#also thousands of dollars of bills later...lol

[catboynecromancy]

🙃

[fangirlblogger]

Fangirl Analysis Five: Bill Skarsgard's Long Legs.

Hiii, girlies, I hope you're week has been going well so far. As for me, I have decided to put work on hold and bring this very special and important announcement or should I say, analysis of Bill Skarsgard's long and luscious legs. Because, it's more important than the minimum wage job that pays me to do what a seventh grader can do (I'm joking, I love my job and it's very challenging).

This analysis has been a request and I am about to bring that request to life. I believe science should study Bill Skarsgard's long legs because they encompass so much more than skin and bones. His legs are the epitome of the phrase "heaven is in the sky". When you follow those long legs from the toes up to the pelvic, you will surely find heaven. With that being said, let's go on this spectacular adventure of analyzing his ever-long legs.

Image 1 Analysis

Let me be honest girlies, if Bill Skarsgard stands in front of me like this in a suit, with that look on his face, I will drop to my knees and start worshiping him like he is Jesus. I will give that man the gluck gluck three thousand, correction - the gluck gluck infinity - until this man comes over and over again like a sinner that returns to God every night.

The way this man's legs goes on and on and never stops is the reason I wake up every morning. His long legs inspires me to live a long life.

This image is from 2019 when he attended the IT Chapter 1 premier in LA. Don't get me started on this film girl, I love love love it. I was so wet when Bill appeared on the screen without the full Pennywise make-up. Girl, I wanted this man to eat my insides with all that make-up on (and that's how my mask kink developed lol).

Case Study Question: Why do I want Bill Skarsgard to step on my throat with those long legs?

Not to sound insane and manic but duh it's Bill Skarsgard, I would rather have his long legs hurt my throat then have my throat being hurt from crying about my life.

Let's take a look at this image. The way he stands displays confidence and his confidence not only exudes from his body language but from his chic outfit as well. The shoes, goddam, they glisten like my pussy when Bill makes me wet. His suit girl, I have never wanted to be a suit so badly in my life. The dream to just wrap yourself around his perfect existence is so cosmical. I love how his entire outfit screams simple, yet elegant. The suit looks very expensive and it sure does make this man look like a Billion Bucks (starts playing Million Dollar Man by Lana Del Rey). Also, the suit goes well with the theme of the premier or the movie, which goes to show that this man is very careful about his craft. Hence, one can conclude that the man has great attention to detail and sense of style.

Moving on, let's take a look at his hands. They are slightly curled, making it appear as though all the weight from his upper body is resting on them. In other words, his hands are carrying all the sexiness from his shoulders. His hands look effortlessly relaxed, hanging down alongside his thigh. Also, have you guys noticed how long his hands are too? Goddamn, I have so many wicked thoughts about what those hands can do to me all day, all night (I might do an analysis on that later).

His face. This man has one of the most unique faces I have ever seen. Those eyes can make you come just by starring at them. The nose and the lips are gateway to heaven. I could sit on them for two seconds and I'm already in heaven moaning Bill's name over and over again. His hair in this image is very majestic. It's giving "I drink whiskey and live a BDSM lifestyle in country side mansion" and I am here for it.

And finally, to the moment we've all been waiting for: Bill Skarsgard's long and sexy legs. My oh my, his long legs can walk all over me any day and I'll ask him to do it again every damn time. Hunny, the way he has positioned his long legs on that red carpet is making me wish I was the red carpet. How I wish I could have been in that room when he was putting on those pants, just to see how perfectly his legs slid into the openings and how well they fit him. The two "Ls" in his name are his legs, and the "i" is what I am trying to gluck gluck on and get that "B" wet with my mouth, all day, all night.

Image 2 Analysis

Apart from loving forehead wrinkles, eye lines, smile lines, and the way a man rolls up the sleeves of his shirt to his forearm. I adore men who sit cross-legged. A man can sit however he wants but the moment he switches it up but putting one leg over the other, I am gone. Deceased. Simply trembling from inside out with so much pleasure. My pussy starts throbbing and I feel the juices slowly seeping out of my entrance. Girl, like a werewolf during full moon, I go feral. Truth be told, I would literally get in my knees and start sucking Bill's dick on the spot. I don't care if he's sitting like that in an interview, I will suck the life out of him, bring him to heaven and back.

Case Study Question: Why does this image motivate me to exist?

I love this man and his whole existence so much. I just want to appreciate him for existing. Therefore, this image is proof that Bill doing the bare minimum is more than enough for the Bill Skarsgard fangirlies to live to see another day.

Let's take a look at the way he is sitting. The grey pants go so well with his skin tone and the t-shirt that he is wearing. Also look at how his pants tightens firmly around his thigh when he has his right leg on his left leg. That tightness is a masterpiece; it's cosmological; it's a treasure. That tightness is how I want his legs to choke me when he places them on me. That tightness is the same way my pussy tightens when I stare at that image for more than 30 seconds. Forget about learning about art history, this is all the art history you need to have your lungs gasping for air when you're staring at this image.

Now look at the way his legs are dropping down, like my jaw is doing right now as I sit in awe and admire this image. The legs look so effortless laid on each other. He makes sitting cross-legged aesthetic and artsy. I read in an article that men who sit cross-legged during conversations illustrate that they are not interested in the conversation. Well in my view, I think that men who are able to do that in a conversation shows that they are comfortable and more interested because why else would they cross their legs if they are not comfortable and interested in the conversation? Welp, I'm not a behavioral therapist or physiologist so I wouldn't know anything but I do know about Bill Skarsgard. And I will conclude that he does look comfortable in this image and also so delicious.

Finally, let's take a look at that bicep. Girl, this man has the most effortless biceps I have ever seen in my life. There is a specific type of bicep that I go for and Bill's is definitely the epitome of that archetype (maybe I'll do an analysis of his biceps in the near future). The sleeve of his shirt is firmly gripping on that thick bicep. Lord how I wish I was that shirt. I could build a museum and dedicate it to his biceps because the world needs to see how divine his biceps are. Monalisa who? Throw that whole woman away, and provide Bill Skarsgard's biceps with a 24/7 surveillance and security. We need to protect them.

To conclude, Bill Skarsgard's existence is my ultimate motivation to keep living. To exist in the same lifetime as this men is a blessing. I am grateful to breath every day because I know that in a land far away from where I am, this daddy is breathing the same air as me. Heck, I might be breathing his recycled air, which is the air that went into his lungs and came back out, and girl now I'm breathing it too. I can't breathe, I'm swooning on the floor.

This post was requested by: @evren-sadwrn

[buffysummers]

on tonight's episode of "what the fucking fuck"

My dog, Anya, has been getting chronic ear infections since she turned 1. She's 3 now, and after spending thousands on vet bills (she basically had an infection every 6 weeks), my vet was like maybe you should go to the dermatologist. I was like, yeah, ok, makes sense. So, two months later (that's how long it takes to get an appointment) I finally go. Drop 463 dollars for them to check her ears out and give me medicine. But, like, that's just a temporary fix. A bandaid over a bullet hole, one might say. The issue is her allergies since that is what's causing her ear infections.

So, basically, I'm going to need to put her under anesthesia so they can do a deep cleaning of her ears (this is a part of her ear that I cannot reach to clean, and it's so close to the eardrum so she needs to be put under because if she moves, her eardrum could get punctured and rupture) and then they're going to do a skin allergy test. After that, once we determine what she is allergic to, they are gonna create a serum to either inject her with or give it to her by the mouth for like 8-12 months. It's meant to help her build up a slight immunity to it. (She could literally be allergic to grass lol like I feel like that is what's going on). She will never be 'cured' like you can't cure allergies, but she will at least not be miserable and getting infections every 6 weeks.

Long story short, they just told me the estimate is going to be 3,277 dollars. There is no way I can afford that I couldn't even afford the 463 dollars today lol. I want to die. I feel so badly for her I just want her to be healthy and happy but like, even my sister, who has a really good job and is engaged to someone who also has a really good job, would struggle to pay this. I feel sick. There is no insurance for me to use to make this cheaper. I am fucked.

I just needed a place to rant and panic so just ignore me but please send good vibes Anya's way <3 She is, at the moment, not itchy because of the treatment I got today.

[scoutbert]

update on my life no one asked for? yeeeee

so. my father passed away last week. (Today is9/6/2021)

i had been living in my car since March due to a disagreement with him that escalated to near violence so i packed my shit up and left to escape him specifically.

theres a lot to unpack there but i will be saving the more feelings related details for my secret vent blog

anyways. due to this, my mother needs help with the bills now that she is paying for a home on her own income. we came to an agreement that i could return home if i help pay some bills. no big deal.

EXCITING GOOD NEWS: Ollie (my car) has been back on the road for a few weeks. A new transmission, new tie rod ends, and an oil change later (not to mention all that cost like. a fucking thousand dollars total.) he is back on the road and i am back to making decent money with doord*sh.

EVEN MORE EXCITING!!!!!

I AM NO LONGER HOMELESS!!!!!

I have my room back. My own bed. A place to shower, sleep, COOK, do laundry safely! Like. You don't understand. Cops pulling up on me when I am just trying to sleep in a parking lot? No more. Eating solely fast food, pre made and processed crap cause I have no way to refrigerate or cook shit? NO MORE!!! Waking up at 7am cause the sun coming up turns my car into a fucking oven even with all the windows down? HELL no.

Not to mention the extra spoons I can now utilize with my anxiety way back down. I was constantly in a survival state and that shit is EXHAUSTING. Now I can... Sleep in! Have air conditioning while I sleep! Pet my cats I missed terribly!

Would anyone be interested in me doing a masterpost or vlog detailing my coping strategies for being homeless?? I made a few diary vlogs on YouTube in the beginning to cope but quickly fell off that after a few videos. Just let me know, I only thrive off people asking me to do shit. Lol

Ah. I have also been very recently diagnosed with ADHD. Which is a huge development. Will make a separate post about that soon as well

So! Recap; I am no longer homeless, my car got fixed, my dad is dead, and I was misdiagnosed for over a decade before someone figured it out! Life is all about balance after all. /semi sarcasm

I wish everyone else a peaceful night and good dreams. I also hope you get to eat your favorite food very soon, or that something good happens to you. :)

As always, thank you everyone who helped me literally survive all that time. I would not be here to write this if it weren't for some of you kind and generous people. I love you. 💙

[thepoliticalpatient]

How to get your Humira level tested thru Prometheus

I started taking Humira for my Crohn's in July of last year. Getting onto this medication was a gigantic pain in my ass, but I actually think the part that ended up being the hardest was dealing with getting my levels tested, so I wanted to write a post detailing that process. There is lots of info here that I wish I had known at the start. I actually have been wanting to write this post since last September, which was when I actually had the test done, but the whole situation didn't get fully wrapped up until today, 6 months later, and I didn't want to write it until I had complete information.

I will try very hard to make this an informative post and not just a rant but I'm not sure I have the self-restraint tbh.

OK, to start: what even is this test? With biologics, you need to maintain a high enough concentration of the drug in your system, to prevent your body from producing antibodies against the medication, and for it to be effective. My (now former - more on that soon lol) gastroenterologist is pretty passionate about making sure his patients keep a good level and will have them go on a weekly dose instead of the normal every-other-week dose if their levels aren't to his liking.

Importantly, the timing of this test is vital. You can't get it measured in the days immediately after you inject or your levels will be super high. The goal is to find out what the level is when it's at its lowest, i.e. in the day or two before your injection. My (former) gastroenterologist wanted me to get this test done between my second and third doses. That didn't end up happening because of how much of a clusterfuck this whole thing was.

So this test is only done by one company in the United States, Prometheus Biosciences. The name of the test is Anser ADA. They also have similar tests for measuring the levels of other biologics, like Anser IFX which measures Remicade levels (ADA = adalimumab, which is the generic name for Humira; IFX = infliximab, or Remicade). They have tests for Stelara and Entyvio too. If I had to guess, I'd say that the info in this post is probably pertinent to those tests as well, but I cannot guarantee it. I only know for sure about my own experience with Anser ADA.

Because this test can only be performed by Prometheus, it is likely that you cannot just go to your hospital's lab and have them draw your blood. It's possible they will do this draw for you and mail the blood to Prometheus, but you'll want to be certain to clarify this with your doctor.

My doctor's office gave me a lot of extremely wrong information, so I had no idea about this. I actually showed up at my hospital's phlebotomy lab on the morning before my third Humira dose, handed them a form that my doctor's staff had given me that contained the order for the bloodwork, and they took my blood and I thought I was done with it. Then WEEKS later at my next appointment with my doctor, he was like "did you ever get that Prometheus test done?" and I was like "wait do you not have the results back from the blood I gave weeks ago?" and he was like "you absolute imbecile, we can't do that lab for you, you need to schedule that with Prometheus's phlebotomists" (I'm paraphrasing a little bit here). To this day I have no idea what happened to the blood I gave at the lab! I assume they were like "wait what do we do with this lol" and then threw it in the garbage and didn't bother to inform me????

This was just one of many bad experiences I’ve had with this doctor/hospital, but this was the one that finally pushed me over the edge. I have since changed to a new GI at a different hospital (which was its own fucking saga, omg, it should not be so hard to get your medical records transferred from one hospital to another).

ANYWAY, my point is, be very certain to talk with your doctor about whether your hospital can draw this blood for you. If they can't, you have to call Prometheus to set up a draw with them.

Prometheus is located in California but contracts with a network of phlebotomists throughout the country. You can set up an appointment for a phlebotomist to come to your home to draw your blood.

For some goddamn reason, instead of equipping their phlebotomists with the supplies they'll need, Prometheus will mail you a package ahead of your appointment that contains some supplies.

Here's my next pro-tip: Prometheus will use some very scary language to make it sound like you need to be waiting right at the door when this package arrives and to immediately put some of the contents of the package into the freezer or else something terrible will happen. This is not true. What's actually happening here is that the package will contain some shipping supplies, including an insulated container and an ice pack, which the phlebotomist will need in order to store your blood safely. They want you to pre-freeze that ice pack before the phlebotomist arrives so that it will be ready to go as soon as your blood is drawn. That's it. So there's nothing in the package that's gonna, like, go bad or something if you don't get it into the freezer right away.

The whole thing was kind of stressful because I didn't have any tracking info on the package or anything, but it did arrive ahead of my appointment.

Okay so the next big topic here is PAYMENT. This is a $2,500 test, and most insurance doesn't cover it.

Around the same time I scheduled the draw with Prometheus, I sent a message to my insurance carrier to ask whether they would cover the test. The rep who replied to my message needed to know the CPT code for the test and the NPI for Prometheus, which I found on Prometheus's prior authorization form here. The insurance rep then said that this test would require my doctor to complete a prior authorization. If I got the prior auth, then insurance would cover the test at the out-of-network rate, which would require me to pay 35% of the cost. Without the prior authorization, they would deny the claim entirely.

I sent a message to my doctor's office asking them to complete the prior authorization stat, as I had already scheduled the draw with Prometheus and there wasn't much time. I was hesitant to cancel my draw, because that would require me to wait at least another 2 weeks (since you have to time the draw with your Humira doses), and I was already months later on this test than my doctor had originally wanted because of the whole snafu with thinking I could get it drawn at my hospital. My doctor's assistant replied and said she didn't think they'd have time to complete the prior auth, but not to cancel my appointment. She assured me that Prometheus would not charge me more than $75 if my insurance denied the claim.

I was extremely nervous about this. I was mainly concerned because I had found this info about Prometheus's payment assist program, which says that they'll reduce the charge to $75 if your income is below a certain threshold, and mine is not. Based on the info on that page, it looked like I didn’t qualify for any cost reduction, so I was pretty convinced they were gonna charge me the full $2,500.

Looking at the claims on my insurer's website, I see that Prometheus indeed tried to charge my insurance $2,500 for the test, and my insurance denied it. There is an additional $50 claim to my insurance, which insurance did pay, which I think was for the cost of having the phlebotomist visit my home.

Prometheus sent me several mailers about their payment assist program, which I just ignored because my income is too high. And for the next 6 months I sat anxiously waiting to receive a bill in the mail for several thousand dollars.

Well I'm happy to report that today, I finally received the bill from Prometheus, and it is for $75. I don't know why exactly they reduced it to that amount, but I am certainly not going to complain.

Now, I'm not certain of this, but my GUESS would be that the $75 rate is only for people who are doing self-pay. So, hilariously, if I had gotten the prior authorization done on time, my out of network coinsurance would have required me to pay 35% of the total claim, which would be $875. So, I mean....I can't guarantee that your experience will be the same as mine, but it seems to me like it is to your advantage to not go through your insurance for this test.

Oh, and Prometheus will NOT hold your test results hostage while they try to get paid. They sent the results to my doctor soon after the draw. And my levels were good!

ANYWAY, this was long, but I wanted to share everything I wish I had known before going through this. I hope it will help someone else who is trying to navigate this process!!!

[toeil]

summer is over, and so are we. [2] ↠ jung jaehyun

[pt.1] [pt.3]

➹ jaehyun x reader x doyoung ➹ genre: angst, fluff ➹ word count: 3,343

➹ summary: He introduced you to a warm summer you thought you would never have to leave. Yet, here you are, in the middle of a ruthless winter which’s ending seems to be nowhere in sight.

a/n; totally forgot to ever post the part 2 for this...i was going through my google docs and i found this and the part 3 so im just gonna post it now LOL it’s old so my writing is kind of funky but i tried to fix as much as i could without rewriting the whole thing smh 

“Are you going to go on another date with Doyoung?” You could feel Johnny shift his gaze from his phone screen over to you. 

“You already know the answer to that.” You sounded disinterested as you continued to scroll down the current page you had opened on your laptop. 

“Let me rephrase. Go on another date with Doyoung.” You sighed and turned your body towards him on the couch, “Johnny, sometimes just understand things, alright?” 

“You make me really sad, y/n. It’s been a year, when will you allow yourself to move the fuck on?... Jaehyun has.” He mumbled the last part to himself, hoping it would fall on deaf ears. But of course it didn’t. 

Your shoulders stiffened up, “Jaehyun’s dating someone?” 

Johnny offered you a sympathetic look, “yeah. She’s the daughter of one of his mom’s friends. You don’t know her.” You looked away from him and nodded, returning back to your laptop screen. 

Johnny tried again after a few minutes, “Doyoung said he had a lot of fun at the bubble tea place you guys went to. He really likes you, you know? I really think you should consider going out with him again. Maybe you guys could go to the carnival.”

The mention of the carnival piqued your interest, “the carnival?”

“Yeah! You know the one that comes every year and sets up at the river?” You knew it well. That carnival was one of Jaehyun’s favorite things and he went every year. You knew because he used to tell you stories about it all the time, you never knew such crazy things could go down at a carnival. You were supposed to go with him last year, but because of work you had to cancel and promised to go with him the next year. Oh, how foolish you were then.

“Never heard of it.”

“Really? It’s a lot of fun. You’d enjoy it, especially if you went with Doyoung!”

If you went would you see Jaehyun? “Alright...I’ll go.” 

“With Doyoung?”

“With Doyoung.” 

Next week rolled around and although you admit you weren’t extremely excited for today, as soon as you stepped out of Doyoung’s car you felt yourself start to feel a little bubbly at the sight of the carnival in the distance. It was dark enough for the owls to nestle into their homes up in the trees, but the stalls and booths and the rides that were still set up all vibrated with brightly colored neon lights that the moonless night was soon forgotten by everyone. Since it was so late, not a single child was running rampant with parents chasing them around, and that definitely was a plus. You looked around and watched people's excitement seemingly increase with each step they took towards the entrance, laughing and shouting next to their friends about what the night ahead them was going to hold.

 As soon as you got in, you noticed the carnival was a lot bigger than you had pictured. There were two roller coasters, big ones with loops, a drop tower, a ferris wheel, and even bumper cars. They had also set up, what looked like to you, a thousand booths. Ones where you could play games and win prizes of various sizes and values and ones where you could get palm readings and such. You wondered how difficult it must be to move this stuff around from place to place. 

Your eyes found their way back to the rollercoasters and you felt that tiny ounce of excitement start to fizzle out with nervousness and regret. But as soon as you looked up towards Doyoung you felt your fizzled out excitement being replaced with something else you couldn’t decipher. It wasted no time in spreading through your chest. His eyes were shining brighter than the lights ahead of you, and you swore you had never seen someone smile so big; he was practically glowing from the inside out. 

“Where do you want to go first?” He asked, practically bouncing.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him, “wherever you want to!” 

“Should we ride the rollercoaster first?” He watched your face drop and he miserably failed at trying to stifle his laugh.

“Oh haha, yes very funny,” you rolled your eyes, “you know what? Let’s go ride both of the rollercoasters right now! I’m not scared! And I refuse to ride them after we eat funnel cake.”

“I was just joking, we really don’t have to ride them! Like at all, if you don’t want to.” You straightened yourself out, “I want to. C’mon! Let’s go.” You two paid for the red wristbands which would allow you to ride any of the rides, and made your way over to the first roller coaster. The line wasn’t long so in no time you two found yourselves getting buckled into the ride. Your arms were heavy, your knees were weak, and your palms were sweaty. You could practically feel your soul leave your body and the ride hadn’t even started moving yet. Doyoung, on the other hand, already had his adrenaline pumping. He looked over and noticed your stiff body language and asked if you were okay. 

“I’m fin- oh god, it’s moving.” Your body jerked up as soon as you felt the roller coaster car start to slowly inch forward. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Doyoung move his arm over to you, “you can hold onto me if you’re scared, y/n. It’s okay.” At this point, the roller coaster car was at the peak of the ride, and as soon as the chains released the cars you wasted no time in grabbing his arm and stuffing your face into his side, screaming.

Doyoung has his free arm lifted up in the air and he’s happily screaming. His heart’s thumping loudly against his chest and he can very clearly hear it in his ear, and maybe it’s because of the ride or maybe it’s because you’re wrapped around his arm. Probably both. Either way, he was enjoying it. 

Once the ride was over you finally let go of him and let out a sigh of relief. You slowly ask him, “should we go on the other one now?��

“Maybe we can save that for next time?” Next time?

“Yeah, next time, that works for me.” 

“Look at that flamingo!” Your eyes followed Doyoung’s finger towards a ring toss game. There was a giant fluffy pink flamingo hanging at the top attracting everyone's attention. “Let’s go try to win it!” 

Doyoung paid the staff member and got a bucket of rings for five dollars and within seconds he had used up all the rings. He huffed, “what the heck?...Excuse me,” he pulled another five dollar bill out of his wallet, “can I try again?” The staff member collected the rings he had just thrown and handed them back to him, “good luck!” Doyoung tried again and got only one ring which earned him one of the smaller prizes on the bottom shelf. He clicked his tongue out of annoyance, “keep it. I want to try again for the flamingo.” You silently chuckled to yourself watching him get frustrated over a ring toss game. He tried again and failed...again. He turned to you in disbelief, “oh my god??? y/n this game is rigged! Let me tr-”

“No! Doyoung, let’s go walk somewhere else and then we can come back okay?” You could tell he wanted to protest but he bit down on his tongue and decided to follow you away from the ring toss game. “Oh, look. The balloon dart game looks a lot easier.”

“But the prizes suck.” 

You hummed, “yeah, they aren’t as cute at the flamingo. Let’s go get funnel cake and then let’s go on the drop tower and then we can go back to the ring toss and I’ll give it a shot this.” 

“The drop tower?? Are you sure?” He eyed you suspiciously.

“Yes! I actually really like the tower drop! And it’s not even that high here.” 

