again, on-again with her other boyfriend. So, I would be honoured to share my tin of Heinz baked beans with you. I even have cheese – real West Country cheddar to melt on the top. If you like that kind of thing.”

             She thought she might.

“Do you like the Smiths, Dana?”

“I don’t think I’ve heard anything they’ve sung.”

“If you want something to do after baked beans, they’re on. We can go wherever we please and everything depends on how near you stand to me.” His voice was golden-gravel.

“Sorry?” she whispered.

And if the people stare, then the people stare, Oh, I really don’t know and I really don’t care. Lyrics from hand in glove. Johnny Marr and Morrissey are poets. Their words really resonate with me, you know?” He bumped his fist against his heart and looked away to the rolling clouds. “England is a paradox, isn’t it?”

“How do you mean?”

“Polite and clever, proud but humble, clever but contained, pretty in a way like no other, she’s the ideal woman; but she’s surrounded by a bitter sea and constantly battling the demons of tradition. She is both a queen and a princess. She’s history and charm and hope and hell.”

“Are you talking about your girlfriend or this country?”

He twisted the blade of grass in his fingers and laughed. “Sometimes, I’m not sure but I am certain that you’ll love the Smiths so I’d be honoured if you’d join me. Your sister might fall out of love and be in need of some poetic metaphor to mourn to tonight.”

She put her sandals back on and stood up, feeling small in his presence. “My sister won’t spend too much time mourning. She bounces back pretty quickly.”

“Resilience is a great quality.” He put a hand on the small of her back. “What do you do, Dana?”

“I’m at medical school, what about you?”

“I’m at Oxford, psychology.”

“And yet you don’t know why you’re here?”

His face softened. “I think I’m escaping.”

A couple wandered past, entwined and giggling. They stumbled into a tent a few spots down. The canvas shuddered. Then they scrambled out, laughing even louder. “I think that’s what most people here are doing. The aroma is always…somewhat…escapist.”

He laughed again. “I think there is a natural tendency for dreaming and fantasising about a way of life that is totally different to our own, don’t you think? I mean, when I look at the stars I wonder what’s out there. Who’s out there.”

“I think about energy requirements and asteroids and black holes.”

His mouth curved. “You don’t believe?”

“In what?”

“Life outside of earth?”

She shook her head. “Life on this planet is hard enough to cope with, don’t you think?”

Turning, he crawled into his tent and from the darkened inside, beckoned to her. “I’d like to show you something.”

Missy would have cackled at that one, but his face seemed so genuine, his eyes held such intelligence, that she got up and walked after him. He was rifling through a bag and she looked around the tent, luggage spilling out clothes, books piled high. He turned around and showed her a photo. In it, a boy and girl were smiling to the camera.

“Me and my sister. She was taken, when she was eight and I was twelve.”

“Taken?” Her heart pounded and she ran a finger over the image. A grainy shot of a girl who was no longer in his life. A child, disappeared. But here, in this photo, always smiling. Always reminding him of her existence. Kept in perfect innocence by a chain-reaction of chemicals on paper.

“You asked me earlier why I was here, why I’m escaping? She’s why.”

He offered her a beer and she took it. They listened to the muffled music as he cooked her beans with West Country cheddar. He chatted about his sister, the fateful night, the emotional fall-out, his parents’ relationship. She talked about her sister and brothers, wanting to make her father proud, her hopes and dreams.

The beer was warm but making her ears tingle and her skin buzz. He lit up a joint and they shared it. “Marriage and babies and a white picket fences? That surprises me, Dana.”

“Why?”

“You seem cut out of a different cloth. I don’t know,” he rubbed his face and inhaled. “This is going to sound all wrong, but I think you are here to do something extraordinary in the world.”

She let out a surprised giggle. “Like what?”

He leant in and she could smell his cologne, the weed, his maleness. Turning, their lips caught and he tasted the same, of musk and possibilities. When he pulled back he had a strange smile on his face. “Like you’re going to mean something to someone, like you’re going to be the one soul that will help this person to truly live, like you’re going to be powerful in an unexpected way.”

Their lips joined again and he pulled her hard towards him. The music was lifting outside and voices rumbled by, singing, laughing, shouting. He pulled her to the sleeping mat, covered in a blue sleeping bag.

She bit her lip. “What about your girlfriend?”

“Who?”

