#winter break is getting to me I'm getting delirious...

[bbutterflies]

something something new years eve... adrien's like yeah I've never kissed anyone at midnight :( nino is like I'll kiss you dude that's what bros are for kissing the homies on the lips. obviously. what do you mean our girlfriends are right there no man I'll kiss you totally it's fine I want to let's do it

[burning-academia-if]

How do the ROs react to the siren turning into them, and trying to seduce MC?

I'm surprised that siren ask was a hit lol Here's pt1

Rook: "You're ok MC, it's ok." He holds your shivering body close, trying not to let his emotions play out on his face. You were reaching for him, enraptured by not just the siren's song, but his own image. You stutter out his name, voice rough, but he only shushes you, "Just rest for now. That's all that matters."

Beck: The water is both his home and his curse. He pulls you away easily, golden magic flaring and lighting up the whole of the dark night and ocean. He doesn't let you go onto your back on land. You cling to him, body shaking. He waits for your thoughts to process and when you say his name, he breathes out a sigh of relief. You whisper, "That siren...it..." He presses a kiss to your brow, "I know. You can tell me later. Let's just get you safe and warm."

Rhea: She screams your name, feet splashing against the water as she runs towards you. She throws her arms around you, voice desperate, "That isn't me, MC. Wake up, it isn't me." The cold winter water makes her body shake, and even you tremble in her arms. There are people behind her, weapons drawn to take on the siren. It slips away before they can get close. You blink slowly, slumping back in her arms. She doesn't let you go. As your conscious fades she whispers, "If I'd known your feelings, I'd..." you don't catch the last of her sentence before you go under.

Zoe: They're shaking more then you, opening their mouth to speak, only for it to close seconds later. They can only see them taking your face in their hands, but it isn't them. Not really. It's the hands of a siren wearing their face. You had been so willing to embrace them, and they can't focus on that. They need to focus on you, on making sure you're ok, on getting you to safety. They swallow and take your hand, "...A doctor. You need to see a doctor." It's all they can manage

Lars: The siren lays dead at his feet, the image of his face flickering out to reveal its true form. The water laps away the blood splattered on him and on you. He has an arm wrapped around you, and you lean heavily into his side. "Lars, that wasn't-" "I know what that was." He has no emotion to his voice, instead pulling you closer to him and out of the water. Despite his words, he's careful with you, as he walks you back to shore, tide pulling at your legs. Somethings shifted, even if he doesn't say it.

???: They're in the water with you, lips pressed against yours and filling your lungs with just enough air to allow you both to break the surface without you falling unconscious. The water splashes around you, the waves tall and harsh from the storm. They don't let you go, blood tainting the water from where a siren's body sinks to the bottom of the ocean. "You really are mine, aren't you?" You're too delirious from the situation to register what they said, as they fight the tide and bring you back to shore.

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, 3x9, A Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving, Part IV

I just realized the winter carnival episode is next and tbh I'm pretty stoked about that one.

Ugh, someone left Gilmores on my front porch. Fetch me my broom. Shoo! Shoo! At Thanksgiving number one, we find out Lane is spinning yet another tangled web of lies to ensnare Soggy Rygalski (my new pet name for him, don't ask). Mrs Kim thinks Soggy is actually in a Christian band that Lane discovered through church and not a sinful rock band. Mrs Kim serves Tofurky and I feel as if our little vegetarian diner rat would have enjoyed that.

Welcome back, Soggy.

Dang. When Rory sees how people like her mother and Luke and Mrs Kim treat their employees, it's no wonder she doesn't want to get a job! Bad dum tssssh. Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night.

Why did I remember that scene as being a lot longer than it was? It lasted less than three minutes. Weird!

Onward, from Soggy to Sookie.

"According to the National Fire Protection Association: deep fryer fires cause an average of 5 deaths, 60 injuries and more than $15 million in property damage each year. Deep-frying turkeys has become increasingly popular, but the new tradition is a recipe for holiday tragedy."

Men, eh? One minute they're lying about turkey preparation and the next they're lying about having a vasectomy.

Rory looking gravely concerned or lost in thought as usual. Thinking deep thoughts about frying. Asked Sookie not once but twice "What do you use the oil for"?

Granny creakily rising from her lawn chair to join the hordes of Jackson's screaming white trash relatives has to be one of my favorite bits in this episode (maybe the season?) so far.

Gather round, white trash young and old. Your king has arrived.

THE FACES!

This whole scene is top notch. I tip my hat to you, Miss AmyShermanPalladino. After departing the white trash jubilee, it's time to circle back to Lukes. I know small business owners are hard working people who don't always have the luxury of shutting down and taking a break, but do you think he ever closes the diner? For anything? Christmas Day? Yeah, I'm sure ya'll can name a few times on the show where he closes up shop (would actually be interested to hear what they were). It wouldn't matter. He'd try to close on Christmas Day and the Gilmores would show up anyway and demand to be served instead of drinking eggnog in their own home. For Christmas, Lorelai should buy Luke a massage. (A LEGITIMATE MASSAGE. You filthy readers).

Mommy Daddy please stop fighting

*smashes Jess and Rory together like I'm 9 years old forcing two Barbie dolls to make out*

Alarming to see Lorelai treat Jess this nicely because I worry she may be ill. Or possibly delirious from hunger (she didn't eat at Sookie's or Lane's, she threw out Mrs Kim's tofurky and just gawked at Sookie's house). It looks like Luke was nice enough to give Jess the day off, but Walmart (and its Hunger Games-style Black Friday festivities) may still be calling. Is this the first real, hot, home made, lovingly prepared holiday meal anyone had ever served him in his entire life? (I'll give partial credit to The Bracebridge Dinner). No street wieners for Jess Mariano this Thanksgiving! Jess says he's starving, but Luke told him not to eat until the Gilmores arrived first. That's some grade a bullshit.