He looked back at the tower drop peeking up over all the booths, “I don’t know...that looks pretty high to me.”

“Are you scared of it?”

“No! I’m just curious as to how you’d want to ride that but be scared of roller coasters that don’t even go up as high as that.” He retorted.

“The world works in many mysterious ways, Kim Doyoung. Now come on, let’s get in line for the funnel cake.” 

While you two shared a plate of funnel cake at the seating area under a tent, without noticing, Doyoung had gotten quite a bit of powdered sugar all over his jeans. When he stood up you couldn’t help but double over in laughter, “how’d you get all that on your pants!?” You tried to say between breaths. His face turned a light crimson color as he turned his back towards you and tried to wipe it off around the crotch area of his jeans. “It’s not my fault they put so much of that stupid sugar!”

After you had calmed down from your laughing fit and Doyoung had calmed down his racing heart, you two made your way to get on the drop tower. When you got off,  you complained about how it wasn’t as climactic as the one at the amusement park. 

Soon enough, you guys had come back around to the ring toss game, just like you had promised. This time, you gave up five dollars for the bucket of rings but just as you were about to toss the first one, Doyoung stopped you. “Wait, let me try one more time.” You gladly handed it over to him and felt your heart warm up at the sight of him closing his eyes to try and prepare himself. 

A few seconds later your ears caught on to a boyish laughter coming from behind. You knew exactly who it belonged to. That was a sound you could never forget. Every nerve and cell in your body told you not to, but you turned around anyway. And there he was, laughing with some unfamiliar girl next to him. She gave him a little flirtatious shove, which only egged on his honey-like laughter even more. He looked down at his feet as he stumbled a few steps away from her. As he brought his gaze back up, his eyes fell on you standing a short distance away from him. His smile began to falter as he froze in his spot, watching you with a sort of surprised and confused look. This was the first time you had seen each other since the break up and it felt weird. You felt like your lungs were being compressed and there was no room for you to breathe. 

He looked different. The clothes he was wearing were different from what he’d usually feel comfortable in. His natural silky black hair was dyed a soft brunette color. The earring you had gotten him a while ago was replaced with another silver one that dangled from his ear. This wasn’t the Jaehyun you were used to seeing everyday. You had him memorized, but staring back at him now, it was like you knew nothing. He just felt different. 

The longer you stared at him the more you felt your brain wanting to reminisce about what you two had shared. And as soon as you felt your eyes start to sting, you swung back around. Doyoung felt your arm brush against his and he looked away from the ring toss game down at you with a grin, “y/n! Did you see how clos-...y/n?” He quickly set the bucket of rings down and his hands instinctively flew up to either side of your cheeks. His eyes had gotten wide with worry, “are you crying? y/n? Why are you crying? Wh- what happened?” His voice didn’t do well to hide his panic. 

You shook your head and sniffled, allowing your lips to form a weak smile, “I’m not crying! I had a sneeze coming, and it was so close so my eyes started to water. But now it’s gone.” Doyoung’s face instantly flushed a bright red and he removed his palms from your cheeks so fast, as if he had just touched a burning pot or something, “O-oh! Sorry! I didn’t- I just- I thought you were crying s-so I got worried.” 

You grabbed the bucket he had set down and pulled out a ring. You cleared your throat and allowed yourself to let out a soft chuckle, “It’s fine....Can I try?” He enthusiastically nodded and moved to the side to give you some room before grabbing a ring for himself, “I think if we both throw some at the same time then we might get a few in and finally win.” 

He was right. You two had won the game and watching Doyoung become so ecstatic for a stuffed toy had you quickly forgetting about that small encounter with Jaehyun. Doyoung had wanted to give you the flamingo, claiming he wanted to win it for you, but you insisted he kept it because he was the one who got in the last ring that won you guys the game. And after a short amount of back and forth bickering, he had accepted it. Now you two were seated on the ferris wheel, looking up at the sky and taking in the beauty of the stars that were scattered perfectly across the night. 

“Hey, can I give you something?” 

“Sure.” “Hold out your hand.” You obliged and held your hand out, palm facing up. Doyoung reached in his pocket and brought it back out, closed in a fist. He hovered his fisted hand over your open one, and when he opened it, nothing fell out. Before you could allow yourself to feel confused, he had grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. Your breath got caught in your throat at the feeling of his warmth spreading to your hand, slowly traveling up to the rest of your body. He let your now enclosed hands fall down to his side and leaned over the ferris wheel car to look below to try and act unbothered, but you didn’t miss the embarrassment creeping up his neck. Your eyes traveled back down to your hands and you felt a shy smile begin to form on your mouth. 

That night you laid in bed having trouble falling asleep because of this new feeling that was forming in the pit of your stomach. Because of this weird burning feeling that you felt on the same hand Doyoung had held. Because of the uncontrollable beating of your heart. Because of your thoughts running wild with Doyoung’s name. Because you couldn’t think of Jaehyun even if you wanted to. 

Maybe you were finally ready to move on. 

5 years later

Today was the day you had always dreamed of for yourself ever since the first time you had led the wedding ceremony for your barbie doll and her other half, Ken. Today you were marrying your other half too, Kim Doyoung. 

You dated him four years, and was engaged to him for one. When Doyoung first asked you to be his girlfriend, you had yes because you realized you deserved to be able to find a loving person just like everyone else. And Doyoung was exactly that. At first you were afraid you’d be wasting his time, but when you realized that you never once compared Doyoung to Jaehyun, or even thought about Jaehyun when you were with him, you knew you weren’t using him or anything like that. And after that was when you realized you were in love with him and his bratty attitude. 

You were currently waiting in your bridal suite, completely ready since half an hour ago. The crowd of your friends and family that were helping you had finally left to give you some space, so now you were seated in front of your mirror in an empty room, trying to calm your racing heart and shaky hands. This was a huge step in your life and you couldn’t help but feel extremely nervous. 

You heard two soft knocks at your door and exhaled, “come in.” The door hesitantly creaked open.

“J-Jaehyun? What’re you-”

“Hey.” 

“...Hey?” It’s not like this was your first time seeing him after that day at the carnival. You had seen Jaehyun at gatherings and parties you went to plenty of times. But you two didn’t talk often, and weren’t really friends or anything, so you’re surprised to see him here. He was invited to the wedding but why is he here alone with you right now?

“You’re getting married today.”

“I am.”

“How do you feel?” His face was extremely hard to read.

“Jaehyun...do you need something?”

“I just wanted to talk...about what happened.”

“What happened?” You scoffed, what the hell is he thinking? You had imagined this scenario in your head many times before, when you would finally be able to talk to him about your past. But you didn’t ever picture it being on your wedding day. Quite frankly, you didn’t want to talk about it now, or ever for that matter, anymore.

He sighed and sat down on the chair a few feet away from you, “Just hear me out, okay?” He took your silence as an okay for him to continue.

“I broke up with you because I thought it was for the best. We were getting really serious, and I knew if we stayed together for any longer it would be harder for me to break it off. From the very beginning of our relationship we had an expiration date. I knew we couldn’t be together for a long time, but I was selfish and didn’t consider your feelings.”

“What do you mean?”

Jaehyun’s eyes were starting to water under the room lights, “I’ve mentioned to you before how much my mom has done for me, right?” You nodded, your face softening at the mention of his mother who had sacrificed so much for him. “Well, I promised myself I’d do anything and everything in my control to make her happy and have her never worry about me. She liked Jisoo a lot and always mentioned her to me. She never said it to me directly, but I knew she wanted us to be together. So I was going to do just that, I’ll admit I did harbor feelings for her, but I knew once we started dating, she would be the one I would have to settle down with. Because of that, I dated a lot of girls for short periods of time that I liked. And you were supposed to be the same. But as our relationship progressed I would find excuses to just date you for a little while longer.”

“Jaehyun, stop, please? I don’t- I don’t need this right now, okay? I’m about to get married in less than an hour.”

“I know...I’ll stop...I just- I need you to answer one thing for me. And you have to be honest.”

“What is it?”

“Do you love me?”

“...What kind of game are you trying to play with me?”

“I’m not trying to play any game with you, y/n. I just need to know.”

You didn’t reply for a while, and just stared at him. Trying to figure him out. When you finally decided to reply, you released a heavy sigh “I think I’ll always love you, Jaehyun.” 

He gave you a sad smile. “...The day we broke up, I told you it was because I didn’t think I could always love you, right?...I wasn’t lying. Because y/n, I don’t think I’ll always love you,” the tears he was holding back began to trickle down his face, “I know I will.”

[1zashreena1]

The Homicide is Hot -12

18+, m/f/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess struggles with her own morality. But all cats are gray in the dark, right? Oh, and Diego has an epiphany.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Literal murder guys, seriously*** Protective Diego, feels, a blow job, plus size woman+fit man, insightful and helpful Julio, f o r e s h a d o w i n g

A/N:  Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you would like to be tagged or removed.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic​ @symbiont13​ @nicke0115​​ @bunnykjm​ @rosee-sensuelle​ @girlpornparadise​ @mandoplease​ @heresathreebee​ @xxsteph-enrixx​ @jetiikad​ @joalsglasses​ @mutantcookiesecrets​ @demoncatstone​ @squidlywiddly87​ @lockedoutofmyotherblog​ @poeedamerons​

gif by @el-cheung​

"Its hot when he's homicidal." There. You said it.

Okay but remember that time when he stabbed two dudes and carved an ear off of a third? And you were gonna like, die if you didn't blow him IMMEDIATELY??? 

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME.

Wait, wait. Maybe this is … good? That is not the correct word but you know what I mean. If I'm going to be with someone in his position then I need to be able to handle everything that entails, right? 

You glance over at TMP, the small stuffed panther is facing you on the breakfast bar. You know its ridiculous, but you feel like he's watching you. It only takes half a second, but you flip the stuffie around so he can't be a voyeur just like his namesake.

The small dry erase board in your lap reflects sunlight back up into your face. Its covered in anxious scribbles regarding last weekend, you're desperately trying to sort them into some semblance of helpfulness. It isn't going well.

I already know he is in love with me, straight out of the horse's mouth. Lol 'horse'.

Seriously. You cannot go one day without a dick joke. 

I love him. I mean, how can I claim to love someone if I don't accept all of them? He doesn't maim indiscriminately, it has a point. Is it justified? I don't know. Do I trust his judgment on it being justified? I think I do. I guess the better question is: Do I care? 

I'm already in it. He's paying half my bills, he already paid off all my debt. I've accepted so many gifts with the knowledge that they were bought with laundered drug money. Hell, every article of clothing I'm wearing right fucking now was purchased by Diego. Also, he said that those guys lost a shipment to the tune of EIGHTY THOUSAND DOLLARS, so you know, that's an accessory charge. At this point, even if I decide I have some arbitrary moral high ground, I'm definitely rolling around in a ditch, legally speaking.

You've always known that your morality was a bit off center than most people's, but being with Diego has put it into sharp relief. There are so many things that are illegal that you just don't care about. And your very visceral reaction that night was irrefutable proof.

-----------------------------

Last weekend

Diego does not like the cold. The heat in the SUV is turned way up, you already closed the vents on your side of the backseat. You're on your phone, pretending to ignore the massive hand sneaking under the hem of your dress while your legs are flopped over his lap.

Diego rumbles at you, the phone comes down just enough for you to peek over the top at him.

"Yes? Is there something you would like, my Murder Panther?" Your smirk is damn near audible as you question him. 

His eyes trail down to your lap then back up before he answers in a growl, "There is something I would love." The rockiness of his voice never fails to make you quiver just a tiny bit.

Just as those long fingers brush your thong his phone chirps. Repeatedly. And then starts ringing.

Diego snatches the cell out of his jacket pocket and hisses at the screen. Not good, you think. He answers it with a tirade of Spanish, shoots you an incomprehensible look, then retreats from you. Nooooo.

Being the only one in the car who doesn't speak Spanish is its own variety of delightful hell. Bastian and Julio are exchanging meaningful looks in the front while you just have to wait. Diego has gone quiet, which is utterly terrifying.

He disconnects the call, then passes the phone to Julio, who shows it to Bastian, who then changes course.

Diego reluctantly pulls your dress back down as you drop your feet to the floor. He raises a thick arm and tucks you into his side underneath it before kissing the top of your head apologetically.

"We have to run an errand."

-----------------------

The warehouse looks like it came straight out of a Law and Order episode. Its abandoned yet eerily lit from the inside, there is a suspicious assortment of motley vehicles parked outside, and two tattoo covered dudes toting semiautomatics appear as you pull up. 

"Please tell me those belong to you." You mutter quietly. Your immediate concern is Diego's safety.

Diego gives you the shark smile. "The men or the guns, Princess?" 

In the dark, at this incredibly sketchy location, and with the threat of violence thick in the air, he is actually a little bit scary.

You swallow the apprehension and glare at him with a raised chin. "Yes." You snap, crossing your arms in a stubborn huff. Holding his gaze right now is kind of intimidating but you manage it.

"Si, everything here is mine." His voice is hard as steel but the hand that comes up to grip your chin is gentle. It takes a second for you to realize that he is including you in that group. And that you like it.

You take in his features, those eyes are black in the darkness, but the silver in his beard glints in the partial moonlight. The defined jawline, his long straight nose, those perfectly framed velvet lips, thick brows and even thicker hair. So fucking gorgeous. Cupping his bristly cheeks, you whisper one requirement, "Just make sure to come back to me, baby."

Diego leans his forehead down on yours briefly, then kisses your nose. "Wait here for Diego, my Princess." His voice is dark and dripping with emotion. Julio opens the car door from outside and Diego steps out, adjusting his jacket and tucking the abalone-inlaid gun into his pants. He doesn't look back as they walk away.

Bastian steps out and closes the driver's door to smoke. The only door left open is the rear passenger next to where you sit. You're too preoccupied to stay focused on your cell. You look up to see that Bastian is on his phone, Probably his boyfriend checking on him. You can certainly understand that.

Faint voices float out of the open warehouse garage door, but everything is in Spanish. You slide down to the pavement and pace slowly. Its been almost twenty minutes, should you try to check on him? Each lap of pacing takes you ever closer to the empty doorway, purely by happenstance of course, until finally, finally, you can see people inside. 

There are three men kneeling on the floor, surrounded by at least two dozen others armed to the teeth. There are more guns than you have ever seen in your life, all being handled casually. Diego paces slowly in front of them, rattling off some rambling array of options, judging from his tone. Whatever he just said must have been unfavorable because two of the kneeling men start crying and begging. I should not be here.

Diego digs both hands deep into his pants pockets, as though searching for a lost item, only to pull out the larger of the switchblades that you know he always carries. Ambling forward, he snatches the man furthest from you by the hair and yanks his head back. The angle looks excruciating, but what happens next is infinitely worse. The blade glints under the overhead lighting as Diego slides it smoothly across the man's throat, triggering a cascade of red.

Diego just slit his throat.

Diego just killed that man.

Diego just committed murder.

You're frozen. Think. Think. If you move now someone will hear your shoes, you stuff a hand into your mouth just in case you make any noise. Your plum dress and black booties should blend into the night, thank fuck the dress is longer so there's less gleaming pale leg to reflect the moonlight.

I should go I should go back to the car I should go home. Your thoughts are racing but you can't look away as Diego skirts the rapidly expanding pool of blood and approaches the next man. He leans down to listen to the doomed man's pleas, one huge hand on his shoulder in mock comfort. Almost faster than your eyes can follow, Diego stabs him three times in the chest. The man coughs, then chokes on blood. Diego nudges him backwards to the floor with an expression of mild disgust before he can cough blood onto those exceedingly expensive shoes. The noise of his death is a quiet gurgle.

You can't feel your legs. Your stomach plummets and your heart rate leaps. This is Diego. This is my man. This is who he is and what he does. And this is what happens if you wrong him.

Just like I'm doing right now?

Sudden understanding makes your palms sweat and your jaw shake. Breathe. I trust him. You know, all the way down to the bottom of your soul, that he would never do anything like this to you. 

I'm different.

I'm special. 

I'm important. 

I have power.

The thrill of getting away with something courses up your spine. 

All of these men are his to command, available at his beck and call, and his to dispatch as he sees fit.

And you? Diego belongs to you. This powerful man chooses to kneel at your feet and pleasure you with his mouth, he dotes on you with gifts and gourmet dining, he waits for your text responses with baited breath. You want nothing more than to belong to him.

Movement snaps you out of your own head; Diego is approaching the last man, all confident stalk and predatory grin. A different feeling settles low and deep in your abdomen. Murder Panther. MY Murder Panther. 

Diego strokes over the man, no, this one is younger, the young man's hair. He is definitely an adult, but hasn't been for very long. Diego is whispering in his ear, the guy nods frantically and tilts his head toward you. You watch in morbid fascination as Diego carves off his ear. 

Diego wipes the blade off on the man's shirt, then pats him on the head as he walks off casually. He gestures to the group as he puts the knife away and they close ranks to help the lone surviving man to his feet and carry him off. 

Before you can jolt your body into retreating Diego turns to head your way. He glances up… and sees you.

His face, Oh no. Shock, horror, dismay, annoyance, and finally, determined resolution all cross his features in under three seconds. He uses his broad body to block you from his men's view and marches you back to the SUV. "Get in." He snarls, but he doesn't push you.

You slide all the way across the backseat to crash against the opposite side and Diego follows, slamming the door behind him and locking it. He scrubs a hand down his face and turns to you, expression grim.

You can't imagine what you look like, Probably a scared little bunny. But what you feel like? Oh, that is a different story. Damn near everything about what you just witnessed was so fucking hot. The actual homicides were kind of 'meh' (What is wrong with me???), but his power and ability and danger? Those you are definitely into.

He looks simultaneously defeated and defiant. "Well?" He barks with an expectant gesture. "This is me. This is what I do. You call me Murder Panther, but its different to see, isn't it, Princess?" The way he spits out his pet name for you hurts. He's lashing out in fear. He thinks I'm gonna run.

You keep your eyes locked with his as you reach out to his leg. He flinches at the contact but stays stiff. Your voice is smoky and dark, "I need you. Right fucking now. Give me your dick."

For the first time since you've met, Diego is speechless. His jaw hangs open while he watches you sink to your knees in front of him. Seemingly paralyzed, he just blinks as you rip his pants open and yank the material down over his hips. The instant you achieve clearance for his cock your mouth is on him. Your moan must vibrate the entire vehicle its so loud.

"Princess!" He finally gasps. "You. What. Fuuuck, what is. Oh, hell yes." His hips jerk and you dig your nails into his lower abdomen. He is fully erect in seconds, a little confusion isn't enough to cockblock Diego. Big hands flit through your peripheral vision erratically before settling on your head. The angle is finally correct and you slide him all the way down your throat, he practically howls with it. "Ahh, h-haaa. Jesus fuck, that feels so good. Shit, shit. Princesss." 

The way he calls for you, writhing with it, is almost too much. You moan back but don't stop bobbing your head on his length. Firm suction intermixed with sporadic long licks of your broad tongue have him leaking steadily in no time. Your left hand cups his balls, squeezing gently just to feel him tense up. He's salty, but not bitter. You want it. You need him.

Your right hand snakes down to hike up the dress. Once it’s over your wide hips you spread your knees so you can sink down onto his shoe. He doesn't notice at first, not until your hips start rocking in time with your suction. 

He grabs a fistful of hair to get your attention. "Are. Fucking christ woman, are you riding my foot?!" His eyes are huge, mouth open to pant.

You nod tightly, "Mm hmm." The moan vibrates all along his cock, causing his hips to rise off the seat.

"Ohh, oh fuck. You're so wet. I can hear it." He groans as though in agony. The thrusts begin to pick up pace and you grind down onto him. Your mouth can open just wide enough to accommodate the majority of his girth, you already know your neck is going to kill you tomorrow. Worth it. The skin of his cock is silky slick with both of you, he glides across your tongue easily but it requires pressure to fit him down your throat. Its like consuming fire, you're burning up from the inside out and its painfully perfect. 

In the darkness of the unlit SUV you can't see anything, you can only hear Diego moan and pant while your nose is buried in the soft hair on his lower belly. The intensity of being engulfed in his scent drives you to distraction, you grind down hard on his foot and you're so, so close. His hips lift off the seat to push deeper and you ride his motions, swallowing around the head of his cock. One enormous hand sinks deep into your curls, he pulls gently just because he knows you like it. His purr is deep, "My perfect little Princess."

That's all it takes. You drop your entire weight onto his foot to shudder and whine as an orgasm rips through you. Hips jerking in time with each spasm deep inside, you ride out all the waves without ever breaking rhythm on his dick.

Diego is frozen in shock as he realizes what just happened. He pulls you off, much to your whining disappointment, to stare down at you in awe. He stutters a little, "Good. Girl."

The instant he releases ringlets you dive down onto him with renewed vigor. The emphatic praise only spurs you on even stronger. Everything is wet; his dick, your mouth, his pants, your chin, the seat, your dress, his shoe. Everything. The sounds, the way he tastes, you're desperate to have him. 

"You want this? You want Diego?" His voice is so rough, so harsh. You nod tightly and moan for him, high pitched and hoarse. "Princess, so damn good, take it. Take all of me. Fuck, you look goddamn amazing on my cock." His hands stroke endlessly over your hair, his hips are jerking harshly and you know he is close. "Shit. Shit shit shit. Come," he is gasping, panting, "Come again for Diego, mi amor." His body stiffens, his legs shake, the grip in your hair tightens, and his head drops backwards to the seat as he pours down your throat in scorching jets. 

Diego collapses, boneless and breathless, but you don't release him. Your right hand shoots down between your legs to work your clit furiously while you continue suckling softly. 

"Yesss," he sighs upon noticing your actions. His voice drops low, overflowing with sinful threat, "You come for Diego. Pretty little Princess, all mine. Follow orders, come on your Murder Panther."

It breaks you. Your whole body seizes up as you wail for him, clenching down on nothing in painful ecstasy. Finally relinquishing his cock, you flop face down into his lap with an exhausted groan. Diego melts back into the seat and you both just lay there, panting.

Diego raps on the door window but stays slumped down and loose-limbed. 

Bastian unlocks the SUV, then pops the driver's door to stick his head inside. "Yeah, boss?" The blonde studiously avoids looking lower than Diego's face. You can hear Julio chuckling behind Bastian.

"Fuck the club. Take us home." Diego decrees lazily. You sputter joyful laughter directly into his pants.

You ride home curled up in his lap, snuggled into that salt and pepper beard you love so much while Diego feathers kisses all over your face, the knife cradled in your hands.

------------------------

Diego stumbles down the stairs the next morning, yawning hugely, only to find Julio in the kitchen, unashamedly raiding the fridge. Bastard, Diego chuckles.

"Manito! We need to talk." Julio gets right to the matter. "Before Gordita gets up." He adds pointedly.

Uhh, what. "Fine. Talk. Also, are you eating carrots at 10:12am??" That is disgusting.

Diego plops down onto a barstool and stares dejectedly at the espresso machine until Julio rolls his eyes and turns it on for him.

"Look, you need a check, eh?" Julio sighs but stands firm while Diego side eyes him suspiciously. When no objection comes, Julio forges on, "She saw you murder two people and cut an ear off a third last night, right? And her response was to blow you in the car? Fucking ride your foot to come, what, twice?"

Diego smiles dreamily, "Yeah. It was a good night." So. Much. Licking.

Julio passes him the steaming mug, "If you don't put a ring on it, pendejo..." 

