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What Was I Made For?

09: Begin Again

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Charles POV, start of the redemption arc!, flashbacks are in italics

a/n: I'm back!!! I have to say that the past weekend didn't go how it was planned, but at least I had so much fun...

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

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“Dafne!”

I flinched when I heard her slamming the front door, making me swallow thickly while I looked at the clock hanging in the wall of the kitchen.

Two in the morning. 

It's two in the morning and she left to God knows where, with winter weather outside and with clothes that couldn't keep her warm.

“Fuck, fuck!” 

I ran upstairs to grab warm clothes for myself and then to her room to grab something warmer. Her cat was laying on her bed, completely unaware of what was happening. But as I walked in and opened the wardrobe to find a coat and a scarf, I felt the little head rubbing my leg.

“I'll bring her back” I mumble looking down at the cat, swallowing thickly when it looked at me with those big blue eyes.

I rushed downstairs, grabbing the keys of the house and searching the keys of my car in the pockets of my coat.

“Come on, think…” I spoke to myself, getting in the car and turning the engine on. “Think, think, think…”

I groan, driving through the road, away from the house, trying to remember somewhere she could go to be alone.

It was a hot summer. My brothers and I went to the Morelli’s grandmother villa in Tuscany while our parents had to stay at home for work. That year I lost the championship of karting because of her and somehow I felt frustrated. 

I needed to show her that I was better. I don't care if she won against me.

“Let's see who gets to the top first” I smirked looking at her pointing at the top of the tree. “The first that arrives is the winner”

“It's dangerous!” she gasped.

“So? Are you that scary?” I scoffed, looking at how she was looking between me and the tree. “Come on, are you a cry baby?”

“Shut up!” she groaned, stepping closer to the tree and starting to climb it.

 I watched her, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and something else I couldn't quite name. The tree was more challenging than it looked, with slippery bark and breakable branches.

About halfway up, she grabbed a thorny branch and cried out, losing her grip. I watched in horror as she fell to the ground, gasping when I saw her falling on her ankle.

She kneeled on the ground, pressing her hand against her mouth, trying to not let out sobs. I swallowed thickly, taking slow steps towards her, but before I could say her name, she stood up and pushed me to the ground, running away from me.

“Dafne, wait!” I called her, but she didn't stop.

I felt guilt twist in my stomach. I hadn't meant for her to get hurt. Panic set in as I realized I had lost sight of her. The woods were dense and disorienting, but somehow I knew where she would go. There was a little house by the river, a place we both knew well but never acknowledged to each other.

I made my way to the house and found her at the edge of the river, with her foot on the water. She had stopped crying, but the pain was evident on her face. She didn't see me watching her from behind a tree, and I took a moment to gather myself. Seeing her hurt made something tighten in my chest, a feeling I wasn't used to.

"Dafne," I said softly, hoping not to startle her. “I’m really sorry. Can I help?”

“Go away” she mumbled, not looking at me. “I don't want to see you”

I sighed and sat on the ground with my back against the tree, keeping an eye on her. What if her ankle gets more swollen? I should do something, right? It's my fault she got injured. What if it gets worse?

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over everything, I waited. Finally, she looked back at me, searching me with her eyes. Her face was a mixture of defiance and pain, but she didn’t look as angry as I had feared.

“I think it's broken” she mumbled, looking at her hand. “It's your fault”

“I know” I nodded, standing up and walking towards her, kneeling in front of her. “Let's go home”

I clenched my jaw, holding tight that memory and praying that she went there. I tried to remember the way towards that river, driving the car through the moody roads and looking around to try to catch a glance of her.

When I found the tree that was near the river I swallowed thickly, stopping the car and grabbing my phone to turn on the light, getting out of the car. If she's not there I don't know what I would do.

“Dafne?” I called her, trying to make my eyes get used to the dark, moving my phone around. 

I sighed in relief when I saw her figure sitting on the ground next to a tree, with the blanket she was wearing wrapped around her. But that didn't stop her from sniffling because of the cold night.

“Go away”

I smiled weakly, closing my eyes and shaking my head. It's happening exactly like the last time I saw her here.

“I won't” I sighed, going back to the car and grabbing her coat and scarf. “And get used to it”

“Why?” she mumbled. “Just, why? Why now? Why are you caring now?”

“I always cared, Dafne” I sighed, wrapping the scarf around her neck and putting the coat on her shoulders. “But I tried my best for you to not see it”

“Well, you were damn good at it” she sighed, looking away from me. 

“Can we please fix this?” I sighed sitting next to her. “Not only for us… But for our families and our baby”

“I never wanted this, Charles” she whispered. “It's so unfair. If only…”

“I was sick” I interrupted her.

“What?”

“The summer we met” I sighed. “The first time you told me you hated me… I was sick. I didn't throw up because you kissed me. I had a terrible stomach ache and it just happened…”

She sighed and rested her head on the trunk of the tree, taking a deep breath. Her hands were on her belly, protecting the little baby she's carrying. Our baby, my baby.

“But you just ran away…” I sighed. “You always run away when things get complicated”

“I guess it's easier than facing the problems” she sighed. 

“That's so cowardly coming from you” I said. 

She looked at me frowning, somehow moving away from me before I grabbed her arm. I shook my head and looked at her.

“This time I won't let you run away” I said. “Neither let you push me away, like you did with Sebastian”

“It was the best for him” she mumbled looking away, moving her arm away from my grasp. “I couldn't give him what he wanted”

“And what did he want? To settle down?” I frowned, clenching my jaw.

“Exactly” she laughed sadly. “When the doctor told us I was pregnant, he started talking about buying a house and taking care of this child. He thought it was his baby. Even if I was so happy with him, I couldn't lie to him, acting like it was his kid. It wouldn't be fair to him”

“He was the one that made me understand my feelings” I sighed, smiling weakly. “He was the one that made me realize that even if I'm twenty seven years old I still act like a kid around you, trying to get your attention”

She didn't say anything, just hugged herself tighter. I wish she would let me hold her. I wish we could fix our problems. I wish, I wish, I wish…

“One chance” she whispered. “I’ll give you only one chance. If you fuck up, I want you away from me and the baby. I don't care if it's yours, if you hurt me again I'll make sure you don't even know the name. I'm so tired of fighting”

My breath hitched in my throat, surprised by her decision. I simply nodded, sighing with relief.

“Let's go home” I whispered, getting up and offering her my hand to help her to get up. 

When I felt her hand on mine I took a deep breath, pulling her to me and following her movements with my eyes. She was still protecting her belly with a hand, like she wanted to keep it for her, to protect her secret.

“C-can I?” I whisper looking at her stomach.

She took a deep breath and a step back, shaking her head slowly.

“Not yet…” she mumbled. “I don't trust you, yet”

I nodded, hurt. But I understood. I have to fix more than I thought, but I won't give up.

The next morning I woke up with her sneezes and a cold nose poking my cheek. 

I sighed, opening my eyes slowly to find her cat's face right in front of mine. I moved slowly, looking at the cat. It started purring and meowing, somehow nervously.

“What happened?” I sighed, yawning.

