#the princess diaries AU

[tarzelladraws]

Princess Diaries AU for my first romcom bingo square!

A lot of ppl wanted the 2nd movie and I promise I’ll come back for it!

[libraryofgage]

The Prince and the Metalhead (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two (you're here!)

I know I just posted part one but I've got Thoughts for this AU that include: Steve's first birthday in Genovia and then his 16th, his conversation with his grandmother about attending public school in America for his senior year, and then we get into him attending Hawkins High and meeting Eddie!

So, yeah, plans lmao

Anyway, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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"You'll have a rotating course schedule. Mondays and Wednesdays will focus on math and social studies. Tuesdays and Thursdays will be science and literature. Friday will be Royalty lessons and the history of Genovia. We can also include an elective, if you'd like."

Steve blinks, staring at Sue for a moment before glancing at Jonathan and Robin. Jonathan is looking through a book of photography and Robin is idly scratching behind Dart’s ears. "Will we all have the same elective?" Steve asks.

"Not unless Jonathan and Robin want to join you," Sue says, looking at Steve expectantly. She's got a pen at the ready to write down what he says, and it suddenly feels like a lot of pressure.

Is there a wrong answer here? Is there an answer that gets him sent back to his parents? He looks down, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood. Before he can lose himself in his thoughts, a cold and wet nose presses against his hand. Steve blinks, smiling at Dart and picking her up to hold close. "What kind of electives are there?" he asks.

Sue hums softly, flipping to another page on her clipboard. "Possible electives include art, music, theatrical performance, physical education, equestrian studies, botany, and foreign languages, to name a few."

"I'll be taking photography lessons," Jonathan says, looking up at Steve and gesturing to his book.

Robin nods and leans back on her palms. "I'll be doing the physical stuff. Like learning how to fight and practicing ballet to improve my balance," she says, leveling a look at Steve that dares him to say anything about the ballet.

Steve wouldn't, though. He doesn't want to make Robin angry enough to ditch him. He looks down at Dart, thinking for a moment before asking, "Can I take more than one?"

"Of course, but you're limited to three for now," Sue says.

What would be the most helpful? Foreign languages, probably, since he'll definitely have to speak with ambassadors from other countries at some point. He should also learn something that can be shown off, a skill that he could pull out at functions to make his grandmother proud or distract guests.

"What language should I learn?" he asks.

Sue thinks for a moment, tapping her pen against her chin. "Mandarin. It's a business language, and we have close relations with a few representatives from China and Hong Kong. If you'd like to learn a Romantic language first, though, Spanish is good."

"I'll learn Mandarin," Steve decides, nodding once to himself. "And music. I want to learn to play...hmm...the piano."

With a nod, Sue writes his electives down. "Let me know if you'd like to add an elective later, Your Highness. In my opinion, though, your current courses will keep you properly challenged for now."

------------------------

Sue wasn't kidding about his academics being challenging. Steve struggles in math, muddles his way through science, drags himself through literature, and is ready to drop when he hits social studies. He'd ask the tutors to spend more time on topics, but Robin and Jonathan seem to have no problem keeping up, and Steve can't bring himself to disrupt their pace.

His Mandarin lessons are going just slightly better if only because the tutor seems to recognize that slower is better for him. After almost a month, he's starting to understand intonation and vocal variation better, and he can recognize a few characters on sight.

Piano lessons are also going well. His tutor there doesn't burden him with theory; she introduces the keys, shows him how to read sheet music, and then lets him choose songs to learn. Steve feels the most at ease when he's squinting at sheet music and slowly pressing piano keys into something recognizable.

The lessons he really looks forward to, however, are the ones for his Royalty Education. He gets to see his grandmother then, and she spends the whole day with him. Even better, something about this stuff just clicks. He's good at fixing his posture and memorizing silverware placement. He bows just right on his first try and his grandmother compliments his wave.

By the end of the lesson, she'll be smiling, her pride obvious, and take him for a walk in the gardens or to eat cookies in the kitchen.

"Royalty requires maintenance," Clarisse says, standing in front of Steve with relaxed shoulders. "You maintain your demeanor, your image, your knowledge of foreign dignitaries, your understanding of the people’s needs, and your humility. But you must also maintain your pride and your boundaries."

"That sounds like a lot," Steve says, idly tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"It can be overwhelming, but it becomes second nature in time," Clarisse explains, smiling reassuringly. "When you're royalty, you are constantly watched. Many eyes are kind or curious, but others are malicious, and you want to do everything you can to disappoint the malicious ones."

"How?"

"By acting like the Crown Prince you are."

"What kind of prince am I?" Steve asks, finally voicing the question that's been lingering since these lessons started. What kind of prince does his grandmother want? What kind of prince would best serve the people? What kind of prince will be so loved by all that nobody could even think of thinking about getting rid of him?

Clarisse hums, thinking for a moment. "I suppose a good one," she says, her slight smile telling Steve that she's only lightly teasing. "My hope is that you'll be kind and competent. You will make Genovia prosperous without compromising tradition. You won't allow politics to stand in the way of doing what's right by the people of Genovia. But this is a tiring job, so I hope you'll learn how to balance your duties with relaxation."

It's a lot, but Steve can do it. He can be that kind of prince, especially for the country and grandmother that's offered everything he's ever wanted and more. He nods once. "Okay," he says, "What do I need to learn, then?"

Clarisse smiles fondly at him. "Let's start by reviewing Genovian history. Only by knowing the past can you face the future."

With that, she places a book on Steve's desk and doesn't wait for him to open it before telling him about Genovia's founding.

------------------------

Steve has weekends off from classes, which leaves him with more free time than he knows what to do with when he doesn't have to clean a house or make his own meals. So, he's bored, and telling Robin that he was bored was a huge mistake after she suggested riding bikes around the garden only to learn Steve didn't know how.

She'd insisted that he should learn, insisted that Clarisse be the one who teaches him, and insisted on hearing no objections.

And now he's here, standing in front of Clarisse's desk and staring down at his feet as she finishes writing something on the paper in front of her. Joe is standing just to her right, hands behind his back.

"Okay," Clarisse says, gently placing her pen on the desk before looking at Steve with an encouraging smile. "What did you want to ask me, Steve?"

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, takes a deep breath, and looks up. "Well, um, Robin wants to ride bikes, but I don't know how," he says.

"Well, that's easily fixed," Clarisse says, reaching for a phone at the corner of her desk. "I'm sure a member of staff is free to teach you."

Before she can pick up the phone, Steve finds himself blurting out, "Well, I...I was hoping...you could teach me."

Clarisse freezes, blinking twice with confusion before looking at Steve. "You want me to teach you?" she asks. When Steve nods once, she sighs softly. "A queen does not ride bikes. Besides, I have too much work to complete. Perhaps I could accompany you for a walk this evening to make up for it."

Despite himself, despite bracing for rejection, it still hurts. In the three months he's been in Genovia, Clarisse has agreed to just about every request he's made. Every held breath as he waits for cruel words has been released with unprecedented relief when none came. Even when he broke something---a priceless vase, according to Jonathan---his grandmother had simply surveyed the damage, thanked him for being honest, and asked him to avoid kicking soccer balls in the presence of priceless vases in the future.

