#- happy quarter to seven am everyone

[nebulaafterdark]

More Than Anyone Pt.2

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

18+ ONLY

Summary: Last night Aegon and his wife fucked in a pleasure house, the Queen is livid.

Warnings: Targcest, porn with plot.

Part 1

When Alicent receives word that Aegon had found his way back to the silk streets, after weeks of reprieve, she is livid. Reports of his indecency with a woman resembling the Princess Y/N have spread throughout the Red Keep.

Then again, the poor girls always did look like Y/N. Perhaps that was love to Aegon, searching for her in everyone else.

The Queen reaches her eldest son’s quarters, barging through the common room to his bed chamber. She’s greeted with Aegon, spread about the bed. Y/N’s dark hair fanned over his chest as she lies against his beating heart. Aegon’s fingers twisted loosely in it, keeping her close. Perhaps that is love to Aegon.

Alicent reaches out a hand wiggling her son’s foot none too gently.

“Mmm.” He stirs, nuzzling into the crown of Y/N’s head. “My dearest love, Papa must sleep a while longer. Where are your maids, hmm?”

“Aegon,” Alicent hisses.

The man jumps at the sound of her voice, moving his wife’s head to the pillow beside him and standing. Still in his night clothes, hair disheveled from the hours before. “Mother?”

“How could you do this?” She begins scolding him, without preamble. “I thought you’d stopped this, I thought you wanted to do better. What about your wife?”

“I love my wife.” He says, immediately on defense.

“Fucking in a pleasure house while Y/N sits home with your children is one offense. But to have relations…in front of all those people; calling out her name and telling another woman you wish she bear your children is perverse! That is not love, Aegon.”

“I have made mistakes, I know them well. But I have not done what you accuse me of, I have never called anyone by her name. I only wish to see her with my child. She knows this to be true.”

“Then how-” Alicent breaks off, looking down to the Princess. Resting so sweetly against the mattress. “No.” The realization dawns on her.

“I know you do not understand it, mother. Y/N has always been accepting of my…interests. I failed to realize that these relations upset her so,” Aegon trails off. “She was there and she was crying. You know how I hate it when she is upset.”

Alicent sighs.

“I should have brought her home, I will not deny this. But I love her, I don’t not care who knows it. I am not ashamed.” He’d fuck her in front of the seven, if Y/N so willed it.

“She is Rhaenyra’s heir, your future Queen. You cannot sully her name.”

Aegon swallows down his guilt. “She is of high status, I cannot behave with her as if we are not.”

“What were you thinking, Aegon?” Alicent wonders, hoping to make sense of it.

Aegon shakes his head, as if to clear it. “There was no duty in it, only love.”

“You mustn’t allow this to happen again.” Alicent insists, “as your mother, I am glad that you have found happiness. I will quiet these whispers, but you must behave in a manner befitting your stations.”

“I understand,” Aegon nods.

Alicent pats his cheek gently, stealing another glance at Rhaenyra’s daughter. Unable to scrub the image of what Aegon did to the poor thing from her mind. “Perhaps the Maester should have a look at her.”

“I did not harm her, mother.” Never her.

“Of course,” Alicent nods, making to exit. “She must wake soon to prepare herself for Lucerys petition.”

Aegon flops onto the bed, puffing a long breath past his lips as he hears the doors close behind the Queen.

Y/N is still fast asleep, long dark locks flowing about her, perfect lips parted, completely content. She will make a fine Queen, brave and true. Dedicated to fairness and justice. She will work to better the Kingdom, for Aegon, for their children and their children’s children. She had told him this once, in the beginning.

“And what will you command of me, my Queen.” He asked, kissing the delicate pads of her fingers.

Y/N smiled, placing her free hand on her belly, great with his child. “I command you to love me forever.”

Aegon smiles, tracing the delicate planes of her face. Down the slope of her nose that she loves to nuzzle against his. The sweetest affection he’s ever known. It drives him mad at times, to love another person so much.

Aegon inches closer, peppering kisses to the skin of her shoulder. “My love.”

“Hmm?” Her dark brows lift in acknowledgement, though her eyes remain shut.

“We must ready for the petition.”

She yawns, rolling onto her back and stretching both arms up above her head. “I was having the most wonderful dream.”

“What about?” Aegon inquires.

“Can’t say aloud or it won’t come true.”

“Are you sure?”

Y/N nods, “my mother told me so.”

“I’ll have to take your word.”

Y/N hisses as she moves to sit, the soreness in her little cunt has Aegon’s cock twitching to life. He had been there, shoved every inch of himself into her and spilled his seed.

Laying a hand against the warm skin of her lower abdomen. “Boy or girl?”

It is a silly game, one they’ve played each time they tried for a babe. They have been wrong with their guesses on all three counts.

“Boy,” Y/N decides. Toying with his fingers.

“Girl.” Aegon counters. “Twins.”

“Gods no. Never again.” Their first term was twins, two perfect little girls. “Surely you do not hate me so terribly.”

“Wouldn’t you rather get it all over with at once?”

Y/N pouts at her husband, “no.”

“Forgive me for assuming.” Aegon chuckles, removing himself from the bed.

“I need to ask you something, dear husband.” Y/N murmurs, tossing her legs over the side of their bed; making to stand.

“Speak it,” Aegon nods. Unceremoniously removing his sleep clothes, striding about their chambers nude, to reach his tunic and breeches.

“Where do you stand on the matter of Lucerys inheritance?”

“Me?” Aegon scoffs, “you want to know where I stand in matters of the court?” He has little importance there, until Y/N is acting Queen anyway.

“As my future King consort, it is your duty to be privy to all matters of the realm.”

“My love…”

“You don’t think Driftmark is his birthright?”

Aegon sighs, passing a hand over his face. “I would rather bash my skull between the throne room doors than follow this line of questioning.”

“Tell me why?”

“You know why.” Aegon snaps, “I will never speak it. I swear on all my love for you, you and your brothers have my fealty. I will not betray you. Please do not make me say it.”

Y/N nods, crossing both arms over her chest “very well.”

“I’m going to bid the children good morrow, I’ll send your maid to help you dress.” Aegon presses a kiss to her cheek in parting.

Y/N wants to catch the hand that so sweetly cups her face as he does, but she lets him pull away instead. Swallowing down her pride. She does love Aegon. Fiercely, deeply, to her very bones.

“Good morrow, Princess.” Her handmaiden, Ania, greets her.

“Good morrow.” Y/N chokes out, carrying on as if nothing has happened.

————————————————————————

Queen Alicent and her father, the Hand, were supposed to over see the Driftmark petition. However King Viserys has come to sit the Iron Throne. This does not stop the Seasnake’s brother from his outburst.

“Her children are BASTARDS!” Vaemond unleashes a mighty roar, directed at Rhaenyra, “and she is a whore.”

Aegon reaches an arm across his wife. Y/N’s fingers curling around his forearm.

Daemon puts an end to it before the King has a chance to make good on his promise to take Vaemond’s tongue. The top severed portion of his head tumbles to the ground, before the rest of his body falls.

“He can keep his tongue.” Daemon scoffs, returning to his wife and children.

Before the Princess can choke it down, she is wretching, tossing the contents of her morning meal onto the floor.

Aegon moves quickly to action, holding dark hair away from her face.

“Oh, darling,” Rhaenyra rushes to her daughter.

“I apologize, Mother.” She then looks to her grandsire, “your Grace.”

“All is forgiven, dear one.” Viserys tells her. “This matter is settled. Lucerys Velaryon is the next Lord of The Tides. As this meeting is adjourned, you may excuse yourself.”

Y/N bows her head once more before taking leave.

“I’ll walk with you to your chambers.” Rhaenyra fusses about her daughter, as though she is still a child.

“No, Mama,” Y/N shakes her head. “I am a woman grown.”

“And dark scales for the tiny dragon.” Helaena mutters, under her breath. More speaking aloud than to anyone in particular.

“You are my child, I must fuss.” Rhaenyra jests, with a kind smile.

“I can take her, sister.” Aegon offers, “your presence is surely needed elsewhere. I will see to my wife.”

Rhaenyra nods, straightening her stance. “Very well. Thank you, Aegon.”

Aegon returns the gesture, escorting his bride back to their apartments to rest. Helping her out of her dress to her small clothes, wiping from her any remnant of the incident and settling her beneath the coverlet.

“I don’t know what happened.” Y/N remarks, suddenly exhausted from her efforts.

“You were quite emotional last night.”

“Was I?”

“You followed me to a pleasure house in tears, because you’d gotten it in your head that I did not love you anymore. I may be an imbecile, but my carryings on have never caused you upset.”

Y/N’s eyes flicker about his face. “It didn’t bother me for a long while. Then I was just…overcome with love for you.”

“You were overcome?” He cocks his head to the side.

“Yes.” Y/N rolls her eyes, “I’ve come to understand that I don’t want you running off to bury parts of yourself in other people. I want you to share them with me. I want all of you, Aegon.”

Aegon feels tears well up in his eyes. “I want to give you only the best parts. Not the fucked up bits that shattered off as the world so cruelly shaped me.”

“There is no piece of you that I could not love.”

Aegon rest his forehead against hers. “You are all I want.”

Y/N nods, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I am pleased to hear you say this, Aegon.”

“I- you must understand that I’ve never had anyone care so much for me before.”

“You did not realize I cared until now?” Y/N is sent reeling at this.

“Not the way I care for you.”

The Princess opens her mouth to speak but Aegon silences her with a finger to her plush lips.

“I was mistaken. You care very deeply for me and I do not take such love for granted. Though it still frightens me, I cannot run from this. For you are one half of me.”

Y/N tries to speak again.

“All of which to say, I don’t believe you are sick.” Aegon smirks, “I believe you are with child.”

“I couldn’t be.”

Aegon arches a brow, “When is the last time you’ve bled?”

Y/N’s eyes shift, trying to recount. “A month passed, maybe two.”

Aegon hums, bringing his hands up to her breasts, squeezing lightly.

Y/N gasps, batting at her husband.

“This is for research only, my darling.” Aegon assures her.

Y/N lets out a laugh, “surely that is your motivation.”

“They are sensitive, are they not?” Aegon muses.

She whines as he flicks her nipples.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He pulls himself away.

“Don’t start what you don’t intend to finish, Aegon.” She warns.

“Wanton, little thing. Aren’t you?”

“It is you who hath made me this way, my love.” Y/N reminds him, “spoiled me rotten.”

“Can’t very well let my sweet girl go without.” Aegon reasons, “tell me, what do you want?”

“I want you inside me. Whispering perverse desires against my ear so that I might provide them to you.”

Aegon draws in a breath, “I would love nothing more.”

Their coupling is much slower, softer than the night before. Sweet as tea laced with sugar and fine honey.

His body fits in hers like it was made to be there. Y/N allows her eyes to close, as she often does, in the throes of passion. Aegon’s remain open, taking in every inch of his wife. Memorizing the slack of her jaw as she whimpers into the open air.

The furrow of her brow as he rocks against her faster. The way her breasts bounce with his movements. “When these fill with milk, I will drink from them.”

Y/N lets out a sigh, pulling him closer. Fisting a hand in his hair as it rests in the crook of her neck.

“Would you like that?”

“Yes.”

“One of these days I’m going to claim your little ass, after I paint it the most beautiful maroon, with the palm of my hand.”

Y/N’s nose scrunches up, “you would strike me?”

“With love, just love taps.” Aegon assures her.

“What if it hurts too much?”

“Pain lingers on the cusp of pleasure. I will help you take it. I will make it good for you.” He kisses the side of her face. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” Lifting one hand and bringing it down on the outside of her thigh, then soothing with his touch.

“I want to be good.” She breathes, working her hips up to meet his.

“You are good.” Aegon coos, nuzzling her cheek with his own. “My good, sweet, pretty girl.” He takes his time, building her slowly to her peak. “I love you.”

“I love you more than anyone.”

Part 3

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Limelight Series - Chapter 3

Happy Monday Everyone! Here is chapter 3 of the limelight series! If you haven't read chapter two, click here to read it and then come back to read chapter 3.

This series came way of a message/ask from @hobby27 she asked:

"I would love something with Jensen and reader. He sees her when he’s at a convention and he’s bonkers for her. She isn’t so interested in a relationship with him because of the fame. So he has to woo her. Make her understand that he’s not a typical movie/tv star. Slow burn."

So I give you the Limelight series- It's a Jensen x reader (plus size, curvy girl) story, Jensen meets the reader in a bar, he falls fist, she is reluctant of course, but secretly she fell for him the second he walked through the door. So can a small town girl and a celebrity make it work?

Warnings for the whole series: language, multi-pov and switching between the pov mid chapters (sorry I can't help it), Jensen coming off aggressive for a hot second but then cooling off. Some douche side characters and some lovable ones, body shaming, angst, fluff, swoon, Jared is there and Micha is mention.

This story takes place an AU where Jensen is not married but Jared is and has kids.

This chapter is 2K+. Feedback, likes and reblogs are always welcomed. Please don't post as your own work, this is my work. If you would like to be added to my tag list, just ask, I am always happy to add you.

Thanks!

You walk into the lobby at quarter to seven. You are always early for anything, even for things that stress you out all day and make you second-guess everything. You thought about and composed two 'Sorry, have to bail' texts before giving up and swallowing your fears. 

James, of course, was sending you constant pep texts all day—after you chewed him out for giving out your number and not giving you the heads-up. 

"What! I knew if I told you, you would be mad. And I thought there was no point; he already had it." James tries to justify it over the phone. 

"Yeah, but I could have been prepared and not acted like an ass. I am surprised he even suggested a meeting." You reply, pushing your way through the gallery doors and towards your studio in the back. 

"Come on, of course, he did. He really does like you. Besides, this is what people call a date Y/N, not a meeting."

"Ha! Like me? He doesn't even know me."

"OK, well, he wants to get to know you. He did some impressive groveling."

"The way I heard it, you sold me out for a signed photo and possibly meeting up with Misha."

"He offered, I wasn't going to pass it up! So where are you guys going tonight?"

Opening your studio with the phone tucked between your shoulders, you struggle slightly but manage to get the door open and the lights on. 

"I'm not sure yet. I have until 7 to decide, " you say, somewhat breathless. Tossing your keys on the small table, you go through the room and over to the coffee pot to start it up.

Going through your morning routine, you discuss your options with James before saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

**** 

Pulling your phone out, you look to see if Jensen has sent you a 'sorry, I've got to bail text.' It's 7 pm on the dot, and there is no message. 

"Hoping for a bail text?" His low, deep voice filters in through your ears. His breath tickles your neck and pulls you from your thoughts.

Snapping your eyes from the phone, you turn to see him standing there, dressed in dark jeans and a dark purple button-down shirt. His hair is perfectly styled, and his eyes have a slight twinkle, along with the smirk on his face.

Shutting the phone, you slip it back into the pocket of your dark jeans. "No, I'm just checking the time, " you say, trying your best to keep your voice even and confident. 

Don't let it show that you're nervous as hell. You look him up and down, taking a step back. "You look nice," you say.

"Thank you, I have this really hot date tonight. I have to impress her. She thinks I am a womanizer." He jokes, giving you a wink. 

"You look beautiful as always." Paying back the compliment.

Looking down, you're wearing dark skinny jeans and a gray fitted V-neck sweater under your black moto jacket.

"Thank you, " you say, holding back the slide-dive about yourself that pops into your mind. 

You nervously run your hands through your purple pixie hair. "Umm... we should go. There is this great diner a few blocks down…" you start to say, taking a few steps back, but you're cut off by the screaming of fans.

"JENSEN!!!! OH MY GOD, IT'S HIM!!" A few girls walking in the lobby spot you two and start yelling and making a beeline for you two. Well, for Jensen, not you. They push you out of the way and block you from him. 

He does his best, smiling, while out of nowhere, two big security guards come up to block the group of girls from tackling him to the ground. Containing the mob, Jensen gives them each fanservice by signing something of theirs and taking a quick photo. The whole ordeal is over in ten minutes.

Once they are happy and the guards move them, Jensen's eyes find you. Leaning up against the back of a chair, you watch the display of fame firsthand. Keeping your face without expression, Jensen can't tell if you're mad. 

"You OK?" he questions, standing in front of you. 

"Yeah," you reply, keeping your tone neutral. You are not sure if you are or aren't, but what did you expect. 

"The bodyguards coming with?" You question, giving them a nod as you now notice them hanging close by. At a glance, you see they are the same two guys who were with him and Jared last night: Evan and Quinn. 

"Umm... yeah, sorry," Jensen replies sheepishly. "I promise they will sit at their own table." He added that he hoped this would be OK.

Oh, great, chaperones. I haven't had them in forever. Biting your remark, again, it's not his fault, right? 

"Yeah, it's fine." You reply, giving your best smile and looking at them, "You guys like Italian?"

****

The next day after the date, a coffee shop with James- 

"So, how was it? Tell me everything!" James asks, setting down his coffee and leaning in towards you. After blowing up your phone with texts early this morning, you finally agreed to meet with him at your favorite small coffee shop in Haven.

"I was promised a free drink with no interrogation to get me to come out." You reply, taking a drink. Giving off a look that reads, 'Don't make me relive that date again.'  

"Come on, Y/N, you can't go out with the hottest guy who has ever walked into our bar and not given me details." James wines, sitting back in the oversized chair and giving you his best pout face.

"Oh please, he's not the hottest guy ever, what about…" Trying to divert the conversation away from your date. 

"Stop stalling and spill."

Knowing that he will just keep it up, you cave. "Fine, it was fine."

"Just fine, that's all I get. Way to be a buzzkill."

"OK, OK, it was more than fine. It was nice, he was nice. He said all the right things, acted interested when I talked, and didn't keep the conversation only on him."

"But…"

"No, it's nothing. I mean, I knew that it wouldn't be your typical date."

"What do you mean by that? What happened?"

****

Back to the date-

"The restaurant is only a few blocks up." You say, once outside of the lobby and on the street. You start to head that way but stop when you don't hear Jensen or Evan and Quinn following. 

You turn to see them standing in front of a black SUV, the door open, and Jensen getting in.

"Yeah, it will be better if we drive there," Jensen says, holding his hand to take yours.

"Really, I mean, it's literally three blocks up. It will take longer to drive there." You say with slight annoyance. Walking back to Jensen.

"If you think the lobby was bad, we'll walk; we'll be lucky to make it before it closes."

Letting out a sigh, "fine." You conceded, taking his hand and getting into the car. 

You give Quinn the address and sit back next to Jensen.

"Besides, this will give us a chance to talk with less prying eyes," Jensen says. 

He gives you a smile, and his thumb rubs the hand that he is holding. "Is this OK?" He asks. 

Pulling your attention to his hand in yours. It feels nice and natural. "Yeah." You reply, looking up at him. 

Letting out a breath, "Not sure how much privacy we will have with those two." You quip, nodding your head towards the front. 

"Don't worry about them. They know how to fade into the background." Jensen reassures you, bringing your hand to his lips.  

"So, what brought you into the city today? Work?" 

"Yeah, I have a studio space close by." You reply, feeling yourself flush with the feel of his lips on your skin. Damn, if you're getting flushed by an innocent kiss on the hand, what's going to happen when he kisses you?

"You're an artist? Cool…but I thought James said you are a chef?" 

"Oh, yeah, well, it's a long story," you reply, not wanting to get into it right now. You look out to see you parked in front of the restaurant. 

"Oh, we're here, " you say, letting go of Jensen's hand, opening the door, and getting out. 

Jensen didn't circle back to her career change, picking up that she wanted to avoid discussing it. She would tell him when she was ready; he was sure of it. Unlike the city just outside the door, the restaurant was a cute, cozy space. 

This place was not overrun with Jensen's fans, so they could have a nice, quiet dinner without interruptions. It felt like an actual date, even with Evan and Quinn sitting a few tables away. 

"Wow, that was amazing food." Leaning back into his chair, finishing off his beer.

"Well, you would take offense if we had gone to a great barbeque joint, you being from Texas." You joke, finishing off your wine and leaning back in your chair.

"Oh, well, we have to go there next time. Maybe bring Jared and Genevieve."

"Yeah, maybe. It's in Haven, so the next time you guys are in for a convention." Don't hold your breath; there will be a next time. 

"The convention wraps up in a few days, right? Where are you guys off to next?" You question. 

"This was our last stop for a few weeks. So, I am free once we wrap this one up."

"Oh, cool, well, I am sure you're excited to return home."

"I guess I know Jared is; he hates being away from Genevieve and the kids."

"Yeah, I bet."

"Hey, Jensen, we should get you back." Evan's voice interrupts. He is standing beside the table, with Quinn standing slightly behind him. 

Jensen looks at his watch and then at Quinn, "I think we're good. Why don't you guys head back? Y/N and I can find our way."

"Sir, I don't think…" Evan starts to protest, but Jensen cuts him off.

"I do. Besides, I think you should be hitting the sack early after last night." Giving him a stare-down that would make anyone think twice about speaking up.

"Come on, Evan. It's three blocks. I am sure they will be fine." Quinn jumps in, trying to placate Evan and diffuse a situation before it starts.

Evan gives Quinn a stare-down before looking back at Jensen and you.

"Fine, let's go, Quinn," he says passive-aggressively. Turned on his heels and walked out the door, not waiting for further orders.

Quinn gives you a half smile before following after his coworker. You watch them walk out and shake your head.

"I feel sorry for Quinn; Evan is an ass." You say, playing with your empty wine glass. 

****

Back at the coffee shop with James-

"OK, so yeah, you had to deal with bodyguards? But it sounds like Jensen made a point to make the date feel real?" James states, being on team Jensen. 

"Yeah, he did." You agree, finishing off your drink. Waiting for a second, decide whether to keep telling your date's story or leave it there. 

"What?" James questions, seeing that there is more to this tale.

"Yeah, let's just say the date should have ended at the restaurant." Your voice is slightly cryptic.

****

Back to the date- 

Walking out of the restaurant, the temperature dropped as the sunset. Pulling your jacket close to you, you turn to head towards the hotel. Jensen grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with his. 

"We don't have to head back to the hotel right away. It's not like I have a curfew or anything." He jokes. 

"I don't know, Evan might send out the National Guard if you're not back soon." You joke. 

"Oh, come on, let's do something. Is there any place in the city you would like to go? " he asks, desperate not to have this night end and to return to the hotel room. He wishes he were anywhere else with her. 

You can see the hit of despair. Biting on the corner of your lip, trying to think of somewhere to go, his voice breaks your thoughts.

"Please stop biting your lip. It's very distracting, and I am trying to be a gentleman here and not the manhandling ass from last night." His voice was deep and slightly commanding. Giving you a wink, the hit of playfulness takes over. 

Letting go of your lip, you have so many thoughts about how to respond.