I saw the white cat jump out of the bed and walk out of the room, then coming back looking at me. I sighed, grabbing a hoodie and putting it on while I followed the cat towards Dafne's room.

“What…?” I frowned.

I opened the door,.sighing when I saw her there sleeping. I bite my lip, looking at her. She really is wonderful, and somehow now, knowing that she's pregnant, looks even more beautiful than before.

I heard her groaning and sneezing again, making me frown and take a step closer to her bed. 

“Hey, are you okay?” I whisper, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Sshh…” she groaned.

I swallowed thickly, moving my hand to press it on her forehead and gasping when I felt it warm.

“You are burning up” I whispered, feeling immediately worried. 

She groaned, barely opening her eyes and not caring to move my had away from her forehead. 

“I'm fine” she mumbled, but I could tell she wasn't.

“Stay here, okay?” I sighed, getting up from the bed and rubbing her cat's head, smiling at it. “I'll take care of you”

She tried to wave me off, but I was determined. I stood up and headed to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in cold water. When I returned, I gently placed it on her forehead, removing the hair wet from the sweat. She flinched at the touch but didn’t push me away, sighing with relief the moment she felt the cold against her skin.

“I’ll make you some tea” I said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Just rest.”

She nodded slowly, coughing and sniffling softly. Her cat curled into her side, somehow trying to give her some warmth.

I went downstairs to the kitchen to make her something for breakfast. I know she likes having English tea around, since she's half English, so maybe I could find some of it in the cupboards.

“Bingo” I smiled, finding a few boxes of tea.

I sighed, grabbing the first one I found and boiled some water while I grabbed some crackers for her. I grabbed my phone, searched about the medicines she can take and searching them on the bathroom. 

“I’m back” I said softly, walking inside of her room and placing the plate and a mug on the nightstand.

“Did you make tea?” she whispered. “Thank you…”

“You have to stay hydrated” I sighed, looking at the screen of my phone. “And I have to change the cloth of your forehead a few more times. And forget about that blanket, you need to make the fever go down”

“Wow, what are you now, my doctor?” she mumbled, and somehow I felt relieved noticing that her humor was still there even if she was sick.

“I want you to be okay, as well” I sighed. “Did you go to the doctor to do check ups of the pregnancy?”

“No” she groaned.

I sighed and nodded, grabbing my phone. The internet said she should go soon to do the checkups and to see how the baby is growing.

“Do you want me to call? I can go to the village and see if I can find a doctor” I said but she interrupted me with a groan.

“Can you please shut up? Your voice is giving me a headache” she exclaimed.

I sighed and nodded, looking away, watching her cat laying next to her with the head on her belly. 

I wish she could let me touch her. But I have to accept that maybe that will never happen.

I stayed silent for a moment, letting her words sink in. I wanted to help, but I knew pushing her too much right now wouldn't do any good. I needed to show her that I could be there for her, even if it meant giving her space.

"Okay, I'll be quiet" I whispered, grabbing the washcloth from her forehead to wet it again in the bathroom. 

She sighed, closing her eyes as I placed the cool cloth back on her skin, flinching slightly. Her body relaxed quickly and her lips opened a little leaving a long relieved sigh.

"Try to drink some tea" I murmured softly, guiding the mug to her lips. She took a few sips, her expression softening slightly. "And eat some crackers. It'll help"

“You made my favorite” she gasped softly, looking at the mug, taking another sip of it and humming as she swallowed it.

“I guessed it right, then” I nodded, smiling. “I’ll go later to the village to buy some more”

“You can’t, those are only in the Twinings store in London” she sighed. “Believe me, I tried to find them everywhere I go”

“Noted” I nodded.

She nodded weakly, nibbling on a cracker before settling back into the pillows. I watched her, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety. I wanted to take care of her, to make things right, but I knew it would take time.

As the morning wore on, I stayed by her side, changing the washcloth and making sure she drank enough fluids. I grabbed my laptop and earphones and watched something to distract myself while she slept. Her cat, sensing the tension, curled up beside her, offering its silent support.

"I never expected you to be here" she mumbled at one point, her voice barely above a whisper, making me stop the movie I was watching. "Not after everything”

"I never expected it either," I admitted, looking into her tired eyes. "At first I went to your parents’ house to see if you were there, but Erica told me you were here… I guess I didn’t expect you to be…”

“Pregnant?” she sighed.

“Y-yeah” I sighed. “But I’ll stay. I don’t care how many times you’ll try to push me away. I’ll stay”

She didn't respond, but she didn't push me away either. That was progress, I told myself. Small steps

Later in the afternoon, Dafne’s fever had come down slightly, but she still looked exhausted. I tried to keep the atmosphere light, occasionally cracking a joke or two, though they were met with weak smiles or groans. Her cat, a constant presence by her side, provided her comfort, and I found myself grateful for the animal.

"Do you need anything else?" I asked softly, placing a fresh washcloth on her forehead.

"No... just stay" she mumbled, her voice trailing off. “Until I sleep again”

My heart ached at her vulnerability. This was a side of her I never saw, and it made me realize just how much pain I gave her, how little I know her. I nodded, even though her eyes were closed, and settled on the empty side of her bed.

Time seemed to blur. I must have dozed off at some point because when I opened my eyes, the room was darker, the only light coming from the late afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. Dafne was still asleep, her breathing more even now. Her cat was curled up next to her face, purring softly.

I stood up, stretching my back and neck, and quietly made my way to the kitchen. I needed to prepare something for her to eat when she woke up,  some soup would help her feel better. 

As I searched through the counter and fridge, I found some ingredients to make a simple chicken soup. The familiar actions of chopping vegetables and filling the pot with water gave me a strange sense of peace, a small sense of normalcy after today.

As the soup cooked, I found myself lost in thought. How had we gotten here? Dafne and I had always had a complicated relationship, full of competition and unspoken emotions, hate and rivalry. How could I let something like this happen? I went too far. But now I can’t back up, I have to be here for her and our baby.

I glanced at my phone, considering calling my mother and brothers to update them, but decided against it. This was something Dafne and I needed to figure out first. Besides, I didn’t want to overwhelm her with any more information or expectations than she was already dealing with.

When the soup was ready, I poured some into a bowl and carried it upstairs. Dafne was awake, sitting up in bed and looking a bit more alert.

"Hey," I said softly, entering the room. "I made you some soup"

"You cooked?" she asked surprised, looking at me.

“Don’t act so shocked, I can handle the basic meals” I chuckled softly. “Plus, this is the recipe your grandma taught all of us”

“Oh… Thank you, Charles” she smiled faintly. This is the first time I’d seen her smile at me.

I helped her sit up more comfortably, placing more pillows on her back, and handed her the bowl. She took a tentative sip, then another, her expression softening and humming softly with her eyes closed.

“Just like nonna’s” she whispered.

We sat in silence for a while, her eating slowly and me just being there, present in the moment. It was a small step, but it felt significant.

"Dafne," I began after a while. "I know things are complicated, and we've both made mistakes in the past. But I want to be here for you and the baby. I want to make things right. I want us to begin again"

She looked at me, her eyes searching mine for sincerity. I saw the doubt in her blue eyes, the internal battle she had in her mind. 