Perhaps Steve has gotten too comfortable. He shouldn't be pushing like this. If he wants his grandmother's affection, he should know when to hold himself back.

So, despite the unfamiliar urge to ask again in case Clarisse might change her mind, Steve nods once. "I look forward to walking with you, Grandmother," he says, his voice quiet. He glances up, waiting long enough to see Clarisse's smile before turning on his heel and leaving the office as quickly as he can.

Clarisse watches him go, her head slightly tilted as the door closes silently behind Steve. She nods once, glad that Steve is sensible enough to understand things like work and propriety, and picks up her pen once more.

"If I may speak freely, Your Majesty?" Joe asks.

"At this point, Joe, you may as well assume the answer is yes."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, and please pardon my French, my experience has been that assuming makes an ass out of you and me."

It takes a moment for Clarisse to understand the joke. When she does, she can't help her amused smile. "Fair enough," she says, "Go ahead, Joe."

"Do you remember what I said about being Steve's grandmother?"

"Yes, of course."

"Perhaps now is one of those moments where being a grandmother is more important than being a queen. His Highness does not ask for much, and he is not the kind to ask more than once, even if he really wants something. I imagine it took a significant amount of courage to ask you to teach him in the first place."

"Are you suggesting that I...I risk making a fool of myself for all to see?" Clarisse asks.

"I am suggesting you spend time with your grandson, who asks very little of you because he does not believe he can ask for anything."

Clarisse is silent a moment, letting Joe's words process and settle in her brain. Finally, she sighs and gestures to the papers on her desk. "I have work to complete," she says.

"Your Majesty, editing these proposals was on your schedule two weeks from now. You are ahead of your work. A break would not be unreasonable or unwarranted."

Well, when he puts it like that.

Clarisse sighs, leans back in her chair, and looks up at Joe. He's still staring at the door, giving no indication that he feels her eyes on him, but she knows he does. "Have a groundskeeper retrieve bikes and safety gear and meet us in the garden," she says, standing from her chair and bracing herself to look like an utter fool.

Her apprehension fades away fifteen minutes later. It can't hold last when she sees Steve's surprised and delighted expression at her presence. As she helps him put on knee and elbow pads, shows him how to pull the helmet's strap tight, and holds the bike steady as he sits on it, Clarisse decides a little foolishness is perfectly fine (necessary, even) if it will keep the smile on Steve's face.

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Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added to future parts!)

@y4r3luv, @potato-of-the-lord,

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

i don’t need wings to help me fly, pt. 1

Steve still vividly remembers the day his grandmother had flown in to Indianapolis when he’d turned sixteen years old. He’d never met her before but his constantly-traveling parents weren’t around, so he’d been tasked with airport duty and delivering his grandmother to the best hotel in the city.

His grandmother had turned up her nose and sniffed the minute she’d walked off the plane in head-to-toe pink Chanel.

“Your parents let you live here?” She’d asked in a posh British accent, not a single hair out of place even after an 11 hour flight from Europe.

“Oh, we don’t live in the city,” Steve had told her, smiling and taking her bags from her diamond-encrusted hands. “We live an hour away from here.”

His grandmother had done a double-take at that. “You don’t even live in the city?” She’d sounded so appalled as Steve led her through the airport, her eyes widening as they’d passed the food court and she saw the McDonalds and the Dunkin Donuts. “Is this what you eat here?” She peered at someone’s tray as they’d passed with their Big Mac.

All Steve could do was laugh and accept his grandmother’s invitation to eat dinner with her in her penthouse suite at the hotel, where she’d hired a private chef for her week-long stay in the city. It was actually more of a command than an invitation, anyway.

That night, Steve had laughed as his grandmother had told him he was the Crown Prince of Genovia.

“Shut up,” Steve had laughed, dropping his fork with a clatter on the fancy porcelain of his plate.

“Shut up?” His grandmother had repeated, sounding aghast.

Steve shook his head. “No, I mean, like. Stop pulling my leg. That’s very funny, grandma.”

“I’m not joking, Steven. You are Steven Pierre Harrington Renaldi, Prince of Genovia.”

“Grandma,” Steve had said, still smiling. “I couldn’t even tell you where Genovia is on a map.”

And the rest had, as they say, been history. There had been a few bumps in the road and he’d almost abdicated his throne once or twice, but after spending every summer in Genovia for the past five years, he’d come to love his country and its people. Now, with his twenty-first birthday just one week away, he’s finally moving to Genovia’s Royal Palace full time.

When he’s brought into the palace from the private royal airport, he’s told that his grandmother is in a meeting with representatives from Genovia’s parliament. Since Steve hasn’t been crowned king yet, he’s technically not allowed to sit in on those types of meetings, but when he’d been exploring the palace when he was 17, he’d found a passage that ran directly behind his grandmother’s public state rooms where she met with foreign dignitaries and domestic politicians. After being delivered to his room by palace staff, Steve quickly changed from his airplane clothes and made his way to the passage. As he unlocked the tiny gate that would allow him to see and hear what was happening in the room, he hears his grandmother’s raised voice.

“You cannot possibly be serious!” She says loudly and it’s the first time Steve has ever heard his grandmother come close to yelling. “That piece of legislation is absolutely archaic!”

“Archaic though it may be, it still exists,” the man across from where his grandmother sits says smugly. Steve does not like the condescending way the man looks at his grandmother.

“We’ve never enforced the law before,” his grandmother insists.

“We’ve never needed to,” Prime Minister Motaz concedes reluctantly from Steve’s grandmother’s side. Steve watches as she turns to him in shock.

“And we don’t need to now!” Steve thinks his grandmother might be coming close to slamming her fist down on the table.

“Steven is young. He has no experience,” another voice comes from someplace in the room that Steve can’t see. “It’s not a bad idea to give him as much support as he can possibly have.”

Steve goes hot all over, flushing with indignation. His throat burns. He wants to defend himself, but he’s technically not even supposed to know who’s in this meeting right now.

“And forcing him to marry would be our way of giving him support?” His grandmother sounds incredulous. Steve’s mouth goes dry. Marry? Him? He’d only just graduated college

“No one’s forcing anything,” the smug man across the table from his grandmother says gleefully. “He’s allowed to pick whoever he wants. As it happens, I have the perfect candidate in mind.”

“If you’re talking about your deadbeat, drop out of a son, then this meeting is officially over,” Steve can practically hear the way his grandmother rolls her eyes at the man. He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face as he hears her.

“I’ll have you know that Eddie has returned to school and is currently at the top of his class in the comparative literature program,” the man says haughtily.

“Oh, perfect, his ability to analyze Chaucer will be the perfect addition in running the country to Steve’s expertise in international relations and political science from his accelerated dual masters program,” Steve’s grandmother replies sarcastically.

Steve practically fist pumps in his hiding spot. His grandma is so badass.

“Your Majesty,” the prime minister cuts in reluctantly. “Now that Viscount Mabrey has brought the marriage clause to our attention we have no choice but to bring this to a parliamentary vote. The entire body is meeting tomorrow morning; we’ll cover it then. You are, of course, welcome to attend, but you mustn’t interfere with the vote.” He glances across the table at the smug man who is apparently Viscount Mabrey. “Either of you.”