"You weren't an ass." Your confidence falling you; what you wanted to say was, 'Maybe you should be biting it.' 

"Humm…well, if we were in Haven, we could go to Lights Park. Around this time, the dessert trucks move in, and they have a classic old movie playing. The Park has all these amazing light sculptures throughout. It's a fun place to explore." 

"Sounds nice; let's go," he says, grabbing his phone. 

"I will call Quinn, have him bring the car, and we can go." He swipes the phone open and calls Quinn.

"No, No, Jensen, it's getting late. And I don't want to put Quinn out, to drive us out there." You quickly backtrack your idea. Letting go of his hand, you take a few steps back until your back hits the brick building.

"It's no trouble, really, plus Quinn will just bring us the car he's not coming with," Jensen reassures her, seeing her kindness and thinking of others is taking over. 

"Hey, Quinn, can you bring the car to Broadway and Park? We're just a block away. Yeah, we're going to take a drive. No, don't get Evan; you can bring the car." Shaking his head, he rolls his eyes, causing Y/N to giggle. 

He hangs up the phone, not waiting to hear more of Quinn's protest and talk about protocols. He would rather listen to Y/N laugh and see that smile back on her face. 

"He will be here in two minutes, " he reassures her, giving her a smile and putting his phone away. 

Closing the gap that she created, he locks his eyes with her. He takes in her beauty, the sun dipping past the steel buildings and the light wind wrapping her scent of lavender and lilac around him. Bringing his finger to brush her cheek lightly, the city seems to fall away. 

"I would really like to kiss you now," he whispers, asking for permission and waiting for her to tell him if he is going too fast. His breath mingles with her; he can feel her heartbeat increase. 

She is about to speak when the sound of a camera going off and a flash of light breaks our bubble, and reality forces its way in. 

"Jensen, over here! Who's the girl?!" The cameraman yells from the street. 

Jensen raises his hand to shield Y/N from the camera. She turns her head away from him, and the lights go off. Suddenly, more cameras show up, and the few people walking on the other sidewalk stop to see the commotion. 

"I'm sorry. Let's go," he says, grabbing her hand and walking towards the hotel. Rounding the corner, a mob bigger than the last one is coming towards them. 

"Shit!" He says, slight panic sets in. Looking around, hoping to see Quinn and the car, he's nowhere. 

He's about to turn and tell her to run when Quinn pulls up and uses the car to block the mob of fans that are running their way. Pulling the door open, he lets her get in first and follows. Telling Quinn to just drive and get them out of here. 

"I am so sorry," he keeps repeating. He's desperate and hoping this won't put you off seeing him. It's only sometimes like this.

"It's fine; I get it," she replies, looking at him. "Really, Jensen, I am fine." She gives him a half smile. 

"But we should call it a night. God knows I am not the most inconspicuous date you could have." You joke, pointing out your hair and overall appearance. 

"Yeah, but I like your look." He responds.

"Quinn, can you drop me off at Park and 25th? " You say, letting Jensen's comment fade. He's just being nice; remember, he doesn't go for girls like you.

To Be Continued.......

Tag List:

@ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl @n-o-p-e-never @stoneyggirl2 @lmhf1 @kr804573 @deansimpalababy @livingdeadblondequeen @winchesterwild78

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Nobody's Girl - Chapter Three.

Check your girl out over here like Oprah. YOU get another chapter, and YOU get another chapter, and so on! I am seriously so flattered by everyone loving the story so far, and watching you all so rabidly consuming it makes me so very happy :)

With the time off work I have had recently, it's meant the story has virtually written itself, I'm up to chapter eleven in the writing, so what I thought would originally be a shorter series has turned into a longer one, meaning I can update more regularly. Well, I can only hope you like this chapter just as much as the previous two, and if you do, remember to leave me a little comment, or a reblog. You would have my eternal gratitude for doing so!

Previous chapters - One Two

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,300

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

Conversation. With a woman he wasn’t involved with. Truly, Luca couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever enjoyed such, but there he was on an otherwise quiet Thursday night experiencing just that. A soft flurry of snow gently drifted down outside, his apartment the warm cocoon he and Emily sequestered themselves within, sitting on the couch, mostly her sharing stories of her life before she’d literally fallen into his.  

“I remember there was this one time, back when I first got caught up with them, I was taken for a game at this house in Queens. Joey had loaned me to his brother, Giacinto, but of course there was the issue of how he could get me in at the table. So, he made a bet on a bet, I guess you’d call it. Strode in there and announced that he bet each player two hundred bucks they couldn’t beat me in a game of seven card stud.  

“Of course, part of the point of poker is counting cards, but I can do it faster and better, and I did. I won Giacinto five grand in one night, and most of the guys were pissed as hell that I’d beaten them, except for one. He was an older guy, thick glasses, big birthmark on his cheek. He told me I was every man’s worst nightmare, a pretty blonde with a brain, and he respected that.”  

“That’s Jimmy Phelan, Irish mob from Philly,” Luca nodded, quite impressed that she’d grabbed his attention.  

She clicked her fingers in remembrance. “Yeah, Jimmy. That was his name. I’ve met so many wiseguys that it’s hard to keep up with all of the names. I remember the ones who have curious nicknames, like Carmine the Boots, and Duck Foot Silv. I never asked how they got them, though.” 

Luca knew, of course. “Carmine is the boots ‘cuz that’s what he does to those who earn it, fits ‘em with a nice set of concrete boots and sends ‘em off for a swim in the Hudson River. Silvio, they call him duck foot ‘cuz the guy was born with webbed toes.” 

Her eyes widened, leaning forward in her seat. “Have you seen the toes?” 

“I have,” he smirked, scratching his jaw,. “He does this trick, sticks a quarter on his big toe and flicks it about ten feet in the air.” 

She snorted with giggles, sipping her drink and catching an ice cube to chew upon. The sound of her cracking it between her teeth did something to his insides that he couldn’t explain, but was very, very pleasant. “I bet he’s a good swimmer too, huh?” 

“Guy don’t need no flippers, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” 

He looked at her for a long moment, enchanted as usual by her loveliness. It was so easy with her. She knew exactly who and what he was, and she just accepted it without fuss, acting unguarded with him, rather than either trying to work him out or shrink in intimidation. It made a nice change, to simply experience a slice of normality like that, and especially with a woman. Most only wanted him for his money or the association of who he was.  

Or his cock. He was famed for having one hell of a nice cock, after a woman he’d bedded had been very loud in her praise of it one time.  

“So yeah, back to Jimmy being nice to me. He gave me a hundred dollars, said I’d earned it, being such a good card player. I was amazed, and I thought the cash was mine to keep, but not according to Giacinto. Copped a huge beating for that assumption, ended up with this.”  

Hooking her finger into her mouth, she pulled her cheek back to reveal the empty gum space where her back teeth should have sat, Luca feeling caustic within. How hard must he have punched her to knock a both a double and fucking wisdom tooth out, he had to wonder, remembering how tough his own had been to have extracted by a dentist.  

“Bastardo,” he hissed, picking up his drink and knocking it back, refilling it. “Ain’t no big man’s game, sluggin’ a broad. You wanna prove you have cojones? Fuckin’ walk up to the biggest fella in the room and crack him in the mouth. S’what I used to do whenever I got thrown in Sing Sing as a kid, not long after I arrived here from England.”  

“Have you ever done serious time for your endeavours?” she asked, lifting the wool shawl where it had slipped from her shoulders, Luca wishing she’d left it. Any chance he got to view more of her beautiful, lily skin, and he shamelessly took it. It had been gnawing at him for the past fourteen days since she’d been there, chewing away at his resolve like a starving wolf.  

Usually, he’d have made his move by now on somebody he coveted. Hell, his record was ten seconds upon seeing a woman he desired, walking up to her and brashly asking a simple, three worded question. “Wanna fuck me?” No woman ever refused him. With Emily, though, because of her sheer loveliness, as tempting as it would be to corrupt, he held himself back.  

It was a fierce internal conflict he waged war with, his rampant libido dictating he simply take her to bed and bounce her on his cock until she screamed his name, the very little morality left within him castigating such, because of how innocent and sweet the girl was. He couldn’t tarnish something that lovely and pure with the infection of his darkness. Until he could come to some resolve, he supposed he’d have to simply deal with the juxtaposition of wanting to cherish her like a princess and fuck her like a whore.  

She was a billion miles away from the latter, though. Hence the conflict. 

Also, he got the distinct impression that she was still too scared of him. For the most part, she was settled around him, a little shy still, but definitely comfortable enough to open up to him and talk, just like she was doing on that particular evening. If he showed the weight of his desire for her, though, she’d surely bolt. The last thing he wanted was for her to flee.  

“I did a few years for theft, when I was eighteen,” he eventually replied, once he’d managed to finally pull himself back out of his thoughts. “Few times being locked up here and there in the time between, too.”  

“Don’t you mafia guys have the police on payroll, or something?” 

That was another reason why he held himself back. Would she truly want to remain in the world she’d been held prisoner in, should he instigate anything with her? Then again, at least this time she would have a choice. “We do now, yeah. Hence why I ain’t seen a cell in a while.”  

“I think I’d cry if I was ever arrested. Jail sounds scary,” she spoke, sipping her drink, her sweetness making his chest hurt. Why did she have to be the loveliest little thing he’d ever met? It was making him crazy, the want to protect her, the need to fuck her dirty, both colliding with the resolve that he’d solely keep here there until he knew all he wanted about the Calabrese family.  

It was a resolve that seemed to fracture away with every second that passed in her company.

She’d given him very useful information so far, too. Safe house locations his guys had duly gone in and looted, details of deals that she’d been made privy to that he’d been able to scupper before they’d had a chance to come to fruition. Because of Emily, he had the upper hand in the war against the family who – in his mind, at least – needed to show respect and fall back into line.  

What would happen when the well that was her information dried up, though? What, he was simply meant to let this beautiful little creature, this utter mythical princess of a woman unlike any others he’d encountered simply be on her way, and leave his life with a little less pure, iridescent sparkle in her wake? 

He was glad of the distraction when a heavy fist pounding the door below interrupted their evening, Emily nearly jumping out of her skin.  

“S’okay,” he assured her as he stood, resting a hand to her shoulder. “That’s Angelo, he has a habit of knocking like he’s the fuckin’ police.” He headed to the stairs, descending, opening the door but remaining out of her sight as he and Angelo exchanged hushed whispers. Luca appeared again after a few minutes, looking lamentable, but also angry as he pulled himself into his thick, black coat. 

“I have to go out, something I gotta attend to,” he spoke, Emily rising to her feet. 

“Oh, alright. When will you be back?” 

He shrugged, not looking pleased at all. “Hopefully not too long, but don’t wait on me, alright?” 

She nodded, and then completely on blind impulse, reached for his face, pulling him down to her tiny level and kissing his cheek. “Be careful.” 

His heart all but broke the ribs covering it with the force of its rapid thuds. He winked, thumb stroking the apple of her cheek. “I will, doll.”  

As he walked back down the stairs, he could still feel the soft press of her lips against his cheek, his pulse amped up from even the tiniest display of affection from his houseguest. He truly hadn’t expected it, and when he should have left the building with nothing but business on his mind, instead, it was only getting back to Emily again that occupied his thoughts.  

Meanwhile, the girl herself flopped back onto the couch, sighing as she covered her face with her hands. “Oh, god help me. I want that man so badly!” she grimaced, groaning with discomfort. Truly, she didn’t know how the hell to play it, either, feeling so conflicted.

Sometimes, he’d flirt with her, but she was too shy to reciprocate it, meaning he’d pull back and cool down with how he acted around her. Other times, she knew only too well he was trying to wheedle information regarding the Calabrese’s from her, information she found herself giving, getting herself furtherly wrapped up in a world she knew truly wasn’t any good for her.  

How much danger was she in, though, from her place beneath the albatross-like wings of Luca Changretta? Nobody would be fool enough to touch her. However, that was only if she became more to him than whatever she was, she supposed. Then again, he had told her several times already she was safe with him. 

Falling into a silly daydream, she imagined him taking her in his arms, kissing her, those big, tattooed hands laying worship upon her, that sultry voice of his speaking his wants and desires. She let her mind wander for so long that she was still partially in a daze when she heard a rapid knock at the door, followed by the creak of it opening, the music no longer playing.  

“Luca? It’s only me,” a female voice called, her heeled feet alighting the stairs. Before she could speak, a buxom looking redhead appeared, her face surprised as she took Emily in. “Oh, hi! I’m Maggie, and you are?”  

“Hi, Maggie. I’m Emily, and Luca is out,” she spoke, picking up her drink and finishing it. 

“Oh, oh alright. I must’a missed him leaving,” she muttered, holding two large jute bags in her hands. “I was just bringin’ up the takings to him, but I guess I can leave ‘em with you. You’re his new gal, right?” 

She shook her head. “No, just his, uh, his friend.”  

Maggie snorted, placing the takings down on the coffee table. “Luca don’t have gals who are just friends, sweetie pie.” She viewed her carefully, watching the way the young blonde blushed furiously, reaching for the vodka bottle. Only a tiny drizzle remained within.  

“Damn,” Emily pouted, “I drank it all.”  

“Hey, I gotta load of premixed cocktails I’d otherwise throw out. Fancy coming and helping me drink ‘em while I clean up for the night?” Maggie offered, suddenly feeling like she would be being rude to go and pour it all away, and leave the girl upstairs alone, waiting on a man who would likely be gone for hours. Especially too after she’d blatantly embarrassed the hell out of her by her assertion over her boss and his lack of female friends.  

Who was she to judge? Stranger things had happened, she guessed, although she had to admit, she was very curious. If Luca wasn’t giving her a good fucking on the regular, then just what was she doing there? She had noticed her boss not present down in the joint for the last two weeks, with none of his usual rotation of females making their way up to the apartment. Curiosity demanded an answer. 

Smiling, Emily rose to her feet, stuffing them into her shoes. “Sure, that’d be nice.”  Following Maggie back down, she was ushered over to the bar, taking a seat on one of the high stools, the clean up in full effect as people swept, tidied and mopped, the band disassembling their instruments and returning them to their respective cases.  

“Here, I hope you like Manhattan’s,” Maggie spoke, pouring a large measure into a copper mug and passing it over, topping off her own and holding it out. “Cheers, Emily.” 

“Cheers.” She took a swig, the alcohol hitting her throat so hard, she almost coughed, the redhead throwing her head back. 

“Sorry, sugar. I make ‘em potent!” she smirked, taking a soapy cloth and beginning to clean down the bar. “So, you and Luca. What’s the story, darl?”  

Emily didn’t really feel comfortable with revealing the whole truth to a perfect stranger, even though obviously she was a trusted person by the man himself. She wouldn’t have been working in his speakeasy if she wasn’t. “I’m staying with him for a little while.” 

“And you ain’t knockin’ boots with him?” she was then asked. 

“No, definitely not,” she replied, taking another sip of the rocket fuel in her grasp.  

Maggie raised an eyebrow, beginning to pick up liquor bottles from behind the bar and clean the runs and drips away with her cloth. “But you wanna, amirite? Everyone wants to fuck Luca, ‘cept me. I like ‘em a little prettier.”  

Watching her wink as a cute, almost angelic looking blonde saxophone player walked past and waved goodnight, Emily caught her drift immediately. Turning back to Maggie, she shrugged lightly. “I mean, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m his type.” By that point, she’d seen a picture of Filomena, his ex-wife when he’d shown her some photographs of his children. She was dark haired, buxom, Italian and glamorous. Everything she wasn’t.  

“True,” Maggie spoke, pausing to light a cigarette, her cleaning endeavours finished. “But men like somethin’ a lil’ different, they’ll find themselves urging for a taste of the unfamiliar when it’s presented to ‘em. You should give him a go, darl. I hear he’s good with his cock.”  

It was an unfortunate time to take a sip of the lethal Manhattan, Emily half spraying it back into the mug at her brazenness. Maggie couldn’t resist in teasing further. “One of the dancers here was fucking him a while back. Said he was hung like a bull and had the stamina of a guy half his age.”  

Emily felt herself shrinking with every word, Maggie throwing her head back and laughing hoarsely. “Oh, ain’t you a cutie! Gettin’ all shy. Sorry, I know I’m brash. I’ll behave.”  

Perhaps having a female perspective into her predicament might be helpful, she then pondered. Maggie seemed nice, friendly, too. It wasn’t like Emily had a whole lot in the way of friends, either, no gal pals to run her thoughts by. “Okay, so the truth is, I do want to,” she began, Maggie’s face lighting up as she leaned over the bar, huddling close. 

“Tell me more, sugar!” 

Pausing, she took another sip of her drink for courage. “I want to, but I never have before. With any man.”  

The barmaid’s eyes all but fell out of her skull. “Really?” 

She nodded.  

“But... why? Sex is amazing with the right guy!” 

Just then, a door flew open down at the other end of the room, one of the dancers striding out, mid-tirade. “It’s the fuckin’ same with all you fuckin’ Italian jerks!” she screamed, the guy following her looking nonchalant. “All of youse expect us to fuckin’ suck dick, but when it comes to returning it, nadda, nothin’, no sale! Would it fuckin’ kill you to eat me out just once, Luciano?” 

He shrugged, lighting a cigarette. “I ain’t about that.” 

“Yeah, me and my thirsty kitty cat know only too well, you two-bit fuck! We’re done!” She was out of the joint in a blur of sequins and fury, Emily and Maggie sharing a wide-eyed look at having front row seats to such a show. 

“Yeah, he ain’t the right guy,” the latter snorted, jerking her thumb in the direction where Luciano, one of Luca’s street guys had just walked in, softly cussing to himself in Italian.  

“To answer your question, I don’t know, really,” Emily confessed, thinning her lips momentarily. “I’ve never found anyone I like enough to do it with, I guess. It’s like I’m a beacon for shitty guys with bad intentions.”  

Her confidant didn’t truly know how to answer that, since Luca did seem to go through women like they were entering and exiting in a revolving door. However, there was a plus point. “Well, if you decided to, at least it wouldn’t be a lousy first experience for ya. He’s forty-three, the man has heaps of experience, so it wouldn’t be like my first. Two pumps and a squirt, baby. I was so disappointed,” 

The women both snorting laughing, Emily throwing her head back as she truly began to cackle loudly. Oh, she was funny, this brazen woman who had taken her under her wing and plied her with lethally potent cocktails. While she was beginning to relax and find herself making a new friend, the topic of their conversation was walking into a speakeasy in Bushwick, his crew around him.  

“Luca, glad you could join me,” Giacinto Calabrese spoke, leaning back in his seat. “Drink?”  

“No thanks,” he drawled through the chew on his toothpick, “won’t be stayin’ all that long. So, Angelo here tells me you gotta deal for me, huh?” 

His adversary gestured to a chair, Luca taking a seat, his eyes never leaving the man as he felt his mood darkening, looking at his hands. Those were the knuckles that had smashed the teeth out of her mouth. “I do, because you have somethin’ of ours we want returned to us, but I’m a fair man. I’m happy to exchange.” Lifting his chin, he pulled his cigarettes out, lighting one up. “Give me the girl, and I’ll walk away from the warehouses in Yonkers. You have my word.” 

He rolled his tongue against his cheek, chuckling a deadly hiss. “Your word is worth shit, and Emily ain’t for sale, pal.” 

“Oh!” The wise assed man laughed, entertained. “On first name terms with the little puttana now, huh? Wait, I can’t call her that, though. Bitch is more frigid than a fuckin’ nun!”  

Luca remained still, but his eyes moved with all the intent of a predator locking onto its target, slowly pulling the toothpick from between his lips. “The fuck you just call her, stronzo? A bitch?” 

“Yeah,” Giacinto laughed, “I called her a bitch, and...”  

That was as far as he got before the lion that was the head of the Changretta mob pounced, grabbing his collar and pounding his head down onto the table, their respective guys all drawing their weapons. 

“You’re outnumbered, fellas,” Angelo rumbled, tutting. “Put ‘em down.” The men fell back, all watching the scene unfold before them.  

Luca loomed like a shadow of death, his hand holding Giacinto fast against the smooth, dark wood. “Did you call her a bitch when you knocked her fuckin’ teeth out? Did ya? Tell me, how hard does a guy like you have to slug a tiny little thing like her to crack the goddamned teeth from her jaw? This hard?” His fist met his face in a sickeningly strong blow, the piece of shit beneath his grasp grunting in pain. “This hard?” He punched him again, this time loosening one of the teeth he was aiming for, Luca hauling him up and beginning to lay repetitive punches to his face, Giacinto flying back to the floor.  

With his rage pumping like water through a broken dam, Luca loomed over him, pulling a flick knife from his pocket and releasing the blade, holding it so hard against his cheek, his blood began to seep from beneath the press. “You ever speak her name again and I will cut your fuckin’ tongue from your head. The Yonkers warehouses are mine now, too, just for the fuckin’ gall of you. Give your fuckin’ father my goddamned regards, Giacinto.”  

“Fuck you, Luca!” he spat, shame and rage coiling through him.  

“Fuck me, huh?” he laughed, low and deadly. “Nah, kid. Tell me, you right-handed? You are, aren’t ya? It was your right hand you used to beat her, wasn’t it?” Wrenching his arm up, he grasped his wrist, bringing the knife down between his third and fourth fingers, beginning to slice through skin, sinew and tendons. Giacinto screamed, Luca holding the knife towards Angelo, needing both hands to grab the second and third, then fourth and fifth fingers, grasping hard before literally ripping his hand apart.  

“Can’t go punching little girls no longer now, can you?” Standing, he left him screaming on the floor, looking to his guys. “Step down from the warehouses as of tonight, or I do worse to all six of youse.” With that, Luca and his eight cohorts left the speakeasy, heading back to their cars, Brooklyn bound. Entering his apartment just under a half hour later, he made sure he was quiet, not wanting to wake the beauty in his bed.  

Hanging his coat and jacket, he unlaced his shoes, removing his tie as he walked over to the bed, just about able to see her outline there curled up, sleeping soundly. Reaching toward her face, he gently swept the platinum strands of hair that had fallen loose back behind her ear, tenderly stroking the apple of her cheek with the back of his fingers.  

He realised right there that she could never again utter anything about the Calabrese’s, and he wouldn’t care at all. He didn’t need her for information. He just needed her to be safe.  

The twisted irony wasn’t lost on him, though, that the very person she wasn’t safe from was the one whose bed she slept soundly in, but for very different reasons than what the Calabrese’s represented. He lingered there only a moment longer before going to the bathroom and undressing, pulling on his grey and white striped pyjama bottoms, heading for the couch.  

“Luca?”  

He actually jumped a little, hearing her soft voice suddenly sound through the dark. “Yeah, doll?” Turning, he watched her sit up, peeling the bed clothes back as she shuffled over, patting the mattress. “It’s freezing. You can’t keep sleeping on the couch. I don’t mind sharing.”  