"I want to believe you, Charles. I really do. But it’s going to take time…” she mumbled, looking down at her growing belly. “You caused me so much pain, and a simple gesture like taking care of me while being sick won’t make me forget it…”

"I understand," I nodded, my voice steady "But I'm not going anywhere. I’ll prove to you that I can change, That… That I’m that kid you met in Greece, the one you kissed"

As she finished the soup and settled back into bed, I felt a tentative hope.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way through this together. It wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time in a long while, I felt like we had a chance.

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[imsosorrys-posts]

Summer Wine - Chapter One

Pairing: Peter Pevensie x Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, swearing, modern au

Summary: After graduating University you deciee to stay with your best friends family for a little while. Even in the warmest of summers, dark secrets and echoes of the past linger. An evil prophecy comes to pass.

Words: 1.5k

A/N: Happy New Year! Hope everyone has a good one, hope you like this first part! 🧚‍♀️

Chapter One

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

You’d had strange dreams all your life, dreams about a forest encased in snow, and dark magical beasts that dwelled within. They weren’t happy dreams. From these dreams you woke up screaming but your parents said they weren’t real, just a figment of your imagination. You’d never told anyone about your dreams, not even your best friend who you trusted with your life.

The woods were dark and unwelcome, shadows covering your path as you traipsed through the trees. You blocked out the jeering as you reached the fire. When the red hot iron was pressed against your forearm you didn’t scream though the pain was unimaginable. You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

When you woke with a start, you were in the car with Peter, just like you always had been. He glanced over at you as he pulled up outside the ivy covered house.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, rubbing your eyes as you blinked up at the country manor, “this place is insane,” you commented.

Peter flushed almost as if he was embarrassed and he turned the engine off, “yeah, I know,” he ran a hand through his golden waves, “our godfather left us this place in his will.”

He stood out onto the gravel and you followed suit, walking into the enormous house, “anyone here?” Peter called out as you both stepped into the hall.

It was all dark wood and wooden flooring with chandeliers bolted to the high ceiling. It was clear that the house hadn’t been updated in a while but you thought it had character. At Peter’s call, two girls came out of the room on the left, you recognised them instantly as his two younger sisters, Susan and Lucy.

“Y/N! Good to see you again,” Susan grinned as she pulled you into a hug.

“And you,” you smiled.

Lucy shyly waved at you from behind her older sister. No matter how many times you’d met the youngest Pevensie, she was always shy at first.

“I don’t know why she’s so shy,” Susan laughed, “she hasn’t shut up since we heard you were coming to stay,” Lucy flushed at her sister’s words.

“Where’s Edmund?” you asked after the fourth sibling.

Peter rolled his eyes, “off being a prick somewhere, probably.”

“Peter!” his mum, Helen scolded him as she came downstairs, “Lucy, go and get your brother, will you?”

Lucy made a face but went to get Edmund all the same.

“Y/N, dear! So lovely to see you,” she cupped your cheeks, ignoring Peter’s disgruntled gasps that she’d greeted you first.

“It’s nice to see you too, thank you for letting me stay.”

“It’s no trouble at all, plenty of space,” she smiled before she began fussing over her oldest son, complaining that his hair had got too long.

By this time, Edmund had walked out into the hall and gave you a warm hug, greeting you as he did so.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Peter started when you and Ed pulled away from each other, “I’ll show you where you’re sleeping,” the both of you traipsed up the carpeted stairs, the other siblings not far behind.

The Pevensies had only just inherited the house so a lot of the spare rooms had been either closed off or used for storage. That meant you’d be staying with Peter but you didn’t mind. The room was spacious, even with two beds. Peter’s side had been decorated with football posters and your side of the room was bare, apart from a huge oak wardrobe.

“We didn’t have the heart to get rid of it,” Peter explained as you put your suitcase on the bed and walked over to the wardrobe, running your fingers over the carvings that had been etched into the wood, “we used to play in it all the time when we were kids.”

“It’s beautiful,” you traced the Latin, “’courage, dear heart,’” you translated. The silence was deafening and you glanced over your shoulder to see all four Pevensies staring at you with their mouths agape, “what?” you laughed, “I did Latin at school.”

It was Peter who came down to Earth first, “come on, leave us alone so we can get unpacked!” he began pushing his siblings out of the room before closing the door after them. You laughed, shaking your head as you began to unpack.

“I really appreciate you letting me stay,” you said to Peter as you began hanging up your clothes.

A sheepish smile immediately fell over his handsome face and he shrugged nonchalantly, “it’s not a problem. I couldn’t have left you in London.”

He could have but he never would have. Everyone who didn’t know Peter, thought he was pompous but really he was the kindest man ever. You looked out at the rolling fields beyond the house with a smile. The air was fresh here, you could already feel the benefit of it.

“I really like it here.”

Peter nodded, scratching the back of his neck – he got shy at the strangest times – and looked around the room to find something to change the subject. His blue eyes fell on your open suitcase and he raised an eyebrow in interest.

“Hey! These are really good!” he picked out one of your drawings.

You flushed as you walked over to stand next to him, looking down at the rough drafts of the satyrs and nymphs, “thanks! A company in London commissioned me to do a couple of illustrations for some kids book on Greek Mythology.”

Peter gently put the drawings down and it looked as though he was about to say something further. He was interrupted by Lucy knocking on the door, gently pushing it open.

“Mum says dinner’s ready, we’re having it in the garden,” you and Peter followed his sister out into the warm garden.

It was beautiful out here, Helen had set up a marquee with a spread of buffet food on a table beneath it. The garden stretched on for miles, flowers growing in every inch of the garden, even at the bank of the trickling stream that flowed through.

As soon as you walked beneath the marquee, Peter’s dad, Christopher handed you a glass of wine. You thanked him with a smile as you took the glass and took a sip, it was deliciously sweet and tart. Lucy heaved a great sigh as she hung around her father, clearly hoping to be allowed a glass. Christopher tutted, clearly softened up by his daughter’s pouting as he poured her half a glass.

“Make this last, it’s all you’re getting.”

You giggled as you walked over to join Edmund, “as soon the weather gets above freezing with a bit of sun, it’s time for ‘picky bits in the garden,” Edmund laughed as he stuffed a mini sausage roll into his mouth.

“British Tapas,” you added, making him snort.

“How are things going, Y/N?” Christopher asked as Peter passed you a cracker with some garlic cheese smeared over it.

Before you could answer, Peter spoke up for you, “she’s been commissioned to do a couple of Greek illustrations for a kid’s book!” he slung an arm over your shoulder, making you flush and you took a bite of the cracker so you didn’t say something stupid.

“Oh! That’s wonderful, Edmund used to draw a lot, didn’t you?” Helen said, “you used to draw that fantasy world that you all made up. Gosh, what was it called?” she thought for a second, “oh, that’s it, it was Narnia!”

You’d never heard of such a place.

The four Pevensies looked at their mum, their faces white like they’d seen a ghost, “we told you about Narnia?” Susan asked.

Helen shook her head, “no, but you weren’t very good at keeping your discussions private.”

You thought it was cute that they’d made up a fantasy world when they were kids but they looked sad rather than embarrassed. Christopher sensed the change in atmosphere so he nodded over at Peter.

