#anyway I just finished the prince and the pauper

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

...

Okay, before I give my two cents about this subject, let me give the info of what is actually going on in this article, because it is behind a paywall and I somebody needs to show what it is actually saying in it.

So, that is what it says, it doesn't put who say this is information, how did they get it, or anything, this is what it puts.

Take that as you will, I will now give my opinion below this.

I know I just say that there is no really realiable source here, that is just says "this is what I heard," and all that.

However...I could believe it, because it makes a lot of sense.

I don't know how many of you actually read the article, in regards of the exploitation of the animators, but it wasn't the only thing they talked about.

Another thing mentioned how was how they were months with the animators doing nothing because they keep changing their ideas, how even when they gave them work, a lot of scenes got scrapped after they were finished, because they decided to go in another direction.

Across the Spider-verse went through A LOT of revisions, until the very end.

You can see it in how the art book has an entire section dedicated to a scene we never see in the movie. How the design of margo (both there and in her Funko-pop,) is completely different.

There is also mentions about how originally, Across the Spider-verse was going to have Earth 42 Miles be more involved, in a more "prince and the pauper," kind of situation, from what I remember.

Besides, this happens A LOT in movies, like a lot. I own multiple art books, and the "we originally had this idea, but we scrapped and went with this instead," isn't uncommon.

There are people saying this situation is due to Phil, because of what I mentioned earlier. But let me remind you there is no confirmation of that; they mention Sony, something else could be going on.

Anyways, those are my thoughts; we can't be really sure until we have more official info, but if you ask me, sounds likely.

[bananarollerskates]

I had an idea for a jegulus au while I was In stats this afternoon

so Imagine w me

a modern(ish) princess and the pauper *general vibe*

except it's reg and Sirius (who in this world are not brothers)

Sirius is on his crown prince shit

with our bestie James as his knight/escort

and reg is a just, like, a regular guy

reg is a librarian/tutor, for the record

so Orion (who isn't absolute garbage, but like, is really neglectful) decides that Sirius needs a new tutor, for whatever reason

*note that in here, walburga died when sirius was little*

remus was Siriuss previous tutor, and so when he leaves Sirius is #heartbroken

so anyways reg rolls up as his new tutor guy

and OmG wOuLd U lOoK aT tHaT they're nearly identical

so after a bit of gaining regs trust (whilst reg has been so professional and James has been less so) Sirius proposes a plan

him and reg will swap for a little while, so that he can go find his remus

regulus hesitantly agrees, but will only do it after Sirius had finished the term that reg is teaching

(I'm thinking that Sirius has a new tutor every once in a while cause Orion and his entitled ass doesn't want Sirius "getting to connected to the common people)

so Siriuss lessons continue, Sirius continues to miss remus, and James keeps trying to talk to regulus and is low-key flirting,

and reg has become aware of his little crush on james (so he continues to try to ignore him like he always has)

FINALLY reg and Sirius switch places

leaving Sirius to go off on his own for the first time to find remus, and

regulus alone with james in the palace

and so the romantic things ensue

Sirius staying with remus and remuss sister,

and realizing how comforting the way typical people live is

I think Peter will also be there?

regulus is fitting in to his temporary royalty surprisingly well (with the help of James, and the lessons in it that Sirius gave him before he left)

and you already know James is a simp for royalty regulus

*as he should be*

so now imagine all of the shenanigans, Sirius and remus having a cute, fluffy time together (despite Peter and remuss sister teasing them). and James and reg absolutely pining after each other and then finally FINALLY getting together.

okay so now it's finally time for them to switch back

and let me tell you

this next little time period is absolute hell on a stick for all four of them

imagine Sirius and James in Sirius room just crying over how much they miss their little tutor boyfriends

and regulus opts to move in with remus (bc he has nowhere else to move back in to) and their having just as bad a time with the separation

okay, I'm gonna continue this later once I've thought through it more

[sassmill]

It’s so unfair that Sam Clemens lived before historybounding was a thing because it is so painfully clear to me that he would’ve been all in for Renaissance clothing, purely based on how much language he devoted to describing raiment of both high and low. I just want to take him to a ren faire. Give him a little Turkey leg. Slam some mead. Watch a sword fight.

[mgsapphire]

My K-drama recommendation master list Part 2

You can find part 1 here

Look, you gave us relatively new recommendations, what about ones older than 10 years? I'll give you my top 5

Princess Hours (2006) Is a modern Cinderella story. It's 24 episodes long. Available on Viki.

Personal Taste (2010) Honestly, problematic plot if you put your mind into it, but entertaining nonetheless. It's 16 episodes long, each one lasting a little over an hour, available on Viki.

