#“[she's] sorry the side i voted for lost”

[contortionyx]

Don't forget, he got the ball rolling on the concentration camps at the southern border

[mrsstarkey1]

getting rafe hooked on dress to impress

my fav thing i’ve ever written i can’t even lie

word count: 1.2k

obx masterlist

you yawned loudly and abnoxiously as you walked into rafe’s bedroom. you kicked your shoes off, grabbing one of rafe’s t-shirts from his drawer, changing out of your uncomfortable clothes. “didn’t think you were coming back, it’s late as fuck.” rafe said, looking at you oddly as he sat up on the bed against the headboard.

“longest fucking day of my life. need to unwind.”

rafe smirked, reaching his whole body over the bed to grab your forearm. "like the sound of that," he mumbles.

you let yourself move toward him, but you groan, “not like that.” rafe momentarily pouts, but doesn’t let go of your arm. in fact, he pulls you closer onto the bed with him urging you to cuddle up into him.

he snakes his arm around you, soft fingers tracing circles into your side. "wanna talk about it?"

you yawn and shake your head, "nah, can we just watch a movie or something?"

rafe nods, grabbing the TV remote from the nightstand. "you don't wanna watch some chick-flick do you?" he asks, grimacing already.

you sigh dramatically, “i guess not. fast and furious?”

rafe obligies, satisfied with your suggestion. you get comfortable on the bed, your head rested on rafe's shoulder and your phone rested on his chest as you scroll through tiktok.

about 20 minutes later, you see a video about the new halloween update on dress to impress and gasp before you can stop yourself. rafe jumps slightly, eyes wide. “jesus christ, what’s wrong?”

"sorry, nothing," you grin apologetically, "can I borrow your laptop though?"

he looks at you like you've lost your mind, but he still grabs his macbook from the nightstand, handing it over to you. you sit up excitedly, leaning up against the headboard.

you open the laptop and sign into your roblox account, side eyeing rafe as he gives you an odd look. "the fuck are you doing?"

"playing a game," you respond innocently.

he raises his eyebrows, "roblox? wheezie used to play that shit.. when she was 8," he says, judging you hardcore.

you glare at him, "you don't understand," you sigh. "just watch me play, it's genuinely fun."

he watches you click on dress to impress, making a disgusted face. "yeah I can't defend you on this one," he says and you shove his shoulder.

"well have you ever played dress to impress?" you ask him.

"obviously not," he says, his sassy side on full display.

"well don't judge then. just watch and i'll let you play a round when i'm done," you say with a smile, patting his cheek softly.

"hell nah," he says, directing his attention back to the movie.

you shake your head, giving up on getting him to play. you start a round, looking around at all the new pieces they added. the theme is holiday for your first round, so of course you do halloween.

you notice rafe's eyes on the computer screen as his curiosity clearly starts to creep back in despite himself. he watches as you piece together combination of a witch hat, spiderweb dress, and dark boots.

“what even is this shit?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly intrigued.

you grin, not taking your eyes off the screen since you only have a minute left. “you compete with other people to make the best outfit based on a theme. you'd be pretty good at it, you've got great style," you say, trying to persuade him.

he gives you a look, shaking his head, "sounds dumb as fuck," he says, and you just laugh. he's silent for a moment before turning slightly to have a better view of the screen, "so what you just like... dress them up and shit?"

you nod, watching the time run out. "yes, then everyone votes on each outfit and the top 3 get on the podium. see," you point to the screen, "the voting's starting now."

an outfit that's completely off theme struts down the runway and you grimace, "see like that one's ugly as fuck so i give it a 1. oooh look, this ones mine," you say with a proud smile. "doesn't she look great?"

rafe shrugs, "i guess."

you ended up getting third place, losing to two terrible outfits. you curse under your breath, before turning to him. “you wanna try a round?” you smile, looking up at him.

rafe scoffs, glancing back at the movie, but curiosity gets the better of him. “alright, fine, hand it over.” he takes the laptop.

"okay the theme is beach day," you tell him.

he hums in response, looking around at the clothes aimlessly. "rafe, you gotta pick something that actually matches,” you say, stifling a laugh as he pairs a yellow bikini top with neon green shorts.

"shh, I have a vision," he says, dismissing your words. "wait why the fuck doesn't she have a face?"

"you gotta go to the makeup and hair room, over there," you point at the screen.

he scrolls through the makeup options, finally decided on one. "mhm, she bad ain't she?" you chuckle, knowing rafe is secretly loving this.

time runs out just as he adds the coconut drink, and you see him watching the screen eagerly, waiting for the voting to end. one girl dressed in long pants and a jacket walks out and he looks over at you, disgusted, "this bitch didn't even look at the theme." all you can do is laugh and nod your head in agreement.

when rafe places second, he smirks, looking way too pleased with himself. "ha," he says, "i did better than you."

you roll your eyes. "yeah you're done playing," you say, snatching the laptop back.

the next night, you texted rafe that you were gonna come over after your morning shift and you didn't get a response, which was odd. you let yourself into his house with the key he'd given you. "rafe?" you called out, walking into the living room. "you here?" no response.

you furrowed your eyebrows, walking up the stairs. maybe he was just in his room, you thought, taking a nap or something. you creak open his bedroom door, met with the scene of him sitting on his bed, looking intently at his laptop.

his eyes shoot up to look at you and he slams his laptop closed, guilty look in his eye. you raise your eyebrows, "what were you doing?" you question him, walking toward the bed.

he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, shaking his head. "nothin.'"

your eyes narrow, "were you watching porn?" you joke, sitting down next to him.

he sighs, "worse.." he trails off. he mentally debates for a minute, before pulling his laptop back into his lap, opening it slowly to reveal dress to impress on full display.

your hand shoots to cover your mouth, laugh escaping your lips anyway. all he does is glare at you, "this is your fucking fault."

you lean into him with a laugh, "I know I know, sorry. don't be embarrassed, rafe." you press a kiss to his lips.

as you kiss him, you can’t help but laugh again, glancing at his screen. "okay wait that's actually a cute outfit. you're getting good," you nudge him, "fashionista," you add quietly with a chuckle.

he looks at you straight-faced, "I'm only playing this dumbass game because you dragged me into it. i was just bored so,” he gestures to the screen.

“sure, rafe, whatever you say,” you tease, cuddling up beside him. "feel free to keep playing, don't stop at my expense."

he scoffs, but gives in and restarts the game.

you wrap your arm around his middle and watch as he puts together outfit after outfit, the grin rarely leaving your face.

you just love your little fashionista.

----

requests are OPEN 💌

[attapullman]

Pretend | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: f!reader, light smut, 18+ only as always, unprotected pinv, fake dating trope, one bed trope, lots of switching between present and past tense whoops

A Note From Mo: It's Choose-a-Fic! Thank you to everyone who voted and has been part of my 500 Follower milestone! Hopefully you like the fic I wrote just for you (with a little extra one bed trope as a special thank you)! 😘

Coupe glasses tinkle and laughter rings out as the rehearsal dinner draws toward an end. Everyone’s had a little too much of the hotel’s signature white sangria. On your left, Isabel and Reuben are frozen in blissed smiles, the outdoor lights casting an ethereal glow. An idyllic night before the wedding.

You should be relaxed. You’ve had a little wine, the most delicious dinner, and tomorrow your college roommate is getting married at this stunning resort. But every time that big hand grazes your shoulder or his breath heats the skin of your cheek, you’re reminded none of this is real and you desperately wish it was.

The only difference between six-year-old Robert Floyd and the man standing in front of you is the broad shoulders. Those pink cheeks are just as prominent and his eyes are wide behind updated corrective frames. Sandy hair politely brushed off his face. Even his thin lips warp in that same warm smile that instantly relieves tension. The only significant difference is those shoulders that fill out the entire doorway as he checks his rooming assignment with Isabel.

From where you stand behind her, suitcase in tow, you feel your cheeks warm and your gaze drop. You haven’t seen him since the engagement party where you muttered, “it’s a small world after all” more than once. It seemed all too coincidental that your college roommate would be marrying a guy who just happens to be in the same Navy squadron as your first grade boyfriend. 

To be fair, you had “dated” Bobby Floyd for a total of a week before your parent’s divorce landed you on the opposite side of the country. There hadn’t even been a formal breakup. He’d simply been the guy you jokingly referred to as your “first love” at wine nights. Occasionally you remembered his collection of vintage Coke bottle caps. 

He was practically a figment of your imagination until Isabel introduced you to the man in the nicely ironed pale blue button down and you sputtered out that you already knew each other.

You’re so lost in how bizarre the coincidence of it all is that you zone out through Bob’s check-in and the next few guests that arrive. It’s not until her line of relatives has dwindled that she remembers you’re sat behind her, sorting out the favors for after the reception. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have given you your card earlier!” she apologizes as she flips back over her clipboard to find your room number. It’s all forgiven, you were waiting to finish up your bridesmaid duties before checking in. Get the work out so you can slip on your bathing suit and enjoy the amenities - pool, sun, and cabana boys - before dinner tonight.

She hands you a room card and walks you through the map of the hotel. You miss the second half while gathering up all your items, mentally trying to remember exactly how many rights before a left. Dinner is at seven and anything else surely she will remind you. With a kiss to her cheek, you head off to your room to begin the fun part of this destination wedding.

The property is stunning, all sun-washed sandstone and lush tropical plants. Deep blue terry cloth draped over the sun loungers you would live on all weekend. Some sun to compliment what should be a flawless wedding weekend. Maybe you’d get lucky and one of Reuben’s hot Navy friends would join you for some eye candy. You deserved a little one-weekend-in-paradise romance.

Suite 4. It’s a little deflating to remember that you’re in this big suite alone because all the other bridesmaids have dates. A least you have some privacy. The intricately carved door accepts your room key and you push the heavy wood open, ready to change and relax.

W-why was Bob in your villa?

Standing amongst the floor-to-ceiling windows draped with ochre that overlook the ocean, white oak furnishing topped with plush linen bedding, and a trailing pothos overtaking the wall, was Bob Floyd - right in the middle of changing his shirt. Equally wide eyes taking you in as he held the bunched heathered grey cotton right in front of his head, thumbs through the head hole, mouth open in shock.

“What are you doing in here?”

What was he doing in here? This was your room. “Why are you in my room?”

Despite knowing he’s not in the wrong, his cheeks tinge a deep pink. Takes a moment to pop his head in the hole of his shirt and brush out the wrinkles. You cling to to the annoyance of him interrupting your afternoon instead of focusing on how toned he’s gotten as an adult.

“This is my room. Suite 4. See?” He holds up a card identical to yours, the glossy ‘4’ reflecting the sunlight. The same ‘4’ that looks back at you. 

Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake, someone at reception accidentally typing in the wrong number while going about their busy day or Isabel reading her meticulous list wrong. An easy fix. 

You bite your lip. “Oh. Maybe I grabbed the wrong card. I’ll go find Isabel and sort it out.”

“I’ll come with you, she might have handed me the wrong card. Probably supposed to be sharing a bed with Fanboy.” He’s impossibly sweet as always. 

You have no idea who or what a Fanboy is, but you accept his company back to reception, leaving your bag in the room purely because the bridesmaid dress alone weighs a half ton. The walk back there - with a few long turns - is a tad awkward as you both walk in silence, occasionally jerking your heads in the direction to turn.

Isabel has wandered away from reception, and is now soaking in one of the poolside bars with Reuben, their lovesick smiles contagious. She gives you the warmest smile when you approach, face splitting in two as she takes in your companion. “Hey, you two! You get settled in okay?”

God, this is awkward. Thankfully before you can muster the courage, Bob steps in. “I think there’s been a mix up with one of our rooms.”

Her eyebrows furrow as takes in what he said. Eyes flit to her lounger where her clipboard of rooming assignment lies within her tote. Reuben sips his frozen margarita in casual interest, not involved in the logistics.

“Which room are you in?” Even without her clipboard, Isabel is pretty sure she knows who is in what room. She spent months perfecting these details.

You hold up the glossy ‘4’, now slightly sticky with your sweat.

“Four? Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s right. Was there a problem with the key? Both your keys?”

You give her a bewildered look. “One of us has the wrong key. We’re not sharing a room.”

“Why not? Your prude parents aren’t here to care if you share a room with your boyfriend.”

Every muscle in your body freezes. What is she talking about?

And while you’re paralyzed on the spot, Reuben looks like he’s about to throw up the margarita. Because he knows exactly what just happened. And not only is it his fault, but he does not have a solution.

Before you can question Isabel, the pilot is throwing his arm around your shoulders and grabbing Bob’s elbow, whisking you two away, calling out to his confused fiancée not to worry, he’s got it handled. The controlled hands of a fighter pilot steering you back in the way of Suite 4 while his face reads like he’s watching a plane crash.

Reuben won’t answer any of your questions, holding up a palm while you sputter out the who, what, where’s? of what is going on. Bob silently allows himself to be directed, confusion upon his brow, but patient enough to wait for an explanation. 

Once you’re privately within the confines of Suite 4, the soft scent of bergamot and sandalwood wrapped around your bodies, Reuben finally confesses his mistake.

“Isabel thinks you two are dating.”

You expect to see eyeballs on the floor from how violently they pop out of your head. What? Bob doesn’t look much better. You two have barely spoken in decades, let alone are in a relationship! Why in the hell would Isabel think that?

