#Hussie when I catch you

[dandyleyen]

Hey so

that entire section where Dave is back in his old room for the first time in like. three years ? and he’s looking at the pictures he took when he was 13 and before everything happened and he started laughing and crying and he couldn’t stop ?? that did irreversible damage to me I think. hussie when I CATCH YOU.

it’s horrifying to think about how they’re all just kids. they’re KIDS. by this point in the timeline they’re like 16 and all and I’m just horrified because my little sibling is currently 16 and it puts it into perspective for me and ???? Jesus Christ I don’t know how homestuck ends at all but if these kids don’t get a goddamn break and some peace and happiness I’m gonna lose it

[muffinlance]

That moment when you have to completely stop using Google docs for your writing because the AI spellchecker is actively, insistently wrong, when it catches things at all

Anyway here's me crawling back to LibreOffice and Scrivener like the disloyal hussy I am

[wh0re43van]

Maneater- (Jimmy Darling X Reader)

Summary: it’s your first week at the freakshow as a sword swallower and fire eater. Almost everyone has taken an immediate liking to you, especially Jimmy. (Literally only wrote this because I want to deep throat Jimmy)

Warnings: smut, blowjob, kinda public

Word count: 2.3k

I sit on the edge of the wooden stage in the main tent as I clean my swords. the small amount of afternoon sun leaks in through the openings of the red and white canopy, bringing the blistering Florida heat with it. I absentmindedly wipe the sweat on my brow with the same rag I’m sanitizing the sleek metal with, then immediately break into a fit of coughs as the fumes from the rubbing alcohol choke me out.

‘This heat is melting my brain’ I think to myself as I catch my breath as best I can in the hot sticky air. You’d think as a fire breather I’d be used to it, but this August haze is brutal.

Being from New England originally, this suffocating humidity is a far cry from what I consider comfortable, but a gig is a gig. Elsa was more than pleased to hire me when I pulled up with a unique act and my own caravan last week. I’ve worked with a lot of carnies in my day, but the group here is truly one of a kind. Almost everyone took an immediate liking to me. Ethel did her best to make me my favorite dessert as a welcome gift, Desiree insisted on taking me shopping, and Eve has let me sleep in her caravan with her for the week since mine isn’t yet hooked up to electric or water.

“Not even a dog should have to sleep in this heat without a fan,” Eve insisted. All the women have quickly become my closest friends, except for-

“I hope you’re pleased with yourself,” Maggie’s shrill voice cuts through the thick air with ease as she stomps into the tent.

“What are you on about now?” I roll my eyes as I set my swords to the side, walking down the rickety wooden steps that creak under my weight.

Maggie has given me shit since the first time she saw Jimmy flirting with me, which was about 30 seconds after my arrival. Her and Jimmy seemed to have some sort of relationship which he assured was “purely casual”, but Maggie doesn’t seem to agree.

“You have Jimmy out there in this heat wave crawling around messing with your stupid trailer! He could have a heat stroke,” the ‘psychic’ scolds me. I step up to the mousy bitch, adjusting my bathing suit top and brushing the dust off my denim shorts.

“He volunteered to do that for me, so mind your own fucking business… Ya know, in all the carnivals I’ve worked at, I never met a medium that couldn’t take a fuckin hint,” I say lowly, glaring at her. Her face goes red with anger.

“I don’t see how Elsa could hire such an ill-mannered hussy. You surely aren’t doing any favors for the reputation of the show,” I can tell that she’s trying to remain composed, but her voice comes out a shrill whine.

“This hussy earned over 500 bucks in the first four days I was here,” I remind her, laughing at how stupid her attempt at a come back was. Maggie tilts her head and narrows her eyes.

“I’m surprised you even charge money for your act since you prance around here with your tits out shoving shit down your throat for free,” she small lady growls, motioning to my bathing suit top for emphasis.

‘Damn’ I’m a bit shocked by this statement and it shows on my face, but I scoff before pulling the corner of my mouth into a smirk.

“Why don’t we ask Jimmy-“ I begin, but I’m cut off by Jimmy himself.

“Ask me what?” he smiles as he takes a gulp of water out of the glass in his hand. The energy in the room immediately shift as both of us turn to look at him, plastering fake smiles on our faces as we adjust our outfits and hair.

“Ask you, uhm, how you always manage to get such a crowd when you work the carousel. It must be all the girls wanting a ride with you,” I let out a nervous giggle, nudging the bitch to my side. She nods and laughs unconvincingly. At least we can agree on how embarrassing it would for Jimmy to hear us bickering over him like schoolgirls. Luckily, he seems none the wiser to the cat fight that he just accidentally broke up.

Jimmy chuckles as he walks up to us, leaning against the base of the stage. I don’t make any effort to hide my lingering scan of his body. His worn-out blue jeans and white tank top that’s clinging to his toned chest with sweat is covered in the orange dust of Florida’s crust. The veins in his arms are prominent on his slick sun kissed skin that’s dotted with smears of what appear to be grease.

“You’d see me blushing if my face wasn’t sunburnt as all hell,” Jimmy flashes his dimples as he runs his conjoined fingers through his sweat drenched curls. “I’m glad you’re here Maggie, Elsa’s lookin’ for ya,” he informs the blonde. She seems to be happy just to get the smallest bit of attention from the boy.

“Oh, okay. Why don’t you come to my caravan in a little bit. I have a surprise for you,” she says to Jimmy, but her eyes are locked on me, unfortunately for her, Jimmy’s eyes are also locked on me.

“Uh sure Doll, go on now. Don’t leave Elsa waitin’,” the boy says, eyeing me up and down with a grin as he motions his head towards the exit. Maggie smirks at me as if this is some kind of feat before walking out of the tent.

“So,” I smile as I boost myself up on the stage, dangling my feet over the side. “What can I do for you?” I bat my lashes at the sweaty boy.

“I need your pretty hands for one last thing and then you should have electricity,” Jimmy hums, then motions to my swords on the stage. “But if you’re trying to rehearse,” he walks over to the first row of collapsible wooden chairs, taking a seat. “I’ll take my payment in the form of a private show” he leans back, wiping a bit of sweat off his brow. I smile mischievously, standing up and grabbing the three dull swords.

“Well That’s not fair to you,” I tisk as the metal clanks in my hands in. “I’m not even in costume,” I smirk as I pace to the center of the stage.

“Oh trust me doll, this little number you have on right here compliments you just as well as that corset and stockings you dance around in,” he smirks as his drift from my legs to my face, earning a grin from me.

“Well I’m not gonna argue with that,” I laugh before clearing my throat, starting my monologue.

I tun through the first half of my 15 minute routine, Jimmys attention glued to me the entire time. He watches intently as I easily drop two swords down my esophagus, and twist them around before pulling them out one by one. My epiglottis burns as the metal slides through the small opening. I wipe the spit from my mouth, taking a bow as Jimmys applause bounces off the canvas walls.

“Thank You,” I giggle, my voice comes out a bit hoarse as I kneel down by my torches and lamp oil, then I notice I don’t have water to wet my rag. “Gentleman in the front row, could I borrow that glass of water,” I grin, using my ‘show voice’. He happily hops up, bring the glass to the stage. I crawl over to the edge, then sit up on my knees so that my face is even with his. “Thank you, sir,” I grin, holding Jimmys gaze as I take the cup from his hands, brushing my fingers over his.

“I’m honored to be involved in the act,” he breaths as he reaches out, running a thumb over my lip. I grin before licking a strip up the digit, making his eyes go wide.

“If You really want to be a special guest, come join me back stage,” I hum, leaning forward as I take his other hand in mine, tugging him a bit. Without a moments hesitation Jimmy hoists himself up on the stage and pulls me just behind the curtain before he crashes his lips into mine, pinning me to the wall

“You don’t know the things ya do to me, baby,” Jimmy pants against my lips as his hands grab at my body desperately. I giggle into the rough kiss and wrap my arms around his neck.

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” I hum as I reach between us, running my hand over his obvious errciton. Jimmy moans, bucking his hips towards the contact.

“Can ya blame me?” He chuckles lowly before moving his mouth to my neck, leaving wet kisses over my sweaty skin. “It ain’t often that I get attention from a dime like you,” he chuckles lowly against my skin as his large hands grab my ass.

“I guess todays your lucky day then,” I giggle as I turn Jimmy around, pushing his back into the wall. “I just want to thank you for working on my caravan for me,” I purr as I slowly drop down to my knees. His eyes watch intently as I pop open his belt buckle. Jimmy swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as his mouth hangs agape.

“It’s my pleasure, honestly doll. You don’t have to do this-” Jimmy protests weakly as he wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead. His breath hitches when I abruptly yank his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, his heavy cock springing out of its confines.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I smile before licking a strip from base to tip, Jimmy sighs at the contact. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” I bat my lashes at him as he looks down at me, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. “Plus id rather practice on you then those other swords anyway,” I smirk before taking him into my mouth.

He throws his head back, a low growl bubbling from his throat in satisfaction. Jimmy looks down at me with a slack jaw as he watches me take all of him in my throat until my nose is flush with the small patch of hair around his base. His hand finds its way to the back of my head as I begin bobbing up and down on him.

“Just like that, Doll… holy shit,” Jimmy hisses as his face contorts in pleasure. I giggle to myself as I wrap my arms around his legs, allowing him thrust into my face.

My knees dig into the unfinished wood of the stage- sure to leave splinters- as Jimmy violates my throat. His chest starts to heave as he finds his rhythm, filling the tent with low moans and my gagging.

I look at Jimmy through blurry, tear stained vision and I swear I could cum right now. His eyes are screwed shut as his mouth hangs open, letting out the unholiest of sounds I’ve ever heard. His strong arms, shiny with sweat, are flexed so hard that I can see veins popping out of them as he holds onto my hair like his life depends on it.

As Jimmy is lost in pleasure, completely oblivious to anything else around him, I hear shuffling in the side entrance of the tent. I’m about to pull away when I hear Maggie’s whiny voice.

“Jimmy are you still-“ she asks before she freezes, her face goes pale as her jaw drops. The boy doesn’t doesn’t even realize that he’s cutting her off when he moans,

“Jesus Christ baby, I’ve never seen someone look so pretty while gagging on cock,” his voice is breathy and low, but Maggie definitely heard because seconds later she shrieks before running out of the tent. “What was that?” Jimmy asks, slowing his hips, he looks down at me with glazed eyes, as if he’s in another dimension. I pull Away, gasping for breath as I take his slick cock into my hand, breaking the thick strings of spit.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” I giggle, still trying to catch my breath as I slide my hand over his length. “I just want you to cum in my mouth, okay? Can you do that for me?” I hum as I place his tip between my lips, licking lightly. Jimmys eyes flutter as he groans, watching me rub him over my lips.

“Jesus Christ,” is all he manages to groan before he’s thrusting back into my mouth. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his climax. Jimmy is a cursing, sweaty mess as his cock twitches on my tongue before shooting his sticky release down my throat. I moan at the sensation as he pulls out, falling limp against the wall. “Come here,” he pants out, barely audible as he grabs me up off the floor, pulling me into a wet sloppy kiss. I grin against his lips as hands move to the buttons on my shorts.

“Uh uh,” i tisk as i slap his hands away. He looks at me confused. “This was my payment to you,” I smile as I fix my outfit.

“And Im more than grateful,” he chuckles as he pulls his pants back up. “But id like to return the favor, doll,” he smirks as he reaches out to try to pull my into his arm. I step the side before turning to leave.

“Oh you don’t have time Jimmy. I think Maggie’s looking for you,” I smirk before giving him a peck on the cheek. I can feel his gaze burning into my back I was down the rickety steps and out of the tent.

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Misunderstandings Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 ~

NSFW

Crocodile X Fem Reader

“This isn’t our room,” You mutter as you sit on the bed of a suite Crocodile had led you too. It was much less charming than the penthouse you have lived in for the past year or so.

Crocodile shrugs off his fur coat while blowing smoke in your direction, “That’s because they’re probably raiding our place right now.” His words were tired at the thought of having the clean up a mess but your heart pounded when you heard him use the word our. “Now Princess. Do you want to explain to me why you caused a scene today?” His voice changed to that of amusement and annoyance.

You flop onto the bed, turning your face to bury it into the comforter, “You wanna explain who that hussy is?” You knew back-talking him wasn’t the smartest idea but your frustration and anger were still alive and well even if your body had become tired. “I thought you were replacing me.” The pout came out with a small whimper as you kick off your shoes before curling your legs onto the bed.

You felt the bed dip on either side of you, and see his good arm support himself next to your head. “You think I’d want someone who doesn’t even know how to dress herself properly?” The accusatory tone came out with a huff of disbelief and you can’t help but smile a bit as you turn to face him. His hook was loosening his tie as he looks down at you, “Who do you think I am? I’d never replace a precious jewel,” He mutters placing a kiss on your temple.

Still pouting you decide to push him a little more, “You didn’t call this entire time.” He looks down at you and you feel some tears brim your eyes that you try to blink away. He switches arms, letting his hand brush your cheek and a thumb wipe a tear away as he kisses your other temple.

“I was on a mission Princess… Any contact with you could’ve put you in danger.” The sweet words run through your ears and you had to admit the more he said the happier you felt, you nuzzle your face into his hand. And despite your high emotions you couldn’t help but to lick his hand daring him to go further. Seeing you calm down, and feeling the mischievous invitation, he leans in closer to your ear, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you acted on the floor you Brat.” Your ears tingle at his sharp tone as you bare your neck to him out of habit, “Don’t pretend to be a good girl now.” He nips at your neck, trailing down until he’s at your dress line.

Crocodile sits up and you smirk up at him, “I plead my innocence. I was a single lady when I did such things.”

His brow furrows at you, “Oh? Then perhaps I should train you rather than punish you.” His words make your heart skip a beat. You know the difference well enough when it comes to Crocodile, it’s the difference between pain and release or hours of begging and pleading.

He stands up, shrugging off his vest, and you watch as he delicately puts it to the side, only sparing you a small glance, “W-wait. I’m sorry.” Crocodile doesn’t say anything as he sits down in a chair across the room, “Sir, I didn’t mean it,” You stand up and saunter over to Crocodile, trying to choose the lesser of the two punishments.

He hums, taking a long drag of his cigar while staring at you, “So you know what you did was wrong?” You kneel down between his legs, nodding your head before resting it on his knee, looking up with pleading eyes. He runs his hand through your hair before gripping it, pulling you up. You quickly place your hands on his knees to support yourself as the dull ache of your scalp brings your attention fully to crocodile. “Take off your dress and bend over my knee Princess.” His words blowing smoke into your face before he releases your hair.

You barely catch yourself before standing back up, your back turned to Crocodile as you slide each strap off your shoulders. You glance behind you, slowly turning to face him before peeling the dress off, your breasts bouncing slightly as they’re released from the tight fabric. You bend down, further pushing the dress off before stepping out of it entirely, his eyes taking in every inch of you. You take a step towards him before you stop, “Do you want me naked sir?” You timidly ask, slowly moving your hands to the edge of your panties.

Crocodile seems to consider your question for a second before patting his leg. You nod your head before bending over his knees, adjusting your boobs underneath you before bracing your hands on his thigh. You feel the tip of his hook caress your back before dipping below you neck, sweeping all your hair to one side. His hand rubbing gentle circles on your ass. “Now Princess, what are you sorry for?” His voice is accompanied by a harsh grasp,

“I’m sorry for causing a scene in front of your guests,” Your hands grip his thigh, waiting for an impact, but instead you feel a hook under your chin, tilting your head up to make eye contact.

“What else?” He hooks a finger under your waistband, slowly pulling it up. You gasp at the feeling, lifting your ass to relieve the pressure.

“S-saying I was single,” He hums, releasing your panties with a snap. You let out a small squeal before feeling a hard slap against your ass, “O-One. Thank you Sir.”

“Good girl, I see you haven’t forgotten your manners” He gently kneads your ass to comfort the rough sting, and just as the pain went away another loud slap came. You yelp out, counting as you do. Another comes swiftly after, harder than the last two that makes tears comes to your eyes. You quickly let out the number three along with a thank you.

Another 4 spanks have you crying outright. But it’s the 8th slap that causes you to lose your grip, falling forward, hair a mess as you let out a sob. “Have you learned your lesson, Princess?” Crocodile muses above you, trailing his fingers up and down your spine in a comforting motion.