Cinderella's Sister (2010) You hate every character, but there's still something that makes you watch it. Available on Viki.

Thank You (2007) was ahead of its time, it's about a single mother with a daughter who has an HIV+ diagnosis. 16 episodes long, each one lasting a little over an hour. Available on Viki.

Stairway to Heaven (2003) for a good melodrama.

What about romantic fantasies involving fantastic beings?

Guardian: The lonely and Great God(2016) A classic of the genre. It tells the story of a God who was once a man, and is being punished by immortality, unless he meets his bride, who just so happens to be a high schooler centuries later. Available on viki. 16 episodes long with 3 specials, all lasting about 75 minutes.

Hotel Del Luna (2019) it would be unfair to talk about Goblin, without talking about this other masterpiece about a being cursed into immortality and granted special availabilities along with it, but a curse is still a curse, and she must run a hotel meant for ghosts, where after centuries of being, meets a young man who is alive. Availability on Viki, 16 episodes long and each one lastz about 75 minutes.

Tale of the Nine Tailed (2020) You get to see Lee Dong Wook as another mystical being, and Kim Bum is his half brother. 16 episodes long and one special, each one lasting about 65 minutes. Available on Viki.

My roommate is a Gumiho (2021) what's up with gumihos? It's still airing. The title is self explanatory. Available on Viki and Qiyi.

Angel's last mission: Love (2019) is a cute and sad story about an angel who is about to ascend and a ballerina who has a cynical view of the world. Available on Viki. Each episode averages 30 minutes, with 32 episodes.

Doom at your service (2021) About to finish airing. It tells the story of a dying woman who wishes doom upon the world, and the doom who answers her plea. Available on viki, 16 episodes long, each one lasting about an hour.

The Scholar Who walks the night (2015) another Lee Joon Gi entry, but I swear all of his works are great, it's a period drama that tells the story of a scholar who is a vampire and the young bookseller he meets. It's 20 episodes long, each one lasting about an hour. Available on viki. Also, if you've liked Lee Soo Hyuk in Doom at Your Service, I advise you check this one out.

Tale of Arang (2012) two Lee Joon Gi entries in a row? Girl, you have to stop. Anyways, this one is another period piece of a magistrate who can see ghosts and the ghost of a young woman who doesn't remember her life, nor the cause of her death. Available on viki, it's 20 episodes long, each one lasting a little over an hour.

Look, those are fine or whatever, but I started as a K-pop fan, where can I see some idol dramas? Don't worry, I came prepared

Full House (2004) with Rain as the main character is the og idol drama in my opinion. Available on Viki. 16 episodes long, each one lasting about 73 minutes.

Imitation (2021) is currently airing, and it's literally an idol drama about idols. You can find a looot of idols too: Jeong Yun Ho and Park Seong Hwa from Ateez, Chani and Hwi Young from SF9, Park Ji Yeon from T-ara, Lim Na Young from I.O.I and Pristin, and although Jeong Ji So is not an idol, she is the main lead, and I absolutely love her, she's also in Doom at your service. Available on Viki.

Miss Panda and Mr. Hedgehog (2012) features Donghae from Super Junior, and if I'm going to recommend a Super Junior drama, I would rather recommend one featuring him over Siwon.

At a Distance the Spring is Green (2021) is currently airing too, and only has four released episodes, but I've liked it so far. Featuring Park Ji Hoon, and Kwon Dun Bin. Also, I have a lot of opinions about this show. Available on Viki.

I was going to put an IU drama but, all her dramas are good, so go and watch them all, the woman has range.

Dream High (2011) is the king of idol dramas, in my opinion. It talksa about a high school for people who want to be idols. Another one with a long line up of idols, so let me start: Suzy, IU, Taecyeon, Nichkhun and Wooyoung from 2PM, Ham Eun Jung from T-ara. Leeteuk (SuJu and Chansung (2PM) make cameos. Similarly to Imitation, Kim Soo Hyun is not an idol, but he's the main lead. It's 16 episodes long, each one lasting about 65 minutes. Available on Viki.

Wow, quite a few, but they all seem rather popular, do you have some underrated gems? I'm going to have to go down memory lane, but I do

The Queen's Classroom (2013) This one feels like a fever dream, because I'm aware it exists, I watched it back when it first aired, but I can't find it anywhere now. It's based on a Japanese drama of the same name. It's about a strict but warm hearted teacher and her students' lives and struggles. 16 episodes long. DM me if you find anywhere to watch it.