Diego nearly drops the mug as his closest confidante walks off into the living room.

Shit, Julio is right.

[joonclouds]

A space situation

You sigh heavily and shut your eyes. The man was so intelligent, but days like this you wonder if sometimes his brain took unpaid leave.

“My house is literally a third the size of your closet.”

If this wasn’t your house you might have found it a little bit funny. But it is your house.

- 

Joon is your very rich very endearing sugar daddy but also very clumsy and sometimes rash in buying you whatever what he sees fit but it’s not very practical all the time. 

Namjoon x Reader

Genre: It’s a fluff party guys

Word Count: 3k

Note: Quarantine can be inspiring lol

- 

You don’t know you’re smiling, but it’s there. A tiny little smile lingering on your face as you watch the man in your kitchen from your crummy two-seater couch that barely fits into your living room.

It’s not a sight you’ll ever get used to seeing, you think, Namjoon with his designer suits and perfectly swept back hair, fumbling around in the drawers. He was wearing that new Dior shirt you had picked out for him last week.

When he’d came in to your dingy apartment, he’d removed his (probably very expensive) cufflinks and tossed them in your countertop dish.

“You shouldn’t treat your things so carelessly,” you chastised, taking them from the dish and moving them somewhere safer. Even in the cheap incandescent light, the large stones twinkle softly and you wondered how much they cost.

“They’re very pretty.”

‘What?” He’d glanced up briefly from his phone to see what you were holding. “Oh you like those? I can send them to my jeweler and get them set into earrings for you if you want.”

You nearly drop the cufflinks.

-

When he stands he bumps his head on an open cabinet.

He’s a bit befuddled for a moment and sends the cabinet door a look, but it quickly melts into a grin when he hears you giggle.

“Hey, don’t laugh. I’m six foot and this kitchen is literally made for someone who’s like five-nothing.”

God, you wanted to take a swim in those dimples.

You get off the couch and walk over, opening the second drawer to pull out a whisk and offer it to him.

“You’re the one who wanted to come to the dump which is my apartment, Joon.” It’s a matter-of-fact tone, but you can’t hide the twinkle in your eyes.

“I wanted to make you that dalgona coffee thing. But I don't have instant coffee at home. I didn’t know if it works with normal espresso.”

“You’re telling me you have a thirteen thousand dollar coffee machine at your place, and no instant coffee.”

Namjoon makes a face. “Instant coffee tastes like dishwater.”

You grab the bottle of instant coffee and shove it in his face.

“I love it.”

Namjoon shakes his head and grabs the glass jar from you, delivering a swift peck on your cheek.

“I love you.”

You blush, one hand going up to cup your face. To hell with butterflies in your stomach, this man truly gave the zoo a run for its money.

-

You’d met him while waitressing at one of those fancy fundraiser gala dinners. It paid the best, and between struggling to feed yourself and those overdue college bills, you were ready to swallow your pride and deal with the pompous crowd for a little while.

Namjoon had always thought it was a blessing he’d survived thirty three years not having broken a bone (well, he’s caused other people to break their bones, but that doesn’t count.) But that night, accidentally spilling his wine on you was the one time Namjoon ever felt truly lucky that he was a clumsy oaf.

You looked like a little deer, flustered and apologising, reaching for the nearest stack of napkins to fuss over the cuff of his jacket, when he should have been the one apologising to you. The two of you at a later point have recounted this first meeting and you still can’t believe he finds it hilarious that you were horrified, on the verge of tears because you thought he’d expect you to pay for his jacket.

Though you later understand why he’d find that funny. One thing more genuinely beautiful than his face was Namjoon’s heart. He’d insisted he book you a cab home (after understanding you didn’t have a spare shirt), and settled with your manager that you’d be taking the rest of the night off.

The next day he caught you by surprise, showing up on your doorstep in a cream cable knit sweater, and a black gift box adorned with a white camellia in hand (half out of apology, but also because he needed an excuse to see you). You’d opened the door, let out a strangled squeak and promptly slammed the door shut in his face. Later, he did get invited in when you didn’t so closely resemble a drenched version of Dobby, but it was unlikely you’d ever forget the horror of that moment.

-

Of course at first, your relationship was merely transactional - he paid you for your company, mostly at more of these fancy galas where he needed someone to distract the crowd while he really talked shop with the important people, and you.. well who were you, a mere mortal, to say no to that? It would get your bills paid, put food on the table, and Namjoon was kind, intelligent and not bad to look at.

Okay fine, he was great to look at.

Sure he’d been divorced once, but everyone has skeletons in their closets, right? Namjoon’s closet was three times the size of your apartment so there’d be plenty space to hide them. (Later, much later, you also become privy to the information that the guy could fuck you six ways from Sunday, but that’s besides the point… you think.)

-

After the parties on the way home you’d started to linger in his car. He’d walk you up the stairs of your dingy apartment complex. You hold hands, his large one dwarfing yours as the both of you walk as slowly as possible up the entire ten flights.

It was dangerous for you to walk alone, he said, but really, Namjoon wanted to talk to you a little while longer. You were nothing like he’d ever known. You were quiet. Listening. But really listening, not just waiting for your turn to talk. So different to the ditzy socialites in his circle who wanted only to talk about themselves.

Its not long before you're inviting him in for coffee - he drank your dishwater coffee quietly for the next three months before he suggested going to his place where the ‘real coffee’ was.

You fell fast, and you fell hard.

-

Not that you didn’t have your share of heated romances with people your age, but none of them really got you, listened to you as intently as he did when you rambled on about the inequality and hegemony of this world. You chalk it up to the fact that you’ve always been more mature than others - a result of circumstance. Not by choice, really, but it was what it was.

Namjoon always carried an air of introspection around him. Not intentionally. Many people took that for pride, but you realised quickly it was quiet confidence. He liked to listen and learn and observe.

On your coffee nights he begins to give you a glimpse of who he really is. Undoubtedly, he’s a Kim. That cool, nonchalant disposition was his battle armor. But beneath that you come to see the man who when you ask him about the telescope in the corner of his study, tells you he still entertains his childhood dream of being an astronaut. That on clear nights he likes to read Carl Sagan and look at the stars, wondering about the kind of lives they lead.

You learn he’s a great big klutz that breaks the handles off his cabinets ‘by accident’. You see the soft side that sometimes likes to read children’s books because ‘some of the best lessons in life are simple and humble ones’. And eventually the side that suddenly pulls you in closer in his sleep to his chest on rainy nights because he hates thunder. You always wake because you’re a light sleeper, but you’re glad you are, reaching up to smooth the furrow between his brows gently with a thumb before cuddling deeper into his embrace.

It’s also the first time he smiled at you. It was the week before his birthday, you’d given him a little resin keychain with little pressed wildflowers. He’d gone silent for quite a while and you didn’t know if he hated it or loved it.

“It’s a keychain.”

“Yeah.. It’s not much but I made it in a resin art workshop I went to, you have everything already and I hadn’t any idea what I could afford that you’d need-“

“You made this?” He interrupts, looking up at you.

You feel your gut shrivel. Jesus Christ. He hates it.

Immediately you move toward him to remove your offending gift. You were a Tiny Bit Hurt, but what had you been expecting with a cheap thing like that?

“If you don’t like it, it’s okay. You don’t have to use it! I just thought because you call me your little wildflower you’d like - “

You can’t finish your sentence because your face is smushed into Namjoon’s (very nice, very broad) chest as he pulls you into a crushing hug.

Horror takes over slightly and you struggle to move away. “Namjoon, I’m wearing so much foundation, and you’re in a cream Givenchy sweater - “

“I love it.”

You stop struggling. His warm breath tickles your ear, one large hand cradling the back of your head.

“You do?”

“I do. I love that you put in all this effort. You are my little wildflower. Always blooming in surprising places.’

You hug him back, nuzzling into his scent. The Givenchy sweater could wait. There was always drycleaning.

“And now I’ll have something to remind me of you wherever I go.”

When he pulls back to look at you he’s sporting not just one of those polite half smiles, but a full on beaming grin that make his eyes into smiling crescents. You get to see how deep his dimples actually are.

You swooned so hard you thought you might’ve given yourself an aneurysm.

-

Well, fast forward a year and here you are.

Watching the owner of a global business conglomerate make you some silly whipped coffee drink in the kitchen of your tiny apartment with water stains on the wallpaper, his diamond cufflinks sitting in a repurposed butter spread tray that held coins and keys on your countertop.

Watching your klutz boyfriends, ad he jerks the whisk at an odd angle and gets foamy coffee splattered all over the front of his white shirt.

'Joon, that’s Dior.” Your face crumples. Grabbing a towel out of the drawer, you wet it and try to dab the coffee stains off. That shirt was so expensive, it could pay your rent for three months.

You knew and had come to terms with the fact that money would always worry him far, far less than it worried you, but seeing such an expensive item go to waste would never stop making you a little bit unhappy. Well, there was more to it, but you shoved those thoughts away.

Namjoon sets the bowl down on the counter.

“It’s okay, love. I’ll just get a new one if the stains don't come off.”

You scrub harder.

After a silent moment, Namjoon puts his hands over yours to still them. “It’s not just about the shirt, is it?”

He waits for you, like he always does because he knows you need a little time. He’d wormed his way into the deepest parts of your heart, but there would always be a final little fence you had to decide to take down. He was okay with that.

After a minute, you nod. Gently, he takes the dishcloth from you and sets it aside so he can hold your hands properly. Times like these he just wants to hug you and hope that would be enough to protect you from the world. You taught him that money, as much as it solved problems, was not everything.

He puts a finger under your chin and tips it up so he can see your face.

“I just..”

“Go on.” He encourages.

“I know we’ve been through this before, but I can’t help but feel like I’m a… I’m a burden.”

Funny, considering how you two started out. The sugar baby/parent lifestyle just wasn’t for you. You were a Bad Ass Bitch who didn't need anyone, and it was important to stay on brand.

“Like, I keep being on the receiving end and sometimes I just feel like I can’t do anything for you. You spend so much money on me. The other day after we went shopping you bought me such lovely fruits to stock my fridge, and even got me a new heater for my room when it’s cold, and now you’re making me coffee because I sent you that post on Instagram and I just….

“If you didn’t have to come to my stupid old apartment you shirt would still be clean and I …“ You gesture vaguely at him and then at yourself.

“You give me so much. And well, I’m… just me.” You say finally.

Namjoon’s just been listening as you ramble, face unreadable. He;s got his business face on and you can’t tell if he’s angry with you or not.

“So you feel like you can’t do anything for me.”

You nod.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding the topic every time I ask you to move in with me?”

You nod again.

“Look, _____. I want you to listen to me. Like really listen.” His hands move to cup your face, eyes now staring intently into yours.

“You give me something in this world no amount of money can buy. You make me feel whole. You make me feel excited that I get to do life’s most mundane things with you. Even if it involves drinking dishwater coffee.”

That last part gets a small smile out of you, so he knows you’re in the clear.

“I know you’re not used to receiving nice things, because the world hasn’t given you much of it. I hate that. What I do for you, I do with my whole heart. I will continue to want to do these things for you for as long as you’ll let me.

“And maybe if I keep doing them one day you will see how everything, everything I do for you pales terribly in comparison to what you give to me by just existing.”

You’re so overwhelmed with emotion so you just respond lamely “o..okay.”

In your head, your two braincells clap enthusiastically as they crown you honorary president of the Idiot Club.

Namjoon sighs and rests his hands on the countertop on either side of you so he can look at you eye to eye. You look so pretty like this, he thinks. Eyes vulnerable and lips soft, just like you should be. He hates the world for treating you so cruelly.

“And for the record, I insist on spending time here I noticed you’re more… yourself than at my place. I want you to feel comfortable.”

“That’s not true.” You raise your chin petulantly, because you’re slightly prideful that way and don't want to acknowledge that Namjoon sees through you clear as day.

“Don’t argue with me.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes fractionally, his gaze darkening, and suddenly you’re very aware that you’re caged in. Not that you were complaining but was it suddenly really hot in here?

“I’m not arguing.”

“Yes you are." He's lowered his voice and its taken on a huskier tone. 

“You know that everything I do, I do out of love for you. And I will damn well put up with your apartment with no complaints if it means you will feel more at ease.”

This man was going to give you whiplash with the way he made the most loving words sound like filth.

You lower your gaze, just the way you know he likes, and look up at him through your lashes. Two could play that game. You see a spark ignite in his eyes.

“I know.”

“You know, what?”

“I know, sir.”

“Good. Now why don’t I finish making you that coffee, and then we can go back to my place and we’ll see what you really know.”

With that, he releases you to get the milk from the fridge, and you spin around to place one hand on the countertop and one hand over your chest. You suck in a breath you didn’t know you were holding. A few seconds longer and you’d have -

A sharp cracking noise from behind you quickly sweeps any indecent thoughts clean out of your mind.

You turn to find Namjoon looking at you with an incredibly apologetic expression, holding a black piece of plastic which what seems to be -

“Did you break the handle off my fridge?”

-

Three days later he’s sporting the same apologetic expression, the only difference is that you two are separated by a towering, stainless steel monstrosity that now sits in the middle of your living room, leaving you two to converse by having to look around the sides of it.

“I’m sorry, ___. I didn’t know it’d be this big.”

“That’s what she said.”

You peer around the corner with a cheeky grin. He gives you a look that’s half withering and half amused. “Mature.”

Reassessing the appliance in front of you, you throw your hands up in the air.

“For the love of sweet god, Namjoon. This fridge is ridiculous. I’m not feeding the entire village. You’ve seen my apartment, how did you think this was going to work?!”

“I dont know, okay? I just called my home decor guys and told them to send you the same fridge I have!”

You sigh heavily and shut your eyes. The man was so intelligent, but days like this you wonder if sometimes his brain took unpaid leave.

“My house is literally a third the size of your closet.”

If this wasn’t your house you might have found it a little bit funny. But it is your house.

You wait, but there’s just silence from his end, so you continue.

“What do you expect me to do with this monstrosity? Take a fucking winter holiday in it?! We can’t even -“ you kick the sofa for emphasis.

Pausing because he’s still unusually quiet, you stretch to look around the fridge again. He’s on his phone, tapping away in furious concentration.

“What are you doing?”

“Give me a minute.”

Oh no.

“What are you doing.”

“Relax, my love, I’m fixing the problem.” He waves you off nonchalantly. “Give me a minute.”

“Are you calling the delivery men to take this back?”

There is a genuinely confused look on his face when he looks up.

“What? No. Don’t be silly. I’m texting my real estate agents. They’re getting you a new house so this fridge will fit.”

[nomnomsik]

I love the reactions you have done so far. I wish I could write as good as you lol. Can i request a reaction? Yandere JK finds out that you have been taking a few dollars here and there from his wallet to fund your escape? :O

A/N: I struggled at the end. I’m sorry, baby~

Trigger warning: abusive-relationship, yandere-themes, manipulation, kidnapping. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics. 

“I’ll see you later, y/n.” Jungkook’s authoritative voice echoed from his position at the front of the door.

“Okay, bye bye.” You called from the office where you spent most of your time in. As you heard the click of the door, you lifted yourself off your seat. You waltzed over to the window, watching as Jungkook disappeared inside his Mercedez. With a harsh rev of the engine, Jungkook backed out of the estate and sped off.

As you opened the door, you crept out of the office room, going up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. Initially, you sighed as you saw how Jungkook had messed up the blankets again. But you turned your head, looking at the white cabinets of the nightstand. You swiftly pulled it open, turning behind you to make sure nobody was there and returning back to the enclosed box.

It contained many of the several thousands of dollars that Jungkook had entrusted in the house. There were stacks of a hundred dollar bills that nobody would have known you had taken a few. You organized the bills to make sure all the levels in the stack were equal. You took a deep breath, feeling your heart thump in your chest. As you stuffed the money into the insides of your pants, you rushed to put the box back into the cabinet. You scanned over the contents, making sure everything was back into their original place.

Your hand pushed in the cabinet door back in as you turned around. You let out a gasp as right in front of you stood a maid. Her eyes were wide as she had just witnessed what you have done. Before she could sprint away, you grabbed onto her, shaking her petite figure.

“Please, please, don’t say a thing. You want me to escape right? Why would you want my life to be any worse than it already is? Please, just…!” You blurted out all continuously, afraid that she would not have your best interests in mind.

“Ms. y/n, you know I can’t do that…” She whispered, looking straight into your eyes. “In fact, I can assure you Mr. Jeon already knows by now. He’s not a dumb man.” Her eyes held enough confidence to know that she was not lying. She too, must have been here for a very long time. You had tried to tell yourself that there was no way he would have known. After all, you went to great lengths to make sure you left no traces.

“I wish I could help you, but… He also has my family hanging over my head. I’m sorry. I’m doing this selfishly for myself, but can you truly blame me? We are both victims looking out for ourselves. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

You felt your grip loosen as you let her go. She hurried down the stairs and into the basement away from you.

What was the point of all this? She had told you Jungkook knew by now. Why didn’t he do anything about it? Did he like this? He just loved getting your hopes up and waiting for him to crash it down. As you built the dominos, Jungkook just had to get in between, kicking it all down and watching it crumble.

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Jungkook sat in his office staring at the beautiful city of New York. It seemed from his spot in the city as if he was the centerpiece. Truly, everything must have revolved around him. He gave a confident smirk, spinning his chair around back to his desk and up at his double monitors. Before he could reach his mouse, a loud rang came out of his phone. He eagerly grabbed it, hoping you had given him a call. There was always something about you calling him one day that got him giddy.

His mood quickly changed as he saw a name that wasn’t yours. He sighed, accepting it and bringing it up to his face.

“What do you want.”

“Sir, we just wanted to inform you that we found Ms. y/n going through your nightstand cabinet.”

“I already knew that. Don’t bother me again.” He snapped, quickly ending the call and throwing his phone onto his wooden desk.

“She’s such a troublemaker.”

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

“Ms. y/n, we were just notified by Jungkook by text that he’s on his way. He wants you in the bedroom.”

The guard who stood at the entrance of the Jeon estate had instructed you the orders he had given. The maids had escorted you up, touching up your appearance and doing your hair. You sat on your knees on the neatly made bed, awaiting your doom.

From your spot, you heard his car pull up and the harsh slam of the door as he quickly walked up the stairs. The two men bowed to him as he passed, slipping off his shoes and marching upstairs. As he opened the door, he gave you a bright smile.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” He tsked, slipping off his tie and throwing it off to the ground. “You’re such a bad girl, you know that? Causing so much trouble when I’m not here.” He saw how you visibly tensed as he brought his lips down to yours. Bringing his hand up to your jaw, he harshly gripped it.

“It’s cute that you think you can just leave me. But I think your little games have to stop now, darling.” He sneered, releasing his hold on you. You flinched, feeling the corner of your eyes tear up as your hair fell in front of your face. He caressed your cheeks, pushing you down until you fell flat on the comforter.

“Since you’re dressed so nicely for me, I’ll just show you how much of a wonderful fiance I am.”

You glared up at him, tears rolling down your cheeks as you wished the death of Jeon Jungkook.

[purplesurveys]

773

What’s the name of a song you’ve listened to a lot recently? Prepare for another Hayley answer folks. I’ve been listening to nothing but Petals For Armor this whole week – even lo-fi got a break :o – and Dead Horse is very easily my favorite track so that’s been racking up plays.

Are you texting anyone at this moment? No. I currently have a conversation with Gab on Messenger but replies on both ends are choppy because we’re doing our own thing.

Recently, who in your house has gotten on your nerves the most? It’d be a surprise if someone still doesn’t know the answer to this, but it’s my mom. We just have very different personalities and traits, and that is mostly because I have made it my life’s mission to not end up like her.

Think of the most recent time that you went out to eat with someone, who ended up paying? We split the bill, as we always do. That last time was in my favorite ramen place I now realize :( I miss the outside worldddddd.

Is there anything that’s been weighing on your mind as far as a decision your contemplating whether to act on or not? Explain. Everyday it’s always a mental battle whether I’m touching my thesis or not for that day. It’s such a big deal for me and there’s so much pressure to produce an excellent one that I’m always too scared to look at it, even if it is MY work.

What all has pissed you off today, if anything at all? My mom was making unbelievable statements about ABSCBN (the major network that the government pettily hates and demanded to shut down) and how they deserve the ordeal they’ve been going through...fucking unbelievable. I wasn’t going to let her slide so I offered up my arguments, but I felt her cowering and my suspicions were confirmed when she changed the topic. 

How often do you talk to the person you currently have feelings for? Well I’m already with her, so we talk pretty often throughout the day. It’ll decrease if we’re both super busy, but when it’s one of those days we make sure we at least talk when we wake up and before we go to bed.

When was the last time you couldn’t stop laughing? A Tiktok Angela shared with me. Holy shit it was so funny - it was of a girl going through Twilight and reading every single time Stephenie Meyer used the word ‘chuckled’ with a hilarious voice filter.

Out of all of your friends who have you gotten in the worst fight with? Explain what happened. I super hate having conflicts with people I’m close to, so I honestly can’t tell you an argument I’ve had with a friend even if I try racking my brain for one.

If you had $100 dollars, how would you spend it? I’d rather save it till I’ll have to go job-hunting. I’ll spend the money on gas to go to job interviews.

What’s something you would love to have happen right now? I just want the reassurance that I’ll end up in a good job eventually. This whole period waiting for graduation with nothing happening isn’t good for me, and with the lockdown still in place I’ll have to also wait till I can start legit applying for jobs, so these days I’m essentially just living with double the amount of anxiety I’d normally have.

You were given the opportunity to get a new cellular device, what do you choose? iPhone 11 Pro Max.

Which of your classes in school is most capable of killing a good mood for you? Business reporting. Before the quarantine, that class absolutely ruined my Fridays which used to be my favorite day of the week. I had a great teacher who opened every avenue possible to help us because it was objectively a difficult class, but that’s all I saw it as – difficult. All my other classes were okay.

How nice of a person are you, honestly? I’m super nice and am always that way with everyone. Though if I encounter someone with a behavior that I don’t like, like being a lousy co-worker or if they support the government lolol, I’ll be less nice but like still not an asshole. It’s a waste of time being a shitty person to other people.

What good things have happened today? My dad bought Pringles yesterday so I got to have them today and holy shit, they are so so good. It also wasn’t that hot today - weather was still awful of course, but at least I didn’t sweat through my shirt or have to breathe heavily, which is good enough for me.

Can you honestly say that at this point and time you’re happy with the way things are going in your life? Not yet, but I’ll get there.

Is there anyone of your preferred sex who tends to mess with your head? I don’t have a preferred sex.

What have you recently gotten the most compliments on? Honestly nothing. I haven’t been on social media lately because the country is shit and citizens are always saying stupid shit, so I haven’t talked to that many people lately.

When you get to go shopping for new clothes, where do you go to find your clothes? Feliz.

How do you feel about inter-racial couples? You do you. I don’t see anything wrong with it and besides, Filipinos marrying foreigners has always been a common sight.

Have you ever thought you were in love, and then realized later on that your feelings weren’t as strong as you had thought? No.

When will be the next time you travel out of state, where will you be going? I have no clue. All travel plans have been put on hold for a while, so I’ll have to wait until that eases out.

If I were to see you face to face, who would you more than likely be with? My dog.

What is one assumption people make of you, by just seeing you? That I’m grumpy. It’s not inaccurate at all, I definitely have a bit of a short fuse.

When deciding the significance of someone in your life, what is an important deciding factor? How much I can trust them, if we’ve had memorable times together, and if they have the ability to make me feel better when I’m down.

