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#like. that fic is SO bad on many levels and my writing improved soooo much over the years it's not even funny
lucy-ghoul · 2 years
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Changed my pfp to the lovely Miss Daaé (one of, if not my most beloved gothic heroine 💕) as played by the super talented Amy Manford in the Greek production, since I'm in a Phantom mood these days (I'm even re-reading one of my fav phics and editing my....... *cringes* old Canon Divergent fic that I wrote when I was 19/20 because oh my god, it sure af needed some heavy adjustments brrrrr 🤦🏻🤦🏻)
#like. that fic is SO bad on many levels and my writing improved soooo much over the years it's not even funny#but i'm extremely fond of it since it was my first completed long fic#and i loved writing about erik (poor little meow meow Most Beloved etc. etc.) and his relationship with the main female protagonist#who is... technically not an oc but let's be honest. she's such a small character in canon#that the heavily detailed personality/backstory i gave her makes her almost an oc#and one of my blueprints/fav archetypes for female characters in general#it's not an e/c story (tho i do like e/c and the fic i'm currently rereading is a GREAT eristine au)#but i also tried to make *their* relationship (as told through the abovementioned not quite oc main pov) as nuanced#and tragically fascinating as i think it is in canon 🙏#most of all it was a challenge. i remember my main goal was to write a relationship between erik and a young woman#with a VERY different personality than christine's. not bcs i dislike c. (quite the opposite as you can see from my pfp!)#but almost as a writing experiment. which most of my works usually end up being btw#so their relationship and eventually romance is some kind of a foil/distorted mirror of canon e/c. there's the (anti)villain/heroine +#older mentor/younger pupil + batb/death&the maiden themes etc.#BUT! the girl has a very different temperament than erik's main object of affection and desire#(wilder; darker; closer to his own actually *and* in itself a foil for christine's softer but not less strong nature)#and it's also true enemies to friends to lovers. and by far the most tragic thing i've ever written#like. i remember crying my heart out while writing erik's death scene... in the same chapter i made him and my girl fuck#and find some kind of romantic blessing after all the shit i put them through. unbelievable skskks#tho mind you it's NOT good. like AT ALL#actually i'm extremely embarrassed about it. how the fuck did i even think this was readable#let alone publishable on a fanfic site? OH MY FUCKING GOD. the shame the cringiness of it all......#but as i already said i'm still very fond of and nostalgic about it. it's also a very personal work#i was going through some rough time and put a lot of myself my fears and mental struggle in it#yes the projection was... quite obvious in hindsight#still. it's in URGENT need of editing#also @ italian mutuals if you're into phantom please DON'T go seeking and read it. just..... don't 😬😬😬😂😂#i promise my writing is much better now! not *that* good mind you lol. but at least it's vaguely decent (?)#val speaks#txt
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spine-buster · 5 years
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Alone, Together | Chapter 9 | Morgan Rielly
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A/N:  Mmmkay, so I was half-way done writing this chapter and I realized I read their schedule wrong and it turns out they were on a pretty long road trip (Chicago > Dallas > Detroit > Washington) the entirety of Thanksgiving and the week following.  Soooo for the purposes of this fic we are gonna pretend they came home from the Chicago game.  I try to make everything I write as accurate as possible (especially in terms of their schedule) so I apologize.  But this shit is cute and I didn’t want to have to re-jig everything around.
Warning: smut ahead.
When Morgan awoke on Monday, Thanksgiving morning, his legs sore from the game last night in Chicago and his equilibrium still off due to the late flight and the time change, he expected to roll over and come face to face with Briony.  Instead, he came face to face with nothing; a cold, empty side of the bed without her warmth.  
It took him a while to wake up.  He was notorious for it.  During his rookie year, he made a deal with Jake Gardiner that Jake would have to drive to the arena in the mornings, but he would drive them everywhere else, since they only had one car.  It was that bad.  He’d tried to improve it over the years, even going so far as to try and maintain a proper sleeping schedule, but nothing worked.  And so as he tried to wake himself up mentally, he started to think about the only thing that had been on his mind lately, besides hockey: Briony McTavish.  
Morgan had asked Briony to be there on Sunday night – to sleep over so that when he came home, she’d be there, in his bed – and she readily agreed.  He knew she was thinking it was more for the Thanksgiving feast she had to cook the next day, but selfishly, he just wanted her there so he’d have her to wake up to in the morning.  To be able to wake up next to her was a luxury that he wanted all the time.
After his first encounter with Briony at Green Cactus, after she approached him about that drink being sent to her table and they ended up having their dinners together, he had texted Jake Gardiner.  ‘I met a girl.’  That’s all he had to text him.  The next time Morgan spoke with him, it was all they talked about.  He’d hung with Briony more since then, and he wanted to tell Jake all about her.  Jake’s reaction was ‘If she’s willing to go out with you even though you smell so bad make sure you do everything in your power to keep her around.’
Everybody had always commented on how much of a level headed person Morgan was.  In life, in hockey, in pretty much everything – people considered it his best trait.  He didn’t overreact about much.  He always thought about things a lot – some would say too much – before he made any decisions, especially big decisions that would affect his life drastically.  Everybody had also always commented on how he liked to be alone.  Sure, he liked hanging out with his friends, especially his teammates, and these days when he was back in Vancouver for the summers he was more social than usual, but even his mom had commented on his affinity for being alone growing up.  The way she phrased it once was perfect to him:  “You like to be alone, but not lonely.”
It was for these reasons, however, that his complete descent into the adoration of Briony McTavish made the most yet least sense to him.  He couldn’t get enough of her.  At all.  The way her hair fell down her back.  The way she would put it into twists or buns or French braids.  The way her eyes lit up when she talked about what she was learning or what she was reading.  The way her clothes hugged her curves.  The way her hands held pens.  The way her fingers danced along keyboards.  The way she giggled when she was giddy.  The way she laughed with her whole body.  The way she laughed so hard she snorted, then laughed even harder.  The way she sipped wine.  The way she cut onions and garlic and poured olive oil into a saucepan to start a meal.  The way she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder.  The way she didn’t assume anything.  The way she was honest about everything in her life, past and present.  The way she carried herself with such dignity and grace.  The way she knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it.  The way she communicated her wants and needs.  The way she looked under him, panting as she moaned his name.  The way she looked on top of him as she straddled him and rode him in bed.  The way she looked cuddled up against him on the couch underneath a blanket with a bowl of extra buttery popcorn.  Everything about her.  
He was in deep already.  He acknowledged that they only met in late July.  He acknowledged that it had only been a couple of months since they met.  And he acknowledged that she hadn’t gotten a true taste of the hockey world or hockey schedule, and that yes, it could be too much for her and she could decide she didn’t want to go through it – but he was completely ready, willing, and able to carry this on for however long she let him; however long she allowed him, an athlete, to be in her life, one so full of promise and potential.
It was madness.  But nothing had ever felt so natural in his life besides hockey.
But he was in so deep he kept finding it harder and harder to ‘not put a label on it’ and ‘take it slow’.  He’d agreed initially because, well, she could have told him he had to walk on hot coals everyday and he would have said yes.  But it was getting harder for him to hide his emotions.  It was getting harder to seem like he didn’t care about being together, about making it official, about putting a label on it.  And he could only wonder, after their many stays at each other’s places, after spending so much time together, after agreeing to prepare a Thanksgiving feast for him and his friends…he could only wonder if it was getting hard for her, too.  