Reuben drags a hand down his face, wishing he was back in the pool drinking. “When Bob over here told me that you two dated way back, I casually mentioned it to Is. When she asked the other week if he’d be good sharing a room, I thought she meant Fanboy or Harvard.”

You skip over the fact that Bob has talked about you to other people to focus on the details. “She meant me.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” By this point he’s rubbing the skin on the back of his neck raw, eyes wildly desperate. “Can you two share? It’s only two nights.”

Your eyes meet ocean blue as you both look at the single bed, then at each other. Bob intervenes calmly. “Why can’t you just tell her we need another room?”

Reuben crosses his arms across his chest, suddenly defensive. “We don’t have any other rooms. We booked the place out entirely. Short of Aunt Muriel keeling over, one of you would have to be at another hotel.”

“That’s fine,” you quip, grabbing your suitcase and ready to get the hell out of this situation.

“There’s nothing within a half hour drive. And you’re both in the wedding, that is not going to fly with Isabel.”

You’re tough, you can do hard things. Two nights at a gorgeous resort where you have to share a king-sized bed with the sweetest man on the planet? Could be so much worse. From a look at Bob’s face, he’s having the same realization.

And right as you’re about to tell Reuben that it’s not a big deal, he sends in the clincher. 

“You’re also gonna have to pretend you’re dating.”

“You’re joking.” Your tinny voice rings out in the room. You can do a lot of things - go to a wedding alone, sleep in the same bed as Bob - but you draw the line at pretending you’re dating someone you hadn’t seen until an engagement party six months ago. Nope, no way.

You look at Bob, standing with his hand resting low on his hip, watching this entire scene unfold. Giving him an expectant look, he smooths out his face and gives you a little nod. He’s on whatever team you’re on.

And just as you were about to tell Reuben to get lost, Isabel’s sweet face floods your mind’s eye. That happy smile she always greets you with, and her dismay that something had gone wrong with your room. Her perfectly planned out wedding weekend ruined by her misunderstanding a minor detail. She would insist that you have separate rooms, even if it interfered with plans, and she’d be upset - the smallest tinge of disappointment clouding her bridal smile.

Isn’t the job of a bridesmaid to make the bride not have disappointment?

And now, sitting here at the rehearsal dinner, warm conversation all around you, you can still hear yourself let out a large huff of breath and agree. “Alright, we can pretend for the weekend.”

It’s a decision you stand by, but doesn’t make the subtle way Bob has been playing your boyfriend the last 24 hours any easier. He plays devoted partner a little too well. Carrying your beach bag down to the water that afternoon when everyone wanted to sit by the pool, sweetly rubbing sunscreen into that spot on your back that you can never reach. Grabbing a drink for you when he went up to the bar. 

Your lonely wedding weekend is suddenly filled with this broad-shouldered Navy man who gives you a shy smile every time you make eye contact.

There wasn’t time to put in ground rules before Reuben threw you you to the wolves to socialize with the rest of the wedding party. When Isabel saw you, standing a healthy foot away from Bob and her sculpted eyebrow raised, it was the first test of this “relationship”. Your heart slamming in your chest as you slipped a hand around that thick bicep and rested your hot cheek against his shoulder. His own face fighting anxiety as he allowed you to set the pace. Isabel’s smile brightening as she beckoned you closer, instantly fawning over the two of you and the way Bob’s hand fits a little too nicely around your waist.

Thankfully the copious amount of relatives and friends constantly interrupting Isabel and Reuben prevented your friend investigating too close into this development in your love life. Happy to believe over some intentionally placed hands and the casual way he throws sweetheart in when asking if you want a drink.

“Now that I have you alone, why didn’t you tell me you were together? First loves reunited?!” Isabel drags you away to the other bridesmaids, Bob giving you a small wave as he joins the men. 

You shrug, making a show of looking at the hibiscus to avoid her eyes. Desperate for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to…uh, distract from your big day?”

She wraps you in a warm hug you don’t deserve. “Not distracting in the slightest. He’s the best, you’re so lucky!”

You throw a glance his way, watching his good-natured grin as Reuben’s groomsmen, mostly aviators he’s worked with over the years, joke and jostle on the other side of the lawn. It’s side glances like these that carry through the night; when he pulls your chair out for dinner, asks the waiter to refill your water, and offers you half of his dessert. When your eyes do meet, you drown in the twin oceans that twinkle back at you.

By the time you’re heading back to Suite 4 to share that big bed, you’re pretty sure you’re not pretending to like him anymore.

You’re regretting not putting up the pillow barrier Bob so kindly offered to set up. It seemed childish at the time - you didn’t need a divider to stay on your side of the bed - but now you’re lying here in your little cotton pajamas you did not expect anyone to see and you can hear him breathing and the room is a little too warm. Every sense is on high alert and a pillow barrier would give you an inkling of privacy.

In the silhouette of the moonlight peaking through the curtains, you watch the planes of Bob’s face as he peacefully sleeps beside you. If he’s good looking in the daytime, he’s breathtaking at night. Pale eyelashes against his cheeks, lips slightly pouted, hair mussed from changing sides. You wish you could smooth your fingers over the planes of his face, appreciate the sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his cheeks.

Tomorrow you have to pretend all over again to be in love with him. A feeling that’s already starting to creep inside you. A whole day of his gentle touches and laughs against your cheek. He was the perfect boyfriend that week in grade school, and even more perfect as an adult. Holding his hand made you want to never let go…which promptly made you want to jump out of your skin. 

This was a tiny white lie to get through Sunday morning. That was it.

You keep replaying the last moment before you retired back to your hotel room for the night. The drunken group sitting around the fire pit, a bottle of tequila making its way around the circle. Not enough chairs so you ended up in Bob’s lap, body cradled in the firm comfort of his chest. 

He made it so natural, the way his hand ran up and down your arm when you shivered in the night chill. You knew he could feel the shock up your spine when you noticed how intently he watched you during your story of how Isabel found a rat in your dorm room. He made you feel like the only person out there by the fire pit. The only person on this island.

When even the tequila couldn’t keep you warm any longer, the group disbanded in favor of cozy beds and hot showers. And even when no one else was in sight he still kept his arm around your shoulder to share his warmth, the pinching heels you’d shed in his hand as he asked whether you wanted to shower first.

Lips accidentally brushing your ear when he said he liked your dress; it matched the bougainvillea.

While you hadn’t spent much time together since your parents moved you away too long ago to remember, you were continually floored by how thoughtful he was still. He remembered how Isabel didn’t like ice, and that a few members of his squadron had allergies. Giving up his water because the woman next to him was without. Not to mention how he seemed to go the extra mile with you. All the years of boyfriends before this and not a single one had ever noticed you picked the pine nuts out of your salad; your new fake boyfriend requesting a fresh one sans nuts.

And it was borderline torture watching him get ready for bed post shower. Face and chest red from the scalding water and slick hair pushed back, towel slung a little too low as he dug through his suitcase. You were still speechless as he offered to put up a pillow barrier or something if it would make you more comfortable, making sure you knew he respected your boundaries.

His eyes were so blue without his glasses…

Caution to the wind, you run a finger over his cheek, brushing away a rogue eyelash and promptly turn away from him. Only one more day and you would be free of wanting a man that wasn’t yours.

The Fitch wedding day was perfect. Wide smiles, bridal lace, stunning hydrangeas, and not a dry eye in the house when Isabel and Reuben officially became husband and wife. It was the storybook start to a happy ever after. 

The sunlight blessed ceremony was followed by a lantern-lit reception, dancing and drinking overtaking the sprawling beach-front lawn of the hotel. You stayed out until the evening ended, the wedding party laughing and overfilling glasses of champagne until the last lantern was blown out. 

You barely remembered your rooming/relationship situation until a warm hand was on your forearm, asking if you were ready to go back to the room. It’s entirely unfair how good he looks in his suit. All day you’ve admired it, from the moment he emerged from the bathroom asking for help with his bow tie to an hour ago, when the wedding party did one last rendezvous on the dance floor. 

Bob has an ease on the dance floor, clearly practiced, the hand on the small of your back gently guiding. A hand big and warm and more distracting than trying to remember your own footwork. The dark-haired woman he seems close with whooping out, “Look at those moves, Floyd!” every time you get close, her own date cheering along. 

You shake the memory from your brain as Bob walks you back to the room. Keep the pining to a minimum until you can get to the airport and not have to see him ever again. You’re doing this for Isabel, your own emotions have no place. Even as you watch him open the door to the room and welcome you inside, looking so perfectly boyfriend-shaped.

Your skin feels too hot, your head clouded by bubbles and loud poppers exploding into the sky. Shedding this satin dress and getting into a warm shower sounds like heaven, washing away the buzzing ill-content flooding your body since you joined the wedding group that morning hand-in-hand with Bob. But a broken zipper interrupts those plans.

“Bob?” He stills on his way to the bathroom, bow tie loose around his neck. You indicate to the stuck zipper you’re fiddling with, warmth flaring at the top of your cheeks at your predicament.

The tips of his ears flush as he walks to you, chest a breath away from your back, admiring the way the satin flows over your curves and dips. Takes a moment to gather your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the zipper. The skin of his pinky accidentally brushes your neck, twin breaths catching at the shock. 

Firm fingers guide the zipper onto the track. As they guide the cool metal down your back, the boiling point that has been simmering below the surface since yesterday afternoon comes to a head. The lace of your bra is visible. Now the silken band of your underwear. The air of the room is still, eagerly awaiting what happens next.

While his voice is shaky, his words are firm. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Your head turns to the side, eyes catching his profile, too scared to look at him directly. 

“What are you pretending to do?”

His face falls into the crook of your neck, fingers tightening along the satin of your hips. “Pretending I’m doing our friends a favor. Pretending I’m not falling for you. Pretending every time I touch you it’s not the best part of my day.”

Your hand wraps around his, rough skin and satin beneath your fingers. Needing to tether yourself to reality to make sure this isn’t a champagne-fueled dream that he’s professing against your neck. 

“In that case, I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”

While you can’t see him, you can feel his realization against your skin. Brow furrowing, lips parting. The soft brush of his nose as he straightens up, uses his hands to turn you to him. Finally forced to look at each other amidst the information divulged.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, who braved the waters of uncharted territory. Time stills and speeds up as his face grows closer. The scent of sandalwood and bergamot that’s followed you all weekend replaced by the woodsy mint of his cologne you’ve treated yourself to when tucked into his side. Anyone outside can hear two hearts beating erratically, anxious and excited. 

His lips are warm and comforting, just like everything else about him. Pressing delicately against yours, taking his time and letting you set the pace. You’re torn between the shock of how divine he feels and the greedy need for more. Senses overwhelmed by him; you want to taste more, feel more, see more.

When he pulls away, a gentleman not wanting to overstep, you’re breathless.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” His confession is paired with pink cheeks and large hands playing with your fingers. 

You can’t help but to tease him, the banter from your childhood coming back. “Did it live up to expectations?”

“Way, way better.” Your smile is swallowed in his kiss, chins knocking as you trade off enthusiasm. A groan leaving Bob as you grab his hands and walk back to the bathroom. That hot shower still sounds amazing, but you need more of him.

The travertine tiles glow in the soft light as you watch your childhood love remove his suit, taking time to fold the pieces on the counter, letting you indulge in unbuttoning his crisp shirt as you share another sweet kiss. His own hands twisted in the dress barely clinging to your skin. The sounds that escape him as your hands explore his chest are purely sinful, meant only for your ears.

He barely lets you bask in his body, honed from years of Naval training, before he’s stripping the satin from your frame. You beg for another kiss, but he denies you. He can’t be distracted from watching every inch of skin being revealed. From letting his fingers follow the fabric as it pools at your feet. From kissing his way back up your body until your head falls back against the wall, fingers beckoning him to the shower.

“You’re so beautiful.” It’s more breath than words, but ignite the goose flesh along your skin as he adjusts the hot water and shower head to your liking.

Minutes or hours passed as you reacquainted under the steam. Your fingers tangled in wet strands of sandy hair, fingers slipping along any skin you can reach. His own hands tightly hugging your body, holding you close as he appreciates your nude form. Swallowing each other’s moans as his fingers dip between your folds and you run your palm along his shaft.

The universe has ceased to exist by the time Bob kisses you against the shower wall, fingers wrapping under your thighs to hoist you to his level. Loving the way you giggle as your arms wrap around his neck, trusting him wholeheartedly. Eyes trained at where he lines up with you, relishing the way your breath catches in anticipation. He kisses your forehead as a promise to take care of you, a promise you know he’ll keep.

Once he’s seated deep in you, the moment about connecting rather than getting off, he tilts your head up to check in with you. A kiss as his eyes search you for discomfort. The flames of his eyes burning the brightest blue. One final clench around him and he knows he needs to move; if not for his sake, for yours.

It’s the most glorious dream as he fills you completely, hips rocking into yours as sweaty foreheads meet.

When he brings you to orgasm, a steamy moment punctuated by your muffled screams against his shoulder, there’s nothing fake about the affection as he peppers you with praise. Or when he fills you with his own release a moment later, exhaling thank you, thank you, thank you.

A pillow barrier isn’t even discussed as you lay in his arms that night, cheek against bare chest. His arm trails down your arm like it had the night before, a mindless action you now recognize as meaningful to him as to you. Sated and content, as it should be.

You sit up a little to run your nose along his neck, producing a low groan from him. “You need something, sweetheart?”

“I was wondering, after that,” you gesture to the shower, cheeks heating, “does this mean we’re, uh, dating again?”

