#i personally won’t like/reblog y’all’s stuff cause it makes me feel weird

[scrunkly-scribe]

I get so mad when I see a funny post and wanna like it or reblog it, only to see it’s on my dash because one of my moots posted it or reblogged it first.

Fuck y’all.

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Please Believe Me

Pairing: (Frat Boy/University!)Ashton Irwin x Reader

Summary: She overhears something that she wasn’t supposed to

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, people being arseholes, angst

A/N: For Day Four of the 4K Write Fest, I present you with my first full length Ashton Irwin fic!!!! I hope y’all enjoy, I love writing for Ash, and this is a fic I’ve been mulling over for a while so... Please remember to let me know what you think - comment, reblog, send asks, all that stuff to keep me motivated!!!

And if you wanna check out the other things that will be coming out for the Write Fest click here: 4K Write Fest

Y/N didn’t think there was any sight in the world as beautiful as Ashton Irwin first thing in the morning.

Sunlight streamed in through the window - having not quite pulled the curtains completely closed the previous evening - and illuminated his features, still relaxed as he slept.

Y/N watched as a tired smile pulled at Ashton’s mouth, his eyes remaining closed.

“I can feel you staring at me,” he informed her, his voice groggy.

“Can you blame me?” Y/N whispered, reaching out to run her hand through his hair, which had gotten messy and tangled during the night. “Morning, Sunshine.”

“Morning, Baby,” Y/N didn’t miss the light blush which tinted Ashton’s cheeks at the nickname she had assigned him so long ago now, at the beginning of their relationship. 

“What time’s your first class today?” Ashton asked, cracking his eyes open at last, his smile widening and he pulled her closer to nuzzle his face into her neck.

“Starts at ten,” Y/N mumbled and she could feel Ashton’s grin against her skin as he rolled them over so that he was on top of her, beaming down at him with the cheeky, mischievous smile that she had grown so used to.

“That gives us plenty of time then,” he teased, ducking down to press kisses across her face.

“Ash no,” Y/N grumbled, though a laugh escaped her as she protested, pushing him away from her.

“Why?” Ashton pouted, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Because I’d actually very much like to get some breakfast before going to my lecture,” Y/N informed him, rolling her eyes.

“Fine, if you insist on being a functioning human,” Ashton scoffed, rolling over and getting out of his bed, offering a hand to Y/N with a soft smile to let her know that he was only jokingly annoyed at her.

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered, allowing Ashton to pull her up. 

“Wanna borrow some clothes?” Ashton offered, looking down at her bare body with a slight smirk on his face. Instinctively, Y/N covered herself with her arms, seeing the expression on Ashton’s face soften as he picked up on the action, gently prying her arms away from her. “I meant what I told you last night, baby, you’re beautiful.” 

“Could I maybe borrow some clothes to wear for breakfast and I’ll put mine in the wash as we eat?” Y/N suggested. Ashton pecked her lips quickly.

“Fantastic idea,” he enthused, nodding his head.

That was something Y/N knew she would always be able to count on Ashton for - being overly enthusiastic and supportive of her every suggestion, no matter how mundane.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, Ash?” Y/N questioned, pulling the shirt of his which he had thrown at her over her head and looking at him expectantly. He turned around where he stood in front of his chest of drawers, a pair of grey sweatpants in his hands and an uncertain, almost nervous expression on his face. 

“You don’t… you wanted to do that last night, right? I just… I know it’s not something you’ve done before and… and I just wanted to check that you… actually wanted to do it?” Ashton queried, finally looking up to meet her eyes, worry evident in them.

Y/N stood up from his bed and walked over to her boyfriend, her hands linking behind his neck as she smiled at him, pushing herself up to peck his lips.

“You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met - I have no idea how you managed to get your reputation,” she informed him. “Of course I actually wanted to do what we did last night, Ash - there’s no one I would have rather had my first time with.”

Relief flooded Ashton’s face and Y/N fought the urge to kiss him again, finding it adorable that even now, the morning after he had taken her virginity, he wanted to assure her that she truly was okay with him having done as such.

“I’m glad,” was all that Ashton managed to come up with in response, handing Y/N the sweats as he smiled at her.

Ashton may have had a reputation across the university campus for being someone only caring about one night stands, but Y/N had been nothing but an exception to that rule.

He had asked her out for the first time six months ago, right at the beginning of the first term, but Y/N had turned him down as a result of being far-too aware of his aforementioned reputation. Yet, she had still turned up at the party being held by his house and Ashton had spent practically the entire evening attempting to get her attention.

Yes, maybe originally it had been because he wanted to sleep with her, he doubtless found her attractive, but the more he got to know her, the quicker his motives changed.

It took him three months to convince her to go on an actual date with him. He found out that she was a virgin a month into them officially seeing each other, and it had taken another two for her to be ready and for Ashton to convince himself that she wasn’t just doing it to make him happy.

And he was happy with her, happier than he had been when in any other relationship. So much so, that he failed to remember why he had been so fond of one night stands before she came into his life. 

“Let's get you some breakfast,” Ashton said, his arm resting over her shoulders to lead her out of his room and downstairs, grabbing her discarded clothes from the floor on his way out.

“If I make the coffee can you put my clothes in the washer?” Y/N asked hopefully, looking up at him. Ashton ducked down and kissed her.

“Of course.”

Y/N went into the kitchen of Ashton’s house, saying a good morning to Calum who was sitting at the table.

“Genuine question,” Y/N started as she made her and Ashton some coffee and turned to face Calum.

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever sleep?” Calum let out an exhausted laugh.

“What gave it away?” He asked, finally tearing himself away from the laptop screen he was staring at.

“Dude, I swear you’re like eighty percent fuelled by coffee at this point, take a fucking nap, man.”

“Only eighty percent? That’s better than Mike’s estimate,” Calum teased, leaning back on his chair with a grin. “You coming to the party tonight?”

“Shit there’s a party tonight?” Y/N asked.

“It’s a Friday, of course there’s a party,” Ashton scoffed, walking into the room and hugging Y/N from behind.

“Thought you knew the schedule by now,” Calum grinned.

“You’ll be here, right?” Ashton asked her quietly, his lips by her ear.

“I’ll definitely try to, I promise.”

///

Y/N was sitting in the library with her roommate, having just finished her lecture and decided to get some studying in before she was supposed to meet some other friends for lunch and then go to work.

“Aren’t those Ash’s friends?” Her roommate, Rachel, asked. Y/N looked up from her books and over in the direction Rachel was indicating. 

Sure enough, sitting a couple of tables away from them was Calum, Michael, Luke, Roy and some of the other people from Ashton’s house who Y/N wasn’t as well acquainted with.

“Yeah, the other guys from his house,” Y/N confirmed, going back to the text she was studying.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” Rachel asked, knowing that Y/N was close with many of Ashton’s friends - particularly with his three best friends, who had been nothing but wonderfully welcoming to her when Ashton first introduced them all.

“Isn’t that weird?” Y/N questioned but Rachel shook her head with a laugh.

“No - you’re dating their best friend, you’re basically a part of that group by association,” Rachel informed her.

“Are you that desperate to get rid of me?” Y/N asked, raising her eyebrows at Rachel who rolled her eyes at her roommate.

“It’s just the polite thing to do!” Rachel explained. “And I know you - if you don’t say hello now you’ll be worried about the fact you didn’t say hello to them and think that they’ll think you’re being rude.”

“You scare me sometimes.”

“I pay attention and know you well,” Rachel countered.

“Alright, I’m going,” Y/N sighed, knowing her roommate was right and that she would otherwise be freaking out about Ashton’s friends thinking she was being rude and purposefully ignoring them.

Y/N pushed herself up out of the chair she was sat on, crossing the library floor to the group of male students who were sat a few tables over, while all of them had books open in front of the, none of them were actually studying, instead just messing around and laughing, gaining them dirty looks from the librarian for being too loud and disruptive for the usual quiet atmosphere found in the library.

None of the group noticed them as she approached and Y/N stopped short when there was a break in the conversation and she heard her name mentioned.

Y/N hesitated, knowing that she shouldn’t be eavesdropping but after hearing the laughter which followed the guy’s statement she knew that she had to know what it was that they were talking about.

“-I just don’t see why Ash’s keeping her around, she’s so clingy,” one of them - Josh, Y/N thought she remembered his name to be - stated.

“Maybe she’s a really good shag?” One of the others - maybe Nick? - theorised.

“Nah - she wasn’t putting out, remember? He was complaining about it.”

Y/N’s heart panged in her chest, biting her lip, feeling her face crumpling with the knowledge that Ashton had been complaining about her not ‘putting out’ as his friends so delicately put it.

“Well he got some last night, that much is for sure,” Jason, Y/N remembered Jason well, knowing that he had never liked her much, stated and mimicked the sounds of moaning, causing the rest of the table to laugh. “Probably means we won’t be seeing much of her anymore now Ash’s got what he wants.”

“It’ll be good to have him back to normal,” another one of them agreed.

Y/N swallowed heavily, tears burning in her eyes.

Her eyes moved to Luke, who she was closest to out of Ashton’s friends, but the blond man stared resolutely down at the table. Not agreeing with his friends, but also not defending her. Calum had a slight smile on his face, discomfort swimming in his eyes and Michael was laughing along with the group but shooting uncertain looks at Calum and Luke.

“I can’t wait for her to get the fuck out of our lives, honestly, I don’t know why Ash chose to play the long game with her. She’s just so clingy, I swear every time I look around our house she’s there.”

Y/N willed her three friends silently to speak in her defence, to tell the other guys to shut the fuck up. 

To give Y/N some confidence that Ashton wasn’t just using her for sex, especially not after she had given him her virginity.

She didn’t want to think of him dumping her tonight because he was finally satisfied, because he had finally gotten what he wanted out of her.

Y/N bit her lip, doing the best she could to steady her breathing, to stop herself from crying in such a public area. Just as she was about to turn away from the group, return to Rachel and make an excuse as to why she was leaving, Luke looked up from the table, as though he could feel Y/N’s eyes on him.

His eyes widened almost as though in fear upon seeing her and his lips parted just a little, almost like he was going to call out to her, perhaps apologise for what she had doubtlessly overheard.

But before he could make a sound, Y/N spun around on her heel and returned to Rachel, quickly gathering her things from the table, blurting out an unintelligible explanation to her roommate, keeping her head down so that Rachel wouldn’t see the tears swimming in her eyes, and she bolted out of the library.

///

Y/N knew without a doubt that it was Ashton who was blowing up her phone.

She hadn’t looked at her phone all evening since returning from work, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was more than likely to be Ashton who was setting her phone buzzling relentlessly.

She hadn’t gone to the party.

Rachel had suggested that Y/N go and confront Ashton about what she had overheard at the library.

Y/N decided against that plan, wanting nothing more to instead call in sick to work, go home, curl up, cry, and watch reruns of Outnumbered on the TV with a tub of ice cream instead, avoiding confronting Ashton for as long as she could manage.

Now, curled up in her pyjamas, her eyes fixed lazily on the screen having stopped crying over him a few hours ago, she wondered absently whether or not Luke had informed the other guys that she had likely heard what they had been saying.

She wondered if he had passed that information onto Ashton, who was no doubt wondering why Y/N hadn’t turned up to the party as promised.

He was probably thrilled to be rid of her.

It was a bitter thought, but if Ashton really saw her as being clingy as his friends seemed to think she was, then it was probably true, that he was just waiting for an excuse to make her leave him alone.

“He’s texting me about you now!” Rachel called from her room.

“Just ignore him!” Y/N responded.

“He wants to know what’s wrong! Should I tell him he’s an arsehole?” Rachel’s voice was getting closer, evidently approaching Y/N’s room as she read Ashton’s texts inquiring about Y/N’s whereabouts.

“No… don’t do that,” Y/N sighed as Rachel entered her room.

“But he is one, you know that, right?”

“It… it didn’t come from him?” Y/N offered, hating for the little piece of hope she was maintaining that Ashton wasn’t the person his reputation would lead her to believe, the person he had spent the last three months proving to Y/N that he wasn’t.

“Y/N…” the word was filled with a mixture of sympathy and exhaustion, Rachel clearly not wanting her friend to get hurt, but also wanting to ensure that Y/N wasn’t kidding herself. “You need to…”

“I know. I was stupid to believe he actually gave a shit about me,” Y/N sighed, plucking helplessly at the blanket covering her form.

“Hey - no you weren’t. Ash… Ashton had everyone fooled, everyone thought he liked you but…”

“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks?” Y/N joked ruefully, listening to Rachel laugh a little in response. “Tell him I’m feeling sick?” She asked.

“Why?”

“I just… can’t face talking to him right now. I’ll… I’ll sort it out tomorrow,” she sighed, moving over to lay her head in Rachel’s lap.

“You don’t deserve this, Y/N/N,” Rachel responded, typing out a response on her phone before tossing it aside, dropping her hands down into Y/N’s hair, playing distractedly with the strands.

“Thanks, Rach.”

///

“Ashton? What are you doing here?” Y/N refused to open the door too much as she looked out into the hallway of her building, frowning at the presence of her boyfriend on her doorstep.

Ashton’s smile was painful for her to observe and he held up the shopping bag he had with him.

“Rach said you were feeling sick yesterday - figured I’d come and help you.” Ashton tried to move forward into her apartment but Y/N kept the door almost-closed, not missing the hurt expression which crossed his face.

“Look, I appreciate it.” Y/N stated. “But you need to go.” Ashton’s face dropped into a proper frown at her words.

“Y/N? What? Why?”

“I just… really don’t want to see you right now,” she stated honestly, trying to shut the door on his face but Ashton stuck his foot in the gap between the doorframe and the door.

