#this fic was hell to write it legit took me like a MONTH so everyone say thank you mars onlymingyus for not letting me give up on it <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[pebblysand]

of breakable clay [extended author's notes on chapter viii of castles]

oh my god. it’s out. jesus christ.

okay first off, before i dive into anything, i know i’ve already done this in the actual a/n but i would like to wholeheartedly thank @whiffingbooks over on discord for helping me with figuring out the structure of things fic. although i have to admit i did not, at all, do what i told you i would do, talking it out was massively helpful in figuring this one out, so thanks a million. secondly, i would like send all of my most sincere and affectionate thanks to @whizzfizz on here, who mother-of-god basically designed this entire chapter and listened to me rant, and rant, and rant about it for days on end without complaining. i’ll go into a bit more depth later on, but THANK YOU.

now, a few facts on this chapter before i dive further in:

wordcount: 19168. i legit would apologise for this but i promised i wouldn’t so i’m not going to. that’s growing up people. don’t apologise for yourselves haha.

soundtrack: so i’ve never mentioned this but each chapter kind of has a soundtrack? like a song that i listened to on loop while writing this. here, i would basically point you to the entire spotify of a band called barns courtney (there’s one album and a few eps), i basically listened to all of their songs on loop this past month. i feel like they have such a strong gryffindor energy, in the good, the bad and the ugly. this chapter is definitely sort of an ode to gryffindors so their music was a very big inspo. if i had to point you to one song, it would probably be dopamine.

favourite line: ‘I dig my fingernails into the inside of my palms and it feels like the blood that comes out is already boiling.’

what is this chapter about? now, that’s an easy one. survival.

okay, now, spoilers under the cut.

ugh. holy fucking shit. i’m actually at a stage right now where i strongly believe that no one on earth will want to read this because everyone probably hates me right now for the choices that i made, especially after i made you wait almost three months for this shit. i always feel like whatever i’ve put out was the hardest chapter to write so far but this one was really out there in terms of struggles - i’m really sorry it took so long, but here we are.

there are reasons, though. first, as i said in my may round up, i didn’t really start writing this until about a month ago, because a lot of things were happening in my life that i needed to take care of. i took exams (which i passed!!!!), my mum had a health emergency, ireland added france to their mandatory quarantine list (it has been removed as of yesterday thank. fucking. christ) and i started a new job. it was a lot.

anyway, this being said, when i did get to writing this chapter, as mentioned above in the thank-you section, i kind of first struggled with the structure of it. now, you will see this is a recurring theme this time around but for this, my instincts were telling me one thing, and my brain was saying something else.

basically, what came first here wasn’t the actual content of ginny’s letters (more on that, obviously, in a minute) but the ‘mood’ i wanted for the chapter. i wanted to recreate, both for harry and for the reader, this sort of idea of being completely immersed in a book or a story. like, you know the kind of mood where reality just kind of blends out, where you start reading something and just. cannot. stop. i don’t think he’s much a reader (at least not canonically) and so i wanted this to take him by surprise, for her to take over his life with her words. i explained in the previous a/n [link] i chose to have ginny’s war be told through letters (basically, i thought it would be the best way to narratively tell her story), and i really wanted harry to experience what she’d lived through almost first hand.

now, interestingly, my idea for how to do this originally was to have the letters sort of be interwoven into the events of 1999, throughout the next couple of chapters (meaning this one and chapter nine). i had this idea in my head of him living through ‘real life’ things but not being able to take his mind off her letters, with the letters also sort of echoing the events that were happening in 99, etc. having the two plot lines develop at once and meet in the middle, kind of.

and i tried to write that. for a long time. spoiler alert, it didn’t work. i think the reason is that every time i sat down with it, i felt like i was doing a disservice to both stories. i mean: 97/98 is important, but 99 also is, you know? and by taking the narrative in and out all the time, it was like you couldn’t concentrate on one thing. it was just very messy and didn’t have the intensity i was originally aiming for because it kept being dragged out of whatever was the main action at the time. i wanted harry to get sucked into the narrative, for her letters to take over his life, but in the end, the impression i just got was that the whole thing was confusing af. instead of deeply caring about both, i couldn’t bring myself to care either for ginny’s story, or for his.

also, i just kept hitting a wall: a wall called harry. basically, i knew that the next two chapters (i.e. eight and nine) would stretch from january 99 to june 99. and for the love of god, no matter how many times i turned it around in my head, there was - to me - no way that harry as we know him would just pace himself to read her letters throughout all those months. like, harry fucking potter isn’t the kind of guy who ‘paces’ himself. he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t sleep for a week to get through it all, you know? this is everything that he’s wanted to know since last may, he’s been desperately looking for answers up to this point, there is absolutely not way in hell that he’d wait it out nicely until june. it felt ooc to have him read the letters over a few months. and i just kept hitting that wall over and over. i considered, at one point, building him reading the letters into flashbacks but flashbacks of flashbacks were, again, quite messy, and i don’t think her letters would ever be something he’d volunteer to re-read, so. clearly, it wasn’t working.

then, i think on a random sunday a few weeks ago, i just went back to the drawing board and was like: okay, say we just write all of the letters and go from there, what would happen? by the end of the day, i’d written 12,000 words and that was that, really.

now, the second difficulty, once i’d decided that was…. what you all probably want me to talk about.

i know this is probably not what you want to hear but: i didn’t really plan this? like, i understand that a lot of people have sort of a headcanon about what happened to ginny in that year in hogwarts but i … don’t. like, as planned as this fic is (which it is, i know where i’m going, i promise) that was always a bit of a blank-space-tbd in my head. i think that this story, as hinny as it is, is mostly about harry. and while i knew what i wanted for harry from her telling her story (for him to get sucked in, for him to realise that his war wasn’t the only war in the world ‘cause he’s been bloody self-centered so far, for him to realise that his plan to protect her didn’t exactly work because it didn’t cater for who she is, etc.), i wasn’t really sure what that story was. i mean, i knew it was going to be bad and traumatic, obviously, but i didn’t know what would happen. and still, to me, what i wrote is a version of that year. it’s not really my headcanon (i still don’t really have one), and i definitely accept other versions, if that makes sense.

this being said, i obviously had thought about it a little. i remember writing chapter one with that line: ‘They have sex for the first time, that day – his first time and it feels like hers, too, but he wouldn’t dare ask, not anymore, anyways’ and thinking i wanted to leave the door open. to me, it was a door completely open: it could have indeed been her first time, or she could have seen someone else (consensually) during that year, or she could have been assaulted. i honestly didn’t know but yeah, that was always a possibility in the back of my head.

then, to tell you the truth, when i wrote the first version of this chapter (the 12,000 words i mentioned earlier), it wasn’t there. i sat down and decided that i wasn’t going to go there. firstly, because, while you probably don’t know this, i’ve written about sexual assault before. my previous long fic, children, in another fandom, dealt (in part) with that. and i didn’t want to be the-fic-writer-who-writes-about-sexual-assault. especially because trust me, there are people who are a lot more legitimate to talk about this than i am. i also didn’t feel like it was necessary to the story, i could do without it and still explain ginny’s early behaviour in the fic, explain her trauma, and have harry realise the things i talked about before. secondly, i’ll be honest: i know this isn’t what people in this fandom want to read. the hinny pairing is mostly about love and fluff (which i love, btw, don’t get me wrong) and i was like, ugh, i don’t want to face the angry comments. i’m writing this a/n the morning before posting so i admittedly don’t know what the reaction will be but i do anticipate a lot of annoyance with me. i knew that a lot of people wouldn’t like it if i went there, and it was just easier not to.

but then, as i started editing, there was a comment (and this, ladies and gentlemen, is a testament to how much your comments fucking matter, okay?). a comment that i remembered reading on the previous chapter and could not get out of my head, no matter how much i tried. well, hello, @whizzfizz. i’ll happily give credit where credit is due. it read:

This made me think of something you mentioned earlier in the fic (possibly Ch1) about Harry not being sure if he was Ginny’s first but that it felt like it. I wonder if this is something that is going to come up in her letters to him.

and, so, it turned. around and around in my head, and i couldn’t get it out. and i kept saying to myself: no, you’re not going there. no, you’re not going there. and then, one night, i caved. i was like, fuck, i need to know if this person really meant what i think they meant by this. and so we talked. a lot. and, i did a lot of thinking. about women. about wars. about violence against women as a an inevitable weapon of war. about ginny being harry’s girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend (more on that later), and what that would have meant in their world. and @whizzfizz, you said something that in the end really sold me. you said: ‘at this point, i don’t think it would be realistic for it not to have happened.’ and, that was that, really.

because i was right, initially. amycus/ginny (ugh, the idea of a pairing makes me throw up in my mouth a little but yeah, there it is) isn’t necessary to the story. but i believe it to be necessary to what this story is trying to show. the plot held well without it, no questions asked. 12,000 words of the da and their battles, of ginny’s rebellions. it was fine. but i think i wanted more than fine. to me (and i appreciate how fucking pretentious that is, please slap me in the face *eyeroll*), castles is more than its plot. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: this is about what is behind ‘all was well.’ it’s about trying to paint a realistic picture of their lives. and that includes the war. and realistically, as far as i’m concerned, knowing how humans fight their wars, knowing our history and the history of violence against women construed as a weapon in literally every conflict there ever was, there is no way that this didn’t happen. ginny says it herself: for us girls, it’s just the way wars are fought.

so, i did go there. and the whole fandom probably hates me for going there, but i sort of stand by it, i have to say. to be honest, on a sort of subconscious level, i kind of wonder: didn’t i always know i was going to go there? like, this fits perfectly into the plot to the point that i think it was probably in my head for much longer than i care to admit. now, i’m so, fucking excited to write next chapter because i finally get to write happy things, and hinny getting back together on rock solid foundations of openness and sharing, and trust, and i’m so, so glad. there are a couple of scenes in the next chapter that i’ve been working towards for months and i’m so, bloody excited to write them. everyone might hate me and i might just be writing this fic for myself now (lol), but again, i stand by the decisions i took. to me, it fits.

phew. okay, now that huge thing is out of the way and explained, here are a few more jumbled thoughts:

the more i think about it, the more i think that my reason for not wanting to be the-fic-writer-who-writes-about-sexual-assault is a bit ridic. children and castles, in that way, are so, so different. like, i appreciate the overlap between the silk fandom and the hp fandom is probably ridiculously small but if you’ve read both stories, they’re obviously very different. one thing that both stories centre on, though, is consent. and to me, that’s probably the most interesting element of ginny/amycus, and the most interesting element of writing characters within a restrictive pov, rather than an omniscient one. like, do i think ginny/amycus is rape? yes. 100%. do i think that ginny thinks it’s rape? that is a much more interesting question. she says it a number of times but i think to her, this is all about control. i think that because of what happened to her with tom, she’s someone who is terrified of losing control of her mind and of her own agency. so as not to lose that, she’s willing to do whatever it takes. it is a ‘you can control my body, but not my thoughts,’ sort of narrative. and, she never says it outright because i think psychologically she’s just not there yet, but tom is everywhere in these letters. and as her world just spirals out, she hangs onto the very few things that she can control: her relationship to harry, and her willingness to do what it takes for them to survive. she initiates the ‘relationship’ with amycus in an attempt to control her fate. later, as she explains to harry she feels a lot of guilt over what she did, and like a lot of sexual assault survivors, she thinks it was her responsibility. because i’m in harry’s head most of the time for this fic, i’m not sure i’ll ever really get to discuss that at length, but it’s definitely something that i wanted to show. another interesting question is: does harry think it’s rape? i think at that point in the fic, he doesn’t have the education, nor the vocabulary for that. i think instinctively (because he is someone who is very instinctive), he doesn’t blame her. if he blames anyone, it’s probably himself. he understands the necessity to do what you have to do to survive and thinks that no, no matter what she claims, that was not consented. that’s kind of what comes out in his annoyingly inarticulate letter to her at the end. beyond that, though, i think he’s a bit lost, just like she is.

on a mildly related note, there is something that i've been seeing a lot in the comments and that i feel like i should maybe address? namely: harry's reaction to ginny dating other people. i assume similar comments will be made about his reaction to ginny/alecto (meaning that he still decides to write to her, at the end of the chapter). i've seen a lot of people observe that he's much more 'chill' about it in castles than in canon. fair point but is he, though? like, he isn't happy about it in castles. and he's jealous as well. but he was never entitled in canon. he was jealous, yes, the chest monster and all that, but he never really did anything about it, and never really impeded on her right to see other people. now, this being said, i agree that in sixth year he might have thrown a tantrum, had she done what she did in castles, but that was sixth year. it was before the war. before he lost half a dozen people. before he had to adult bloody fucking quickly. this being said, i do think castles-Harry is more 'subdued,' i suppose, than canon harry. this is a choice i made early on, which to me is related to the fact that he kind of lost his 'voice' during the war. i mean, it took him six months of people talking shit behind his back to do a press interview to defend himself. i think with ginny, it's a lot of the same. he's a boy who blames himself a lot, and generally doesn't particularly think he deserves the people in his life. to me it's an evolution of his character within the the world of castles. i'm happy to agree to disagree on it, but to me it makes sense within the character evolution and the way the fic's gone, so to speak. now, obviously, he'll grow out of that in due course, but we're not quite there yet.

regarding their relationship, now, i have to say: one headcanon that i did have for this was her not outright telling everyone they’d broken up. i’m sorry, that plan was shit. i just don’t buy for a second that she would willingly have gone ahead with it, and i don’t buy for a second that tom wouldn’t have used her had he known they’d been together, ex girlfriend or not. plus, i think she needed something to hand onto, and that was her relationship with him. her letters. the belief that they would be together again. without it, i don’t think she’d have survived. and i think that summer after the war, they were totally on the same page, for different reasons. both of them kind of saw their relationship as the one thing that kept them afloat, the one good thing they had, partly also because they’d idealised it for so long. she says it as some point, it wasn’t a relationship, it was a lifeline (another sentence i came up with as a response to a comment, lol) and while that is toxic and was meant to crumble at some point, it was necessary for them, both during the war, and in the early days after it. i think her last letter to him is painstakingly correct on that one.

regarding canon, i know i’m bending a couple of things here, which i just wanted to quickly acknowledge: 1) i know jkr has said it’s teddy remus lupin. i just can’t believe, for a moment, that someone who hated himself as much as lupin did, canonically, would name his son after himself. naming his son after his best mate who died to young to become problematic though? i totally see it. so yeah, creative licence, it’s teddy james lupin in this house, lol. 2) when they meet neville in dh, he kind of hints that they’ve only just started to use the room of requirement a couple weeks ago. the text however, only says they’ve only been staying in it full time a couple of weeks ago. i needed them to have somewhere where to meet with the da and stuff, so i bent that a bit. it’s not strictly canon, but it’s also not not canon, if that makes sense.

on seamus blowing things up and talking about eight hundred years of oppression? full disclaimer, while i am french, i have been living in ireland for long enough to become eligible for citizenship in less than six months (yay!). i know some people have said that seamus is a bit of a cliche in the books/films and all (the only irish character keen on blowing things up, haha *eyeroll*), but i actually kind of love it? like, the whole thing about the cranberries and zombie at the start of the fic has been in my head for much longer than i care to admit. i love the idea that there’s this whole muggle war going on at the exact same time that no one ever talks about and actually, i find the idea of wizarding ireland v. muggle ireland and the whole political structure fascinating. like, is wizarding ireland an independent state? what’s the story there? i have a whole seamus fic in my head, partially on this topic, that i might or might not write one day.

lastly, i know this may sound a bit weird but i need to say it: once i’d figured out what and how i was writing it, i bloody loved writing this chapter. first stylistically, i really wanted to mimic the style of how i’d written the magazine article in chapter 5 (i.e. not writing out the whole thing but writing out in text the excerpts that harry focused on) and i love how that turned out. i think it was a good way to balance her words and his, kind of merging them into one, big narrative. second, as a writer, it was so fucking interesting to write someone who knows how to write, which believe it or not i’d never done before. additionally, i loved the challenge of editing this because it was like: i’ve got to edit this, but not too much? i was very careful about modifying and polishing too much of ginny’s speech in the letters because i obviously wanted it to sound like someone who was just writing as the words came to her, without polishing the words, the punctuation, etc. like i usually would. i wanted her to have quirks (she says ‘you know?’ a lot) and i played with her capitalisation and punctuation a bit too. i know these aren’t necessarily noticeable details but it was definitely something that i thought about and that was very fun and interesting to write, as a format.

wow, okay. this was LONG but i think i have everything i wanted to say. if you’ve read all of this (whyyyyy?), thanks so much for sticking around. if you’ve got any questions, anything i didn’t address, do let me know, anon or not, my ask box is open. now, i would love to say i’m going to chill or something, but the truth is that i have to a) actually do a last read through of the fic, lol and b) put it out. this is what i get for writing the a/n before finishing the damn thing, i guess. i’ll rest tomorrow, lol.

lastly, in terms of next chapter, realistically, i’d say eight to ten weeks. i have a full time job now and also, writing this was fucking exhausting and i need to take time out for a bit before coming back to it with a fresh mind. i will be writing other stuff though, i promise. i have a couple of prompts to get to (thanks!!!) and a couple of other ideas so i will probably be posting in the meantime, just not castles.

lots of love,

p.

[dystopian-penguin]

Is this a real life story? Is this a fic concept? Who knows 🤷

But here’s a very long account of... something.

This isn't a gay disaster story. It's a gay sad ending story. It's a gay "self-homophobia is very real and realistic” story, and not in the "gay panic is kinda cute" way.

It all started 14 years ago (yes that long), when I was still deeply in the HP fandom and even more deep into reading James/Lilly fics in ff.net all day long. For the first time in my entire life I decided to sort by “all works” and not just “completed”. I know it might sound super silly, and even a bit cliche considering this is tumblr and we live and breath fics, but that single decision literally changed the course of my life. And unlike what I usually do, I am not exaggerating. I found this one fic that must have had, like, 20 chapters and almost 100k words and dived into it without looking for rocks in the bottom. Long story short: the last posted chapter ended on a huuuuuge cliffhanger, like the very next moment after the kiss, and it left me completely destroyed.

So I did what I always do, what I am known on tumblr and my small social circle in here to do: I went to scream at the author.

But I wasn’t content to just scream in the comment section, oh no. For all I knew the bitch wouldn’t even see it, the last update had been from like 8 months previously. So I stalked her ff.net profile and found her MSN email. Yes, the story is THAT old.

My literal first words to her must have been something akin to “OH MY GOD I HATE YOU SO MUCH”, which yay for the beautiful poetic irony that the universe crafts at times. She took it in stride because, let’s face it, a shitton of people had already greeted her like that by then. And we started talking, and it was easy and fun. We had a lot in common, more or less the same type of interests, the usual you’d expect if I had met her on tumblr even. We must have talked like 3 hours straight on that first day, and I left feeling pretty good cause I had made a new friend. Not only that, but right off the bat I admired her so much. Not only because she was talented as fuck (imagine writing a 100k unfinished fic at only 15 y/o), but also because the more I talked to her the more I could see just how fucking cultured she was and how intelligent and ect. She came from a wealthy family and such a different reality from me. She had been abroad, in fact she usually travelled abroad with her family like twice a year, she was fluent in english even then (at that point I was I intermediate at best), not to mention german because her family was german. She was 15 (a year older than me back then) and trilingual and could write wonderfully and I was fascinated by her instantly.

Something else worth of note was that her profile pic on the day we met had been set to a close-up of a blue eye. I must have asked on that very same day whose eye was that because damn if it hasn’t been the prettiest blue I’ve ever seen. I mean, I hadn’t told her that, but I was curious enough to ask. And as everyone and their grandmother might have guessed by now, it was hers.

Somehow (and I truly don’t know HOW), we got into the habit of talking every day, or at least very close to it. I got to know about her daily life, just one state south from where I live and sooooo much colder than what I had ever experienced. She went to a swiss school, fully bilingual, was the first in her year in the IB program which for the love of crap I didn’t even know it existed back then. Might not ever have known if I never met her. Eventually we exchanged phone numbers, and back then SMS messages were like 1,50 bucks for inter-state ones. Our mothers were not happy.

Around a year and a half went by this way. She became my best friend, my rock. We both had a shitton of problems in your high school lives and in our family lives, and we were so relieved to know there was someone out there we could share those with. In the meantime she ended up breaking up with her boyfriend, ironically just a few months before I had my very first kiss. When she broke up with her boyfriend she was absolutely devastated (they had been together almost a year or so), and relied on me a lot back then. Which I was more than happy to support because for the first time in my life I felt like I belonged somewhere. I felt like I was actually part of someone’s life. I didn’t feel like I ever bothered her, like I was ever intruding in her life. I felt like I was truly part of her world, like she actually remembered my existence when I was not around, and at now-16 years of age that had literally been the first time I had felt that. I never had a true friend before her. Not sure I ever did after her either.

On easter 2008 we finally convinced our moms to let us meet. Her family had a whole goddamn country house with a huge plot of land, so it was decided I was gonna visit her first. So I got semi-sedated and got into my first plane ride EVER, and for those of you that are reading this and know me (although I doubt anyone is reading at all), you know how terrified of planes I am. You know how BIG of a gesture it is for me to get into a fucking plane for the first time in my life for a person.

I already knew she was pretty. I mean, we had talked on the webcam a couple of times before (just a few times because the internet back then was really terrible). The blue eyes I mentioned, and the most fucking beautiful silky blonde hair you’ve ever seen. But when I saw her the first time on that airport it still took my breath away. Even more, what truly surprised me, was the huge smile she gave as soon as she saw me out of the gate and she rushed to hug me. I was paralyzed. I mean yes I was happy and hugged her back, which was a huge deal because back then I was not touchy feely at all (and she was VERY). But I was paralyzed. Because I had never in my entire 16 years of age seen anyone smile that big or that brightly at seeing me. Hell, I suppose I had never seen anyone smile that brightly at all. As the day progressed she was so legit happy that I was there, and I could never fully wrap my head around it. We drove to her house and her mom took the long way just so they could show me all the interesting spots in her city, and she shared tidbits of her daily life that I still didn’t know, despite us being so close, because those are the things you only learn by actually being next to the person irl. Later on she introduced me to her two best friends in school, and we all decided to watch a horror movie.

Yes, it’s THAT cliche.

Now, you see, I’m absolutely fucking impervious to horror movies. Yes I get jumpscared just as much as anyone else, but I don’t get scared. So I was sitting there a bit lowkey bored, narrating the entire plot of the movie and what would happen a few scenes before it did because the movie was just that easy to guess. And she had taken complete ownership of my left arm the entire time, being half super scared and half impressed I could guess every single thing on the plot. Later on she apologized for not letting go of my arm because she knew I wasn’t as touchy feely as she was, and I was once again taken aback because I come from a ridiculously touchy-feely country and NO ONE ever apologizes for it or respects my boundaries on it.

The next day we wake up bright and early to go to her ranch-thingy. She slept on top of me on the car almost all the way there. I must have woken up like a whole hour before her but didn’t move at all.

I’m a city slick. I’m a huge city slick, through and through. Which means I am both fascinated and absolutely terrified on any plot of grass bigger than a garden. And her country house was fucking amazing. I had only experienced the true freedom of being in nature a few times in my life, and she made sure to show me every nook and crane of the forest surrounding it. Because yes it was a forest and not a jungle like where I lived, and that made it all the more magical.

But the truly one magical thing in the entire 4-days weekend was the stars. You see, I am absolutely in love with the stars. It’s stupid to say something like this when I was retelling the greatest love story of my life, but the stars are my one true love. I got my first telescope when I was five years old. My mother cannot for the life of her explain where I got this obsession from. She always said I was already born that way. So I find myself for the first time in my life with the least amount of light pollution I’ve ever been subject to in my entire life (even nowadays). For the first time in my life I has actually been able to see the Milky Way with my own two eyes. And what made everything even more impressive was that it was a full moon, and the night sky still looked as incredible as it’s supposed to look. Honestly it might have been a great contender to the beauty of her blue eyes.

The moment I remember the most is us laying down on some beach towels (no idea why they had those in the countryside), stargazing for hours at end. By then we were two full states to the south of mine, so I believe the technical definition of what I was feeling is fucking freezing my inexistent balls off. I had gotten dressed in just some jeans and a tshirt way before the sun set, and I was dammed if I was gonna interrupt our stargazing to go put on some decent clothes. I remember her asking a few times if I was cold, and I also remember myself lying through my teeth saying I had gotten used to it by then. Blatant lies, my nipples could cut through fucking glass at the moment. But I wasn’t gonna interrupt it because it was just the two of us on a grassy clearing, her family was at least 200m away and we couldn't even hear them anymore and it was just us and the stars and her hands were so close to mine that I could feel the heat (the only source of it for my beach-town ass I suppose). It was the perfect fucking moment. The moment most people dream of having their entire lives. I have no idea how long we stayed there, but it was a few hours for sure. Her mom had to call us back inside, and nothing broke my heart more. We talked about anything and everything. I told her what I knew of astronomy and I could see for the first time I was fascinating her with knowledge. Because I had always felt and will always feel like a peasant in the presence of a princess when it comes to her. With how cultured and educated and just fucking smart she always had been. But as I told her of the constellations (sometimes grabbing her hand to point to the stars and make her spot them better), and proclaimed my love for the night sky, she listened. She listened and I had never felt heard before in my life. She listened and I felt I had managed to make her fall in love with the stars a little bit by just talking about them.

She listened and I felt I had managed to make myself fall in love in her a little bit by just seeing the way she looked at me as I talked.

All good things come to an end and time had come for me to go back home. I will never forget how she hugged me goodbye on that same airport. Where I had seen the brightest smile on my life and now I could see she was holding back tears for me. Because I was leaving. I was important enough in someone’s life that they were about to cry because I wasn’t going to be around anymore. She way she whispered “I’m gonna miss you so much” on my ear, on such a low note I am sure it was just so her mother wouldn’t hear her, and her voice will haunt me for the rest of my life. She told me a few days later that she did cry on her way to school that morning.

After this it was near impossible to not be with her at all times. We texted constantly, and used to talk like 2 whole hours on the phone before bed. Once again I must remind you this was 2008 so it was no cheap business. Her mother started to try to separate us a bit, insisting she didn’t contact me as much, even tho I was sure the one who could not afford those phone bills, not her. It all culminated on what was ironically (or perhaps planned by her mother?) brazilian Valentine’s day (we are the only country in the world that celebrates in on St. Anthony’s day, which is June 12th). It was the first day in almost two years we didn’t talk at all, because of how much her mother had nagged her about it. The next day we talked as if we had been separated by a war for a decade.

I’m gonna take a break here to let everyone know that no, I did not think I was in love with her back then. I don’t think she knew either, but it’s hard to tell.

Her mother planned her entire july winter break to the minute just so she could spend the least amount of time in my house as possible. We got 5 days instead of the previous 4. But her mother came up with a ridiculous amount of trips for the family. She visit 3 different countries (and a whole different state inside her own country) within 30 fucking days. That’s how bad it had gotten then. Our SMSs had to be cut down to just two or three a day because of it.

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because when she arrived at my house (her family had insisted in meeting mine before letting her stay) I was able to see from three floors up how brightly she had smiled at seeing me again.

I’ll make this part short: we stayed cooped inside blankets the entire time, playing on my PS2. It was so ridiculous that my mom, maaaany years later, told me she usually left the house for hours at time just to give us an opportunity of finally doing something about our very obvious feelings. Unlike the trip we took to her ranch, this one was filled with 3am deep existencial talks. And unlike the other trip, we spent the whole time sleeping on the same bed. Not a whole lot happened other than us dancing around the obvious feelings and how to deal with being so close to each other.

Nothing beside the very last morning together. I remember always waking up after her, because that’s just how we were. I remember she was already up, reading this book in fucking german of all things. It had been the first day of the entire week we had a meager ray of sunshine. And the way my window and ourselves were positioned, the sun was shinning directly on her. I woke up to the vision of an angel. I had never seen hair in such a warm bright color. I had never seen eyes that were the living embodiment of a spring afternoon sky. I woke up and her propped up on a couple of pillows, reading under the weak morning sun was the first thing I saw. It was the first thing I saw and I could swear I was still dreaming.

Because for the first time in all this, I could not contain and muffle the voice inside my head that was screaming: I want to wake up next to this every single day for the rest of my life.

It was the last time I woke up next to her for the rest of my life.

To my credit I did shake off my daze from the sight quite fast. I had gotten so good to drowning out these feelings that I was great at putting my poker face back up. We talked, we had breakfast, we let ourselves feel a bit sad about her leaving.

Then, just about half an hour before we actually had to go shower to take her to the station, it happened. The one moment that made me feel confident this all wasn’t just in my head. It all wasn’t just wishful thinking of a lonely pathetic girl who got way too bullied in high school.

We were having an impromptu pillow fight cause why not. That’s how girls who are secretly in love handle their feelings after all. It’s universal I think. And, well, on the overall 9 days we spent together irl I never actually beat her once because I’m just that much of a noddle. But this one fight we were both in bed, with weak footing and etc. You can see where this is going.

So on a scene to rival any anime, or that one gif of girls playing handball that fall on top of each other, she fell on top of me. Well, did she fall? I don’t know. For all I know, she planned.

And we had the moment. The gaze. Those few indescribable seconds of your life that you’re always gonna remember like yesterday, no matter how old you get. She had each of my hands pinned to the side of my head, and at first I thought we were still fighting so I just struggled and laughed and was saying stuff like “get off me ya psycho!”. But then I looked up. I looked up and.

And then I felt it. I felt everything her eyes were telling me. She wasn’t playing with me anymore. She was staring at me as if she already knew it was going to be the last time. She was staring at me as if it was a love story because it was. She was staring at me as if her entire existence, as if the whole oxygen on the earth itself depending on my presence.

She was staring at me like I has never been looked at before, or since. Even with a 3-years long relationship I had muuuch later on. No one had never, or will ever, look at me the way she looked at me.

And I froze. I froze because I had no idea what else to do. I froze because inside my head back then this was still wrong. Girls should not kiss. Girls should never kiss.

It was wrong.

It was so wrong, but nothing, not a single piece of bigot ramble ever uttered in history would make me feel more scared than losing my best friend. Nothing in the world scared me more than losing her.

Could I cross this boundary? Did she want to? Or was it just a spur on the moment thing?

But then she stared at my lips and I could not help but lick my own. Out of instinct, out of craving, out of love.

To the risk of getting an angry mob to my house right now, no, we did not kiss.

In fact, I dont quite remember the next few seconds at all. It had been single the most intense moment in my life at this point. It is still one of the most intense moments I’ve ever experienced. I completely blanked out of how I actually got pulled out of it and back into the land of living. Next thing I know we are sitting on opposite sides of the bed, trying to move away from the awkwardness. We did manage, in a couple of minutes. and things went back to normal between us.

But things would never be back to normal within me.

I’m gonna take a pause here to point out I’m bisexual. So like every bisexual, I am a very confused person. Cause you see, the moment you figure out you're bisexual it’s so much more confusing than figuring out you're fully homosexual. Because in the moment, things don’t just click. Things dont just start to magically make sense. I was 16 and I had absolutely liked guys before. Was it with this intensity? No because I was fucking 16. She was the first person I was been truly in love with. But I know it in my soul that if she was a dude I would love her with the exact same intensity. This particular discourse took me another three years to solve, but I digress.

And then she left.

She left and, like I said, her mother had programed her entire july milimetrically so we could be as far apart as possible. She left my house straight back to her ranch, not even her own house, And they have no internet there, so no MSN. Just a single 30-minutes phone call a day, for the 4 days after we had spent the entire week cooped up in bed inside blankets and playing lame-ass RPGs. And then right after that she left for germany for two full weeks. But before that particular trip, she did manage to get home. She got home to a letter of her grandma that read...

Well to be honest I cannot tell you what it read exactly. Because she was extremely vague about it when telling me. But it was enough to destroy her. It was enough to make her think that her grandma would not want anything to do with her anymore and it was based off somewhat new events. It doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure out the full contents of the letter. Her family is from the brazilian Bible Belt. But back then, at 16, confused as fuck, and already preemptively heartbroken, I legit had no idea what it said. She was vague and I didn’t want to pry. I just wanted to make her stop crying. I just wanted to put that beautiful smile back in her face but on that day I could feel her slipping away for the first time.

The rest of the story takes place in just a bit under two months. Maybe 6 weeks at most.

She goes to germany and finds a boyfriend, as one does. She leeches on this boy like a lifeline, but never stops texting me our 3 international texts we were allowed daily. In fact, the first thing she did after kissing him was pulling off her phone as texting me.

You can imagine how well this guy takes it.

Now, she goes back to brasil and this guy actually lives somewhat close to her. It’s a doable relationship. Once they both have access to internet and MSN again, and she is fast to introduce us, so happy that both of the most important people in her life are meeting. Even tho they had been together for like 3 weeks at this point.

