#that was like. about nine years ago now? oh. oh god. i was in high school nine years ago. what the fuck oh my god

[fernsnailz]

what got you interested into sonic in the first place (also love your art btw)

thanks! i'm putting myself on blast here. i got into sonic because i watched the game grumps playthroughs of various sonic games when i was in high school. the one that specifically threw me into the pit was their shadow the hedgehog playthrough - they only played one path and ended the playthrough which made me sad because i wanted to see the other paths. and then i looked into the games/other sonic media on my own and it was all over

[delirious-donna]

Happy Endings And An Unusual Suspect [Part Ten]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: One year on where and what are you and Kento up to? The story might be over but not every part has been told... what happens when you find out that life might not have been as serendipitous as you assumed?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: fluff, NSFW, smut from the start, happy endings with a little reveal, literally just tooth rotting fluffy and sexy times

Part Nine | Series Masterlist

“They’re waiting on us… fuck.”

“Let them, I want this. I need this. Move this a little—yeah, like that.”

“Kento! Oh… god, don’t stop. Right there!”

“Someone changed their tune…”

You would smack him if you weren’t holding on to his shoulders and neck for dear life. Plumes of rich champagne skirt bunched around your waist and gave the man holding you against the wall the look of someone being devoured by a rampaging marshmallow. Laughter caught tight in your throat, every time it threatened to squeeze out, a sharp thrust punctured it like a pin into a balloon.

Kento shifted, his stance widening as far as the dress slacks around his knees would allow, but enough to throw your leg over the crook of his arm. He was buried balls deep in you, holding on to the last vestiges of his orgasm by sheer force of will alone. He kissed you, punch drunk and sloppy, taking the colour of your lips with him to stain his mouth and cheek.

“Mrs Nanami,” he crooned.

The clench of your cunt around him made his smile grow wider, white teeth showing through his parted lips and your eyes rolled to the back of your skull at the pure decadence of it all.

“It’s—will you let me—speak!” Kento only doubled down at your request, snapping forward at a pace that stole the words right out of your mouth. An orgasm built with fierce determination, making your voice falter and shake. “—only been ten minutes.”

He couldn’t care if it had been ten minutes or ten years, Kento knew you were his, now in name as well as heart. His forehead rested against yours, chasing his end that hurtled closer with every contraction of your walls around his cock.

A year ago, he wouldn’t have thought this possible. It wasn’t a part of his plans, a wife and family, that was something to be attained once he was financially stable and as high up the ladder as he dared to climb without suffering from burnout.

Yet, as he waited for the ceremony to begin and for the harpist to start the beautiful melody you had picked for your entrance, there was no doubt in his mind that he was exactly where he was meant to be. He was taking a big risk in many aspects of his life, but the one part he was certain about was you and he might have never found his courage had you not ended up in his bathtub that fateful day.

If he thought back to when he walked out of his office for what turned out to be the last time, he recalled the weight that eased from his shoulders. Did he know that at that moment he was changing the course of his future? Definitely not, but with his decision made to find and apologise to you for his mistakes, he fell into an understanding that otherwise might have never become clear to him.

You were his counterbalance. The sunshine that tempted him back into the light when his world felt dark and full of shadows. Perhaps if he had been willing to admit that you saw a side of him that he refused to acknowledge from the start, it wouldn’t have come to such a dramatic head. Except… there was a part of him that knew, deep down, that had things not broken so intrinsically, that this day he was living right now might have never come to exist.

Images of you flashed through his mind, a litany of Polaroid pictures capturing moments that would remain with him until the end days.

Your panic-stricken face and flailing limbs submerged in bubbly water. Laying by his side at the museum as you watched the stars twinkle overhead. Cuddled into his arm when you were scared. Tucked into bed after he carried you there, asleep and smiling. Your tear-stricken face when he pushed you away. The hurt expression that had taken away part of your glow and wounded his soul. Your blissful expression when he made love to you that first time. The most radiant smile when you walked down the aisle.

A knock on the door brought him back into the present with a bump. Kento pressed his palm over your mouth to stifle the surprised squeak, not pausing in his thrusts to answer. “Who is it?”

“You’re wanted for photographs,” a stern and not-too-familiar voice announced, adding a fist to the door in emphasis. “The photographer is getting antsy…”

“We’ll be—” he paused when your tongue darted out to lick his palm and he damn near moaned, “right out.” His jaw set firmly, eyes narrowing on your sweet face and the slow blink you offered without a hint of remorse. You would be the death of him, and he’d be happy to meet his maker knowing you were the one that sent him there.

When a set of footsteps retreated away from the door, Kento relented in uncovering your mouth to reveal a saccharine smile. “That was—reckless.” The word was punctuated with a sharp forward thrust that sank him into what felt like the depths of your belly.

He watched as the smile slipped, your jaw slackening to form a perfect oval of pleasure and without warning, you erupted. The leg draped over his arm twitched and spasmed, but it was nothing compared to your silken pussy milking him for his seed. Kento shuddered and let go. Your orgasm tripped his own, balls drawn tight to his pelvis whilst he filled you with his spend. Every moment of release made him reminisce about the very first, where you had playfully chastised him for painting your stomach and asked that he finish inside you in the future.

A promise that he had kept since that day.

“I love you, Mrs Nanami…”

“I know, and I love you too, Mr Nanami.” You traced the curve of his jaw, smiling at the kiss he pressed to the inside of your wrist. “Now let’s go fulfil our duties, yes?”

Kento helped you back into the perfect semblance of a blushing bride, fixing your underwear back into place and smoothing down the skirts of your dress. There was a dark glint of satisfaction in his eye, knowing that you would spend the day with his cum inside you, that you’d be clenching to keep it from running down the inside of your thighs.

“Don’t give me that look, mister,” you said suddenly, knowing. Kento glanced up, sheepish in being caught so readily in his filthy daydreaming.

“I don’t know what you mean, my love.”

You scoffed. A finger caught beneath his chin, drawing him to full height and closer to your face. “You think I don’t know what you’re thinking?” You teased with a purr, “How about if you can behave yourself until tonight… I’ll let you check if I’ve managed to keep your little gift, hm?”

“You are a devil incarnate.”

“A devil you married. What does that say about you?”

“That I am not above temptation.”

“Took you long enough to realise.”

~

You smiled at the photographer who was wringing his hands together in panic, his eyes widening and shoulders sagging when the two of you appeared from the naughty little bubble of your private tryst.

Kento had changed; in ways you had never thought possible, but he was still the same man you met and fell in love with. There were still times his posture stiffened at your antics, and his eyebrow would not-so-subtly arch if he thought you were in some way being ridiculous. However, he appreciated his own happiness more than financial gain. He worked on himself internally instead of only focusing on the outside. No longer was the time it takes to read and enjoy a good book considered wasted time, and he pursued hobbies he assumed would never be touched again.

Would you have suspected him to indulge in a fevered moment of pure lust and desire back when you first met him? No. But it hadn’t taken you long to discover that he possessed certain buttons that would drive him to almost any lengths, and becoming a savant at playing him was your ambition in life.

Gazing wistfully at your husband—heart skipping a beat at the new term that had yet to sink in—you considered just how far you both had come in little over a year. You had graduated from college with honours, started an internship at a small independent company that was growing quickly but organically, and you were newly married. That part was going to take some time to get used to.

After the dramatic events that led Kento to your apartment door that spring afternoon, you took things slow but steady. It was nice to date him like you might do any other person, and he tried so hard to impress you that you fell even harder for him. Home-cooked dinners in your apartment’s cramped kitchen, long lazy walks where you talked for hours about everything and nothing, and so many hours spent rolling around the sheets. Not always in the pursuit of sex, sometimes just indulging in one another—watching his chest rise and fall, connecting the little freckles that dappled his shoulders.

It wasn’t until a month into your newfound relationship did you step past the threshold of his apartment again. Something was holding you back before that moment, a sense that if you returned it wouldn’t hold the same magic that it once had. Except you were wrong.

The apartment held a pivotal role in what had brought you together, and that was no more evident than when you returned, and everything was exactly how it had been. The same aroma of expensive coffee beans mingled with a fragrance that you knew now to be Kento’s favoured cologne. The panoramic windows offered the same undisturbed view of the city, and the sprawling couch with its basket of blankets would forever remind you of when you clung to him during a scary movie, and that first experience of his lips gracing your skin.

It felt like coming home after far too long. Since that first trip back, you hadn’t spent a night away until last night—the night before your wedding. Kento’s proposal was a story in itself, but for another time, you mused.

Speaking of your darling new husband, there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe that after he took off all his allotted, and well-overdue vacation time, he had handed in his notice with immediate effect. No one was more shocked than the man himself, and the panic that followed his decision had been a rollercoaster ride of euphoric highs and crushing lows.

He wasn’t happy with what he was doing day in and day out, the work was physically draining the vibrancy out of his life, but what does one do when they cannot do?

They teach.

So, in what felt like role reversal, Kento joined your alma mater as a junior professor, and you entered the working world. Teaching suited him far more than you had anticipated. His stern façade and seeming indifference towards difficult students had a way of drawing out the potential in his young charges. It was only a few terms into his first year of teaching and the feedback was already far beyond the expectations in place.

What a difference a year makes…

The evening was finally drawing in, the sun setting behind the cherry blossom trees to paint the sky a beautiful pale pink and you couldn’t wait to retire for the evening and get out of this dress. As exquisite as it was, it was cumbersome for someone used to the comfort of jeans, oversized sweaters and casual dresses.

You caught Kento’s eye from across the room and he nodded in complete understanding without the need to say a word. He gave his apologies to the couple he had been conversing with, pointing towards you and they inclined their heads in your direction. All you could do was watch the majesty that was the man of your dreams walk to you. His suit was deep navy and paired with a buttercup yellow tie and pocket square. Thankfully it was not the yellow splattered tie of your memories, though he had tried to persuade you, unsuccessfully so.

Like a male model he walked with a grace you dreamed of, and before you knew it, his palm was beneath your elbow.

“Ready to call it a night?” He asked with a tone in his voice that assured you that no sleeping would be taking place anytime soon.

“It’s like you read my mind. I’ll just say goodnight to my parents and yours,” you started before someone caught a hold of your wrist.

Looking down you saw a feminine hand with a simple gold bracelet adorning flawless skin and pretty manicured nails.

“Karin,” Kento said, startled by her sudden appearance. “I haven’t seen you since the ceremony, where have you been?”

Kento’s sister loosened her gentle hold to place your hand into her brother’s hand with an unreadable expression. She was tall, always had been taller than you even when you wore heels, and her hair was darker than Kento’s corn wheat blond. Their eyes were their most similar feature, hazel in colour and almost alive with warm flecks that intensified or darkened depending on their mood.

Your friendship had survived you dating her brother, although it would be a lie to pretend that things hadn’t changed. However, it could be said that no matter who you had ended up with or that she had met and fallen for, things would be different. It was the next chapter of your lives and whilst you both embraced a friendship that went beyond the trappings of young adulthood, if you didn’t shift with the momentum then it wouldn’t last.

“It worked then,” Karin said with an awfully self-satisfied smile.

“What worked?” Kento asked whilst your eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Karin clicked her tongue against her teeth and rested her chin in the hold of her thumb and finger. “Oh, y’know… my plan.”

“Stop talking in riddles and spit it out, I can tell you’re dying to,” you said with an exaggerated eye roll at her antics.

“You, dear brother,” she pointed dramatically at Kento who raised his eyebrows, “have needed someone in your life that would remove the stick out of your butt and remind you that life was worth living. Work is not the epitome of existence after all.”

You snorted loudly, drawing a wider smile from your friend and a scowl from your husband. Kento nudged your hip, and you patted his arm dutifully. “On the money with that assessment but what does that have to do with anything?”

“And you,” she rounded on you as if you hadn’t spoken, “needed a little more stability in your life and someone that you could depend on no matter what.”

“What are you—”

“Karin! Are you saying you planned our meeting?” You interjected across Kento, who snapped his head around to his little sister with alarm.

“But you couldn’t have. No one knew I wasn’t going on that trip apart from me and…”

“Satoru,” Karin finished his sentence for him. “I must admit that I hadn’t foreseen that little snag in the plan, but I had him keep you in the office until I knew your beautiful bride was already in your apartment. Didn’t you think about it even a little? That retreat was only a weekend long, you were always going to come back to find someone in your home.”

You looked at Kento. Kento looked at you. His mouth gaped open then shut like a fish out of water.

“You two became so wrapped up in each other that you didn’t even put two and two together. Not even when you both blasted my phone, it only lasted one night then I barely heard a peep from either of you! It was like you were happy with the arrangement…” she supplied easily, too easily.

Goddammit. You had been played and you didn’t even realise. For a whole year, Karin had gone along with your stories of the time you spent with her brother, lamenting his frustrating lack of intuition when it came to the opposite sex and steering away from the spicier moments that any sibling would rather be buried alive than listen to.

Honestly, you didn’t know what to say, but thankfully Karin was happy to continue in your stead.

“I couldn’t exactly make you like each other, and what happened once you were both in the apartment could have been anything. All those decisions and regrets,” she eyed Kento with a cold, piercing look and you felt him squirm uncomfortably by your side, “they were yours to make. I did nothing but set the pieces on the board, you played the game and you won.”

Should you thank her or be utterly appalled? It was hard to tell. In the end, you gave in to the third option of the laughter filling you like a helium balloon. It burst forth all at once until others started to turn their heads and watch as the bride doubled over clutching their stomach from the sensation.

You hugged her, arms flung around her neck in a genuine display that she reciprocated with a warmth which was familiar and comforting. “We’ll talk about this another time, Karin, but for now… thank you.”

As she departed to rejoin the throng of people on the dance floor, you turned to your husband who was ashen and unblinking. “I feel like she just pulled a Keyser Soze on us,” you whispered, tugging on his hand and making to move off in the direction of both sets of parents who were waiting for you both.

“And I feel like most people your age wouldn’t even know who that is,” he teased, finally coming out of his startled trance.

“Tch. You say that like I’m decades younger than you instead of a measly five years. Five years is nothing, y'know.”

Kento smiled down at you, emotions filling his gaze until he looked away and caught Karin’s eye from the other side of the room. He mouthed ‘thank you’ and meant it. His sister had given him the greatest gift he could ever receive, and he would be grateful until the end of days.

He had started as your best friend’s brother, but Kento had become so much more…

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄

PAIRING: loki laufeyson x f!asgardian!reader

TAGS: bestfriend!loki, idiots in love, loki using magic, canon divergent, fluff, some cursing

A/N: oh man i wrote this sooooo long ago too. it's an old one that i deleted bc i was revamping my acc but i went back to reread it and realized i just had to bring it back! happy reading <3

WORD COUNT: ~1.3k

masterlist || request box <3

"Loki?"

He hummed in response. "If you could go anywhere in the Nine Realms," you started, "where would you go and who would you take with you?"

After a long day, the two of you had settled in the grass behind the palace, taking the time to relax, enjoy each other's company, and stare up into the sky. He turned to face you with a small grin already painted across his face. "What are you smiling about?"

"You already know my answer. Well, half of it anyway."

"Oh come on, don't be like that! Just tell me."

He took a second to think about it. Another grin grew on his face. He leaned in as if he was going to whisper it to you and said, "Why don't I just show you?"

With that, he shot up and put out his hand. As soon as you took it, he pulled you close to him. "The Bifrost is quite far for a walk, why don't I just..."

As he spoke, suddenly the two of you already seemed to have made it to the entrance of the Bifrost. "There."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to you doing that."

As time had passed over the years, Loki had become better at controlling the magic that Frigga had shared with him. One of the things he learned was how to conjure fireworks which he always used to make your day. Teleportation was his latest feat and he took advantage of it. When you both entered, you were greeted by the gatekeeper, Heimdall. "Your royal highness. My liege."

"Let me guess, you saw us coming?"

He hummed in response. "What can I do for the two of you today?"

Loki turned to you and gave you a quick smile before he approached the gatekeeper, whispering something into his ear. Heimdall quickly nodded and inserted Hofund to open the Bifrost. As you moved towards the entrance of the portal, Loki turned to you, grabbing your hand. "Hold onto me, love. I don't want you to fall out by accident now, do I?"

Before you knew it, the two of you were gliding up through the Bifrost, the colors glistening all around you. A look of astonishment growing on your face which made Loki's heart swell in his chest. Suddenly, you were on solid ground again, burn marks from the Bifrost scorched into the ground beneath you. "Loki," you started, taking in the new environment. "Where are we?"

"Midgard," he replied, a small smile on his face. You were speechless. You never imagined Midgard to be this… beautiful. When you learned about the Nine Realms, Midgard had been described as a place unappealing to visit and that the Midgardians were rude creatures that don't know how to do anything but create chaos. You always joked that it was the perfect place for Loki with him being the God of Mischief and all. But this? Wherever Loki had taken you seemed to be the complete opposite.

Unlike Asgard, the seemingly end of their world wasn't just space, it was water and in the distance was a beautiful skyline of orange and blue. As you took in the sight before you, Loki couldn't help but admire how amazed you looked. He had taken a trip here once before with his brother, Thor, so he was less taken aback but seeing the look on your face made this visit feel more meaningful—not that it wasn't already. Breaking the silence, Loki leaned in and whispered, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Loki, this is-"

As you turned to face him, he offered his hand, asking for you to take it once more. "Come on," he insisted, "There is so much more that I want you to see."

The second your hand met his he quickly turned around and set off in a sprint, dragging you right behind him. Over the sounds of the crashing waves, you yelled, "Loki! Where are you taking me now?"

"Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do but what does that have to-"

Before you could finish you found yourself in another environment once again. "Fuck, Loki!"

All he did was laugh back at your shock at the teleportation. He continued to run with your hands still interlocked but as you took in more of the sights of the new area you realized it resembled the area behind the palace just immensely larger. A field of grass with flowers everywhere, only a massive tree in sight. Both yours and Loki's hair flowing in the wind as you sprinted through the field.

Once you came to a stop, the both of you took a second to catch your breaths. Taking a seat next to the tree, you took a similar position like how you were laying back on the field in Asgard, Loki quickly following suit. Suddenly, he turned and took you into his arms and began to violently tickle you. "Loki, stop! No," you squealed.

Coming to a stop with the tickling, he continued to hold you in his arms. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Just for being my friend for so long and allowing me to bring you here. I thought you would have left me when you found out that I was, well, not Asgardian."

"Of course, Loki. You think I'd pass up the opportunity to be friends with a prince of Asgard?"

He sat up, jokingly displaying a shocked expression on his face. "Is that the only reason you're friends with me?"

You quipped, "Why else would I be?"

As he took his place back onto the ground next to you, you went on to say, "I'm glad we're friends too, Loki. I can't imagine being best friends with anyone else."

"Not even my brother?"

"Not even your brother," you ensured.

Staying in silence for a second, he quickly broke it and said, "I know we just got here but there is one more place that I want you to see."

Taking your hand once again, you expected him to teleport immediately but he quickly added, "Close your eyes."

"Hmm and why should I?"

"Just trust me."

Reluctantly, you shut your eyes and you felt the two of you teleport. Immediately new sounds and smells filled your senses. With your eyes still closed, he helped you up and guided you to his desired location. "Just a little bit further and... there. You can open your eyes now."

Once your eyes opened, you were met with buildings and lights underneath you. "Wh- Where are we?"

"This is something the Midgardians call the Eiffel Tower. It's this triangular shaped structure similar to the palace but much less attractive."