The throbbing pain only adding to your pleasure as you nod your head begging him to forgive you. He gently places his hand on the red skin, kneading circles to help with blood flow, as he watches your body shake. “Lay on the bed,” His sultry deep voice had you standing up on unsteady legs before doing as your told.

You look up from your position and watch as Crocodile slowly undresses, folding his clothes and placing them on the chair as he goes. He glances over at you, “Prepare yourself Princess.” You reach down to take your panties off, noticing how wet you had become in the movement as you spread your legs and reach down.

Sliding a finger around your own clit before sliding it over your entrance. You bite your lip to hold back any needy noise you could make as you slide two fingers in right away, raising your hips slightly to try and reach deeper inside yourself. Your other hand fondling and gripping your breast. Curling your fingers to try and hit the perfect spot, letting out a small whine at how empty you still feel.

Your let your eyes wander over your lovers’ body, noticing his standing erection as he watches you. You meet his gaze and feel yourself throb around your fingers at the darkened eyes turned towards you. “C-crocodile Please. I want something bigger,” his eyes flashes over your body with a smirk playing on his lips before he kneels on the bed.

“Not even asking properly Princess? That’s not how I taught you,” He tugs at your wrist between your thighs, your fingers leaving the warm space with a string of slick still connected to the entrance. He brings your coated fingers up to his lips, licking you clean as you moan at the sight. It’s only when he’s fully tasted you that he glances up at your eyes, “Well? If you ask politely, I may reward you.”

You brush you hand against his shoulder, your fingers tips ghosting over his chest, “Please Sir, I want to be filled by you ‘till I can’t think anymore.” He grunts in approval, positioning him self at your throbbing entrance, you try to inch closer to the pressure you love.

“Impatient, I see,” Gripping your thigh as he pushes into you at a torturously slow rate. You moan at the feeling of being filled but slowly your breath hitches, “Did you forget how big I was Princess?” Crocodiles teasing laugh rings through your ears as you stretch wider, “Didn’t you touch yourself while I was away?”

Your hands grasp at his shoulder, pulling his chest closer to you as you take his length. “It never feels good without you,” You whimper, burying you face into the crook of his neck. You whimper quickly changes to a full-blown cry as Crocodile thrusts his hips to be flush against you. You wrap your arms around his neck as your body shakes into his body.

His hooked hand snakes behind your back, pulling you closer to him as his fingers brush through your hair, sitting up while shushing you with sweet words of encouragement and praise for taking all of him. It isn’t until Crocodile makes sure your ready that he starts to rock in and out of you.

You eventually gain the courage to meet his thrusts, bouncing on your knees slowly while Crocodile places gentle kisses along your neck, praising every moan that escapes your lips. The stretch of your pussy taking all of Crocodile being an addicting burning pain that you try to burn into your mind as you roll your hips to feel him as different angles.

It's when you started to feel the pressure building that you heard the Den-den Mushi ring. You whimper slightly, knowing Crocodile won’t let up his pace as he reaches over to answer the call. You can hear talk of a hostage situation gone wrong and business partners willing to agree to anything, but frustration grows in you as Crocodile stops stroking your back with his hook, instead leaning onto the bed while continuing the call, still maintaining his pace in you without a though.

Shame leaving your clouded mind, you start to moan loudly and without restraint, picking up your own movements as you feel his chests and stomach, his dry scarred skin sending tingles through your fingertips. Crocodile flashes you a warning glare that you decide to ignore when you lean down and lick at his adams apple, nipping slightly at the sensitive skin of his throat.

You hear the click of the den-den mushi before your head is ripped away from him neck, the sting of the hair pull only making your mind go crazy, “Did you forget your manners here too? That was an important call Princess.” His gruff tone was music to your ears before he shoved his tone down your throat, his hooked arm keeping you in place as he pounds into you at an insane pace.

The pressure building and the lack of air making you crazy, you feel yourself tighten around his dick before he rips you off his lap entirely, pushing you to the ground. You whimper at the lack of an orgasm as you reposition yourself between his legs, relaxing your jaw as much as possible before he shoves your head around his throbbing member.

“Only good girls get to cum darling,” Your tongue flattened as much as possible as you feel him hitting the back of your throat, spit overflowing your mouth with each movement. You hum as a weak apology around him while you grip his thighs to try and stay steady.

There is no warning while he slams your head down, not letting you come up as his warm cum hits your throat. You try to relax as much as possible before he pulls out, pumping a couple more spurts onto your extended tongue before you close your mouth, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth before swallowing, savoring the salty flavor before showing him you’ve swallowed everything.

His hook under your chin as some spit from before if still dripping and tears staining your face while he looks pleased at the sight in front of him. “Is this what you wanted? It’s not much of a punishment if you wanted it princess.”

“I’ve missed you so much, I couldn’t help myself,” You whine out, hoping he won’t actually punish you.

“I guess I have neglected my pet recently…” He hums in agreeance as his thumb cleans your face slightly, “Why don’t we wait until you’ve fully calmed down before continuing?” His almost gentle voice brings you back, to your slightly dizzy tired state, “Miss. All-Sunday didn’t cut you off and you haven’t a single tolerance to allow you to drink that much.” His hushed tones now slightly scolding you as he pulls you onto the bed.

“Only cause I saw you next to that girl,” You pout slightly, “Get rid of me before finding someone else, it’s too painful to watch.”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier? I could never replace you, Princess.” You let a small smile fall on your lips at hearing the words escape him, but still stay silent. His sighs next to you, “I can’t promise I won’t do something similar in the future. But I’ll at least let you know before hand alright?” You let out a dissatisfied hum while he rubs your back.

“Only if you let me choose the girl next time. This one was too haughty to be by your side,” He sighs at your demand but agrees.

[occasionallycoinpin]

Occasionally Coinpin 100

A million beautiful stars in the sky,

Yet you’re the only one that catches my eye

yapping down below

putting this at the top so people actually read it: occasionally coinpin will be going on a short break! don’t worry, not a multi-month hussie-tier hiatus or anything, just a couple days for me to catch my breath, and then ocp will be back in full swing. doing anything for three months straight will tire you out (plus i’ve started getting this weird cramp in my arm so :p)

i feel as though 3 months isn’t really enough time to start getting sentimental. but, 100 is a big milestone, we’re out of the double digits, so i’ll say something at least

when i first started this little side blog, i didn’t really think anyone would pay attention to it. clearly, the (currently) 235 of you disagree with that notion. knowing that ive given at least one person, let alone hundreds, a smile on their face is one of the best feelings in the world, and i’m so grateful for everyone who’s supported this little project of mine

whether you’ve been here since the single digits, or if you just showed up right now, thanks for giving my silly drawings the time of day

here’s to 100 more coinpins 🥂

now with the sappy stuff outta the way, its time for some ocp fun factz™️!

The current OCP with the most notes is OCP 94 (“spahc”), which recently beat out both OCP 76 (“Pride”) and OCP 78 (“Mario Party”). I’m not sure how to feel about this

OCP 70 (“Detachment”) was originally supposed to be a continuation of the previous two (do the math). Pin was going to scare Coiny with… something, but I couldn’t get the joke to land the way I wanted it to, so I scrapped it and went with something based on BFDIA 12 instead

The longest gap between Fear Garden posts was between OCP 62 (“Vessel Reveal”) and OCP 99 (“I.D.F.B.”) with a gap of 36. The shortest was between (most of) the posts for FG week, in which OCP 55 (“Hi Scarlet”) to OCP 60 (“Fear the Garden”) were all posted back-to-back for a gap of 0

Speaking of Fear Garden, while I said OCP 8 (“Remembrance”) was the reread edition, I had actually reread FG sometime before that point. In fact, that reread was what inspired me to make Occasionally Coinpin in the first place! Thanks, Ice

you may have noticed that i’ve been referring to the ocps using titles here. i recently (last night) decided to retroactively give all of them titles. as a nice little bonus for every hundred milestone, i’ll drop the ocp titles as a bonus :)

have a good day, and a good night

[retrospacejelly]

A Western Tension

Pairing: Ex-outlaw!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: While eating a homemade meal in what feels like ages, Miguel learns about Y/N’s rocky past.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Guns, Mentions of the devil’s tango, typical cowboy things, language

Part: 2/?

Part: 1, 2, 2 1/2, 3

Not proofread

A/N: This is part two of A Western Romance! I had this idea brewing for a while, and character AI helped push the plot!  (Thank you Monstera for letting me expand on the plot!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once inside her small home, she sets the clothes basket by the kitchen table. She pats her hands on her skirt, “I have Chili Verde that’s still warm. That work for ya?” she asks, walking towards the pot sitting over a small fire.

“Yes ma’am” is his reply, walking over to the washbin, wiping them with a cloth draped against its side. He then sits at the table, looking around. He notices the pictures framed on the wall. Your family, it looks like. And, no spouse. He smiles to himself.

His gaze goes over to where Y/N stands over the pot, scooping the meal into a bowl. 

“Smells damn good, sugar.”

“Why thank you.” She pauses after setting the bowl down with a spoon in front of him. “I never did catch your name by the way…”

He gives a nod, just now realizing he never got yours too. He lets out a small cough. 

“It’s Miguel. Miguel O’Hara,” he says. He takes a breath, hoping you don’t recognize the name.

She nods. “O’Hara…Irish father?”

He nods as he takes a spoonful of food. Y/N sits down in the chair next to his, resting her head in her hand. 

“Yeah, him an’ his family migrated hear years before I was born. He fell in love with my mother, a maid on his father’s ranch.”

Y/N smiles softly as he recalls his parents' past. 

“However, I get my physical attributes from my mother’s side. Tall, dark an’ handsome. You know the deal.”

She chuckles at his words, shaking her head. “Yea, handsome. I got that.”

And suddenly, “Bet ya got a nice little wife to run home to then, huh?”. 

…

She covers her mouth, surprised at her sudden comment. Looking at her through his dark lashes, he chuckles quietly.

“You tryin’ to ask me somethin’? But no, Babydoll. I’m as free as a bird. Never really one to settle down.”

“Mn, that’s what my father said. Now he’s living out his days on a nice chunk a’ land. Lovin' up on my mother.”

He takes another bite of food, shrugging.

“He’s one of the lucky ones. Plenty a’ fellas out there that don’t get lucky ‘nough to find a nice lady to settle down with. End up bein’ lonely, and stuck with someone they can’t stand till death do ‘em part.”

Y/N stays silent for a moment, taking in his words. She can’t help but let her shoulders sag.

“Yea, heard that too many times.”

Miguel notices her change in appearance but chooses to not bring it up. “What about you, huh? Got a beau, Sugar?”

She sits up, not meeting his gaze. “Well, I did. But the coward ran off with some Hussy after I pulled a gun on ‘em. Found out real quick that sleeping with another woman was the biggest mistake of his life.”

Well. So much for not bringing it up.

He laughs loudly, amused by your confession. “Someone sure is a real firecracker, huh?”

“How would you feel if the supposed love of your life was beddin’ another? And in your bedroom no less!” She exclaims.

He doesn’t seem fazed by her outburst. “I’d be angry, sure, but I don’t know if I’d go as far as to pull my gun on ‘em for it. I’m not as hot-headed as you, darlin’ “.

She rolls her eyes, “Not all people are lucky to have good looks.”

Miguel gives her a look, his eyes narrowing. “What’s that got to do with any o’ this, Baby doll?”

She looks down, now clasping her hands together. The smooth grooves of the wooden table suddenly became very intriguing. 

“I didn’t really care much about my appearance growing up. My father grew up with no sisters and six brothers, so he was a little lost when it came to raisin’ me. Still wanting to be involved in my life, he raised me like he would a boy, so dresses ‘n frilly lace never piqued my interest.”

She takes a breath, continuing. 

“That no good cheater, Thomas, was a ranch hand for my father and the only other kid my age. We have been pretty much friends since childhood. When we turned eighteen years of age, he professed his love for me and proposed.” She smiles sadly. 

“I was over the moon. I was certain no man would ever look my way, ya know, with the way I dressed and acted. And after…after he cheated and I ran him out my home after I started dressin’ in dresses ‘n bein’ more ladylike, I have yet to find myself a good husband. I put walls ‘round me for a reason. Women don’t like getting their hearts hurt.”

Miguel’s expression softens, wanting nothing more than to hold you close. You poor thing. He thought you were breathtaking. He liked that you could fend for yourself. He reaches for her hand, taking it into his own. She sucks in a breath.

“So, you’re jaded from that. Ya got your walls up, and you expect men to show up and climb over ‘em to try and get to you.”

She laughs, sadly. “None of ‘em try anyhow.” 

“Looks ain’t everythin’ Baby doll. Just cause some fella’s easy on the eyes, doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy. Can’t always judge a man just by lookin’ at ‘em. You gotta give ‘em a chance.

Y/N nods, not pulling away from his touch. “Same goes for us ladies too. Guess word of me pullin’ a gun on an unfaithful man scared the rest off.”

He snorts, tilting his head. “Probably did. Not many men want to tangle with a wildcat like you, honey.”

Wanting to continue the conversation, Y/N closes her mouth, just now realizing how tired she’s become. She smiles. “I’ll show ya’ to your room if you’re done eating.”

Surprised by the sudden change in topic, he quietly nods and brings the now-empty bowl and spoon to a different wash basin where other dishes sit soaking in the water. 

She starts towards the guest bedroom, and he follows close behind her. Stopping in front of a door, she turns to look up at him. 

“Here’s the room. If you need to relieve yourself, there’s a bathhouse just at the end o’ the hall.”.

Miguel opens the door, scanning the room. “Pretty bare, but I guess Il’ do.” he jokes, looking back at her.

Y/N smiles at his joke, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Glad it works for ya. ‘Night.” she says, turning to retire to her own room. His smile falls, itching to reach out to her. 

“Hold on one second, Lil’ Miss. You ain’t just gonna turn ‘round an’ walk away from now, are ya?”. 

She sighs dramatically, “Oh I usually wouldn’t leave ya on your lonesome, but you have work to do tomorrow. Ya ain’t outta the woods yet.” she replies snarkily.

He smirks. “Oh, I ain’t too worried ‘bout fixin’ up that fence o’ yours. We still got plenty o’ time tonight, Princessa.”. He takes a step forward, leaning in. “Why you tryna avoid me all o’ sudden, hm?”

Y/N’s face flushes, and she can’t meet his gaze. “I jus’ want to retire for the night. Problem?”.

“Ya’ sure ‘bout that, sugar?”

She nods quickly, “Pretty positive.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You are on stubborn thing, ain’t ya?”. He leans in more, practically chest to chest with Y/N. She can feel his breath on her lips. His…very…kissable lips…

Without a word, she steps back and turns, quickly walking to her room. Before she shuts the door, he speaks again.

“Where you goin’ darlin’? Weren’t you sayin’ you were aimin’ to get some sleep?”

She lets out a huff. “Yeah, in my room.” The sound of her door slamming shut echoes throughout the hallway.

______________________________________________________________

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@codenameredkrystalmatrix

[holylulusworld]

The one that got away (4)

Summary: Your best friend breaks your heart.

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, past unrequited feelings, regret, reunion, naughty Dean, implied innocent reader, possessive Dean, tension

A/N: I'm a tease...

Catch up here: The one that got away (3)

The one that got away masterlist

“You won’t kiss any part of me,” you shove him away. “Get off me! I’m not some random hussy you can bang in the backseat of your car. Even if it’s Baby.”

“I was an idiot, okay!” He throws his hands up in surrender. Dean watches you, waiting for you to disagree. The minutes tick by but you remain silent.

You cross your arms over your chest and purse your lips. “If you are waiting for me to disagree with you, this is going to be a fucking long day.”

He cocks a brow. “Maybe I was an idiot back then, but I know better now. Give me the chance to take you on a date. Come on,” he steps closer again to tickle your sides, making you giggle. “One date, sweetheart. I swear I’ll behave and won’t try to kiss you.”

“Pinky promise?” You hold out your finger, waiting for Dean to return the gesture.

“That’s…” He snickers. “So cute you remember!” Dean gives you a pinky promise but crosses his fingers behind his back. “I won’t try to kiss your lips.”

“Good,” you quip. “If you promise to behave, we can have dinner. I know this nice little restaurant. They have pie for dessert too.”

“PIE?” His eyes lit up. “I love me some pie.” Dean smiles as you remember his love for pie. “Let’s go! They have pie!”

“Dean,” you laugh. “Slow down. You’ll get a slice of pie. Please don’t total your car for pie.”

