#and was glad taylor stepped in to bring some actual quality

[silent-partner-412]

all signs right now are pointing to taylor swift’s reign as queen of the universe coming to an end and honestly? i think it might be for the best. discourse around her has been slowly but surely deteriorating in value since 2020 and once she’s back to being insulated among more or less just the people that care i think it’ll be so much more enjoyable for all of us.

[finelinevogue]

I am *respectfully* begging for a oneshot based off the song Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift🥺

okay let’s have a bit of fun with this mwhaha;

The moon was at full peak.

She was sat in the black canvas of a starry sky, shining down on the party below or at least so you thought she was. The flute glasses glowed under her brightness and bubbled with happiness. The pool was reflecting her image so beautifully. Everyone looked amazing in their gorgeous evening outfits of silk and lace, Gucci and Prada, chatting and laughing away as the night was close to striking midnight.

“Such a lovely party, Y/N.” Another guest thanked you, you not having the faintest idea of who they were.

You and Harry were hosting a dinner party in the back garden of his Malibu palace to celebrate his recent success over this past year. He’d had movie after movie, along with an album and a tour. He had done exceptionally well for himself, so he wanted to throw the most lavish party to celebrate with his friends and family that had helped him through it all. You had been in charge of organising food and a live band, Harry in charge of the guest list, Mitch in charge of decorations - bu really it had been Sarah - and Gemma in charge of the drinks; specifically champagne.

“I’m glad.” You smiled, as you poured yourself another glass of the bubbles. You felt the warmth of someones hand slide onto your exposed back, making you shiver with temptation and love.

“Have I told you just how beautiful you look this evening?” Harry spoke softly against your ear, kissing over the skin where his words had touched you.

He had been showing you off all night, always introducing you as ‘my beautiful girlfriend’ and keeping you close to him whenever he could. He would pull out his wallet and show people the picture he kept of you in there. It was one he’d taken of you laughing as you ran away from him on the beach. Even though the photo was black and white it was obvious how happy you were. He loved having you near and whenever someone said that they hadn’t seen you yet, he knew to go straight to the desserts table and find you shovelling yet another chocolate coated strawberry into your mouth not-so-gracefully.

“You have, but I won’t stop you if you want to do it again.” You replied, quite enjoying the flattering compliments. You’d dressed yourself in a silky evening gown that was in a deep red colour and Harry was having a hard time keeping his hands off of you. The front was v-cut, with the back completely open too, so it left your skin exposed for Harry to treat himself to. You turned around in his hold and pushed your body into his, making him hum in appreciation.

“I can’t stop thinking how much I want to kiss you.” He looked at your lips as he spoke, wanting to stain his own lips with the bold colour you’d painted on yours. You were so delicious and he wanted to devour every inch of you.

“Well what’s stopping you?” You reached a hand up to scrunch his curls under your fingers, the bracelets on your arm sliding down and jingling with another.

“Meet me upstairs in 5 minutes.” He replied, making you furrow your eyebrows in curiosity of what he was playing at.

“Should I ask why?”

“You shouldn’t, I don’t want to answer when my mum is standing just across the room.” He made you both chuckle, before leaning back from you to give you a quick once over. “Wow.” He breathed out, the biggest grin to his face. “5 minutes.”

And then he was gone.

You bit your lip as he rushed straight over to his mum and sister, who were both eagerly smiling at him. You couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little more at the sight. He was so innocent and full of love and happiness, you were so in awe of him and his beautiful qualities.

You did a quick scour of the room, making sure there were no unhappy faces, before heading in the direction of the bathroom to freshen up before visiting Harry. As you walked up the stairs you noticed a conversation between one of Harry’s cousins and one of his American friends, it sounded quite argumentative so you went to make sure everything was alright.

“You both okay?” You asked sweetly, your heels clicking on the floor as you approached them.

“God you’re just everywhere aren’t you?” The friend laughed, but you could tell she wasn’t laughing for a joke.

“I’m sorry?” You asked shocked at her tone, wondering what the problem was here.

“You’re so up in everyone else’s business always.”

“I don’t understand—”

“No of course you don’t. God, I understand why Harry finds you so annoying and clingy.”

“Kia—” The cousin gasped in shock of Kia’s words.

“No, you know i’m right Rachel just be quiet.” Kia shushed Rachel and brought her attention back to you.

“Harry thinks i’m clingy?” You asked, trying to understand what was really going on.

“That amongst lots of other things.”

“He would never. He loves me.” Your argued, slight tears in your eyes from letting her get to you like this. It was different than tabloids because you were actually hearing it from someone’s mouth, rather than an edited and faceless article. It stung so much more.

“And? Did you really think he would ever stick around for someone like you?” Kia laughed and then walked off, strutting her and her perfect body away from you and back to the main party area. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, trying to understand what her words truly meant to you.

“Y/N…” Rachel tried to console you, but you didn’t want her. You wanted Harry and yet now you didn’t.

“Do you think all that too?” You asked quietly, scared to hear an answer. You got your answer though when she spoke nothing and tilted her head down in shame. You understood. “Okay, thank you.” You quietly said and tried your best to smile, but you knew it didn’t reach your eyes.

You started walking towards the stairs, thinking what this all meant. You always had a back thought that Harry was too good for you, but you just never let yourself be put in the position to think upon that thought. Now though. Now, you were thinking.

Of course you would be naive enough to think that your happily ever after would be with the one man who’s heart could be taken by every other woman on the planet. Even your university teacher had once talked about having a crush on him and he had only been 21 at the time. You never thought here, when he was 27, would you possibly be the one to hold his heart. You did, though, but it wouldn’t be forever - Kia was right, Rachel was right. Everyone knew, but you were just too blinded by his love for you right now to think that it will just wilt away in the future. You were a rose, beautiful and in it’s prime as it flourished on the love it was fed, but after time when even the smallest amounts of love are forgotten to be given the rose wilts and so dies. It’s forgotten about in turn and left to degrade itself into oblivion.

You walked the stairs slowly, completely numb to your core. How could all of 5 minutes turn your emotions 180° and permanently? Your brain ran over the thoughts and little moments that you should’ve picked up on before. Like, when Harry forgot your anniversary and blowing it off that he had been at some work-do but he’d really been at Karlie Kloss’ birthday party. Like, when Harry stopped sending you postcards when he was on tour. Like, when he did that heart-rate test and saw a picture of Camille, looking utterly stunning, on the Victoria Secret runway his heart beat was incredibly high. Is that what he wanted 30 years from now? A model? Someone who was in the same business as him and could understand. You tried to, you really did, but it was starting to feel like maybe you weren’t to be enough.

Making your way down the hallway this way, you couldn’t help but feel like it was for the last time. There was this gut feeling that whatever Harry wanted you for, was going to make sure you were both reminded why you couldn’t be together.

“Damn. You’re a vision.” Harry whistled and you then spotted him at the end of the hallway, the moon shining in through the window and lighting him up like the pure angel he was. You weren’t worthy of his heart. You could only chuckle, not having the passion to make a flirty comment back. Not anymore.

“Listen Harry—” “Okay I have to ask you—” You both talked at the same time, bringing only a nervous chuckle to your face.

“You first.” He offered.

“No, you.” You offered back and he took it.

“Okay, alright.” He breathed in heavily. “You’re so beautiful.” He started, making you blush a little but it was dim up here so you weren’t worried about him noticing. Hopefully he didn’t see the sadness in your eyes either.

“Thank you.” You replied humbly.

“And I want to be able to wake up and tell you that every single day—”

“Harry…” You cut him off, your heart having just dropped so low to the floor.

“Yes?”

“Is this…”

“If you let me continue, yes.” He laughed, thinking that you were happy for him to continue. He was about to, but you cut him off.

“Don’t.” You said, a shake in your voice that was very apparent.

“Don’t— what?” He asked confused, stepping closer to you and only for you to step back. He stopped when he noticed that he would not be able to make distance to you, furrowing his eyebrows and looking hurt. Really hurt. Pain that you and you alone were causing him.

“Don’t ask me the question I think you’re about to.” You held of your hand to both stop him coming closer and to stop him talking. “Just don’t.”

“Baby… what?” Harry asked confused, tears visible in his eyes now. He just wanted to be near you and understand.

“Harry… Don’t make me say it.” You warned him.

“Say what?”

“Harry…”

“Y/N, say what?”

“No!” You shouted, loud enough that people downstairs might’ve heard. “No, Harry. No. I won’t marry you.” You started to cry and let the tears fall freely. You deserved to feel like your heart had been ripped from your chest, the same way you deserved to cry forever. You deserved nothing but pain to repay the damage you’d caused Harry.

“Wha—” He started, but you were too selfish to stick around and watch him crumble. You shot off down the hallway and down the stairs, making your way to the front door. Luckily you didn’t have to go through the masses of people to face the disappointing faces. Luckily no one had to see your cries, except Kia. She was stood by the front door, holding out your coat already as if she were waiting for you.

“Kia what—”

“You thought this evening was for Harry? No. It was for you.” She shoved your coat to you, making you stumble back from the force.

“What?”

“This was your surprise engagement party, with the surprise being the fucking engagement. Everyone knew about it apart from you. He had this plan of asking you and then coming downstairs to everyone yelling surprise. Seems like you fucked that up though.” She sneered at you and your sobs fell from your throat harder than before, your makeup ruining the prettiness of your face as it ran from all the salty tears.

“But you…”

“I what? Said a bunch of bullshit? I was only saying things you’ve heard a million times before. I was making sure you were the right person for our Harry. Seems like you’re far from it.” She chuckled, shaking her head in disappointment at you.

“You’re cruel.”

“No, Y/N, you are. You just did the one thing that I would’ve never done; break Harry’s heart.” She looked at you in disgust before opening the door for you. You gave her one last look, hate in her eyes for you, before you walked outside with the door slamming forcefully behind you. Your heart being left besides Harry’s broken one.

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

the last great american dynasty

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

Word Count: 4658

Warnings: maybe some swearing (don’t really remember), mentions of deaths, sadness, loneliness.

Previous Part

Series Masterlist

Age: 17

Year: 2012

Location: Brooklyn, NY

The last few months haven't been the greatest for Elizabeth.

She never did get to run for Student Body President during the months of October and November. Steve ended up running and winning. Elizabeth had even decided to leave student body council once campaigning started. She found no point in staying, everyone in the club didn't like her.

She had kept to herself. She no longer felt the need to make new friendships or continue the ones she had. The rumors made sure of that.

This was not how Elizabeth had thought her senior year would be. She thought she'd be crossing out he dates in her calendar feeling sad with each passing day, but now she's counting down to when she will never see these faces again.

She had also been approached by the principle right before school was dismissed for Holiday break. Principle Alvarez had told Elizabeth that she was the front runner for valedictorian. Elizabeth politely declined the offer, but Principle Alvarez told her to take the next three week holiday to think over it.

Elizabeth promised she would, but that was a lie. There was no way she would go in front of her classmates and give them a fake speech on comradery. 

These people wouldn't know the first thing about that.

Instead she focused on anything besides school.

Her parents weren't oblivious to Elizabeth's sudden change in personality. At first they thought it was because of her breakup with Bucky. But Elizabeth had told them it was a mutual decision. They wanted to believe her, but they knew their daughter. They knew it was not what she had said.

They knew something must've happened, especially with the way Bucky has been actively avoiding running into them. Even going as far as running inside whenever he saw Mr. Sanchez get home from work.

Even Steve stopped coming around. That was another red flag.

Then they had found out from Sarah Rogers, Steve's mom, that Steve would be running for student body president, after Elizabeth stepped down and left the club.

They were shocked to hear the news.

How could she not tell them. Her parents had debated back and forth whether or not they should have a conversation with her.

She had been keeping this a secret for months. Whenever they would bring it up, she told them it was in the works. But she had lied. There was clearly something bigger going on.

They then received a phone call from Principle Alvarez the day before winter break started. She told them about Elizabeth becoming valedictorian but turning it down. Another secret her parents had heard nothing about.

"Mrs. Alvarez, we had no idea," Caterina, her mother, said.

"I figured which is why I called. I told Elizabeth to take the break think it over."

"Thank-you, Mrs. Alvarez," Brandon, her father, thanked, "Actually we were just discussing Elizabeth and her sudden personality change. Do you have any idea what might have happened?"

"Well," she cleared her throat, "I'm assuming you both know about her breakup with James."

"Yes, but she told us it was a mutual decision, somehow we don't think she's telling he truth," Caterina explained.

"I suppose she isn't. Unfortunately, I don't think it's my place to say. Her grades are not falling behind, she hasn't done anything that would create a cause for concern," she half lied.

"But she quit student council. She isn't even talking to Steve," Caterina explained, slightly frustrated with the situation.

"Yes, well," Principal Alvarez pauses, "There was some rumors going around at the beginning of the year, surrounding James and Elizabeth. Sadly those rumors favored James."

"Why are we just hearing about this now?" her father asked.

"I have spoken to Elizabeth, she had asked me not to say anything to you. In order to keep this a safe place for her and other students, there's some things that need to stay confidential.

"I didn't sense any danger and the rumors died down. Yes, she did quit student council, but you wouldn't be surprised by the amount of students who leave a club senior year." she explained to them.

"We have had no idea any of this was happening," Caterina, sighs softly, her eyes getting teary. Her husband softly rubs her back.

"What do you suggest we do? Should we confront Elizabeth about all these lies?" Brandon asks.

"I think Elizabeth is trying to protect you guys and herself. I can't tell you what to do. This is your child. But I can offer some advice," she says, "Give her some time. When it comes, I'm sure she'll open up, it might not be now, but it will be when she is ready. I've seen this a lot with seniors who get thrown a massive curve ball and it just throws them all off.

"It's what I like to call their first taste of the real world. How they get through it shows how they will handle these kind of stressors in the future. Some just go right off the handle and turn to some bad things to cope. Some repress their feelings, and let it all boil until they have some sort of snap. Some, learn and grow from it. Those that learn and grow, take it quietly, figure out what's to come afterwards. They stop worrying about what's happening now, and are ready to move on. The reason I haven't reached out is because I can see how Elizabeth is handling it. Yes, maybe she has changed, grown up a bit, but I still haven't gotten any major danger signs from her that say she isn't handling this in an unhealthy manner.

"Elizabeth has been meeting with our guidance counselor, about once a week. And that was something she had chosen to do on her own. We aren't necessarily obligated to tell parents that because of  confidentiality reasons. If there was any cause for concerns you would've heard by now."

"So we should just wait?"

"Yes," she sighs, "I know it's probably not what you wanted to hear, but just know you have a wonderful daughter, who seems to know how to take care of herself in a healthy mature manner."

The conversation they had with Principal Alvarez brought some peace to their minds. Not completely, but enough to know that if Elizabeth really was in trouble she would go to them.

They had decided that it was probably best to get away for the winter break. Brandon and Caterina were able to work remotely during the holiday season, so they decided to take a trip to the family's cabin.

Elizabeth was excited to head to the cabin for the holidays. It meant that she wouldn't have to worry about running into anyone from school. And any reason to spend more time with her grandmother was exciting. Especially since she would be heading off to college soon.

Elizabeth had decided that Christmas to break the news to her parents that she had decided on the University of Stanford. She would be going as a Pre-Law student. The school was on the other side of the country. When she and her parents visited this past  summer, Elizabeth fell in love with the campus. 

Her last two choices were Stanford and Columbia.

With some talking to her guidance counselor and some major thought, she decided she desperately needed a change in scenery. A change in people.

For the first time since returning home, she had never felt more free. She was excited about the possibility of the future. She could no longer worry about what the hell was happening in Brooklyn.

Her parents were excited to hear about her choice. They were glad that she wasn't keeping this from them. They had decided that Principal Alvarez was right, Elizabeth was becoming such a strong woman in front of their eyes, and they had to trust that she knows what's best for herself.

Elizabeth and her grandma stayed that third week of break, while her parents were sent away by her grandma so she could have some quality time with her only granddaughter.

Elizabeth and her grandmother were currently sat in the living room going through some old photos. Elizabeth was helping her grandmother put them in some new photo albums she had gotten for Christmas.

"So, any new boy in your life?" her grandma, Sophia, asked.

"No, I'm done with high school boys," Elizabeth said, carefully going through the old photos.

"Good, high school boys are nothing but trouble."

"You're preaching to the choir," Elizabeth joked.

While grabbing another small box of photos, Elizabeth opened it up to reveal some very old letters and photos.

"What are these grandma?" she asked softly turning the box over for her grandma to see.

"Oh, I've been wondering where those went," she softly smiled, going over to sit next to Elizabeth on the couch.

Elizabeth handed her the box, and she pulled out a light yellowish envelope, the color from old age.

"Who are those from?"

"My old friend Rebekah," she said looking over at the letter.

"Rebekah? You've never told me about a Rebekah before.

"Well she was an old friend," her grandma said, handing Elizabeth a black and white photo of two young girls. One was her grandma and the blonde next to her must've been Rebekah. The photo was dated 1965.

"How did you guys meet?" Elizabeth asked.

"In junior high, we were both 12," her grandma handed her a photo dated 1960, it was of two even younger versions of the young teens.

"Oh, wow."

"From 12 to 21 we were inseparable."

"Woah, what's this?" Elizabeth asked, showing her grandma a photo of a quickie style wedding.

"Ah, that was Bex's first wedding."

"First?"

"Yup. Right out of high school, freshly 18. Adam Grant. Bex's high school sweetheart. Prom King and Queen."

"What happened?"

"Young love doesn't always last forever. Why do you think I was always so insistent with you not to worry about marriage until after you've graduated college and started your career."

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, "Just thought you thought I was too young, and you were right."

"Aren't I always," she winked playfully.

"What happened between them?"

"Adam wanted Rebekah to be a stay at home wife, to start popping out babies. That wasn't Bex at all. Bex was always the life of the party. She was a social butterfly, but she had dreams of making it to Broadway. Adam was set to take over his dad's mechanic shop.

"The marriage had only lasted a year, before they pulled the plug. After the divorce, Bex started to go on more auditions, while she waitressed part time, and once a month she would sing at a lounge in Manhattan. Now when I say she could sing, I mean she could sing. I believe she really could have made it," her grandma reminisces.

"What happened?"

"Bill happened," her grandma said, handing Elizabeth a photo of a man who appeared to be in his late 40s early 50s.

"Who's he?"

"Bill Carter. The richest man I have ever met. His family had oil money. He and his colleagues were in attendance at the lounge on one of the night's Bex was singing.

"From what Bex told me it was love at first sight. After that night Bex couldn't talk about anything but Bill. They were both so smitten over each other. I don't think I've ever seen Rebekah act like that. She started to clean herself up a little bit, to try and appease his family. But Bill loved her just the way she was when he met her."

"They were engaged two months later. This was both of their second marriages. Bill's parents desperately wanted him to have a prenup, but he was completely against it. He said that unlike his first marriage he knew this was the one. Plus Rebekah didn't care about all of that. She had had many opportunities to make some heavy cash by being a few married men's mistress, but that's not what mattered to her."

Elizabeth glanced down at the photo. It was a photo of the bride and groom surrounded by their friends, all of them have drinks and cigars in their hands, with big smiles on their faces.

Rebekah's hair was a everywhere, doesn't look like she bothered to comb it for the big day. Bill's tie was undone, along with his shirt being halfway unbutton, no suit jacket in sight.  Her lips were dark in the black and white photo, which meant she probably was wearing a darker lip, judging by the lipstick marks on Bill's lips, cheek, and neck.

"Was this at the end of the night?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, this was just after the ceremony," her grandmother smiled, "Bex and Bill started the party after they said I do."

"The limo we all rode in together were filled with laughs, drinks, and cigars," she laughed.

"You guys knew how to party," Elizabeth smiled at her grandmother.

"Hey it was the late 60's," she shrugged her shoulders, handing Elizabeth another photo from the wedding.

"This looks small," Elizabeth remarked.

"Yeah, Bill's parents decided they weren't going to pay for the wedding when Bill refused to have Rebekah sign a prenup," she said, "So Bill and Bex decided to have a small wedding. Free of judgment. Just those that loved and supported them."

"That's nice," Elizabeth smiled at the thought of a small intimate wedding.

Elizabeth had never really given much though of how her wedding would be. I mean she and Bucky used to talk about getting married, but that was it. No plans were every truly made. Elizabeth also never truly saw herself as a big ballgown type of gal.

All that had mattered was her and Bucky. Now that's no more.

She felt her eyes get a little teary, she cleared her throat.

"So where did they go to after?"

"Rhode Island."

"Rhode Island?" Elizabeth looked at her grandmother, "Why Rhode Island?"

"They took a trip out there when they were dating, and fell in love with it. Plus Bex has always wanted to live on the sea. She said it made her feel free."

"Did his parents ever accept their marriage?"

"Sadly no," her grandma said, "Especially not after Bill's doctor told him to settle down with the party."

"Did he get sick?"

"Yes, around year 7 of their marriage, his doctor told him if he continued down this path he wouldn't live a long life."

"What did he do?"

"Bill told him he'd rather live the rest of his short life filled with happiness then become a boring old man who lived forever."

"Did he die?"

"Yes he did. He lived another three years, he and Bex were able to spend their ten year anniversary before he passed a week later. The summer of 1979."

"A week later?" Elizabeth asked shocked.

"Yeah," her grandmother sadly remembers.

"Rebekah was never the same after that," her grandmother says, "She never fully recovered from Bill's death."

