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#it is SUPER interesting going back to the start again and watching duncan more closely

princessphilly · 3 years

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Plain Jane Chapter 2

Word Count: 2391

CW: a mention of P K*ne, allusions to issues with alcohol, references to being in the closet

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I’m too damn stubborn for my own good. I admit it; I don’t like to lose or be wrong. I hate being wrong. Well, I hate losing money more than anything else. But I really hate losing or being wrong after that. - Journal 10/12

One year later

Jamila couldn’t help but look at Jonathan Toews as he sat at the table for this charity dinner. He really was more handsome in person than in the pictures. But the guy sitting next to him was just as good looking as him, in her opinion. He was rougher looking with long auburn hair and blue eyes and probably a good decade older than her, just the way that Jamila liked it. The only issue was… Duncs was nice but he wasn’t as exciting as Jonathan Toews. But Jamila told Shan and Mel that she was going to fuck Duncan Keith and she always got her man. Plus, it didn’t help that Jonathan always has something smart to say which made Jamila more dedicated to fucking Duncs.

But it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen. Jamila was frustrated; she knew she was gorgeous and she was used to getting her way. But Duncs had a preference for blondes and.. Jamila had no desire to dye her hair blonde anytime soon. Plus, she hated the fact that she was going to lose because then Jonathan would hold it over her.

Normally, Jon wouldn’t give a fuck that a girl wanted Duncs over him. He knew exactly where he stood with the vast majority of women and that he could have anyone he wanted. But he really, for some reason, wanted her. It had been over a year since they met and she was still hung up over Duncs. Granted, during that time, Jon was recovering from an injury and was at home in Winnipeg. Now, he was back and he wanted Jamila, even though she was supposed to be Cizisky’s girl. Jon had pulled the younger defenseman to the side and asked him about her and Cizisky straight up said that she was just going out with him as a friend to events. So Jon knew that Jamila was basically single and available.

Jamila was smiling in Duncs face but whenever he talked to her, she got angry and flustered. Jon knew she really wasn’t that interested in Duncs. He could tell by the way Jamila got closer to him when they argued that she really liked him. But the stubborn woman didn’t want to admit it.

As the captain, Jon was used to solving problems. But this was a problem that he couldn’t solve and he was becoming frustrated.

It wasn’t fair how intense those dark brown eyes were. And they had been focused on her while Jamila attempted to flirt with Duncs. Jamila had to admit she was failing and it was annoying her. He was being polite but she knew she was being brushed off.

She could hear Jonathan; “Duncs isn’t interested. Aren’t you tired of wasting your time?” All of that paired with a mocking look. She was done doing favors for Shan’s cousin. Next time he needed a plus one, he could find someone else.

“Tired of shooting wide?”

“Really, a hockey metaphor?” Jamila rolled her eyes while Jonathan chuckled. He really was tired of watching Jamila flirt with Duncs. She wasn’t his usual type but Jonathan wanted to be her type. Once Duncs made it clear that he wasn’t interested, Jonathan decided it was time to try his luck.

“Good, you’re learning about the game! But are you tired?”

“What do you mean?”

Jonathan was tall enough that while she wore 5-inch heels, Jamila still had to look up at him a bit. He licked his lips and once again, Jamila felt those unwanted shivers. Jonathan smirked before saying, “Stop pretending you’re interested in Duncs when we both know that you really want me.”

“You’re so conceited,” Jamila retorted. A small part of her said he was right but her pride hurt so fuck him.

Jonathan gave her a devilish grin. “Fuck me? We can make that happen.”

Jamila’s eyes grew wide when she realized she said that out loud. “Captain Serious? More like Captain Dickhead!” Jamila rolled her eyes as she gave him a once over.

Then Jon shocked her. “That was a bit too much, I’m sorry,” he said. The earnest look in his eyes told Jamila he was telling the truth. “But seriously, you’re wasting your time.”

Jamila sighed deeply. She knew he was right but her ego didn’t want to let her admit it. Jamila just grimaced before pushing away from Jonathan.

For the rest of the night, Jamila kept mostly to herself and Alex, nursing her wine. She was tempted to get something stronger, very tempted, but she kept herself to her one glass of wine. It helped that Alex was watching her like a hawk, as if he knew that Jamila was in a mood. As soon as he was able to, Alex made his goodbyes, escorting Jamila out to the valet.

“What happened, Mila?”

Jamila sighed as Alex’s car was brought up. “Nothing, buddy. Nothing.”

Alex wisely didn’t press it as he got his keys from the valet, opening the door for Jamila and closing it after she got in. Once he was in the car and driving away, he said, “You’ve been in a mood since you talked with Tazer. Did he say something that triggered you? I’ll tell him to back off if he’s triggering you, Mila.”

Jamila sighed. “He didn’t say anything that triggered me, per se, but you know I hate being wrong.”

“Yeah, because you’re very wrong about Duncs… I’ve been telling you that for months,” Alex cracked.

Rolling her eyes, Jamila replied, “Jonathan basically said the same thing. Then he hit on me, again.”

“I thought you enjoyed verbally sparring with him. It’s entertaining as fuck.”

“Fuck you too, Alex!”

Alex snorted as he said, “I would if I liked pussy.”

“Talking about that, have you thought of coming out,” Jamila asked.

Alex looked at the road as he thought about his words. Then he said, “I could but I feel the same ones who talk about ‘You Can Play’ and all of that aren’t as accepting as they pretend to be. I mean, Tazer would be supportive, probably Duncs, maybe Kaner, Brinks, Murph, but the rest of the guys… I don’t want to risk it right now.”

Jamila reached over, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder. That was a lot to have to deal with. “People fucking suck, man.”

“I know. Thanks for being my plus-one, Mila. I will always support you, even when people are asking me to call you names when you finally get with the captain.”

Jamila laughed, tears forming in her eyes at the idea of dating Jonathan. “That was very funny, Alex, you should become a comedian.”

Smirking, Alex turned into the parking lot of the building that they lived in. They had separate units, Jamila’s bigger and more expensive, but it was still home. “Jamila, your eyes still follow Tazer everywhere he goes when you two are at the same place. It’s a matter of time, well, it’s a matter of how stubborn you are about it.”

As Jamila walked into her condo, she thought about Alex and his words. She felt a bit bad for him; locker room culture was real and it sucked that Alex couldn’t fully be himself yet. At the same time, Jamila wasn’t fully open about her own sexuality. If she wanted attention, she could easily come out as pansexual but Jamila didn’t want her life to become a circus. Add on the fact that she enjoyed bdsm and was a submissive…. It would be a hot mess, she thought. However, Jamila knew that she didn’t have to worry about the potential reactions of a bunch of other people if she did decide to come out.

One thing Jamila did have to worry about was her thesis. It was finished, turned in, it was just a matter of finding out when she would have to defend it. Since she was graduating with her PhD this December, Jamila knew it would be before then. Not knowing the exact date was just irritating to her. Maybe once she had it, her dad would respect her more.

Jamila sighed as she looked out at the Chicago skyline. It didn’t matter anyway. He wouldn’t really care. The only ones who would were Nina, Marisa, Ms. Tracey and Mr. Vernon, Siobhan, Lauren, maybe Karesha and Desiree. Sighing again, Jamila decided it was time to go to sleep for the night.

Jon looked at his computer screen as he looked at his budget for the month. Coming back this season has had it’s ups and down so far. The travel and other rhythms of the season were familiar but at the same time, Jon had enjoyed being at home. For over a decade, Jon had lived under the grind of the NHL season plus the playoffs. There was something nice about being a home, not a hotel room every couple of weeks. The hotels were all the same, they stayed at the same places in the same cities every year. But staying in his own bed night after night had it’s own appeal.

At the same time, Jon wanted a 4th cup. It still irritated him that the team had decided to rebuild without even asking if the boys wanted to rebuild. Last season, Jon appreciated that the boys didn’t give up and tank even though the front office would have preferred that they did. Odds were stacked against them this season but Jon believed that they could make it. Once the playoffs started, it was anyone’s chance to get the Cup.

Jon sighed as he opened the Netflix app. He was starting to really feel his age this year. He was only 33 but he could feel every hit now. Plus, coming home to this new place with no one waiting for him was getting very old. “Maybe that’s why you like that girl so much,” Jon muttered to himself. He felt dumb; every time he talked to Jamila, he felt like he put his foot in his mouth. But then, it seemed like she was just looking for an excuse to tell him no.

As he mindlessly scrolled through shows, Jon felt super frustrated and ready to give up. He didn’t want to continue asking her out if she kept saying no. Jon blanched as the idea that maybe he was making Jamila uncomfortable came in his mind. As he clicked on watching Brooklyn 911, Jon decided that he was going to leave Jamila alone.

Jamila felt weird. It was two weeks since the last time she saw Jon and he was keeping his distance from her. All night, all he had done was say hi and wave when she greeted him. Jamila felt strangely bereft. Unconsciously, Jamila’s eyes drifted towards Jon more often than not during the charity auction. His black suit fit him like a glove, the crisp white shirt setting off his remaining tan. Of course, Jon didn’t wear a tie and it made him look absolutely delicious. Jamila inwardly scowled as she looked down at her water.

Jamila was attempting to be good by sticking to water instead of any of the myriad alcoholic options tonight. The last time she had wine, she had to resist the urge to down the whole bottle. Jamila sighed; she thought she could try to have a bit of alcohol but now, she was sure that was impossible. Her sobriety was worth more than trying to fit in.

The auction went pretty quickly, all things considered. Jamila made a couple small bids, there wasn’t really anything that caught her eye. Then the auctioneer said, “For our last, and surprise, auction item tonight, a date with the captain, Jonathan Toews. The winner gets to have one night with Captain Toews, at a place of your choice. Mr. Toews is a gentleman so it will be on him. Bidding starts at five hundred.”

One woman yelled, “One thousand!”

There were a flurry of bids and Jamila knew she had a screwface as she listened. One of the bidders was that bitch Frances and it looked like she was going to have the winning bid. The bids went up to six thousand before it started to slow. The auctioneer called out, “sixty-five hundred, do I hear sixty-six hundred?”

He waited for a couple of moments for additional bids. Jamila looked at her hands as the auctioneer said, “Sixty-five hundred, sixty-five hundred, going once-”

“Seventy-five hundred,” Jamila called out, raising her placard.

There was a hush as people turned towards her. Jamila smirked as Jonathan raised an eyebrow.

“Seventy-five hundred, do I hear seventy-six hundred?”

Jamila waited as she sipped her water. Frances called out, “Eighty-five hundred,” frustration laced in her voice. Jamila smirked; this was time for payback.

The eyes turned towards her and Jamila looked down at her phone. There was a message from Alex: have u lost ur mind?????

“Ten-thousand,” Jamila called out.

Jon let out a whoo, pursing his lips. This night had turned out in a way he hadn’t expected. The auctioneer called out, “Ten-thousand, ten-thousand, going once, going twice, sold, to number 53.”

Jamila rifled through her purse, looking for her wallet. She hoped she could just put it on her black card instead of needing a check. The money wasn’t a problem; the way of paying could be. One of the team’s interns came to Jamila. “Miss, come this way to pay.”

Following the intern, Jamila gave Frances a wide smile when she passed her. Luckily, Jamila was able to use her card to pay for her bid.

“This wasn’t expected,” a deep voice said to her side.

Jamila smiled. “Revenge is a dish best served cold.”

“I’m a tool for revenge? I feel like shit,” Jonathan joked.

Jamila shrugged. “I’ll let you know if I ever want that date.”

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Jamila walked away. She still felt some satisfaction winning the bid over that bitch, but something told her she made a crucial decision in some way.

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ring-a-ding-dumbass · 3 years

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Companions as Hallmark Christmas Movie Love Interests

Happy Holidays!! I’ve been watching a LOT of bad Christmas Movies, so here are the companions as Hallmark movie love interests! (I’ve left out Codsworth, Dogmeat, Strong, and DLC companions.) [disclaimer: I know most jobs listed in these do not work in the way that I will imply, but that’s pretty standard for these kinds of films, so I’m rolling with it. Also, most of these are based off of SOME movie I’ve seen this Christmas, so obviously it’s not going to be super original. They’re Hallmark movies; they’re not supposed to be ‘good.’]

Note: I’d love to expand these into a fic, but I really don’t have the free time right now. If anyone is interested in taking one of these ideas and running with it, please do!! Just tag me when you’re done so I can read it!!

Cait- Cait owns a bar and she has a strict “No Christmas” policy. No Christmas music. No singing Christmas carols. No decorations. She hates the holidays because she thinks that all of the happiness and love that they inspire is a bunch of BS. She say’s it’s all fake for the sake of Christmas cards and holiday specials. One day, you’re the last patrion in her bar, and Cait slips on some ice while she’s locking up. You take her to the hospital and she has *gasp* AMNESIA. You let Cait stay with you because you can’t find any friends or family of hers, and the hospital can’t keep her. To your surprise, this Cait actually seems to like Christmas. She treats everything like she’s learning about it for the very first time. She’s not all soft and lovey-dovey, sure, but she doesn’t mind the peppermint bark and ice skating and snowball fights and eggnog. As she begins to get her memory back, she gets colder, and she opens up to you that the reason she hates Christmas is because Christmas never meant anything to her as a child. Her parents were mean to her 24/7, and that didn’t stop around the holidays, which is why Cait was always so certain that Christmas cheer was a hoax. Cait regains her full memories, but because of your re-introduction to the holiday, she doesn’t mind it as much anymore. She’s no santa claus, but she does stock up on peppermint vodka and candy canes for the bar, and wears a mistletoe headband during December, which you always manage to take advantage of.

Curie- Curie is the owner of a flower shop in North Pole, Alaska. Every year, more people move out of town, and Curie has to try to sell more items during Christmas, which is her most profitable season. You’re a character actor who works as an elf for a mall santa agency, and this year, you’re sent to the Fairbanks/North Pole region. One day, you go to see the sights in North Pole and meet Curie while she’s working in her shop. She’s running around like a chicken with her head cut off. You ask if she’s busy, and she mentions that she just lost her only employee to the local Build-a-Bear. She charms you, and you apply on the spot. After she hires you, you realize that there’s a well dressed real estate executive that comes in at least once a week to hit on Curie. She explains that he’s been offering to help her business in exchange for a date, but she won’t do it. As you and Curie ready up for the Holidays, you realize that you’re really compatible. You have fights with the fake snow used for window displays, you help organize flowers in the walk in freezer together and bring hot chocolate in when it gets too cold, and you start sneaking kisses to one another when you have to retrieve an order from the back. One day, the business man comes in and tells you that he’s buying the land that your shop is built on unless you can afford to pay an astronomical hike in rent. Curie begins to worry that she’ll have to sell her shop, but you promise her that it won’t happen. Together, you come up with the idea to sell Christmas packages online, so families who live far away from each other can send a little piece of christmas to other family members for the holidays. The idea takes off. Not only are you able to sustain the hike in rent, but you’re able to pay for your own land to move the shop, so Curie will never have to worry about rent again. You never go back to the mall santa place, and you run your shop with Curie for years, making a comfortable living in a cozy town.

Danse- Oh, Paladin Danse-- He’s the son of the president, and one of the best generals in the country, and he’s getting married. You are the baker for his wedding. One day, when you’re trying to haul a prototype cake to the other end of the capitol building to put on display to show Danse and his future spouse, you turn a corner and run into Danse, covering the both of you in cake. You don’t recognize him, and he doesn’t introduce himself, but offers to help you in any way he can to rebuild the cake. He insists on helping, so you let him, which sparks a friendship between you. Once the cake is ready, you bring it back upstairs, to find Danse and his spouse ready to look at the cake. Danse and you start speaking when you run into each other in the halls, and one day, he asks you on a walk around the grounds, where he confesses to you that he doesn’t personally feel attracted to his spouse, but it must be done for the good of the country. Just before his wedding, you confess your feelings and Danse runs off. The wedding comes to a halt and nobody knows why until Danse shows up to tell his future spouse that he can’t go through with this because he is in love with someone else. He approaches you as you’re cleaning up the confectionary table and tells you that he has to be true to himself, and that means being true to you.

Deacon- You’re a server working at a diner in a moderately large town. Deacon comes in one day and introduces himself as the new hire. You train him, and he’s kind of terrible, but he makes you laugh. You slip him your number after a week or so of light flirting and banter, but he turns you down. You leave to let Deacon close, but realize that you left your phone at the diner in an embarrassed hurry. You head back to the restaurant and find Deacon snooping through the boss’s files! After you catch him, he confesses that he’s an undercover spy, sent to keep an eye on your boss, who is suspected of using the diner to launder money. Now that you know, Deacon brings you on as his partner, and swears you to secrecy. You two go on a cute stakeout, have researching sessions together, and slowly fall in love over the course of December. At the end of the month, you come in for a shift to see your boss being arrested, and Deacon isn’t there. It isn’t until Christmas eve that you get a knock on your door. Deacon is there with takeout. He explains that his boss decided to go in without asking him, and they forced him back to the office, barring any outside contact until he could provide a full report. He confesses that he has fallen in love with you, but has also lost his job because of it, because he confessed to breaking cover. You reunite with a warm kiss and warm takeout, and, now that you’re both jobless, you start a P.I. agency together.

Hancock- Oh. Oh. Oh. BAD BOY CELEBRITY gets in trouble with his publicist over general bad-boy-scandalous behavior. YOU are a choir director for a low income rec center in a small town and you are putting on a Christmas Pageant. You don’t have the funds, but eventually the publicist finds out about your little operation, and she is ALL over it. She brings Hancock in to work with the kids and she brings an entire media team with him. He’s arrogant at first, and doesn’t even remember your name for the first few days, but you notice a change in him as you begin to work together. As skeptical as you are, Hancock really connects with the kids, and really seems to care about the Christmas Pageant. While you’re there, the kids start teasing you two, and implying that you have crushes on each other. In the end, The publicist scores him a comeback story and interview on a national morning talk show, but it would mean missing the pageant. While it seems like he’s chosen to go to the talk show, he changes his mind and arrives just before the pageant with flowers to apologize. After you accept his apology, the kids push you two under some construction paper and white puffball mistletoe.

MacCready- RJ is a single father who is still getting over the death of his wife. He has yet to move on in part due to his son’s illness. You are an heiress to a rather large fortune, but you’re told that you have a year to get a job and learn about good old fashioned hard work before you’re allowed to have access to the fortune. You start out with no discernible skills, so you become a babysitter for RJ. He goes to work in the evening as a security guard and you take care of Duncan at home. Duncan confesses to you that things haven’t been the same since his mother died. One night, you decide to ask Duncan what he wants for Christmas, and he tells you that he told the Santa Claus at the mall that he wants his dad to be okay. One night, RJ comes home and confesses that with the holidays coming up, he doesn’t know if he can afford to keep paying you to watch him every night, to which you reply that you’d gladly work for half salary. One night, you two stay up until Duncan has to get up for school, just talking about your lives. MacCready starts inviting you on outings with him and Duncan. One day, after RJ loses his job and can no longer to afford medicine for Duncan, you confess to him that you’ve been rich the entire time, and that you can pay for it yourself. MacCready accuses you of lying to him this entire time about who you are, and he asks if he can ever trust you again. You tell him that omitting to your fortune was a lie, but your feelings for him never were. You two make up, move into a house together, and Duncan thanks you for granting him his wish.

Nick Valentine- Did someone say GHOST ROMANCE? Yes, I did. You inherit a small farmhouse from an old relative that you haven’t seen in years. You go to get a good look at to see if it’s even salvageable, and you find that not only is it relatively well kept, but things move when you’re not looking. You spend the night and are woken up in the middle of the night by someone rummaging around in the attic. You find Nick, and you threaten to call the police. He’s polite, and promises it’s not what it looks like, but tells you not to call the police. When you do, they show up to find nothing in your house. Once they leave, you turn back, and Nick is in your house again. He explains that he’s a ghost, and for some reason, he can only be seen by the deed holder of the house, which is why your relative hasn’t been to the house in years. Nick explains that he died in this house a few decades ago, but he doesn’t know how it happened. Determined to figure it out in hopes that it can help him pass on, he was looking in the attic to see if it might have any proof of how he died and if foul play was involved. Over the course of your investigations, you two become good friends, and as much as you want it to be more, you tell yourself that it could never happen. Together, you slowly piece together that Nick was murdered just before proposing to the daughter of someone who used to own the house. As you and Nick celebrate this information, you realize that Nick hasn’t passed on. Nick explains that ghosts can’t pass on until they feel they have nothing to leave behind. He explains that he has grown attached to you, and doesn’t want to leave you behind. You move into the Farmhouse with Nick where you two live until your spirits can both pass on together.

Piper- Piper is a journalist who has been tasked with writing a weekly features column about Christmas, but she has found herself disillusioned with the holidays. She thought she’d be getting a Christmas bonus that she could use to buy Nat something special, but there was never a bonus, and money is really really tight. You’re quite literally the child of Santa Claus who has been sent out into the world to be with the people and really learn what the true meaning of Christmas is before you start your apprenticeship with your father to be the next in line. You meet Piper at charity event where you’re gathering toys to send to low income communities. After Piper interviews you, you start asking her questions, and upon seeing that the cold world has turned such a warm heart into a Christmas cynic, you decide to give her the Christmas of a lifetime. I’m talking ice skating, light shows, snow on christmas, and Nat getting a few extra presents. On Christmas eve, you’re called back to the North Pole. Your dad wants you to start your apprenticeship with him on Christmas by seeing how it’s done. You tell him that you can’t, because you have your own duties this Christmas, and he’s proud of you for that. You tell Piper about your dad, and she doesn’t believe you at first, but after bringing her and Nat to the North Pole to see it all happen, she apologizes for not believing you. You kiss, and agree to split time between the North Pole and Piper’s hometown, because you would never make her give up what she loves.

Preston- You grew up in a small town, but moved to the city to get a job at an ad agency. Around the holidays, your agency notes that they’re looking for something more down-to-earth and rustic for their new ‘winter campaign,’ so they send you to your hometown for Christmas. They’re expecting a campaign plan by new years, but while you’re trying to do your job, you find Preston, selling Christmas trees at the local Christmas tree farm and greenhouse. He teaches you to slow down, and to appreciate a christmas built on family, camaraderie, and love. You use your ad/social media experience to save his dying christmas tree farm. At the end of the year, you decide to quit your job and stay with Preston, who brings you on as a partner in the business and in life.

X6-88- X6 is a loan company executive who has been sent to audit the inn that you have been taking care of since your spouse passed away years ago. He’s quite serious and no-nonsense, which clashes with the capacity for compassion that you clearly possess. He thinks such traits are inefficient and pointless. Despite that, you include him in all of the Christmas dinners and events that you have planned, even if he’s not enthused about them. Through the Christmastime events that you plan for the inn throughout the Christmas season, X6 realizes that you’re not just all heart and no head. You have great ideas, and you’re inclusive of him even when he’s pessimistic. He uses his own knowledge of your loan plan to outsmart his own company and save your inn for the time being. He decides to leave his job in the city to live with you at the inn so he can handle the business and finances.

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twdmusicboxmystery · 3 years

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TWD 11x03: Hunted - Details

Okay, let's talk details. At the beginning, nearly everyone gets hurt and then gets separated.

***As always, spoilers abound below for episode 11x03: Hunted. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

I noticed that in the opening credits, we now see the two rows of hanging bodies to represent the Reapers.

Maggie:

Elijah tries to help Maggie but is yanked backward and disappears. We don’t see him the rest of the episode. I really hope he’s okay. ☹

When Maggie is walking around alone, we see a car with an open door that's emphasized. It reminds me very much of this shot from 5x09.

@wdway also noticed some chevron symbols in the parking lot. (Chevron Theory)

She passes the dumpster before she actually gets into the mall building. That might be called back to Glenn. She also uses glass alcohol bottles as a warning system. I'm sure I don't have to explain the parallels there.

There's definitely a rat thing going on here, which is important because of 10x21, but I can tell you that we see (hear) it in episode 11x04 as well. I just noticed the subtitles tell us that there are rats squeaking quite a lot. After finding Negan and Alden, Negan pushes for Alden to be left behind. He doesn’t like being on the road. He says the plan is bad and unsafe.

Then they hear screaming and run toward Agatha. Duncan is hurt and clearly not going to make it. He says, "We were good. We were lucky." Both Beth lines. Maggie puts him down after promising to get Agatha home.

Now, that’s interesting to me. I said yesterday that we’re seeing a replay of Beth through many of these story lines, and I focused on Alden as a proxy. But I think Agatha is one, too. Just the fact that they talk about getting her “home,” makes her a proxy. Meanwhile, she doesn’t make it “home.” She’s bitten by a walker and left behind…in a mob of walkers. This is also where Negan drags Maggie away while she screams, “no!” Maybe indicative of her emotional response (not to mention her screaming in the parking lot of Grady) over losing Beth?

Jumping back a bit, before Agatha’s death, Maggie’s group travels through the woods. Negan and Maggie have an interesting exchange. Negan says of himself, "people change." Maggie says that no they don't.

So once again, it's called back to Beth dialogue, but Maggie is specifically harboring a belief that was the opposite of Beth's. That people don't and can't change. It's obvious that Maggie is on a very destructive path right now. She doesn’t really have faith in people, or faith that everything will work out okay. We can't be sure where this is going, but it's interesting. As I've said before, I'm sure this attitude of hers will probably end up causing drama down the road.

They happen upon a burnt walker that's tied to a tree with the sign that says Judas over his head. This super interesting. I know I have a lot of asks about this in my inbox. My first reaction is that we can tie it to the burnt walkers from 6x06, which was bursting with Beth symbolism. Since it’s obviously the CRM who was responsible for those burnt walkers, you have to wonder if there's a CRM tie here.

We might also be able to tie this to the Governor’s episodes in 4a, where he found several decapitated corpses wearing military attire that also had signs near them like ‘murderer’ and ‘rapist.’ If nothing else, this shows that someone in the area is actually burning people for betrayal and labeling them as Judas. Doesn't exactly bode well for our group. But we don't know whether this was the Reapers or somebody else.

***Update: I wrote most of this post before seeing episode 11x04. I still think we can tie this burnt walker thematically to 6x06 and the CRM, but in terms of what is literally happening in this season, let’s just say this burnt walker will make a lot more sense after watching 11x04. I don’t want to give spoilers beyond that.***

Just before Maggie's group reaches the chapel they end up leaving Alden at, they pass green car. I don't think it's a Gremlin, like the one we saw in 7x05, but it's the same shade of green.

And of course, we see the cross outside the church. Beth was wearing a cross bracelet in the hallway of Grady when she was shot. There are plenty of holes in the roof of the church (Hole in the Roof Theory.) At one point, Alden even says, "I'm dead weight." That was the name of 4x07, the Governor episode where they found the decapitated corpses.

At the chapel, we caught an interesting snippet of dialogue from Negan. He tells Maggie “the sun is going down” and that she’ll have to make a decision. We’ve always thought Beth would return with a dawn theme, which might mean literally that we’ll see her with a sunrise or something. So, it made me wonder if the “night” will be them fighting the conflict with the Reapers and then will return with the new “dawn.” Something like that. It might be literal or just thematic. We’ll just have to wait and see, though.

Maggie finally agrees to leave him behind, but she struggles with it mightily. They even have this really on the nose line where she says, "you better be here when I come back." And he answers, "you better come back." Think about how that would relate to Beth's arc.

Carol:

We see Carol and Kelly returning to Alexandria together. They have this whole thing where Magna thinks Carol is giving Kelly falls hope and wants her stop.

They also seem to be setting up something with Carol and Aaron. I'm not sure what it is. They're kind of at odds in this episode because he wants her to help with the walls and she wants to go track the horses. I thought it was interesting that Angela Kang, during the Inside Look bit, went out of her way to say that Carol and Aaron are not enemies. They're still good friends but they have different ideas about how to deal with the current crisis. I feel like they're setting up an arc with the two of them together.

When Carol was out looking for the horses, she finds Rosita. Rosita is scavenging MUSHROOMS. This part was super interesting because Carol tells her not to pick a certain type of mushroom unless she accidentally wants to make baby cocoa high for about a week. This is meant to be a joke, but it fits into the hallucination theory. I've noticed several mushroom mentions throughout the seasons. It’s an ongoing theme that I think ties into things not being as they seem, or a character to misunderstands or is deceived by something.

As I told my fellow theorists, I sat and thought about this for a minute. It's a little bit odd to me that they included Rosita’s response. When Carol says the mushrooms will make them high, Rosita answers, "yeah, but only for about a week, right?" It's meant to be a funny of course, and it is, but why put in a timeframe for the hallucination?

The only thing I can think of is that maybe it's a hint that the hallucinations or misconceptions people have been laboring under are about to fall away. That includes Daryl and Leah, but we can also extend it to Beth. If she lived, as we think she did, and TF think she died, then their belief in her death fits into the hallucination theory. Just thought that was interesting.

Rosita joins Carol in searching for the horses. At one point, she tells Carol about some dreams she's been having. (Kind of interesting to mention hallucinatory mushrooms and then talk about significant dreams, no?) Apparently, she's been dreaming about Abraham. She says he's trying to tell her something, something she supposed to do, something about Alexandria. But she can't actually hear what he's saying. (Hear no evil.) And just when she gets close enough to hear him in the dream, he gets shot in the head.

This is interesting on so many levels. First of all, dreams. We had the episode 6x12 of FTWD, titles, In Dreams. Abraham is a man Rosita once loved, and has lost. Most obviously, Abraham didn't die of a gunshot to the head. He died when Negan killed him. So, it feels like an excuse to mention someone being shot in the head. And of course Abraham was often a proxy to Beth. I’m definitely side eyeing this.

The other thing about this is that I've been noticing for a while that they have some big arc for Rosita coming up. They’ve done several sequences where she’s searching for weapons but is unable to find them for a time. She usually eventually finds them and uses them to somehow save the day or turn the tide of the conflict.

We saw this in S7, and the weapon she found was Dwight, who defected and helped them win the war. We saw it during the warehouse sequence in S8 where she and Michonne were trying to stop the singing truck from going to the Sanctuary, and Rosita ended up with the rocket launcher. It’s a pattern that’s been happening for a while. I don't know how this dream of Abraham ties into that, but I’m wondering if this arc they’ve foreshadowed for several seasons is about to start playing out.

I don’t have a whole lot more to say about Carol tracking the horses, as I went over the most important stuff yesterday. I'm assuming that in this episode, that Kelly is equating the dead horses with Connie, and that's what upsets her so much.

After we see the horse run away from them, Kelly says, “fourth time’s the charm,” which means that was the third time they’d attempted it. (Rule of Threes).

When they get back to Alexandria, Carol cuts one of the horse’s throats to slaughter it for food. Aaron comes to help her, and he looks at her very compassionately.

This is also where we get the shot from inside the church with the broken window. We see Kelly come out and hug Magna, but then still go with Carol. Just really interesting symbolism there about her not giving up hope of finding her sister. I can't help but wonder if Kelly will go with Carol to look for Connie and end up finding Beth. That would be super interesting.

