#Hotel Silver Lake

[trendynewsnow]

A Day in the Life of Freddy Bauer: Navigating Homelessness in Los Angeles

A Day in the Life of Freddy Bauer The day was shaping up to be another long one for Freddy Bauer. He ambled down the sun-bleached, stuccoed outdoor hallways of the Hotel Silver Lake, carefully sidestepping the occasional mound of trash that dotted the path. It was late August, and the heat hung in the air like a heavy blanket. Mr. Bauer, a dedicated case manager, was on a mission to assist…

[academyoftheheartandmind]

Water Lilies and Other Photographs

By Michael Shoemaker Michael Shoemaker is a poet, writer, and photographer. His photography has appeared in Front Porch Review, Writers on the Range, Yahoo.com. and elsewhere. He lives in Utah near the Great Salt Lake with his wife and son. Michael enjoys pickleball and gardening.

[heroes-fading]

ok @goosefisherman was like “the bluestoplights google maps and i-80 agenda” and the thing is lucy is right i’m literally sitting here with a map of boulder asking google maps what the quickest route on foot is to salt lake. (turns out it’s like 6 days but that’s if you go nonstop and aren’t human so let’s make that, like, two weeks)

where was this energy when you had to look at a map for five seconds to see kansas city is NOT en route to wyoming @craig maizin do you hate nebraska this much? fr? no screen time for us? none? 

[kinascum]

TAG! - M. STURNIOLO

SYNOPSIS: What happens when your brother's best friend pushes your boundaries in a thrilling encounter?

CONTENTS: nls!reader, explicit sexual content, strong language, power dynamics, degradation, chasing? primal? idk, no actual piv, oral (male), semi-public, humiliation.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

pt2 (chris)

You sit around the kitchen table of the cozy cabin, the glow of the moonlight spilling in through the windows, casting shadows across the well-worn Monopoly board. The laughter and banter of the evening's game slowly die down as the last few hotel properties are snatched up, and the bank is declared bankrupt. Your brother Nate, and his best friends, grin at each other, the competitive spirit still lingering in the air. It's late, and the yawns start to take over, signaling the end of the night.

The cabin's wooden floorboards creak as everyone heads to their designated sleeping areas. The fireplace crackles, casting a warm, flickering light across the room. You settle into your bed, but the excitement of the day keeps sleep at bay. The rustling of blankets and muffled snores from your brother's room reminds you that you're not the only one who remains restless.

The whispers of the night beckon you and you find yourself tiptoeing to the bedroom door. You peek into the hallway, noticing a sliver of light seeping out from under Matt's door. Curiosity piqued, you ease the door open to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, staring at the floor. "Can't sleep either?" he asks, looking up and catching your gaze.

"Yeah, it's like my brain won't shut up," you admit, stepping into the room. "Wanna go outside for some fresh air?"

Matt nods, a glint in his eye. "How about we play a game to pass the time?"

Intrigued, you follow him out into the cool night, the crunch of gravel underfoot. The moon casts a silver path down to the lake, where the water laps gently against the shore. The air is alive with the scent of pine and the distant sound of an owl's hoot.

"Okay, I'll chase you," he says with a smirk, "and if I catch you, I win."

You laugh, thinking it's just a way to burn off some energy. "What do I get if I win?"

"We'll see," he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ready or not, here I come!"

And with that, he's off, his sneakers pounding the ground as he sprints towards you. You squeal, the thrill of the chase igniting your senses. As you dart away from him, the night air feels alive with electricity, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the kind of thrill you live for, the kind that makes you feel alive.

The game starts innocently enough, the two of you weg through the trees, laughing and panting. But as the minutes tick by, the adrenaline turns into something else. Something you've felt simmering between you for a while now, something you've been too scared to acknowledge. The wind carries the scent of him, a tantalizing mix of aftershave and pure masculine energy. Your skin tingles with anticipation, and you start to feel the heat building deep within you.

Matt's breath is hot on your neck as he catches up, his strong hands grabbing you around the waist. You gasp, feeling his solid body pressed against yours, the game turning into something much more primal. You can feel the heat of his body overcome yours, and it sends a shockwave through your core. This isn't just a game anymore; it's a dance of desire that you're both eager to explore.

He whispers in your ear, his voice thick with lust, "I win."

With a firm grip, he spins you around and pushes you to your knees. You look up at him, a mix of fear and excitement swirling in your eyes. He's serious. The gravity of the moment hits you like a ton of bricks, but you don't resist. You want this. You've wanted this for a long time.

He unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking in the stillness of the night, and unzips his pants, pulling out his hard cock. "You know how this goes," he murmurs, stroking himself, watching you with a hungry gaze. "You're gonna let me use that pretty little throat?"

Your heart races as you lean in, your mouth watering despite the fear. You wrap your lips around him, and he groans, his hand tangling in your hair. He's not gentle, pushing deeper into your mouth, his grip tightening with every moan. The taste of him fills your senses, a mix of salt and earth, and you can't help but feel a twinge of excitement. This isn't how you thought this night would go, but the way he's looking at you, the way he's holding you, it's like he's claiming you, and it turns you on more than you ever thought possible.

You try to keep up, but he's too much for you. You gag, and he laughs, a dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Look at you," he says, "such a good little slut, take it." Spit trails down your chin, and your eyes water, but you don't stop. You can't. The thrill of it all is too intense.

"I bet Nate never knew what a whore you are," he murmurs, his voice low aging. "Letting me fuck your mouth out here like some cheap hooker." His words are like a slap in the face, but they only serve to make you wetter. Your eyes narrow as your brows chisel in, but you're his, and you're letting him do this to you. It's a power play, and you're both acutely aware of it.

"Oh, you're mad?" He laughs. The sound of branches underfoot in the distance makes your heart leap. "Better hurry up," he says, his eyes glinting with excitement, "or Chris might find you like this and want a taste" The thought sends a jolt of fear and arousal through you. "Oh, but you'd love that, being used by both your brother's best friends?" Your mind races. What would Nate think if he found you like this? What would Nick do? The possibility of getting caught only adds to the thrill.

Matt's hand moves to your chin, holding it in a firm grip as he fucks your mouth harder, faster. "Take it, baby," he growls, his hips bucking against your face. "You like it, huh?" You nod, unable to speak with his cock lodged in your throat, you mumble around his shaft. You do love it. The degradation, the power he has over you in this moment, it's intoxicating.

Finally, with a grunt, he pulls out, coming all over your face and chest. You collapse back onto the ground, gasping for air, your heart racing and your eyes like storms behind shed tears. He wipes his dick off your shirt, smiling down at you like he's just conquered the world. "You've always been mine, don’t get mad now," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. He leans down, his hand on your jaw suddenly pulls away and the sing on your face is accompanied by the hot spit thrown at you. "Mine to use whenever I want."

The night air is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, and you can't help but feel a little bit used. But you don't care. You're his, and that's all that matters. The tension between you is palpable, the line between friendship and something darker is now irrevocably blurred. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, tasting him on your lips, and wonder if this is the start of something new.

As you both catch your breath, the sound of footsteps grows louder. Panic flares in your chest. "we have to get back." You stumble to your feet, your legs wobbly from the intense experience. Matt chuckles, tucking himself back into his pants.

Together, you sneak back towards the cabin, your heart pounding in your ears. As you enter the cabin, you see the light from Nate's room is now off. Did he hear you? Did he know what was happening outside?

You slip into your bed, your body still humming with desire, your mind racing with thoughts of what's to come. The lines between friendship and lust have been crossed, and there's no going back.

tags! @sturnstvs @gxldenlush @immattsslut @slut4chriss @stasiesturn @jetaimevous @solarsturniolo @watercolorskyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @meowira @secretagentspy @shadowthesim @baileysturns

love, paz<3

[melodyplucked]

♫ — verse tag drop — ♫

♫ — ( v0 ) everyone comes here but nobody leaves | unspecified

♫ — ( v1 ) i jumped across for you oh what a thing to do | main

♫ — ( v2 ) your eyes looked like coming home | mamma mia

♫ — ( v3 ) singing sad songs in a hotel room | alone in la

♫ — ( v4 ) set fire to the rain | pro skater

♫ — ( v5 ) hope i never lose you hope it never ends | nyc

♫ — ( v6 ) let me live that fantasy | royal

♫ — ( v7 ) lace up my high tops | stevens point

♫ — ( v8 ) wish i had a river so long i could teach my feet to fly | figure skater

♫ — ( v9 ) whole school is rolling fake dice you play stupid games you win stupid prizes | stranger things

♫ — ( v10 ) american glory faded before me | homecoming royalty

♫ — ( v11 ) all that we are but not all that we'll ever be | right wrong number

♫ — ( v12 ) on a silver screen living life like i'm in a dream | hollywood

♫ — ( v13 ) feelings we had before when we were so innocent | wedding date

♫ — ( v14 ) with my first and final rose | the bachelor

--

♫ — ( gv1 ) unitas est invicta | nevermore academy

--

♫ — ( cv1 ) start of something new | hsm

♫ — ( cv2 ) tale as old as time | beauty and the beast

♫ — ( cv3 ) who knew cuddling on trampolines could be so reckless | camp shallow lake

♫ — ( cv4 ) something in the summer wind | senior summer

[sapphire-writes]

Chapter 1: Welcome Home

main masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter

summary ~ Hired by the elusive Aemond Targaryen, you arrive at Harrenhal House to care for his niece and nephew. Things go bump in the night.

warnings below the cut for your convenience

warnings ~ spooky ghostly stuff, angst, mentions of death, loss of a child, blood, wound care

note: and so begins our spooky adventure! I hope you enjoy it!

banner made by the ever lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange!

Harrenhal stands on the edge of our world atop lush, green hills. The God’s Eye Lake is the biggest in the country, more like the sea than any landbound body of water you’d ever seen before. 

As the Uber driver creeps along the bend of the God’s Eye, the old manor begins to come into view. A thick layer of fog seems to cling to the bricks; gray tendrils creeping onto the driveway and spilling onto the lawn. 

“Are you a long way from home?” your driver asks, meeting your eyes in the rearview as he attempts to strike up polite conversation. You assume it’s because of the rather rough start you got off with him. 

“Harrenhal House?” he had asked, face red, eyes wide, “That place is cursed.”

Not exactly the warm welcome you had wished for when you arrived in the Riverlands. Not exactly the impression Aemond Targaryen had given in his email when he offered you the job. The interview had been completed over the phone. His voice was cold, words clipped as though he wanted to find someone qualified and quickly to care for his niece and nephew.

The car pulls up to Harrenhal, tires crunching against the gravel of the driveway. The iron gates were open as you’d driven up, expecting your arrival. Hedges and statues covered with moss decorate the path toward the main house. The car slowly creeps closer. Your driver clutches the wheel as though the house means to swallow him whole. 

Harrenahal stands out like a stain against the clear blue sky. It is an enormous manor, with shutters, and brick the color of pitch. The terrifying eyesore of the Riverlands. Crows have made their nests in several of the gables, their beady black eyes watching intently as the car comes to a halt. 

A murder. 

Of course, you’d done your research before accepting the position. Both on the home and on your host. 

Harrenhal had a grizzly history. Your driver wasn’t wrong when he called it a cursed place. But the dead didn’t scare you. You had ghosts of your own.

Aemond Targaryen was a different story. Second son of Viserys Targaryen, whose recent passing was still hot news in the corporate world. Not that you paid close attention, but you’d heard there still had been no decision on the naming of the new CEO of Fire & Blood Co.

The death of the patriarch seemed to trigger a chain reaction of devastating events. If Harrenhal was cursed, so was the Targaryen family tree. Wherever the silver-haired blue bloods go, tragedy seems to follow. 

The death of little Jaehaerys is the most tragic of all. 

You’d yet to see a child-sized coffin and desperately hoped you never would.

They’d whisked Helaena Targaryen away from the boisterous streets of King’s Landing rather quickly after the funeral of her first son. After her accident.

You didn’t know what had happened, it was omitted from the press. Even the tabloids had only guesses. You doubt there are many limitations to actions caused by a mother’s grief. 

Jaehaerys left two siblings behind; a twin sister and an infant brother still too young to toddle. Aemond Targaryen was hardly ready to be a father. You’d researched him as well and read about his ascent up the corporate ladder. 