"Did they have any kids?"

"Not together. Bill had two kids from his first marriage, but the kids only cared about their inheritance, that they never got."

"What?"

"Turns out Bill had changed his will when the doctor had first told him to slow down. He left everything to Rebekah," her grandma says, "That did not help Rebekah after his death either,

"Rebekah wasn't a heartless person, she made sure his children were taken care of, she created a fund for both kids. She never wanted Bill to do that, she didn't even know until the will reading two days after his funeral. All Bex wanted was her Bill. She would've given up all that money just for him."

"That's so sad," Elizabeth commented.

"Very. Even though Bex acted like none of the rumors bothered her, it did. Because that town was painting her to be this horrible woman. Calling her the most shameless woman they had ever seen, saying she enjoyed ruining everything. So she gave them what they wanted. She gave them the most shameless woman they would ever see. From what I had heard the partying got worse. She had parties every day, the house was filled with people from the city. She even got in a feud with one of their neighbors and stole his dog and dyed it green."

"What do you mean 'from what you heard'?" Elizabeth asked confused.

"Well, Rebekah and I weren't close anymore. The last time I had seen Rebekah was the week of Bill's funeral. Before then we hadn’t seen each other in almost 8 years.”

"What happened?"

"Well after I graduated in 1970, your grandpa and I decided to get married and settle down in Brooklyn," her grandma said, handing her a photo of their wedding day, "We were done with the whole party scene. We were ready to begin our own lives. Grandpa and I had already had good jobs lined up. We were ready to be adults. We were ready to start our family.

“Rebekah never understood that. She claimed ‘kids ruined everything’. She and Bill were living this extraordinary life. Kids didn’t fit the picture.”

“What about his kids?”

“They’d visit once per season. Their mother didn’t think that lifestyle was for them, and Bill never fought it,” she told Elizabeth, “And after I had your Uncle Eric in 1972, Rebekah couldn’t put her own feelings for children aside. It put a strain on our friendship, causing me to realize that I couldn’t be her friend if she couldn’t support what made me happy.

“I had supported Rebekah in every aspect of her life. When she wanted to marry Adam right out of high school, I supported her, hell I drove them. When she wanted to divorce Adam, I was there to hold her while she grieved her first failed marriage. She wanted to become a Broadway star, I was right there cheering and supporting her. When she met Bill, and everyone was against their relationship, I was their only support. When they decided to get engaged and married only 5 months after meeting each other, I was there, every step of the way. Did I have time? No, I was busy with school, but I made time.

“I was there for everything. I supported her through everything. But when I was ready to begin my own life, Rebekah couldn’t be there,” her Grandma sighs, “It made me question everything about our friendship.”

“It wasn’t until Bill’s funeral that I fully realized, she was just scared of being alone,” she says, “His funeral was filled with people. But not one of them was there for her.”

“How sad.”

“Rebekah and I finally talked that night,” her grandma says, “She told me all about the nonstop adventures she and Bill had.”

“Did you guys makeup?”

“Yes and no,” she says, “Rebekah was still against kids. She apologized for what she had said, but at that point I had already had three kids. We knew that our friendship would never be the same. We knew that the only way we could be in each other’s lives was if we kept our distance. If any one of us needed each other we knew we could call. But sometimes people come into your life only to be a small part of it. They don’t stay forever, but they make an everlasting impact.”

“Do you know what ended up happening to her?”

“She died, 9 years after Bill’s death. She was only 40 years-old,” she tells Elizabeth with a glimmer in her eye, “She died alone. While on vacation in Italy.”

“I’m sorry Grandma,” Elizabeth sympathetically says, she places her hand softly on top of her grandmother’s.

“It’s okay sweetie, time has come and gone. We all have to go through it someday.”

“What happened to that big house of her’s?”

“It’s still there. It never sold.”

“Why?”

“People claim it’s cursed,” she says, “so now it sits empty on that hill in Rhode Island.”

“They claim a crazy woman lived there, that anyone that were to live there would end up in the same fate as she,” her grandma says, “She wasn’t crazy. She was heartbroken. That whole town exiled her. Blamed her for everything. Made her out to be someone she wasn’t.”

“I get the feeling,” Elizabeth mumbled, looking down at her hands.

“She wasn’t crazy. She was a woman who lost the love of her life. She traveled the world to find anything to fill that void in her heart, and she never did. So she made sure to give that town everything she had.

“She was a very scorn woman. Filled with hatred, and anger to those that did her wrong,” her grandma says, clutching Elizabeth’s hands, forcing her to look into her eyes, “I don’t want you becoming like that Elizabeth.”

“I know whatever is going on in school, is not the easiest. But please, don’t let your heart be filled with so much hatred. I don’t want you becoming like Rebekah. She never learned to forgive.”

“It’s hard to forgive,” Elizabeth sniffled.

“I know, but it’s even harder to carry around so much darkness in your life,” she explains, “You should be able to go to college with nothing weighing you down. Not having anything negative reminding you of back home. You shouldn’t dread going back home, you should be filled with joy. Don’t exile those around you, just because they haven’t figured out that part of their lives.”

“Don’t let these last few moments of your high school life be filled with what those kids are saying,” she squeezes Elizabeth’s hands, “You know who you are. Those closest to you truly know who you are. We love you and support you. And are so incredibly proud of the woman you have become.”

“So please find it in yourself to forgive,” her grandma pleads.

“It’s hard being the bigger person,” Elizabeth sniffles again, silent tears streaming down her face, “they hurt me so much.”

“I know sweetie,” she pulls Elizabeth into her arms, “But let them regret what they have done. Don’t let them win by seeing you become this mad woman. Let them look back in their life, regretting the way they treated you.”

————————

Once Elizabeth went back home, the weekend before she was due to return to school from winter break. She had a lot to think about.

Does she listen to her grandma and forgive everyone for everything they’ve done. Or does she continue down the path she started on months ago.

She had to admit to herself, the path she was on was lonely. She didn’t like it one bit. She didn’t like what they made her become.

She decided to take her grandma’s words, and promised that once she returned to school on Monday, she would go back to being who she was. Not entirely, but at least not filled with so much hatred. She had to move on. For her own soul.

The first step, forgiving Bucky.

She knew that that was the only way to start. She wasn’t ready to talk to him in person, she’s not sure if she ever will be. So she sat at her desk and wrote him a letter:

Dear James,

(Yes, I called you James). I don’t know how to begin this. My grandmother told me I should forgive those that hurt me. You know my grandma, filled with nothing but wisdom. She told me a story about a friend she had, one that let the rumors consume her with hatred. She died alone.

I don’t want to be that person.

I know you don’t believe me to be that person, even after the things I’ve said to you.

But, I do feel myself becoming that person. Hating everyone around me, aside from my own family. (They still have no idea what’s going on with me)

So my first step in letting go, is forgiving you.

Letting all the pain and hate you’ve caused on me go...

I forgive you James.

I forgive you for everything you’ve done.

I don’t think I’ll fully understand why you cheated on me.

I know that’s not who you truly are. So I hope, that whatever you’re going through you come out on the other side.

This is harder than I thought it would be...

I loved you so much. I really thought we would end up together. Maybe that was just a childish thought.

Does anyone even make it out alive with their high school sweetheart?

But I want to thank you. For being my first love.

We were best friends to begin with, so falling in love with you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

Being in love with you was the easiest thing I’ve done.

It was just so effortless. And now I’m starting to wonder if that’s not how love is supposed to be...

But thank-you, for loving me the best that you could. You might not think it was the best, but it was.

You’re a part of my life forever. Even if you’re not physically a part of it.

You, James Buchanan Barnes, have left a forever imprint in my life.

So for that I want to thank you and forgive you.

I will always remember you as the 7 year-old boy who taught me how to ride my bike.

-Elizabeth “Betty” Sanchez.

Elizabeth walked across the street and placed the sealed letter in the Barnes’ mailbox.

As she walked back to her house, she felt this heavy weight lifted off her shoulder.

Come that Monday morning she was going to accept, Principal Alvarez’s valedictorian offer. She was also going to talk to the student council and see if there was anyway for her to rejoin student body. She was also going to apologize to Steve. He was just an innocent bystander that got caught in the crossfire. She couldn’t blame him for standing by his best friend’s side.

Monday, her life will officially be going down a different path. One filled with less hatred, and more understanding and forgiveness.

————————-

Age: 35

Year: 2029

Location: Rhode Island

“We haven’t had any interested buyers in decades,” the relator tells the happy couple, “Because of that, the house is basically a steal. The family that owns it just wants it out of their possession.”

“Now, it is a bit of a fixer upper, since no one has lived here since the late 80s. But that shouldn’t be any issue for you since you’re married to the youngest recipient of the Pritzker Architecture Prize.”

The couple shares a brief smile with each other.

“But if I might ask, no one has every showed interest in this house, especially not a young family like yours. Why do you want to buy this house?”

“I think this house has been empty long enough. It’s time someone filled this house with lots of love and happiness. Like before,” Elizabeth smiled, small crows feet forming around her eyes.

“Well what better way then a family like yours,” the relator smiled, “There’s plenty of space for lots of kids.”

“This one is out last,” Steve smiled, putting his arm around Elizabeth, placing his hand on her growing belly.

“Three is enough for us,” She playfully poked Steve’s side.

They followed the relator to the back where two young children are running around playing.

“So what do you think?” Elizabeth whispered to Steve, looking up into his eyes.

“It’s definitely a fixer upper, but I love it,” he smiles, “Like I said before, wherever you go. I’m there.”

Elizabeth presses a soft kiss to Steve’s lips.

“Diane,” she calls out to the older relator who is running around with mini-me’s of Elizabeth and Steve.

“We’ll take it,” she smiles broadly.

[monkey-network]

Good Stuff's Best of 2019

WARNING: Just wanted to say cheers to you for making it through another year. I send you best wishes for next year to be fruitful. Thank you, take care out there, and enjoy. (Best of 2017) (Best of 2018)

Dedicated to Russi Taylor, John Witherspoon, Rip Torn, Tartar Sauce, Caroll Spinney, Peter Matthews, and the many of KyoAni lost in the arson incident. You all did wonderful; rest in peace.

Welp, I figured the last year of this decade would be the most chaotic one by far, then again everything peak after 2012. As for now, I am counting down the best cartoons/animations/comics I’ve seen and loved this year in no particular order other than #1. Same rules apply: No sneak previews of future projects, no repeats, and this time anything goes.

Runner Ups: Superman Smashes the Klan, Marvel’s Aero, Infinity Train, Enter the Florpus, Amphibia, Mao Mao: Heroes of Pure Heart, Helluva Boss, Meta Runner, Lego Movie 2, Forky Asks a Question

Anyways, Badda boom bang whiz, let’s do this shizz...

10. Super Mario Bros GT

Nostalgia can be quite a mystery, especially one that can come out of nowhere. Super Mario Bros Z kicked so much ass as a kid that now, it still frustrates me to this that it got a cease & desist from Nintendo, even the reboot from the same person couldn’t last long. But the gods have offered a slight miracle in the form of this new spiritual successor that has heart and soul put into every pixelated frame. There is much to celebrate with Youtube animation, where many say it’s dying due to the algorithm and all of the site’s corporate bullshit, but it’s stuff like this which helps me understand why we should celebrate. Against all odds, channels like Smasher Block willfully put their works out their for the people and continues to because on top of getting a little dough, it’s what they want to do.

9. DC SUPER HERO GIRLS (2019)

Awwwwww yeah, this is She-Ra and the Princesses of Power done right. Diverse female squad, each given a quality screen time to truly shine (Beecher especially) on their which makes the episodes where they’re all together feel earned and joyous to watch. Certainly reminds me of Friendship is Magic, which is coincidental since they were created by the same woman. I’d like to think this and MLP G4 were the answers to Faust’s cancelled project Milky Way and the Galaxy Girls where multiple personalities collide to one extraordinary superhero team of girls capable great feats that are lifted from their insecurities or drawbacks. And on top of this being a fun series to kick back to all around, it’s a comforting, somewhat aspiring thought to consider.

8. JOKER

I am somebody that rarely goes to the theaters to watch a film; you have to hook my tight just for me to even think of buying a ticket, no less plan to. But honestly, Joker was worth the hype, the ticket, and the fact that it wasn’t the incel uprising that buttfuck normies tried to make it out as. It’s lower on the list because in thought, there definitely could’ve been some tweaks to the dialogue and a couple scenes that I felt didn’t work in the long run. But really, this movie to me worked because of the escalation that leads to a cathartic climax and ending that left me in actual tears. I don’t give a shit if it “doesn’t fit”, having Frank Sinatra sing the film's credits put me in shambles. Joaquin Phoenix was phenomenal as Arthur, and this movie felt authentic in its many details. This is definitely up there with my favorite comic book films of all time. Good thing, too, Spider-Man was taking up most of that shelf.

7. TUCA & BERTIE

This series being what I can’t help but say is a spin-off to Bojack Horseman, a show I respect, was enough to pull me into watching it. But it being like Bojack where it’s tight-roping between a bouncy comedy and a grounded drama was what kept me around for more. It is a damn shame this was cancelled after one season (while 13 Reasons Why gets FOUR seasons like what the fuck), because while this did feel enough like a complete series, I was certainly interested for more because I really enjoyed it all. I have my issue with a couple choices in the show, but I am sure this series would’ve addressed them later down the line. I can see why some women would find this personally endearing, it felt like the personal stories of actual people, and it deserved better. Either way, I enjoyed this series and I recommend it just as much as Bojack.

6. PRIMAL

Genndy Tartakovsky is that kind of cartoon creator where you feel he’ll go beyond if you give him the right amount of space. He’s not a perfectionist like John “Dirty Diddler” Kricfalusi, but with things like Hotel Transylvania and Samurai Jack, he certainly has proven to have the range in animation where you know how he plays. Primal showcasing his noted skill in dialogue-less storytelling and dynamic action scenes, able to convey everything clear with its ruthless yet careful protagonist and his dinosaur friend, all on top of the most luscious backgrounds. This is a series that definitely feels like Genndy’s taken what he’s used from his previous works and putting it together for a brutal yet passionate look at the prehistoric life. He truly brought us an adult series to enjoy and to look forward to more in the coming year.

5. SPINEL

Bet you didn’t expect a character to be on this list, eh? Spinel is the best thing to come out of Steven Universe in general; makes me wish she was in a better movie. The crew certainly did their darndest to make her not only an enjoyable and connectable character through and through, but a very versatile character that the fandom could take in any which way. Call it corny, but Spinel perfectly represents SU as a whole: a lovable goof that can certainly mean business but deep down is deserved of a hug because of what she’s gone through. Wish she had a more satisfying resolution in her respective debut, but really it’s the balance between those three elements mentioned that makes Spinel almost eternally wonderful.

4. MOB PSYCHO 100 II

As someone that doesn’t like reading, I’m a firm believer that the best animations or visual medias elevate the writing to a memorable degree; the visuals hook to the point where you want to think about what you saw and how it was conveyed. Mob Psycho 100, for two seasons now, does this in spades where Studio Bones throw them bones in animating one of the most dynamic animes of the modern era, providing the writing and characters a proper chance to flex its muscles. The characters are especially what makes this and MP100 as a whole work so well, the story being about a boy learning to be more sociable as well as emotionally stronger all while helping others understand maturity and empathy. For more on this, I recommend Hiding in Public’s video(s) on Mob. But with the animation, Bones was able to provide a sense of impact and immersion to the moments that matter, not making it an overstimulating mess, and putting some respect on ONE’s webcomic art style. 

3. KLAUS

Hands down, this is a great Christmas movie. Take away the animation and you have a charming, wanna say ground and authentic, story about the makings of Santa Claus. With memorable and likable characters, a nice escalation in terms of the plot, and moments that are/can be so satisfying, they can bring you to tears. A couple overdone tropes in the road that doesn’t make this the most perfected story, but those sincerely minor compared to everything else that makes this story the best. Now. Add in the animation, and you have a gold, nay a platinum animated story of the year where the visuals definitely enhance the story to a degree where they’re undoubtedly inseparable. The visuals alone is enough to check this movie out and it’s eye-opening when you learn of how it’s all done. Klaus is a film that did it’s job and then some, and I hope this will be well remembered as a classic holiday film for it deserves that status.

2. BEASTARS

I’ll be fair, I’m mostly referring to the manga and not the anime but since the anime premiered this fall, it counts. Because be it the anime or the series overall, Beastars has such well intricate world building all while offering a little something for everyone (violence, romance, slice of life). The story is well paced and even when we aren’t focusing on the main characters momentarily, Itagaki is surprisingly able to make every supporting/side character we come across memorable in their own way; like I said before, the city is much a character in this story. Oh yeah, and the mangaka is the daughter of Keisuke “Grappler Baki” Itagaki, that in itself is a treasuring bit of trivia for this. Everything about Beastars is enticing and Studio Orange certainly helped in giving this series more of a following.

1. GREEN EGGS & HAM

Well, well, well. Guess Netflix is three for three in terms of bringing its best foot forward among its few steps back each year. The best term to describe this series is surprising. Surprising that this is a Dr. Seuss story that got expanded a 13 episode series, that has fleshed out characters, fun hijinks, an easy story, lovely emotional, more quieter moments... on top of being 2D hand drawn animated. I mean, what else is there to say? Green Eggs and Ham is to Dr. Seuss what Seven was for Final Fantasy, what Friendship is Magic was for MLP, what watermelon was before a nice menthol cigarette. This definitely took the top spot because to me, it was able to bring many good elements from the previous entries and knot it all together into a well kept bow that I never knew I wanted until now. I’m genuinely glad this show got to exist the way it is and I am hoping, praying, that the second season keeps that momentum up.

That leads us to the actual number one which is

1. STEVEN UNIVERSE FUT-

Total Dramarama is now the two time World Heavyweight Champion, babey. Will 2020 give us a quality contender? Will the streak last another year?

Stay tuned, and always seek out the Good Stuff.

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 15 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: You guessed it, this part took forever and I had to push the second half of Kenzie meeting Annette into the next part because it just turned out really long etc etc!!! There’s an easter egg implication that the weird weed Claire got in Colorado (from a witch but she didn’t know that) can help you remember bits of your past/parallel lives. I’m going to keep making allusions to Kenzie’s ultimate consciousness as a divine being; in the AHS universe she’s a Supreme, in this universe she’s got a low-key version of that energy, a very strong aura, let’s say, one that can encourage the people around her to be better and inspire devotion in them towards her; if Duncan is her Prince, Claire, Samuel and Harris are her Knights of the Round Table. I really wanted to include a scene at some point where Kenzie gets drunk and Duncan takes care of her because relationships in reality are a lot of forgiving each other for gross stuff and taking care of each other in various states of grossness, so I’m glad I could put it in here and I love how it turned out. Duncan getting her a tee shirt from MARIE LAVEAU’S HOUSE OF VOODOO is an obvious nod to Marie/Angela, but also a hint that Duncan and Kenzie might end up in NoLa one of these days. Here’s his Givenchy face cleanser. This is the dress Kenzie wears during the day in this part. Marissa Montague is, you guessed it, a Madison Montgomery/Emma AU, and she will show up again for sure. Erik, Annette’s stylist, is a Dennis O’Hare AU; he’s sort of based loosely on Liz Taylor from HOTEL, but he’s not trans in my universe, he’s a queer gay man. Kenzie will get to tell you all the story of what happened to her at work more clearly in the next part. This is the dress Annette wears for the press conference, and this is the one she wears at Plume. Here’s THE KISS by Klimt, a painting I’ve thought of again and again for Duckenzie. I listened to Etta James’ Stormy Weather a lot for the latter half of this part; the weather around Duncan and Mackenzie is stormy, but they are the eye of the storm, calm and constant. Plume is real and so is the private wine room and the Jefferson looks FANCY AF and not like a place I could afford to stay at (I used this article to write about it since I’ve never actually eaten there and probably never will...apparently a “cheap” dinner there runs you like $300). So far Annette has repeatedly proven to be the most difficult character to write in this AU; this article is a good example as to why Beau Willimon created a particularly complex character with her, and my hat off to him and Diane for creating a very special kind of villain who I also don’t really think is truly evil, specifically because she is capable of love; she loves her son unconditionally, and that is her most redemptive quality, and I am definitely using that to my advantage in this fic. There’ll be sex in the next part, don’t worry! I found out the other day that The Youth of Bacchus is going up for auction at Sotheby’s in May; wish I had the $35 million to buy it, because I’ve become terribly attached to it since I gave it to Duncan in this story. I guess I’ll have to settle for a print, but I really hope it goes to someone who isn’t terrible. If y’all weren’t aware, Billie really does have a beautiful singing voice. Annette softening to Duncan and Kenzie at the end is definitely due partially to Duncan and Kenzie’s combined magicks; being together will strengthen the echoes of their magickal abilities from that other universe. If you’re reading this fic, your comments, asks and reblogs mean everything to me.

“You know what I think?” Claire voice was low, her words drawn out by the weed and good champagne, and she was collapsed onto the vintage fainting couch in the corner, pulling strands of her blonde shag through lazy fingers. She was looking over at where Duncan and Mackenzie lay on his low leather couch, the remnants of takeout scattered over the coffee table, stray chopsticks and fortune cookies and half-empty cartons; Kenzie was folded against him, sleeping silently, her breathing very small and even, her face pressed into the crook of Duncan’s neck, her forehead against his chin, her pleated skirt riding up, her bare leg visible above the knee, thrown over his thigh; her stomach and the sweetness between her legs pressed, achingly, against his hip. Duncan was staring off into space (listening to her breathing, her tiny heartbeat against my side, her softness and her, her, her) in the quiet, the record long since having stopped, the calm night floating around them in the low light. His head was swimming with the weed and alcohol; it really has been a long day. My poor Kenzie.