It also reminded me of something that happened during S9. There was an episode where Kelly got lost in the woods and Daryl and Connie went to find her. They had this really weird before-the-opening-credits sequence where we saw what was clearly a Whisperer, rather than a normal walker, coming up behind Kelly and reaching out for her, as though she was about to get kidnapped or taken prisoner. But that didn’t actually happen.

When Daryl and Connie find her, she's on her own in the woods and just dehydrated. There's definitely hallucination quality to that sequence, but I’ve always suspected it was a foreshadow of something in the future. Anyway, this is just conjecture and I'm just rambling, but these are some of the thoughts I had while watching the episode.

The kids:

There couple of charming scenes of all the kids playing together. We see them play a card game—Slap Jack, I think—at the kitchen table. Many people have noticed that this kitchen table looks a lot like the one in Alone that we saw in the funeral home. And no, it’s not the same. It doesn’t have a diamond on it, but the material and pattern look similar. Which is kind of interesting.

Actually, to me, the design looks a little reminiscent of the All-Seeing Eye, which is often seen on paper currency. So, it could be part of that theme.

Most of these are just cute scenes and Angela Kang says that part of the reason for them is that they wanted to have Judith and Herschel interact a little bit. People have also pointed out to me that when Herschel asks if any of them have ever been on the road like he was with Maggie, Judith says no, “Not like that.” Actually, she has been, but she was just too little to remember it. But this may have been a subtle reminder of 5x12.

Herschel is clearly worried about his mom and the adults who keep leaving. Judith does her best to console him. Not sure what to make of these conversations in terms of what they foreshadow. Maybe nothing. But I did enjoy watching the scenes.

Father Gabriel:

The man Gabriel kills is named Nichols. (Got that from the subtitles.) We hear him reciting the Lord's prayer as Gabe approaches. I also noticed that his shoes are not on. They are on the ground on the other side of the tree from where he’s sitting. Which might be part of the Lost Shoe/Foot symbolism.

He has an arrow in his stomach (it looks like Daryl’s) and he’s bleeding from the neck. The neck wounds are interesting because Father Gabriel got one too. It's almost as if these two mirror one another.

I mentioned this yesterday, but Gabriel says, "God is not here anymore." Just wanted to mention it again because it will be important to remember for next week when we get into 11x04.

Okay, I think that's all I have in terms of details. Anything I missed?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth his alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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missnight0wl · 4 years

Note

Who do you think is the mole?

Merula is the mole

And I’m not saying that because everything bad has to be Merula. It truly makes the most sense, and as soon as I realised it, I was like: “Well, duh! Obviously!”. I’ll try to explain everything the best I can, but first, I want to address some basic things about the mole, proving that Alanza is probably NOT our culprit (as I believe she’s one of the most common suspects in fandom). I already talked about it a little in other posts, but I want to organise everything and maybe add something.

To begin with, there’s a lot of evidence that R is watching MC ever since they came to Hogwarts or at least Y2. There was someone contacting/controlling Ben when the cursed ice appeared. In Y3, we even got a warning Letter From No One:

In Y4, someone was controlling Ben again. In Y5, MC AND Ben were attacked by someone, and it’s still unknown whether or not they were under Imperius too. Someone unleashed a Dementor on Hogwarts, and R knew that MC defeated it as soon as it happened. Someone, who’s description fit a Red Cloak, moved the portrait which trapped Beatrice later.

And of course, each vault every year was allegedly tampered by someone, causing the new curse to occur. In Y5, someone made Rowan draw their wand on us, and while it was implied that it was Pettigrew, it was never confirmed. Either way, R had never problems to take actions at Hogwarts. Moreover, they seem to be well aware of our every move. MC also sometimes talks during classes that they feel like being watched. So, if R was successfully pulling strings all those years, even without Rakepick, why would they bother now to bring Alanza to the castle? Especially that there was a huge gap when Rakepick was already gone, but Alanza was still not there! It could’ve been as long as six months, judging by Ben’s comment before Rowan’s death that they’re well into the sixth year. And quite a lot happened in that time! For example, we found the letter from R to Jacob. There’s no way it was left by accident, and while it’s possible it was placed by Jacob himself, it doesn’t change the fact that R didn’t need Alanza for that. So, again, why would they need her exactly?

Admittedly, the way they talked about it in the recent chapter:

… does make it sound as if the mole is someone SENT by R. However, I believe it’s just unfortunate wording because in that case, it could be only Alanza (and as I said, it just doesn’t really make sense). Like, none of our friends was “planted” by R. Even if they were recruited before coming to Hogwarts, they were simply kids in school-age anyway. It could be about a teacher or something, but they’re all the books canon characters. Unless it’s about the new DADA professor we haven’t even seen yet, but I doubt it.

Now, I think we can all agree that the mole is most likely another student. Sure, an adult would have more influence among the staff, maybe access to more places, but they also wouldn’t get as close to MC, and I assume that’s the point – to know what MC’s doing. Although, when I’m looking at the examples I listed above, I have to say that it’s possible that there is somebody else involved (other than the mole), but still, one of our peers would be the best as the source of information. So, without further ado, let’s explain how Merula fits into that puzzle.

YEAR 1

From the very beginning, Merula talked badly about Jacob because of his obsession with the Cursed Vaults. But then, something’s changed after our first duel, and even MC pointed out how odd it was.

I wouldn’t be surprised if R reached Merula at some point before that conversation and convinced her that the Cursed Vaults are real and very much worth it to search for them. Alternatively, Merula knew about it already when she came to Hogwarts, and then it’s connected to the Devil’s Snare accident. This idea is based on my other theory that Jacob made a deal with R that he’d join them IF they wouldn’t hurt MC. The deal was valid for the first two years; however, if R used Merula to hurt/kill MC, their hands would technically be clean.

YEAR 2

I wrote about it in the past during my replay, but there’s quite a lot of material so I’ll just leave a link here. It’s very important for this theory, though, so please, go and read it to fully understand my thought process.

YEAR 3

This is the year when we found Jacob’s room. And if you claim that Merula can’t lie or hide important information: she can. She didn’t tell us about Jacob’s room for at least a year, and she probably wouldn’t tell at all if we didn’t find our brother’s notebook. Also, there’s a possibility that she took something from there:

Was she lying, though? What could she take? What did she do with it?

Later the same year, Merula was following us to the Library AGAIN (the Vault of Fear), as she was ALSO following us back in Y1. When you think about it, Merula follows MC quite a lot, also in later years… Eavesdropping on MC and Talbott, learning that we’re an Animagus (in the “Animagus Adventure SQ”, so separately from Talbott’s situation), sending Ismelda to eavesdrop on us when MC wanted to leave Hogwarts in Y6, following us when we practised Protego with Jacob… She also knows that she can manipulate MC emotionally. The Frog Choir TLSQ anyone? Even if she wasn’t lying then about her mother, she still had no problems to use her suffering to influence MC and get what she wanted.

YEAR 4

Well, as I mentioned in the post linked in YEAR 2, this is the year when Merula was openly working with Rakepick. If you want to believe that Rakepick is evil and was always a member of R, that’s pretty much it. Perhaps Merula wasn’t aware of that, but still.

Although, what I believe is that Rakepick wasn’t a member of R, but she knew they’re using Merula. Therefore, Patricia “took care” of her for two reasons: 1) so Merula stopped being a pain in the ass for MC, 2) so she could control R’s influence on Merula.

YEAR 5

Here’s where things got a bit complicated because of the events in the Portrait Vault, and a lot depends on what’s really going on with Rakepick. Still, here are some possible explanations:

If Rakepick is evil and Merula was really tortured: Rakepick used Crucio on Merula even though she’s their mole as a punishment for getting too attached to MC. I personally don’t feel close to Merula at all because Jam City fucked up her writing, and so I have no reasons whatsoever to like her. However, they basically skipped to MC and Merula being friends whether you like it or not, so here you are. And Merula was supposed to get close to MC but not like them.

If Rakepick is evil, but the torture was staged: R needed MC to suffer, but they didn’t want to actually hurt their mole.

If Rakepick is not evil: The torture was staged, but Rakepick told R that Merula should be punished for getting attached to MC (so R THOUGHT that Merula was really tortured but she wasn’t) OR they agreed to that, so they’ll make MC suffer without hurting their mole.

YEAR 6

Again, because it depends so much on what’s really happened in the Portrait Vault, it’s even more complicated than Y5, so… I’ll try to explain what I personally believe is going on.

Rakepick staged the torture scene with Merula, and no matter if R thinks it was real or not, she also instructed Merula to keep R believing that she’s their mole. Merula is still delivering R information, but perhaps it’s possibly limited or maybe she even lies about some things to them. I’m not sure what to do with Rowan’s death here (or “death”), but I don’t think Merula was expecting that. I imagine that she thinks that Rakepick screwed everyone over and plays on her own entirely. If that’s the case, she might want to continue to be R’s mole if she believes that it’ll help her expose Rakepick eventually. I mean, if she just told R: “Hey, she doesn’t really work for you”, Rakepick would probably weasel out of it somehow.

Merula being the mole also goes along with Jacob telling us about the assassin being after MC and Merula (Y6Ch6):

He apparently talked about the Wizard in White then, but now we know that he actually isn’t an assassin. So… how did Jacob make that mistake? I mean, if the Wizard in White wanted to take MC to R so they’d join them, they HAD TO have a similar approach towards Jacob. In fact, they wrote to Jacob about joining them after Duncan’s death. Why Jacob thought that they’d try to kill MC now?

Well, it’s simple: it’s not real Jacob and he works for R. Why R wanted MC to think that there’s an assassin after them, though? Well, it’s based on my old theory, but… I don’t buy that the Wizard in White is a member of R. I believe that he was supposed to help MC somehow. R wanted MC to know that there’s an assassin so they’d be distrustful towards new people (including the Wizard in White). What about Merula then? I see two explanations which could coexist: 1) R wanted to scare Merula so she wouldn’t reveal to MC that she’s the mole (when she heard about an assassin being after her, she could’ve connected the dots), 2) Merula is more impulsive than MC, so if she was expecting an assassin, she’d attack him with the intention to hurt or kill, getting rid of the Wizard in White and R’s problem.

(I know that the part about the assassin doesn’t work in the light of the recent chapter, but I’m still trying to figure it out, and I might write a separate post on how the Wizard in White is not a member of R.)

Also, not that it’s super solid evidence, but Merula was the one who suggested that the mole might be among the teachers:

Yeah, there’s some logic in that, but as I said at the beginning, I think we can all agree that it’s way more likely that the mole is a student. I’m not saying that Merula is trying to buy some time before she’s discovered, buuut…

Anyway, I’m almost certain that Merula is the mole. I even hope for that because it could be a very interesting plot: Merula who started from despising MC and wanting to harm them, starting to appreciate the value of friendship and questioning her actions. Of course, it’d be even more interesting if Jam City put any effort in her redemption arc, but oh well. It’s also kind of brilliant that Merula created that rivalry with MC when it comes to the Cursed Vaults, and she did it so well that we don’t even question WHY this rivalry exists. That maybe it’s just an excuse to gain information and pass it on. I mean, look at our conversation in “Flying Solo” TLSQ”:

Merula is so casual about it that MC is not even particularly concerned about her getting information on the Cursed Vaults. You know, they say the darkest place is under the candle...

#long post #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm spoilers #hphm mc #jacob's sibling #merula snyde #patricia rakepick #hphm jacob #wizard in white #hphm r #the mole #theory #hphm theory #ask #dalekofchaos

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certifiedmoth · 5 years

Text

Mine (Part 1)

Duncan Shepherd x Michael Langdon x Jim Mason x Reader

Summary: Y/N arrives back in D.C. where she attends an event and comes face-to-face with the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: Not really any, a bit of angst and a little of conflict between Duncan and Michael

Notes: Okay I have to be honest, this is actually the first thing I ever wrote when I started this tumblr but the 1st draft was rough (oof) and I just left it to gather webs as I worked on my other fics, so now here it is!! All fixed up and pretty. I’m really excited about this new series and don’t worry, Jimmy will make an appearance soon! (credit to @spellman for the gif)

___

You didn’t know that he would be here tonight but there he was, staring at you through eyes of crystal, a painful reminder of the life you left behind here. Being back in town wasn’t easy and having to get back into the hang of things and attend events such as this one was even less pleasant. So much schmoozing, sketchy politicians and unnerving stares from older men – It all left you feeling irritated and ready to leave just minutes after you had arrived with your date.

After walking in together, the gentleman you came with briefly left your side, kissing your hand and announcing he wouldn’t be gone too long. You were more than happy to not join him while he made his rounds and introduced himself to just about every influential person in D.C. Hanging back and people watching was just fine with you. It was hard to be back here and you were hesitant on jumping back into the shark tank, weary of the bloodthirsty crowd that made up D.C. You tried best to hide your glares as you peered at drunken senators and CEOS, but you were sure if anyone glanced your way, they’d be sure to see just how miserable you were. You almost hadn’t noticed the brunette staring at you from across the room, but, then again, you never could miss those piercing blue eyes. They shone like a lighthouse calling you home in the midst of a storm.

He was surrounded by a group of men and their wives – All dressed to the nines, all ridiculously self-indulgent and pretentious. You could tell that somebody was in the thick of a story from the obnoxious laughs that permeated off of the walls. Heads rolled back in laughter while champagne was drawn to lips, but all of his attention was on you and only you.

The beautiful woman standing next to him was the second thing you noticed. With her arm intertwined with his and her body leaning against his tall frame, she smiled at the businessman-turned-storyteller. A bright smile, a vision of pearly whites. She was the type to draw you in and swallow you up whole before you knew what had even happened. Such an ugly thing, you thought. How horrible and dull she must be to buy into whatever this businessman was gloating about. But when it came down to it, you didn’t know her or what she was like, not really anyways; you were just sickened by the thought of seeing him with anybody other than you.

With your mouth agape and dreary thoughts circling around in your head, you came to the hard realization that these feelings weren’t yours to have. You hadn’t seen him in years and you tried desperately to remind yourself that you had no right to feel any jealousy when it came to Duncan Shepherd. But as hard as you tried, you still felt he belonged to you – That he was your person.

Nerves came over you, causing the negativity around you to deepen and you immediately turned around, not wanting to face what was in front of you. You hadn’t expected to be in his presence tonight and you certainly didn’t expect to have this reaction. Not knowing what to do, you found yourself pacing around the crowded room, walking anywhere that wasn’t in his general direction. A part of you missed him and wanted to run into his arms like how you used to whenever you two were apart from each other. But another part of yourself deemed those thoughts to be crazy and you held yourself back from embarrassing yourself. Too many things now were holding you back from gaining the confidence to walk up to him. So many things going through your head… How you had left things, how many years had actually passed since you last saw him… how you were practically strangers now. This person, who used to be so close to you, now a stranger. It was such an odd thing. Such an odd and completely terrible thing; a pain spread through your chest thinking about it.

You knew you’d have to speak to him eventually, but that was to be put off for as long as possible. You were sure that with your nerves, you wouldn’t be able to string a single sentence together – Not at least, without a drink in you. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for tonight. With your date nowhere to be found and your anxious self needing shelter from Duncan’s searching eyes, your feet carried you towards the bar.

The harsh liquid cascaded down your throat, lessening your anxiety. Before long, you found yourself feeling positively calm and in a happier state as the bartender cleared the two empty drinks next to you that, thankfully, did its job comforting and silencing your thoughts. You had thought you had been truly clever sneaking a hidden spot at the bar, but the man you were hiding from still managed to find you.

When you were younger, Duncan always could find you, no matter where you were or what situation you were in, he always found his way back to you. You weren’t sure how he did it, but it appeared things hadn’t changed even after all these years. His cologne was actually what you noticed first. The familiar scent wrapped around you and comforted you like a hug from an old friend.

He casually sat in the seat next to you, the soft sound of his hand combing through his hair sent a shiver through your body. You didn’t dare look his way; you instead focused on the dark counter of the bar top while memories of the Duncan you had known danced through your head.

Duncan ordered a whiskey for himself and a vodka soda with lime for you. He must have remembered it was your favorite. You relished in the sound of his calm voice after not hearing it for so many years. It was deep and husky. Intimidating and soft, all at the same time, and it warmed you to hear it once again. Tension filled the air as you both sat in silence, waiting for the bartender to give you your drinks.

The familiar, comforting drink was finally placed in front of you and you mumbled a quiet “thank you”. That’s when the boy you grew up with turned all of his attention to you and simply stared. Stared with that same intensity he always managed to save just for you. The way you saw it was that you had two options: Either jump into his arms or run for the hills. But instead, you chose a third option; you took a sip of your drink and thanked the alcohol gods for it being strong. The bartender must have sensed the tension and felt bad for you. Nervously, you turned your attention to the familiar handsome brunette dressed in his all black ensemble and sheepishly muttered out a small, “Hi.”

The laugh that escaped him was not expected. A genuine laugh, one that reminded you of hot summer nights spent with him in your teenage years.

“That’s all you have to say after all this time?” You thought he might be angry with you, but when you looked into his eyes, you saw anything but anger. He was happy to see you, actually happy, and that gave you all the confidence you needed.

You delicately touched his arm, looking into his eyes that searched your face longingly and suddenly, you wanted to know everything about him. Everything that he had been up to since you last spoke, everything about his life now – You wanted to know it all.

“How are you, Duncan? I’ve missed you.” Your voice was small and sincere, your words a direct knife to his heart. He let out a breath that you both didn’t know he was holding, and gazed at you while taking your hand in his.

“I’ve missed you, too,” the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing a smile that didn’t carry to his eyes. “I’ve been good... Busy with work, and whatnot. I’m working with the foundation and on my app, so that takes up a lot of my time. I, uh, apparently still have time to attend these events, though,” he chuckled, looking down at his drink, too overwhelmed by the soft and loving brightness in your eyes.

You had always been so gentle with him, so caring – It was one of his favorite things about you. He urged himself to look up at you. He had waited years to finally see you again; he’d hate himself if he blew his one chance to look upon and savor your beauty now. “But, I’m more interested in how you are. What have you been doing all these years?”

He rubbed small circles on your hand with his thumb and looked at you longingly, just as he always had. It was as if nothing had changed, and you were both two happy-go-lucky teenagers in love. “Well, you know, college was fun… and super easy considering how much of a genius I am,” you joked, rolling your eyes and receiving a chuckle from the sparkling man next to you.

“If I remember correctly, it was math that you particularly excelled at, yes?” And there it was. The snarky humor you grew to love so much from him. You missed it more than you cared to admit.

The two of you joked and reminisced on the countless nights you both spent studying for whatever math or history test you were determined you were going to fail, and whatever art project Duncan desperately needed your help on. His unfortunate art skills always put a smile on your face, even now as you brought up the one painting he did of you in high school. He charmingly covered his face with his sleek hand, hiding himself from your laughter, which only grew at the adorable gesture from the usually dominating man.

You decided to spare him any more embarrassment and continued with your conversation, “After college, I spent some time in a little town in southern California, where believe it or not, the people are even more stuck up than they are here.” You shook your head, laughing while he smiled at you. That dazzling smile that never got old.

Pulling yourself out of the daze you were trapped in as you stared at his beauty, you started to feel a little more confident with yourself as your third drink settled in your veins. “I met somebody there, actually… We were together for a pretty long time and things were really good,” you nodded drunkenly. “But then things stopped being good and he eventually broke my heart, so I left,” you frowned, stumbling through your words as memories flooded you. “He was very sweet and I loved him, but… I don’t know…” you trailed off, lost in your own thoughts and pained by the memories.

“You tend to do that.” He stared at the drink in his glass, swirling its contents around in his hand.

Your eyes shot up, “I tend to do what?”

“Leave.”

You stared at him in disbelief, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes; afraid you’d see something, some hint of an emotion you weren’t supposed to see.

You opened your mouth to question him, your nerves kicking in once again now that you were finally going to have the conversation you had been putting off all night. But that’s when his date reappeared, latching onto his free arm and leaving very little room for you to be there.

“There you are! I’ve missed you,” her words slurred as she glanced your way, a look of indifference coming over her at the sight of you next to her date. He breathed in, turning his attention to this strange mess of a person and gave her one of those smiles you had grown so fond of in your early years. You suddenly felt very awkward being there.

Somehow, you felt even worse than before your anxiety-induced meltdown. Seeing Duncan with this person, you were struck back to the reality of your life and reminded that your own date was somewhere roaming around. You looked up at the two people in front you and politely excused yourself before Duncan had a chance to say anything.

You spent what felt like forever looking for the man you came with. He had said he wouldn’t be gone long, and you had held him to that, knowing that he wouldn’t want to be apart from you for too long. But then, you went and hid for a majority of the event, making it especially hard for him to find you. This was only karma, as you circled what seemed to be the eighth time trying to find his familiar handsome face. You made your way through the event, talking to important and boring people, drinking more and more champagne, but felt a surge of disappointment deep within you when you had no luck finding him after an hour or so. Your stomach rumbled, causing you to groan, which is when you decided to momentarily give up on your mission and make your way to your absolute favorite place at these types of events: the area with food. The people watching was great and entertaining, but it was honestly the drinks and food that kept you sane at events such as this one.

You were shoving something mouth-wateringly delicious into your mouth when you glanced around at the partygoers and nearly had to do a double-take. You saw from across the room, Duncan talking to a familiar man with shoulder length blonde hair and you nearly spit out what you were chewing on. The remnants of your meal were swallowed, along with the nerves you were experiencing and you hastily made your way over to the two, feeling the need to intervene.

Their conversation immediately died down once you waltzed over to them in your flowy gown, inserting yourself right into their personal space. You looked between the both of them as they turned to you and noticed the expression on your face that was silently screaming “What the hell is going on here?”. Duncan’s eyes softened and your date’s lips turned up into a charming smirk. The beauty of both of them side by side together was blinding, and caught you a bit off guard, but you quickly decided to focus your attention on Duncan.

“So, you’re who stole my date away from me.”

Duncan’s mouth parted and his brows knit together in confusion as he, a second later with realization setting in, did his best to hide his disapproval with a stealthy cough. You came here with someone and he had been so gullible to think that you had been here alone, as if he had your attention all to himself for the evening. But he didn’t. You did come here with someone else. And apparently, he had just been enjoying his conversation with that person, which only made the pain he was feeling worse.

“Michael, here, was just telling me about his company,” Duncan replied in a calm voice, taking a sip of the whiskey in his hand. He always knew how to play the part of someone who was ‘calm and collected’, even if he felt his heart breaking and the anger in him rising. “But I know how you don’t like talking about business, so I won’t bore you with the specifics of our conversation.” You glared at him playfully, scrunching up your face at his familiar condescending tone while he chuckled, finding your reaction particularly funny and adorable.

Michael looked between the both of you, sensing something and not liking in the least bit how it made him feel. “Oh, I think she’d surprise you. Her interests, it seems, has changed over time. I assure you she quite enjoys it now…” Michael looked at you through sultry eyes as a smirk graced his lips. He was, of course, referring to the other day when you had marched into his office, wearing nothing but his favorite lingerie under your coat, on a mission to surprise him with a lovely bit of roleplaying in his place of work. The memory of you bent over his desk while he acted as your boss, disciplining you and spanking you, caused you to lower your head in embarrassment, trying to hide the warmth that had sneakily crept onto your face.

Duncan noticed the sexual undertone of what was said and how your gaze suddenly averted his eyes. It told him more than he ever wanted to know about yours and Michael’s relationship. He felt a surge of anger flow right through him, causing him to tense his jaw and squeeze his fist shut tight. Needing to retaliate and wanting nothing more than to put the much too confident man next to him in his place, he cockily tilt his head and charmingly spoke, “Knowing her for as long as I’ve known her, trust me… I’m more than aware of what she enjoys.” If Michael was upset by his words, he didn’t show it. Nothing seemed to ever affect this alluring man.

“If that’s what you prefer to believe,” he smiled smugly, his eyes not leaving Duncan for a second, who was growing more and more infuriated by the second. Not to mention, how sick it made him feel to see Michael’s gaze linger over your body in the way that it did.

You honestly didn’t know what to think of the situation unraveling in front of you. On one end, you didn’t know if you should be flattered that these two beautiful men were practically fighting over who was more dominant and worthy of your attention. On the other end, you didn’t know if you should be insulted by the way in which they were talking about you.

The three of you stared at one another in silence, eyes saying more than words ever could. The air became thick with tension until Michael grew bored and finally chimed in. “Well this has been lovely, but I do believe I see that senator I’ve been meaning to talk to. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” He placed his lips gently to your hand while staring threateningly into Duncan’s eyes before parting ways and leaving the two of you. You looked at the back of his golden hair as he disappeared into the crowd, silently pleading for him to come back so you wouldn’t be left alone with Duncan. With no distractions and no one to interrupt you two now, you were afraid there was no way to avoid the big and uncomfortable conversation that needed to happen.

“Y/N…”

You looked up into his blue eyes and he stared back at you with so much admiration, so much softness – It made your heart melt to see him like this.

“Can we talk… Please? We didn’t exactly get to talk earlier and I feel like we really need to talk,” his eyes searched yours, hoping and praying you wouldn’t run away again. “I really wasn’t expecting to see you tonight; hell, I didn’t even know you were back in town. Why didn’t you tell me? Nevermind. I’m sure you had your reasons…” He shook his head as a million thoughts crossed his mind. “But I wish you had told me. You know, you can tell me anything...” You were reminded of the transparency you two had in your teenage years and it felt like a dagger to the heart. “You just really caught me off guard and especially with how we left things the last time and now you just show up and you’re so beautiful. God, so fucking beautiful. But now I’m rambling. You know how I ramble when I’m nervous and you also know I’d never admit that to anyone but you and I’m just sorry, I don’t know what to say-“

You covered his mouth with your hand and let out a small, sad laugh, “Duncan, it’s just me.” He immediately calmed down at the sound of your reassuring voice and even more so when you took his hand and guided him to an empty hallway, deep in the building and far from any prying eyes. The noise of the party just a mere whisper to the both of you now.

“Look, we do need to talk about things, but I’m just… not sure how to,” you looked down shyly.

He took both of your hands gently in his and smiled softly at you. That amazing smile that never failed to give you butterflies. The type of smile that normally would have set your heart ablaze, if it weren’t for the way it didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes were truthful and showed how hurt he was; it left you feeling vile for having been the cause of his sadness. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N…” He paused for a moment, not knowing how to continue.

“After you left, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was so torn up. And I understand why you left, but it still really fucking hurt after finally getting to be with you after all of those years,” his hands held onto yours tighter. “Growing up, all of those other girls were just a distraction to take my mind off of you, you know that… I was positive that you didn’t share my feelings, and didn’t know how to deal with it,” he shook his head, feeling like a stupid teenager again. “But then, that day happened. You remember? Right after graduation when it was just us sitting in that field next to the lake? And you told me how you truly felt and suddenly everything in the world made sense and it was as if you brightened up everything with just those few words.” This time his smile carried all the way to his eyes and you sighed contentedly. “I swear, it was one of the best days of my life. Since we were 10, it’s always only been you. Always. And then I finally had you all to myself, and nothing made me happier. And we had that summer together and it was amazing… but then you left. And that- that fucking broke me,” his eyes left yours and guilt set in once again as you looked up at him.

“Duncan, I can never begin to explain to you how much those months meant to me… But, please know that I was just as torn up about leaving. It shattered my heart having to say goodbye – But I had to leave.”

“There were schools in D.C.…” He pointed out, remembering the day you came to him and explained how you were moving across the country for college, all but breaking his heart into millions of pieces.

“I had to get away, you know that, Dunc.” The corners of his mouth turned up at the familiar nickname and he let out a small sigh.

“I know,” he nodded his head in agreement; still hating that you left, but understanding why.

“It’s hard being in DC, surrounded by all of these power-hungry people; you know it was always hard for me.” He pushed his own sadness away and rubbed small circles against your hands while hearing your soft voice speak to him. “Even though leaving you was hard, I have to admit that it was good to get away from all of this… It could do you some good, too,” you offered.

“D.C. is my life, you know that. But maybe… Maybe part of what you’re saying is right. I’ve been so caught up in work, lately, you know… for the past several years. It probably would do me some good to get away just for a little while,” he briefly let go of you, rubbing the rest of the sadness out of his eyes and shaking his head at how emotional he had gotten.

“You should know by now that I’m always right,” you smugly look up at him, hoping to lighten the mood a bit and get at least a small smile out of him. He couldn’t help but melt at how adorable you were. You always had a way of completely stopping his heart with just one look. Lost in his thoughts of how enticing your lips looked and how badly he wanted to kiss them, he crashed back down to earth when the realization hit him that the man who would take you home tonight would have the luxury of tasting them himself.

“Are you always this much trouble with Michael, too? Or does he get off on your sass, hm?”

“Okay, Mr. Jealous!” you laughed at him, playfully hitting his shoulder.

He smiled dazzlingly and rubbed his stubble with his hand, “How did you manage to find one like him?” He desperately wanted to know more about the two of you, but did his best to conceal the nature of his inquisitiveness.

“He definitely is one of a kind, isn’t he?” you rolled your eyes, not being able to stop the smile that formed on your face at the thought of your blonde-haired lover.

“Yeah, quite the handsome fella…” He sarcastically mocked you.

You playfully hit his arm again, laughing as you reprimanded him. “Don’t be mean, Dunc.” He pretended to be shocked and mumbled under his breath about him “not being mean or jealous”.

“Plus, what about your date tonight, huh? It seems you certainly have moved on,” you raised your eyebrow at him; his smile instantly dropping at your last words.

“She’s just somebody Annette set me up with for tonight,” he sighed, that tender sadness coming back into his voice as he played with your hand gently. It took a moment for the next words to come out of this mouth.

“Have you moved on?”

You looked up at him, feeling such heartbreak and sorrow for this man you had always loved. Just as you opened your mouth to answer, a dark figure emerged from the shadows only to reveal Michael himself gracefully walking toward the both of you. Such a powerful and alluring man, he demanded the attention of anyone present. And he demanded your attention now, as he loomed over you, staring you down with a look of impatience. You weren’t new to or exactly affected by his intimidation tactics (at least, not anymore), but you did find yourself shivering a bit, the hairs on your neck standing up, as his eyes gazed at you with blue flames flickering in his irises. You knew this look he saved, just for you, meant you were in trouble.

“It appears Mr. Shepherd has a way of stealing us both away, Y/N, doesn’t he?” The corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. He turned his focus to the brunette standing opposite you, taking his time to look him up and down with an expression on his face you couldn’t quite read. You had gotten pretty good at reading Michael over time, but there were still times when you were completely in the dark as to what this man held in his head. Michael held his arm out for you to grab onto and informed you that the car was there for the both of you. You glanced at Duncan with a sorry expression and quickly said your goodbyes.

The two of you walked away, leaving Duncan in the middle of an empty hallway. You could’ve sworn you saw tears prick his eyes, but maybe it was just a trick of the light.

As you both got settled into the car, and your thoughts went back and forth between Duncan and Michael, the unnervingly quiet man beside you turned to you slowly with a smile that seemed off as he calmly stroked your thigh.