I’m ok with it because, well, I still hadn’t figured myself out. I know no one will believe this, but I honestly did not feel jealousy. In fact, it was almost relief. Relief that I would not need to look into my feelings any further than I had back in july. I was happy for her. She seemed genuinely happy with this guy, and so was I.

And then Independence Day weekend comes and hell starts to... well, not break loose, but certainly get weaker on the seams. In here Independence Day is on September 7th, but both on my city and hers there's a city holiday on the 8th. On that year it ended up getting us a 4-day weekend again, and obviously I thought I was the one who was gonna be invited to visit her. I has been counting on it, planning for it.

Two weeks or so before that she informs me that she wants to invite her boyfriend over instead of it, which is like. Ok. Fair. But for the first time in this entire story I felt jealousy. Because that ranch, those stars, that sky... it was our place. I did not wanna share those experiences I had with her with anyone else. But I kept quiet of course, because how could I not? I tell her “yeah it’s a bit upsetting because I was hopping we could see each other, but I am genuinely happy you get to spend time with him!”

She ghosts me in that week.

To this day, 12 years and 2 months later, I do not know why. I do not know how. I know her grandma called again when she learned the boyfriend was gonna come over and not me, but that’s all.

She ghosted me before ghosting was even a thing. So I had no other social parameter to deal with the situation. I will never forget the absolutely heart wrenching pain I felt when I figured out she had blocked me on MSN. It’s indescribable.

It’s indescribable because she was the first person I felt like actually gave a flying fuck if I lived of died, if I was happy or if I cried. And she had up and decided to fucking cut me out her life without a single fucking word of explanation. One night everything was fine, we even had a group chat with her boyfriend. The next day she is gone forever. I don’t know, nor I think I will ever learn what triggered it. What was the last fucking draw, the last fucking prejudiced word directed at her that made her do it.

My world had been full of color, full of life, and even if literally everyone around me in real life would be so much happier if I didn’t exist (back then I DID NOT get along with my mother), she had seemed this entire time to be so much happier with me around. She was the one person who liked my existence. And literally overnight, I wake up and my world is empty. My world is empty and my air is missing and I don’t fucking know why.

It’s been 12 years and I still don’t know why.

Her boyfriend harassed me a bit back on orkut. Like, I have no idea why. It was unprompted. But it does give you a big fucking clue does it now?

I haven’t gotten a single word from her ever again. I know she’s alive, that’s not the fucking point of the story. I know because I tried to contact her again through every fucking means possible. I even sent her a letter of all things for fuck’s sake. When facebook came along I found her there too and sent her a message. Once 3 years after the fact, and then again 6 years after the fact. That was the last time I tried contacting her.

I cannot say I was “faithful”, so to speak. I cannot say she has been the only thing in my mind. I cannot say that I have not loved again, because I have. I had a serious 3-year relationship, as I mentioned. I had actual gay disasters stories in between. She has not remained the foremost thing in my mind. She has not remained my one true love. There were times where I spent months without thinking about her. Even silly crushes are enough to stray my thoughts away, to stray my heart away

But what worth are those times if I always go back to thinking of her as soon as I see myself without someone? What worth are those times where she is not in my mind, if she had never left my heart to begin with?

What worth is forgetting about her at times when she is my default setting?

I know what you're thinking. “you’re not in love with her, you’re in love with the idea of what could have been”. And you’re absolutely right. I know you are. I’m fully aware of it, of the implications of it, not only on my love life but my mental health.

But she has been the single most influential person in my life. She was the one that got me to writing. She was the one who made face my mother and have The Talk we needed for fucking 16 years about who my father was. Fuck, she is the sole responsible for setting my life on that path, and all the domino effect of events that happened because of the decision of talking to my mother about it. She was the one that made me figure out I was bisexual. Not a lesbian, definitively not straight, but not gay either. Bisexual, out and proud.

She was my first love.

She was my first love and she is the one that makes me give some credit to the saying “at the end of your life you will see you’ve fallen in love with the same person over and over again��.

She was my first love and she makes me go fucking crazy enough to give the whole “soulmates” concept a decent thought, because this cannot have been natural. Loneliness cannot explain the entire thing. It cannot explain how ridiculously drawn I was to her right away. Attraction doesn’t explain it either. It cannot explain how insanely synced up I’ve always felt to her. How insanely connected.

I’m not gonna lie, I loved my ex. Truly and deeply. They were the only person to ever treat me respect, and I felt almost as connected to them as I did to her. Almost.

If we are getting technical, I felt, like, 95% synced up with them. Which is more than the vast majority of humankind can only dream of feeling.

But it was not 100%.

There has only been one person in my life that I have felt 100% connected with. One person in my life I have not been able to shake away, have not been able to get over. Oh I have moved on. I have moved on and moved back in and then moved on again. Many times, over and over.

But I have not gotten over you. I will never get over you. What happened. How it ended. You were my biggest heartbreak. You were my biggest love story, and I didn’t even get to live it.

You make me so illogical that I sincerely hope there is a next life out there. One we can meet, sit down, and talk.

I’m sure you are a completely different person right now. I am a completely different person too. And it is insane, it is illogical, and it is immature to think that these two completely different people would still have any vestige of a thing in common like we did as kids. Because we were kids. We were kids and now we are both adults, and have a single damn thing changed?

A whole fuckton of them changed. Seasons changed. Years changed. The entire fucking world changed. I have changed more than you can possible imagine a person would in 12 years.

But you being the default setting of my heart has not changed. No matter how “unfaithful” I’ve been to you. No matter how much I will keep on living not being attached to you. No matter how much I know at some point I will forget you, forget this feeling, and bask into the pleasure of a new love. No matter how much at some point I will surely think “wow, what a crazy bitch I was back then, with all these feelings for a random girl who certainly doesn’t even remember I exist”.

And that’s one of my biggest fears you see. Cause for me you are half the fucking book. For me you’re the constant element that comes back when sea is calm and things are ok.

And I fear that to you I was nothing more than a line, maybe a throwaway paragraph in your life.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

(was originally an ask, then i rambled a crapload, so if u wanna skip through, just go to the bolded questions)

i am new to the fandom & just found your blog, just wanted to say DAMN its so detailed and everything, i cant wait to read it all! also i was so relieved to find that the fandom is still alive <3

side note im just rambling here, i binged sherlock all really quick and everything is like a blur (idk if im in a state of shock or something, but i do know i was super invested at s1 ep 2, then i finished s4 at 4am one day and i had to read me some johnlock fics to comfort myself and i really dont know how i feel about anything yet just that well, johnlock and i cried during sherlocks fake death even tho i already accidentally read spoilers, and i also cried when they just went to hang out at bars together and hhh and during sherlocks best man speech and sherlocks goodbye to john (…maybe goodbye should be plural)…also i was v mad at eurus and s4 was a hell of a rollercoaster gd), so just wondering, how many times have you watched sherlock? how was the experience each time? (can be about any season or eps or anything, also any snacks u liked to eat while watching or anything of that sort? just curious and thought that might be fun to answer)(apologies if you answered this already i tried to look for it but i got a bit overwhelmed)

btw u are amazing ^^ (also nice timer even tho it makes me sad) and MAD RESPECT for answering so many asks and like SO DETAILED-LY? (i cant grammar) and god ur metas and stuff?? absolutely fantabulous. im legit crying im so glad i found your blog. i know how much work asks take (and like i procrastinate on them for so long…mm months old esp for fic rec lists bc i know those take WORK) so like again, SO MUCH RESPECT thank you for all your hard work!! you are absolutely fantastic and awesome :D please make sure you take care of yourself too <3

ALSO you have a great profile picture + background pic (forgive me i have half a braincell (actually lets make it .7437 gave myself a tiny upgrade even tho i didnt do anything) i forgot what its called…background thing?? idk) i love them!!

if u read through all that tysm, if not thank u anyways for being so amazing, i have a habit of rambling so pls bear with me ^^

(also would it be possible to make this anon? if not feel free to delete this line ^^)

(Submitted by Anonymous)

--------

Hi Lovely!!

Always can make something Anon if y’all ask <3

First of all, SORRY for how long it took me to get back to you with this one. I’m a giant heap of trash and I’m surprised people still come here LOL

Secondly, WELCOME TO THE FANDOM! We love having y’all here, and I’m honoured that you enjoy my blog and content! Also will comment on your praise on my meta here: THANK YOU. I’m very proud of my meta, and especially the SHEER AMOUNT of it I have produced still boggles me mind. Y’all remember when I was creative and thoughtful??? LOL S4 dragged me hard hahah. I still try to write S4 meta, just not as much as I used to. I like speculating, I truly do, but I have so little free time these days because of the nature of my full time job, so I tend to just... do nothing LOL. I find Fic Reccing really relaxing when you have nearly 800 bookmarks. I’m worried I’m becoming stale though. Oh well. I’m just trying to leave my mark here. <3

Thirdly, HAHHAH Thank you for your compliment about my replies to my asks; I genuinely wish I could get more asks finished every day, but I tend to ramble, as you can see, and I just... don’t finish them in a timely manner. Honestly, it’s a relief when I don’t know something because I can then get the community involved to help me out AND I also get new fic recs that way too LOL. I also draft a TONNE of asks and when I do that, I tend to just keep adding MORE and MORE and MORE so I have to post them, LOL. 

And finally: My fave episode is TAB; it was the episode I studied the closest and my analysis of the trailer is my “claim to fame”. I just love it to bits. It’s the episode I’ve watched the most. S3 is my fave season, and it’s the SEASON I’ve watched the most, no less than 30 or 40 times. Season 2, then 1. I have only seen S4 like 5 times in full total, and horribly enough, TFP is the most-watched episode: I watched the Leak, the airdate, and I went and saw it in the theatres because I already bought the ticket before it aired so I just... didn’t care. And then at least 3 more times in Watchalongs. So yeah :| I still haven’t watched the BluRay I bought, but I hated having an incomplete set so I bought it when it went on sale fore 10 bucks LOL.

But yeah, S1 and 2 I watched together, and I LOVED the show. I joined fandom the summer before S3 aired, and S3 is when I REALLY got into the fandom. I’ve been pretty much here since then, about 7 years I think now. When I saw S4, it was incredulity and disappointment with it. That’s really it. I’m still a fence sitter these days about the series as a whole, but I’m leaning more and more to “no S5 for at least 3 more years” kinda thing. Just... everyone involved seems so disinterested in the show these days, minus Mofftiss to keep pushing the Sherlock™ Brand to make money.

ANYWAY. Thanks for writing to me!! This was such a joy to read when I first got it, and I just... have been really overwhelmed the past few weeks that I just have only been sticking to shorter asks. But I had some free time tonight when I’m answering this, so THANK YOU. 

I hope you’re still around, and I hope you still enjoy your time here! Don’t hesitate to ask me anything else!! <3 <3

[letspurpletogether]

Out of the Void || BTS

↳ Summary: The one where the boys stumble upon that one fic and they all end up reading. (This is a crack fic inspired by @btssavedmylifeblr’s Void, because my own words are not enough to describe how an amazing story Void it is, and what a outstanding writer Bee is).

⇢ Warnings: BEWARE OF SPOILERS!! This things should be full of them so I suggest you to read all of Void before reading this just in case. Also, for those entitled rude anons: stop demanding updates from the fan fiction writers like they owe you shit, cause they don’t! And stop coming at them to complain about their publishing schedule. This is done for fun and for free, if you can’t be patient and respect their creative process then fuck off!

A/N: Also, I had so much fun writing this. I wanted to keep adding and adding stuff. However, since english is not my mother language i had some trouble describing the scenes the way I pictured them in my head. Therefore, I decided to leave it like this for now. 

(TT-TT) Im sorry, Bee! I did try my best, I know it doesn’t do Void justice. But I still wanted to write it for you because Void is such an amazing story! 

That’s it! Please,enjoy!

→ 01

[...]

He shouldn’t be doing this.

Hoseok checked over his shoulder again before turning back to the phone in his hands. It wasn’t like if someone were to come into his studio right now and catch him watching porn.

Hell, this was so much worse.

Especially considering how he was supposed to be working on the rap arrangement for the new song, and not checking out a piece of fan-fiction... If Namjoon were to catch him he was going to give him hell for days.

He had strictly advised the six of them against it several times, but to be honest Hoseok was to eager to find out what happened next to actually acknowledge the suggestion. Besides, he was he eldest of the two and it wasn’t like he had to listen to his band member. Joon was only the leader when the cameras were out. Inside their dorms he couldn’t even remember to wash the dishes when he was supposed to or take the clothes out of the dryer so they wouldn’t end up a crumble mess the next morning.

Also, it was all Jimin’s fault.

His dongsaeng had sent him the link without any explanation last week. It was a silly thing they did to each other trying to make the other cringe with whatever weird-ass story they could find, mostly on Twitter. It was all for the laughs but they had stopped doing it when Hoseok had accidentally send Seokjin a rather explicit piece that involved Jimin and Yoongi in a threesome with some kind of catgirl trying to get her pregnant. It was meant for the young boy, of course and that slip of hand had resulted in a hysteric Seokjin exposing them right in front of the others.

Hoseok has been so embarrassed after that he couldn’t even look at Yoongi in the face for a whole ass week. Even though his hyung had said it was fine. It didn’t help that Taehyung and Jungkook wouldn’t let the topic die either. Those rascals, he made sure to make them wore their asses off in the following dance practices.

But anyways, he and Jimin had agreed to stop.

So it was a surprise to receive a new link from him after a couple months. He’d ignored it at first, being too busy with practice and rehearsals to bother with checking it up. But yesterday while waiting for his appointment with the cupping therapist, he’d absentmindedly opened it and was actually surprised with what he’d found. Written in English, it was a space story... and they were astronauts!

At that moment he been too oblivious to care and read the warnings or summary on top of the post. For a moment of innocent wonder he actually got caught up in the first scene. He was a scientist in space, it couldn’t get any cooler than that! But of course, he had soon realized what type of story it was.

The problem was that it didn’t start right off with the porn part like most stories he’s found while browsing the darkest depths of the ARMY’s fandom. He’d read some weird shit himself, demons, half-animal people, male pregnancyㅡHell! even tentacles once. The kind of things his fans could come up with was exhilarating, and it blew his mind that the weirdest and kinkiest were for some reason the best well-written of allㅡ.

But this story was different.

It had a storyline, an actual estructure, inciting incident, clear stakes, the whole pack. Years listening to his father reviewing novels and short-stories had resulted in him developing an appetite for well-written stories. And even though the main character was that Y/N type their fans where so keen about, she wasn’t plain at all. She struggled, and that was nice to read. Besides, all that astronaut stuff sounded so legit that he almost consider the possibility of the author being an astronaut herself. He’d always been a fan of fantasy and sci-fi since he was child and his father brought him the entire collection of Jules Verne’s novels for his eleventh birthday. Stories about voyages to far and unknown places were his guilty pleasure, so of course he got hooked up with this piece faster than he’d ever with any other he’d read so far.

But he couldn’t finished the chapter that time because the masseur was already calling his name. The scrolling bar told him he wasn’t even half way through it, so he’d copied the link for later and went to the therapist office. So now there he was resuming his reading with renewed eagerness.

The main character had just arrived at a green house inside the ship. And there was Yoongi.

Hoseok huffed and raised an eyebrow when he realized this scene focused all on his elder. Wasn’t he supposed to be the main character here? Not that he complained, though. Yoongi’s fingers where indeed nice after all and wouldn’t blame the girl for obsess over them. But in most stories he’d read there was always a lead, and he assumed by the first scene it was going to be himself. Maybe this was a threesome?

He quickly scrolled back up to the story information, searching for the pairing section where he knew his questions would be answered. /OT7 x reader/

He flinched.

“All of us? What...?”. Did that mean everyone was a love interest? Or that the main character was supposed to screw all of them at once? How was that supposed to work if there was just one woman in the whole crew?

Oh wait...

The realization hit him. Of course, that was the whole plot. Seven guys and one girl, and they had to fight for her love? It was something like that for sure, wasn’t it? She would pick one of them and then they’d have sex. He kept reading—

«Your deepest darkest fantasies- the ones you always turned to on your most stressed and anxious nights - were the ones involving the entire crew. The idea of them finding out what a slut you were for them and passing you between them filled you with an embarrassing level of arousal. You would imagine them taking turns filling you until all your thoughts of loneliness and emptiness had been fucked out of you. And you would sleep like a baby.»

—or not...

He scratched his chin, a little confused now. Was this actually going to be gangbang? Or more importantly, was he actually going to read this till the end? He did like threesomes, not that he’d been in one... Yet. Their schedules hardly ever allowed them to properly date someone, and hooking up with a random stranger was way too risky with the level of fame they’d reached at this point. But the idea of threesomes was very appealing, although he’d never actually consider having a gangbang with all his members. However... he wasn’t going to cross off reading about one just yet.

Just as he was about to resume his reading, the door flew open and Jimin‘s face appeared. “Hyung!”

Hoseok jumped in his seat, his phone fell on his lap.

“Shit...!”, he took a deep breath and glared at his band member. “You almost gave me a heart attack, Jimin!”

A sly grin appeared on the youngest face.

“Why? What were you doing?”

Hoseok cleared his throat. Had he been discovered?

“Nothing”, he lied so poorly he wanted to smack himself on the face.

“You were totally reading it, weren’t you?”, Jimin chuckled. “Did you get to the video part already?”

“No, what video part?”

Jimin raised both palms.

“Sorry, not going to give you any spoilers”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Anyway... Why did you send it?” He asked, retrieving his phone and unlocking the screen again. “I thought we agreed on not doing that anymore”

“Yeah, but Taehyung send it to me”

“What?” Hoseok frowned, and turned around in his chair to face the boy. That was a surprise. “Why would he...?” He shook his head, sometimes Taehyung needn’t a reason to do the most random things.

Jimin simply shrugged.

“He also sent it to Jungkook and Namjoon-hyung”, Jimin ran his hand through his hair and giggled. “I think everyone is reading it now”

“Wait- What?!” Hoseok chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “Are you for real?”

“Haven’t you checked the group chat?”

“No, I was...” Hoseok pressed his tongue against his cheek. “-reading”.

“Huh”Jimin wiggled his eyebrows. “Is cool isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s ... interesting”, he conceded. Jimin let himself in and plopped down on the spare chair he kept in his studio in case he needed to work with the senior producers.

“Who do you think she’ll choose?”

“For what?”

“Come on, hyung.” Jimin snickered, “You know what I mean”

“Are you sure she is supposed to choose one of us?”

“What-? Obviously...”, Jimin shifted on the sofa, his face stared confused at Hoseok for a moment. But then he gasped, suddenly realizing what he mean. “Do you mean-? All of us?!”

“Why not?” Hoseok shrugged. “It’s just a story, anyways. You know some of our fans like kinky stuff and there’s nothing wrong with that”

“I mean! I know that! Its not-”. Jimin’s face turned a bright shade of red. “W-we shouldn’t be reading about that. What if they get... ideas!” He brought a hand to his forehead and looked back at him with a worried expression. Hoseok spluttered in a laugh, but it soon dwindled when he realized Jimin was actually serious about his concern.

“Jimin...”

“Goddamnit...!” Hoseok observed as his younger member stood up and facepalmed himself “I’m an idiot! I bet that was Taehyung’s plan all along”

“Taehyung’s plan was to have us... read fan-fiction?”

“About a gangbang!”

Hoseok rolled his eyes.

“It’s just fan fiction, Jimin. Not a proposition”, he said, but Jimin wasn’t paying attention to him anymore.

“The others can’t read that. I have to stop them”, and he was about to storm out the door, but Hoseok had to stop him.

“Hey, hey!”, he grabbed him by the elbow. “Now you’re just exaggerating”

“No, I’m not”, Hoseok couldn’t comprehend why Jimin was so scandalized. “We can’t have a gangbang, hyung!”

“No, no, no!”, he “First of all, no one is having a gangbang. Second of all, why does it bother you so much?”

“It doesn’t!”

“Really?”

“I just don’t want to be... I don’t want to share a partner with the six of you”

“Why, you’re worried she might like it too much and dump you?” Hoseok teased. However, upon seeing Jimin getting all self-conscious, the smile was erased from his face.

“Jimin, come on. You don’t really think that would happen”

“I don’t know, you are all good looking and mature, and more talented that-“

“Stop it. You are not less than us, stop beating yourself so much specially over a fictional situation. Do you forget who has the third largest fan base among us?”

“It because ARMY likes when I act all cute and pretty, and want to baby me like a child. I’m the cutie, the tiny one...”, his voiced turned into an almost whisper at the end. “I’m never the big... manly man...”

“Jimin...”

“What?”

“This isn’t about the story, is it?”

“No... yes- well, not this one...”, he paused, looking at his feet, bashfully. “It’s just the other stories...”

“What other stories?”, Hoseok asked, but Jimin just shrugged. “I don’t get it...”

“Ugh- hyung it’s nothing really”, he was quick to reply, standing up again. “You are right, I’m so over-reacting... it’s just a story”

“Okay...”, Hoseok leaned back in his chair and looked again at Jimin who was standing next to the door. Hands behind his back, like a child waiting to be scolded. “You sure that’s all?”

“Yep”, that extra ‘p’ sound at the end was enough evidence that he was lying. But he was also aware of Jimin’s uneasiness so it was probably better to let him off the hook for now.

“Well, then...”, Hoseok rubbed his neck. “I really should get back to work then”

Jimin gave him a short smile and left without saying another word. Hoseok turned around in his chair to face his computer and actually get some work before the day was over.

But maybe...ㅡHe glanced at his phone next to the mouseㅡ, just maybe... one more chapter wouldn’t hurt either.

[...]

It was past three am when he arrived back at the dorm. He usually wasn’t the one to stay overnight at the studio like Joonie and Yoongi-hyung. But time flew from his grasp like an oiled rope after he finished the first chapter and he had to stay late to finish his assignments. He didn’t want Pdogg-hyung to yell at him in their next briefing. However, the pull of the story was too strong for him to resist.

He had gone to sleep right away, and with the first light the next day he was already reaching for his cellphone and logging into the Tumblr account he had created just for this. He needed to know what happened next, story-Jimin had to be out of his mind to give the main character a video of him masturbating. It was a risky move, he wouldn’t think Jimin was capable of it in real life... Maybe Seokjin-hyung was shameless enough to pull that one out, and Taehyung...

“Yeah, probably Taehyung...”, he mused to himself as he propped himself down on his elbows.

“Probably Taehyung what?”, Jimin’s sleepy voice asked from his side of the room.

“Oh! Jiminie, did I wake you?”, Jimin shook his head and asked again what he meant by ‘probably Taehyung’. Hoseok sat on his bed and stretched his arms. “Nothing, it’s just this story...”

“Why do you keep reading it, hyung?”, Jimin groaned and covered his face with both palms in exhaustion. Hoseok simply chuckled, Jimin’s concerns where silly. Plus, he wasn’t going to deny himself the pleasure of a good story just because his roommate thought his best friend was trying to get them to have an orgy.

“We are not having a gangbang, just relax”

Jimin huffed but didn’t argue further.

A sudden nasal shriek shattered the morning’s quietness and reached their ears through the door. Hoseok almost jumped off his bed to Jimin’s, what on earth was that? It sounded like some kind of hysteric bird .

“First you send me that porn thing and then you wanna talk about gangbangs?! Gangbangs!!”

Okay, that hysteric bird sounded like Seokjin now. And by the volume of it, it was coming from the kitchen.

“It’s not like that, hyung! You don’t even listen!” And that was definitely Joon’s.

Hoseok exchanged confused glances with Jimin that soon turned into curious ones. As if on cue, both of them got up their beds and ran into the kitchen to check on their band members.

Namjoon was leaning on the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in one hand, the other scratching his forehead. Meanwhile Seokjin was beating some eggs in a plastic bowl, ranting about how much porn was acceptable in a household.

“It’s not porn! It’s basically literature!” Namjoon sounded as much fed up as he looked embarrassed. Seokjin let out a sarcastic chuckle.

“It’s porn! And you are a pervert!”

Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“If you could just read it-!”

“I have enough with the viruses that keep popping on the computer because of you shady search historial!” It was hilarious just listening to them arguing back and forth like and old married couple. But Hoseok was more curious about whether they were talking about what he though they were.

“Is this about the space story?”, he chimed in, resting his elbows on the marble island across Seokjin’s cooking station. Jimin climbed on a stool next to him.

“You too, now?”, Seokjin huffed, giving him and Jimin disgusted look. “Not that I’m surprised, considering your fascination with breeding cats”

“It was a cat-girl! And that was a mistake!” Hoseok’s ears suddenly burned. “But whatever...”

“Wait- So did you read it, or not?”, this time Namjoon was the one to speak.

“I am reading it, I’m on chapter two”, he replied and Jimin nodded along.

“Did you get to the video part right?”, Joon asked and before Hoseok had a chance to speak, Seokjin’s loud huff cut him off.

“Can I cook in peace without having to hear about how much you want a gangbang, pleaaaaase?”

“Com’on, hyung! I never said I wanted a gangbang!” Namjoon shot him a glare before turning back to Hoseok. His hands came to fondle with the fruit bowl in front of him.  “What I was trying to explain to this hyung is that I do think it’s an interesting guessing exercise for figuring out the extends of human behaviour in such adverse conditions”

“But you said you wanted to do it!”

“No! I said to explore it as in talk about it! WITH WORDS!”, Namjoon glared at their hyung, as a faint blush covered his cheeks. It was clear that “If you could’ve just listened for a moment instead of acting like a scandalized prude!”

“Yeah, hyung. It’s just a story, you are over reacting”, said Jimin, taking Hoseok by surprise considering all he had to say about it last night.

“Well, forgive me for not wanting a gangbang!”

“No one’s having a gangbang, for God’s sake!”

“I wouldn’t mind”, a fifth voice joined the conversation out of the blue and all the heads turned in the direction of the hallway.

Yoongi-hyung was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and messy bed hair. A slight frown hardening his features. He’d most likely woken up because all of the noise.

Seokjin let out a sarcastic chuckle.

“You too, Yoongi?”

“How long have you been standing there?”, Jimin asked. Yoongi shrugged off a yawn and walked over to grab an apple from the bowl Namjoon was holding. 

“It’s hard to keep sleeping with this hyung nagging so loud this early in the morning”, he pointed to his eldest and bit on the fruit.

“You know what?!”, Seokjin scoffed, and put aside all his cooking implements. “Y’all can make your own breakfast! Seriously...”

And walked away.

“So noisy...”, Yoongi mumbled as he munched on his apple.

“You read it too, hyung?”, Namjoon asked. Yoongi turned to him, leaning on his elbows. Hoseok’s eyes betrayed him as they followed Yoongi’s movements and the way he arched his back, lifting his ass in the air so subtly.

“Since Tae shared it in the group chat I figured I should give it a try”, he shrugged seemingly desinterestedm, but Hoseok knew him better than that. Yoongi liked to pretende he didn’t care about stuff other that making music, but it was clear to him by the way he was behaving, that the older rapper had enjoyed the story a little bit too much. “It was good”.

“You’re only saying that because you are not the main character”, said Jimin.

“At least I’m not the character that gave the girl a video of me jerking off”

“First of all, she asked! and second, you messed up big time keeping that memory card, hyung!”

Yoongi sneered at the younger boy. 

“I got her off, you didn’t”

“Wait, what are you-?”

Jimin’s face turned a bright red, his nosetrils flared. Namjoon just chocked a laugh, almost knocking off the fruit bowl. For a moment, Hoseok only stared in confussion at them. He couldn’t recall something like that happening in the story yet and he realized they were probably far ahead of him. 

“Hey! Don’t give me any spoilers! I haven’t reached that part yet”.

But Yoongi and Jimin just ignored him, continuing their teasing banter.

“I don’t think she’ll forgive you. EVER!”

“She was thinking of me while fucking you”

“At least I got to- to... be with her!”

“You can’t even say fuck without blushing. Space-Jimin is lightyears ahead of you”, a smug grin appeared in Yoongi’s face, clearly pleased with his joke and Jimin’s fuming face.

“That’s a bit rich coming from you, hyung”, Namjoon said with a smirk. “I mean, last time I checked you couldn’t even look at Halsey in her training clothes without turning red as a beetroot”

“That’s-!”, Yoongi coughed, a bite of the apple going the wrong way. Suddenly matching Jimin with his red cheeks. “That’s different!”

“Neither one of you would ever dare to act like the way the author portraits you. Just admit it”, Namjoon snickered. “You don’t have what it takes”.

“Oh, and you do?”

“I’m just saying if the seven of us where trapped in a spaceship and there’s just one woman for miles and miles...”, He crossed his arms, chin raised proudly. “I’m guessing you’d be too shy to get her attention”.

“It’s not a competition, anyway. It’s a story and it has already been written”, argued Yoongi. “And I was her first choice”.

“Technically it was Hobi”, Jimin pointed out. “She was so ready to throw herself over him in that lab scene”.

“Well Hobi doesn’t count here because he did nothing”

“Excuse me?”, Hoseok scoffed. “Clearly I’m the best character, unlike others I’m actually being professional”.

“Yeah, right. Professional until Yoongi-hyung tells you he screwed the main character”, Taehyung popped up from behind him making Hoseok shriek in surprise, followed closely by a sleepy-faced Jungkook.

“You little-! You almost killed me!”, Taehyung only laughed, joining the his chuckling hyungs.

“And he didn’t screw anything- anyone!”, said Jimin.

“Well, his fingers did”.

“Stop talking!”, Hoseok shoved Taehyung aside and shook his head. “You’ve already spoiled the story for me enough as it is! At least let me finish the chapters before we talk about this”.

“Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t talk about it before breakfast”, Namjoon scratched his chin. “Gguk, go tell Jin-hyung he can come back now”.

“Why, was he here?” asked Jungkook. 

“He left because he didn’t what to have a gangbang”, Yoongi answered, almost offended, like he was telling Jungkook his hyung had turned down some fishing trip.

Jungkook’s eyes where suddendly wide open.

“What-?!”

“It’s the story, nevermind!”, Jimin waved a hand in the air in dismissal.

“Wait, so we can’t have a gangbang?”

“Are you serious right now, hyung?”, Jimin gave Yoongi the side eye. His hyung response was simply shrugging.

“I like to keep my options open”.

“Yeah, maybe one thing you shouldn’t keep open is your mouth”. 

The group erupted in laughter at Jimin’s witty comeback. Yoongi raised the hand that held half an apple and pretended to throw it at Jimin’s head, only to join the laughter when the dancer fell from his chair by his motion.

Hoseok chuckled and shook his head. 

What a way to start the day.

. . . .

[nighttimepixels]

night how do u do it, how do u make things so gay but also pan but also hilarious?? WIZARDRY. Seriously though it's great XD it feels really organic with the girls especially. like, not forced, or so fast? slow burn but also just... organic, idk XD kinda makes me wonder what your early gay realization was! if that's okay to ask??? feels like u got ur finger on the pulse of 'oh shit i'm gay',,,

*wheeze*

Thank you so much?? (//▽//)ゞ I dunno about finger on the pulse but I do try X) Especially with the queer content! Like, most of the girls are pan (per usual, excepting Crimson, who is pansexual but mostly finds herself homoromantic, and Blade, who just id’s as a big ol’ lesbian), but I specifically wanted to write their fic from a wlw perspective. So it means a lot to hear that you think so! ♡♡♡

as for my ‘realization’ - sure, I don’t mind, heh. But it’s under a cut since it’s not skeleton-related content so people can easily skip it if they don’t wanna read. ┐(´∀｀)┌

Long story short, I was the total quintessential sapphic ‘ahaha, we’re just best friends! I’m just comfortable in my sexuality! She’s just the prettiest, coolest, hottest- oh no she can dance, oh geez I sure do love when we’re working on theater tech together and I’m up in the lighting booth helping her check the spots and oh wow she sure does look Very Good in Those Lights ahahahah-’

(=▿= ||||)

Big case of falling-in-love-with-your-bestie, basically. She was new to the state, no less, and we listened to Fall Out Boy and the Arctic Monkeys and yes even Smashing Pumpkins together,,, she got a record player when we were 16 and hoo boi the baby gay feelings when we had sleepovers and she put on a record and we ended up dancing on her bed with only the fairy lights on in the room;;; Meanwhile, she totally dated multiple guys over the years. Which, fair!

Anyways, cue her between boyfriends when we’re 16 or so, a month after our first water rave (yes, legit a thing, and yes, I legit was lowkey a raver for a few years haha - water raves were done after-hours in an indoor waterpark). Cue another sleepover, just us, this time we were in a pile of blankets in her dad’s small study (downstairs, vs all the bedrooms at her place which were upstairs - so we didn’t have to be as quiet, a perk as a teenager at 2am).

Cue her admitting that the guy she was into basically alluded to intending to ask her out officially the next week (might’ve been a school dance coming up..? probably something like that)… but her also admitting she’d been “curious” about “what it would be like to kiss a girl, y’know-” she had a friend where she’d lived previously that was into girls, etc… heh, any wlw probably gets the vague ‘oh I have a friend who, yknow-’ when trying to hedge about curiousity.