Steve can tell that the meeting is clearly wrapping up and it’s only a matter of time before his grandmother comes looking for him, so he quickly latches the little window and hurriedly leaves his hiding spot behind. As he’s glancing down at his clothes, brushing dirt and cobwebs from the fabric, he bumps into someone as he rounds the corner of the main hall. The stranger grasps Steve’s elbows, keeping him upright. Steve raises his gaze and meets a set of intense, deeply brown eyes. Pretty, Steve thinks.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the stranger smiles and Steve registers the rest of his face. He takes in the dimples and the long curling dark hair falling around his shoulders. Pretty, Steve thinks again. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“No, uh—no worries, my fault,” Steve stammers out, before clearing his throat. “I’m Steve.”

The stranger tilts his head. “Yeah, man, I know.” His smile widens. “I’ll see you around, Prince Steven.” And then, without another word, he continues his way down the hall, in the direction Steve had just come from.

~*~

“I don’t get it,” Steve says to his grandmother, running a shaking hand through his hair. “I spent all this time studying and reading and interning and now they’re telling me I can’t be king unless I’m married? What kind of old-fashioned, ancient law is this?”

“Honestly,” his grandmother replies, “the law, sadly, is not even that old. It was ratified only 75 years ago. I’m not sure why, as it’s never been enforced until now. We’ll have to keep a keen eye on Viscount Mabrey and his no good son, though. They’ve got to be up to something.”

“Who’s his son?” Steve asks.

“Oh, I don’t remember his name. He’s completing a degree at Oxford—though between you and me, he’s dropped out twice already, so who knows about all that,” his grandmother waves a dismissive hand through the air.

“Grandma,” Steve says reproachfully, but even he can’t help but laugh a little. These people are trying to steal his crown, after all.

“Oh, Steven, I wanted your birthday week to be perfect for you,” his grandmother turns to him and grasps both his hands in hers, her eyes glassy. “I know this isn’t what you expected to come home to, but there’s nothing we can do until Parliament casts its vote in the morning. So let’s just focus on your birthday ball tonight, shall we?” She squeezes his hands in hers and then let’s them drop. “I’ve flown Paulo in to help you dress for the night.”

Steve groans. The last time he’d seen Paulo, the stylist had leaked his identity as the long lost prince of Genovia to the press. But he’s so good at what he does, his grandmother had apparently found it in herself to forgive him. And honestly, the leak had been somewhat of a blessing in disguise, one that allowed Steve to embrace both sides of himself: the small-town Indiana boy-next-door and the European royal with the world at his fingertips.

“Time to get ready for your ball, Steven,” his grandmother tells him happily.

~*~

Steve always feels strange when he has to dress up for a big event. He doesn’t hate it, exactly—he actually kind of likes it—but he still feels a little like he’s wearing a costume and he knows occasions like this are going to be even more frequent after his coronation in a month and a half.

Steve makes his way into the ballroom and let’s himself be announced to his guests. The ball has already started and he crosses the dance floor to greet his grandmother.

“Ah, Steven,” she greets him, kissing him on each of his cheeks. “You look beautiful, my darling.”

“Thank you, grandma,” Steve responds, glancing down at his tux. “You look gorgeous as ever, of course.” And she does. Her dark hair is curled and piled on top of her head, artfully arranged around her shining diamond and pearl tiara. Her deep violet gown flares out at the waist and brings out the emerald green of her eyes. She’s stunning and regal, all the things a queen should be. Steve’s going to have a hard time filling her shoes when he’s crowned king.

“Happy birthday, my love,” his grandmother says, hugging him to her. “Go have fun. Dance. Eat cake.” She gently pushes him toward the dance floor and Steve can’t help but laugh.

He wanders over toward the buffet table full of cupcakes and cookies, his giant green and gold birthday cake in the center. His mouth waters slightly just looking at the flowers of spun sugar decorating the top. He knows it’s chocolate with vanilla frosting, his favorite. He’s so intent on getting himself a piece of his birthday cake that he misses the person crossing his path.

Steve bumps directly into a hard body for the second time in one day. He’s usually not this clumsy. A large, ringed hand flies out to grasp his bicep, keeping him upright.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” a familiar deep voice says, laughter lacing the words. Steve stares up into now-familiar deep brown eyes.

“Oh, you—sorry,” Steve replies, smoothing his palms down the front of his tuxedo jacket. The stranger from earlier stands in front of him, wearing black on black on black, polished and pressed and just as beautiful as before. His curly hair is tied in a neat low ponytail and his mouth is curved into a smile, once again showing off the dimples Steve hasn’t stopped thinking about since this afternoon. His eyes are sparkling.

“Not at all,” the stranger shakes his head. “My fault entirely, Prince Steven.”

Steve clears his throat. “You don’t have to keep calling me that. You can call me Steve.” He’s glad he doesn’t stutter this time, his voice coming out smooth and clear, regaining some of his Indiana charm.

“Steve, then,” the stranger’s smile widens.

“And you are?” Steve prompts.

“And I… was just about to ask you to dance,”the stranger says, holding out his hand.

Steve is… completely charmed. Sure, he doesn’t know this man’s name, but he’s beautiful and charismatic and Steve only has a few friends his age here in Genovia, so he takes the stranger’s hand and let’s himself be led out on to the dance floor. The stranger must be in the high ranks of Genovian society to have even scored an invite to tonight’s ball and Steve racks his brain to remember if there were any sons of Parliament members he hadn’t met yet. He doesn’t think so.

Once they’re on the dance floor, Steve’s breath catches as a strong hand circles his waist, another entwining their fingers together. Steve feels himself being twirled around the dance floor and it’s dizzying for more reasons than one. The stranger is captivating, his gaze magnetic.

“Okay,” Steve says after a few minutes of dancing. “You have to tell me your name, man.”

The stranger smiles again. “You can call me Eddie.” The song they’ve been dancing to comes to an end. Eddie raises Steve’s hand to his lips, brushing his mouth across Steve’s knuckles. “I hope we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, Steve.” And then he turns and disappears into the crowd, leaving Steve dizzy and blushing on the dance floor.

[running-with-the-feels]

About your Royal!Kuai Liang AU; Now I'm just thinking about Hanzo who unknowingly married a prince JSJDJEJDJDJ

Someone who knows way too much: ...What do you have there?

Hanzo, practically draped over in what would've been the outfit of a royal consort or something, given by Kuai Liang (who also probably wasn't aware of it's use either): A smoothie.

On the other hand I'm just thinking if Hanzo ever realizes he starts thinking Kuai Liang's way out of his league and tries to distance away, but Kuai Liang isn't having any of it 👏👏

My favorite idea for this so far is that neither of them know that Kuai Liang is royalty (and technically a king even if he doesn't have a proper kingdom) until after he digs up some old Cryomancer jewelry in the Lin Kuei temple that just so happens to be symbols of the royal house, and gives some to Hanzo.

Neither of them realizes anything is strange about that until they go to Outworld to meet with Kitana Kahn for whatever reason and everyone starts bowing to Kuai Liang all of a sudden and calling him "Your highness" or "Your majesty" and he's just like:

Kuai Liang: Forgive my coarseness, but what the fuck?

A little bit of digging into outworld's records informs them that yes in fact Kuai Liang is a royal and the rightful heir to the throne of what was once the cryomancer's homeland and the few cryomancers that still live on that land Will be coming to find him and pledge their fealty the second they learn that any members of the royal house survived.