The only snag in all of this – and he never thought he’d say this – was hockey.  Not the sport itself.  No.  The sport itself was beautiful.  It was magic.  It was the best sport in the world and nobody could ever convince him otherwise.  It was the hockey media.  It was the intense pressure.  It was everybody around him knowing who he was every given moment of the day, wherever he went.  On most days, he just wanted to be left the fuck alone.  When he was with a girl, he really wanted to be left the fuck alone.  With Briony, he wanted to just keep her in a cabin in the damn woods so nobody would see her with him.  
To protect her.  To make sure she didn’t get hurt.  
As he finally managed to roll himself out of bed, he walked into his ensuite washroom to wash his face and brush his teeth.  He also put on a shirt, thinking it was probably unhygienic to be in a kitchen without a shirt on.  Maybe if he texted Auston a picture of himself near the turkey shirtless, he wouldn’t come anymore, and he and Briony would have the day to themselves.  He could only dream.
When he walked out of his bedroom, he saw Briony buzzing around the kitchen, heaps of food scattered around the countertops and on the island.  Potatoes were in one area, veggies in another.  She had already set the oven for 350 degrees, but looked like she was still preparing the turkey.  
He snuck up behind her, as quiet as he could, before wrapping his arms around her from behind.  She let out a small yelp at the sensation, not realizing he was there, of course.  She looked back and he gave her a quick kiss to the temple.  “G’morning,” he said, his voice still scraggly from sleep.
“You’re awake,” she said, rubbing his arm with one of her free hands.  
“You’re not playing music,” he said.
“Hmm?”
He kissed her neck.  “You always play music when you cook.  You’re not playing music.”
She smiled.  “You were sleeping.  I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Wouldn’t have cared,” he said.  “It’s also nine in the morning.  I shouldn’t be sleeping for this long.”  He took a quick moment to look at the giant turkey in front of him.  They bought one earlier in the week – a 12 pounder.  It had basically been defrosting since.  Briony checked up on it more than she did him this week.  He saw that she had seasoned it, put some nice herbs on it.  There was stuffing, at Auston’s late request.  As if he wasn’t asking for enough already.  “Turkey looks good,” he commented.
“You can’t tell your teammates how much butter is on this turkey,” she said in a worried tone.  Morgan snorted at her admission.  “I’m completely serious.  There’s almost a stick of butter on this thing.”
“It’s our secret,” he said, giving her one last kiss on the neck before letting go of her body.  “Do you need help with anything?” he asked, ready to lend a helping hand.
“I’m okay.”
“Briony.”
“Morgan, you know how I don’t like anybody else in the kitchen when I’m cooking,” she reminded him.
“Yeah but that’s for a dinner for two.  This is a Thanksgiving meal for five.  Four of them being hockey players,” he rationalized.
“I’ve managed my time,” she informed him.  “I know exactly what I need to do and when I need to do it.  I’ve even budgeted for a shower and getting ready before the boys come over.  I’m good.”
Morgan couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  “You sure, Bumblebee?” he used the nickname he’d given her opening night.  She never said anything against it.  
She nodded, standing on her toes to kiss him quickly.  “Go take a shower.  You smell.”
Tyler Ennis and his glorious mane of hair arrived first.  He brought a bottle of wine with him (ever the cordial guest), and Morgan opened it immediately so they could enjoy it with the array of appetizers Briony had prepared: a charcuterie board, some cheeses, and homemade bruschetta.  Briony got along with Tyler wonderfully – he had only signed to the Leafs this year, but Morgan took a quick liking to him and his personality in the locker room.  Briony seemed to be taking a liking too, and his trademark sense of humour was in full effect as he chowed down on the meats and sipped his wine while he talked to her.  
Fred came next.  He brought another bottle of wine with him and informed them that Auston was on his way, too.  The four ate their way through the charcuterie board and finished Tyler’s bottle of wine.  Tyler told some great stories about growing up in Edmonton and making the NHL with his best friend.  Fred told some funny stories about growing up in Denmark.  Auston still hadn’t arrived.  
The oven beeped loudly, signalling that the turkey was done.  Morgan watched as Briony went to check on it, taking it out of the oven and removing the foil tent.  He knew it had to sit for twenty minutes before it could be served.  Auston still hadn’t shown up.  He watched as she began to prep the platter for the turkey.  Watched as she transferred it over carefully.  Fred and Tyler were pretending not to look but the smell was too amazing to ignore.  She began to take out all the sides she prepared from the warming oven – the mashed potatoes, the green beans, the corn, the carrots and other assorted vegetables.  She started to make the gravy on the stove.  
Morgan was getting antsy.  If Fred said that Auston left the same time as he did but Fred was here first, then where the hell was Auston?
“Hey, do you have a sister?” Morgan heard Tyler ask Briony.  “I gotta get me a nice girl who can do this.”
“Nah.  I’m only and lonely,” she laughed.  “You can always learn to cook a turkey yourself, Enzo.”
“Don’t give me logical answers to things, sweetheart.  It makes my head hurt,” he remarked, causing Briony to laugh out loud.
Morgan took out his phone.  He sent a quick series of texts to Auston.
Don’t you dare be late There’s a 12 pound turkey in the fucking oven Briony’s been slaving in the kitchen all fucking day If you’re late, I’m never going to forgive you
As if on cue, there was a buzz that came through to the condo, signalling his arrival.  Morgan let him in immediately.  When he looked towards Briony, she was already looking at him.  “Auston’s finally here?” she asked.  He nodded his head.  “Okay good.  I can start putting everything on the table,” she picked up the mashed potatoes and walked it over to the dining table.  From the corner of his eye, Morgan noticed Fred staring at him with a grin on his face.  Briony, too busy with handling on the food, didn’t notice the grin, or the little wink he gave Morgan, or the general energy he was passing, which was totally a ‘You’ve got it baaaaaaaad for this girl’.  
When Auston appeared in the doorway he was carrying a large bouquet of flowers.  Beautiful ones, too: roses and gerbera daisies and lilies, all mixed in with some greenery.  Morgan watched as Briony’s eyes lit up as he handed them to her, and she looked at him asked, “Morgan, do you have a vase?”, but he was a single man, and single men don’t get flowers, so he didn’t have a vase, so Briony said she’d make due and plucked a couple of the gerbera daisies out of the bouquet, filled up a glass of water, cut the stems, and put them in the glass.  She put the glass in the centre of the table.  Fred bent over to smell them.
First all the sides went onto the table.  Everybody sat down politely and Tyler rubbed his hands together in anticipation as Briony carried over the turkey.  Auston even started clapping.  As she set it down, she looked at everything on the table and smiled.  “Bon appetite, y’all,” she said.
“WAIT!” Auston said, slapping Tyler’s hand away as it reached for the mashed potatoes.  “We need to take a picture for the ‘gram.”
Morgan rolled his eyes.  “Auston.”
“This is the first Canadian Thanksgiving where I’m not eating takeout Chinese food,” he said, standing up.  “I’m documenting this whether you like it or not.”
“Let me take the picture,” Briony said, standing up again and taking Auston’s phone from him.  “Teammates together for Thanksgiving.  The fans will go wild.”
