#Danny’s anxiety issues

[mayberrycryptid]

@trickster-archangel ooohhhhh, I ♥️ that analysis!!!!

More pics from H50 episode 8.10

Danny and Steve aged well.

Steve: “You’re the best thing ever happened to me.”

Danny: “Aside from arthritis and prostate issues, I know.”

Steve (sighs): “Danno, you’re the only constant in my life. Glad, you didn’t change.”

[lancteu]

i blame twitter

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Prompt (Should I be numbering these?)

Clark knocks on the glass of the Watchtower. It's a futile gesture in the vacuum of space, but the movement catches Phantom's eye and he drifts inside, slipping through the glass.

"Hey," he murmurs, not quite making eye contact.

"Hi," Superman says, resting his hip against the conference table. He pats it beside him and Danny floats down, criss-cross apple sauce. Clark wonders not for the first time if Danny died at 18 or if this is just the body he inhabits, not unlike Connor.

They both look out at the vast wonder of space for a moment.

"We made you uncomfortable," Superman says quietly. "I'm sorry."

Danny is quiet for a moment. He doesn't deny it.

"I thought Kon-El was your son," he says softly.

Superman blinks. When Danny blanched beyond his norm and flew from the room the group had assumed CADMUS' invasive experiments had struck too similar a chord to the GiW's actions. "Do you take issue with cloning?" he asks, feeling deeply hypocritical all things considered. That self awareness gentles his tone but Danny still shoots him a glare at the not-quite accusation.

"No," he spits out. He sags, an awareness in his own eyes. "No, of course not."

His eyes are far too telling and Superman takes a hard seat on the table beside him.

"Oh," he says. He just barely keeps the horror from his voice. He is a grown man, but Phantom lies somewhere between the ages of 4 (his first dated appearance in modern time) and thousands of years old (his first recorded appearance) and his visage is too young for Clark to ever be comfortable assuming the latter.

"Yeah," Phantom says, staring down at his lap.

"Then...why?"

"You act like you're Kon's father," Phantom says. "I never thought about it like that."

"It's complicated," Superman offers, because it's all he can say, because it is not appropriate to demand details, to potentially trigger trauma, no matter how badly he wants to punch someone. Not right now at least. And because while some part of him has healed enough to find warmth in the title, his early actions will never truly make him worthy of it. "In some ways he's more like my brother. Jon considers him an uncle. My parents...they stepped up when I did not."

"But biologically he is your child," Danny says sharply, and the sharpness is not directed at Clark. "He is of you, and she is of me." Clark's inhale is distinct but Danny continues on without acknowledgement. "And I always felt strange about it, I always felt like I treated her differently, but I never put a name to it. I let it be and I let her go." He presses a hand to his chest, to the right of where his heart would be. "But she was mine. She is mine."

"Danny," Superman says quietly. "What do you want to do?" And how can I help?

Danny looks up at the vast wonder of space, and then his eyes flick down and Superman realizes he has not been looking at his lap at all. He's been looking at Earth.

With fear. With anxiety.

With hope.

"I want to find my daughter."

[too-much-tma-stuff]

As Long as we can Hold On (Part 20)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

tw: descriptions of violence, gun violence, gore

It was bitter sweet to return home after the week away, mostly to return to the Gotham weather and constant overcast skies. Danny would miss the stars, even though he was very glad to be home and to hit the streets and patrol their haunt again making sure that everything had gone alright in their absence. Everything seemed calm but Danny had a bad feeling and his gut instincts were usually pretty good, something was off. Whatever it was he was sure he would find out soon since they had a meeting scheduled with their various lieutenants and  other people of note the next day just in case them being missing for a week had inspired any… ideas. 

The next monthly meeting with their lieutenants and dealers was in two days so there was no point bumping it up. That gave them a couple of nights to settle in and to do a couple more low-key patrols to sooth Danny’s anxiety about potential issues in their haunt that always reared its head when they were away for more than an overnight. It soothed his restless spirit to confirm their haunt and nest were still as they had left them. The first night back in their bed, after a patrol, Danny just couldn’t stop purring snuggled against Jason’s chest, feeling the very edge of responding hum even as Jason teased him about it.

Danny slept well tucked in his own bed and his lover's arms, and by the time they had to meet with their subordinates Danny felt settled in his own skin again though something still itched at the back of his mind. He and Jason got to the meeting location, one of the warehouses that had been set up as a sort of boardroom, first and were there to greet people as they came in. Once everyone was settled in their assigned seats, in various stages of ready for a professional meeting with a folder of papers, and sulking with their feet on the table, Red Hood and Hyena went to stand at the head of the table. 

“Alright I want everyone’s reports,” Red Hood said, his voice distorted and almost inhuman through the modulator. “And don’t leave anything out, I have eyes everywhere so I probably already know.” 

Before the first person stood up to give their report Danny’s ears twitched at the sound of a small click. Years ago he would have thought nothing of the sound, but being with Hood he had become intimately familiar with the sound of the safety being taken off a gun. His head turned sharply, just in time to see a man they had thought was loyal level a gun at Red Hood.

“Look out!” Hyena yelped and jumped in front of Hood, there was a bang and everything went dark. 

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

The executioner shots weren’t perfect since they hadn’t been meant for Danny, the shot to the forehead took out one of Hyena’s eyes and the shot meant for the heart went through a lung. But the result was the same, Hyena was dead, and not the intended target. He collapsed to the ground in a puddle of blood, one remaining eye vague and unseeing as the room was filled with gasps and at least one scream. The would-be assassin tried to flee, stumbling away from the table and knocking over his chair before Red Hood’s bullet found him, shattering his knee and sending him to the floor, howling in pain.

“You and you, bring him up here,” Hood said, his voice cold and flat as he pointed to two of his other subordinates who scrambled to obey. After just being betrayed and losing his partner they were sure any hint of disobedience or hesitancy would earn them the same slow, painful death Red Hood surely had planned for the turncoat. “You, bring up the chair,” he ordered a third, who obeyed as well.

Everyone sat in nervous silence as Hood tied the assassin to his chair and then just… waited. And waited, the tension in the room rising and rising the longer the only sound in the room was heavy breathing and the injured man’s whimpering.

“Um, Boss? What are you going to do to him?” Someone spoke up hesitantly when the silence became too oppressive. 

“Me? Nothing, Hyena will want to handle this,” Hood said calmly. 

Around the table various gangsters and outlaws gave each other nervous looks, it seemed like Hood really couldn’t process the loss of his lover. Neither of them had seemed entirely sane, but he couldn’t believe that Hyena was still alive with part of his head missing?!

“Boss, I don’t think he can do that. I think he’s-” Someone started, as gently as possible, before being cut off by a fucking horrifying rattling breath. 

“God damn it,” Hyena wheezed, blood dribbling from his lips with his words as he pushed himself up. His one eye was still missing but the other was bright with life and rage again as he glared at the man who’d shot him. “Do you know how long eyes take to regenerate? And that fucking hurt!” 

Someone fainted, but Hyena seemed completely unaware of the wave of horror that spread through the room as he stood with injuries clearly incompatible with life. His attention was fixed on his would-be (Should be) murderer as he stumbled forward towards them. He whimpered and shrunk even further back in his chair but couldn’t get away as Hyena slumped into his lap. 

“I’ve worked so hard to keep this a secret and act like a normal human and you fucking ruined it!” Hyena snarled, clapping his hands together with a crackle of electricity before pressing them against his attacker’s chest, who screamed as electricity surged around both of them before fading into sparks. 

“Welcome back My Love,” Hood laughed, stepping forward and running his fingers through Hyena’s hair without fear even before all the sparks had faded. 

Hyena grinned under his muzzle and leaned into Red Hood’s hand, before turning his head away from their audience to hide his face as he lifted his muzzle to spit out a mouthful of blood and something that glowed green. “Right,” He practically gargled looking back at their captive. “Who put you up to this?”

“I-I was working on my own-” He started before Hyena electrocuted him again, cutting off his words. 

“Wrong answer,” Hyena snarled. “You’re not imaginative enough to have thought of this on your own,” He said with a horrifyingly wet laugh. 

“I-I-” He stuttered, eyes flicking around frantically, looking to their audience, as if any of them were going to save him! Hood and Hyena had been terrifying enough before they found out Hyena was apparently a meta! And surely a powerful one at that if he could survive a fetal injury like that, and regeneration clearly wasn’t even his only power!

“Cat got your tongue? Here, let me help you loosen it,” Hyena cackled, starting to rub his hands together and generate sparks again. 

“No!” He yelped, shrinking back in the chair he was tied to. “It was Penguin! He said he’d make me a millionaire, and even if I died he’d give the money to my family. My girl is pregnant, I just wanted a good life for them.” 

“Save it with the excuses,” Hood snapped before resting both hands on Hyena’s shoulders, causing him to shake his hands dispelling the sparks. “Penguin huh? Ballsy of him, didn’t expect that to be honest. I thought he was more soft power then trying to make moves on other crime bosses like that these days,” He hummed. 

“We’re going to have to teach him a lesson aren’t we Boo?” Hyena nearly purred as the hole in his head finally started to fill back in. 

“Oh absolutely~ We’ll make him regret messing with us. Now what about this one? Should I kill him or do you want the honour?” Hood asked Hyena. 

“You go ahead,” Hyena shrugged, sliding off off the other man’s lap and rolling his shoulder to stretch out the brand new flesh and chunk of lung his body had finished generating. 

“No nonono please I’ll be a double agent! I can get you info, Please don’t-” He begged, though he should have known better after hurting Hood’s partner. Honestly he couldn’t have been very bright to think that there was ever any way that he was going to make it out of this alive. Even if he had managed to kill Hood, Hyena would have ripped him apart for it too. His pleas were cut off in a gurgle as Hood shot him through the throat, silencing his voice and making him gurgle on his own blood. 

“Get him out of the way please Beloved,” Hood asked Hyena, who stepped forward and easily picked up the man, who was significantly larger than him and tossed him into a corner to slowly bleed out or drown on his own blood. “Right, moving on, I want to hear your reports.” Red Hood said matter of factually, gently ushering Hyena into a chair and standing behind him with his hands on Hyena’s shoulders.  

They watching intently as everyone took a turn standing on shaking legs to deliver their reports, trying to ignore the gurgling breaths of the man dying in the corner, and not look at Hyena’s slowly regenerating eye. By the time Hood was satisfied everyone was still loyal, and suitably scared, and dismissed them Hyena was completely healed and the wet gasping from the corner had faded into silence. 

“No one speaks about what happened in this meeting. At least not until after we have dealt with Penguin,” Hood ordered as everyone stood up and gathered their things. “If he has warning that we’re coming there aren’t so many of you that we can’t follow up with each of you… individually,” He warned darkly, watching intently as they all filed out. 

Once they were alone he felt Hyena’s shoulders relax a little under his hands. Jason relaxed too, that was the first attempt on his life he had gotten in a while and he didn’t like it. He couldn’t say he was strictly surprised, attempted murder was sort of part of the crime lord gig after all, but he was still affected by it. And Danny even more so he was sure, since he had come dangerously close to losing Jason.

“How do you feel, Moonlight?” Jason asked gently, sitting down and drawing Danny onto his lap. 

“Like I want to bring Penguin's precious tacky empire down around his traitorous ears,” Danny hissed, pressing his face into Jason’s chest. 

Jason ignored the blood being smeared onto his shirt in favour of holding Danny and combing his hands through his lover’s dark hair. “Are you sure? Regenerating that much must have taken a lot out of you, especially in your human form. If you’re tired revenge can wait till tomorrow.”

“No! I want to do it now. Unless you want to think of a more subtle plan then just storming into the club where he is and confronting him head on?” Danny asked looking up at Jason curiously, deferring to him as usual. He wanted revenge, but he would control that if Jason wanted o be diplomatic. 

“Oh no, a full on assault sounds perfect to me,” Jason assured with a distorted laugh. “But that would mean exposing most, if not all of the powers that you have access to in this form and you’ve been so adamant about keeping them secret. Are you sure you want to do this? Wait, don’t answer that now. Whether we do it or not we have to go home first to get cleaned up, change clothes, and pick up some more weapons. Answer me once you’ve had a shower and you’re in some clean clothes without holes in them.”

“Alright,” Danny sighed and got up from Jason’s lap, offering him a hand up. “Let’s go home now then. Do we want to do anything with that body?” 

“No, no point. Someone will probably come clean it up later and if it is found all the witnesses know better hen to say anything if they value their fucking skin.” Jason chuckled, getting a slightly shaky smile from Danny in return as he led the way out of the warehouse and to his bike. 

The drive home passed in silence but when they got home Jason could see that the set of Danny’s jaw had only gotten more stubborn. As he headed into the bathroom he grabbed a spare Hyena suit instead of normal clothes. Alright so they really were doing this tonight. 

As the shower ran Jason rushed around their apartment gathering weapons and his suit with extra armour, but also the engagement rings he’d picked out and the new gloves he’d been working on in secret. He had a feeling this would be the perfect opportunity, something true to them while they were protecting what was important to them. And a political move as well, once Penguin rebuilt they could claim his club as a place important to them as well so they could spend more time there keeping an eye on the slimy little fucker. 

By the time Danny was back in costume and back out of the bathroom Jason was ready to go. He didn’t bother reminding Danny to grab any weapons since he knew very well his lover was perfectly capable of ripping through an army with his bare hands, and they left again without having to say a single word and they were on their way to the Iceberg Lounge. 

Jason skidded to a halt outside the lounge and Danny dismounted first, stalking towards the entrance. The bouncers tried to intercept of course, telling him to wait, but Danny froze them in their tracks and broke one of their arms when they tried to reach for their weapon. Then they were in, Jason drawing his guns as Danny pushed open the doors and shot two of the speakers with blasts of ice cutting the volume of the music in half. 

“We have business with Penguin,” Jason announced loudly to the room.

“If any of you don’t want a part in this fight please file out in an orderly fashion,” Danny said, taking a half step to the side and mockingly bowing people towards the door. There was a quick exodus after that, which was a relief, they didn’t want any collateral damage to innocents if they could help it. 

“Red Hood, what is the meaning  of this?” It wasn’t Penguin, it was one of his lieutenants, they did not want to talk to her. 

“Did you know about the Penguin's attempt on my life? I assume not or you would damn well know while we’re here,” Red Hood snarled at her, sending a ripple of gasps through the people who were left. 

“No he did not!” Harley gasped slamming her hands on the table and standing making Danny jump. He hadn’t realized that Harley and Ivy were here tonight. But hey, having some friends to pack them up just in case, and to make them seem like more of a threat, could only be for the better.

“Yes he fucking did! We got it out of the attempted assassin before we killed him. So we have a bone to pick with Penguin, get him out here or we will tear down this entire building,” Danny snarled. 

“And we’ll help,” Ivy said, rising gracefully from their table and going to stand behind Jason and Danny, with Harley stomping along at her heels. 

“Actually I think we should bring the building down whether he comes out or not, just to send a message,” Red Hood said dryly. 

“What a good idea Boo~” Hyena cackled, before grabbing one of the metal stools and throwing it through one of the windows. He picked up a chair and ripped the leg off, and handing it to Harley to use as a bat so she could start her own path of destruction. 

It seemed that was as much unfettered destruction as they were going to be allowed as a well trained looking troupe of bouncers came rushing in and Jason locked on to them. He was sure they were wearing bullet proof vests so he didn’t bother with body shots, he was perfectly capable of disabling them without killing them, and they were just doing their jobs. Hyena threw up a shield of ice around them, leaving Jason a window to fire through. 

“Damn I didn’t know you could do that,” Harley muttered to Hyena. 

“I can do a lot more than that,” Hyena laughed. 

“Focus please both of you,” Ivy said as she sent a wave of plants out, cracking the tiles as they rushed towards the people shooting at them and soon the room was filled with the screams of those Jason had shot and the silence of those unfortunate enough to have been dealt with by Ivy instead. 

Danny dropped the shields of ice freeing him and Harley again to cause more visceral and hands on chaos. It was amazing to see them work as Hyena practically flew over the bar to start smashing bottles of alcohol and Harley rushed off to smash whatever she could get her hands on with her makeshift bat. 

“Come on out Penguin, answer for what you’ve done,” Hood called as he reloaded his guns. He knew there would be at least one more attempt to force them out first, maybe he even had some metas on payroll, but they were not going anywhere. “We’re not going to kill you. We just want to talk, make sure you know what you did was wrong. The longer you take the more you’re going to have to replace, the more people you send out after us the more medical bills you’re going to have to pay.” He was sure Penguin was watching on the cameras from whatever nuke proof bunker he had squirreled himself away in. Hopefully he had his listening ears on. 

Apparently not because instead of Penguin the people who came through the doors next were a group of metas, and it seemed like Hyena had lost his patience. He was the one to leap into action, jumping from the ground floor up to balcony where they had entered, skipping the stairs entirely to get at them. They weren’t expecting him to come in so quickly and one was down before they had the chance to respond and Hyena had blood on his claws, his eyes glowing green as he snarled inhumanly. The remaining metas fell back a little, looking nervous and unsure, whatever confidence they’d had before rattled in the face of his ferocity. 

“Alright that’s enough,” Penguin’s voice rang out, he was trying very hard not to sound or look rattled, but he was out of breath and his hair was ruffled like he had run there. “I assure you I have no idea what you’re talking about, I would have never gotten involved in underground politics like that and shame on you for-” he yelped as Hyena grabbed him and jumped down from the balcony again, ripping his cane out of his hand and tossing it aside as he dragged the offending villain back to Hood like a hunting dog with a hare. 

“Is that so? Nothing to do with it?” Hood drawled, the projected eyes on his helmet narrowing as Hyena held Penguin in front of him. 

“Yes! Nothing at all!” Penguin insisted, though there was nervous sweat visible on his brow, matting his bangs to his forehead already. He tried to shrug off Hyena’s grip but he wouldn’t budge. “Unhand me you, Ow!” He yelped as Hyena tightened his grip to the point the boned in Penguin's arms creaked ominous. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’ve given Hyena permission to go all out with his powers tonight, and I’m sure you understand an attempt on my life already has him very upset,” Hood drawled curiously. “If you didn’t send him, why would he have said your name under torture?” 

“I’m sure I don’t know! You and I both have plenty of enemies who might have made a play against both of us simultaneously,” Penguin simpered. “It would be win win for them, either he killed you or you killed me and either way there would be a player taken off the board right? Surely there are plenty of people you can think of who might want that?”

Hood didn’t believe it, but he couldn’t deny it, and he didn’t want to kill Penguin if he could help it because that would leave a power vacuum in the underground that he wasn’t actually interested in filling. He sighed and subsided back a bit, which was Hyena’s queue to lessen, though not release, his grip on Penguin. “Well that’s a little disappointing, here we were planning to make an example of you,” He said, his gaze sweeping over the entirely ruined lounge, broken and stained with blood. “Though I suppose in a way we did, and I hope you’ll remember this too, if you ever do get any stupid ideas.”

“Yes of course! But this is going to cost so much to repair! Coming barging in here without any proof-” Penguin started to fuss. 

“Pengoo!” Hood interrupted with false friendliness. “Be glad we’re letting you leave with your life, and shut the fuck up.”

Penguin looked like he’d bitten into a lemon, but he did shut up, and when Hyena let him go he darted away quickly. 

“Good, with that out of the way. Hyena I’ve been meaning to ask you something, and here after watching how fiercely you defend me and defend out home, in the presence of a couple of our best friends, and romantic role models,” He winked at Harley and Ivy. “I just can’t think of a better time to ask. So,” He got down on one knee and pulled out the ring box from his bag. “Will you marry me?”

Danny gasped and covered his muzzle with both hands, next to them Ivy smiles softly and Harley bounced on her toes and tried not to squeal. Tears gathered in Danny’s eyes and Jason barely had time to brace himself before Danny was diving into his arms. “Yes!” He yelped enthusiastically. “Yes yes of course I’ll marry you! Yes of course!” He said before finally backed up so Jason could take off one of his glove and slide the ring onto his finger and then dove back into Jason’s arms making him laugh as he picked Danny up and spun him around. 

“HELL YA!!” Harley screeched and practically tackled both of them.

“Darling let the young lovers have their moment,” Ivy chided affectionately though she made no attempt to pry her away from Hood and Hyena since they were both laughing as well. 

“Congratulations to the happy couple,” Penguin butted in bitterly. “Now get out of my club, feel free to come by for a complimentary drink to celebrate, whenever I get this place open again.” He huffed, but this time they were willing to leave and go find somewhere better, and more private, to celebrate.

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

By the time they got home they were both exhausted, and just a little bit tipsy since Harley had insisted they had to get some drinks to celebrate. They tumbled into bed together, giggling and almost deliriously happy to finally have the masks off and be able to kiss each other properly, and they did, for a long time. Finally they just lay together, legs tangled together as Danny purred tiredly. It had been a very long day, but there was one more emotional thing they needed to get through. 

“Danny?” Jason asked. Danny responded with a questioning hum. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do after I die?” He asked, and backtracked when Danny immediately tensed. “Not any time soon! I’m certainly not planning on dying any time soon! But you said you're functionally immortal right? So you’re going to outlive me. What are you going to do?” 

Danny relaxed again slowly and then sighed softly. “I’ll stay with you,” He said softly, nuzzling against Jason’s chest. 

“You can’t-!”

“Not like that! But I’m half dead, I have access to the afterlife. And you’ve been around me enough, and I give off enough death energy that I can feel you becoming a little bit liminal. It won’t affect you much, but it pretty much guarantees you’ll become a ghost when you die, and a decently powerful one at that. You'll be with me in the Infinite Realms so unless you want death to do us part, it doesn't have to.” 

“What's a liminal?” Jason asked, he understood what most of Danny said meant but he needed a little clarification. 

“It basically means that your living soul inside your body is starting to develop a ghost core before death. If it happens early enough in development people tend to get some ghostly traits in their living bodies but it doesn't affect adults as much,” Danny explained willingly. 

“Huh,” Jason sounded, taking a moment to process all the new information before smiling slightly. “I guess we'll have to change our wedding vows won't we?” 

“Ya, from death do us part to ‘as long as we can stand each other’,” Danny joked, though Jason could hear the insecurity under his words. The silent ‘as long as you can stand me.’

“How about, as long as we can hold on to each other,” Jason suggested instead and Danny's smile softened and became more sincere. 

“Ya, I like the sound of that.”

[monzabee]

the first monday in may – dr3

masterlist || part 1 ||

Summary: The one where you and Daniel make your first outing as a couple at this year's Met Gala.

Pairing: daniel ricciardo x actress!reader

Word Count: 4288

Warnings: cursing, mentions of anxiety and medication, apart from that none?? fluffity fluff fluff

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i wrote this on a train and a plane, so if you see any grammar issues or typos or a sentence which doesn’t make any sense, no you didn’t. after mr daniel blessing us with his met look, i just knew i had to write something for it, so i really hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it! please know that feedback is always appreciated and my inbox is always open for you guys!! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

A loud groan leaves your lips at the sound of the alarm, your hand reaching out to get a hold of your phone, but accidentally hitting something someone else. Daniel groans as you repeatedly try to hit the snooze button on his chest, and he tries to stop you by grabbing your wrist which is moving too quickly for his morning reflexes. 

“Sweetheart– ow– Y/N,” he lets out a frustrated groan as he tries to turn away from you, “please stop hitting me.” 

Thankfully for him, you choose to listen to his request as you roll away from him in an attempt to cover your ears with your pillow. “Make it stop, Danny.” 

“Okay, just– gimme a second.” His voice is still thick from sleep, coming off more as a mumble than anything else, and his moves are sluggish as he reaches over you to turn off the alarm you’ve set the night before. “Here, done,” he breathes out as he lets himself fall back to his side of the bed, sideways, and breathy from moving quickly while still half-asleep. “Sweetheart, take your head out of there, you’re going to suffocate yourself.” Daniel mumbles, trying to coax you with this fingers leaving feathery touches on your arm and his lips leaving small kisses on the exposed skin of your neck. A lazy grin forms on his lips as you mumble something incoherent underneath your pillow, “I can’t understand you; you know.”

Your moves are almost jerky as you lift your head up and turn your body backwards to shoot him a sleepy glare, “I don’t want to wake up, let me sleep.” You go back to hugging your pillow as you close your eyes, your whiny voice making Daniel chuckle. “Stop laughing at me!”

“I can’t help it, you’re so grumpy in the mornings.” He continues to chuckle and proceed to sit up on the bed with his back against the headboard. “Pass me the phone?” 

“You’re evil,” you mumble, reaching to the bedside table to retrieve his phone and turn towards him to hand it, “what time is it anyway?”

Daniel turns the phone on, his eyes burning due to the brightness of the screen as he recites, “6.30.”

“What kind of a person, in their right mind, would want to wake up in this damn hour?” You groan, hand reaching out to touch him in any way possible. 

“You said you wanted to work out before all the commotion, sweetheart.” 

You can hear his smile through his voice, which makes you finally open your eyes in irritation – though all your grumpiness disappears when your eyes level with his thigh. Your fingers move without their own volition as they start tracing through the helmet design of his tattoo, “Don’t listen to me, I’m crazy.” 