“You don’t get to just say something like that and shut me out - what the fuck is going on?” He asked.

“How about you ask your friends?” Y/N hissed, realising that there was no way that she would be able to keep Ashton outside and letting go of the door, turning and stalking away from him. 

Ashton followed her into her apartment, dropping his bag of shopping on the floor and slamming the door closed behind him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ashton asked, following her. Y/N saw Rachel peek her head out of her door into the hallway and glare at Ashton.

“The fuck are you doing here, Irwin?”

“Seeing my girlfriend? Who you told me was sick yesterday?” Ashton offered, not even bothering to make an attempt at masking his contempt.

“Hey - don’t be an arsehole to her just because we found out the fucking truth yesterday!” Y/N exclaimed, whipping around to glare at the man who, this time the previous morning, she had been completely wrapped up in.

“What truth?” Ashton demanded, running his hand through his hair and letting out an exasperated laugh. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“So Luke didn’t tell you,” Y/N said, nodding her head. “Figures.”

“Didn’t tell me what?” Ashton implored her to tell him what was going on, what he had managed to do to fuck up their relationship so badly in the space of a day, despite him having not seen her since bidding her a good day the previous morning when she left his place.

“You got what you wanted, Ash, I can’t give you anymore. Please… please stop doing this,” Y/N’s eyes closed and she willed herself not to cry. She had done far too much crying already. She opened her eyes again, shaking her head.

“What did I want? What did I do?” Ashton begged, trying to take her hands but Y/N yanked them away from him.

“You already got me to sleep with you. You already convinced me to love you. There’s nothing else I can offer unless your plan is to publicly humiliate me.” Ashton gaped at her, seemingly speechless. Y/N gave a wry smile. “I heard the guys talking in the library.”

“W-What guys? Who said that?” 

“Your friends. Some of the guys who live with you.”

“Luke? Mike? Cal?” Ashton demanded incredulously.

“No,” Y/N conceded and Ashton let out a breath.

“The rest of them know fuck all about me and I don’t really give a shit what they think, they’re all arseholes.”

“Well the other three didn’t seem to disagree with anything they were saying. Apparently I’m also far too clingy,” she added, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together against the words that had cut her to her very core the previous day. Ashton’s face softened at her words.

“Y/N-”

“It’s not new news. Everyone knows that you don’t do relationships, Ashton. I just… you knew I was a virgin. Why the fuck did you decide to make me one of your… your conquests.”

“You have never and will never be… be a conquest to me,” Ashton stated, his chin jutting out defiantly, daring her to disagree with him.

“Ashton-”

“No! Those pricks know next to nothing about me! Yes, maybe I wasn’t… a relationship person before but… but you’ve made me realise why people have them,” Ashton took an uncertain step towards her. “I love seeing you wearing my clothes,” he told her. “And I love that I get the pleasure of waking up next to you when you stay the night, and I love taking you out on dates, and that you’re always around. I hate it when you’re not around me, ask the guys, I complain to them that you’re not there,” Ashton was practically pleading with her to understand him. “Yeah, maybe you’re clingy,” he shrugged. “There are worse things to be, especially considering I’m far more clingy than you are - honestly, I’m a total attention whore.” Despite herself, Y/N laughed, causing Ashton to smile in relief.

“You were never a… a conquest to me. I never wanted you to feel that way and I’m so sorry that some dumbasses I happen to share a house with ever made you doubt how I feel about you,” Ashton reached out to cup her jaw with his hand, his hazel eyes swimming with relief and adoration when she didn’t move away from him. “I wanted to sleep with you because… because I realised I loved you and… and I’ve never loved anyone before. But I wanted to make sure you were certain first. Those other guys they just… they don’t understand what we have because… because you’re right. Everything I just said goes totally against my reputation and the reputations of most of those guys,” Ashton stepped forwards again so that they were practically chest to chest. He smiled at her, a proper smile which crinkled his eyes and left deep dimples on his cheeks. “But I think I’d rather gain a new reputation with you than maintain that one.”

Y/N pushed herself up to kiss him. It had been less than twenty-four hours since she had seen and kissed him last but she craved him, and it felt like an eternity had passed. 

“I’m sorry I... I’m sorry I listened to them,” Y/N whispered, resting her head against his shoulder. Ashton hugged her tight, kissing the top of her head.

“I’m sorry I gave you and them reasons to believe that it may be the case.”

Ashton and Y/N stood together in Y/N’s hallway, Y/N listening to and taking refuge in the comforting sound of his heartbeat thudding in his chest as she reflected on their argument, surprise overtaking her features as she remembered what Ashton had let slip.

“Wait - you love me?” She asked and Ashton laughed at her.

“I thought you already knew that?” Y/N kissed him again.

“I love you too.”

[genderfluidlucifer]

Response to being asked to give  an opinion on Connie’s calout by residentevil-4

(Tw: CSAM, rape fic, incest fic, predatory behavior, racism, ableism, kink mention, nsfw mentions. Minors should probably dni.)

“Connie and I know each other irl and went to school together for 3 years, although they now live in a different state and have cut contact with me. We went to a private therapy school in Manhattan as we're both disabled and were deemed unable to attend public school. Even though we were pretty close, Connie didn't like having photos taken of them, so I don't have any selfies of the two of us; however, these are from our sophomore and senior yearbooks which at least confirms that we were in the same year at school. People who have seen Connie's selfies should be able to confirm that that is what they look like. First and foremost, Connie is not TMA. They are intersex and the two of us have discussed intersex issues both in person and online, but they are still decidedly CAFAB.” Ok so first off, I want to address this part of the callout. To be honest...was it really necessary to literally doxx Connie ehre? Because this textbook definition of doxxing. Yes Connie’s done some shitty things but I freally don’t think that what they’ve done warrants this level of doxxing. Or...even better, any doxxing. This feels like a really unnecessary breach of privacy, revealing sensitive information on Connie’s childhood that they choose to confide in you with. I really don’t agree with this aspect of the callout as it feels very invasive and bordering on stalkerish.  Btw when I say bordering on stalkerish I’m not directly calling you a stalker Bonnie. Just so we’re clear. I am not defending Connie supposedly faking being TMA. Because faking being TMA is a very serious issue. HOWEVER since I don’t know Connie irl and to be quite frank it’s none of my business what the nature of their agab is. Were not close and I’m certainly not going to like lead Connie onto thinking we’re friends just to confirm this with them because that would be creepy. So to be honest I’m going to take this part of the callout with again of salt for now.

[ID: A cropped screenshot of a numbered list Connie posted to their blog hadrosaurs in response to an ask. 

“3. I’m TMA And that’s completely irrelevant. I’m not accusing them because of their gender I didn’t even know their gender when they said that to me saying that they said that because they fucking said that and the reaction to it was incredibly alarming. Don’t fucking say that stuff to people.]

I mean I”m not a trans woman so take this with a grain of salt if you want but...I don’t see how this is really proof of Connie being deliberately transmisogynistic? Yes Connie gives iffy retellings of mistakes they’ve made in the past. I’ve seen that on their blog before and I won’t pretend it doesn’t happen. BUT here they sound genuine enough and to be honest a growing issue I’ve seen with callouts as of late is. A person confirms they in fact did not do the thing they were called out for. And then the people who make the callout choose to see it as proof of incriminating behavior anyways. To be honest it’s a big problem and it’s also incredibly unfair to the person being called out. If you’re so determined at that point to see the person as bigoted no matter what they say then of course anything they say can be seen as proof. So I’m going to have to pass on this bit of evidence. “Connie responded: “Final note: I have spoken extensively with several trans women about using TMA to describe myself. I will not be getting into discourse about that on this blog again. All that leads to is people demanding my medical records and calling me slurs. If you wanna have a thoughtful conversation about it direct message me cause it’s not happening again here.” Again this really doesn’t seem all that self incriminating. Connie mentions here that they’ve talked to rl trans woman about whether or not they can be considered TMA. Connie really doesn’t have to disclose that personal information to people for any reason. Yes even when people are e including this ask response in a callout. And considering lots of people DO get invasive about Connie’s medical history ans general personal life over matters like this? I feel their reaction is pretty understandable here. “Connie has constantly compared “exclusionists” (or anyone, really) to TERFs, even when the people in question are not transmisogynistic, trans exclusionary radfems, or are even transmisogyny affected themselves.

“ Gonna have to disagree with this part of the callout too. Lots of ace inclus blogs, even some run by trans women , have proven that the ace exclus movement was started by swerfs/terfs. But the blog that has the most evidence for this is courteousmingler on tumblr. I suggest you check out that blog’s archiving of the history of ace exclus rhetoric before rushing to call me a transmisogynist for disagreeing with this part of the callout. I looked through all of the evidence for Connie being racist and tbh as a black ndn it all feels incredibly flimsy. It’d be one thing if Connie was using their experiences to derail and invalidate the discussions about how black people are oppressed But they weren’t doing that there at all. This part of the post feels incredibly biased. And like OP is looking for things to be mad about. Going to have to pass on this list of evidence. Also uh I seem to recall that residentevil04 got called out for some questionable behavior as well. “Both me (insepsy, hi) and ezrat have had really weird spikes in activity on our Statcounters, both on the same day. (Saturday, 4/17/21) For both of us, majority of the pages looked at by these visitors have been related to or about Connie, or have been posts that Connie would find "problematic" such as the f slur untagged or something related to "panphobia"/aphobia. I’m sorry but...none of the proof of cyberstalking holds any water. Visiting someone’s blogs and rbing posts to disagree with them is not cyberstalking. Keeping tabs on urls that an abusive person who has harassed are using so you can block them (in this case with kyoshi) and warn your mutuals is not stalking. As a victim of rl stalking it’s...really weird to call this legit stalking at all. Much less claim that you have damning proof of it being stalking when no such evidence exists in the callout. Besides after Connie and nonbinarydave called out one of kyoshi’s buddies for sending a death threat hate anon to nonbinarydave’s toddler st4lker partly admitted to doing it a few times. Then other mutuals in kyoshi’s toxic social circle clearly began joining in. Making side accounts where they tried to spin a false narrative of nonbinarydave’s daughter being one of their alters (ableist as hell.) And also trying to do it in such a way that they thought would trigger nonibnarydave’s psychosis (also ableist as hell.) If you’re going to drag Connie for their mistakes and never let them move on from those mistakes then it’s only fair to do that to people you agree with who also do toxic/bigoted things. ALso the fact that your wording here suggests that you think panphobia and aphobia aren’t real makes me doubt this claim even more. Exclus and their allies are notorious for mislabeling inclus disagreeing with them as stalking. “connie said that they would release that info at a later time and the minor began to argue with them that they had a responsibility regardless of their complicated relationship with age. in this argument connie for a time kept their age ambiguous and at one point told the minor (who confirmed in a later ask that they were severely traumatized by adults) that they obviously weren’t traumatized. connie quickly deleted this ask and any mentions of it and the next post they reblogged was about how wrong it was to try and quantify or discount others’ trauma. on my old blog i @ed them in the replies and asked if they had just done that. connie admitted to it and said it was fucked up but quickly blocked + deleted my comment. i can’t remember whether or not connie apologized to the minor, they may have? but yeah. i thought that was pretty weird.”] I do agree with some of the concern here that adults shouldn’t over expose minors in discourse. I’ve been contemplating this for awhile myself. And trying to figure out how to take better steps to avoid including minors who are triggered by discourse in discourse, especially. HOWEVER I have one little issue with this addition to the callout. If that is the case then exclus and their allies need to practice this as well. You cannot ignore the fact that the reason a lot of minors are getting involved in exclus discourse is due to adult exclus and their allies forcing minors to pick a side in the discourse. Y’all are not at all exempt from this problem. I still remember an ex mutual of mine trying to convince a minor to agree that aces can’t face corrective rape. And based on how aggressive it got with me when I tried to avoid giving an opinion on the matter, I can’t imagine that it would’ve reacted better to the minor refusing to give an opinion or to the minor outright disagreed. Refusing to put these standards on exclus and their allies is both hypocritical and quite frankly very transparent. The claims about them glorifying dark topics on AO3 through their fics also seems unfortunately legit. I mean those asks of shaming people who ask their viewers to not romanticize or glorify abusive relationships in their works is very damning. I’m very disappointed to see that Connie has taken being an inclus to the point of validating antis anti culture wholeheartedly. I can’t think of much more to add to my opinion on that part of the callout. As for the issue of Connie interacting with pro shippers in the past, I do know that this claim is legit. I’ve seen it before and so has Breeze. This was why for a brief time we decided to stop following their blogs. Because it was triggering to have pro shippers put on our dash. And sometimes we just don’t feel it’s worth it to always let people we’re platforming know they’re rbing triggering stuff. So sometimes we just quietly unfollow and choose to not interact until we’re sure they’re filtering what they do and don’t rb in some way. I definitely don’t agree with that behavior. And if they’re still doing that I”ll deplatform again. “The anon asks: “A weird question but do you know any other stimboard blogs with your follow criteria? (No radfems, racists, fandom antis, etc.) I was hoping to find more through your “similar blogs” but a lot have no anti-antis for their DNI or allow truscum/transmeds and exclus. :(“

The user responds: “I know of @turtle-pond-stims, @outofangband, and @kinaesthetics! 🍂🍄" “[ID: A cropped screenshot of an ask sent by Connie from their now-deactivated blog, butch-with-a-tortoise.

Connie says: “hey anon I have safe stim blogs. dm me if you want them. And radfems/bigots aren’t allowed to interact. For my own safety (because the community is honestly terrifying) I can’t publicly say on my blogs that I’m safe for proshippers/kinky people but I try to spread word how I can.”] [ID: Screenshot of a post by evilwriter37, which reads, “I’ve been seeing posts about fandom police leaving ao3, and it’s like: Good. We don’t want you here anyway. Go find your own fanfiction site.”