He hesitated only a second before walking over, climbing in next to her, his heart beginning to race. Her warmth was the most alluring intoxication he’d ever felt near to him, wanting nothing but to wrap himself around her, meld his body to hers, tell her in no uncertain terms that Giacinto Calabrese would never dare touch her again.  

Lying there, Emily could feel the tension radiating from him, not knowing why he was in such a state, but sensing it all the same. Had something happened, while he was out, something to spark his temper, amp his ire? She felt him turn away from her, turning over herself and hesitating a moment before putting the advice she’d had from Maggie to good use. ‘Just move on him. You’re beautiful, sugar. He won’t turn you down.’  

It wasn’t necessarily a sexual advance, as Maggie had been specifically advocating, but it was a step in the right direction. Wrapping her arm around him, she pressed herself against his back, resting her hand to his chest. Her heart almost leapt into her throat when she felt him grasp her hand, thumb stroking, placing a kiss upon her fingers.  

He clutched her hand tight, feeling her breath flutter against his shoulder blades, his heart still hammering. If he turned to her, that would be it. He wouldn’t be able to hang onto the bull within him, goring against the very last of his soft flesh in a bid for freedom. Flesh that had softened for her. 

He remembered how he’d felt, punching Giacinto repeatedly in the face, until he had expelled blood with every groaned breath, all for her, because of her, because no man would ever make the sweet little darling curled against him feel less than all she was ever again.  

But still, he didn’t dare turn over. It’d be like Satan himself defiling the purest of angels. If only Luca knew, though, as he wrestled with the beast within, that the only thing the angel pressed against his back wanted was to feel the burn of his lust against her skin.  

[alder-saan]

Only for those who open their eyes

Brienne of Tarth x fem reader

Warnings : none

angst ? (not much though)

Wordcount : ~1600

You are a painter, and you are searching for models, for beautiful models. Then you see Brienne.

You were in your room, as usual. A paintbrush in your hand, you were looking at your most recent artwork. A month before, you had an idea, a brilliant idea. You wanted to paint beauty. But not the beauty of Margery Tyrell, or Cersei Lannister, who are conventional beauties. No, you wanted to find men and women with an atypical beauty. You wanted to paint the beauty of the damaged fields workers' hands, of the wrinkles on an old lady's face, of the soldiers' scars. That was your idea. And you thought not everyone would like it, but you didn't care. You would. And you were sure really art lovers would too.

The painting you were doing was a portrait of a young boy, with a scar on his cheek. You did the sketch today, in his house. You paid the mother who was not happy that her child was prevented from working that morning, but when she saw the money you could give her, she agreed. So you drew him. He talked about his life while you were doing this. You always loved this part of your job. You loved to hear your models personal stories. Sometimes it was amusing, sometimes it was touching. This time, it was amusing. He told you how he got the scar.

He was seven, and he was walking to the fields when he fell headlong into a bush. Leaves were stuck all over his head. In his hair, mostly, but also on his cheeks. And when he arrived in the fields, his goat (he had named him Eddard because he was a fan of the lord of Winterfell) ran towards him and ate the leaves, biting his cheek. Yes, of course, it hurt, but now the image of his goat biting him to eat leaves made him laugh.

And you came back to the castle, in where you had a room as the new lord's official painter. A big room you furnished with a ton of brushes, pigments each more expensive than the last, paintings bought from fellow painters... You really loved this room. It was a little isolated from the rest of the castle, and so you weren't often disturbed. It was cosy, with a large bed, and big dressers half empty because you were not really into fashion. It was on the top floor, and the floorboards creaked a little when you walked. You liked that sound.

But what you loved most was the view. You had view on the see, and you could see the sun rise every morning. The light was hitting directly the wall through your window and you loved how the shadows appeared.

You put down your brush. You needed a break. You didn't eat at lunchtime, and your stomach began to cry. You went out you room, and walked down the stairs. You might find something in the castle kitchen quarters.

You sneak into the kitchens and snatched a piece of bread. Nobody saw you, they were all focused on what they were doing. Then you went out, wanting to go for a walk in the garden while eating. But when you were in the corridors, you bumped into someone. Armour? Was it a guard? Shit, you were going back form the kitchen, a piece of bread in hand.

"I didn't stole anything !" You said immediately.

"Don't worry I am not a guard" She replied.

You looked up. She was a woman, she was so tall. And she was... Well she was precisely who you were looking for. Blue eyes, blond hair, pale skin, but unusual beauty. And that was what you found beautiful. In your eyes, she was Beauty.

"Perfect"

"I beg you pardon ?"

You cleared your throat.

"Hm, I'm sorry, good afternoon ser... lady ? I am Y/N Y/L, lord's official painter, and I am currently searching for models to draw them. Would you want to... be one of my models?"

"You... You want to draw me?"

"Of course, I'm working on a project, I called it 'Beauty', and I-"

"Very funny, lady Y/L, now if you'd like to stop now the joke, that'd be nice."

Her voice had turned cold. You were confused.

"Why do you think that's a joke? I don't look like a painter?"

"Oh, come on, you know who I am, don't you?"

"I-I am sorry, I don't"

"Brienne of Tarth"

Your eyes widened. Obviously she was Brienne of Tarth. Blond hair, blue eyes, THAT tall... And you knew. Some men were calling her "Brienne the Beauty", to make fun of her. That was why she reacted like that.

"I am sorry, if that sounded like a bad joke but it wasn't. I really find you beautiful. Well you are. Not in an expected way though. Trust me, as a painter, I know what's beautiful"

She was speechless. How could she reply to this? You took her arm.

"What if we talk about it in the garden?" You said.

She nodded. In fact she didn't know how to act. What if you lied to her to make fun of her? But she really wanted to trust you. Did you really found her beautiful? She had to know. She let you led her to the garden.

You sat on a bench, she was sat next to you.

"Do you want to eat? Turns out I may have stole a piece of bread."

She smiled.

"No thank you"

You bit the bread.

"Sho, like I shaid, I am working on a project, I want to paint beauty but not in the usual way. I already drew a sketch of a boy with a scar on his face, and finished a worker's hands"

"Why don't you choose a beautiful lady?"

"First : you are a beautiful lady. Second : I told you I don't want to paint the same people as everyone. I want to make something new! I want to do art!"

"You think I could be a great model?"

"Of course! You'll be perfect!"

She blushed. Were you crazy?

"So, do you want to be my model? I can pay you if you want" You said.

"No, that's okays, I'll do it."

"Thank you, Brienne! Meet me tomorrow morning here, we'll find a good spot. If you want to take your armour or sword, you can, and if you want to dress an other way, that's okay. Whatever you're comfortable with."

"O-Okay"

The next morning, she was there, sitting on the very same bench. She wasn't wearing her armour, but a blue shirt. However, she had her sword. And she was waiting on that bench. You were late. In fact you weren't awake yet. You had spent your whole night painting the boy, and you needed to sleep.

When you woke up, the sun was already high, and you ran to the garden, hoping she would still be there.

But she wasn't. She had leave the place, eyes filled with tears. You had lie to her. She felt so stupid to trust in you. Of course, no one would ever want to draw her. She was a beast. She was ugly. Why did people insisted on reminding her in such a painful way?

You felt so stupid for staying up so late. Now she probably would never want to talk to you again. And worst, she would think you lied to her. You kicked the bench.

"FUCK !"

Your foot hurt, but you didn't care, you had to find her now.

But you couldn't find her. She had left the city, as she planned this the day before. When you asked the lord about it, he told you he sent her on a mission...

And that night, in the dark of the room, you tried to draw her, from your memory.

Brienne of Tarth came back, four month later. You didn't knew that. You were too busy. You had just presented your project in one of the rooms of the castle.

She heard about it. And Podrick, who didn't knzw about the whole story, wanted to see that. He didn't knew anything about art, but Tyrion always told him art was important. So he dragged Brienne in the exhibition, not wondering for a moment why she didn't want to come here.

While Podrick looked closely at each piece (he was trying to understand), Brienne just walked into the room, eyes on the floor. There were few people, mostly noblemen. She sometimes took a look to one of the paintings. She recognized the worker's hands you talked about. She had to admit you were a very good painter. And she began to look more closely to your art work.

"Look, isn't this Brienne of Tarth?"

She sighed. Were they going to make fun of her now?

But when she looked around, there was no one who looked at her.

"Yes, that's her!"

She noticed the two men talking about her. They were in front of a painting she couldn't see from where she was. She came closer and saw the piece.

That was her. You drew her portrait. Brienne was confused. She looked so beautiful on it. She wasn't sure she was exactly like that for real. Then she saw little note next to it.

The only painting I made without a reference. Actually I was late at our meeting and when I came she wasn't there anymore so I had to do this one from my memory. Brienne of Tarth, my model, is exactly the kind of beauty I was searching for. She does not fit the beauty standards, but she carries grace and strength. She embodies the essence of my project. Beautiful, but only for those who open their eyes.

She looked again at the painting.

"I didn't know you were a model" Podrick said.

"Me neither. I just discovered it."

In the evening, you went to the garden for a walk. You were thinking about Brienne. You felt so sorry for her. You walked to the bench you were to join her.

She was there. She was sitting on the bench. You heart warmed up as she waved to you. You sat next to her.

"Good evening, I'm glad you aren't mad at me."

"Well to be honest I was. But I saw the portrait you made of me."

"Oh, really? Did you thought it looked like you?"

"Yes but... I'm not that beautiful"

"You are. And if you don't like it, no worries. I can draw you tomorrow morning. I promise I won't be late."

[nebulablakemurphy]

The Queen’s Hand

(Part VI: Last Supper)

Summary: Y/N Targaryen is Princess of the seven realms. First born daughter of, Viserys I and Aemma Targaryen. Heir to the iron throne, forced to make impossible decisions to ensure peace amongst the land and the safety of those she holds most dear.

Prologue | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

King Viserys sits high on his throne, watching the night’s festivities unfold. The ivory material of Aemmia’s dress sways around her as she moves. She and Aemond dancing at the center of the grand hall.

The King has never been particularly close with Aemond, nor the two other children he shares with Alicent. Not because he does not love them, he loves all of his children. But to see him now, the boy turned into a man befitting his granddaughter, Viserys is filled with immense joy.

Y/N and her good husband hath brought him plenty of happiness throughout their lives here. Though his eldest daughter is under the delusion that she still needs him, Viserys knows better. The only person she ever truly needed was her mother, his dear Aemma. Who the gods had so cruelty claimed as payment for his never ending pursuit of a son.

It became clear to the King that Y/N was the one to lead them. She is good and kind, her head ever level. But she chose Rhaenyra over herself. Y/N chose her over everyone. Dimming her own light so that Rhaenyra might shine a bit brighter. Y/N taught him of a love and sacrifice he had never known.

Rhaenyra has shown him unwavering love, the meaning of resilience; stubbornness. She gave him the courage to leave behind Aegon’s dream to chase his own. It was not until Rhaenyra arrived with the children, Aegon III in her arms that he remembered. He is sure now, more than he has ever been. Rhaenyra was born to be queen.

He watches Y/N and her husband with a quiet fondness. You were right, my girl. My brave girl. My clever girl. My darling girl. I will never be ready, but when my time here comes to an end, leaving you happy is a comfort to this old soul.

———————————🌱————————————-

Two days have passed since the wedding. If Aemmia is being truthful, Aemond is not half bad. Mostly he craves attention, though he says he doesn’t want it. And a son. Perhaps a son above all.

Tonight they are to dine at the red keep. With her family and his. Everyone has been on their best behavior, but Aemmia knows; this is the calm before the storm.

“Good morning, my love.” Aemond’s lips find Aemmia’s cheek.

“It’s a bit early to tell.” The brunette leans neither toward nor away from him.

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “If there is to be an issue, it will not be by my hand. We’ve done alright so far.”

“Because the lot of us have not yet been in close quarters. I personally believe this to be a mistake, but my mother will hear none of it.”

“Do you find your own mother vexing at times?” The thought has never occurred to him. Y/N is beloved, by Viserys, Rhaenyra, her husband and all the realm.

“But of course, she is my mother.”

The remark is so very…human, it sends Aemond for a loop. “Your mother loves you deeply.”

“As I love her. One does not cancel out the other.” Aemmia laughs it off. “In truth she is wonderful, there is nothing she would not do for me. I shouldn’t say such things.”

“It’s alright,” Aemond assures her. “I do understand, after all I have a rather opinionated mother of my own.”

“The queen is surely that.”

———————————🌱————————————-

“But, father,” Rhaelys whines, “I am old enough to join the dinner table with all of you.”

Harwin sighs, hoisting her into his arms. “Come, my love. I will bring you to Joffrey, you will be dining together with the twins.”

“My presence would please the King.” The little girl insists, squishing her father’s face in her hands.

“Oh, I have no doubt.” Harwin chuckles. Viserys loves her.

“Father…”

“Yes, Rhaelys?” It is hard to look at his youngest daughter and not see Y/N. She gets away with far too much as a result.

“Why do the older children make fun of Jace and Luc?”

“What children?”

Rhaelys shrugs, looking down at the ground as Harwin walks.

“Whatever you have heard…” Harwin pauses to gather himself. “It shouldn’t be said and it must not be repeated. For the sake of your mother, aunt Rhaenyra and your cousins Jacaerys and Lucerys.”

Rhaelys nods, “I understand.”

“When you are grown, you will know all the secrets of the world. All that I have learned and all that you will learn after me, but you need not rush growing older. It will happen fast enough. Sometimes it is easier not knowing.”

Y/N spots her husband carrying Rhaelys down the corridor.

Rhaelys peeks over at her mother with a smile, reaching a hand toward her.

The Princess catches up, to take her daughter’s hand over Harwin’s shoulder.

“You look so pretty, Mama.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. As do you.”

“Do you think I could sit with you for just a little while?”

“Five minutes?” Harwin turns to his wife. “Surely they will allow her five minutes.”

“Joffrey and the twins do not get five minutes.” Y/N points out, stroking her daughter’s white curls. “We must be fair-”

“And firm.” Rhaelys finishes for her. “I know.” She pouts.

“I will come for you straight after, hmm? And I shall read your bedtime story tonight.” Harwin tells her.

Rhaelys nods, carrying her grudge to the dining table and after they have long left the room.

Harwin offers his wife his arm.

Y/N takes it, “that child has you by the neck.”

“I’ve no idea what you mean.” Harwin replies, the corners of his mouth tugging upward.

Y/N butts his shoulder with her own.

“Princess!” Harwin gasps, in mock outrage, before returning the gesture.

They carry on down to the dining hall. Bringing their soft laughter to an end, ready for duty.

“Aunt Y/N,” Lucerys calls, stopping her at the door. “Might I have a word?”

“Of course.” Y/N reaches out to squeeze her nephew’s arm. “Save me a seat, will you?” She turns to Harwin.

“As you wish.” Harwin nods, leaving the two of them to speak.

“Lucerys?” Y/N steps to the side of the entryway, so that no one might be bothered by their conversing.

“I have been thinking, about Vaemond. What he said during the petition. I have long since accepted that I…may be all of those things.” A bastard. A Strong. “But in a world where everyone treated me differently; debated my parentage, you never did. Even though you know the truth in your heart, same as I do. You never stopped fighting for me, advocating for me. The love you hath given me is second to only that of my mother. Your hand has secured me the Driftmark throne. Though I am not worthy, thank you for believing in me. On my honor, you will not regret it.”

“Luc,” Y/N shakes her head. “I could never regret it. In my years with your father, Laenor, I came to know him very well. He was a dear friend to me and I know this is what he wanted. And beyond that, you are a good boy, Lucerys. I have held you and your brothers in my heart as dearly as my own children. I am so proud of the man you are becoming and I await the day I see you seated as Lord of the Tides. You are worthy. You need not thank me.”

He pauses for a moment, blinking at her, then slowly puts his arms around her. “I love you…and thank you, anyway.”

Y/N returns the embrace, smoothing down his dark hair; the same as her own children. “I love you more. You are welcome, now and forever.”

———————————🌱————————————-

“It fills me with both joy and anguish, to see these faces gathered round the table. The people I hold most dear in all the world, grown so distant from each other. But, there is new hope. With Aemmia and Aemond’s union, our houses might stand together once more. It is time to put aside your differences, if not for yourselves, then for the sake of this old man.” Viserys draws in a breath, looking between his children, grandchildren and wife. “Who loves you all so dearly.”

Rhaenyra is the first to stand. Raising her cup to her sister first, for taking care of their father and for the undying love she has shown her. “After the death of our mother, it was you who cried with me, you who comforted me on every sleepless night. My sister, you are better than I deserve. In light of our recent separation, I hope we can become as close as we once were.“

Y/N shoots her a watery smile, “I raise my cup to you, little sister. You have been my guiding light, each time I wish to give in, I think of you. I think of our mother and her dying wish. That I always look out for you, protect you, prepare you for this world and shield you from it. I have no doubt we will mend this rift between us.”

Rhaenyra returns her smile. “I would also like to lift my glass to the Queen. I love my father, but no one has stood by him like his good wife. To you and your continued good health.”

“Your graciousness moves me, Princess.” Alicent says, truthfully. “We are both mothers and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. You will make a fine queen.”

Aemond huffs a laugh.

Aemmia shooting daggers at her husband.

Aemond says not a word, taking his wife’s hand and pressing his lips to the back of it.

She rolls her dark eyes at the display.

Aegon and Jace are also going at it, quietly down the line.

When Jacaerys has had enough he moves to stand.

Aemond follows suit, watching him intently. Ignoring Aemmia’s hushed protests and tugging at his wrist.

“Here we go.” Y/N murmurs to Harwin.

He claps her on the back once. “Here we go.”

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond,” Jace begins, “though we have not seen each other in years, I have fond memories of our shared childhood. I hope in years to come, that we may be friends and allies.”

“That’s a boy,” Viserys nods.

They all drink to that.

“I would like to toast, Baela and Rhaena.” Halaena is next, “they are to be married soon. It’s not so bad, mostly he just ignores you. Except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

Aemond bursts out at this, Aemmia choking on her wine. Aegon opens his mouth in shock, though no words will come.

“Good,” Otto mouths at his granddaughter, as she sits with a proud smile.

“Let us have some music.” The King says, sparing them from anymore unwanted details of Aegon and Helaena’s marriage woes.

The children begin breaking off in pairs. Aemond and Aemmia, Jace and Helaena.

Viserys watches them in wonder. Y/N scoots her chair closer to Harwin to give her father a better view. But he can still find her there, the silhouette of her face. Changed so from a babe, to a child, to a woman. And that of Rhaenyra, only a year behind, both of them grown with families of their own.

A mix of light and dark hair swirls about, in a myriad of laughter, love. With Alicent by his side, his family all together. He is whole. The prospect moves him to tears. To have all he’s ever dreamed of, right at the bitter end. Viserys wishes he had more time to enjoy it. More time with all of them.

“Guards,” Alicent waves them over. It is time for her husband to retire.

———————————🌱————————————-

“Aemma.” Viserys chokes out.

“It’s me, father. It’s Y/N.” She reminds him, his chamber is dimly lit.

“Forgive me,” he apologizes, “you look so like your mother.”

Y/N reaches over to take his hand, “she was more beautiful than I.”

“Do you remember when you were a girl? The promise I made to you and you to me? The song of ice and fire.”

“Shh,” Y/N hushes him.

“Aegon’s dream. Tis true. You are the one, you made it so. Rhaenyra’s son. From my blood will come the prince that is promised. Aegon, little Aegon. Guide him as you have guided your sister, as I have guided you.” He gasps for breath.

“I remember,” Y/N assures him.

“I longed to do so much more.”

“Father, this is your legacy. All of us together. You have done plenty. I know it means the world to you, as you mean the world to me. I will do everything in my power to honor and keep the connections you have built.”

“My first born child. You can mend our house whole, if you wish it.” Viserys rambles on. “When I am gone, do not to mourn me so. Know in your heart that my only regret stays the inability to witness you stand tall as hand to your sister, the Queen.”

Y/N lowers her head, blinking back tears. “I cannot help but mourn you, Father. No one will love me as you have.”

And if she knew those words to be the last she’d ever speak to her father, Y/N would not change them.

Part VII

Taglist @evyiione @giulia2372 @bubblebuttwade @hotd-fanfic @leoramage @hyperfiaxed-freak

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

YOU. I LOVE IT EVERY BIT OF IT. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE ITTTT ALSO IF CAN YOU MAKE A PART TWO IF YOU CAN??? ITS OKAY IF U DONT WANNA. MUAH MUAH TO YOU AND THAT ANON��️‼️‼️‼️💗💗💗💗

THANK YOU SO MUCH, @raaaaaaahornetstinger! Here is the Part 2! I am so glad that you love Part 1! And, let's be honest, the oneshot would not have existed if not for the Anon and the headcanons XD Hope you enjoy this one!

Key Information: There is a time skip gape from Part 1 and Part 2. Part 2 is in Reader's POV, and it will begin with the Reader asleep, after the incident with Nahida and Venti. Reader does not know about Nahida and Venti's punishment given by the Imposter.

Click Me to Read Part 1!

𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞.

Warnings: Bad Grammar, Spelling Mistakes, Not Beta Read, OOC Characters, Implications of Violence, & Mind Control/Mind Manipulation.

Read if you are okay with these terms. Please also let me know if I missed a warning!

— — —

"MX. Y/N!!!" A child screams, running into my view. I don't remember the child's name, but I know who they are. They are familiar. They are someone from a village.

They grow up to be the next Blacksmith of the village, after their father.

They grow up and marry the whole-hearted, girl that would be a strong woman, working in their farm, selling their crops to make a living.

They become prosperous in their village, and make their friends and family proud.

It hasn't happened yet, but I know it would happen. Every child born in Teyvat, no matter who their parents are, I am their "Prime Parent," as the child would say as a joke. They are all my children-in-spirit.

I smile down at the child. "What is it, Little One?" I ask in a gentle tone, crouching down to get to their level. "What exciting adventure happened today?"

"Mx. Y/N! The Village Chief told me to bring you to our village!" the child replies happily, grasping one of my hands. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!" They bounce up and down from their excitement. I chuckle at the child's antics, but I relent. Who could deny a child as adorable as this, anyways?

The path to the village was a fast blur, and all of a sudden, I am swarmed around by villagers, happily greeting me and hugging me, smiling and offering me trinkets and goods they have prepared for my arrival. I smile and wave, kindly accepting one or two things from each villager.

It was amazing.

It was lively. It felt like home.

"Happy Birthday to our Honorable and Forever Humble Guest!" The Village Chief shouts, raising his glass.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

—

I wake up, gasping.

Oh. Another one of those dreams again. Past memories of me being this "creator." Hah, how bittersweet. It seems like nobody can tell the difference, not even this world—Teyvat! If Teyvat doesn't even recognize me, how the heck will I ever survive this hunt?