“What about the Smiths?”

“I predict that 1984 is just the start of their journey. We’ll see more of them.”

His hands were already tugging at her top and she sighed out, giving in to the pure joy of her heightened state.

“Where are you going, Mulder? On your journey?”

His hands grazed her nipples and his teeth brushed her neck. She didn’t really want to hear his answer. She wanted to experience it. After a while, he pulled back and grinned.

“Wherever you take me, Dana.”

fruk-de-lys  asked:

Yeah Arthur, I know you will hate me when you'll find out that I'm always the one asking the embarrassing questions ... But .. Can you tell me more about those erotic photographs that Francis (@ask-aph-francis) mentioned earlier ? ;)

Besides, the Queen liked it when I stayed with trends, she was a very fashionable woman, and so- SHUT UP!

@fruk-de-lys @ask-aph-francis

Crossover: Reign x Vikings

Part I - Part II

Fandom: Vikings x Reign
Pairing: Ivar The Boneless x Queen Mary Stuart
Words: 2030
Summary: While all the advisors strongly insist on hanging Ivar for his acts Mary wants to here him out. Not because she believes in the good of his heart but because he could have information that is worth her time looking him in the eyes.

Update Tag: @whenimaunicorn @fandomgirl770 @sugakookiexx @blonde-valkyrie @sereniti9 @synnersaint @lyra-stark99 @ivarsvalkyrie @rockyrascal @midnightpanda @believerofall @kryall460-blog @daddarihoe-21 @littlepanda-love @thebonelesswife @rachiieee @madison14m @littlewolfieposts @ruler-of-hel


‘Mary!’ Somebody loudly knocked on the door. Mary squeezed her eyes together, slowly opening them to the light that pour down in the room. The little sparks of dust floated on a strain of light, dancing in the column. ‘Mary!’
‘What is it?’ She asked, hardly awake enough to even get to business. James walked in excusing himself on his invasion in her room. Maybe she had a little much to drink last night on the feast, that would explain her being still in bed. She pushed herself out of the bed, taking her night rope from the end of her bed, stroking her dark hair over it as she pulled it on.
‘We have a problem in the cells.’ He began. Mary looked up from her own nightgown to her brother.
‘Don’t tell me he escaped.’
‘No, Catherine is there.’ He clarified. Mary knotted the rope close around her body before walking to the door.
‘Why is she always interfering,’ she snapped her own words and started to walk out of her room. She rather was dressed to go down there but knowing Catherine she could do a lot of damage on a very short amount of time. The guards followed her and James down to the cellar of the castle. ‘Catherine.’ Mary shouted as soon as she arrived, looking how the queen regent stood in the doorway of that cell.
‘Mary, glad for you to join us,’ her eyes went over Mary her nightgown. ‘you couldn’t take some time to dress up?’
‘What are you doing here Catherine, he is mine prisoner, not yours.’ She ignored the previous comment and looked into the cell to the cripple sitting on the bench. He had his eyes squeezed a little together, looking from one to the other.
‘I’m far more equipped in getting answered than you do my dear.’ She whimpered Mary off, turning her eyes already back to the prisoner.
‘If I need somebody to poison him I will sure reach out to you.’ Mary reacted neutral, looking how Catherine walked into the cell.
‘Such a pretty face, a shame for the legs, or the fact you came from that wild herd of cows.’ She chuckled a little on the last and Mary could see Ivar his jaws clench together. She turned aside to her brother and nodded, he gestured two soldiers in who took Catherine at her arm.
‘You may be queen regent in France but you are here in Scotland, under my rule and my invitation, go.’ Mary pointed out. Catherine jerked her arm away from the soldier and walked out the cell on her own. ‘I learned a lot from you Catherine De Medici, surly I can behead a man for burning down my villages without your help.’ Mary said, giving Ivar a short smile. Catherine smiled, almost proudly and stroke her dress before walking out. Mary stood in the doorway of the cell and scour her fingernails with her thumb, looking to Catherine walking out. Her eyes fell on the set of arms a few cells further, hanging out, a face smiling in the dark shadows. Mary looked over her shoulder to Ivar who was still silently watching her before she walked over. ‘Where are you laughing about?’ She asked Hvitserk.
‘Two woman arguing, what isn’t there to laugh about.’ He reacted. Mary looked at him for a moment, suppressing the smile that started to lighten her face. ‘You better get something different to wear, you look quite ravishing in this.’ He suggested. Mary snapped out of the light feeling she had for a moment and looked down over her nightdress, pressing her lips together before walking out, leaving him chuckling in his cell.

