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#but also bc maybe he realizes there are other avenues through which he can help victims
jostenneil · 3 years
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i realize this line of thinking is more or less antithetical to everything that has made up his character for the last idk two decades but it is nonetheless something i have been thinking about
edit: honestly also how does no one ever confront jason about the fact that killing off drug lords does nothing to tangibly help the people being sold and becoming addicted to drugs. like does he (read: dc comics) realize that he’s effectively cutting off a market and as such completely blindsiding addicts who can’t handle withdrawal and are left in as debilitated a state as his own mother was. judd winick step up to the mic
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phoebehalliwell · 4 years
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Since nobody liked Billie and the Ultimate Power plotline, how would you have ended Charmed? (Because you come up with like the most awesome headcanons and should totes have been hired to write the reboot!!!)
okay so as we all know the only reason we got billie was because they really needed new blood to carry on a spin off series and i know people wanted wyyat & chris show but you can’t go to the cw in 2006 like okay we’ve got two brothers fighting magical beings there’s the snarky younger brunet brother who’s a bit of a black sheep and then his older blond brother who’s really good at this and also dad’s favorite son bc uhhhh they already did supernatural. so you know back track this is your feminist show about some magical ladies kicking ass you should get a magical kickass lady to carry your spin off hey you know who else was a kickass magical lady buffy everyone loves buffy what if we made her sorta a buffy type except okay here’s the 411 on buffy is we know she already got a lot of slayer training so her cocky devil may care i know what i’m doing and can kick ass attitude is fine be we’re following her and we’re like hell yeah But if you’re giving that personality to your new character who’s introduction is through the people trying to teach her this cocky i can handle myself attitude is actually Incredibly Annoying bc it’s obvious she doesn’t know everything and Of Course we are going to side with her mentors as we’ve been following their stories for nearly a decade now. so to fix season eight we need to fix billie.
having her be paige’s charge isn’t necessarily a bad way to introduce her into the show, but roughly everything else was. the costume (and the implication she bought it from saks fifth avenue??? she’s a college student????) the fact she would keep saying quippy one liners to demons that literally would not talk back making it feel incredibly awkward/cringy the fact that she was like an ass to paige and an insufferable know it all like. i get how these could be the personality traits of a fun character (like almost all of these are traits iron man has and his character essentially singlehandedly launched the mcu) but again having a know it all from a mentor’s perspective isn’t likable. having her in that lil costume doesn’t really match the tone of the show that’s been set so far. and her absolute abhorrence for studying and need to go kick demons ass for a buzz like. it wasn’t the character they should have given us. and here’s the thing: billie wasn’t all bad. she was incredibly smart and she was basically the first character we saw to combine magic and modern tech. this could have been incredibly interesting and y’know maybe the show would adopt it moving forward but like even when we first see her use it she’s basically showing paige “i know more than you” but we’re inclined to align with paige bc she’s a lead character who we’ve grown with. but like. paige couldn’t come up with that. that had a lot of room to do right with billie, but they really did wrong at almost every turn.
so if i were to reconfigure billie to in turn reconfigure s8, i would first start with her personality. as she’s clearly going to be the mentee to the charmed ones, the cocky know it all is a no go. instead, i might put her on a path closer to s1 piper, in which she has powers that she just knows nothing about and is worried she’s evil this that and the other but through the charmed ones she learns how to focus and hone her power while also gaining some of their confidence & sisterhood and all that. basically, working with the charmed ones, not against them. another thing that just sorta bugs me on a lore level is billie just sorta got her powers at age 20 like they were laying dormant before this but like?? it’s very much beem established young witches have powers, it’s not like a puberty thing or whatever and i really don’t think there would be any reason for them to grow into her life unprompted. workarounds for this could either be a) she was put up for adoption and was encouraged to supress her magic bc she could potential hurt others / be seen as a freak or b) some specific traumatic incident unlocked a hidden power (grishaverse think the first time alina realized she had her powers was when she was being attacked by the volcra in absolute darkness idk maybe one of them snatched mal the point is it was a moment of raw desperation in an environment best suited to unlock her powers). something like that some quasi life or death fight i can’t think of a good reason for that to happen to an average college student off the top of my head but like y’know finding hidden power that whole trope. the third option, aka my wildcard, is that the elders regift the twiceblessed destiny right then & there, and the new billie is also the new twice blessed (fully giving her the magic credentials to carry her own show imo)
building on billie’s intro, she gets acquainted with the charmed in like no earnest fashion. they are both using each other plain and simple this is acknowledged. the girls are using her to fight demons for them, she’s using them to properly teach her the craft. once again, it doesn’t really foster the relationship i feel like we would want to see from the new lead with the old lead. if i were writing this, i would have them take billie under their wing and teach her the craft, but billie being th smart cookie she is y’know does the reading and puts two and two together and is like “are you guys the charmed ones?” and by this time the girls genuinely trust billie enough to tell her the truth. it’s not a bargaining chip.
then. okay. you know how you can repress memories? like if something happened to you that was So Traumatic you can genuinely just forget that shit ever happened completely wipe it from your mind? okay. so like billie doesn’t like halloween. and paige is like you’re a college student how can you not like halloween and billie’s like idk i don’t like it. so maybe she holes herself up in the attic or whatever bc she really doesn’t want to acknowelge the holiday and phoebe’s like oh this is so my division y’know advice all that the point is she’s talking to billie and blah blah blah and she has a premoniton. and she sees christy being kidnapped and a young billie terrified this that and the other and phoebe’s like oh my god that’s why you don’t like halloween and billie’s like what? and phoebe’s like that girl? she was taken?? and billie’s like no idk who that is and phoebe like i think he name was christy and then something in billie just cracks and the memory shoots up to the surface blah blah blah
and then once again instead of really shutting the sisters out and going on some vendetta or whatever we really see the sister sorta help billie through this once again strengthening the bond between the leads we know and love and billie bc if they all love billie i feel like we are much more inclined to like her than if billie just bugs the shit outta them.
blah blah blah i’m not bringing the triad back i’m not bringing christy back until like probs the finale or the penultimate episode the main villain i think would maybe just be like a warlock faction like the underworld’s been so pummelled no triad no source zankou’s gone the avatars wiped out a fuckton of them the charmed ones wiped out even more so if you were gonna make a move for the throne the time would be now. also be we got too many demons we need more warlocks.
also, in regards to christy, having her be raised by demons is really too morally dubious like again there’s just like this debate is christy actually evil or does she just have a really warped sense of right and wrong this new christy would have escaped from them young and begun this new rough and tumble life on the road training herself becoming powerful and honestly would probably end up more like canon!billie but uhh she has the skills to back it up. with then the dynamic becoming christy, as the eldest sister and the one who’s survived on her own for years always wants to do things herself bc a) she doesn’t want billie to get hurt and b) really was an insanely low life expectancy for herself and y’know billie’s in college and could potentially have a normal life whereas christy believes herself to be too far gone and then have billie really try to be there like yes you were alone but that doesn’t mean you always have to be and sorta the softness & sisterhood we would have seen with her and the charmed ones would really carry over into her own show as she and christy really work to y’know build that bridge
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langdvnshepherd · 5 years
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Good For You ~ Epilogue (Duncan Shepherd x fem!reader)
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PART ONE ~ PART TWO ~ PART THREE ~ PART FOUR
MASTERLIST
Summary: You’re a broke ass college student whose one night stand with the infamous Duncan Shepherd leads to the development of a rather interesting relationship between the two of you.