He smiles at your flush, cupping your face with one of his large hands. Presses the sweetest kiss to your lips.

“You know, we never had a break up. Technically we’ve been dating this whole time.”

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[thesaltyace]

Link to original video in replies.

[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

stitched creator: keep Palestinians' names out of your mouth when you're trying to defend your decision for voting for Kamala--

bigzaiire: I'm starting to see a lot of these videos coming out and I feel like someone really really has to speak on it, so I'm going to. And I'm gonna tell this with all my due respect -- Palestine is not the only country that's dealing with genocide right now.

I am from Congo in case you cannot tell, I'm from Congo, okay? We are also dealing with genocide in Congo. In fact, the genocide in Congo has been going for way longer than the genocide in Palestine. The genocide in Congo has made 8 millions of victims. 8 millions.

And you might wonder, why am I making this video? Well, I am making this video because I'm going to support Vice President Kamala. 100% I'm going to. And I'm going to tell you why I'm going to support Vice President Kamala.

Listen to me. This is one of the Congolese genocide enabler. His name is Dan Getler. This guy is an Israeli billionaire who owns mines in Congo. This guy was sanctioned in 2017 by President Barack Obama for corrupt and illegal mining.

Listen very carefully. He was sanctioned by Obama. Obama is a Democrat. Okay?

This dude got reinstated. Someone gave him his money back. Someone gave him his money back. Do you know who did that?

Donald Trump.

Donald Trump gave him [Israeli billionaire Dan Getler] his money back. It was one of the very last thing he did as a president was to give this guy his money back.

And do you know who sanctioned this guy again?

President Biden.

President Biden sanctioned him again. So currently, this person [Israeli billionaire Dan Getler] does not have his money. All the money, all the illegal money he made in Congo -- he does not have it right now. Because of President Biden.

So one thing I know for sure, one thing I know for sure: Vice President Kamala, she's not going to let this guy get his money back. And another thing that I know for sure is that if Trump gets back in office, Trump is going to reinstate this guy. Trump is going to give him his money back.

How do you think Israel is getting all the money? Because of this guy. He's one of the people who are giving money is Israel. So if you want to stop this guy -- hmm? -- from getting his money back and potentially giving that money to Israel, make sure that Trump does not make it.

Now let's be real for a second. Because I feel like a lot of people don't take this part in consideration. Listen.

A lot of people have lost their jobs for supporting Palestine.

A lot of content creators got their account banned for supporting Palestine.

A lot of people got hurt physically for protesting for Palestine.

A lot of people have ruined their relations with their families and friends simply because they were on the side of Palestine.

So if you're going to tell all these people who have sacrificed so much for your cause that they are wrong for choosing a candidate who's going to preserve their rights in their own country, then I'm sorry to tell you this, but you are being both ungrateful and disingenuous.

[END TRANSCRIPT]

[phoenixyfriend]

Hey have a fun AU I came up with the other day after reading a bunch of fics with related tropes

It's a raised Sith AU. Anakin was found by Sidious well before he was found by Qui-Gon. He was raised by the Sith, is a classically horrible monster stalking about TCW to be Vader (mask and all, just as an intimidation factor instead of life support) while Ventress and Grievous and Dooku do their own things in a different section of the war. He's got a Really Fucking Weird dynamic with Obi-Wan, mostly attempting to kill him etc.

At some point, Palpatine allows Anakin and Padme to meet. The romance that blooms is one that Sheev decides is useful to him, so he lets it happen.*

Padme gets pregnant. Sidious arranges for her death. Anakin loses his entire shit and tries to kill Sidious. Obi-Wan is off trying to save Padme, unaware of Anakin getting his remaining limbs cut off by his this-universe Master. (This is important, because Anakin does remember Obi-Wan trying to save Padme.)

So we have Anakin, who was raised Sith, and just lost the only things that have mattered to him since his mom died when he was a kid, and Palpatine has pushed him further into the Dark than he ever has. Anakin… knows more about the Sith Secrets in this universe.

Anakin finds a Sithly Time Machine. Maybe on Malachor. There's an owl? Whatever.

Anakin, someone who's been Vader for the vast majority of his life, wakes up at age nine. Maybe even younger, like six. His mother is already dead at Sidious's hands. He's already roommates with Maul. He's already being trained as a baby Sith.

Anakin, being a 20 year old war veteran, is much better at escaping than Sidious has planned for. He reprograms a medical droid to take out his slave chip, steals a ship, etc. All the stuff that Maul wasn't very good at, and Anakin was too young for, so Sidious didn't have the preventative measures in place for yet.

Anakin heads for the one place and person he thinks he can trust: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(Obi-Wan is still a padawan. But this Baby Sith just declared him Adoptive Teen Dad, so.)

@lizasweetling (all indented bits from here will be hers):

Because Sith. Bad for mental health of the user and generally bad for their environs But also baby. And if hes dragging Maul around no doubt the dude is constantly himself confused why he is here Like yeah, Sidious sucked, and this 6-9yo is way powerful and knowledgeable on the dark side (?????) But why are we going to the Jedi? And not even trying to kill them apparently?????

Anakin is very much being affected by Baby Brain and Baby Endocrine System. He cries a lot more than he should.

I WASN'T THINKING OF HIM BRINGING MAUL BUT YEAH. THAT'S. THAT'S A POSSIBILITY.

Jedi Council trying to decide if this is more "Adult Sith got shrunk" or "child got evil man's memories." Vader wants to know why it even MATTERS. (He didn't actually plan on telling them, but he has very little self control right now.)

The first Good Act he does is tell them where to find Ventress and Ky. (In the original timeline, he viewed Ventress as like. Cool older cousin.)

Vader's right, that distinction does not matter Aaaw, she deserves that, that's nice Maybe she will be like 20% less homocidally traumatized

Anakin is furious when Maul and Obi-Wan pick him up under one arm like a package. He is a GROWN MAN he is an ADULT he was a SITH LORD and about to be a FATHER, he is TOO OLD FOR THIS.

They point out that he is Baby.

😂 sorry lord of evil, you're too baby, have a nap and maybe your feel better. Assuming the crisis on Naboo is still happening, and as such the vote of no confidence is right now, it might be a great time to report Sidious as a Sith lord. Post-escape from Sidious, both he and Maul definitely will need a nap. It's that kinda place.

Oh, it's probably at least a year before. Anakin keeps trying to sneak off to kill the man himself, but the Jedi are more ready for his Sneaking than Mustafar was, so he keeps getting caught before he can reach the Senate.

At one point he tries to just CHARGE the place and you get Mace and Obi-Wan sprinting after him. The News captures videos of this very small child getting chased by an older Padawan and a Master and they are mostly yelling for him to PUT DOWN THE SABER.

(Sidious might see him but what's he going to do? Might cause too many problems for Sidious to be aware of Anakin's presence with the Jedi, though. Best not.)

It's probably more expensive on average to hire an assassin on a child, just in general But on a jedi youngling??? If he can even find someone to do that, it will be so very, ridiculously expensive And likely 70%+ upfront payments

Ahsoka definitely seeks him out. Toddler baby child. She adores him for reasons unclear to anyone and everyone.

!!! Baby has baby!! Vader's probably a little thrown by this. Been a while subjectively since someone just loved him. And not even for like, a reason. Baby Vader coerced into sitting obediently for nap by tired kiddo: [The council liked that]

The number of times that vader could only be convinced to nap by Obi-Wan grabbing him, caging him in his own lap, and forced to Sit Quietly until he just fell asleep like that...

He has things to do, he's not tired 😡😡😡💢 (He's 9. Distances are between 150 and 195% longer when measured with steps, he's hungry (subjectively) all the time, and has only middling coordination He so is too tired)

Anakin doesn't know Qui-Gon at all but he keeps getting stuffed into the man's top because he's just. Small enough to fit.

Like the bomb boobs gif, but it's a small child.

the indignity

You just. You can't let him get too self-important.

Vader is Disgusted every time the pediatric healers try to talk down to him like they do to other 6yos.

The difference between this and other "Vader goes back in time to the Jedi" AUs (like Force of Many Sights) is that this Vader has never been a Jedi, and doesn't know anything about them except how they fight when he's trying to kill their friends.

Also Maul's there.

Because even he has a hard time taking himself seriously when hes so easy to manhandle Rest of the time; I am fear, I am death personified As luggage child: I am so small. The tiniest. I crave violence He's probably very annoyed they keep taking away his saber And hey! Obi gets practice not losing his! Woooo!

Something something Anakin clinging to Maul's back (piggy back ride) and chewing on his head or something stupid like that. Perfect height for head biting.

You know, the classic anime head bite

Maul probably has been nominally talked into this because this 9yo is a powerful darksider But he is also the world's most annoying tiny kid Maul would've thought his phenotype would make him immune to this ridiculousness He was wrong At least the teeth are a bit less pointy than his other little brothers'? Appreciating the little things

tfw your unwanted little brother drags you to what you think is a cult but actually they're way less culty than your last two places so you just stick around to keep an eye on the little shit

Anyway. ObiMaul for this one.

They're peers They're tired They just want to sit down and not have to chase this weird little murder child They have a lot in common 😊

They are all just a little bit stupid, I love them.

Qui-Gon is a Cool Mom (throws condoms at them and books it).

Yeah, that's about as much involvement as would be appreciated They probably did a lot of sparring before the tension broke Which did not relieve said tension, generally made it worse (Competence, athleticism, sweat-) Vader is confused, but probably doesn't mind He's probably glad they're distracting each other from stopping assassinating a certain someone (Which- that is 9yo hubris. He would need help to do that)

I still can't decide where on 6yo-9yo he falls but somewhere in there

Babies means easier hiding in shirt, teenie Ahsoka, and longer for him to convince the Jedi council to do a Sith hunt before the Naboo situation

Also longer for Maul and Obi-Wan to faff about being all Tension

* Vaguely inspired by the backstory of Rulebreaker/Wildheart, which is great but significantly more of a romance fic than this.

[eydi-andrius]

What Must It Be Like?

pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

a/n: just a drabble. im so sorry

✨

How can someone be that pretty and at the same time, be totally unaware of it?

You probably have asked this question a million times since the first time you have landed your eyes at him. But you still keep asking this yourself as you watch Aemond interact with the guests and smile dashingly in this party.

His movements are fluid as he walks past the throng of people. His natural charismatic smile enchants not only the ladies and missus, but also their husbands. He led conversations and won their favors. Yet, he claimed himself as unworthy. Of course, God wouldn't create someone so perfect with everything.

You felt the heat run through your cheeks and through your ears when your eyes caught Aemond’s and he suddenly excused himself to Senator Waters before sauntering over to where you're standing.

Your heartbeat was loud, as if wanting to jump out of your chest, the closer he gets and you get a closer look of his slicked back silver hair, pouty lips, strong jaw, and beautiful lilac eyes, which reflects your face, as he looks straight at you.

There is no way someone such as him would look your way and choose you.

“Have you seen my mother? Aegon?” He asked. His brows glistened with sweat. The venue was hot with bright lights and people, it was normal. But god, was he beautiful?

“Oh! Yeah! Yeah! Ummh…Aegon was in that VIP room being scolded by Senator Alicient right now. I think he drank a little too much….again.” You grimaced when you pointed to the room he was held in temporarily. Almost mumbling the word “again”, embarrassed that you have to be the person to inform Aemond of his older brother’s escapade….. again.

Aegon was caught being handsy with a model, in an event hosted by her mother, to gain votes and favor for the next election. You’re just glad he was caught early or else, another scandal would break out, possibly destroying her mother’s already delicate image, just for being a woman in power and position.

You watched as Aemond put his right hand on his temple, massaging his head for comfort, as he whispered words, you can barely hear. By the looks of it, you can tell it was just curse words targeted towards Aegon’s stupidity.

“Please take care of everything for now while I’ll call my mother so she can focus on the event. I’ll deal with Aegon.” He sighed exasperated before he put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it. It was such an innocent gesture, but to you, it feels heavenly.

Not trusting your words, you nodded, smiling. And when he smiled back, you almost lost it but kept your cool as you watched him walk towards the area you pointed earlier. You bit your tongue, trying to stop yourself from screaming with joy.

✨

“You can flirt and I can't? How's that fair?” Aegon voiced his protest, the moment their mother went out and closed the door.

Aemond stops himself from rolling his eyes. After that scolding, it seems like he learned nothing. How can someone older act so childish, like a six year old in a formal event? His face is flushed so reasoning with him would be useless.

“I see, so despite being scolded, you still choose not to listen.”

“Nah. I just saw a glimpse of it before mother closed the door completely. God! You're hopeless!” Chuckling, he flopped on the nearest couch, and wiggled his way to comfort. His tux is now crumpled and a mess. Probably the reason why he was told not to leave until the event ends. There's too many eyes outside.

She’s smart, pretty and loyal. How can he imagine a life with her by his side? He is unworthy. He will just ruin her.

“Damn, for someone as perfect as you, the perfect son, you look like you could use a wine or two?”

“And what? Become an alcoholic like you?” He retorted.

“Damn, you’ll hurt my feelings, you know.” He said as he clutched his chest, crumpling his white undershirt further.

Sighing, he walked towards the pitcher and fetched his older brother a cup of water. His brow furrowed and lip on a thin line as he cannot imagine that she would choose him over those bachelors outside, who were far better than him.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 2

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Chapter 2: Part 1

Word Count: 1.3k

-----

After the performances—an odd mix where the main band yielded the stage to a poet or an accordionist when they needed a break—Jazz and Todd continued to mingle.