All he wants this Thanksgiving is for his fellow white people to Check Their Privilege. Good luck with that, Lucas.

Serving lewks. Luke has just served the table four heaping plates of hot food and upon hearing that the Gilmores will be trotting off to the McMansion next, presumably to eat way fancier, he says they can just throw everything the fuck out and drink soda if they want. Kay... Jess: Please, Uncle Lucas, don't take away my hot meal. I'm ever so hungry.

A screen shot of Milo eating makes a great gift or any holiday or special occasion.

How DARE you Lucas. You are not going to make my poor tired boy serve coffee to the Gilmores on Thanksgiving Day! Lorelai's your ball and chain, you do it.

Yeah, what a pity that not everyone can kiss like Dean.

"You and Jess are a couple of chickens pecking each other." Yooo, it's about time you pick a lane, Lorelai. You're confusing the poor girl. The last time an adult got wind that Jess and Rory were about to peck like chickens The Incredible HulkLuke smashed down the door and put those two chickens out to pasture. Rory: Mind your own business. Lorelai:???????? I assure you she does not know the meaning of the phrase. R: I'm not good with public displays. L: You didn't have that problem with Dean Me: Trying fruitlessly to remember any scene where Dean and Rory passionately made out in public or showed any sort of affection with each other anywhere that Lorelai could see it R: I don't know how this first second boyfriend thing is supposed to go. L: Well he's your first second boyfriend so give it time. R: The whole town got used to me with Dean. L: It'll get easier, you'll have hundreds of men. Well maybe not hundreds. A couple. Three more. Dean again, Logan, then Logan again. L:They'll adjust to seeing with you Jess! R: What do I do about Dean? L: Well he'll move on too. All this sensible advice coming from Lorelai? It is truly the Thanksgiving of Miracles.

God bless you, Babette. God bless you.

The next scene, a Friday (Thursday) Night Gilmores Showdown at the McMansion goes on for around 8 minutes which is going to feel like more than an hour in Salty Time. I'm going to wilt.

[kararisa]

marigold promises

— 16. hell week [☕︎ = 0.4k words]

cw: disorientation caused by illness

There’s no other way to describe it: you feel like absolute shit. If you were just a bit more coherent, you’d curse yourself for not sleeping in today. But alas, here you are in this damned clinic when you could have been acing that recitation in Communications.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you tried to fall asleep — the persistent hum of the AC combined with the fact that it feels like you stepped into Snezhnaya without proper winter clothing makes it hard for you to get some rest, and the towel on your forehead, while helping in the reduction of your temperature, certainly doesn’t make the chill more bearable.

You’re unsure of whether you’re awake or asleep when the opening of a door breaks the silence. You strain your ears to listen to the sound of footsteps, barely able to hear a familiar voice.

“Is it alright if I watch over my friend?” he, Albedo, asks. The nurse says yes and tells him you’re currently resting.

The footsteps get louder until they’re right next to your cot, then you hear the creaking of a chair as you presume he’s taken the seat to your right. You don’t bother to ask why in the world he’s chosen to be here, your piercing headache and lightheadedness discouraging you from moving.

The hum of the AC lulls you into a half-awake half-asleep state and you barely notice when Albedo starts to gently caress your head. You won’t deny that it helps ease your headache, even just a little bit.

A part of you wishes he’d do this more often. That he’d do this while you weren’t delirious from a cold and barely able to focus.

“You need to take care of yourself more, Cupcake,” he mumbles, “How am I supposed to do my best when you’re not there to compete against me?”

At this point, you’re sure the meds are kicking in or you’re in the middle of some fever dream. Because you definitely mishear what he says next.

“I miss you; sometimes I wonder if you miss me too.”

A pause. A breath.

“But I hope you don’t. It’s easier for us that way.”

Is it really, though? Or is that just an excuse — something we tell ourselves to justify keeping our distance from each other?

A buzzing sound interrupts his train of thought. You hear the chair creak, his footsteps moving away from you.

“Hello? Yes, I’m okay,” a pause.

“I’m… not in class right now, why? Do you need me to pick her up?” another pause.

Albedo hums, “Alright. Take care.”

He doesn’t even make it halfway out the door when the bittersweet embrace of slumber finally overtakes you.

— previous || masterlist || next

summary: it was evident that you and albedo have changed in the five years you’ve spent apart, but you know better than to view him through the lens of nostalgia. with one goal on your mind – graduate valedictorian – who better to stand in your way than the studious, intelligent, ice-cold albedo? one thing’s for sure: he’s going down.

author's notes:

the bitter irony here is that i'm posting this while battling a headache

i had a bit of trouble writing this scene since yn's keeping their eyes closed in an attempt to quell their headache and ignore albedo but i think it turned out pretty well

taglist (i): @fvkkyu @mintreen @edreee @khyllynnn @xxmirrorballxx @aiikalvr @yaefics @unsterblich-prinz @aequha @alch3myy @lovely-althxa @nei-rinn @cridtiins @zestrya @skylions-den @moriiartt @theother-victoria @sunsethw4 @dazaisfavgf @serossidechick @koiir @lazy-sanns @sweetbunnybunbun @dee-zbignuts @redactedhimbo @yurstepm0m @fanfictwarrior @fuyaa @saoiirsee @ireallylikehamsters @elfxiao @whos-angelx @kitsuvil @orionicchaos @blurr3db3rry @semi-orangeapple @kunikuzushiit @atlatcaheart @wrrapedroundmyfingerlikearing @jewelscara @lost-wicked-artist @kairxse @elysiasbae @eurekatanya @empathum @tatiratty @zannivrs @mikismusings @sunoo-bby @astolary

— the taglist is currently open! if you’d like to be added feel free to reply or send in an ask! – if your blog isn't highlighted it means i can't tag you.