Kuai Liang basically goes and hides in the mountains of Arctika for a while and Hanzo blue screens as he processes the fact that he has technically married up. Kitana (unhelpfully) informs Hanzo that this makes him a Prince Consort and Hanzo has a bit of a crisis about it

[happyhauntt]

take this sinking boat (and point it home)

for @summerofbuddie week two: romcoms! aka buddie meets the wedding scene from princess diaries 2. buck / eddie • rated g • 3.3k words.

Eddie knows, now. The truth. That’s why he’s here, again. Ready to make those vows to another woman he doesn’t love. Making the same sacrifices in the name of honour and duty and family, the way it was drummed into him as a child. The stakes may be higher but it aches just the same. Don’t lose the only person you’ve ever really loved by making that mistake again. Shannon’s voice is a distant echo in his mind. Eddie watches as she dips her head in a small nod. Presses her lips to Christopher’s curls. Before she was his ex-wife, Shannon was his best friend, and she has always known him better than any other soul alive. It feels like a gift. It feels like permission. Eddie just needs to find the courage to accept it.

read on ao3.

[bella-rose29]

Anthony lockwood princess diaries au

that's the post

[pearlypairings]

✨Photocheer Princess Diaries AU ✨

THIS AU IS GENIUS EMPRESSS~

Okay, so....

I think Jonathan would have to be Mia/the secret heir to the Genovian throne. Our outcast emo boy with an eccentric single mom? Works perfectly here~ he'd get a little style makeover (a proper haircut at least lol)!

Chrissy would be his best friend's twin sister, whose been totally crushing on him in secret for years. He's completely oblivious to it because she seems like she'd only be into preppier things since she's in cheer and loves pop music. But she loves his down to earthness, his art, and the way he talks about the world needing change.

Jonathan would really struggle with the transition toward his royal lessons. Having lived on the line of poverty most of his life, the frivolity of these etiquette rules seem ridiculous and out-of-touch with how real people live. This tension would come to a head with his grandmother (Has to still be Julie Andrew bc she's an actual queen, sorry lol) and they'd argue over its relevance.

Joe, the security guard, would still be very paternal and protective of Jonathan. I think it would be actually lovely for him to finally have that male figurehead look out for him rather than always being the responsible one.

annnnd finally back to the romance, Jonathan would have had a minor crush on Carol. Once it gets out there that he's a prince, all the relationship dynamics would shift! He'd have to sacrifice time he'd normally spend with his bestfriend and Chrissy for lessons and events, but also be tempted when his own crush starts inviting him out to parties he's never been invited to before. Carol takes advantage of his position to kiss him on camera for her 15 minutes of fame, upsetting Chrissy and disappointing his grandmother. In the midst of deciding whether or not to renounce his title, he ultimately persuades his grandmother that their country needs royalty that can understand them and relate to them and they host a ball in his honor where he invites the Cunninghams with a sincere apology. Eventually Chrissy does show in a stunning gown where they dance together and escape to a little garden and have a confessional heart to heart about their feelings for each other:))

omg I'm so tempted to smoothen these details out empress....what have you done........

send me a ship and an au

[silverhallow]

Bridgerton drabble: A Princess Diaries AU

Part #1 Sophie’s Choice.

A belated birthday gift for @bridgertonbabe and @sophiebernadotte

Wasn’t life as a princess supposed to be fair? Or maybe not fair, that might be the wrong word. She was privileged, she knew that… even if she had only known she was a princess for a few short years.

Royalty led lives that were in the public eye, normally having been raised in that environment, but here she was… sitting in a country that she’d only known about for 4 years, listening to her grandmother scolding her for jeopardising the wedding that was to take place in a few days time, which would then lead onto her coronation a week after that and it was all Sophie could do not to throw up or cry because she knew her grandmother was right… she had ruined everything.

She’d always dreamt she’d marry for love, that she’d find a man that made her stomach fizz, give her butterflies, that would make her heart skip a beat and her palms sweaty and her feet pop when she kissed him. She wanted the kind of love her mother had told her about, that her mother had experienced but due to the unfairness of her situation, it was an arranged marriage or lose her throne. Those were her options.

A throne that until she turned 16, she had known nothing about.

She had been blissfully unaware that her father had been a Prince… Prince of a tiny country in the middle of the Italian and French sea. Her mother had kept it from her, taking that secret with her to her grave.

Her mother had died 10 weeks before Sophie’s 16th birthday, which was the day her entire life changed.

She’d been stopping with her best friend Kate Sharma and Sophie had been in English when the poshest woman Sophie had ever seen in her life came in and dropped the bombshell of all bombshells on her over a cup of tea…

Which she promptly spat all over her “grandmother's” face.

She was a princess.

A bastard princess but a princess nonetheless, and the only living descendant of the Gunningworth line.

Her father, Richard, had passed away 9 months earlier and to Sarah’s knowledge he had been childless.

It was only after discovering something in her late-husband’s writing desk, did she learn that there was in fact an heir.

Her.

Sophie was saving the country from being taken over by the Cavender’s. Their son Phillip had a terrible temper and an even worse reputation at just 17 years old and had once been rulers of their own lands until the people revolted and won back their lands and banished the Cavender’s but their royal blood was connected to Penwood and now it was Sophie, or the Cavender’s and Sarah was determined that her throne would not pass into their hands.

She had learned that Reginald had sent Esme away when she was pregnant with Sophie, he didn’t want a child out of wedlock and he certainly didn’t want the Crown Prince, only Heir to the Throne marrying a commoner and so she’d been paid off and shipped off back to England. He provided money monthly to keep Esme quiet and Esme had been promised that she and her unborn child would be left alone and the secret of Sophie’s birth went to the grave with her.

Reginald had known about Sophie and he had been working out how to tell his wife that they did in fact have an heir and where they could find her, and what had happened, his own guilt weighing in after he’d pressured Richard into a marriage with a woman that bore no children between them other than two step-children who could not inherit the throne but when Reginald died 3 months after Richard it had thrown a spanner in the works as he’d not gotten around to telling Sarah the truth.

Sophie was dumbfounded.

Sarah was Regent, as they had their heir but she was underage and she was able to prevent Cavender getting his hands on the crown.

Since Sophie was underage she would learn the role, but upon turning 20 Sophie was told she’d have to take over the throne, she would get 6 months post her 20th birthday to marry and be crowned Queen otherwise, Cavender would take over.

So Life changed.

Gone were the days she was invisible, where she could blend into the background with Kate, sitting laughing about Shakespere and just being a teenage girl to…

Being a Princess.

She stayed in school but Kate was almost glued to her side. She worked at her studies, she travelled back and forth between the countries as she learned.

Once she was 18, Sophie moved to Penwood and Kate and her family came with her, they’d been her family when she had no one else and Kate wanted to work with Sophie, for Sophie as part of her staff once she’d graduated from University.

And Sophie knew from the moment she moved to her new home that she wanted to be Queen, that she would do anything to be Queen. Her beautiful country that she was learning to love, the rich culture and history that was hers to protect and nourish and the more time she spent there, the more she got to know the people, the more she knew she wanted to be Queen.