Jazz waited until about fifteen minutes had passed before reaching into her bag to search for her phone. “Todd!” she cried.

“Jazz? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find my phone! Shit, what time is it?”

Todd pulled out his. “Eleven fifty. Did you have it when we arrived?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t checked it. Where could it have gone?”

One of the other attendees broke into the conversation. “Lost your phone? What does it look like? We can help you look.” She was a woman in her forties or fifties. Next to her was another woman who nodded her agreement.

“Thank you, that’d be great.” It didn’t take much effort to bring tears to her eyes—all she had to do was remember that Danny was still missing. “It’s a Samsung in an unfortunately standard black case. The lock screen has picture of and my brother. My name’s Jazz, by the way. And this is Todd.”

“I’m Mel and this is my wife Jayden. I’m sure we’ll find your phone soon enough.” Then, in a voice loud enough to cut through the chatter, “Oi! Anyone see an unattended phone lying around? Jazz here misplaced hers?”

Even Mel, though, had to admit defeat after half an hour of searching through the entire apartment yielded nothing.

Jazz sat down on the floor and let herself cry. “And by now we’ve missed the last train. I’m sorry, Todd. What a disaster.”

“Hey, no. None of that, now. Tonight’s been a blast. This sucks for sure, but I can get us an uber or something—”

“How far are you kids going?” asked Jayden.

“Too far,” cried Jazz. “I live out of the city. Parked at Alewife and took the red line in.”

Jayden winced. “Well, we parked nearby. Is there somewhere close we can drive you?”

Jazz blinked up at them. “You’d do that?” She turned to Todd. “I just want to go to sleep. Is there a motel nearby we could stay at?”

Todd pulled out his phone and searched. “Looks like there’s a Holiday inn just down the street or a La Quinta that’s a little cheaper just a bit further out.” He smiled ruefully at the women who’d been helping them. “If you could get us to either place, we’d be more than grateful.”

One of the residents, an older man named Rob, took a seat next to them. “Hey, kiddo. What’s your email? We can contact you if anyone finds it.”

Jazz smiled at him gratefully and gave it. If it wasn’t so necessary, she’d feel bad for lying to and worrying all these people. But they were in so much danger. To the women, she said, “Would the La Quinta be too far out of the way? If I end up having to get a new phone, I’d like to save as much money as possible. Thank God I still have my wallet.”

“Sweetie, it’s totally fine,” assured Mel. “We’d take you all the way home if we didn’t live on the opposite side of the city.”

“Thank you, but that’s really okay. I just want to go to bed and worry about it tomorrow.”

“Come on, dear.” Mel reached out a hand to help Jazz up. “Let’s get you cleaned up then we’ll be on our way.”

Jazz thanked Rob for his help before Mel led her towards the bathroom with an arm around her shoulder.

Less than forty minutes later, Todd and Jazz were alone in a hotel room together. She pulled the blinds shut and finally let herself relax.

When she turned back to the room, Todd was looking at her with one eyebrow raised. “Want to explain to me what all of”—he threw out his hands—“that was about?”

Jazz glared back at him. “You didn’t tell me you died! Damn it, if I’d known in advance—!” she cut herself off and took a deep breath. “Never mind. What’s done is done.”

Todd was deadly still. “How do you know that?”

Jazz threw her hands in the air. “It’s obvious to anyone who knows how to tell. Including the Guys in White who I told you are dangerous to ghosts and liminals! I had plans for what I’d say when they found us, but those won’t work if you’re dead!”

“Wait.” Todd held up his hands. “You’re saying I can be persecuted under those Anti-Ecto acts?”

“Yes! You’re more ghostly than me, and I am watched every minute of every day.”

Todd narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment before asking, “Have you heard of Lazarus Water or had any dealings with the League of Assassins?”

“No! I have no idea what you’re talking about. Quit changing the subject. My brother is the only thing that matters and you and Red Robin promised to help me find him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Jason’s eyes flashed green, and Jazz glared right back at him. “The League of Assassins are the ones who brought me back to life with Lazarus Water. I need to know if you and your brother are mixed up with them because that would change our approach. If it’s a rogue government agency, that’s one thing. If it’s also the league, we’ve got a whole set of other problems.”

Jazz sat down heavily on one of the bed. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t— It’s been a long few months. After a long few years.”

Todd sat down across from her and nodded for her to continue. “Tell me what happened.”

“It started three years ago. My parents, they’re ghost hunters. Been building weapons to detect and hunt ghosts since before I was born. But three years ago is when they finally finished their life’s work: the ghost portal. Only it didn’t work at first. Then my brother Danny and his friends decided to be stupid. They went to check it out. I wasn’t there and the three of them don’t talk about it, but something happened down there that day.

“My brother died and the portal was working. Only, he didn’t die all the way. He became half-ghost, half-human. And that would have been bad enough, but with the portal open, ghosts came through from the Infinite Realms, sometimes called the Ghost Zone by humans. Some were benign, but many of them came to cause problems or hurt people. Danny stopped them.”

Todd held up a hand to stop her. “Your brother became a supehero? How didn’t the Justice League hear about this? How old was he?”

Jazz shrugged. “I don’t know about the Justice League. It could be that no one ever contacted them. It could be they didn’t believe us. And it could be that no one cared. Danny felt responsible though, since it was his fault the portal turned on. And he was the only one with the ability to stop the ghosts, so…” She held up her hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.

Todd closed his eyes and let out a careful breath. “I can guarantee you the JL didn’t know about your town. A fourteen-year-old would never have been left alone to monitor an interdimensional portal if we had.”

Jazz had no idea what she thought of that. Danny had done it all alone. So finding out he could have had help? She shook her head. What-ifs were a waste of time. “Well, he did. But the government didn’t like that a ghost was the main defense against ghosts. So the Ghost Investigation Ward, more commonly called the Guys in White or GIW was formed. At first, they were as incompetent as any other ghost hunter. But they didn’t stay that way.”

“What happened to your brother, Jazz?” asked Todd.

-----

Next

Sorry to end it there. But it's the right length and I need to go to bed. XP

Hope you enjoy!

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

Not much to say about this one. When I went to the event at this location, my friend and I very nearly missed the last train. It was pulling into the station as we entered. If we'd been 2 or 3 minutes later, we would've been stranded so far from my car, I don't even want to know what that uber or cab would've cost.

Luckily Jazz and Jason had a few good Samaritans nearby.

Next up: We learn more about what happened to Danny!

[rise-my-angel]

"# have many thoughts on why they adapted Rhaenys the way they did and all of them strip what makes her so cool and i hate it"

I'd actually love to read your thoughts, I have some of my own but they boil down to turning her into a bizarre mouth piece for the writers (which is what most of the female characters in HOTD feel like) and not allowing her to potentially outshine Rhaenyra which is why all the women on TB lack personalities, it's easier to write for one or 2 women than it is to write for a whole cast.

Rhaenys in the book and Rhaenys in the show are basically two completely different characters.

Princess Rhaenys in the show is not my friend. Princess Rhaenys in the book is cool as all hell and a true Baratheon under it all.

Under a read more, I wrote you a fucking essay I am so sorry.

There isn't as much about Princess Rhaenys in the book due to the narrative style of Fire and Blood, but what we do know paints a drastically different picture. Rhaenys has the purple eyes, and she flies Meleys, but thats all about her that is distinctly Targaryean.

She was born to King Jaeherys firstborn son and heir Aemon, and her mother was Jocelyn Baratheon. So she has the long, straight black hair of a Baratheon with a streaks of white throughout from her age, she was a great beauty but never described in ways that other Targaryean women are, more in a way that she is a great beauty in terms of a Baratheon.

She was a woman who was very clever, very quick witted, but she was also known to be fearless, she had a red hot fiery temper and much like her mothers house words, she was a fierce woman with a fury within her.

As Aemons only child, she was seen by many to be his heir when he became King. Queen Alysanne even calling her their "Queen to be". Alysanne and Jaehaerys often did trips around Westeros called progresses, which was personally going to a Lords castle or keep, spending time with them, holding court, solving local issues and using that time to bond with his highest subjects, which was part of why he held such a long reign of peace, he used his dragons pruposley to make travel easy and personally visited the homes of his people.

Rhaenys would join him on this after she claimed Meleys, going on some progresses around Westeros and she became a very popular royal figure amongst the nobility, notably in the Dustins, Manderlys, Blackwoods, Celtigars, and the Starks.

Now, yes Rhaenys was up for a claim at the great council, but she was actually rejected early on because she was a woman. She then persuaded these lords on her side to push for her sons claim, Laenor, and it is Laenor who lost in the final vote to Viserys, not Rhaenys. Rhaenys and Laena were both rejected and so she pushed for her son without a second thought, she was fine not being Queen, she was the eldest sons firstborn child and she put her firstborn son up to be King.

After word came that Lucerys was dead, it was she and Corlys who were actually in command of the Black Council at the start of the war because Rhaenyra was too in greif to rule.

Then her greatest moment, Rhaenyra was the one who ordered Rhaenys to Rooks Rest and without any reinforcement. Rhaenys of course, listened to her Queen, but the fight is different.

In the books, Criston Cole has set a trap. Lure a dragonrider out, and when they arrived, they would be ambushed by Aemond on Vhagar and Aegon on Sunfyre knwoing the two against one dragon would be enough to defeat them.

"Princess Rhaenys made no attempt to flee. With a glad cry and a crack of her whip, she turned Meleys towards the foe."

Rhaenys realizes she has rode into a trap.

She knows if it were Sunfyre or Vhagar alone she might stand a chance, but against both of them she knew she was doomed. She had time though, she could try and turn to leave. But, Rhaenys is in her blood, a Baratheon. Baratheons don't run from such dangerous odds, even when facing certain doom, she never let herself be controlled by that fear. She did what Baratheons do, and she turned around and fought with fury. With my favourite line about her describing her perfectly:

So, what are the main differences here from the show that are so wrong? Lets talk the two big ones:

Rhaenys being given the Targaryean look instead of the Baratheon look is an attempt to give the feeling that she is a true Targaryean and thats why she is such a fearsome dragonrider. But, in the books, she looks Baratheon, and her personality is textbook Baratheon. By stripping her of the Baratheon look, she show is propping her up more as a Targaryean which feeds into this show's strange relationship with Targaryeans being divine and special. By taking away the fact that Rhaenys was the first and only Baratheon born dragonrider, it downplays the fact that Rhaenys did not fit into the typical Targaryean dragonrider persona which most were at the time. It makes her look like a Targaryean alone, and it severs that relationship in Fire and Blood of the less of a Targaryean someone appears does not equate to being less capable of the feats they claim only they are special enough to do. Rhaenys isn't the books biggest example of that, but she is the big start of it.

By making the final vote at the Great Council come down to Rhaenys vs Viserys, it paints the man vs woman image. Rhaenys and Laena were rejected very fast, and it was Laenor, her son, who Viserys won against. Not Rhaenys. The entire show though, follows this idea. That Rhaenys lost because she was a woman and that dictates so much going forward. It dicates everything she pushes for, women in power, not being in service to men, but Rhaenys was never like that. Rhaenys did not fight against the world she grew up in, she navigated it despite of it. She did not promote this woman in power idea just because she was rejected. She was Jaeherys grandaughter, and he was a man who did not treat the women in his life as equals. She would be used to being passed over for men, her grandfather did it with almost every woman in his family to the point it drove his wife away. Rhaenys in the books didn't stand for anything. She didn't do what she did because she wanted to stand with a woman over a man. It wasn't about that. In the books, her and Corlys essentially pick the lesser of two evils. In their minds, standing with the Greens means her family and grandaughters will be at the mercy of Rhaenyra and Daemon, but standing with the blacks, she is at the mercy of Alient and Aegon. One of those two is a more dangerous foe to her family, and she sides with the family that gives her granddaughters a safer chance. It had nothing to do with anything and the show doesnt even establiush why she chooses Rhaenyra, she just does and then starts promoting the idea that Rhaenyra is the woman who wants peace not the men startingg war and it turns her into a mess who is onyl here to lecture the audience that the men are bad.

Really, my biggest gripe is, Rhaenys as a Baratheon dragonrider has a lot of potential. Due to the structure of Fire and Blood we don't spend a lot of time with her, but we do know that the relationship between the Baratheons and the Targaryeans is extremely tenuous and sore. The Baratheons have long since resented the Targaryeans, and Princess Rhaenys literally was supposed to be the bridge between the families.

Queen Alysanne married Aemon to Jocelyn Baratheon so that the Baratheons can have an heir one day on the Iron Throne and hopefully stop the fighting and resentment the Stormlords had towards them. But by rejecting her and her family at the Great Council, it reopens that old wound. And the Baratheons become disillusioned more and more when Viserys makes no effort to mend that bridge.

Rhaenys is a Targaryean raised dragonrider, who was distinctly Baratheon looking with the feirce personality of a Baratheon, and that contends a lot with what the Targaryeans all stood for especially at the time and it could make for a lot of great scenes revolving around what is wrong with the Targaryean legacy. The more like a Baratheon Rhaenys was, the more the Targaryeans stood out as people who were doomed to destory each other.

Rhaenys was born to be the child that mended the bridge between the Targaryeans treating the Baratheons like lesser then, when they had once been their strongest ally. By making Rhaenys just another Targaryean, it erases that conversation of why the Targaryens were bound to lose. That even when they married the Baratheons into the family, they still screwed it up because they couldn't get over their biases of looking down on the Stags.