More importantly, how the heck does someone break the mind control the Imposter has over everyone?

I sigh, finally getting my breathing under control. These questions will have to wait for another day—I still don't know much about it. It's not everyday you read a sagau fanfic about the Imposter being a smartass. It's even more rare to hear about mind control! What was this, the Zombie Apocalypse?

I sigh again, sitting up from the grass I was laying down on. Like usual, my clothes were a mess. But there was not time to dwell on that. I get up from where I slept—under a big tree—and begin to walk cautiously through the area.

I need to find a way to enter Inazuma, to get to the Statue of Seven. Surprisingly, getting dendro was a whole lot faster than getting Electro. Mainly because Inazuma is an island.

While I could just use anemo to fly across the sea, there is only one issue: my anemo powers are much stronger if I stay in Mondstadt, and no where else.

Building a bridge made of geo to Inazuma? It'll probably die a quarter way there, honestly. And there's no way in the hell would dendro be of use in this situation—unless you count walking on kelp and seaweed to be an option (probably still unlikely though).

I sigh again, exhausted. This was going to be so difficult than I thought it would be.

If only I could just use waypoints like the Traveler!

As I continue to walk, I begin to wonder what real purpose there is for my existence here. Sure, I'm the creator and all, cool, amazing, but what am I suppose to do when literally everyone I ever care and love and simp for decides to throw me out the window, willing to rip my guts open because my Imposter called me the imposter?

At this rate, now knowing that the imposter is smart and can literally mind control people, I'm starting to lose hope. After all, how was I suppose to defeat a tyrant all by myself?

I sigh again, this time more frustrated. I kicked the dirt beneath my feet. So annoying—my hope leaving me, my courage turning into fear and leaving me begging for my life...

If only I could do something about it all...

Wait a minute.

The dream I had earlier. The village. Where was it? Where did it originate from? All the details I remember...the child, becoming a blacksmith, the child's wife...a birthday surprise, a banquet...

What did all of this add up to? There had to be a meaning behind it, just like all of the other ones I've been getting every time I get some shut eye.

I hide behind the nearest thing closest to me—a tree—as I hear footsteps. I continue to think. I closed my eyes, concentrating. Where was that village...

Oh. Oh, I am such an idiot. That village.

It was where Khaenri'ah used to stand, before Khaenri'ah even stood. I don't know how I know, but I do. I know where it is. I guess it's some sort of gut feeling.

Time to look through the Abyss, I guess..? But how do I even get there in the first place? And, more importantly, would the Abyss Order attack me on sight? (They probably will, I mean, who am I kidding? They probably loathe the Creator anyways for what they've become.)

Well, one way to find out, I guess. No hope left, but this was a lead onto something. And it's better to try than to give up, right? Besides, who else would if I didn't?

I wait for the rest of the footsteps to fade, before bolting to the location that I have engraved in my mind. I will not be dying today, nor ever. That much, I will bring with me.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒏𝒅.

Ghost Rebel Side Note: I don't think this one was as good as Part 1. To this, I apologize 😭 I am so sorry for making this a lower quality than the previous part! It honestly feels so rushed—I'm so sorry 😭 My motivation ran dry.

Will I make a Part 3 for this? Maybe, but it will take some time—motivation comes in sparks and it lights a fire before it disappears once it finds no more roots to burn :')

Also, since I'm at it...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR a) 4000+ LIKES AND b) 100 FOLLOWERS! Y'all are great, I swear 😭

Check the Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open!

[idolatrybarbie]

lover, be sweet masterlist

pairing: marcus pike x fem!reader

word count & rating: 1.8k | explicit - minor free zone!

summary: cuddles. guilt. the sensual caressing of plucked poultry. they don't make Pepto-Bismol for shame, do they?

warnings: references to and discussion of sex - hence the explicit rating, depression, loneliness, guilt & shame, angst, dissociation, citizen kane (1941) dir. orson welles, a few lighthearted moments but don't get your hopes up people, reader is described as slightly shorter than/the same height as marcus, very dramatic metaphors, very lightly edited, bea regresses to using writing as therapy again.

notes: hi - i am sad. this is a fic about me being sad. if you read it you might be able to figure out why i'm sad. i don't love creating from a place of sadness anymore but i am sick of talking about it to people that care about me and my girlfriend marcus pike is, like, right there. so this is me being sad. i am going to try to not write a fic like this again (sad for the fact that i am sad.) we'll see how successful that mission is. we out here.

It’s you who brings up the ‘M’ word. Well, two words: moving in. They come out of your mouth haphazardly one night. A long night of dinner and drinks with wonderful sex after.

It’s been six months. The question, what if me staying over was more…permanent? Marcus is silent for about thirty seconds before he simply kisses you, asking if he needs to start bringing boxes home from work. This is what makes you recoil emotionally, shaking your head as you say you’ve had too much wine. You fall asleep in his arms with your heart pounding and cold.

How are you supposed to tell Marcus that the last time you lived with someone you knew, it ended disastrously? Not just a shit roommate—lives ruined, emotional wounds that never quite healed. A friendship of almost a decade down the drain because the one person you trusted in the world couldn’t grow out of the role they’d locked themselves in. How do you tell him that your family only started treating you right when you moved hours away, that you need an allotted amount of time alone lest you turn into the worst person alive?

You’re over here three out of five nights of his work week. Marcus is the one person in the world you seem to never be able to get enough of. And yet you can’t help that lingering instinct, a stutter in your gut that births a brood of unwanted doubts and insecurities. You live alone. You like it like that. Liked it like that, maybe.

You’d like to move your dishes into the cabinet downstairs—the chipped set of Corelle that Marcus has eaten off of all but once, telling you the plates reminded him of the ones his mother had in Chile. You’d like to wake up with fresh underwear after showers with the man you love only a drawer pull away; his sheets to become your sheets, and yours his. Bender doesn’t like your couch as much as Marcus’ and you’ve been meaning to sell it anyway. 

There is a life that could be lived here. A future within these red walls. But you won’t risk it. You will not make that mistake again. Some things are not meant to be shared, and maybe this is one of them. Better to be in solitude half the time with him than isolated all the time without.

But all this stays in the background. Marcus doesn’t bring it up again, doesn’t push. Part of you assumes that he’s forgotten—he drank a lot of wine that night too. Or perhaps he assumes your life has had enough change for a little while. The new job and all that comes with it.

After months of unemployment and steadily weaning yourself off of babysitting other people’s pets, you’ve found one. It’s not much—the pay or the pleasure in doing it—but it is something. You wake up at seven o’clock to be ready for eight and out of the house by quarter past. The drive to D.C. is busy, an increasingly miserable twenty-seven minute commute that everyone on the road slogs through together.

Marcus is happy for you. He’s happy you leave the house for some other reason than to visit him, and he likes to hear about your work day. The people are fine, nice even, and you tell him that. Neither he nor they can stave off the low mood that takes hold of you with every coming cold season, but you try not to focus on that.

Marcus is aware, but he doesn’t bring it up beyond a simple question of how you’re feeling sometimes. He gets warmer as the world outside does the opposite, softening beyond what you thought possible. Your boyfriend is a sourdough starter, not that you’re complaining. The sex you have is sweet and slow. Lovemaking might be the only appropriate turn of phrase. He can’t seem to stop saying it—the ‘L’ word—every time he’s inside of you.

Your dreams are an odd combination of the Palace of Versailles and Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane. A spotlight, a projector. The many versions of yourself, all of whom Marcus loves. The many versions of yourself, most of which you do not.

Mirrors. Lots of them. You’re grateful now when the shower steam makes the glass in Marcus’ bathroom sweat, sparing you from looking into another one. Being so walled off feels like lying to him. You can’t help it. Maybe it’s the intimacy of telling Marcus that’s getting to you. Might it be easier to stand at a pulpit and do a speech on how you feel? Direct. Factual even if the words aren’t confident.

Some Thursday night, three weeks after the ‘M’ word, you pull your car into the driveway beside your house…and sit. Headlights on, engine idle. Right now is the perfect time to freeze and stare out at the dust settled over the dashboard. You only move when knuckles rap on your window. Marcus, of course. His breath is as warm as his soul, fogging up the dirty glass.

You turn the car off, pulling the key from the ignition. He opens the door for you when you make a move to grab your bag.

“Hey,” he says. His voice is already laced with concern.

“Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah. Just…thinking.”

Marcus glances at the empty driver’s seat. “In the car…with the engine running?”

“Got home a few minutes ago,” you say. You don’t know how long it’s been.

Marcus senses your fragile footing, redirecting the conversation. “Do you want to come over tonight?”

“I don’t know,” you say. The words are highlighted by a puff of white past your lips. “Been a long day.”

“I’m making roast chicken,” Marcus says, trying to entice you. “We can lay on the couch. I’ll give you a foot massage.” When he sees you aren’t biting, he adds, “We can watch Pacific Rim. Again.”

You smile as the slightest bit of fire sparks in your chest. “You’ve got a deal.”

Marcus waits at the front door as you collect Bender from your living room. Then he leads the way across the street, unlocking his own door and letting you in first. The cat in your arms leaps gracefully away, ready to find a new spot to nuzzle into.

After a hot shower alone, you feel more like a person. No length of time spent under the water is going to get rid of the guilt masquerading as hunger pains, though. Marcus is already working on dinner when you make your way downstairs. His waist apron hangs over his hips, crimson to match everything else; a thoughtless purchase on your part except for the mental image of him wearing it with that adorably taut face he makes when focusing.

Seeing that exact expression now as Marcus rubs margarine over the plucked, pink body of a whole chicken makes you laugh a little. He looks up at you, hearing the noise, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“You like what you see?” Marcus waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“The sensual caressing of dead poultry?”

He makes a face. “When you put it like that…”

“I speak the truth, the whole truth—”

“And nothing but the truth. You forget that you’re dating a man of the law, y’know.”

“How could I forget?” you ask, coming up behind him. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you peer over the side of Marcus’ arm to watch him season the chicken with various spices on the counter. “You’re always here to protect me.”

“I’m glad you know that,” he says. “And I really mean always.”

Marcus can’t see the look of curious confusion that crosses your face. “Of course,” you mumble into his shoulder.

The chicken is placed on a baking pan lined with tinfoil before it disappears into the oven. Marcus washes his hands thoroughly, tossing everything into a sink of hot and soapy water before he finally embraces you. His hugs are a godsend. You melt into his arms and let yourself be held. Then, another twist of your organs. The feeling plagues you like heartburn, showing up at the worst of times. They don’t make Pepto-Bismol for shame, do they?

Marcus must feel you tense up, because he asks, “Alright. What’s wrong?”

Pulling back from the hug, he stares at you—the heat of a thousand carefully probing suns.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say. Clearly he doesn’t buy it, taking in the way your eyes are starting to water like the Potomac.

“Well that’s just not true. Honey, please just… I want to help you.”

“I can’t move in with you,” you whisper. The first tear falls when you blink, a warm trail falling slowly down your cheek.

Marcus tilts his head. “What?”

“I can’t move in with you,” you repeat a little louder. “I’m not—I can’t.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “If you’re not ready—”

“It’s not about being ready,” you say, pulling yourself from his grasp. “It’s about…I don’t know. I love you. And that’s huge, and the last time I lived with someone I loved it ruined my life. I can’t do that with this. With us. I won’t.”

Marcus gently calls your name as you turn away from him, hands steady against the granite countertop. You can’t look at him. You’ve told the man you love that you can’t take the next step of further knitting your lives together. Of starting anew as a pair. There is no timeline to feed him. No amount of months given will tide him over because there's no expiry date on this feeling of yours. It simply is; there was a time before it existed, but you’re almost certain there will be no after.

That crawling specter of loneliness hasn’t haunted you for six whole months, and you would like to keep it that way. Even if the knowledge that you’re missing minute details about Marcus in your time across the street kills you the slightest bit; even if you want to show him that you’re all in on this, what your boyfriend doesn’t know is that you are a nuclear reactor. The disaster happened a long time ago, but the ground is still poisoned. The air is teeming with radiation even if he’s been slowly sipping the water.

You say, “I don’t know when I’m going to be ready.” Not now, if ever. Breaking your own goddamn heart.

“That’s okay,” Marcus says. “There’s no rush on it. You could take a million years. I’m still going to be here.” He takes you back into his arms, cradling your head against his body.

This doesn’t fix anything—doesn’t fix you, but you don’t want Marcus to do that anyway. For now, this works. Right now this is okay.

[tryslora]

Nate vs. the Edits

I have a ton of posts partially written, and this particular one will probably touch on some of those themes. Particularly the concept of time (and how little of it there is in a week).

So. Apologies in advance for that. I have swiss cheese brain. I might not even remember if I’m repeating myself. Maybe y’all will forgive me, or maybe not. I figure readers are happy enough to click next/close and move on. <3

The topic I’m thinking about today is how editing and drafting can be inherently antagonistic.

It’s no secret that I owe multiple books right now. I have two that need to be drafted: the next in the Seven Lakes series, so my indie publishing life doesn’t fail before it gets off the ground, and the next Welcome to PHU book, otherwise known as Nate’s book, which uh… I should’ve started drafting two years ago.

It’s also no secret that I am working with Duck Prints Press to bring out paperback editions of the PHU books, starting with the Twinned trilogy. Commit to the Kick is already in print through DPP, and the second and third books are in progress. We’ll Kickstart print editions once they are edited and ready to roll.

Editing is… hard. I mean, it’s probably hard for everyone, but it’s really hard for me because it is one of my mental breaking points. My brain assumes that when something is drafted, it’s done, and making big changes (or even small changes that have big effects) is hard for me to do. I am more than willing to admit to this fault.

It means that when my brain goes into edit mode, drafting mode goes POOF and disappears. And well, vice versa.

Over the last year, I’ve done a lot of work in learning how to edit, and I’ve gotten better at it. I did a first round edit of Into the Split to handle some large issues before DPP starts working on it. I did a big overhaul of a short story and turned it into a much better version of itself that I could submit to a market. But during that time, I couldn’t draft.

Part of that was time being a finite commodity, and part of it was that editing makes me overthink everything. And for Nate’s book in particular, there is a lot to overthink.

Nate’s book (Run Together, or RT in acronym form) is a book where it would be very easy, and possibly even a good idea, to have multiple narrators. While I had considered it briefly for Pels’s book (Not Your Guardian Angel), in the end, that one was a stronger book for being a single POV. This one I can see all the ways that having all three characters allowed to speak could make it stronger. Cass internalizes so much. And Dax… we’ve hardly gotten to see into his head at all in the PHU ‘verse so far. We know about how he handles his Talent, and that he’s a football stats vending machine. But seeing into his emotional side would be nice, especially considering the things he needs to work through during this storyline.

Every time I started working on the book, I thought about all the pieces that had been broken in ITS and needed to be fixed, and I stalled. I couldn’t wrap my head around the best way to tell the story.

I dubbed this problem “Nate vs. the Edits” in my head, which seemed like a decent title for a bout going multiple rounds in my brain with heavy fighting and damage. Like. Yikes.

Editing makes me analytical, and drafting requires me to shove my analytical parts into the background, letting the foreground take inspiration without failing under the anxiety of the details.

I have always trusted my subconscious when drafting. I have a brain like swiss cheese—I can’t hold details in my mind on purpose, but if I trust them to be there (like programming to a base case for recursion—yes, I know this makes no sense to anyone but me) the story works. I can recall things if I don’t try to recall. Trust my subconscious to fill in the blanks.

Right now, I have “outlined” the first maybe… quarter? third? of Nate’s book. I split a few of my pieces of the timeline into enough information to be able to draft three chapters. Except I feel like they aren’t quite right. The pacing is off.

I’ve lost the ability to write for the joy of writing the serial, for the joy of rolling around in drafting fic about the characters who live in my head. Or, I haven’t lost it… not completely. But I’m struggling with it, and yes, continuing to second guess myself. I’ve become my own gatekeeper, constantly concerned about whether I’m doing it right.

Ironically enough, this also affects editing. I haven’t opened the file for MF that I received a couple of weeks ago because I’m a bit afraid of what I’ll see. Like. They are edits and there are already notes in there that I just have to either agree with, reject, or find a different way to do it. Easy peasy, right?

HAH.

Instead, I’ve decided to use blog posts as my palette cleanser. I’ve spent the last half hour after work accomplishing nothing more than eating dinner and reading half a volume of manga. I know I need to write something so here I am, putting words on a page in hopes that it breaks the fiction loose.

Nate’s rattling around in here somewhere. So is Adam (for the 7Lakes book). They are ready to roll. It’s me that’s stalling.

A part of me thinks that when I’m retired, it’ll be easier. Mornings for drafting and afternoons for editing, or vice versa. Chores as palette cleansers between tasks. I hope that turns out to be true.

But for the moment, I’m squeezing in writing and editing like a teenager hiding my viewing of racy videos—hiding in a closed office for thirty minutes and praying I can get to the end before the time is up. Stealing away and closeting myself with my tablet, spewing words onto the keyboard, spilling my mind like blood from a wound.

/exhales

Yeah. I’m full of weird analogies. 

I know that there’s no secret to this. Yes, we all believe that we have a muse when we write, but we also have to put in the work. Editing is work. The paralyzation comes with the territory, and it means I’m learning. I am discovering what I’m doing wrong (and right!) and I need to internalize it.

No magic formula, just… patience. Doing it anyway. Pushing through.

If I have to edit and re-edit the first chapters of RT, it’s okay. It’s a serial, but I always try to get 4-8 chapters in before I start posting. I have time to fix things.

And somewhere, somehow, I have to do the editing for MF, too.

Two entirely different parts of my personality vying for what little time we have.

Best let them get to it, then, huh?

Want to support me? -- Patreon | Ko-Fi | Reblog & Comment

Want to hear more from me? — Join my mailing list

[starry-eyed-extraterrestrial]

So I said I had a one shot in mind for if Nikki didn't make his usual Mick birthday tweet, and it's already quite late so I don't think it's happening (late in America anyway, over here it's already seven am the next day) so here's that angst fic I promised.

It's six thirty when Mick finally decides to open twitter. He's just had cake with Seriana that she made herself along with his favourite kind of pasta and earlier that same day they'd gone out on a bit of a nature walk together, no real words shared between them just comfortable silence and the enjoyment of each other's company. And now, with his love in the kitchen washing the dishes,it was time to look through all the birthday wishes he'd gotten on social media today and thank everyone for taking time out of their day to think about him and congratulate him on becoming even more ancient then he already was.

He squints his eyes then adjusts his glasses on his face and pulls his iPad off the dining room table and closer to his face to actually be able to read what the people said. Shit, he probably needed to renew his glasses soon and get a stronger lens. Besides that little annoyance, the birthday wishes make him very happy and he can't help the smile that slips onto his face at the sheer amount of people who care about an old fossil like him.

After looking through most of the messages and posts Mick gets his keyboard out and ready to make a tweet of his own. He types the message out using two fingers and posts it right away.

“Thank you everybody for the happy birthday luv. Also many many thank you's for liking my solo stuff as well. 

Peace and love back to all of you👽”

He feels so glad in this moment and leans back in his chair to  just take a second to appreciate everything he has and everything he's accomplished.

The easy smile is wiped from his face however when a tiny intrusive thought slips into his mind. He looks down at his tablet again. Should he look…

No, it was stupid Nikki would have tagged him like he does every year when he wishes him happy birthday and since he didn't see Nikki's post between any of the other birthday posts and messages he knows he's not getting one this year. Or likely any year after this with how pissed Nikki is at him.

Mick and Nikki are the same in a lot of ways, but in one place they differ. Mick gets over things quickly and Nikki may forgive but he never forgets. So it's safe to say that the years of Nikki's annual birthday posts for him are just lost to time forever. 

That thought makes him.. uncomfortable is the only way he can describe it, not sad exactly, he'd known what he was getting himself into with the lawsuit in the first place,he just feels kinda weird about the whole situation. 

Does this mean he shouldn't wish him a happy birthday this year either- would it be weird now? Would his birthday wish to Nikki feel more like a birthday wish from a stranger to him? Mick contemplates this, but not for very long as he pulls his tablet closer to his face again.

Just to be safe, Mick searches Nikki's name in the spacebar, he's typing a lot slower then he usually would, he knows that it's because he doesn't want to see. Doesn't want to confirm that their relationship is so frayed that Nikki can't even wish him happy birthday online, nevermind to his face by FaceTiming him for a minute.

He doesn't want to know that he and Nikki will most likely never be close again and that their relationship will most likely never return to even a quarter of what it was, even if they did make up. He and Nikki would become like Tommy and Vince, the two of them best friends at some point only to years later only really speak to each other for business reasons and in interviews to save face in public. He didn't want that for him and Nikki, but if it had to be so then…he supposes it has to be so. He's certainly not gonna go crawling back to Nikki and apologise for something he's not even in the wrong for.

When Mick finally opens Nikki's page, he's not surprised to see no mention of him and he suddenly feels very stupid for thinking that there would be any message waiting for him at all. He's suing them for Christ sake, Nikki's hardly gonna jump at the chance to even think about him let alone wish him a happy birthday. 

Mick decides that that's enough internet for him for one day. He sets the tablet down on the table and suddenly feels quite out of sorts. He then feels two warm arms wrap around his shoulders.

“Hey baby, what's wrong?” Seriana whispered in his ear, making chills go up his spine. He feels better almost instantly.

“Nothing now that you're here” he says and he knows it's cheesy and he can feel serianna roll her eyes in amusement at his half joke.

The rest of the night Mick doesn't even think about it. Why should he?There's nothing he can physically do to change the outcome he just received, it's his own fault that it's like this anyway, so why complain really. 

But later that night when he's in bed and midnight rolled around, he was up staring at the ceiling, letting the knowledge that he and Nikki weren't friends anymore sink in and when it does all he can think about is how he probably shouldn't send a birthday wish to Nikki on his birthday. 

He knows Nikki doesn't like it when strangers get his number and message him.

[debbiechanclub]

Hit Me Like Bang (and Now I'm Never Looking Back), Part 2

A "Take My Hands, Wreck My Plans" fic

Pairings: David Finlay x OFC / past!Jay White x OFC Word Count: 11k Warnings: Language; alcohol use; radioactive levels of angst but also fluff; and a little smidge of smut so 18+

On the road to Dominion, Nellie's past and present converge to solidify the truth of what's been in front of her all along.

TMHWMP Timeline | Masterlist

Read it on AO3

A/N: Herein is the end of Nellie's story, and I am emotional :') Don't worry―there are more prequels forthcoming that will go more into her previous relationships and how she got here, but this is her happy ending.