“She still purrs,” you squeal when Dean drives a little faster. “Aw, pretty girl sounds like a young cat, not an old lady.”

“Baby is not an old lady,” he grumbles. “She’s a classic car, sweetheart. Never call her old again.”

“I wouldn’t dare call her old,” you smirk and look out of the window. “I remember the first time you offered a ride to me. You were so excited and giddy like a little boy.” You sigh deeply. “I felt so special because I was the first girl you offered a ride. But the next day, some other girl sat in the passenger seat. I knew then that I wasn’t special at all. Just one of the girls you drove around town.”

“Y/N, you were the first girl I offered a ride. You were special to me back then. I was too chicken to admit that I wanted more from you than friendship.”

“You weren’t afraid to ask the other girls out, Dean. Don’t try to fool me. Back then I was a naïve young girl who was head over heels for her best friend. I’m a woman now, and know a little more about life, and men.”

“Sweetheart, I regret that I rejected you back then. I understand that you still hold a grudge. Please believe me, if I could turn back time, I would tell you that I feel the same and make you scream my name in the backseat of my car.”

He grins when you punch his upper arm. “Asshole.”

“Guilty,” Dean laughs and moves his hand to your thigh to squeeze it. “I would’ve made sweet love to you on a bed first.” He purrs. “Slow and gentle.”

You swallow thickly. Dean still can make you squirm. “I never said I want you to make sweet love to me.” 

He squares his jaw but doesn’t say a thing. Dean made a promise to himself years ago. If he ever meets you again, you’ll be his girl.

“We will see,” he hums to himself and bobs his head to the song on the radio. “I bet you’ll be putty in my hands.”

“You were right,” Dean moans deeply. “The food is great.” He shoves a spoonful of food into his mouth. “I love it here. After everything is settled and I find an apartment, I’ll make this place my favorite restaurant.”

You choke on the food. “You want to move to town?”

“Oh, did I not tell you that your company hired me?” He grins and winks at you. “I was here for the conference. I had a job interview and they wanted me to join the conference to get to know my new colleagues and work field.”

“You bastard,” you slap his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me so?”

“I wanted to have dinner with you first and talk about my job later,” he shrugs. “You never asked why I was at the conference. I didn’t think it was important.”

“Dean, it is important if you live in the same town and work at my company. You just came back out of nowhere and now…” you wring your hands. All the feelings for Dean you suppressed for so long come crashing down on you again. “How shall this work?”

“We work together, and I can drive you home after work. You and I can have dinner. Maybe you invite me over to eat your sweet pussy.”

“What?” You cough and look around the restaurant. “Dean! You can’t say things like that in public.”

“Well then, let’s go somewhere private, Y/N,” he dips his head to look you up and down in your business outfit. “I’d love to get you out of those pants and your blouse.”

“Winchester,” you lean closer to place your hand on his thigh, squeezing hard, “you won’t get into my pants so easily. No man made me fall for him. Your charm doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“Sweetheart,” he covers your hand and squeezes it, “we both know that you are going home with me tonight…”

Part 5

Tags in reblog.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Idk if anyone asked you this, but what's your take on the alpha kids?

I have a feeling that the alpha kids were a bit rushed? Especially Jane! (because of the trickster stuff + her being controlled by the Condesce) And the problem Dirk and Jake had was resolved so quickly that idk, it didn't feel natural to me??

ANYWAYS, I just want to know your thoughts on the alpha kids and how they would work things out and everything! :)

Less "rushed" and more "literally unfinished" imo - the same with almost all of the rest of the cast. They do get themselves into drama a lot faster than the beta kids do, but by that point in the comic, we kind of Get It, y'know? We did the song and dance already with the beta kids and trolls, there's no real reason to draw it out.

That being said, I do think if I had any major writing critique for Homestuck - like if I were being paid to edit it professionally for some sort of hypothetical director's cut - then it would be to have the alpha kids have more of a presence through acts 1-5, even if not necessarily the alpha kids exactly. More stuff like Jake sending John a happy birthday letter. Bro Strider/Momlonde/Nannasprite remain mysterious and vague in ways I think don't necessarily contribute to the story; it'd be neat, for example, for Rose to have stumbled upon some of her Mom's writings from when she was a kid, or for some second avatar of Bro in the form of a programmed robot to heckle Dave and foreshadow Dirk's splintered self/HAL.

This isn't to say I think Hussie did a BAD job, it's just going to be an issue with serial works in general - the alpha kids, their personalities, and their drama were not fully developed, if at all, at the time that the guardians were introduced, so there are things that Act 1-4 Hussie literally could not have written in that Act 5-6 Hussie probably would've. Hence, this would be a change to make in a theoretical director's cut; adding more alpha kid presence in Acts 1-4 makes it so we have to play less catch-up when the alpha kids are properly introduced.

As for how their arcs resolve... or, rather, literally don't resolve. Well, I personally believe that everything after Game Over is a heavily truncated version of the ending that was originally intended, and the alpha kids - along with most of the other characters - were kind of at the low points of their respective character arcs when Condy showed up and shit went south, and never really get the chance to pull themselves out. So, y'know, I personally believe the original ending would have had... more of that. I'm realizing now that, with the way retcon/dream/etc. mechanics work, it's totally possible for Roxy to have made a Choice with Nyx to die, but transfer her memories to an earlier version of herself, and for (Dirk) to finally make it out of the Furthest Ring to arrive in a completely different timeline. and it would be really funny

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Chapter 5

Masterlist HERE.

"We hope each soul will find

Around and inside

Another soul to love

Let this be our prayer

Let this be our prayer, just like every child

Need to find a place, guide us with your grace

Give us faith so we'll be safe"

Avery Wilson & Candace Boyd—"The Prayer"

Yani held onto the hand of her baby sister Anika, as her middle sister Dawnette gushed over meeting Tahir. Anika told their entourage of women—Twyla, Zola, Ilana—the story of Killmonger and Tahir spending the night at their Aunt Leona's cramped apartment when she was sixteen and impressionable. But now that she was in her early twenties and legal, she had the right of first dibs on the handsome foreigner to Wakanda.

They entered the banquet venue's snazzy restroom where a full sitting room/powder room was set up before one even made it to the restrooms in a separate section. Checking their make-up and showering the room with their loud gossip over men and available bachelors, Yani noticed Ime in a corner with four other women seated on plush chairs chatting. Anika and Dawnette followed Twyla into the restroom to relieve themselves of wine and other spirits passed around for the after dessert libations. Yani took note of a few other noblewomen clucking together in their various groupings parceled about using wall mirrors to fix hair, and check make-up.

It was obvious that women snuck glances at Yani and she smiled while passing others to get to Ime.

"Princess Yani," Ime said.

Ime stood quickly and her friends did too, showing Yani respect.

"Leave us please…I would like to speak with Ime," Yani said.

Zola and Ilana walked away and kept watch over her for any intrusions.

"Shall we chat for a moment?" Yani said.

Ime nodded and Yani led her to some chairs in a corner that faced away from the other women in the room giving them some privacy.

"I wanted to talk to you about our relationship going forward. After I marry King N'Jadaka, I will be having a series of special events throughout Birnin Zana. Private teas, luncheons, and of course, the Queen's Ball. You and I will see a lot of each other because of Ramatla's position working for my husband."

"Of course."

Ime's voice was sweet as pie, but Yani wasn't keen on her maintaining a façade any longer.

"I know you don't like me. No need for us to pretend that you give a fuck about what I think about you."

Ime's eyes widened and several women within hearing distance moved away quickly to avoid catching strays. Hushed voices spread throughout the powder room and every woman not connected to Yani or Ime vacated the premises immediately. Zola and Ilana strolled over to the restroom toilet entrance to provide interference in case their party came out.

Ime pulled her shoulders back and lifted her head higher. She regarded Yani as a worthy adversary. Her mask fell away.

"It is true. I do not like you. You aren't fit to be queen—"

"You uncouth bitch!" Zola snapped.

Ilana held Zola back.

"I'm a bitch?" Ime said, slanting her gaze toward Zola. "You disloyal witches were so quick to scuttle over to her side that you threw away years of our friendship…and for what? A chance to be around the king?"

Yani glanced at Zola and Ilana. Ime craned her neck back and folded her arms over her chest. Her gaze burned into Yani's face.

"Do you know how many eligible women here that are better than you who would kill to have N'Jadaka Udaku?" Ime said.

"I know you are one of them," Yani said.

Ime didn't flinch. Her lips twisted into a devilish smirk.

"You are damn right. I was one of those women. Had you or that other one not showed up, I'd be in your place right now."

"Listen to this hussy!" Zola hissed.

Yani held up her hand to silence Zola.

Twyla, Anika and Dawnette wandered back in.

"What's going on?" Twyla asked, quickly sizing up the tension.

"Twyla, would you mind taking my sister's back to our party? I need to talk to Lady Ime in private," Yani said.

Twyla took the hint and gathered up the younger women toward the exit. Zola and Ilana followed behind to block anyone else from entering. Yani leaned her left arm over her right on the armrest and crossed her legs.

"I will be queen soon, so any dreams or aspirations you bad minded bitches had about N'Jadaka are over fuh good. I'll fuck up anyone who tries tuh come for we…even Remy."

Ime huffed and jumped to her feet. Yani's chest burned. She took her time standing up like a powerful royal woman with the highest status in the land shared with her man.

"This hatred yuh have in your heart…keep it or throw it away. I don't care. You mean nothing to me. However, we both have a duty to our country—"

"You are not a real Wakandan, Yani Galiber. You are a fake. A blight on the bloodline. You think your position is safe just because you will marry him tomorrow? Hmmph. Then you don't truly know the history of Udaku men. They have an appetite…a lust for life that you could never satisfy as an outsider. No Wakandan man in his right mind would see you as any kind of prize."

"Well, your man has a taste for me, so I can't be all that bad."

Ime's eyes narrowed and her right hand went up high to strike Yani.

"Ime stop!"

Remy's voice rattled them both. He grabbed Ime's arm and pulled her away before her hand connected with Yani's face.

"My apologies Princess Yani. She has disrespected you and I am…embarrassed by this."

Ime snatched her arm away. Her cold eyes had gone beyond jealous hatred. There was envious murder lodged in them too. Yani took a step back sensing an uncontrollable rage flowing through her nemesis. Remy struggled to get Ime's hand back down to her side. She stuck a finger in Yani's direction.

"You aren't special. He will get bored with you…you are nothing like us…"

Ime vomited hatred with her words, and Yani stood strong with a half smile on her face, allowing the woman to get everything off of her chest right then and there. Had Yani worn her finger armor that night, there would've been deep bloody holes in Ime's face. She kept a rigid posture despite her blood pressure going up. A physical entanglement would only fuel the fire of other nobles who felt the same as Ime. Her throat tightened and she parceled her words carefully. Yani's mind screamed to revoke Ime's wedding invitation, but she wanted the woman to watch her nuptials and squirm about it. Diplomacy and tact were the order of the evening.

"Lady Ime, I appreciate your honesty. You have never minced your words, so I will not run around the bush with mine. King N'Jadaka and I are one blade."

Ime's eyes narrowed hearing the euphemism. Remy watched Yani's face with an apprehensive expression. Had it been a club in St. Thomas back when she kept a reckless mouth, Yani would not hesitate to let all of the noble women know she was a good pussy gyal. They way N'Jadaka carried on in her pum pum was all the evidence she needed. The elites could come for Yani all they wanted, but that bad man from the hill wasn't going anywhere.

She took a step forward and Remy repositioned his left foot in front of the tips of her shoes to create a barrior between the two women. Biting back the rancor in her throat and the urge to call Ime a heavy-tongued cow foot whore, she opted to act her position.

"Your campaign to vilify me or make me feel less worthy of the throne has failed. You can't have N'Jadaka, so you go for Remy. The way I hear it, you backstabbed your best friend to get him…so if I were you Ime, I would worry about repairing my social reputation instead of coming for a queen. Good luck with this one, Remy. It's a pity that your family settled for this waste gyal as your future wife—"

Ime lunged for Yani. Remy became a shield. He hugged Yani and protected her body from Ime's attack. Ilana and Zola rushed over and yanked Ime into a corner, pushing her back against a wall mirror. They shoved her shoulders and cursed in her face to keep her from going up against Yani again.

"Please forgive her…I'm sorry for everything," Remy pleaded.

He held Yani's shoulders and she could feel his warm breath blow across her lips. From the reflection in the mirror behind him, Yani noticed N'Jadaka walking in with Twyla. Remy's hands dropped away from her body quickly, but N'Jadaka saw it all. Ilana rushed to the king's side and whispered something to him before he reached their side of the powder room. He moved like a stalking cat toward Ime afterward, ignoring Remy and Yani completely. Zola stepped to the side giving N'Jadaka space. Ime cowered before the man she desired above all others.

Everyone remained silent. N'Jadaka's smoldering presence held them all in a chokehold. Ime trembled.

"Look at me," N'Jadaka commanded.

Ime turned her head to the side and refused to do so. N'Jadaka crowded her body and Yani knew exactly how that felt up close. The heat. The crackling energy. The sexual prowess. It was too much to process all at once, and for a mere second, Yani pitied Ime. Her greatest desire was right in front of her and she couldn't even look at him.

"Don't make me repeat myself."

"King N'Jadaka, I beg…let me remove her from your presence. She has been drinking—"

"Do you have permission to speak to me?"

N'Jadaka didn't bother to look at Remy. His voice boomed and the message was received.

Stand down.

Ime lifted her head. Watery eyes peered at the king.

"I don't normally get into women's business, but I warned you once about bothering her, so now I will give you a choice. Get on your knees in front of her and beg forgiveness for your insolence or I will strip you from your title and make life hell for your entire family."

Ime jammed her back against the mirror with horror dripping from her eyes.

"She accosted me…I was minding my own business with friends," Ime whined.

"Ime…just do it. Stop making this worse for yourself. If you have no title, we cannot marry," Remy said.

The tears fell then. Ime wiped at her eyes as if her own body betrayed her. Yani slipped her hand around N'Jadaka's.

"Let it be. She's drunk and we know how powerful the drinks have been tonight. We need to leave for rest. Our wedding will be here soon, king," Yani said.

Mercy.

That is what Yani gave Ime. Although it would've been a sight to see Ime groveling at her feet, Yani wanted to be above the woman in the best way. Knowing N'Jadaka showed his trump card, she doubted Ime would get out of line ever again. The threat of losing a title was worse than going to hell in Wakanda.

The king allowed Yani to lead him away from Ime, and Remy rushed to her side, throwing an arm around his fiancé's waist. He guided her quivering form away from certain banishment. Twyla wandered over.

"Gossip has already spread outside. When you walk out of here, look cheerful like nothing happened," Twyla said.

Strolling hand-in-hand with Twyla cracking a joke, they left the powder room laughing. Their performance was good enough to get them past a few people, but it was clear the mood had shifted in the banquet room toward her. The upper class were shook to their core. No one was safe if the king jumped for Yani like that in public.

Yani gathered up her children with Leona and Dante's help, and they all bid farewell to the hosts and their dinner companions from the center table. Couples were still dancing and liquor still flowed and would do so into the night. Nobles from all the tribes rushed up to Yani and wished her a good evening, hoping that she graced them with her sweet voice and a smile. N'Jadaka shook hands and accepted congratulations for their upcoming nuptials once more. She waved at her favorite people throughout the banquet room while Zola and Ilana stayed close with her sisters in tow.

N'Jadaka held Yani's and Joba's hand until they were outside the venue boarding a different vehicle with the children by themselves. Yani turned on the sound-proof barrier for the back seat where Joba, Riki, and Sydette sat comfortably, their eyes drowsy from all the activity of the day. They spoke freely without their driver and guard hearing.

"I'm glad you didn't fight her physically," N'Jadaka said.

"Me too. It wouldn't be a good look for us, no matter how much she deserved to get boxed. She knows where I stand. That's the important thing when dealing with a yamhead gyal."

"Remy has a problem on his hands."

"You do too."

"How's that?"

Yani leaned into him and held onto his arm.

"According to her, you were supposed to be her betrothed if I hadn't showed up in Wakanda. Remy was her back up consolation prize."

The corners of his lips went down and his brows joined in the center.

"This caste culture is very particular, very selective of whom they pair couples. The more I learn, the more I see how dangerous it was for my father to choose my mother. Sometimes I think she would've received the same treatment."