The boost of nepotism couldn’t have hurt, but from what you could tell, as you hunched over your laptop in the darkness of your hotel room, Aemond Targaryen had worked hard for his success. A tragic accident when he was a child left him blind in his left eye, leaving it cloudy and sightless, though nothing more was disclosed online about the incident.

There were other Targaryen siblings; an elder sister from a first marriage, a party boy, and another brother backpacking through the eastern continent. You flipped through countless articles and stalked the Instagram pages of the elusive family. 

However, Aemond Targaryen did not have social media. 

What he did have, was a marriage announcement, followed soon after by an obituary. 

A handsome young widower. Not even thirty. 

The deceased wife was much older. You’d browsed through Google images while slurping cold pad Thai, though there were hardly any pictures of them as a couple. Aemond seemed to avoid the press at every chance.

There weren’t many photos of him; just candid shots here and there—a dark suit, a flash of silver hair. You had shut your laptop after that, feeling suddenly self-conscious, as though Aemond would know you’d read about him the first time he laid eyes on you. 

Your Uber driver helps deposit your bags onto the gravel, shutting the trunk with a grunt. He turns to you, eying the manor nervously, as though it's a living thing waiting to open its jaws and devour you.  

“You be careful, love,” he tells you, nodding towards the house. 

“I’m tougher than I look,” you assure, awarding him a wry smile. 

The smile he offers in return is more of a grimace, and he is quick to return to the safety of his vehicle. You grab your carry-on and the handle of your suitcase, gazing up at the manor. A crow caws, alerting the others to your arrival.

A group of crows is called a murder.

You walk up to the doors, knocking once, twice. There is no answer. Turning the handle, you stepped into the grand foyer. A large staircase is the first thing you see, though you’re distracted by the man walking down the steps at a leisurely pace. 

Aemond Targaryen is more intimidating than the candid photos you’d hungrily browsed. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. His long, silver hair is braided into a bun resting at the nape of his neck, a few tendrils ghosting around his face. Pouty lips, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a beautiful straight, pointed nose. 

You’d always had a thing for noses. 

Seven hells. Stop that. This guy is your boss, your employer. 

His eyes. One blue, the other milky and lifeless. The gash of a faded scar running up the side of his face only served to make me more handsome. 

He greets you with the title of Miss, the gentle timbre of his voice floating down to you. It’s so formal, as though you’ve walked through a portal into a Jane Austin novel. He doesn’t smile, just watches you, sizing you up.

Fucking hell, he’s even more handsome in person. 

The man could be a model if business doesn’t work out for him.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you watch him descend the steps. With his hands in his pockets, and white button-down sleeves rolled to his elbows, he oozes an air of cold confidence as his eyes trace over you. He doesn’t offer a hand to shake, despite his formality. Even when he removes his hands from his pockets, letting one drag slowly down the railing. 

“You didn’t arrive with any other baggage?” Aemond quips, the fingers of his left hand uncurling from a clenched fist. 

You blink, before glancing at your suitcase, at the carry-on bag beside it, “No…?”

Aemond hums to himself, lips pressed firmly together. His face gives nothing away, an emotionless mask of disinterest. 

“No estranged boyfriend who’ll be coming looking for you?” he asks pointedly. 

Your cheeks warm at his statement. You should have guessed he’d be direct. He didn’t ask you in the interview about a partner; just made sure you were able to commit to the position for at least six months.  

“No,” you tell him, “No boyfriend.”

His eyes, both the blue and the milky sightless, hold your gaze intently before he nods. 

“Follow me then.”

Aemond gives you a tour of the house, showing you all the rooms you’ll have access to. Mysteries are hidden behind closed doors that Aemond doesn’t acknowledge, including a closed door decorated with paintings of vines and flowers. He omits the majority of the west wing of the house which includes the location of his study. 

A man has his secrets, you suppose. 

What he does show you is the kitchen, along with the nursery and the library. Despite the age of the house, the kitchen is large and modern, with cabinets painted a deep forest green beside stainless steel appliances. A gas stove houses a tea kettle, ready and waiting.

He shows you to your room last; on the eastern side of the house close to the nursery. You follow him down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the silence. Aemond has not attempted small talk throughout the tour of the house. 

Aemond has stayed silent unless he is informing where he is taking you next, his hands clasped behind his back. It almost looks uncomfortable, the way he holds himself upright, his spine straight as an arrow. 

“Your sister lives here as well, right?” you ask absentmindedly looking at the tapestries that decorate the hall. 

Aemond stops in front of a door, turning back to you. Those cold eyes stoke a fire within you, setting you ablaze with each glance. He is silent for a moment before he opens the door. 

“This is your room,” he continues, ignoring your question, “There are extra sheets in the lower drawers, and on Sundays, the housekeeper comes to strip the beds and tend to the rest of the house.”

He opens the bottom drawers of the large oak dresser. A large mirror rests on top of it accompanied by a dark jewelry box. The dresser matches the rest of the furniture in the room; all dark stained wood as though each piece was dunked in ink. A large four-poster bed sits in the middle of the room, the green comforter is warm and inviting. You can see God’s Eye from the large arched window; the water sparkles with the afternoon light cascading across the surface like diamonds.

“I hope you’ll find it satisfactory,” Aemond says.

You turn to face him, standing in front of the window letting the warmth of the sun on your face.

“It’s more than satisfactory,” you tell him, “Straight out of a Shirley Jackson novel.”

Aemond shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, seemingly perturbed by your praise. He purses his lips, glancing at the carpeted floor. You swear he’s smirking slightly.

“A backhanded compliment.”

“It’s not meant to be,” you assure him, your face warming with embarrassment.

“Yes well,” he says, clearing his throat, “Let's hope that’s how the buyers feel as well.”

“I didn’t realize you meant to sell,” you tell him.

“It’s ours for now, but I mean to relocate to Summerhal,” he comments, “This house isn’t held long.”

That’s all he says on the matter. You don’t ask him to elaborate. You doubt he would anyway, he seems keen to ignore your curiosity. Aemond leads you down the stairs once more and out through the kitchen onto a stone patio. The view of God’s Eye is spectacular, it’s close enough to stand at the edge if only you run down the hill. 

A garden disrupts the spacious greenery and you walk beside Aemond, struggling to keep up with his long strides. 

“She’s here, she’s here!” a small voice calls, followed by a young girl bursting through the doors and out onto the patio.

“Jaehaera!” a woman calls, chasing after the young girl.

She races down the steps to where you stand with Aemond in the gardens. Cheeks rosy, smiling brightly, Jaehaera Targareyn boldly walks up in front of you. Her blue eyes are wide and she holds out a fist full of daisies.

“I’ve picked these for you,” she declares and you kneel to meet her height, “Talya said I needed to wait.”

You take the flowers from her, pressing them against your nose and inhaling their sweet scent. You’ve always loved daisies. 

“Which you did not,” Tayla says, catching her breath as she arrives, “I’m sorry sir she didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Aemond quips, arms tucked behind his back, “They needed to meet anyway.”

“It’s nice to meet you Jaehaera. I love your dress,” you tell her, and she twirls letting her baby-blue skirt billow around her.

“You’re much prettier than Kepus told me,” Jaehaera says, eyes drinking in every inch of your face.

“I told you I hadn’t any idea what she looked like,” Aemond gently corrects.

You smile, chest feeling warm at her kindness. You tell her your name and her nose crinkles.

“I’m going to call you Miss Gevie,” Jaehaera declares softly, “Because of how perfectly lovely you are.”

“Someone’s been practicing their High Valyrian,” Aemond remarks, “Have you had your lessons today?”

Jaehaera sighs, a very small sound, “Kessa kepus.”

“Syz riña,” Aemond says, a small smile appearing on his face before glancing at you, “You’ll have to meet Maelor as well.”

“Though he’s rather boring,” Jaehaera interrupts, “He only sleeps. I told muña I wanted a sister. I already have a brother.”

Your stomach flips at her words and you glance at Aemond. His expression is stoic, though Talya pales beside him. She steps forward, kneeling next to Jaehaera, who is busy counting the petals of the daisies you now hold. 

“Jaehaera,” she says, forcing a small smile.

“What?”

Tayla grimaces, placing a hand on her shoulder, “We’ve talked about-”

“I want to see muña,” Jaehaera interrupts, shaking off Talya’s comforting hand. She glances at Aemond for help, though he offers none.

“She’s resting now….”

“I want to see her!” Jaehaera insists, louder this time lower lip wobbling.

“Why don’t you say goodbye to Talya first,” Aemond says, “She’s been very kind accompanying you here.”

“You’re leaving?” you ask the woman.

“I’m needed elsewhere, this was a very temporary arrangement,” she tells you.

“She works for my mother,” Aemond clarifies, nostrils flaring slightly, “She was unable to make the journey here.”

You remember reading about Alicent Hightower. You don’t see any of his mother in Aemond’s features. Where Alicent is soft, Aemond is sharp; nose straight and long, chin prominent. The word lethal comes to mind.

Aemond has looks to kill.

You shake your head trying to clear your thoughts. 

“Can I show you my room?” Jaehaera asks, smiling once more.

“I’d love that,” you tell her, letting her place her small hand in yours and lead you back towards the house. 

You glance behind you, watching as Aemond and Talya converse before Harrenhal swallows you once more.

“Miss Gevie,” Jaehaera asks, tugging her comforter up to her chin, “Are you going to stay with us for a long time?”

You stop picking up some of her toys from the floor. You’d been playing with dolls since after dinner and had just settled down to read a story before bed. You smile, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“I am,” you tell her, “Your uncle is working very hard and needs a little extra help.”

Jaehaera nods, taking in the words you speak. Her blue eyes watch you carefully, seeming wiser than her years. 

“I like you,” she says softly, “Kepus likes you too. I can tell. He just doesn’t say so.”

You smile at her. Aemond was clearly softer in the presence of Jaehaera. He’d been more pleasant at dinner than when you’d first arrived. Helaena was absent from supper.

“You’re not going to leave? No matter what?”

You stroke some hair from her face, “I am not going anywhere, any time soon.”

Jaehaera scoots down, laying back against her pillow. You stand, pulling the covers up when something catches your eye. You reach under her pillow, removing a doll that was hidden there. 

“Who’s this?” you ask, staring at the doll. 

It’s barely a doll, more a stick of melted charred plastic, warped from the heat. You can see remnants of legs and arms, the path a flame must have licked up through the plastic; the hair burnt to the scalp. The face is unrecognizable. 

Jaehaera reaches up, closing her small fingers around it.

“He stays here,” she tells you, “He likes to stay inside his castle.”

Geez. Creepy or what? You force a smile, letting her take the weird Barbie.

“Okay,” you tell her, “Goodnight Jaehaera.”

“Goodnight Miss Gevie,” she sing-songs.

“You know, you can just call me by my name,” you remind her.

“I like Miss Gevie better, it suits you,” she insists, yawning.

You find yourself yawning as well, and head to bed. The manor is quiet as you make your way to your room, tucking in for the night.

Sleeping in a new place can cause strange dreams. 

A bloodcurdling scream tears through the halls of the sleepy manor, its icy tendrils ripping you from your dreams and back into your bed. You awake with a gasp, sucking in air as though you’d been held underwater, just breaking through the surface. Hand clutching your throat you sit up, hair sticking to the back of your neck from the layer of sweat that covers your body. 

The house is quiet once more.

Breathing heavily you sit up in bed for a moment, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You rise on shaky legs moving towards the door, and the ancient doorknob groans in protest as you turn it. 

The hallway is dark, moonlight shining through the window at the end painting the floor with streaks of silver. 

Maybe you were still dreaming.

But then, a low groan begins, the guttural sounds of a mourning mother’s wail. It washes over you like ice water and your stomach turns as the scream reaches its highest peak. Despite the alarm in your mind telling you to turn back into your room and hide under the covers, you race down the hallway towards the sound. 

With each and every step toward the western wing, the screaming gets louder, broken up with deep sobs. You quicken your pace, bare feet padding against the carpet as you reach the source. The door you’d passed earlier, painted with flowers and twisting vines is open now, yellow light pouring into the hall from the lamp. 

Aemond holds a girl in his arms--not a girl but a small woman; she’s frail, elbows poking against flesh like a starved baby bird, tears streaming down her ashy cheeks. Her silver hair is damp with perspiration, clinging to her face and neck as she clutches Aemond’s forearm. They’re in a heap together on the floor, Aemond’s arms tensed around her as he gently shushes her. 