“As the oldest, you’re tasked with looking after the Antique shop while your mother and I go away.”

“Oh, dad!” Peter groaned.

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder, “oh, cheer up grumpy. I’ll do it with you.”

As soon as the sky grew dark, you and Peter decided to go to bed, you wanted to go to bed at a reasonable time after your long drive today. You said goodnight to everyone before going upstairs and getting ready for bed.

There was silence in the room before you spoke up, “it’s so cute that you and the others made up a fantasy world when you were kids.”

“Y/N, can we not?” he sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me about it? What was Narnia like?” you asked.

“Y/N, I really don’t want to talk about it,” his voice was soft and kind but you knew that it was time to change the subject, you didn’t want to keep pushing it.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” there was silence for a few more minutes before Peter spoke up again, “you don’t have to help me in the shop y’know.”

“Don’t you want me to?”

There was a pause before he answered, “no, I um I want you to. Just wanted you to know that you don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Okay,” he whispered before there was a rustling of the sheets as he turned over in bed, “night, Y/N.”

“Night, Pete.”

[pepminn]

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5. Fashion Watches: Trendy and Stylish Accessories

Fashion men's watches are all about making a bold statement. These watches are often designed by popular fashion brands like Fossil, Michael Kors, and Diesel, and are created to complement the latest trends. With their eye-catching designs, fashion watches are perfect for men who like to experiment with their style and stand out from the crowd.

Fashion watches come in a variety of styles, from oversized dials to unique materials like wood or denim. They’re great for adding a pop of personality to casual and semi-formal outfits. While they may not have the same level of craftsmanship as luxury watches, fashion watches offer a fun and affordable way to express your personal style.

Conclusion

No matter your style, there’s a perfect watch out there for you. From casual and sporty designs to sophisticated dress watches and luxurious timepieces, men's watches are available in a wide range of options to suit every occasion and personality. Whether you’re looking for a rugged watch for outdoor adventures or a sleek timepiece for formal events, the right watch will not only keep you on time but also enhance your overall look.

[transizzyhands]

hey look it's the first 2,000 words or so of this post-El Camino fic ive been working on

After 26 years in the desert, the first big adjustment was coping with the cold. Sure, it got cold in New Mexico, but it was nothing compared to Alaska's bitter freezes. Back when Alaska was just an idea in his head, he thought he could handle it. Oversized hoodies and beanies pulled low over his ears had been his wardrobe since he was a teenager, after all—they should have served him well up north.

Not so much. Less than a week after he arrived, after a night of shivering himself awake next to the wood stove, he got into the truck and headed into town.

It was a small town, vastly different from Albuquerque's busy streets and sprawling neighborhoods. Most of the vehicles around here were old trucks and Jeeps, bodies half-rusted away, with the occasional Subaru or SUV parked along the street. Small cars didn't fare well in the snow. Before the next big snowfall, he'd have to get chains. First things first, though: more layers.

A storefront called SNOWBUSTER'S EMPORIUM caught his eye. In the windows, a headless mannequin modeled a fur-lined parka and matching trousers, with a scarf around its neck and sturdy boots. He cut the engine halfway down the street and headed inside.

The bell over the door rang out, punctuating the classic rock playing softly over hidden speakers. “Hey, Joe!” came a woman's voice, but he couldn't see anyone.

“Uh. Not Joe. Sorry,” he said.

A head poked up from behind a rack of sweaters. “Oh! Nope, definitely not.” The woman, dark-haired and dark-eyed, shot him a mischievous grin. “Sorry about that.” She stepped out from behind the rack and approached him. “I'm Ness. New in Haines?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, let me know if I can help you find anything, okay?” She looked friendly enough, in her early forties with her dark hair in twin braids and a light-green flannel shirt buttoned high. “Passing through or staying?”

“Haven't decided,” he said. That, at least, wasn't a lie.

“This is a nice town. We always welcome a friendly face. How long have you been here?”

“Few days.”

“How do you like it so far?” As Ness spoke, she moved around the store, straightening displays or re-folding scarves.

“Not bad. A little cold at night.”

She hummed in agreement. “Staying warm at night is tricky. I always recommend getting a dog for that. But if you're allergic to dogs or you're not interested in getting one, there's always long johns! Back here.”

After a brief hesitation, he followed her to the back of the store and she gestured to a rickety shelf stacked with folded long johns. “Take a look back here, and if you don't find something you like, we can always special order something for you. It'll take a couple weeks to get in, but it's worth it. Welcome to town.” She stuck out her hand.

He shook it. “Thanks. Lucas,” he added.

Her smile widened. “Nice to meet you, Lucas. If you need me, I'll be up at the register. Just holler.” She went back to the front, leaving him to stare at the woolen clothing in silence.

But his attention just shifted right back to the shelves. They were splintering, half-eaten away, and looked like they were a rough sneeze away from falling apart. Flimsy plywood held together with wood glue and prayers. Before he could stop himself, he called over, “Where'd you get these shelves?”

Ness propped herself up on her elbows, leaning against the front case. “Why?”

“Hope you didn't pay too much for 'em, or I'd say you got ripped off.”

An eyebrow went up along with a small smile. “And how much would be too much?”

He scanned the rest of the store, eyeing the shelves in the walls. “Fifty bucks.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.” A horrible thought struck him. “You didn't make 'em yourself, did you?”

“No, I didn't make them.”

“Oh. Okay.” His heart rate started to return to normal.

“My brother did,” Ness finished as the bell above the door chimed out again.

“Your brother did what?” asked the man who'd pushed open the door. He wasn't particularly tall, maybe three inches taller than him, but his wide build, grown-out beard, and intense stare all immediately indicated that he was not someone to be messed with.

“Apparently, my brother is a piss-poor carpenter.”

“No, wait—that's not what I said,” he protested, silently kicking himself. He'd been in town less than a week, in this store less than five minutes, and he was already making an ass of himself. How the fuck was he supposed to keep himself out of trouble when he couldn't last a day with regular people?

“Lucas, this is Joe, my brother. We own the store.”

“I'm... sorry,” he mumbled, starting to skirt around the edge of the store toward the other door. His first, panicked reaction was to go for the gun in his waistband—the gun he didn't have on him. “I have this bad habit, I talk too much—look, I'll just leave and I won't bother you again.”

“That one doesn't open,” Joe said, his beard twitching.

“Ah.” He couldn't get a read on Joe's expression, but he didn't want to look too closely at him, either. “Are you gonna let me go?”

The siblings exchanged a look and then Joe stepped away from the door.

He took the opening presented and bolted before they could change their minds.

The snow crunched under his stiff boots, heavier on his feet than he was used to. Discomfort came from unexpected angles, from the cold against his scalp and the tug of still-healing scars when he talked, to tight new boots that hadn't broken in yet and an ache that went bone-deep when he bent his left knee. He focused on that to keep from panicking, focused on the key digging into his palm as he finally drew level with the truck.

The engine hadn't cooled much, so the air that blasted him was still warm. He fumbled through his unfamiliar pockets until he found his cigarettes and lighter. Maybe one day he'd quit, but right now, he didn't care. There was no guarantee he'd even make it to 30 anyway.