“I thought I was the crazy one,” he reminds you, moving his eyes from the screen of his phone and flexing the muscles on his upper thigh to draw out an appreciative sigh from you, “eyes up here, Y/LN.” 

You push your bottom lip out in a pout as you meet his eyes. “You know how it makes me feel like when you call me by my last name.” 

“Your libido honestly concerns me.” He shakes his head, satisfied when he sees a small smile snaking its way on your lips, his voice is warm as he says, “Good morning, sweetheart.” 

Pressing a soft kiss to the skin of his upper thigh, which is exposed thanks to his habit of sleeping without pants. You keep your eyes on his as you straighten up and press another kiss to his lips, resting your chin against his shoulder afterwards. “Good morning to you too, honey.” 

He smiles, leaning down to give you a full bodied kiss which leaves you yearning for more; you seek him out as you follow his retreating form, which makes him smile wider as he gives into your wish. The kiss you share might be sweet starting out, but he knows better than to let you keep on going when you nip at his bottom lip. So, being the gentleman he is, he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours as he mumbles, “I take it back, you are very sweet in the mornings.” 

The giggle he hears back from you is enough for him to know that this is the window he needs to take advantage of to get you out of bed, knowing that there is absolutely no way you’ll actually work out this morning. He successfully coxes you out of bed with promises of breakfast and morning coffee, directing you to the en-suite attached to your bedroom to help you with your morning routine. He holds your hair as you brush your teeth when it makes you frustrated because of the way it keeps getting in front of your face, and he watches you as you wash and apply numerous products on your face; moisturiser, eye cream, sun screen, and even stays still as you apply some on his face because “You should be treating yourself, especially today, Danny.” You hug him from behind and rest your face against his back as he brushes his own teeth, rambling about the day ahead of both of you. He makes sure to put on sweatpants and a t-shirt before going downstairs with you into the kitchen to make you breakfast and coffee as he promised, not in that order. You sit on the counter next to his work station as sip on your coffee and watch him prepare breakfast; he sings an old eighties song in an awfully off pitch, which makes you smile into the cup and let him steal some of the coffee from it. The two of you have your breakfast against the view of New York City, which is starting to become more and more alive as the time goes on. 

“Are you excited for today?” He asks you, leaning against the back of the couch – the two of you are seated on the floor behind it to watch the city scape. 

“Honestly?” You take a pause to try to choose the right words. “The only reason I’m remotely excited about it is because I know you’re going to be there. Are you excited?” You nudge him with your shoulder as you give him a playful grin. “The Daniel Ricciardo is making his Met Gala debut; how does it feel to be a rookie again?”

“Ha-fucking-ha,” he mockingly laughs, rolling his eyes at the sound of your laugh getting louder with a small smile forming on his lips, “I am excited, and I think we’re both going to have a lovely night.” 

Your laughter continues as you poke him on his cheek repeatedly, making him join you as he starts laughing. “Look at you, being all optimistic and stuff.” 

He pulls you over his lap, which ends you half-way straddling his thighs as you rest your hands on his shirt clad chest. “I’m the personification of sunshine, and don’t you ever forget it.” 

The rest of the morning is spent with hushed whispers shared between you two, lazily cleaning up the kitchen to the sounds of an old record you found in your parents’ attic and took it back with you to your apartment in New York. Daniel still tries to keep up with the lyrics of the sound in his awfully off-pitched voice, claiming that he is not hearing what you claim would make “the Phantom of the Opera cry.” It’s an awfully domestic scene, a routine the two of you have been perfecting for a while since meeting each other, but it’s interrupted when the two of you hear the front door open, followed by a; “You better be awake and ready to go because I am not dealing with traffic today.” 

You smile knowingly at Daniel before calling out, “In the kitchen!” 

“Hi, Rosa, you want some coffee?” Daniel asks the woman, who enters into the kitchen with an angry look on her face. He gives you a peck on your forehead and moves towards the coffee machine without waiting for her answer, since he anticipates it’s going to be affirmative. 

“Oh, he’s good.” Rosa mumbles, pointing to the man who hands her the cup. 

The two of you share another laugh as Daniel returns to his position behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “Are you okay, Rosa?” You ask her as you try to get some of the pastries you had earlier ready for her. 

“People are particularly stupid this morning, it must be in the air.” Your assistant mutters as she digs into the croissant, sighing as she takes her first bite. “You are an angel; they should consider you for the Nobel prize at some point in the future.”

“The least I can do is feed you,” you shrug, jumping slightly when Daniel squeezes your waist ever so slightly as a reminder to take the compliment – you turn to give him a look which makes it very clear for him to see you rolling your eyes. “How many photographers are there downstairs?”

“I love it when she refers to them as photographers, don’t you?” Rosa asks Daniel, and then turns her attention to you to answer your question, “A lot, which is why I need you to go get dressed so we can be early for your last fitting.” 

You begrudgingly leave Daniel’s arms as you make your way towards the stairs and warning the two, “Do not gossip about me when I’m gone.” 

“Wouldn’t dare dream of it, sweetheart.” Daniel nods with fake seriousness, laughing as you roll your eyes at him and poke your tongue before running up the stairs to get ready. 

After managing to get ready in record time and making sure you have all the necessities for the day, you go back downstairs to say goodbye to your boyfriend for the day. There is a heavy look in his eyes as he cups your cheeks between his hands and tilts your head back to take a good look in your eyes. 

“Don’t forget to call me if you’re feeling overwhelmed, okay?” Daniel asks, which comes off more as an assurance rather than a question. “Do you have everything you need?” 

“I do, Danny.” You assure him, hands gripping the front of his shirt. “I’ll see you at the carpet, right?” 

“Yeah,” his whisper hitting your lips as he repeats, “I’ll see you at the carpet.” After he gives you a final sweet kiss on the lips, which is interrupted by Rosa screaming for you to be quick, there is a dopey grin on his lips as he watches you walk away. “Who are you going to be wearing, again?” He asks, leaning against the counter. 

You roll your eyes at his attempt to learn more about your dress – both of you having agreed not to show each other what you’re going to be dressed in just to enjoy the mystery of it all, you only know the designers both of you are going to be dressed in. “I’ll be the one in Chanel!” You call out to him as you walk out the door. 

It’s not that you hate getting ready, not at all. In fact, you love sitting in a chair for three consecutive hours without having to make any moves as the light is shining in your eye. You’re glad to endure the entire process with your team, though, who manage to make the time go faster by continuously talking to you and helping you take your mind off of the anxiety starting to form at the back of your mind. Not only do you have to get ready for one of the most publicly scrutinised events of the year, you’re going to be wearing a dress which you cannot, under any circumstances, spill something on or harm in any way – and the top it all off, your entire process of getting ready is being filmed for one of the most watched YouTube channels of the most famous fashion magazine. So yes, the anxiety you’re starting to feel is not displaced at all. 

The makeup-hair-nail extravaganza is interrupted by a delivery, which Rosa doesn’t allow you to go receive at the door in your robe, so while she handles the delivery, you’re stuck with three pairs of curious eyes.

“I wonder who it could be from.” Rosa smiles covertly as she hands you the flowers and the small package that is wrapped up in a bag. 

You try to appear cool in front of everyone – but fail miserably as you mumble, “I wouldn’t know, I haven’t read the card yet.” After placing the vase full of colourful flowers onto the table, you spot a card attached which you take off and hold it close to your chest in a playful manner as you read it out loud, “‘You’re my celebrity girl crush’”.

“Is that supposed to be an inside joke?” Mark whispers loudly to Rosa who’s standing next to him as he peruses his make-up bag to find the right colour for your blush. 

“Oh who cares?” Your hair artist, Miranda, sighs behind you. “He sent her flowers! Open the box, open the box.” 

You roll your eyes at their antics as you open the small box that was in the bag, revealing three thin gold bands, which are decorated by small diamonds. A gasp comes from the man next to you, who is shaking his head in approval as he points to the ring box. “Oh he’s good, they are gorgeous!”

“You know what they say,” you mumble, smiling softly, “all good things come in three’s.” 

Rosa gives you a mischievous look, “Isn’t Daniel’s driver’s number three, Y/N?” 

You can feel the blush coming onto your cheeks as you wave your assistant off and duck your head slightly to get away from the amused looks of your colleagues, “Stop it.” 

After hours of preparation and shooting, followed by the task of getting you into your dress for the evening (which involved lacing up a very stubborn corset) and a round of  “Should the hair be up or down”, you’re finally leave after completing the last touches of your look. You try your best at standing still as you let Miranda fasten the headpiece onto your hairdo, which she manages to complete pretty quickly. The trek to the car is chaotic to say the very least, but you manage to do your best as you walk through the doors of your hotel and smile at the flashing cameras and shouting fans while you walk to the van. Having to stand in the van in order not to damage the form of the dress you’re wearing, you think the worse part of the night is over – the only thing you have to do is meet Daniel on the carpet, pose, go up the stairs and enjoy the rest of the night; easy. Which is exactly why you end up close to losing your mind when the car suddenly stops moving. 

“Oh my god, please tell me we didn’t just stop in the middle of the road.” Rosa mumbles from her seat. 

You take a deep breath as you answer, “I’m sure we didn’t stop in the middle of the road–”

“There are protestors on the street, in front of the other car.” The driver replies from the front seat. 

“Wh-who’s in the car front?” You ask Rosa, confused, as she furiously types away on her phone. 

“Paris Hilton,” she mumbles, looking up at you, “I’m sure we’ll be there on time, just a bit delayed. I need you to keep calm, okay?”

The whine that leaves your lips has her looking at you worried, “I need– can you please give me my phone?” 

She hands you your phone from her bag per your request, watching you struggle with your phone. “Y/N, do you need to take your medicine? Just to calm your nerves down a little bit?” 

“No, they make me sleepy.” You mumble, finally finding his contact and calling him, “I’m fine I just need to tell Daniel.” 

“Sweetheart.” His voice filling your ears as you take a deep breath. “Oh my god, you didn’t tell me how crazy it was in here!”

The excitement in his voice is enough to calm some of your nerves, “Yeah, you’re having fun?” 

“Fun?” He exclaims, “I just saw Jared Leto come out of a cat suit, Y/N!”

“What?” You let out a breathy laughter, your eyes are on Rosa who is trying to talk to the driver. “That is crazy.”

“I know, I wish you were here to see it, too. Where are you anyway?” 

“I– I’m stuck.” You confess, hand gripping the seat you’ve been using as support tighter. 

“Stuck?” He asks, his voice conveying how confused he is. “Is everything okay? Where is Rosa?” 

“She is here, Danny, there are protestors on the street so it looks like I’m going to be late.” Your eyes keep watching the scene around you with you trying to see whether the people are moving as your voice wavers at the end. “Paris Hilton is also late though, so at least we’ll be fashionably late together.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Daniel coos, his voice sounding so soothing to you, “don’t worry, okay? I’ll just wait for you down here.” 

You let out a disagreeing hum. “They won’t let you; they need to have people move along so they can stick to the schedule.” 

“Then I’ll just wait for you at the top of the stairs,” Daniel announces, “Kris Jenner did it for her kids, didn’t she?”

“I– What– ” You scramble to put the words together, making Rosa frown at you. “How do you even know that?”

“You obviously doubt my ability to keep up with the Kardashians, sweetheart. Now breath for me, will you?” 

Daniel ends up staying with you on the phone until he is called up. You can tell he is hesitant to leave you, but you assure him that you’ll see him when you get there. Lucky for you, the crowd end up scattering and the car starts moving once again. You let out a relieved breath, but pray that no other complications arise until you make it to the Met. When the car stops again and Rosa informs you that you’ve made it to the location, you feel as if there is a big weight being lifted off your shoulders. You don’t even remember getting off the van and going inside or even stepping on to the carpet, but your short-lived dissociation is cut in half when you hear your name being shouted over and over again. You do your best to pose for every single camera even if the flashes are hurting your eyes once Rosa gently moves you along to help you onto the stairs, and you follow her as you pose for the las time looking over your shoulder with a wide smile – a pose you give every year, which the media dubbed as being yours and your mother manages to find new places to hang around the house after every year’s gala. You shoot Rosa a grateful look as she helps you move up the stairs by linking her arm with yours and lifting your dress for you to move more freely. 

You’re almost out of breath when you reach the top of the stairs, but there is a smile on your face as you hear, “We have another bride, ladies and gentleman, another one!” You look around to the source of the voice a loud laugh escaping you when you locate it. Emma hums the Wedding March as you make your way over to her, also singing, “Here comes the bride.”

“It’s so good to see you again!” You smile at her, quickly giving her a hug. “Three years in a row? I’m so proud of you!”

“Oh stop it, I’m never going to keep this gig if I blush on camera!” Emma laughs, pointing to your outfit. “Obviously, we have another Chanel Bride here, but what can you tell us about your look today?” 

“Well, it’s Bridal Chanel –  from my mother’s collection actually. She decided to buy this for me before I was even born, so than you mom,” you tip your head to the camera and lift your fingers up in a mock salute, “sorry for not wearing it for my actual wedding.” 

“Oh, no!” Emma gasps, “Was she angry with you for not saving it for your wedding?” 

“I don’t think so?” You wave her off, laughing as you assure her, “We were looking at different looks to pull from the archives, and I always ask her opinion on these things, actually she was the one suggested it.” 

She nods in understanding, smiling as she tips her microphone. “Well that’s a relief! What are your thoughts about this year’s theme for the Met Gala?”

You widen your eyes playfully, taking a moment to choose your words very wisely. “Yeah, I mean Karl was such a big influence in the fashion industry, but I think the important part about tonight’s theme is that creativity and fashion brings people together, and when people do come together beautiful things happen; that’s what I’m choosing to focus on.”

“That’s a beautiful way to put it actually,” Emma praises your answer, pointing to your hands as she asks, “And as a last question, what can you tell us about your jewellery? I mean I love all the bling you have on you right now.” 

That manages to pull another laugh out of you, and you show the camera your hands for a moment as you answer her question. “The necklace was a wedding gift from my father to my mother, which is why it makes it so special; I think. As for the rings, most of them are mine but my boyfriend got me the gold ones, so they are very special as well”

“Well, thank you for answering a few questions for us tonight, and I hope you have a wonderful night!”

Right as you turn back to leave after saying goodbye to Emma and her team, your eyes lock with a very familiar set of brown eyes. The breath is knocked out of your lungs when you take in his attire, your legs taking you to his waiting arms in no time. You can’t help the giggle sneaking out of your mouth as you look up to him with a wide smile to match the one on his own face, “I am sending Thom Browne a thank-you card, and a fruit basket.” 

“You like?” Daniel asks, raising a brow and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You let your fingers toy with the bowtie resting on his neck, “Oh, I love.” 

His voice is smug as he lowers his voice, “I’m glad, sweetheart.”

“You in tweed does something to me,” you mumble, hands going over to feel the fabric of his jacket, “and don’t even get me started on the damn bowtie.” 

“The bowtie is doing it for you?” Daniel laughs, and it is a full-bodied one where he throws his head back. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Do I look like I’m joking, honey?” You ask him in a deadpan voice. “I love this, I want you to wear this around the house, please.”

“Well, since you asked nicely.” Daniel nods. He takes your hands in his as he makes you twirl around for him to see your whole outfit, smiling at you boyishly when you face him again, “I was not expecting you to see you in a wedding dress when I woke up this morning.” 

“Well, it’s Chanel.” You emphasise what you’ve told him earlier this morning, which he responds to by attempting to tickle you by your waist through the corset of your dress. 

He tilts his head as he looks at you without any hint of joking, but his voice is the opposite as he asks, “Hey, you wanna get married after this?” 

“Yeah sure, can I still take you home tonight afterwards?” 

“You can always take me home, sweetheart.” He wiggles his eyebrows, pulling get another giggle from you. “Now, before we go inside and lose ourselves in all the food and the alcohol, is it going to ruin your makeup if I kiss you?” 

You raise your eyebrows as you playfully smile at him. “I might not make it through tonight if you don’t kiss me right now, honey.”

“Well, when you say it like that,” he murmurs, pulling you towards himself with the help of his hands on your waist, and capturing your lips in a long awaited kiss. His lips are unbelievably soft, you realise, as your eyes close and suddenly all you care about the man in your eyes. The camera flashes doesn’t slow down the way Daniel kisses you, it’s one of those kisses he gives you when the two of you see each other after it’s been a while. A groan rumbles from the back of your throat when he scrapes his teeth against your lower lip, the pad of his thumb and his pointer finger angling your chin to give him a better access. You can hear the smirk in his voice as he pulls away, leaving you chasing after his lips while they touch yours as he speaks in a low voice, “I told you; you shouldn’t have doubted my ability to keep up with the Kardashians.” 

You let out a breathy chuckle as you mumble, “Just kiss me, idiot,” and pull him in another kiss by his neck. 

[amaramizuki666]

Dp x DC crossover

So Danny moves to Gotham for college and ends up in almost all the same classes tim is in. Danny also cant catch a brake from ghost issues while in Gotham.

__________________

Tim stared at the boy in the seat in front of him. Daniel 'Danny' Fenton, majoring in criminal justice, and astrophysics. He was 5'5, had black hair, blue eyes, and was covered in freckles.

The reason tim was so interested in the guy was (no not because he had a crush. SHUT UP JASON!) Danny always looked like he'd drop dead at any moment. His eye bags where worse than Tim's own, and his skin was deathly pale. Tim swore sometimes he saw Danny's lips turn blue.

And danny constantly falling asleep in class certainly didnt help his worrys. The reason tim was stareing at danny now was because tim noticed a bruise around Danny's wrist in the shape of a hand. Was someone hurting Danny? Tim wasnt sure but he was going to find out.

The bell rung and danny left the room, tim waiting a few moments before following him. Was tim stalking his classmate? Mabey. But not like in a creepy way hes just worried.

It's totally not creepy at all to follow your unsuspecting classmate who you have only had a handful of conversations with into a dimly lit, empty library. Right?

Tim waited only a few moments to follow danny through the dubble doors of the library sticking low and to the shadows (which clinged to him to help conceal him). He looked around for a moment till he spotted danny in one of the darker corners, facing away from him.

He got closer and noticed glowing blobs of light , green, Lazarus green light floated around danny. "You know I thought when I moved here I could stop the whole sleepless nights thing, but nope instead I'm dealing with even more ghost shit." Tim heard danny rant quietly and watched one of the blobs come out of his sleeve wrapping its tail? Around his brused wrist.

"At least I have you guys" Danny's voice carried a gentiles, one tim hasnt heard from the boy. (Tim oh so wished danny would use that voice with him. NO NOT BECAUSE HE FELL HARDER THAN THAT TIME DAMIAN CUT HIS CORD SHUT UP JASON!).

Tim felt like he was intruding, even though his brain begged for him to dig into danny and learn all he can about him and what the hell was happening, he also didnt want to disturb this moment of peice.

Tim took a step back ready to retreat for the moment. When he stepped on a stray pencil. A creak, a loud echo of the pencil snapping beneath his boot its sent through the library.

Danny's head snaps to tim so fast hes worried the boy gave himself whiplash. Tim froze and so did danny. The stared at eachother studying one another.

Tim's breath caught in his throat. Danny's eyes where glowing a Lazarus green, his ears where pointed, and his freckles glowed like stars. Danny looked beautiful.

Danny had a awkward smile on his lips "um hi I can explain?" Danny says an anxiety filled laugh following after. "Please do" tim says.

He wont press danny for answers, he is already anxious enough, tim isnt Bruce. But he will listen to any information danny is willing to give. Which ends up being a lot. Apparently danny has a trauma dumping issue, but that's fine tim has dated worse. He did date stephanie after all.

[nurse-floyd]

The Weight of Living

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Warnings: mentions of body dysmorphia, ED’s (not overly descriptive. Avoid if you’re suffering from these issues and you’re always welcome to reach out to me if you need help with these issues.

You stood in front of the mirror in your hotel room, adjusting your outfit for probably the hundredth time that morning. Grand Prixs were always a glamorous affair; the paddock was always crowded with celebrities, models, and the other WAGs. The familiar feeling of anxiety washed over you as you turned to the side and further inspected your outfit.

“Hey, are you ready?” your boyfriend Daniel’s voice called out as he appeared in the doorway. His smile was bright, as always, but it faltered slightly as he took in your expression and the way you were examining yourself in the mirror. “You okay, babe?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Just trying to look presentable. I guess this is as good as it's gonna get.”

He walked to your side, his arms wrapping around you and his head coming to rest on your shoulder. “You look gorgeous, as always,” he emphasized with a kiss to your cheek.

You leaned back into his embrace. “Thanks, Danny.”

As you walked through the paddock hand in hand with Danny, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. The other WAGs and celebrities looked so effortlessly perfect, not a hair out of place, their clothes fitting just right and their makeup flawless. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that you didn’t compare.

You had been trying so hard since these feelings started to arise, skipping meals and spending more time in the gym in the hopes of losing a few pounds here and there to try and fit in among them. All it did was make you feel weaker and more self-conscious. Danny had noticed; he always encouraged you to eat with him, knowing the signs too well himself, but he also trusted you to come to him when you needed and when you were ready.

Danny, always attuned to your emotions, noticed your change in demeanor as you looked around, seeing photographers and the other guests in the paddock. He squeezed your hand a little tighter in support. “You look gorgeous,” as if he read your mind, he leaned over and whispered in your ear.

When the pair of you finally managed to get to the VCARB motorhome, you were left on your own as he was in and out of briefings and media. You hung around and talked to a few friends and RB employees, but mostly kept to yourself.

“You okay, sweetheart?” you heard Danny say as he came over to your side, breaking you from your thoughts. He had just finished up with an interview and wanted to spend any free moment he had with you.

“Yeah, just thinking,” you replied.

“Let’s get you something to eat before free practice. I know you skipped breakfast this morning.”

You hesitated, but nodded. As you made your way towards the catering area of the motorhome, you couldn’t shake the feeling that people were looking at you as you loaded up a few items on your plate. Judging. Criticizing your food choices. The anxiety was driving you crazy. In the end, you ended up with a small plate of some fruit, which you mostly pushed around with your fork.

A few hours later, free practice was in full swing, and you found yourself struggling to stay upright as you watched from the paddock. The noise, the stress, the lack of proper food—it was all becoming too much for your body to handle. Your vision blurred, and you felt yourself sway on the spot. The last thing you saw before your vision began to gray was the blur of cars as they zoomed past the screen.

When you came to, you were lying on the plush couch in what you recognized as Danny’s driver's room.

“Hey,” he said softly as he brushed a strand of hair back from your forehead, noticing your eyes fluttering open. “How’re you feeling? You scared the hell out of me.”

You could see the worry etched on his face as he knelt on the floor beside you. As you tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness had you closing your eyes again as you felt Danny guide you back against the plush sofa.

“I’m okay. Just a bit overwhelmed, I guess.”

You knew he wasn’t buying it, though. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and a knowing look. “Sweetheart, I know something’s going on. I wanted to wait for you to come to me and tell me, but now we need to have a serious talk.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Shh, it's okay,” he reassured you as he pulled you into a gentle hug. “I’m not mad, just worried.”

You nodded, knowing he was right. After a moment, he helped you sit up, his hands never leaving yours as his spare hand plumped up a few pillows for you to lean against.

“What’s going on, love?” he asked gently. “You’ve been different lately. Skipping meals, pushing yourself too hard...”

“I just... I don’t feel like I belong here,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I look at the other WAGs and I feel... inadequate. Like I’m not good enough.”

Danny’s eyes softened with understanding. “Your weight or how you look doesn’t define your worth. You are so much more than that, and I love you for who you are, not what you look like.”

“I just want to fit in,” you whispered, tears spilling down your cheeks.

He wiped them away with his thumb, his touch tender and comforting. “You don’t have to change yourself to fit in. You’re perfect as you are. And if you ever need help or support, I’m here for you. Always.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “Thank you, Danny. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiled, his eyes shining with love. “You don’t have to find out, because I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in weeks.

Danny kissed your forehead, then stood up, offering you his hand. “Now, how about we get you something proper to eat and take it easy for the rest of the day?”

You nodded, taking his hand and standing up. As you walked out of the room, you felt a renewed sense of strength, knowing that with Danny by your side, you could face anything.

[archive-z]

Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time or, what was on Daniel Molloy’s bookshelf in 1973?

Inspired by @volkswagonblues’ and @islandbetweeenrivers’ reading list of texts providing historical and cultural context for Daniel Molloy as journalist in the 1970s and 80s

This is, pretty much in its entirety (bar one or two references throughout the show and its extant material), assumptions I’ve made about the character. But, also: it’s my blog so I can do what I want. Dating works is somewhat inconsistent, as I opted for the date a piece was published in a collection or translation rather than when it first appeared in print if it seemed more realistic to have been acquired in that format.

I’ve found the archives of Rolling Stone and Playboy have been helpful in piecing together a who’s who of literary life in the late 1960s and early 1970s, especially for a intellectually precocious teen from suburban Modesto, CA transplanted into the centre of countercultural life in Haight-Ashbury.