“Helaena…it's alright, it was just a dream,” he assures her, his voice softer and warmer than you’ve heard since meeting him. 

He glances up at you, acknowledging your presence but saying nothing; his entire attention is on his sister. 

“It’s never just a dream,” Helaena wails, nails digging into Aemond’s forearm, “Or maybe it is, maybe I’m asleep even now.”

A chill runs down your spine at Helaena’s words.

“Maybe I’ve been sleeping all along,” she continues, eyes glassy and her voice hoarse, “I could feel him, Aemond, it was so real.”

“I know,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I could feel him…in my arms….against my breast like when he was a baby…feeding, it was so real,” she says, her voice dropping into a whisper. 

Helaena’s lips trembled, parted in a silent sob. The hand that does not anchor her to Aemond rests atop her breast, as though she can feel Jaehaerys against her chest even now. 

“It’s alright dōna mandia,” Aemond murmurs, still stroking her hair. He rocks back and forth, starting a gentle pace to soothe her, “Go to the kitchen.” His voice is directed at you this time, your eyes meeting his. The tone he uses is still soft, and when you don’t move, he gestures toward the hall with a nod of his head. 

“Do you hear him?” Helaena continues, “Running down the hall? Jaehaerys! Māzigon kesīr dōna valonqar!” (Come here, sweet boy). 

“There’s no one there, Helaena,” Aemond soothes. 

“I hear him,” she sobs, turning her face into Aemond’s chest, “Why can’t you hear him?”

Helaena’s sobs and questions are still ringing through your head as you leave the room, heading downstairs. 

You make your way to the kitchen, standing in the dark, shocked for a moment before turning on the light. Helaena’s cries and pleas still echo in your mind as you fill the kettle left on the stove and turn on the gas burner. Searching through cabinets you find an array of handmade mugs, choosing a purple one with a twisted handle. 

You rummage through some more drawers until you find some herbal tea, setting it beside the stove as you wait for the water to boil. You tap your fingers against the counter, a nervousness curling in your belly as you gaze out the window that leads to the backyard. You had known Helaena wasn’t well, but you didn’t realize just how serious it was. 

You inhale a deep breath trying to steady yourself. It’s shaken you up quite a bit, hearing her agonized screams. Your hands tremble and you press your palms flat against the counter. A door slams from somewhere upstairs and you glance at the ceiling. 

You look out the window once more, peering into the darkness. The God's Eye is just a still pool reflecting the light of the moon. A shadow moves behind you, reflecting in the glass and you gasp turning around.

“Seven hells!” you curse as Aemond walks into the kitchen, “You scared me.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just watches you for a moment, chest rising and falling with his breath. He must have also been asleep when Helaena’s terrors began as he’s clad in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, silver hair loosely braided down his back.  

Ruby-red beads of blood blossom from the crescent-shaped marks on Aemond’s left forearm. You watch them swell into ruby marbles against his porcelain flesh before he grabs a rag on the counter, covering them. 

“Are you alright?” you ask, as Aemond sits in a chair. 

It’s almost like he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him; he takes a moment to process before he nods. You watch him as he stares at the table, tension rolling off his shoulders. The kettle begins to whistle and you quickly remove it from the stovetop, turning off the flames. 

You pour your own mug before moving to the cabinet where you’d found it, retrieving a second. This one is green with gray streaks. Another handmade treasure, you’re sure. 

You make Aemond a cup of tea, placing it in front of him before taking the seat next to him. His eye flickers toward the steaming cup. Though he hesitates for a moment, he wraps his long fingers against it, pulling it closer.

“It’s hot,” you tell him, as he lifts it to his lips.

“I don’t mind,” he murmurs. You’d likely burn your lip if you didn’t wait a few minutes. Aemond sighs contentedly, violet eye meeting yours.

“Thank you,” he says softly, “I should have told you…”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, “I figured she was grieving. You’d mentioned she’d been unwell.”

“The doctors say it's night terrors,” Aemond comments, taking another sip, “Due to the trauma she’s experienced.”

“That makes sense.”

“I’m meant to speak with her psychiatrist later this week,” he says, “She’s begun a new medication to help her sleep. I don’t think it’s been doing her any good.”

“Sometimes those things take time,” you tell him, trying to ease some of his distress. He merely hums in response, as though he’s heard it all before. You glance at the rag on his forearm, biting on your lower lip before deciding to speak again. “Do you have a first aid kit?” 

Aemond nods, bringing a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Above the fridge,” he murmurs, not looking up.

Rising from your seat, you retrieve the small kit, and place it on the table in front of you. You reach out toward him, tentatively moving the rag from his forearm, revealing the crescent-shaped marks. They’ve begun to clot, and you fold the rag into a small square, placing it on the table beside you. You dig for a few bandaids settling for the smallest ones. 

“She had nowhere else to go,” Aemond says, more to himself than to you as you place the bandages on his arm, “Jaerhara, and Maelor they need to be with family. There’s no one else. Nowhere else.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” you tell him, pulling your hands away. You reach for your mug, placing your hands around it and letting the warmth seep into you. 

Aemond hums, not answering, though he seems unconvinced by your statement. 

“I mean it,” you tell him, “I can see how much you care about them. And your sister.”

Aemond meets your eye once more, his gaze softening.

“She is the best person,” he tells you, his voice even and calm, “The best mother….the best sister.”

There’s pain hidden behind the words that he speaks; you can hear it coating his voice. 

“She’s just in one of her hard times,” he assures you, “She goes through phases. Not..not wanting to see Maelor…it comes and goes.”

You reach for his hand. In the heat of the moment, you’re not sure what else to do. There are no more words of comfort to offer him. Your hand fits in his perfectly, resting on top of the table. His palm is warm, the skin surprisingly calloused. Your lips part, a soft gasp slipping free at the feeling of his hand in yours. 

Eyes wide, you smile softly at him before squeezing comfort into his hand. Aemond doesn’t squeeze back, but he doesn’t pull his hand away either. You sit like that for several minutes, neither of you moving. 

“Your tea will get cold,” Aemond eventually murmurs, breaking the silence. 

Your hand slips out of his grasp, the sudden emptiness making you shiver. Clutching the mug, you bring it to your lips, sipping carefully. 

It’s already cold.

How long have you been sitting here?

Aemond is watching you still, as you lower the mug. He stands then, taking both mugs to the sink.

“It’s late,” he comments, “We should get some sleep.”

You nod, standing. Aemond pushes into your chair, walking beside you back upstairs. He turns toward the western wing. 

“You’re not going to sleep?” you ask, unable to help yourself.

“I am,” Aemond says, turning slightly, “I prefer to stay in my study.”

“Oh,” you comment, “Well ... .goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says before disappearing down the hallway.

You return to your room, lying underneath the covers trying to get warm when you come to a realization. 

That was the first time Aemond had called you by your name.

note: let me know what you think! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them)

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[a-d-nox]

wyrd web: what to gift a person based these three numbers

this is just a theory of mine because these bubbles of the matrix should represent earthly desires. this is not to say that you can't enjoy things not listed in your category / under your energetic number. this is simply what i believe people with these numbers would enjoy receiving as a gift.

2 - the high priestess

things that support their spiritual practices, things that support feminine health (hum women's probiotics bundle, honey pot oral vaginal care probiotic, etc), bake goods / baking gear, barbecue sauce sampler / grilling gear (for the dads pt 2), bar in a jar (for those of drinking age) or really any beverage tester kit, bath/spa kit, beach vacation, boat, cruise, careof for brain support, truly nice melons boob butter, candles (it doesn't have to be yankee candle either - bent candles, spiced votive candle, etc) or candle making kit, imported cheeses, clothing staples (blue jeans, black turtleneck, etc), juice cleanse or other things that support digestive health, cooking classes or meal kits (hellofresh, homechef, etc), a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, or outdoor cameras or other home security tools

3 - the empress

pillows, stuffed animals, rose quartz, personal celebrity cameo, clothing, tickets for an art museum tour, ballet tickets or classes, art supplies, makeup pallets and/or brushes, flowers, jewelry, candy/sweets, money, bells / wind chimes, clothing, designer pieces, cosmetics, dolls, a trip to a fancy restaurant, fruit basket / dried fruits, gardening supplies, jewelry, concert/orchestra tickets, poetry book, tickets to a play, a purse, lingerie (if y'all are close like that), trip to a vineyard (for those of drinking age), couples' dancing classes, or a wallet

4 - the emperor

skincare, rock climbing voucher or some other physical activity they enjoy, an adrenaline rush activity (skydiving, bungee jumping, etc), careof for brain support, crafted wooden objects (cutting boards, tables, etc), coffee trials/samplers, sunglasses, blue light glasses, hair care products/supplies, scalp treatments/care, oral health care (thera breath, whitening products, etc), meditation app subscriptions / in person sessions for meditation, or a planner

5 - the hierophant

moss agate (don't question how random that sounds this is some intuitive stuff), artwork, an architectural tour, beauty products/supplies, historically significant objects, pastries or sweets/candies, earrings, sour dough starter kit, jewelry in general, piano/organ lessons, singing lessons, a wallet, or any classes where they can learn something fun and new to them

6 - the lovers

car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), bicycle or bicycle accessories/gear, books (the more educational the better), briefcase / work tote, bus tickets for a day trip, gym membership or soulcycle classes, crystals, a standing desk / cute office supplies (for the work girlies both those who work in office and from home), hand & foot message, manicure voucher, newspaper subscription (i am a fan of new york times, washington post, and the new yorker), language classes or rosetta stone subscription, magazines subscription, merchandise from their favorite singer / group / tv show / movie, train trip, or we're not really strangers card packs

7 - the chariot

gardening supplies, hermit crab, baked goods, bath products / beauty products, boat, cruise, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), truly nice melons boob butter, juice cleanse, gut health thrive market kit, glassware / blown glass, stuff they need / need for their home (security system, chest freezer, etc), hotel or bed & breakfast stay, kitchenware, lake trip, pearls, real estate / land, restaurant voucher / gift card, silver jewelry, shopping gift cards, a trip, or intention journal

8 - strength

amusement park tickets, supplies for their passion projects, ballroom dancing classes, tea sampler, games (video games or board games), movie theater gift card, personal celebrity cameo, flower garden supplies/seeds, stuff for their pet, or a belt

9 - the hermit

pet related gifts (if they have a pet that is), bookshelves (they probably need one), juice cleanse, gut health thrive market kit, a cat, clothing, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), stationary, emergency preparedness (ready to eat meals, fire blanket, etc), cook books, dining ware (new plates/bowls, cups / glassware, silverware, etc), food subscriptions (home chef, hello fresh, pickle of the month club, bokksu japanese snack box, etc), careof subscription, gloves, herb garden kit, a one way ticket to anywhere, or a hiking trip

10 - wheel of fortune

incense, cleansing herbs, bow and arrow, sapling, land, dried berries, budget book, gym/exercise membership, religious/spiritual/philosophical books, poker set, cloth (if they like sowing), wool (if they like weaving, crocheting, and/or knitting), wool clothing, a coat, trip to a country or place they have never been, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), etiquette classes/books (this is great for the traveler because they are often interested in learning customs before going on their trip), figs, fruit basket (like edible arrangements), honey sampler / royal jelly, horseback riding lessons, lottery tickets, merchandise from their favorite singer / group/ tv show / movie, shoes, really any game, any subscription they have not tried, things that support their spiritual practices, or book on positive mindset

11 - justice

personal celebrity cameo, tickets to a ballet or to an art gallery, air purifier, portable heating pad, spa voucher, cosmetics, lingerie (if y'all are close), closet organizational items (space saving hangers, linen bins, accessory hanger, etc), pastries and sweets, diamonds (perhaps propose to your lover), a dress, tickets to a fashion show or exhibit, flowers, a luxury chair, jewelry, concert tickets, poetry books, any quartz pieces, chocolates dipped strawberries, hair extensions, logic puzzles, a voucher for an escape room, or a kitchen/baking scale

12 - the hanged man

bar in a jar (if they are of drinking age), a book on angel numbers, a book on natural medical remedies, ballet classes or tickets to see a ballet, bath bombs and other bath goodies (salt, bath table, candles, sugar scrub, bath teas, etc), beach vacation, tea or coffee sampler, butterfly farm kit with caterpillars, disposable camera or a camera they would like (polaroid, filming, etc), scientific kits (geode kit, grow your own crystals, etc), cigars (for the dads in your life), unsolved mysteries or crime kit, dance classes, smutty/romance/fantasy books, fairy garden, a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, budget book, makeup palettes or other cosmetic they enjoy, concert tickets, paint, poetry books, clue the board game, a pass to an indoor pool, a book on poppet making, meditation membership or a voucher for in-person sessions, or something to support their curiosity for new spiritual insight

