#that white man’s fan are rotten to the core

[thesimoneashley]

this is gonna be a long rant so fair warning:

Having been in the 🐝 fandom since before season 1, I've seen fandom fights come and go. Despite not often engaging in fandom discourse, the exposure of what is rotten in some parts of the fandom thanks to anons at @waitingforeddyneddy and the latest shadyness thrown at Simone and Simone fans made me do this post for my followers. I am not tagging this because I know these vile people love to go around doxxing and bullying.

Before anyone considers harassing or bullying me as well, I want to clarify that I am not friends with Annie, nor do I follow her. However, I appreciate her blog and some anons for exposing some of the nasties within this fandom. It reinforces my belief that certain JB fans have a superior complex and put this yt man (and themselves as “the better fans”) on a ridiculous high pedestal.

It's disgusting to continuesly see people labeled unfairly, like being called "homophobic" for not stanning JB or “racist”for whatever other reason (mainly because they are a fan of Simone but apparently they are not “right” enough).

I used to think JB and SA fans where a unit but ever since S2 dropped the shadyness from JB fans hasn’t stopped, it has increased.

So I am saying this:

If you’re one of those supporting the nasty and passive aggressive comments from certain JB Stans who claim Simone “hasn’t said shit about Kanthony S3” and “only talked about the KA dance a year ago and that was her only statement”, disregarding her numerous interviews from the past year, compared to JB's one time interview about S3 KA in April last year; if you believe Jonny's vague “we are back”qualifies him as the K*nthony king where he couldn’t even name drop his leading lady nor her character and you insist on policing anyone rightfully calling Simone the “K*nthony stan queen” (or whatever name 😂)due to your hurt ego as a JB fan; if you engage in sending death threats and hateful messages to @waitingforeddyneddy or anyone who is not a fan of your damn white as chalk man, if you are joking about “Simone's (un)employment” and calling her boyfriend all sorts of names; if all this aligns with your behavior, please unfollow me now and go f*ck yourself.

I may not support everything discussed over there, but thanks to that blog’s anons, I've become aware that some Simone fan sites (some whom I used to follow and support) are involved with or even instigating negativity. I hope you feel ashamed of calling her boyfriend ugly or harassing her fellow stans, or make fun of people supporting her just because you don’t like them while also having the audacity to dictate Simone on her own instagram how, when and what to post. What a big ass hypocrite and disgusting person you and your friends are.

To those love to claim that Simone's fans behavior reflect poorly on her and the fandom (I quote “this is why everyone hates SA fans”), you would benefit from taking a moment to reflect on everyone’s individual behavior including your own. JB fans, look no further than to your mutual stans who tell SA fans they wish they “got aborted”. All for your yt man who will never f*ck you. Your sick in the head.

And for anyone who wants to know what piece of worthless scum there is among the JB / (k)*nthony fandom read through the anons from the blog by @waitingforeddyneddy

Trigger Warning: I hope those with braincells in the JB fandom understand that I'm not generalizing all fans as a whole.

Everyone else playing superior while stanning that yt man:Wishing you a change of attitude.

I am linking this post pinned to my blog since Season 2 dropped.It features (TW for the ego hurt) THE ONLY interview from JB in April 2022 about KA S3 he ever gave since the show dropped contrasting with numerous instances where Simone(the Queen of Kan*hony;))))), has discussed KA. You are welcome to shut tf about now.

Edit: you are also f*cked up to think JB telling some random stalker fan he “loves” Simone means they are secret besties or whatever. Talking about parasocial.

#fandom bullies #fandom drama #Jb Fans are the worst #the problem #with (k)Anthony fans #not finding that yt man hot makes me homophobic check #that white man’s fan are rotten to the core

[mangekyuou]

Hi! I’m such a gigantic fan of yours and I was wondering if I could request One Piece’s Tesoro x Chubby Fem Bimbo Sugar Baby reader??? Like he just spoils her rotten and keeps her obvious to the slave stuff? Maybe he looses his temper with her at some point and it’s an obviously toxic relationship cause he manipulates her? Nsfw??? IDK, sorry for being specific I just love how you write 🥺🥺🥺

✸  now playing  . . .     GOLDEN STAR。

✸  pairing! . . .  f!reader x gild tesoro.

✸  type of love! . . .  romantic.  physical.

✸  cw(s)! . . .  depictions of toxic relationships. angst. age gap. ( reader is early 20s ) nsfw. she/her pronouns used. afab!reader. ( “cunt” / “core” used to describe genitals among others ) fingering. not proofread. minors DNI.

✸  wc! . . .  1.2k.

✸  notes! . . .  not my best and i didn’t go full full smut. i hope that’s okay. sorry this took so long !! i hadn’t even seen film gold until i got your request but i’m glad i decided to watch it. i had a fun time !! also thank you so much for enjoying my work !! i hope i did you justice <333

“I knew I’d find you out here.”

Out on the balcony, leaning against the gold railing was a young woman nursing a pink mimosa. She was wearing a ruffled white mini skirt that rested high on her thighs and a gold glitter halter top because gold was his favorite color.

She sniffled softly. With her free hand, she tried to wipe away the tears and running mascara that was starting to stain her face. ( y/n ) straighten up, not looking back. She already who was standing in the door frame, and she didn’t want him to see her like this.

Though he had already known she had cried.

He was the cause of it.

Tesoro stepped out onto the balcony, standing next to her. “Please look at me.” His tone was much different than before. It was soft, kind, and caring. That was the tone of the man she had known and recently fallen in love with.

He took her face into his hand, reaching into his pocket with the other to grab a handkerchief. He gently wiped away the rest of the mascara the best he could, “My lovely star, I’m so sorry for losing my temper. I just...I don’t want them to take you away from me.”

Parties happened every night all across the Gran Tesoro, it’s how she happened to meet Tesoro. She was new to the ship, coming from an island far out with a few close friends. He had spotted her from across the room, clearly in an uncomfortable situation with a few guys who didn’t know how to read body language.

And he came to the rescue. If the Gold Emperor tells you to beat, you beat it. To make it up to her, he gave her friends and her drinks on the house and invited them to the VIP section back with him. She found the gesture sweet, not thinking much of it. Hell, who wouldn’t want to drink with the wealthiest man around?

She wasn’t expecting to land herself in a situationship with a man nearly twice her age, exchanging her company for riches, clothes, jewelry, anything her pretty mind could think of. More importantly, she wasn’t expecting to have to choose between her friends and the man who was giving her everything she ever dreamed of.

Her friend expressed concern, telling her that he did not have her best interests in mind. Reminding her that he WANTED her to depend on him so she would have nowhere to go. Begging her to open her eyes and look behind the golden curtain to see the truth.

( y/n ) was beginning to see the light, to question Tesoro and his motives. Nearly beginning to see the golden cage she was trapped in. She returned to her apartment, where he sat waiting for her in the living room. With her friend’s words in the back of her mind, she finally spoke up.

“Tesoro...I want to go home.”

“Home? My beautiful star...this IS home.”

“No, I want to go HOME. I want to leave. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

She had never seen him so upset, so angry, so scary. He would get mad, but not like this. He stood up from his place on the sofa, trudging over as she backed herself into the wall. He towered over her, a unclear mix of rage and sadness filled his eyes. And for the first time, he raised his voice at her, “You’re not leaving me, EVER! Do you hear me?! You BELONG to me, ( y/n ).”

He stopped himself from reaching out to shake her, storming out of her apartment and leaving her alone.

Now she stood on her balcony, looking up into his gentle eyes as he wiped away her mascara as if nothing had happened. “I’m sorry, my dear,” He apologized once more, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Don’t say it. Don’t say it...

“It’s okay, Tesoro. I know, I shouldn’t have...I’m sorry.” 

From her forehead, he led a trail of gentle kisses down her face, all the way down to her neck. “Is this a new outfit? I don’t remember this top...or this cute little skirt.”

Feeling his lips on the bare skin of her neck, she couldn’t hide the smile on her face. She tilted her head to allow him more access to her neck, “I went shopping yesterday. Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it,” He grinned against her hot skin, “I love it so much, I want to keep you in it.” His calloused hand had run up the skin of her thighs, sliding underneath her skirt. “You’re just barely covering yourself with this little skirt. You just want other men to look at you, huh?”

“N-No! I only want you to look at me, no one else,” She stammered out a confession. He removed himself from her neck, making sure to look her in the eye. Her words were genuine, she was wrapped around his ring finger, what she had feared the most.

He took her glass from her head, placing it on a nearby table. “Let me take care of you,” He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. He removed his hand from her thigh, bringing it up to his mouth to coat it in his saliva. She watched desperately, watching his thick fingers pop out of his mouth, a trail of saliva still connecting them. He lowered his hand, slipping it into her panties and into her hot core.

“Ah…” She whined, burying her own head in his neck as he wasted no time roughly pumping three fingers in and out of her at a fast pace. His fingers had curled inside of her, hitting all the right places. He knew her body inside out.

He knew exactly what she needed, what made her feel like she was on cloud nine. Only he could make her feel this good, only his fingers could give her the fill that she needed, only he could fill her sexual appetite.

He could hear her pretty mewls begin to hike up, a deep burning that burned so good was forming in the pit of her stomach. She began to clench around his fingers, oh how he loved it. “Ask,” He demanded.

“May I cum, Tesoro?” She cried into his neck.

He smirked, “Very well. Cum for me.”

Her body wrenched as she cried into his skin. Her juices coated his fingers, as he rode out her orgasm carefully. As he slid his fingers out of her, a soft moan left her lips. He sucked his fingers clean, intoxicated by her taste. He loved it so much. “Such a beautiful star.” As she tried to catch her breath, he helped her lean against the railing before dropping to his knees before her.

He pressed wet kisses to her inner thighs while running his hands up and down her thighs. “I love you, ( y/n ).”

“I…love you too, Tesoro.”

As the golden curtain closes, the star is still trapped on this stage…his stage.

© MANGEKYUOU. /  ☻

#if it's bad ??? IM SORRY #one piece #gild tesoro #tesoro #gild tesoro x reader #tesoro x reader #one piece oneshots #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece smut #night rather than day ── 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰. 𓂃 ★☆

[that-one-asian1]

To anyone who supports Amber Heard,

Fuck all y’all. Every one of you are the reason why this world is a little worse. So blinded by your own stupidity.

Yes, Johnny Depp is not perfect and he wasn’t the best partner, I get that and understand so you can’t come in with the “you’re just a crazy fan” blah blah blah.

He is a deeply flawed human being. But he is not an abuser. He abused drugs and alcohol, and still might, but that’s NOT the same. Drugs alter a person, but at the heart of it Johnny is a good man who made bad descisions.

Amber heard, at the end of the day, is the abuser. Her witnesses have no stand, her “professional witnesses” are everything but professional, and everyone except y’all see it. Amber Heard has a history of abuse and other despicable behavior. She is a gaslighter, manipulative, and downright an awful human being that even her own parents don’t support. She’s rotten at her core.

So, if you support Amber Heard, I’ll just assume you’re just like her and don’t like to be called out. Or, you’re so deep in licking your own asshole that you can’t stand that a rich, white man is standing up for himself and using himself as a model for other male victims. Oh wait, he’s not a poor POC, boo hoo I guess he doesn’t matter.

Anyways

Respectfully?

Fuck y’all and I hope your bed gets shit on 😘

#anti johnny depp #anti amber heard #amber heard #johnny depp #johnny depp vs amber heard #fuck any of y’all you can block me #i don’t care I hope a cockroach crawls up your asshole #i forgot there’s people who still support abusers #justice for johnny depp #fuck amber heard

[realcatalina]

What I find strange about TSP is that they sold Catherine as "girlboss", "woman in power" in the promotion of the series. And talking a lot about Isabella, but they put Catherine despising Mary because she was a girl? As, she loved her daughter the minute she was born, she invested in her education to the point of encouraging her ladies to do the same for their daughters. How did they find it good to write Catherine as a bad mother to Mary?

Real Catherine loved her daughter despite her sex and them presenting it other way around, is one of the points I hate the most about the TSP. But why did this happen, why did they write her as bad and sexist mum?

Frankly, because the whole tv show was written by people with very twisted view of the world and values.

Catherine is supposedly heroine in their mind-so all her actions are excuseable, all her wrongdoing.

Who thinks this way? I am by no mean an expert in psychoanalysis, but after watching youtube channel on narcisism-it very much sounds to me as production or writing of TSP was lead by female who was/is a narcisist. Imo.

How do I know it is female? Well, given the amount of toxic feminism and amount of hate against men in the tv show, I think man is highly unlikely. Though I can be wrong.

Narcisists often have strong opinions of what they consider 'good-behaviour' and it comes with excusing any and every bad behaviour if the person is your white list(people who you like) and not forgiving anything even tiniest mistake if person is on your black list(people who you don't like). Narcisist crave attention(it gives them fuel) and don't really care if the attention is possitive or negative.

So supposedly Catherine is on white list-all she does is gold and saintly. Henry is blacklisted-he is rotten to core and everybody else who don't help Catherine. But rest they all admire and love Catherine!

But actually, narcists never truly admires anybody but themselves. They just pretend they do. Just as Tudor fans do, narcisist can also have strong emotions about Tudors.

They are all more influencal, more known than this tiny narcisist can ever be. We love them, we hate them, we argue about them. In other words in narcisist's mind we are giving the fuel which should rightfully belong to the narcisist(our attention) to this historical dynasty. And narcisist is jealous of it.

And whole tv show is imo is one big sabotage of Tudor dynasty. Jealous rant of narcisist, who twists things so badly, that we start to question whetever or not we should love those historical figures. All while pretending to have the best intentions and trying to give us true picture. While never bothering to even fallow the timelines. Or to not have stupid mistakes at script, which should have never made the final cut.

Actually the person behind this tv show is jealous of Catherine and secretely hates her. I have no other explanation for it. Because even the most ardent fan of Anne Boleyn never claim that Catherine was horrible mum! And btw, not just to Mary in TSP, but to her other children as well.

To narcisist childrens(even their own) are props-tools to use to get sympathy, to get admiration, to get fuel. And that is how in TSP children were used-as tool for plot-they should love their mummy and forgive years of neglect when needed and drop dead when needed.

What kind of mother puts her child on cold floor and leaves him there asleep to catch cold or pneumonia(which could kill him)? Worst kind!

If they set that scene in winter(during which that child actually died), then the prince being left on cold stone floor and Catherine raising up after hours from prayer and finding him dead, could be taken as him freezing to death-because she put him there!

And tbh, some churches are so cold even during the hot summer days, that I am not entirely sure we can spare the Catherine in TSP of the blame for her son's death. Yes, the whole scene is untrue and it is not very obvious, but if you think about it if we go with their narrative-her actions might have at least contributed to his death. And whole Flodden absurdity is yet another example of child-endangerement.

That is how narcisist honours their hero who they secretely hate.

By putting lots of tiny things to hate about the character into the story, which seem not so bad at beginning, but as whole create picture of true monster.

That is my opinion.

#catherine of aragon #the spanish princess tv show #i still hate it #katherine of aragon #catalina of aragon

[robininthelabyrinth]

How about a canon divergence where wen qing doesn't bump into wwx but instead bumps into nhs and nmj. Would it be a tragedy or a fixit? Would nhs temper nmj's hatred for wens? Would nmj act honorably at seeing the old men and women and children doing hard labor or would he only see the clan he hates?

1

It was Nie Huaisang’s fault, probably. Someone tripped over someone else’s feet, and then he apologized and she apologized and then they both apologized, and then there was the whole “you go first, no you go first” dance and anyway eventually Nie Mingjue stormed over to yell at his younger brother for wasting time. He took one look at the ash-faced girl, caught her by the shoulder and said, “Aren’t you that Wen Qing? I used to see you at discussion conferences – what are you doing here?”

The whites of her eyes showed in her terror, and he scowled fiercely. “I don’t slay unarmed women or children outside of combat,” he said. “The question was literal – what are you doing here? The Jin sect said they resettled the remnants of the sects somewhere they wouldn’t make trouble.”

Wen Qing pressed her lips together, then couldn’t help herself and snarled, “If you call hard labor camps where everyone dies ‘resettled’ – they took away my baby brother! They took me to another city, I didn’t want to leave him, but I didn’t have a choice and when I returned…my brother’s as soft as yours – they’re going to kill him!”

Nie Mingjue’s scowl deepened, and his eyes flickered over to Nie Huaisang, the words ‘hard labor’ clearly ringing through his mind and struggling with his deep and abiding hatred for the Wen sect, the memories of Nie Huaisang being snatched away from him and sent to an indoctrination camp to be used as live bait. The very reminder of it made his face black in anger. 

Nie Huaisang looked between the two of them and covered his face with a fan. “Dage,” he said, and his voice helped break through the haze of anger. “Maybe we should – check?”

It’s not like we trust the Jins, given the way they want to be the next Wens, he meant, and maybe there’s a little bit of Isn’t our sect’s guiding principle to stamp out evil wherever it’s encountered, human or not?

2

“Sect Leader Nie, I demand an explanation!” Jin Guangshan shouted. “You cannot barge into my territory, threaten my sect’s disciples, take away the prisoners won at war –”

“I’m not so blind as to tell the difference between captivity and torture unto death,” Nie Mingjue snarled in return, not even slightly moved. “Not only did I take the prisoners from Qiongqi Path, I demand you turn over every other one you have, no matter where –”

“Those were legitimately captured prisoners of war! We took them instead of spoils –”

“If the allocation of every penny matters so much to you, you may have the spoils seized by my Nie sect in exchange,” Nie Mingjue said, flicking his sleeve disdainfully. It couldn’t be more obvious what his implication was: that the Jin sect, despite all its riches, cared more for money than for honor.

Jin Guangshan’s eyes narrowed. “It’s most unlike you to get up in arms defending Wens, Sect Leader Nie; wasn’t it just yesterday that you called them all Wen-dogs and sought their utter destruction?”

Nie Mingjue sneered at him, but he continued, oily smile spreading on his face like a stain, “It couldn’t be that Sect Leader Nie has changed his implacable mind so quickly – perhaps it is the pressure of war on a man so young…you should take care for your health, make sure you’re not being unduly confused. People in your family die so very young, after all.”

“Enough nonsense,” Nie Mingjue said, eyes very nearly red in anger. “If my mind is so unclear, why did you choose to follow me during battle? When Wen Ruohan threatened, you dithered and delayed, and when there was no other choice but war, my blade was strong enough for you to hide behind, but when we have peace you rush to the front to claim a position that shouldn’t even exist – no one should be Chief Cultivator, Sect Leader Jin, no sect placing themselves and their own interests above another’s! But if the alternative is you, perhaps I should strive for it after all!”

3

“Is your brother actually going to try to be Chief Cultivator?” Wen Ning asked Nie Huaisang shyly; he was the only Wen currently inside the Unclean Realm, on account of needing heal his injuries. The remainder were all living in a small valley not far away where Nie sect cultivators kept a close watch.

Nie Mingjue hated injustice above all else, even Wens, but only by the smallest margin; in their new homes they were given food and water and medicine, but not freedom. Too many cultivators, male or female, had hidden themselves among the helpless to launch sneak attacks and assassinations; even children could carry a knife and swear to avenge their fallen parents.

Those like Wen Qing were watched most of all – she led one of the Supervision Offices that everyone had so hated, and she did nothing to stop them; she was indifferent to evil, and to Nie Mingjue that was very nearly the same as evil. It was only that the war had been officially ended that held back his hand; if they had still been at war, he would have executed her without so much as blinking an eye.

Still, Wen Qing had told Wen Ning that she was pleased with their current situation. A true prisoner of war camp, however strict, meant that they would be kept safe from all those who sought personal revenge, and Wen Ning couldn’t help but agree that the trade was worthwhile. The Jin had all but sold opportunities to those who wanted to get in a kick at their fallen bodies, just to say they’d been involved in the Sunshot Campaign; the Nie sect had those types of people, too, glaring and hateful, but the Sect Leader’s military discipline made them too afraid to do anything more than raise angry voices – and what were angry voices, compared to angry hands?

After all, if they’d come even a few shichen later – if Nie Mingjue hadn’t already known where the Wens were being kept, due to his position as sect leader, and been able to fly there on his sword at full speed – it would have been too late for him. Wen Ning didn’t even recall exactly what had happened, but two of them had been beating him and the chief inspector hadn’t stopped them, only told them to be sure to throw his body over the cliff when they were done with him…

“No, of course not,” Nie Huaisang said, pretending to be busy by his side. He had no skill at medicine, but it was a way to spend his time that his brother approved of and wouldn’t interrupt, so he came as often as he could. “He hates the idea, thinks it’s rotten to the core – like we’re all a bunch of sheep, needing a shepherd. No, he’s just saying it to annoy and distract Jin Guangshan. Besides, imagine if they made the position inheritable; that would make me the next one, and wouldn’t that be terrible for everyone?”

4

“The children young enough not to remember may join the Nie sect as guest disciples, if they wish,” Nie Mingjue said, his tone brooking no argument. “The adults will remain as they are.”

Wen Qing crossed her arms. “There aren’t many cultivators left among us, and it’s fine for all of those - they’d be happy to take up a life farming,” she said. “But those of us who are already on the path of cultivation should not be stymied –”

“You mean your brother, Wen Ning.” Nie Mingjue had some natural sympathy for her position, due to having his own weak-willed younger brother, but not very much. “No. In the end, he’s a Wen; we will not raise snakes to bite us later.”

“What wrong can you put on my brother’s shoulders beyond his surname?” she challenged. “What evil does he have?”

“Indifference to evil –”

“He was hardly indifferent!” she snapped, pushed beyond her limits. “I told him to do nothing, me, and yet he wouldn’t listen, time and time again. He kept Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng hidden after the destruction of the Lotus Pier, smuggled the latter out, even carried him out on his own back, and if that wasn’t enough, he collected what he could of the Jiang masters’ ashes for them – later, when Wei Wuxian asked me for help, he even –!”

She suddenly seemed to realize she’d said too much and shut her mouth.

Nie Mingjue looked at her thoughtfully. “You’ve already said this much,” he said. “There’s no point in stopping now. What did Wei Wuxian ask you to do?”

5

“Shh, don’t tell anyone I’m here,” Nie Huaisang said, gesturing for Wen Ning to join him in the closet where he was hiding.

Wen Ning, still a little uncomfortable in his new Nie robes, confusedly obeyed, even though he was still sweating from saber practice – he’d had to start over, alongside the children, but to his surprise he’d found that the straightforward brutality of the saber suited some secret resentful part hidden inside of him that wanted nothing more than to chop up everything he saw. “W-what’s going on? Why are we h-hiding? We’re in the Unclean Realm. What can harm us here?”