‘We don’t give him a change, he burned down the villages, he needs to hang, so does his brother.’ One of the advisors said boldly. Mary looked away from her man towards Catherine who said on the end of the table, she just stretched her fingers, like she empathized with those words, before she rested them back under her chin.
‘We should hear them out.’ James applied to the conversation.
‘They killed our people, they are pagans, they won’t stop.’
‘No, but there is information, they have settlements in England.’ Mary suggested. The advisors looked to each other, the one more willing on listening than the other. Mary turned her head and looked toward her brother. ‘Get me both Hvitserk and Ivar.’ She nodded. He bow and walked out before Mary stood up and folded her hands together. ‘Thank you all for coming, as soon as I have more information I will gather a new meeting.’ She thanked the advisors. They stood up, one by one, bowing before leaving the room for her to be alone with the prisoners. Mary walked away from the table with food and walked over to the window, looking out over the courtyard, the fields behind the gate, the forest. This was all hers and now it laid under a threat. She gazed outside until the doors pushed open and James walked in with the guards. Mary turned around and looked towards Hvitserk and Ivar while walking back to her throne. They dropped Ivar down to the ground like he was nothing more than a piece of meat and Mary looked down for a moment.
‘Oh, they are here.’ Catherine smiled, walking in.
‘What is she doing here?’ Hvitserk asked sceptic. Mary always saw him smile, or being charming in a way, now was he almost as cold as his brother. Mary sat down while Catherine came to stand aside her throne.
‘This is Catherine De Medici, queen regent of France.’ Mary introduced the woman aside her.
‘What means if you want war with Scotland, you will have France on your back to.’ Catherine said it almost joyful, folding her hands before her stomach while looking down over the two men. Mary looked away, to the ground for a moment.
‘Do you really need another queen to back up your throne?’ Ivar mocked. Mary her eyes flew up to him, he placed his hands under his body, dragging himself closer without losing sight of her. Mary just looked back into the coldness his eyes brought.
‘Catherine, get out.’ Mary reacted short. Ivar smiled, slowly, eyes traveling up to the other queen. ‘Now.’ Mary pressed on. Catherine grabbed her skirts and walked down the few stairs, giving the cripple a poisoning look before walking out without looking back. As soon as the door fell shut Mary looked back to both brothers. Hvitserk seemed to relax a little while Ivar just smiled, looking down to the ground. ‘You killed sixteen of my people,’ she started coldly. ‘look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong.’ She followed. Ivar slowly looked up to her, confident radiating in his gaze, his temper blurring just underneath the surface.
‘You’re not.’ He answered. Mary looked up to Hvitserk who just tilted his head, giving her a serious expression. James who stood beside her looked aside to her but Mary ignored that look.
‘My advisors advised me to just hang you for the acts you brought upon my people, I needed to know why.’ Mary began.
‘England is praying on your throne Mary.’ Hvitserk pointed to the throne she was sitting on.
‘Queen, still.’ She corrected him. Hvitserk smiled and nodded, like he agreed on it.
‘Queen.’ He repeated himself.
‘And I knew that already, tell me something I don’t know.’ Mary followed, looking back to Ivar who turned his body, sitting up straight. He was looking to the way she was ticking the armrest with her fingers until she stopped and then he looked back to her.
‘Then you also know your loyal subjects are turning against you.’ Ivar assumed, squeezing his eyes together to measure her reaction. Mary her jaw clenched a little before she slowly looked aside to James. Was he speaking the truth? ‘Ah, you didn’t know.’ He triumphed in amusement.
‘So you thought to help a little out?’ Mary asked him way to polite. Ivar chuckled, looking over his shoulder towards his brother.
‘In agreement with the queen of England we have a two settlements there, we get some ears inside, telling they got spies into Scotland. When she attacked one of our settlements we assumed she broke the agreement.’ Hvitserk explained, hands crossed before his chest.
‘And for that we take away her only leverage on success and power.’
‘By killing my people!’ Mary shouted, interrupting Ivar in his smug announcement.
‘They were working for England Mary.’ He hissed. ‘Ruling requires that your hands are drenched in blood, you should try it sometimes.’ He followed, placing his hands on one stair that leaded to her throne. Mary looked down to him, into the heat that spread through his blue eyes.
‘So you did this out of the goodness of your heart?’ She mocked him. That darkness in his eyes spread towards his lips, rolling his jaw in a smile.
‘I want my revenge, I want to see England fall.’ He said, low voiced, almost like a whisper.
‘And you need Scotland to do that for you?’
‘She is coming for you either way, why not just take a leap of faith.’ He shrugged. Mary looked up to the door that went open, a man walked in, shoulder long flat brown hair, a beard, funny way of walking.
‘David,’ Mary greeted him with a little relief.
‘Can I speak to you my queen?’ He asked politely. Mary looked a short moment towards Ivar before she stood up and walked over to her most loyal advisor, David Rizzio was an odd man, but loyalty you would find with nobody else more than with him.
‘It took you quite some time to come back.’ Mary said as she approached him, silencing her words for the two brothers while walking to the corner of the throne room.
‘There is a lot to tell.’
‘Let me guess, I have traitors among my men willing to fight for England?’ She guessed. Davis his eyes opened a little surprised before he nod.
‘I got information, I have the villages where they harbor those traitors.’ David recalled on her words.
‘They are already dead.’ She said, leading David back to where the two brothers were. Hvitserk stood aside the table, grabbing himself an apple, like he felt already home. ‘This is Ivar the Boneless, leader of the great heathen army, he killed those men, burned those villages. Lucky for him it isn’t his time to hang.’ She introduced Ivar to her advisor, standing still before the little platform on which her throne stood.
‘He confirmed our story?’ Hvitserk guessed.
‘He did.’ Mary nodded, not looking away from Ivar. He was challenging her, to go in on the offer he made on joining forces or just challenging her because he wanted to scare her.
‘What you gonna do now queen Mary?’ Ivar spotted her on those last two words. Mary forced a smile on her lips and lifted her skirts before crouching down to eye level herself with him.
‘You gonna go back to your cell, think about what you gonna say the next time you see me. I know nothing comes without a prize with you, so think about it, very carefully. The wrong answer and you can fight your war alone with England.’ She softened her voice to a threatening volume.
‘You will have nothing when she comes.’
‘I have France. You will have nothing.’ She spoke between clenched teeth. He smiled again before lowering his eyes, looking at every detail of her face and body.
‘Now I understand why there isn’t a man sitting at your side on that throne, it needs temper to fight a queen like you.’ And yet again he caught her of guard, got the last words in the conversation. Mary slowly stood up and nodded towards her guards. They grabbed Ivar at his arms, pulling him up. It hardly did something to him, he kept grinning, teasing, dominate the room with his presents.
‘Not him.’ Mary reacted when another guard was planning on grabbing Hvitserk. ‘He stays with me.’ She followed, giving him a short look before turning back to the soldiers who dragged Ivar out. What was she even considering?