13 - death

hermit crab, a jumping spider, a reptile, homeopathic books for natural cures and remedies, operation the game, butcherbox subscription, a book on how to cook and trim meats, beginners chemistry kit, a colon cleanse, sea monkeys, unsolved mysteries or crime kit, philosophy of death books, books on magic, magic the gathering the card game, period products (portable heating pad, the diva cup, etc), poisonous plants (belladonna, foxglove, lily of the valley, etc), a frog pond, a scorpion, a snake, a burr/boo basket (these people love seasonal stuff), or marie kondo's life changing magic of tidying up

14 - temperance

a hunting trip, bow and arrows, books on religion or philosophy, book of devotions, book on dream meanings (hello, freud haha), a certification course or college class, horseback riding lessons (for the newbie or a younger sibling or your child/niece/nephew), horse drawn carriage ride (for the couples *smirk*), logic puzzles, things that support their goals, or a book of angel number meanings

15 - the devil

a fan or air conditioning unit, if you have the land for it a cow/horse/goat, kinetic tape, arnicare bruise cream (this is a joke... unless...), coal or a diamond (this is also a joke... unless...), a clock or a watch, cuticle trimmer (and other nail care things), room darkening curtains, a happy lamp, lotion/cream, hat/scarf/gloves, hair products (extensions, shampoo subscription, etc), leather fashion-ware, gardening supplies, ice maker, or a juice cleanse

16 - the tower

tiger balm or other pain relieving ointment, acrobatic/gymnastic classes, homeopathic books for natural cures and remedies, first-aid kit, baking kits, barbecue sauce sampler, barbecue sauce sampler / grilling gear (for the dads), gift card for haircut, dollar shave club (for the dads pt 2), metal works (spoon handle rings, metal roses, etc), boxing lessons, boxing match tickets or monster truck tickets, butcherbox subscription, a book on how to cook and trim meats, crafted wooden objects (cutting boards, tables, etc), cactus plant, beginners chemistry kit, cookbook, pocket knife or leatherman/multitool, tool kit, jenga, emergency kit, food, first aid kit, merchandise for their favorite superhero(es), electric lighter, liqour or bar in a jar (if they are of drinking age), rock music (a vinyl or concert tickets), pepper plant, pipe for smoking (if they like to smoke that is - my grandfather had a collection), lego kit, or lincoln logs

17 - the star

friendship bracelets, a fan / ac unit, model airplane, flight lessons, compression stockings/socks, architectural tour, astrology reading, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), club memberships (golf, racket ball, sam's, etc), electronic devices (a new phone, amazon fire stick, solar portable charger, etc), movie on blue-ray or dvd, movie gift card, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, shadow work journal, aesthetically pleasing bluetooth retro radio, streaming service subscription, a book on health or mental health, or a book on positivity

18 - the moon

abstract art, bar in a jar (if they are of legal age), a fish, a fish tank, tickets to an aquarium, cocktail book (if they are of legal age), a fishing trip (for the dads), book of conspiracy theories, the conspiracy theory map, a crystal ball, unsolved mysteries or crime kit, a jellyfish, a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, poetry book, hydroponic starter system, games that involve bluffing (clue, poker, herd mentality, etc), shoes, sleeping eye mask, silk pillow cases, new bed sheets, bonnet, socks, a computer keyboard, typewriter, a book on shadow work, a puppy, or a book on dream meanings

19 - the sun

maine coon, autobiographical books, ballroom dancing lessons, poker set, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), card games, personal celebrity cameo, circus fruit basket, chocolate gold coins, classes that encourage creativity (create it and break it sessions, pottery classes, etc), jewelry or an engagement ring (if it's been more than 2 years y'all should know what you are doing at this point), flowers, indoor herb garden, tickets to race of some sort (cars, horse, sporting events, etc), sporting equipment, ivy plant, a pottery painting voucher / gift certificate, or something for their passion project / hobby

20 - judgment

a reptile, ant farm, a guide on astral projection, operation the game, the chameleon game, clue game, unsolved case files game, grand theft auto video game, assassins creed video game, dungeons and dragons the game, yahtzee, emergency preparedness kit, magician kit, poisonous plants (belladonna, foxglove, lily of the valley, etc), the divine comedy, puzzles, a rodent of some sort, or lingerie (if y'all are close)

21 - the world

gardening supplies, acoustic guitar, air conditioning or fan, architectural tour, teddy bear, snow globe, boots, calendar or planner, supergoop (sun protectant) products, wooden objects (cutting board, chest, box, etc), carpet, clay (air drying or via kiln), a clock or watch, compression stockings/socks, collectible coins, pain patches or kinetic tape, crystals, budget book, lotions for dry skin, dried fruits, gloves/mittens, hair care products, ice machine or ice making trays, ice cream subscription, pottery classes, rain coat, real estate or land, zen sand garden, sculpture, or snake

22 - the fool

flight lessons, model airplane, a flight to anywhere, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), an astrology reading, bath products, biking gear, movie theatre gift card, clock or watch, club memberships (golf, racket ball, sam's, etc), mood lighting or strip lights, a train ride, fun magnets, motorcycle accessories/training, microphone (maybe they are filming or recording something), patterns for cross stitch / knitting / crocheting, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, stuff for the tv (surround sound, sound bar, streaming subscription, etc), or classes for one of their interests

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[maeby-cursed]

vampire!satoru who’s not used to being in the shadows. 

he gets turned very young and lives through every stage he could possibly live through; denial, starvation, a deep self loathing and a bitter feeling of acceptance. he was never too concerned about harming others but he was also not used to having his liberties curtailed.

vampire!satoru who begins to hunt others.

he needs the blood, quite literally, to survive. he’s also gotten even more vain in this new skin, this odd state of life between what was and death. he hasn’t found any others like him yet so he has no guidance, he hunts men and women alike and tries to figure out what he likes. he can’t help but admire himself though; this new glow of his skin, his elongated canines… he enjoys the blood dripping down his face, the only drop of color against the white of his hair, skin and eyes. 

vampire!satoru who gives up on morals entirely. 

he finds new victims easily and feeds on them, enjoying himself like narcissus in the lake. he buys a mansion by stealing money from every prey and works out a system to enjoy his life to the fullest even if he cannot see the sun ever again. he tricks and manipulates women and lies and slaughters men by the thousands. he feels numb with every drop of blood.

he never once kills a child.

vampire!satoru who meets you.

it’s a cold january night and a blizzard has struck the town he resides in at the moment. he could very well go out if he felt inclined to but he’s not forgotten his lazy ways, he doesn’t feel like chasing some poor victim in the middle of a snow storm just to get a drop of cold blood. he’s not that desperate. 

he spends his night reading, studying, turning the tv on and off and contemplating himself on every surface he can see himself reflected upon. 

he’s in the middle of admiring his eyes on a silver spoon when someone knocks on his door. he’s so startled he drops the utensil, and now he’s annoyed. no one startles the satoru gojo.

vampire!satoru who opens the door and sees your face for the first time.

you’re wrapped in a thick coat, hair floating around your visage due to the wind. he’s struck for a moment with a memory he can’t recall; a warm smile and a mane of black hair. 

“who the hell are you?” he asks. 

vampire!satoru who for an unknown reason decides to listen to you.

you explain how you were about to catch a flight when the storm hit, how you don’t know the town very well and cannot find your way to a hotel. a shy smile makes your cheeks soft when you timidly ask if you could stay for a night. 

vampire!satoru who is a predator, vampire!satoru who is an animal, vampire!satoru who is not human, not your friend, not kind, not good.

vampire!satoru who for a second feels greedy.

you trust him. you trust this creature in front of you who is very obviously not like you, who has the coldest eyes you’ve ever met and the longest canines you’ve ever seen. your instincts know – they must.

and yet… he can see it in your eyes, the kindness hidden behind the pupils that tell him you always expect people to be good, even when you shouldn’t.

vampire!satoru who feels thirsty for something that isn’t blood for the first time in a hundred years.

vampire!satoru who can’t remember who he was all those years ago.

he can’t remember the faces of those he used to love, can’t remember how he looked like or what he thought of the world. who was a human in a world of humans and now feels like a child who’s been told he has to hurt others to survive. 

he can’t remember what he’s done since he was turned, can’t remember the number of victims or what they looked like. who was reborn alone and has lived alone and will exist forever alone.

vampire!satoru who really truly doesn’t want this to be his existence. 

vampire!satoru who answers your question with an “okay” and lets you in.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Came across another of my faves that sold. Now, this looks like an ordinary, plain, even boring, ranch style home. Built in 2011 in San Angelo, TX, the 6bd, 8ba, 8,017 sq ft home sold for $1.95M.

Enter thru bright green doors. Just by the floor, you can tell it's going to be interesting.

It's a very long gallery with a silver ceiling.

I like this black, white, silver and green decor.

Large open concept room has white walls, but lots of color. Love the tile on the fireplace.

They did do the molding black, but it's tying in with the decor. There's the dining room to the left and the kitchen to the right.

In this corner there's a piano, art, and colorful drapery panels.

This looks like a smaller, intimate dining table.

And, in this open room they have a formal dining area.

The kitchen is shades of teal, turquoise and pale gray. Why paint the cabinets all one color? Interestingly, the kitchen includes a round banquette.

I thought that it was open, but it's not- it has that open wall on the right.

The primary suite is very colorful and very large. It has a whole living room size area.

The fireplace wall is stunning.

The en-suite matches the lime green bedroom.

Plus, there's a large walk-in closet/dressing room.

Cozy family room- isn't that an interesting coffee table?

Half bath with 2 different wallpaper patterns.

The secondary bedroom is huge.

Look at this.

Matching en-suite with a lovely sink and tub.

And, this bedroom also has a walk-in closet/dressing room.

Even this smaller bedroom is a plethora of color.

Look at this. It's like a hotel, indoors. A pool and a balcony. Have you ever seen a pool w/living room furniture around it? And, to the side, there's a kitchen. What an entertaining space.

This home goes on and on. The blue spiral stairs go up to a guest suite.

It's like a studio apt.

The 1.23 acre property is on Lake Nasworthy.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3601-Country-Club-Rd-San-Angelo-TX-76904/213370516_zpid/?

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in October 2024 🌈

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Happy reading!

❓What was the last queer book you read?