"Oh, please," you laughed as you lightly shoved his shoulder. You leaned over the railing, further taking in its beauty, Loki taking his place next to you.

"You asked if I could go anywhere where I'd go and with whom," he started without breaking his gaze downwards to the buildings. When you turned to look at him he continued, "I don't care where I end up as long as it’s with you."

"You sap!"

"Hey," he retorted. "I'm being serious."

"I know," you whispered, blush creeping into your cheeks at the sentiment.

You took a second to take in the sight before the two of you before Loki spoke again. "How about you?"

"Hm?"

"Where would you go and with whom?"

Meeting his gaze, you leaned in, closing the space between you. "Anywhere as long it's with you," a smile growing on your face as you basically repeated his answer back to him.

"Oh, who's the sap now!"

The two of you laughed it off and continued to look onto the city in front of you. "Hey, the sights here on Midgard are fascinating but just you wait until you taste their food."

Your eyebrows raised in intrigue. “Really?”

He nodded and offered his hand once more, already glowing in green with magic. "Can't we just walk down?" you whined.

A mischievous grin grew on the god's face. "Now where's the fun in that?"

[drgnmnts]

knuckles bruised (like violets) │ jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!OC

Title: knuckles bruised (like violets)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!OC (Daenys Targaryen, daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Alicent Hightower)

Summary: There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin, especially for those caught in between, longing only for peace as they're met with fire and blood.

_______________________________________________

Chapter 3 - Dragonstone

Word count: 3k

When Daenys opened her eyes again, she found herself back in bed. From the light beginning to filter through the window, she assumed it was already dawn. Glancing around the room, she noticed her mother sitting beside her, eyes fixed on Daenys’ hand as it rested on hers. Ser Criston stood guard by the door and was the first to notice she had awakened.

“There she is, Your Grace,” he notified Alicent. The queen looked up immediately, relief washing over her features.

“Oh, thank the Gods,” she whispered, placing her palm on her daughter’s forehead to check for a temperature. Daenys watched her, feeling a bit confused.

“What happened?” she asked.

“You fainted. From the anguish, the maester said,” Alicent informed, her lips a tight line.

“A dragonrider since you were nine, and I have to be scooping you off the floor like a damsel in distress,” quipped Ser Criston, making Daenys chuckle. The queen didn’t react.

The memory of the previous hours made Daenys’ smile fade. She couldn’t remember much, but the important bits were impossible to gloss over: Aemond had lost an eye at the hands of Lucerys Velaryon, whose brother was now her betrothed. A tight knot in her throat made her believe she might choke, but Daenys was able to speak anyway.

“What Father and Grandsire said. Do I really have to…?”

“Yes, sweetling,” Alicent confirmed, eyes full of sorrow.

At her mother’s answer, tears welled up in Daenys’ eyes, and when she spoke again she sounded half her age. “But I don’t want to.”

Alicent didn’t respond. Instead, she just held her daughter’s hand again, unable to meet her gaze.

“Is it— is it something I’ve done, is that it? Is Father cross with me?” Daenys asked, anxiety starting to bubble up in her chest again.

“Your father isn’t punishing you, Daenys…” Alicent assured, visibly tired. She had probably spent the whole night without any sleep.

“Then isn’t there anything you can do?” Daenys questioned, her voice high-pitched as she tried to speak between whimpers. “I know I misbehave sometimes, but I can change, Mother. I— I’ll marry Aemond, no one will want him without the eye but I would, I can be a good wife. And I’ll ride Silverwing less if you want, and I’ll study more. I’ll be good, I— I can be good.”

Alicent’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. She felt powerless, unable to calm her daughter since there truly was nothing she could do to change Daenys’ destiny. She recalled feeling equally vulnerable many years ago, in her youth, as her father commanded her to marry the king, to give him children, only to terrorize her with their impending deaths right before leaving her alone in a place where she did not have any friends; not anymore, at least.

Everywhere in the world they hurt little girls.

The queen rubbed her forehead, perhaps in an attempt to appease a migraine that was beginning to spread. When she looked up again, her eyes showed no sign of tenderness, only determination. As she spoke, Otto Hightower’s words came out of her mouth.

“I suppose you’re old enough to learn about sacrifice, what it really means; sometimes we must do things we dislike, especially women in our position. Do you think your sister wants to marry Aegon? Do you think I—” she cut herself, but Daenys knew exactly what she had meant to say. “When Rhaenyra sits the Iron Throne, your brother Aegon’s very existence will be a challenge to her position. This means he could be put to the sword, as could Aemond,” she explained. Daenys had to make an effort to hold in a sob. “This betrothal… It may not seem like it now, but in the future, when you’re older, it could mean the difference between life and death for this family. When a man loves his wife, he… he would be willing to spare his enemies if it saves her from heartbreak. Jacaerys is young now, but he won’t stay a boy forever, and neither will you.” Alicent put a hand on her daughter’s cheek, but this time it didn’t comfort Daenys. Instead, she felt even more entrapped by her family’s scheming. “If you do your duty well, if you manage to make him love you, then… no one would have to die.”

Responsibility fell on Daenys like a stone. 

In her younger years, she had never even imagined herself marrying someone that wasn’t Aemond. As the king’s third daughter, not much was expected of her in terms of alliances with other Great Houses, as she offered little value in that regard. Now, however, it seemed that she had become her family’s strongest asset to secure peace between the two factions beginning to form. 

“I don’t want Aegon to die,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“I know, my love,” Alicent replied with a sad smile that reflected the look in her eyes.

Daenys swallowed. “You say I must make him love me, but… what if I never love him?”

The queen took a deep breath as she raised from the chair. Bending over her daughter’s body, she kissed the girl’s forehead.

“Then you will love the children he gives you, and that shall be enough.”

______________________________________________

Watching her family sail away across the bay caused Daenys a kind of pain she had never experienced before. After trying to keep a stiff lip as she said goodbye to her siblings and other members of the royal court, it was in the solitude of the lookout that she finally allowed herself to cry for her family. At the foot of the crag, Silverwing wailed as she watched the other dragons return home.

“I figured I would find you here.”

Daenys tensed immediately, not needing to turn around. She knew who it was.

“You were very brave, you know?” Rhaenyra said, finding a place next to her sister but keeping her distance. “Goodbyes are always painful.”

Daenys couldn’t remember the last time she had spoken to Rhaenyra. Their relationship had always been strained, despite living in the same castle. Whenever Daenys showed any interest in getting close to her half-sister, her mother was quick to nip it in the bud. Over time, this led to Daenys feeling nervous whenever she found herself in Rhaenyra's presence, as if something horrible might happen as a result of a simple conversation.

“Will I be allowed to ride my dragon?” the girl asked, eyes still fixed on the ship as it got further and further.

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

“I might try to escape,” she replied simply. A small smile tugged at Rhaenyra’s lips, but Daenys didn’t see it.

“You’re not a prisoner, Daenys. You can visit your family as much as you’d like,” the woman explained.

This new information perked Daenys’ interest, her eyes finally meeting Rhaenyra’s.

“Then why must I go with you now? Why can’t I stay with my family until it’s time?” she asked, and it angered her that she could already feel her eyes welling up with tears again.

Rhaenyra breathed through her nose, trying to find the right words.

“I suggested to Father that it would be better for the two of you to become friends before you are to wed. I wouldn’t want my son to marry a stranger.”

Daenys’ gaze turned back to the horizon; she couldn’t see the ship anymore. The girl held back her tears. 

As she bitterly accepted the fact that her family was truly gone, Alicent’s words resonated in her head: This betrothal could mean the difference between life and death for this family. When she looked back up at Rhaenyra, she wondered if the woman in front of her would be capable of putting her brothers to the sword. The kindness in her eyes made it difficult to fathom, leaving Daenys to ponder whether it was truthful, or just an act.

“I’m upset about Luke hurting Aemond. It was a horrible thing to do,” Daenys blurted out after a moment of silence. 

Rhaenyra cast her gaze downward, as if ashamed. 

“I know. It was… a confrontation that should have never happened. Both parties made mistakes last night,” she said. It bothered Daenys that Rhaenyra would compare a paternity rumor with losing an eye, but she understood what it would mean for her claim if the realm knew her sons were no true Velaryons. “But you need to make an effort and leave it in the past, or else you’ll spend the rest of your life reliving what happened.”

This betrothal could mean the difference between life and death for this family.

Daenys nodded. “I will try.”

Rhaenyra smiled sadly at her sister, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, her thumb rubbing softly at it.

“This time together will help both of you, you’ll see,” she assured. “It is a great opportunity to get to know each other. You might find you have more in common than you think.”

“Doesn’t he hate me?” Daenys asked. “I haven’t always been kind.”

Rhaenyra smiled at the girl’s question. She knew something Daenys didn’t. 

“He doesn’t,” she simply replied.

_______________________________________________

Days turned into weeks after their arrival at Dragonstone—a place Daenys had visited hundreds of times on dragonback, but never with the intention of staying. She was given her own room, near Rhaena’s, as it had been decided that Baela would stay at Driftmark after the tragic death of Ser Laenor, the last living child of Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys.

Rhaenyra and Daemon’s wedding had been a strange affair. The speed with which it had taken place, only a day after Laenor’s death, left Daenys with a feeling of uneasiness, wondering how it was possible to move on so quickly from such a tragedy.

Despite her initial efforts to please and fit in, she found it increasingly difficult to adapt to her new life. Each morning presented a bigger challenge than the last, until Daenys reached the point where she couldn't even leave her bed, sometimes for the entire day. She had completely lost her appetite, and once overheard the maester telling Rhaenyra that she might get sick if she continued this way. She had promised her half-sister that she wasn’t doing it on purpose and that tomorrow she would try again, but every time tomorrow came, Daenys was unable to keep her promise.

At night, she dreamed of her mother’s hands stroking her hair, of Helaena’s warmth next to her when they shared the bed during cold nights, Aemond’s stories that he seemed to never run out of, and even Aegon’s unfunny jokes that always made her roll her eyes.

That night, however, something was stopping Daenys from finding sleep: she could hear Silverwing’s song, calling for her rider to fly with her again. The girl hadn’t visited her dragon in weeks, something unprecedented since they had bonded two years before, which contributed to her feeling guilty and miserable in equal measure. 

Unwilling to continue tossing and turning, she decided to finally leave her bed in search of a solution, hoping that the cover of night would spare her from encountering anyone.

The corridors of the Dragonstone castle were dark and sinuous like a dragon’s throat, and the lack of windows in the impenetrable fort made Daenys feel like she was being swallowed as she made her way downstairs to the kitchens. There, she found two kitchen maids: one old and gray, the other younger, with a pointy nose and wondering eyes that pierced hers as soon as she crossed the threshold. Daenys froze like a deer sensing a predator.

“I… Can I have some warm milk? I can’t find sleep,” she requested.

“Of course, Princess, but you shouldn’t come down here; it’s not a place for a girl of your station,” the younger one said, as the older woman poured milk into a pot over the hearth.

“It’s no bother,” she began to say, but was quickly cut off by the older woman.

“We must insist, Your Grace,” she said. “If Princess Rhaenyra finds out you’ve been here…”

“She won’t find out, because I will say nothing of it, and I would assume neither will you,” Daenys stated, the dim light in the room helping hide the pink of her cheeks for speaking so boldly. Taking a step forward, she propped herself on a wooden stool, her girlish legs dangling back and forth.

After sharing a look, the women provided what Daenys had requested: a glass of warm milk with honey that would put her to sleep right away. They watched her as she drank, perhaps wary of the young princess not liking the beverage, and smiled with relief when she thanked them for it.

She was making her way back to her chambers, already drowsy as the warmth of the milk soothed the tightness of her chest, when she heard voices coming from what she knew were Jacaerys��� quarters. The door was ajar and, as she got closer, curiosity getting the best of her, she identified the second voice as Rhaenyra’s.

“—I just thought it would be different,” Jace was saying, distress tinting his voice.

“I know, my love. I did warn you not to get your hopes up too high, imagine how you would feel if this had happened the other way around. I am sure you would also feel quite miserable in King’s Landing without your brothers, or without me.”

Afer a moment of silence in which Daenys feared she had been caught, Jace asked, “Do you think she’ll ever stop hating me?”

“I don’t think she hates you, Jace. She’s just scared, and sad, and confused… but hate is too big of a word.”

“But you heard what Maester Gerardys said. If she continues like this, she might die. And it would be my fault,” he stated. He sounded on the verge of tears, and guilt settled on Daenys like a kick in the gut.

“He did not say such a thing, dear, you’re exaggerating,” his mother refuted, trying to calm him. “What the maester said was that she might get sick, which is true, but I would never allow the situation to get to that point. If she cannot find the strength to get better, I will send her back to King’s Landing.”

Daenys’ heartbeat quickened when she heard that, but Jace’s words didn’t even let a smile form on her face.

“You cannot,” he blurted out immediately. “Please, Mother, you promised. You’ve seen the way they treat her. They either ignore her, or punish her for every single thing her siblings do.”

“I know, my love, but it is not your duty to save her. Not for now, at least…”, the woman said. “Daenys is a tough girl, Jace.”

“But she doesn’t need to be tough here. No one would mistreat her if she would only— if she would only let us—”

“I know, sweet boy,” said Rhaenyra.

Daenys felt a strange surge of defensiveness at the mention of her family, but a little voice inside her head—her rational side, perhaps—told her that, deep down, she knew Jace was right. Despite how hard she tried to make it seem like she did not care when her family mistreated her, she did. She cared deeply and suffered for it, and the fact that Jace seemed so genuinely upset about it was as confusing as it was endearing.

When Jace spoke again, his voice sounded muffled, as if he was now in his mother’s arms. Daenys wondered what it would feel like to be hugged by Rhaenyra.

“She said sorry for Ser Harwin. At Lady Laena’s funeral.”

A beat.

“That was a very kind thing to do,” Rhaenyra said. “She wouldn’t have said it if she hated you, would she?”

“No,” Jace said. “I suppose not.”

_______________________________________________

Daenys saw genuine delight spread all over her handmaiden’s features when she came into her chamber the next morning to find her already up and ready for a much needed bath.

When she entered the dining hall everyone was already there, ready to break their fast. Her cheeks lit up in shades of pink as they welcomed her, the sincerity in their cheerful comments warming Daenys’ heart.

“What an honor it is that you’ve finally deemed us worthy of your company, Princess,” said Daemon, kindly pulling Daenys’ chair for her to sit on. Another might have found the comment as an ill willed one, but Daenys knew that was Daemon’s way of expressing affection while keeping his facade. 

“Leave her be, husband,” warned Rhaenyra, her tone relaxed. With a kind smile, she put her hand on her half-sister’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, sweetling.”

Jace smiled at her and, to her own surprise, Daenys smiled back.

The breakfast went by smoothly, and Daenys ate her weight in duck eggs, blood pudding, bread with butter and honey, and the most delicious blackberry cakes she had ever tasted. She even licked her fingers when she finished, and the sight made Luke laugh so hard that the milk he was drinking came out of his nose.

After they all had finished, Daenys excused herself from the table.

“I would like to ride my dragon, if you don’t mind, Princess,” she told Rhaenyra. “I will stay close. Won’t fly further than Massey’s Hook, I promise.”

Rhaenyra smiled. “You don’t need my permission, sweetling.”

Gathering all the bravery she thought she possessed, Daenys asked for something else.

“Can Jace come?”

Rhaenyra raised her brows slightly, clearly surprised at the girl’s sudden change of attitude.

“Mother doesn’t let me ride Vermax that far…” said Jace, embarrassment turning his cheeks a bright red.

After a glance at Daemon, Rhaenyra breathed through her nose.

“Well, perhaps an exception can be made on a day such as today,” she said.

Jace’s face brightened up immediately, and he shot up from his chair to join Daenys. Luke protested as the pair left the hall, whining as he demanded the same exception be made with him as well, but Rhaena managed to convince him that archery training was equally as exciting.

As she watched the children go, Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief. 

_______________________________________________

Across the bay, in a dimly lit room within the Red Keep, Princess Helaena muttered to herself.

“The tears of a dragon cannot extinguish the flame destined to set the world ablaze.”

_______________________________________________

Aaaaaand we've reached the end of childhood! The next chapter will take place after the 6-year time jump, aka, the kids will all be as old as they are right now in the show, more or less.

I hope this was a good enough introduction to the different dynamics between Daenys and the other characters!

If you liked this, let me know in any way! :)

Series Taglist: @void21, @burningwitchobject, @hellish-idiot

[orangeocelotmartyn]

The start of something new (Garbage Rat, Martyn, and Ren triangle)

trancript under the cut

Oli: Have you seen a Rat-tic around here, because I told one of them there would be one. Water: I don't know what that is-- Eloise: No, but you know who I have found? I found Mratyn-I found Mratyn, and Will! Oli: Marty! Eloise: Everybody's here, yeah, Marty-- Oli: Marty's here. Marty from the good ole days! (begins playing a quiet clip of applause) Eloise: He looks a bit different, though, he looks a bit different, and I think he's got-I think he's got a boyfriend. Oli: (shuts off the sound of the applause) Wait, what. Eloise: I don't know, he just kept calling him all these pet names like "Big J" and "Captain," but I might be misinterpreting that. Oli: But he didn't call him anything like "O-Dawg," or-or "Garbage Rat," did he? Cause that's my names, he wouldn't use those on someone else. (he plays a clip of an audience 'aw'ing) Eloise: No, he didn't call him that. Oli: Oh, well, that's good, that's nice, I'd love to see Marty.

---

Oli: Don't worry guys, I'm gonna free you! Bek: Help me! Martyn: (through disbelieving laughter) You've gotta be joking--you've gotta be kidding, Garbage Rat! Oli: (joyously) Marty! Martyn: (laughing) What are you doing here! Oli: I've been here the wh--two weeks now, getting drunk on wine! And forgetting stuff. Martyn: What is the--right-- Oli: What happened to your eye? It go the same way as mine? Martyn: I don't wanna talk about it. Captain, if we're gonna recruit anybody, this is our guy-- Ren: Who is the loud one? Martyn: --This is our guy! Oli: You've not found another-- Ren: Reveal yourself loud one! Oli: Hello its me the Garbage Rat I eat the garbage. And what is your name sailor? Ren: Hello Garbage Rat, I am Admiral Jaque Levy La'rat. Oli: No way. And what are you doing with my boy? Ren: (clears throat) He's the Lieutenant on my-my vessel. I picked him up a few weeks ago out in the middle of the ocean, he was in half a tennis ball floating around and it was quite pathetic. Oli: No way...that's quite the step up from being a highway rat. Martyn: Ehh--that's the first time you've described it as pathetic, I don't think I like that. Bek: Bit embarrassing Martyn. Ren: Highway rat, what--? Oli: I actually never called him pathetic--

---

Oli: -friends everywhere we go-- Martyn: Garbage Rat! Oli: Oh my god, Captain, my Captain. (Martyn: Oh.) Hello. Ren: It's the Garbage one again, hello! Martyn: Oh, two seconds, Will! (Will: Okay!) Oli: Hello, you found yourself--you guys find yourself a ship to commandeer yet, you found yourself a highway to man? Martyn: Ah, we-- Ren: We find ourself a perfect spot to rebuild. Martyn: Yeah, we found a plot. We got home and a plot. We're gonna go to the kitchen with Will, wanna come? Ren: I would like, I would like to add, Mister Garbage, that you look magnificent on our boat. I mean, look--the three of us together, side by side, as the pirate crew is there no better-- Oli: Yeah...ey, ey now, I love pirating, I love stealing, I love robbing, I love eating. I'm all those things, but water is not a thing that I enjoy, my sweet croissant. Yeah. Water-- Martyn: Yeah, he's got a past with, uh, flushers. Oli: Drowning, flushes, the whole-- Ren: I understand. Oli: --nine yards, yeah. I shall not be going anything that could have whirlpools. Ren: Out on the high seas, some might call you a Coward. Martyn: Ooh. Oli: Well. In the garbage bin, somebody might call you a corpse. But I ain't gonna make it happen. (Martyn laughs in surprise) Martyn: Yikes. I should step in here, but I don't wanna, I wanna see what happens. Ren: My words. I've never heard such intimidation before. Oli: It's been a good few years. I've faced a lot of creatures in my time. I remember when we were-- Ren: Alright, well Mister Garbage, I'd be happy to have you as an ally on shore, in that case. Oli: I would love to be an ally on shore. And if you--

[zirconika]

nine lives of a thief

ONE | living in high cotton

NAVIGATION . MASTERLIST

This chapter is part of a series entitled 'Nine Lives of a Thief,’ but you may choose to read each part as a oneshot. Click the link to view the series masterlist!

PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader WORDS: 4.1k SUMMARY: Years after your first love broke your heart, you’re stunned to see him among the newly welcomed group of survivors in Alexandria, and his return might just be the cure to your heart that’s been malfunctioning ever since he left. Your personal goal to put everything in the past is interrupted by his mission to win you back. WARNINGS: Major angst in progress. Talks of a miscarriage and a former abusive relationship. SETTING: First few weeks in Alexandria and pre-apocalypse flashbacks

The last time you spoke to each other, the two of you were getting high in your parents’ Chevrolet Cavalier that you stole. On your ring finger rested a bejeweled stone he’d given you, promising you his love. 

I’m gonna marry ‘ya, he had told you. You believed him more than you believed any god in your life. You were going somewhere far away together, ready to leave behind the life both of you had. To him, leaving meant leaving Merle. But to you? It meant leaving everything behind.

And now, there you were. You no longer sported the voluminous curls the eighties deemed fancy, your face was bare, and you were older. He couldn’t take your eyes off you, and he wondered if you could also tell how much he’d changed ever since…

Well, ever since he ditched you. And most of all, he wondered if you were still carrying the same indignation you had when he left.

For the first time, your eyes laid on him from afar. Of all the many survivors you expected to find within the walls of Alexandria, you didn’t expect this damn asshole.

He watched as your face went from bliss to raw recognition, his heart thumping faster and heavier in every passing second you didn’t dare to walk over to him, until you did.

Oh, he didn’t know what to make of the world around him as you came closer. It was just like seeing you for the first time again, but this time he was begging the Earth to swallow him whole. 

By the time you were standing in front of him, the archer was at a loss of things to say, but also the power of saying it. Seconds passed and a look of doubt and uncertainty kept flashing on his face, and yet nothing came out of his mouth. 

You were just as bad. God, you hated the feeling in your bones that wanted to throw your arms over his shoulder. He was alive and breathing. The closest thing you could do was give him a tight smile.

“Hi,” you tell him with a smile. “I—uh, it’s been, what, thirty years?”

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh, and he was grateful to all the saints and gods in the world no matter how much he lacked faith that some force of destiny had brought him here, and that you were still safe. 

The weight in his chest was slowly beginning to lift. Maybe it really is all in the past. 

“Yeah, m’still Daryl, though. You?”

You chuckle. “Still [Y/N], sadly. Y’know, uh, I was actually just about to head out to the porch with a beer. You…wanna come with me?”

Then came the weight. You noticed rigidity returning to Daryl’s stance, and you instantly regretted having asked. 

You chuckle nervously. “You don’t have to, I just… Thought you looked—”

He shook his head to assure you. “Nah, yeah, I wanna come with ‘ya. Let’s go.”

The air was cold, but it didn’t bother you as much in the presence of Daryl Dixon. You wanted to beat yourself over the fact that he had so much control over you all thanks to the scent of his you could recognize anywhere. Heck, you smelled him before you saw him. The moment that you got a whiff of him just a few minutes ago, you knew you were bound to crumble. It’s only thanks to the bottle of beer in your hand that you’re able to comfort yourself.

He leans against the porch’s post as you lean opposite him. He’d changed indeed. You eye him with deliberation: his hair was darker, longer. Wrinkles were present in places where you used to kiss him. You shake the thought away. “Not surprised you’re a survivor.”

An unsaid anguish hung between the two of you. Daryl crossed his arms to gnaw at his thumb. He never seemed to outgrow that habit, and you couldn’t help but feel comfort from the familiarity.

“Have ‘ya been here right from the start?” he asked to break the ice, taking a sip from his bottle so he’d have something to do with his hands when you spoke.

“Yeah, I—uh—bought a lot here when they were still preselling, so I got it for a pretty good deal.” You shrugged. Moving away from the post you were leaning on, Daryl thought you were going to leave with no farewell, but instead you just set the beer down. “Y’know the house you and your folks holed up together in? That was mine.”

You could see heat rush to his face, and you could tell he felt bad over the prospect of you giving up your house for them. Daryl’s shoulders tensed. “They kicked ‘ya outta yer own house?”

You shake your head with a smile. “No, it’s not like that. I volunteered to give it up. I moved to a smaller house. I’ve been dying for an excuse to leave that house, anyway.”

“Why’d ‘ya wanna leave? It’s a big house,” he observed. It is a big house. It catered to the entirety of their group with no problems.

“Because it’s a big house,” you answered as-a-matter-of-factly. Living alone in that shell of a home haunted you in more ways than one. At one point, you felt as if there was a ghost upstairs because you had never bothered to visit it. 

Daryl paused. You had to glance his way to check on him. He seemed to be debating on whether or not he should ask something until he decided on doing so. He needed answers. “What about your…family?”

He’d been trying to forget that the last time he really saw you was years after he’d left you. It was in a grocery store, and you were shopping for baby diapers while caressing your belly. And then he was on the run with Merle again.

That was ten years ago, some time before the turn. Daryl assumed one of the kids he ran into was yours, or maybe you’d tucked him or her to bed. He knew nothing about you.

“Oh, it’s just me.”

It was clear Daryl had more questions, but you figured he deserved to know at least a little bit of your recent history. 

“It’s alright to be curious, y’know. Husband ditched when he knocked up his work wife. Good riddance.” You hated that you were only relieved to find out he’d left. It wasn’t standard for a woman to rejoice upon discovery that she’d been left for another woman, but it meant freedom. 

Daryl nodded slowly, processing it all in his mind. He couldn’t believe it, any of it. He’d been living on the belief that you were better off. That you were happy.

You sipped from your beer again. “I didn’t really mind, and taking care of the divorce papers proved to be a good distraction. Plus, I got the house and the car so I’m not really complaining. He did get our vacation cabin in Vermont, though. But what good is it for now, right?”

“Right,” he scoffed. And he didn’t want to ask, but he decided to maximize your go signal to ask anything. “What about… What about your kid?”

You raised a brow. “You know about that?”

“M’sorry,” he hurriedly said, shaking his head. “Ya don’t have to tell me anythin’ about that.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” You waved a dismissing hand. It surprised you that you were no longer as affected as you were then. It no longer pained you to talk about her. “She died the minute she came into the world.”

“I’m sorry.” The image of you shopping for diapers came to Daryl’s mind. At the time, it seemed that you were happy, and maybe he was right. But the more he knew about you, the more he began to doubt that your life was better the moment he left it. 

All the time you spent apart, Daryl concocted an image of you tending to your sweet and happy family in the suburbs, busy sending your kids to school and celebrating every anniversary with your husband in different countries every single year.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you said with a smile. You’ve moved on from it, really. “It was for the best. Can you imagine raising a kid in this mess?”

Daryl made no comment whatsoever, but you remembered that his gang had brought a teenager and an infant. 

You sigh. “Sorry. But you get it.”

“S’fine, yer right anyway.” Daryl took a sip from his bottle. “You should meet ‘em sometime.”

You nodded in response, and he watched as you subconsciously and subtly knocked on your chest. It was one of those things he’d gotten used to seeing you do back then, and he never got to ask why you constantly did it. It didn’t feel like a big deal to ask now, so he let it slide, simply grateful for the opportunity of seeing the little parts that made you who you are once more.

“Geez, I think I gotta lay off the beer,” you said, settling it down on the floorboards.

He nodded. “Right, good call.”

“So, how’s my house?” you started. Daryl knew the time for him asking you questions was over, at least for now. He respected that.

“S’good, there’s plenty of space for us all,” Daryl answered. “Though I gotta be honest, ‘ya gotta give us some time to warm up to it.”

You give him a warm smile. “I get that.”

“But it is cozy,” he added. You don’t know what he meant by it, but a playful grin rested on his mischievous lips. “Pretty far from the camper van ‘ya said ‘ya wanted to live in forever.”

“We’re gonna run away and we’ll just…I don’t know, steal one of those camper vans and go anywhere together!” you had told him when you let him put the ring on your finger, wearing a smile you were so sure you’d never have to bother removing.

You stared at him a little longer than you intended to. You notice the mole he had just shy above his smirk that slowly faltered. You used to love kissing that very spot. No, don’t think about that.

Fuck. “M’sorry, didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” you laughed, waving your hand in the air to assure him. “I’m just surprised you remember.”

His shoulders relaxed, but the guilt that accompanied him in every journey he’d taken on never left. If anything, he felt its weight more so now that he’s found himself in front of you again. 

“Yeah, well, how could I not?” 

“To be fair, you did drive away in my car while I was getting nachos.” You had to look away this time, bringing your attention to the gates in the distance. 

Daryl froze. He wasn’t stupid, but he might as well have been. He knew what it looked like to you all these years, and for the first time in a long time he thought once more about how you must have felt in the parking lot, searching for half an hour only to realize you were all alone miles away from home.

It was too late to explain himself, but he could at least try. 

“M’sorry about what I did,” he said carefully. “I was an idiot for that. M’just glad to know you’ve been alright all these years.”

He didn’t mention noticing your jaw tightening as you smiled at him, but he also realized how much of a bad choice it was to comment that you’ve been alright. There was a story in that expression of yours somewhere, he knew that. It just wasn’t the time to ask about it more. 

“It’s fine, really,” you told him. “It’s in the past, it’s been decades. We’re adults. And it’s the least of our problems now, I mean, we got the dead walking for fuck’s sake!”

You laugh in disbelief, and so does he. It was so easy, so natural. Suddenly, you were seventeen in the passenger seat right next to Daryl fucking Dixon singing Boys Don’t Cry by The Cure as it played in the car stereo. 

No.

This shouldn’t be real, you thought to yourself. You’d put him in the deepest, darkest pit in your mind and in your heart. Daryl coming back was a blessing and a curse. Though you were grateful to discover that he was a survivor, his presence ached you deeply.

It dug out every single memory from your past you’d tried so hard to bury. Your smile faltered as you felt the past blending with the present. 

Daryl noticed the change, so you spoke before he could. 

“I should get going now,” you announced with a forced smile, a little bit louder than you intended as your mind was preoccupied thinking of an excuse. “I gotta go home!”

“Want me to walk with ‘ya?” You could see a grin growing on his damned lips. It was like being brought back to the past. You knew this scene somewhere, and you hated that you liked it.

“Well, I—it’s fine!” 

“S’fine to walk with ‘ya or s’not fine to walk with ‘ya?” he asked, but it was more of a challenge. Usually, you knew what to say and how to say it. You were just that kind of person, it was even something you were proud of.

“Erm,” you gulped. 

This was not one of those ‘usual’ moments.

You wanted to return to the party, but you couldn’t just say that—you’d already taken one step down, away from the porch! 

You look back at him to explain yourself as you walk a little bit farther every single time. You were going the wrong direction, but you decided that it was too late to go the right way. You’d just have to make a round trip across Alexandria. “I got this…thing. In my stomach. I have to, you know. And I’m tired, so I guess I’ll—!”

“Nah, seriously, I insist.” Daryl had made up his mind the minute he asked. He brought the half empty bottle of beer with him as he walked ahead of you. 

You scoffed. “Fine.”

Though Daryl seemed to have built this wall around himself, you could still see rays of his stubbornness. It used to be something you’d fight over, but also solely for the purpose of kissing and making up.

The first half minute of the walk was silent, and you hated how peaceful and at ease you felt. It should have felt unbearable, uncomfortable. Daryl had a way with his presence you never realized you’d been missing until now that you have it again.

You tell yourself it’s just the severity of being your first love, but it was more than that. You waited for a couple of seconds to pass before deciding that this idiot wasn’t gonna make conversation despite insisting to walk you home.

“So, the outside,” you started. “How long have you and your people been out there?”

“For a while. The longest home we had was a prison.”

“You were…in jail?” you asked hesitantly. You knew of his criminal record, but you didn’t consider for a moment that he’d been behind bars this entire time.

“No,” he answered. “Just found shelter there.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know you’d find a grin on his face. His stupid, stupid, stupid face. “Ya thought I was in prison?”

“No! Just when you mentioned it. Then just now, I thought it made sense why I never heard from you.”

Daryl stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He’d thought you wanted nothing to do with him. “You were expecting to?”

Maybe it was wrong to confess something like that. “A postcard would’ve been nice.”

“Didn’t know where ‘ya lived.” He shrugged, even though he wanted to admit that he assumed you no longer wanted to hear news about his whereabouts. 

“Well, you knew about my kid. What’s that about?” You’d been meaning to ask, but you couldn’t find the opening. 

The archer halted, looking for an escape hatch. 

I heard from a friend? No, he didn’t. The honest answer would’ve been that Daryl wanted to reach out to you but bailed when he discovered the good life you were blessed with. The life Merle said you’d be robbed of having had you run away with Daryl.

But Daryl wasn’t an honest man, at least not tonight.

“I didn’t know, I just guessed.”

And of course, you let him lie. “Right. And you wanted to walk me home because…?”

“I wanted to.” Daryl had not yet toured the entirety of the neighborhood, but it felt like a pretty long walk for a walk home. Just when he’s about to ask, you reach the small apartment buildings just across Deanna’s house. The two of you had just done a round trip of Alexandria. You were just right across the street.

He wanted to ask why you’d taken the long route when you’d seemed so eager to be away from him earlier that night, but he knew exactly why. 

You were never able to make the sane decisions when you were with him. 

You stop in front of your home. “Well, this is me.”

“M’kay, I’ll see ‘ya around.” The archer gave you a tight smile, raising his hand as a wave right before turning around to make his way to the gate. 

“Daryl,” you called. And he’s glad you did. “Have you been well? Ever since?”

He thought of Merle. Beth. Herschel. Everyone they lost. When you were younger, you changed him. That change was undone when he left, ruining everything you’d built together. But this time, the man you built before was slowly returning. 

Has he been well? Daryl knew better than to disagree. 

The archer stared up at you one step away, curious if his eyes were deceiving him by letting him see you again. “Yeah, I’ve been alrigh’.”

“Okay,” you say, half-satisfied. “I had fun. Bye, Daryl.”

And Daryl watched as you hurriedly got inside your home. You didn’t know it yet, but something inside him sparked bright with ambition. This wasn’t the end of it.

Mornings in Alexandria were particularly slow in the most comfortable way possible. It unnerved Daryl; something about going on his day ‘normally’ felt alien, out of place. Thus, he’d often step out for long hours to ‘hunt,’ when really he could be back anytime he wanted with his stellar skill in the craft. 

He wouldn’t say it, but he just felt suffocated in Alexandria. Some would argue that the apocalypse wired him to be the way he was now, but a part of him would beg to disagree. He would’ve felt smothered had he found himself inside the damn gated community way before the turn. 

And that’s precisely why he’d fallen prey to Merle’s argument about you that fateful day he left.

“What, ‘ya think a girl like [Y/N]’s gonna be fine livin’ off pot? Nah, brother. She’s been livin’ in high cotton her entire life. Girls like her were made for them nice houses with picket fences married to a fancy man who works in a bank. How’s that g’nna work, huh? Hell, yer the kind who robs one!”

Daryl had been so sure he made the right choice then…

“Something bothering you?” Carol asked the archer, just leaving the house in complete uniform looking very much like a sweet, harmless housewife. 

“Nah.” Daryl looked up behind him as he sat on his haunches, cigarette in his loose hand as if it was an extension of himself. “Didn’t feel like goin’ out today, but I didn’t feel like stayin’ here, either.”

“You could take a shower,” said Carol. Daryl grunted, and she only smiled, knowing where to direct the conversation to. “Maybe then you could finally ask out your pretty neighbor.”

“What?” Daryl spun, standing up to meet Carol at eye-level. He didn’t want anyone to know of his past, much less see a part of it. Suddenly, everything felt real. You felt real. You were, but it pained him to admit that he hasn’t yet been able to say everything he’s wanted to say in every single day that haunted him when he left. 

Carol, on the other hand, had thought nothing of it for the past week. Though she wondered if there was more to the story, she resorted to assuming Daryl simply liked the Alexandrian. But Carol wasn’t stupid, she knew now for sure that there was something deeper.

“See, I was making conversation with everybody. I heard from Sally that [Y/N] was supposed to bring cookies, but she burnt them too much.” Carol wanted to laugh at how serious her friend looked, eager to hear more. “So, I wanted to help her out and Sasha said she saw her leave with you.”

“S’that it? All of it?” Daryl asked, his voice grim. 

Carol crossed her arms, raising her brow in question. “That’s all of it for me, what’s all of it for you?”

The archer trudged down the stairs of the porch, tossing the cigar on the floor as he did so. “Nothing.”

“The house we’re staying at,” Carol started, just enough to get Daryl to stop in his tracks. “That house is hers, isn’t it?”

Daryl paused. “Ya heard some of it?”

“I may have heard some of it,” she said. “I might have even heard…all of it? Before you walked her home?”

“Damn it, Carol!” he groaned in exasperation. There was no point in denying it now. Carol knew something, and knowing her, Daryl knew she’d been observing you ever since that night. No lie would slide past that woman no matter how hard he tried.

“So?”

Daryl looked around him, checking if someone else was listening into their conversation. “The garage,” he said. And so they went.

When they got inside, Carol was surprised to find a brand new motorcycle. She ran to its side, eyeing the shine on the body. “Oh, she’s pretty! Where’d you get her from?”

“I know,” Daryl exclaimed. “Aaron, he… He wants me to look for survivors with him instead of—Ow!”

Carol punched his arm, her eyes wide in defiance and her mouth grinning wide. “You’re trying to change the subject!”

“Am not,” he defended, feeling his arm with his hand. That woman was a nut, and she was getting an answer whether he wanted to or not. “Fine. Just the short version.”

She crossed her arms again, making her outfit look more like a costume than a uniform. “Alright, what’s the story?”

He didn’t want to tell it, but somehow he felt he needed to. Daryl was used to bottling his secrets in the belief that he could carry it all on his own. He couldn’t. It just so happened that it was your history together that had the most effect on him. 

“We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Daryl started. His heart was begging to be released into the wild where it could be free. Telling this part of his life was something he’d never bothered to let out. Heck, he’d never even thought about it to himself in a long time. He treated it like a dream he was starting to forget but couldn’t. “I was trynna win her when we grew up, and I—we dated. For some time. Then we were gonna run away together. She was the one who wanted to; stole her parents’ car ‘n everythin’, brought a wad load of cash. I gave her a ring I saved up for, and we were gonna go far away. We hopped two states. Then I… And… I just—she was one of those kids from a well off family, alrigh’? And I was…intimidated.”