So between her studies, her Queen lessons with her Grandmother and getting to know the country’s leaders, she was starting to look for a husband.

Not just any husband, she needed someone titled, not in line for their own throne, someone who understood her importance as Queen. Someone harmless, inoffensive, who would stand there by her side and be a pillar of strength and a symbol but would let Sophie lead.

She would be Queen, and she knew finding a husband would be hard but she had time… or so she’d assumed. She was only 18 after all, she had two years. How hard could it be?

From the moment the plane touched down, Sophie knew that whatever she’d thought her life was going to be like, nothing compared to the circus it was becoming

.

18 turned into 19 and Sophie had still not found someone that she wanted to marry, any male around her age that would be eligible was not interested in marriage, any man she met at a bar knew who she was and wanted a piece of her as a trophy.

She was to be Queen… Everyone knew that. “Your highness, you must know there isn’t a man on this planet who isn’t interested in marrying you, but it is finding the right person for you who will make your everyday life easier, who makes the mundane fun and who makes you smile” her Prime Minister Edmund Bridgerton had told her as the days got closer to her 20th birthday and she had still not found someone to be her husband, time was running out and she was getting desperate.

“That is all well and good my Lord but I have 6 months, we have 6 months to make this work or everything has been in vain” Sophie sighed during their weekly meeting. Sophie loved meeting her prime minister, They had joked on a number of occasions it was a shame that his title came with his position and didn’t transfer to his children since he had eight of them and the two eldest boys were a little older than Sophie and Kate, she’d yet to meet Benedict who was off travelling and studying and she got on well with Anthony, who was training to take over from Charlie as the Royal Household Chief of Security once Sophie ascended to the throne.

The little wrinkle there was Anthony was dating Kate. Kate was working up to the role of Chief of Staff within the palace and eventually they would run the palace between them and despite their prickly start, Sophie thought they were perfect for one another but it served as an almost daily reminder that she didn’t have that and she needed that. 6 months to fall in love, marry to become Queen…

“There are other ways around it, your grandmother is reluctant to bring it up because she knew how much you wanted to find someone the traditional way but there is always an arranged marriage, I am sure between Ms Gibbons, your grandmother and my wife Violet, they’ll be able to come up with a list of possibilities for you. Aim for friendship first, it worked for your grandmother… love everything else, it is lovely but friendship and companionship will hold you in just as good a stead” Edmund explained

“That’s easy for you to say, you married the love of your live and have 8 children” Sophie replied flippantly but sighed “but I shall think about it, it is likely to be the only option”

“Speaking of my children…” Edmund grinned and Sophie rolled her eyes

“Smooth… what are they after this time?”

“It’s nothing actually just Benedict is back from his travels eventually this weekend after being away for the last two years studying and he is on the last portfolio for his masters and I was wondering if perhaps as a small favour we could add him to your official photographers list up to the coronation and allow him to capture some more… candid photos of the next few months”

“Why not, some candid ones will be lovely I guess after all the formal things…” Sophie said “and i’ll make sure there is a ticket to my 20th birthday party for him as well, if he is back in time that is, it would be nice to meet another of your ridiculous brood. but I will give some thought to your suggestion, having some of those possible bachelors come to the party and meet them…” Sophie sighed.

But after the events of her 20th birthday, Sophie had known it was time.

The only person she’d met the night of her birthday party, the only person she’d felt a connection with had been someone she knew she had no chance with.

She’d been walking through the party, trying to get away from Prince Hans and his incessant staring, as well as Lady Rosamund who was making snide quiet remarks about how it should be her that was going to be queen when Sophie had run straight into a stranger stomping straight on his foot, the most handsome stranger she’d ever met.

It was only after she’d danced and flirted with him and spoke to Kate, did she realise that it was Benedict Bridgerton and it had broken her heart almost instantly.

She’d assumed he was one of the many suitors her grandmother had invited for to meet so to realise who he was, that he was untitled, he was, despite being the son of a Lord, not someone Sophie could ever hope to get to know on a more intimate and romantic level… she knew based on the rules that had been set out for her future husband, it was a no go.

So the morning after her party, she’d called Kate, her grandmother, Ann Gibbons the current chief of staff and Mary and said “it’s time”

A week later she was sitting in the palace movie room with the screens up, profiles up as she looked through all the eligible bachelors that would be interested in an arranged marriage.

Two hours it had taken, going through picture after picture before Sophie had spotted one.

Yes he was a second son but he fit the bill where no one else did. He was the second son of a Duke. His older brother was already married and had twins, their line was secure, he was a Sir. He had a title, a ceremonial one but all the same…

Sir Phillip Crane was everything that Sophie had been looking for.

He was the same age as she was, he was academic, he was cute. He was someone that Sophie could see herself being at least friends with…

It was a start.

And it had turned out Phillip was everything that Sophie could have hoped for. He was kind, he was funny and they seemed to have a lot in common and Sophie knew she’d made the best possible choice…

Or she would have thought so if it wasn’t for Benedict being everywhere she went.

She’d forgotten about her agreement with the Prime Minister and being Anthony’s brother, and he seemed to get on really well with Kate. he was always there.

The torment Sophie felt was horrible, she felt attracted to Benedict in a way she knew she’d never be attracted to Phillip but she knew that she could never be with Benedict and have the life she so desperately wanted.

She wanted to be Queen, she wanted to rule this country that she’d learned so much about, that she was so passionate about and she was close to mucking it all up.

Two weeks before the wedding it all came to a head when during the summer party, Sophie had slipped away from Phillip, leaving him with Kate and Benedict’s sister Eloise as she wanted to get out of her head. Cavender’s son had been lurking and making lurid remarks about her and she just wanted 5 minutes.

She’d given her ladies maids the slip, and was just sitting on the edge of the fountain, trying not to hyperventilate.

She’d not seen Benedict at all during the party, he was employed during these events to take photos as part of her agreement with his father and she knew that it was the last thing she needed. Whilst she desperately craved him to soothe her frayed nerves, she knew being around him was making it worse.

They’d had many a spirited debate about Bryon, about poetry and art and she always seemed to know when he appeared, her skin tingled and pricked but he knew as well as she did, that whatever there was between them, wasn’t possible.

With the way the rules of the country where, fate was destined to keep them apart.

But that day… he’d caught her unaware, they’d given into a moment of weakness and kissed.

It was only when Sophie’s beloved dog Bernie, had come running through the fence with voices behind him, that they’d separated and in their shock at nearly being caught, they had tumbled into the fountain.

It had been the start of her downfall.

She’d confined Kate how she felt about Benedict, how she wished things could be different and she knew that Benedict had felt the same and how she couldn’t have him around her anymore because it was breaking her heart.

Benedict had agreed to step away, to leave his position because he knew the country needed Sophie more than he did and he would never have forgiven himself to do anything that would have ruined her dream to be Queen,

But he’d asked if he could see her one last time before he left, before he walked away and Sophie would marry Phillip and Sophie had agreed as long as no one found out.

But someone had found out. Someone had overheard and warned the press that if someone followed the Prime Minister’s son… they would find a scandal.

And whilst it wasn’t as big of a scandal as it could have been, Sophie and Benedict had just talked, shared a kiss or two, they’d fallen asleep under a tree in the grounds of the castle and it was upon waking that they’d been spotted…

And Sophie was sure her life was going to fall apart.