[ Release dates may have changed. List below! ]

❤️ Back in the Hunt - K. Sterling 🧡 The Connoisseur's Christmas Courtship - L.M. Bennett 💛 Shoestring Theory - Mariana Costa 💚 The Black Hunger - Nicholas Pullen 💙 Wild Fire - Radclyffe 💜 Because Fat Girl - Lauren Marie Fleming ❤️ The Ace and Aro Relationship Guide - Cody Daigle-Orians 🧡 Soul Survivors - River Kai 💛 Stolen Hearts - Michele Castleman 💙 Reverence - Milena McKay 💜 Love Immortal - Kit Vincent

❤️ Take a Sad Song - Ona Gritz 🧡 Showmance - Chad Beguelin 💛 Redundancies & Potentials - Dominique Dickey 💚 Alexander - Karla Nikole 💙 Rest in Peaches - Alex Brown 💜 Rise of the Wrecking Crew - Kalynn Bayron ❤️ Language Lessons - Sage Donnell 🧡 Legend of the White Snake - Sher Lee 💛 Sorcery and Small Magis - Maiga Doocy 💙 Cried Out - Kate Hawthorne 💜 Skysong - C.A. Wright 🌈 No Rules Tonight - Kim Hyun Sook, Ryan Estrada

❤️ My Mother's Ridiculous Rules for Dating - Philip William Stover 🧡 I Shall Never Fall in Love - Hari Conner 💛 Castle Swimmer - Wendy Martin 🧡 The Hollow and the Haunted - Camilla Raines 💙 How Does That Make You Feel, Magda Eklund? - Anna Montague 💜 The Arizona Triangle - Sydney Graves ❤️ Every Rule Undone - Nancy S.M. Waldman 🧡 Mister Nice - Jamie Jennings 💛 Under the Mistletoe with You - Lizzie Huxley-Jones 💙 How to Fall in Love in a Time of Unnameable Disaster - Muriel Leung 💜 The Snowball Effect - Haley Cass 🌈 This Will Be Fun - E.B. Asher

❤️ Our Evenings - Alan Hollinghurst 🧡 Don't Let the Forest In - C.G. Drews 💛 Finding Delaware - Bree Wiley 💚 The Reeds - Arjun Basu 💙 The Bloodless Princes - Charlotte Bond 💜 Women's Hotel - Daniel M. Lavery ❤️ Alex McKenna and the Academy of Souls - Vicki-Ann Bush 🧡 A Vile Season - David Ferraro 💛 Synchronicity - J.J. Hale 💙 Writ of Love - Cassidy Crane 💜 Di-Curious - Erin Branch 🌈 Swordcrossed - Freya Marske

❤️ Stand Up! - Tori Sharp 🧡 Haunt Me, Baby - Rose Santoriello 💚 Planet Drag: Uncover the Global Herstory - Various 💙 Until We Shatter - Kate Dylan 💜 Metal from Heaven - August Clarke ❤️ Vicious Fates and Vast Futures - Tilly Bramley 🧡 The Daughter of Danray - Natalia Hernandez 💛 If I Stopped Haunting You - Colby Wilkens 💙 The Darkness Behind The Door - Mira Gonzalez 💜 Hunt Monsters, Do Magic, and Fall in Love - A.M. Weald 🌈 Jasmine Is Haunted - Mark Oshiro

❤️ Model Home - Rivers Solomon 🧡 Haunting Melody - Chloe Spencer 💛 The Door in Lake Mallion - S.M. Beiko 💚 The City in Glass - Nghi Vo 💙 Fang Fiction - Kate Stayman-London 💜 The Merriest Misters - Timothy Janovsky ❤️ Make the Season Bright - Ashley Herring Blake 🧡 My Kind of Trouble - L.A. Schwartz 💛 To Become A Flower - CEON 💙 What Was Lost - Melissa Connelly 💜 The Forbidden Book - Sacha Lamb 🌈 This Dark Paradise - Erin Luken

❤️ The Sound of Storms - Anya Keeler 🧡 Country Queers - Rae Garringer 💛 A Spell for Heartsickness - Alistair Reeves 💚 The Stars Inside Us - Kristy Gardner 💙 October's Ocean - Delaine Coppock 💜 Haunt Your Heart Out - Amber Roberts ❤️ The Dark Becomes Her - Judy I. Lin 🧡 Power Pose - Emily Silver 💛 The Magic You Make - Jason June 💙 House of Elephants - Claribel A. Ortega 💜 Tegan and Sara: Crush - Tegan Quin, Sara Quin, Tillie Walden 🌈 The Brightness Between Us - Eliot Schrefer

❤️ The Spring before Obergefell - Benjamin S. Grossberg 🧡 Pray For Him - Tyler Battaglia 💛 Coup de Grâce - Sofia Ajram 💚 Coal Gets In Your Veins - Cat Rector 💙 He Who Bleeds - Dorian Valentine 💜 The Revenge of Captain Vessia - Leslie Allen ❤️ Camelot's Tower - Brooke Matthews 🧡 The Manor - Tiffany E. Taylor 💛 Arcanum - Ashlyn Drewek 💙 Strange Beasts - Susan J. Morris 💜 On Vicious Worlds - Bethany Jacobs 🌈 Death Song - B. Ripley

❤️ Best Hex Ever - Nadia El-Fassi 🧡 I'll Be Gone for Christmas - Georgia K. Boone 💛 Make My Wish Come True - Rachael Lippincott, Alyson Derrick 💚 Gentlest of Wild Things - Sarah Underwood 💙 Troth - E.H. Lupton 💜 Solis - Paola Mendoza & Abby Sher ❤️ Lucy, Uncensored - Mel Hammond, Teghan Hammond 🧡 Mama - Nikkya Hargrove 💛 Under All the Lights - Maya Ameyaw 💙 Reclaimed - Seth Haddon 💜 The Devil's Dilemma - Alex J. Adams 🌈 The Jovian Madrigals - Janneke de Beer

❤️ Blood Price - Nicole Evans 🧡 Worship Me - K.C. Blume 💛 All the Hearts You Eat - Hailey Piper 💚 The Nightmare Before Kissmas - Sara Raasch 💙 Rogue Community College - David R. Slayton 💜 Mistress of Hours - Emma Elizabeth ❤️ The Dog Trainer's Secret - Sav Uong 🧡 Most Wonderful - Georgia Clark 💛 Antenora - Dori Lumpkin 💙 House of Frank - Kay Synclaire 💜 Sir Callie and the Witch's War - Esme Symes-Smith 🌈 Prince of Fortune - Lisa Tirreno

[zoesblogsposts]

o 625 words to know in your target language o

There is a really interesting blog called "Fluent Forever" that aids foreign language learners in tricks, tips and techniques to guide them to achieving fluency "quickly" and efficiently. One of the tricks is to learn these 625 vocab words in your target language, that way you have a basis to start delving into grammar with ease as you can understand a lot of vocab right off the bat. Plus this list of words are common across the world and will aid you in whatever language you are learning. Here is the list in thematic order

• Animal: dog, cat, fish, bird, cow, pig, mouse, horse, wing, animal

• Transportation: train, plane, car, truck, bicycle, bus, boat, ship, tire, gasoline, engine, (train) ticket, transportation

• Location: city, house, apartment, street/road, airport, train station, bridge hotel, restaurant, farm, court, school, office, room, town, university, club, bar, park, camp, store/shop, theater, library, hospital, church, market, country (USA,

France, etc.), building, ground, space (outer space), bank, location

• Clothing: hat, dress, suit, skirt, shirt, T-shirt, pants, shoes, pocket, coat, stain, clothing

• Color: red, green, blue (light/dark), yellow, brown, pink, orange, black, white, gray, color

• People: son, daughter, mother, father, parent (= mother/father), baby, man, woman, brother, sister, family, grandfather, grandmother, husband, wife, king, queen, president, neighbor, boy, girl, child (= boy/girl), adult (= man/woman), human (# animal), friend (Add a friend's name), victim, player, fan, crowd, person

• Job: Teacher, student, lawyer, doctor, patient, waiter, secretary, priest, police, army, soldier, artist, author, manager, reporter, actor, job

• Society: religion, heaven, hell, death, medicine, money, dollar, bill, marriage, wedding, team, race (ethnicity), sex (the act), sex (gender), murder, prison, technology, energy, war, peace, attack, election, magazine, newspaper, poison, gun, sport, race (sport), exercise, ball, game, price, contract, drug, sign, science, God

• Art. band, song, instrument (musical), music, movie, art

• Beverages: coffee, tea, wine, beer, juice, water, milk, beverage

• Food: egg, cheese, bread, soup, cake, chicken, pork, beef, apple, banana orange, lemon, corn, rice, oil, seed, knife, spoon, fork, plate, cup, breakfast, lunch, dinner, sugar, salt, bottle, food

• Home: table, chair, bed, dream, window, door, bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, pencil, pen, photograph, soap, book, page, key, paint, letter, note, wall, paper, floor, ceiling, roof, pool, lock, telephone, garden, yard, needle, bag, box, gift, card, ring, tool

• Electronics: clock, lamp, fan, cell phone, network, computer, program (computer), laptop, screen, camera, television, radio

• Body: head, neck, face, beard, hair, eye, mouth, lip, nose, tooth, ear, tear (drop), tongue, back, toe, finger, foot, hand, leg, arm, shoulder, heart, blood, brain, knee, sweat, disease, bone, voice, skin, body

• Nature: sea, ocean, river, mountain, rain, snow, tree, sun, moon, world, Earth, forest, sky, plant, wind, soil/earth, flower, valley, root, lake, star, grass, leaf, air, sand, beach, wave, fire, ice, island, hill, heat, nature

• Materials: glass, metal, plastic, wood, stone, diamond, clay, dust, gold, copper, silver, material

• Math/Measurements: meter, centimeter, kilogram, inch, foot, pound, half, circle, square, temperature, date, weight, edge, corner

• Misc Nouns: map, dot, consonant, vowel, light, sound, yes, no, piece, pain, injury, hole, image, pattern, noun, verb, adjective

• Directions: top, bottom, side, front, back, outside, inside, up, down, left, right, straight, north, south, east, west, direction

• Seasons: Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, season

• Numbers: 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 21, 22, 30, 31, 32, 40, 41, 42, 50, 51, 52, 60, 61, 62, 70, 71, 72, 80, 81, 82, 90, 91, 92, 100, 101, 102, 110, 111, 1000, 1001, 10000, 100000, million, billion, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, number

• Months: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December

• Days of the week: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

• Time: year, month, week, day, hour, minute, second, morning, afternoon, evening, night, time

• Verbs: work, play, walk, run, drive, fly, swim, go, stop, follow, think, speak/say, eat, drink, kill, die, smile, laugh, cry, buy, pay, sell, shoot(a gun), learn, jump, smell, hear (a sound), listen (music), taste, touch, see (a bird), watch (TV), kiss, burn, melt, dig, explode, sit, stand, love, pass by, cut, fight, lie down, dance, sleep, wake up, sing, count, marry, pray, win, lose, mix/stir, bend, wash, cook, open, close, write, call, turn, build, teach, grow, draw, feed, catch, throw, clean, find, fall, push, pull, carry, break, wear, hang, shake, sign, beat, lift

• Adjectives: long, short (long), tall, short (vs tall), wide, narrow, big/large, small/little, slow, fast, hot, cold, warm, cool, new, old (new), young, old (young), weak, dead, alive, heavy, light (heavy), dark, light (dark), nuclear, famous

[alwayschasingrainbows]

My little quest to find the most iconic dresses for Montgomery's girls.

None of the pictures is mine. They are all from Pinterest. They may be historically inaccurate. They are also not ideal :).

Valancy Stirling:

"She got a pretty green crêpe dress with a girdle of crimson beads, at a bargain sale, a pair of silk stockings, to match, and a little crinkled green hat with a crimson rose in it." (The Blue Castle).

"She had a little smoke-blue chiffon which she always put on when they spent the evening at home—smoke-blue with touches of silver about it." (The Blue Castle).

My idea of what Valancy's (borrowed) masquerade dress MIGHT have looked like.

"Once they did go to a masquerade dance in the pavilion at one of the hotels up the lake, and had a glorious evening, but slipped away in their canoe, before unmasking time, back to the Blue Castle." (The Blue Castle).

Emily Byrd Starr

On the left: "It is to be of shot silk, blue in one light, silver in others, like a twilight sky, glimpsed through a frosted window-pane—with a bit of lace-foam here and there, like those little feathers of snow clinging to my window-pane." (Emily Climbs)

On the right: "An arrow of rhinestones in her dark hair—she had hair that wore jewels well—lent the necessary note of brilliance to the new dress of silvery-green lace over a pale-blue slip that became her so well." (Emily's Quest).

On the left: "it was a pretty crepe thing, of a pinkish-grey—the shade, I think, which was then called ashes-of-roses—and was made collarless—a great concession on Elizabeth's part—with the big puffed sleeves that look very absurd to-day, but which, like every other fashion, were pretty and piquant when worn by the youth and beauty of their time." (Emily Climbs).

On the right: "I want you to wear harebell blue gauze over ivory taffeta for your bridesmaid dress, darling" (Emily's Quest).

Anne Shirley:

"Oh, how pretty it was—a lovely soft brown gloria with all the gloss of silk; a skirt with dainty frills and shirrings; a waist elaborately pintucked in the most fashionable way, with a little ruffle of filmy lace at the neck. But the sleeves—they were the crowning glory! Long elbow cuffs, and above them two beautiful puffs divided by rows of shirring and bows of brown-silk ribbon." (Anne of Green Gables).

"In her light dress, with her slender delicacy, she made him think of a white iris." (Anne of Island).

Rilla Blythe

"Miss Oliver, shall I wear my white dress tonight or my new green one? The green one is by far the prettier, of course, but I'm almost afraid to wear it to a shore dance for fear something will happen to it." (Rilla of Ingleside).

Pat Gardiner:

On the right: "Pat slipped into the house and flung a bright-hued scarf over her brown dress with its neck-frill of pleated pink chiffon. She always thought she looked nicer in that dress than any other." (Pat of Silver Bush).