He needed a drink to calm himself down, but the idea of drinking alone after spending the better part of a year alone was enough to drive him crazy on its own. So going to a bar was the best option.

Fortunately, he didn't have to drive far. Barely a block away, he pulled into a practically-empty parking lot and went inside. It wasn't the sleaziest dive he'd been to, but it was up there. The dim lighting inside obscured anything farther than ten feet away. In some dark corner, only the quiet click of pool balls cracking together indicated a game of billiards. Despite the NO SMOKING sign behind the bar, an old-timer sat at a far table with a fat cigar burning. He went up to the bar, vacant aside from one bleary-eyed patron, and flagged down the bartender. “Jack and Coke.”

“ID.”

He slid his license across the bar top. The bartender's eyes scanned the name, the photo, the birthdate. “Sure thing, Mr. Driscoll. Five bucks.” She slid it back to him.

“Isn't it ten?” he asked, pointing to the prices listed above the bar.

“Happy Hour started at four. Jeez,” the bartender added. “Never heard a guy complain about a cheap drink before.” She pulled out a glass and started pouring, then nodded at someone over his head.

Before he could turn around to look, another body was in his space, sliding onto the stool next to his. “Just put it on my tab, Ruthie.”

“Sure thing. Anything for you? Get you your usual?”

“Nah, I'll just be a minute.” Leather creaked as weight shifted. “Never did get a chance to properly make your acquaintance. Joseph Parker. Everyone calls me Joe. Nella said you're Lucas?”

He swallowed and forced himself to look at Joe. “Yeah. Luke is good too.” It brought Luke Skywalker to mind. Badger and Skinny Pete were Trekkies if anything, but he'd always preferred Star Wars.

“Luke.” It looked like Joe was grinning, but it was hard to tell for sure.

“Yeah. Luke. My last name's Driscoll, though. Not anything cool, like Skywalker.”

Joe laughed, a big and genuine laugh, and Luke took a swig of his Jack and Coke to hide his sigh of relief.

“So, like... what are you doing here? You didn't follow me here just to buy me a drink, did you?”

Joe nodded slowly and lightly tapped his pinkie and ring fingers on the slick wood of the bar top. “You're right. I just wanted to—look, are you okay? When you left the store, you looked like you were about to pass out.”

“Huh?”

“What you said? 'You gonna let me go?' You were shaking like a Chihuahua.”

“But your sister said—”

Joe waved dismissively. “Ness was messing with me, that's all. That's what she does. I know those shelves're garbage. They've been like that for ten years. We fight about them all the time.”

“So why don't you just replace them?”

“You'll have to ask her that. Sometimes it feels like the only way they'll get fixed is if someone does it overnight.” He propped himself by his elbow. “Bah, it's not that important. Listen, there's no hard feelings, Luke. You gave a fair and moreover honest assessment of my work. It don't bother me any. Besides, if you keep talking to Ness about it, you might be able to help me convince her to replace them.” Joe got to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on back sometime and we'll take care of you.”

He shook Joe's hand. “Yeah, for sure. I'll be back.”

“Cool. See you around, Luke.” He stepped away, his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer in Luke's, and Luke swore his heart missed a beat but by the time he processed it, Joe was out the door.

He swirled his drink for a moment and then took another swig, grimacing slightly at the burning tang of whiskey.

“Well, since Joe's paying, want another?” Ruthie asked.

“He's really not gonna kick my ass?”

“Who, Joe? He's a big cuddly kitty-cat. Besides, I wouldn't offer if it was gonna be a problem. So how 'bout it?”

He stared into the glass for a few seconds and then finished it off. “Yeah, sure.”

“Great.” She mixed up another and swapped out the glasses. “Here. So, I'm gathering that you're new around Haines. Makes sense, I've never seen you before. You hanging around?”

“Haven't decided. I haven't unpacked yet, if that's what you mean.”

“Well, why not?”

“I don't know.”

“Think you could stay for, say, a month?”

That wasn't what he expected. “For what?”

“Well, if I'm being honest, it's a little boring. Everyone knows everyone. Kind of a relief to get some fresh blood in here.”

Something about that comment put him on-edge. “You're not... uh, vampires, are you?”

Ruthie laughed so hard she cried. Neither of the other two bar patrons even looked over at them.

“I'm guessing that means no.”

Her giggles slowly subsiding, she wiped her eyes with the back of her wrists. “No, no vampires in this town that I know of.”

“Werewolves?”

Ruthie looked like she was going to lose it again. “Luke, I need your help to get Joe a date. This isn't a monster movie. Not to imply the two are mutually exclusive or anything.”

“Why do you need my help?”

“Because you're exciting, you're bright, shiny, and new, and you're probably looking for new friends of your own anyway, right? So it's a win-win.”

“Sure. So what's your angle in this?”

“What makes you think I have one?”

“Just seems a little weird, you know? Asking a stranger for help setting up your friend.”

“What? Come on, I bet you're a great wingman. But listen, hey. He's a good guy. He just needs to shake it up a bit. Stranger from out of town sounds like the perfect way to do that. But, hey, if you're not interested, no problem.”

There was only one right answer to this, and the wrong answer felt dangerous. But there was a tug in his chest, something telling him to stay. So he compromised. “I'll think about it, okay?”

Ruthie nodded appreciatively. “That's more than I can rightly ask a stranger.”

[noramakesstuff]

Ultimately i will absolutely mirror my lasts by 3d scanning the originals and 3d printing the copies, that and gluing a leather sole on the bottom for the tack to hold in the lasting process.

Because this is SO annoying.

I'm doing it now because i don't have access to a 3d printer rn but i do have time and wood on my hand and i want to make the 3 prototypes to know if these lasts fit me

I made them while following the method and measurements from both my foot and :

"The manufacture of boots and shoes 1902"

By F.Y Golding

The wood is wrong though, i have no charme or beech but i have a shit ton of pines of all sorts , already dried and set because it is mostly from old wardrobes and furniture i dismantled over the years.

I made no hinge for any of them because first of all it is a pain to make and second i cannot find a clear picture of how the hinges work so i can reverse engineer it. I have nor the energy not the wish to design the entire hinge system myself.

[tejuskumar13]

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[sumuraj]

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[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

tagged by @malcolm-f-tucker, thank you most esteemed ant!

Nickname: em is already a nickname, hehe

Sign: gemini

Height: 5 ft/about 152 cm

Last thing I googled: nothing glamorous, just fuel price for the station near my uni

Amount of sleep: about 8, but i function best with 9

Dream job: professor of teaching in engineering and/or test pilot/flight test engineer

Wearing: i've changed into pambahay lol but for most of the day i was wearing full length jeans (lab day wahey) and a royal blue half-sleeve cropped t-shirt with white sneakers. plus a hat with an extension to cover the neck when i was out for lunch.

Media that summarises me: cabin pressure, hands down. and bach's two-part inventions

Favourite songs: tapestry by carole king, i can't go for that (no can do) by hall & oates, annie's song by john denver...

Instruments: piano and violin but violin's become my primary. also voice, if i decided to actually Do Something With It

Aesthetic: modest but full of personal meaning. pale wood and light colors but not pastel. a lot of blue in my wardrobe and scattered throughout my life.