“Feelings,” Nie Huaisang said. “They’re the worst. My poor brother has to sit out there and listen to it directly, too – the burdens of being Sect Leader. I’m glad it’s not me.”

Wen Ning blinked. “Oh,” he said. “Are Wei-gongzi and Jiang-gongzi still fighting?”

“No, they’ve moved on to crying.”

“They were crying while they were fighting.”

“Yes, well, now they’ve moved to the just crying stage. There’s been lots of hugging, too; they stop for half a breath and then set each other off again, it’s awful. Can’t they be all manly and stoic like we Nie?”

Wen Ning gave Nie Huaisang a doubtful look.

“Well, me excluded, of course,” Nie Huaisang said with a laugh and a wave of his hand. “And anyway, even I only like crying when it’s going to get me something. Or out of something!”

Wen Ning suddenly felt as if he understood much more about his new Sect Leader’s endless frustrations with his younger brother. “But why are you hiding?” he asked.  

“I have a reputation of avoiding work to maintain,” Nie Huaisang said, totally puzzlingly, but a few moments later there was a knock at the closet door.

“Huaisang, I know you’re in there. Get out of there and have an emergency,” Sect Leader Nie said. “Anything, as long as it requires my personal attention, and have it happen as soon as their sister, the young madam Jin, arrives – that’ll just set them all off again, especially as she’s pregnant.” A pause. “Do you think I can order Wen Qing to handle this as part of the terms of her parole?”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wen qing #wen ning #my fic #my fics #Anonymous

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH58

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 58: Purgatory Reunion (X)

Mrs?

This familiar address reminded Qi Leren of someone—Mrs Kathleen. One of the powerful figures in the Village of Dusk’s Slaughter Secret Society branch, Qi Leren had used the identity of "Red" to go undercover there, and had infiltrated the Slaughter Secret Society through her. She and her subordinate, Ashley, had left a deep impression on him, especially after he learned that they had escaped pursuit of the Trials Court.

The Nightmare World was so big, Qi Leren hadn't expected to meet her in the Underground Ant City.

Not good, Qi Leren thought. Mrs Kathleen must have a grudge against his "betrayal" and "utilization" in those days. Now she had sent someone to invite him fair and square. She wasn’t surprised that he had come here.

If she was not strong enough, she could pretend that she hadn’t seen him. That she had invited him meant she needed him for something.

Qi Leren has a guilty conscience and couldn't help thinking about a strategic retreat...

His hand was gently shook, and Qi Leren jolted. It suddenly occurred to him that this time he wasn’t alone.

He still had Ning Zhou!

When a man fights for too long, he thinks of solving any problems by himself, because when in danger, he can't pin his hopes on others. The only person he can rely on is himself.

This was a kind of maturity, but it was not a kind of helplessness. If someone can be a little prince and a little princess in a castle all their life, who would want to face the ups and downs of the outside world alone? After all, the wind was cold enough to bite at one’s skin, and the rain was violent enough to break through their armor.

Qi Leren raised his head and looked at Ning Zhou. Ning Zhou's eyes behind the mask also looked at him. It was a firm and indomitable look. He suddenly felt at ease. Maybe he would encounter difficulties and dangers, but as long as Ning Zhou was by his side, he would have endless courage.

Relieved, Qi Leren turned back and smiled at the manager who had invited them: "What are you waiting for? Lead the way."

　　&&&

They went up the stairs through a hidden door in the underground casino. The decor on the second floor was no longer a decaying and old gambling house, but a clean and tidy reception room. The white marble floor was gleaming, but the sofa where someone should sit was empty.

The manager pulled open the curtain of the reception room. Behind the curtain, there was a translucent curtain of light that rippled like a water’s surface, making the figure behind the curtain blurred, but it was still faintly visible that it was a woman's appearance, which was the long-lost Mrs Kathleen.

"That group of desperate gamblers are all rotten to the core, aren't they?" The woman behind the scenes laughed and made no secret of her contempt for this group of gamblers.

"It's a perfect match for a fugitive with her head hidden," Qi Leren also laughed.

This was really mean. When Qi Leren switched to his "Red" persona, his speech was much more vicious than usual, and most of the time it can be called malicious provocation.

"...Long time no see, Mr. 'Red', you still have the same style, still so... sharp-toothed and clever-tongued."

"But you’ve become secretive." Qi Leren smiled mockingly, took Ning Zhou, and sat down on the sofa in an ostentatious manner. He looked at Mrs Kathleen behind the curtain with his fingers still writing in Ning Zhou’s palm behind his back: Barrier, with a question mark added.

He wanted to know whether Ning Zhou could break this barrier enchantment.

"Necessary caution can save people's lives at critical moments, such as when the Trials Court encircled the Slaughter Secret Society branch." Mrs Kathleen's tone was light, but she was careful, full of the malicious intent of wanting to kill someone quickly.

Ning Zhou's reply was simpler than Qi Leren's. He only drew a check mark in his hand.

The light touch made Qi Leren's hand shiver, and he almost lost control of his tone.

"So you hide yourself behind an 'absolutely safe' barrier, and then tell your poor men to prepare to catch both of us?" Qi Leren laid out her plan bluntly.

Mrs Kathleen chuckled and took a sip of black tea before slowly saying, "A safety barrier is very important. For example, this one in front of you is enough to stop all attacks below a half-field."

Mrs Kathleen was full of confidence in the security of this enchantment, and also full of confidence in beating these two people. It had only been a month or two since the Slaughter Secret Society’s Village of Dusk branch collapsed. At that time, she had witnessed "Red’s" strength and that of the exorcist who cooperated with him.

Absolutely less than half-field level, otherwise the Slaughter Secret Society branch would have been completely annihilated.

These days, Mrs Kathleen, who had been pampered for many years, was resentful. She used to live a secret but comfortable life in the Village of Dusk. Her subordinates flattered her, supported her, and pinned their hopes for survival on the seeds of slaughter she gave them, but all this was ruined by this person.

She had to flee with the only surviving subordinate, Ashley, to the strange Underground Ant City. If she hadn't happened to meet a past lover in the lower city, and the lover happened to have a certain degree of power, she would be in a worse situation now.

However, how could a cautious life be compared to the reckless life she had previously had? Ashley, her only subordinate, was still missing.

Mrs Kathleen frowned. She could sense her subordinate, and was sure that he was still alive. But another horrible and evil force had cut off her control over her subordinate. She could only vaguely feel that Ashley was still in the Underground Ant City, but she didn't know what had happened to him...

"I'm not interested in your enchantment. If you wanted to kill me you could have already tried, instead of hiding your head in a turtle shell. Tell me, what do you want with me?" Qi Leren asked lazily.

"What about you? What did you come here for?" Mrs Kathleen asked.

"I'm looking for someone." Qi Leren has no intention of hiding.

"Looking for a gambler? I don’t believe it." Mrs Kathleen chuckled. "I’m guessing you're looking for the Court’s missing informant, the guy who came here the other day to inquire about the gambler."

Sure enough! The Court’s informant who came to investigate the Illusionist’s disappearance fell into Mrs Kathleen’s hands.

"Oh, what about him?" Qi Leren asked.

"Don't worry, you can see him soon," Mrs Kathleen said softly, fiddling with the feather fan in her hand.

Qi Leren's heart sank. It was likely that the informant's situation wasn’t good. However, it was also possible that Mrs Kathleen was using him, the informant of the court, and she couldn’t kill him until she drained the information from him.

"But I'm curious, the Illusionist unexpectedly also came to the Underground Ant City, also came to the casino; what is he doing here? Are you still chasing me?" asked Mrs Kathleen.

Qi Leren narrowed his eyes. It seemed that the informant who came to find the gambler to verify the Illusionist’s whereabouts had confessed this matter, so Mrs. Kathleen was wary, and she had found a barrier enchantment from who knows where to protect her own safety. She also arranged manpower in the underground casino. As a result, there was no new information about why the Illusionist had gone missing after leaving for the Dragon Ant Queen’s palace. Instead, Ning Zhou and Qi Leren had just gotten tied up in Mrs Kathleen’s issues.

Alas, this was really a pitfall of miscommunication.

"Think of it as him going shopping," Qi Leren said lightly.

Mrs Kathleen choked a bit, then laughed angrily: "What about you, what are you doing in the Underground Ant City?"

Of course, Qi Leren couldn't speak about the facts, but he couldn’t casually say something that wouldn’t make sense...

Beside him, Ning Zhou suddenly moved. This move made Qi Leren's mind flash. He leaned over Ning Zhou's neck in confusion and smiled at Mrs. Kathleen behind the curtain: "We came for our honeymoon!"

Mrs Kathleen: "..."

Ning Zhou: "???"

Mrs. Kathleen, who felt teased and humiliated, finally couldn't sit still. She stood up from her chair and snapped, "Since you don't want to say anything, go to hell and say it!"

With her furious voice, the door of the sitting room was violently kicked open, and a group of thugs rushed in, most of whom were strong lower demons. They surrounded the two people on the sofa, but did not rush to start attacking.

"Actually, it won’t take so many people to deal with you two." Mrs Kathleen smiled haughtily and clapped her hands. The barrier between her and them changed its shape, and began to expand from a curtain of light. In just a few seconds, it turned into a sheet of light, trapping them inside.

"This enchantment can protect people, and of course it can trap people. This is a half-field item. Although I can't use cards like you foreigners, items are still useful. I have to say that there are some interesting things..."

Mrs Kathleen's arrogant words hadn't been finished yet before Ning Zhou, who was gaining speed, had already waved out his sword—

The low-key and restrained Sword of Judgment swept away the light curtain. Before it, the light curtain, which was strong enough to resist all attacks below a half-field, was just like ordinary glass, and instantly fell apart.

The broken pieces of the light curtain were falling, and Mrs Kathleen's stunned expression behind the barrier seemed to freeze at this moment. Her horror and disbelief twisted into a clown-like expression on her face.

"Do it, do it!" She suddenly came to her senses, screaming and shouting.

The lower demon around them howled and rushed forward, but before running even a few steps, they were frightened into kneeling on the ground by a terrible force—the powerful oppressive feeling was like an iron tower on the top of each demon's head, which was more dignified than terror and more horrible than majesty.

Every demon's mind couldn't help but see a similar image: an ancient dragon as big as a mountain, raising itself high and staring at the demons at its feet that were each smaller than one of its scales...

This was no longer a simple gap in ability, but a crushing hierarchy between different creatures.

Mrs Kathleen fell to her knees with a gasp, and supported herself against the ground with both hands awkwardly. The oppressive feeling that went straight to her soul made her unable to conceive thoughts of resistance. The cruel and bloody power divide between demons determined that a powerful devil wanted to kill a weak demon, and it would barely need to work to do it.

Unless the pressure was released, it would be enough for a lower demon to collapse and die.

Terrified sweat dripped down her forehead. At this moment, Mrs Kathleen's heart was desperate and fearful.

This was the full force of destruction, which is terrible to behold... She had experienced the cruel war more than 20 years ago, that is, at that time, she had betrayed her human identity and thrown herself into the Devil's camp, changing from a poor human girl in a border town to a Devil’s follower, and finally she herself became a demon.

She had even seen the Destroyer with her own eyes. Handsome and silent, he wore a uniform and walked through the cheering army of demons, as if everything he ruled over was nothing but trivial things in the world. He didn't deliberately release his force, but his whole body was full of destructive power, which made her unable to forget. Even though the appearance of the Lord of Destruction in her memory had already blurred, the sensation of his force still lingered.

In the more than 20 years since the fall of the Destroyer, she had never been amazed by any power. Even though she had joined the Slaughter Secret Society, she always maintained a calm and mocking attitude towards the crazy believers in the Secret Society. She despised the crazy believers, and from the bottom of her heart, she didn't think there was anything remarkable about these three new Devils.

However,ever since the fall of the old Devil King, the Underworld was leaderless. Although they had gained power, they were not truly "Devil Kings".

After all, none of them had started the ceremony.

Without this ceremony, whether it was Power, Fraud, or Slaughter, it was just a pseudo-Devil King with an empty title. In the past 20 years, there was only one Devil who was truly recognized as a Devil King in the demon world.

But the Destroyer had fallen. Who was this person who also used the force of destruction, and was infinitely close to the field level?

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[peaxhcringe]

Can We Keep It?

pairing: Bokuto x Fem! Reader

genre: fluff, crack 

warnings: cussing and kissing scene 

word count: 2K

summary: Bokuto decides to bring home an animal only for it to be the complete opposite of what he expected it to be. 

A/N: Hello! So this is my very first Bokuto x reader, and I’ve very unsure if I got his character right, but I hope I did him justice. This was originally supposed to be short and sweet but turned into long and sorta spicy... I can’t help myself. 

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

“Bokuto, put. it. down!” I yelled, pointing my finger at my owl like boyfriend who stood at the doorstep holding a small black and white animal in his arms. 

Me and Bokuto have been dating for about 3 years now and only recently got a place together after high school. It was a nice small little home that looked sorta like a cottage core house, but it was Bokuto who begged me to move into the house with him. With our time together I was used to his crazy stunts and if I’m being honest I love him for it, but so far this has been the dumbest thing he has ever done. 

Before Bokuto had arrived home today I was sitting on the couch looking through random channels on TV hoping to find something to entertain me while Bokuto left to go to the store. Typically I never allow him to venture to the store alone as he tends to buy everything other than what we actually needed such as the time he bought a whole 12 boxes full of ramen that we both wouldn’t be able to eat. This time though, he begged me to let him go stating that since I was sick a couple weeks I would still be too weak to go to the store.  Reluctantly I agreeded, giving him my wallet and sending him out into public. From the trip that was supposed to be at most an hour turned into 3 then 4 and finally 5 hours. Just when I was about to pick my phone up to call my owl of a boyfriend there was a light knock at the door, and that’s when I saw it. 

“Y/n but what if it’s hurt” Bokuto spoke, holding the animal tightly in his arms as if it were a child 

“You’re about to hurt in a minute if you don’t put the damn thing down!” I screamed, trying my best to stay calm although failing miserably 

Currently, my dumbass of a boyfriend was brought home by Akaashi carrying what looked to be an animal in his arms. At first I thought it was a cat, but that was until I noticed the rather large white stripe that ran along it’s back. I looked over at Akaashi, only to see him getting in his car and leaving, obviously leaving me to deal with Bokuto all by myself. 

“Look Y/n we match!” Bokuto spoke happily, lifting the skunk up and putting it next to his head, showing off their matching two-toned hair 

My eyes widened watching the scene play out in front of, more scared of the house getting sprayed and stuck with that horrid scent rather than Bokuto. I let out a sigh, bringing my hand to my forehead before speaking 

“Bokuto, honey, please let the skunk go, we can’t keep it” I plead, trying my best to reason with the dumb owl in front of me 

I watched as Bokuto’s faced dropped, a frown taking the place of the large smile, his hair seemingly dropping a little. 

“Kuroo would let me keep it” He mumbled, before turning towards the front door, the skunk now held tightly back in his arms 

I froze in my spot, my eyes widening as his words ran through my mind “Kuroo would let me keep it” 

“Excuse me?” I ask, my eyes staring him down, my hand turning into fist 

I watch as Bokuto stops mid turn, knowing I heard what he said. He turns his head to me and smiles almost knowing he’s going to be in trouble in even more trouble. 

“Koutarou Bokuto if you don’t get your ass in the backyard in the next 10 seconds…” I pause trying to think of a good punishment “No sex for a month” I state, watching as his golden eyes widen at my statement 

“Y/n you’re joking” He begins with a small chuckle, turning around fully and walking towards me 

I cross my arms and stand my ground, glaring at him 

“10” I state, beginning to count down 

“Come on you can’t be serious” Bokuto says, trying his best to make me stop 

“9” I continue, still completely serious 

I watch as Bokuto looks to the skunk in arms before let out a small sigh and slowly trudging to the back door until he suddenly stops and turns to me 

“You told me to put it in the backyard, does that me we are keeping it?!” He asks a hopeful smile spreading across his face 

I  bite my cheek, trying my best to not yell at him, my nails leaving a crescent mood shape in my palms as I squeeze my hands tighter. 

“5!” I say, counting down, watching as he instantly turns to the back door rushes outside placing the small creature on the grass beneath him. 

I let out a sigh relief, pushing some of my h/c out of my face, and walking over to the back door. As I reach the door frame I notice Bokuto standing in front of the skunk, his hands on his knees watching as the animal wobbles around in the unfamiliar area. I wasn’t going to say anything, but that was until I noticed the animal moving a little closer to the large man. 

“Honey, get away from the skunk” I warn, watching as it notices the large man hovering over it 

“Oh it’s okay Y/n, it can’t hurt me” He assures, waving me off as he watches the animal intently

I bite my lip, watching the two interact, a little nervous that Bokuto will get sprayed and I’ll have to be the one to wash him off. 

“It can’t hurt you, but I sure can” I said, my eyes following the small two toned creature

The skunk wobbles up to Bokuto, sniffing him, before letting out a small squeak. I step forward a bit, getting closer enough to Bokuto that if needed, I could pull him by his shirt and bring him back into the house. My eyes look from my boyfriend then down to the skunk, just in time to see the animal turning from Bokuto and lifting its tail up. 

“Bokuto move!” I say going to reach out to him, but just as my hand touches the back of his shirt the skunk sprays him part of it getting on me

I stand close to Bokuto awestruck, the strong smell of rotten eggs starting to fill my nose. I gag as the smell gets worse, the skunk running away from the both of us, heading off to the woods that were behind the house.  

“Bokuto you fucking idiot I told you to move away from it!” I yelled, turning around and move away from him 

“I thought it was a cat” He says staring at the ground where the skunk used to stand 

I freeze as I start to take my shirt off, turning back around to look at my boyfriend. 

“Your’re joking right?” I ask, hoping that he was just fucking with me

Without an actual response, Bokuto turns to me, sadness in his eyes. My heart drops a little as I see how upset he was from the skunk running away. 

“Kou,” I say softly, moving my hands from the hem of shirt and walking over to him “Honey, I’m sorry but you can be so dumb sometimes” I say, holding back a small laugh as I place a hand on his back, rubbing gently 

Bokuto turns to me, a frown on his face as he notices me trying to hold back a laugh. I smile at him as our eyes lock, but it’s cut short as the smell of the skunk spray gets stronger. 

“Okay, we can make up later, but right now you need to take those clothes off” I say trying to waft the smell away from my nose 

Bokuto’s frown instantly turns into a smirk as I finish my sentence, an eyebrow raising. My eyes widen as I realize where his mind went 

“Hey you pervert!” I yell slapping him lightly on the back “I’m not doing anything with you until you get rid of that smell” I continue, motioning the now skunk sprayed clothes of his 

“Awe come on it wasn’t my fault it sprayed me” Bokuto complained, the frown back on his face

I roll my eyes with a laugh, turning around and making my way back to the house, stopping as I reach the doorstep to take off my shirt that was also sprayed. My hand grip the hem of my shirt, slowly lifting it off of me, before throwing it to the side letting it fall on the cement steps.  As I reach down the cool button of my shorts I feel two large hands rest on top of mine, the contrasting coolness of my skin and the warmth of the hands feeling oddly calming. I turn gaze over to the left my eyes meeting the forehead of Bokuto, as his head dips down to my neck his lips grazing over the soft skin of my collarbone. 

“H-Hey” I say, stuttering as the warmth of his breath fans against me

Bokuto’s fingers lightly tap against my hands, his fingertips finding their way to the button of my shorts and undoing it without a problem. My back was pressed against his clothes chest, the feeling of his heart beating against my back sending a chill through me. I feel him smirk against my neck as his lips finally connect to my skin, a gasp leaving my mouth as he bites down gently. One of his hands slowly moves up from my shorts, the tips of his calloused fingers tracing small patterns on the skin of my exposed stomach. 

“K-Kou” I begin, trying my best to get a sentence out past the soft moans that leave my throat 

Bokuto’s kisses slowly being to move up from my neck up to my jawline, bitting and sucking on the sensitive skin as he went, hickeys almost certainly are going to be left behind. A soft moan comes out of my mouth as Bokuto softly bites my ear lobe, the pressure making my eyes flutter close. I turn my head, my lips inches away from his. A smile crosses my face as his breath blows against my face, his golden eyes staring into my e/c ones. 

“Kou” I whisper, my lips brushing against his, my hands moving to rest a top his 

“Hm?” Bokuto hums, waiting for me to continue 

I lean closer to his lips, a smile growing on his face as my soft lips connect with his only to separate from him after a few seconds, a whine coming from Bokuto. I reach a hand up and gently place it against his face, my thumb running across his cheek. 

“Go take a bath” I whisper against his lips, a large frown taking placing of the lustful look Bokuto had 

I gently pat his cheek, before I move from his grasp and step into the house. Turning around and watching as he starts to take his clothes off, placing them with my discarded shirt. My eyes immediately move to scan his chest, his very well built chest. A blush crosses my cheeks as I watch him strip, although I’ve see this man naked many times I can’t help but get flustered watching as his muscles move. 

“H-Hurry up and get into the bathroom” I say, quickly turning my gaze from him and heading to the kitchen 

My cheeks still hot and flushed as I reach up and grab a couple cans of tomato sauce remembering my mom telling that it could be used to help rid the smell of skunk. I stand on my tiptoes, reaching up and grabbing a couple cans. 

“Need help?” Bokuto’s voice rings out, almost making me jump as I feel him come up behind me 

I look down at the counter top before looking behind me to see a smile on his face as his bare chest is almost touching my back. Rolling my eyes I scoff, crossing my arms and looking up at him 

“Please” I mumbled, his deep laugh filling my ears

Bokuto’s body presses up against mine, pushing me against the counter as he reaches up and grabs a couple more large cans of tomato sauce. The weight of his body lifts as he takes a steps back, a smile on his face. I turn around and look up at him, taking a couple cans from the counter top  that I had already managed to get down. 

“Bathroom, now” I say and motion for him to head towards the room 

I watch as his shoulders drop and with yet another frown he walks towards the bathroom, a couple more cans of sauce in his hands. Letting out a laugh, I lean against the counter, watching as he makes his way down the hallway leading to the bathroom. Bokuto may be a idiot at times, but at least he’s my idiot.

#bokuto x reader #koutarou bokuto #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #bokuto fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader

[agentem]

I can’t sleep so let’s shout about IROM MAN 3.

Screencrush just posted a video about it that got me thinking.

I don’t think the film is as successful as Ryan Arey makes it out. It TRIES to do all these things. If you are a Shane Black fan, then you could say this is because Disney messed with his initial vision. Or maybe the vision was flawed.