On the left: "Pat had on her blue linen afternoon dress...which, incidentally, was the most becoming thing she owned."(Pat of Silver Bush).

And bonus:

Robin Stuart

"She wore a dress of pale yellow taffeta, with a great rose of deeper yellow velvet at one of her beautiful shoulders. Jane thought she looked like a lovely golden princess, with the slender flame of the diamond bracelet on the creamy satin of her arm."(Jane of Lantern Hill).

"[M]other came in to kiss her good night, cool, slim and fragrant, in a dress of rose crêpe with little wisps of lace over the shoulders. Mother's blue eyes seemed to mist a little."(Jane of Lantern Hill).

"She wore a green dress the first time I saw her...well, if any other girl had worn the dress, it would have been a green dress and nothing more. On Robin it was magic ...mystery...the robe of Titania. I would have kissed the hem of it." (Jane of Lantern Hill).

Another bonus (because her style is so iconic):

Ilse Burnley

"Ilse in a yellow silk gown the colour of her hair and a golden-brown hat the colour of her eyes, giving you the sensation that a gorgeous golden rose was at large in the garden." (Emily's Quest).

"Ilse, a glorified shining creature in torquoise-blue taffeta, looking the queen with a foam of laces on her full bosom and rose-and-silver nosegays at her shoulder." (Emily's Quest).

Hope you enjoyed this little compilation:) Feel free to add more ideas!

[johaerys-writes]

Ch. 5: i thought we were the same, birds of a feather

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

By the time they leave their hotel room, most museums are closed for the day, but there’s still a few that are open. Achilles drags Patroclus from exhibit to exhibit in the Art Museum, telling him about each artist and art movement he has studied in detail beforehand. They stay there until closure, then they visit the botanical gardens, a vast swath of land filled with rare species of trees, bushes and flowers, fountains and streams and glass-like lakes with swans and other water birds gliding leisurely around them.

Achilles chirps merrily about this and that —botany has always been a shared interest of theirs, ever since they used to spend most of their summer in Chiron’s camp— and he laughs often, much more than Patroclus has seen him doing in years. Even before he left for Switzerland, when their relationship had already started getting rocky.

Patroclus had felt guilty about that for a long while, the fact that their… differences and arguments had soured the easy companionship they once used to share. He’d felt partly responsible for that: for disrupting the plans that he and Achilles had meticulously been crafting for years, then for not being able to be happy for Achilles for going on without him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find a silver lining in the situation they’d both found themselves in. Besides, it’s not like Achilles had ever made things easy for him, rubbing his adventures and his glittering social life in his face one moment, then baiting him into endless arguments the next; so, really, feeling bad about it all had been pointless from the start.

But he still feels that sharp pang of hurt when he sees Achilles' smile now, genuine and sweet like it used to be, as he glimpses a side of him that he hasn’t seen in so long. As his heart jumps each time their hands touch. This is what he’d missed, more than anything, why he envied all those nameless new friends of his: being around him, talking and joking with him, simply having fun with him. They hadn’t done that in so long amidst all that turmoil, but somehow Patroclus finds himself falling perfectly in step with him as if they haven’t missed a single day.

“Look, Pat!” Achilles exclaims suddenly, catching Patroclus’ hand and pointing at a tall and robust tree a little down the lane. “That’s a Tebusu Heritage tree. It’s said to be one of the oldest in the world, over 170 years old. Remember those ancient trees we used to study on Pelion? You used to love those.”

Patroclus follows him as he rushes forth to examine them. These trees here are shorter and more slender than the ones on Pelion, but they still stir fond memories in him, of long summers spent idling in their shade.

“These gardens are great,” Achilles says enthusiastically, after his lengthy explanation of the trees’ properties and their specific characteristics. “Much better than the gardens in Zurich, I should say. Maybe London, too. I was there for a photoshoot for a brand collab a few months ago and they weren’t half as extensive or rich as these…”

He lets his sentence trail off, sneaking a shy glance at Patroclus. His throat bobs as he swallows, and he looks away.

“What’s wrong?” Patroclus asks softly. He gives his hand a gentle nudge. “Keep going. I want to hear it.”

“It’s just… you never like it when I talk about… you know. Travelling, being abroad, doing photoshoots and all that. So… I’ve been trying not to.”

Patroclus stares at him, taken aback. Achilles didn’t seem to have the same inhibitions a year ago, when he’d shamelessly send him photos from whatever club, restaurant or continent he’d find himself in. Patroclus wonders if Achilles knew it was bothering him, even then. Knowing him, it was probably to rile him up and get a reaction out of him rather than innocently sharing moments of his day with him. The implication stirs that particular brand of annoyance that only Achilles can get out of him.

But another part of him is mournful for all the little moments Patroclus has missed from Achilles’ life. Travelling and brand collabs have been taking up an increasingly big chunk of his time it seems, and Patroclus has been there for none of it, has stubbornly never shown the slightest interest in it. Not that Achilles had shown any interest in his own work until yesterday, when he helped him with his presentation. But that’s more than he’s done in years. And Patroclus is still so grateful for that. He wants more of it.

“I don’t mind,” he tells him finally, after a short pause. “I’d still like to hear it. Anything you have to say.”

Achilles beams at him, his eyes lighting up with so much joy that it makes Patroclus ache. Any reservations he had about learning more about Achilles’ life evaporate as he listens to him talk about his work the last few months, the modelling gigs he’s been juggling on top of buckling down for his last round of exams. Patroclus smiles at that; if anyone can do all of those things and still ace his exams, it’s Achilles.

“...I even got an offer to work with this new online platform for musicians,” he says, as they’re walking down a quiet lane lined with baobab trees. “They somehow found out I used to play the violin and they asked me to advertise it on my page.”

“You didn’t just use to play the violin,” Patroclus chuckles, strangely delighted to hear about Achilles’ recent endeavours. “You placed first in the string competition in Vienna in eleventh grade. I’d be surprised if someone hadn’t dug that up.”

“Yeah, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Achilles grins at him. His entire countenance seems to be glowing in the amber sunset light. “We used to train for hours every day but it was worth it.”

“Phoenix had us practising those pieces for months. I can still see myself playing them in my sleep,” Patroclus groans.

“I still think we should have gone for a duet. Then we would have both won.”

Patroclus chuckles under his breath, ducking under a low hanging branch. Achilles had needled Phoenix for months to let them play together, but the old man would never relent. Patroclus was good for his level and for the work he put in, but he was never exceptional like Achilles; he wasn’t born a virtuoso. In the end, he had been disqualified at the finals, missing the third spot by a hair with his rendition of Chopin’s Mazurka in A Minor, while Achilles had swept the crowds away with Bach’s Sonata for Solo Violin No. 1 in G minor. As long as he lives, Patroclus will never forget how Achilles had walked on the stage, a slender boy of seventeen, and had held a massive concert hall captive while he played and for several moments after he’d finished; and then the audience had erupted in cheers and applause, tears standing in some of their eyes, including Patroclus’ own.

That has always been Achilles’ gift: changing things wherever he might be, down to their molecules. Shining so blindingly bright that the world around him can't help but be captivated by his light.

“I think perhaps it’s better that Phoenix never changed his mind,” Patroclus says. “I might have dragged you down with me because of some stupid mistake. Or I would have stolen your spotlight. We can’t have that.”

He says that with a smile, without envy or malice. A simple acknowledgment of facts, with a little bite of humour perhaps. But Achilles stops walking and turns to him, his features completely serious.

“You could never do that,” he says, very firmly. “You’ve never once dragged me into anything. Any mistakes I’ve made have been my own. As for the spotlight—there’s no other person I’d rather share it with, Pat. None.”

Once again, Patroclus stares at him, aghast. He doesn’t know where all this is coming from, why Achilles is speaking so seriously and earnestly all of a sudden. He has never known Achilles to lie to him—on the contrary, Achilles has always bluntly told him the truth even when it hurt—but hearing this from him now, after everything, makes it impossible to believe.

Another part of him though, the part that always ran back to Achilles after every heartbreak, that always yearned for him despite it all, wants desperately to believe him.

“You should start playing the violin again,” Patroclus says quietly, his voice thick with emotion he can’t quite hide. “You were always… so good at it.”

Achilles smiles, and the waning light falls so sweetly on his golden hair, his eyes, his beautiful skin. "You should take it up again too. Maybe one day we can play Handel’s Passacaglia together, like we always wanted.”

The fantasy is so potent, impossible to resist. He and Achilles playing together again, practising for hours every day just like they used to, the thrill after mastering a particularly difficult piece… Patroclus’ heart clenches with painful longing.

The path they're on is empty, and they’re shielded from view by the thick foliage. Before he knows it, Patroclus is stepping closer, reaching out to wrap his arm around Achilles' waist.

“I’d like that,” he whispers, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss. "I really would."

Achilles sighs, melting into him, pulling him close to kiss him deeper.

[memphisnovels]

Evermore

Chapter 14. Saw you in a dream

Previous chapter

Masterlist

Hi friends, apologies for the inconsistent uploads, things will get back on schedule after the next few weeks and it will be business as usual :))

pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC

warnings: big sisters Anna and Natasha, PTSD and trauma, Nadia totally isn't in denial, mentions of injuries.

I picked up my pace, pushing my body to move faster across the field. The sun bathed my flesh as I ran. Sweat beaded across my forehead but I ignored it, completing another lap around the compound. I’d decided to workout outside today, a decision which had nothing to do with the silver-haired Sokovian I’d spied venturing to the gym early this morning. I’d been training for the past few hours, cardio workout and then running laps. When my body was moving, I could avoid the things I didn’t want to deal with.

It wasn’t just the moment Pietro and I shared, Obolensky’s words had not left me. I’d laid awake in bed many nights since Moscow racking my brain, trying to understand. He wanted to live in our minds, to destroy us mentally, there was a real possibility that his questions about the ballet were nothing more than tactics to torture me. Yet, even with this in mind, the words would not leave me. There was this feeling deep within, something niggling and unyielding, something that called to me, begged me to look deeper.

“Are we gonna spend the whole day out here?” Natasha asked, shielding her eyes from the sun as she sat dropped down onto the grass.

I sighed exasperatedly, barely sparing her a glance. “It’s a beautiful day, the sun will be good for us.” I began a set of pushups.

“Oh right, so you’re definitely not just avoiding Pietro?”

“I am not avoiding him! I am… Jesus, can we not do this right now?”

She giggled, shaking her head at me. “Fine, we won’t but you owe me after this.”

I sat on the grass beside her, sipping from my water bottle. “What do you want?”

“Let’s go into the city, I need a break from Avengers business for a little while.” Laying out on the warm grass I stretched my limbs, laying my arm over my eyes to block the sun. “And by that, I mean I already booked us a hotel for Saturday night, a whole two-day away from the compound. That means we won’t have to get heat stroke just to avoid your boyfriend.”

The glare I sent her was vicious, it brought a grin to her face. I didn’t move from my position on the ground.

Natasha scoffed at me, moving to her feet and nodding toward the compound. “Are you coming or not?” She extended her hand out to me. The sound of a familiar Sokovian accent filled my ears. I accepted her hand swiftly, lurching to my feet.

“I want to talk to you about something,” I murmured as we reentered the compound. She glanced over at me, eyebrows slightly raised. “It’s about what we spoke about last week, what Obolensky said, the ballet thing.”

She nodded. “You think he was telling the truth?”

I shrugged. “He wanted to torture me but telling me the truth could be the best way to do that.” The look on Nat’s face was one I knew well, she did not need to say anything, there was an unspoken understanding between us. “It could be a lie to mix my head up, but if it’s not...”

“Okay.” She offered me a gentle smile then. “Let’s look into it. We’ll do it together.” She added, taking my hand slowly.

…

It was strange and almost beautiful the way the tree-dappled landscape transformed into skyscrapers, cars, and light pollution. I missed the city, it’s far too easy to breathe upstate, I longed for the smog. We had spoken to Tony before we left for the city. He said he had a plan, he said he’d work on it while Natasha and I were away, and we’d start operation: Swan Lake when we returned. I did not agree to that name.

The first item on the agenda was lunch, we’d stopped at a little, family-run restaurant that we’d frequented before relocating to the compound. The cheerful voice of Maria, one of the owners called our names as soon as we entered through the front doors. She was an elder woman whose face was lined with life experience, and I liked her quite a lot. Even when she insisted on hugging and kissing me each time, she greeted us. “I cannot believe you have finally come back! My, I think I’ll die and never see my favorite girls again.” She had a thick Italian accent that was immensely comforting to me. A basket of hot bread was placed in the center of our table the very moment we sat. “Oh my, Nadia, you are just devastating! You get more beautiful each time I see you.”

