You walked towards the windows and opened the curtains, feeling the warmth of the sun heating up your skin. It was the last day of summer and you could feel it would be a beautiful day.
'Morning, dear,' the old woman in the bed behind you replied. 'Come to look at an old hag again?'
You chuckled, walking over to her and fluffing her pillow. 'I would never call you a hag, miss Carter, you know that.'
She smiled as you put her medicine down next to her on the nightstand and went to the bathroom to get a glass of water.
'How are you doing today? Still in pain?'
She nodded, taking in a shaky breath. 'It will be fine.'
'You can always ask for more painkillers, miss Carter.'
'I know, and please, child, call me Peggy.'
You smiled, telling her you would. 'Are you comfortable?' you asked, putting the sheets of the bed back underneath it and tucking her in.
She nodded again, pulling h
*Soldier!UK X Fiancee!Reader*
'Palms rise to the universe
As we moonshine and molly
Feel the warmth,we'll never die
We're like diamonds in the sky'.
Tears gathered into the beautiful (e/c) orbs making them look glass like.Biting down onto her lower lip in order to estomp a sob and seeing it didn't worked that well,the female threw her right hand onto her mouth,the golden band which encircled her ring finger shining under the dim light of the house.
The shaggy blonde haired male left a sigh escape his lips,ruffling his golden locks in distress.He couldn't stand seeing his beloved fiancee in such a state - but it wasn't as if he really had a choice.
Bringing her into a warm,gentle embrace,the Brit patted her back in a soothing manner,cooing as if she was an infant and not the female whom he proposed to some days ago.
"I'm really sorry,(Name)!They weren't taking no for an answer!" the Englishman explained,not able to face her as he did so.
"When are you leaving?"
So, you've finally done it. You've scraped together the millions of dollars, dozens of passports, countless vaccinations and hours and hours of anachronistic language classes. The day is at long last here, and you are ready to take that romantic little vacation through time. Yes, time travel is everything you've been told. You will meet exotic people, doing exotic things in exotic eras. You will get to see the "Good Old Days" when they were better known as "These Wretched Times." But, before you hit the app button on your genius phone, there are a few things you should know:
Time Travel Don'ts
Don't shoot your grandfather. It's tempting isn't it? You've read about people who've done it on countless blogs and seen the very realistic, yet highly grainy videos, on YouTube. Shooting your biological grandfather isn't just against the law, both criminal and temporal, it is considered unacceptable behavior in just about all cultures. For now, let's put as
Don't say a word.
Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird won't sing,
Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.
Even though the skies are black,
And filled with smoke from the burning racks.
The lingering air here reeks of gas,
No, little girl,
We're not coming back.
But if you close your eyes real tight,
You can pretend everything's alright.
And maybe it won't seem so bad,
If you remember all the love we've had.
Hush, little baby,
Close your eyes.
And dream of yellow butterflies.
When you wake,
We'll be gone,
From this world where we don't belong.
He sees a potting shed littered with terra cotta fragments, soft loam, and quietly rotting tomato vines. It is fall now, and the place hasn't been used for nearly a month, not that his mother was ever much of a gardener - she prefers the career of a socialite, and complains constantly about this heathen life in the country. His father yells whenever she embarks on a new tirade, and his mother drinks something out of a square-cut glass bottle that looks as though it were pilfered from Oz, and then everything is still again. For a while.
He watches himself enter the shed, gawky and fair. Tears have made a paisley pattern of sorts in the skim of blood on his pale cheek, and the skin about his eye looks like an oval of wet blotter paper rife with plum-colored ink. He purloins a splinter of stake from the tomato ruins, and in his rage and helplessness, ass