“What’s that?” Duncan realized Claire had said something, looking over at her in a daze.

“I think you two are sssoulmates. I really do, buddy.” Claire was drunk and stoned; her voice slurred out the word soulmate like she had a lozenge in her mouth. “I think it’s destiny.”

“I didn’t believe in that sort of thing before I met her, honestly.” Duncan felt drunk enough to say what he was thinking; to hell with it, this woman loves Kenzie utterly, she won’t mind. He spoke quietly, not wanting to wake Kenzie, his hand coming up to trail down the wave of golden hair that fell over her shoulder. “But I do now. And I think you’re right.”

“Something about you two,” Claire pointed over at them, sitting up a little, the better to throw her head into the couch pillow. “It’s real intense. Like a bright light a moth flies into. Everyone else is gonna want a piece of it. Be careful there.”

“I will, Claire.”

“I’m just so happy to see her happy like this.” Claire’s face bunched together suddenly; Duncan felt sure she was going to cry, but she seemed to hold it together, sniffing a little and breathing in harshly, bringing a finger up to dab under her eyes. “Kenzie’s my best friend.”

“I promise I will take good care of her, Claire. I give you my word.”

Claire nodded at him; he could see her lip trembling for awhile, then she sat up, pulling her purse, discarded at her feet earlier, onto her lap, taking out a tissue and wiping her nose with it, tucking her hair behind her ears. She stepped over to where Duncan lay trapped under Kenzie’s sleeping form; she shook her head as he went to move up, “Shhhhh, no, don’t wake her,” she said, and leaned down, softly, to hug Duncan around the neck, letting go of him after a moment to stroke Kenzie’s hair. Kenzie murmured indistinctly into Duncan as Claire did this, her lips brushing into his skin, and he shivered. My angel.

“I’m gonna go home. I’ll see you both soon. Kenzie deserves this so much. She’s the most beautiful person, Duncan. The loveliest, the kindest, the bravest. You truly have everything now. Don’t take it for granted, not for a moment.”

“I won’t. I swear, I won’t.”

Claire stared at Kenzie for a moment, and Duncan could see the affection in her gaze; it stopped his heart, made his head swim. Claire would die for her. He knew it, utterly. He felt a fierce affection for Claire in that moment; felt as though they were sworn siblings or fellow crusaders in some just, divine cause. The comradery he felt defied an accurate description, but he knew that he and Claire were bosom companions now in some way; we protect her. We are her devoted ones. Us, and Madeline, and Harris, and Samuel. His head felt foggy, indistinct, faraway, part of some other time or day; “That really was some weed, Claire,” he murmured as she walked away from him, towards the front door.

“Right? The best shit. Sometimes I feel like I’m in another world when I smoke it, especially when I’m alone. Like I’m someone else for a little while. Crazy, but fucking neat. Goodnight, Duncan. Tell Kenzie I said good night, I love her, and I hope everything goes well tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Claire. Really. Thank you.”

Claire nodded a little, her eyes bright again. Then, she left, the big black door swinging shut with a barely audible snap behind her. Duncan could hear her boots retreating down the hall, then nothing.

He tried to move so Kenzie didn’t wake; tried to pick her up a little, straighten her so he could get a grip to carry her to bed, but she stirred more heavily this time, and her eyes fluttered open, still half-asleep. “Baby, what time issit…” “After 11, Kenzie. We should probably go to bed, we have another long day tomorrow.”

“Babyyy…” Kenzie lifted her face up to his, her flushed skin pressing into him, and her mouth came against his; she tasted like bittersweet champagne and weed and she smelled like roses and low sweat, and he ached at the softness of her, but he could sense how drunk and stoned she was; her hand slid down to his crotch, loosely, and her head seemed to loll on her shoulders, and he gently pulled back from her hand at his groin, placing his firm grip below her shoulder blades, holding her up.

“Baby, not tonight, okay? You’re drunk. Kenzie, come on. Kenzie, let’s go to the bathroom.”

Kenzie made a whining noise in the back of her throat, but her eyes fluttered with the residue of the sleep she’d just left and her body wanted her to return to. “I wanna fuck you, baby,” she murmured, and she pouted, and she tried to reach for his belt but her hand slipped down and he caught her before she fell, his large fingers coming up to the side of her jaw, her eyes fluttering at him again, breath shallow.

“I wanna fuck you too, baby, but not when you’re so drunk and sleepy, okay? I love you.” Duncan slid his arm down around her shoulder and the other under her knees; he lifted her up (oh my sweet Kenzie), carrying her slight weight easily, and she turned into his dark gray high-collared shirt, bending her arms into his torso, like she was a child turning into the heat of its mother, as he carried her through the door of the bedroom, towards the bathroom. Duncan set her carefully upright on the cool marble floor; the coldness of it seemed to make her more alert, her head lifting, and Kenzie’s cheeks looked very pale in this light, and her eyes opened with a snap, disoriented, as he held her under her arms.

“I think I might be sick,” she said in a tiny voice, and then Kenzie pushed his arms away with one sharp movement and ran to the toilet, jerking her little head over the bowl, knees buckling, and vomited a stream of vintage Moet and Chinese food into it. Duncan immediately rushed up behind her and gently pulled her long hair out of her eyes, grasping her in a makeshift ponytail with his fist; Kenzie moaned, then another stream of vomit came from her mouth and nose, filling the bathroom with the sharp smells of stomach acid and fizzy champagne and grease.

“Awww, baby,” Duncan murmured, rubbing her back with his other hand, carefully, steady. “Shhhh, baby…” Kenzie let out another little moan that made his heart clench; ugh, my sweet Kenzie, today was too long and too much, I shouldn’t have let her drink so much, but then he wondered if it would have been possible to stop her anyway; this was Kenzie, after all, wildly determined in whatever she did, including drinking most of the second bottle they’d opened herself. Kenzie reached up and flushed the toilet, and he noticed her little arm shaking as she did, her flesh covered in goosebumps. Duncan crouched down behind her, hand still steadily rubbing her back, hand holding her hair carefully to the side, his lips coming up between her shoulder blades, kissing the cotton fabric of her dress.

“Can you get me a tissue, baby,” Kenzie said, her face in the toilet still, and Duncan’s heart ached to hear its shakiness, the shivering edge of tears in her throat. He gently tucked her hair into the collar of her dress to keep it from falling into her eyes again and reached up to where there was always a box of tissues on a shelf built into the wall beside the mirror; his eyes fell over her Golden Pothos, now on top of the toilet tank, where it would live, and he thought of her holding it so tenderly as they went through the backyard earlier that day. Duncan leaned down tenderly and wiped at the corners of Kenzie’s mouth and around her nose with it as he thought of the plant gathered in her arms; she looked at him with an embarrassed expression, gold flecks floating around her corneas, her eyes over-bright. She looked so tiny, crouched over the toilet this way; he longed to gather her up in his arms again and cradle her against him, longed to soothe the pain and discomfort away from her.

“Duncan, I’m sorry,” and a tear fell down her cheek.

“Sorry for what, baby? It’s okay. It doesn’t matter. You think I’ve never had too much to drink?”

“This is gross, though.” Kenzie made a face, wrinkling her nose, and she leaned over the toilet again, spitting the residue of her vomit into the bowl.

Duncan laughed a little, bringing his hand down to the spot between Kenzie’s ear and jaw, using the tissue, folded over, to wipe her mouth again. I love to hold her here, he thought for the thousandth time, my hand fits here like this part of her was made for me to hold her. “Baby. I love you. That means I love the gross things, too. Are you okay? Are you gonna throw up again?”

Kenzie shook her head a little, a shiver running down her back through the tips of Duncan’s fingers. “I think I’m done. Can you get me a tee shirt to wear?” Her eyes were clearer now; less dazed with most of the alcohol out of her body, and there were lines of tiredness under her eyes. “Mmhmm,” Duncan murmured to her, his hand falling down the back of her hair. He went to the walk-in closet to the bottom drawers and pulled out another one of the old graphic tees there; this one said MARIE LAVEAU’S HOUSE OF VOODOO in melting tie-dye letters, with three skulls and a cross, sticks of incense floating on either side of them, a souvenir he’d gotten in New Orleans when he was traveling alone in his early 20’s, after he’d graduated. The road trip had been before his mother had insisted he become a more public face in the company; after his affair with Misha, before he met Evan. Kenzie and I should go somewhere together, he thought, unbuttoning his own clothing and kicking it off so he was wearing only his underwear, unbuckling his black Movado and setting it on the shelf, and soon. We can’t go on a road trip; that option is closed to us now. But we can get away from everything for a week. It would be so wonderful to sleep in with her all day. No dinners with our mothers to worry about, no paps milling around, no press conferences. We have that cabin around Oakland, next to Deep Creek. I should take her there. Maybe after the Gala. She’d love that. We’d be really alone...and I could worship her for days. Mackenzie. Kenzie. Baby. Angel.

As Duncan reentered the bathroom he saw Kenzie had pulled her dress and bra off, leaving them in a pile on the cold marble floor, and was carefully scrubbing her teeth at the sink in just her underwear (pink and made of some kind of silky fabric, and Duncan couldn’t help but look down at her round little ass for a moment with affection, think of his fingers there between her legs in the red dress), her face visibly damp from having washed it a moment before, a little color returning to her cheeks. She glanced up at him through the mirror, clearly still embarrassed. Good fucking job, Kenz, really making the place your own, puking as soon as you move in, her eyes seemed to think at him. Seemed to, or really did? Duncan pushed it away and came up behind her, his hands falling carefully on her bare shoulders, the shirt gripped in his fingers, pressed against her arm. Kenzie rinsed her toothbrush carefully, swishing water in her mouth, and spit into the sink. Then she turned to him, shivering again, and lifted her head up, expectant, in an achingly sweet gesture of trust that made his heart beat faster. Duncan bunched the shirt and pulled it over her little head, her hair sticking to her damp cheek, and Kenzie pulled her arms through the holes, once again too large for her, the long dip of her collarbone visible through the neck.

“Nice shirt, baby,” she whispered. Duncan grinned. “New Orleans is a great place, ever been there?” He reached for his own toothbrush.

“Nope.”

“We’ll go sometime. I think you’d really like it. And the food is amazing.”

Kenzie stared up at him, eyes dark green and chocolate-caramel and too bright, her cheeks still pink with embarrassment as Duncan brushed his own teeth, then reached for the bottle of Givenchy face cleanser he kept on one of the glass shelves to the side of the silver-framed mirror.

“Sorry I puked, baby.” Kenzie’s hand was at her cheek, as if to shield her face. He looked down at her, his heart full of so much terrible tenderness that it made him feel dizzy.

“Kenzie. Kenzie. I love you so much.”

“I’m scared to meet your mother tomorrow.” Kenzie bit her lip, tears threatening the corners of her eyes now. Duncan wanted to dip his face down to her and kiss them away. The thought of Annette being unkind to her filled him with hot, roiling anger. He had no idea himself of how the dinner at Plume would go tomorrow, and his thoughts flashed back to the texts his mother had sent him that day with the bluntness of a bad memory: I see what’s going on with your social media.You continue to deliberately disobey my wishes by flaunting your relationship publicly and it’s a heinous disappointment to me, Duncan. Your lack of respect for me in this matter is staggering. We’re going to have a long chat tomorrow about what is expected of you in your personal affairs going forward. The press conference is at 3 PM and you’re expected to be there. Do not bring her to it. Do not be late for dinner.

But Duncan knew one thing for absolute certain: I love this girl more than anyone I have ever loved, more than anything. And I’m going to make sure Mom understands that for real this time. I’m going to make sure she understands that Kenzie is a permanent part of my life now for as long as she’ll have me. He reached for the towel that hung on a hook beside the glass shelf, patting his face dry with it, then reached for the hand at her cheek, grasping it, pressing his large, long fingers through the empty spaces of her small slender ones.

“Kenzie. I swear. Everything is going to be fine. Let’s go to bed, okay, baby? Let me hold you.”

Kenzie nodded, sniffling (baby, don’t cry, your eyes are like stars drifting out in the universe, I love them so), and Duncan switched the bathroom light off, gently leading her to the bed, pulling her softly down to him and gathering her into his arms the way he’d longed to, her little face pressed between his ribs, her little hands under her chin.

Kenzie fell asleep almost immediately, her breath slowing to a small whisper in the darkness, but Duncan lay there awake for a long time, his hand falling down through her hair, around the curve of her ear, lost in her, thinking back on the past week, thinking back on everything that had happened, every moment that had led to now: seeing her on the balcony among the roses, his heart dumbstruck with immediate wonder and fierce, nearly painful longing (the resounding weight of the Fates settling down on me, I think; Madeline Stone’s daughter falling down from heaven into my arms, how could I be so blessed, how), kissing the stripes at her ankles, the fall of her hair that first night as they fucked, the quartz glittering at her throat, the look in her eyes in his shower the next morning, her revelation over breakfast, Samuel’s adamant words (let your heart be your guide), gazing at her over their dinner at Le Diplomate, the photos taken of them there that had ended up on the website later, his face pressed ardently into her cheek, the way she hovered over him in the bathtub, steam rising, roses all around her, bathed in golden shadows, Annette’s coldness and dismissal, the aching way Kenzie had folded into him, her face tear-stained, her cunt pressed into his mouth, filling him with her need, her body pressed against him, soft as flower petals, her dresses now hanging in his monotone closet, filling it with her essence and her color and her life, her plants on the sill in the kitchen, in their bathroom, beside the bed. He thought of the women in the line at the coffee shop, snapping pictures of them, Kenzie’s quivering but brave voice rising at them defiantly, her hand slipping a $5 bill into the barista’s tip jar, the dinner she’d cooked for him (the best food I’ve ever had because she made it for me, she made it) and the little wine-colored slip dress falling off her shoulder, the look in her eyes as he’d tied her to the bed (this bed, our bed) with his belt, needy and approving and excited and tinged with vulnerability, kindling his desire with a blunt force, the look in her eyes as she’d held the velvet ribbon sitting naked on his desk, the look in her eyes as she’d handed him the plug and told him to fuck her with it, the overwhelming sound of her voice keening into him and rushing him to orgasm as she rode him on the floor, the fall of her hair always drifting in his mind now, the shape and feel of her much smaller body pressed against him, into him, always in his mind, the lost look she’d had after all the paps were at her little apartment today, and the determined look she’d had when she came back out of the bathroom, and in that moment he knew she was going to be brave, he knew she was brave, and loved her so much in that moment he thought his heart would burst, thought of her in the red dress in his lap and his fingers at her clit, thought of her dancing tonight, her beautiful voice (she does have a beautiful voice, her voice singing out here in our home filling it with her gold and I love it so much, I love her voice so much) falling down 30 stories to drift into the night, the shadows on her skin and finally Duncan started to drift away into sleep, thinking of her voice, like a lullaby, his arms holding her close against him...so it’s hard to find someone with that kind of intensity, you touched my hand, I played it cool...and you reached out your hand for me...

------

In the morning it was raining again; June 1st, and summer storms to come with it. Kenzie still had a pale pallor and Duncan had made her a green smoothie with kale with his Vitamix, one she sipped with a measured disgust in the bed, clearly trying to will herself out of her hangover. “I’ll have to figure out how to make the one with chocolate and avocado that you love,” he said, remembering her rambling about Emissary on the sidewalk that day, and Kenzie smiled at him weakly, appreciatively. “Yes, please, baby. But this is okay.” Her face clearly said otherwise, and he leaned down to kiss her softly before pulling a black mock neck shirt over his head, loving the way her expressions always gave away her mood so immediately. I don’t think she could hide any feeling she has about anything from me no matter how hard she tried, he thought, his hand coming down through the tangle of her chestnut hair. And I love her for it. Her earnestness.

Kenzie had moved slow that morning; Duncan gently pushed some vitamins (a B vitamin complex and curcumin) carefully into her hand, which she’d used the last of the smoothie to wash down, and she’d shakily showered (Duncan having finished long before) and dressed (a tulip-sleeved maxi dress with tiny red flowers and a slit up the side, a dress he loved achingly, immediately; today she put on a tiny rose-gold moon necklace, the one he remembered from the summery photo of her he’d left arrow-pierced hearts on on her Instagram), brushing her hair out with a trembling hand in the bathroom mirror as he watched her from the bedroom, glancing up from his phone, trying to be subtle, worrying over her pale face. Duncan looked down at his phone again; Samuel had texted him that he and Harris were waiting in the BMW outside, and that there were a few paps milling around outside as well; that Duncan should tell them when they were heading downstairs so Harris could escort Kenzie to the car. Paps rarely bothered Duncan at the high-rise; the Shepherds simply had too much money, Bill and Annette inclined to leverage cash for privacy, but it seemed Kenzie’s appearance in his life had emboldened some of them beyond past arrangements. Going to have to make some calls about that, he thought, pulling a hand through the side of his hair. There can’t be paps around here, Kenzie needs to feel safe here.

“Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” He asked as she emerged from the bathroom, her expression serious, a little blush on her cheeks today to hide her hangover, reaching down for her black satchel which was leaning against the nightstand on her side of the bed. He came up to her, his hand falling down her hair to her shoulder, along the side of her waist. “Should you stay home from work today? Annette wants to see us at 6, and I have this press conference I have to go to a few hours before that, but maybe you should stay here and sleep.”

“Duncan, I can’t, my article’s going live on the website today and it’s already out with the print edition. Candice is expecting me to come in today.” He watched with tenderness as she pulled his big black Brooks Brothers cardigan on over her dress; all her clothes are here now but she still chose that cardigan, he thought, and wanted to kiss her, but held back. “And I know Ben is gonna bother me about your interview again--I need your email for him, by the way, or I’ll just give you his contact, I guess. I just need to go in for a few hours. I’ll be fine. But, speaking of my article…I meant to say something before…”

Duncan looked at her quietly. Oh no...what’s the article?

Kenzie pushed a shaky hand through her hair, fingers coming down to fiddle with her necklace. “I was at that party to spy.”

Duncan pressed a hand immediately to his chin. I should have realized that. Why would Kenzie be at that party if she works for the Post unless she was covert. If I hadn’t fallen immediately for her, I would have seen that right away. But I did. I did fall for her. I’ve fallen for her completely and now she lives with me and I love her. Fuck.

“I recorded bits of conversations and used them for my article. It’s about underhanded PAC donors for Republican Congressmen. Senator Howell specifically, but a few others.”

“Fuck,” Duncan closed his eyes. “Kenzie. Fuck.” He pressed two fingers into his eyelids, down the bridge of his nose, breathing out heavily. “My mother--my Uncle is trying to get President Underwood to pass a deregulation bill--this is going to interfere--”

Duncan stopped suddenly. This is going to interfere with our objectives, was what he had been about to say. But the layers of Annette Shepherd in that statement had sent a cold chill immediately down his spine. No. I’m not going to do this. I’m not going to scold Kenzie for this. This article was her job, and she’s a journalist, and this is her work, and it must have taken her a fuckload of guts to crash that party, and she didn’t know me yet--and things have changed. The objective for me has changed.

“Baby, when I got the assignment, I didn’t know you yet--” Kenzie had started, her eyes shining, her mouth turned down sadly, but Duncan shook his head harshly and brought his thumb to Kenzie’s lips to stop her words and leaned his head down with fervid immediacy and kissed her, open-mouthed, and he felt her trembling against him soothe and soften as he tasted her, words washing out of him like a tide drifting away from shore. “It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter,” he breathed into her between their mouths, pulling away and then coming back with his hands in her hair, pulling her into him by the wool of his cardigan she wore, breathless, “we’re going to get through this and everything will be okay because you’re here with me now and I’m yours and that’s all that matters and the objective changed, fuck, it changed, to hell with all of them.”

Kenzie nodded into him; she didn’t speak, just nodded into him, her face turned up to him, her feet tip-toed to reach him, and she nodded and fell against him, her hands holding his face, her lips whispering a secret language into him that only the two of them could understand.

--------

Kenzie had quickly walked out of the high-rise’s entrance to the BMW, ahead of Duncan before he could stop her. Harris was closely at her side, holding a black umbrella over her head though the rain was light, scanning the perimeter of the sidewalk in front of the high-rise, his large hand pressed carefully into Kenzie’s back. Several of the paps rushed toward her, snapping their cameras, Harris getting in the way to spoil their shots; they noticed Duncan come out behind her and rushed at him next. “Duncan, Duncan, are you two living together?” The man closest to him asked, shoving a round microphone near his cheek, a cameraman with a steadicam behind him with its lens pointed at Duncan. “Are you engaged? Have you spoken with Madeline Stone? What does Annette think of all of this?”