Favourite author: Rizal, followed by Austen. C.S. Lewis gets a shoutout because the chapter about Friendship in The Four Loves makes me want to bite things

Random fun fact: i make a lot of ferrofluid. it just looks like regular muck until you hold a magnet up to it and then you can move it all around. it's so cool

Some favourite mutuals to tag: trying not to spam tag people since i did quite a few tag games the past few days, but here goes! @dreamofpeppermints, @containsmoss, @metastablephysicist, @starnewt, @cjflint

[acorncoffeeformysweetheart]

Okay, I decided to edit that fic and write a whole post about the furniture in the Cabot house. Spoiler alert: yes, Ed and Sole finally kissed after two years of awkward tension (even though Sole already has these two dumbasses, Mac and Gage).

I thought this could be a nice example of environmental storytelling. I understand that it is impossible to realize this in such a large game, but I can write about it.

 Let me start by saying that five years after the bombs fell, Ed decided to get married, which made Jack absolutely mad. Ed left the job, but four months later, Jack and Emogene apologized and begged him to come back because they could not find anyone suitable to replace Ed. He agreed to return. Jack began to behave much more respectfully, gave Ed a big raise in salary, and a large room on the first floor next to the kitchen.

I found this photo three years ago and fell in love with it. It’s very close to what I’m thinking about. "Went to get wood", Wood, found objects, ≈12’x9’x10’, 2008 - by Ethan Hayes-Chute

Ed, like many ghouls, has sleep issues, and his room is very different from the rest of the house. It is painted dark green (even the ceiling). Thick, heavy curtains hang from the window. The bed is just huge, 2+ meters, because Ed himself is fucking huge two-door brick-built fridge. And this bed is for sleeping. No one in their mind would bring women to the house they are working for, especially since Ed was generally not interested in this (his wife and child lived in the next house). So, the bed takes up a significant part of the room; there are several different blankets and a dozen of pillows on it, and when Ed sleeps, he buries himself in them like in a nest (quite funny, yes). He even has this silly pillow stuffed with aromatic herbs that you put under your main pillow to make it smell nice.

 He has a lot of strange things in there because his duties include working with caravan owners, knowing who sells what, where, and when, and seeing a lot of different things. And periodically, he buys something for himself because, why not?

 After all, when a single mature man works a lot, he should have his me-time and me-things. And Ed has several hobbies. He loves good clothes. He gathered a whole collection of these goddamned (oh, I adore them) Irish grandpa caps (although he had a hat for any occasion, the sun of the wasteland will burn your bald head). He drinks a lot and smokes like twice as much as Sole and Mac together.

So his room, still perfectly clean, has a lot of stuff in it. A large wardrobe (because he has a lot of good clothes for weekends and even has a seamstress friend who sews for him), a full-length pre-war mirror—a true rarity. Several large shelves with books, notebooks, and folders with blueprints—because he does all the engineering work around the house (after all, he is a former navy engineer; during the war he served on a ship, and he has been on airships and loves them), looks after weapons and equipment, and also helps Jack with the simple stages of his research. Large work desk. A comfortable armchair for reading (oh, I adore the fact that the community unanimously considers him a reading person).

Soon after the assault on Parsons, one by one, the Cabots died. Ed buried them and grieved. He drank for three months and even gave the cats to Daisy because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to take good care of them. Then he joined one of the caravans and worked as a security guard for six months just to get his mind off things, to be in the fresh air, and to be around people, not for money. 

Then he pulled himself together and returned to the house. You know, this may sound cool—I inherited a house like this. But in reality, no. And Ed didn't want that. After all, he could live anywhere.

He took off paintings and removed unnecessary furniture. When Sole came for the first time after a long break, she was very surprised. The living room and dining room (in fact, Ed moved there) greatly changed. They have lost their fashionable gloss but have become warmer and cozier. It was immediately obvious that he now lives here. There was a knitted blanket and colored pillows on the sofa. Instead of that huge portrait, Ed hung a simple rug, the kind Sole had seen in farmers' houses. There were books on the coffee table, by the sofa, and on the dining table. An open bottle of whiskey and a glass. Ed carried the wood-burning stove into the dining room and carefully routed its chimney out the window. On it stood a large, bulbous copper kettle. Simple clay bowls and one huge crooked wooden one for all the weird beer snacks Sole loved so much.

He almost stopped using electricity, except for the reading lamp. There were now large grease candles in metal trays everywhere. And one oil glass lamp (similar to Orthodox icon lamps in Sole’s homeland) so that there is always a fire lit at home, from which you can light a cigarette (he still tried not to smoke in the house, although no one could stop him). I think there should be a smoking balcony with chairs and potted cacti. Ed used to smoke there with Emogene. There was never anything romantic between them, but she sympathized with him and loved his company.

Overall, it was a large and lonely house. It saw a lot. So when Gage asked Ed to come live with them on the lake, Ed was very relieved. Everything has become easier. He was a simple man, and his pleasures were simple. Beloved woman nearby. Beautiful view. A friend's little funny son (Ed loves children and got along well with Duncan). Clean water to bathe at any time. Farm animals. The forest. The caravan still comes once every ten days; you can have a drink and listen to their stories. You can take a boat and go fishing. You can even pack your stuff and go to the sea or to Diamond City if you really want to. Life is good.

At the farm, Ed lives not in the house itself but in the former boat house and workshop, in which part of it was first fenced off, and later another room was added. The room was small, and most of it was taken up by the bed. Pillows and blankets. Books are on shelves under the ceiling. In the same place where a huge amount of dried herbs hung. Ed continued to distill and collect herbs for infusions, cooking, and medicine. He made delicious tea, massage-soothing cream, and even a little perfume on holidays as gifts. Sole loved sleeping in his bed during the day; the room was always cool and smelled deliciously of herbs, wood, and oil. Calm and safe.

[himevampirechan]

Vanishipping fanfic: Duat

Week of revo is coming soon. But any time is the right time for write fanfiction for my favourite ship: Atem and Anzu.

English is not my firts languaje and i used an web translator to help me with this chapter. Soo sorry if you found any mistake.

DUAT

FOREWORD     

A glass shatters shrilly against the floor.

"Ukht?" Marik asks from the sofa with a confused expression, Ishizu Ishtar stares in shock at the photographs on his desk.

Weeks ago, her colleague in London had asked for her help in translating a, newly discovered, manuscript. Now that the young woman knows its contents, she does think she isn't capable of revealing the information to Dr Carter.

"it can't be," whispers the woman, attracting the curiosity of her brothers.  Marik rises from his seat and Rishid picks up the pieces of glass from the floor.

"The papyrus... It speaks of Atem!" The Egyptian woman points with trembling hands to one of the translations. A hiss of pain, make them to jump in surprise, Rishid watches the blood fall from the cut on his finger. 

In the background, the phone rings. A bad feeling.  

...

"HELP ME!" She shouts, pushing the door once more. It won't open, it won't move. She can feel the flames, coming closer, through the wood "PLEASE!" 

A creaking sound above her head makes her instinctively run to the far wall; the ceiling collapses and its beams, blocking the only way out of the room.

