#realfic

[richardarmitageshands]

Chapter 1 of my NSFW RA realfic, A Stranger in an Open Car, is up on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/56401561

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Hello Tumblr

The subreddit has directed me here to promote my realfic(s) about actor Richard Armitage on Ao3.

I do not know the etiquette of doing this, but here I am...

Here’s the first chapter of the ludicrous romcom I’m writing right now...

°1° ­~Victoria~

Victoria, Vic to her friends and Vicky to her father and Tory to her ex-husband, walked briskly towards the little café at the end of her street, lifting her shoulders to her ears to shield herself as much as possible from the wind that cut into her skin and made her face flush an unflattering shade of windburned red.

She had no idea what Angie and Liza were up to, but apparently, she was to have high tea today, which in itself was not a reason to distrust her friends, but a little voice at the back of her head told her quite clearly that this was not going to end the way she had anticipated, and she was already annoyed before even knowing what they would spring on her.

As her heels clacked on the pavement in an impatient staccato, she yanked her handbag that kept sliding off her shoulder a little harder to wrestle it back in place and slammed it into her face with full force.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” She cried out in the middle of the street, rolling her eyes at her own incompetence.

When she pushed open the door though, the warm smell of cinnamon and coffee wafted into her cold, numb face and she relaxed a little, especially as the young girl behind the counter gave her big, beaming smile and took the dark grey coat from her with perfect understated courtesy.

Victoria loved this place, she had loved it from the very first time her former husband had taken her here to introduce her to the owner of the little shop for whom he had a strange fascination (which turned out to be run-of-the-mill horniness, as Angie was a lesbian).

Once, this had been a townhouse much like the one Victoria lived in now, and the old doors were still clearly visible in the bright, open room where polished white tables and dainty chairs with faded blue upholstery invited for a quiet sit-down with a good book and a steaming cup of coffee or tea.

On the old mantlepiece over a disused fireplace, daisies and peonies smiled at her from a slightly kitschy, ornate vase and her favourite spot, right next to the huge windowfront looking out on a neat little courtyard with wrought-iron tables and chairs in impeccable white, was waiting for her.

Angie had worked wonders with the small, crowded rooms, making them appear more spacious without losing the cosy feeling they had once held, and every artfully decorated plate hung on the wall had a special meaning to the dreamy, romantic woman who was the owner and boss of the establishment.

As far as middle-aged women went, Victoria was a good enough catch with her reasonably attractive physique and her actually very pretty face, not to mention her considerable smarts and her undeniable wealth, BUT Victoria was also notoriously stubborn and easily angered.

Most importantly though, at least that was what Angie and her beloved Liza thought, Victoria had taken the ludicrous and completely insane decision never to date another man again after her divorce and they were having none of that nonsense.

Hence why they were about to have high tea with her to gauge how hot her distemper was still burning after months where she had shut herself away in that little house she had taken to spite her family and avoid her ex-husband, refusing to take most calls and only ever coming to the tearoom to read a script.

As a member of a highly successful production-team, Liza had decided to offer Vic a spot as proof-reader of scripts, as her friend seemed particularly good at finding mistakes or inconsistencies. Also, Liza was convinced that Vic needed a few stories in her rather dull life after the childhood and youth she had had.

Vic took her new job as seriously as she did everything else in her life, her existence as a hermit included, and this made Angie’s plan to find her nice man to at least bed increasingly hard.

“She doesn’t want a man.” Liza had rolled her eyes at her, but Angie was convinced that it was not good for a woman to leave home and hide somewhere in London in a tiny townhouse and refuse to meet any kind of new person. It made people bitter, and she definitely didn’t want Vic to become bitter.

“Jesus, Angie, listen, I see bitter old men every day at work.” Liza had laughed, but when her girlfriend’s eyes flashed a feline green, the idea had taken hold in her own head to convince Vic to change her mind after all.

Only, not only did Vic not want to meet any men, no, she had made it very clear that there was a certain type of man that she would never ever exchange a single word with again: wealthy, suave, and handsome men, which was exactly the kind of men Liza had to sell a dime a dozen.

In this very second, she watched Vic settle down in her usual spot, waiting for her friends to arrive, her eyes narrow, suspicious slits as she surveyed her surroundings with hawk-eyed distrust.

~Richard~

He was surprised to see his phone light up and when he saw the name on the screen, his amazement only grew. There was no good reason why Martin would call him up just now as they’d meet a few days hence for one of those terrible meetings where all the rich and beautiful would stand around, bored to tears.