Sarah yelled at her for over an hour about it, about how she should not be sneaking out and despite the fact she knew how her granddaughter felt about him, she could see how devastated Sophie was about the choice.

Heart or country.

It was a choice she’d known all too well but Sophie knew what she wanted.

What was required of her… it was just a matter of if Phillip would still want to marry her.

“Phillip wait, please! Let me explain! Nothing happened” Sophie said as she ran after Phillip a few hours later after he’d arrived at the palace so they could talk.

“Yes but you went Sophie, you still went didn’t you?” he replied, his voice was strangely calm and not angry and Sophie wasn’t sure if she’d rather he’d been angry or not “I don’t think you understand… despite my geekiness as the press back home call it, I am an extremely eligible bachelor” he said, though Sophie could tell he cringed a bit at the words, knowing he didn’t like to big himself in that way. “I really am. I’ve got plenty of friends, lots of lovely… erm women friends” he said gesturing as they looked at one another

“But i… I still think marriage is a good idea.” he said and Sophie looked up at him in disbelief as Phillip’s face softened as they looked at one another,

“Sophie…” he said, before taking a step forward, placing his hands on either side of her face and kissing her.

It was the first time they’d properly kissed, it had been a brief kiss on the lips when they’d gotten engaged, the same on the balcony when they announced their engagement several weeks ago and as kisses went…

It was the most awkward kiss either of them had ever experienced.

It was like kissing a sibling. It was so awkward Sophie was sure the entire world stopped moving and she could hear the cows in the field several miles away Mooing…

Eventually Phillip pulled away and Sophie with her eyes still shut brought her hand to her lip to almost wipe the kiss off as she had Phillip looked at one another again

“So?” he asked “anything?” already anticipating the answer.

“It was lovely… just… there was no…” Sophie said

“Spark?” they said at the same time and Sophie groaned as she knew what the right thing to do was.

“What are we going to do?” Sophie said her voice breaking a little as she felt herself close to tears. The wedding was a few days away, she’d come this far and now she’d thrown it all away.

Phillip sighed and took a step forward putting an arm around Sophie’s waist, rolling his eyes as the security guards shovelled up the stairs behind them

“No privacy…” Sophie grumbled.

“Sophie… you chose me… and I accepted” he said pressing an almost brotherly kiss on her head “I accepted and so we’re going to stand up in the church next week and say “I do” and become man and wife… and then you’re going to be crowned Queen of Penwood and make the most amazing Queen in the history of this great country” he said tenderly, honestly and a smile on his face that made Sophie feel like perhaps everything could be okay.

“Thank you” she whispered as she kissed his cheek as she smiled back at him.

This was it. Her choice had been made. Country and Duty over her heart. Phillip was a good man and she could do a lot worse…

[touchoffleece]

Supergirl Mayhem 2024 Entry

[steddieas-shegoes]

A THOUGHT HAS JUST HIT ME MID SENTENCE ON MY PAPER

PRINCESS DIARIES STEDDIE ???

ANYONE??? EVERYONE??? SOMEBODY!!!!

EDIT: @delta-piscium sent the link for one that’s based on princess diaries 2!!!! AND APPARENTLY @henderdads inspired it???? So anyways I’ve put away my computer and I’m going to read this right now immediately

[libraryofgage]

The Prince and the Metalhead

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One Queen Clarisse One (you're here!)

Despite the title, this series will focus a little more on Steve growing up in Genovia for the first few parts. That being said, there will be Steddie because this whole thing was inspired by my desire to write a modern royalty AU.

So, ya know, it's coming lol

For now, just enjoy Steve being raised by our favorite queen.

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

------

Clarisse stares at the two-story house from the driveway. It looks incredibly...American. It's American in a way that Amelia's home and city aren't. This house is the Ideal American Home, the kind people are told is the goal in life, the kind with no personality and no distinguishing features compared to other houses on its street. It's the kind of house she'd never see in Genovia, and she's glad for it.

"Your Majesty," Joe says, pulling her attention from the house to her driver. "If you are nervous, may I suggest returning another day?"

She knows exactly what he's doing. It still works. She still pulls herself together, rolls her shoulders back, and raises her chin. "A queen is never nervous. She is simply calculating her approach."

With that, she opens the door and gracefully (the kind of grace that comes with years of practice) steps out of the car. She smooths down her clothes, takes one more deep breath, and strides to the front door. Joe is just a step behind her, always a step behind her, as she rings the doorbell and waits.

A few moments pass, the blinds in the window next to the door shift, and then the door is pulled open. A young boy, certainly no more than ten, stands before her, looking nervously between Clarisse and Joe.

And could you blame Steve? The only visitors he gets when his parents are gone are secretaries that sweep into the home, make sure he's alive, and leave right after. Nobody rings the doorbell, nobody knocks, and nobody knows he's alone in the big house, just like his parents told him it should be.

"Hello," the lady says, her accent vaguely European and similar to his father's. "Are you Steve Harrington?"

If she knows his name, maybe she's been sent by his parents. She looks fancy enough, and the guy with her looks scary enough. Steve grips the door tighter and nods once. "Yes, ma'am," he says, his voice soft and barely a whisper so he doesn't upset her.

"Good. Is your father home?"

"No, ma'am."

That makes her pause, her lips tugging down in a frown, and Steve wonders if he's already failed whatever test this must be. His father will give them sometimes, in the rare moments he's home, and it's always to measure how polite Steve his, how proper, how cultured. This must be a new kind of test, a way for his father to further measure him. He gathers himself, takes a subtle breath, and asks, "Would you like to come in?"

"You don't know who we are," the man suddenly says. "Why are you inviting us in?"

Oh. He's failing this test already. Steve bites his lip, ducking his head. "It's polite to invite people in," he says. "But, um, could you tell me your names first?"

He glances up to see that frown on the lady's face deepen, and his stomach starts to churn. "Yes, of course," she says, clearing her throat before continuing, "I am Clarisse Renaldi, and this is Joe."

Steve looks between the two of them before slowly nodding. "Please, come in," he says, holding the door open. The two adults are hesitant but enter the home anyway, watching Steve as he shuts the door silently and locks it. "This way, please."

He leads them to the living room, looks at the books and papers spread on the coffee table, and blushes. "I'm sorry for the mess," he says, quickly sweeping everything off the coffee table and holding it close to his chest. "I was doing homework and didn't expect visitors. Please, sit. I'll get some tea."

With that, he turns on his heel and hurries out of the living room. He presses his back against the wall, eyes closed and heart racing as he listens to the man and woman talk. "He's very polite," the woman says, sounding pleased and surprised.

"Too polite," the man replies, "What ten year old says things like expecting visitors and offers to make tea?"

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat and hurries to the kitchen. He puts his papers and books on the small table there, climbs the stool in front of the sink to fill a kettle with water, and then climbs the stool in front of the stove to place it down. He turns on the burner, watching the flames jump before getting cups, a teapot, tea leaves, and a tray to place it all on.

In total, the process from heating the water to pouring it over the leaves in the pot and carrying that to the living room is no more than eight minutes. It still feels like an eternity, though, when Steve knows each second is a mark against him. "I'm sorry for making you wait," he says as he enters the living room, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. He pours a cup for the woman first, then the man, and then himself, careful not to spill a drop.