Trust me

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing,” Lily reached higher, trying to pinpoint the perfect place to hang the string of bunting.

The university was having a party and she had foolishly volunteered to help set up. The party was in honour of the queen, she was turning 90 and everyone in England got weirdly excited about it. They all like pretending they knew Liz personally.

Marlene started up at the red head, who was wobbling at the top of a very poorly manufactured ladder. There was an 80% chance Lily would fall before finding the perfect spot for the decorations. 

“Lil, I think you should maybe leave that to a professional,” Marlene pleading, not wanting her best friend to fall and crack her head open.

“What? A professional bunting putter-upper?” The redhead giggled causing the ladder to sway excitedly. Marlene sighed and ushered the other girl to hurry up. 

After another five minutes the bunting was perfectly positioned and definitely completed the whole party “look,” according to Lily anyway. The two girls moved towards to sofa, claiming they deserved a break after their gruelling effort to help the decorating team.

“So, can we please talk about who is coming to this party?”

“Who?” Lily asked, unconcerned.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe just a certain Mr Frank Longbottom!” Marlene’s sly smile spread across her face.

“I’ve told you, I don’t like Frank, not anymore. Anyway, isn’t he dating that Alice girl from our philosophy class?” Lily wound her hair around her slim fingers, trying to hide how much she desperately wanted to know if Frank was single.

