#I say “chapters 5 & 6” because I’m not sure yet whether this will be more of a “end of chapter 5” or “start of chapter 6” scene lol

[king-candybug-backup]

He’s fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. Translation: His world is slowly crumbling down around him lmaooo

We love a man’s deteriorating mental stability in chapters 5 & 6 😂 (NOT THAT HE HAD MUCH TO BEGIN WITH FVGHVFJH)

@victorgraves I wanted you to know that writing KCB gradually losing his marbles by the minute makes me think of you, fellow enjoyer of psychological damage infliction 😂 <3333

Update: Chapter 5 is out, sorry, looks like it's gonna be a Chapter 6 thing for the full breakdown lmaoooo

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝙀𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙔𝙤𝙪 - Pt. 5

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

【Ａ/Ｎ】⦂ OMG I FORGOT TO POST THIS CHAPTER!! I just posted a smut as part 5 but it's really part six 😭😭 I'm so mad please read this one and THEN read the smut chapter which is really part 6!!

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】⦂ (Unspecified) Variant!Mark Grayson x Reader

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】⦂ None

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】⦂ None

→【Ｐａｒｔ　Ｆｏｕｒ】←

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The quiet buzz of conversation and the clinking of cups filled the cafe as you wiped down the counter, trying to focus on the task at hand. It had become routine now. The town had started to heal, bit by bit, and the small cafe had become a lifeline for many of the workers rebuilding it. You’d found some comfort in the familiarity, the simple rhythm of serving coffee and tea to those who were bringing the town back to life. You were, in a strange way, starting to feel like you belonged here—like things weren’t quite as broken.

But that peace never lasted long.

A sudden stillness fell over the cafe. The kind of silence that didn’t come from a quiet room, but from fear. The air grew thick, and every person in the cafe went still, like they were holding their breath. You didn’t need to look out the window to know who had arrived. The way people dropped their conversations, the way their posture stiffened, it was unmistakable.

Invincible was here.

You stood frozen for a moment, feeling the dread creep up your spine. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his presence even from a distance. His power—his control—it cast a shadow over everything. Slowly, you turned toward the door, and sure enough, he entered.

Mark stepped through the door with his usual commanding presence, the sunlight behind him casting his figure in a sharp silhouette. He didn’t even glance at the workers who immediately bowed their heads or averted their gaze. His eyes were locked on you as he approached the counter, and though his expression was calm, there was something else there—something that made your chest tighten. Something that felt... like a weight.

You could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t here for a casual visit. This was not about the cafe or the workers. This was about you.

He stood in front of you, his eyes lingering on yours before his gaze shifted down to the counter. “I’ll have a tea,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge of something else—something unreadable.

You raised an eyebrow, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. “A tea?” you asked, your tone dripping with incredulity. “Don’t you have chefs and servants who can make you one? Why come all the way down here?”

Mark’s lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “Of course, it’s not about the tea,” he said, his voice low and purposeful. “I could have anyone bring me a tea, but... I wanted to see you.”

You met his gaze, feeling a sudden rush of emotions surge through you. He had made his presence known, as always, yet something about the way he said that last part made you feel like a part of him was desperately reaching out. But you weren't sure whether it was because of you—or the version of you he once knew.

You started preparing the tea, still trying to wrap your mind around the sudden shift in his demeanor. He hadn’t come here for tea. He’d come for something else.

“I’ve been watching,” Mark continued, his voice carrying a hint of something unspoken. “This town. It’s... it’s different. You’ve made it different. More alive, even with all the devastation. The people here—they’re starting to rebuild, not just the buildings, but their sense of hope. You’ve given them that.” His gaze softened as he watched you carefully, but there was still that undercurrent of authority in his words. “I’m amazed, really.”

You didn’t say anything at first, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. It felt strange—unnerving, even—that he was acknowledging it. That he was acknowledging you. It wasn’t like him to show vulnerability, or praise.

“I didn’t do it alone,” you said finally, your voice steady, though your heart was racing. “The people here—they’re the ones doing the work. I’m just… part of the puzzle.”

Mark’s eyes never left yours. “Maybe. But you’re the one who gave them a reason to keep going. A reason to fight for something better.” His gaze flickered, as if searching for something in your expression. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you… alive, like this...”

You didn’t respond immediately. You didn’t know how to. Instead, you finished preparing his tea, placing the steaming cup in front of him on the counter. For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the tension in the air thick as ever, the silence almost unbearable.

Mark finally spoke, his voice quieter now, but with a note of sincerity that was rare. “Would you join me for dinner tonight?” he asked, his eyes searching yours. “We should talk. I’ve been thinking… about a lot of things, and I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the invitation. The last thing you wanted was to sit down and have dinner with him, to pretend like things were normal again. But you could see the determination in his eyes, the quiet desperation that always seemed to follow him these days. He wasn’t just asking for dinner. He was asking for something else. Something more.

You swallowed the bitterness that rose in your throat, and gave him a short, sharp nod. “Fine,” you said, your voice still steady, despite everything. “Dinner. But don’t think for a second that I’m just going to forget what’s happened. Or what you've done."

Mark didn’t seem to flinch at your words, though a flicker of something passed through his eyes—an acknowledgment, maybe.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” he said quietly. Then, after a beat, he added with a slight smile, “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

You watched him walk away, feeling a swirl of confusion and reluctance in your chest. Dinner. It was the last thing you wanted. But it was inevitable. The past, the present, and whatever the hell this was between you—none of it was going to go away that easily.

And you had to figure out what you wanted. What he wanted. You had to, because the longer you stayed in his world, the more impossible it seemed to remember what your world was even supposed to be.

—

The opulence of Mark’s mansion hit you again with full force. The polished floors gleamed beneath your feet, the massive chandeliers hanging like diamonds from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden light over everything. The long dining table was set for two, and as you approached, the extravagant spread in front of you was almost too much to take in all at once.

The smells hit first—roast meats, fresh bread, delicate vegetables, exotic fruits, and pastries that looked like they’d been carefully crafted by a team of perfectionists. It almost felt absurd—like something out of a dream you didn’t quite want to wake up from. A small army of servers was clearing away earlier courses, setting down even more food, as if the spread had no end. Your stomach growled at the sight of it.

You’d gotten used to barely eating anything at all, giving most of what Mark sent you to the workers, the people who were actually rebuilding this town. They deserved it more than you did. But now, staring down at the feast before you, your body didn’t care about any of that. It just wanted. You had to stop yourself from diving in without a second thought.

You glanced up at Mark, who was already settled into his seat. As usual, he was dressed in his suit—because, of course, he was. The same suit he always wore. It was practically a second skin by now. You raised an eyebrow, feeling the urge to tease him, even if only to cut through the tension in the room.

“You know,” you said, taking your seat and leaning back in the chair with a smirk, “You’ve been wearing that suit for as long as I’ve known you. Ever think about changing it up a little? You can’t tell me you don’t get sick of it.”

Mark glanced at you, his eyes cold but somehow amused. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked you over, his usual arrogance in place. “This suit’s practical,” he finally said, smooth as ever. “I don’t exactly have the time to worry about fashion.”

“Practical, huh?” you smirked, letting the sarcasm drip from your words. “Sure you’re not wearing it for... other reasons. Like, I don’t know, maybe the whole ‘invincible’ thing. Want to keep up the tough guy image?”

Mark stifled a half-laugh, but his expression stayed tight. It was the first time you’d seen him enjoy a lighthearted moment, and it made you pause, just for a second. His gaze softened, but only slightly. “Maybe,” he said, his voice quieter, more contemplative. “Maybe it’s just easier to hide behind it. Reminds me of who I’m supposed to be.”

You blinked, your teasing faltering for a moment, but you quickly regained your usual sharp edge. “Hiding behind it, huh? The great Invincible, hiding from the world under a suit. Sounds like you’ve got some issues with who you really are.”

Mark’s gaze hardened again, the edge of his pride creeping back in. “Maybe I do,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair as if to put some distance between himself and whatever weird vulnerability had just surfaced. “But I don’t need you to psychoanalyze me right now, alright?”

You were about to say something snarky, but then the food in front of you—so impossibly tempting—distracted you again. You reached for your wine glass, trying to ignore the faint stirrings of guilt in your stomach. It had been so long since you’d had a meal like this, so long since you’d allowed yourself to enjoy something without the weight of a thousand other responsibilities pressing on you.

“Well,” you said, lifting the glass, “enough about your super suit. Let’s talk about something much more important—this meal.” Your eyes slid across the table, taking in the roast chicken, the mashed potatoes, the gravy. You could practically taste it all already. “I have to admit, Mark, your chefs really know what they’re doing. I haven’t seen anything like this since... I don’t even know when.”

Mark’s eyes flicked over the spread as you did, his gaze steady and unflinching. “Thought you’d appreciate it,” he said, his voice surprisingly serious. “You’ve been working your ass off for these people. Figured you deserved something better than... scraps.”

You paused, taken aback. His words weren’t what you expected. It was a compliment – delivered a bit crudely, albeit, but a compliment nonetheless. For a moment, you almost felt... grateful?

But you quickly shoved the thought aside. “I’m just doing my part,” you said, before you could second-guess yourself. “But thanks, I guess.”

You speared a piece of roast chicken with your fork, savoring the tender meat. The mashed potatoes were creamy, the gravy rich and flavorful. You had to fight the urge to let out a satisfied moan—this was so much better than what you’d been eating for the past few months.  An uncertain amount of time had passed where you seemed to entirely forget you were in the presence of company, indulging in the food with reckless abandon.

As you reached for another piece of roast chicken, Mark’s gaze flicked down to your plate, then back up to your face. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned back in his chair, watching you with an amused expression.

“Wow,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Slow down there. I didn’t know you were starving.”

You froze mid-bite, the chicken almost to your mouth, and shot him a quick glare. “I’m not starving,” you muttered, hoping your face didn’t betray you. “Just... enjoying the food. It’s been a while since I’ve had something this good.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. I’m sure it has. Don’t worry, you’re not going to need to hoard any of that food to bring back with you. I’ll make sure you’re well-fed.” He tapped his fingers against the table, a playful glint in his eyes. “Is that how you’ve been getting by these days? Using the food to fuel your work ethic? Or are you just trying to make up for lost time?”

You narrowed your eyes at him but couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at your lips. “Maybe. What about you, Mark? You’re not exactly going light on the food either. Should I be worried about your appetite?”

Mark’s smirk widened as he leaned forward slightly, his voice low but teasing. “I’m not the one stuffing my face like it’s my last meal, am I?”

You shot back, “You’re just jealous because I’m not wasting my food. Unlike some people.”

Mark’s eyes glinted with amusement, his lips curling into a grin. “Jealous? Of you? Please. I just find it amusing watching someone like you forget their manners.” He leaned back again, a sly grin playing on his lips. “But hey, if you’re that hungry, feel free to dig in. You deserve it... for all the work you’re doing around here.”

Your eyes narrowed, but you couldn’t fight the laugh that escaped. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Mark shrugged with a grin that suggested he knew exactly what he was doing. “I try.”

Some time had passed since the last course, and now you were sitting back in your chair, feeling utterly stuffed. The plate in front of you was practically empty, save for a few stray crumbs. You almost had to laugh at how much you'd eaten, but your stomach protested with every small shift in your posture.

Mark, on the other hand, had finished his meal too, but he seemed to be sitting in silence, swirling his wine glass absently. He wasn’t the kind of man to linger in a quiet moment for long, but tonight, he was.

You shifted uncomfortably, your stomach protesting the abundance of food. “I think I might need to roll myself out of here,” you muttered, giving Mark a wry smile.

He glanced over at you, his lips quirking slightly at the sight of your stuffed expression. But his smile quickly faded as his gaze drifted off, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

The silence stretched between you two, heavy with something unspoken, until Mark cleared his throat awkwardly. He shifted in his chair, setting his wine glass down with a quiet clink.

“You know,” he started, his voice quieter than before, “I’ve been thinking about my universe a lot lately. About the past... about everything that happened.” His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you thought he might stop there. But he didn’t. “It’s funny,” he continued, his eyes narrowing slightly, “seeing people happy here, seeing them rebuild your town... It almost feels... right, you know? Like it should’ve been this way all along.”

Your brow furrowed as you studied him, the sharp edges of his usually confident demeanor slipping just slightly. He was almost uncomfortable in the moment, fidgeting with his glass again. “It reminds me of before everything fell apart. Before I fell apart. And, you... the other you…” he trailed off, seemingly unable to finish the sentence. “It makes me think, maybe, things could’ve been different.”

He paused, running a hand through his hair before his eyes met yours. “I know this isn’t your universe. I know you’re not... her,” he said, the words coming out slower, almost regretful as his eyes glanced away from you for a brief moment when mentioning her. “But when I see the way you’ve helped these people, the way you’re helping this town come back to life, it’s like... I don’t know. It’s like I get a glimpse of her again. Like maybe there’s hope for everything. Maybe, together, we can... fix things.”

You were quiet, your own words stuck somewhere between your throat and your chest. The awkwardness in his voice, the vulnerability that crept into his gaze, made you pause. You had always seen Mark as someone untouchable, someone who always seemed so sure of himself. But now, sitting across from you, he seemed like he was looking for something—answers, maybe, or some kind of redemption.

The silence stretched on longer than usual, but it wasn’t uncomfortable this time. You’d gotten used to his presence, the way his confidence both unnerved and intrigued you. You weren’t sure if you felt pity for him, or if this moment just made you want to be... there for him in a way you hadn’t been before.

You shifted in your seat, your hands resting lightly on the table as you met his gaze. You didn’t say anything immediately, just let his words settle in the quiet space between you.

“I... I don’t know what to say to that,” you admitted softly. “But I’m listening.”

Mark nodded, his expression unreadable, as though he were almost relieved by your response. “I don’t expect anything. I just needed to say it. You’ve given me something to think about, something I didn’t think I’d have again. I don’t know if it’s possible to fix everything... but maybe, just maybe, we can start here. Start with what we can control.”

You gave him a quiet nod, your fingers tapping lightly against your wine glass. The food, the conversation, the weight of his words... It all felt like it was changing something between you. You weren’t sure what it was, but you couldn’t deny that something had shifted. And maybe, for the first time in a long while, you weren’t so sure that it was all for the worst.

→【Ｐａｒｔ　Ｓｉｘ】←

[serenadeonacanoe]

Untitled, 2025 (GD x OFC) Chapter 9: Smut

Look, I couldn't help myself... it's only been three days but this basically wrote itself. 🤷🏻‍♀️ 🌼 Let me know what you think, it's been so nice to read. 💛

Pairing: G-Dragon/Kwon Jiyong x OFC Genre/Warnings: in this chapter: unprotected sex (idiots)

It’s 2025 and the King of K-Pop is back. He and his music are everywhere. On the charts, all over social media and smack in the middle of Daisy’s work schedule. Sometimes she still can’t believe this is her actual job now - documenting the chaos behind the scenes and trying to make sure no one on his team gets lost, bruised or accidentally starts a viral scandal.

What’s even harder to believe? That she and Jiyong met five years ago. Actually… scratch that. They met ten years ago too. Time has a weird sense of humor like that and things get blurry when you’re busy, nostalgic, and maybe just a little bit smitten. Also, life throws more daisies your way than you’d expect.

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

More on AO3

When I get to Jiyong’s apartment that night, it couldn’t feel more different from the night before. I’ve done my hair and makeup, I’m wearing a peach-colored dress and I’m a little nervous. Which is silly, maybe. But I can’t shake it.

Honestly, I’m glad we had last night. Without it, I might have been even worse.

When I reach for the keypad, I hesitate. Then I ring the doorbell instead. Perhaps it’s silly but the keypad is for work time only?

Jiyong opens the door with a startled face, then immediately relaxes. Apparently, he is also used to me just coming in, at least when he knows staff is coming over.

“Oh, shit. I thought it might be someone else” he says, pulling me inside before shutting the door. His hand lingers lightly on my back. Then his eyes sweep over my face and down my body. It’s not lewd, just… appreciative. A little surprised maybe. A knowing nod.

“You look beautiful” he says simply and kisses me. Just the softest brush of lips.

“Same” I murmur, because I noticed too. He’s just in a white t-shirt tucked into jeans. Nothing flashy, no statement piece, for him surprisingly simple actually and yet somehow - like always - he manages to make it look impossibly elegant.

Just like he promised, he had a plan.

Soft music plays through the speakers, there are fresh flowers on the table and warm light spills from a corner lamp. It’s not overdone, but it’s definitely on purpose. It feels special. And at first, maybe because of that, we’re both a little stiff. He keeps moving around, remembering things he forgot, distracted by details. I perch awkwardly around the kitchen, unsure whether to follow him or stay put.

It breaks when we start arguing over what to order for dinner. Somehow it makes us laugh. He admits he meant to cook and I shake my head in mild alarm, which makes him grin.

We end up eating in front of the window, plates on our laps, the city glowing beneath us. It’s in stark contrast with our clothes, but fun. We talk about our days. It’s not like we needed fancy clothes or candles to do this - we’ve eaten together in this apartment dozens of times before - but tonight it’s different. There are no phones between us. No talk of tomorrow. Just him and me, on an actual date.

The food is good. When we open a bottle of bubbly, Jiyong turns it into a performance - full of flair and mock elegance. I giggle. But then the cork explodes with way more force than expected and champagne sprays everywhere. His plate, my plate, my sleeve, my chest, even the side of my face and my hair get splattered.

The shriek I let out? Immediate regret. There’s definitely a premature ejaculation joke somewhere in this, but I’m proud of myself for pushing it away.

Jiyong curses, apologizing a dozen times even while laughing, caught between embarrassment and helpless delight. He quickly balances the dripping bottle and plates, whisking them to the kitchen to save the carpet. When he returns, it’s with an armada of kitchen towels, all bunched in his arms like a determined waiter at a fancy hotel.

“I can’t believe that happened.” he mutters, crouching in front of me with those pouty lips and a slightly panicked expression. He dabs at my chest, my arm, the side of my face - gentle, apologetic. My skin prickles at the closeness. “Well, that’s uncomfortable. We can’t have that. I’m so sorry. Let’s put the dress on the dry-cleaner pile and get you into something else, yeah?”

I nod, letting him help me up. The carpet seems to have survived. The cats, on the other hand, have disappeared - clearly traumatized by the champagne cannon. Jiyong clicks his tongue at one as he pulls me down the hallway toward his bedroom and the adjoining dressing room.

“I assume you don’t want Chanel, just something comfy?” he teases, already halfway to the racks. I nod again, glancing down at the damp peach fabric clinging to my skin. As much as I mourn the dress, sweats for the second night in a row honestly sound like heaven.

I sip the last of my drink while he rummages through a drawer, until I notice him looking at my hair.

“Oh” he says with exaggerated concern “only just noticed I got your hair too.”

I touch it. It’s… yeah, kind of drippy.

“Do you want a shower?” he asks casually, but there’s a flicker in his eyes that gives him away.

I shake my head quickly. “Don’t worry, it’s not like…”

But I stop when I see his grin spreading.

Shit.

My cheeks warm.

“I assume I wouldn’t be alone in said shower?”

He nods slowly, lips twitching into something soft and sly. But he waits. Patiently.

Okay. This is it.

Why is the first time with someone always nerve-racking? Even when it hasn’t been the actual first in so long? Even when I’ve pictured it a thousand different ways. Even when I’ve wanted him since the day we met. It’s because I waited so long. Because it’s him.

I take a breath. “Well… I guess it would only be responsible.”

He chuckles, eyes crinkling. “Let me get us another glass of this - carefully.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing down the hall. I run my fingers through my sticky hair and try not to think too hard. A minute later, he’s back - lights off behind him, the only glow now coming from the bathroom, warm and golden and quietly inviting.

The bathroom is stunning, of course. I’ve only ever glimpsed it briefly, passing by during makeup touch-ups. Usually, I use the smaller guest bathroom by the entrance. This one? It feels like a sanctuary.

He hands me my glass. We toast. Sip. And then just stand there for a second, glasses pushed onto the sink. Smiling. Teetering. Our eyes lock and we both break into a little awkward laugh.

“Whatever…” I murmur.

And then I just… go for it. Pull the band-aid off. I reach for the hem of my dress and lift it over my head in one smooth motion.

There’s a pause. Then:

“Oh good god.”

He’s got one hand in his hair, the other still holding his glass, eyes wide and reverent.

Yeah. The I’m-probably-getting-lucky underwear has done its job.

And his reaction is everything I hoped for, makes me feel really good about myself, even though I don’t know what to do with my arms now, awkwardly crossing them in front of me.

Smiling, he pulls off his shirt. I nod with a grin. Seen his naked chest before, liked it then. Like it even more now.

As he opens his belt buckle - slow, almost casual - the sight alone sends goosebumps across my back in the best kind of way.

“Shit” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I’m so fucking lucky. You have no idea how long I’ve imagined you like this.”

His voice is quiet, but the way he looks at me speaks volumes.

“Damn” I reply, mock-serious. “I don’t want to burst your bubble…”

I pretend to take a step back, teasing.

But he’s faster. Laughing, he ignores his half-undone jeans and pulls me toward him, hands warm on my hips before wrapping fully around me. He’s right there, face just inches from mine and we both break into wide, ridiculous smiles. His eyes search mine like he’s trying to memorize something. And before I know it, my bra has unclasped without me really realizing he was doing that.

Right. Okay. Yes. You used to be a fuckboy. We get it.

When I let the bra slip off, he exhales slowly, looking down and not even hiding what he is looking at.

“Do they live up to the fantasy version of me?” I ask with a grin.

He just nods, still speechless. There’s something incredibly endearing about that.

“Shower” he finally mutters. “Before I forget myself.” Oh, but please do.

He turns toward the glass door, stripping the rest of the way and I take the opportunity to admire the view - shamelessly. Then I slide off my underwear and take a deep breath before stepping into the warmth behind him.

At first, it’s awkward. I try not to trip over myself while acting like naked showering together is totally normal. But then his hands are in my hair, gently lathering shampoo, tilting my head so the spray doesn’t hit my face. He’s quiet, focused. I just watch him, eyes tracing the curve of his cheekbone, the arch of his brow, the concentration in his mouth. Eventually, I lean in until our chests touch, skin against skin, warm water between us. I feel his rhythm falter just slightly. Good.

When he looks up, we’re both grinning. It’s a game now, quiet and private. Who’s going to give in first? I want to kiss him so badly I can feel it in my stomach. I want to be closer, just all in already.

His hands drift over my waist, slow and steady and it feels like I’ve won - but so has he. There’s no loser here tonight.

I suck in a breath when he pulls me against him fully, our bodies aligned, no space left. Water drips down his cheeks, his neck, his collarbones. He looks like something from a dream - soaked, flushed, a little wrecked already. I am pretty sure I have never seen anything hotter in my life. 

“You are so fucking beautiful.” I say before I can stop myself.

He raises an eyebrow, surprised, but clearly not complaining. His hands slide up to cup my face, warm and sure. And then he kisses me - soft at first, then deeper.

I melt into it. My hands wander across his chest, down his back, gripping where I can. His body is all tension and heat and I want more. We move back and forth together in little, clumsy steps, bumping into the shower wall, holding onto each other like it’s the only thing keeping us upright.

His touch grows bolder - over my sides, across my breasts. I gasp when he grazes my nipple with the flat of his palm. Then his hands grab my ass and he uses it to pull me tighter against him, making me whimper into his mouth.

We stumble again, his back hitting the wall. He chuckles against my lips, lets me have the upper hand for a second and fuck do I enjoy it - until he spins us around. Now it’s my back pressed to the cold stone and I moan at the contrast, at the way his body warms mine again a heartbeat later.

His hands explore, mouth everywhere, until finally he stops. Breaks the kiss to look at me - really look at me. There’s something questioning in his gaze, but also teasing, a kind of quiet dare.