[t-305tv]

Tori and Jade had been inseparable for years, and their relationship had grown into something deep and beautiful. They had their moments of bickering and disagreement, but at their core, they cared for each other deeply. One winter evening, as a cold front swept through Los Angeles, Tori fell ill. It started with a simple cough and a stuffy nose, but it quickly escalated into a full-blown fever.

Tori was bundled up in bed, surrounded by a pile of crumpled tissues and an assortment of cold medicines. Her normally vibrant energy had faded, and she looked pale and exhausted. Her voice had taken on a soft, raspy quality as she called out for Jade.

"Jade...?" Tori croaked.

Jade, who had been in the living room working on an art project, rushed to Tori's side. She looked down at her girlfriend, concern etched on her face. "What do you need, Vega?"

Tori sniffled and pointed weakly at the medicine bottles on her nightstand. "I need more of the blue one, Jade."

Jade picked up the bottle and studied the label. "Tori, you can't take more of this for another two hours. You'll overdose."

Tori pouted, her expression pitiful. "Please, Jade. I just want to feel better."

Jade sighed, unable to resist Tori's pleading eyes. She carefully measured out the correct dosage and handed it to her. "Fine, but only this once, okay? I don't want you passing out on me."

Tori nodded and obediently swallowed the medicine, leaning back against her pillows with a contented sigh. "Thanks, Jade."

Jade tucked the covers around Tori and brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. "You're lucky you have me to take care of you."

As the medication took effect, Tori's normally lively demeanor began to change. She became drowsy and started mumbling incoherently. Jade couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of her usually composed girlfriend acting so loopy.

Tori giggled, her eyes half-closed. "Jade, did you know that the ceiling is like, a giant marshmallow, and I want to touch it, but I can't 'cause it's up there, and I'm down here?"

Jade couldn't help but laugh at Tori's drugged rambling. "Yeah, Vega, it's a real tragedy that you can't touch the marshmallow ceiling."

Tori's eyelids drooped, and she mumbled, "You're pretty, Jade. So pretty, like, sparkly rainbows."

Jade's heart melted as she watched Tori's unfiltered affection shine through in her delirious state. She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Tori's forehead. "You're pretty too, Vega. Get some rest now."

Jade stayed by Tori's side, keeping a watchful eye on her as the medication worked its magic. As the night wore on, Tori's fever began to break, and she drifted into a more peaceful sleep.

Jade couldn't help but smile as she saw Tori's relaxed expression. Despite the silliness of the situation, taking care of Tori when she was vulnerable made Jade realize just how much she loved her. She settled in beside Tori, determined to stay awake and keep her comfortable through the night, knowing that tomorrow, Tori would be back to her vibrant self, and they'd face whatever challenges came their way together, just as they always did.

[goddesspharo]

I wait (im)patiently for all of your ao3 updates, you have such a gift for characters and story and im so glad you’ve decided to share it with us all 🫶🏼

With all of the different stories that you have going on, how do you pick which one to focus on?

I also just have to ask when we can expect another chapter of “can’t fake what you can’t break up with” which genuinely might be the best fanfic I’ve ever read

Oh wow, thank you so much! This was so lovely to see! It's always nice to hear that people enjoy your work! The funny thing is that in my heart, I consider myself a one-shot fic writer because I used to never post multi-chapter things, but it's probably time to accept that this is the monster I have become now that I write such long things due to my inability to just exorcise the demon of whatever idea nugget is in there without backstory and plot and all the other things that cause my WIP count to balloon.

The final chapter of can't fake what you can't break up with is a third of the way done (though, of course, not in order). The rate-limiting step really is this one scene that I just need to write because I'm fairly sure that everything after that will be much easier to write, but for whatever reason I keep not writing it but also not writing around it either. And in the time that I've been doing this, the path to the ending has sort of...expanded a little to include another scene that I didn't think about adding before. So the long short answer is that I don't quite know when I will post it (hopefully soon-ish? the story is still in winter and we are now heading towards fall in real life!), but for the sake of my sanity, when I do post it, it 100% has to be the end because if I extend this thing yet again, it'll be a never-ending winter and there are simply not enough months in the season for that!

I wish there was a more interesting answer as to how I pick what to work on, but it really boils down to whether one of them has ongoing momentum like a freight train (I felt that a bit for that on and off again (and on again) and deliriously for the first few chapters of can't fake what you can't break up with that lead me to think I'd bang that out in a month) or if I suddenly have a flash of knowing exactly what I want to write. (Usually it'll be a line or scene that pops into my head that is perfect for it and then I'll write my way to that scene.) But there are other WIPs that are fully plotted out in my head that I can't seem to finish right now simply because my brain doesn't want to put it into words just yet (definitely an indentation in the shape of you - God, someone just pull it out of my brain and put it in a word doc!). Or there are WIPs that born from me avoiding working on another WIP (hello the last few fics I've posted)! I've tried in the past to force myself to work on just one WIP even when I've got ideas for something else that are dying to come out and it's just not as enjoyable. Why limit yourself to the point where your fun hobby feels like a slog that you're not actually getting paid to do? (All that said, it does drive me insane to have unfinished WIPs racking up so basically I'm shooting myself in the foot either way.)

[uppastthejelliclemoon]

I SEE YOUR 2019 TUGGOFF HCS AND I LIVE.