From what I can gather, being born in ‘53 means Daniel was just a year shy of being drafted to fight in the Vietnam War, an experience that would have profoundly effected his peers just a year or two older than him. Throughout his teenage years, he’s got the spectre of the possibility of being drafted hanging over his head. It reminds me of pop-inspirational phrases like “you only live once,” which really puts his risk-taking, thrill-seeking behaviour into the perspective of yeah, this is someone who is trying to live life to the fullest every second of every day because the possibility of being drafted means that he might not make it past twenty. (Unfortunately! Louis & Armand also mean he might not make it past twenty either xoxoxo)

However, crucially, he did narrowly miss the draft, and despite that it would be horrible, I think there’s an acute sense of having missed out on this profoundly altering experience as well. Moving to Haight-Ashbury, he’s six years late to the Summer of Love ‘67, and the rose-tinted image of hippies, peace, and love is replaced by the grittiness of speedfreaks and serial killing (the Zodiac Killer being active throughout 1969, when Daniel would have been sixteen). He’s made it to San Francisco just a few years after its golden era, and i think this makes him even more determined to live, more determined to chase living life in order to make up for that, yknow?

i think the themes that he’s drawn to when reading are:

new journalism, and particularly when the journalist-as-rockstar persona is inserted into said reporting

the provocative, bacchanalian pursuit of pleasure, whether it be sex, drugs, or rock ‘n’ roll — and often sex mixed with violence in a way that is neither straightforward nor legible

travelogues and adventure stories that reflect his restlessness, particularly which let him romanticise far away places with thriving literary scenes like Paris and New York

a general aura of repressed queerness and crises of american masculinity (Capote, Tennessee Williams, Ginsburg, Hemingway)

war narratives as a vehicle for cold war/red scare anxieties

Without further ado, the actual book list:

Periodicals

Playboy magazine. People have long joked about reading Playboy for the articles, but it is the one piece of literature teenage Daniel is in-universe confirmed to have readily accessible, so I’m running with “Danny actually does read it for the articles, though” (and anyways, it’s Diana Ross’ Rolling Stones cover issue from Feb 1 1973 that he jerks off to). In 1973 alone, Playboy featured interviews with playwright Tennessee Williams; Huey Newton (co-founder of the Black Panther Party); news anchor and journalism’s elder statesman Walter Cronkite; science fiction novelist Kurt Vonnegut; and Pulitzer Prize-winning New York Times Vietnam war correspondent David Halberstam. Other Playboy interviews of possible interest: Fidel Castro, Orson Welles, Michael Caine (1967); Norman Mailer, Truman Capote, sexologists William H. Masters and Virginia E. Johnson, Paul Newman (1968); Martin Luther King Jr., Marshall McLuhan, Allen Ginsberg (1969). Also of note: between 1969 and 1971, Playboy was publishing faked letters to the editor that eventually developed into the Illuminati conspiracy theories.

In terms of reporting from major national newspapers in circulation, significant stories that come to mind are the New York Times publication of the Pentagon Papers (1971) and Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein’s Watergate investigations for the Washington Post (1972-73). It’s harder to gauge the circulation of underground newspapers like the Berkeley Barb (CA) and the Village Voice (NY) but its entirely likely that a resourceful and enterprising young reader with a point of view in Modesto, CA could get their hands on a copy.

Prose, Fiction & Nonfiction

The Little Red Book by Mao Zedong. At Berkeley, The Black Panthers would raise money by selling copies bought in bulk at markup to students. Absolutely makes sense that daniel would acquire (and actually read) a copy. Growing up in the wake of McCarthyism/Red Scare nonsense def makes me think he would see flirtations with communism as provocative and cool/edgy, but never back that flirtation up with follow-through.

The Hell’s Angels, a Strange and Terrible Saga (1966) by Hunter S. Thompson. Throughout the 1960s and 70s, the Hells Angels had a sizeable presence in San Francisco and Oakland — from what I can find they lived dead centre of Haight-Ashbury up until ‘69 if not later. As a teenager in Modesto, Daniel would have been geographically quite close (if not actually in attendance at) the 1969 Altamont Festival Rolling Stones performance where a teenage concertgoer was stabbed to death by a member of the Hells Angels.

Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail in ‘72 (serialized in Rolling Stone magazine) by Hunter S. Thompson. The quintessential text to understand ‘73 Daniel, imo. Fuck Nixon, Fuck Reagan, fuck the National Guard killing student protestors. Thompson’s other works include “The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved“ (with illustrations by Ralph Steadman) and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

The New Journalism: An Anthology (1973) edited by Tom Wolfe. In addition to excerpts of Hunter S. Thompson’s work already discussed above, the anthology collects In Cold Blood (1965) by Truman Capote, Slouching Towards Bethlehem (1968) by Joan Didion, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test (1968) by Tom Wolfe, and Armies of the Night (1968) by Norman Mailer. I won’t do justice to summarizing the New Journalism here, but it’s def important.

Slaughterhouse-Five (1969) by Kurt Vonnegut. The quintessential Daniel Molloy fiction novel, to me. Exploration of post-traumatic stress disorder through an encounter with time travelling science fiction aliens. Takes on a new resonance for Daniel when he’s dealing with his own ptsd post-1973. Vonnegut’s other works include Cat’s Cradle (1963) and Breakfast of Champions (1973). On the subject of Cold War anxieties, there’s Catch-22 (1961) by Joseph Heller. I don’t have much to say about it as I’ve not read it yet, but it feels like the kind of thing teenage Daniel living in Schrödinger's draft call-up would take to. Maybe also John Le Carré’s The Spy Who Came in From the Cold (1963) and The Looking Glass War (1965), the latter particularly for the palpable air of repressed homoeroticism and WWII nostalgia/Cold War anxiety.

A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway (published posthumously in 1964). Daniel absolutely spent his teenage years romanticising being an expat America writer in the Paris literary scene. Substance use, war, and crises of masculinity throughout. In addition to Hemingway’s reporting on the Spanish Civil War (1937-1938), other works include novels The Sun Also Rises (1926), A Farewell to Arms (1929), and For Whom the Bell Tolls (1940).

George Orwell: Down and Out in Paris and London (1933), Burmese Days (1934), Homage to Catalonia (1938), Animal Farm (1945), Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949); and essays ”Books v. Cigarettes“ (1946), ”Decline of the English Murder” (1946), “Politics and the English Language” (1946), and “Why I Write” (1946). I think Orwell’s nonfiction writing would appeal to Daniel more than his fiction, especially when at the right age to romanticize the poverty-tourism of Down and Out. Also bonus points for Paris.

On the Road (1957), The Dharma Bums (1958), and The Subterraneans (1958) by Jack Kerouac. In particular, The Subterraneans is based on Kerouac’s interracial relationship with an African American woman in the 1960s. He’d also probably read Naked Lunch (1959) by fellow Beat poet William S. Burroughs.

Lolita (1955) by Vladimir Nabokov, both for its salacious notoriety and its unreliable narration. Like myself, Daniel feels like the kind of teenager who would read Lolita at sixteen as a provocation in a conservative environment, but come away genuinely enjoying it.

Poetry, Drama, Misc

Howl and Other Poems (1956) by Allen Ginsberg, particularly the edition published locally by San Francisco’s City Lights Books Pocket Poets series.

A series of miscellaneous titles I’d group together as “Daniel Actually Did the Assigned Reading in High School English Class” — The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger (“Get off that bench, brother”), Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck, and “The Second Coming” by W. B. Yeats. Most significantly, I imagine high school is where he’d be exposed to the work of American playwrights Tennessee Williams and Arthur Miller. The Glass Menagerie (1944), A Streetcar Named Desire (1947), and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1955) by Tennessee Williams. In the context of his relationship with Louis, I think it’s fun to imagine he’s familiar with/attracted to the Southern Gothic by way of Tennessee Williams (again with the crises of masculinity, the spectre of war, the repressed sexuality). Williams and Death of a Salesman (1949) by Arthur Miller, present the life Daniel could have had ie. the alcoholic husband, housewife vacuuming on Valium, etc.

If there’s anything else anyone thinks I’ve missed, feel free to hit me with a reply or a dm or an @ or whatnot. stay freaky & support yr local library x

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC Phantom Punk: Rowdy 3

Back on my Punk Danny agenda

So, Danny is not like your typical ghost, and thus, Dan and Dani, aren't either. Most ghosts can coast by naturally and just exist outside the GZ despite the lack of ectoplasm, as long as they don't go overboard

The Phantoms?

They need more. It's not normal to need that much ectoplasm, but after a series of incidents where both the Fanton's and Vlad's portals no longer exist, they're a little screwed

So, what's a trio of Punk ghosts to do?

Luckly, there is a way to supplement their energy, and they learned it from a less than savory source... Spectra. Spectra feeds off of emotions, misery, anxiety and depression being her bread and butter. Now, technically any emotion will do, it just has to be heightened for them to get anything out of it. Joy and euphoria can work, but it's hard to consistently produce those emotions and feed. Things like fear and anger are easier to produce, but come with some... ethical issues

Their solution? Get it from people who deserve it

So, Dan, Danny, Dani, and [insert fourth character here, maybe Jazz? Sam would probably be down, remember to delete placeholder] hop into a heavily graffitied GAV and drive to Gotham. Living out of the GAV, Decked out in leather, spikes and denim, they roll into the most crime ridden city in the world and proceed to find random goons and criminals homes, bust the place up, make them nearly shit their pants and then feed off the fear and anger of these career criminals

Meanwhile, the Bats keep showing up at the scene just after they scram and keep having to deal with the aftermath

The inspiration is the rowdy 3 from Dirk Gently's Holistic Dectective Agency, if you are not familiar with my favorite punk energy vampires, allow me to educate you (only watch to the two minute mark if you want to avoid spoilers for the show)

[callmewrinkles3]

Castles Crumbling - DR3 x Fem!OC

Summary: There's just four races to go until Em never has to be near McLaren again, but her anxiety isn't getting any better. With fractures growing in their friendships and people in the media talking, how could it? Not even a gift from her husband could help.

Words: 15.5k

Warnings: The 2022 F1 season, COTA 2022, mental health issues (anxiety, depression, social anxiety, issues with food, one instance of accidental self injury), Zak Brown opening his mouth, hospitals, mentions of assumed domestic abuse, medical staff, smut.

AN: Remember us? Yeah it's been a while, we know. But we're back! Tumblr is a mess right now and with this we decided to make it worse. Please, please heed the warnings here. This is probably the lowest point Em gets to, and it's not a good place. It’s a hard, complicated one. If it's not something you feel comfortable reading, that's alright. Stay safe out there. See you around. 🫰🏻

October 2022

Em had no idea why she was so nervous the day they got to Texas. There was absolutely no reason to be, they'd had some time off and it had been lovely. Her anxiety kept going up and making her stress which was the last thing she wanted. She was tucked in under Dan's arm, their friends were there, and they were in one of her favourite places in the world. Even if when Dan asked her what she wanted to do on their days off she'd said nothing. She didn't have the energy to do it.

The cancelled Russian GP felt like a miracle, giving them a full three weeks off instead of a week in London and one in Sochi. It was an oasis after the triple header of Spa, Zandvoort, and Monza. As soon as Dan finished media after the Monza curse kicked in they left the circuit. Like the year before they were holding hands, but this time it was anger and misery. He'd been on for points. Good points. And then the car just died under him. Fuck McLaren.

They'd gone straight to their favourite pizza place, getting a smile from the staff when Em ordered in Italian. Even the Tifosi in the restaurant chilled around them. There were nods and smiles, Em returning them when she could. It was there to the hotel for some sleep, and the next morning they had quick goodbyes to everyone before renting a car and driving up to Lake Como.

It was normal for them to have a getaway in Italy after races. It started with the beach trip after their first night together in Monaco, and 2019 was the nights in Milan after two impossible feeling races. But finally, after a quarantine year that cancelled their plans and then Em having to cancel them when Dan won. But finally they got to spend their time together. Dan had promised her that even if he won they were still going.

But the car gave up, so instead they said goodbye to Blake and Micahel for three days away. Em adored them, but she'd spent so much time with them that they weren't her usual safe places. Things with Michael still felt awkward, and time apart just felt right. The three days were spent alone, actually getting to wear their rings while they tanned, ate pizza and pasta, and spent hours making love on any surface they could.

The best part of the three weeks off wasn't sunny Italy, it was going to Perth. Dan had to be at the MTC for two days for sim duty before the double header so they went back to London, but as soon as they could they were on the direct flight from London to Perth to see family. It had only been two months since they'd seen Joe and Grace, but they hadn't seen the rest of the family since the super quick trip they'd made to Perth after they got back together.

All they wanted to do was hug the kids and be home. They just wanted to be uncle Danny and auntie Emmy. Even thought it was winter it was warmer than Em was used to. It was healing being back at the farm. Silence at night, family arriving in the late morning or early afternoons, it was perfect. Either they went to see people or people came back to see them at the farm for a full two weeks.

It helped Em's anxiety lessen, as did the regular therapy sessions. They had one on a Monday evening while Em was in Perth, set for a time where no matter where in the world she was she'd be able to make it. On race weeks she had one on Thursdays too. Plus seeing the constant smile on Dan's face while he was home. That put a smile on hers. If anyone deserved to be happy it was her Danny, and Em would do anything in her power to make sure he was.

The fun days ended all too soon, hugging everyone goodbye and promising to see them in Abu Dhabi for Isaac's birthday before they went back into the swing of things. Singapore and the race wasn't bad, Dan finishing with 10 points. But Japan was awful. Lando barely in front but the team acting like he was on the podium, and the weather and recovery vehicles. Dan had talked to her about Jules once before, about losing one of his best friends as a result of those conditions on that track. Her heart was in her throat as she watched Dan go around and round. It was another weekend watching the man she loved be disappointed at a track he adored, but at least they got to spend a week in London before Texas.

Once they got on the plane to head to the US, Em could feel the nerves building in her. It was different from the - high grade if she was honest - anxiety that she usually had most days. This time there was a reason. Dan was showing her the house he bought them that she still hadn't seen in person.

It had started from 2019 when she was tipsy and half asleep and whispered it while dozing in his arms that Austin would be a nice place to live. Since then he'd been searching, revealing it to her when they were in Montreal. The original plan was an apartment with a balcony and natural light, but getting that in the delivery radius of their favourite barbecue place was nearly impossible. And then between the pandemic and everything it turned into wanting so much more than a one bedroom apartment. Plus hiding it from the woman who he spent almost every waking moment with felt impossible.

He'd signed the papers when she was in Liverpool, a desperate dream that maybe Em would come back to him.

Telling himself it was an investment and worth it even when he wasn’t fully sure it was. He knew in his heart he’d never rent it out but he had to try something. It was a total lie. But then he flew down to Texas before landing in Miami to sign for the house. The original plan had been to show her when she arrived in Miami. Dan’s sick hope that she’d turn up. But then she didn’t and he just kept hoping until she was finally there.

They’d said they’d stop off on the way to Montana, fly an extra few hours so Em could see it. But she was too fragile and exhausted and trying to put her pieces together. Then it was the summer break but the news about losing his job put the kibosh on that. So finally they were in Austin and couldn’t be disturbed and Em was about to see their home.

October had felt like it would be a lifetime away then. It would be autumn and starting to get cooler. But then she was there and they’d landed in Texas, gone through immigration and were in the rental car on the way to their brand new home.

It was scarier than moving into their apartment in London had been. London had been quick, necessity thanks to living in an Airbnb and needing to find somewhere to pick together. There’d been two weeks thanks to Dan between viewing it and getting the keys. But they’d viewed it holding hands, decided what room would be what.

This was different. Dan had picked it out entirely on his own, she’d had no idea. And she’d known about it for five months, desperately wanting to see more than the photos. If Em was honest she’d half thought the photos weren’t right, the oh so normal suburban home with a little garage attached. But as Dan put the car into park in their driveway it hit her. This was their home.

A lot of the time they had similar tastes. Food, music, and clothes were the big ones, they’d match in a lot of ways. When it came to TV and movies and podcasts they had differences, but unless it was one of his UFC podcasts she was usually happy to watch what he wanted, the same way he’d watch what she put on. One of the things they almost always agreed with - except for LA but Em wasn’t going to have a discussion about how ridiculous a full mansion for himself was - was where they lived and how they decorated. They always liked the same places and were interested in the same things when it came to a home. If there was something weird or one of them didn’t like it, the other generally didn’t either. It was how it worked when they’d found the apartment in London, they’d walked in holding hands and just knew.

It’s how Em knew Dan had to have done a good job when he chose somewhere in Austin. If he liked it, she’d like it, and when the car stopped she knew she was right. Her expectations were that it’d be an apartment in a high rise building, but it was in front of a house. A little country style 1960s house, like the stereotypical one you’d see. It was nothing like the ridiculousness in LA or the farm in Perth. It wasn’t even like the place in Italy Dan was looking at for them to have as a wedding present. It was so normal.

A one family home on a suburban Texan street. A couple of houses had lawn signs out, there were kids bikes on the street. It felt idyllic as Em looked at the pale brickwork and dark door. It felt like somewhere they could relax and just be.

“I know we said an apartment, but when I saw here it was perfect. It feels like us.” Dan held up a key on a cowboy hat keychain, the Longhorns orange logo visible.

“I’m not complaining at all, it looks cute. Time to go inside?”

They walked up to the front door holding hands as a smile spread across Em’s face. She wanted to stop and take it all in, but her excitement was too much. She could stand out in the front yard later, right now was for going inside. All she could do was look up at Dan and how peaceful he finally looked. It had been literal years for him and she couldn’t be more grateful that he’d kept holding out hope for them.

Opening the front door of somewhere new was always exciting and this was no different. She slipped the key in the slot and twisted to feel the lock disengage. Em went to push the door open but before she could Dan lifted her into his arms, nudging the door with his knee.

“Dan, what?!”

“Gotta carry the bride over the threshold, right? It’s my job.” She laughed at the grin on his face as he brought them inside, carefully depositing Em back on her feet in the living room so she could fully take it in.

The room was a blank canvas. Wooden floors with lots of windows and light, white walls just waiting for paint and decoration. Somehow he’d gotten a Welcome Home sign put up in front of the fireplace. It was cosy but had enough space for them and friends to be there. The work and effort Dan had put in was making her tear up before she’d even seen anything else. Then when she did turn around and saw the lavender door she actually did shed a tear.

The one thing she’d wanted in life was to paint her front door lavender. She’d seen photos of colourful seaside towns with different brightly painted doors and decided she wanted hers to be lavender. It wasn’t from Friends, as much as people might think. She’d never been a fan of that show really. But there was no possibility she could do it as a kid, and then in her rented apartments it was never going to happen. But Dan had promised her that he’d do it, and he had just for her. She turned to hug him and held onto him until she could get herself together for a moment.

“I told you we’d have it, it was just a matter of time. I know we can’t have the outside in London, but I thought the inside in Austin would work?”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I love it. I love you, Danny.” His arms tightened as she said it, a kiss pushed against Em’s head.

“Love you too. Wait until you see everything else, I think you’ll love it.”

Dan held her hand as they moved through the rest of the house. The kitchen was gorgeous and sitting out on the counter was a set of orange Le Creuset pans that matched the purple set they had in London. It was like her perfect kitchen was right in front of her. The doors to the back garden were there, a deck leading down to grass and it was carefully enclosed. It was safe and beautiful. She wandered outside and looked at the wildflowers growing at the end of it.

She had no idea how she’d gotten so lucky. How did he love her even after everything? After everything she’d done, everything she’d nearly ruined? But Dan loved her with everything and he did all of this for her. It was a home, not just a house, and part of her hated that they wouldn’t really spend enough time of the year here. He’d given her everything, and she didn’t know what she’d do if she didn’t have him.

A quiet sob made her turn around in panic to see a smile on Dan’s face as tears streamed down his cheeks. Her arms wrapped around him, holding onto her husband as he cried. They were both too familiar with tears by this point, and her job was to hold onto him and love him and wait until he was able to speak. These were the overwhelming tears.

“I thought I might never see this place. Especially not with you. I was waiting until you were here to see it in person and I think I’d come to terms that it wasn’t going to happen.” The rawness of his words cut her deeply, Em kissing his jaw as a reminder she was here before she could speak.

“I’m right here, Baby. I’m here. And you’re here with me. We’re together.”

“I know. I know.” Dan kissed her so gently Em thought it could have been a dream until she opened her eyes and looked at him.

“Good…what do you mean you didn’t think you’d see it? You flew out to sign?” He squeezed her and Em knew no matter what he was about to say she was going to worry.

“I did. But I didn’t come here. I signed the contract and hired someone to keep an eye on it and do what I needed. But I couldn’t come here without you. It was for us.”

“You bought an entire house without seeing it?” The disbelief was clear in her voice. Her insane, brilliant, generous husband.

“It was a bad time, don’t judge me.” She never could. Not in a million years. “I wanted to do more things, y’know? I thought about changing the windows out for ones with bigger panels of glass so you have even more light to read, put some screens up so you can open them without bugs. Have some of the flowers out the front under the living room window. Maybe change the roof? The one there is fine but it’s gonna need replacing in a few years. Plus I wanna change the fireplace cause that’s original from the 70s when this was built and I don’t like the tiles. But not without you. Even looking at furniture to buy felt wrong. That’s what you do. You turn the places we live into homes without even thinking about it. Plus, I thought it could be like an anniversary present. Five years ago this week is when I met you for the first time.”

Em settled into Dan’s arms with her head pushed against his neck for an extra moment as she took in what he said. She’d so nearly blown their lives up in April - walked away without so much as a word. But even though she did that he loved her and still believed she’d come back somehow. How could she not be utterly in love with him? She didn’t deserve him but he loved her anyway.

“We turned them into homes. Us. Together. That’s what made them into homes, and it’s what’ll make this into one too. So thanks for waiting for me to do it.” It was a sweet kiss and wiping away the tear tracks from his cheeks as she smiled up at him. They’d turn it into one. She wouldn’t ruin yet another home for them. She couldn’t do that like she had with their first flat. “Show me everywhere else? Please? I wanna see our room.”

The rest of the house was just as perfect. A bathroom with a gloriously big bath for her and Dan to fit, two spare rooms, and finally the master bedroom. It wasn’t stupidly huge, but it was perfect. She could see all the flowers that Dan had gotten planted outside through the window. Em had no idea how he managed to get it done but he did and she’d be forever grateful for it. The other thing he did was get a proper mattress for each bedroom. It wasn’t a full bed yet, there weren’t even sheets, but she could actually lay down. As comfortable as the business class seats were, she just wanted to lie down and stretch. Her sneakers came off in a heartbeat and that was about as quickly as Dan was lying on top of her.

"You like it?" Dan whispered as if to not break a spell. His head was on her shoulder while his arms wrapped around her body to pull her as close as possible.

"The mattress? It's amazing, I wonder how I'm gonna get up again. The house is very nice too." She kissed his forehead while her smile grew even wider. "I love it. I really, really love it. It's absolutely perfect, Love. I still think you're insane, but thank you."

"I'm happy you like it. You know you never need to thank me."

"Really? Cause I think I know a way to thank you and bless this place together."

All Em needed was one kiss on her neck and feeling his grin against her skin to get going. Clothes were thrown off and left on the floor, and the luxury of not sharing a wall with anyone else was perfection. The loud moan as Dan finally entered her with one slow push echoed around the near empty room.

Usually on race weekends she was careful to not mark Dan's neck or scratch his back or shoulders. Usually she'd do her best to leave no marks at all unless it was a break but that day she couldn't care less. Her hands were all over his back and holding him as hard as possible. Part of her brain screamed at her that she was fucking everything up and she needed to stop, but Dan's frown as she went to let go and the way he squeezed her made her continue. If he was prepared for any comments and wanted her to keep going then she was going to.

At least now people knew that she was the one responsible for anything. She sucked a small dark mark against his collarbone, watching as the skin reddened and bloomed. She didn't care about it in the moment. The next day she probably would when his shirt moved the wrong way and everyone saw it but right then she couldn't care less. For once her head was quiet, focusing about how warm her Danny was against her, the way his hands made her feel so good. How he was hitting the perfect spots in her, the whispers of how good she was and how she was his best girl, his only girl. The marks he was leaving against her that screamed she was his. His, his, his.

When they finished it was like magic. Like every time he held her tight and kissed as they came down from their highs, the two of them keeping the other there. It was one of her favourite moments with him since that very first time they'd slept together. The world stopped for a few moments, silent and the only people who mattered were them. When she opened her eyes Dan was there, that smile that made her fall head over heels all those years ago on his face as he stole a kiss and made her smile against his lips.

Years ago the next thing in their routine had been one of them - usually Dan - asking to stay the night even when they shouldn't. That part of their routine was long gone. But the comfort and cosiness of the moment was ruined by Em's "oh shit!" and running to the bathroom, too afraid to mess up the brand new mattress that didn't even have sheets on it. The only thing there to clean up was Dan's shirt and she wasn't doing that to him.

When she came back feeling better Dan still kissed down her legs to make her giggle, Em looking at him smiling up at her. She ran her fingers through his curls as she looked down at the love of her life. How did she get so lucky? She didn't deserve him.

It took everything to get up from that mattress. She was jetlagged and tired and wanted to stay there and fall asleep beside him. She was comfortable and didn't want to leave. But they had things to do, shopping first on the list. If they were staying there for a night before moving to the team hotel they needed basic stuff. Dan insisted they didn't need sheets for the mattress, they had toilet paper and paper cups for their celebration and could get takeout. Even while Dan was trying to say nonsense Em was rolling her eyes and pulling clothes out of one of their cases to put on. She made Dan do the same, even as he insisted she looked better without clothes on.