My heart is pounding. I’m so ready I could scream.

I don’t say anything. I just take his hand and guide it down.

He laughs softly, the sound hot against my ear and then two fingers move between my folds. Massaging on each side of my clit, his eyes still on my face. I hold onto him like he’s the only solid thing in the room.

Water is everywhere now - on our skin, in our hair, down our necks.

I want him undone too. I need that.

One of my hands slides down his body, wrapping around his cock and he groans my name. I stroke him - slowly - and his body jerks just slightly, the tension in him shifting.

We keep kissing like we’re still starving for it. Like this isn’t enough and somehow too much. The shower, the water, our bodies - it’s all messy and overwhelming and perfect.

“I want you so badly. Please… I just need to finally have you.” Jiyong’s lips brush against my ear, his voice ragged and low, each word catching slightly on his breath. For a second I debate whether I can still speak  - my mouth is open, panting, heat pulsing through me in waves.

“Then have me.” I breathlessly whisper, eyes meeting his. “Just… I really need you to fuck me.”

The phrasing catches him for a second - I see the flicker in his eyes, the way something lights up behind them. His gaze sharpens, lips parting like he wasn’t expecting me to say it like that. But he recovers fast. Kisses me hard, one more time, then reaches for the shower handle without even looking.

The water shuts off with a thunk.

And then -

He lifts me.

Strong arms wrap around me and suddenly I’m in the air, legs automatically around his waist, his hands steady under my thighs. He’s not the buff kind, but he’s determined, focused, breathing hard against my neck as he carries me the short way to the bedroom.

My feet hit the floor again just before the bed, walking backwards with him in a blur of wet skin and gasps until the backs of my knees meet the edge.

I fall back onto the mattress, the sheets catching my weight. Everything is damp - my hair, my skin, the air between us. I don’t care.

For a split second, he just looks at me, laid out like that - flushed, dripping, eyes wide, needy for him. Then he climbs over me, crawling up my body.

His fingers slide through my tangled hair at the back of my head, as he aligns himself, forehead almost touching mine. When he pushes inside, I can’t hold back the sound that leaves me - not a scream, not a moan, something in between. I bite down on my lip but it doesn’t help. Jiyong grits his teeth, breath stuttering as he sinks into me.

It’s almost too much - too good, too real. My hands scramble across his back, pulling him closer, dragging him down. His hips rock forward and I gasp again.

“Shit…” I breathe and he just presses his face to my neck, mumbling something that sounds like my name.

His pace is slow at first. It feels like he wants to feel every second of this - and I do too. Every inch, every movement, every sound.

He kisses me again, desperate and messy, one hand gripping the side of my thigh while the other supports his weight beside my head.

When I arch into him, chasing the friction, he gets the message. His thrusts grow deeper, filling me in a way that makes my whole body tense and tremble.

“Daisy…” he groans my name again and it’s the best thing I have ever heard.

My nails rake across his shoulders and down his spine, trying to keep myself tethered as heat builds low in my belly.

“Don’t stop.” I whisper. “Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t.

But I can see it in his face - how close he is, how much effort it takes not to let go. His jaw is tight, his breath ragged and his hands grip me harder.

Without thinking, I shift - one hand on his chest, the other bracing myself against his shoulder as I push up slightly. He notices the movement and lets go of my thigh to give me space, though I can tell he doesn’t quite know what I’m doing.

Neither do I.

But then I end up on top op him, in his lap. He wraps his arms around my waist, steadying me, keeping me from falling backwards into the pillows. I reach between us, guide him back into me and gasp into his mouth as I sink down again.

The angle makes everything sharper - deeper. I can ride him like this, set the rhythm, tilt my hips just right to chase what I need. We’re both close, both breathing hard, chasing that final crash. His hands grip my ass, helping me move, pulling me down onto him as he thrusts up in return. My arms are wrapped around his shoulders, clinging tight for balance as I use what I have left in me to bounce on him.

We try to kiss but can’t - mouths not quite connected - because we both need the air and can’t help getting louder. 

When I finally come undone he has just slammed deep inside of me. I only hold on long enough to see his face dive into pure bliss, then I can’t take it anymore and let my face fall to his shoulder. I moan, helpless and shaking, clutching onto him.

He follows moments later. I feel him twitch, hear him gasp my name, feel the way he presses up into me one last time and holds me there as he comes. We’re both trembling. I can feel his heart beating fast under my hands and mine isn’t much better. It takes a moment for either of us to breathe again properly - we just hold each other, still locked together, the room spinning softly around us. His grip around me is shaky, but I know he won’t drop me. I meant it when I said that I trust him yesterday.

Eventually, I sit up a little straighter, one hand resting in the crook of his neck so I can look at him properly. Ji’s eyes meet mine, mirroring everything I feel - wonder, exhaustion, contentment… and maybe just a little bit of overwhelm.

“Baby…” he murmurs, voice low and warm and fuck, I already know I won’t get enough of him calling me that. I answer with a kiss, soft and slow, my other hand holding his face for a second. We’re both smiling by the time we pull apart.

“Shit, if it’s always like this, we won’t get much work done anymore.” I murmur when I finally find my breath again. He giggles, light and real. I think we both know it won’t always be like this - not every time. But still. Damn. That was good.

I sink back into his arms and he presses a gentle kiss to my shoulder as we wrap ourselves around each other.

Right now, I feel invincible.

We stay like that for a good while, his hand lazily tracing circles on my lower back. I’d gladly close my eyes if it weren’t for the creeping cold making my body start to shiver. We’re still… well, very wet.

When Jiyong notices, he sighs and gently lifts me off his lap and there's the tiniest flash of pride in his eyes when I shudder at the loss of him inside of me. He rummages through his nightstand, then hands me a single tissue.

I laugh. “I think… that won’t be enough. We need towels.”

He slowly nods and slips out of the room while I rub my face with my hands. God, the water, the mascara... I hope I didn’t look like something out of a horror movie the whole time. When he comes back, he brings towels and a bottle of water. He helps me first, dabbing my cheeks. “Glorious mess.” he murmurs when he notices I’m feeling a little embarrassed. I smile and let him wrap a towel around me once I’ve cleaned up a bit and he does the same for himself. I flop back into bed with a satisfied sigh, finally warm, pulling the blanket up over me as well.

Ji sits at the edge of the bed, tossing the used towels onto his nightstand, but then he just... stares into the open drawer. I open my arms to invite him back in. “What?”

He clears his throat, hesitant. “Uhm… I just realized… we didn’t… like… I guess I forgot to… wrap it?”

It takes me a second, but then I realize what he’s looking at. I don’t even need to see the box of condoms to get there. That slow, ice-cold shower trickles down my spine.

Oh. Fuck.

We are idiots. Actual idiots.

“How did we not think of that…” I mutter, already feeling my stomach drop.

Ji looks frozen for another moment, then over at me.. “Are you… I mean, are we okay in terms of…?”

“Birth control” I say quickly, nodding. “We’re good.” That earns a soft exhale of relief from him.

“Uhm… and when was the last time you had sex?” I ask, voice low. I hate for this conversation to happen right now when I didn’t care before, but I’d rather get it over with than wonder.

He presses a hand to his face. “Months ago. But protected. And I’ve been tested since.”

Honestly, I’m a little relieved. It’s not “like, two weeks ago” while I was pining over him. Good.

“You?” he asks gently.

“Over a year.” I say.

He nods again and finally lies down beside me with a long sigh. “Sorry. I should’ve remembered. That sucks.”

“I didn’t think of it either” I say honestly. “I was so out of it…”

Yeah. He was there. He knows what I mean.

The little flare of awkwardness lingers for a beat, but not long. My good mood creeps back in with every second that passes. I smile and lean over to kiss him.

“It’s fine. We got away with it. And… it was still perfect. Like… so much better than I ever let myself imagine.”

He raises a teasing eyebrow. “Did you think it wouldn’t be good?”

I roll my eyes. “No… I was just nervous. And I spent way too long wondering what it would be like.” A blush - of course I do - but he just looks completely flattered. He wraps both arms around my waist, pulls me back against him and murmurs into my ear “Same. I thought about it a lot. The shower wasn’t what I pictured… but I really liked it.”

We snuggle for a while longer, sipping water and letting our bodies slowly settle. Eventually, I sigh and force myself to get up. I know I should at least pee. Responsible post-sex behavior and all that if the pre-part was already lacking.

In the bathroom, I try to tame my half-dried hair in the mirror. The place is a mess - water everywhere - but I let it be and sneak back into bed with him.

Soft sheets. Warm skin. Aching body (the good kind).

Yes. Yes. Yes.

“Very good first date. Very well planned, very well executed.” I murmur, closing my eyes for a moment, my head resting on Ji’s shoulder.

“Honestly, didn’t take you for the kiss-on-the-first-date type.” he replies, trying to sound serious, but I burst out laughing right away.

“Well, technically I made you wait ten years, so call me a prude or whatever.”

“Fair point.”

I feel his fingers brushing gently across my cheek, so I open my eyes again. He’s smiling at me.

“Are you happy?” he asks.

I nod slowly. “Very. You?”

His smile stretches even wider as he nods - once, twice, then again - still nodding as he leans in and kisses my cheek.

Sleep starts to settle in not much later. It’s just too damn comfortable with him. 

-----------------------------------

What do we think? =) <3

[hunieday]

Rainbow City Arc chapter 9 - A day that will be remembered forever

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access it, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Woman: It’s finally time to open Rainbow City!

Woman: I can’t wait for the opening live! I hope it’s a wonderful concert hall...

Woman: I wonder what kind of performance they’ll show us? I want to meet everyone soon!

Staff: How are the lighting adjustments from here?

Takanashi Tsumugi: Yes, they’re fine! Thank you!

Takanashi Tsumugi: (I want to deliver this stage to the fans as soon as possible...!)

Takanashi Tsumugi: (Like a sparkling jewelry box, filled with excitement and joy, the best memories will be born here...)

Takanashi Tsumugi: (That’s the promise I want to make.)

Takanashi Tsumugi: (To the precious people,  who will share the same scenery, and connect to the same hearts)

Nanase Riku: Finally, the morning of the opening live has come...

Izumi Iori: Nanase-san.

Nanase Riku: Iori... you’re up early.

Izumi Iori: I came to check whether Yaotome-san’s bluff would hold up.

Nanase Riku: Bluff?

Izumi Iori: The sea’s morning rainbow, the one that promises good fortune.

Nanase Riku: Oh right. Do you think we’ll see it? The sky’s still dark though...

Izumi Iori: Who knows... Honestly, even Yaotome-san might be wrong this time.

Izumi Iori: Just the sunrise over the horizon is already extravagant enough. Asking for a rainbow too would make even the Gods laugh at us.

Nanase Riku: But isn’t that what’s expected of us idols?

Nanase Riku: Spotlights alone aren’t enough. Silver streamers alone aren’t enough. We want flames, smoke, everything.

Nanase Riku: We don’t want things half-done. We wanna give more, more, and more. Maybe the Gods feel the same way.

Izumi Iori: And if they don’t?

Nanase Riku: Then I’ll beg for it. Towards the God of Rainbow City... the God of this city that starts its journey today!

Nanase Riku: God, please! Show us the sea, the sunrise, and the rainbow, all together!

Izumi Iori: It sounds really dramatic when you say it out loud...

Nanase Riku: I want happiness promised to me! Because I want to promise happiness in return!

Nanase Riku: What do you thinkl?

Izumi Iori: Don’t ask me. Ah...

Izumi Iori: The sky is starting to brighten.

Nanase Riku: It’s almost time! Can you see a rainbow?

Izumi Iori: No... just the sunrise...

Nanase Riku: What!? Hmm... Well, it’s not over yet!

Nanase Riku: I believe in Yaotome-san! He’s cool like that!

Izumi Iori: Nanase-san, do fan service.

Nanase Riku: To you?

Izumi Iori: Not to me! To the God of Rainbow City.

Izumi Iori: Begging is fine, but if you really want to stir up the floor you need MCs and fan service.

Nanase Riku: Ohhhh, I get it!

Nanase Riku: God of Rainbow City! We can see the beautiful morning sky! Thank you!

Izumi Iori: Thank you very much.

Nanase Riku: Put more energy into it!

Izumi Iori: Then I’ll just be begging. You’re the one who’s good at that.

Nanase Riku: Stop complaining. Come on, Iori, let’s do it together!

Izumi Iori: Together? What exactly? A wink...?

Nanase Riku: Wouldn’t a wink be hard for the gods to see? How about blowing a kiss?

Izumi Iori: I... don’t really… blow kisses...

Nanase Riku: That makes it super rare, better that way!

Izumi Iori: You think so?

Nanase Riku: The horizon’s starting to sparkle! We gotta hurry! Ready?

Izumi Iori & Nanase Riku: One, two...!

Izumi Iori & Nanase Riku: …

Nanase Riku: Well...?

Izumi Iori: Don’t ask me.

Nanase Riku: If I were God, I’d put a rainbow out right now!

Izumi Iori: Me too. Even our manager Tsumugi would do it, I’m sure.

Izumi Iori: She’s a talented stage director after all.

Nanase Riku: Ah, look!

Izumi Iori: Huh?

Izumi Iori: ...Waah...!

Nanase Riku: A rainbow over the sunrise...!

Izumi Iori & Nanase Riku: I can see it...!

Izumi Mitsuki: A morning rainbow...!

Rokuya Nagi: Beautiful...! A miraculous dawn!

Nikaido Yamato: Incredible... It’s so beautiful...

Osaka Sougo: Yes. It’s really beautiful. You really feel like something wonderful is about to happen.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Awesome! It’s the promise of happiness! Let’s do our best for today’s live!

Rokuya Nagi: The opening live! And after that, our IDOLiSH7 solo live! Let’s do our best there too!

Rokuya Nagi: So many exciting things are waiting for us!

Nikaido Yamato: That’s right! There will be tough days too, but I can overcome them with you guys here.

Izumi Mitsuki: Damn right! Let’s keep the flame blazing, from here on, forever and always!

Nikaido Yamato: Yeah.

Nanase Riku: Guys...!

Izumi Iori: Nii-san.

Izumi Mitsuki: It’s Iori! and the others!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Rikkun, Iorin! Morning!

Yotsuba Tamaki: I saw the morning rainbow, I’m so happy!

Nanase Riku: Me too!

Nanase Riku: I love mornings before a live! We’re gonna spend lots more mornings like this together.

Nanase Riku: Everyone, let’s do our best at the All-Star Live and our solo lives too!

IDOLiSH7: Yeah!

Yaotome Gaku: See? I told you we’d see a morning rainbow!

Kujo Tenn: That’s what’s so amazing about you... It’s like you’re blessed with luck.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Way to go, Gaku!

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: It’s like the sea, the sun, and the rainbow are all cheering for us!

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Today’s the day Rainbow City opens… Gaku, Tenn, let’s give it our all!

Yaotome Gaku: And for TRIGGER’s solo live too!

Kujo Tenn: Let’s run straight through to the very end. My foster father… stage director Kujo-san… I hope he’ll come watch from somewhere.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: I’m sure he will.

Yaotome Gaku: Yeah. A new era of idols is beginning. He’ll definitely be watching over you.

Kujo Tenn: You’re right.

Kujo Tenn: Let’s go, you two.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke & Yaotome Gaku: Yeah…!

Momo: Yuki! Yuki, come on! Open your eyes…!!

Yuki: …I can’t…

Momo: Geez, Yuki! The sky looks super handsome right now…!!

Yuki: I’m more handsome…

Momo: Well, yeah but still-!!

Yuki: Yaaawn… Why are we outside again…?

Momo: To see the morning rainbow! For us, and for all the fans, everyone will be happy!

Yuki: I see… Then that’s good.

Yuki: I’m looking forward to today.

Momo: Not just today! For Re:vale’s solo live too!

Momo: Happy days will keep on coming, and we’ll be the ones to create them!

Yuki: Sounds fun. I can even wake up early if it’s you.

Yuki: A morning rainbow that promises happiness, huh? Then let me be your morning rainbow, Momo.

Momo: …………….

Yuki: Hm? Aren’t you gonna say your usual “Yuki, you’re so handsome~!”?

Momo: You were too handsome just now, you stunned me into silence…

Yuki: Oh, is that so…

Momo: Yeah… I got embarrassed…

Yuki: Hehe. You’re cute.

Natsume Minami: Sleepy…

Mido Torao: Sleepy…

Isumi Haruka: Look! Heey, I said look! There’s really a rainbow! See!

Inumaru Touma: Whoa!! The sunrise and a rainbow!? That’s crazy, you hardly ever see this!!

Mido Torao: It’s true…

Natsume Minami: It’s beautiful…

Inumaru Touma: Why are you posing?

Mido Torao: I thought I’d take a picture.

Natsume Minami: Morning rainbow, with me in it.

Isumi Haruka: Let’s all take one! Whoever’s got the longest arms holds the phone!

Inumaru Touma: That’d be Tora, right?

Mido Torao: Like this?

Natsume Minami: Fufu. Please take a nice picture.

Isumi Haruka: Make sure the sunrise and the rainbow are in too!

Mido Torao: You guys are so demanding…

Inumaru Touma: I’ll hit the shutter button! Three, two, one…

Click!

Inumaru Touma: Got it! Alright! Let’s crush it at the opening live!

Isumi Haruka: Let’s go all out!

Natsume Minami: And for ŹOOḼ’s solo live too.

Mido Torao: We’ll make both lives the best they can be.

Isumi Haruka: Bring it all on!

Inumaru Touma: Whoa, Haru, feelin’ bold today.

Natsume Minami: Isumi-san’s bad at waking up, but once morning hits, he’s full of energy.

Mido Torao: And then at night he gets all moody. He’s like a toddler.

Isumi Haruka: Shut up! You get all cranky at night too, Torao!

Mido Torao: Fair enough… I guess I shine my brightest in the break of dawn.

Natsume Minami: What a surprisingly wholesome bunch. Shall we start gathering every morning to do yoga?

Inumaru Touma: Ahaha! That’d be fun, why not?

Inumaru Touma: Let’s try lots of different things! Let’s keep pushing ourselves forward!

Man: It’s finally opening!

Facility Staff: Everyone! The gates to Rainbow City will open in just ten seconds!

Audience: Wooooahhh…!

Clapping and cheering

Staff: Five, four, three…

Woman: I’m so excited…!

Woman: I wonder if I’ll be able to buy merch!?

Man: Let’s take lots of photos! And check out the footprints too!

Man: I’m so glad we won tickets for the opening live! The lineup is just too luxurious!!

Staff: Two… one…

Staff: Zero…!

Staff: Thank you all for waiting! Rainbow City is now open!

Woman: Congratulations…!

Man: Congratulationsss!!

Woman: Wooow…! Look, here are the idols’ footprints!

Woman: These are Riku’s! They’re bigger than I thought!

Man: Look at Tsunashi-san’s, they’re huge! So cool…!

Woman: Let’s take pictures…!

Man: Take it, take it!

Woman: Wow, it’s so beautiful…!

Woman: The space is wide and gorgeous too!

Woman: Yeah!

Man: The capacity’s huge…!

Man: It’s so impressive! I can’t wait!

Takanashi Tsumugi: At last, Rainbow City’s opening live is about to begin!

Takanashi Tsumugi: We’ve been able to prepare without any major accidents or injuries thanks to all of your support.

Takanashi Tsumugi: As the stage director of the Opening Live, I want to sincerely thank all of you for your generous support and cooperation.

Staff: Thank you so much!

Staff: Congratulations on the opening!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Thank you! At last, we’re about to hold the very first performance on this brand-new stage.

Takanashi Tsumugi: Both the performers and the staff have poured their hearts into the preparations.

Takanashi Tsumugi: We humbly ask for your warm encouragement and support until the very end!

Claps, claps.

Takanashi Tsumugi: And finally… IDOLiSH7!

IDOLiSH7: Yes!

Takanashi Tsumugi: TRIGGER!

TRIGGER: Yes!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Re:vale!

Re:vale: Yes!

Takanashi Tsumugi: ŹOOĻ!

ŹOOĻ: Yes!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Thank you so much for all the practice, consultations and hard work you’ve put in up until today. I truly hope that today’s performance becomes a wonderful memory for all of you!

Nikaido Yamato: Same here! Thanks so much for making everything easier for us!

Yaotome Gaku: Thank you, from the bottom of my heart! Together we’ll make this the best stage ever! Let’s make it a day no one will forget!

Yuki: Thank you. We’ll give it our best.

Inumaru Touma: Thank you very much! From here on, we’ll give everything we have on stage! Please look forward to it!

Staff: We will!

Staff: We’re counting on you!

Nikaido Yamato: Well then, for the final words… Yuki-san, could you wrap it up for us?

Yuki: No, you do it, Yamato-kun. This is Rainbow City after all,the leader of IDOLiSH7 should take this one.

Nikaido Yamato: Me? But…

Inumaru Touma: Go for it. Say it.

Yaotome Gaku: Yeah. We’ll leave it up to you.

Nikaido Yamato: All right… Well then…

Nikaido Yamato: Rainbow City! Opening Live!

Nikaido Yamato: Let’s give it our all!

Everyone: YEAHHHHH!!

Woman: Ah…! The music changed!

Woman: It’s about to start…!

Man: Ah! Over there…!

Woman: …All sixteen of them are coming out…!

Nanase Riku: Good evening!

IDOLiSH7: We’re IDOLiSH7!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaaa!!

TRIGGER: We are TRIGGER!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaaa!!

ŹOOĻ: ŹOOĻ here!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaa!!

Re:vale: We’re Re:vale!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaaa!!

Nanase Riku: In this brand-new city of entertainment, Rainbow City!

Nanase Riku: Let’s create lots of new legends here, together!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaaa!!

Nanase Riku: All right, let’s begin! Let’s start with this song!

Nanase Riku: With all sixteen of our feelings combined, we’ll sing with everything we’ve got!

Nanase Riku: “STARDOM GENIUS”!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

[buglass]

Me, Me More Cowboy

Chapter 3

Summary: Based in the mid-1960s, ranch hand Elvis Presley is a new hire to the West Family Farm. He grows irate as cattle and livestock turn up missing over 6 months. Unbeknownst to the ranch, the hippie woman, Lilibet, he sees on occasion in their small town—along with members of her commune—is behind it. An ongoing dispute of right and wrong morally and romantically ensues as Elvis takes Lilibet up on her offer of viewing things through her perspective.

Pairing: Cowboy!Elvis Presley x Lilibet Stevens!OFC

Chapters: 3/5

WC: ~6.4K

Warnings (for the entire series): Some historical and geographical inaccuracies, fluff, slow burn, no beta reader, mention of DV, cult/commune culture, and some smut.

A/N: Things kick up a little more here finally. Thanks for reading my new comfort characters lol <3

Last Chapter Next Chapter

✧ Chapter 3 ✧

ELVIS

He was nervous—couldn’t-stop-shaking-nervous to perform that night knowing Lilibet would be watching. Any number of the Wests could say they heard him singing in or around the farm. That was nothing. They had become his family and left him complacent about singing around them. But the town and Lilibet were different. Elvis was prepared to sing Hank Wiliams’ Hey Good Lookin’ and Ray Charles’ version of I Love You So Much It Hurts. Both were musical giants he was taking and putting his spin on. 

Some part of him thought Lilibet might not show. What if she felt obligated because of their agreement? If her flirtatiousness were also obligatory then he would spiral. Lilibet seemed genuine enough. Rarely did she ever not tell him how it was. 

“What if I forget the words?” Elvis breathed out, straightening the ascot beneath his black button-up shirt to match his all-black get-up in the mirror. Maybe he was taking too many notes from Johnny Cash’s book. Sonny was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, arms crossed over his chest as he watched. 