Rhaenys had potentiol to showcase a time in history that foreshadows whats to come. For decades before the dance the Baratheons resented the Targaryeans, and after the dance, that resentment will continue to grow until it explodes during Roberts Rebellion.

By erasing her as a Baratheon, it erases the potential of showing why the Targaryeans were doomed to lose. They always treated their Baratheon allies as war fodder, just like throwing Rhaenys into battle without any backup, and her personality and looks standing out against the Targaryeans could have shown why the conflict of Roberts Rebellion was inevitable.

The Baratheons were always going to fight back against the Targaryeans one day, and hotd lost its chance to use Rhaenys to lay the first stones and show why.

But, that paints the Targaryeans in a more negative light, because the Baratheons are in the right to hate the Targaryeans. So, they erased everything about Rhaenys that stood out.

Even her death. A very Baratheon move, refusing to flee from certain death, because she was a woman with fury who was willing to face her enemy head on no matter what it was about to cost her.

Instead, she has a confusing death where her going back is framed as brave, but its not. Rhaenys in the books knew she might have stood a chance against Vhagar alone. So in the show, shes just turning back for a battle that she might win. In the books, shes against Vhagar and Sunfyre. Shes turning back towards a battle she knows she will lose, but she does not run, because she is a Baratheon, and they do not run from their enemies. They face them even towards certain death.

Also, book Rhaenys never exploded hundreds of smallfolk with her fucking dragon. She never did that.

[viaoverthemoon]

Behind Closed Doors

Thank y'all for all the votes!

Let me know if you all would like more, in which I can possibly post it in parts on here!

Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader (Medieval Universe)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: Your family's kingdom is under attack and Leon's family offers protection. Everyone thinks this is your first time seeing Leon ever since your betrothal. If only they knew...

Tw: MEDIEVAL TIMELINE AND SPEECH, some characters not from the RE-verse/they will be in later parts if y'all want it, mention of battle and injury (not detailed), fluff, SMUT, but it's kinda soft, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virginity loss, minor description of pain, fingering, orgasm denial(?), sorry the smut is long as hell, BUT ITS WORTH IT PROMISE, Sudden ending

18+!! NSFW!! MDNI!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!

Enjoy! <3

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The nature of the Kingdom of Duevaula is certainly not what you were expecting it to be.

People spoke of the lands as though it were surrounded by fires, commoners walking around subdued by chains are constantly guarded by cruel soldiers.

Instead, healthy trees grow far and wide around the kingdom, children running in the streets laughing as older kids chase them with no malice. Soldiers patrol the area, but most of them look carefree, conversating with locals and playing with the children.

"Sister? Are you alright?"

The voice of your sister pulls you from your thoughts, eyes drifting to the 12-year-old at your side as she places a hand on yours. "Yes, Nara Vella. I'm fine."

Of course, she sees right through you. "Are you certain? I know the events that took place at home may have been-"

"Nara... That is enough. Thank you for asking, but I am fine."

Nara Vella scrunches her nose, about to say more but the carriage comes to a stop and a trumpet blares.

"We're here."

You listen as The Herald announces your parents, the king and queen of The Kingdom of Islandia, but your heart can't stop pounding.

You and your sister rise just before your carriage door opens. Since you are the first born, your name is announced first.

"Announcing the firstborn Princess of The Kingdom of Islandia, (Y/N) (L/N)."

You stop out of the carriage accepting the footman's outstretched hand. All eyes are on you as your navy-blue skirts brush against the concrete, but your eyes are on one person alone.

Your sister is announced behind you, and you step forward to the man infront of you.

You drop into a curtsy. "Your highness."

He bows deeply. "My lady."

Your eyes meet his, the light of a secret hidden in your gazes. He offers an arm, and you accept it, walking with him behind both of your parents.

Prince Leon.

You were betrothed to him at the age of 6, back when your kingdoms were butting heads, resulting in a feud, and needed a way to end the hostility between them. 13 years later, everyone thinks this is the first time you've seen each other since. But it isn't.

Leon had first sent you a private letter when you were 13 years old, requesting your presence at a hidden lake that rested in the middle of your parents' territories. Your heart had raced, excited for a new adventure in life, and you immediately rushed to meet him there.

You've been seeing each other there for years, playing in the waters, having picnics in the soft grass, feeding each other strawberries and chocolates, and reading in silence. Just enjoying each other's presence.

You shared tiny kisses at the lake a few times, but never went any farther in fear of what could happen if anyone found out you'd lost your purity.

You smile at him and lower your voice. "It's been too long since I last saw you, your highness."

He hums, placing his hand on top of yours. You both know it's only been 2 weeks, but who's counting? "Yes, my lady. Far too long. I was beginning to forget the feeling of your soft lips against mine..." He lowered his head, brushing his lips against your ear. "Perhaps, when we are alone, you could remind me?"

☆

Hours later, you and your family sit in the dining room with the Kennedys. All parents, along with Leon, had been locked away in the war room for hours, discussing ways to save the Kingdom of Islandia after it was attacked by another kingdom that sought revenge against your father, the king.

You'd all barely escaped with your lives, most being unscathed, but you, your mother, and your personal guard Jill, hadn't recovered from a couple injuries. Your sister brings up this fact during dinner.

"If it wasn't for (Y/N), I would've been walking around with one leg instead of two!" She dramatically waves her hands around as you try to shush her, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

"Nara Vella! Mind yourself! We do not speak of those events at the dinner table!"

She merely giggles, whispering an apology before returning to her plate. You sigh, about to turn back to your own food, but you feel a pair of eyes on you.

You glance at Leon from across the table through your peripheral, noticing his frown.

'Are you alright?' He mouths. You smile reassuringly and nod, raising a brow and offering a teasing smile.

'Worried about me, your highness?'

He only rolls his eyes, seemingly looking at his plate but peeking up at you through his lashes. 'Always, my lady.'

☆

You sit in your chambers after dinner, trying to sew a tear in the dress you'd worn on that fateful night.

It had been washed and dried, but it suffered damage from sword and arrow grazes. And you couldn't just let it be ruined. It's one of your favorites, a gift from your mother when you finally came of age.

It held far too many memories.

A soft knock comes from your door and, suspecting it was your sister, you call to it. "Enter."

You become frustrated with the sew, accidentally pricking your finger with the needle. You curse, yanking your hand away and to your mouth.

Admittingly, the stitch is not the only thing that has you frustrated.

After the feast, you'd tried to get Leon's attention so the two of you could find a moment alone. But he was instantly pulled away by his father, who began to speak of kingly duties and war experience.

You knew that talk would take a while.

"Nara Vella, I am truly not in the mood right now. This damn stitch is going to be the death of-"

"Is this how you speak when I am not around?"

You yelp, spinning around and dropping your materials.

Leon, your betrothed, leans against your chamber doors.

He smirks at you, approaching you at a slow pace.

"How did you- I thought your father would have you occupied for a while..." You stand, wringing your hands and shifting nervously, trying not to pay any mind to his predatory gaze. He offers a teasing smirk.

"I have my ways," He steps into your space, his chest nearly touching yours, and lifts a hand. You immediately relax, nuzzling your cheek into the palm of his hand.

He hums and you sigh, relishing in the presence of one another. "You're certain? That you are not hurt?"

You sigh, placing your hand on top of his. "Yes, Leon. I really am fine."

You feel him let out an exhale, his shoulders dropping in relief. "Good. Because if anyone left lasting damage on you, I'd take the throne right now and declare-"

You smack his chest, glaring up at him. "Leon! You will not declare war on a kingdom any time soon!"

He only throws his head back and laughs, caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Alright! Relax, my lady. I only jest..." You huff a breath through your nose, staring at his deep blue eyes and wide smile.

These were the moments you truly missed.

While the both of you tried to keep visitations strictly scheduled for once a month, it was pure torture to be away from him that long.

You inhale his air, a deep, husky scent of forest mixed with wildfire.

"I have prayed and waited every night to be in your arms again. I had never known this would be the reason why..." Your other hand grasps his shirt, holding onto him so tightly one would think he might disappear.

"Dreadful circumstance or not, I finally get to see your face again..." Leon raises your chin, your eyes shifting between his eyes and his lips. "And you, finally get to remind me of your taste..."

You could swear sparks fly when your lips meet.

Hot, searing passion colliding to create a love that is hidden behind closed doors. His fingers comb through your hair, your fingernails scratch against his loose sleeve shirt.

His tongue brushes against your lips and your heart leaps, your lips instinctively opening. A gasp comes from those parted lips. Your back arches and Leon chases you, hand lowering to grip the silk material of your robes.

He parts from you all too soon, dipping his head and placing wet kisses along your neck. A moan escapes your lips and the both of you freeze, a pause filled with red hot tension.

Your nails dig into his shoulder, breaths coming out in short, quick gaps. "Perhaps-... Perhaps we should stop..."

"We should..."

And yet, no one moves.

You swallow, throat feeling tight. "If my mother-... If our families ever found out about this-"

His head leaves the crook of your neck, eyes gazing down at you with powerful determination. "They won't."

Your breathing shakes. "But- When that time comes-"

His hands grab your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. "They. Won't." His thumb strokes your bottom lip, blue eyes burning. "Do you trust me?"

Your answer is immediate. "Of course."

His lips twitch. "Good. Then know, that they will never know. And we will never be separated."

His confidence brings forth your own.

You know this decision is a big one. A lady handing a man her virtue is something that with bind her to him forever.

And while you hate the hold that purity has on the ways of society... You know Leon is the only man you would ever give yourself to.

Your eyes widen, a desperate gleam shining in them. "Take me, Leon."

☆

Your naked body shines in the moonlight, every curve and crevice on display for him, and him alone.

Leon stands at the foot of your bed, staring down at you with hazy, lust filled eyes.

You'd both stripped each other of their clothes in record time, a cluster of rushing hands and pitiful whines. You try not to stare at his... rather intimidating manhood, that stands tall and hard as rock. Albeit, he stares at you without shame.

His eyes rake over every inch over your body, starting at your ankles. Then moving to your legs, then your hips, your stomach, breasts, lips and finally your eyes. His bright blue oceans of eyes had turned into a deep dark sea, leaving you panting and burning.

You open your arms, reaching for him. "Well? Do not stand there and stare..." You somehow keep your voice steady, the whimper in your throat begging to be released.

He smirks, jerking himself a few times, before placing his hands on the bed and crawling toward you.

You hesitate, and then spread your legs. He settles between them, hot palms landing on your thighs and causing the skin to be set ablaze.

Your heart pounds in your ears, breathing turning heavy and legs shaking.

You're afraid. Excited! But afraid.

Many of the older ladies had said that their firsts were blissful, yet excruciatingly painful. But others said it was not as bad as it seems.

This left you with uncertainty, gooseflesh rising on your arms as you try your best to keep your emotions at bay.

But of course, Leon reads you like an open book.

He caresses the soft skin of your thighs, thumbs moving in small, calming circles. "You have nothing to fear, (Y/N)." He leans down, running his nose over your cheek. "Of course, I would never do anything to hurt you. It is never too late to stop-"

He barely gets the words out before your hands harshly grip his biceps. "No! I mean- um... I want this, Leon. More than anything." Your grip relaxes and you offer a reassuring smile.

He smiles back at you.

The heavy atmosphere returns when he leans down again, lips skimming your throat as his length nudges your sensitive ball of nerves.

You nearly jump out of your skin; a sharp gasp leaves you.

Leon feels your nervousness, and, luckily, knows just the cure.

A hand creeps down your body, getting lower... lower...

Until rough, calloused fingers slip between your folds.

A loud moan is quickly cut off by his lips.

Hopefully your guards aren't paying too close attention to your chambers...

Your knees bend, eyes clenching shut as Leon swallows all of your noises. His fingers work slow circles of pleasure into your clit, the sensation one you've never felt before.

Much like getting too close to a hot fire in the blazing cold of a harsh winter, it warms your insides and leaves your outside wanting more.

You throw your head back, the back of your fist flying to your mouth as you try to hold back the sounds your throat nearly let's burst out.

"Hah... Leon-..."

His name rolls from your tongue as a soft whisper, words stuttering off into a sharp inhale as his fingers graze over your soaking hole.

Your other hand grips the soft sheets, body giving in as he completely takes control. Your eyes lock with his.

He's deep in concentration, breathing shallow and sweat matting his blonde hair to his forehead.

Gaze lowering, you see the angry red color of his girth. It throbs, begging for attention while trying its hardest to sit still and look pretty.

"Nuh-uh. Eyes up here, princess." Your glossy eyes snap back to his, mouth slightly agape and brows pulled together. Leon smirks, pleased with your expression. "You can make that up to me later. But this moment, is for you."

His other hand gently removes your hand from your lips, soft sighs coated in ecstasy falling from them immediately.

The pressure builds as you roll your hips to meet his fingers. He slowly slides a finger into you, watching your expression as it shifts. He keeps another finger working on your nerves, so the one inside only adds to the pleasure.

You cry out when he adds a second one, now feeling a slight sense of discomfort, but still pleasure. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, mumbling praises. You're surprised by the sound of his voice, slurring slightly as if he'd indulged in a tin of ale.

"Good job, princess... Doing such a good- hngh~... Does that- feel good, my lady?"

Your body seems to like the sound of Leon, if the new wave of slick was anything to go by.