The post is tagged “#Fandom #AO3 #Antis #Purity Culture” and has 87 notes. It was posted on December 21st, 2020.

There is a reply from main-to-outofangband-andothers saying: “there are Silm antis on that site who are against Russigon (Maedhros and Fingon) not because they’re cousins but because they’re both male (coded)”] [ID: A screenshot of an anonymous (though signed off as being from outofangband) ask sent to evilwriter37, which says, “Melkor and Viggo solidarity is ‘Look there’s nothing wrong with keeping my enemy chained up in my personal chambers at all times so please just focus on the war efforts and I’ll focus on the boy* in my chambers’ -@outofbangand.

*boy used figuratively @ antis”

The user responds: “Pfft!!! Hahaha! You’re absolutely right! (And Viggo does refer to Hiccup in canon as ‘my boy’).”] I can’t really say anything to refute this. Because these are all posts of Connie outright stating that they disagree with antis. And not only sympathize with anti antis but are fully against antis. Looks like very damning evidence. Although ngl I’m not entirely against kinky blogs as a whole? Just so long as they truly stay in their lane with their kink content. And don’t force it on others in any way. Or shame people who are triggered by their kinks. It is true that being entirely against kinky blogs no matter what is dipping your toes into swerf rhetoric. Tbh I’m not going to look at the rest. This is pretty much all I need to make a decision on whether or not I”ll continue platforming Connie. Though I will try to get some more  perspective from people who I interact with as well. Because I feel better about making a more definitive decision after doing that. Also in general please don’t not try to get an opinion from me on how I feel about syscourse. A lot of the claims about Connie’s age weirdness and them using their alters as a shield feel like syscourse to me. Especially if this callout was written by one or several singlets. Singlets should never be trying to judge how legit someone’s system is ever. Even if their system friends encourage them to. You can call out a horrible person with a system without trying to insinuate that they’re lying about their alters in some way. Doing otherwise is ableist ESPECIALLY if you’re a singlet. Also in general the reason I stay out of discussions of judging how someone is handling their systems is because it’s syscourse and syscourse is triggering for my system and I. If this post was an attempt to get me to give an opinion  on the validity of Connie’s system I don’t appreciate it. And I would appreciate not being dragged into such matters again, thank you.

In general there’s like a few parts of this callout that feel legit. Which is unfortunately cluttered with obvious bias and obsessive hatred of Connie. I’m not here to stan or coddle Connie. I know they are not a perfect person. Especially since no human being in the world is perfect. But I feel the way this callout was created was very sloppy since a lot of the evidence was messy at best. And some points were very hypocritical as well as there being some no true scotsman moments from OP. In acting like exclus never do any of the thing that they tried to call out Connie for. Which is behavior that I am not a fan of. This is why people need to be more careful about callouts and like make roughdrafts and have a more unbiased person helping them if they don’t feel they can do it on their own. I’m even trying to make a resolve to do better at that myself. So it’s not like I’m unwilling to put my money where my mouth is. Anyways those are all my thoughts on this messy callout. And tbh I’m not going to get too much more heavily involved in this. Because I need to focus on more immediately serious rl stuff more often, like doing what I can to get out of the hellish landscape of a house I currently am stuck in.

[crimsonbluemoon]

My Tumblr Birthday!

Sooooo according to my archives and such, exactly one year ago today I became a member of the bbs fandom! It’s been a hell of a year, I will tell you that. 

So just some thoughts about this weird ass journey, if you’d be so kind to humor an old woman.

I kind of remember coming into this fandom not really expecting much? Like I kinda squirmed my way in thinking that it’d be really cool to like, read other peoples stories and get to know everyone. I don’t really know how, but I got attention because of my Cops AU idea that sort of caught wildfire. Then I posted my first little stories about Christmas and such before my bigger story, Want You,  and I was so amazed by the love and affection it got on this platform (I put it on Ao3 but it just wasn’t the same). 

I also remember how stunned I was with 100 followers? I felt like I had reached my peak and I couldn’t really go any higher. Again, I managed to get lucky by making some really good friends at the start of my fandom life and kind of being able to joke around and gain attention from them. It wasn’t any super big, but I was thankful for the time they gave me. Watching Deli draw, getting to know Kiwi, admiring Bels and Ether and Grace’s works. It was all so wonderful! 

Then around January, Sherry sent me a message asking me to help with an idea about a BBS shipping server. And it was crazy how that changed my life. The server brought good and bad things out, and I won’t say I never thought of just tossing in the towel and leaving. But I’m so happy that I stayed! I met people like Sei and Shorty and Pandy and Cana and Moon through my server. I got to see them grow as people and shared laughs with them. I also got to open up a bit and learn that it was okay to not be perfect. Because damn do I want to be perfect. But they supported me there, and evern at my darkest point,those who I never thought would stick up for me did. 

I learned what it felt like to be hated. I learned what it felt like to have people who didn’t know me, know my story, know my past and know my insecurities, rip me apart and make me feel worthless. I learned that sometimes, simply having a different opinion about a ship or a boy could make the nicest of people reject you. I learned that sometimes, people you thought would always be supportive and understanding of you could turn on you and never speak to you again. It was weird, knowing that despite the followers numbers that grew and the asks/fans who reached out to me and told me how ‘inspiring’ i was, I could feel so empty. To this day, I’m still struggling with this concept. I wanna figure myself out, and how I got to where I am while also not knowing who I am.

I started up one of the coolest projects in my life here; Libahunt. I’ve written stories before, don’t get me wrong. I’ve written stories for bigger fandoms, with more comments, more kudos, more views. BBS is a small time fandom, so I knew what I was getting into. But man, for such a little place, y’all have big hearts. The love, support, and just damn attention I got for this story was amazing. The fanart? I cant even begin to tell you how much that all means to me. Every time I see a piece, my heart melts to think I got to inspire someone. Hearing people freak out in discord, seeing the reblogs and comments you make...that’s all I want in life. So honestly, thank you all for making me realize how much I love this story and helping me get my ass back in gear to write it properly. 

Kind of on the same topic, I really got to thank some super important people for just...being there for me. I can’t list EVERYONE because jesus I would be here forever, but these ones just...they really stick out for me.

@firstaidquarters: My writing wife, half of my brain, my HC partner in crime, honestly one of the best people I’ve met. Ever. Like, do you get how much you mean to me? How you just make my world a better place? If I’m mad or sad or hyper or just being fucking stupid, you’re there. You literally spent 28 hours helping me write a story without ever asking anything in return. I wanted to quit, I wanted to throw my computer and never look at it again. But you just...sat there and kept me going. And now? It’s fucking amazing because of you. And I never have to explain myself to you. You just get it. And God I can’t even say enough how much our HCing has been a blessing. I don’t even think you realize that without you, I wouldn’t still be in this fandom. I cannot thank you enough, even if you created that wretched Minibat. 

@kihorri : We weren’t close originally but jesus you came in like a wrecking ball, eh? My life has been crazy since I did that Banana Bus Tales thing with you. You helped get my name on the map. And for the past couple months, I’ve really adored the frienship we’ve created. Our DM messages are probably enough to get us sent to hell, but I’m okay with that. Each time you tell me you’re reading my story, I melt. Like to think you’d waste your time on me? To get to joke with you about ‘certain’ types of stories and watch you draw silly pictures...it makes my world! You drive me up a wall every way you can, you make me cry from your beautiful art, but you could put the pencil down and never draw again and I’d still wanna talk to you every day. Even with your horrible sleep schedule. 

@mssjynx : YOU! God you are a menace. Sneaky other writing wife. But like, one of the best writers in the BBS/Misfits fandom. You make me wanna read angst. Do you know how hard that is?!?! Like jesus man, you were so amazing with your cute stuff and your sad stuff. And you’re just as wonderful outside of your stories. I give you shit, I pull your tail, and we bicker like old women, but you are one of the sweetest people I got to meet in this fandom and even if I threaten it, I’ll never divorce you ( I mean you killed all the lawyers so...). 

@piwiskiwi: My libahunt artist! Your work is AMAZING. And you are just so prescious? I dont get to talk to you as much as I want to, but you were one of the first people I really connected to in this fandom and you don’t understand how much joy your art brings me. Like, you’re a rock star. You helped me at the start of Libahunt when it was just an idea, you helped create these pictures that others now use as references. You’re kind and funny, and even if you feed into Bel’s crazy ship, you’re the best partner for Libahunt I could ask for. 

Honestly, there’s so many others! I wanna write you all something because you all have changed me in one way or the other. But I’d be here all night and I don’t wanna take up all of your time. So just know this: You all made me who I am. Without you, the person reading this right now, I wouldn’t be Crim. That means the world to me. So, you mean the world to me. Thank you for being around for my first year here. And I don’t know if you guys will care, or if anyone even remembers memories with me or if I’m just an author you read, but I just...thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. <3

And also thanks for letting me reach 1500 followers. (Eh its closer to 1600 now, cause this happened like 3 weeks ago but I just wanted to wait until my 1 year to say it all at once. No need for two sappy posts.)  

Sincerely,

CrimsonBlueMoon <3

[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.”

[littleredroseonthevalley]

Red Rose - Chapter 2

Prologue Ch. 1 CH. 2  Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch. 10  Ch. 11 Ch. 12 Ch. 13 Ch. 14 Ch. 15 Ch. 16 Ch. 15 Ch. 16

Summary: In a bind, Riley is forced to make a thoughtless choice. Drake remembers someone long forgotten.

Rating: T - Content not suitable for children.  Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with minor suggestive adult themes.

Notes: Hi, everybody! How are you feeling this Monday? I had planned to thank personally everybody who liked and reblogged last chapter, but with my ILITW rant last Tuesday (which you can read here), the likes and reblogs got mixed up and I lost track of people. So, thank y’all!

(I’m still mad about ILITW, btw)

As I said earlier today, I’m trying this new thing with pictures. Think of them as a still of a significant moment of the chapter, with the line written underneath. Tell me if you like them, if you hate them or if you don’t think nothing about them at all, my ask is open!

More new content is to be released tomorrow, so stay tuned!

Vienna, Fall 2005

The classes were finally finished in the university. The students were slowly but surely abandoning their hermit-like study abodes and again joining their friends in the celebration of a job, if not well-, at least done.

Drake Walker, like any other student, was certainly overjoyed to be free of classes, even if it meant going back home. 

He could hear himself thinking that, and he knew how weird it sounded like. The truth was, while he certainly missed his sister, facing his mother is always an ordeal.

He supposed he missed Liam, too, he weighed. Even though, his geographic location is meaningless in that front. He can be in Vienna, Avlona or Beijing, the odds are he won’t be able to see his best friend.

No time to think about those things now, he told himself, it was a party. One he wasn’t all that thrilled to attend, to be fair, but he forced himself to come to them every once in a while, to get the guys from his hall off his back about it.

The end-of-year one seemed the most appropriate.

One thing he really missed from the Brigades was the alcohol. Pouring himself another drink, cheap beer, he leant against the wall and observed the people dancing around him. A couple of his friends called him into the dancefloor, but he motioned his drink.

A couple minutes in, the lights dimmed, the people cleared space in the middle of the living room of the apartment, a makeshift dancefloor. Gwen Stefani’s voice sounded through the speakers.

Ooh this my shit

All the girls stamp your feet like this

Few times I've been around that track

So it's not just gonna happen like that

'Cause I ain't no hollaback girl

I ain't no hollaback girl

Two girls, a blonde and a red-head, do a seemingly-carefully rehearsed choreography. The crowd goes wild with their bold moves and synchrony.

As they finish, grandiose, their spectators warmly applaud their number. Drake, however, scoffs. He finds those girls to be just a pair of attention-starved wenches, and he’s seen plenty of them back in Cordonia.

As he finished yet another cup of beer, someone calls for his attention. “Hey, Grinch.” It was the red-head from before. “Why all that brooding?”

He sneered. “I’m not brooding.”

“Yes, you are. And it’s killing the party’s vibe.” She said, crossing her arms on her chest.

God, he hates redheads. Between this loser and Olivia, he was pretty sure the only reason they existed was to annoy him. “I don’t care much for dancing.”

“So far, you’ve only given me reason to bet you don’t care much for fun at all!”

Slightly crossed, Drake said: “No need to look like an idiot to have fun.”

“No need to be an ass, either.” He seemed to go and say something, but she beat him to it. “Hey, What’s-Your-Face…”

“Drake, the name’s Drake.”

“Linda Rosa, charmed.” She made a flaunt with her hair and used an extra-snotty tone. “I bet you I can make you have fun tonight.”

He laughed, half of the absurdity of the idea, half of the arrogance of the redhead. “Oh, yeah? What you have for me?”

“Considering your disgruntled face every time you put your cup into your mouth, I’d say you’re a man of fine tastes in alcohol.” She told him, mockingly. “I have a bottle of the finest scotch you’ll find on this town in my bag. Tell you what, do as I say and make a sincere attempt of enjoying yourself tonight. If you still wanna leave in fifteen minutes, you can go home with it.”

“Fifteen minutes?” Drake lifted an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“You’re on, Linda Rosa.”

She pulled him to the dancefloor.

 In the next morning, he woke up with a pounding headache, most likely a killer hangover. Yet, he felt numbly happy.

Never one was happier to lose a bet before, he was sure.

An amused thought passed through his head, about how he should check himself on a clinic, to see if that girl put something on his drink. Certainly it was out of character for him to behave like that. Even when drunk.

As he got up and dressed, he walked to his front door, to check for mail. In there, it was a bottle of booze with a note stuck on it.