Aaaanyways… she sure did ask my oblivious self if she could ‘try it’ with me XD and my, extremely dense gay ass, sure did say “oh, okay- I mean, I’m comfortable with my sexuality! So, um, if you want to…”

… comfortable with my sexuality, mmmmmhm. (ಠ_ಠ)  legit thought I was straight, just an ally, etc. Yep.

Cue smooch that made my poor gay heart flutter. Talkin’ all the good good gay feels. How soft girls are,,, how nice it was that she smelled nice….. how pretty she looked when her eyelashes fluttered closed with the moonlight from the window of course falling over her profile, how cute it was when her leg bumped mine-

Cue me, post kiss, internally saying “yup!! totally comfortable in my sexuality!!!! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ “

I never ended up properly confessing to her, btw, but about a year later I finally internally just casually went “oh. huh. shit.” after I got a crush on another girl and couldn’t deny that one as easily XD aaaaand after the aforementioned best-friend-who-was-coincidentally-that-fateful-sleepover-night-my-first-willing-kiss, that same bestie casually invited me to a threesome-makeout with the guy she started dating (who I was acquaintancey-friends with as well). Talk about making that guy’s very confused day when his girlfriend and her best friend took off their shirts after he, looking like he was convinced he was hallucinating, agreed to the situation. Aaaaaaand another threesome makeout with her and a different guy after that boyfriend left for college.

Funny, really, bc looking back it really was a... hm. A loophole, if that makes sense? Basically, I was ‘allowed’ to kiss a girl if it was under the pretense of making a guy’s day.

I mean, still a dangerous game to play, but a loophole in the 2000s nonetheless

I was… a youth……..

XD

And hindsight makes me go “oh gods, yeah, no, I’ve been majorly Not Straight the Whole Time” but shit’s confusing in the best of times, let alone pre-2010s when millenial and older queer folk had the added fun of society being extra dumb-and-or-awful outside of the few carved out Accepting pockets. No judgement if it takes you decades, half your life, whatever. Everyone’s circumstances are different, and I respect the hell outta you and your journey!!

Live your best life, I guess is the moral?? And also go with the flow. But also, if you find yourself kissing someone of a not-’opposite’-gender and thinking “wow I sure am straight, but this happens to be absolutely the best”, maybe consider the… possibilities that you have inclinations towards the delightfully queer end of the spectrum. °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° 

And now I just take that energy and pour it into making queer characters so… Woo!! Smooch a skeleton, hold hands and be soft,, insert to your heart’s content!

[nad-zeta]

Match up ♥

Hiya, hon! ♥ I love your match-ups and honestly, I’ve been meaning to request one for a loooong time, but I haven’t had the chance to do so till now cause I’ve been drowning in lots and lots of homework TwT

I’m female, 25 years old, dark chocolate, shoulder-length hair, brown eyes. I’m a small potato 157 cm (5'1 ft) and I’m curvy.

I’m a Gemini, INFP-A. I love and need my alone time, though I enjoy spending time with my friends and loved ones. I use my free time to write fics, read books (Though I haven’t read a book out of sheer pleasure in a long while thanks to college lol,) draw my stickemen and play League of Legends.

Being surrounded by too many people is draining af and it can quickly become overwhelming tbh. I prefer to be surrounded by a couple of calm people and be my yahoo self with them. Even though I’m a mature person, I can be very childish and stubborn at times. I’m the Mom Friend™, a worrywart cause I care, I have a strong personality.  I’m caring, kind, friendly, funny, assertive, strong-willed. I’m usually the one people goes to when they need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. I will stand for my friends without giving it a second thought. I definitely won’t tell you what you want to hear, but what you need to hear. And due to the way I express myself, people who don’t know me at all tend to find me intimidating which is kinda funny! 😂

When I’m with my friends, I try to come up with jokes or puns to make them laugh. I don’t take myself too seriously…I laugh at my own dumb-ass 😂😂 cause it’s okay to make mistakes, nobody’s perfect after all. And this is probably why it pisses me off when people make fun of my friends. Binch, fite me! So I just go and stand for them as politely and civilized as I possibly can. I’m usually talkative but every once in a while I just feel like isolating for a bit and be there exclusively for myself.

Hmm… I’m corny af and a hopeless romantic, I’m weak for smooth flirts and I like being teased cause I LOVE teasing back. I have a sweet tooth, I love tea. I love eating…in general.

I’m afraid I’m rambling at this point so Imma stop it here 😂

Thank you so much for doing these awesome match ups! ♥ ♥ ♥

Hi, there love! Thanx so much for the kind words, and can I just say I absolutely love your writing!  ♥ ♥ ♥ Hehehe also I feel you with the school work! I hope you enjoy it love, and I hope you have a good day! @venulus

So I match you with………………………. Hideyoshi

So for me honestly it was between Hideyoshi and Mitsunari lol

Classic Hideyoshi did not trust you one bit. The moment you arrived, he saw you as a threat to his lord and was watching you like a hawk. You were quiet, stubborn and assertive and to him, that meant just one thing…. SPY. 

You worked super hard and quickly started adapted to the castle life. Everyone that has worked with you absolutely adored you. Although Hideyoshi was still not buying it. He legit thought that sweet kind friendliness was all an act, to get the people around you to trust you. You kept mostly to yourself in any case, as you found loud people to be overbearing and exhausting, and unfortunately for you that would be most of the castle residents. Although in saying that you had started to form some good friendships among the Oda forces.

One day Nobunaga announced that they were going to war and that you and Mitsunari were to stay behind and guard the castle. You were super happy about that- well not happy that your new friends could die, but happy to get some alone time and not have Hideyoshi continually looking over your shoulder. Plus Mitsunari was one of your close friends so you were super happy he was staying behind with you! 

You honestly never realized just how bad Mitsunari’s habits were until he passed out in front of you one day, while informing you of the state of the war. You knew the warlords cared for him, but you never realized to what extent. Your mama bear instincts instantly kicked in. You semi moved into Hideyoshi manor while he was away, so that it would be easier for you to take care of the resident angel. You made sure he was well-fed, room was clean and he got a decent amount of sleep. Hell, you even helped him work out an eating, training and sleeping schedule which you stuck on his wall to remind him to eat and sleep. After a while Mitsunari fell into a good routine with the schedule and was now almost capable of caring for himself

Mitsunari had one day informed you that the Oda forces had won the war and were now on their way back. The two of you cuties excitingly waited at the gate for your friends to return only for your faces to go from joyful to concerned in 0,2 seconds flat. Hideyoshi was passed out and heavily bandaged. Seem like the idiot went a bit over the top with protecting Nobunaga.

That night as you and Mitsunari gave your reports regarding the castle affairs in his absence, Nobunaga couldn’t help but noticed how healthy and good Mitsunari looked. You told him that you helped him organize his time and made sure that he all the basics were taken care of, i.e. sleeping, training and eating. Nobunaga thought for a moment and then broke out into the biggest grin “I commend you for your work with the castle and Mitusnari fireball, and I now assign you to care for my right-hand man”. You had no complaints, even though Hideyoshi hated you, the inner mom friend in you could never refuse someone in need of assistance.

You moved into Hideyoshi’s manor full time now. While you were there, you cared for both men. You changed Hide’s dressing, cleaned his wounds and made sure that he got plenty of food. Most nights, you would actually sleep in Hideyoshi’s room, caring for his high fevers and low key doing some of the easy paperwork just so that the man wouldn’t be overloaded with work when he was healed. Hideyoshi would shift in and out of consciousness, and boy was he confused to see you sleeping at his writing desk one night. Sometimes when he opened his eyes, he would see you place a cool soothing cloth on his head, other times he would listen to you talk about anything and everything. He would smile a little thinking that your presence in his room was a fever-induced dream.

After a week, his fever finally broke, and the wounds were now slowly, starting to close up and heal. He woke up that morning to you passed out at his writing desk. He had to do a double-take. He thought you caring for him had all been a big dream. He watched your beautiful sleeping face for a moment or two, draped his blankie over your shoulders and went to Nobunaga to receive work. His mind couldn’t help but wander back to you sleeping in his room, how many nights had he woken up to see you there by his side, and then the thoughts got dark, how many time had he accused you of being a spy of calling your kindness an act. HE felt his stomach drop, he honestly needed to make it up to you. But first he needed to check in with Nobunaga.

Nobunaga basically chased him away, saying he would only receive work once you reported that he was completely healthy and ready to come back to work. He walked back to his manor deflated, only to be met with you at the front door “where have you been young man, last time I check you just barely escaped death and are in no state to be walking about”. Hideyshi’s eyes widened he had never been scolded before. You stood there hands on your hips with the biggest frown, eyes filled with worry and concern. It made Hideyoshi’s heart melt that even though he had treated you like an enemy you still cared for him and spent countless days and nights by his side. You led him back to his futon and tucked him in. You brought him lunch and filled him in on everything that had happened since his been unconscious. 

TBH as the days went by Hideyoshi was falling more and more in love with you, he could kick himself for treating you so horribly. And spending countless days with you, gently and sweetly caring for him, makes him realizes more and more what a gigantic fool he was. Yes, you were stubborn and assertive, but you were also the kindest, sweetest, gentlest, friendliest girl in the whole world. 

He made a vow to himself, to make it up to you once he was all better. It took two months, but finally, this boy was back to his full health and absolutely smitten with you and you with him. 

You had come to realize during your time with him what a naturally flirty charmer he truly was, and the mountain of letters he received from women no longer surprised you. Honestly his smooth flirting even had your knees going weak. You had come to enjoy the light teasing and banter the two of you engaged in as you cared for him. He loved that you weren’t afraid to give him the hard solid facts and be a friendly shoulder for him to cry on, especially during times when he felt so weak and worthless for being injured and unable to serve his lord. You would tell him what he needed to hear, not what he wanted to hear. 

The time had finally come that you had to move out of his manor and back into the palace, and TBH Hideyoshi was actually a little sad. He was definitely going to miss your vibrant energy, and hours and hours spent together, talking each other’s ears off. 

Now that he was healed it was time to make up for the ill way he treated you in the past, and low key thank you for taking such good care of him. He would take you out for tea every moment he could get. He knew you had a sweet tooth like Nobunaga, so he would ensure that there was always something delicious to eat at the little tea date the two of you went on. You of course never complained cause the three things you loved most in the world would be right infornt of you, tea, sweet and Hideyoshi. 

You discovered that Hideyoshi actually had a hilarious sense of humour. The two of you would laugh and tease each other all throughout the dates. Ooh boy, did he love your puns and honestly you couldn’t help but laugh at his hilariously unfunny dad jokes.

Hideyoshi is very much like you, a hopeless romantic, so during his free time, he is always planning some or other fun activity for the two of you to do. Whether it’s holding your hand as the two of you, stroll on the beach or taking you up a mountain to watch the sunset together. He has always got something cute up his sleeve 

Your favourite moment was one day when the two of you were out for tea, the sky started getting dark. The two of you were having such a good time you didn’t even notice it was about to rain. As the two of you were walking back to the castle the cloud burst and the light drizzle turned into a full-blown downpour. Even though you were super mature, you did have your childish moments. You looked up at Hideyoshi with the biggest grin on your face and started dancing in the rain, while he took cover at a nearby shop. With outstretched arms, you started twirling in the rain and splashing in the puddle “Hey you’re going to catch a cold”, at that you simply took Hideyoshi’s hand in yours and dragged him into the rain to dance with you. He shook his head at you, but couldn’t help but dance along with you. 

You stared up into his amber eyes, and this was when Hideyoshi decided to make his feeling for you known. He cupped your wet cheeks in his warm hands and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss. 

After he pulled away and saw your sunshine smile, he picked you up and twired you around in the rain. He was so happy. The two of you played in the rain together without a care in the world until sunset.

Hideyoshi staying true to his doting self, of course, ran the two of you a warm bubble bath to fight off the chill from spending the afternoon in the rain. He pampered you from the moment you walked into his manor door. After your relaxing bath, he dried your hair and gave you a foot massage followed by a cheesy candlelit dinner for the two of you. He had been waiting so long to confess his feeling for you that he couldn’t help but want to pamper the shit out of his love

This man definitely respected your alone time and knew that everyone needed some time to themselves every now and then. 

He loved it when you worked in his room and kept him company as he worked. Hideyoshi is definitely the type to drop a few kisses on your forehead, cheek and lips whenever the two of you bump into each other in the hallway. 

He loves to spoil you any chance he can get. The two of you honestly turn into the castle mom and dad caring for everyone in the castle. Often the two of you cuties can be found nestled in each other’s arms or sharing sweets at your favourite tea house.

Other potential matches……… Mitsunari 

 I hope you liked it, dear! <3<3

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 16 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: OKAY DUCKENZIES. This part dragged my ass. It took forever, but once again, I’m so happy with it. My schedule has been punishing. I can’t stop writing and never feel like doing anything else but I have a full time job and my relationship and all this other shit in my life and I have to sleep sometimes and I’m trying to find a balance. But I’m so happy lately? I’m so lit all the time, everyone I know IRL is like “what is UP with you” because I’m writing a book (this, this is the book) and I’m fucking beside myself, I’m so relieved about it, I’m so happy about it all the time but I’m also having a hard time disconnecting from it to plug into other things lately. Still working out how to do that. The thought Kenzie has about Duncan in the beginning of this part (”...you are exalted in my eyes and my body and my soul”) is literally a thought she had about him in another life, and she will never know that. Plume has a really fancy three-course menu that I didn’t feel like writing about at length, so I sort of chose one thing for each of them off it and skipped the rest. Here’s A SUNDAY KIND OF LOVE, imo one of the best love songs of all time. The man who got upstairs at Kenzie’s work and tried to hurt her will feature again. I listened to this remix of Imogen Heap’s Headlock a lot for the sex (69 dudes) in this part (sex which I am very proud of if I may say so, I can write a goddamn sex scene y’all--THREE SEX SCENES THANKS); cuz the mood in that is VERY sex-vibe Duckenzie. Duncan’s dream that Kenzie is an angel is based on @inkedbadwolfart‘s ICONIC Michael x Mallory piece. Deep Creek Lake is real but the cabin I’m creating that belongs to the Shepherd family is of my own invention. I’ve never liked “Dunc” as a nickname for Duncan and it doesn’t really fit Duckenzie, so I came up with another nickname I like more and Kenzie will indeed call him Dunny every now and then when she’s feeling particularly affectionate from here on out. This is the top Kenzie wears in the morning and this is the skirt (which I ordered the other day, can’t wait to get it!!). This is her star necklace. These are her pointed boots which she wore to Le Diplomate as well and I have them irl and they are legit my favorite shoes I own and always make me feel sexy hence them giving Kenzie that feeling too. Here’s the short-sleeved button-down Duncan puts on in the morning; summer clothes from here on out for awhile, babes. I had to put The Chain in this part; I’m a die-hard Fleetwood Mac/Stevie Nicks fan. A reminder that the MASTERPOST wants you to reblog it and pass it around because I won’t be loading the fic up on AO3 until it’s totally finished, which...I don’t know how long that’ll take? Maybe a few more weeks, maybe a month, maybe longer. Still not entirely sure where this story is ending, I figure I’ll know when I get there. The Shepherd mansion (that is, Annette’s mansion) is some kind of cross between this mansion and this one in my mind. The chairs in the dressing room look like this. To my beloved Duckenzies: @impiorumrequies, @hi-ilovedamien, @nat-de-lioncourt, @ladywriter94, @leiwya, @icouldrun, @killcort, @starscavengers, @carousallie, the list goes on--I love you more than words can express. THANK YOU.

“I would like for you, Mackenzie, to do a few interviews with us next week.” Kenzie refocused on Duncan’s mother; her thoughts had been full of Duncan’s eyes (sky and storm) since he had gazed at her so lovingly and pushed something into her; wrapped his love around me, like a blanket made of softest gold, that’s what it felt like, and I pushed it out of me and onto Annette and then her face fell and she looked so confused and then she softened...the anger in her eyes towards me dissolved and now her eyes look the way I think they probably looked when she was a girl, a girl who wanted something else; wanted to be loved, wanted to love. A wave of affection for Duncan had crashed into Kenzie, and she couldn’t help but gaze over to him with fierce devotion; you are my Prince, most beloved to me, and you are exalted in my eyes and my body and my soul. The thought had fallen, soft as a sheer curtain, over her sight and her mind, as if it were something she’d read in a book somewhere and forgotten; and she had stared at him and flowers had bloomed in her thoughts to behold him; and the moment had extended, spread out far beyond itself, and she had felt the weight of time and the depth of his love for her again and she was lost in it for a little while.

“It’s important...that if you and Duncan are going to be...together...you understand your new responsibilities as a part of the public face of Shepherd Unlimited.” Annette spoke with a strange slowness, as if something was holding her back, and Kenzie couldn’t decide if it was the heavy energy that now hovered in the room (something that passed between Duncan and I, I don’t understand what it was, but it had some kind of power) or Annette’s own inability to say what she was truly thinking or feeling. Or her inability to accept the idea of them, truly together. Whatever the reason, Kenzie looked away from her; she found Annette terribly beautiful, but Duncan’s mother had a strange coldness that raised the hairs on Kenzie’s neck, drained the blood from her fingers. As Annette spoke, she seemed to gain momentum, falling back into her clipped cadence. “That will include making public appearances with us and coordinated communication with the press. I’m sure Duncan has mentioned this, but I expect you to come to the house tomorrow to do a fitting for the Gala. Everything has to be carefully planned, it’s the most important public event of the year for the organization. From now on, you’ll be expected to present yourself publicly with physical, verbal, and behavioral sophistication. Duncan himself has been a poor example of that lately.”

Kenzie looked back across the table to Duncan; his eyes betrayed none of his discomfort, but she felt his annoyance, drifting in dark colors: To hell with sophistication, keeping her safe is what I care about. If she isn’t happy, nothing else matters. His thoughts fell over her with fierce warmth; Kenzie felt as though she could drink them, swallow them, absorb them, feel them as though his fingers were all over her.

“Mackenzie, do you understand me?” Annette took another long drink from her wine glass, eyes hovering across the table at Kenzie.

“I...yes, Annette. I think so.”

“That article published today was an opposition to the company. I expect you to turn down editorials of that nature in the future.”

Kenzie was silent, pressing her lips together. No, I don’t think so. I’m going to write about what I feel strongly about. Or why write at all.

The waiter returned at that moment, mercifully, and Kenzie breathed a silent, internal sigh of relief. She had the distinct feeling that Annette not only did not tolerate being lied to, but that she was preternaturally skilled at sniffing out said lies; that she could pinpoint them with precision and yank them out of a person. Better to lapse into silence than to lie to her, I think. Annette ordered foie gras; Duncan ordered lobster. Kenzie looked down the menu, lost; she hadn’t even contemplated food under Annette’s steely gaze, and it seemed to be in a foreign language, suddenly.

“I think you’d love the risotto, Kenzie,” Duncan said to her gently. She nodded to him gratefully and said “I’ll have that.” Thanks baby. Affection washed over her again and he gave her a little smile. Baby, you’re doing so good. Just a little bit longer and we’ll be done. Soon, we can escape. Annette ordered another bottle of wine; the one she’d had on the table when they’d come in was already half empty. Duncan’s mother tipped it carefully into Kenzie’s wine glass, filling it about a third of the way, and pushed the stem closer to Kenzie, pointedly. Then, she poured another glass for Duncan.

“To the continued success of Shepherd Unlimited and our dynasty.” Annette raised her glass and nodded to both of them with stern expectation. Duncan raised his and nodded at Kenzie a little; she brought hers up with a timid hand and Annette clinked against it with a sharp tap. Kenzie drank a small sip of the wine; hope it isn’t poisoned, she thought wildly, watching Annette drink from her glass again, eyes skirting over to Duncan taking a deep gulp of his, as if he were terribly thirsty and it was water. Duncan looks so beautiful. But he always does. His hair fell over his forehead, perfect waves down the sides, falling behind his ears. The velvet blazer gave him an almost royal appearance; like his throne was sitting in some vast chamber somewhere, waiting for him. His straight nose and full lips were like a statue carved by a master sculptor; he seemed too lovely to her to be real, I don’t think I’ll ever stop thinking that, feeling that way, like he’d been molded from the first human clay and every piece of come after had been slightly less. He pressed one long hand against the side of the stubble at his cheek; I want to bury my fingers in that stubble, I want to breathe it deeply into my senses, impossibly intense blue eyes carefully switching between the two women sitting in front of him, warily at Annette, with aching affection at Kenzie, then back again.

“I am capable of putting my differences with Madeline aside if you can conduct yourself appropriately,” Annette spoke again. Her gaze slid between her son and Kenzie; she seemed to regard their obvious adoration with a mixture of disdain and incredulousness; she can see how much he loves me, and it’s upsetting her, Kenzie thought. Well, Annette, get fucking used to it.

“Do you think you can do that?”

Annette stared at her, hands around her wine glass, head cocked slightly, her eyes like dark pools. This woman is like a very dark well, Kenzie thought. And I don’t know how far down the bottom of the well is. I think it might be a very long well, and very, very dark. But she loves Duncan. I can tell. I don’t know if the love is the kind of love I know, the kind I feel for those I care for; her love is different, I think. But I do think, in his case, it’s real love, in her fashion.

“I’ll do my best, Annette.”

“Your best must be as close to perfect as you can possibly make it, dear. Or else you will not last long in our world. Steel your mind, Mackenzie. You no longer have the luxury of living anonymously. To be part of this family, however long that may be, you accept the scrutiny and criticism of the nation.”

Kenzie bit her lip, clutching her hands together in her lap. “I can handle it.”

Duncan’s eyes flickered over her, bright with intensely warm emotion. So brave, so brave, she heard him think. ....your strength around you like gold...oh, Kenzie…

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Annette replied, and Duncan said, immediately, “She can, Mom. She’s one of the bravest people I’ve ever known. She’s amazing.”

“You sound drunk already, Duncan,” Annette rolled her eyes, her expression annoyed.

“Today someone got up into her office and tried to attack her,” Duncan said, his tone going dark as he looked at his mother. “They said something about the Shepherds taking everything away from them, so they were going to take something away from the Shepherds. I hired her a bodyguard yesterday, thank god--he’s the only reason she wasn’t injured. Being thrown into our world can’t be easy, and yet she was the one who insisted we still come to dinner tonight, Mom. I was contemplating cancelling on you. Already Kenzie has proven she is more than capable of navigating this world and has the resolve it takes to weather whatever comes her way. And she deserves your respect.”

Annette was silent and looked down; there was a flicker over her features; “I didn’t know about that,” she said, carefully. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Mackenzie.”

“I’m okay,” Kenzie said, fighting to keep the trembling edge she felt out of her voice. The truth was she didn’t feel very okay at all; the incident at One Franklin Square had terrified her and Kenzie longed for nothing more than the dinner to be over and to be held in Duncan’s arms in the safety and quiet of their bed with the rain falling against the window. Sweet Fates, hurry us on to that place, through this storm, through this rain, through this difficulty, she thought, looking into his eyes, fighting the bubbling emotion that threatened her again, feeling crushed and laid bare by the beauty of his face and the love in his eyes. She wanted to tell him what had happened in her own words with her own mouth and then she wanted him to press his mouth with aching need into her body and tangle the black sheets into symbols of their passion and their love and their devotion and press his fingers into her mouth and against her throat and down between her legs, where they belong my love, where you belong, pressed against me. I want to be alone with you my love and I don’t want to be here anymore. But Kenzie knew that this was part of the test; the test of knowing if she could indeed suffer a lifetime of Annette Shepherd; if she could put her love before her exhaustion and help Duncan in this way. And so she said again, “I’m okay. I would do anything for Duncan. I will do anything.”

“God, but you do remind me of Madeline.” Annette shook her head, as if to clear away her disorientation.

Two waiters came in then with their dinner; Kenzie’s risotto was delicious, savory and sweet, and she sent warm, grateful thoughts across the table toward Duncan again; he smiled at her and she was struck with another ache to hold him, to touch him; she watched his fingers stretch out at the side of his salad fork, towards her; he tapped them a little every now and then, and she could feel his impatience, his restlessness, his aching need for her. She wondered if Annette garnered strange delight from keeping them apart like this, even across a table; Duncan’s mother seemed like the kind of person who never did anything on accident, everything, every movement and inflection and gesture, ever-calculated. She’s trying to exert her will over him, Kenzie thought. Show him that she still owns him even though he belongs to me now and his desires have changed and she wants to pretend like she can’t see it but she can and that’s what made her so disoriented. She didn’t expect to see love in his eyes when he looks at me, because she hasn’t seen it there before, not like this. But she saw it. And now she knows. Now, she can’t pretend it isn’t real, or that he’s infatuated, or what he feels is only lust. Even Annette can’t deny that Duncan Shepherd fucking loves me. He loves me. He loves me.

Kenzie couldn’t help it; she smiled at Annette, and Annette returned it, but very small, a smile that did not extend to her eyes. You think you’re going to be able to control me now, Kenzie thought. But you won’t be able to. Duncan is going to change your company. He’s going to change everything, and I’m going to help him. We’re going to take all of Shepherd Unlimited and we’re going to give its riches to people who need them and we’re going to create beautiful things and we’re going to help people and you won’t be able to stop us. I know it, deep in my bones. Kenzie turned her eyes to Duncan and he was watching her with intense concentration, a morsel of lobster paused in his fork in midair, halfway to his mouth; as if he had heard everything she’d been thinking and was struck with it, as if her could see her drawing him a map that was invisible to Annette even though she was sitting directly in front of them, and the luminous smile in his eyes filled her with a depth of glowing energy that felt like sunlight on her skin. Yes baby. Yes, we will.

-------

It was well past 10 when Annette finally released them; by then, Kenzie felt as though her body was in physical pain, such was the depth of her desire for Duncan to hold her. I thought yesterday had been long, she thought, but today was almost unbearable. Annette had insisted on discussing endless details of the most recent episode of Duncan’s show, and he answered her in clipped, short sentences. Every now and then she shot Kenzie a suspicious look and seemed to change the way she was about to say something; she thinks she can’t trust me, and she’s not necessarily wrong, Kenzie thought. Finally, Duncan had come around the table and helped her out of the seat on Annette’s left side; relief flooded her at the warm, smooth feeling of his large hand grasping around her fingers; “It’s time for us to go, Kenzie had a very long day today, Mom.” “I expect you at noon sharp, Mackenzie,” Annette had said, her eyes flashing at Kenzie with a dismissive shimmer; Duncan leaned forward and she inclined a sharp cheekbone for him to kiss. Then, Duncan pulled Kenzie out of the room with a pointed determination, leaving his mother there to her own devices; Kenzie followed behind him, dizziness washing over her in a wave as they stepped out of the cocoon of the secluded room and back into the warmer light of the restaurant, and then out to the polished foyer. She could hear the rain falling against the windows; Duncan had pulled out his phone with his other hand and was texting Samuel, then he looked at her with a terrible softness (those eyes, my love, those blue eyes) and tucked the phone back into the inner pocket of his velvet blazer, his fingers coming up to her cheek, their warmth sending a flutter of sensation down her skin.

“Baby, you did so fucking good,” he whispered down to her mouth, and Kenzie sighed at the sound of his voice, her body flooding with the relief of his touch. “God, I wanted to touch you so much, that was agony. You are so brave and I’m so proud of you, Kenzie--”

“I wanted to touch you too, baby, Duncan, I wanted to so much--” Kenzie pulled him down into her roughly by the lapels of his velvet jacket, his full lips crashing against hers with a deep heat, her hands going into his hair, those waves like fading autumn and Duncan’s hands fell down to the small of her back, pressing her tightly into him, the desperation in his touch filling her with coiled hunger, her hips grinding against his thighs. The doorman and the people at the reception desk nearby carefully ignored them; Kenzie felt grateful towards them. Four hours with Annette Shepherd unable to touch each other and I think we’ve earned this. Duncan’s phone sounded; “Come on, Samuel’s here,” he breathed into her and his breath was sweet with wine and the chocolate mousse they’d had for dessert and Kenzie heard the tiny moan that escaped from her lips as he pulled away from her, such was her need for him. “Come on baby,” Duncan said again, pulling her gently through the door, “let’s go home.”

In the shadowed backseat of the BMW Kenzie folded close against him, her shoes kicked off and her legs tucked under her; Duncan’s arm was around her and her head was in the crook of his chest, her face pressed into his smooth shirt, and Duncan was looking down at his phone; emails. “I messaged Ben today,” he murmured to her, softly, tucking his phone away, as Etta James floated towards them from the stereo again (I want a Sunday kind of love...a love to last past Saturday night...and I’d like to know...it’s more than love at first sight...), “I want you to sit in on the interview, baby, okay?” Kenzie smiled despite how tired she felt; “I’m sure Ben will love that.” “It doesn’t matter what he thinks of it, because I’m not doing it if you aren’t there.” Kenzie nodded; she looked at Duncan in the dappled color of the neon lights they passed and was struck again by how beautiful he was; feeling shy suddenly, her affection tumbling out of her, unable to be contained: “Duncan, you look so handsome right now.” He turned his head to her, smiling, and she saw the shyness in it; in him. “And you look so lovely, baby.” That he felt shy before her, too, made her heart clench. Kenzie pulled her phone out of the little clutch on the seat beside her; she opened the Instagram app on her phone as Duncan said “Baby, what are you doing...”

“I think it’s time we took a selfie together, baby,” she said, matter-of-factly. Kenzie lifted the phone above them and reversed the camera so it faced them; she looked up into it, her eyes bright and wide under her dark eyeshadow and carefully applied mascara, her head still tucked under Duncan’s arm, and he inclined his head down to her, pressing his nose gently against her hair, closing his eyes. Kenzie snapped a picture; Samuel had been driving through the glow of downtown still, and the lights had fallen over them in pink, blue and gold; over Duncan’s cheek and Kenzie’s forehead, giving the picture a haunting luminescence. Kenzie brought the picture up to her eyes--it stopped her heart, the peaceful expression on his profile, the glittering aspect of her gaze, the lights falling over them.

“We look so good together, baby--” Duncan whispered into her ear, and his lips fell into the small space below; Kenzie gasping at the sweetness of the sensation, “--you are so fucking beautiful.” Kenzie sighed into his lips, pressing closer to him as she typed: The longest day, the greatest love. She hit Share with a satisfied smile. “You always look fucking beautiful,” she argued, her voice soft. “No, you fucking do,” Duncan murmured as his lips fell down her neck, his fingers threading through her hair. “You do angel, you do…”

Kenzie was aching for him, her body pulsing with need, but she hadn’t really told him what had happened that day, and she longed to; the burden of it was pressing into her heart, and she felt as though the weight of it was crushing her. “Baby, I...wanted to tell you what happened today.” Duncan lifted his head up immediately, leaning back to look at her, his face serious. He looked over her shoulder; “We’re home, baby,” he said, and Kenzie glanced behind her to see Samuel had pulled up to the high-rise. Finally. Samuel handed the roses to Duncan carefully as they got out of the car; there were no paps anywhere, and the rain was stopping again, the thunder moving off far into the distance and a barely-there drizzle fading away, the sky finally clear. The moon had returned though it was again barely a sliver in the sky; it hung there over the building as Kenzie looked up at it, an omen of the new cycle that had begun in earnest now; my new life has begun, and my life of anonymity is gone, she thought, the echo of Annette’s words falling down. Duncan carried the flowers carefully beside her as they moved upstairs; Anchaly gave him a nod, then looked at Kenzie with a smile; “you look lovely, Miss Stone, I trust whatever was distressing you earlier has been taken care of,” and Kenzie smiled back at him, nodding. Anchaly had a new book now; it was The Year of Magical Thinking, by Joan Didion. “Yes, I’m better now, thanks, Anchaly.”

In the elevator they stared at each other, Duncan’s hands full of roses, Kenzie’s hand reaching out to tuck around his arm. “Before the man got upstairs, there had been some other people who had tried to get up, reporters from a magazine or something, I’m not really sure,” she started. “But the security downstairs caught them before they got to the elevators. The other guy was faster, I guess, and he didn’t really look like paparazzi--I don’t think he was.” The elevator slid open quietly and Kenzie used her key to open the penthouse door; Duncan continued to listen to her, quietly, as he opened the cupboard under the sink and brought out a Waterford vase for her roses, which had begun to wilt a little; fitting, because that’s how I feel too, Kenzie thought. Kenzie took the vase gently from his arms and brought it over to the coffee table alongside the low leather couch; the roses immediately threw their brilliant color against the juxtaposition of light and shadows there, one of the reading lamps switched on by the housekeepers. Kenzie looked down at them, emotion washing over her again. Then she turned to him and folded herself into him and Duncan kissed her hair and closed his eyes. “He had really wild eyes, I remember that. Like he was lost. But Harris had just gone to the bathroom...he was only away from me for a minute, I swear. The man comes up to my desk and he’s in a big overcoat and shaggy hair and he smelled...strange, sort of like gasoline. He grabbed my wrist with this terrible grip--” at that Kenzie looked down at her wrist and for the first time that day noticed a small purplish bruise that had begun to form there, Duncan reaching down delicately to examine it, bringing his lips down to her skin; “and he hisses into my face, looking right into my eyes. He said “There you are. I saw you on the videos. The Shepherds took everything away from me, so now I’m gonna take something away from the Shepherds.””