1% of Something (2016) is a really cute drama, the chemistry is off the charts, and if you're looking for skinship, this one is the one for you, underrated arranged marriage kdrama, I'm telling you. It's 16 episodes long, averaging 45 minutes, and it's on Viki.

I'm not a Robot (2017) has a really cute plot, not underrated per se, but not hyped enough. It's 32 episodes long, each one averaging 30 minutes. Available on Viki.

Do you like Brahms? (2020) is a music themed kdrama, really cute and wholesome. If you like 2setviolin and watched their critique on their YouTube channel, let me tell you, the cast actually knows how to play violin and stuff, and there's an actual child prodigy in there. It got so much hate bc of that one yt video. It's 16 episode long, each one lasting about an hour. Available on Viki.

Solomon's Perjury (2016) a good reflection on youth and the pressure society has. 12 episodes long, lasting about 63 minutes each. Available on Viki.

The Greatest Love (2011) is a super entertaining TV show, and just supper funny and cute. 16 episodes long, each one lasting around 65 minutes. Available on Viki.

Two Cops (2017) if you like Kim Seon Ho, I think this was his TV acting debut. It's a hilarious action comedy TV show. 32 episodes long, lasting around 30 minutes. Available on viki.

Do you have any recommendations where time traveling or time is central to the story?

Alice (2020) look, I can't give you a full explanation because it's too mind bending. Let's leave it at detective meets his mother. Available on Viki.

Signal (2016) The premise is similar to that of the movie Frequency (2000) in which there's communication between the past and the present via technology. The plot is based on the real Hwaseong serial murders. Really interesting. Available on Netflix. If you like the premise of communicating with the past via technology Call (2020) is a Korean thriller movie available on Netflix.

Chicago Typewriter (2017) this one is about reincarnation but we get to see both timelines. Available on Netflix.

Tomorrow with you (2017) Time-traveling but make it ✨depressing ✨. The story of a man who time travels, and how that ability messes with his marriage. Available on Netflix.

What about historical dramas? I don't really watch those, but here are some I liked

The Moon Embracing the Sun (2012) is one of the few I've finished. It's really good, it follows the love story of a king. Available on viki. 20 episodes long, each one lasting about an hour.

Gunman in Joseon (2014) Am I recommending you this one because of Lee Joon Gi? Maybe. It has 22 episodes, each one lasting about an hour. Available on Viki.

The Crowned Clown (2019) a story of the Prince and the Pauper if I must give you a description that is relatable, but if you know the book titled Skogland, it's closer to that. It's 16 episodes long, each one lasting about 80 minutes. Available on Viki.

I'm a little ashamed to say this, but do you have any BL? I do, I do

To My Star (2021) is a story about an actor and a chef, and how they learn to cohabit after the actor is forced into hiding. You can watch either the movie version or the drama version, both available on viki.

Color Rush (2020) is a modern romance fantasy about people called Monos who can't see any color unless they meet their Probes, however this may turn dangerous as the Monos may experience obsessive behavior, so what happens when a young high schooler meets his probe?. You can either watch it on its drama or movie version. Both available on viki. By the way, if you're a long time deobi and was wandering what happened to Hwall, he's one of the main leads.

You Make Me Dance (2021) follows the story of a university dancer who is in debt and his debt collector. Available on viki in both versions. The movie is 107 minutes long.

Just Friends (2009) is a short film, but ahead of its time, if you can't tell by the year it was released on. It's a cute story about a man who visits his boyfriend in the military. I found it in dramacool.

That's all from me, if you have any specific genre or them you felt I didn't add in, do feel free to tell me.

[realcube]

her prince || fairytale au! iida x reader

summary: you disguise as a princess in order to get into a formal event at the palace with the intention of killing the king but then you encounter the prince, soon to be king, and he’s a bit more charming than you’d like to admit.

(a/n): idk this might be a royalty au! or perhaps a medieval au! but idek tbh

tw// fem! reader, poison, mentions of animal zapping, begging, a bit of meanie iida

“Why does (y/n) get to be the princess?” Your friend, and fellow member of the SOIR, whined from beside you. “She has the most peasanty features out of us all!” 

Everyone else in the base groaned in union at her constant whining about the assigned roles, the ring leader of this operation — otherwise known as Katsuki Bakugo — finally broke his elongated silence as he previously seemed quite invested in whatever he was scribbling. 

Suddenly, he shot up from his desk then proceeded to slam his fist against it, causing all of it’s contents to tremble, “Shut up! As if you’re one to talk about peasanty features, Mina!” He barked at the girl, his aggressive demeanour faltering once he noticed how his hostility caused you to wear an alarmed expression. 