“I never told you what I’d get if I won the bet. I got a good companion and a nice time. To thank you for your sportsmanship, enjoy this whiskey. ~Linda Rosa”

Out of character it might be, but, Drake decided, sometimes it was nice to act uncharacteristically.

New York City, Fall 2015

“I’ll be back for you in the morning.” He had said. “Don’t even try to escape. We have you watched. It’s time for you to come back.”

Riley hasn’t slept at all. She was at her wit’s end. All night she thought of a plan, but anything she could come up with seemed fit to ease her escape. She was starting to believe she had to face reality, she would have to return.

Her most precious belongings were already packed. The only important thing left was hung, majestic, on the wall. The thought of putting it down brought tears to her eyes, but it had to be done.

She was motioning to get the job done when she heard a knock on her front door.

“Riley?” A voice she couldn’t quite place called from the other side. “Are you there?”

“Who is it?” She shakily asked the stranger.

“It’s Maxwell, from last night!” The cheery tone quelled her angst.

Quick on her feet, Riley opened the door and motioned for him and, surprisingly, Drake to come inside.

Not waiting for her to inquire, Maxwell jumped to talking. “We’re heading back to Cordonia, so Liam can find someone to marry and all that jazz. But, before I go, I’d like to invite you to join us!”

“Come again?” Riley asked, in shock.

“Sorry, was I speaking too fast? My brother says I do that sometimes.”

He definitively was, but that was not the case in point. “No, I mean, what do you mean me going off to Cordonia with you?”

He frowned, confused. “Well, that. What’s so strange about it?”

Drake rolled his eyes, but did not say a thing.

“God, sweetie, don’t open that door.” Riley thought, and then outloud answered: “Lots of stuff, but mainly ‘what for would I go to Cordonia’?”

“To compete for Liam’s hand, of course! Didn’t you know about how things work up there?”

“Liam kinda explained to me last night.”

“There you go! You wouldn’t normally be able to join, but I want to sponsor you!”

“Sponsor me? Maxwell, I don’t seem to understand.”

“I’m from a noble family, but I don’t have any sisters, so we don’t have anyone in the competition for the prince’s hand. So, we can choose any girl, and you’re my pick!”

“You want me to compete in a The Bachelor-like event to marry Liam?” She asked, incredulously. “What is in for you?”

“If you accept, you’ll owe me three boons, each favor fraught with more peril than the last.”

“Now, seriously, please.”

“I’m just trying to help you out, Riley.” He said earnestly. “We’re kinda crunched for time, though. I’ve got a plane leaving within the hour, so no time to waste! The Masquerade, which opens the event, is tomorrow night!”

“So…” She breathed out. “A fancy Masquerade… And what else?”

“Fun stuff! Yachting in the Adriatic, skiing in the mountains, dancing in the Royal Palace… Or, y’know, you could just stay in New York. Go back to your gig, with your crappy boss. Sure, is just as good.”

Of course, staying in New York wasn’t an option anymore. The man from last night was taxative when he told her they would be leaving. While everything this man was spewing seemed insanity, he was, right now, her best chance of escape, so perhaps she should explore the possibility.

“Okay, okay, you got me. Anything if I can be as far away from Frank as possible.” She smiled. “But we have a problem, my passport is expired. They won’t let me leave.”

They weren’t the US Immigration, not that Maxwell needed to know.

“No problem-o!” Maxwell said, excited. “We have diplomatic passports and a private plane on a US Air Force base. We can get you out of the country. When we get to Cordonia, Tariq’s friends with the American consul, he can get you a new passport.”

Diplomatic passports and airplane on a Air Force base meant undetectable traveling. Even with all their resources, they couldn’t know she left the city, much less where she went.

“If that’s so… I’m in!”

“Yeah! Go pack your bags.” If only he knew. “This is going to be the adventure of a lifetime!”

She went back to her room and shoved all her dresses and perfumes into three huge bags, in addition with the trunk containing her valuables. She made a point to leave most of her regular clothing and shoes in her wardrobe, as to, when the guy from last night comes back to fetch her, he’ll think she intends to come back shortly.

All done with the packing, she came back to the living room, where Maxwell could not be seen. Drake, however, was watching intensely the painting on her wall.

“Hey, Drake,” He jumped, surprised. “What are you looking at?”

“This painting.” He said.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I’ve bought in a trip once. It’s…”

He cut her off. “Hagia Sophia. Yeah.”

She waited for a second, and then said: “Where’s Maxwell?”

“He went out to call a cab.”

“Oh” Riley said. “Could you help me? The bags are kinda heavy…”

He hmphed, but followed her into her room. “Jesus, Riley. Don’t you know the concept of travelling lightly?”

“It’s not like I know the climate in Cordonia, the occasions I’ll be needing clothes or even how long I’ll stay out!” She defended, in a snarky tone.

Drake was about to reply when Maxwell came back, announcing their cab has arrived.

Once a few thousand feet from the ground, flying through Sicily and Tunisia, Maxwell finally said: “Say goodbye to New York and hello to Cordonia!”, making a point out of the flare in which he said ‘Cordonia’.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening.” She couldn’t believe she escaped.

“Believe it.” Drake bite. “We’ll be landing soon, ready or not. And if you’re not ready, those ladies at court are gonna eat you alive.”

“Jesus, Drake! Don’t scare her!” Maxwell chastised.

“They should be afraid of me, Drake.” Riley answered.

“Cocky.” He answered with a side smile. “You might actually survive.”

She shrugged. “I don’t get why are you being so grim about, that’s all.”

“Look,” He said. “No offense, but I’ve seen girls like you come and go. It never ends well. Not for you, not for Liam, not for the royal family.”

Maxwell saw a point into defending her honor: “Riley’s not some crown-chaser!”

God knows how much that statement is true. “To be fair, Drake, you’re more my type of guy.” He scoffed at her, which flared her with white rage. Not one to betray it, she calmly said: “I mean it. I don’t usually go for rich boys, much less royalty.”

As she finished her sentence, Maxwell tells her they were approaching the Cordonian capital city.

As she looked out the window, she breathed “It’s something out of a fairy tale…”

“If you burst into song, I’m jumping out of this plane.”

“The window is open!/So's that door!/I didn't know they did that anymore!/Who knew we owned eight thousand salad plates?” Riley sung the first cartoon song that came to mind. Soon enough, Maxwell accompanied her: “For years I've roamed these empty halls/Why have a ballroom with no balls?/Finally they're opening up the gates!”

Drake groaned.

“So, Riley!” Maxwell wondered. “Are. You. READY?!”

“Heck yeah!”

Argyrocastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

As they were going out of the plane, she noticed a sign off the airstrip.

Αεροδρόμιο Αυλωνά

Aéroport de Vallonna

Avlona International Airport

“Those are the official languages in Cordonia.” Drake surprised her from behind. “Greek and French.”

“Oh, right!” Maxwell was reminded of something. “Do you speak French?”

“Mais oui, Maxwell. Parfaitement.”

Drake scoffed. “How about Greek?”

“Fysiká!” She said, smugly. “Ézisa me mia ellinikí oikogéneia ótan píga sti Néa Yórki.”

“Say what?” Maxwell inquired in French. “You’ll have to repeat that for me.”

“I said,” Riley explained, also in French. “I lived with a Greek family when I moved to New York. I’m fluent in Greek too.”

Drake was close to a pout, having failed into busting her. Maxwell is more amendable. “Forgive Drake. Greek and French are taught in schools in Cordonia, but I guess you’ll be using more French, most nobles don’t speak Greek.”

“So, he was just out to get me?”

“Yeah, that sums it up.”

“Jerk.”

New York City, Fall 2015

“What do you mean you’ve lost her?!” The voice screeched on the phone.

“I’m most sorry, but…” He tried to explain himself, but was soon cut off.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it!” The word ‘sorry’ was spit out like it tasted foul. “Haven’t we explained to you how vital is this assignment, or do you just not understand what we tell you to do?!”

“I do understand.” He said, tersely. “And she did escape from me, but all her clothes and cash are still in the apartment.”

“She has her means, you moron!”

“No, no, wait!” He grew nervous. “The painting! The painting is still here!”

There was a short silence on the line.

“Is it?” They said, finally.

“Yes. Yes, it is.” He breathed relieved. “We are monitoring all the airports, bus lines and ships coming in and out of the tri-state area. She won’t be able to leave or to return without our knowledge.”

“Yes… I suppose that is for the best.” The voice conceded. “Leave the underlings in New York and come back. We need to regroup. Bring the painting, with the utmost care.”

The line went dead.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Avlona, Cordonia, Fall 2015

The hour or so of roads down the hills to get to Cordonia’s capital city were uneventful. Maxwell excitedly commented the songs playing on the car’s radio, while Drake brooded.

Riley gave limited attention to Maxwell’s antics, as she worried about the next few months.

As they got closer and closer to the shore, the temperature rose. Up in the airport, it was cooler than New York, the skies were gray, and she heard a Grecian couple talk about the possibility of a hoar-frost that evening. The suburbs of Cordonia’s capital, though, seemed to be living in an eternal summer. The people on the street were scantily-clad, as to resist the heat coming from the pavement, the sun was shining, no sign of rain, much less a frost, on the skies.

“Maxwell,” Riley interrupted his tirade about a rather unknown singer to her.

“Et tous les bourgeois du 16ème/Se demandent pourquoi je t'aime/Pour n'avoir pas besoin d'un zoom/Quand toi et moi on fait boum boum boum,” He sung, not really hearing her.

“Maxwell!” She called a little louder.

“Hm? Oh, yes Riley?”

“Why is so hot in here?” She asked. “Aren’t we in the middle of autumn?”

Drake laughed cruelly. “It is never cold out here. We go to the beach on Christmas.”

“Really?!” She asked, somewhat surprised.

“Not really,” Maxwell corrected. “It gets a little cold on December, but Drake’s right. You won’t be seeing snow in Valona.”

“That’s kinda odd…” Riley said. “Dunno, I guess I’m used to cold weather.”

Maxwell laughed. “You will get plenty cold when we go up the mountains. People say that in Lythikos is never sunny!”

Drake smirked, while Riley pretended she knew where Lythikos was.

They took a turn into a modern city area, with tall, glassy skyscrapers into a residential area, with classy, ancient buildings. Soon enough, they were going up once again, through a wide avenue decorated with flowers. The streets were full of people, though with few cars. There were lots of flags, too, which she assumed was the Cordonian national flag.

The densely built avenue suddenly gave place to a wooden area. As they made a curve to the left, she saw a tall wall and a strongly guarded gate.

Behind all that, there was still a long road and lots of trees, but she could see, glistening on the horizon, the pavilion. It was the Palace of the Brigades, her memory provided. The hill in which Napoleon and the first king of modern Cordonia proclaimed the country’s independence from the Turks. The official residence of the Cordonian monarchy.

“Welcome to your home for the next few months, Riley.” Maxwell told her.

“I didn’t realize I’d be staying in the Royal Palace all this time.” She said, dazzled.

“Most of nobility live here while the season is underway.” The cage system, Riley remembered, very French of them. “Including all the ladies vying for Liam’s hand.”

“Yeah, living under one roof just makes it easier to attend the rose ceremony later.”

Maxwell rolls his eyes. “Drake’s just kidding… About the roses, I guess.”

Maxwell took her to see her room, while Drake went off on his own. A mean thought went through Riley’s head, on the lines of she couldn’t be happier to be rid of the ‘lowly’ company. She wasn’t in the palace for five minutes and she was already snobbier. She laughed inside, partly of jest, but also out of nerves. The next feel months would be interesting.

“So, what’s the deal with Drake?” Riley asked. “Why he’s so jaded?”

“Oh, don’t mind him.” Maxwell answered her as they climbed their way to her room. “Drake’s never really… fit in.”

“Not used to courtly life?”

“Definitely! He’s not of noble blood. He’s always been an outsider here, even if he’s Liam’s friend.” He breathed and stopped by a door. “Here we are. In case if you need something from me or my brother, we’re just next door, okay?”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Yeah, an older brother.” He smiled tersely. “Bertrand of Beaumont, Duke Ramsford. As the eldest, he’s the heir and I’m the spare. You’ll see him tonight, he’ll be excited to meet you.”

Somehow, she didn’t think it’d be the case.

“Maxwell?”

“Yes?”

Riley looked mirthfully at the bed. “Is anything keeping me from jumping on the bed?”

“Only your dignity.”

She laughed. “Fools!”

She ran to the fluffy bed and started jumping and laughing, sighing happily as her weight sinks into the mattress when she got tired.

Life could be grand.

Following Maxwell’s general guidelines about tonight’s event, Riley went down to the seamstress, as in to prepare one of her gowns for the evening, as well as getting herself a mask.

She seems to have chosen a bad moment, as she barged in and a girl was in the nude, changing.

“Oh, God!” Riley exclaimed. “I’m so sorry!”

As Riley turned her back to give some modesty to the girl, she replied: “No problem. To be honest, I didn’t have an appointment. I’m Hana, Hana Lee.”

The black-haired smiled, not that the Asian could see. “I’m Riley Flowers, the girl who’s being sponsored by the Beaumont’s. It’s very nice to meet you!”

“Likewise.” She breathed out. “I suppose you’re also here to prepare for the Masquerade tonight. Assuming you’re here with me now, and not already dressed, I must assume you’re, like me, searching desperately for something to wear.”

Desperate may be the word to put it, considering the current minimalist getup the tanned girl had.

“More or less.” Riley said, neutral. “I’m here to touch up one of my dresses.”

“The seamstress is running late, but I can show you around!”