“God, baby.”

“He starts dragging me and Precious sees him but she’s too far away, she’s down at the other side of the office, and he’s so strong it feels like he’s going to snap my wrist and rip my hand out of my arm and I’m trying to get out of it but--but he’s just too fucking strong.” Kenzie felt tears in the back of her throat; she turned, pushing her hair to the side. “Unzip me, baby,” she said, and felt Duncan’s warm, long fingers between her shoulders, gently pulling the zipper down, his face pressing into her hair. Kenzie reached for his hand and then she pulled him, slowly, softly, into their bedroom (ours) and pushed the dress off her shoulders, stepping out of it, her hands coming up behind her to unclasp her bra and she could feel Duncan hovering there, close, but it was as if he was afraid to touch her. She turned and looked at him for a moment; he was still fully clothed and absolutely regal in his velvet blazer and she shivered, vulnerable; she pressed against him in just her panties now, his arms coming around the softness of her bare skin, and cradling her with his body, so much larger and so warm. “Harris comes out of the bathroom--” Kenzie continued, feeling able now that he was holding her again, “--and he sees this man pulling on me and I look at him and I scream help Harris help me and he goes up to this man and he hits him right in the throat under the chin with the flat of his hand and...the man just crumples like he’s made of paper.” Kenzie drifted her hands down the soft velvet of Duncan’s arms and turned her eyes up to him; his expression a dagger into her heart, his eyes dark with the memory of the fear she had seen there when he’d run out of the elevator and to her desk, his face white, his body shaking as she fell into his arms. “I just sort of stood there in shock for awhile, by the time I felt like I started breathing again I realized Harris was holding me up and my knees were buckling and he picked me up like I was a doll and set me in my desk chair and I just...I just burst into tears…”

“Oh Kenzie, oh, baby, oh no…” Duncan’s lips came down and kissed her eyelids, first one, then the other, his mouth came down and kissed the tip of her nose and then her cheeks, one at a time, and then her mouth, kissed her mouth with aching supplication and Kenzie thought that’s enough, I’m done and I don’t want to talk about it anymore tonight, I just want you to kiss me, kiss me everywhere, kiss me forever, and Kenzie whispered “Duncan,” into his mouth and she turned away from him to the lamp beside the bed and switched it off and they were bathed in darkness, the low light from the living room spilling through the doorway for a moment; “Shut the door, baby,” she whispered, and Duncan obeyed, turning and pressing it closed, and now they were in darkness entire, but for the low glow of the city somewhere far away through the window. “Your eyes look like gold,” he said to her, and he threw his blazer onto the floor (that’s right baby, abandon everything except for us) and moaned softly into her as her hands came up to unbutton his shirt, pulled his belt out with aching ease, unbuttoned his pants and pushed them away. “And yours look like blue fire,” she replied, up into his lips, pulling him down to her as she fell back onto the bed. He hovered above her and she could just see the outline of his hair over his eyes, the shape of his jaw, the shadow of his stubble, the soft shape of his lips, open and his stare falling down over her, and Kenzie loved the darkness because in that moment it felt like it was holding them, shielding them truly from the eyes of the world, creating a secret place where they could hide and all other thought could fade and only the two of them existed, in this place. His lips came down to her nipple and sucked with urgency, fingers coming around to push her breast into his mouth, and she shivered as his hair fell against her collarbone, a whisper of his love, and her hands went down his back, nails digging in and leaving red trails that were lost in the shadows, her legs coming around him, crossing at his back, pressing her sex up into his groin where she could feel the hardness of his cock through the two thin layers of fabric that covered them there. Duncan continued to suck, swirling his tongue over the hardness of her nipple again and again, then moved to the other breast and worked at it carefully, his free hand drifting down to the waistband of her panties and toying with it carefully in his thumb and index finger, pressing into her hip bone, but not moving them further down, not yet.

“I think my mother liked to try to keep us apart tonight,” he whispered against her between sucking on her, the tickle of his breath against the wetness he’d left on her making Kenzie’s eyes flutter. Duncan’s musky-wood smell was falling over her in the darkness and it made her heart beat wildly up into where his lips were devouring her, and she was dizzy with the strength of her senses, the presence of him in the absence of sight. “She wanted us to not be able to touch each other, but she failed, because I’m going to touch you everywhere now, I’m going to touch you until you’re written into my skin like a tattoo that can never be erased, I’m going to kiss you a thousand times, baby, kiss you until I’ve memorized every inch of you...”

Kenzie was murmuring before she even realized it herself; a low hum of yes, baby, yes, mhmm, yes, fuck, the feeling of his mouth on her in the darkness kindling a fire low in her body that made her want to writhe, and she was pulling his face up to her to taste him, breathlessly connected, and her hand fell down his ribs to his hip bone and into his briefs where she wrapped her fist around his cock--it was achingly hard, thrilling her again, sending a shiver down her body and he arched into her, moaning into her mouth as she pushed the fabric off him, cradling his ass in her hands for a moment, dragging her nails down to his thighs as she pushed the underwear off him and he said “Oh fuck, baby, that feels fucking good--” and then he yanked her panties down with one terribly strong hand and Kenzie’s heart stopped for a moment with the force of it, gasping as his index finger pressed harshly between her legs, into her clit, his mouth hovering over hers again; if she’d been standing her legs would have buckled instantly, instead, her legs keened back, lifting her sex up towards his hand, up so her ass fell against his thighs with a low slap, and she uttered another little moaning cry into him, her fist still clutching his erection and his hardness was sending currents of energy through her core, her cunt convulsing for a moment in anticipation. Duncan seemed to feel this current under his fingers flush against her; he let out a pitiful groan into her cheek, and she felt his cock convulse under her fingers.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispered, his blue eyes staring down into hers in the dark, penitent, devoted, and the outline of his expression in the deep shadows one of aching adulation, and it made Kenzie feel as though he was whispering a prayer into her, a prayer of worship, a prayer to her only and always, a priest to her, and a prayer so fervent it made him most beloved in her eyes. “I’ll do anything you want to you, I’ll let you do anything to me, fucking anything. Tell me, angel.”

“I want your lips on me and I want mine on you, baby, I wanna suck your gorgeous cock while you eat me,” Kenzie whispered, and she moved from underneath him, pushing his arms gently so he lifted away from her, following her carefully, completely supplicant to her direction; Kenzie pushed him down into the pillows now, his head falling into their softness, his long form stretched out underneath her, and she straddled him for a moment, staring down at him. Her eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness and she could still see that aching devotion falling down the beautiful contour of his face; he reminded her of a Renaissance painting, a man who also seemed unlike a man in that he was so radiantly graceful and sublime, a higher form of man, an ideal of the ecstasy of human imagining. How are you mine, she thought again, dumbstruck and shivering, and his hands came up to cup at her breasts, and she pressed a finger down between his lips and he sucked at her skin, her thumb grazing down his stubble. Kenzie moved back a little, moved until she felt the hardness of his cock brush up the sensitive, wet space between her legs; Duncan moaned into her finger, closing his eyes; those eyes, low blue flame, a constant candle lit for her and her alone.

“Am I your angel, baby,” Kenzie asked, her body thrilling at the feeling of his length flush against her pussy and ass, her cunt twinging again, the spasm of the muscles there sending a thrill of demanding need through her thighs. She let her sex press into him that way for a long, aching moment, knowing it must be as intense and terrible for him as it was for her, relishing the intensity, pressed against his need.

“Fuck, Kenzie, yes, you’re my angel, you are the only one,” he said into her fingers, and her hand fell down to clutch around his adam’s apple, desirous for more, a longer prayer, a deeper worship, a worship from his mouth into the core of her being, and she squeezed a little, her nails pressing into his skin, and he gasped. Kenzie’s mind filled with heat, her senses suddenly feeling like scalding water overflowing, and she raised her little palm and brought it down against his cheek with a snap, the little slap startling her ears and his eyes flashed at her in the dark and Kenzie said “Worship me with your mouth now, baby,” and he said “Yes, baby, come here,” and she knew he was commanding her--the slap and her hand at his throat seemed to have kindled an animalistic rush in him--and her need to be filled was bleeding into a need to do what he wanted now, and she was lost in the clash of her desires as he gripped her thighs and carefully pushed her down so he could turn her at the hips (god he’s so fucking strong, his hands could rip the life out of me, drag me down into oblivion, my Hades dragging me down with his beautiful, terrible hands, down into the depths to be devoured by him entirely devoured this way devoured in his aching lips), flipping her carefully but with an ease that made her heart jump into her throat; suddenly her back was facing him, her legs slipping down to straddle on either side of his chest under his arms, his cock pressing between her breasts now, and he yanked her up, demanding, to his face, so her cunt hovered just below his lips and his cock was brushing against her jaw; he pulled her into his mouth and Kenzie cried out, whimpering helplessly as his tongue immediately pressed into her clit, terribly warm and dripping wet, and her head fell and she drooled onto the head of his cock; she felt her eyes roll back into her head as he ate at her, and Kenzie steeled herself and opened her mouth and took his hard cock (fuck he’s fucking big when I look at him this way fuck he’s huge) into her and carefully pressed down, her tongue working against his length, and she felt him shuddering under her as his tongue probed into her soaking wet cunt and back to her clit again, focused there with a precise, deft rhythm; Kenzie opened her throat, willing herself not to gag as she took his whole length into her for a moment, then worked herself back up carefully. She could feel her thighs shuddering, the feeling of his mouth shattering her desire for control; it was bleeding out into a desire to give him terrible, transcendent pleasure--in this moment, Kenzie felt gold waves of emotion falling from the top of his head down into her body; I want you, only you, only you and always, always to be pressed into you this way, only to worship you, only to feel your mouth, only to feel you, you belong to me and I am yours entirely and there is nothing without you, there is void in your absence, that is all I know for certain, I wanna fuck you until I am lost in you and I become you and you are me and together we are something else, I wanna fuck you endlessly and so hard and so deeply and so often--

Kenzie moved her mouth up and down, working her hand at the base of his cock, her tongue swirling at the sensitive hole at the smooth head of his length; her saliva dripped down from her lips, down the shaft of him, and she moved her hand up and down and the sound of the wetness sucked in her ears as she moved her head again, faster for a moment and then with aching slowness, and Duncan moaned against her, against the swollen lips of her cunt, swollen with his attentions, swollen with terrible want. “Fuck baby, you taste so fucking good, god, your mouth feels so fucking good, fuck, I can’t--oh, fuck--Kenzie, fuck, baby, gonna--” Kenzie could hear the tremble under his words, the edge, and she dipped her head down further so the head of his cock pressed into the back of her throat and she felt his tongue lave out and press harshly into her clit, press there with wanton concentration as his hot come spurted into her mouth and she swallowed, once, twice, the taste of him salty and thick, her eyes going hazy as she felt the edge of her orgasm cresting down between her hips; she pulled back and up so she was sitting on his mouth, her ass at his nose, and pressed her hands into his torso, the taste of his come coating the inside of her mouth, and she looked up at the ceiling, dark with shadow, and his hands were on her thighs pressing her down onto him and Kenzie cried out as her orgasm forced itself roughly down through the center of her and bright flames burned behind her sight, filling the blackness of the room with intense light as she lost herself in his devoted prayer, the most ecstatic of prayers, his mouth and his tongue rushing every bit of her out into him in that moment, extending her helplessly into oblivious exaltation.

“Kenzie, baby, oh, baby, Kenzie--” Duncan’s hands were pulling her softly down, murmuring her name with aching softness, and Kenzie felt like she was coming back from a far distance to his arms; back from the brink of of edge of the universe, and she was sliding off him and she was beside him now, her head falling onto the pillow, hair falling across her cheek, close to his face, his arms clutching her with fervency, as if he couldn’t stand the sudden cease of the closeness of their orgasms; she pressed into him, her leg coming over his thigh, and he kissed her and the taste of her sex filled her own mouth as he did, and her tongue came against his and Kenzie thought I could die, I love him so, I could die right now and this would be enough for me, how can I bear this, how can I bear how much I love him, it’s so much, it fucking hurts, it aches.

“Duncan, I love you. I love you so much. I wish there were other words--”

“Shhh, baby. No. I know. I have to ask you something,” and his mouth was at her forehead, his hands threading her hair, his fingers pressing to the sides of her face; Kenzie could feel the weight of his cock, going soft, pressing into her stomach, and the thin film of sweat on his skin against her, and his eyes seemed almost white in this light, ethereal in post-coitus. “Do you feel like...sometimes...you can hear what I’m thinking? I know...I know it sounds crazy--”

“Yes, baby. Yes. I heard you tonight, I think, when we were with your mother--it’s not the first time, but I...I thought I heard you think that I was so brave, brave and that my strength was like gold, and, before that...you looked at me and it felt like you pushed something into me, you pushed you love and your faith into me and it spread around us--”

Duncan was nodding into her--“Yes,” he was whispering, “yes, baby, yes, I didn’t imagine it, yes, that happened, yes, you can hear me, you heard me, you felt it too,”--and she could feel the smile on him, though she could barely see it; his body felt as though it was smiling, a coiled joy in him as he pressed more deeply into her, his hands falling down her waist to clutch her hips into him and his hips ground against her and she sighed; a sigh that was more like a cry, and tears came instantly into her eyes, tears at the intensity of her orgasm and at the intensity of what had just passed between them; the realization that they had both experienced that energy tonight, that they had both heard each other’s thoughts, somehow, madly, impossibly, and yet somehow possible, and the wildness of this revelation stopped her heart; sweat broke out instantly on her skin and she was filled with terrible longing for him again, in a sharp wave that crashed into the center of her chest.

“How--” and Duncan was kissing her again, his mind falling into her and it felt like a thousand pinpricks of light that had burst into brilliance under his skin, in the lining of his soul; how, how, how, but the how suddenly meant nothing; the only thing that mattered was the understanding, the reality, the knowing, and Kenzie wondered if she willed it enough, if she wanted it, if she could hear him now--she focused on the feeling passing between them, the connection of their mouths pressed together, the salty sweetness of his skin, the musky smell of him that fell over her in bursts, the aching strength of him pressing into her, the soft cascade of his hair as she pushed her fingers through it, in the dark; I don’t need to see him with my eyes to see him, to truly see him, the low blue glow of him, the radiance of his beauty. I think I could see him, really see him, at the very end of time. I think I could pick him out of a million other souls and know him, instantly. And then she did hear him; heard the tenderness under every beat of it, and she felt lost in him, like he was pressing his lips onto the deepest, most secret part of her: Kenzie, I think I’ve always known you, I think we knew each other in some other time and in some other place, and I think we were together then, and I think it’s destiny that we found each other again, and I think no matter what happens someday we will find each other again, because that’s our Fate; that’s what they wove for us, when time began, they wove our souls together and it cannot be changed and we cannot be long parted from each other and we will always find each other again, because they will It--and their will is the way of things. You are my One, the only One, until the end of all things. Mackenzie. I love you. I love you. I love you…

Kenzie pressed into him, pulling him gently so he was on top of her now, their mouths still crashing against each other as these thoughts, his thoughts, and she knew they truly were this time, fell into her like a waterfall, like a rainstorm, and Kenzie’s hand came down to his cock again and slid up and down as he grew hard and she lifted her hips up onto his thighs and slid down onto him, her cunt slick with release, and they gasped into each other, his hands buried in the golden cascade of her hair and clutching her hip so she was pressed flush into him and this way, us together, it’s the only thing, she pushed the thought into him and she knew he didn’t need to speak, knew he heard her, his eyes staring into hers then closing, overwhelmed, and Duncan nodded into the bridge of her nose, his hair falling against her eyelashes, yes, the only thing, the only thing, to be here with you, beloved of all, most beloved, my love. He pressed into her, then out with aching slowness, then began to ride into her with a measured, building rhythm; his hand came down from her hair and Duncan brought his fingers up to his mouth to suck them carefully, not breaking the tide of his concentration as his length pressed into her with wild urgency, and brought them, slick with his spit, into her swollen clit, still, already, aching with wetness from his mouth; his other hand came up from her hip to press into the center of her chest, between her breasts, as if to hold her heart; as if to feel its luxuriant pounding through the tips of his fingers; his thighs pressed down into her, forcing her legs wide, and he was so hard Kenzie ached; ached with the knowledge of him. Their minds came together again, for a moment, from spinning around each other; the intensity, the intimacy of the touch--of our souls, she thought to him, and into her he pressed another thought--our bodies and our souls, Kenzie, for both of mine are yours.

“You’re gonna come,” she breathed into him, her mouth pressing into his nose, pressing against his eyes, which fluttered closed against her; “and I’m gonna come at the same time, okay, baby?” She arched up into his hand, the feeling of his fingers making her want to scream, making her hips grind up, making her want him inside her always.

“Okay, Kenzie, baby, okay…” Duncan’s eyes stared into her, needy, aching--and then he let out a little whine into her that seemed involuntary--a little cry that seemed to echo out from the center of his being, and Kenzie said “Shhh, baby, I know--” “Kenzie, how, I found you, somehow I found you, fuck me, I fucking found you--” “Fuck me, baby, fuck me,” Kenzie demanded, her eyes rolling back as the sensation of his fingers rushed her up to the edge, “Fuck me like that, fuck me hard like that, give me your hard cock, baby--” and Duncan pressed into her with such force that she felt the scream building at the back of her throat--”I’m going to--come--”

At that moment Kenzie felt herself slip down over the edge of her orgasm; felt it cascade up through her, from the ends of Duncan’s fingers deep up inside her where his cock was buried in her, and at the same time her cunt clenched down onto him with ravenous need and her scream, completely overcome and tinged with a sob, rattled out of her--and then she felt Duncan press his mouth into her neck to stifle the strangled scream that came from his own throat, and he came deep inside her and they clung to each other, convulsing, trembling, and Kenzie could feel the hot wetness of his tears falling into her hair and against her skin where his face was buried against her ear and she felt the sob of his body as her own hot tears coursed down her cheeks and her arms clutched around his back and her sex spasmed again and again against his length, sending dizzying shocks up her body. Kenzie brought her hand to his cheek and her heart spasmed painfully at the wetness there; in the darkness she could see the glowing white-blue of his eyes again, now overcome by his orgasm and the emotion that had fallen out of him with it--Duncan Shepherd, her prince, so soft and pliant and vulnerable in her arms, and she gathered his sweetness in this moment against her and knew she would remember it always; Kenzie knew that she would look back on his tears in her hair on this night; knew that if she ever doubted at all that he loved her, she would look back to this night, the tender color of him as he clung to her and know that he did; know that he always would, would because it was their destiny to love each other, through every shade of time.

------

Later, after their tears had dried, Kenzie lay against him with her head in that space under his arm; her space, and Duncan’s hand threaded through her hair behind her, lazily, absently, her leg crooked over his thigh, one of her hands on his belly with his hand hovering above, his pinky crooked against her thumb; they were silent, the only sounds coming from the faraway drift of the night outside, and Kenzie couldn’t hear any of his thoughts now; couldn’t perceive their shape, knew that they were hazy with the weight of his orgasms, hazy with tiredness, hazy with the depth of the emotion they had shared, and she felt sure hers were hazy in the same way, that he couldn’t see them; she was on Duncan’s side of the bed (somehow she knew this inherently; that she would always sleep on the other side, but tonight they hadn’t moved from the way they’d fallen post-coitus) and had switched on the lamp there, on the lowest setting; the bronze light fell over them as they stared up at the ceiling, and seeing him now, after the sensation of him bathed in darkness, struck her with wonder; to see you that way, and then this way.

“I think we can only hear thoughts when...when whatever is happening is really intense,” she murmured into his cheek, and Duncan sighed into her, closing his eyes; “I think you’re right,” he said, hand coming from her hair to hold her at the incline of her arm above the crook of her elbow, press her naked torso into his hip. “Kenzie, I can’t believe it...it’s so incredible…I never believed in anything like this before now. I never believed in things I couldn’t perceive with my own eyes. Now...I do believe. I believe in all of it, now. To be near you is to believe.”

“You think of me so tenderly,” Kenzie whispered, looking up at him. “It takes my breath away.”

Duncan’s eyes were still closed, as if he was afraid to look at her; “I love you so much, Kenzie. I don’t have words for it. It...scares me. But it’s the most amazing...the most moving thing I’ve ever felt...” Kenzie’s eyes fell over his wildly beautiful face; like this, he was like an aspect of the Pieta, or some aching divinity; to be loved by him shatters my soul into a thousand pieces, each one raw with sensitivity, each one alive with so much feeling I can barely stand it.

“I love you too, Duncan. Please tell me you felt it from me.”

He nodded; his eyes opened and they were shining with tears again. “I did. I do. And I heard those thoughts towards my mother from you, baby--I heard you--that we’ll help people and create beautiful things--and we will, I promise we will, I love you so.”

Kenzie sat up and pressed a kiss into him, and smiled; “Oh, Duncan.”

“With you beside me, Mackenzie, I promise we will make everything I have--everything we have--into something beautiful. Baby, I swear.” He brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing along her fingers, making low heat coil in her belly.

“Duncan, we can make so many people happy. As happy as this. As happy as we are,” she said, and then Kenzie suddenly pressed the tips of her fingers into Duncan’s torso, unable to keep her smile at bay, dancing them along his skin, all of her joy spilling out of her; a peal of laughter burst out of him and Duncan jerked to the side to get away from her tickles, and then he pulled her down onto him and rained kisses between her breasts and Kenzie thought more joy is coming and our love will make us brave and so bright and our love will bring light to others and she knew, in the deepest part of her soul, that it was true.

------

When Kenzie woke the sun was shining down onto the bed (it’s summer, she thought, we should go to the beach soon, I’d love that, kissing him in the sand with the blue ocean stretched out before us) and Duncan was (wonderfully, blessedly) still sleeping quietly beside her. They’d slept naked (like that first night, Kenzie’s thoughts drifted, sleepily, eyes roving over his saintly face, the delicate incline of his eyelashes, the pout of his lips, whatever dream she’d had instantly forgotten, that first night where my heart was shattered by you and you kissed my ankles and said god, you taste good and I fucked you wearing that necklace that had taken me so long to save the money for and when you woke you hovered over me again, desirous, and I knew it hadn’t been a dream, and I knew I’d be content to always be in your bed, a bed we’ve now made ours from our passion), and Kenzie could feel the delicate press of his fingers against her hip, their bodies turned towards each other, Duncan’s curls falling over the pillow. She pressed her toes into the incline of the top of his ankle, down his foot and up again, where she could feel the hairs on his smooth, long leg, and pressed toward him, hungry for his heat. Kenzie lifted her face up into Duncan’s neck, sending little kisses down from the incline of his jaw to his adam’s apple and the elegant fall of his collarbones; Duncan let out a little pliant sigh, his big hand coming up from her hip to clutch her against him, immediately needy; she marveled again at the way it seemed to cover so much of her body, wherever it touched her; she felt enveloped under his hands, cradled in his colossal embrace. Kenzie felt the hardness between his legs press between hers (fuck, he always has an erection in the morning, ugh, fuck me baby) and the musky smell of him fell through her (he smells like sex, like the woods after warm rain) and he said “Kenzie,” and she thought like a prayer, he says my name so lovingly, “what time is it, baby.”

“Only after 8.” The smell of him was making her dizzy, making her cunt pulse down towards where she felt his cock pressing to the inside of her thigh; Duncan’s eyes opened to stare at her, and Kenzie breathed out a little, wondering if she’d ever not feel frozen with the intensity of his gaze. “We can sleep for hours still if we want to, baby...”

Duncan kissed her gently, just once, sleep still clinging to his eyes; Kenzie brought her hand up to brush the bits of skin that had gathered at the corners of them away with one careful finger, admiring the hairs along his jaw and the straight fall of his nose, the dusting of tiny beauty marks along his left cheek. His eyes were open still, half-closed with the remnants of the sleep he’d just left; and he said “You were an angel in the dream I was having,” and his eyes fluttered, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, one of his hands coming up between her shoulder blades, one falling down to clutch, fingers spreading, over her ass cheek.

“Oh really. An angel, huh?” She pressed more kisses into his chest; into the bones of his shoulders, still marveling at his smell. Duncan was nodding into her, greedily; pressing her mouth up into his, his fingers tightening around her skin, speaking between their lips; “Yes. You had wings and a halo that looked like it was made of stars...of starlight. I was...I don’t know who I was. I was dark. I was something dark. And you put your arms around me and I was full of light and relief. Your touch was...healing. It healed me. You were divine, baby. You are divine.”

“You aren’t dark, Duncan. You aren’t.”

“Kenzie...I’ve done...there are things I’ve done that--”

“Shhhh. They don’t matter now. We’re together. You aren’t dark. You aren’t.”

His tongue was in her mouth and she was shifting up onto him in the soft morning light, on the incline of his hips against the trail of hair on his abdomen that led to his groin, pushing herself up from the center of his chest so the lips of her vulva were pressing down into the upper side of his morning wood, and he moaned into her; “I’m never gonna stop wanting to fuck you, Kenzie,” and she said “Good, baby, because you’re gonna fuck me again right now,” and she lifted her hips and pushed herself down onto his thick erection so she was straddling his thighs and Kenzie whined as he filled her, “god, baby, you’re so fucking hard,” and he groaned a little, as if trying to steel himself against the intensity of the sensation, and Kenzie put two fingers in her mouth and rolled them along her tongue; saliva dripped from them as she brought them out and pressed them against her clit and worked at herself, hard and immediate, as she rolled her hips on him, his shaft totally buried inside her so she could feel the knobbed surface of his balls against the bottom of her ass, feel him throb deep inside her, filling her so much she wondered if he’d tear her apart; it made her shudder and throw her head back, and she watched his eyes, hazy with sleep a moment ago, go wide and roll back as she rode his aching cock.

“We all have darkness in us--” Kenzie breathed down at him as she moved her hips and rubbed at her clit, building a tantric cadence with her body, “--but you have so much good and so much loveliness in you, baby, and it was there before we met, I know it--”; Duncan’s hands came up, one pressing to her breast and kneading at her nipple, hard now in her arousal, the other at the small of her back, his nails digging into her skin there, as if to chain her against him; “Don’t stop, baby, god you feel like fucking heaven, fuck me,” and his voice begged, she could hear the edge in it, the need; she smiled, and he gazed up at her, his expression rapturous; that beautiful face, that gorgeous face, like a God, like Hades to his beloved Persephone, like Dionysus beholding Ariadne, like Apollo, most fair, smitten with Daphne, or Eros folding Psyche into his arms: just for me, when he looks at me that way. It’s only for me, and I know it. I can feel it. That gaze is for me and me alone, for I am most beloved among all to him.

“Kenzie, angel,” he breathed, and she watched his eyes flutter with the wave of his release rising, the intensity of the softness and wetness and tightness between her legs; god I love to see him in the light, she thought, I want to stare at him all fucking day, I want to drink him like wine. Her sex ached; ached with their fucking from the night before, ached with need for him now, ached so wonderfully that she thought she might faint from it, the intensity of the want there coiling like a spring that would cut and maim when it broke forth; “let me, baby, please, let me touch you,” he whispered, and she lifted her fingers from her clit to let the large, warm pad of his index finger flush itself against the bud of nerves between her legs, her hand falling down over his palm to grip at his wrist, holding him there--”There, that’s better, baby,” he murmured, “God, I can’t wait to get that fucking mirror,” and she nodded and said “You wanna watch yourself fuck me, huh, baby,” and he said “Fuck yes, I wanna watch myself fuck you, Kenzie, angel baby, fucking goddess,” and she laughed a little, and her laugh seemed to stir his desire further and she felt his length spasm inside her and his other hand came up from her breast and around her neck and she gasped a little “Fucking yes, baby,” and he squeezed, the pressure of his fingers constricting the air from her lungs and Kenzie’s heart pounded harshly in the center of her, and her sex twinged under his fingers and then he was pressing his hips up into her and moaning her name as he came, “Kenzie, angel, Kenzie, baby--” and she whimpered as he hand went tighter for a moment, tight enough to make her gasp longer, harder, fuck yes, baby, I love your hand there, forcing me down onto you this way, she knew he heard, and then she came under his hands, came and knew that as she did, he saw the halo around her head as she hovered over him in the sunlight; the halo he’d seen in his dream.

------

“Baby, I was thinking--” Duncan said as she sat at the black obsidian island in the kitchen, in the Marie Laveau tee shirt, staring down at her phone in one hand (Instagram; the comments on the photo of them together were absolutely wild and it had wracked up over 35,000 likes; Claire had already sent her several links to websites gushing about the photo, including one from BPF.com: DUNCAN SHEPHERD AND GIRLFRIEND MACKENZIE STONE POST FIRST SELFIE TOGETHER ON INSTAGRAM; LEGIONS OF FANS COIN NICKNAME “DUCKENZIE”), hair over her shoulder, a spoon poised in her other hand over the bowl of granola with blueberries and blackberries he’d given her, to her delight--”We own a cabin around Deep Creek Lake...it’s about a three hour drive from the city, and it’s...well, it’s a very large cabin, very secluded. Sometimes my Uncle BIll and my mother still use it for private parties, mostly. We used to go there more often when I was young, but it’s been about two years since the last time I stayed there. I was thinking...we could go there and stay for a few days. After the Gala. We could get away from the paps and my mother and everything...all of this. It’s so beautiful there and there are deer sometimes and I think--”

“Yes, baby, fucking yes,” Kenzie cut him off. “Dunny, I would fucking love that.” She couldn’t stop the grin that broke over her face as he turned to her, his blue eyes smiling down at her incredulously, the espresso he’d just made her in his hand. “Dunny, huh? That’s a new one.” He brought it over to her (he was in black sweats again, his torso bare) and she leaned up as his face came down to her; his kiss tasted like bitter coffee and sweet berries and him, all of him, and she sighed into him, gently pulling the copper espresso cup from his hand, her fingers trailing over his languidly.

“That’s what I wanna call you, baby,” She grinned again. “Dunnybunny.” She laughed. Duncan snorted, his face breaking out into a smirk that became a snorting laugh of his own. “I can’t wait to see my mother’s face when you call me that in her presence.”

“Oh, I definitely will, in that case. Not much will make your mother like me less than she already does, so I have nothing to lose.”

“She does like you, though. She can’t help it. The way she kept mentioning that you look like Madeline; that was her way of showing you affection. How could anyone not like you, baby?” His fingers came across the island as he leaned down onto it, trailing down her arm, her wrist, her hand; Kenzie’s phone lay just beyond her fingertips; Duncan glanced at it, noticing the Instagram photo open on it, eyes falling over the hundreds of thousands of likes. “Everyone loves you. And they should.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she smiled up at him, toying with the ends of his fingers, feeling her cheeks blush. Duncan smiled again as he turned away to make another espresso, this one for himself. “Yes, Miss Stone, whatever you say, Miss Stone.”

“Ugh, no, don’t,” and she stood and ran over to him and threw her arms around his back, burying her face in his skin, hair falling in her eyes. “Don’t call me that. Call me baby. Call me Kenzie. Call me angel.”

“Fuck,” and he turned around so she was looking up into his eyes and he said “Kenzie, I will call you angel a thousand times a day if you want me to, anything you want belongs to you now, just say it, just tell me what it is and it’s yours, okay? I mean it. Anything, baby. When’s your birthday, anyway?”

“July 17th. Anchaly told me you’re a Cancer too, so yours must be close to mine.” Kenzie’s arms still gripped Duncan’s hips, and his hand had come around to that soft spot under her ear, down into her hair, the tangles of sleep brushed out. “July 6th,” he answered, pressing his lips into her forehead as she stood there barefoot, feeling tiny in his embrace again, wildly vulnerable and soft and small. “My mother always insists on having a huge party...invites a hundred people, all politicians and celebrities, god, I always hate it, but this year--this year I’ll love it because you’ll be there.” “Mmhmm, of course I will, baby...but I have no idea what to do for a present--what do I get for the man who has everything?” She grinned up at him.