I do think it’s interesting that the film is about PTSD, fear and perception. Trevor turning out to be just an actor is that age-old truism that your fears just aren’t as scary when you look at them in the light of day. It’s all in your head.

That would’ve worked better if Killian didn’t go around screaming that he “was” the guy Tony was afraid of at the end, suggesting it was real. (The original idea, of Rebecca Hall being the main bad guy, would have played with gender roles and society’s influence on our perception of reality.)

It’s interesting that I have been seeing a lot of negativity toward IRON MAN 3 and it’s portrayal of that guy around the premiere of SHANG CHI AND THE LEGEND OF THE TEN RINGS. Because I think online reaction is a bit skewed. Fans who were disappointed that Trevor wasn’t that guy seem to have an outsized voice in this. But Trevor was never supposed to be that guy. Nor is Killian (despite his claims) actually at all associated with Tony’s first trauma—his kidnappoing and inprisonment.

I don’t think the general population cared about the Twist that much? I recall IRON MAN 3 having a very high Rotten Tomatoes score when it first came out. Am I misremembering? Now it is down to 79%, which seems fair, but not what I remember. What were your initial feelings on IRON MAN 3? I remember being relieved because there is so much Orientalism around “The M— “, and honestly a lot of Iron Man’s origin.

I was worried about the casting of Sir Ben Kingsley too. I think he is a very good actor. But, as most of you know, he won his Oscar for playing Gandhi, and at the time it was well-received but now there is criticism around the darkening of his face and such for the role. Sir Ben is part Indian, but part white. (One bit of trivia I read recently that chilled me to my core is that the role was originally offered to Anthony Hopkins, who played Odin obviously, but he turned it down so they “found” Sir Ben.)

Anyway, the original “The M—“ is half-white and half-Chinese and I thought they were actually going to do the problematic origin.

So yeah, I was relieved they didn’t do it in IRON MAN 3. I stand by that. And I love them giving Wenwu the mantle but not the title in SHANG CHI. Now I can tell the fanboys to shut up about it. They saw the guy.

#iron man 3 #trevor slattery #ben kingsley #shane black

[numeroletter]

Ok, that’s all the Fechter posts I can find at the moment.

It’s tragic the way that Aaron is behaving. I honestly believe that there’s gotta be some mental illness or personality disorder or something of the sort at play here... but I just have a hard time in general with coming to terms with the existence of truly evil people in the world. For all I know, he could truly just be a bad person at his core, but I have a hard time believing that someone who could create a troupe of such loving, kind characters could be truly rotten to the core.

That isn’t to make excuses for this behavior, there’s no excusing it, but I do believe that Fechter is a deeply troubled man who can’t see past himself for the life of him. His own narcissistic nature is what caused his initial fall from grace (for reasons I won’t get into here for the sake of time), and since then, he’s just been digging himself further and further into a ditch.

He does show glimpses of kindness, though— when I first came to him as a young, starry-eyed fan, he was very kind to me. I even told him that I cried when I heard Billy Bob sing “Puff the Magic Dragon” because my dad used to sing me that song, and he told me something along the lines of “I never thought anyone liked that song, but now I can say that it’s Emma’s song.” It made me cry tears of joy, and it really touched my heart. And whenever I think to myself that he’s a truly evil man, I have to remind myself that he’s at least got some glimmer of kindness inside of him because of that.

I believe that Fechter, above all, is someone who needs help but is too proud to admit it. He’s got some serious delusions going on, he’s got some serious anger issues going on, he’s got some serious lack of empathy going on, and he’s got some serious narcissism going on. It’s really sad to see someone with such a creative mind fall into the traps of things like white supremacy and fascism, but I truly believe that if he were sound-minded, he wouldn’t be dragged into that sort of mess.

I feel bad for Aaron Fechter. He’s pushed away nearly everyone that’s ever cared for him. Allegedly, even Shalisa is only maintaining minimal contact with him now, which really says something given how close they were. He’s truly got some issues going on. But at the end of the day, none of that excuses what he’s been doing. He’s being abusive to his fan base, he’s scamming children by selling literal garbage on eBay, he’s literally put what is essentially a bounty out for someone’s personal information, and he’s being a white supremacist fascist.

All of these things are, at this point, unforgivable. Fechter has no plans on changing. Perhaps if he were to put forth the effort to change, people would forgive him and work towards rebuilding those bridges, but as it stands, he’s taking those ashes from those burned bridges and he’s dancing on them like a court jester.

#aaron fechter #rockafire explosion #rock-afire explosion #discourse

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 20 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: MILESTONEEEEE I’ve made it to Part 20! Loved writing Kenzie finally dreaming about the interrogation between Michael and Mallory at Outpost 3 (imo the best AHS scene of all time--I studied it carefully to write that part and WHEW do I love that scene, the birth of Millory!!!). I mentioned this in an ask recently, but I see Duncan as the Michael who chose the path of light, and Michael as the Duncan that chose darkness--I believe the duality of human nature is all about autonomous choice, and thus the Outpost Michael Kenzie sees has lost his nature of goodness, therefore has lost his “Duncanness” to her. She forgets that he called her “Mallory” upon waking, but she’ll hear the name again and be puzzled by it. The way Duncan helps Kenzie breathe is the real breathing technique to help comedown from hyperventilation--breathe in slowly through your nose, count to three, breathe out from pursed lips, repeat. The pomegranate smoothie is something like this recipe. Y’all know I had to reference this at some point. Lindy and Gabby are the ones who started DUCKENZIEFANS.com--they’re both high schoolers (they’re 16), and they--and their fan club/website--will show up again. I based Kenzie’s cool demeanor with them on the many videos people have taken of Keanu Reeves being lovely and polite to fans (I’m a huge Keanu fan)--the paps are going to start to notice how lovely Kenzie is to people, start picking up on her aura, so to speak, and it will have an effect on how they behave around her. Ben is my Billy Porter/Behold AU, as I’ve mentioned, and irl he is a married gay man and an outspoken advocate for LGBTQ+ rights--he’s done a lot of work with GLAAD, so it seemed fitting to make that his charity of choice. A reminder that the black tulle geometric lingerie looks like this. Ben’s glasses. His wine-colored blazer. His rose pin. Kenzie’s blouse. Kenzie’s skirt. Kenzie’s shoes. Duncan’s shirt. I listened to this remix of Lana del Rey’s BLUE JEANS a lot while I edited this part, it has a Duckenzie cosmic vibe. @neonlacrima made the most beautiful aesthetic moodboard for my fic and posted it today, please go give her love for it, I’m DYING over it. @deanfinite made one too, here, that I’ve been losing my mind over for days. The Duckenzie love is real, y’all, and I FUCKING FEEL IT.

Kenzie was dreaming again.

Duncan was kneeling before her. Duncan, but...not Duncan. The man kneeling in front of her had Duncan’s face--his blue eyes, though these were strangely dark and she could not see his soul behind them--his beautiful mouth and straight nose and chiseled jaw, but he had long, flowing golden hair--Duncan’s hair is coppery brown, like autumn leaves, waving down around his ears, falling back from his face, Kenzie thought in the dream--not knowing she was dreaming, but knowing that it was him, and also not him. And this man, who was Duncan, her beloved, and also not her Duncan, not her beloved: darkness coiled around him, thick like smoke--redness hovered around his eyes and he was dressed all in black, and this other Duncan, this dark Duncan, frightened her to the pit of her being. She smelled burnt ash and sharp, sickly sweetness, like the center of an overripe fruit. He smelled like destruction to her--like the end of something, like the end of everything. My Duncan doesn’t smell like that, she thought, a terrible chill in her mind. He smells like the woods in the rain and the sweetness of jasmine and summer grasses coming down as the light fades. You are not my Duncan. You are a shade of him, another side of him, one that does not exist in this world, and she still did not know she was dreaming, but she did know that, knew it, and knew she was inside the self that sat in front of his man, but was also outside of that self, as if she were looking over her own shoulder. The man was reaching out for her face, his other hand hovering on her knee, and the pressure of his hands filled her with sickly fear--you aren’t my Duncan, you really aren’t my Duncan, because his touch is healing to me, in his touch I can feel the fibers of his soul and it’s like sweet kisses on my skin, kisses full of tenderness, full of his love for me and your touch is not his, your touch is like death, your touch chills my soul to the core.

“You’re afraid,” this other Duncan was saying, “aren’t you? Of accepting who you are.”

“I don’t know who I am,” she heard herself say.

“What do you mean?” She felt caught in his gaze; as cold as ice, as harsh as a terrible blaze, a gaze that she could see none of her Duncan’s love inside--a gaze that wanted to consume only, devour only, rend, ravage. She heard herself speak again--as if she was only able to listen to herself--as if this other Kenzie was from the past, or the future, or some other Kenzie altogether, her doppleganger with a different mind entirely. “Sometimes, I feel like there’s someone buried inside me, trying to claw their way out.”

“Who?” The man’s hand was hovering at her chin now--not my Duncan, no, not him, this man is dark, he is Darkness Itself, he is the Beast, and she heard her other self say “I don’t know, I just wanna go--” and felt herself--her other self--stand and try to run away from the man--the man came after her and Kenzie’s heart went into her throat (no not him not him YOU ARE NOT HIM) and that other man with Duncan’s face grasped her arm and she heard herself say let me go and he said “Don’t be afraid, Mallory, I’m offering you a chance to live--”

And then she felt hot fire, heat so bright and so golden and so vast like the entirety of the sun and she thought YOU ARE NOT HIM DON’T TOUCH ME TAKE HIS FACE OFF IT’S NOT YOURS YOU TOOK HIM WHERE IS HE WHERE DID YOU TAKE HIM and Kenzie heard her other self scream this time, scream “I SAID LET ME GO--” and the fire, the sun of the feeling surged out of her, like the way she pushed her love and her feelings and thoughts into Duncan but this time it was charged, a thousand times stronger, a feeling so vast it felt as though it would rend her mind in two and something exploded, a fire burning behind them burst and extended and licked around the man and he staggered back from her, his face a mask of utter shock.

The room went dark, the fire snuffed--then the man with Duncan’s face rose from where he’d been knocked back, his golden hair tossed around his face, his expression full of wondrous awe, anger, and incredulence, his eyes inside hers. He advanced on her; his face became a terrible white mask, monstrous, distorted--and Kenzie felt herself, that other self that was her and not her, pull the golden sunlight, the energy made of wild, powerful brilliance, out towards him again, her fear floating away from her for a moment that felt like an eternity, and the fire flared up and was rekindled, swelling around him, forcing him to retreat once more, and Kenzie knew she was doing it, that it was her power that forced him back.

He lifted his face to her again, the veneration in it even more pronounced, the white monstrous pallor having disappeared from it, and Kenzie thought she saw a flash of Duncan finally in his eyes--a flicker of light, a spasm of his loveliness, his love, then it was gone. “Who are you?” His voice had lowered from its haughty cruelty, and was now tinged with astonishment. More like Duncan’s voice.

“I don’t know. Who are you?” Kenzie looked into the other Duncan’s eyes--I saw you for a moment there, my love, I saw you trapped inside him as though buried beneath the terrible weight of the crushing earth. Then the cold hand of fear gripped her heart again, and Kenzie felt herself, that other self, run from him as though there were ravenous wolves on her heels--

-------

She was coming back, resurfacing from a pool of dark water, and felt someone shaking her, shaking her arms and touching her face with a sweet, warm hand, a hand that she knew was Duncan’s before she even opened her eyes because she could feel the calm and the relief and the love in it, flowing into her, even while she was still drifting up from that dream, from the dark pool, from the other self she had been inside--and then her eyes snapped open and she was staring into his face, worry-creased, his blue eyes so earnest, Duncan was saying something but she couldn’t hear him at first then her hearing came back in a rush and she watched his lips (my Duncan, his eyes, his mouth, his warm and soothing hands, oh god, he took you away from me, he had destroyed you, my beloved, he had taken you away from me) and he said again “Kenzie, baby, Kenzie, wake up, you’re dreaming, you’re dreaming, it’s not real--”

Then she was jerking up and her breath shuddered out, and she gasped, harshly, and she felt the hot tears on her face, and Duncan’s hands were on her cheek and at her waist and the fear in his eyes shook her, shook her into intense relief, so intense she thought she might faint with it--”Oh god, baby, he didn’t take you, he didn’t take you away from me--you’re here, you’re okay, you’re here--your eyes, your soul--” and she burst into a sob that made her shoulders wrack forward into him and Duncan’s hands were in her hair as she cried, her face pressed into that space under his arm, her space, where she fit, where she’d been cut away from him, long ago at the beginning.

“Kenzie, Kenzie, baby love, everything’s okay, everything’s alright, you’re at home in our bed and I’m here, whatever was in your dream--it was just a dream baby, it’s not real--I love you, it’s okay, you’re okay--” she closed her eyes against him, hot tears coursing down her cheeks, lost in the soft whisper of his mouth at her ear, the feeling of his hands in her hair, his large body cradling her into his lap, and she breathed in--not the ash and rotten fruit of her dream, oh thank you, gods, Fates, thank you, he smelled like sandalwood and his jasmine soap and the musky earth-smell of him and Kenzie sobbed again, lost in his consolation, lost in the reality of him, the dream fading, that man made of Darkness Itself fading from her mind, bleeding out into the edges of her consciousness, mercifully. After awhile, she quieted, breathing him into her, breathing in the love she could feel coming off him in waves into her, and her heartbeat slowed, and Duncan was shushing into her hair, and saying “baby, it’s okay, baby, you’re okay, angel, Kenzie, shhhh, it’s okay,” and his hand was brushing the tears from her cheeks, the warmth of it, the shape of it soothing the harshness, the redness, the salty sting.

“Dunny--that dream--you were someone else, you were--a man with your face--”

“It wasn’t me, Kenzie, it wasn’t me. I’m here. It was a dream. I’m here. Your Duncan. I’m right here. I love you. I love you and you’re safe, you’re at home, you’re with me.”

“That man, he was so dark--he was evil--he was like a black hole in the void that sucked everything into it and howled in the face of the deep, serpent, the destroyer--” for a moment, it was as if someone else was speaking through Kenzie’s voice and she lost herself in the flow of her fearful words, then crashed back into herself, still babbling--”he scared me so much, it was like he had eaten you and was wearing your face, like you were screaming inside him--fuck, Duncan, oh fuck--he grabbed me and his hands were like a burning brand and I made the fire explode, I was so afraid and angry and confused--I don’t--” her breathing had risen back to a frenzied panting, and Kenzie gasped, hyperventilating, darkness at the edges of her vision.

“Shhhh, baby, shhhh, breathe, okay? Breathe slow, just breathe, in and out, watch me.” Duncan closed his mouth and breathed in through only his nose--he nodded at her slowly, holding onto her waist carefully and very tenderly, and Kenzie closed her mouth, watching him, mimicking the rise of his body, breathing in--she held her breath as he did, and he nodded to her again, holding up a finger--then one more--and a third, then they breathed out at the same time, Kenzie mimicking the way he pursed his lips as they did, and his hands rubbed gently at her waist, against her little pink satin pyjamas, the ones he got for me, soothing. “Good, baby, that was perfect, one more time--” and Kenzie and Duncan both breathed in carefully once more, and Kenzie felt the low, drifting calm of her mind float down against him, pushing the fear and the anxiety away--she could feel the golden bursts of his love flowing over her, waves of his affection in the sunlight over the bed, feel the warm convergence of his thoughts, tinged with fear for her, swirling around the corners of her mind. Kenzie, I love you. Kenzie, I’m here, no one will take me away from you, I won’t let anyone take me away from you. Feel me and look into my eyes. I’m here.

“Mom taught me to breathe like that, a long time ago,” Duncan’s voice was very quiet, soothing into her ear, his hands trailing up and down her body, around her arms and back and forth, feeling at the rise and fall of her, his head dipped down against her, the smell of him almost medicinal to her now--soothingly shielding her from the dream, pulling her away from it, and Kenzie was happy to leave it, happy to let it slip away, anxious to forget it. “I used to have panic attacks when I was little, over the paps following us around and taking pictures of me, I used to burst into tears and scream at them, and she taught me to breathe carefully like that--taught me to come down from my anger and just breathe.”

“Momby always told me to breathe, too…” Kenzie’s voice was a tiny whisper now, and she felt another wave of golden love fall over her like rain from Duncan’s tall, large body holding her against him, enveloping her, holding her at the side of the big dark-sheeted bed. My beloved, my One, my Duncan, oh god, I thought you were gone. “I can’t--that dream, baby--that nightmare--”

“It wasn’t real, Kenz. It wasn’t. Nobody will take me away from you. I won’t let them.”

Kenzie couldn’t keep a little whimpering sigh from escaping her lips--she let her eyes fall up the sunbeam that fell over the bed--daylight, not firelight, no fire--and lifted out of his arms now. He was gazing down at her, that terrible tenderness in his eyes, my Duncan, here he is, right here, right here with me, and he’s gonna go to work with me today, Ben’s gonna interview him, and more relief washed over her and she sniffed hard, willing her hidden tears back. The memory of last night was coming back to her now, too--making dinner together, strapping her body with nervous, shaking fingers into the tulle lingerie, his passionate kisses all over her body, buckling the choker around her neck and twisting her wrists into the velvet trappings, fucking her so achingly hard, their passion so needy, staring into each other with soul-shattering lust in their beautiful mirror--and the way he’d brought her a little bowl of green tea ice cream after because she’d asked for it, and they’d spooned it into each other’s mouths, kissing each other slowly and carefully between, their lust hazy and low by then, and she’d savored the way he’d looked at her as she licked the silver spoon in his hand, and they’d laid here in bed for a little while after, just holding each other quietly, until she’d begun to drift off into sleep--and Duncan had woken her softly to lead her to the bathroom where she washed her face and brushed her teeth and hair and soothed a damp wipe between her legs from a drawer under the long, spotless counter of the sink--she’d watched him do the same around his cock, wiping the residue of their combined rapture away, and had shivered, hands reaching out to him, and he’d pressed his lips against her forehead.

Kenzie could feel the soreness in her body now that she was coming back from the nightmare, coming back from the dulling of her senses inside that other place; her ass ached where he’d penetrated her and come deep inside her, and ached where he’d left redness smattered across her buttocks, and she could feel the raw wetness inside her cunt where the memory of his needy cock still lingered, the ache at her clit from his fingers and the egg and the incessant pressing there. But she didn’t mind--the soreness reminded her she was back here, in reality, in his arms, reminded her of the ardor between them last night and her ecstasy inside it, and that the dream hadn’t been real after all; that her fear inside it was unfounded.

“Do you want some water, baby?” Duncan spoke down into her softly, again, as she drifted in his arms, lost in her thoughts.

“Uh huh, please, baby. Can I have a coffee too, please? I’m okay now. I promise, I’m okay.”

Duncan stared at her for a little longer, as if to be sure, and then nodded at her. “I’ll be right back, okay? Just breathe like I told you if you feel upset again.” He kissed her, hand in her hair, then eased out of her arms--he was in just his briefs, the way he seemed most comfortable in sleep, and Kenzie couldn’t help but stare at his back as he walked away--the fall of his wavy hair on the back of his neck, the outline of his shoulder blades, the ripple of muscle in his arms, and the rise of his ass under the briefs, the thickness of his thighs, the fine hair on his legs. He is so beautiful. He really is. He’s like a statue come to life--almost too beautiful to be real, but he is. Kenzie sat there on the bed, feeling dazed, the dream still drifting at the edges of her psyche--but the sick, icy-hot feeling the man had given her, the fierce burning of the fire she’d kindled in her mind, and the panic at not being able to find Duncan--not being able to see him in the man with his face--were melting away. But these fucking dreams, Kenzie thought, troubled, remembering the ones she’d had over the past few days--Claire choking, the one where she was in the bathtub, the one where she brought a dead deer back to life--and Duncan’s dreams too, the one where she was dying, or the one where he was dying as she hovered over him (your hair was dark, you called me Michael, he’d said, she’d looked different--the way the dark man had had his face), or seeing her as an angel, with actual wings, comforting him--I was dark, he had said, your touch was healing.

We started having them after we met each other. Maybe we’re just really stressed by everything and our nerves are heightened lately...or...maybe it’s something else…

Kenzie got up from the bed, her tiredness eking away with the details of the dream--I don’t know who I am, she remembered herself (or that other self who was her but not her) saying, and then she thought of the way she and Duncan could hear each other’s thoughts sometimes--she stared at herself in the long mirror and was struck again with the feeling that it had always belonged to her, and she thought of Duncan dreaming that she was an angel. Maybe all of it does mean something. If the universe can help me find my Soulmate--and I’m really starting to believe it did--maybe it’s trying to tell us something else. Or show us something. Or...something. Maybe I don’t know who I am. Maybe there’s a whole other part of me I don’t know about.

Kenzie went to the closet--the silky black kimono Duncan had gotten her with the other things from Agent Provocateur was hanging near the front of her side. She’d put it there yesterday when she’d had the penthouse to herself--and had carefully hung the black lingerie beside it, to wear at a later date. Her tulle white lingerie from last night was on hangers lined up in the laundry room off the side of the living room, and she’d left a note on them for the housekeepers--I’ll wash these by hand myself, thank you. Kenzie was trying to get used to the idea of other people cleaning her living space for her, but there were some things she simply wouldn’t allow. Someone else washing my sex-stained lingerie by hand is one of them. Kenzie pulled the kimono down, sliding it over her shoulders and wrapping it around her waist; the lace fell beautifully around her thighs, and Kenzie looked down at herself with delight, pushing her hair behind her ears from where it had fallen into her eyes. My baby got this for me, and it’s so beautiful. I’ve always wanted something like this. Kenzie moved out of the closet and into the living room, where her eyes immediately fell on the coffee table with her roses and peonies--the roses were drooping quite noticeably now beside the other fresh flowers, and Kenzie lifted the Waterford vase up to bring it into the kitchen. Duncan was standing by his Keurig, waiting for a second cup of coffee to filter into it as he threw fruit into his Vitamix--hers was on the obsidian island, a tall glass of filtered water beside it.

“I was making you a smoothie,” he said as she came up behind him, and he turned to her, smiling. “Anything in particular you want in it?”

“I trust you, baby.”