Though Carol found herself smiling for the first half, she didn’t like where this story was going. “What did you do?”

Daryl stilled himself for what was about to come out next, from his mouth and Carol’s.

“I left her while we were two states away from home. She was shoppin’ for groceries while I was in the parkin’ lot. I drove away. With the car. And the cash. Never looked back.”

The next thing he knew, his friend had planted a hard slap across his face. And he knew he deserved it. Heck, he deserved worse than that. Maybe even deserved to die for it, now that he knew the life you were left to live wasn’t exactly paradise.

Daryl Dixon was a coward.

Daryl Dixon was stupid for assuming he could even win you back.

And most of all, you would be just as stupid if you let him.

i'm still building my blog. so for now, just send me an ask to be added to my taglist :)

DARYL DIXON TAGLIST: @vaniniweenie

[lostcherise]

Overcome

Summary: In which Jesse accepts the money Walt gives him and decides he deserves a second chance in life, but only if he gets to have it with you.

Warnings: mentions of drug overdose, mentions of future miscarriage, angst with fluff, this is post s5e8 (gliding over all) but the nazis never happened

Word count: 5,397

A/N: this is loosely inspired by one of my favorite songs from my favorite band and some lyrics used throughout the story will be written in italics. Hope you enjoy!!

Whoever was at your front door sure seemed to be persistent. Persistent enough to wake you from your peaceful slumber at - you glanced over at your digital alarm clock - 3:38 A.M. Great, just fucking great. With a grunt, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, the wooden floor cold against your bare feet. You narrowed your eyes at the metal baseball bat that rested next to your bedside table. For a second, you thought about not taking it with you, but no intruder would be polite enough to knock before they came barging in. But then again, given the crazy life you've had this past year, it was better being safe than sorry.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

With heavy steps, you trudged down the stairs as the banging grew louder and more frantic, feeling somewhat grateful your aunt was working the graveyard shift at the hospital that night, and you were alone. You swiftly unlocked the door, positioning your bad high above your head, ready to bust heads open, and opened the door.

"Jesse?" you were stunned, to say the least. He hadn't spoken to you in almost two months, and now he was standing at your front door, at the crack ass of dawn. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Come with me." his voice was pleading and frantic at the same time.

"Co- go where?" you raised your voice. He had basically dropped off the face of Earth for the hundredth time and as always he expected you'd come running after him. Because that's what you did.

"I don't know." he sounded frustrated but it seemed to be directed mores so to himself rather you. "Anywhere!"

"Jesse, why don't we backtrack a little, okay? Come in, let's discuss this inside."

"No, no." he shook his head, his eyes were wide. Although he was acting strange, he didn't seem high, a state you had seen him in multiple times. Something else seemed to be bothering him, but you refused to go anywhere without any explanation.

"For fuck's sake! Look, I don't wanna fight, my money's in a bag in the back for you." he motioned at his parked car on the side of the sidewalk. "Let's go, now." this time he sounded defeated, almost like a lost child, and your heart ached for him. To deny all the hurt he'd been through would be a blatant lie.

"What money, Jesse?" you warily asked and hugged yourself. It was March and you were in a flimsy tattered t-shirt, and sweatpants, barefoot at that.

"Look, if you come, I'll explain on the way. You comin' or not?" he was growing impatient at your lack of cooperativeness.

"Jesse, I can't just up and leave! I have responsibilities." you countered.

"Oh, like what? Working at a strip club?" that was a low remark, even he knew that. You saw it in the way he grimaced, as instant regret kicked in, but you knew better than to get angry at him, he was kind of right.

"It's what's going to get me through nursing school, you of all people should know that." you shook your head, even if you couldn't get mad at him, you couldn't help but still be disappointed.

The first time your paths crossed were four years ago, you were fresh-faced and straight out of high school. Just barely legal. You had just moved to Albuquerque from Roswell at the first chance you got. The relationship with your parents was strained, so you could bet on the $300 in your pocket - that was all you had on you at that time - that your parents were on cloud nine the moment you had stepped foot out of the house. Thank God for your beloved aunt that had taken you in, or else you would've ended up living in a tent on the side of the street, addicted to the crystal. Not that landing a job as a stripper at 18 was the brightest idea, but old men loved spending the entirety of their pension on you, so the cash flow was good. Plus, you had a roof over your head at all times. So, in your mind that counted as doing okay.

Jesse had come in on your third day with his group of friends. Initially, you thought he was going to be just another sleazebag, which he was to an extent. However, he wouldn't bother you the same way the other patrons did, with you he seemed more reserved, which was very odd given how he was with the other girls. He would come in twice a week, just to see you, admire you on the pole. Then came the private dances, and after five ones, you guys would end up talking halfway through. After that, he would offer to buy you drinks in attempts to keep talking to you, and it worked. That was when the lines between customer and client started to blur and you entered the danger zone. From client, he became your dealer. You were the one who had approached him on the matter, just needed to get your hands on some weed to wind down. Then, came the crystal. Although, you ultimately decided that was not your thing, you hated how paranoid and anxious it made you, so you stuck with the occasional joint here and then. After that, from dealer he got upgraded to friend, and from friend you somehow ended up to now - whatever the hell now was.

See, you knew you cared for Jesse as more than just a friend and you liked to think that he did too. But you knew better than to go tredging that path, ultimately there was no happy ending for the two of you on the horizon, and that's what pained you the most.

"I'm sorry, it was out of line." Jesse looked sheepish. "But I have more than enough money to get you through nursing school and build a new life together a-"

"Why me?" you interrupted.

"What?"

"I mean, why with me?" you asked nonchalantly trying to fight the butterflies in your stomach.

"You know I can't do this without you. You and me, 'till the end of the line. Ride or die." Jesse's pleading eyes searched your own and you hated yourself for even considering his offer. Just like always, you were so willing to go after him, even if that meant him dragging you into the hellfire with him.

"I'll let you know by tomorrow, morning. Get some rest, Jesse." you sighed, closing the door and you went back up to bed. You tossed, and you turned on your bed for what seemed like eternity, as you tried to fight off the thoughts that kept you awake, finally giving up when you saw the sun creeping through your thick curtains. With a frustrated scream, you kicked the covers off of you and preactically leaped off your bed, You walked over to the small walk in closet opposite your bed. A small part of you was screaming at you, that this was wrong, the wrong thing to do.

Yes. Yes, it was.

But leaving Jesse on his own? That was something your love for him wouldn't allow you to do. Maybe, this was finally your way out and what if you were too blind to see? It was better to live with the consequences of bad choices, rather than the constant regret of not giving it a try, being plagued by the constant what ifs and could've beens.

You grabbed a large duffel bag on the top shelf and started mindlessly shoving in whatever article of clothing first came in your line of vision. Taking a step back, you took in the sight of your now half empty closet. It scared you how willing you were to pack up and leave everything behind. It's not like you were a first timer at this thing, you had done this before and you ended up okay.

The sound of the front door unlocking brought you back to reality. Shit, you had to tell your aunt.

"Hey, you're home." you greeted your aunt with a hug.

"Sweetie, why are you awake? Is everything okay?"

"Yes." she gave you a pointed look. "Well, not really." you admitted.

"Uh, how do I break this to you." you struggled to get the correct words out. "Jesse and I are leaving town." you exhaled, a small weight was lifted of your shoulders already. Still there was so much weighing you down, but she shouldn't know.

"Wha- when? Where are you going?" she couldn't mask the sadness in her voice. She never had children, but she loved you like her own and to leave so suddenly was a lot to take in for your aunt.

"We're thinking of, uh, road tripping across the West Coast." the lie came easy. "Take in new sceneries, you know youngster stuff." you tried to laugh off the tears that were beginning to brim your eyes.

Your aunt stood silent in front of you, she wasn't stupid by any means, she had suspected things about the kind of life Jesse was leading; she had tried to talk some sense into you when he had first came into the picture, but to no avail. So, she let you be, you were a big girl and you were going to learn on your own. And if there was one thing she knew best about you, is that once you had made up your mind, nothing was changing it back.

"Okay..." she trailed off, accepting your decision defeatedly. "Please be careful, that's all I ask." she said, before pulling you into a much needed hug.

"Yes, I promise I'll stay in touch." you hugged back tightly. She pulled back to take a look at you with a tearful smile, her lips quivered as she smiled, and you mirrored her reaction.

"I should better go, tell Jesse. Call at work later too." puffing out your cheeks as you exhaled. You wiped your palms on your thighs, they weren't dirty, it was just a habit you did when you were nervous.

Within thirty minutes, you found yourself in front of Jesse's front door, the duffel bag sitting heavy on your shoulder. You set the bag down and rang on his doorbell.

"You're here." Jesse greeted you with sunken eyes.

"Aren't I always?" you asked, it was more of a rhetorical question both of you knew the answer to. Jesse leaped into your arms and let out a choked sob, his sudden change of emotion made your chest tighten.

"I thought this time was going to be different." Jesse cried into your hair and took in a deep breath. The familiar smell of your vanilla coconut perfume calmed him a bit. You were his calm.

"For a moment, I thought so too." you admitted with tears of your own, silently rolling down your cheeks and pulled him in closer against your chest. Neither of you said another word, as you silently held each other, until Jesse decided to break away about a minute later.

"I'm ready to leave, like, right now." Jesse rested his forehead against yours, his striking blue eyes searching the comfort of your own. Briefly, he glanced down at your parted lips and thought about closing the gap, and enclose you in a fiery kiss.

But the romance thing never really went well with him, so if he got to keep you by his side as his friend, then he'd have to compromise. With a sigh, he shut his eyes and pushed those thoughts away.

"Let's go."

──────

The door thumped rhythmically, as you struggled to find Jesse's spare key. The 90lb clay pot that adorned his entrance scraped against his porch, as you struggled to push it to the side. A single key lay beneath.

Soon, you were met with an unquestionable stench. It smelled like sweat, drugs and rotten food. You gagged at the state of Jesse's living room, unfamiliar bodies laying on top of another, trash and food strewn all across the floor - which was suspiciously sticky.

Your breath got caught in your throat once you caught sight of Jesse. He was slumped against a giant speaker, his chest moving rapidly. Your legs almost froze in place, it was the first time you had seen him so out of it, so lost in the blue that he was losing himself. He groaned softly, and threw his head back as he struggled for breath. Within seconds, you were by his side cradling his head.

God, he was burning.

He moaned in pain and held your hands. He tried to hold your gaze, but his eyes kept rolling back in his skull, you were losing him.

"I'm dying. I'm dyi-" he cried out and gasped for air.

"Stay with me Jesse, please." you cried, as you dialed 911. "Help is on the way." you reassured him as you held him against you.

Jesse turned to look at you when you sat down in front of him, breaking him out of his memory.

"Hey, whatcha thinkin' bout?" Sliding a steaming cup of coffee across the small motel room table, you gave him a soft smile.

"About that time you found me when I was overdosing." he tried to match your smile, but his pained eyes had something else to say. He chuckled to himself and took a much needed sip before he spoke. "I know this mind sound cheesy as gell, but-" he paused to look deeply into your eyes. "You're like a bringer of the calm, you're the only thing that keeps me grounded and sane."

"Jesse-"

"When your arms wrapped around me when the fever took, thought I was gone for good, but you brought me back. You are the reason I'm sitting here today. So, thank you."

By the time he was done talking, you were a bawling mess, the images of Jesse laying helpless, crying out in pain in your arms were tearing a hole in your chest that you had tried so hard to mend these past few months. Jesse cupped your smaller hands in his, brought them up to his lips kissing each knuckle, lingering on each one before moving on to the next one. It was an act so small and simple, yet so intimate, it sent tingles down your spine.

It was those little acts of love that made you fall deeper for him.

"So," you cleared your throat, your hands remained enclosed in his, enjoying his warmth. "Where to next?" you asked, as you looked out of the window taking in the view of Aspen mountain. Although, there was no snow in Aspen at that moment, the mountain was still black and white, the trees peaking through the snowy slopes.

"Depends on when we wanna settle down." Jesse said with a genuine smile that reached his eyes this time.

"Settle down?" you repeated with a giggle, heat rushing up to the apples of your cheeks. That idea, although something you had dreamt of often, still seemed so foreign to you. You, settling down with Jesse. Ex stripper and ex meth manufacturer getting a chance at the apple pie life, living in a white picket fence house, two kids and a white Labrador. "That sounds so domestic." you commented.

"Yeah, why not?" his deep voice trailed off. "It's till death do us part."

"That's for married couples. We're not married." you shook your head at him and you brought your mug up to your face, in a failed attempt to hide your reddening face from him.

"Some day." his gaze was intense and serious, none of his usual mischievous and flirty grins in sight. He meant every word he said. You almost choked on your coffee, and chose to remain silent instead.

"I was thinking Alaska." Jesse broke the silence and leaned back into his chair, lips pursed deep in thought.

"Way too much cold. How 'bout," you paused and tapped your chin as if in deep thought. "Ohio!"

"There's nothing in Ohio." Jesse looked at you, almost disgusted at your suggestion.

You bit back a laugh while he watched in disbelief. "Okay, fine. What do you like?"

"I want there to be trees. Like, live in the woods, that would be even better. Oh, and maybe next to a lake? Some extra space, so I could do some wood work." he mused, with a distant smile.

"Wood work?"

"Yeah, like, maybe built a chair or something." he almost looked embarrassed. "Do you remember when I had told you about that box I had made in high school?"

"Yeah, the one you exchanged for weed." you raised a teasing eyebrow.

"Yeah, that one. I was thinking maybe I, like, made a business out of it." he shrugged with a smile and leaned in closer to you. "I'm gonna build our furniture, too."

"Oh, so we'll be living together?" the butterflies in your stomach were threatening to fly out of your mouth, but you tried to keep your cool, as you leaned in even closer, only a couple of inches away from his face. His warm breath was tickling the tip of your nose.

"Oh, yeah." his voice was barely above a whisper. "And we'll go to bed every night and cuddle... and stuff." he added in a low and suggestive tone. Now, his nose was brushing against yours and the only thing that was left for him to do was pull you in a much awaited searing kiss. Instead, he moved his head to the side and kissed you just on the corner of your mouth, to which you embarrassingly whimpered.

Jesse just leaned back into his chair and continued on sipping on his coffee leisurely, as if he he hadn't basically admitted that he dreamt of marrying you some day.

"What about upstate New York?"

──────

"So, what's your new name again?" you asked Jesse after a boring game of "I Spy" as you continued your journey up northeast.

"James Driscoll." It sounded so foreign coming out of his mouth, but it was something he had to get used to for the rest of is life, if he wanted to do this second chance thing the right way.

"Can I still call you Jesse? I'll pretend it's your middle name." you giggled.

"Why the fuck would I go by my middle name?" he shot you sideways glance, before focusing back up on the road ahead.

He was met with a shrug for an answer. Lots of people liked their middle names more. However, Jesse's case was different, as many little ties he had to his past life, the better. That, in turn meant that you had changed your name too, for good measure. Just in case someone ever tried tracing back to Jesse through you.

The vacuum guy had made an exception for you in that you were allowed to contact your aunt freely. Even if he wasn't too happy about it. It had been about ten days since you had hit the road and you gave her check ins every two days via payphone. I should call her tomorrow, first thing.

Boredom was hitting you like a ton of bricks, you started making fart noises with your mouth. Watching blurry trees though the passenger window could only be entertaining for a little while. With a sigh, you reached over and turned on the radio, the soft melody of And I Love Her by The Beatles filled in the silence.

Jesse hummed softly, a gentle smile dancing on his lips. He reached over the console and took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers with yours, his thumb softly caressing yours, placing soft kisses in the back of your hand. Averting his gaze momentarily from the road, his eyes searched for yours, and although he didn't speak, in his way he told you - well, showed you - that he did in fact love you. It just came easier to show it, rather than have the words come out.

He held your hand until you found your hotel for the night.

──────

A faint jingle was heard on the background, indicating a new customer had just come in the bar. That night the shift was moving kinda slow, it was a Wednesday night, and it was just you and Natalie, the bartender, and all four tables at that time had been tended to. On top of that, it was an hour till closing time, and all you wanted to do was teleport to your bed, in your comfy pajamas - that in actuality were Jesse's old clothes - and preferably snuggled up against him.

"Oh, new hottie alert." she purred, as she basically eye fucked whoever came in behind you. "Don't look, he's coming this way." she added hurriedly just right when you were about to turn around and take a look.

"Jeez, okay." you threw your arms up in fake defeat.

"Hello handsome. What can I get for you tonight?" Natalie greeted him as he moved to sit on the stool next to you.

"Whiskey, neat." An all too familiar gravelly voice spoke up beside you.

"Sure, thing." Natalie replied, pulling out a glass in front of Jesse and poured from the most expensive bottle that was reserved for what Natalie deemed the hot ones.

Although you knew Natalie's subtle advancements would practically go unnoticed by Jesse, you couldn't help the tiny speck of jealousy that crept its way into your chest.

He mumbled a soft 'thank you' and took a sip. Jesse let out an appreciative sound, eyebrows shooting up on his forehead in faint surprise.

"Yeah, it's one of the expensive ones." you spoke up from next to him. "That means she thinks you're hot." you whispered with a giggle.

"Oh, well. Remind me to leave a good tip." Jesse's lips curled around the rim of the glass, and he took another sip.

Although you would have loved to sit there and chat with Jesse, your shift was sadly not over yet and you had to do your job. You sauntered off, deliberately swaying your hips from side to side, knowing Jesse's eyes would be transfixed on your hips.

"She sure knows how to get your attention, doesn't she?" Natalie came up next to him, from her side of the bar, observing the way he was drinking you in with his eyes.

Jesse agreed absent-mindedly, his mind lost in old memories of you, the way your hips swayed the same way up on that stage, as you would walk up to the pole and spin sensually. Those tiny bikinis you'd wear during your routines, would leave nothing to his imagination. Or, when you had given him his first private lap dance, when you had stripped completely naked in front of him. The strain in his pants felt the exact same as it did right then at the strip club. Shaking his head, he averted his gaze and tried thinking of something else.

Maybe about how it had been about nine months since the two of you had moved to Amherst, and although you literally acted like a couple, he still didn't have the balls to actually kiss you. Sure, he'd kiss you all over your face, he would always pull you in his chest every morning and leave searing kisses on your shoulders, while on your daily morning cuddle session. But kissing you on the lips, to him felt like entering dangerous territory, it felt like trespassing. Hell, he even called you 'babe'.

But his previous dating history, Jesse had grown scared.

Besides, life was going well as it was.

You were now on your first year of nursing at UMass, you were working as a waitress at a small bar, he had gotten a job at Home Depot and kept himself busy with side projects - he had transformed your garage into a wood working studio.

Life was good. It was just that fear kept him from making it even better.

The bar grew more quiet as people started leaving. When the last group of people bid their goodbyes, Jesse downed the last sip of his drink and slapped a $20 on the bar. With two swift steps, he came up behind you and snaked his arm around your waist as you were cleaning up your last table.

"I'll be outside." he mumbled, his voice deep and low. You shivered ever so slightly when you felt his lips brush against your ear lobe, his scruffy beard tickling your skin, and just like that in a moment he was gone out the door.

"You have some explaining to do about you and that hottie." Natalie teased, with a hand on her hip as she threw a towel over her shoulder.

"Tomorrow." you waved her off.

"Tomorrow's your day off." she pointed out.