“I do have everything. Now, I truly do, baby. Now the party will always be for you, too. Oh, Kenzie, I love that. I love that our birthdays are close.” He pushed his fingers gently along her cheek, his arm around her shoulder; the tenderness in his voice made her heart shake. “Kenzie, I love you so much, being with you is like--like I’m fucking high as a kite all the time, wonderfully drunk--” he pressed his lips down onto her cheek, along to her ear, and Kenzie shivered, her body arching up into him, unable to stop herself. “That cabin sounds so wonderful, baby,” Kenzie said, trying to break the spell that had begun to weave between them again--she’d have to get ready to go to the Shepherd mansion soon, it wouldn’t do to arrive disheveled in front of Annette Shepherd from fucking her son on the table. But I do want him to fuck me on the table, Kenzie realized. We haven’t fucked on the table--not this one or that fucking beautiful cherrywood table in the other room--I want him to lay me down on it and fuck my fucking brains out standing. “To get away from everything like that sounds so perfect, everything has just been so insane…”

Duncan pulled away from her, nodding. “That’s why I thought of it. I don’t want you to get...overwhelmed. The paps are enough to drive anyone insane, but they hound this family like wolves at raw meat, ever since my grandfather became one of the richest men in America back in the 70’s. And the way they’re acting around you scares me. I want you to be safe and happy more than anything, baby. And it’ll be just the two of us. Just us.” His hand fell against her lips, probing gently. Kenzie opened her mouth a little to let his finger in, tongue swirling over it, her eyes lifted to his and she could see the heated desire coiled there again, could see the shape of the thoughts drifting inside him; he’s thinking about getting a hook for the ceiling in our bedroom, a hook to hang velvet rope, rope to tie me up and fuck me standing while we watch each other in a gilded mirror and I fall down onto his face as he eats me on his knees and he’s thinking about using that plug on me and then fucking my ass himself, fucking me hard in the ass with his big cock and coming inside me there, and her senses tingled and vibrated with the onslaught of these thoughts. Fuck, baby. Fuck, yes. She sucked at his finger as his thoughts crashed against her, and his eyes went bright with his arousal--blue like the summer sky drifting outside these windows, all my little plants hanging along it now, resting on the spotless sill--Kenzie was sure she had never wanted a man so much in her life as much as she wanted Duncan; she wanted every part of him, every secret, every shadow, every crevice and contour of him memorized, every inch explored, and the desire for him seemed to grow rather than dissipate every time they fucked, every time they came close together as if their minds were linked (but they are, we can each other’s fucking thoughts sometimes), every time he made her come with his mouth and his hands and his hard cock. The thought of exploring each other for days, sheltered by woods and a lake and the quiet of nature, with no one to tell them where to be and no one to take photos of them and no one to stare at them or scold them or probe them for details made her ache; god, that couldn’t come soon enough. But there was so much still to get through, first. Ugh.

“I should get ready to go to your mother’s house, baby,” Kenzie whispered, with regret. Duncan was leaning down to her again, his nose brushing against hers, his mouth hovering just above hers, his breath shallow, his thumb wet with her spit, now trailing along her bottom lip. “But I heard that. And the answer is yes.”

“Fuck, Kenzie.” He pushed his mouth onto hers and she returned his aching kiss for a moment, then pulled back and spoke into him, hearing his breath go ragged.

“While I’m with your mother, you should do some shopping. For us.”

“Uh huh, Kenzie. Yes, baby.”

She slid out of his grasp; Duncan groaned in frustration, and Kenzie could see the flush of his skin, looking at him over her shoulder as she stepped towards the bedroom. Her hip ran into the edge of the island, not looking where she was going; she blushed, wincing, and Duncan bit his lip, looking down at the floor and then back up at her, shyly. Kenzie saw the vulnerability in his gaze at her having heard those thoughts, raw and carnal and full of hedonistic want of her; but they had sent a thrill through her, one that made her think of the colossal painting that stretched across his study again; The Youth of Bacchus, the pleasures of the flesh, my body and your body, baby, together, where they belong.

“Wanna come watch me get dressed, baby?”

“Ugh, yes,” Duncan groaned, and came after her as she ran towards the bedroom, past the dark red roses on the coffee table, laughing.

------

Most of Kenzie’s clothes were still on the rolling clothing rack she’d used in her old apartment; the clothes that had been in her sun-and-moon dresser still stacked neatly in large boxes. Duncan had, somewhat shyly, asked if he could put all her things away for her--while she was busy with Annette--in the drawers on the right side of the walk-in closet; “I’m going to move the things I have in there out; it’s your side now.” “Are you kidding, baby, it’s my dream for someone else to do my laundry for me. You can put my clothes away every damn day. You can be my personal stylist,” and she clutched him around the waist for a moment, pressing against him, and he smiled down at her. “You’ll have one of those for real very soon, baby,” he replied. “Annette insists, for all public events. Also--now that I’m thinking of it--I have a service deliver groceries here several times a week. If you write down everything you think we need and give it to Anchaly in the morning, it’s here at night. It’s safer--and especially after that incident yesterday, baby, I think you shouldn’t go out alone for things like that. Harris should be with you if you need to go shopping for any reason. You should use the card I gave you to order anything you need online as much as you want to; Anchaly signs for packages, too.”

Kenzie frowned a little, leaning away from him, going over to her hanging rack and pulling out a black collared sweater with short sleeves, throwing it on its hanger on the bed. She leaned over one of the boxes that littered the corner, finding the high-waisted mini skirt she was looking for; it was black too, with gold buttons down the front. She pulled the Marie Laveau shirt off, standing there in just her underwear for a moment; as she pulled the skirt up, wiggling it over her hips, she avoided Duncan’s gaze from where he stood standing at the door of the walk-in closet, leaning against it, eyes focused on her; she couldn’t hear him right now, but knew anyway that he was looking at her with both affectionate concern and desire.

“Kenzie. I understand your frustration, baby. I do.”

Kenzie breathed out, leaning over another box, finding a strapless tan-colored bra, snapping it over her arms and pulling the cups over her little breasts (she’d remembered reading somewhere that for fittings a strapless bra should be worn), and then she turned to him, in just her bra and skirt, the frown still creasing over her face. I can’t help it, she thought. This sucks. “It just...makes me fucking sad, baby,” she said, tucking a golden-tawny wave behind her ear, reaching for the shirt she’d tossed on the bed. Duncan came over to where she stood; he slid onto the bedspread, grasping her hand before she could pull it away, crossing his legs, pulling her gently down to him. “Like I’ve given up a part of me...one that could go to the grocery store and just...get groceries. Fuck.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry it’s like this.”

She knelt on the bedspread, mussed from their passion and their sleep, looking at him; the bareness of his shoulders and the fall of his hair and his expression of remorse, blue eyes burning, oh, those eyes; then she pressed her arms around his neck, and Duncan put his face into her hair and pulled her into his lap, breathing her in.

“I know it’s not your fault, baby,” she murmured. “I just...I can’t believe...in just a week...so much can change. Everything. You know?”

“Baby, I know. Everything is different now. It feels strange to me too--everything I thought I wanted for the company...it was really something my uncle wants-- something my mother wants. I want something else. I want what you said, what you thought across that table when you looked at my mother--to bring other people happiness like this.”

Kenzie nodded into his neck, her body filling with sweet affection for him, a golden cascade of love--to choose your light over your darkness takes courage, my dearest love, and I am so proud of you, so proud to know you and love you in this moment, was the thought she pushed into him, and his arms tightened around her and she felt the emotion in the way he moved his head against her, felt the tremor in him, overcome with her admonition. You aren’t dark. You’ve chosen to be something else. That’s what matters.

Kenzie heard her phone trumpet from the kitchen island where she’d left it; she glanced over at the silver alarm clock on Duncan’s side of the bed and noticed it was 11:30 exactly. “Baby, I think I have to go soon,” she whispered into him and Duncan sighed. “I wish we could just stay home together, today,” he murmured into her.

“Me too, baby. But tomorrow we can. Tomorrow we have the whole day to ourselves. Maybe I can finally put all my things away.” She kissed him and Duncan closed his eyes; “Or we can just fuck all day, baby,” he said into her mouth, and Kenzie grinned into him, shivering. “I’m curious how many times I can make you come in a row--” And she wiggled out of his arms teasingly as he said this, loving the hungry look in his eyes. “Get that mirror and that hook,” she said, staring at him for a long moment, “and we can test that theory,” then, Kenzie went back over to the boxes in the corner, pulling out a pair of black socks, slipping them on her feet. Duncan watched the incline of her leg, letting out another soft little moan, almost involuntary; then he climbed off the bed and went to the walk-in closet, pushing his sweatpants down as he did, kicking them off, still looking over his shoulder into her eyes as his cock came free of its constraints, not quite erect, but not soft either; in that between state of arousal and anticipation; he slowly moved his hand down to it, gripping its shaft for a moment, leaning against the doorway, eyes falling up and down her body in the little sweater and mini skirt, his mouth open just a little, and Kenzie bit her lip. “Bad boy,” she whispered. “I’m gonna punish you later.” He grinned at her and went into the closet. Kenzie passed by to get her phone from the kitchen and couldn’t help but glance to him undressed, his back turned to her now; his wide shoulders extending down to his round ass and thick thighs, the fine hairs on his legs visible in the warm light of the closet. Beloved. Like the statue of David. I really do wish we could stay in bed all day, worshiping each other. If we ever get tired of fucking, it won’t be anytime soon.

Kenzie reached for her phone as she reached the island, looking down at the text.

Samuel: Miss Mackenzie, ready when you are.

Harris had today off; Kenzie supposed it wasn’t necessary to have him at the Shepherd mansion (there was no chance of paps being there; there was heavy security around the clock), though, she thought, it would have been nice to have his large presence beside her, in case Annette tries to poison me, only half-facetiously, biting her lip. On my way down in 5, she replied. Thanks Samuel. Kenzie went back to the bedroom, stopping in the doorway of the walk-in closet; Duncan was mostly dressed now, in tailored black slacks and a short-sleeved button down; “I don’t think I’ve seen you in short sleeves yet, baby,” she said softly, coming up to him as he did the top button, facing her; glancing up at her. “You look nice. You always look nice. But I like you in short sleeves. You look more...relaxed, or something.”

“I’m pretty sure naked is the most relaxed state you’ve seen me in, Kenzie,” he said, eyes in hers, his radiantly beautiful smile making her shy again. “Also, the short sleeves are for practical reasons--the high today is 81.” Kenzie turned to where several pairs of her shoes were lined against the floor; she hadn’t had time to organize these yet either, but she picked out her long black pointed boots, leaning against the drawers as she pulled them on under Duncan’s watchful eye; he was switching between buckling on his black Movado and staring at her legs again as they vanished under the black velvety fabric of the boots; they always made her feel pretty when she wore them, and she felt like she could use all the help she could get if Annette was going to be breathing down her neck for a few hours. “Samuel’s waiting for me downstairs, baby,” she said, looking up at him, straightening, clutching her phone in one hand, reaching for him with the other; he grasped her arm, stepping forward, and leaned down into her, and his heady, musk-wood smell fell over her again, dizzying and deep. “I’ll text you when I’m done with your mom, okay?”

“Okay, baby. Thank you for doing this. But remember what I said, if you don’t like what she wants you to wear, you don’t have to wear it. Erik is reasonable, he’ll understand.”

Kenzie reached over to where some of her jewelry was lined on the accessory shelf built into the side (her side) of the closet; she slipped the long necklace with tiny gold star charms on it around her neck; it dangled to her stomach, and she flipped her hair back over her shoulders, placing her hands on her hips. “How do I look, baby.”

“Like my Kenzie. Like a fucking angel.”

“Can you see my halo and wings still?”

“Always.”

She blushed; ugh, this fucking Prince. Fuck me, pressing her face up to kiss him again, then dancing away as he tried to grab her closer--”You are too fucking good at that,” he said after her, his eyes like deep ocean, and she giggled as she snatched the little convertible bag from where she’d left it by the wall in the living room, dipping down to smell the roses on the table, their evocative sweetness floating up at her; she glanced towards where she knew his bust of Nike was on the left side of the Bouguereau prints, and spoke a silent prayer for a day that wasn’t rife with the stresses of yesterday; spoke a silent prayer that in Annette Shepherd’s presence, she would be fearless and calm. Duncan followed her out, barefoot; he watched her go to the door and pull it open, and she said, “Wish me luck, baby.”

“You don’t need luck, Kenzie. You are beloved of the gods.”

She stared at him, puzzled; she could feel the small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “That’s a funny thing to say, Duncan.” He came up to her, hands falling through her hair with adamant affection, before she could slip away from him again. “It’s true. I said it because it’s true. I feel it. Destiny. Our destiny. This wasn’t luck. It was destiny. It is our destiny.”

The doubt slipped from her mind; the confusion melted. “It really is, isn’t it.”

“Yes. It really is.” He kissed her fiercely again; his mouth bruising into hers; touching in thin tendrils down to her stomach. She pressed into him for a moment, suddenly possessed by her sadness at leaving him; then pulled away softly and stepped into the hall.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, baby.”

“Mhm, Kenzie. I love you.”

“And I, your Persephone, love you.”

“Oh, baby--”

Kenzie ran away from him down the hall to the elevator, which magically, somehow, opened for her before she even pressed the button. She turned as the doors slid shut, and he was leaning against the frame of the penthouse entrance, arm clutching the lintel, eyes on her, and she knew he was thinking of flowers in her hair again, petals floating down and leaving a secret trail behind her as she descended back to earth.

-----

Samuel had his foot on the gas of the BMW as soon as Kenzie slid into the backseat; she’d taken more time than she thought upstairs (your son was distracting me, Annette) and it was fifteen till the hour. Today he was listening to Fleetwood Mac; Kenzie clapped her hands together, delighted; listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise--”Samuel, can you turn it up?” She saw Samuel’s very white grin at her in the rearview, and watched his hand reach out to the knob on the Harman Kardon sound system; Stevie and Lindsey’s voices crashed into her on either side as if they were in the backseat with her.

“And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again, I can still hear you sayin’, you would never break the chain--” Samuel had the windows down and the wind whipped her hair across her cheek and neck, and Kenzie thought of Duncan’s hands and his blue gaze and his mouth and his hair on his forehead and the stubble on his cheeks and his height towering over her but his looks of longing into her eyes and toyed with the little stars on her necklace, feeling them carefully, singing along softly to herself. We can hear each other’s thoughts sometimes. A week ago I would have thought current me had lost her fucking mind. But I know it’s real. How can it be real? I don’t fucking know. But it is.

“Miss Mackenzie, your voice is so beautiful,” Samuel said, glancing up at her, the smile still at his mouth. “You should have been a singer, like Ms. Nicks.”

“Thank you, Samuel. To be compared to Stevie is the highest of compliments.”

“Just so.”

Chain, keep up together...Chain, keep us together…

As Samuel pulled up to the gate of the Shepherd mansion, Kenzie’s stomach did a backflip and she floated away from the strains of Christine’s high, cheerful voice: you, you make loving fun, it’s all I wanna do--Holy fuck, Kenzie thought. This is huge even for a mansion. She could see the tall Colonial-style windows over the gate, the Roman pillars extending in the doorway, a balcony above. I need to remember Duncan’s family is one of the richest in the country. Fuck. Am I ever gonna get used to this? Samuel spoke into the intercom (“Mackenzie Stone here to see Annette Shepherd,”) and the gate buzzed open. Kenzie glanced down at her phone; it was five till. She silently thanked Samuel’s magical powers of speed again. Samuel pulled up around the curving driveway to the entrance; vast double doors seemed to stare down at her with hostile judgement. Kenz, you got this. Remember the way Duncan pushed his love into you last night. The way you gathered it and moved it and made it more. You can gather it that way again, just remember that feeling. Be brave like Momby.

Kenzie breathed out, thanked Samuel (and silently, Stevie) and stepped out of the car, boots clicking on the smooth, tasteful cobble of the driveway, looking up at the house, bag slung over her shoulder, phone clutched in her palm. It was sunny and beautiful today; it was truly beginning to feel like summer. Kenzie breathed in deeply and let it out again; don’t let her get to you, no matter what she says, Kenzie. Momby wouldn’t. Duncan wouldn’t. Don’t do it.

She waved a little at Samuel before she shut the door; “I’ll text you when I’m done, is that okay, Samuel?” “Of course, Miss Mackenzie. See you later.” She turned away as it clicked shut, steeling herself again for a moment, then going up the three wide, smooth white steps to the double doors, both with opulent knobs made of embossed gold; she hesitated, unsure of the etiquette; do I knock? Kenzie reached out and turned one of the knobs, apprehensively, peeking her head slowly into the interior of the house. Inside, it was as opulent a place as she had ever seen; if Duncan’s penthouse was spotless, you could eat a steak off the floor of the foyer of this house; Kenzie felt immediately far too ordinary to be here; too flawed, too insecure, and far too human. She toyed with the idea of running out, waving Samuel down and speeding off. But that, of course, was impossible.

A woman came towards her, beckoning sternly. She was very tall (probably taller than Duncan, Kenzie thought, reminded of Harris) and had hair so blonde it was almost white; it was pulled back into a very tight bun that looked painful to Kenzie, and her face was done up with carefully-applied, subdued makeup, her thin, nude-lipsticked lips pressed together tightly. She wore a very tight, very neat pantsuit in dark gray with low black kitten heels, and she looked very strong, with wide shoulders and hips. “Mackenzie Stone, come here.” Her voice had a slight accent, one that Kenzie couldn’t place. Danish? Swedish? “I am Ingrid. They are in the South Wing.” Kenzie jumped inside, pulling the big door shut behind her; the foyer was eerily quiet but for a huge grandfather clock swinging in one corner. Ingrid beckoning with a short motion again; “Come, now, thank you.”

Kenzie stepped quickly behind the woman, who moved very fast and almost noiselessly; I bet this woman could kill someone easily without ever getting caught, Kenzie thought with a chill. I guess Annette needs people like that around her. Ingrid led her around the right side of the curving double staircase, down a hallway hidden behind it, towards the far end of the mansion; if Duncan has one Bouguereau original, I can’t even contemplate how many of these are authentic, Kenzie thought, gazing around at the paintings that adorned the walls (they seemed to mostly be a mixture of Impressionist and Modern art--but there’s nothing here as beautiful as The Youth of Bacchus, she thought, it’s the most beautiful painting I have ever seen, and my boyfriend OWNS it), the sconces and shelves that held Ming vases and sculptures and china and embossed books. Ingrid turned a corner sharply, then opened a long white door (another embossed gold knob) to a round, wide parlor room, modified to look like a dressing room, with a round dais in the center and several mannequins along one wall, a few very beautiful Regent-style white-and-gold armchairs littered here and there; Kenzie saw Annette stretched languidly in one of them, dressed in a flawless cream-colored wrap dress with a black sash tied at her waist, her perfectly styled hair falling down her shoulder, her expression hidden by the angle, and a man with a very bright floral scarf, a shiny bald head and very long false eyelashes standing with a hip cocked facing the doorway, gesturing at her flamboyantly and telling a story, animatedly.

“--I said honey-bun, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck I’m going to do, I tell you what the fuck I’m going to do, then you give me the time I need to fucking do it.” The man cocked his head, batting his lashes. Annette let out a little barking laugh. “Needless to say, I--” The man broke off, noticing Ingrid at the door, and Kenzie hovering behind her.

Annette glanced back. “Oh. Mackenzie. You’re actually on time.”

Uhhhhh. Kenzie’s hands came up to the star necklace, noticing her hand was trembling. What would have happened if I wasn’t?

“Thank you, Ingrid, you can shut the door.”

Ingrid gave Annette a curt nod, and gave Kenzie a long glance as she left, her eyes going from Kenzie’s feet up her body to her hair around her shoulders and down again, a judging glint in her cold eyes. Yep, you got it, I’m fucking Duncan, you’re right, Kenzie thought. Stare away, make sure I have the right genetics and the birthing hips and my boobs are the right size. I wonder what Annette will say when she hears I don’t want to have kids, ha! The door shut behind the woman with a loud, clean click, and the man in the eyelashes came toward Kenzie, pressing his hands theatrically to his cheeks.

“My, my, my, what a little cupcake you are.” He reached for her hands and Kenzie extended her palms into his, her cheeks burning with apprehension. “A little rose petal, a babydoll blooming bud, a teensy slice of delectable red velvet. I’ll bet he’s been nibbling at you night and day.”

“Erik, that’s enough,” Annette said, and Kenzie glanced over to her to see an expression of sharp annoyance in her eyes; whatever mirth may have been on Annette’s face a moment ago was gone, replaced with a calculating neutrality.

“Lord, Annette, as if you can’t see why he’s absolutely head-over-heels.” Erik rolled his eyes, letting Kenzie go, giving her a little wink that Annette couldn’t see from where she sat. Kenzie pressed her lips together tightly, trying not to smile. I like him. “She’s like a tiny little princess in a fairy tale. Snow White. Rose Red. Princess Peach. I’m Erik, sweet thing. And you’re Mackenzie. And this is Annette--oh, you knew that, of course.” Erik turned to Annette, giving her a long look and a coy smile.

“Mackenzie, come here, we have a lot of work to do and I have a meeting at 3,” Annette said to her curtly, standing up and beckoning to the dais. “Erik needs to take your measurements, and then we need to discuss a color palette.”

“I’m thinking mod,” Erik gestured vaguely towards Kenzie’s hips, flicking his wrist. “Like Edie Sedgwick at a Renaissance fair.” Annette made an exasperated noise from the back of her throat as Kenzie came up beside her, heart pounding, and grasped Kenzie’s arm suddenly with a tight, pinching grip, pushing her onto the dais. “Measurements, please, Erik. Mackenzie, hold still.”

Erik spent the next ten minutes or so pressing a measuring tape along Kenzie’s body as she moved as he told her to; Kenzie looked down from Annette’s appraising gaze, which seemed as cold and heavy as ice; she tried to remember the warmth that had spread around the table over dinner last night, but it slipped away from her, just beyond her grasp; without Duncan there, Kenzie felt lost inside her doubt, caught in the approximate, austere eyes of his mother. I doubt those comments from Erik helped warm her heart to me today, Kenzie thought, exasperated. Her stomach felt sour and she contemplated asking for a glass of water, but Annette’s frown deterred her. She remembered Annette didn’t know she’d moved into Duncan’s penthouse yet; oh fuck, she’s really gonna love that one. Annette’s quietness unnerved her--who knew what Duncan’s mother was thinking behind her dark-well eyes. Erik fussed over her, as if to fill the silence between them: “Look at your tiny little hourglass! Those hips, my dear, absolutely to die for. A pity you’re not a little taller, then again, Madeline was never known for her height, was she. How is she these days, by the way?”

“Very well, thanks for asking.” Kenzie’s eyes slid to Annette, who raised her eyebrows, then back to Erik, who was pressing the measuring tape along her bust with careful precision; he had clearly done this a thousand times before her, and his interest in her breasts was completely non-existent beyond the practicality of his duties. “She’s retired now. We had a wonderful time with her the other night.” She looked at Annette again for a moment, seeing the angry flash in the other woman’s eyes; kicking the hornet’s nest, Kenz, she scolded herself, but it was too late; heat was rising behind her temples. I am good enough for your son, Annette. You may never think so, but that doesn’t fucking matter. You’re going to accept me eventually because your son loves me and that’s not going to change. This is our destiny. He said so himself to me. He knows it too. I may not be the trust-fund heiress to an oil company in Texas you would have chosen for him, but I’m the one for him, tough shit.

Erik seemed to have finished his measurements, taking note of them on a little yellow notepad with a fountain pen in his manicured fingers; “Annette, what do you think for colors. I’m thinking black and white with a gold embellishment.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Annette said, her tone biting. She sat in the armchair facing Kenzie, eyes falling down Kenzie’s small form; half-full of resentment, half a simmering superiority.

“Ummmmm,” Erik said, rolling his eyes a little again. “Honey, you’re the one who insisted she do this with you in the first place.” Kenzie gave him a grateful look.

“Mackenzie, I hope you understood how serious I was last night,” Annette said, ignoring Erik. Kenzie bit into the inside of her cheek, willing herself to stay calm. “If you are offered another article in the nature of the one published on Friday, you will turn it down.”

“Annette, with all due respect, I’m a journalist working for a liberal publication. I’m not a Republican, and dating Duncan doesn’t suddenly make me a centrist. Maybe you should ask Duncan what he really wants for the company in the first place, since he’s going to be helping you run it soon.” The words tumbled out of her, and Kenzie immediately bit her lip, fumbling her hands together. Oh fuck, Kenz. What was that.

A cold pallor fell over Annette’s face; it made Kenzie’s blood chill in her veins. Erik’s mouth snapped shut and he raised his eyebrows, a little hiss of air escaping his lips. Annette sat up very straight in the chair, setting her hands on the armrests with her fingers tightly curled. “He told you that, did he,” she hissed.

“Yes. We’re together now. I deserve to know about his life.” Kenzie tried to quell the tremble that had started in her hands; adrenaline pumped through her, making her feel as though she’d just taken a hit of weed. “You seem determined to hate me, Annette, but I don’t hate you at all. I wish you could see that Duncan doesn’t want what you want; that he’s sensitive and good and kind and wants to be surrounded by real things, beautiful things. He just wants to be loved, just wants to love--and we love each other. Why would you try to deny him of that?”

“I don’t have time for this today.” Annette stood, eyes blazing. “Mackenzie, if you speak a word of what Duncan has told you to anyone, I will make sure you seriously regret it. Erik, get her a fucking dress, I don’t give a shit what it looks like. Give her a fucking brown bag to wear for all I care.” She stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.

“Oh, honey, you are Madeline Stone’s daughter, aren’t you?” Erik turned to Kenzie, a grin falling over his features, his long eyelashes batting at her. “She had that coming; and you have nerves of steel.”

“Not really feeling like it at the moment,” Kenzie said, voice audibly shaking. Now that she had started to come down from the adrenaline, she felt woozy and sick.

“So, what do you want to wear?” He pressed a finger to the side of his face.

Kenzie tried to clear her head, her mind frenzied and racing from the exchange with Annette; then, like clouds parting to the sun, she thought of the one friend who had been a constant in her life since they were in middle school; their friendship carrying her through high school and shitty jobs and college and a breakup and her bumpy first year at the Post when her self-doubt had been at an all-time high. Clairebear. Morgan Winthrop.

“My...my best friend Claire. She works for a designer. Morgan Winthrop.”

“Oh, honey, I know Morgan. We go way back. We used to go to Studio 54 together. You want Morgan to make your dress?”

“I--Yes. Yes I do.” Kenzie tossed her head back, pushing her chin out. To hell with this. It’s my life and my relationship and if I have to go to this Gala, I want to wear what I want to wear. The theme is based on me after all. Gold in the darkness. He said it was based on me. That it’s for me. It’s me.

“Darling, I think that’s marvelous.” Erik tucked his head down to her conspiratorially. “I can see why you’d be drawn to Morgan’s aesthetic. And I think she’d know just what to do for you. A little birdy told me Duncan based the theme on you, a little slice of starlight--little golden moonbeam that you are. I’ve never seen him this way. You’ve gotten down under his skin, babydoll. You’re in the soul of him, now.”

“So...you’ll help me?”

“Darling. In a minute. I want to see that boy happy. And Annette does, too. She just needs to realize that. With your help, I have a sneaky suspicion that won’t take as long as one might have thought. You’re a bold little burst of fresh air.”

Kenzie hopped down from the dias, heart pounding, and went to the armchair where she’d placed her convertible bag, pulling her phone in its gold case out, opening her contacts to Clairebear. She hit the call button, raising the phone to her ear. Claire picked up after two rings. “Hello, Kenzie? Is everything okay?”

“Clairebear, I need your help. I need Morgan’s help. I need Morgan to make my dress for the Shepherd Freedom Foundation Gala. And I need it to be the most amazing fucking dress of all time.”

[linzerj]

Golden Gate’s Heroes

(Hey ya’ll it’s that Venom/Ant-Man crossover fic I promised. It’ll have a few more chapters and maybe I’ll even figure out a real plot for it eventually. The AO3 link will be in the notes.)

---

Scott has got to learn to pay attention to schedules. Or maybe he just needs better friends. Actually, no, it’s probably a combination of those two factors that has led him to his current situation.

“Aw, are you sure you can’t come to babysit Cassie? No, I know it’s last minute, but – well, no, I’m sure I’ll figure something else out. Thanks anyway, Mrs. C.” Scott hung up the phone, then put his head in his hands with a groan.

“Are you sure I can’t just come with you, Daddy?” Cassie asked, bringing him out of his funk. “I can just sit in the lobby and play games on my phone. Or I can even sit in the car!”

“No, Peanut, that’s not fair to you,” Scott said, sinking off the couch to sit next to his daughter on the floor. “It’s my fault that I forgot about this big meeting we’re having. But your mom and Paxton are out of town for the week so I can’t just drop you back off, all the usual babysitters and even the emergency babysitters are all busy, and obviously Luis can’t watch you because he’ll be with me, and then Hope and Hank and Janet are out in NYC trying to not kill Tony Stark as they hash out new Accords amendments now that Jan is back, and….” Scott trailed off with a groan.

“I’m eleven now, daddy. I’m almost twelve! Did you know that when you’re twelve, you can legally stay home alone?”

“Oh really?”

“Well, that’s what the teacher said when she was offering everyone who was already twelve to come take a babysitting course!” Cassie beamed. “I’m almost there, just another three months!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if that would fly with Agent Woo, remember him?” They both shuddered overdramatically, before Cassie sighed.

“I know, daddy. Sorry again.”

“And again, not your fault Peanut, that’s all on me.” Scott grabbed his cell phone again and began scrolling through his contacts list. “I mean, I haven’t called everyone yet,” he narrated when Cassie peered over his shoulder. “Maybe we can find someone on this list who I know that can watch you for 2, 3 hours tops.”

And that’s when Scott saw it, a name he forgot he had in his phone, certain he had deleted it or lost it when he got his new cell. They’d hit it off at an interview before he’d had to go to prison for his big heist, and hadn’t really talked at all since then. It was such a long shot, but everyone else in his contacts had either already said no or lived way too far to make it in time or were Avengers that were doing who-knows-what. There were probably other options in his phone, but, well, it never hurt to try, so.

Holding his breath, he called Eddie Brock.

Eddie’s phone rang while he was scrolling through his Facebook feed in a half-asleep daze. Venom perked up a bit at the unknown number – they loved to take over and scare any telemarketers that called, which was why Eddie rarely answered unknown numbers anymore.

But this one looked – not too familiar, but it had a legit San Francisco area code, and something about those last four digits was ringing some sort of distant bells. So with a shrug, Eddie answered.

“H’llo?” he said through a mouth of Fruit Loops.

“Uh, hey, is this uh, is this still Eddie Brock?” the caller asked. Eddie swallowed his food, ignoring Venom as he manifested a head and started munching on the rest of the cereal, and studied the number with a confused glance for a second. The voice sounded sort of familiar, but it was not immediately recognizable, and Eddie wasn’t sure who would have his number that was unsure if it was him – he’d lost most of his old contacts when he’d broken his old phone, but he’d reprogrammed in all the numbers of important people or people he talked to daily, like Anne and his boss.

“Yeeeeah, who is this?” he finally said after realizing that the guy on the other end of the line was probably wondering what the hell was taking him so long to respond.

“I don’t know if you remember me, but uh, this is Scott Lang.”

And that made everything click into place. “Oh! Yeah, the engineer who broke into that CEO’s house and stole all the money that he’d been stealing! Yeah, how you been, dude? You’re out of jail I see – probably been out a while by now, actually, huh. What, uh, what’s up?”

“Okay so, this is going to sound super weird and I know we don’t know each other very well but you seemed like a cool dude and whatever, and even after all that LIFE Foundation stuff you still seem really awesome, but uh, anyway. I’ve got a daughter, right, but I’m an idiot and forgot to get a babysitter for like three hours while I go do this interview for my new business, and all my other regulars are busy because the universe is awful, and uh, if it’s not too much trouble and you’re willing to do it, I was wondering if you could, uh… just… watch her for like, two or three hours? Please?”

Scott rushed this all out in one breath, and it took Eddie a moment to process it. Some dude he’d interviewed once nearly 6 years ago was asking him to babysit his kid? Venom offered no insight to his problem, focusing on slurping up the remnants of their cereal.

“I’ll definitely pay you, too, and when I’m done I’d be totally down to hang out too, I mean, if you wanted to, I mean, oh god what am I even saying-”

“Yeah sure.”

On the other end of the line, Scott paused. “Really?”

“Sure,” Eddie said again, pushing Venom’s annoying face away as they leaned in closer. “I’m free, got nothing better to do, and you sound super stressed out man, and kids aren’t so bad. Plus I still totally respect you for that heist and exposing that scumbag, even if it was a one-time thing or whatever, so. Yeah.”

“Oh thank you thank you! I’ll give you my address, can you get here – ohhh boy, just, whenever you can? I gotta run ASAP man.”

“Not a problem,” Eddie replied, jotting down the address and grabbing his keys. “See you in a bit.”

Eddie, Venom said as Eddie plugged the address into his phone and started down the stairs of his building, what is ‘babysitting’? Why would we sit on a baby?

“Oh, uh, that’s not – we’re not literally sitting on a baby, love. We just go and watch a child, oh gosh how old even is this kid, oh boy. Well uh, we basically make sure she doesn’t die while her parents aren’t home, and then we get paid money for it.”