“We need her natural charm on the field, anyway.” he muttered, hastily sitting back down at his desk. Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari all had to do their best to suppress their snickers and focus on the tasks they had been given. However, they were all struggling as it was simply comedy gold to see their boss have such an evident crush on (y/n) but simultaneously be so far deep in denial for the sake of his pride.

Bakugo grabbed the scroll he had been writing on for the last few hours and held it up to display what looked like a numbered list, written in cursive. Therefore, you were unable to read it. In fact, none of you were able to read it; Bakugo was the only literate one among you, hence the reason why he immediately assumed leader of this operation even though it was originally your idea.

Upon noticing all of your blank expressions as you stared at what looked like a glorified piece of paper, he cleared his throat so he could begin explaining what he wrote to you. “I wrote out the plan-of-action for us to follow tomorrow but I forgot that you are all dunces so I’m going to have to read it aloud for you, aren’t I?”

You all nodded in unison which was promptly followed by Bakugo rolling his eyes once more and turning to read the plan.

“SOIR — stage one in (the) revolution — plan of action. Written and led by Katsuki Bakugo, soon to be King Explosion Murder!” He smiled to himself but it was accompanied by a chorus of groans from the rest of you.

“Step one; Kaminari steals a horse from his dad’s farm at exactly 5:15PM, rides it to the outskirts of the village so Sero can hook it up to the carriage. Meanwhile, Mina will assist (y/n) in putting on her gown and help ensure Kirishima puts on his suit and make-up properly. Afterwards, both parties will meet up by the carriage.

Step two; Sero will be coachman for the carriage to take (y/n) and Kirishima to the castle. Take the desired route and you should arrive at the palace by 6PM. 

Step three; Sero will drop off Kirishima and (y/n) then ride back to this base immediately, where Kaminari, Mina and myself will already be waiting. As for (y/n) and Kirishima, they will try to get into the palace and keep a low profile.”

You sighed, aware of how much Bakugo hates to be interrupted during his ‘serious monologue’, and you could tell it was one of those as he used your real names rather than the nicknames he’d given to you like ‘dunceface’ or ‘the pauper’. However, you just had to interject as you were yet to be filled in with some crucial information to your part of the operation.

“Bakugo,” You halted him as he finished his sentence, quickly averting your gaze to the floor as you had a habit of losing your train of thoughts as you looked into his fierce crimson eyes. “How are we supposed to get in? Are there any openings or secret passages you’ve located?” Your eyes widened in excitement at the idea that you could be like a proper assassin; using secret passages, going undercover, dealing with poison and all that good stuff! 

“No.” Bakugo replied bluntly, instantly shooting down any dreams you had of this being a cool mission. “Security on the palace will extremely tight considering this is a royal event. Only people who received an invite from the palace — hence, on the guest list — are allowed in, but I’ve already dealt with that obstacle--”

“You mean I dealt with that obstacle!” Kaminari cut him off with an offended tone before turning to look at you and Kirishima. “I was the one who zapped that messenger raven out of the sky to steal the invitation!” 

“Shut it, moron!” Bakugo barked, slamming his fist against the desk once again to grab everyone’s attention, his palm emitting tiny, and very much illegal, explosions. He slowly shifted his gaze on to you and spoke in an eerily soft tone, “Anyway, you and Kirishima will go under the aliases of ‘Princess Momo Yaoyorozu from the Yaoyorozu isles, and company’. So you will be able to waltz right in there, just don’t act suspicious.”

“How come (y/n) gets a cool, noble name and I am just ‘company’. Also, if my role is unspecified then why do I have to be her father? Can’t I just be her brother or something so I don’t have to wear that silly old-person wig?” Kirishima whined, immediately followed by Bakugo glaring daggers at him. 

“No, idiot, you have to be her father. If you dress as an old man then you’d be more likely to get in close proximity to the King.” Bakugo replied, impatience laced in his voice. He prided himself in coming up with such a logical excuse on the spot when in reality, the reason he wanted Kirishima to dress up as an old man was to guarantee that you don’t fall for him while on this mission. I mean, no matter how ravishing Kirishima was, how could you find him the least bit attractive while he looked like he was on the brink of extinction?

Kirishima grumbled inaudible curses under his breath as he slumped back in his chair defeatedly. Followed by Bakugo trying to resume his lecture but ceasing to do so as the familiar sound of groans erupted from all of you. 

“You’ve been over the last part of the plan, like, ten times already. Just today!” Mina pointed out, folding her arms of her chest and jutting her bottom lip out in disapproval. 