“She thinks you should mind you own fucking business,” Duncan said, curtly, following Kenzie and Harris quickly as the two men chased behind him, still holding out the microphone and camera. “You know you’re not supposed to show up around here, Gary, and if I fucking see you again we’re yanking all of the BPF press credentials from the Gala next week. You can pass that on to Gretchen and whoever else is in league with you from the outlets.” Gary, who had patchy gray hair and beard and a pudgy face and was wearing a leather jacket on top of a polo shirt, stopped when Duncan said this, his face shocked. “Fuck off and don’t come around here again, I’m warning you, this building is off-limits, as if don’t you fucking know that already.” Duncan turned away from him and slid into the backseat of the BMW, slamming the door. Kenzie had a stony expression on her face, but grasped Duncan’s hand tightly when he reached for her, staring down at her phone as if to distract herself. Samuel pulled the BMW away from the curb, soft strains of Ella drifting to the backseat (such conflicting questions ride around in my brain / should I order cyanide or order champagne), and Duncan closed his eyes, trying to let her voice in to calm him down, gripping Kenzie’s hand perhaps too hard; she shook her wrist a little and he softened his hold on her. His blood was boiling, his mind red-hot suddenly, and he felt as though he wanted to tell Samuel to reverse the car and let him out so he could punch the BPF reporter in the jaw. Gary Spencer was known for crossing boundaries regularly; another BPF reporter named Sissy Conners was also known for her propensity to cross police lines and find back entrances, and Duncan wondered absently if it had been her who had found Kenzie trying to leave One Franklin Square through the loading dock entrance a few days ago. As if she had read his mind, Kenzie lifted her phone up to his eyes; Claire had sent her another link, this one with two videos: the first of Kenzie looking startled in the camera and Samuel barking at the cameraman to step back; Sissy’s telltale brightly colored two-piece in the corner of the shot. The second was from yesterday at Kenzie’s apartment; mostly unintelligible shouting, with Kenzie’s head pointed down and Duncan looking angry and annoyed into a camera off to the side of the video.

“Fuck, I fucking hate them,” he breathed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “They’re fucking relentless. I’m sorry, Kenzie.”

“It’s not your fault. I know I need to get used to this.”

“I just wish it wasn’t like this. I hate seeing them rush at you like that. It pisses me off and I can’t fucking think straight.”

Kenzie was staring down at her phone again, though, her thumb sliding back and forth against his palm, and smiling. “What are you smiling about,” he said, tell me, fingers hooking around the edge of the cardigan, pulling her mouth against him again. The anger was dissolving out of him now, her proximity able to calm him with a supernatural ease; her gold, seeping into me, like soothing medicine, like wildflower honey.

“Just Instagram. The comments on these photos you took of me. People are flipping out, but it’s kind of...funny. Some are nice, too.” Duncan looked down at her phone; she had brought up the picture he took of her yesterday on the way home, her eyes closed, her expression sleepy, with the sunlight falling over her cheek. Sleepy angel. It had over 275,000 likes now. Duncan pulled her phone gently out of her hand; Kenzie let him, the smile still playing around the corners of her mouth (light pink lipstain, like a little candy). He scrolled down.

She really is an angel isn’t she followed by six heart-eye emojis. Yes, she fucking is, he thought.

She doesn’t deserve you dump her  

They’re getting married I’m calling it!!!

Seriously this couple is the ultimate OTP, amennnnnn

LEGENDARY MADELINE STONE HAS A LEGENDARY DAUGHTER TURNING THAT RICH BOY ASS TO JELLY I LOVE QUEENS

I give this two weeks y’all

STILL WANT YOU TO BE WITH @marissamontague I WON’T GIVE UP

A long line of crying-face emojis

She’s a gold digger

SHE’S WEARING THE NECKLACE AGAIN ASKADFLASKGHSGKHSA

She is like a little peach, I am so in love with their love

Omg I bet she’s going to the Gala with him and I will not survive those photos

A long line of yellow heart and celestial sun emojis

Kenzie looked at the comments over his shoulder as he scrolled down. “Marissa Montague, like the actress? The one who does romcoms and Lifetime movies?” Kenzie looked at him with a puzzled expression. “There are people who want you to be with her?”

Duncan blushed involuntarily, glancing at her. “Yeah. Her fans are pretty strange. They come to red carpets and try to make me sign photos of her. She and I were running in similar circles for awhile…”

Kenzie squinted at him, and her lips fell in a closed line. “Oh, really.”

“We went on a few dates. She’s...deeply superficial. She usually talked about her endorsement deals.”

Kenzie narrowed her eyes even further, half-facetiously pulling her hand out of his. “Oh. A few.”

“Baby, don’t,” Duncan reached for her and pressed his lips into her neck. Kenzie sat stiffly for a moment, then leaned into his mouth, giggling. “That tickles, I’m gonna unleash these puppies on you.” She wiggled her fingers into his throat and he jumped back, laughing. He slipped her phone back into her lap, his hand resting on her thigh. “It didn’t fucking mean anything. It was years ago. I had a lot of meaningless relationships for a long time. Now it seems like it was in another life.”

“Oh, you’re so important, so many sordid love affairs--”

“Kenzie…” Duncan pressed into her again, hand falling up her hip, biting gently down on her right ear lobe, breathing into her neck. “I love you.” She pulled his face up into hers and Duncan’s nerves simmered into low fire; “I love you too, baby,” she whispered into him. “And you’re mine, aren’t you, baby--” “Yes, yes, Kenzie, fuck yes, I’m all yours--”

The memory of Duncan’s anger became a distant pinprick of light in his mind as Kenzie’s hands fell through his hair, his lifting up to cup her breasts through the fabric of the dress, pushing the cardigan from her shoulders so he could feel the bare skin of her arms; the rain fell against the windows and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the blood rushing through his limbs, into his groin, as her tongue fell against his and the sweet smell of roses and vetiver filled his nose and his senses and it felt like the sun was out and warm on his skin, rain be damned.

------

The paps were out in full force again; Duncan turned to look over his shoulder as Samuel pulled up to One Franklin Square, out of Kenzie’s languid embrace (his lips had been on her neck again and she was threading her fingers through his hair), and saw them milling around towards the entrance. None of them seemed to have noticed the BMW yet, though.

“Samuel and I will be back to pick you up around 4:30 so we can go home and change for dinner, okay?” He turned back to Kenzie, whose eyes were bright, staring at him with pent desire from his kisses. Her hangover seemed to have dissipated in the car ride; maybe it was the green smoothie and the vitamins, maybe it was something else, he thought, pressing his lips against hers again, his hand falling down her golden-chestnut hair one more time. The partition floated down and Duncan willed it to go back up; not yet, he begged internally. Just a little bit longer, her hair and her body under my hands, I just want to look at her in this dress with its tiny red flowers, look at the gold moon around her throat, the curve of her collarbones, her smiling at me this way, her cheeks with that glow, her mouth swollen with my kisses. “I’ll email Ben Wilder today about the interview. And everything is gonna be fine, baby. I promise.”

“Okay.” Harris was already coming around the passenger side of Kenzie’s door, his sharp eyes scanning the doorway, counting the number of paps; he pulled the door open and said “Miss Mackenzie, time to go,” and Kenzie kissed Duncan with a small desperation again, and then she slipped away from him and he felt that ache, the one that always accompanied her leaving now, the feeling that a piece of him was ripped away and there was a hole, gaping, an open wound smarting in the air. He watched, eyes taking on that stormy shade (though he couldn’t see it himself), as Harris carefully pressed a hand into her back to shield her, and several paps noticed her coming toward the entrance now, rushing up to her. He couldn’t make out their words from the half-distance, now, but there were camera flashes and he watched a microphone come under her and she turned away from it, her golden hair bouncing behind her in the gray light (the rain had stopped a few minutes before and the ground was shiny with water, the sky still overcast), clutching the strap of her satchel closer against her, Harris coming between them, covering her with an expert precision, and he could vaguely hear more questions being shouted at her though he couldn’t make them out, and then she was inside and the paps were standing against the windows, cameras still clicking, peering after her, some of them turning around to snap photos of the BMW as Samuel hit the gas pedal and the car drifted away. Duncan continued to look back, his hand coming up to his chin, against his mouth. She’s so brave. My Kenzie. She’s so brave and so strong and she’s doing so well and I love her so much, I love how brave she is, how fearless, the proud look that comes into her eyes, the way she lifts her chin and pushes forward. Mom is going to pitch a fit to me about that article, but that was so brave of her, she could have gotten into so much hot water there if she got caught, my girlfriend is a stone cold badass and I’m not sure I’m good enough for her.

As if on cue, Duncan’s phone chimed out a text. Mom.

That article is in DIRECT opposition to our objectives. Did you know she was writing that?

No, Duncan replied, curtly. I did not know until this morning when she told me it was being published today. She got the assignment before we met.

Mom: We will talk about this when you get here. Nothing else.

“How are you these days, Mr. Shepherd?” Samuel’s voice floated back to him, soothing, soft, the music turned low.

“Wildly in love, thanks, Samuel,” Duncan smiled at him with a burst of genuine feeling. “But Kenzie’s meeting Annette tonight and I’m....concerned. About how she’ll be treated. And my temper. Which I’ve already lost once today.”

“Your love for each other will overcome any obstacle. If you will it, it will become reality. It will soften the heart of even Annette Shepherd when she sees it, who also loves you very much, of that I am certain.”

“Thank you, Samuel. Can we stop at English Rose Garden before we get to Shepherd Hall, please? I want to get something for Kenzie.”

“Certainly, Mr. Shepherd.”

--------

There was a bouquet of a dozen dark red roses wrapped carefully in black tissue paper beside Duncan in the backseat of the BMW when they pulled up to Shepherd Hall; the inner lining of the tissue had a layer of very thin plastic wrap and several wet cloths around the bottom of the stems to keep them from wilting. Duncan grasped them carefully where the stems gathered, stepping out of the car and passing them carefully to Samuel in the front seat, the better to keep an eye on them; Duncan imagined coming into Shepherd Hall with a bouquet of roses that wasn’t for his mother and the cold look of disbelief in her eyes. Shouldn’t press my luck today, things are going to be bad enough already. He nodded to Samuel gratefully and straightened, looking towards the entrance; there was plenty of press milling around it, but most of them were clearly associated press with clearly labeled passes around their necks, going in and out of Shepherd Hall, waiting for the press conference to start. Duncan wondered absently why his mother had demanded he be there at all, it was, after all, just a dedication for the new Dance Center; just to exert her will over me, I think, show her she can still make me do what she wants and to get back at me for posting photos of Kenzie. Get used to it, Mom. There’s lots more to come.

...So much for not pressing my luck, he scolded himself.

He adjusted the collar and cuffs of his mock neck shirt, discarding the light jacket he wore, opening the door to the backseat of the BMW again and tossing it onto the leather upholstery; the day was still overcast, but the rain was forecast to be over for now and the air was muggy, misty with hanging moisture and an early-summer breeze. Duncan appreciated the coolness of the breeze through his hair; his skin had started to prickle with an odd sense of foreboding, no doubt kindled by his apprehension at seeing his mother. I wish Kenzie were here now, he thought. I want everyone at this press conference to know who I’m with now, and I want them to know that nothing my mother or my uncle say or do will take her away from me. Duncan was aware Bill had a round of chemo scheduled for today; he didn’t leave the house much anymore regardless, and Duncan only tended to see him when he went there to report about an episode or the app or some other kind of feedback on the enterprises of Shepherd Unlimited. Good thing, too, because if my mother disapproves of Kenzie, Bill probably wants to hire a hitman to take her out by now. Duncan shivered at the thought; not a unlikely as one might hope. Bill almost never communicated with him directly; his uncle used Annette as a mediator between the two of them, having never particularly warmed to Duncan, it seemed, for one reason or another. It was also the reason, Duncan suspected, that Annette was going to push to have Bill sign his Will over to Duncan only when he was too sick, too far gone, to protest. The truth of that gave Duncan an nauseous feeling whenever he contemplated it, but Bill Shepherd was not a particularly nice man, and Duncan didn’t feel as bad about all of it as he might have with someone who hadn’t treated him like he was a nuisance for most of his life. His mother loved him; Bill Shepherd barely tolerated him.

Duncan stepped towards the glass doors of Shepherd Hall; several members of the press milling around that area turned towards him with recognition. Duncan pretended to stare down at his phone; he saw Gretchen Friedrichs approaching him out of the corner of his eye in a tulip-yellow sheath dress, a black-and-white striped blazer and very pointy black Louboutins, their red undersides stark in the gray daylight, her long platinum hair bouncing against her back, her smile too big and too white, a press pass swinging around her neck. Stay calm, Duncan demanded to himself. You already snapped on Gary Spencer, don’t let Gretchen get to you too.

“Duncannnnn,” she purred, and Duncan winced, his eyes narrowing just slightly, his eyes sliding over to her. “My, my, haven’t we been the busy boy.”

“Gretchen,” he said through clenched teeth, walking fast. “I think I recall telling you I wouldn’t be doing anymore interviews for Patriot Watch. Funny, I ran into Gary Spencer morning, as they say, outside of my residence, an area that’s off-limits to all of you, which I’m quite sure he was already aware of...you, of course, wouldn’t know anything about that, I’m sure.”

“What would Gary being doing at your building?” Gretchen said in an obnoxiously high octave, faux-appalled. “He really should know better, shouldn’t he?”

Duncan went up to the door, waving a little at the press members he recognized but ignoring their requests for comments; he went to move inside but Gretchen slipped in ahead of him, “Oh, thanks, Duncan, what a gentleman!” she murmured, flashing her teeth at him again; like a giant cat about to rip a warm animal apart, he thought. He tried to move past her in the carpeted, quiet interior of the foyer; he knew the press conference was in the 120-capacity room downstairs across from the newly minted Shepherd Memorial Theater, which would feature much of the Dance School’s performances, but Gretchen continued to trot beside him in her Louboutins, somehow able to keep pace with him despite his long stride.

“So that article from little Miss Stone in the Post this morning is really something, Duncan,” she said as she trotted along beside him, and he glared at her. Duncan, keep your fucking temper, don’t do it, don’t let her get to you. “Care to comment? Anything to say? Did you know she was going to write such an incendiary indictment of the financial spheres of political process?”

He was silent; she’d tried to bait him with that last bit, and he’d almost replied, but Duncan bit into the side of his cheek to stop himself. Duncan kept his long stride up and Gretchen was falling behind. She barked at him again.

“Isn’t it going to interfere with the Shepherd-funded Future Act?”

“Gretchen, I’m going to say this as kindly and as clearly as I possibly can: Fuck. Off. Right. Now.”

“Or what, Mr. Shepherd?” Gretchen stared at him, her eyes flashing. She stopped her trotting, and Duncan continued away from her, not turning.

“Or I’m going to get her to write something about you.”

“Is that a threat?”

Duncan said nothing and continued to walk away from her, his mind seething.

“See you at the Gala, Duncan.” Duncan glanced back to see Gretchen standing there with her arms crossed, a smirk plastered to her face. “You and that sweet little piece of ass.” Duncan clenched his teeth at that, balling his hand into a fist, grasping the handle of the side-door to the conference room, yanking it open, not looking back at her again. I’ve thrown Kenzie into a pit of vipers, haven’t I. These people will try to get at her any way they can. I have to do everything in my power to be the buffer between them. God, I need to calm the fuck down. Threatening Gretchen Friedrichs is just going to make it worse.

He looked up; he saw Erik sitting nonchalantly in a styling chair in the corner, languidly scrolling through his phone, but Annette was nowhere to be seen, at least, not yet.

“Hey, Erik,” he said, trying to keep his tone even. He pushed what had just transpired with Friedrichs to the back of his mind; time to put on a face for his mother.

“Well, well, well,” Erik glanced up at him without moving his shiny, bald head. He wore a long chiffon lavender-colored scarf around his neck today and had false eyelashes on. His nails were carefully manicured. “The man whose name is on everyone’s lips. Prince Duncan. You should see how pissed off you’ve managed to make your poor mother. Come, sit over here, let’s have a look at you. Photos, you know. Not that you ever need much work, Your skin is looking absolutely radiant. All that good sex, I’m sure.”

Duncan came over to the styling chair, blushing, Erik standing and pushing Duncan down into it, hands immediately coming up to Duncan’s hair; the older man sighed, smiling down at him. “This hair. Forgive me, dear, but having none of my own, I always get a special thrill when I get to touch it.”

“Touch away, Erik. On a scale of 1 to 10, how angry is Annette right now?”

“I’d say 12 is the low estimate.” Erik pushed the pump on a bottle of product that sat on the styling table nearby, a mirror built into the wall behind it, smoothing it between his very clean fingers and pressing it languidly through Duncan’s hair. “She could be at 15, you know how she is. It’s usually hiding until someone says the wrong thing. Which is usually Bill Shepherd’s department. You’re always her golden boy, but gracious me, baby, lately, you are stirring the pot, aren’t you? Instagram, gossip sites, snapping at paparazzi, endless photos. Young love. I’ll tell you right now, I’m in your corner. She’s undoubtedly a little flower. I can’t wait to come up with some confection for her tomorrow.”

“I love her, Erik.”

“Sure you do, pumpkin. Of course.”

Duncan looked down at his phone; a text from Kenzie.

I forgot to give you Ben’s contact before, so here it is. He won’t leave me alone, please email him, thank you for doing this, I love you. Some of those paps tried to get into the building a little while ago but security escorted them back out. Harris is hanging out upstairs with me and everyone loves him! I think Ben is going to steal him. Hope everything is going okay bb. Wanted to text you before the press conference. Can’t wait for today to be over. She’d added an exasperated-face emoji and a red heart at the end. The second text as was a contact bubble: Ben Wilder.

Haven’t seen Mom yet, Duncan replied, --but have been told she’s pretty upset. I will do anything I can to calm her down before tonight. I love you so much, baby. If she says anything unkind to you, please try to let it roll off you. She won’t mean it, because she doesn’t know you yet. I’ll email Ben right now.

Duncan opened his email and addressed it to: benwilder@washingtonpost.com, from: duncanshepherd@shepherdunlimited.com. Attn: Ben Wilder, Features Editor, Washington Post. Hey Ben. Mackenzie mentioned that you were interested in an interview. I’m happy to sit down with you sometime next week, provided she is there as well; she can decide whether or not she wants to participate, but I want her to sit in. Tuesday works best for me, but I could make some time on Wednesday afternoon as well. Let me know. Regards, Duncan Shepherd. He hit send and lowered his phone; the door swung to, and Annette Shepherd walked into the room, trailed closely by Seth Grayson.

She turned; her eyes fell on him with a measured, gradual acrimony, her slender, beautiful face falling downwards to a regal discomfort, her perfectly waved hair around her shoulders, framing her striking beauty; he had often thought his mother grew even more beautiful as she aged. As ever, Annette was immaculately dressed; for the press conference she was wearing a Diane von Furstenberg dark cobalt silk wrap dress, with a diamond pattern print across it falling to a earthward slant, and low Stuart Weitzman sand-colored suede pumps. As usual, she had no necklace; only the round diamond studs she wore so often, and a thin band of gold around one wrist.

“Duncan,” she breathed, and Seth retreated to a corner, staring at his phone as though whatever he saw there was wildly engrossing.

“Mom.”

“Do you realize how damaging that article could be?” Annette advanced on him, her fingers coming together in front of her in a fist; Duncan stayed in the styling chair, trying not to react. “The bill likely wouldn’t go through at this juncture, regardless, but now? Claire Underwood frankly refuses to sign it, and she’s going to push Gallagher through--Bill could not persuade her to see things as Frank did, confirming our worst fears.”

“Mom.”

“How can this be happening, I keep asking myself. How can my only son, my pride, my joy, be disobeying me and disregarding me so utterly? How can he be saddling himself to the daughter of a woman who would love nothing more than to see my enterprises and my work crumble into dust? How can he?”

“Mom.”

“Let me guess. You love her.”

Duncan said nothing. He stared at his mother; her eyes were cold, shining like twin candle flames in a dark room. He remembered times when she’d been angry with him as a child again; in that gaze he felt minute and impermanent, loveless and discarded. Or he had. Now, he knew that no matter his mother’s anger, she did love him; sometimes she hoarded that love, kept it from him, but he knew it was there. And Kenzie loves me. Even if Mom didn’t love me anymore; even if she cut me off without a penny, even if she pretended she didn’t anymore. Kenzie loves me. She does. And I love her. Loving her is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me; everything we’ve done, Mom, pales dreadfully in comparison.

Erik stood to the side, observing them with his hand pressed to his face, lips pursed. Now, he interjected.

“Annette, surely you must remember what it’s like to be young.”

“Erik, with all due respect, shut the hell up.” Annette glared at him, crossing her arms.

“Whatever I say clearly won’t make you happy,” Duncan said. “But I’m humbly asking that you treat her with respect over dinner tonight, Mom. It would mean a lot to me if you could be kind to her.”

Annette scoffed. “As kind as her article was to our interests, surely. As kind as her mother has been to me on public stages, of course.”

“Since you’ve always been so kind to Madeline, fucking Medusa.”

Annette’s mouth clamped shut at that; she seethed at him, suddenly reminding him of himself a moment ago with Gretchen in the hallway. I am my mother’s son, he thought. We’re both horribly stubborn and we both have bad tempers, and we both refuse to retreat.

“I spoke to her, you know,” she spat, pacing back and forth in front of Duncan, but still staring at him. “As arrogant as ever, as presumptive; as overconfident as I remember her, insisting I can’t “interject in your affairs”--” here, Annette lifted her hands and flexed her index and middle fingers, mimicking a quotation, pausing in her pacing.

“You can’t. Not when it comes to this.”

Annette stared at him; Duncan thought her face would melt, the anger in her eyes as so immediate and intense. She said nothing; her mouth hung open a little, clearly too flabbergasted to reply.