You feel the knot in your lower stomach tighten, your moans raising in volume as your back arches. You feel something coming. Not sure what it is, but your legs begin to shake. You wait in anticipation, every thought focused on the new stage of euphoria this feeling was going to bring... until Leon completely pulled away his hand.

You gasp, eyes snapping open. Your body falls limp as you catch your breath. "Wha-... Why-"

"I hope you do not mind if I become a little selfish, my lady..."

Your eyes snap to him, sitting up on your elbows and ready to reprimand him for denying you of your bliss, but your words are blown away.

Leon sits up on his knees, manhood curved upward in his hand as he strokes the length. Wet, sticky liquid leaks from the red tip, veins protruding from every angle.

Your air is taken away, leaving only enough to let out a sharp exhale.

"But... I want you coming undone only on my cock."

You eye him, switching between his eyes and his... cock, before nodding slowly. "Okay... Okay, Leon."

He leans down again, pressing wet kisses on your neck and cheeks, as his length glides between your folds. "I will not move until you're ready..." And then, he begins pushing himself inside.

Your nails dig into his shoulders with a gasp. His hand grips the pillows as he grunts. Both of you release soft noises of pain, holding onto each other as he continues to slowly enter you.

You hold back a scream when he finally bottoms out, doing your best to relax as to not hurt him anymore. You feel his soft kisses on your face as he apologizes continuously, hand roaming the skin of your waist as the other rubs circles into your clit again.

After what feels like forever, the pain slowly subsides and makes room for pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders loosens. You instead put them around his neck, digging your hands into his hair. "I'm ready, Leon... You can move-"

His hips snap against yours without warning.

You cry out, clinging to him as he begins to thrust into you at an animalistic rate. He grunts with every thrust, caging your body in as he loses himself.

"I have waited so long-. Please, please forgive me, sweet angel-"

Heavy panting and the smell of sex fills the air, the sound of skin meeting skin resounding within the room. Your moans and pleas do nothing to teeter the wild and rough movements of Leon's hips. He growls into your neck, holding your hips to keep you from getting away.

The knot is seconds away from snapping, but it feels stronger than it was before. Different even... Almost like you need to run to the pot. You feel overwhelmed, pushing at Leon's shoulders. "I can- I can't! It's too much- Ah! Leon-!"

The band snaps.

You scream, toes curling and back arching.

Your body pushes out a wave of liquid, most likely soiling your sheets. The feeling burns you inside and out, tensing all of your muscles and leaving you weak and trembling. You pant heavily, body still jerking from Leon roughly thrusting into you.

The after-bliss you'd once felt begins to feel uncomfortable. Overstimulated, you claw at his biceps in hopes of getting his attention.

He groans when he hears you whine. "Almost- Almost there-"

His thrusts get sloppy, his cock hitting somewhere so deep that it somehow prolongs the burn. You bite his collarbone to keep from screaming again.

It would seem that was his final push, as he pushes deep inside of you, releasing a low, husky groan and throwing his head back.

You watch as his entire body shudders, his grip on your hips tightening so much you're sure you'll have bruises in the morning.

A warm rush of liquid flows into you, seeming to be a never-ending flow as Leon falls limp, landing right beside you.

You'll definitely have to bribe your guards in the morning.

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Whoops!

Sorry for ending it like that! If you guys want this to have more, let me know! I'll pick it up from here!

Let me know what you think!

Hope you enjoyed! <3

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

[she-whatshername]

Tyrrish Men Headcanons you didn’t ask for but voted for

We back!!!

Prompt: How they would apologize after an argument

Xaden

Right to jail for this one lol

The crime: Keeping a secret from you and doubling down on his decision, leading to an argument

How he apologizes: He’s seriously conflicted about the apology. He doesn’t half ass anything and the fact that he’s apologizing for what he thinks is just trying to protect you tears him up inside a bit. You hear a knock at the door and when you open its Xaden with his hands on either side of the frame, head down and not looking you in the eyes. Eventually he lifts his head and you just see the internal anguish he’s going through because he wants to keep you safe but doesn’t know how to do that without keeping secrets

He uses your full name when he begins to speak, no nicknames. That’s when you know its real.

You pull him into your arms before combusts with emotion and he just MELTS into you. He’s now muttering full apologies into your hair, your shoulders, anywhere where his face is just pressed against you.

He wants to kiss you, but he’s scared of the rejection you may give. When you finally initiate the kiss, its over, love. He picks you up with ease and hauls you into your room for a more personal, intimate apology

Garrick:

Ooof, a tough one.

The crime: Takes it a little to far when teasing you. You walk out on him after he makes a joke about the stance you make before you fight on the mat. He knows that you’ve been working on it, and he knows that you’re not sensitive when other people say stuff, but you are when it comes to him.

How he apologizes: The man is chasing you dow the moment he realizes what he says. He doesn’t apologize though until he’s away from everyone else and its just you two. You still push him away and ask for space, he lets you have it. The next day however he’s finding you the moment you leave your dorm room, asking to walk you to breakfast, class, you name it.

His apologies are genuine and on point. He knows what he did wrong, he knows why it was wrong and he actually puts the effort in to change his behavior.

And if anyone does say anything about your fighting stance, he’s on them in an instant. “Cut that shit out, she’s standing just fucking fine.”

Bodhi:

Absolutely nothing, why are we even writing something. This angel could do no wrong, lol

The Crime: He yells at you. Ugh, and it hurts to write this one out!!

Yeah, I know. He is the level headed, sweet one of the group and that is absolutely true however I think Bodhi is the type of person to lose their cool every once in awhile. He is Xaden’s brother cousin after all. Like he’s got pent up emotions he doesn’t let out in a constructive way and it takes one moment to cause him to just lose it. And his fear of losing you or anyone else is projected as anger. He doesn’t mean it, but it happens.

So, he snaps at you. You’re tasked to stay behind while Bodhi and the others go out on patrol and you’re trying to convince him to let you go, saying that you’re needed there and you’re strong, which you are. However the back and fourth you both are having reaches a boiling point and Bodhi steps into his ‘wingleader’ voice and snaps with a “ I said no and thats final! Fuck, can’t you just take orders for once!”

How he apologizes: The moment it leaves his lips, and the second he sees you jerk your head, and take a step backwards he’s immediately apologizing. “Gods. I’m sorry. I’m, so, so sorry, love. I just can’t…I can’t…It can’t be you.”

He’s kind of short circuiting like Xaden but he’s much more of a waterfall of words whereas Xaden is all emotions behind the eyes.

He’s just embarrassed and ashamed he lost control like that in front of you.

Like, Bodhi would probably drop to his knees and start crying if you dont step in and tell him him to come into your arms.

“I dont deserve you.” He mumbles in your embrace. But you hold him still anyways. You’ve known him long enough to tell he’s genuinely sorry and you can see his fear through his anger

Is he off the hook though? Absolutely not. You give him a stern talking to about his behavior and he’s agreeing with everything you say.

And yes, you do get to come on the mission

And yes, yes. You best believe he puts a bouquet of flowers in your room or, better yet, hand them to you in front of everyone. Because, let’s be real Xaden learned that move from the Durran side of the family

Liam

Another precious one

The Crime: It’s not Liam’s fault, but I think it would be him not making time for you, and not seeing how much that hurts.

If we’re thinking of the Basgiath days, he’s Violet’s shadow, which means he puts her and his loyalty to Xaden above you. And that hurts.

You’re waiting for him in the hallway to talk to him and when you finally get ahold of him he’s distracted. His eyes are scanning for Violet. You tell him he needs to choose to focus on you or you’re walking away

“Please don’t ask this of me.” He pleads to you. But he’s still not making the eye contact you want. You’re done and leave him in the hallway.

You actively avoid him for a few days, even when he does manage to find the time to go look for you.

How he apologizes: Honestly, give one up for Violet who senses something is amiss and drags him to your room, pounding on the door to get you to open up so Liam can apologize. She takes it a step further and walks into your room and does her homework on your desk, saying she’s not listening so Liam can both apologize to you and keep his eyes on her.

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 3, Wave 2, Poll 6

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included. 

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Eda Clawthorne-The Owl House

Qualifications:

She has a magical chronic disorder which has flare-ups, is mitigated by taking medication (potions), and has similar side effects to many real disorders such as fatigue, greying hair, and physical impairment (drains magic, a natural ability of *most witches). Unlike in other stories however, her condition is NOT ever completely cured. It does evolve and become more manageable over the course of the story, but she still experiences symptoms from it. Eda also loses one of her arms later in the story. She does get a replacement hook, but it is never shown whether she has a functional prosthetic or not. Most likely, she only has one fully functioning arm after this. As for being queer, she is in a relationship with a nonbinary person and is all but confirmed bisexual (has a secret box with the bi flag on it seriously why else would she have this). Also the owl house has a Lot of queer characters in it and I mean. just look at her. I would be surprised if she wasn't queer somehow.

Bisexual, and has a curse that affects her day to day life

Bi & lost arm and has a chronic illness metaphorically

Propaganda:

Has canonically dated both men and a non-binary person. Her curse affects her ability to use magic (and at one point outright stops it), which is very important in witch life. Said curse also causes her body parts to fall off sometimes. Many have said her curse is like a metaphor for depression but really it's more like a magic version of a physical disability (although I wouldn't be surprised if she actually also had depression).

Uuuuh she’s great and stuff idk I can’t propaganda well sorry

Ballister Boldheart-Nimona (Flim)

Qualifications:

He has a boyfriend (and then they have a sort-of-breakup but they're back together by the end) and he has a prosthetic arm.

He’s gay and missing an arm.

He’s explicitly gay, in love with a man. He loses his arm then builds himself a prosthetic while on the run like a badass.

His boyfriend cut his arm off :( he uses a prosthetic now.

His arm got chopped off after being falsely accused of killing the queen, he spends the rest of the movie with a prosthetic metal arm. His arm was also chopped off by his lover, Ambrosius Goldenloin, during said false assassination.

His boyfriend cut off his arm

Canonically has a boyfriend and built his own prosthetic

Qualifies by both being canonically disabled (amputee) + canonically gay

Propaganda:

Please plz plz vote for him

His boyfriend cut off his arm. He made himself a prosthetic. He used his arm to block someone’s sword. He kissed his boyfriend. He has sad wet cat eyes, which isn’t relevant but still. He has them.

He’s so GOOD even though he’s having like the worst day ever (specifically talking about movie but webcomic also applies). He has the biggest wettest eyes how can you not root for him????

People love him! He kinda looks like a sad, poor little cat. A real soggy wet kitten man.

Let's see. He and Ambrosius are lovers, or at least boyfriends, from the moment they're introduced. Ballister gets his arm chopped off by Ambrosius during the false assassination. Ballister spends the rest of the movie trying to convince Ambrosius and the kingdom of his innocence, with a metal arm replacing his missing one. It originated the phrase "Arm Chopping is not a love language!" Did I mention he's a main character too?

Is a science nerd, built his own prosthetic arm with his non-dominant hand, accidentally adopted a trans chaos demon of a 1000yo being

A knight, Nimona's best friend and father figure of sorts, but the plot mostly revolves around him- Ballister is framed for murder and has to hide while trying to figure out who framed him and how to prove he's innocent. Nimona becomes his sidekick (he didn't want one, she just showed up at his place one day like a very chaotic stray cat) and together they form a great duo against the corrupt government. This is complicated by Ballister's ex Ambrosius, who accidentally cut off Ballister's arm and is a bit brainwashed by government propaganda. Oops. You should watch Nimona it's great 💞🦈

The qualifications and propaganda paragraphs correspond, @foulfirerebel is the fifth submitter, and there were at least 7 others.

[sokuly419]

I don’t typically make posts like this myself, but maybe some others would like to hear it. This is something of a stream of thought so sorry if it seems choppy and whatever.

I’m not going to sugar coat it. This election was absolutely awful. I know we’re all fucking terrified. We’re all grieving. Famous show hosts to politicians on both sides of the aisle are in tears with us.

I bawled before they called it. I cried once Trump broke 100 electoral votes well before Harris. I knew it was over by time I went to bed. My best friend tried to talk me out of it, telling me it wasn’t over until it was. I absolutely bawled when I saw 210. My wife held me while I just sobbed in a way I haven’t in a very long time.

I am terrified. And heartbroken. And pissed.

Now… we have to live. Trust me, I’m having those thoughts too. Many of us are. But the biggest middle finger you can give to them is to stay alive. They want us dead. We know that. Don’t make it easy for them. Don’t make any of this easy for them.

Take your time to cry, scream, lose control for a moment. But don’t kill yourself. You will have a place in fighting back that no one else can take. You don’t have to be on the frontlines. Just simply staying alive is fighting back and if that’s all you can give, we’ll take it.

Listen to your favorite song one more time. And maybe again after that. And again. Rewatch your favorite show or movie. Do it a few times so you don’t forget your favorite scenes or lines. Read your favorite book or fanfic. Escape for a bit. Make your favorite comfort food.

Are you looking forward to a new show? A new season of a show you like? A new movie maybe? Is one of your favorite musicians releasing new music soon? Do you have pets? They won’t understand and they’ll miss you.

I don’t care what you have to do to keep seeing the next day, just do it. I know it’s hard. I really, really do. I’ve been there. I’ve tried more than once. I still have those thoughts. And those thoughts got bad again with the outcome of the election. We’ve already lost so many people because of it, there’s no denying it.