What is something that you have come to realize doesn’t work for you? Trying to have a rational disagreement with my mom. She will always handle conflict immaturely. I will always wonder why she has lasted this long without anyone calling her out on such a poor behavior.

Have you ever grown apart from someone, and then over time you came back into each others lives? Yeah dude, Gabie. I lost her for a while after our first breakup, which was technically two losses for me because she’s also my best friend. We grew apart for around four months but after that we reconnected, patched things up, and realized being friends wasn’t gonna cut it so we ended up dating again haha.

On a scale of 1 to 10 how shy are you? 12 for people I’m not close to, maybe a 6 for those I know well already.

Chose one quality of yours that has caused you problems, explain one situation where the quality was apparent. Mmm when I’m anxious or not having a good day overall, I tend to ignore everyone. I will open messages but not reply to anyone of them, and on the worst days I won’t reply even to the work-related messages. And if anyone asks me if I’m ok or not, it’s going to be seenzoned; if anyone sends me a meme, it’s going to be seenzoned, you get the idea.

I was having a rough time the other day when JM asked me to take over a task for the org, and while I had every intention of doing it, I a) didn’t reply to him, and b) didn’t feel like doing the task until after dinner. When I opened my laptop to get on the job, I already got a message from JM apologizing and saying he had to overstep and do the work himself because he didn’t get a reply from me and because I haven’t done the task yet. I can honestly that’s never happened before and as a perfectionist I was super disappointed in myself and I must’ve apologized to him a thousand times.

Is there something you should be doing right now, besides this survey? Taking a shower.

When was the last time you turned down making plans with someone, why did you? I think it was just that party with Rita’s sister’s DJ friend. I don’t normally turn down plans because I’m always game for anything lol.

Who did you last confide in, what did it involve? I was telling Gabie how much I hate the Mother’s Day posts from everyone on Facebook. I didn’t use Facebook last Sunday precisely because I wanted to avoid seeing any of them, but when I loaded my feed now they were still all over my timeline. I had had enough of waiting for them to go away, so I vented to her.

[prorevenge]

Destroy my childhood, ruin my chance at college, and laugh when I said I was homeless? Lol cool, I'll ruin your life.

Long story. TL;DR at the end.

BACKSTORY: My mother was a really shitty person. I have 4 other siblings. One older sister, 3 way younger, 3 different dads. Before I was born (im a male btw), my oldest sister was taken away from my mother when she was a few months old because she tried to stab/slice the father of my sister WHILE HE WAS HOLDING HER. She lost custody and the dude left her. Older sister goes to live with her fathers family in a different city. CUE LIL OL ME COMING INTO THIS SEXY WORLD. My dad went to jail 2-3 years after I was born for a while, I rarely saw him. He's an alcoholic if that matters. She was a single mother but she made it work and she worked hard. One of the bigger problems was that she took out all her agression and hatred of my father on me as well as work stress and etc. She dealt with sexual abuse growing up which I'm sure definitely affected her relationships and how she treated me as well. Anyways...

Cue me being abused from the age of 4-5 to about 17. Every day was hell. She was extremely strict and her perspective was warped. She was also pretty big in stature and had alot of strength. Examples of her being shitty: I've gotten beaten up badly once because HER room was dirty. The dishes weren't washed and I got beaten soon as I got home, even if there werent dishes when I left to school. If i walked too loud, id get my ass beat. She broke my nose for looking at her the wrong way on my 10th birthday when she brought me a cake I was allergic too(It had peanuts, she knows im slightly allergic but feigned ignorance..) It was more or less every day or every other day. She used her fists/elbows/extension cords/hangers/chairs/canes/bats/etc. Whatever she could find I was getting beaten with. I couldn't ever escape to my room for long because she would always call me every few minutes to get her things or to yell at me. She never drank or did drugs or anything. Whenever she was upset and I happened to be in front of her she'd kick me down the stairs to make me hurry up. She's put a knife to my neck before and had to be forcibly stopped by her bf of the time. Burned my christmas presents from other people (she didnt get me anything that year) and just other really shitty things. The only thing I will say, she tried really hard to make up for it with video games and electronics and etc. It didn't make a difference to me though, it never helped.

She controlled most aspects of my life. I got by with little petty revenges. Peeing in the lipton iced tea she drank. Rubbing her forks and spoons between ny buttcheeks before i served her dinner. Ignoring her screams for help when she had kidney stones (how tf am i supposed to help anyways??) But by the time i got to highschool I turned to alcohol. I resented her and the negative atmosphere affected who I was as a person. I started to be cold and uncaring. Calculated. She started kicking me out every few months telling me to find somewhere else to live by age 15. She sent me away to a different country for a year and tried to keep my passport but I made it back to the US with the help of the embassy and my step father (she'd already left by that time and found some other dude). I came back senior year with no credits for the prior grade which ended with me getting a GED. I spent most of the time i could with my best friend and started working shitty jobs. I was terrible at saving as i had accumulated loads of shitty habits while growing up so it didnt make much difference. She eventually told me that If i went to college, I would ALWAYS have a place to live until I finished. Cue my first 2 semesters at a 2 year college, I maintained a 3.7ish gpa. My teachers loved me and it was my escape. Towards the end of my 2nd semester during finals, i came home late one night around 10pm and my mother yanks the door open screaming in my face asking when I'll move out. I'm slightly drunk and decide to completely ignore her and walk to my room. If I opened my mouth, that day would be the day I blew up and cursed her out. I've rarely ever raised my voice at her because it never ended well. Now at this point im 19 and I've been doing school full time with no savings. Im also fairly fit and could easily take my mom at this point (Never laid a hand on her or any woman, i hate violence). I get to my room, she rips my door open, and starts yelling. I say nothing and stare at her. She walks away and called the police on me saying she thought id murder her and my younger siblings. I don't know where the fuck she got that idea from as she's the one who's nearly killed me many times.

I packed everything into a duffle bag and left 5 minutes afterwards. I failed all of my finals because I couldnt make it to my school. Things kinda spiraled and the next 2-3 years were me on and off homeless. I survived the best I could in a big city with no college degree and made alot of shitty choices due to my shitty habits. Eventually i found a profitable hobby that gave me meaning and through that i started to work my way up. Got my own apartment, had a full time job, and did my hobby on the side. I hadn't kept up contact with my mother at all but my younger sister who was old enough to have a phone found me on social media so i saw photos and such, she didn't have it anywhere near as bad but she did get beaten occasionally. My mother reached out via email all smiles asking how I've been. Now guys, ive always been envious of the relationship most ppl have with their moms so I gave her a chance and gave her a call. We talked for a few minutes and everything was civil and seemed like things would go okay but then...

She asked me what I've been up to the last few years and I told her honestly, that I was homeless for a while and struggled alot after what she did to me but I worked my way out of it. SHE LITERALLY LAUGHS. She laughed for a few seconds in a very condescending kinda chuckle and then said "I never did a thing to you so you don't know what abuse is! its your own damn fault you were homeless. So how about yo-" but by that point I hung up. I was speechless and fuming. I don't know what abuse is? OKAY BITCH. IVE SPENT TOO FUCKING LONG LETTING YOU DESTROY MY SANITY. NOW IS THE TIME.

There was a few things my mother didn't know. One, I knew for a fact that current well paying job she had was gotten on lies as she never got her college degree and lied about it on her resume. Two, I had access to all of her email accounts and cloud storage accounts since I was the one that set them up when I was younger and she never changes her passwords. Lastly, she DEFINITELY wasn't aware that from 13yrs old and onto the last time she hit me I took photos of ALL my bruises/marks/wounds/bloody noses saving them to my computer and then google drive. ON TOP OF THAT, my little sister had been sending me photos via social media of the bruises she got from my mom.

The first thing I did was compile ALL of those photos/videos into one folder. I then reached out to CPS in my city and explained that my siblings were being abused, how I was abused in the past, and that I had mountains of proof. Since ive called the cops on my mother before AND the thing that happened with my older sister, there was immediately a home visit. They arrived almost a day later with the police and coincidentally my mother was literally in the process of beating my younger sister when they were knocking. Cue an Emergency removal of all my siblings from the house and my mother getting arrested though she was released hours later. (I was getting a day to day play by play because my mothers best friend is a blabber mouth and everything my mother said she told her son who relayed it to me without either of their knowledge.) I sent CPS all the evidence and there's a legit case against my mother now. The next day I emailed and then called up her job to inform them that she had lied about having a very necessary college degree as well current events in her life which sparked a background check. She was fired days later. Say adios to 75k and a blacklist in the only industry you know how to work. I then spitefully deleted every cloud account and email address I ever made for her, which was all of them which im sure will make keeping up with alot bills and etc nearly impossible. I then anonymously reported her to the IRS because of the tax fraud she committed for years by claiming people's children that weren't hers with ALOT of detailed information since I lived with her while she did it.

So now, my mother lost all her kids and her job. Im meeting with a caseworker from CPS next week to talk more about what happens moving forward but I do know they're NOT going back. Idk how she's gonna pay her mortgage now and survive. I'm sure she's gonna get a call from the IRS who'll be looking for a few thousand dollars she owes them. She also has to go back to court in a few months, not exactly sure what she was charged with but ill update when I find out how everything turns out.

Side Note: She isn't aware im the cause of any of this. I plan on keeping tabs on her and waiting until it seems like she's close to death before I tell her it was all me and I peed in her lipton.

TL;DR - My mother abuses me badly for most of my life as well as my younger siblings. I have to drop out of college and support myself after she drove me to homelessness. She proceeds to laugh at me about me being homeless and denys abuse. So I ruined her life by getting my younger siblings removed and her arrested, making her lose her job, reported her to the IRS, and essentially set her up so that the remainder of her life is full of disaster and hardships.

(source) (story by howbout_that_lipton)

[wandaluvstacos]

To follow up on that thing I reblogged... there’s a difference between a horse a rich person buys for their daughter and a horse that farm kids get.

Here is a horse I bought (yes, I bought) at auction at age 15 for $300.

This was him a few years later:

I did not grow up poor, I’ll admit. I grew up middle class. My dad was a professor and my mom stayed at home. We lived on a pretty big acreage in western PA, where you can buy housing for really cheap because there’s no money in western PA (outside of the Mellons, I guess). Because we had acreage, we were able to make our own hay. So I tended to have 4-8 horses during my childhood, almost all of them bought for under $1k. They ate nothing but grass in the summer and crappy hay in the winter. We only vetted the ones who left the property, so vet bills were pretty low. Tack was purchased used, or we bought cheap shit made in India. Honestly, we did it about as cheap as you can do it.

Currently I have two horses that live at my mom’s place, so I don’t pay board. I do pay for hay, so that’s an expense. I also had to buy a trailer, which was $2k. And I have their feet trimmed for $70 every seven weeks. And the vet comes out once a year to do shots, which is about $200. So no, it’s not something you do if you’re really poor. But I make a middle class wage. I’m definitely not rich.

If you own some property, say more than 5 acres (which many rural people do), and you have a serviceable barn, you can own horses for pretty cheap. They won’t be as cheap as a dog or cat, but a single person making $50k a year with 5 acres can definitely afford at least one horse. It’s attainable for the middle class if you want it enough.

This is the sort of horse-owning experience a rural person generally has, which is spending maybe $1-$2k a year. This is NOT the horse owning experience of someone like Georgina Bloomberg, whose horses are worth six figures and live in a barn like this:

Rich horse girls are the ones whose parents give them a $60k imported Warmblood hunter horse that any idiot can ride, because generally rich horse girls can’t ride, or they can ride because they get thousands of dollars worth of lessons from the world’s top trainers. They ride horses other top trainers have trained. They may not even be interested in horses but do it because all their rich friends do. 

Anyway, there are definitely rich people who do horses, because I knew a lot growing up. I was part of the local Pony Club, and I did a few foxhunts with the Mellons. But I’ve also been to a lot of horse auctions, and I can assure you, there are a lot of poor and rural people who purchase and work with horses. Honestly, it’s a very strange dissonance, to go to the Devon horse show one weekend

and go to the New Holland auction the next.

Glamorous, right? Definitely lots of rich people in those stands, lol.

in summary, owning a horse isn’t cheap, but there are people who spend $1k a year on it and people who spend millions a year on it, and it’s a wide gulf in between those two worlds.

[kiradillinger]

Lapidot human videoblogers AU PART 2

You wanted part 2 and I wanted a reason to make a part two. Thanks a lot for your comments, I really hope you’ll like this part too.

THE FIRST PART IS HERE

Peridot's channel is called "The Peridactyl". Amethyst created this nickname when they were in school. Amethyst has always supported Peridot's desire be a pro gamer. No one else did this, and when Peridot had a fight with her parents because of her hobbies, Amethyst invited her to move to a new apartment that Greg had bought. There was a spare room, and Peridot agreed.

Peridot gets along well with Pearl and Garnet. They can't be called best friends, but they accepts each other's hobbies, and don't argue without strong reasons. Peridot tries to spend the money she earns on something new for the apartment, food for everyone or their electricity bills: to thank them for the help, without which she would not have been able to do what she loves.

Lapis has a similar situation: her family was against her passion for art. But Lapis didn't have good friends to help her, and she understood that sooner or later she would have to live without support, so she began to save money as a teenager, and left as soon as she turned 18. She communicates with her parents by phone and sends them postcards from different countries, but she can’t find the strength and courage to come and see them.

Lapis returns to Peridot not to stay with her forever, but to discuss everything normally and to spend her vacation. To relax, finally feeling that she wants to return to someone, and knowing that someone is waiting for her. Peridot takes a few "days off" on the channel and tells subscribers that Lapis needs some support now. Of course, some subscribers are unhappy that Peridot chose someone instead of making content, and Peridot answers simply - she bans them.

Despite the fact that all Gems (this is a name of their team in League of Legends* xD) and Steven accept Lapis in their home, she is still very uncomfortable among so many people, and she asks Peridot if they can rent an apartment for a few days to have some private time. Peridot agrees, and they spend a week alone, watching TV shows, trying to cook, making some art and just having a nice time cuddling and snuggling. Lapis is happy that she agreed to try, but at the same time they have not yet discussed what will happen when this week ends.

Peridot's plan sounds easy: Lapis can travel as much as she wants, Peridot will wait for her to return. "You don’t need to return to an empty apartment. Everyone here will be glad to your return, and if you want peace, we can always rent an apartment for a while."

Lapis likes the apartment they rented, and she proposes to make this place their “temporary shelter” until they save money for a home near the lake. The owner of the apartment (a sweet tall girl with rainbow hair) allowes to decorate the apartment as they want, if they don't break furniture and make a real mess.

Those 2 thousand dollars, which they were donated by someone for a kiss, they spend on paying for apartment for several months in advance. Both understand that now they will have to earn even more in order to pay further for this apartment. So, they will have to make even more videos, improve the quality of them, and stream more often. But Lapis is already too excited to retreat.

Steven, almost in tears asks Peridot if she leaves forever, and Peridot laughs and replies that he may not be worried. When Lapis is in another country, she will still live with Gems.

Together with Lapis, they make up a schedule of her trips, so Lapis has time to stay at home for at least two or three weeks. The schedule is necessary so that they understand when Peridot needs to take a break from the channel, when she should slowly transfer important things to their new home. Peridot warns that the breaks between videos can be only for a week, and that she will still need to return to record the video. Lapis is not against it at all, because spending time in Gems' houses is also fun.

A week later, Lapis leaves, promising to send all the things from her apartment before she leaves somewhere again. By the time Lapis leaves for another trip, her apartment is completely empty. She sends things, and separately from things sends the found sketchbook in which Peridot finds drawings from her travels, as well as drawings of herself. Lapis explains that she likes to sketch Peridot during her streams - this is a good practice of drawing emotions. Peridot is confused, but very pleased.

While Lapis is in another country, she usually makes many stories in her insta. There, her fans noticed that she began to smile more and looks happier, and they began to ask "is there really something between her and Peridot." Lapis is mysteriously silent, but on the day of departure she makes another story with a photo of her bag and the sign "coming back to my fave nerd <33".

Peridot meets her at the airport and Lapis feels butterflies in the stomach. No one has ever met her like this, and they embrace for a long time in the arrival hall. Peridot tidied up their apartment (Steven helped), and Lapis feels that she is finally home.

The next day, Peridot asks Lapis to stream for a while, to tell something about her journey, and about plans for the channel. Donates are open to those who want to ask any questions, and someone donate a couple of bucks with the question "how much I need to donate, to make you kiss each other?". Peridot laughs and replies: "Nothing. Now I will do it for free."

Fans almost broke the YouTube chat

* - I’m a LoL trash sorry xDD

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 18 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: Lots of little details for this part--which was a joy to write, by the way. I cried a little over some of the bits towards the end--to write something I love so much is truly moving again and again. I listened to Hozier’s INCREDIBLE new album, Wasteland, Baby! a lot for this part, a HARDCORE #Duckenzie album (Movement, As It Was, Sunlight, wowwwwowowowwww).The hook/lingerie stuff got pushed to 19, because I want it to be from Duncan’s POV/wanted us to see Kenzie in the lingerie through his eyes (for...obvious reasons), and also because when they get home (now at the beginning of 19 rather than the end of 18 as I originally planned) they’re gonna be too sleepy to have a long fuck since they’ve been at the beach all day/I needed something fun for their Monday night. So, that is coming soon. I wanted this part to be joyful and really fun and very romantic, and I think I succeeded with that. Kenzie thinking of her Momby playing John Denver during car rides is my nod to my own mother doing that very thing when I was growing up. A very special thank you to Diah (@impiorumrequies) who helped me with all of Pilar’s Spanish phrases (both she and Pat are my characters, not AUs). The picture Duncan takes of Kenzie in the house is based on the one @ghostwithangeleyes used for this Millory Honeymoon edit (I was actually the anon who requested that one, and I love it SO MUCH--it was a huge inspiration for this part too)--the original is a pic Billie posted on her Instagram here (I realized when I saw her bikini closer it had colored dots, not black ones, but whatever, I wanted Kenzie to have a black-and-white polka dot bikini, so I left it that way in the story). Both of the photos Kenzie takes of Duncan are based on actual photos of Cody: the second one here, and this one from his Instagram from when he was in Costa Rica at the beginning of this year (@hi-ilovedamien I may or may not be hoping you’ll make some Duckenzie Insta edits with them lol xoxo). Here are Kenzie’s cheapie sunglasses (I ordered them for myself lol). Here’s her wrap dress. Here’s her beach hat. Here are her sandals. Here’s her beach bag. Here are Duncan’s sunglasses in this part. Here are his Armani sandals. Here are his swim trunks. Here’s the buckling beach blanket--I want it so bad now, I might have to buy it this summer. Here is Duncan’s $200 Crate and Barrel picnic basket, which I also want really fucking badly now...but it’s $200 fucking dollars. Here’s their beach towels. Duncan’s jet is a Falcon 900LX, the same kind the Koch brothers have--since Beau Willimon based the Shepherds on the Kochs, I thought it made sense to give Duncan the same kind of private plane (Annette and Bill have their own planes, the Falcon is Duncan’s personal plane). The Shepherd Cape Cod house is something like this, though not quite--the Shepherds’ beach house is white and surrounded by a gate, and the interior is a little bit larger, the couch is longer, etc. I had to feature Hozier’s DINNER & DIATRIBES (also from Wasteland, Baby!) at the end of this part--a nod to @deanfinite including it on her BODY & SOUL playlist (thanks again for making that, darling--wow, what an honor!), and a song I will forever associate with Duckenzie now. As ever, those of you who are following along and showering me and Duckenzie with so much affection--I love you all.

Kenzie had been beyond surprise when she saw Tyler approaching her and Claire at their barstools, from the far corner of Jack Rose--the day had already been so surreal (this week has been the most surreal of my life and it’s felt like a year and like the blink of an eye at the same time), and her argument with Annette (Annette’s eyes flashing, Kenzie falling down into their dark well, blood chilling in her veins) was still humming in her nerves, making her jittery. Some days are diamonds, she thought of that old song by John Denver, Momby used to play it during car rides, some days are stone. I think today is both and diamond and a stone, and my whole life now seems to be days that are roller coasters of emotions. How can I be so happy and so upset and so confused all in one day? And so, so, so happy.

Tyler had looked good; he had looked clear-eyed and happy and she could tell that when his eyes fell over her, they held nothing but affection, and if anything, that was the worst part. I wish you hated me just a little, Kenzie thought as he leaned beside her chair, his shirt unbuttoned just-so. Because I know I broke your heart, even if you never said it. When she saw Duncan coming, Kenzie’s heart had lept into her throat--god, this probably looks bad, she thought, and she could feel the wave of jealousy coming off him as though it were literal heat, as though someone had turned a blast of hot air onto her skin, fluttering at her cheeks. His blue eyes had looked at her with smoldering attention, and Kenzie knew again, knew utterly, that Duncan was wildly, deeply, and utterly in love with her. It dipped its fingers, his love, down into the center of her, scooping her heart out and pressing it into his lips. And she hadn’t, not for a moment, wanted him to feel hurt. If only I could shield him from ever being hurt again, she thought, if only I could spare him pain, for I love him, and his pain is mine, and I can feel it in his gaze, and I know he doesn’t want to feel it, I know he feels guilty over his own pain, but I know he feels it just the same, looking at the man I used to love.

Later, in the BMW, she’d felt the raw rush of his pain again, her hands in his hair, his stubble, when he’d murmured “he still loves you” into her mouth and she heard the ache in him, the echo of his own words said so many times already behind it (I love you, Kenzie) and she’d wanted nothing more than to hush it away--Kenzie hoped with all her being that Duncan knew, in that moment, that he was the only one for her. I only love you. It frightens me too, she thought, but I would die for you, this I know, I’d do anything it took to be with you, I’d swallow my own pain a thousand times, because the hole you would leave, if I didn’t, would howl in me, it would rip time apart, because to be with you is my destiny, Duncan Shepherd, in this world and all the worlds to come and all the worlds that came before.

That morning she woke first--Duncan was sleeping with his head tucked down towards her, his hand under his chin, an eyelash on his cheek (she brushed it away, gently), and Kenzie wondered if this is how he’d looked sleeping as a child--every line of worry had faded from him, and his breathing was so small she’d felt a wild, tiny burst of fear until she noticed the breath from his nose stirring the small hairs on his arm. Someday, he’ll die, and so will I, and that makes every moment we are together precious beyond all words. If we’re all reincarnated endlessly, I think we are written into every lifetime, he and I. I think we will find each other every time. I think so. I don’t know how I know that. But I think I know that now. Kenzie leaned down over Duncan’s wondrously beautiful face, molded from the first clay, most divine, by the gods, waxing romantic and idealistic in their artistry, pressing her lips into the softness of his cheek. He stirred just a little, but didn’t wake yet, and she could see the delicate dip of moisture she’d left on his skin, glistening for a moment, then drying. Like an invisible tattoo. Kenzie got up carefully; me first today, she thought, and tip-toed to the walk-in closet, glancing long at her naked reflection in the huge mirror as she did (hair tangled, god, my hips are huge, my eyes look nice today though, they’re so bright lately, god, you really are in love aren’t you Kenz), struck again by its colossal beauty, heart hammering. It seemed to shimmer with a gold sheen in her eyes as she watched herself in it, throwing gold dust over her body--how odd, she thought, it must be a reflection from the frame. Some kind of trick of the light. This mirror is so strange.