"Exactly!" you giggled and stuck your tongue out at her and resumed at cleaning up as fast as possible. You didn't want Jesse to wait out too long in the cold. Although it was November, winter had come early and you had the first snowfall two days ago.

You let out a loud sigh and you untied your apron, and folded it before throwing it in your backpack. Your arms shook as you reached for your thick woolen cardigan and threw it over your Henley shirt. Of course, you couldn't forget about your thick parka jacket, then your beanie, scarf and gloves.

You weren't used to this much cold.

Once outside, you bid Natalie goodbye and parted ways, you walking over to were Jesse was leaned against the wall, having a smoke.

"There's my little onion." Jesse teased you about your layers of clothing. Laughing, he grabbed the ends of your scarf and pulled in to him, and without a second thought brought you in for a kiss.

To your dismay, it didn't last long. Both of you pulled back, shocked at what had just happened. You simply stared at Jesse, at how he was looking at you with confusion. Then fear. Then guilt.

"I'm so-"

"Do it again." you cut him off before he could apologize.

"What?" his hot breath was fanning against your nose as you looked him in his eyes, then down at his lips.

"Kiss me, Jesse." you whispered softly. And so he did. You didn't mind that it was close to freezing out, Jesse's kiss was enough to light a fire within you, as his lips moved languidly against yours.

And just like that, life became even better.

──────

Life really did move along great as the years went by. Even after you had gotten your nursing degree, you and Jesse had decided that had grown to love Amherst, so you both decided to stay permanently.

Jesse had left Home Depot, he now owned a small business, building his own original pieces and restoring antique pieces on the side.

You had even gotten a dog together. You and Jesse had found her while trekking Mount Holyoke, and you both had instantly fallen in love with her. A Beagle, she was barely 1 year old at that time. You both decided to name her Echo, because of the way her little puppy cries echoed before you had found her.

Your relationship was going steady, your love for one another growing with each passing day, and you really didn't think you could be any happier.

Up until you saw those two blue lines appear on the pregnancy test. You hid in the bathroom at work, during your lunch break and took the test. At first, you wanted to do it at home but you grew more and more impatient with each passing second. So, now here you were; positive pregnancy test in your hand. It was real. It was really happening. When realization hit you, you let out a squeal, there was no doubt Jesse would be just as happy.

And he truly was. And although he was sobbing when you broke the news to him, you knew it was tears of happiness. You cried with him as he held you, and you cried even harder when he got down on his knees and placed soft kisses on your stomach.

The pregnancy progressed as usual, with a bit of morning sickness - which in reality was more like, all day sickness. By now, you were nine weeks along.

It was Saturday, and both you and Jesse were home for the weekend. A rare occurrence, mostly because of your line of work and irregular schedules. Jesse rolled over with a lazy smile on his face, half awake, to pull you against him like he usually loved to do. But you were no where to be found, maybe you were preparing breakfast, he thought, and got up to go to the bathroom.

He tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, as he groggily made his way to the bathroom. He went to open the door, only to find it was locked. That was odd, you never locked it. Jesse's heart fell at the sound of your muffled groans and crying.

"Open up." his voice was gruff from the lack of use, he had just woken up after all. "Babe, please open up." he pleaded, as he kept on knocking.

"Go away!" you yelled through the door and cried harder.

"Let me in, you're scaring me." Jesse's voice trembled, as panic started to settle in a burning fire inside his chest.

You kept denying and he kept begging, until a deafening silence fell from your side of the door. Jesse defeatedly called out your name softly once more, and that's when he heard the soft click of the door unlocking. He pushed it open gently and found you curled up on the bathroom floor, weeping silently.

"Love, tell me." Jesse was almost certain he knew what had happened. Tears silently rolled down his cheeks, his lips pursed as he tried to make no sound.

"I lost it." And the moment those words slipped past your lips, a blood curdling scream echoed through the bathroom as you cried even harder. In seconds, Jesse was on the floor with you in his arms. And you cried, and you screamed until your voice gave out. "There was so much blood." you whispered.

Jesse cried silently, cradling your head, and placing soft, comforting kisses on your head.

"I know you probably don't wanna hear this, but" he paused. "Whenever you're ready, we'll try again. And we shall overcome, as we've done before." he reassured you.

For weeks on end, the both of you were nothing but just empty shells of yourselves. Mostly you. The first week you had stayed at home, wandering around the house like a ghost. One month after the miscarriage, you had smiled genuinely again, you were finding your old self again.

You both giggled as you stumbled in, and you turned around to hush him, before bursting into a fit of laughter again. Jesse hummed against your neck, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses all the way down to your collarbone.

"Mhm, you smell so good." he slurred, moving to grope your ass through the loose fabric of your sundress.

It was only 3 P.M on a Sunday, and both of you were drunk of your asses after you had taken a curious Jesse for brunch and bottomless mimosas. He was always so confused as to how you managed to come home tipsy after brunch with the girls, and now he knew the why very well.

"You're sooo hot." you winked at him, or at least you tried to. "And I want you..." you grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the bedroom. Jesse just hummed appreciatively, and let you take the upper hand. You threw him on the bed and went on to straddle him and after that, everything was way too hazy to remember properly.

But you definitely had an idea of what happened, as you stared down at yet another positive pregnancy test. And although the months leading up to the birth of your daughter were rather difficult, it all got washed away the moment she locked eyes with you and Jesse. You guys shared teary smiles, life was well again.

The way it was supposed to be.

[superblysubpar]

NINE PEOPLE I WANT TO GET TO KNOW BETTER

thank you so much for the tag @crappymixtape 💛

last song: Smoke by Caroline Polacheck

favorite color: I love yellow, always, but I'm really on a white/cream/neutrals sort of kick lately

currently watching: I'm late to the game, but just finished season 2 of Bridgerton, watching True Detective & Abbott Elementary with my guy, and I've also been rewatching America's Next Top Model 😅 Also, I'm always, and I do mean always, watching Friends and Stranger Things

last movie: literally just finished Dune Part 2 like a half hour ago

currently reading: I just finished Funny Story by Emily Henry (cannot recommend her and her stories enough), and about to start The Guest List by Lucy Foley & The Book Proposal by KJ Micciche

sweet/spicy/savory: I feel like it truly depends on my mood and like, if it's a meal or not, but I'll go with snacks for each:

Sweet, I love a simple chocolate chip cookie or ice cream (don't get me started on flavors though, we'll be here all night...) spicy would have to be my favorite salt and vinegar chips with serrano pepper, and savory would be hummus and cucs/meat and cheese charcuterie sorts of things for sure.

relationship: Married for almost 4 years, but we've been together for 12!

current obsession: oh my god this is so broad, I have obsessions in all areas of my life...ummmmm I've been making these salad jars for lunch and I really love them haha. Love dumping them in a big glass bowl and pretending I'm super bougie. Also eating it with another current obsession: sanpellegrino melograno & arancina

last thing I googled: Jonathan Bailey Wicked (listen...)

currently working on:

Outside of tumblr - rewrites to my We'll Call It Love screenplay as well as starting work on my second movie - To Whom It May Concern

Inside of tumblr, the wips are too high to count, but my main joys right now are:

- Baby, I Can't Fight This Feeling (enemies to lovers coworkers steve series)

- one of my "she's seen all the classics" stories that I'm AMPED to share soon

-a secret untitled series

- You Got That Somethin' (90s Robin oneshot)

- Sweet Talk (personal trainer Steve Part 2)

no pressure tags: @rebelfell @palmtreesx3 @curiositydooropened @jo-harrington @lonelysatellites @abibliophobiaa @inklessletter @rosewaterandivy @boyfriendstevie - and of course anyone who'd like to join in!

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

I Need To Let You Go

Sad Miguel Hours

CW: infant loss, grief, death, everything is very sad because cherry is sad

"Oh, mija, if only you had seen me and your uncle back in the day," Miguel chuckles, hugging Gabriella close to his chest as he lays back in the stiff chair. She's only half a year hold and he pushes whatever hair she has back, watching as it falls flat against her head. He kisses her forehead, nuzzling his cheek into her head. "Yeah, we weren't the best behaved as teens. Stealing cigarettes or managing to get someone to buy us some beer."

Miguel rolls his eyes at the memory, slightly cringing. He rubs circles into Gabriella's back, sighing softly. "Can you believe I'm a hero now, mija? Saving the innocent and fighting bad guys. If fifteen year old me can see me now, he'll laugh."

"Did I ever tell you about the time I got chased by a horse? Haha, back then it was terrifying, but we can laugh about it now, mamas."

"I'm thinking of getting a little dog. What do you think, mija?"

"I work with so many idiots, mija, but they're all good people. I just wish things went the way I wanted, you know?"

"Lego Peter is one of my best. He's strong, agile, smart, and catches anomalies as if it were a hobby of his. So glad I recruited him."

Miguel continues talking to Gabriella about many things. He laughs at fond memories and cringes whenever he speaks about when he was younger. He wishes he can go back in time and smack himself in the back of his head.

He hugs his baby close, tears trickling down his heated cheeks. A heavy weight presses itself against his soul, making it hard to breathe. He nuzzles his cheek against her head slowly, his eyes squeezed shut. He chokes as he speaks.

"Mjia...can you hear me?"

Gabriella's heart is beating due to the life support, but there's no activity in her brain. She was pronounced brain dead several hours ago. Miguel nodded his head painfully slow, his eyes glazed over in denial. He scooped his little girl up into his strong arms, sat back in a chair and laid her against his chest, then began talking about everything and anything.

"Please, mija," Miguel pleads with his baby. He wraps her little fingers around his large finger and winces when her tiny hand slips and falls against his chest. He grinds his teeth together and slides his finger beneath her baby hand, waiting for it to squeeze it with her baby strength. "Please, mija, show me that you can hear me. L-Let's prove these doctors wrong, okay? Let's show them you're okay."

Gabriella's body is connected to multiple cords. The heart monitor beeps, showing signs of her being alive, but let's be honest.

She's dead.

Miguel places multiple kisses into her head, choking on a sob. "Mija, don't scare daddy. This isn't funny. Please."

He rubs her back, waiting for her to move or make one of her baby noises. Waits for her to life her head and blink up at him with twinkling brown eyes, flashing him a gummy smile, chubby cheeks pinched. He waits for his baby to wake up, because there's no way she's dead. No. He refuses to acknowledge it.

Miguel carried her for nine months. He went through agonizing hours of labor. He spent many sleepless nights tending to her.

Like come on, she just started crawling.

She hasn't even said her first words yet.

Miguel trembles, hugging her close, slowly rocking back and forth, the realization that his little girl might actually be dead hitting him like a truck.

"Oh...Oh god," he chokes, tears streaming down his cheeks. "No, no! Please, Gabi, please wake up. Please, for daddy. Please, don't go. Don't go. Dontgodontgodontgodontgo-" his words end up in a high pitched squeal and he sobs, stomping his feet.

Miguel kisses her all over her face. He stands up and paces around the room, bouncing her lightly like he did whenever she cried or when he was trying to get her to sleep.

This isn't fair.

It's not fucking fair.

Miguel always dreamed of being a father, and Gabriella was the little angel given to him. He adored her. Bought her cute dresses and bows. Tickled her chubby belly, laughing in pure joy at her squeals. He allowed her to sleep in bed with him, but had no pillows and blankets in fear of her suffocating.

He took her for walks through the park. Attended reading sessions at a nearby library. Spending sleepless nights to feed her, change her, and try to get her back to sleep, but once she had that big smile on her face and sparkling eyes, he knew that she wasn't going to bed anytime soon and he wasn't either. During those moments, he was frustrated and angry. He was so tired. The apartment was a mess and he hardly had time for himself.

He wants that back.

He wants those moments of him not sleeping and attending to his baby. Wants to walk back through the door of his apartment with Gabriella in her car seat and see the messy apartment. He wants to spend one more day with her.

If he had known that this was going to happen, he would've taken those sleepless nights, the messy apartment, the never ending laundry, her puking on him, her kicking his face when he placed socks on her little feet, and cherished them.

Miguel sits back down, staring at the ground. "I need to let you go, do I?" He waits a bit to see if she'll make a noise or move, just because he doesn't want this to be true. But it is, and he can't keep her on the line forever. Miguel kisses her head, body trembling violently. "Daddy loves you so, so much, mija. In these short few months, you made me the world's happiest man. I loved being your dad, Gabi."

He finally looks into her face, crying. "I hope you're not in pain. I hope wherever you are, you're happy. I'll see you one day, mija. I love you."

Thirty minutes later, the plug was pulled, and Miguel lost a part of himself that night.

Never again, will he be the same.

Never.

[aspiringwriter1111]

Hallmark PSA

I know since it's coming on the holiday season, I'm going to start seeing a lot of Hallmark slander.

But here's a little known fact.

Hallmark is actually really really good.

WAIT WAIT DON'T LEAVE-

Let me explain!

The movies people usually associate Hallmark with are the "old" ones (2020 and back). I bet after seeing how cliche and unhealthy they were, you didn't see a reason to watch them again after that, am I right??

But you knew them well enough to know they weren't worth your time and sanity.

Girl in a high stress job goes to small town, learns the meaning of Christmas, and then cheats on her also stressed out boyfriend back in the city with a hot cocoa making stubbly kind of rude lumberjack man then quits her job and moves to Vermont or something.

Yeah, they don't do those anymore.

At all.

I'm serious.

A part of it is that there was a purge. A year or two ago, there was a new Christmas movie company in town. All the actors that didn't like the forward direction Hallmark wanted to go in, left and joined GAC.

(Great American Family, or as I like to call it GACK. The movies are exclusively awful old Hallmark style, but Republican, badly decorated, very white, and also much worse.)

GAC took all the problems away from Hallmark, and made movies out of them. Hallmark, now cleansed, is pumping out cinematic greats that I WILL be rewatching every Christmas.

The whole of Hallmark was Recast, save for the best of the best fan favorites (Like Lacey Chaubert-)

They have plus sized actors now and people of color, cast as main characters on a regular basis.

Half of the movies aren't even romance centric anymore, instead focused on life, and moving forward, but when they are, they're really well done, and actually healthy.

If you know me (which you don't), then you'll know I hate unhealthy relationships. Especially when they're treated like they're okay. I will pick apart ANYTHING over toxicity in a relationship, wherever that might come from.

I used to hate Hallmark movies, because they were predictable, unrealistic, flawed, and toxic.

But now the characters talk with each other, and they don't get in the others space without permission. If there's an accident and it does happen, it's not used as a plot device to move the relationship along. It's not treated in a "OMG hot guy is literally right in my face!!! I've only known him two minutes and I hate him, I'm in love!!"

It's more of an, "OMG I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that at all, im so sorry, I'm so sorry- *Immediately backs away*"

I can't even begin to explain how much better they are now.

To further prove my point, here are some gifs of Three Wise Men and a Baby, one of my favorite Christmas movies ever:

Just listen to this one.

It's about three brothers, one of which is a firefighter (this is important). A baby gets dropped off at the fire station, with a note. The firefighters name is on it, asking him to look after the baby until Christmas.

This is not his baby.

This IS a joke throughout the entire film.

They have no idea who dropped him off.

So they end up taking care of him for a week, and seriously bonding with him. The make his first Christmas ornament with clay, they do a holiday photo dressed to the nines.

They talk about how hard it is to actually take care of a baby, and how hard it must have been for their mom doing it alone.

Talking about how their own dad left, and finally processing that trauma together.

Their mom confesses that if she didn't have support, she may have done what the babies mother did. How she must be going through such a rough patch, and building empathy for her.

All three of the brothers go on complete cathartic emotional journeys about it, and all the other issues in their life.

I can't do it justice.

It's called Three Wise Men and A Baby. I'm begging you please go watch it, you will NOT regret it.

I CRIED SO MANY TIMES YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

I'm tearing up now just thinking about it oh my gOD-

The ending just sent it home for me, so I won't spoil anything.

Its amazing. I can't explain the whole thing, I seriously beg you please go watch it.

And, if you're more into comedy, I present to you Haul out The Holly:

A Christmas comedy starring your very own Gretchen Weiners!! Abso-fucking-lutley HILARIOUS.

It's about a woman, just broken up with her boyfriend, and coaxed into going home for the holidays. Here's where it gets interesting.

Her parents are the head of the Christmas neighborhood watch, something that has plagued her since childhood. Her childhood friend has now taken over the position, as her parent ditch her for retirement on a beach someplace, and she's left stuck, having to decorate against her will.

She wants a nap. The neighbors want her to carve ice sculptures. And her nutcracker apparently isn't up to code.

Includes: Girlboss and male wife power duo (madly in love), insane chainsaw man with way too much time on his hands, the ML an anxious wreck, and many, many, MANY MORE.

Another recent movie was built around a woman who is an astronaut (She's mixed) who was about to finally go to space (The goal shes been working on her entire life) She got into a car accident and her eyesight was impaired. She's currently grieving the loss of her dream (like, actually grieving, she took three months off-).

Her company asks her if she wants to do an exhibit in the planetarium for Christmas, that she doesn't have to, but she can if she wants to take her minds off of things. She says yes, and ends up working with the planetarium director on an exhibit about the sun and it's connection to Christmas through how people used to celebrate with the sun (I don't remember exactly, but it was explained thoroughly, and i think pagan???)

She and him don't constantly argue, or be angry at each other. They cooperate. They show genuine interest in each other. It's actually adorable, and it's also not just about them.

She meets his daughter, who is a wheelchair user. She asks why the Female lead isn't in space if she's an astronaut, and the FL tell her it's because of her eyes. The daughter tells her it's okay, because she'll never be able to go to space either, even if she wants to, but she can still enjoy it from Earth.

I'm not even doing it justice.

By the end of the movie, the FLs eye problem doesn't heal. Nothing is miraculously solved. But the ML and the FL are now dating (After the best, slow paced, healthy, communicative, collaborative bonding freaking ever-) ALL OF THE CHARACTERS HAVE FULL BLOWN EMOTIONAL JOURNEYS THAT ACTUALLY MATTER.

SHE GRIEVES.

HER BROTHER FINALLY FIGURES OUT ITS OKAY FOR HIM TO DO WHAT HE LOVES, AND THAT HE'S NOT A FAILURE FOR IT.

THE ML LET'S GO OF THINKING HES A BAD PARENT.

AND MORE.

There are soft bits, nothing is cliche, nothing is icky or gross.

It's healthy, it's cute, it's emotionally driven, I'm actually learning about things I didn't know before, and amazing.

And all the new ones are either like this or better than this. I could name over ten, but I can't even explain how good they are.

Some of the are still a little dark ages, but it's only every one out of six or seven.

Hallmark movies from 2022 and onwards are 5 star television, and you can't convince me otherwise.

[arc-misadventures]

Rebirth AU: couldn't Jaune or Jeanne look up who is running Beacon if Ozpin then shadow war if it's human Salem then all is good

Shall we Dance to Our Own Rhythm~?

Arc Twins Age: Nine

Jaune: Okay, okay… Let’s see who it is…

Jeanne: What are you looking up?

Jaune: Whoever the Head of Beacon is.

Jeanne: Why!

Jaune: To determine how fucked we are.

Jeanne: What?!

Jaune: Hmm? Oh that’s right, you weren’t trapped in hell like I was.

Jeanne: W-What are you talking about?

Jaune: Okay, in your life you had a, Headmistress Selma, while I had a, Headmaster Ozpin; Did you ever wonder why it was like that?

Jeanne: Uhhh… Nooo…?