I hope this can reach at least one person who needs it. If this can save even one person from taking their life, I’ll take it.

Right now, I’m looking forward to season 2 of Arcane. I rewatched season 1. A She-Ra rewatch is in my sights too. I’ve been listening to new (to me) music. If you have Spotify, the daylist is a good way to get new music through the day. I have pets and they wouldn’t understand. I can’t do that to them. And it would devastate my wife. And my family. I have yet to reread a couple of my favorite fics.

Take it from someone who lost a best friend to suicide. The grief… it’s not something that can be explained. You will be missed. Your best friend will scream and cry and cuss out every deity there is. They will feel like they failed you in every way. I don’t wish that kind of grief on anyone. If I didn’t have the list of things I’m pushing through for, the experience I went through definitely would make me think long and hard about it.

Now is the time we organize and fight back. And we can’t do it without you. You’re fighting back by living, so live. And keep living. Stay as safe as you possibly can. I love you, stranger reading this. I see you. Let’s hold hands or hug or whatever and just breathe together for a minute. We’re alive. And we have to stay that way for as long as possible.

Don’t forget: the first Pride was a riot.

We got this. We’re going to do it terrified. But we’re gonna do it. We have to. We owe it to those before us.

[kaycode1999]

LMK Sun Wukong x Fem. Reader

( Takes place just after the end of the last episode where everyone is at the beach. Reader is MK’s sister figure - around 25)

Wukong and Macaque settle into silence and Macaque starts eating the frozen peach popsicle when he notices Wukong staring off. He follows his eye line to see Y/N sitting on the sand reading a book and noticing Wukong has the most love sick expression on his face, a devious smirk makes it way onto his face. " No way." He says causing Wukong to snap out of it and turn to him, " What?" Wukong questions. " You have a thing for the kids sister!" Macaque says, Wukong was grateful it wasn't possible to see him blush. " What?! No I don't... why would you even-" Wukong starts but is cut off by the " I know you're lying" look Macaque gives him, Wukong glares at him for just a second before giving up. " So what if I do? what does it matter to you anyway?" Wukong demands crossing his arms. Macaque chuckles, " It doesn't really" he says " Though it IS kind of ironic that after all the effort you put into getting rid of your own mortality that you ended up falling for a mortal.”. " Yes, thank you captain obvious. l'm well aware of that." Wukong says glaring at him and Macaque chuckles at his anger, " So?" Macaque says. " So what?" Wukong questions, " Aren't you going to go talk to her? Make a move or something?" Macaque asks.

“ I-,” Wukong starts before slightly shrinking in on himself with a defeated sigh “ I don’t know if I can.”, Macaque raises an eyebrow at him confused at where this shyness was coming from. “ Why not?” Macaque questions, Wukong starts rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “ It’s just… I’m afraid to mess it up, alright?” He says avoiding eye contact “ I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, how can I be sure I won’t mess this up too?”, Macaque’s gaze softens slightly in understanding. “ You can’t.” He says, Wukong glares at him “ Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”. Macaque rolls his eyes, “ What I’m saying Wukong is that you can never know what’s going to happen in the future. All you can do is try your best.” He says. “ Oh.” Wukong says blinking in surprise and the anger completely dissipates, he looks away seeming to get lost in thought. Macaque rolls his eyes again before opening a shadow portal beneath Wukong who makes a questioning noise before falling through it. Wukong falls from at least a foot in the air down to the sand just a few steps from Y/N. The landing causes sand to splash up and Y/N quickly closes her book shielding it from the sand with a surprised yelp.

Y/N looks over seeing Wukong laying in the sand, “ Oh.” She says in surprise setting the book down and quickly getting up. She rushes over helping him up as he turns to the side spitting out a mouthful of sand, Y/N puts her hand up to her mouth trying to cover her laughing but it doesn’t work. “ I’m sorry Monkey King” Y/N laughs “ I didn’t mean to laugh at you.”, “ It’s alright.” He assures while brushing off his arms. “ You know, you could wash off the sand in the water?” Y/N offers with a smile “ I’m pretty sure Mei and MK are about 5 seconds away from dragging us in anyway. What do you say?”, Wukong looks at her in surprise but quickly finds himself frozen as he stares into her gorgeous Y/C eyes. After a few moments he realizes he’s been silent for too long, he clears his throat before nodding with a smile. “ Sure.” He says.

The two walk into the water, and almost instantly getting pulled into playing with Mei and MK ( with red son just a little bit away pretending he isn’t having fun). They end up spending just over an hour just messing around playing whatever water based games the kids want to play before heading back to the sand. Monkey King starts shaking off the water like a dog getting it all over Y/N, and Y/N just gives him a look of disbelief. Monkey King freezes and cringes realizing what he’s done, “ Oh, sorry.” He says. Y/N smiles and laughs waving off his apology assuring him it’s fine, she picks up the beach towel drying herself off before putting on her cover up. Just then, Tang starts yelling something about the snacks and drinks being gone. Y/N rolls her eyes, “ Fine, I’ll go get some more.” She calls before turning to the Monkey King “ Would you mind helping me?”. “ Of course.” He says, the two grab the drink cooler and the bag of snacks heading back up to Monkey King’s home.

The two make pleasant small talk on the way up to the temple and quickly pack up the snacks and drinks. Y/N reaches into her bag taking out her hairbrush, “ Here, while we’re up here might as well brush through your fur.” She says. “ Huh? What for?” Wukong asks confused, “ You don’t want it to get all matted and gross after being in the water do you?” She says. “ Oh, Uh..” he starts stuttering nervously and Y/N smiles, “ Here.” She gestures to the couch “ If you want I can brush it for you.”. “ Ok.” He says quietly and he avoids eye contact as he walks over taking a seat on the couch, Y/N starts brushing through his fur. The first minute or so Wukong is pretty tense out of nervousness, but he quickly starts to relax as she brushes through his hair. She takes a few minutes going through his arms back and head, and by the time she’s done his whole body is warm and relaxed- so much so he is almost asleep as she finishes up. “ There.” She says setting the brush down “ Just one more thing.”, he hums questioning with his eyes still closed and a content smile. It takes him a moment to process her lips are being pressed to his, his eyes shoot open in surprise as she pulls away and he could swear his heart stopped beating. He mind was racing a million miles a minute but all he could end up getting out was, “ I guess you heard Macaque and I talking, huh?”. Y/N chuckles at his surprise, “ Something like that.” She says smiling at him “ I had a feeling you’d be a little too nervous to make the first move, so I decided I would.”. He breathes out a sigh of relief and smiles, “ Well I appreciate that.” He says cupping both of her checks looking deep into her eyes “ Though I hope you won’t mind if I make the next one.”. Y/N smiles and nods, Wukong gently pulls her into another kiss. After a long few moments Wukong pulls her to sit in his lap tilting his head when he kisses her again deepening the kiss. After a few more passionate kisses Y/N pulls back resting her forehead against his breathing slightly heavily, after catching her breath she just smiles before wrapping her arms around him in a hug and nuzzles her head into his neck. “ You know, I’m glad to know you like me too.” She says, he hums in agreement giving her a light squeeze. The two stay like that for a few more moments before getting up and holding a hand out to help Wukong up, “ We should probably get back with the snacks before everyone starts getting angry.” She says helping him up. The two grab the snack and drink containers and Wukong holds out his hand, “ Shall we, m’lady?” He asks. Y/N smiles and takes his hand as they start back toward the beach.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Last sickfic! Can you believe that September's over?

Mood music that helped inspire the writing :)

Voted Sicktember prompt - Time cares for a delirious Warriors

The room was bathed in a warm, orange glow, but it couldn’t be colder. The light of candles danced merrily, but he couldn’t feel more somber.

Hands trembled as they reached out. Illness, the stench of it, ripped through the air.

The golden locks, usually fluffy and perfectly tamed, lay in tangled clumps, plastered to too hot skin. Lungs that usually bellowed with laughter or barked sharp orders were wheezing, pitifully letting air try to move through restricted passageways.

Since when had such battle-hardened warriors been bested by such an invisible enemy? Since when could a war go to a standstill as his army fell apart from the inside? He couldn’t let this happen, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

The once proud, tall warrior looked so small in the bed. The dependable captain had fallen, succumbing to something he couldn’t combat with a sword. A small part of Time squirmed in painful, righteous anger – of all the ways to die—

Pale, blue lips, sunken eyes, wheezing and vomiting. His troops were dying. His troops were dying and he couldn’t do a damn thing.

Warriors shuddered, eyes staring off into the void, his mind lost far, far away. He hadn’t slept in nearly four days due to his illness, and it was finally taking his mind as a result. Time did everything he could to soothe the captain’s anxiety as he tried once again to prop himself up in the bed. He’d already fallen twice getting out of bed – that was when the eldest Link had decided to stay in the room with Warriors. He couldn’t be left unsupervised, even in the safety of his own ranch.

The men looked to him for help, for answers. He couldn’t provide any. General Impa wasn’t here, the princess wasn’t here. It was just him and Lana, and she was doing all she could but—but it—

It wasn’t enough. And she was beginning to grow ill as well. And they couldn’t lose her.

“Help,” Warriors whimpered, confused eyes glistening with tears.

“I’m here,” Time immediately whispered, taking the younger man’s hands in his own. “I’m here, Link.”

They were all going to die. He couldn’t do anything to stop it. Would he die too? Was this how the Hero of Hyrule was destined to fall? He hadn’t even defeated the enemy. Would an illness take him? Would he disgrace his destiny in such a manner? How many lives would be lost because of it?

“I’m sorry.” The captain’s voice broke, actively crying. He stared at the ceiling. Time could only imagine who he was apologizing to.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, brushing hair out of the man’s face. “You’re okay. Don’t apologize.”

Warriors’ gaze remained distant. Wherever he was, Time couldn’t reach him. But he would try, blast it. He would try.

What if they all die because of me? What if… what if I don’t want to die?

I… I don’t want to die.

A sob choked with a cough, and Warriors’ face turned red as he gagged on phlegm and spit alike. Time stood, quickly turning the captain to the side so he could cough up whatever was stuck in his throat. The door to the bedroom creaked as the others peeked in worriedly. When Twilight caught Time’s eye, the elder shook his head, and the younger retreated, herding the others away.

The flame on the nearest candle flickered from Time’s movements and nearly went out. Time held his breath as he watched it a moment, hand on Warriors’ back. The flame pulled left and right, nearly extinguishing. Warriors’ breaths rattled as if death itself were stealing air from his lungs.

The wick slowly burned, flame settling in a stubborn pattern of gently rocking to and fro. Warriors took a deeper breath. Time released the one he’d been holding.

A hand brushed Time’s knee, and he looked down to see Warriors trying to crawl out of bed again, halfway off the mattress. Time bent down, hands wrapping around his arms just under his shoulders, and gently pulled the young man back to the center of the bed.

“Link,” Time said gently, kneeling to be at eye level with him. “We’re at the ranch. You’re safe. You’re very sick. You need to stay in bed.”

Soulless eyes stared into his own. The face was far too pale, the chest far too still. Would they all look like this? There wasn’t even blood. He was used to seeing blood.

Eventually the wick would burn to its end. Eventually the gentle light in the room would vanish. Would it last the night? Would it hold on to whatever it could grasp, burning away at what little remained? Would it stubbornly cling to life until the sun could rise?

“Captain,” Time said, louder. “Captain, come back to us.”

Warriors’ hand snaked around Time’s wrist, making the elder jump slightly.

Everything was so far away. So quiet, muffled, like he was buried alive. Goddess above, he didn’t want to die, please, he didn’t want to die. Not like this. Let him die on his feet, in battle, like it was meant to be.

It was meant to be like that, right?

“Help,” Warriors pleaded, eyes almost seeming to look at Time for the first time all night.

Time’s heart and stomach clenched. “I’m trying, Link.”

The candle abruptly went out.

Time’s head whirled to the nightstand, an irrational fear gripping his soul, and he immediately felt out for Warriors, who was trembling.

“Captain,” Time said warily, holding the man tighter. “Come on now, Link. Talk to me.”

Warriors grew still.

“Link,” Time pleaded, shaking him.

A warm glow filled the room alongside a cool breeze. Time blinked tears away, his distress hidden in the darkness that was quickly receding, and he saw the others in the doorway once more, a candle in each hero’s hand.

Twilight entered first, eyes flicking between Time and Warriors, face stony. The others filed in behind him, expressions far too eerily familiar to the night Time thought he would lose his descendant.

No one dared say a word. Time’s death grip on Warriors slackened only a hair, land he looked at the ground, unable to offer the others any comfort. The flames flickered brightly in the quiet night, holding the darkness at bay, encasing Warriors in light.

[bittersweet-adagio]

SEASON 39 | ROUND 12

assassination(?)

THIS IS REAL FUCKING ASS I PUMPED IT OUT IN 15 MINUTES IM UNPREPARED THERES LIKE NO LORE PREPARATION FOR THIS FEEL FREE TO SEND ASKS. IM SORRY also this is gonna be so fucking embarrassing if people end up voting for flor in the last hour or so…

This is how it was always meant to end. 

Vera will admit, she doesn’t really want to do this. She knows it’ll haunt her for the rest of her life. Unforgiving, burning like a flame deep in her stomach, searing through her lungs and throbbing at her heart.

Ellie won. Part of Vera wishes she had lost, just so she wouldn’t have to do this herself.

Ellie was Vera’s best friend. Her first love. Her universe. Her everything. Guardian Kora would never approve of it, and she knew that very well.