Hmm. Humans are weird.

---

Eddie arrived about five minutes after getting the call. He may have sped a little bit, but he wasn’t pulled over or anything, so it was fine.

Knocking on the door revealed Scott, dressed in a suit, smoothing down his hair and obviously trying not to look too flustered. “Okay, hi, Eddie, hi, I’m Scott, I’m sure you figured that out,” he said, extending his hand. Eddie took it and shook it briefly as Scott continued on. “So Cassie is pretty chill, man, don’t worry about a thing, there’s chicken nuggets in the fridge for you guys to eat and you can also have whatever else you want, and don’t worry about feeding Charlie Ben-Ant-e – wait – Cassie where’s Charlie Ben-Ant-e?!”

“Uhhhh… I don’t see him Daddy!” Eddie heard a girl call. She appeared in the doorway, and Eddie supposed this must be Cassie. She looked between ten and twelve, which, okay, that was definitely manageable. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine, he usually doesn’t start his routine for a while anyway.”

“Okay so don’t worry about Charlie Ben-Ant-e at all then,” Scott said to Eddie. “Also this is Cassie, Cassie this is Eddie, thank you again for watching her so last minute for me like this man, I really really owe you one, but I gotta go, bye Cassie be good-” Scott kissed his daughter on the head – “thanks again Eddie, I’ll see you in a few hours!” And Scott was off, running down the road to what Eddie supposed was his car. Well, then.

Eddie turned to Cassie who was looking at him intently. “Uh,” he said. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. She was still watching him. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” she said, still studying him, before grinning up at him and asking, “So you interviewed my Daddy before?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, back when, you know, he was arrested and whatever.” Eddie mentally smacked himself. That is probably not what you should say to kids.

But Cassie surprised him. “Yeah, he’s my hero,” she told him. “I think it was good that he tried to get that money back to the people it belonged to, even if he didn’t do it the right way. But he tried! And when I got to see him again after he got out of jail, I got him this trophy to show him how much I loved him!” And she triumphantly held up a cheap trophy.

“World’s Greatest Grandma?” Eddie asked, squinting at the writing on it. Cassie looked at the trophy then giggled.

“Yeah, it was the only one they had left, but now it’s like our secret joke,” she told him.

Eddie I like this child, Venom said, and Eddie couldn’t help but agree.

---

Eddie was cool, Cassie decided, even if she heard him muttering to himself every now and then when he thought she couldn’t hear. Maybe he was like some of her friends from school, who talked to themselves to keep on track or reassure themselves. There was nothing wrong with that, and she didn’t want to make him feel bad about himself by pointing it out.

But he was pretty funny too. He told her stories about being a reporter, and made lots of jokes like her dad, and grinned when he munched down on some chocolate with her. He asked her questions too, about what she liked and wanted to do, and when she said that maybe she would be famous someday he chuckled and said that she should think of all his questions as a practice interview. She wouldn’t mind having him as a babysitter again, she decided.

But that’s when Charlie Ben-Ant-e decided to make an appearance.

Her daddy had named the ant after a drummer whose name allowed for the ant pun of all his favorite ants. This was the same ant that had fooled the FBI when her dad had to help Hope and Mr. Pym stop the Ghost and save Hope’s mom.

Cassie had been told to keep the giant pet ants a secret from her friends, because people didn’t usually like ants anyway, and the giant ants were kind of scary. Cassie thought they were cute and that those people were dummies, but whatever. Her pet ant Ant-ony Junior lived with her and her mom and Jim Paxton, and it had learned to be very good about hiding when she or the grownups had friends over.

But Charlie Ben-Ant-e had not yet learned this. It still liked to stick to its usual routine, which was why her dad only had over his friends who knew he was Ant-Man, or had other people over when Charlie was sleeping.

So, sure, when Scott had left, Charlie hadn’t been around. That wasn’t unusual – lately he’d taken to wandering the backyard, or napping under beds. But of course, he was still a creature of habit, especially when it came to his food, and the meeting seemed to be running a little longer than expected.

So when Cassie went into the kitchen to grab chocolate milk for her and Eddie, she almost jumped when she saw Charlie Ben-Ant-e. He was scuffling at the fridge door, and Cassie rushed over to grab his designated food from the cabinet instead.

“Here, Charlie,” she said, filling his food bowl more than she should have, but hoping it would distract him long enough for her dad to come home and Eddie to leave. She liked Eddie, and she didn’t want this to scare him away. That would suck.

She grabbed the chocolate milk and some cups and ran back into the living room, where Eddie was looking past her toward the kitchen with curiosity.

“I was just feeding Charlie Ben-Ant-e,” Cassie explained before Eddie could ask. “Hopefully he won’t bother us.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie said. “Is he like, your dog? Cat?”

“Uh, yep!” Eddie totally didn’t believe her, but he shrugged and let it go.

So they sat for a while, sipping their chocolate milk and watching Phineas and Ferb reruns, when Charlie Ben-Ant-e decided to scuttle on by and head toward the electronic drum set.

“Uh,” Eddie said, eyes wide as he did a double take. “Uh, what…. is that Charlie Ben-Ant-e?”

Cassie grinned guiltily, and shrugged, trying her best to look innocent. “Maaaaybe…”

Eddie was still watching as the ant put on the headset and started drumming. “Ben-Ant-e,” he repeated, “Ben-Ant-e. Well. That. That explains the name pun, I guess.”

Cassie looked up at him, slightly concerned. “Are you… going to run away? Or call the police? Please don’t,” she added as an afterthought. “He’s really harmless. We trained him to play the drums!”

“I’m more… confused,” Eddie said slowly, eyes still on the ant. “How did – what – like, how does he exist? And no,” Eddie continued, whispering to himself, “we cannot eat it, stop it Vee.”

And Cassie blurted, “I’ll tell you how we have him if you tell me who Vee is that you’re talking too.”

“Uh,” said Eddie, and then her dad decided that this was the time to come home.

“Uh,” said Scott, eyes going from Eddie to Cassie to Charlie Ben-Ant-e back to Cassie then back to Eddie. “Uh.”

“Uh,” Eddie said again. Cassie decided that sometimes grown men were idiots.

“My dad is Ant-Man,” Cassie blurted, because there was too much tension now and she couldn’t stand it.

“Cassie!” her dad hissed, and she guessed he was upset that she told his secret identity. But what else was she supposed to do? Eddie had already seen Charlie Ben-Ant-e, and he wasn’t running off screaming yet, so maybe he could be a friend.

“What? Oh, okay, that’s, okay,” Eddie said. “So, uh, you were at that airport battle during that Avengers thing, that was crazy, I did a report on that, but uh, are you like an official Avenger then?”

“You’re taking this way better than some people, but whyyyyy does that matter?” Scott shot back, recovering from Cassie’s betrayal. Cassie was curious too, but Eddie did say he was a reporter, so maybe it was his natural reporter curiosity.

“Well, uh, um, uh, I don’t know if you heard about the uh, shhh, the whole LIFE Foundation rocket and human testing thing just a few months ago?”

“Yeaaahhhhhh, what does that have to do with anything?”

“So, they, uh, they had actually brought back these alien symbiotes and were experimenting with them using people, and well, uh, oh god Vee, listen one of the aliens may or may not be a friend but you won’t arrest us for that right?”

“Dude I don’t think I have jurisdiction to arrest you anyway, but I mean, like, what is even going on.”

“Oh god,” Eddie said again, and that’s when a weird black slime tentacle thing branched out of his shoulder, which formed a head with white eyes and very sharp teeth.

“Hello,” it said, and Eddie put his head in his hands.

“What the he-e-eck,” Scott said, stumbling backwards.

The black goo thing sprouting from Eddie grinned. “We are Venom,” it – they? – explained.

Cassie thought that Venom looked kind of cute in a weird way, and so she voiced her thoughts. “You’re kinda cute, in a weird way.”

Venom swung its head toward her, a long tongue sticking out of its mouth. “Cute? Eddie, tell the child we are not cute! We strike fear into bad guys!”

“I mean you are kinda cute when you’re just a floating head, Vee,” Eddie said, seeming to have overcome the shock of everything going on. Venom turned back to Eddie with a look of betrayal, and Cassie thought that they must be inside Eddie’s head or something because Eddie rolled his eyes at an unspoken jab and muttered, “yes you are you drama queen.”

“Okay, okay, let’s back up for a minute, yeah?” Scott said, holding up his hands. “Maybe let’s try this again. Hi, I’m Scott Lang, that’s my daughter Cassie, I’m also Ant-Man though that’s usually only when Hank really needs me right now, and we may have used our grow and shrink technology to make a very big ant named Charlie Ben-Ant-e that plays the drums and acted as a decoy for me when I was on house arrest. Your turn.”

Eddie blinked. “Well, uh. I’m Eddie Brock, and this is Venom but I call them Vee, and together we are also Venom. We met after I was disgraced for trying to expose Carlton Drake after Drake’s rocket crashed and brought their race here, and then LIFE was doing all sorts of unethical experiments on symbiotes and humans, but I broke in and we accidentally bonded and then we went out and beat up Drake and another evil symbiote and maybe ate some people at one point, and now we just try and keep to ourselves except for some occasional late night runs where we, uh, well.” Eddie paused, looking at Cassie with what she thinks is concern and nervousness.

“We eat the heads of bad guys,” Venom said plainly, and yeah, Cassie could see why Eddie didn’t want to say that out loud.

“You eat people?!” Scott cried. Eddie winced.

“Only bad guys!” he emphasized. “Plus, look, Vee needs some compound from humans, one that’s especially abundant in brains, in order to live or else they’ll start eating my organs and then we’ll both die and that’s not that fun.”

“Phenethylamine,” Venom added, “is what we need. It is also found in chocolate and there are supplements but they aren’t as good as fresh stuff. It is in many animal brains as well, such as the rats and raccoons and even deer we sometimes eat, but we feel that it is not bad to eat other bad people who would be released from prison, free to hurt more people again.”

“So you’re trying to be a hero too?” Cassie asked.

“Sure, yes, we are,” Eddie and Venom said together, and Cassie found that a little creepy but also super cool.

“Well,” her dad said, “that, uh. Sure is something. What the hell are the odds that two superheroes meet because one asked the other to babysit his daughter?”

“Like zero,” Eddie replied. Then: “Seriously though you won’t tell anyone right?”

Scott opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “Well. I mean. You could always tell them yourself?”

Eddie leveled a very unimpressed stare at her dad, and Cassie couldn’t help but ask, “You want to tell Hope and her parents, daddy?”

“And maybe whatever’s left of the Avengers,” Scott admitted. “Not that I don’t believe you or trust you or anything! But like, more as a… like, you could join us? That’d be cool, right?”

Eddie blinked, and it’s Venom who answered. “We will…think about it,” they said. “For now, we would appreciate if you tell no one, or we might eat your head.”

“Please don’t eat my daddy’s head,” Cassie said at the same time Eddie shouted, “No, Vee, we aren’t eating a hero’s head!” They shared a look, and Eddie continued, “Cassie would be very sad if you ate her dad’s head.”

“Oh. That’s not good. We like Cassie,” Venom said with a bit of a purr, and Cassie giggled.

“Well,” Scott said, “thanks for, for not eating my brain I guess. And, hey, you have my number – let me know if you ever want to do that hero meet-and-greet thing, I’m serious.”

“Sure, I mean, like we said, we’ll think about it,” Eddie replied.

“Yeah, cool, cool, man. I guess, uh. I guess I’ll see you around?”

Eddie and Venom grinned. “Sure,” was the simple reply.

“Great,” Scott said. He looked back to Cassie and then back to Eddie. “And uh, if you’re okay with it – I mean – I’d be okay with you babysitting Cassie still, I mean only if you want to…”

Eddie cut Scott off with a laugh. “Sure, man, we’d love to. See you around, man; bye, Cassie!”

And Cassie watched, still fascinated, as Venom melded back into Eddie and they walked out toward their motorcycle before driving away.

“He was like, the best babysitter ever daddy,” Cassie proclaimed, grinning up at her dad. “I liked him, and Venom too!”

“He certainly was….something,” Scott replied, scratching the back of his neck. “And I’m sure we’ll see him again, sweetie. Now, should we get Charlie Ben-Ant-e some more food or what?”

[amayalunar]

Torn Part 1: The Plan Nyx Ulric X OC X Tredd Furia

Torn Part 1: The Plan Nyx Ulric X OC X Tredd Furia

Ok so I have been saving this for almost a month on paper… legit on paper it’s been sitting in a notebook while I have looked at it… I finally got the courage to finally post it.  Hopefully someone or maybe more will read it.  Not sure how long it’s going to be, but by the looks it’s gonna be a semi long semi short. Not sure.  Anyways thanks for reading.  I’m total Nyx and Tredd trash it’s unbelievable.  

Also Amaya Lunar, has been my original character for a very long time, I use her a lot… like in everything… because yeah that’s how I am… I do have other OC’s as well and might put an introduction page to all of my OC’s… who knows

This is semi borderline NSFW, also also TW total heartbreak and angst… hard core because I am angst trash too….

Unpopular opinion: I think Tredd acts like an ass to certain people, he just had it really rough.

Also I love Nyx (like he’s my fave) but I have ready so many fics where he feels unworthy and breaks it off… I wanted to write what happens after that, because what good is heartbreak without a little push back?

Without further interruptions…. here we go….

______________________________________________________

Amaya and Nyx, many would say they were inseparable. Nyx would always hand his arm around her, he would be protective over her. Even go as far she spending weekend out of town, to stay at one another's place. To be truthful, they were a couple... but clearly two different types.

After another heated session Nyx laid over her, his lips still lingering over her neck, as he took in her body heat, how his hunger was fueled by her skin, her beauty...everything until-

“I love you.”

He froze... he waited until it sank in a bit before he turned over on his back the back of his hand over his mouth. Amaya sat up the blanket pulled over her chest, noticing how his eyes were closed.

“Amaya, you can't love me.” he said lowly, the words felt like venom coming from his mouth, how it slipped down his veins as he heard her breath out a little harder.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her raven hair sticking to her face from the previous session. Her eyes gave a look of fear, the once lively and loving emerald orbs that usually stared at him changed to terror.

“I mean, I... don't love you.” she said trying to get words out, words he didn't mean. Words that would tear the woman he loved apart. “I enjoy my time with you, but... I don't have any emotional connection to you. I thought it was mutual, we have each other for pleasure.” he said, but once the words went out he instantly regretted them seeing her look at him as though he took her life and threw it away.

Amaya looked down, he went to touch her shoulder, wanting to tell her that everything he just said was a lie, but he knew better, he had already fucked everything up, all out of... fear.

Amaya stood her, he saw her shaking. Fighting the urge to get up and hold onto her he watched as she dressed herself, watched her cry, watched her heart break into pieces... watched her fall into oblivion.

That was 3 weeks ago....

Amaya wasn't a Glaive, just someone in the administration ward, usually handling paperwork. That still didn't mean she didn't see him on a daily basis. The time she was with Nyx, made her close with many of the Glaive members, especially Crowe. Crowe was always there for her, Hell she was there when Amaya ran out of that apartment. Crowe was the one who almost smacked Nyx around for what he did, and what he said.

However it didn't change anything. Amaya was still drowning in her own sorrow, trying to avoid the man who shattered her, trying to bring herself to be with others again, just like he did.

That night the Glaive were going out, and Crowe wanted her to go with. Even with all of the constant excuses Crowe finally was able to get a 'yes' out of the raven haired woman but, didn't mean she was happy about it.

Amaya was dressing herself that night, looking at herself in the mirror, trying to psych herself up for the night. Loud banging was heard at the door while Crowe stood there unamused. “That's what you're wearing?” she asked as Amaya rolled her eyes. “No, I just can't figure anything out.” She muttered.

Crowe then took the liberty to go through her closets. She threw out some dark blue skinny jeans, a low cut black cutout shirt, that gave great cleavage and showed her back off a bit with a netted look under, and a burgundy leather jacket. Amaya didn't bicker as she started putting on the outfit when Crowe threw over the black thigh high boots to go with.

After she had the outfit on Amaya accessorized, with a small gold chain and earrings. She cat lined her eyes with a smoky look, bringing her luscious green eyes to life, and accenting it all with a dark red matte lip color, a nice 24 hour wear so she wouldn't have to reapply. Her raven hair was done in a messy yet sexy way, her skin was pale and yet stunning.

When Amaya finally emerged from the bathroom Crowe whistled at her. “Damn girl, I'm can't believe he let that go!” She said eyeing the woman before her. Amaya whined at her for bringing it up, but she knew it's exactly what was going to happen most of the night. Crowe made it a point to try to get Amaya over the break up, or whatever the hell it was. Crowe also made it a point to tell her, that Nyx wasn't doing as hot as he makes it out to be either, “regret is a bitch” Crowe would say, or sometimes the word “revenge” would come up, but Amaya wasn't that type of person, she never was one to use revenge, but maybe... just maybe, it was time she started.

Crowe walked with Amaya down to the street to call a cap, she gushed about the latest of 'Glaive Gossip', they would call it. Mostly it was like, funniest moments of the week, type thing. The cab ride was a little longer than normal, meaning, this was not the normal place they were going. Instead of Yama's place they were in front of a higher end club, which was odd.

Inside Crowe pinpointed the gang right away. Amaya followed quietly as Crowe made herself known. “Well about time you showed up, geeze you women take to long.” he whined, she pushed him, almost getting him off his chair. “You hush, can't rush perfection. Right Amaya?” she asked turning to the raven haired woman. When she made it passed the last person she finally showed herself.

Nyx looked at her, and damn... yeah that was the only word he could think of at the moment.

Damn.

Damn... she was beautiful.

He damned himself for letting this go.

Damn, he wanted nothing more than to touch her in that moment, make everyone else stop staring at what was his....

Damn.... it wasn't his anymore....

Damn... he fucked up.

Amaya looked around at everyone, no one treated her any different, there was an occasional look of pity sometimes, but nothing else, just normal banter. However she felt his eyes on her, she felt him watch her, she had to do something to make it stop, to make his go back to someone else, look at someone else... watch her with someone else?

Amaya looked for a seat, only to see the only available seat was next to her, and she wouldn't put herself there, until she realized that it was just the normal get together, it was almost everyone, just they had other close tables, mostly 2 or 3 man tables, this was her way to get away from it. She seen a familiar redhead sitting at a lone table, either his part was getting drinks or he got annoyed with them, either way, it was him or Nyx.

Amaya made her way over to the cocky glaive, he peered over at her taking a drink. “This seat taken?” she asked motioning to the seat across him. His eyes trailed on her a bit, oh he knew her, everyone knew her, this was the Hero's baby... that is, until now. Tredd gave his signature smirk. “What brings you away from the scooby gang?” he asked, his little nickname for the Hero's group, since they were always together, and more than likely getting into trouble together. She looked at him, her emerald eyes meeting his brown ones. “Maybe I needed a change of pace,” however when she looked up she saw Nyx was getting up, and she didn't want to even speak with him, so instead of sitting she grabbed Tredds hand and pulled him up, “dance with me?” she asked, he gave out a laugh “Tredd don't dance.” his cocksure attitude showed a bit, she turned to see Nyx making his way over, she turned back to the red head, and he could see the light panic under her teasing expression, “please, just one and then I wont bother you anymore.” she said, he let out a sign and took down the last of his drink before fully getting up and following her to the floor. Nyx by-passed the table they were at, but made it seem like he was getting another drink.

Nyx watched from the bar, he hated what he saw, he hated seeing her dance with someone else.

Tredd looked up to see Nyx watching her, well what better way to fuck with the hero than to play a little game with him. He leaned down to Amaya's ear. “Mind if we get a little closer.” he said darkly, his hips pressed against her backside. Amaya enjoyed the heat, she enjoyed dancing with a partner. She grinded up on him as he let his hand slip down her figure as his mind starting thinking about want was underneath.

Nyx held his glass firmly, actually surprised he hadn't broken it yet. His eyes dating to the two. He should be the one with his hands trailing her hip, whispering into her ear. He should be the one...

Amaya didn't make eye-contact but she knew he was watching, she knew he saw her with someone else, and not just any someone, this was Tredd Furia, one of his comrades and one of his rivals. She knew his reputation which is why she could pull this more her way. She turned herself to Tredds face her eyes looking directly into his. “Take me home tonight?” His expression was a bit shocked, but he covered it up pretty well, “well I can't deny a lady's wish now can I?” he said his smirk widened. He his eyes trailed to Nyx, his eyes said it all... 'look what I have'...

Tredd leaned into her more taking her lips on his.

Nyx wanted to crush the glass bottle, he wanted to warp over to the two and slit his throat. No one, NO ONE, was to ever touch her... wait where? He watched as Amaya dragged him off the floor, over to the table and out the door. Nyx, letting his instincts take over quickly tried to follow however by the time he found himself outside, she was getting into a cab with him to Gods knows where. Nyx punched the building wall with more force than he really expected to.

He fucked up....

In the cab there was a light makeup session as Tredd let his hands wonder her. Feeling how soft her skin was under that leather jacket. When the cab came to a halt she purposely climbed over him, making it so she straddled his hips for a short amount of time. He paid the cabby with a cheeky comment about his great driving skills.

Tredd lead the way up to his apartment. Inside he turned to her as he kissed her roughly, trailing to her neck as he pulled off her jacket leaving the cut out shirt. The shirt exposed more skin than covered it seemed but, he wouldn't complain. His hands trailed from her waist to her hips, to those thighs. He felt her arms slip around his neck as he went back for her lips. Taking things further he lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist, he pressed into her, causing her to moan into his mouth. For some reason his caused him to need her more. Without stopping himself he carried her to his room where he laid her on the bed towering over his, letting himself breath a bit before going back in.

However before he could he could see it in her eyes, the force... she was forcing herself to do this?

As much as he didn't want to, as much as he wanted to ignore it, he couldn't. Yes Tredd was fully aware he was an asshole, he was fully aware he was the master of one night stands and booty calls. However he would never take advantage of a woman when she was in pain.

Tredd move off her to lay on his back beside her. She knew, he knew. He was a Glaive, he was trained to notice the smallest details in everything. “Sorry.” she muttered, he turned to her almost confused. “Sorry for what?” “leading you on like this.” he sighed as he tried calming himself. He never did this, Tredd didn't do feelings, he didn't talk, he didn't dig.... but this was Amaya Lunar. The previous lover to the 'Hero of the Glaive' laying next to him, forcing herself to be with another man.

“Why?” is all he asked, she propped herself up, the scene reminded her of that day, just this time she had clothing on. “Why did I do it?” she questioned. Tredd shook his head as he sat up throwing his legs over the bed as he sat staring out the window. Apparently the weather felt just as shitty as she did, it must have began raining after they got inside.

“Why did he leave you?” Tredd asked taking her out of her thought process. Tredd felt the bed shift, he almost thought she was getting up to leave, until he saw her, sitting next to him, legs crossed as she looked out the window as well. “I told him I love him... but apparently I was....” she thought about his words, “you can't love me”, her eyes welled with tears once more as she tried to keep them silent. Tredd stayed silent waiting for the answer, however the answer isn't what he expected it to be. “Apparently, we were suppose to be just for pleasure.” she let out, her voice wavering. “This is why I tried, I tried going home with you, because if he can use me for that why can't I let someone else.” she cried out.

Those words ran though his like a double edged sword. He thought that, yes he can do it, he would pleasure someone to receive pleasure back, but Nyx? Tredd was always the ass, he would always poke Nyx's buttons just because he could. Nyx was suppose to be the golden boy. For some reason Tredd wanted to punch the guy. Then an idea hit him, he looked at her... he could see the pain... he wanted to get rid of it. He didn't know why. Yes he knew her, yes they were considered friends, yes she was damn fine, and probably one of the most beautiful women he had ever met. However Tredd didn't do feeling right?

She started getting up, “I'm sorry I bothered you like this, probably ruined your night with my tears.” she apologized, he got up standing in front of her, he pushed the hair that stuck to her tear stained face. “No... you didn't ruin my night. Oh damn I didn't get laid, guess what? I can do that tomorrow if I feel like it.” he said trying to lighten the mood. “Look, he's an ass for letting someone like you go. So lets make a deal, I will help you make him regret it.” he said she looked at him confused. “I will act on as though we are...” he looked for a suitable phrase, until she just decided to call it what it was, “friends with benefits?” He gave off a few nods, “Yeah that. We will act as though we are, I will go to places with you or show up. When you don't want to or can't anymore I'll get you out. To him, he'll see you leave with me. Occasionally leave something with me, something he would recognize. A picture of something. You'll make him regret it.” She looked at him, “Tredd, don't you think this will get in the way of your other booty calls?” she tried to joke through her surprise. Again he shrugged, “there is nothing that could bring me more joy than watching the hero squirm off of his own mistake.” he said, his tone was entertained as he pictured various outcomes, many resulted in them fighting, but hey it would be worth it.

Amaya went to speak but could only nod. Tredd saw how awkward she felt, as he pulled her closer. “How about tonight you stay here, we have to get more comfortable with each other. Promise I will keep my hands to myself... the best I can.” he added trying to make it come off that this was just so he could watch Nyx spiral into self pity. Amaya nodded as she slipped off her thigh high boots, pulling off her shirt. Tredd watched as she did so, part of him wanted to lay her down right there, show her he could be better than the hero in every way... wait, what?

Tredd got up and grabbed one of his shirts, he knew it was going to mess with him when she would be wearing nothing but maybe panties under than shirt, knowing there was never a woman in the world who would sleep with a bra on. He handed it to her as she took it. He knew she was only stripping down to secure herself with him, but didn't make it any easier for him not to stare or look, or even peek, which he failed miserably at.

Amaya finished her undressing, she then looked back at Tredd. “I'll pay for the take out, since you paid for the cab.” she offered, he shook his head, “next time.” he said as he went onto his phone and orders some random take out. He never liked it when someone else paid for him, even if it was returning a favor, it just wasn't in his character. He was always alone and made it up in the ranks in everything he did just to show he can do it. He didn't ever like something handed to him.

The two ended up watching TV, surprising enough Tredd sat and watched some sappy shit with her. The take out was accompanied by a quick split to the small mart next to the building for a thing of ice cream. Two spoons in the tub as Tredd continuously whined or argued with the couples in the movies. Amaya laughed at how cheesy things were, Tredd noticed lightly how pretty it was, he also mentally slapped himself for thinking it as well.

The night continued just like that, just like two friends catching up and having a night of nothing more than a good time. The two ended up falling asleep on the couch, Tredd's back was in the corner of the couch one leg up on the couch the other on the floor. He had his sweats on, and a tank. Amaya was leaned up against him, his chest her pillow and his arm as the top of the blanket... it was peaceful... it was calming... it was comfortable... No nightmares came that night.

Nyx splashed water onto his face as he still couldn't believe she went home with him. He knew she did too, because she wasn't at her own apartment. He looked into the mirror, his face was wet, his chest feeling like he was being crushed, worse than the last couple weeks. He made it back to his bedroom as he grabbed his phone, as she scrolled through the photos. Various photos of her littered though the gallery, some were just random shots, others of her in her lingerie, other were selfies of the two of them. He scrolled a little further hitting the video he wanted. They were in Galdin Quay, he smiled at the memory. He remember every move he made in the video to capture the one moment he wanted to have with him wherever he went. He snuck up behind her and grabbed her sides, as she let out a squeal then it turned into laughter as he didn't let go. Her laugh... the thing he would listen to when he couldn't sleep on missions, the sound that pulled him back from going off of an edge... the sound he loved. Nyx set the phone down next to himself as she leaned his head on his hands his eyes closed. He wouldn't cry... he couldn't... he did it... he let one tear fall... then another... until his whole being ached to hold her again... before he finally took sleep.

[spnfanficpond]

June Angel Fish Awards

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle or Mana to check and make sure we got your submission.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE JUNE’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @wingedcatninja and @mrswhozeewhatsis and @manawhaat

The Song Remains the Same (oneshot) by @sammit-janet 

@wingedcatninja said -  This fic by @sammit-janet is the best case fic I have ever read. It has everything: drama, angst, a witch curse, perfect characterization. Reading it was like being inside an episode of Supernatural. And, without spoiling anything, the ending broke my heart. To quote my own comment when I reblogged it:

“I don’t even know where to start. The story is fantastic. The prose is beautiful. The characterization is on point. The angst is delightfully painful. It’s just overall amazing. Thank you for sharing this awesome piece of art.”

@mrswhozeewhatsis said -  The painful ingenuity of the spell in this case fic is genius. Pure freaking genius! Painful as hell, but genius. Characterization is wonderful, as always, and my heart is a little more broken, but I’m used to that with Sammit!! Brava!!!! *throws roses at you*

@manawhaat said-  WOW! That was fucking awesome! We see witch spells so often and (maybe it’s bc of the genre I’m reading but) they’re always like lust spells of some sort, so it was super refreshing to see this kind of spell. This whole thing was just really well done, super interesting, perfectly in character and the realm of spn. And that last little bit. UGH! SO PERFECT! So Dean! So spot on! So fitting and heartbreaking and such a perfect little add on. I swear, this whole thing legit felt like I watched an episode of the show. This case fic is a perfect example of how I want every fic to read. I want the drama, the suspense, the emotion, the subtleties, the Winchesters as they truly are, this kind of gentle care for detail and attention to creating a realistic feel. I can’t say it enough- this is fucking FANTASTIC!

Nominated by @wingedcatninja

Never Wanna Say Goodbye (oneshot) by @deanwinchesterswitch

This is deliciously painful angst that leaves you with tears in your eyes and a smile on your lips.

Nominated by @risingphoenix761

Salty Stockings (oneshot) by @slytherkins

Cute, hilarious, and just the right amount of crack. Also risque and suggestive. Did I mention this is hilarious? So much good stuff in a short fic, and imagine if anyone suggested Dean take this with him on a hunt!

Nominated by @manawhaat

True or False (oneshot) by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters

The way this starts instantly pulls you in. There’s so much pent up shit rattling through Dean and the way it’s reciprocated through Y/n is an amazing build. There’s so much emotion and vulnerability to this entire thing, and it’s done in a way that’s completely believable and realistic for Dean. Fuck. It’s smart and really just opens them both up in such a refreshing way that speaks of Dean’s bravery, even in the face of being raw and exposed to someone else. And the way the tables turn. *screeches and flaps on the floor* Be still my fucking heart! I fucking adore this and the way you approached this fic and premise. There are so many ways it could have gone wrong or lost its power and impact, but you fucking nailed it!

Covet (series) by @waywardjoy

Fucking Christ, this series stressed me the fuck out, but in the best way possible. The cliffhangers, the dark grittiness. The insanity! Fuck, I absolutely love it when stories are written in a way that completely immerse me in it. It’s dark, like, really dark. Fuck. It just hurts. 

The Beginning of The End (oneshot) by @deanwinchesterswitch

OW! There is a secret desperation in this that is absolutely brutal and tears your heart in two. The way Dean is written is eye-opening and really just drags you down into a depth of pain and grief that only a Winchester can feel. I feel like I should say something about the sex being hot, but I can’t. Because to me it’s just so rough, borderline too rough, and so emotional. Which might sound weird, but in this situation and with the way everything is presented that scene is honest as fuck, very believable, and powerful. At some point things become more about the emotional release than they do being sexy, and this is a gorgeous example of that kind of repressed emotion roaring to life in ‘bottle it up forever’ Dean Winchester. This fic hurts so good all the way through and in different ways. That in itself is a feat, so have so many layers in one story. It’s anger and hurt and guilt and worry and all of it is wrapped so delicately together in this fucking stunning piece of art. 

Born This Way (oneshot) by @evansrogerskitten

HAPPY PRIDE MOTHER FUCKERS!!!!!! This fuckin’ fic! Wow. This is the definition of the spn family. There’s so much love and support wrapped up in this story, in this fucking dream. I rarely get like, actually emotional reading fics (because I’m a heartless bitch) but this has me sitting here clutching my chest with my eyes closed just full body squeeing and smiling and my gut is clenching with all the emotion. There is something to be said of the spn family being allies. This song, this setting, this family, and the moment you’ve created here is so important and such a special thing! AND, as if the fic itself wasn’t enough to make me burst into happy tears, the tweets at the bottom sure the fuck were! Honestly, everything about this is so spot on and believable and just fucking pure and good.

Castiel Imagine (drabble) by @webcricket

Holy hell, that Cas fic was not only incredibly fucking sensual and well done but it was just so full of amazing language. Fantastic! I feel like a lot of writers who try to beef up their language tend to use words that feel out of place, but your consistency and the way you weave them together made me slow down to savor every line and that was such a beautiful thing.

Nominated by @sorenmarie87

Life for Rent (series) by @winchest09

The series has just started but I can’t wait to see where it goes.  I love a good mobster!au and the set up so far has me wondering what’s going to happen next. 