"Do you really want me to go to Target naked, Love?" The wide eyes and rapidly shaking head was all that Em needed for him to get up and shimmy his jeans on.

For most couples a trip to the supermarket was a normal thing. But they weren't a normal couple, or at least not that normal. Usually groceries were delivered, and the occasional times they did something like this was during the winter break in Perth. They'd go some weekday morning when it was quiet and people didn't notice them. She loved it though. It was like going out with an excitable kid who looked at everything and kept stopping. She got to hold his hand and be normal for rare occasions.

So that afternoon it was a rare opportunity for Em to drag him around. It took a pout to convince him it was a good idea, but an oak milk latte from the Starbucks before they started shopping was all the extra incentive he needed to keep going. But as they started wandering Dan was the one who kept stopping and looking. He wanted the perfect glasses, Em got distracted looking at lipsticks for a new perfect pink. Then they spent time deciding on towels and bedding for not just their room but the spares too. After all that a coffee maker and mugs had to be bought, along with the matching plates and bowls. All of that, plus a lamp, cushions, a fake plant, fairy lights, candles, and groceries for that night and the morning that could be frozen when they were leaving ended up in the trunk of the rental car. Em couldn't stop grinning the entire drive back to their house.

London was a mix of things they'd had in both of their apartments, choosing what they preferred and putting them together with new things when they really needed them. Perth, Monaco, and LA were kind of like that, Em turning professionally interior decorated places into actual homes instead of places where they just spent time. But Austin was different. It was a blank canvass where she could start from scratch and turn it into colour and home and happiness. Even if this trip was just a few things to make it better she could take time and decide what they were going to do.

She barely got to put the sheets on the mattress before Dan was dragging her back down, covering her in kisses. It had been since the summer break when they felt like this, able to hold and love each other and Em able to shut her brain up enough to enjoy it. Thye spent the afternoon and evening moving from bed to couch and back again, ordering takeout from the restaurant Dan made sure they were near, before returning to loving each other. Dan held onto her as they fell asleep, Em content and cuddled in.

The next day was when they were supposed to move to the hotel but neither of them really wanted to. The boys landed and they met with them, checking in, but deciding to spend that night in their home before having to go back to the F1 circus. Instead they spent it with Michael and Blake, Em watching the three of them laughing and joking. It was easier to stay a little on the outside of it all and watch, Dan's hand around her waist as they sat in their favourite bar in Austin yet again eating barbecue and Em drinking a coke and stealing sips from Dan's one beer before the race weekend.

Getting out of their uber and being completely alone once the front door closed was a luxury for Em. They were always surrounded by people, she knew that. Dan loved having family and friends around, loved being with everyone. She'd known that since the beginning. It was one of the reasons - besides the obvious - why she was around the boys so much. Dan loved to bring his people around and Em loved watching him be happy and glowing no matter how loud it was. Usually she could put her earplugs in and smile and it was fine. But at the track and in offices and media centres it was more of the same. There were always people, Dan was always busy.

She'd known from the beginning that Dan wasn't always hers. She had to share the man she loved with the rest of the world. And she knew this, she married him knowing it, but it was hard sometimes. She'd gone in with eyes open that especially during race weeks it was a good week to have a couple of hours alone together. The only thing she asked was that they went to bed together. She'd stay up as long as she had to to do it with him. She always fell asleep with her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. Dan always woke her up with a kiss on her forehead if he had to get up before her as a quiet goodbye and a heads up she'd fully wake alone. It was what they did. So one extra night where they got to wake up completely alone felt nearly perfect.

But some nights, even when they were alone, she could tell Dan's head was somewhere else. This was one of those nights. They were curled up to sleep, arms around each other, but Em could see that his eyes were open and his jaw was tense. Even with the way the last few days were nice it wasn't an easy time. Everything seemed to be slowly crumbling around them. Apart from their relationship it seemed like so much was falling apart and it was impossible. She was doing everything she could to keep the man she loved going but Em didn't have much left to give. There were some things she couldn't fix. She couldn't magic up a seat in a team for him no matter how badly she wished she could do it. She couldn't even negotiate with him, because that wasn't her job. Doing it for the McLaren severance was different, that was for their pride and to prove that team hadn't ruined them. It was personal. But talking to other team principals? She couldn't.

The one thing she could do was reach up and push a kiss to his jaw, watching as he looked down at her with sad eyes. She could ask the questions and support him and love him and give him advice.

"Penny for them?" It was quiet until Dan took a deep breath.

"Should I talk to Haas? Guenther sent over a proposal. It's a seat for n-"

"Absolutely not." The vehemence that she came out with worried even her but she kept talking. "That team ruins people and makes them miserable, and as much as Guenther has been decent to me in the paddock they're run ridiculously. Look at what's happening to Mick, he told Mick last week that he might keep the seat but now you're being offered it? They won't listen to you, they won't care about the setup. They'll mess it up and blame you. They did it to Kevin and then begged him to go back. You deserve better than it."

"It might be the only way for me to have a seat next year."

"I'd rather we call it a day and just go home." Em was blinking back tears as Dan held her closer, watching as she got herself together. "I can't spend another year watching you suffer for a team and their stupid car while you're trying to smile. This year has been so hard, Danny. You deserve better than that. You're so much better than that."

"Do you really want that? Do you want to go home?" The words echoed around her head. Home. She still didn't know what it was. Dan was her home, but she couldn't say anywhere really was anymore. But her tears began to fall and she couldn't stop them.

"We lost too much this year, Danny. We lost a baby. We nearly lost us too. We did lose us for a while and we nearly didn't make it back. I don't have anything else to give it. This sport and this team has taken almost everything. It even took my dignity in Spa. We've given it everything. Baby I love you with my whole heart and you know I will do anything for you. You know that." She took a deep breath as she tried to get the courage to ask.

"I know, Baby girl. I know. And I love you just as much. We're us, that's not changing ever." His words and the warm arms around her made her able to say it.

"You can't ask me to watch you go through another year like this one. You can't do that to me. We can't go through another year like this and you know we can't. If we try it's going to break us. Please. If you love me just...please don't. Be a reserve driver or try something else or any other driving, I'd rather watch you do ovals. Please don't make me have to go through watching you suffer like this again."

She broke down after speaking, feeling Dan hold her even tighter than he had before. She'd never said it. She never wanted to tell him not to drive, she adored him and trusted him to do the right thing. But this was terrifying to watch. She didn't know what she could do except ask him not to drive for once.

"Hey Baby, I've got you. It's alright, Emmy. It's alright. It's going to be fine, Baby girl. I promise. You just take deep breaths. Breathe in with me Baby." She followed his exaggerated breathing until she'd calmed down from the panic attack she'd nearly worked herself into yet again. Her fucking brain. She needed to be calm for this.

"I'm so tired, Dan. I'm exhausted and I don't know if I can deal with another year at a team that won't respect you. This year was too much. I can't lose you again. Please don't make me lose you again."

"It won't happen, Emmy. I swear it's not going to. I'm gonna be right here."

"It happened twice."

And that was her fear. They'd basically lost each other last Christmas, and what should have been the final nail in the coffin was Melbourne. They shouldn't be together. They'd fought for so long, they'd promised each other. But she didn't know if she could fight for another year to try not lose him.

"That was different and you didn't lose me. I fucked up but we're right here. Remember that forever promise we made?" He kissed her ring finger, Em smiling through her tears.

"I almost did and it felt like I couldn't breathe. I can't go through it again. Call me selfish but I just can't."

"You're not selfish. You're the exact opposite of selfish, Babe." The pain in Dan's voice made Em feel even worse than she did saying it.

"I feel like I am. I know how much you love racing."

"But I love you more." He punctuated his words with a kiss before continuing. "I'm chasing loving racing again, and I've stopped loving it now. Maybe it's time to let it come back to me. If it works I can try get a seat in 2024. If not I've got you, and we can work it out from there. I can be a househusband. I was thinking about it, y'know? Maybe it's time for me to be a househusband, you get your year. I'll stay home, make breakfast, do laundry, all that. You deserve a year of not doing anything after taking care of everything I've thrown at you."

"You and I both know you'd go insane if you did that. It'd be fun for a week." A watery giggle escaped, Dan smiling at her ability to laugh.

"Maybe two? But it can be your year. I want you to be happy, not just following me around the world while I'm doing it."

"All I wanna do is be with you. I just...I want you to be my Danny for a while. I don't want to have to share you with the world for once. What I really need right now is to wake up on a weekend and not go anywhere. I want us to stay in our bed, not in a hotel unless we're on holiday. I hate myself for being this selfish and asking you, but I need this."

"A weekend in bed not going anywhere sounds really good right now." Dan kissed her nose, brushing the hair out of her face to make sure Em was looking at him. "I'm telling you, you're not selfish."

"I feel like I am. I feel like I'm making a decision for everyone. Michael's gonna need a new job, it's a mess."

"I was thinking about telling him I think it's better for our friendship to not work together so that'll be fine. Jack's looking for someone for F2 next year, that might work. But you're not making a decision for everyone, you're telling me how you feel. I told you before. If you asked I'd walk away. We deserve to be happy. You deserve that."

"I love you." She held onto him tightly, desperate to make it clear how much she loved him. She didn't deserve Daniel. Not at all. Somehow he loved her even though she'd made a mess of so much. "It's just one year. Then we can go back. You can keep racing till your forties if you want like Fernando. I don't care if you do."

"You really think I want to race that long? Two or three babies and racing around the world for twenty something weeks a year?"

"Seb is. For now." She wasn't looking forward to saying goodbye to someone who'd always been kind to her.

"Yeah, but I don't think I'll be able to do that after our kids start school. There's a difference between Switzerland and Perth."

"If you want to do it the option will be there. As long as you want to keep racing and you're happy you know I'll support you. We can work around anything else." Em snuggled into him at his words, at the knowledge. He wasn't lying. They'd be happy. She'd make herself be happy.

"We can talk about it then. But Toto and Christian have already been in contact about a reserve role. Christian rang before I even did the video. But I'm focusing on you and me first."

"Thank you," Em breathed out.

"For what?"

"For being you. I just wanna be your girl. I wanna be your girlfriend in public and nothing else. I...I need to be your girl for more than a week, not your assistant. I love my job and I love working but I need this. I need to not think about the fact that I share you with the world for a weekend. I know it's a lot to ask but I need that. Just one year. Can you give me a year?" She felt awful asking, but they were there together. She knew he wouldn't feel bad about her asking.

"With one condition."

"Anything you want."

"Marry me. I'll take a year off as long as you marry me."

"Did you hit your head or something? Want to do it again?"

"We said we were going to do it properly, right? I'd propose and we'd have a wedding with our family and that's what I want for us. A year off and we can plan our wedding. Go wherever we want for our honeymoon. No schedule, no fitting it into a two week gap and a honeymoon over the summer break. Just us and the people we care about. So marry me, Emmy?"

"Yeah. This sounds perfect." She kissed her husband, grinning against him as he held her left hand and kissed the perfect engagement ring he'd given her in August when she'd proposed in LA. Getting to do this their way was more important to them than revealing anything else. It felt right.

The next morning when Blake came over for breakfast before the three of them went to the hotel they spoke to him about their decision. It was easier than Em expected it to be, Blake agreeing with both of them entirely. Dan was burnt out, Em was a mess of a human, they were shadows of who they were just a year before. It made sense.

He didn't admit it, but Em knew Blake was exhausted too. He'd been carrying her and Dan for the last six months on his own, a year away from all of their travelling and chaos would be good for him too. They could recharge and focus and next year Blake could start putting feelers out about potential seats.

The other thing they agreed was Em was taking a leave of absence from work. She hated it. She hated feeling like she couldn't do her job. But she needed to look after herself and both of her boys agreed. As soon as Dan said it she knew he was right, nodding and hugging him. At least they got to tell Blake about planning the wedding, and the hug her big brother gave her was worth everything.

Once they got to the hotel it became the normal race weekend whirlwind. Dan was in media and strategy meetings while Em stayed in her hotel room, Criminal Minds on tv while she smiled at her ring and took down little notes about the wedding they wanted. Blake was there showing her the progress he'd made on hiring the horse for Dan's grand entrance to COTA the following day. Her idiot was actually attending press day on a horse. It was entirely Blake's fault for encouraging it months ago.

When Dan got back they facetimed his parents to give them the news, Em crying as Joe said he was happy to finally get to properly call her their daughter now. It was a good day. She was taking the good day.

The only downside to arriving to the circuit was firstly that she couldn't hold Dan's hand because of the horse, and secondly having to hide her engagement ring. She didn't want to take it off, but it was an unspoken agreement that they weren't telling anyone outside their people until after the season was over. They didn't want McLaren using it for media. She didn't want an instagram post from anyone who was firing her husband congratulating the happy couple. She didn't want that orange team involved in her personal life, so the announcement could wait. The nice part was getting to pet the horse Dan was riding. Before Bluey was saddled up she got to brush him down under his groom's careful eye, and afterwards she brushed him and gave him an apple as a treat. It felt like back in Montana, brushing the horses there and her anxiety disappearing for a gorgeous few moments.

Once that was done she didn't have much to do for the afternoon. Blake was officially taking over what she'd been doing, following Dan from meeting to meeting instead of Em. To avoid even more rumours and speculation she wandered the paddock every hour or so with her iPad in hand, chatting to people she knew and acting like it was normal.

It was a weird relief that not working was a help. She still had her therapy sessions with Mildred every Monday - plus a Thursday one before most race weeks - still had her every two weeks psychiatrist appointments to talk about her medication levels, but it felt like it wasn't working. She felt like she was jumping out of her skin, anxiety a constant in her head. A decent part of her wished she could stay in their hotel rooms on any given weekend, but she had to be there for Dan.

Her weekends were most comfortable when she went from the entrance to Dan's room and back again. Nobody bothered her in there, she hid away while her friends and husband were busy, and she felt awkward sitting in hospitality with people looking at her like she was a dead woman walking. So instead she lay along the massage table pinning things to a pinterest board to start wedding planning. Her plan was to show Dan what she liked and they could decide after.

Between taking notes about not wanting designated seats so it could be a mix of people and looking at flower options she dozed off where she lay. Sleep was at a premium for Em on race weekends, but having something nice to think about helped her doze.

She woke up to Dan's kisses against her forehead, not even opening her eyes but reaching out for Dan to squeeze her hand. It was a quick murmur that he'd be back soon, he just had one more meeting and then they could go. Before she knew it Dan was back, helping her stand and fixing her hair so she didn't look like she'd spent the last hour sleeping. They walked out of the paddock hand in hand, ready for the hotel and to curl up in bed together.

"I wish we could just stay in our house instead of here," Em whispered as she looked out the window to the city view in front of them. It was gorgeous, the room was luxurious. But she wanted their house with the mattress that they didn't even have a bed frame for yet. Dan stood behind her, Em resting her back against his front. She could relax and let her anxiety float away for the next few hours until they had to get up and do it the next day and the next and the next, before the brief reprieve before Mexico.

"Saturday night after Blake's birthday dinner? And next time we're here we can stay there full time."

"That sounds perfect."

Waking up on Friday morning was nearly impossible. The universe knew Em wasn't an early bird, but she felt absolutely drained. She didn't want to think about it, but something was wrong with her. She knew when it took Dan shaking her shoulder to wake her up. Usually kisses against her forehead would wake her but the last week or so it had been harder and harder to wake herself up and move more. The kisses were still there but not enough.

"Morning Baby, hey. Sleep well? I've been trying to wake you for a few minutes." Dan was smiling at her as she blinked blearily at him.

"Jetlag? Mornin'. Do we have five more minutes?"

"We're down to ten, but we've got time." He always woke her a little bit early before they actually had to get up. Usually it was fifteen minutes but she'd burned through that time already.

"Mmm, thank you."

It was quiet for a moment before Dan spoke again. "When's your next blood test for?"

She'd been getting them semi regularly since the first doctor's appointment when she came back, the realisation that her iron and calcium levels were low not helping her mental health. The supplements were helping, but the exhaustion remained.

"Before Christmas? I think?"

"Want me to make a doctor's appointment for after Mexico? I can call when they're open on Monday for you. You're sleeping a lot, I just wanna make sure your iron didn't drop or anything. You haven't really been eating much."

She'd been exhausted and barely eating. Part of it was just not being hungry, part of it was nothing was appetising. Even her usual foods that would always make her want to eat weren't it. Even the snack plates that she'd usually pick at weren't worth it.

"Yeah, ok. Just...don't tell Michael? I don't wanna hear about it from him. I don't want more supplement ideas and stuff."

"I won't even think about it."

She went to move to get up but didn't, too comfy there. "'m sorry 'm so tired. It's just been exhausting the last few weeks."

"We'll go home after Mexico and find out. Maybe you just need a med tweak. Or we can go see a doctor here. Go to a clinic, get an iron test to see if it's something to do with that?"

"Nah, we can wait till we're back. Extra naps will work?"

"You'll be all good, Love. I've got you."

Em didn't want to get out of the bed when she was warm, comfortable, and safe in bed with her husband. She didn't want to go to the paddock, and she definitely didn't want to sit in the orange decorated building while the rest of the team just waited for Dan to fail. Again.

But she didn't have a choice, so she got up and got dressed to go stand beside him. Her makeup hid the circles under her eyes, her hair was pulled back, and her outfit was perfect. She could do this. She could absolutely do this. Before they left the hotel room Dan gave her a hug and the sweetest kiss to make her smile.

They held hands for every second they could going through the paddock. All the way down to the car, on the drive in, and walking through the paddock. Dan held her hand proudly as they went in, getting her to go through the barrier first before following her in and taking her hand again.

Em didn't want to be at the track so early, especially when Dan wasn't even driving for FP1. Palou was in Dan's car for it as a rookie driver test, and while she had nothing against Alex she didn't want to watch him. She didn't care about motorsport. It had taken her years of trying to be interested but she didn't care. She cared about Dan driving and that was it. So instead she stayed in Dan's tiny room in hospitality, reading her kindle. The second the interviews and press conferences were done she switched the tv off and kept reading. Her friends were working and getting Dan ready for the rest of the day but she stayed there.

The nice part was that between chapters and looking at pinterest on her iPad for wedding ideas Dan would come upstairs for the briefest hug. He always came with tea and a smile, a quick kiss and a "miss you". He could go back knowing she was fine there.

"You need to go back to work, you're in the car in twenty minutes," Em told him as he dawdled going back downstairs once he was in his orange race suit.

"What if I don't wanna? I wanna stay here with you." She put her kindle away and stood up to take his hand, ready to go stand in the garage to watch him for the hour.

"I could kidnap you and we can go home? Nobody knows where our house is, we can hide there maybe?"

"Is it kidnapping if I'm your husband?"

"I mean not if you go willingly." Dan laughed and his loud honk made her smile. He was there with her and it was worth it.

"You gonna stay here or wanna come down to the garage with Blake?"

"Garage. You know I'm not gonna miss you in the car, no matter what."

"If you need anything just head out, ok? I'll find you after. Just tell Blake."

"I'll be fine, don't worry." She leaned up to kiss his cheek and watched as Dan smiled at her.

"I always worry. Same way you worry about me. It's what we do."

They were about to walk out when Em pulled him back for a moment, watching as Dan looked at her. "I know weekends at your room here used to be more fun and sexy and great. I...I'm sorry it's not like that anymore. Now it's just a mess and yeah. I wish it was like we used to be. I'm just boring now."

"Baby girl, we're married and in our thirties. We're supposed to be boring."

"I'm being serious."

"I know you are." She looked away but Dan's fingers cupped her chin, pulling her up to look at him. "Look at me Emmy. You are the smartest, funniest, most interesting person in the universe. You're my favourite person. You're my wife and I love you. I don't care if we just sit in silence doing nothing for a week. As long as I'm with you I'm happy and having fun. Nobody does it like us. right?"

"Right. And I love you too. Forever and always."

"And to the moon and to Saturn. Let's go and it's one more driving session to the end of the year."

She walked down holding his hand, kissing his helmet and telling him to go fast and be safe before taking her spot beside Blake. Her headphones went on and she stood there holding Blake's hand as they watched the time tick down.

The worst part of the sessions was having to hide her anxiety, the cameras flashing to her and her name appearing on TV. Emma Smyth, Daniel Ricciardo's partner. It still felt surreal that the world knew it. It was pure anxiety as she stood waiting, taking slow deep breaths as Blake squeezed her hand. It was one more hour until she could hide away again.

She hated seeing him in that car. She'd always trusted the cars he drove, always trusted the teams he had. But not anymore. And it was hard because she knew he didn't trust it either. She hated living with the feeling that he didn't trust the car to perform the same way lap after lap. The feeling kept growing in her chest until he was finally wheeled back in when practice ended. He sent her a wink as he got out of the car, Em's smile returning seeing him there safe. If he could have Dan would have given her a hug but he was immediately surrounded by engineers to give feedback to.

By the time Dan was free to leave the circuit it was nearly dark outside. The debriefing took time, and then he had to do partnership stuff that took longer than expected. For this time she decided to be brave and go into hospitality, sitting beside Blake. He kept her distracted by asking questions about things that he really didn't need to ask. For years they'd worked beside each other and it felt totally normal, and even now she wasn't working it felt normal and looked normal. She didn't know what she'd do without him.

Saturday was a day when she had to put her bravest face on because it was Blake's birthday. Despite another day of not wanting to leave the hotel room she got dressed and smiled, following Dan to their best friend's hotel room to give him a giant hug and the presents they'd gotten for him. Her big brother gave her a hug in return, a whispered thank you more than enough for her. She had to hold on for Blake's day. Had to.

She spent practice and qualifying in the garage, holding Blake's hand as usual when they watched Dan get into the car. It had been a happy week in one of their favourite cities, her rings hanging around her neck as she looked on. But instead she watched as the man she loved got out of the car frustrated after Q1, qualifying seventeenth. This stupid team and this stupid car and she had to keep herself together because she didn't want cameras on her.

Dan coming over to say sorry to Blake because he wanted to make his friend proud but didn't broke her heart. It was all Dan ever wanted to do, to make his wife, his friends, his family happy and proud of him. She knew he was aware of the sacrifices people had made to help him, and he was determined to make it worth it. But for nearly all of this two year stint at McLaren it hadn't worked. She'd watched him try. But yet again he was putting a brave face on and a fake smile about how he was going to make up places on Sunday.

She watched him blame himself yet again in front of the media and the world and Em wanted to whisk him away. She wanted to make it all better. He deserved more. She'd seen it with her own eyes, she'd been there when he'd won races. He'd never won them easily. All she wanted was to take him away from the stress and the constant criticism. But she couldn't.

As soon as they were finally alone - after Dan had done media and cooled down with Michael, finally entering his room where Em was waiting. Her arms went straight around him, holding tightly so he could know she was there.

"I'm sorry, Baby. I thought I could get into Q2 for Blake and for you. Make this weekend good for us." She looked up at Dan, trying to keep herself from falling apart.

"It's already a good weekend. You did everything you could, Baby. I don't blame you." Dan just held her tighter, doing everything to keep it together for a few more moments. But then he had to go back to the debrief while Em packed their stuff up. The hotel restaurant was booked for that evening for Blake's birthday. Just the four of them, a chill evening before some of Blake's friends from other teams went to a booking they had in a barbecue place after the race on Sunday. Part of her wished it was just the three of them, pushing that thought away from her head. She loved Michael. She did. He was just difficult to be around lately.

In a shocking turn of events Dan's debriefing didn't take as long as expected. But even with his performance there were fans there to ask for autographs and photos. Em soaked in the love everyone else had for him as he got to glow. Even with that delay they were in the hotel slightly earlier than expected and going straight to their room to get ready.

"We don't have time for a bath, right?" Dan asked, Em kissing his cheek.

"No Baby. We have to be downstairs in half an hour. You have time for a quick shower if you want one."

"Will you come with me? Please?"

It took nothing for Em to agree to go with him, walking into the bathroom and helping Dan to undress as she got her own clothes off. Dan set the shower up while Em stepped in, feeling his arms around her as he got under the showerhead too.

"Can we have a bath tomorrow when we go home?"

"That's the best plan I've heard all week."

Em wanted to spend more time than they had there, trying to get Dan to relax. But instead she carefully washed and conditioned his hair, giving them the love Dan didn't in a normal shower. He did the same for her hair, the apple scent of her shampoo filling the steamy room. Ten minutes wasn't nearly enough but they were out, Dan pushing a kiss to the 3 tattoo on her wrist before he let her go.

Five minutes later Em was nearly ready, just running the hairdryer over her so the wet strands didn't dampen her clothes. Once it was mostly dry she was happy, taking Dan's hand to go back downstairs.

Blake and Michael had arrived before the two of them, Em catching the tail end of their whispered conversation with "-my night out, don't do that." all she could hear. As soon as they realised they were there the two men stepped apart as Blake greeted them.

She knew it was serious when Michael didn't make comments about what Dan should order thanks to his race weekend diet. It was even weirder when he didn't say anything about what Em should eat, or how much, or how she should avoid certain foods. She may have been exhausted but she knew it was Blake. The tail end of their conversation was the only evidence she needed to know he'd said something about keeping suggestions quiet.