“It’s five after 3,” Seth said, quietly but firmly. “The press conference was supposed to start five minutes ago.”

Annette looked away from Duncan; to Erik for a moment, then into space, her thoughts unreadable. “Get up, Seth.” Grayson lept up. “Duncan. You must contain her. Come.” With this statement, Annette walked across the room and yanked the opposite door open; the door that led to the conference room. Duncan followed her out, his stride pointed, determined to keep his expression neutral and his resolve stony. First, we’ll get through this. Then, we’ll get through tonight.

------

Duncan glanced impatiently at his Movado as the press conference began to wind down; it was almost 4 and he had felt his phone vibrate in his pocket about fifteen minutes ago, in the middle of a long answer from his mother about the scholarships for the Dance School the Foundation was setting up. He began to feel convinced through some unseen sixth sense that the text was from Kenzie, and that it was something important. Annette had managed to hide her annoyance from the press for the duration; it was being taped, and my mother is nothing if not professional, Duncan thought, hand coming up to his jaw to rub there, but when she looked at him over the past hour it was with a dark gaze that made the back of his neck tingle with apprehension. What are you planning, Mom.

“I have a question for Duncan,” Duncan heard someone say; it was Gretchen Friedrichs. Oh no. “Do you plan to have your girlfriend, Mackenzie Stone, on the show soon? It’s ranked second as of now in cable news, and as a journalist for The Washington Post, I think she’d bring a...unique perspective.” Gretchen smiled with all her teeth. “The two of you have been a trending topic on Twitter and Instagram for three days--”

Annette balked visibly and she feigned looking at the clock hanging in the corner of the room, “It looks like we’re out of time for more questions, what a shame,” she said to Gretchen, cutting her off, her smile overwarm. She stood and walked to where Duncan sat, pushing on the long sleeve of his shirt. Get up, Duncan, her hand said. Duncan went to obey her, then for a moment, he couldn’t fathom what to do, his legs seemingly turned to lead; Gretchen was staring at him with that grin, and his mind went hazy with anger.

“Mackenzie is busy with her own projects right now,” he said, and felt the cold pinch of Annette’s fingers digging into the skin of his upper arm. “But eventually I hope for us to work together in a professional capacity, yes.”

The room erupted in voices, other press members shouting their questions out at him across the room (“What does her editorial from this morning indicate for the goals of Shepherd Unlimited?” Will we see a partnership between the Post and Shepherd Unlimited?” “Will she be attending the Gala with you?” “What do you think of her mother’s political statements in the past?”, ‘Annette, does this mean you and Madeline Stone have reconciled?”, “Will you have Madeline Stone on the show?” “Is the implication of leftist politics an indication of the future of Shepherd Unlimited?”); Duncan could feel Annette’s fingers dig in even further, painfully, and he stood, shaking his arm out of the pincer-like grip of his mother’s hand. She stalked after him through the side-door; Seth coming through after them (“no more questions, no more questions,” Duncan heard him say, breathlessly, to the room), half-running, leaning against it with a hard snap as if there were a pack of wolves after him.

“Have you lost your mind?” Annette’s hands came up and grasped at the collar of Duncan’s shirt; Duncan gently pulled her hands away and stepped back from her; she had sputtered out the words as if they were making her sick.

“Mom. I told you. You can’t stop this.”

“Oh, I can’t? What if I pull the plug on the show?”

“You heard Gretchen; it’s got one of the highest viewer ratings on cable news. We both know you won’t do that.”

“What has gotten into you? It’s like you’re possessed,” Annette stared at him, a wild light behind her eyes again; instead of anger, though, he now saw something else there; a kind of panic, a disorientated alarm, and one more thing...a dawning recognition. “What is wrong with you?”

“I have to go pick up Kenzie now. I’ll see you in a few hours for dinner, Mom.”

With that, Duncan turned and walked away from her, not waiting for a reply, through the opposite door, down the carpeted hallway and foyer of Shepherd Hall, skirting around the press members who had begun to file out of the conference room, ignoring their shouts to him; he quickened his pace to a jog, feeling as though he were suddenly suffocating, and pressed through the entrance, running out to the BMW, yanking the back door open, sliding in and slamming it behind him. Samuel glanced back at him in concern as Duncan pulled his phone out of his pocket, breathlessly, staring down at it; a missed call and a text from Kenzie. Her text was odd, like she’d typed it all out without really reading it or pausing.

a man managed to get upstairs past security somehow and harris was in the bathroom and he grabbed me by the arm and tried to drag me into the hallway je was rambling abot Shepherd unlimited taking everything away from him so he was going to take something away from the Shepherds and i’m ok but haris did this thing to him where he hit him in the throat like it was ju jitsu or something i don’t know and the man fell on the ground unconscious the cops are her ad i had to give a statemtn but i’m okay but baby oh my god oh my god

“FUCK.” Duncan felt his anger and panic reach a crashing crescendo that fell over him in a suffocating wave; he suddenly, with a removed anguish that felt almost involuntary, punched the bulletproof, tinted glass of the window, the pain immediate and scattering along his knuckles like it had been smashed in a door, and Duncan winced, biting his lip hard, clutching his palm over the fist his hand was still stuck in. “Fuck! Fuck!”

“Mr. Shepherd, tell me where to go,” Samuel looked back at him with an alarmed expression; it was nearly impossible to break the glass of the BMW’s windows, and Duncan knew his chauffeur wasn’t worried about the car, rather the likelihood that Duncan had broken a bone in his hand. Duncan wasn’t prone to displays of physical anger; what he had just done wasn’t something Samuel had witnessed from the younger man since he was a willful teenager.

“One Franklin Square, Samuel, hurry, someone tried to hurt Kenzie,” Duncan said, and the desperation in his voice was enough to send sharp spears of icy cold fear down into his stomach. Samuel said nothing, only laid his foot flat on the gas, the BMW peeling away from the curb and accelerating rapidly, speeding towards downtown. Duncan felt wildly sick, suddenly, and he willed his stomach to settle, willed his nerves to even, feeling dizzying nausea behind his throat. Oh god, someone tried to hurt Kenzie, his hand clutched to his jaw, his eyes dazed. Oh god, someone--

“Mr. Shepherd, she is brave. I’m sure she is alright. Steel yourself to be brave for her too.”

Duncan sucked his breath in, harshly, heart slamming. “Yes. Okay. Hurry, Samuel, please, just hurry.”

He typed quickly, pressing send. Baby, I’m coming now, I’m so sorry, I was stuck in that stupid fucking press conference, I’m coming, we’ll be there in two minutes...

------

Two minutes and fifty seconds later the BMW screeched up to the curb and Duncan threw the door open, noticing there were still several paps milling around the entrance; he saw red again, felt the seething-hot urge to hit one of them. No, stop thinking about what you want, whatever you think you need. Kenzie needs you, stop being so fucking self-absorbed, he thought. Find her. That’s all that matters.

He ran past them; their shouts to him sounded like they were underwater, his ears blocked by the sound of his heart pounding, and he rushed through the doors, throwing himself at the receptionist’s desk; “Which floor is Mackenzie Stone on,” he asked breathlessly; the receptionist was a young girl with a dark, short bob haircut and navy eyeshadow; her eyes widened in recognition at him, her mouth popping open. “Duncan Shepherd,” she whispered. “Mackenzie. Stone. Which. Floor.” Duncan breathed out each word pointedly, his hand coming around the flat screen of her desktop computer and pressing his index finger at the directory searchbar. She blinked at him again, then said “10, all the resident journalists are on that floor--” and he launched himself away from the desk to where the elevators stretched a yard or so down the foyer. One of the doors slid open as he ran up; oh merciful Fates, thank you; he skirted past the surprised woman who exited, fingers slamming against the 10 button, and she peered around the corner of the elevator doors at him as they slid shut, clearly recognizing him. “Come on, come on, come on,” Duncan muttered as the elevator seemed to climb with excruciating slowness; no one else got in the elevator, though, thank you merciful and benevolent Fates thank you, and finally the doors slid open to the 10th floor.

Duncan’s eyes swung wildly back and forth and laid almost instantly against the back corner where Harris’ distinctly large form sat in an office chair, pulled up against a small desk, behind which the shivering figure of his Kenzie sat, her chestnut hair shaking in the gray day’s light; her hands were clutched around her arms and her face was tear-stained, her eyes closed, eliciting a terrible ache from the center of his body that threatened to burst his heart. He ran out of the elevator and past two women (one white, tall and thin with very long, straight hair, one black and very curvy, with a curly weave) who stared at him with shocked expressions in their eyes, down the short walkway of desks to Kenzie’s; her eyes lifted up to him and her lip trembled, tears falling immediately down her cheeks, sending daggers into his heart again; Kenzie (oh my Kenzie) stood, pushing her desk chair back and launching herself into his arms, an aching sob escaping from her lips as she pressed her face into his black shirt, and he could feel the wetness of her tears soak through to his bare skin. He pushed his face into her head, into her hair, and heard his voice whisper “Shhh, shhh baby, I’m here, I’m so sorry, I’m here now, are you okay, are you alright--” and his hand fell down, feeling her body, trying to find anything wrong, any sign of physical harm; no, she wasn’t hurt, her little body pressing into him, but she was sobbing with a terrible relief that threatened him with tears too, and Duncan bit his lip to stave his own away.

“Mr. Shepherd, I can’t say how sorry I am, I’ve failed you in my duties--” Harris looked up at them, his sepia eyes clouded.

“Harris, no, failed? No. You’re the reason Kenzie is safe. Please. Don’t. Thank you. I can’t thank you enough. Whatever we’re paying you, I’m doubling it. I’m tripling it.”

“Thank you, Harris,” Kenzie whispered, her voice still tinged with a sob and muffled against Duncan’s shirt, her arms twined around him tightly, her body shaking. “Thank you.” Harris stared at her for a moment, his expression one of anguish, of distress; then it softened, and affection seeped into his gaze, and he nodded, blinking, quiet.

“Baby, I’m so sorry, I was in that stupid conference and I couldn’t look at my phone, but I felt my phone vibrate and I had this terrible feeling, this feeling like it was you and something terrible happened, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t here--” Duncan’s mouth was pressed into the side of her hair, and he clutched her with desperate relief, speaking quietly down to her ear. Kenzie shook her head against him, the golden waves making him ache; Duncan buried his fingers in her hair, lifting her little face up to him, thumbs pressing the tears gently away, kissing her softly. “It’s not your fault, baby, I’m just so glad you’re here now, I’m so glad you’re here.” Kenzie pressed her face against him again. “They took the man away--I--I don’t know where they took him…” Duncan cradled her against him, the warm feeling of her little body filling him with terrible, overwhelming emotion; none of them said anything, and eventually Kenzie began to quiet, her sobs fading into hiccups, hiccups fading into deep breaths, and then even ones. The two women Duncan had passed looked back at them, whispering quietly to each other; Duncan tried to ignore them. Kenzie leaned back from him, wiping at her eyes with a little hand, sniffling again. “We need to go to dinner now,” she said, and Duncan tried to protest--”baby, are you okay, are you gonna be okay to do that--” and she cut him off. “I need to meet Annette. I’m not waiting anymore.”

Duncan looked at Harris for a moment; the larger man nodded slightly, his expression difficult to read, and yet Duncan felt he understood what the man was trying to say, anyway. Do what Kenzie says. She’s in charge. “Okay, Kenzie.” She pushed out of his arms and pressed the sleeves of the black cardigan against her eyes for a moment, dabbing away the residue of her tears, and shut her Macbook, which had been pushed at an odd angle to the side of her desk, sliding it into her satchel carefully. She straightened, reached for a tissue from a box beside a little rustic sun and moon statue on the desk; then, she turned to him, slung her bag over her shoulder, and said “Let’s go.” Harris stood, coming around her to her back, protectively; she threaded her fingers through Duncan’s, and pulled him toward the elevator; Duncan followed obediently, in awe of her. She is the most amazing person I have ever known.

--------

Kenzie had folded herself into Duncan in the backseat on the way back to the penthouse; her little body sighing against him in the crook under his arm, her spot, that place she was torn away from me once, back at the beginning of time, her face, red from crying, her cheeks hot against him, his hand trailing at the soft tulip sleeves over her shoulders, the warm skin of her arm and down to her elbow and back, through the strands of her hair, gentle, rhythmic. Neither of them spoke; Duncan couldn’t bring himself to ask her for more details of what had happened, loathe to bring her to tears again; somehow he knew she would tell him later, tell him everything, when they were alone and holding each other in the darkness of their bedroom, their bed, their secret place that belonged only to them. Duncan considered trying to persuade Kenzie that they should cancel dinner with his mother; but no, he knew, that can’t happen and it won’t, because we have to do this, we have to make my mother understand, Annette needs to understand that no one and nothing can tear us away from each other. Nothing and no one but death itself. It’s long past time she knows; really knows.

Duncan helped Kenzie out of the car and she was quiet now; her breathing slow and even, her eyes gazing at him with a clearer expression, some of her shock having faded; the day was still overcast and it seemed as though it might rain again, darker clouds coming in from the west. He followed her inside to the elevator; Jerry nodded to them, seeming to notice their solemn mood, and Anchaly looked up from his desk, his eyes crinkling at Kenzie’s tear-reddened cheeks. Duncan noticed he still had his copy of Tropic of Cancer, his finger pressed between the pages, near the end; “Human beings make a strange fauna and flora,” he murmured to the older man as they passed. Anchaly raised his eyebrows, and looked back to the book, clearly content in the mystery of the moment. Kenzie slipped inside the elevator and Duncan followed her carefully; she pressed into him as the doors shut, raising her lips up into his, and he held her, tenderly, his mind and heart aching at the thought that she could have been hurt today, something could have happened to her; “I’m so glad you’re okay, baby, Kenzie, I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you,” he whispered as the elevator climbed, and he glanced to the long mirror inside, where she was now staring at the shape of them pressed together, his lips against the side of her face, and he thought of The Kiss by Klimt again, thought of its gold paint and her gold, her endless gold, bright even in her sadness and her shock, bright in spite of anything that would try to dim her. Kenzie didn’t say anything, but again he felt he could somehow feel the drift of her thoughts: I love you, Duncan, and I will be brave because I love you so much, I love you and I will be brave in the face of my fear because love is stronger and it is more and it is the only thing, I know that now, I will make Annette understand, we’ll make her understand--

Once back in the penthouse, they went quietly to the bedroom, discarding their clothing from the day carelessly; for a moment, Kenzie pressed against him again as they stood in the walk-in closet, in only her bra and underwear, Duncan in only his briefs; she sighed, and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed with the feeling of their bare skin against each other; he longed to draw her mouth into his again, longed to press his fingers down into the sweetness of her clit and soothe her with ecstasy, but he knew that when they fucked again it would need to come from her, it would have to be at her bidding, and he resolved himself to be patient; “I hate that this has been so much to bear for you--” he spoke quietly down into her ear, and she shook it against his mouth, shook her head so her lips brushed against his ribs, making him shiver; “I’d do it a thousand times more to be with you,” she murmured, and he held back the tears he felt warming his senses; his mind ached, and he felt that any words were not enough for how he felt towards her in that moment; “I love you,” he said, quiet, into her ear, and he felt her lips smile into his skin. She pulled away from him, bringing the dress they’d picked out yesterday down from the hanger where they stood in the walk-in closet; he turned, pulling on one of his dozens of pairs of tailored slacks, one of line of a two-dozen black dress shirts that hung on his side (and her side over there, her side with its softness and color and her there); “Baby, zip me up,” he heard her little voice say, and he turned to her hair pulled over her shoulder, the bare nape of her neck facing him, and he pressed his mouth into her there and felt her shiver, his hands coming down around her waist to press at her hips, and he ached for the darkness of their bed, ached for the sweet embrace of night to come. He zipped her up carefully and she turned to him, smiling despite the residue of her tears still lingering, then she went into the bathroom and Duncan buttoned his shirt, watching her back, the little sequined black dress hugging her small frame, her little face in the mirror as she pressed a small compact against her cheeks to hide the redness as he pulled on one of his velvet cocktail blazers, the smell of her drifting around him like a song. Kenzie emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, dark eyeshadow on her eyelids, dark burgundy lipstick at her mouth, the Tiffany moon around her neck again; she lifted her hands to it as she stared at him, and she said “your love, to give me strength.” She had the little black clutch in her hand, the one she had the night they met on that rosy balcony a week ago (only a week, no, it’s been a year, it’s been years, ages, and it’s been no time at all) and pointed black pumps on her small feet; they lifted her about level to his shoulder, and he was struck again by how small she was, even in heels.

Duncan nodded, too overwhelmed again to speak, reaching out for her, gathering her up in his arms. She fingered his Movado, staring down at it. “Time to go, baby,” she said, lifting her face up to him, kissing him softly. Duncan leaned into her; he thought of how he’d run away from his mother this afternoon, defiant and angry, and toward Kenzie, who could have so easily been hurt today, and he turned his face the better to kiss her, relief flooding through him again. He felt her smile into him again; heard her laugh into him, her tears now faded and her skin cool and soft, and the relief rebounded and echoed into the lining of him. Fortune is still smiling. It has protected us all this way, maybe it can even convince my mother. Maybe even that.

-----

Back in the car Duncan handed her the roses he’d bought for her earlier that day; it seemed like it had been years ago when he’d cheerfully picked them out at the florist, dark, deep red and as fresh as if he’d picked them himself. They still looked as lovely as they had when he chose them, thanks to the cool, wet cloths the florists had wrapped around the stems and the top-of-the-line air conditioning in the BMW; thank the Fates, because I forgot about them entirely after Kenzie’s text message, he thought. A radiant smile fell over her face as she took them from him; “Oh, baby, they’re so beautiful,” she murmured, leaning her face up to kiss him again, and he felt relief flood through his body again like dopamine; to see her smile after the sound and feeling of her sobbing into him was like a drug kicking in after excruciating pain. Kenzie held them close in her lap during the ride to the Jefferson, her head leaning softly on his shoulder, her fingers trailing against the silky-soft petals of the flowers, her eyes falling over them again and again; Kenzie seemed to drift away from him for awhile during that car ride (Etta James floating through the speakers tonight; stormy weather, stormy weather...and I just can’t get my poor self together...oh, I’m weary all of the time), and he worried again over the impact her day had had on her; wished they could be alone, fast-forward to later, so she could tell him everything, so he would really know what had happened. As they pulled up to the latticed doorway of the Jefferson, though, Kenzie lifted her head and a studied cautiousness flooded into her eyes. Duncan gazed down at her, struck by it.

“Samuel, please look after my roses, won’t you?” (Harris had gone home for the day; he was officially off the clock until tomorrow morning).

“Miss Mackenzie, of course I will.”

“Thank you. You are so good to me.”

“Miss Mackenzie, please. Of course. You are beloved.”

Kenzie gazed through the partition at Samuel for a moment, and Duncan’s heart felt swollen with the weight of his adoration for her; swollen with the words Samuel had spoken to her. You are beloved. Yes. You are most beloved by me, and those who would keep you and protect you and devote ourselves to you, sweet Kenzie. And I long to be your most devoted.

Duncan helped her out of the car and she passed the roses back to Samuel through the window; a bolt of lightning flashed over them, closely followed by a peal of thunder; rain soon to come. They ran inside as the first drops began to fall, hands tightly clasped, and Duncan was struck by a wild desire to keep running with her; my Kenzie, my dearest one, until the rain drenched them and they could disappear into the night and become new, they could be anonymous again and retreat into a secret hidden place where no one could find them, no one could try to hurt her, no one could be cruel to her, where only beautiful and wonderful things surrounded her, only things devoted to her. The warmth of his thoughts rushed into him and just as quickly rushed away as they entered the foyer of the Jefferson Hotel and moved into the hushed cocoon of Plume, his mother’s favorite; in the past few years Duncan had been here with her over two-dozen times. Once Annette found something she liked, she rarely deviated from it. We are very alike in that way, he thought, squeezing Kenzie’s hand a little. She looked up at him, a nervous smile on her mouth, golden hair falling over her shoulder. The makeup she wore washed away the signs of strain and tiredness he’d seen there earlier, but he knew she still felt those emotions underneath. The dress fit her perfectly, but it almost made her look like someone else; like the version of her Annette would ideally prefer, and that made his heart twinge with discomfort. I know you, Kenzie, I see your gold, and your warmth is so much more than whatever my mother wants. He thought of her flowing black dress with the red flowers today, and wanted to kiss her neck; imagined flowers in her hair again, for the hundredth time, it seemed.

Annette always insisted on dining in the private wine room. It was partitioned from the rest of the dining area by a frosted glass door that hid anything within from prying eyes; usually Duncan felt it was excessive, but tonight, he wanted to keep Kenzie from any further molestation by strangers first and foremost, and was relieved to know they’d be shielded from anyone who might be dining that night. A server (middle-aged with thinning hair and a severe stare) led them carefully to the door, pulling it open for them; his eyes skirted over them with clear recognition, but he said nothing. Duncan turned towards the large wooden table in the center of the room as the server shut the door behind them; and met the cold eyes of Annette Shepherd, cradling her wine glass carefully (Pinot Noir, her preferred beast); they slid off him and zeroed in on Kenzie, like the barrel of a gun at a bullseye. She had changed out of the wrap dress she’d worn for the press conference, and was now in a black sheath dress, tattoo lace cutting away from the black bodice along the neck and arms, extending down to trumpet sleeves at her wrists.