As Riley turned around, she saw Hana struggling to zip up completely. Helping up her finish, Hana says: “Thank you. Not many girls around are like you.”

“As in helpful?”

“Nice”

As she looks what Riley has in the bag, she exclaims she has the perfect mask to go with it. As she slips it in, she asks Hana: “How do I look?”

“Divine!”

“I don’t understand!” The young girl of seven complains. “Why do I have to come to this stupid party?”

“Well, Dora, that’s just how father is.” Her sister says, while her teenaged fingers arranges the girl’s little, white dress. “You eventually learn to suck it up and go with his evil, mastermind plans, which usually involve us being shown like broodmares.”

Theodora pouted. “But it’s so boring!”

“And it doesn’t get better.” The other girl said. “Why do you think everybody’s drunk by the end of the night?”

The blonde girl giggled.

“Do you know what you must do?” The elder sister checked.

“Enter hand-in-hand with father, give him the rose,” She motioned the flower on her hand. “Dance the first waltz with him, bow and leave.”

The teen smirked. “Perfect. Fortunately for you, no-one will miss you if you find the servant’s girl and scurries off to the gardens. Just avoid tearing your dress, okay?”

“Okay…” Dora deadpanned.

The sister took her hand and walked her over the entrance of the ballroom, where the rest of their family congregated. Her father noticed their arrival, and, dismissing her elder daughter, he kneels to talk to his youngest.

“Are you ready, Dora?”

“Yes, father.” She responded, dutifully, if rather dull.

The man’s lips thinned. “Dora, I know you’d prefer to be doing just about anything else right now, but this is important to us. Can you be a good girl tonight?”

Her eyes were locked to the ground, she did not want her father’s sapphire blue eyes piercing her ones.

“Dora?” He asks, pointedly.

Finally, she nods.

The parent smiles at his daughter, hugging her and kissing her forehead. “Good. Now, let us make this family proud.”

He took her small hand in his and they entered the ballroom with their chins up.

Palace of the Brigades, Avlona, Cordonia, Fall 2015

As they go into the ballroom, the herald announces her as “Lady Riley Flowers of New York”. She admits it does have a ring to it.

Alone and rather lost, she goes to the first familiar face she finds. Drake. Sadly, it lacks in friendliness.

“Good evening, my lady.” He says.

“So you do have manners!” Riley replies.

“Riley?!” He seems astounded. “Is that you?”

“Of course.” She twirls her off-white dress. “Who else?”

“I… I was caught off-guard!” He defends, lamely. “You clean up well.”

“I’m torn.” Riley says with a pointed look. “I can’t decide if you’re being nice or a douche again. Since I’m happy to be here, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

He chose that moment to feel self-conscious. “Looking the part doesn’t mean you’re going to be welcome here, you know?”

“Classy, Drake.”

“Compared to most nobles here, I’m your best friend.” He said, forcefully.

“I know.”

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said.”

She frowns, but chose to ignore the last part. “What I meant is that I know I’m at a snakes’ nest, that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun.”

He sighs. “Look, I’m not trying to be a jerk. I’m just trying to help.”

Half humored, half angered, she says: “You have a very particular way of helping.”

“I’m just saying what I wish someone would have said me a long time ago.”

“Is it, Drake?” She raises an eyebrow. “Is it all there is to it?”

For a second, he seems conflicted, but soon excuses himself to the bar. As he went away, he says: “Good luck, Riley. You’re gonna need it.”

Vienna, Early 2006

Linda Rosa was sipping her coffee, twirling her flaming red hair, looking at the nothing.

“You should be more careful. You’ll end up mugged.” A deep voice rung on her ears.

“I’ve been mugged already, but I don’t carry anything of value aside from my paintings, and I suppose I should be flattered if someone thinks they’re valuable enough to be stolen.”

Drake was unsure whether to be angered or amused by her antics. “I don’t even know what to respond to that.”

She smiled, daring. “You could give me a kiss and say that you love me.”

He smirked. He took her cheek and kissed her passionately, slightly unsuitable for public company, such as they were at a coffeeshop.

“I love you, you know?” Drake told her.

“Yeah, I do, and I love you too.” She smiled, melancholic.

“Why are you so down?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, I’ve just had yet another row with my father.”

“About?”

“Oh, same old, same old. My college major, my clothes, my hair. Teenage rebellion, he says.” She sighed. “Hey, Drake?”

“Yes?”

“What do you think about noble people?”

He choked on his coffee. “What?”

“You know, blue blood, aristocracy, monarchy, privilege, this kind of thing.”

“Why are you asking about that?!”

“While I was rowing with my father, I thought he’d like to ship me off and marry to some well-to-do man, like he’s some kind of blue-blood of the seventeenth century. I just wondered about your opinion of them. You come from a monarchical country, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Cordonia’s a monarchy.”

“Perhaps you would agree with my dad, or think it was cool to have this thing around, at this day and age.” She wondered, with her expression empty. Soon enough, however, it was like her spirit settled itself back into her body. “What do you think about them?” Her eyes drilled him, anxious for an answer.

Drake couldn’t hold eye contact. “For me, they look pretentious and self-serving, but I don’t know, I’ve never met any.”

She turned thoughtful for a moment. “You’re probably right, I guess. Hey, let’s go to the park! I want to walk around, feel the sun!”

“No, it’s too cold.” Drake complained.

“Come on, mister grouchy! I’ll warm you up!”

He tried to keep his neutral face, but the sight of his girlfriend’s smile cracked him up. “Fine. Let’s go.”

She took his arms and they went out the door.

Red Rose - Masterlist

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[pinksausageduo]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1K+

IM SCREAMING WTF YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING genuinely can’t believe i have more than 1000 of you actually liking my blog to the point of following me??!!! I have really bad updates LIKE REALLY BAD like for 2 and half months i’ve been on tumblr i’ve probably only been posting for 1 month and a bit. AND THE FACT YOU STILL ALL LIKE MY WRITINGS AND FOLLOW ME IS CRAZY!! i seriously mean it when i absolutely adore each and everyone of you following my blog like i love you guys so so much. and please don’t be afraid to ever talk to me whether it’s on anon or message whether it’s about how annoying your life is, ranting, my writing, advice, questions, literally anything. i just love you guys sooooo much like wow i never even expected more than 100 followers like i’m mind blown.

so since it is a milestone and usually most blogs do something, i did prepare a present for my followers and another one for my mutuals because i love you all.

FOR MY FOLLOWERS: A NEW SERIES!!!!!

i know i have still my enemies to lovers series that i need to complete and i will do that but there will be a new series and YOU GUYS GET TO CHOOSE which one I write first either;

Heirs 

located in an expensive private school, wanna one is known as the Heirs. they’re all extremely rich, good looking, talented and basically the kings of the school. each guy will have a girl that catches their eye, those girls will be you! from the quick witted and sassy scholarship student to the extremely rich ice princess who no one wants to even approach to the shy sweet nobody, one member will fall for you. choose to find out!

so will you choose the heirs??

Bodyguards

wanna one is a team of bodyguards assigned to people who need protection. over the years each and every one of them finds themselves falling for someone on the job. but falling in love isn’t part of the job or is it? they’ll fall for you! from the president’s daughter to another intelligence agency’s spy to even a princess, one member will fall for you. choose to find out!

so will you choose the bodyguards??

HOW TO CHOOSE

message me by kkt or tumblr

comment below

reblog with which one

choose in poll : https://goo.gl/forms/G4GrlZEfOPL30jnP2

CHOOSING WILL CLOSE IN AROUND 2 WEEKS ON 11/11/17 

please vote!!! i’ll love you all forever if you do!!!! 

FOR MY MUTUALS/PEOPLE I ADMIRE & FOLLOW: FOLLOW FOREVER/RECS/DESCRIPTION

WANT TO GIVE OUT A HUGE SHOUTOUT TO MY MUTUALS AS WELL AND IT’LL BE KINDA A FOLLOW FOREVER/RECS (it’ll be long asf (like REALLY long) so i’ll put it under keep reading) this will be in all three person sorry :( 

EVERYONG: i love y'all sm we all so so crazy and we occasionally talk about writing but eh it’s really just a mess but making our gc was one of the best decisions i made on tumblr AND IM SO SORRY if i don’t have you down below but i’m giving you all my love and appreciation rn here!!! BUT JUST LOVE YOU ALL!!

FIRST OF ALL SHOUTOUT TO DIAMOND @woojiniee FOR ENCOURAGING ME TO START THIS BLOG I WOULDN’T BE HERE WITHOUT YOU. lol it’s weird how my blog started from helping you w your english homework on harry potter lmao. i genuinely love you so so much and i admire you, your works and your blog and just thank you for everything!

ALSO A HUGE SHOUTOUT TO JAS @perkwoojin!!!! MY ABSOLUTE LOVE AND MY BEST FRIEND!! jas you’ve been here for me whether it’s irl problems or tumblr problems and you’ve never judged me for anything i’ve done. you are so so so special to me and i just love you soooo much i genuinely can’t imagine not meeting you on tumblr. we hit it off right from the start and we’ve only gotten closer. while the time difference may be annoying we still talk often and just thank you so much for always being there for me, love you loads!!!

MY SENPAIS (the people who inspired me to write and start this blog, i would literally check your blog for updates everyday before starting this blog) :

@imagineproduce101 genuinely think carina is the queen of writing in the pd101/wanna one fandom, she’s blessed us with so many fics on such a regular basis i’ve never talked to you personally and you probs have no idea who i am but just want to say thank you so much for inspiring me to write, your fics always made me feel so soft and fluffy i wanted to make other people feel that way so thank you!!! 

fic recs: rivals (pleaseee do pt 2), what are you waiting for, let me love you, banana milk love, red bull, new beginnings, all of mafia aus, all of hp aus, all of vampire aus 

@woojiniee i’ve already mentioned diamond^ but gonna mention her again cause she is one of my senpais LITERALLY SOOOO GOOD WRITING LIKE WTH PLEASE LET ME LIVE she’s less busy now so IM WAITING FOR UPDATES GIRLL but seriously check out all of her fics will not be disappointed

fic recs: alpaca boy saves the day, crushing on you, jaehwan soulmate au, dating a park at a park

@wanna-request-one​ such great paragraph writings mine will never live up to theirs writing is so amazing just so great if you want detailed long writing the best blog to go to all of them are AMAZING WRITERS congrats on 1.8K!!

fic recs: seongwoo soulmate, seongwoo brother’s best friend, jaehwan college, I HATE YOU IM YOUNGMIN (literally so in love w this fic)

@wanna-one-scenarios amazing writer!!! so so so niceeee she’s starting college rn so v busy i miss youuu we never get to chat but its okayyy BUT LIKE SHIT WRITING IS SOOOO ON POINT LIKE WTH just go through her whole master list won’t regret it

fic recs: DANIEL PRINCE AU!!! (like if y’all haven’t read this missing out on sm), jongyun father au, sewoon enemies to lovers au

@wannaonestars love reading her writing such great bullet points and really good ideas ALSO SO JEALOUS that like short bullet points BUT CAN MAKE ME FEEL SO FLUFF like that is a skill ppl 

fic recs: all of boyfriend series (like so fluff) ESPECIALLY SEONGWOO’S, jihoon soulmate, minhyun office au

@jsioos (was heochannies) MEIKE IS SO PRETTY AND NICE AND AN AMAZING WRITER LIKE WHAT HOW CAN YOU BE SO BLESSED has such a diverse range of works from scenarios to mtls to reactions so genuinely impressed with her blog like goals

fic recs: all of boyfriend series FOR EVERY SINGLE GROUP like she’s amazing at those, and movie night with seongwoo

@ukulelewrites ALSO LONG ASS FICS AMAZING BLOG seriously such amazing writing love so many fics of hers DESERVES MORE ATTENTION AND FOLLOWERS and super sweet as well 

fic recs: cherry picker’s club, a fanta-sea, homerun and ephiany (it’s nct ten BUT SUCH AN AMAZING FIC NEED TO PUT IT ON HERE)

@kanggdaniell STEPH IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND SO NICE AND RLY BUSY AS WELL but amazing writer just love her writing so much she isn’t as active as before but still should definitely check out master list cause so many amazing scenarios

fic recs: TSUNDERE (FUCK FUCK READ IT RN BEST SERIES FOR ME ON TUMBLR WOOJIN STANS COLLECT YOUR BOI), always in my heart, all of breakup scenarios, all of bad boy scenarios

ANOTHER SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO IRIS AKA @alliwannado-w1 LITERALLY RELATES W ALL MY WRITING PROBLEMS ON A PERSONAL LEVEL IS THE ABSOLUTE SWEETEST CARES SO MUCH ABOUT HER WORKS, BLOG AND FOLLOWERS I LOVE HER WRITING AND ADMIRE HOW DEDICATED SHE IS TO POST SO REGULARLY just i rly should stop writing in caps but like just genuinely she is the princess of writing in the pd101/wanna one fandom and she’s just so so amazing and all her writings are always so much fun to read like i love her so much but like no offence iris but you’re fucking crazy in the best way possible like to have so many wips like GIRL YOU NEED A BREAK 

fic recs: FUCKBOY SERIES (iris got all her fame from here lol jk), daniel werewolf au, jihoon soulmate au, jihoon vampire au, woojin youtuber au, woojin policeman au, jinyoung barista au, sewoon soulmate au, youngmin youtuber au gonna stop there cause i’ll be listing her whole master list soon ;)

AMAZING WRITERS (just to give heads up have liked these recommended fics on another private account so if you like look at the likes and i’m not there that’s the reason):