Sero hastily agreed with the girl, “Yeah! Here, I’ll summarise it for you.” Sero snickered before clearing his throat to prepare for his Bakugo impression, “ ‘You guys will sneak poison into the King’s quiche or whatever then I, King Explosion Murder, will come marching in to save the day and reclaim the land by declaring myself the new king! Bow to me, peasants!’ ” 

You and Mina both giggled at Sero’s rather accurate, yet satire, impersonation of the leader himself. While Kaminari and Kirishima both jokingly bowed to Sero, robotically muttering ‘all hail, king explosion murder.’

“Hey! Quit it!” Bakugo bellowed, furrowing his eyebrows as he clasped his hand together and pressed inwards, forcefully repressing his urge to blow up the whole fucking base. “I’m not going to go over the plan again so if one of you dumbasses mess it up tomorrow then you’re getting a boot to the face, got it?” 

“Yes, Lord Explosion Murder.” You all said monotonously in concert.

“You’re all fools!”

»»—————-　♔　—————-««

Step one, two and three had went smoothly. It almost seemed to good to be true.

Kaminari successfully managed to borrow the horses without anyone noticing, Mina did a spectacular job of making Kirishima look like an old man — as well as the skilful embroidery on your dress — and Sero managed to drive you here with all your limbs still intact. 

As for you and Kirishima, you both mastered the role of snobby aristocrats surprisingly fast, considering you both came from extremely deprived families. But it was as if the lifestyle just came naturally to you, hence you were both able to enter the castle without a problem.

However, no amount of acting expertise would allow you to hide the star-struck look which took over your features as you admired the massive Corinthian hall which you had the honour of stepping into. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, providing light along with the pale candles which sat in the alcoves of the walls. The roof was jaw-droppingly high and was expertly painted with detailed images of religious scenes; angels, the virgin mary, jesus, fairies, dragons, everything. 

At the other side of the hall sat none of than the King himself, looking smugly upon the crowds of people that filled his ballroom as he sat upon his extravagant throne, made of gold mined by slaves and welded together by citizens of the kingdom who were currently in poverty, but who the king also claimed to care so deeply about.

Disgusting. Consequent to seeing that evil vermin, your look of awe immediately dropped.

Your eyebrows knitted together as you simply could not avert your gaze from that man and his generally villainous demeanour that everybody just seemed to ignore. With a sigh, you leaned back against a pillar and mused, “Ugh, look at that vile creature just sitting here like he owns the place, just wait until he gets a taste of his own medicine. Right, Kirishima?”

You spoke, spinning your head around to look at your red-haired partner after you received nothing but a muffled ‘huh?’ as an answer. “What do you mea- oh!” you instantly cut yourself off upon realising that who you were spilling your plans to was not Kirishima but rather some dashing young man who was currently stuffing his was with damper bread.

“I- I am so sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else. Erm, uh, I shall take my leave now.” You stuttered, swiftly turning on your heels to bolt off in search of Kirishima but you were stopped in your tracks by the man scarfing the last piece he was holding to offer out his hand to you.

“No need to apologise! I, too, mistook you for someone else. That is why I was eating so gluttonously in your presence, my apologies.” He said, leaning forward into a bow to press a gentle kiss on your chuckles once you gave him your hand.

“I’m Tenya Iida, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”  He spoke, his tone suddenly becoming a lot less formal after he straightened up from his bow while slowly retracting his hand. “And would I be right in assuming that you are Princess Yoayorozu of the Yoayorozu Isles?”

Now that he was standing straight, without a pudding in his hand, you could take a moment to discretely examine him. He stood tall with his shoulders back and his head high to perfectly balance his glasses on the bridge of his nose, everything about his posture screamed ‘royalty’, not to mention his blue undercut which was slicked back into a loose comb-over. As for his outfit, he wore a white shirt along with a royal blue tie which complemented his blazer which was a similar shade, with the kingdom’s crest positioned on the left hand side of his chest. There was also his straight-legged navy trousers, his black derby shoes and his matching designer watch but what really brought the outfit together was his bold, enchanting smile. 

You blinked a few time as it took a moment for that name to register in your mind but once it, you nodded rapidly in response. “Ah, yes, that would be me.” You chirped casually until his name finally clicked in you’re head, “Wait, are you Iida Tenya like- the king’s son Iida Tenya or?” You inquired, trying to act ‘casual’ as if you hadn’t been practising many week preparatory for today but the nervous look in your eyes was unconcealable.