"They aren't nice about my foreignness at all in Ime's cliques. She even insinuated that Ilana and Zola only came to me to get close to you."

"We know there are advantages being around me. But those two…," He gave a casual glance to to Yani, "Their hearts are in the right place. They adore you. I know they have crushes on me, but those are just harmless feelings. Most times I have to bargain with them just to get you to myself all alone."

Yani grinned and stroked a finger up and down his chest.

"Are you still going to your bachelor party tonight?" she asked.

"It's not a party. A little get together with the fellas."

"Where will you guys go?"

"We're staying in the palace. I have some food and drinks prepared up in the salon. We'll play cards, smoke cigars…catch up with my cousins. Nothing crazy."

"Strippers?"

Yani giggled and N'Jadaka put an arm around her pulling her into his side. Her breasts mashed into his chest.

"I've seen enough naked women in my life to last me. Every color, size, and from damn near every continent. I'd get bored watching some stranger shake ass for mere entertainment with a bunch of men. Smoking, drinking and shooting the shit is all I want to do. Besides…I have the baddest woman on the planet and I'll get my own private show after we get married."

She puckered her lips and he lowered his head to brush his mouth against hers.

They arrived in the palace parking structure at a reasonable hour. N'Jadaka carried Joba and Riki, while Yani carried Sydette in her arms. Back at their home, Kora helped guide the children away from the front door in their sleepy daze toward the stairs.

"I guess we have to say goodnight here," Yani said.

She wrapped her arms around N'Jadaka's waist and he held her close.

"Yep. I say goodbye to Princess Yani forever. I'll miss her."

They locked eyes, basking in the moment together.

"Thank you for never giving up on me…even when you thought I was gone forever. Thank you for making sure our children knew about me. Thank you for being the light that brought me back to myself…the light that showed me that I could find a perfect love in paradise. You have made this imperfect man so very happy."

"Thank you for coming into my life…thank you for believing in me and making sure I was taken care of even when you thought death was a possibility for yourself. Thank you for being the love of my life…choosing our precious Sydette as your own and giving me my beautiful son. Thank you for trusting me to raise a special extra daughter too. You have made this equally imperfect woman very happy too."

"Well shit, we might as well be married now. Sounded like we said some vows," he joked.

"I know. I'm actually happy that we don't have to say a lot tomorrow. I already feel like crying…"

"Aye girl…no tears…"

Yani buried her face in his chest and wept out her happiness. He rubbed her back with loving hands and cooed in her ear soft words of love.

"You are my life, baby."

He pulled away and kissed her forehead.

"Go on now, get some beauty rest. We all get to sleep in until twelve thirty. I shouldn't even be looking at you right now. We're supposed to stay separated," he said.

She held his hands, not wanting to let him go, not wanting to part from his warmth and strength. Staring into his eyes, she luxuriated in the overpowering essence of his presence the way Ime had experienced him up close. Yani still thrilled to his energy and aura. She pulled him in for a kiss…a long one. Their heads moved from side to side and his hands palmed her backside, squeezing the heavy orbs. His tongue explored and made promises for their wedding night. He kissed her woozy and she stepped back on weak legs. Her brain felt mushy and her body tingled all over. Especially down below.

"I should go now," he said.

"Okay."

Neither one of them left the front door.

"I have to change clothes for my bachelor party," he said.

"Hmmm."

His dimples and septum ring mesmerized her. The glint of his gold panther teeth held her captive when his lips parted in a gentle smile. The king's body heat wrapped her in a cocoon of love. His too-muchness enveloped all of her senses and she suppressed the urge to look away from his face.

N'Jadaka's kimoyo beads lit up breaking the spell for Yani.

"It's Mpilo…I betta dip. Can't be late to my own gathering," he said.

Yani moved away from him knowing that if he touched her again, she would pull him into their home and up to her bed.

"Love you," he said.

She blew him a kiss and dashed inside the front door, closing it quickly. Resting her back against it, she touched her face. It was hot and a light sheen of nervous sweat covered the back of her neck. She touched her stomach to calm the butterflies there. Lord…he still made her swoon like it was their first time together.

"Are you alright, Princess Yani?"

Sindiswa, the evening attendant for their home approached Yani with concern.

"I'm fine. Can you please bring me some bria tea and chocolate biscuits to my bedroom?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Yani climbed the stairs thinking of love, family, and finally having her happy new beginning with N'Jadaka.

Sunrises in Wakanda were a stunning tapestry painted with the delicate hand of Bast.

N'Jadaka rose early before the streaks of orange, rose, pale turquoise, and magenta saturated the horizon heralding the golden return of the sun.

He bathed in a wide tub filled with oils and herbs to purify his body for marriage. The humble priest Dinani waited for him on the balcony where they prayed together in the language of Bast, the ancient tongue that supported him through his transformation on the holy mountain. Ogum stirred in his chest and quickly rose to the crown of his head where the energies of two gods merged.

The ancestors rested within him.

Dinani and N'Jadaka's former temple caretaker Ayiz'e smudged him head to toe fully nude with river sage and more prayer work. As the sun rose, he watched it golden the sky while listening to a recording of a berimbau being played by his mother and a drum pounded by his Grandpop. He prepared his mind for hours of ceremony and honed in on Ayiz'e warming up a thick glob of ceremonial body butter in her hands. The pale yellow substance melted into clear oil and she rubbed it all over him, even his locs. It smelled wonderful, like citrus and honey. She knelt down and rubbed it on his buttocks and the back of his thighs. Dinani observed the preparation making sure no spot on his body was missed. Ayiz'e started rubbing the oil on his groin and when she stroked his flaccid penis and scrotum with it, Dinani held up a tied leather bundle about seven inches long.

"Kumkani, before you consummate your union with the new queen, you must remember to give Bast an offering of your semen first. Princess Yani has been trained properly to do this with you. We would all be pleased if you conceived a new heir on this night," Dinani said.

Ayiz'e finished oiling his nutsack and the front of his legs and feet.

"He is heavy with seed. We can expect plenty of blessings in the king's future," she said.

Dinani smiled.

"This is good to hear. It has been a long time since the royal family has had a bounty of children. Bast will be pleased with our king. We shall take our leave now until we see you at the wedding temple," Dinani said.

They left the suite and an attendant brought his early morning breakfast. Pork medallions, porridge sweetened with sugared red berries, buttery biscuits and slices of fresh fruit. He ate his meal alone on the balcony, calming his mind and the wedding jitters. The eagerness to be married right away already overwhelmed him. He wished they could skip all the ceremonial work, but the new marriage had to follow ancient Udaku customs.

Belly full and mind straight, he relaxed in bed for a short respite until it was time to dress. His wedding robes were brought to him and his personal stylist helped him dress. Ayiz'e returned to twist his locs into an elaborate bun with a few strands left to fall on his shoulders. She checked the wedding clothing front to back. His black opal ceremonial robes were blacker than an inky sky at midnight, but as he moved, the robes refracted an array of colors in blue, green, and silvery gray hues that looked like tiny galaxies bursting light in deep dark space.

"He is ready," she said.

Once more, she smudged him with a different bundle of dried plants that smelled spicy and sharp in the nose. It fit his personality. He sniffed it as she passed around him.

"You recognize it?"

He shook his head.

"Bast Root. It is the plant that we used for ceremonies before vibranium fell from the sky. This plant cradled the vibranium meteor when it landed. Bast led King Bashenga to it, and soon after, a patch of it mutated into the heart-shaped herb that we cultivate today. This original plant links us to our past because the Panther Goddess led us into our future. Smudging with it calls Bast and her sisters down to be with you on this day."

"I understand," he said.

Ayiz'e left his side and he stared at himself in the mirror.

"You truly are a king."

N'Jadaka turned his head and Dante walked forward.

"Your parents are with you…they can see how handsome you look, JaJa."

"I feel them."

"They came to me in a dream last night. All I could do was tell them how excited I was to watch you marry Yani, and they looked pleased. I woke up before I could remember what they said, but I'm sure it was something like 'We love you, son.' Their faces were so shiny…so close to me that I could touch them."

Dante touched N'Jadaka's shoulder and admired his wedding garb.

"Are the guys ready?" N'Jadaka asked.

"Waiting for you at the carport. Yani and the children have already left for the temple."

He took a deep breath and checked his clothing again. Dante tapped his arm.

"Come…let's go get your wife," Dante said.

N'Jadaka walked with his grandfather out of the suite. Four Dora Milaje and six kingsguards awaited him outside. They rode a private elevator down to an underground carport where his groomsmen stood near their vehicle transports wearing custom obsidian Wakandan suits that complimented N'Jadaka's robes.

"You look clean man!" Shawn said, giving N'Jadaka dap.

"Damn, I feel like royalty too," Walter said, showing off his outfit.

Tahir wore a custom suit that incorporated his cultural heritage into the design. Mpilo grinned from ear to ear in his own attire. Bibi shook N'Jadaka's hand and congratulated him on his day.

His older cousin, Junie paraded around in his suit.

"I think I ate too much last night," Junie said, patting his stomach.

"I think that fat has always been there," Bibi joked, poking Junie's round belly.

His cousin Nevaeh hugged him. She wore a long overcoat over her covered dress and would walk as his groomswoman carrying flowers to represent Marisol's missing presence. Yani's cousin Kendall was doing the same as a bridesman filling in the gap of missing family from the Galiber side. He would escort Nevaeh down the aisle.

"How are you feeling, JaJa?" Nevaeh asked.

"The nerves are kicking in a little bit, I'm not gonna lie," he said.

She kissed his cheek and wiped away the smudge of her lipstick.

"Are you ready to leave, kumkani?" a driver asked.

"Let's rock and roll," N'Jadaka said.

They split into three cars and N'Jadaka sat next to Dante.

The streets of Wakanda were jam packed with spectators who had lined up on every avenue and street corner waiting to catch sight of the royal family. Every inch of the city looked decorated and the festive energy of the citizens forced grins on all their faces in the cars. The wedding was the celebration the country needed after a tumultuous year adjusting to life removed from the Infinity War.

He watched people dance and throw flowers at the cars as they were whisked to the heart of the golden city where the temple waited. Traffic clogged up two blocks before they arrived at their destination, and they waited patiently for the kingsguards and the royal onyx squad to make way for their cars to get through.

They crossed through the gauntlet ten minutes late, but N'Jadaka didn't care about time. He stayed in the present moment, feeling all the feelings, letting the fervor of the crowd wash through him.

The ancient temple loomed in front of them. The last time they had been there was to reunite with his parents, but that sadness didn't linger over the ancient site. It beckoned to him with an ethereal beauty and gave him the gift of peace in his heart. His parents were there waiting to watch him wed. Their spirits hovered all around him.

Their vehicles were ushered into a covered parking structure on the west side of the temple entrance where his clan and extended family convened. Umama, Ramonda, and an army of other Udaku relatives stood waiting for him and his groomsmen.

"You look amazing Umama. You too, Ramonda," he said.

He hugged as many relatives as he could before a wedding director arrived and pulled him away from Soliel, Aujannue and Serah to give final instructions. Nevaeh's mother Rolita straightened the locs that tangled on his shoulders from all the hugging. The family drummers stood nearby waiting for their cue, and the family griot, his cousin Didah, walked in front of everyone carrying a centuries old staff that was carved with family sigils of protection. She touched the top of her forehead and took a deep breath before approaching N'Jadaka. He could feel the rising energy of his family behind him.

"Cousin N'Jadaka, the temple is packed. Your grandmother has permitted some people to stand in the back, so when we go in, please keep yourself in the center behind me at all times until we reach the front. The acting griot for the Galiber clan will come in right when the last of our family has been seated."

N'Jadaka nodded. He heard Didah's words, but his body sensed the anticipation inside the temple. Somewhere on the otherside of the structure, Yani was waiting for him. His heart thudded in his chest and his hands went clammy. Umama lifted his chin with her hand.

"Breathe, grandson…that's it. Relax and breathe."

Tunnel vision and anxiety ran through him. The overstimulation forced him to gulp in air. Serah clasped his hand and his Uncle Addae slipped next to him and gripped his elbow to steady him. N'Jadaka was about to ask for a chair to sit in, but a comforting warmth spilled down from the crown of his head and flowed to his feet. He closed his eyes. Her familiar scent came down on him the way it did when he used to cook in her kitchen when he was a little boy. Florida water.

Nana Jean.

"I'm glad you're here too," he whispered under his breath.

He knew his great-grandmother always stayed with him, but the scent of her protective potions surrounded him…grounded him. Standing tall, he shook his hands and prepared to swagger down the aisle so the world could see a king claiming his queen.

Didah gave him the biggest smile that rivaled the sun shining above them. She tilted her head back and burst into the first stanza of their family history and the drummers matched her strong voice as they pounded out the backing rythmn. His groomsmen and groomswoman were led away to join Yani's bridesmaids and bridesman to prepare for their entrance.

"I feel you all in me," N'Jadaka said out loud to his ancestors.

He held onto Dante's and Umama's hands and followed Didah out of the covered structure. The drummers controlled the pace of their trek around the temple and once they entered, N'Jadaka focused his eyes on Dinani the priest who waited for them at the front.

The temple overflowed with guests and their excited energy pushed against the king, adding an extra layer of sensory overload he tried to control. He was happy, so very happy, and every inch down the aisle heightened the experience. The piercing pride in Didah's voice carried him along as she sang out the story of the Udaku family leading the country for generations. Each time she named a queen or king, N'Jadaka felt their movement in his core as if they each tapped his soul to let him know they were walking beside him. He laughed out loud when Queen Shuriya's name was uttered. His greatest grandmother tickled the back of his neck and a vision of her clouded his eyes before the next name was called. His family gave a call and response with the drummers as they circled the temple allowing all the spectators to see the great King N'Jadaka in all his royal splendor. They made their way back up the aisle as his father's and mother's names were uttered. Umama let out a ululation that rippled through the family and N'Jadaka's knees almost buckled hearing the pain that was still in his grandmother's throat.

He closed his eyes when he felt a kiss from his mother on his temple and another kiss from his father on his forehead. He wiped his eyes and guided his elder relatives to their seats on a dais behind the priest. The rest of his family filled in the reserved seats in front of their guests.

N'Jadaka looked across the rows of guests and acknowledged the nearly nine hundred non-Udaku family members facing him. Sunlight filtered through the temple and illuminated the majestic indoor trees that created the canopy roof, their wide-sweeping branches intertwined with the solid pillars and Goddess statues making the atmosphere look surreal and holy. Didah and the drummers concluded their family song by highlighting N'Jadaka's bravery in protecting the people, and he danced entertaining the crowd. A few elderly Udaku aunts and uncles stood up and encouraged him to show out and he granted them a show. Umama and Dante hooted and hollered for him too. A bold drummer jumped in front of the king and pounded an extra rhythm for his feet and shoulders and he allowed his limbs to cut loose. The unseen Galiber clan called out his name loudly from the back announcing their entrance, and he ended his dancing by bowing to his grandparents. A riotous applause cascaded from the foreign guests in the audience.

Didah took her place behind him on the dais waiting for Yani's family griot to orate about her family.

The sound of clashing blades echoed from the far side of the temple. N'Jadaka waited with great anticipation. Kendall, and about fifteen of Yani's adult family members carried shiny cutlass blades and lit torches. They didn't use drums for a percussive sound, but sang acapella about Queen Mary, their history of enslavement and liberation using the acoustics of the ancient temple to echo the beauty of their combined voices. Leona walked among them lending her voice with her head held high wearing a strapless puffy champagne-colored gown decorated with tiny cutlass blades. Her salt and pepper hair was carefully decorated with Ginger Thomas flowers the official island flower from their home. Several young children and teenagers from their family followed along clapping to the beat and gazing at the wondrous beauty of the ancient temple.

Although Yani's family was small in number representing their clan in comparison to N'Jadaka's, they kept the guests spellbound listening to the story of their island roots and their connection to Africa through the diaspora. After singing the folk song of Queen Mary, Kendall took over the oral history and sang/rapped about their family. The other relatives stomped their feet and clapped their hands with percussive beats supporting his playful delivery of Caribbean history. The Galiber clan circled past N'Jadaka, and Kendall helped Leona join N'Jadaka's grandparents on the dais with four other elder cousins from her family. N'Jadaka moved over to them and gave them hugs and kisses before quickly taking his position back in front.

Kendall stood before Didah and the two of them had a playful back and forth of singing. Didah challenged Kendall to tell the world why Yani was the best woman for N'Jadaka and the young man waved his blade around and pointed the torch at the king. The fire was close enough to heat N'Jadaka's cheeks.