Word Count: 4.9k
Warnings: sugar daddy!Duncan, fem!reader, smut, daddy kink, voyeurism (sort of? not really but), lost of fluff hehe 
A/N: Surprise bitch, I bet you thought you’d seen the last of sugar daddy!Duncan and Y/N 😏. Since everyone seemed to be feelin some type of way that Part 4 was the last part, I figured I’d finish them off with a cute lil sum sum bc why the hell not lmao. This also kinda fits in line with it being finals szn, so for all my thotties still in school, enjoy!! Also I barely proofread this pls forgive me. Once again, thanks for all of the kind words about my writing, it means the world to be as always!
     A set of keys rattling on the other side of Duncan’s apartment door indicated her arrival. They jangled rapidly, as if getting inside was of utmost importance. Duncan knew exactly who it was, as only two other people in the world had a key to his place. Annette, whom he’d only recently just reconciled with after the earth-shattering news that revealed she wasn’t actually his mother, had taken off to Mexico earlier that week to tend to international ties with The Shepherd Freedom Foundation, so it wasn’t her. Which led him to believe that only other person, a person he’d been thinking an awful lot about lately, could possibly be making their way into his apartment...
-
     “I DID IT!” you yelled as you bolted through the front door of Duncan’s, well yours and Duncan’s, apartment. Probably a little too loud for his neighbor’s liking, but you were too excited to give a shit. Paying no mind to behave like a civilized human being, you dropped everything at the entryway and jumped over the back of the quilted leather sofa to plummet into Duncan’s lap; textbooks, designer bag, and the obnoxiously large keyring to your new Audi (an anniversary present from Duncan), all clanking to the floor in one large pile.
     Duncan grunted in response, the weight of you crashing on top of him so suddenly knocked the breath out of him. His face quickly became consumed by a genuine, ear-to-ear smile as he remembered what you had set off to do this morning.
     “I knew you would,” he stated matter-of-factly as his arms wrapped securely and comfortably around your waist, his lips reaching over to plant a quick kiss on your lips before you told him all about the day you’d just had.
     In the years that the two of you actually spent together as a couple, you’d come to realize many things about the infamous Duncan Shepherd. One being that he loved physical contact. He wasn’t quick to expose that side of himself back when he was considered strictly as your sugar daddy, but that passing of time had made him soft. He loved touches. Even little touches like pressing his knee against yours under the table during boring gala dinners, or rubbing small circles on the underside of your ass while his head was between your legs. Duncan lacing his arms around you had become customary, part of your daily routine when either of you came home for the night.
     “The department loved my thesis. They said my research was impeccable, and that there wasn’t a single thing I could have done to improve it. I’m set to graduate in two weeks!” you gloated, and you damn well reserved the right to. 
     For the past 3 years, you’d been working on your thesis for graduate school, and it just about took every ounce of sanity you had left. You couldn’t count the number of days and nights you’d spent huddled over a textbook or sobbing into your laptop because your numbers weren’t coming out right or you felt like your argument was pointless. But Duncan was there for you through it all. He saw how drained you were for months on end, and wanted to make sure he was doing everything he could. You quit your job, finally giving into Duncan’s pleads to let him cover your expenses full time. You’d even been living with him for just over a year now, not counting the many, unofficial months prior when a large collection of your bras and underwear had mysteriously taken over drawers of Duncan’s dresser. Your roommate was pissed after finding out you were abandoning her to move in with your boyfriend, but she quickly retracted her remarks upon realizing she’d be able to visit Duncan’s lavish apartment whenever she pleased. 
     “So I’m guessing my little stress reliever really helped take the edge off for your presentation then, hmm?” he snidely remarked, referring to last night, when his fingers worked you over the edge repeatedly. You’d been up all night worrying, sleep being the furthest thing from your mind. Duncan begged and pleaded for you to come to bed, but you refused. Too many last minute diagrams to perfect and statistics to memorize before your thesis defense the next morning. He’d somehow managed to coax you into the satin of his sheets with the promise of a good night’s sleep. There was no teasing, no holding back, just Duncan making you feel so incredibly good, knocking you into a deep slumber in no time.
     “I just got my fucking master’s degree, and you want to try to make this about yourself?” you sarcastically jabbed, playfully shoving Duncan’s shoulders against the back of the couch.
     He pretended to be hurt, unwinding one arm from your waist to dramatically massage the skin where you’d pushed him.
     “I’m teasing, dove. You wanna go out? I’m feeling like this calls for a celebration. We can go to that new seafood restaurant on Pennsylvania Avenue. You have to have a reservation, but I could probably get us in.”
     “Can we just stay in? I’ve been standing in these heels for hours and I really don’t feel like talking to anyone else,” you muttered while tucking your head into the crook of his neck, the exhaustion evident in your body language.
“Of course,” he replied, resting his chin on the top of your head while brushing his fingertips absentmindedly across your forearm. “I can call in something. What are you in the mood for? Sushi? Thai?”
     “Can we order pizza from that place by my old apartment?” you asked, a cheeky grin creeping its way onto your face. You knew damn well the reaction that suggestion would get out of him. You’d gotten Duncan to eat there once, but only once. After some begging on your part, Duncan agreed to give it a shot. His upbringing consisted of caviar and charcuteries, meaning greasy, $2 a slice pizza automatically made his stomach churn. He ate it, but not without complaining the entire time. Despite growing accustomed to Duncan’s ways after being with him for so long, you still yearned for that shitty, cheesy, pumped-full-of-chemicals pizza that had comforted you on many drunken nights while walking back to your old apartment.
     Duncan pulled back from where he was cuddled into you to reveal the most genuine, stink face you had ever seen. His lips were pressed together firmly and turned down in disgust and his eyes were crinkled at the corners. Clearly not amused.
     “You’re joking, right?”
     “Serious as a heart attack, handsome,” you rattled your fingertips against his peck for emphasis, peering up at him with doe eyes you knew he couldn’t resist.
     He paused for a moment longer, praying you’d suggest something, anything, else besides that stupid fucking pizza he hated so much. He honestly didn’t see how people could stomach food like that, but he wasn’t going to crush your spirits on your special day.
     Realizing you weren’t budging on your wishes, he audibly groaned.
     “You’re lucky I have a hard time saying no to you. You know that, right?”
     “As if you ever would, Donut.”
     He suppressed a chuckle at the nickname you’d recently picked given him, still trying to seem annoyed.
     “Whatever, brat.” He snorted effortlessly flicked your legs off of his lap, sauntering towards the kitchen to grab his phone and place an order for what he considered the worst meal on the planet.
-
     Somewhere along the line, the pizza had long been forgotten. Maybe it was when you’d purposely reached over Duncan to grab the tv remote, making sure he got an eyeful of your breasts as you moved. Or maybe it was when you’d kissed him to shut him up amidst his incessant bitching about how the pizza tasted like it had been left out in the hot sun for 3 days. However it went down, you’d found yourself straddled across Duncan’s lap, his hands clutched tightly at your waist, occasionally roaming down to your ass to grind you against his hardening cock.
     You felt your core pulsing beneath you as Duncan ground his hips against yours, arousal pooling at your entrance. As old as Duncan was, he was always in the mood, ready to take you whenever and wherever. He had situated his body so that his legs were propped up on the cushions and his back was leaning against the stiff armrest, where he was able to hold your body as close to his as possible with ease. You were lost in the moment, not thinking of anything or anyone else except the way Duncan was making you feel.     Once you were able to pry Duncan’s hands from of your ass, you withdrew your lips from his with a pop. Sliding down his body, you held eye contact with him as you reached for the buckle on his belt, eyes blown with desire. Duncan had this look on his face like he was contemplating doing something or saying something, but he certainly didn’t want you to stop either. He let you undo his belt buckle and unzip his trousers, making one less layer between you and his aching cock. You pressed your lips over the cotton of his boxers, making him groan as you mouthed at his erection that was begging to be set free.     Just as you reached for the waistband of his boxers, Duncan gripped you by your wrists.     “What? Are you okay?” you stopped suddenly. Duncan was never one to put things on hold, especially when your pretty, little lips were mere inches away from where he wanted you most.     “Put your shoes on, I need to show you something.”     “You’re joking, right?” you asked, sitting up from your place between his legs.