“Hey, what’s up?” He picked up his phone, nonetheless, curious what his friend could want from him.

Martin droned on about all kinds of things before making sure that Richard would indeed show up on that fateful evening, he had just been musing about a few minutes earlier.

It was vital that the man would be there for the success of the plan that he had hatched out with a dear friend of his, which consisted of getting two boorish, middle-aged twats to have a roll in the hay.

Maybe that hay would be pure spun gold, but the roll would be the same as it was everywhere else on this planet for all kinds of people. As far as he knew, the woman Liza had pitched had been made a millionaire by her divorce…and an emotional cripple.

After having married her high-school sweetheart, she had been replaced by a woman 10 years her junior as soon as the money and the fame started rolling in. If Liza was to be believed, she had put her heart and soul into that marriage and into the platform she now owned 50% of, which made of this banker’s daughter a good catch…Only, she apparently hated all men with a burning passion now.

Enter stage left, a rather underwhelming specimen of said population: inveterate bachelor, notoriously shy and often awkward and still stunningly handsome artiste extraordinaire Richard Armitage.

Martin had no idea how much he and Liza had drunk that evening to really believe, even for a single moment, that it would be a good idea to pair a hissing, angry, and disillusioned divorcee with a man who had not even been able to convince wide-eyed ingénues of his merit, but for some reason, they had shaken hands on their game plan and he would be damned if he was the one to drop the ball on this one.

“Yes, I will come. Why?”

That makes two of them being suspicious from the get-go, Martin thought, feeling the challenge raise his hackles and light a fire within his chest. This could be great fun if they managed to pull it off.

“Just checking in on you, old horse, don’t get your panties in a bunch over it.” Martin chirped cheerily, rubbing his hands noiselessly as he popped the earbuds in to move around the house while being on the phone like the puttering busybody he was.

Richard pinched the bridge of his nose in silent exasperation, he worked too much and socialised too little, he was well aware of that, but God, what did people expect of him? Secretly, he HAD thought about ducking out of this function on the down low, but now, that was virtually impossible as at least one person would indeed be looking out for him to show up.

There was an edge to Martin’s voice that he didn’t like all too much either as it announced some mischief he could not yet fathom, but already, he could feel the shadow of those dark rainclouds falling on him and it made him frown impatiently.

He had no time to be the butt of a joke or the unsuspecting victim of some cruel prank that had been hatched in good faith, he had no doubt whatsoever about that, but he was too old to be made a fool of in public and he hoped that his friend would know that, and respect his boundaries.

Poppycock, the hell he would, Richard thought with a sigh, rubbing his forehead to dispel the headache that was building constantly behind his eyes. He really should be wearing those glasses more consistently, but he tended to forget when he was sitting around at home, lounging comfortably around with a good book and planning a productive, prolific future that would keep him from thinking too much about the things he had missed out on.

“I’ll be there, don’t you worry.” He grumbled, hoping that there would be enough mainstream artists so he could blend into the background and slip out of the crosshairs of those who were after some funny business.

“Then I’ll see you there. I’m sure you’ll look ravishing.” Martin chuckled and earned a disgruntled growl from his friend and colleague which made him laugh silently. Oh, he was smelling that something was up, Richard was too smart to be taken unawares, but he was also adorably easily to get flustered sometimes, and, if he was honest, Martin enjoyed that a great deal.

For a second, he pondered if it would be cheating to pull Ben into the fray, but he knew that he’d need help to steer poor, old Richard into the right direction and there was only so much a single man could do.

[nortonitenite]

If James wuz mah man, part trente-trois:

“Do you really think it’s a good idea?” I ask him from deep within the bedroom closet.

“Will you come out of there? I can barely hear you.”

Brushing my hair out of my face, I find him on the bed, peering at me. “Jimmy, you really want to leave London and flee to your family home in North Yorkshire?”

He sighs heavily, then nods. “I think we’d be safer there. It’s still fairly remote. We can walk around. Kipling will have a yard to run around in. The house is bigger.”

I throw my hands up, at a loss for a comeback. “Honey, it’s a four-hour drive. Aren’t there checkpoints or something?”

He laughs, surprising me. “Sweetheart, where do you think we are, Stalinist Russia? We can travel anywhere within England.”

I sink onto the bed next to him, my shoulders deflated. “But what about your work, people trying to contact you?”