“Mackenzie.”

Duncan’s eyes fell down on her, standing beside him; Kenzie held her clutch in both hands in front of her, against her abdomen; her eyes, gold and tawny green in the low light, staring back at Annette with simmering caution. One of her hands came up to press her fingers along the crescent moon at her throat; Annette’s eyes followed her hand there, and Duncan knew; knew that his mother knew that the necklace was from him. It seemed to kindle some sort of low fire in Annette; she smirked; the smirk he knew so well, far closer to the true incarnation of her mirth than any of her dazzlingly fake smiles on public stages and television. Annette’s real mirth came from a knowledge of her power; how tight her grip on control was. The tighter her grip, the more genuine her mirth.

“Come sit by me, dear.”

Kenzie stepped forward, and Duncan noticed the jut of her chin, the flutter of her eyelids; my brave Kenzie. Kenzie went to the seat on Annette’s left side, pulling the chair out and sitting neatly, keeping her back straight, setting her clutch beside the plate in front of her; she stared down nervously for a moment at the array of forks and spoons around it, then back at Annette, smiling a little; Duncan could see the way she was trying to be sweet, trying to maintain her composure, and it made his chest feel tight. Annette beckoned to Duncan with one perfectly manicured hand; “Duncan, sit over here.” She patted the table on her right side; the seat across from Kenzie, so they’d be facing each other. Duncan bit his lip and considered disobeying for a moment; considered sitting in the seat next to Kenzie. But then he decided against it; it would be better to look at Kenzie’s face, so I know how she’s feeling, he thought. So I know if a moment comes where we need to escape. He came around and sat, looking into Kenzie’s eyes as he did. It’s okay, baby. Everything is going to be okay. I will make sure it is.

“I’ve been so anxious to meet you,” Kenzie said, softly, her eyes leaving Duncan’s and moving into his mother’s; her expression falling a little, one of her little hands coming up to the ends of her hair, seeing the coldness in Annette’s gaze, despite her smile. “I...I’ve wanted to tell you...what a wonderful son you’ve raised. He’s been…”

Kenzie trailed off then, and looked down at her hands. Duncan knew that in that moment she was fighting off tears. Oh my sweet Kenzie, he thought, imagining that he could push his warmth and his energy to her across the table; imagining it was gold and drifting, dust full of calmness and strength and all his love, falling into her, against her, under her skin. Be brave. I love you so.

“I love him.” Duncan could hear the tremor in her voice, but as she said it, it was as if the emotion he wanted to give her; the comfort, the wave of gold; had not only settled into her, but around the table; that it had enveloped the three of them in some sort of invisible cocoon, one that she had pushed out of her being, strengthened by his love and his energy, and made into something greater; something that did not diminish as it was shared, but expounded, resounding like an echo that grew rather than receded. It snatched the breath from his lungs; for a moment, it was as if the air was sucked out of the room. He looked at Kenzie for a moment with wonder--then his gaze fell on his mother, whose expression became unreadable, obtuse, conflicted; Annette said nothing for another long moment, then drank long at her wine glass; she set it down on the table, and brought the napkin on her lap up to her mouth, dabbing carefully. She set the napkin back on her lap and continued to stare at Kenzie; Duncan could see something in her gaze that seemed almost envious, a twinge of jealousy; a kind of longing for something long past and never to be reclaimed. Then it retreated; Annette broke the spell of her judgement, and looked down at her lap, a sigh escaping her lips.

“Mackenzie. My god. You look so much like your mother. When I knew her at school.”

The comment sent a current of shock floating through Duncan’s veins; he knew his mother too well to assume she meant it facetiously or with faux-sweetness. Both Annette and Madeline had been known for their powerful personalities and yes, their beauty, when they had been young. It was one thing to say Kenzie looked like Madeline; it was another to say she looked like the Madeline Annette had once known more intimately. It was true they had never been friends in the strictest sense of the word, but there was a time Annette and Madeline had shared study groups and classes; when they had appraised each other across parties, maybe even shared drunken conversations on late nights. There was a time Madeline and Annette could have been friends, as Madeline had implied herself; Annette had chosen not to accept that friendship, but it wasn’t as if there had never been an inkling of it. No, the truth was, the comment had been a genuine one from Annette; suddenly, the air in the room, coming off Annette like pheromones, had shifted from hostility to a kind of heavy resignation.

Annette turned to Duncan, and he noticed the change in her expression now, too. Her eyes, which had a moment ago been full of coiled inference, were soft with surrender. What had prompted it was unclear to him; but the coldness she had shown him today seemed to dissolve in this moment, and Duncan felt that there would likely never be another chance as fortuitous as this one, somehow, to convince her of the sincerity of his desires.

“Mom. This is my Kenzie. I love her...so very much. Please, give us your blessing. If you would, it would mean the world to me.”

Annette was silent again, for what felt like an eon, her hand coming up to fiddle with one of her diamond earrings, looking away from both of them, as though she had forgotten something important. The waiter opened the frosted glass door; Annette shook her head at him and he retreated, the door shutting with a snap. Kenzie’s eyes (so bright, so beautiful, so full of her essence, her loveliness, her kindness, her goodness) reached across to him as Annette remained this way, and her smile to him was like the flowers bursting into bloom at the true dawn of spring; he felt utterly overcome by her again (and again and again), and wished he could reach her to touch her, anxious to be closer to her.

“If this is really what you...want...Duncan.” Annette’s voice seemed puzzled; her stony composure, usually so resolute, had fractured somehow, abruptly; she seemed lost in the sincerity that drifted between them, seemed to shrink from it, then, with disbelief, Duncan noticed the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

“It is, Mom. It really is.”

She sniffed, drained her wine glass, and looked at Kenzie for another long moment. She did not smile, but she said, quietly, “Very well. I...understand. I see. And because you are my greatest joy, Duncan, I will permit you yours. You...have my blessing. Now. Pour me another glass of wine.”

[xtswifts]

in all my years on tumblr, this is still one of my favorite gifs of tay in existence, so i shall use it now on my mega ooc appreciation post.

i am still on hiatus — it has been a ROUGH 36 hours my dudes — but i did want to drop in and post some ic/ooc appreciation things while this week is still here because i am all in the business of sharing the love. it’s one of the many reasons i absolutely adore this group. this group has always been about love, for me, and would probably be the singular word i’d use to describe my experience here.

i joined this lovely bunch back in july, i do believe? i had actually just finished up writing and self-publishing my third book which wound up being a behemoth (seriously it was a lot) and while i was absolutely and completely braindead when it came to writing, i still wanted to write. i’m a writer. that’s who i am and that’s who i’ll always be. i wanted something a lot more low-stakes, kind of go-with-the-flow, no real pressure and more collaborative than the isolating fun of novel-writing, so i turned back to roleplay. hollywood rps have always been my absolute favorites in the rpc for whatever reason; i have such fond memories in hollywood groups and it’s a fun and creative way for me to just project the love i have for my faves. after a few experiences in groups during late 2017 and early 2018 i was pretty sure that i was done with roleplay. it just wasn’t the same for me, no matter where i went. priorities had shifted and it was no longer about writing because you loved to write. but, me being ever the optimist, i decided to dive back into the tags and see what was still around or had recently popped up. i found this group and i saw that they had just had a taylor swift removed from the group, and hi hello nice to meet you i am taylor swift trash no. 1!!!, i felt like it was all Meant To Be or something like that (plus, she was taken in every other group and that’s who i really wanted to put a hand at writing). so i put in an app for her, got accepted, and i have been plaguing your dashes ever since :~))

in the four-ish months that i have been here, so much has happened in my life. i started my (outrageously stressful) junior year of college, i lost my grandma, i went to go see queen swift in atlanta and meet my baby princess camila, i have had major friend complications and doubts about my career track and i have had just really boring, empty days where everything was going seemingly okay. this group has been there for me through every high, low, and in between. this group has been my escape to run to when i’m stressed or up late at night and can’t sleep or just really looking to be social or want to write something. this group has been so welcoming, warm, and fun; i have had the opportunity to explore my character any which way that i please and form awesome plots with people, and even more awesome friendships ooc. some of you send really, really kind things my way which, fyi, i’m super grateful for and have probably cried over because this was the first time i not only felt welcomed in a group as taylor, but felt welcomed in a group as me. i am so grateful that i get to call this place my internet home and there is absolutely nowhere else i would rather be spending my free time writing. i stand by what i say: this is the best group in the tags, hands down. you could not ask for a more inclusive, diverse, welcoming, creative playground to spend your time on. to all the lovely admins over on main @hollywoodfamerp​ thank you for doing the heavy lifting and giving us a safe and warm place that we can call home. the work you do never goes unnoticed. you are appreciated and you are so, so loved. ♡  

some ~personal~ shoutouts:

@nhxran​ — peyton, you are without a doubt one of my best friends both in this group and just in general. we had an immediate chemistry as writing partners from that very first starter reply and nothing about that has changed. you are the writing partner i always hoped i would find in a group due to how generous you are in every reply, the way you are willing to headcanon and brainstorm (even at the craziest of hours) and i still remain in awe of you as a roleplayer with the way you juggle such diverse characters, all of which have their prominent voices that never seem to overlap. you are the roleplayer i wish i could be. even though we might sometimes be ships in the night ic, ooc i know that you are always there and you always have my back, and i truly hope you know that the same goes for you. i love you, you intelligent, creative, witty, beautiful, heart-of-gold woman you. i would not have stayed in this group if i had not met you. you are one of my favorite people, period. thank you for being one of my dearest friends.

@cara-x-delevingne​ — mickey, the first person to ever pop into my ims and say hello (and you were FAST about it too, lol), you have been one of my favorite people to write with! the way you breathe a life into your characters is almost unparalleled to any writer, much less any writer in a hwood group. you have such a talent and not only that, you are funny and kind and inclusive and i am so glad that there are people like you (and you) still out there in this world. we need more people like you. thank you for one of the most epic friendships i’ve ever written in a group and always challenging me to step up to the plate and bring my a-game with taylor. you inspire me and i love you. never change.

@armiehmmer​ — graaaaace, the law to my swift! you were actually one of the reasons i joined this rp; before i joined i stalked a few blogs and as i have told you (and you have probably seen via my wildin’ ass on twitter) i love jen, so much. i saw how dedicated you were to your jen and how included she was, which i thought was amazing because like my girl t, some people just aren’t about. i figured if you could put in the effort and grind hard enough with her and get positive results, i could do the same for taylor. and here we both are, killin’ it. you are such a lovely person who has always been nothing but kind, i am still endlessly jealous you were in pasadena for rep tour but we’ll let it slide for now, lol. i love you, thank you for being the epitome of grace in this roleplay. you’re a pure light and the dash is dimmer without you on it.

@jstntimberfake​ — nicki, or should i say, GOD, i don’t know where to begin with you. you are the reason i almost took home a jt standup from 2nd and charles. i love everything that you do on both of your characters. you become them, they stand so far away from the person that you actually are and i think that is the testament of a true, talented writer: they are able to convince you that they’re someone else. and you do, every time. i’m just really, really happy that i get to say that i’m in the same rp group as you because it makes me feel like a Cool Kid on the playground who has light up sneakers. you are so cool and it sometimes lowkey intimidates me, how amazing and talented you are. thank you for always putting a smile on my face. love ya love ya  

@itsscarjo​ — aria, my magnificent love. you are so well spoken and kind and as my clumsy twin, i have no choice but to love you dearly. it’s so nice to just have somebody to talk to sometimes and every time we’ve talked, it’s like being all bundled up in a warm fuzzy blanket. you are so easy to talk to and i cannot wait for the things you and i do on all of our people now that our lives have calmed the heck down and we can come on and write. thank you for being such a spectacular, inviting person. i had several other people sing your praises to me when you joined the group and i can wholeheartedly agree with them. you are one of a kind. big love

@aubreycplaza​ — marissa, i mcfreakin’ adore you. i’ll be honest, i have not had the best experiences with aubreys in the past but that all goes out the window with you. i’m obsessed with you and all of your people, and to know you and get to write with you is an absolute pleasure. thank you for being so much fun to write with, thank you for giving me so much quality stuff to stalk while i’m on the dash and feeling like trash, thank you for being so understanding of me constantly feeling like trash, i adore you. can’t wait for tay and aubrey to finally go on their fuckin girls trip and become little jetsetters together (forevaaaa)

@jamesrodriqez​ — hello stranger idk you but i think you’re pretty cool! and i think that you have been one of the most entertaining, fun people to write with in these last couple of weeks when i feel like i’m barely able to write two sentences that haven’t been written onto a powerpoint that i’m copying off of. you just give me so much excitement about writing and plotting and that excitement is something that can be difficult to find again after you’ve gotten comfortable in a group. thank you for keeping things refreshing and new for me and taylor. i’m excited to get back to all of our fun shenanigans (and to love on your new people bc yes amen) #jandrea forever

@jarpadking​ — nikki! first of all, i’m in awe at how fast you can come up with replies on TWO characters that are so well-crafted and authentic to that person’s voice. i struggle just writing a single coherent reply on taylor half the time, lmao. you are one of the hearts in this group, the way you make it an effort to branch out and talk to every single person and create connections with both the mun and the character. you’re one of the unsung heroes and if we could all be a little more you like you, we’d be the best roleplayers around. love you so much, my dear, and of course, thank you for being so warm and inclusive. people like you are rare

@itskeeoone​ — i have spent all day binging pll because that is how i choose to veg out and every time i see keegan on screen now, i think of you, em. you just write him so wonderfully and truthfully and i don’t ever want to let you go (please don’t ever leave this group or i’ll cry). taylor and keegan have given me all the life, they are very similar people and i’m happy that my 15 year old self’s dreams are coming true by their worlds colliding here in the group. i’m so excited to write even more with you now that the holidays are coming and i’ll actually, y’know, BE AROUND, but yes. love you.

@goddamnjade​ — lucy, you know anybody that is as big into the dance scene as i am HAS to get a spot on this appreciation post ;) but also, you have just been one of the loveliest people ever? i think you’re one of the hearts in this group, the reason that it is why it is and the reason that it’s so warm and welcoming. you are so inclusive and fun to write with and i really hope that i get to talk with you more ooc because i adore youuuu!

@yosebstan​ — rileyyyy, gotta admit, sometimes you intimidate me but it is only because you are an absolute fuckin’ legend in this group, and not just because of your admin status. your characters have something that a lot of people try hard to encompass but can’t ever capture, and that’s longevity. your characters never feel stale, they always feel new and fresh and like real people, not just tropes or over-concentrated personality traits and i get so excited every time i see one of your people on the dash. i’m lucky to be in a group with you, so so lucky. i sometimes hope your natural inclination for rp will rub off on me and make me a better writer. love you, and i really hope we get to do some fun stuff in the future!!

@jpgsasha​ — cami, you and i clicked so fast when we started replying to each other’s stuff back when you still had camila and i cannot WAIT to write with you as my honey sasha (seriously, a fuckin’ plus switch). we had some of the LONGEST replies on the dash at one point but when you’re inspired, you’re inspired! thank you for inspiring me and being one of the most down to earth people in this group. you deserve all the fuckin’ love. please love me so i can give it to you.

@avycias​​ — katieeee!! it legit surprised me to find out how close we are to one another #hurricane watch friends, lol. you are so sweet and your alycia is absolutely legendary, i was biting at the bit to write with you from the minute i joined this group. i hope we get to do all of the things with taylor and alycia because writing with you makes me so happy. you are wildly talented and the way alycia comes to life every time you type something is magical. you write her with a conviction and you make her your own and i think that’s why i adore her so much. thank you for being you. love you much babes

@milesdominic​ — marie! miles and taylor had one of the cutest friendships ever and it needs to make a comeback asap, because 1) that, and 2) writing with you comes so naturally (*plays naturally by selena gomez and the scene*). i barely have to think about what i want to reply to you with because there’s a chemistry there that is hard to replicate; thank you for keeping me on my toes and my brain alert and being such a fun person to write with. you give me the chance to explore sides of taylor’s voice that other people look over and that i love, and that’s all anybody could ask in a writing partner, someone who allows them to run wild!

@blccmtroye​  — fiona, i fuckin’ love your troye. he is too much fun to interact with, and i am thankful that you gave this group a shot (and that you gave me a shot). i couldn’t imagine this place without the wit and the charm that you supply with every single post you make.

@flynnpls​ — marie, i’m just in love with all of your people and you. you’re one of the people i feel like i admire from afar because i stay in awe of the way you write and how effortless it seems to come to you. you balance all of these different personalities with finesse and i really do feel like i’m talking to or reading the words of the actual celebrity in every single reply. i am crossing my fingers that i get the opportunity to write some really incredible things with you here in the future because i have such mad respect for you.

+ to everyone else that i either forgot to mention, have not really formed connections with outside of replies or haven’t had the chance to talk to you/your babies due to my super fun hiatus: i stalk so many of you on the dash and keep up with your plots and where you take your characters and it really and truly is such a privilege to be in the same group as you. they say that birds of a feather flock together and if that’s the case, i am simply a reflection of all the things y’all are. kind, funny, clever, creative, welcoming, intelligent, and a part of something, and i could not ask for more. i love all of you, whether we’ve talked or not (believe me i probably stalk you and just love you from afar) and any time you ever need a friend, call me beep meeeeee. i’m always game to do things with taylor and explore her more through whatever plots or connections we could create, and i promise that if i don’t respond to an im, it’s because i’m off on hiatus or it got eaten. i want to do ALL the things with ALL of you. come hit me up! let me love you! k thanks!!!

obligatory thank you note to my queen taylor alison for existing. love u bitch.

xx, caroline

[weekendwarriorblog]

The Weekend Warrior 12/18/20 – GREENLAND, FATALE, MONSTER HUNTER, EDUCATION, BREACH, SKYLIN3S and More

We’re getting so close to the end of what has been a fairly grueling year for movie lovers, especially those of us who enjoy watching movies in theaters. I personally was watching upwards of ten movies a week in theaters, but since March, I’ve only seen two, and that’s because movie theaters were shut down and then kept shut down since mid-March. Meanwhile, I can literally get on a train and see a movie in Jersey City without any problems, and there have been no cases traced to someone watching a movie in a theater either. Meanwhile, Cuomo and DiBlasio keep shutting everything down in New York City despite claiming that they were going to stick with the zones or hot spots… nope, the entire city may be closed down after Christmas.

But enough moaning…  There’s some good stuff debuting this week and some of them even are in theaters. I’m gonna start with three movies from three of my favorite filmmakers, all of whom know how to make fun, mainstream studio films.

Oh, and before you get to that, also check out my advance review of next week’s Soul from Pixar Animation!

Director Paul W.S. Anderson and partner Mila Jovovich reunite for a brand-new video game adaptation, MONSTER HUNTER (Screen Gems), based on the Capcom game in which the characters… you guessed it… hunt monsters. In this one, Jovovich plays Captain Artemis a soldier who while investigating the disappearance of a battalion ends up in another dimension known as the New World where she encounters (dum dum dum!) monsters and fights them with a new ally, played by Tony Jaa.

Listen, I’ll be the first to confess that I find Anderson’s movies to be a bit of a guilty pleasure. While he has made some fun movies like Alien vs. Predator and Event Horizon, he’s sometimes faltered like his attempt at a Three Musketeers movie and of course, Pompeii. Undaunted by the number of video game movies he’s already made, he takes on yet another one, and he definitely seems to be having quite a bit of fun while making this one.

Monster Hunter begins with a preamble set in the “New World” where we see a ship and characters straight out of the game being attacked by a giant monster. We’re then back in our “Old” World where Jovovich’s character is leading a small platoon in search of a missing group of soldiers. They’re hit by a huge sandstorm, and next thing they know, they’ve been transported through a portal to another dimension where they’re attacked by a giant horned creature (a bit like a mutated Triceratops) that burrows under the ground and starts killing them off one-by-one.

Listen, I make no bones about the fact that I’m a full-on giant monster stan whether it’s Godzilla, Pacific Rim, whatever, so I was probably already fully onboard before I saw the great job Anderson and his team did to make these monsters feel like they have real weight and scale. There are definitely elements to the movie that reminded me of Paul Verhoeven’s Starship Troopers – a movie I genuinely love -- but it did a better job of it than another movie out this week (see below).

Another reason Monster Hunter works at all is that not only is Anderson familiar with the mechanics of the video game but also understands that a movie like this requires some degree of humor to be taken seriously, ironically. Much of that comes from the attempts to communicate between Jovovich and Jaa, and that does get a little tiring after a while, but it offers some laughs once the action settles down, which isn’t often. Jovovich is still a kick-ass action heroine as always, and it’s almost shocking that her and Anderson have been doing this stuff for 18 years since teaming up for the very first Resident Evil.

The great thing about Monster Hunter is that it’s almost non-stop action for a good portion of the movie, rarely slowing down, and it just gets better when Ron Perlman enters the mix, although he feels somewhat underused in the crazy last act where they face creatures that look a lot like the Game of Thrones dragon. There is also some notable silliness that in fact is something from the game.

Monster Hunter is definitely not the kind of movie I recommend to everyone – fans of the OTHER Paul Anderson would turn their noses up at the suggestion --  but if you’re a fan of giant monsters and some of Anderson’s earlier work, you’ll probably already know whether or not this will be for you. Either way, it’s the kind of entertainment we just haven’t seen much of in 2020. Monster Hunter will open in theaters including IMAX on Friday.