“Well, haven’t you been a very bad girl tonight…”

Taglist: @mega-combusken, @lathraios, @livocc, @ladynuwanda, @sojournmichael, @katiekitty261, @no-need-for-rules, @rosegoldrichie, @cam-elija, @1-800-bitchcraft, @babypinkstyles94, @lunarfawns, @michaelsapostle, @langdonsdemon, @kleineshaschen, @whydonthumansfly, @junkful, @solitalangdon, @ultralightbeamsnstuff, @leaveittothewolves, @olobersy, @pumpkinspiceharry1, @fckinsupreme, @femaleantichrist, @peachesandfern, @bloodsuckinvampire, @freak-war-hour

#duncan shepherd #michael langdon #duncan shepherd x reader #michael langdon x reader #cody fern #duncan shepherd imagine #michael langdon imagine #duncan shepherd fic #michael langdon fic #house of cards #ahs apocalypse #my writing

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kaetastic · 5 years

Text

You Had Your Chance

pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

summary: Steven Rogers finally meets you once again, after the past beween you two.

word count: 1k+

warning: A N G S T

note: i love angst, and when i woke up- i wrote this directly lmao. i was listening to scotty sire take me away. i needed angst, have a nice day!

He heaved a sigh, eyes shut tight as the stinging alcohol slammed onto the back of his throat. The blaring music bouncing through his ears, he held back a frustrated groan and an irritated roll of his eyes. Beats of the song linked with the strong punch of the present colognes. Bodies were everywhere, walking from one side of the room to the other. It was getting on his nerves.

“What’cha doing?” Sam inquired, pushing his legs onto the high chair. It squeaked at the sudden weight. He placed his glass down, gently; the blue liquid in his cup splashed out slightly. He hissed in at the spill. “Thank you.” He sent a thankful smile to the bartender who noticed the mishap, wiping it away- there was no trace of the accident. Only beads of water from the wet towel.

Steve who still didn’t answer his question, rubbed his temples in circles, he felt nauseous in the confinement of the room. It was spacious indeed, but the number of guests Tony invited made him feel overcrowded and overwhelmed with emotions. He didn’t know why he was drinking either. Why was he even here? Thoughts ran around his head to answer his own question. But it all zapped to faded specks of dust.

“Woah…” The Falcon stared in awe, mouth gaped open, jaw resting on the floor as he blinked rapidly, not believing his sight. But it was true. The glittery and sparkly dress was prominent amongst the audience. Steve pulled away from the table, glancing at his friend before scanning the crowd in hopes of finding what left him astounded. It didn’t take long for him to find the breathtaking reason.

The hard beats of the song slowed down, volume muffled as his eyes land on the front door. The dress hugged her curves, thin straps holding the pieces as a slit had cut from her thigh and below. His lips parted as he admired her choice of outfit, mouth suddenly went dry. Those who stood in her way paced backwards to make way for her, as they too stared at her with amazement, gobsmacked at the beauty that stood in front of them. As if time was slowed down, her head whipped from side to side, eyes running with no halting. She was looking for someone.

A grin smeared on her lips once it landed on his, her pearly white teeth gleaming and twinkling. She paced forward but halted once an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her body into his warmth. She glanced at him, eyebrows furrowed which relaxed once she realized it was him. Albeit everyone had their eyes on them, their composure didn’t falter under pressuring gazes. And if her smile wasn’t bright enough, it shone more. Playing the same reaction, he pressed a soft kiss on her lips that was painted with a fierce red.

Steve’s hopes clashed like fragile glass. His clench on his cup tightened slightly, not enough for it to shatter. They pulled away, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as they walked closer to him; his eyes accidentally making contact with Y/N. Steve’s breath hitched, rapidly changing his view to the bar. The strong breeze swung by him, the scent of her favourite perfume intoxicated him. She would always wear that one.

And very much to his dismay, they passed him. Glancing to face her, the music played a rather soft melody this time, he watched as she hugged Tony and Pepper. She radiated happiness, on top of the world as she laughs; her head was thrown back with a large smile, her curled hair bouncing on her shoulders.

He just wanted to go back in time to be with her. To take the chance he never did.

A deep sigh left his lips, he rubbed his thumb onto the wine glass- head facing down the rail as his eyes shut tight. The music that resounded were confined in the party hall, the only barrier between the busy city and the party was the door that perfectly sealed the noise. Only muffled melodies slipped pass the busy night.

The door squeaked. The music was very much to his disliking, blaring after. He cleared his throat, standing still to seem more presentable; not knowing who it was. Sipping on the wine, the faint clash of the door fitting back to close. He froze. The familiar scent entering his lungs.

He flinched back to leave, but he was cornered. He adjusted his cuffs, trying to distract himself. Not wanting to glance at the figure.

The heavy silence weighed on their shoulder, it took him everything to hold back the urge of turning to face her, “Remember when we first met?” As if a spark of electricity zapped through his muscles, he tensed. Slightly shocked at the abrupt commencement of a hopefully, conversation, his eyes didn’t waver as his orbs started to look around the busy night streets. He tried to find something interesting, to pull himself away. But a pit of fire roared in his stomach, he had to take this chance.

“How could I forget?” He mumbled back, not an answer but a question to her own. She chuckled, wearing a gleaming smile as she gripped onto the cold rails. A slight hiss left her lips before she got comfortable, warmth radiating the frozen-like metal.

“I remembered when we used to get coffees together.” She reoccurred the memory, a content smile at the quick play of the past. He nodded.

“I would be the one to wake you up for training,” He chuckled, shaking his head as he joined the memory train. “You were always cranky if someone woke you up, feral.” She gasped from his sudden insult, a hand on her heart with widened eyes as she was left dumbfounded for a few seconds. More shocked at his boldness rather than his insult.

“My beauty sleep is my top priority.” She reasoned, scoffing.

“Really? You always slept at 4 a.m. in the morning.” He glimpsed to face her, it was an action with no hesitation and zero to no thoughts. He finally realized his mistake, looking at her. His mouth wide open as he finally gets to admire her up close, her curled hair fitted her outfit perfectly. The glitter that smeared across her cheekbones shimmered, her lipstick still strong. He watched as she chuckled at his comment.

The silence creeping back in, shivers running down their spine as they stood there, honking of the streams of vehicles in traffic echoing through the balcony.

A twinkle of sparkle hits his eyes, he side-glanced at the shiny object. His heart clenched. He quickly averted his gaze, breathing heavier as thoughts devoured him. Clearing his throat once again, he decided to break the silence, “That’s a beautiful ring.” He commented, not daring to look at her reaction.

Y/N smiled, turning her left hand to admire the diamond ring that wrapped around her elegantly. Smaller sized diamonds embodied the sides of the rings- adding more twinkle like the stars that smeared across the night sky. The memory of her wedding flashing before her eyes, she breathed out the air she didn’t know she was holding, taking her seconds to think of a reply, “How about you?”

“Hm?” He turned to face her.

“Where’s the lucky lady?” She chuckled, hoping to crack the tension that suffocated her throat; she wonders if he felt it.

Steve pushed the metal rail, holding onto it as he looks up at the dark canvas of a sky, “Haven’t found one yet,” He answered, a bit too nonchalantly than he intended. Finally, the realization of awkwardness and tension slapped him. “I mean, who would want to be with a 100-year-old man?”

She smiled at his attempt of relieving the tension. His mouth gaped open to finally ask her the question that had been stabbing him for months. Which faltered to a thin line when the drumming speakers flowed out to slip through the eerie silence between the two. Her head whipped back to take a glimpse at the person who punched a hole through the barrier, allowing the familiar rhythm to recklessly join the night.

“I’m not ruining anything right?” The brunette asked, glancing at his wife and Captain America. She shook her head. He wore a friendly smile as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pecking her forehead at her body warmth; happiness erupting in his stomach as she hugged his chest tight.

“Steve, my husband- Duncan. Duncan, Steve.” They shook their hands, Steve dragged the moment a bit too long as his grip harden. Duncan’s mouth gaped open, standing awkwardly; glancing at his wife who stared at their hands.

“Sorry, just thinking.” The super soldier lied, cringing at how bad it came out. Pulling his hand back, he smiled at the couple.

“Sorry Cap, have to steal this gorgeous woman for the night.” She slapped his shoulders, cheeks painted red at his compliment. “What? It’s true. Your favourite song is playing, come on.” Y/N grinned at her husband’s intentions, she nodded as he interlaced his fingers with her.

Steve’s tongue twisted, the door opened and Duncan was pulling her to enter the building but before she disappeared, he yelled, “Let’s get some coffee later!” She nodded before her figure was engulfed, her body joining the rest as she happily danced with her husband.

The door was shut once again, he sighed as he watched her having the best time of her life. The blaming that he had found himself acquainting floated and hovered around his conscience; she flowed to the rhythm perfectly as Duncan twirled her around. It could’ve been him. It could’ve been him who made her happy. It could’ve been him to kneel on one knee. It could’ve. But his fear of losing someone else stopped him.

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emmyrosee · 5 years

Text

Appreciation (Fluff)

I finished this so much faster than intended. I guess soft domestic Roman is the key to make me type faster. That, or this just got immensely self-indulgent (like most things I write) and by the time I realized, I was just- I just liked it too much, okay? Okay, moving along.

Side note.... Axel x Reader x Duncan, two super secret pieces that I reeeeeeally like (y’all may not, ‘m sorry) and another Duncan piece should be coming out soon.

This was requested by the insanely creative and super sweet

@anxiousamandapanda. Thank ya, baby!!💕💕 I tried to stay as close to the prompt as I could and I hope you like it!

Warnings: super super soft Roman (don’t tell me my little brat wasn’t actually super lovable, you won’t sway me!), language, reeeeal self indulgent, confusing plot and probably some grammar problems.

Roman Godfrey x Fem!Reader: After a hard day at work, Roman comes home and can’t help but pay extra attention and appreciate the love she sends his way.

Parking his car in his large driveway, Roman wasn’t sure if he could handle anything else.

The day that he just had was enough to consider various forms of homicide.

Secrets being kept from him from his own employees, an amazingly incompetent intern, and just the fact that he woke up annoyed for one reason or another, he had more than his fix.

He tensely left the car, shoulders raised and hard. His eyes were mean, and the scowl on his face actually began to hurt. He entered the large house, a small wave of relief finally washing over him.

“Honey, I’m fucking home,” he growled, kicking his door shut. The silence in his house would’ve been nice if he knew he lived alone. But right now, all Roman wanted was to flop down on his bed with the woman he loved, and just forget that the world existed.

“Up here, hon!” Her lovely voice called. Roman sighed of relief as her call suddenly lifted weights off of his shoulders. He loved that she had that effect on him, the ability to just be there for him and immediately he felt better.

Roman slowly trudged up the stairs to his daughter Nadia’s room, hugging the wall in exhaustion. He bumped the door open with his hip and couldn’t help but smile when he saw the blocks spelling out the names of both of the girls he loved.

“How was work, Romeo?” She asked, reaching her hand up to lace it through his. He chuckled at his nickname as he stroke his thumb over her knuckles.

“Shitty. But it’s over now.”

“That’s all that really matters,” she said sweetly, standing up to meet his eyes. Roman’s eyes gently shut as her arms wrapped around his neck, nudging his heavy jacket off of his shoulders.

“Bugga’s all ready for bed, but she did want to say goodnight to her daddy first,” she cooed, patting his chest. Nadia looked up at the pair with her bright blue eyes, hair still slightly damp from her bath. Roman smiled down at his daughter, “is that so? She’s fed and everything?” He bent down to pick Nadia up as she squealed at Roman.

She scoffed at him, “Nope. I figured she better start losing that baby weight, so I didn’t feed her. I didn’t think you would mind.”

Roman turned to her, fighting the smile from growing on his cheeks, “I’m just making sure that my little girl is well taken care of.”

“Nope; I’m secretly sneaking poison into her formula.”

“I’m just amazed that you got her to drink the fucking formula,” Roman admits, earning a smack to his shoulder.

“Language in front of the tiny human,” she said, brows furrowed in mock disappointment. Then she smiled again, rubbing his back as she started to walk out of the room, “any requests for dinner?”

“Honestly, bourbon and our bed,” Roman admits, smiling hopefully.

She clicked her tongue, “bourbon, sure. But you need to eat.”

“Can’t we just order something out?”

She sighed, “I’ve got some pasta and I’m pretty sure there’s some sauce left over from the last time I made it, interested?”

Roman’s eyes closed at the idea, and he nodded dopily, “you’re the smartest woman I know.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said, winking at him before leaving.

Roman turned his attention back to Nadia, who eyes fixated back to him as her mother-figure left.

“Thank Christ she knows how to tame you,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss to Nadia’s head. She mumbled up at him happily, her growing teeth showing up at him. He returned the smile before gently placing her into her crib, stroking her cheek gently.

It’s amazing just how quickly Nadia goes to sleep after spending the day with her. No fussing, no crying, no making Roman feel guilty. She just lets him lay her down, pop her pacifier in her lips and slowly drift off to sleep.

“I have no clue how you do it,” Roman admitted, calling down to her as he closed the door.

“I click with children!” She called back. He chuckled to himself as he walked back down the stairs, sitting at the island in the kitchen.

She had been right, as usual. The warm meal had made him feel better, the pleasant buzz of bourbon made him feel just a tad bit warm, and he couldn’t help but watch in adoration as she swung her hips around to dance to the music she played quietly on her phone while she washed the dishes.

It was almost insane, how much she was willing to do for him.

Nadia could be a handful within herself, but Roman came home every night to clean sheets, a clean house, a tired Nadia and her absolute love and warmth that he did not deserve.

“I think you should take a weekend off,” Roman suggested suddenly, sliding on his pajamas. She had already finished the sheets, and Roman couldn’t have been more excited to go to bed.

She looked over at him, smiling. “What?”

“You know, just take a week or so, and just... go out. Take a vacation. Invite some friends, go wherever, it’ll be my treat. What do you think?”

“Would you be joining me on said weekend?” She asked, pulling down the sheets and sliding into bed.

Roman shook his head, “no; just you, some friends-“

“No deal.”

Roman chuckled, rubbing his face.

“Why not?” He slid in bed next to her, and wrapped his arm around her when she nuzzled closer to him.

“Because I have no reason to need a vacation without you and Nadia?”

“It’s a vacation from me and Nadia,” Roman pointed out.

She clicked her tongue before smacking his chest lightly.

“Hush,” she said sternly. “I don’t want or need a ‘vacation’, Roman.”

“Alright, I need to know your secret,” Roman said suddenly, gripping her shoulder.

“What secret?”

“All you do, is give and give and give, and the minute someone offers you a break, you won’t take it. Why?” Roman said, almost yelling.

But she stood her ground, not flinching away from him, “why does this make you so upset?”

“Because I don’t want you to get sick of us!” He said sternly.

The room went quiet, Roman’s green eyes screwed shut at his outburst. They reopened as a warm, soft hand cupped his cheek, and she stroked the prominent planes of his face.

“This isn’t a job for me, Rome. This is my life. This is what I want. And the only way you’re getting me on a plane for some bullshit vacation is if you and our little bugga are with me.”

Those words make Roman’s heart melt warmly in his chest like chocolate.

Our bugga.

Nadia.

Theirs.

Unable to hold back from that incessant knot, that need in his chest from the minute he heard her voice, Roman swings his leg over her hip, straddling her to the bed. He laced their fingers together as she merely giggled up at him, rolling her hips into his.

“Well, you could let me give you some form of appreciation?” Roman whispered lustfully, scaling down her body gently. Their hands were still laced together, and she squeezed them in excitement.

“Roman Godfrey,” she whispered back, one hand leaving his to lace in his hair, tugging gently. His eyes fluttered shut again at her sharp grip, but he smirked as he lowered his face to her hips, teasingly inhaling her scent.

“This is all the appreciation I need.”

Tagging💕

@peachesandfern and @hecohansen31, hope you can find some enjoyment in this! 😘

#I have mixed feelings about how this turned out #like I like it #but is sooo indulgent because ya know what #Its about time i get some appreciation #KIDDING god #anyways #Roman Godfrey #roman godfrey fluff #roman godfrey x fem!reader #roman godfrey x fem!reader fluff #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey hemlock gove #hemlock grove #hemlock grove fluff #hemlock grove imagines

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bewaretheundead91 · 5 years

Text

A Very Eventful Christmas: Train Station

Summary: You are on your way back to Washington D.C. to spend a week with your family for Christmas. On your way you run into a man from your past.

Duncan Shepherd X Reader (Y/N)

A/N: Christmas is around the corner? I’m sorry due to my job I tend to hear Christmas music earlier than most. So I’ve been inspired to start a Christmas series. It’s a slow burn. Subject to be edited and changed.

Warnings: None

You pull into the busy parking lot of the Chicago train station, scanning for a reasonable parking spot. Angrily, you slam your hand on the stirring wheel, there were no parking spots near the entrance of the train station. To your surprise a car slowly pulls out of a parking spot almost hitting your Subaru Outback, but leaving a spot for you to vacant.

“Thank god.” You say grabbing your carry on bag, a vintage, passed down designer leather bag, large enough for your laptop and various notebooks and documents.

You quickly slip your hands into a pare of fleece lined gloves and wrap a thick mustard scarf around your neck. Then you take your keys out of ignition and brace yourself for the extreme cold of the Illinois winter weather. You step out and gaze at the darkening overcast sky, the scene of salt and rain was whiffing around the atmosphere. Snow was surely to fall by midnight.

The phone in your coat pocket begins to the vibrate violently and you answer it slamming your door shut and walking off towards the train station. Your heeled boots clunking against the asphalt as you make your way, then something cold lands on the tip of your nose.

“Hello, this Ms. Y/L/N,” You say shooting a glance to the sky. Your eyes open wide to a scene of fluffy chunks of snow sprinkling above. “Just great!”

You quicken your steps, running past a variety of cars with your carry on bag slapping you in the leg. At the entrance of the station your run transitions into a walking pace. You walk up a few steps, feeling the snow against your chilled cheeks.

“Y/N?” A voice shouts. “Y/N are you there? It’s Erica!”

“Hey girl,” You say now running up the steps and entering the station. “I just got to the train station and it’s snowing. The parking lot was packed and I had to run before my hair started to soak up it all up.”

“It’s okay,” Erica says. “I’m calling to let you know that your bags have arrived at my apartment and I’m excited to see you and I hope you have a safe trip here.”

“Has my mother called yet to complain that I’d rather stay with my cousin than her?” You chuckle.

“Actually no.” Erica informs.

“Well that’s interesting. It only means that she will probably call and complain to me personally, ” You say. “Well I need to let you go since I need to check in.”

“Be safe and I’m super excited. We’re going to watch all the cheesy Christmas movies.”

“I’m sure your husband will just love that. I’ll see you soon!”

After checking in, the urge of drinking something scolding hot and sweet overcame you. You find the food court and walk to the coffee shop. The line was long, which was warranted due to the sudden winter precipitation. Your phone begins to vibrate again and quickly you answer it.

“Y/N?” An older woman called out.

“Hello, mom,” You roll your eyes and take a step forward in line. Though the line was long it was moving along at a decent pace.

“Now I’m not angry that you don’t want to stay with us in the penthouse, but I do want you to let me know once you’ve gotten to town.”

“Yes Mother.” You emphasize mother.

“How long is the expected travel time by train?” Your mother asks. “It is more sensible to take a plane. Shorter travel time.”

“It said maybe 10 to 17 hours,” You tried to remember. “You know why I’m taking the train.”

“I know, but I just want to spend as much time with you as possible. Ever since you moved out to that dreadful city, the phone calls have become less and less. It’s as if you are ignoring me or you want me out of your life. Remember who gave you this life and the money…”

“I’m not ignoring you mother, I’m just trying to stay out of your business. You know to stay out of affairs if you get what I’m saying,” You say taking another step forward in line. “And you know why I left so it just makes sense to not really call. You’re a busy person and I’m a busy person. Making my own money.”

You take a glance ahead of the line again and your eyes skim across the coat layered crowd until your eyes landed on the familiar height and body type of a man. Looking up the length of the stranger, the familiar shade of auburn brunette hair makes your heart stop. You take a long pause on the phone and dip closer behind the person in front of you cursing yourself for not wearing a hat.

If it was the person you thought it was, you didn’t expect them to be in the same space as you, let alone a train station. But you knew he was in town, it was all over the news and in the papers.

“Y/N!” Your mother shouts. “Y/N!”

“God, mother!” You shout jumping in place. Your back collides into the person behind you. You cautiously turn your head to see a woman behind you frowning and taking a step backward. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. My mother, she’s you know…”

“Y/N!” Your mother shouts in the phone and you jump again this time making the people in front of you turn around. You watch as the familiar looking man starts to turn his head to the left. Your mouth drops open wide at catching the familiar profile of Duncan Shepherd.

“Shit.” You whisper, ducking down low and stepping out of line. The coffee is not worth the trouble to you anymore.

“What is going on? Are you okay?” You mother shouts in the phone.

“Mom I’m fine.” You say walking away from the line quickly and towards the direction of the your train terminal. “Don’t worry about it. Mom I have to go.”

“I’m not done talking to you.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to talk to me once I get home.” You hang up.

You sit down on a bench and pull off your gloves and shove them into the pocket of your gray pea coat. You also take your scarf off and place it across your thighs. Instantly you type out out a text to Erica. He’s here, you send, at the train station of all places. Instantly the bubbled… appears in the message. Who’s there, Erica asks. Shepherd, was all you send back.

You slide down in your seat a bit to try to hide as much of yourself as possible.

“Hazelnut latte was it?” A low voice asks and a paper coffee cup appears to the right of you. “Almond, hazelnut latte.”

Your moth drops open wide again and you close your eyes as you turn your head towards the coffee. The smell of hazelnut was strong in your nose and you want the coffee. A chill slithers down your spine as your eyes meet Duncan Shepherd’s bright blue ones. His hair loosely falls in front of his forehead and your heart starts to pound. Then your phone vibrates in your lap and you jump almost colliding into the coffee.

“It was hazelnut right?” The voice asks

“Duncan…” You say awkwardly, wanting to look down at your phone and to close it so he wouldn’t see it.

“Do you want the coffee?” He asks lifting the brow. “I saw you walking away from the line. Let me guess, your mother was it? I could hear her from where I was standing in line.”

“Yes,” You say extending a hand to grab the cup. You fingers light graze his. You watch as he looks down at the coffee. “To both.”

“It’s amusing seeing you here,” He crinkles his nose and then lifts a brow. “What is such an elite socialite doing taking a train?”

“I’m not even going to respond to that,” You say shaking your head. “Thanks for the coffee, but I’m walking away now. I’ve got a train to catch soon.”

“I’m trying to be cordial.” He confesses, shrugging and his hair moves in the process.

“Cordial, by mocking me. I’m writer now and you know that. I omitted the word socialite from my resume.”

“That’s cute, should I know that you are a writer?” He asks. “I’m a very busy and important man.”

“Bye Shepherd.” You stand up and he towers over you. You can smell his deep, clean scented cologne.

“It’s been years,” He states with a smile. “How about we catch up and you tell me what it’s like to write. What it’s like to try and live under the radar.”

“Just like a Shepherd, everything that falls out of their mouth sounds condescending.”

“So quick tongued to respond defensively,” He says chuckling. “Enjoy the coffee, it’s sad we wont get to catch up. It’s not everyday that I run into an old friend. When you left D.C., it was such a scandal. Some said it was selfish, I didn’t believe you were being selfish. Some just get the opportunity to escape.”

“What does that mean?” You ask looking up at him. Was it an insult?

“I guess you’ll never find out,” He says with a warm, closed mouth, smile. “Have a Merry Christmas by the way. Tell your mother and Erica I said hello.”

You watch as he walks away. Once he was gone you look down at your phone to see several text messages from your cousin. As in Duncan Shepherd, she says, As in I’m going to dig up as much dirt on the president as possible Shepherd, as in enemy of the family Shepherd? As in the man who put you on blast when you left D.C. and decided to not fall in your mother’s footsteps Shepherd?

Then you remembered. You were too busy to dwell on such an eventful past. And you grew up.

#Duncan Shepherd #duncan sheperd x reader

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ts-akhmim · 4 years

Text

Rites of Passage

TJ: Bodhi – I don’t know that much about you, but I’ve heard you are a crackhead, so I guess I’m ok having saved the experience of playing TS with you for a different time. It would have made the original tribes a lot more interesting to say the least, lol.

AMIR: I am so angerry we didn’t get to play together!!! I wanted to work with you back in Survivor Cutthroat and when I saw you were cast on this season i was excited to play with u again and was robbed of the opportunity AGAIN! u were also the only person on this cast that i have played with previously so the familiarity was lovely, so anyways u were robbed even tho you got like a 35 in the first challenge luv u always

AUTUMN: I wish we had gotten to play together longer! I’m glad we’re in another game together because I think you’re a cool guy and I appreciate your humor, honesty, and just candor about everything. I know in the moment the vote felt very hurtful but it was purely about the challenge and wanting Thoth to be as strong as possible moving forward (little did we know what was coming lmaaaaoo)

TJ: Trace – Another person I never got to meet in this game, but everything I heard from the Brains that I did get to talk to was that you were a super nice guy and really respectable. Sorry this season didn’t work out for you; I think we all know we can just blame Thoth for being a cursed tribe!

AMIR: We never got to meet :( may b in the afterlife

AUTUMN: I hope you’re well! Honestly your death felt like true Survivor because the target was someone else but once Devon and I found out that you had made an alliance with everyone except us, I flipped it and said you had to be the one to go. I think the game would’ve been completely different had you stayed because there’s no way you would’ve let me get this far and once I realized you wanted me on the bottom, I was like ok Trace is the real deal he knows I’m trouble hahaha. You’re a great guy though and I hope you understand it was just game

TJ: Isaac – The third person I have never met in this game (I feel bad, Autumn is going to be the only one of us three who can actually say anything about these first three). I know you brought an interesting dynamic to the tribe based on the tribals I had watched, so kudos to you for being able to make an impact on the tribe. Another person I think we can just blame Thoth and not really blame anything gameplay wise, lol.

AMIR: Bane of my existence but also taken way too soon from us smh, you didn't deserve to be on cursed ass thoth, rip in peace’s sweet bottom

AUTUMN: You’re so sweet and wholesome and I really miss our conversations. I was being dumb and naive when you told me Scott and Duncan were a duo because I was an alliance with them and Devon. So I very much wanted to believe we were rock solid but YOU KNEW!! You called it before anyone else and for that, I stan. That alliance is literally the reason you want home and I just didn’t want to turn on them at the time. But in hindsight you were right about a lot of things and I appreciate your kindness and maturity about it all even though you were lowkey robbed

TJ: Austin – I never thought that we would reconnect after a few years away from being on the same site, so it was a great surprise to realize that you and I had actually played a couple games together in the past. I wish we had more than 24 hours together to maybe see what a future in this game could have been like. You are just as genuine of a guy as I remember you being, so that was really nice for me to see.

AMIR: Hello king of dairy queen, we honestly never talked too too much but you always were really nice to me and everyone else on hathor, and even after you were voted out, you were kind and left so gracefully

AUTUMN: You were so fun to talk to and if it weren’t for Devon’s mist I would’ve saved you lmao. I almost wish that twist hadn’t happened because had we met at a normal swap, I think our good vibes could’ve turned into a great alliance and we got along super well. It was nice getting to know you in the time we had though and I hope we get a chance to really play together one day

TJ: Lovelis – I can’t apologize enough for having to vote you off both as early as I did and how I did so. I’ve played now two seasons of the Challenge with you, but I found that I built a better bond with you this season than those two seasons combined, and then it just snowballed into this giant series of unfortunate events the tribal we had to go to and there was nothing that I could do. I’m genuinely so sorry for not being able to tell you what was going on and hope there’s a small chance you may understand sometime down the line.

AMIR: I never got to meet you unfortunately but I always thought your name was pronounced Love-El-Leez and then someone said “Loveless” and i was shookums

AUTUMN: SIR WHERE DID YOU GO??? I love that you don’t give a single fuck though haha because mood and I love dramatic exits- do you boo

TJ: AJ – Other than a brief convo during the Osiris vote, you and I never really got to meet. From what I did see, you seem like a really nice person and one that I think got voted out way too early. Hopefully I can verify that myself in another game if there is one in our future, but I wish we had been able to meet and see what could have been!

AMIR: You are so funny and and one of my fav people from Hathor 1.0 when it was such a simple time, also your winter bells score was inhumane and you had a great presence to be around, i just had a hard time ever trusting u and ya hehe

AUTUMN: ROBBED KING!! We didn’t really get to meet but thank you for sticking up for Adam on Hathor and for being honest with him. Although it led to a crazy divide amongst the beauties that lasted the whole game lmao (cmon impact!), I think that takes character to step out on a limb for someone especially when it risks your game. Merge would’ve been so much more iconic with you since I’m rooting for everyone brown haha. I hope we get to talk more after the game!

TJ: Connor – You seem like such a great guy and I wish I had spent more time trying to know you on Hathor. One of the things that always scares me in these games is when I can’t get a read on someone. I never was able to get a solid read on who you were and what you were capable of, and for that, that made you the person I was most threatened by in that circumstance.

AMIR:

AUTUMN: SIS I MISS YOU!! That tribe was BLAND after you left lmaaaoo I couldn’t wait for merge. Even though we didn’t talk a ton, I feel like we really vibed towards the end and just talking about Survivor seasons all evening. I screenshot your rankings and I reference them all the time/ they’ve been a fun conversation starter at merge. But anyway you’re hilarious and messy and iconic and I’m glad we got to meet. Also, you’ll be glad to know I finished Cagayan, I am neither Tony trash nor a Spencer fan, and I’m watching Pearl Islands now

TJ: Dan – Seeing you on the cast and on my starting tribe was almost like a little sigh of relief. Knowing someone and trusting that they aren’t going to just randomly screw you over is the greatest feeling in that initial stage of this game, and it sucks that it wasn’t able to go too much further than that since we got through an easy tribal at Brawn and then we got swapped onto opposite tribes. You and Drew brought me into this crazy world that is TS, and I hope I can complete that initial season now with a win here.

AMIR: Oh my gosh has it been a long time, I really haven’t seen you around or spoken to you in about 3 years, so seeing you in this game brought back a lot of nostalgia and memories from being in this community during like 2016 looooool, but it honestly was really nice to reconnect with you and see where we’ve gone in life since leaving here, wishing you the best (‘:

AUTUMN: Girl what happened??? I mean ok yes a part of me was relieved that you wouldn’t be able to kill me haha but you were robbed and we really could’ve fucked shit up. Had a different Apis member been over then instead of you, whew we would’ve done damage together on Hathor. It’s all good though- I hope everything is well with you and that you’re taking that well deserved break. All these back to back orgs we’ve been doing is getting OLD haha

TJ: Scott – When I saw the cast reveal, I was so excited to meet you. I really thought I would be a Brain and that we would be on the same tribe. We would have worked so well together, and I hope in some alternate universe you come back to ORGs and we find each other in another game to play.