Didah held a long singing note and studied N'Jadaka's face.

"Is this woman for you, kumkani?" Didah asked.

"Bring her to me," he replied and the Udaki family laughed and clapped because he was supposed to simply say "Yes."

Didah's smile swelled his heart and she turned her attention back to Kendall.

"The king has spoken," Didah said.

Kendall grinned and attendants took away all the torches and cutlass weapons. The Wakandan drummers pounded away giving Kendall time to ceremonially return to the bride-to-be letting her know she was called forth. The sweet orchestral sounds of Wakandan strings, flutes, and violins mixed with the beautiful vocals of his paternal grand aunt serenading the strides of Twyla and Bibi. Twyla was already bawling as she clutched her husband's arm and the bouquet of flowers. Yani had all of her bridesmaids wear custom-made, iridescent mother-of-pearl dresses that each woman was allowed to choose in their personal style. Twyla's garment was a one shoulder wrap dress with a high slit on the left side. Her shoulder-length locs were also heavily decorated with island flowers. She clutched Bibi's arm tight while sniffling toward him. They stood on either side of N'Jadaka and he bent over and kissed Twyla's cheek, wiping her tears away.

"I'm sorry..I'm sorry…" Twyla whispered.

N'Jadaka laughed at her and she gathered herself together.

Zola and Ilana walked down with Tahir and Mpilo wearing elaborate crisscross halter neck gowns. The slits in their dresses were more modest, but their elaborate braided hair-dos showed flair and sassiness in their style. Mpilo looked terrified of messing up his walk down the aisle with Ilana, but he relaxed more when the king smiled at him. The heavenly music elevated the feelings in the temple and N'Jadaka touched his chest hoping it wouldn't explode before Yani appeared.

Anika and Dawnette made the long walk down the aisle with Walter and Shawn. Their dresses were a matching ruched style with sequins at the top and satiny overskirts that reminded N'Jadaka of mermaids. They crafted thick twists in their hair and wore their hair flowers tucked at their left temples like Billie Holiday.

Junie escorted Shuri who stunned everyone with her make-up and hair. She had fluffed out her hair into a perfectly coiffed 'fro where flowers were strategically placed to look like they grew from her scalp like a giant ebony bouquet. Her dress had a plunging neck with split sleeves that showed skin powdered with sparkly dust that twinkled like stars on her rich brown skin. As she passed the front row, she gave a nod to Nakia who held a sleeping Toussaint on her lap. Shuri gave a sly smirk to N'Jadaka knowing he was peeping all the extra make-up she never wore in her regular life. His young cousin looked stunning and his older cousin Junie looked proud to escort her in front of the Udaku clan.

Kendall strolled out with Nevaeh whose custom dress shared her Native heritage with Yurok detailing of abalone shells and stringed shell beads that dangled around her waist like a fancy apron that jingled as she walked. She wore a long braid threaded with flowers all the way to the small of her back. When she separated from Kenny she blew a kiss to N'Jadaka and showed him the extra bouquet of flowers she held for Marisol and Disa.

The music changed into a melody that transfixed the entire temple gathering. A young woman sang like an angel with a choral ensemble backing her up high above them. N'Jadaka lifted his gaze to a balcony above the temple entrance where the angelic voices rained down on them like holy blessings. He now understood why Umama insisted that the wedding take place in the late afternoon. The placement of the sun in the sky had its sunrays directed into the temple by the architecture where it created a natural spot light for his children coming down the aisle next.

The entire congregation stood up when Joba appeared, flower crowned with her thick wavy hair shiny with ringlet curls all down to her back. She held a basket of flowers and threw them in front of herself as she slowly walked in the procession. N'Jadaka heard the oohs and ahhs of their guests. The sun made Joba's skin a deep mahogany brown like her mother's and he beckoned for her to keep walking to him so he could hug her. Although her walk was out of order for an American custom, the Wakandans deemed it appropriate for the youngest child in the bridal party to herald the coming of the new wife with flowers and acceptance from the priest.

Joba reached the front and her eyes took in the ancient wisdom of Dinani who presided over the ceremony. Dinani gestured for Joba to come forward and the little girl paused, staring up at the expectant priest. Twyla waved for Joba to come to her side, but Dinani stepped forward and held Joba's hand. Something sacred transpired between the priest and his child. Dinani glanced at N'Jadaka and smiled. Whatever it was made the priest happy. N'Jadaka reached for Joba's hand and pulled her in front of him. He kissed the top of her head and the sweet show of affection made a few guests wave their hands in approval.

Sydette, his ring bearer, stepped lively carrying a satin pillow in her right hand that held the wedding rings. Her left hand kept a tight grip on a red satin binding rope that she would tie around her parent's wrists as part of the wedding ceremony.

His eldest child's hair carried buoyant curls that almost looked bigger than Shuri's 'fro with a braided Mohawk style. A few flowers were tucked into the intricate braiding pattern along her scalp accentuating the fullness of her curls, and her face glowed as she kept her eyes on her Baba watching her steps. Sunlight dappled across her hair and face as she drew closer to him. Her dress matched Joba's, silvery white and princess-styled to fit her age.

"Hey Sweet Pea," he said.

She fixed her lightly pink-glossed lips into a big smile for him showing big dimples like him, and took her place by his side next to Joba. He bent down and gave her a kiss on her nose and she giggled, patting his cheek with the hand carrying the marriage tie. She glanced at her sister and Joba giggled making Sydette giggle more.

"Wait until you see Mama," Sydette said to him.

N'Jadaka straightened right back up and waited for Yani to appear. Before she stepped into the temple, he heard her voice singing the words that were meant for him in that little St. Thomas club so long ago.

"Can't do without you for sure

Amount a place I and I explore

Still nuh find nobody else I adore

Them can't stop we, yeah

Yuh love a sumn wah mi have to protect

You are my balance and my ease to mi stress

Your vibration never fail me yet

Wull on pon me, yea…"*

N'Jadaka had been unaware that Yani was going to sing during their ceremony. Their rehearsal had been calculated from start to finish and at no time was he made aware of his bride serenading him. His ears caught the lead singer of the choral ensemble vocalizing the exact same English words into Wakandan, lending her vocals after Yani finished.

Like it had been in the past, he was mesmerized by Yani's voice before she even stepped into his sight.

Riki held his mother's hand and led her into the temple. His royal robes were an exact replica of his father's. His hair was fluffed out into the big sandy-red sunburst of his grandmother Califia. Yani wanted her son, the first child born to N'Jadaka, to give her away for the ceremony.

N'Jadaka's lips trembled as he watched the beaming face of his gorgeous bride walking toward him in all her glory. Yani's silvery-white dress sparkled in the light of the sun rays that struck the shimmery iridescence in all the right places. Form-fitting, a hood covered her head that fell back into a luxurious train, accentuating the roundness of her beautiful face and big tranquil eyes.

His heart stopped.

N'Jadaka gasped and Joba patted his wrist keeping his spirit from flying out of the room. He held out his hands, palms up, willing his radiant bride to come to him with all his might. Riki took his time setting Yani's pace. The boy wanted to show off his mother. The Wakandan choir sang over their bridal march with a hymnal that brought tears to N'Jadaka's eyes. Yani transported him.

He stood nude in warm liquid inside a Caribbean sea as a young mouthy woman fussed at him to get out of her waters. Surly eyes from the past challenged him to show his true self in a hectic kitchen on a compound until he clawed his way back to humanity and fell in love with his future queen. Yani beckoned him into the ocean of her love for all time. Was there no better proof of higher powers protecting him than that divine encounter with her?

Nothing prepared him fully to witness a vision coming toward him that made his whole body quake. He gasped for breath. Joba squeezed his hand.

"Its okay, Baba. Umi Yani is coming," Joba said.

Riki stopped halfway to the priest and puffed up his chest.

"Baba, come get Mama!" Riki shouted.

The congregation erupted into cacophonous laughter. Like his father, Riki eschewed tradition and said what needed to be said. Sydette pushed N'Jadaka forward and he took eager strides toward Yani. He was supposed to sing the royal wedding song that grooms shared with the bride, but he spoke them instead. The Wakandan words slowed down his steps and he approached Yani full-throated and proud:

"Come when the nights are bright with stars Or when the moon is mellow; Come when the sun his golden bars Drops on the hay-field yellow. Come in the twilight soft and gray, Come in the night or come in the day, Come, O love, whene'er you may, And you are welcome, welcome.

You are sweet, O Love, dear Love, You are soft as the nesting dove. Come to my heart and bring it rest As the bird flies home to its welcome nest.

Come when my heart is full of grief Or when my heart is merry, Come with the falling of the leaf Or with the redd'ning cherry. Come when the year's first blossom blows, Come when the summer gleams and glows, Come with the winter's drifting snows, And you are welcome, welcome…"**

He smiled, happy that he was able to remember every word and say them with enough eloquence in flawless Wakandan. Pausing for a moment to look over her stunning appearance, he relished the sight they created standing in the center of the temple with the warmth of the sun caressing them.

"Will you walk with me Yani Galiber?" he asked.

Yani kept her eyes locked onto his face. She fought to keep any tears from welling up, but the shimmer on her lower lids lost the battle. He never wanted to see her cry, but he made an exception for that day. Riki nudged her hip with an impatient hand. She cradled her son's chin and spoke to him softly.

"Should we?" Yani asked Riki.

A saucy grin curled Riki's lips and he nodded enthustiastically.

"I will walk with you King N'Jadaka Udaku," she said.

"Say that one mo' 'gin," N'Jadaka teased, cupping a hand to his ear.

Yani laughed and obliged him, her voice as soft and magical as it had been the first time he heard it.

"I will walk with you forever King N'Jadaka Udaku…my Golden Jaguar."

"Aye!" he shouted while offering her his arm. She held onto him with a firm grip and he clasped Riki's hand, escorting them both to Dinani.

Yani held tight to Riki's hand while the adult bridesmaids and groomsmen walked into the temple stepping in time to the exalted music playing for them. Several women priests had smudged her and the children with aromatic plants and oils before they left the palace and once again, a young female priest circled Yani and the children with a gold incense burner trailing a spiraling cloud of purple smoke that clung to their wedding garments and hair. The sweet odor calmed her mind and settled the children who were ready to gallop through the temple to reach their father.

Sydette hugged her waist.

"You look beautiful Mama," Sydette said.

"Thank you Sweet Pea. You all look beautiful, too."

Yani touched Sydette's hair then caressed Joba's cheek.

"I wish they'd hurry up," Riki lamented, swinging Yani's hand.

"They have to take their time walking down the aisle, silly. Everything is being filmed for the country and it's a big deal. If they walked fast they'd miss all the pretty clothes and how good we all look," Sydette said.

Riki and Sydette spoke quietly and Yani honed in on Joba's silence. She had been chatty and playful earlier that morning when everyone rushed around bathing in sacred oils and herbs with the female priests overseeing their preparations. But once they'd eaten a full breakfast, dressed, and left the palace, she'd quieted down.

Yani knelt before her youngest child and clasped her hands.

"How are you feeling, Sunshine? Nervous?"

Joba nodded. Sydette wrapped big sister arms around her.

"You'll make Baba proud when you lead us out…okay? We practiced and practiced and you will make the path for Mama pretty. I will be right behind you," Sydette said.

Joba clutched her basket of flowers and nodded. She tilted her head to look at Yani.

"What if I drop the basket or walk too fast?" Joba said.

Relief spilled over Yani hearing her speak again.

"All you have to do is listen to the music. It's like the metronome in Umama's suite. The beat sets the pace. If you think you're walking too fast, check the music cues. You are going to be a wonderful flower girl."

Yani hugged her and Joba leaned into the embrace. She kissed Yani's cheek and all was well again.

"It's time Princess Joba."

The lead wedding director smiled at the little girl and held a hand out to guide her into position at the temple entrance. Riki ran forward and hugged Joba. He whispered something in her ear and his sister broke out into another bright smile.

"You got this," Riki said out loud.

The director glanced at Yani.

"Everyone is standing up…here we go," the director said.

Joba took a deep breath and marched in time to the harmonious music.

"I'm next! I'm next!" Sydette squealed, twirling in a circle holding the wedding rings and sacred red tie.

Sydette peeked around the wedding director.

"Oh Mama! Baba looks so handsome," Sydette said.

Yani's heart and stomach fluttered. The anticipation of seeing him engulfed all of her nerve endings. They all heard collective oohs and ahhs and a smattering of applause. She wondered what happened to make the congregation applaud. Luckily, she would be able to watch the entire ceremony at a later time. The ceremony was broadcast live and recorded from start to finish. Palace recorders filmed everything the moment they stepped foot outside the palace for candid shots to later be edited into a royal wedding documentary.

"Princess Sydette, you are next please."

The director held out a hand and waved it, summoning the girl. Sydette blew Yani a kiss and marched out like a diva.

"Here you go, Princess Yani."

Another wedding coordinator handed her a mic. Yani waited for her music cue to tap it on. The peaceful strumming of harps alerted her, and she sang out all that she felt to N'Jadaka. She wondered what his facial expression looked like hearing her voice singing that particular song. Riki squeezed her hand in support and for a moment, holding her son's hand and singing to his father brought back all the connections they had in St. Thomas. Emotion spilled through her voice as she conveyed to the king how much he meant to her.

As the voice of the Wakandan choral member sang the song in their language with a different musical arrangement that transformed into the Wakandan wedding march, Yani held tight to her bridal bouquet and let her son lead them into the temple.

Grateful to have her son's hand for support, Yani took in the hundreds of faces that watched her march toward her destiny. Her brain tried to connect with individual eyes upon her. That proved useless once she zeroed in on N'Jadaka waiting for her at the far end.

God…he was more than handsome.

She lost her footing for a second and Riki helped her find her steps again.

It all came down to this moment.

Yani drifted away into a time when she was a lost woman-child trying to make a way out of no way on a small island. How many nights had she prayed for a better life for herself and Sydette? Given up on herself? How many days had she cried and chastised herself for choosing love with Chez who treated her so poorly and abandoned Sweet Pea? Yani had felt so alone and lost to a pre-destined fate that befell too many young women with big hearts and limited resources or support. Thank God Auntie was there for her. Thank all the angels too that her auntie liked Killmonger so much that she didn't run interference keeping them apart. There were too many tangible things that should have prevented Yani from ever meeting the foreign mercenary.

But look at God.

Her eyes watered and she looked away to control her blurry vision. No tears fell and she was able to concentrate on her delicate steps to reach the king.

Riki halted their march and shouted for his father to get her. The audience laughed and Yani chuckled herself. His declaration was not a part of the ceremony. She lifted her bridal bouquet to her lips to hide her open-mouthed laughter when Riki sucked his teeth sounding like an annoyed Auntie back home.

Her laughter fell away once N'Jadaka came down the aisle to claim her at his son's demand. She heard a few gasps from women around her who also felt that energy coming toward her. He spoke forceful words of love instead of singing them to her. The switch up made the evocative words more powerful and she felt every utterance in her bones, marrow deep. When he finally reached her, she could barely see his face. Her eyes had become a river threatening to spill down her face.

"Will you walk with me Yani Galiber?" N'Jadaka asked.

His voice was full of pride and so much love for her. The scent of oils on his skin and the smudging on his clothes smelled heavenly. She lost the ability to speak taking all of his spirit in. Riki balled up a small fist and pressed it into her hip. Yani lifted his chin and stared into Riki's shiny eyes.

"Should we?" Yani asked her son.

Those little Udaku lips on his face swept up into a knowing smile and Riki nodded like she was foolish to even ask the question. She looked at her great love again.

"I will walk with you King N'Jadaka Udaku," she said.

"Say that one mo' 'gin!"

N'Jadaka had cupped his ear and she knew in her soul he did that purely to show off for the nobles who questioned her place in his life.

"I will walk with you forever King N'Jadaka Udaku…my Golden Jaguar."

"Aye!"

Yani gripped his arm and he held Riki's hand, escorting them all to the priest waiting for them. Her bridesmaids and bridesgroom were in various stages of watery eyes, crying, and beaming love to her. She handed her bouquet to Twyla and her cousin gushed over her with a weepy voice.