I shook my head at the woman who doted on me. “Oh, you are just trying to butter me up, so I order extra bread.” She laughed, kissing Natasha on the cheek before heading back toward the kitchen.

Everything seemed to move slower here, it was hard to explain, as though the moment you step through the doors into the candlelit restaurant you are transported into a sleepy town in Italy. The velvety music that played over the speakers easily covered the hustle and bustle of the city outside, the smell of basil and tomato lulling you into a serene kind of peacefulness that rids you of any negative thoughts.

We were halfway through lunch when Natasha finally asked me the question, I knew she’d been dying to. “So, I know that you know who is out of bounds for conversation but what about your love life in general?”

“What about it?”

“Well, how is it?”

I narrowed my eyes at her then. “How is yours, Natasha?”

“That’s mean.” I thawed slightly at the look in her eyes.

“Sorry.” A beat of silence passed between us. “How are you doing since… Banner went off the grid?”

She looked down at her plate, rubbing at the back of her neck. “Life goes on. Just getting through it I guess.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Is it easier for you to deal with it if you pretend it’s not happening?”

“As if you of all people are giving me crap about avoiding my problems.”

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “I see your point.”

“No way, Nadia Pimenova acknowledging defeat?” I rolled my eyes playfully at her words. There was silence for a moment as she fiddled with her cutlery. “It’s like he just… disappeared, dropped off the face of the earth. I know that he needs time to deal with his stuff, I completely get that, but it’s really hard to just stay put knowing that he’s out there somewhere all alone.”

She pushed a lettuce leaf around her plate, resting her head on her hand. I reached across the table, placing my hand adjacent to hers. “He’s going to be fine, Nat, he’ll come back.” She offered me a sheepish smile, unconvincing at best. “And if he doesn’t, we will go find him together.” Her expression shifted then, the look in her eyes was one that I understood, even if it wasn’t one, I could define.

She would stick by my side whilst I navigated the terrifying road that was my past and I would stick by hers whilst she navigated the equally terrifying prospect of the future. The truth was she’d never needed to thank me for keeping her secret when she defected from the Red Room, for me, there had been no other conceivable option but to lie for her. I would never have sold her out, even when she was gone, I would stick by her. She was the first person who’d ever made me feel like I was not alone in the world. I did not blame her for what she did because I understood it. Matron Katerina and all of the other officials would never have been able to get New York out of me, because it was the one thing they could not take, the one thing that was ours to keep.

I took in a deep breath when we were on the street once more. “What are you doing?” Natasha asked.

“This city smells like shit… I missed it so much.”

She laughed wholeheartedly at my sentiment, pulling me along to walk beside her. We ate bagels and drank copious amounts of coffee and walked for hours. I loved every second.

“I feel like I’m going to explode if I even breathe too much,” I whined into my phone.

Anna’s breathy laugh carried over the line. “Nonna Maria’s and bagels will do that to you.”

“When are you coming back to New York?”

“When are you going to come visit me?”

I sighed exasperatedly. “You know how I feel about London,” I responded teasingly. A bark sounded in the background. “Georgie…” I said wistfully causing Anna to laugh at me yet again.

“So, what else is happening in your life outside of the wonderful reunion with Obolensky?”

Nat offered me a cheeky look as she walked past my spot on the hotel couch. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare.” I spoke quietly to her.

I realized my mistake the moment Anna asked me what I was talking about.

“Nothing, Natasha is just being inappropriate.”

“What’s happened that you aren’t telling me?” Natasha’s loud laughter filled the room. I threw a cushion at her head, though she dodged it easily. “Nadia I swear if you don’t tell me now I’m going to come down there and force it out of you.”

I maintained that Natasha was losing her mind.

“You are a filthy little liar, Nads. Tell me!”

“Pietro kissed her,” Natasha said, hiding behind a cupboard, narrowly dodging another cushion to the head.

“идиот,” I shouted at her.

Idiot.

Anna gasped before laughter once again filled the line. “I cannot believe you weren’t going to tell me about that!”

“It was nothing! He is stupid and he should not have done it.”

“But you did kiss him back,” Nat added.

The glare I sent her was nothing short of lethal. “Oh, I so called this!” Anna piped up. “Didn’t I tell you that he was completely obsessed with you?”

“Jesus, it was a mistake, okay?! He should not have kissed me, and I had a momentary lapse in sanity and facilitated it. Why can we not just move on and pretend like it never happened?”

There was silence in the room for a moment. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding him? You’re hoping he’ll what? Forget that you two made out on the balcony?”

“There was no making out! It was one kiss and I’m avoiding him so that he’ll get the message that I am no longer facilitating anything of the sort.”

“That’s a very sound plan.” Sarcasm dripped from each syllable Anna spoke.

Nat whirled on me then, eyes wide with delight. “So, you admit you’re avoiding him!”

I shook my head, opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water. “This conversation is over! I have no interest in Pietro and he has no interest in me it was a heat of the moment decision that should have never happened and will never ever happen again!”

“Are you sure about that?”

I threw the final pillow from the couch at Nat.

“You’ve got a lot of anger in that little body! You know I can think of a really good outlet for that. He’s about 5’11 and brimming with boyish charm, something tells me he’d be more than happy for you to take it out on him.”

A chorus of laughter came from Natasha and Anna then.

“I am getting very sick of the sound of your voices. You are both delusional!” With that I abandoned my phone and the cackling redhead to collect myself in the bathroom. They were wrong, there was nothing between us, I was just overwhelmed it was the heat of the moment. I forced myself to stop thinking about the way his lips had felt, the way his breath had ghosted over my cheek, the look in his eyes. The sound of running water filled the room at I flicked the tap on, splashing the cold liquid onto my face.

Pietro had attempted to speak to me a minimum of 3 times a day since the night on the balcony. I’d done well in avoiding him so far. During training I’d tell him we could talk later and then I would simply find reasons not to be alone with him after. When I wasn’t avoiding him, I did my best to act completely unbothered by his presence, I was not as cold as I had been in the beginning, but I put forth an indifference toward him. I knew I couldn’t keep this up forever and though I told myself that I was just buying time to figure out what to say, I knew it wasn’t true. There was nothing much for me to say to him when I hadn’t the faintest idea what had prompted me to behave that way with him. It was baffling and the only explanation I’d managed to come up with was that I’d briefly been possessed by some demonic spirit who wanted to wreak havoc on my life. I suppose, truthfully, I was just hoping he’d forget about it before I actually had to face my moment of catastrophically poor judgement.

“Nads…”

“What,” I muttered into the darkness of the room.

A slight snort sounded. “Okay, grumpy.” There was silence for a long moment, the air shifted slightly, prompting me to bite back my next retort. “Do you ever feel like… I don’t know like a nonentity?”

“It is 1 a.m., Natasha.”

“I know, sorry. I’ve just been thinking a lot about the Red Room lately, I guess. It’s strange.” Her deep exhale was almost shaky. “When you first got out, I mean, did you feel like it was hard to rejoin normal life?”

Her question had me thinking back to that time, examining it for the first time in a long time. “There was no normal life for me… for a long time it didn’t really feel like there was even a me, not one that existed without the Red Room.”

“Right! I just feel like the second you’re out you're expected to assimilate, to be just like everyone else but I didn’t know how to do that. I’m not sure if I even do now, or if I’ve just become really good at faking it.”

“It’s been almost 10 years since I got out and there are times… so many times, when I look at other people and I’m not sure I’m ever going to be like that.” A heavy swallow allowed me to continue. “I don’t know who I was before it, it’s not easy to function like a normal human when the formative years you recall were spent learning ways to die most people couldn’t dream of.” 

Natasha was silenced momentarily by this. “I’m sorry if I’ve pushed you with the whole Pietro thing. I know it’s hard… believe me, I know.” I glanced toward her, unable to make out her face in the darkness. “What was done to us was monstrous. What was done to you… I only want you to be happy, I hate that you can’t let yourself be because of it.”

“I’m fine, Nat. Really.” I closed my eyes tightly for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I always am.”

“Because you’re a survivor.”

I rolled over, looking toward her bed. “I learned from the best.”

“It’s your choice, obviously, and you know I’ll have your back no matter what you decide, but I really don’t understand why you want to know whether what Obolensky said is true or not. I spend most of my time actively trying to forget the things that went on.”

It was complex. “What they did was monstrous… they took everything from us… maybe it will not be a pleasant memory, maybe there is nothing to remember, but I want to remember, I need to, Nat. This cannot be just another part of me that I do not get to hold on to.”

The room was lit only by the dim glow of streetlights I could hear the faint sound of traffic below us, petering out slightly at this time of night.

In that moment, everything felt just alright. Somehow, it was perfect.

…

My palms were sweating profusely as I sat in the chair, glancing at Natasha over my shoulder. “Still doing okay?” She asked. I nodded at her, closing my eyes for a moment as the headphones were places over my ears. The screen opened, a girl in covered in white tulle slipped onto the stage, moving stiffly to the classical music that echoed through my headphone. She was beautiful, graceful in a way that made it hard to look away, yet as I watched her, I felt nothing. No memories were sparked, there was nothing. It was the same time after time, for hours I sat and I watched, ballerina after ballerina danced across the stage and yet nothing changed for me. Hours passed me by while I sat there staring blankly at the screen as nothing occurred within my mind. Natasha stayed with me the whole time. At some point she placed a glass of water before me, yet I just continued to watch, never taking my eyes from the screen.

I was furious, how could I let him get to me like this, after all these years. Obolensky was just trying to torment me, and I’d let him. Rage simmered through my veins. I closed my eyes tightly, willing it to settle. Natasha had gone to find dinner some time ago now. I attempted to practice the techniques they used to tell us about in group, focus on one thing, breath into your belly. It didn’t work, I launched the now empty water glass at the wall, pacing back and forth. It was only when I felt the sharp slice of glass across my foot that I stopped. Glancing down, I saw blood smeared across the shards, crimson dripping coating my flesh. I took my seat once more, beginning to pick the smaller fragments from the ball of my foot. Bloody footprints followed me across the shiny floors as I wandered toward the med bay in search of a bandage. When I spotted a roll, I grabbed it and took it back to the room I’d been in, beginning to wrap my foot as one of the ballets came to an end.

I rested my head in my hands, closing my eyes again. That’s how I was positioned when the music began, it was beautiful, but it wasn’t the first time I’d heard it. I felt the sound travel across my shoulders, up my neck, and then back down again, along my spine inducing a shiver.

 ‘Corps de ballet of the State Academic Bolshoi Theatre presents Giselle.’

Those were the words I saw written across the screen when my eyes opened.

There were flashes of red and blue, white and tulle, over and over.

My back was pressed flush to cold metal. I could not move my head or my arms, my legs might have been numb, or maybe they were no longer there. I wasn’t sure. The music had filled my ears for so long that it seemed to have become a part of me, I could not remember where it ended and I began, had it played all my life; perhaps.

There was a ringing sound in my ears.

Giselle was on the stage then. The man she loved was engaged to another, he had lied to her and now she was dead. Then she wasn’t, she came back an apparition, cursed to dance with wanderers until the exhaustion took them to the grave. I thought the girl looked young and she was so sad.

When I blinked, I was back in the compound, my hands were in fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of my palms. My heart was thrumming against my sternum and every muscle in my body was strung tightly. I swallowed heavily, blinking and once again I was transported. Gasping breaths, and cries, that was what filled my ears then, but it was only for a second before it was gone. With a blink there was a man before me tightening binds over my body, placing something over my eyes, another blink and it was gone.

“Nadia?”

I yanked against my binds. The room was white, I think but really, I couldn’t remember. The straps were chaffing against my wrists from how much I’d pulled at them.

“Nadia.”

Again, and again my name was called but I couldn’t tell from where it originated. I gritted my teeth, squaring my shoulders and shutting my eyes, attempting to ground myself; to return to my body. The music was still playing, though it was almost as if I were listening to it underwater. A group of dancers entered the darkened stage, each wearing long white dresses. The man was back, he bent down and peered at me through large, black-framed glasses. I did not recognize him, nor did I recognize this place, this was not the Red Room. I’d never been here before, yet here I was now. The man was speaking, I could hear his voice, but I did not know what he was saying. It was all garbled and muddled. I couldn’t move any part of my body, strapped so tightly to the metal beneath me. I thought there might be tears in my eyes then.