@daehwifi​​ GENUINELY LOVE THESE TWO SO SO MUCH AND THEY’RE BOTH RIDICULOUSLY TALENTED and hella sweet like cutest married couple ik TIFFY thank youuu for always making me smile and MAE for being the sweetest angel but YOUR WRITING IS ALSO HELLA GOOD like great bullet point fics and regular updates 

fic recs: bandaid guanlin scenario, movies ongniel scenario, skype calls jinyoung scenario 

@deepdickdaniel​​ ARIANE EVERYONG GC MOTHER (aurora’s dad now) and the ultimate HOE for daniel but got guys chasing after her constantly SMH and all our gc is beautiful because of your genes ANYWAYS you’re also a good ass writer and if anyone wants bomb ass daniel fics FOLLOW ARIANES BLOG YALL

fic recs: doormat, all her soulmate aus especially taste, hiking w daniel

@dong-hyucks​ oKAY so jade has only like one fic on wanna one BUT SHE’S SUPER TALENTED AND SHE DOES SO MANY GROUPS like mutlifandom ASF AND I LOVE HER ALOT 

fic recs: daniel soulmate au, na jaemin spy au, i’m with you taeyong

@donghyxns​​​ IF YALL WANT MXM SCENARIOS/CONTENT THIS SHIT IS RIGHT HERE also has a lot of wanna one scenarios but maddie is the biggest donghyun fan ik and super sweet even though we haven’t talked much!

fic recs: royalty au donghyun, actually all the royalty aus,  TIC TOK WOOJIN SOULMATE AU, youngmin as your boyfriend

@ennergetics​​ RAE my favourite drunk aunt ever like super funny and nice and talking about bts is always great with you RAE YOU ALSO LIKE AN AMAZING WRITER and make me feel all sorts of stuff when i read your works

edit: fuck me im so sorry rae lmao idk if it was the fact i wrote this at 3am or I'm terrible speller originally or it was auto correct IDEK BUT ILYSM DONT HATE MEEEEE

fic recs: bad first dates, prince aus, woojin college/barista au

@fromwannaone​​ ANNIE A COMPLETE UTTER SWEETHEART WITH WRITING SKILLS which put me to shame and fic ideas are always sooo good too just fuck meeeee i love youuu and your writing 

fic recs: ALL HER SCHOOL SERIES which is like all members basically sooo, on rainy days, sweet like candy

@hiyawoojin​​ RISSAAAA MY BABY MY PRECIOUSSSS I WANT TO PROTECT YOU AND HUG YOU AND LOVE YOU FOREVER but genuinely rissa is the sweetest person ik on tumblr and her sweetness is as equal to her writing BUT SINCE SHE’S A NEWBIE EVERYONE GIVE HER LOVE

fic recs: ALL OF THEM since there’s about 4 but i like the woojin and the minhyun in particular hehehe

@hwinkinghwi​​ XUAN WE BONDED INSTANTLY YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME SMILE AND LAUGH and we talk about the weirdest things but it’s still heaps of fun and xuan has short sweet bullet point fics which will warm your heart

fic series: both baejin fics: chicken first cuddles later, florist jinyoung, baker woojin, ___ as your boyfriend (all of them)

@jeonjeonggukks​​ I LOVE ALEX SM SERIOUSLY SO SO SO FUNNY LIKE WTH and sooooo easy to slander BUT SHE IS MY MOTHER (well one of them) AND I LOVE HER SO SO MUCH AND SHE’S ALSO AN AMAZING ASS WRITER so y’all should read her writings

fic recs: shipped jonghyun scenario, our necklaces sungwoon soulmate au, why her why him woojin

@jihoonslattee​​ AHHH WE JUST STARTED TALKING CHI BUT I ALREADY LOVE YOU AND JUST WOW YOUR WRITING IS INCREDIBLE WISH I COULD BE YOU AND HAS SOOOO MANY FICS DONE LIKE IM SO IMPRESSED wow i did that in all caps but like JIHOON STANS WHO WANT JIHOON FICS like chi’s blog like 100% recommend also does reactions SO CHECK HER OUT 

fic recs: jihoon prince au (this was sooo good), daniel CEO both parts, seongwoo boyfriend au, jihoon soulmate au

@mongniel​​ AURORA OUR SALTY ASS MOTHER/FATHER who leaves us regularly and is a daniel seongwoo stan (she says so at least) BUT LIKE GOTTA APPRECIATE HER ABILITY TO MAKE ME FEEL SO MUCH SHIT WITH HER ANGST also if y'all love angst daniel fics AURORA’S BLOG IS THE ONE FOR YOU

fic recs: BROKEN RECORD (heart BREAKING), no chance no way, in his dreams, no answer

@peachiejihoonie​​ SAYS IN DESCRIPTION SHE’S BAD AT WRITING BUT THAT’S RIDICULOUS her writing is sooooo good like not too many fics up BUT ALL OF THEM ARE AMAZING like what??

fic recs: demigod series, daniel fuckboy 

@perkwoojin​​ IVE ALREADY MENTIONED JAS CAUSE SHES MY ONE ETERNAL LOVE but genuinely wtf so talented I AM SHOOK she does EVERYTHING like gifs, reactions, scenarios AND SHE HAS TWO OTHER BLOGS for the boyz and stray kids fans CHECK THOSE BLOGS OUT TOO

fic recs: basically everything but in particular wanna one as prom dates, wanna one reacting to you how to solve a rubix cube, and all her series which include: boyfriend, fallen angel, AND check out woojin badboy pt 1 & 2 and now ive literally listed her whole master list whoopss

@playfuldisaster​​ CHRISTINE IS SUCH A SWEETHEART LIKE WOW genuinely like an angel AND I LOVE TALKING TO HER but she also has so many works up! WHICH NEED MORE ATTENTION cause they’re so good

fic recs: and i’m here seongwoo, attention baejin, my boy lollipop baejin, sorry kang daniel

@producedwannaone​​ SO UNDERRATED LIKE WHAT HOW EVERYONE WAKE UP also honey I NEED A MASTERLIST like need to stalk your blog easily yooo but seriously such a great writer and a sweetheart x 

fic recs: wanna one seeing their donsaeng in their t shirt, naps with guanlin

@starrywinters​​ SHEENA YOU HAVE SHARED MY PAIN OF HAVING SEONGWOO AS A BIAS WRECKER but like other than that you mean so so much to me you are positively brilliant in every single way AND DON’T TELL YOURSELF OTHERWISE seriously AND IT INCLUDES YOUR WRITING SKILLS 

fic recs: cute bandaids, minhyun college au, 7 minutes in heaven jihoon, hugs woojin, guanlin soulmate/vampire au

@wannabeone​​ just dammnnnn girl your writing is SO GOOD LIKE WHAT?? always makes me feel all nice inside just love reading your works fic recs: all of best friend lovers (like you will not be disappointed), kissing cuddling hugging wanna one

@wannamoon​​ JUJU IK YOU’RE ON HIATUS AND YOU HAVEN’T REPLIED TO MY MESSAGES CRI but i miss your baejin fangirl squealing and your posts which will be filled with sadness cause it’s you lmao BUT COME BACK SOON I MISS YOU AND I LOVE YOU but juju has such a good mix of fluff and angst fics and super unique and heart warming ideas

fic recs: crumble both parts guanlin, ALL HER LIFE AUS LIKE FUCK SUCH GOOD FLUFF, halcyon seongwoo, jihoon soulmate au

@wannaonescenarios​ SERIOUSLY SUCH GREAT SHORT FLUFF WRITINGS LIKE WHAT HOW I WISH and has a long ass masterlist WHICH IS AMAZING TO GO THROUGH just like go right now to her blog amazing writings IS AVAILABLE

fic recs: SOULMATE AU SERIES, dating series, college series (even tho it’s only youngmin), daniel cat cafe owner 

@wannasoftimagine​​ OMG SUCH AMAZING FICS BUT DOES ANYONE KNOW PHI WENT?? like she hasn’t updated in 2 weeks? or replied to messages? like does anyone know?? but if she’s on an hiatus without mentioning well idrk but phi’s works make me feel so so soft like super duper fluffy and always read them for a cheer up 

fic recs: ALL SOULMATE SERIES, classmate woojin, boyfriend woojin, and all of wanna one _____

@wannasseu​​ CYN CYN OMG I LOVE YOU SO MUCH PEOPLE CYN IS THE QUEEN OF ANGST if anyone says otherwise FITE ME drown in my tears whenever i read one of her angsts WHICH IS LIKE ALL THE TIME ugh cyn what are you doing to me BUT CONTRARY TO THE ANGSTY FICS SHE WRITES cyn is such a FLUFFY person 

fic recs: ALL HER EX BOYFRIEND SERIES especially seongwoo’s (i ranted to cyn for a straight hour about that fic lol), custard kisses, arranged marriage 

@wannatales​​ GREAT SHORT FLUFFS THAT YALL WANNA READ RECOMMENDING FOR STANS OF MAKNAE LINE since writings are only maknae line works always makes me feel all fluffy and gooey insideeee

fic recs: JACKET GUANLIN (fuck such a cute scenarios can’t deal), fool woojin, milk jihoon

@wannawrite​​ SO MANY FICS FOR SO MANY FANDOMS but like the wanna one master list IS HELLA LONG haven’t ever talked to admin N BUT I LOVE YOUUUUU LAETITA DATITA RISEEEE (is that how to spell it i can’t even remember) BUT ANYWAYS soooooo good fics like always love reading them just genuinely great writings 100% of the time

fic recs: FLOWER BOY SERIES LIKE YESSS, vamp series, i latte you very much minhyun, bffs to bf daniel, colourless soulmate au woojin, this isn’t part of the plot guanlin

@wanna-17​​ CATH OMG MY OLDER FUTURE TWIN IDEK i love you so so much and chatting you is always fun BUT you have so many mtls like wow I'm mind blown BUT YOUR FICS ARE ALSO SUPER GOOD 

fic recs: wanna one first meeting series, and any of the mtls you want to know about

@whatabrightplace​​ AHHH TINA PLEASE PLEASE WRITE FOR WANNA ONE YOUR WRITING IS ALREADY AMAZING AND DON’T BE SCARED JUST TAKE A LEAP OF FAITH wow I'm being rly dramatic but idc i want to see you produce wanna one writing content (did you see what i did there ;) ) ANYWAYS i also wanted to tell you i love youuuu

fic recs: HER RECENT DANIEL SCENARIO FUCK stars + you for our precious mother ariane and basically everything on her masterlist even tho it isn’t wanna one or pd101

@101scenes​​ JUST CUTE ASF SCENARIOS (at least the ones i’ve read) got me squealing and SOFT like such great writing 

fic recs: LATTE ART daniel scenario, guanlin soulmate au, ceo jihoon

TEXT BLOGS (not gonna do fic recommendations cause they’re texts and it’s harder to choose specific ones):

@laignlin​​ LILY I LOVE YOU AND I WANT TO TALK TO YOU MORE LIKE TIME DIFFERENCE AND SCHOOL SUCKS but our chats are always the best and it’s always hella nice talking to you BUT YOU’RE ALSO A GREAT WRITER AND AMAZING TEXT MAKER so i ended up putting you in text author lol also IM STILL YOUR PROM DATE but everyone just read through all of lily’s texts and scenarios cause they’re all on point asf

@pwjins​ I GENUINELY ADORE ALLISON BUT SHE HATES ME AND WE HAVE THIS BITCH FEUD THING GOING ON BUT WHATEVER I LOVE HER ALOT AND IK YOU GOING THROUGH A TOUGH TIME AND NEED A BREAK BUT LIKE I’M HERE FOR YOU TUMBLR HERE’S FOR YOU but i love allison’s texts they always make me smile and laugh and like my heart literally warms SHE ALSO WRITES occasionally so check those out and i don’t have any in particular but like the gc texts are always good and the CHANGING THE NAME LIKE LMAO that’s also amazing just check it all out BUT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ALLISON 

@texts101 YOUR TEXTS ARE SOOOO GOOD JUST THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR MAKING THEM like they never disappoint I LOVE the best friend, boyfriend, gc and name switch texts the most BUT LITERALLY ALL OF YOUR TEXTS ARE AMAZING and ik you taking a hiatus now SO PLEASE TAKE A GOOD REST AND FOCUS ON SCHOOL and don’t stress at all cause all your followers will still be here and ready for your return

@w1talks ANGELA IK YOU DO SCENARIOS AND TEXTS but the scenario list was getting WAYYY TOO LONG to put you there anyways I LOVE YOUR TEXTS AND YOUR SCENARIOS your writing is amazing but your texts are also great LIKE MULTI TALENTED MUCH and I ABSOLUTELY ADORED wanna one finding you went on a date with jinyoung BUT I ALSO ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOUUU

INCORRECT QUOTES BLOGS (not gonna do fic recommendations cause they’re quotes and there are hundreds):

@incorrect-produce101-quotes​ SUPER DUPER FUNNY and like totally could imagine your quotes being said by the guys and love how there’s a lot of the pd101 guys as welll 

@incorrect-wanna-one-quotes​ you were one of the first blogs i followed and your quotes NEVER fail to make me at least smile like i have properly cracked up laughing on multiple occasions because of your quotes and i just feel like my day becomes a little brighter when i see you on my dash

TALENTED ASF GIF MAKERS:

@daewi​ just really nice and cute gifs which are soooo aesthetically pleasing together also all your reblogs are just great AND I ADORE YOUR HS YEARBOOK AWARD THEMES 

@defsouldanik​ LITERALLY IM IN SUCH AWE OF YOU LIKE THE GIFS YOU MAKE IS ALWAYS LIKE THE MOMENTS I WANT GIFFED?? and like all your got7 content makes me happy as well and just THE QUALITY IS SOOO GOOD AS WELL