Once she took the picture, Tyler reached for the mashed potatoes again.  “Okay, I’ve been waiting for this meal all day, so screw you guys but I’m calling dibs on half of the mashed potatoes.”
“Give me the beans,” Fred said.
“Who’s cutting the turkey?!” Auston worried.  
“Are those carrots?”
Auston was the first to leave.  He’d gotten a call, and the second he got it Morgan knew it was a girl by the way he looked at his phone.  He’d spent the next fifteen minutes texting and eventually, he broke it to everybody that he called an Uber.  Everybody called him out, but all he did was shrug his shoulders.  Briony made sure to pack him a Tupperware full of leftovers.  ‘Did you know Morgan and I bought this Tupperware together?’ he said to her, asking for more turkey.  Briony commended him for being a responsible adult, but when he revealed he hadn’t used them yet, she smacked his arm.  
Tyler left next.  He’d helped clean up, loading the dishwasher and helping Briony with preparing the Tupperware containers to go home to Auston, Fred, and himself.  For him, everything had to be covered in gravy.  ‘You’re a fucking champ for doing this,’ he said to her, giving her a big kiss on the cheek and a hug before he walked out the door.  He didn’t go for a booty-call, thankfully; he actually had an early morning appointment with one of the team’s trainers before they left for their next game in Dallas, and he wanted to get a decent amount of sleep.
Fred left last.  He lingered a little bit too long for Morgan’s liking, but Morgan knew he was doing it on purpose.  Fred had watched the entire night as Morgan made eyes at Briony and he wanted to torture Morgan for as long as possible.  Fred knew Morgan was probably going to jump Briony as soon as he left, and he wanted to make him wait.  Morgan wanted to kill him.  He made a mental note for payback against him sometime in the near future.
The entire dinner went off without a hitch.  Everyone laughed and shared stories and enjoyed the meal, and when Briony mentioned there was dessert – a homemade tiramisu – Tyler mentioned how he was in love and Auston unbuttoned his pants like an 80-year-old grandfather to “make more room”.  Despite them being his teammates and despite Auston concocting this whole idea when they could have just ordered food, Morgan truly did enjoy himself, and it did feel like their own version of a family, as weird as that sounded.  If he couldn’t be with his mom, dad, brother, and dog in Vancouver, then these were the people he’d want to spend the holiday with.  
“Thank you so much for hosting us,” Fred smiled as he stood at the doorway, slipping on his shoes.  “You’re a fantastic cook, Briony.”  He looked behind her to where Morgan was standing, with a look on his face that could only be described as ‘Fucking finally’.  “Thanks for having us over, Mo,” Fred smiled.
“You’re welcome,” Morgan said curtly.  He was gracious and glad that everything went well but right now he just needed Fred to leave.  
“When will I see you again, Briony?” Fred asked.  Morgan wanted to punch him.  Physically fight him right then and there.  The smile that adorned Fred’s face wasn’t a polite one or because he was mentioning seeing Briony again; it was because he knew how much he was annoying and torturing Morgan.  
“School is getting pretty busy, but I might make it to the game against St. Louis next Saturday.  Depends on how much I get done,” Briony said.
“Awesome!  Can’t wait,” he smiled.  “Mo, you have your alarm set already?” he procrastinated.
Morgan was going to explode.  “Yes Fredward.  Have a good night.”
“You guys take care,” he winked, mostly at Morgan, before opening the door behind him.  
Once it was closed, and once Morgan knew Fred had made his way down the hall, he looked at Briony.  She was leaning against the door, looking up at the ceiling, her eyes closed.  Taking in the moment.  Breathing in and out.  “That went well,” she whispered, almost to herself.  She looked at him, finally.  “Did you have fun?”  He nodded his head.  “And be honest.  Was the food good?”  He nodded his head again.  She cocked her head to the side and look at him strangely.  “Why’re you so quiet?”
“Just lookin’ at you,” he said, his voice low and quiet.  “Just admiring you.”
She didn’t say anything.  She didn’t have to.  When she saw the look in Morgan’s eyes, nothing that needed to be expressed in that moment could be said in words; it was only definable by actions.  He moved forward to grab her face, giving her a deep kiss, which she reciprocated readily.  They kissed for a while against the doorway, hot, steamy, wet kisses, like teenagers first learning how to make out and sticking their tongues down each other’s throats.  
Eventually Morgan’s hands started their favourite activity: roaming along her body and grabbing at her flesh, lifting her shirt up and over her head.  Exposing her black bra, Morgan dipped down and kissed his way towards her chest.  His hands grabbed her ass, pushing her against him so he could lift her up to gain better access.
She didn’t understand what he was doing at first; she didn’t actually think he’d want to do such a thing.  Despite still kissing him her mind wandered to being self-conscious about it despite him having already taken her shirt off.  “Morgan…” she mumbled against his lips.  His hands gripped even tighter.  “I’m gonna be too heav--”
“Shut it,” he demanded, and she gave in and he picked her up and it was just a visceral reaction, her wrapping her legs around him as he gripped at her ass and held her up.  She could feel him already hard underneath his pants.  He took no time in kissing and nipping at the skin along her collarbone, and eventually, he carried her to his bedroom where they fell into the bed as a mess of tangled limbs.  
His hands immediately went to her waist to unbutton her jeans, getting it done quickly and efficiently.  “Mo…” she breathed out, her voice heavy.  “Mo…”
He didn’t answer her; only continued to strip her of her jeans and throw them across the room.  She grabbed at his shirt and slipped it over his head quickly, thinking if she was getting naked he needed to, too.  He hooked his fingers into her underwear and slid them down her legs, throwing them in the same direction.  His fingers immediately went to her core, feeling how wet she already was.  
“Morgan,” she whined, the lower half of her body writhing at the sensation of his touch.  His fingers found their way quickly between her folds.  He dragged them up and down, teasing her.  
“That feel good?” he asked, his voice husky as he watched her bite her lip.  She nodded her head in response and that gave him permission to tease her even more.  He started to rub circles with his thumb, which garnered another gasp and a grinding of her hips towards his hand.  “You like when I touch you, don’t you.”
“Fuck Morgan, please,” she breathed out.
“Please what?” he applied the slightest bit of pressure before taking it away.
“Stop teasing me.”
“That’s no way to ask politely,” he slipped a finger along her core, but again only for a moment before taking it away again.
“Morgan.”
“What do you say?”
“Please stop teasing me.”
Her voice was so whiny he almost went crazy right then and there.  Instead of slipping his finger in, he separated her legs even more before moving down the bed and giving her a quick lick of his tongue.  She gasped in response, her hips rising from the bed, and he used his strong arms to settle her down.  He continued to lap and suck at her wetness and all she could do was let out a string of expletives and his name.  She couldn’t form a coherent thought.  Not when he was making her feel the way he was.  She tried to grind against his tongue, but the pressure he was applying to her hips in keeping her down made her unsuccessful; truthfully, the sensation of being able to move only slightly and relying on her pleasure coming mostly from him and his actions was a complete turn on.  