He puts his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. “Where do you think North Yorkshire is? It’s not like we’re moving to the Amazon. And it’s only for a couple of months. You’d probably get more writing done up there.”

I turn toward him and slip my arms around his waist. “Us moving to some remote place just makes it all seem… so… zombie apocalypse.”

He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “You’re so melodramatic.”

[undertalebadfic]

From the REAL FIC “A Beautiful Day for a Wedding”

[nortonitenite]

If James wuz mah bae, part trente-deux:

“Hey, sweetie, why so serious?”

He doesn’t answer for a long while and my heart starts pounding in my ribcage.

“Sit down,” he says, indicating the sofa perpendicular to the armchair. “We need to talk.”

My throat dries up like the Sahara and I choke on my own spit.

He hands me his own whisky glass. “Drink this,” he commands.

I do as he asks though I’m close to hyperventilating at this point. “Are you breaking up with me?” I manage to gasp.

His blue eyes widen as he shakes his head no. “My God, why would you think that? Far from it, sweetheart.”

I sputter through my tears. “Damn it, Jimmy, you never ever say ‘we need to talk’ with that look on your face and that tone of voice. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

He rose from his armchair and sat next to me on the sofa, throwing his arms around me. “I’m sorry. I meant to talk to you about… us. No, no, don’t look like that.”

I’m holding my breath, hardly moving.

“I just want to make some changes. You do so much around the house. You’re not my housekeeper. You’re my wife. And you’re so skittish around me. Why are you so shy around me?”

I squirm in his hold, even though my first instinct is to curl into him and melt in his arms. “I don’t know, boo. It’s just… I get so intimidated by you sometimes.”

He scoffs. “Why? Because I’m a celebrity?”

I shake my head and kiss his cheek. “Because you’re you. You’re larger than life. And sometimes I still can’t believe you choose to be with me.”

He cups my face between his hands. “It’s you who I can’t believe choose to live with me despite my demands and moods and crazy schedule. You are amazing.”

I roll my eyes. “Stop it. You are.”

He kisses my chin. “You are.”

I giggle. “We can do this for hours.”

He kisses my brows. “We can. You just need to relax, okay? You have me. Got it?”

I drop my forehead on his shoulder and kiss it. “Got it.”

[nortonitenite]

If James wuz my man, part quatorze: "Backgammon," I say blankly, seeing the board spread out in front of him. "It's the game," he informs me quite seriously before sipping his apple juice. "Haven't we got another jigsaw puzzle to put together or maybe we can don our masks and walk Kipling? How's about Strip Jenga, eh?" His eyes crinkles in the corners as he laughs at me. "You'd do anything to avoid backgammon, huh?" I'm grasping at straws. "Strip chess! That would be fun." He puts a finger to his chin and says, "Hmm..." His eyes light up after a moment. "How about Strip backgammon?" I yelp in dismay. "I'd be naked within five minutes." He chuckles indulgently and winks. "That's the idea." I back away. "We should really be social distancing, you know. How about I stay clothed and you're the only one who strips?"

[percysforeverwife]

How it began

🌺🌊🤍

Okay, buckle up bestie, because this is gonna be a wild ride through Malika and Percy's journey. Get your tissues ready 'cause it's gonna be angsty and beautiful.

Malika and Percy: A Love Story for the Gods (and Demigods)

The Lightning Thief (Age 12)

Okay, so picture this: twelve-year-old Malika, all awkward limbs and a cascade of thick, unruly black hair that she's constantly trying to tame with butterfly clips. Her eyes, a warm, honeyed amber, are wide with wonder (and a little bit of insecurity). She's just found out she's a demigod – daughter of Aphrodite, no less – and that her whole life has been a lie. Suddenly living with her dad in a small apartment right next door to Sally Jackson in NYC isn't just a weird summer thing, it's…home now.

Percy? He's this scrawny kid with messy black hair and sea-green eyes that seem to see right through her. He's nice. Like, genuinely, refreshingly nice. And he smells like the ocean which is weird, but kinda intoxicating. He's also constantly getting into trouble, which Malika secretly finds adorable.

She INSTANTLY crushes. It's that innocent, pre-teen crush where she gets butterflies when he smiles at her and spends hours doodling "Malika + Percy" in her notebook. She helps him study (he needs it), listens to his worries about his mom, and just generally likes being around him.

"Hey, Malika," he says one afternoon, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk. "Thanks for helping me with the Greek myths. Mr. Brunner totally grilled me today, but I actually knew the answers!"