Kenzie stopped as she went into the closet, heart falling down into her stomach and then catapulting back up into her throat--tears immediately pricked her eyes as they fell on all her things, organized so meticulously, across from Duncan’s perfect monochrome wardrobe.

Oh my god, he did this for me. I can see his love in this. He organized my things so carefully; by style and color. This is so beautiful. This is art. Kenzie felt as though she could see the aching sensitivity with which he’d touched her things; she felt she could go back and watch in her mind’s eye and see his face, the affection in his gaze as his fingers trailed against the softness of her clothes, lined her dresses and shirts carefully beside each other, touched her shoes with such care--her eyes fell on the heeled sandals she’d been wearing that night, a long, long week ago, the ones he’d untied, kissing her feet--oh, baby. You did this for me. You made this so beautiful and so perfect, for me. She felt a tear course down her cheek, and Kenzie hugged her arms against her naked belly, sniffing quietly so as not to wake him in the room beside her. I never thought, in all my life, I could feel so wonderful, so wildly, so completely happy. There’s so much joy in my heart when I look at this, I could dissolve into it like stardust.

She went to the drawers underneath where he’d carefully hung all the clothing from the standing rack; these drawers were organized meticulously too, oh my god, even my underwear, and she blushed. She shut the drawer, heart twinging, opening the one beside it, in search of her bathing suits--we’re going to the beach today, and not just any beach, Duncan’s private fucking beach at his Cape Cod house, fuck. She found them neatly lined alongside her bras (according to color, whites and creams blending into pink, red, gray, black), pulling out her favorite bikini, white with tiny black polka-dots, slipping the bikini bottoms over her hips, pulling the top over her little breasts, carefully tying the back with her arms crooked behind her (I bet he’ll like this little number, she thought, smiling down at it, loving its coolness on her skin). Then she rifled through the dresses he’d lined carefully above her, finding the navy beach-wrap dress with white flowers she loved so much and had worn on several vacations with Momby (one had been with Tyler, she thought, shivering a little, remembering last night and the way Duncan’s jealousy had thrilled her, made her anxious to be alone with him, to reassure him, I’m yours baby, all yours, kiss me, fuck me, touch every part of me, I’m yours, body and soul and fuck had they reassured each other, Kenzie could still feel the soreness in her ass where he’d penetrated her)--Kenzie pulled the dress down off the hanger and wrapped it around her body, pulling her tangled hair out of the back, stepping quietly out of the closet as she did. She glanced over at the bed--Duncan was still fast asleep, his closed eyes only vaguely visible over his back and the crown of his dark auburn-and-russet hair. My love, sleep a little longer, I love to see you so sweet and so quiet this way. She quietly padded out to the living room, her eyes falling on the roses on the coffee table; Kenzie dipped her face down, drinking in their rich scent, suddenly struck with sadness for the day soon to come when they would wilt; I’ll hang them upside down over our bed to dry, she thought, and then I can smell them at night and never forget how much he loves me, because their scent is his love, and so is the sight of them.

Kenzie moved on to the seldom-used dining room; she moved around the cherrywood table (in her mind’s eye Kenzie saw Duncan lay her down on it and pull her roughly onto him, between his legs, pressing needy kisses against her breasts--I can’t help it, she thought, smiling, blushing at no one, into her hand, I want him to fuck me on every surface of this place, in every corner and everywhere and always) to where a long, ornate chest rested in one corner--Kenzie opened it carefully, and her eyes fell on the telltale object she had hoped to find: a wooden picnic basket, painted white, with brown leather straps and gold embellishments. Ugh, this is lovely, she thought, pulling it out carefully and peeking inside--there where small white plates strapped to the inside of the lid, a cheese knife and a bottle opener between them, four wine glasses in sturdy compartments in each corner of the interior, a cutting board, napkins lined in blue and white, and several sets of cutlery. Kenzie wondered idly if he’d ever used it with another lover; selfishly, she hoped not. She gripped the straps of the basket and went back out to the kitchen, setting it gently on the black obsidian island. Kenzie went over to Duncan’s imposing black espresso machine, pulling two of the little copper espresso cups down from where they rested in the tray atop it, its shiny exterior winking at her in the sun streaming through the window over the sink as she pulled the portafilters out, carefully dispensing grinds into them from the grinder beside it, biting her lip, hoping the sound wouldn’t wake him; not yet. She glanced at her succulents that lined the window as the espresso machine ran two doubles into the cups silently, streamlined, sepia crema rising--there were a dozen plants in all, in their little terracotta and glass pots, each growing cheerfully, their green-and-red leaves seeming to wave at her, and she grinned. I love them there and Duncan said he loves them too. I’m so fucking happy. Who needs drugs when you’re in love like this.

Kenzie went to the fridge, pulling out the bottle of orange juice within, going to the cupboard; she noticed someone (maybe Duncan, maybe the housekeepers) had placed her cheap little glasses--most of them from Target--next to Duncan’s ornate Waterford glasses; the little one with peonies on it, the glass he’d pulled from her hand to crush her longingly against him the night he’d slept in her futon with her--was near the front. Kenzie pulled it down and poured orange juice into it; then, carefully, she gathered the three cups in her hands (the two with espresso clutched in one, a delicate balance of fingers, the orange juice in the other), and watching her footing in the long wrap dress, trod back to the bedroom. She watched Duncan’s back rise and fall, still fast asleep, as she carefully set the two cups and the glass on his night-side table--Kenzie pushed her hair over her shoulder from where it had fallen into her eyes, glancing at the silvery alarm clock (7:42) and then she climbed carefully onto the edge of the bed, her hands falling on his arm and along the back of his neck; then she pressed her face down into his neck and kissed him under his ear, her lips lingering, biting at his earlobe. The musky scent of him filled her nose, and Kenzie felt a twinge down between her legs; that smell kindled her need, brought thoughts of him devouring her into him in the watchful eyes of the mirror (that mirror) last night barreling to the front of her mind. Fucking her so good that she drifted into delirium just to think of it. Beloved, sharing all the secrets of your body with me, I never want it to end, my dearest love. Devour me again, and again, and always. Duncan stirred, turning towards her; his eyes opened, hazily, their blue fire piercing into her, snatching her breath as they always did. His arms lifted and immediately pulled her down into him, demandingly; his lips pressed into hers, his tongue probing into her mouth, and Kenzie fought to resurface from the depths into which she immediately plunged in his arms.

“Good morning, angel,” he murmured into her mouth, hands falling down the softness of the wrap dress, searching for the opening, finding it as her thigh came free; Duncan’s hand went up the incline of her calf and pressed between her legs to the smoothness of the bikini over the lips of her cunt, and Kenzie couldn’t stave off the burst of desirous laughter that erupted from her mouth as she facetiously tried to twist away--”Fuck, Duncan, baby,” she whispered into him as he continued to press his mouth into hers, “Good morning to you.” She could feel the weight of his cock pressing into her thigh under her knee; he’s always hard in the morning, always. “I made you an espresso. But I want some of your orange juice.”

Duncan pulled away from her with some reluctance, glancing over his shoulder at where she’d placed the various cups. He reached for the orange juice (she watched his eyes rove up to the mirror, as if surprised to see it in the daylight, then back down), taking a careful sip from his prostrate position (she also noticed his eyes fall down the peony print on it, affectionately), then handed it to her; as she took it, Duncan pressed his face into her neck, the sweet smell of the juice falling into her from his mouth, and sucked at the sensitive skin there. “You can have as much as you want, baby,” he whispered, and his fingers fell down to her thigh again, trailing there, greedy.

“Baby, be careful, you’re gonna make me spill this,” she giggled again, but Kenzie thought who cares, honestly, who cares, keep kissing me, baby, you’re so fucking gorgeous and I always want you to kiss me, fucking kiss me. She drank deeply from the glass as his mouth worked at her, then she turned her face back into his, letting her tongue press between his open lips, and Duncan moaned. “I’m gonna fuck you right now if you don’t stop that,” he whispered. Kenzie pulled away from him; “Is that a threat, baby?”

“It’s a fucking promise,” he said, pulling the orange juice out of her hand and pushing it back onto the nightstand, reaching back to press her, harshly, flush against him; Kenzie felt the hardness of his cock against her belly now, and she tried to steady her mind as he bit into her neck, his tongue flicking out to leave a wet little trail on her skin. “Baby, it’s almost 8, we should probably get ready soon, shouldn’t we?” Duncan groaned into her, resting his nose along the side of her face. “Ugh, yeah...I guess we should...maybe we should cancel the beach after all.”

“Aww, Dunny, no, I wanna go--” and Kenzie turned her face to nuzzle her nose into his, closing her mouth and pressing a soft little peck on his bottom lip. “I really wanna see your plane, too.”

“Aggh, okay, fine, baby,” Duncan pulled away from her reluctantly, sitting up in the sheets, rifling a hand through his sleep-tossed hair; even sleep-tossed, baby, it looks so fucking good, Kenzie thought, still in the pillow, her eyes falling over his graceful features. I wonder if I’ll ever look at you and not feel struck dumb by you, lost in your face, your eyes, your lips, you, baby, Dunny, my beloved, you. “Thanks for making me a coffee.” He reached over to the espressos, grasping both, handing one to her carefully; Kenzie sat up too, kissing him again as she pulled it from his hand. “I found your picnic basket,” she said, staring at him as she sipped at the bitterness, carefully, her other hand reaching out to trail along his arm. Duncan stared at her; Kenzie fought off the shiver she felt at his eyes. They look at me with devotion; those incredibly radiant eyes. Now I’m always caught in the gaze of a god of beauty. “It’s so lovely, I can’t wait to use it today.”

“I’d forgot about it, actually,” he smiled at her, finishing off the espresso, setting the copper cup back on the nightstand, his hand coming around to press at her thigh, eyes still intensely focused on her. “I’ve never used it before; I bought it a long time ago, on a whim; maybe someday I’ll find someone to use this with, I remember thinking. And it’s been in that chest ever since, for years.”

“I guess it was waiting for me.” Kenzie grinned at him, her espresso cup now empty, too. Duncan pressed his face down to her, the bitter taste of the coffee mingling between their mouths, her hand coming up to cradle against his hair.

“Kenzie, I was waiting for you,” he said, and she shivered a little, pressing into him. They stared at each other for another long moment; my sweet Hades, come out into the sun with me, Kenzie thought, and pulled away from him, climbing out of the bed. He whined after her. “Time to get up, baby,” she replied, turning her nose up in mock-severity. “You can kiss me on the beach.”

Kenzie went into the bathroom to where all her things were lined up on the sink opposite Duncan’s; she loved the picture of it, his minimalist bottles and jars, her colorful containers of perfume and makeup. She reached for her brush, pulling it down into the tawny tangle of her hair as Duncan came up behind her, now in a tight dark grey pair of briefs in the same style he always wore--his hands came around her in the mirror, drifting up to her little breasts in the wrap dress, and she grinned at him, turning her head to the side so he could kiss her jaw as she continued to brush her hair. He reached for his toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste on the counter over her shoulder, and Kenzie couldn’t help but admire him again in the reflection as she set the brush down; how lovely to spend the whole day with you, she thought. How lucky I am. But it isn’t luck, is it? It’s how things are meant to be. Me and you, baby. Kenzie admired the small dusting of hair in the center of Duncan’s chest, the fall of his belly (his bellybutton was concave, and Kenzie thought of her own, which pressed outward just a little), the trail of hair leading down into his groin, the coiled strength in his upper arms, the staggering loveliness of his hands, which looked always akin to something painted by Michelangelo, the gods’ perfect daydream of hands. Those hands on my body, what ecstasy, she thought, reaching for her own toothbrush.

“You know,” she said, staring at him through the bathroom mirror as she ran cold water over the bristles of the brush, “I’m wearing my bikini under this.”

Duncan’s eyes flicked toward her and rolled up a little, and he leaned down to spit into the sink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and reaching for her, his hands (your fucking hands, love) coming up under her breasts to grip her ribs there, possessively. “Fuck, Kenzie. Don’t tell me that. We’re not going anywhere if you don’t stop it, baby. I’m gonna throw you on the fucking bed and fuck you all day instead.”

Kenzie made a face and stuck her tongue out at him, which was covered in toothpaste. He laughed at her, moving his hands down to the dip of her waist. Kenzie twisted away from him and he let go, reluctantly. “I told you I wanna go to the beach,” she said with mock severity. “Do as I say and get ready, Dunny.”

He pouted at her. “Fine, Princess Kenzie.”

Kenzie rinsed her toothbrush, grinning at him again. “I like that. Princess Kenzie.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, teasingly.

“You are. You are my fucking Princess, aren’t you, baby.”

“Uh huh. And you’re my Prince.” He smiled at her (absolutely intoxicating, my Prince, my Hades pulling me down from a field of flowers into your dark smoldering kingdom of bones and pressing your ardent kisses into my body, baby) and went to the closet, his eyes skirting back over her as he did. “You should see the stuff people are saying online,” he said, turning away from her as she followed him out, disappearing into the walk-in, obscured from her for a moment.

“Like what,” Kenzie followed him into the closet, too, reaching for a pair of beige flat sandals with laces similar to the heeled sandals that rested beside it (those sandals he’d unlaced on that first night, pressing her into him and Kenzie knew her life was about to change forever, somehow, I knew) on her side of the shelves. She slipped them onto her feet (her toes unpainted but neatly trimmed--when Kenzie got a pedicure, which was very seldom, she asked for clear polish only), leaning down to tie the laces. Duncan glanced to her from where he was rifling through one of his lower drawers--then he knelt down, quickly, still in only his dark gray underwear, and gently pushed her hands away, carefully crossing the lacing over her ankles, the gentle caress of his fingers making her legs break out into goosebumps instantly, and Kenzie’s heart slammed against her breasts. He’s so wonderful. Fuck. Baby. You call me angel, but you’re my angel too.

He finished tying the laces (double knots) and looked up at her from where he knelt before her; Kenzie could see the devotion dancing in his gaze again, and felt frozen under it. How can you, Duncan Shepherd, be looking at me this way.

“Thanks, baby,” she whispered.

“They’re saying we’re the most beautiful couple they’ve ever seen, that you’re a princess, a queen, and I that should marry you. And I am inclined to agree.”

“Dunny. We’ve been dating for a week.” Kenzie’s heart slammed into her ribs again. In a colossal tidal wave of abandon, she allowed herself to indulge the thought for a few seconds; imagined their wedding, surrounded by a thousand flowers, imagined a flower crown around her head with crystals threaded through it, imagined how beautiful he would look, his hair falling so perfectly, his blue eyes looking at her with the same reverence she saw in them now, clutching her hands in a dappled sunset, surrounded by loved ones, pressing cake into his cheek, both of them laughing. Then she willed herself to bury these thoughts; god, could anything be so wonderful...Kenz, it’s already happening, you’re surrounded by wonder already, how is any of this real in the first place. Kenzie felt dizzy suddenly as Duncan stood up, his hands reaching for hers. He gazed down at her.

“I love you, Kenzie.”

“You’re still in your underwear, Duncan.”

“I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” and she went up on her tip-toes (I just can’t reach you otherwise, can I, baby, she thought with a thrill) and kissed him. “Now, get dressed.” She turned her back to him, pushing away her needs and her disappointment and her daydreams of their imaginary wedding (I’m inclined to agree) and the allure of his blue eyes as he looked after her hungrily--time to pack us a picnic lunch for the beach, she thought, time to spend all day with you, in a dream.

------

It was about an hour later when they left the penthouse; Duncan was carrying the picnic basket now stocked with a picturesque array of foods from his seemingly-always-perfectly-stocked futuristic silver fridge, as Kenzie was starting to notice--clusters of wine-colored grapes, a wheel of white brie, tiny, round, crispy baguette crisps, several small cuts of cured charcuterie sausage, cold chicken, golden pears, little gherkin cucumbers--and another basket in his left hand, this one with two bottles of wine (a white and a rose) and a six-pack of Corona cerveza, which Kenzie had been delighted to find on the bottom shelf of the fridge (he does drink beer after all, reassuring her once again that he was indeed human) and one perfect green lime. Tucked under his arm were two luxuriously huge jacquard-woven cotton white-and-navy beach towels, which Kenzie had squealed in delight over when she found them in the linen closet in the bathroom. He had a different pair of sunglasses on today; these were round black Saint Laurent with very thin frames, and made him look like a famous musician to her, effortlessly cool--his shirt was a collared button-down Hawaiian-style with a print that reminded her of the dappled floor of a pool, and he was wearing navy blue Burberry swim trunks with a white tie around his abdomen, and black thonged Armani sandals--today Kenzie had noticed how well-pedicured his feet were in the sun, the prettiest feet on a boy I have ever seen, she thought, shyly. Kenzie tucked her hair behind her ear in the soft wind, glancing around--mercifully no paps, she thought, good thing because Harris has today off--shifting the buckled navy-and-white beach blanket she carried to her other arm, a slouching straw beach bag over her shoulder with sunscreen, one of her books (Jane Eyre), a cardigan, her phone, her earbuds, her cheap little round rosy-golden sunglasses, and her wallet. She clutched the edge of her straw beach hat in her fingers (it had a black ribbon around the crown) and smiled at him. Duncan gave her a little smile in return as they walked to the BMW, the sidewalk quiet today--the sky was clearest blue, with no clouds, and it was already quite warm, in the low 80’s. Samuel was idling there on the corner--as Kenzie looked up he came out of the driver’s side and reached for the buckled blanket she carried, grinning at her, lifting it carefully from her grasp. “Thank you, Samuel,” she murmured.

“You two look like you’re about to go to a photoshoot,” he replied, cheerfully. He was wearing dark sunglasses today and Kenzie could see her reflection in their shiny surface, her hair drifting around her shoulders, the dip of her wrap dress. “You are stunning, Miss Mackenzie.” She grinned at him, toying with the tiny rose-gold necklaces she’d put on today--three charms, a celestial sun, a crescent moon, and a planet with rings. Duncan carefully placed the two baskets in the trunk which Samuel had opened for them, then tucked the towels in beside them--Kenzie’s heart swelled to look at the beautiful things all lined up neatly there before Duncan shut the lid with a snap, beckoning her away from her thoughts and into the backseat as Samuel got back into the driver’s side. “C’mon, baby, the jet’s waiting for us at Dulles.” Kenzie slid in behind him, her hat in her lap, She looked up at Duncan--he was gazing at her (I’m always caught in his blue-fire eyes, licking at my skin) with a serene expression, and he reached for her hand, twining his fingers through hers.

“I’m so happy to spend the whole day with you,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss her. Kenzie’s breath caught in her lungs--my life is this charmed thing now, this beautiful dream, only it’s not a dream, it’s really happening, you’re really mine--at the scent of him, woodsy and musk, and she returned his kiss, closing her eyes, lost in the moment and the feeling of his hand on her cheek as the car pulled away from the curb, and the air smelled like sunlight and cool green grass, the windows down and the warmth on her skin. Samuel played Etta James again today--at last, the skies above are blue...my heart was wrapped up in clover, the night I looked at you...I found a dream that I could speak to, I dream that I can call my own…

-----

At the airport Samuel pulled into a designated area for cars near a lot where several private planes were lined next to each other, partitioned into a small bunker--”Come on, baby,” Duncan murmured to her, pulling away from the cradle of their embrace, where they’d been lost in the touch of each other on the way, leading her gently out of the car, his blue eyes glinting at her over the rim of his sunglasses--Kenzie let him pull her up, let him grasp the edge of her straw hat to carry it for her, his other hand holding hers tightly, and he led her to a jet on the end, white with red curving ribbons of color along the sides--900 LX, Kenzie could see printed on the tail, serial numbers along one of the side-engines. Its stairs were already extended to the ground, anticipating them--the pilot, who was white and middle-aged with a large nose, a dark brown mustache going gray around the edges, and squarish sunglasses was standing casually near it, sipping from a Fiji water bottle, a cigarette in his other hand, almost entirely smoked. He gave Duncan a little wave as they approached, and Kenzie noticed him look down over the dip of the sunglasses at her, smiling a little, curiously. His gaze was gray and friendly.

“Duncan,” he said cordially. “And this must be the famous Mackenzie Stone.”

“Pat,” Duncan said, nodding at him, then smiling down at her. “The one and only.” Kenzie shyly readjusted the strap of her beach bag. “I dunno about that,” she said, a mortified blush in her cheeks. “Nice to meet you, Pat.”

“The internet’s in charge these days,” Pat replied, cheerfully. “And it says you’re famous now. Welcome aboard, Miss Stone.” He inclined an arm toward the plane’s steps, and Duncan’s hand went to the small of her back, pressing her slowly toward them. Kenzie grasped the silvery railing, gathering the edge of her wrap dress in one hand so she wouldn’t trip, and stepped up into the plane; she glanced over her shoulder at Duncan, who nodded at her encouragingly. Inside, there were several rows of seats--7 rows in all, two seats per row except for the last, which was one long seat with two seatbelts. A woman of indefinite age with coffee-colored skin, in a smart white blouse and fitted black pants, smiled at her as Kenzie got to the top--she wore mauve lipstick and dark eyeshadow, and had her dark hair tied back in a glossy ponytail.

“Miss Stone,” she said, holding out a carefully manicured hand; her nails were dark red, and her smile was warm. Kenzie grasped her fingers, smiling back. “I’m Pilar, buenos días. I’m your stewardess today. Please do not hesitate to let me know if you need anything. I’ve been taking care of Duncan since he was five years old.” She had a very slight accent, a vague lilt at the end of her words. She glanced at Duncan, her eyes bright on him. “I watched him grow more and more handsome everyday.” Duncan looked away, clearly embarrassed at her flattery.

“Pilar used to slip me extra cookies when Mom wasn’t looking,” he said, then looked down at Kenzie affectionately. “My partner in crime.” Pilar laughed; it was a wonderful laugh, her head thrown back with abandon, the sound of it seeming to emanate from the pit of her belly. “Always,” she replied. “We’ve just switched to extra gin and tonics these days.”

“Speaking of which--” Duncan said, and Pilar nodded, grinning at him. “Claro, Duncan. Please get settled, I’ll let you know when Pat says we’re ready to go. Is Samuel here?”

“You know he is. I can’t seem to get him to take more time off, no matter how hard I try.”

Pilar looked down the stairs to where Samuel was carefully carrying their picnic baskets towards the plane; she let out a little squeal and carefully rushed down the steps on her black pumps, trotting towards him to give him a long hug; Samuel’s big white grin was visible from where they stood at the top of the steps. Kenzie smiled towards them; Samuel really is the best, everyone who works for the Shepherds is so wonderful. I never really realized how many people are constantly working behind the scenes for the wealthy. When Duncan takes over Shepherd Unlimited, we have to make sure they’re really being taken care of. Kenzie went through the side-door of the jet, hesitating over the seats; Duncan pointed towards the back, where the long seats were. “Let’s sit back there, Kenz, yeah?” Kenzie nodded and made her way there, setting her beach bag on the floor, sitting and looking up at him carefully. “Everyone is so wonderful, Duncan, everyone who works for your family, I mean. We have to make sure they’re all getting paid fairly. We have to make sure they have good benefits--when you take over the company, I mean. I’m just...so moved by everyone.” Kenzie pushed the apprehension she felt over being so forward with him away; surely, he must understand what I’m saying. He’s my dearest love and he will listen to me.