Because I'm sad pls tell me about your hcs of them getting back together? 👉👈

HEY BESTIE OFC YOU CAN HAVE SOME 2019 TUGGOFF HCS

so as you obviously know i have MANY fics about them getting back together, but here's the basic idea for the timeline where they do get back together!!! (aka not the mistoriastraps timeline)

so, obviously, post-Ball, Tugger goes to check on Mistoffelees, because it was his first big display of magic, and past history or not, Misto's his favorite person, so Tugger has to make sure he's okay. Misto is absolutely touched Tugger comes to talk to him, and they sit and make small talk for a few minutes, until there's a bit of an awkward air. Tugger goes off, and leaves Misto all :(

i imagine at this point, they've both reconciled with each other after The Fight, but in an "i understand why you said what you said, it hurt, i'm sorry for what i said, you're still my best friend" way, not an "let's get back together" way, though they both want that

meanwhile, Tugger is so so proud of Misto, but also he's now being Insecure and all "oh he's so confident now, and everyone's realized what i've known, so obviously i've got no chance of getting him back"

meanwhile Misto is Yearning for his Maybe while Tugger is Pining for his Buttons

i have a hc where there's a bad winter soon after the Ball (which supports my regular hc that the Ball is in December on the Winter Solstice), and the Egyptian gets snowed in. and bc i can't resist tropes... Tugger finds Misto, and immediately offers to snuggle for warmth

there's a moment where Tugger starts backtracking, before Misto's tugging him to sit beside him, and they just cuddle together.

and it's quiet, and neither really says anything, because they're both realizing how much they've missed holding each other and being in each other's presence, but both of them are scared to admit that they still love the other because they think they'll get rejected

the morning after the snowstorm, they have a moment where Tugger gives Misto a bittersweet little smile, kisses his cheek, and says he's missed him before going off to help clear out the snow by the entrance.

and that's when Misto decides that okay, he's done being scared, and when the snow clearing is done, he grabs Tugger by the arm and drags him off to one of the backstage rooms, sits down on the floor with him, and says "we need to talk"

Tugger PANICS but Misto just starts pouring out his heart, saying everything he's wanted to say since their breakup, and pauses to take a break after word vomiting, and Tugger picks up where he left off, opening up and doing the same

by the end of it, they're both slightly delirious with happiness, giggling hysterically as they cuddle together in the secluded room, poking fun at each other and gently teasing, as if no time has passed

the tribe only finds out when Cassandra realizes that Tugger and Misot have started calling each other "Buttons" and "Maybe" again

[apurikottotii]

november song recs

i know this month hasn't ended yet, but i know it's gonna get busy after thanksgiving break, so i'm gonna write this now. i want to start writing these to sort of remember these months by songs i liked. a good reminder to how each month was like. this month was a lot less vocaloid centric than usual. maybe that's good. i'm becoming more normal.....

---this december - ricky montgomery

the second i heard this song i immediately fell in love. it felt like something i've heard before, something that would have played a lot during my childhood. it's so familiar. it really reminds me to not be so depressed and hopeless this winter, reminding me how wonderful life can be. because maybe, this winter, "i'll remember".

---internet yamero - needy girl overdose, kotoko, aiobahn

i tried to listen to this song before (because the vibes are immaculate), however i did not like the parts before the "chorus". well... i gave it another try because the chorus is just too good. the parts before the chorus i recently found to be so cool as well. the deliriousness kind of brings a smile to my face... it really is a song that encapsulates the internet well.

---spoiled princess - fujiwo

yeah i already wrote a post about this so i won't say much. what a nice song in a specific trope i really like. emunene cover is also splendid.

---animal - deco27

why am i still listening to this i swear it's been months. i first listened to the amane cover (which i honestly... like better. the instrumental is different and the timbre of her voice is really nice) but i recently started listening to the og vocaloid one too. one of the few deco27 songs i like... i guess the onomatopoeias are very catchy... as well at the 8-8-7#-8! that it does. a lot

---gehenna - wotaku

very recent addition, but it's very memorable. it vaguely sounds like happy halloween??? the instrumental/verses have such a different feeling compared to the chorus... but what a wonderful song in terms of its lyrics. "'i want to stay alive'/ i don't know why/ but 'i want to stay alive'" as well as "'i want to stay alive'/ 'I don't want to stay alive'/ it's so unfortunate/but we have to live"... and the whole last stanza on "deceiving" and "couldn't tell you". i love how it also says "and this is so sad". what wonderful wording. because no matter what, we just have to keep living. one thing that's throwing me off is the vague rapping in the background...? what is going on in the instrumental. also wtf mr. shanti guy made this. such a different style.

---phantasm suite - hoyomix "the golden midsummer"

okay. hear me out. it's a really really good instrumental piece okay... and the spoken word really makes it even better. "often times, i could not even see right in front of me/we will meet again, no matter how far along down the road", "to you from the past, i hope you liked this song", "please, be proud of all that is unreal... for we are greater than this world", "it has never voiced a complaint, for that is its destiny"... it reminds me of summer when i played this event.

---those eggs aren't dippy - jack stauber

the first 10 seconds are so fucking good????? especially the "let me in your eaaarrrr" i even made it my alarm! it's perfect because it's so short. unfortunately it's not doing a great job of waking me up. it's too catchy.

---love ka - hiiragi kirai

even though i personally did not listen to this song a lot this month, i recommended this song (via musescore) to a friend, and they really loved it so that's pretty notable. getting everyone hooked on vocaloid. seriously that musescore cover is so good. they adapted special quirks love ka does in its instrumental/vocals for piano, but not in the exact same way. they made a piano arrangement, not transcription. like tremolo for piano instead of vibrato???? gives it such a nice touch!!!

[rametarin]

Absolutely banger week for the Ukrainian military.

They're putting those toys the US has sent them to excellent work.

I'm genuinely impressed. When winter sets in, Putin's forces (unfortunately, Russian citizens forced to fight) will be on the backfoot and not easily have the means to defend against those toys, and be forced to contend with ATACMS in the snow.

I feel not enough is being said to address your average milquetoast, good faith republican's fears. We know the ones acting in bad faith are siding with Russia out of misplaced beliefs that Putin somehow cares about, "globo-homo." When, no. Putin is simply a Russo-supremacist and delirious. Putin is on Russia's side, not anybody elses.

The reality is the USA has already invested millions upon millions of dollars, and then those 70s-90s dollars of blueballed toys to deal with the Soviets adjusted for inflation. If we send ATACMS to Ukraine to deal with Russia, WE'RE SPARING OURSELVES THE COSTS FIRST TO BUILD AND THEN THE PAPERWORK AND EXPENSE OF DECOMMISSIONING PERFECTLY GOOD SOVIET KILLING MACHINES.