"Did you make this yourself?" the woman asks, picking up her teacup and taking a polite sip.

When Steve nods, he gets a tiny smile in return. And then the man says, "Aren't you a little young to do these things?"

Steve has been taught how to answer questions like this, ones that imply his parents aren’t doing enough to raise him. He picks up his teacup, holding it in his hands and letting the warmth transfer to his palms. “I like making tea,” he says, keeping his voice steady, “so Mother taught me how to use the stove safely.”

Joe looks ready to say more, but Clarisse clears her throat. He shuts his mouth, picking up his own cup just to do something. “When should we expect your father, Steve?” Clarisse asks, placing her teacup back on its plate. She’s seated on the edge of the couch, her ankles tucked together so her legs are at a slant and her back perfectly straight. 

He can’t lie. If they stay, they’ll know he’s lying when his father doesn’t return. Maybe they just want to see his father, and Steve can let them think his mother will be home soon and convince them to leave before she is. He decides this is a good plan and says the extremely familiar words, “He’s away on a business trip.”

That earns him a frown, but before he can try to fix his mistake, Clarisse nods once and asks, “What about your mother, then?”

Steve tenses, dropping his gaze to his teacup and scrambling to find an answer. He swallows around the nervous lump in his throat, takes a sip of his tea, and feels his stomach twist when he still doesn’t have anything to say in response. 

“How long have your parents been gone?” Joe asks. 

The question pierces through him so harshly that Steve’s hands twitch, tea splashing over the edges of the cup and onto his fingers. He hisses at the temperature, quickly setting the cup down and getting a tissue to wipe the tea away. 

“What do you mean gone?” Clarisse asks.

“There are no cars in the driveway and no adult shoes by the door. We passed the kitchen on the way here, and only one set of dishes is in the drying rack. Stools have been placed wherever a child might need to reach something too high for them otherwise. Dust is on the shelf with adult books, but the smaller shelf with movies appropriate for children is clean, implying regular use. Finally, my men have informed me that Mr. and Mrs. Harrington boarded a plane headed for Hong Kong from London.”

Steve’s eyes widen as Joe speaks, his stomach twisting ever tighter with each word. When Clarisse looks back at him, his eyes begin to sting and he looks down at his lap. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice quiet as he clenches the hem of his shirt. 

“What on Earth are you apologizing for?” Clarisse asks, sounding so insulted that Steve shrinks in on himself. “You are not to blame for your parents’ incompetence and negligence. Of all the things your father has done, abandoning you to fend for yourself is unforgivable.”

Oh. She’s…angry for him? Steve looks up, meeting Clarisse’s eyes and wondering why she cares. And then, because he thinks she can’t possibly be any angrier, he takes a risk by asking, “Why are you here?”

Clarisse pauses, blinks twice, and then gathers herself. Her shoulders relax some, but her back remains straight. “I am Clarisse Renaldi, Queen of Genovia, and your grandmother.”

Steve stares at her, glances at Joe to see if this is some kind of joke, and then looks back when all he gets in return is a blank stare. “My…grandmother?” he asks, his voice quiet.

“Yes. Your father, Richard Harrington, is my son. He was…well, he involved himself in troublesome schemes and had to leave Genovia and the line of succession. We keep tabs on him, of course, but all contact is otherwise restricted.”

None of that surprises Steve. He’s heard his father complaining when he has a bit too much whiskey, muttering under his breath about betrayal and being forced from his home and that it was only a few million he took. 

“I…still don’t know why you’re here.”

“Yes, well, the Crown Prince of Genovia has recently passed, and you are next in the line of succession. So, I traveled here to meet you and bring you back to Genovia for a proper education befitting a Crown Prince.”

Steve is staring at his lap again, his mind turning. So much information has been given to him, and he can only focus on the part that makes his heart speed up with hesitant hope. “Would…would my parents go with us?” he asks.

“Your father is still barred from Genovia. Your mother is welcome, though.”

“Does she have to go with us?”

He looks up in time to see Clarisse pause, tilting her head as she considers him for a moment. “No, Steve, neither of your parents must accompany us,” she says.

“Will I ever be alone?”

“The royal family employs upwards of 300 staff to keep the palace running smoothly,” Joe says, nodding once to confirm that number when Steve gives him an incredulous look. 

“Members of staff will be assigned to you as well,” Clarisse adds, smiling softly when Steve returns his attention to her. “At least three maids, several private tutors, at least one playmate for social development, and a personal team of security to keep you safe.”

Something lifts from Steve’s shoulders then. He’s not stupid. He knows his parents aren’t good. He learned that last year when he realized that other kids’ parents picked them up from school and gave them hugs and surprised them with pizza nights and just smiled at them. Steve looked at those parents, thought of his own, and quietly accepted that they either sucked or he just hasn’t figured out what will make them love him yet.

A tiny part of him knows that nothing will.

“Will you be my new mother, then?” Steve asks.

He watches Clarisse’s surprised expression morph into something unsure. “I will certainly be taking on a parental role,” she says, the words slow.

Steve looks down again, trying to ignore the disappointment that stirs in him when he realizes she’s just trying to spare his feelings. She won’t be a mother; she’ll be like his teacher. She’ll be someone who makes sure he learns what he should, eats when he should, and passes him along to the appropriate person when there’s a problem. 

Still, she’s nicer than his own parents, and Steve won’t be alone if he goes to Genovia. If nothing else, it will be better than this empty house and his absent parents. “If I packed right now, can we leave?” he asks.

When Clarisse agrees, Steve excuses himself and goes to his room. 

Once he’s out of sight, Clarisse looks at Joe and says, “He’s a very mature child.”

“He shouldn’t be.”

Clarisse nods once in agreement, looking down at the teapot in front of them and wondering if Steve has ever burned himself on it. “I believe he’ll take to being royalty well,” she says.

When she looks up, Joe is frowning. “If I may speak freely, Your Majesty?” he asks. When Clarisse nods, he clears his throat. “Before he can be royalty, he needs to be a child. For his own good, he needs a parent, not someone taking on a parental role. You may not be his mother, Your Majesty, but you are his grandmother. You have the ability to give him the unconditional care and love he’s been deprived of so far.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Clarisse admits, frowning slightly in thought. “I just…”

“You are worried he will be like his father.”

“Yes.”

“He is not his father. You cannot project the wrongdoings of Richard onto Steve. It is unfair to him and you. He deserves a fresh start, one that is not burdened by his father.”

“I will think on it,” Clarisse says, already knowing she’s going to do as Joe has suggested. “In the meantime, look into parenting books. If nothing else, Steve’s maids and tutors can review their contents as he grows.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

--------------

Genovia is small, but the palace is huge. It towers over Steve like something out of a Disney movie, and he almost falls behind during the brief tour through its halls. He manages to catch up, though, meeting Clarisse’s stride just in time for her to gesture at a set of double-doors and say, “Beyond these will be your rooms.”

“Rooms?”

“Yes, more than one,” Clarisse says, smiling down at Steve as she leads him past the doors and into a sitting room. A group of people are already gathered there. Most of them are adults, but a few younger children are playing with a Lego set in the corner and a girl and boy his age are standing with the adults. “These are your personal staff members.”