He worked at it long and hard.  He was spoiling her completely and they both knew it.  He was down there having the time of his fucking life, like he hadn’t eaten for days and he was absolutely starved.  He was steadfast in his effort and completely dedicated to making her feel the best she could.  She thought maybe he was a wizard with his tongue.  Maybe he was a deity or something.  Because the way he was making her feel, she could have sworn she was seeing stars.  She gripped at his hair and let out haggard breaths, unable to last much longer.  
“Mo…Mo I’m so close,” she said, her voice still whiny despite her throat so dry from the amount of moaning she was doing.  “Morgan…please…”
“Are you gonna cum for me?” he mumbled into her folds.  
“Y-Yes…” her breath hitched in her throat.  “It f-feels s-so good Morgan.”
“Then cum all over my face, baby.”
She lost it.  Completely, utterly lost it.  She tried to grind her hips again, but he continued to pin her down, and she was done for.  The feeling washed over her and she screamed his name, writhing as much as she could under his pressure, squeezing his head between her thighs.  But he didn’t stop.  He kept at it, continuing the feeling, and wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.  She was losing count over how many.  She lost herself completely.
Eventually it got to too much.  There was pleasure and then there was overstimulation, and she felt like she was going to have a heart attack.  She kept mumbling to stop, but she knew she wasn’t very convincing and he continued his actions.  After one more wave of pleasure, she exerted enough pressure to lift her hips away from his pressure, squeezing her thighs around his head once more since his mouth still hadn’t moved from her core.  “Mo…Morgan please…I’m going to have a fucking heart attack,” she breathed out.
When he finally let go, she looked down to see his face absolutely soaked, and she realized she was the fucking luckiest girl alive.  He came up and began kissing her, and she could taste herself on his lips.  
“Briony,” he said in between kisses.
“Mhm?” she was still unable to speak from earlier.  
“Can I confess something?”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t take it slow anymore.”
She knew exactly what he meant.  It was her words he was using, after all.  “Yeah,” was the only thing she could muster.
“I’m not saying I’m gonna post you all over my Instagram.  Far from it, actually.  I’ll probably be even more protective.  But I can’t…I don’t want to not put a label on this.  You’re my girl.  In every sense of the word, you’re my girl.”
She nodded her head.  She was still feeling dizzy from earlier but she knew she wanted this.  She knew this was something that was good for her.  “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes.  Okay,” she nodded her head, bringing him down to kiss her again.  Considering the situation, and considering she could still taste herself on his lips, she couldn’t help but laugh.  “You’re doing this because I’m in a vulnerable state right now,” she giggled.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked nervously, pulling away slightly.
“You just sucked my soul out through my vagina and now you want me to call you my boyfriend.  I see the game you’re playing.”
Morgan snorted.  “Did you want me to stop sucking your soul out of your vagina?”
“NO,” she said quickly, giving him a look.  “Don’t you ever utter those words again, Mr. Rielly.”  He let her flip him over easily so he was lying down and she was straddling him.  She reached over to the top drawer of his bedside table and took out a condom.  Even though she was on the pill, he appreciated the extra precaution.  He raised his head slightly to put his face between her breasts, capturing a nipple in his mouth.  She ripped the packaging open and slid the condom on delicately, pumping him a few times before she rolled it on.  
She guided him to her entrance and lowered herself onto him slowly.  Though this was far from the first time they’d had sex, she always took it slow to adjust to his size.  She figured it stroked Morgan’s ego a little bit, but she really did have to do it.  “Fuck Briony,” he mumbled as she began to rock back and forth slowly.  He always called her by her full name during sex; it was part of what got her off quickly, she thought.  “You always feel so good for me.  So fucking good.”
She smiled as she increased her pace, developing a steady rhythm as she rocked back and forth.  His hands were everywhere, but mostly on her hips, guiding them back and forth, or trailing up towards her breasts.  He propped himself on his elbows, giving him a bit of height to kiss her again and have his face in her breasts while she continued to ride him.  Eventually he pulled her down so her chest was flush with his as he pumped in and out of her.
“Oh fuck Morgan,” she gasped, relishing the feeling.  “Morgan…Morgan…”
“You like that, don’t you,” he mumbled before biting down on her neck lightly.
“Harder, Morgan.”
He practically growled, some sort of internal switch going off upon hearing her request.  He wrapped his arm tightly around her body before flipping their bodies on the bed, so it was now her below him.  He began pounding into her, burying his face into her neck, and between the pants, the moans, the screaming, and the squeaking of the bedframe from the sheer force, it wasn’t long before they both lost control.  Briony came undone yet again, and even though it felt like the millionth time that night, it was just as good as the first – she wasn’t exactly complaining.  Morgan, for his part, kept going for as long as he could, but the moment he felt her nails scratching his back, he was done for.  Briony relished the feeling of him twitching inside of her, knowing that she was the one who did that to him, that she was the one who made him feel that way.  
Morgan collapsed onto her gently, feeling completely spent, his cock still inside her as it softened.  Her legs were still wrapped around his torso lazily.  He felt like a blanket; a warm blanket completely enveloping her body, and she whimpered when he had to pull out and leave her to dispose of the condom.  
When he finished, he cuddled back into her body, giving her a long, lingering kiss.  “You’re fucking incredible.  You know that?” his voice was worn out.  
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she chuckled slightly.  “You make me feel so good, Morgan.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” he said, slipping a hand down in between them to feel her warm core.  She jolted at the sensation, still so sensitive.  “You’re always so fucking wet for me baby.”
“Always.  Just for you,” she whispered.  
“Fuck,” he kissed her again.  “This road trip hasn’t even fucking started yet and I already want it to be over.”
Briony grumbled, upset at the reminder.  She didn’t want to think about that right now.  Morgan slipped his thigh in between her legs and she rubbed up against it briefly before he laid his head on her chest, just above her breasts.  She began to play with his hair, running her fingers through it, before they both settled into a peaceful slumber.
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themclovenlegacy · 6 years
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In light of the new Nathema update, I’ve decided to write a fic about Oddosal and his future husband Theron.
Side note: this fic has absolutely nothing to do with the new update, it just about a moment in time between these two sometime after Ziost. I haven’t written in a long time so…its probably gonna be bad. I don't care though, cuz this is my third post and its 2;30 in the morning. ill be less weird in the morning.
Here it is...
Theron stared out the window and over the horizon of Tatooine, admiring the view of the two suns as they set at dust. He closed his eyes as the peace he didn’t know he was missing settled over him. It had been a long time since he felt this way, or ever if he remembered correctly. But he had here, even if here was actually the stronghold of one of the most powerful Sith in Empire.
It had been months since he had last seen Oddosal. Since Ziost, it had been difficult to keep up with him. He had been put on leave for his actions and that left him under near constant surveillance when he was at the office. Well, he wasn't proud at what he done back then, but he thought it was a good idea at the time. Anything to protect the Republic from the emperor, right.
What surprised him though was Oddosal and his behavior in those last moments he was with him. Being an imperial citizen and a member of the Dark Council, it would be wise for him to look for different ways to improve the Empire and stop the Emperor and, though he hated to admit it, that could have been possible if he had taken Master Surro with him to do, what he knew to be, an intense and intrusive experiment on her mind to find information. Instead, he let her go with him. He know Lana was seething, and beside her complaint when he was there, he wasn't sure if she would dare to question him twice after he left.
One thing he did know was that Odd’s wasn’t like any Sith he had ever met before, or probably would ever meet again.