Frightened, she can see smoke coming from under the door. Coughing, her eyes filled with tears, she huddles between the wardrobe and the mirror where, before each performance, she applies her make-up.  The young woman gropes the floor for something that might help her, but her fingers stop when she finds her ballet shoes.

"I..." she whispers, her voice hoarse from the smoke "... I'm going to die".

The thought loops inside her head until the words stop making sense and her body feels numb. And just like that, the fear disappears.

"It's a shame." She says resignedly, lowering her gaze and fondly touching her attire. The walls behind her back have begun to burn.

"I would have liked the others to see me dance..." Her head spins. The mirror, to her right, explodes into shards showering her with glittering glass.

She can no longer breathe, her skin hurts. Something thunders, something falls? It's impossible to tell exactly, the heat is too much.

"Atem" She closes her eyes, with a small, sad smile "I'm sure he won't be at all amused to see me so soon."

...

The sound of ambulances and screams, it's too loud.

"MY FRIEND IS STILL IN THERE!" He repeats in a desperate voice, trying to break free from the fireman who is pushing him by the shoulders. His strength pushes him back a few steps.  

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" shouts Jonouchi in the distance as Otogi tries to reason with one of the policemen blocking the way. Behind them, Sugoroku Mutou looks terrified at his grandson and Bakura holds Shizuka's hand since she is crying against his shoulder.

Honda punches one of the officers who is holding him. Feeling free, he runs desperately towards the theatre but three men, pinning him brutally to the ground.

"YUGI!" Someone calls out to him above the melee. Mokuba runs in his direction pointing skyward, in his hand a smartphone and an earpiece in his ear "KCorp emergency team is coming!"

"Where is she!" shouts a female voice, Mai Kujaku approaches with a distressed expression. In the sky, the sound of engines approach.

"Mai..." whispers Yugi feeling everything crumbling in front of him. Numb with pain, he turns his head towards the burning building, as if to answer the young woman's question.

With a gasp, the blonde holds him by the neck, glaring angrily at him with tear-drenched eyes.

"WE MUST GET HER OUT OF THERE!" She demands shaking the boy. A cracking sound makes the world move in slow motion.

There is an explosion, fire rises against the night sky. What's left of the building shakes and with a noise, echoing in the hearts of those present, it collapses.

"BEWARE!" shouts a fireman pushing people away from the scene. There is a second explosion, the helicopters manoeuvre to avoid impact.

Jounnochi falls to his knees screaming desperately. Honda, with blood trickling down his chin, stops struggling against the men holding him down. Behind him, Yugi hears gasps, screams and sobs. 

"No..." he whispers feeling his chest tearing with pain "¡¡¡¡¡ANZUUUUUUU!!!!!"

...

"Aibou!" Atem wakes up with a gasp. Bathed in sweat, he throws the sheets away and walks, with numb steps, towards the balcony in his room.

"That was Yugi's voice," he declares, feeling a lump form in his throat as he remembers the scream in his dream.

The kingdom of Kemet, or rather, its copy that remains within the Duat; Immeasurable in its grandeur and immovable to the passage of time, stands proudly under the starry sky.

A light suddenly illuminates the firmament. It approaches from afar, like a shooting star, and as it passes over the temple of the god Osiris, it swirls over its obelisks, illuminating the palace esplanade and the village.

"What is that?" whispers Atem with a frown. Below, in the gardens the guards begin to stir with alarm and in the streets the inhabitants of the kingdom emerge from their homes in confusion.

Like a bolt of lightning, the lightning strikes and its impact shakes the earth so badly that Pharaoh must cling to the balcony with his hands. The cries of the people and the creaking of the walls flood the night.

Alarmed, Atem turns towards the exit but the sound of his name, whispered in his ear, stops him in his tracks with a shrinking heart.

"Atem" it repeat. His body fills with a strange emotion. A feeling of shuddering sadness makes him turn his body and gaze intently at the temple still glowing in the strange light.

His heart knows immediately: someone has arrived and, whoever it is, is waiting for him in the sanctuary.

"Your Majesty!" Siamun shouts, almost crashing through the door, as the young man rushes out of the room and down the stairs. Behind him several people call out to him.

 "My horse!" Atem exclaims, in an authoritative voice, once through the garden gates. The guards and servants watch, wild-eyed, his sudden entrance.

"NOW!" he orders in a snarl and the frightened people present spring into action. The enclosure is flooded with the sound of animal whinnies and the creaking of straps and metal. As he waits, a group of people rush in, surprised by the impatient look on his face. 

A frightened servant hands over his horse, which, ready to go, snorts and snorts. Atem checks the reins in a swift, expert movement; satisfied he approaches to mount but a hand on his shoulder releases him from his frantic state.

"Your Majesty!" calls Mahado, catching up with him at the stables. With a gasp, the young pharaoh looks around him and, becomes aware of the people waiting restlessly for his orders. His eyes follow the hand that holds him until he meets the confused face of his cousin, Seto.

"Seto..." he whispers, after a few minutes of meditation "...Inform my father of what is happening and gather the members of the council in the throne room for dawn."

 "Mahado..." He continues, giving no chance for interruptions "...You will mobilise with Shada the guards inside the city. Investigate the possible cause of what happened in the sky tonight and make sure the villagers are safe."

"Anknadin" He adds, jumping on his horse and holding the reins tightly "You and Karim must go to the temple of Jedhu to confirm that the bas of the Egyptian gods were not harmed."

 "Yes, my Pharaoh!" reply the aforementioned with worried expressions but without going against the orders of their king. Light footsteps catch the boy's attention. 

"Temmy what's wrong?" asks Mana looking up at him from the floor with a distressed expression, the Pharaoh bites his lip trying to think over the sad voice that continues to whisper in his ear.

"Mana..." he exclaims after a few seconds, moving his horse to stand directly at the garden gates "...Find Isis, gather a group of hekas as soon as you can and await my return."

"Where will you go?" asks the mage walking at his side. Atem watches, from his mount as the doors to the stables are being opened by the servants. 

"There is something I must check at the Temple of Osiris" replies the young man, as he checks his horse's saddle one last time. Silently, the rest of the priests and servants watch the exchange with trepidation.

"You can't go alone! We have no idea what is going on!" exclaims the sorceress, surprised by the determined expression on his face.

"My Pharaoh, please..." begins Siamun between altered gasps "...If you could just wait for the guards...."

 "Someone is calling me" sighs Atem looking at them out of the corner of his eye. Without another word, he pulls on the reins and gallops away, swiftly, on his horse.

"I'll go with him!" announces Mana, summoning her staff to reach the pharaoh with a spell.

"Mana, wait," a voice stops her. With confused expressions those present see Isis approaching, wearing her characteristic calm expression.

"The Pharaoh will be fine" declares the brunette, stopping in front of everyone "I propose that we follow Pharaoh's orders, while we await his return."  

"What did you see?" asks Anknadim and the priestess looks sideways at him with an enigmatic expression.

"I do not yet fully understand it" she confesses, lightly touching the golden necklace she is wearing "But I know that the Pharaoh must go."