One small note: there's quite a bit of flashback scenes in this chapter, and they're not in chronological order to each other, so pay attention to the dates. That said, this fic and Nellie truly are my baby, and thank you for coming on this two-plus-year journey with me. I hope you enjoy reading her story just as much as I've enjoyed creating it for you <3

tags: @aussiearrow @cowboyslariat @knifepervert @sldghmmr @cardblade @missbrownstone @meteora-fc @bec0m @thatgirlforever5 @rocca09 @aussiespam

Friday, April 14, 2023 Tokyo, Japan

It took about seven minutes bell-to-bell for Nellie to dispose of Mariah May in their title match at Korakuen Hall. She hadn’t even broken a sweat. But she’d anticipated short work. She’d already planned to make up for it in her backstage comments.

“Alright, I’ll make sure this is short and sweet just like that match,” she started as she stepped in front of the camera. “Do you see this title?” She held up the championship in her hand. “I have been the SWA World Champion since May fifth of last year. Twenty-twenty-two. That is three hundred and forty-five days, just twenty days short of an entire year. And no one here at World Wonder Ring Stardom seems to give a shit about it, or the verifiable fact that I am the only person in history to hold this title more than once!

“But here’s the thing: I know exactly why they don’t care. Because I’m a gaijin. Never mind that I’ve been dedicated to this company since twenty-eighteen; that I’ve lived in Japan for over three years, through a fucking pandemic; that I’ve learned the language. Apparently, none of that matters, because I’m still not from here. I’m still an outsider. And God forbid a gaijin become the face of Stardom, so what do they do? They hold me in place with this title that they clearly don’t give a shit about and allow me to defend it once a quarter. And Mariah May?” She scoffed. “Do you know how many times I’ve already beaten Mariah in title matches? Tonight makes three, and the other two were in her home country for the RevPro Undisputed British Women’s Championship. So please, someone enlighten me: if Mariah May couldn’t get it done against me in her home country, why the fuck did anyone think she stood a chance against me here, in Korakuen of all places? I might be from Philly, but Tokyo is my home. Stardom is my home. The Stardom dojo beat me down, built me back up, and turned me into the joshi I am today, and in return I made history. And I refuse to be held in place any longer.

“Saya Kamitani. You’ve made history, too. We have history. Because see, everyone associates you with Hayashishita-san and me with Torrance—but you and I were partners first. We were Goddess of Stardom champions together. We’re both champions now. And at All Star Grand Queendom, I want you in a winner takes all match for my SWA World Championship, and your Wonder of Stardom Championship. And it’ll be a gaijin from Philadelphia who puts an end to your history-making reign.”

And with that she walked off camera, the gauntlet thrown.

* * * *

Sunday, October 30, 2022 Tokyo, Japan

Nellie was in good spirits. She was fresh off defending her SWA World Championship against Mayu Iwatani in New York City. Halloween was tomorrow, and David had come over for a horror movie marathon. He’d brought takeout from her favorite sushi place and a six-pack of Sapporo. She intended to tell him how she felt. And she couldn’t have been more nervous.

“Is everything alright?” he casually asked. “It seems like something’s on your mind.”

She brought her feet up to sit cross-legged on the couch and pulled her soft checkered fleece blanket over her lap. Of course he could tell something was on her mind—it was David. He paid attention. He was perceptive; emotionally mature. It was one of the many, many things that drew her to him, something that set him apart from most guys she’d been involved with in the past. And now, after her few days away, she knew for certain.

“Yeah… I, um,” she started. “I just guess I realized something when I was in New York.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Well,” she stalled, nervous. But there was no turning back now—and she didn’t want to. “I went out with a few people after the show, and… Kyle Fletcher kissed me. But all it did was make me realize that I have feelings for someone else.”

David wasn’t looking at her as she said it, queuing up the first movie on her TV. And Nellie quickly started to overthink, worried that maybe he’d focus on the fact that Kyle had kissed her and not what she was trying to tell him—

 But then the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Oh, yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?”

He glanced at her as he set down the remote. She pursed her lips at him. “Are you seriously gonna make me say it?”

“I kind of want you to, yeah.”

She bit back a grin. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she worried he could hear it. “Well… I don’t know how he feels, so I’m kind of nervous to.”

“Well, let me clear things up for you, then…” David said, and he pulled her in and kissed her. Nellie melted into him. His lips were soft, his kiss slow and sweet, and the way he cradled her head in his hands felt natural, as if they’d done this a thousand times before. And she already knew she wanted to do it a thousand times more.

He pulled back from her lips but still held her close. “I’ve been wanting to do that for the last three months,” he said.

 She grinned. “You have?”

“Yeah. And since we’re talking about it… I wasn’t sure how you felt. Sometimes it seemed like you were still hung up on Jay.”

Nellie sighed and leaned back into the couch. Admittedly, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Honestly, at the start of the summer, I was still hung up on him. And I think it was because I never got any definite closure when we broke up, and so when he showed up out of nowhere at Dontaku it did feel like there was still something there between us. And he made it seem like there was, too, which didn’t help at all. But then you came back for the G1, and we reconnected, and genuinely—you’ve put in more effort over the last three months than Jay ever put into our entire relationship. And that really put things into perspective for me. But then it was complicated, too, because I know how close you and Jay used to be, and sometimes I worried that getting involved with you after him would look… I don’t know… messy? As stupid as that sounds.”

“No, I get it,” David nodded. “No matter how you and Jay left things, there was a point in time when you cared about him, so of course you wouldn’t want to throw salt in a wound. I mean, there was a point in time when I cared about him, too; he was my best friend. But it’s not like you and Jay just broke up, and he and I aren’t as close as we used to be, either.” He reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear; Nellie’s skin tingled at his touch. “Besides… technically I went out with you first, anyway.”

She mirrored his grin. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. David had gone out with her first, on an awkward date back in 2017, the first time Nellie had ever set foot in Japan. Back before she’d met Zack, or Riley, or Kyle, or ever gotten involved with Jay—David had been first. But she hadn’t seen it then.

“Not technically—you did,” she confirmed. “And lately I’ve wondered how different things would be if I’d given you a chance back then.”

“Nah,” he returned with a shake of his head. “I was a clown back then; I don’t blame you for not giving me a chance. Plus, I’ve come to believe that everything meaningful happens when it’s supposed to.” He smiled to himself. “I was actually planning on telling you how I felt tonight. But you beat me to it.”

Nellie’s smile widened. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah. So, I guess I owe Kyle Fletcher a beer for kissing you and helping you figure shit out.”

“Ha!” she laughed, and he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, and she snuggled into him, moving the blanket so that he was underneath it, too. It felt right—a perfect fit. And as David pressed play on the first movie, Nellie knew in her heart that this was when it was all supposed to fall into place, and not a moment sooner.

* * * *

“God, you are a sight for sore eyes.”

Nellie smiled at David through her phone screen. It was only a few days ago that he’d left, and he’d only be gone a few days more, working Capital Collision in Washington, D.C., and then Collision in Philadelphia before flying right back to Tokyo—to her. But Nellie already felt the ache of his absence.

“You have no idea how bad I wish you were here right now.” She settled back into her bed pillows, getting comfortable. “I have some pent-up energy that could really use working out.”

David grinned, crooked and handsome. It didn’t help her situation. “I know you do. I just watched your backstage comments.”

She waited, expecting him to say something more, wanting him to. After all, his opinion was the one that mattered most to her. “And?” she impatiently pressed.

“And it took everything in me not to share the video wherever I could,” he said. “I’m proud of you, babe. You already deserved that match; I don’t see how they can’t give it to you now.”

The ache in Nellie’s core deepened. But so did the warmth in her heart. “Thanks, babe. I’m hoping it’ll be official by tomorrow, but… we’ll see.”

“Do you have a match tomorrow?”

She laughed shortly to herself; the expression on her face said it all. “Yeah… a best two out of three falls eight-woman tag match. Me, Tam, Poi, and Mina against Donna del Mondo. It’s the main event.”

“Shit,” David commented before she’d even finished. “That’s gonna be charged.”

“Tell me about it,” she lowly returned. And then, “Thekla thinks I should take the opportunity to leave Cosmic Angels.”

“I was just about to say. It’s the perfect opportunity, isn’t it?”

She drew in a hesitant breath. “Potentially? Actually, if the Cosmic Angels-Club Venus shit finally hits the fan like I expect it to, it probably will be the perfect opportunity. I could just say they’re too dysfunctional and walk out. That’s exactly how I left Queen’s Quest.”

“Then I say do it,” David returned. “You’d be better served somewhere other than Cosmic Angels, I know you would. You know you would.”

“I do know I would,” she agreed. “I’m just… I don’t know. Worried about hurting people’s feelings even though I know I shouldn’t be.”

“Torrance will be fine,” David dismissed; it went without saying that she meant her. “She has Mariah and Mina.”

“No shit,” Nellie breathed. “They’re three peas in a pod these days. Which doesn’t really surprise me… Torr and Mariah are basically the same person in slightly different fonts.” David laughed at that. “Well, it’s true!” she doubled down.

“No, it is,” he nodded. “But I could always just say you’re Bullet Club, too. I’m sure that would get the point across to Tam.”

A grin spread over Nellie’s face. It felt inevitable that she would be Bullet Club, and sooner rather than later. But he’d reminded her. “Speaking of Bullet Club, are you gonna tell me who Riley’s replacement is yet?”

He smirked and shook his head. “No. That’s privileged information.”

Her eyebrows arched. “And I’m not privileged to it? I’m your girlfriend!”

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” he assured her. “Don’t worry—it’s someone you like. I can’t have anyone in Bullet Club who doesn’t get along with my girl.”

“Well, there’s some people you need to kick out, then,” she returned—just as she heard a knock-knock-knock on the front door of her apartment. She glanced toward the sound in confusion. David noticed.

“What?”

“Someone just knocked on my door.”

He looked confused then. “Isn’t it almost 10 p.m. there?” he asked. But Nellie was already pulling up the live feed from her video doorbell—and she saw a familiar figure.

“It’s Torr.” She sighed. Something told her she wasn’t just dropping by.

“I guess you should go, then,” David figured. Nellie’s brow furrowed.

“Probably. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he gently said. “I should probably get going myself, and you two are overdue for a talk.”

“Yeah… because I don’t want to have it,” she muttered.

David smirked. “Go, babe. I’ll talk to you later.”

She pouted. “Okay. See you soon,” she returned—and before they disconnected, she almost said it. I love you. She knew she did. But she wanted the first time she told him to be in person.

She left her phone in her bedroom and padded down the hall to the front door. She unlocked and opened it just as Torrance was getting ready to knock again. She quickly put her hand down, almost as if she was surprised Nellie had answered.

“Hey.” Torrance took in her appearance—pajamas on, makeup off. Her brow furrowed. “You weren’t in bed, were you?”

“Well, technically,” Nellie returned. “But I was talking with David.”

Torrance’s frown deepened. “Oh. I’m sorry, I should have texted—”

“No, it’s fine,” Nellie dismissed, and she opened the door wider so she could come inside. Torrance hesitated for a beat before she crossed the threshold. It was odd. They both had keys to each other’s apartments; it used to be that Torrance would just let herself in without so much as a knock. But a lot had changed over the last three months.

“What’s up?” Nellie asked as she shut the door. She noticed that Torrance was dressed for a night out in a shiny pink miniskirt and white bustier tank top, her hair and makeup done to perfection. And again, Torrance hesitated.

“Um, well,” she started with a bit of a nervous laugh. “I actually came over here to ask if you wanted to come out with us, but—”

“Who’s ‘us’?”

Torrance bit her lip. “Me, Mariah, and Mina.”

Nellie couldn’t help her laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

Torrance’s expression turned stony. “No, actually, I’m not.”

“Torr,” Nellie breathed out. “Come on. I literally just beat Mariah in a title match and then talked shit about her, you really think either of us want to hang out with each other?”

“Well, Mariah’s willing to put that aside because she knows you’re my best friend,” Torrance returned. She looked down at her hands. “And I feel like we’ve barely seen each other since… well, since the Triangle Derby started.”

So, since Club Venus became a thing, Nellie wanted to say. But she figured it wouldn’t help. “Because we haven’t,” she regretfully returned. “But it’s not intentional. You’ve just been doing your thing with Mariah and Mina, and I’ve been doing mine with Tam and Poi. Or I was. And I know I sort of went off into my own little world when David came back, so…”

Torrance looked back up at her. “Yeah, so are you and him…?”

“Together? Officially?” Nellie finished. “Yeah, we are,” she confirmed, and the mood lightened a bit. Torrance smiled.

“Took long enough.”

Nellie breathed a laugh. “I know. But I think it happened right when it was supposed to.”

“No, I think so, too,” Torrance agreed. “He’s good for you, I can tell. You’ve carried yourself differently ever since he came back; more confident.”

“Thanks,” Nellie genuinely returned. She’d noticed that change in herself, too. David was good for her. He was good to her. And she wasn’t the only one who’d changed. “You’ve been more confident with Club Venus, too.”

Torrance looked down again, the corners of her mouth turned up, almost as if she was bashful to hear that Nellie had noticed. “Yeah, they’ve really helped me come into my own. Mina really pushes me. And I don’t know… it just feels like we’re all on equal footing.”

Nellie nodded in understanding. “Unlike when we were a tag team?”

Torrance frowned again. “I wasn’t trying to imply—”

“No, I get it,” Nellie assured her. And she did get it. After she and Torrance had won the 2021 Goddesses of Stardom Tag League, throughout their entire reign as Goddess of Stardom Champions, people had said that Nellie carried Torrance. That Nellie was the better wrestler, that Torrance would never be champion without her. So, it was no wonder Torrance felt more confident with Mariah and Mina. People weren’t comparing her to them; instead, they were acknowledging how much she’d improved. And as much as Nellie didn’t care for Club Venus, she still wanted the best for Torrance.

“And for what it’s worth, I never felt like I was carrying our team,” she told her. “I should have told you that back then. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“No, I know you never felt that way,” Torrance returned, and nothing else needed to be said. She and Nellie understood each other. They always had.

“But… I guess I can’t persuade you to get dressed and come out with us?” she added.

Nellie shook her head. “Not a chance.”

Torrance nodded. “It was worth a shot.” She started for the door. “Well, sorry for interrupting your call with your man.” She stopped. “I didn’t interrupt… something, did I?”

Nellie let out a laugh. “No, it wasn’t one of those calls. He’ll be back Tuesday; I think I can manage ‘til then.”

“Tuesday?” Torrance noted. “Okay, I’ll be sure to steer clear of here that whole day.”

She let herself out, and Nellie told her to have a glass of water for every drink—she had to work tomorrow. And as Torrance waved goodbye and Nellie shut the door, she knew that neither of them were the same people anymore. They’d grown. Professionally, apart. But not in their hearts.

* * * *

Sunday, November 20, 2022 NJPW/Stardom Historic X-Over – Tokyo, Japan

If anyone was surprised at how well Cosmic Queendom and Aussie Open worked together in the ring, it wasn’t Nellie, Torrance, Kyle, or Mark. It felt like they’d been teaming together for years, and the deeper they got into the match against Los Ingobernables de Japon and Fukuoka Double Crazy, the more Nellie knew they were creating something special for fans of NJPW and Stardom alike. But it wasn’t all serious. Nellie couldn’t help but mess with Sanada and Naito a bit—a callback to her days in Suzuki-gun with Zack. In the end, it was Torrance who got the pin over Koguma after she and Nellie surprised Mark and Kyle by doing Coriolis. And when their arms were raised in victory, Nellie almost wished that she and Torrance had joined United Empire like they’d half-joked about a year ago.

Almost.

More members of United Empire greeted them as they returned backstage; Jeff Cobb, Great O-Khan, and Aaron Henare’s match against Kazuchika Okada, Toru Yano, and Great Muta was next. Mark and Kyle exchanged “Crowns Up” with all their teammates—and then Jeff looked expectantly at Nellie.

“Come on, you know you want to,” he tempted, wiggling his hands at her.

“Fine; but only for you,” she reluctantly gave in, and she made a crown with her hands and touched her fingers to his.

“I don’t know,” Jeff teased, his voice raising leadingly. “After seeing that Coriolis, I think there’s definitely a spot for Cosmic Queendom in the Empire.”

“Ha!” Torrance bluntly dismissed. Jeff pressed his mouth into a line.

“Okay, maybe just a spot for Nellie, then.”

“Yeah, how long have you two been planning that?” Mark asked, tactfully shifting the focus away from the ghost of Torrance and Will’s relationship. Thank God Will was elsewhere.

“Not long; we only just thought of trying it a few days ago,” Nellie said. “You’re not upset we did it?”

She looked hesitantly between Mark and Kyle, but they both quickly shook their heads. “Hell no, it was perfect,” Kyle assured, and Nellie smiled. They’d talked everything out that night he’d kissed her three weeks ago in New York City, and there wasn’t any awkwardness at all between them. They’d had a fling a year ago that just hadn’t panned out, and that was that. They were just friends. Easy.

“Well, thanks,” she said. “But Torr and I are kind of a package deal, so if she’s not in, I’m not, either. Sorry, Jeff.”

“A package deal?” O-Khan slyly asked. Torrance’s eyes widened.

“Not that kind of package deal!” she proclaimed. And then, more under her breath, “Not that anyone hasn’t asked me that before, but.”

Nellie whipped her head around at her. “Wait, what?”

“Yes, please share with the class,” Jeff eagerly added, propping his chin on his fist. But O-Khan’s entrance music started to play and inadvertently gave Torrance the perfect out from answering.

“Good luck!” she said, and the guys all groaned and booed after them as she and Nellie left. Nellie could tell by Torrance’s clipping pace that she was keyed up.

“You alright?”

“I need to get out of here and get a drink,” she returned. “How many more matches are there?”

“Um,” Nellie thought about it for a second. “Three, I think? But that reminds me—Gabe invited us out with the LA Dojo guys. I told him I wasn’t sure if you had anything in mind already and would let him know.” She shrugged. “I don’t know, it could be fun. Although that Clark guy seems like he might be trouble.”

“I don’t have anything in mind,” Torrance returned. “And honestly, I’m up for a bit of trouble.”

And that was how, later that night, they found themselves at a dive bar in Roppongi with Gabriel Kidd, Clark Connors, and Alex Coughlin. There had been more people with them at the outset, but one by one they’d dropped off bar after bar and called it a night. But not Nellie and Torrance. They were both familiar with Gabe from his time as a Young Lion, although they hadn’t seen him in a year-and-a-half. As for Clark and Alex, the girls barely knew either of them—but the guys seemed very keen on changing that.

“How the hell is it we haven’t hung out before tonight?” Clark asked Nellie, turning toward her as they sat together at the bar. “I know you were around when I was here in twenty-nineteen.”

“Probably because I was around, but I wasn’t living here yet,” she explained. “I moved here in twenty-twenty, right before everything shut down.”

“Yeah, Nell and I were in that same shitty boat,” Gabe said. “At least you weren’t stuck quarantined in fucking dojo housing.”

She snorted through her nose. “No, I was just stuck quarantined with my ex.”

“No shit!” Clark exclaimed. “Who’s that?”

“Jesus, Clark, mind your business!” Alex shot, his New York accent becoming even more pronounced. Torrance chuckled beside him.

“It’s fine,” Nellie dismissed with a wave of her hand. “It was Zack. Sabre Jr.,” she added, as if there was another pro wrestler named Zack living in Japan.

“Oh shit, you were with ZSJ, weren’t you?” Clark realized. “Actually, now that you mention it, I remember working a RevPro show with you, him, and Suzuki a few years back. Both of y’all were there too,” he said to Alex and Gabe.

They both nodded. “Yeah, bruv, I know exactly what show you’re talking about,” Gabe confirmed. “And clearly Nellie has a thing for Brits, so we should switch spots.”

Clark flipped him off. “You want another drink?” he asked Nellie.

“Nah, I’ll get it,” Gabe said, already flagging down the bartender.

“How about I get us all the next round?” Alex interjected. “You two are embarrassing yourselves.”

Clark and Gabe both let Alex know exactly what they thought of that, and Nellie took the opportunity to slide off her barstool. “Well, while you guys figure it out, I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

“I’ll go with you,” Torrance said.

“It’s a one-stall bathroom,” Clark pointed out.

“Well, good thing I’m going just so we can talk about the three of you, then,” she sweetly returned, and Nellie laughed at the look on Clark’s face as they both walked away.

“Looks like you have your pick of Clark and Gabe tonight,” Torrance smirked once they were out of earshot. Nellie genially rolled her eyes.

“Come on… you know I’m not available.”

“Yeah, I know,” Torrance started—and Nellie could sense it coming.

“But?”

“But,” she went on. “As much as I want things to work out with you and David, you’ve already spent enough time waiting on guys, Nell. More than enough, more than you ever should have. I mean, speaking of Zack—he’s literally the only guy since I’ve known you who didn’t leave you in some sort of limbo.”

Nellie’s eyebrows arched. “Jesus, when you put it like that.” She tried the restroom door handle as they arrived, but it was occupied, and so they both leaned back against the wall on either side of the hall to wait.

“I’m just being honest,” Torrance returned.

“No, I know,” Nellie breathed; and, admittedly, Torrance did have a point.

David had left Japan less than a week after he and Nellie had finally told each other how they felt; and with no timetable for when he’d be back, they’d made the mutual decision not to put a label on anything. “That would make me no better than Jay, and I refuse to do that to you,” David had said. But it didn’t dishearten Nellie. Instead, it emboldened her. Because, to her, it confirmed that what she and David had wasn’t conditional. It was real.

“And I get what you’re saying, I do,” she told Torrance. “But it doesn’t feel like I’m in a limbo this time, Torr, and I can’t explain it other than to say I just have this deep-seated feeling in my soul that David and I have something real that’s worth waiting for. I mean, we’ve talked every single day since he left, and I sure as shit couldn’t say that about Jay when he was stuck in the States, and we were actually in a relationship.”

“I know,” Torrance nodded. “David’s a good guy, and I have a lot more faith in him than most, I do. But I’m just saying… I’ll still kick his ass if I have to.”

Nellie grinned. “I know you will. But I’m telling you you won’t.” The restroom door opened, and a woman smiled and bowed her head at them as she exited. “You go ahead,” Nellie offered Torrance.

“Okay, cool; turns out I do have to go,” she said, and she ducked inside and locked the door behind her as Nellie fished her phone out of her small crossbody bag. The clock widget on her home screen informed her it was after 10 a.m. on the East Coast of the U.S., but David was in Los Angeles filming an episode of NJPW Strong; ironically, he had an eight-man tag match against a team that included Jay and Riley. But she decided to text him, anyway. Even if he wasn’t up, he’d get back to her when he was.

She pulled up their text chain and smiled seeing their messages from just a few hours ago; he’d gotten up in the middle of the night to watch her and Torrance’s Historic X-Over match live. Torr and I are out with the LA Dojo guys, she wrote. I’m having fun, but it’s also just making me miss you.