Jaune: Well, in my world, Selma, who’s real name is, Salem, is an immortal witch who threw herself into a pool of Grimm, became evil, and wanted to destroy the world. Meanwhile you still have an immortal witch, only she wasn’t evil.

Jeanne: …

Jeanne: What on, Remnant are you talking about?!

Jaune: Haa… Have you ever heard of the story of, ‘The Girl in the High Tower?’

Jeanne: Of course I have, Mom told us that story together when we were kids dozens of times, remember?

Jaune: I have to ask because that story is true.

Jeanne: T-True?! The story is true?!

Jaune: Yes, and Salem was the girl in the high tower.

Jeanne: Seriously?!

Jaune: You want to hear the story?

Jeanne: Yeah!

Jaune: Okay, so… thousands of years ago. Salem was locked away in a tower by her father, there she lay a prisoner for years, until one day a wandering wizard, saw the girl, and decided to free her from her prison. And, that wizard was named, Ozma.

Jeanne: Ozma? Is that, Ozpin?

Jaune: Yes; Also no questions until the end of the story!

Jeanne: Sorry.

Jaune: As the two escaped it could have gone the way of the books, ‘And, they lived happily ever after.’ All that trite. However, reality is never as it is in the books. Ozma fell ill, and there was nothing anyone could do to save him, so the man who saved, Salem, the man she loved unlike any other, died.

Jeanne: Oh… That is a really sad story…

Jaune: But, it is not over yet!

Jeanne: It’s not?!

Jaune: No. Salem was unwilling, no, incapable of letting the love her life just fade away, so she went to the only two beings capable of saving her husband; The Gods of Light, and Darkness.

Jeanne: Wait?! There are gods?! Why haven’t I heard of any of this?!

Jaune: Brother Gods; Real uptight pricks the lot of ‘em! Now, stop interrupting!

Jeanne: Sorry…

Jaune: So, she went to the, God of Light, and pleaded with it to bring back the lover of her life. The God of Light said no, why be you ask? Because bringing him back would bring unbalance to the world. So, after the, God of Light spurred, Salem’s request she went deep into the Grimm Lands, and went to the, God of Darkness, and asked it to bring, Ozma back. And, it did, Ozma was back in an instant, but it only took an instant the, God of Light to show up, and send him back to the afterlife. Then they played ping pong with, Ozma’s life, killing him, and bringing him back, until, Salem had enough. They stopped, but then the, God of Light showed that he was a real motherfucker…

Jeanne: What did it do?

Jaune: It punished, Salem because of her selfish request. So, to teach her the value of life, it made her immortal.

Jeanne: Immortal…? It made her immortal as a punishment?

Jaune: Yes; Immortal. Ha! Bringing one life back would bring unbalance to the world, but bringing an immortal into the world, that doesn’t make things unbalanced!?

Jeanne: It would be like telling a cripple to outrun a huntsman. Hell, even a child can outrun a cripple!

Jaune: Precisely. So, after years of suffering from her immortality, Salem tricked the various rulers of the world to attack the, Gods. They thought if they did that they would be able to gain immortality too. The Gods were enraged by this, and took away people’s ability to use magic…

Jeanne: We can use magic?!

Jaune: Could! Could use magic! Pay attention!

Jeanne: Sorry.

Jaune: So, after that, the God of Darkness had a little hissy fit, and while he, and his brother left the world, and… He… He blew the moon…

Jeanne: Wait?! That’s why the moon is broken?!

Jaune: Yeah, talk about a bunch of sore losers… Anyway, after a series of meteorites hit the planet it became a winter apocalypse. After a time, the world healed, Dust, and Faunas showed up. Don’t ask, I have no idea how, or why they showed up. Anyway, Salem had enough, and threw herself into a pool of Grimm, and then she came out as some sort of Grimm monster.

Jeanne: So that’s how, Salem was born?

Jaune: No, what really made, Salem the monster she sadly became happened years after that…

Jeanne: What happened…?

Jaune: The God of Light brought, Ozma back.

Jeanne: WHAT?! Why would they bring him back?!

Jaune: It wanted to fuck over the world some more?Who the hell knows, or care. All that matter is that, The God of Light likes to fuck people ovet, and Ozma was back, sorta…

Jeanne: What do you mean by sorta?

Jaune: Well, the body of, Ozma didn’t come back, but his mind did. You see, Ozma has the ability that upon his death his mind immediately gets transferred to a new body. New face, new, Ozma.

Jeanne: Wait, what happened to the mind of the original host? Did it cease to exist after, Ozma came, or?

Jaune: While he can be fought, Ozma tended to take over his host body… To the point where the hosts original mind might as well be as good as dead.

Jeanne: Oh… No wonder you called him a parasite…

Jaune: I don’t see, Ozpin in a positive light after everything I learned about that SOB. Anyway, Ozma heard of a witch in the woods, he went, and found Salem, the married, had a family, and then things went to hell… Haa… You see, Ozma, and Salem still had magic, and they used this magic to put, and end to the fighting around them. Salem then reached a point where she thought they should rule over everyone, powers unparalleled tend to give ones delusions of grandeur. They fought about this. Then in the dead of night, Ozma tried to run with their daughters, and got them killed in the ensuing battle they had… And, the world was forever plunged into a unending shadow war because of them…

Jeanne: Oh… Oh gods…

Jaune: Oh gods indeed…It was much better in your world, with Selma…

Jeanne: Why was that?

Jaune: Well, Salem, never fell into the pit of Grimm batter, so she was never that, Grimm Hybrid thingy she became. Ozma did come back, only this time he grew envious of, Salem’s immortality. And, he started do experiments on how he could gain his own version of immortality… The victims of his experiments turned out to be… his very own children…

Jeanne: Oh gods!

Jaune: Yeah… Worst of all, his experiments worked!Salem was forced to kill all of her children in order to stop him. But, he could still transfer his mind to a new host. It took centuries but, Salem managed to track him down, and lock him away with the power of the, Relic of Creation. She locked him in a vault that only she can open, and that only she knows where to find.

Jeanne: Wow… That’s some heavy stuff, but, uhh… One question?

Jaune: Yeah?

Jeanne: What’s the, Relic of Creation?

Jaune: Haaa… Okay, when, Ozma came back he came back with four, Relics given to him by the, God of Light. The Staff of Creation, the Lamp of Knowledge, Crown of Choice, and the Sword of Destruction. Pretty self evident names there on what they do. But, they each have rules on how they work. At least that what the spirit things say.

Jeanne: Spirits? These things have minds of their own?

Jaune: Yeah, I only knew the name of one of them by the time I died. The Relic of Knowledge, her name was, Jinn.

Jeanne: Really, what did she look like.

Jaune: Don’t know, I never saw her. Anyway the relics aren’t really that good; The Relic of Knowledge only let’s you ask three questions ever hundred years, and every time to use the, Relic of Creation is destroys whatever was made before… it…

Jeanne: What is it? You’ve got that, “I have a brilliant idea,” look on your face!

Jaune: There’s a look?

Jeanne: Yes, its quite rugged, and dashing.

Jaune: …

Jaune: Okay…?

Jaune: So I haven’t been able to see if, Salem, or Ozpin were the Headmaster, Headmistress because of the Beacon Academy website being shit. However, all I need is a photo of Atlas to find out which one we will be dealing with.

Jeanne: Atlas, how would you find who’s here based on a photo of, Atlas?

Jaune: Because, in my world, Atlas was a floating island because of the powers of the, Relic of Creation making it so. But, if, Salem used the, Staff to imprison, Ozpin.

Jeanne: Then there would be no floating island~!

Jaune: Bingo~! And, would you look at that~!

Jeanne: Atlas isn’t a floating island! It’s just the upper city, and Mantle is the lower city?!

Jaune: Whoo, Selma is the Headmaster of, Beacon Academy!

Acheius: What are two doing?

Jeanne: Oh… Just learning who the Headmistress of, Beacon Academy.

Acheius: Headmistress Selma? Why did you want to know that?

Jaune: Yes!

Jeanne: Well, we need to learn who’s in charge of the school when we train to be, Hunters!

Acheius: You want to be a, Huntress, Jeanne?

Jeanne: Yeah! I-Is there a problem with that, Dad?

Acheius: Hmm… We’ll need to discuss that with your mother, okay dear?

Jeanne: Okay, Dad.

Jaune: Can I join that conversation too, Dad?

Acheius: And, why would you want to do that?

Jaune: Because I want to be a, Huntsman.

Acheius: You?! A, Huntsman?! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!

Jaune…

Jeanne: Hh oh…

Acheius: Hahahaha hooo… Oh that’s funny~!

Jaune: Is that a no?

Acheius: Yes.

Jaune: May I ask why?

Acheius: Because I said so, end of discussion.

Jaune: …

Jeanne: You saw this coming, didn’t you?

Jaune: Haaa… And, thus my misfortune never ends…

Jeanne: Oh no…

[canirove]

The Princess & the Football Player | Chapter 37

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Masterlist

A few years later…

"Good morning, your Royal Highness."

"Good morning, Declan Rice" I say while stretching.

"After today you'll have to stop calling me that."

"Why? It is your name, isn't it?" 

"It is. But today is my last game as a professional football player. I won't be Declan Rice anymore. Just Declan" he shrugs.

"You will forever be Declan Rice, West Ham player, England's captain, and World Cup winner" I say while hugging him.

"Yeah" he smiles. "I can't believe I managed to do all that. To follow my dream, fight for it, and actually achieve it."

"Your dreams. In plural."

"Uh?"

"You said you always dreamt about marrying Princess Eleanor, and look where she is. Half naked in your bed" I smirk.

"That's actually true" he says, kissing my cheek. "Though I still haven't married her."

"But now you will be able to. If you want to, of course."

"Eleanor, are you asking me to marry you?" Declan chuckles.

"What? No, no. I'm just saying that maybe you don't want to marry me and have to deal with everything that will come with it."

"Like being king consort one day?"

"For example" I say, playing with a loose thread on the duvet.

"Eleanor… Eleanor, look at me" Declan says, lifting my chin. "I love you. All of you. Titles and everything. If I didn't… If I wasn't sure of what I felt for you and that you are the one, I wouldn't be here, right now, with you. I would have run away a long time ago."

"You actually ran away once. You can do it again."

"Eleanor…" he sighs.

"I'm sorry. But now that you won't be a professional footballer anymore there won't be anything stopping us from taking the next step. And it is a huge one." 

"I know."

"People will constantly talk about it, ask us when we are going to do it, ask us to do it."

"And if we cared about what others say, we wouldn't be together" he chuckles.

"I guess. But…"

"I'm ready, Eleanor" Declan says while caressing my cheek. "I'm ready for our future together and what it entails. You supported me and my dream all these years, and now it is my turn to support you."

"Are you sure?" 

"100%."

"I love you, Declan Rice."

"And I love you, your Royal Highness."

"Can you show me how much, tho?" I say, stopping him when he is about to kiss me.

"What?" 

"I mean, I know you have a game later today and all that, but it is your last and you probably won't be playing the whole thing, you won't be needing the same amount of energy as before. And if you play badly, you'll have an excuse."

"Oh… I see" he smirks. 

"What do you say, then? Can you show me how much you love me or since you are retiring you are too old for these things?" I ask with a mischievous smile.

"Old? Old?" he says while moving to be on top of me, making me giggle. "You'll see what this old man can do."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Mason, please be careful! He's your son!" Roberta says. 

"I know what I'm doing! " he replies.

"Nine months after the last time you said that Romeo was born."

"Burn!" Declan laughs.

"Meh meh meh" Mason replies, rolling his eyes.

We are the only ones left on the pitch of the London Stadium, Declan and Mason playing football with Romeo, his and Roberta's son.

"Every time they play football he does those tackles and I fear he's gonna hit him. He's just a kid, not one of his rivals! And… Eleanor, are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, yeah" I say.

"Oh my God, Eleanor. Why are you crying again?" Roberta laughs.

"I'm sorry" I chuckle, wiping away a tear. "I thought that after the game and all the tributes I had no tears left behind, but seeing him play with Romeo is so cute... He's gonna be an amazing dad."

"Wait, are you...?"

"What? No, no. I'm just thinking about the future. Now that he has retired we can finally think about marrying, starting a family and all that."

"Are you sure you aren't?"

"I'm sure, Roberta. I always take precautions."

"They sometimes fail. That's how Mason's sister got pregnant with her second."

"I'm not pregnant" I say, whispering that last word. We are alone, but you never know who may show up out of nowhere.

"But you've been feeling so... Emotional lately. Anything and everything makes you cry, and you've never been that sensitive."

"My boyfriend just retired from football and we are about to start a new chapter in our lives. Of course I am more sensitive than usual."

"I know, but… When should you be getting your period?"

"I got it last week, so I definitely am not pregnant."

"Oh, shame… I liked the idea of us being pregnant at the same time" Roberta shrugs.

"Wait what?" I say, raising my voice.

"Everything ok over there?" Mason asks.

"Peachy, love" Roberta smiles.

"What did you mean by being pregnant at the same time?" I ask while walking away from the boys.

"I'm feeling the same I felt when I got pregnant with Romeo, and we stopped taking precautions a couple of months ago."

"Oh... My God! Have you taken a test?"

"No, not yet. Will you take it with me? I am so nervous… I shouldn't because I already went through all this, but…"

"Of course I will. I was there for you the first time, and I will be there for you now."

"Thank you, Ellie. You are the best friend ever" Roberta says while hugging me.

"So are you" I reply. "But now you've made me cry again!"

"I am crying too!"

"Friends that cry together stay together" I chuckle.

"They definitely do."

[hintsofhoney]

Suburban Legends

Pairing(s): Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve finally forces himself to confront his feelings at his ten year high school reunion.

Tags: 18+, fluff, pining, kissing, general horniness

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: I have never read a Steddie fic in my life but this came to me when I was listening to Suburban Legends by Taylor Swift the other day and I'm not mad about it. Thank you to my loves @makeadealwithdean and @wayward-dreamer for beta-ing 🤍 Enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3! 

STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Steve stared at the Welcome Back Hawkins High Class of ‘85! banner strung up over the gymnasium entrance, the green and orange stripes on the brick walls even more chipped and faded after ten additional years of wear and tear. He brought the plastic cup in his hand to his lips, recoiling when the taste of champagne flooded his mouth instead of punch. For some reason, he hadn’t thought they would be serving alcohol at this thing, regardless of his graduating class being two years away from 30. Being back in this gym made him feel like he was a teenager again, and he was wondering who spiked the punch bowl. 

He watched the green doors as more of his former classmates filed in, and the DJ started to play Don’t You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds to get the party going. Steve huffed a laugh through his nose and shook his head, thinking back to the last time he’d heard that song. He remembered Eddie Munson reenacting the ending scene of The Breakfast Club on the football field nine years ago, after he finally walked the stage with the class of ‘86 and was handed his diploma. He had gotten some of the Hellfire kids to hack the loudspeakers and blast the song so he could live out his John Bender fantasy. Steve pushed the thought out of his head, just like he had trained himself to do anytime Eddie Munson crept into his mind. It had been nine years since he’d last seen the metalhead, since Steve ran out of the woods behind the football field that summer, nauseous and dizzy and paranoid, hoping no one had been hiding in the bushes to witness what had happened. Which was nothing, really – their lips hadn’t even touched – but it was closer than anything Steve could have handled at the time. He never saw Eddie again; rumor was that he had packed up his bags and went to chase his dreams in LA, and Steve decided to go to IU after all, and that was that. Anything that he and Eddie had was left in 1986. At least, that’s what Steve had kept telling himself.

“Harringtooon!” Tommy Hagan yelled through cupped hands, pulling Steve out of his thoughts. Carol was hanging onto his arm, and Steve tried to hide his surprised expression because that was not the couple that he had thought was going to withstand the test of time. 

“Hey, Tommy! Carol!” Steve replied, pulling Tommy into a “bro hug” and giving Carol a pat on her shoulder. “Jesus, it’s been forever. How are you guys?”

“Good, man. Uhm –” Tommy paused and looked over at Carol, a questioning look on his face, and Carol nodded and smiled, her hand coming to rub over her belly as she smoothed her dress against her skin, revealing a barely-there bump. 

“No way!” Steve exclaimed, his eyes growing wide. “Congratulations, guys!”

Tommy waved him off. “Thanks, man.” He pulled Carol into his side and gave her a quick kiss on her temple. Steve felt like he had stepped into an alternate universe, one where Tommy Hagan wasn’t an insufferable asshole and was actually fit to be a father. But he supposed that was what happened when you left your hometown and didn’t come back for nine years; people change even if everything else stays the same. 

He spent a few minutes catching up with Tommy and Carol, who were “the Hagans” now, his eyes occasionally darting to the door to see if anyone else he cared to see had shown up, but most of his closest friends were a grade, if not grades below him. He found himself wishing that Henderson was here. 

“Oh my God,” Carol suddenly snorted, and Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he followed her gaze. “Is that…?”

Steve gulped. “Munson, yeah.”

Tommy’s question of, “What is he even doing here? He wasn’t in our class, was he?” faded to the background as Steve focused in on his former best-friend-turned-crush-turned-stranger. He looked completely different, but exactly the same. His dark curls were pulled back into a ponytail, and he had black rectangle-framed glasses on. He was wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt rolled halfway up his forearms, a black and red tie around his neck that seemed to be the same pattern as the electric guitar he had in high school. His arm tattoos were on full display, which seemed to have tripled in the last decade. Steve’s eyes traveled back to Eddie’s face, his mouth going dry when he realized he had been caught staring. He quickly turned his attention to the cup in his hand, clearing his throat in front of Tommy and Carol.

“I’m, um –” Steve downed the remainder of his drink, hoping it would give him the courage he needed. “I’m gonna go ask what he’s doing here.”

He approached Eddie cautiously, not knowing how he would be received. He hoped nine years had been long enough to squash any remaining awkward tension, but then again, nine years hadn’t erased the thoughts of Eddie from Steve’s mind. He waited for Eddie to finish a conversation with a woman Steve didn’t recognize, before awkwardly clearing his throat once again, willing for Eddie to hear him over the music.

Eddie turned his head slowly, and then, “Steve Harrington, you son of a bitch.” He had a shit-eating grin on his face and Steve’s nerves dissipated almost instantly. 

“Hey, Eds,” Steve grinned back, and suddenly it felt like no time had passed at all.

Eddie huffed a soft laugh. “Haven’t heard that nickname in a long time.” He stared down at the drink in his cup, swirling it around.

Just like that, Steve’s nerves were back. There’s one thing he had forgotten about Eddie — he could be so damn hard to read. “I – um – sorry.”

“Didn’t say I didn’t like it, Stevie.” 

And now Steve felt like he was going to hurl. No one’s called him Stevie since, well, 1986. He swallowed down some champagne that was threatening to come to the surface along with all the feelings he’d spent a decade ignoring.  

“What – um – what are you doing here?” Steve finally asked. 

Eddie smirked before downing the rest of his drink. “I teach here, believe it or not.”

Steve chuckled. “Right. Or not.” When Eddie’s face remained serious, Steve raised his eyebrows. “You’re kidding. You ?”

“A lot can change in nine years, Harrington.”

“Right — yeah — I mean — I just — they hated you.”

Eddie laughed softly. “That they did. But I was in LA for a few years and it wasn’t for me. Place is a shithole, worse than here, Stevie. Can you believe that? Anyway, uh, well, Wayne wasn’t doing too hot so I moved back to help take care of him and got a job teaching these little shitheads music.”

“And you like it?”