Kenzie went up on her tip-toes and kissed him (he tastes like berries, she thought, noticing the open carton of blackberries on the counter beside him), admiring the way his hair fell down over his forehead as he leaned down to her; admiring his wide bare shoulders, the stubble ever-present on his chiseled jaw. “You’re wearing it,” he said, his smile widening, eyes flashing over her (burst of blue sky). “God, you look beautiful. I have to get you more pieces from them. One for every day at least. Do you feel any better, baby?” His hand came down the silkiness at her arm; trailed to her hand and grasped it, bringing her palm up to his mouth and kissing it, slowly, his eyes still in hers, sending a shiver down Kenzie’s spine. Last night was like a dream, but it was real, wasn’t it, baby, he thought into her, the wave strong as they touched. I worshiped you with abandon, your sweetness folding into me, your body trembling under my touch, the way you told me what to do to you, that choker around your neck, how hard I fucked you. Angel. Baby.

“Mhmm,” Kenzie breathed, bringing the hand he held up against his cheek, her thumb trailing over his lip. Duncan kissed her fingers--turned his head, closing his eyes. No, he thought into her, I’ll never get tired of kissing you, and she pushed it back towards him, I’ll never be tired of your kisses. “I feel okay now. Thanks for breathing with me, baby. That helped a lot. It was just...the way I felt in the dream, you know? Like you’d disappeared and someone else had taken over your body and that person was evil. And I was full of fear--there was another version of me there too, almost, one that didn’t know you--but I was there too, and I was full of despair.” She felt the tears in her eyes at that--wiped her cheek with a hasty hand. Duncan pulled her closer--she gripped onto his ass, only the smooth fabric of his briefs covering his sex between them--then tickled her hands up his torso and he barked with laughter, and the fear eked out of her again. How can I be sad with this beautiful boy here with me, kissing his devotions into my skin, smelling of the wild wood and the sweetness of berries.

“You better stop fucking tickling me or I’m gonna tie you up again,” he laughed down to her mouth. “I’m gonna spank you again, Princess.”

“Nuh uh, it’s my turn to spank you.” And Kenzie brought her little hand down and smacked Duncan’s ass as hard as she could, laughing and flinching away as he tried to grab her wrist. He was about to come after her around the island when his phone, sitting on the table, chimed out a text message. Kenzie ran to where her coffee sat, gripping the handle of the mug and bringing it up to her lips, sipping carefully as he picked the smooth iPhone up, grinning at him as he glared facetiously at her. “Gonna get you back for that later, baby. I’m gonna throw you over my knee for that.”

“Big talk, Mr. Shepherd,” she stuck her tongue out at him and wiggled her hips.

“Wait till later, Princess Kenzie. Still need to see you in that black set I got for you.”

He looked down at the text, then frowned. Kenzie had a good idea who it was from without needing to see it--Annette. Duncan put his phone down and turned it over.

“Your mom?”

He nodded, turning away from her back to the Vitamix, his good mood seeming to dissolve. He went to the fridge and pulled out a jug of pomegranate juice, pouring it carefully into the blender, snapping the lid and pressing the highest setting--a few seconds later the ingredients were blended perfectly, and he poured the rich magenta contents of the Vitamix into a tall tumbler, bringing it over to her, his eyes clouded.

“Is everything okay?” She leaned up to kiss him and he put the smoothie down, his hands suddenly coming up to her cheeks and pulling her into him, needy. Kenzie pressed her fingers through his, loving the richness of his smell as his tongue came against hers--she could feel a strange sadness from him now, and longed to brush it away.

“She’s angry about you moving in here, of fucking course--” he scoffed a little, then his face went soft again, soft to look at her, wistful and anxious--”I just wish she could see how extraordinary you are,” he whispered into her. “It’s so obvious. I don’t know how she can be so blindly stubborn. It hurts me to see her treat you unkindly. I hate it. I really fucking hate it.”

“Baby, it’s okay. I love you. You love me. That’s what matters.”

“Kenzie. I think you’re my Soulmate. I think you really, truly are. I think we were written in the stars. I think you’re the only person I was ever meant to be with. I do, baby. I really do. I have to tell you that,” and he looked into her eyes and Kenzie’s heart was full of him, full of the depth of everything he said, she could feel him there, pressing the invisible mouth of his soul, his blue fire, onto the invisible mouth of hers, made of golden moonshine, “It’s eating away at my heart and I have to say it. Doubtless you’ve heard me think it--and we can fucking hear each other’s thoughts, Kenz. That defies all description. That’s impossible, and yet we can. I don’t want anyone else to know about that, I want that to be our secret always--like, that’s too fucking intimate for other people, they won’t believe us and I don’t want them to ever know, I want that to be ours because I am yours entirely, Kenzie, my thoughts belong to you and so do I and nobody else can come close to you, for me, there’s only you now--and this sounds crazy to a part of me, to the Duncan I was last month--but I think we should go see a psychic, or a medium, or something like that, because I don’t understand what’s going on, but you and me and these dreams we’re having, and hearing each other’s thoughts, the Mirror, fucking everything--”

“Dunny. I can feel that you’re my Soulmate, too. I feel that too. I know that too. And when I see your thoughts I can see you beautiful soul, like the sound of rain falling at night, like sweet fire that warms me in the center of my heart and I’ll never tell anyone else about that, baby, it will always be only for me and you. I promise, baby, Duncan, I love you so--” Kenzie was speaking breathlessly into him, quietly leaning into his mouth and then he was kissing her achingly, their thoughts crashing together, strong and sweet. I love you, I love you, I love only you.

“You taste like blackberries,” she whispered, and pressed her tongue against his again, and Duncan’s hands came into her hair and buried themselves there, tangling into it deeper, pulling her head back so her chin rose and he could taste her better, could press her body into him, and Kenzie’s nerves were all on fire, the adrenaline from her dream surging back into the embrace of her lover, his grip both intensely possessive and wildly soft, my Prince who is the most beautiful of all Princes, the most divine of all the Gods, the most beloved of all Angels, Chosen and mine, mine alone.

---------

Duncan was still in the closet getting dressed as Kenzie retrieved the roses from the counter where she’d left them, lifting them out of the vase which she placed in the sink and drying the ends with a paper towel--she’d gotten a length of string from her sewing kit, now to be stowed in a cupboard towards her end of the walk-in closet, which she tied tightly around the bottom of the roses’ stems. She brought them back into the bedroom, past where she could see Duncan finishing the buttons on a textured black cotton shirt, and sliding his arms into a black blazer that was tailored almost alarmingly well--she marveled at his beauty, because it was impossible not to, no matter how often she gazed on him, feeling lost inside it, then turning away, shaking her head, dizzy with him. Kenzie had retrieved several aluminum thumbtacks from one of her various boxes of trinkets--Momby called them doodad boxes--and pressed them into the wall over the bed, wrapping the other end of the string she’s tied the roses together with around the tacks, so they hung with the petals facing earthwards, the better to dry. There. Now I won’t have to throw away any of the flowers Duncan gets for me. And our bedroom will always smell beautiful. And I’ll have my little garden, even if it’s a dead one.

Today she wore a sleeveless blouse in the palest shade of pink, with a peter pan collar and a thin black tying bow at the bosom, and a woven rust-brown skirt that fell just past her knees, which she had hitched up as she jumped on the bed, the better to reach the wall behind it. She’d put on the twisting gold bracelet she’d worn that night she and Duncan met on the balcony, fondly--but no other jewelry today. Kenzie felt nervous at the prospect of Ben interviewing Duncan--wondered if he’d be reasonable with Duncan’s request to postpone publishing it until he was officially in charge of the majority share for Shepherd Unlimited. I don’t know if I’d call Ben a reasonable person persay, she worried. He can be ruthless when he wants something, a great quality in a journalist, a not-so-great quality in someone who could potentially derail our hopes for the future. Duncan came out of the closet, adjusting his black Movado watch as he did, pushing a hand up through his wavy hair as his eyes fell on the roses, now drying upside-down.

“Now our bedroom will always smell like flowers, baby,” Kenzie murmured to him over her shoulder, her bare feet pressing into the bed, still mussed from their sleep. “I can’t bear to throw them away. They are the first flowers you ever got for me--well, besides the ones in the bathtub--and I will always love them.”

Duncan came up behind her, arms snaking around her waist, his face pressing into the side of her stomach as her arm came down around him, falling through his hair, smiling down at him from where she stood on their bed. She could see the happiness shining out of his blue (ocean on a clouded day) eyes as he turned his gaze between the hanging roses and her face--I mean it baby, she thought to him, I’ll love them forever. I’ll love you forever.

“I’ll buy you so many we’ll fill the entire wall. It’ll smell like a flower shop in here.”

“A wall of your love for me to look at every day. That sounds like heaven, baby.”

“You’re fucking heaven.” He pulled her down to him; Kenzie looked up into his face now, that glorious face (someone should paint him, the artists of the ages would claw each other in the face to paint his), then over his shoulder to the mirror that stretched and showed them in the morning light--Kenzie’s tawny hair falling down her back, Duncan’s fingers twisted in it, his face turned down to her in adoration as she looked at their reflection. For a moment, Kenzie allowed herself to imagine them as the royalty Pilar had likened them to--Hades and Persephone, Kenzie thought--a crown made of delicate gold leaves and moonstones on her head, one made of the bones of birds and dark obsidian stones around his, her blouse and skirt turning to a gown of spidery golden gossamer around her body, his dark shirt and blazer becoming a flowing cloak made of dark velvet around his shoulders. King and Queen of the Underworld, he judges the dead, I bring the breath of life. I hang the dry flowers of the land above in our bedroom, for nothing will grow in the Underworld--and though he can never be part of the common world, I can bring it to him, I can breathe life into his lungs, breathe flowers back around his heart. And so I have.

So you have, my love. She heard his thought and turned her face to him--he nodded, his eyes shining down at her, his tall frame towering over her. I heard everything. That was beautiful. My sweet Persephone, I love you more than every blossom of the spring, every growing thing that drops its heady perfume on a summer evening, more than the breath of my own body. Kiss me.

And so she did--as you have given me flowers, my love, so I will give them to you--all the flowers of my body and my soul.

------

Kenzie was delighted to see Harris again--he had rung Duncan’s bell a moment before, and as Duncan opened the long black penthouse door to receive him, Kenzie rushed up and threw her arms around the big man’s broad shoulders, dangling off him in the air suddenly like a kite flying in a gust of wind. Harris let out a little laugh, and Kenzie marveled at the way he held her up like she weighed no more than doll. He set her gently back to the earth, and Kenzie could feel Duncan’s smile on them, feel the blue flames of his mind lick against hers, his warm affection.

“I missed you,” she said up to her bodyguard, and Harris’ sepia-colored eyes were full of emotion.

“Miss Stone, I’ve agonized over what happened on Friday. In this line of work, we know things can sometimes go terribly wrong in a moment despite the most careful planning, but those scenarios are an escort’s worst nightmare. I have to apologize to you again--”

“No, Harris, you really don’t. You’re the reason I’m okay. You very well may have saved my life. I can’t thank you enough.” Kenzie grasped Harris’ huge hand, looking up into his face, her tone serious, affection and gratitude surging through her. “It’s my privilege to have you protecting me.”

“Harris, you did exactly what we hired you to do,” Duncan added. “You put your life in front of hers. You’re priceless to us and I meant what I said before, I intend to triple your salary. I can’t thank you enough.”

Harris was silent; Kenzie could see the overcome expression in his eyes--the burning tremor inside the friendliness. He only nodded a little, mouth closed, looking away from them,--Kenzie’s heart clenched, somehow knowing how close the big man with the wonderfully friendly smile was to tears, and she clutched his hand still, her fingers absolutely tiny, like a child’s, inside his--Harris’ hand was shivering in her grasp--then he said, very gently: “Miss Mackenzie, Mr. Shepherd. I’ll be waiting for you in the foyer,” and Kenzie let go of him, smiling up to him and nodding. “We’ll be there in just a minute, Harris.” She beckoned to him with her hands--Harris leaned down to her, as if she were about to whisper a secret into his ear--he had to bend quite far--and she pressed her lips to his cheek, and Kenzie thought--Harris, thank you, you are as noble as a knight protecting his queen to me, and I cherish you--and she pushed the thought into him, carefully, wondering if she could do it to anyone else, wondering if anyone else could feel something she wanted to give them the way Duncan could feel those things from her, and Kenzie watched Harris visibly shiver, his head still dipped down to her, then he straightened and his eyes were cloudy, confused, but full of warmth to her. He smiled, then--handsome, long, and then he left, and Kenzie could see that he was still shaking: this hugely tall, strong man, shaking because of her, and she knew it.

Duncan came up behind her, his arms coming around her with soft, wonderful warmth. “Baby, what did you do? What did you do to Harris? His face--he was shocked. Did you...did you think something into him?” Duncan’s mouth was at her ear, kissing with aching sensitivity, his breath sweet and the edges of his eyelashes fluttering against her skin. Kenzie sighed and leaned into him--”I tried--” he bit down on her skin, needily, his hands dipping around her breasts, and she moaned a little, arching up into the feeling of his mouth--”oh, baby, don’t leave marks on my neck--” “Too late for that, baby, you already have some from last night--some from me, some from your little rose choker, my little rose--” Duncan whispered into her, biting again, sucking--then Kenzie said “I tried--uhh, Duncan--I tried to tell him how much I cherish him, how he’s like a knight--p-protecting me, and I think he heard me, baby, I think he could hear me at least a little, I think I can push things into people--good things, lovely things, kindness, thanks, my...uhhh, baby--” and Duncan was turning her into his mouth, tasting her deeply, lifting her up into him, and Kenzie thought oh fuck work, fuck the world, I wanna just dissolve back into bed with you, fuck--and she heard him whisper back into her mind me too, Kenzie, me too, I wanna worship my goddess all day, I want to lay down my soul for you, make myself an offering to you as I worship your mouth and your body and the space between your thighs and she pushed down and away from him, their breathing heavy and harsh and drifting between them, and she laughed, “You have to stop, Dunny, we have to go to your interview now, baby, Samuel and Harris are waiting for us--” and Duncan’s hands clutched for her again, and she couldn’t bring herself to push him away again, such was the sweetness of his touch, the rightness of his hands on her body, drifting down to her thighs and the top of her ass, couldn’t deny him the golden melding of their minds as he gazed down at her, his eyes penetrating the center of her soul with their divine esteem for her.

“Fucking goddess,” he breathed. “My Persephone. My moon princess.”

“Baby, fuck--stop saying those beautiful things, we have to go--”

“I won’t, I won’t stop, I want to say every beautiful thing ever said or thought into your ears and into your mind and into the secret spaces of your soul, baby, my angel--” His mouth was dipping down the incline of Kenzie’s chin, to the soft, sensitive, delicate incline of her neck, into the dip of her collarbone (Kenzie’s breath sucked into her lungs, and she felt her heart racing terribly), down to the fabric that covered the space between her breasts, lifting her up into him effortlessly. “Baby,” she said, “god, that feels so good--I think I can make people feel happy if I try to, I can--uhh, baby--I can heal them, inside, I can give them a little part of me, a tiny bit of gold, a sliver of sunlight, and warm them, not their body, but give them peace in their--Dunny, fuck--in their--”

“You can heal people’s hearts,” he whispered, his mouth coming back up into hers, nibbling at her bottom lip, and Kenzie thought oh my fucking god, fuck me, my sweet Prince, turning me into dripping honey in your hands--”you can reach into them and heal the part of their soul that is hurting, my darling, my beloved. It’s extraordinary. You’ve healed me, and you can heal others, and I’m in awe of you.”

“I still don’t know how to do it, though--not really--how to control it--”

“You just did it, baby. You did it for Harris. If you intend to heal, if you’re trying to, I think you can do it better, stronger, but I think you can already do it without trying, without even needing to think about it,” he said, hands in her hair, and Kenzie knew he was right. I’ve healed you without thinking about it. “Dunny--I think you’ve done that for me too, though--I think you’ve healed me just by touching me, just by being near me, over and over--”

“I think I can do it too--not as well as you can, but a little, I can do it if I really try, if I really love the person--as I love you. But I think I’ve never known about it until now--I never knew, because it was hidden inside me before.” His mouth was kissing along her jaw now, his words between, his hands falling through her tawny hair over and over, sending bursts of warmth through her skin. “But I think you brought it out of me, like you opened a secret box inside me, one that was locked with a hundred impossible locks,” Duncan kissed her nose, the delicate space under her eyes, one, then the other, and the radiant happiness on his face made Kenzie want to cry, “and when you first touched me, Kenz--when you did, all of the locks immediately unwound, and my soul, my real soul--the sun that was hiding--it broke out, and you’ve brought me to life for real, Kenzie. You’ve kindled my spirit.”

“And we’ll do wonders, won’t we, Duncan. Now we will. Together, we’ll do wonders, my love.” She could feel her gold dust and his blue fire twisting around each other, could almost see them touching, the essences of both of them, imperceptible to her eyes but visible to her mind, in the early morning light, in the bright kitchen, sunlight falling across her succulents that lined the window, sunlight kissing their skin as they touched and felt each other, their bodies, their souls--

“Yes, baby. Yes, we fucking will.”

-------

Sweet, wonderful you, you make me happy with the things you do, oh, can it be so, this feeling follows me wherever I go...

Fleetwood Mac was on the BMW’s stereo again as Samuel pulled away from the curb; the back of the car was deeply cool despite the crushing heat outside today and he and Harris were chatting quietly in the front seat as the partition floated up. Kenzie was gazing at Duncan (he was wearing his Givenchy sunglasses today, the perfect wave of his hair mesmerizing her), his hand on her thigh, his gaze angled down at his phone (Instagram, and Kenzie smiled, seeing that he had her profile open, admiring the photo she’d taken last night of the dinner they’d made together--typing something, smiling--Kenzie tried to lean over his shoulder to read it, but at that moment she heard her phone trumpet a text from the inside of her Margaux satchel on the seat beside her. She pulled it out, the fingers of her other hand around his where it rested on her over her skirt, warm and sweetly heavy, and stared at the screen--Clairebear.

Clairebear: Kenzie Lou, Morgan is hard at work on your dress, it’ll be finished by Wednesday or Thursday--I’ll send you some photos soon, but make sure Duncan isn’t around when you look at them, we have to keep it a surprise!!! He’s going to lose his MIND. Morgan wanted to know if he’d be open to looking at some sketches she made for a look for him, also, can you ask him? She could work on something quickly if he could come by for measurements today or tomorrow. I think it would be amazing if you could coordinate your looks--America’s new favorite It couple DUCKENZIE have you been reading the stuff people have been posting? Everyone is OBSESSED with you two. It’s insane. Your Instagrams are the top two in trending since you posted those beach pictures over the weekend.

Kenzie saw the text bubbles that indicated Claire was writing again.

Clairebear: Here’s the article that went up this morning on BPF by the way. Then there was a link with a headline: DUNCAN SHEPHERD’S NEW BOO MACKENZIE STONE MOVES INTO HIS PENTHOUSE AFTER ONLY WEEKS OF DATING (yeah, because you found my apartment and swarmed it, Kenzie thought, with a jab of annoyance). The photo in the link was one of Kenzie’s Instagram photos--the one she’d posted of her sun and moon chimes with the long living room picture window in the background. She felt Duncan’s eyes looking at her phone over her shoulder; his large frame pressing against her back, his cheek hovering near her hair.

“Is that Claire,” he said, his lips kissing her temple. “Does she always send you the articles?”

“Not always, I don’t think. But sometimes. I’d rather hear about them from her than someone random person. And it’s not like we didn’t expect this one.”

“Better that everyone knows, they’re less likely to bother you if they know the Shepherd name is protecting you, honestly, baby. I threatened to yank their press credentials from the Gala if they didn’t stop coming around the high-rise, and that seems to have done the trick.” Duncan’s finger trailed down Kenzie’s leg, back and forth.

“Morgan wanted to know if you’d look at some sketches she drew for the Gala for you, by the way,” Kenzie said, looking up at him; he was peering at her over the top of his sunglasses, hair on his forehead, his long elegant hand clutching her leg, his clothing perfectly tailored and dark as evening. So handsome. So fucking handsome. He’s obscenely beautiful and it’s like he’s from another world. Duncan reached for her other hand and Kenzie set her phone in her lap, threading her fingers into his. He’s so warm, so lovely, he smells so good. My beloved.

“Of course I will, Kenz. I’d love for our looks to coordinate, baby. I guess I somehow knew I should put off finding my look until the last minute,” he grinned at her. His teeth are so perfect. His smile is like the clouds breaking on a rosy sunset. Ridiculous, baby. You’re ridiculous. How can anyone be so beautiful? Kenzie could feel the blush on her cheeks--she looked away from him, feeling shy suddenly.

“Stop thinking that stuff about me.” He pulled her into him; his body, so much larger than hers, enveloped her in the cocoon of his affection, and Kenzie felt faint inside it, felt herself go limp with the ardency of his touch. “You’re the one who’s ridiculously beautiful. You’re my moonlight.” Kenzie blushed more deeply into him as he took his sunglasses off, carelessly discarding them on the seat beside them, his hand coming back up to clutch her at the spot under her ear.

“Maybe we could go over there after we’re done with Ben’s interview?”

“Uh huh, Miss Stone. Whatever you want, Miss Stone. May I kiss you, Miss Stone?” His face hovered near her cheek, his breath sweet on her, his smell intoxicating, washing over her in waves, reminding her of his needy sex buried in her, his body pressed against her in the dark as they felt each other a few nights ago, immersed in their other senses, his mouth between her legs, his hands on her neck against the leather choker, all the nights that had passed with them locked in each other’s embrace, and it never felt like enough, it never felt long enough--

“You may.”

Duncan’s lips came against hers with aching velvet-softness; he hovered there for a long moment, his mouth open to her, and Kenzie became acutely aware of the feeling of him, the shivering tenderness of his touch--he lifted his head a little, and the bottom of his lip touched against the upper part of her mouth--he let it hover there for another achingly long moment, and Kenzie felt a deep shudder course through her body, down into her sex. It’s like he’s tasting my heart. She turned her head, lost in the feeling of him--her eyes had fluttered closed, and she felt drunk on him, drunk with his beauty and his attention on her this way; this concentration of his touch, so focused on her, the whisper of his mouth, like the soft flesh of a swollen fruit. The BMW was gliding through traffic with its careful ease, and Kenzie forgot where they were for a moment--she forgot everything except for the way Duncan was hovering against her, teasing her with his mouth. His thumb came up to press against her bottom lip, running along its edge and pressing it down, his lips still hanging on the top of her mouth, clutching her jaw gently but insistently. Duncan moved his mouth down again, his lips closing over just her bottom lip now, just a little, just enough to suck there lightly--Kenzie moaned against him in frustration, and she felt his smile.

“Stop teasing me, baby,” she said.

“Make me.”