Iida couldn’t help but chuckle at how bewildered you seemed while asking that question, “Well, yes, unfortunately.” He mumbled the last part but it was still said clearly enough for you to hear. “As you are probably aware, today is my coronation. But to say that I’m dreading the crowning is an understatement.”

You quirked an eyebrow at this new information. Well, it wasn’t really knew. The whole of SOIR knew that the formal event was going to the coronation for the new king. Hence, you and Kirishima were made aware that you had two targets to eliminate, but if you had known that the to-be king was such a cutie nice guy then perhaps you would’ve fought his case.

Logically speaking though, for this plan to work, both targets had to be eliminated. It was pointless to only poison the current king, as the crown would already be Tenya’s since the dinner which you planned to spike was going to be served after the crowning. And if you only poisoned Iida, not only would that upset you but the king would simply hand his status over to Tensei, who had been pushed back in the line for the crown due to his impairments after leading and fighting in many wars. 

But, how could you kill Tenya when he was just so...charming?

None the less, somebody had to it. The lives of many citizens were in your hands tonight, as success would lead to improved situations for all. Once the monarchy is gone, there will be nobody stopping you from using your quirks freely! Plus, the royals would no longer hoard all the luxury and wealth of the kingdom, so everybody would be able to lead happy lives, free from financial burdens.

The list goes on but for now, you just had to look that fetching prince right in the eyes and think to yourself, ‘he’s the reason i’m poor’; which was easy to believe considering that the watch adorning his left wrist was probably worth enough to free your whole family from poverty.

It somewhat worked, but not really. The way his honeyed crimson eyes would gaze into your own was enough to make your heart flutter but you mentally reassured yourself that you were most definitely not falling and heart palpitations were just a symptom from your lack of sleep.

“Anyway,” Iida began once more, the tips of his ears heating up as he realised that he had been staring at you for an elongated amount of time. “It has been lovely speaking to you today but it’s about time that I take my leave, duty calls.”  He said, mentally scolding himself for being such a creep and hoping that you paid no mind to his lengthened gaze.

“Ah, alright, I wouldn’t want to keep you any longer than needed.” You sung, awkwardly fidgeting with your fingers as you recalled the ‘manner classes’  Bakugo made you and Kirishima take part in to help you avoid instances like this where you had no clue how to formally end an interaction, with a prince of all people.

It was a long shot but it was your best guess. You swiftly grabbed Iida’s hand, pulled it up to your face and before he had time to react, you planted a kiss on his knuckles — just like had done to you — before bolting off into the sea of aristocrats to go find Kirishima. Leaving Iida standing, blushing more than ever, slightly confused but mostly amused. 

“She’s really something.” He muttered to himself, scratching the side of his neck before hurriedly marching towards the throne, in search of his brother.

Although their interaction was brief, Iida would be lying if he said he wasn’t silently praying that he’d run into the girl again.

»»—————-　♔　—————-««

Step 4 went perfectly. 

‘mingle for exactly 10 minutes until food preparation. Then, (y/n) will use her quirk to sneak into the kitchen while Kirishima distracts anyone that could catch her in the act.’

Bakugo’s gruff voice echoed throughout your head like that of a siren, as you waited for the perfect opportunity to spike the three large, extravagant platters of food laying on the golden trolley which was rumoured to deliver all three of the king’s daily meals. 

At first you thought you had an issue as you had no idea which meal belonged to which person, they all looked almost identical, meaning that you might accidently poison the wrong meal, hence murder Tensei in vain. However, then you recalled a piece of wisdom Bakugo had given you offhandedly once, ‘y’know, there’s a tradition in this kingdom stating that the elders should be served the most salad on the side of a dish — so hand over your cucumbers, bitch!’

So with that in mind, your arm emerged from the shadows once most of the cooks had cleared from the kitchen to tend to other duties, and you dropped some of the poison into the dish with the most salad and the dish with the least to ensure that Tensei got to see the light of tomorrow. 

I mean, you could’ve just poisoned all three to avoid doing all that critical thinking but not only was it risky, you also kind of had a soft spot for Tensei despite the fact he was basically double your age.

Utilising the shadows as your disguise, you stuck out of the kitchen yet you were unable to find a pathway back into the ballroom since there were just so many chefs crowding around the entrance to kitchen. You were sure to get caught if you exited the shadows from there but luckily, there was alternative.

There was a back door of the kitchen which led out into the grand garden, allowing the chefs to waft the smoke out and into the open air, if needed. So through the shadows, you were able to sneak out into the garden without being noticed by a single person. 

Or so you thought.