AMIR: Scott !! Oh wow I have thots when it comes to your vote out, I did know u were getting voted out and I’m sorry, but honestly, you were just too good!! Our whole tribe was loyal to you dead ass, and I felt like if you got to merge, you would run the game using the brains and the beauties. U were just too damn likable during the game and I hope U understand why I did it

AUTUMN: Wheeeww Scott. I’m still gagged by that tribal that was something else. It was hard to see you go out like that because you truly deserve the best and have such a kind, amazing spirit. To the point where I would’ve had a hard time ever voting you or even getting anyone else to do the same so. Yes you were robbed but please don’t internalize it cause you were playing an amazing game (even had the boys confronting me about all the tea you shared haha/ gave me some messes to clean up) so please please please play again because you will WIN

TJ: Liam – Of all the names I wrote down this season, yours was by far the hardest. Emotionally, I had really grown close to you and I felt awful for the situation you were in. Everything I told you that whole round and before that was 100% genuine. I just wanted to see the fight you had that first Brawn vote when I wanted to save you over Lovelis. You are one of the kindest dudes I’ve ever met in these games, and I have so much respect for you, your priorities, and how you carry yourself.

AMIR: We never really got to talk much at all, but the few times we have talked you were always very sweet, I hope you are doing well. Autumn: Ok I do actually love you I swear haha. You’re a very sweet, compassionate guy and I could tell you were going through a lot which I 1000% get. But once merge hit, I knew shit would hit the fan really quickly so I basically got everyone to target you because most people didn’t know you too well and all the other Apis boys went with it because they were terrified of being the sacrificial brawn (since 5 of y’all made merge). I hope things are going better for you and I hope not having to worry about this wild ass game helped in some way. You thought you and I were tired back at pre-merge- girrrrrlll that was nothing hahaha

TJ: Jordan – If you told me Day 1 that you would be the person I would strategize the most with and become the closest ally too, I would have laughed in your face! I thought there was no freaking way that our personalities would click. And then I got to know you, we bonded over Survivor, and then a genuine friendship formed in this game. We made a F2 pact during the swapped Hathor tribe and I would have stuck to that to the end of this game. You are a great player and fun influence for these games, and I hope I made you proud throughout this merge.

AMIR: Oooof! Okay we did not leave on the best terms, you, similarly to dan, bring me a lot of nostalgia and you remind me of what it was like being in this community years ago. I never really got a chance to meet you in a personal way and get to know you at all until this game and I loved that we were able to reflect on the past and look back together, but unfortunately, by the time we did finally get on the same page, it was a little to late for me strategically. We got to connect over c*rcle and going to Ryerson and you’re honestly a real cool guy. I’m sorry for doing you dirty and I was happy to hear that you felt better the day after everything happened. I still stand by my decision and do not want to come across as a suck up, because I felt like you were after me prior to that point, and while I did feel a person connection after one call, my head still said that betraying all my allies for your plan was not smart for me. I truly do wish u the best and really hope u give me a chance outside the game, because that call we had did truly matter to me i swear I’m not evil looool Autumn: There’s so much I could say here but I’m gonna go about it like this: hi, I’m Autumn Hill and everything I do in Survivor is purely based on of strategy. I’ve always wanted to play with you just because of all the things I’ve heard about you but I knew we were too cracked to ever really work together. So I said yes to that alliance to appease Duncan and to keep an eye on you/ figure out how to take you out from the inside. There’s been a running joke all game that I just woke up and decided to kill you lmao and I swear that isn’t true. Yes I had been taking notes on you the whole game but no I was not waiting to specifically kill you at Final 11. I literally just wanted you and/or TJ to be captain because neither of y’all had done shit the whole game and it was already Final 11. Did I KNOW y’all would wile out and you would dig your own grave? No but I was really hoping you would hahaha. So you openly targeting me made it easy for me and then you snapping on everyone before tribal sealed it. I hope you don’t still hate me but I wouldn’t be surprised if you do even though I don’t think it’s justified because it’s literally just game and you had no intention of going to the end with me anyway. And I’m sure you’ve been praying I walk into jury but that has given me so much motivation to do the opposite you have no idea

TJ: Duncan – Regardless of how our relationship in the game ended up, you are still someone that I enjoyed getting to know and genuinely connected with you during the Hathor swap. You are such a smart and genuine soul, and that’s not something that’s always easy to find in these ORGs. If I screwed something up between us, I’m genuinely sorry about that and would love to talk it out afterwards.

AMIR: *wendy_williams_with_the_hat_over_her_head_gif* you did not deserve what happened to you in this game, i hope you believe me when i say I was super super happy to see that you’ve been cast in this game, and assumed from the moment of cast reveal that we would be working closely together. We connect well, we had a lot of important conversations and both being gay poc and our experiences and I always felt that we would be great allies. Unfortunately in the game, the round where you were getting voted out, I actually wanted you to stay but all my closest allies did not and I felt like being a leader in that round was not what's best for my game. I was upset to lose you way earlier than I wanted to and I hope you know me not warning was never personal, and i really hope you’ll want to be friends afterwards b/c I definitely do Autumn: My bb :( I STILL LOVE YOU BUT YOU KNOW HOW I AM!!! I can’t be tamed lmao and I just felt really suffocated by our alliance and paranoid about us having been together the whole game. Devon lowkey came between us on Thoth and I felt like you were jealous that I was close to someone else so when you got Devon to vote me back on Thoth I was really shook. Idk it felt like a warning shot, that you and Scott would basically dangle me off a cliff for no reason so I knew what had to happen. Then the alliance with Jordan and TJ happened and you didn’t fuck with Ali and Adam and I was like oooop I need to cook something up. Then I really started aligning with other people at merge (Jakey, Amir, Augusto, etc.) and I was like ok I need to cover my tracks. And Idk there were just a lot of weird moments where you voted TJ captain first but wanted me to convince everyone else to do Adam, you protecting Jordan during the immunity challenge and cutting Augusto’s rope only for you to force Devon to cut Jordan’s rope, lying to Adam about targeting him- so I just couldn’t do it anymore. I knew I was trying to go deep in this game and I felt like we couldn’t go any further together so I put the vote on you and it became unanimous since a lot of people were hurt by all the lies you told. So whew that’s the tea but you always said if I ever killed you, I better win and here we are lol and I hope I continue to make you proud

TJ: Devon – Ah, Slithers! I was so excited to reconnect with you because there was so much unfinished business between us after Guyana. There was so much we could have done that game, and I was glad to at least get a small taste of that in this game. I wish we had met before merge so that we didn’t have to throw something together right at merge. Your elimination was a blessing in disguise for me, because it was that round or the round before that I started becoming weary of the fact you were telling things to others you said you had only told me, so maybe it was good? You’re a strategic genius and I truly think you’d win if you came back one more time.

AMIR: Oh my god Devon you were always a confusing one for me, I felt quite close to you for a lot of this entire game and for a good portion of it, I actually felt quite loyal to you. When I met you at one world, we instantly clicked as people and I was excited for you to get back into the game and we were tight from that point on. At merge, things started getting complicated and at some point, I truly did start to get intimidated by your social game and how calculated you were about every single decision. I definitely was not the driving force behind your vote off but I also did not do much to try and stop it, overall tho, you protected me a bunch of times in this game over and over and I’m not ignorant to that and I’m thankful for that time we had as allies and friends mr 95% top Autumn: Girl what the fuck hahaha. I have half the nerve to leave the message with that but you’re lucky I still love you. To this day I have no clue why you turned on me and I was always loyal to you. So many people talked shit about you but I continued to give you the benefit of the doubt and forgive you. And I genuinely wanted to go to the end with you, Amir, and Augusto (or you, me and Ali) and had you actually believed me, you would be sitting here instead of me. But then you tried it and got the whole tribe to lie to me and if that wasn’t bad enough, you were coming at me for believing you were the rat (even though you, Amir, and Augusto were intentionally covering Kendall’s tracks) and saying you had my back no matter what. So between that and realizing that you were intentionally trying to put me on the bottom of the tribe is why I put a hit on you. I was truly never coming for you until you gave me a reason. So yes I was in my bag about it then but it’s all good now and I’m now back to thinking you’re a sweet, funny guy who deserves nice things. I miss the good ole days on Thoth ugh when we just call and laugh and make fun of everyone but alas. ALSO THANK YOU FOR CUTTING THE WRONG ROPES!! It’s one of my favorite moments of the game and it makes my day every time I think about it lmao I really need all the laughs I can get these days. Unless you actually have been rooting for me this whole time and you cut your allies’ ropes intentionally??? I can’t wait to finally hear that story hahaha

TJ: Ali – I need to start by apologizing for not replying the last hour-ish before your elimination. You are such a high caliber player – potentially the highest of caliber – that I didn’t want to give you any more information to possibly spook you and change what you and Jakey had talked about. You were someone I knew from the getgo that I couldn’t let you get far, and yet you cease to amaze me in your ability to be so freaking likeable and get far in these games. I will never forget doing the name scramble with you and I truly wish every challenge could have been that.

AMIR: WHHEWW weeeee i have so much respect for you, you have no idea. Like okay I never had met you but I knew that you were a godly player due to bbpokemon, but I never judge based on placements, but playing in this game with you confirmed that. Tbh tbh we were never gonna work out as loyal allies because you scared the absolute shite out of me as a player and had a damn toybox of powers, but i am glad that this game gave me the opportunity to get to know you as a person and ive come to really really like you. You were a force in the game but also super nice and respectful to everyone the entire way through and i can only admire that, and after like literally years of just hearing about you i get why everyone loves u

Autumn: I CAN’T DO THIS. I cannot cry over you twice in this game I really cannot. I cannot articulate the guilt I felt watching you die when you didn’t have to. I go back to that moment where you gave your negator power to Adam in case you died and it crossed my mind to tell you to play the idol on yourself because I just had a weird feeling. And like- we were right we knew we wouldn’t be able to do this whole game together because Auli is too powerful. But I just thought we had more time together. You really are like a brother to me and when you died, Adam and I called and he did all the talking for a good 15 minutes because I was on the other end just crying. But! This means you’ve joined the elite cause the only other allies I’ve MOURNED are Ned and Eddie. I just love how you are literally the nicest person but constantly have everyone shaking in their boots. Like the way all these people had a hard-on trying to get you out like 3 rounds in a row is just so powerful ugh. King of living rent free in everyone’s minds! Idk it would’ve been too good to be true for us both to go to the end but you are truly a legend and I’m grateful for literally any time I get with you and I REALLY wouldn’t be here without your idol sis so your spirit really did live on

TJ: Jakey – Day One I really thought that you and I would be at the end of this game together. And even throughout that entire merge, despite a few ups and downs we both had, I really saw us sitting here together. It sucks that we got blindsided together and I didn’t have that chance to save you, but I am so glad that we were able to connect the way we did. Our dynamic in having information from both sides of the house was perfect for both of us, even if it was your downfall. I was not kidding when I told you after Jordan left that I still had your back and that I wanted to get us to the end.

AMIR: I am so glad I got to meet you in this game because you literally became one of my fav people ever in the span of a month, and you know I love you. You’re someone I plan on being tight with for a very long time and have come to care about you so much, and we ended up calling like every single day for hours. You not being in the game anymore always did feel weird afterwards since you were essentially my other closest ally in terms of how you knew just about everything about my game and were kind of like a sounding board for me. I didn’t fully trust you sometimes, and I often think back to a “what if” and if we both could be here rn if my ass decided to take that risk and fully commit to this alliance and 100% trust you, but when this game is over, our nightly late night calls are probably going to be the main thing I remember and I am so appreciative that I got the chance to get to know you and become as close we did ❤️

Autumn: LMAO now see when you do clownery… I have so much respect for you and you are truly brilliant but girl you do too much haha and you know I’m OLD. I can’t do the back and forth and watching someone play both sides and have this je ne sais quoi energy about fucking everyone’s games up, allies included. Fam if you had waited to kill Ali ONE MORE ROUND, this game would’ve been yours. You had Amir and TJ whipped, you would’ve had me, Adam, and Kendall powerless, and Augusto would’ve kept chilling. But no I had to avenge Ali so me and Adam got to work and came up with a bunch of lies and truths to get you out and the kids ate it UP. But anyway, you’re still my son, you will bounce back, and I’m rooting for you in everything you do. You’re hilarious and perceptive and cracked and I told all the POC’s every round you were the only white boy I would actually vote for hahaha and I mean that

TJ: Adam – My biggest personal regret is not getting to talk to you more and at least get to know you more on a personal level. You always seemed so sweet and we talked about a decent bit, but I don’t think I ever put my best foot forward to build that connection since we were never on the same side. You are such a kind, sweet guy and I wish more guys were like you.

AMIR: Hello hunty, I think out of everyone in this cast, you are the first person I had ever met and it goes way way way back...like 2014 back. Our relationship is this game was…. ICONIC and messy to say the least. I was always a huge fan of your blog back then, and never thought we’d both end up on the beauty tribe. I honestly saw so much potential for us being super close allies, and at some point, I considered you my closest ally during day 1-2. The issue was the creation of an alliance without you in it, and then that alliance targetting you and you getting word of it which just kinda set us on the wrong foot from the very beginning because you didn’t trust me and I was anxious about that. It was literally all just shitty circumstances because bible i literally wanted to work with you so bad. We eventually set things straight again, but due to alliance lines, previous mistrust, and the people we were both working with, we ended up being on opposite sides and never were able to work out on a strategic level despite the fact that we always meshed well on a personal level, it was unfortunate but also kind of an iconic rivalry/alliance thing that was going on

Autumn: MY BABY!!! When you died I was just numb and I miss you so much. That happening right after I finally won immunity was just cruel and my system short circuited. We had a million alliance chats and just like that the house was empty and it’s just been quiet all the rounds since. Tbh I was triggered cause I was ALONE alone in Crossroads so when you died I was just sitting at Final 5 with the idol like awww shit here we go again haha. You are one of the funniest, kindest, most loyal, and most authentic players I’ve ever met and your social game is TOP SHELF sir. Watching you lie and finesse and manipulate people round after round actually cleared my skin. In my mind, I always referred to you as the Mad Hatter because you always had tea and you always had something brewing on the stove haha. I miss our conversations so much and I really wouldn’t be here without all the trust you put in me and for being like “giiiirrrl you need to get on the blog RIGHT NOW.” You know I can make hoes mad all by myself haha but it was at its best when you were by my side

TJ: Augusto – I want to mirror what you said about me in your goodbye message. You are so pure, you are so likeable, you are such a king when it comes to the social game. I didn’t think our games would gel that much coming into this game, but once we got over the little hump that was the first couple rounds of merge, I really clicked with you and enjoyed meeting you this game. I wish we had followed the plan and you’d still be here over Amir, but ‘tis the game.

AMIR: This is probably the hardest one to write because you have been my partner in crime and my closest ally since day 1 in this game, and I truly did want to go to the end with you and Kendall. You kept me sane for like the majority of the game and I 100% could not have made it here without you. I am not going to diminish the impact that you had on this game and how big of a factor you were in my survival. I have never lied or kissed ass when I said I believed you played one of the strongest games by far. As a person, I love you and you know I mean that and have enjoyed your friendship a lot over the past month, and really really hope we’ll be friends after this game. The game does not feel the same without u there and i miss your dumb gay memes that make me cackle, and im sorry for how things ended up, I truly felt like at that point, it was me going home or u, and i chose to pick me. I don’t want to dwell but I also don’t want to invalidate how badly I screwed you over and how you get to be mad for it. i cant wait 2 talk to u after the game

Autumn:Lmaaaaooo listen. That whole thing was one of the most cracked things I’ve ever done in my entire org career and Iiiiii don’t wanna get into it here but I will so that miss Amir can’t take credit for it hahaha. Basically…. what had happened was… I was very much going to idol Amir out but he randomly came into my pm’s after TJ won immunity and begged that we work together and that I spare him if I had the idol even though he had just killed Adam. And it took a lot of convincing but I thought about how well positioned you were to go to the end with anyone so I said: yes Amir but I’m killing Augusto which means you’re going to tell the beauties you have the idol since everyone has to vote me. Meanwhile TJ was talking to me and being very straight up that it was between me and Amir/ it was based on who had the idol. So I threw Amir under the bus and said everyone was giving the game away to him and that TJ was no better for always talking shit but never doing anything about it. And he kept trying to corner me into saying I had the idol and that “everyone was still concerned” so I got tired of going back and forth and was just like lemme go address everyone in the tribe cause I’m not doing this all day when I know I’ll be at Final 4 no matter what. So that’s when I gave a monologue in the tribe chat about how everyone should be honest with me and that there’s no point in lying when I’m essentially a sitting duck. Then you and Kendall admitted to voting me, which allowed me to a) play the idol correctly and b) split you and Amir. Tbh I just felt like you had the best spot in the game because the whole round it like never crossed your mind that you could die and I was like oop hold my beer. Meanwhile you had talked shit about Amir’s game to me more than once so I started twisting the knife on him and when you weren’t talking to him as much, Amir really got paranoid and was like they’re gonna kill me soon I just know it I’m all in. So that’s the tea. But! You know it was strictly game because I adore you and I legit called you more than anyone in this cast haha. I just got spooked about you getting any deeper in the game. You have a great heart and I hope we can still be friends after this because you’re an amazing person and I’ll always be here for you

TJ: Kendall – You haven’t even been gone for 24 hours and I already miss your lunatic history facts! I never expected to meet someone in this game who I truly understood and care about in this game, and that’s exactly what I found starting very early in that merge with you. You are so freaking quirky, but so am I so I get it completely. I wish everyone in this game got to see how amazing you were and how you were completely robbed from being able to make the finals with me. I truly think I met a friend for years to come with you, and I’m so grateful for that. (Also ps, apparently we had a flirtmance going according to the other two… I wasn’t aware of this, lol).

AMIR: This is interesting because I kinda already messaged you yesterday right before the vote with everything I have to say, in the end, you have the right to feel how you feel and your reactions are 100% valid. I apologize for lying to you and blindsiding you, It was not an easy decision and I own it, and even writing this right now is quite difficult because I want to talk about the hilarious and amazing times we had together and make it a cute rop, but I know the wounds are still fresh and I know you said you are not happy with me rn and I would not want to act oblivious to your current emotions. Maybe if I make it to jury or FTC, you will be able to say everything you want to say to me and we can move on from there and pick up where we left off,

Autumn: Sis I don’t even know where to begin with you haha. Because we were never allies or even friends lmao but we always had mutual respect for each other the whole game and just tried to stay out of each other’s way. I do genuinely believe you get a bad wrap for no reason and people talked a lot of shit about you for no real reason. And I love that both the women in the game were despised but for different reasons haha. You were playing a good game tbh and even though I really considered sitting beside you at the end, it frustrated me that you (like Augusto) felt like you were guaranteed to be at the end and you were essentially the prettiest girl at the dance and meanwhile I had to fight for my life every single round since Final 6. So I was like ok if sis really wants to go to the end, then she’ll pull up and meet me at firemaking haha. Amir went back and forth about the whole thing and legitimately told me he was voting me earlier that day but I got in his head and I said you know damn well they will clip you at Final 3 no hesitation so unless you want this whole game to have been for nothing, you need to just send me to firemaking and if Kendall wins she wins and if I win I win. So, it was strictly strategic for me because there was no way for you, me, and Amir to all make final 3 and you and TJ were very transparent about voting me lol. But anyway! Thank you for your humor and patience and constant forgiveness throughout this game and your incredible knack for manipulating men. I salute you and I’m glad we got to meet

Amir: Tj tj tj oh wow oh wow, I literally feel like our relationship is like the disappointed dad (you) and me being the rebellious child who keeps promising to straighten myself out and then keeps up my fuckery. Anyway, it was a pleasure playing this game with you, you were kind to everyone, had a huge underdog hero arc, and you were probably the person who was onto my antics the most. Somehow after every vote, you’re like “I hate u but I get it so I still like u” and it was just a very wholesome hilarious relationship that I’ve had this whole game. You had me shaking during that final “autumn take me” riff raff and you deserve to be sitting in this spot just as much as I do

Autumn: Oh boy- not to be dramatic but killing you, my favorite adversary, wasn’t nearly as satisfying as I thought it would be. Listening to you talk last night made me realize how much heart you had put into the game and I felt really compelled to give you a chance to vouch for yourself at FTC just out of respect. But I know how allies get and I didn’t see a whole pocket of jurors voting for me over you when they had probably been rooting for you the whole game. So once my laptop died last night haha and I was sitting with my notes, it came down to a) leveling the playing field amongst the jurors, b) trying to picture what jury would really value, and c) how persuasive you are. If you could do aaaaaall that off the record to save your game, I knew you were gonna bring it at FTC. But it’s not the same without you. I have no one to tease, no one to call out, no one’s business to air, no one’s game to undermine lmao- it’s too quiet, everyone’s dead. The reason I love our relationship so much is because we think very similarly so our elaborate multi-round game of cat and mouse game gave a lot amusement and frustration but most importantly focus. We are literally the movie Catch Me If You Can and you’re were always watching me scam everyone and do the most and no one wants to listen to you so you take it upon yourself to chase me yourself round after round. And I was always watching you and egging you on and doing everything I could to throw you off my tracks haha. You’re my Tom Hanks and I’m your Leo and a lot of people made it easy on me but you never did and I have a lot of respect for that. You never miss a beat and you have fantastic instincts so after all this time, I can finally say I am a TJ fan, fedora and all

#BackWithVengeance

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nukagalreacts · 5 years

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For the Anonymous who requested companions reacting to a Sole who loves to collect flowers!!

(Had a lot of fun typing this up, sorry it’s a little late! Hope you enjoy and yes I purposely left Gage out of this one)

Hancock: Thinks it’s a cute and interesting quirk that Sole adores decorating the state house with flowers and wearing them in their hair all the time. Honestly it makes for a fun time to be high and look at all the bright colors swirling in and out around him. Sole even tells him stories about how they use to own a little flower shop that was once their pride and joy. He ask them about it all the time because he loves seeing them smile and enjoy the memories of happier times. His favorite part though was when they would both get really high and Sole would end up making tons of flower accessories from flower crowns, necklaces and even belts, which Hancock lost his mind at and gave Sole a big smooch.

Dogmeat: At first the sweet pooch doesn’t understand what Sole is doing when she starts picking flowers and he thinks the flowers are for him to eat. He playfully leaps around Sole barking and trying to bite the flowers while Sole just laughs holding the flowers out of reach gently telling Dogmeat these aren’t for him. Dogmeat whines a little and pouts while he spends the rest of the time watching his master collect the flowers. He gets excited again when a while later Sole walks towards him smiling and holding something in their hands, he wags his tail happily and sits up patiently waiting. Sole is saying something and then placing a flower crown around Dogmeats ears. Dogmeat has no idea what just happened but Sole is gushing over him and giving him lot’s of pets which makes him the happiest good boy ever!

Strong: Literally destroys all of the flowers and makes Sole pretty upset! Sole tries to calmly explain to Strong that this is a hobby of there’s and they would really appreciate it if Strong would stop smashing all of the flowers! The super mutant doesn’t understand why Sole enjoys something so weak that disintegrates so easily in his fist. Sole at one point attempts to put a flower crown on Strongs head but he refuses to wear it saying it makes him look puny and weak. Sole opts for keeping Strong as far away as possible from any of their flowers.

Codsworth: Was happy to assist his master in this hobby of theirs since he already helped them frequently all those years ago. The Mr.Handy even helped rebuild the greenhouse Sole had kept in the backyard so they could not only grow food but flowers as well. Codsworth would attend to the greenhouse regularly making sure all plants were properly watered and trimmed.The robot was always sure to bring in a fresh bouquet of flowers to add to the many vases Sole kept around the house. When Sole made him a flower crown he was over the moon and proudly wore his masters creation where ever he went!

Cait: Doesn’t do soft or delicate things and isn’t sure what to make of Sole’s obsession with collecting flowers at first, except be confused. They would both be walking somewhere and Sole would get all excited running over to a patch of colorful flowers talking about how good they would look inside their house back in Sanctuary. Cait would just roll her eyes and tell Sole they didn’t have time for that kind of crap, which she quickly realized hurt Sole’s feelings. Cait felt really shitty after saying that so she apologized and asked Sole if she could make something for her, which Sole happily obliged. Now Cait proudly sports a fiery red flower crown every time she travels the Commonwealth with Sole.

Piper: Is super into watching Sole work with flowers, especially when Sole presses and preserves the flowers in pages of a notebook, each one with its name and a description of it. She even had Sole teach her how to do this so she could add to Sole’s collection and use her fancy penmanship! Piper even suggest they should make a business out of selling the flowers because she thinks Diamond city people could use some more pops of color in there lives and homes. Sole is hesitant at first but with encouragement from Piper they decided to give it a shot, and Piper lets them work out of her office. After a few weeks business is surprisingly good with flower crowns being a popular item among the residents.

Nick: Dwells on the old Nick’s memories of how he would bring flowers home to his wife all the time, and how much she loved them always earning him a kiss. The memories are bittersweet and make him a little sad, but with Sole’s love for flowers it makes for happier new memories. He doesn’t mind either when Sole insist on bringing some life into his office and Sole starts putting flowers on every available surface. One day while Sole is putting some flowers into a vase on Ellie’s desk they recall how much they loved it when their old spouse would surprise them with a bouquet of flowers after a day of work. The next evening Sole is surprised with a large bouquet with her name on it waiting on her desk in the detective agency. It earned Nick quit a kiss that he stored as a memory to revisit again and again whenever Sole was away.

Curie(Synth): Really only looks at plants from a medical usefulness perspective, because flowers where not something that was common in the vault. So she is curious and soaks up everything Sole teaches and shows her about flowers, constantly asking questions and wondering how flowers were before the fallout. Her and Sole even make a trip to Greentop Nursery to get tips and tricks on caring for different plants, it’s pretty adorable to see Curie actually take physical notes in a little notebook she carries around. Curie eventually learns that giving someone flowers can be used as a romantic gesture and goes out of her way to bring Sole flowers all the time, making Sole giddy as a school girl.

MacCready: He very much remembers the sentiment of giving flowers to a loved one, when he got the chance he would bring some home to lucy. He loved seeing little similarities between Sole and Lucy and was more than happy to play along with Soles interest in flowers. The only time it got a bit annoying was when he would find flowers wrapped around his sniper rifle before going out on a mission with Sole, later he would find it funny though. Sole even tucked a little flower on to his hat, and Mac would never admit it but he really loved having it and thinks it brings him good luck. What really made his day though was when you suggested sending flowers along with the cure for his son Duncan’s disease, it made him cry to be honest just how sweet Sole was.

Danse: Spent his whole life with the brotherhood it was all power armor, guns, blood, and sweat there was no time for things like flowers! The fact that Sole loved flowers so much but was this rough person who fit right in with the other soldiers baffled him to no end. They would both be in power armor stomping around the Commonwealth and Sole would suddenly bounce off in another direction yelling about needing the flowers they just spotted. Danse would have to remind them they were on a mission and didn’t have time for such nonsense, Sole would give him big puppy dog eyes saying it would only take a second. Danse couldn’t resist and would agree secretly enjoying how happy Sole would get. He even keeps a flower Sole gifted him secretly tucked away in his power armor as a way of always feeling close to Sole.

Deacon: Is with Sole 100% on loving flowers and thinks it’s super cute how Sole always tries to make people happy by giving them flowers all the time. He even helps them completely re-decorate the Railroad HQ with an overwhelming amount of flower prints and live plants and bright colors. It annoys the shit out of most of the other agents but Deacon defends both your actions by telling everyone the benefits of plants in the work environment. It delights Sole to no end that Deacon plays along with this and is even more happier when he agrees to wear matching flower crowns with them! At one point as a prank Deacon dresses up as a green shrub and manges to make half the agents piss themselves as he scares the daylights out of them when they return to HQ.

Preston: Finds your interest in flowers cute and refreshing from the usual stress and violence he has to face everyday along with Sole. He is also happy to see Sole having something that relaxes them from the constant burden of being General of the Minutemen. Whenever Sole isn’t helping the people of the Commonwealth achieve some impossible task they are in the private garden they set up behind the house them and Preston share. Preston even loves helping Sole out with the garden as a nice change of pace from having his laser musket in his hands all the time. His favorite part though is watching Sole give away the flowers they worked so hard to grow to the people who now call Sanctuary home without expecting anything in return except a warm smile.

X6-88: Accepts Sole’s love for flowers because he understands that having hobbies and interest is healthy for humans, and it's his job to make sure Sole is healthy and happy. He would never admit it but he likes following Sole down to the institutes greenhouse area and watching them work among the synths. Sole goes out of their way no matter how busy they are to pop into the greenhouse every day and constantly ask questions about the different plants that they have growing. Sometimes X6 has to come remind Sole that they need to sleep and eat because certain days Sole spends countless hours researching and working not even aware how much time goes by. X6 hates when Sole begs to go out into the Commonwealth to pick flowers themselves, and he reminds them that the Institute has whatever they need. Sole just argues that it’s not the same and keeps asking until he finally gives in and accompanies them on the ridiculous endeavor.

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witchqueenofthemoon · 5 years

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BODY AND SOUL Part 17 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: So I did a very rough outline of everything else I want to happen in this fic and I’m gonna tentatively say we’re halfway through it; I don’t know how long any given part is until I write it, so that might be wrong, but we’ll see! I at least have an endpoint in mind, though there’s a lot of stuff in between that endpoint and now, so never fear, Duckenzies, Duckenzie aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. I listened to ODESZA’s album A Moment Apart a lot while I wrote this chapter; that’s an album about LOVE for sure, so it’s very Duckenzie (I love Boy especially, a song that is pure Cody in my eyes--as rapturously beautiful as he is). I LOVED writing about Duncan putting Kenzie’s clothes away; clothes are such a big part of my life and are so important to me and they tell such an intimate story about a person, and clothing continues to be an important theme in this fic. The framed picture of Kenzie and Madeline is based on a real photo of Billie and Carrie (@hi-ilovedamien used it in one of the Instagram edits she made for my fic). The one of Kenzie and Claire is based on the fact that Billie and Leslie are super close IRL and love to go to Disneyland together (follow their Instagrams for plenty of proof on that one), and the one of Kenzie with her father is based on on this photo of Billie and her dad Bryan Lourd. Everything Duncan picks out for Kenzie on Agent Provocateur’s website is really from them except for the rose choker: this is the white lingerie, this is the black lingerie, this is the kimono, this is the sleeping set. The rose choker is real, it just isn’t from AP, but I included it there anyway because they do have a choker section on their website. Here’s Duncan’s Givenchy sunglasses. Stoked to finally include mention of Duncan’s private plane, it’ll show up more in the future. I couldn’t find a mirror that looks quite like theirs: this is about the right size, so imagine it gilded in gold grape vines, and you get the idea. I found Duncan’s study desk, by the way. The peacock clockwork in Stapleton’s Antiques is something like this but bigger and just the peacock. Frederick isn’t an AU, he’s my character, but he definitely has some weird ancestry and a belief in the occult; he knew the mirror was magickal in nature, though he kept that mostly to himself. His story about the Vicountess isn’t quite accurate, but she was indeed a witch. Jack Rose is a real whiskey bar in DC and my friend/coworker Christina told me about it, so my including it is a nod to her because she hasn’t watched APOCALYPSE or HOUSE OF CARDS and doesn’t even know who Cody or Billie are and still listens to me talk about this fic CONSTANTLY at work and at least pretends to be interested, thanks babe, you are great. I had a lot of fun including Tyler, my Taylor Lautner AU, in this part, and based his look on this photo from when he and Billie were still dating. Here’s Claire’s dress at the bar. Here’s Nat King Cole’s THE VERY THOUGHT OF YOU, a very Duckenzie song. Regarding the sex: Duncan enjoys doing what Kenzie tells him to do more than anything--any domination of her is always tinged with her needs. They’re both switchers in the bedroom (you’ve probably noticed), but Duncan does what Kenzie wants him to do, important to keep in mind--she really enjoys the ways he dominates her, so she asks for those things, but the decision is primarily hers and he follows her leads. Once you’ve been having sex for awhile, you start to notice that once in awhile, you have a really fucking great orgasm among a bunch of other pretty great orgasms, and the fucking great, lost-in-nothing-for-awhile, screaming-involuntarily-because-its-that-fucking-intense kind are the kind of orgasms Duncan and Kenzie have in this part. I hope all of y’all reading along have an orgasm like that at some point in your lives, cuz it’s always one for the books.