These things were MADE to kill Red Army members as they roll through other parts of Europe trying to annex and either absorb cultures and people in the name of Russo-Supremacism. DO NOT DENY THEM THEIR PURPOSE!! Let them fight! We are in fact recovering the costs, because Russia has made it clear if those soldiers aren't shot down now, they WILL eventually come for other European and Asian and African nations.

And now we get to help another country secure its own borders and independence FROM an autocratic menace.. and you mean to tell me there are some right AND left turncoats stanning for Putin's Russia here? Give me a break. You ACABbers and "anti-fascists" that pull out the minute daddy Putin declares Ukraine a non-entity, were the monsters and Things hiding in plain sight, all along. Putin IS the literal fascist you stomped around spitting crumbs at doughy middle aged data entry, insurance salesmen and accountants about.

And if the only way to destroy that war machine is to pound it until the rusted Soviet era welds burst and it collapses in a cloud of corrosion and sanction the country into the 1940s, then so fucking be it. As an American I am extremely proud our amazing stockpile of automated ass destroyers can actually be put to use rather than being stuck in the same unfortunate niche as the F-22: Such a menace and beast that the enemy knows not to do something stupid, like actually engage it.

This keeps things safe, but it also prevents a confrontation that leads to an inevitable conclusion. In Russia's case, for the best, since they had nukes.

But Ukraine has no nukes. Russia loses face and just comes off as the historical asshole if it resorts to nukes against a non-nuclear power that has so much less mass. It cannot wrest historical narrative from this.

This is the perfect opportunity to kick the legs out from under the bear hard enough to set it back almost a century and potentially even wrest the nuclear weapons out of it. Only a fool would pass this up.

[megkana209]

"Jake what's my surprise?" I ask questioningly.

"What goes perfect after a night of fun?" Jake asks me.

I lean over the side of the car and rest my head on the door, letting the sound of the road lul me.

"A nap." I reply.

Jake laughs "no you dork. Cake."

"Your keeping me up for cake?" I ask

"Not just any cake. But cake from your favorite bakery." He replies.

"You didn't. Did you drive all the way to wellington to buy me a chocolate cake?" I reply with a bit more pep in my voice.

"Ow I did. And not just chocolate cake banana caramel as well." He replies.

"OH my gosh Jake youre the best!"

Jake pulls the car into my parking lot and puts on the breaks, the old Chevy engine finally taking a rest.

"Come on let go inside and dig in." He replies.

The moon was full on that cold winter night. The streets frosted over and well lit by the street lights. Jake opened my door as I grabbed the cakes in the back, the surprise revealed.

Inside we sat comfortably on the couch nibbling at our desserts. Jake humming as he ate I sat and looked at him. Really looked at him. His long angular nose, framed well by high cheek bones and a full mouth. His eyes left his cake and peirced into mine.

"Checking out the goods." He says with a smile.

"Just wondering where that ego comes from." I reply.

"From my dashing personality. You can't tell me you have gotten swept up in it yet." His eyes twinkle with mischief.

"And what if I say I have?" I prod

"Then I'd say your a lucky lady because I just so happen to have been swept up too." Jake leans in and I freeze.

His eyes open and he stares down at me on the couch.

"I like you megan." He says in a husky voice, and something in me snapped.

I lunge for him not caring that cake is still in my hand. His lips are soft I notice as mine reach his. He set down his cake and takes me in his arms, the kiss so passionate I fear ill faint.

I break away for a moment "are we just drunk?" I ask half delirious

"I'm not drunk are you drunk?" He asks me.

"I am very drunk but I am also very, very much wanting this to happen." I reply.

He looks up at me and takes me in his arms again and kisses me softly.

"I very very much want this to happen too." He replies.

"Should we go in the bedroom?" I ask completely ready to be taken away.

"So eager" He teases.

"Jake I'm serious" I reply and his teasing smile turns to a soft one.

"Not yet megs. Let watch a show first. Settle down a bit." He replies.

I pout but comply, snuggling up to his warn frame. He grabs the remote and flicks on a trash t.v. show. The sounds already starting to lul me to sleep. I eventually nod off on Jake, only waking when I notice his comforting presence missing.

"Jake" I call out.

"I'm in the bedroom." I hear a reply.

"What are you doing in there I thought we were sleeping on the couch." I grogily get up from my spot.

I hear foot steps as Jake rushes out "ow no no no I have one more surprise for you sleepy head." He says

I wrap my arms around his neck and lean into him, still groggy from sleep.

"A sexy kind of surprise?" I ask.

He tilts my head up and greedily devours my lips. My breath coming hot and heavy in seconds, our bodies coming closer together.

"Yes a sexy kind of surprise." He rasps out.

I grin at him like a loon. This man. This sexy man was going to be all mine tonight. After all these years of loving this person it was finally happening.

"OK player. I'm game. Let's go." My turn towards the bed room but Jake stops me.

"Just a second there. We have to wait a little longer for this surprise. Let me get you a drink first." We with that we make our way towards the couch again, jake pouring me a drink in the kitchen.

"Here you are." He says

"This is my last drink Jake. I've had enough." I reply.

"No worries."

After a few sips of my drink my head begins to swim. "Jake I think I had too much." I say

"Take just a few more sips and let's head to the bedroom." He says

"One more." I take a giant swig but it only make my head swim more. "I don't think... was there something in that....."

"Shhhh" Jake says

The room is spinning at that point. The walls melting into each other. "Jake?!" I croak out.

"Itll all be over soon beautiful I swear." Jake replies. I try to get up but Jake forcefully pulls me back down.

"Ypu won't pass out for long with those much. Don't worry I promise I'll take care of you." Jake says

I begin to cry as my body goes numb and my head continues to swim.