“I agree. Mom hasn’t been very transparent with me about that sort of thing and I plan to go over everyone’s salaries and benefits as soon as I take over for my Uncle.” Duncan sat next to her, reaching for her hand, taking his sunglasses off to look at her. Kenzie reached her fingers up to his cheek and Duncan turned his face into her palm, closing his eyes, as if the feeling of her alone moved him beyond words. Oh baby, she heard his mind push the sweetness of the emotion in it towards her, you are such an angel, I’ll do whatever it takes to deserve you. I have to. You deserve only the best of everything, including the best of me. Her heart ached inside his words; she was nodding to him before she realized. “We can make so many people happy,” she whispered.

“Kenzie. Listen to me. I want to make you and Madeline members of the board of directors for Shepherd Unlimited.”

Kenzie’s fingers were still on Duncan’s cheek and she gasped a little; he opened his eyes and stared at her, his gaze unflinching, and put his hand up against hers, keeping her fingers on him.

“Duncan. What.”

“Kenz. I mean it. Please say yes.”

“I--fuck, Duncan, I--”

“I know you can do this. You’re so brave and so brilliant and so kind. I need your help, baby. I need your help to make Shepherd Unlimited into what it needs to be to help people. I need you.”

At that moment Pilar stepped back on board the plane, carrying the picnic baskets; Kenzie could see her through the open pathway between the plane’s plug door and the seats, the curtain there pulled to the side. Samuel was behind her with the beach blanket and their beach towels, and he and Pilar were chatting amiably, not having noticed the heightened nature of the looks on Duncan and Kenzie’s faces or the way Duncan held her hand against his face. Kenzie let go of him and looked down at her bag, rifling in it for her phone, attempting to keep the other two from noticing her expression; her head was pounding, and she could feel Duncan’s eyes (blue flames) on her, feel the warmth of his emotions still, falling over her. Pilar and Samuel were slipping the baskets into a fridge towards the front of the plane, beside the door to the cockpit, and then Samuel waved to them; Kenzie smiled at him from her bag and Duncan gave him a little nod, then Samuel turned and kissed Pilar’s cheek in an affectionate gesture before he climbed back out. Pilar came towards them, and Kenzie fought to straighten her face, pulling her phone out of her bag and clutching it tightly in her hand. Duncan’s fingers came against her thigh, and his touch immediately began to soothe her nerves; it was medicinal, healing, and utterly trusting. The board of directors, she thought, dumbstruck. Me and Momby. Oh, my god, Duncan. Annette will actually explode.

“Pat says we’re ready to go,” Pilar said, her dark brown eyes shifting between them. “I’ll get you that gin and tonic as soon as we’re in the air, Duncan. Mackenzie--what would you like?”

“Umm,” Kenzie’s mind felt blank, like a chalkboard someone had wiped clean.

“I make a strong mimosa,” Pilar wiggled her eyebrows, sticking a little bit of her tongue between her very straight, white teeth.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Pilar.”

“You look a little green, mami. Do you get airsick?”

“Um, no, no, I don’t think so.”

Duncan squeezed Kenzie’s leg a little, his eyes on her with an expression of concern. I didn’t mean to bring it up too soon, they seemed to say, though his thoughts were indistinct to her right now. I didn’t mean to upset you. Kenzie slipped her hand under where his was against her thigh, opening her palm to him, threading her fingers into his. “I’m okay, just excited, I guess.”

“I have to say this--don’t get upset with me, Duncan, miho--but ¡qué parejazo!--you are a very, very beautiful couple,” Pilar said, and Kenzie could see the way the woman’s face was flushed with the sincerity of her words. “No wonder everyone online is so obsessed. Like a prince and a princess, ay dios mio. Like royalty.”

“Ugh, Pilar. Thank you.” Kenzie looked at Duncan as he said it and saw the blush on his cheeks, and his delighted grin at her sincerity. Pilar shifted her gaze onto Kenzie again, her expression tinged with both immediate affection and concern. You don’t even know me yet, and already you’re so lovely, Kenzie thought, a wave of appreciation washing over her. I think I have to do this. I think I have to accept what Duncan is proposing. I think I need to be on the board of directors and be fucking brave and fucking do this for him--for everyone. I can help everyone in the company if I do this and so many people who aren’t in it, too. And Momby will be there too, if she accepts. Why wouldn’t she? Annette may hate me, but Momby loves Duncan already.

“Thank you, Pilar.” Kenzie’s voice trembled a little, and Pilar leaned down to her immediately, grasping the hand Duncan wasn’t holding, her other hand coming up against Kenzie’s hair to rest gently on her shoulder, her face full of sympathy. “Mami, you are doing just fine. Don’t you worry. It must be hard to suddenly be in the spotlight this way. But I can see how much this boy loves you. In fact, I have never seen him this way. And es tan conmovedor...it’s very beautiful to see. You will be happy together. I can see that too. I’m gonna make you a very strong mimosa, and you’re going to have a beautiful day together.” Pilar squeezed Kenzie’s hand, then she straightened and turned to pass through the aisle, closing the curtain behind her. They heard an audible click and Pat’s voice fell into their ears from overhead. “Hey Duncan and Mackenzie, we’re all clear for take off, should be about three hours, skies are super clear and the wind is with us, don’t see any delays. I’ll check back in when we’re on our way down. Enjoy Pilar’s strong libations, Mackenzie, she’s infamous for them.” The loudspeaker clicked off and the Kenzie felt the plane drift forward. She snapped her seatbelt together, phone in her lap, and Duncan snapped his in turn beside her before leaning into the side of her hair, his lips pressing into her ear.

“Kenzie, baby, are you okay?”

“Mmhmm. I’m okay. I’m just...everything is...everything’s so…”

“You don’t have to explain, Kenzie. I love you.”

Kenzie lapsed into grateful silence, looking into his lovely face, her heart full. She sniffed a little, pushing her tears back; she could feel the plane drifting towards the runway, and her stomach did a somersault; I told Pilar I don’t get airsick, but I guess that isn’t entirely true. I feel sick right now. I feel overwhelmed in the wonder of everything again. Right now she felt as though her heart was trying to leave her body. The plane accelerated and she gripped Duncan’s hand harder; he leaned into her and her head fell on his shoulder, his chin coming gently against the crown of her hair. Kenzie closed her eyes as the plane went faster and faster, trying to concentrate on the warmth and pressure of Duncan’s hand; then she felt the plane lifting off the ground and the empty drift of its ascent into open air. She breathed out, slowly--she could feel Duncan breathing carefully, measuredly, beside her, feel the rise of his chest under the crook of her arm resting at his side. She thought of Pilar’s words, the sincerity in her eyes: you will be happy together.

------

A few minutes later they were still sitting quietly that way; Kenzie had been drifting inside the feeling of Duncan’s hand, the woodsy smell of him under her nose, the feeling of his jaw against her head, the slow incline of the plane; she opened her eyes as she heard Pilar come through the curtain again with a bar cart, upon which was a dish of round ice cubes, a plastic tumbler of gin and tonic for Duncan, and a plastic champagne flute of mimosa for her. Pilar handed Kenzie the flute with a napkin pressed to the side, her warm hand touching Kenzie’s fingers gently, then she handed the tumbler to Duncan with a napkin underneath it. “Enjoy, vida bellas. Call me when you want another.” She gestured to the round buttons on the far edge of the armrest of Kenzie’s seat, and then Pilar winked at her; Kenzie smiled up at her and nodded against Duncan. I love her. Pilar turned the bar cart back around as Duncan unbuckled his seat belt, carefully easing away from the soft weight of Kenzie’s head, pulling the tray on the back of the seat in front of him down to place his drink on it, then he turned to her and looked at her for a long moment--Kenzie held her mimosa, her fingers chilly on its icy, smooth surface, feeling frozen inside him. I’ll always get lost in his eyes. And not just because they’re so beautiful--but because they look at me as if I’m the reason for their beauty. And that’s what shakes me. She took a deep breath.

“Baby. Okay. Dunny. Duncan. I accept.”

“Kenzie.” The smile that broke over his face crushed into her heart like flower petals falling in a spring storm. “Thank you. Baby. Everything we can do. Everything we will do, together. With you by my side, I know we can do wonderful things with the company. Things that will help the world.” He reached for her hand; Kenzie felt overcome with the rawness of the emotion that drifted between them, and she smiled back at him, tears in her eyes.

“Baby, let’s take some photos today,” Duncan said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, opening his camera. “I wanna save memories from this day. I wanna look back on them later. Our first full day together, no one else.” Kenzie grinned at him; this sweet angel. Duncan pressed his hand against her cheek for a moment, then moved it to angle his phone. Kenzie lifted the mimosa out to him; it caught the morning light through the plane’s row of small windows, and Duncan lifted his drink with his other hand, his index finger reached out as they clinked them together, tucking around the incline of her hand between thumb and forefinger; he held his phone up and snapped a photo. He held it up to her for her approval; Kenzie gazed down at it, loving the graceful shape of his hands and the desirous affection with which he’d reached for her, the dancing golden line of light reflecting off her flute. She nodded at him, cheeks burning. “Good, baby. Really good.” He grinned at her (the smile of an angel) and she watched him type, though he had his phone angled so she couldn’t quite make out the letters.

Kenzie opened the Instagram app impatiently on her phone in her lap; the first photo that popped up on her feed was the one Duncan had just posted. At the bottom he’d included a caption: Stealing away to a secret hideaway for today with @kenzielouwho. I am the happiest man on earth.

Kenzie’s cheeks burned, her heart full to bursting. Duncan reached out for her hand and she felt his face lean down to her, lips against her cheek. “I can’t wait to be alone with you, baby, really alone.” The whisper of his mouth against her made her shiver. She turned her face into him; into his mouth, this mouth that’s mine, this mouth that is a part of me as he is a part of me, as he is the other part of me, once lost in the darkness, now illuminated in the light. And what a bright light we are. What a brilliant light we will be.

“Dunny. I love you. I love you so much.” She looked up into his eyes; his were glittering with a sheen of moisture, and she breathed against him, her words soft, her hands caressing down his arms to soothe him. “You are my special one. The only one.”

He blinked, then closed his eyes and let out a little sigh, as if overwhelmed by her touch and her words. Kenzie watched as tears gathered along the edge of his eyelashes and she fought back her own, and concentrated, pushing her thoughts into him with golden fingers; the size of the love inside me for you is greater than I am; how can something within me be bigger than I am? But it is. I know it is. I wish I could show you, pull it out of me and let it fall over you, a weightless armor for you to wear, and wearing it, you’d always be fearless, and you would never need to cry about anything, Dunny, because your heart would know that mine holds it, always. I’ll love you until the stars fade and the universe is swallowed in darkness. I’ll love you with all of me, in every lifetime, with all of my body and every bit of my soul, forever.

--------

Kenzie had drifted off into sleep against him about an hour later; she’d been idly scrolling through Duncan’s Instagram, leaving hearts and starbursts and kiss emojis on his posts (red carpets and black-tie events and photoshoots and one that she particularly loved of him laughing on the deck of some opulent place, looking into the camera with the sunset fading behind him; Mom got my good side, he’d written below--all your sides are your good side, baby, she thought, you are the most beautiful boy I have ever seen). She tried to avoid the comments--they left her stomach in a ball of anxiety--but Kenzie noticed Duncan had liked and left hearts and heart-eyes and comments (my baby, I love you, you look so beautiful here, and so on) on almost all of her photos. She’d also noticed she had over a million followers now--yikes. As she did this, Duncan threaded his fingers through her hair quietly--he’d seemed unable to speak for awhile, lost in the intensity of his emotions, and she had pressed her head into the crook under his arm, that spot of mine, until she felt his breathing quiet and his body soothe under her touch, and in his embrace, eventually, she’d fallen into a slumber wherein she dreamt about finding a dead deer under a flowering tree; in the dream, she’d laid her hands carefully on its matted fur, and pushed life back into it; reversed time, her dream-self had thought, I pulled time back so it left the thing that happened in a future still unwritten and I brought the life back from the dark place it went into when the deer shuddered its death-rattle, and the deer had gotten up and walked away, and in the dream Kenzie had thought yes, that’s it, that’s the way of it, the right of it. But then she woke up--woke up to the sound of Pilar pushing the little bar cart back through the curtain, handing her another mimosa with her warm smile. When Pilar had left again, she sleepily leaned away from Duncan, setting her mimosa down on the tray in front of them, and he looked down at her affectionately, his phone in this other hand--Kenzie saw he’d been on sothebys.com, looking through the “upcoming auctions” section. My boyfriend is rich enough to casually browse priceless antiquities like he’s shopping on Amazon.

“Pat was just on the speaker,” he said to her softly, “We’re starting the descent into Yarmouth now. The drive from the airport is only about five minutes, and then we’ll be right on the beachfront, baby.” He trailed his large hand down her arm, then onto her thigh. “Were you dreaming?”

“Uh huh. There was this dead deer...I had a white dress and a golden headband with leaves on it--and I touched the deer and brought it back to life. It was so strange. The other day I had this dream where Claire was choking and I literally did something to open the skin of her neck and get the thing out that was choking her, and then she was okay. What the fuck does that mean?”

Duncan gave her a puzzled look, re-buckling his seatbelt. “That is weird. I’m no expert on dreams; I wonder if it means anything. Maybe we should go see a psychic or something,” and he grinned at her. Kenzie made a face and stretched; Duncan lifted his hand up to press it down her waist as she did, in a longing moment of abandon. “I keep thinking about last night, baby,” he leaned into her, whispering. “I keep thinking about that mirror and how it feels like it always belonged with us somehow, I keep thinking about how beautiful you looked in it--” Kenzie couldn’t help it--Duncan looked so beautiful, his hair falling in perfect waves, his eyes so impossibly blue, staring into her, the light shadow on his jaw, the curve of his cheek as the now-midday sunlight from the plane’s small windows fell against him, his straight nose and full lips and the way he reached for her with his beautiful, graceful hands, the tenderness and aching lilt in his voice--thoughts of last night fell down into her too, the musky smell of him as he had fucked her, filling her to the point of madness, the commanding voice he’d used to tell her to open her eyes, to watch them in their passionate embrace--and she forgot the strange dream in the space of a moment, her mouth coming up to his, lost inside the immensity of his arms (the greatness of my love for you angel is as vast as the universe and you fill me up so it grows more and more and its beauty staggers me), she heard his thought, tinged with blue flame. As the plane descended, they barely noticed--Kenzie felt his eyelashes brush against her cheek as he kissed her, pulling her into him, needy; and by the time it had landed and the steps had descended and Pilar came through the curtain to tell them they’d arrived, Kenzie and Duncan were breathing fiercely into each other, reality obscured by lust and Pilar’s strong drinks, mislaid in the scent and the feeling of the other, trying to resurface from the private place between them into whence they’d strayed in the space of moments.

“Mis amores, the beach is waiting for you,” Pilar said as they pulled away from each other, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy. “You can continue where you left off when you get there.” She was grinning at them, and Kenzie leaned down to grab her beach bag as Duncan pushed his sunglasses onto his nose, as if to hide the brightness of his eyes, the heavy vibration of their desire for her. He turned to Kenzie and gave her another kiss, this one a small peck, his mouth closed; wait till we get to the beach house, she heard him press into her, and the wave of want inside the thought made goosebumps break out on her skin. Pilar helped them carry their beach equipment down the steps, and there was already a dark SUV waiting for them, a service from the airport--they carefully lined the baskets and towels and blanket in the trunk with the driver’s help, and Kenzie slid into the backseat, Duncan behind her.

“We should be back by 5,” Duncan said to Pilar before he slid the door shut.

“Si, Duncan, Mackenzie. Enjoy each other.” Pilar grinned at them mischievously again and turned away to where Pat was having another cigarette--Kenzie saw him pass one to her as the car drove away. She reached for Duncan’s hand; so close to being alone with you in the sunlight, baby, she thought, and relief washed over her as he clutched her tightly. He was right about the ride being short--4 minutes and 50 seconds later, the driver was helping Duncan with the baskets and the buckled blanket while Kenzie gathered the beautiful beach towels in her arms, breathing in their freshly-laundered scent. The Shepherds’ beach house was a huge, classic white Cape Cod-style, with two decks and a wide driveway facing the street, enclosed by a padlocked gate that Duncan had hopped out of the SUV to press a code into as the driver pulled up. As the driver went through, Kenzie could see the white stretch of beach visible behind the house, and no other residences were close enough to spy--Kenzie saw two other similar houses about a two dozen yards down the street, but they seemed to either be empty right now, or their residents inside. Kenzie looked back at the house; and it seemed to look back at Kenzie in quiet contemplation, ocean-minded and easy. The driver placed the baskets on the doorstep and Duncan thanked him; Kenzie hopped up behind him as the man walked away and drove off. “He’ll be back around 5,” Duncan murmured to her, and used a keycard from his wallet to open the door. It swung to a living area with a long, expensive-looking brown leather couch and easy-chair, seashells and gold paperweights and books on the shelves, a stone-lined fireplace in one corner. Kenzie moved through it to the kitchen after him, where he placed the picnic baskets on a tasteful island in the center of the room (not like Duncan’s obsidian island, but nothing is as beautiful as that is). The kitchen had long counter-tops and a spotlessly clean dining table with seven chairs, and Kenzie could see a long deck through the window of a pair of sliding doors; she felt giddy at the wide stretch of sand she could see beyond it.

“Fuck yes!” She couldn’t help it--this is fucking great, she thought, rushing to the door of the deck, yanking it open, feeling the sea breeze cascade over her hair and cheeks as she did. Kenzie stepped onto the deck and hopped a little, up and down, with pure delight. She could see seagulls wheeling above them; long seagrass stretched along the beach in clusters, and the sand seemed impossibly light in the dappled warmth of the sun and the deeply blue sky. Duncan followed her out onto the deck, smiling at her with an expression of pure happiness--she couldn’t see his eyes for his dark sunglasses, but he laughed as she hopped up and down again, falling against him.

“Baby,” she said into him, breathlessly. “This is so beautiful. We should come here every fucking day.”

“I agree. Fuck work and everyone who isn’t you, angel.” Duncan gathered her against him and his kiss tasted like the sun, its warmth reaching into her and pressing around her lungs. “I think we should go down to the sand and eat lunch and lay in the sunlight.”

“Oh fuck yes,” Kenzie agreed. “I just wanna look at you for the rest of the day, baby.”

“Ugh, baby,” and Duncan leaned down to her again and his hands came to the tie at her waist, undoing it before she even thought of stopping him--his hands (those hands) slipped down to the bare skin above her bikini bottoms, sliding against the softness of her waist and belly, and his tongue went into her mouth, and Kenzie couldn’t stop the little moan that came out of her, the smell of him like sandalwood and damp earth, her hands coming around his neck. Duncan’s hands went down around her ass, clutching her there for a moment (last night how you fucked my ass and filled me up and came inside me there how you fucked me so fucking good baby) and he moved them further down still to grip her at the back of her thighs, lifting her into his arms, her head hovering above his, their lips still crushed together. Duncan carried her, kissing her, pressing her against him, back into the kitchen, then into the living room--Kenzie gasped as he threw her down onto the long leather couch, tossing his sunglasses onto the easy-chair, pushing the dress away from her body; he kneeled down to where she lay against one of the throw pillows, watching him with desire and delight, and pressed her legs apart, insistently, staring at her--then Duncan licked his lips and Kenzie let out another little moan; she brought a finger up between her mouth, biting into the pad of it, lost in his eyes again. Duncan grasped her bikini bottoms in his two long hands (those fucking hands, fuck) and yanked them down from her thighs in one strong motion; they pooled around her ankles and Duncan pulled them away from her feet, his lips kissing into her knees for a moment--then he pressed her legs apart harshly again, his lips coming up the inside of her thigh, slowly, carefully, with concentrated attentions--his tongue slid up the delicate, sensitive incline of the space between where her thigh met her hip bone and down to where the lip of her cunt began--Kenzie’s body shuddered with the knowledge of where it would go next, and she whimpered into her finger, eyes half-closed now.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispered, and she felt his breath against the wetness he’d left on her skin. “What do you want me to do to you? Tell me. Command me.”

“Duncan, eat my pussy. Suck my clit. Do it right now.”

He groaned into her at that; Kenzie could see the mound of his erection under the thin fabric of his swimming trunks from where he knelt. He pressed his hands on either side of her thighs, wrenching her legs apart even further so her cunt was lifted up to his face, the lips of her vulva shuddering as her muscles spasmed in arousal; then he pressed his mouth against the bud of her clit and laved his tongue out against it, achingly slow. Kenzie shuddered violently; a prolonged moan erupted from the back of her throat, and she felt his mouth smile against her. He paused, his lips pressed into her, and Kenzie bit into her lip, hard, trying not to beg--but the sensation of him was too much to bear.

“Bay-beeee,” and she heard her own voice as if removed from it, as if floating beside herself, “fuck me with your tongue, Dunny, fuck me good with your mouth--”

Duncan didn’t need another prompting--he sucked insistently at her clit as her pleading bled out into whimpers again, his grip pressing her thighs apart, making her core ache with intensity and need. Kenzie could feel how wet her cunt was growing--she felt dampness leaking down into the pucker of her ass, felt droplets of his spit falling into the folds of her vulva. Duncan pressed his tongue into her clit again, then probed down into the canal of her pussy, then back up, and her hips bucked up into him, slowly, into his mouth, to welcome him inside her. Duncan’s blue eyes opened from where they’d been closed in concentration; Kenzie tried not to gasp as she stared into them, feeling dazed, bewitched in his stare--not every girl gets eaten out by a fucking angel, she thought, fighting to keep her gaze inside his, her heart fluttering wildly as the intensity of his attentions between her legs caused a hot, rising swell there, her orgasm already threatening to arrive full-force into his mouth.

“Kenzie, come for me, Princess,” he murmured into her, and Kenzie’s head fell back, her eyes falling up to the ceiling, unable to stop herself. Princess, oh my god. I am your Princess, baby. You’re my Prince, and I’m your Princess. She couldn’t help but feel a kind of carnal satisfaction at the word--I’m yours, your princess, now fuck me good. “Fuck your Princess good, baby,” she said, and watched his eyes come up from where his mouth worked on her, a promise in his gaze: oh, I fucking will. Suddenly she thought of the dress Morgan had sketched for her; the dress she would wear to the Gala, resplendent and divine. Wait until you see this fucking dress, baby, she thought. Your Princess all in gold.

Duncan sucked at her clit again, his fingers coming up demandingly to press the lips of her vulva away from the bud, and Kenzie shuddered, feeling the wave of her release riding up now--the most beautiful boy in the whole fucking world is pressed between my legs right now, sucking on my clit, and he calls me baby, calls me angel, calls me Princess, calls me divine, a goddess, and he wants me to come, and fuck, I’m gonna--

“Gonna come now, gonna come hard, baby--” And Kenzie’s hips bucked up harshly into his mouth now and Duncan continued to press his fingers into her so the lips of her cunt were spread under them and his mouth was pressed with careful immediacy around her clit, his tongue working into it as she moaned, her mouth wide and raised up, and his other hand came into the wetness that rushed out of her between her legs, fingers probing into her cunt to feel it spasm out her release in waves, her muscles clenching around him.