Facing N'Jadaka, Yani watched the priest give Sydette instructions. She handed the wedding rings to her brother and a footstool was placed in front of her so she could easily bind her mother and father together. Dinani spoke ancient words as Sydette tied the satin binding rope around N'Jadaka's wrist first. She left about two feet of rope in between them before she tied the other end on Yani's wrist. Her task complete, Sweet Pea kissed both their wrists and returned to stand next to Joba.

Yani listened to the Wakandan words spoken by the priest, but her eyes stayed on N'Jadaka's face the entire time. His soulful eyes drank in every inch of her. It seemed like they were the only two there, but with the guests, plus the entire Udaku clan in attendance, over one thousand people witnessed their union and she blotted them all out.

Dinani spoke of their expected duties toward one another. Her ears glossed over all of those expectations and only tuned back in when the long ceremony moved into the portion where she was told the qualities of a virtuous queen.

Holy scripture was read by Ayiz'e who wore the sacred red robes of the mountain temple of Bast. A male priest presented Dinani with more sacred oils and they anointed Yani and N'Jadaka. The qualities of a virtuous king were recited to N'Jadaka. An older female priest blessed their children who stood there, and also blessed the children they would have in the future.

Umama stepped forward from her place on the dais holding Yani's queen isicholo. Dinani prayed over the crown and anointed it with holy Bast oils before N'Jadaka pulled back the hood on Yani's wedding dress revealing her platinum hair. Umama's voice was loud and strong.

"We of the Udaku clan accept Yani Galiber into this holy union. She is our welcomed daughter…our new queen…Queen Yani N'Isiqithi the First."

The women of the entire Udaku clan broke out into heartfelt ululations that echoed throughout the temple. Yani bowed her head slightly and Umama placed the queen's isicholo on her head.

"Stay blessed Queen Yani, may your reign make us all proud and may your greatest grandmother Queen Mary guide your hand in all that you do," Umama said.

Yani stood still and accepted the ululations, the shouts, the applause, the jealousy, the envy, the hatred, the admiration, the love, the curiosity, and the fear her queendom brought to Wakanda. She straightened her posture and let the weight of the crown sink into soul.

Queen Yani.

Heavy was the head that wore the crown, but not so much with N'Jadaka by her side. He held her hand up and they turned around to face the congregation. Dinani raised their arms and spoke with a firm tone in their voice.

"May I present to you all here, the royal heads of the nation, King N'Jadaka and Queen Yani Udaku, avatars of the Golden Jaguar…children of the Black Pather Tribe."

Everyone in the temple stood, including the relatives on the dais. The Council of Elders came forth from the audience and circled Yani and N'Jadaka. They held hands and recited an oath promising them both wise council in the days ahead. Stepping aside afterward, Yani and her new husband were able to acknowledge the crowd amidst their applause.

"You may now kiss your bride, kumkani," Dinani said.

N'Jadaka's lips were on hers before the priest finished giving permission, almost knocking her crown off. He kissed her within an inch of her life and backed away when she almost went limp.

"Hey queen," he said.

"Hey king," she answered.

Yani checked on their children and all three had glossy eyes admiring her new isicholo. N'Jadaka threaded his fingers with hers and boldly showed her off. To close the ceremony, they had to circle the inside of the temple as newlyweds counterclockwise. The isicholo settled nicely on her head, and Yani willfully entered her new era as ruler. She relaxed into N'Jadaka's strides and pranced about, letting her beauty and new status burn her enemies down to charcoal.

N'Jadaka kept stopping to kiss her hand and the red satin binding tie dangled between them letting everyone know they would never part. She reveled in the power, soaked it up and let it propel her around the temple with a fierce protective energy.

Back at the front again, N'Jadaka kissed her chasrely, with pecks to her lips and both cheeks. She bent down to hug and kiss their children just as the closing wedding march started. Dinani gave their final blessing and the Udaku family drummers showed out again, leading the march out of the temple. Didah sang a new griot song prophesying the reign of Yani and N'Jadaka.

"Ready to face the rest of the world?" N'Jadaka asked.

"I am," Yani said.

They held hands tight and strolled down the aisle together, exiting the ancient temple as husband and wife.

Chapter 6 HERE.

* Lyrics to Jada Kingdom's "Wull On"

** Poem by Black American poet Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906), "An Invitation to Love"

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[spahhzy]

Free as can be~

Ashley sighed into her sleeve for what seemed to be the umpteenth time, causing Andrew to look down from his book he was reading.

"You okay Ash?" He asked, shifting himself to next to his sister.

"Just bored..." Ashley said with a pout, and Andrew rolled his eyes.

"What? You mean living motel to motel on the run from law enforcement, cults, and an organ harvesting firm isn't exciting enough for you, " He said sarcastically as Ashley tossed a pillow at his face.

"Nope," she said, giggling before suddenly her stomach growled.

"You should probably go get something from the vending machine, Ashley." Said Andrew, which cause Ashley to grumble.

"I don't want no stupid cookie again... let's go out to eat! " Said Ashley with enthusiasm rising up and standing on the bed.

"No"

"Wah, oh come on, Andy, I know for a fact you have gotten sick and tired of cookies by now," Ashley argued back.

"What part of 'on the run' did you not understand?" He countered, and Ashley huffed before crossing her arms.

"We're only on the run cause you keep killing people," She said as Andrew breathed deeply, knowing his sister is right and wrong in what she said.

"But that doesn't mean we can't go and eat nice every once and a while" She complained.

"Ashley, it was just last week that I took you to a restaurant, and you almost stuck a fork down our waitresses' throat." Andrew complained as Ashley looked at him with a surprise look.

"That hussy was undressing you with her eyes. You could have gotten sick!" Ashley explained. 'Only I can do that!' Is what she wanted to add as well.

"Yeah, well, what's to say you won't do that at another restaurant, Leyley?" Andrew questioned, and Leyley held a hand over her heart.

"I promise to be on my best behavior...scouts honor"

"You were never a scout, Ashley..." said Andrew as he got up from the bed.

"And for good reason, you'd probably murder the camp counselor if they tried to touch me," She said, and Andrew knew she was right, he probably murder anyone their that tried to take his leyley from him.

"Fuck it, why not we'll go to a Benny's Diner how about that?" Ashley cheered jumping on the bed like she was a child.

"Yes, food! Actual none vending machine food!" She said and Andrew just smiled before tossing a pillow at her head causing her to fall off the bed.

"Get dressed dumbass"

-

Andrew looked out the dinner window as Ashley was eating happily away at her meal.

Across the street from him was a bar, he was assuming it was some sort of biker bar with how many motorcycles there were.

Motorcycles...

Looking at the machines, Andrew minds began to slip into a memory of some simple times.

-

"Wow, Andy, I can't believe you blew some of your college money on this, Mom's going to be pissed," said Ashley as she walked around a nice black motorcycle.

"I make enough to put it back Ashley, sides since when did you care about what mom thinks?" Andrew said as he cleaned off the bike a little.

"I don't, just surprised is all...my big Andy thinks he's so cool now, huh? " Teased Ashley as Andrew sat on the bike, ignoring her.

"Gonna attract all those whores to aren't you? Gonna have them ride along with you, hmm?" Ashley said with a hint of jealousy in her voice.

"That's going to be hard to do with you around," He said to her.

"Wow...tell me how you really feel?"

"Oh, leyley if I did, I'm almost certain I'd be in jail," Andrew teased back causing Ashely to blush and look away, not at all liking how her brother can sometimes...sometimes push her buttons, suddenly the bike road to life as Andrew revved it a couple times.

Enjoying the noise it made.

Ashley shook her head, finding truth in the saying 'boys will be boys' and looking at Andrew's smiling face, butterflies began dancing in her stomach.

"Catch."

Ashley snapped out of her stupor as Andrew tossed a helmet into her direction.

"Wuh?"

"Come on, leyley, it will be just like old times on the bicycle we had remember?" She must have remembered.

Their folks got him a bicycle for his tenth birthday. Ashley didn't get a bicycle, just coloring books, so on her birthday, he stole pegs off the other kids' bike and attached it to his bike so that Ashley could always ride with him.

It was the best gift Ashley got on that day, being able to ride free with her big brother and it was a great gift for them both as It was one of the rare instances in their childhood where they could just enjoy being kids.

Andrew never forgot the big smile Ashley had that day of being able to ride on a motorcycle with him.

-

Andrew sighed, which caused Ashley to stop her rampant chewing, looking at Andrew. Ashley reached over with her fork and poked him.

"What's wrong, Andy?" She said with a mouthful, and Andrew bonked her on the head.

"I didn't need to see your mouthful," He said to her. Ashley giggled before swallowing.

"I'm sure you love seeing me swallow something else" She wiggled her eyebrows at him and Andrew almost snorted out his coffee he was drinking.

"Still...what is on your mind?" She asked, setting her fork down and taking a sip of her soda.

"Just reminiscent, I guess..." He confessed to her as he returned his gaze back to her.

"Ooh are you reminiscing about my fat fucking tits again?" this time Andrew choked on his coffee and began coughing and blushing as Ashley laughed causing the other occupants to look at the pair strangely.

Andrew tossed a piece of toast at his sister's head.

"Hey! That's perfectly good toast!"

-

The pair had finished their food without a hitch, and they swiftly left the diner after paying.

Now, it was time for a short walk back to the motel.

They proceeded past the bar where the group of bikers were, and as they proceeded to walk on by one biker in particular decided to try his luck.

"Hey sweetie, why don't you come over here and get the ride of a lifetime?" He said to her. Ashley just ignored him, giving him the middle finger, but Andrew, on the other hand, was silently fuming at how these bikers were looking and leering at his leyley...

"Lookie that boys, she's a real fiesty one, huh?" The leader said, earning a laugh from the rest of the gang. Andrew clenched his fist and gritted his teeth, Ashley sensing this took his arm and hugged it as they both walked past the biker.

"Hey, when you're done with the stooge, I'll ne waiting for you, Lil lady," said the leader as they Andrew and Ashley both rounded a corner out of sight.

-

Nothing was said as they made their way back to their motel, Ashley was a bit worried at seeing Andrew upset, but also...kinda liked how possessive he was.

Giving out a yawn, the food now giving her the sleepies.

"Get some rest, Ashley," Andrew said as he walked over and put a blanket over her.

"You...coming too...bed too?" She said, trying to stay awake, and Andrew just chuckled.

"After I clean up some stuff around the room, not really tired yet," He told her as Ashley violet eyes drooped more and more.

"Mmkay...love you," She said before finally she was out like a light.

"..." Andrew bent down before placing a kiss on her forehead as he looked at her calm expression.

He sat back down on the couch and waited a good whole hour to make sure Ashley was still asleep as he suddenly sat up from his couch, went into the kitchen, and procured his cleaver. Grabbing his jacket and stuffing the cleaver in his back pants pocket, he opened the door before stepping out into the darkness, giving one last look at Ashley before quietly closing the door.

-

"Man, did you see the tits on the dark-haired girl...what I would do that woman," said the sleazy biker as all his friends laughed and cheered him on.

"Alright, gang, I'm heading out. Don't cause too much of a ruckus," laughed the leader as he started his bike, the exhaust garbling loudly as the group cheered and said their goodbyes.

The biker drove for what was about five minutes when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw that same dude that was with that beautiful woman earlier leaving the diner.

That man was Andrew, and he was leaning against the wall next to a dark alley smoking a cigarette.

Pulling over to the curb, shutting off his bike and pocketing his keys in his black stained vest, he leaned on the same wall right next to Andrew.

"Hey buddy, so tell me, how's that hot piece of ass been treating you?" He asked Andrew said nothing as he smoked his cigarette.

"I'm sure she's a real freak in bed to ain't she" It took all of Andrew will power not to grab the man's throat and tear it out.

"Hey, I have an idea... Why not let me have a crack at her? I'll pay you for it, hmm?" He asked, and Andrew was inches away from slicing his throat.

"How much are you paying?" Andrew asked, hating himself for saying those words, but if everything worked out, then he would do what he needed to do.

"For a glorious pieace of ass like that, all the money that's in my pocket which is..." The man patted himself from pants pockets to vest pockets before finally procuring money.

"$777.77" He told him with a sick grin on his face, Andrew looked at the money as he looked like he was considering the offer.

"Let's talk about this more... discreetly," He said, making a motion to the dark alley as the sleazy biker grinned, thinking he was going to get his dick wet tonight.

Walking like he won the lottery, he entered into the alleyway, Andrew not too far behind as his green eyes glared balefully at him as he reached behind and grabbed his cleaver.

"Alright, let's dis -" he was cut off real quick as sharp steal found itself ingrained into his face, the biker could only gargle as Andrew gripped at the cleaver hard and ripped it from his face.

"As if someone like you will ever touch my leyley... see you in hell, " He said as he began relentlessly hitting the man's head with the cleaver over and over.

Andrew, finally out of his rage, looked at his work. He sighed, another body to his name. This one, though, was like that warden...another sleaze and one that he was happy to kill.

But now it was time to clean up. Luckily, he brought some gloves.

It took him less than a half hour to chop away at the body before throwing it into the dumpster.

Finally, it was time to just throw the clothes out, too, as he grabbed the bikers' vest, a key fell out and onto the floor. Inspecting it, he took a look at the end of the entrance of the alley to see the dead bikers motorcycle.

Andrew smiled.

-

Ashley awoke to the sound of the TV playing in the background. She looked at the time on the alarm clock.

10:00pm.

"Andrew?"

Silence.

Looking around the room, She called out again.

"Andrew!"

Nothing.

Panic began to set in as a million thoughts went through her head.

'Was he taken?'

'Was he killed?'

'Did some floozy seduce him?'

'Did he....leave me?'

And before she could answer any of those questions, she heard the loud rumbling a bike make its way into the parking lot of the motel as she suddenly realized that Andrew went out to go fight that biker for how he talked to her.

While she would be swooning over the fact that her Andy was fighting for her honor, she had realized that Andrew was one man, and he couldn't just take on a small gaggle of bikers and if one was here that meant...

"No! Don't think such thoughts... just go and interrogate this stupid biker and find out where your Andy is, " She said to herself, going under her bed, pulling out her revolver. She stormed the front door, ripping it open and aimed the gun at the biker.

"You better tell me where my fucking Andy is you bastard!" She shouted as the biker quickly held his hands up.

"Ashley what the fuck!?" Came the voice inside the helmet, Ashley was so close to pulling the trigger and blowing this fuckers brains out when suddenly the man took the helmet off revealing.

"Waaaaah Annnndy!?" said Ashley as she tossed the gun back inside before running up to him as Andrew caught her in a hug and spun her around.

"I'm not going to ask what the whole gun thing was," Andrew said to her as Ashley nuzzled her face into his chest, relishing I'm his warmth.

"I...I thought I lost you to those stupid bikers," Ashley mumbled, and Andrew shook his head.

"No, leyley, I wouldn't dare leave you." He told her in earnest as he suddenly stepped to the side.

"So... like it?" He asked her, and she looked at the bike and then back to him.

"How did you get this?" She asked, eyeing him suspiciously, and Andrew just whistled but was slapped on the shoulder.

"What it was Free nighty nine!" He said with a serious face, and Ashley just looked at him with an expression that said 'really?'.

"Okay, it was a generous donation," He said to her, putting a hand on his heart when he said that.

"Did you kill that man?" Ashley asked.

Andrew remained silent.

"Annnnnndyyyyy"

"Whaaaat! Since when were you the moral compass!" Complained Andrew much to Ashley's joy.

"I'm not, now you know how I feel when I have to deal with you"

"Oh go fuck yourself"

"Come fuck me yourself coward!"

Andrew just sputtered and blushed, not wanting to continue.

Ashley looked over the bike before sitting down on it.

"Very nice, hey, this reminds me of your old bike you had before our folks sold it off!" She told him as she started to reminisce about all the places Andrew had taken her to.

Andrew let her talk as he went behind her and pulled out another helmet.

"Hey Ash"

"Hmm?"

"Catch!"

Ashley caught the helmet and looked at Andrew who just smiled.

"What do you say, leyley? Shall we ride again like old times?"

Ashley smile was very bright even in the dark of night.

Starting up the bike, Ashely sat behind Andrew before straping on the helmet. She wrapped her arms around Andrew's chest.

Carefully and slowly, they both drove around the parking lot before Andrew finally decided to go onto the main road. Looking behind him, Ashley nodded to him, ready to go.

Putting throttle, the bike glided smoothly on the open pavement as the exhaust reverberated off the city walls.

Ashley laughed in happiness as she felt nostalgia and warmth over take her while also enjoying the freedom and closeness with the man she loved.