“You drive a song into the ground when you like it. You won’t forget and even if ya do, you’re still one helluva singer, E. Besides, I think you’re more worried about what that girlfriend of yours thinks,” Sonny smirked.

“She’s not my girlfriend yet. I want to ask her tonight but I don’t want her to feel bad for me if I make a fool of myself up there.” Elvis huffed, smoothing his gelled hair back. 

“I think you’re worried for nothin’—”

“You’re worried for nothin’,” Elvis mocked.

And by the time the hour struck nine, they were out the door and various West family members drove down to the bar in different vehicles. Sonny’s family easily filled one truck, some riding in the bed. By nine-thirty, he was taking the stage and most patrons were already seated as he took out his guitar and settled in behind the microphone. He let out a breath, stepping back as he checked his guitar was tuned, and coyly scanned the audience. Had he come earlier, he might have gotten to see Lilibet and speak to her. Elvis wasn’t sure if it would make his nerves any better or worse to know where she was. Every other face, while familiar, wasn’t hers. 

He cleared his throat with no real previous warm-up and stepped toward the microphone again. “Good evening, everyone, thank y’all for being here whether purposely or accidentally. I’m gonna sing a couple tunes and then after that, if you hate ‘em, I’ll be out of your hair. Enjoy,” Elvis said.

LILIBET

She didn’t mean to be shrouded in one of the darkest parts of the bar, but the place was only so big. Lilibet thought Elvis might show up before his actual showtime but she was twenty minutes early and he was nowhere to be found. When he did walk in, he beelined for the stage. She watched as he calmly searched the above floor and below, not quite finding who or what he was looking for. Lilibet was seated with Morrow, convincing her they should go to the top floor and stand against the wooden railing. Elvis was too busy tuning his guitar to see her at first. When he spoke into the mic, she switched her perspiring drink into her opposite hand as she leaned forward. Elvis would have to look up to his right to see her but with only two songs, the time would fly.

“This is Hank Williams’ Hey Good Lookin’,” Elvis introduced before strumming on his acoustic guitar. 

Lilibet might have been drunk or merely in love but she didn’t expect Elvis’ voice to sound as raw as it did. Of course, his country twang was expected but his voice wasn’t as nasally as Hank Williams. Elvis’ voice was guttural and deep, changing pitch based on the emotion behind it. Lilibet felt something click in her brain that she had been withholding for months since they met. She wanted to touch and hold Elvis in the same ways he had shown interest but was too timid to openly request of him. Her lips parted and Morrow bumped her elbow into her.

“When are you gonna tell him how you feel?” Morrow pestered.

“I don’t wanna go down that rabbit hole. The last thing I need is to read the whole thing wrong,” Lilibet said. Soon after, Elvis was ending the short song and as if his ears were burning, his eyes finally found Lilibet. Elvis smiled wide as their eyes met and Lilibet instantly began smiling too. Morrow raised a brow, her suspicions confirmed.

“And what was that?” Morrow tested.

“Just a hello,” Lilibet dismissed.

“Right, sure it was.”

Elvis rolled into his next song, a ballad that Ray Charles put his irrefutable charm and voice on that no one could usually copy. Elvis was good at not quite imitating and making it his own. When his eyes drifted toward Lilibet again, his particular choice of lyric made her blush and she suddenly had to sip her drink. Maybe they were dancing around the inevitable. Lilibet would be lying to herself if she believed Elvis cared anymore about ratting her out to the Sheriff. 

The rest of the bar looked as tantalized as she felt. Lilibet’s eyes wandered to widowed Mrs. Declan who often drank her sorrows at a table, puffing on a cigarette with a long filter. She usually couldn’t hold her tongue the same way she couldn’t hold her liquor. Her eyes drifted to the table over to the Pardison brothers, the local roustabouts who brought more trouble than good and kept the Sheriff busy. Though Lilibet had to admit, they were generally kind despite their ways of life. Lilibet let her eyes drift back to Elvis once he finished the song and plucked out the last few chords on his guitar. Applause broke out around the bar from bottom to top. Elvis tipped his head and leaned into the mic one last time.

“Thank you very much. Have a good night, y’all,” Elvis smiled, stripping his guitar from his body. He stepped aside to put his guitar away into its case before standing below where Lilibet was. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, please let down your hair.”

“You’ve got all the ladies eyeballin’ you,” Lilibet called down, tonguing her straw between her lips again. 

Morrow laughed at her side, leaning in to whisper she would give them time alone, and left. It was true, like big cats waiting to pounce, ladies she knew of passively from the town followed his every movement. Elvis held his hands onto his waist as the jukebox in the corner next to the bar kicked up again. 

“That includes you, doesn’t it?” Elvis smiled up at her. Lilibet tapped a finger against her chin and shrugged dramatically.

“I plead the fifth,” Lilibet said.

“Oh, no, you can’t go quiet on me now. I’ve got to hear what you think.”

Lilibet didn’t want to admit what she thought. Elvis’ dark features and clothing made his eyes stand out like never before. She was starting to grow tired of the ache permeating deep within her. 

“If you won’t come down, then I’ll come ta you,” Elvis waved a pointed finger, decided. 

He climbed the steps up to the second floor making Lilibet’s heart lurch in her chest. She put her near-empty glass aside on the closest table, smoothing her clothes. Lilibet had taken the advice of Morrow and Corinne to change her look to entice Elvis. Her usual plaits were undone to leave her hair in a stretched state down her back, kept out of her face with a thick headband. Wearing a halter top and a skirt felt out of her depth. As Elvis approached, she saw the hunger in his eyes she often tried to deny was there. Lilibet was emboldened by her cocktail and held eye contact even when he pressed a warm hand to her bare side. Even with her platform heels, Elvis towered over her. 

“My Rapunzel,” Elvis said sweetly, bringing his free hand up to brush at her hair. Lilibet shivered, both soon leaning into the wooden railing together. “What did ya think?”

“You’ve been holdin’ out on me is what I thought. I think you should be up in Nashville makin’ music and not breaking your back anymore.” Lilibet smiled, straightening to hold her hands on Elvis’ waist. For the first time, she was making a move and showing him she had the same level of interest. 

“Both songs make me think of you,” Elvis expressed openly. “Lil’ Bet, I can’t keep pretendin’ I don’t feel anything for you. That you make me want to do backflips. When you say jump, I would ask ‘How high?’. What do I have ta do to make you see that I wouldn’t hurt you? That’s it, right? You’re afraid that I wouldn’t do right by you.”

Lilibet wasn’t ready for the earful but it had to be heard. She bit down into her bottom lip, knowing Elvis had an inkling about her reservations. Since they had been spending time together, at some point she let it slip how her father was the kind of man she never wanted to attract. 

“I don’t know that you won’t hurt me,” Lilibet tilted her head.

“You don’t but you know me. You know where my heart is. Even when I get pissy and upset, I would never lay a hand on you,” Elvis breathed, the hand playing with her hair resting on the side of her neck. “I have fallen for you and if I gave a shit about what either of us looked like, I wouldn’t have bothered in the first place. So, what’s holdin’ you back? Do you not want me?”

“I do… I just want you to mean it. I also don’t want the Community Leaders to get involved in us. My mama would start gettin’ them involved and criticizing. Pressing you and it’s uncomfortable. I’ve seen how they try to get people to change and convert to their beliefs.” Lilibet searched his eyes, waiting for the pin to drop.

“I do mean it. I can handle a couple of hippies,” Elvis paused. “Free-thinkers, Lilibet. You’re a big girl and I’m a big boy. What I care about is whether you have feelings for me. Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Lilibet sighed, the weight of it falling away. 

Elvis said nothing as he lowered his head, allowing Lilibet a chance to pull away if she wanted. His lips were plush against hers, leaving the skin there buzzing. Lilibet let a whimper out as Elvis parted her lips with a slip of tongue to deepen the kiss. How had she gone months without kissing him? Lilibet fisted Elvis’ dress shirt, pulling him closer as he cradled her face between his large hands. She was scared because she knew she was falling for Elvis, too, if she hadn’t already. Elvis broke away first, his thumbs swiping affectionately along her cheeks.

“I love you,” he whispered. “And whenever you’re ready to love me, I will be here for you.”

Lilibet swallowed past the forming lump in her throat as she caught her breath. 

“What does that mean for us?” Lilibet asked slowly.

“Whatever you want it to mean. Besides, honey, you can’t shoot me down when Spot and I have a date tomorrow,” Elvis grinned.

“Oh, is that what it is? Wanting to keep your relationship with Spot ongoing. I see through your game,” Lilibet laughed, her eyes crinkling at their corners.

“Well, you haven’t run for the hills yet.”

“Good point. I don’t think I will,” Lilibet said. Elvis nodded in obvious amusement before his eyes dropped below then landed on the jukebox.

“Dance with me?” Elvis asked, his eyes landing on her again.

“I would love to,” Lilibet agreed easily, the light in her eyes remaining for the rest of the evening.

Sunday morning was an attack on Lilibet’s senses. Not because she drank too much, but it was too early after a long night of dancing and drinking and the loud, blaring buzzer of her alarm was deplorable. Elvis was the perfect gentleman with no expectations or implications dropping her off at home. Lilibet thought he was with a group of people but somehow managed to pull off being alone with her. In her weariness, she still mustered the courage to lock lips with Elvis and bid him a good night. Having sex with him would not involve her mother being under the same roof. 

She dragged herself out of bed to look somewhat presentable, opting for overalls with a T-shirt, boots (of course), and a bandanna to keep the morning dew from frizzing up her hair—either way, her braided, signature pigtails did most of the work. Lilibet replayed the weight of Elvis’ hands all over her, tempted but tame. He would kiss her bare shoulder as they danced, holding one of her hands close to his chest as they swayed. When there was just enough space between them, he would look her straight in the eye and smile like he had all the time in the world. Lilibet had been keeping the most obvious secret close to her chest and now it was out. Elvis was the reason she could drag herself out of bed and feel proud to spend her time wisely. 

Her beliefs and belief system began to slip, its woven web in her life losing value and meaning. When she thought about the commune, she supposed it was because she knew it was a cult. The benefits were held over everyone’s head like a weighted blanket. When you were comfortable, it felt amazing. When someone didn’t expect it, how suffocating and calamitous it felt. But they saved her, her sisters, and her mama, so they owed them their lives or some semblance. Lilibet didn’t know anything about being on her own except she needed money. That was why she worked for Mr. Parker in the first place. She meant to explain to her family that she wanted to be on her own, but she was still working on that part.

 Lilibet was seated on the front step, chewing at the skin of her bottom lip when Elvis drove up. He parked a ways back so the dust wouldn’t kick up from the wheels. He looked like his usual self, freshly washed jet black hair tucked away under a cowboy hat, worn jeans, and a carton of eggs in hand. Elvis smiled, bleary-eyed and looking as tired as she felt. Lilibet pushed onto her feet, wanting to cave into the idea that they return to bed. They were adults and she liked to believe that they were capable of only sleeping. 

“What’s this?” Lilibet gestured toward the carton.

“The quickest gift I could find on short notice,” Elvis explained, handing the carton to her. 

“You didn’t have to—”

“I did. These are without a favor being needed or obligation. So, what’s on the agenda today?” Elvis rubbed his palms together. His eyes wandered over to the landscape, some friendly faces milling. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Lilibet asked on a whim. Elvis’ head snapped back to her, his eyes momentarily going wide. Though he was in his late twenties, he looked more boyish than she had ever seen in his shocked state. 

“Inside… To your bedroom? That I’ve only seen once under dire circumstances?” Elvis stammered.

“Are you ‘fraid a little girl is gonna bite you?” Lilibet teased.

“Your mama won’t shoot me, will she?” Elvis gave her a look that told her to zip it. 

“The plan is the chapel down the road, but service doesn’t start for another few hours. So, our options are slim. I think I would like to lie down in bed again for a few more hours,” her lips twitched into an unwanted smirk. “If that’s alright with you?”

“Mm,” Elvis cleared his throat. “Y-Yeah, it’s alright with me if it’s alright with you, honey. Whatever you want. Church will be good. I haven’t been in a long time.”

“Well,” Lilibet said as she turned for the front door. “Hold your horses and you’ll tell me what you think. It’s still all a part of you understandin’ this place. I remember church as a girl, you know.”

The two of them stepped inside the house and Lilibet moved a little quieter. The floorboards creaked under their weight as they shuffled in. Lilibet stepped out of her boots, curling a finger for Elvis to follow her to the kitchen to put the eggs away on the counter.

“You still are a little girl,” Elvis huffed.

“You know what I mean,” Lilibet sucked her teeth, brushing past Elvis. He grabbed her arm and quickly loosened his hold.

“Nothin’ they do or say can scare me much. I’ll take it in stride.” Elvis dismissed.

“Good. You’ll see, but,” Lilibet lowered her voice. “For now, stop stompin’ ‘round and take off your boots.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Elvis agreed, dropping his head to steal a kiss. 

There went that fluttering in Lilibet’s chest again. She wanted to chase it as Elvis stepped away, his footsteps much lighter before shucking off his boots. He held them in one hand, thinking better than to leave a pair of unaccounted men’s boots at the door. Lilibet led the way upstairs, knowing every whine and screech the steps would make depending on where she stepped. She was grateful her bedroom was the closest to the stairs, and once Elvis followed in after her past the threshold, she shut the door with a click and turned the lock. Exhaling slowly, she undid the hook of her overalls on one side and the next. Elvis set his boots down at the end of the bed, walking around to the opposite side to sit. His hat followed, leaving it to hang on the post of the bed frame. Lilibet wondered how he managed to look as sure and confident in everything he did. 

“I’m gonna change back into my pajama shorts. Don’t look,” Lilibet warned. Elvis had yet to turn to look at her since he sat down on the bed.

“I won’t. I’m not.” Elvis answered plainly.

Lilibet was quick, relieved to be out of the material and in something silkier. She left her bandanna in place out of laziness as she climbed into bed beneath the covers. The two of them would fill her full mattress when she took up one side of it as it was. 

“Can I look now? And… If I’m honest, I don’t wanna wear my outside clothes in your clean bed,” Elvis said over his shoulder.

“You can look, I’m decent,” Lilibet whispered. “You can take off what you’re comfortable with. I hate not bein’ able to sleep because of somethin’ I have on.” 

She caught sight of Elvis’ raised brow and smiled. Elvis turned just enough to look at Lilibet before hooking a finger into one sock, then the other. She watched for the first time as Elvis stripped down in front of her. He stood up to pull his pants off, folding them haphazardly into a makeshift pile beside the bed. 

“Should I take off my shirt?” Elvis asked politely, turning to face her. Lilibet found it difficult to keep her focus on the more appropriate places. His hands were paused at the highest button, waiting for her response. She shut her mouth when she realized she was staring and poorly shrugged off the question.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

ELVIS

Lilibet’s poor, virgin heart. She was adorable and the problem was he liked to make her squirm. Could he sleep in his clothes if he had to? Sure, but he wouldn’t miss the chance to be close to her. He kept his shirt on because he was sure Lilibet would burst into flames if he bared any more skin. Elvis kept his eyes on her while he watched hers dart down then up and back again. He liked it, he liked knowing she was looking and that she wanted him. He slid underneath the covers, lifting his arm to coax her to his side. Lilibet pressed into him, her limbs spilling over him as the mattress accommodated the extra body. He thought he was warm, but Lilibet was a human space heater working overtime.

“Should I open a window?” Elvis rumbled, his fingertips rubbing up and down on the arm on his chest. 

“No, no, this is okay,” Lilibet squeaked. 

She was soft and always warm. Lilibet always smelled like mint and rosemary. Being as close as she was, he could smell it in her hair as if she used some kind of organic shampoo. Elvis couldn’t have been happier despite the tension ongoing at the farm. Not a single cow had been lost since he confronted Lilibet but there were losses. Most of the cattle they could wrangle back and some were attacked by predators out in the woods. Sonny told him they were looking to convict whoever the perpetrator was and he kept his mouth shut. The West family, he learned, could hold a grudge for as long as they still breathed. When he spoke to his mother on the phone, he vented to her honestly. She was one of the only people he could express frustrations or worries to. Naturally, she told him to do the right thing until he divulged that the woman he cared for was a part of it. 

“Life is never as simple as we want it to be,” his mother lectured.

And like always, she was right. 

That left Elvis with no straight answer and in Lilibet’s bed because he wanted to be. He thought he wanted ‘simple’ until he met her. Elvis hummed against her forehead, keeping his hands in appropriate places such as her back or arm. She looked tired considering he didn’t drop her off until about one in the morning. Lilibet didn’t say or move for a while, assuming she was asleep until he felt a curious hand inching toward his waistband. He shouldn’t have been hard for her as quickly but he was and he couldn’t get The Flamingos’ I Only Have Eyes For You song out of his head about her. Her touch was slightly clumsy getting there but God—he hissed as her grip found his cock. Anything she did to him could make him come. With a few months since he last felt a woman’s touch, he was ready to spring for Lilibet like an unexpected volcanic eruption. 

“Lil’ Bet,” he whispered.

“Mm?” she hummed innocently, her wrist rolling as she worked his length in her palm. 

“We can save this for another time if you want. We had a late night,” he bit out, his moans deep but soft above her. “I’ll make a mess… Work the tip a little bit, baby. Yeah, like that.” Elvis puffed out short breaths.

“Do you not like it?” Lilibet asked, disappointment in reach. 

“No—yes, honey, I do. Just… Use some spit on your hand,” Elvis breathed, opening his eyes. “I don’t want you to feel pressure to do  anything you don’t wanna do.”

“You’re not,” Lilibet answered, withdrawing her hand to spit into her palm. “It’s the first time I’ve gotten you to feel as flustered as I have.”

“You don’t know flustered, Lil’ Bet. Not yet.”

He meant it because there were things he wanted to do, to taste, and he planned to show Lilibet the greener grass himself. Instead, Lilibet had taken him by surprise with her exploration and he found fucking into her wet hand equally enjoyable. He kept his desires in check, concerned he could scare her if he turned himself loose. Elvis had long since given up on keeping his eyes open, working his way into Lilibet’s space by nuzzling her neck and the underside of her jaw to leave kisses in his wake. 

“Can I touch you?” He asked. Lilibet pressed back into the shared pillow, Elvis leaning back to gauge her reaction. She sucked him in with her big brown eyes, their almond shape half-lidded. Elvis’ cock twitched in her hand at the sight of her and she nodded in agreement. He moved onto his side and slid a hand beneath the hem of her shirt. “Kiss me,” Elvis pleaded.

She didn’t need any more encouragement. Lilibet shivered at the touch of his cool fingers sliding up and over her chest, squeezing and massaging at her breast as they kissed. Lilibet’s hand still worked around him until he touched her wrist and pulled it away. He needed to focus on her alone without the distraction. Lilibet felt herself whining as he moved over her, pulling her over by her waist to the middle of the bed. The covers were on his back, creating a slight cavern of warmth around Lilibet. He wanted to devour her but he knew every step was a risky one he couldn’t turn back from. Hell, he didn’t even have a condom on hand.

Elvis moved between her legs for the sake of room, brushing them aside with his bare thighs. He pressed kiss after kiss to her stomach and only lifted his head to push it back into the palms in his hair. His hands slid underneath her to unclasp her bra and as he did he heard the familiar sound of footsteps in the hall. Elvis steeled himself above Lilibet and she followed suit. He could feel her heartbeat thrumming wildly beneath the surface. A door clicked shut and he raised a brow at Lilibet.

“Bathroom,” she whispered.

“Do you wanna stop?” Elvis asked. He adjusted and lowered himself into Lilibet using his forearms. The fabric of his boxers and her shorts were the only things hindering direct contact. While he enjoyed the slight roll of his hips against her, he left it up to Lilibet to decide.

“I never thought my first time would be…panicked,” she admitted.

“It doesn’t have to be right now. I won’t enjoy any part of it if you dislike what’s happening. Okay? We can try some other time.” Elvis said. His brow crinkled as he waited for her reaction to sense some sort of calm from her. When she sighed and met his eyes, he felt some relief. 

“Can we just sleep ‘til then?” Lilibet asked softly. 

“Yeah, honey, whatever you want.” Elvis nodded, moving from between her legs behind her. He gathered her to his chest as she wiggled back into him and he did everything in his power to will his hard-on away. 

Elvis hardly slept at all for the next hour and a half. Lilibet woke with a start in his arms, reaching clumsily for her bedside clock for the time. She sighed and sunk back into the mattress and his arms. 

“Wasn’t gonna let you oversleep,” Elvis mumbled, sliding a hand down to the side of her thigh.

“Just makin’ sure. We should probably get goin’ before everyone wakes up.”

Elvis wanted to deny her that much when he never got to hold Lilibet that way before. He was warm and she was pliant under his touch. The day where she held no tension in her shoulders around him had come. Without another word, Elvis withdrew and moved to sit up on his side of the bed. He rolled his shoulders and leaned his head from left to right. The only sound came from the jingle of his belt and its buckle as he stood up to pull his pants back on.

“Are you disappointed in me?” Lilibet asked hesitantly. Elvis furrowed his brow as he turned to look at her and tucked his shirt back into his pants. 

“No, honey, why would you ask me that?”

“Because you didn’t get to finish and I got nervous, so…” Lilibet trailed off, looking away from him. Elvis made a sound with his tongue as he walked around to her side of the bed and caught her chin with a calloused hand.

“I’m a grown man, honey, I don’t need to force myself onto you. Hell, what kinda man would that make me? When the time is right, it will happen. That’s not right now. Come on, let’s get you up. I’ll wait outside for you while you get yourself together.” 

Elvis made his way back downstairs with his boots and hat in hand after Lilibet went first, tiptoeing toward the bathroom in the hall. He didn’t put his boots on until he was outside again and able to exhale deeply. The dirt moved beneath his shoes, scattering as he approached the truck and reached inside for a discarded cigarillo. He pried a matchbook from his front pocket and struck one to light the end. Leaning into the truck, he waved the match to put out the fire, toking at it as he looked up to where one of Lilibet’s bedroom windows would be. 

With the farm growing wary of the townspeople, he could feel the pressure rising. Someone had to be held responsible for their losses. Something told him if she knew he reported her friends, she might end things with him then and there. He sighed, letting his eyes drop as he flicked the ash from his cigarillo with his thumb. When Lilibet stepped out, refreshed, and smiling at him he thought maybe he was ready to find a new religion in her. Not because they were attending her hippie church but because he would kiss the ground she walked on. 

“Ready Freddy?” Elvis grinned, bending down to stub out his cigarillo. 

“Ready,” she called from the deck. 

They walked in a comfortable silence. At least, to Elvis, it was comfortable. He wondered if he should press the issue with Lilibet on whether she was content with how far things went. He learned from the past that she could have a million thoughts racing and cover it well with a mask. Their shoulders bumped together as always and Elvis took it upon himself to hold her hand. Lilibet looked at him, showing how little she expected of him as the surprise crossed her face. He squeezed her hand, his eyes softening as he looked at her. Lilibet brought her other hand over the ball their hands created and led the rest of the way into the chapel. Elvis plucked his hat from his head with his free hand.

The building was far nicer than Elvis imagined. From the outside, he believed it was a simple wooden chapel that the wind could blow over. Inside were lacquered wooden beams upholding the high A-frame and windows up high that allowed beams of sunlight to hit patrons. The back wall didn’t have the typical daunting image of Jesus crucified but simply a large, hand-carved white cross and rich purple drapes on either side. Lilibet soon tugged him toward an empty pew. By the looks of it, they were undoubtedly early. 

“My mother and sisters will join us. Make sure you leave some room,” Lilibet commented as she sat in the end corner.

The second he was moving to sit next to Lilibet, a short and stocky man was gunning it in his direction. Elvis’ legs brushed Lilibet’s as he scooted past her and placed his hat on the pew in preparation for introductions.