Em hated to admit it, but it was glorious. She got to watch Dan eat an actual meal that he enjoyed and she was even hungry for the first time in a while. Finishing the whole plate was a challenge but she ate slowly, sipping her drink and putting her fork down when it was finished. The fond look on Dan's face was everything.

The three others at the table looked at her surprised when Em nodded and took a dessert menu. Michael wasn't having one and she didn't want Blake to have his birthday dessert alone. It was easy to pick a strawberry and apple crumble and ask for a second spoon. She ate it carefully in layers, smiling as Dan took a couple of spoonfuls of fruit and left the icecream for her. She ignored the looks Michael gave them as they shared, the plain green tea sat in front of him telling her everything she needed to know.

It was an early night by birthday celebration standards but with the race the next morning they didn't have a choice. It was a hug for Blake and a promise that tomorrow night would involve drinks and dancing and fun. She'd get through it for him, he deserved it.

As soon as the door to their hotel room closed and the latch went on their clothes disappeared to go to bed. The way Dan's arm had been around her waist was all Em needed to know that her husband needed her extra close that night. It was a quick trip to the bathroom to wash their faces and get themselves ready as Em pushed kisses across his face before dragging him to bed.

She really didn't think anything would happen between them, just holding each other and goodnight kisses. Dan had to get sleep before the race, but then his lips moved down her jaw and to her neck, one hand on her ass pulling her in as his knee slipped between her thighs. It was like a flame was lit in her, she needed her husband. She needed to feel him as close as possible. She needed to hear him whisper her name like a prayer, hands holding her tightly and leaving the fingertip bruises that sang she was his and nobody else's to the world. It was electric and everything she could have asked for, groaning Dan's name out as he begged her to tell him everything he made her feel.

Dan helped her up and helped her clean before she went back to bed with him, wrapped up in his arms to sleep. For once on a race night she was able to actually get asleep at a reasonable time, the lub-dub of Dan's heartbeat steady under her ear.

Getting up on race morning was the worst feeling. Em wished she could have stayed in bed. Staying there with a bottle of wine - even if she wasn't meant to be drinking because of her medication - hot water for her favourite tea, some snacks, the latest crappy romance series she was reading on her kindle, and maybe ice cream as she curled up beside Dan in bed would have been the best day. Instead she had to go to a paddock filled with people who wanted photos and autographs from Dan.

If she had her choice she'd stay back in the hotel with her favourite people but she couldn't. She had to make herself look presentable because cameras didn't lie, and she didn't need another "concerned" instagram commenter asking about if she was ok because of a photo where she didn't look perfect. Dan didn't care if her hair was a mess or if she wasn't wearing makeup or if she was in casual clothes, but the world did. So she forced herself up and prettied herself and was ready to leave. It took a deep breath as she held Dan's hand and walked out of the bubble of their hotel room. They were going to their house that night. She could make it work.

The entire drive to the circuit was cuddling under Dan's arm. Holding his hand on the backseat wasn't enough for her. She needed Dan to hold her until they got there and had to let go, and he never ever complained about it.

It was another morning of faking smiles in front of everyone, cameras recording and fans taking photos and calling Dan's name. She'd put her earplugs in before they even reached the circuit to block some of the noise but it didn't fully help. She focused on Dan's warm hand in hers and took deep breaths to keep herself calm. Em ignored the cameras and photographers watching them, instead looking at her husband and at Blake to remind herself she wasn't alone. She focused on Dan's fingers squeezing her hand. He'd promised not to let her go and he wouldn't.

Once she settled down in his driver's room he kissed her goodbye to go to the different race morning duties he had, making sure she was ok. Dan promised to see her as soon as he could and Em sat there and breathed deeply, earplugs replaced with her Beats to match Dan's and music playing. A couple more hours and they were out of there. Dan just had to go around the track and then they were free to go home. Back to their actual house to get changed and celebrate Blake, and go back to sleep on that mattress she'd already fallen in love with.

Dan came back up to get changed, Em standing up to go back to the garage with him. He'd taken the time to come up and give them enough time to see each other and make her feel better before facing the cameras. Usually he was surrounded by Blake and Michael before getting ready but this time it was just the two of them in a moment alone.

When he pulled his shirt off he took the necklace he was wearing off too, handing his rings over to Em to keep safe. She watched him get into the nomex and saw just how slim he was getting. Let the year end. Just let it end. As he stood and stretched he held out his right hand, Em taking it with her left. Just like they had in Baku and Montreal already this year they were going to the garage together. He was walking through the paddock holding her hand and not caring what the world thought. Reason one million why Em loved him.

"Ready to go?" She thought she'd hidden how she was feeling but it was clear from Dan's reaction that she hadn't really.

"You know, right?" Em whispered in response to avoid his question with the one she knew the answer to. They'd tattooed it to keep it front of mind.

"I know, Baby Girl. I love you too." Dan nodded and raised their joined hands to kiss her ring finger. Like always her wedding and engagement ring were on her necklace hiding below her shirt, Dan's joining them for safe keeping for the race. He'd be allowed wear it but that meant publicity and neither of them wanted that.

"Good. Go fast, be safe, and come back to me. Please." She nearly got it out without the final word but Em couldn't help herself, looking up at Dan and trying not to cry. Please be safe. Please come home. She was panicking more and more about what he did.

"I always will."

It was one final kiss and a long hug before they left the room. Blake was standing outside the door waiting for them, clearing a path through the crowd to get them into the garage and away from prying eyes and just where the tv cameras could catch her but nobody else. It was clear he didn't want to leave where she stood, but one nod from their best friend and Dan kissed her on the forehead and went to get into the car.

Em wished he never did.

Qualifying was bad, but finishing second to last was even worse. He'd been overtaken by nearly everyone he qualified ahead of, and he was forever behind a Haas. As much as she adored Mick Dan shouldn't have been down there with him. As soon as he was weighed he came straight to her, the two of them finding a corner to just be for a few moments before the real world had to intrude again. She knew Blake and Michael were making excuses but she didn't care, arms around Dan and holding him tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Emmy. I'm sorry I fucked up and disappointed you." The heartbreak in his voice was too easy to hear and she was so angry that he thought she could be disappointed in him.

"Hey, no. No, Danny. You can never disappoint me. Not ever. Not about a result in a race. I love you. I love my husband. I love my Danny. Fuck this entire circus, I care about you. Not cars on a track."

"I love you too. So fuckin' much. You don't know how much I do."

"I've a slight idea. You're gonna be ok. We're gonna be fine. Three to go."

"Three left. Yeah." He was quiet for a moment and she could feel him taking a deep breath in. "I don't wanna go to media."

"I'll pay the fine if you want. I offered to in Monaco. Whatever makes you happy." She nearly thought he'd take it, but instead she watched as he stood up and pressed his thumb against where he knew their rings hung on her necklace as if for good luck.

"I'll see you after? We can go and pick up our bags from the hotel before we go to dinner with everyone."

"Sounds like a plan, I'll pack up." She went to separate but took her necklace off, unthreading her thin gold wedding ring from the chain before putting it back on. Dan watched as she held it up before handing it over. "For your pinkie. I'm right there with you while you're doing it."

It took everything in her to let Dan leave and go in front of the media. She knew some of the reporters, knew the ones who'd be good to him and wouldn't ask awkward questions that left him with no hope for a good answer. They could leave soon and that was what mattered.

Her brain kept boiling over with revenge plots that she knew in her heart and soul she couldn't let happen. She couldn't destroy McLaren, as much as she wished she could. It would hurt more than help. So instead she focused on putting everything into backpacks. Usually it was done neatly, clothes folded and cables coiled up. This time she just put it all in as fast as she could. She wanted to be out of the room the moment Dan arrived up to say they were free. The TV in the corner was playing an interview with him, and the moment "I don't know how I'm continuing to continue on" came out of his mouth she was so angry. She needed to be out of the circuit.

Everything was nearly done when she heard it. The remote was in her right hand to switch the TV off when Zak Brown's face appeared on it talking about Dan's performance and how he wasn't performing. She knew but seeing him talk about personal problems made her want to scream.

Em remembered Dan's description of his anger that day in Baku when the photo of them was made public. The way everything took over because the woman he loved was hurt and he couldn't change it. He had to control himself because Em needed him. And that evening in Austin she felt the exact same way, but this time there was nobody else to stop her. Without a second thought her fist made contact with the metal door hiding her from the world, a sickening crunch heard as she made contact.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Em clutched her hand to her chest as she stared at the dent in the metal door of the drivers room. She hadn’t meant to do that. It was supposed to be a little hit just to get her frustration out. Instead she couldn’t bend her fingers and she wanted to cry.

The fucking race and Zak Brown opening his fucking mouth because he couldn’t stand that the attention wasn’t on McLaren for one damn weekend. But no he had to say the cost cap penalty wasn’t enough and talk shit about Dan and if it was his face or the door at least his face wouldn’t have hurt so much.

“Ems? You ok?” She looked up to see Blake walk into the room as concern spread across his face. “TimTam what happened?”

“Punched the door.” He moved her hand and she groaned while a tear fell. “Fuck that hurts.”

“I want Michael to look, I think you might have broken it.”

“I’ll be fine till we get to Mexico. I just need to get out of here. Please Blakey.”

She nearly got through to him and convinced him to stay quiet until the door opened and Dan and Michael arrived in.

“Emmy?”

“She punched the door, her hand’s swelling up and it’s already starting to bruise. I think she might—“

“Don’t say it. Just don’t.” She was hanging on by a thread. Someone actually saying it was broken would make her lose every moment of composure she had left.

“Let me take a look.” Dan held her waist as Michael got her to twist her wrist. Flexing her fingers was completely out of the question and even in the ten minutes since it happened it was clear that her hand was swelling quickly.

“Looks like a boxers fracture Wriggle, but you need an X-ray. It might be the finger beside it too. Hospital.”

“I can’t go to the hospital. If I get spotted? If someone realises I’m there? It’s more bad fucking publicity. I’ll be fine.” She rambled for another minute before Dan stopped her with a kiss.

“Give us a sec?” Blake and Michael left the room to let them be alone and Em looked up at Dan. “You need to go, Baby. You need to. I don’t want my wife getting any more injured. I’ll go with you and we’ll be in and out and it’ll be fine. But please. I need to make sure you’re ok.”

“Fine.”

She didn't know how they managed to get out of the circuit without attracting more attention but she would forever be happy about it. Blake found a hotel near their house and pulled up, Dan walking in with her wearing a Ric3 hat to try avoid attention. He had to fill in the paperwork because she couldn't balance the clipboard with her injured hand. Em grinned watching Dan put her married name on the sheet and marking himself as her husband. The hospital needed to know it.

The triage was miserable and she was called back with Dan, leaving Michael and Blake behind. They did the same tests before and then asked Dan to leave the room for a few moments to go out to the waiting area. Her anxiety was ratcheting up as he left after the confirmation that she'd broken a bone in her hand, the medical staff asking her exactly how it had happened and if she was protecting herself. She didn't understand why they were asking until it was too late and Em was left alone in a room with a doctor and nurse.

"You can tell us what's going on. We can protect you." Her exhausted and anxious brain didn't make the connection.

"Protect me from what? A door I won't see again because this was Dan's last race there for...possibly forever? I'm not going to punch it again. I just want to get fixed up and go home."

"Is home safe for you, Mrs Ricciardo?"

They didn't ask that. They didn't. They couldn't. Home was the only safe place she had left in the world. Whether it was the farm, the apartment in London or one of the ridiculous places they called home it was safe for her. Anywhere that wasn't another Hilton hotel room was safe. Lying down with her husband and feeling him hold her was the best thing she had going for her. That was what she needed, to curl up with Dan on their mattress and have him hold her and tell her it was going to be ok.

"Home is my safe place. I've got my home and my husband and my family. Why are you asking this? Where's my husband? Why did you make him leave?"

"We think it might be better for you to-" The soft voice of the nurse made her angry. They were trying to convince her that something was wrong and as little as Em believed in her brain right then she knew Dan was right. He was the glue holding her together.

"You don't know me. You don't know what's best for me. You have no idea. I want my husband. Please. I just want my Danny. why isn't he here?"

"Ma'am, we're just trying to protect you." Em shuffled back on the bed, away from the nurse who had medication in her hand.

"Are you not listening to me? There's nobody to protect me from! I told you already, I punched a door in COTA. My husband didn't do anything, I'm the one who made a stupid mistake. Go ask anyone out there or my therapist or my psychiatrist, my husband isn't a violent man. Danny wouldn't hurt a fly. Why aren't you listening to me? Isn't that supposed to be your job to listen?" The yelling in her head was getting even worse, she didn't want to be there. She wanted Danny and could feel the tears pricking against her eyelids as she shut her eyes. She just wanted Danny.

"Mrs Ricciardo, please. Let-"

"Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me. I want my hand fixed, and if you think you're touching me you're only doing it in front of my husband or brother. I'm not doing it without them here."

She felt ridiculous. She was like a child throwing a tantrum but her head was screaming. She felt like her skin was on fire, the questions and insinuations about Dan making it even harder to think. Her broken hand was held against her chest as she brought her knees up, good arm wrapping around her legs.

The medical staff moved away from her and Em focused her breathing. She could do it. She'd be ok. If they didn't let her go she could run the second the door was open. She couldn't stay. The boys were outside and she knew they wouldn't leave her alone. They were just sitting outside and she could go out to them once the doctor was gone. All Em could do was try to hold herself together until she could go back outside.

-

When Dan came back out Blake could tell something was seriously wrong. His best mate was shaking his head, worry and fear spread across his features.

"DR?"

"They think I'm hurting her. They think I'm hurting Emmy. My Emmy? I...they think I broke her hand. The doctor all but wrestled me out of the room. She was crying and they made me leave. They might want to keep her in. I heard someone mention a psych consult for her room. B I can't. She can't." The guilt rushed through Blake's veins at the mention. They knew how fragile Em was. It was obvious that she'd barely made it through the weekend, they all knew that she was barely keeping herself together. But he thought Dan needed him more and left her alone and this had happened.

"It's gonna be ok. She's not staying here. It's not happening." He didn't know where the conviction came from but it did. "They came over and said they needed her insurance information. I have some stuff but you need all of it. Plus pay whatever they need before she comes out and you have to tell her whatever the treatment costs. I'll be here for when she comes back."

"Yeah. Yeah. Thanks. Both of you, I dunno what we'd do. She has to get out."

"She will. Go." He watched Dan be directed to a back office before sitting down and thinking who he could call. Who had the pull here? He wasn't sure.

"Maybe it's better she stays here. Em needs help. Travelling isn't helping. She can get better and Dan can focus on racing and after the season's over she can come back." Blake didn't believe what he'd heard.

"Take that back."

"We both know she's struggling. And you won't let me help her physically at least. Maybe this is a good thing." Michael sounded so sure and that felt like a kick in the teeth.

"We're in Texas. Austin's the good part of it but this state is dangerous for women. Add to that do you really think he'd focus? After how he was when she left. And the one person who calms her down is Dan. Why do you think I keep changing his schedule to give them five minutes?"

"But if she needs-"

"No. Just fucking no. You're fired." Dan had been considering it but after this? Once the season was up he was done. So done.

"Huh?"

"We'll talk about it later. But go back to the hotel. I don't know where we're staying tonight but just go. I don't want you anywhere near her. Not a fucking chance. Get out and stay away." Michael stood to leave as Dan came back, confused.

"What happened?"

"He's going back to the hotel. Remember we were talking about him leaving at the end of the year? I told him."

"But..." Blake didn't want to do it. Didn't want to shove another thing on his best mate's plate. He couldn't.

"He thinks Em might be better staying. He's worried about her too. I told him to go back to the hotel, it's stressful."

"If it was London or Perth I might say yes. She's been sleepy, she's been miserable. Getting out of bed is impossible. But not here, I can't leave her in the States. We just need to get to Abu Dhabi. We can get her there?" He was nearly begging and Blake nodded. Whatever it took he was getting them through the next four weeks. However he could.

"Mr Ricciardo?" An unfamiliar nurse came over and Blake stood at the same time Dan did. "Your wife needs painkillers and a cast. They want to get a psychiatrist down for her but there's nobody on call tonight. I'm assuming from what she said she has one?"

"Yeah. And a therapist. It's been helping but this year has been bad." Understatement of the fucking year as far as Blake was concerned.

"I'm a fan, I know what's happening. I've got an ortho to wrap her hand and get you both out but she won't let anyone in unless it's you or her brother? I don't want them seeing you there, is her brother here?"

"That's me." He watched her take in the clear differences between him and Em, the accents being the most prominent.

"Parent trapped or something? As long as she says you are that's what matters. Come back and we can get her out in ten."

"Deal." He followed her straight back, terrified to see how Em was when he got to the room.

-

Em was ready to fight anyone when she saw the door open, a new nurse walking in with an IV kit in her hand. But Blake was standing right behind her and Em thought she could breathe again.

"B?"

"Hey Timmy." He came straight over and took her right hand, squeezing once and it was like the crushing weight on her chest lifted slightly.

"Where's...I don't know where Dan is? A doctor took him out to ask him questions and they think he hurt me and they don't believe me? I told them. I told them what I did but they didn't believe me."

"It's ok Emmy, calm down. I'm right here, I told them it was you who hit the door. It's fine. Dan's fine, he's out there filling in forms and billing stuff so he asked me to come back to stay with you. You know what American hospitals are like." She started to calm until the bill hit her. This was going to be insane and he shouldn't have to pay it.

"No, no it's gonna be so exp-"

"You think that health insurance we have doesn't cover America? He just has to give details. As soon as you came on full time he added you to the health insurance. It's all good."

"Thanks Blakey."

"Any time, Timtam. But you need to let the nurse do it, ok? It's just a painkiller so they can set your cast. There's a new doctor who isn't a dick outside. But they can't do it unless you've got fluids and a painkiller cause it'll hurt."

"I dunno what I can take with my medication. I don't want to feel fuzzy." Tears of frustration were there about to fall. She didn't want to talk. She wanted to go back to when she didn't need to talk because Dan knew what she meant. It was too much.

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I do." It was the honest truth. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone, even herself.

"Then let her give you this so you can get fixed up and we can go home. It's all good."

The only reason she agreed was because Blake asked her. He was safe. He was always safe. He was the reason she came back in the end, the reason she agreed to go to Monaco and see Dan again. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her, and she knew that. So she took a deep breath and squeezed his good hand as the needle went into her elbow, the nurse showing her the bag of saline and the bottle of IV paracetamol before it was hooked up.

Blake held her while they went through everything, a thick white cast wrapped around her hand feeling heavy as she sat there. He kept telling her how brave she was and how good she was doing while Em just sat looked at the floor. Once she was ready to leave he helped her up and put his hoodie around her, the nurse smiling and wishing her well.

If Blake didn't have an arm around her shoulders she would have fallen when she saw Dan outside. His eyes were red, face in a frown and he just looked defeated. He hadn't looked like that since they'd gotten the call that his contract was being ended. Her husband sat in an empty corner of the hospital waiting room with a cap on trying to be unnoticed, totally lost in his thoughts. It wasn't until Blake called him that he realised they were there, standing up and arms immediately going around her. Em felt like she could finally, finally breathe again.

"Can we go home? Please?" She whispered against his chest. The terror that someone would hear and not let her leave was all encompassing.

"Let's get out of here. I finished all the paperwork, they said you were just finishing up. We're all good, let's go home."

"Can we stop for pizza? I want cheese pizza and they said I need to eat." Dan had his arm around her directing her out, agreeing that they'd stop. "Wait. Where's Michael?"

"He went back to the hotel to pack, it's all good. Let's head." Blake led the way to the car so they could finally leave. Em slid into the back seat, Dan across from her and holding her hand.

She didn't remember much of the drive back to the house. She knew they stopped for pizza, Blake getting back in the car with boxes. There was a conversation about what the official story would be, how they'd tell people she'd broken her hand. Honestly she didn't care. She didn't want to give a shit about telling people what she was doing or how she'd been hurt but she didn't have a choice in that anymore. The world got to know everything about her.

When they made it inside Dan brought her to their room, helping her get her jeans and bra off and instead putting on cosy pjs. Blake had seen her in worse, this didn't matter to her. Instead he brought her back to the kitchen where Blake had shared their food out.

She made herself eat two slices and it was enough, after that Em curled into Dan and held onto him so tightly she thought she'd burst. The painkillers had dulled her hand to a throb and she just wanted to sleep. There was talk of moving a flight and sorting stuff and she didn't care. She just wanted to sleep.

But there was a voice in the back of her head getting louder and louder. Dan wiped her face down with micellar water and helped her into bed, pulling her close once he'd stripped down. Her ring was still on his pinkie and it made her smile.

But she'd tied him down to a crazy wife who couldn't keep her shit together. She'd given him the option in Montreal. Chloe had told her about a walk up Mont Royale where you could see the city laid out beneath you. She'd said it to Dan then, that he could leave. She wouldn't blame him for leaving then. He could go and be happy and find someone who deserved him.

He didn't sign up for a girlfriend with mental health problems. Who was having a breakdown and ruining their lives. Who had days where speaking was too much for her, the words wouldn't come.

It had happened since she was a kid. Maybe not exactly like this but she'd always had to find coping mechanisms and now it didn't work. It wasn't her fault as a kid when her parents wouldn't help her and when she was in uni and couldn't afford anything apart from the six sessions from her uni gave her of therapy. But it definitely wasn't Dan's responsibility.

He deserved to be happy, he deserved to be with someone who loved him and wanted him to take a reserve role or the job with Haas. He deserved a happy wife and life and a family that she didn't know if she could give him. She didn't know if her anxiety would ruin them. It was so much.

So she was going to tell him he could leave. He deserved the world and maybe she wasn't the one to give it to him. She couldn't pull him out of drowning and she'd pull him down with her. She was going to ruin him and his reputation and his life, and she couldn't do that to him. She couldn't hurt him the way her mental health had hurt her. Anyone in their right mind would have walked away from her by then, but with the stress no wonder Dan didn't. Everyone else had left. Her parents, her extended family, her friends, her boyfriend. But Dan had been emotional and she'd proposed to him and it was so wrong. She'd basically forced him into it. It was a stupid, stupid decision and she'd ruined his life by doing it. So she was letting him go for his own good. He'd be happy to.

"Baby? Emmy you're crying. Do you need more painkillers? What's going on?" She hadn't realised she was crying. She didn't even mean to. Em took a deep breath before saying the words that were going to ruin her.

"I won't blame you. Y'know. If you want to leave. We've only been married for nine weeks, you can leave. No fault divorce, we leave with what we came in with. I don't want anything. You deserve better than a broken wife who can't keep herself together. I don't want to hold you back. I don't want anything. I can go."

The room was silent and Em could feel her heart break the longer the silence went on. It was over. Married for nine weeks to the love of her life and she had just ended it. In the same room he'd proposed to her so they could get married properly less than a week ago. How had she said yes then? She went to move out of the bed but Dan's iron grip kept hold of her.

"Don't ever say that. Never. Never ever. You are the only woman I want in my life. You're not broken, Emmy. You are here and whole and alive and beside me. I can't lose you. Please don't ask me that. Please don't ask me to leave you because I can't. I'd walk away from all of this before I lose you. You're my wife, Emmy. I promised I love you. I'm not leaving."

"You're not leaving?"

"No. I'm not going anywhere. Never. The day I got to put that ring on your finger was the best day of my life. I love you. The same way you love all of me for some reason. We're gonna fly to Mexico in a few days and we're gonna make you feel better. It's gonna take time, but we're going to be here. It's going to work. I promise. Come and sleep, Love. I'm not going anywhere."

Em curled into him, pushing a kiss against his chest. Sleep didn't come easily to her, but the noise of Dan's heartbeat and the warmth of him against her let her finally sleep.

@dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiphobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @elizanav @neiich @luckyladycreator2 @scotlynaurora @belledawnidk

[matthewswifeee]

Reunited

In which you haven't seen or spoken to the triplets in over 3 years because of your messy relationship issues. . TW: Mentions of domestic violence (Not by any of the triplets) . And btw I never proof read. .

Three years... it has been three whole years and I find myself pulling into the drive way of a very familiar house. Danny, my now ex boyfriend and I just got into a huge fight...once again.

I can't do this, I think to myself as I continue to sob in the drivers seat of my car. Maybe I should just go home now and save my self the embarrassment. "They're gonna move away and forget all about you" Danny's word replay in my head over and over. "They don't have time for you" "They're actually making something of themselves what do they need you for" "Save them the trouble of having to deal with you and all your problems" his words replay again in my head, they probably haven't even thought about me all this time, I say to myself before hitting the steering wheel and snapping myself out of my thoughts.

I can't say that I haven't done this before, sat in their drive way trying to build up the courage to show my face again, but this happens every time. I think about Danny and all the things he has imbedded in my brain about them and how they feel towards me and I chicken out and run back home to him. I always walk back into that house that is supposed to be my home and stay with the terrible man that I've built somewhat of a life with.