Duncan had watched Kenzie run away from him, down the hall to the elevators--which somehow slid open immediately, as if to mock him in his longing--and ached. My Persephone, leaving me; only to return to me later, her hair full of flowers, her skin smelling of nature, trees, the clear air, and sweet herbs. Kenzie’s eyes gazed across to him as the doors slid shut once more, and they were golden and green, her little mouth smiling, her tawny hair over her shoulder, the roundness of her thighs visible above the long black boots--he blinked, the vision of wings, the vision of her wings flashing across his eyes again, residue from the dream--it had been so vivid, so bright, and the emotion in him had been overwhelming, like a storm. And then she was gone, and he was staring at the doors, breathless with her memory. I know we can’t always be together, but god, the hole she leaves when she isn’t tucked under my arm. It’s like a raw wound. He turned from the entrance of the penthouse, letting the door swing shut behind him--not realizing his hand was at his jaw, trailing over his lips. The darkness he’d felt coiled in the pit of him in that dream rested there still, along the lining of him, with a sticky and sickeningly heavy residue--the divinity of her light in it still tingled along the edge of of his mind, the smell of her hair dancing through his fingers, and he lifted his fingers to his nose and breathed in--roses, vetiver, geranium, and the sweet muskiness that was the crook of her mouth and the space between her legs. Now she is everywhere here, he thought, satisfied, looking over at the little bowl he’d handed her an hour ago, now empty of granola and fruit and in the sink, silver spoon resting inside it, wet with the residue of milk and berries. Now there is a small gold lining in every corner of this place, painted with the finest brush, and it dazzles me.

He thought of the tears they’d shed against each other in the darkness of the room that was now their bedroom as their bodies had shuddered in release; the terror and wondrous beauty of the realization that no, I haven’t been dreaming words into her, the words and emotions and colors I’ve felt have really been coming from her, and somehow, beyond all understanding, sometimes, I can hear Kenzie’s thoughts and feel what she is feeling, and the gold I see is her soul, kissing into me with the most tender of touches, shivering down onto me like a paper-thin wave of sunlight. And god, it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever fucking felt; it’s more beautiful than anything I can see with my eyes, it’s like a boon from beyond time, and my body and soul are abject and amplified in her. The words and feelings I’ve felt towards her, from her--they feel as though I’ve pulled them from deep memories, as if I’ve begun to awaken from an ageless sleep I’ve slept for eons, and she was there at the beginning of that sleep, and now, having finally woken, she is here again, as it was always meant to be. Duncan found himself lost in these thoughts, hands trailing through his hair, as he leaned down to where he’d left his smooth black iPhone on the nightstand, idly opening the Instagram app and going to Kenzie’s profile--already I miss her face, already I want to look at it again, anyway I can. @kenzielouwho. Duncan noticed she’d now amassed over a million followers--his heart twinged with a vague worry, thinking of the man who’d gotten into the Post building yesterday, her little tear-stained face pressing into his shirt, the trembling in her body, her cheeks white, eyes haunted with shock. A million strangers and how many of them want to hurt her? His blood felt cold, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling. If only I could shield her from every hurt, always. If only I could be sure she would always be safe. The thought of Kenzie being hurt filled him with a terrible dread, a nameless emotion beyond terror, beyond despair--a sorrow that felt like a dagger plunging into his ribs and rending his body in two. But Duncan pushed the fear out of him with a stern hand, the voice of reason in his mind cutting it off. Your Kenzie is marvelously brave and as beautiful as the full moon rising on a clear night, as the stars turning in the heavens. Trust her. She can do this. She can be in this world. She has a heart made of melted gold, you’ve pressed your lips to it, and you know she is stronger than you are. With her, you will create wonders. You will move mountains.

He went to the photo she’d taken and posted the night before--the two of them in the shadowy backseat of the BMW, neon lights drifting across his cheek and her forehead, her wide eyes, framed by heavy lashes, staring out at him; his profile pressed to her, his expression serene. The longest day, the greatest love. Oh, beloved. Kenzie. Truly you are my greatest love. My only love. The One. He scrolled idly through the comments; scores of heart emojis and reaction faces and stunned, excited comments, some bitter towards her, and Duncan felt twinges of resentment around his heart at them--you don’t know her light, you can’t know, whoever you are, how dare you, as if you know her and you fucking don’t--even though he knew these emotions, sent out into the ether, were essentially useless. Most of the comments, however, seemed genuinely positive--some bordered on obsessively enamored, fervent, worshipful. #Duckenzie are forever love one said, followed by neon hearts that matched the colors falling across his and Kenzie’s faces in the photo.

I want them to adopt me followed by a long line of sobbing emojis

You are the most beautiful couple of all time, King and Queen of Earth

They’re like something from a fairy tale, I can’t even handle it asfajhdlghslgha

@DUNCANSHEPHERD PUT A RING ON IT

Shepherd Unlimited: now the most powerful company AND the most powerful couple in the world

#DUCKENZIE FOR PRESIDENT(S) SCRATCH THAT WE ARE NOW A MONARCHY

I wanna be right in the middle of that Duckenzie sandwich like fuck my bi ass up

Their energy is too powerful to even look at, I’ve gone blind

Duncan clicked through to his own profile; he’d amassed another 20k followers since the last time he looked at it, bringing him past 8 million, and he gazed down at the two photos of her that were his most recent posts, each with over 170k and 180k likes; one of Kenzie sleepily leaning against the backseat of the BMW in afternoon sunlight; the other of her gazing down happily at the succulent in the oversized tee shirt, damp hair on her shoulder. I could look at these all day, he thought. But Duncan remembered, looking up; he’d asked if he could organize her things, and she’d said yes. The thought of putting Kenzie’s little clothes in his closet thrilled him, made his head hazy, made him hard; Duncan stood, bare feet feeling the thick rug that extended far around the bed--he moved beyond it to the dark hardwood, reaching for her clothes on the hanging rack in the corner. He turned toward the doorway for a moment, eyes falling over the wall beside it; that’s where the mirror should go, he thought. The side of the bed facing it clearly; and the hook we’ll hang from the ceiling above it, the hook will be right in front of it, close, so we can fuck there, standing, her little arms extended by the soft rope and her body stretched out to me, and she can press her sweetness down onto my mouth and I can watch myself eat her, watch the pleasure in her eyes and the tremble of her body, prostrate to me there, I can watch my worship, I can see every delicate turn of her and be smitten again and again, besotted in her, angel baby…

Duncan shivered and turned back to her clothes, hands trailing along in them; the smell of her rose off them in a delicate wave, and he felt drunk on it. He carefully lifted the hangers up, taking only a few pieces at a time into the closet, gazing down at them; her beautiful little dresses, babydoll and bodycon and with flowing skirts, and long-sleeved button-downs and turtle and mock necks, low-cut blouses and high-necked form-fitting tops and v-necks and wrap tops, some with prints of flowers or celestial bodies or patterns, and some lovely dresses in white and cream and sand, but most of them in solid, earth-tone colors. He lined them beside the new things she’d bought and hung in the closet the other day; he felt greedy, wanted more there, wanted the whole closet to be full of her things so he could stare at them and smell them and drink them in; wanted her gold on everything. His eyes fell over the red dress he’d gotten her at Nancy’s shop--the one that had kindled feverish lust in him, made him press his fingers between her legs and coax her into an orgasm on his lap, and he thought of the fall of her hair and her little teeth when she smiled and laughed and the bob of her throat when she was sad, tears streaking down her cheeks, and he shivered again. She is so beautiful. It makes my heart fucking ache. He thought of her pressing kisses between his shoulders this morning; you aren’t dark, baby. You aren’t. Duncan thought of all the things he’d done at his mother’s bidding for the furtherment of Shepherd Unlimited; thought of the app that he knew was mining people’s personal information, the hidden overseas accounts, his Uncle’s attempts to unseat President Underwood; he wondered if, in this case, it was wrong to hope his Uncle’s death would come soon. If one man causes so much suffering to others, is his death truly something to mourn? Only when Bill was gone would they be able to reshape Shepherd Unlimited into something that could cease harming others and begin to aid them. We have so much, he marveled, staring at the delicate pieces of Kenzie’s wardrobe, having finished hanging everything from the rack across from his dark monochrome clothes on the other side. How can I not have seen it before, really seen it, and known that I needed to reshape the company to help the rest of the world? That’s what I’m meant to do. I see that now. Kenzie has brought not only her light across everything in my life; she’d kindled the desire in me to further that light to touch as many people as I can. The Fates have blessed us, and I think they expect us to share those blessings further. She was meant to open my heart and my eyes to everything. Kenzie’s clothing juxtaposed sharply with his; the earthy tones of her, the shadowy tones of him. Persephone comes to Hades in his dark realm and kisses sweet flowers into his mouth, bringing him back to life from his cold death-state. She kindles the latent embers of his soul; stokes them back to a burning fire in his heart.

For her. It’s all for her. All for you, Kenzie. My body and my soul.

Duncan continued to move Kenzie’s things carefully into the closet with studied reverence; he had always been neat by nature, having been raised by a meticulous mother and taught that discretion was of paramount importance, coordination and careful study the measure of one’s mettle, and he organized the clothing in the boxes according to style and function and then by color; starting with whites and moving down through the rainbow to gray and black at the end. He moved on to two other boxes that held her shoes; the strappy sandals she was wearing them they met (he cradled them affectionately), little kitten heels he knew she wore to work sometimes, suede boots in black and saddle, more heeled sandals and flat sandals and black heels with pointed toes; Duncan loved how small they were, marveled at the size of her little feet, and carefully lined them on the shelves he’d cleared for them on the opposite side of the one that had dozens of pairs of his black boots and dress shoes along it. He marveled, shyly, at her, seemingly, scores of pairs of panties (some silky, some cotton, in every color and style he could think of--brief ands bikini and lacy and thongs--and a particular box that seemed to have only comfortable boycuts, most of them with period stains, and he carefully placed those in a bottom drawer together) and the loveliness of her bras; soft and silky, their small cups sliding through his fingers. Looking at her underthings just made Duncan long to buy her more--he thought of her in lacy, flowing lingerie, a garter belt and suspenders and a lacy chiffon robe, her chestnut hair falling around her shoulders, the Tiffany moon at her throat, glittering in low light, and his mind grew hazy with the sweetness of the thought. He looked down at the little labels on one of the bras and on her panties, committing her size to memory. It’d been a long time since he’d bought lingerie for a woman (most of the romantic attachments with women in his life up until now hadn’t lasted long enough for him to do something so intimate for them)--it had been for Misha, ancient history--and Duncan vaguely hoped, thinking as he slipped on a pair of black cashmere socks, that Kenzie wouldn’t mind him picking out something so intimate for her; she was so fierce in her own stylistic preferences, after all. But now that he’d carefully looked at her wardrobe, he felt sure he knew what she would like, and what she wouldn’t. Her clothes are a little piece of her soul; the way my clothes are a little piece of mine. They tell a story about her; the story of her gold aura and her bravery and how hard she works, the way she guards herself, the trembling delicacy of her emotions, with what she wears, the lovely scent of her and the shape of her and the interest she has in nature and in colors, in space and stars and celestial images, in cuts that flatter her body and make her feel comfortable and make her feel attractive. It’s a lovely wardrobe. If I didn’t already love her, I would after I saw it this way, this closely; if I’d seen this wardrobe out of a hundred others, I feel I’d know it on sight as hers, even if I’d never met her. I don’t know I know that, but I know. Duncan looked inside some of the other boxes the movers had stacked along the wall; some had books in them, more of her little jewelry boxes (one was a little gold-embossed, mirrored tray full of tiny rings, another a Victorian-style box with bracelets inside, including the twisting one she’d worn the night he first saw her on the balcony); one had her constellation bedspread, others her beautiful little tchotchkes; her moon alarm clock, crystal towers and geodes and incense and other lovely things that felt like her and looked like her and smelled like her to him, delicate, gold-sheened: an array of tiny china birds, her moon and sun wind chimes, framed pictures of her with Madeline (Kenzie was sitting on her lap, clutching her mother’s face close, eyes turned down, and Duncan’s affection for her fell over him in a wave again), one of her with Claire at Disney World (both of them in Mickey ears holding Mickey ice cream bars, grinning with happy abandon), and another with her in a black dress, golden hair over her shoulder, and an older, balding man with a friendly smile; clearly her father. He looked over them lovingly, but didn’t presume to move them--she could put them anywhere she wanted, where she wanted them, because this space belonged to her now, too, and anything of hers was a boon to him, a bright little piece of her blessing a space that had been cold and empty of warmth to him for so long.

Duncan went out to the vast space of his open living room in the quiet daylight, stepping over to where the Bouguereau prints stretched between Dike and Nike, his arms crossed in contemplation; he’d always found them beautiful, but now they seemed unearthly in their beauty to him; each of the aspects of the cycle of the day reminded him of Kenzie now; each one was her, her turning her body under him in the shadow of the evening, her lifting her face to kiss him, her reaching across his body to put her little hands around him, the aspect of her sleeping face against the pillow. He hesitated, contemplating going into the study to look at The Youth of Bacchus, but stopped himself; something about it was tied irrevocably to her now, and he longed to look at her looking at it instead; the wondrous affectation of her eyes moving over it, entranced. I should look up the next auction at Sotheby’s, he thought. That blank wall in the bedroom...and our birthdays are soon. I want to dedicate more than the Gala to her. I want to dedicate art, all the beauty I see, and my life, to her. She deserves absolutely everything. She deserves a painting of her own, one that reminds me of her, given with all my love.

Duncan went to the low leather couch, opening his Macbook there and glancing at his emails, but not opening any of them, even though he noticed a very important message there that he’d been waiting for; from the President’s secretary, in reply to a correspondence he’d begun a few days before. He saw the first line in the preview; President Underwood has agreed to see you on Thursday. Midday is best, around 2 PM. She isn’t feeling up to talking for very long--and then it cut off. Perfect, he thought. Just need to get in the door. He went out of his email and opened a new tab, typing into the bar at the top of the screen: agentprovocateur.com. As he scrolled through the models in delicate lingerie, Duncan’s thoughts were full of Kenzie; her golden hair falling down her back, her eyes on him over her shoulder, the round rise of her ass and her gorgeous, curvy hips under his hands, the tiny hairs around the lips of her sex, the roundness of her little nipples growing hard under his fingers, her delicate collarbones, the space under her ear that fit so well into his hand, the softness of her there under his lips, her wide hazel eyes, flecks of gold and bronze whirling in their depth, framed by long eyelashes that battered into his heart when she looked at him--he felt continually swept away under her gaze, as though it took him again and again into another world, one where they were alone and undisturbed, free to look into each other for ages and contemplate the wonder of the other. My Kenzie. My heart. The half of me that was ripped away, the half of me I found again, somehow, miraculous, trembling like rain on roses, my heart whole again.

Duncan chose two full lingerie sets for her. One was in black, with intricate, criss-crossing geometric embellishments in transparent tulle along the bust and suspenders, with long, sheer black stockings. The second was sheer nude with white flowering lace embellishments and white banding, with bows on the suspenders and the front of the panties, the breasts exposed (I can’t wait to press my mouth against her there through the tulle, feel the beating of her heart under her breasts with my lips while she watches me in the mirror, tied up nice and tight), and sheer stockings. The thought of Kenzie wearing them set a bonfire in the center of him; made the back of his neck tingle, coiled heat between his thighs. Duncan went to the section titled cuffs, chokers and bodychains, his skin humming, his breath catching as his eyes fell on a thick, black buckled choker with a silver stemmed rose attached to the front of it. He imagined Kenzie wearing it, staring up at him as he tied her wrists into velvet ropes, and he felt another wave of dizzy desire wash over him. Oh, fuck, baby. My little rose; roses on the balcony, roses in the bathtub, roses here on this table that I got for you because they remind me of you, my rose. I’m going to fucking devour you. To him it seemed as though the choker had been made just for her--the better for me to adorn her in worship. He added it to the cart, imagining the look in her eyes when she opened the telltale pink box and saw it nestled between the tissue paper, and Duncan felt himself harden with a shiver. Be patient, she’d told him. He wondered when she would tie him up. Duncan looked down at the screen again, coming back from his thoughts.

He also picked out a short black silk kimono with a tying sash and flowing lace embellishments at the hem and sleeves, and a sleeping shorts-and-top set in pink satin with straps and black lace around the open neckline. As much as Duncan loved Kenzie sleeping in his graphic tees, he couldn’t help but feel she deserved something more beautiful to wear to sleep; as beautiful as she was, as delicate and fascinating. And I have my own selfish reasons, he thought, blushing unbeknownst to himself in the quiet morning light, going to the checkout and typing in his Black AmEx card number, choosing next-day shipping. She’s so fucking beautiful and I want to see her in finespun beautiful things that look like they came from heaven like she did before I carefully undress her, over and over and over, and kiss every inch of her body for as long as she’ll let me. Duncan thought of his dream of her that morning again; the wings from her back, the iridescence of the halo that hovered around her, the serene expression in her eyes, like galaxies turning in their obscure orbits; they’d been in some celestial ether, a clouded place of blushing colors, and he had knelt before her, stunned by her. The dream had felt...not like a dream, somehow, in that it was real, in that it was the past, or the future, or something that was happening somehow; something that had happened in another time, or was going to happen, or was going on in this moment in some other place. Duncan felt dizzy--the details of the dream were slipping away little by little, but he tried to grasp at the image of her in it; paint its outline onto his memory. If I can remember just that, the halo and her wings and her face looking at me with such love and concord, so much compassion for me, a dark and lowly creature. That’s enough.

Duncan leaned back from his Macbook, hitting the home button on his phone, clutched in his palm, going into his contacts absent-mindedly, thoughts still on the dream of Kenzie, and highlighting a certain name there. Frederick Stapleton. Frederick had been the most trusted antiques dealer for the Shepherd family for two decades. He’d found Duncan’s mahogany study desk (19th century--Kenzie sitting on it, naked, staring at me with velvet rope) and had been curating Annette’s personal collection for the better part of his career. He’ll know where I can find what I’m looking for. Duncan hit the call button and held the phone up to his ear. It rang four times, then a warm voice floated through.

“Stapleton Antiques.”

“Frederick, it’s Duncan Shepherd. How are you?”

“Ah, Duncan, what an unexpected surprise. I’m well--very well, actually, we recently got in several exquisite pieces from 17th century France, if you’re in the market, though I deign to part with them, honestly, they are so exceptional--”

“Frederick, thank you, no, I have a very important request.”

“I’m listening. You know I love a challenge.”

“I need a mirror. A very large standing mirror. Gilded would be ideal; something beautiful….something exceptionally beautiful. Maybe 8 or 9 feet.”

There was silence on the other side of the phone for a few moments, then a satisfied chuckle from Frederick; he was well over 80 now, but Duncan was pleased to hear the vibrancy of his voice through the phone; still full of life.

“I think I have just the thing. Can you come by today?”

“I can come right now. Thank you, Frederick, I knew I could count on you for this.”

“You, of course, were right, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Half an hour?”

“Very good, Mr. Shepherd. I think you’ll be very pleased.”

“See you then.”

Duncan hung up, standing and slipping his phone into his back pocket, fingers idly trailing through his hair, coming down to rest around his chin as he went to the closet, choosing one of the dozen pairs of Yves Wyatt black boots on the rack of his shoes towards the middle of the walk-in’s length; he turned for a moment, staring again at Kenzie’s little shoes he’d lined carefully on the opposite shelf, his gaze zeroing in on the sandals he remembered untying delicately from her feet, his lips on the red stripes they’d made on her ankles, that first press of their bodies together, whiskey making him bold in the face of her loveliness. His skin felt hot and flushed; nervous energy was sliding along it, his anticipation singing. He’d never known Frederick to be one to boast; if he said he had what Duncan described, he had it. God, I still wish my mother hadn’t insisted on fitting her today like this, though, Duncan thought with frustration, choosing a pair of Givenchy aviators from one of the adjacent shelves that held his dozen pairs of black designer sunglasses in varying styles. I wish she could come with me, if she doesn’t love it absolutely it isn’t good enough. It has to be perfect. The thought of them being able to spend the whole day together tomorrow was humming in the back of his mind, a secret thrill of joy and relief. Our first whole day together, just the two of us. Nobody to tell us where we have to be. God, I hope she likes those pieces I ordered. She’s going to look so fucking beautiful in them, I might just fucking die. Duncan thought vaguely of looking at his emails before he left, but a heightened kind of abandon was building behind his temples. It can wait. Everything can wait. Kenzie is more important than all of this, any of this. She told me she wants me to do this today while she’s gone, and her wish is my command, my duty. So emails, fuck off.

Duncan slid the aviators over his eyes, switching his phone out of his pocket to call an Uber Black, sliding his Ferragamo wallet into it instead, and left the penthouse, letting the long black door swing smoothly shut behind him, his thoughts full of her, her gold-flecked hazel eyes. Whatever you want, baby. Anything you want.

------

Duncan arrived at the antique shop about twenty minutes later--Stapleton Antiques was a stylish, squarish mid-century brick building partially hidden by two very old oaks on either side of its eaves, a well-kept secret with almost exclusively seven-figure clients. They didn’t even have a sign; you either knew what it was, or you didn’t. Duncan thanked his driver and stepped out of the Mercedes that had picked him up, the anxious energy humming along under his skin again. He glanced down at his Movado, eyes skirting over the edge of his sunglasses; it was just a little after 2 PM. He wondered idly what Kenzie was doing, how she was faring with his stern mother, how she was feeling. He pulled his phone out on the sidewalk and opened his text messages, sending one to Kenzie.

Hope everything is going okay, baby. I think I found the mirror. I’ll send you a picture in a minute when I get inside to look at it. Please tell me what you think, if it isn’t perfect, I’ll keep looking. He hit send, hesitated for a moment, then typed again.

I realized tomorrow is our first full day together without any interruptions. I was thinking we could go to the beach. What do you think? We have house in Yarmouth, around Cape Cod. We can just go for the day and fly back with the jet. It’ll be just us: just me and you. It’s supposed to be sunny and beautiful tomorrow. I just wanna hold you and kiss you in the sand.

He saw the telltale bubbles appear under his message almost immediately; Duncan marveled at the way his nerves thrilled at the prospect of her answer. All I want is to be near her, to talk to her, to listen to her speak, to read her words or look at her. Nothing else is so wonderful. Nothing.

Kenzie: WOW, baby, that sounds AMAZING! Yes!!! I didn’t realize you had a jet, though I guess I should have assumed that. That sounds so perfect, like a dream. I’m not with Annette anymore, I’m at Morgan’s studio, the designer Claire works for. Erik’s here. He’s going to help us decide what I should wear for the Gala and Morgan’s going to make it.

The bubbles appeared again, and then another text.

Your mom and I got into an argument. I mentioned you’d told me that you’re going to be co-chairman of the company when your Uncle passes away. She didn’t like that very much. I’m sorry I said something but she was trying to bait me again and I lost my temper and told her I deserve to know important things about your life. She left after that and Erik and I went on with the dress planning alone.

Of course they got into an argument, Duncan thought. You’re the one who fucking demanded Kenzie come do this fitting with you, Mom, and then you storm out. You treat her terribly and expect her to just put up with it. Not my Kenzie. He tried to quell the anger the immediately rose in him towards his mother and took a deep breath, shutting his eyes; changing Shepherd Unlimited is going to be an uphill battle the whole way. Thank whatever gods may be that I have Kenzie by my side now.

Baby, he replied, it’s okay. You DO deserve to know, you’re right. And eventually she’s going to see that too. My mother is a very stubborn person but I know she wants what’s best for me. She just needs to accept that what’s best for me is you. I’m so glad Erik is still with you. He’s trustworthy.

Duncan lowered the phone in his hand and stepped into the brick building, taking his sunglasses off and tucking them into the dip of his shirt; the musty smell of very old wood enveloped him, but the interior was meticulously clean; anything displayed in the front (chests and Tiffany lamps and crystal chandeliers) had been polished to its clearest, cleanest sheen, and Duncan’s eyes immediately fell on the gigantic golden clockwork peacock in the center of the room. This peacock had been here since he was a child; it had jeweled emerald eyes and it moved its head back and forth from its wing feathers on the hour, a chime erupting from somewhere deep inside it to mark the passage of time. The clock was very old; Russian, 18th century. Duncan had always loved it, and it had been at least two years since the last time he’d personally set foot in Stapleton’s. The sight of it immediately transported him back in time to when Frederick used to give him tiny caramel candies while he waited for his mother to look at whatever fine thing she’d asked Frederick to find. He’d stare at it for hours, the taste of the caramel in his mouth, the sight of the the golden peacock fascinating his eyes. Duncan thought of Kenzie’s gold aura; I have to bring her to see this peacock sometime, he thought. She would love it so much. And Frederick would love her. Of course he would love her. Everyone loves her. Kenzie is an angel and everything she touches turns to gold.

He stepped up to the peacock, gazing at it in his nostalgic drift (it was still right now, 2 having come and gone), and he was brought out of it by a warm voice to his right; “There you are, Duncan, come this way,” and he turned to see the back of Frederick’s head, white hair surrounding a shiny bald spot, already vanishing through the side-doorway to the back area, an area only ever seen by those who had gained the Stapleton’s trust and loyalty. Duncan glanced at the peacock one more time (Kenzie) and pushed the curtain in the doorway aside (it was heavy and red and velvet and smelled like the backstage of a theater). The back room was much dustier, and always in various states of disarray; this was where the new pieces came first and were sorted and appraised and cleaned. Frederick was in the far corner, an area comprised of mostly stacks of wooden boxes with precious cargo, still nailed shut, rolled Persian rugs, and a large antique dresser that seemed to be in the middle of being cleaned; against the wall was a very long black curtain, visibly dusty, draped over a huge squarish shape; taller than Duncan by several inches.

“Duncan, it’s wonderful to see you again. It’s been far too long,” Frederick said. His half-moon glasses rested at the bridge of his nose; his eyes were very dark brown behind them, as if they held great depth, long secrets, tomes of ancient knowledge. Duncan had always thought so; had always felt as thought Frederick knew things that most people didn’t, spending all his time with the artifacts of lives long lived and gone on to the next plane, yet leaving the residue of those lives behind in the objects they had spent their time with. Frederick brought his wrinkled hands together, the curved silver handle of his cane resting in front of him on its four-pronged clawed feet, his white-bearded face breaking into a smile, tiny crows-feet crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“It has, Frederick. It’s nice to see the peacock again--and you. I was thinking about how you used to give me those little candies. Thank you for that.”

“You look very well, if I may say so, Mr. Shepherd.”

“I’m in love, Frederick.”

“I can tell. It’s shining out of you like a lighthouse. Quite a sight, I must say. Is this mirror--this great mirror of gilded loveliness--meant to be a gift for the one you love?”

“It is.”

“In that case, I think I really do have the right piece for you. It’s very...special.” Frederick spread his hands apart at this statement, stepping carefully, slowly, his gait stiff, using the cane with a silvery curved hook at the end, towards where the black curtain fell over the shape that leaned to the wall. “It’s quite singular, really. As the story goes, it belonged to a Viscountess in France, a few years before the start of the Revolution--1778 or ‘79, we’re not certain. Her parties, they say, were akin to how the Greeks imagined the hedonistic revelries of the Bacchanalia. Some say she worshipped Satan; others believe she was a practitioner of witchcraft, others still believe she was another kind of divine being; a Maenad, a handmaiden of Bacchus, a nymph of Dionysus, she of the wild ways. Whatever the truth--and likely she was nothing more than a woman unchained by society’s expectations of her--the mirror survived the rages of the Revolution, several sea voyages and World War II in a Belgian basement during its German occupation, among other things. The mirror, some say, will kindle the deepest desires of those who stare into it long enough--desires that transcend earthly passions, desires that touch the divine. In any case: the piece itself is truly one of a kind.”

With that, Frederick pulled carefully at the edge of the black curtain; Duncan saw a small cloud of dust lift from it as it fell away, and wondered how long the mirror had waited here along the wall for him; felt acutely, suddenly, that its wait had been for him, for them, for him and Kenzie, for the time when they found each other again, and he shivered as the curtain fell away. The mirror beneath was huge, a vast square of reflective energy; it stretched along the expanse of the wall, as long as it was tall--he stepped closer, almost involuntarily, to study its intricate details; the carvings that stretched along the framing, gold-embossed, were of the tendrils, vines, flowers and fruits of grapes; the nectar of the wine god. The mirror’s surface seemed untouched by time; it was still as clear as a pool of spring water, unblemished by the ages, and it stretched at least 8 feet long; the entirety of the room behind it illuminated in its reflection. Duncan reached out with a careful hand and ran it along the left side of the frame; the soft gold-and-bronze plating was cool and smooth under the tips of his fingers; they tingled, and he shivered. He stared at his reflection in the flawless surface; his sharp blue eyes, the stubble around his jaw, the rise of his lips, his hair falling behind his ears in soft waves. I’ve been waiting for you, the mirror whispered, in some secret, obtuse deja vu, into the center of his mind. I was preserved for the time you were together again--preserved by magick. By a strong spell that stood the test of hundreds of years. I belong to her. To the woman you love. I was always hers and I am always meant to be hers. Just like you.

“Frederick...wow,” Duncan murmured, glancing over his shoulder in the mirror’s reflection at the old man. “This is...more than I could have hoped for. It’s extraordinary. It’s...ethereal. Like it came from another world.”

“I knew it wouldn’t disappoint you. It’s been in the collecton for quite sometime--I never felt inclined to show it to anyone. I felt as though I couldn’t part with it. Until now, that is. For some reason, it feels as though it was meant to be yours all along. Isn’t that strange.”

“Can I please take a picture of it? I need to show it to her. I need to make sure it’s...it has to be perfect.”