     “Serious as a heart attack, angel,” he responded, batting his eyelashes and speaking in a sing-song voice, clearly mocking your words from earlier on in the evening. 
     “Come on, let’s get in the car.”
     Glancing down at the bulge in boxers, you gave him one last, “Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of this first?” look. He simply smiled in return, taking your hand in his to help you up from the couch.
-
     The car ride lasted for what felt like an eternity, largely due to the fact that Duncan had used one of the emergency ties he kept in his backseat to blindfold you, making you completely unaware of where he was taking you. You begged and pleaded for Duncan to tell you where you were going, but he wouldn’t budge. It was a surprise, he insisted.
     “Is it a dog?”
     “Jesus, no.”
     “A cat?”
     “Absolutely not, Y/N.”
     “A bird?”
     “Why would I blindfold you to take you to get a fucking bird?”
     “I don’t know, Dunc? Why did you throw me in your Bentley and blindfold me at 11 o’clock at night anyway, hmm?
     “Will you just drop it? You’ll see when we get there.” He was annoyed but the tone of voice let you know he was still entertained by your whining. You knew he was smirking despite not being able to see anything but the darkness that the blindfold allowed.
     “Fine, but a dog would still be nice.”
     The rest of the way consisted of silence; the whirring of the engine and the breeze of the air conditioner being the only sounds filling the confines of Duncan’s car. You tugged at the tie around your eyes, trying to stealthily catch a glimpse of a highway sign that would even slightly indicate where you were headed. He caught you every time, scolding you and sarcastically threatening to drop you off on the side of the road if you tried it again.
     Suddenly, you felt Duncan applying pressure to the brakes, the car slightly jerking as he shifted the gear to park. Finally. Whatever Duncan was planning was about to be unveiled.
     Your hand wrapped around the back of the tie, attempting to undo the knot and take in your surroundings. Duncan was quicker, swatting your hands away before you could slip the fabric away from your eyes.
     “Not yet. I’ll tell you when you can look.”
     Exhaustingly, you threw your head back into the headrest of the seat with a sigh.
     “Will you stop being dramatic? We’ll be inside in like 10 seconds.” You couldn’t see him, but you knew his eyes were rolled so far back into his head they might have fallen out.
     You heard the click of the door handle, and felt Duncan’s hand on your elbow, prompting you to step out of his car. Your shoes scraped against pavement, meaning he hadn’t driven you into the middle of the woods to kill you. What a relief.
     He guided your steps with his fingers laced in yours, oddly soothing you as your anxiety was climbing at not having any idea where you could possibly be. The air outside was crisp, slightly chilly due to the time of night. The only noise coming from outside was the continuous chirping of crickets and other critters alike. Wherever you were, it was secluded.
     “Okay, stay right there. Don’t move.” Duncan commanded, patting you once on the shoulder before leaving your side.
     You heard four electronic pings and the whoosh of a door swinging open like he was hitting buttons on a keypad. Where the fuck were you?
     Duncan’s hands were back on your arms in a moment’s notice, guiding you over the threshold of the door he had just opened.
     “Watch your step.”
     Immediately, the smell of fresh wood and chemicals filled your nostrils. Yours and Duncan’s steps echoed loudly throughout the space as he continued to lead you; the harmony of the various sounds of the outdoors no longer present. 
     “You ready?” Duncan asked, speaking low into your ear, the stubble of his beard just barely ghosting over the nape of your neck.
     “Been ready since you blindfolded me an hour ago, Dunc.” you fired back.
     Duncan was too tired to comment on any more of your whining, he just chuckled lightly in response, pressing a kiss to your temple over the thick material of the tie. 
     Antagonizingly slow, his fingers worked at the knot. He knew what he was doing, pissing you off even more by dragging it out. Duncan could feel the way you froze in your spot, your chest barely moved with each breath and your hands were frozen at your side; indicating your skyrocketing anxiety. He was nervous too, but you weren’t currently in the position to be able to notice the way his heart looked like it was going to beat out of his chest.
     The tie fell from your eyes, ribboning to the ground and pooling around your feet. And then you saw it.
     The ceilings had to have been at least twenty feet high. The walls were stark white, the one at the far end covered almost entirely with a seamless, glass window. There was a grand staircase in the middle, leading to a breezeway that overlooked the space you were currently standing in. You put it together. You were in a house, and a fucking huge one at that.
     Nothing occupied the space. No furniture, no art hanging on the wall, not a single indication that anyone even lived here. It was empty.
     “Duncan, where are we?” you asked, too entranced by your surroundings to turn around and look at him as you spoke.
     He came around to your side, wrapping one arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him.
     “Home.”
     You broke away from his hold to look directly into his eyes, unconvinced that he’d just said what you thought you heard.
     “What?” it came out as barely a whisper.
     Duncan nudged his head forwards, prompting you to follow him. He paced himself, creeping along against the marble tile. You were further into the house now, catching new details you weren’t able to see from the front door. No words were spoken, just Duncan steering you throughout the first floor with his hands crossed behind his back. There was a kitchen, a kitchen at least three times bigger than the one in Duncan’s apartment with a double oven and appliances that looked far too advanced than anything you’d ever seen. Connected to the space was what would be a dining room, big enough for a table that could seat at least twelve. Duncan stopped just as were standing in front of the ginormous, granite island resting in the center of the kitchen.
     “You made a comment a couple months back,” Duncan began, turning to face you.
     “Something about how my closet was getting cramped because of how many pairs of shoes we both had. It got me thinking. I’m older now. Got a good head on my shoulders. I‘ve got you. Why am I still living in an apartment like a twenty-something bachelor? So I started looking at houses. And then I found this one. I was gonna wait until the renovations were done before I told you. There’s still a couple more things they need to do upstairs and some electrical work here and there, but other than that it’s basically finished. You looked really happy tonight, and it made me not want to wait any longer so....here we are. Happy graduation, I guess.”
     You felt a warm tear roll down your cheek, too busy staring at Duncan to register the buildup in your tear ducts. He looked at you like he always did when he professed his feelings to you, with genuine, whole-hearted, adoration. With love.
     “This is our house?”
     “This is our house.,” Duncan confirmed, a confident smile on his face.
     “I even made them put in a bigger tub ‘cause I know important bathtime is to you. And the closet is extra roomy. But if it’s not enough, you can just use one of the many spare rooms for all of your things. I know I tend to go a bit-overboard-with my gift-giving.” 
     A silent laugh escaped your chest, huffs of air expelling from your mouth each time. 
     “Duncan Shepherd, I love you.”
     “And I love you, Y/N Y/LN. I can’t wait to live here with you.” 
     He brought you in for a kiss, cupping your cheeks in both hands as his lips melted into yours. You broke away in a smile, shifting your way out of Duncan’s grasp to look once more at what looked like the abyss that you would soon call home. 
     “Can you see it?” Duncan spoke up as your eyes wondered. “A giant sectional back by that room we first saw when we walked in, a dining room table over there. Black obviously. Maybe some plants over by the windows.” 
     And you could. You could see it. Duncan’s weird art hanging on the walls in the entryway, both of your cars parked side by side in the driveway you assumed was wide enough to back a bus into given what you were already looking at. It already felt like home, despite being an empty shell of one.
