#i should count how many books i have... NO DON

[shadowtriovibes]

dance in a storm in my best dress

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3K

Summary: by request: "I have a fun idea! How about Sebastian and f!mc are "just friends" until one day she asks him to help her try on/give his opinion on some new dresses, and desire and spice ensue??"

"Go on and change back into your robes, Mister Sallow," the shopkeeper says. "I suspect we’ll be inquiring about your opinion shortly." While Sebastian returns to the back, Mr. Hill summons a modesty screen around the rack of dresses you’d pulled and waits patiently while you slip out of your school robes and wrestle your way into that first dress – the periwinkle blue. There are so many layers that it takes you at least ten minutes to even put on your crinoline, which Mr. Hill assures you he’ll let you keep on for all three options. "Have you even put one on yet?" you hear Sebastian call out when he returns. "Merlin's beard, you’ll take on a den of trolls by yourself but you’re bested by today’s fashion trends!"

“Thank you for coming with me,” you say softly, shyly tucking your face a bit deeper into your oversized scarf as you avoid snow swirling around you.

It’s not an intense blizzard by any means, but nevertheless you appreciate that Sebastian had agreed to trudge down to Hogsmeade with you that afternoon when he could have spent the day with a dreadfully boring book by the fire in his common room, which is typically how he spends any free time he has as a seventh-year N.E.W.T.s student.

“Of course,” he says easily. “It’s about time I came up for air, so to speak.”

Despite the ongoing pressure of your final year of school, it had felt like all of Hogwarts had been abuzz about the upcoming holiday ball for what felt like weeks. Even you and your treasured trio of Slytherins had made plans to go together, and your daydreams of twirling across an enchanted dance floor in a fabulous gown had helped get you through some of the most arduous study sessions you’ve ever experienced.

With your end-of-term exams having concluded the day before, there was now only one thing standing in the way of you blowing off some steam at the ball with your best friend.

You need a dress.

Poppy had been the one to inform you that Mr. Hill had specially ordered some lovely fabrics from London as soon as he’d caught wind of an upcoming formal occasion. While it’s certainly too late to have anything custom made, you hoped you’d be able to find something in his shop that would suit you with a few minor alterations.

You’d invited Sebastian to join you on your shopping trip primarily for moral support, as the two of you were going to the ball together as friends.

(Anne had been quick to claim Ominis as her date so that she wouldn’t have to take her own brother, and you and Sebastian had been equally loath to bother asking anyone else.)

However, you suspect you may also need some help physically donning the dresses. You may not know much about what’s in fashion these days, but hearing some of your classmates boast about precisely how many garment layers they’d be wearing had nearly made your head spin.

“Do you have your dress robes?” you press him skeptically. “Anne said you were procrastinating.”

“Yes, nosy,” he laughs. “Ominis made me pick some out last weekend, and Mr. Hill should have them in for me by now.”

“Good,” you say primly. “You’ll have to try them on while we’re there and make sure they fit.”

“This is now my second trek into Hogsmeade for this silly ball,” he points out with a cheeky grin. “I hope it’s going to be as enjoyable as you lot are saying it’ll be.”

“It will,” you insist. “We all need something like this, something that’s just… joyful, I suppose.”

Sebastian glances sidelong at you with a tender smile.

“Fair point,” he agrees. “Right as usual, you are.”

“You’re still surprised after all this time?” you tease him, bumping your shoulder against his while he laughs.

When the two of you walk into Gladrags, Augustus Hill perks up excitedly and slips out from behind the ornate counter.

“Ah! Just the young witch and wizard I was hoping to see today,” he crows. “Come in, come in! I dare say, it’s awfully frigid today.”

You hang up your cloaks while Mr. Hill rustles up a tray of tea for the both of you. Ever since that troll encounter years ago, the Gladrags shopkeeper has always had a soft spot for you and Sebastian, which often results in the two of you feeling downright spoiled every time you visit him.

“Thank you, Mr. Hill,” you say as you accept the warm mug he offers.

“Mister Sallow,” he says as he hands Sebastian his tea. “Your dress robes came in just this morning! Why don’t I send you off with young Otto to try it on and mark up any alterations?”

You glance warily at Sebastian, reluctant to split from him as you do your shopping.

As though he’d read your mind, Mr. Hill laughs and insists, “He won’t be kept long, my dear! Fitting a young man’s dress robes is a much simpler task than that which you have on your hands, I should expect.”

“Why don’t you just pick out some things to try while Otto works his magic?” Sebastian teases. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Once you agree, Mr. Hill sends Sebastian to the backroom while you sip your tea and discuss some of your preferences with the kindly shopkeeper. You admit to not being very knowledgeable about fashion, but you have some colors in mind that you think may suit you – as well as very strict expectations on how much range of motion you want to maintain.

“I need to be able to breathe,” you insist, glancing hesitantly at some of the impossibly small corsets in the window display.

Peering over his spectacles with a wise smile, he answers, “I think that can be arranged.”

He then begins to show you the collection of remaining dresses he has in stock. As the premier clothier for the majority of your fellow witches at Hogwarts, he doesn’t have an unlimited supply this close to the ball, but his selections don’t disappoint.

“This blue color is quite pretty,” you sigh, gingerly inspecting the sleeve of one of the dresses he offers.

“I suspected you might like that one,” he says brightly. “Let us pull it for now and select a few more for you to try on, hmm?”

You end up also selecting a red gown with a smart-looking cape that would show off your house colors brilliantly and a crisply white evening dress with delicate golden embroidery around the bottom of the skirt.

“This should do for a start,” Mr. Hill says.

“Really? No green?” Sebastian asks from behind you.

When you turn to remind him pointlessly that you aren’t actually a Slytherin, your words fail you.

He looked utterly dashing in his dress robes. At first glance, he appeared to be wearing what looked like a Muggle tuxedo, but the extra-long tails and high collar gave away that it was most certainly wizarding apparel. His jacket and pants were both inky black – so dark that they appeared to even darken the room around him, or maybe you had just lost focus of everything that wasn’t him.

Of course, having been expertly fitted by Otto, Sebastian’s robes seem to cling to every inch of him. The waistcoat makes his waist look exceptionally narrow, or perhaps it’s that his chest looks so broad. His shoulders appear to be broader as well underneath his jacket, and while the long tails might appear to shorten other men, on Sebastian they merely elevate the length of his legs.

He slips on a pair of white gloves that Otto hands him and you bite down hard on the inside of your cheek. He looks like a proper gentleman dressed like this, you think – not at all like the haphazardly-robed young man you’re used to seeing.

“Ah! Excellent,” Mr. Hill says with a clap, breaking your trance. “A perfect fit.”

“How do I look?” Sebastian asks you teasingly.

“B-brilliant,” you stammer. “It, um. Fits. You’re fit – I mean, it fits very well.”

“Of course, we’ll charm the waistcoat to whatever color you’d like to match your dress, once you’ve made your selection,” Mr. Hill explains as he gestures to the garment. “Or simply leave it white.”

“Of course we’ll match,” Sebastian says easily. “But getting this one to make a selection isn’t going to be easy.”

You scoff and turn back around to the rack of dresses to hide your persistent blush.

“Go on and change back into your robes, Mister Sallow,” the shopkeeper says. “I suspect we’ll be inquiring about your opinion shortly.”

While Sebastian returns to the back, Mr. Hill summons a modesty screen around the rack of dresses you’d pulled and waits patiently while you slip out of your school robes and wrestle your way into that first dress – the periwinkle blue. There are so many layers that it takes you at least ten minutes to even put on your crinoline, which Mr. Hill assures you he’ll let you keep on for all three options.

“Have you even put one on yet?” you hear Sebastian call out when he returns. “Merlin’s beard, you’ll take on a den of trolls by yourself but you’re bested by today’s fashion trends!”

“Come and help me then!” you whine.

“Er – is that alright?” Sebastian asks Mr. Hill.

“Of course!” he exclaims. “He’s your date, it would be unchivalrous not to assist you.”

That’s when you realize that Mr. Hill probably thinks you and Sebastian are properly dating, but for reasons you don’t want to admit to yourself just yet, you don’t correct him.

You could also sorely use some help as well.

“Mind the petticoat,” you mumble as he ducks behind the screen.

You’re both quiet as Sebastian helps carefully bundle up the skirt of the dress and drape it over your upright arms, slowly working it down your body so that it doesn’t catch on any of the boning in your corset. Once the skirt gracefully pours down over your petticoat, you gently smooth the bodice and turn around so he can lace up the strings crossing your back.

“Too tight?” he asks softly.

“N-no,” you murmur. “You can even do them a bit tighter, actually.”

You gasp softly when he pulls on the strings and cinches your waist tighter, and Sebastian pauses for a beat, but you don’t instruct him to loosen it.

Once he fumblingly ties the strings together at the small of your back, he mumbles, “All set.”

He offers you a hand to steady you while you shuffle out from behind the screen. Mr. Hill immediately laves praise onto the dress, and while you agree that it is quite lovely, a glance in the mirror reveals that periwinkle blue just isn’t a color in which you shine.

“No matter,” the shopkeeper insists. “Onto the red, shall we?”

Sebastian again helps you slide the dress off up over your head and replace it with the red one, this time lacing you tightly from the start. There’s a delicate cape that goes with this one, so you turn around to face him so he can drape it over your shoulders and tie the small silk ribbons that sit just at your collarbones.

“Ought to be plenty warm in this one,” he jokes halfheartedly, trying and failing to resist the urge to sneak glances at your décolletage.

“Is the cape a bit…?” you ask quietly, wrinkling your nose. “Is it too much?”

“What?” he asks dumbly. “O-oh, no, I – I think you look great. It’s a great dress, really.”

You’re nearly as red as the dress when you emerge for a second time, and once again Mr. Hill thinks you look like “a buxom Beauxbatons beauty from the boulevards of Paris.” However, regardless of your house pride, if you’re going to be blushing like this all evening at the ball – and the odds on that are significant – you know you simply can’t go with red.

“I have one more to try on,” you tell Sebastian softly. “It’s that white one, just there.”

You notice Sebastian’s gaze linger on the ornate embroidery, a pleased look passing over his face.

“It’s stunning,” he tells you. “Shall we get it on you?”

You merely nod, not trusting yourself with words at the moment.

The moment Sebastian helps you slip into the white dress, you know you have a winner. As if imbued with magic (and perhaps it is indeed), the white silk shimmers almost like the fresh snow outside the shop window. However, instead of feeling like a proper ice princess, you feel warm all over – especially where Sebastian’s hands mindlessly reach out to trace the fine embroidered patterns on your bodice.

“You look…” he exhales. “You just need to see, come on.”

He walks you out for the last time and even Mr. Hill refrains from commenting until you twirl in front of the mirror, your skirt gracefully lifting and falling with your movement.

“...I look beautiful,” you whisper. “Oh, Mr. Hill, it’s just lovely.”

“This is the one,” Sebastian insists. “You have to pick this one, it’s hardly even a choice.”

“Your companion is correct!” Mr. Hill crows. “My dear, it’s as if that gown was made precisely for you.”

Otto comes by to charm a few simple adjustments into the fabric of the dress and you watch yourself in the mirror with wide eyes as it molds itself to your body. Now it looks just like one of those custom dresses in the illustrations that the girls in your year pour over in the shopping pages at the back of the Daily Prophet.

“I think we’re done here,” Sebastian says quietly, his eyes still fixed on that one embroidered seam at your waist where your bodice meets your skirt.

“Of course,” Mr. Hill agrees. “Let’s get you out of that crinoline so I can send you two lovebirds on your way for a nice Butterbeer or two!”

As he babbles on about how it’s just like the last time the two of you came into his shop together, you meet Sebastian’s gaze and realize both of you are steadfastly refusing to correct the man. You know that you’re blushing, but seeing him blush just as fiercely is quite revealing.

After you pay Mr. Hill and make plans for Otto to deliver the dress to the castle once the storm lets up, you and Sebastian wordlessly trudge down to Sirona’s lively pub. There you manage to snag a small booth in one of the far corners – one that you’re well aware is a popular spot for snogging.

“So…” he says softly. “Lovebirds, are we now?”

“Don’t start,” you warn him. “You know how Augustus is, it’s usually just better to let him talk than spend all afternoon trying to correct him.”

“You didn’t even try,” he observes.

You counter, “Nor did you.”

Just then Sirona drops off your drinks and Sebastian forfeits his turn in your verbal duel by taking a pointedly long sip.

Then you forfeit your own turn when you get too distracted by the bit of Butterbeer foam on his upper lip to offer anything remotely witty.

“Well, regardless,” Sebastian eventually murmurs. “You did look beautiful in that dress.”

“Thank you,” you say. “And you were very handsome in your robes.”

“Proper fit, one might say,” he retorts.

The cheek, honestly.

“Sebastian,” you say quietly. “I need you to be honest with me about something.”

“Go on,” he says, taking another long sip while you consider your words.

Slowly, you ask him, “Since we met… have you ever once thought about us being more than just friends?”

“Have I ever once thought about it?” he repeats. “Of course I have. Countless times, probably”

“Then why haven’t you ever said anything?” you ask, staring deep into your mug to avoid having to meet his eyes.

You flinch slightly when Sebastian reaches across the table and plucks one of your hands off your mug. He laces his fingers with yours and pulls you closer, and the noise in the room seems to dwindle to a whisper as he meets your gaze.

“Between you and me, you’ve always been the brave one,” he tells you earnestly. “And I’d rather have only friendship with you than ask for too much and lose you entirely. Believe it or not I have learned when to stop.”

You smile ruefully at the reminder of just how much Sebastian has grown since you chose to give him the chance to do so.

He drags his thumb across yours. “So, if you want to be brave, I’ll be brave with you.”

You exhale shakily before you finally confess, “Of course I want to, Seb.”

You’re nearly in his lap at this point, and there’s absolutely no way the conversation you’re having could be interpreted as merely friendly by any onlookers. So, you think, why not be brave?

When you kiss him, the first thing you notice is that he tastes like the caramelly richness of the Butterbeer you’d both been drinking. But then it melts away and it’s just him, just Sebastian. He’s wonderfully warm, and underneath the initial sweetness he tastes a bit like the fluxweed stem he mindlessly chews on while he studies to help him focus.

His nose slots against yours as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, and you wonder what he’s noticing about you.

But a moment later, the feeling of his warm hand on your thigh immediately makes you lose your train of thought.

“Seb,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to press your forehead to his.

“Let’s go back to the castle,” he blurts out eagerly.

You fondly roll your eyes and let him steal another kiss before you push him back with a gentle hand on his chest.

“I believe you just said something about having learned when to stop?” you tease him.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” he says cheekily.

“You’re just going to have to be patient, Mister Sallow,” you insist as you reach for your drink. “I thought I saw quite the gentleman in you today. I don’t suppose you could act like him until after the ball?”

“I could,” he offers. “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Tell you what,” you bargain, leaning in close. “If you can be a perfect gentleman from now until the ball, I’ll let you help me put my dress on, and then afterward I’ll let you take it off.” 

You hear him loudly swallow and take a deep breath before he holds out a hand for you to shake and breathes, “You have yourself a deal, love.”

[bitchinfawkseh]

Vegas Wedding

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Daryl Dixon x Female Reader PRE-APOC

Summary: It's 1990 and you just graduated high school, as a celebration, you and Daryl go to Las Vegas. The next morning, you wake up naked in bed with him after drinking way too much the previous night, but you also have a ring on your finger... a wedding ring.

Word Count: 2341

[A/N] I've been working on this for like a year lols

A spur of the moment Las Vegas trip with your best friend was definitely not something you should have done with little to no funds. You both just graduated high school - well - you did, Daryl dropped out junior year. And the two of you thought it may be fun to drive out to Vegas for the weekend to celebrate your newfound freedom.

The bright neon lights of Vegas were pretty overwhelming from even the car. You stared out the window at the scenery "I wonder how many hookers are working here." You muttered under your breath causing Daryl to snort. You glanced over at your friend, watching as his grip on the steering wheel tightened and he tried to bite back the smile growing on his face. You smiled too. "What?"

He spared you a quick glance before grinning "Don' let anyone else hear ya say tha'. Alrigh'?"

You giggled and nodded "Okay, okay. I won't."

He gestured towards the bottle of rum you were holding onto. "Pass me tha'."

You cocked a brow and crossed your arms "What's the magic word?"

Daryl shot you a glare "Please." You smiled sweetly at him before passing him the over half empty bottle. The sight of your smile made his heart flutter and sent warmth to his cheeks. He was lucky he was drinking right now, otherwise he'd have nothing else to blame for the extensive blush on his cheeks. Daryl finished off the rest of the bottle before tossing it into the back seat.

You rolled down the window just a bit, the cool night breeze hitting your face as you did. You closed your eyes and felt immediate relief as it washed over your heated form. The AC in Daryl's car didn't work, and it didn't help that everything he did made you so horny. "Did you book a hotel?" You asked. He hummed out what sounded like a yes, you had fake credit cards, and he had fake IDs. Although he didn't really use his ID, you two just stole most of the alcohol you got from your parents.

You glanced over at him, his eyes were trained on the road ahead of him. There was a cigarette between his lips and every so often he would exhale a cloud of smoke. It didn't bother you, hell, you smoked too on occasion. It was the 90s, everyone did. "Gimme a hit." You muttered as you scooted closer to him. Daryl grinned slightly before taking a hand off the steering wheel and taking it out of his mouth to rest between his fingertips. "Wha's the magic word?"

You wrinkled your nose at him "Please?" He then passed the moe to you and you took a long drag before blowing the smoke out the open window.

Once you arrived at the hotel (one that you spent way too much money on) you both started to drink more than you have already. The Labyrinth was playing on the small box TV that sat on the dresser in the room. You and Daryl sat side by side on the bed, you were sipping on a beer and he had some cheap whiskey. You swayed a bit and looked up at Daryl. He had a joint between his fingers, courtesy to his older brother Merle.

"Blow it in my face." You instructed as you closed your eyes. Daryl's brows furrowed and he leaned closer to you. "Are ya sure?"