“Certainly, Duncan. I’ll be at the front desk. Take your time.”

Frederick left, turned on his spindly silver-hooked cane as Duncan watched him through the mirror again; something in it seemed to shimmer in his gaze for a moment, as if a wave of gold passed over the surface, and Duncan was filled with a strange feeling, as if a rising tide had coursed down into his veins, swirled around his heart, pressed into the lining of his mind; as if something had fallen into place. He breathed deeply; the mirror was one of the most beautiful objects he had ever seen, and the thought of it in their bedroom, facing their bed, Kenzie’s golden hair falling around her shoulders in her reflection, her body turning in her beautiful little clothes, or naked, the softness of her skin in low light, her wrists tied tightly together and her arms extended to the ceiling, her form stretched towards it, her eyes shining out of its surface at him as he revered her body, its reflection of her a worship of her loveliness, filled him with fire. All for the worship of you, beloved. Oh, Kenzie, Mackenzie, my love.

Duncan pulled his phone out, stepping back several feet to include the entirety of the gigantic mirror in the photo; he smiled a little at his own reflection, his Givenchy sunglasses tucked over the front of his button-down, hair falling a little over his forehead, out at Kenzie, on the other side of the city, and added it to a text to her. Baby, it’s unbelievably beautiful. The picture can’t really do it justice. It seems like it was always meant to be ours. And it’s HUGE, 9 x 9 feet, he typed. He hit Send.

He looked up at it again as he waited for her reply; Duncan’s hand went to his chin involuntarily, his thoughts muddled by the beauty of this great object in front of him, his soul shaken by it. How had Frederick come upon such an extraordinary object, and how had it remained here until this very day, falling into his grasp this way? It seemed like Fate again to him; it seemed heavily destined. Duncan couldn’t imagine any other explanation. Like seeing Kenzie on that balcony among the roses, his heart struck with a longing he could not begin to fight, every sound fading and the starlight illuminating the fall of her hair, the shape of her shoulders, the jewels at her throat, and her eyes looking up at him from beneath the fall of her long lashes, stopping his heart. The mirror seemed to know him immediately, recognize the shape of him, as if it had beheld him before. As if I stood here before, in another room and another time and another place, but stood here in its gaze, and it remembers me now. He shivered again. His phone chimed, and he looked back down, tearing his eyes away from the colossal shape of it.

Kenzie: Duncan, oh my god. I can’t believe that’s even real. It’s AMAZING. It looks like it came from another world. Baby, I’m speechless.

Her echo of his own words sent a cold finger down Duncan’s spine. It really does, he typed back. I thought the same thing. It’s yours now. I can’t wait to see you, angel. I can’t wait to see your beautiful reflection in it.

Kenzie: Dunny, baby. I love you so much. Morgan made the most beautiful sketch for my dress...I can only imagine how gorgeous it’s going to be. I want it to be a surprise. Claire and I were thinking of getting a drink after we’re finished with Morgan and Erik--do you want to meet us somewhere? xxxxxxx

Duncan stared down at the X’s, his heart pounding. Dunny, baby. He thought of the day they’d planned tomorrow; the beach and sunlight and solitude, the promise of being wrapped in her arms all day, responsibilities forgotten and faraway. He thought of them finally alone in front of this mirror in their bedroom, Kenzie tied up under his hot, eager hands, thought of the lingerie he’d bought her that was soon to arrive in delicate pink boxes, and his body ached for her. Kenzie, I love you too. I can’t fucking wait to see that dress. Meet me at Jack Rose around 5?

Kenzie: That sounds good, baby. See you soon. She left the lipstick stain emoji at the end.

Duncan turned away from the mirror, his eyes lingering over its exquisite beauty for another moment, and went through the red curtain, to buy it from Frederick Stapleton.

-----

Duncan had made another purchase from Frederick before leaving the exclusive antique shop; a heavy, gilded ceiling hook made of bronze alongside a very long bronze-link chain that he now carried in a cloth bag clutched in his hand as he stepped outside. He vaguely mentioned something to Frederick about needing to hang a very heavy chandelier; if Frederick suspected it was for something else, he did not let on, just nodded and brought Duncan to an area that had dozens of antique hooks of varying sizes and styles. Duncan stepped into the car he’d called, asking the driver to take him back to the penthouse--he’d made arrangements with Frederick to have the mirror delivered within the hour, and there was still his email, unchecked today, that needed to be taken care of; not just coordinating his upcoming meeting with Claire Underwood, unbeknownst to Annette and his Uncle, but the confirmation of his Post interview with Kenzie and Ben Wilder next week. God, that mirror, his thoughts drifting away from emails, I want her to see it as soon as possible. It belongs in our bedroom. It has to be there when she gets home tonight. Frederick had given him a strange look before quoting the price to him; Duncan was still wondering what the look had meant, but he’d only asked for $100,000 for the mirror (the mirror to end all mirrors, Duncan thought); an extraordinarily low price for a piece so storied, unique, and rare. Duncan had balked at the amount--”Surely it’s worth more than that, Frederick.”

“It is.”

“Then why?”

“It’s meant to be yours.”

Duncan stared at the old man, studying him for a moment; Frederick stared back casually, decisively, as though his decision had come and gone and it was no longer something he could recant.

“This woman you love. It’s a gift for her, you said.”

“Yes. It is. She’s…” Duncan trailed off, looking away, feeling moisture gather in his eyes; words failed him, and he pressed his lips together, fighting off the wave of emotion that had crashed into him. She’s my one true love. She’s my soulmate. She’s the other half of me. The thoughts oscillated in his mind, filling him with blushing ardor. He pressed his hand to his chin, along his bottom lip, overcome.

“Mr. Shepherd. As I see it, the mirror is being returned to its owner. That’s all that can be said. All my happiness goes with it, to both of you.”

Duncan looked back up at the other man, and he nodded and smiled, because there were no more words to be said; Frederick was right. The mirror had, somehow, always been Kenzie’s; and now it would be a monument to her, an altar in her temple, a reflection of her staggering gold.

-------

“Anchaly, I need someone from maintenance to install this hook and chain in the bedroom ceiling tomorrow while Miss Stone and I are away,” Duncan said, coming up to the small man’s desk in the foyer of the high rise, setting the cloth bag carefully in front of him. “It’s for a chandelier. Oh, and I have a very large delivery arriving soon. Please allow them up into the penthouse. I’ll be at dinner with Mackenzie.”

Anchaly gave him a wry look, eyes dancing. “Of course, Mr. Shepherd. A chandelier. Lovely.” Duncan smiled at him in turn, not speaking; then, he turned and stepped to the elevators. Anchaly was very discreet, but the lobby had several other residents hanging around that afternoon--the last thing we need is someone to eavesdrop and blab to tabloids, I can just see the headline now: DUNCAN SHEPHERD AND MADELINE STONE INSTALL KINKY BONDAGE HOOK IN SEX DUNGEON. He snorted into his hand, unable to help himself, the elevator closing behind him; mercifully empty. He wondered, idly, what Kenzie’s dress looked like. With her by my side at the Gala, it’s going to be an incredibly memorable night, he thought. I hope they take a thousand pictures of her just to spite Mom. Everyone will see us together; no one will be able to deny anymore that Kenzie is meant to be in this world, that she shines brighter than anyone. That she’s a fucking goddess. Duncan came into the penthouse, tossing his sunglasses and wallet and phone onto the side-table by the front door, pressing a hand through his hair as he sat down at his Macbook on the low leather couch, fiddling with his Movado. The last of the work now; then just him and Kenzie for the rest of the night, and all of tomorrow.

-----

An hour or so later, Duncan stepped into to open space of Jack Rose’s Dining Saloon, a spacious whiskey bar with a truly impressive bar stretching the entire expanse of the space; wall to wall bottles of every shape and size, and the emphasis, of course, on whiskey. He thought of that first night again, a week ago (only a week?), when Kenzie’s little voice had said “Whiskey,” when he’d asked what she wanted from the bar and he’d gone hot and cold with the intensity of his desire for her, her fingers brushing against his when they clinked their Old Fashioneds together; when she’d agreed to go back to the penthouse with him, he thought he had to be dreaming. How has Fate smiled so on me. Duncan had often come here to have a drink alone; the bartenders knew him and most of the patrons left him alone (they were used to famous clientele), and they had the best whiskey selection in DC; his eyes scanned the long, open bar, searching for Kenzie’s telltale tawny hair or Claire’s short blonde shag. He spotted them towards the end, sitting in the high bar stools--Claire’s back was turned to him but he could see she was wearing a coral-colored summery wrap dress covered in blue, pink and gold catalina flower print, her legs crossed, a dry martini with two olives cradled in her hand, elbow resting on the back of the chair--and (my Kenzie) Kenzie was across from her, knees turned sideways in her seat towards Claire, the white stretch of her thighs visible between her mini skirt and long boots, and her hand was around a cocktail tumbler--a mint julep, from the sprigs of fresh mint he could pinpoint from this distance. Claire’s head was obscuring her face, but Duncan could see the angle of Kenzie’s chin was turned up to a man who stood a few inches from the backs of their chairs. The man was average, height-wise--shorter than me by a couple inches, I’d say, Duncan thought with a petty twinge of triumph--with shortly trimmed black hair and olive skin; he had a round, handsome, friendly face; he was physically fit and standing casually near Kenzie, a coiled, nervous energy in his stance, but with a measure of familiarity, as if they knew each other. He wore a white button-down with several of the buttons toward the top undone, exposing a measured stretch of skin along his neckline, and tailored slacks in navy blue with dark-colored plain-toe Oxford shoes. His hand was in one of his pockets, a pint glass half-full of dark beer in the other, and he was smiling at Kenzie as she spoke up at him, and something about the way he was smiling at her made a hot dagger of jealousy stab into Duncan’s temples.

Who is that.

Duncan pulled his sunglasses away from his eyes, shoving them into the dip of his short-sleeved Ferragamo shirt, pushing a hand along the side of his hair, stepping quickly to the corner where his girlfriend, her best friend, and this annoyingly charming person were huddled. Stop smiling at her, he thought at the man, a slight edge of embarrassment at the immediacy of his jealousy creeping into his mind. Something about the smile was full of warm affection; this man did know Kenzie, and this man cared about her, or else, he had cared about her--they hadn’t noticed Duncan yet and the man laughed a little at something Kenzie said...and the twinge of jealousy flared in Duncan again. He came up close enough to catch the man’s eye; they turned a little, eyes skirting between Kenzie and Duncan, expression softening with curiosity and wary recognition and vague enviousness, and Kenzie’s gaze fell on Duncan as the man stepped back a little, the small smile she’d been giving him widening as her bright hazel eyes fell into Duncan’s. Duncan’s heart twinged with immediate affection; Kenzie is so beautiful. Like a star with the rest of us orbiting around her.

“Hey baby,” Kenzie breathed, and she hopped down from the bar stool, pressing against him immediately. Duncan’s arms came around her and he couldn’t push away the possessive bloom of need that opened in him at the feeling of her hair against him and the smell of her skin and the soft incline of her lips and lashes from the bottom of his eyeline, and he leaned down to her and kissed her, open-mouthed; kiss me, Kenzie, kiss me, he thought, sheepishness at his inability to stay calm mixed in with his desirous abandon for her. She returned the deepness of his kiss for a moment and then pulled away, and he could see the blush on her cheeks at his neediness in front of the two pairs of eyes that watched them on either side; Claire with an expression of amusement (well, at least someone’s having fun, Duncan thought towards her) and the man with a skirting mixture of envious interest and awkwardness. “Hi baby,” he replied, breathless with the taste of her and the bitterness of his jealous rush. “Sorry I’m a little bit late, my car got stuck in the rush hour drift. Hey, Claire. You look lovely.”

Claire’s eyes drifted between the other man and Duncan, and she said “Hi, Duncan. Oh shucks, stop,” with a grin. She dipped the edge of her martini glass up to her mouth and took a long sip, as if to steel herself against the conversation she was about to witness. Kenzie looked between the two men for a moment and Duncan could see the blush in her cheeks deepen; she hopped back into her bar stool, facing him, clutching his arm for a moment, then held her hands out in short “ta-da” movement towards the dark-haired stranger. “Duncan, this is Tyler. Tyler Landau. Tyler--this is Duncan Shepherd.”

“Everyone knows who Duncan Shepherd is.” Tyler pulled the hand he’d had in his pocket out, holding it out to Duncan and giving him a small half-smile. Duncan grasped it, staring into the other man’s face for a moment; rather than feeling as though he disliked him, Duncan could immediately see a likability in Tyler, an affable evenness of temper. This is Kenzie’s ex, he knew in a rush, remembering the way they’d clutched each other in the shower as she told me about the man she used to love. This man. She loved him once. She lost her virginity to him. She used to kiss him, my Kenzie...she was tangled in his sheets for three years...

“Kenzie’s told me about you,” Duncan said. “A pediatrician, right?”

“Still in Residency, I’m afraid--3 years in. Not convinced it’s actually ever going to end.”

“Tyler’s here with some of his coworkers--it’s such a weird coincidence,” Kenzie murmured, her voice rushing with nervousness. She tucked a wave of hair behind her ear, pulling her mint julep up to her mouth, and Duncan felt a wave of affection for her. “He saw us come in from where they’re sitting over there and came over to say hi,” Kenzie gestured to a low table on the other end of the bar; Duncan glanced back and noticed a group of young professionals that all looked to be in their late 20’s, casual-dressy like Tyler, chatting amiably over cocktails and appetizers--a few of them met Duncan’s gaze with curious interest; he knew they recognized him. Duncan turned back. “DC feels oddly small that way sometimes,” he said. “Tyler, can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to--”

“I insist.”

He crooked a finger at the bartender, who was eyeing him knowingly--it was Murphy, the ginger-bearded head bartender, who Duncan knew of many a drunken evening. “Murphy, can I get two of the Four Roses single-barrel year-100? Two rocks for each.” “You got it, boss,” Murphy replied, briskly setting up two tulip-shaped whiskey glasses. “Nice to see ya, Duncan, it’s been a minute.” “Same to you, Murph.” Murphy passed Duncan the two glasses across the smooth marbled surface of the bar; Duncan handed him his Black AmEx, and turned with the glasses to hand one to Kenzie’s ex. You have to stay calm, he told himself. You can’t let your insecurities in. Kenzie’s with you now and she deserves your even temper. Imagine if it was Misha or Evan, and how strange you would feel.

“Thanks, man,” Tyler said, draining the rest of his beer and leaning on Kenzie’s opposite side (don’t touch her, the thought flashed through Duncan’s mind despite his attempts to quell it) to set the empty pint on the bar, reaching for the tulip glass Duncan held out. As he’d assumed from a distance, Duncan was a couple inches taller than Tyler; they had similar builds, though Tyler was vaguely stockier. “That wasn’t necessary, but I appreciate it. I don’t want to impose on your evening…”

Too late, Duncan thought. But now that you’re here, I’m fucking curious, I can’t help it.

“...it’s just been awhile since Kenzie and I saw each other, and I’dve felt weird about it if I didn’t come over to say hello.”

“Don’t apologize, I understand.” Duncan held out his glass. “Cheers.”

Tyler leaned out to clink his against the edge of Duncan’s; Kenzie and Claire made similar motions, and Duncan could see the tiny tremor in Kenzie’s hand. She’s freaking out. He swallowed a mouthful of the whiskey, savoring the warmth of it in his throat, and reached out a long hand to press it into Kenzie’s knee. She put her little fingers over the incline of his wrist, her eyes looking up into his, and he saw the trepidation hiding inside them. I don’t know if you can hear me right now baby, he thought, concentrating on the gold flecks swirling in her gaze, but if you can, be calm, okay? Everything’s okay. He seems nice. I can see why you were with him. I love you. Duncan saw Kenzie’s expression soften just a little, the stiff position of her shoulders smooth downwards. He was struck with the longing to press his fingers through her hair, touch the little star charms on her necklace; he moved closer to her, between her seat and Claire’s, his back to the bar, facing Tyler, and kept his hand there on her knee, taking another sip of the whiskey; it was flooding into his senses, and he felt his tongue loosen.

“So you and Kenzie dated for three years.”

Tyler’s eyes skirted between Duncan and Kenzie, hesitating. When Kenzie didn’t say anything, staring down into her mint julep, he replied. “Yeah, while we were at school. But it was just one of those things, huh, Kenz. There aren’t any hard feelings from me.”

“No, no--there aren’t from me either.” Kenzie’s gaze skirted between him and the her ex boyfriend (his eyes are as different from mine as one could conceive, Duncan thought, russet and warm), giving them both small smiles. Her fingers squeezed around Duncan’s hand, and he squeezed her in return, possessiveness clasping at his heart again, pushing guilt through his gut.

“I’ve seen some of the stuff about both of you in the news lately--I was pretty surprised to see Kenzie all over social media all of a sudden,” Tyler went on, shifting on his feet a little, “...how long have you two been seeing each other, anyway?”

Kenzie looked up into Duncan’s eyes as she replied. “A week.” But it feels like longer, doesn’t it, baby. It feels like we’ve always known each other. He felt her thought drift into him with a swirling, warm pressure. Yes, baby. It does.

“A week that’s felt like a month,” Claire interjected, “since twenty things have happened every day since. I can’t even believe how much I’m seeing Kenzie online now, it’s so surreal.”

“Yeah, actually, now that you mention it, Claire, I saw the two of you are a trending topic on Instagram and Twitter for, like, four days now,” Tyler said, grinning. “That must be weird for you, Kenz. Your mom always said you wanted attention until you got it, then you didn’t want it anymore.”

Duncan bristled at the familiarity of the words Madeline had spoken to him over their dinner at Busboys several days before. “Madeline’s a fucking delight,” he said, eager to be part of the conversation. I know her too, Doc. “We had dinner the other night and I was totally enamored with her.”

Kenzie looked up at him with a radiant smile bursting across her face; Duncan moved his hand from her knee to the small of her back under the slat at the back of the bar stool. Wildly, the thought of her hand clutched around his throat flashed through his mind; the way she’d straddled his lap in the BMW that night on the way back to the penthouse. You better do as I say. Duncan wondered with a flash of heat pulsing in the pit of his stomach if she’d ever commanded Tyler that way--if Tyler had melted in her hands. It wouldn’t matter who it was, he knew. Anyone would bow to her.

“Once, Madeline took Kenz and I to this weird Cirque du Soleil show in Vegas,” Tyler said, his expression the amused look of someone remembering a fond memory. “And she’d smoked some hash with us before--because it’s fucking Madeline--and then she started having a bad trip in the middle of it and started yelling about pink elephants everywhere, pink elephants staring at her with beady eyes, pink elephants with too many balloons and they made us leave--we were just standing on the sidewalk fucking howling by then, remember that, Kenz--”

Stop fucking calling her that, Duncan thought, an annoyed jab flashing through his mind again. Stop being so fucking familiar. Duncan looked down at Kenzie and noticed the amusement in her face, the giggle of remembrance around her mouth. The memory of her affection for him, he knew, and it made him ache. “Oh god,” she said, and he pressed his fingers into her a little, the ache spreading through his arm. “That day was insane. I forgot about that, I laughed so hard I fucking cried, we had to practically carry her back to the hotel.”

Duncan took another hard sip of the bourbon; it was heady and wildly heavy and it made his skull pound. He looked up at the man across from him again as she spoke--Tyler’s hand was back in his pocket, and Duncan noticed the way his dark eyes fell over Kenzie’s loveliness--the cascade of her gold hair, her little mouth grinning, her tongue slipping between her teeth, bringing her glass up to her mouth, her arm tucking under her little breasts in amusement, toying with the star necklace that dipped down there. He didn’t break up with you, Duncan realized, his heart twinging. You broke up with him. He still loves you, doesn’t he. Why wouldn’t he? Everyone loves you. I love you. I love you so much it fucking hurts.

“I need to order some fucking food,” Claire said, breaking up the amusement between Kenzie and Tyler, to Duncan’s relief. “Where did that bartender go?” Duncan turned, catching Murphy’s eye from down the bar, waving a little; Murphy came back, cocking his head towards them. “Oh, thank god,” Claire murmured. “The perks of having the famous person in your crew. Can we get the shared supper plate, please?”

“Oh, oh, I want the chicken skins too, please,” Kenzie said excitedly, and Duncan noticed she’d drained her mint julep out of nervousness; “And two more of these,” he said, pointing to Kenzie and Claire’s empty glasses. Murphy nodded, grinning; Duncan understood why, both Kenzie and Claire were lovely, their energy warm and infectious; but Kenzie’s glow was iridescent, intoxicating, throwing her brightness around this corner, pulling the eyes of the room in. Tyler watched her with eyes that couldn’t seem to hide their longing--and Duncan felt another twinge of intense jealousy towards the man who had first known her bed, who had gotten to spend so many days with her, who had a wealth of memories with her that Duncan, no matter how many memories he would build atop them, would never be privy to.

“Well, I think it’s time for me to go back to my table,” Tyler said, as if he sensed the roiling shadow of Duncan’s thoughts. “Kenzie...I wish you the best in everything, always. Duncan, thank you for the drink, I really appreciate it. Claire, it was nice to see you again.” Tyler leaned forward over Kenzie’s little face, and before she could react, he kissed her cheek quickly, eyes closing--then he lifted away from her and nodded a little at Duncan, staring at him evenly. Then he drained the last of the whiskey from the tulip glass and set it carefully on the bar, giving the three of them a little wave, and turned back to his table where his coworkers beckoned to him. Duncan watched his back retreat for a moment before turning his face down to Kenzie, who stared up at him with the same expression of concern; he leaned his mouth down to her, hand at the back of her hair, and pressed her into him, needy with relief that the other man had gone away, unable to stop the onslaught of emotion that washed over him now.

“Well, that was fun,” Claire said to them, staring innocently up at the hundreds of bottles lined along the bar, pointedly away from their passionate kiss that continued to extend. Duncan didn’t care. He’d waited all day to kiss her and then her fucking ex boyfriend had appeared and he was starving for her now.

“Baby,” Duncan whispered down into Kenzie’s ear as his mouth fell away from hers. “I missed you so fucking much today. Wait until you see it. Just wait. It’s the most beautiful--”

“Oh, Duncan,” she whispered back into him, her hands coming around his face. “Dunny, I missed you too, baby, I’m so sorry about that, I never expected him to be here--”

“Shhh, it’s fine,” Duncan kissed her again, with shuddering softness this time. “It doesn’t matter--”

“Excuse me, Prince Duncan and Princess Kenzie, but y’all are making me clutch my pearls right now,” Claire interrupted them as Murphy brought them fresh drinks, a waiter close behind with the tray of charcuterie Claire had ordered for them; Kenzie’s chicken skins in their other hand. “Can’t wait for some photos of this moment on BPF tomorrow, I’ll make sure to send them to you as your official press secretary, Kenzie.”

Kenzie gave her friend a shy gaze but clapped a little, delighted, at the food. “Oh my god, I’m so fucking hungry, I forgot to eat all day between fighting with Annette and trying to figure out the dress. Oh baby, wait till you see it--it’s going to be so wonderful--”

Duncan smiled down at her, sliding into the seat on her left, the tide of his relief riding over him with the richness of the aged whiskey he’d just drank, reaching out to the charcuterie and plucking an olive from one of the little bowls, slipping it into his mouth. He pushed his hand through the wave of her hair, skin tingling from the contact with her he’d longed for and had had to postpone. “And wait ‘till you see this mirror, baby--”

“Mirror?” Claire was eavesdropping, her eyes dancing, reaching for crackers and slivers of aged cheddar on the big plate, sipping at her second martini. “What mirror?”

“Duncan found this amazing mirror today for the penthouse--” Kenzie opened her phone and showed Claire the photo Duncan had sent her earlier. Claire goggled at it, her mouth falling open. “Holy shit, that’s incredible. All the gold, like, how big is that thing, wow, that’s fucking extravagant.” She gave Kenzie a coy look. “Wonder what you’ll do with that, hmmmm.” Duncan slipped a hand over his mouth, trying to hide his grin, but he knew Claire saw; she wiggled her eyebrows at them, mock-seductive. “Your own personal movie theater, huh?” Kenzie blushed, biting the nail of her index finger as Claire giggled at her, and Duncan was struck with the desire to pull her against him, cradle her in his arms with protective need. “Oh, by the way, Duncan, I rode in the BMW with Kenzie over here and Samuel is a fucking dream, I wanna marry him now.”

“He’s single,” Duncan said, only half-jokingly. “Somehow, impossibly.”

“He doesn’t have time to date when he’s carting your ass around all the time,” Claire retorted, and Duncan laughed a little. “Touche. He needs more vacation time.” Duncan’s eyes fell over Kenzie devouring one of the chicken skins clutched between two fingers in her little hand, then skirted behind her to where Tyler sat on the other side of the restaurant with his table of pediatric co-residents. Duncan could see the other man’s dark eyes falling back over to where they sat the end of the bar; especially over Kenzie’s gold hair, the incline of her back. Duncan brought his hand into her lap again, riding high up on her thigh; Kenzie giggled a little, swallowing; “Baby, that tickles.” She brought her lips up against his, wiping her hands carefully on her napkin before she pressed her fingers against his jaw on either side, pulling him against her. “I love you,” she whispered into his mouth, and he closed his eyes, smelling the sweetness of her perfume and the grease and the whiskey and mint on her lips, loving the scent of her and the texture. She loves me, Duncan thought with relief. How am I so lucky? She loves me, I love her, loves me, I love her, she loves me...

--------

They’d driven Claire back to her Dupont Circle apartment, about a fifteen minute walk from where Kenzie used to live. Claire was quite tipsy and Duncan had carefully helped her to her door, her arm threaded through his to keep from falling; she’d sat in the front seat with Samuel, the partition open so they could all talk together, and Duncan could tell his driver was quite taken with her; you say you wanna marry Samuel, but I think he wants to marry you, Duncan thought, watching his chauffeur and Kenzie’s best friend flirt, his hand in Kenzie’s lap. She was gazing at him with a contented, quiet look in her eyes; waiting for us to be alone, me too, baby, he thought towards her. Claire had hugged his neck (as was her way) as he deposited her at the door of her apartment; “I know you saw what I saw,” she said, leaning down to his face conspiratorially, her words slurring a little with all the gin from her martini having settled in, the sharp scent of it in his nose. “And I always suuuspected their break-up was one-sided. Tyler was giving her googly eyes, big ones. But here’s the thing, Duncan--she issin love with you. Like, I have never seen her SO happy in my whole LIFE, and I’ve known her since she was fucking up volleyball serves in high school. You’re gonna marry her. I know it.”

“Goodnight, Claire,” Duncan let go of her gently, smiling at her and nodding, and Claire stood there dazed for a moment, lost in the drift of the alcohol, then she gave him a little salute, like she was a private saluting a sergeant, and twisted the doorknob, falling inside. Duncan tried to shake the whiskey out of his head, too, the cool evening air helping a little as he walked back to the BMW; he slid back into the backseat, noticing Kenzie was already pushing the partition button, allowing them privacy from Samuel, the last obstruction to their solitude.

“Baby, I--you know I had no idea Tyler would be there--” she said in a rush, but he broke her off gently.

“Kenzie, of course. I know.”

“I could hear--I could hear you. The intensity of your thoughts. It was all around me. Like a ring of fire.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I tried to push it away, tried to bury it--”

“No...I sort of...I liked it.” Kenzie’s face came close, hovering under his chin; her mouth open, anticipating. Tonight Nat King Cole’s rich voice floated from the speakers, somewhere in the background of the golden sphere of her little body, finally so close to him: you’ll never know how slow the moments go...till I’m near to you...I see your face...in every flower...your eyes in stars above…Her eyes stared up into his (flecks of gold, bronze, dark sunset in a forest), her voice low and sweet, her breath shallow, and her other hand was falling down his chest to hover along his stomach and then at his hip, just above his crotch, the tips of her fingers brushing him with aching hesitation. “I...I liked that you were so jealous. I liked that you needed me so much, want me so much...like you were going to burst into a bonfire. Like you couldn’t bear it...like...when you wondered if I’d touched him that way--” It’s just the thought of you, the very thought of you...my love...

“Kenzie,” he breathed into her. “Touch me. Please, baby.”

She reached up so her hands fell on his jaw and in his hair, and he was pulling her against him, hands harshly clasped on her hips as the BMW drove the short distance back to the penthouse, falling into her in the dark.

“He still loves you,” he spoke between their kisses, gasping, his hands falling down the velvety feeling of her boots and back up to the bareness of her thigh, the curve of her hip and the tiny dip of her waist, his eyes shut, unable to bear the sight of her for fear she would shake his soul again with her loveliness, her otherworldliness, the taste of her enough to drive him into a state of mad emotion, threatening to make him unable to speak, the scent of her falling down into his senses, filling him up, sucking his breath away. “I could tell by the way he looked at you, baby. He wished he could go back to when you were his. I could see it.”

“Duncan, it doesn’t matter. I only love you.”

He sighed into her; Duncan felt tears prick at his eyes. Her mouth was so soft in the dark it was like the delicate petals of a flower under his lips, and his heart was swollen with the sounds she made, her tiny moans under his hands, the hum of her breathing in his ears in the shadows; he longed to breathe something into her, an admonition of passion and adoration so sincere, so entire, that it would dispel all doubt from her mind for as long as they lived--he wanted her to know the depth of his love would never fade, that he would worship her until the stars faded from the heavens and the sun burned away into darkness, but how could he? How could he find words? “I love you,” was all he could whisper, his mouth on her chin and the incline of her throat, “I love you, I love you, Kenzie--”.

The partition floated down and they broke apart, achingly, reluctantly, and he could see Kenzie’s little frame shivering with the intensity of her breathing in the dark; they hadn’t noticed the BMW had pulled up to the high-rise and had been idling, quietly, for several minutes.

“We’re home, Mr. Shepherd, Miss Stone,” Samuel said quietly, his eyes skirting over their dishelvement, their harsh breathing. Ushering us on to the quiet solitude of our bed, Duncan thought with a warm, vague knowledge. He nodded at the other man. “Thank you, Samuel. We’re taking the jet to Yarmouth tomorrow, can you pick us up around 9?”

“Very good, Mr. Shepherd. Miss Mackenzie, it was a pleasure to drive you today. Anytime you want to listen to Stevie, you let me know.”

Kenzie’s little smile broke over her cheeks in the shadows; “Thank you, Samuel. It was wonderful to spend time with you today.” Duncan opened the door and slid out, reaching down for her hand, anxious for her touch again. She slipped her small fingers between his, the sound of her boots on the sidewalk clicking in his ears, the soft lights of the street lamps falling over her small frame. He pulled her gently with him, wishing in that moment that he could snap his fingers and they’d suddenly appear in the bedroom, where he knew that vast, quiet, gold monument to her was waiting. Jerry pulled the door open, nodding to them without speaking; Anchaly was away from his desk at the moment, and Duncan silently thanked the Fates (Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos)--every interaction with anyone else was a distraction from his desire to show her what he’d found for her today, the thing he’d found that was already hers. In the elevator Kenzie let go of his hand and stepped to the opposite side, and they stood there across from each other, staring, the elevator’s mirror reflecting their profiles from the corner of Duncan’s eye--Kenzie leaned her ass against the smooth gold wall, parting her legs a little, bringing her hands into the dip of her crotch, not moving her eyes away from his face. Duncan’s hands gripped the rail behind him, the tension in his body rising, his need to feel her again making him dizzy.