Andrew was content, regardless of his situation. As long as his Leyley was happy, nothing else mattered.

The two sailed into the darkness, free as can be.

[doomsdaydicecascader]

In that case, then, the "death as a good ending because you're no longer in HS" is essentially a big lampshade hung on the nature of fiction itself? I can't help but feel like that has to tie into something less thematically self-referential, but I admit sometimes the comic gets really into its own narrative sandbox and that goes a little over my head. Thank you for the response though, and have a good weekend!

yeah! like, i think a lot of the purpose of homestuck is just to be self-referential. and i think hussie agrees! take this formspring answer for example:

So what is the idea? I don't feel like elaborating on it THAT much now, because I would probably type forever. Basically, it's about building an extremely dense interior vocabulary to tell a story with, and continue to build and expand that vocabulary by revisiting its components often, combining them, extending them and so on. A vocabulary can be (and usually is) simple, consisting of single words, but in this case it extends to entire sentences and paragraph structures and visual forms and even entire scenes like the one linked above. Sometimes the purpose for reiteration is clear, and sometimes there really is no purpose other than to hit a familiar note, and for me that's all that needs to happen for it to be worthwhile. Triggering recognition is a powerful tool for a storyteller to use. Recognition is a powerful experience for a reader. It promotes alertness, at the very least. And in a lot of cases here, I think it promotes levity (humor! this is mostly a work of comedy, remember.) Controlling a reader's recognition faculty is one way to manipulate the reader's reactions as desired to advance the creative agenda. In this case I'm not exactly sure what that agenda is all the time, and in truth there probably isn't any serious agenda there. This story, though at times seeming diabolically put together, is still pretty light reading after all. if anything I'm just striving for a certain pitch in density with the all the multithreaded symbolism and endless internal reference. Think of it as a symphony and everything I've referred to as belonging to a vocabulary are really just notes, working together in a really complicated harmonic structure.

this is a thing stories already do, building a vocabulary out of plot beats and callbacks, characters facts and themes, i've described storytelling before as "like building a pyramid and then slowly, piece by piece, taking it apart" - it's sometimes used derogatorily, like when a callback is a little bit too obvious, to be an obvious callback in the third act (see: crazy ball in psycho goreman, the thing that sparked this line of thought originally)

but homestuck takes this idea really, really far, in that it will actively redefine what these beats mean solely for the joy of doing so, and so you can only really trust what a story beat means in the context of what it means in homestuck. i think its really cool. the only thing ive ever seen that does something similar is petscop, it's a very cool thing to do that i dont think a lot of people really catch on to, and it can create something that lasts even if people dont understand why it works the way it does

[kindnessisweakness2]

Delusional - Part 21

“Jax!” Tara called his name in suprise as he gripped her arm and pulled her into an empty waiting room. Jax’s face was like thunder as he slammed the door shut behind them and pulled the blinds closed. “What fucking game are you playing?” He spat at the terrified doctor. “I Dont know what your talking about-” Tara was cut off by Jax’s hand flying out and catching her around the throat, pushing her against the wall. Fear filled her eyes as she saw a different side of her ex lover. This was the side she never thought she would see. The Angry Jax who used to do anything to protect her and their relationship. She only saw the loving Jax who would treat her like she was the most fragile beautiful thing in the world. She felt his hot breath fan across her face as he leaned close to her. “Fucking with my Wife, will bring you nothing but trouble, Dr Knowles. Now i dont know what you are trying to accomplish but let me be clear. You are the past. Delaney is my future. She is carrying my child. My fucking baby. A Legacy Child, that me and every Son from here to Belfast will die to protect. You and me? We had our time and its done. Now in future, when you see my girl, you turn and walk in the other fucking direction. You dont look at her. You dont breathe near her. Me and my family are out of fucking bounds for you. Do you understand?” Tara gasped against his hold as she watched tears fall from his eyes. Words were lost to her, all she could do was nod in agreement. Jax let her go and stepped back as she dropped to the floor. “This is the last time im going to allow you to fuck with my family.We’re Done Tara.” And with that Jax left her in a heap on the cold hospital floor. Storming from the hospital, Jax headed to his moms house. Knocking the door, Jax couldnt explain the relief he felt when Gemma Answered. “Whats happened baby?” That was all it took. Jax burst into sobbs on his moms front door as she wrapped her arms around him for the first time since he was a teenager. There was only one time she had seen him this bad, and its when that little hussy twisted him up and left. Jax spent the night on his moms sofa filling both her and Clay in on what had happened before falling into a restless sleep.

Delaney winced as she opened her eyes. Crying yourself to sleep really does give you a god awful headache. Sliding from under the warmth of her covers she slipped on Jax’s hoodie and made her way down the hall. She really could Murder a coffee but the recent baby news meant she was stuck to a cup of tea instead. She really did not want to risk a damn thing with this pregnancy. Despite what her and Jax are going through, they needed something good and this baby meant a lot to both of them. Jax would be a great Dad, and thats something that she couldnt deny. She hoped he stuck to his word and she would see him Monday, not in the arms of Dr Knowles. Everything yesterday was so hard. Hearing Tara say that shit hurt like hell. Her stepping away gave Jax the freedom and space to choose who he wanted. And even though it was selfish, she wanted him to choose her. To choose their family. “Wow, you really havent changed a bit.” The voice made Delaney drop her mug of tea. No. Why. How. 

Turning around slowly, Delaney made eye contact with Alex. There he was, in the flesh, sat at her and Jax’s kitchen Table. A sinister grin spread across his face as Delaney spotted the gun in his hand. “Miss me Sweetie?”

[soranihimawari]

120 beats per minute

word count: tbd

pairing: reader x osamu// reader x atsumu

rating: t/m for lor love triangles and sibling violence

it's a funny thing, love. this emotion causes joy, anger, anxiety, so why does your best friend's brother stand before you with a soft smile. a warmth radiating off of him when his hazel graham cracker eyes which match his hair dye chooses to take you in, disheveled hair and all, and spots someone who deserves this sort of rendezvous too. miya atsumu is out of breath and has such a cross expression like he's about to go off on you for no reason, but his words fail him the moment you leap into his arms and he catches you.

ok, maybe if we start at the beginning, you'll completely understand why he's there at your house in an unholy hour of two in the morning.

[[twelve hours ago]]

you leave school in the sunshine afternoon of a day. there is a letter that falls into your school bag. a girl friend of yours invites you the karaoke club. what you didn't know was it was going to be a club building exercise between a few single guys from the volleyball club and your jazz band club. your best friend, the one whom you've been claimed to be inseparable since you were seven. imagine the look on your face when you see him canoodling up to one of the other girls in the group at the couch in the karaoke room. it's your turn to sing and you sing" la vie en rose" in a shaky voice. your eyes don't leave the spot on the couch when the girl from your group stakes her claim on with your best friend's lips. if there is a moment in time your best friend could hear your heart snap it must be the equivalent when your microphone drops to the cushion in the crescendo of the song. you rush out, no word or excuse of an apology. the boys sort of cheer on their teammate's liplocked confession, but two people in the room, your girl friend and one other teammate raises their brow.

you're home when your friends the girl who had invited you and the other teammate decides to text you together. both of them are apologizing saying that you didn't deserve it. they comfort you in their empathetic facetime call with you.

"y'know until that hussy kissed 'samu-kun, i thought he was gonna sit next to you," your girl friend from class nods.

"yeah, yeah!" a miya with blonde hair says. he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of the nose. "my brother is a bit of an oblivious dolt."

"a bit?! my closest friend these past three years whom you've quite literally grew up with yn-san and your brother locking lips with the biggest slut of the year!"

"guys, guys," you sound a little defeated about it. "it's ok. 'm sure 'samu liked her too."

you speak no more of this incident, rather after your friend hangs up first, the older twin brother of the young man you learned to like, suggests something gnarly.

"i like you, why not date me instead?" he's still on facetime and he hears you sniffle once, then twice, then he calmly expresses his brother might be an idiot, but for what it's worth: "i can be greedy too."

"but that's not fair to you," you say, all ounce of rationality makes your heart stutter a bit.

"osamu's an idiot," atsumu retorts. "how can he possibly not adore you?...and in case you've forgotten, yn, i've known you for the same amount of time--i've loved you for longer, trust me. i'm on your side. i just want you to win."

you say nothing as you let atsumu's words both stun and linger in your mind. it stirs something ancient in your wounded heart and immediately, flashbacks of your childhood with the twins play in realtime. for every scrape, ouchie at recess, every tear his brother had by proxy caused, atsumu was there bandaging you up with neosporin, giving you a piggy-back ride home from the playground, made you laugh by inserting jellybeans on his canines on halloween thus chasing you until you fall in his room side by side with him laughing into the night. love, you realize is a double edge of sword.

come the weekend after the karaoke mess, osamu and atsumu are rumoured to have an awful fight in the gym locker room. apparently the rumor was atsumu cornered his brother and charged him the crime of breaking your heart and soiled your self-pride. suna has it recorded the moment aran and kita walk in to the twins being pulled apart. osamu has as bloodied nose and atsumu has a busted lip:

"at least i was honest with my feelings ya scrub! how could you not know?!" atsumu's voice is quieter, angrier.

osamu shakes his head. "how can i when ya always make 'em smile?!"

the twins fought about twelve hours ago, but without warning, you awake to a rapping at your front door. the blue light of the netflix show you were watching were now adding an ethereal glow behind you. your box of tissues after watching the latest episode of a popular k-drama your cousins turned you to for heartbreak. you heard a familiar harsh, yet gentle voice you recognize as belonging to atsumu.

neither of you say anything as you pull back the door further, only to glance at him all aglow with a thin layer of sweat in the cool autumn night. it's a funny thing, love. this emotion causes joy, anger, anxiety, so why does your best friend's brother stand before you with a soft smile. he doesn't even speak your name, yet those memories from earlier replay in your heart of hearts you throw yourself at him and his arms hold you closer to him.

"hi sweetheart," his voice is breathy and deep.

"s'late," you whisper against his skin before he puts you back down to the concrete again.

"i know, but i needed to see you."

"want to come in?"

"maybe some other time," he plays with your hand before raising it to his face, which turns into you cupping his cheek until his breath catches up to him. he breathes normally for a few moments, he tells you about the fight word for word.

"are you alright?" your concerned worried eyes search his face for more minor injuries before you relent after he assures you, he's fine.

"jus' my lip is all," he chortles a little. "what's that pout for?"

you shake your head before standing on your toes to have your lips press against his. you don't have an explanation why you kissed him so when you pull away, his cheeks are a soft hue in the moonlight.

"'m sorry, did that hurt?" you ask and before you could receive an answer, the boy ahead of you smashes his lips on yours.

your hand on his face slides down to his chest, clutching the fabric of his pajama shirt the more you let him kiss you; his hand on your waist, the other cupping the back of your head, he leads you into opening your mouth a little more when he runs his tongues over the grooves of your lips. you gasp a little when you taste the mint of his toothpaste and he licks the salt on the corner of your lips from the tears you cried watching another kdrama recommendation (he knows your routine when something heartbreaking happens in your life).

it's two in the morning, you and miya atsumu have since declared that the hour is meant for the romantics whose heart beats quickly rise to 120 bpm.

[[bonus scene]]

you wake on the couch when you feel atsumu's hand brush back your bangs to tuck them behind your ear. it's a strange habit he developed over the years ever since the autumn of your second year.

"morning sweetheart," his hard g's at the ends of his words still cause your heart to flutter.

you, on the other hand, turn to smile at him from where you slept. someone else pitter patters up to you both, the reason why you slept on the couch in the first place and the reason why you have a row in your fridge dedicated to juice boxes.

"papa, why's da ray o' sunshine on our couch?"

"because," you speak up, stifling a yawn. "ya little gremlin took over my side of the bed!"

the kid runs after you made a monstrous, playful growl, and for what it's worth, the faux blonde who gets to witness this exchange the morning after coming back from an away trip with his team, just counts his lucky stars you answered your door that night. laughter fills the halls and they reach an all-time high with atsumu walking to see you scoop up the proof you two have of your love. the tyke holding on to you saying that they were sorry in between the giggles and kisses you give them; your lover in the doorway leans against it, swears he’s never had his heart this full.

“atsumu, c’mere,” you beckon him as the kid settles down and you maneuver your hold on the child to have them on your hip. with your free hand you smile at him when you trace over that small scar on his lip now nearly a decade old. you and osamu might have made up at the wedding shower, but knowing you were always going to wind up a ‘miya’ was predicted by your family and theirs. the kicker was when you stood in front of atsumu since everyone swore osamu was never going to let you go, but he did. that’s the funny thing falling for both siblings at different stages of your life: osamu was more of a puppy-love, yet atsumu, who seemed to glow like a solar flare, set your soul ablaze with the chemistry he provided you.

currently, atsumu stills breathing ahead of you, pressing his lips on the pad of your fingers before your shared child hides his face in your neck declaring: “papa! just kiss the monster and make ‘em pwetty again! ah miss sunshine!”

a chuckle is heard from you before atsumu kisses you quietly matching his lips to yours on this delightful morning.

you whisper, “i love you, g’morning.”

he in turn, tilts your face up again lingering his lips over yours before humming a quiet, “i love you and i will always remind you how you shine like starlight.”

you took a leap of faith when you kissed him at seventeen years old and now? now, the future has been bright ever since.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

The Cishet 1990s American Father-Son Movie, Good Omens triggered.

For those who are confused, @howmanyholesinswisscheese made a heartbreaking Good Omens post. Read it and weep.

The reblogs however degenerated into a Cishet Father-Son saga, since you maggots are all my adoptive parents. Here is a more polished version of my latest contribution to the hellsite.

[Opening credits play over highly saturated, sundrenched midwest farmland. Bob Dylan's Sara plays and the title appears as the camera slows to a halt in front of a sprawling house.]

[TITLE: Farewell, Iowa, We'll Meet Again, a Gus Van Sant film]

Art 'Greeny' Matthews, a man who does an honest day's work in the farm and is pretty darn proud of it, wanders through his house. His wife Darlene just left him (hence the opening song), and he is faced with the prospect of raising his only son, a ten year old lad Asmond 'Mond' Matthews, on his own.

Greeny takes Mond along with him as he works in the farm on holidays, riding in the tractor. Mond cries about Darlene, who didn't even leave a note, the hussy, and Greeny comforts him as much as he can. "It'll be alright, son," Greeny says on Mond's eleventh birthday, as they sit in the stable with a badly made cake on the wobbly stool. "Just you and me, eh? Not bad!"

"I hate chocolate," Mond whispers miserably, and the birthday party ends in more tears.

When Mond is thirteen, he starts to grow more closed with his emotions, just helping his dad around the farm. They're making a huge profit, and Greeny has business deals and free time, and makes an effort to bring Mond along to golf games and such. Mond is being bullied in school for being caught writing poetry, but he refuses to tell his dad why he comes home with a black eye every other week.

"I'm always here if you want to talk over a game of catch, son," Greeny tries one day. "No thanks, dad," Mond says, and wanders away into the stable. At fourteen, Greeny tries to bring him on fishing trips to discuss his feelings, as they used to do back when Darlene lived with them. Mond swallows, but shakes his head.

Finally, Mond can't keep it from him anymore, and when Greeny finds out, he goes into a rare fit of temper. "Just like your mother, boy!" he says, hand rattling his mug of ale. "A wanderer and a careless fool, that's what you'll turn out to be! There ain't no place in this world for people livin' in their heads."

Mond doesn't write poetry anymore.

As Mond grows, though, he helps out more with the farm, and they bond over hopes for future profit, and joking about golf, which they both find pretentious. "C'mon, champ, let's go play golf," Greeny says while they watch suited businessmen make their way to the house, out of place amidst the yellow-green farmland. "What's your favourite golf club?"

"That a literal club, or the thing they whack the ball with, dad?" Mond responds, and Greeny chortles. "I taught you better than that, son."

He has high hopes for Mond, he will take over the farm. Greeny is growing weary of his duties, he married late and had Mond even later.

[Montages of sunlight days ensue, intercut with shots of Mond, who always has a melancholic air about him. His mother was a dancer, and that rebellious spirit, so long dormant, is beginning to stir as he enters his twenties.]

On his twenty-first birthday, Greeny has baked him a cake, not chocolate. Mond barely sees it. His father doesn't know him. Not really. Not at all. When Greeny says he is handing over the farm to him, and starts to give him instructions about the responsibilities, Mond has had it.