Which lead him to his current position. After months of administrative leave, then returning to the field with the condition that he would have to routinely check in with a partner, he was allowed more freedom. He’d be ashamed to admit it but one of the first things he did was check up on his not-so-lover. He even fiddled with the communicator he receive upon their last meeting on Yavin 4, wondering what it would be like if he actually used it, even though he should have did the right thing and turned it over to be tracked and possibly used to help the Republic.
After several weeks of this, he decided that using caution wasn't one of his strong points anyway and the worst that could happen was...well...he’d rather not think about it. So, while relaxing in his private quarters on Coruscant, making sure no one would drop in and hear anything, he type in the frequency and waited for someone to answer. He was surprised someone picked up, and even more so when he saw who it was.
Staring back at him was Cipher Nine, a legend and a ghost even in the Republic. Their eyes met, her red ones to his green, her expression clearly bemused.
“Theron Shan?” she said quizzically.
“Uh…”
All of a sudden, her eyes widen incredulously before she started laughing, her blue face flushing in amusement. He watch in confusion as she wiped the tears from her eyes from laughing so hard. When she spoke again, she let out little chuckles to herself.
“I can’t believe...she was...I thought he was insane...but here you are...and...I owe her hundred credits now,” she muttered out. Clearly whatever she was talking about involved him and possibly a bet.
“Uh...I think I have to wrong frequency. I’ll just…,” he paused, rubbing his forehead nervously.
“No, No. This is the right one. Shaynasa gave you this holo, right” she questioned? All he could do was nodded.
“Then you got it right. You’re probably wondering why it called me in the first place. Well long story short, Me, Shay, Oddosal have worked together for a while so I owe them.” Theron just stared wide-eyed.
“Soooo, I’m guessing you wanna meet up with him then. Missing those muscled arms at night? That burning gaze? That tall sta…”
“Ok I get it,” Theron rubbed his redden face with a sigh as she snickered, “Normally, I would want to know how he got someone who literally doesn’t exist anymore to work with him, but I'm not really surprised by it. So, since we’re here, I wanna...uh.”
“See him.”
“...Possibly.”
“Well, Possibly, I have news for you. He wants to see you just as bad so you're in luck. You’re not the only one who’s been keeping tabs on their significant other. Odd can’t stand not knowing you’re ok. For a man so powerful and lived the type of carefree lifestyle he had before, it's a wonder he commits so much time to your wellbeing,” she shrugs.
He was speechless. Just knowing that he wasn't the only one looking out for whatever they had left him feeling funny inside.
“Since this is happening, I have one thing to clear up first,” she continued on. Suddenly, her eyes harden and she spoke icily, “Should you do anything to hurt him in any kind of way, you will regret it. You got that?”
All he could do was nod his head in shock and agreement.
“Good, now let get you two lovebirds in the same room.”
After some weird planning, it was decided that Tatooine, due to their laxer laws would be the place to meet. Theron wasn't so sure about how they were going to get him there and since there wasn't many missions coming out of Tatooine right now, he didn't want to look suspicious asking about it.
“Let me handle that,” the cipher had said with an ominous grin.
Theron really didn’t believe anything would come of that call. How was she gonna get him alone Tatooine? He had his doubts, but not even a week later he was on a ship to Tatooine. The director apparently just learned of a contact, a bounty hunter who worked with someone under the dark council who had information exchange for safety. Usually the director didn’t go for missions like this, but whatever the information was it’s important and it was a time sensitive mission and he was suddenly the only available person that could go. However, the director informed him during the trip over, due to the planets mostly uncharted nature, he was instructed that communication would be limited to priority and emergency call only.
So there he was on a speeder to an undisclosed location where upon his arrival met his next surprise. A blaster pointed at his face. He followed the blaster up the arm and to the blue face of the renowned Great Hunter. They stared at each other for a moment from she rolled her red eyes and holstered her blaster.
“If you were a bounty right now, you’d be dead. My sister said you were reckless, but for a spy, I didn’t think you’d be this stupid too.”
“Uh…”
“Love makes you dumb, yeah yeah. No time for small talk, I'm on hunting vacation with my husband and my little sister is lucky I kind of like her a little. Now move.”
Theron didn’t time to respond as he pushed onto another speeder and they sped away.
Once they arrived she gave him the passcode and unlocked security for him.
“Big Bad won’t be here for a few more hours, so get comfortable. Also should you decide to explore, don’t go into the big dome building, Shay keeps her pets there and some are mean. Some rooms are private so they’ll be locked. Need anything ask the droids. Bye.”
With that as quick as she was here, she was gone, leaving him alone.
Leaning over the lounge couch lining along the walls, he continued to watch the beauty in the sky. Since he’d gotten here, he’d roamed the surrounding area, steering clear of the dome when he heard a loud roar. Most rooms were locked, but some that weren’t contained bedrooms suites or libraries and artifacts.
Upon returning to the lounging area, he marveled at the fact that there was no sand in this area even with the open outlook in front of him. He discovered that due to some type of tech, perhaps a field generator?, nothing came in or fall out of the area. He tested this by tossing a pebble at it. He was about to try again, but a droid abruptly appeared and  ‘politely’ reminded him some places are hard to clean and would appreciate it if him stopped.
So he just relaxed and finished up on some work he had been putting off. Some time later, he heard the locks disengage and the door slide open. He looked up and saw Oddosal, Shaynasa and his crew enter. Oddosal paused by the door as his crew mates wandered off towards their quarters. As the crew entered the elevator to the lower levels, Shay smirked and winked at him as the door slide closed.
Finally after months without seeing each other, they were finally alone. Theron stood from his seat and stared at Oddosal, before looking down at his feet. He looked back up to say something and stepped back, almost falling back down into his seat, as Oddosal was suddenly standing in front of him, eyes baring down at him. They stared at each other, studying each other’s faces. Theron realized that Odd’s eyes were more a burnt orange now then the blazing yellow they were when he last saw him.
“I…” Theron started.
Suddenly, Theron’s lips were captured in a hungry kiss and he was lifted up into strong arms. He wrapped his arms around Odd’s neck and legs around his hips as he was carried across the room to an adjacent one. As he the door slid open and closed behind them, he decided they could talk later.
***
Theron slowly blinked his eyes open at the sound of a holo beeping. He heard a groan behind him, before an arm stretched over him and cut it off. The room return to silence as Odd nuzzled back into him. He sighed and closed eyes again, comforted by the arm thrown over his waist.
“Sorry, alarm,” Odd mumbled into his neck. Theron just smiled sleepily.
“I wish we can be like this more,” he sighed as he turned around in Oddosal’s arms, rubbing across his bare chest. Oddosal grinned and leaned over to kiss him. They both hummed at the kiss before they pulled apart.
“This is really weird for me.” Theron said. “I’m not use to whatever this is between us. I don’t know...I mean... I…”
He was silenced by a peck on the lips.
“Let’s just spend what time we have together. No worries, no Empire, no Republic. Just us. We aren’t here for either of those things so let’s just enjoy where we are for now,” Oddosal whispered into his neck before nipping at it.
Theron moaned softly and just stared up at the ceiling as Oddosal buried into his neck pressing more kisses there.
“You’re weird.”