"Yes." You said, confirming it with a small nod. It was a few more seconds before the cloud of marijuana hit your face and you didn't spare a single minute to inhale deeply. Your eyes fluttered open and he was staring right at you, it was a little difficult to figure out what he was feeling. He hid his emotions so well… and right now he looked quite dazed. Like he was thinking about something. Your lips quirked up "What?" You asked as you cocked your head to the side. You thought you saw his eyes dip down to your lips before back to your face. "Nothin'." Daryl muttered.

Your brows raised. "Do you want to kiss me?"

Daryl swallowed hard and shook his head "Nah, forget about it." He grunted. Heat rose in your cheeks and you purse your lips together. You glanced down at your bare thighs, you were just wearing a short night dress and a hoodie. Your mother would kill you if she found out you were alone with a boy, "half naked" in a hotel room. She would probably die herself if she knew it was a Dixon boy too. She told you time and time again that those boys are nothing but trouble and to stay away from them. "I want to kiss you." You whispered softly. You were much too shy to look at him now - you didn't know how he'd react - whether he'd look at you in disgust or just get up and leave.

"Ya…" He trailed off as you glanced up at him. Daryl rubbed the back of his neck and a muscle in his jaw twitched. "Ya don' mean that." Your brows knitted together and your lips parted. "I do." You said firmly. It may or may not be the alcohol giving you a false sense of confidence right now. "Yer drunk." Daryl mumbled.

"So are you."

Daryl's heart felt like it was about to pound right out of his chest - the girl he's liked since freshman year, you wanted to kiss him. What if you were only saying this because you were intoxicated? He didn't want you to regret it later - he cared about you too much for that.

You let out a tiny huff and crawled onto your knees, the plush duvet of the bed rubbed against them. You were now at eye level with Daryl, you puffed out your bottom lip in a pleading manner. "Kiss me, Daryl. Please?"

Your whole "please" and "what's the magic word" spiel started during winter break of freshman year. All because he watched as your dad said that to you after you asked if he could also give Daryl a ride home (your father liked Daryl despite how his dad and brother acted.) Your dad actually thought that Daryl was a nice kid after asking him a series of invasive questions. Now that didn't mean that he was okay with the possibility of you two being alone together, having the door shut while you hung out - none of that. He said privacy led to sex, and sex led to babies - and he wasn't going to have a pregnant teenager in the house.

The last thing you remember is him pressing his lips against yours gently.

Sun poked through the blinds, shining directly onto your face. You squinted and let out a low groan as the immediate pounding headache hit you. What the hell happened last night? You were suddenly aware of the fact that you were naked, your eyes widened and you lifted the sheets to peek at yourself. No weird tattoos or piercings…

Someone deeply exhaled from beside you and shifted slightly. You glanced over and sucked in a sharp breath as you saw him. Daryl - he was in bed with you- he also appeared to be naked - but you weren't about to check. You could only assume that you had sex with your best friend last night in a drunken haze. "Oh my God…" You whispered. A deep heat settled in your cheeks and stomach. "Oh my God!" You said once again, a little louder this time. Daryl's eyes snapped open at the sound of your voice - you seemed panicked. He was immediately aware of the fact that you were naked and that he was as well. Daryl sat up abruptly "Son of a bitch!"

You frantically pulled the sheets up to cover your chest. "Oh my God!" You repeated for the third time. Your heart was practically pounding out of your chest - it felt like you were about to die really.

Everything that happened last night started to hit you all at once. Your stomach was in knots - your heart was pounding in your ears. "We got eloped?!" You yelled in a state of panic. You eloped and had sex with him - all because you got drunk and high!

"Don't look at me!" You yelled at him. Daryl quickly turned his head away from you, his cheeks were tinted pink with embarrassment. "'M sorry." He grunted. You scrambled to put on a hoodie and sweats, he was drunk when he saw your naked body - he may not remember how it exactly looked and he sure as hell wasn't going to get another look right now.

You turned your back towards him and clenched and unclenched your fists. Your nails dug into your palms, making moon marks in them. "Okay, you can put on some clothes now." Daryl didn't say anything but you could hear some rustling and some quiet grumbling. He always got all grumbly when he was embarrassed or upset. It's a cute trait of his, he wouldn't even be saying anything most of the time. Just complete gibberish masked with grumbling. "Turn aroun'." He mumbled. You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly before turning. He was wearing what he was yesterday when you guys got here, grey t-shirt and dark denim jeans. Presumably, he just grabbed them off the floor, not caring to put on clean clothes.

"We-." You began.

He cut you off. "Yeah." He muttered. Your brows furrowed and you crossed your arms. Daryl interrupting you was a bit of a piss off, although the whole situation was also a piss off. But a part of you felt relieved that you had sex with him, even if you didn't remember it - you hoped it at least was good. But getting married to him!? That was extreme - out of the question, he probably didn't even like you. Maybe this could be the first step towards sharing your feelings with him… "We should talk about it." Daryl groaned and sat on the edge of the bed, talking wasn't his strong suit. "Wha's there to talka 'bout? Pre obvious wha' we did."

That made you roll your eyes and sit down beside him, giving just enough space so none of your limbs touched. "Not that. I mean our- our feelings." You said. Daryl stayed silent, meaning you were the one who was supposed to start talking. Just wonderful.

You spun on your heel as the beat dropped in the current song you were listening to - bottle of whiskey in hand. Daryl grabbed your hand and made you turn to face him. "Hey." He mumbled. His lips ghosted over yours and you were quick to stop dancing. Ever since he kissed you - the two of you were all over each other. You grinned against his lips and your eyes fluttered shut, "What?"

"Stop movin', I can't kiss ya when yer wigglin' around." He said before pressing his lips to yours. He tasted like cigarettes - and alcohol, but it tasted so good. He tasted amazing.

Daryl kissed you for a couple more seconds before pulling away. Your grin widened "You like kissing your best friend?" You asked softly. He hesitated before nodding, your expression fell and your brows furrowed. "You don't like kissing me?" Your voice was strained, you hoped it wasn't true. He quickly shook his head and his eyes met yours, "Nah - I do. It's just I don'... I don' wantcha to be my friend. I wantcha to be my girl." Daryl mumbled under his breath. Your eyes widened and your lips parted in surprise, he wanted you to be his girlfriend? You wanted it too - but you also wanted more. "What about your wife?"

Now it was Daryl's turn to be surprised, you wanted to marry him - you wanted to be his wife and you wanted him to be your husband. He wasn't husband material, he wasn't sure he was going to be a good boyfriend to you - let alone husband.

He scoffed, "Ya don't want a church or sum? Big fancy weddin'?" You shook your head and kissed him firmly to show him you meant it. "No, I just want you."

"Ya don't wanna marry me." Daryl said. You pressed a finger to his lips and tilted your head slowly. "Yes I do." You whispered. You leaned closer to him, your smile widening. "I'm sure there's an Elvis wedding chapel close by."

It didn't take much more to convince him to go to the closest wedding chapel.

“Vegas’ wedding laws should be much more strict.” You muttered as you peer at the cheap ring on your left hand. It's silver with intricate details on the band, and it has a cluster of gems that resemble a blocky heart. Daryl hums in agreement and you glance up at him, part of you wondered if he regrets marrying you. You swallow hard and square your shoulders as if trying to build confidence to ask him this. “Daryl,” you breathe and he looks at you almost immediately. The sound of his name on your lips is like an angel’s cry. He wasn't much for romantics, but it doesn't mean he doesn't think it occasionally. Finally, you ask the question: “do you regret marrying me?”

Daryl falls silent and angles to stare at the floor, he doesn't regret it - not one bit. He never pictured marrying you, he always thought you'd marry some rich guy and pop out a buncha babies; but, you being his and him being yours makes him happy. Gingerly, he sets his hand over top of yours, feeling the gem from your ring against his palm as he entwined your fingers. “Nah, I don’.”

You smile wide and glance down at your hands, relief filling you and his words making your heart flutter. He doesn't regret marrying you - he wants to stay with you.

Hopefully mom and dad won't be too upset that you are Mrs Dixon now.

[goodlucktai]

the way things change

tmnt 2007 word count: 2k post-movie / canon compliant b team & leo-centric

this was my main piece for the @turtlestogetherzine ! it was such a fun project that so many talented people came together on and if you haven’t already you should definitely check out everyone else’s AMAZING contributions !

title borrowed from rivers and roads by the head and the heart

read on ao3

x

Donnie and Mikey have always been something of a matching set. 

During their early years, they went everywhere together. Even when Mikey was at his most irritating and Donnie seemed two seconds away from disposing of him in brutal fashion—even though the two of them could be like night and day at the best of times—they were always on each other’s team first. 

Raph used to call them ‘the twins’ because they were both his younger brothers and they were both, in his own words, tag-teaming little twerps. The twin moniker caught on and even Splinter would use it occasionally. In the back of his mind, Leo still does.

Three weeks after the dust had settled over the remains of Winter Corp, he found himself thinking, Guess some things never change. 

“Donnie, a tablet at the breakfast table?” Leo asks dryly. “Really?” 

Blatant disregard like this for one of sensei’s longest-standing rules was usually much more Raph’s speed. 

Don pauses mid-scroll and thinks for a moment. 

“Mikey, what day is it?” he says eventually.

“It’s the eleventh, dude, you’re good,” is Mikey’s distracted reply. 

He’s making a game out of pouring as much cereal into his bowl as it will physically hold, which has amounted to a sizable mound of off-brand Lucky Charms. Leo is reluctantly curious to see what he’s going to do when he remembers he still needs to add milk. 

Donnie, for his part, immediately goes back to ignoring the rest of them as a whole. 

Raph puts his spoon down. “Explain what just happened.”

“It’s a prime number day,” Mikey says blithely, without looking up from the careful, exacting process of shaking another couple of marshmallow pieces out of the box. “Prime means primo screen-time.” 

Splinter is sipping his tea without refuting Mikey’s explanation, so that must be a thing now. Leo blinks, processing this. He can’t help remembering how it was before he went away, the strict ‘no electronics at the table’ policy, because mealtimes were family times. 

Raph directs his confusion down a different route. “Mike knows what prime numbers are? Since when?”

Donnie looks up from his tablet to angle a narrow look Raph’s way. His warm brown eyes are markedly cooler than before. He clearly didn’t appreciate the joke. 

He’s never been one to pick fights with his siblings. The Donatello Leo knows is a gentle soul, every bit as deadly as the rest of his family, but more inclined to mediate disputes than start one himself. 

So the last thing Leonardo expects is for him to take a page out of Raph’s book at eight in the morning. 

When Mikey starts tapping and humming, Leo can't help smiling a little. It’s a sound he missed in the jungle. 

“God, I can’t even hear myself think around here,” Raph grumbles. 

To Leo’s ears, it’s not unkind. Teasing, but good-natured. Leo knows what Raphael sounds like when he’s ticked off beyond all reason—when he’s angling for a fight and determined to get one, when he’ll say anything to get Leo to punch back—and this is very much not that. 

But something darts through Mikey’s expression that makes the big brother half of Leo’s brain sit up and pay attention. Donnie notices, too. 

“He has ADHD, asshole,” he snaps. “If it bothers you that much, put on some headphones or go away.”

The atmosphere changes on a dime. Splinter’s ears go up, whiskers slicked back. Raph looks as surprised as Leo feels.

“Donnie!” Leo says, more stunned than scolding. 

Donnie puts his tablet down, not quite hard enough to constitute a slam. “Are we really going to pretend that Mikey’s stimming is more annoying than listening to Raph when he’s in one of his moods?”

“Er, no.” Leo briefly looks to Splinter for guidance before he catches himself. “I mean—it’s just the way you said it.”

“The way I said it?” Donnie demands. 

“Dee, knock it off,” Mikey interjects unhappily. “You know I hate it when you guys put me in the middle.”

It pulls Donatello up short. He visibly grits his teeth, then bites out, “Can I be excused?” 

Splinter knows when to pick his battles. It’s a lesson all of his sons could stand to learn. 

“Take your plate, please,” the rat says. 

To Donnie’s credit, he doesn’t storm down the tunnel to the lab, even though it looks like he’d like to. The reinforced door shuts behind him with a decisive clang that rings through the lair. 

Leo feels wrong-footed by the entire exchange. Somehow, in the last three minutes, a comfortable family breakfast went entirely off the rails. 

Mikey isn’t humming anymore. The kitchen feels quieter than it should. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean—” Raph starts uncertainly. 

“Don’t be dumb, I know that,” Mikey says, not looking at anyone. He tips his dry cereal back into the box and then picks at his toast until he’s moved enough of it around that his plate appears halfway finished and he’s allowed to leave the table. 

He does so at a run, booking it to the lab. The door opens right up for him. It was locked the last time Leo tried it. 

And it’s locked the next time he tries it, too, half an hour later. 

“It’s me,” Leo calls, feeling a little foolish standing out in the hall. “Can I come in?”

Donnie’s voice answers immediately. “List the first ten prime numbers and I’ll think about it.”

Okay, this is Donnie with a grudge. Leo remembers enough of what that looks like to tread carefully. 

“I just want to talk,” he says. “Is Mikey okay?”

The door unlocks and Donnie rolls it open. He gives Leo an inscrutable look before he stands back to let him in. 

Mikey is parked in a huge bean bag chair in the corner, headphones on, drawing tablet propped against his knees. His ninja senses must have pinged when Leo walked in; he glances up right on cue and offers a hang-loose sign. Leo mirrors it, entirely because he knows it’ll make Mikey snicker. 

“He’s fine,” Donnie says unnecessarily, sitting down at his desk. “We look out for each other.” 

If that’s a jab, it’s a well-aimed one. 

“Yeah, I see that,” Leo says. “Look, I’m sorry if it sounded like I took Raph’s side back there. But you know that Raph doesn’t think Mikey’s stupid. He would be the first to break somebody’s jaw for implying that.”

“So that makes it okay to say whatever he wants to a neurodivergent teenager?” Don presses, eyes flashing. “But when I say something to Raph—”

Leo can feel himself losing his patience. “Donnie, come on. All I meant was that you shouldn’t pick fights when you know better.”

As soon as he says it he knows it’s the wrong thing to say. Donnie spins his chair around to face the computer monitors, neatly severing his half of the conversation.

“Close the door behind you when you leave,” he says in a clipped tone. 

Across the room, Mikey is watching them with round eyes. He’s a few seconds from tossing his art aside and getting up to diffuse the fight. As much as he hates when his brothers put him in the middle, he has no problem putting himself there. 

It almost seems like Mikey isn’t sure if it’s safe to leave Donnie alone with this strange newcomer who looks a lot like the big brother who left them all behind. 

Leo breathes through the sharp pain that brings him and thinks, Fix this. 

He draws another chair over and sits down. Donnie’s shoulders go stiff but he doesn’t react otherwise. 

“Sorry,” Leo says quietly. 

It takes a minute but eventually Donnie nods, brown eyes full and troubled. 

“Me too,” he replies. “I know I’m being difficult. I’m just—I feel so angry all the time.”

Donnie isn’t Raph. He never had any problem with Leo’s authority. He had his own parts to play on the team, parts he took pride in—doctor, scientist, engineer. He was relieved to hand back that mantle of leadership, to step back into his curated role, but that doesn’t mean everything just returns to the way it was.

Donatello still resents his big brothers for abandoning him, each in their own way. He’s still bitter about all the extra weight he had to carry, without thanks or credit. He’s been stuck in place for the last two years, no outlet, no time for himself, and nobody on his team but Mikey, the one person Donnie has always been directly responsible for and could never bring himself to burden. He picked up an I.T. job he hated and stuck with it for longer than he should have, because he wouldn’t know how to quit something halfway if his life depended on it. His typically strong relationship with Raph—one that Leo’s secretly envied since they were kids—soured and left him without their hothead’s support. He had to figure out how to be a grown-up at the tender age of sixteen. 

Then Leo came back, expecting everything to be exactly how he left it. 

Of course Donnie’s angry. It’s no wonder he’s picking fights left and right. 

“You’re not being difficult, Don,” Leo says immediately, wishing, not for the first time, that Splinter had never sent him away. “If you want to scream and throw things at me, I think that would probably be more than fair.”

“I don’t want to do any of that,” Donnie replies wryly. He swivels his chair slightly, facing Leo again. There’s something grudgingly hopeful about him now—Leo’s little brother, trying to remember how to put his faith in Leo’s hands. 

It’s such a precious thing to hold. Leo can’t screw this up again. 

“You’ve worked out a pretty solid system while I was gone,” he says, bumping Donnie’s shoulder with his fist. “Can you show me the ropes?”

Give Donnie a chance to teach and he shines. Sure enough, he brightens a little. 

“We help April with acquisitions for her antique store on Thursdays. Do you want to come?” 

Leo heard about that from April. Apparently it’s more of a game than a chore, a city-wide scavenger hunt. He was hoping for an invitation but he wasn’t expecting one. He feels himself smile. 

Mikey, who has clearly been listening in, lowers his headphones and asks, “All four of us?”

That brings Donnie up short. Leo jumps in. 

“I told Raph I wanted us to do a team-building exercise sometime soon, and he said he’d be down for anything, as long as you two promised to go easy on him.” 

That’s exactly what he said, too—only he’d added, gruffly affectionate, ‘those tag-teaming little twerps.’ 

“Sound good?” Leo asks them warmly. 

Mikey beams. Donnie’s disagreeable outer shell begins to soften. By some miracle, Leo still knows how to do this. Two years wasn’t enough to overshadow a lifetime. 

It’s a privilege to sit in the lab, watching Donnie bring up files on his latest project, listening attentively to engineering and mechanics that go clean over his head. Mikey joins them at the desk and shows Leo the digital painting he’s been working on, chattering energetically about watercolor and composition and the new brush he’s obsessed with. 

Raph wanders in some time later with an apology in hand—drinks from the twins’ favorite coffee shop. He probably left right after breakfast to be back already. 

Donnie smiles after the first sip. Raph must have got it exactly right.