@kimsjaehwan​ ONE OF MY ULT FAV GIF MAKERS always gifs are so nice and the gifs are always hella good quality just always makes me smile when i see them 

@kngniel​ YOU WANT BASICALLY PERFECT GIFS OF DANIEL HERE IS THE BLOG FOR YOU genuinely so many gifs you’ve made of him smiling and just MAKES ME FEEL SOFTTT 

@ongeuigeon​ SUCH AMAZING GIFS WTF like the gifs in a set always match perfectly with each other in every way AND I LOVE IT WHEN YOU ADD YOUR OWN LITTLE COMMENTS IN it always make the gif that much better 

@parkswoojin REALLY NICE GIFS and like you regularly make new ones so thank youuu for that and just really nice quality AND IN GENERAL A GREAT GIF BLOG TO FOLLOW

@park-woojin​ I LOVE YOU JUST FOR EXISTING AND MAKING WOOJIN GIFS LIKE all of your gifs are so nice and clean and great ass quality AND SINCE ITS WOOJIN i always smile my ass off whenever i see any of your gifs 

@rosybaejin AMAZING ASS GIFS LIKE WOWOOWOWOWOW mind fucking blown y'all AND also in general amazing blog to follow great baejin content

@sungwhoon really pretty high quality edits and gifs AND LIKE THE COLOURS ALWAYS LOOK AMAZING just so nice to look at your gifs

@woojinnies WHAT WOULD WE DO WITHOUT YOU IN THIS FANDOM genuinely believe you are a staple piece of creating gifs in this fandom YOUVE MADE SOOOO MANY AND THEY’RE ALL SOOO GOOD like you have A GIFT just thank youuuu for making your gifs 

OTHER GREAT BLOGS:

@boo-jinyoung​​​ summer you’re an amazing ass dancer like woah and totally a baejin stan even tho you deny it CONSTANTLY and you are a  complete sweetheart everyone follow for HELLA GOOD jinyoung and guanlin content 

@crystalkpop​ I LOVE YOUUU THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR BEING ONE OF MY BIGGEST SUPPORTERS AND LIKING/COMMENTING MY WORKS JUST I APPRECIATE YOU SO MUCH

@dearlydaehwi AMAZING DAEHWI CONTENT LIKE DAMN like i love seeing the smol soft bean and you DELIVER like all daehwi stand should follow you just daehwi overload in the absolute best way possible

@extraongdinary LITERALLY PROVIDES ALL THE SEONGWOO CONTENT I NEED and reblogs good ass content SO HAPPY ASF leah ily even tho we’ve never talked you just ultra great 

@fywannaone​ JUST THANK THE LORDS FOR YOU best updates such great pictures literally don’t need to follow any other blogs cause like SO FAST just constantly blessing me with wanna one content SO THANK YOU 

@ricepot-jisung​ I KNOW YOURE A WRITER BUT I HAVEN’T HAD TIME TO READ YOUR WORKS which i bet are amazing AND TBH JUST FOLLOWED YOU BECAUSE YOU REPOSTED GOOD ASS CONTENT AND SEEMED SUPER NICE AND PERSONAL POSTS WERE RELATABLE ASF (whoops wrote all that in caps) 

@soft-baejin BRI we’ve barely talked since i’m never on the gc but you’re super duper sweet and nice and also have a really nice blog and you reblog really good jinyoung content and great content in general 

@wooh00jin SUPER SWEET and adores woojin great ships and i bet you have so many flooding in when ships are open cause you put so much detail into them and GREAT WOOJIN CONTENT  

@asongofmagicandtime | @sewnho | @lai-panlin | thank you for always being nice to me on the gc and I'm sad its not as active as before but all three of you are SUCH SWEETHEARTS and have GREAT ASS CONTENT on your blogs

MY FAVOURITE MUTUALS/CLOSE FRIENDS (which have not been mentioned above or i just felt like putting you here lmao):

@danielsoftgf​ DIAN YOU WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME NO MORE SENDING GIFS OF KOOKIE TAE N WOOJIN LIKE YOU RLY WANNA KILL ME but you so so soft for daniel it’s sweet but also so easy to exploit hehehe but i can see seongwoo just around the corner ;) but genuinely love your blog it’s so so so nice and chatting with you is the best I LOVE YOUUUU

@hyuckland​ OKAY IK WE JUST STARTED TALKING TINA AND I HAVEN’T GOT THE CHANCE TO STALK YOUR BLOG YET so i can’t really properly comment on anything BUT ONE THING I CAN is that you’re an absolute sweetheart and you made me feel SO MUCH BETTER with your messages BUT IK WE’RE GONNA BECOME HELLA CLOSE 

@jaehwansspookywife LUCY LUCY LUCY you are the funniest person ever you are so nice and sweet and hilarious and conversations never get boring w you we don’t talk THAT often but when we do i always genuinely enjoy it love youuuuu ALSO OBSESSED W JAEHWAN DON’T LET HER i don’t think he’s cute FOOL YOU

@kpopsincejune07​ JEN I LOVE YOU you were one of my first fans and you’ve been a huge supporter ever since AND WE BECAME CLOSER and talk when our stupid time zones all us lol and please don’t stress about work and take care of yourself also thank you for always reposting great fics BUT IM WAITING ON YOURSSS PLEASE PLEASE POST YOUR FIC i am waiting till this day for it ily

@ongsecngwoo​ GINNY MY LOVEEEEE i always love talking with you our conversations are always good and hella fun even tho we end up replying hours/days after EH ITS TIMEZONES but also i love your blog it’s so pretty AND THE CONTENT YOU REBLOG just yes yes yes also DONT STRESS ABOUT SCHOOL TOO MUCH AND YOU BETTER TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF but also you haven’t replied to my messages in ages so i hope everything’s okay?? i just love you loads :)))

@parkkwoojin ace we don’t talk as much as before but I STILL CARE AND LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH you’re soon easy to slander but since i promised to be sweet i’m being sweet hehehe BUT GENUINELY YOU POST BOMB ASS GIFS AND ALWAYS IMPRESSED BY THEM and your gifs of woojin OOFT MY HEART DIESSSS just thank you for existing

@porkjeojang SUMMER OMG SUMMER YOU ARE SUCH A SOFT SWEETHEART WHICH I LOVE SO MUCH but you can also be one HELL OF A BITCH sometimes ya know?? also she says she’s loyal to jihoon but IVE SEEN HER EYEING DANIEL UP but she super multi talented making pixels, gifs, mood boards and writing scenarios LIKE TEACH ME YOUR SECRETS but i love you so much and without you my dashboard wouldn’t be complete

@spooky-jihoon NAIA IK WE AIN’T THAT CLOSE BUT YOU WERE ONE OF MY FIRST MUTUALS I TALKED TO sooo i put you here hope you don’t mind I MISS YOU A LOT you’re a literal angel AND PROBABLY THE MOST DEVOTED JIHOON FAN I KNOW like jihoon content right here ppl right here and ik you won’t see this after your hiatus BUT I LOVE YOUU 

@wannabl​ okay hana we haven’t talked in fucking ages cause i felt like you just didn’t really want to chat ya know? especially cause you’re so so busy w irl stuff but like i do really really miss you and i’ve actually sent a few anons saying that i do miss you and wanting to see how you’ll react never got a reply :( but genuinely in awe of how easily you make friends and that you have so many different types of works and i’m so glad you have so many people that recognise that like your anons (and i’m sorry if i was too overly jokingly bitchy) and everyone just go through her master list or just check out her blog cause genuinely such a funny person and has amazing content on there

@wanna-one MERVE you’re my sister/protecter from all things bad (like makeout scenes lmao) but even though you “hate” daniel you have your sweet ASF moments about him you basically confess you love everything about him AND SO MUCH DANIEL CONTENT ON YOUR BLUG BUT you’re always tired and stressed and i wish you were decently okay and happy but remember you’re so sweet ridiculously smart AND i still need to see a photo of you anyways i love you sooooo much and so does daniel ;)

@woojinstinygf OMG KITTY YOU ARE SUCH A SWEETHEART AND PROBABLY THE MOST DEVOTED WOOJIN FAN IK (sorry all those woojin stans out there but like kitty takes it to ANOTHER LEVEL) i always love chatting w you and you always make feel so soft and happy ANYONE WANTS WOOJIN CONTENT OR SWEET WORDS OR ANYTHING ABOUT WOOJIN OR STRAY KIDS LMAO FOLLOW N MESSAGE KITTY (not actually her irl name but she tells ppl to call her that soooo ya)

IM SORRY IF I MISSED YOU PLEASE PLEASE MESSAGE ME SO I CAN ADD YOU ONTO THE LIST 

I LOVE YOU ALL BUT AGAIN VOTE!!!! MAGU MAGUUUUUU!!!!

[duskholland]

Favourite blog(s)? Love your blog~♡ and you of course!

hi nonnie. I love you !!

before I dive in, I’m just going to disclose that I’m really deep in the ‘oh my god I love my friends so much???’ mood so it’s likely I’m just going to ramble at you for a wee while. I’ll try n keep it short. bottom line is, follow everyone I’m about to rec. also, I split the list into (approximate) fandoms to make it easier for myself aha. FOLLOW THEM ALL!

UPDATE: this took me an entire hour. I’m not kidding. I really…I really love my friends. it also ended up being so long that it required a keep reading…

Dylan // Teen Wolf (pretty much…):

@savage-stilinski gotta start off w my fave. I’ve known Julia since our 5sos days and we actually used to be in a group chat together about…geez…I have no idea how long it’s been? it feels like a million years ago. she’s lovely though. I love her n her blog is Quality Content. we’re also working on a collab that’ll be coming out soon so look out for that!!!

@isacclahys Krystal is a gem. that’s the bottom line. we’ve been pals forever and the day I stop recommending her blog and incredible writing is the day I kick the bucket. it’s all amazing; she’s the best. and also the only one I trust to correct my grammar 😂

@lovefilledtragedy gotta give some love to Audrey! she ruined my life by introducing me to Spring Awakening (it’s a musical. it’ll end you. it ended me). also,,,she has a really cute dog and she’s just ??? so, so lovely (Audrey but I guess this also applies to Cookie lmao) !! your dash will be improved x1000 by following her. 

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone sticking w the theme of Audrey, this is another Audrey who I love love l o v e. she’s so friendly - so friendly - and her blog is just such a positive place to be!

@ninja-stiles Brittttttt! follow her!! fun story, so she and Audrey (lovefilledtragedy Audrey) have managed to both corrupt me. they infect each other with their obsessions (COUGH Frank Dillane,,,,markiplier) and then somewhere along the lines I get caught in the crossfire. they’ve caused me to obsess over people I don’t even know ?? but like, really…Britt’s amazing. her blog is great, her writing is great, she is great. I will rec her til the day I die. 

@thelittlestkitsune wooooords cannot simply describe how much I love Lau’s blog. her writing is exquisite. it’s all amazing, but I highly suggest reading Faded and CEO. she’s such a great writer and an even better person. there’s nothing more to say bc I just think she’s great and honestly…I can’t believe I’m actually friends w her??? 😂

@skepticalstilinski ayyyy Fiona’s a lovely human being. v sweet, v open, v friendly. she’s just great!! (I’m…I’m running out of descriptive phrases but just know she’s a m a z i n g!)

@were-cheetah-stiles I’m just gonna slip in this lil one and tell you that if you don’t follow Cat you’re really missing out. her writing ends me. ends me. she’s the reason I was CRYING FOR AN HOUR LAST NIGHT. cough. not kidding. happy tears tho but….still tears. (and it was actually an hour too??? so, so long?). all her writing is amazing but I suggest starting with The Mistake and going from there…if you’re still alive. she’s great, too, and is definitely a very very positive addition to my dash

@redstringlovers Sammie is loooovely. so, so sweet and incredibly nice. (I’m running out of adjectives here but just know she’s basically just a sunbeam). her blog is a great place n will greatly improve your tumblr experience!

@golddaggers I love this blog. so much (SO MUCH). we’ve never really interacted before but they seem so lovely and just….. there’s some incredible writing right there.

@wittystiles ugh. Sam’s writing. don’t get me started, I won’t be able to shut up 😂😂 amazing !! brilliant !! fantastic !! just…fucking awesome, nonnie. check it out! check her out bc she’s also amazing? 

@rememberstilinski listen. I remember when Kenzie followed me verrrry clearly. picture this: I’m at my best friend’s house. we’re chilling, watching Buzzfeed Unsolved. it’s calm (well…as calm as it can be with Ryan s c r e a m i n g) until I refresh my notifications. I pause. I gasp. I can’t believe my eyes. my friend looks at me, asks if I’m okay. and god. this is fucking embarrassing and I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t EVER tell this story cbbesfhofuh OKAY ANYWAY I look at my friend and I’m like ‘I can die now. let the angel of death take me’. I’m not kidding. my friend thought (and still thinks) I’m fucking crazy. I ended up almost crying. it was..odd…it was just a really surreal experience that Kenzie liked my blog enough to follow me. I’d liked her blog for so long and I just could NOT believe it. but yeah, Kenzie’s blog is just brilliant. her writing is incredible, she seems like an amazing person (and lowkey every time she reblogs my writing I just die). so yeah. add her to the list of people to check out because FUCK she is great. okay I’m done now I’m sorry for the massive tangent and also @/kenzie if you read this I want you to know that I’m not weird or anything I just really love your blog ahahaha 😂

@maddie110201 such a loooooovely girl. amazing blog, too. follow follow follow.

okay…here’s me getting lazy and deciding that my fingers hurt…

everyone I’m about to list is AMAZING and I would’ve typed them a little bit individually but…I’m lazy…I’m sorry. most of them are writers and HOLY FUCK do I recommend their writing.