As you jumped out of the shadows and swiftly turned a corner to look for a route back into the palace, you were greeted by a familiar face that wore an incredibly stunned expression. From behind their glasses, they squinted to try recognise you through the dark night. 

“Oh, Ms Yaoyorozu.” Iida chuckled, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he realised that it was you he had bumped in to during his attempt at ditching his own coronation. Also, since he had just witnessed you doing a rather illicit act. “I’m not sure if you were ever made aware, but quirk usage is very much forbidden in this kingdom.”

You blinked rapidly, surprised at how oddly level-headed he was being about having just watched you sneak out of the kitchen, “Oh-” you choked, looking around to see if anybody else was around but the coast seemed to be clear; well, as far as you could tell, but that wasn’t easy considering the foggy night appeared to fleece everything. “I am so sorry. I was never told about such rules but I’ll be su--”

“Yes, you were.” 

There was a while of silence between the two of you. To say you were taken aback was a understatement, why was he suddenly so confrontational? And why did he say that with such a nasty look in his eyes? Does he know something you do not? Even though you had only met him barely an hour ago, you could still tell that his comment was quite out-of-character. Hence you were hardly able to stammer out a reply, “W-w- um, was I?”

The tip of Iida’s lips twitched upwards as examined your bewildered expression; it brought him infinite amounts of amusement at how ignorant you must’ve thought he was to imagine that he could fall for your silly little ploy. 

“Yes. Well, I mean, Ms Yaoyorozu had knowledge of these laws; the rules of the kingdom were attached to the invite, but you’ve made it rather clear that you’re not Yaoyorozu.”  The words rolled off his tongue, each one sharper than the last; he didn’t plan on calling you out on your impersonation tonight but as his eyes skimmed over the terrified expression on you face, he was immensely glad that he did.

“So, tell me, who are you? Other than a scum-of-the-earth imposter that deserves to rot in slums for the rest of their poor, pathetic life.

You faltered slightly at his threat before blurting out, “Momo’s cousin.”

Iida snorted, but quickly tried to force a serious scowl back onto his features, “Exactly how gullible do you think I am?”

At this point, you were at a loss. The prince stood angry in front of you; meaning that it only took a yell for most of the guards in the palace come marching over to you, before tossing into the dungeon cell which you would have no choice but to call home for the rest of your life.

So if you didn’t act fast and wisely, this could be the last moment of freedom you’ll ever experience.

Throwing away your pride, you dropped to your knees in front of the prince, leaning forward to press your forehead against the shining tops of his derby shoes as you cried, but not loud enough to catch the guard’s attention.

 “Please, your highness! I- I’m just a kid; like you! I swear I wasn’t here to cause trouble, I just--” your pleas were cut off by your own saliva getting temporarily caught in your throat but this gave you the opportunity to conjure up a believable excuse.

“I just--” you repeated, desperately attempting to come up with something until you mindlessly blurted out, “I just wanted to feel like royalty! Please give me another chance!”

Iida eyes widened at this; was it too far-fetched to believe that you created an elaborate plan to sneak into the palace, all for the ‘aesthetic’? Perhaps. But the way your glossy, sorrow-filled eyes looked up at him from the ground made his heart sink to his stomach while a sickly feeling ascended to his throat.

He felt so guilty.

In a moment of panic, he used his power to threaten and frighten a poor girl to the point where she was now begging for life on the paving beneath him. Although you were technically a felon, there seemed to be no malicious intentions behind your crime so why should you be prosecuted for it? Yet Iida still used his status to instil fear into you, solely to feel superior.

Perhaps he is not as different from his father as he once thought; a horrible feeling really, as Tenya despised no one more than that man. Iida wants no association with him or the horrible monocracy established in the kingdom. Which is why he chose to run away from his coronation. He hoped to fake his own kidnapping for a few weeks, then he’d come out of hiding and pray that Tensei had been given the crown instead.

He couldn’t bare seeing you on the dirty ground any longer so he hastily took your hand to assist you in standing back upright, “It’s-- you’re pardoned, just please come with me. This’ll only take a moment.” 

At this point you’d just go along with anything he said, under the assumption that if you disobeyed, you’d be banished. So you trailed behind him, his hand acting as your guide since you could hardly see past the tears which clouded your vision. 

You both approached a white wooden gazebo with a matching pale metal bench, he quickly took a seat and pulled you down next to him, sandwiching your hand in-between his own and caressing the back with his thumb as he waited patiently for you blubbers to die down. 

His lips fell into a frown as he watched you desperately wipe the tears away from under your eyes but smear your expertly applied mascara in the process, “My sincerest apologies; I don’t know what came over me.” He spluttered, harshly biting his bottom lip to silence himself. 