Leo lets his tea warm his hands and soaks up their company the way regular turtles bask in sunlight. 

Donnie and Mikey built a house in the empty space their brothers left behind. The door isn’t always open, but Leo and Raph can always knock. Maybe they could even live there together someday, once they remember how to be on each other’s team. 

Until then, Leo is willing to put in the work. It’s what he’s always done. 

He’ll do whatever it takes to get back home. 

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Slide (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: T - language, suggestiveness, whump/blood/injury Word count: 5.4k

Summary: Benedict takes you on holiday to a remote bothy in the Scottish highlands. But things do not go according to plan.

Author's Note: This is an anon request fill for Benedict and Reader stranded in a cabin with an illness/injury. You can't threaten me with a whumpy good time, because this idea completely took over my brain and I wrote it in a day. 😅 Enjoy

“We should take advantage of the break in the rain. Let’s go on a little hike.”

“A hike?” You looked up from the sofa where you sat curled with a book. Benedict was standing by the door of the bothy, excitedly pulling on a coat. You had been having a relaxing holiday. Five days in a private luxury bothy in the Scottish highlands. He had been coming to the spot alone for years to paint and now wanted to share it with you under the pretense of your dating anniversary. You didn’t know if you believed such things deserved celebration, but your work in the city had been draining you lately and the reprieve was much appreciated. 

As luck would have it, your trip coincided with the rainiest weather in decades. It was always raining somewhere in Scotland but this was something else entirely. Torrential downpours for sporadic periods each day. But that hadn’t dampened your time together. Thus far, four days of nothing but lie-ins and fireside bottles of wine; reading while Benedict painted from imagination; lazy sex in the mornings and raucous sex at night. It was a bit dangerous that the bed was lofted, as your activities threatened to send you flying off of it. The little hideaway was so secluded that there was no internet and no cell signal, and that was one of the reasons Benedict loved it so much. He said he could hear his muse more clearly without the rest of the world butting in. Neighbors were also an impossibility, as the bothy was situated in a little copse of trees accessible only by crossing a footbridge that skirted a rough cliff edge. Nothing too high off the ground, but narrow enough that your car was parked half a mile away on the other side of the bridge. It was a tiny paradise, just you and the trees and the birds. The rain had occasionally relented to allow you a few rambles nearby, but you hadn’t undertaken anything as ambitious as to be called a ‘hike’.

Benedict was pulling his boots on and waving you toward the door. “Come on! Fresh air will do us good. Let’s go.”

You were remiss to leave your cozy nest but you knew he was right, and his crooked smile was irresistible. With a sigh you rose to your feet, donned your own coat and followed him.

He took your hand as you traipsed through the wet grass down the trail toward the bridge. The air had an earthy musk scent from the previous night’s deluge. It did feel good to stretch your legs. You didn’t even bother asking where you were headed, you would let Benedict lead you. But he suddenly stopped short. 

“You’ve got to be joking.” 

The path before you no longer led to the footbridge. Instead it ended abruptly at a slanting jumble of boulders. A rockslide off the side of the nearby cliff had completely blocked your exit.

You both stood dumbstruck, puzzling out your next steps.

“I don’t know how we didn’t hear this,” you murmured, imagining the rumbling crash of so many large stones piling upon themselves. 

Benedict chuckled next to you. “Well, one of us was being exceptionally noisy last night.”

You smacked him but it only made him laugh harder. Your frustration was building, so unused to being confronted with an obstacle you couldn’t quickly surmount. Or perhaps you could.

“I’m going to climb over.” You said definitively. “It looks solid enough. I’ll get to the other side, go back to the car and get help so this can get cleared away.”

“Well, I’m going with you.” Ben’s brow furrowed, something anxious in his eyes.

You shook your head. “Maybe. But one at a time. Let me test it out and find the footholds. I’m lighter than you.”

“Be careful,” he urged, but you were already clambering onto the nearest rock, pulling yourself over the larger pieces and tentatively resting your weight with each careful step. The top of the mound rose about eight feet off the ground and you scrabbled your way to it easily enough. Standing on top, you could see on the other side that the footbridge was still intact. It gave you a surge of confidence and you stepped forward, eager to scurry down the other side. Then everything sank, your stomach and your optimism as your right foot found a weak spot and shuddered downward in a small cascade of stones, sinking in up to your thigh until you felt it pinned at the ankle, the rocks trapping you in place.

“Shit!” You hissed, tugging uselessly to free yourself. It didn’t hurt, but it had immobilized you.

“What’s wrong?” Ben called from below, panicked.

You gritted your teeth. God, this was embarrassing. Off you had gone with bravado and now the universe was going to show you better. It was going to double down in fact, because you felt the first drops of rain spattering you from the dull grey sky. You clawed at the stones around your leg, able to toss some aside but others were so large you’d never be able to lift them. An animal part of your brain was starting to flood with fear, but you fought to keep your voice steady.

“I’m bloody stuck.” You lamented. “My leg is caught.” It wasn’t a request for assistance, but you should have known how he would react. 

“Hang on, I’m coming!” From your vantage point you could see Ben dash forward and begin to climb the rocks, not caring to test the stability of his steps, just rushing toward you. You opened your mouth to tell him to slow down, but your voice caught in your throat as everything suddenly rumbled, an ominous herald of what was coming. You both froze, staring wide eyed and feet apart from one another. Then everything shifted and fell away. 

Your entire sense of gravity tilted as the rocks beneath and around you slid, all jumbling together as they surged further away from the cliffside. You felt your leg snap within the grinding stone and cried out, landing on your side and feeling a jagged edge glance across your forehead. Your eyes fell on Benedict clamoring to reach you as he lost his own footing on the tumbling wave. He was unsuspecting, his eyes locked only on you when a massive boulder came rolling as easily as a toy ball and slammed into his side, knocking him out of view and into the tumult of roiling earth beneath you. You screamed his name but it was lost to the thunderous clatter. 

Amidst the chaos, one thought began to form clearly in your mind. This was how you would die. Crushed in a rockslide thanks entirely to your own stupidity. And worst of all, you had dragged Ben with you. The nightmare deepened as the sky ripped with a clap of thunder and rain began to pummel you in earnest as everything continued to slide and roll around you. Numb with anguish, all you could do was bury your face in your hands and wait for fate to claim you.

But it didn’t. In what felt like only a moment, everything stilled. The rocks had stopped moving, their sound had died away, and you were lying on top of the mound sensing nothing but the cold patter of heavy rain. You were still alive, a fact that was confirmed by the burning pain you felt pulsing in your leg. Looking down you saw that it was freed, released from the churning rocks, but it was bloodied and wouldn’t respond to your attempts to move it. Though it was a novel experience for you, there was no doubt in your mind that it was broken.

That was the least of your worries. As you came back to your senses they all tuned to one goal. You had to find Benedict. You called out for him, voice croaking, but were met with silence. You pushed yourself up to look around. The slide hadn’t buried the trail any further, only shifted on top of itself. You could see the path back to the bothy on one side and the footbridge on the other. But no Benedict. You screamed his name again, louder. Nothing. A sickening dread started to rise from your stomach as you began to pull yourself over the rock. You couldn’t stand properly and even if you could, you didn’t want to risk disturbing anything. It was better to spread your weight across the surface and so you began to slither on your belly, fingers bloodying themselves on rough edges as you dragged along in the direction you had last seen him. Everything was turning slick and muddy with the rain. You moved back down toward the trail, eyes sweeping, and just near the bottom is where you saw a spot of orange amidst the rubble. His shirt.

“Ben!” You shrieked, half-rising on your good leg to hobble over to him. You reached the bottom of the rock pile and saw him lying at the edge of it. You chanted his name desperately as you landed at his side. He was on his back mostly unhidden, a few small stones piled around his limbs which you pushed away, but one large one wedged over the right side of his chest. He was frighteningly pale and seemingly unconscious, lying still as he was battered by rain.

“Ben,” you called to him, taking his face in your hands. “Ben, wake up!” When he didn’t respond, your heart started hammering. No, no, no. You bent an ear to his mouth, silently praying to every deity you had ever heard of. To your great relief, he was breathing. But he was struggling. Your eyes landed on the boulder, covered in lichen and mocking you. You suddenly hated it more than you had hated anything in your life. With a surge of strength you didn’t know you possessed you drove yourself against it, leveraging with your good knee. It felt like fighting a brick wall and yet somehow after a moment, it loosened and you shoved until it tumbled backward and off of Benedict. 

Immediately he took a loud, wheezing inhale followed by a groaning “Fuuuuucccckkkkk.”

You would have laughed with relief if you were not so strung out on adrenaline and hell bent on getting as far away from this death trap as possible. 

“Ben,” You shook him lightly. “Benedict, open your eyes.” 

He did so, blinking against the rain, taking a moment to focus. Those bright, gentle eyes gazed back at you and made you feel rooted to the earth again. 

“We need to get back to the bothy. Can you stand?”

He stared at you, seeming dazed, then brought a hand to your forehead, speaking softly. “You’re bleeding.”

As his fingers came away red, you were surprised that you didn’t feel any pain other than the dull throb of your leg. None of this was important right now. You had to get to shelter and then you could assess all of your wounds.

“I’m alright.” You stated firmly. “We need to go, come on now.”

He wrapped his right arm around your shoulders, the sleeve of his coat ripped and dirtied. You braced against each other as best you could and tried to stand but both fell back with shouts of pain, you unable to tolerate any weight on your shattered leg, and him clutching at his right side. You were in bad shape, but had no other options than to push through. No one was coming to help you and neither of you would leave the other.

You locked into each other’s eyes, breathing hard, and a silent understanding passed between you. Now was not a time for weakness. You would need to be strong for each other. You banded your arms around each other once again and, wincing and gasping, slowly staggered to your feet. Ben leaned heavily across your shoulders while you hopped on your left foot and dragged the other behind you.

Somehow through the pouring rain, with the screaming throb in your leg and Benedict swaying weightily beside you, you inched back along the trail to the bothy, soaked to the bone once you finally shambled inside. You maneuvered to gingerly lay Benedict onto the sofa but he still cried out at the movement. Then he laid still, eyes screwed shut against the pain as he exhaled raggedly through his nose. Spurred to action, you hopped loudly around the small space gathering towels, blankets, water, and the tiny first aid kit stashed in a cupboard. What use it would be, you didn’t know, but it was all you had. You checked your phone, already knowing there was no signal to dial out but instinctively needing to confirm it. Your mind spun. Plans. Actions. Steps. You were going to fix this. You were going to get out of this situation. You just had to keep your head, which was significantly harder to do when the man you loved was lying nearby as pale as a ghost and groaning. But you could get yourselves warm and dry. That was a first step.

After stoking a fire in the woodstove you lowered to sit next to the sofa, clumsily tumbling onto the floor as you winced at the shooting ache in your leg. Benedict’s eyes flew open and he looked at you with concern. “Your leg’s broken?” He intuited.

“Mmhmm,” You nodded, breathing through the pain. “But I’m fine. We need to check you out.”

You mopped his hair and face with a towel, the friction and heat from the nearby stove bringing some color back to his skin. You searched his eyes.

“What hurts? How do you feel?”

He grimaced. “Dizzy, but not too bad. I don’t know if I’m concussed or if I just got hit by a great bloody bunch of rocks.” He ended with his telltale smirk.

You were feeling anything but humorous at that moment. His joke made your insides seize, worried something may be seriously wrong.

“Have you been concussed before? Do you know what it feels like?”

He grinned further. “I have. You don’t grow up with seven siblings and not end up concussed. This doesn’t feel the same, but I can’t be sure.” Your mind started to quest through any errant information you had about concussions. He could read the panic in your expression and brought a hand to wrap around yours. “Hey, it’s going to be alright. If I start to go loopy that’s not a good sign, but I really think I’m okay.”

All you could do was nod tightly, imagining a dozen horrific scenarios and realizing there was little to nothing you could do about them. You simply had to stay focused on the moment and the fact that he was clear headed now. 

“What else?”

He waved a hand vaguely over his right side. “Something bad, here.”

As carefully as you could, you worked in tandem to peel off his sopping coat while bit back yelps of agony. You frowned at the sight of his right arm, scraped and lacerated shoulder to wrist, but it didn’t appear to be broken. Then you lifted the hem of his t-shirt and he arched as best he could so that you could pull it off, turning his face away as he seethed into the cushions. You sucked in a breath, horrified by what you had uncovered. A bruise, black and purple and green, mottling the entire side of his body and rippling with each breath. Cursing to yourself, you rested fingertips lightly over it and even that caused him to flinch. 

“I think…” you wavered. “I think your ribs are broken.”

He stared at the ceiling, his voice tight but sarcastic. “Yep, that feels about right.”

“Can you breathe?”

“Well enough,” he sighed. 

The severity of the situation was sinking in. Hysteria was starting to bubble in your chest but you locked your jaw, determined to keep it together. “What do I… What should I do, Ben? How do I fix this?”

He turned to look at you, his expression going soft. “You can’t fix it.”

That threatened to push you over the edge. Your constitution slipped, your chin started to tremble, tears mounting in your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He cupped your face with a large hand, pads of his fingers pressing into your hair, urging you to focus. “We’re going to be alright. This is what’s going to happen. Tomorrow is our last rental day and the owners visit the property between guests. So they’ll come, see the path is blocked and know that we’re stuck here. They’ll get help. We just have to wait until tomorrow. We have everything we need here. We just have to be still and wait.”

You nodded, swallowing hard against the tears, ashamed that you couldn’t be stronger but breathlessly grateful that he would comfort you even when he was grievously injured. You kissed the palm of his hand and steadied yourself against its warmth. So very little was in your control, but you were determined to right the things that were. Moving carefully and trying to ignore the protesting pangs from your leg, you dried him off and piled him with blankets. The stove was burning high and the bothy still had the cozy air you had enjoyed the past few days. You stripped off your own soaking tops down to your bra and wrapped yourself in a blanket. Then you wet a rag and started to clean the cuts on his arm, dressing them with the ointment and bandages from the first aid kit.

Benedict watched you silently, something twinkling and bemused in his eyes. You worried that if you stared at him too long you were going to cry, so you focused on your task. Once you were finished he held out his hand.

“Give me the rag.” You handed it to him. “Come here.”

You shifted up to face him, concerned. “What do you need?”

Wordlessly, he pulled your chin closer with one hand and began to lightly dab at your forehead with the other. You closed your eyes, feeling the tears threaten again. If there was one thing Benedict Bridgerton would never cease to be come hell or high water, it was a caretaker of others. You weren’t quite sure what you had done to deserve such a man, but you knew it was imperative that you never let him go. As he wiped the blood away, your cut started to sting. You hadn’t found a mirror to examine it and you frankly didn’t want to. He was your only concern right now.

“Does it hurt?” He asked softly. You were too overcome to do anything other than nod. Then he pulled your chin down even further, leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to your wound. 

That’s what broke you. You finally let the tears spill down your cheeks, burrowing your face into the side of his neck. “I’m so sorry, Ben,” you whispered.

“What are you sorry for?” He asked, bewildered.

“I should never have tried to climb those damned rocks.”

He huffed. “You were trying to help us. I’m the one who shouldn’t have jumped up after you.”

You pulled back, sniffling. “You were trying to help me.”

“And look where all of that help landed us,” he smirked, causing you both to chuckle. But his laugh almost immediately turned into agonized gasps. 

“Alright, alright,” You put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “No laughing.”

“You need to splint your leg,” he rasped.

“How precisely should I do that?”

His eyes darted around the room. “The kindling for the stove. Take two long pieces and tie them off with towels.”

You began to drag yourself across the floor toward the woodpile, a realization forming that perhaps two people with zero medical training between them should not be as drawn to outdoor isolation as you were. You gathered two sturdy sticks and a handful of dish towels and then scraped your way back to his side.

“Make sure your leg is straight and tie it tight,” Benedict instructed. You nodded but were filled with apprehension. Ever since you had collapsed on the floor, your useless leg had been twisted at an appalling angle. You knew setting it was going to hurt. Taking a deep breath, you reached forward and tugged it straight. A white hot jab of pain jolted through your whole body, causing you to scream. Distantly, you could hear Benedict speaking to you, his hand rubbing circles across your back. His touch was what you focused on, the only thing helping you to fight the nausea as you lined up the wood and tied it tightly on either side of your broken limb, whimpering with each knot pulled. You fell back against the side of the sofa, panting as you found equilibrium and the searing pain faded back to an insistent throb. Benedict wrapped an arm across your chest, the closest thing to an embrace he could offer. You lay in silence together, exhausted, settling in for what was sure to be the longest night of your life.

Warmed by the fire and lulled by the rain driving against the windows, the atmosphere inside the bothy would have been dreadfully romantic if you weren’t both immobilized by broken bones and stranded, awaiting rescue. It would have been all too easy to fall asleep, but you were determined to stay awake until help arrived. You scooched yourself around the floor with all the grace of a geriatric slug, feeding the stove and brewing tea which you helped Benedict to drink as he lay flat. Out of habit you kept checking your phone, wondering if by some miracle a cell signal would appear.

“Sorry there’s no service here,” Benedict frowned. “Part of the whole appeal. Going off the grid.”

“I know,” you ran a reassuring hand through his hair. “It’s not your fault, I just can’t help checking. We need something to occupy ourselves.” Your eyes fell to the stacks of books beneath the coffee table, a motley assortment from the owners and you suspected, prior guests. You began to assess the authors, gauging his reactions.

“Dostoevsky?”

He grinned. “Well, I would enjoy that but I know it would put you to sleep.”

He was right. You set it back. “Ooo! Byron!” You lilted, waving the book at him tauntingly.

He groaned. “God, please. I’m in enough pain already.”

You laughed and tossed it aside. Next was a sleek, mysterious cover with a blurb promising ‘luxurious, unbridled passion’. You smirked. That seemed exciting enough to keep you both awake. 