"Why?!" I cry out.

"You'll know soon" Jake says.

[magalidragon]

dragon in a waterfall | a “bird on a wire” drabble

I don‘t know where this came from but I wrote it very fast at lunch. It is a missing piece to “bird on a wire” aka the Princess and Bodyguard fic. It is vaguely referenced in one of Dany’s thoughts in that fic. This is ANGST. Apologies for boo boos.

There was a ringing in her ears when she flicked her eyelids up, confused, wondering how come an alarm was going off-- shouldn't it be the middle of the night?  Was she sleeping this entire time?  Perhaps she was dreaming?

She tried to sit up, her chest aching, pressed on concrete, her evening gown torn from her shoulder and the skirt ripped in several layers around her knees and feet; she was really cold.  She never was cold; dragonblood, everyone joked, kept her running hot even if the frigid climes of the far North.  Except now she shivered, head to toe, her skin pebbled to gooseflesh.  The ringing was getting worse, when she tried to sit up, and she blinked again, her cheek scratched, and her side damp, like she'd landed in a puddle of water.

And she realized she was not dreaming.

Oh no, this was a nightmare.

"Jon!" she screamed, her throat vibrating from the exertion, the volume in her scream.  It came from her collapsed lungs, expanding them painfully, the horror at what had just happened settling into her memory, returning from the blacked out moment on the concrete.

She tried to stand up, but Barristan was grabbing her around hte middle, liftin gher bodily from the ground; her shoes were missing.  Her bare feet scrabbled on the cobblestones, unable to gain traction, her arms flailing, scratching at the bodyguard, refusing to listen to his commands.  Viserys was screaming for her, from the backseat of an SUV, before the door slammed on him, and she thought she heard her mother sobbing for her as well, and where was Rhaegar?  Did it even matter?

Nothing mattered.

None of her family mattered to her, because she had realized now what had happened, and why there was a damp spot on her side, and her body bruised and battered, and the chaos swarming them.  She could only see, tunnelvision, everything black on the edges of her sight, the figure lying in the center of the courtyard, blood pouring underneath him, Ser Arthur hovering over him, staunching bleeding with the shawl that had formerly been around her shoulders, and now was trying to keep blood in someone's body.

All she could see now was a hand, off to the side, fingers unmoving; fingers that had been in her palm only moments before, that had squeezed her hand deftly, when no one was looking, before she entered the Casterly Rock gardens for that evening's outdoor gala, to celebrate Rhaegar's coronation, while on a tour of the Westerlands.  It was never meant to be, it seemed someone was unhappy with that idea, and they'd decided to slip in under the guise of a waiter?  A driver?  Another bodyguard?  She did not know, nor did she care.

BEcause whoever it was had called her name and she turned, and then there was a shocking pain in her side and then she went flying on the ground, because Jon had lunged in front, throwing her behind him, and taken the hits instead.  At least, that's what she had envisioned in her mind, everything blurry and fuzzy, but it was making sense.

And he was lying there, dying on the stones, and she was somewhere else, ignoring Barristan as he tried to wrap a bandage around her, in the back of an SUV, while she clawed at the glass window, the door handle, screaming and desperate, not feeling anything but the need to get to him.

"Jon, Jon, Jon!" she repeated, delirious, screaming, her throat hoarse.  She spun on Barristan, trying to crawl over him, over Ser Gerold, who was barking at the chauffeur to get them to the pre-arranged hospital and ensure there was a full detail there.  "Let me out ! I'm fine!  Let me out! I need Jon!"

"Princess you're injured!"

"No I'm not!" she howled, evne though her hands were red, staining the inside of the SUV, and her head was swimming, everything staring to get fuzzy again.  Gerold was saying she was in shock, she had to stop, but she kicked at him when he moved to wrap her in a blanket, and continued to sob for Jon.

If he dies, I will die too, she thought, the last image before she passed out, of his face, before he'd pushed her, before everything went to the seven hells, when for a brief moment, they were a couple entering a party, to enjoy an evening, to dance, and maybe kiss under the stars.  His shy smile, tugging at the corners of his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling, so very handsome in his black suit, and even with that wiggly little wire that came out of his ear and threaded down his neck and arm to the microphone in his hand.  She jokingly called it the Sea Snake.  She'd given it a name, after the famous Sea Snake himself, saying "Corlys must be with us today" when he had to wear it around her.

He had been smiling because she whispered to him that they were practicing for a real date, one day, and it had been joyful, but sad too, because they didn't know when or if or how they could ever have such a day.  A day where he was Jon and she was Dany, and they were just out having fun.  They were strangers in a bar, they met, and they went back to his place or hers, and then coffee the next morning.

It was easy to pretend, because she knew they couldn't have it the other way.

Not yet.

They were working their way there, they were going to try, one day, but not yet, because things were too new with Rhaegar as king and Viserys was sick and too many changes at once were too much for her family to handle.

And now it was all gone.

She was going to lose him, before she could ever really have him how she wanted.

Stolen kisses in alcoves, disappearing in crowded dance floors in illegal clubs, and running into the night from hidden passageways, with sometimes months in between each.  She lived in a constant state of missing him, aching for him, even when he was inches away from her, always there, her protective shadow.

He had his hair back that night, like he did on big events, to keep it from his face, and she'd joked in the car over-- it had just been them-- that he looked like an aging hippie.  He teased her that he thought he looked like a young intellecutal.  "You, an intellectual?" she joked, kissing his knuckles.  "The man who has comic books on his nightstand?  Hardly."

"I'll have you know those comics are pretty deep, talking about man's fight against nature and his own inner self."

"Jon, it's about a cartoon Night's Watch ranger."

"Exactly, he's fighting against his internal demons because why else would he join the NIght's Watch?"

"You did."

"Aye," he admitted.  He turned to her, and stole a quick kiss, only because the partition between them and the driver was up.  He whispered, earnest, squeezing her hand hard.  "And it brought me to you."