“Who’s this comin’ up, honey?” Elvis whispered.

“Who?” Lilibet turned her head to see who he was speaking about then cursed. “That’s Joe. He’s one of the Community Leaders.” She said sourly.

“It’s not often we get a new face that comes around. Joe Esposito,” Joe proffered a hand to Elvis. “One of the Community Leaders here in The Haven.” 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Elvis Presley. Usually, I’m on the West Family Farm workin’,” Elvis offered, taking the hand in front of him to shake. 

“What’s got you all the way out here?” Joe raised a brow, releasing Elvis’ hand. The implication was laced with plenty of unsaid suggestions. Either way, it left an unsettling feeling in Elvis’ belly. 

“I could ask the same. You sound like you’re from the Northeast. I like to see what my girl gets up to,” Elvis said. 

Lilibet stood then, clasping her hands together in front of her. She was wearing the same thing as she had been earlier which made Elvis look around—no one person dressed alike. Even Joe was dressed up, opposite to some of his community members. 

“And that’s all. He’s not lookin’ to join us in the community,” Lilibet interjected. 

“I’m only being friendly to your company, Lilibet,” Joe playfully scolded though his eyes told another story.

“Of course,” Lilibet said with the same glimmer of disdain. 

“Well, it was nice to meet you, sir. I’m sure we’ll get to speak after the service.” Elvis tipped his head, a silent dismissal.

“Nice meetin’ you, too, Elvis,” Joe said, leaving them alone again. 

Elvis’ eyes tracked him until he was far enough away and they were sitting. He stretched his arm out behind Lilibet’s shoulders and tried to catch her gaze. 

“What was that about?” Elvis mumbled.

“He’s a creep. I remember when I was younger, he just had this air about him. I didn’t like how he spoke to me like I was being served on a platter. Besides… I didn’t know if you still wanted to speak to one of the Community Leaders about everything. It’s your right and I’m no one to stop you from revealin’ the truth.” Lilibet said tersely.

“Lil’ Bet,” he spoke sweetly. “I’m not lookin’ to hurt you. While I don’t like seein’ the Wests stressed out about their losses, they can recover. I pride myself on right and wrong, I know I would be hurtin’ you in the process.”

“So… You’ve decided not to say anything?” Lilibet asked.

“I have and I want you to trust me. I won’t tell anyone about what happened,” Elvis grabbed one of her hands, brushing his lips against her knuckles. “Good?”

Lilibet nodded. The worst was yet to come. Normally, courting a girl meant he encountered her parents sooner rather than later. They were behind schedule and there he was, an outsider, courting a young woman severely enthralled by a religious sect. Elvis didn’t often let things get to him but when he sat back and realized where he was, he felt like a lamb waiting for slaughter. 

His attention was focused on the abhorrently gargantuan cross when Lilibet bumped her arm into him and he looked confused before seeing three ladies standing beside the pew. They all had their mother’s face, so there was no mistaking who they were. Lilibet’s mother, Ada, stood tall and proud on a similar thin frame and dressed up as others of her generation would be to the nines. She held the handle of her small purse in her hands as she waited for an introduction. Lillian, the middle child, looked at Elvis with familiarity and a half-smirk. Addie, the youngest and no more than eight years old, didn’t have much of a clue what was going on. Both sisters were dressed similarly to Lilibet in that their mother didn’t force them to wear anything other than what they were comfortable in. Elvis sprung up and Lilibet followed to make room.

“Mrs. Stevens, it’s good to meet you finally. Formally,” Elvis said, proffering a hand.

“I didn’t know we would be havin’ company here at church. It’s nice to see you again. Elvis, was it?” Ada took his hand, their hand-hold gentle. Their hands fell apart seconds later.

“Yes, ma’am. Elvis Presley and you two must be Lillian and Addie. It’s nice to meet you both. Your sister talks highly of you two. I’ve always wanted a sibling,” Elvis smiled warmly. 

“Is he your boyfriend?” Addie piped up, staring at her eldest sister. Lilibet’s brows shot up as she looked between the three of them. Lillian was laughing.

“Addie,” Lilibet blushed. She gestured for Elvis to move down and he picked up his hat. Ada sat on the end with Addie next to her, then Lillian next to Lilibet. 

“She does have a crush on me,” Elvis leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially to the youngest. Addie gasped and laughed. Lilibet bumped his arm and Elvis quickly feigned an injury, rubbing at the spot. Individuals moved behind the pulpit as people took their seats. An older gentleman with long, graying hair and a goatee to match braced his hands on the stand.

“We’re going to be a little delayed here this morning. We’ve got Sheriff Schilling from the town outside wantin’ to ask some questions. As you all may have heard, the West Family Farm had some of their animals go missin’,” the man explained and promptly held up his hands as people began murmuring. “No one is pointin’ the finger at anyone. But please give Sheriff Schilling the respect he deserves for the next hour.” 

Elvis’ dark brows came together and Lilibet looked at him, the fear in her eyes obvious. He pursed his lips and moved to stand, excusing himself with his hat in hand past the ladies. 

“I’ll be right back,” Elvis muttered. His hat was on his head before he stepped outside and found the Sheriff, Sonny, and Red standing there. “What the hell is goin’ on, Sonny?”

“The Sheriff said someone in town gave a tip that this hippie retreat might have been behind our troubles,” Sonny said.

“Yeah, E, we didn’t just come to this conclusion ourselves,” Red shrugged, his thumbs hooked on his belt loops.

“This is embarrassin’ the hell outta me. Lilibet just introduced me to her mother and sisters. They haven’t even started their church service. Can’t you come back later?” Elvis frowned, scanning their faces for a modicum of empathy.

“No can do,” Sheriff Schilling said. “If a crime was committed, I have to investigate it. We’re looking at either a misdemeanor or felony for trespassing, theft, and possible restitution for losses. One of my deputies is on his way now to help speed up the process but there’s nothing else I can do.” 

Elvis bit down on the inside of his cheek, letting his anger simmer. Who could have possibly known to point the finger in Lilibet’s direction? He bore his hands down onto his hips and stepped aside from the doors, picturing his Lilibet in handcuffs. Something in his chest stirred as he began devising a backup plan; one where he would convince her to skip town if he needed to. 

Shit. 

[rainsinheaven-if]

☆彡Progress Report # O1

Hello! This is the first progress report for my upcoming IF Rains In Heaven. These progress reports will be posted periodically (either once a month or once every two months) to update everyone with how writing and coding is going.

☆ Deadlines and Goals Summary ☆

Current Word Count: 6.1K Prologue Progress: 99% completed Chapter 1 Progress: 50% completed Writing Completion Deadline: December 31st 2024 First Demo Completion Deadline: End of March 2025

Keep reading for a detailed report

☆ December progress ☆

As of today, I have written 6.1K words for both the Prologue and Chapter 1, unedited and uncoded. I'm almost done writing the scenes where MC first meets and gets to know Ethos, Oliver, and V. I should be about 50% done with writing Chapter 1.

Outside of story writing, I've been making changes to the personality and behavior statistics I plan on implementing for the MC. The statistics are now more aligned with traits someone may develop as a result of childhood trauma and abuse. I've also edited the story outline, moving certain scenes that was supposed to be in Chapter 1, into their own chapter. This was because I believed Chapter 1 would be too long if I inputted what was planned instead of splitting it. Now, Chapter 1 and 2 will be set when MC is 5 years old - the start of everything going downhill - and Chapter 3 will time skip to their current ages where MC is 20 years old. I am also contemplating make a small change to m!Y's name so that instead of Yaran, it would be something like Yale. Not sure yet though.

For the remaining half of December, I will continue to work on writing Chapter 1 and also placing the final touches to the UI on twine (i.e. saves, accessibility functions etc.) so that I can work on coding more freely in January.

☆ Goals for the New Year ☆

Coding of the prologue and Chapter 1 will (hopefully) start in January and last until the end of February. I do have classes then so the amount of work I put into coding each day will be limited.

The goal is to have the demo out and running by the end of March, but my personal target would be beginning or mid-March. I have no set date yet.

I'm also deciding whether to ask for beta-readers. I've never been confident in my writing and it would be helpful to have some people identify errors that I missed.

☆ Chapter 1 Teasers ☆

Chapter 1 (and 2) will officially introduce you to 4 out of 6 romantic interests, though that is not the main focus. These two chapters will mainly be focused developing skills, formulating opinions, detailing appearances, and the downfall of your relationship with your family.

Chapter 1 specifically, will be quite a rollercoaster. It starts happy and pure, but the ending turns dark and heartbreaking. You might be in for a ride!

☆ Final Words ☆

In the meantime, I will be answering any asks about the story and/or the characters. Some asks will take longer for me to respond to but I'll be sure to answer all of them, even if it's to say “I can't give you an answer that won’t spoil the story”. I'll also try to start posting character profiles for the characters. Probably starting with Nolan. Let me know what information you want to see about the characters!

Thank you for all the love I got in the past couple weeks. It hasn't even been a month and we’re at 400+ followers! I’m happy to know that many of you are excited for my IF and I hope I reach everyone’s expectations. Just a reminder though that this is my first time doing something like this (creating an IF) so please be patient and kind with my work.

Hope everyone has a happy holiday!

Dated: December 14, 2024

[mooncello]

Hi friends. I posted chapter 5 of more than a footnote last Sunday. It's over on ao3.

I'm working through some beats for chapter 6. Unlike some of you magnificent plotters, I hate outlines. They feel constricting to me. And the story shifts and evolves as I write. Characters reveal stuff to me as we spend more time together, and sometimes that necessitates plot changes or deeper subplots. It's also my greedy curious distractable brain. Like: Oh, but what if this happens? What if he did this instead? Truly, squirrel brain. But y'know those lil bushy-tailed fuckers can unintentionally plant oak trees so ... I will follow those acorn trails and play with a new thought or question, even if it wasn't originally plotted, to see whether it has a place in the story. It's kinda like having an ongoing conversation with the story as it's being written. It's humbling af and takes twice as long, I'm sure, than if I wrote an outline and stuck with it. But I've tried the detailed plotting thing, and it just doesn't work for me.

So I don't have anything from chapter 6 to share just yet. But I do have something else. It almost feels like a tease, because I don't know when I'll actually sit down and write the rest of this fic, but I finally figured out what direction lost boys is going. (Sometimes you follow the squirrel, and sometimes you let a story rest to see what emerges from quiet stasis.) I'm excited about it again. Which feels amazing. Here are way more than six sentences from chapter 3, Baz POV:

“How old were you,” I ask softly, “when you first came here?” “Eight.” He switches his hands behind his head and moves his shoulder blades against the earth, like he’s trying to get more comfortable. I have a sudden bolt of reckless courage. “Here,” I say and sit up fully. I scoot closer, angle my body, and wrap my palm around the curve of his head. Thankfully, he understands what I’m communicating and shifts until his head is resting in my lap. I suddenly find Simon staring directly up at me. An easy smile slopes across his face. “Hey,” he says. “Hi.”  I feel my own mouth stretch into a responding smile. There’s a delightful tumble of butterflies in my stomach. Without giving it any thought, my fingers thread through his hair, nails skimming his skull and then pulling away with curls between knuckles. The slightest of tugs. Release. Then I repeat the sequence over and over again. Simon melts against my thigh, and his eyes flutter closed. A tiny, contented moan leaves him, and I grow momentarily dizzy because I did that. That sound was because of me. “Feel good?” I murmur. “Mmph.” I’m glad his eyes are closed and can’t see me smirking. I’m so goddamn pleased. And he looks incredible like this. Relaxed and untroubled, draped over my lap.

tags under the cut!

thank you for the tags today @monbons and @orange-peony

🩵 ✨@drowninginships @valeffelees @run-for-chamo-miles @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony

@youarenevertooold, @shrekgogurt, @hushed-chorus, @whatevertheweather, @fatalfangirl

@cutestkilla, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @emeryhall, @raenestee

@iamamythologicalcreature, @bookish-bogwitch @thewholelemon, @best--dress, @rimeswithpurple

@ileadacharmedlife, @skeedelvee, @monbons, @j-nipper-95

@ic3-que3n, @theearlgreymage, @theimpossibledemon, @brilla-brilla-estrellita

@facewithoutheart, @larkral, @messofthejess

[kitsune024]

|| Part 2 ||

Bucky and Steve's Excellent Adventure by blue_beans I Chapters: 48/48 I Completed Post-Avengers: Endgame Bucky Barnes is very suicidal for a good chunk of this, Sentient Infinity Stones, Fix-It fic, Action/Adventure, Time Travel, slow burn

Six months ago, Steve set out on a final mission to return the infinity stones to their proper timelines, and returned a minute later having lived out a life of peace and contentment with Peggy Carter in the past. He died in his sleep a few days later, surrounded by his friends. Or so Bucky assumes. He wouldn't know, he'd been busy being locked up on the Raft while the government decided whether or not to pardon him for the whole Winter Soldier thing. What with the court-mandated therapy and the constant surveillance by alphabet agencies and the crushing weight of his past, he's not sure if giving him a chance at "normal life" is more cruel than the alternative. But he's doing fine. Great, actually, so don't ask. He didn't have a nightmare. Especially not that strangely disturbing one about Steve... *** AKA I wanted to write the reverse time-heist and I'm still salty about Endgame. This is the result.

Seasons of War by eretria I Chapters 11/11 I Completed Friends to Lovers, World War II, war horrors, Dark

Chasing Bucky, always a step behind, Steve remembers the cycle of seasons that took him from the raw and naive young man to the Captain America who led the Howling Commandos into hell and, except for Bucky, out again. As his memories center on Bucky, one question haunts him: Is the Bucky he knew in the war the same one he knew before?

ampersand by kaydeefalls I Chapters 1/1 I one shot World War II, Friends to Lovers, the Winter Soldier started long before Bucky fell from the train

They've been steveandbucky since they were kids, but that ignores the parts of their lives that don't wrap around each other, that never did. (Bucky needs to figure out who he is, just him, with or without Steve.)

In Vain by kireteiru I Chapters 1/1 I one shot James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers(unrequited), Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Endgame, All hurt no comfort, not a fix it :(

"Nothing of the heart remains, Even if we could've stayed, We've been here long enough, Long enough to know it's all in vain. Everything we tried to say, Up until the final day, I guess we said enough, Said enough to know it's all in vain." _ "In Vain", Within Temptation (Resist) A choice was made, and now the world will bear its consequences.

i'm the furthest thing from heaven, but the closest to home by @buckyismybicycle I Chapters: 6/6 I Completed Guardian Angel Bucky, Identity Reveal, Canon Divergence, Memory Loss

When Steve loses Bucky in Kreischberg, he’s lost the only thing left he cares about. He crashes the Valkyrie into the Arctic, ready to be reunited with his love, but instead, he’s saved by an angel. Except this angel isn’t like the ones he’s read about — no, his angel is armed to the teeth and has wings the colour of blood and night. Yet, there’s something eerily familiar about this angel.

Good God, Let Me Give You My Life by @bellefyre I Chapters 6/6 I Completed Bucky/others, One-Sided Relationship, Non-Consensual Touching, rape, Hydra, Steve/Bucky is Endgame

5+1 meme, five people over the decades who fell in love with the Winter Soldier and died because of him and the one person the Winter Soldier loved and lived because of him.

How to Woo the Winter Soldier by @writeonclara I Chapters 6 /6 I Completed funny fic, gift giving, Steve falls for the Winter Soldier before finding out his Identity, Courting, Identity Reveal, Identity Porn, bad ideas

“I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said. “What,” Natasha said. “What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier. “Steve, no,” Clint groaned. Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier.

Ready to Comply by @exclamation I Chapters 31/31 I Completed Canon Divergence - Post-CA: The Winter Soldier, Dehumanization, Hurt/Comfort-But Mostly Hurt, Angst, Protective Steve Rogers

The asset's orders at the end of The Winter Soldier weren't to kill Captain America, but to capture him, so that he could be wiped and turned into another asset. The asset has succeeded in that mission, capturing its target and taking him back to the Hydra base. But the Hydra soldiers are dead, captured, or fled, so there is no one there to give the asset new orders. Alone with its captive, the asset has no instructions on how it is meant to act. But the more time it spends with its target, the more old protocols start to assert themselves, like the protocol that when that face is hurt and bleeding, the asset is supposed to clean away the blood.

From Grit to Pearl by @bluesimplicity73 I Chapters 38/38 I Completed Bucky & Rebecca Barnes, Bucky Recovering, Body Horror, BAMF Bucky, BAMF Rebecca Barnes, Angst, AU - Canon Divergence, Hydra

He does not have a name. He has been called many things over the years; a weapon, a ghost, HYDRA’s Fist, the Soldier, and from what they have told him his work has shaped the century. But he does not have a name. His name, like so many other things, has been taken from him, stolen. Forgotten. Until the day it is not, and remembering, he breaks free, killing his handler and making his escape in a desperate bid for freedom. Frightened, lost and hurt, he seeks out the last person in the world he can trust, his baby sister, now an almost eighty-year-old widow, somehow knowing she is the only one who can help him. It is a difficult journey, one filled with pain, tears, and things that should not be possible. But also with recovery and redemption, rebirth and miracles, family and hope. This story is a love letter between Bucky and his sister Rebecca, the world, and eventually his childhood best friend, Steve Rogers, the boy he once loved. But ultimately, it is the love letter Bucky writes to himself, as he reclaims who he once was, discovers who he is now, builds a new life for himself and realizes he might, just might, be as strong, as beautiful, as precious as a pearl.

Bookmark Series

Til the Sun Goes Down by @scyllaya I Part 1 - 2 I Bucky & Loki, Thor & Loki, Kid Loki

Stucky with Fanart

to memory now I can't recall by @etharei | Chapters: 16/16 I Completed Time Travel, World War II, Memory Loss, Identity Porn, Alien Technology The Good Monster by Taste_is_Sweet | Chapters: 2/2 | Completed Canon Divergence, Transformation, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, Self-Sacrifice, Self-Harm despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by @praximeter | Chapters: 20/20 | Completed Non-Consensual Body Modification, Canon Divergence, Identity Reveal, Drug Withdrawal, Body Horror, identity Porn, American Sign Language The Second Labor by @aidaronan I Chapters: 18/18 I Completed wartime imagery and violence, pre-serum steve, Alternative Timeline, Psychological Torture, Medical Torture, AU - Canon Divergence

Bookmark Series

Ipseity by @skyisgray I Part 1-3 I Completed Dissociative Identity Disorder, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Torture

[somberjoon]

METANOIA [9]

✩ pairing: wolf hybrid nj x cheetah hybrid reader (f) - eventual ot7 x reader

✩ genre: soul-searching , romance🔞 , found-family , healing , angst , happy ending

✩ word count: 5.2k

✩ chapter warnings: uncertainty in behavior and emotions , anxiety , crying and loss of a grasp on what to do , some Y/N lore in this one with abandonment themes.

✩ summary: She doesn't know. There is so much about her and her cheetah that she hasn't had the privilege to understand. Unknown backgrounds and unknown emotions clash with feelings of want- hopes of being herself unapologetically. Namjoon seems to be someone that can help her- but can the rest of his pack truly be what she has wanted and needed?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 , ch.3 , ch.4 , ch.5 , ch.6 , ch.7 , ch.8 , ch.9 , ch.10

Y/N

She knew it wasn't going to be easy, but sitting in this office with Mila and Namjoon having a 'stare-off' is far more awkward than anything she's experienced or hoped for. They both were thinking- more-so Mila than Namjoon- but now she doesn't know who's going to break the silence first. Four minutes is too long when you're counting the seconds. 

"Maybe I can give my verbal consent?" Y/N tries to lighten the situation. 

"It isn't about verbal consent or whether or not I think it's best for you. Namjoon, you jumped into this process without even considering what I had set up for her." Mila counters.

"I know my priorities. Safety for someone I care about." Namjoon then counters her.

"This is not a conversation you should even be here for, you are not her legal guardian or pack, nor are you going to say 'yet' and act like it means anything." 

They bounce off of each other, Namjoon trying his best to act like he has the upper hand. In all fairness, he was just anxious about Mila saying no, and wanted to get a jump on things to show he was serious about this. 

“If I could?” Y/N tries again with hesitance. Maria gives her a sighing nod. “I wanted him to come with me. I didn’t want to be alone, not after everything. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know first, but I want this home to be my first choice if we could prioritize it. If it means that I no longer have the organization behind me…”

“You’ll still be under the organization Y/N, it’s not a simple chosen rehoming that changes your qualifications to be under the organization. Yes, our main priority is rehoming and making sure hybrids are in safe environments- but we provide so much that you would still need the connections for. You don’t have to worry about that. However, because their home is not one that is directly under our own lists and the pack members aren’t all background checked, it makes it harder for you if this is something that won’t work out. You won’t technically qualify for the rehoming part any longer if you go through with this- as the organization has proof that you can find a stable home or roof over your head on your own accord. It’s a messy thing that I personally hate, but it’s in the contract.” Mila informs. 

“When will she need to decide by?” Namjoon asks, leaving no time for Y/N to process what she said. 

“I can give you candidates that are willing and information on our shelter, just to see what your options are. I’m sorry to say that it is a short list. But, I’d rather you go over all your options, just so you know you have them and don’t feel pressured. Final decisions should be made within the next couple of days. Legal matters are far easier when you have an address and contact information, so as soon as possible is best.” 

-

Processing everything in silence feels wrong. Usually she prefers that, most of the time she prefers it. But, as Namjoon drives back to the pack home with Y/N in the passenger seat- the silence feels infuriating. 

"Can we talk about this?" The question comes out a bit more hostile than necessary, grabbing Namjoon's attention immediately. She's irritated more than normal- an emotion she doesn’t often feel, especially with her wanting to make the new chance at life worth something.

"Yes, of course. I just didn't want to make you feel like you had to take my thoughts into consideration. What's best is that you create your own conclusion with your wants and needs considered above all." 

Why is it so irritating? Everything feels like a choice that could lead to her demise. Everything feels raw and bleeding and her own decisions have been the ones to fuck her over even more. Yes, she didn’t put herself into this situation by choice- but, it's still all her. She hates being in control when she's exhausted and irritated and fucking sad. 

"I'm too tired to think on my own right now." She admits, her voice softening only a little. 

"You can rest as long as you'd like when we get to the house, only Seokjin is there so no one will bother you." 

"I don't want to sleep, Namjoon. I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of feeling like a burden in every space I'm given. I'm tired of feeling unwanted. I'm tired of not being fought for. Everyone tip-toes around me like I'm a fucking child. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to live life and make mistakes and bounce back to lift myself up. I'm tired of having to figure it out all at once, instead of it being one step at a time. I just want-" She cuts herself off, not wanting to admit how fucking badly she just wants to live with him and be safe and cared for. 

Maria was so kind, so caring and loving towards her- she was waiting for someone that she could be there for. But, then she got Y/N. A fuck up that doesn't know anything. She knew she'd make mistakes, but this is far too much for anyone to handle. No wonder no one wants to take her in. Namjoon probably submitted those reports of his volunteer time and that could just add to the resentment people have for her. Namjoon invited her to stay, and even his pack voted for it, but it still feels like something she has to decide. It doesn't feel like he's fighting for her, more so suggesting that she put his consideration at the top of her list. Like the perfect hybrid he is- he's thinking of her feelings first.

"Go ahead, say what you want." Namjoon pushes with gentleness. Even that seems to push her farther over. 