“We’re reading filth,” you announced, settling in next to him again. You had expected something humorous, the kind of tawdry romance novel that every aunt seemed to be fond of. But while the story started out playful enough, the simmering sexual energy woven by the author’s talented prose was so evocative, you both started to squirm. The fearless, beautiful depictions of the lovers’ encounters were so salacious that you were too stunned to keep reading them aloud, your mouth falling open as you blushed instead. Dimestore trash this was not.

Benedict shifted behind you but you couldn’t look at him. “Maybe save that one for later,” he croaked. “Jesus, who wrote that?”

“Faye someone.” You mumbled, setting it aside with a mental note to steal it or buy your own copy.

“Please make me think of something else now,” Benedict pleaded, his voice tight.

“P.G. Wodehouse it is.” You smiled, grateful to have found something light and familiar.

“Brilliant.”

By the time you finished the short volume it was dark outside but the rain hadn’t let up. You could have switched on the lights but that seemed too harsh for the states you were in. The fire was a more relaxing illumination.

Your stomach rumbled, waking up after an extended period of anxiety. “We should eat something.” You had food enough to cook meals for one more day, but could scrounge for now. You trailed a hand lazily over Benedict’s cheek. “What do you want?”  He raised a brow. “Scotch. Neat.”

“You’re not drinking in your condition.” You said firmly, eliciting an exaggerated pout from him. “And neither am I. Do you have an appetite for anything solid?”

“Not really.”

“Just bread?”

You knew that would bring a light to his eyes. “With butter?”

You grinned. “Of course.” It was never a question with him. That was the one thing he would always happily eat. Setting off on another crawling journey across the floor to the kitchenette, you cobbled together your dinner. Bread, butter, a bit of cheese, a jar of olives. It would do. It was damn near continental. 

After your haphazard meal you found Benedict’s eyes drifting closed, everything about him looking utterly spent.

You held his hand in your own and kissed his bloodied knuckles. “Ben, you’re drifting off. Should you…can you sleep with a concussion?”

His eyes fluttered open, bleary. “Yes,” he mumbled. “Just wake me up every couple of hours to make sure I know my own name. Ask me some questions.”

“Alright.” You nodded, trying to ignore the spike of fear inside. What if he was hiding how he truly felt for your sake? What if he did have a concussion and got worse while he slept? What if you couldn’t wake him up again? Part of you wanted to plead with him to stay awake through the night, but it was overruled by the part that told you to trust him. Choosing hope, you squeezed his hand and laid it across his chest.

“What about you?” He was fading fast, eyes closed.

“I’m not tired,” you lied. “Get some rest.”

Then your vigil began. You set your phone alarm to go off every three hours and brewed another pot of tea. You would stay awake. If anything was compelling enough to combat your wearied body’s exhaustion, it was the need to make sure Benedict kept breathing and that he could come back to you when you woke him. You stayed at his side, studying the angles of his handsome face in the glow of the fire, grateful that he seemed to be peaceful. And you waited.

__

“Ben?”

“Mmm?”

“Where are you?”

“In Scotland.”

“Why are we here?”

“We’re on holiday.”

“Who is your eldest brother?”

“Anthony.”

“Alright, go back to sleep.”

—

“Ben?”

“Mmm?”

“Where are you?”

“In the mountains.”

“Why are we here?”

“I wanted to paint.”

“Where did you take me on our second date?”

“I said, ‘What do you say we go to Marseille?’”

“Yes, it was awful of you. I finally committed to you and then you said cheesy mad shit like that.”

“But you came with me.”

“I did.”

“And you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did. Go back to sleep.”

—

The third time you woke him, the light was turning grey outside and the rain had weakened to fits of spray. It was the day of your rescue. You just had to wait a few more hours. You decided you should probably wake Benedict for good.

“Ben?” You ran your hands through his hair, coaxing him back.

“Mmm?” 

He had awoken so easily each time, it was reassuring.

“Where are you?”

“I’m with you,” he slurred.

Your heart faltered, touched by his response but also concerned at its vagueness. 

“And who am I?”

Even though his eyes remained closed, his lips tilted into a small smile. “You’re the love of my life.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Exhaustion, fear, relief and love heaping upon one another.

Your voice trembled. “Where are we both right now?”

“We’re stuck in the bloody bothy.” He spat.

You chuckled, running your thumb over his forehead. He seemed to be lucid. “Why are we here?”

“I wanted to ask you,” he sighed, sounding almost as if slipping back into sleep.

You were confounded. “Ask me what?”

At last his eyes blinked open, settling on you with the steady, blue-grey stare that you could drown in. 

“Get my coat.” 

Still confused, you did as he asked, pulling his coat from the side of the sofa and handing it to him. It was only when he began rummaging through the pockets that realization struck and you froze. Time seemed to slow as he finally pulled out a small box and tossed the coat aside. He pried the lid open and brought it to rest on his bruised chest so that you were staring face first at a silver ring twined with a sapphire and pearls.

“Ask you to be my wife.” He declared, that timeless cheeky grin lighting his face. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t move. You weren’t sure if you were delirious with exhaustion or dreaming. He continued. “The hike was to an overlook. The landscape I painted that you love so much? I wanted to ask you there. I’m sorry we didn’t make it.”

Everything was falling into place. His insistence on this holiday. The uncharacteristic request for a hike. He had meant it to be one of the most memorable days of your life. It had certainly turned out that way, but not in the expected fashion.

Entirely ignoring the beautiful ring, you pulled him into a kiss.

“Oh, Ben.” You weren’t sure if you were laughing or crying or about to faint. You just needed to have him close.

He nuzzled his nose against yours, trying to convey as much affection as he could while not being able to move.

“This isn’t how I wanted it to be, but I need to ask you before anything else goes wrong.”

You stared back at him in alarm. “Nothing else is going to go wrong. Don’t you dare say that.”

He only smiled, devastating with his boyish grin and the cheerful crinkles around his bright eyes. 

“So? Will you?”

“Yes! Yes, of course I will.” Your words were muffled into his lips as you kissed him again, hands wound tight into his hair, never wanting to let go. You didn’t feel tired anymore. You didn’t feel your pain. All you felt was him. Even now he smelled so wonderful, tasted so wonderful. He was light and certainty. He felt like home. 

When you managed to pry yourself off of him, his eyes were glittering. He plucked the ring from its box and slid it onto your shaking hand.

“In sickness and in health.” He beamed. “I think we’ve already covered that bit.”

“Yes, we have.” You fell upon him again, breathless, everything fading behind the reality that he would be yours forever. It was a twist of fortune you’d never feel worthy of.

A few hours later you were snogging rather ferociously when someone began pounding on the door. It was emergency services. Just as Benedict had foretold, the bothy owners had seen the rockslide and sent help. He was infuriatingly correct in that way most of the time. A team of people dressed in yellow bandaged you both further and expressed surprise as how well you had handled yourselves under the circumstances. The rubble would take too long to be cleared but with specialty equipment they carried you expertly over to safety and into awaiting ambulances.

Your tallied damage was three leg fractures, three forehead stitches, three broken ribs and no concussion. ‘Symmetrically maimed’ as Benedict proudly announced to your family members who sped up to Scotland to collect you. In the subsequent weeks everyone was so busy fluttering around your injuries that no one noticed your ring finger. You and Benedict made a game of it, placing bets on who would be the first. You won the bet when three weeks in, Violet suddenly clamped eyes on your left hand and started yelping. Then added to the endless questions about your harrowing tale of survival, you were peppered with questions about wedding plans. Muscling through each day as a couple of lovesick invalids, you hadn’t found time to make any, but you had agreed on one thing. No matter where you went on honeymoon, hiking would not be on the itinerary.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @faye-tale

[trailblazethegalaxy]

Old Books ~ *Dan Heng*

Summary: You're looking for a new book to read, so you decide to see if Dan Heng has any. This leads to the two of you engaging in a debate about books and languages to learn...

Pairing: Dan Heng X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 582

Warning: Dan Heng is a bit OOC. This is an AU to the highest degree.

Masterlist

“All I’m saying is Don Quixote was not that great of a book.” You shrugged, perusing one of Dan Heng's many bookshelves.

“And I’m saying you’re absolutely wrong.” He shook his head. “Don Quixote is a charming novel I found on Terra. It was funny and thought provoking at the same time.”

"I never thought I'd live to see the day you call a novel funny, especially one from Terra." You shake your head with a teasing smile.

He shot you a glare. "Forgive me for not being textbooks and calculations all the time."

You held your hands up in mock surrender. "I never said that! But I’m sorry. I just found Don Quixote boring.”

Dan Heng scoffed. “Let me guess. You liked those Jane Austen and Brontë novels instead, didn’t you?”

You looked over at him, horrified. “Oh hell no! Wuthering Heights was worse than Don Quixote by a long shot! Heathcliff was the absolute worst!”

He smirked and shook his head. “You’re correct in that observation. I never understood how writers from that age thought those stories were romantic. Are there any classical novels from Terra you do like?”

You paused to think. “Good question. Well, I think the Count of Monte Cristo was really good, one of my favorites actually. A Tale of Two Cities is also pretty good. And I did enjoy reading Anna Karenina and War and Peace.”

One of his eyebrows perked up. “You read War and Peace?”

“More like I skimmed through it.” You mumbled, letting out an awkward giggle. 

Dan Heng shook his head again. “You should read it some time. I think you might enjoy it after you get past all the fluffy 19th century language.”

“I’ll be sure to look into it if I can find it. You never clean up around here. It makes it hard to find anything in this place.”

“Everything has a place and everything is in its place.” He reminded you, his voice sharp.

You rolled your eyes, before muttering under your breath. “Yeah well it seems the place for everything is all over the floor.”

“I heard that!”

All you could do was laugh and hope he didn’t kill you. However, after digging through the shelves some more, you were surprised when he handed you a large book with the words War and Peace printed on the front. You took it, surprised that it felt lightweight despite how big it was.

“Found it.”

“So you did.”

As Dan Heng went back to looking for a new book to read, which was easier said than done, he asked, “So, what’s the oldest book you’ve read?”

“Hmm, probably the Epic of Gilgamesh.”

He nodded. “Not a bad little epic. But I’ve read books older than that.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Of course you have. It's your thing. You love reading books from way back when and from all over the universe. You can probably read every language in the universe and understand it. Even dead languages!”

“Well, I could teach you some if you’d like.” He shrugged.

You perked up. “Please? There are so many cool languages I’d love to learn and use to both impress and scare people with.”

He laughed. “Alright. Pick a language and we’ll start learning when we both have time.”

Nodding, you added smoothly. “You better be prepared for all the love notes in multiple languages I’m going to send you when we're traveling through planets.”

He sighed. "I don't doubt it."

[fallingforunrealisticromance]

Dream Lord? - 11th doctor x reader

Summary: Based around the end of the 'Amys Choice' Episode. S5 Ep7. A/N: One of my favourite episodes not only because we get to see how much Amy really cares for Rory but also theres something about the darker side of 11 that i love to see.

Warnings: mentions of sexual content, swearing

Word count: 2094

Requests

------------------------------------------------------------------------------My head pounded as I opened my eyes. Everything was a blur.

“Psychic pollen” the doctors voice cut through my ears as I rubbed my eyes allowing my vision to clear. “That’s what that was. Come on, up you get.” I felt a hand wrap itself round my arm, pulling me up. “You’re alright. Nothings broken.” He said, grinning at me. I rubbed my head, noticing the glowing specks in his hands.

“What are they?” Amy said, walking down the stairs with Rory behind her.

“As I was saying, psychic pollen. Originated from the Candle Meadow of the Karass Don Slava.” He explained.

“That’s a lot of words to process after everything.” I grumbled.

“Oh, you poor thing.” The doctor replied sarcastically.

“Rude.” I replied, smiling at him. He made is way over to the Tardis doors, blowing the pollen out into space.

“It must have been caught in the console, it heated up and put us all in some sort of psychic trance” He explained, coming to stand next to me resting against the console. I rested my head against him, still feeling tired even though by the sounds of it I’d just had to deepest sleep of them all.

“So those specks, they were the dream lord?” Rory asked.

“What? Oh, no. no I thought it was obvious, the dream lord was me. The pollen pulls on the darkest part of you and gives it a voice.”

The three of us looked at him, unsure of how to respond. My heart sunk for him. All those things the dream lord had said about the doctor, they were all his own thoughts.

“But all those things he said, you don’t actually believe them do you?” Amy said light-heartedly.

The doctor didn’t respond, he just stared at her. Oh my god. He genuinely believed it. All of it.

“Now Amy, a question is about to occur to Rory and seeing as the answer will probably change his life, you should give him your full attention. Me and Y/n will get out of your hair for a moment. Come along, y/l/n” The doctor said, pushing Amy towards Rory and dragging me along behind him down one of the many corridors.

“how do you think that discussions gonna go” I asked light-heartedly.

“Well, I assume very well. And knowing them its probably going to be filled with lots of kissing afterwards. I honesty do not know how they do it for so long.” The doctor replied as we entered the library.

“Everyone loves a good make out session.” I said, flopping down on the sofa.

“Do they?” He asked, sitting beside me. I lifted my legs, resting them on his lap.

“Oh come on your telling me 907 years and you’ve never….dabbled.” I suggested.

The doctors face went red as he fidgeted with his bowtie. “Well, I mean…you know…I’ve been around.” I laughed at his reaction.

“Anyway, we aren’t talking about me. Now books, books are fun.” He leant forward and grabbed a book from the table in front of us. “Alice in wonderland, what a classic.”

“Oh one of my favourites.” I beamed. “Read it would you?” The doctor glanced at me.

“you want me to read to you?” He seemed rather surprised.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” He smiled at me as he opened the page. He began to read. Before long his voice faded, I could still hear him of course, but my mind was elsewhere – no longer focusing on the individual words.

“There’s no one in the world that hates me more than you do” The words from earlier swam around my mind. I always knew the doctor had a darker side to him than he let on, but I don’t think I realised quite how deep rooted his self-hatred was. And it hurt to know. I gazed at him, taking in his features. One of his hands rested on my legs occasionally raising to turn the page as the other held the book. His jaw flexed with every word. His eyes, darting over the words quicker than mine ever could. He was beautiful. In more ways than one. Not just physically, but his soul. Everything he does for others, the impact he has – and he can’t even see it himself. I was too lost in thought to notice the doctor had book the down.

“Everything okay over there y/L/n?” He asked, sounding slightly cautious. My eyes snapped to meet his. I loved it when he used my last name.

“I’m all good Doctor” I said, offering him a smile but he didn’t seem convinced.

“Is my reading boring you?” He joked.

“What? No, never. I was…thinking” I replied.

“Oh, that’s never a good thing to do” I chuckled at his comment, but he could tell it wasn’t sincere. “What’s bothering you?” He asked, resting both hands gently against my legs. I chewed my lip slightly, unsure of how to approach it. I didn’t want to upset him. But he needed to know. I took a deep breathe before answering.

“Those things, that the dream lord said. About you.” I said slowly. The doctors’ eyes flickered with an emotion I couldn’t quite place.

“That’s how you feel about yourself” I stated, looking at him for confirmation. He looked down before nodding slightly. I pulled my legs from his lap, moving so I was sat in front of him.

“I don’t know if anything I am about to say will help, but you need to know how wrong you are about yourself.” His brow furrowed as he looked at me again.

“You are more wonderful than you know. The care you hold in your heart for people is a beautiful thing doctor. You do a thousand things a day to save the universe and never ask for anything in return. Think about how many lives you have saved, how many civilizations are still growing, thriving because of you. The impact you have had on the people around you is magical thing. You make people want to be better. Not just for you, but for themselves. You show people a better way to live.” I was rambling at this point, but it was all true. I hoped he could feel the sincerity of my words.

He looked hurt but not necessarily in a bad way, almost as if he’d never been spoken to in such a civil manner before.

“But the people I lose, the people who die because of me.” He choked on his words slightly as his eyes began to water. I cupped his face in my hands.

“None of those are your fault doctor. Please believe me. Anyone who knows you will agree with me when I say you are not a bad person. You never want for these things to happen. And, with no disrespect, you are one man. One man trying to keep the universe from imploding. So I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job.” I said, smiling at him. He smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I know you aren’t perfect. I know that you have done things you would regret.” I began, pulling my hands from him. He looked surprised as I continued.

“You believe there’s a darkness in you. And maybe there is. But the same can be said for me. Or Amy. Or anyone you’ve ever known. There are things I’ve done, people I’ve hurt that make me hate myself more than you know. And while I am not claiming to understand or even feel the way your darkness sits on your soul; I do know that just because it’s there doesn’t mean you are controlled by it.” I let my words hang in the air.

The doctor stared at me in a way he never had before. Almost as if he was seeing me for the first time.

“I just want you to know you aren’t alone in this. And you don’t always have to be so brave. Because the people who care for you will be here to get you through it. The people who love you – Amy, Rory, River – they will remind you of the light.” I smiled softly at him. He reached forward, threading his fingers through mine.

“And you?” He asked gently.

“I will be here until you order me away. It’s not so easy to walk away from the man you love, even if he is an alien.” I chuckled to myself before realising what I had said. Fuck. How did I let that slip out. My hand tensed in his as my eyes widened. My breathing quickened. I needed to say something. Anything. Nothing came to my mind.

“What did you say?” The doctor asked, sounding breathless. Shit fucking shit.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. Well I meant it as in that’s how I feel but you weren’t supposed to know.” I pulled my hand from his as I stood up and began pacing. “Just forget I said anything. I’m sorry. I know relationships aren’t really a thing for you. Fuck, I’m so embarrassing.” I ran my fingers through my hair, not noticing how close the doctor was stood behind me. I felt his large hands plant themselves just above my hips, turning me to face him.

“y/n?” He said quietly. I stared at him, my arms hanging awkwardly by my side. “Be quiet” And with that he leant in, softly placing his lips against mine.

It didn’t last long, but it was sweet. He pulled back scanning my expression for any sign of regret. I stared back at him. Before he could pull away any further, I grabbed his face bringing his lips back to meet mine. This was a lot more passionate as I leant against his chest, grasping at his shirt. The doctor wrapped one of his arms tightly around my waist, the other finding a home at the back of my head pushing me further into him.