Oddosal just laughed and rolled on top of him, kissing him into submission. Theron just closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Odd’s neck as he worked his way down his chest. Well, if something goes wrong he’ll deal with it later. He’s here now so he’s just going to enjoy this time he has. Though, he should probably worry about what he was going to tell the director now.
“Ouch!” Theron looked at Odd as he pull away from him with a deadpan stare.
“You’re thinking too much again.” he said, kissing him after. Theron gripped the back of his head as they kissed hungrily. Theron thought, ‘yeah, he was’ and let his mind go blank.
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epersonae · 6 years
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ye olde liner notes
A whole bunch of meta for The Truth or Something Beautiful, which @magcretia and I posted two months ago? Sure why not? 
It’s hecking long, so more under the cut....
Elaine: so I guess at this point (almost 2 months later) this is more of a retrospective, yeah? But we both want to take a look at how this thing happened, so it's all good.
Kath: Yeah, I mostly thought it’d be useful to us as we’re working on this big WIP of [redacted] where there’s gonna be some intense feelings to kind of take some “emotional inventory” for Taako and Lucretia, and maybe also ourselves? And remind ourselves where we came from and where we’re trying to go.
E: I think we were both pretty wiped out after finishing this, so a little distance is good. I’m trying to remember what the bit was where we decided, fuckit let’s just publish after trying to cut and then put back blah blah blah? Was it “But we — we keep choosing Forsake,” ? We cut because it seemed like a weird turn, but then it turned out to be important?
K: I think it felt like a beat we were hitting without it flowing naturally there, which happens sometimes? But I think with these two, there just isn’t always a flow, because they’re in their own heads so much and say so little of what they need to say aloud. So a lot of times it just comes out abruptly and feels uncomfortable, which isn’t pretty, but it’s true to life. And a LOT of writing this was uncomfortable, I think.
E: Ok, I’ll just dive right into that, then. We both went into this thinking it was going to be an easier conversation than Find the One Safe Way and NOOOOOOOOPE.
K: YEAH UHHH LOL.
E: I had this moment of absolute low where I thought: we broke it, the thing that we thought we’d fixed, we absolutely just broke it, and personally (hi overidentifying with Lucretia) I just kept thinking WOW that was a mistake bringing up Lup.
K: Yeah, I had that same feeling, and I remember talking about it with you like “do we scratch this? Are we really going to keep this?” and I think it was that uncertainty of letting Taako and Lucretia do what they do, the same way we wrote Safe Way, that was scary.
E: these chucklefucks. And the moment where Lucretia dives to the bottom of the pool and, look, I try really hard to stay away from the suicidal stuff when I write Lucretia, I’m just too soft to really handle it, but I was right there in it. (which was super surreal having those feelings at work, LET ME TELL YOU) But I had to trust that “no way out but through” was going to work.
So, ok, this “How could you not do something?”  hit me, personally, so hard I could hardly breathe, because duh, of course. sigh
K: So, that all started from your coke!Taako fic, The Mirror, which really stuck with me for… clearly a long time, for a lot of reasons, but I hadn’t really explored those feelings until I started writing my longfic, Another Beach Year. And in ABY, in a scene that I never finished and probably never will, Taako has a nightmare that’s actually a memory of Sizzle It Up days, where Lucretia was watching him from the crowd (as she did in The Mirror) and she sees just how messed up he is, how poorly he’s doing, and she does nothing. And I think that stuck with me even though this series isn’t necessarily in either of those continuities, and I wanted to incorporate that, because I feel that a lot of times the Taako and Lucretia conflict is boiled down to the “you made me forget my sister” thing, and that’s not the whole thing. At least for us, (ESPECIALLY for us?) it’s, “you were my best friend, and you did all that, and you knew I was doing badly, and you still didn’t do anything.” And I think Taako didn’t know how to articulate that in any way that wasn’t accusatory, but it was (and I am biased) perhaps deserved? Definitely necessary, regardless.
E: So I think what made that as difficult as it was on my end was that she felt bad about what had happened, but what she was sorry for wasn’t the thing that was hurting him the most. She thought she knew but she had no idea. I don’t even know how to articulate the dawning horror of “I’ve been sorry about the wrong thing this whole time” except I guess how I actually did? And I think of Lucretia as someone who very much wants to be able to fix things, to make a plan that comes through and improves everything, and to be hit with “this is bad and I can’t do anything about that” is a heavy hit.
K: Mmm. I think it’s hard for Taako to admit that he’s hurting at all, so when he does, it’s kind of a “well I guess while we’re doing this, I’ll get it all out” deal. And so he has all of these feelings about the forgetting, and about Lup, and about a decade being essentially a shell of himself, but what we’re bringing to the table here is this added dimension of their relationships with Magnus, and consequently their friendship with each other. So I think it’s almost easy to lose sight of what exactly he’s hurting about and default to the Lup stuff (and, wow, yeah, there’s so much more there that in True Taako Fashion, even I am avoiding) but fixing the Lup stuff still won’t fix the Lucretia stuff, because he has his memories back. It’s not the forgetting that’s hurting him now, it’s the betrayal.
E: “it’s hard for Taako to admit” — so this. At one point, I was questioning whether he really would have pruney fingers (from the pool) because the amount of actual dialogue wasn’t long enough, and one of the curious things about this whole thing is how much goes unspoken. They take soooo much time to say honestly the briefest things. It’s tremendously frustrating, on some level, because god just say a thing already but it’s also artistically satisfying because it feels true to them, that they dance around their feelings until something just breaks. Usually because I have Lucretia just blurt out some godawful thing. (There’s a bit in the WIP where it’s WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT, but I just feel it.) Of course Lucretia would ask if he’s talked to Lup, and then instantly regret having asked.
K: Oh no girl she didn’t ask, she just abruptly said “I’m sorry about Lup,” which is maybe? Possibly? The worst thing she could have done in that moment. Which makes for good radio but not a good emotional state LOL.
E: Ha, I was thinking about the bit later.
K: YEAH. TWICE. OK LUCRETIA. I think it really does attest to how much she wants to fix things, and all her good intentions, but she can’t do it her way. That way doesn’t work with Taako… They’re the same in that they can’t handle being blindsided with feelings, but that doesn’t stop either of them from doing it to each other? And that’s why these conversations keep happening with the intensity that they do, is they have such a hard time navigating those feelings in the first place. To which we just say, at this point: these chucklefucks.
E: With so much love, but yeah. I can’t believe we thought this one was going to be more lighthearted. Because they were less defensive, maybe? Safe Way they were both on guard because it was a planned encounter, but this was accidental.
K: And they were getting along. For pages, it was like, wow, fuck, this feels good, they’re chatting? Laughing? Together? And then it was, (and wow this is a theme, huh?) talking about family, and ultimately Angus, that caused this whole… thing.
E: There’s so much I have to say about Angus in [redacted], because I’ve fallen headlong into the idea that out of all the adults in his life, Lucretia and Taako are the most parental. But even here, he’s almost a proxy for all this other stuff that’s hanging between them. The theft of the silverware ends up being about what Taako is like on his own, and how Lucretia made her friends into her employees. Angus as a kid on his own is both a thing that Lucretia feels guilty about and a reminder to Taako of his own childhood, and being a kid with Lup.