     In your trance, you’d seemed to have missed when Duncan walked up behind you, pressing his chest against your back. His hands had started at your waist; rubbing soft, soothing circles against your hips bones. Inch by inch, he ever so slowly trailed his fingers up your body towards your chest, where they were now purchased just below the swell of your breasts.
     “I can see you in here,” Duncan started, his hot breath fanning over your collarbones, littering your skin with goosebumps. “Standing in this very spot. Making breakfast in your underwear. Those cute, little pancakes you like to make on Saturday mornings-”
     “They’re crepes, Duncan. You know that.” you snickered, burrowing further into his arms and his touch.
     He kissed the sweet spot along your jawline, knowing all too well the reaction he’d get out of you. A soft gasp blooming from your lips halted you from speaking any longer. You were suddenly reminded of where you left off back at Duncan’s apartment. Already feeling the stirring in your abdomen at the thought.
     Duncan leaned forward with you still in his grasp, laying his elbows flush with the granite slab of the island. He moved his kisses from your neck to your shoulders, and then to your back just at the top of your spine.
     “Do we have neighbors?” you questioned, certain that anyone could see the two of you through the ginormous window. The lights were on and the house was empty, meaning your bodies stuck out like sore thumbs. It wouldn’t take a genius to catch onto what was happening. You already knew where this was going, especially since you could feel Duncan hardening against the backside of your thigh. 
     “Not yet. They’re building another house down the street, but even then it’s still about a quarter of a mile away,” he answered in between pressing kisses on your jugular. “Plus trees. And hedges. No one can see us, babe.” 
     “Good, because I need you to fuck me. Right now.”
     In seconds you felt the bone-chilling cold from the stone of the kitchen island pressed against your cheek. Duncan pressed you down on your stomach to lay as flat as you could on the granite, reinforcing you with his toned arm. Your arms splayed out at your sides, fingers spaced out pushing yourself down even further.
     Duncan’s other hand reached down to the hem of your dress, bunching the fabric up around your waist and resting it on your back. The warmth of his fingers caressed your ass before he withdrew them briefly to unzip his own trousers. As he freed his leaking cock from his boxers, you felt the head brush just slightly against your skin, beadlets of precum spreading across your cheeks. Duncan swiftly tugged your panties to the side, desperate to feel you against his digits.
    He started at your entrance, gathering the wetness seeping from your core with his fingertips. In slow, calculated patterns, he circles his way up to your clit, the contact making you shiver. A small moan fell from your lips, finally getting the action you sought out hours ago at dinner.
     “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping. Tell me, who is the only one that do this to you?” he asked in fake perplexion.
     “You do,” you’d somehow been able to muster throughout the sea of pleasure provided to you by Duncan and his long, skillful fingers.
     “It’s all for you. Every time, daddy.” you grinned against the coldness of the granite. 
    Duncan was content with your answer, as a low groan rumbled from his chest in response. He leaned forward once more, so his lips brushed the shell of your ear and his chest molded into your back.
    “You ready for me, love?”
    “Mhmm,” was all you’d managed to get out.
    His fingers were replaced with the tip of his cock, swirling his member along your cunt to prepare himself for the stretch. He pressed his fingers into you once more, using the collected slick to pump himself a few times before aligning himself at your entrance.
     Duncan pressed the small of your back down further against the granite, making your ass jut out instinctively to give him easier access to your dripping core. Tantalizingly slow, he pushed himself into you, savoring every inch of your walls that clenched around him with urgency. You were both breathing heavily, the melting of your bodies consuming every nerve. 
     Once he was fully seated inside of you, he stalled, looking down at your frame. The girl he’d managed to rope back in time after time. No matter how much he knew he didn’t deserve someone as loyal and trustworthy as you, you came back. Every time. Every night. To him. He never thought he’d find himself in this position. In his new house, with whom he was convinced was the love of his life, sprawled out on his kitchen counter at his mercy.
     He leaned in once more to press a tiny, close-mouthed kiss to the back of your head before pulling himself halfway out of your drenched cunt, only to forcefully thrust himself back in again.
-
     It felt like you had been lying there for hours. You were almost certain you’d have a dent in your cheek for a week due to how hard the side of your head was pressed into the kitchen island. Duncan ruthlessly pounded into you from behind, your cheek rutting against the granite with every slam of his hips while cries escaped from your lips. Your fingers grasped for anything, everything. He had one hand on your waist and the other wrapped almost too-tightly around the back of your neck to keep you in place, so you opted for gripping the lip of the counter as best as you could. But pearls of sweat coated your entire body, making it hard to hold onto anything for too long.
     The sounds of squelching skin on skin echoed obscenely throughout the empty house. It was borderline blasphemous. Chants of, “Oh my god,” “Don’t stop,” “You feel so good,” and plenty of profanities were peppered into the mix, only adding to the indecency of the situation.
     It took some time, but you finally began feeling that familiar tingle building up inside of you, causing another rush of arousal to flow effortlessly out of your cunt. It became overbearing after a while, your desperate need to milk Duncan’s cock for all that it was worth overcoming your very existence. You chased after your release by rolling your hips backward, working in sync with Duncan to fuck you deeper and harder.
     “Someone’s eager. Am I not giving you enough, little girl?” Duncan mocked through heavy breaths.
     “Just go faster, please,” you begged, fighting to let pleasure take over, but you weren’t quite there yet.
     “Please what? Use your manners.”
     “Please, daddy.”
     Duncan loosened his grip at your waist, snaking his hand around and beneath you. You felt the pads of his fingers swirl lightly over the fabric of your panties that still covered your clit, all while he continued to thrust his hips into your backside. With each cycle around your bud, he increased his pressure just slightly, drawing out moan after moan from you. The sounds falling from your lips triggered moans of his own.
     When he finally slipped his hand through the front of your panties, you were overtaken by a swell of euphoria, just teetering over the edge. You abandoned your other senses, focusing solely on Duncan and the way he was working you open with his cock and now his fingers. Your eyes were screwed shut, hearing going in and out, fingers grasping for purchase around the corner of the island.
     “What about now? Is daddy giving you enough now?”
     You couldn’t speak. Your mouth hung open, but no sound came out.
     “No? Guess I’ll have to pick up the pace then.”
     The feeling of Duncan vigourously massaging your swollen clit between his two fingers was enough to trigger your release. You came with a shaky scream, trembling as Duncan continued to fuck himself into you through your orgasm despite the fact that he was faltering himself. The hairs on your arms stood upright, your skin quickly becoming oversensitive to his touch.
     Duncan’s hips sputtered, stilling completely as he allowed for his own release. His moans went up an octave, a sign you’d grown accustomed to recognizing as a tell-tale indicator that he was cumming. You felt his warm seed spilling deep inside of you, coating your walls as he gave your cunt a few extra pumps with his cock before slipping out of you.
     He rested his chin on your shoulder, lifting you from the island and winding his arms around your waist. You could feel the dampness of Duncan’s forehead on your neck, it was cool on your fevered skin.
     “Did you do that on purpose?” you asked, chuckling as you turned in his arms to face him.
     Duncan smirked back at you, satisfied with your current state. You had a flat, bright red mark across your cheek from being thrown against the counter, the rest of your face flushed with an adorable, pink heat. 
     “Did I do what purpose?” he responded, feigning ignorance.
     “Drag me all the way out here just to fuck me as loud as you wanted so no one would hear?”