Our lips melded together perfectly. I had always imagined kissing the doctor, but I never knew he would be such a pro. But then again, with nine hundred years of experience, should I have expected any less? His lips were effortlessly beautiful. He moved back until his legs hit the edge of the sofa, causing us to pull apart for a second. We were grinning at each other like children.

“Told you everyone enjoys a make out session.” I said cheekily, before pushing him onto the sofa and climbing on top of him. He laughed slightly before attaching his lips back to mine. I threaded my fingers through his hair pulling gently, causing a small groan to erupt from the doctor. My heart jumped at the sound. I could feel his hands gripping against my waist, holding onto me as if he was scared I would disappear.

We broke apart to catch our breath, but the doctor leant forward, kissing my neck. I held his head as I leant mine back allowing him more access as I breathed heavily.

“I love you too by the way.” The doctor breathed. I chuckled, only now clocking the fact he hadn’t said it before.

“Well that is good to know time lord.” I replied, pulling his head from neck.

“I’m so lucky to have found you.” He whispered, gazing into my eyes. I planted one last soft kiss against his lips.

“What the fuck” Amy’s voice came from the doorway. Our heads snapped round to see the ponds staring at us. Rory’s mouth hung open, unsure where to look. Amy had a glint of joy in her eyes, her arms folded across her chest.

“Hello” I said sheepishly.

“How long has this been going on for then?” Amy quizzed.

“I’d say about 5 minutes?” I replied, looking down at the doctor who looked rather flustered. His hair was a mess, his face flushed a soft shade of pink.

“Well. It’s about damn time.” Amy said clapping her hands together.

“What do you mean?” The doctor asked.

“Do you know how painful it’s been watching the two of you pine for each other all this time?” She replied laughing. The doctor and I swapped a look.

“Was it really that obvious?” I chuckled.

“YES” Amy yelled.

“To be honest it did seem to be like the only two who did know it was the pair of you.” Rory added.

“Well, I’d agree with Amy then, it’s about time.” The doctor commented, smiling up at me.

“I think so too.” I replied, kissing his lips once more.

[sc0tters]

Sometimes Ain’t Enough | Joel Hofer

summary: when Joel’s desires to protect your relationship almost causes it to end.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing.

word count: 1.29k

authors note: just like that the goalie dedication is over! To those who wanted it and loved it thank you, and to those who are looking forward to regular content again you’ll see it tomorrow!

Being Don Granato’s kid was meant to come with its privileges.

Sure you were brought to events that you could have only ever dreamed about as a kid and you wouldn’t have met Joel without your dad. But somehow not being able to tell anyone about your boyfriend made you want to scream from the rooftops.

At the beginning you thought you wouldn’t mind, in a way hiding him in your bedroom when your dad came to visit in the mornings. The thrill of only being allowed to mark him in places that couldn’t be seen instilled you with a level of power that you never thought was possible.

But after six months of this and not being able to even offer a peep of who you were seeing to any of your friends, it was causing this fairytale to turn into a nightmare. You did love your boyfriend but now you were feeling like his side piece rather than his partner.

Even the boys teased Joel as they couldn’t understand how the man was still single. Yet as he failed to mention that there was a girl he went home to, you struggled to bite your tongue and not let it get to you.

But tonight as you both hung out with the team your patience was spread thin watching him talk to one of the girls that had been in the bar “you know if you like him that much you should just tell him.” Owen announced leaning against the table as he snapped his fingers in front of your face to break the glare you were sending Joel.

It should have made you laugh but instead it frustrated you “I don’t think he’d care for that statement.” You sighed stirring your straw in your drink “he’s not one for caring about what I think.” You added not wanting to think about the many arguments that came from you thinking Joel didn’t respect you.

You sighed wanting to pull the hair out of your hair as Joel’s fingertips clenched around the kitchen counter “I can’t pretend anymore Joel.” You mumbled looking at the ground causing him to walk around to where you sat “baby.” His hands were soft as he cupped your cheeks.

Joel had always been taller than you but as you were on the bar stool he was closer to you than normal “I love you, you know that right?” He asked as you let your thumb brush over his waist when you nodded “then just trust me and accept that this isn’t the right time to tell people.” Joel had just gotten back into your fathers good books and he didn’t think that announcing that you were the girl in his bed was going to do him any good at the moment.

Just like normal you accepted defeat, maybe even a little too quick for anyone’s liking “I guess you’re right.” Your voice was soft as he kissed your head “thanks for being so understanding.” Each time Joel described you as understanding and before you did agree with him.

But now you felt stupid and hopeless as you stared at your boyfriend who had barely spoken to you that night “look if you’re really that upset we can go.” Owen quickly became your friend when you two were introduced to each other. He knew everything about you besides for just what Joel was to you “maybe it’s for the best.” you mumbled nodding as Owen wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

It didn’t take Joel long to notice how you hid under your friends arms “I’ll be right back.” Joel didn’t even wait for the people he was having a conversation with to respond as he walked off trying to be hot on your tails.

The air in Buffalo was humid as it made the change from summer to fall as some of the trees saw their leaves beginning to turn crispy “y/n you’re leaving?” Joel called out letting the bar door shut behind him “didn’t think you’d care.” The venom in your voice told Owen that he was missing something in this conversation.

Owen frowned standing to the side “it’s not my fault you didn’t want to talk to those guys.” Joel shot back causing the umich alumni to awkwardly clear his throat “I’ll wait inside for you.” He pointed to the door as you nodded “you see what you did!” You complained pointing to the shutting door.

Joel laughed as he crossed his arms “you think I’m gonna give a fuck scaring your boy toy off?” With each word he took a step closer to you as you took one back until your back was pressed up against a car and suddenly the distance between you both was gone.

His hands gripped at your waist “Owen has a name and he’s not my boy toy!” You hated how Joel seemed to be enjoying this as he smirked “so what is he then?” Whatever Joel was hinting to irritated you as it caused you to reach up and hit him.

Your hand as stopped as his goalie reflexives came into favour as it worked for him “he’s my friend who kept me company because you were a little busy.” You pressed your finger into his chest.

Honestly you were close to blaming the alcohol for how angry you were but you knew that he root cause was the man in front of you “would have dropped it for you.” Those words were true as Joel had missed you during the night.

But the idea of walking over to you as you wore a pretty red dress only made him want to rip it off of your body, only resulting in the outcome of you two getting caught so instead he stayed away “do you even actually want to be my boyfriend?” The words let your mouth quicker than you could have thought about the gravity that held.

It made Joel stare at you in silence almost a little surprise that you had it in you to ask him that “because beyond the walls of my apartment-” Joel cut you off pressing his lips against yours. He tugged his fingers through your hair as he let his frustrations out on your lips.

His tongue traced over your lower lip making you whine “you’re. so. fucking. addictive.” With each word Joel pecked your lips making you melt in his touch further “you don’t act like that though.” You frowned as the goalie let his hands rest on your shoulders.

Frustration filled his mind as Joel clicked his tongue “you think that this is easy for me?” He sighed letting his fingers pinch at your jaw “almost told your dad you were the reason I was late to practice last week.” Joel’s confession made your cheeks turn red as you remembered convincing him to join you in the shower before he had practice.

As a breeze brushed past you both you whined “let’s go home baby.” He pleaded squeezing your hand as the flannel he was wearing quickly dropped from his body wrapping over your shoulders instead “and tomorrow when you get coffee with your dad tell him about us.” Those words made your eyes light up as you gasped.

He smiled seeing the improvement in your mood “you really mean that?” Your grin had your lower lip getting caught between your teeth “yeah baby.” Joel nodded letting his arm wrap around your shoulders “bout time the world sees who you are to me.” He explained kissing your head as you two walked back down the street to the car.

[thesparklingwriter]

taking fate into one's own hands

05—compromise

Word count: 1.5k

navi | taglist | masterlist

Morax does not press you for a response as to what you plan to do regarding your shopping. A day passes and if he's honest, he finds it strange that you choose to silently cope with the little you have rather than reach out to him and ask for help. In fact, the help you brought with you seems to be more comfortable in the new surroundings than you are, fitting perfectly in with the staff.

“She will not engage with me.” Morax says to a frustrated Xiao, running a hand through his untied hair. A few unread letters litter his otherwise pristine desk, and the sleeves of his casual gear displace them further as he moves them out of his eyeline. His statement, despite not having the intended effect, is meant to calm Xiao somehow—to show him that the current lack of progress is not from a lack of trying. “I cannot help a person who does not desire it.”

“Then you should consider engaging with her.” Xiao’s hands remain firmly clasped behind his back. Morax might not be as much of a stickler for tradition as many think, but in situations like these, it’s best to err on the side of caution. Especially when Xiao is telling him something that he very likely does not want to hear.

“It is not my intention to smother her. She does not have to like me.” Morax says through gritted teeth. “We do not have to be friends.”

Xiao pointedly ignores the tension in the king’s frame. Perhaps he isn't lying, and he truly does not care whether you like him or not, but the origin of the king’s frustration is a topic of his curiosity.

“Some might say you are as stubborn as she is. Perhaps you might use that similarity to understand what she is experiencing.” 

Morax looks at Xiao properly then, and Xiao expects to hear a light-hearted reprimand, but it does not come. Instead, he hears a quiet, defeated, exhale.

Alanna too, finds herself curious at your actions. You have been taking your meals in your room after the dinner you had with his majesty, and if she had not known that you were out of fresh clothes to wear, she might have assumed that he had offended you somehow.

“Your Highness,” she starts, but the look you give her from across the room cuts her off.

“Please speak freely. I no longer possess the title you address me with.” you say quietly, sitting up from your sprawled position on your bed.

Alanna clears her throat. “Is spending time with the king so agonising that you’d rather don the same sleep gown for consecutive days than be with him?”

You sigh and close the cover of the book Alanna had kindly found for you whilst exploring the grounds. “I do not enjoy relying on others. If I were to go out to town, I would be forced to wear what I wore when we arrived. I will not be caught in such a predicament.”

In Alanna's opinion, your thought process will not serve you in the long term. In fact, the longer you spend refusing to leave, the harder it will be to express your needs when push ultimately comes to shove.

“Perhaps you ought to take the steps necessary to make your time here more agreeable.” Alanna notes the glare you send her way and sighs. “I am not suggesting you seduce him.”

“And I thank the Archons for that.”

“But I am suggesting that you use this opportunity to make a friend.”

“I do not lack friends.” You reply petulantly. However, having grown up with Alanna, you know you cannot conceal the truth from her. You had never truly ventured out of the palace’s territory unless it was on royal excursions, be it recreational or for charitable deeds. Perhaps you thought you were friends with the palace staff, but they likely thought of you as the child of their employer and nothing more than that, regardless of how friendly you were.

“Count them.” Alanna smiles. “And you are not to include me.”

Alanna chuckles at your silence, and the petulant look on your face as you try and fail to count a single friend you have. “Perhaps you might consider making your first friend today.” Alanna starts. You know where she’s going wit this and you glance at her incredulously. “He is not poisonous.”

“But he is unpredictable. He claims he does not want me as his wife, yet he invites me to dinner. He claims he will protect my family anyhow, yet will not allow me to remain with them. He is contrary, and that scares me.”

Alanna can’t help but stare at you. You are a completely different woman from the one who left her home less than a week ago. You never would have dared to utter the words you are now. You would have chosen instead to hold it in until your dying breath and never mention your feelings to anyone. And although she wishes she could have been the person to bring out this side of you and not him, she is glad that it has happened. Before Alanna can comment on this, there’s a knock at the door, and she excuses herself to the bathroom.

“Who is it?” you call out, adjusting your robe. It is unseemly to answer a door in such a state of disarray, but when you’re insisting on being this stubborn, there’s nothing else that can be done.

“Do you have visitors here often enough that you feel the need to differentiate between each one?” Morax replies, and you scowl at him from behind the door. If you had opened the door, you might have noticed the mirth and teasing in his eyes. Why must he have an answer for everything? Your silence seems to say enough to him, and he continues to speak. “Forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but I am concerned for you. It is not healthy to be confined in your room for such a long period of time.”

“You are concerned for my wellbeing?”

“Yes.”

“You were not worried when you removed me from my home.” You hiss. Perhaps you are lucky that you cannot open the door in your current state of undress, for uttering these words to his face might have proved difficult. “You were not worried when you bought me like bread in a marketplace.”

“You seem to misunderstand my actions.”

“What is there to misunderstand? You claim you will take care of my kingdom regardless of whether I marry you or not, but yet, I am still here. What good does it serve you to house a woman you have no intention of marrying? Do you not see how that might cause someone discomfort?”

“The situation is tense. It is not my place to speak on a subject that does not concern me.”

“You cannot tell me the reason why I have been uprooted from my home, but you can pester me incessantly. You claim it does not concern you, but here I am, in your territory.” you scoff. 

“I am not in a position where I can tell you the information you are asking of me. I apologise. However, I cannot allow you to rot in your room out of hatred for me. I do not ask that you conceal or manipulate your feelings towards me, but I ask that you don't allow them to cause you harm.”

“My feelings cannot harm me anymore than you would.”

Morax’s sigh is exasperated, tired. He cannot reason with someone who does not want to be reasoned with. But he cannot allow you to return home any time soon, and when you can return, your people will need you more than ever. It is in your best interests that he provides you a place to thrive. And that he will do. He will succeed. He has never once failed before.

“I understand that your assistant has requested some clothes for you. My reason for being here is to deliver them to you.” Aside from the fact that you’re surprised Alanna was comfortable enough with others in the palace already to ask for such things from you, you’re surprised that the request was passed to the king himself. Surely a task like this is below his pay grade.

“Am I to believe that you don’t pay people to cover such menial tasks?”

“You are to believe that I do not have any ill will towards you.” He says lowly. “And if I had, you would have fallen victim to it already.”

His words render you silent as you consider them. It makes sense. Despite all the inconsistencies and things you don't understand, this line of reasoning makes sense to you. Is he truly just doing this out of the kindness of his own heart? Is he that kind of person?

You sigh heavily and open the door. Morax extends the package of clothes out to you, and you thank him. Perhaps if you weren't so occupied with your thoughts, you might have noticed the way his eyes scan you, taking stock of everything to make sure you truly aren't harmed.

“While I understand your desire to remain cautious—” He starts, but you cut him off.

“You are right. I was being unreasonable.” You hold the clothes to your chest.

“Those are not the words I would have used,” Morax chuckles, and the sound is so new to you that you forget what you were about to say. His expression softens slightly, and you find yourself looking at a version of him that you haven't seen before. “I have finished my duties for today, so if you wish to have a look around the palace or the harbour, I would be happy to accompany you. Or if you’d rather not—”

notes: the problem with me is that everything i write goes slightly to the left so although reader TECHNICALLY expressed a desire to go shopping on her own she didn't cause no clothes

Taglist: @tartigglez @ainescribe @blue-sapphire-ink

[truths33k3r4]

CHAPTER 24 - Hard Words to Swallow

It had been a regular mission.

Not even the kick-butt kind, but a treasure hunt; Picking up a few trinkets from the scrapyard for one of Don’s stupid inventions. 

The goal was simple:

Retrieve the junk, maybe stop to get pizza, then head home.

How could his brothers mess up something so easy.

Leo, for once in his frickin life, didn’t even make a plan to follow. 

 “ Ok, you guys can do this- " The eldest stated mostly to himself, " Raph, keep an eye out at all times. Remember you can't be seen- and Don.. Keep an eye on Raph. “ 

Mikey watched from the couch as Don slung a satchel over his head, securing it on his freckled shoulder. Raph grabbed his twin sais and twirled them in his fingers, like a total showoff, before smoothly clicking them into place by the magnets on his belt. His crimson clad brother rolled his eyes and pushed Don through the door.

 “ Yeah- yeah- Be careful. Don’t get caught. Don’t die… Sheesh man, you’re starting to sound like Sensei… “ 

Mikey shot up swinging his arms in the air wildly.

 “ - And don’t you dare eat all the pizza!!! “ 

Had Mikey known these would be his last words to his brothers, he would've chosen them far more wisely.

Mikey had been waiting for hours. His foot tapped on the ground faster and faster as anticipation took over him. His hands held one of the brothers’ many prized comic books, but his eyes would constantly shift to the main entrance of the lair. He specifically had chosen Raphael’s favorite comic to read knowing full-well, ( and counting on ), the fact that his brother would completely lose his top at just the thought of Mikey touching his mint-condition, extremely rare Sumo Wrestlers comic.

It will be legendary.

Mikey made sure to keep his phone at the ready by his side. He had even practiced the motions of grabbing his phone, clicking a few buttons, and taking a photo. He had to be ready. Once Raph saw what he was doing- there was only one chance to snag a pic before Mikey had to start running for his life.

Like he said. Legendary.

Eventually, after Mikey finished re- re- re- reading Raph’s prized comic, Leo had walked into the Living Room. His eyes were a bit more tense than usual as he paced up and down the carpet on the stairs to the lair’s entrance.

“ Where the heck are they?? This is way past their curfew… “

Mikey groggily lifted his head from the way past boring comic.

“... Huh?.. “ 

Leo turned to his youngest brother with a ‘ Haven’t you been paying attention? ‘ look. Mikey shrugged. Leo sighed as he dropped his shoulders. Classic.

“ Mikey, it’s been hours. And they still aren’t back yet. “

Leo raised his eyebrows expectantly hoping Mikey would catch on to what he was saying. 

His youngest brother just stared with drooping eyes. A yawn caused his arms to rise into the air as he stretched, releasing a relaxed sigh as he fell back into the soft cushions.

“.. So…. no pizza then?... “

“ Mikey! This is serious! They should’ve checked in by now.. A text- a call- something.”

Leo began scrolling through all his messages after swiping his phone from the back pocket of his shell.

“.. There’s been nothing but radio silence since they left…..

..I never should have let them go off on their own, maybe they weren’t ready.. “

Mikey watched the oldest’s ice blue eyes dart through the texts. His brother’s shoulders continued to raise in a defensive position. 