He picks up the rucksack he's been storing by the umbrella stand for weeks, and shoulders it as Greeny pauses mid-lecture. "I'm sorry, dad," Mond says. "I'm going away to be my own man. This was your dream. Not mine."

Greeny is too frozen to stop him.

[Knockin' on Heaven's Door by Bob Dylan plays with another montage]

Mond travels the States, far from home and Iowa, and after a year of struggle finally publishes his first anthology of poetry. Hoping to make his dad proud, he sends a letter home asking if it imperative he return, since he's too ashamed to say he wants to. The reply is a brief but polite no from the housekeeper, saying his father wishes him well but does not require that he return. Assuming Greeny wants nothing to do with him, Mond stays away, bitter and homesick.

He is called home a few months later, and when he arrives, he is met not with Greeny, but with the housemaids and farmhands in black, and the housekeeper teary-eyed as she guides him to the back garden and a lonely gravestone. Greeny, heartbroken by his son leaving the same way Darlene his wife did all those years ago, declined in health, but he kept up the farm till the end, all ready for Mond should he want it after all, and for the head farmer if he didn't.

Mond, still carrying his book hoping to have shown his dad at last, stares in shock at the gravestone. He thinks even at the end Greeny did not know him, thought he would want the farm. Until he reads the inscription. Art 'Greeny' Matthews, friend to all, loyal husband, and most of all, proud father of a poet.

His father knew, Mond realised. His father knew what he'd been doing.

"Are ya proud, dad?" Mond whispers, dropping the book and kneeling down before the stone. "Are ya proud? It was all for you."

[The camera pulls back to show the farmland, scattered with people in black going about their work because business stops for no one, and a solitary figure by the gravestone. Bob Dylan's Blowin' in the Wind plays as the end credits roll.]

"How many roads must a man walk down, before you call him a man?

How many seas must a white dove sail, before she sleeps in the sand?"

The end.

@howmanyholesinswisscheese The challenge has been issued.

[astarionfixation]

Am I Fu**ing Insane !?!

A multi chapter adventure in Astarion's mind

Chapter 2 - +As if I had been kissed by mint leaves all over+

Rating: eventually Explicit but just a lot of mind tease so far.

Word count count: 2.3k

Pairings: Astarion X OFC Tav

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54356776/chapters/137824306

I have a quite serious praise kink. Which also means compliments in the forms of tags and/or comments might very well spur me to write and post more

Teaser:

In an exasperated sigh he breathes in again and all the effort he put into keeping lucid since he got back into her room is crashing down upon him. The nauseatingly spiced mix of wine and flowers assaulting his senses once again, and her breath caressing his face as he just now realises he must have leaned in without thinking. *As if she’s not been a damned little inconvenience already!* But that’s when she begins stirring and the image of the moment when he was just that close to her a few hours prior, flashes in his mind again. Her warm fingers on the back of his neck as traitors ready to find a spot to bury a dagger  *I should know! I’ve played this game before, you hussy! better than you ever will!* Those fingers seemingly trying to grasp at him just before a soft whiff of that intoxicating scent escaped her lips when she hummed, barely intelligible: Stay.

Chapter Two - *as if I had been kissed by mint leaves all over*

Notes: *Astarion's Thoughts* +quotes from her journal+ "audible dialogue" -remarks-

aul iasa nha tho is Elvish for "in vino veritas", otherwise said "In wine there's truth" or the general idea that people are much more guileless when intoxicated.

He must’ve read those pages so many times that it’s surprising how they have not been worn out. And the fact he doesn’t technically need to sleep surely hasn’t helped the surprise quickly turn to addiction.

*How could I have not noticed?!*

The tightly kept book gave him more access to her mind, her actual thoughts, that any connection the worms might have forced them to share, and that’s likely why everyone promptly agreed to stay out of everyone’s business for the time being. And it wasn’t quite like he meant to break that deal, he was just severely unprepared for what he had found in that insignificant shiny little volume. All handwritten. By her.

Along with the odd note of information gathered during the last few days, the pages were filled mostly with just her reflections, clearly never intended for eyes that were not her own deep ones, eyes he never felt lingering on him more than the time it was necessary to be called for duty, to be addressed as politely as an accidentally forced companionship put them together. And he was supposed to know, to see, to read people and understand how to play them as if fiddling with an instrument he himself had built from scratch! The countless souls he alone had enticed and played every key, including -especially- the dark, heavy ones. Then how could he have missed the eyes she had been looking at him with? How could he have missed the intention? How could she have walked this earth without a tenth of the time he had and compete with his own ability to mask and dissipate any impression of sentiment or feeling?

He started to genuinely wonder if there could have been a mistake, perhaps she had been keeping the little metallic book for someone else *and yet I saw her and her damned quill on it! I saw her unimpressed and vacant eyes!* while clearly less than a day ago her thoughts must have been so focused on him they should have burnt a hole in his back:

+I cannot cope with the heart rending clench, from my stomach to the tip of my hair, diffusing a cold, quivering heat as if I had been kissed by mint leaves all over in just a moment, every time his voice pours, like honey, into my ears+

He found himself catching breath he didn’t need for hours, disgusted surely by the idea that she kept him in her mind so often, yet compelled to scrutinise every single line, with no chance to concede that even just one word she spent on him could have gone amiss. He had dozens of pages to commit to memory before sunrise, now that his plans toward individual freedom had suddenly fallen apart. There was no tadpole solution, no way to charm and dominate the worms, nothing to guarantee he could remain himself while still feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin.

*Nothing to guarantee the warmth of her skin if her thoughts get consumed until there’s nothing left of her*

And he has to shake his head physically from the thought because *why!? Why would she be the issue now!?* when he has his own thoughts, his own brain to worry about, his own survival as the only thing that has kept him unnaturally alive for over two centuries, well before she was barely an idea in her parent’s minds! 

His arm pulls back and the book’s metallic cover hits the door he’s still sitting against. He should be throwing it with such force that would destroy that little insignificant piece of paper conjuring all kinds of soft, enticing visions, while none will help with their shared issue: they are all on borrowed time.

+it was a good delusion of power, as if anyone could really be just... So mature for their age... But that's another story, I don't like the stories of my memories, read in hindsight…+

And that’s what froze him in place. She doesn’t spell it out but just reading the words pulls his stomach just the same, he knows that feeling, the lulling comfort that the idea of pleasing a tyrant and taking each beating as a compliment will do. His eyes close and this time the little precious book is brought to his chest, just where his heart last beat all those centuries ago. And his tintless eyebrows furrow, his usually graceful traits tighten in what is almost a grimace, teeth clenching as his head shakes once more, but this time it’s because his own memories made stories out of his delusions of power, when no matter the amount of sacrifices he brought back every night, neither his body nor his mind were spared the abuse and humiliations from his cruel Master. Cazador’s looming body flashes behind his tightened eyes.

*Fourth: thou shalt know that thou art mine.*

The rules of his master played like an obsessive charm in his head over and over,  and then it’s kinder, it’s easier to embrace what felt like the only power he had, seducing and pleasing whilst hoping for the lesser beating.

It does not matter that air is not needed now, because the sharp intakes cut through his lips and down to the bottom of his lungs, and his lips pull almost as if from muscle memory and like he so often did before. To please and appease him, to make the punishment shorter and numbing his own mind for longer.

And all of a sudden it all stops. His arms feel as if they are strained by efforts he does not recall, the heavy door behind his back certainly not as comfortable as the bed in front of him and 

*oh yes, the little useless book* 

The book that gave him no more freedom he had the night before. He would throw it mindlessly but his hand finds a way to just leave it to rest on the floor, while with an agile movement he’s back on his feet, and in a moment he’s theatrically falling on the bed, face hitting the pillows first, and a long unnecessary breath empties his lungs with the last remnants of something that reminds him of mulled wine and flowers.

—-----------

The noise of boots outside snaps him out of his trance just when the last of the candles must have burnt out as a swirl of smoke still rises in the otherwise darkened room. Voices muffled behind the door tell him his companions are only now getting to their beds which means not much will be expected of him that morning.

*Thank fuck!*

His arms move the pillow around to bury his face onto it and hoping to fall into trance again when a deeper sigh rises from his chest, and he knows. He knows what he has to do to avoid any consequences to befall upon him. Never before a sleight of hand has failed him so spectacularly and now he's not only stuck with the merry fellowship of warmbloods ignorami 

*no closer to understand and control the worm in my head*

but now with the knowledge that their pretty, little accidental leader has had her eyes fixed on him way more often than he ever realised.

*Shit… does she know?* 

And with that thought he rolls on his back, the crook of his elbow sheltering his eyes and with a final exasperated sigh he pulls himself up. Even in the darkened room he can see the metallic cover trying its best to reflect whatever resemblance of light it can catch. His long, delicate fingers pick it up and he finds himself almost laughing at himself

*You thought this was going to be your freedom and now you're just more chained to her them*

Of course he's just stuck being a monster, what did he expect? He gathers the book in his hands and not far, discarded by the door, he finds the small lock, the mockery of having to use his lockpicking skills to put it back together does not escape him.

Once the lock is back in place there’s only one thing left to do. His resignation has almost taken over if it wasn’t for that tinge just at the bottom of his stomach that wishes for him to destroy the book, destroy the room and have splinters find their way under his skin so that maybe, hopefully, the pain will take his attention away from the spectacular failure he is.

*serves me well for conceding anything to hope*

In a flash he’s out of his door, gliding through the shadows. The corridor should simply bow to his graceful presence as he approaches her room. Again.

His hand pushes the door slightly and in a moment he’s in, this time making sure the lock is turned just to avoid any sudden interruption, and within a few seconds his senses are assaulted once again by that scent that makes him feel both a drunkard and abstinent by necessity more than choice. A sigh is the loudest noise he allows himself to make as he exhales: the less he has her scent in his lungs, the easier it will be to ignore it.

Her breath is deep and regular which gives him information enough to carefully reach for her bedside table where her bag was discarded, and indeed, it’s still there waiting for him, half open. The little book still in his hand and he’s just about to place it back there

*Like absolutely nothing ever happened*

And in that moment he realises, as soon as it’s back, it’s gone. His one window to her unadulterated thoughts is gone. The one access he has ever had to someone, anyone’s actual idea of him that wasn’t serving a purpose or trying to extort something from him. If her behaviour had fooled him so completely then it was reasonable to consider the possibility she never intended to act upon any of her reflections, and the book held so many he found himself cursing the fact his elven life ended earlier and lasted much less than his immortal one, before he could learn how to commit to memory more enduringly that the last few hours perusing the little tome allowed him.

*nasty little tease! letting my mind slip that far back!*

His head shakes slightly and a bitter smile pulls the corner of his lips. There’s no point crying over spilled milk again. His hand doesn’t even touch the bag, but the book is back in it, as if it never left. With his body crouched next to bed he can see the look on her face, the look of someone who has really been peacefully resting for the last few hours, completely and utterly unaware about how she has taken that peace almost directly from him: he should have rested, he should have gone hunting and the mere thought reminds him of that dry, stinging feeling in his throat. But instead of satiating his hunger, gaining any ounce of strength back, any semblance of mortality, he just wasted the entire night on that vexatious little book that she guarded so intensely for absolutely no reason. 

*Nothing no one of value in it!*

In an exasperated sigh he breathes in again and all the effort he put into keeping lucid since he got back into her room is crashing down upon him. The nauseatingly spiced mix of wine and flowers assaulting his senses once again, and her breath caressing his face as he just now realises he must have leaned in without thinking.

*As if she’s not been a damned little inconvenience already!*

But that’s when she begins stirring and the image of the moment when he was just that close to her a few hours prior, flashes in his mind again. Her warm fingers on the back of his neck as traitors ready to find a spot to bury a dagger 

*I should know! I’ve played this game before, you hussy! better than you ever will!*

Those fingers seemingly trying to grasp at him just before a soft whiff of that intoxicating scent escaped her lips when she hummed, barely intelligible: Stay.

And she might just have given him an excellent solution. Out of that image it finally dawns on him: 

*For all she knows, I have never left*

As if the mystification of the last hours had never happened, he can just slip back into the flirtatious role that she last remembers, and at that, he whisks himself up and his leg gracefully drapes over hers so that in the next moment his body is now behind hers, without so much as a breath *or heartbeat* skipped on her part. She wanted him to stay didn’t she? In hindsight it’s just like they say *aul iasa nha tho in vino veritas*. And now her tipsiness really reads as someone’s infatuation, he had confirmation from her own well guarded thoughts, her fingers and heart committing words to paper that would have kept being nothing but denied by the demeanour she carries herself with, except for last night. 

*And isn’t it going to be a delight to coax the truth out of her own lips, when I already know I have her protection, before I even had a chance to persuade her so*

That is the first time the realisation dawns on him: no matter how well she hides her feelings, he is already under her skin, there is nothing that he can’t convince strangers to give him, the knowledge that 

+he’s on my mind, really almost all the time+

And *oh! What a terribly applicative concession!* He knows, before he even thought to strike, that he will hit the target in the perfect bull’s eye. The attainment of that awareness almost lets him enjoy, for the first time, fully, completely, the exhilarating aroma that she emanates, because in due time, understanding how that little precious tome has  opened her mind, her actual mind, to him, he now knows. 

Before he has to ask. 

He will taste her. 

Because she already says yes to him in every thought of hers he occupies.

[unwillingwriter]

Tornado Grace Williams

Summary: Grace Catches Wind that a certain woman is staying over at Steve’s house and isn’t happy about it. No one’s in Danno corner but Danno. But so is Grace. And Grace isn’t gonna allow her dad to get hurt cause her other dad wants to play stupid.

—-

Steve was in the middle of eating breakfast when Grace walked into his kitchen sitting across from him at the table throwing down her school bag on top, her arms crossed and without having to look under he knows she has one leg over the other .

She pins Steve with the ‘Danny look’ her nose scrunched and flared, a raging storm in her brown eyes, her tan cheeks a soft red. Steve has a sneaky feeling that he’s in trouble with the little one he watched grow up. The longer the silence stretched the more Grace looked as if she was losing patience, and the more she looked like her father when he’s gonna blow a fuse.

Steve opens his mouth but Grace cuts her off, just like her dad.

“What’s the matter with you?” Is the first thing that comes out her mouth.

What?. Steve puts his spoon down into his bowl of cereal looking at her with confusion.

“Have you learned nothing?, are you seriously that stupid!?” Now she was raising her voice

“Grace—“

“Cause if you hurt my Danno By taking her back I swear to you Steven McGarrett I’m telling my aunty— I may not be a rat— but I am if my dads feelings are involved!”

“Grace wait—“

“I know you’re letting her stay here—“

“Sweetheart—“

“And Danno said it was fine because you two are friends still but I don’t care, she could’ve stayed at a hotel, Hawaii has a lot !!”

“Grace Breathe—“

“Don’t leave my dad for her!” She snaps her hands slamming on the table as she shoots up from her chair knocking it back glaring at Steve, leaving Steve shocked. Grace had tears in her eyes, a light tremble happening through her body.

Steve stays quiet.

“Don’t leave him like mom did… don’t throw him away like grandma did when she found out he was bi, don’t do that! My dad is worth more than some hussy who just uses you and abandons you when she finishes with you! When she takes everything again! My dad is worth the love and time! So please, please don’t let her steal you from him. Please…”

And now she was crying, body trembling as she kept her stare firm.

“Gracie” Steve starts off soft, as if She was eleven again. And not eighteen

“Don’t hurt him, ‘cause if you do I will never forgive you. Danno puts his all when it comes to love. And he loves you Dad, he loves you so much that he’s allowing you to let Catherine stay here even though it bothers him.”

Steve opens and closes his mouth. Then opens again.

“Sweetheart, no one. And I promise you this. No one can replace your dad.”

“Yeah?, prove it by making her leave. This is yours and Dads house, not just yours anymore. So the decisions you make, you also have to make with him. Not just a one man choice”

“Grace”

“No one is ever in Danno’s corner but Danno. He forgets that I’m in his corner too and I’m not going anywhere, so I’m telling you to pull your head out your ass and clean the crap out your eyes and see what you’re doing, what she’s doing”

Grace snatches up her bag, picking up the chair and pushing in her chair leaving.

Steve flinches when he hears the door slam. Grace looked like her mother.

But had Daniels Spirit through and through. Stick up for the little man spirit.

And at this moment Danny was the little man and Grace was his biggest defender.