My name was called again. I strained, attempting to find the voice, to come back. The bespectacled man leaned in again, reaching out toward me, a shining needle in his hand. I flinched away from it, but he took ahold of my face. The gentle touch confused me, but when I opened my eyes again, I understood. I was back in the compound, chest rising and falling rapidly, my arms were pressed to the chair, but I was not bound. My eyes danced across the man before me, dark hair and matching eyes.

“Just breathe.”

I was gone again then, but not to the table where I had been bound. I was on the street. There were buildings and some trees planted around the sidewalk. Brick apartment complexes and fire escape lined walls. New York? The breeze tousled my hair slightly, but it barely moved, when I looked down, I saw… plaits, hanging from either side of my head. The sun kissed my cheeks, peeking through the leaves of trees, seeking me out. A voice called down the street, but I did not understand what the person had said. When I looked up, I only saw his back. A young boy walked ahead of me, he wore a dark red backpack with a little key ring hanging from the zip, I couldn’t make it out. I began forward, attempting to catch up with the boy, I reached out toward him when I was less than a pace away, my hand almost making contact with his bag when a voice cut echoed through my mind.

“Nadia, are you still with me?” Tony asked, I could feel the warmth of his hands over my wrists, willing me to come back.

I did. My head was spinning, and I felt unwell. I blinked a few times, but I stayed put, my mind seemingly tethering itself back to my body. Looking around the room I found it the same as it had been before, glass still shattered on the floor. I met Tony’s eyes. Just past him stood Natasha in the doorway with an exceptionally concerned expression.

“He wasn’t lying.” When I spoke, my voice did not sound like me, shaky and wrecked.

For the first time in days, I was in a rush to go train. Natasha and Tony followed behind me with concerned expressions, saying that they wanted to debrief first, they wanted to know what I’d seen. I didn’t really know how to tell them when truthfully, I did not really understand what I’d seen. A jumble of moments that seem completely disjointed and entirely unfamiliar to me. I wanted out of the stuffy room, I needed to move my body, to hit something; to feel something other than the trembling, cold that burrowed into my bones when I thought about the man in the glasses.

After an icy shower, I was straight into the gym, gesturing for Pietro to follow. “We’re sparring,” I said before he had a chance to speak, my tone leaving no room for argument.

I dodged the jab he threw at me, slipping beneath his arm to move behind him, giving him a few slight pointers as we sparred but offering nothing beyond that. There were no taunting remarks from me or mildly flirtatious commentaries from him, it was making my skin crawl, this strange dynamic that we’d fallen into. Particularly now when all I wanted was to focus on something other than the jarring images I’d just endured.

I stretched my arms above my head, cracking my neck before we moved to the punching bag. With a gesture, I told him to begin. His jaw was tense as he began, his stance was perfect as were each of his punches. I wandered around the bag, my eyes trailing over his form. Then he changed his pattern, sending a kick to the bag… with his foot. He sent a glance my way then, eyebrows raised slightly. “Shin, remember how I showed you,” I muttered, attempting to keep my voice nonchalant.

“That’s it!” He exclaimed suddenly, throwing his hands in the air. “I can take no more of this.” I watched him with furrowed eyebrows, not entirely surprised by his outburst and, frankly, feeling slightly relieved at the forced shift in my focus. “How can I make it better? Just tell me what to do to fix things, Nadia.”

I asked him what he meant.

“I preferred it when you acted like you hated me because at least I understood what you were feeling.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. “What did I do wrong here?”

A heavy, sickly feeling pooled in my stomach. The same one that had filled me on the balcony when the hurt had flashed across his expression. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” A little truth, I supposed I owed him that much. “You did nothing wrong, Pietro.”

“We cannot continue like this. I won’t.”  He said, crossing his arms over his chest, he took a step toward me.

“Let’s just forget it ever happened.”

His eyes met mine then, an unreadable expression on his face. “That’s what you want?”

I nodded, once, firm. “I will be your friend, and we will forget about all the other stuff.”

“Friends?”

I nodded again. He mirrored my action, wringing his hands together slightly. “Oh, and don’t ever kick with your fucking foot again.”

[nancysandoval]

NANCY SANDOVAL ( 30. CIS WOMAN. SHE/HER ) is here! They’ve lived in Asbury Park for 3 MONTHS and are originally from NEW YORK CITY, NY. They are UNEMPLOYED and in their downtime love GIVING SHITTY LIFE ADVICE and PULLING THE FIVE-FINGER DISCOUNT. They look a lot like MAIKA MONROE and live at MEADOWLARK APARTMENTS. The song that makes people think of them the most is RAGE BY RICO NASTY.

THE BASICS:

FULL NAME: nancy elizabeth sandoval, née wright

NICKNAMES: nan, nance

GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis woman & she/her

AGE & BIRTHDAY: 30 & july 12, 1994

ZODIAC: ☼ cancer ☾ leo ↑ aries

BIRTHPLACE: carson city, nv

MBTI & ALIGNMENT: enfp & true neutral

+ TRAITS: headstrong, spontaneous, creative, flirtatious

- TRAITS: hedonistic, fickle, manipulative, pessimistic

RESIDENCE: meadowlark apartments

OCCUPATION: broke bitch :( - hit up her depop pls !!!!

LINKS: pinterest / playlist / tasks

BACKGROUND & DETAILS:

surface level: nancy is very messy, sometimes rude, and often nude

deep down: ......... that’s still pretty much accurate lmao

born in nevada, her parents met thanks to a chance encounter while her mom was researching for an upcoming book. nancy was an unexpected surprise in their lives, but fast-forward 5 years and they were sealing the deal, getting hitched in nyc where her mom had the gaudy, mega wedding of her dreams.

photographic evidence of nancy being an angelic flower girl DOES in fact exist

and, as her mother would say, "thank god it does, because you haven't been sweet since."

nancy's formative years were a blur of questionable choices and dangerous stunts, running amok in the streets of new york on her parents' dime and never once considering the consequences. attempts were made to rein her in; freezing credit cards, grounding her (lol), and making hollow threats of sending her away to bootcamp or boarding school.

nothing stuck. over and over, nancy ran to her dad for an easy bailout and extra cash, fueling the growing rift between her parents as they argued about her future.

for real the anthem of her teen years

she hurt herself, she fell in with the wrong crowds, she found drugs and lost her mind a little. an addiction to pills spiraled and worsened, graduating to cheaper and quicker highs as time went on. it was a miracle that she ever graduated high school, see-sawing between sobriety and oblivion while treating rehab like a casual hotel stay, but her mom made sure it happened.

this carried on into her twenties. living under her mother's thumb was not fun. even in a high-rise penthouse with zero "real world" concerns, nancy felt like she was choking on her short leash. no booze, no visitors, no privacy from her parents - what was the point in living?? she tried to keep busy by half-assing therapy sessions, taking up yoga, and delving deep into the world of online academia (just to rack up a bill for the 'rents), but eventually she snapped.

nancy packed her shit and ran away to california. she settled in silver lake, living there for a good three years, but an attempted career in food service had her backsliding into addictive habits. eventually, she checked herself into an in-patient facility with a promise from her dad that he'd be there to congratulate her when the 3 month stay ended.

.... and he was......... but so was his hot young girlfriend that nancy had regular fantasies about bludgeoning to death.

she threw the tantrum of the century, only resurfacing from her rage blackout when she'd driven halfway to new york by herself, and car trouble stranded her in colorado. feeling reckless and spiteful (and just a tiny bit terrified of turning 30), nancy did the most insane thing she could think of - and got married to a guy that she met at a gas station.

okay, she got to know him first...... sort of. enough to find out that his name was cooper sandoval and decide that she could live with that last name, too. sadly, it didn't last. their honeymoon phase inevitably wore off, nancy turned 30 and didn't wake up an old hag, so the most sensible thing to do was call it quits.

it was the dual incompetence of cooper and his family's lawyer that had nancy gunning it to jersey, having to sort through the legalities in person to end their less-than-a-year marriage. and once everything was signed and dotted, she just... didn't leave. she's near enough to nyc now that her mom can visit whenever she gets the itch to be overbearing, and hey! nancy was always a big fan of snooki, so jersey can't be all bad, right?

she's still lowkey desperate to prove her independence (to herself, to her parents, to the world), but she's not totally opposed to roommates or longtime houseguests!!

always picking up random hobbies to keep her hands & mind busy, though they rarely last. her latest kick has been tie-dyeing and bleaching old clothes, so best believe that her place reeks atm

loves to claim that she's a child of divorce when her parents legit split up after she was well into her 20s, but whatevaaahhh

she's hugely into high fantasy & horror - the gorier the better

probably has some fucked up (meaning: bad) hellraiser tattoos

has a knack for ruining relationships, even ones that aren't hers <3

smokes 24/7. even if she doesn't have a cigarette in hand, rest assured that she's mentally taking a drag

POTENTIAL CONNECTIONS:

first and foremost, i love vibin’ off dash chem 💖 plz feel free to hmu at anytime for a completely random thread and i’ll jump!

neighbors  -  anyone else living at meadowlark apartments! nancy is really a terrible and noisy neighbor so yah, count me in for dumb vendettas

friends  -  THE most important connection okok. she’s been in town for ~3mo, which isn't all that long, but nancy's social ass would chat up anyone anywhere there's alcohol avail

work weirdness - nancy's currently unemployed and (kinda) looking for the work, so i wouldn't mind her already having a couple failed job interviews under her belt - or! someone who maybe put in a good word for her somewhere

one night stand / fwb / etc.  -  nancy’s a hoor so yakno.... can be something antagonistic too! luv the idea of a hook-up gone wrong ngl

fellow addicts  -  “recovered” or not. she doesn’t go often, but now and then nancy finds comfort in going to the occasional aa / na meeting. can’t get enough of listening to middle-aged men detail how they ruined their lives - really makes a girl feel good about her own shitty choices 💕

a mentor / unlikely friend  -  idk exactly what i mean by this lmfao, but i’m imagining someone older (or honestly, her age & just more settled) who does not run in the same circles in the slightest, but something just Clicks between them. a good influence really

a square  -  flipside of the last idea: someone nancy gets to corrupt <3

[sgiandubh]

Sunday sounds: Third Advent Gaudete Sunday - Joy

This severely traffic jammed Sunday may be plagued with hustle, bustle and the final scramble to Christmas, but it is time to light the pink Shepherds' Candle.

These Most Humble of Them All were also the first to be told something that forever changed our hearts and minds, and immediately sent them on the road to Bethlehem:

'And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.' (Luke,  2:10-12).

Despite and sometimes even against anything else, this Sunday is about an overwhelming, definitive feeling of Joy:

We do not need complicated words to describe what we think or feel on this particular day. This is why, and rather uncharacteristically, I have chosen John Rutter's deceptively simple and modern tune. It closely resonates with John Betjeman's Christmas poem - and I could never resist Betjeman:

The bells of waiting Advent ring, The Tortoise stove is lit again And lamp-oil light across the night Has caught the streaks of winter rain In many a stained-glass window sheen From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.

The holly in the windy hedge And round the Manor House the yew Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge, The altar, font and arch and pew, So that the villagers can say 'The church looks nice' on Christmas Day.

Provincial Public Houses blaze, Corporation tramcars clang, On lighted tenements I gaze, Where paper decorations hang, And bunting in the red Town Hall Says 'Merry Christmas to you all'.

And London shops on Christmas Eve Are strung with silver bells and flowers As hurrying clerks the City leave To pigeon-haunted classic towers, And marbled clouds go scudding by The many-steepled London sky.

And girls in slacks remember Dad, And oafish louts remember Mum, And sleepless children's hearts are glad. And Christmas-morning bells say 'Come!' Even to shining ones who dwell Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.

And is it true?  And is it true, This most tremendous tale of all, Seen in a stained-glass window's hue, A Baby in an ox's stall ? The Maker of the stars and sea Become a Child on earth for me ?

And is it true ?  For if it is, No loving fingers tying strings Around those tissued fripperies, The sweet and silly Christmas things, Bath salts and inexpensive scent And hideous tie so kindly meant,

No love that in a family dwells, No carolling in frosty air, Nor all the steeple-shaking bells Can with this single Truth compare - That God was man in Palestine And lives today in Bread and Wine.