 If he keeps this up, he’ll have a stress chasm in three seconds flat… 

Mikey groaned as he lifted his back away from the cushions, and then proceeded to flip backwards over the rim of the couch, landing perfectly on his right leg with his arms held out.

Well. Almost..

A deep ache reawakened in his ankle by the force of his landing. He yelped as his hands shot down from their position in the air, wrapping around the slowly darkening area. Without his arms to keep balance, and the pain stealing every brain cell’s attention that he had left, he quickly found himself watching the ground get closer and closer.

 I. Am. So. Dead. 

As he hit the floor, his ears picked up the sound of rapidly progressing footsteps. 

 I’m dead- I’m DEAD- I’m SOOOO DEAD. 

Mikey twitched a little at the sensation of his brother’s freezing cold hands touching his arms.  

SERIOUSLY, what’s with doctors always having ice cubes for hands?!?! 

“ Mikey! What were you thinking?!?! “

The youngest brother was kinda too busy to answer, as his ankle faded from a vibrant green to a greyish blue. 

 MAN ALIVE I forgot how much this hurt.

The younger turtle lifted his head from his plastron the tiniest bit, and gave a strained, 

“....Ouch…. “

Leo sighed and nodded his head back and forth as he rubbed his brothers’ shell.

“.. How bad? “

Mikey tried to move his foot.

Mikey never should have tried to move his foot. 

Leo flinched as his brother choked out a sharp gasp, clutching his ankle tighter.

“.. Ok! Ok- don’t move it!.. Let me help you up. “ 

The oldest didn’t hesitate as he lifted Mikey up bridal style, and walked to the couch. Even with all the pain making a mess of his brain, Mikey still put a few brain cells to work wondering how Leo can hold him so easily, even after eating three pizzas, six corndogs, and eight.. no, nine donuts today.

Being carried was so.. normal for Mikey. Almost as normal as his daily squabbles with Raph. Maybe it was just his right as the youngest. He was the cutest and most lovable out of his brothers, hands down. For as long as he could remember, no one has been able to resist his big beautiful blue eyes, so getting carried everywhere was always in the bag. There was a soothing comfort he always felt as he was being carried. His brothers’ plastrons were always so warm as they held him close, and even now at thirteen years old, he had to resist the urge to nuzzle his nose underneath their necks. When he turned eleven, he was told that he was too old for that. Sooo apparently, you shouldn’t like being warm and comfortable when you become a teen. Nice wisdom there, Raph. 

Mikey was brought out of his thoughts as Leo gently placed him down onto the couch. 

“ ..Can’t believe… stinkin’ one legged flip-  “ the eldest mumbled to himself as he carefully placed one of the fluffiest pillows underneath Mikey’s foot.

Mikey lifted his head as Leo got up and began walking to the kitchen.

“ Don’t. Move. “ The eldest called out with a pointed finger raised as he speedwalked to the fridge.

Mikey could hear the sounds of the freezer door being opened, and then some scratchy movements of some kind of bag. More footsteps followed, getting louder and louder as Leo returned to his brother’s side.

 Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. ~ 

Mikey couldn’t hold back the shiver that tensed his body as a bag of frozen broccoli was placed on his ankle. It didn’t feel.. amazing, but he knew it would help with the swelling. Been there, done that.

“ How does that feel? “ Leo asked, as he comfortingly rubbed Mikey’s right knee.

“ Not…very… good.. “ Mikey squeezed out, as his teeth started chattering from the cold.

Leo gave a sympathetic smile as he turned around to grab the thick afghan folded underneath the coffee table. 

“ Well.. that means it’s working.. “

Mikey let out a contented sigh as the warmth of the blanket enveloped his shivering body. His ankle still hurt, and the stinkin broccoli was still freezing, but the blanket really helped. As always, Leo knew what he was doing.

Another sigh was heard in the room as Leo joined his brother on the couch. Since Mikey was laying down though, Leo made sure to leave him enough space to still be comfortable. This left Leo propping himself up on the arm of the couch, twisting and shifting until he could balance properly. Mikey failed to hold in a laugh as his brother awkwardly flapped his arms as he nearly fell off the small bit of furniture.

“ Heheh.. Here, dude. “

Mikey carefully hunched over and grabbed the fluffy pillow beneath his ankle, moving it to the coffee table standing in front of the couch. He then let out a slight hiss as he turned and placed his injured ankle back on the pillow, resulting in a quick look of concern from his anxious brother.

 With a smile, Mikey patted the empty cushion on his left. Leo gave a tired grin back as he let himself fall off the inner edge of the couch’s arm, plopping down at Mikey’s side.

“ Thanks, little bro. “

“ No probs. “

Leo’s posture changed from chill and relaxed to alert and worried in a second as he switched back to “ doc mode “.

“ What were you thinking, Mikey? You know its sensitive. You gotta be more careful. “

The youngest’s smile faded as a look of guilt subtly washed over his face.

“ I’m fine… “ he mumbled as he began picking at the breaking seams of the couch’s stitching.

Those two little words not only annoyed Leonardo, but also caused him to switch to his worst mode in times like this:

LEADER MODE.

“ Eh- Eh- Eh. None of that- “ the oldest scolded, waving the same pointed finger as earlier, “ Don’t give me any of that. I gave you orders to take it easy. It’s only been a few days since you twisted it last week. Do you call THIS- “ Leo gestured to all of Mikey, “ ..taking it easy?? “

Mikey started to open his mouth, but the eldest continued.

“- Remember what Sensei tells you. You call this being a good steward of your body?? “

Mikey’s guilty expression morphed into one he never wore. One his brothers and Sensei rarely ever saw.

“.. When was the last time you ate. “ He spoke without blinking. His eyes were glazed over with a film of bitterness as his words burned into Leo like the defensive rays of the sun.

Silence.

 Yeah, not so talkative now, are you.. 

“.. I.. was busy. “ Leo whispered, as his whole body tensed.

“ - Oh COME ON,DUDE!! “ Mikey shouted, making Leo minisculely flinch, “ That’s bogus and you know it. It’s my job to do the dishes this week- I memorize the colors of everyone’s plates. Yours is always the black one with blue rims. You picked that one since you were a kid. I never have to wash it. It’s always all NEAT and CLEAN and stacked in the cupboard. “

Leo’s expression twisted as his guilt grew.

“ The only thing I’ve seen you take a bite out of this week was my bubblegum and jalapeno pizza. And you hacked it up immediately. “

“ Oh come on!! Did you even taste that thing??? “ Leo half-heartedly chuckled, hoping that adding a joke or insulting Mikey’s cooking would distract his youngest brother.

For once, Mikey wasn’t in the mood for games.

“ -STUFF IT IN YOUR CRUST, LEO. “ The youngest growled, “ You. Aren’t. Eating. Admit it! “

“ I’m just not hungry. “ Leo shrugged as he edged closer to the arm of the couch.

“ Admit it. “

“ I have too much to do- “ The eldest's eyes strayed from Mikey's.

“ ADMIT IT. “ Mikey over-emphasized every syllable.

Leo threw his hands up in the air as he yanked himself off the couch.

“ - OK SO WHAT???!!? I don’t eat sometimes, SO THE FRICK WHAT?? “

Mikey’s glare remained steadfast and unmoving as he peered into Leo’s constricted pupils.

“.. You call that being a good steward? “ Mikey spat.

Leo’s face fell, flashing from guilt, to shame, to stubbornness.

Silence swept over the Living Room once again. But this time it didn’t carry any peace or relaxation with it. A deep weight pressed down on the two brothers, almost as if they were sinking into the ocean’s depths. Neither spoke a word as they choked and drowned in the silence.

[ BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! ]

Leo’s movements froze as the whole lair was bathed in a bright, flashing red. Mikey’s eyes darted from his phone to Leo’s face. The youngest could feel his heartbeat begin to quicken as he saw nothing but terror and anxiety flood through his brother’s expression. 

The sensation of the frozen bag settled on Mikey’s ankle couldn’t even compare to the frigid crystals of realization growing in his heart.

The Emergency alarm continued to scream its horrible song, replacing the somber emptiness with a shrilling crescendo.

... No…

That's it for this chapter. :) The art piece took FOREVER to get right, but I'm very happy with how it turned out. :) This was my first FULL FLASHBACK chapter, so it was interesting figuring out some things like pre-tense or past-tense or present-tense.. But thanks to some help from @poetique823, I think it turned out great! :)

Thanks for your help, Poet!! :)

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

A second queen  Part 1- Broken promises

Pairing: Daemon x Fem. Reader (Summer Isles) x Ashara Martel (OC character. Will appear in the parts 3 & 4)

Themes :Ansgt 

Warnings: Daemon being a jerk

Word count: 1.9k words

Summary: Your days as Daemon’s lover would soon draw to an end, and not because of marriage. What he does next will change everything for you. 

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

If you like this, please consider giving it a reblog.

It was the year 104 AC.

Westeros, under the rule of Viserys, first of his name, prospered. Trade flourished, the Dragons thrived on the Stepstones, and the Gods of Valyria were openly honoured by many.

But this tale is not about Viserys. This is a tale about his much younger brother and what he did before he donned the crown.

                                    ✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

It should have been the happiest of days. The sun was shining, spring had just arrived, and all of Kings Landing bloomed. 

Daemon had been talking of marriage, of having a family, and of you being his queen.

His queen, indeed. Daemon swore he would make you, a fatherless child from the Summer Isles, his queen, and the mother of his heirs. 

His heirs. Viserys had no son, no heir of his own, and Daemon, as his brother, was first in line to the throne. He was much younger, born when Viserys was well into adulthood and already married. Still, despite this vast age gap, the brothers loved each other deeply, and they both had a deep devotion to duty.

Alas, that devotion to duty would now undo every plan you and the prince had ever made and destroy every dream you had ever had.

"My love?" you called out when you burst into the prince's rooms, for you had something of great import to say. You stayed in the parlour, acting as if you had never gone beyond that point. As someone who was both low-born and not formally betrothed to the prince, it would have been most unseemly for you to go beyond the parlour anyway. 

There was no answer, save for hushed tones coming from another room. Daemon was here, talking to someone else. All the more reason to stay where you were. 

"Daemon?" You called out again, and this time, someone did come forward. You smiled, thinking it was the prince. 

Except that it wasn't. "Ahh! Thank goodness you came here and saved us the trouble of finding you."

Your smile died when Lord Otto Hightower, Hand to the King, made his way towards you. The man never liked you, never approved of your relationship with the prince. In fact, as you had heard, he had tried every trick in the book to persuade Daemon to leave you and marry a proper lady of recognized birth.

And Daemon himself was just a step behind him, looking more than a little forlorn, his eyes never seeking yours. He was racked with guilt. 

You looked on, confused, and then, you regained your wits and curtsied as deeply as you could. "My prince," Daemon, you addressed him first, followed by "my lord," to Otto."You were expecting me?"

"Indeed," Otto gave Daemon no chance to speak. "The prince has an important announcement to make. He is to marry soon."

Shocking indeed, but still, it made you happy as hope took root in your heart. "Really?" Daemon was making everything official. Finally. You saw visions of a beautiful wedding in the Great Sept, of Viserys walking you down the aisle and Daemon kissing you after exchanging vows. What beautiful and enchanting visions you had, and oh, how you would come to curse such dreams much later. "A strange way to propose, my prince, but I..."

Otto could barely control his laughter. "Did you think he meant you? Oh no, my dear." He dried his eyes with a small square of silk and composed himself. "The prince is betrothed to Ashara Martel, Princess Meria's daughter."

Engaged? to someone else? when he was happily making plans with you? You sputtered. "Daemon?"

Daemon didn’t look at you. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you. He knew what he was about to do would break your heart, but as his brother and Lord Otto kept saying, duty had to come first. He swallowed and dithered, his tongue tied up in knots. 

When he didn’t answer, you grew frustrated and cried, "Say something!"

"The king is ill," Otto said again, not giving Daemon a chance to respond. "And needs another heir. The prince needs to marry for this to happen."

But Daemon need not limit himself to one wife; the law actually left room for certain allowances. "But he can marry me too; take me for a second wife," you said as tears pooled in your eyes. "The law allows it."

"Indeed," Otto agreed, albeit reluctantly. "But only if there is no hope for heirs. Something the prince need not worry about, and may never need to worry about, if Ashara gives him children. And she will," he continued smugly, having finally found a way to drive a wedge between the two of you. "I am certain of it. The Martels are a most fertile family."

"But..."

"And there are no illegitimate children to think about," Otto interrupted.

Flustered, you reply with: "But that is the thing, my lord. Daemon, I'm..."

"And you are a bastard," Otto cut you off abruptly. "A union with you will bring no advantage to the crown."

It was as if you had been slapped across the face. "What?"

Otto simply smirked. "You, my dear, are a bastard from the Summer Isles. No man of high standing has claimed you as their child. You have no last name, no title, and no connections of any consequence. Marriage to you would be meaningless." He eventually turned to a humiliated Daemon. "You agree, yes?"

Daemon, thoroughly ashamed by now, couldn't bring himself to look at you. So many nights he had spent swearing undying love to you, promising to honor and protect you for the rest of his days, and now, he has to go back on his word. Duty had to come first, he was told. The people would never accept a low-born foreign queen, he was told. It could cause political instability and destroy the goodwill gathered through Viserys’ reign, he was told. This had to be done, he was told. And Daemon, not wanting to hurt his already ailing brother, did as he was told.   

"Yes," Daemon said, ashamed of what he was doing, fixed his gaze on everything but you. "I cannot wed you, y/n."

You could only listen, too stunned to speak.

"A high-born princess is an ideal bride for a prince of the realm." Daemon looked up, ever so briefly. The tears in your eyes made him hate himself even more. "And not a bastard of little importance."

Otto positively cackled and said: "You will be provided with a manse in the north..."

You sniffled when he went on to say you would be sent to frigid Bear Island. Far away from the capital and the prince. Out of sight, and out of mind. Oh, how that hurt. 

"And plenty of coin. Servants will be hired to see to your every comfort."

Daemon ached to say, "I'm sorry." He truly wanted to say, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Except for the ones Otto taught him to say, those words never came. "And you are not to look for me; you are not to write to me," Daemon added mournfully when two knights of the King's Guard marched in. Otto gestured for them to come over. "Not now, not ever."

"Daemon?" You tried to squirm away when they grabbed onto your arms, to escort you back to your rooms, and then, out of the Red Keep. "Why are you doing this?"

"This is how it should be," Daemon said simply, his gaze going back to the tiled floor.

One of the knights held on too tightly, making you yelp. Daemon remained completely unresponsive, something you were not accustomed to. "Daemon!" you cried in despair. Everything he told you was a lie. All his plans and promises were lies. All your hopes and dreams, your very world, started to crash all around you.

Daemon kept quiet, cursing himself for not being stronger for you and for putting duty before his own heart. "This is how it should be," he forced himself to say, and his own eyes started to sting.

You weren’t given another chance to speak, as the knights pulled you out with them.

                                         ✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

You were given only an hour to pack your things and leave the Red Keep. Maids were sent over to help and to hurry you along. Your eyes stung again.

It’s as if he can’t wait to be rid of me.

You swallowed as fear took root. You had no friends save for Daemon, no one who could help you. And no one would now, Otto would guarantee it.

Your fingers felt like they were all thumbs, and your knees kept shaking. Your stomach was in knots. You looked out the window, out into the city, and at an uncertain future. You didn’t know where to go or what to do. You wanted to pray, hoping that Daemon would at least honour his vow to provide for you, and then you shook your head bitterly, thinking that he would break this promise too. You picked up your things, collected what coin you had for yourself, and left for the cheapest inn you could find, someplace where you could stay until you could weigh your choices. 

And sure enough, you never heard from Daemon. Not when you begged for an audience with him; not when you sent him letters, telling him what you wanted to say that day. In fact, you had heard through the grapevine that your letters had been burned without even being opened. And Bear Island? That never happened. You certainly didn't receive a cent of what was promised you, just as you suspected. And when someone from the Red Keep did turn up, it was with a bag of coin and a letter from Otto, demanding you quit Westeros altogether. A ship was sailing for Volantis that very day, and he insisted you be on it if you knew what was good for you. 

You were too stunned to do anything but obey. Besides, what could you do anyway? You were a bastard, low-born, with no name or title to speak of. However, despite everything that happened, you still held on to a faint sliver of hope—that Daemon would ride up to the port and beg for your forgiveness, that he never wanted to lose you. He would insist on marrying you. You looked and looked, thinking he would find the courage to come for you. 

Alas, that never happened. There was no sign of him anywhere, no word, nothing. When the ship pulled out of port and set sail, you sighed and looked toward the horizon, towards a new country and a new life. 

And you later heard about the wedding and how grand it was. In the customs of Dorne and Valyria, in fire and blood, and under the light of the sun. You sighed, thinking how it should have been you, but alas, there was no point in wistful thinking now. You composed yourself, for the lady you served had come looking for you.

"Coming, my lady!" you cried when Lady Talisa Maegyr, a young lady of fourteen, showed up by the door, a bundle of new dresses in hand. "My lady," you winced, noticing the color of one particular gown. "Must I keep telling you orange is not your colour?"

"One more time," she giggled. "As always." Talisa then turned when she heard a cough. Go on, Jace," she told a little boy standing next to her, one with silver-gold hair and vivid purple eyes. "Go say good morning to your mother."

[those-late-night-feels]

Letters

Part 3

Summary: Writing everything down should help you process your feelings. Somehow it always turns into letters to him.

Warnings: Grief, angst, eventual smut.

Feb. 23

Time since you've left doesn't pass like it used to. I find myself staring out, my vision blurred at moments–grains of sand, waves crashing in, the starry night sky–spans of seconds and hours feel the same. Everything now overlaps, past with present, like a palimpsest, everywhere I look traces of you remain. You're like a ghost that haunts me and I ache for one of those visions to be real.

Are you still out there, somewhere in the vastness in front of me? I've heard the stories of your multiple deaths, only to come back again somehow. Is this another trick? Sometimes I feel like I'm going insane.