Resigned and silent, those present walk away to do his bidding. Mana remains still in her seat, worried and more confused than ever. Before walking away Seto sends a meaningful glance to Isis, warning her in a simple gesture that he owes them several answers.

"The wheels of fate have turned, again, in that direction," Isis whispers softly enough for no one to hear. A smile tugs at her lips as she gazes into the distance at the gleaming temple of Osiris.

                                                        ...

Atem gallops astride his horse; snorting, the animal races swiftly across the desert. The boy's knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on the reins.  

"Atem" whispers once more in his ear.

"I'm coming..." he thinks spurring his agitated transport "...I'm close."

The animal's hooves skid as it forces him to slow down on the spotless tiles of the entrance. He hops down, then hurries towards the building.

Panting, he reaches the main hall of the temple; it is a room that closely resembles the shrine of the shadow duel: huge in its expanse, its walls are covered with hieroglyphs recounting the resurrection ritual of the god Osiris.

In the centre, under the moonlight, lies the mummified statue of Osiris; Atem gazes at the green of his skin and the bandages that lovingly cover his reborn body, brought to life by his wife, the goddess Isis.

Cautious, he picks up a torch and paces the room; his body stands alert, his scarlet purple eyes greedily scanning every corner in the huge room.

"Atem" whispers faintly in his ear. The pharaoh is petrified for a second in place; confused he raises the torch, directing the light around him in an attempt to better illuminate his path.

And then, he sees her on the ground: naked and unconscious, her face hidden in long dark hair, there is a woman at the feet of the god Osiris.

The young pharaoh approaches, glancing at the woman's pearly skin, her limbs stretched out on the ground are thin and seem fragile; the pharaoh feels a weight in his chest at the implications of the lack of clothing on her body. 

 "Atem" sighs one last time in his ear, the soft almost loving sound delighting the boy. Afterwards there is only silence.

"Are you alright?" he asks aloud, leaping the distance between him and the woman. Wasting no time, Atem takes her in his arms.

Looking respectfully away from her nakedness, he lets her head rest on his shoulder. He shakes her gently, still talking to her.

"Oi, wake up! Are you okay?" He can feel the soft breath against the skin of her neck, her body warm and seemingly uninjured.  

"Guards!" He shouts hoping someone will help. He tries to stand up holding the young woman, she moans slightly burying her face a little more against his shoulder; a scent wafts from the long strands of hair interrupting the Pharaoh's actions.

"Peach?" Atem's heart gives a start, his knees tremble even and if the girl weighs nothing in his arms. Incredulous, and careful not to hurt her, Atem shakes his body.

The pearly face falls from its position, uncovering him from the annoying brown hair: rounded profile, full lips of soft colour. Long eyelashes, small nose. Atem could recognize that face and scent in a million people.

"Anzu?!"

CHAPTER NOTES

Duat/Amenti/ Necher-Jertet: The underworld of Egyptian mythology, the place where the trial of Osiris was held, and where the spirit of the deceased must wander, avoiding evil beings and other dangers. His heart is judged in front of 12 Gods and, if worthy, he arrives at the final gate where he finds an exact copy of the living world free of poverty, disease and pain.

'Ukht: From Arabic: Sister.

Heka: Sorcerers.

Ba: soul

@revolutionshipping @chocolapeanut @week-of-revo @itsmechmech

[unboundtravels]

SHORT TRIPS; UNBOUNDNOVEMBER 20/23: SUNRISE

A post regenerated (Looney) Doctor enters The TARDIS after a trying ordeal. Inside, he attempts to situate himself after the change concludes.

She stands there on the corner of an empty street. The sunlight bakes her wood, causing her to have an aged, rustic look. Her blue has faded into a darker color. She's decided she wants to wear an aged, faded look. Her windows were a pale yellow, her text and lamp scratched and worn. Despite her rustic appearance, she's still the most beautiful thing he's ever laid his eyes on. 

He's still wearing another man's clothes. Now he's maybe a few inches shorter, though. He's holding a thick cotton black coat, wearing a baggy faded sweatshirt and loose trousers. He'd already kicked the boots off a while ago. His skin was lit with a blush, his cheeks dotted with the odd freckle here and there. His eyes were bright and brow and his hair was long, wavy, and brown. He hadn't had the time to change because he'd been forced to wake up prematurely and attend to some planet-saving business. That was done now.

"I like your new look, old girl." He compliments, before fishing out the key and pushing the door open. Once inside, he was bathed in a warm, aquamarine glow. His eyes take in the circular shape of the new console room. "Oh," He cooed, "I really like your new look." He moved to step up the raised platform, hands tracing the rusted railing before he stepped up onto the first of two raised platforms leading to the console. He's impressed by the organic pillars and the wall-mounted platform. The TARDIS felt very mechanical in this form, with a splash of patchwork to make her feel more handbuilt. That made the connection between himself and her more intimate in that regard, he thought. It felt like she wanted to feel pride in him. Switches felt placed in familiar positions that made it feel like he himself had constructed the craft.

The rotor was pretty. The crown jewel of the console room. Steeped in a blue glow that gave it a beautiful contrast with the amber walls. The loose cables were a lovely touch, while also feeling needed. More powerlines indicated increased power. He draped the coat of his previous incarnation over the hydraulic raised car seat near the back of the console. He stepped toward the console, his hands clicking and twisting various switches that seemed to prime the engines and the console. He exhaled, "Ohoho... I know I hear ya, I hear ya." He replies to the purr of the TARDIS engines. She's ready to take off. Before he can even begin priming the engines for take-off fully— he moves to step away from the raised platform, down through a small hatch-like door leading into the corridors.

The Wardrobe was a multiple floors, with a rotational staircase leading up to the rest of the floors. He climbed up it immediately, heading toward the top floor. He intended to work his way down, and on his way up he began removing the rest of his previous selves clothes. On the top floor, he started with pants. He grabbed a tight pair of black jeans and socks. On his way down he grabbed a black T-shirt and a pair of sneakers, high tops. Near the final floor, he grabbed a green cargo jacket and a messenger bag. By the time he reached a mirror, he was more confident in his appearance. His hands were in his jacket, but the messenger bag helped his look appear firmer, tighter.

With his new look, he moved to click various switches that warmed up the engine. A buzzing on the console attracted his attention. The console deposited a Sonic Screwdriver, the latest model. Retrofitted with all the current upgrades and a little extra. The Doctor squealed excitedly, "Oh! A new one~" He grinned delightfully, like an excited, manic puppy. It was copper, with bits of silver. It's bulb was green. Holding it by the quartz handle, The Doctor aimed it. The button was housed in a black leather midsection. The bulb glowed an emerald green. He tossed the Sonic Screwdriver, letting it spin before he caught it again and slid it inside his inner breast pocket. "Thank you, sexy~" He winked at the console before standing away.

"We've got so many places to go... So many stars to see." He grinned brightly, that light in his eyes seemed restored. A light that had once been gone seemed rejuvenated, restored. He was eager, ready. He waited though, at the front doors. He leaned against it, the console. Perpetually caught in silence as he waited for his friend. Despite it all... 

He'd still rather head off with someone, than no one. And she'd endured so much.

She deserved a few more trips.