What Research? (oneshot) by @becs-bunker 

What do I say about this other than I loved it?  I mean Sam has been busy and the reader just wants some attention from him. Of course, they accomplish what they set out to do and it’s worth the read.  

Born This Way by @evansrogerskitten 

This was a fantastic fic. The reader has the casts approval and support, and the way they came out was fantastic. I almost cried, no lie. Ash’s fics are always fantastic but this hit me in an unsuspected way. 

Once Upon A Dream (oneshot) by @welldonebeca

I haven’t honestly seen that many Human!Gabe fics let alone Alpha!Gabe at that.  The story is so sweet.

Fallen Productions (series) by @welldonebeca  

I always admire authors who can write A/B/O but this mini series works its way through the original Team Free Will in a different way.  

He Is (series) by @coffee-obsessed-writer

This whole series is super sweet. Each chapter shows just what Dean means to you, and Jen nails it in each of them.

Make You Feel My Love (series) by @sofreddie 

This was such a sweet A/B/O series.  I love that Dean and the reader took their time, I mean Dean eased her through her earlier heats but I think it was sweet that it was just smut off the bat.  

Nominated by @iflostreturntosteverogers

Almond Milk Lies (series) by @fictionalabyss  

Mel is a fantastic writer 💕

Nominated by @shy-violet-soul 

The Girl Next Door (series) by @luci-in-trenchcoats 

An engaging AU, this writer keeps you hooked with well-paced timing & plot. Portrayal of characters is consistent with the show, which other fics struggle with when not in the SPN world. The story line is believable and genuine, and I enjoy the banter between the 2 main pairing-folks. Bravo!

Sunsets by @crispychrissy 

Damn. This work is so beautifully painful, or painfully beautiful, it’s hard to find words. I don’t want to comment on a favorite part to avoid giving away the plot. But this writer has captured a lesser-written character powerfully and consistently, and hooks you in with strong imagery and pacing. Hold on to your heartstrings for this one. 

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

As with the BFAs, these are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

[seenashwrite]

Dearest Nash, I've touched on this before in (I believe) in a discussion re: why some mainstream fics get oodles of notes while more original ones do not, *but* I wanted to get a bit more specific here. There are certain writers here whose writing has a definite vibe to it (if you will) that separates their work from others, and your name is one of the first that comes to mind. Bear with me, because trying to detail what makes your writing stand out is difficult while trying to articulate a Q

^ this is a gif with parts 2 - 4, just FYI

Hmmm… this is a bit of a brain buster. But I can answer it, and I think succinctly, maybe with a touch of that Spidey sense you mention:

Thank you for your inquiry, hope that helps! 

I kid. But this is a brain-turner. And a characteristic which, like you say, ain’t limited to me. I’d honestly throw comedians under this umbrella, too, not because I’m necessarily gunning for a laugh every time, but because it’s pretty much their job to take a “basic” (a tenet or fact of life or present reality or whatever) and present the observation with a twist. I think of storyteller comedians specifically, your Patton Oswalt-s, Maria Bamford-s, Kathy Griffin-s, and John Mulaney-s.

So if I can sum up, assuming I’m tracking with you, what you’re more or less driving at with the “how” is this –> Is there anything beyond simply personality, or an auto-pilot thought cascade (for lack of better terminology) that contributes? Are there things someone could do/be proactive about, to perhaps cause this same sort of reaction to happen in their brain?

I think there just might be.

Folks reading this, let me ask you a question, and you cannot look it up:

What was the name of the Sherpa guide who led Sir Edmund Hillary up Mount Everest?

.

.

.

His name was Tenzing Norgay.

Nash, what in the name of the frozen corpse of George Mallory does this have to do with Lion’s question?

I shall tell you.

My father told me that fact when I was quite young, so young I legit couldn’t even ballpark my age for you. The context was that having little facts tucked away in your brain may come in handy. Not in a Jeopardy kind of way, more in a conversational way. I’ve no idea why the man thought the Sherpa guide who led Hillary up Mt. Everest would ever come up during a conversation with enough regularity to justify my knowing that fact (aside from him randomly quizzing me throughout my life) but hey, I guess it just did.

But speaking of Lil’ Nash, the situation for her was that she was the eldest of all the Nash litter by miles… like seven or eight years, I’m not bothering to check. So I had a lot of alone time, and my grandmother was my chief babysitter, so prior to kindergarten and then til I was in about second grade (so: all day long during the week, then every weekday after she picked me up from school), I was pretty much always at her house. Yeah, there were toys, but not a lot to do. And I’d read. I’d been reading on my own for a decent while, not because I was some prodigy but because my dad read to me *constantly* when Lil’ Nash was Itty-Bitty Nash, and it “took”. My mom also, every time she went to the grocery store always - and I mean always - brought back a book for me. It might’ve been an Archie comic—-

Mandatory #fuck the CW’s Riverdale tag

—-or a Babysitter’s Club, or Sweet Valley High, Judy Blume, Madeleine L’Engle, Zilpha Keatley Snyder, you get my point. Some small paperback. It would piss Dad off because he’s a cheap bastard and two buck books once or twice a month were really gonna cut into the savings [eyeroll] but also, in a way, because I’d kill it in a half day/a day. Wouldn’t put it down. After awhile, I started writing my own silly little kid stories, then - and this is where the creative writing love came about -  I started writing soap operas for my Barbies. (When I was older - like, 5th grade? 6th grade, maybe? - none of my peers were still playing with Barbies, and I got made fun of when, at a sleepover, they saw my stash. And I was like - No, no, no. Those aren’t for playing. That’s my cast.)

Time went on, and when I was bored at post-church lunch/dinners, I would also read the old encyclopedias at my grandmother’s, the ones from the late ‘60s/early ‘70s that she had for my mom and my aunt. As I got even older and became fascinated with rooting through the boxes in gran’s basement, looking at all the cool old clothes, I stumbled upon my aunt’s collection of Whoa-Hooooo Shit There’s No Way My Grandparents Knew You Read These books. Those kinda Harlequin-esque ones, except my aunt’s tastes run close to mine, none were the same shtick with different covers, shmultzy-sappy romance, there was always some sort of intrigue along with the sexy times, and she also had, like, every legit V. C. Andrews (meaning: not the ones from the ghostwriter, this was way before her death) book.

What is my point? I read a LOT. Now-a-days, other than fanfic (which… straight up: I don’t read a lot of that, either. I peace out on probs 80% of it before the third-to-fifth paragraph. It’s gotta sell me fast, yo) I haven’t read fiction in probably, oh…. 12 years? I think the last ones were the first couple Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Wait, no! I lie! I read the 50 Shades books when I was traveling 2x/wk for a job about 4 years ago, and I needed the laughs. It worked. Oh my days, that woman can’t write. The screenplay might’ve been worse, it goes her, then Buckleming, then everyone else. It’s bad. In any event, past decade or so, it’s more historical stuff and true crime and science stuff and all that old fart jazz.

Okay, so that’s #1: Read. And not just anything, be well-read, and that doesn’t mean developing some level of expertise, by “well” I’m saying to cover the spread. You’re building your tool kit, is all. You won’t use most of it, but it’s nice to have options. You also don’t always have to get this stuff from reading now-a-days, because podcasts. Cover the spread there, too. Lemme look at my bookmarks…. 

[Spongebob narrator voice: A few moments later]

I’m back. Science - Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe; General current stuff without being news - CGP Grey’s Hello Internet; current events with shittons of pop culture, past and present - Greg Proops’ Smartest Man in the World; fun history stuff - The Dollop; entertainment stuff - How Did This Get Made.

#2: Keep a notebook with you and jot down turns-of-phrase that spark something in your brain - things you read on websites, on twitter, in articles, things you hear people say (real life, TV, movies, podcasts), and write it. Don’t snap a pic with your phone or make a note in your phone. There are studies behind this, I’m not hunting them down, you’ll just have to trust me, but there are, and it goes to being reflexive, a brain “muscle memory” thing, if you will. You’re not doing it to plagiarize, you’re doing it to dissect it, kind’ve like you did with the example you gave on me —> went from punch action to punch spiked with booze to a punch with a spiked gauntlet.

Which leads to #3: Mental dictionary. I have a large vocab repository, and it stems from the tons of reading - I stop and look up stuff if I either don’t know it, or it’s used in such a way that I think they’ve got it wrong and want to double-check that maybe there’s another usage I don’t know - and also stems from a drive to combat the (still fairly thick) deep South drawl I can’t kick, and not for lack of trying. But see, I couldn’t have whipped out that progression if I weren’t aware that one definition of “spike” is “to add alcohol to”, or of the common shtick in stories of spiked punch like at high school proms typically, or knew about the existence of spiked gauntlets / old school armor. 

And I guarantee you that a good chunk of people didn’t really “get it”, and just thought “Nash Be Nashin’, that nutty gal”. So they “get it” on that level, but don’t Get. It., if you see what I’m saying. And that’s fine. Maybe it got something cranking in the back of their mind and it’ll hit ‘em in the middle of the night, or they’ll be watching Game of Thrones or something, see a gauntlet and be like “Oh goddamnit, I just got a throw-a-way one-liner from three years ago” and have a chuckle.

Related, re: looking stuff up and things that people “get”? I didn’t know fuck-all about Twilight, but it seemed of import to the folks around 5 years younger than me, the Nashlings wouldn’t shut up about it, so I got a good working knowledge of it. Same with Harry Potter, and through it I got to “know” J.K. Rowling, who I find to be an exceptional writer, so that was great, and I’ve watched the movies for the most part over the years at Christmastime, and I don’t give the first shit about what “house” I’m in, nor do I care about what Patronus I’d fart, but I have a working knowledge of what those are, and horcruxes and who Snape and Voldie are, you get my point. I can keep up. But to do it, I had to take the time to look it up. One thing I would not trade for gold is Michael Sheen chewing the goddamn scenery in that battle segment from the last Twilight movie. Have I watched the movie? No. But that scene is the shit. And that baby CGI is horrific on several subtle levels. And not-so-subtle. I’ve digressed.

Back to those notes: So if you’ve got these notes jotted, you might see something else and think “I feel like that could’ve been snappier…. why do I think that….” And you’ve got a resource at your disposal, that little notebook. Hell, jot that thing down - things you think could be done better. I have in many documents a highlight around chunks of scenes for my big dog story where it says in bold above or below “DO BETTER”. Meaning: there’s a better way to get from A to B, but I’m just not quite there yet. I’m pretty quick on the uptake and can crank out something snappy on the fly (like say, in CASPN chat or when banging out a short reply or thank you note) but there’s definitely times I gotta slap a DO BETTER on it and walk away til that snappy something-or-other light bulb goes off. 

Here’s a recent one where I backtracked, matter of fact - that noir spoof thing I wrote? Along with my co-writer, Moscato? There was a line that I couldn’t hit with a good zinger, so I just said moments were going by like a fat hamster on a wheel, which is cute, but not really grooving with the setting/the vibe. Less tipsy, when I was correcting some inelegant formatting and a misspelling [sigh], I went “Oh! Why didn’t this occur to me last night? Right. Wine.” So the line is now about moments dragging like a rolling donut with a copper on its tail. Get it? The cop’s a fat ass. The donut-cop stereotype.

…….Fine, it ain’t my best, but it fits better. Moving on.

And this leads nicely into #4, and a specific tip I can impart - assuming you’ve got a passable-to-high level of vocabulary in your tool belt, practice messing around with making nouns into verbs, and twisting random stuff into descriptors and using bizarre words/things in metaphors/analogies. Like, I say “adulting” quite a bit. Ali - @littlegreenplasticsoldier - I thiiiink was writing recently about Sam being drunk, and he’s a tall wobbly Jenga tower on his last Jenga. Going back to the noir, pulpy detective style, try messing with the whole “S/he was like a ___ that ____”. Add on to stuff that’s well known - He was like a dog with a bone, if the bone was a ____ and he was a ____ and we were in a ____. (I have *nothing* in mind to fill those blanks, by the way, feel free to twist it into sumpin’)

What else…. okay, here’s a #5: In drafts, let yourself wander, and see what kicks out. It can be fueled by silliness or anger, but I don’t reckon you’re gonna get the “snappy” you’re aiming for if you’re down in the dumps and going full-court-press angst. The best stuff, IMO, comes from the space in between goofy and pissed, and that is The Land Of Snark. You can always re-style it to bend more dry or wistful should you need to, certainly, depending on the situation.

Have a sample of a primo Nash Digression that was fueled by ire in a recap from Season 12 (episode 19). I had said - RE: the random inclusion of the character Joshua, which still pisses me off because they burned a character that held massive potential for future stuff as he’d been shown to be the only angel with direct access to Chuck, so, y’know, that could never come in handy, like ever again in the series, right? - the following.

Mandatory pre-emptive #fuck Dabb

[Spongebob narrator voice] A few moments later —> 

On god, I have no idea where that came from, and here’s where we go back to ol’ Spidey up there, because end of the day?

All that other stuff’s the foundation, sure, but there’s always gonna be the weird iggy, the thing that can’t be learned or taught, whatever the quirky synapse is that fires off in my/our brains. In my experience, it’s an ADD-ish sort of jam mixed with the Nostradamus effect. Meaning, (A) we’re at Level 10, rapid fire thought processing >50% of the time, and (B) throw out enough stuff for long enough, some of it’s going to stick. And I whiff it plenty. Multiple times in CASPN chat I’ve been like “Whoo, tough room” when something falls flat.

A specific example: @mrswhozeewhatsis - and I think you saw this, but anyone else seeing this may not have - gave probably the most fantastic analogy I’ve seen regarding the whole “getting it” thing, and while it was on the topic of meaty plots that get too far into the weeds (my specialty) and how it can lessen appeal to a broader audience, it still applies here. 

She said “Sometimes, when I’m reading something of yours, I feel like there’s a joke I’m missing. It’s like watching Spaceballs without having seen Star Wars.” I say that to say - nobody’s gonna land references that cover the spread 100% of the time. And, y’know, fine. I figure maybe it’ll prompt someone to do a quick google for - well, let’s use Spaceballs. Most folks will no doubt get the Star Wars part, but maybe not Spaceballs. Maybe they’ll check it out, find something they enjoy. Or learn a new word. Or get a brainstorm for a story. Who knows?

Last tip: Don’t actively mimic anyone’s style. Much fail. And I don’t only mean because if they’re on a social Venn diagram with you, would likely recognize themselves in your stuff——

Takes a moment to wave to the peeps still trying with me! #bless your hearts

—–but because it’s fucking hard. I did it broadly on the noir thing, that’s not a hard thing, to homage generalities, but the way I’m messing with doing this on that silly Princess Bride series? Purposefully styling it like Goldman? It’s good  challenging and all, and it is making it feel more in the groove with the book/movie, but I have to be in the right frame of mind or it’s like fingernails on a chalkboard, and when I have pushed it, then gone back, it’s sloggy, soggy garbage.

I say all that to say: it’s an amalgam of brain-wiring/personality, and world/life perspective(s), and knowledge acquired over time. The first just is; the second will evolve in myriad ways, maybe for the better, maybe for the worse; the last is the one where you/we have control, we can fill bucket after bucket of information, and the well won’t ever run dry.

Sorry this took so long. I kept adding and subtracting. This is the edited version, if you can believe it. Welcome to Nash Brain. 😉

[amisbro]

Let’s answer this

If someone asked me RIGHT NOW “Where are you in terms of UtaPri and the fandom?” That is arguably the most complicated question I would ever have to answer...and I took World Culture in High School!

Okay let’s be serious UtaPri is legit one of the few franchises that tests me mentally in the sense of Figuring out Broccoli’s next move with Merch What they could do gamewise What is going to happen with the Anime Information on other projects (Shining Masterpiece/Theater ,DVDs ,Stage shows etc.) What the next step in the universe would be as a whole with the different units and COULD THEY CREATE MORE...I never discussed this one but its something I had been thinking about Its also one of the few that has allowed me to mess with the Canon and treat groups that might not have been treated fairly and write them in ways that I enjoy...matter of fact SPOILER TIME but one of the next fic works coming this month is my yearly Birthday concert but with a twist that you’ll see for the first time when the birthday comes up. It HAS also been one of the more frustrating fandoms lately that I have been in/dealt with and I’m not going to bullshit it anymore. History Lesson So back in 2013 (and more specifically near the end of it I discovered a gif of one of the characters from the series...at the time I had no idea who it was and ,if you remember, Tumblr made an update that hid the tags unless you went in the post on a person’s blog (generally the OP) and found out what it was.  In this case it was Ren Jingugji of STARISH whom I found out was voiced by Junichi Suwabe.  That name sounded familiar and I discovered he was in BroCon as the brother Kaname whom was a Monk (and also a womanizer...there’s a comho) (Also if I got the occupation for Kaname wrong I apologize.  I could have sworn that was his occupation but its been a while since I watched the series so forgive me on the mistake if there was one) Well after this discovery about UtaPri I went and looked it up on my favorite website (okay second...ANN is first anymore) in Wikipedia and I discovered it was a Otome/Visual Novel game and that intrigued me...what intrigued me more was researching some of the characters and at the time legit five intrigued me Natsuki Shinomiya of STARISH and the whole of QN QN was interesting because ,since I was just discovering UtaPri at this point, I knew jack about them...but I wanted to see what I could learn about them from observation/  Legit the ONLY SPOILER I retained at the time was that Ai was programmed with the memory of Aine or something of that effect...again its been a good while. Season 1 I watched through DVD and if you go through this blog you will see that I did two different blogs on that and Season 2.  When I did Season 2 that was through the site crunchyroll and I remember at the time I was talking with someone using the “Fan Mail” option (hey tumblr staff bring that back will ya...I actually liked that option) and before I got to Season 2 someone had told me about Camus.  The reason for this was because I mentioned (at the time) I despised Ren’s character for being a womanizing playboy that didn’t give a s**t about being an idol.  Now yes that was actually wrong but it was the thing I remembered from my first watch through (which was when the conversation with the tumblr user occurred). Before we discuss Season 2 you have to know this.  Because I knew at the time info would be readily available on the “initial 6″ (Cecil wasn’t in STARISH yet) legit the only one I remembered reading about was Natsuki and originally I thought I was going to enjoy his character...matter of fact for anyone that wants to know that doesn’t from S1 the “Best Boy” spot was something like this Tokiya (before Cecil has {BEEEEP]) Cecil And once the Season was rewatched it was Ren after realizing the crap he not only went through in Season 1 but then later in Season 2 HOWEVER Once Season 2 came about and QN was introduced anyone that knows me knows that my faves showed up in Ai and Camus (and also Ran)...Reiji I never could really embrace and I have TRIED!  Something about him I just can’t get with. (I know I know...I can’t deal with him but I have no issue with Myu right?  Yeah I’ve been working on that one for over 4 years and it ain’t easy) So Season 2 was ON FIRE! Legit all of the songs I could kind of embrace (I legit replayed Crystal Time all day for like 3 weeks straight if I remember...might have been shorter but it was a murderous loop trust me) and the story (for the most part) was a very light and funny tone from what I remembered.  Yeah there were the “heavy” moments but you didn’t want to have a nervous breakdown after the episodes ended...that was me in Season 4 when Episode 11 happened BUT ANYWAYS Season 2 was ALSO the introduction of the “Renegade Princes” in HEAVENS and around this time they were just a trio (June 6th would be the airdate and the “official” birthday of HEAVENS I guess?  I think some use the 27th of June so its funny) and I was like most people.  I wanted them to fall on their ass and never be seen again so we could get to the STARISH/QN part of the story (cos I legit watched the SSX OVA like 50 times and can damn near recite that fucker word for word if I remember scenes hard enough...I think it was the first time I saw Myu with glasses too!) Now here was the thing about HEAVENS AT FIRST I was like the fandom like “Look at these jackasses.  All they want to do is start shit and cause problems for STARISH so they need their ass beat” and well they did lose and I think I remember the first time being REALLY HAPPY about it but I think around the second time I THINK (and I would have to go back through my notes) I was less harsh on them.  I know by the time I got to their debut episode (and I finished it) a THIRD TIME I had no issues with them left...then again this might have been during the space between Season 3 and 4. Actually...yeah the third watch was between Season 3 and 4 cos I wanted to see how the “Original Trio” acted and then I would compare that with the “new boys” later.  If I remember right (cos I am trying to NOT rewrite history) when I first saw the “Fully Powered” HEAVENS The one I probably took the most issue with was Van (sorry @baku5ds) but it was because he reminded me of Ren from Season 1 and I wanted to deck his ass...still kind of want to punch him then for acting like a knob but he’s aight now! Season 4 was going to be an interesting time for me See before Season 4 started I remember asking people how they thought the season was going to go and they thought it would go like this HEAVENS would lose (well they were initially DQ’d so kind of right) and then it would be down to STARISH and QN with HEAVENS as background characters (which is what they were in Season 3 cos we didn’t see them again till the new 7 showed up). When we found out it was going to be duets between STARISH and HEAVENS it became interesting for me because remember this:  Because I watched legit the initial debut for the Trio (and their subsequent loss) twice a part of me wanted to see what Broc would do FOR THEM because I personally had kind of “been there/done that” with STARISH and I learned as much as I could for three seasons and dealing with their personalities...nothing wrong with that but after a while you need to interject new characters to freshen up a series. One thing I remember being asked was basically this “How can you like HEAVENS when you don’t know about them?” (That’s not the question verbatim but considering this question was on skype legit now over 2 years old I dunno if I can find it again) We have to remember that around the time of Season 2 (when I watched it) I legit only remembered Ai’s part of the wikipedia entry so...why should I have liked QN? I really DIDN’T read the STARISH part of the wikipedia entry so why have liked them? See the way I work as a fan is through observation and I see what I see and then make my judgements based on that.  I STILL think that the School staff was borderline antagonistic (all of them and that includes Shining) and when STARISH officially got to debut with Nanami as the composer I smiled cos in the end the “bad guys” (even if they really weren’t) “got theirs” What I got legit curious about was this during Season 4 Even if my opinion and a STARISH fan’s opinion on HEAVENS never matched up could we have that civil discussion to say “okay you don’t like them that’s cool but please respect that I do” We all know about the “3 weeks of hell” and I won’t relive those but those were the WORST 3 weeks of my life.  I legit think I damn near had a headache that lasted that entire stretch I was that annoyed cos I could legit see the story in front of me but everyone else was like “Nah fam...that ain’t true” then HEAVENS lost in the Triple S after their perseverance of dealing with “Daddy’s bulls**t” and I don’t know if I was more annoyed about that or the prior weeks with the “EiiOto Mess” and the rest of the duet project cos in my head I knew one part of the fandom would be THRILLED while the other would be annoyed...I think anyone that knows me knows where i was to the point someone made a stalk account on twitter to try and get on me...didn’t work cos I know how to block people! ANYWHO! I’m going to try and keep the rest of this brief af...I say try so we won’t go over 6th stage (and how I thought that was a trainwrck...maybe I was too harsh back then to be honest) but I do want to discuss this Whenever I hear (and others I know) that “HEAVENS’ role is only to make STARISH better” I half ass chuckle because if we are talking about groups to make STARISH BETTER well...there was QN and then STARISH was again kind of like “Nah fam” and we know what happened. I dunno that I am annoyed with the fanbase...matter of fact I can almost tell you flat out I’m not but if I had a gripe with the “Western/International” base it felt more like at times y’all didn’t want there TO BE fans of the “Renegade Princes” because I know a friend of mine made a VERY INNOCENT post when it came to Shining Live and HEAVENS and they asked “What would the HEAVENS fans want in Shining Live for them” and I remember the Anons and how they were kind of rude...not a good way to grow a fanbase kids. Let’s be clear on this and I’m going to try and make this brief I don’t hate STARISH nor their fans I don’t hate QN or their fans (obviously I am one) I’m more frustrated because you see when you are someone like me who IRL dealt with a lot of s**t and was an underdog his whole life I always root for them...I want to see that upset! I think I would have enjoyed STARISH’s story a bit more IF they showed that they could “take it on the chin” one time and then go “Okay we lost that round...let’s give it hell next time!” I know they technically COULDN’T do that with the story they were telling but don’t you think that Suwabe right?  He worked on KnB and he could have said “Well look...in this series my school beat the main school (Seirin) and then they came back eventually and beat us...couldn’t we do something like that?” Irony before anyone says anything is he ,SuzuKen ,Kishow ,OnoD ,to a lesser extent Shimono and Tatsun (might have been more...I think Toriumi was on Suwabe’s team) all knew what happened but I think because of certain issues they HAD to write UtaPri where STARISH was basically unstoppable...best guess It gets frustrating sometimes to be a fan of the series (less so for me now that I play on the JP account more full-time now) and you want...really all of the groups to do well but you know you really want your group to do well.  It also somewhat gets upsetting when you ask people “Would you watch a season that was just HEAVENS?” and then they tell you they would skip it...never mind that you watched effectively 2 full seasons of the “main group” but EYYY I dunno I think I get agitated and I know there are others that do too.  I would NEVER just turn my back on the franchise because I love it but I think I just wish that HEAVENS got repped well on this site and even facebook better than I feel like they do.  I think sometimes they will never get this “stigma” of being an “antagonist” off of them and that sucks...but for some people the “first impression is the one that lasts” so I can’t fault that anymore I guess In closing I don’t think I could ever leave UtaPri behind but all I want is what is best for my boys and hopefully their day is coming very soon Au Revoir!

[rreader]

Could you write a oneshot where the reader is the wife of Jaime Lannister and they have a son, who looks like his father. To the public, the reader and Jaime looks like the perfect couple, but behind close doors, it is a loveless, political marriage. The reader loves Jaime, but Jaime, although a good father, doesn't reciprocate her feelings (coughCerseicough). However, after many years of hardship together, he finally returns her feelings and tells her for the first time tells her he loves her.

Pairing: Jaime Lannister x ReaderFandom: GoT ; ASoIaFWarnings: mentions of abuse/torture ; language

A/N: somehow, my jaime x reader fics always end up 5+ pages and they’re filled with angst. I don’t know why, but it legit only happens with him. anyways, this was.. my god, an INCREDIBLE request. I live for these requests, I really do. I hope you enjoy it my dear!

                                                           *****

Youclosed your eyes and enjoyed the sun on your face for a moment.

King’sLanding was blessed with nice and sunny weather most of the days, butyou could rarely bathe in the sun like today.

Youwere sitting in the royal gardens, a book in your lap, while your sonand Bronn were playing sword fighting in front of you.

Youonly opened your eyes again, when you heard your son’s laughter. Hewas standing over Bronn, a triumphal smile on his face and, oh god, helooked so much like his father. It amazed you every single time.

“IWON!” he turned towards you, but right then, Bronn pulled him down and started tickling him.

“Yousure, boy?” your son laughed and tried to fight back, but he was athis uncle’s mercy.

Jaimeapproached the scene and Bronn let go of Kieran, who immediately rantowards his father. He picked him up and hugged him tightly.

Bronn kept laying in the grass and grinned, then he turned his head towardsyou.

“He’stalented, that boy.”

“Yes.I know,” you smiled kindly at the man in the grass and then got upto join Jaime and Kieran. “Husband,” you kissed his cheek.

“Wife,”he nodded and thanked Bronn for the lesson with Kieran today, thenthe three of you went towards the castle.

Kieranran in front of the two of you, so you hooked your arm with Jaime’s. Hetensed under the touch, but didn’t let it show. You could feel itthough.

Youstill wondered how he even managed to have sex with you that one time, for him to finally get his heir.

Kieran,Jaime and you joined Cersei at dinner. Those hours were the worst.

Cerseialways made sure that you’d knew your place and how much Jaime lovedher. Not you. His wife.

Youalways tried to focus on Kieran and managed most of the time.

Both you and Jaime put up a smile for everyone else and pretended tobe the happy couple everyone believed you to be. Appearences were important and all that.

Onceyou were in your chambers, that changed instantaneously. He didn’t speak or look atyou, simply went to bed. As did you. He always made sure to put asmuch space as possiblebetween you two.

Itbroke your heart, really.

Youhad been so excited when your father told you you’d be marrying JaimeLannister. And you had soon found yourself to have feelings for him.Feelings, he didn’t return and probably never would. He was a goodfather for your son though and that mattered a lot more.

Youturned your head to look at him in the dark of the night. Themoonlight was the only thing that brightened up the room a little.

“Jaime?”

Noanswer.

Yousat up and softly put a hand on his side.

“Canwe talk? Please?”

Youknew that he was only pretending to be asleep, but he still ignoredyou.

“Listen,I know that your sister doesn’t like me very much, but I’d appreciateit, if she could just leave me alone, then.”

“She’sjust jealous.”

“Ofwhat? It’s not like your touching me in any way,” you snorted.

“Youare my wife after all.”

Youplumped back into the sheets and stared at the ceiling.

“Doesn’tfeel like I am. We had sex once.. And while you’re still fucking yoursister, I am the faithful wife and hope that you one day will treatme like such.”

Hefinally turned around to look at you. So did you.

“Iwill never love you, (Y/N). My sister and son will always come beforeyou. Is that understood?”

Whata great way to make someone feel like utter shit.

You didn’t reply, simply turned your back to him and tried your hardest not to cry at hisharsh words. This certainly wasn’t the marriage you had alwaysdreamed of.

Afterthis day, you stopped trying whatever you were trying before. You didn’t talk anymore in private, if you did, then only about Kieran. 

Allhe was for you now, was the father of your son.

Orat least that’s what you tried telling yourself. Because even if you didn’t want to, you still loved him. The way he hugged his son and read him stories, the way he raised him to be a good lad with manners. 

And every night he’d come to bed and you knew that he was with Cersei, you felt like crying.

Thenext four years changed a lot of things between you two, though.

Cerseiwas starting to make decisions that not even Jaime agreed with.

Shehad always been mad, but Jaime always seemed to see the best in her.At least, until she decided that it was time for Kieran to die.

Jaimewas gone, away on some quest to either find allies, or kill the people who didn’t want to be allies. You didn’treally know, nor did you want to know. The less you knew, the better.

Kieranwas 8 now and looking more and more like his father every single day.This seemed to anger Cersei immensely. She never liked Kieran, wasjealous, that he even existed. That she wasn’t the mother of the boy that her brother fathered. As if she had an exclusive right to that.

Butthe more he looked like Jaime, the more she wanted him gone.

Youweren’t stupid, though. You’ve been in King’s Landing long enough toknow how ‘the game’ worked.

Andyou wouldn’t let her kill your son. Never.

Soyou sent a raven to Bronn, asking him to harbor Kieran for as long asit took Jaime to come back. Cersei would never touch the boy whenJaime was here. That much you knew.

Andit only took about a week, before Bronn arrived with one of his shipsand you managed to get Kieran to safety. The young boy wasn’t toohappy about being away from his mother, cried the entire way down tothe docks, actually.But you’d rather havehim cry than die.

Whenthe Mountain and three other guards came into your chambers a couple of days later, hoping to find Kieran there, you simplysmiled at them, got up from your chair, your head held high. Youknew that they’d take you instead. And you were alright with it. As long as Kieran didn’t suffer..

Theybeat you for days and Cersei kept coming down to the Dungeons to lookat you and smile. She’d ask you every day where your son was.

But once, she had been a mother, too.

Sheknew that you’d never tell her where you were hiding Kieran.

Soall she could do now, was torture you, which seemed to improve her mood a little bit. 

Youdidn’t know for how long you were down there.

Youstopped counting at one point.

Butyou knew that you weren’t gonna make it for much longer. You couldtake a lot, but you weren’t invincible.

Fortunately,you didn’t have to be.

Duringone of your torture sessions with a guard, who decided that he’d workon your face today, Jaime suddenly appeared and dragged the guardfrom your body.

Youfell back to the ground and started coughing blood.

Whileyou did that, he beat the shit out of the guard until he didn’t moveanymore. Then he crawled to you and grabbed your face to look at you.

Everythingwas swollen and he could see several scars on your body now, withyour clothes on. He was dreading to see how many were beneath them.

“Kieran..,” the fear in his voice..

Youtook a deep breath to even manage one single word. But one word was enoughto let Jaime breathe again.

“Safe..”

Hepicked you up like a bride and carried you up to your chambers.

Thiswas the first time you saw daylight in.. a long time.

Butyou weren’t really able to enjoy it. You quickly fell asleep againsthis chest and only woke up hours later when you could hear Jaime andCersei arguing.

Youfelt several bandages around your body and the wounds that previouslyhurt so much, were feeling a lot better already.

Someonehad tended to you.

Whenyou felt the bed shift, you turned your head to the right and sawJaime sitting next to you.

“I’m..sorry.”

Youdidn’t say anything. Didn’t feel like talking, but also didn’t feellike it would really work.

“Ididn’t think.. I..-” he shook his head and turned around so hedidn’t have to face you any longer. He was so ashamed of himself. Howcould he let this happen?

Youwere his wife, seven hells! He had a duty! 

And seeing you like this.. somehow, it made him understand that he had been lying to himself for a long while now. If he truly had no feelings for you, as he always claimed, this wouldn’t upset him as much as it did. Because right now, all he wanted to do was lay his head on your chest and cry and beg for your forgiveness. 