     His grin only grew wider, you’d caught onto his little game. He lifted you onto the island, placing you gently on the granite. Through the corner of his eye, he caught his cum dribbling down your thighs. Quickly, he caught the stream of milky, white seed on his pointer and middle fingers. He raised them to your mouth, pulling your bottom lip out just slightly with his other hand. You accepted them without hesitation, running your tongue along every centimeter of his digits. As you removed him from your mouth with a satisfied pop, he answered.
     “It worked, didn’t it?”
     You shook your head and laughed once more at his cockiness, grabbing him tighter and lying your head against his chest.
     “I did, Donut. It surely did.”
     As you stood in Duncan’s arms with your head to the side, you could just barely make out a swimming pool in the backyard beyond the windows of the dining room. It was still surrounded by dirt, meaning it wasn’t quite complete. Visions danced in your head at the memories that would be made beyond those french doors. 
     You couldn’t wait for this place to be finished. You were ready to spend the rest of your life here with the man you’d once thought you’d never see again. The man that did exactly as he’d promised:
He’d taken care of you. And he always would.
~
Tagging:
@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @venusxxlangdon   @ccodyfern @michaellangdong@michael-langdon-owns-my-soul @wroteclassicaly @omg-hellgirl@aveiangdon @belusima  @readsalot73 @americanhorrorstudies@langdonsdemon @ticklish-leafy-plant @michaelfuckinglangdon@fpsjacket @mother-tequila  @gold-dragon-slayer @langdonshell @coloursunlimited
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the-little-prophet · 4 years
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BDRP Questionnaire 2019
Posting this on Charlie since I actually talked about him quite a bit! Let’s gooooo
Characters: Berlioz, Hades, Kiara, Nala, Andrina, Merida, Charlie, Apollo, John, Su, Ashleigh, Nemo, Jun
Pick one of your characters and talk about their growth (we recommend choosing an older character, but it’s up to you!) What about their story has surprised you? What are you proud of? How have they changed from their original inception to now?
This one goes out to Charlie. I pitched Charlie very deceptively-- claiming he was a prophet, aligning him, at first, with Calliope, making it look like Charlie’s magic was of the classical, Cassandra-inspired kind. But all along, I knew that what I wanted Charlie to be was more of this sci-fi/fantasy blend as an homage to his movie’s sci-fi bend too. This year, I got to actually reveal that Charlie is a time traveler after two years!! This is very exciting for me! I’ve enjoyed being able to lean into Charlie’s new image systems with this reveal, even though I’m out of my depth and breaking like 67 different time travel rules, probably lol. Still, it’s been great to take him to that place, and to invent Future-Charlie as both a deux ex machina and an expression of identity/choice/free will etc etc. I did not have Future-Charlie in mind when I created Charlie, so that was something I was proud of coming up with!
Pick another character and talk a little about where you WANT them to go. What are your plans for them going into the new year?
I’m going to talk about Nemo if only because everyone else feels like a spoiler lol. Nemo, as a relatively new character though, is still full-speed-ahead on his initial goals that I outlined for him in his application. Now that Nemo’s been established in the school and he has this little group of buddies, I want:
To focus on his wing. I want Nemo to push himself, get himself in a spot of trouble, potentially injure himself.
Reveal his wings to at least one mundus friend
Continuing to infuse his posts with body image issues. This is a slow build kind of plot that really is like...the broth of Nemo’s plot-soup, lol, while training for his placement is the chicken and belonging at school is the noodles….it needs to be this throughline more than like, para a, para b, para c. at least for now.
Pick a thread or a plot that you’re proud of and talk about why you loved it.
I could pick a lot of threads here lol it’s honestly so HARD. But I think I want to shout-out to the Charlie/Jim first kiss thread because it surprised even me and Hannah. We initially planned for the first kiss to be just that-- one kiss, then we done, Jim and Charlie go on to be friends. But like in the best of cases, Jim and Charlie’s palpable chemistry actually informed more of Charlie’s arc and opened up avenues previously closed to me/Charlie since Charlie had been so SHUT to the idea of love. So! I really loved that thread. Also because like, I literally made Charlie experience the big bang after his first kiss. And THAT’S the BEST way to use magic in my opinion. Like when you can infuse magic with an emotional catharsis-- I think the other time I did that super well was similar actually, when Herc kissed Kiki’s cheek and she grew a tree in his room lol. So yeah! Some of my best writing in that thread, amazing chemistry, big surprises. It was an absolute pleasure.
In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 strengths and talk about why you think it’s one of your strengths.
-Image systems. I dragged myself for this, but I think it’s something that really helps me find a character’s voice and make myself excited to RP them! Also, I think it’s what people like about my writing sometimes. Maybe. IDK, lol. -Complex Emotion: I’m stealing this from my mentor who said I’m good at creating complex emotion and so you know its true. My most introverted characters get the bulk of this naturally--they are introspective and feely and give themselves the space to think and feel. But I really want to try to inject more into my extroverted characters. I think I’m doing well for Nemo, who had undiagnosed anxiety and so that informs a lot of his personality in very interesting-- very OPPOSITE-- ways as Berlioz; Nemo struggles with being alone because ‘alone’ means he gets too in his head. That’s been really fun for me and why he’s quickly become one of my fave voices to write (I know, u all thought it was because I am in love with Jimin (true), but no its bc Nemo is an anxious, big feeling baby and he’s always so Alive to me, plus i was made to write a fairy it was always my destiny.)
In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 areas of improvement.
-Dialogue: PERSONALLY I feel like I’m not great at dialogue. Some posts are better than others and I think I’m good at like…..texting dialogue? IDK. I feel like I struggle in paras though to craft good dialogue. It’s just, rn, average dialogue. Of course not every post needs to have hilarious, punchy, great dialogue. But do my characters sound different? Am I doing all I can to create rhythm and speech patterns? -Filtering: Im being very picky rn, because actually I don’t do this too much, but I do it enough where I’m like, I gotta go read some really stellar writers adn ban myself from using “Feel” and “think” for like a whole month. What I’m talkinga bout is like: Ber realized/ Ber thought / Ber knew. That kind of writing is totally fine, but that’s about it. I need to come up with more creative ways to talk about feelings and abstract concepts!!!
-Character: I know everyone is probably like��……….how dare lauryl put this here. But listen. I don’t think I struggle with character on RP. But outside of RP? Oh boy! The THING about RP is you MUST create a character, that’s your vessel for writing here, and so you do all that development plus u got the four years of worldbuilding informing that character, and literally EVERYTHING CHARACTER DRIVEN ITS...THERE IS NO OTHER WAY.  Outside of RP though I think I have struggled because my natural affinity is worldbuilding and shit like that. I’m type 5 baby, I am attracted to characters who let me poke at things I don’t know anything about, like even Jun, part of it really is like, petitions and grocery store management lmfadsofij. SOOOo idk I just need to be able to focus on crafting characters that are compelling vessels for the cool shit I like to do outside of RP.
Pick one of your plots, or even just a character, and come up with a list of 3-5 “mentor texts” where you can look for inspiration or research, then write a short (2-4 sentences) why you picked those texts. JOHN DARLING BREAKS INTO FAERYLAND 1. Call Down the Hawk/Raven Cycle: It’s no coincidence that my reread of Raven Cycle last winter played a pretty big part in inspiring this new version of John. The descriptions of the magical forest Cabeswater and the hunt for Glendower have the same kind of contemporary fantasy vibe that I really like for John. And of course, Ronan’s dream magic is very much intertwined with the faery realm feeling like a dream (and Ashleigh, obviously, as a dark faery who can manipulate them). More than that though, the attention paid to the psyches of each character and how they drive the plot forward is just… /chefs kiss. 2. The Mabinogian: I want to draw from these classic Welsh/British stories and incorporate them in creative ways! Or just as, like, motifs are something. :) I have tried to do this but would like to be a lot more intentional, instead of just being like lmao let me look up some random shit for this one reply~ 3. The Hazel Wood: This book deals with characters coming into the real world from a book world! This kind of goes along with the Mabinogian as I kind of ish want to do something similar, only treating the Mabinogian as a historical, cultural text as opposed to a fiction. This book also focuses a lot on fairy tale tropes (like numbers) which I really want to incorporate in John’s stuff. I want to ideally write some of my own fairy tales-- I have one in mind actually through Ashleigh but it’s related to John too since he’d the scholar of said stories.  