Kenzie’s eyes snapped open; he was still nibbling at her bottom lip, his expression both stunningly beautiful and vexing to her, and she grasped his wrists--one at her cheek, the other on her thigh--and pushed his arms back into the BMW’s leather seat, her phone falling off her lap to the car’s floor as she climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Fine, baby, I fucking will. Kenzie knew she wasn’t strong enough to really control him this way--that he was letting her hold his arms down. You want me to do this, she thought, and his eyes opened, wildly bright (the blue of a field of cornflowers blooming in the sun) desirous and hungry. She could hear Stevie’s voice echoing through the stereo, coaxing her on--rock on ancient queen, follow those who pale in your shadow--and Kenzie let go of his wrists and clutched Duncan’s face in her little hands, demandingly, running her nails up his jaw with just enough pressure to force his head up to her, along the stubble there that she loved so, and he moaned against her fingers, and she kissed him, then, roughly, possessively, still clutching his face harshly against her, and Kenzie could feel him leaning into her, greedy and desperate, relieved at her want, starving for it. I want you to tell me what you want, what to do, command me, make me worship you, he was thinking into her, and Kenzie’s nerves were thrilling, singing, her body stoking itself into high flames of powerful desire. You are the light of my life and I long to fulfill your needs, long to fulfill every desire you dream of. I’m your faithful lover, most devoted, most ardent. I’m yours to do with what you will. You are beloved to me--more than anything. Above all things.

Kenzie pulled back and her hand fell down to his throat--she could feel the power of him under her hand, the strength coiled there, strength enough to whip her hand away from him if he desired to--but he leaned into her grasp, eagerly, anticipant. Choke me, baby.

Kenzie squeezed, and she heard Duncan gasp quietly, the air constricted from his lungs. His hands were on the incline between her back and the rise of her ass, clutching her flush against him, grinding his crotch up into the space between her legs. Kenzie lowered her mouth down, near to his, but didn’t let it touch him, not yet--God, you’re so fucking beautiful, baby, and I’ll think it as much as I want, she pressed into him, her thought dusted in gold. I could eat you like cake, Dunny. Lemme eat you, baby. You smell like fucking sex. She saw Duncan’s eyes go wide as he heard her thoughts, saw his tongue come out to his top lip, licking along the edge--go ahead and eat me, Princess, I’m yours to devour, Kenzie, baby, please fucking kiss me.

As Kenzie went to kiss him, though, her hand still on his neck, his grip pressing her into him, his eyes falling closed, she saw, with a jolt of painful disappointment, that Samuel was pulling up to One Franklin Square. “Fuuuuck,” she whined, pressing her mouth onto his in frustrated defiance--Duncan’s eyes were closed and he leaned into her with abandon, his tongue twining against hers, not having realized they had arrived yet--”Dunny, baby, ugh, we have to go,” she murmured into him, loosening her grip on his neck. Duncan groaned into her, his eyes opening, disappointment and longing in his (sky, storm, thunder-heavy clouds) eyes. “Ughhh, fuck, baby…”

“Rain check, baby. I promise. You like me choking you, huh?”

“Yes,” he whispered into her, into the space between her breasts, his mouth moving down there, up again, more hasty kisses pressed to her open mouth. “Yes, baby, I love it.”

“I’ll do it to you later, baby. I’ll tie you up later and let you watch me put on that black lingerie, how about that?”

Duncan’s eyes lifted up to hers and then rolled back a little, his mouth opening as she pressed down onto his crotch, still straddling him, gripping his jaw hard once more, quickly--the car was coming to a stop and soon Harris would be pulling the door open--”I’ll tie you up and choke you and suck your big cock later, baby,” Kenzie whispered into his mouth, and Duncan’s lips trembled under her, and she felt coiled gold power pilling in the pit of her stomach, drunk with the sensation of speaking these fantasies into her lover, so wildly beautiful as he was, so much larger than her, so much stronger, and yet so abject in her hands, so prostrate to her touch. So in love with me. So devoted to me. My Prince. My Hades. His power bows to mine.

“Yes, please, Kenzie, baby--” then she was climbing off him, and she could see the flush in his cheeks, the almost painful look in his eyes at the loss of her touch--they hastily pressed together one more time and kissed achingly as Harris opened the front passenger door, and then broke apart just as hastily as he opened Kenzie’s door, his neck turning away from them to peer at the paps who had begun to notice the telltale BMW.

“Baby, you have lipstick on your face,” Kenzie whispered to Duncan, bringing her thumb up to the side of his mouth, where her pink lipstain had smeared on his cheek. “There.” Duncan quickly gripped her hand, his eyes boring into her (I can’t wait to be alone with you at home, our sanctuary, our secret place where no one else can follow us, where we can worship each other with no distractions), then let go of her as she turned to get out of the car, clutching her satchel. He followed her out and Kenzie watched the tide of paps swarm towards them. Her mind was hot and frustrated from the interruption of their passionate moment--oh, fuck this, she thought. 

Then, Kenzie noticed something--two girls who clearly were not paps standing closeby on the sidewalk, excited expressions on their faces. One of them (short and boxy, in tennis shoes and jeans and a lavender-colored t-shirt with a graphic Kenzie couldn’t make out, a sandy-brown bob haircut and glasses, a pink backpack, and a bouquet of a dozen red roses wrapped in white, crinkly plastic clutched in her hand) was pointing at Kenzie and Duncan, the other girl (tall and thin with freckles and curly auburn hair, wearing a similar t-shirt in pink and a short denim skirt and ballet flats) was whispering to her excitedly, a newspaper clutched in her hand carefully--not just any newspaper, Kenzie thought, the Post. They noticed Kenzie looking at them and waved a little. “Mackenzie, we love you!” the curly-haired one shouted out. Oh my god, Kenzie thought. I have fucking fans. Duncan was looking over at the girls with an amused, indulgent expression on his face. Kenzie could see the tide of paps fast approaching--Harris was reaching for her arm, murmuring “Miss Stone, it’s time for us to go,” to her in a clipped voice. But Kenzie glanced back at the girls who waved to her with excited smiles on their faces again--the curly-haired girl bounced on her feet, and the girl with the bob haircut stepped forward a few paces, hesitant but determined.

Fuck you, paps, Kenzie thought suddenly, defiant. I’m gonna be such an angel you’re going to fall over yourselves. Watch this. She immediately stepped towards the girls, reaching out behind her and grabbing Duncan’s hand, pulling him insistently along as she trotted over to them in the black-tie wedge sandals she’d chosen to wear today. The girls gave her wild-eyed stares as she approached, and Kenzie smiled brilliantly at them.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” the shorter girl with the bob breathed--her cheeks were deeply red. “Oh my god, these are for you, Mackenzie--” she held the roses in the plastic sheet out to Kenzie and Kenzie looked in her face, steadily, keeping the smile in her gaze.

“Oh, wow, thank you, they’re so beautiful! Hi, what’s your name?”

Harris was coming up behind Duncan, a dark look of concern in his eyes. “Miss Mackenzie, we really should go inside,” he murmured down to her as the paps swarmed up, a pudgy-faced man in a leather jacket and his cameraman at his shoulder at the forefront--I think Duncan called him Gary, Kenzie thought vaguely, he’s from BPF. Kenzie ignored Harris carefully, still smiling at the girl. She noticed with a shock of surprise that the girls’ shirts were screen-printed with one of the photos of her and Duncan from their night at Le Diplomate--the first photos the paps had gotten of them and put up on the gossip website--the first one she’s seen on her phone after Claire had sent the link to her, where Kenzie was shyly staring up at Duncan and he was glancing across at her, wildly handsome, holding her hand. DUCKENZIEFANS.COM was printed along the bottom of the shirts, in swirling gold script. Oh my god, what.

“Lindy,” the girl said (at least that’s what it sounded like, Kenzie thought), and Kenzie could see that she was on the verge of tears. “Oh my god, hi Duncan, oh my god, wow--” Duncan was smiling at her indulgently over the rim of his sunglasses, and he reached out for the flowers. “Here, I’ll hold them for her, okay?” The girl passed the roses off to Duncan, her blush deepening to a color almost close to purple, and Kenzie could see the way her hands were shaking. Kenzie reached out to her, grasping her hand--”Wow, did you make your shirts yourselves? They’re so lovely!” The girl nodded and Kenzie saw the first tear spill down her cheek. Kenzie leaned over to the girl and gave her a little squeeze--she felt the tension in the girl’s shoulders soothe as she did. “It’s so nice to meet you, Lindy, it’s okay.”

The curly-haired girl was bouncing on her feet behind her friend, making strangled sounds of excitement. “Kenzie, could you please sign your article for me? Ohmygodohmygodohmygod you’re both sooooo beautiful together,” and she held out the copy of the Post and a blue sharpie to Kenzie as the paps began to swarm around them in a thick cloud--Kenzie grinned widely at her, batting her eyelashes showily as the cameras began to click around them in a cacophony, and Duncan’s hand pressed protectively into Kenzie’s lower back--Harris was giving Gary’s cameraman a dark look as he tried to press closer to Kenzie’s face, angling his camera down on her, and the man skittered back, still clicking. “Back up,” Harris said in a low voice, and the paps closest to him moved back, obediently, at least for the moment. “Miss Mackenzie, we need to go.” His tone was dark. “I agree, Kenz, this is too close,” Duncan said into her ear, but Kenzie didn’t let her expression falter--she gripped the sharpie, still smiling warmly between Lindy and her curly-haired friend. “And what’s your name, sweetie? So I can write it out.”

“Gabby, my name’s Gabby, with a y at the end, we have a fan club for you, if you could write that too, it’s DUCKENZIEFANS.com, thank you Kenzie, thank you so much--” Gabby tossed her hair a little, another little squeal coming out of her at the end of her words. “It’s so wonderful to meet you, Mackenzie, we love you so much, we love you both so much, you’re like angels!” Kenzie tried to block out the sound of the cameras with a determined stubbornness--she could hear questions beginning to rise over the crowd of paps (“MACKENZIE DUNCAN ARE YOU LIVING TOGETHER NOW WHO ARE YOU WEARING TO THE GALA THIS WEEKEND OVER HERE MACKENZIE DUNCAN OVER HERE OVER HERE”), and she fought to focus on the two girls, leaning over the square of her editorial on the bottom of the front page, writing out To Gabby and Lindy and everyone at DUCKENZIEFANS.COM you’re the best xoxo Kenzie Stone. “It’s wonderful to meet both of you, too,” she said to them, carefully, still smiling, tucking her hair behind her ear, glancing up into their faces--she heard another cascade of clicks as the cameras caught the moment. Duncan was gripping her arm now, his fingers going tight, and she knew he was worried, glancing up at his face quickly--his lips were pressed in a thin line and he was looking at her over his sunglasses, his eyes stormy with urgency. Baby, we gotta go, this is dangerous. “I’ll be sure to look at the website, I’m sure you’ve worked so hard on it,” she said, and Kenzie felt the tingly burst of warm energy from Duncan course through her arm. Angel. My love. You’re so kind to everyone.

“We have, oh my god, we’ve been working on it every day, thank you Kenzie!” Gabby said with another long squeal, and Kenzie handed her the newspaper and the sharpie--she was surprised at how steady her own hand was, as if it belonged to someone else. Lindy had her phone out--the back had a sticker, another printed photo of Kenzie and Duncan, this one of the shot Kenzie had posted on Instagram of them in the back of the BMW with the neon shadows over their faces. Jesus christ, this is surreal, Kenzie thought.

“Can we take a picture with you really quickly?” Lindy pleaded. Kenzie nodded and pulled Duncan against her (you too baby), beckoning to Gabby. “Real quick, first Gabby then Lindy, okay?” She tucked her arm around Gabby’s curly hair and Lindy held her phone up, hands still shaking--Kenzie smiled widely as the short girl pressed the button on her phone a few times in succession, then Gabby reached out to her and they switched--Gabby mimicked her friend’s actions, still letting out little squeals of wild excitement, then Kenzie let go of the short girl and let Duncan begin to pull her away with an iron grip--Harris moved around her back, his arms extended a little as a perimeter around the paps. Duncan pushed past Gary, who was trying to tuck a microphone under his mouth again. Kenzie waved back at the girls (they waved back, more tears falling down Lindy’s cheek, Gabby still bouncing up and down), then turned her body into Duncan’s as they quickly stepped through the loud crowd of paps, which parted for them reluctantly, following behind them closely.

“Mackenzie, are you living with Duncan now?” someone said. Kenzie glanced up, feeling Duncan’s hand tighten on her--they were still a few yards away from the entrance of One Franklin Square. It had been Gary, who had switched his microphone from Duncan’s cheek to hers--Harris was moving around to where the pudgy man was shuffling beside her, and Gary’s watery eyes were dodging between her and the big man advancing on him.

“I am, yeah. It’s Gary, right?” She gave him a little smile, still letting Duncan drag her along--they’d almost made it to the door now..

Gary looked a little surprised, his eyebrows raising, mouth popping open. “Yep--yeah, uh, Gary Spencer for buzzpopfeed. Uhh, can I say, you look lovely today, Mackenzie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, thank you,” Kenzie smiled again, this time with her teeth. Not really, but yanno. Gotta start somewhere. I’m not going to hide from you guys anymore. If this is my life now, so be it. I can do this. “I’ll make sure you get some good shots of us the Gala this weekend, how’s that sound?”

“That would be great, Miss Stone, that would be stellar, thank you--”

“You can call me Mackenzie, that’s okay, that’s fine, Gary.” She nodded at him a little, eyes skirting over to Duncan--he was coming up to the door, his expression unreadable but his grip on her having lessened a little, as though her words to the pudgy man were soothing him, too. “I have to go to work now, but yes, Duncan and I are living together now, and everything is wonderful. Thanks, Gary.” Gary stared at her, a dumbfounded look in his eyes--the other paps around him were still shouting at her and Duncan, trying to get her attention, but Harris was gently pushing her from behind as Duncan pulled her through the doorway of the building--Duncan still wasn’t speaking or showing any sign of how he was feeling, clutching the roses the girl had given her in his long hand. The paps lingered outside, the wave of them coming to an abrupt halt, aware of the building’s recently heightened security as the door snapped shut, cutting off the sound. Duncan continued to pull Kenzie through the downstairs foyer, towards the elevators--Kenzie saw Erin, the receptionist, glance up at them (she had purple eyeshadow today, her shorn bob perfectly styled) and Kenzie nodded to her, smiling. Erin nodded a little back at her, eyes skirting between Duncan and Harris on either side of her. Kenzie shrugged. My knights in shining armor. Erin gave her a nervous smile.

Once they were in the elevator, Kenzie spoke. “Harris, I’m sorry, I needed to do that. I needed to give them...something. I couldn’t just ignore those girls. Thank you for bearing with me.” Harris nodded at her, clearing his throat a little as his huge form stood beside her, Duncan on her left, taking his sunglasses off, staring down at her--his eyes were bright. He’s amazed at what I just did out there, she knew, suddenly shy of him.

“Miss Stone, that could have gone very badly,” Harris replied. “The danger outweighed the benefits, in my view. Excuse my bluntness, but if we’re going to avoid more situations like the one from last week, we have to be more careful.”

“I understand that. But I needed to do that. I needed to show them. And I needed to be kind to those girls.”

“I see, Miss Stone.” Harris’ body had relaxed slightly; his hands were carefully clasped together over his stomach, and his expression was lowering, back to one of neutral friendliness.

“Kenzie,” Duncan said, and his hand came out of hers, pressing against her shoulder. “That was wonderful. You were perfect. I know exactly what you were doing. You were placing the foundations for a rapport. And the way you were with those girls--that was absolutely adept, baby.”

She grinned at him. Yes, baby, yes. I knew you’d understand. “Did you see their shirts? Did you see the sticker on her phone? Like oh my god. Did you know about the fan club thing?”

“I saw a post online about it--I haven’t looked at the site yet,” Duncan laughed, his hand coming up to his jaw, rubbing along his bottom lip. “You were so good with them, baby. You’re such a doll to everyone.” Despite Harris being there, Duncan pulled her against him anyway, pressing a quick kiss into her mouth, the crinkly paper of the roses in her ears.

“Are you ready for the formidable force of Ben Wilder?” Kenzie grinned into his kiss.

“Probably not?” He laughed again, nervously.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. You’re look so good today, he’s going to be distracted.” Kenzie hooked her fingers around the lapels of his blazer, her mouth pressing down onto his chin.

“Every little bit helps to convince him to hold the article until everything’s finalized,” Duncan replied, eyes falling on the elevator doors as they slid open on the 10th floor. Zadie happened to be walking past, her arms full of copies, wearing a long dark pantsuit and block-heeled black boots today, her extremely long, straight, shiny hair swaying down her back. She glanced up and lifted a hand to Kenzie, smiling, eyes skittering over the two men with her--she waved a little at Harris too. They’d met on Friday, before the incident, and Harris gave her a warm smile and a nod. “Miss Zadie,” he said, his voice pleasant and low.

“Zadie, this is Duncan,” Kenzie stepped out of the elevator. Duncan gave the tall girl a brilliant smile, reaching out his hand. Zadie took it, carefully clutching the copies to her chest. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself on Friday,” Duncan said, still clutching the roses in one hand--Harris inclined a hand to them, and Duncan handed them off to the taller man, nodding at him gratefully. “I was so concerned about Kenzie, it was all such a blur.”

“Oh, it’s fine, geez,” Zadie said in her low voice, letting go of Duncan’s hand and tossing her hair off her shoulder, “we were all worried. I’m so glad she’s okay. I guess they’re keeping the guy for a mental health evaluation and a combined trespassing and assault charge. Speaking of which--Kenz, I think there’s a court order on your desk. They probably want you to testify.”

“Oh, great,” Kenzie said, biting into her lip. “Can’t wait.”

Zadie winced at her. “Sorry, babe. Really glad you’re alright. I gotta go--lots of copy to do today. It was nice to officially meet you, Duncan--and nice to see you again, Harris. Thank you for what you did for Kenzie.” Zadie smiled at them, her gaze lingering on Kenzie for the longest, her eyes warm. She’d been Copy Editor at the Post for as long as Kenzie had been working there as a staff journalist, and she’d always been extremely kind and professional to Kenzie. Kenzie could feel that the other girl really was relieved for her. Zadie is a peach.

“Miss Mackenzie, Mr. Shepherd, I’ll be here if you need me,” Harris indicated a row of chairs near the elevators, setting the roses down in one of them. “It’s easier to see everyone coming in and out of the room if I’m near the doors.”

“Thank you, Harris,” Duncan said. Kenzie gripped his hand again and pulled him to where Candice and Ben’s office doors were, across from each other. She could see Candice’s golden head bent over her desk through the clear window into her side, the blinds open--Candice glanced over and saw them, giving them a little smile, nodding at Kenzie. Duncan noticed this exchange and leaned down to Kenzie’s ear. “Should I tell Candice about the plan today?”

“Let’s wait a little longer, baby,” Kenzie replied, pulling him towards Ben’s office door. There was a placard: BEN WILDER, EXECUTIVE FEATURES, ASSOCIATE EDITOR. His outward-facing blinds were closed. “There’s so much going on this week already. Let’s tell her after our trip, our getaway--” Kenzie felt his hands come around her, passionately, at the mention of their trip, and Kenzie felt weak in the intensity of his arms. “Fuck, baby, I can’t wait, I can’t wait to be alone with you for days, away from everyone, our secret place--” he whispered down into her ear, and she leaned her face into him as Duncan kissed under her ear. “Duty calls first, baby,” she breathed. “We have responsibilities, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Fuck responsibilities,” Duncan whispered into her ear, and Kenzie felt her knees buckle a little inside his embrace, the feeling of his mouth (god he’s so tall and so warm and fuck he feels so soft and smells so good)--she twisted out of his hold, catching Candice’s eye through her office window--Candice was glancing at them with a smile around her mouth, pressing her lips together, smirking with interest. Kenzie blushed, pressing an accusatory finger into Duncan’s chest. He was grinning at her with a perverse beauty, and she felt a flash of annoyance at the depth of his charm, his ability to disarm her entirely with a few short movements of his hands and his body against her. “Stoppit, Mr. Shepherd. I demand that you control yourself.”

“Yes, Miss Stone. I apologize, Miss Stone.” She could feel his thoughts drifting against her. Can’t wait for you to choke me with your tight little fingers and tie me to that hook and make me watch you dress in that tight little beautiful black lingerie, baby, can’t wait for you to tease my cock with your little hands and your beautiful little mouth, baby, my Kenzie--”please forgive me, Miss Stone.”

Kenzie let her breath shudder out and stared into his blue (ocean depths, sucking me down) eyes, shaking her head at him. Then she leaned over and knocked on Ben’s door sharply, three taps.

“Come innnn,” she heard Ben’s voice, drawn out. She glanced at Duncan again--his face had lost the mischievous glint he’d been giving her a moment before, and was now a mask of professionalism. A real pro, stony Duncan Shepherd, she thought towards him. But I can see your thoughts still, my naughty baby, I know what you want, my desirous Prince. She could see how badly he wanted to touch her again, see the shape of his need to feel her, and Kenzie opened Ben’s door and turned away from him, teasingly. Be patient. You have to wait.

-------

“So, Mr. Duncan Shepherd, here in my office,” Ben rolled his eyes theatrically, pursing his lips, but Kenzie could see the delight on his face, the satisfied smile hovering just under his dark, flawless skin. He pressed his fingers down into the edges of his long desk, peering at Duncan, who was sitting in one of the seats across from him, Kenzie in the other--Duncan seemed relaxed, his legs crossed, his hands in his lap, but Kenzie could feel the nervous energy of his thoughts beneath his convincing composure. Everything is gonna be fine, baby, she thought into him, and he glanced at her, then back to Ben, not saying anything. Kenzie could already see the mesmerizing effect he was having on Ben, though; the older man was staring at Duncan openly now

Today Ben was wearing a wine-colored velvet jacket with blue lapels, a navy cashmere turtleneck underneath. His glasses were rectangular with tortoiseshell frames along only the top rim, and there was long, beautiful gold-and-black rose lapel pin against his blazer. He looked extravagant and handsome, but all beauties paled next to Duncan, and Kenzie felt sure Ben was aware of that. Duncan’s sublimely handsome face seemed to be shaking Ben’s normally impregnable composure--Kenzie watched his eyes fall down Duncan’s waving hair, pushed back effortlessly from his forehead, into his piercingly blue flame eyes, his straight nose and full lips, the carefully-maintained stubble along his chiseled jaw, the raw masculinity of his throat, to his tailored black blazer and textured button-up, the incline of his long legs and flawless boots, the round, silent face of his black watch--Kenzie noticed Ben’s eyes lingering on Duncan’s beautifully long hands. Aren’t they, she thought. Aren’t they the most beautiful hands you’ve ever seen. She watched Ben’s lips part slightly, his breathing hitch. Yes, they can. Everything you’re imagining, they can do. They’ve made me writhe with pleasure every night. Kenzie blushed down at her phone in her hands, blushed at the wantonness of her own thoughts, sitting here in her editor’s office. She absently opened Instagram as she heard Duncan reply--”I was told you were most insistent with Mackenzie that I see you,” he said, a teasing edge in his voice. “She communicated to me that it was of the utmost importance.” Kenzie blanched at her follower count--1.7k million. She absently went to the photo she’d taken last night of their dinner, curious at whatever he’d left as a comment on it--she scrolled down and saw it immediately. @duncanshepherd: dessert was even better, followed by the heart with an arrow through it. Oh my fucking god, baby, she thought. The comment had thousands of likes already, despite him only having posted it less than an hour before. Kenzie came to another dawning realization at the tone Duncan was using with Ben--Oh my god, Duncan is going to flirt with him. He’s going to make sure Ben agrees to postpone publishing the interview by giving him eyes. Oh my god, baby. You’re fucking sly.