@fillthevoid-stilinski @mf-despair-queen  @minhosmeanhoe (girl I fucking adore your URL) @laheyinfatuate @susybird @sumcp  @void-obriens  @ellie-bee242   @inkstiles @dylan-trash-tbh  @writing-obrien @bonniebird  @dumbass-stilinski @obrosey-af @werewolfmutant @iknowisoundcrazy @behind-my-hazeleyes27 @stilinski-jpeg @stilinskiimagines @molesandmischief @stilinski-lover-24 @stilinski-stydia-obrien  @lovelydob 

RIGHT MOVING ONTO EVERYONE ELSE. I’m gonna lump y’all under misc because that’s a lot easier than trying to individually classify everyone according to blogs, n stuff. let’s do this.

Misc: 

@swooncalumswoon  my ride or die. follow Ellie, read her writing, l o v e her. I know I do.

@penelope-clearwaters Demi is amazing. she isn’t active on tumblr much anymore but…again…the day I stop rec-ing her blog is the day I die. SUCH A LOVELY WOMAN. 

@irwinscuddlebuddy Alice is just amazing. I love her so, so much. similar to her blog, she is a High Quality Person.

@truthorclifford Mason’s pickup lines…legendary. she’s brilliant, her blog is equally as amazing! follow for a great tumblr time!! (I feel like a car salesman?)

@irwxnhugsx Sandra is lovely n her mood boards are bloody incredible. follow her also

again…I’m lazy…so just follow the rest of the ppl here. they’re all brilliant. 10/10.

@belameblake  @lostincalum @constant-calum  @like-screams-set-on-fire  @lukesafallingstar  @herewegoagainniall @calumhoodpainsme @candescentcalum @caffeinatedcalum @wastethemuke @ihatethisbandsos @mangoeharry  

[sootonthecarpet]

if it's not too much trouble to answer, can I ask what's been the going on with doctor who that's bad? I've seen little bits of it when my parents watch it in the other room but not enough to really get a good sense of it?

heyyy sorry to keep ya waiting on this. i tried to keep this as short as i could, but it’s about five paragraphs long, sorry. it’s not in any way a comprehensive list of problems with the last few seasons, just a quick tour of the moments i shouldve let be my ‘i can’t keep watching after this’ point. i wanted to write it objectively but i got pretty aggro, bc this show that in some part i genuinely adore has been producing unforgivably bigoted content. (it’s kinda a ship of theseus situation, except where the parts of the ship were replaced with worse, shittier, fake-woke parts.) i ask ppl to avoid reblogging this, because i don’t want my words to contribute in any way to online buzz surrounding this show or make anyone want to see it, even if ONLY to hatewatch or criticize.

content warning for misogynoir/antiblackness, racism, bury ur gays, some shit with nazi germany (yeah lol) and just the slightest kiss of antisemitism.

(edit: i seem to be having some problems with the read more cut. it’s there on dash view and when i edit the post, but doesn’t show on some instances of my blog. i can’t fix this but gksfkgls. wanted to at least be overt that i wouldn’t post this kinda long ranty stuff without a cut.)

in the last season where peter capaldi was the doctor, two seasons ago now, he had a new companion, Bill. she was a black lesbian and literally the only reason i started watching doctor who again. i loved her, and i was really glad to see the show moving back towards the more diverse cast of characters that we saw in the late aughts. then the season had a repeated theme of FORCING her to either repress or not feel her emotions. there are two scenes that stand out most to me. in an ep set in like, early 19th century london, she and the doctor are talking to a racist rich white dude who is being super nasty to Bill. the doctor keeps telling her to cool it and not show how angry she is. then HE gets to punch the guy out and knock him to the floor.

this theme of the white man being the only one allowed to get angry was big all season, iirc. then at the end of the season, Bill is turned into a cyberman. they’re usually like. soulless scary automatons, but some characters keep their individuality, which has been explored in a few past seasons, usually leading up to a tragic/heroic death. in Bill’s case, they did this trick with filming where we could see her perspective of herself in some shots–an intensely emotional performance, Bill was completely traumatized and her actress was working her ass off–and in others, just this metal body incapable of expression, scaring people like she was a monster and monotoning these otherwise very emotional statements. it’s an interesting narrative device, but after a whole season of this show putting Bill through all kinds of terrible shit and forcing her not to show her feelings on the matter, it hit me as like. this nauseating exaggeration of how society treats actual black lesbians as monsters and tries to make them bottle up their emotions and especially their justifiable anger. anyway, then Bill died and got to be with her dead girlfriend from her first episode. wow, cool.

idk what made me watch the season after that. i guess i wanted to see the new doctor, and i liked her companions (one was like. a young man with disabling neurological symptoms, tbh even if i’d missed Bill’s season that might have had me back on board). i had plenty of problems with how the season played out, obvs, but nothing was standout horrible to me the way the shit with Bill had been (except maybe the episode that started out like ‘space amazon is a hellhole’ and somehow ended with ‘space amazon was taken advantage of by a broken AI that hurt some people and they didnt fix the infrastructure we explicitly showed harmed their workers but now it’s fine!’ if that sounds weird and heavy handed with an unsatisfying ending, it’s because it was). the new season tho? the OPENING EPISODES OF THE NEW SEASON, THO? it opens with alexa product placement, in an episode about how a fictionalized google was actually run by a black man who had ties to a large number of aliens who had secretly infiltrated our society, altered our dna, and shit like that. so uh, 1. brand war lmao, sellouts etc etc 2. y’all remember those conspiracy theories about jews? and white supremacist beliefs that black people are ruining the world but aren’t smart enough to do it on their own so they must be agents of jewish corruption? HUH. HUH! that’s not even my big problem with the fuckin thing, but it’s FOR SURE a suspicious writing move from a tv show with suuuuch a huge viewership. (and it’s just plain embarrassing for a show with alexa product placement to try to go all scary panopticon tropes specifically @ a google analogue.)

anyway, we run into an old recurring antagonist, the master, a time lord like the doctor. he’s a guy again after having been a woman for a few seasons, and now played by an actor of color. i figure the reasoning at least partly relied on “dude, how fucked up will it be if we force the doctor’s black friend to call a white dude master” but i was immediately afraid it might go to the like…. Righteous White Woman Gets The Better Of Evil Brown Man tropes and oh boy!!!! i tried to be good and give it the benefit of the doubt until i saw something racist but it wasted no time. the doctor got stuck in the past at one point, and met the master, who was currently a military official with the third reich. oh boy. so she asks him why they let him work with them and he explains he’s using a device to psychically disguise himself, they see him as white. (we missed a great chance for him to monologue about how they were willing to bend their morals when they saw how evil he could get or something.) this was awkward enough for me as a viewer, but i wasn’t prepared to go into it, in case there was some tiny shred of nuance somewhere that would make this situation anything but a clusterfuck.

well, the doctor executes a genuinely clever scheme and makes a radio transmission to the brits that she knows won’t reach em, talking about how helpful this officer has been–setting up the master to be falsely outed as a double agent when the nazis intercept it. she tells the master this and then skedaddles, letting him be arrested by his own men. could be a satisfying karmic victory where he presumably gets a military trial and weasels out of his fate, although i don’t like the implications of a white woman punishing a brown man for racism. BUT IT DIDN’T STOP THERE! she disables his psychic filter, causing his men to see his true identity as a man of color–she exposes her oldest frenemy and Basically The Only Time Lord Who’ll Talk To Her to nazi racism when he was ALREADY about to fall into their hands as a prisoner. what could have been a marginally satisfying defeat was instead a kind of emotional horrorshow for me as i had to stop and wonder what kind of hell they’d put him through and why the writers decided that the doctor (who has literally since the show began in like the sixties been set up as an enemy of naziism via allegory and has always been firm in the idea that NOBODY, including literal maneating space monsters, deserves to be treated as less than human) would DO that. IT’S LATER IMPLIED HE ESCAPED FROM A CONCENTRATION CAMP. the narrative DOES NOT allow time for that to sink in before moving on.

i dont have a conclusion 2 this. im just hurt as fuck about it. i hope i gave u the info u were looking for without getting too deep into my personal feelings, but it’s difficult, maybe impossible to be objective about stuff like this.

[vodka-aunt-coran]

nah, no need to change my tag, friendo! I'm still fine with being the shalluratt anon. still, back on the topic of klunk: I saw you reblog that post about how hunk hasn't touched lance since the whole mind control debacle. so! mix up this hangst with the fact that hunk and keith have been have been getting closer along with a heaping helping of the 'mutual-crush-but-RIVAL' trainwreck that s2 Klance, and you got any klunk hcs for us? making us cry/giving us a happy ending both optional of course

(fun fact: i’ve finally realized that the “indent left” button for my docs app is the “go back” option for google chrome…so…just deleted a bunch of stuff and have to start over :’D also, this got longer than i expected sorry y’all)

oooh good catch on the hangst!! let me try my best….

bc hunk doesn’t feel comfortable touching lance, he takes it out on the rest of his teammates. it’s like the scene from yuri on ice where yuuri just runs around hugging everyone.

lance tries to tell him it’s fine, but realizes that it’s an issue hunk has to work through and reluctantly backs off

shiro, allura, and coran are confused but try their best to be comforting

pidge is mostly for it but has her limits

and then keith…keith heckign LOVES it. like he won’t really admit it out loud but sometimes he’ll seek out hunk and just sprawl across him like “sup dude”

which, you know. kinda bugs lance.

and at one point lance and hunk are hanging out, chilling, as bros do, and keith comes in and casually falls against hunk. and lance just. leaves.

hunk is really concerned and goes after him while keith is like “seriously”

bc to lance it’s like! he wants to be closer to keith and he misses being that close with hunk and it’s hitting all the wrong nerves to see them being close with each other!

lance tells hunk it’s nbd, but hunk can tell that it is, in fact, a bd and reassures lance that he’s still his best bro

lance smiles but doesn’t quite believe it

hm okay i know the next thing i want to do but i don’t know how to get there so consider this a segue point that hopefully i will remove before actually posting this

the issue with the three of them is that they are A Mess. because lance and hunk have had crushes before. but these crushes are like Instant Crushes? so the two of them don’t realize that their “haha bro you look gorgeous today lmao i’d totally marry you bro” is like…More Than Bros.

unfortunately, this rubs off on keith

keith: wait, you mean you…aren’t dating lance?hunk: ahaha no, but we basically are? but really we’re just close friends!keith: close friends do things that couples do?hunk: yeah totally!keith: oh cool i feel that way about you! :)hunk: aww same dude! :D

none of them catch the fact that they don’t feel that exact way about pidge

they are. A Mess.

the only pair that can tell it’s Obviously A Crush is klance, bc they didn’t have the friends phase. but they like!! won’t do anything about it!! bc CLEARLY the other one doesn’t feel the same way!! fortunately, hunk.

hunk is rly disheartened by the fact that the two of them don’t get along, so he more or less forces them into hanging out together lol

hunk: [practically carrying keith into lance’s room] let’s hang out here today!lance: hunk NOhunk, determined: hunk yes

it doesn’t rly work until keith (finally) notices that oh hey it’s weird that hunk doesn’t touch lance anymore

keith brings it up with hunk bc he’s like 80% sure that’s something lance would be bitter over and they end up talking about it

hunk discovers that keith?? gives surprisingly good advice??

i’m not a great writer, but the gist is that keith helps hunk remember that he’s in control of himself and promises that if hunk starts hurting anyone, keith will personally knock him out (he’s weird, but efficient, at being comforting)

so hunk starts being physically affectionate with lance again, and lance almost weeps with joy, and keith is like…unsure if he’s still allowed to…until hunk pulls him in like with The Hug from s1

after that, klance get along better bc lance doesn’t have a reason to be jealous and both realize that?? the other is really cool and nice with hunk?? and that causes them to start being cool and nice to each other

keith: oh man now i’m close friends with lance too! awesome!

help these boys

and honestly how i feel about klunk is that…they don’t actually start dating? it just slowly progresses until one day lance gives hunk a kiss like “bye babe” and it’s not weird until keith is like…can i do that too? and does. and hunk finally realizes Wait This Is Not A Bro Thing.

This Has Never Been A Bro Thing Oh My God What Have I Done

hunk brings it up with each of them like “hey…are we…dating?”

[imagine this part in a montage that switches between two scenes with every bullet point]

lance: what? no, of course not, we’re just really close bros who cuddle and sometimes kiss and want to spend the rest of our lives together wait.

keith: what’s the difference between being close friends and dating?hunk: i don’t know but i think we crossed that line a long time ago

lance: hold on, does that mean i’m sharing you with keith??hunk: i don’t know?? what do i even do in this situation??

keith: wait so does that mean i’m also dating lance?hunk: well, i…holy shit does it?keith: i don’t know a fucking thing my guy

hunk: hey lance…what if you…also dated keith?lance: WHAT THAT’S RIDICULOUShunk: why?lance: because!! !!! yeah!!hunk: bro,

hunk: would you like…want to date lance?keith: yes. i-i mean. maybe. it’s whatever, honestly.

hunk: ok lance what if keith wanted to date you too?lance: i mean, that’d never happen in like a billion years, like that’s super rid–hunk: BRO,lance: ok yes fine!! i’d totally date him!! but don’t tell him that. unless he wants to date me too.

basically hunk sets his boyfriends up with each other

honestly there’s not much different after they start formally, consciously dating? like allura and coran assumed they had been dating already. but they kiss more and are somehow even more disgustingly affectionate with pet names

lance: see you later sweetheart!hunk: love you honey!keith: bye, uh…sugar?lance: …we’ll work on it

and they all live happily ever after on a ranch the end