Malika blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "No problem, Percy. You're a good learner when you try."

The Sea of Monsters (Age 13)

One year later, and things are getting real. Malika's grown into herself a little more. Her hair is still long and wild, but she's figured out how to French braid it so it’s manageable – and that she can get away with a little eye liner thanks to Aphrodite. She's still got that baby fat on her, but she's starting to embrace her curves.

Percy's different too. He's taller, stronger, and there's a new confidence about him. The crush she had last year? It's morphed into something deeper. She loves him. She loves his loyalty, his humor, his unwavering kindness. She loves the way he stands up for the underdog and how fiercely protective he is of his friends.

Malika has been there for him she goes on the quest too, so that she can support him and be there when ever he needs.

She sees the way Annabeth looks at him. The way he looks at Annabeth. And a sharp, unfamiliar feeling claws at her chest. It's jealousy.

"You know," Malika says one night, sitting on the fire escape with Percy, the city lights twinkling around them. "Annabeth's really smart." She tries to keep her voice casual, but it comes out a little too tight.

Percy grins. "Yeah, she is. She keeps me from doing stupid stuff... most of the time."

Malika forces a smile. This sucks.

The Titan's Curse (Age 14)

Okay, so fourteen is a MESS. Malika is hitting puberty HARD. Her curves are becoming more pronounced, her hair is getting longer, and her emotions are ALL. OVER. THE. PLACE. She's also starting to master her Aphrodite powers, which is both awesome and terrifying.

More importantly, she sees Percy for the hero he is. The way he takes responsibility, the way he sacrifices himself for others... it's breathtaking. She admires him, like, truly admires him. Add the feelings she already has for him, she’s head over heels for the guy…

“I love you, Percy,” she mumbles, as she hugs him goodbye before he leaves on the quest to save Annabeth. “What was that?” he wonders, but she just shrugs it off and walks back to her cabin.

They go on the rescue for Annabeth and Artemis and Malika hates it!

The Battle of the Labyrinth (Age 15)

Okay, so THIS is where things get juicy. Fifteen is a whirlwind of hormones, danger, and confusing emotions. Malika's fully embraced her Aphrodite side now. She experiments with makeup, wears cute outfits (that are still practical for fighting monsters, of course), because she will not let a man stop her from looking cute just from the sake of battle.

She sees Percy. He’s still not over Annabeth. It has been years since she has loved Percy, and she decided that he would be hers.

She goes on the quest, and she sees that Annabeth is going to kiss him first!

But, she doesn’t let that happen. When they were alone at the beach, she confesses. “I love you, Percy Jackson, I have loved you ever since I met you. Please, I’m begging you, just give me a chance.”

Percy looks absolutely shocked, but he doesn’t say anything. She takes that as a sign for approval and kisses him right there. It was passionate and filled with years of longing…until Annabeth ruins it.

The Last Olympian (Age 16)

Sixteen. The year the world almost ended. The year Malika truly understood what it meant to be a hero.

The war is brutal. She sees friends die, sees the camp threatened, and she fights alongside Percy every step of the way. Their bond is forged in fire, strengthened by shared trauma. She knows that they are meant for each other!

And then comes the underwater kiss. After Percy defeats Kronos, he pulls her beneath the waves, and kisses her. This time with no interruption. No pressure. Just pure, unadulterated connection. It's like coming home.

The Heroes of Olympus (Age 17+)

Malika and Percy are solid. FINALLY. Like, soulmate solid. They are constantly going on dates and being together!

Then, the earth splits open and Malika is falling into Tartarus. NOT ANNABETH!

She doesn't have time to freak out. She lands hard, the air thick with poisonous fumes. This is it. She's going to die alone in the depths of hell.

Then, she sees a familiar figure. Percy. Of course it had to be him!

Together, they battle monsters, face their inner demons, and fight their way back to the surface. Their love deepens in the darkness, tested by unimaginable horrors.

She gets out first, but she holds up the sky! She is able to save herself and Percy.

“I will always love you, forever and always.”

The Aftermath

Life isn't perfect, of course. There's still trauma to unpack, monsters to fight, and prophecies to fulfill. But Malika and Percy have each other. They've been through hell and back, and they emerged stronger, more in love, and ready to face whatever comes next.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Disappointment this far

Me : Hello Tumblr...

Tumblr: ...

Me: I have a fanfic to promote...

Tumblr: cool, I'll just not show your post!

Me : *sad*