“Yes, baby, good,” he whispered into her, his breath on her clit making her shudder again and again as she came down. “I love how you feel when you come under my mouth like that, fuck--” He licked his lips (oh my god, those lips) and Kenzie pulled his face up with shaking hands, pulled his wet mouth against hers, tasting and smelling her own release on him--then she said “my turn baby, it’s my turn now,” and he moaned and she pressed him into the couch beside her and slid down, softly, between his legs, pushing the dress off her shoulders, undoing the tie at the back of her bikini top and tossing it to the floor, so she knelt between his knees naked for him, her cunt still spasming from the memory of her orgasm, kindling her desire to please him. Kenzie pushed her hair back, then her fingers went to the tie on his swim trunks, little fingers working quickly. “Uhh, Kenzie, angel baby,” he whined, and his hand came up to press into one of her little breasts, his thumb fondling over her nipple, his eyes (blue flames, storms, demanding) shining at her, all his attention focused on her, his mouth still wet from her. Kenzie reached down into the waistband of his trunks and her hand fell on his cock, thick and hard (so big, filling me up when he fucks me)--she pulled it out, gripping it tightly, as she moved her other hand down between her legs to slick the wetness from her orgasm over her fingers. Duncan watched her do it with hunger shining out of his beautiful eyes--”Fuck, Kenzie,” he whispered, and she shushed him, bringing the other hand, her fingers now soaked in her release, along the length of his cock, and using both her hands to lather it from the bottom of his shaft to the head, easing it into the sensitive hole there. Duncan’s head fell back and Kenzie felt the shudder in his thighs--then she dipped her head down brought her tongue over the head, bringing spit out of her mouth to slide down his length obscenely.

“I need you to come in my mouth,” she said, and she looked up at him, making sure to stare--making sure he saw the demand in them. “Fuck my mouth, Prince Duncan. Fuck my throat and come in my little mouth, baby.” He nodded (Prince Duncan, rapturous in his beauty), his lips falling open a little, and his hands came up to her head, gripping into her hair, gently at first, then more harshly. She slid her mouth down into his length, willing her throat to open and take him in--she gagged for just a moment, then felt his thick cock slide down into her throat until her lips were at the bottom of his shaft--Kenzie closed her eyes, steadying herself, then she moved back up and began to bob her head while he was still buried inside her --she felt Duncan lift his hips up into her, lost in her mouth, then back down, and into her again, so he was fucking her throat with slow, measured concentration--Kenzie closed her eyes, feeling tears gathering at the edges of her eyes at the intensity of his length inside her this way, but she continued to move her head, feeling spit drip down the side of her chin. Duncan reached out to wipe it away, and she looked into his eyes as he did--his were full of deep, coiled lust--but that same wildly ardent adoration of her twined around it, and Kenzie realized she’d stopped breathing. She lifted him out of her throat to gasp a breath out--then she plunged his length back down into her, and Duncan shivered violently, a deep moan tearing from his throat, and he said “Kenzie, baby, I’m gonna come in your mouth n-now, okay--”, his voice shuddering as he tried to hold back, and Kenzie nodded and pulled back so his cock was just between her lips, then she felt the wet heat of his release coat her tongue and the back of her teeth and a long rivulet of his white come ran down from the side of her mouth, drops falling on her knee, and her eyes fluttered closed as Duncan’s gaze went hazy on her, lost inside his orgasm, and he groaned as he watched her, his hand coming up to grip her throat gently, tenderly, but possessively, needy, his cock still delicately held in the front of her mouth as every drop shuddered out of him into her. He quieted and Kenzie swallowed, licking her lips--Duncan leaned forward and his tongue came out to lick his come from the side of her mouth where it had dribbled out, and then he kissed her, needy again, his mouth open, and she could taste both her release and his as they tongues came together.

“Fuck, Kenzie, that was fucking incredible,” he whispered into her. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Duncan,” and she smiled up into him, loving the hair falling on his forehead and the soft feeling of his fingers under her jaw, falling down into her golden hair. She reached down to where she’d discarded her bikini top and pulled it back around her little breasts; searched for where Duncan has discarded her bottoms and slipped them back on, standing on post-coital wobbly feet. Duncan leaned back to look at her for a long moment, carefully, tenderly slipping his cock, now going limp, back into his swim trunks. Kenzie stuck her tongue out at him, wiping at the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, and he laughed.

“Baby, I wanna take a picture,” he said, pleadingly.

“Oh, yeah, Mackenzie Stone, covered in sex, here she is everybody!”

“Please, baby? You look so beautiful.”

“Fine.” Kenzie rolled her eyes facetiously as Duncan pulled his phone from his back pocket--he held it up to her and Kenzie struck a pose, hands on her hips, dipping her legs together, her mouth smiling open, her eyes skirting to the side on a whim. “There, that’s the best Instagram pose I can do.”

“It was perfect, look,” Duncan held his phone up to her after a moment--he’d posted it with the caption Princess of the beach @kenzielouwho followed by the crown, celestial sun and wave emojis and she felt raw under the adoration in his gaze as he looked at her. She glanced down at the photo. Aw, I do look sort of cute, she thought. “You’re just good at taking pictures, baby,” she murmured to him. Duncan shook his head. “No, you’re just really that fucking beautiful, Kenzie.”

“Ugh, give it a rest, Mr. Shepherd,” Kenzie turned, squinting at him over her shoulder. “Help me bring all this stuff out, I’m starving.”

“Yes, Princess Kenzie,” Duncan replied, his tone obedient and playful, and she felt a secret thrill; I love it so much. I love telling him what to do and I love it when he obeys me. He’s so fucking beautiful and he’s mine. I love his devotion. Kenzie slung her beach bag over her shoulder, tucking the towels under her arm and grasping the basket with the beer and wine in it in the other hand--Duncan grasped the picnic basket and the buckled blanket and followed her out onto the deck and down the little wooden steps to the side, where there was a path that led a short way to the beach. It was hot and sunny now and the heat felt good on her skin, soothing away the intensity of the post-coital comedown she’d felt inside. She set the towels down carefully on top of the basket and as Duncan set the picnic basket down beside it she reached for the buckles under his arm, helping him spread the blanket out on the hot white sand, lifting her face up to kiss him for a moment.

“This was such a good idea,” she murmured to him, and Duncan smiled at her, nodding, his sunglasses back on the bridge of his nose. “I love it here, I knew you’d like it,” he replied. “I love how hidden it is from everything, I don’t even think most of the paps know about this house. They don’t seem to know about the Deep Creek cabin, either. I can’t wait to take you there, baby. It’s so beautiful there.”

Kenzie sat on the blanket, contentedly, and Duncan came down beside her, crossing his legs and reaching into the basket with the drinks, pulling out the frosty bottle of rose. Kenzie opened the picnic basket and handed him the bottle opener and he worked on the cork as she brought the plates and cutting board out, placing food on it carefully; the grapes and cheese and cold chicken. She popped some of the grapes into her mouth--”Gimme one of those, baby,” Duncan said, and she pushed one between his lips; they lingered on her, kissing her fingertips, before he chewed and swallowed, pulling the cork out of the bottle with a satisfying pop.

“I sort of mentioned something to your mother the other night at Busboys,” Duncan said, looking at her over the edge of his sunglasses, pulling out one of the wine glasses, filling it to the brim and handing it to her. Kenzie gawked at it, unable to suppress her grin, grasping it carefully. “Sheesh, baby, thanks--and what? You mean Momby knows about the board of directors thing already?”

“Not in so many words, but I asked for her help--when I take over for my Uncle. I guess I wasn’t sure yet exactly what I meant. But now I know I want her--and you--to have some clout, the power to make decisions that can combat and overrule Annette. Because I know one thing, Kenzie--Annette is going to combat us with this every step of the way. She’s not going to let either of you come in without pushing back. So we need to be ready for that.” Kenzie handed him a fork, a knife and a plate, and he took them gently from her, nodding gratefully. She smiled at him and jabbed her knife into one of the cold cuts of chicken, lifting the whole thing up to her mouth and biting into it ravenously. Having sex all the time sure makes you fucking hungry, she thought, deliriously drifting in happiness. This chicken is like, the best chicken I have ever fucking had. Everything tastes so good lately. She swallowed, reaching over to her beach bag and slipping on her gold-framed round sunglasses, pulling out the bottle of sunscreen after it, placing it on top of her bag as a reminder while they ate.

“I’m not afraid of your mother, baby,” she murmured, and she reached out to brush a finger across Duncan’s knee as he poured some wine for himself.

“I know you aren’t, baby, but I am. That’s why I need you and Madeline so much. I have to completely restructure the way Shepherd Unlimited functions as an enterprise--I have to convince the other shareholders that this is what’s best for everyone. I can do that with your help, I’m sure of it. I know we can do it together.”

Kenzie pulled one of the pears out of the basket and handed it to him--he gripped it from her hand, his fingers trailing along hers before lifting it to his mouth, his teeth ripping a chunk out of it with abandon. Kenzie pulled a sleeve of the tiny baguette crisps out too and ripped them open.

“I understand, baby. That’s why I’m going to do it.”

“Kenzie, please know how grateful I am. I don’t ask you this lightly. I know it’s going to be a challenge. I love you, Mackenzie.”

“Duncan.” Kenzie handed him one of the crackers, gently. “I love you too. I know. And I love eating with you like this. I love sitting here alone with you on this beautiful beach. I love you and I’m here for you and I’m with you, baby.”

“I want to buy the Post and give Candice executive powers over the operations. What do you think? Are you okay with that? I want to protect it from my mother and I want to protect you and your coworkers. I want to dismantle the show and Gardner Analytics. And I want to shift the Foundation’s goals. I want it to become a real Foundation. One that nurtures.”

“The Shepherd Foundation for Arts and Sciences.” Kenzie breathed out the words before she even realized what she was saying--Duncan paused, and she couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but she saw the coiled movement of his hand as it came down to his knee in thought.

“Kenzie. That’s perfect.”

“Thank you, Mr. Shepherd, I expect to be well paid. And tip your waitress.”

Duncan laughed; it was a real laugh, genuine and from the gut, from the well of his heart, and Kenzie’s own heart clenched to watch him; he’s so beautiful and we are so fucking happy when we’re together, I’ve never felt like this with anyone, and we are going to do so many wonderful things, and I could just die my heart is so full---of him, and everything we’ve already shared with each other, and everything we will share--the days ahead will be so full and no matter what, I know we’ll get through them, we’ll be together through all of it, I can feel it, like he wrapped a blanket around me in the cold, soothed me with coolness in the heat. My special one. My Duncan. Duncan leaned across the cutting board and pulled her against him; his mouth was sweet with rose and pear and grape and she ran her tongue for a moment against his teeth and he groaned happily into her.

“I’m gonna go fucking jump in the ocean,” Kenzie said. “It’s fucking hot out, baby.”

“Not if I catch you first.”

Kenzie hopped up to get away from him; Duncan reached out and the tips of his fingers brushed her ankle; she squealed and took off across the sand, glancing behind her as he came after her, discarding his shirt to the ground--Kenzie waded knee-deep into the waves, yelping as she felt his arms come around her, his lips pressing down into her neck, tickling her skin and making her writhe in his grasp. “Kiss me, baby, kiss me, Kenzie,” he pleaded, and she did, her sea-damp hands coming into his hair and pressing him into her, and then she pushed him harshly and he stumbled back into the water, falling under a wave. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna get you for that,” he sputtered, grinning and coughing. Kenzie screamed in facetious fear, grinning back at him as he caught up with her and dunked her under the next wave--she came up spitting the salty sting from her lips, her hair soaked down her back now, and moved out into the water away from him, kicking off to swim out a little; swim so he’d follow her, and he did; he did and his lips crushed into hers as they floated in the sunlight, the taste of the ocean on his mouth, and his hands finding her under the water, finding her body and pulling her into him, his eyes on her, reflecting the water, making her shiver at their beauty; she grinned at him and pressed her fingers into his torso, tickling, and he kicked away in the water, laughing again, and then she wrapped her arms around his neck as they trod the waves beneath and rained kisses into him, his sea-soaked hair and his eyelids and his nose and his mouth, reaching up to taste her in turn. Icarus, fallen into the sea to be with me. Poseidon, come up from beneath the depths to be with me. Apollo flown down from the sun, to be with me. Ares paused from his rage, turned to me. Dionysus, grapes on his breath, kissing me…my Hades, my beloved, pulled from the dark, warm in my arms, here on earth, with me. With me.

------

Kenzie sat cross-legged on the beach blanket, Jane Eyre open on her lap (she was about halfway through--she’d read it before but it had been years since she revisited it--Jane was about to find out about Rochester’s mad wife in the attic, and Kenzie imagined, wildly, that Duncan kept his own secret mad wife in a closet hidden in the penthouse somewhere), one of the big towels tucked around her back from where she’d used it to dry off, slathering her limbs in sunscreen, her gold-rimmed sunglasses at her eyes, her straw hat with the black ribbon on her head, her hair, now drying in the sun, blowing in salty, golden strands around her face. They’d cleared the food away from the blanket but the wine glasses still there, Kenzie’s tucked between her legs, a little left in the bottom, Duncan’s balancing in the sand, empty, one of the Coronas, half-drunk with a wedge of lime floating in it, beside it. He laid next to her, his pool-dappled button-down under his head, his eyes closed against the afternoon brightness; Kenzie gazed at him as she rubbed sunscreen on her thighs and the back of her neck (he’d rubbed some on his chest and shoulders and she had gently smoothed some over his face a few minutes ago, admiring his unblemished skin and the chiseled beauty of his features as he lay still, obediently); his fingers were resting on the toes of her right foot, crooked under her knee, and she couldn’t tell if he was awake or asleep.

His hair had dried in luxuriant curls, and it seemed lighter in the direct sunlight; almost golden like hers. She could see the light dusting of sand that had brushed into the side of his cheek, into his stubble, along the curve of his jaw--Kenzie almost felt like crying to look at him this way, in this angelic sweetness.  She pulled her phone out of her beach bag and opened Instagram, checking that the sound was off; I’ll take this one in secret, she thought, but I want everyone to know too, baby, I want everyone to know that you’re mine, an angel in my arms every night. She brought the phone down close to his cheek; Duncan didn’t stir, and she could see the small rise and fall of his belly in the quiet breeze. She brought the photo back up to her eyes; just his cheeks and the corner of his eyelashes, grains of sand, and the curls of his hair. He really does look like an angel. She posted the photo with three emojis: the angel, the heart pierced by an arrow, and the celestial sun. Duncan stirred a little, and Kenzie realized he really had drifted off to sleep, his face turning toward her, his other hand tucking over his eyes, the hand on her foot gripping tighter, as if in his half-sleep he worried she would leave. She leaned down and couldn’t resist the urge to press her lips into his cheek; it was salty and gritty with sand, but it still smelled like him; woodsy musk, sandalwood, jasmine soap, and that lingering scent underneath, the smell that was him, a smell without a name or description. Just him.

Kenzie glanced at the time; it was a little past 3, and there was still time to drift in this moment, his hand warm on her foot, the sun drying their sea-soaked skin. She thought let him sleep, drinking off the rest of the wine in her glass, topping it off with more from the bottle nearby quietly so as not to wake him, and went back to Jane Eyre. 

------

It was about half an hour later when Duncan stirred awake; Kenzie was on the last page of her chapter, munching on one of the tiny cucumbers they’d packed, and she looked up at him, her hand coming across to his hair, gently.

“Kenz, I had a dream too,” he murmured, pressing his fingers into the corner of his eye, rubbing it as she stroked his salt-kissed curls. She imagined him doing the same thing as a little child, felt sure it was something he had done his whole life (like the tick he has when he’s nervous, rubbing against his jaw and the bottom of his lip).

“Oh yeah? What was it about?”

“I was in pain...terrible pain. I think I was dying. I was on the ground and I couldn’t get up--I couldn’t feel my legs. I was talking to my grandmother..she looked different than I remember her, though, her hair was up, and Adelaide usually wore her hair down...I was begging her to take me into the house...I don’t know what house. I don’t know what I meant. I said, I can be with you forever. And she said...she said...go to hell. I couldn’t believe that. And then she left me there, in terrible pain.”

“Oh, baby, what an awful dream. It was just a dream, though. That never happened.”

“But--Kenzie. After she left. You were there. You leaned over me, your face full of compassion for me. You looked...different, but the same. Your hair was darker and down around your shoulders, a little bit shorter. You were all in black lace, but you had little gold jewelry--the kind you wear for real. And you leaned over me and you were soothing me. But you called me a different name. You called me Michael. And then...then I woke up.” As Duncan spoke he closed his eyes, as if to remember the images from the dream, and his hand came up to the crook of her legs where they were crossed. She grasped his fingers and kept her other hand in his hair, soothing through it.

“I’ll always be here for you, baby,” she whispered. “As long as I’m alive I will. I love you. You’re the only one for me.”

“Kenzie,” he opened his eyes and stared at her; they were clear despite his sleep. “You’re the only one for me, too. And I know that...I know it. As absolutely as I know the sun is going to rise in the morning and set the evening. As absolutely as a tide going in and out, or thunder coming after lightning…”

“That’s lovely, baby.”

“Still, all the same, I know it, Kenzie.”

She grasped his fingers; Duncan moved his head into her lap, and Kenzie pressed her legs closer together to cradle his cheek. “I wish today could last longer,” she said down to him, and he nodded against her, replying. “Soon we’ll go to the cabin and we’ll have days together, days to be alone together--I’ll show you the woods and we’ll make a bonfire, we’ll drink wine and fuck and watch the stars, baby.”

“Oh, Duncan. That sounds so wonderful.”

“I can’t wait, baby. I can’t wait to really get away with you for awhile.Today has just made me want it even more. This week is going to be so long. And the Gala is on Friday. My Uncle’s going to be there, too. If you think my mother is bad...just wait. And he’s dying. So he’s really his best self these days.”

“I’m not afraid of him either, Duncan.”

He pushed himself up on one arm, up into the crook of her neck; “I don’t doubt it,” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful and so brave and I love you so much. You’re my moonlight, baby, my Persephone, breathing life back into me when I thought I was dead...”

Kenzie could feel the waves of emotion coming off him, like an endless tide of warm shadow; could feel the confusion still huddled in the lining of his thoughts from the dream he’d had while he slept, and she felt drunk off it, drunk on him and the closeness of him, not just his body, but what was inside. Duncan looked at her for another long moment, pushing himself further up to sit facing her; his hand came against her cheek. He didn’t speak, but she felt the waves grow stronger for a moment; felt his desire to soothe her in all things, to protect her and care for her for the rest of her life, for as long as she would let him--it was like he was pressing his lips against the deepest part of her, and it was so intimate it made her want to scream in its intensity, made her want to scream in the ecstasy of the feeling of him touching the lining of her hidden self; a part of her no one had ever touched and she hadn’t even really been sure was there. But she could feel his invisible fingers on it, and it shattered her. She turned her face away from him, tears immediately coursing down her cheeks in a cascade of overwhelmed emotion. Duncan leaned towards her--”Don’t cry, baby, please don’t cry.”

“I’m crying because...I’m happy. Baby. I’m so happy. So happy, but the happiness wants to tear me to pieces, it wants to rip me apart. It’s so much; it’s so big. It’s like all of the world is inside it. When I look at you, it’s like I see the world too. The universe. Everything.”

“I know. I know.”

She shuddered; the tears wouldn’t stop now. Duncan pulled her against him and she let a sob fall into his bare skin; he held her that way for a little while, his hands in her hair as she cried, her tears falling along his arm, the sound of the surf and the seagulls in their ears, and Kenzie couldn’t be sure, but she thought maybe he cried a little too, cried so his tears fell against her hair and into the sand, though he didn’t make a sound.

------

Soon it would be time to go. Kenzie was putting her things away in her beach bag, a nostalgic melancholy already falling into her mood--work tomorrow, she thought, and the magick of this weekend over, at least, for now...I guess I shouldn’t be too sad, the magick that is between Duncan and I grows stronger every day. But the world keeps trying to get between us, doesn’t it. Well, I won’t let it.

She glanced up to where Duncan was sitting, his back toward the beach house, his face toward the ocean--he had his round Yves sunglasses and his shirt on again, and his expression was as melancholy as she felt; his arms were crooked around his knees, hair on his forehead, blown by the breeze over the sea, and his lips were almost closed, open tinily, almost imperceptibly, wistful. The sun was hanging low in the sky now, scudding behind some wisps of cloud that had appeared, throwing very small shadows over him. She grasped her phone where it lay near her bag--lifted it, and snapped the photo of him--a photo she would come to love fiercely in time, though she didn’t know it now. She added a black and white filter and was struck by the romanticism of it. Hades comes to earth, she typed, and spends a day in the sun with his Persephone. @duncanshepherd my heart belongs to you. She hit Share. He looked over at her, as if re-emerging from a dream; his eyes were concealed behind the sunglasses, and his thoughts were imperceptible to her right now.

“Ready to go, baby?” She asked, softly. He sighed a little and cocked his head to her. She cocked hers too, half-mocking, smiling at him coyly from where she kneeled in her bathing suit and sun hat. His melancholia seemed to lift at that; affection washed into his cheeks, and he smiled back.

“Today was perfect, Kenzie, wasn’t it.”

“Yes, Duncan. Today was perfect. I will never forget it.”

“Me either.”

-------

Pilar welcomed them, now sun-kissed and smelling of sea salt and sand, back into the jet with her deeply friendly smile--she gave Kenzie a knowing look as she took the picnic basket from Kenzie’s hands, and Kenzie wondered if Duncan had left any marks on her neck that she hadn’t noticed. Or maybe I just look really fucking happy, because I am, she thought. Duncan asked Pilar for another gin and tonic, and Kenzie asked her for a vodka tonic--after Pat’s cordial voice came over the speaker again to tell them they could take their seatbelts off, she brought the ice cold plastic tumblers to them, setting them gently on the tray in front of Duncan--Kenzie had pressed her earbuds in, her head on his shoulder, fighting the urge to sleep as her eyes fluttered closed. “So much sun makes you sleepy, reina,” Pilar commented, nodding to her affectionately. Kenzie nodded and smiled at her--she heard Duncan thank Pilar quietly--then a ethereal masculine voice with a lively guitar floated through her earbuds, blocking the rest of their conversation from her hearing...

Honey, this club here is stuck up / dinner and diatribes

I knew it from the first look of / the look of mischief in your eyes

Your friends are a fate that befell me / head is the talking type

I'd suffer Hell if you'd tell me / what you'd do to me tonight

Pilar walked away from Duncan, glancing at her affectionately again, her dark eyes skirting between them with that admiring glint. Like a prince and a princess. The song continued in Kenzie’s ears, lilting, choir-like chanting and clapping resonating.

That's the kind of love I've been dreaming of

Her eyes fell over Duncan, who was looking down at his phone. Instagram. He was on Kenzie’s profile and she blushed to see he’d noticed the two pictures she’d taken of him when he wasn’t looking. He expression was surprised, then shy, then he turned his face to her, eyebrows raised, and held up the one of him sleeping, sand on his cheek. What’s this, he mouthed, his eyes dancing. She smiled at him, timidly.

That’s the kind of love I’ve been dreaming of

He looked back down for a moment, going to the other one, of him staring out at the ocean in his dark glasses, a look of melancholy on his face. He held that one up to her too--his smile now seeped in emotion.

Now that the evening is slowing / Now that the end's in sight

Honey, it's easier knowing / What you'd do to me tonight

I love you, he mouthed to her.

I love you too, she mouthed back. Then he kissed her, and Kenzie closed her eyes, the music and the evening-soft touch of his mouth drifting into her, and she thought Eros carried Psyche into the clouds, again.

That’s the kind of love I’ve been dreaming of

That’s the kind of love I’ve been dreaming of

[elejah-wonderland]

Always/11

Fanfiction

Part 11

Elijah Mikaelson x reader/Elena Gilbert

ft. Klaroline 

AU TVD/TO story

a/n: and so another story is wrapping up. I thought I write an extra  happy chapter for all the characters. They all suffered a lot in this story.