“Love it,” he grinned, and Steve knew he was being genuine. “What about you, Harrington? What have you been up to since…?”

“Right. Uh, well, I went to IU, got a business degree, and now I’m managing a small company in Bloomington. And no, I don’t like it.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “And, uh… wife? Kids?”

Steve snorted. “No.”

“You could always move back to Hawkins, you know.”

“Right. Don’t tempt me, Munson.”

Eddie smiled. “It really is good to see you, Stevie. I’m glad I got guilted into working tonight.” 

Steve blushed and ducked his head. “Yeah, uh, me too. See you around?”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

The reunion seemed to last forever, and if Steve was being honest, he would have left two hours ago if Eddie hadn’t been here. People were finally leaving, though, and without asking if he could, Steve followed suit in picking up everyone’s trash. He knew it would be obvious to Eddie at least, why he was staying back, but he felt himself not caring for the first time in a long time. He wasn’t entirely sure what these feelings were, but he found himself leaning into them instead of pretending that they didn’t exist. Maybe it was because he was older now, or because the world was different, or because he longed for the closure that he never got nine years ago. Or maybe it was all of those things.

He was throwing away a makeshift pyramid of dirty paper plates and plastic cups when Eddie came up beside him. 

“You don’t have to do that, you know. This was your high school reunion.”

Steve chuckled. “I’d feel more at home at your ten year reunion. Or hell, even Henderson’s.” 

“Yeah? You still talk to Buckley? Wheeler? All those other little shitheads?” Eddie asked fondly. 

Steve smiled, nodding. “Yeah, yeah. Henderson and Sinclair are finishing up at IU, actually.”

“I know,” Eddie replied with a grin. “I was their favorite, remember?”

Steve playfully nudged him with his shoulder. “Shut up, Munson. I was there first.”

Eddie chuckled, tying the full trash bag in front of him but leaving it in the bin. “Janitor will come and take the bags out tonight,” he explained. He walked over to the middle of the gym and started up at the ceiling, his hands on his hips. Steve followed his gaze to see green and orange paper streamers haphazardly adorning the rafters.

“Didn’t think that one through, huh?” Steve teased, as he walked up behind Eddie. 

Eddie spun around, mimicking Steve’s question in a voice that sounded not at all like Steve’s.

“Eddie, we’re heading out. Good luck with the streamers — told you it was a bad idea to throw ‘em up there!” the woman who Eddie had been talking to earlier called out, following two other women outside the gymnasium door.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Eddie mumbled back, sending a lazy wave of acknowledgment in their direction. He looked back up at the ceiling and let out a sigh. 

“You don’t have a ladder?” Steve asked.

Eddie shook his head. “Not one that tall.”

Steve nodded, rocking back and forth on his heels with his hands awkwardly stuck in his pockets. With Eddie looking up at the ceiling, Steve could see some tattoos poking up from underneath his shirt collar, and he couldn’t help but wonder what Munson would look like without it on. 

“You okay, Stevie?” Eddie questioned, snapping Steve out of his fantasy before it could progress any further.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Fine.”

Eddie smirked, his brown eyes staring into Steve’s. Steve’s breath hitched as Eddie reached for him, and his eyes followed Eddie’s hand as it pulled a piece of green tinsel from his hair. 

“You’ve had that in your hair for an hour,” Eddie explained.

Steve could feel a warmth creep up into his cheeks as he stared down at the hardwood floor. There was a moment of silence, and then, “What’s your secret, Harrington?”

“What do you mean?” Steve replied. 

“You look even better than you did in high school.” 

Steve chuckled nervously. “Uhm, dunno.” He shrugged, his hands still in his pockets. He looked up hesitantly before returning the compliment. “You, uh, look good too, Eds. Different, but the same.”

Eddie took a small step toward him, leaving minimal space between them. Steve gulped nervously. What was happening?

“You still react the same when I compliment you,” Eddie observed.

“I do?”

“Mhm.”

“Still not used to hearing them, I guess,” Steve replied. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. No, seriously, what was happening?

“That’s a shame,” Eddie said.

“Yeah,” Steve croaked. 

Eddie took a step closer. There were maybe two inches between them now. Steve stared at the man in front of him, his heart in his throat. 

“What about being kissed? Are you used to that, yet?”

Steve could have thrown up. Jesus fucking Christ, was this actually happening? 

“Uhm — y-yeah. I mean, by women. Uhm, but n-not by —”

Eddie smiled sweetly and reached out to tuck a stray hair behind Steve’s ear. 

“We don’t have to, Stevie. If you’re uncomfortable —”

“No! No, I — uhm — I want to,” Steve reassured him.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause it might screw you up forever, Harrington.”

Steve huffed a laugh through his nose. “ Now who’s the cocky — oh .”

Steve felt a lot of things the moment Eddie’s lips met his. Relief that it happened. Regret that it didn’t, all those years ago. He felt everything suddenly fall into place, like despite what he had been telling himself all these years, this was what he had needed all along. His hands came to cup Eddie’s face as he deepened the kiss, wanting more of him, wanting to be closer , even if they couldn’t be any closer if they tried. Not with clothes on, anyway. He felt Eddie’s hand in his hair, the bulge in his slacks, and okay — they should really stop now. But Steve didn’t want to. He wanted to stay like this forever; a bundle of limbs standing in his high school gymnasium with the crush he could never admit to himself. The knot in his stomach turned into fireworks, and yeah… he was screwed. Forever.

[lemoncrushh]

Too Far From Texas | Chapter Nine

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 4657

I felt sick. I wasn’t sure how much sleep I’d actually managed to get, but I knew I’d gotten up to go to the bathroom three times, and laid in the bed staring into the darkness for so long that my thoughts had started to get twisted.

Lorelei was quiet during breakfast, smiling and nodding to the handful of things I was willing to share, though her looks at me over the table told me she was dying to get the details. Finally, during our cab ride to the bookstore, she nudged me.

“Alright, spill.”

“Spill what?”

“What exactly happened? I’m assuming you stayed the night, but the fact that you don’t have the most lovestruck, goofy look on your face tells me something’s off.”

I looked down at my lap. Lorelei leaned closer.

“Is he not that good?” she whispered.

I eyed her, then sighed. “No, that’s not it.”

“Really? ‘Cause I mean...it happens. He wouldn’t be the first man not to live up to expectations.”

“He…” I gazed out the window, “he exceeded my expectations.”

“Wow! Seriously? Hot damn!”

I shook my head.

“Are you sore? Is that it? Sometimes when I’m with a guy who’s...kinda big...I feel off kilter for a few days. Like I’m totally blissed out, but also raw. What I do is soak in a hot tub and then lie down with a pillow between -”

“Lor!” I interrupted. “I didn’t sleep with him.”

“What?”

“Well...technically I did sleep with him. But we didn’t have sex.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” I sighed again. “Emery was sick.”

“Wait, what?”

“Tod called me. Emery had a high fever, and he was worried, and of course that got me worried ten times more because he never worries about shit.”

“Oh, God!”

“I kept my phone next to me so he could keep me updated, but here I was on this amazing date with this amazing man. And I knew, Lor, I knew I was gonna sleep with him. I was ready. But I just...couldn’t.”

“Well of course not! Your baby was sick! Plus, you were having to talk to your ex on the phone. Who the hell can concentrate on sex when that shit’s going on?”

I widened my eyes. “Thank you!”

“Wait, was he mad?”

“Who?”

“Harry. Was he mad you didn’t have sex?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Well, he said it was okay. He’d wanted me to stay though. And I know it had to hurt when I said no.”

“You probably bruised his ego.”

“I didn’t mean to.” I swallowed hard. “There’s more.”

“More?”

“I had another dream.”

“A dream about Harry?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “While I was with him. We’d fallen asleep after Tod had called to say Emery was okay, and I woke up shaking.”

“And?”

“The Harry part was...sweet. I was happy. It was my birthday and he’d asked me to marry him.”

“Oh my God!” Lorelei squealed.

“It sounds ludicrous now. But I remember feeling amazingly happy in the dream. Then Tod showed up and told me I’d never truly be happy.”

Lorelei scoffed. “He’s said that to you before.”

I shrugged. “Maybe it’s the truth.”

“No, it’s not, it’s a lie. And you know it. You might be a little afraid of letting yourself go simply because you had an asshole telling you how to feel for so long. But I think once you do, you can and will be happy. The happiest.”

I turned my head to the window once more. “I think I’m falling for him, Lor.”

“That’s awesome!” she declared, grabbing and squeezing my hand.

“No, it’s not,” I muttered. “It’s frightening as hell.”

The book signing was much like the ones in Texas, only at a larger scale. More people came, which shocked me considering we weren’t local writers. One woman, who looked to be around our age, stood and chatted with us for several minutes about her own personal story that was very similar to Melissa’s. She’d come to New York fifteen years ago in search of her twin sister from whom she’d been separated at birth. Lorelei and I laughed when we heard that after finding her, she’d fallen in love with her sister’s brother-in-law. He’d acted skeptical and aloof in the beginning until she’d confessed her belief that they were soul mates.

“I told him if he wanted to act like I didn’t exist, that was fine, but I knew we were meant to be together, and I wasn’t planning on leaving until he saw the truth.”

“Maybe that’s what Melissa should have told Gavin,” Lorelei quipped.

“Nah,” the woman shook her head. “Gavin was too stubborn and hard-headed. Not like my Sammy.”

By the time we broke for lunch, we’d already sold more copies of The Loving Kind than we had in a full day in Houston. Lorelei and I walked around the corner to a deli, and when I sat down to eat my sandwich, I checked my phone.

Just wanted to wish you luck today. I’ll call later.

Shit.

I hadn’t realized I’d voiced it aloud until Lor asked what was up.

“Yeah, he’s mad,” I mumbled.

“What?”

I handed her my phone so she could read his text.

“Stacey, where the hell does it say he’s mad? He’s wishing you a good day. And he wants to talk later.”

“Exactly. Short and sweet. No “I miss you” or “baby” like he usually says. He’s mad.”

Lorelei rolled her eyes. “He’s busy. He made it a point to text you in the middle of his crazy schedule.”

“You’re right,” I sighed. Then I laughed at myself, my face in my hands. “Oh my God, I’m being ridiculous.”

“Well, you know, you were the one who left.”

“I know. Why did I do that?”

“I’m not blaming you, Stace,” said Lorelei. “I’m just looking at it from his perspective.”

“So you do think he’s mad.”

“No, I didn’t say that. But he might be...cautious.”

“Yeah,” I swallowed. “Yeah, he has every right to be. I mean, I’ve got so much baggage already. Why would he want me?”

“Stacey! Stop overthinking!”

I nodded in response, picking up my sandwich.

I had a stomachache for most of the afternoon. I smiled and greeted our readers, but my heart wasn’t in it. I knew I shouldn’t have been worried about Harry’s text. He’d said he’d call after all. I was reading too much into it. I felt like a fool for more reasons than one.

I hadn’t been back in my hotel room for ten minutes before he called. I caught Lorelei out of the corner of my eye grab the ice bucket and head out the door.

“Hello?” I timidly spoke into the phone.

“I want to apologize.”

“Um...what for?”

“I’d meant to set up the coffee for you again at the bookstore, but someone dropped the ball.”

I giggled and covered my face with my hand. “Oh my God, Harry.”

“Wha-?”

“I don’t know. You’re just...too much. I don’t know how to feel.”

“Feel about what? About me? Or coffee?”

“Stop it.”

“Everything okay?” he asked after a moment of silence. “How’s Em?”

“Oh, she’s fine. I called Tod this morning and he let her stay home from school. Her fever is gone, but she needed the rest since she’d been up late.”

“Good. And how are you?”

“I’m okay. Had a great turn-out today. It went by fast.” I didn’t bother to tell him about my stomachache.

“That’s great. But I meant...how are you? You still seemed pretty upset when you left this morning.”

“I did?”

“Stacey…” he sighed.

“Hmm?”

“Look, as far as I’m concerned, there really isn’t any need to discuss what happened, or...didn’t happen. But if you wanna talk, we can.”

I felt my stomach flip as I scooted back on the bed. “I just feel like an idiot,” I whispered.

“Why?”

“Because...it was such a wonderful evening and I ruined it.”

“No, you didn’t. Stacey, I don’t regret one damn thing about last night. Except...maybe not trying harder to make you stay.”

“I wanted to stay,” I admitted. “Please believe me.”

“I do.”

“Really?”

“Just bad timing,” said Harry. “Or unfortunate circumstances. Out of our control. But I promise you, love, we haven’t missed our chance. We’ll have another.”

“I hope so. I’ve just been sick over this all day.”

“You have?”

“I’d thought I’d made you mad.”

“Baby…”

“Like I said, I felt like a fool. And now I’m leaving in a few hours.”

“I wish I could be with you before you go,” Harry murmured.

His choice of words were not lost on me. He said “be with you”, not “see you.”

“Me too. Where are you?”

“Rockefeller center. I’m filming The Tonight Show.”

“Ohh, excellent!” I exclaimed. “I love Jimmy.”

“Yeah, me too,” he chuckled.

“Would there be any possible way you could get a picture with him and send it to me? I might be a teensy-weensy bit of a fan.”

Harry laughed harder. “I’ll see what I can do.”

After the light-hearted conversation with Harry, I felt much better. Lorelei and I watched a movie before deciding we should grab something to eat before heading to the airport. We were looking over the room service menu when there was a knock at the door.

“Delivery for Barnett and Burns?” said the man on the other side when I opened it.

“We didn’t order anything,” argued Lorelei behind me.

“No, ma’am. This is courtesy of NBC studios.”

“NBC?”

“Oh!” I nodded. “Yes, thank you!”

The man smiled at me as I held the door open for him to bring the cart inside. On the top tray were what looked to be two covered dishes, a beautiful pink floral bouquet in the center. The bottom tray held a chilled bottle of champagne and a mini-sized fruit tray complete with dip.

“What the hell is at NBC?” asked Lorelei incredulously after the man had left.

“Harry. He filmed The Tonight Show today.”

“Oh, of course,” she chuckled.

Walking around to the other side of the cart, I let out my own cackle.

“What?” asked Lor.

Behind the floral arrangement was a Starbucks cup. I lifted it up to show her. “He sent me my latte.”

“What a guy. There’s a card, too,” she pointed.

I bit my lip as I opened the envelope. Unfolding the card, I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand.

“What is it?”

I turned it around so she could see the polaroid picture of Harry and Jimmy.

“I’d asked if he could send me a picture. I kinda just meant on the phone. I wasn’t expecting all this.”

“Well, I think the rule with Harry Styles is to expect the unexpected.”

“Apparently.”

Lorelei lifted the cover of one of the dishes, her eyes wide. “Wow, nice!”

“What is this?” I asked, removing the cover on mine. Once again, I couldn’t hold back my fit of giggles. Harry had sent a delicious meal of steak, salmon, potatoes and asparagus.

“I don’t get it, what’s so funny?”

“I’m not exactly sure if he meant to do this,” I replied, “but on our date we had chicken. He’d said it was because he wasn’t sure if I was a fish or steak person. And I told him I liked everything.”

Lorelei shook her head slowly, and I thought she might have rolled her eyes.

“Are you making fun of me?” I pouted, crossing my arms.

“Not at all,” she winked. “But you two are so fucking cute, it’s sickening.”

Sitting in an airport at night is interesting. There’s still tons of people coming and going, but in my mind, it seems like everyone should be at home, relaxing with a book and curled up under a cozy blanket, or holding their loved ones. Instead, they’re boarding planes, or arguing with the staff at the gate, or trying to get their baby to stop crying, or talking on their cell phones like it’s the most important conversation they’ve ever had.

I’d texted Harry before I’d left the hotel to thank him for the dinner, but he hadn’t responded yet. I sat next to Lorelei as I flipped through a magazine, not really reading anything. I watched a young couple across from me who shared a pair of earbuds, the girl wearing pajama pants and an oversized hoodie with her hands inside the sleeves. She leaned over and rested her head on the boy’s shoulder who gave a small smile without looking up from his iPad. For a split second I considered that he looked like a younger Harry until I remembered Harry was only twenty-three.

This time I actually did fall asleep on the plane. It was no wonder though, after the night I’d had before. I awoke just as the pilot was making the announcement that we were descending into Chicago. There was no Drew waiting for us at that airport, however. We took a cab to the hotel, a smaller, older one than the Hyatt, but I didn’t care. As soon as I rolled my suitcase next to my bed, I went to the bathroom to shower.

“Your phone rang,” said Lorelei when I returned. “I didn’t look to see who it was though.”

I actually had two missed calls from Harry. The first time he’d left a voicemail.

“Hi baby. You’re probably on your flight right now. I just wanted to tell you I got your text and you’re very welcome. When I told Jimmy about you, he actually insisted on the polaroid and the flowers. The food was my idea.”

The smile in his voice made me smile.

“Anyway, I miss you already. I wish you could have stayed another day. Maybe...maybe tonight would’ve been better. We could’ve continued where we left off.”

My breath caught in my throat as I heard him groan.

“Jesus, I shouldn’t be saying this on a voicemail. If...if I don’t...talk to you before you go to sleep, then have a good night and a good morning and I’ll...talk to you soon, yeah? Yeah. Goodnight, love.”

I stared straight ahead, my phone still attached to my ear. It took me a minute or two to even realize where I was. Blinking, I laid down on the pillow, covering myself with the sheets and comforter.

The call while I’d been in the shower was also Harry, but he hadn’t left a message that time. He probably thought I’d gone to bed. Pressing his name on the screen, I felt my heart race.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hi, did you just call me?”

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I was in the shower.”

“Oh.”

I sucked in my lips, wondering what the heck to say next. “I miss you, too,” I blurted.

I could hear him breathing through the phone. “Glad to know it’s not one-sided, then.”

“No way,” I said.

“Hmm.” That contented sound again. “Sorry, I’m really tired. I just wanted to hear your voice before I went to sleep.”

“That’s sweet.”

“I leave for London tomorrow,” he yawned.

“Oh.” I hadn’t realized. “Then I guess I’ll miss you even more.”

“Tell me about it. Have a good day tomorrow. You’re in Chicago, right?”

“Yes. And you have a safe flight.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Once again, the book signing went off without a hitch. Well, maybe a small hitch. I missed Harry. He’d managed to provide Lorelei and me with our much-appreciated coffee, a tiny offering that continued to make me feel special and reminisce about our first meeting.

I thought about him a lot. I knew he would be busy, whether he was in the air or on the ground, so I didn’t bother texting or calling him. I knew he’d contact me when he had time.

“We should go out,” declared Lorelei as soon as we returned to the hotel.

“Do you not recall the last time we went out?” I scoffed.

“We had fun though, until you wanted to go back to the hotel so you could talk to Harry.”

“Excuse me for not being a party girl.”

Lor rolled her eyes. “I just mean we’re in a new city. And it’s Saturday night. And Harry’s most likely not going to call. Because by the time our evening gets going, it’s gonna be four in the morning in London.”

“You’re probably right,” I nodded, tossing my coat on the bed.

I wore the same dress I wore on my date with Harry. It was really the only thing I’d packed that was suitable for a night out, unless I wanted to look like I’d just come from the office or from the gym. I stared at myself in the mirror while I was waiting for Lorelei to finish up her makeup. I thought about all the things I’d hoped would happen when I’d worn that dress. I thought about the way I’d have let him touch me, how I’d wanted him to touch me. Closing my eyes, I ran my hands down my chest, my waist, my hips. I thought of his voice when he’d asked me to stay, and again when he’d said he’d wished I had. Grabbing the sides of my dress into my fists, I let out a sigh.