K: And that was something that I really only scratched the surface of here, because I think that feeling runs deep for Taako. And I think it’s not only why Taako winds up as the parental figure that he is in our timeline, but it’s also why he is so insistent on doing what he can to give Ango a normal life, or to somehow make up for the time Ango spent “alone,” so to speak. It’s hard to articulate, but Taako definitely feels a kinship with Ango in that way, and I think he is projecting some of his own feelings about his own hardships of childhood onto Lucretia? In the way that he blames her for… kind of many things lol. It’s something I want to explore separately later on, for sure.
E: Something that I’m noticing on re-read is that they have this common thread of “you’re the only person I can tell how shitty I know I am” — that might not be exactly it, but something in that neighborhood. That they look at themselves and think “I’m not a good person,” and everybody else is yeah yeah whatever, but they can say it to each other. Which is kinda fucked up, but interesting.
K: YES. I think for Taako it’s mostly “I can say I’m a shitty person to you because there’s very little shit that I could do that’s worse than what you did to me!” Which, yeah, fucked up and interesting lol. And for Lucretia, probably “You already know I’m a shitty person and are the first to tell me so, so I’ll say it anyway”?
E: I don’t think she means it to be calculated, but there’s definitely an aspect of “I’ll admit to it before you accuse me” on her part. I also sometimes see a bit of “you helped make me this shitty” from Taako. And for both of them, they feel like they’re comparing themselves to the people they see as whole-heartedly good, ie Magnus and Lup. (Having this set in Magnus’s yard turned out to be a hell of a thing.)
K: Yeah, I think Taako is a bit more calculated about it, but also I think he’s always been quicker to admit that he’s not really good. (Justin saying “Taako’s not a good person, though, Taako’s not a good person,” on air was like. A LOT to take in. But also, my qualms with Justin’s Canon are well known lol.) I don’t think Taako’s a bad person. I think I summed it up nicely through Kravitz in The Way We Really Are, where he basically says “we’re not good, we’re not bad, we just are.” I think Taako really needed to hear that, especially considering he is Constantly Comparing Himself to everyone else around him, and he honestly believes everyone around him is just… Good. Capital G Good. It’s hard not to compare yourself to your twin.
E: They both have this comparison thing that WOW do I relate to, and actually that circles all the way around back to the thing that was such a difficult editing experience: Trust or Forsake. It was sort of a sideways swerve in the conversation, but it’s such a good metaphor. That they’re both good at calculating the odds and thinking in a very pragmatic way, but then experience the feelings backlash later. They’re both coping with the “rush of shame”, as you put it.
K: I was about to say, I always seem to gravitate back to the robot world, with Taako’s “Am I the only pragmatist here?” and how that was the only time we ever saw him actively disagreeing with Lup. The fact that he was almost angry with her there really stuck with me, and subsequently how he conceded after and promised (with the rest of the team) not to get “scary” like that again. It stick with me, and because of that, it sticks with Taako. I think he feels guilty for a lot of stuff that he knows had to be done. And for that reason, he and Lucretia have a lot in common.
E: That’s one of the core theses of our work together, this commonality. And it’s always such a visceral pleasure to play on that in the interior monologue. Maybe most of all in the new things/good things bit? (Bringing in Kravitz always makes me cry.)
K: Any excuse to bring in Krav. And it was really nice for me to tie him in with a callback to one of your pieces (which you gifted to me!) that was also mentioned in Safe Way. We’ve done a lot of talking outside of our works about how the seven, but particularly Taako and Lucretia, didn’t wind up with the lives they expected, but they wound up with something new and good, and I think that’s a big part of how Taako arrives at his conclusion of “we can’t fix this but we can build something new, maybe.” He knows the power of these new good things, and perhaps the Newest and the Best thing is Kravitz.
E: As I’m thinking about this, and rereading that part in particular, I’m actually reminded of some personal conversations that we’ve had, and this conclusion that they get to resonates: there’s a lot of Bad Shit in the past, and we’re/they’re kind of broken, but there’s enough good now to keep going. Which is a pretty …….. weird? conclusion to end up at, but for me personally it’s oddly hopeful. That it’s better to keep trying than to give up.
K: For sure. I think part of what attracts me to Taako as a character is that he’s the embodiment of the “third option.” Like, no matter how much shit is absolutely fucked, he finds some way to break the game and get the hell out of dodge (and sometimes save the day. But only sometimes.) And I think despite the fact that he struggles so much afterwards (and… basically all of that is my own doing bc lol projecting on fic) he still manages to find a lot of good. It reminds me of a thing you tagged me in that said something like “you don’t have to be hopeful about the future, you just have to be curious enough about what could happen if you stick around” which really rang true for me personally. And for Taako, I think it’s almost a matter of “well, my life was buckwild enough so far, might as well see it through.” (The ravishing boyfriend is a plus, tho.)
E: And honestly, Kravitz’s presence in Taako’s life is something that Lucretia cherishes as well, not that she can take credit for it, obviously, but seeing him happy makes her feel a little better about how everything went down.
K: Absolutely, and I think that gratitude comes through in some small moments in both of our individual works, as early as To New Beginnings which I wrote in October (!) and perhaps even before that? But I feel like there’s this unspoken understanding, almost, between Kravitz and Lucretia (which also came through in Copper for Your Thoughts, in a way) that I think comes with the territory of being the wise characters they are, always laden with such gravitas lol.
E: To zag on you: THE TEA? (which, actually, I’ve never had rose tea, I don’t think? But you made it a Lucretia thing in To New Beginnings at least, and it crossed over into this continuity.) This is another “third option” that changed the whole thing, and I love it.
K: Hah, I never even thought about the symbolic “third option” for tea. (There’s a lot of threes with these three, lol.) Rose tea tastes how roses smell, and it’s weird, but I’m kind of into it? It just always felt like a Lucretia thing to me. BUT YEAH THE TEA, I was having him transmute the juice into tea and I was gonna have him make rose tea, but he already did that in Safe Way, so I was sitting there musing for a minute and thought, oh, what if they had Magnus’s tea? (Oolong, if you’re playing along at home.) And then it hit me: oh, I don’t even know what kind of tea Taako drinks, because he’s always making two cups of whatever the other person wants, which I then raised to you outside of the doc, which then we were both just kinda like “oh… fuck… that’s a thing now” lol.
But I do want to go a little deeper into that, bc I think about it a lot, how Taako isn’t good at saying how he feels. This is known. And that’s another aspect that draws me to him, because wow, fucking same. I used to have quite a knack for naming my emotions, and then somewhere along the line I kind of lost that. And it’s not just about the negative. It’s absolutely a Thing to have a hard time showing people how you feel positively. And I think a lot about that in my own life and have done musing on “love languages” and all that jazz and I think for Taako, he does that in really subtle ways. Doing little things that he almost hopes people won’t even notice. He doesn’t want that “aw that’s so sweet” reaction. He just wants to make that person feel good and move on— which is quite different from the showboating Taako from TV. It’s an interesting contradiction that was so nice to be able to explore so naturally here. Lucretia’s spent a century with him and it hits her all at once that she’s never had the tea he likes, because he’s always taking part in hers. It’s so meaningful and says so much about him. (And maybe he’s not as Bad as he thinks.)