And now, a wishlist!
-Exploring Nemo’s disability. This is slightly challenging for me since we don’t have many fairies, but I’m brainstorming some ideas and hope to really kick it off in January, leading up to his Talent Placement Test.   -I really want to have a lot of town-centric plots for Jun. Would love to rp with the police officers! I want to have Jun try to get some ppl arrested tbh ahah, like, Fflew for loitering, or maybe reporting Mitte. I would love some arch nemeses tbh-- Mitte does seem like a good one. AND I want to submit at least three petitions next semester!! Maybe i should make that two!! Still!! -Do some Bonfamille plots. I already have something I’m really excited about and have already planned here so this is a teaser… -Keep writing essays. The fairies have been great, getting me really inspired to do these.What’s been an amazing mental exercise, and why I cannot stop writing these, is thinking about how the political philosophy of Pixie Hollow informs how it functions: technically, socioculturally etc. It’s really fun for me to basically build a communist thought project and then enact it for real. I feel like I’m learning a lot about...well, societies, lol, and how the material factors endlessly bleed into, and shape, ideas and beliefs (and vice versa). Also, I literally have to do these because when Nemo is IN the Hollow and I want to write him getting a glass of water, I’m faced with a lot of technical questions: do fairies have running water? Does he have to get it from a stream? How do they keep things cool? Etc etc. And that’s why I go off on these, and I’m excited to keep doing them, as many as I can, with feedback from my fellow fairies. Also, do want to do ones that are NOT fairy related, so we’ll see about that. -Write John backstory. He’s gone on a few other adventures and I’d like to actually one-shot those maybe lol. -Alternate Charlie Timeline: This is something that’s bopping around in my head and I haven’t found the perfect way to make it happen, but I want Charlie to travel to an alternate version of his life and get stuck. When I figure out the right way to do this, my partners will also get to rp alternate versions of their characters lol. That’s fun right!! Of course it is, we do it all the time with AUs, but this one obvi be more personal and more closely tied to canon.
OPTIONAL: Why do you RP? First and foremost, I RP because it’s writing for the sake of writing-- joy for joy. I think this is even more important this year as I’ve had to focus on mentorship writing outside of RP. RP became the place where I didn’t have to think so hard about making everything make sense, lol. It gave my brain a break so I could be less judgmental of myself and just have fun and do the most ridiculous stuff...and some of my fave stuff iS ridiculous because of that...like Nemo and Sindri making flower crowns or the ASC nonsense. It’s this kind of light, fluffy, low-stake (but still High Stake) stuff that provided me endless joy when I needed it the most. Second of all, I RP because I really want to invest in people’s creative energy. I think doing so gives back to myself. Building canon, helping people brainstorm, seeing people grow-- I feel like a proud mom when I get to have this kind of mentorship role myself. I talked to MK about this, but even though Sam left to go off and do greater things, that’s like-- to me, it was a lot like he was graduating from this weird BDRP school I’ve helped create. I felt nothing but pride and happiness for him and really felt like, if BDRP was to explode tomorrow, I ACHIEVED the thing I set out to do when, four years ago, I sat on my computer and drafted BDRP’s mission and vision and committed myself to this admin role. And THAT’S what I want ideally-- for BDRP to be this collaborative place that doesn’t focus too much on what makes sense, on sitewide plots that force people into roles. I have always wanted plots like ASC and John’s search for Excalibur to be able to exist side by side, and I think we’ve done that. Now we just have to tend this garden, don’t we, haha? May BDRP bear many delicious fruit.
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shellheadtmarc · 5 years
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okay, so.  i’ve talked to some folks.  thought about it.  took a nap.  ordered some kfc.  and what i’m gonna do, because it’s been bugging me that my endgame verse is completely out of lockstep with everyone else, being so directly comic-based, that i’m gonna offer a second, mcu-only version for the people comic-unfamiliar bc i do realize it’s kinda confusing.  and sounds kinda dumb without my i swear it’s really good write up bc it’s finals week, cut me some slack.
bear in mind that under the cut this is disorganized, out of order note jotting, and is subject to change at any time as i figure it all out and decided what to keep and what to toss.  obviously, there are endgame spoilers below.
(program: endgame)
surprise, he lives.  shocking, i know.  like what did you really expect there, idk.
so everyone’s got their ‘how he made it’ version, and as i’ve stated and have been stating for a long time on this blog, i have always assumed post-im3 tony stark has become an extremis enhancile.  he doesn’t breathe fire or anything, but it’s still a thing, it means he could take a few licks more than he should be able to and still keep ticking.
his arm’s never gonna be 100% again, and it’s  touch and go directly after for a while, because his extremis is not the kind, necessarily that makes him practically destructible, it’s to make him a better pilot for the iron man.  but he’ll pull through and take it very easy for a while, the whole works, before getting back to it.
semi-retirement is what we’re looking at.  “but amanda what-”  lemme explain.  iron man is part of the old guard of marvel.  he’s kind of an institution and a symbol, not just beating up the bad guys.  semi-retirement doesn’t mean suiting up every time there’s a jaywalker, it means a lot of other things in capacity with the avengers, it’s not always huge fights there’s a lot of boring paperwork and legal stuff and all kinds of fun things to keep him busy and involved.  he’s a consultant, he’s a mentor, he does a little recruitment.  he pays the bills.  he’s one of the reserve big guns - because no matter how you think about, iron man is a big gun in the marvel universe, people being scared to go toe to toe with him any day of the week is a for real thing.  he’s an as needed kind of ace in the hole and most of the time they just don’t need it.  so instead he works in something of an admin capacity, and with tech, and with recruiting and mentoring.
besides, he knows he’s very well starting to get too old for this shit.  he’s in his 50s now.  but 50s doesn’t mean he’s getting ready for the home, you dig?  it just means he’s probably slowing down a wee bit, especially with all the hell he’s put is body through in the last decade, no matter what extremis does for him (which extremis will, to a degree, keep him going a little longer than the average person - not by much at all, but some).  but it all ties back into that tony can’t let it alone, tony can’t stop, and tony is not that bright when it comes to learning his lessons.  smart?  sure.  but he is, to a degree, the mouse that keeps touching the button that shocks him in the maze until it finally gets through his thick skull he should maybe look for another avenue.  what i’m saying is perception and luck are tony’s low specials.  and i say that out of absolute love, but it’s true.  and in the case of morgan, his drive to not be howard is gonna play a big role in keeping him out of the suit for piddly shit to not miss things.
i love morgan.  i love soft dad tony.  i said in the beginning that was one of the only things i honestly gave a shit about.  but i’m still not sure what to do about it.  like a lot of other folks out there, i don’t like to assume relationships, i like to discuss them first (yes, even the canon ones) than maybe assuming wrong/have something assumed.  so morgan existing/how morgan exists is gonna be a case by case, thread by thread basis.  as much as i love tony being a dad (and i really do,  i feel fucking validated at his softness) we’ll just have to burn that bridge when we come to it.
as before, he’ll be working in an admin capacity, and this may include helping found other branches of the avengers in the mcu - you know, the regional branches like the great lakes avengers and the west coast avengers.
relationship status also exists on a case by case, thread by thread basis.  like i said, i don’t like to assume, it usually makes me the ass.  so lemme know where you wanna go with that - and here i mostly mean pepper.
so far, this is what i’ve got, you’ve got a good framework for what tony’ll be doing.  less suit, more admin work, because it’s just as important as anything else to keep the avengers running, and echoes back to the days of classic avengers mansion where iron man was an avenger, but tony stark was the guy that paid to keep the lights on, and those were separate people.  this’ll be fleshed out and given a real write up at some point but you can always drop by and discuss things, and if you wanna do something with this you know who to call.