“You ready?” I heard Lorelei call.

Fluttering my eyes open, I let out one more deep breath. “Yeah.”

Pulling on my coat, I followed her out to the elevator.

The first club we went to was so loud, I thought my ears were going to bleed. I didn’t even like the music they played, not to mention the dancefloor was so crowded my claustrophobia was kicked into high gear. I went into a mini anxiety attack before Lorelei agreed to leave.

The place we found next, and ended up staying the rest of the evening was a bar where a live cover band was playing. That was more up my alley. The band was really good, too, and I knew all the songs they played - a good mix of classic rock and more current tunes.

We sat at a table close to the bar where we had a good view of the stage. The band was in the middle of a Foo Fighters song when Lor leaned over to whisper in my ear.

“Don’t look now, but someone’s watching you at the bar.”

“Well how am I supposed to see without looking?”

“Okay, but don’t make it obvious. Plaid shirt, three o’clock.”

Shifting my gaze to where she’d mentioned, I saw him. He was definitely checking me out, though he was also trying not to make it obvious.

“Eh, not my type,” I remarked.

“You mean he’s not Harry.”

“No, I mean he kinda looks like a douchebag,” I explained, lifting my beer. “Plus he looks like Tod.”

“He does not!”

“Yeah he does. He looks like Tod did when I met him.”

“Really?” Lorelei made a face. “I didn’t know Tod ever looked like that.”

“Well, he was no Brad Pitt-”

“Or Harry Styles!”

I pursed my lips. “Or Harry Styles. But he still managed to do a little something for me. Enough to fall in love and marry him and have two kids.”

Lor glared at me. “Can I gag now?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, you can. Sometimes I can’t believe I fell for him either.”

“You know you can do so much better, right?”

I smirked, taking another swig of my beer. “Yes, because you keep telling me.”

“That’s what friends are for, my dear.”

Setting my beer bottle on the table, I eyed the guy at the bar. The band switched into “Whiskey in the Jar” as I swung my leg to the rhythm. He smiled at me. I smiled back.

For the duration of the song, I guess you could say we were flirting. The more I caught his eye, the cuter he seemed to get. Or maybe it was just the beer. Lorelei nudged me, wondering what the hell was going on, but all I could do was shrug.

Just as the band was setting up for the next song, changing guitars and allowing the bass player to step up to the mic, a tall frame came into view, blocking some of the already dim light.

“Hi ladies,” said the voice occupied by the frame.

“Hi,” greeted Lorelei, automatically bouncing her blond curls from her shoulder.

“I couldn’t help but notice your beers are getting low. Can I buy the next round?”

Had Lor’s smile not been spread so wide across her face that she looked like she had a clothes hanger in her mouth, I would have laughed at the guy. But when he sat down and introduced himself as Brandon, I knew that my own boy-toy flirting had kept me from noticing that she’d been having some of her own.

Brandon seemed like a nice enough guy, but I quickly felt like the third wheel. I tried catching the eye of the boy at the bar again, but he was gone. It was just as well. I was probably just reacting to the attention instead of the guy himself.

I excused myself to go to the restroom and while inside, I checked my phone for any potential messages. Nada. With a sigh, I shoved my phone back in my purse. I didn’t know why I wanted to hear from him so badly, or why I’d expected to. I just missed him.

“Hi!” I heard before I saw him.

He was standing in the hallway that lead to the bathrooms. Okay, truth was, he was cuter than Tod. In fact, he looked nothing like him. But he still most definitely was not my type.

“Hi.”

“I thought you’d left,” he said.

“Nope.”

“What’s your name?”

I licked my lips. “Lexi,” I lied. I didn’t know why.

“Sexy?”

I laughed. “No, Lexi. With an L.”

“I like Sexy better. Fits you.”

I shook my head. What a dork. “I should get back to my friend.”

“I’m Chip,” he said, extending his hand.

“Of course you are,” I muttered under my breath. “My guess is corn.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Nice to meet you, Chip. But I really must go.”

“Why don’t you have a drink with me?”

I sighed. I guess it couldn’t hurt.

I rejoined Lorelei and Brandon at the table while I waited for Chip to bring our drinks, though they barely noticed my presence. The band played some 90s song and Lor stood up and swayed, Brandon taking advantage and dancing up against her.

When Chip emerged with more beer and tequila shots, Lorelei squealed and took a shot in one large gulp before carrying on with her dancing.

Chip and I tried to have a conversation, but I was bored with everything he had to say. I barely paid attention to his story about himself, where he was from (Cleveland? Milwaukee?), and where he went to school (Who the Hell Knows Tech). I wanted him to get the hint, but either he was dense or too drunk to care. When he came back with another round of drinks, I told him thanks, but that it would be the last one and Lor and I had to go.

“Aw, you don’t have to go so soon,” he slurred.

I grimaced. “Yeah. I have a plane to catch in the morning.”

“Both of you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes.”

“Doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere,” Chip pointed in Lorelei’s direction.

I nearly gasped when I saw her. Brandon had her up against the table, his fingers in her hair, his tongue in her mouth.  I watched as she hiked up her leg and wrapped it around his before he lifted her up and onto the table.

“Lor!” I whispered loudly, knowing damn well she couldn’t hear me over the music. I tapped her on the shoulder. “Lorelei!”

“See? Told ya?”

Giving Chip a look, I quickly rose from my stool and grabbed Lorelei by the arm.

“What the fuck?” she cried.

“We gotta go.”

“Why? What happened?”

“You’re drunk,” I said firmly.

“So?”

“So, it’s almost two a.m. and we’re in an unfamiliar city and you’re making stupid decisions.”

“I’m not stupid!” she exclaimed, shaking her arm from my grip.

“I didn’t say you are. Just your actions.”

“No, I’m not leaving!” she yelled when I tried to pull her hand.

“Why not?”

She stepped closer to me, her breath reeking of tequila. I supposed I hadn’t been keeping tabs on how many shots she’d had. But now it was obvious she wasn’t acting rationally.

“I’m going home with Brandon,” she said.

“The fuck you are,” I scoffed.

“Yeah. Fuck, Stacey! It’s something normal people do.”

She might as well have slapped me in the face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m horny. And I need to get laid.”

I sighed, my face falling. Shaking my head, I tried to grab her hand once more. ���Not like this, Lor. This isn’t you.”

“Yes, it is,” she whined.

“Say goodnight to Brandon.”

She turned to look at him, his tall body hovering over hers. “Sorry, hon. I gotta go. Nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered just as I peeled Lorelei away. I didn’t bother to give Chip anything more than a wave.

“Shit!” Lorelei groaned when she slid into the back seat of the taxi.

“I’m sorry, Lor, but you’ll thank me in the morning.”

“Maybe,” she sighed, leaning her head back. “But damn, I could climb that boy like a tree.”

The effects of the tequila were tenfold the next morning. Lorelei threw up a couple of times during the night, but it was the hangover headache that kept her in bed. I offered to make sure everything was packed and ready for checkout so that all she needed to do was shower and brush her teeth before throwing on her most comfortable sweatsuit.

It wasn’t until we were waiting to board our flight to Nashville that I checked my phone again. I’d made myself not check it when I’d gotten back to the hotel the night before, nor that morning when I got up. I figured if I kept checking every couple hours and saw nothing, it would only make me disappointed and paranoid.

However, I kicked myself when I realized he’d called. And texted. And sent a picture.

“Hi, baby. I’m sorry I missed you. You’re probably out having fun though, as you should be. I just thought I’d try to catch you because of the time difference. I’m finally going to bed. It’s almost five here. But I’ll ring you again when I wake up. Night, love.”

I felt my cheeks pinch as I smiled. I only wished I could have heard his voice that night. It was the text and photo though, that really did me in.

So, I thought of something that I don’t know about you yet, that I’m hoping to find out soon. How do you like your eggs?

Underneath the text was a photo of a table, a white tablecloth covering it with a teapot, cup and saucer. Beside the cup was a silver platter filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, fruit and muffins.

Regardless of the full display of food, however, the thing that got my heart pumping was what was in the bottom right corner. A leg. And not just any leg. But a hairy thigh, a white terry robe only half covering it, a knee poking out at the end. Whether he’d meant to show me skin or not, my mouth was watering.

I texted him back the cheekiest thing I could think of.

I like them any way I can get them.

I laughed out loud when he texted me back.

Good answer.

A/N: I really hope some of you find the humor in my writing, because I'm making myself laugh as I read it back lol.

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[janice-christ]

Some Answers To Your Questions (Transcribed by Janice's Daughter Naomi)

May 7, 2024

Hi all,

This is Janice's daughter Naomi again. We've been getting a lot of questions from some curious new followers and thought we'd just compile them all here in one post. Mom tends to veer off topic when she gets going so I'm here to transcribe the important bits and leave out the rest.

Q&A

Q: Can you tell us more about your alien abduction?

A: 1997 - October 14th. Matthew Mark Luke John and I were in a brief period of separation and I was home alone with Naomi. I'd just put her to bed around 7 o'clock and walked outside to have a cigarette (Camel blues - and while we're on the subject, why don't they allow smoking indoors anymore? We used to be able to light up an honest to god Pall Mall in the middle of Catholic Mass back in the 70s) [note from Naomi: this rant went on for 13 solid minutes before I got her back on track]. Anyway, I walked out to stand on the front porch and I passed out. Next thing I know, I'm getting strapped up and suspended from the ceiling, high in the air with my belly down and gooch out. I couldn't see anything but the floor at least 10 feet beneath me. There were probably nine or ten little guys looking up at me from below like town perverts waiting for an upskirt shot. Ugly little fuckers. You could see through their skin to their organs. I'm pretty sure the one who strapped me up was the leader because he had a hat. Then suddenly the lights went dark and I screamed - and that's when I heard three other screams. Definitely human. I have no idea who they were or where they are now and it tortures me twenty four hours out the goddamned day. Then I felt a big ol' gust of pressure and I was transported to some sort of void. Black all around me. A few seconds later the Hat Guy wheeled a TV in front of me and turned it on. For the next 3 hours and 15 minutes, the screen played James Cameron's "Titanic", which I found very odd as the movie wasn't due to release on Earth until December. As soon as the credits rolled I woke up in my bed as if nothing happened. I almost thought it was a dream until I dug into my morning bowl of cottage cheese and tasted sulfur as if my entire mouth was painted with the stuff. Now anything I orally consume tastes like that. I have to get my nutrients through a DIY feeding tube I engineered in '98. Patent still pending but I hold on to hope.

Q: You don't seem too worried about your missing husband, but your daughter Naomi does. Why?

A: I don't know - you'll have to ask Naomi why she cares so goddamned much [note from Naomi: he's my dad]

Q: Your bit isn't funny

A: Is this some type of internet explorer slang?

Q: Why do you hate your 4 year old grandson so much? Do you hate kids?

A: I love children! Zachary is not a child. He is a government drone. [note from Naomi: We're working on this relationship]

Q: If you could find the other victims from the night of your abduction, what would you ask them?

A: Oh, too many questions to name! But to start I'd ask if they also watched Titanic or if they got a different film like Boogie Nights or Good Will Hunting.

Q: You say you're single and looking - what kind of partner are you looking for?

A: Anyone who can slap my ass and ride a hog, honey (MUST be willing to assist in twice-daily tadpole experiments)

[note from Naomi: please do not indulge her in this, I am begging you]

---

That's all for now, folks.

Once again, my father is still missing. Last seen wearing a tweed suit in Atlanta, Georgia six months ago, black toupee, 5'3", ~230lbs, walks with a slight limp, favoring his left side. His full name is Matthew Mark Luke John Christ.

Please, PLEASE reach out if you have any information whatsoever on his whereabouts. As Mom said before, there are no known photographs of him as he is staunchly against photography as a concept and industry. If it helps, he looks a little bit like John Goodman if John Goodman was 5'3" with a black toupee and a limp.

Maybe we'll do another one of these if we get some more questions in bulk - Zachary and I are moving in with Mom to help her out until Dad comes back so things are a little chaotic here as you can imagine. Until then, please spread the word about my father if you can.

-Naomi

AND janice xx

[spockandawe]

OKAY, before I go back to gently decaying into the floor, I feel like I have to make a quick impassioned case for victoria goddard's books in general, and at the feet of the sun specifically, because I had assumed that at some point the series would reach an emotional peak and that later highs would be pleasant but not the same HEIGHTS, and... so far I have not been proven correct!

Okay. OKAY. 'The Hands Of The Emperor' was very very good. I read it, what, last year? I'd had it for a little while, one of those purchases for when I'm feeling sorry for myself and like 'surely this book will fix me' and then I impulse purchase a huge slab of paper. I think a friend was checking it out, and that persuaded me to actually dive in, and at a certain early point, the momentum tipped, and oh MAN, this slip-n-slide has no end in sight and I'm still accelerating.

The universe this is set in is called the Nine Worlds, and there are assorted novellas and short stories and a few sub-series of books, but HOTE is a good place to start. Career bureaucrat Cliopher (Kip) Mdang is secretary to the emperor at the middle of this fantasy world, a position he rose to despite being a nobody from some remote backwater and subject to a lot of fantasy racism. He periodically goes home to visit his family and childhood friends, who are all very impatient to retire, but he's still involved in piecing the world back together after a magical apocalypse (between 25 and 1000 years ago, depending where in the world you are), and is trying to improve the government at the same time.

The action begins with Kip tentatively inviting the emperor, his radiancy, the sun-on-earth, the magical linchpin at the center of the empire, if he wants to go on a vacation. The emperor does, and oh my god, I should have had such trouble getting into a story that's so.... quiet isn't exactly the right word, sedate isn't the right word, but it's bureaucracy that's front and center, and family dynamics, and politics and government, and it should have been a hard sell for me. I took a day or two off work so I could keep reading at maximum velocity.

Smash cut to the end of the book. I am about to dramatically oversimplify and also skip over a NUMBER of heartwrenching reveals. The emperor is placing a certain amount of ceremonial and political power in Kip's hands, and going off into the world to look for his heir. I thought that was the end of that, honestly? Again, usually, I would be a hard sell for an ending with those nominal stakes, but I was fully Into It here. That's 'Hands Of The Emperor'

The next book, 'The Return Of Fitzroy Angursell' (The Red Company Reformed, Book 1) follows Emperor Artorin Damara as he sets out on his hot girl summer, and while I am reluctant to drop any momentum at all for the big chonkers, this is 1) good shit, and 2) load-bearing context for the next huge book, the one that just came out. It might be possible to read the big book without this one, but I really, really recommend reading it. You won't have context for why Kip gets ancient civilization visitors, and that's only a start. I highly recommend every single novella and short story too, but this is the one that's key.

Now, a spoiler cut, because I don't think I can write about how this book hit me like a sledgehammer without getting into some spoilery developments, but I need to scream.

OKAY. 'At The Feet Of The Sun.' Kip is in charge of the government, even though he misses his radiancy and is also highkey ready to go back home and live in the house he bought and maybe invite his several closest friends from the emperor's household to come live with him. I thought I could see the shape of where this book was headed. Then. The emperor's spymaster started confiding in him about telepathic dinosaur soulmates and discussing his 'dear friend, his correspondent, the imposter' and what she told him, and I started to get a sneaking suspicion that shit was going to go off the RAILS

(also, i called it, I COMPLETELY CALLED WHO HIS PEN PAL WAS, I'm so proud of myself. It wasn't all that hard, but I nailed it the moment it came up)

Yeah, even though I was suspicious, I had no clue about why things were going to go in certain directions, or how, or where. After that first book, I expected to stay firmly entrenched in either government life or domesticity and uhhh. Nope! That did not happen.

FIRST, we've got canonical AU time, which delighted me to NO end, and was milked for all the juicy emotional potential I could hope for. If you read the book and want Even More, the discord has links to extra chapters from the pov of [spoilers redacted] during this portion.

But also, without going into context? ADVENTURE. We're off on a journey! Kip mentioned earlyish in the first book that he had a very close friend he lost contact with over the course of the magic apocalypse and hasn't heard from since, and he finally has the time and space to go looking for him! I'm sure this won't get wacky and wild, this is a very sensible book after all, starting a bunch of middle-aged bureaucrats.

HELL NO, DOG, WE'RE ON AN ADVENTURE! I can't say much context, a lot of it really, really has to be experienced, and the little book in between the big two ones is such crucial context for emotional developments. But. We're getting properly mythical up in this joint, we're in the realm of the divine, we're negotiating and bargaining with gods and other such entities. But where a strapping young lad might be doing favors and winning tokens, so that when a god gives him an impossible task he has the secret to success... Kip largely does for himself! With exquisite courtesy and skill at bargaining won over the course of a long and very successful career. I'm not making it sound as delightful as it is, but if you've been aware of Kip's success at Littleridge since the first book, and you see him come to negotiate with the Sun now, just!!!!!!

Meanwhile, Tor is hanging with the boat crew eating popcorn and learning hobbies like 'oh my god, kip is seriously the BEST, isn't he?' (this is not exactly what the emperor was doing, there were reasons he wasn't along for the ride, this was delightful to me, again, when i wouldn't have pinged this as my hole that is made for me)

And now it's time for old men in the absolute THROES of emotion!!!!! We are going to have AWKWARD CONVERSATIONS and talk about PRIVATE MATTERS, and it's going to be nervewracking for me, the reader, who was honestly trying to get back onto a decent sleep schedule!!! We're going to see some heckin REVELATIONS from side characters who bring this whole vibrancy to the life of this poor man who was stuck in a sterile environment hedged around by magical taboos for half his life! It's going to be extra moving for reasons I'm not disclosing! The scope of this second book is properly MYTHIC, and almost none of the most logical story beats I thought it would address (heir, retirement) are even fully covered, because there's going to be a third book, babey!!!!!

Oh my goodness. If you haven't read HOTE, I can't contextualize the incredible intensity of the bombshells ludvic drops in this story, and rhodin is so much more delightfully unhinged than I ever gave him credit for. Conju manages to be as wonderful as ever despite minimal screen time (i would DIE for him), and I've never seen a man so eloquently express his affection through hair care advice. The scale of this book is MYTHIC, but also, vibrantly human. Some of the passages in here put me in mind of like.... the first time I read the sedna myth, feeling that settle into my brain and hollow out a new space. But we've got some fabulous, bright exchanges over poetry, both the love of it and the creation of it (and the BANANA SCALE). It has an iguana!

It's hard to say that a book has it all, but this one really does. The first book was still incredibly good, don't get me wrong, I recommend it so, so hard. But this one had me howling with delight at each new plot development. I am painfully invested in these old men. I still need to finish the Greenwing and Dart series, but after meeting Jullanar in there and in the return of fitzroy angursell, I need to finish the series for whatever more of her I can consume. I need to read The Redoubtable Pali Avramapul, which I somehow missed, and the second Sisters Avramapul novel. I've also already started rereading HOTE, and the things that are more OOMPH in retrospect are already coming fast and heavy. I reread Petty Treasons and Aurelius (To Be Called Magnus), both of which are so GOOD, and I know that The Tower At The Edge Of The World will destroy me (and Portrait Of A Wide Seas Islander i'm saving for dessert)

I don't know how much spread this series has, I don't participate in Online Book Communities so much, I don't read often enough or thoroughly enough to make it worth keeping tabs on those tides. But this is a book where I feel like I have to recommend it at maximum intensity to anyone with the poor judgment to make eye contact with me. I love everything about this book, and I have to at least try to introduce it to anyone who's unaware of it