Fingertips drew lines in the sand, making patterns that would soon wash away with the tide. The cool breeze was welcomed as the sun dipped into the horizon, waiting until you could count the stars again, search for a planet (maybe two). He once told you how many different planets he had been to in his lifetime, at the time you were only half listening while studying for a mission. Did he say 200? Or was it closer to three?

As the sun's last rays passed below the curvature of the earth and the stars began to appear, it brought you back to your last mission with him. The Quinjet flew in stealth mode at dusk, and the team would arrive in Lichtenstein by nightfall.

The mission would take a few days, first surveillance and then infiltration. A hotel room was booked for you and Loki under the cover of a traveling couple.

It was cold when you arrived, the wind biting through your layers. Loki had changed appearances, donning a dark cropped haircut and a pristine suit. When he emerged from the Quinjet, he held his arm out. "Ready darling?"

Tucking a red strand of hair from the wig you wore behind your ear, you took his arm. A private car waited on the tarmac to take you to the hotel where you'd set up surveillance.

The hotel room was large, a living area, kitchenette, and a luscious separate bedroom adorned with fluffy pillows and blush roses. Sleeping arrangements ignored, you focused on setting up the surveillance, preparing for the long night ahead.

Time passed by slowly while watching with long lenses from the window, earpieces to pick up anything unusual. Loki stretched in the hard wooden chair, exasperated. "This is it, this is how I'm going to die."

You side eyed him from the surveillance lense. So dramatic. "Is this work below the means of a god?"

"I thought when they requested my skills, it would be for fighting and deception. Not whatever this is," he said, waving his hand in front of the window. "Please, regale me with tales of your life. Anything would be livelier than this!"

"I'm flattered you think my life story would be slightly less dull than this. But, I thought you already knew everything when you invaded my mind…" you said flatly, pausing to listen in on your headphones and take notes.

He pursed his lips and studied you. Adorable, trying to ignore him.

"Despite what you think, I barely touched the surface." He propped his legs up on the table in a flourish, head cradled in his hands. "Please, how is it that you've never allowed a man or woman to experience you so intimately? Do you…not have that desire?"

The clicking of keystrokes on the laptop were the only sound for a moment, focusing on a steady breath as your cheeks warmed. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of making you cringe, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. "I doubt you would understand," you said flatly.

His lips turned up in amusement, it was evident without even looking up. "Because I'm a god? Or because I'm ravishing?"

The look you gave him was less annoyed, more matter of fact. "Because I haven't found anyone that matters enough."

There was no snarky comeback, no witty retort. Had you finally silenced him for the night? You turned back to the work and attempted to focus again, the hairs on your arm standing up as you felt his stare heavy upon you.

Did you have desires…what kind of question was that? Of course you had them. But it was hard to hold onto them when everyone either disappointed you or left. Your heart was secured in an impenetrable fortress. For your own protection.

It was hours into the night when exhaustion started to weigh in, fighting the oncoming yawns and eye strain. Loki watched as you rubbed your eyes, trying to shake the need for rest. "Go lie down for a bit," he offered. "I can handle this for a few hours."

He noticed the hesitation. This mission was your baby. It was important. You continued to type up notes, another yawn, eyes straining. Your fingers stilled when the warmth of his palm rested on your wrist. He wasn't one to touch you often, and the sudden contact was a jolt to your senses.

"You need your energy for tomorrow." He spoke your name and your eyes traveled from where his hand stilled, up to his own eyes lingering above. The silence was palpable. Swallowing, you nodded and stood, only allowing an inch of space in front of him. His questioning gaze turned your stomach in knots and a nervous, tired smile crept up your face, giving a quiet thanks and slinking past him to the bedroom alone.

March 9

When it's dark and quiet and the world is still, my thoughts drift to you. It reminds me of that first night in Lichtenstein, laying in bed and you just on the other side of the closed door. Did you think about coming in that night?

I wasn't lying when I told you I hadn't found anyone that mattered enough. But I also hadn't felt someone look at me like you did. My body reacted in a way that wasn't normal. It made me confused. Uncomfortable. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed when you didn't come in that night. Instead, I was invaded by sunlight in the morning, well rested and ready for the green light to infiltrate that night.

It was a black tie event, which you took to with ease in a sharp suit and slicked hair. Even though you could dress with the flick of the wrist, you fiddled with your cufflinks when I emerged from the room, pausing to give a very obvious one-over.

And when I twirled around and asked what you thought, you gave me one word. "Ravishing." The choice of word wasn't lost on me.

Loki had turned, moving with a determined pace like a wild animal in hunt of prey. Frozen in place, his abrupt movement left you transfixed.

The crackling on your earpiece made you jump and Loki stilled, close enough to feel him near you, but not enough that he would step back. "Alright team," the voice in your earpiece said. "We are T-minus 30 for all positions in place. Do you copy? Over."

You quickly reached to your earpiece and copied, like a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. But Loki was much slower, enjoying how you almost squirmed under his gaze. "Copy," he said, his eyes never breaking yours, then to you, "Are you ready to play?"

The event, a charity ball for high profile elites and government officials, was held in a 13th century castle overlooking a lake. Ancient stone walls, moss covered bridges, candle lit chandeliers–if you weren't on a mission, you'd think this was quite a romantic night.

The mission was complex–accessing an official's credentials via their fingerprint and facial recognition, Loki would need to get in close to the subject before he'd be able to use his magic to mimic. After bypassing security, you'd access a main database on the locations of children who were kidnapped and currently being prodded and tested into becoming super soldiers.

A glass of red wine held, you mingled through the crowd with Loki by your side, speaking under your breath before taking a sip. "Mr. X just rounded the corner of the north pillar. You have your eyes on him?"

"On him. Give me two minutes."

You resisted the urge to comment on the amount of time he needed, it was too obvious. Taking a last sip of wine, you slipped through the crowd, down a hallway as Loki spoke into your earpiece. "Got it. Ready?"

You turned a corner and there he was, no longer Loki, but Mr. X, leading the way to an upper room, the door secured by an intricate security system that he unlocked swiftly with a retina and fingerprint scanner. Inside was a vault. You methodically turned the dial, listening to the clicks of the internal locking system. When a portal door emerged, Loki pulled a key from his pocket dimension and presented it to you. "Would you like to do the honors?"

The key slipped in, turning until the door released. Your heart palpitated when the door opened, knowing you were one step closer. Loki grabbed the flash drives, the hard drives, the papers, stuffed into the inside breast jacket pocket. It was difficult to hide your smile, that feeling of accomplishment, and then your attention pulled toward the shouts and footfalls coming toward you.

"Shit," you mumbled, feeling naked without your katana by your side, but it was hard to hide a 28 inch blade within the form hugging dress.

Rushing out of the vault, you followed behind as Loki turned to the left away from the commotion, trying every door down the hall, but they were all locked. Another corner, another hallway, down a stairwell, through the door and back to the crowded party. Your steps slowed while weaving through the crowd, keeping a low profile.

You grabbed a champagne flute, he grabbed your hand, going deeper into the room. He spun you to face him, pulled your hand up to his neck. The abrupt action startled you and he gave an entertained smirk.

"Smile darling, we're putting on a show," he whispered in your ear. Your lips turned up as your pulse raced. "Now, glance behind me and tell me how many there are."

You gave him the details, ten in all that you could spot and their exact locations. The two of you could handle them all fairly well, but any weapons they had might make it more difficult for you.

"Alright," he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I want you to take this and head to the entrance. I'll be right behind you. If I notice you are drawing any attention, I'll divert them." He placed the smaller flashdrive in your palm and nudged you away. Head down, heart pounding, you counted the steps toward the exit. You could make it in two minutes. Right, left, right, left. Your eyes went up to two security guards on your right, neither looking at you. It was working, you'd be able to slip by. Sixty seconds. A security guard leaned to listen into their shouldered mic, and then his eyes looked up directly at you. You bent your head back down, turning slightly to glance behind you. Where did he go?

The security guard took a step forward in your direction at a determined pace. And then, behind you, commotion, a glass breaking, a woman screaming, the security guard running right past you, and you were 30 seconds to the exit. You'd make it out. Loki would be fine, he was a god you reminded yourself, he could take care of himself. And yet–fifteen seconds–you turned back and saw him fighting so many of them all at once. You had not been trained to slink away in the shadows to leave a teammate behind, it wasn't who you were.

Loki had dragged the flight out to the balcony overlooking the vast icy lake. He'd pulled his daggers from his pocket dimension, a wicked smile on his face as he fought off the pathetic mortals. They were no match for him. But behind him, you saw one with a baton and a taser at the end. Turn around Loki, watch your back. He was too focused on the three in front of him. Your legs took action before your brain could process, sprinting outside. Lurching at the larger man in a moment and wrapping your legs around his neck, he flipped to the ground with a hard thud. Loki turned to see you hit the ground, his jaw clenched. "What? I can't let you have all the fun."

He grasped you by the arm to help you up. "I recall telling you to go."

You grabbed the baton from the downed man and smiled up at Loki. "Guess I'm a bad listener."

He huffed, turning to fight two men in front of him, while you used the baton like your katana, knocking three men out while Loki easily handled himself, and you smiled to yourself. For some reason you and he made a good team.

Loki turned, feeling your eyes on him, and then a look of panic washed over him as Mr. X stood behind you, gun pointing at your head.

"Enough of this! Drop your weapons." His voice was authoritative. "Now!"

You dropped the baton, giving a small nod to Loki as the daggers clattered to the ground. "On your knees."

Loki rolled his eyes in annoyance, a guard shoving him to the ground. "You too little missy."

Hands by your head, you turned slightly to look back at the man holding the pistol at your temple, sizing him up. He was tall and wiry, he knew how to handle a gun, but not as well as you. In seconds, your hands were on his, first making him drop the gun to the ground, second to flip your body onto his. His balance lost in the surprise commotion, he flailed in an attempt to get you off of him, going toward the balcony railing to fling you off. But if you were going over, he was coming with you. The last thing you heard before your body hit the icy waters below was your name from Loki's lips.

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

I’m in the UK. 24 hours later, how is the US media covering the revelations in Spare ?

Well, there's this, for one.

Most of the US shows have reported on The Guardian "leak," which I think says a lot about that leak. Someone was sending out press releases from her Hotmail account. The leak, of course, focused on the fight.

The one that has been going around was CNN's Don Lemon calling the memoir "gauche." Meghan's bots were criticizing the segment on Twitter so I guess that made a mark.

CBS covered it pretty neutrally. They called it "disappointing" and promote the Anderson Cooper interview. It's basically promo for them because they own 60 minutes.

CBS Morning was also 60 minutes promo with anchors questioning the motivation. I guess the interview will address that. Roya Nikkah talks about his long-standing resentments and the likelihood of a reconciliation summit. She expects a "recollections may vary" type of reaction.

Good Morning America also based their coverage on the Guardian leak (surprise!). This one is basically promo for the Stranahan interview. It has the "archnemesis" segment of the interview.

NBC actually got their hands on a Spanish copy, which is interesting. They don't mention the Guardian leak, which leads me to believe that they weren't part of the Sussex PR drive. They mention the Nazi uniform, losing his virginity, and drug use, which the other outlets did not.

NBC Today did mention the Guardian leak. NBC didn't have the book in time for the morning show yesterday. The correspondent says this is a nightmare for King Charles.

Edited: Another Today segment just dropped.

Fox News was very negative. They covered most of the content, not just the fight. They note that ITV, where Harry is doing his interview, is part of the royal rota that he supposedly hates.

Megyn Kelly covered it for her Sirius XM show. She had Tom Bowers on and was very negative.

I think the most noticeable aspect of the US coverage is how much it follows what we presume was the Sussex pr strategy--focusing on the Guardian leak and the upcoming interviews. It really illustrates how easy it is to guide the US coverage. All you have to do is give some exclusives.

The more cringe details that were published in the UK and overseas, were featured in smaller outlets like The Cut and Slate. The Cut is the only outlet, so far, to mention the "baby brain" comment.

Slate focused on the comments about Will.

Reuters, a news service, also did a list of revelations. Interesting that not many outlets have picked up on this and used the info.

Associated Press, the other big news service, focused on the fight.

Edit: I should have mentioned that Page Six, from the NYPost has been relentlessly publishing every single little snippet. There's just too many to count. They've covered EVERYTHING.

And People Magazine has also covered most of the drama, including the "baby brain" comment. They've skipped most of the genitalia stories because they're classy like that.

[gregorsamsaautism]

hi. my dearests vergilius and/or meursault for the headcanon asks if you want

Im gonna be honest I havent read leviathan yet so. IDK MUCH abt verg yet so idk if i’m. Qualified to do headcanons for him LOL. My headcanon is that he gets the break he deserves because holy SHIT i have heard a lot about what happens to him

But!! Mersault!! Let’s go limbus guy from a book I read

Realistic: I also think mersault is autistic but like. I need smth else ive said that for two other sinners already/lh. So! I think mersault keeps his mind occupied by counting things. Like he’ll start counting how many buildings he sees from the bus window that kinda stuff

Unrealistic but funny: not even unrealistic this is supported by canon. This man has the WORST taste in food. The canto III cg triple ketchup was only the beginning. He regularly consumes some of the most fucked up foods known to man and does it with a straight face.

Miserable: idk how to put this into words but… I feel like he definitely feels wierdly alienated around the other sinners no matter what he tries. Just… different in a way he can’t really understand.

Fighting god on this: i think don and mersault friendship is amazing. They should get along, as a treat :]

[happyimagines]

Top Gun: Hangman/Reader

I followed behind Penny and shielded my eyes from the sun as it beat down on us at the beach outside the bar. Penny watched as I dropped my bag on the lounge chair and began an attempt to drag it away. My feet dug into the sand as I moved it an inch away from where it was.

“What’re you doing?” She asked as she sat in her chair.

“Giving you some space.” I replied. “Why are these chairs so heavy? What’re they made of? Lead?” I dropped it with a huff.

“It’s so they don’t blow away in storm season. You don’t need to give me space by the way.”

“You’re sitting outside, because Peter is playing football with the others.” I pointed out. She smiled and held up her hands showing that she conceded.

“Okay, and you’re here because…?”

“Because Peter has the team playing football.” I smiled.

There was chatter as the pilots descended on the beach. Many of them waved to Penny and I as they pulled their shirts off and donned their sunglasses. Penny sat back in her chair as Maverick veered in our direction. I nodded my greetings to him and went back to trying to drag my chair.

“Hey, (Y/N),” I turned my head to see Jake jogging towards me. “Let me help you with that,”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.”

“I insist,” He grinned and I lowered the chair allowing him to pick it up easier than I had managed. I watched as his muscles flexed with ease as he moved the chair along the beach to where I wanted it.

“Any particular reason why we had to move the chair?” He asked once he put it down.

“Maverick and Penny should get some space, and it’s too nice to stay in the bar.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Any time. And I suppose pilots being out here is incentive?” Jake took a step closer to me and I rolled my eyes.

“You wish.” I teased. Behind the lens of his sunglasses, I could see Jake’s eyes watching me. He smiled and opened his mouth to say something before the other pilots began calling him so they can begin their game.

“Well, I should go. Rooster was being cocky this morning.”

“Ah, and you need to go put him in his place, right?”

“Exactly.” Before leaving, Jake pulled his shirt off and I did my best not to stare. “You mind if I leave this with you?”

“Go for it,” I held out my hands and took the shirt.

“Save me a drink later.”

My face grew warm from what I would lie and say the sun. I draped Jake’s shirt on the back of my chair before sitting and pulling my book from my bag. Every now and then, I looked up at the pilots as they cheered when they scored a point for their side. If I caught Jake’s eye, he would wave and I’d wave back causing some of the other pilots to clap him on the back.

After a while, I left my chair to go inside, grateful that it was cooler. Some of the pilots followed after for water in the heat and some shade, taking glasses of water and taking a seat in the bar for a breather. Some left after having water, ready to either start playing.

“Hey,” I smiled at Jake as he came in. He moved his glasses above his head and sat on the opposite side of the bar from me. “This is for you,”

“Thanks,” He took the glass and took a sip.

“How’s the score?”

“Honestly, we got to five, and then we stopped counting.” He chuckled before finishing his glass. I smiled and poured myself some water and took a sip. “What’re you doing tonight?”

“Working the bar, but only until 7.” I smiled. “Why? Is there something that you want to ask me?”

The others began calling Jake back to the game.

“Go, I’m going to be staying in here, it’s getting too bright out there.” I told him.

“Well, in that case,” He plucked the glasses from his head and held them out. “Use these.”

“Okay Hangman,” I smiled and took the glasses before putting them on. “How do they look?”

“They look good.” He looked over his shoulder to see if the bar was empty. When he realized that it was, he leaned over the counter and cupped my face before kissing me. “Do you know long I’ve been wanting to do that today?”

“Really?” I asked breathless. “Too bad I had to watch you play. Go score some points and I’ll see you tonight for dinner.” I told him before giving him another kiss.

[aniron48]

Fifteen Questions

Thank you @bishybarnaby and @macontheweb for the tag! 💕

1. Are you named after anyone? Yes! I'm named after my dad's favorite uncle (my name can traditionally be either a man or woman's name, depending on what part of the world you're in, and I increasingly appreciate the gender expansiveness that helps grant me). (My dad originally wanted to name me Dulcinea, from his favorite book Don Quixote, but my mom shut that down for all the obvious reasons.)

2. When was the last time you cried? I cry basically every day, either because I'm happy, or sad, or think something's funny, or any emotion in between. I'm a big believer in crying as emotional maintenance work. It's like cleaning the gutters. 😂

3. Do you have kids? I do! I always knew I wanted kids, and my wife and I have a son in preschool. He is the biggest source of joy and laughter in my life and I feel so lucky to get to raise him. At the same time, I fully believe that having kids should be a considered choice, and support people who choose otherwise. It's a ton of work and requires a lot of resources (both financially, emotionally, and otherwise) and there are many, many ways to give and receive love in this world, only some of which involve biological families.