Director Deon Taylor reunites with his The Intruder leading man, Michael Ealy, for the psychological thriller FATALE (Lionsgate), in which Ealy plays Derek, a very successful sports agent who has an unfortunate one-night stand while in Vegas with a woman, played by Oscar-winner Hilary Swank. When Derek returns to L.A., a break-in at his home brings out the police, including Swank’s Val, who happens to be a well-regarded police detective, and she will not be ignored, Derek!

I went into this presuming it was Taylor’s version of updating the erotic thriller Fatal Attraction, and I was partially right, except that Swank’s Val is much more dangerous in this case because as a police detective, she has a lot more power over Derek once she realizes he’s married. There are elements to this movie that definitely give it a twist like the fact that Derek and his wife Tracy (Damaris Lewis) are already having marital problems before his affair, or the fact that Val has been trying to get custody of her daughter from her politician husband (Carter Haywood). There’s also Derek’s best friend and business partner Rafe (Mike Colter) and ex-con cousin Tyrin (Tyrin Turner) that add to the mix once people around Derek start dying.

I’ve always said that Taylor is a better director than a writer, but I was surprised that this thriller was written by David Loughery, who also wrote last year’s fairly decent The Intruder. Ealy is just fine as always here, but Swank’s attempt to play a bad guy just doesn’t work as well as she did in The Hunt. Having so many different subplots and characters just confuses matters and takes away from the actual thriller.  There may be a couple unexpected twists but none that really shake you up like some of the ones in Fatal Attraction. Sure, maybe it’s unfair to call it that, even though we’ve seen quite a few genre-switched remakes/twists like What Men Want and Little, and this isn’t that at all.

On the other hand, there is an interesting sublayer to the Val-Derek dynamic that makes you think of the way black men far less rich and successful than Derek are treated by white police, so the movie may be inadvertently (?) be building on the “Black Lives Matter” movement without intentionally trying. Still, I liked Taylor’s last movie Black and Blue much more.

Other than that, Fatale never really goes anywhere and never quite delivers on the promising concept in the same way some might be hoping based on Taylor’s previous work.

Director Ric Roman Waugh and actor Gerard Butler reunite after making last year’s Angel Has Fallen, this time for the disaster film GREENLAND (STXFilms). Sadly, this one is going straight to PVOD in the USA rather than being given a chance in theaters, which is a shame, since it’s a big screen disaster film about a string of comets heading towards earth and one man named John Garrity (Butler) who is trying to protect and save his family.

I’ll freely admit that I’ve been a big fan of Waugh’s since his earlier film Felon – and for the sake of transparency, I do consider him a friend, so I’m glad to see him doing bigger studio films, especially since he continually proves the quality of his work and focus on characters can be retained even for this kind of movie.  Some going into Greenland might be expecting something like San Andreas or The Day After Tomorrow, but thankfully, and I definitely credit Waugh for this, it’s actually is a disaster flick that never loses sight of the humans at its core.

Butler is actually a decent actor when given half a chance, but obviously, his shift to starring in action movies means that he has to work a bit harder to show that he’s more than just a bulky buff action hero.  In this case, he creates quite a fallible and grounded hero whose marriage has been trouble, because he cheated on his wife. Morena Baccarin is also quite good as his wife Allison, really adding to the tension when she gets separated, first from Jack and then their son.  Young Roger Dale Floyd, who I was dubious of as their kid at least as the film began, really steps up and also delivers on making the audience feel that there is real danger and stakes. Just as you think the movie is about to head fully into Roland Emmerich land – lots of comet destruction -- Waugh pulls out another terrific veteran in Scott Glenn who adds even more weight and gravitas to the film.

Greenland is definitely a bit of a leap for Waugh in terms of visual FX from previous films. On top of the destruction caused by the comets, there is also a good amount of time where the skies are burning in bright orange. But it’s all background to following Jack and his family going through the ordeal of trying to escape and survive the inevitable “extinction event” when the largest chunk of the comet hits earth.

As far as disaster flix go, Greenland is one of the better ones, since it goes out of its way to make everything feel real, as if it was a well-made documentary or based on a true story, one that hopefully will never come true.

Note: I’ll also have an interview with Ric Roman Waugh over at Below the Line very soon.

Next up is Steve McQueen’s EDUCATION (Amazon Prime Video), the last installment of his “Small Axe Anthology” of films. This one stars Kenyah Sandy as 12-year-old Kingsley Smith, a boy who can’t read so he’s sent to a special school in Barnet where the teachers aren’t really teaching the kids and they’re running amok. Kingsley’s parents don’t realize what’s going on until a group of caring West Indian women pull together to speak up against the lack of education their kids are getting.

It’s the shortest of the series at just over an hour, and while it’s not my favorite, it’s still very good, and it also feels like it could be a very personal film to McQueen, maybe more than the other four movies. First of all, he found this great young actor to play the lead role -- as most of McQueen’s work, the entire cast is great, including Nicole Ackles -- but he also is exploring something that while some parents may be able to relate to, the segregation and racism that permeated the British school system in those days might not be something that many Americans or younger Brits were aware of. I also wasn’t aware of the cultural bias in IQ tests that sent trouble kids like Kingsley into this other school system where they would never learn anything despite the selling point that it has less students so the teachers can focus on helping them more. That clearly doesn’t turn out to be the case with Kingsley and the school to which he commutes.

Education definitely feels more informational than something meant to entertain like Lovers Rock, but it’s a fine addition to the “Small Axe Anthology” that shows how well McQueen and his team have been able to make each chapter feel different in terms of look and tone from others.

Streaming this week on Netflix is George C. Wolfe’s adaptation of August Wilson’s MA RAINEY’S BLACK BOTTOM, which I already reviewed. It stars Viola Davis as the title character, a famous blues singer in the ‘20s who has come to Chicago to record an album and she has to deal with an ambitious trumpet player, played by the late Chadwick Boseman, who has his own career aspirations that puts him at odds with Davis’ character. As with Denzel’s adaptation of August Wilson’s Fences, it’s a strong period drama.  Also, as mentioned last week, you can also now watch the related doc Giving Voice, which follows the journey of six student actors on their way to the August Wilson Monologue Competition.

If you’re looking for something to keep the kiddies quiet, check out Taylor Meacham’s TO GERARD, an animated short now on Peacock from DreamWorks Animation. It’s a wonderful animated short about a guy working in a mailroom who witnessed a magic show when he was a child that influenced his entire life and how he passes that love of magic onto a young girl he encounters.

Directed by Jennifer Trainer, the Director of Development of MASS MoCa in North Adams, Massachusetts, the doc MUSEUM TOWN (Kino Lorber/Kino Marquee) is an amazing documentation of the development of a former factory in the Berkshires area of Mass. being turned into one of the largest contemporary art museums in the world.  

North Adams was a factory town where most of the city worked at the Sprague Electronics that was left quite dilapidated and destitute after the factory closed. Years later, the warehouse that was eventually turned into MASS MoCA.

Much of the film covers artist Nick Cave – no, not THAT Nick Cave – as he’s working on his installation, but it also goes back to when David Byrne brought his installation “Desire” there in 1996. Not that it all goes without problems. While opening MoCA would help the community by giving jobs, there’s some political wrangling from the state’s then-conservative Governor, and of course, the people living in North Adams aren’t quite prepared for it to be turned into an arts community.

Still, there are some amazing enormous installations that are impressive and the director even got Meryl Streep – yes, THAT one – to narrate. I’m not really a contemporary art kinda guy but Trainer has done a good job making it easier for people like me to understand why a trip to MASS MoCA in North Adams might be a worthy sojourn.

Speaking of art, I’m hoping to get to Chinese artist and activist Ai Weiwei’s new doc COCKROACH, which will be playing at Alamo on Demand starting Friday with a watch party with Ai Weiwei happening on Saturday at 3:30PM. In this one Ai Weiwei films the Hong Kong protests of February 2019, covering street demonstrations, police suppression and violence and things like the siege on Hong Kong Polytechnic University including interviews with the participants. Will try to catch this and add something later this week if possible.

Let’s get to some sci-fi, shall we? It’s a little odd to see a few movies that very well could fall into Paul WS Anderson’s genre purview, especially going up against an actual Anderson movie, but there ya go.

The best of the three is the John Suits*-directed BREACH (Saban Films), starring Bruce Willis, Cody Kearsley from Riverdale, Rachel Nichols and Thomas Jane. It’s set in the year 2242 when the earth is dying and the last shuttle, the USS Hercules, is putting its 300,000 passengers into cryogenic sleep for the long trip to New Earth…. Yes, a bit like Passengers. Willis and Kearsley are essentially janitors who along with a few dozen others have been kept awake to service the craft, but they soon learn that something else has “breached” the spaceship and is killing them off one-by-one. (*Okay, funny little factoid: Suits also directed the “Diehard is Back” commercial for Diehard batteries.)

I’m sure you’re immediately saying, “Hey Ed, that sounds a lot like Alien or John Carpenter’s The Thing. You realize that, right?” Sure, I do, and while I don’t think Breach is likely to stand the test of time in terms of sci-fi horror, as those have, it offers more than enough entertainment that you might not regret it if someone forces you to watch it… even in a movie theater! (Dum dum dum!)

I wasn’t familiar with Kearsley before this movie, but he does a good job holding the fort as , and I have to say that Willis definitely seems to be present and not phoning it in, as he has been in some other recent VOD release. In fact, I’ll say that Willis is kind of pulling from the “Classic Bruce” we all loved in the ‘80s and ‘90s, plus he has a bigger role in the movie then others, so that should be a great selling point right there for any doubters.

Eventually, we learn that all the mayhem has been caused by a virus, and soon, the surviving crew are facing infected zombie-like people (kinda like Resident Evil) who have been thawed out from cryo. We also learn that this virus is trying to kill as many humans as possible as the shuttle is sent on a crash course into New Earth (a bit like Greenland—see how it all ties together?)

Sure, there’s an element to Breach that does feel semi-derivative of other space movies, but Suits does a decent job keeping the fun quotient on par with other Bruce Willis movies, and that’s partially why Breach is actually quite enjoyable.

Filmmaker Liam O’Donnell returns to the helm for the threequel SKYLIN3S (Vertical), the third chapter in the low-budget alien invasion movie Skyline from 2010. A lot has happened since that movie, mostly in the sequel Beyond Skyline, which of course, I haven’t seen. Thankfully, there’s a recap as the third movie now follows Rose Corley (Lindsey Morgan), a young woman with powers believed to be the hero that can save earth while fighting back against the alien Harvesters. She also has a brother Trent (Jeremy Fitzgerald), who seems to be an alien “pilot” himself, and with a crew of soldiers, she’s sent on a mission to Cobalt 1 to take the fight to the aliens. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? (Honestly, I was so confused by some of this, I do not recommend watching without having seen the previous movie.)

I wasn’t that big a fan of the original movie (written and produced by O’Donnell), but he has turned this ersatz sci-fi franchise into a full-on space opera that takes its cues (translation: spuriously rips offs) from so many other science fiction movies from Starship Troopers to District 9 to the Aliens and Predator movies. Surprise, surprise, O’Donnell worked with Skyline directors Colin and Greg Strause on Aliens Vs. Predator: Requiem, also not a great sequel. Even with Morgan being a decent female lead, it’s still very much your typical macho action movie of humans fighting aliens movie with a bit of awkward martial arts thrown into the mix. The movie is also ultra-serious almost to a level that makes it hard to snicker, and some might scratch their heads about the choice of a blooper reel during the end credits.

One thing where O’Donnell does sort of succeed is in the mix of practical and on-set visual FX to the point where you may not be sure what you’re watching, plus the environments created are generally effective quality sci-fi. It’s really in the last half hour or so when the visual FX budget starts being more obvious, but it also leads to a number of very silly and cheesy visuals, particularly involving the aliens. You can’t help but feel that you’re watching a particularly low-budget episode of any season of Doctor Who.

Ultimately, Skylines isn’t great, coming across like the Riddick sequels compared to the original movie. In this case, the first movie of this franchise wasn’t even close to as good as Pitch Black was, so why bother?

Lastly (as far as sci-fi goes), we have Martin Owen’s MAX CLOUD (Well GO USA) (aka The Intergalactic Adventures of Max Cloud), which might sound familiar to anyone who has seen any of the Jumanji movies or cheesy ‘90s films like Masters of the Universe and for whatever reason, wished they’d make movies that bad. Set in 1990, this is about a young gamer named Sarah Noble (Isabelle Allen) who finds herself transported into her favorite side scroller gang to join the adventures of its hero, Captain Max Cloud (Scott Adkins … uh oh) and his crew to take on the evil Revengor (John Hannah). In order to stay alive in the game, Sarah’s friend Cowboy (Franz Drameh) must keep the console game on and get Sarah’s character Jake, the ship’s cook played by Elliot James Langridge, through the game’s mission alive.

It did not take me very long while watching this to realize I was about to sit through a very terrible movie, but to be fair, I’ve long ago learned to go into any movie starring Adkins with some trepidation. My instincts weren’t wrong, because between the lousy writing, awful acting and cheesy score that quickly gets on your nerves, Max Cloud never once gets you thinking, “This could have been a good movie.”

There are a few other characters including Tommy Flanagan’s Brock Donnelly, your typical bounty hunter type, and there’s another baddie named Shee, played by…um.. what? Yes, kids, apparently Lashana Lynch, who is set to be the next 007 in next year’s No Time To Die got herself cast in a very bad D-grade movie before her big break. Whoops. At least the movie gives Adkins another chance to show off his martial arts moves, but they feel just as out of place here  as they do in Skylines.

I can’t even say that the filmmakers or this cast were even trying their best or giving it their all, because it doesn’t really seem like that at all. Other than some decent visual FX to create a side-scrolling fight sequence late in the movie, it's actually pretty awful, a bad faux video game movie that should have had its plug pulled.

Shawn Linden’s HUNTER HUNTER (IFC Midnight) is about a family of fur trappers led by Devon Sawa’s Joseph Mersault, along with wife Anne (Camille Sullivan) and daughter Renée (Summer H. Howell), a family trying to make ends meet until their traps start being poached by a giant rogue wolf. Joseph leaves his family behind to track the wolf but while he’s gone, Anne and their daughter find a badly injured man named Lou (Nick Stahl) who may know something more about this wolf.

I wasn’t sure what to expect of this film, mainly since there already was a werewolf movie earlier in the year this year called The Wolf of Snow Hollow, and while this is very different, it’s also somewhat stiff in comparison. About 15 minutes into the movie, Joseph and the two women are separated, and it cuts between them. It’s about 45 minutes into the movie before Nick Stahl’s character shows up, but by then, you probably have a good idea what’s going to happen.

Linden and his cast do a great job creating tension with the help of the music and sound design, but things go along for some time without much happening. Otherwise, Camille Sullivan gives a stronger performance than anyone else, a performance almost too good for this movie, but Sawa is also quite good. Admittedly it’s a little strange seeing him all grown-up having seen Final Destination WAY too many times.  On the other hand, I’ve never really been a fan of Stahl, and he really isn’t great when he finally shows up as the mysterious stranger.

There are some unexpectedly silly moments like when we actually see the wolf for the first time – it looks pretty cool, actually – and Anne just screams at it. There are a couple other characters who aren’t particularly interesting – wolf fodder, if you will – but it just takes its sweet time getting to the inevitable twist that you may have seen coming an hour earlier. The last act is pretty grueling to get through as Lou shows his true colors. Part of me wishes the movie didn’t go where it seemed to be going, because it because it feels sudden and much out of character with the rest of the movie.

Hunter Hunter isn’t a terrible movie, and it could have been far, far worse in the wrong hands or with the wrong cast. I’m definitely kinda mixed on it, since it’s still a genre film that erroneously plays down its genre potential until the very last 10 minutes, and that alone might annoy anyone watching it.

Some of the movies I just didn’t have time to get to this week:

Paint (Gravitas Ventures) Tiger Within (Gravitas Ventures) Sister of the Groom (Saban/Paramount) The Last Sermon (Gravitas Ventures) Climate of the Hunter (Dark Star Pictures) The Rescue (CMC Pictures) Shalom Taiwan (Outsider Pictures) Goodbye Dragon Inn (Metrograph Pictures)

By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest!

[krixwell-liveblogs]

I’d known spider silk was insulated to some degree.  I was really glad that it was insulated enough.  Really, really glad my interference was enough to stop the energy from conducting through the area and zapping the bugs out of the air.

Oh yeah, this manuever would’ve failed if the current had gone through her armor/body and into the floor, wouldn’t it. That possibility didn’t even cross my mind.

“Hm,” looming over me, Armsmaster made a noise of disapproval, “Not smart.”

“Bitch!  Dogs!” I hollered, “Grue!  Shadow me!”

Ooh, it’s sounding like Taylor has a plan. :D

Of all the times to lapse into caveman grammar.  Still, he smothered me and Armsmaster in darkness.

Hey, caveman grammar is genuinely useful in this situation! It allows you to communicate the essentials of your statement as quickly as possible.

So let’s see... Armsmaster sees in the darkness via vibrations in the air (SOUND)... which... certain insects are very good at making. Armsmaster is surrounded by insects right now - if Taylor makes them buzz loudly, she should be able to essentially blind his darkvision, shouldn’t she?

When Armsmaster managed to wrest the Halberd from my hands, I had enough bugs on him to tell he was bringing the bottom end of his Halberd down hard against the floor, away from me.

Meanwhile, Taylor can of course “see” via the positions of her bugs.

Armsy’s still trying to break Taylor’s advantages, naturally.

My bugs didn’t die, and continued to settle on the exposed skin of his lower face, crawl up under his visor.  The charge or whatever other stuff he had going on to direct it wasn’t conducting through the darkness.

Ooh, interesting. Kinda weird, but interesting and very helpful.

Hehe, it just occurred to me that from the audience’s perspective, Armsmaster and Taylor are fighting inside a cloud like old-timey cartoon characters.

Before he could strike at me, I headed in the other direction.  Staying in close proximity to Armsmaster wasn’t a good idea, with my power being one that worked at range, and him being the close-quarters combatant.

Good call. No need to stay close when the darkness stops the thing you were staying close to stop, much more efficiently than you could.

I felt him move away from me, clawing the bugs away from his mouth and nose, heading out the opposite side of the cloud of darkness to strike the ground, kill off the swarm I’d set on him and then turn his attention to the charging dogs.

Well, shit, there goes Taylor’s army, but she did call for the dog attack, which would be limited by the darkness, so... I guess this might be going as planned? Hard to tell at this point.

I wasn’t two steps outside of the darkness when I had Velocity in my face.

BONK ow sorry shoulda looked where I was runnin’ wait you’re one a the villains ain’tcha

Battery and Velocity were both speedsters of a sort, giving them the ability to move at a ridiculous pace.  They were very different kinds of speedster, though.

How so? Battery of course has the limitation of having to stay still to charge up, but it doesn’t sound like that’s what Taylor’s referring to here.

As I interpreted it, from all the stuff I’d read online and in the magazines and interviews, Battery could charge up and move at enhanced speeds for very short periods of time, sort of like how Bitch’s power pumped up her dogs, but concentrated into a few brief moments.  It was a physiological change, altering her biology and then altering it back before it became too much on her body.

Huh, interesting!

The actual act of moving at the speeds these guys could manage was an incredible strain on the body.  There were only one or two parahumans on the planet who could manage that kind of movement without any workarounds or limitations, and Battery and Velocity weren’t among them.

That’s actually a really cool concept, because it forces some more interesting powers than just “moves fast”. It becomes “moves fast by”, which allows for quirks in the fight based on how the power works - for instance, Battery’s charging making her a sitting duck.

So what about Velocity?

Velocity, in contrast to Battery, was more like Shadow Stalker.  He changed states, and while I had no idea what this meant exactly, whether it was him shifting partially into another dimension or altering the way time or physics worked in relation to himself,

Oh geez. We’re bringing quantum physics into this? The branch of science where you can’t be sure of a particle’s position if you know it’s momentum or vice versa, along with other pairs of mutually uncertain qualities?

Sounds like this could be interesting, actually.

I did know that it made him able to move very fast, without needing to rest like Battery did.  Fast enough that my wasps couldn’t really land on him, and those that did were dispatched before they could start stinging.

Well, that’s incredibly unhelpful.

The drawback, though, was that while he was moving like that, he wasn’t hitting as hard,

Hm...

probably for the same reasons he wasn’t shattering his bones by hammering his feet against the ground ten times a second, getting torn to shreds by friction or running out of oxygen due to an inability to breathe.  His speed came with a reduced ability to affect the world around him and be affected by it.

That’s really cool.

He couldn’t hit as hard, couldn’t hold or move things as easily.  An effective loss of strength proportionate to how fast he was capable of moving.

It’s a pretty well-designed drawback. Usually one of a speedster’s strengths is that they can just run around and sucker punch the target every time they run past, but this guy has to stop if he wants full power on his attacks. I like it!

[sytycdfeelz]

S14 // Top 10 Pt 2

Opening number -- I am HERE for this disco number! It’s reminiscent of the SYTYCD glory days of the past, and I couldn’t be more excited about it. Using all parts of the stage? YES. Ridiculous costumes that prevent you from really identifying anyone properly? YES. Audience participation with the flashy light things? YES. I love it all, and I’m practically giddy about it.

As excited as I am for the actual dancing, I’m maybe even more excited for the intro packages and learning all about this year’s contestants! Also, can we talk about that new intro package? LOVED IT. 