She sent it off and switched over to Instagram, not expecting a reply. But then David’s name popped up on her screen.

Are you? They’re good guys, don’t let their antics fool you. And I miss you too, every day.

Butterflies. Meaningful ones.

They exchanged a few more texts before Torrance emerged from the bathroom, and Nellie told him she’d let him go to start his day. Okay, let me know when you make it back home, he wrote back. You know I’ll start to worry if I don’t hear from you.

I know, she returned, and she sent it off with a kissy face emoji. Because even though there wasn’t a label on her and David’s relationship, in every other way, every way that mattered, they were together.

* * * *

Sunday, April 23, 2023 Stardom All Star Grand Queendom – Yokohama, Japan

Doggedness and determination. That’s what Nellie was running on by the end of the winner takes all match against Saya Kamitani.

She’d been prepared, thoroughly. But as well as Nellie knew Saya, she wasn’t used to being opposite her, at least not one-on-one, and she realized early on that she couldn’t afford a single misstep. But the reverse was also true—and unlike Nellie, Saya had nothing to gain or prove. She’d surpassed the record set by Momo Watanabe for defenses of the Wonder of Stardom Championship, eclipsed Kairi by more than one hundred days to become the white belt’s second-longest reigning champion, her position as one of Stardom’s best and brightest secure. She had nothing to fight for outside maintaining the status quo.

But Nellie had everything to gain, everything to prove, everything to fight for. Despite being a long-tenured champion herself, despite being the older and more experienced wrestler of the two, she was decidedly the underdog. That was her motivation, her drive, her fire. And by the halfway point, there were more people cheering for Nellie in Saya’s hometown crowd than there had been at the opening bell. If she lost, at least she would have that.

But she won.

She knew she’d done it as soon as she hit her new finisher, a variation on a lifting reverse STO that she’d worked out with David and dubbed the Wit Hit. (“As in a cheesesteak wit onion, not as in like, a quick wit,” she’d explained. “Honestly, it works either way,” he’d smirked.) And when she hooked Saya’s leg and felt the referee count one, two, three, she knew she’d earned the crowd’s respect.

And she had Saya’s, too. All along.

As Nellie stood with tears in her eyes and the winner’s trophy in her hands, Saya fastened the Wonder of Stardom Championship around her waist. And after she raised her arm in victory, she pulled her into a hug and told her in Japanese, “You are always welcome in Queen’s Quest, Nellie-san.”

Nellie hadn’t expected it. It gave her even more to think about.

But she’d worry about that later. Right now, her priority was setting her intention as the new Wonder of Stardom Champion.

“What did I say?” she started as she stepped in front of the backstage camera; sweaty and worn, laden with gold. “I said I would end Saya Kamitani’s history-making reign, and that’s exactly what I did. And now a gaijin from Philadelphia is the 9th SWA World Champion and the 17th Wonder of Stardom Champion—and I intend to be a fighting champion.” She shook her head. “No more going five months without a defense. No more being placated and overlooked. Whoever wants a shot at either of my titles, just say the word. Kamitani-san had fifteen defenses of this championship? I want sixteen. Seventeen, eighteen, more. So whoever wants to try to take it from me, let Rossy know. He can’t ignore me now.”

She stopped to draw in a breath, collecting herself before she went on. “And now that I have proven just how un-ignorable I am, how much of an asset I am to this company, there’s another piece of business I need to address. For an entire week now people have been asking me nonstop backstage, online, stopping me out in the street—Who are you with, Nellie? Are you with Cosmic Angels or Club Venus? And frankly? The answer is neither.

“Tam and Poi, you welcomed me into Cosmic Angels without question. You gave me a place when I was suddenly without one, and I’ll never take that for granted. Torr and I won the Goddess titles with your backing, I won this SWA title for a history-making second time with your backing, the three of us nearly went the distance in the Triangle Derby. But despite all that success, we all knew I was something of a black sheep in your colorful, kawaii flock. It was like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole, and what happened? I wore myself down to try to fit.” She shook her head again. “Not anymore. My edge is back—and with all due respect, I’ve outgrown Cosmic Angels. And with no due respect, I’m sure as shit not joining Club Venus.”

She adjusted the SWA title on her shoulder. She was exhausted, and it was getting heavier by the minute. “But even though I know at the end of the day I can only really rely on me, myself, and I, I’m not really into the whole lone wolf thing, either. I recognize that there’s strength in numbers, and I’ll be taking my time to consider my next move. But for now, I’m gonna go put all this down because it’s fucking heavy, and then I’m gonna crack open a Sapporo and celebrate the sweet, sweet return of Two-Belt Nell.”

* * * *

Wednesday, May 3, 2023 Wrestling Dontaku – Fukuoka, Japan

The Stardom bus arrived at the Fukuoka International Center fifteen minutes before bell time. They’d had a show earlier that afternoon in Shimonoseki, and with Stardom running a pay-per-view in Fukuoka tomorrow, they’d loaded up and made the hour-and-a-half trip down for the NJPW show there that evening. And as soon as she could, Nellie shot off the bus like a bullet.

David had been back in Japan for two weeks, but Nellie had only gotten to spend a handful of hours with him. He’d arrived in Tokyo only to turn around and leave for the Road to Dontaku tour, and their schedules had kept them apart in separate corners of the country. And because of that, Nellie still hadn’t said those three little-big words.

They’d been on the tip of her tongue the day he’d come back. She’d felt them in the way he’d touched her, looked at her, in every breath during that abbreviated time they’d spent together before he had to leave to get on the bus. But she hadn’t wanted to say it only for him to be physically absent again. If she was going to tell him she loved him, she needed to feel it, live in it for longer than just a few hours.

And tonight, the timing was finally right.

She made a beeline for his dressing room, pausing impatiently when she ran into Aussie Open, and they both hugged her and congratulated her on winning the Wonder of Stardom Championship before she took off again. She knocked on the door when she arrived, and David called for her to come in. Her heart melted at the sight of his smile.

“Finally,” he breathed, and then his lips were on hers. Hungry, eager, heated, as if it had been two months instead of just two weeks.

But then Nellie had a thought. “Are you sharing this room with Kenta?” she quickly asked. She hadn’t noticed any other luggage around, but she hadn’t really looked, either.

David shook his head, a smirk on his lips. “Not tonight. We have this all to ourselves.”

That was all the information she needed. She pushed him down onto a seat and straddled his lap, and then they were the only two people in the entire arena again. David ignited her entire being in a way that no one ever had, mind, body, soul—heart. And before they lost themselves in each other, she needed to tell him.

She pulled back and looked down at him. His eyes were dark and hooded, full of desire. “What?” he softly asked.

“I love you.”

Nellie knew he felt the same, she knew he did—but there was still that anxious knot in her gut. Until a smile spread over David’s face.

“I was wondering when you’d finally say it.”

She let go of the breath she’d been holding. “Are you serious right—”

He silenced her with a kiss, and she melted into him like she always did. She loved him; he loved her. It was undeniable.

He pulled back, their lips still close, noses brushing. “I love you, too. I have since the fall.”

Butterflies exploded in Nellie’s stomach. “You have?”

“Mhm,” he nodded. “I spent that entire tour last year falling in love with you, and when I left Japan, it felt like I’d left part of myself behind. And then the night of Historic X-Over, when you called me after you got home from being out with the LA Dojo guys… I knew.”

Nellie’s smile lit up her entire face, her entire being. “I was drunk when I called you that night,” she remembered.

“Yeah, I know you were,” David grinned. “Which reminds me, I have to tell Clark he can’t take my girlfriend out and ply her with alcohol anymore.”

She laughed. “But it would just be a little Bullet Club bonding,” she innocently returned. It made him arch a brow.

“You saying you’re Bullet Club? Is that what I’m hearing?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know… that’s kind of up to you.”

He drew her closer on his lap. “It would be nice to have you out there with me when I win the title tonight…”

He trailed off and kissed her neck. She bit back a grin. “I don’t want to stir the pot just yet. I just won the Wonder of Stardom title; it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to ruffle any company feathers.”

David hummed against her skin. “Mm… yeah, you’re not ready. That’s not something someone in Bullet Club would say.”

Nellie playfully rolled her eyes. But he pulled her mouth against his again, and they let their bodies finish the conversation.

* * * *

Sunday, June 12, 2022 Osaka, Japan

For the longest time, this was all Nellie had wanted. To feel Jay again. To feel wanted by him again. And now that she’d finally gotten it, all she felt was uncertainty. Still.

She lay next to him in his hotel room, facing the other way, listening to him breathe. In and out, steady. Last night had been an intoxicating blur of adrenaline and emotion. She blamed Osaka, the romance of a different setting, the context of why they were there. Stardom and NJPW both had shows in the city; Jay had a match against Okada for the IWGP World Heavyweight Championship at Dominion that night. And last night, Nellie had felt like her body was a prize for Jay just as much as that title. Something for him to win, to take. Part of her regretted letting him have it. But another part of her still yearned to belong to him.

She felt him stir beside her, and then he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back against his chest. She closed her eyes and folded into him.

“Mm,” he hummed. “I missed this.”

He pressed his lips against her neck, and Nellie let him. But she couldn’t keep from asking.

“Did you?”

“Of course,” he easily returned. Almost as if he’d expected her to question him, as if he’d had the answer at the ready that he knew she wanted to hear. But then his mouth was working down her body, his lips leaving a trail of goosebumps over her skin, until his head was between her legs and his tongue inside her. And she gave into him, writhing and arching her back, curling her fingers in his hair until she came undone. And all the while, she didn’t stop questioning.

He kissed his way back up to her lips, his naked body hovering over her. His cock pressed hard against her inner thigh. She wanted it. She hated that she did. But she wanted him.

“Let’s get in the shower,” he breathed. And she let him pull her from the bed and lead her into the shower where he had her again, her back pressed up against the wet tile, legs wrapped tight around his waist as her nails left tiny moon-shaped marks on his shoulders. Because even though Nellie knew it wouldn’t last, that Jay would just be gone again come tomorrow, she wanted to pretend he was hers for just a little while longer.

* * * *

Saturday, May 27, 2023 Stardom Flashing Champions – Tokyo, Japan

Two defenses in just over a month. Nellie had said she’d wanted to be a fighting champion, and her challengers had quickly formed a line.

Natsupoi had been first, eager and determined. Nellie bested her in a main event twenty-minute battle in Fukuoka the night after David won the NEVER Openweight Championship. Tonight, it was Unagi Sayaka, defeated in just over fifteen minutes. Nellie wasn’t surprised that her former teammates had been the first to step up. They wanted to defend the honor of Cosmic Angels in the wake of her departure, even if there wasn’t any bad blood. But their efforts had fallen short—and Nellie was still an island unto herself. She was biding her time, weighing her options between Donna del Mondo and Queen’s Quest. This time around, the ball was in her court; she wasn’t going to fumble it.

She returned to the locker room after making her backstage comments and automatically checked her phone. David was flying in tomorrow after being back in the States for the last three weeks and change, returning early to spend time with her before Dominion and the next Stardom tour. She smiled when she saw she had a text from him.

Two down, fourteen to go. Proud of you, babe. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

Tomorrow isn’t soon enough, she returned with a kissy face emoji.

But David wasn’t the only one who’d texted her. So had Clark.

Congrats, champ. We’re going out to celebrate, right?

Her brow furrowed. Who’s we? she sent back. She and Clark were friends, but he could get too friendly sometimes.

His response came quick. You, me, and your Stardom friends. The hot single ones.

She rolled her eyes, but her phone pinged again. He’d sent her the name of a bar in Roppongi; of course that was where he wanted to go. She pursed her lips as she wrote back.

My hot single friends might already have plans, she told him.

Alright but if Dave asks it was your idea for just the two of us to hang out, not mine, he returned.

Nellie breathed out. As irritated as she wanted to be, she had to give him that one. But she sent him an eye roll emoji and said, I’ll ask Torr and Thekla and let you know, and threw her phone in her bag to head to the shower.

* * * *

As it turned out, Nellie’s hot single friends did already have plans—to go to a different bar in Roppongi. But that worked just fine for Clark, and he told Nellie he’d meet them there. And honestly, she hoped he’d get there sooner rather than later, because the current company was a mixed bag, to say the least.

Thekla had come, along with Giulia and Mai Sakurai, the three of which were in a celebratory mood—they’d won the Artist of Stardom Championship from REStart that night. Torrance had also come; it was the first time she and Nellie had gone out together in months.

But she’d brought Club Venus with her.

“They’re really not that bad if you get to know them,” Thekla told Nellie over the music as they sat together in the booth; all the others were off dancing or getting drinks. It earned her a skeptical stare. “I know, I know,” she returned. “You’re Team Tam even if you’re not in Cosmic Angels anymore. But Torrance is your best friend, and Mariah is practically her clone. Her much taller British clone, but still.”

Nellie laughed, remembering how she’d told David almost the exact same thing. But then Thekla changed the subject.

“And speaking of you not being in Cosmic Angels anymore… when’re you gonna bite the bullet and join DDM?”

Nellie breathed out. She’d expected this to come up.

“It’s been over a month, Nell.”

“I’m aware,” she replied. “But Giulia doesn’t seem nearly as eager to have me in DDM as Utami does to have me back in Queen’s Quest.”

She sent Thekla a pointed look over her drink. Thekla’s eyebrows arched in understanding.

“Giulia is hard to read, I’ll give you that,” she admitted. “And I’ll be honest with you—you’d have to earn her trust because of how close you are with Tam. Which I mean, can you blame her? Tam shaved her head.”

“Okay, but she rocked that look, though,” Nellie pointed out.

Thekla grinned. “She did, but still. The good news is you’re already halfway there.”

“Am I?” she curiously asked.

“Yeah. Because Giulia trusts me and my judgment—and I want you in DDM, dammit.”

Nellie grinned. “And I appreciate that. And as soon as I make my decision, I’ll let you know.”

“Look who we found at the bar.”

They both looked up. Giulia and Mai had returned, and they had Clark with them.

“I wouldn’t expect you to find him anywhere else,” Nellie quipped.

He set a shot glass in front of her and Thekla each. “Here, I bought us all a round,” he said, and then, in a higher-pitched voice, “‘Oh, thank you, Clark, you’re so sweet and thoughtful and also incredibly handsome.’”

Thekla snorted. Nellie's expression was deadpan. “I already regret telling you where to meet us.”

“Scoot over,” he said with a nudge of her shoulder, and she and Thekla made room so he could sit down while Giulia and Mai did the same on the other side of the booth.

“What is this?” Nellie asked as she picked up the shot.

“Tequila,” Clark said. “I remember what you like.”

She ignored the comment and brought the liquor to her lips.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he quickly stopped her. “We gotta toast!” He raised his glass and looked expectantly around the table. The girls all obliged. “To the success of Donna del Mondo,” he started, “and the restoration of fucking Bullet Club.”

A smirk pulled at Nellie’s lips, and they all toasted and kicked back the tequila, some grimacing more than others as it went down. “Okay, that one was for you, but we're getting whiskey next round,” Clark winced.

“What, can’t handle it?” Nellie teased. “I remember Gabe shooting tequila just fine.”

“A-heh-heh-heh,” he screwed up his face and mock-laughed in return. “But speaking of Gabe—I heard you’re gonna be at Dominion?”

Her brow furrowed in confusion; that segue didn’t make any sense. What did Gabe have to do with Dominion?

But before she could ask, Thekla interjected, “Wait, what? Isn’t Dominion the same day as our Korakuen show?”

Nellie nodded. “It is. But I told Rossy I want to be in Osaka to support David at ringside and that if he really wants to elevate Stardom’s global profile, he needs to start putting me and my two titles on NJPW TV.”

Thekla’s eyebrows arched. “And he agreed to that?”

“Mhm,” Nellie proudly returned. “I think he admired my nerve.”

“Hell yeah,” Clark grinned. “I cannot wait to see the look on ELP’s face when you walk out there with us.”

She gave him another curious look. Us? As far as she knew, Clark wasn’t booked to be at Dominion. “Okay, is there something—”

“What the fuck is this twat doing here?”

Nellie whipped her head around. She saw Torrance first, her face flushed from dancing. And then she saw Dan Moloney.

“I know you’re not talking about me,” Clark returned.

“Well, I don’t see any other twats sat at this table.”

Nellie shot a tense look at Torrance, asking with her face what the hell Dan was doing there. He and Clark had just tried to murder each other in their Best of the Super Juniors tournament match three days ago; the last thing she wanted to do tonight was pull apart another United Empire-Bullet Club fight.

Clark stood from the booth, and Nellie almost grabbed the back of his shirt—but then he greeted Dan like they were best mates.

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, man. You should’ve said something.”

“Yeah, well, kind of a last-minute thing. This one invited me,” Dan said with a thumb at Torrance.

Nellie, meanwhile, was at a complete loss. “I’m sorry—what?”

“I don’t know—men,” Thekla shrugged. “They beat the shit out of each other once and suddenly they’re best friends.”

Clark sat back down next to Nellie while Mai made room for Torrance and Dan on the other side of the booth, and Torrance and Nellie’s gaze connected again. Torrance tapped her phone; and no sooner had she than Nellie felt hers vibrate in the back pocket of her jeans. She pulled it out and read the text.

We may have hooked up. Surprise?

Nellie widened her eyes at her friend. She just shrugged.

Surprised and not surprised, she wrote back. I guess bro code doesn’t count for shit in UE.

She waited for Torrance to see the response. Her phone lit up—and she scoffed before quickly typing back.

Whatever, I don’t care. Will had already moved on to another warm body before my side of the bed was even cold.

Nellie read the text and gave her a look that said, “You’re not wrong,” before sending a written reply.

Maybe Dan isn’t even in UE anymore. Him and Clark acting all buddy-buddy right now is suspicious AF.

Torrance’s eyes went wide, and she typed quickly back. Don’t even joke. I’m so done fucking with Bullet Club boys.

Nellie just laughed; she’d thought the same after she and Jay had broken up. And yet, here she was, just days away from declaring herself Bullet Club, too—something that only she, David, and Clark knew.

As far as she knew, anyway.

* * * *

Friday, November 4, 2022 Osaka, Japan

Tomorrow would be David’s last show in Japan until he didn’t know when. It sucked—it really sucked. He and Nellie had only realized their mutual desire for something more than just friendship five days ago. But Nellie didn’t want to focus on their painfully poor timing. As it worked out, their schedules had synced up to give them a full day off together in Osaka, and they’d taken full advantage.

They started off with getting breakfast at an American-style diner, splitting chocolate banana pancakes and a bacon and cheese omelet because neither of them could decide which sounded better. Then they’d gone on the famous Osaka costumed go-kart sightseeing tour that Nellie had always wanted to try but never had the chance; she’d dressed up as Yoshi, David as Pikachu. Afterward, they’d stopped at one of the city’s numerous food stalls for deep-fried chicken and sticky-sweet rice balls before heading back to David’s hotel room, where they’d fallen asleep watching TV together on the bed. It felt so natural, so comfortable, so uncomplicated sleeping in David’s arms.

But when they awoke, it only made it that much more difficult not to think about how their time together was dwindling all too quickly.

“I don’t want to leave you at all,” David said as they still lay together, his arm around her, her head on his chest. “But I also feel like I need the time away for myself to reset; go back to the fucking drawing board. My G1 was shit; I really wanted that TV Title… I don’t know. I need to figure out what I need to do to stop just spinning my wheels.”

“Your G1 wasn’t shit,” Nellie gently returned. “Will won your block with what? Eight points? And you and everyone else but Juice finished with six. Most people finished with six this year. And if it helps at all, that TV Title is ugly as shit.”

David let out a laugh. “You’re right about that. And yeah, at least I did beat Juice. But it’s just one disappointment after another, you know?”

“I do know. You know I do. And I think you’re right. I don’t want you to leave, either. But even more than that, I don’t want you to get burned out from frustration.” She lifted her head to look at him. “So, take some time to do what you need to do, and then come back to me.”

He gave her a soft smile. “I know this probably feels like an uncomfortably familiar situation. But I promise, Nell—I’m not Jay.”

She shook her head. “I know you’re not,” she said, and she kissed him. She’d meant it to be just one, short and sweet, assuring; but neither of them wanted to stop at just one. David rolled her underneath him, and her hand unintentionally slipped under his shirt. Nellie wanted him; she wanted to cross that line. But she knew all too well that sleeping with him now would only make his absence hurt that much more—

And then her phone started ringing.

He pulled back. “Is someone calling you?”

She sighed. “Guarantee it’s Torrance.” Sure enough, when she retrieved her phone from the nightstand, Torrance’s name was displayed on the screen. David just laughed.

Nellie answered the call, and she and Torrance talked for a few minutes, figuring out what the plans were for the evening (“The Aussies and Jeff and Francesco want to get dinner with us, but I don’t want to be around Will,” Torrance explained). When she hung up, she looked back at David. The previous tension still hung in the air between them.

“It’s probably for the best she interrupted,” he softly said. “I don’t want to do that just to turn around and leave for I don’t know how long.”

Nellie sighed again. “I know. But you know you saying that only makes me want it more, right?”

He grinned. “Maybe that’s the point,” he teased, and he kissed her again. Once, tender and meaningful.

They got up from the bed, and David walked her to the door and told her to let him know when she made it back to her hotel—she wanted to shower and change before dinner—and Nellie made her way to the elevators. She looked down at her phone as one arrived with a ding; but when the doors slid open, a stone dropped into her stomach.

Jay.

He looked like he’d just arrived, luggage in tow, sunglasses on. He pushed them on top of his head and grinned. The cat who caught the canary.

“Well, fancy meeting you here.”  

He stepped out of the elevator, but his suitcase blocked her way and the doors slid closed. Not that Nellie could move, anyway. It felt like her legs had suddenly turned to lead.

“Is Stardom in this hotel?” he asked. “I thought your show was in Nara tomorrow?”

She tried not to think about why he knew that as she answered. “It is, and we’re not. I’m here with David.”

It was more gratifying than she expected to say that to Jay’s face. And even though his face didn’t give much away, she could see it in his eyes. Resentment. But then he turned them down and nodded.

“Are you? That’s kind of surprising.”

Nellie’s brow hardened. “What’s so surprising about it?”

He shook his head. “Nothing—well. It’s just that when you started hanging out with him during the G1… I thought you were doing it just to get back at me.”

Anger bubbled up in Nellie’s chest. Shock, disbelief, to the point that she felt ill. She looked him dead in the eye. “If you think I would use someone like that, then you really don’t know me at all.”

She hit the down button again.

“Nell, come on,” Jay breathed. “What else was I supposed to think? When I got back to Japan it seemed like you wanted to fix things between us, and then next thing I knew, you were out getting drinks with my old best friend.”