I look down at the shining diamond ring placed on my left hand and think, there is no way I can marry him. I've been engaged to this terrible man for almost two years and ever since he's put this ring on my finger it has all gotten worse and worse by the day. Every time I pull into this drive way I tell myself it's the last time and when I leave without getting out of the car once again I won't come back, I can't come back and ruin their lives.

.

.

.

MATT'S POV:

"She's here again" Chris says looking through the curtains of our living room making Nick and I both get up to look with him. I can see her crying, she does this every time. She sits in the car and cries like something I've never seen before then she pulls her self back together and drives back off. "Come on" Nick whispers hoping that she'll actually get out of the car. "She's been there for awhile maybe tonight's the night" Chris says with hope.

We know how terrible her boyfriend is, but we also know that she always goes back to him and it's not her fault that he's found every kind of way to control and manipulate her. "Wait look" I say seeing something shining through her windshield. "No" Chris says noticing it too. "You don't think they're getting married, right" Nick says but it sorta comes out as more of a question.

"That has to be why she's here" I say, "And why she hasn't left yet" Chris adds on, she knows she can't marry him the rest of her life would be gone. We've seen the bruises every time she pulls into the driveway and it just get worse and worse, If she were to actually marry him she'd be stuck forever there's no way she would leave him.

.

.

.

"Fuck" I shout trying to snap myself back into reality. I have to do this, I have to go inside... If I don't Danny is going to end up killing me. I reach for the door handle and take one last breath before opening it. I place one foot on the ground and feel myself start to tremble with anxiety and fear, I'm not scared of the boys I'm scared of them not wanting to speak to me again.

I close the car door and take yet another deep breath before pulling at the sleeves of my sweatshirt and making my way to the front door and knocking on it. I can feel my heart thumping when suddenly the door swings open reveling Matt with Chris and Nick both just a few feet behind him. I go to open my mouth and speak but all that comes out is a cry and I fall into Matt's arms.

Matt and I were always the closest, I mean we were so close to being in a relationship until I met Danny and he made me feel like Matt would never want me. He used to tell me that I would just mess up Matt's life because the boys were moving to LA and that he would be way more interested in girls out there that he would just leave me anyways. Of course I believed him I mean what other choice did I have.

"It's ok, it's ok, I got you" Matt whispers as he holds me tightly and I sob into his chest. "I can't do it anymore" I cry as I pull away from Matt and wipe my tears with the sleeves of my sweatshirt. "Hey" Chris says placing his hand on my shoulder "We're here now" he says reassuring me that every thing is going to be alright and giving me a hug. "You don't have to go back anymore" Nick says also hugging me.

.

.

.

After a few hours of the boys and I catching up they offered to let me spend the night.

"You can stay in my room" Matt says as we're talking about where I was going to sleep. "I don't want to put any of you out of your bed" I say not wanting any of them to give up their room for me. "It's fine (Y/n) I really don't mind" Matt says tying to get me to accept his offer. "Matt can sleep with me that way you don't have to feel bad about his sleeping on the couch" Chris says also trying to get me to feel better about sleeping in Matt's room. "Fine" I say finally giving in.

The four of us all get ready for bed when I quickly realize I have nothing to sleep in. "Matt" I say standing in Chris' doorway and he walks over to me. "Can I borrow something to sleep in" I ask and he leads me to his room, opening the closet. "Take whatever you want" Matt says then he leaves the room. I get changed into one of Matt's t-shirts and quickly get into bed, I was so exhausted it was unbelievable. As soon as I shut my eyes my phone lights up with a text from Danny, do not look, I think to myself. After a few minutes of tossing and turning I couldn't help myself but look at all of his messages.

Baby when are you coming home

im sorry

babe

(Y/n)

Please come home

Baby please I need you

I drove past and saw your car at their house...

You know they dont want you there

They dont care about you anymore

I told you Matt and Chris are just trying to get in your pants

Thats all you are to them

You mean nothing to them they think your worthless

At least I love you come on babe

Come home it was one stupid fight

I didn't mean for this all to happen (Y/n) I love you

I wont ever do it again I promise

I went out and bought you that neckless you've been wanting

(Y/n) just come home or I will come get you

He won't ever stop, what if I just go home then maybe he'll stop all of this. Maybe if I go home this will be the time he actually changes, I think to myself. After I read all of the messages from Danny I began to feel sick to my stomach. I sit up on the edge of Matt's bed, bringing a hand to my chest to feel my heart beating at a rapid pace as my mouth starts to water I get up and bolt for the bathroom across the hall.

"Hey hey hey, I got you" Matt says rushing to my side to hold back my hair and rub my back as I'm spilling my guts into the toilet in front of us. I feel the tears start to form in my eyes again thinking about how much control Danny has over me, how he's the reason for me being like this. I was so scared of him and what he might do that it was physically making me sick. After I was done puking Matt and I sat on the bathroom floor for a minute as I tried to pull myself back together.

"Can I ask you something" Matt says and I nod my head in response. "What happened, like what made you actually come here and leave Danny" Matt asked sounding concerned yet curious at the same time, I knew he could see the bruises and scars covering my skin now that I was wearing nothing but the oversized t-shirt I borrowed from him. I take a deep breath before deciding if I was actually ready to tell Matt what happened earlier in the day. "He um... he, he hit me...again...like bad this time" I manage to choke out and I see Matt's soft expression turn even softer as he grabs my hand.

"My sister was in town this weekend and she stopped over before she had to go to her work conference and Danny he um, he got home just before she was leaving then after she left it's like the switch flipped and he became the monster again" I start to tell Matt what had happened, this story similar yet so different to the many others. I could tell Matt was listening and letting me take my time just by the expression on his face, he kept his hand placed in mine and let me continue my story. "He um... he started yelling about how I had company over and I didn't tell him, I didn't have dinner done, I didn't have on any makeup around my company and I let her see me looking disgusting" I continue on the verge of tears. "It's ok (Y/n)" Matt says in an attempt to reassure me that I was ok now. "The he-he slapped me and put his hands around my neck" I say beginning to cry. "He screamed in my face and told me that I don't deserve to be his wife, that-that I wasn't good enough to be with anyone and-and then he pushed me into the kitchen counter" I tell Matt having a flashback to the events that took place.

"You're such a worthless, stupid bitch" Danny shouts at me again as I begin to cry. "Stop fucking crying" he screams and I feel the familiar sting hit my check once more before he grabs me again by my wrists. "Stop fucking crying (Y/n) or I swear to god I will kill you" he shouts grinding his teeth as I try my best to choke back the tears.

"This is why all of your friends hate you and why your family doesn't want you because your a fucking crybaby bitch who can't do anything right" he shouts at me before hitting me once more. He drags me into our bedroom by my wrists "Since you're obviously not good for anything else you're going to do exactly what I want" Danny says unbuckling his belt. "Please no" I cry begging him not to do this again.

"You're supposed to be my fucking wife soon you have to do whatever the fuck I want" he yells at me as he pushes me down on the bed. I struggle to get his off of me but somehow, someway I do and I grab my purse and run for the door. I make it to my car and see that he surprisingly isn't following me. Today's the day I leave forever.

"I am so sorry (Y/n)" Matt says softly as he pulls me close to him as I cry. "I knew he was bad but I didn't think it was this bad" he whispers to me as he softly rubs my back. After I'm able to calm back down and stop reliving that moment that happened earlier in the night Matt and I just sit together in a peaceful silence. "Can-can you sleep with me tonight" I sorta hesitate to ask. "Yes" Matt says, he then helps me up off of the floor and we go back into his room laying down on opposite sides of the bed.

Sooo what do we think?? Should I do a part two?

Also comment to be on the tag list <3.

Have an amazing day my little sluts. mwah

[i-wanna-die-like-now]

I've been reading up on a ton of side effects that come with electrocution for my fic and it's been making me think about how some of the things can be used as a way for Danny to hide when his powers messed up early on, or I guess it could go hand in hand with a lot of the issues he had.

Like of course Danny would have trouble holding things like beakers and glass, muscle spasms, joint stiffness, nerve damage, tremors, dizziness and loss of balance. All of which can explain why he would trip and fall, and struggle to hold things. Who would immediately point at a struggling child that's recovering from electrocution and say intangibility! Because that sure wouldn't go well. Everyone knows he gets bullied, the bruises are easy enough to explain away and it's not like anyone would question him further on it. Especially with his loss of balance and clumsiness, it's an easy explanation.

Being alert all of the time in case a ghost attack? Simple, PTSD and anxiety (let's be real he definitely has those, probably all of Amity does at this point.) He wouldn't have to explain the accident because obviously, his brain blocked it out, he doesn't know why he was in the lab in the first place. Sam and Tucker are just as traumatized, watching their best friend almost die, no need to push for all of the details with traumatized kids when it's clear it was an accident.

His grades dropping? Well Reduced cognitive abilities, specifically verbal recall and attention span, on top of his Adhd that's a recipe for disaster. Can a heavily traumatized 14-year-old with a neurodevelopmental disorder really get punished for a drop in his grades? At the very least it explains why they have dropped and takes away the suspicion that he's out fighting ghosts, who would suspect that when he's clearly struggling with the effects of the accident.

Danny pulling away from his family? He's depressed and filled with anxiety and PTSD so why would his parents question it, the dark circles are just from long nights filled with nightmares and the inability to sleep, their baby boy wouldn't be sneaking out to fight ghosts in his condition. His self-destructive behaviour was the reason he's avoiding them, he needs to learn to come to them and accept help, for now they'll just leave him to it with small pushes and reminders they're there.

He gets uneasy around them because they always had their inventions and equipment with them obviously!!! He had just been involved in a huge accident involving one of their inventions, it's no wonder he gets so nervous when they malfunction and go off around him.

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 20

wooo we hit chapter 20!! yeaahhh

MASTAPOST

Beautiful, sunlit beaches blanketed the coastline underneath the street level where colourful tiles crisscrossed. An umbrella kept the heat away from the rustic wooden table at which the Fenton family, minus their youngest, and Bruce Wayne sat. The SAV sat peacefully by the pier where they had disembarked.

They had been sailing for the better part of the afternoon, finally stopping to pick up lunch at Jazz’s insistence. Mr Wayne’s insisted on paying, ever the rich philanthropist.

Jazz Fenton couldn’t be more worried, although she had to hide it. Sitting opposite her, Mr Wayne idly chatted with her parents about their college days. Once she knew what she was looking for, it was painfully obvious that he was interrogating them for information on Vlad Masters, another billionaire thorn in the family’s side (not that her parents knew).

She fidgeted. Her foot tapped repeatedly on the stop, arched to not make sounds that would give her state of general anxiety away. Once she told Tucker what was happening, the boy had gotten to work right away. It would take some time to locate the files containing the specs for the newest inventions, and then more time to analyse them and pinpoint what damage she could do.

She’d need to call Sam next. Tucker had given her the number for Sam’s spare, although there was no guarantee she’d be able to answer soon.

Until then, Jazz was on her own. She picked at her sweet and sour fish broth soup, rolling the tomato chunks around. If she gave herself food poisoning somehow, that might give the boys potentially a week to get away. Then again, there was an equal chance one of her parents would stay with her while the other went with Bruce.

As it was, she could definitely malinger a stomach issue, and delay them for maybe half an hour. Sirens swam quickly, so that time could be valuable for them.

“What about you, Jasmine? What got you interested in psychology?” Came Bruce Wayne’s baritone. Shit.

Jazz was startled out of her thoughts. Before she could open her mouth, she did an awareness check. A mental checklist of where she was and what she needed to do and not do appeared in her head. If she tipped off this man, then it could very lead to her brother underneath a scalpel. No pressure at all.

“Uhm, well. Mr Wa- Bruce.” Jazz found herself stuttering when talking about psychology for the first time in her life. Dammit. She looked to the side, where her father nodded like an excited puppy. Not helping, dad.

“Well I’ve always been interested in people, you see.” Jazz kept a close eye on Bruce Wayne’s posture, studying him. “What makes them upset. What makes them happy.”

She side-eyed her parents. On one side, her mother glared viciously at her fried fish. On the other, her father arranged fries into smiling faces.

“With this family, I’ve had a lot to think about.” That was a good start, right? With any luck, he would be the one to give something away, something she could use against him.

Bruce Wayne chuckled, an easy (fake?) smile worn like a mask. “I can certainly relate. Many times my boys have left me pulling my hair out. It’s a chaotic house most days.”

That was right! Jazz recalled the preliminary research she had done earlier in the day. Bruce Wayne was known to be an endlessly kind man, but suffered several interpersonal issues over the years. One was the notorious apparent teenage tantrum thrown by an 18-year-old Dick Grayson, shortly before his second son, Jason was adopted.

The less said about Jason’s unfortunate fate, the better. Although he may have been brought back, somehow??

She wasn’t sure whether to envy his therapist or not.

It had been exhausting teasing the truth out of the myriad gossip articles on the Wayne family. If Danny were here, he’d bully her relentlessly for going back on her noted disdain towards the ‘shallow and vapid celebrity news industry dedicated to turning private interpersonal conflicts into products to be consumed.’ Oh how the mighty have fallen.

What she could be reasonably sure of was that the present-day family dynamics of the Waynes were testy, to say the least. Apparently their youngest, the Damian who had disappeared into the waves just two days ago, had been dealing with violent tendencies for some time and had no patience for entertaining the elites like his brothers used to. And that was just the public stuff.

Right. She could work with this.

“Was it difficult? In the early days, with your first son.” Jazz said, putting on tones of sympathy and empathetic connection, the kind she would use when she’d try to get Danny to open up.

A pained look came over Bruce. That was good!

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to poke any sensitive issues.” She added with false franticness. The longer the ball was in Bruce Wayne’s court, the better.

Mr Wayne waved her off. “No, it’s fine. Just old memories.”

“Are they fond memories?”

“Yes. It was the happiest time of my life. There was a lot of adjustment. I was a bachelor in my twenties, and suddenly I had an entire child in my hands. Dick had me running around like a headless chicken half the time.”

“Did it get easier?” Jazz asked. The billionaire’s eyes almost glazed over.

“Not particularly. If anything, things got harder. I learned very quickly that experience raising one child does not entirely transfer to another.”

Oh, that was good. Jazz filed this information into her mental notebook.

“But enough about me and my old man troubles.” With that endlessly disarming smile, she could tell why people fell for the playboy turned beleaguered father. “If you’re looking for a good psycho-analysis, I’m afraid I’m a bit basic compared to what Gotham has to offer.”

Drat. Was she that obvious? No, he’d just talked about her psychology interest. She could handle this easily. She just needed to be careful what she said, and didn’t say.

“I guess you could say I’m interested in non-traditional family dynamics. My parents have always been… eccentric.”

“That’s the Fenton way!” Her father shouted. Several other patrons looked at them scathingly. “Too bad Jazzpants hates siren hunting almost as much as… as…” Her father’s expression sank.

That calculating look came back in full force. Dammit dad! She needed to salvage this.

“My feelings towards my parents’ profession aside, the evidence points very strongly to Phantom being connected to my brother’s disappearance. I may not enjoy the siren hunts, but my brother comes first. What else can I do? Sit home and do nothing?”

Her father clapped her back, grinning proudly. “You wouldn’t be doing nothing, sweetie! You’d be keeping Vladdie company!”

Yeah… Jazz mustered all her will power to hide the cringe.

 “And besides, have you seen my parents when they’re at work? Yesterday they spent like 36 hours straight preparing the SAV with only one single break.” Jazz’s head fell back. “They’d probably forget to eat if I weren’t here.”

“Hey that’s not true, Jazz! Your mother and I are excellent at this work-life balance you always babble about. Yesterday we took two breaks instead of one. Progress!”

Jazz gestured to her father with an exasperated sigh. “See what I mean?”

Bruce Wayne hummed. His head tilted in thought as he sampled his mackerel. “Have you always been this responsible, Jasmine?”

“Of course! Look, I may be sixteen, but I very much possess the maturity of an adult. If it’s my job to wrangle this family into healthy habits, then so be it.”

Bruce Wayne appeared to have something to say about that. Jazz’s phone buzzed at that moment, having been turned silent earlier. It was Tucker, you miracle worker.

She shot up from her chair, twisting her expression into an agonisied grimace. “Sorry I think I’m having a bathroom emergency. I’ll be right back!”

Jazz dashed away, feeling perfectly fine in the stomach, except for her nerves.

“I have questions.” Damian told him. They were well on their way south now, Danny’s tail swishing away at top speed. Mostly the boys stayed silent, enjoying each other’s company and the rushing of water.

“Shoot.” Danny said.

“Are you a male? Or is this merely an assumption that others have made?”

Danny sputtered. The question almost knocked him off course with how sudden it was. “W-What? Why would that be a question?”

Damian hummed. “My brothers have taught me not to make assumptions. In addition, siren biology seems heavily based off of fish, many of whom are hermaphroditic in some way.”

“Uhh…”

“Which leaves us with the question. What am I to call you? For most of time together, I have been thinking of you as a male. Was that incorrect of me to do so?”

Danny’s eyes subconsciously drifted to his navel. Was he actually biologically male anymore? He’d always assumed so, but being a half-siren in a siren-hating down didn’t leave much time to learn siren anatomy in and out.

Had he been a girl this entire time? No way… No, he always acted the same as he always acted. If he was a boy before being turned, and acted the same, he could be a boy now, right?

“Uhhh yes. I think I’m a boy. Maybe.”

“For that matter, I would like to inquire how sirens reproduce. Surely the turning of humans is not the only way your species increases its numbers?”

Danny’s face heated to boiling. Blue blushes crept down his cheeks and covered his neck. “Maybe you could ask your dad about human reproduction first?” He squeaked.

“I am already aware!” Damian grouched. “I believe I deserve to know the specifics of the body which I have been forced into.”

“What if I told you I didn’t even know where siren babies came from?” Which was a sad, sad lie, bullshit that Damian clearly saw through.

“Lies!”

Danny threw his hands up, which threw off his balance for a moment. “You’re tiny. Can you guarantee your dad won’t sell me to the GiW for telling you this stuff?”

“I absolutely can.”

“Not the point! Please ask something else. You ain’t getting crap out of me on that front. I am like Davy Jones’ locker. Zip. Shut. Tight. Not happening.”

Damian seethed. This close, Danny could feel the kid’s chest vibrate with growling sounds.

“Very well. What are sirens classed as?”

“Inhuman non-sentient sea monsters bent on the destruction of humans.”

His back stung as Damian slapped him with his tailfin. “Biologically!”

“I dunno! Do I look like I have a marine biology degree?” Danny shrugged.

Damian lowered his head. “So you are uneducated.”

“Hey, rude!” Biology was never Danny’s strong suit. His mother was the one with the however many PhDs. And Sam was the one campaigning for animal rights every other week. He was more of a space guy! This was not new information to Damian! “You tell me! You’re the kid with the animal obsession.”

“I shall lay out the evidence. On the one hand, we possess scales, gills and fins, like all fish do. However, the heat your blood, despite the cold water suggests warm-bloodedness. Furthermore, I have paid very close attention to you, and the female sirens we met in your cave.”

“And what did you see?” Danny tilted his head back.

“The nipples.” Damian ground out. “Which suggests breastfeeding, which is a mammalian trait. However, I am not sure if my own are because of my former status as a human. That is why I must ask you this.”

This was definitely going to be awkward. Danny preemptively suppressed the cringe reflex.

“Do sirens breastfeed?” Damian asked. Danny blanked at that one. Yeah. That question was a hard no clue. “Have you ever breastfed?”

Damian. Oh Damian. Kids just say the darnedest things. Damian. Danny’s cheeks heated up again. He squeaked out an answer. “N-no! I’ve been on my own in the ocean.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at him. Did suspicion have a smell? Because Danny felt like it did, and he was smelling it.

“Do siren parents not take care of their children?” Damian finally asked.

Danny thought back to Youngblood, how Ember basically made him her younger brother (which made her teasing of him for having Damian around totally hypocritical). It was in this moment that he realised he didn’t know any sirens outside his normal enemies. 99% of all times he had interacted with another siren. Hell, any other sea person, was when he was fighting them.

“Danny? Danny?” Damian’s voice raised.

Danny shook his head. “Sorry, I’m just thinking…”

He sounded so pitifully sad in that moment. When a series of familiar whale calls breached the surface, he eagerly welcomed the distraction.

“We’ve caught up to the whale pod!”

Damian gasped, attention turned fully away from his interrogation. “Where are they?”

Danny carried him forward, surging to greet Damian’s new friends again. However, what he saw chilled him.

About a hundred feet away there was a small boat with a flat open deck, a dingy vessel with barnacles coating its hull, and men carrying harpoons and operating cranes, pulling in a net that thrashed violently. And on the deck, tied up by rope and netting, was a baby whale.

Damian swore in a language he didn’t understand. Danny swore too.

Damian’s fins shot ramrod straight. His teeth bared with an inhuman growl. His hand went to the sword sheathed at his waist. He itched to sink it into the bodies of these treacherous men.

“Wait.” Danny said. Wait!? What a preposterous thought. They needed to save Dorothea and her pod now.

“Are you insane!?”

His companion’s voice lowered dangerously. “You realise if we attack them, then the GiW will know, right? The whalers will call for help, or get to shore and it’ll be on the news. We’ll be hunted again.”

Damian did not hesitate. “Do you intend to prioritise our own safety over that of an endangered species being poached illegally?”

Danny shook his head. “Nah. Let’s go fuck them up.”

[picturejasper20]

Danny Phantom needed better arcs (or why The Ghost and Molly Mcgee did it better)

I have been reading some old posts from Monotype on phantom, mainly those that talk about continuity and how Danny Phantom should have had better written arcs, with having plot threads and characters arcs being left open and often with no proper closure. In these posts Danny Phantom gets compared to series like Steven Universe and Gravity Falls in terms of how these shows use pacing and development to tell their stories.

So i was thinking since i usually talk about parallels between Danny Phantom and The Ghost and Molly Mcgee, why not compare the two? And you would think ¨why are you comparing an action superhero show to a more comedy slice of life show?¨ And let me tell you, considering what The Ghost and Molly Mcgee was able to pull off, i think it is more than fair to do this comparison.

I assume that most of my followers know what Danny Phantom is so i won't dive into what the series is about. In The Ghost and Molly Mcgee's case, for those who don't know, it is a series about Molly McGee and her family moving to an old house where a ghost named Scratch lives is in. Molly and Scratch become best friends over the course of the series, something that brings them issues along the way. While the series is more comedy slice of life, it has arcs that get explored through the show and there is a constant change in the characters and the world itself.

Having explained that, lets move to the comparison between these shows: I think it would be good to start with Danny Phantom trio development (Danny, Sam, Tucker) vs The Ghost and Molly Mcgee ¨Comet trio¨ (Molly, Scratch and Libby) development in the first season of each show.

So Danny as main character gets plenty of episodes about him. Some good examples of these are "Attack of the Killer Garage Sale", "What You Want", "Bitter Reunions", "My Brother's Keeper" and "Teacher of the Year". He gets an overall arc in the firsy season and the series as a whole. We can agree that in that way he is a well developed character.

But what about Sam and Tucker? Sam has "Parental Bonding", "Control Freaks" and maybe "Fanning the Flames". Tucker has "What You Want" and some in "Teacher of the Year" They also have some B plots that explore their characters in some episodes too...

However, they don't really feel that well developed? They don't even seem like to have a proper arc in contrast to Danny this season. Just some good scenes here and there.

In contrast The Ghost and Molly Mcgee has the three characters from the Comet Trio developing and changing through the season. -Molly has different episodes about learning to respect other people's boundaries better ("Mazel Tov, Libby!", "Ready, Set, Snow!") or how being positive all the time isn't always a good thing ( "All Systems No") -Libby has a whole arc about learning to overcome some of her anxieties and insecurities until she grows to be more confident of herself ( "Mazel Tov, Libby!" and "Talent Show") and she has episodes that explore other sides of her character. ( "Monumental Disaster", "Festival of Lights") -And Scratch- i could write a lot about him but he has some character growth every other episode and the changes he goes through Season 1 alone are very noticeable. He is a characters who just develops a lot in the series.

Overall, i think it is fair to say that the Comet Trio from The Ghost and Molly Mcgee is more developed and has better arcs when compared to the Phantom trio from Danny Phantom

Another example of this is how Valerie Gray and Ollie Chen character arcs get handled in both respective series. Both start as semi antagonists that are ghosthunters who fall in love with the main teenager character and hate ghosts but gradually change their views about it through the show.

The main difference is how Ollie Chen has more of a complete character arc while Valerie Gray doesn't.

Valerie was going through some good development around Season 1 and Season 2 with her motivations being explored and her relationship with Danny changing over time. She gets some good episodes on Season 1 and a few in the first half of Season 2. The problem is that after the "Flirting with Disaster" the show seemed to forget about Valerie for around half of its run until the penultimate episode of the series "D-Stabilized". And even then she never gets a proper conclusion to her learning about Danny being Phantom nor able to regret her past actions from previous episodes. She doesn't get to have speaking lines in the series finale ¨Phantom Planet¨ neither.

Comparing Valerie to Ollie Chen, it doesn't take too long for Ollie to learn that Molly has been hiding she has a ghost (Scratch) as her best friend. He learns about this near the end of the episode ¨I Wanna Dance with Some-Ollie¨.