 Thanks so much for reading. I really hope you have enjoyed it. xoxo

Spring is in the air and I feel all romantic. LOL 

warning: fluff and the Mikaelson family happiness 

tags @rissyrapp20 @dendrite-lover @cassienoble2000 @captainshurley @goddessofthunder112 @elejahforever @idkhaylijah @hides2000

__________________

A month later

Elijah and Y/N/E laid in bed looking at the first baby scan-

"Tiny little fusion of you and me"- Y/N/E said.

"Our little sweetheart"- Elijah said.

"I feel happy - and maybe it's crazy to think this way but I feel like him or her we lost sent us this baby"- -Y/N/E said tearing up.

"Him or her will always be in our hearts'- Elijah said.

"Yes, always, now dancing with the angels."- Y/N/E said then turning to Elijah looking at him seriously-

"Last night- I went through one of my drawers in the walk-in and found this key"

Y/N/E got up and now showed Elijah the unusual key.

"This is from a deposit box"- Elijah said.

"Do I have a deposit box? Probably, ha? Can't remember. You know that still have bits missing in my head"- Y/N/E continued-"but why would I keep it in a drawer full of sports socks? Completely at the back of it?"

"I really don't know"- Elijah then said-"it really doesn't makes sense-"

"We can find out, can't we?"- Y/N/E said.

"Of course. I will get one of my friends tell me what bank it is"- Elijah took the key.

"Ok. Do that first thing tomorrow, now kiss me - us- and let's get some sleep. Rebekah is coming over and we are going through the whole ideas  she has done for the vows-renewal ceremony"

"Good luck"- Elijah joked a little bit.

"I know."- Y/N/E smiled kissing him.

Flashback

A week or so previously

Rebekah met Y/N/E for lunch

"Elijah told me that you two are renewing your vows. How come I didn't get this from you?"- Rebekah shot at Y/N/E as she sat down at the table.

"Because- ahm- we don't want anything big- just family"- Y/N/E to be diplomatic and cursed Elijah a tiny little bit for having slipped it to his sister.

"Oh no. Last time you eloped. This time you have to give us a bit more."

"Ok. Semi-big then, but really just family and closest friends. Deal?"- Y/N/E said.

"Hm-"- Rebekah let out and she knew that Y/N/E made sense-" we have a deal!"

"Anyway you'll get to have a grand thing yourself"- Y/N/E then said.

"What? Me? Please, like that is ever going to happen-"- Rebekah sighed a bit.

"I thought that things between Stefan and you are really going good."

"They are- but we are like thousand years from a proposal. Not everyone is like you and Elijah."

"I've seen the way he looks at you. He is a keeper"- Y/N/E said.

"Really- he looks at me dreamy?"- Rebekah asked as if she was a fifteen year old girl not really sure if her boyfriend was that into her.

"Duh"- Y/N/E replied.

"You're not just telling me to make me feel better"- Rebekah carried on with her insecurities. She was only like that when love was the topic.

"Please! I am serious about stuff like that. Now, show me what you got."

"Right."- Rebekah said filled with special energy-"you have got to have a designer dress. Here are some suggestions. Don't look at me like that. It will be three months after you give birth. You will fit in easily with all the yoga you are doing and healthy food you're eating" **** After Kol was released from the hospital, he and Sophie moved in with his father and mother, as he still had not recovered fully. Everyone was proud of his decision even though they have scolded him a bit since it was a dangerous thing. Jeremy's killers were charged and they had enough evidence to put them away for a long time. Mikael and Esther, as well as the others were ecstatic to find out that there was another Mikaelson baby on the way. 

The Mikaelsons had officially invited the Gilberts to a dinner to something that resembled a miniture peace conference that had Y/N/E and Elijah as mediators and the uniting force with a little help of their now joint therapist Camille. Another huge revelation came a day before the dinner as Miranda needed Y/N/E to know that she was her and Greyson's adoptive child. Camille found that Y/N/E had the strength to face all and it was important as the process of putting the past where it belonged.

"We don't know who your father was."- Miranda said-"I couldn't get pregnant and so we decided to adopt. The only thing we knew was that your mother was a sixteen year old girl, who was a runaway."

Y/N/E would lie if she said that it didn't matter, but with Elijah by her side and Camille's excellent guidance, she had all the support to process everything. And she poured a lot of her 'processing stuff' into her art, which was also a great theraputic vessel.

She had also changed the location of her attelier. Only a block away from their home, an celler apartment was transformed into her attelier. As Elijah asked what it was going to be she only said that she was inspired by Alice's adventures.

*** The last puzzle to solve was the key of a deposit box.

Flashback

A few days before Jeremy's death

Y/N/E rang Jeremy to come to her house to talk. It was her zillionth attempt to get through him even though she knew that she might not succeed. She prepared lunch for them.

"Hey sis, something really smells good, but will it taste good"- Jeremy snarked a bit as he got in.

"Stuffed tomatoes- the way you like them"- Y/N/E replied.

"Right. What is this about?"- Jeremy asked as they got in the kitchen.

"Does it have to be about anything? I haven't seen you properly in ages. I thought I'd see you at mom and dad's anniversary party- but you bailed. Mom was really sad"

"Please- with all those hypocrites hanging about I really was not in the mood. I got them a present and saw them two days after  - and no biggy"- Jeremy said.

"But still. Anyway, I need to  finish the sauce. Can you pass the wine - the south- american merlot."

"Ok. I need to swing to the bathroom"- Jeremy said,  got the wine and went out the kitchen. But, before the bathroom he went to Y/N/E’s walk-in wardrobe and hid the key in the drawer.

At the bank as they finally found out what deposit box it was for, they also found out it was Jeremy's.  After getting the approval to open the deposit box they found large amounts of money.

Y/N/E looked at it as if hypnotized, at first not saying anything. Elijah was fuming inside of him, but had to keep his cool as he didn't want to upset Y/N/E further.

"You know - huh- I can't believe it. Why? Huh- why was he like that? We have done nothing but love him. He had everything. Good education. A good beginning. And he just didn't care about anything or anyone"- and Y/N/E threw the box full of the dirty money up in the air, and the dollar bills flew all over the place.

Elijah jumped immediately down to her as she was sitting in the chair gently taking her by the arms- "Darling, look at me."

Y/N/E was crying-" Why?"- she muttered.

"There is no plausible answer. Some people get consumed with the darkness and - just can't get out of it - unfortunately. "

Y/N/E knew it. She tried to understand it so many times and had always hit the dead end. Elijah gave her a comforting hug.

At home Y/N/E wrote in her diary-

"Walking through Wonderland sometimes feels like you will get squashed by a giant pumpkin or open a door and slip into abyss and think you will never stop falling and hit something hard, but then you have a cat appear out of the woods bandiging your wound. There are days of colorful charades and dreamy Balls or at the turn of the clock they become a place of the darkest horror as everyone turns into zombies or leeching vampires. And then the clock strikes twelve and a prince grabs your hand or in my case a very handsome viking and kisses me like noone before making my heart accelerate to cloud eleven. Why eleven, I don't know. But I bet there is cloud eleven. Just like magic I am flying free.

And no matter what the weather we can do it better, with you and me together forever and ever... with clear heart and courage. Always."

××× In the weeks tha followed Y/N/E had her first exhibition after the accident,  She called it Walking through Wonderland. 

__________

Three months later

"Rebekah, can you please pick the cake up and take to the penthouse. I am still at the gallery. I've just spoken to him and he is mad that he had to stay longer at work."- Y/N/E said to her sister-in-law.

"I can't believe we made my father in on the whole surprise party thing. So, Elijah still thinks we are just meeting for drinks?"- Rebekah said.

"Yeah. I will then call him and say that I need picking up from the house. "- Y/N/E said-"I got to go- see you there in an hour." 

Flashback 

Couple of weeks ago

Rebekah met Y/N/E in her studio- "What's so urgent? Don't tell me you scraping the whole thing- cos I will not let you. The designer dresses are ordered"

"I called you about something else"- Y/N/E said-"I want to do something special for Elijah's birthday. He doesn't want anything particular. But I want to do something a little bit particular. It is his 40th."

"You want to do a surprise party!"- Rebekah said.

"Yeah, let's. He has been so wonderful throughout it all. I want to make it memorable.  Let's do his favourite food, his favourite everything, music, cheese-cake."

"You-"- Rebekah added.

Y/N/E chuckled a bit to the comment-"so, will you help me?"

"What are you talking about, of course, I will help you, duh! My company just won best party organizers of the decade!"

"I know, but you got so much work plus Stefan"- Y/N/E said.

"Talk about Stefan, I need to cancel our trip to New Orleans"

"Why? Not because of this? Don't."

"He will understand. I am helping a pregnant woman."- Rebekah said.

"No. This is your week away with a guy that you will marry- don't. I will manage."

"What do you mean - marry? Do you know something?"

"Oh, shoot"- Y/N/E said spoiling the surprise Stefan had installed for Rebekah.

"He is going to propose?"- Rebekah was out of her breath.

"Well, Bonnie heard him talk to Damon about - how you're the one!"- Y/N/E tried to wriggle her way out of it.

"But that doesn't mean he is going to propose? It's mad anyway, we've been together three months! This can't be right!"

"It is!"- Y/N/E said-"ok, Bonnie said he got a ring. So, don't go spoiling it. And act surprised."

Y/N/E finally caved in.

"Really?"- Rebekah was completely taken.

"Promise to be surprised"- Y/N/E said.

Days that followed, Rebekah was exercising patience, but it was the hardest thing to do. She even succumbed to look into the chest of drawers one night she stayed over at Stefan's while he was in the shower. but she didn't find it.

A day before the trip as she had breakfast with Y/N/E and Elijah, her brother asked her why she was on edge joking -

"Taking a whole week of work- how will you survive?"

"It's not that."- Rebekah blasted.

Elijah was surprised at her explosive reaction -" Am I missing something here? You are going on a romantic get-away and it's like you're going for torture?"

Rebekah sighed now telling him about Stefan's probable proposal.

"Oh?"- Elijah looked at Y/N/E who nodded and then told him how the whole probable thing came about.

"And you're a wreck cos you don't want to marry him?"- Elijah was confused.

"I do. I just can't wait for the thing happening- the proposal, I mean. And what if he doesn't do it there. You shouldn't have told me"- Rebekah said getting up-"got to go. Later-"

Rebekah left and Elijah remarked- "I've never seen her so stressed- and this is supposed to be about a good thing?"

"She is really in love with him. And yeah, I shouldn't have told her anything. It just slipped. Bonnie and I just talked and we got to the topic of true love and how she and Damon started off bickering when they met in college and turned to be OTL and Stefan could not find anyone, going from one relationship to another, just like Rebekah."

"I am glad for Rebekah. Yeah, she is really in love. Acting like a teenager. What's OTL?"- Elijah now asked .

"One true love"- Elena explained-"you're my OTL"- she came around the hub to him and kissed him. "You're my OTL, too"- Elijah said caressing her hair as he now kissed her back.

And Stefan did propose. Rebekah was bursting with happiness sending a photo to everyone in the family. 

___                       

Y/N/E got to the apartment carrying a little box. Everyone had already been there. Except for Elijah and his father.

As she got to the living room, she saw Rebekah telling everyone where they should stand.

Y/N/E greeted her guests putting her present on the sideboard.

Rebekah now turned to her-

"Ah, you're here. Ok. Will you go and change? I will help you. Father just called and they will soon be on their way"- Rebekah said to Y/N/E, who nodded and they went up to her walk-in together.

As she had a quick shower and changed, she made a call to Elijah.

"Hey, baby-" -Y/N/E said-"I just got in, and I need to change. Could you please come and get me. I don't really want to get a taxi"

Elijah would never refuse her, especially now that she was pregnant. And so they were on their way to the apartment.

To make the ruse complete, Mikael said he would wait for them in the car.

Elijah went up and got into the apartment.

"Y/N/E?"- he called  putting his bag on the chair and heard her say -"living room"

Elijah walked in and everyone shouted -"Happy birthday" - together with Y/N/E, who walked over to him smiling happily.

He was taken aback just looking at everyone wide-eyed. Mikael was there then as well.

"Happy birthday!"- Y/N/E said once again.

"Wow- I- "

Rebekah now passed on a glass of champagne to him and a non-alcoholic cocktail to Sophie and Y/N/E then let her take center stage.

Y/N/E now stood in front of Elijah, her gleaming eyes looking at him, watering a little-

"Elijah - my love - you have been there for all of us at one time or the other and you have been giving and giving and we wanted- I wanted you to know that you are so appreciated and loved- so just wanted to do something special - to always remember"

They all raised a glass to him.

"What can I say- thank you- so much. This is great- really is"

Y/N/E then gave him the gift. He unwrapped it and there was a watch with the engraving 

                       He embraced her dearly and kissed her.

Then there was cake cutting, buffet, more cocktails, music and dance.

I can hear her heartbeat for a thousand miles And the heavens open every time she smiles When I come to her That's where I belong

She gives me love love love Crazy love 

_____________

Time passed by, as it does, and they all continued with their lives in a positive way, never to forget the difficulties of the past supporting one another as best as they could.

This whole ordeal Y/N/E, Elijah, Kol went through made them appreciate so much more what they had, the people that were around them, old friends and new, especially their loved ones.

"So, what are you doing today?"- Elijah asked his wife as he brought the breakfast at the terrace where Y/N/E tried to make herself comfortable on the lounge sofa. She was now in her ninth month and her delivery date was just a few days ahead. Sophie was no better. Kol was as much as Elijah, a dotting father-to-be, fulfilling any craving Sophie had.

"Rebekah, Sophie, Bonnie and Caroline are coming over for late lunch and the double baby shower. There is nothing much I can do. My feet are swollen, my back hurts, I am big as a whale. I need a distraction."

"I thought you will not do the baby shower till after the baby comes-"- Elijah said helping Y/N/E sit more comfortably.

"I need something happening- so I told Rebekah yes to the baby shower and only the six of us. We will make a huge party for both our and Kolphie’s baby after."- Y/N/E explained.

"You are really getting into the party thing-"- Elijah remarked.

"Yeah- after everything we've all been through- why not? Why shouldn't we party? Let's celebrate life"

"You're right"- Elijah said smiling at her and now offered to give her a foot massage.

"Oh, thank you"- Y/N/E said happily-"I knew now why I married you"

"Now you know?"- Elijah teased her a little.

"You are the best foot massager  in the world"- Y/N/E said-"I mean- it is your hands that are just -oh- this soo gooood"

Elijah was happy seeing her relaxing. His soul whispered a little thanks  to the Universe for giving him precious moments like these, moments that at one time he thought would might never be.

"Did I tell you lately how happy I am?"- Elijah then said.

"No. But you don't have to tell me"- Y/N/E said-"I see it. Feel it"

"Well, I think I should say it anyway. "

"Of course, you should. We deserve a little happy"- Y/N/E remarked.

"We do, don't we?"

The way he said underlined a little bit of scared to be really happy and Y/N/E now reached to him with stretching his hand out to him to come closer to her.

Elijah immediately moved to assist her as he thought she needed him to help her get up or something and she pulled him towards her pouting a little, which meant she wanted  a kiss. And he kissed her dearly.  

"It will all be fine"- she said to him-" we deserve more than just a little happy."

He nodded and now kissed her again. 

"Anyone home?"- they heard Rebekah shout out all of a sudden.

They both moved as if they were caught in an inappropriate moment with Elijah shouting back that they are up on the terrace. 

"She has to return the key"- Elijah then said and Y/N/E nodded saying in a whisper- "You will tell her!"

Elijah made a face like can you not do it?- and Y/N/E shook her head saying in a very low voice- "You will have to- "

What it was they both felt like they would be hurting her feelings, as Rebekah has been there for both of them whenever they needed her and she had this exclusive right to come and go as she pleased. 

"Hi. Ok. I know I am early, but I got here with all the stuff ready and well, wanted to sit down with you, too for a little chat."

Both Y/N/E and Elijah knew that there was some kind of drama coming out and they were not wrong-

"Right. I will say it - Stefan has asked me to move in with him"

"And that is bad because?"- Elijah reacted immediately.

Rebekah now sighed-"It is bad because- well- I love my place- and- you know-"- Rebekah now looked at Y/N/E for a comment and support.

"And you don't like his place? And here goes tricky- how to tell him you want to but not really, but he should move into your place!"- Y/N/E said and Elijah was now looking at both of them like- I don't see a problem or drama here.

"You wouldn't get it anyway"- Rebekah shot at her brother-"you two never had this problem- you got together- got engaged- eloped and got to - well- you started living here like it was a normal thing."

"It was easy"- Y/N/E said-"Elijah's bachelor pad was too bachelor and had loads of bachelor history- plus- I never brought anyone here, except for him."

"You're not making it easier"- Rebekah moaned.

"You will either have to tell him you don't wanna move with him or ask him to move in with you!"- Elijah then said.

"What if he says no and then everything gets awkward and I lose him?"- Rebekah went on.

This was a cue for Elijah to leave as he knew Rebekah was going to grind about this particular thing forever.

He kissed Y/N/E goodbye and told his sister that she should not overthink too much.

"He doesn't get anything"- Rebekah remarked as Elijah walked away.

"Ok. Do you want to hear what I think"- Y/N/E then said.

"Yes. Shoot"- Rebekah said.

Y/N/E then laid out her thoughts in a very diplomatic way. 

__

Elsewhere, Caroline and Klaus were on the phone to one another as Caroline slipped very early out of his apartment as she had to go to her place to change and then to the studio to meet the new co-anchor and talk about how they would do the show.

"I think it's time you brought some stuff over to my apartment"- Klaus said.

"How romantic"- Caroline remarked.

"I thought you were a very pragmatic person. You told me to do any extravagant- no crazy gifts. I am just being practical. How many times did you have to get up at five to get to go to your place etc"- Klaus retorted.

"I don't know how we always wind up in your place, so, I have no other choice"

"Let's make a choice then"- Klaus said.

"What would that be?"- Caroline asked chuckling a bit.

"Marry me and everything is solved."- Klaus said.

"What did you just say?"- Caroline was stunned.

"What part?"- Klaus played innocent.

"The marry me part!"- Caroline said.

"Ah, that. Yes. Marry me"- he said.

"You are not serious?"

"I am very serious."- Klaus said and by the tone of his voice it was clear to Caroline that he really meant it.

She went quiet- in her head a little trailer rushed through beginning with their first meeting and to that very phone call.    

"Caroline?"- she could hear Klaus now on the other line bringing her back to reality- and she replied-

"I- did you have to ask me over the phone?"- Caroline was miffed.

Klaus now knew that he had messed up. But, as always knew way out of it- "Well- you hate all OTT stuff, so I thought if I do it in a casual way - this 8s the way to go"

"Seriously?"- Caroline said slightly annoyed.

"No"- Klaus admitted-"it just came out"

"It came out?"

"Yes. I had no plan, but I want to marry you. You are the one for me, my southern belle. You have been from day one!"

Caroline was left speechless, and that was a rare thing.

"I have to go. I'll see you later"- Caroline eventually said and hang up.

_____________________________________

[thedispatched]

It’s really sad and honestly embarrassing as fuck at the infighting within a group. Watching this unfold you can see how much it was never about loving wayv as a group but seriously just loving one member. Some of these “fans” need to stop lying to themselves that you care about what happens to the group and that sm needs to think about the others. Not it’s more of a you just care about what happens to your favorite who may not have been getting that attention.

I have a lot running through my head but let me just say this. They don’t realize and I wish solo stans understand that just because your favorites sell more albums does not mean they are the most popular. No lie I’m looking at the “top” two members right now who’s stans keep bringing up numbers. It just means your fandom/people might have more money access than everyone else lol like I don’t care but that’s the damn truth. I have a favorite member but I can’t afford to buy albums because I have bills to pay and I need food on my table lol and I’m not knocking people who buy those precious albums or spend their money. I’m knocking on this idea that “we can buy more and spend more therefore we are the most popular” idea. It’s like just because you’re the loudest doesn’t mean you’re the smartest or correct!!!

And because you are a fan of member x doesn’t mean you have join the fanbar/fan clubs. (If I’m not wrong cause when I reading about these fanbase changing names cause of the regulations… a lot of them buy from fanbars because of the location of where they live and how shipping and delivery is very difficult so buying from fanbars make it easier for them to get an album.) Not everyone joins or has money to donate to some of these (ridiculous) projects. Also let’s not also forget that some people buying albums from these places are buying multiples just to get those photocards. Mass buying like that shows you have more money to spend lol And when people measure the amount of money that was spent on these video fansigns to reiterate that their fav is more popular with more selling power… it shows the exact same thing. It’s all about money. I would love to talk to my favorite member in a video chat but that costs thousands and I don’t have thousands of dollars to spend so freely lol It’s funny and also incredibly sad and frustrating when you point it out to some of these solo stans they get so defensive that numbers speak louder than everything else.

Oh and I love seeing the complaints that sm just sees them as a dollar sign and how to get money because that is all sm care about. These solo stans are so dumb because you’re treating them the same freaking way! They don’t realize that when they claim that their favorite or this or that fanbar sold more they see them as just a dollar sign too. They subconsciously (?) look at them the exact same way the company does… that they are valuable because they make the more money. Like they may make you that money within the fandom but that doesn’t equate to making money or getting that attention and recognition outside of the fandom. Common sense be out that door I don’t know how some of them survive outside of fandom universe.

I’m sorta new to the nct world… got into them cause of nct 2020 but even seeing the other units fighting too lately about selling power and my unit sold more or my favorite member sold more than yours or we have less versions of yours but sold more… people need to stop. How does it come across to other fandoms when the people within a fandom can’t even get along or have a discussion without yelling and insulting each other?! Combining with another obnoxious fandom who are loud about their own (manipulative) selling power why can’t y’all just stfu, listen to the music, smile when they look nice and watch them perform?!

The worst enemies are the people who are right next to you. 😒

solo stans tend to act like that from what i've seen, doesn't really matter the group lol. i never understood how/why solo stans act so ignorant (if that's the right word). obviously not all solo stans act like this, but a lot do.

i agree with you on the whole money thing. i always look more towards the general public than fandoms in these types of things. not even just solos, but as a group, if i wanna know how popular they are i'm looking at the general public not whatever their fandom contributed to (this includes streams/views).

it's one of the reasons why i believe a lot of idols wouldn't make it super big as a soloist without their fandom.

but i guess there is a reason why fandom power is such a big thing 🤷‍♀️

honestly, i'm jealous at how much these fans can spend on their faves. i wish i could do that lol. but they make up for those like us who can't afford it.

i've always seen it more as the company sees them as $$ while fans see them as a pretty face to fantasize about, after all is that what they're also marketed to be/do? they feed into a daydream and people love it. the only difference is that some know how to separate reality from daydreams and some don't and take it too far.

but yes, everything does always end up being about money. it's business.

"Like they may make you that money within the fandom but that doesn’t equate to making money or getting that attention and recognition outside of the fandom." couldn't have said it better myself.

honestly, i became an nctzen in 2017 (i was pretty new to kpop also), but became a casual fan a year later because i couldn't stand the fandom at the time. after stanning multiple groups during this time, i didn't become a nctzen again (more so a wayzenni tho) until i experienced more fandom behavior and just decided to stay away from it and support them on my own how i want to. i'll call myself a fan, but i don't exactly participate in fandom culture like how others do. i'm here for the music and the group. i honestly don't care about awards and views and just the competition in general. i'm just here to have a good time 😭