4. Do you use sarcasm? Actually I'm not great at sarcasm! I am occasionally passive aggressive, however. I'm working on it.

5. What is the first thing you notice about people? Probably their smiles. I love smiling, smiling's my favorite.

6. What is your eye color? Grey. Grey-blue in certain lights or when I wear blue clothes.

7. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings!

8. Any special talents? I don't think so? Does writing count? And I can read tarot cards (not in a "predict the future" sort of way, but in the sense that I think we can ask questions, look at archetypes, and then reflect on what those images bring up for us in interesting ways) and enjoy doing it for others, but not sure if that's a talent or a hobby.

9. Where were you born? The U.S.

10. What are your hobbies? Reading, writing, yoga, hiking. These days I make a lot of spaceships out of cardboard boxes (see answer #3 above). 😁

11. Do you have any pets? We have two gerbils! We got them because we can't have cats or dogs where we live, but they're kind of amazing little guys. They build elaborate tunnels and structures that you can see through their glass tank, and they're pretty tameable--they'll come sit in my hand and munch a treat and climb around.

12. What sports do you play/have you played? I played soccer/football for about 20 years of my life and loved every minute. I was also a runner--cross country, track, 5ks, things like that--but these days walking and hiking are a bit more my speed.

13. How tall are you? 5'2". The first time I heard the Shakespeare quote, "though she be but little, she is fierce," I felt very seen. 😂

14. Favorite subject in school? Literature, hands down. I double majored in English and Spanish literature in college.

15. Dream job? Unless I can some how retcon myself a life of leisure where I get a stipend every year just for being, like, a noble person, I probably have my dream job now? I'm a lawyer, and I specialize in international law and human rights and I feel very lucky to be able to do it. 🍀

Tagging @stinastar, @dude-watchin-with-the-brontes, @aprettyspy, @silverbrume, and @sweetbabyangels (though borrowing bishy's caveat: this one is long and also personal, so feel free to nope out if you'd rather not do this one!)

[simplylove101]

HORROR MOVIE CHALLENGE 2023 FAVES, HONORABLE MENTIONS & LEAST FAVES (AND THE ONES I COULDN’T FINISH)

Another year of my annual horror challenge has ended! This is technically posted a day later than I usually do it (cuz I usually get that next day off) but I ended up being tired the day after my Halloween movie marathon. But I also had plenty of movies to decide between for this too. 67 movies, to be exact. This year's challenge was interesting in comparison to last year's just because the sheer amount of watches that became instant faves of mine in 2022. I did find plenty of new faves again as always but I will say it was a little harder ranking stuff a bit too because there were many watches that ended up being... just okay. Definitely watchable but a fave? And since there's only allowed to be 30 pics used in a post, I try to keep each category to a certain number now that I make sure to include the movie posters.

Reminder: I never order any of these categories in order of preference, simply just the order of how they were watched, because that'd be kinda hard to do. I struggle enough as it is with this list already.

FAVE WATCHES:

The Menu: It's the first watch I did for the challenge that truly got me excited for it this year so that alone gets it on this list but also the wackiness of the whole concept really appealed to me. It made me laugh. I loved the cast. I will still not be forgetting that ending any time soon. This movie was very much my jam. It's not for everyone but it was for me.

2) M3GAN: Honestly, I'm not surprised this movie still made it on the faves list because while the idea of it may seem rather silly to most people, I dug it for what it was. It was fun and campy just as I expected it to be. Ready for the sequel. And also, Don Mancini, how dare you hype up a Chucky/M3gan face-off if that doesn't happen in some shape or form (regardless of the logic any of that would make lmao)

3) Infinity Pool: Now this one is very much a 'not for everyone' pick. I said in my review that we'd see where its standing in the rankings would be and well, while I'm still wavering between the faves or the honorable mentions, it's safe to say this movie stayed with me. There's visuals in it that I'll never forget. Brandon Cronenberg is like his dad in that regard. And well, you can't talk about this movie and not mention Mia Goth. She killed it with this one.

4) Scream 6: As a proud fan of the Scream franchise as a whole and how kinda let down I felt a bit about Scream 5 by choices made, I was pleasantly surprised by how strong this one felt in comparison. I genuinely found myself caring about the Core 4. I did miss Sidney and I lament what they could have done storywise for both of these movies (Bring back Stu! You mentioned him! lol) but what we did get was pretty cool. Gale's big scene was a highlight and it was cute seeing Kirby back even if they didn't use her to her full potential. Still, this is one of the more recent ones that I think can stand next to the original and you say, it's worthy of it. But that's just my opinion. lol Despite flaws, a fun and intense ride.

5) Evil Dead Rise: I still don't know where it stands against the originals/the 2013 reboot but honestly, as I said, I think they managed to make it their own so I won't compare them. The tone was darker too so that'd be hard. But yeah, this is a movie that had a lot of good things going for it that I had to put it on here. Definitely one of the best of 2023 in my book.

6) Escape Room Franchise: This is my one cheat. lol I'm pairing them together because I can and I watched them right after each other. And it's the only way I'd put them on the Faves list. They're silly fun these movies that happen to have faces I know in them. Now for the record, the second one I'm counting because I watched the non-theatrical version with Isabelle Fuhrman, which honestly is the version they should have stuck with. It's the one that gave a conclusion instead of dragging out an already convoluted plotline.

7) Renfield: Even if I expected to like it even more than I actually did, I feel like it still earns its spot on here because I really liked the concept. The pairing of Nicholas Hoult & Nicholas Cage was a fantastic idea, despite it not fully focusing on their dynamic as much as they should have imo. It still was fun. Very memorable action sequences that'll have you gasping. Still was solid enough at the end of the day.

8) Last Shift: I feel like I gotta give this little B movie credit. It had me on the edge of my seat and it's mostly just one woman stuck in one location having to deal with some pretty traumatizing stuff. I was definitely creeped out at parts so overall, I feel like it was effective and it helps that I went in with low expectations because I feel like it went beyond them. Thankfully, they had this poster because the other one is so rude and creepy. lol

9) Devil's Advocate: I think it's funny that I always mean to watch Angel Heart every year now and this one I just put on out of impulse. So basically I got to see Pacino play *spoiler alert* Satan before De Niro. lol Maybe next year? Anyway, this was really interesting. Keanu playing a character that's hard to like (much like Knock Knock) which is kinda more of a rarity with him and Al Pacino also giving an all-in performance. I appreciated how they handled the blend of legal drama & supernatural in the script. Some very memorable moments in there.

10) The Serpent & The Rainbow: Despite what I said about how the story gets a little lost in the second half for me once it gets really action heavy, I do still think this was an interesting movie. I feel like it had good intentions with the message it was trying to send about racism and exploiting cultures for personal gain. It was also a fresh take on the zombie genre at the time because it's about the actual origins of the word. It was also really cool how they incorporated the voodoo element as well. Yes, they went a little effects heavy but I will never forget that coffin scene with Bill Pullman because man, the visuals in that one alone. A+ camerawork. There's a lot to think about with this one.

11) No One Will Save You: This one kinda wavered between fave and honorable mention because it's just really odd. lol And my review wasn't as positive as you'd expect a movie making this list but honestly, looking back on it, it was kinda original. Because it wasn't just about aliens, it was also mainly about Kaitlyn's character's guilt. Still normally would have been put under as honorable mention but I think Kaitlyn Dever's performance was that good, it feels fair to put it on here instead. Wish the effects had been better and the narrative a little clearer but it was still pretty good.

12) Vacancy: Another one where it was like, do I put you with the faves or the honorable mentions?? lol But I actually thought this was pretty solid. Very simple story but sometimes those ones work best if and when executed just right because why complicate this story? We know who we're meant to root for and they're either gonna get out of this situation alive or not. I can't help comparing it to The Strangers because there's a lot of similarities but I actually like these characters/the actors more. Their urgency to survive was very clear. So, I was willing to watch this ride, despite any poor choices made along the way. My one true qualm is the ending just because it's entirely too abrupt imo but otherwise, I enjoyed it.

13) Insidious Chapter 2: In my review I mentioned it kinda felt like we were going through the motions with this one in comparison to the original but I do think it was still good. It felt like a proper way to end the story of The Lambert family (but then they just had to bring them back in The Red Door for a half-baked story) and at least there was an actual reason for why it felt like we were repeating things at parts. Patrick Wilson was good in the possessed scenes. Like, there were some flickers of Jack in The Shining imo so props to him for his performance. Also, they did a better job including the other characters like Barbara Hershey's and Specs & Tucker I think as well.

14) Totally Killer: As soon as I finished this movie I knew exactly where it was being placed because this was so fun. Very enjoyable to watch. The cast was great. Very funny and tongue-in-cheek just how I love my horror comedies. Kiernan Shipka was perfect as the lead and always excited to see Olivia Holt in anything. All the callbacks to Back to the Future made me very happy because they knew what they were doing. So yeah, this movie was made for me. lol

15) The Sacrament: In terms of enjoyment, this might not be high on people's lists but once again, maybe I was a target audience for it? That final act is quite grim but very effective. Especially because Ti West chose to use the found footage format. And I loved the reasoning for using it because it makes perfect sense for them to keep recording (the main characters being journalists) I genuinely don't mind that his movies lean towards a slowburner pace because it feels like there's a purpose to it. I did enjoy this a little more than The Innkeepers so I knew if either of Ti West's movies I watched this year was making one of the lists, it was gonna be this one.

16) I See You: Knowing what I know, I truly love how misleading that poster is cuz that was certainly a choice by the people behind it. lol That's all I'll say about that but yeah, this movie ended up being one of the surprise faves because I went in with the lowest of expectations. I went in completely blind and was glad for it cuz I worry the trailer reveals stuff. Very twisty little tale with clues thrown in there. Love when a movie can turn the narrative on its head and I can still appreciate it. And always cool seeing recognizable faces as well (Helen Hunt, Libe Barer, Sam Trammell & Judah Lewis for me) Might not be for everyone but this leans more for people who enjoyed their horror more grounded if you can believe it. lol

17) Ponytpool: There just was something really cool and unique about this concept. A zombie movie that doesn't feel like a one most of the time but is pretty effective in its execution for that genre imo. It takes place majorly in one location but they were able to accomplish a lot within that limitation. Stephen McHattie and Lisa Houle's chemistry was so good together, it honestly wasn't surprising to learn they're married in real life. It was definitely refreshing with how different it was.

18) The Frighteners: I just feel like this should be considered a 90's horror classic. It was fun enough. Michael J. Fox's last role as a leading man in movies. Horror icons Jeffrey Combs & Dee Wallace both hamming it up when they can. The effects were pretty solid too. Not to mention, it's the last of Peter Jackson's horror era. So, lots of notable things about it. I thought it was good. Definitely makes me excited to check out his other horror movies next year.

19) When Evil Lurks: Such a brutal watch. But the hype as it being considered the best horror movie from this year by some is very much deserved imo. Starts a little slow but once it gets going, I was down. It feels very unique with a lore that felt established. The gore is a lot to handle but it didn't feel excessive beyond what the story called for (I've seen a lot worse tbh) I just felt so bad for the main character obviously, because he truly was doing everything he could to save his family. Like I said, brutal. But I think it was great. It definitely had me. If you can't handle subtitles, I don't know what to tell you. But I will say besides the scenes where the lore is explained, it's not the hardest story to follow actually imo.

20) Talk to Me: Of course this was gonna be on here!! I'm glad this lived up to the hype for me. I would have been so sad if it hadn't. Especially since it's how I ended my Halloween night marathon. I just really loved the overall vibe of the whole thing and the cast was great. Sophie Wilde, you're a certified scream queen. You owned this movie. It deserves being labeled as the best of the year as well. I can't decide. lol Anyway, bring on the prequel and sequel! I'm ready for both.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Cobweb: I know this isn't a movie a lot of people would agree with probably because it has its issues I know but honestly, I actually almost put it as a fave originally. Just because when it got things right or it'd get scary, it definitely got me. There's a particular scene with Lizzy Caplan that had me in the fetal position ngl. lol But the messiness of the plot and me feeling not 100% on the appearance of the creature (not to mention it feeling very unfinished at the end), made it so I ultimately had to put it on the Honorable Mentions instead. But it was pretty memorable if nothing else.

2) Swallow: Horror fans would possibly come for me putting this one on here but hear me out, it is still a body horror movie. Just a very different take on that subgenre. And I just thought it was a good movie. Haley Bennett deserves all the praise. The cinematography is to die for. It had me squirming more than plenty of horror movies manage to so in that regard it definitely belongs in the genre imo. It was just a very interesting character study and is probably not a movie most people would expect to see on a list like this.

3) Phenomena: I wasn't sure if I was gonna put it on the list or not but I do think it was pretty good. Notable for being very different from Argento's stuff so I'm excited to watch more of his next year to see just how true that is. Now knowing that Jennifer Connelly was 15 in it makes me appreciate her performance more cuz I thought she was older. Very cool use of music and visuals. And ofc Inga the chimpanzee deserves a mention cuz aww.

4) Rings: Look at me putting a short movie on here but hey, say what you want, but what this thing managed to do in 17 minutes is still better than some of the full feature movies I watched for the challenge this year as far as I'm concerned. Some of the camera choices were interesting that dates it a bit but otherwise I think this was pretty solid. Continues to make me wish they had included in the final product of The Ring 2 but we move on. lol

5) Killer Klowns from Outer Space: It had to make the list!! lol It's just classic silly B movie fun. I don't care about any of the flaws. It was just as I was hoping it would be. It was peak 80's cheesiness in the best kind of way. I loved the design of the clowns and music. And those kills were beyond memorable with how out there they were. Cult classic I'm glad I finally watched.

(There were a few I debated on placing on here like The Good Neighbor or Hell House LLC Origins, maybe even Absentia cuz of Mike Flanagan bias or Saw X, but ultimately these are the 5 I decided that I simply couldn't leave off the list)

LEAST FAVE WATCHES:

Clock: This one was easy to place. It was one of the first watches to truly annoy me once I finished it because I hated that script. The concept could have been cool and I think Dianna did a nice job with what she had but that's about all my positives for it. There's some creepy moments in but they feel tacked on to make it fit the horror genre. Most of what this movie was going for fell flat for me.

2) The Strays: Sometimes I don't like feeling so critical of movies because I see what they're going for or it's not for me or maybe some of the acting isn't great but honestly, this movie was all three of those combined imo. So, clearly there was a reason for that and I gotta put it on here. It wasn't a very pleasant watch for me. There's a message behind it but it's done in such a messy way when it feels like it should be done with more care. Just cringey.

3) Wish Upon: When a protagonist annoys you so much that you're glad the movie is over. lol It's not Joey King's fault though, it's the script's. But seriously, when people you know are dying because of your wishes and then you keep making them even after realizing that, you lose me cuz what?? Selfish lol While the kills are kinda insane, I still managed to be bored. Nice cast wasted.

4) Quarantine: I decided to keep this section to 4 movies because there were so many duds I debated putting under it instead (and I wanted to save space for at least one image for the Couldn't Finish section). Basically, it was a hard year. Like, I did not like The Strangers at all but there's iconic moments for the horror genre in it. Insidious: The Red Door was a disappointment but I love the franchise & characters. Both Sara Snook movies that I watched I disliked, but she saved both of them with her acting. Skinamarink was an experimental film that just wasn't for me but I saw the merit in it. The list goes on. But this movie?? While it tries what it can to recreate the magic of the original, it's nothing but a carbon copy of it without any of the tension. [Rec] quickly became one of my favorite horror movies ever after my watch last year so I was feeling some type of way after I finished this so I'm choosing it for this spot. lol

COULDN'T FINISH:

So, this category is newer but I think it's a good one to have cuz it gives an idea of my limits with these watches. Sometimes I get bored, sometimes I get triggered, and sometimes I'm just too annoyed to finish. lol

Tell Me How I Die: One day I was scrolling through Tubi for something to watch and I saw Ginny's (Virginia Gardner) name and she just keeps popping up in these horror movies I end up watching. lol And there's some other familiar faces in it too (Nathan Kress from iCarly and Ryan Higa from YouTube fame) but goodness, this was bad. I actually did make it almost to the end but I decided not to count it because I stopped it before the credits. It was just dumb and lacked any tension whatsoever for me. Where was the logic for anything? That said, can't say I was surprised but I at least was hoping for a guilty pleasure watch but nope.

2. The Dive: I stopped this one early enough just because the similarities between this and 47 Meters Down was just too much for me from the jump. I couldn't get past it and the acting seemed like it was gonna be subpar anyway. So I don't really regret it.

3. Elevator Game: Another one where I didn't really make it too far past the opening scene just because this was screaming that it was gonna be cheesy. I was just not in the mood for it.

4. Terrifer: Don't ask me where I thought I would have the tolerance needed for this kind of thing. I just was morbidly curious how long I could stand to watch it. I know what's been said about these movies. But yeah, I actually made it farther than I thought I would but let's just say a certain hacksaw scene is the second I tapped out. I was stupidly eating at that exact moment and I immediately felt sick. Was already gonna stop it the second Art grabbed it but didn't stop it in time before I saw way more than I would have liked. Definitely not for me. lol

5. Halloween (2007): I've never really felt drawn to watching Rob Zombie's version of Halloween because it always felt pointless. Why try to recreate the classic? The slasher that really jumpstarted what that genre has become. And yet, he did it. I only turned it on because AMC was playing it and I figured I'd at least give it chance. I made it to about when he gets out of the mental institution and we see Laurie & her friends. It definitely upped the violence (the original shows no blood and still very effective) but where was the tension, Rob??? Like, it was non-existent. I was bored. lol

6. The Outwaters: I tried to watch this around the same time as Skinamarink to see if experimental horror really wasn't for me. The jury's still out for that subgenre as a whole but this one didn't really grab me either so I don't know. It was just very slow. I was at least able to get what Skinamarink was going for but I lost interest in this one pretty quick. I did hear the ending gets a little wild though so that's interesting.

And that's another horror challenge done! Spooky season may officially be over now but excited for next year's! Hopefully it'll be more successful than this one was though.