“Well,” Ben said, fingers pressing up against his chest, languidly, drifting along his lapel around the rose pin--god, it’s really working already, Ben’s absolutely flustered, I’ve never seen him this way--”I do tend to be direct, but I couldn’t let the opportunity pass me by. You are a deeply interesting character, Mr. Shepherd.”

“I suppose I should say thank you for that,” Duncan replied, and then he smiled at Ben--Kenzie watched her editor’s eyelids flutter at the loveliness of her boyfriend’s smile, his white teeth cocked towards the other man, his eyes dancing. You are laying it on thick, Kenzie thought, fighting a wild urge to smack him. “I’m at your disposal, Mr. Wilder. But I have one stipulation, and I do require your discretion.”

Ben leaned forward in his seat--Kenzie could see the interest and arousal in him at Duncan’s careful, suggestive speech. “I’m listening.” His hand was on his chin, his eyes not wavering from Duncan’s (erotically, angelically) handsome face.

Duncan’s tone shifted suddenly--from casual eroticism to one of serious sincerity. “My uncle is fatally ill with prostate cancer. He will likely not live to see August. At that time, I will gain the majority share in the organization heretofore known as Shepherd Unlimited--a 3.5 billion dollar enterprise. When that happens, I will be shifting the prerogatives of the company towards philanthropy, and away from corporate interest. I would like to elucidate on that in this interview--but I cannot do that if you’re planning on making it public before the transfer of majority share happens in real time. I can certainly make it worth your while to wait, professionally-speaking--and if you can confirm your discretion is assured, we can discuss the particulars of that today.”

Ben’s mouth popped open a little. I guess that’s not what you expected to hear, Kenzie thought, still sitting quietly. “What kind of worthwhile are we talking here.”

“Financial or professional worth, it’s up to you. I’m not against one last bribe to help shift the company towards a better and more fulfilling future. Kenzie and I are committed to our goals and I will do whatever it takes to make them a reality.”

“You’re going to make Shepherd Unlimited a vehicle for philanthropy.” Ben’s tone was incredulous. And the Foundation?”

“Agree to the terms, please, Mr. Wilder.”

Ben’s face broke out into a smile that surprised Kenzie utterly--he’s happy. What?

“Mr. Shepherd, my word. Is this her doing?” Ben crooked a finger at Kenzie. “Little Miss Stone convinced you to literally move one of the most successful and powerful companies on earth towards a progressive agenda in the span of a week? I am absolutely speechless.”

“Mackenzie is extremely special. She’s a singular person who defies ordinary parameters of speech. She’s much more than she appears to be at first glance.” Duncan looked over at Kenzie, and Kenzie felt the wave of his affection cascade over her--felt the depth of feeling behind his eyes. Beloved. Exalted to me, most precious among all. “Yes, Mr. Wilder. Miss Stone was the catalyst of all this.”

Kenzie watched, still quiet, now full to the brim with emotion, watching as Ben stood, breathing in deeply, his eyes glittering. “I’m going to accept your terms, Mr. Shepherd--I won’t accept a bribe, at least, not a personal one--but I do want one thing.”

“And what’s that, Ben Wilder?”

“A generous donation to GLAAD, whence you gain majority share. It’s an organization that is very dear to me. With your financial support, it could become an even greater voice in the nation. With the financial momentum of Shepherd Unlimited behind it, we could do work that is truly transcendent for the inclusive goals of the LGBTQ community.”

Duncan replied almost immediately. “Yes. Absolutely. You have my word. As soon as I have financial control, it’s done.” He stood too, reaching his hand out to Ben, and the took men shook warmly. Kenzie felt suddenly overwhelmed with emotion--this is not how I expected this conversation to go at all, she thought, her breath hitching. This is wonderful.

“Then we most certainly have a deal. Duncan Shepherd, he of the piercing blue eyes, and Mackenzie Stone, his redemptive, intrepid love, about to be the most beloved public figures in America--” Ben sat down behind his desk again, a thoughtful expression on his face (I know that look, Kenzie thought: editorial in progress) and pressed the button on the recorder in front of him, picking a fountain pen from a copper holder beside the nameplate that faced outward toward Duncan and Kenzie. He leaned over the notepad in front of him, writing furiously for a moment as Duncan sat once more also, and both of the men were smiling--Kenzie felt the sun come out from behind a cloud, its warmth falling down through the window on them, bursting around her hair like an omen of good will as Ben began the interview. “So, tell me about your hopes for the future, Duncan…”

-----

They were back in the BMW a few hours later, on their way to Dupont Circle and Morgan’s studio. The interview with Ben had been a resounding success--Ben laughed no less than six times by Kenzie’s count, and by the end Ben was shyly touching his face and the rose at his lapel again, long since fallen prey to Duncan’s charm and aching loveliness. Being around Duncan is like a drug, Kenzie thought, like being around a Prince, a circlet of gold around his forehead, draped in dark velvets, smoldering blue fire burning in his gaze. He says I’m divine to him, and that shakes my bones--to be loved so much by someone so beautiful, to be the one he says brought his true beauty out from his soul. It makes me faint with the loveliness of it all. Kenzie had retrieved the roses the girl Lindy had given her from Harris after the interview and put them in a plastic vase from the staff kitchen, placing them on her desk before they left for the studio--they were simple, the kind one got from a grocery store--not the achingly fresh variety Duncan had bought for her. Still, she thought. Not everyone gets flowers from multiple admirers. Those girls were so sweet. It’s so strange to think I have a fan club now. She’d also opened the long manila envelope she found on her desk--the court summons Zadie had mentioned. The court date was two weeks away. Great, plenty of time to gt really nervous about it, Kenzie thought. She was lost in thoughts of the frightening encounter with the strange man when she felt Duncan’s warm, comforting touch on her leg.

“Kenz,” and Duncan was pressing his face down to her cheek, breathing in her smell, and she lifted her head so it was against his mouth. The day was still heavy with heat, the sun too bright and the clouds having disappeared; Duncan had been looking at his phone while Kenzie was drifting in her thoughts, but he had put it away, pressing against her, needy. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Why should you,” and she looked up at him, grinning. “You and all 2 million of my Instagram followers. Baby, that interview went so well, I can’t believe it. And Ben was so nice to you? He loved you. I’m just amazed. And we can do something good connected with it.”

“The interviews tomorrow are going to be hell. Mom already has forbidden us from talking very much, so we’ll likely end up just sitting around while they take photos. I’m sorry. It’s going to be a fucking drag.”

“I’m gonna wear that red dress, I think.” Kenzie looked up into his eyes, her hand coming around suggestively to his thigh. Duncan groaned softly, pressing the pads of his fingers into the soft side of her waist. “Oh my god, baby, yes please. I love that dress. I won’t be able to take my eyes off you.” “You’ll still be thinking about what I did to you when we got home--” and Kenzie pressed her fingers into the mound of his crotch, feeling gently, making his breath fall out in a harsh gasp. “What I’m gonna do to you soon--”

Samuel had pulled the BMW up to the sidewalk and Harris was coming out to Kenzie’s side of the car again, and Duncan groaned into her with frustration. “God, baby, fuck, I just wanna be alone with you, fuck everything else--” “As soon as we’re done here, baby--” and his mouth was crashing against hers again, impatient, devouring, and they pulled apart again as Harris snapped the door open. Kenzie tucked her disheveled hair behind her ears and slid out of the backseat, his scent all over her, like a tattoo that she couldn’t rub off.

Morgan’s studio in a squarish modern apartment building that held several other studios, all for various artists--one was a painter, another a sculptor, and there was a modest dance studio downstairs--Kenzie and Duncan went through the austere front lobby (it had what seemed like a hundred varieties of potted palms), Harris following at a close distance, eyes scanning carefully, and Kenzie led them through a doorway to a stairwell--”We’ll just avoid the elevator, it gets stuck sometimes,” she said to them over her shoulder, Duncan’s thumb trailing over her palm. Kenzie led them to the third floor, through a metal door back into a hallway with a row of studio doors--three in all. She went to the one furthest from the stairwell and pressed a buzzer to the side of it. A moment later Claire appeared, her face alight with happiness--”My babies!” she said gleefully, giving Kenzie a two-armed bear hug, then pressing an arm gently around Duncan’s shoulders for a moment, then, gave Harris an intrigued once-over.

“Clairebear, this is Harris, my bodyguard. He’s an absolute dream,” Kenzie smiled up at him, affectionately. Harris laughed at this, his sepia eyes dancing over Claire. “And who is this delightful creature?” He leaned down and kissed Claire’s hand--Claire’s eyes flashed and her cheeks reddened. “Oh my god, back at you, sir.” Claire waved a hand a few times over her face, as if to feign being overheated. “I’m Claire Anne Augustine, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” She dipped in a little curtsy and Harris laughed again. “Enchanting.”

“Come in, come in,” Claire beckoned to everyone, ushering them inside--Morgan’s studio was as brightly open as ever, the starkness of the black and white stripes immediate. Morgan was coming toward them, her wild orange hair striking against the walls. She leaned to Duncan, her hands in their customary long black gloves, and smiled magnanimously. “What a delight to finally meet the Shepherd heir apparent,” she cooed in her small voice. “And you’re more beautiful than even your celebrity would suggest, I see. I’m Morgan, my dear. Please call me such.”

Duncan dipped his head, shyly. “And please call me Duncan, Morgan. A pleasure.”

“Claire and dear Mackenzie have told me they wish her dress to remain a secret until the night of the Gala, so we’ve hidden our progress--but I think Mackenzie should also approve of my sketches regarding your own accoutrements for the night,” Morgan drolled. “A woman’s eye is everything in these matters, wouldn’t you agree.” She peered at Duncan over her huge, black triangular spectacles, as if to appraise his reaction. “I certainly do,” Duncan said, glancing over at Kenzie. “Kenzie has to love it or I certainly won’t wear it, no offense to you, Morgan.”

“None taken, my dear, in matters of the heart, true understanding is everything, isn’t it.” Morgan moved past everyone, not waiting for an answer--Claire beckoned to them as she followed behind Morgan’s huge orange wig, moving to a oblong, low white table where several sketchbooks were scattered. Morgan opened one with a dark leather cover to a spot she seemed to have marked with a long strip of shiny gold material--Kenzie’s heart thumped wildly at the sight of it, remembering the sketches Morgan had shown her for her dress. Morgan brought the open page over to Duncan, who gazed down at it--Kenzie saw his eyes widen and his head start to nod in approval, a satisfied smile on his mouth.

“Kenz, look,” he murmured to her, gently lifting the sketchbook toward her. On the page Morgan had drawn a dark blazer with wide lapels--down the shoulders dripped cascades of gold, like stars melting out of the sky, like some colossal god had been painting with them and smeared them earthwards with a careless hand. This is how it feels when you touch me, his mind brushed against hers as his hand touched hers under the sketchbook. Like your gold is melting down onto me.

“Duncan, it’s perfect,” Kenzie said, looking up at him and then at Morgan. Harris was standing quietly, surveying the expanse of Morgan’s studio--Claire was watching her and Duncan standing side by side, a look of deep affection in her eyes. In the drawing Morgan had given the model a black high-collared shirt with gold tips, and no tie. Very Duncan. She must have carefully considered his style.

“I agree,” Duncan said, and she could see how pleased he was, how delighted. “Morgan, I love it.”

Morgan breathed an overwrought sigh of relief; “Well, what cause for celebration,” she trilled. “Claire, get the champagne.”

“Whoo!” Claire whooped, running over to where a mini fridge (also painted black and white) was hiding in a curve against a tall fabric dresser. She pulled out a bottle of Moet and glanced up at Kenzie. “Kenzie, you’re only allowed to have one glass after the other night.”

“Oh fuck off, Claire,” but Kenzie was smiling at her best friend. Harris had gone over to Claire and was helping her hold several plastic coupes she was retrieving from a cupboard along the wall further down, a sink adjoining. “This isn’t the first time Morgan and I have had champagne in the early afternoon, so I probably should fuck off,” Claire replied. Harris took the bottle from her carefully, and Claire smiled up at him, coyly. “Why, thank you, Harris. What a gentleman.” Claire fucking loves Harris, wow. I mean--he is extremely handsome for an older man. And he’s...really strong. Kenzie snorted at her own thoughts. Maybe I could play matchmaker for my best friend and my bodyguard. Harris popped the cork of the bottle and poured it carefully into the coupes, and Kenzie watched his eyes follow Claire’s back as she came to where Duncan and Kenzie stood, passing two of the coupes to them as Duncan carefully set the sketchbook out of reach.

“To being on every best-dressed list and the front page of Vogue the morning after!” Morgan said to the ceiling as they all bumped the glasses together a moment later; Claire laughed into her hand as Duncan and Kenzie gazed at each other--this is how it feels when you touch me--his thought was still drifting between them, his eyes falling over her, and Kenzie was longing to be alone with him. I’ll touch you as much as you want, baby, she thought into him, pressing gold dust around his waving hair. I’ll drip my gold into your mouth and down your skin, draw sigils into your body with my gold, mark you as mine, beloved. We’re going to be so beautiful together at the Gala, no one will be able to look away from our radiance, the blinding golden sunlight of our love. Not even your mother.

------

Samuel had driven them home after that--it was early afternoon, just after 5, and the heat was pressing all around them, the champagne they’d had buzzing under Kenzie’s skin--she’d had just enough to kindle the desirous need in the pit of her belly, just enough to feel drunk. Morgan and Claire had had a tray of charcuterie for everyone as well, but Kenzie’s belly was rumbling with hunger--she’d only had a few pieces of the cheese and crackers, and remembered she’d only had the smoothie Duncan made her for breakfast. But I’m hungrier for you, she thought, feeling Duncan’s eyes on her as she stared out the window of the BMW on the National Mall, feeling the tips of his long fingers falling down her hand between them.

I’m starving for you, angel. I don’t wanna wait until tonight. I want you to do all those things to me as soon as we get home, while the sunset kisses us through the window, while I can see it fall over your skin. Then we can order so much take out. So fucking much. How does that sound?

“Dunny, baby, kiss me,” Kenzie turned her head and lifted her mouth to him, and Duncan was pulling her into his lap insistently, pulling her throat into his lips, whispering into her skin. “Kenzie, I can’t wait to see your dress, god, you’re going to look so beautiful, I can’t wait for us to change everything--it’s like everything is holding its breath--” Duncan kissed her mouth and his was so warm and tasted so sweet and Billie Holiday was on the stereo--all of me, why not take all of me, can’t you see I’m no good without you, take my lips, I want to lose them--and then he was speaking into her mind again, the softest, sweetest, most aching thoughts: I can’t wait for us to go to the cabin all alone for days and days and look at the stars while I fuck you in the long grass and by the fire and in the sweet darkness--you’ll see, it’s so quiet out there, no traffic, no shouting people, nothing but the crickets and the frogs at night and the wind and the sound of your sweet little cries against me, oh, baby, you smell so good, my angel, baby love--

Kenzie let out a little whine of frustration as they came up to the high-rise; the partition floated down but Kenzie was already sliding off Duncan and throwing the door open--a burst of warm summer air penetrated the cool cocoon of the backseat--”good night, Samuel and Harris!” Kenzie called behind her, and Harris, who had been about to open his door, stopped and looked after them grinning, turning to say something to Samuel that she couldn’t hear-- Kenzie had already yanked Duncan’s hand behind her, pulling him out of the car, snatching up her satchel. On the sidewalk he grasped her against him, lifting her up into his mouth again; she gasped into him and pushed herself down from him gently, “Come on, baby,” she demanded, her nerves buzzing with champagne and impatience. “I wanna be alone with you, really alone.”

“Race you,” Duncan said, a sudden, dastardly smile falling over his loveliness, and took off ahead of her towards the front door--Jerry swung it open, blinking at Duncan running past him, and Kenzie cried out in frustration, chasing after him. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen Mr. Shepherd run quite that fast--” she heard Jerry say as she skirted around him, her satchel smacking against her hip. Anchaly was staring at Duncan flying past him with raised eyebrows--Duncan slipped into the elevator and Kenzie let out another cry. “Duncan Shepherd, don’t you dare--” but by the time she reached it the doors were sliding closed and she caught the end of his vexing laugh, his blue eyes (the knowing burst of a summer sky) pushing arch desires into her. Come fuck me baby.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna fucking get you for that, baby,” Kenzie murmured under her breath, the wind snatched out of her. She pressed the elevator button in quick succession, a frustrated whine leaking out of her. Anchaly was peering around the corner at her, a look of great amusement on his face. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” he called out to her across the marble foyer. Kenzie gave him a frustrated glance. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate,” she replied. “My minor was in English. Though he can’t have been speaking for my temper.”

“Ah, but for your loveliness, I think so.” Anchaly laughed as the second elevator slid open and Kenzie hopped inside, giving him the finger, playfully. He laughed harder at that. Kenzie’s buzz from the champagne was still riding high--adrenaline was now pumping through her body, desirous exasperation humming under her skin. Baby, I can’t believe you did that. I’m really going to tie you up now. Kenzie stared at her own reflection in the elevator’s mirror--her chestnutty hair in waves around her shoulders, her little mouth, pressed to roses by his kisses, the blush in her cheeks from running, the wideness and shine of her eyes, anticipating the moment she’d touch him again--aching for even the momentary loss of Duncan’s fingers, his burning mouth. How dare you frustrate me so, beloved. She thought of the laugh in his eyes--come to me, Persephone, come into my arms, in the shadow of evening. She watched the elevator climb (19, 20, 21) and thought of the blazer with dripping gold that Morgan was going to make him--thought of them all in gold at the Gala in a few days, cameras flashing, and them together, as it was always meant to be. With a strange wave of deja vu, Kenzie recalled a flash of the dream she’d had that morning--her aching despair to look into the eyes of her beloved, but to not see him there, to see someone else, a person she did not know, a creature of darkness. My darling, even in that world, I’d find a way to save you. I’d find a way to pull you back out of the darkness. I swear I would.

The elevator finally dinged to the 30th floor. Kenzie breathed a deep sigh of relief as the doors slid open--she jumped out--the hall was empty. Kenzie walked swiftly to the penthouse door, fumbling for her keycard, jamming it into the door, her heart racing--where are you, baby, where are you--she pulled the door open with impatience, tossing her head from side to side. “Duncan?” She called. No answer. Oh, you’ve really done it now. “Baby, this isn’t funny.” She dropped her satchel on the spotless stone tile of the kitchen floor--and as Kenzie moved into the living room, the sunset cascading down through the picture window, a sudden, terrible burst of fear flitted through her heart. What if, like in my dream this morning, he’s gone. What if he disappeared, into nothingness, lost in the void, and I can’t find him? It didn’t matter that the thought was wild and unbidden--if I live in a world now where the paparazzi follow me everywhere I go, if I live in a world where I can read my lover’s thoughts, I could also live in a world where people disappear without warning, vanish in a puff of smoke, couldn’t I.

The fear really clenched around her heart then, and Kenzie clutched her arms around her belly, tears immediately coming into her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “No. That can’t--” and then she cried out as she suddenly felt his arms come down around her, his large body envelop hers as he came up behind her--”Gotcha” he sung into her ear, and then Duncan seemed to realize, his face pressed into her and his arms around her, that she was distraught--seemed to feel the fear and the despair that had come over her a moment before through her skin, and his breath caught as he held her.

“Kenzie, baby, what is it?” His eyes came into hers, the playful teasing eking out of them, replaced with confusion and distress for her.

“I thought--I thought you’d--I thought you’d disappeared,” Kenzie felt the horrible despair dissipate, and in its place came a heady relief that brought more tears instantly into her eyes and suddenly she was crying, really crying, her face crumpling in the warmth of his embrace. “I thought of my dream, where there was that person with your face but you weren’t inside him, and then I thought, what if you had vanished, what if you’d vanished like that--” Kenzie’s face was now wet with the cascade of her tears, her lip trembling and her voice strangled with a sob. Duncan’s hands immediately grasped her more tightly, his beautiful face now aching with torment, and he pressed her against him, and his mouth was coming down to kiss hers and his hands coming up to wipe at her cheeks, running his damp hands along his shirt, uncaring.

“No, baby, no, I’m sorry--I was just teasing you--I was behind the door when you came in, oh Kenzie, please don’t cry, fuck--”

“I’m sorry,” Kenzie’s voice was tinged with her tears still, and she felt ridiculous, felt foolish, felt despondent that she’d overreacted this way--she tried to turn away from him but Duncan said “no, baby, it’s okay, let me hold you,” and Kenzie softened in his arms and felt the cool, loving blue flames of him licking into the lining of her and immediately felt herself calming, felt her tears begin to go cool and dry from the edges of her vision.

“I’m not going anywhere, Kenzie. Listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, I love you so fucking much, I’m sorry I scared you, baby, angel--”  Duncan spoke into the side of her hair, down to her ear, his arms tight around her, and then he turned her face up into him again and kissed her, and Kenzie gripped at his blazer desperately, pulling him down into her. “No, you fucking aren’t,” she whispered into his mouth, and felt him shudder under her, saw the spark that lit itself behind his gaze at the command in her voice. She pushed him back as he went to kiss her again, her fingers gripping onto his jaw then falling to clutch his neck, forcing him to stare into her eyes.

”Go in the bedroom and take your clothes off.”

“Fuck. Yes, Kenzie.” He stepped backwards, eyes still in hers, tugging his blazer off and discarding it to the floor, long hands coming up to his throat to start at the buttons there, turning away from her reluctantly--Kenzie followed behind him, her arms crossed, watching him. He reached the edge of the bed, now remade perfectly by the unseen hands of the housekeepers, dark and silent, the late afternoon sun not reaching this part of the penthouse--the room was bathed in shadow, and Duncan went to turn on one of the lamps, but Kenzie said “No, don’t. I’ll do it. Keep taking your clothes off, baby. Do as I told you.”