“I did want to fix things!” she burst. “Against my own better judgment, I did! And what happened? You fucked me one last time—here, in Osaka, to pump yourself up for your World Title match—and then you disappeared again.”

His eyebrows arched. “Are you joking? I had other bookings; that was two weeks before Forbidden Door.”

The elevator arrived, but Nellie didn’t get on. “Okay, but you didn’t talk to me! You didn’t show me anything, Jay—nothing changed! And you know what David did? He showed me that he gave a shit about me.”

The elevator doors started to close, and Nellie caught them with her arm and stepped inside. She looked back at Jay. The resentment in his eyes had given way to something else. Guilt.

“Nell… I don’t want to leave it like this.”

She shook her head. “Now’s not the time,” she told him, and the elevator doors slid closed, putting a pause on the one conversation that she knew, eventually, she’d no longer be able to avoid.

* * * *

Friday, June 2, 2023 Tokyo, Japan

“You remember the last time we were in Osaka together?”

David asked the question as they finished packing. The big weekend had finally arrived. They were taking the bullet train down to Osaka tomorrow for Dominion on Sunday, and Nellie was buzzing with excitement.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about that,” she said as she zipped up her suitcase and moved it with some effort from her bed to the floor. “It’s crazy to think how much has changed since then.”

Everything had changed. Seven months ago, she and David had been reluctantly pulled apart from one another, both frustrated and floundering in their careers, nothing but uncertainty on the horizon. And now, they were both champions; David the leader of Bullet Club, Nellie on the verge of making her membership known to the world. It felt like they had the whole world ahead of them. And they were doing it together.

“I know,” David returned. “I’d never wanted to board a plane less in my life than I did after that show.”

“Even more than this last time you left?”

“Oh, for sure,” he answered, no hesitation. “Because when I leave now, I know exactly when I’m coming back. It was the not knowing back then that really made it hard.”

Nellie didn’t reply as she climbed onto her bed and settled against the pillows, her thoughts turning inward. After Dominion, David didn’t have any bookings until the G1, over a month away. And they hadn’t really discussed that—if he would extend his stay to spend some extra time with her before heading back home to Florida, if he would come back early before the tournament, if he’d even given it any thought at all. It didn’t worry her, per se; they’d both been busy. But now it was right there in front of her.

“Which, actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

She looked back at him, pulled from her thoughts. “What is it?” she asked.

He settled next to her on the bed, and the atmosphere suddenly felt different. Not tense. But important. Nellie felt her heart pick up a beat.

“I know we’ve been moving kind of fast since I came back in March,” David began. “But truthfully—and I think you feel the same—I don’t see the point in waiting if we both know what we want. And so… I’ve decided that I want to move here, to Tokyo. And if you want, I’d like us to get a new place together.”

If Nellie had been buzzing before, she was positively vibrating now. “Are you being serious?”

He nodded. “Of course. I fucking hate every time I have to get on a plane and leave you again. I hate it. And this last time I was gone, I realized… it’s not just my career that’s here now. My life is, too.”

He looked her in the eyes, full of love and trust, and her heart grew wings. “I would love to get a new place together.”

David smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, and she kissed him. She couldn’t contain her excitement. “Babe! This is a big deal!”

“I know, but it’s what I want,” he reiterated. “And plus, this timing works out because I have a month-and-a-half off after Sunday, so that’ll give me a good amount of time to sort everything out and get my place in Florida packed up and shipped over here.”

“That’s a process,” she told him. “Trust me, I know from experience.”

“I know. But to be honest with you, I already started.”

Nellie smiled at him. “You did?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I had a feeling you’d say yes, so I figured I’d get a head start when I was home.”

“Oh, you had a feeling?”

“I did,” he grinned. “Come here.”

He pulled her into another kiss, and Nellie had never felt so much love, so much trust, so much understanding, so much faith that this was right. That everything she’d been through, that they’d been through, had purposefully brought them exactly to where they were now. And she couldn’t wait to find out what else they would build—together.

“I love you,” David said against her lips, and Nellie smiled.

“I love you, too.”

* * * *

Sunday, June 4, 2023 Dominion 6.4 in Osaka-jo Hall – Osaka, Japan

Nellie had thought she was the only surprise David had in store that night. Boy, had she thought wrong.

The first surprise came after the IWGP Junior Tag Title match. Catch 2/2 had staved off Intergalactic Jetsetters only for Clark to come strutting down to the ring—with a gold cap on one of his teeth and a too-orange spray tan, God bless him—and at first, Nellie hadn’t understood. No one had; he was outnumbered, what was he going to do? But everyone got their answer when Dan Moloney, who had been at ringside for the match, unexpectedly attacked Francesco and TJP, officially turning on United Empire and joining Bullet Club. And Torrance had texted Nellie almost as soon as it had happened.

Nellie I swear to God if you knew about this and didn’t tell me.

Dude I had NO idea I swear, I’m just as shocked as you are, she’d quickly sent back. But as Dan and Clark had walked back up the ramp, the sight of them together made a little too much sense.

“They’re gonna bring out the absolute worst in each other,” she’d noted. David had just laughed.

And then, the match after the next, there was another surprise.

After Bishamon had defeated House of Torture and United Empire to win both the IWGP Tag Team and Strong Openweight Tag Team championships, Alex Coughlin and Gabe Kidd had shown up in Bullet Club shirts and put the boots to them, declaring their intent and establishing their allegiance in one fell swoop. It explained why Clark had brought up Dominion after Nellie had mentioned Gabe last week. She had to admit—she was impressed.

But now it was her turn to be the surprise.

She’d never felt more confident than she did now in her BC Decade t-shirt, cropped to show off her figure; although, she wore her Wonder of Stardom Championship around her waist and her SWA World Championship diagonally across her chest, so she was mostly gold. David had explicitly told her to show off. “You’ve earned that,” he’d told her. “We run this fucking place.”

Excited butterflies teemed in her stomach as they all stood at the ready at the Gorilla curtain. David smirked down at her.

“Last chance to back out.”

She grinned and shook her head. “Not a chance,” she told him, and sealed it with a kiss.

His entrance music started. Clark and Dan went out first, followed by Gabe and Alex. They stood on either side of the stage, and then David went up the steps, followed closely by Nellie, Gedo behind her. She could hear the surprise of the crowd when they saw her, feel it course through her body, energizing her. It was a familiar feeling, but renewed. Different. Deeper.

They walked down to the ring, and while David’s focus was zeroed in on El Phantasmo, ELP was looking at Nellie. Except it wasn’t ELP; not right then. Right then, it was Riley.

“Seriously?” he said down to her. “You never once came out here with Jay.”

Nellie didn’t hesitate. “Jay never asked,” she returned, and David slid into the ring and attacked him.

Twenty-six minutes later, he was victorious. And Nellie hadn’t gotten involved; none of the other members of Bullet Club had. David didn’t need their help; he didn’t need them to interfere. This was a different Bullet Club than what it had been under Jay, a return to the original. And when they all joined David in the ring and raised up the Too Sweet above ELP, Nellie had never felt more like she belonged. Not in Cosmic Angels, not in Queen’s Quest, not even in Suzuki-gun. This was her home, beside David—and it just so happened to be in Bullet Club.

[squadron-goals]

Letter by Leutnant Hans Joachim Wolff to Leutnant Lothar Freiherr von Richthofen

                                                                                        Airfield, 25 April 1918

Dear Richthofen! I still can´t believe that it´s true. I feel as if I had a nightmare. But it must be true, because everyone is talking about it. Just don't think about it, otherwise you have to cry. I can sympathise with your pain, nothing could cut deeper than the loss of your brother. The greatest pain a person can feel. We all, even the youngest mechanic, grief. We mourn the loss of a man who was everything to us, to whom we would have given anything. But unfortunately we were not granted the opportunity to prove our unbreakable loyalty to him. I in particular am deeply unhappy. I have lost more in him than just the great role model he was to everyone. I loved him like a father. I was happy when I was allowed to be with him. Especially in the last time, this was the case. We talked about a flight to Freiburg and Speyer. It was to take place on 24 April. Herr Rittmeister wanted to go to the Black Forest for a few days on a hunting trip and then to the Pfalzwerke. And now all that is to be no more. How everything will be so different now. Really everything was allowed to come, except that. Fate was too cruel. On the evening of 20 April, he shot his seventy-ninth and eightieth. Late in the evening, around half past seven, we took off again. A division lying near Villers-Bretonneux had asked for protection. We had hardly arrived when we encountered a whole bunch of Sopwith-Camels; we immediately attacked, of course. Hardly after a second the first one was on fire, immediately afterwards the second, not long after that the third. I didn't get mine, unfortunately. - By the way, I now have nine kills - Herr Rittmeister had two, one for Leutnant Weiß, who now leads our squadron and has eighteen kills. Herr Rittmeister must have been terribly pleased with these two kills. After the dogfight he went down low so that everyone could see his red machine and waved to the infantrymen. Everyone knew who was on the plane, and they had all seen the burning Englishmen shortly before. Enthusiastically, everyone waved and waved their caps. When Herr Rittmeister landed, he clapped his hands and rejoiced, saying: "By golly, eighty is a decent number.“ And we all rejoiced with him and looked at him admiringly.

That happened the night before, then came the fateful morning. We started around three quarters of twelve in the morning in two chains. The first chain: Herr Rittmeister, Leutnant Freiherr von Richthofen (Wolfram), Oberleutnant Karjus, Vizefeldwebel Scholz and me. We had hardly reached the front when we saw about seven Sopwith-Camels below us on our side in the Hamel area. Apart from the five of us, Jasta 5 was still in the vicinity, but much further on this side in the Sailly le Sec area. Above us there were still seven Sopwith-Camels, but some of them attacked Jasta 5, others stayed above. One or two came at us. We started to fight. In the course of the fight I saw Herr Rittmeister near me several times, but he hadn't shot any down yet. From our chain, only Oberleutnant Karjus was with me. Vizefeldwebel Scholz was fighting with the Albatrosses in the Sailly le Sec area. Leutnant von Richthofen was apparently not quite in the picture yet, since it was about his first air combat. While I was fighting with Oberleutnant Karjus against two or three Camels, I suddenly saw the red machine next to me shoot at a Camel, which at first let itself spin, then pushed away in a steep dive towards the west. This battle was already taking place on the other side beyond Hamelet. We had quite a strong east wind, and Herr Rittmeister must have also not thought of that. Now that I had some space, I occupied myself a little more intimately with a Camel and shot it down. While the Camel was falling, I looked around for Herr Rittmeister and saw him still chasing the Englishman at an extremely low altitude about above the Somme near Corbie. I shook my head unconsciously and wondered why Herr Rittmeister was pursuing an opponent so far beyond. While I was still trying to observe where my kill fell, I suddenly hear machine gun fire behind me and am attacked by another Camel. On the side, this was a pro who put about twenty hits into my machine. When I was rid of him, I looked around for Herr Rittmeister, but saw no one, except for Oberleutnant Karjus, who was near me, but not quite in the picture yet either. That was when it started to get scary for me, as I should have seen Herr Rittmeister. We circled the area for some time, were also attacked again by an Englishman whom we pursued to about nine hundred metres above Corbie, but there was no sign of Herr Rittmeister. I came home with bad suspicions. There were already reports. A red triplane landed smoothly northwest of Corbie. - That another Englishman could have shot him down from behind was out of the question, I could vouch for that straight away.

That would have been the most terrible thing for me, as I considered myself to be Herr Rittmeister's personal protection. - Herr Rittmeister is said to have shot down the Englishman, then he wanted to pull up, but suddenly made a steep glide and landed smoothly. So now there were two possibilities. The machine was overstrained, a valve has popped out, and the engine already at a standstill. The other possibility was hits from the ground in the engine. But he must be alive, and that eased some of our pain. Yes, we were happy for his parents, who were able to see their eldest son again after the war. And then the next day Major Hähnelt came and told us that Herr Rittmeister had died. That was impossible, that couldn't be true. And then I had a terrible suspicion. A rumor that has been going around for some days. You cannot land a triplane smoothly with a deadly injury. But there are Australians lying there who saw the Englishman being shot down, and suddenly the triplane had to land there. No, it's unthinkable. Are all people really that brutal? You will probably get more detailed information about it. And if it is true, then the German people will collectively demand accountability. And we, the Jagdgeschwader Richthofen, especially his Jasta 11, will prove to the English that even if Richthofen is dead, his spirit will live on with us forever. They will be surprised. - I wish you a speedy recovery. Hopefully you will soon be at the front leading us from victory to victory. Because we only have one thought, and that is to avenge your great heroic brother. And again, my heartfelt condolences. With the best regards Your Hans Joachim Wolff

[alexhornefan]

My Secret Life: Alex Horne, 33, comedian

Saturday 17 March 2012 LINK

The household I grew up in... was very male. I've got two brothers and there was a male dog and two male cats and every family we knew had three boys. Great for us, slightly less great for my mum.

When I was a child I wanted to be... embarrassingly, the great novelist. Or a respected charity worker. I still think both might come true.

If I could change one thing about myself... I would be better at accents. I am genuinely good at copying people's handwriting, but that's less help on stage.

You wouldn't know it but I am very good at... I am almost incredible at table football. It's nothing to be proud of.

You may not know it but I'm no good at... reading books – even though I've written two and want to write the best in the world.

I wish I had never worn... At my dad's 50th [birthday] I wore a kilt. I'm a quarter Scottish but that's not enough to warrant wearing a kilt at any point in my life.

At night I dream of... my next show. They tend to go quite well in my dreams. And then I do the show and it doesn't go quite so well.

What I see when I look in the mirror... Not enough wrinkles. I'm worried that, at 33, it reflects a life that's been a bit boring.

My favourite item of clothing... Bowling shoes. They're from eBay but people think I've stolen them, something everyone wants to do – I quite like that they give me that air of recklessness.

My favourite building... This is vaguely soppy – it's All Souls Church by Broadcasting House. I met my wife on the steps of the church before our first date.

Movie heaven... Any Bond film.

My greatest regret... Supporting Liverpool football club. I wish I'd supported the club where I grew up so I would have a good reason to be fanatical.

My secret crush... Vorderman, I'm afraid. I'm a big Countdown fan. I was on it a few years ago, and she lived up to everything I had expected.

My real-life villain... Meddling execs, especially in TV.

The person who really makes me laugh... My two-year-old son, Tom. He will insist on eating a meal with a box on his head because he's a robot and then get upset because it's difficult to eat food with a box on your head.

The last time I cried... My son Barney's birth, Christmas day 2010. It was happy crying. But it kind of ruined Christmas!

My five-year plan... Everything goes out the window slightly with kids – we've written off the next 20 years.

My life in six words... Not wasting a very lucky life.

A LIFE IN BRIEF

Alex Horne was born in 1978. He studied at Cambridge University where he was a member of the Footlights. Horne made his Edinburgh Festival debut in 2000 with his show How To Avoid Huge Ships. He continues to tour as a stand-up, and also fronts 'The Horne Section', a live jazz comedy showcase. He has published two books, Wordwatching and Birdwatchingwatching. He lives in Chesham with his wife and sons. Horne's latest show, Seven Years in the Bathroom, is at the Soho Theatre tonight and tours in April

[leothetraveler]

Foreign King AU

Non Canon Chapter - Meeting the Husband of Famine

Another day, another group of refugees. With the Lamb’s slaughter of Heket and their continued rampage in Anchordeep, I can’t say I’m surprised anymore. This is the only safe place left for most.

“Seven more, my lord. All from Anura.” A follower informed me as the new arrivals were greeted at the gate. They were also searched, of course. I am kind, not stupid…plus the menticide mushroom addictions were becoming a problem. So basic inspections and such have become the norm over the last few weeks. The refugees rarely cause any trouble anyways. Most are just happy to be safe from the lamb.

“Show me what you are hiding!” One of the enforcers yells, grabbing my attention. The gate guards had surrounded a trio of refugees. A tall, red frog, a smaller fuzzy frog, and a polar bear. The latter of the three was hiding something from the guards. I began to approach when one managed to grab the item.

It was the yellow crown of Anura. Still dead and powerless, but unmistakable.

Everyone froze as the crown was revealed. A moment later, the bear snatched the crown back from the guard. “Don’t touch that! …it’s mine…”

“Oh, really?” I approached the bear. The larger frogs cowered behind him, fearful of the guards that had drawn their blades. “You loot an artifact off a corpse and suddenly it’s yours?”

He held the crown with one hand as he comforted the large frog with the other. One of the guards moved to grab the crown, but I stopped them with a gesture. I wanted to hear the bear’s explanation. He glared at me as he began. “This is the last thing we have left of her. Of my wife. Of their mother. I’m not going to let any of you take it from us…even if that means we have to go elsewhere.”

The guards were confused by this, but I understood. “��you’re Heket’s widowed husband…” I had heard some rumors of Heket having a spouse and children but had given it little thought. There was little talk of them, and what was known only verified the existence of the husband and nothing more. Most of those who knew anything were in Heket’s inner circle, and they kept their late bishop’s secrets to themselves. Still, I couldn’t deny the living proof in front of me. Looking more closely at the two with him, I could see the resemblance between them and Heket…well, mostly with the big one. The other hairier frog resembled their father more. But they were certainly her brood.

“…Let them through.” I told the guards. Both them and the bear looked at me with surprise. “M’lord? Are you sure?”

“I said let them through! They are no threat.” I closed the distance between me and the trio. The bear and tall frog were suspicious, while the other just stared unnervingly. I tried to ignore it as I addressed the father. “…Heket’s old followers have gathered around the fields down by the river. You are welcome to stay as long as you like. Welcome to New Dawn.” With that, I let them be. They found their way to Heket’s quarter shortly after. I didn’t learn the bear’s name was Freddy until the following day when the Heket loyalists tried to convince Freddy to revive and claim Heket’s crown. I managed to convince him not to as we didn’t need to give the lamb reason to crusade against my church. Our truce was fragile as is. Besides, they didn’t know how… and it wouldn’t bring his wife back. I can tell he is a good man. And is…was…a loving husband. I wish I could help him. Wish I could help everyone who has lost people.

But death is The Lamb’s domain, not mine. So all I can give is a gentle hand and a warm home.

[eventiderpg]

Caesar Flickerman, the Master of Ceremonies, strode into view with his arms exuberantly raised in the air, vibrant hair coiffed up toward the ceiling. Harnessing the energy of the crowd that cheered him on, he beamed with a smile almost as bright as the spotlights that illuminated him. A catchy anthem invigorated his every step.

Today was crucial. All of Panem would learn more about those who were reaped, but not from outside information. No, directly from the tributes themselves. Fortunately, Caesar had a knack for bringing out the personalities of even the driest of people during his famous interviews. He had to if it meant winning them the hearts and donations of sponsors.

While the tributes waited in line to be ushered onto the stage and be scrutinized by a restless audience as well as those who watched from home, Caesar greeted the viewers with the following charismatic introduction:

“Ha ha ha ha! Thank you. Thank you, everyone, for being here tonight on the eve of the 75th Hunger Games! Seventy-five years! Can you believe it? Ha, time flies! And no one knows that better than the chosen few who are waiting backstage. I am elated to introduce you all to the 24 tributes of the Third Quarter Quell. A very special group indeed. Never seen before in the history of the Games. Because for this year alone, we’ll see for ourselves if more life experience makes for wiser, more efficient contenders. But first, let’s give them a chance to express themselves, because more life experience means more stories we’d like to hear. Isn’t that right? Ha ha! Let’s hear it for them! Yes, so exciting! Now, the first of our tributes hails from one of the esteemed career districts. I spoke to her briefly backstage, and she’s a firecracker of a woman. I love it, I love her. Come on out!”

Though the cycle of interviews provided some insight into those who were reaped, neither Caesar nor the tributes’ day was close to being over. Renting out the Museum of Panem History for a hefty but sufficient price, Caesar helped arrange an after-party where all walks of people could enjoy each other’s company. How else would high society get a closer look at the garments that the stylists worked so tirelessly to create? And what better place to view segments of the Games than in the spacious auditorium found in the museum? However, the curators strongly encouraged that any food and beverages remain in the dining room. Each display was too invaluable to risk an accident.

The excitement of Capitolites. The anticipation of tributes and their prep teams. The culture shock experienced by lottery winners. An amalgamation of emotions would brew within a building that contained relics of the nation’s controversial past. For the sake of everyone involved, the attendees could only hope the event would run smoothly, especially among individuals of such differing opinions and backgrounds. Though hope may not be enough to keep the growing unrest from boiling over.

This event is optional. Though if your muse(s) finds themselves at the gathering, be sure to tag your threads or drabbles with #eventideevent02. This event will take place from June 17th through July 8th. Any thread involving this event that is written after July 8th should also be tagged with #eventidepast. Under the cut, you will find the training scores for our twenty-four tributes! Happy roleplaying!

In the morning after their last day of training, the tributes demonstrated their abilities in front of the Gamemakers, and after much deliberation, they were given scores that reflected their skills or lack thereof. A new and compelling topic of discussion, the scores both garnered the attention of Capitolites and earned some a target on their backs. With this knowledge, tread carefully. Any misstep could cost one an allyship or sponsorship.

District One:

Anna: Nine

Lucky: Ten

District Two:

Ambrosia: Ten

Ezra: Ten

District Three:

Devyn: Seven

Discord: Four

District Four:

Rosmarinus: Ten

Fletcher: Nine

District Five:

Wendy: Five

Zephyr: Five

District Six:

Amara: Seven

Abel: Eight

District Seven:

Juniper: Eight

Laurel: Five

District Eight:

Ariadne: One

Benjamin: Four

District Nine:

Lavender: Six

Flax: Five

District Ten:

Tala: Seven

Callum: Four

District Eleven:

Jolene: Four

Ray: One

District Twelve:

Hazelle: Four

Chandler: Six

[our-time-is-now]

September 13, 2019 (1): Five hours… we can do it…

(previous play)

You can find more information about the authors, translators, content warning and additional information about the plays in the pinned post on our blog.  

Attention! This play includes transgender topics. For more details see our interjection.