(the ghostbusters bc i’m just gonna sit here and let my phone ring and wait for you to hang up bc i’ve got elder scrolls: blades to play.)
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rexylafemme · 7 years
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this precious time when time is new
things come full circle all the time. ruben touched down in nyc on saturday. micah and i trekked to laguardia to get him, laughing on the way about how ridiculous we all were in the bay, how we bet our lil ruben looks more grown now, seasoned, hehe. the last time micah, ruben, and i were together was for the full pisces supermoon in late summer, september 2015--the night before micah would move back to nyc, our last full night at our house all together. a month before ruben would leave, two months before i would leave. this time, ruben arrived in time for the virgo full moon, pisces’ opposite, in late winter 2017, the coldest, snowiest week we’ve had.
that last night together in september, we drove to alameda beach armed with paper, some stones, herbs & flowers, gifts & letters from ex-whatevers & poem drafts to throw to the ocean, ruben’s signature drink: fireball whiskey (ew), a blunt, some candles, a mini speaker. all the trappings for a spell for letting go, for saying goodbye. bitch better have my money on in the car ride there, our heads hanging out the window, boisterous--our anthem for that year (/always), being broke, undervalued, and continuously doing too much work for too little or free, retail and retail and food service and gigs and workshops and unofficial art modeling and freelance writing and recording and plans that kept falling through. now we were in the home stretch. we laid down our blanket, we set out our herbs, our stones, our candles. we sat in a triangle, wrote silently for awhile: what we would surrender to the bay, what we would leave there, what we couldn’t keep or hold anymore. also, what new journeys we needed new strength for.
we went around and said some words about what we’d written, said some sentimental stuff about each other. poured out some fireball, passed it around til it was gone--so sickly sugary & spicy like melted/liquefied big red gum, coating yr mouth and throat. we stuffed our losses in the bottle and walked to the shoreline. we fumbled trying to figure out a way for all three of us to hold the bottle while we threw it, haha. the moon hung to the left of our viewscape, leaving a moving trail of yellow on the water as we watched the bottle bobble away. i walked into the water alone up to my waist--feeling grateful, trying to absolve myself of this place and all its failures, looking up at the moon and asking it my questions about what next and help and please don’t let us lose this. hearing micah and ruben laugh from the sand, smiling to myself with love for them, sighing and crying a little. no turning back now, can’t hold onto everything, nothing is forever, and then it was over, the night. tomorrow everything would be different. just one more chip off an already broken heart. 
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“nothing’s changed!” micah exclaimed laughing as we stood propped against the subway doors on the Q train to brooklyn. ruben and i fake-fighting, the bates motel norma and norman faux-codependence theatrical game we’d play-- we all go a little mad sometimes, there’s a cord between our hearts, etc. the three of us hugging and giggling. after almost two hours of traveling from queens to flatbush, we wound up at micah and sharmin’s for game night. i was in the middle of a two-week marathon of insomnia and ptsd nights, so i was feeling raw/cranky/crazy/depleted/negative and was waiting for my affections to catch up with the present moment. ruben! friends! games! you don’t wanna go home and write by yourself, rex, you fool. it’s saturday night! but knowing when i’m like this, at night i get all weird & doubtful & dark, but reminding myself to just be myself, relax, remember what’s good, no pressure, if you need to leave, you can. and you might even enjoy yourself. and of course i didn’t wind up going home til 2am, spent and full, as suddenly the future hit--clocks springing ahead to 3am for daylight savings.
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but before that, sharmin’s friends arrived trickle by trickle until there were about ten of us.  uno, jenga, slapjack, drinks, snacks, bullshit, taboo (team names: beyonce v. solange, and ruben and i were on the solange team, the weirder, low key underdog, and we won), stories, music, nintendo, laughter, newness, familiarity. it felt so nourishing to be in a room full of working class folks, folks from queens and bk, and ruben & micah: the two down suburban qts, home people--that easiness and fluency that comes with not having to explain yourself, everyone just getting it, breathing room & shared experiences.  micah and i trying to explain all the wild connections between the people in the bay and the people out here. how i met sharmin, tanya (& tres tho only briefly), and jesse through black brunch organizing in 2014 when i was visiting home from the bay. learning sharmin and jesse both were from my qnz hood and knew my childhood bff ro through other organizing avenues. jova and reuben knew sharmin, too, and tanya and tres, jova having told me tanya and i needed to know each other way before this meeting bc of our poor white femme nyc/nj lives. later, when i moved home and jova was so right about tanya and me, and someow tres & tanya had known micah round the way (?!?!?!). and before that, when micah first moved back to nyc, he called me to talk about some amazing femme he met at the club--something that never happens for us--being so enchanted or even pursued at the club (partially bc we never even bothered to go), and as he described her, i was like, “wait, is her name sharmin???” hehehe, clearly micah can’t get enough of catty witches from queens. explaining the connections between all the ex-friends-&-lovers, too--nyc, the bay-- disenchantments & the chaos and the relief that it was all over. happy to be laughing about it now. ending stories. we have no past, we won’t reach back; keep with me forward all through the night.
origin stories. apparently, the first night ruben moved into our 668 apartment, micah and i were hosting a big party. i laughed and apologized retroactively, but it so sums up where we were at at the time. ruben said it helped him integrate tho, he felt welcomed and i remember being so thrilled to introduce him to everyone. realizing how much the three of us got each other through those two years--all the drama, all the marches, the confusion, blowouts, heartbreaks, housing scares, bad jobs, the nights, the mornings--waking up with glitter on our faces, splayed eyeliner, party carnage, or just waking up to work & life fatigue, big breakfasts, sitting in the sun on our stoop year-round. so much we shared and still a lot of room for things we couldn’t say and didn’t have to. but, how home the three of of us felt to each other then, and now, and how we extended that sense of home to others--sometimes guests sleeping over in every room of the house except the kitchen, our place a safe zone on march routes, multiple sets of people staying with us through rocky times, the big meals we’d host when i was working at  farmers’ markets & the spice shop simultaneously, pooper cat game nights, the trigger warning performance series + parties we threw out of the house. talya called our place the gay frat house (tho i have to say in defense that it was quite clean). leo sun/leo rising/leo moon trio. so familiar, so sweet, so effortless, so open. our little clubhouse, our little family. remembering is good if you don’t let it be the fear in you.
i think we felt lacking then, i think we felt we couldn’t get our footing or find somewhere where we belonged-- but looking back, we created what we didn’t have and we invited other people into it. all the adult misfits. we got burned by being open indiscriminately and it made us shrinking violets by the end, but we’re blooming again now. riding that bloom wave.