She brushed her hand over his cheek, regretfully sighing when the car came to a stop.  "Hold my hand before we go in?  Just for a moment?  We can be on a first date."

"Save me a dance," he murmured, kissing her again, chaste, breaking away quickly to step out of the car first, to run around and hold open the door, and she blinked back tears, and plastered her smile on, breaking her cheeks and forcing it back, so when she climbed out of the car, waving at the crowds that had gathered outside Casterly Rock to see the royal family and other assorted celebrities enter for the grand event, she would be envied and beloved.

Daenerys, Princess Royal, didn't everyone want to be her?  She was so beautiful, so famous, so lucky.  She could have anything she wanted-- a horse, cars, planes, a castle even, and she never had to work, never had to give up anything for it, because that's the type of life she could have.

And they never knew that the glow to her cheeks was from sobbing before they left the hotel, the shine in her eyes was unshed tears, and her heart was breaking, each and every single day.

The Dragon Queen, the tabloids called her, even if she was but a princess.

She dreamed now, a world that was not her own, and perhaps she was dead.  Was this the afterlife, have I been burned like my ancestors before me, she wondered, drifting through trees, the ground soundless under her bare feet.

And she emerged in a beautiful clearing, with waterfalls in a pool, crashing against stones, jagged and lurching upwards from the ground.  It was breathtaking, snowcapped mountains surrounding the valley, hiding it from anyone who dared to enter such a peaceful sanctum.  She smiled, her fingers dragging along some flowers bunched around the rocks near the pool-- blue winter roses.  They smelled so sweet, i twas like they were emerging from a wall of ice.

She tugged on one, and lifted it to her nose, inhaling the lovely aroma.

"They make me think of you."

Turning at his voice, she was not startled-- of cours ehe was here with her.  He approached slowly, not in the all black suit he'd been wearing or the black uniform he favored or even his clubbing attire of black leather and boots.  He was relaxed, just like her, barefoot and free, white button down and loose gray pants.  She noted she was in a white dress; are we getting married, she briefly wondered.

She let him take the flower from her fingers, reaching to tuck it into her hair, his hand dragging down her jaw and to her throat, his finertips alighting on her pulse.  "Jon," she gasped, hands upon his chest.  "Is this just a dream?"

"If it is a dream, then it is a good dream," he answered, lifting her lips to his, kissing against the backdrop of the falls.  She moaned softly, returning the kiss, and clutched at his shirt, desperate for it, praying it would never end.  Except it did, and he broke away, the side of his nose against hers, breaths mingling.  "Blue winter roses are strong and survive in the harshest of winters, like you do Dany.  My dragon."

She blinked away tears.  "Are we dead?"

"No."

"Then where are we?"

He glanced around, smiling and shrugged.  "Appears we are in the North...I remember this place.  I came here as a boy."

"It's beautiful."

"So are you."

She wanted to stay there forever; she knew it couldn't be.  "We could stay a thousand years," she said, watching his face, the happiness there and then the sadness, his gray eyes clouding over.  "No one would ever find us."

"We'd be pretty old."

THen we'd be pretty old, we could grow old together, you and I, away from it all.  She allowed him to embrace her, kissing her, and swallowing her up, the dream falling away, like water trickling through her fingers.

And she woke up, lying in a bed, harsh hospital lights on her, and a tube in her nose.  She was stiff, cold, awkward.  The linens were scratchy and they'd placed her in a gown.  She had an IV in her arm, which she ignored, turning and struggling, her strength returning.  An alarm beeped, like the ringing in her ears from after hte attack, and someone  yelled that the Princess was awake.  I have a name, she thought, her feet hitting the cold title floor.  She whipped off the oxygen tubing around her ears and nose, fighting at the IV line connected to a stand next to her.

A door burst open, her mother rushing in-- still in her deep plum evening gown-- with a doctor and a nurse and Barristan.  "Your Highness!" Barristan exclaimed.  "Please, the doctor did not want you moving."

"Daenerys, darling, please listen to them," her mother called, grabbing for her hand.  "You need to rest, you've been hurt!  Oh gods, please just stay put for once in your life, stop trying to run away!"

No!

"Jon!" she exclaimed, pushing at them.  "I need to see him!  Is he dead?"

Barristan shook his head and Rhaella pushed her towards the bed in the brief moment she paused, focusing on the old guard.  "No, he's in surgery, please, do not worry about..."

"I have to worry about him!" She knocked away a nurse who was moving for her IV, after the doctor said something about a sedative.  "Don't you drug me!  I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Princess of the Seven Kingdoms, and I am the Dragon's Daughter and you will not stop me from seeing him!"  All the strength inside of her raged, fire flaring from her eyes and heaving in her chest.  She did not care.  "He is my Jon, he took a knife for me, and I will not be pushed aside like a simpering little girl!"

They didn't even tell her what had happened ot her; she guessed from the bandages wrapped around her middle, the ache there, that hte knife had swiped her, but not enough to do significant damage, as she could walk and talk.  They all stared at her, stunned, but she didn't care, pushing Barristan aside and struggling towards the door.

Rhaella drew her shoulders back, voice cold.  "Get her a chair, at least a robe, she will not be stopped."  She smirked.  "I know my daughter."

"But Your Highness," a doctor began, but silenced upon the glare Rhaella shot him. He nodded meekly and hurried out.

She collapsed into a wheelchair, head in her hands, and allowed htem to wrap her in a red robe that had bene in her hotel room last she remembered.  Time meant nothing to her; it could be days later, or hours, and she grabbed at Missandei-- her best friend of course had managed to get in-- when they went down the hall, seeing her urnning towards them from an open set of elevator doors.

Missandei cried, grabbing for her.  "Oh gods Dany!  I was so scared!  You're alright?"

"Jon was stabbed," she said hollowly.