This leaves him emotionally crushed and that gets explored in later episodes with him learning that all ghosts aren't evil and he changes his views about them. ("Frightmares on Main Street", "The Unhaunting of Brighton Video") He later has episodes that he confronts his family about these views they have too like "Welcome to NecroComic-Con".

I do have my issues with Ollie as character but one thing i can give him is that he has a completed character arc by the end of Season 2. He learns to overcome his hatred of ghosts and reflect on his past actions, trying to be better over time.

I think one factor is that The Ghost and Molly Mcgee had less issues with changing the status quo than Danny Phantom did. What happens in one episode can have an impact on later episodes and the characters change in these. This is because these shows came during different times but also that Tgamm had its characters arcs and development better planned from the start. Danny Phantom episodes were just written as the production went along and a lot of times the team didn't have a clear plan in mind of where things should go.

That doesn't mean that The Ghost and Molly Mcgee isn't without its flaws. Season 2 is kind of a mess in how it handles its arcs and some things should have been better paced. In spite of that, i think the series in a lot of ways did a better job at using continuity and arcs than what Danny Phantom did. There are more examples i could cite but these ones are the closest that come to mind to do this comparison.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #1

(I don't know if someone has already written this idea yet. If someone has tho please give me the info/link so I can read it. 👀

This might be the only prompt I do, because my brain likes to keep my creativity behind bars a majority of the time. That and anxiety. I've never done a post like this before. Also, most of my knowledge is from DP not DC. Please forgive me if I get something wrong.)

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.

short prompt #1 →

short prompt #2 →

✦

Lair of Mystery

The House of Mystery is Danny's lair or vacation lair(1) and ever since he outlived his friends and family(2), he's been coming to the House of Mystery whenever he needs a break from his kingly duties. Since it's the Infinite Realms, the HoM exists in every universe, but due to it not always being in the form of a literal house and difficult for outsiders to enter, it's never found. At least until now.

One day when he goes to the lair after (insert amount of time) he finds that the Justice League Dark have set up in his home. Initially, the JLD attack him but Danny puts a stop to that fast. It's his house, he can control anything inside it which includes anyone he deems an intruder. An interrogation more or less takes place, both parties are confused by the others presence, both sides get answers and are shocked by them. Danny because the JLD are a subdivision of a superhero agency that specializes in magic/the occult and the JLD because they've literally been using the house of a very powerful monarch without even knowing it.

Danny isn't angry the JLD are inside his house once he gets over the surprise. In fact, he's rather happy to have company of the non-ghost variety and is curious about their world full of superheroes and aliens. He comes to a decision. He will let the JLD continue to use his house as a base of operations if they are willing to agree to a few terms.

1. No one is to touch or use any artifacts they may find inside the HoM without his explicit permission. Some things are too dangerous for human hands to hold.

2. They seek him out of there is anything of the dead/occult variety threatening their world that they are unable to handle by themselves. (The JLD are shocked to learn of the King's past as a young hero as his explanation for this term. He misses those times and helping the JLD will also be another way to fulfill his obsession besides him being King.)

3. They spend time with him. Being the ruler of an infinitely expanding dimension gets pretty overwhelming and lonely at times. Even he needs a break. On top of missing his hero days, he misses the simpler times of being just a regular guy.

The JLD easily agree to his terms. From then on, they peacefully coexist in the HoM for many years to come. Danny is happier than he's been in a long time and so are the JLD because he's a wonderful host and has actually helped them with a few of their personal issues. Danny, having seen straight through his Captain Marvel form, gave Billy a fully furnished bedroom fit for a growing teenager and hidden from the others in the house. Danny and Billy hang out and play video games whenever they need to unwind with someone their age(3) with no secrets between them.

Danny helps Constantine with his soul contracts, seeing how they are fraying his soul and aging him prematurely. They have an easy camaraderie and sometimes share a bottle of whiskey together(4). Etc.

All is good.

Until some world ending threat of the dead/occult variety really does happen and the JLD call for Danny's help. He goes to them in full regalia with chainmail, breastplate with his hero symbol emblazoned on it, billowing, fur-collared purple cape with the cosmos displayed on the interior, a black crown incased in ice above his head with a sword of ghost ice in the hand that wears the newly dubbed Ring of (Peace?)(5). He doesn't even have to do anything. His presence alone is enough to intimidate the world ending threat into complete submission and is easily sent back into the Infinite Realms to face judgement for attacking the Living Realm.

This is how he's introduced to the rest of the Justice League. It's your choice on how they react and what happens beyond this point if you decide to take it further.

✦

This is entirely up for grabs and I wanna read whatever's written.

Notes:

(1) Your choice if it's his original lair or a vacation one depending on if you count Pariah's old castle as Danny's lair or not.

(2) Your choice if any of his friends or family members turn into ghosts.

(3) Danny is able to change the age of his form to an extent, an ability he inherited from his mentor, Clockwork. He uses it when he feels it would make it easier for other people to relate to him. He also has an eldritch form that he doesn't like to use in front of others unless he absolutely has to. You can leave any part of this detail out if you want to. I just thought it would be kinda cool and also a more subtle way of showing how powerful he is now.

(4) He is technically an adult (read several hundred years old) so he can partake if he wants to. Refer to note above this one.

(5) Should the function and name of the Ring of Rage change due to Danny being King or not? Your choice!

(*) Also, I read the House of Mystery is in a place called the Dreaming, a realm ruled by Morpheus the god of sleep and dreams. If this is truly the case, would it be plausible to say that Nocturne is just another one of Morpheus' forms? Would that mean the House of Mystery is in Nocturne's territory? If so, are Danny and Nocturne friends now? 👀

(*) the Dreaming is part of the Infinite Realms.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | V

Unexpected does not always mean unwelcome, but just because it is welcome, does not always make it right.

Read part four here

Pairing: sam kiszka x f!reader, jake kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), praise, dirty talk, teasing, slight male sub dynamic ig, begging, drinking, swearing, love triangle shit, you know the drill, sorry if I miss any!

hello lovely people 🤭 so happy to be back again. sorry this took so long, but i hope this meets your expectations. i love you all dearly and hope that you aren’t too upset with me for my small hiatus. i will say that thus far, I’ve kept the lyrics in chronological order mostly because they’ve always aligned with the chapter theme. now, they’re going to be mixed up a bit to fit a little better! anyway, without further ado, enjoy, don’t mind any grammar mistakes, and please be kind 🫶🏻

Of all the situations in the world, you figured this particular one would be at the top of the list for awkwardness. When Sam stepped into your home, the door latch loudly clasping shut behind him, you waited for the dread to seep in, for the whiplash of anxiety that so often accompanied the presence of the brothers. Instead, a bubble of anger formed in your chest. You were mad at him for not making a move sooner, and for only making one after Jake did. Upset at the fact he had no issue involving you in their twisted dynamic, or remorse for playing with your feelings. You were no longer blind, being strung along aimlessly by ignorance and emotion. Danny was right; you were in control of the situation, and you intended to prove that. No more guilt for a situation the two boys created, and long ago, at that. No more pain over a fate they chose for themselves.

Wordlessly, you made a move to the kitchen. He followed, unsure of how to verbally approach the thoughts he was having about you. You located another bottle of wine, calling to you with temptation greater than the one you had for the boy standing behind you. As you cracked the cap, sipping from the bottle with little care, you finally turned to face him. “Why are you here?” It took him a moment to process your blunt inquiry, curious about your sudden shift in perspective from the day prior.

“To see you.” He said, simple and to the point.

“Mmm,” you hummed, now much less embarrassed about your attire, or lack of, rather. It was a great head start to your course of action. “To see me, or to fuck me?” The alcohol was a violent instigator, disrupting any filter you would normally have on your thoughts.

“To see you.” He confirmed again, unwavering on his stance, but his gaze was drifting away from your face and settling on the parts of you he was previously so eager to discover. A smirk tugged at your lips, finding his loyalty to his answer funny. You could tell the truth was not within the words he spoke, and his curious eyes were giving him away.

“Okay, you’ve seen me. Want to leave, now?” The angry part of you had no sympathy for the boy you had been so desperately in love with. Although he was still the same person, the new perspective on him casted a different light, now. One that illuminated faults instead of solely positives. The love was the same, still craving his touch with a ferocity like no other, still so profound that it made your head spin and your chest ache. But, love was subject, because the idea of love in your mind was heavily dependent upon your imagination, reliant on the idea that Sam was perfect.

Your feelings were real, but no longer cemented with the notion that he could do no wrong. The pedestal was crumbling, cracking and falling more by the second, finally returning him back to common ground. He lost his ability to consume you entirely, his baggage weighing him down and giving you a chance to surface for some air. The angelic aura that surrounded him was laced with sin, but it made him all the more loveable. His imperfections lessened his ability, but made him more realistic than before. Perhaps your freedom to close the gap of the power imbalance worked more in his favour than anything else. Your momentary sense of control was exhilarating, allowing you to finally plant your feet firmly on the ground, but it only made you fall victim to him even further.

Love cannot be true without equality, and your new understanding of Sam gave you exactly that. The equal playing field resulted solely from the destruction of the barrier between idolization and acceptance. Harnessing control seemed like a way to regain your own power, but it was your biggest mistake thus far. Choosing to continue your dance with the devil only allowed you to shatter the world in which Sam could do no wrong, and learn to love him despite the flaws. It was only a matter of time before the realization seeped through the cracks of the false sense of control; the power did not belong in the hands of any of you, no matter the belief that it did.

Once again, the devil laughed loudly, remaining baffled at your inability to heed the warning.

“I can’t come see you unless I have a reason?” He asked, eyes still drinking in the way the red lace complimented you. “I like your company.”

“You can,” you nodded, showing him you weren’t contesting him on that specific point. “Just don’t think that’s why you came today.” You watched him, examining his face for any faltering expressions.

“Why do you think I’m here, then?” He asked, challenging you the same way you were challenging him. You didn’t respond right away, unsure of the correct answer to his question. You didn’t want to give yourself away, or let him know that you were aware of his history, but you had to make sure he knew you weren’t going to conform to his rules this time.

“To make sure I didn’t forget about our conversation, yesterday.” His eyes flickered to meet yours, curious that you caught on to his intent so quickly. “I didn’t forget, Sammy.” You whispered, voice barely breaking through the silence.

“You mean to tell me you had no intent when you opened the door like that?” His lips upturned in the corner, a smirk now painfully present. He was taunting you, begging for the upper hand to offset your head start. As much as he enjoyed your company, it did not make him completely willing to allow you control.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that, baby.” As you spoke, a flash of emotion crossed his eye, like a spark catching a fume of gasoline. As soon as it ignited, it burnt out in an instant. You weren’t sure if it was because he was covering his emotion, or if he was really that unbothered by the thought of you waiting for his brother. You were both well aware that the initial invitation inside was calling Jake’s name, rather than his. Still, that did not mean he was unwelcome, and he was planning to soak up every bit of hospitality you were willing to give him.

“So I am intruding?” He asked, expecting you to grovel for him to stay. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at his question.

“You’re not going to leave, Sam. Don’t pretend you will, because we both know it’s not true.” Instead of focusing on the shocked expression he was giving you, you held the bottle of wine to him, silently offering him a drink. Rather than responding, he took the bottle from you and unscrewed the cap, taking a long drink to wash down his distaste for you calling his bluff. He wasn’t sure what to expect of you, but this certainly wasn’t it. The version of you he’d seen yesterday was much different, timid and lovestruck by him. Now, you almost seemed bored, like you were waiting for him to prove himself to you. He was scared that Jake had already won the race, but fear was second to intrigue; he was enticed by the idea of winning you back. He was enticed by you, standing and speaking with so much confidence, your beauty never shining quite as bright as it did in that moment.

He knew he was an idiot for waiting so long, stupid for giving his brother a chance to make an advance. He was stupid for not letting you know how he felt about you sooner, always keeping his admiration silent and making you second guess yourself. He felt, if anything, he owed it to you to to let you express your distaste for his actions. So he played along, allowing you to rid yourself of any ill feelings, knowing he was bound to enjoy the process, anyway. Any attention from you was worth more than the world in his eyes. He let you take the lead, believing that he was doing it willingly; as much as he convinced himself that it was voluntary, he knew that you had him wrapped around your finger. The nights events would only solidify the fact even further, making the entanglement all the more dangerous.

That was the funny thing about your relationship; you both felt the need to harness control, but were both fools for each other. Desperately searching for a sense of power, but willing to give in at the simplest request. The defensive nature that you both tried to maintain, one that radiated with cockiness and carelessness for each other was just for show. You were one misspoken word away from cracking; the weight of his stare was overwhelming, begging to disrupt your entire process.

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, placing the bottle on the table, freeing his hands in anticipation of an advance. You gave him a soft smile, finding his confidence charming.

“So sure that if the time comes, I’ll even hold the door open for you.” Your words struck a nerve in him, but he didn’t break. “But, I’ll leave it unlocked, because I know you’ll come back.” His eyes were burning into you, making the temptation to reach out and touch him overwhelmingly strong. Still, you stood with your feet firmly planted to the ground, imploring him to make the first move. His head tilted to the side, watching you with curiosity. When he realized your play, a smile crossed his lips.

“So sure of yourself, but you haven’t done anything to make me want to stay, princess.” The pet name shook you to your core, shattering all of your values and consuming your thoughts with anything but purity. Both brothers were so charming, perfect with their words but in different ways. Jake made it unable to think about anything other than him, leaving you without a choice in wanting him. He stole the air from your lungs and made the suffering pleasurable. Sam gave you freedom of choice, but ensured to bury himself in every available thought, making the decision of keeping him around easier than anything else. The idea of choice was false from either side, but the ignorance to the truth was fantastic, making you believe you really had a say in the matter and in turn, making you fall for him further on your own accord. They were both evil, no doubt about that, but you were just as bad for allowing them the power over you.

“So far you haven’t done anything other than give me a headache.” You said, almost as if you were bored with the banter. You weren’t sure what came over you; the back talk, the taunting, the confidence all seemed to be new, summoned at the idea of Sam believing he was winning the argument. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was your annoyance with his insufferable attitude. Whatever it was, you had dug just deep enough under his skin for him to throw the act to the side. He was eager to get the rest of your clothes off, and the conversation was giving nothing other than annoyance to both of you. Without a response, he stepped towards you and pulled you into him by your hips in one swift motion. Before you could comprehend the sudden movement, his eyes were busy casting the familiar spell over you, drawing you into him without a second thought. Within a few seconds, his lips were on yours.

Your hand snaked around his neck, eager and accepting of the new position. The kiss was heated, different than the ones you had shared before. The bitterness of the wine lingered on your lips, offsetting the sweetness of your satisfaction. The gratification that coursed through your veins was heavily accredited to his willingness to give in, making you think that for a moment you had won the battle. In turn, that was true in a sense, but it had only laid the foundation for a war to begin. Your personal needs were fulfilled, the agenda was almost to completion, but the nagging voices in your mind were screaming at you to recognize that they were achieved at a cost. You wished, with his hands on you, his lips distracting you, that the voices would cease to exist. No matter which path you chose, there was some moral dilemma begging to be heard above the sinister power of the little devil that was controlling your every move. As delightful as his touch was, some part of you finally begun to understand that it was not the answer to your questions, or the solutions to your problems.

But, you were never one to deny pleasure, and pleasure was nothing compared to what he was capable of giving you.

You felt like you were melting into him, completely immersed in his presence and one with every movement. His hands were steady, holding you to him to make sure you knew he wasn’t backing down. Your chest was burning, heart racing at the idea of finally having him so intimately. Months of tension spent waiting for a moment of relief, begging for him to notice, was finally coming to an end, but not in a sweet confessional. It was heated, passionate and hungry, both of you feeling no need for any sort of formalities. The lust was primal, and seemingly desperate. Whether that was for each other, or just to prove a point, was unclear. Despite his arrogance moments earlier, he didn’t seem to have a plan in mind to progress. He wanted you to take charge, to allow yourself the opportunity to rid yourself of any frustrations or fears that you may have been experiencing previously. You were in control, and he was willing to do whatever he could to please you.

You parted for a moment, lungs aching for a breath. Your hands drifted downwards, fumbling with the bottom of his shirt. He released his hold, allowing you to pull it over his head and expose his upper body. Your eyes washed over his bare torso, wanting to admire him, but your hands were already guiding him backwards to one of the kitchen chairs. You felt like you were in a frenzy, needing to know every part of him and appreciate the detail, but unable to slow down to allow yourself to do so. You wanted all of him, but you wanted it right away. Waiting was out of the question; your patience had withered away long before he showed up at your doorstep.

Before he sat, he took a second to remove his jeans, leaving you both in the same position. Minimal fabric concealing the most intimate details, details that you were both eager to explore. Once he kicked his pants to the side, he allowed you to guide him down on the wooden chair. Before he could even settle himself in the seat, you had taken it upon yourself to make yourself comfortable in his lap. With your legs on either side of him, you placed your hand on his shoulder as you guided yourself into the new position. His hands found your hips again, showing his appreciation for your advance. He held you down on him, the small friction providing relief only for a few seconds.

“How’s that?” He hummed, the warmth of his palms searing into you, branding you with his touch. You knew in that moment, there was no escaping Sam. He had permanently engraved his essence within you, his name knotted around your tongue, his presence making home in your heart and his touch burrowing under your skin. He was like a parasite, showcasing it with his ability to latch on to you and take control, to slowly leech all life from you. The certain death was the most comforting part; you would never have to live without him, to feel the ache if he disappeared. “Still giving you that headache?” He mustered out, almost distracted from his jab by the slow roll of your hips against him. The gentle movement was barely causing any friction, yet it was grand enough to completely break his focus. You knew just as well as he did that your effect on him rivalled the one he had on you, and you were using it to your advantage.

“Shut up, Sam.” You snapped, feeling his hands find the clasp of your bra. With expert precision he unhooked it, the tension releasing instantly and the straps drifting down your shoulders.

“Hey, now. No need to be like that.” He cooed, the soft sound of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. The difference in bed between him and his brother was astounding; if you had spoke to Jake with even an ounce of the disrespect you were giving Sam, chastising would have been for certain, and punishment would be expected. Instead, Sam took the gentle approach, coaxing you with kindness to do what he do badly wanted. There was no authority in his tone or his touch, only need that could not be described with such simple words. He was completely at your disposal, willing to do anything you wanted with little argument. The similarities you’d seen previously had finally begun to divide, branching off to show you the different sides of both boys. Even with the differences, you still found yourself falling further for each of them with every moment that passed.

In one sense, your adoration for Sam was growing larger with every second, faster with every touch he ghosted over your skin. In another, the surge of emotion snowballed into guilt, feeling like you were betraying Jake by encouraging Sam’s advances. You vowed to fight, to settle the score and finish their endless battle for them, but you were slowly beginning to understand that the peace would come at risk of casualties; the casualty being you. Still, you walked into your own demise with content, just happy to be loved in the process. Your willingness to sacrifice your own sanity stemmed from the fact that the feeling of being loved by both boys was too grand to deny. As much as you wanted to believe your intent was selfless, that it was to protect lovers from future conflict like such, it was not wholly true. The biggest force was solely the desire to be with them, to be needed by them. You were drowning in your own feelings, but the water was warm, more comforting than the thought of never swimming again.

His fingers drifted over your shoulders, begging you to move just enough so he could remove the red fabric from you. You adhered to his silent plea, moving back from him and allowing him to slip the straps from your arms. He lazily tossed the bra to the floor, not even bothering to notice where it landed. Instead, his eyes were focused only on you, engraving the memory into his brain forever. His curious hands drifted to where the bra had been previously concealing you, his thumb brushing over your nipple, soft enough that you could have missed it. He leaned forward, lips connecting with the sensitive skin on your neck. He familiarized himself with you, his movements slow but calculated.

When the first breathy moan slipped past your lips, he was sure he could die in that moment, more content than he’d ever been. His actions were seemingly genuine, like all he was doing was for the sake of your pleasure. It was partially true, and he was happy that he could give you what you wanted, but it was more than that; every touch, kiss, all of the silent encouragement was selfishly motivated. Much like his brother, he was determined to make you fall victim to him, just so you never wanted to leave. The game was natural to them, but losing you was not something he was willing to do. As much as he hated to sacrifice his brothers feelings for his own sake, he didn’t care. In the end, he wanted you no matter the sacrifice or strife, and he was certain of it. For the time being, he made it a mission to make your decision easy, to make you want to come to him, to fall in to his arms as if you’d always belonged there.

He lowered his mouth, capturing your nipple in his mouth. A soft flick of his tongue over the sensitive bud sent a shiver down your spine. Your back arched, allowing him easier access to your chest. As you did so, his erection pressed further into your heat, intensifying your arousal. His mouth focused on one breast while his hand found your other. The two different sensations created a whole new feeling for you, quickly realizing that he also had a touch of magic within him as well. As if it were your new mantra, you found yourself blaming it on the Kiszka charm once again. You felt as if you’d been reciting that in your head more than anything else, chalking up every moment to a universal aura all of the siblings possessed. Deep down, you knew it was likely because they knew you, that they’d studied you in attempt to understand what would win you over, and now they were using it to their own advantage. Still, ignorance was easier to choke down than truth, and the truth was that charm was part of the game.

You found your hips grinding into him more as his tongue moved with expert precision. He was growing more excited by the second, eager to get the rest of your clothes off and get a taste of the mess he’d created. His hand wandered down, tickling the soft skin of your torso as he searched for something more. Eventually, his fingers knotted through the side of your underwear, the lace tempting him too much to withstand. He let his fingers rest for a moment as he removed his mouth from your nipple, barely giving you time to process the loss before his free hand was guiding your head down to meet him in a kiss. It was a messy show of tangled lips and curious tongues, nothing desirable about the sloppiness, yet more inviting than anything else you could imagine.

Little by little, his parasitic nature began to suck the life from you, beginning with your own morality. The more you had of him, the more the cloud of guilt floated away. No thoughts of Jake, or his hands that you’d been begging for only moments before Sam’s arrival. The only thing that mattered was your growing impatience and how badly you wanted him inside you. When you parted from him, you were both fighting for a full breath, lungs burning with something bigger than just a lack of oxygen; overwhelmed by the pure desire surrounding you. “Stand up for me.” He managed out through a long exhale. You did as he pleased, but ensured that the process was drawn out, teasing him as you did so. Once you were planted on your feet, he took it upon himself to rid you of the red lace that left little to the imagination. Once they dropped to your ankles, he sucked in a long breath in attempt to cover the shock on his face.

He couldn’t hide the look of adoration his eyes were glistening with, overwhelmed at the thought of finally being with you so intimately. He would have told you that you were gorgeous, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, but his words seemed to fail him. Seeing you fully exposed before him seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, unable to comprehend the feelings he had for you in that moment. It was a slow build up, letting him believe he was in control of how hard he was falling for you, allowing him to think that you didn’t have any power over him. The bliss that he felt in that moment told him all he needed to know; he was in love with you, falling harder and faster than he ever had. There was no stoping it, no cushion to break the fall, and the only way to protect himself was to make you love him, too.

He was certain his brother felt the same pull, the same adoration and the same love. It was only then he realized that the world they had been living in was far more dangerous than it had ever been before. This time, the love was real, and catastrophic. Neither could bear the thought of losing, and they were pulling you in both directions as they fell opposite of each other. The cushion of protection that brotherhood provided only extended so far, and the truth of this heartbreak stretched far beyond covered ground. As he reached out for you, slowly turning you around and guiding you backwards to him, he tried to push the thought away. As your legs found home on either side of him, the warmth of your back searing into the skin of his chest, he knew it was here to stay. When his hand drifted between your legs, fingers dancing through the wetness and finding their way to your clit, he didn’t care. Your head fell back on his shoulder, eyes fluttered shut in bliss at the relief he was giving you.

“Oh, god.” You sighed, immediately causing him to close his eyes, too. The sound alone was enough to make him forget any worry in the world. His free hand returned to your breast, gently playing with your nipple as he focused on your clit. He was painfully hard, almost unable to hold himself back from fucking you right then, but he persevered. Getting you off was the only thing he cared about. In that moment, he was living for it. Your head turned inward towards his own, your forehead resting against his cheek, silently begging for more contact with him. He turned his head towards you, enjoying every bit of affection you would permit.

“Is that better, princess?” His voice was low, vibrating through you with an intensity you could barely comprehend. He was barely touching you, barely giving you anything at all, but he was driving you crazy. Every small touch or slight movement was a million times more powerful than they appeared. You worried that you were tangled in his web, too, your limbs tied down with no hope for freedom. Even with the restraint, the unwillingness to accept the inevitable consequence of being intertwined with him indefinitely, some part of you you knew you would be okay, because he would take care of you. He would always take care of you, and you knew that from the minute his hands touched you.

You thought it ought to be impossible, to be so intricately woven within both boys, to be tied down willingly even with the knowledge that there was no way out. After all, how could you be so immersed in two different worlds? The question hammered against your skull as his fingers danced through your cunt, pushing you to the brink of an orgasm without any effort. The words grew louder as the knot in your belly tightened, the stimulation of your nipple pinched between his fingers driving you even closer to the edge. As he turned his head and caught you in another kiss, you thought the pondering would be silenced, that the voice would fade into nothing. While his tongue danced with yours, sadistically paired with the expertise of his hands, the question was indefinitely answered. The web was the same, just much larger and complex than you originally understood. It was completely possible to be trapped by both brothers because their web was identical, and over years of playing their same disastrous games, they had intertwined and become one.