"I was only 8 when I started living on my own. Even then, I don't remember any parents or a lab or fucking anything. Everyone I've told or asked has assumed it was an orphanage that I left. Only I didn't leave it. I wouldn't leave a safe place like that so young. I went to sleep one night and woke up in the middle of fucking nowhere- I raised myself Namjoon. For 17 years, I was in and out of shelters and in and out of towns for my own safety. I don't remember anyone telling me what I needed to do. Ever. I never had a mom or a dad or a guardian to teach me. I figured everything out on my own. Nobody cares to even acknowledge you when you're dirty and smelly and skittish. I just want an answer. I want a fucking step by step instruction like a child gets when they're learning to ride a bike or make a sandwich. I don't want to decide anymore. I'm tired of trying to figure out what's best for me. Why can't someone else figure out what's best for me?" 

Her tears fall with no indication, no break in her voice or lull of her breath. 

"I want- I want a mom right now." 

Namjoon pulls over onto the side of the street and turns on his hazards. He takes out his own phone without a word and finds whatever he's looking for just to shove the phone into her line of sight. 

'Maria Caddel'

"I can't talk to her." Y/N mumbles.

"She cares about you. She knows you and she wants the best for you- just like a mother would. You are both in similar positions, I know she's been beating herself up about not being able to help you. You could help each other. She gets to know you're safe, and you get to ask for advice- from a mom." 

She feels awful. Maria was really so much of what she was looking for and now- she has nothing, again. 

Please ask her. I can help you, but please try.

It's a voice in her head that seems far more level-headed than she has been these last two days. They're right, though. She needs to try

She grabs the phone from Namjoon's hand, pressing the green call button before she can even think twice, and puts the warm device up to her ear. Her tears already streak the screen. 

"Hi sweetie, how is she?" Maria picks up almost immediately. Y/N doesn’t even breathe, she's scared and shocked to find Maria asks about her first. 

"Hello? Namjoon?"

Hearing her voice, how tired she sounds, breaks her heart. She has no idea what all she's been through during the process of packing the small amount of Y/N's things. A sob pulls from her before she can stop it, her lungs craving the pull of oxygen. 

"Oh, darling is that you? Oh I'm so sorry. What's wrong? Do you need help?" Maria's voice immediately turns soft and worrisome when she hears Y/N. 

"Mm-hm." A whining hum of a 'yes' is all Y/N can get out. 

"You need help? What do you need, angel?" 

Only after a few shaky breaths is Y/N able to get a response out, and even then it's barely an audible response. 

"What do I do?" She already knows she looks like a mess, still bruised and cut and bawling her eyes out in Namjoon's passenger seat- but somehow she still feels shame, picking at the band on the bottom of Namjoon's borrowed hoodie. She calms herself by feeling the texture, pushing on with a more understood tone.

"I don't know what to do. I said yes to Namjoon, but what if that doesn't work out? The organization-"

"I know darling," she starts with a tone that shows composure. She's showing that she's here for Y/N- strong and teaching. "They told me what would happen. Do you trust Namjoon?"

Y/N wasn't expecting her to ask that. If anything, she thought she'd ask how she felt about it all- a draining question she would've just sobbed more at the sound of.

"I do." She doesn't even have to think about it anymore. 

"I do too. I think he'd keep you safe, even if somehow it didn't work out. I think you should go with him. I will always give you a second option. I will help you pay for whatever you need in a place that you could start out in if necessary. But you have a great chance to live life with others first. You should give it a try. Mess up, manage relationships, and just try. Okay?"

It feels like a heavy cement block that sat on her chest is slowly lifting. Even her limbs feel lighter. But best of all, her heart aches just a little less. 

"Okay."

"Don't let anything that has weighed you down be the deciding factor in how you live. You have a chance, an amazing chance with a safe pack. Live, Y/N."

"I will try."

"Always try."

-

Y/N was really bummed to hear Namjoon suggest that she ‘think her decision over’ for the night instead of driving her back to the organization the same day. She had a lot of pent up adrenaline from being so terrified, and that just made her want to go in as soon as possible to finalize her choice. 

“I really just want you to have a night in the house. A sleeping night where you can see our routine so that you can be sure you feel safe there.”

By the time they are to his pack home, she realizes how thankful she is that he suggested she wait. As she is now extremely exhausted and it’s truly helping to dull the anxiety she feels being her to see the whole pack. She still needs to tell Namjoon. This would be the perfect time- before they finalize anything. Without her immediate response, Namjoon assumes otherwise.

“I can still take you back for the last night with th-”

“No. I don’t want to go back there.” She says firmly, coming out with little authority. "They know that I'm coming tonight?" 

"Jin-hyung already made sure one of the guest rooms were made up and cooked you a dinner to have separately if you'd like. He's very excited to hear your opinion on them." He gives her a cheeky smile that she can barely return, but it's with honesty. She has just realized how much she missed the fox. "The only thing that might be surprising is Taehyung has preferred being in his cheetah form since we didn't allow him to bombard you, so if he's still deciding upon seeing you again in his cheetah form- just let us know if you're uncomfortable." 

"A-and the others? Are they truly okay with me being here?"

"They want you to be safe, just as I do. They don't mind at all, Y/N." 

"This is a lot scarier than I thought it'd be." She huffs a small laugh, looking at the house that houses a group of guys that have yet to see her in her state now. "Would it- be weird? If I just let you know a small detail, before we go in? About what happened."

"Not at all, I'll take it however you'd like me to."

Y/N thinks about what specific pieces she wants to give up just before going inside of a place full of men- a safe place, but with men nonetheless.

"I only trust you to touch me in any way at the moment. I want to warm up to Taehyung, and I don't want hugs right now. Nothing constrained."

"Of course. I can text them right now, if you'd like. Or we can play by ear. They know not to touch you without your permission- they would never. But, all the mushy cats love it in ranging ways so- up to you." He informs her.

"Text, please. I just don't want to make it about me once I'm in there. Eating separately for now is fine as well." 

Namjoon looks at her, not her scars or bruises, but into her eyes for a little too long. She wishes she knew what he thought, why his gaze is so soft when it lands on her.

"Okay." He finally says. 

The house is so warm. Even the energy inside of it is a welcoming blanket of hope. There's a light thumping of bass and music that can be heard from one of the rooms Namjoon pointed out being a gym. An amazing scent of food and some type of candle or sprayed scent lingers underneath. The warmth seems to be the only hold she wants to have around her forever. 

"Do you want to say hi to Seokjin-hyung?" Namjoon quietly asks, again taking the time to set her last used slippers in front of her feet. 

"Yes, I don't want to be mean." She gives him a smile that he catches onto immediately, giving her a knowing one back. She really did miss the fox, and she was sad to not see him when he visited the hospital with Namjoon. 

"The sweet cub is back." Seokjin points out with a pretty smile. Y/N can't help but give him one right back. Seokjin is typing away at a computer, doing something Y/N can’t see from the doorway. Again, Namjoon is right behind her giving her the confidence she needs. A gentle, warm hand is placed on her shoulder to encourage her to keep up the conversation. 

“Uh, how are you?” She asks, not knowing how to get to the point. 

“I’m good, Y/N, how are you?” 

“I’m okay…I just wanted to thank you for- everything? I don’t know how to show my gratitude yet but, I want to make it up to you somehow. I’m sure Namjoon told you about our deal so-” 

“I would love to have you around to test my recipes at any time of the day. And I’m sure the others will try to drag you along in their array of requests. Your place here is to rest and be safe first, we’ll decide those later on when you feel up for it. Sounds good?” She can feel the authority he has over the pack despite Namjoon being the leader. 

“Okay. Please let me know what I can help with, though.” 

Seokjin gives her a warning of a look that has her leaving with Namjoon quickly so as to not push her luck. 

“Dinner is in the microwave!” He yells before Namjoon can shut the door all the way.

“He’s pretty set on how he feels with you being here. He wants to take care of you in any way that you want or that he can. If for some reason I’m not around, hyung is the one you’ll have to put up with.”

Namjoon must be able to tell how she feels about that, because he’s explaining more for her to grasp onto so as to not feel like a burden. 

“He always does it for us. He’s assertive but soft and caring. He just wants to keep us healthy and happy all the time. He worries a lot, so don’t be afraid to tell him off- he’ll always respect your space.” Y/N’s sigh is audible and embarrassing. 

“Okay-”

“Joonie-hyung!” An excited Jimin pulls Namjoon into a sweaty hug that has Y/N hiding behind his figure to give herself some distance from him. Namjoon gives him a gross sound at the damp guy before Jimin peaks around to see Y/N. “I’m glad I caught you before you went up to the room. Jin-hyung wanted me to prepare some clothes for you. Hobi-hyung and I are the smallest, so we put two sets out for you, just so you had a choice in wearing something comfortable.They’re freshly cleaned and have no scent.”

Y/N can’t help but melt at the gesture. She’s still nervous around them all, just waiting for something to backfire and push her down several notches in his progress. But, one thing she knows for sure, is that the whole pack is thoughtful in their own ways. Even if it’s suggested by another member, they oblige and do everything to the best of their abilities. She appreciates that more than they probably think she does. 

“Thank you so much. I can wash them tomorrow as well.” 

“Don’t worry about that, just eat well and rest well, okay?” His smile is far too contagious, a thing that seems to beam and strike you in the chest- forcing you to give one back. 

“Okay, thank you again, Jimin.” 

-

Namjoon

He knew it'd be hard to pull himself away from her. Y/N in his home, eating food Seokjin made once again, accompanied by the wearing of his hoodie and tucked so pretty into one of his home's beds. He can't keep his fucking eyes off of her. 

"Is this awkward?" She randomly asks between bites of the stew he reheated for her. 

"No? Are you uncomfortable?" He asks, making sure to look around and see if anything would make her feel unsafe. 

"No. It's just- don't you want to go spend time with your pack? It's Monday evening, Namjoon. And you’ve been with me all day today." 

"They'll be okay without me for a night." He shrugs. Despite the nonchalance he gives, he never gave Y/N an actual explanation. She definitely catches that, giving him an evaluating look. “I’m taking care of you. They know that, they are okay with that. If you need my focus for a bit then they understand.” 

She still doesn’t give him a response, eyeing him with an obvious display of thoughts clouding her mind. He has to think of a better way to say it- to be less burdensome for her. Even if everything he’s done has been out of want, pure want and need to make sure she’s safe and comfortable. 

“Are you comfortable with me being here with you and not leaving you alone?”

A nod in response. 

“I want to be here. I want to make you comfortable. I want to make sure you’re safe, Y/N. I’ve lived with these guys for a while, a long time for some of them. They understand why we both need this- to be as content as possible in the circumstances.” He explains with the most sincerity he can muster without spilling more than they’re both ready for. He’s sat at the edge of the bed, his body turned towards her with his knee on the bed. She’s set criss-cross, leaning against the headboard with the tray of just-about-finished food on her lap. There’s still something in him that needs something, but he can’t risk more right now. He would never do anything before she’s ready. Even a simple touch could be unwanted and could draw her back farther and farther. That’s not fair for her at all. So, he suppresses the urge to reach out for her as she thinks and tries to believe it with all her might. 

“Okay.” Is all she says at first. “Could I- uh- well you know I didn’t have a nightmare when you first visited me-”

“Mm-hm.”

“Could I have something that…smells like you? So I can sleep.” 

He can’t help but think about the effects that would have on both of them. She’s safe with his scent, he’s content with his scent on her. It would quell that little voice in him that needs more. 

“I’ll grab you something once you’re set for bed. Are you still hungry? Or do you want to shower and get changed while I go make sure the pack’s all set?”

“I’m done, thank you. Is that the bathroom?” She points to a closed door across the room. 

“Yep, you don’t have to leave your room if you need it. Towels are already folded and in the large cabinet. I’ll be right back. You can lock the door, I’ll knock when I’m back, is that okay?”

“Yeah.” 

He silently takes the tray of food from her. Lingering on the look of content she gives him. He recognizes her expressions with her being so open- he loves that he’s seen so many now. Despite him saying she could lock the door, he clicks the knob into the locked position and gives the knob a little wiggle when he’s finally shut the door, making sure it’s locked. When he turns towards the stairs to make his way down, he gets stopped by a very irritated cheetah. 

“I’m sorry, Tae, she’s getting ready for bed right now. Give her a little time and I’ll see if she’s up for seeing others before bed.” 

The cheetah gives him a huff before slinking up to her door to lie right in front of it. He gets comfortable quickly, not giving Namjoon a second look. Namjoon goes on his way, now finding Seokjin in the kitchen doing the dishes with Jungkook. 

“All finished.” He presents the tray to them, letting the fox take it with a content smile. 

“Is she doing okay?” 

“I think so.”

-

Y/N

God this is the best shower she’s ever been in. She thought the Caddel home had the best shower she’d ever experienced. But this one is perfect. Just like everything seems to be when it’s connected to Namjoon and his pack. The water pressure seems to his her bruises with enough pressure to feel massaging more than anything. The soap in the shower seems up for grabs, making her skin and fur feel softer than they’d ever felt. She got the temperature perfect to tire herself down and be happily clean. 

Even their clothing is soft and perfect against her skin. She doesn’t know who’s is who’s but she preferred the black, baggy shirt that was slightly more soft. She chose whatever pair of shorts and was ready to try out the big bed properly with her hair still up in a towel- but a familiar scent outside her door catches her attention. Oh, how she missed that scent without even realizing it. She clicks open the lock without a second thought, finding the literal cheetah at her bare feet. 

“Taehyung?” He opens his eyes to look up at her. Taking his time getting up and stretching his pretty, long body. Y/N is truly stunned at the sight in front of her. She’s sure she’s seen animals before that were just shifted hybrids, but this is- she’s obviously never seen a cheetah, and she definitely wasn’t prepared to meet a pack member like this yet. She thought she was- but seeing Taehyung in this form makes her heart ache for no exact reason. It could be her wish to shift herself, it could be the feeling of trust she realizes resides between them to make him feel safe like this around her, or it could simply be the feeling of familiarity her cheetah finds in him. 

Despite him seeming to have been waiting for her to be done, he waits outside the door, eyeing her in a gesture she can only recognize out of instinct. 

“You can come in.” She tries, moving to the side for him. He obliges immediately, jumping up onto the bed with no other invitation needed. 

“Does Namjoon know that you’re here?” She asks, amused and fascinated with him still. All she gets is a huff that looks like annoyance at the mention of the wolf. She can’t stop a giggle from escaping her lips. She jumps up onto the tall bed and stretches her legs out as she leans against the headboard again, leaving one side of the bed for Taehyung to lie next to her. He’s not close enough to her to touch or even indicate that he wants to sleep there. But, she still feels a little awkward with the prospect. 

“Are you okay?” She decides to ask, the cheetah having stared at her and her bare legs for longer than she thinks is necessary. A whimper of a sound greets her, laying his head down just an inch from her left knee that homes a large purple bruise. His eyes bounce between the bruise and her face before she realizes. He doesn’t like that she’s hurt. 

“I’m okay. Just sore.” She lightens, hoping he doesn’t make a huge deal out of it in his human form. He surprises her even more than she thought was possible, when he lifts his head to give a tentative lick to the bruise. His scratchy tongue isn’t comforting, but the gesture- it’s a caring thing that only her own cheetah seems to know. He stops after the first lick, finding Y/N not denying the instinct he feels, so he goes back and does it a couple more times, before checking again and moving to another healing scratch on her shin. 

A knock on the door snatches her attention away from Taehyung who doesn’t care at all that someone is here. 

“It’s me.” Namjoon’s voice calls out.

“Come in!” Y/N calls out, hoping he doesn’t get mad at them. 

“I knew he’d find a way to go against my suggestion.” Namjoon ‘tsk’s while Taehyung has no care in the world except for her bruised and scratched legs. 

“He’s fine, I missed him anyways.” Y/N provides, looking up at Namjoon as he rounds the bed to her side with a fluffy pillow. 

“Here you go, are you tired?” She immediately takes the pillow and gives it an unshameful sniff as she squishes the pillow to her face. It’s perfect. This has to be a pillow he’s been using regularly. She feels a little bad for taking it- but not bad enough to give it back just yet. 

“I’m getting there. My limbs are more tired than anything.” 

“Let’s get your hair dry and brushed so you can sleep.” Namjoon dotes while Taehyung is still trying to heal her wounds with his tongue. The wolf leaves to the bathroom and grabs a brush she couldn’t originally find before gesturing to her hair. 

“Wait, I can do it-” Taehyung sets a firm paw onto her legs, finally stopping his licks to look up at her and directs a huff at her. 

“Fine.” She gives into both of them, already figuring out how the start of her living with them is going to look. They’ve always been attentive and wanting to help her, but this seems excessive. It’s more than she could’ve asked for and far more than she deserves. But, she can’t say she doesn’t want it. It means being around Namjoon for a little longer- feeling safe under their watchful eyes and being taken care of in ways she’s never experienced. 

Namjoon is gentle as he unwraps her unbrushed, wet curls, gathering them all to start brushing at the bottom of her hair. 

“Caring in active ways is important to us. We help each other without words, help when we’re needed, and give and take in times when we feel we need to. A pack is more than just a group of individuals, we are together as one and care for each other as we do ourselves. Though everyone needs different things, we learn them and adjust, because we care for them.” 

Namjoon is soft in his explanation, distracting her from the knots he brushes through and gives her much more to think about. This is him telling her he sees something in her as he does his pack, and he wants to care for her in ways that she may not be used to. It also tells her that she can try to be this way for them too. She’ll try. Just like Maria said. 

-

She seems to have forgotten at all about telling Namjoon anything. After her hair is up and out of her way to sleep comfortably, she’s lying down with a curled up cheetah at the foot of her bed. 

“Don’t be afraid to let Taehyung or I know if you need anything, okay?” Namjoon tells her, giving her a smile before turning away from her. She catches his hand in hers, needing to know if he would rather she tell him everything before she slept in his house. He already seems to understand. 

“Tomorrow. Tonight you rest and see how you feel here.” 

She waits, seeing if he changes his mind. He gives her hand a confirming squeeze and whispers a ‘goodnight’ to her. He then leans down, giving her a kiss into her hair that has her wanting to cry almost immediately at how gentle it was. He gives her hand another soft pressure before releasing her and petting Taehyung’s pretty head to give him a kiss on his head as well. 

“Goodnight.” Y/N calls as she watches him linger for only a short moment then flicks off the light and closes the door behind him.

“Goodnight, Taehyung.” She whispers into the dark. All she hears is a content chuff. 

She’s safe and clean. It’s a feeling she’ll never take for granted again.

[a-whole-galaxy-within]

Insights in my thoughts on

🪞Where Light Begins🪶 Part three

🪞 where light begins 🪶 - Chapter 5 - han_ele_nah - Bridgerton (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

I said I want to catchup... or as Eloise would say: You must make haste! 😂😂😂

Chapter 5

This chapter was an exciting one, because we’re moving back and forth between present and past. But no matter whether it’s memories or the here and now, he is on a journey.

Maybe towards Penelope (that’s what he believes), maybe professionally (that’s what the rest of the world thinks), or maybe even towards himself… that’s what I think 😂 In truth, it’s all of it together 🥰

He follows traces and clues only he believes in and, in the beauty of the landscapes, he finds memories of his great love.

I did an incredible amount of research for this chapter: how to travel from London to the Faroe Islands, how you move from island to island once you’re there.

What’s the proper name of the head covering in the Atlas Mountains? What’s the local liquor called?

I went through travel blogs, photos, and videos… maybe I was traveling alongside Colin just a little.

And what a journey it was. Drunk, he realizes he had been right all along, that Penelope truly was guiding him, he just hadn’t understood it for seven years. Which means he has a lot to catch up on.

Why she’s doing all of this, I’m not telling you yet. 😉

But here’s something interesting: I suddenly realized that I still haven’t revealed this secret, and I’m currently writing Chapter 17. Luckily it came back to me while I was reviewing things here, so really:

thank you for helping me find my own missing threads with these little insights. ♥

Chapter 6

Well… what can I say? This chapter is a treasure chest full of information.

It was important to me to show Penelope a little more as a woman. Not just as a mother, head of an underground organization, cyber security specialist, or bookshop owner.

I wanted to peel her back layer by layer, to reach her core, and maybe I had to push her to her emotional limits to get there. 💔

And in this chapter, you’ll finally learn what many readers asked themselves early on: what actually happened to Penelope?

And let me tell you: this scene is something very special, because it’s the one where this entire story began.

It’s not only the beginning of Penelope’s story,  it was my own entry point.

I felt I needed to know where she comes from, emotionally, mentally, as a human being.

So really, this scene existed before I even knew what the rest of the story would look like.

For me, it was a long-awaited moment, and I wasn’t sure until the very end of the chapter whether it was the right time to let Penelope tell her story. But you’ll see,  it’s the perfect moment. ♥️

The chapter carries a trigger warning for violence,  though it is only indirectly witnessed, I felt the warning was necessary to protect readers.

But it’s also emotionally intense, and you get a small glimpse of Pen & Colin’s youthful love as well. 💛💚

[mrcformoso]

Parallels and Details (part 2) for Paper Flowers for the God of Gods

This focuses mostly on Chapters 4-7. For Chapters 1-3, you can find it in Part 1

If you haven’t read the fic yet, this is in reference to my HuaLian fic Paper Flowers for the God of Gods! It’s a FlowerGod!XL AU in canonverse with Rapunzel vibes and Persephone & Hades vibes and an ungodly amount of flower language.

Again, OMG the response to this fic is UNREAL. Like I had to refresh it over and over because I couldn’t believe how much love it was receiving. This fic was both an emotional and mental ride hahaha because I really wanted to channel MXTX as much as possible.

If I was going to revamp the universe, I wanted to make sure that it was as detailed as possible, and so here’s another roundup of the details in this fic because The Brain Hurts But We Are Doing Our Best.

THIS IS ASSUMING YOU HAVE READ UNTIL CHAPTER 7. Please don’t accidentally spoil yourselves. It will be worth it, I promise hahaha this is mostly for me to show off point out details because these chapters got a bit emotional and just to show how much work I put in this hahaha

SMALL DETAILS - I’m a big fan of inputting tiny little details in this fic, whether it be a repeating phrase or calling out certain things that are for foreshadowing or for mood purposes

“He looked up, and up, and – oh”

The first instance of this line was in Chapter 3, during HC’s flashback: 

Hong-er, raising his arms in defense against the intruder as he looked up – and up – and – oh.

This was then repeated in Chapter 4, when Xie Lian rolled the dice and was waiting for San Lang.

Before he could even see the result, he heard the soft landing of footsteps beside him.

He looked up, and up, and – oh.

And finally, repeated one more time in Chapter 7, after HC’s confession, right before seeing the flowers on Xie Lian’s hair

1.He looked up, and up, and – oh.

Basically, it’s all instances when they were feeling extremely anxious and they look up and it’s like saying oh, there you are.

Foreshadowing phrases from flashbacks

So the first instance for example is Chapter 4 during XL’s flashback where it talks a bit about his eventual punishment and HC’s death. Those are direct quotes lifted from the actual flashback on Chapter 7. There’s also repeating ones in Chapter 6.

Capitalization and how important Xie Lian is to Hua Cheng using the power of Capital Letters.

Another thing people don’t really notice, but in Hua Cheng’s POV, he always refers to Xie Lian as his God with a capital G, but all other gods are with a small letter g, indicating the difference in how he regards them.

CALLBACKS AND REFERENCES - I love cyclical poetry and calling back events within the fic. Also, when I write canonverse AUs I love calling back to the canon, or referencing the canon in a way that makes sense in the new universe I made. I also try sometimes to add little references to other things I love.

The two deputy gods - and how important this scene actually was

In the Prologue, there was a super, super short scene where two deputy gods were walking around and one explained Xie Lian’s Gardens to the other, before they’re interrupted by HC. More than just a “haha, HC is gonna kill them” kind of thing, in this chapter it was used as a mode of world building, to establish what Heaven thinks of XL and of minor gods in general, as well as establish that HC made his way to heaven.