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at one point the other night, i overheard sharmin say to a friend, “aren’t they so cute? they’re such teen boys over there.” as we were sitting in a corner doing our thing. and that was always true of our vibe-- our bond full of youthful, long-lost brother feels. but, soft, feminine boys, & sometimes we’re not boys at all. 668 40th st, living one up from hell, we’d joke, which maybe is what gifted us that mythical queer fountain-of-youth gene where we look 17 forever. young leos. after long days of work + grad school madness (me) or undergrad madness (ruben), in between assignments, projects, art, meetings, shifts, we were always watching movies from our childhoods, making forts, running around in our underwear, making art on the floor in the living room, doing drag, playing board games, talking shit, pushing each other around and wrestling and cuddling and teasing each other, holding hands and being protective of each other when we had to. our intimacy--so easy & necessary & good & a balm from the bad intimacies we got lost in at times. we grew together: we all taught each other things and challenged each other, especially through our differences. bb ruben had never met a trans person before and micah and i were like “well, here we are!” and both of us so different in our trans-ness. we were all so inviting & open to excavating each other so we could be better at honoring who we all were.
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and in new york now, finally living here on my own terms, regardless of the obstacles: housing scares and failures, the last of the bad intimacies (i hope), and family, i am thinking of who i was before. the sense of un-belonging that’s had me leaving new york over and over, the pain of lineage that had me craving escape, craving to be someone else, craving to leave them all behind. while simultaneously always trying to make sense of the people i come from so i could make sense of myself: the grief i never let go of, the contradictions, the violence and the nourishment of us. how all of this and my own self within it--freakish, theatrical, full of shadows, so of them & yet so so other--had me always searching. the people, the others: i was always looking for and the ones i always found. there were the inexplicably lovable yet destructive ones who reified all of the patterns in me i was always trying to leave behind, and then i finally did. bye. and then all the people who were so new; whose influence, paired with my own, allowed us to make something from nothing-- magic, create beauty from old tragedies, whether we spoke of them or not. cosmic people, like ruben and micah, the pretty, sweet boys. boys who weren’t afraid to cry or to touch or to admit to love and fear and failure and wanting. and the three of us, whoever we are and will be, knowing our love was/is strong enough to withhold our leaving, being apart, and all of the transformations that would flush out of walking away, of change. that there would always be a road back. paths that cross will cross again!
and ruben is still here until saturday, so my sentimentality is running away with me. blame it on my wild heart. hehe.
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nemossubmarine · 7 years
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Knights of the Night Sky 6
Also known as the time I execute my first proper plot twist. Good times.
Our wonderful adventuring company makes their way in the Eternal Woods where the monks of Miakian reside.
Before that they do a bounty of some tiger killing, which I only mention bc poor Dophina has 3 critical fails in a combat that lasts maybe 2½ rounds.
Oh and on the way Jeff gets a familiar, which is a small hawk called Big Daddy.
They get to the monastery at the evening. It is build inside and around a great tree, made of several trees wrapped around each other.
Lutharin orders everyone to take their shoes off and be quiet, as the gardens are a silent place.
Lutharin himself does trip and make noise, as does Dophina.
Lutharin orders everyone to stay outside as he goes to find Tassarion, the monastery’s leader.
Tassarion is glad to meet Lutharin and upon hearing that there’s some other guests outside, he asks Lutharin to bring them in and together they have dinner, discussing what their plans at the monastery are.
Lutharin says that he think they would have to go look through the monastery’s library about the cube, since that’s an avenue he hadn’t covered with his original research.
Tassarion offers everyone a sleeping spot and asks if Lutharin would like to go for pole duty (standing on top of a pole as long as one could). Lutharin declines, but Tassarion says he was only joking.
Before bedtime out heroes go meet Lutharin’s teacher/friend Farryn, a wood elf woman, who is very fond of teasing Lutharin.
She notes that the monastery’s bookkeeper Ismene has been even grumpier than usual, which causes some concern for Lutharin.
The library awaits our heroes in the morning, as does Ismene. The monastery’s library tries to keep track of all the happenings in the world that would bring irony to balance (something bad happens - something good happens and vice versa).
Lutharin manages to ask around for some books about missing cubes, even though Ismene is very grumpy.
Going through them they find a report on a found item. An adventurer had found a bone cube in an ancient temple he had turned into a dice.
A bone dice... that Lutharin owns. (a random item I gave in the beginning of the campaign)
Lutharin is so stunned he punches a wall. At the same time Dophina’s nose starts bleeding.
Where Lutharin punches the tree opens up, and they can see blood and maggots inside.
The tree starts shaking.
Ismene asks what’s going on, and do people need to be evacuated, to which the answer is positive. Lutharin and Kendrick help.
Jeff and Dophina stay behind. Jeff turns the wood around the blood and maggots into stone.
They fall out and form a similar creature that our heroes saw in Chester.
Dophina tries shooting at it, and it doesn’t seem to be working, so our gnomes leg it.
Everyone is now gathered outside, except the monastery’s leader Tassarion is noticeably missing.
Ismene grabs Lutharin and starts dragging him towards the gardens. The others follow.
Ismene does some strange magic on Lutharin’s hand, and then plants it against the tree. The trunk opens up beneath his hand and there’s stairs going inside the trunk.
Ismene says to Lutharin to “go to the source” where he’d find “him”.
Our party travel inside the shaking and shuttering tree. They come upon a room with a big lake. On the other side they can see two figures.
Jeff sends his hawk to investigate. The two are Tassarion and an unknown elf man with very long hair, who is convulsing at the same time as the tree.
Luckily Kendrick got a Ring of Water Walking from Frank so everyone gets across (thanks  Frank!).
When there they notice that the strange elf has the ends of his legs stuck inside the tree island.
Tassarion says that they have to cut him free and asks for Kendrick to cut off the man’s legs.
Kendrick hesitates, but there isn’t much time, so he does the deed.
He and Lutharin bandage the wound, and they (Kendrick carrying the stranger) and Dophina start heading out.
Jeff and Tassarion stay behind a bit. After the legs were cut, Jeff noticed that there were maggots coming from the stumps, so he is trying to turn it into stone, just to see what happens.
It works, a bit too well, in fact, as the whole tree starts to turn into stone. 
Jeff and Tassarion take their leave.
Outside the strange man is healed and wakes up. He introduces himself as Natalain, Tassarion’s brother, and son of the founder of the monastery.
He is a sorcerer who has been fused with the tree on which the monastery is build, and has been forming it and keeping it alive.
Natalain’s and Tassarion’s mom, the original Miakian was a sun elf who left for the Eternal Woods some 1000 years ago, because something happened, and the sun elf magic has been waning ever since.
Natalain is keen on keeping the magic alive.
All of this is news to Lutharin.
Lutharin realizes that Natalain was the person who gave him his necklace. Except with longer hair.
Except Natalain denies this. He says that a human woman called Yadira saved his life some 400 years ago, and in return asked for a favor, which was using his guise as she gave the necklace to Lutharin.
Natalain doesn’t believe that Yadira was really a human at all, mostly because humans don’t live for very long.
So Natalain has finally reached freedom, but he has lost his legs, which is the greatest irony of all.
Natalain has trouble finding the fun in the situation, though he still has a long talk with Kendrick about it, so that Kendrcik wouldn’t think he is at fault.
The others try to comfort Kendrick too, though only Jeff is in any way successful.
The characters spend some time at the monastery before they head to the HQ, all keys in check.
Dophina tries learning knitting with Farryn, who has never been able to get heels right. But maybe together they can succeed.
Jeff talks to Natalain about his god, since Natalain had expressed a wish to travel. In return Natalain teaches him some sun elf magic
Lutharin is so confused he voluntarily takes up pole duty. He lasts about three days, before falling off.
Tassarion has a talk with him, apologizing for the things that he had kept secret and granting him leave to continue with his mission.
I’m sorry Kendrick that I always do these things to you. :(( At least you’ll always have Frank. But, due to scheduling, we’ll have the finale of the first arc tomorrow, so I gotta get working.
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