“How was your day today, baby?” he said quietly.

“It was...long. Good. Sort of. Your mom--god, she hates me.”

Duncan bit his lip as the elevator climbed, his eyes on the flushed shimmer of her cheeks; 22, 23, 24. “We’re going to work on it, okay? We’re going to make her see.”

Kenzie nodded at him, a tiny smile at the corners of her mouth. “My dress, baby. Just wait. And Erik was lovely.” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear; his heart shuddered.

“Mmhmm, he is. I can’t wait to see it, baby.” The elevator dinged, the doors sliding apart. Duncan reached for her but Kenzie--ugh, she’s so good at that, it makes me insane--slid away from him, looking at him back over her shoulder as she walked ahead of him to the penthouse door, her little teeth shining out of her mouth at him, a glint in her eyes. “Come here,” he said, needy.

“Come get me,” she replied, slipping her keycard into the slot by the door; it beeped and she swung it open, disappearing inside. Duncan groaned softly; fuck baby, I will. He fumbled with his wallet, snatching out his own key, hurriedly jamming it into the slot and yanking the door open; Kenzie had already kicked her boots off and was trotting around the corner in her little bare feet, towards the bedroom, hair shimmering. The penthouse was cool and quiet with evening; the diamond-drop chandelier reflecting the low lamps in the living room, his eyes skirting over her succulents along the sink, and he could see one of the little lamps in the bedroom had been switched on--as he followed Kenzie, kicking his own shoes off, he heard her gasp as she stopped dead, facing the wall that was obscured from this angle by the doorway. He stepped through, seeing her hands come up to her cheeks, her mouth snap shut, her eyes grow wide. He glanced to where she stared--there it was, this silent speculum of time, its carvings dipping softly in the shadows, vines, fruits and flowers, its clear reflection of them snatching his breath as he stepped up beside her. Duncan marveled for a moment at the difference in their heights--her little golden head only reaching to just below the bend of his shoulders, his hands obscuring her under his touch as he reached for her--and yet, he thought, your greatness astounds me, beloved. Your wonders are confounding to me, your secrets endless and each one more precious than any riches. She continued to stare at their reflection as his arms came around her from behind, pressing his stomach gently into her back, fingers falling around the dip of her elbows, tightening, desirous, his face falling into the crook of her neck, his eyes looking up into hers through the mondo glass that stretched before them. He shivered a little at his own gaze--a blue fire raging in the center of him, every ember of it for her, reflecting outwards.

“Duncan, this…” He felt her shudder violently under his hands, and he moved his fingers down to cup around her breasts, clutching her, longing to soothe the shaking in her limbs, pressing soft kisses against her ear.

“It’s yours, isn’t it. It belongs to you.”

Kenzie’s eyes grew clouded as he said it, puzzled, but acknowledging, lost in the confusion of her sudden knowledge that he was right.

“It’s...I know it from somewhere. Like it used to be mine. How can that be, baby? How can this be mine?”

“I don’t know, Kenzie. But I knew it too, when I saw it. I knew it was yours. I knew it was yours...I don’t fucking know, baby, in another life. I knew it.” He turned her into him, aching for her mouth--she pressed into him, impossibly small and soft and delicate, smelling of roses and the gathering desire on her skin--and Duncan’s hands pushed under the fabric of her shirt, his fingers trailing along the soft skin at her spine, the rise of her ribs.

“I feel like I’ve looked into it before.”

“I know. I do, too. I don’t know how that’s possible. When I looked into it--” Duncan moaned into her as she pushed her hand into the waistband of his clothes, her fingers sliding down to grasp at the shaft of his cock, growing hard and pressing into the fabric, straining. “--it felt like I’d looked into it before.”

“I need you, Dunny.”

“Kenzie, angel--”

“Stare at me in this mirror and fuck me. Do it, right now.”

Duncan couldn’t stop the burst of lust, like the unexpected, painful dusting of an electric current, that danced across his mind as her command fell into his ears. Yes, goddess. He gripped her arms harshly, pulling her neck roughly into his mouth, biting down on the sensitive skin there--Kenzie cried out, quickening the heat in his groin, and Duncan brought his thumb into her mouth, which had opened for him, pressing it into her little tongue forcefully. Her eyes fluttered and she sucked; “Yes, angel,” he murmured, “Suck.” He used his other hand to push at the mini skirt around her waist, yanking it down from her hips where it pooled around her ankles, exposing the silkiness of her dark underwear. Kenzie stepped out of the skirt, parting her legs against him; he slipped his hand into the waistband of her panties and pressed his fingers, demanding, into her sex, and she arched into him, moaning into his thumb still pressed to her tongue, the vibration of her throat sending lightning bolts of sensation through his body. He moved his hand out of her panties and his finger from her mouth and stepped back, willing himself with every ounce of resolve he had, and she whimpered, leaning into the emptiness where his hands had been and his heart ached terribly.

“Baby,” he breathed, reaching up to work at the buttons of his shirt, “Take off your clothes. I’ll watch you, you watch me.”

Kenzie nodded, lifting the hem of the collared shirt over her head, tossing her starry necklace on the floor, her hair falling over her bare shoulders as she let the shirt drop after it; Duncan finished the buttons of his own shirt and let it fall, fingers fumbling at his belt buckle as he watched her unhook the back of the little bra she wore, exposing her breasts, covered in the goosebumps of her arousal, and her little fingers slipped down to slide the waistband of her panties off, stepping out of them, and suddenly, she was naked in front of him, her eyes shining with anticipation of the return of his touch. Duncan watched her eyes watch him push his pants and briefs down, exposing his cock, now hard with his arousal, then her gaze slid up into his and he paused at the demand inside them. Fuck me. I command you.

He pushed into her roughly; pushed her back, her tiny body sliding against him with wild lightness; pushed her until her back and her ass fell against the cold, smooth surface of the mirror, pressed her against it, their mouths crushed together, tongues entwining, his fingers brushing up into her cunt, hard, insistent, her little fingers gripping his cock, pulling him against her, and then Duncan lifted his hand to her throat and gripped her there, turning her cheek so his mouth pressed into her ear roughly, and he said “I’m gonna fuck you now, baby, so turn around and put your hands on the mirror.”

“Uh huh, baby, yes,” Kenzie whimpered, and he loosened the harsh grip of his fingers so she turned her body toward the mirror, pressing the palms of her hands into the smooth glass, leaning so her ass lifted towards his groin, her hair falling down over her shoulders and back, lifting her gaze to stare at him in the reflection. Duncan returned her gaze in the mirror as he gathered her hair in his fist, twisting it once around his hand, drunk with the reflection of their bodies hovering together, and her head jerked back a little, a moan falling from her little mouth, her eyes fluttering. “Unng, baby, yes,” she mewled, lifting her hips back towards his erection, and he was struck with another hot wave of need at the sound she had made, wanton and supplicant to him. Then, he pushed his cock, hard and sudden, down into her, and she let out a cry that shook hot drops of avid thirst down his spine. Duncan pulled harshly at her hair (your beautiful hair, your golden hair baby, in my fist, all mine) and plunged in and out of her warmth, and Kenzie cried out again and again, his moans falling into her--her eyes closed and Duncan jerked her head back a little, demanding. “Look at me, Kenzie.” Her eyes snapped open to him; the green hue was deeply present, shining out at him, ethereal and haunting. “That’s right. Look at me.”

“Uhh, baby,” she moaned, and he slipped his palm under her chin and brought her head back and kissed her, hard, his lips bruising into hers, his fist still around her hair, his cock buried in her; then he looked up at the reflection of her, tip-toed, mouth open, eyes turned up to him, breasts shivering, palms flat on the mirrored glass, her body bent into him. “Down, baby,” he said, letting go of her hair to carefully ease her onto her knees with him by her hips, her hands sliding slowly down the mirror’s surface until both of them were kneeling in front of it. He pulled back on her hips, moving slow, still buried inside her, and Kenzie’s hands fell to the floor, to the dark wood between the rug and the edge of the mirror. Duncan brought his hand up around her neck again, looking into her eyes in the mirror; “I love holding you here,” he murmured to her, fingers clenching on her throat, and rebounded his efforts at pounding his length into the warm dip of her cunt, pressing her legs outward, demandingly, with his thighs until she was trembling, prostrate, spread, her tiny body crushed into his and totally at his mercy, her mouth trembling up at him in the glass, her cheeks flushed with need. Duncan slipped his index and middle fingers deep into his mouth, slicking them with spit, then pressed them down into her ass, working them harshly back and forth as he fucked her, his concentration smooth and unbroken and utterly demanding of her; Kenzie spasmed and her mouth widened and her eyes rolled back into her head, and a long bead of drool ran from the corner of her mouth, glittering in the reflection, her senses abandoned in the forceful movement of his fingers inside her.

“Look at us,” Duncan commanded her, and Kenzie’s eyes widened from her desirous haze as he continued to work at her cunt with his cock (so hard, I’m so fucking hard baby, so hard for you, filling you up like this, god you feel good, like I’m meant to be inside you always) and her tight asshole with his long fingers, her shivering body totally at his beholden to him, supple under his insistence, “look at us fuck, baby, watch me fuck you like this--”

“Duncan, unnngh,” Kenzie murmured, “I want you to fuck my ass, baby,” and Duncan’s eyes rolled back at that, rolled back with the rocking burst of fervor her words kindled in him. He could see the glistening trail at her chin where she’d drooled and he wanted to reach out and wipe it away, but didn’t; a secret gift for him, her supplication, her abandon for him.

He pulled out of her and she whined, piteously. “Stay there. Do not move, angel,” he said, and Kenzie froze, eyes staring into him from her reflection. He pushed himself up, his achingly hard erection illuminated in the mirror’s watchful, long eye, and went into the bathroom where he knew Kenzie’s jar of coconut oil was sitting on the counter beside the squarish shape of her perfume. He eased a hand along his cock as he did, slick with the wet of the inside of her vulva, concentrating on it, bringing the jar back out with him to where he saw her still kneeling obediently in front of the mirror, her ass shivering almost imperceptibly from the memory of him pounding against her a moment before, the memory of his fingers, her legs still achingly spread. He stood there over her for a moment, gazing into her eyes in the mirror’s reflection again; this fucking mirror is something extraordinary, he thought, where did it even come from, and it’s going to be in our room always now, fuck, it’ll make me hard every time I look at it, seeing you in it makes me want to die in your eyes, baby, and Kenzie was nodding at him, her mouth open again; she’d heard him. “Yes, baby, yes,” Kenzie said, “Yes, it makes me so fucking wet for you, baby, fuck me again. Fuck me. Do as I say.”

He knelt again, obediently, unscrewing the lid on the oil, plunging his fingers into it and rubbing his hands together; the feeling of it was achingly cool and slippery, the bittersweet smell of it drifting into his nose, and he slathered it along his length so his cock shone in the low light; then he rewet his hands with more of it, rubbing it harshly into the lining of Kenzie’s vulva, up into her ass again as he pressed his fingers into her until she was soaking wet with it and glistening under his hand, and she bucked back into his touch, moaning again, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head, her fingernails scraping along the dark wood in front of her, the dark green and gold of her eyes staring into his of blue fire embers. Beloved.

‘Fuck my ass, baby,” she said, letting her little mouth hang open as the words fell from her lips, and in her eyes he saw both the command and the subservience of her desire; saw that she demanded it of him, but also saw her acquiescence; her complete adoration, the adjuration of her love, and the fire of her need to bring him pleasure. I would do anything she told me to do, I would die for her or kill for her, but she would do anything for me, too, she will prostrate herself to me, and be happy to do it, and command me to command her and will obey me when she wants to because it gives her pleasure to do it, and I will obey her in all things, command her to her liking and for her joy, and he knew this utterly.

Duncan let his cock hover over the tight pucker of her ass for a moment more, pulling his fingers out, and they shivered against each other, eyes locked, their thoughts cascading against each other: My Persephone, give yourself to me, your Hades, give me your flowers and your heart and your body and your soul, and I am lost to you forever, for all of time, I am yours now and always, yours alone, I am lost in you, I am yours, body and soul. Then he pushed into her, shockwaves coursing through him at her tightness around his length and they both moaned, overcome with it. Kenzie whimpered with the combined adulation of intense pleasure and low pain, moving her hips under his hands, pushing him further in, almost subconsciously; wanting more from him; wanting him to fuck her deeper, immediately. Duncan moved into her, carefully; he looked up to see both their mouths hung open, lost in the sensation of him inside her this way, their eyes glossy with yearning. “I’m gonna fuck you harder now, angel,” he heard his voice say, low with promise, and Kenzie nodded and let out a little sound that was some combination of a sigh and a moan, words beyond her in this moment. He moved his hips, building up a stronger rhythm-- and he saw Kenzie’s tongue loll out of her mouth as he did, her senses overcome, saw a line of moisture drip down from her vulva onto the carpet in the mirror’s reflection where her cunt pulsed, empty of him but still hungry and building on its desirous need with the wild sensation of his long, aching hardness burying itself in her tight asshole, spreading her to the breaking point.

“Unnng, baby, you’re so big,” she whimpered, and he eased his hands down her back, his fingers coming over her hip to rub into her soaking clit, his other hand coming up to clutch the back of her head, golden hairs tangled in his fingers. “You’re so fucking big, baby, you’re filling me up to the edge, I can’t--I can’t--” She bucked into him again, his cock sliding down into her ass almost to the shaft, and Duncan wondered how long he could hold on, not very fucking long, baby, I don’t think I can, and saw his tongue flick out and lick his lips as she watched him, his need for her overwhelming.

“Kenzie, baby, you’re so tight, angel, you feel so fucking amazing, your little ass around my cock like this, fuck--”

“Go on, baby, fuck me good,” Kenzie smiled a little at that, her head turned up to him, and Duncan was struck with her beauty again, the gold coil of his orgasm falling down through his body bit by bit, struck with the intensity of his love for her, struck by her nature, her spirit, so staggeringly exquisite. “Fuck me good and make me come for you, I’m so close and I wanna come while I stare into your eyes in this gorgeous fucking mirror, baby--” and his fingers pressed down with more insistence into her clit, adoring the sound of her voice, his hair falling over his forehead in his reflection, a moan escaping his lips, his throat bobbing in need, then Kenzie was crying out and shaking violently into him, overcome with his length buried in the wild sensitivity of her ass, her orgasm swooping down onto them like an unseen predator, its hungry jaws closing around her and he held her under a strong, careful grip and watched another long line of moisture drip down from her shivering cunt to the carpet from her reflection in the mirror, her release falling, her voice bleeding into a shriek tinged with a sob as she lost herself in the intensity of her climax, and Duncan felt his eyes roll back as his orgasm rushed forward--”I’m gonna come, Kenzie--is it okay--” and Kenzie was murmuring “Yes, baby, fucking yes, come in my ass, Duncan, baby--” and he did, the heat of it bursting out of him into the wetness of her in a stream he could feel with sharp, scalding clarity, all his need and desire pouring out of him into her, his shudders long and low and prickling along his mind with insane euphoria, and inside the intensity of the orgasm was a darkly powerful energy that was rare--it seemed to coax every droplet out of him, burying itself inside her, needy to belong to her, desperate to be a part of her. All this time they stared at each other; Kenzie’s eyes full of whirling drops of gold, his strangely bright, lit from behind with a blue brazier, and Duncan felt again that he could see the gold ring of her halo, see the delicate outline of her soul, her nature, her spirit, so brilliant and so beautiful and so erotic and heavy in his hands that he felt faint with its weight. Their orgasms drifted out into quietness--their bodies heaved into each other, then shivered into long, overwhelmed breaths, then shuddered down into small, even sighs, and all that time, he stared into his Kenzie, and she stared back into him, the mirror like a bridge between the deepest parts of both of them, like a window into who they were in another world, a divine world full of unspeakable beauty, a place where they were together, also, and exalted in delights far beyond those of earth.

Then the spell seemed to dissipate, and Duncan and Kenzie fell back to solid ground, back into themselves; Duncan crashed back into his own psyche, and he eased himself out of her, wincing a little at how sensitive his cock felt now, wincing at the redness he’d left on her skin; turned her carefully, with terrible gentleness, laying her down, easing himself onto the rug beside her, propping himself up with one long arm as his hand fell along her cheek and her head lay down against the carpet, eyes staring up at him, languid, hazy, her little arms tucked into her stomach, hands falling down between her legs to probe gently at the ache of his worship. Duncan brought his trembling mouth down to her nipple and sucked at it, just for a moment, hand on her hip; then he moved back to gaze at her again. “Kenzie, are you okay?”

She sighed, and her smile sent bursts of gold dust around his heart. “Oh, Duncan. Yes. I feel so good, baby. I could die right here, I feel so fucking good.”

His own smile fell against the shape of her. “Take a shower with me, okay, baby?” he pleaded. Kenzie nodded, sighing again, and Duncan paused for a moment, then pushed himself up, gripping her gently under her arms, lifting her as if she were just a doll; Kenzie weakly brought herself up into his grasp on the balls of her feet, and Duncan steadied her as she stood, wobbly, against him, her tiny body folded into his arms as he pressed kisses into her forehead against her hairline, into the sweet scent of her hair.

In the shower Duncan pressed his hands softly into her, sponging sweet-smelling jasmine soap down her back, soothing the ache of him from her body, his face pressed into the soaking fall of her hair, pushing it gently aside with worshipping hands, rubbing softly at her neck, between her shoulder blades. Kenzie was quiet, and Duncan knew she didn’t want to speak right now, innately; her mind was full of dazzling bursts of gold light, and it was all he could see of her in this moment, and he felt her joy, the effervescence of her happiness, the intensity of her affection, overwhelming her. “I can’t wait to hold you on the beach all day tomorrow, baby,” he whispered into her ear, bringing the soft sponge around to the front of her body, pressing it first with aching gentleness down between her legs and then around his cock, now limp with release, and Kenzie sighed into his neck and nodded, still not saying anything, but Duncan knew she felt the same way, felt her gold emotions pressing into his skin, blessing him.

As they folded against each other (naked tonight, damp hair against the black pillows, her arms tucked into his chest, their feet touching, in their bed) Duncan felt himself drift away almost immediately in sleep, the darkness falling all around them, and he knew Kenzie was drifting away too, could feel the soft settling of her body against him, the sweet smell of her skin filling his senses, only the moon’s waxing eye falling down on them--and he didn’t know it, but that night both he and Kenzie dreamed about being together in that other place, that place of exalted delights far beyond those of earth, though in the morning, neither of them remembered.

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pikapeppa · 5 years

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Piper Lavellan: Luck of the Law

@schoute and I have been obsessed with our modern bartender AU for WEEKS, and I now have the pleasure of introducing the first chapter of a Piper Lavellan/Cullen fic set in the same world!

`This little prologue is the tale of how Piper came to be in Kirkwall. Art is by @schoute. Read here on AO3.

For @dadrunkwriting Friday.

Piper stared blearily at the swirling blood in the sink.

Another drop of blood joined the sanguine vortex as it spiralled down the drain. Piper pressed the damp paper towel to the bloody mess of her eyebrow and lifted her gaze to the mirror.

Fucking perfect, she thought. The gash that bisected her left eyebrow was a nice counterpoint to the cut that split the right side of her lip. And then there was the bloody nose, which was nicely complemented by the dark circles under her eyes.

She heaved a sigh and leaned heavily against the sink. How could she have been so naive? She stared intently at her reflection until she’d memorized every bloody bruise.

Well, I won’t be making this fucking mistake again, she thought bitterly. Her now-marred face would be a good reminder of this.

*******************

The problem was that it had all started so well. Piper had met Maara, Duncan, and Peronn a few months ago at an underground show in Ansburg that she’d heard about in her travels, and they’d immediately hit it off. Making friends at shows was always easy, music being the great unifier, but there had been something especially inviting about these three.

Especially about Peronn. He was the definition of charm from the moment they bumped into each other at the bar.

He leaned in close and pressed his arm against hers. “What’s a nice place like you doing in a girl like this?” he yelled over the music.

She smirked at him. “Did you seriously just quote Deadpool at me?”

He raised his eyebrows appreciatively and leaned his elbow on the bar. “A girl who knows Deadpool well enough to recognize quotes. I knew I liked you.”

A warm feeling bloomed in her belly, and Piper laughed and dropped her eyes. This guy was handsome, and it had been a while since her last one-night stand.

She coyly lifted her gaze back to his face. “So. What other lines have you got for me?” she asked.

He gave her a roguish half-smile. “Lines? Me? I would never. But you’ve got some nice lines.” He reached out and ran his thumb along her tattooed cheekbone. “I like your vallaslin,” he shouted.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Are you Dalish?” she asked. She’d assumed he wasn’t, since his elven face was bare.

Sure enough, he shook his head. “Nah. City-bred and born. But my gran was Dalish. Is Dalish, I guess. But you wear your blood writing better than her.”

Piper wrinkled her nose. “Did you just compliment me and insult your gran in the same breath?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “All right, you’ve got me. Let me buy you a drink to make up for it.”

Piper giggled, then pushed back the mass of her silvery hair. “All right. I never say no to a drink.”

And she didn’t, not for the rest of the night. Peronn eventually led her back to the table he was sharing with Maara and her boyfriend Duncan, and he kept the drinks flowing all night, gallantly ignoring Piper’s pleading attempts to pay him back.

At some point during the night, Piper became relaxed enough to give up the attempts. “Ahh, I should just thank you and shut the fuck up,” she yelled to Peronn as she leaned into his shoulder. “I’m trying to save up for a bike. Haven’t really got the money to spare for drinks anyway.”

“A bike?” Maara asked. “Like… a bicycle-bike? Because those are super easy to jack, you know.”

Duncan tsked and pinched her arm, and Piper snorted with laughter. “No no, a motorcycle. A Kawasaki ZX-10R, to be exact.” She sighed dreamily as Peronn slid his arm around her waist. “I’ve almost got enough money for it. I just need a couple thousand more. I’d rather have a bike than a place to live, you know? Rent is the worst. It’s like throwing your money in the garbage. Give me a bike and I’ll make my home anywhere.”

“Wait,” Peronn yelled. “You don’t have a place to stay?”

Piper shook her head. “I’m a nomad,” she yelled back. “I float along on the wind. I’m like a dandelion seed.” She sipped her whiskey. In truth, the couchsurfing lifestyle was starting to wear on her. She’d loved it at first, when she’d first left her clan after her father had died. Back when she’d wanted nothing more than to be alone and away from the whole Dalish respect-the-gods bullshit. But… well, being alone all the time and spending every night in a different place was maybe a little bit more overrated than Piper was letting on.

“Stay with us!” Maara said.

Piper looked up from her drink. “What?”

Maara’s pretty face was open and friendly. “You can stay with us,” she repeated. “We’ve got a really comfortable couch.”

“Or a really comfortable futon, if you don’t mind… sharing,” Peronn added.

Piper looked at him. His smile was broad and his baby-blue eyes were warm, and a little leap of anticipation hopped in her belly.

She looked at Maara again. “Are you sure? I mean, you don’t even know me…” Her gaze flicked over to Duncan. He was frowning slightly, and the last thing Piper wanted was to be an imposition.

“We’re sure,” Maara said. She looked up at Duncan. “Right, D?”

Duncan shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “Of course.” He glanced at Peronn.

Peronn ran his hand along Piper’s back. “Good,” he said. Then he leaned in close to her ear. “Want another drink? Or would you rather go home?”

She shivered happily at the brush of his lips, and at the word home. It had been so long since she felt like she’d had one. Not that she was assuming Peronn’s apartment would become her home or anything. “Whatever you want,” she shouted.

Peronn smiled, and Piper felt it against her skin. Then he straightened and held out his hand. “Come on, Pip,” he yelled. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

As it turned out, the grand tour started and ended with Peronn’s futon - not that Piper was at all upset about this. The surprising part was that the whole arrangement ended up lasting longer than the one night. To Piper’s intense gratitude, Peronn and the others insisted she stay with them rent-free for as long as she wanted to, and Piper didn’t have enough pride to say no. After all, who was she to turn down a place to stay, and friends who were so kind as to invite her to stay indefinitely?

After over a year of making her own solitary way across the continent, Piper was enjoying the novelty of settling into a steady routine. What had started as a casual crash with friends had become a real home - the first she’d had since leaving her clan. And what had started as a casual hook-up had turned into a real relationship: the first she’d ever really had.

The living arrangements weren’t perfect; Maara and Duncan and Peronn had few belongings beyond their laptops and their basic furniture, so it wasn’t the coziest of apartments. Furthermore, Peronn’s futon was hilariously lumpy, and it took Piper threatening to buy him a bed before he finally stepped up and bought one for himself - a second-hand one, to be sure, but a bed was a bed, and they made very good use of it.

The constant trickle of visitors that Peronn and Maara and Duncan got was strange as well. All kinds of people traipsed in and out at all hours of the day and night. They never seemed to stay for more than a drink or a chat, and though they were mostly friendly, even Piper - with her chatty nature - wasn’t able to learn much more about them than their names or how her roommates knew them: a friend from the gym, a girl Duncan met at the library, a friend’s cousin who was new in town.

But Piper didn’t mind. The rotating parade of company was interesting, and her friends were a lot of fun. And importantly, with a stable place to stay, she was making decent money. She’d quickly found a job working as a courier for a local restaurant, and within a couple months she’d gotten a raise. She was only a few paychecks away from getting that dreamy Kawasaki that she’d been eyeing for years - a dream that finally seemed attainable. Sure, it would clear out all of her savings, but it would be paid in full and it would be hers.

I make my own luck, Piper always liked to say. And finally, after a solid year of meandering around Thedas and scraping together cash by skipping meals and crashing on couches, it looked like Piper’s luck was finally turning around.

***********************

Piper drummed her fingers impatiently on the bank counter. The teller had stepped into the back to get more envelopes, and she knew she shouldn’t be acting so antsy; the teller was being more than helpful, and Piper had already waited for more than two weeks for her banking forms to get processed so she could take out the thirty grand she needed. But now that she was here, and her Kawasaki was so close she could almost taste it, she could barely contain her rapidly fraying patience.

Peronn gave her arm a squeeze. “Easy there, Pip. The bike will still be there tomorrow.”

Piper wrinkled her nose and nudged him with her elbow. “I know, I know. But can you blame a girl for being excited? Besides,” she said, “I already have to wait a whole night before I can go and get my bike. A whole night! I’m already raring to go, it’s not fair…” She stomped her leather-booted feet on the floor and pouted at Peronn.

He chuckled and slung his arm around her neck. “Ah, don’t worry. We’ll get you good and drunk at Chora’s Den, and the night’ll fly by, and next thing you know, you’ll be picking up your bike. You’ll probably be too hungover to ride it home, though.” He snickered.

Piper punched him playfully in the belly. “Real helpful, Per. Thanks.”

At long last, the bank teller came out from the back, and Piper watched in high anticipation as she carefully packed her money into an envelope. At long last, the teller slid the envelope across the counter.

“All right, love, there you are,” the teller said. She gave Piper a stern and motherly look. “Be careful, now. It’s a dangerous road out there, you hear?”

Peronn snorted softly; Piper hadn’t been able to resist blurting her motorcycle aspirations to the teller when they’d arrived.

Piper ignored him and nodded eagerly. “I’ll be careful, don’t worry,” she chirped. With slightly trembling hands, she took the precious packet from the smiling teller.

She and Peronn left the bank, and Peronn gave her a noisy kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations, Pip,” he announced. “You’re more than halfway there.”

She grinned and happily wrapped her arm around his waist. He was right. Collecting this much cash had been the hardest part. In less than twelve hours, she’d have the one thing she’d most wanted ever since her father had died: a way to fly across the world like the curious adventurer her father had always encouraged her to be.

At that moment, her phone chirped in her pocket, and she pulled it out to find a text from Maara.

7:21pm - where tf r u guys??? 7:21pm - hurry up and get here im so excited for u!! 7:21pm - SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS ERYBODY

Piper snorted with laughter. With a surge of excited happiness, she darted around behind Peronn and jumped onto his back.

He laughed as he hooked his arms around her legs, and Piper wrapped her arms around her neck. “Come on,” she said cheerfully. “You’ll have to be my ride until I get my bike! Let’s go!”

Peronn snickered dirtily. “You can ride me anytime, Pip. Now let’s get you fucked up.”

********************

Duncan raised his shot glass. “Cheers to Piper, who is finally upgrading to a real vehicle like an adult and can shove that bike bell right up her-” “Hey, don’t be a dickhead!” Maara gave Duncan’s arm a slap, and the rest of their table burst into raucous laughter.

Piper raised her glass as well. “Cheers to good friends and shitty well whiskey!” she said cheerfully, then elbowed Maara. “You guys couldn’t even spring top shelf for me?”

Maara laughed, then leaned in close to Piper’s pointed ear. “You’re the one with all the cash, big spender,” she purred, then gave Piper a playful jab.

Piper chuckled and downed the shot, then hissed a breath through her teeth as Duncan waved to the waitress for another round. “Tastes fucking terrible, you assholes.”

Another eruption of laughter rose from their table, and Piper grinned as she basked in the perfection of the moment. As was always the case with their little foursome, one drink turned into three, and three swiftly multiplied into many more. It wasn’t long before Piper was properly sauced. Maara had insisted that this was by design, as this would be Piper’s last chance to get irresponsibly smashed before she’d have to drive herself home from the bars.

She wasn’t certain how much she’d had to drink or how long they’d been at Chora’s Den by the time she was stumbling into the alley behind the bar. It had started to rain, and Piper fumbled clumsily with her hood, struggling to get her inebriated fingers to cooperate.

She finally pulled her hood up over her unruly hair, and she smiled in triumph as her fumbling fingers lit a cigarette. She took a deep, satisfied drag and released it into the damp nighttime air, then briefly lifted her face to enjoy the rain on her heated cheeks.

A moment later, she heard the bar’s back door swinging open, and the loud sounds of laughter and music spilled out before the door slammed shut again. Piper smiled fuzzily as she took another pull of her cigarette. It was probably Peronn; he’d told her he would be right behind her.

She turned toward the door. “Hey you-”

The left side of her face collided with a fist. A starburst of white-hot pain burst across her vision, and the twin devils of alcohol and agony had her on the asphalt in a second.

Piper collapsed on her hands and knees, gasping in shock as the unforgiving ground scraped against her palms. Already she could feel a burn of pain rising from her battered browbone. Her ears were ringing, and everything was spinning, and that cheap-as-shit alcohol they’d been guzzling was absolutely no help.

“Wh-whathefuck…” she slurred. She tried shakily to push herself upright, and was met with a foot to her gut.

The air left her lungs with an ugly grunt, and she collapsed onto her shoulder and curled instinctively into a ball.