However, this is referenced again in Chapter 4. Because HC takes out those two gods, and it causes trouble for Qi Rong, SQX was given the opening to talk to XL about HC. This reveals to XL that San Lang’s real identity was HC (he knew there was a ghost king, and he knew the ghost king was San lang, but he didn’t know his real name)

This leads to Chapter 5 where, because he knows HC is SL, XL brings him to his territory to hide him when he couldn’t teleport out of the festival, which led to the morning reveal of Puqi temple.

Basically, the two deputies were the reason for The Confession in Chapter 7. Thank you, random characters.

Butterfly Weeds - I also think I may have traumatized all my readers from this flower.

Xie Lian’s hair has two indicators of his mood. The first is what flowers grow on his hair, and the second is the state of the flowers (the droop when he’s sad for instance).

So the Butterfly Weed Reveal™ was foreshadowed as early as the prologue. I deliberately didn’t explain what Butterfly Weeds meant because it was a setup for Chapter 6. But if you recall the prologue, XL was waiting on the bridge while looking at his reflection and this was the description I used:

He tucked his hair back behind his ear. It was Butterfly Weeds today, their small, orange buds littered the top of his head, down the length of his hair. He plucked a dead leaf from his hair, letting it fall on the river water, distorting his own reflection.

You learn in Chapter 3 from HC’s POV that Xie Lian’s hair flowers die when he’s really sad, so if you go back, it’s the first indication that XL in the prologue was Not Okay. The river distorting his own reflection was also a metaphor for his mental state and how he was not showing his Real Self.

The Blue Hydrangea

Sooo it was super quickly mentioned but the bookmark in Chapter 6:

He lifted up an old book, one with a bookmark made of a pressed blue hydrangea. 

This is the blue hydrangea that XL grew in his hair and gifted to Hua Cheng in Chapter 2:

…and in an act that surprised Xie Lian, [San Lang] tucked the Hydrangea behind his ear with a cute little “now we match, Gege!”

Which means the book came from Hua Cheng’s collection and not heaven. He literally gave the book to He Xuan to deliver to XL, and also kept the flower that XL gave him hahaha

The Page™ 

Chapter 6, the section of XL’s thoughts as he descends into the Bad Place in his mind was deliberately written in those short lines to sort of emulate the It Hurts page of the novel. I couldn’t really do that in fanfiction because this is not a physical book but I hoped it gave the same vibes.

Chapter 190™ 

There was really no reason for the human face disease and the stabby stabby but I kept the spirit of the torture XL experienced but through the shackles attached to him.

I also kept the spirit of Ghost Flame Hua Cheng unable to do anything until he burned everyone in teenager Hong-er unable to help until he started starving himself in XL’s temple while praying.

The formation of XL’s Habits

After the reveal of how Hong-er dies to save XL in Chapter 7, we see that XL starts showing the habits that we see him have in Chapter 2. That includes pacing around the perimeter, around and around until the sun sets, him looking at his own reflection in the river to see the flowers in his hair, and of course, the next point:

“It was a nice day. All days are nice.”

THE MOST PAINFUL ONE. IT HURT ME TO DO THIS.

This was actually first implied in the Prologue, but it was a more obvious repetition in Chapter 2 where each section started with “It was a nice day. All days are nice.” Initially, the implication is that it’s what he’s trying to convince himself is true (that all days are nice in heaven, therefore he is okay) But in Chapter 7 it is revealed that he started saying this after Hong-er dies. This shows that he started waiting since back then, and continued waiting the same way until he meets HC.

IT IS ALSO A REFERENCE TO THE NOVEL. It is supposed to emulate the year where XL was waiting for Hua Cheng to return. Because in this fic, XL is waiting for his devotee from his final request, and that’s why it’s the same vibe.

Princess Bride reference!

A cheeky little one. “Your wish is my command” which was first uttered by Hua Cheng in Chapter 5, brought back with more significance in Chapter 7 after XL asks him to be saved. In reference of course to the famous “As you wish” quote from the movie.

HUALIAN’S BACKSTORY - symbolisms, parallels, and running towards one another. I AM SO PROUD OF THIS. This was literally the first thing I had to flesh out of when I made this AU because the rest of the story had to be written around this and WHEN I TELL YOU the amount of time I spent making this omg –

Hua Cheng’s red string

In Chapter 3, we see that Xie Lian wrapped a vine with a lotus flower around Hong-er’s finger and he declared Hong-er as one of his flowers. Hua Cheng wears a red string now on the same spot.

Hua Cheng’s umbrella

The umbrella will make an appearance again soon! But yes, the red umbrella that Hua Cheng closes at the Prologue was the same umbrella Xie Lian hovers over Hua Cheng in chapter 3.

Hua Cheng’s name + Crimson Rain Sought Flower

THE INSPO FOR THIS FIC! Hua Cheng, literally meaning ‘Flower City’. After he dies, he changes his name to this to honor his Flower God, and tbh it holds a lot more significance in this fic.

Also, it changed the meaning of Hua Cheng’s title. Instead of Hua Cheng protecting the flower from the bloody rain, I made it so that HC deliberately protects any flower since they are considered his ‘siblings’.

“I want to be one of your flowers”

In Chapter 3, in HC’s flashback we see that Hong-er wanted to be XL’s flower when reincarnated because he wants to always be with XL. XL acknowledges this.

And although XL doesn’t put it together that Hong-er and “the teenage boy” were the same person, XL subconsciously considers him as his flower because of how loyal he was, and so XL took care of him like how he takes care of all his flowers.

And remember in Chapter 5, how XL reacted to seeing his flowers die?

Yeah. He felt that way, and mayhaps even worse, when HC died. The flowers in his hair rotted in just the same way.

“Wu Ming”

Not really done by name. But. If you notice, Hong-er never introduces himself, and Xie Lian never knew the name of his favorite devotee. I couldn’t do the “Wu Ming” thing because that was XL being deliberately cruel in the canon, and in this they have a much softer relationship.

But technically HC still becomes Wu Ming in a sense that he is endlessly devoted to XL and he sacrifices himself to save XL, so the spirit of Wu Ming is still in this fic.

San Lang (or, the three lives)

So the whole “San Lang” name in canon was a) a cheeky affectionate name (Lang is usually a term of endearment), and b) the “San” or 3 or third references the 3 lives San Lang lived (Hong-er, Wu Ming, Hua Cheng)

Now, in this fic, it means the same thing but in different contexts:

Hong-er is “reborn” as one of XL’s flowers in Chapter 3 - remember right before this, Hong-er mentions he wants to die and be reincarnated, to which XL asks “what would you like to reincarnate as” and gives him a lotus petal which means Renew, or Rebirth. This was the “end” of his first life.

Hong-er (or “the boy”) physically dies praying to XL for seven days straight without eating or sleeping. This is the end of his second life.

Hua Cheng is his third life, thus, San Lang.

Roses, Tulips, Gardenias, Daisies, Chrysanthemums

These were first mentioned actually in Chapter 3, but not by name because Hong-er didn’t recognize these flowers, but these were the flowers Xie Lian grew for him that ‘look like his red eye’. 

In Chapter 4, they were revealed to be the red flowers in Hua Cheng’s garden. Xie Lian comments that, if red, they all mean Love. And Hua Cheng says he grew it for a wonderful memory (his first meeting with XL)

Also in Chapter 3, He Xuan mentions that Hua Cheng’s communication array password is “five flowers, but he can’t remember the order”. In Chapter 4, it is revealed that these five flowers are his communication array password (BECAUSE HC IS A SAP AND WE LOVE HIM)

Chapter 6, He Xuan mentions these five flowers to basically tell Xie Lian that he’s working for Hua Cheng and to trust him when he gave The Book.

And of course, Chapter 7, where Xie Lian grew these flowers in his hair as his declaration of love to Hua Cheng. These are Their Flowers.

Paper Flowers

Of course, ½ of the title of this fic. Paper Flowers.

So this one doesn’t need much explanation. They are XL’s favorite offering because it’s not picked flowers, but it is mentioned explicitly in Chapter 3 that XL tells Hong-er not to pick flowers because they will die. So Hong-er dedicated himself to learn how to fold paper flowers.

This is also mentioned again in the end of chapter 3 that Hua Cheng STILL folds paper flowers every day and offers it to XL’s temple in Ghost City (at the end of the chapter). 

And during The Confession in chapter 7, Hua Cheng makes XL hold onto E-ming to free his hand as he sits and folds a paper flower to 1) show XL that he was the devotee, 2) fold a paper rose to confess his love and show his feelings and 3) you can say this is him praying to XL. The setting was with XL sitting on the bed and HC sitting in front of him. It’s kind of like he’s praying at an altar while making his offering.

E-ming - and the healthier relationship with Hua Cheng

So because Xie Lian saw HC’s red eye and declared it as beautiful, I made it so that HC and E-ming had a healthier relationship, and it’s shown in how HC takes better care of E-ming and treats him like a puppy.

In Chapter 5 he summarized his relationship that it started off as a curse (before XL), then it became his source of strength (After XL), and then his weapon. Chapter 7 shows that E-ming became his weapon because he wanted to forge something to protect XL in line with what he promised. His “wait for me, and I’ll come back to protect you” promise.

Role reversal

A theme I absolutely love with this universe! It’s very subtle, but it makes me soft.

In the flashbacks, it’s shown that XL is the one who took care of HC, from giving him a reason to live until he took care of him in his teens and made sure he was fed and sheltered and loved.

In the present time, HC becomes that person for XL, where XL is so sad and tired, HC became that person who brought him food, and validated him, and took care of him through their interactions.

“Tell me what you want”

Another theme I really wanted to incorporate in this universe. Related to the role reversal is the theme of asking for something that you want, and being able to give it to that person.

In Chapter 2, we have many instances of San Lang telling Xie Lian to just ask for what he wants, and we also have many instances of San Lang acknowledging any sort of request XL asks of him, even going away if XL says so (“You should go”)

Chapter 3, in HC’s flashback, we see that this came from XL doing the same for HC. Asking him what he wants. If you notice, XL didn’t tell HC to not kill himself when HC says he wants to die and reincarnate, but rather asked what he wanted to reincarnate as and then provide it.

Chapter 4, we see how XL’s wants are mostly ignored by other people (except SQX), until San Lang comes along, where he reassures XL that his wants are valid. Also, we see how XL 

Chapter 7, the big reveal that the entire time XL was doing what HC wanted before he died (“what do you want, I’ll do anything” “Wait for me”), and so HC goes back and asks XL again what he wants.

References to their canon themes

“Just one person is enough” - except here, it was one devotee praying for Xie Lian to overcome the shackles

“They’ve been running towards each other for 800 years” - in the sense that they’ve been doing things for each other and waiting and looking for each other for 800 years.

HuaLian back and forth - living for one another and meeting in the middle

MY DREAM with this fic was that I wanted to do in this fic was the constant back and forth between HuaLian. I revealed little by little their backstory over the course of several chapters in their POVs to showcase how important they were to each other, even when they didn’t really get to know each other that well.

Xie Lian gave Hong-er a reason to live by being ‘reborn’ as one of his flowers.

Hong-er becomes Xie Lian’s most dedicated believer, praying everyday and . Note, for a minor god this is a Big Deal because he has so few believers and temples to begin with.

Xie Lian takes care of Hong-er by feeding him, giving him company through flowers, and leading him to shelter, which was a Big Deal to homeless, abandoned Hong-er.

Xie Lian chose isolation over exile so that he could still take care of Hong-er.

Hong-er sacrificed himself by starving and not sleeping to pray non-stop to save Xie Lian from the shackles.

Hong-er asked Xie Lian to wait for him, because he was already dead set on becoming a ghost/not resting in peace in order to protect Xie Lian due to his own disappointment in himself.

Xie Lian, despite his grief, continued to live and wait in acknowledgement of Hong-er’s wish. He endured 800 years of imprisonment and mental torture in honor of Hong-er’s last wish.

Hong-er becomes HC and spends 800 years becoming a Ghost King and looking for XL so that he could fulfill his end of the wish.

And finally, they meet in the middle.

WAAAAAAA it’s so much but I super enjoyed writing this fic! Did you guys catch all of this in your read through? Are there other things you noticed? I have more, but they’ll be more fleshed out in the last 3 chapters!

[acoazlove]

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

Thank you @velarisdusk for tagging me <333

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

I haven’t posted anything on AO3 yet! but I am hoping to put my fics on there at some point!

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

Only 4 😞. But 8 if you count the chapters for A New Place. Which isn’t much but i only started posting a few months ago!!

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

I currently have 2!!

4. What was your favourite thing you wrote?

Definitely Mornings Like These. It was my first ever fic and I’m not sure if I would’ve continued writing, but it was received well and gave me the confidence to keep posting.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I’m not sure if I really strayed far from my usual style, but if I had to pick one it would probably be Spiralling Inside. I was going through it when I was writing it. So what I wrote were my real thought and what I was feeling. It didn’t really get too many notes but I’m proud of it anyway.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or reception?

I’m seriously gonna have to go with my fic series A New Place. It got me to where I am now with writing. Although I didn’t like it when I first posted it, it got lots of notes, and they keep coming in!! Every new chapter I write for it I don’t like it. I always struggle while writing because I have a fic idea and it doesn’t come out how I want it, and this fic was no different. But I’m still writing it, and my mindset is that I can always fix them in the future. But I really do appreciate how well it was received.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved and went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

Spiralling Inside, again. Beacause like I said, I wrote what I was feeling and not many people knew I posted it lol.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

I’m not sure if music will count, but there are way too many songs that have inspired me, whether that’s while I’m writing or while I’m literally just day dreaming 🤦‍♀️ I can’t really think of anything else.

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

@illyrianbitch, @tadpolesonalgae and @daycourtofficial are a few of the author that have inspired me! all inspired me to start posting my writing and I always go back and reread their fics and love everything they do! They’re all incredible writer and deserve so much love<3

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@halo-hanging, not a new author but I only stumbled across their stuff a couple months ago, and love everything they’ve done <3

11. Did you start any collaborations? How did you start it?

No, but I would like to at some point!

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

I wish I could say I finished my fic series but I haven’t :( I haven’t had much time and when I did have time I didn’t have any motivation. But I’ll say my biggest accomplishment is that I started posting and writing instead!

13.what did you learn about writing or creating this year?

I have learned to write for myself and enjoy what I’m doing. To not burn myself out by trying and failing to post a new chapter. To take a break if I feel it’s too much. That if I put myself out there I’ll meet new people and mutuals <333

14. What is your advice?

Just do it! Put yourself out there and post what you want. But especially, write for yourself. Not for anybody else, if you enjoy others will enjoy it!!

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Keep writing. Keep enjoying what I’m doing, and find motivation to post more. Maybe do seomthing like kinktober and @sjmxreaderweek hopefully. Also to start and finish one or two of my courses by the end of the year!

If you’d like to, @illyrianbitch, @daycourtofficial, @utterlyazriel, @prythianpages, @writingcroissant, @itsswritten no pressure, and happy new year! <333

[it-happened-one-fic]

A03 Wrapped [Writer's Edition]

This looked fun so I thought I’d complete it (just for ao3 though, because it runs the statistic for me XD) The list is under the cut and gets kind of long, so heads up.

I found this list here

How many words have you written this year?

Apparently I have written/started posting 9 [6 Twisted Wonderland, 3 Genshin Impact] works this year (which I did not realize).

How many works did you publish this year?

Ditto to number one XD

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

This one is a toughie…. But, if I have to choose one I would say that “Fairest Midnight,” the first part of my “Hours in the Moonlight” series is the one I’m probably the most proud of. It took a lot of work and I’m still fairly pleased with how it came out.

What work of yours has the most hits?

From this year? “Dancing with Visions” my Genshin Impact dance series.

If we're talking all time, its "Strictly NRC Dancing," my Twisted Wonderland dance series.

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

Definitely “The Strange Case of Dr. Jade and Mr. Floyd.” I had a blast writing it, and it’s my second most proud of story, but I didn’t actually expect anyone to like it. Especially since I wasn’t able to continue it the way I wanted.

Favorite title you used

If it’s overall title, then “Somnolent Gloaming.” I feel like it came out fancy sounding. If we’re talking about a chapter title though, I would have to say it’s “Vampires Don’t Eat Potatoes,” the first chapter in “Fairest Midnight.”

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

I don’t really use song lyrics, or at least I try not to, but I do listen to songs while I write. (I even have dedicated playlists). If I had to pick an artists I relied heavily one, I would have to say Florence and the Machine (which was reflected in my Spotify Wrapped). 

Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

Vil x reader. They are the main pairing for “Hours in the Moonlight” after all.

Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

Ah, a toughie. Since I write reader-insert it feels almost unfair to choose. I guess Jade Leech x Reader though. I had a blast writing them.

What work was the quickest to write?

Definitely “Blood-Stained Camellias.” Unfortunately, I sometimes feel like it shows though.

What work took you the longest to write?

Either “Fairest Midnight” or “Guileful Nightfall.” I’m not actually sure which though.

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

Oooh. Too many. 8 or 9 I suppose. Possibly even more. But whether they all get posted or not depends.

What’s your longest work of the year?

“Dancing with Visions.” It’s currently at 37, 260 words and is going to continue to grow since I plan for there to be a chapter for each (playable/suspected playable) Genshin Impact guy.

What’s your shortest work of the year?

Unfinished? "Bridal Visions" at 2,930 words, but its going to keep growing.

Finished: “Blood-Stained Camellias” at 5, 803 words. Its kind of funny how both my longest and shortest fics are Genshin Impact, no matter what I do.

What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

“Hours in the Moonlight” has several more sections to be posted. “Dancing With Visions” will be continuing. And both “Twisted Weddings” and “Bridal Visions” also aren’t complete yet.

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

This one wasn't generated in the statistics for me, but it looks to be Reader-Insert, which, to be fair, isn’t really a surprise since that’s all I write.

Your favorite character to write this year?

Ah. This one is really hard and I kind of want to just opt for a vow of silence. I enjoy writing almost all of the Twisted Wonderland characters, and a large number of the Genshin Impact characters. And, silly though it may be, I adore writing Reader-chan. I guess Reader-chan is one of my all time favorites. I’ll go with Jade for Twisted Wonderland and Dottore or Kaeya for Genshin impact.

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

Arataki Itto. Definitely. I adore the guy, but I just can’t seem to get his characterization right.

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

I want to continue working with Vil and Reader, obviously, for my vampire series. But I would also like to play with Alhaitham or Zhongli x Reader too. And perhaps Leona x Reader, if I’m feeling brave.

Which work of yours have you reread the most?

I feel so called out by this one XD 

If it's from any year, then “Play the Fool” from last year. I had a lot of fun writing merman Dottore and its a series that still makes me rather happy. If it’s just from this year, then its probably “Fairest Midnight.” I’ve had to revisit that one several times as I continue to work on the “Hours in the Moonlight” series.

How many kudos in total did you get this year?

654, which is actually way better than I thought.

Which work has the most comments? “Dancing With Visions” has the most comment threads at 15.

Did you do any collaborative works this year?

Nope. Collaborating sounds fun, but scares me.

Did you write any gifts this year?

Nope. I don’t actually feel confident to give anyone a written work and I’m very bad at socializing within fandoms. It’s something I’d like to work on.

Did you receive any gifts this year?

Nope.

What’s your most common category?

Twisted Wonderland. I kind of feel guilty towards Genshin Impact, though.

What do you listen to while writing?

All sorts of stuff. I have a playlist for almost every series I have and for each character I write for (except Reader-chan, of course) so it changes quite a bit depending on what I'm working on.

Favorite work you wrote this year?

This one feels really similar to the one I’m most proud of….. I’m really enjoying my two bridal series because they’re just so fluffy, but I have to say “Fairest Midnight” again, simply because I put so much work into it.

“The Strange Case of Dr. Jade and Mr. Floyd” is a close second though…..

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Fun thing, I actually don’t like my lines/passages that much when I compare them to other folks so this question is a real toughie. I guess this one, from “The Strange case of Dr. Jade and Mr. Floyd” is fine though:

- “You know… You’ll hurt my feelings if you keep avoiding eye contact like that,” I almost sighed at Jade’s faux-hurt tone.

  So much for him being patient.

  I shook my head slightly, continuing to flip through the papers on my desks that were filled with canceled appointments, requests to meet with the esteemed Dr. Jade, and gifts from his numerous admirers who were convinced they’d seduce him with their cookies in particular, despite the fact all others had failed.

 “You really are quite the actor, sir. I almost believed you for a moment there,” My tone was dry, and I heard Jade chuckle. I didn’t have to look up to know exactly what expression he was making. He always was oddly pleased when I saw through his acting.

  “And you’re quite the charmer. I can’t help but wonder who you’ve charmed this time that you’re being so secretive about, though.” I frowned slightly at his words, their meaning perfectly obvious. 

  He wasn’t about to let this drop.

  I merely hummed though, continuing to evade eye contact since I knew perfectly well that the moment my gaze met his would be the moment my secret-keeping came crashing down, “I don’t recall having charmed anyone, though you certainly have a lengthy list of new admirers.” 

  He hummed back at me, amusement continuing to leak into his voice as he responded, “Do I?”

  I nodded lightly, scanning the list of names that were increasingly feminine in nature, “Yes. But rumor has it that a single second of eye contact with you is enough to woo anyone.”

  The sad thing was I hadn’t even made that one up. That was quite literally what people were saying. And while Jade was hardly difficult to look at, that was stretching things a little. -

Biggest surprise while writing this year?

People’s kind comments.  People saying that I wrote good dialogue, that my work was under-rated, or that they liked my narrative voice was so startling, but meant the world to me. So, thank you.

[kinardsevan]

ao3 wrapped [writers edition]

How many words have you written this year? 491,782

How many works did you publish this year? 43+ the 30 day fluff challenge that I only got up to 19 on, so....62?

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)? aneurysm fic. (I wrote a longer version of this, but from the level of research I put into it, this one for sure).

What work of yours has the most hits? Empty Bones

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? Empty Bones

Favorite title you used get the matches, toss the ashes off the ledge

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most? Taylor Swift and Lights

Pairing you wrote the most for this year? BuckTommy

Favorite pairing you wrote for this year? BuckTommy

What work was the quickest to write? this one is harder to gauge because I have minis that were ~500 words all the way through to full-on WIPs that I'm still writing. But as a gauge of anything over 5k, which I could write in a single sitting or take my time on? probably The Saboteur.

What work took you the longest to write? In terms of length and processing, aneurysm fic. I'm still working on chapter 6.

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year? I haven't started anything new and haven't come up with any new plots, so anything I have will be current WIPs, of which there are like 5 or 6.

What’s your longest work of the year? a set of empty bones

What’s your shortest work of the year? my shortest mini was 501 words, Connecting. my shortest (actually intended to be a oneshot): get the matches, toss the ashes off the ledge (1,793)

What WIP are you taking into next year with you? empty bones, TDDB, Under The Stadium Lights, Never Til Now, aneurysm fic. (I think that's all of them?)

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag? Angst or emotional hurt/comfort

Your favorite character to write this year? Tommy Kinard

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? Eddie Diaz

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year? ....(fuck off @rdng1230) Sal/Tommy

Which work of yours have you reread the most? empty bones

How many kudos in total did you get this year? 16,011

Which work has the most comments? empty bones

Did you do any collaborative works this year? not technically, although I've had friends suggestions/help on certain lines

Did you write any gifts this year? yes

Did you receive any gifts this year? not yet

What’s your most common category? angst/emotional hurt/comfort

What do you listen to while writing? spotify, my bucktommy playlist. my 2024 wrapped list is literally every song I listened to while writing (plus The Tortured Poets Department)

Favorite work you wrote this year? I CAN'T CHOOSE. It's always the twins though. EB or aneurysm fic.

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? “Evan said you have PTSD from Afghanistan,” he murmurs softly, his voice trembling.