E: And she absolutely notices, first with the mugs — which AAAAAAAAAH the Moon’s Best Director mug, please — because it’s such a little detail that shows that he’s paying attention to her and to her relationship with Magnus, and then the tea and what that means. Again: trust. That she’s going to not try to protect herself or hide from him, she’s going to trust that she can be open and let what happens happen. Ok, I also have to say, we haven’t talked much about the actual process of writing, but the part where Taako says he’s sorry, I read that in the grocery store and then I just wandered the aisles in a daze for like 10 minutes trying to even figure out her response. (In the vein of “leaning into the feeling”, that sound that might’ve been oh or no was literally me in the frozen food aisle.) But they pull back from that brink so quickly! And I think what we’re both noticing in really digging into this again is how actually unresolved it is.
K: I am a big fan of Observant Taako, who cares very deeply but won’t admit it. Even if he’s not in a good place with Lucretia, I think at this point he’s moved forward for his own sake and everyone else’s sake enough that he can appreciate that she makes Magnus happy, and at least that much they will always have in common.
But um, yeah, that apology. It’s loaded, and it’s (appropriately) multi-dimensional. I had Taako feeling sorry during Safe Way, and not understanding why, and not being able to say it. And so here, he feels it again, and he’s ready to say it, but he still doesn’t know why. And it partially comes from a personal place, but it also comes from a lack of emotional literacy when Taako is taking stock of his own feelings? It’s a complicated apology that (you pointed this out, really) he thinks is surface-level for the emotional distress this conversation caused (re: “you spooked me” etc) but in reality it’s more than that. But the rest might be [redacted] here bc I’d like to explore that more in later installments. But yeah, the way they wrap up is… more unresolved than I ever realized? Like reading this back, they didn’t talk about half the shit they brought up, they kind of just threw it out into the arena. Which, for Taako, is more of a “well nothing else is gonna budge til I talk to Lup” thing.
E: In a way, it’s good to see how everything is still so half-formed, because it resonates so nicely as we get into [redacted]. It makes some of the interpersonal weirdness? unevenness? that comes out make actually a lot more sense. Also, if I may say it again for the Nth time: THESE CHUCKLEFUCKS. 
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wittyy-name · 7 years
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Writer Tag
It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these, but I’m in the mood for it, so let’s go! Thanks @dimplesandcurlsss for the tag!! If you guys haven’t checked out their work, you totally should. I love it, and they’re so sweet.
1) How many works do you currently have in progress?
UMMMMMMM...... A LOT, LMAO. Fic-wise, I have Shut up and Dance With Me (which is soon to be over, thank god), The Marks We Make, and Shadow of the Past. I’m excited for these projects to finish so I can start new (and shorter) ones. I have a lot of ideas. Original project wise, I have a novel that I’m in the process of (and stuck) editing, as well as an online illustrated novel that I’m planning with @wolfpainters. And then I usually always have some kind of work project in process. So... yeah, a lot of projects. A lot of writing. This is my life.
2) Do you/ would you write fanfiction?
I write far too much, if I’m being honest. But it makes me happy, and I’ll take any ounce of happiness I can get.
3) Do you prefer paper books or ebooks?
If it’s fanfiction, reading online doesn’t bother me. I read on my phone for those, and I don’t mind. However, when it comes to book-books, I prefer paper books all the way. There’s just something good and wholesome about holding a physical book in your hand. The smell, the feeling of it, the whole atmosphere of it. Love it.
4) When did you start writing?
I think... on some level, I’ve always been writing?? Like, I can’t pinpoint when I started, but I used to start projects all the time with friends throughout my childhood. I planned a novel with a friend of mine when we were, like, eleven or twelve?? However, I wrote my first novel length story fifteen-sixteen. IT’S BAD AND MY WRITING HAS IMPROVED SO MUCH. But I did it, and that’s what matters.
5) Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with?
Yeah! @wolfpainters has become my go-to for reading validation. She reads p much everything I write as I write it, and let’s me know that I’m not crazy and that it’s actually good. Like, idk what I’d do without her. Idk HOW I managed to produce anything before her. I’m so reliant on her tbh, lmAO. But now I’ve also got my whole squad who are willing to read my stuff and give me good feedback, and I’m v comfortable sharing with them, too.
6) Where is your favorite place to write?
In order to write, I HAVE to be in a VERY SPECIFIC position. Like, my laptop has to be on my lap, my arms have to be relaxed and falling naturally on the keys, and I usually like my feet propped up on something. This is just my comfortable position, and for some reason I find it hard to write any other way. As for WHERE. I prefer to write outside. That’s where I get the most done. Outside. Which is why it sucks in the dead of winter or in the height of summer.
7) Favorite childhood book
OH LORD, HERE WE GO. I used to read A LOT when I was younger. So let’s go with just the few that I remember loving and that have stuck with me this long: Harry Potter, Tithe, Hawksong, Dragon Bait, Dealing with Dragons, Seventh Tower, His Dark Materials Trilogy. And just... so much more. But those are the ones I remember, and the ones I’ve read multiple times. And the ones I’d go back and read again still today. Maybe I should... hmmmm...
8) Writing for fun or writing for publication?
Both, in all honesty. I write for fun, but the end game is writing for fun AND publication. 
9) Pen and paper or computer?
I love to and have to outline and plan out ideas by hand. It helps me think and organize better that way. I have a journal for all that. But when it comes to writing, I haVE to write on the computer. By hand is too slow and I get too impatient when it comes to actually writing.
10) Have you ever taken any writing classes?
I majored in English with a double concentration in Creative Writing and Professional Writing, soooo... yeah, yeah I have, lmAO. I’ll tell you this tho: I learned absolutely NOTHING in my creative writing classes. They did NOTHING to develop my writing voice, style, or confidence. Professional writing was infinitely more helpful for pretty much everything. 
11) What inspires you to write?
Honestly... everything. That sounds so vague, but like.... EVERYTHING. The whole REASON that I’m a writer is because I’ve ALWAYS been inspired. I used to spend car rides, the time before I slept, in class, just living through stories in my head. Fantasy stories, making shit up, continuing old plot lines. I had so many stories bouncing around in my head at literally all times, and that’s what made me want to be a writer. To get those ideas OUT and somewhere that I could share with others. I’m still like that to this day. I’m p much ALWAYS thinking about a story. It’s what my brain diverts to if left alone for any length of time. I see art, bam, ideas. I do something, bam, ideas. I hear people talk, bam, ideas. I have dreams, bam, ideas. IT’S A PROBLEM WHEN EVERYTHING INSPIRES YOU.
I’ve also found that like... I have a growing tendency to memorialize my memories in the form of fiction?? Like, some people take pictures, and some people journal, and I turn my experiences into fiction to remember them. The Marks We Make is basically a cornucopia of my college experiences hidden in a soumate au. My family went to New Zealand for my dad’s ironman race, and I spent the whole time figuring out how to turn my experiences into a klance oneshot (What We Make of It). I went to a concert with my brother and spent the whole time memorizing everything to turn into another klance oneshot (Moth and Flame). It’s just... how I remember things. By turning my experiences into writing.
I’ll go ahead and tag some of my writer friends. No pressure, guys. Just if you’re bored and wanna talk about yourselves, lmao. @princedeadend, @wardenalistair, @purpleneutrino, @bowiesnippleantennae, @charmkvark, @marmoraskeith, @zizzani and anyone else who wants to have at it
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