Understanding, Missandei pushed away a nurse and took the chair, pushing her where they led, into an elevator, up a few flors, and down some hallways.  They pushed her into a room, dark, only lights from the operating suite it flanked, and she realized it was where the doctors and nurses scrubbed up before surgery.  She forced herself to her feet, grabbing the edge of hte window, staring at the activity going on in front of her.

Doctors and nurses flurried about the prone body on the table, bloodied materials tossed on the floor around their feet and tray tables at their elbows.  There were flashes of metallic objects as they worked, and monitors seemed to be hanging and standing everywhere, she couldn't focus on one or the other.  Some had lines going across them, numbers blinking and flashing.  Others magnified the activity going on on the table, all red and confusing.

There was something pulsing in the doctor's palm and she realized in shock it was his heart.  They were fixing his heart, stitching it together.

But that's my job.

That's my heart too.

"Is he going to be okay?" she croaked.

Someone said that he'd been stabbed seven times, one straight to the heart, and the doctors were doing all they could.  Her mother lightly touched her elbow, whispering.  "He did his job Dany.  I know you were close darling, but he did his job.  He protected you."

No we weren't just close. It seemed Barristan had realized that, even if her mother hadn't yet.  They would soon, because she wasn't going to stop.  She whispered, shaking her head.  "He saved me, Mother.  he didn't protect me, he saved me."  He saved me in all the ways you can be saved.  So many, many ways.

"We need to get you back to your bed," Barristan murmured.

She shook her head.  "No, no I am staying here.  I'm not leaving and when he's ou tof surgery, yo uwill bring me to his bedside."

"Dany," Rhaealla began.

She whirled on her mother, shouting.  "No!  No Mother, I love him, don't you get it?  He's not just my bodyguard, he is the love of my life and he's lying there on a table, bleeding for me!"  Her shoulders shook, the wails taking over her, and she released everything she'd been holding in, unable to take it, and fell into the chair, no longer able to speak, because she missed him and she hurt everywhere.

It was out, the secret was out.

Months and years of hiding, gone now, and she didn't care.

Time passed; she knew htey drugged her and she drifted away into a dreamless state, and came in and out, noticing that Rhaegar was there and then her mother, and she caught snippets of them saying Viserys had gone catatonic and was being taken back immediately to Summerhall for treatment.  She thought she heard Rhaegar say something about "if he pulls through we need to move him" and her mother saying that "it wasn't time for that."

She wanted to be out somewhere, in a club dancing, partying, and she wondered where Drogo wa shaving one of his latest raves and bashes.  It would be fun, she thought, tasting the alcohol on her tongue, her nose burning from smoke.  She came to again and this time there was no one in the room except Barristan, who ordinarily was her mother's guard, and for some reason was here with her.

"Barristan," she mumbled, blinking; her eyelids felt like there were weights on the lashes.

Barristan smiled and touched her hand, whispering.  "Princess."

Understanding, she tried to sit up, panicked.  "Jon, is Jon..."

"He's out of surgery.  Come Princess.  Before your brother finds out."  Barristan helped her from bed, into a wheelchair, and bundled again.  He took her from her room, in a fancy private suite, and said something to the other Kingsguard, so many of them flitting about, in their black suits with white shields on the lapels.

In another wing, in a smaller room, with a window looking from the hall into it, he pushed her towards a bed, where Jon was lying, his chest marred with bandages and tubing, arms locked down from wires and monitors.  There was a tube for oxygen around his nose, but no ventilator, and monitors beeping erratically around him.  Barristan leaned down, whispering.  "His heart rate has been...worrying.  It keeps dropping.  They needed to shock him twice."

Tears did not fall now.  She pushed herself forward, towards the bed, her limbs clumsy.  He was so still.  He was sleeping, but it was scary, because his skin was ashy and his cheeks gaunt-- had he always been so thin?  She traced his collarbone, where a few lines went into his skin, and along his pulse.  It thrummed under her touch.  There were dark bruises under his eyes and his dark curls were lank, pushed under his head and out of hte way.  She noted that his muscles were hidden under bandages, but he was strong, in so many ways, and he would recover.

He had to.

She touched his hand, sliding hers into it, and held tight.  It was limp against her.  "Jon please," she whispered, squeezing.  She leaned in, lips against his ear, begging.  "Please I need you.  I love you.  Come back to me."

Careful of everything, she crawled onto the bed next to him, her head beside his on the pillow, and she ignored Barristan trying to say that maynbe it wasn't good for her to be there, they should get her back to her room.  No, I'm not leaving. She kissed the corner of his mouth, sighing.  "Jon, come back to me, I love you, you can't leave me.  You're mine."

A monitor beeped.  She darted her eyes towards her, the heartrate increasing, and then steadying.  She knew it would.  He could hear her; he was in that clearing somewhere, waiting for her, and she closed her eyes, to fall asleep and go visit him there.

"Da....da..."

The raspy sound kept her from falling into that world, her eyes springing open.  "Jon?" she breathed, looking down at his face.

His eyelids fluttered, cracked lips trembling.  "Da...ny."

"Jon, oh gods Jon," she cried, kissing him, holding his face in her hands.  "It's me, I'm here."

His eyes opened, giving her a glimpse of the cool gray, and his lips pulled back, barely.  "Da-ny," he slurred.  "Love..."

"I love you, I know, don't talk.  Don't talk, I'm here."

They would deal with the repercussions later, the fallout from the attack, from everyone knowing.  Of course they knew now, because she thought she saw Arthur in the hallway which meant Rhaegar was nearby, and when her brother the King discovered that his sister the Princess, was in love with her bodyguard, it would have to end.  It would be too difficult to maintain impartiality, it would look wrong, and it could never happen.  He could not be her match, because she was the Princess of hte Seven Kingdoms and he was just Jon.

She didn't care right now.

It would fall out the way it would fall out.  They could deal with it then.

Right now, he was alive and in her arms, and that was how it should be.