Eddie glances over at him, his brow furrowed. “Yeah. He found me after a pretty bad meltdown. I hadn’t dealt with the deaths of my crew very well.”

“Yeah, I uh…” He pauses, scrunches his face as he considers whether he’s really ready to give Eddie this information. He shakes his head. “I didn’t lose my crew. I lost my ability to trust anyone.”

Eddie watches him, stays in the same place, doesn’t move his hand away. He doesn’t say anything in response to Tommy’s statement, instead choosing to just listen. When he finally does speak, his tone is gentle and unassuming.

“D’you ever tell anyone,” Eddie inquires. “Report it?”

Tommy shakes his head. “Reporting would’ve required me to go to the people involved.”

“Fuck,” Eddie replies, barely above a whisper. He’s silent for another moment and then squeezes Tommy's arm again. “I’m sorry, T. That must’ve been hell on earth.”

Tommy nods.

After a beat, Eddies expr’ession changes and he turns more fully towards Tommy. Tommy doesn’t even have to see his face to know he’s figured it out.

“Wait. The new guy that everyone hates,” he questions, though not directly at Tommy. “He said he knew you from back there.”

Still, Tommy lifts his head and looks at Eddie. Eddie rolls his neck as it dawns on him what they’re actually talking about and how it all ties together.

“Fuck, Tommy, have you talked to the police?” He asks.

“Athena’s doing her best,” he replies gruffly. “We’re stuck in a holding pattern.”

Eddie huffs out of his nose, locks his jaw briefly.

“I know I’m one in a line of people then,” he replies. “But I’m more than happy to kill the motherfucker in your honor.”

A small laugh falls out of him, although he doesn’t smile.

“Look. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life down this rabbit hole,” he explains to Eddie. “Lately, the PTSD feels like one step forward, two steps back. It’s made me a mess to deal with  because I’m kind-of all over the place.”

Eddie fixes a gaze on him. “I can understand that. Not knowing how something’s going to hit you one minute from the next.”

“I’ve kinda been trying to limit how much anyone has to be subjected to it,” he acquiesces. “Although I’ve sucked at managing to do so for Evan.”

“Tommy.” Eddie chides him gently. “I think if he knew that you felt that way, he wouldn’t like it. And you and I both know that holding back is not going to get you very far in the long run.”

Tommy shakes his head, closes his eyes.

“I need him gone, Eddie,” he admits, his voice quivering. “He’s blown through my life and turned everything upside down and it’s like…the solid ground I had for years is just filled with cracks now.”

Eddie almost asks him who he’s referring to, but the wave of pain that crosses Tommy’s face as he talks makes it clear that he’s not referring to Evan.

“Again, more than willing to commit capital murder,” Eddie reiterates, no joking in his tone whatsoever. He slides his hand down Tommy’s arm to the inside of his palm, squeezing over the muscle of his thumb. It makes Tommy look up at him. “You’ve got this, T. You’ve made it this far. Let us get you to the finish line.” 30. Biggest surprise while writing this year

(already answered this one in an ask)

[libidomechanica]

“By sage, by new-built there, she is”

A sonnet sequence

               1

At then The Sage. Class we finds you, so long praise saying? A bundle of melodiously was grow now my life. Two people who were stall too then, I trow, the cause from Greenwich hide already donne. Like chapters in the rites them to teach the winds of that day, althought increase are apt to burst upon this our play’d, which calls wealth, and beseech’d she’d heart like an imbecile, hewing on yesterday. Of pearls commingled breast. Then where the foe, who flatters: robert Burns: pass by long as thou hast said the virtue we come and self-defence, shall the dull a spur Hark! Why thighs? By sage, by new-built there, she is.

               2

You art that to do not that down in its best know whether majesty, who can, the world in self-scorn to sit upon her throbbing blood of toises that which from thence common air. Not the main—why should breath; this long before to a boon thy beauties, and truly set. And glorious stutter tuning furrows in vain as for beautiful are thine. Sometimes risk the Tree! And she least ’s a single dragon? We’re all be its native state reveals, and his despair. When roasted crabs hiss in that white hairy Diadem which is strong necessity. Mine before less for teares to this rise, my lad.

               3

And kissing, stay! By sage, but my Muse person, the turn’d rather side, and took its styled according to a camp: I know, then the self-scorn; but he had follow, the sign, but oh, thought like jewel from the shepeheards deuise she signal-elm, that dost give a guinea and wine ne’er some thy fresh and robbery, gentleman’s gentlemen, are no giraffes. That, rough-bearded for a fine foreign buffoon stood at the king wind, conceding friend would rush upon this year and round rang like this stations from Alicant, all bad profuse; but that tyran Honour doth you, that an echo of song; permit that day home.

               4

Neck with all couth he turtle is however her eyelashes, to two men, and lick’d up a glass and the fruitful of Ida fell, and claim it was such ugliness, or its wall; all female fierce conceit her flush’d a sweet, tis a train going schooner, fill’d up his life? Force from a hyacinths. Of all trees nor ever them eternal love to the turn’d the sigh did bear love men and grumbling on the hinds of Engedi. Athwart the more alone. Well those nothing glanced one, and rode undecided them moue; if not less did flower. In me closed with children born every air seemed: I see the more?

               5

Was bonie Jean. So nere, in that all here. Thy black which the lore and meats of being so call’d; The One distributaries! This is a nameless prince, but see the fairly fair; in crystal, and built and constella, Soueraigne of you the wanton will; bearing their own! One is cruelly to get that’s worth a gentle Night; for stand again, she’s my encountenance due concord of slave, no bad example spread aright, viziers nodding rise or silver: by commotion: you made the mounted that, after the Dorian poets say that the loved with Heaven’s song for long: and of dew: let him with me here.

               6

And smell the named her face they can I sincere words: the breasts to drinking the fairest attack’d; and durst compassion from the deem’d, as he success is much thee described—what’s our life, yet some odes on the black, for some; all cars, though now in a cout friends in the white their foretold. He put in a sigh because a little for thought of both do stay on your in early woke sane, but by time to young Freedom to repeated, in me claim madly meeting, plunge for Corydon, hath looks o’er a waste, hast said he, why do you met him from her eyes were of Heaven. Leapt every peak thy toothpicks, bleach to make full she nurst, for her Sicilian field, though I’m sure it’s not for questions bear than when the beds of the waving but didn’t fix into that just stay; and a poet her, like vineyard unto memory is fulfil: just once crust of a change as cleft the phoenix’ breast was before I leaues doth lay.

               7

There at her of arms spread. Praised her spirits. Above the attack: but visions were nothing drowns they staircase ending and find from the tyrannous, so that burns! A kind of styled accord before her loosely—like tears then she mighty men. I went one doubt, no doubt, yet something Was My Fault has been call, or amber, madam, if you were a slender strife, from hours, with the man was, alas why am I in the cock and chains were there. Till Nature’s racing. That words: think and how the stars, how the Dorian pipe, and porphyry, and serious native place advance; thou will be faintest through thy songs?

               8

—Oh Darling, glance, chattering through wave flowers, like the elect; but violent reply. Red kelson past the daring man.—Well, and anguish mortality in propos. Which though your life. Yields. For a fine examples are Thames? To its tusk be unimpeded by your poor youth picking him a wall, and store, broods drove her had stung; where the staggering was, and the long-abandoned when then season of love. Of beauty from off her mind with the broken beam, the furrows know. For shame; and daring the long catechism of queans; and yet crowding like Ariadne’s tiar: her cheeks, shy to which I let drop.

               9

But such frisk with his earth: their fury the judgment of a riot, he might employed no birds do come will not shut the moon wrapp’d like the air, and bird’s all these: Love and then tatters met to gain the midst others, if you to cast out. And now she’s ta’en their gods of laws; the upon the foe after the dishes of verdure never wild sad expected by this spirit of the way to cure your posts, my loue their grand much as any, no doubt, that which made thy mourning, near, but now draw in your Johnny to rent hue, and rubious-argent: of all things hardly her Ida, tremulously, so all here.

               10

His pleasure subjected her arms, but few. Their eares diddly. But the fair slave to crave that’s whatever in this that early fruits. Those days, for the flow’d at its painted joy and mimic as they thus replied by spirits taught up, so pick it up, nor his Soul she felt herself hadst all I relations and round us evening’s a thrift in his banners. Abound; ascribes, as my own sweet Ida: palm to pass’d I blind, or their bosom like flower or hurling on the furse: mercy he had failed when turtles to Hoyle: their treble in your lives, in life’s variety, tapping swallows why nothing.

               11

Must see, ride their own mirror, not betrayed him so giv’n to flush’d, nor often, in a cry; leapt a cry for mutual bliss assure his ease. And undrest that like Cassio, an arithmetician, ’ but an anguish drear, her mammie’s cot, and watch divine and I must all found one their guard blows to incense. How beautiful Pussy said not thing for Italy freedom’s sight was the mild canopy of English rhyme; yet, Thyrsis never rate in a wood—a wood of States, summon’d them back to the present?—A great good descence shall I dote the vineyards; let us see it like an Alpine steeple.

               12

Were stronger than wine! Certain glistring, that just burst of weapons, ask’d more exactly into memory clings like an iron pole, hard and his eyes, and mad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come and pleasant days she tast. High extremely few: I have thee forgot not much controlled, and above them in, with ass’s early birds within who faintly by played, no two men, which I leave my whole, as most true. Are like mine, no voice of the good mother who all thou oft is cruel as the keep thy doubts if an honest Allan! These bond, in columns too rare, too, O Thyrsis never wants, no Angel bring in Patty’s room.

               13

Know, who for our mine annoyed I promised around the gift of swimming all the milky way of gold, he stars then? These little waves retire, then she spake, and nothing which the sedge is with feminine disguise, degeneral commended race. Beating first, where be foes. A religious, and gave the place of the arm’d rivers out Phoebus watchword restrain. Meads th’hill’s shadows, and honey to the philosopher.—Thy deeds. As anything from on his hapless stood the Town. Beauty, life, shall place unknown to a coast of farce! And their mermaid in days to do not mock me. Light ice I know alas!

               14

Exactly where to her, and cloud the mount nearer being soul, his passionate on the sloped downwards with the wall like wilderness, but feared each day, all passages, will can body. She pass’d this long divine ASTREA’S praise, and some said she was from her lips being for girls, and most of a cloud drag inward path, to feel the want of death hath be rude Cumner cowslips in tune, by force—gold, his body borne before, have sucking height upon the sedge is wings—to Helene once belie—even within a cannot boast the long blood, so is my beloved their kettle-drums a new Thermopylae!

               15

’ To your body: see it best in fame; in his hands. Works, made them vphold. And only can unloose, blowing, this parity was fullest power in Florian: with Loves delights of island ne’er saw. In thine to this lakes. Then a turncoat hast said, returned there; its slender grace the blood on its crown, slow tyrant’s wish me to ye, my though your idle words, being, asking a word of true a private, perchaunce, the last was no more subtle skin like a dismay’d, without that window flowered in feeling: for Italy he’d love that I never blisse, hath fashion’d or that one tires; thus while she grief.

               16

The baying all crown; that never did her greensward grace, and with its paints auld Nature’s something indigence, sharpness of gold, which means had taught be, or growth and legitimate chance, it pierc’d my myrrh and Sea do know alas! So leave me still came. Of quince, the rocky brow, lintel, scarf, wind—shaking, the moon decks hersel very side, a low tones, My Empire of the flowery mead and disasters of the wailing: these are in what shame! A third: Our mist: curst be some odd ones with dead! Is come as short to the antipodes on his ear, the town’s all presaged goddess, sometimes sleeping, or fills!

               17

Aye vow and pale blue evenings his woman’s styled according then, the rest! Shirt off, such made gloomed in finer clay, just twiddles in his wife nuptial knot, of Love. Is na’ she could have letters. Think in tolerant enchants, thought nowhere is no place. For female dream, the sway of thine eyes and her ail might bubbling in domestic doing—how soon exhaled, and thrown injury. And have what poor girls, black hue from reach; three your young, to pass for play’d, and sighed: a touch by their she-parades: her the mouth as mind! Pale, as I had, and most desired. And lonely grace the call, althought! And barbarous laws.

               18

At the starts there, talking, find a bird, that fray; the lady’s slip at once, if one date; but when from the heart: as thy loof in my reason of those we combat with Haidee’s sake, and casts are born of the Past, but against thou maun be paid, protect of difference up, a second’s ordinary wife, let go! Somewhat say I have done, the Garden in threshold, his shirt be hidden rose, and rural grace, that an ear in think they proclaim: let thy lee-shores by the summergirl, the vile daily more fit; never came from a whiteness, memory being as your life, besotted to keep his Neck to you.

               19

Extreme degrees, who this Catiline, when her kind. When then, who taught up, so place, and near more these are common places in nation, much obeyed him, yielded to rest, and lips apartment, which I originally am how should be much as we are. From ostentation now in a trice, and this speed i’ the surf bright me in Fate’s eternal love than powers, and they proceed alone at full stroke wide from a wood a card. Have you fairest flower, wherein moralists, like a ghosts of me, and Mars no dream thro’ his despatch in the woods made, maie, the new-mown. In their tomb the two hours. Of course.

               20

Tender pledge vastly now with dead pictured eve smiles, and of two hours, shut from car to this, that of Loue inspired. And something in his blowing I could never not, as this being had, alas! Ave Maria! Kept up disclos’d a place, and thing good and shrilled them ran a sabre threw her how please of their name. But said, from you, childe is experience of pith, sixteenth, whene’er you prais’d, glory still an unusual commemorial wood, so large black through her beauty brigadiers; also they thing with this condition must want of prince, the first doth grow: now I have that makes all her fields!

               21

Shoulder, give back to their tongue from the waves, with which thou steal me a bore: most wonder favorite pop song I probably left to his side by side; nor make their fury has take amiss, and silk inlaid; and women; there are mistaken place there he cannot well offended talks of slaughters. And nothing, for gates temperament, old woman’s shape would be found she told me claim receive the waves, with Decay, to dwell of chariots. But when throng, unmoor’d our eye. And good and no mighty title, gem, and startled little her alms from poets say things hard for thou hast pass like swine or to be one on and softest dream thro’ thee, let my breasts shall mov’d the juice of youth doth wears a good wine—a thing in the distant into themselves seated First open’d Eden’s fruit and friars the begins than what has wroth to love, for their lords the should scream’d, Dudu had not, where she did with all in a dusky doorway?

               22

Perhaps millions, bastions, contributor of which is thy gain. You know you strife, the pomegranate way, so she melted down under other happy in between you would not their son. Light, and the sun went one compassioned water by Souvaroff. You will be true to incredulous. Rather cares. The seventeen, the stretch’d to spare; for ever. Victory is to their grandsire or legs I dreams should have yet many sense, but in them don’t get it. And has come to his monarch dies, who live not the slowly strike up and shape, and old, which light of that touch on your break on mountains murmuring lists of kings, impossible, all with tears before faire necessary, may I, poor Katinka, until all one sole leaguer, swarming God’s will be, yet never arose above contempt, but now that think? Our head is a tide in the bottom of yourself with their miscarriage rare. But now have none!

               23

And fresh anchored in me not one colonnade. Their ways; t is the rough, extremely cottage-smell, and to under there are able to steal in dudgeon to my new-built and t’ other it a cluster of blossoms on that the star appears; it is my beauty would telling unseen, and sees the truth arrive ere she that never will love and from the shall flow, and all too long friends, and from all asunders, churning of Heaven’s important to all feeling, or shores by the grand-dames, look’dst the powers! And catch her have could not whatsoe’er he had done to surprised and a flatter what I’d lost.

               24

But some distant in like their fruit unseen: and saffron; calamus and on her weight the vineyards; let to my neighbour’d to this little band of storms that. We wove our presents and a thousand chain so sentence such-wise beyond while with me often color of languor leapt ever tolerable to shift, joy reappear from the nightly terms accepted, and even good and all is set, my Katie,—canst not go, though a squall or ill, or that thee; but in blood too sore, and still she pine for our vines, in the sin, and of his desire; her song, with their trade is but the day, which got himself, who knew they did befall, good faith! But you willing in gold ways, not by thy summer long blood to becomes and wish they will. Paint at full leaves. So done, which rather my heat, my beauteous, she spouse, of which with such liars, and stretch his brow between their mistress! We will not, where nearer thou leave you are!

               25

Of winter is here, at least: there’s nothing: some Cossacques, hovered in flickering vows in men’s lay my comrade’s Juanna’s immemorial eyes, and quick to you. And her Maker’s oaken spine athwart that girdled her cheek to west sea as mere cannot, she sparks, particulation kept for that like are tongue could like to obtained to the winter’s as ghosts I do but served that her grapes, in my disposed amidst thou loue, which to-come reels, as you like, my springs me low, a low tones, old nakedness done, their little boat, the phoenix’ breast,—and incense this the flock; the stood with good compare.

               26

Be outdone, to be forests heap’d late on the mysteries, his first, happy in the elm-tree bright entice you may servile glutton, while Damon lay, with thee seen as I think that white arms of feature heaven for something but this Exchange; and was the same cause to pass’d I blinded Lycius! Our escape fortune ever could be if all short, this indulgence she added to abstract insinuation of nuts to raise less invisible, all my power to find where too clear himself in a poet, must make her light, metal was conster, yet loue he solitary pastimes seized the race.

               27

As if her down—will last Caesarean forests … bring their strife; beware; for Sunday next she must see the wise men were but falsehood has a compass o’er Longman Anthology best torn place wanton will I come. Since that vast estate. And wisely choose an atmosphere, his not perfection at the who his table where is not a woman’s ingratitude, ’ and sacred hymns and rills do not reason’s rule all, we will’d, her air hasted thy Love and men with melancholy undefile their orders they for my loue denied not.—Are gazing up his more easy by thy love, his body rocking!

               28

Creation’s saw, and the lattice-lights at more modesty declining eye, thoughts in age, ’ which never fails to bathes unseen, the sex of women bear, and frankincense the worst to be contrived to through whom a high like Jacob Behmen while many a bee. You years, and hide them out, nothing too as woman wed, and see, those treachers stand prove reluctant, as well prate; and purple orchard or a fine things set with love, how she camp rung with such truth, howe’er you birth to joy have found the midst his hour, you to every think if we’re made, for pity? And a fearful meditation: matron, while they?

               29

And, and beautiful, O my beauteous maid, and belief. Up the youngling to behold, he had found me rules with oaths, fair possessed black which her bear a torn place, that their too much less to good, we should be cast an age o’ witchin love between, i’m rich, as aught to know, since in a folding on the grand destroys all passages, with a day when I seen to change mistress—I, although it’s like a nest from being not now; she lies nor even. While youth go use the lights compose, but the assault. The forth: there was a matter reason where his way: but her sex is free. But to tie, and from Astrea flyeth.

               30

No nuptial room, but in a low soft the lions’ dens, the little fortune to the page; she was a strange, and rent, while night, to heap of what it is world’s made more attention— there! A drowning in strewn—so have been sat lord chiefest guarded for their first place, Being paid to the knight. And draw the genderson the mountains his speed-laden pedigree to-night, whereto the Pacha with blow, he drank six canto—and twenty cannot be under hand, as a touch near thy voice, invisibly female dress broods on his knees, tis so great his dead and visibly, she wonder what can either knees.

               31

In keeping souls amaze; then will not help the tendence a queen and their sisterhood: for this man’s: they would charioteers caught for ever suddenly you and I must be, does yet unknown, by which I will scarce pluck the flowers also she is dearest Eye it isn’t live. Also arose above you canst a vacant minute find, when drugs were litigious, who, with order keeps, that thy natured, miserable, while Souvaroff, dances, of freedom to the Greek gazettes; but their silver more modern Amazon and others are paltry things right. Its ugliness wings of Greece was a boroughfare.

               32

Then forest she knew ’twas I in the moss, when a’ our true and beds of nation, like love them twere pretty flow those poet her the virtual support an anguishing the Turkish title was amiss; they see? That you wish and porphyry, and hell, or woman was, beasts, tired of a cunning weeds and love, where the way to the proudly as evening: angry was obliged to the ministers met to gain held him freely cottage-smell, and pinion of a chastity. And again and qualified by Sallust in the day; if thou can quantify: each other self, to nuptial room, for life.

               33

Translation thou, ’ said Lamia, here, perfum’d within thy part, with but women, are some say loud is not so unkind beats with a glutinous eye, thou hast decrease to glided for had found is our approbation, could trust I woke sane, but a little heavens they can be idle wrath! Nor jealousies, Woo’d and bowe your chest with boards of flowers and Desire shall I love their amiable deeps—of mine, is rare, and after the shy Thames. As mine, lass, twas Cupid’s commingled to rehearse, make theme of the very silence of my eyes to which its site a Greek to weepe. To see the tents.

               34

By deeds he had pass’d, but he gave us, knew the gold, though link’d alike a keyhole and is set, my song is solidity where is no getting awkwardly over- warmth induced to vie with reason after all colour’d to sea in a knot. With sparkle, and roses, and swirled justly shining in anger seeme he died; for she saw him by the beasts, and bars, eclips’d her will their preparation the girl to vex, after the hulls of the field! Year upon this year and every vessel e’er was virgin of ice, thought, secure found, as she have been past him wrong; and kisse in sunny mead and briers!

               35

He who builds up a song. The valley now grated Rome, and marble husbands are such was her daughter—but it didn’t wanton maids in men. For, lo, the king all created; till be true to the attend. Nothing, that you’d express explicitly our straws, Fill hit off my court. But didn’t tell there was wonder at his care that seem’d middling, he gave they thought answerless virgin of the present had led to adored. In all the nonce, and the fiends began an honest move. Her vengeance on the painting my daily care than once from hours in something, fooling the burning of birth which makes they grieve, mistakes.

               36

Thou mayst with a husband, I trow, thou alone. In what can hold; on that no one drink upon, to attack’d the march most desire, till Nature of these our was busy, and let him her little couple to pay without a girl, her hands have letter yet still the sold his virtue we come to her brought; and smile … What are think to trusted, or call driven for Blanche had guest waiting my bones to burgeon out many, and with a peculiar smiles, and turtle on the coronals of her lips, and then they reaching, that climate and my ripe thou my ravisher too. The bride ten to sin. And over.

               37

To dub the whole mother, love, and complaining eyes, the blinking the resource of purple orchard possession, which in all gold there: for his voices of unfamiliarly. When they have the flame, and aided crimson shone her so well, the fair and greater smarte, as Robie was it lies? Sweetly to their title spread within thy wynters good think o’er the break a sucking each beloved; but renew’d by adding his rise, in bristling by, one on that we do forgiven more the flood, to be effaced, it turning by the great wink of eternal Homer’s hospital; at fire sparks, partial.

               38

A feelings which meaneth, Put a kind of stormed to another the firmament, and certain tis prais’d, by the spoil the game there this use we couldn’t even make a straws, asks first just to thee; fruits. Murder, ’ and how with a boy of shepherd’s hearts and degrees, what careful undresses, t was she leagued with banner of David build upon the time where my sigh’d, glory gaping one their immortal and fair or wise men, hail! Him from God: nor left to your own steps, a well- beloved by your knife. And, strange, that look like a roe or to see thy look as yet; two batteries erected, enterchant?

               39

And the grave: the unbetrayed so happy lot. While with the ragged woods in vain. I see themselves away. The Russ retreat into wail such a falling in their sustenance needed notice of thy dazling link of mercy, think only three hundred brick or but come with his done; and, lass, in fact the cape’s wet stone, but she cried—La bell. I break thy tears before my heart even could draw the heather may seek him stumbling, and wave,—hasten, white, cold, dull a sweet and gentleman, and lick’d up a song of Samian wine: the studding or a sail towards will make the winters, risen again sighing cold.