Comfort and Mark, Jazz (Ray Leeper) -- First and foremost, Comfort has improved by leaps and bounds since her season. I realize it was a very long time ago, but I’m still beyond impressed. Their chemistry was palpable, and I really liked the vibes of the whole piece. It was very impressive to see Mark do so well in a more focused and serious piece. He’s an incredible dancer, and this piece really showed him off. I wanted the music to be different...too much reverb for my liking, but other than that, I thought it was great.

Koine solo -- I thought it was impressive dancing, but it honestly left me a little confused. Not sure if it really showed us who she is. 

Logan solo -- Logan is impressive beyond his years. There was some seriously incredible stuff in there, and he has some crazy moves that I’ve never seen. 

Gaby and Lex, Argentine Tango (Miriam and Leonardo) --  I was pretty indifferent about this performance, and I’m not sure why. There was definitely some overdramatic face pulling in there (sorry, Lex), and Lex spent some time looking down at his feet. I will say, there were some very intricate flick series and lifts in there that they pulled off remarkably well. I agreed with Mary that there could have been a bit more heat / chemistry, but it wasn’t too bad.

Taylor solo --  It may be her height, but damn her lines go on for days! There’s an angelic quality to her movement that is so lovely to watch. Big fan!

Jenna and Kiki, Hip Hop (Luther Brown) -- I don’t really know what to say about this one. I definitely try to keep this primarily a positive blog, but I didn’t love this piece. There were some good moments, including some great synchronicity in the middle, but I found it a little boring overall. They got a lot of praise, but I’m not sure I was on the same with that.

Kaylee solo -- I really love her style and want her to have a Sonya Tayeh 

Paul and Sydney, Contemporary (Jaci Royal) -- There’s something about having a good song that really pulls a routine together and brings out the story. That was a perfect song and a beautifully choreographed routine to go with it. Sydney really impressed me with her lines, control and effortless quality of movement. I do think she could work a little more on her acting / facial expressions, but overall it was great. Also, Paul was absolutely FABULOUS, and I forgot just how much I missed him.

Robert solo -- He’s great, and I just love his whole aura. I would have liked a little more more use of the whole stage, but overall it was good.

Dassy solo -- Anyone else want to see Dassy and Jaja dance together? Because I DO! She’s a great animator, and I loved that solo.

Allison and Logan, Jazz (Brian Friedman) -- Remember when Brian Friedman choreographed for Britney Spears? Because that could have been a Britney video or a concert number, and I loved it. It’s hard to pull focus when you’re dancing with Allison, but he managed to shine so brightly in that piece. His jumps and leaps were out of this world, and he truly embraced the character. I thought this was a really fun piece, and I loved it!

I totally forgot about Blessing and her step team until right now (sorry, Blessing!!!) but I’m so glad Nigel put them on the show. Their performance was fantastic and so powerful. I love that there were women of all shapes and sizes participating and having a voice. And, the all-stars joining in was a nice touch. Paul and Marko were surprising good, and Jasmine and Comfort crushed it!

Lex solo -- This kid is straight up incredible, and I don’t know if I’ll ever stop being impressed by his solos. UNREAL. 

Cyrus and Kaylee, Hip Hop (Pharside and Phoenix) -- I always love Pharside and Phoenix routines, and this one didn’t disappoint. This piece was perfectly suited for Kaylee’s quirky personality and unique quality of movement. The lift where she held herself on Cyrus’ back was wild! The absolute strength needed for that is insane, and I felt like she held herself there forever! Great synchronicity from them as well...you can tell they’re on the same page.

Robert and Taylor, Broadway (Al Blackstone) -- I’d be lying if I said I didn’t envy Taylor’s eyebrows. They’re perfection, and I want them. This style suits both of these dancers so well. The whole thing was absolutely swoon-worthy. It was magical all-around, and their chemistry was off the charts. Legs for days from Taylor, but she backed it up with superb acting as well. I have no idea how she did some of those jumps in heels, but it was smooth and cool and perfect. Couple to beat at this point in the competition, if you ask me...and Nigel. 

Sydney solo -- Ballroom solos can be rough, but I thought that was pretty good. She used the stage well and showed off some spins and skills. 

Marko and Koine, African Jazz (Sean Cheeseman) -- This may have been my favorite choreography from Sean ever on the show. It showed off technical skill, strength, partnership and chemistry. These two work together SO well. It showed last week, and it just continued this week. Aside from just chemistry, there is a respect there that you can feel through their dancing. Also, I SHIP IT. #sorrynotsorry They were both excellent, and I loved this piece. Also, Cat in the headdress = her old antics, and I am here for it!

Mark solo -- I would have liked to seen more dancing throughout this, but he really brought it home at the end. 

Jasmine and Robert, Contemporary (Stacey Tookey) -- Similar to how it is with Allison, it’s usually really hard to not watch Jasmine, but Robert really dazzled in that piece. I was so impressed with his quality of movement, and Stacey didn’t hold back on any of her token lifts. I thought Nigel’s critique was pretty harsh, because I felt the emotion from Robert at every turn. I thought the partnership was strong, and I liked the piece a lot. 

Kiki solo -- Gotta hand it to the guy, that was a great ballroom solo. 

Dassy and Fikshun, Bollywood (Nakul) -- I thought this was a really fun piece from Nakul! There was some great energy from both Dassy and Fiksun, and I liked how much fun they were clearly having. Also, the sparkle mania costumes were FAB. There was a little fall / bobble, but they moved on from it and didn’t miss a beat. This is a great partnership, and I think they’ll be able to do a lot of things well. 

Bottom 3: Logan, Sydney and Robert...this is rough because they’re all good. And maybe more importantly, their all-stars are all SO good. I don’t want to lose any of them. 

Judge’s choice: Robert is going home. Judges were not unanimous on this, and I have to wonder who wanted him to go. Honestly, there are plenty of Utah ballroom dancer girls, but Robert is truly unique and he could have really benefitted from this show. UGH. And we have to lose Jasmine??? BLAH.

Welp, it was always going to be tough with only Top 10 dancers, and it’s only going to get worse. No one was bad tonight, and I have no idea who will be in the bottom next week. Yeesh. 

Back later with my “best of” list -- might have to watch it again to make those choices though!

What did y’all think?

[saergentdaddy-moved-blog]

Speak Now (Chris Evans AU)

no hard feelings on jenny slate!!! i was more than upset when they broke up actually she’s a good girlfriend and SHE VOICED BELLWETHER IN ZOOTOPIA LIKE ????? 

song used: speak now by taylor swift

Y/N sat in the minivan, her eyes steadied on her lap. Her hands were touching the pale blue dress that she wore, in honor of the wedding.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Scarlett asked her, her green eyes soft. Y/N smiled at her concern, even if they haven’t seen each other for nearly a decade. “I know you’re upset about not getting invited, but I’m sure it was Jenny’s fault. I heard from somewhere that she erased your name from the list of people she invited. Certainly, if he could have the chance, he would invite you first. You were his best friend, after all.”

Were. Were.

Y/N nodded slowly, ignoring the looks she was getting from Scarlett.

“We’re here. I think the others are inside getting dressed. Sebastian will meet us at the entrance.” Anthony said from the driver’s seat, parking the minivan in the church parking lot. “Y/N, stop it with the long face. It’s not like we can tell Chris he can’t marry her.” Anthony said bluntly.

“I—I know.” Y/N said, her voice cracking at the end. Scarlett and Anthony’s gazes on her softened. She shook her head as she started getting intimidated by their staring. “Let’s just get inside, yeah?”

Both of her friends nodded and they stepped out of the minivan, Y/N following in suite. Her flats hit the pavement almost with no sound and she smiled bittersweetly at the sight of the roses decorated outside of the church.

She watched as Scarlett and Anthony made their way to the church, and she followed behind quietly. She stepped onto the marble stairs and were ushered in by the duo, who followed her inside the decorated hall.

“Names?” the man standing at a desk asked them.

“Anthony Mackie.” Anthony said, his eyes darting to Y/N. “Scarlett Johansson, and uh, Y/N Y/L/N.” he finished, and Y/N could tell by the man’s expression that she wasn’t on the list of guests.

“Um, sir, I don’t see anyone by the name of Y/N Y/L/N on the list.” He looked at the other two. “You both can go inside now—“

“Anthony? Scarlett?” Y/N jumped at the all-too familiar voice of Chris, who walked into the church entrance. His eyes widened when he saw Y/N with them. “Y/N? Y-you came! I’m so glad you could come!” He made his way past the guard, grabbing her by the wrist and bringing her to his chest, hugging her tightly.

Y/N was surprised, considering the last time she saw the boy, the circumstances hadn’t been brilliant. But nonetheless, she hugged him back, a ghost smile on her face.

“I—but the problem is,” she began after pulling away from Chris’s hug. “I—I never actually got invited . . .” she said awkwardly. Chris blinked for a second before turning the man behind him, who gulped in fear.

“Add Y/N Y/L/N to the guest list, please.”

Y/N smiled; she glad to see Chris hadn’t changed his gentlemanly ways, even with a selfish bride.

“Excuse me, but where are the mints?” Y/N turned around to see a lady in a blue pantsuit ask her, her nose turned up in disgust. “You aren’t supposed to be in here, you’re supposed to be in the back. I should tell Jenny to fire you.”

“Mrs. Slate!” Chris jumped at the woman, while Y/N stood there, flustered, red, and confused. “This is my friend, Y/N. She—she’s not one of the caterers.” he cleared up, the lady narrowing her eyes at her.

She was supposed to be Chris’s mother-in-law?

“Oh,” she murmured. “You just seemed to look like you wore a cheap uniform, so I assumed as much.” she said bitterly, causing Y/N to look down to her feet in embarrassment. The woman walked past them, not bothering to check in, towards the back of the church.

Y/N ignored Scarlett and Anthony’s eyes that were looking at her nervously, as Chris cleared his throat in an attempt to settle the awkwardness.

“A-anyways, let me show you around! Sebastian should be upstairs getting ready, and I’m sure he’d be happy to see you all!” Chris said cheerfully.

Y/N stepped into line behind Scarlett and Anthony, following Chris through the pews to the stairs where Sebastian stood at the top, his eyes cast to the mirror in front of him. He gave a smile to Y/N when he noticed her appearance, glad to see her get into the wedding without too much trouble.

“Hey, you guys.” He greeted, giving his two friends a great friendship hug before giving Y/N a personalized hug of her own. As she went to pull away, he asked her, “You okay?” She nodded.

“Uh, Scarlett, Anthony want to come over and see some . . . cool stuff?” Chris said awkwardly, but was able to convince his two friends and they left the room, leaving Sebastian and Y/N alone.

“He shouldn’t be marrying her.” Sebastian said, sighing as he sat down on the red leather couch. “You should be the one he’s marrying. He doesn’t love her. I know it. If you would say something—“

“UGH! Christine! You ruined my nail polish!”

The two jumped in surprise when the shrilly voice of Chris’s bride was heard from the other room. One of the bridesmaids was apologizing profusely, but Jenny was having none of it.

“Since you ruined my nail polish, I’ll ruin your whole look with nail polish!”

Multiple gasps erupted from the room and two things dropped to the floor, to what Y/N could assume were nail polish bottles. Soon enough, the door of the room opened and Christine was running away with sobs escaping her mouth. She could only imagine that Jenny spilled hot pink and baby blue nail polish not only on her dress but literally on her hair and makeup.

She turned back to Sebastian, who now had an expression that said see-what-I-mean? “Sebastian, don’t say that.” she said, stubbornly ignoring the thoughts of Chris getting on one knee with a ring in his hand, asking for her hand of marriage. “He—he must love her . . . why else would he marry her? It won’t make sense, then.” she trailed off, her head turning away from him.

“He still loves you even though he has been with Jenny for a long time.” Sebastian stated. “Admit it, you still love him, and you’re afraid to face your feelings.” His voice was stern, and Y/N tensed up, turning her head back to him. “If you don’t say something, you’ll ruin his whole life.”

“I don’t want to ruin their wedding, Sebastian.” Y/N growled, growing angry. Sebastian scoffed and smirked. He stood up and leaned down to her ear. “Trust me,” he whispered. “This isn’t the wedding Chris needs to be in.”

Y/N sat in the pew quietly. Small flower girls tossed an assortment of several flowers. After a few minutes of the little girls prancing around the aisle, tossing enough flower petals to make any allergic person sneeze a couple times, the wedding music began to play.

When the bridesmaids and groomsmen walked down the aisle, Anthony was, unfortunately, missing a partner. Y/N looked away from them, feeling grief for Christine. She looked at Chris on the altar, who nervously tapped his thigh. Their eyes met for a moment, but Y/N looked away quickly to prevent herself from bursting into tears. She’d ruin Jenny’s big day if she looked at him, even if she was already ruining her life from the start.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen stopped across from Sebastian, the bridesmaids eyeing the boy who seemed uninterested in them. Soon all the eyes were on the bride, who looked like a big cotton ball beside her small father. Y/N figured she got all her traits from her mother.

Jenny side-eyed Y/N, hatred burning brightly in her eyes. She watched her smile turn into a nasty look for a moment. Y/N could only look away in embarrassment, losing against their little contest at who was better at being better.

Her eyes met Chris’s again as Jenny took her place next to him. The bridesmaids and groomsmen had to shuffle around to let her gigantic dress through. His eyes twinkled at her for a moment before he turned to the young woman next to him, smiling an obviously fake smile.

Y/N could only look down to her hands. You were not about to ruin her big day.

Y/N stared at the couple as they began to exchange vows, Chris going first.

“I love every,” he paused, glancing at Y/N, but he went unnoticed. “E-every quality that my lovely bride-to-be has. All of her, uh,” he paused again and glanced at his shoes. Y/N’s eyes locked with Sebastian’s. He was looking at her as if he wants her to stand up and stop the whole wedding.

She shook her head and forced her head down.

She wouldn’t ruin their wedding.

“All of her flaws,” Chris gulped, sweating under all the gazes on him. “They’re—they’re not even flaws, to me . . .” He continued to talk in a shaky manner, and Y/N watched his bride’s expression grow angrier every time he paused, the same time Y/N grew even more upset about the entire situation.

She couldn’t ruin their wedding.

Even if the bride is ruining her life.

She listened to Jenny say her own vows, quickly and every now and then she’d give Chris’s triceps a squeeze, causing his smile to fall a little more every minute.

He truly looked unhappy.

No.

She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

Then the preacher began to say vows, Chris gulping every time he responded, tugging at the collar of the white dress shirt he wore. Jenny only held and squeezed his arm, clearly trying to calm him down and make him look good on their special day. Her special day.

Y/N knew that he hated it when someone squeezes his arms; he always preferred hugs. She felt terrible for even coming to this wedding, because she just had to do this.

Not for Scarlett, Anthony, Sebastian, or anyone else.

But for herself.

And for Chris.

“Do we have any objections to these two getting married?” the preacher asked. Y/N locked eyes with Sebastian and she gulped nervously. She stood up slowly, inhaling sharply.

“I object to this marriage.”

Y/N looked at Chris who seemed almost . . . relieved.

“I-I object to this marriage, because—because I know Chris wouldn’t marry a woman like Jenny, who only likes him because of his popularity and wealth.” she said, now feeling the courage she needed bubble inside of her. “Chris is a—a sweet, loving, wonderful guy. A woman like Jenny doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as him.”

Y/N took a deep breath. “I-I had a chance to be with him, but I wasted it away. I want another chance, Chris.” she croaked out. “You aren’t truly happy with her, are you?” she said, her voice strained at the end. Chris took his arm off of Jenny’s, who now stood alone on the altar, mortified and furious.

Y/N could see the smile on Sebastian’s face as Chris walked down the aisle, his face a mixture of happiness, relief, and pain. She didn’t have to wait for him to make the next move, she just hugged him. She felt him cry to her shoulder.

“You ruined my wedding!” Jenny shrieked, racing towards the two, but was quickly stopped by Sebastian, who glowered menacingly at her.

“Am I worthy of a second chance?” Y/N asked, who was now starting to cry. Chris nodded, and she hugged him tighter, burying her face on the crook of his neck. “You spoke up for me, Y/N. Why wouldn’t I give you a second chance?”

Y/N shouldn’t have ruined their wedding, but Jenny would’ve ruined Chris’s life.

When they said, “Speak now.”

[sweetzoejaymes]

february.14-my sweet sweet valentine

Sweet Zoë Jaymes - I cannot believe November 30th was the last time I updated your blog. Sorry :( We’ve been busy again. This is why I need to write more often. I can’t even remember the beginning of December? I do know that we went to California for Christmas. Auntie Katie, Jackson and Landon got in to town the same time we did. We headed to Bakersfield, with a very important stop to In-N-Out. We had such a good time in California. Good quality time with Papa and our Mejia Family, then up to Exeter to spend time with Nana and Grammy. Auntie Katie left the day after Christmas and you spent some quality time with your dad as well. The one big bummer was that you were sick the entire time we were in California. It started the day before we left. Leah called me from the Y to say your throat was hurting and I needed to pick you up. We went straight to CVS to get you some sore throat meds, but you ended up having a fever the whole night. Then we had to wake up in the middle of the night basically to leave for the airport. On the way to the airport though, we had to pull over for you to throw up. That turned out to be good though. That kind of relieved you for the flight. But my poor Zoe was sick the entire trip. The good thing was that we had all of our loving family around to comfort you and make you feel so much better. 

After getting home from California, it was back to school, but we had another exciting trip just ahead of us. We were going to Washington DC to march in the Women’s March on Washington. The recent election has brought to light a lot of things we have taken for granted, but we still need to stand up for what we believe in and fight for what is right. That has never been more important in my lifetime, or yours thusfar, than now. Our current President does not value or treat women the way we should be treated, his administration devalues our rights, as well as many other groups of people. The Women’s March was an organized event to stand up and say, we are not ok with what is happening and we will stand up and defend what is right. Somewhere around 500,000 people, mostly women showed up in DC to march, but people gathered all around the world to march with us as well. It was the largest demonstration in US history and you were a part of it. 

Katie and Taylor flew out from Seattle. We met them at Newark Airport. Our whole way to New York there were tons of drivers we could just tell were going to the March. The stops we made to use the restroom had long lines for the women’s restrooms. After picking up Katie and Taylor, it became even more apparent who was also driving down to DC for the March. There were pink cat hats everywhere. 

The day of the March was such a positive vibe. Actually the vibe driving down was super positive too. The whole trip was a very positive experience, but the day of the March, waiting to get into the Metro, to get on a train, to get out of the metro, to get to the rally and to actually march. There were hundreds of thousands of people. All trying to get to the same spot. But everyone was so happy and loving and supportive. I’m just so glad we were able to be a part of it and that you had such a great experience. The speakers were incredible. You were very excited to see Scarlett Johansson, Alicia Keys and Janelle Monae, but I think you were just as impressed, if not more, with a little girl named Sophie Cruz. She is a 6 year old immigrant who spoke to the crowd about her experiences. We can all make a difference.

We marched from the National Mall to the Washington Monument and walked up to the Lincoln Memorial. You and Taylor were so excited to see all of the famous landmarks, including the White House. The day after the March we decided to take a little detour to Philadelphia on our way to taking Katie and Taylor back to Newark. Philadelphia was just as incredible as the rest of the trip. We went to Independence Hall to see where the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were both drafted. Across the street to the Liberty Bell, up to the Rocky steps and to Jimmy G’s for a cheesesteak. I think Katie and Taylor barely made their flight and I had to listen to half the Patriots game in the car on the way home, but it was totally worth the stop. Check Philadelphia off our to-do list. Plus, going to Pennsylvania also checked your accomplishment of visiting all of the states in the NorthEast. Which you were VERY excited about. 

You did forget to bring your study homework for an upcoming SouthEast state and capitol test coming up the following week, but we crammed the studying in when we got home and you rocked that test. 

The last few weeks since then have been non-stop. We were sick again. :( Then the first weekend of February you had your girl scouts encampment and then right after you got home we watched the Super Bowl. The Patriots won!!! Woo Hoo!

Then this last weekend Papa and Linda came to visit. We’ve had several snow storms in the last week and a half with 2 blizzards just in the last 5 days? Papa does not like the cold and snow, so I’m not so sure it was really fun for him, but he survived and I’m sure loved spending time with us and seeing where we live. 

Friday night we had Bertuccis. Saturday Papa got to see you at soccer skills and then we headed to Salem, kind of randomly, but it turned out perfect. They had ice sculptures and a sweet festival with a chocolate fountain, free sundaes and lots of sweets. Then we made it back to Waltham for dinner at Not Your Average Joe’s where you made special arrangements for a birthday surprise for me and you got to stay the night with Papa. We met for breakfast at our favorite spot, In A Pickle and went shopping at the Burlington Mall. The storm really started to hit from there and we didn’t know if we were going to see Papa again before he had to go, but luckily the storm passed by morning and we were able to go hang out at Papa’s hotel, where you got to go swimming. I had to head into work, but you and Papa and Linda went on your own little adventure up to New Hampshire before he dropped you back off with me.

Now hopefully we can make it through the rest of the week at school. You had 3 snow days in a row and next week is Winter Break, so it’s nice to be back in the normal routine, at least for a few days. 

Thank you so much for being the best Valentine ever. You picked out some great birthday and Valentine’s presents. I can’t wait to spend my birthday with you tomorrow. 

love you to the moon and back. xoxo - mommy