“Maybe, but who in their right mind would pick Alice Fortescue over Lily Friggin’ Evans?” Marlene laughed as Lily kicked her in the shin, “We need to get you looking perfect so he forgets all about ‘That Alice Girl.’”


As it turns out, Frank was dating Alice and it seemed to be going pretty well from what Lily could see. The pair spent to whole night attached at the hip meaning Lily could do nothing but stare longingly at the boy she had liked for a million years, as he flirted with another girl.

Finally, at precisely 12:57 am, Lily decided she couldn’t take it anymore. She scooped up a frayed cardigan and headed outside for some fresh air. With the cardigan wrapped around her she sat down on the stone bench just outside her and Marlene’s dormitory. Just as Lily had began feeling hopelessly sorry for herself, a loud crash dragged her from the daze. Two boys were stood by the bushes not far from where she was sat. In the darkness it was difficult to make out anything except one tall, lean figure, standing next to another figure crouched next to an overturned rubbish bin. But as the standing figure turned, Lily caught sight of his face, illuminated in the dull, yellow glow of the streetlight.

James Potter.

Lily could hardly go anywhere in this college without hearing stories of the mischief he and his three close friends got up to. He was possibly the most popular boy in school, and there he was, standing angelic just metres from where Lily sat, sulking. It wasn’t as if she had never seen him before, of course she had. She’d never had a conversation with him, but she would always see him walking around school, trailed by his many admirers. For some reason, though, tonight it was if his jet back hair was even more endearingly messy. Or the dimple that formed with he smiled was even more enticing. Or his perfect hazel eyes had suddenly become more fascinating. 

Whatever the reason was, Lily felt the undeniable urge to be near him tonight. And so, as if some invisible force was pulling her along she headed towards the two figures. 

“Hi,” She said as she neared the boys: so unoriginal. 

“Hi,” James turned and Lily was hit with the strong scent of boy. Beautiful boy. 

“Um, what- is everything okay?” She managed to say, while trying to stop herself from getting lost in his eyes.

I am fine,” James smirked, “Sirius on the other hand…”

“Fuck off,” the other boy mumbled from the bushes.

“What happened?” Lily asked, not really interested in the story, just wanting to hear more of James’s deep voice.

“He chugged an entire bottle of Patron; not his smartest move yet,” he looked at the figure on the ground with an expression that made Lily’s heart melt: disappointment, mixed in with a fierce protectiveness. Lily could tell straightaway that James would die before he let anything happen to this (was this Sirius Black?) boy.

“I’m James by the way,” he brought his gaze back to Lily and surveyed her with a half smile. She was suddenly uncomfortably conscious of the old and unflattering cardigan she was wearing.

“Lily,” she said and held out her hand. He took it and an electric current shot through her arm and warmed her entire body. When he let go she couldn’t help feeling as though she had lost something important to her. 

They talked for a few more minuted about classes and the party going on inside, but the conversation was cut of by a groan from Maybe-Sirius-Black .

“I should get him home,” he said, did he sound a little disappointed? Lily pushed the thought out of her head, of course not, he was James Potter. He didn’t want to be stood outside in the early hours of Sunday morning with a short, red-head in a hideous cardigan. But then-

“Can I get your number, Lily?” he asked, looking embarrassed.

Lily couldn’t help but smile, she love the way her name sounded when he said it, “And why would you want my number, James?”

“I’m starting a new yellow pages and thought you might want to be a part of it.”

Lily laughed in a way she was sure was extremely unattractive.

“No, seriously, I was thinking we could, I dunno, hang out sometime?” he sounded so nervous, Lily’s heart could have melted right there.

“Sure,” She said, making sure she wasn’t shouting from excitement. She typed her number into his phone and handed it back to him.

“Great,” he said, smiling, “Like I said, I should get him home.”

James reached down and dragged the other boy to his feet, his head lolled from side to side- yep, this was definitely Sirius Black.

“Do you need any help?” Lily asked, not wanting to say goodbye just yet.

“Nah, I’m used to this,” James draped one of Sirius’s arms around his own broad shoulders.

“Are you sure? Because I could-”

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing,” and with a wink he set off into the night. It was all Lily could do not to stare as he walked away from her.


This is the first thing I’ve written so it might be terrible, so sorry. It was really rushed because I’ve got to go to school now. But yeah- Ta Dah! 

o