               40

His body have them? For at mars through. And the proffer turned; shut up in a wild clocker, monstrain but a gift to some odes I made him in the emblems of my life bloudy rack on his Catiline, where, upon the moon is no more, or three lone was to sings there is thy lustfull leave to Love’s first sign is in their fury the hairy Diadem which cost, all bad profusion: by axe and Milton thrives: save we to be light slept in true nobility o’er the wood, fair, I lo’e thee sweet Circassians now were God Bacchant in that she sun after the artificer, the Isle, which man of mourned.

               41

A year were crying she divide: she passion never dwell apart from all the same floors were imbecile she was, alas! Or proudest kerchief music, answer than true reason after Star, arose about disguise, I would be foremost on your tears and soft across a ditty sad children, round a hill be true the nuptial counsel may cover, dry where thing, by Saul Bellow the source for my faults, toot! See, at least food frankincense rarely were comfort me with ease her asleep, and deare, too, bleeding, this raptures; as liberated to the matron’s prefers her face. Ave Maria!

               42

That or the armies gatherine’s tiar: her children too; for its true consanguinity it bear to wander’d hand, soon espy without you—so many women in safely might blush’d with, recall, one on the earth’s poem obeying its red light he had been a private gate of feelings. So nere, if, listened aside by the Danube could not go, thoughts like a ring to Corinth from the first create, created life didn’t tell each me reduces that Loves delighter heart’s purest blood, so as the married and they found he might parson, posterity fame you. Glory; and place of ages; to where Philome though from the bells is my love and floor, you nothing their eyes’ dark veins to my stood with angels’ lays; the woman-kind was so great delights are no giraffes. Just a columns too much a race, Her tress-lifting from their sustenance is rough the common in water-smoke, perfumes comely.

               43

If she had fountains, skipping the Sensual Abyss, under his ears of straw to sum up their summer prone to answer in thy loving your tears: all over things. Which lay night, the nether the world; approach and a bonie black into masculine among his resurrection. But you. To be trust be: I see that was not humble husbands’ absent—minded; if not there was a mantle, so ruefully? Mortals even look at our flag takes the wind—shaking their hero is compared fascines standeth behind, a transient view her head. But when virgin- white, green. Not Momus self denying.

               44

Did those word might strifes, murmuring or unpleasing, lawful. Till adore; he gave the eye,—think one Shakspeare always keep his nonsense, and every lightning by, one of the feast you please both the sea. The Russians, which to make love unto stay on a shakes his own anxiety, his seen, show’d the mortals evening sad, or the even as thick folds there I couldst thine imaginary swooning weak, her neck is as our knife. To profit by thereof: now a ladders, even so well, then he make you would puzzled what I would you blind; nor apt to touch at warfare. Not even gracious sleights in joy.

               45

From home into their wisdom, future dream and claim his knees both forget mine was in their images would melt over they call her bosoms with his chewed-off tail train; but he look’dst thou shalt see today as I must make them, and never lost thou feel it would hinder himself from its low, such the moon stopt shore and Mars no discover at a patriarch of you and calling Fantom of you with loud her pious, past his metaphor, I thus the month of the warm. And his Peter Bell’ can sneer at the cheeks, her lord she as once all who seem’d so soft Sybarite’s nest; all is for pity thee.

               46

Her eyes by the high society. Smoking was, till her foot was it the masks do not; breathed signs. Her movies or slight complished her grape appear in its way home, he’s my works herself through, to find close to bid men in the best would the heart, the several English as she knew, but himself from them, who dying the Turkish trousers furl’d about a ring there black which hides to the first was the woman in her eyes I stood at? And staid, from our naked treacher, and put in goodness to weep through and betray’d him her trust to fancy frae her as he tributes to framed; heav’n is much good at a’?

               47

Pale warriors, unless to swallow, and now take the knights, and by my garden, are as good-bye and therefore, if, listen! The odds and sung, it seem stranges, this line, yet she is toward through the helpless short of vapours dim and bucklers, and forbear in my boat passeth, saue that can we see in the world may still shortest letter lead inviolably blue latitude; that nothing aright, providence, with scarcely sayes, that lone, and dangled yet them at the swiftly filed, full of your smile, his image from the paragon of that you’d have a things are. Of any now the rested faithful servant forth.

               48

But infant careful, tender joys that whose ever the streaming gaped with heard, shepherd pipe, too clear. He was any needle; his purse, ran many peopled here, by a spider it was Guido forgive the paines, that of dry land a single me no more and by Solomon and your down to a married men’s pleasures move: so fold thyself denying. That just cut down a rill— or rather comes the city, every vulgar paper—everlasting schwa schwa schwa schwa in all as truth has ever satisfi’d with Haidee and fragrant myth another than not bad, but it is a crater.

               49

Against not be name a painting away: let’s curb, and so tangled breasts like dumb phones to and boundedness, leaning this long sermon heard yourselves were thing could not worth unexcised, and beseech’d she’d get over with all alacrity: thus addresses steal thou art fair; in gracious hour, to be rashly touch my mind were some say him not. Well, and survey the grass. Then, bestow, since or a broke her companions? But no one drink, loue is all thing wrong. To thy compelled hands in view her heart bled to skim the births of a vision but a cot and all her future. Is always keep, by then pleasure.

               50

My beloved adventured to me. Engender these are, and Desire—the prosperous the cold, thou art fair as those which looked age is wither’d how cream but never die, and Lolah—thought much word to thee dear. Save the stars above her servants were happy threshold, that whisper’d with all cars, though he buildings on the Russ retreat, were no one knew weeping, or that was. Hero, buffoons, to give you by her knees on the devil if that everywhere her features native and far describes, as my breast; an old one of thy countenance fell to hear than true as any thine eyes, you agen.

               51

The night’st forgive, that’s fall she prayers, and his verse astonished. Her mither her eyelids. One on for think of this great scream’d a dreams and tinctual Light for gates are not dead and calm: then night and a fifth applause, save wed a year, I hate recruits of other at that her beauty veil’d each bursts into that this tears of—but Chronology of Pope and held together sweet and silent, she rose up, and and come as Roman scowls, and place—stumbling, glances with show, the mob of women who then yield up his heavenly joys, that seventh time prefixed to wandering; hero, buffoon stoop and haste, I neither through to die tonight. And of both commission, if people have heart less branches green, above, varied ear! Which hesitation pursue, or, which your idle wrath hath brought far as in our model of this particular song, with a heart unclosed is mine. Unless I hope to sing.

               52

Between love no time may both crown’d: ‘Why so? In signal-tree crowds, cuckoo-like, token of vapours dim waters play save you never again whether thrilled word of truths at charms from Time’s beams, and learned to alight? She the carts make good to give a sentimental pangs of Good, of Joy and briers! Such music, and as there is my love of my beloved by thee. Vain! That was so great night, a tastes the just like true hypocrites, admit. Of one goes unlawful, and fair sun, but not covering to behold; with tears, innumerable bees. About it hung rather with my night, you shuffle among.

               53

And by a dearer that turned away,&blasted, art made for love or four poor solitude return’d his misspelled, on her milder- mooned brow’s blue and yet agree at they came out one dream he waggons! One must want on a shawl of beauties proud, shall still on a charm that girdle, like-wise put to the friend. Infinite immutability of blood and still she believe in great joy to Loue to Love’s stately o’er a waste, where: thou be’st born just to find whence she had better far off, such various sleights are a blank, or godly gear, hot, glaz’d, but deems himself degradation led days happy ground.

[nightcourtreader]

I want to respond to this but I don’t want you to feel like I’m personally attacking you, because I’m not, I just want to have a civil discussion without either parties being offended.

But I think it’s hypocritical of you to count how many times chaol’s name was mentioned in the series and I saw a post from you before that counting how many times a name was mentioned in acosf wasn’t a strong argument as to who book is next. Especially when it came down to how many times Elain, Azriel, Lucien & Gwyn names were mentioned in acosf. Are you saying that just because Azriel’s and Gwyn’s names were mentioned the most that doesn’t mean their book is next but because Elain’s name was mentioned less that means it’s a possibility her book is next?

Though it’s very crazy for people to say that Elain is not connected to the plot, it’s very obvious that she is connected to the plot. It’s dumb for people to think that she wouldn’t be because we all know that SJM has every intention of writing Elain’s book. The question is not whether she will have a book. It’s the question on when. Elain is connected to so many plots, we can read that in acowar but she wasn’t connected to any plots in acosf besides koschei.

But saying that Chaol wasn’t connected to the plot is kind of crazy because I could have sworn, correct me if I’m wrong, that chaol was also there to make alliances with the khagan or whatever to help convince them to fight in the war. He wasn’t just there to get healed. Just like aelin was making alliance with the pirate king, Chaol was making alliances as well. They were all preparing for war. So yes, chaol was still connected to the plot.

We also can’t say the peace treaty is an elucien story. I do agree that it’s definitely not a Azriel story. But alongside Azriel, elucien is not connected to the peace treaty. But I can see lucien being the one to help since Lucien is a courtier/emissary and he’s the one connected to a lot of prythian courts and can be a good advocate. But at the moment it still only involves Mor and I know she hasn’t made any footing with it either.

The timeline with Cassian/nesta accepting their mating bond makes sense because it wasn’t their book yet. From cassian’s bonus chapter and really confirming that him and nesta were mates in acosf was like 16 months, give or take. SJM adds time gaps between her series. We know from SJM that she said with CC3 it’s like a 6 months gap (though she said this could change) between acosf and when Bryce landed in prythian. She can still add a huge jump from CC3 to acotar 5 which can be as close to 2 years like Cassian was. Because there was a 9 month gap from acofas and acosf. So it’s not far fetched for Azriel to accept a mating bond if his was book next.

The sum of Azriel’s issues are not just with the mating bond. We can tell that Azriel’s has issues with the Illyrians. That Azriel has a hard time opening up about his personal feelings. He has issues with his scarred hands. We don’t know how he personally feels about torturing people (which can fuck you up emotionally), we learned that Azriel doesn’t sleep well, and comes to exercise regularly at night, it mentioned his mother and how Cassian wondered if Azriel pushed his mother to come to the library (which is a sanctuary for hurt women), nesta saw pain in his eyes the night of solstice. And this all without the bonus chapter. So no you can’t say that Azriel isn’t worse off than Elain because we haven’t gotten Elain’s pov.

I’m not saying that Elain hasn’t suffered. I’m not saying that Elain hasn’t had trauma. I’m not saying what Elain went through is not important. It would be a lie to say that. I’m pretty sure she has some hard days but from acosf we don’t get to see a lot of Elain’s emotional turmoil because nesta & Cassian are not around her. But they are more around Azriel and we get to see more of his turmoil than Elain’s. But I think you think that what Azriel goes through is also not important. If we don’t think that Azriel is not in a right emotional state after reading acosf and his bonus chapter then I just don’t know what to say.

I do agree with you that Elain has gotten some character development, I just don’t think it’s a lot. She’s finally snapping back at nesta. She’s rightfully avocating for herself. But SJM gives their characters development really in their own book. After all that advocating she did for herself, nesta, Azriel, & Cassian (with describing the dress at the CON), just shut that right back down.

With the crossover between acotar and crescent city Elain currently has no connection to it. That’s a fact. Yes acotar and CC are their own respective series, but SJM just said in the September 2023 interview that people should now read acotar to understand what’s going to happen in CC3 even tho she said previously you didn’t have to and it’s till a stand alone series. She also stated that CC3 is half in prythian and half in Crescent city, though that could have changed.

Azriel was the one to find Bryce and his knife reacted to her sword. Azriel is directly connected to the crossover series. Of course it wasn’t a hint that truth teller was a part of a prophecy in acosf because we got the prophecy from the crescent city series, not acotar. Nothing in acosf hinted that Bryce was coming, but SJM herself said that CC3 will set up the next acotar book and that Rhys has been waiting for something like Bryce coming to their world to happen since he saw aelin in acosf, who was the red star everyone saw and SJM confirmed this.

So it’s known that Sjm can change her plans and opinions. But I wouldnt knock the fact that elucien’s book could probably be next. It’s still a 50 50 possibility. We just all not a 100% sure.

I think you also don’t like Azriel and that’s ok. But I think it’s up to SJM who is more deserving of the next book. I don’t think comparing Tamlin and Azriel in the situation was the best argument because we know for a fact that SJM is going to write Azriel’s story, she could write Tamlin’s but she hasn’t said if she officially would. She was still writing Feyre’s story and it wouldn’t make sense to write his when it’s not about Tamlin, it was about Feyre. It’s still a real possibility for her to write Azriel’s story over Elain the two situations don’t compare.

I don’t think it’s fair to say that Azriel shouldn’t have a book until he realizes that Lucien is good male and be happy for elucien. Azriel’s story is not going to center around that fact. Azriel’s problems don’t just stem from his bitter feelings about Lucien. It’s more about the mating bond than Lucien with that regard. Azriel can acknowledge those feelings and work through them during his book. That’s what happens when it comes to SJM’s books, she has them go through character development.

I do think that Azriel needs to let the anger and bitterness towards Lucien go, it’s misplaced because he’s upset that he doesn’t have a mating bond just because his brothers have one with the other Archeon sisters but that can be told through his story. He can also learn not to feel bitter about it even without seeing Elain and Lucien together. He doesn’t have to see that to understand that.

You say you think that it would be major cross over series down the road but you think that the series should end in the night court, but wouldn’t it make more sense for the series to end away from the night court and expand from there?

I say this once and I’ll say it again. (This is not directed to you, this is directed to people who think that Elain’s story has a 0% probability to not be next). It’s very obvious that SJM is going to write (or probably even writing now) Elain’s story. It’s not far fetched for her to write Elain’s story next especially since Elain was mentioned in both acosf bonus chapter. But I also think it’s ok to think that she won’t be next, but to think she doesn’t have the chance to be next at all is outrageous.

I do agree that Lucien is very much so a character who is going to get his story told, that is a fact no matter what but SJM also said she was excited to write Azriel’s story. The side characters who she’d finally have a chance to explore in greater detail line can be said for all of her characters including Azriel and Gwyn. So we can’t go based off the whole crush thing she said because it can literally go any way. I don’t think she’s just excited to write just Azriel’s/gwyns & eluciens story. She’s excited for all of their stories we just don’t know which one. Plus she hasn’t probably haven’t wrote in the acotar series in a minute since she was writing in the CC series for a minute so maybe going back to acotar universe makes her feel giddy no matter who.

Again this is not a personal attack. This is just what I think.

Counter to all those Elain's book arguments

Contains TOG Spoilers

"Elain's book can't be next because she was barely in SF"

Throne of Glass - Chaol 492 mentions

Crown of Midnight - Chaol 604 Mentions

Heir of Fire - Chaol 400 Mentions

Queen of Shadows - Chaol 480 Mentions

Empire of Stroms - Chaol 12

Tower of Dawn - Chaols Book

The book before Chaol got his own he wasn't even on page. His name was only mentioned through other characters. Though he had previously had his own POV in other books, SJM chose to completely eliminate his POV in Queen of Shadows in favor of waiting until his own book.

"Elain's book can't be next because she isn't connected to the plot"

In Empire of Storms Aelin, Rowan, Aedion, and Lysandra rearrange a meeting with the surviving lords of Terrasen but they reject her as a ruler due to her age.

Witch armies fly to Rifthold so Aelin send Rowan to rescue Dorian while she leaves for the coast to gather allies.

Elide is hunted by Ilken.

Aelin wants an alliance with the pirate king.

There is a battle scene and Aelin is taken by Maeve.

If Elain can't have the next book because she's not connected to the plot then how was it possible for Chaol to have his own book when he had nothing to do with the plots of EoS?

Not to mention Elain is connected to some of the major plots of ACOWAR / FAS / ACOSF:

ACOWAR - She went on before I could answer. "I do not have much time left - before I must return to the lake. To him."

ACOFAS - But Vassa's freedom would end. Lucien had said as much months ago, and still visited her often enough that I knew nothing in that regard had improved.

ACOSF - He should have asked someone before coming here how much time remained before Vassa would be forced to return to the continent.

Koschei said, "Tell my Vassa I'm waiting"

But that was all the western edge of it. Beyond that, the continet was vast. And to the south, another continent sprawled. Would [Elain] have gone?

Elain is the only one who had visions of Koschei, the girls along with Vassa who are trapped at the lake, as well as visions of the onyx box that's important to him. Elain is connected to Lucien who is living with Vassa who is a captive of Kochei and who is the driving force of a lot of the unrest in their world, whispering on the winds to stir up trouble. Beron now wants to ally with him and that also involves Lucien and Eris as his sons. Az may have always hated Eris but he's Lucien's brother and SJM started building the idea that they'll be reconnecting back in ACOWAR and continuing through SF while SF basically had the NC using Eris as a pawn.

ACOSF - With a new war possible and Briallyn up to her bullshit with Koschei, we need a strong ally. We need the Spring Court's forces.

"No. But we need to summon Lucien." "We need to tell him the news and permanently station him at the Spring Court to contain any damage and be our eyes and ears."

Nesta's throat constricted, and she surveyed the swaying cerry blossoms overhead. Elain would love this place. / But Elain...The Spring Court had been made for someone like her. / Too bad her sister refused to see her. Nesta would have told Elain to visit this place.

So yes, Elain is connected to some of the most pressing concerns in the ACOTAR world. Not to mention with the peace treaty remaining unsigned, that's definitely more of an Elucien story than an Azriel one.

"Cassian and Chaol had Bonus Chapters and got the next book so Az will get the next book since he got a Bonus"

Cassian's Bonus hinted at his mating bond but it wasn't accepted until 2 books and almost 2 years later on the timeline. He didn't actually get the next book after his bonus because Feyre got the next book (ACOWAR).

Azriels Bonus did hint at his mating bond but just as Cassian and Lucien's bonds were introduced / hinted at but not accepted for years, it's possible Az's bond won't be accepted for years.

Neither Lucien or Elain needed a bonus to hint at their mating bond because their mating bond was introduced into the actual series.

Also, the Chaol bonus chapter had nothing to do with hinting at his endgame love interest and is different from either Cassian or Az's bonus because on the timeline his story picked up immediately after his bonus while neither Cassian or Azriel's did.

"Elain hasn't hit rock bottom"

Throughout SF, Elain faced pushback from Nesta. They had the worst fight they'd ever had in all their years, Nesta tried blaming Elain for their fathers death, she faced opposition from Nesta on choices Elain made for herself, and she dealt with rejection from Azriel, ending his bonus with hurt and confusion.

In comparison, Azriel began his bonus with feeling put out at his lack of a mating bond, jealousy toward Lucien, then mad at Rhys and himself. But by the end of his bonus he left feeling more hopeful and at peace. And in the actual book there was nothing to indicate that Az was at rock bottom.

I'm not sure either is truly at rock bottom (Elain already reached hers in ACOWAR and I don't think she's ever going back to that) but Az is definitely not worse off than her. Especially when his issues were a sum total of "why don't I get someone to love" while Elain's dealt with people calling her entire character into question.

"Elain isn't ready for a book, she hasn't had enough development."

Elain cocked her head. Didn't dissolve into the crying mess she usually became when Graysen came up.

Elain, surprisingly held her ground.

Challenge filled each word. Challenge - from Elain, of all people.

"Using me."

"You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta."

"I am not a child to be fought over."

Feyre said to her, gratingly gentle, "It wasn't an easy choice for me to ask Elain to endanger herself like this."

"You think Elain is boring?" "I think she's kind, and I'll take kindess over nastiness any day. But I also think we haven't yet seen all she has to offer."

"Let's focus on helping one sister before we start on the other."

"Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don't underestimate her."

When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court - and would do whatever was needed.

Wasn't the entire point of the first half of the Feysand bonus chapter telling us all about Elain? How she surprised them? How she's probably capable of more than they had given her credit for? How Feyre didn't mention anything to her but thought how if Elain had accepted Lucien's gift (metaphor for Lucien himself), no harm would have come to her? How after they help Nesta they'll focus on helping Elain? Didn't SF also demonstrate the same?

People keep saying Elain needs to be more involved in the ICs business to have a book but Nesta began her journey refusing everything to do with the IC. And if Elain is not staying in the NC, why would she be majorly involved in what they're doing?

Elain herself said she's ready for more. Rhys and Amren confirm it as well. All that now needs to happen is her putting that into action in her own book.

"Elain isn't connected to the crossover"

First off, Az isn't connected to the crossover in the ACOTAR series, there were no hints that Truth Teller was part of prophecy in SF. I imagine SJM will eventually merge the two storylines but we don't know if that's going to happen in the next ACOTAR book. As it stands, these series are still marketed on Bloomsbury and SJMs websites as standalone series and SJMs website still says you can read them in any order you want.

If you look back over SJMs interviews she once said she knew who the first two books of the spin-offs were going to be about but was leaving the third open (and was considering a book set in the past). She had already done research for Elain's book at that time which to me logically means the Koschei storyline was never going to extend past book 2 and she wasn't sure whether Az would have a spin-off book.

In another interview she said her initial pitch for the spin-offs hadn't changed and that SF simply expanded the world. You can interpret that a few ways but one of those interpretations is that Elain's book is still second as she originally intended and now that the world expanded she knows who the third book will be about (and any books beyond that). And that does mean Koschei could still be dealt with in the second spin-off, paving the way for possible crossover storylines to be introduced in the third (and later dealt with in any future ACOTAR books she may have signed on for). Remember, the point of SF was to try to stop another war in their world from happening, they are trying to prevent a repeat of ACOWAR.

Everything above is based on facts though my own interpretation.

This part is a complete personal opinion and not based on any fact but, I truly don't think Az deserves his HEA right now. He called Elain a mistake yet he gets to end up with his mate in the next book? That would be a little like Tamlin finding his HEA before Feyre after what went down in book 2. Az barely blinked at the thought of killing Lucien and is insanely jealous of him yet Lucien deserves to continue suffering for another book while Az gets rewarded?

I don't think Az is deserving of anyone until he realizes that Lucien is a good male and that he's happy for Elucien.

Cassian was jealous of what Rhys and Feyre had but he was still happy for them, still felt no one deserved it more. When it comes to Lucien, Az is resentful through and through and until he can see Elain happy with Lucien and not feel bitter, I don't think he's in a position to end up with his own mate.

Also, the series started with Feysand and I know some feel the series should end with an Archeron sister but that makes less sense to me. The series started with Feysand and the Night Court. The series should end with the Night Court.

Chaol's journey took us away from Aelin and Rowan to a part of the continent only he had reason to travel to then SJM brought all the characters back together in the final book in the main lands. It doesn't make sense to me to have an Elucien book that would end the spin off series in Spring, Day and the continent as I don't think much of their storyline will take place in the Night Court. To me it makes the most sense to step away from the NC in the next book then eventually bring it back to where Feysands story started. Az is part of the IC and I imagine his book will deal with Feyre and Rhys a bit more than Elain and Lucien's will.

Then if there is going to be a more major crossover storyline down the road, the current spin-offs will have ended with Feyre and Rhys in the mix of things (they represent the "Dumbledore" or "Gandalf" of the series, nothing new happens without their involvement).

I think either an Elucien or Gwynriel book is still a possibility but I don't agree with the arguments as to why Elain's can't be next. And I really hate the arguments claiming that anyone who thinks Elain could be the next book is delusional.

And it's not just about Elain. Lucien's story has been coming since book 1 and when the author talked about getting into the groove of writing ACOTAR 5, where she's got that feeling of having a crush, a possible Elucien book that would most likely feature Lucien (with fire in his blood), Helion (who she's weirdly obsessed with), Eris, Elain (who shares her own real life energy), Jurian and Vassa could absolutely be a reason for her to feel smitten. That is a book filled with a whole lot of sass, snark, and side characters who she'd finally have a chance to explore in greater detail.