“Mhmm, baby.” Duncan turned away from the lamp and kicked his boots off, his tall form facing her now, still working at the buttons of his dark tailored shirt. Kenzie walked past him, and she saw the longing in his eyes, the longing to reach out and touch her, but he continued to unbutton the shirt obediently as she leaned down to the lamp, turning it to the lowest setting so the room was still waves of shadows. She straightened, her eyes moving from his hair to his face, his naked torso emerging from underneath his shirt, his crotch, which she could see growing hard under the fabric of his tailored pants, his long legs and dark socks. She reached forward--she saw his mouth hover open, saw his eyes go dark with need for her. Kenzie’s hands fell on the metal buckle of his belt--looking up at him, letting her eyes fall open and closed slowly, letting her mouth dip open and her tongue slide along her bottom lip, she undid the buckle and eased the belt out from his waist as he pulled the shirt off, discarding it too on the floor, his eyes unmoving from her face--they watched her tongue and a tiny, almost imperceptible moan fell from his lips, and Kenzie drifted her fingers up to his bare skin as his hands came down to grasp hers for a moment, his fingers hot and flushed, then they moved under her to work at his pants, pushing them down, easing himself onto the bed which was now behind them to work them off. Kenzie was still full clothed--she thrilled at this, her nerves burning at his vulnerability to her in this moment--Duncan’s pants came off finally, and he eased his socks off too, then he grasped at the waistband of his briefs for a moment, staring into her face again.

“Take those off,” Kenzie said. She couldn’t stop the smile that played around her mouth--Duncan saw it and he nodded, laying back and pushing them down his thighs. His cock fell out, hard, jumping against his leg. Duncan leaned up now, underwear discarded--he sat at the edge of the bed, his hand hovering near his erection, and his eyes burning on her. Kenzie stood in front of him, her arms coming down to her sides, heart hammering, appraising him. Duncan moved to grip himself, neediness in his eyes, but Kenzie shook her head and he stopped.

“Stop, Dunny. Not yet, baby.”

“Mm, Kenzie. Baby. I’m hard for you.”

“Uh huh. I can see that. Don’t move. Don’t you dare.”

“Yes, Kenzie.” Duncan’s hands gripped the edge of the bed; he bit his lip, his eyes falling closed, achingly. Kenzie stepped into the walk-in closet, untying her wedge sandals, stepping out of them, going to the drawer with the thick velvet ribbon, reaching up to where the black geometric lingerie hung. Her nerves thrilled when she reemerged--Duncan stared at her, his face flushed, his cock still very hard and pressing against his stomach, his hands unmoved from where they still rested on either side of his thighs.

“I wanna touch you so fucking bad, baby,” he murmured. The neediness in his voice made warmth pool between Kenzie’s legs, and she fought to clear her head of the haze that wanted to hang down low in her mind at the sight of him this way.

“Be patient. You need to wait.”

“Uhh huh, angel.”

Kenzie set the ribbon and the hangers with the black lingerie on them beside him on the dark coverlet, then she said “Duncan, stand up,” in a firm voice. Duncan immediately stood, stepping closer to her--Kenzie moved back as he tried to touch her, and he whined quietly. “Go over to the hook and hold onto the chain, baby. Like I did last night. Do it.”

Duncan’s eyes fluttered closed and he bit into his lip--Kenzie could see the coiling pleasure in his face, the fervor building there. He stepped back from her to the chain where it hung down in the mirror--she watched his eyes look up at himself in its surface, at his nakedness and his hardness, his hand coming up through his hair, then over his shoulder into her eyes where she watched him. I need you so much, Kenzie, his thought drifted into her. I need you to touch me so much. Fuck, baby, I’m weak for you, fuck, this is torture, but fuck, I love it, I love your commands, keep going, please, I want you to tie me up so much--

Duncan’s (long, beautiful, graceful) hands gripped the chain, his back facing her, his eyes staring at her in the glass. “Good, baby, perfect, now, don’t move,” Kenzie said, and left the room again. I’m too short to reach him, she realized, I’m gonna need some help. She grasped one of the tall chairs from the kitchen island and carefully carried it back into the bedroom--Duncan noticed what she was doing and a grin broke over his loveliness.

“My Kenzie’s too little to tie me up,” he whispered down to her as she put the chair in front of him. Kenzie climbed into it and reached out--she immediately gripped his throat harshly, and Duncan’s words cut off, a sharp gasp falling out of his mouth. She crushed her lips into his, slipping her tongue against his, and Duncan moaned, the feeling reverberating against her hand. He went to lift his hands down from the chain to touch her, but Kenzie moved her head back with a snap and said “No, Duncan, do not let go of that chain,” and gripped his neck more tightly, making him gasp again. Duncan’s fingers twined back inside the links--he pouted a little. “Sorry baby.”

She climbed down to retrieve the black ribbon; climbed back up onto the chair, Duncan’s eyes watching her every movement. Kenzie moved the ribbon through the links and then around each of Duncan’s wrists three times--her heart ached as she did this, beating wildly, and Kenzie could feel the flush on her skin, the nervousness. I’ve never tied anyone up before, she thought into him. You’re my first, baby.

It’s making me so fucking hard, baby, he thought back into her. I’m fucking aching for you. Please touch me soon.

I will. But not yet.

Kenzie yanked the two ends of the velvet ribbon together--Duncan’s wrists came together with a soft slap of flesh against flesh, and she heard the sharp intake of his breath--then Ken tied the knots tight, and climbed down.

“Move your wrists, baby,” she said, moving the chair to the side.

Duncan struggled for a moment against the velvet.

“You tied me good, baby.”

Kenzie grinned at him; she felt the aching affection in his eyes as she did. My angel, when you smile that way, you set my heart on fire.

“Watch me change, baby.”

Duncan nodded; his eyes drifted closed for another moment, then opened on her again, and his cock jumped against his stomach.

Kenzie undid the button at the back of her blouse and pulled it out of her skirt, lifting it over her head. Now, let’s talk, she thought, only this way, not out loud. I want to see if we can hear everything. Kenzie undid the hook of her bra as he nodded to her.

Okay, baby. You look so beautiful. The light’s so soft on you. Your hair is like gold. I want you so fucking bad.

Prince Duncan, she thought, letting the bra fall to the floor, her little breasts free to his gaze now. Soon to be the King, soon to rule an empire. And how do you feel, my Prince? She moved her hands to the back of her skirt, pulling the zipper down, stepping out of it; she pushed her panties off her hips, turning her back to him, watching his eyes fall down her shoulders and her ass, the backs of her thighs.

Like the happiest and most fortunate man on Earth. For my beloved is most fair, most exalted among all earthly creatures, and she can see into my soul, and she’s the piece of me that was torn away, and is now found again. She’s like the moon rising over the sea, the stars in their endless turning. She is everything to me. Without her, I’m in darkness.

Kenzie shivered at his thoughts--she reached for the delicate black tulle panties first, slipping them slowly up her hips, feeling the gathering wetness between her legs push into the soft crotch of them. She reached for the sheer stockings next, sitting primly on the edge of the bed as she eased them up to her thighs, glancing up to where Duncan was tied every now and then, his back and ass to her from this angle, illuminated in soft light and shadow, his eyes piercing into her through the mirror.

Tell me how much you love me, baby, Kenzie thought. Speak it into my secret soul, press your lips there like you do sometimes. I know you can.

Oh, Kenzie. I love you like the first sweet dawn of spring after the longest, coldest winter.

Kenzie slipped the beautifully geometric bra around her torso, locking the clasps together, then gently pulling the cups around to her breasts, pulling the straps onto her shoulders--she looked up into Duncan’s wildly blue eyes, hands falling through her hair, tossing it back.

More baby, more.

I love you like the coolness of autumn after the harshest heat of crushing summer.

Kenzie slipped the suspender around her waist, the straps hanging down at her thighs; she gently leaned down to the edge of the stockings and clipped the straps into them, first the two in the front, then the ones behind, over the rise at the side of her ass and thighs, and she heard him sigh--sigh with longing.

I love you more than sunlight, more than moonlight, more than I love every star, you’re the rain in the desert, the sweet tide, the wind in the trees in the evening, the haze of sunset colors, you are more beautiful than any art I’ve ever beheld, more delicate than any shivering flower, softer than the sweetness of any fruit, Kenzie, my Kenzie...every moment I’m away from you you intoxicate my thoughts, you fill every corner of my mind--

Kenzie moved towards him now, her hands on her hips, stepping around to where he faced the mirror, his wrists bound together.

“Baby, that’s fucking beautiful,” she breathed up to him, and she trailed her hand down from his chest to the dip between his ribs, and Duncan shivered terribly under her touch. “Keep going.”

Duncan’s eyes fell closed as her hands continued to fall--to his bellybutton, then to where his cock was jumping, achingly hard, against his abdomen, red and shivering with strain. Kenzie leaned her head down and hesitated--then his thoughts began to bleed into her again, and she spit a gush of saliva down onto the head of his cock, her hand coming up to ease the wetness down. You’re like an angel--uhh, angel--you’re like a real angel, sometimes I can see the halo around you, a gold ring more beautiful than anything on earth, and it’s like a secret aura around you, like a secret part of you that only I can see, proof of your divinity--oh, fuck, baby--

Kenzie had knelt on the floor before him, hand still gripping his cock, her mouth hovering just at the head of him, her legs parted so her sex stretched in the tulle panties, her tongue snaking out to probe into the hole at the tip of his length--she lifted a hand up to grip her breast through the delicate black tulle, looking into his (sapphire, lapis, turquoise) eyes, and she said “keep going, baby,” and lowered her mouth onto him, her tongue pressing against the underside of him, and she saw his hands strain against the velvet, straining with his need to touch her. The thoughts from him seemed to muddle into colors for a moment--indigo, midnight blue, plum-wine--then they surged back into her, stronger than ever, and terrible with need.

You’re my Persephone, I snatched you from the world in the great moment of Fortune that fell on me and I brought you here to be with me, to my realm where nothing grew, and you scattered your light all over every part of me and now everything I touch here my hand comes away covered in gold that you left on it--uhh, Kenzie, fuck, your mouth is so small and so wet and so fucking warm around me--and--and all I ever want to do is fuck you into ecstatic euphoria and make you come over and over and--over--fuck--until we forget everything but each other, Kenzie, fuuuck, I wanted you to tie me up because I want you to know that I fucking belong to you, baby, I’m yours, my body is for you and you can do whatever you want to me because I will love you no matter what, I’ll love your sadness and your anger and your frustration, your need and your annoyance, your doubt, your exhaustion, your hidden dark places, your secret self, your shadow--your luxuriant, lovely shadow, I love her too, I love you, fucking fuck me baby, fuck me with your mouth, I love you forever, until the end of time and even when there is nothing but darkness, the memory of my love for you will still echo in the emptiness--

Kenzie sucked at him, eagerly, overcome, a pilling need building in her stomach, but she also felt the tears that were gathering in her eyes again--god, when I write my book, baby, I’ll make it speak like you do into my mind and my heart, baby, I’ll make it sound like you do with your lips pressed against my soul this way. Because I know you mean every word with every part of yourself, because I can FEEL you. I can feel all of you, the beautiful sincerity of you, the light that’s shining out of you every day now--you said I kindled your soul, your real soul, and I fucking see you, baby, I can see it. Kenzie could feel the head of his cock thrusting into the deepness of her throat, feel the delicate veins of his length under her tongue, against the roof of her mouth, and her eyes rolled back. Fuck my mouth, baby, beloved, fuck my little mouth, it’s for you, for your kisses, for your thick cock, for your pleasure, my beautiful Prince.

“Kenzie, can I--can I please come, baby?” Duncan’s voice was weak, pleading, raw with the edge of his release. “Please let me come.”

Kenzie came up for air, her lips slipping down the end of his wet shaft, hovering on his head. “Tell me I’m your princess first, baby, tell me I’m your angel.”

“Fuck, Kenzie, you are my fucking princess, you are my only angel, the only one--”

“Okay, baby, come now, fucking come for me.”

Kenzie dipped his cock down into her throat one last time, then leaned back as she felt him release into her mouth, hot and slick, the taste of him salt and sweet--Duncan shuddered and moaned, his eyes heavy-lidded but not quite shut, staring down at where she kneeled on the floor, letting her mouth dip open so his come fell down her chin and dripped between her breasts and slid in rivulets down her stomach, marking her as his. “Good, baby,” Kenzie licked her lips, swallowing the half of his come that had spurted into her mouth, bringing her fingers down to the white liquid on her skin, scooping it up and pressing it between her lips, swallowing that too. “Fucking good, baby. You sounded so beautiful in my mind. Like velvet. Like your hands were touching me everywhere. Absolutely everywhere.”

“I wanna make you come now, baby.” Kenzie stood as Duncan said it. She looked up at him, still licking her lips.

“I wanna order dinner, Dunny. I’m starving. Then I want us to go to bed. Then, in the middle of the night, I want you to wake me up with kisses and fuck me in the dark with your lips pressed into my shadows. Like you were thinking into me. I want you to kiss my shadows, I want you to kiss them and touch them with aching hands. Will you do that for me, Prince Duncan?” Kenzie pulled the chair over to him, climbing up and reaching to his wrists in the velvet trappings as he leaned into her, his lips kissing everywhere he could reach, her arms and the crook of her elbow and the dip of her shoulders--she worked him free and his hands came down immediately, his desperation snatching her breath away, and he gripped her with hands that she knew could rend her if he wanted it, but they wanted to hold her, and she knew that too, wanted nothing but to hold her and press her into him, which he did now with a softness that made her gasp.

“Yes. I will, I will. Will you kiss mine, too, baby? My shadows?”

Kenzie raised her head and pulled his jaw down to her--Duncan was lifting her, throwing her down into their bed, her hair tossing behind her in a gold wave, his tongue licking her bottom lip where his come had coated her a moment before, his hands pressing at the tulle she was wrapped in. Kenzie’s hands came up to his throat and pulled him into her mouth, roughly--and she thought into him as she gripped him there, tightly, the jut of his adam’s apple pressing into her palm, and he gasped into her kiss.

Yes, yes, baby, yes I fucking will. I will love your shadows as I love your light. I will press myself to them and call them fair and beautiful. For I love you. All of you. 

#millory #duckenzie #body and soul #body and soul au #body and soul fic #body and soul fanfic #duncan shepherd au #duncan shepherd #house of cards au #ahs apocalypse au #duncan x mackenzie #cody x billie #duncan x mallory #michael x mallory #michael langdon au #mallory au #mackenzie stone #mackenzie shepherd #cody fern #billie lourd #icouldrun #officialcodysfallenangels

[ramajmedia]

Nicolas Cage's 10 Best Movies, According To Rotten Tomatoes

Because Nicolas Cage is famous for making bad movies, a lot of moviegoers forget about his good movies. The gems are hidden among the endless slew of direct-to-video stinkers and phoned-in, formulaic B-actioners, but they are there. Cage is an Academy Award winner who has worked with such legendary directors as the Coen brothers and Martin Scorsese. He can do both drama, like playing a suicidal alcoholic in Leaving Las Vegas (the one that won him the Oscar), and comedy, like playing an ultraviolent Batman parody in Kick-Ass.

RELATED: Nicolas Cage: His 5 Best Movies (And 5 Worst)

So, here are Nicolas Cage’s 10 best movies, according to Rotten Tomatoes.

10 Peggy Sue Got Married (85%)

Directed by Nicolas Cage’s uncle Francis Ford Coppola, Peggy Sue Got Married is a curious take on a time travel story. It’s about a middle-aged woman who is filled with regret over marrying a jerk named Charlie, played by Cage, and wishing her life away. Suddenly, she’s whisked into the past and given the chance to do it all over again and stop herself from marrying Charlie in the first place.

However, in her younger body, she finds herself falling for Charlie’s charms again. What makes the movie work is that it doesn’t focus on the time travel aspect; it focuses on the human aspect.

9 Leaving Las Vegas (90%)

This is the movie that won Nicolas Cage his Academy Award for Best Actor. He plays a depressed alcoholic who heads down to Las Vegas to drink himself to death. However, things start to change when he falls in love with a troubled prostitute, played by Elisabeth Shue.

It’s a really heartbreaking movie, with characters that you feel bad for as you follow them into a dark psychological abyss. While most studio movies are shot on 35mm film, Leaving Las Vegas was filmed on super 16mm, which is more common in indie cinema, giving this one a less mainstream feel.

8 TIE: Teen Titans Go! To the Movies (91%)

A lifelong comic book fan, Nicolas Cage famously came close to playing the Man of Steel in a movie called Superman Lives. It was going to be directed by Tim Burton and written by Kevin Smith. However, for so many reasons that there’s a whole documentary about it, the movie was canceled by Warner Bros.

Cage eventually did get the chance to play Superman, albeit in a comical cameo appearance in Teen Titans Go! To the Movies. It’s a self-aware take on a film adaptation of a TV show that was far better-received than the TV show it’s based on.

7 TIE: Raising Arizona (91%)

The Coen brothers’ sophomore effort starred Nicolas Cage as a reformed ex-con and Holly Hunter as his cop wife. They want to start a family, but Hunter’s character finds that she can’t have children, and due to Cage’s character’s past, they can’t adopt, so they’re stuck.

RELATED: 10 Must-Own Gifts For Fans Of The Coen Brothers Movies

And then they see a furniture tycoon on the news who’s just had octuplets and decide to kidnap one of them. Things are great at first, but they become complicated when Cage returns to his life of crime by stealing diapers and a couple of his old criminal buddies break out of prison and come to stay. It’s a hysterical slapstick comedy.

6 TIE: Mandy (91%)

If you’re looking for a movie that will boggle your mind, rock you to your core, and feel like an acid trip, then look no further than Mandy. A couple are living a tranquil existence in a tranquil forest that is disrupted by a horrifying death cult and a demon biker gang, leading Cage on a violent path of revenge.

Between his rampant outbursts of violence, Cage shows real emotion in his character. It might be the weirdest movie you’ll ever see, but it’s nothing if not unique, and movies with fierce originality are few and far between in today’s Hollywood landscape.

5 TIE: Adaptation (91%)

Nicolas Cage plays dual roles spectacularly in Adaptation. When Charlie Kaufman was hired to write a movie based on The Orchid Thief, he couldn’t crack it, so he instead wrote a movie about his own struggles to adapt the novel. He also created his own fictional twin brother, Donald Kaufman, to be a much healthier, happier, less insecure, and ultimately more successful, albeit less creative screenwriter than himself.

Mainstream audiences won’t appreciate the debates about screenwriting theory and screenplay structure, but Cage is hilarious as both Kaufman brothers. Kaufman reteamed with Being John Malkovich director Spike Jonze for this equally weird head-trip.

4 Face/Off (92%)

An action movie starring John Travolta as an FBI agent and Nicolas Cage as the terrorist who killed his son as they switch faces might sound like a dreadful affair. However, in the hands of director John Woo, who leans into the absurdity of the premise, it’s actually a compelling cat-and-mouse thriller.

RELATED: 5 '90s Action Movies That Didn't Age Well (& 5 That Only Got Better)

When Cage is playing Travolta with Cage’s face, it’s fun to see him do his best John Travolta impression, and vice versa. As with all of Woo’s best movies, the action set pieces here are visceral, thrilling, and expertly crafted, both in the editing and in the choreography.

3 Moonstruck (93%)

Nicolas Cage starred alongside pop sensation Cher in this romantic comedy about a widowed woman who falls for her fiancé’s distant, angry younger brother. From that premise, it would sound like a harrowing drama, but make no mistake – this is a heartwarming Hollywood romcom if there ever was one.

It also won three of the six Academy Awards it was nominated for: Best Actress for Cher, Best Supporting Actress for Olympia Dukakis, and Best Original Screenplay. It was directed by Norman Jewison, the giant of cinema behind such classics as In the Heat of the Night and ...And Justice for All.

2 Red Rock West (95%)

The little-seen neo-noir Red Rock West almost didn’t see the light of day (and it barely did, even then). Despite having its premiere at the revered Toronto International Film Festival and being showered with praise at that screening, the movie didn’t secure a theatrical release.

It was being primed for a direct-to-video release before a movie theater owner spotted it and liked it so much that he set it off on a tour of arthouse theaters. Nicolas Cage stars alongside Lara Flynn Boyle and the great Dennis Hopper in this contemporary western that veers between dark thriller and dark comedy.

1 Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (97%)

This dimension-hopping, web-slinging ‘toon beat both Pixar and Wes Anderson to the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature earlier this year. A number of interdimensional alternate versions of Spider-Man appear in the film. The one that Nicolas Cage plays is Spider-Man Noir, a black-and-white detective version of Spidey from the Depression era.

As a whole, the movie is a riveting superhero adventure with a beautiful animation style that looks more like a moving comic book than a cartoon, and its strong emotional core ensures that the gloss on the surface has something to capture. A sequel is eagerly anticipated by fans.

NEXT: Arnold Schwarzenegger's 10 Best Movies, According To Rotten Tomatoes

source https://screenrant.com/nicolas-cages-best-movies-according-rotten-tomatoes/

#screenrant

[sublimeperfectionland]

New Moon of the Dark Kingdom Chapter Hundred and Forty Nine - Battle Royale

Zoisite and Kunzite have found true love, but when some old friends, a vengeful god, and a pair of evil twins are gunning for the Shitennou all at once, life is not going to be easy

[Scene: Metalia inferno. Kunzite lets out a savage roar as he sends a pair of energy blade flying toward Dev, who is surrounded by a web of of threads of dark energy.]

[The blades slice through the webbing, dissolving the threads they touch. At the last second, Dev leaps ten feet straight up, and the blades pass through harmlessly before returning to Kunzite, while Dev stands on a thread with his arms crossed like a tightrope walker] ]

Dev: Thanks for the help, old man. Only a few thousand threads to clear before we can reach our time door.

[Leaps down and stands passively in his previous spot.]

Beryl: [snarling at Kunzite as she works her long nails behind her summoned crystal ball] You incompetent fool! Do I have to do everything myself?

El: You're wasting your time. You can't beat us. Why don't you spare yourselves the humiliation and just let us go home?

Dev: It's no use. They have taken the Unbreakable Oath of Enslavement. We have to fight.

Beryl: A ceasefire? [bitchcackles] Those are demanded by cowards, from a position of weakness! Today is your day to die!

[Dev's eyes widen in alarm as Beryl summons forth energy and directs her gaze at his sister, but El does not look concerned]

El: Shield yourself, Dev.