Vera doesn’t have very long. It’ll be over soon. She lets the sound of her heels reverberate around the stadium, watching as both Flor and Ellie turn around at the sight of her in her bloody wedding dress. Flor must be shocked she isn’t dead, surely?

Guardian Kora requested there be a wait before the execution on stage. No security guards are currently present. They will be, soon. This means that Vera has to go through with it. She has to, otherwise she’ll die with Flor and disappoint her mother. Her family. She’ll die with no honor.

“Vera?” Ellie asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Her pink dress flows in the wind. The bun in her hair had gotten a bit messed up in the performance, but it’s still pretty. Isn’t it?

“Close your eyes, Ellie.” Vera walks closer, hand behind her back. 

“Why are you here? You- You can’t be here. You need to get off the stage or they’ll—“

“Close. Your. Eyes. I don’t want you to look at me, please. Please don’t look at me, I’m so sorry.” Both of her hands drop to her sides. She carries a gun, heavy in her palm as it trembles in her grip.

“What? No, what are you doing? What’s happening? Vera, you’re scaring me, this isn’t your performance, get off the—“

The gun is immediately pointed at Ellie’s head. Vera’s hand shakes, and it’s like the world disappears around her. Nobody else exists but Ellie. Her love, her princess.

Vera hates death. She hates dying. So why did Guardian Kora have to send her out to ANAKT Garden for this purpose? To spread the name of her channel, to spout rumors and clout? All press is good press, after all. But is this really what she had to do?

The guards are coming.

She can’t do it. This is what it was always meant to be like. Vera was scared of befriending Ellie, her target since the beginning, much less fall in love with her. It didn’t help what they did together in ANAKT. Vera had said, “I’d like it if you lied to me, just this once, and kissed me as if you wanted me. I really love you, Ellie, I do.”

And who was Ellie to refuse?

It had always been that way. Ellie never felt anything for Vera, and that’s what made it hurt. She lied because Vera wanted her to. And now, Vera couldn’t explain anything to Ellie. Or to Khoi. Or anyone, for that matter. She’s gonna go fucking insane.

Vera turns over to Flor, smiles, and tells her, “Congratulations on making it to your next round,” before shooting Ellie straight in the head and running off the stage entirely.

She can’t see, but she can hear, all the 

murmurs and the running of the guards. This probably was a shock to them, huh? Bet they wondered what all this was for, especially from a guardian that was neither of the current contestants.

Do they regret it as much as Vera? She should’ve just said no and run away back when Kora told her what she had to do. For the buzz, she said. For the popularity of the channel, she said. For the health and wellbeing of Vera’s siblings, she said.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She just fucking shot the love of her life because she can’t bear the thought of all those lives on the line. Why couldn’t she say no? She could’ve ran, escaped, taken Ellie with her. They could’ve been happy.

Tears stream down Vera’s face, hot against her skin. She doesn’t know how long she has to run. She knows she can’t see her siblings again. She knows that now her life is going to go to absolute shit and that she probably won’t live for even a day after this event. The Agency for the Recovery of Escaped Pet Humans is probably going to track her down. She won’t live. But isn’t that what she wanted?

Deep down, she knows that isn’t true. She wants to live, desperately.

That will never happen now.

She’s sorry. She really is.

She drops her gun on the floor and sprints for her life, teardrops and bloodshed staining her beautiful white dress as she hopes that she can live as long as she possibly could. That way, at least the love she had would live longer than the person she felt it for.

not tagging lore people bc i think everyones finding this… but i will tag @sotogalmo to say that flor’s reaction is vague on purpose so you can add what she does and also @season39 so yk what i uh… what i did…

[mytardisisparked]

Car Games

A look at the ways Mulder and Scully pass the time on road trips.

Read on AO3

-

“Do you like car games?”

She looked up from the file in her lap, brows raised. “I’m sorry?”

He glanced over at her. “I, uh, wondered if you like car games. Y’know. Like, I Spy, or the License Plate Game.”

Scully took a deep breath, feeling a bit surprised. Her new partner was kind of interesting, the way he was so restless; it seemed to her that he was constantly moving, as though he thought the world would stop if he did. 

And yet, here he was, asking her if she enjoyed car games. 

“Um, I suppose. I played some with my brothers and sister when I was younger.”

He nodded. “Which one was your favorite?”

She took a deep breath. “Probably the License Plate Game.”

For a moment, he was quiet. “I don’t believe you.”

She whipped her head around to look at him. “Excuse me?”

He looked back at her, eyes dancing. “Oh come on, Scully. You grew up with three siblings. I refuse to believe the License Plate Game is your favorite.”

“Why would having siblings change that?”

He shrugged. “Siblings come up with messed-up games to play together. Or, really creative, unique ones. I bet you four had a really good one.”

She tilted her head at him, setting her jaw for a moment.

He was right, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. “Fine. We didn’t have a name for it, but we played this game where we would count how many animals were on our side of the car – usually Missy and I were on a team and Bill and Charlie paired up – and then if we passed a cemetery you would have to “kill” all your animals, “bury” them, and start over from zero.”

He smiled, not in arrogant triumph, but in a way that almost seemed impressed. “That’s a good one. Wanna play it?”

She wet her lips. “We don’t have to–”

“There’s a farm outside your window. Better hurry.”

With a small smile, she turned and started counting cows.

—

“‘W!’ I SEE A ‘W!’”

Mulder couldn’t help but laugh as Scully crowed out her victory. She was a whole 7 letters ahead of him in the Alphabet Game and, to be honest, he wasn’t mad about it.

She was competitive. She played it off well, but 7 hours into a road trip her calm, reasonable front started to slip and a Scully that seemed to strongly dislike losing came out to play. 

He glanced over at her, cheeks flushed with excitement and her eyes bright with good humor. She was getting more comfortable around him, just as he was with her.

“Okay, okay, we get it.” He shook his head in mock shame. “No one likes a bragger.”

She flashed him a smile. “I’m not bragging. I’m stating a fact.”

“Sure.” He focused outside, looking for road signs. “Have you ever lost the Alphabet Game?”

She was quiet for a minute. “No.”

He glanced at her. She was looking studiously out the window. 

“You hesitated.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

She took a deep, irritated breath. “Fine. Charlie beat me once on a technicality.”

Mulder nodded diplomatically. “On a technicality?”

“He and I saw a letter and called it at the same time. Bill and Missy were tired of me winning the game, so they voted Charlie the winner.”

Mulder barked out a laugh. “That sounds like less of a technicality and more like the democratic overthrow of a dictator!”

She spun to look at him, mouth open. “Excuse me?!”

He put up a hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, harsh metaphor.”

Scully licked her lips, and he saw their corners curl. “It’s… not that inaccurate. I could be a bit…”

“Competitive?”

“A bit.”

“Like right now?”

She smiled at him. “Oh no, nothing like right now.” She chuckled with a hint of pride. “I could be so much worse.”

Before Mulder could reply, she pointed past him out the window. “There’s an ‘X.’”

—

“I spy something…. brown.”

Scully sighed deeply.

“C’mon, Scully. Something brown. You’re gonna miss it.”

She threw him a look. “This is Texas, Mulder. Everything is brown.”

He opened his mouth for a second – as if to retort – and then seemed to think better of it.

Good.

The car was silent for a few moments, the air conditioner running at top speed to combat the heat outside. Their radio had gone out 30 minutes ago, leaving the AC and the sound of the tires on the road as their only music. The steady hum might have provided Scully with a fairly restful sleep, were it not for her eternally restless companion. Every few moments he seemed to pop up with something new to say, to comment on, to point out; she envied, in a way, his immunity to the lethargy of the heat and the hum and the rolling desert.

“It was a tumbleweed.”

She looked at him, brow furrowed. “Huh?”

He glanced at her quickly, as though trying to see how close to a line he was stepping. “The brown object. It was a tumbleweed.”

She sighed and turned back to the window. “Which one?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile and, despite herself, she bit back a smile of her own.

“It’s your turn, Scully.”

She wet her lips, feeling a crack in the bottom one; they had spent 2 full days in the dry heat and she had run out of chapstick before they had even left the airport to get their rental car. “Okay. I spy something brown.”

Even without looking at him directly, she could tell his face had just lit up.

“Is it that tumbleweed?” He pointed at a random one beside the road.

“No, it’s the one two to the left.”

“Rats. That was going to be my next guess.”

She finally allowed herself a small grin. “I’m sure it was.”

—

“It’s going to be really hard to find a ‘Hawaii’ license plate here in Ohio, I think.”

Mulder smiled. “You might be surprised, Scully. Ohio is a vacation destination.”

“Oh really?” She raised her brows. “Pray tell, what ‘destinations’ does the Buckeye State have to offer?”

He pointed out the window as she turned the car past a sign for Cuyahoga Valley National Recreation Area. “Well, look right there; there’s a national park here.”

“Hm, alright. What else?”

“Lake Erie.”

“Does it have beaches?”

“Probably.”

“Hmm.”

“The water’s probably too cold to swim in, though.”

“Says the boy from New England.”

He chuckled. “Are you egging me on, Scully?”

She tilted her head. “Maybe.”

He tilted his head, too. “You want to swim in a frigid lake?” When she shrugged, he grinned and went on. “Oh, I see, this is an excuse to see me in a bathing suit, huh?”

She threw a glare at him as she turned another corner. “You wish.” He couldn’t help but notice the red coloring that was slowly sneaking into her cheeks.

He smiled and left it at that.

He looked around out the windows again. “Maybe a nice family from Hawaii has their car parked at that Cheesecake Factory.” He nodded at a sign for one just off the road.

“We could go look after our meeting with the local PD.”

He smiled at her. “Sounds good to me. Even if we don’t find our last license plate we can at least get some cheesecake out of the deal.”

She glanced over at him, eyes bright. “You read my mind.”

—

“Mulder if you don’t stop fiddling with the dial, I’m going to drive us off the next bridge I find.”

Mulder looked up from the radio, motioning theatrically at the windows and the empty, rolling sand beyond. “Well, considering the fact that we’re in BFE New Mexico, I think you’ll be hard-pressed to find a bridge.”

He went back to trying to find a radio station as she groaned out loud.

“There’s no radio signal out here. Give it a rest. Please .”

He leaned back with a sigh. “Next time we come to the American Southwest I’m making a mixtape. We can play ‘Name That Tune.’”

Despite her earlier irritation, she felt a spark of curiosity. “What would you put on a road trip mixtape for us, Mulder?” She tried to put a bit of sarcasm in her voice to cover up her genuine interest.

“Well, ‘Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog’, for one.”

She shook her head. “The song is actually called ‘Joy to the World’ by Three Dog Night, and I’m not giving an encore performance.”

“Well, I suppose I can’t put it on anyway, now that I know I had the title wrong. You would automatically win.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the massive grin on his face.

“Fair enough. What else?”

“Hmm, maybe some Van Halen. A little Fleetwood Mac.” He sat back in the seat so he was turned towards her. “What would you put on a mixtape?”

She thought for a moment, and then the corners of her mouth turned up a smidge. “The Shaft theme song.”

Satisfaction settled soundly in her chest as she watched his jaw drop. “Scully! I know I didn’t sing that on that case–”

“Yes you did!”

“I did not!”

“Prove it!”

He gaped at her for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “You know, someday I will. I’ll get some kind of…. memory reader to go back in your memories and see that you made that up.”

She grinned triumphantly. “I can’t wait to see your face when this ‘memory reader’ tells you it really happened.”

Before Mulder could respond, the radio crackled back to life, and a slow song began coming through their speakers.

Scully pointed at the radio. “‘That’s the Way Love Goes,’ by Janet Jackson.”

Mulder let out a low whistle and pulled a small notebook out of his pocket. He wrote an M and an S at the top of the page, and made a mark under the S.

 “Point for Dana Scully.”

—

"Come on, Scully; Mothman, Bigfoot, or the Flatwoods Monster?" He tried to hide his smile as Scully’s brow furrowed rather cutely, a playful look of disgust on her face.

"I don't wanna kiss any of them, Mulder! Moths are dusty, Bigfoot is probably biologically close enough to humans to carry human diseases, and the Flatwoods Monster is probably dirty from being in the woods all day!"

He bit back a laugh. "I was in the woods all day today, you know."

"Yes. And I'm not kissing you until you shower." She set her mouth in a line, but he could still see the faint curl at the edge of her lips and the sparkle in her eye.

"Promise?"

She wet her lips and raised an eyebrow, giving him a long look. After a moment, she tilted her head. “I’d marry Bigfoot, kiss Mothman, and kill the Flatwoods Monster.”

Mulder clicked his tongue. “Interesting choices!”

“Well fine! What would you do?” She stopped trying to hide her smile. She’d been doing that more lately – smiling freely, flirting, laughing. Mulder liked it a lot.

“I’d marry Bigfoot, kiss the Flatwoods Monster, and kill Mothman.”

Scully let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, we can’t both marry Bigfoot.”

“Ah,” he smiled, “but Bigfoot could marry us. As the officiant.”

She looked at him again, this time her face was less readable. He could feel her studying him. He tried to keep his face neutral.

“Mulder, when I marry you there will be zero cryptids involved.”

He was surprised he didn’t pull a muscle, whipping his head around to look at her and see if she was serious.

When his eyes had stopped bugging out of his head enough to focus on her face, he saw that she was smiling mysteriously down at the sudoku puzzle book in her lap.