Danny was right in saying that it was impossible to fall for one and not the other, but not because of their similarities. Sure, they had lots in common, but that was not the driving force that made it so easy to love both. They were different in many ways, and you could tell just by how Sam was touching you, how he chose to love you in that moment. Different than Jake, but fantastic all the same. You loved both with the same intensity, but for all different reasons. In the struggle, it was easy to view the feelings as identical because you never had a moment to slow down and think of it any other way. It was possible to fall for both of them so intensely because they made it so; their whole exterior was a guise, perfectly crafted in retaliation to the feeling of insecurity and inferiority. Mistakes from their younger days led them to believe that the pattern was set in stone, rather than something they allowed. Instead of changing, working towards the common goal, they played into the idea that they were never going to escape the curse. You had fallen for both of them so quickly because they moulded into one mindset, mirroring each other in the worst ways.

The boys were different, much more than you had perceived before. You wished that with the realization, picking one over the other would be so much easier. As Sam coaxed you into an orgasm, sending a wave of pleasure through you so intense that you couldn’t catch your breath, you knew it wasn’t true. In the few short days they had spent trying to win you over, you’d fallen for them as individuals. Caught in the same web, but in love with two different versions of it. One side was not greener than the other, nor more promising, which made it all the more painful. As you came down, skin tingling with the ghost of pleasure, you clung to him for comfort. The warmth of his skin was inviting, so inviting that it was easy to ignore the warnings your brain wished you would adhere to. There was no hope for a brighter side, and it didn’t matter who you chose in the end, because they had both planted the seed of promise within your brain. Promise of love, happiness, comfort, and the thought of losing either was excruciating. Different as they may be, the euphoric feeling of being loved by them was all the same.

Suffering was a promise coated with momentary gain. Nobody was in control, and you were all finally beginning to understand.

Once you had regained your senses, Sam prompted you to sit up for a moment. You hovered above him, allowing him the chance to free himself from his boxers. He barely had the fabric out of the way before he was guiding you back down to him, lining his cock with your entrance as he did so. There was a slight moment of hesitancy from both of you, but it was quickly forgotten when he pulled you down on him fully, your ass meeting his hips as he bottomed out inside of you. A shared groan of relief sounded from both of you, as if it was something you’d been waiting for your whole lives. He pulled your upper half back to his chest, reaching around to find your clit again. Once you’d recovered from the overwhelming feeling of him inside you, you began to rock your hips. He didn’t move his fingers, letting you set the friction with the pace of your hips. It was a small injustice, one that drove you insane. His generosity weakened and he was silently telling you that if you wanted more, you had to work for it.

You sped your movements, finding your will to argue with Sam completely non-existent. Arguing with Jake was fun, because you knew you went into the conversation with no chance of coming out on top. With Sam, it was a ruthless battle. You could both scream until you were blue in the face and neither of you would give in. You could spend all night running in circles, or get yourself off on your own accord, and you chose the latter. Your only hope was that he felt the same about you, and when it was your turn for a command, he would oblige with the same enthusiasm. As you sunk back down on him, he was unable to hold back the sound of pleasure that slipped through his lips. It only served as motivation, telling you that he was just as crazy for it as you were.

He had one hand firmly on your waist, fingers decorating the soft flesh with enough pressure for you to notice, but not near enough to hurt you. His touch radiated caution and care, so unlike the hands you had on you the night before. “This is what you came over for, isn’t it?” You hummed, your head tilted back and his cheek pressed against yours. He refused to answer, but didn’t change his position. “Tell me, Sam.” You ordered, but the tone was gentle, coaxing it from him at his own pace rather than forcing it.

“Fuck, yes,” he finally said, hissing his answer through clenched teeth. Your eyes closed at the sound, pleased at his answer but not completely satisfied with him yet.

“Is it as good as you thought it would be?” You taunted, not changing your pace but coming down on him with more force each time. “Exactly what you dreamed of?”

“Yeah, baby.” He nodded against you, sucking in a sharp breath as you rolled your hips on him. “You feel so good, even better than I imagined.” His voice was strained, like he was trying to fight back a moan as he spoke. A smirk played at the corner of your lips, content to have him in such a mess below you.

“God, you do too.” You sighed, realizing that if he was willing to be so kind, you would, too. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Sammy.” The statement caused his fingers to tighten on you and his pressure on your clit to increase. A moan fell from you, content with his effort. He was just happy you were enjoying yourself. In a twisted turn of events, you understood that in that specific scenario, he was existing solely to please you. So many months wasted pinning after him, and he had been so eager to make you feel good the whole time. As if it were a silent apology from both of you, he was doing so now, and praising him only seemed right.

“Now you have me, princess.” He whispered, leaning down and placing a few kisses on your shoulder. The small act of love was heartwarming, but you didn’t let it deter you from the filthy things you wanted him to do to you. “I’m all yours.” You swallowed hard at the statement, not quite ready to bear the weight of it yet.

“Just like that, baby.” You gasped, shifting slightly in hopes that he would continue hitting the same spot inside you. The circles he was rubbing into your clit were steady, ruthless in their efforts to get you to another climax. You sped the pace, the tip of his cock hitting the most sensitive spot inside you from the new angle. “M’gonna cum,” you warned, praying he would keep his rhythm.

“Yeah?” He asked, his tone hopeful and anything but condescending. You let out a murmur of agreement, your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. Your forehead was glistening with sweat, the position clearly taking a bit more energy than you anticipated. The strands of his hair that were in disarray were tickling the skin of your shoulders, a simple beauty in the mess of vulgarity. He was beautiful, and so was the way he was making you feel. It seemed as though he worshiped the ground you walked on, ecstatic that he even had the opportunity to please you. Like your words had changed his demeanour, morphed him into something you never expected from him. He was so witty and even snarky by times, and you fully expected that persona to carry over from every day life to the bedroom. Instead, he was almost a different person, desperate to make you feel good and even willing to be chastised in the process. Had you attempted to tease Jake, you would be met with nothing rewarding. The difference was astounding.

“Oh, fuck Sam!” You whined, the muscles in your abdomen tensing as a wave of pleasure washed over you. The pressure had reached its peak, leaving your legs shaking and hands gripping at him for support.

“There you go, princess.” He breathed, in awe at the elegance of you, even in such a dirty way. “Did that feel good?” Once again, the vibration of his voice resonated throughout your body, settling under your skin and igniting every nerve.

“Felt so good, baby.” You assured him. Without another word, he lifted you off him, keeping a hand on you to support you. With a swift motion, he cleared the clutter of the table with a swipe of his hand. Most items were pushed backwards, some toppling over and some papers floating to the ground with grace. You watched as the items settled in their new positions, a spark of intrigue filling you. He turned to you, picking you up with ease and settling you on the now empty spot on the kitchen table. “Hi,” you let out a small giggle, processing the change of position. As he nestled between your legs, you couldn’t help but feel a fleeting moment of innocent joy. The soft features of his face, beautifully crafted and meant to be admired. The hair cascading down his shoulders, framing every detail in the most elegant way. The dim overhead light and the sun from the window painting him with a bit of a golden glow. It was all too much to overlook, too profound to go unnoticed. He was perfect, unbearably compelling, and the tug on your heartstrings from the sight was irrefutable. You couldn’t help but take the moment, even if it broke the momentum of sex.

“Hi, gorgeous.” He smiled, eyes drifting over your face and admiring you in the same way. After a moment of silent appreciation, he pulled you into a kiss. It was sweet, but it didn’t last for long and the blame was shared between both of you. The need for more was obvious, and the tender action quickly turned messy, desperate, even. You felt him line himself up with you again, but you broke away and stopped him before he could advance. He looked at you with worry, wondering if he overstepped. You shook your head, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently guiding him towards the floor.

After a moment, he caught on to your demand. He sunk to his knees, almost embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of it himself. He was so worked up that he hadn’t even taken the time to fully grasp what was in front of him. He placed a few kisses to your thighs, gentle and loving, building up to what you so badly wanted. He hooked his arm under your leg and gently guided you to the edge of the table. He didn’t waste too much time, not wanting you to lose interest in the action. He ran his tongue through you, savouring the taste of your arousal. He let out a hum of pleasure, letting you know he was more than grateful to have you like that. Your hand found his hair, tangling in the locks of brown. You watched him, eyes glazed with lust, realizing how many times you wished you could have him exactly as he was. You didn’t have the chance to dwell for too long, his tongue quickly finding your already quite sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your head fell back, too focused on the feeling to watch him any longer. His initial exploration was long forgotten about, eager to get you to another climax. Part of it was selfish, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you again, but most of it was desperation to make you feel such a way again. The knowledge that he could make you feel so good was worth more than the world to him. He was sure there was no greater motivator in the universe. His tongue was focused on your clit, relentless in its pursuit of an orgasm. His fingers were grasping your thigh, holding you to him like he was scared you would get away. Little did he know, that was the last thing you ever wanted to do. You wished you could stay like this with him forever.

After a moment, he added his fingers to you, pumping them in with a slight curl every time. The added stimulation made it impossible for you to hold back any moans. Your grip on his hair was tight, and if you weren’t so lost in the pleasure, you would be in fear of hurting him. It didn’t bother him, though. If anything, it drove him further, making him enjoy the experience even more. He was crazy for you, and he knew that in that moment, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to have you like this again. His previous concern about Jake and his feelings were obsolete. The need to be with you was greater than his worry of hurting his brother. Even if someone was bound to get harmed, he was just happy to have you for the time being. Even if you didn’t choose him. After all, having you for a brief moment was better than never having you at all.

“S-Sammy,” you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut at the pure ecstasy of his mouth. He hummed against you, acknowledging your exclamation without breaking away from you. “Fuck that feels so good.” You groaned, the words ripping from your chest in a violent manner. He used the praise as motivation, ensuring his movements were consistent to give you the most pleasure he could. Although his pace was slow, it did not mean it wasn’t impactful. He flattened his thumb against your cunt, pulling his mouth back only slightly so he could slip the digit just below his lip. The pause in movement took you for surprise, making you wonder what he was doing. After a few seconds, he continued on and answered your question immediately. A sharp gasp sounded, the slight change introducing you to a whole different type of pleasure.

With every upstroke of his tongue, he brought his thumb up under it, keeping it in time with his tongue. The new feeling made it so your clit was constantly stimulated, never giving him a chance to miss a beat. He continued pumping his fingers in you, the curl hitting your g-spot with ease. There was no doubt the brothers talent on their instruments had contribution to their skillful hands, but you had no idea to what extent it would be. Now, you were certain that every lifetime lived would only be worth it if it was spent with a guitarist. “Please don’t stop,” you pleaded, drawing in a long breath. The burning in the pit of your stomach was intense, easily telling you that he didn’t have to work for much longer. One last pump of his fingers was all you needed. When you came, it was more intense than the ones he had previously given you. You were clenched around his fingers, your legs shaking and your fingers knotted tightly in his hair. You struggled to catch your breath, your chest burning for air and your head swimming with nothing meaningful.

When he noticed your body relax, he slowly tapered his pace. When he fully removed himself from you, you felt disappointment at the lack of attention. He smiled up at you, noticing the look of displeasure on your features. Slowly, he rose back to his feet and made home between your legs again. “You taste so good, princess. Could do that all day.” He said, his words sincere and no hint of a lie in his expression.

“It was so good, Sammy. You make me feel so good.” You sighed, pulling his upper body into you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into an embrace. You weren’t sure if it was because you were craving the comfort after such an earth-shattering orgasm, or if you were craving him. Either way, the comfort that came from the feeling of his arms around you was unexplainable. He placed a kiss to the top of your head, flooding your body with a type of warmth you can only feel from another person. He held you there, feeling the same way that you were. He never wanted to leave, never wanted to let you go, and it was dangerous. Much like his brother, he had to face the reality that you weren’t his. At least, not yet.

“Can I fuck you, please?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper. It was an attempt to ward off the ache that settled within him, knowing he would walk out of the house with no promise of more.

“You want to fuck me?” You asked, pulling back to look up at his face. He met your eyes, giving you a nod. You watched his face, wondering if you wanted to allow him the opportunity so soon. There was a slight glimmer of hope in his eye, one that you couldn’t look past. “Since you did such a good job,” you teased, a small smile on your lips. “You can fuck me, baby.” You said, the permissive statement sparking him into action immediately. His hands shot to your hips, pulling you just a little closer to the edge. You leaned back slightly, allowing him easier access. His hand trailed to your thigh, landing on your knee and pulling your leg up and around him. You locked it there, drawing him in closer as he lined himself up with your entrance.

He pushed into you, both of you letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling. He thrusted his hips slow at first, giving you time to adjust to him again. You appreciated his patience, you were sensitive from the events that had already ensued, and him caring about your comfort more than his satisfaction meant a lot. After a moment, you were well acclimated and wanted more. You guided his body closer to you, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. He responded enthusiastically, happy for the new invitation. Your tongue danced over his bottom lip, driving him crazy and inevitably causing him to quicken his pace. The angle in which the position allowed was deliciously precise, the tip of his cock reaching your cervix as he thrusted. The small jolt of pain was immensely noticeable, but just as pleasant as every other sensation.

You were certain that anything would be delightful as long as Sam was the one doing it.

You let a moan slip into his mouth, unintentional but perfectly good for him. His fingers seared into your skin, tightening at the sound. You were having a hard time keeping your lips to his with the way he was pounding into you. Your leg that was locked around him attempted to pull him closer, even if it was impossible. You wanted to be immersed in him, for his being to suffocate you. You never wanted to leave the moment, never wanted him to stop touching you. Every nerve was ablaze with months of tension finally coming to an end. Your skin was on fire, not with heat, but with the pure electricity his body was giving off. It felt perfect, like this was exactly where you should be. The decision to be with Sam should have been easy, especially when you were feeling like such. Still, there was a little voice in your head telling you that something wasn’t right, and you couldn’t rely on the feeling because you felt the same way with Jake.

You felt despicable even thinking of his brother while engaging in such an act, but the thought was fleeting, never lasting for too long but always appearing when you least expected it. Much like poison slowly creeping into your veins and overthrowing your own body. It was killing you, but was so good, so similar to a drug. Both of the boy’s love was branded with toxicity and was dangerously volatile, but always left you wanting more. Left you believing that you couldn’t live without it. “I need you to cum again, princess.” He pleaded. The words cut through your thoughts like a blade, shattering any abstraction of anything other than him. He was close, begging you for one more climax before he reached his own.

He had done a fantastic job pleasing you, ridding you of any indignation you held for him in the previous hours. With the offer of his body alone, he’d managed to erase any ill feelings in an instant, and in such a selfless manner. You thought you could give in, allow him what he wanted at his request. If you wanted to, you could make him go all night, and you were sure he would oblige. You certainly wouldn’t mind, but you had a streak of sympathy for him in that moment, feeling generous enough to give him a break. His hard work was appreciated, and you had gotten far more than you originally hoped for. “Are you close, baby?” You asked, using your free hand to cup his cheek in your hand. He gave a nod, leaning forward to rest his forehead on yours. “You want to cum with me?” You pried, wanting a verbal answer from him.

“Fuck, yes.” He groaned. Seeing him in such a state was enough to drive you over the edge. His desperation was thrilling; you couldn’t help but feel your ego inflating at the thought. You’d spent so long desperate to have him, and now that the roles were reversed, you couldn’t help but revel in it for a while. “Please, y/n, want it so bad.” The begging was new to you, never having experienced it from someone else. You’d been on the other end of it before, but receiving it was a whole new level of gratification. You didn’t want to make him grovel for too long, but we’re certain to remember the feeling for next time, just to ensure you could experience it again. You didn’t have to make him wait, anyway, because your next orgasm was approaching fast.

“Oh, god.” You growled, the sound primal and your grasp on him feral.

“That’s it, princess.” He encouraged, his grip tightening again. Every feeling was euphoric, otherworldly, almost. You had yet to comprehend the truth of the situation, that you were actually with Sam, and not just in another daydream or fantasy. He was in front of you, inside you, with his hands all over your body and his name embedded into your tongue.

“Fuck!” You choked out, abdomen rigid as your muscles contracted. You uttered his name, a gentle allowance for him to cum, too. He pulled you into another kiss, silencing any further admissions. You couldn’t help but let a whimper out, muffled by his lips on yours. That was all it took for him to reach his peak, both of your orgasms crashing over you at once. His movement halted, his hands pulling you into him as he spilled his release into you.

You were a mess of tangled limbs, glistening with sweat and surrounded by muttered noises of pleasure. Long after the climax, even after your bodies were relaxed and recovered from the excitement, you were both still wrapped around each other with no sign of release. He rested inside you, fingers ghosting over the spot he’d been previously holding. Your palm was cupping his cheek, keeping him close with no intention of letting him go. His forehead was on yours, both of your eyes closed in bliss, basking in the comfort of each other for as long as you could. His lips were hovering over yours, tempted by the thought of kissing you again. You ended his internal debate, capturing him in a sweet kiss, wanting it just as bad.

Time passed, filled with kisses and whispers of adoration and appreciation for each other. It was tender, loving and inviting. It was a moment you wanted to live in forever without fear of ever losing it. His touch was gentle, like he was scared you were made of glass and he’d break you with one wrong move. He thought you were perfect enough to be framed, to be an exhibit in the most prestigious art museum, but even that wouldn’t do you any justice. He wanted to speak, to tell you everything he’d held back for so long, to show you that he felt the same for you and he was foolish for waiting so long. His silence was thick, heavy in the air. He’d fallen victim to his cowardice, the same way you and Jake had. So many feelings ready to burst at the seam, but never enough courage to speak them aloud. All three of you held the belief that if it was left unspoken, it would hurt less when the inevitable downfall occurred.

“Let’s get cleaned up?” He offered, but his chest ached at the thought of breaking from you. You gave a small nod, head heavy with exhaustion and intoxication. Instead of pulling away, he wrapped his arms around you with caution, carefully picking you up off the table. He carried you to the bathroom before he finally let you stand on your own.

You both cleaned up, ridding yourselves of the dirty act you had committed. An invitation of a shower bounced around your soul, but the fear of rejection was far too large to speak it into existence. Instead, when you were both ready, you led him to your bedroom. You searched for a moment, locating a t-shirt that hung down to your thighs. You slipped it over your head as Sam disappeared, likely in search of his own clothes. He returned a moment later clad in just his boxers, carrying the other articles of clothing in his hand. He discarded them on the floor again, not caring where they ended up. You were both caught in wordless comfort, not wanting to disturb the peace in fear of saying something wrong. You took a seat on the edge of the bed, holding a hand out for him to join. A small smile crossed his lips, happy at the idea that you wanted him to stay.

He disregarded your gesture, climbing in behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso. He gently pulled you back as he laid down, settling you in his arms, pressing you firmly against his chest. You let out a giggle of delight, content at the position. Even though your back was to him and you couldn’t see his face, you knew he had a grin plastered on his cheeks. He grabbed a fistful of blanket, carelessly pulling the comforter over you both. The warmth surrounded you with more welcome than you anticipated, the familiar feeling immediately prompting a wave of tiredness. The sound of slow breathing filled the room, heartbeats in sync and all worry subsided. Within moments, you’d both drifted into a slumber that not even an earthquake could disturb.

A little while later, you woke with a start. Shuffling behind you and the stab of cool air penetrated the aura of comfort you had created. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, groggy and disheveled from the deep slumber you had just been in. You looked up, noticing that Sam was cautiously climbing from the bed, trying not to disturb you. He didn’t notice your open eyes until he had pulled his shirt over his head and turned to check on you. “You’re leaving?” You asked, voice gravelly and laced with confusion.

“Oh, yeah. I have to get home.” He said, a note of sympathy ringing from him. It seemed like he wanted to disappear before any conversation could begin.

“Oh,” you said, trying not to let your disappointment show. Now that your eyes were fully open, your head was pounding from the hangover beginning. You cursed the wine for being so easy to drink, knowing you were in for a night of discomfort. “That’s okay. Thanks for coming over, it was nice.” You managed out, eyebrows furrowed from the pulse of pain beating against your skull. You tried to make the words sound as genuine as possible, not wanting any awkwardness to ruin the evening you shared. He pulled on his pants, then leaned down over you and placed a kiss to your lips.

“It was my pleasure.” He assured you, giving you a small smile. “I’ll see you soon?” You nodded, unable to fight back a smile in return.

“Yeah, text me later or whatever.” You tried to pass the comment off with nonchalance, but you were really hoping he would.

“Of course.” He said, kissing you once more. The temptation was just too strong to resist. With that, he straightened up, bidding a small goodbye and disappeared through your bedroom door. You pulled the blanket to your chest, feeling a fizzle of sadness spark in your heart. Perhaps the night you spent with Jake had conditioned you to believe that your entanglements were more than they actually were. In truth, they were nothing greater than messy hookups, even if you all had feelings buried deep below the surface.

You heard the front door shut followed by silence filling the home, screaming emptiness and seclusion again. You stayed stagnant for a moment, wondering if sleep was the best option to rid the looming sense of loneliness that made fast work at creeping back in. Instead of focusing on it, you crawled out of bed and faced the cool air. Your head ached as you stood, but you figured water and advil was the only sure way you would get any decent sleep. Plus, the thought of waking twice to the same violent hangover was too miserable to chance. So you trudged down the hallway, still slightly disoriented from the nap you couldn’t seem to pull yourself completely out of. When you saw the state of the kitchen, you felt the overwhelming urge to turn around and go back to bed.

There were papers strewn across the room, the table a mess of items that Sam had thrown into disarray. Your lingerie decorated the hardwood floor and the chair you and Sam had favoured was still a showpiece in the middle of the room. Your wine bottle that was barely broken into was begging you to take another sip, but you threw it in the fridge to fight the temptation. You grabbed a bottle of water, wasting no time chugging it down. The hydration felt nice, but it was no competition for the amount of alcohol you had consumed earlier that day. You searched the cabinet above your fridge for some painkillers, taking two and leaving the bottle out for the night.

You slowly picked up the mess of paper on your floor, neatly arranging it back on the table. You pushed the chair back in its place and collected the red lace that was taunting you with your bad decisions. Your focus fell back on the table, straightening some things up and making it look more presentable. As you finished the task, your eye caught sight of something laying underneath the stack of papers. You froze, eyes wide and heart thudding against your ribs. You reached out, slowly retrieving your phone from the mess. A sense of dread washed over you, scared to turn the screen on, realizing that you would likely be met by a plethora of missed messages from Jake. When Sam arrived, the whirlwind of events allowed for your previous arrangements with Jake to completely slip your mind. Or, perhaps you shoved them to the side intentionally. Either way, you were certain that the hours without a response hadn’t gone unnoticed, and you were certain he was not happy about it.

Part of you had a small thrill at the idea of him being pissed off, hoping the confrontation would turn into something quite enjoyable for you. There was a bigger, more imminent fear that he was genuinely just going to be angry at you, especially if he knew the reason as to why you were ignoring him. You were crushed at the idea of him being upset, even if his own game was the reason behind the hurt. As much as you hated to admit it, the feelings you had for him were very real and ran much deeper than lust. You tapped the screen, turning it on in an instant. When you registered the entirety of the missed notifications, your heart dropped. Two missed calls, and three texts.

You clicked the notification bars, nervous for the impact. The first two were light, mostly teasing you for the way he had ended the call. Then, when those went unanswered, he called. No voicemail, but you were sure he was tempted to leave one. Fifteen minutes later, he tried again. The second missed call really struck a nerve in him, because the third text came much later and was far heavier than the previous two. No loving undertone or lighthearted demeanour, just blunt and upfront.

Jacob

Have it your way, angel. Two can play that game.

Your stomach churned with unease, unsure exactly what he meant by the statement. Your ignoring him was not intentional, but after your behaviour earlier, there was no way in hell that he would believe you, now. Even if he did, how could you explain yourself without making yourself sound even more like a villain. You collapsed in the kitchen chair, head hung low and shame washing over you once again. You thought you ought to take the loss, move on and realize you messed up. Apologize, even, and rectify the mistake so hopefully he would accept it. But, the little devil was louder still, begging you to answer, pretend nothing happened at all just to feel his touch again, or even just to get him to call so you could hear his voice. Instead of doing either, you set your phone down, realizing it was best left alone until the morning.

You trudged back to bed, trying to rid yourself of the ache that settled in your bones. Most of it was due to the regret you felt about doing such a thing to Jake, but the other part because you felt like nothing more than a forgetful hookup to Sam. He’d been so loving during sex that it was almost earth-shattering when he seemed to be in so much of a rush to leave. With Jake, he stayed all night, tangled in your blankets and your heart, playing house for as long as he could. The sex with him was far from sweet, but the aftermath was astoundingly different. Your head was swimming, unsure of how to feel or how to know which was better. You closed your eyes, once again stuck in the rut of falling in love with the Kiszka’s. You begged for sleep, wondering if the despondent feeling would ever subside.

Rulers make bad lovers

TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld @gretavansara @jaketlove @laneygvf @freefallthoughts