“I’vealready made arrangements. We’ll leave King’s Landing as soon asKieran is back. I’m not putting either of you in any more danger.”

Thiswas unexpected.

Youhad expected that he’d still have his sisters back, even after whathappened.

Afterall, he loved her, not you..

Right?

                                                            ***

“Mother!”Kieran screamed, running towards you and then slowing down to,carefully, hug you. Such a good boy. You were proud of the ‘man’ he was becoming. He was still a boy, after all.

Youhad been at Casterly Rock for about three months now and you wereslowly getting your strength back. Some things were still hard, butyou were getting there. At least your face wasn’t swollen anymore andyou could breathe and talk properly again.

Youplaced one hand on his head and softly brushed through his blondehair.

“Hello,my love,” he simply stayed there, his small arms around your bodyand holding you tightly. “I think your friends are waiting for you,Kieran. Go on. I’ll still be here tonight.”

“Promise?”

Oneword was enough to break your heart once more. He was so afraid tolose you. Bronn had told you that he had cried so much, that he wasso scared that you were dead and that he’d never see you again..

“Promise.”

Hequickly made his way back to his friends and they continued onplaying hide and seek.

Jaimejoined you and you both smiled at your son.

“He’sgrowing up so quickly..”

“Indeed,” you replied.

Heturned his head to look at you, but you kept your eyes glued onKieran.

Hecould still see the scars. So, so many scars that would never leave your body.

He’dalways remember his failure. How he failed to protect you. How hefailed to be a husband to the only woman that might ever have trulyloved him. 

He wished he could turn back time and fix all these mistakes.

“Stopit, Jaime. I don’t want you to pity yourself.”

“Ididn’t even..-”

“Youdidn’t have to,” you turned to face him, hands behind your back.“I’m not dead, am I?”

“Allthat happened to you.. is because of me. Because I wasn’t the man youdeserved. Because.. I was an idiot that didn’t see what was right infront of him. If I had, then I would’ve grabbed you and Kieran longago and would’ve taken you here.”

Youclosed your eyes and took some deep breaths to keep yourself fromcrying, but when he grabbed your face and you could hear that thiswas as emotional for him as it was for you, you felt the first tearsescape your eyes.

“I’ve made many mistakes in my life, (Y/N), but not being the man you deserve is the one I regret the most. I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me and I would understand if you don’t, but I need you to know that I’ll never let anything happen to you again. I am your husband. You are my wife. And.. and I.. love you.”

Thatwas enough.

Youstarted crying and he quickly pulled you close, so you were crying into hisshirt.

Andhe didn’t let go.

Notnow and not ever again.

“I love you,” he repeated.

It was so much more than a declaration of his love.

It was a promise.

[waveridden]

FIC: you’ll always be my happy ending

A love story, told through articles, transcripts, tweets, and a very popular song. Parker/Cib, celebrity AU, 1.8k.

AUcember || title lyric || Ao3

#

1. Article from Teen Vogue, Dec. 2017 issue

Fast Five: Things You Need to Know about Cib by R. Scully

Clayton James, better known as Cib, put out one of the biggest alt-pop records of the year with Songs From Every Coast. His meandering lyrics, smooth vocals, and surprising production have earned him fans around the world. He’s also notoriously private, but we here at Teen Vogue sat down with him to get five must-know facts.

Yes, he’s like that in real life. (Sort of.) It’s been a big debate between fans whether his stage persona - kind of a goof, an idiot but in a fun way - is an act or actually who he is. But he says the truth is somewhere in the middle. “I can do basic things,” Cib says, “but I think anyone who says they’re totally competent is either lying on purpose or just wrong. Like, haven’t we all microwaved silverware before? We all make mistakes, I just play them up on stage.”

His first guitar was named Sheila. “Not for any reason, I think I was going through an Australia phase. You know, the Australia phase that every kid goes through. I thought it’d be cool.” His current guitars? Annie, Melanie, Sally, and one that he says is a secret.

He hated riding bikes as a kid. “I do it all the time now,” he laughs, “but when I was a kid? Nah, dude, I fell off constantly. Crashed it more than once My balance was s***. I’m way more coordinated now. I think it’s all the choreography.”

The headband started as a joke. If you’ve seen more people wearing headbands lately, that’s no accident: that’s Cib’s brand. But he says the brand was a total accident. “My friend Steve bet me I wouldn’t,” he says, “and all it takes is one or two photoshoots, a couple of paparazzos, and bam, you have a brand.” Lucky for him, he didn’t mind leaning into it: “I think it’s a good look, don’t you?”

Mr. Mcghghy is real, and he’s not who you think he is. Easily the most popular song off Songs From Every Coast, “Dear Mr. Mcghghy” sparked waves of speculation in fans. The song is obviously a love song, written to someone who’s only ever called Mr. Mcghghy. And who is he? “Someone I was friends with as a kid,” Cib says. “We had nonsense nicknames for each other, and his was Mr. Mcghghy. He was definitely my first crush, looking back, but I don’t really know where he is these days.” And what was his childhood nonsense name? “Aw, dude, it was Cib. Of course.”

#

2. Excerpt from Song Exploder, episode: Cib - Dear Mr. Mcghghy

“Okay, first of all, because I know everyone’s asking about it: yes, Mr. Mcghghy is real, but I don’t remember his real name. When I was younger, I used to spend my summers visiting family in North Carolina - it was actually a big inspiration for this album as a whole. When I say it’s from every coast, you know, I mean it’s from every coast. East, west, Canadian, American, it’s all in here.

“But I used to go down to North Carolina for a month every year, and there was this kid who lived down the street from my family. He was a couple years older than me, and I don’t remember a lot about him, because we were kids, and kids don’t know how to pay attention to shit that’s going to be important. But he was a little older, had curly hair, and was totally okay with bratty little me dragging him on adventures all over his city. He said he’d seen it all before, but I was seeing new things, and that was part of the song.

“The nicknames just came out of nowhere. We picked our own, although I think one of my cousins had already been calling me Cib. I don’t remember why he picked Mcghghy, but he was always really, really specific about how it was spelled. I made up a song to help me remember, and you can actually hear that melody in the background of the chorus…”

#

3. Interview with The Sami Jo Show on iHeartRadio (Dec. 8, 2017)

SJ: Okay, okay, so here’s the question on everyone’s mind.

C: You sure about that?

SJ: It’s on my mind, and I think it’s a thing a lot of people are curious about. What’s your favorite song off your album?

C: Oh, f***- wait, s***, I can’t say that on air, can I?

SJ: I mean, you can say it. The people won’t hear it.

C: Good to know. I mean, I can’t pick, right? They’re all my favorite. I put a lot of time into every one of them.

SJ: Top three?

C: God, that’s still so hard! Uh, Gold Rush, because it’s f***ing catchy as all hell. Does hell get bleeped out?

SJ: Nope. Don’t kids listen to your music?

C: I mean, I say f*** on their album. I think I’m single-handedly responsible for a lot of parents teaching their kids about swear words.

SJ: Like many great artists before you.

C: And some not-so-great ones too.

SJ: Of course. So, come on, top three.

C: S***! Um… I Don’t Mind? And then Dear Mr. Mcghghy.

SJ: Oh, I was hoping you’d bring that one up. Because, as a lot of people know, Mr. Mcghghy is a real person.

C: Yeah, he is.

SJ: And you don’t know who he is?

C: I don’t know! And a lot of people think that I’m lying when I say that, that I’m just trying to protect his privacy. A few people think we’re actually secretly married - we’re not, by the way. I legit don’t know where this guy is, or what he’s up to anymore.

SJ: Do you think he’s heard the song?

C: I think it’d be hard not to, it’s kind of popular. Ugh, humble brag, gross.

SJ: And do you think he knows it’s about him?

C: Maybe! Never say never. Mr. Mcghghy, if you’re out there, hit me up. We can get coffee.

SJ: [laughing] And you can tell Cib your real last name.

C: Please! Please, god, so many people spell it wrong, your last name has to be easier to spell than Mcghghy.

SJ: What if it’s not?

C: Don’t- don’t jinx it! [laughing] Don’t cast your last name magic, Siedband!

SJ: Whoa, hold on, let’s not bring my last name into this, I haven’t done anything wrong?

C: Haven’t you? [Sami Jo laughs] Haven’t you?

#

4. A tweet from Cib (@maybeCIB) on Twitter, with replies

Clayton James @maybeCIB kinda miss North Carolina but now I’m old enough to know better

Andrea Whatt @piecesofwhatt Replying to @maybeCIB :( but what if Mr. Mcghghy is waiting for you there?!

evan @evannumbers Replying to @maybeCIB never come back to this state

Tiara, throwing sparkles @theycallmera Replying to @maybeCIB Nooooo most of NC is fine, we swear!

Parker Coppins @pcoppins Replying to @maybeCIB Did you write a song about me?

#

5. Direct Messages between @maybeCIB and @pcoppins

@maybeCIB: Dude

@maybeCIB: I think I might’ve?

@pcoppins: I think you might’ve too

@maybeCIB: how can we confirm

@pcoppins: Uh

@pcoppins: Every year you insisted on eating a ton of saltwater taffy even though you thought it was gross because you thought it’d make it easier for you to open your eyes in saltwater

@maybeCIB: Oh my god

@maybeCIB: it’s you?

@pcoppins: It’s me

@maybeCIB: no way

@maybeCIB: how’ve you been dude

@pcoppins: You keep saying my hair is curly

@maybeCIB: is it not curly anymore??

@pcoppins: No it’s definitely curly I just want to know why that matters so much

@maybeCIB: I don’t think it does

@maybeCIB: it’s just sort of whimsical

@maybeCIB: kind of my brand

@pcoppins: It always was when we were kids too

@maybeCIB: okay so

@maybeCIB: Coppins?

@pcoppins: I can’t believe you actually forgot my last name

@maybeCIB: well what did you remember about me??

@pcoppins: Apparently more than you remembered about me

@maybeCIB: well yeah that’s not hard

@maybeCIB: also sorry for, like, writing a love song about you when I haven’t seen you since I was eleven

@pcoppins: no it’s okay

@pcoppins: it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize it was about me

@maybeCIB: don’t tell me you forgot about mcghghy?

@pcoppins: Oh I remembered it I just thought it was a coincidence

@maybeCIB: really

@pcoppins: Yeah

@pcoppins: And then I heard your Song Exploder

@maybeCIB: oh my god

@pcoppins: Also for the record

@pcoppins: I live in LA now

@maybeCIB: Iiiiinteresting

@pcoppins: so you don’t have to come to NC to see me

@maybeCIB: hey so can I get your number

@maybeCIB: we should do coffee sometime

@maybeCIB: but like, nowhere obvious, because I do have fans who will drag you into a spotlight if they think you’re Mr. Mcghghy

@pcoppins: but I am

@maybeCIB: dude trust me it’d be better to save that for later

#

6. Excerpt from Star Magazine’s gossip section

MEETING MR. MCGHGHY?: Self-proclaimed “weird pop” singer CIB was spotted in L.A. this past weekend in a coffee shop with a mystery man. He’s tall, curly-haired, and as the song to Cib’s hit “Dear Mr. Mcghghy” goes, he has a starlight smile. Could this be the man who stole America’s collective hearts?

#

7. Cib’s acceptance speech for Favorite Breakout Artist, at the People’s Choice Awards

[Cib, standing in front of the podium, clears his throat and looks at a camera operator.]

“Whoa, oh my god, how much time do I have? ...ohhh, that’s not enough. Not enough. I want to say thanks to my family, to my parents, because when I said “Mom, Dad, I think I want to do music,” they both sort of went “yeah, sounds okay.” Thank you to Steve, who learned all sorts of weird music stuff and figured out how to explain it to me. Thank you to my label, thank you to my producers and co-writers and graphic designers. I don’t think most people realize what a team effort it is to make an album, but it involves so many people, and if I could name you all I would, but-”

[The orchestra begins to play, signifying time running out.]

“Ah! Ah, okay, last things, I want to thank the people, for voting for this, you did that on purpose and that’s so crazy. Thank you to all my fans, to every radio station who ever played one of my songs. And thank you to Parker, the best accidental muse I could ever have. Love you, man. Let’s go Broilers!”

[The orchestra music swells. Cib goes back to his seat, and a camera follows him. On the television broadcast, a voiceover announces what will be coming after the commercial break. Just before the feed fades out, Cib reaches his seat. A tall man with curly hair jumps out of his seat, smiling widely, and Cib reaches up, pulls his head in, and kisses him.]

[miraimisu]

Oh boy, what do we have here, I WANT ALL OF THEM jk can i request a 30 for kacchako? You're the best 💖

I think this is gonna be the toughest and shortest one out of them because this is too tight as plot-wise and… idk? It turned out to be a bit clumsy. I’ll just let my imagination fly. And you are the best hon, where did your creativity come from? WRITE ME A FIC TOO.

Bakugou Katsuki hated libraries.

This was general knowledge among all students that dared come near the blonde– which reduced the count to, like, a pair of people? which was a bit sad actually. But Bakugou didn’t mind having a lame social life as long as nobody took him to a library. He had actually tried some tutoring with Kirishima some months ago and trust him, being kicked out of the quietest place on Earth was everything but pleasant.

Today, however, he had no other option but stay there, in the jampacked library full of nerds listening to music or reading books like their life depended on it. All tables were taken around him: shelves were surrounded with people swarming for tons of emboilled wording, tables were packed to the brim with bags, sheets and notebooks. There was this lingering scent of wood, pine, and closeness around him, silence that tried to be silent but ended being composed of hushed murmurs.

He knew why,

It was because of his table.

His table had the best spot in the entire library. It was near enough to the entrance, but not as close as to let winter breezes reach him. There was a big window by his side, letting night snow be seen, but cars weren’t heard this late in the evening. It shows that Yuuei was going through it’s final exams– Bakugou had, no joke, been there from sun to sun and he was too tired to deal with people.

They whispered.

They whispered because his table was completely devoid of any people but him, everyone too scared to approach him lest he threw a tantrum over personal space and threw them off the window. The fire king was fierce, had possesion of the best table around and was undeniably untouchable.

Bakugou, again, hated libraries. They weren’t as silent as they preached to be, there was always this subtone of hushed voices that spoke no pragmatic matter, only petty gossiping that brought no good to his ears. He was easy into focusing, and quirk to do his homework, but that little toneless chatter was pestering him– hell, if he couldn’t stand Deku’s mumbling for a living, how was he going to condone such generalized murmuring all around him?

Another of his pencils broke in twain when he heard his name being pronounced among a pair of girls. Maybe his pencil breaking business was what got him so isolated. There were people sitting on the floor, as if truthfully fearful of the explosion boy.

Suddenly, a low voice came beside him.

“Can I sit here?” oh, he could recognize that voice anywhere. “All other tables are full.”

He pulled the chair out for Uraraka to take, and she gladly jumped in with a stack of hero law books tucked in his arms. She silently tidied her place with a little smile– people could only stare at her, mouths agape, as if she had dared to cross a forbidden threshold for all humankind. His response to her presence was almost inmediate and utmost unkind. “Don’t make any fucking noise, Uraraka. I can sniff your chatter urges a mile away.”

She rose an eyebrow to him. The first thing he noticed was the lack of spark in her brown pools, a evident sign of exhaustion that he had learnt to tell apart from other ocular displays of her– blinking ‘I need your help’ eyes, doe eyed ‘you’re so cool’ eyes, or the now ‘please I am tired don’t be too hard on me’ eyes, devoid of shine and only full of the brown color of her soul. Drowning in them was the only pathetic way he was willing to die

“I have better stuff to do other than talk with you, you know. As I said, I only sat here because there are no other tables available.”

“You can sit with all those fuckers down on the floor.” he stiffled in a yawn. “I don’t give a damn.”

She decided not to answer that and decided to focus on her books. Uraraka had decided to come to the library mostly because she was too tired to make her way to the dorms without getting some rest. Admittedly, she had expected to find the place empty so she could nap for a pair of minutes in a corner– her plan obviously backfired when the library ended up being full and she had no ther option but sit by Mr. FireHell Blondelocks.

As far as she was concerned, Bakugou’s dorm was being repaired due to some of his angry fits being thrown towards a wall, making his dorm look creepily open. That huge hole by his bed was all but tranquilizing. She should have known he would be in the library while his dorm was under repairations, because he couldn’t stand noise while studying and the crew taking care of his room would sure make too much of it.

Brief story: she was stuck with Bakugou until she finished her homework. And time was passing by way too slowly to her liking.

There was a moment when people started leaving the room. Stars twinkled outside the building and threw some shadows across the wooden floor, and lamps lit up the cozy place with a dim, orange light. Uraraka found this to be a bit too pleasant for her tired senses– there was a second in which her head fell a bit too down for Bakugou’s liking, who had been watching her silently as she started to doze off.

“Oi.” he nudged her rudely, and her head snapped up again. “Don’t go falling asleep on me.”

She started messing with her hair sheepishly, making Bakugou fidget uncomfortably in his seat. That antic of hers drove him insane: she was always doing it in front of everyone, in front of teachers, in front of fucking Deku. And he sometimes wondered what the fuck did that bastard have to make her so nervous when he couldn’t wake a single of her hairs up while being by far the most fearsome boy in their class.

“I’m sorry.” whispered she. He saw her grimace, keeping a yawn in– and it made him outwardly yawn, hand covering his mouth. “It’s been a rough day, today. I’ve been going from one place to another and I just couldn’t wait to crash the bed.”

And Bakugou understood the struggle. He was also fighting the exhaustion away, barely keeping it at bay and the fact that the staff had decided to royally mess with him by turning on the heat was not fucking helping. He had already removed his jacket and he was still a bit too warm to his liking. Knowing Uraraka and how sleepy she was, the fight must be tougher for her.

He shuffled a bit closer to her, feeling himself more tired than ever. “There’s not much people around.”

Her head rested on her palm now, looking at him with an interested gaze. “Mhm.”

“You can have your damn sleep, now.”

This– this startled her. He could have a heart, too? What was the world coming to that night? “Are you suggesting to keep watch on me… and actually let me have a little nap?”

“I am not gonna be your fucking babysitter.” spat he, crimsom eyes glaring at her despite the kindness within his flames. He eyed her unkempt hair and the dryness of her pretty stars, and her skin suddenly seemed paler than usual. “You look like a car ran over you. If you can’t take care of yourself I’ll have to show you how to fucking do it.”

He legit slammed her head against the wooden table, making a loud terrifying noise. Somebody could have mistaken that with a murdering attempt. Uraraka, however, laughed at his antics while watching the snowflakes drop before her. “I could use… some sleep.”

Bakugou almost didn’t catch what she said, as she was inmediately out of commision the moment her head crashed against the table. “Stupid woman.” mumbled he, taking a last glimpse at his diagrams and summaries while keeping an eye on her. Her hair was a mess, and he could tell it was bothering her.

Bakugou caressed her cheek with his fingertips and quickly brushed some strands away, the notion inmediately bringing him close to rage with this newfound feeling of intimacy. “Fuck this girl, fuck her!” he glared at her. “Fuck her in hell…”

But the way she was sleeping was kind of cute, too. Her head rested atop her hands, even breaths fanning some locks away and her face in peace for the first time in a while. He had never seen her so relaxed until now, and the image filled him with a sense of peace that he didn’t know he could feel until he stumbled with her.

His back was throbbing. He bet hers wasn’t right now.

She must be… comfortable, too.

Bakugou looked away and started cursing colorfully as he took his jacket from his spot on the chair’s back, and put it on top of her quiet body. The thought of her scent impregnating his clothes wouldn’t occur to him until midnight clocked by– and he would fall asleep thinking about her, too.

The blonde blushed, and all he could think about now was about how good a nap would be to him and how nice her warmth would be– he was half a meter away from her and he could already feel her whole self lulling him to sleep against his will.

That had to be illegal. His heart shouldn't be racing as hard as it was.

Eventually, Bakugou gave in and his head ended up on his arms too, both teens closer together than they had ever been– and Bakugou had taken her sweater as a paid back, he thought tiredly and without much logic, and draped it across his back. 

Uraraka shifted closer to him in her sleep, and he was only drawn to her scent. The sound of snowflakes melting against the windowpane made him remember that he hated libraries, but he would never hate this spot and he could forget about this hatred for a while as long as Uraraka was by him all the time, too.

She had had tons of space to sit at– floors and on top of shelves. But all tables had been full and, at the end of the day, he couldn’t find the heart to complain.

Aizawa eventually found both kids fast asleep on the table and sighed. “Man, kids these days. They grow up so fast.”

[jeonfinite]

end of the year fic meme

total number of completed stories: 5 total word count: 51225

Overall Thoughts Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? I wrote way more than I predicted bc I never thought I’d produce fic at all, but I actually published a oneshot or chapter at least once a month since june. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? I would’ve never guessed I would become 100% certified jinkook trash this yr and would’ve laughed in your face if you told me otherwise lmao. I didn’t even know who jungkook was until feb!! in fact despite always having a soft spot for bts and following all of their music releases I was like actually ‘I don’t think I’ll ever truly stan them’ lmfao. my life is a joke. What’s your own favorite story of the year? forever yours. it’s basically everything I ever want to happen in a fic. seokjin as an academy award winning actor? jinkook writing a song together? jinkook going on cute dates and continually supporting the other as they fall deeper in love? ugh my heart. the idea is so dear to me and it’s my baby. and even tho bangtan disbanded in the fic, they all found their own success and they’re rly close friends. I fucking love the ending too omg. I did my best to make it rly gratifying and make up for all the stuff jungkook went through earlier. plus I love fics based on idol/band verse, canon/divergence/future fic and I liked weaving in canon elements to it. it makes it feel more real imo.

Did you take any writing risks this year? uh, not rly? other than writing and publishing my first fic ever. and I guess actually shading big hit/bang pd lmao. as far as I know of, no one has done that before? and multiple ppl have called me brave for doing so lol. Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?

to try to write longer fics I guess. there’s this 10k fic I’ve been planning forever but still haven’t gotten around to even tho I kept meaning to write it next lol.

From my past year of writing what was… My best story of this year: definitely forever yours. honestly sometimes I feel like it’s my peak lmfao. like I will never able to match some of those descriptions ever again. whenever I’m struggling to write something and I go back to it I’m like HOW DID I WRITE THIS?? and when ppl tell me I’ve made them cry and laugh omg. I almost don’t believe it. I don’t think any of my fics have elicited such a reaction and I think it’s the one that affected me most. I hurt my own non existent heart. My most popular story of this year: forever yours lmao. not only does it have the most hits/kudos/comment/bookmarks, but it’s the fic I most often see ppl reccing, screaming about, and quoting on twitter. I love it tho. pls continue screaming about it and @ me!! The story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: lights go on again. it’s gotten the least attention of all my fics so far. idk if it’s bc ppl are sick of me already or if I rly offended that many ppl by insulting their precious bang pd oppa lmao. also yo where all the jin stans at? I thought at least they’d appreciate its contents lmao.

but also rollin’ the deep bc I actually like that one a lot now and it’s the second least popular lol. but it’s on par with light me up and I expected that based on the content. ofc the fics with jin winning an oscar and shitting on the mother/son trope would gain the most traction so I’m not surprised. The most fun story to write:

us against the world! the idea of everyone hitting on jin and jungkook getting jealous was too good to pass up. I had so much fun writing taehyung’s scene omfg. I actually started it with it lmfao and it seems like most ppl agree. hoseok’s always makes me laugh and ngl I feel like a genius whenever I reread that fic lol. :’) definitely my peak humor and probably the funniest/crackiest thing I’ll ever write.

Story with single sweetest moment?

it’s a tie with forever yours’ birthday scene and light me up’s christmas decorations. but overall rollin’ the deep made me melt the most with how overwhelming sweet it was. I live for soft sweet jinkook doing grossly romantic things for each other ok. The story with the single sexiest moment:

jungkook wearing lingerie in light me up, definitely :x tho the smut scene in forever yours is infinitely better imo. I will unfortunately never able to write a smut scene that good again but I think it’s the intimacy of the moment and the way it’s written that makes it so special, hence why I like it so much. The most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:

idk? me attempting smut even tho I’m terrible at it? quoting myself I actually said “writing sex is honestly so hard already I would never waste my time writing it just for the sake of it if it didn’t have any meaning” yet the smut in light me up was the first scene I started writing. I am a goddamn hypocrite lol. but it’s sth I thought I’d never be able to write bc a few years ago I would get so embarrassed by the idea and would want to throw myself off a cliff at the thought lol. The story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

none of them rly. I just write jinkook like I how see them. their interactions just come so naturally to me that it’s one of the easiest and most fun things to write in my fics. The hardest story to write: honestly… light me up. all my fics get rly hard to write one point and I always start off hating the first drafts bc they’re complete garbage but I fucking suffered the most writing that one. literally took fucking forever to wrangle the sex scene into what it was. it was hot ass fragmented mess that I had to slowly unravel and reorganize one sentence at a time. I didn’t even want to look at it bc it was so bad lol. and two of the most pivotal points; the lights  and lingerie were awful at first so I struggled to make them good enough to rly stand out and to a standard I was pleased with. and transitioning the first scene into the second one where jinkook kiss under the snowfall and the ending were fucking hell too. you can ask kaleidotears, I was bitching to her the entire time lmao. albeit vaguely bc I didn’t want to spoil anything. I started a month in advance bc it usually takes me that long to produce something and as the date approached closer I was lowkey panicking and almost thought I wouldn’t make it lol. The biggest disappointment:

lights go on again. not only is the reception lackluster compared to my other fics, but it’s honestly the weakest thing I’ve written so far. I’m seriously considering orphaning it but idk :( The biggest surprise: idk. I was honestly fucking shellshocked when us against the world got over 1000 hits in less than 24 hrs tho. I never expected that kind of reaction, especially for my very first ever fic. I honestly thought no one would want to read my fics lol. but also when ppl say I’m their favorite or one of their favorite authors?? like in what in the hell. I consider myself an amateur bc I have never written consistently before in my life. I’m new to the whole fic writing scene. I’ve actually spent the majority of my life hating my writing lmao. or when ppl praise things I think I’m shit at lol. I also like rollin’ in the deep a lot more than I thought I would considering it was just a dumb fluff piece to satisfy my thirst. I wrote the first 1300 words in a waiting room and I was like I don’t have to make this perfect bc it’s stupid fluff but I legit melted writing it. oh and publishing the first chapter of forever yours in two weeks after my first fic. how in the hell did I ever write 9k that quickly I will unfortunately never able to do that again.

The most unintentionally telling story:

I’m not sure what this even means? a lot of myself does bleed into my stories I think. like even if the mood varies depending on the scene I feel like my voice carries through? they just sound like me and it’s something that can’t be repicated lol. like my fics have a shit ton of cussing which is part of it lmao. but also sometimes I give jinkook aspects of myself like seokjin doing aegyo and being clingy when drunk (which is actually real omfg I’m a genius sorry) and jungkook not realizing when other ppl like him. also by reading my fics you can tell which groups I stan, what foods I like, etc. and ofc when I start waxing poetic about their looks or voices or talents that’s all me lol. Highlights + Wrap-up Favorite Opening Line(s): “And the Academy Award for Best Actor goes to… Kim Seokjin!” — forever yours; ch1 twenty four

The world is fucking taunting Jungkook.— forever yours; ch2 fiction

Jungkook feels sick. Bile mounts up his throat; it tastes like bitterness, hurt, betrayal, anger, resentment, and heartbreak, flowing through him in chaotic discord. His voice breaks underneath the staggering weight. — forever yours; ch3 smile, again

they’re all from forever yours lmao. the first one is for very obvious reasons but the other two I find the most riveting. I tend to start my fics with dialogue or with “seokjin/jungkook …” bc I’m so creative lol Favorite Closing Line(s): they lose themselves in each other until the world fades till there’s nothing but seokjin and jungkook, just their mouths and bodies and hearts uniting into one against the world. — us against the world

I’m forever yours. — forever yours

I like connecting the endings to my titles clearly lmao. but those endings are the strongest and the ones  I’m most proud of. the other ones are all kind of similar and end with jinkook in a bed saying I love you haha. Favorite 5 10 Lines from Anywhere:

it’s relatively quiet outside and the weather is beautiful; the clear, azure skies provide an obstructed pathway for the gleaming sunshine to burn the foliage in a palette of fiery crimsons, rich golds, and vibrant oranges. the oppressive summer heat has finally faded into a cool, refreshing breeze with the advent of autumn. seokjin tugs jungkook into his side for a surge of warmth as they amble towards the car, the crisp air nipping at their skin, rustling through his bunny ears, and fallen leaves crunching beneath their feet. — rollin’ in the deep

Snowfall blankets the landscape like an instagram filter, casting a creamy, dreamy lighting over the scenery. It looks like they stepped into a fairytale. — light me up

Jungkook hums sweetly, toying with the strands of hair behind Seokjin’s nape. The melody is so soft and sweet like a souffle that Seokjin wants to devour it—so he does, capturing Jungkook’s lips and licking the inside of his mouth. — light me up

The parade marches through as they eat, a symphony of prismatic floats and musical instruments decorating Main Street with whimsy. Seokjin sways alongside the music and Jungkook joins him, their bubbling giggles adding another layer of sound to the percussion. — forever yours

Seokjin is so beautiful but he’s never been more gorgeous than when his chiseled, naked body and pink strands glisten with sweat while thrusting deeply into Jungkook, dark eyes smouldering with lust and headiness, handsome face contorted in concentration intent on pleasuring Jungkook, and plush, pretty, pink mouth falling open as melodic sounds escape his lips, sweeter than his blessed high notes. It’s too much for Jungkook. — forever yours

“You’re gorgeous. My beautiful baby boy. Sweet marshmallow bunny.” — light me up

the bright white of the headband contrasts with his dark hair, haloing a soft crown of light around him, and coupled with the afterglow of his orgasm, he looks angelic. seokjin tells him as much and he flushes a pretty pink, a perfect complement to his ivory rabbit ears. — rollin’ in the deep

jungkook licks his lips as they stroll past a lone vendor selling hotteok, and when seokjin kisses him, cornering him in the enshrouding, secluded thicket of maple trees, seokjin tastes sweet like brown sugar, like cinnamon, like the warming comfort of fall spices and home-baked treats. — rollin’ in the deep

It’s empty this late at night, their only company being the summer breeze rustling through their clothes and the mild rippling of the waves. The water glitters beautifully underneath the stars in the darkness but it pales in comparison to the way the moonlight dances off Seokjin’s freshly dyed pastel hair to illuminate his gorgeous features. He looks magical, bright eyes sparkling and pink strands shimmering. — forever yours

The kiss is everything Jungkook dreamed and fantasized about but beyond his imagination. Seokjin tastes like coffee and chocolate and cream, their dessert lingering on his tongue, and Jungkook licks up every last morsel of flavor. He can’t get enough; Seokjin is so sweet and soft and warm against him like a freshly baked cake. He’s addicted. He wants more. — forever yours

also the iconic:

“Fuck PDogg hyung and Bang PD hyung” — forever yours

you know what this is too fucking hard. I’ll do a separate post with my top 5 lines from each fic. these are just 10 lines I’m particularly fond of and rly wanted to highlight bc no one else has.

Top 5 Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated:

1. JUNGKOOK WEARING LINGERIE AND BUNNY EARS but particularly the part with jungkook sitting on seokjin’s lap growling he’s sexy and seokjin laughing at him for being adorable. literally if my drawing skills were good enough and I had a tablet I would fucking illustrate this myself

2. seokjin gifting jungkook diamond studs on the balcony underneath fairy lights and the seoul night sky

3. jinkook kissing under the snowfall and surrounded by christmas lighting + decorations

4. jinkook holding hands while walking outside in the fall foliage and seokjin kissing jungkook in a thicket of maple trees

5. JINKOOK PERFORMING THEIR FUCKING DUET AT JUNGKOOK’S SOLO CONCERT

+ bonus sakura petals swirling around seokjin with seokjin cornering jungkook against a tree to swipe stray ice cream off his lips and licking it off his thumb and watching the fireworks at disneyland with seokjin’s head nestled onto jungkook’s shoulder and arms wrapped around his waist.

Fic-writing goals for 2018: to finally write the ideas on my ever growing list. my last three were completely unplanned and were random spur of the moments. but I wanted to write something for jin’s bday. I could’ve written something short from my list but I wanted to do christmas lights and jungkook in lingerie so :x also to take my sweetass time until I’m perfectly happy with everything before publishing and not rushing out fics anymore. I’ve learned that when I try to write something as fast as possible for others—it goes wholly unappreciated like the last chapter of forever yours and light me up. like half of the original commenters disappeared despite finally getting the happy ending they cried for and being so excited for the fic? lol idk what happened but there’s no way I could’ve messed up the last chapter that badly… but yeah it’s just not worth the stress lmao. ppl just don’t understand the effort, time, and pain it goes into producing something.