Before Steve can say anything, one of the women steps forward, her smile warm and her face framed by her brown hair. “It’s nice to meet you, Your Highness. My name is Joyce. I’ll coordinate your schedule and make sure your rooms are taken care of. My husband, Jim, will be the head of your security team, and my eldest son, Jonathan, will be one of your playmates,” she says, pointing to her husband and then the boy his age.

“Feel free to call me Hopper, Your Highness,” her husband says.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jonathan adds, smiling politely in a way that Steve painfully understands as fake and forced.

Joyce steps back, and a black woman steps forward. “My name is Sue. I’ll be in charge of your education. That means I’ll be arranging your tutors, making sure your lessons match what a child your age should be learning, and overseeing your Royal Education with Her Majesty. My husband, Charles, will be your science tutor.”

Steve glances at Charles when he waves and nods in greeting. His smile, at least, seems more genuine than Jonathan’s was, and Sue is so straightforward that Steve finds it refreshing. 

The last woman steps forward. She’s a little heavier than the other two, and she’s wearing an apron that has stains smeared across it. “Wonderful to meet you, Your Highness. I’m Claudia. I’ll be in charge of your diet and medical needs. If you’re allergic to anything or just plain hate certain foods, let me know.”

She steps back, leaving only the young girl. With a grin, she moves to stand in front of Steve and holds her hand out. “Name’s Robin,” she says, “I’m supposed to be your friend, but Her Majesty and I’ve got an agreement that I can ditch you if you suck. If I stick around, I’ll be trained by Hopper to be your personal guard.”

It’s so sudden and blunt that Steve can’t stop his grin as he takes Robin’s hand and shakes once. “To make things fair,” he says, “I should get to ditch you, too.”

Her eyes light up, and Steve thinks he’s done something right, which is an odd but welcome feeling. She lets go of his hand but stays by his side, standing close enough that their shoulders brush as Clarisse gestures for Joyce to take over the tour. He’s introduced to the children playing with Legos first, bombarded with their names (Dustin, Will, El, Lucas, and Erica) and which parents they belong to, before moving on to the rooms. 

In total, he has five: the sitting room, a classroom, a small library, an empty room that he can do whatever he’d like with, and his bedroom. The bedroom has its own bathroom with a shower attached, but there are extra bathrooms in the other rooms, too. He’d count his closet as another room entirely, but he’s not ready to admit he really has six rooms. 

He’s still too overwhelmed by the giant bed and the rooms that all belong to him and this group of people that will always be around him. He turns to Clarisse, ready to thank her, when she smiles at him and says, “There is one more thing.”

Something else? There’s more? What more could there possibly be? What else could he be given? Steve watches as she walks to the door that leads into the bathroom, steps inside, and comes back out holding something that squirms slightly in her arms. 

She quickly deposits the thing in Steve’s arms, and he stares wide-eyed at the Rottweiler puppy that starts sniffing at his hands and neck. “What?” he asks.

“She’s yours, Steve. Rottweilers are very loyal dogs, so she’ll stay by your side. They’re also loyal and protective. Once she’s grown, she’ll keep you safe, too.”

“What am I then, chopped liver?” Robin asks, pouting slightly as she looks at the dog. She leans closer to it and yelps when she gets licked. 

Steve can’t help laughing, holding the dog closer to his chest. “Does she have a name?” he asks.

“Yeah! It’s Dart!”

Steve looks over his shoulder at Dustin, meeting his curly hair and slightly gummy smile. Next to him, Claudia flushes slightly and hurriedly says, “You don’t need to listen to him, Your Highness. You can name her whatever you’d like.”

“No, I think Dart is good,” Steve replies, looking down at the dog and gently scratching behind her ears. She perks up, her entire body wiggling with excitement, and Steve feels something hopeful and optimistic settle in his chest.

--------

Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added to future parts!)

@y4r3luv

[wlwinry]

woooo zinejam everyone say woo zinejam woo!!!!! i finally get to share the princess diaries thistlecaster au oneshot and i am. so happy. anyways go check out the bundle its great. its so cool so many amazing people worked on so many amazing projects and we're donating to the United Nations' Occupied Palestinian Territory Humanitarian Fund this year! highly recommend y'all explore some amazing fanwork this fine monday evening

Crown Prince of Dunefort Gorgug Thistlespring has a lot to worry about before his coronation as king: his upcoming wedding to someone that he's not in love with, the constant attempts of the council to prove that he isn't ready for the throne, the weight of Roz's expectations and the overbearing presence of his adoptive parents. Right now, though, the main threat to all of that is his total inability to shoot an arrow through a hoop. The guy he absolutely, one hundred percent should not be in love with has some helpful advice. ... It's the archery scene from the Princess Diaries 2, but with thistlecaster!

please read and comment also bc i am. starved for comments and positive feedback <3 ily all

[whistledownbad]

Okay but see now I really am thinking about a Princess Diaries AU.

Pen = Mia

Eloise = Lilly

Michael = Colin

Clarisse = QC

Joe = Lady D

Lana = Cressida

Josh = Debling

Helen = Portia

Stick the rest of the siblings in there somewhere and we *might* have a story with some modifications?

[rippeanuts1950-2000]

nuzi princess diaries au(I prefer the book, so we’re going book version baby! but also not exactly like the books)

Uzi: Mia, obviously. But Uzi is like WAY more pissed about being a princess than Mia was

Khan: Helen(Mia’s mom) but he’s still not over Nori unlike Helen when it comes to Phillipe. Also he doesn’t date Uzi’s algebra teacher and he is an artist who does cool designs with doors

Nori: Phillipe. She’s the current ruler of Copper-9 and is amazing at her job. The country would be in shambles without her. And she’s still in love with khan

Alice: Grandmere, but on top of princess lessons she’s teaching Uzi to become a mechanic for some odd reason. And she doesn’t have a hairless toy poodle, she has her son Beau who is Uzi’s age but doesn’t want to rule and just wants to be a mechanic so Alice let’s him not be a prince

N: Michael, but he’s still V’s brother and they both have to deal with a body guard. I can already hear Uzi say he only is nice to her because she’s his twin sister’s friend

Lizzy and Thad: They’d both be Lilly but Thad would be Lilly’s positive traits and Lizzy would be Lilly’s negative traits(she’d still be an okay friend to Uzi tho)

Doll: Boris but Uzi wouldn’t think she was a loser, just annoying by constantly playing the violin in gifted and talented

V: Tina Hakim Baba. She keeps her mansion personality but still can be her after the mansion self when she needs to be

J: Lana. That’s the only person i can see her as

Chad: Josh Richter, idk someone needed to be him

This would not leave my mind, and now on top of all the wips I currently have, I want to write this. Let me know if I should.

[arsoneywrites]

so you remember that spirk royalty au i’ve been working on forever? chapter two now up AND i have a writing sideblog now! look at me!

[littlespoonevan]

I mean you’ve already started the Buddie Romcom Cinematic Universe, it would be rude nOT to make a pretty table to cross off 😏

aksldjfhdsa the gif i'm yelling lmao

okay so i can cross off:

While Your Were Sleeping

Coyote Ugly

Practical Magic

and i need to include:

Miss Congeniality

Hercules

The Fall Guy

any others????? 👀👀