Dev: Shield...myself? [uneasy] El this isn't what we practic-

El: Do it!

[Dev has already surrounded himself with a bubble of dark energy. El makes no move.]

Beryl: DIE!

[The room washes out as a bolt of pure white light flies towards El, who smiles grimly and holds up a prism. She does a back bend as she hold the prism to the light, splinting the beam into colored rays that shoot in all directions, severing the majority of the threads of magic that Metalia left behind.]

[With her back still bent, El drops a small glass object to the floor, which skitters over to Beryl, where it unfolds and enlarges, trapping Beryl frozen in a pyramid of glass.]

El: One down. Four to go. Who wants to be trapped next?

Dev: Bravo, my love! A few more shattershot attacks like this from the Shittenou and we should be able to waltz right home.

[Jeddy laughs mockingly]

Jeddy: Sorry to kill the little buzz from the little catfight, sweetheart.

[fans out into four identical Jeddy's]

Jeddy 1 - 4: But lets see how well you fare hand to hand against the masters of illusion!

[El leans forward and raises her palm to her mouth, as if blowing them a kiss. A gold shimmer fills the air, and Jeddy's 1,3 & 4 turn to face Jeddy 2. Jeddy 2 seems startled by this, as Jeddy 1 pins his arms behind his back and 3 & 4 start beating him]

[El drops a glass pyramid during the pummeling. As it surround Jeddy 2, the others vanish and the single remaining Jeddy is trapped, frozen in time.]

El: [turns and gives her brother a guilty look] I'm sorry. I seem to be having all the fun.

[Dev points to Kunzite, who is standing protectively in front of Zoisite, and Neffy, who is swaying drunkenly, smirking in amusement.]

Dev: Don't worry. You know I'm saving myself for the big guys over there.

Kunzite: [snarling at Dev] You dare to make a mockery of the Four Heavenly Kings!

Dev: Absolutely not. I wouldn't dream of taking your job.

El: [shakes her head] So mean.

Dev: Yeah? Well I'm a rotten kid.

Kunzite: And all bad kids, you could benefit from a time out. [his hair whips around and his eyes for white as a hemisphere of dark magic surrounds Dev and El]

Kunzite: Your powers cannot harm, nor penetrate that orb, and slowly very slowly it will shrink until-

[Dev steps forward placing his palms on the inside of the shield. His eyes glow white as well as the shield evaporate, seeming to suck the energy right out of Kunzite as he does.]

Kunzite: How on earth-

[El drops a glass pyramid to trap Kunzite while Zoi screams in outrage.

Zoi: ZOI!

[Zoi directs a wave of razor petals at El, but before they reach her they turn harmlessly into butterflies. She points to the cloud of butterflies and they turn into hummingbirds, who divebomb Zoi.]

[As Zoi shields his face, El drops a glass pyramid to trap him as well.]

[All alone, now Neffy looks as his trapped comrade, then back at the twins, swaying a bit drunkenly.]

Dev: So what's it going to be, Neffy?

El: Starlight attack?

Dev: Soul shadow?

El: We know how to counter them all.

Neffy: I don't doubt you do. [slurs drunkenly as he summons an apple] It's clear you two little pests have done your homework, so my magic will be worthless in this battle. And since I have no intention of being humiliated by a pair of eleven year olds, I think I will just stand here and enjoy my apple.

[The twins watch as Neffy bites into the apple. The wait warily, then Dev clears the threads separating him from his sister.]

[When they are clear, she runs up and hugs him.]

El: Dev. We survived.

Dev: Yes, but we lost the crystal.

El: So what do we do?

[Dev gives a warning look toward Neffy, who is watching them while eating his apple with seeming indifference.]

Dev: There is nothing left to do but go home. [They give Neffy one last cautious look as they walk hand in hand to the time portal, glowing darkly, still crosscrossed with hundreds of Metalia's thread of dark energy like barbed wire.] I just need to clear all these away.

[While he examines the threads, Neffy finishes his apple and tosses the core over his shoulder. He charges at Dev, giving him a swift kick from behind, sending him flying into the threads which zap him as if electrified.]

El: HEEEEY! [El scream of rage is cut short as Neffy punches her across the face.]

[Both twins are on the ground, and look up at Neffy in newfound terror.]

Neffy: Clearly this Big Daddy never told you what I used to do for a living. [laces his fingers and cracks his knuckles] You see, I don't need magic to defeat the likes of you.

#new moon of the dark kingdom

[nbodmlc]

Format: Kindle Edition

Intense and Electrifying Science Fiction

Intensely ferocious , explicitly vulgar, and incredibly suspenseful . Electrifying ! I haven't enjoyed this much political turmoil mixed with science fiction since the first time I read Dune decades ago. The Rings of Concord ,set thousands of years in the future, brings one's senses into full overdrive, seeing how in our current era of political , religious , and scientific debate,things might culminate in a future where the paradigms of all that we have believed have shifted into a cosmic hodgepodge. Nothing is too sacred ,nothing too precious that the novel viciously tears away every cherished belief,political or religious, right out of our core. The description of the advancement of technology is original,clever, and paints a beautiful picture of a futuristic solar system with a rotten underbelly. The one constant is the seeking of power and its corruption and how that hasn't changed. Nathaniel Lasley and Barbara Swanson have crafted a visually and intellectually stunning novel that appeals to the hardcore fan of science fiction but also to those who are interested in suspenseful thrillers. Be warned: its not for the faint of heart.

A witty political space oper.

Concord is a space station welcoming refugees (not unlike the USA), but this fragile “alliance" has turned into a corrupt empire hurtling towards war…alas, there’s no escaping rottenness in the Solar System. And though technology has advanced, and nonobots are great at repairing broken noses, they still can’t make a decent cup of coffee.

If you like "The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy," “1984," and Terry Gilliam’s “Brazil," "V for Vendetta," and “MOON" (with Sam Rockwell), you’ll enjoy this fun, intelligent, meaty read, with great dialogue, astute social commentary and plenty of inter-species and robotic sex written by two interpreters at Colonial Williamsburg (a historic theme park - it's like Disneyland for nerds). There should definitely be more books written by an “Aspergian" Woman and Dyslexic Man - it’s a neuro-coupling that works!

Dystopia never looked so good.

Dystopia never looked so good. In their book The Rings of Concord, Lasley and Swanson have created a smart and sexy look into the distant future. They have created a new and fascinating world and have populated it with even more fascinating people. Rings of Concord is a white knuckle ride for the mind. Exciting with lots of twists and turns. Rings of Concord is a must read. Read it now or risk becoming a reboot.

Inspired

Lasley and Swanson’s first novel proves to be an extremely creative, ambitious, and captivating achievement. If you can imagine a Blade Runner-esque Science Fiction novel written by Jim Hensen, George Orwell, and Quinten Tarantino complete with fantastic other worldly character conceptions, abundant settings, political fireworks of monumental proportions, and the never ending human desire for power and belonging sprinkled with a balanced dose of sex and violence then you’ll have a good idea of the world you’re about to enter. Fans of the genre will be pleased to discover an inspired, complex and fascinating debut by two promising authors. I highly recommended this novel for fans of Science Fiction and political thrillers!

[beeupsidedown]

Sweet Dreams | Billy Hargrove

Billy Hargrove’s favorite voice was always hers.

Warnings: Angst. death 

A/N: I’m so sorry in advance.

Billy sat quietly on the edge of his bed that morning. The house was empty, his parents having gone out to town and his step-sister running around with her small group of friends. He was alone, with nothing to do and no strength to even get dressed.

He sighed, his hand running over his face. He hadn’t bothered to shower in days now, his oily hair proof of that. He knelt down beside his bed, his bare knee hitting the cold wooden floors. His hand reached for an old shoe box that rattled when he grabbed it and gently placed it on his bed. Without a second thought he grabbed the small Walkman that sat on his drawer and threw himself beneath his covers again.

Inside the shoe box were a handful of cassette tapes. Each were labeled with different dates, some labeled with book titles or clever mixtape names. He pulled one out that was simply labeled “Billy” and popped it in.

The sound of her voice soothed him immediately. If Billy had a say he’d claim it was the most beautiful voice in the world, one that no one could ever beat. He grinned as he listened to her speak as if she were there.

“Hey Billy. I’m going away for a while so I thought I’d make you a tape so you don’t miss my beautiful voice,“ she chuckled.” You really can’t live without me, can you?”

Billy’s lips tugged at her chuckle, her words holding more truth that she could imagine. 

“I wish you could go with me. You know I hate these family vacations. Florida? Worst place in the world, Billy. All I ever get is a tan. Which I know you’re a fan of.”

Billy smiled as he listened to her rant about her disdain over the family trips. That’s all these tapes really were. Just a bunch of nonsense that was meant to soothe him to sleep the way her voice usually would when she slept in his bed. He laid there, her voice his sole salvation as he fought the feelings he had bottled up.

Before he knew it the tape had ended, her voice fading out to silence. His hand reached for the next tape, smiling as he realized it was the music mixtape she had made. It was full of awful pop and disco music that she adored. He constantly made fun of her music taste but she remained stubborn, insisting that Madonna was the epitome of all that was good.

He pushed play, listening to the cringeworthy beats and lyrics. Their music taste was night and day but he still respected her devotion to it. He listened, having long ago realized that each song was some form of “I love you” in musical form.

He fell asleep halfway through. His body was exhausted, his lack of sleep taking its toll. He rested, undisturbed and peaceful for a few hours. It wasn’t until a nasty nightmare woke him, its cruel images enough to shake him to his core. His hands desperately reached for the next tape, quickly pushing it in and hitting play.

This time it was a collection of her favorite poems. He listened to the way she read, her voice soft and full of adoration for every word she spoke. His heart returned to normal, the tears on his face beginning to dry.

“But we loved with a love that was more than love,” she paused for a moment, “Kind of like us, huh Billy?”

He found himself nodding in agreement although she couldn’t see him. They did love each other. That raw emotion was what had saved him from himself. She had taken him and showed him how to live without anger. She taught him to not let his experiences define him so negatively. She taught him to be kind, to be human. Her mere presence was enough to calm him even on his worst days, her kisses enough to let him know that life was worth living for.

She continued on reading, her voice filling his mind as he closed his eyes. He pictured her there, seated on the edge of his bed with a book in her hands. It was something he had various memories of, if only he could recreate it now.

“Alright Billy. I hope that was enough to get you through the night. I’ll see you when I get home.”

The tape came to an end and he simply laid there, drowning in silence. Finally his hand reached for another tape, grabbing hold of the newest one he had added to his collection just the week before.

He stared at it. The cassette box had been decorated with stickers and glitter along with doodles made in marker. It was nauseating, the amount of hearts that were drawn on. He pushed it in, listening to her voice once more.

“Hey Billy. Looks like it’s that time of year again. Where I go to hell and you get to listen to the same tape for two weeks straight.”

Billy turned in bed, pulling his covers closer to him. The sun was beginning to set now. He had spent all day in his room, his door shut to remain undisturbed.

“There’s no books or poems or amazing music this time,” she laughed, “no. This time I think I’ll just talk to you.”

His eyes closed as he pictured her there, her hair tangled as it spread across his pillows. He could see her smile, the sparkle in her eye always present when she looked at him.

“We just graduated. You know what that means? It’s time to plan our futures. Scary, right?”

Billy had given his future some thought by now. She was always it.

I don’t know about you but I have some plans. I want to start an animal shelter. You know, the one I’ve always dreamt about?”

Billy thought back to their conversations. She was an avid animal lover and had helped out at the local shelter during her down time. She’d even convinced him to join her in the summer where he found his mood greatly improved by the company of stray dogs. 

“We can start it together. I know you love it deep down,” she went on. “But that’s not all.”

“Billy Hargrove,” she said with a deep sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said softly, his eyes shut tightly as his hands balled into fists, holding tightly to his blanket.

“My future is with you. I see us getting married. Can you imagine that?” she spoke softly. “I’d wear a big puffy dress, not so big that I can’t dance but big enough that you’d compare me to a cupcake.”

Billy released a choked laugh, tears beginning to build behind his eyes.

“And you’d wear a suit and look amazing. God, imagine you in something like that.” Her light laughter filled his ears. “That’s something I can’t wait for.”

A soft pause and a smack of her lips.

“We’d honeymoon in California. You’ll take me to all the beaches you always talk so much about. I’ll get so tan you won’t even recognize me.”

The thought of her at the beach was something he’d imagined before. It was something he’d always wanted to make a reality.

“And then we’d find a small home somewhere. Maybe raise a few kids and some dogs. If we have daughters I know you’ll spoil them rotten.”

The sound of the front door opening fell on deaf ears as he continued to listen.

“God, we have so much to do Billy. I adore you. You’re the only man I could ever love,” he could hear the smile in her voice. “Pathetic, right?”

She laughed and he could already see her shaking her head, a clear indicator that she was joking.

“I love you so much Billy. Don’t you dare forget about me while I’m on these trips.”

He couldn’t. He would never be able to forget about her. She had changed his world forever the minute she came into it. She was the good in his life, the reason he woke up in the morning and the one girl he thought about at night.

“I’ll see you when I get home. I love you.”

Except she never came home.

A drunk driver had crashed into them on their way to the airport. The car had rolled, falling down the side of the mountain, each hit worse than the last. By the time the paramedics arrived she was gone. 

This was all he had left of her. Her voice and her promises. Her dreams for their future that would never come.

He sobbed, his wails loud enough to fill the entire home. The walls of his bedroom had been punched through, his furniture kicked in with his pain. He cried, burying his face in his pillow as his face turned red and his knuckles white as they punched the mattress.

Max fought tears as she heard her brother’s cries. His pain flooded through her as she remembered how happy he had been. She recalled the way she’d always see her in his room, seated on his lap with a smile on her face. Billy had been happy. He had changed for the better because he found someone worth living for. And she had been taken in the blink of an eye.

Max sat outside of his door until his cries quieted down. Slowly she opened his door, scared of what she would find. Her heart shattered as she saw Billy in bed, his eyes puffy and his face red. He glanced at her and said nothing, instead choosing to stare up at the ceiling as he hid his sniffling.

She walked over to his bedside, placing all of the tapes back into their box. She left one out, the very first one marked “Billy.” He said nothing as she climbed into bed with him and gently pulled the Walkman out of his hands. She switched out the tapes and hit play, snuggling into his side as the voice he loved so dearly greeted him again.

“Hey Billy. I’m going away for a while so I thought I’d make you a tape so you don’t miss my beautiful voice. You really can’t live without me, can you?”

#billy hargrove #warnings? your heart might not like this one #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fic #dacre montgomery #stranger things #stranger things 2

[mishqua]

Hi! Thank you for another fantastic chapter that I will re-read all week until the next update!

1)I just wanted to ask what your fave books or movies were that inspire or influence your writing in any way.You have a distinct writing style that I feel like can’t be categorized easily. On the one hand there are some gothic horror elements in both “Pride of A Graveyard Flower” and “I waited for you in the shadows of time” but they still seem grounded in reality somehow or at least Harry’s characterization isn’t the typical melodramatic naive archetype to contrast Lv. The atmosphere is also suspenseful and scary at times but it also has humor that isn’t jarring. So that’s why I was curious as to what might have potentially influenced you.

2) also do you ship Harry with anyone except Tom or LV? I personally ship Harry with a dark Ginny or Cedric for some reason. The reason being Ginny’s stalkerish and dark tendencies have a lot of potential imo especially when you contrast it with our oblivious dunderhead Harry. Anyways I digress XD

Hello! Thanks for being so supportive all the way💐❤️

1. My favorite book is actually the alchemist by Paulo Coelho. But who does inspire my writing style is Tolkein. I know I know.. lofty ambition and all that. But his level of characterization, world building and fantasy writing is just.. *sigh. Rather than the books I should tell you my darling creators- Arthur Conan Doyle ( his works are lovely). The ones who made imagination go wilder ( in an innocent way)- Hans Christian Anderson and Hayao Miyazaki (the mind behind most ghibli movies), Jules Verne. Bernard Shaw and Jerome K. Jerome ( three man in a boat) are outstanding when it came to humor. Rather than the slapdash comedy or the in your face funny- I rather liked when its the wit talking for you. The 1986 show Yes, Prime Minister is a good example of that.

I also like the classics more than the modern authors- like Shakespeare or Tolstoy. And I love the epics- be it Illiad, arabian nights or Ramayana. And then they made me run after the mythologies from around the world-.

I have left the movies world for a while now-too busy to sit through three hours of mind-numbing bs. I would rather watch a hitchcock with oddities than ..whatever passes for movies recently.

Of course I am never too busy for manga and anime. And they picked up my transforming years after I had gorged through books. The action filled that gave me an everlasting feeling of optimism ( everyone has something good in them- there is no black and white: ), the psychological warfares - I needed weeks to recover after I would binge on them- mirai nikki, the works by junji ito, code geass, death note... So many god . Do not go looking for mirai nikki unless you have the stomach, really.

Trust me. No book, no movies-- nothing have made me go look for sunlight and blast my ears with good songs to suppress the darkness they brought me. Yet I remain a masochist for them.

Well.. there you have it. I ate a mouthful of whatever I can get my hand on and now.. you lot are suffering through what comes out of my mind.

2. I will admit I am rotten. Rotten to the core. I go kya! with bl stuff.. explicitly filter out all the other pairing. But then I would have liked Drarry too.. but that.. just eek. (Sorry if you are drarry fan)

I ship Hplv because of the dynamics they bring. The hordes of obstacles they have to go through if they want to be together. The clash and the fire.

I love Ginny more than Hermione. Really. She is badass. Fiery and everything. But well.. I always thought she was too good for the book canon Harry? She is the queen that doesn't need an emperor. And Harry is .. I dunno.. maybe the relationship wasn't balanced enough in the book. There is one fic which had Ginny as his .. left hand. That was awesome. Your idea does hold merit though.. I can see a dark cedric seducing an innocent Harry.. hmmm..

But you aren't asking that.. sorry. I ship Harry with people with age disparity mostly. Like Sirius, even Orion. People with age and experience who can match up against his mature-too-soon mind. When I don't find them in hp world, then I go crossing into other worlds!

.... I see there is no stopping my mouth. Sorry , I got too excited!! *Shuts up and runs away.

[hitchell-mope]

Rewatched both descendants the other day and hate to say still don’t have a favourite they’re both awesome

So let’s say this is a mini review by song

First film

Rotten to the core: mmhmm we get you’re mean

Evil like me: of course Kristen chenowith puts us all to shame and it’s also rather unnerving in a subtle way

Did I mention: no Ben don’t you’re 15 not elvis

If only: aah here it comes those pesky little feelings

Be our guest: like it but it brings back memories of the painfully white version of Cadillac car from dream girls

If only reprise: pesky feelings part 2

Set it off : I suppose when you’re king you can use the school grounds as you’re own personal club

Second film

Ways to be wicked: couldn’t mals hair be like this in the first film also we’re gonna get a fantasy musical sequence in three aren’t we and the “good guys” can’t dance to save their lives

What’s my name: little louder for those I the back Uma and harry is why this film ain’t for the young’uns

Chillin’ like a villain: oh Ben honey no no no and I can see where there coming from but romance eye contact do not make but interesting hypothesis

Space between: pesky feelings part 3 but I have an inkling it was supposed to be for mal and Ben instead still works like this though

It going down: distilled awesome in 4 and a half minutes also distinct Hook vibes with the smoke bombs

You and me: PUDDLE RAVE followed by a week off with pneumonia

Now for some miscellaneous thoughts

Yes Leah we know you’re hurting but you could a least let the poor girl apologise

If belle knew the state of the isle she’d do everything in her power to get all the children off it

Adam didn’t learn his lesson of course

Mal honey talk through you’re issues with your boyfriend and you’re family

Lizard Mum still on the island

How the hell did Gaston manage to raise a kid like Gil

Harry get therapy

Uma next time come up with a plan that doesn’t copy your mother

Why the hell did we only see a bloody tentacle

Would Harry be as beloved as he is if he looked like the animated hook instead of the ouat hook

I think the cookie worked a little like hypnosis it can’t make him do something that’s against his nature and it’s pretty obvious even to me (a guy who is terrible with social cues) that the poor boy was smitten the moment mal stepped out of the limo and I’m pretty sure his being with Audrey was for PR purposes

Chad learn the meaning of personal property

Audrey has the air of the “I’m a girl so I’m right no matter what you say” problem I think plagues a lot of woman in tv and film

Dizzy if the writers let puberty ruin you I’m going after them with a chainsaw

The fans have run in to the doctor who problem of timelines there is six months between the two more then enough time for Carlos to develop feelings for Jane

Jay if they give you a haircut again I’m coming after them with a chainsaw

I actually like it that Evie started a fashion empire cause that needs a helluva lot of brains to pull off

The stench of xenophobia permeates the auradon air

Did the so called heroes besides Ben Lonnie and Doug ever stop to think maybe just maybe the vks aren’t like their parents don’t blame the baby for the parents crimes

The more I think about it if someone with Kristen chenowiths height makes people shit themselves at the mere mention of her name she must be doing something right

Cruella took gothels class on backhanded affection

Chad and Gil were switched at birth nothing can convince me otherwise

Way too many hips in both films

Has Ben never heard of a cup

When mal and Ben spawn everyone who has something bad to say about them better watch out

I can understand mals problem in the second one she spent the entire first film figuring out that what her mother wanted wasn’t for her and now she’s a round peg being taken from the square hole and put in the triangle one

I like Lonnie but I think that like a lot of people she misses the point of her mother’s story and if Mulan didn’t fight all that would’ve happened is she either would’ve not have a grandfather or she wouldn’t exist

Um Jane where do you get off being a bitch to a girl you know has magic did the new hair go to your head

Sometimes I think I’m the only one who doesn’t pair Carlos with every guy who looks at him

Mum friend: Ben dad friend:Evie

Can the dogs vocal chords please be cut in the third film cause his vocabulary is nauseatingly recent

Favourite character: mal and jay cause their hair is awesome

Hated character: Audrey and chad I don’t like their personalities

Best couples: bal huma devie

Worst couples: Ben and Audrey I think it was unhealthy

Couples I’d put together given a chance: Ben and Gil mal and jay

Couples I wouldn’t mind getting together: jaylos bevie

Couples that should break up: none of them they all work in their own way

Best songs: rotten to the core evil like me ways to be wicked what’s my name it’s going down and evil

Worst songs: almost none but did I mention is a tad cringe worthy

One last thing:

Chad your mother once did a backflip out of a rotting pumpkin driven by a demonic man cat while she was in a tattered wedding dress so imagine what she can do to your sexist little ass

One last one last thing: anyone else get Dino thunder flashbacks with maleficents make up