Friday, 7:25 am:

David: *has barely slept due to nerves and has also noticed that Matteo hasn’t been in a deep sleep often enough* *got up together with him shortly before 6, has quickly drunk a glass of water, had a shower and has put the last of his bathroom stuff into his bag* *has made sandwiches for Matteo while he was in the bathroom and then tried to talk him into eating something, but failed miserably* *has therefore packed them for him and put it in his backpack in case he gets hungry later* *is pretty nervous and therefore quieter than usual, just like Matteo* *is quite glad that the others don’t come into the kitchen before a quarter to seven and automatically wraps his hoodie jacket closer around himself and finally zips it up* *has to take a deep breath when he realizes that this is also a mannerism that he probably has to do for the last time* *at some point he gets a text from Alex telling him that he’ll be there in 10 minutes and Hans, Linn and Laura give him some more encouraging words* *rolls his eyes a little when Laura reminds Matteo for probably the fifth time this week that she’ll have her lunch break at quarter past 12 and that he should definitely call her then to give her an update, but that he can definitely call her anytime if something should happen* *doesn’t want to hear it right now that something might happen and also doesn’t want Matteo to hear it, and therefore suggests that they go downstairs to wait for Alex outside* *hears everyone sigh and sees everyone getting up to say their goodbyes* *then gets hugged by Laura and she wishes him good luck and tells him that she’s so happy for him that he’ll have it over with in a few hours* *after letting go of her, he sees Hans holding out his arms and taking a step toward him to also hug him, and he takes a step back out of reflex and crosses his arms in front of his chest* *is almost startled by his own reaction and thinks that he could have just told Hans that he doesn’t want that without the binder, but is then relieved when Hans seems to immediately understand it and when he smiles slightly and runs an encouraging hand through his hair and emphasizes again that he’s here anytime in case they need something and that there will be a party when David comes back home* *can see Linn standing around a little indecisive, but finally she holds out her hand and wishes him good luck, as well* *can see that she bites back on a worried comment and is really grateful for that in that moment* *waits for everyone to say goodbye to Matteo as well, and then goes downstairs with him* *wraps his arms around him when they are finally alone again and stays in a close embrace with him until Alex’ car arrives* *then they really have to laugh a little when Matteo tries to squeeze himself onto the narrow backseat, but eventually manage it by him pushing his seat forward a little* *gets pretty nervous again on the drive and is glad that Alex isn’t the type for smalltalk and that therefore the drive is mostly quiet* *they manage to get through traffic quite well and finally arrive at the hospital at 7:20* *waits for Alex to get his bag from the trunk and then smiles slightly when Alex only squeezes his arm for a moment in goodbye and wishes him good luck while he asks Matteo to keep him updated before he quickly gets back into the car and drives off* *immediately grabs Matteo’s hand again and takes a deep breath before they enter the hospital* *they find the right ward without any problems and he checks in with the nurse in charge, who confirms his room again, explains that he shouldn’t leave any valuables in his room during the surgery and that there will be a nurse with him in a minute who will explain the procedures again* *thanks her, goes to the allotted room with Matteo and takes a quick look around* *finds the room quite nice and is especially glad that it’s a single room* *clears his throat and then says* Looks quite nice, right? *sits down on the bed and pulls Matteo with him, so that he’s sitting down next to him* *somehow feels pretty unreal right now and feels like the only thing that’s real is Matteo sitting next to him* *can feel a small lump in his throat, swallows slightly and quietly takes a deep breath* *eventually says quietly and with a slightly hoarse voice* Thanks for coming with me…

Matteo: *looks around the room and nods* Yep, quite nice… the window is nice and big… *presses his lips together because somehow that’s smalltalk that doesn’t suit them* *then hears David swallow and immediately wraps an arm around him* *presses a kiss to his hair* Nothing could have stopped me… *then already hears a knock and sees a nurse come in* *automatically takes his arm off David, but stays close to him* *sees her smile and hears her say: “Hello, I’m nurse Christine. We’ll see each other more often over the next few days. If anything’s wrong then you can just press the famous nurse’s button and I’ll be at your service… well at least in the mornings.”* *sees her smile and sees David nod* *then sees her looking at him: “And you are the brother?”* *shakes his head almost sulkily* Noo, the boyfriend… Matteo Florenzi. *sees her nod: “Yes of course, boyfriend, sorry… okay, Mister Schreibner, I have a little miracle pill here for you, it’s only to calm you down so that your body can already power down a little bit… Doctor von Fratschen will be with you in a minute to do the markings and then everything will just take its course, okay?”*

David: *leans against Matteo when he wraps his arm around him and smiles slightly at his words* *still swallows a little against the lump when there’s a knock and a nurse comes in* *also greets her and then listens to her* *nods and returns her smile a little* *but then has to grin a little when she assumes that Matteo is his brother, and pointedly reaches for his hand while Matteo enlightens her* *accepts the pill and a small cup of water and has to let go of Matteo’s hand again to do so* Thanks… *sees her smile apologetically: “Unfortunately that’s all you’re allowed to drink for now… you didn’t eat or drink anything today, right? The last food at 9 pm, the last time you drank at 6?”* *nods* Yes, exactly… *then hears that the doctor will be in soon to do the markings and nods again* Okay, thanks… *sees her smile again and then hears her say: “A little bit of nervousness is normal… but really, don’t worry. We’ve got a handle on it… I’ll leave you alone for now… we’ll see each other again in a minute…”* *looks after her and is glad that she was so nice and that she tried to calm him down a little* *then looks at the pill and glances at Matteo* Well then… *swallows the pill and chases it down with water* *keeps thinking that it’ll start soon, that this right here is real, that the time has come in a minute and thinks that it’s probably a good thing if this body already powers down due to the pill* *hopes that his mind will do the same* *looks at Matteo but is somehow too nervous to say anything, therefore only reaches for his hand and squeezes it slightly*

Matteo: *notices that he can’t really listen to the nurse because he’s somehow so tense* *but then tells himself that it’s important for him to hear everything and concentrates* *hears her say that some nervousness is normal and then hears her take her leave again* *looks at David and the pill and then the little cup of water* *has to grin slightly* Well then… let’s hope it’ll help… *wants to get rid of the tension a little, not only for David’s sake, but also for his own* *therefore nudges him slightly after he swallowed the pill* So? Do you already feel anything? Are you totally calm? Are your eyes getting heavy? *but then sees that David isn’t in the right headspace for that and squeezes his hand* Sorry… *presses a kiss to his cheek, simply because he wants to show him that he’s here*

David: *is nudged by Matteo and has to grin slightly at his words, even though he feels like they don't really get through to him* *then sighs quietly and slightly shakes his head when he apologizes* *swallows slightly and clears his throat again before he says with a slight smile* Sorry that I can’t appreciate your attempt to lighten the mood… *closes his eyes for a moment and takes another deep breath* *then wraps both arms around Matteo and buries his face in the crook of Matteo’s neck* *murmurs quietly* I’m so nervous… *can feel the lump growing again and adds with a whisper* ...and I’m so looking forward to it and I have no idea why I’m still about to cry… *takes another deep breath and swallows against the lump* *kisses Matteo’s throat and is glad and grateful that he’s here with him*

Matteo: *almost has to laugh when David apologizes* Sorry that it was a bad attempt… *then also wraps both arms around him and simply holds him tight* *hears his whispers and says quietly* I know… everything will be okay… *presses a kiss to his hair when he hears his next words* It’s okay… let it out… I’m here… *squeezes him a little tighter and fully concentrates on David* *says quietly* Everything will be over in 6 hours… and you’ll finally have it behind you… and I’m here and you’ll still be really groggy from the anesthetics and say funny things… but I’ll be a commendable boyfriend and won’t record it to get famous on YouTube, I promise… *realizes that he’s tried to lighten the mood with humor yet again and kisses him again*

David: *nods slightly when Matteo says that everything will be okay* *thinks that he should be the one to say that to Matteo, but is glad that it’s the other way around now and hopes that Matteo also believes in it himself* *squeezes him closer when he says that it’s okay to cry and that he’s here and can feel that he really can’t suppress the lump anymore and feels a few tears welling up in his eyes* *tries to somehow breathe them away and concentrates on what Matteo is telling him* *nods again and then has to laugh quietly while tears keep welling up in his eyes* *lifts one hand to wipe them away and says with a husky, yet still amused voice* The fact that you even think of that stuff… maybe I should confiscate your phone before the surgery… *takes another deep breath and realizes that he’s feeling a little better due to the laughing* *therefore asks quietly so Matteo will keep talking* What kind of funny things do you think I’ll say after the anesthesia…?

Matteo: *isn’t aware of his tears because David has his face buried* *but can imagine that he’s very emotional* *is therefore glad that his second attempt is a little bit more successful and that he can hear David laugh briefly* *but then sees him wipe tears away and looks at him* *smiles slightly* If it makes you feel better, then you’re welcome to confiscate my phone… but I could just as well start with the lack of trust again… *smiles slightly and kisses him to show him that it was really only a joke* Oh, I’m naturally hoping for exuberant declarations of love… but maybe you’ll just babble confusing stuff… or think that an actor is your best friend… I’m curious to find out…

David: *slightly shakes his head when Matteo says he’s welcome to confiscate his phone* No, it’s okay… otherwise Laura will kill me if you don’t call her at 12:15… *then laughs again quietly when he mentions the lack of trust* But you won’t… *slightly pulls away from him again so that he can look at him and right then doesn’t care that Matteo can see that he cried* *still has a small lump in his throat but realizes that he’s feeling a little better* *adds slightly amused* Because of course you wouldn’t want to tease me about something like that in my current situation… *sees him smile and returns his kiss* *then grins slightly at Matteo’s imagination of the confusing stuff he’ll say and says* Well you get exuberant declarations of love often enough as it is, don’t you? *but then doesn’t have the chance to go further, because there’s a knock at the door and sees Dr. von Fratschen open it a moment later* *sees him smiling at him: “Ah, Mister Schreibner… good morning. Ready for me to decorate your body with a few lines?”* *smiles slightly and nods* Good morning… *takes a deep breath* Yes, I’m ready… *sees the doctor smile: “Very good!” and then also turn to Matteo with a smile: “We know each other from the initial consultation, don’t we? Unfortunately, I forgot your name, but I still remember that you’re the partner and that you asked a lot of smart questions!”* *grins slightly but is somehow happy that the doctor still remembers Matteo* *then sees the doctor turn back to him and hears him ask: “Do you want your partner to stay while I do the markings or should I kick him out?”* *grins again and looks at Matteo* He can stay… *hears the doctor: “Very good! Then please undress down to the belt and pull your pants down far enough for me to see your pelvic bone well… you didn’t wear a binder within the last 24 hours?”* *starts undressing and shakes his head* No, the last time on Wednesday evening…

Matteo: *grins very broadly when he says he wouldn’t tease him* Of course not… that’s not why I said it… *then smiles slightly* I prefer your declarations of love when you’re in your right mind, anyways… *was just about to kiss him when there’s a knock on the door and the doctor comes in* *is a little proud that he remembers him* I am… Matteo Florenzi… *sees him smile and nod and turn back to David* *already gets up when he hears his question because he thinks that David prefers to do this alone* *is then surprised when he says that he can stay* *still remains standing to be out of the way* *sees the doctor touch him lightly and nod: “Yes, feels good… everything loose…”* *then sees him grab a sharpie and start drawing onto David and hears him explain what he’s doing* *tries to understand something about the cuts and tools he mentions but can’t really follow him*

David: *lets the doctor touch him and briefly searches for Matteo’s look and smiles slightly before he concentrates on what the doctor is doing again* *then gets the lines drawn onto him and listens while the doctor repeats what he already told him at the first consultation and again on the consultation on Monday - that he’ll have small incisions and that they will try to remove the uterus and fallopian tubes vaginally during the hysterectomy* *nods at everything else he explains and after negating his questions whether he has any further questions hears him say: “Very well! It’s almost 8:30 now… did you already receive one of our fashionable hospital gowns?! Oh, hang on… I think they are in the cabinet here…”* *watches him go to the cabinet and sees him take out a gown and panties and put them on the bed while he hears him say: “It would be good if you got changed before 8:45 at the latest. Usually, we pick up the patients 5 minutes before their scheduled surgery, but if everyone’s already ready downstairs then it’s possible that we start earlier… I’ll go see how far they are in a minute…”* *nods at everything while he puts his shirt back on for now and murmurs a quiet* Okay… thanks… *sees the doctor smile and shake his hand: “See you in a minute, Mister Schreibner…”* *then sees him hold his hand out to Matteo, as well: “Mister Florenzi… maybe we’ll see each other during rounds… and don’t worry about your boyfriend. He’s in the best hands…”* *says his goodbye and waits for the doctor to close the door behind himself* *then looks at Matteo and realizes that the lump in his throat is gone and that instead his heart is beating like crazy, because now everything is somehow happening really fast* *takes a step toward him and asks quietly* I’m doing good right now… now it’s your turn… how are you doing?

Matteo: *sees the doctor hand David a gown and grins because they’re simply hideous by default* *is positively surprised when he shakes his hand, as well* *nods when he says that they’ll see each other during rounds* Mhm… *then hears him say that he shouldn’t worry and that David is in the best hands* *freezes briefly because that only reminds him that even in the best hands things can go wrong* *briefly presses his lips together but nods* Okay… *swallows slightly but pushes the thoughts aside, because now it’s about David* *looks at David when he comes toward him* *wants to lie and tell him that everything is okay, but somehow can’t do that* *therefore says quietly* I’m nervous… *puts his hands on David’s hip and looks at him* But I’m sure that’s normal… I’ll manage… *clears his throat* Will they pick you up or do you have to go there by yourself?

David: *looks at Matteo scrutinizingly and nods slightly when he says that he’s nervous* *is grateful that he’s honest, also puts his hand on his hip and pulls him a little closer* *nods and says quietly* I’m sure that it’s normal… *knows that he can’t say much more, but really hopes that Matteo will be able to pass the time and that he’ll be distracted* *kisses him briefly and tenderly and puts a hand on his cheek* *says quietly* I’ll be with you again very soon… five hours… we’ll easily manage that… *kisses him again tenderly and then hears his question and can feel his heartbeat speeding up* They’ll pick me up… *takes a deep breath and then pulls away from him a little* *pulls his phone, wallet and keys from his pocket and holds it out to Matteo* *slightly presses his lips together and then says* I think it’s better if you take that… you never know… who’ll walk in and out the room… *checks the time and suddenly feels some panic that he might get picked up sooner and that he’s not ready* *therefore says with a glance to the gown* I think I’ll better get changed already… *briefly kisses him again, grabs the gown and the panty and goes into the bathroom* *grins slightly before he disappears into the bathroom and looks back at Matteo* Don’t you dare laugh when I come out…

Matteo: *nods slightly when he confirms that it’ normal* *kisses him back and then looks at him* *nods again slightly* 5 hours… real quick… *runs a hand through David’s hair when he kisses him again* *nods when he tells him that he’ll be picked up* Okay… *then takes his hands off his hips and accepts wallet, keys and phone* I’ll put it in my backpack... *nods when he says that he’ll go get changed and has to swallow again* Okay… *looks at him when he looks back and then has to grin, after all* I won’t laugh… you know I think you’re hot no matter what you wear… *then goes to his backpack when the bathroom door closes behind David and stows the stuff there* *then walks around the room for a bit, fumbles with the blanket and then the curtains until David comes back out again* *grins slightly and nods* Like I said… totally hot… *but then really already hears a knock on the door and sees Christine come back in and hears her say: “Ah, Mister Schreibner, you’re already dressed, great, we’re indeed already ready for you, so let’s get going?”* *shoulders his backpack and looks at the nurse* How far am I allowed to come with you?

David: *briefly gave Matteo the secretary’s-office-look when he said that he thinks he’s hot no matter what he wears, but then disappears into the bathroom to get changed* *also uses the toilet again and then has some difficulties with the stupid panties, but finally manages, after all* *feels pretty ridiculous when he finally leaves the bathroom and has to laugh when he hears Matteo’s comment* *looks at him lovingly* You loon… *but then flinches slightly when there’s a knock on the door and nurse Christine peeks inside* *immediately feels his heart racing again when she says that they can leave already and only thinks that it’s actually way too soon* *checks the time and sees that by now it’s a quarter to 9* *hears Matteo’s question and the nurse answer: “You are welcome to come with us until the surgery area… after that, you can’t come any further…”* *briefly exhales and looks between the nurse and Matteo* *then asks with his heart beating fast* Could we maybe have 5 more minutes?! *sees her looking between them in skepticism at first, but then smile slightly and nod: “Okay… but if I come back in 5 minutes, then you’ll already be in bed and we’ll go downstairs straight away, okay?”* *nods* Okay… *doesn’t even wait for her to leave the room and instead takes his clothes to the duffle bag* *opens it and stuffs the clothes inside* *can feel that his hands are shaking slightly* *then pulls out the box for Matteo and and jams the duffle bag into the wardrobe* *goes toward the bed and takes Matteo’s hand on his way and pulls him with him* *sits him down on the edge of the bed together with his backpack and sits down beside him* *takes a deep breath and says* Okay… I have something for you… *puts the box down on his lap and realizes that his hands are still shaking* *still smiles slightly and says* You’re only allowed to look inside once I’m in the operating theater, okay? *puts his hand on his cheek and looks at him* You can do this, you hear? And so will I! And we’ll see each other soon! *kisses him briefly and then again a little longer* *looks at him again afterwards and realizes that his voice is a little shaky when he finally says quietly* I love you, Matteo! Okay? Don’t forget that!

Matteo: *nods weakly when she says how far he can come along* *then realizes that he already feels a little numb* *hears David ask her if they can have 5 more minutes and thinks that he’s getting a little scared right now* *pulls himself together so that he can support him* *is therefore a little surprised when David pulls a box from his bag and when he pulls him to the bed* *gapes when he presses the box into his hands* *can’t believe that David really made something for him, whatever it is, so that he’ll feel better* *nods when he tells him that he’s only allowed to look inside once he’s in the operating theater* *has to swallow hard and really hopes that he won’t tear up* *swallows again and then says in a brittle voice* You loon… *then looks at him and can only nod* *gets a kiss and another one, and kisses him back* *wraps his free arm around him and then looks at him* *presses his lips together at his words and nods* So do I… don’t forget that… *kisses him again and pushes a strand off his forehead with a slight smile* *says quietly* See you in five hours, Schreibner.

David: *only shakes his head a little when Matteo calls him a loon and can see and hear that it’s difficult for him to say anything at all* *feels pretty similar right now, because he doesn’t even know where to put all his feelings* *only knows that right now, his love for Matteo is the only thing that he can really put a name on and that it’s the only thing that feels real and tangible* *smiles when Matteo returns his words and when he pushes a strand of hair off his forehead after the kiss* *does the same to him and then smiles slightly* *then pulls him close again with both arms and murmurs* See you in five hours, Florenzi… *then hears a knock at the door, sees it being opened and hears nurse Christine's voice: “I vaguely remember telling you that I want you /in/ bed not /on/ the bed, but okay… I do think I’m ten seconds too early and you were just about to lie down.”* *quickly kisses Matteo again and then pulls away from him* *takes a deep breath and tells the nurse* I was just about to… *lifts the blanket and crawls under it* *hears Christine calling across the hallway: “Birgit, room 5 is ready for departure” and sees a second nurse coming into the room a moment later, hears her introduce herself briefly and then sees her release the brakes from the bed* *briefly grabs Matteo’s hand again and squeezes it slightly* *can feel his heart racing and another lump in his throat when the nurses finally move his bed and has to let go of Matteo’s hand when they push it out of the room* *but immediately looks around for him once the bed is in the hallway and smiles slightly when he really immediately appears next to him again*

Matteo: *hears the knock on the door and immediately gets up when he hears Christine's words* *gets another kiss and then takes a step back* *watches David crawl under the blanket and immediately feels his heartbeat picking up* *then sees a second nurse coming into the room, but doesn’t really look at her and instead only looks at David* *still has his backpack on his back and the box tightly held in one hand* *squeezes David’s hand and hopes that he looks something resembling cheerful and then has to make room for the nurses for a moment, but is immediately next to David again a second later* *goes into the lift with them and briefly takes David’s hand again* *then quietly walks next to David’s bed and feels like he isn’t the one moving his legs* *then sees a big door and when everyone stops so do his legs* *then hears nurse Christine: “Alright, young man, this is it for you…”* *automatically leans down to David and kisses him* *says quietly* See you soon, Schreibner… *presses his lips together when David returns his words and then straightens himself* *takes a step back and watches the doors close and the nurses pushing David through them* *can feel everything inside him screaming for him to pull David back* *presses his lips tightly together and balls his free hand into a fist* *watches the doors close and stares at them, as if that would force them to open again* *feels absolutely helpless and powerless and doesn’t even notice sliding down the wall in the hallway* *drops the box beside him and buries his head in his arms* *tries to concentrate on his breathing and at some point lifts his head again* *gapes when he notices the box and picks it up again* *briefly considers not opening it, because it will surely make him cry* *but then thinks that crying is better than panic and opens it slowly*

(next play)

[roscoebarnes3]

William Johnson House reopens September 1

The William Johnson House is pictured on the right; the building on the left is the McCallum House, Johnson’s neighbor’s house which is used as the Visitor Contact Station. The first floor of both buildings will be open on Sept. 1.

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

Rosco Barnes III

Natchez, MS, USA / ListenUpYall.com

Aug 17, 2023 | 8:24 AM

NATCHEZ, Miss. – The William Johnson House will reopen Friday, Sept. 1, according to Lead Historian Jeff Mansell of Natchez National Historical Park. He said only the first floor will be open.

“The upper family living quarters will remain closed,” he said. “We have to rebuild the back galleries of both houses (William Johnson and McCallum House). The renovation in that area needs to be completed because structurally, it’s not safe.”

As in the past, the house will be open seven days a week from 9 a.m. to 4:30 p. m. Tours are free to the public. Space for visitors and the bookstore will be on the first floor.  A guide will also be available.

“We are in the process of doing the A and E (architect and engineering) work for the rebuilding of the galleries,” Mansell explained. “We are improving accessibility to the site and to the kitchen. We will install new exhibits in the kitchen downstairs.”

The William Johnson House is located at 210 State St., between South Canal and South Wall streets. It is one of five sites owned and operated by the Natchez National Historical Park. The house initially closed in 2020 because of COVID-19, and it remained closed temporarily because of the need for property maintenance.

Johnson reportedly built the house in 1842 using bricks taken from buildings destroyed in an 1840 tornado.

“We’re happy to have this first floor open to the public,” Mansell said. “We invite everyone to  come in and learn about William Johnson’s life and writings.”

Johnson (1809 -1851) was known as “The Barber of Natchez.” According to Mansell, Johnson trained many barbers, and he took in lots of children of mixed race relationships and trained them to become barbers.

Johnson is probably most famous for his 16-year diary, which was discovered in the 1930s in the attic of his house, said Mansell. His family sold the diary to Louisiana State University, and it was published in 1951. It remains in print to this day.

“It is considered the most important account of the antebellum south from the perspective of a free man of color,” Mansell said.

One of the things that people find controversial about Johnson is the fact that he was born a slave, and he became a slave owner himself, Mansell said. Even so, he left a legacy that is rich in history, and his house is one way to learn more about his interesting life.

For more information, on the William Johnson House, call 601-442-7047. For a look at excerpts from William Johnson’s diary, visit the Natchez National Historical Park Facebook page.

Source: https://listenupyall.com/2023/08/17/william-johnson-house-reopens-september-1/