The contents of her stomach were curdling at the back of her throat. Through the haze of pain and disbelief, she heard a voice - a horribly familiar voice. “Just grab the cash, phone, and her keys.”

Peronn? No. There was no fucking way. He wouldn’t, not Peronn - they shared a bed together, he… he loved her. He’d even almost told her so one time. He wouldn’t. She was drunk, she was hearing things…

Piper dared to open her eyes, vaguely noting that the left one wouldn't quite open all the way.

She blinked hard and tried to take in the scene before her. Peronn and Maara were huddled together talking in low, urgent voices, and Duncan was crouching down beside her and reaching inside her jacket.

She tried to tuck her arm in closer to protect the precious envelope in her inside pocket. “Th’fuck are you doing?” she complained. “Some kind of sick fucking joke?”

She lamely tried to bat Duncan’s hand away, and was swiftly met with another fist to the face.

Piper recoiled at the impact. A warm wash of blood trickled over her upper lip, which was burning with the same kind of agony that had lit her left browbone on fire.

She choked out a weak little sob and feebly curled her arms over her head. Duncan pried the keys and phone from her pocket, and Piper whimpered in protest as he pulled her hard-won cash from her inner pocket.

Give it back, she thought, but the words wouldn’t come. Her throat was aching, and her head was pounding, and through the rising wave of realization - they fucked me over - Peronn’s smooth voice reached her ringing ears.

“No hard feelings, Pip.”

A swell of tears thickened at the back of her throat. The once-sweet term of endearment stung worse than the beating.

She struggled to sit upright. Maara and Duncan were already moving off, and Piper thought she could hear Maara saying something snide about ‘fucking Dalish bumpkins’, but she could barely take it in. Her dazed eyes drifted over Peronn’s dirty Converse sneakers, then slowly up his lanky body to his pitying smirk.

“Why?” she croaked. Her voice sounded so small in her ears. She sounded so weak - fuck, she was so weak to ask - but she had to know.

He slowly crouched beside her. Despite the beating he’d clearly orchestrated, her stupid, drunken heart couldn’t help a little hopeful jolt.

Peronn ran his thumb along her swollen left cheek, then gave it a light slap, and Piper flinched at the strike. He was being so fucking cruel. Those long-fingered hands of his, hands that had once held her so tenderly… they felt like sandpaper on her skin.

Peronn casually rested his elbows on his knees and tilted his head. “We got into a little trouble. You know how it is. So thanks for the helping hand, yeah?”

Piper’s sodden mind was reeling. What kind of trouble? Was it… did it have to do with the people who were always coming through the apartment? Now that Piper thought about it, there were a lot of whispered, furtive conversations…

Gods, I’m such a fucking idiot. She should have guessed. She’d always known her friends - hah, friends - toed the line of the law, but…

But why didn’t they just ask for help? All they’d had to do was ask. All this for some fucking money that she would have been more than happy to lend them if they needed it. Had this been a setup from day one?

That thought was the one that hurt the most. The thought that all of this - the months she’d spent with them, that she’d spent with him, twisted together on that fucking futon of his -

Peronn rose to his feet and started to walk away, and Piper just… watched him go. Her usual sharp tongue had no witty remark, no snide comment; she couldn’t even form a complete sentence at the back of her muddled mind.

Just before he left the alley, Peronn glanced over his shoulder at her one last time. “Better luck next time, kid,” he said. Then he was gone.

Luck. Fucking luck. Of course he had to throw her own stupid little motto back at her. At that thought, her swollen face crumpled with misery and not a little pain.

Her tears were scalding, adding further to the discomfort of her split and bloodied lip. Piper let her heavy head hang low, tears dripping from the tip of her nose and joining with the rain that was slowly soaking through her hood.

She was back to square one. No, worse than square one. When she’d left her clan, she hadn’t had any money or family, but at least her face was intact. And at least… fuck, at least she’d been able to trust people. What was she supposed to do now? Just assume everyone she met was going to take her shit and leave her alone and beaten on the street?

An ugly little sob escaped her throat. Piper scowled at herself for being so dramatic, then winced in pain as the scowl split her eyebrow even further, causing a fresh trickle of blood to leak down the side of her face.

She took a deep breath, then spat a gobbet of bloody phlegm onto the wet asphalt. With effort, she managed to get her feet under her, then carefully lifted her aching body up until she was standing again.

She stumbled slightly as her spinning head tried to right itself. “Fuck,” she groaned. Her solar plexus felt bruised from Duncan’s kick, and there was gravel embedded in the scratches in her palms, and her face felt like it was on fire. And still she knew this was only the start of it. She was still drunk, still slightly numb from the booze, and she could only imagine the agony that would be coming for her later when the whiskey wore off.

She slowly made her way toward the back door of the Chora’s Den and leaned heavily against the wall. She reached inside her jacket and pulled out her smokes - she supposed she was lucky that Duncan had let her keep those, at least - then pulled out a cigarette and her lighter.

She carefully lit the cigarette with trembling hands, then took a long drag from the uninjured corner of her mouth. Ten seconds later, the cigarette was smoked down to the butt, and Piper dropped it on the ground and watched silently as the tiny spark fizzled out into a pitiful little stream of smoke.

She sighed heavily and leaned her aching head against the wall. Peronn and the others were probably packed up and long gone by now. It’s not like they owned much stuff to begin with. That was probably why Peronn had made her spend the whole day out with him. This was definitely why Maara had insisted that they come straight here from the bank instead of giving Piper time to go home and change.

I fucked up. It was the only conclusion Piper had. She’d trusted total strangers, taken out all her cash, and gone and gotten blind drunk with thirty thousand bucks in her pocket. Of course it was her fault. And there was no point going to the police. She had no proof of what they’d done. Besides, the police in this city weren’t super trusting of the Dalish.

Piper ran a hand over her soaking hood. What now? There was nothing left for her in Ansburg. No friends, no home, no money… she had her job, but that wasn’t much good without a place to stay.

She sighed. Looked like it was back to the nomadic lifestyle. She could probably talk her boss into cutting her final check early; that would be enough to get her a bus ticket and a few necessary supplies before heading out to…

Well, that was the question. Where was she going to go? Somewhere new, for sure; Piper wasn’t much of one for retracing her steps, especially since her steps thus far had led to this.

Where to next, then? This was the question she pondered as she pulled open the back door of Chora’s Den and dragged herself to the restroom. It was the question she thought about as she tossed her bloody wad of paper towels into the trash, then pulled open the restroom door and headed down the short hall toward the main room of the bar.

As she weaved her way along the hall, her inebriated eyes fell on a flyer tacked to the announcement board: a bright green flyer for a band called Blightfall, who were playing Kirkwall in three days’ time.

Blightfall. Piper had never heard of them. That was good. No memories of Peronn to tack the music onto. And she’d never been to Kirkwall before.

She smirked to herself. She’d heard Kirkwall was a right shithole this time of year, but really, it couldn’t be worse than here.

She pulled down the flyer and stuffed it in the back pocket of her jeans, then meandered back into the main room. The music was too loud and the laughter too bright for her pounding head, but she took a seat at the bar anyway.

The bartender glanced at her in passing, then did a double-take at her swollen face. Then, as bartenders were sometimes wont to do, he chose not to ask any questions.

He leaned his palms on the bar and tilted his head. “What can I get you?”

Piper ruefully twisted her lips until it hurt. She sheepishly shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and was about to tell him she hadn’t any money for a drink, but before she could speak, her fingers found a soft scrap of paper in the depths of her pocket.

She pulled it out. It was a ten-dollar bill.

That’s lucky, she thought. And despite herself, despite the shitshow of the night she’d just had and the shitshow that was sure to meet her in the ugly light of day, Piper smiled.

She slid the bill across the bar. “Whiskey, neat,” she said.

The bartender nodded and turned away to fetch her drink, and Piper sat back with a sigh.

I make my own luck, she thought. Tonight, that luck was a ten-dollar bill.

Tomorrow, Kirkwall.

#piper lavellan #piperford #cullavellan #cullen/lavellan #cullen x lavellan #cullen/inquisitor #cullen x inquisitor #luck of the law #modern au #pikapeppa writes

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lobsters-on-their-heads · 5 years

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OB Rewatch: Gag or Throttle

The episode from whence my thumbnail image came.

My first watch review can be found here: https://lobsters-on-their-heads.tumblr.com/post/163333202396/gag-or-throttle

I loved

Exploring Rachel's character, background, and motivations. She'll never be my favorite character, but she is one of the most interesting characters.

Two minutes later after seeing young Rachel talking with the Neos, adult Rachel introduces Kira Manning to the board, wearing the same outfit, at the same age, but rather less curated than Rachel was.

Fucking adorable Charlotte sitting wrapped in a blanket with her mug of cocoa or whatever, so proud that they “escaped on a boat with only a map and compass”

I love that Rachel had a real reason to side with the sisters, in her discovery of PT's eye-cam tablet. Although maybe it wasn’t so much siding with them as siding against PT.

The steady drum/ bass beat that starts once Rachel sits in her video room drinking herself numb. Season 5 doesn’t have quite the same spot-on soundtrack as previous seasons, but this was great.

“Fell from a punt and drowned” – “probably also alcohol poisoning”

The climax of this episode takes us back to earlier seasons. There’s horror and genuine suspense, and Ledas working together.

And Kira, who can feel Rachel’s emotions, asking “Who hurt you?” and Rachel’s response - “All of them.”

Tat plays drunk so well. Finding little details fascinating, dragging the glass across her lap.

I love that Rachel ripped out her own fake eyeball, which was connected by actual tissue to her head. She will do ANYTHING to have control over her own body. I’m reminded of Leekie in Season 2 saying something like, “Rachel takes insult very personally.”

I liked

The opening flashback to young Rachel, with her almost robotic recitations of clones' tag numbers paired with picking her fingernails bloody. Although they seem to have CGI’d something onto Matt Frewer’s head.

There’s a great contrast of Rachel in this ep – vulnerable, undignified (two pelvic exams and a shot of her wiping the lube from between her legs while wearing a paper gown), talked down to – with the Rachel we met in Seasons 1 and 2 – meticulous, formal, controlling.

“Liver deep” indeed. We've seen Alison put down some booze before.

I did like Mark's “oh for fuck's sake come 'ere” man hug of his mom.

They're giving Skyler Wexler much meatier material, which is great. They're not keeping her in “cute little kid who rests her chin on her hand” land, as other shows do with their token child. She’s not the greatest actress, but they hired her at the age of, like, 6, and she’s acting opposite Tatiana Maslany, so any less-than-perfections are totally forgivable in my book.

Rachel keeps the bracelet Kira gives her and wears it for the rest of the episode!

I didn't like

S immediately busting out her handgun bundle when Sarah said they were making her wait until tomorrow to talk to Kira. Siobhan's been the calm one, as Sarah points out. It’s not the first time Dyad has taken Kira, not the first time things have seemed hopeless.

Cosima's reunion with Scott made me uncomfortable. Sure, I’m glad they had a reunion, and yes, they would be happy to see each other, but the zooming in on faces, the lingering embrace.... eh. [funny, I enjoyed this scene in my first watch]

The whole tired “married man rushes to clean the house moments before his wife gets back” schtick. I mean, okay, it fits here, since Donnie's been living totally alone and I would make a mess, too, and plus, maybe he didn’t have much notice that Alison was returning, but it’s a cliché I’d like to not see for a bit.

Alison's return. I like Alison a lot, but this isn't Alison, and this plot line doesn't work here at all. Nothing about her absence or sudden life change makes any damn sense at the end of Season 5. And she threw away her craft supplies! I mean, listen, I teach essay writing for a living, and one major point we stress is that you don’t bring in extra information in the conclusion unless it directly connects to something you wrote before. We’re in Episode 7 of 10, the final stretch, and Alison’s changes don’t connect.

I don't give a shit about Mark and Gracie. I do think the subplot of no one trying to cure the Castor men is an interesting one, but Mark and Gracie don't do it for me.

There's a lot of bouncing around / sudden scene changes / “gasp!” reveals that aren't gasp worthy.

Other notes

Interesting word choice - “our most curated subject... Rachel Duncan.”

I don't know enough about Dungeons and Dragons to know if Hell Wizard's comment about “DnD in real life” makes any damn sense.

Very telling that Rachel signs a document promising her freedom from the experiment, much like she pressure the sisters into doing in Season 1, but she thinks that this one is for real.

Canon confirmation that Leekie has seen Rachel's vagina. Or very close to it.

Imagine jerking off into a cup and knowing that you're going to be giving that cup to the woman you call your mother. The Castor men really are just as “curated” as Rachel’s been.

It took me a second to realize the implication of this shot the first time I watched it. I am not always smart.

Leekie shows real fascination and care for the clones when he discovers Rachel's autopsy of Miriam. He sees Miriam as a human being, not simply a lab rat. However, I think half of his anger towards Rachel is due to her going behind his back, not due to her “encouraging” Miriam to die.

I forgot, again, that Rachel and Cosima are played by the same person.

I am super impressed that Rachel managed to text while looking with one eye. Anyone who's received text messages from me can attest to the numbers of typos I make while looking at my phone with both eyes.

Speaking of eyes, I couldn't watch. Eyeball horror skeeves me out more than anything.

I have questions

Did Rachel believe PT’s story about his age and background? She’s pretty blasé when Sarah emails her that obit.

What is keeping Rachel's top up? I have so many questions about shirts/ dresses like this. As always, women’s fashion confuses me.

Rachel Duncan went to summer camp?!?! And had a friend!?! I need more information about this!

Were the friendship bracelet and questions about Rachel really all Kira's idea / natural personality? Did she intuit that Rachel was a good person inside? Or was it part of the hustle?

What is the issue, exactly, with Charlotte's leg? We see her on the bed with seem to be crossed legs, her brace on the bed beside her.

What the fuck happened with the revolt on the island last episode?

Why do the Castor boys all have distinct last names?

Do the Neolution symbles have meaning?

Did Coady leave Rachel's chart up on the computer on purpose? Did she want Rachel to see it?

In what room did Rachel perform that autopsy of Miriam?

So PT can hear everything too? Does the eye have a receiver, or has he just tapped her phone?

I would've liked to have seen

An entire episode devoted to Cosima and Charlotte escaping on a boat, with just a map and compass, and then sending the boat back out onto the water and making their way from the shore to the Rabbit Hole. I like to think that maybe they stopped somewhere for donuts on way back.

#gag or throttle #OB rewatch #OB season 5 #Tatiana Maslany

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dangermousie · 6 years

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Reading list for the month - hooray for the Middle Ages!!

I’ve not really been watching much lately (except that I just discovered the Legend of Fuyao and it’s AHMAZING) but I have been reading a bunch, hence the reading list. I also have a v short attention span so while I am not reading all the books listed below that I recently got and/or put on my kindle, I am reading about five of them at once.

As you can tell, I am on the Middle Ages kick right now. Also, as you can tell, current historical crushes are apparently William the Conqueror and Edward the Black Prince and Richard III (always.) Hmmmm.

Valerie Anand, King of the Wood - how many novels are there about the time of William Rufus aka Fabulously Gay aka Killed By Arrow Mysteriously Probably By Orders of Baby Bro? This one revolves around William and Ralph de somebody, a minor nobleman who comes over to get lands and power. Ralph is young and hot and William fancies him and even though Ralph is not inclined that way, he is not going to turn down a roll or dozen in the hay with the king if it gets him closer to his goal. Apparently this all leads to mixed results, eventual death of William, ancient pagan rites, Ralph getting some land and a hot wife, and overall a very sympathetic portrayal of William Rufus. I have not started yet though.

Anna Belfrage, The Cold Light of Dawn - the fourth and possibly last in one of my favorite medieval series that follows the lives of a minor knight, Adam, and his arranged but then more, wife, Kit during the reigns of Edward II and III. This is such a lovely lovely series and this book so far is as good as the rest. Adam is a protege of Roger Mortimer (of the “de facto ruler of England, lover of Queen Isabella’ fame) and when the book 1 starts is slated to arrange marry a spoiled aristocrat who is missing so her family hastily substitutes a bastard daughter and lieeeees. The books follow them as they fall in love, reveal their secrets, try to survive in a pretty horrible time period etc etc. Adam eventually becomes close to Edward III which causes all sorts of internal conflicts. Book 1 is probably my fave (though second half of it is a giant trigger warning as Despenser takes Adam and, to lesser degree, Kit, under his notice) but all of them are good and the latest is wonderful as always. Frankly, by now, I love the lead couple so much, I could just read about them going about their business in their residence for 500 pages.

Anna Chant, Three Times the Lady - I can’t believe I found a novel about Judith, first Countess of Flanders! If you do not know who she is, Judith was a daughter of a Frank king who married her to a much older king of Wessex. When the old man died, she married his grown son (this was a few centuries before the Church would have fits about this) and when that man died, she returned back home. Daddy King did not want to lose such a valuable bargaining chip (who was still quite young) either to make her own marriage or to be taken by some lord via kidnap so he stuck her in a remote fortress while he decided which potential husband would make the best bargain. Ummm. Hunky Baldwin was guarding the place, he and Judith fell for each other and with the help of her brother ran off and got married. Daddy King lost his mind, took Baldwin’s lands, the lovers had to go to the Pope to beg for help blah blah eventually Daddy King cooled down, Baldwin became the first Court of Flanders and got nicknamed Iron Arm for how hard he fought to protect his father in law. So basically, this is a RL medieval romance, of the “hot dude in chainmail holding pretty lady on cover” variety. Seriously - I am very surprised this is the only novel of her I know. I realize records were not as good as they were later but this just gives more room for license. I am quite excited to read this since I’ve read a couple of other books by Chant set around that time and loved them.

Joanna Courtney, The Conqueror’s Queen - Matilda, Mrs the Conqueror. Hmmmmmm. I am about 1/3 in. The book’s odd insistence on Matilda liking but not loving William despite his being amazing in beddddd and generally a stud muffin of stud muffiness is a little odd (it’s just an odd combo) but it’s a fun light read. What I would really love is for someone like Sharon Kay Penman to write a giant doorstopper of a series about that reign.

Joanna Courtney, The Constant Queen - about Elizabeth, the Russian wife of Harald Hardrada. I am about 60% in. It’s not as good as it could be (it doesn’t make Harald interesting which, even reading a short summary of his life on wikipedia - the man had an insane life) but it’s about a subject that’s not novelized often or even that well-know (in fact, prior to this book, the one thing I knew about Harald was that he was defeated by Harold Godwinson who then had to take his exhausted troops and march to fight William the Conqueror. If not for that, England now might be ruled by Harold’s and not William’s descendants.) Also, Elizabeth herself is likeable and the author does a good job on selling me that the two loved each other even while not falling into the trap of making the relationships modern (Harald has a hand-fast wife because he needs sons; it’s not much of an issue etc.) It’s a pleasant beach/travel read.

Dorothy Dunnett, King Hereafter - my favorite stand-alone period novel of all time and I am gonna reread it and bawl. It’s about Earl Thorfinn of Orkney, who Dunnett supposes to be the basis for historical Macbeth. It is simply the best historical novel ever written and if Thorfinn/Groa don’t move you, you have no heart. It’s also a rare book where people feel like people of the period, not modern people playing dress up.

Parke Godwin, Sherwood/Robin and the King - I used to love this bleak, emotional, amazing duology which moves the story of Robin Hood around the time of the Norman Conquest. I just got my hands on it again.

Karen Harper, The First Princess of Wales - ok, this is pretty much a romance novel. About Edward the Black Prince and Joan of Kent. So bring it on!

Justin Hill, Viking Fire - a novel about Harald Hardrada whose life I am fascinated by now

Thomas W. Jensen, As a Black Prince on Bloody Fields - I am currently about a third into this and loving it. It deals with basically the first half of the life of Edward the Black Prince, who is one of my favorite historical what-ifs. Oldest son and heir of Edward III, the Black Prince was a hell of a medieval warrior, very involved in Crecy and in charge in Poitiers, two of the three biggest English victories in the 100 years war. In the latter, heavily outnumbered English captured the French king himself. Also, interestingly, he married for love in quite a scandal. Instead of marrying a foreign royal, he married an English noblewoman, older than him (she was 32 when they married!!!), a widow with five children AND a scandalous history (her first two husbands had a fight that went all the way to the Pope about which one of them was her actual husband. There were secret marriages and all that.) He married in secret, his father eventually came around etc. He would have probably made a King in the scary but effective mold of Edward I, but on one of his campaigns, he contracted one of many nasty medieval diseases - dystentery - which crippled and eventually killed him shortly before his father died, leaving his small son to become Richard II. If the Black Prince was better about drinking clean water, Edward III would have been succeeded not by a small child who, as an adult, wasn’t particularly cut out for the rough business of medieval Kingship, but by a competent and scary adult warrior. Thus no Henry IV revolt (do you really want to face the man who almost conquered France), no war of the Roses, no Tudors, no Church of England. Anyway, he was a fascinating man, in some ways an epitome of medieval warrior class ideals but probably because of that, there aren’t too many novels about him in the last whatever years. Like Henry V, his virtues are a bit too alien for the modern world. He is VERY medieval. But I find him fascinating beyond measure and deserving of more books about him, so this excellent excellent novel is such a pleasure.

Susan Fraser King, Queen Hereafter - about Margaret, wife of Malcolm (of the son of Duncan, killer of Macbeth fame.) I know little about it except the topic interests me.

G. Lawrence, The Heart of the Conqueror - Matilda, again. Matilda here is portrayed as rather an anti-heroine, vain, ambitious and picking William because he’s the scariest and most capable man she met. They are monsters in love (though, frankly, their attitudes are not such much monstrous as early medieval) and I do love them so. I find it quite odd that the author chose to start her novel with the apocryphal story of Matilda insulting William’s courtship and calling him a bastard and William riding in to beat her up in her own father’s town and her deciding this is what she digs in a dude. Lawrence makes the beatdown, already possibly fictional, quite brutal, so it makes me wonder if Matilda is insane to decide William is it because of it. Also, he never lays a finger on her again so wtf. Oh well, historically they did seem to have a rare successful marriage so there is that - I don’t mind him being a good husband since it’s historically accurate, it’s just the weird start to the relationship that makes me boggle.

Rosanne E. Lortz, I Serve: A Novel of the Black Prince - you can tell I am on the Black Prince kick, right? This is about a squire to him and looks quite interesting but I haven’t read it yet.

Isolde Martyn, The Knight and the Rose - sometimes you are just in the mood for an angsty but happy medieval romance.

Anne O’Brien, The Virgin Widow - Romancey take on Anne and Richard III? Yes PLS. If I like this, I might end up getting more of the author’s books as she appears to specialize in known but not super famous medieval women with strong romantic relationships, so YES. I did find it tragically amusing that in order to make the end happy (I peeked), she ends before all the bad stuff happens - their son dying, Anne dying, Richard being killed etc. But then I bawled with the Sunne in Spendour so....

Edith Pargeter, The Brothers of Gwynnedd - reread. It’s a great, epic, tragic, poetic tale of the end of the Welsh independence and surprisingly, in light of all the tragedy, somewhat of a comfort read.

Judith Merkle Riley, A Vision of Light - about a widow of a medieval merchant, this has been recommended to me by multiple people. We shall see.

Anya Seton, Katherine - I read that book so long ago, I barely remember anything. But it’s a classic and Katherine Swynford has always been interesting and I am a sucker for RL romance so reread!!!

Freda Warrington, The Court of the Midnight King - a fantasy AU of Richard III where he gets to live and be happy with his mistress Kate (modeled on mother of his illegitimate child in RL) Oh YES.

#books #middle ages

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lies · 6 years

Text

I went on a spectacularly successful pelagic birding trip last Sunday. To spare your dashboard from individual posts about each of the county year birds I added I’m going to put them all in one post, and I’ll throw in a cut to spare non-mobile dashboards from so much wonderful pelagic-birding content. 🙂

This was the long-range summer pelagic trip conducted by Island Packers, as organized by Ventura-county birder Dave Pereksta. We started from Ventura Harbor at 7 a.m., visited Anacapa Island, then motored west along the south sides of Anacapa and Santa Cruz. Once we reached the northwest corner of the Santa Cruz Basin (an area of very deep water south of the island) we headed south along the underwater escarpment that marks the basin’s western edge. Areas like that tend to be characterized by upwellings that bring nutrient-rich water to the surface, leading to more fish, marine mammals, and birds.

(Side note: I was too focused on the birds to pay much attention to the cetaceans, but we had great views of Minke, Fin, and Blue Whales, as well as several types of dolphins, during this part of the trip.)

We went south as far as a point about 7 or 8 miles north of San Nicolas Island, then turned east and headed to Santa Barbara Island. From there we made the final trip back north to Ventura, passing east of Anacapa. The whole trip took about 12 hours. About half of it was in Ventura County waters, so those birds didn’t count toward my Santa Barbara list; the other half was in Santa Barbara County.

Is it interesting to a non-county-list-obsessed person how the offshore county boundaries are drawn for bird-watching purposes? Probably not; apologies... But basically, county boundaries don’t actually exist far out in the ocean, so birdwatchers have come up with a system of assigning pelagic birding “counties” based on whatever the closest point of land is. This makes for an interesting patchwork off southern California, since some islands (Anacapa and San Nicolas) are in Ventura County, while others (Santa Cruz, Santa Rosa, and Santa Barbara) are in Santa Barbara County. Fortunately, keeping track of all that was up to the trip leaders: Super-experienced birders who got a free ride (I assume) in return for acting as guides for the paying customers, keeping the county-specific eBird lists and helping find and identify birds.

Enough meta; on with the birds!

Pink-footed Shearwater (Ardenna creatopus)

Photo by Flicker user Greg Schechter

#277

We saw thousands of Sooty Shearwaters during the trip, but I’d already managed to add those to the list by scoping from shore at Ocean Beach Park west of Lompoc. The Pink-footed Shearwaters were another story, though. We saw lots of them mixed in with the Sooties, and I soon got familiar with their slightly slower flight style.

Red-necked Phalarope (Phalaropus lobatus)

Photo by Flickr user Andrew Cannizzaro

#278

We saw a few of these at various points during the trip, skittering away from the boat across the water. I’m pretty sure at least one group was in Santa Barbara County waters, though I won’t know for sure until the official trip lists are shared with participants.

Cook’s Petrel (Pterodroma cookii)

Photo by Flickr user Duncan

#279

Such a cool bird! They breed in New Zealand, but during the Northern Hemisphere summer they range up into the eastern part of the North Pacific. Our trip leaders weren’t expecting to see them since we weren’t going to be far enough offshore, but surprise! We saw a lot of them in both counties; close to 100 in the final count. I loved getting to know their graceful, arcing flight pattern, the way they swoop down toward the water and up again, similar to but distinctly different from the shearwaters they were hanging out with.

Black Storm-Petrel (Oceanodroma melania)

Image by Wikipedia user Cato Neimoidia

#280

I’d never identified a storm-petrel before. I’m sure I must have seen them, having spent so much time sailing off southern California growing up, but almost all of that time I was racing, not birdwatching, and I guess I just kept the two activities compartmentalized. Anyway, I’ve now enjoyed quality views of a whole bunch of Black Storm-Petrels; we saw lots of them throughout much the trip.

Ashy Storm-Petrel (Oceanodroma homochroa)

Photo by Jeff Poklen

#281

I was grateful to have expert birders around to help me learn these. Peter Gaede (who led our Big Pine Mountain survey trip) patiently showed me how the Black Storm-Petrels had deeper wingbeats, while the slightly smaller Ashies had quicker, shallower wingbeats. The difference was subtle, but with someone standing next to me to confirm the IDs it didn’t take long to be able to pick them out.

Leach’s Storm-Petrel (Oceanodroma leucorhoa)

Photo by Flickr user Marcel Holyoak

#282

Again, I was lucky to have experts around to find and point out the different storm-petrels in the big groups we motored through; I saw a few of these at various points. Some of the more-expert birders on the boat saw a few additional storm-petrel species, but I wasn’t able to get on any of those.

Nazca Booby (Sula granti)

Photo by Flickr user putneymark

#283

This is the bird (actually birds) that the trip leaders were most excited about. It’s a super-rarity that normally lives in the Galapagos Islands, but a few have showed up in Southern California in recent years. We saw one perched on Arch Rock on the east end of Anacapa; that one was something like the 3rd or 4th county record for Ventura County. Which was cool and all, but I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret that the bird hadn’t been a few miles away in Santa Barbara County. Fast-forward to late afternoon, though, as we were approaching Santa Barbara Island, when a second Nazca Booby appeared out of nowhere and flew right over the boat as dozens of giant lenses tracked it and snapped photos. Apparently that one was only the second Santa Barbara County record; it was a real privilege to be there for it. Officially the sighting will have to be approved by the California Bird Records Committee, but for my low-grade just-for-funsies county year list it definitely qualifies for now.

Brown Booby (Sula leucogaster)

Photo by Flickr user Alan Schmierer

#284

Another tropical species that has been expanding its range. I didn’t realize it before the trip, but last November Brown Boobies were discovered nesting on Sutil Island, a small islet a few hundred yards from Santa Barbara Island. We counted more than 40 of them perched on the rocky cliff as we bobbed a few boat lengths from shore.

Long-tailed Jaeger (Stercorarius longicaudus)

Photo by Flickr user jacksnipe1990

#285

We saw a few of these near Santa Barbara Island; not the adult form with the long central tail plume that gives it its name, but younger birds like this one. I’ve got a soft spot for jaegers, and seeing these (we saw several) was really special.

That was it for new county year birds, but I also got some great new-to-me birds in Ventura County:

South Polar Skua (Stercorarius maccormicki)

Photo by Flicker user Greg Schechter

This one showed up to check out the chum line that professional bird guide Wes Fritz was ladling out from the stern as we cruised north of San Nicolas Island.

American Oystercatcher (Haematopus palliatus)

Photo by Wikipedia user Peter Wallack

One of the goals of the trip was to look for American Oystercatchers on the south shore of Anacapa, where they sometimes show up mingled with the local Black Oystercatchers. And... one was there! It’s not for-sure; hybrid American/Black Oystercatchers also tend to show up in Southern California, and there’s a complex formula called the “Jehl scale” that birders sometimes use to try to figure out how “pure” a particular American-ish SoCal oystercatcher is. I dunno; we got good looks and lots of photos of this one, and the assembled experts seemed to think the bird looked pretty good for American.

It wasn’t in Santa Barbara County, so I’m like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sabine’s Gull (Xema sabini)

Photo by Flickr users Andy Reago & Chrissy McClarren

This one was a legitimate thrill for me; a bird I’d very much hoped we’d see, that I knew was a possibility but that was also far from a sure thing. It’s a pelagic gull that’s rarely seen from shore, and I was so happy to see it I didn’t even mind that it was in Ventura County.

And that’s it! On the way back the experts on the boat were fairly giddy; “one of the top 5 Southern California pelagic trips ever!” one said. I’ll take his word for it; it was only my second pelagic birding trip, so I don’t have much to compare it to.

But I sure had a good time.

#birds #santa barbara county year list #pelagic birding #island packers #carp without cars

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