You took deep breaths, hurriedly trying to compose yourself before the prince snapped at you again. So, once the tears had stop brimming in your eyes, you looked at him with a ready expression. However, your faint sniffles, red eyes and smudged make-up didn’t do a good job at reinforcing it.

“Alright,” Iida started, removing one of his hands from yours to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I understa--”

“Are you going to imprison me?”

Iida choked on thin air, his eyes widening at your random — but seemingly genuine — inquiry. “Good heavens, no! Never! What makes you think that?” Was he really that menacing? He was only a prince and he was already using his authority for intimidation. Iida could only imagine how mad with power he’d become if he were to take the crown.

Good thing he wasn’t going to. 

The reality of the situation you were in hit you like a truck as you caught a glimpse of the time from Iida’s designer watch since he had his hand resting upon your knee. You inhaled sharply, doing your best to compose yourself, “Sir-”

“No need to call me ‘sir’, I’m Tenya. Plus, we’re around the same age so ‘sir’ is hardly appropriate.” He chuckled, his lips forming a reassuring smile. In any other case, he’d go by Iida but he didn’t want you to associate him with his father in any sense, even if it was just by surname.

“Oh, how rude of me. I completely forgot to ask, what’s your name? And you have my word that I won’t do anything spiteful with this information.”

“I’m (y/n).” You replied without a second though, before continuing, “Your crowning is supposed to be in 10 minutes, correct? I think you should get going.” You hummed, trying your best to hide how tense and conflicted you were. If Iida doesn’t bugger off right now then he’s gonna miss the ceremony which will lead to a high chance of the event being rescheduled, therefore you’re going to have to act out this plan all over again! How many more messenger ravens does Kaminari need to zap?! 

But on the other hand, there was some part of you that really didn’t want him to leave for some reason; perhaps you enjoyed his company a little more than you’d like to admit. Another part of you said that he doesn’t deserve to die, he’s too nice of a guy; then you remembered the evil, corrupt glint in his eyes as he told you about the fate he wished upon you just a few minutes ago, then you didn’t feel as bad.

Your kind reminder was met by Iida simply shaking his head, “Absolutely not! There is no way I can leave you after I said those horrible things. Plus, it’s not as if I want to be king, anyway.” He mumbled the last part but of course you heard it as his face was only a few inches away from yours.

“Why don’t you want to be king?” 

Iida didn’t even hesitate to reply with the response that had been waiting on the tip of his tongue, “I shan’t participate in the monarchy. I plan on staying in hiding for a week before coming out, hopefully by then Tensei will be crowned king and I will get to lead the army instead.” 

As soon as his plan fell from his lips, his eyes immediately widened. Why was he telling you this?! I mean, now that you knew his plan, once he ‘goes missing’ you could easily tell the king that this was part of his scheme all along, in which case the king wouldn’t crown Tensei and instead send out search parties for Tenya. But then again, why would the king listen to a pauper like you? No offence, it’s just that those who come from a lower social status are less likely to be allowed in the castle, and less likely to meet the king. 

So he reasoned to himself that there was no harm in telling you his plan, but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder why he subconsciously felt comfortable enough to tell you in the first place. I mean, he’s only known you for an evening; surely there’s no why he’s caught feelings this fast, right?

Your heart skipped a beat upon hearing his circumstances, thinking that this was the end of SOIR, but the more you thought about it, you realised that perhaps this was a good thing. 

This meant that — assuming the king eats the meal prepared for him regardless of the ceremony — the king will be dead so the only person you’d have to eliminate was Tensei who was widely known to be more lenient about the rules of the kingdom. I mean, he let his troops take a water-break during battle for goodness’ sake! Assassinating him should be a piece of cake, especially for the SOIR.

Also, this ensures that you won’t have to kill Tenya, which is a thought that made you oddly happy and relieved. 

Sniffling quietly, you rubbed beneath your eyes to further mess up the eyeliner and mascara Mina had done for you. Then you hummed, “Oh, that’s cool, Tenya.”

“And I would like for you to be my bride once I emerge from hiding!” 

You froze, blinking rapidly and inquiring further in hopes that perhaps you misheard him, “Huh? Your what?”

“Bride!” He chirped, scanning the baffled look on your face and figuring that he should elaborate, “See, I think it works in both of our favours; you get to live a somewhat royal life and I get to settle down with someone who my father did not pick out for me. Plus, though I’m no love expert, I can definitely feel something special between the two of us. I hope that’s not just me being a fool. But anyway, I completely understand if you refuse, marriage is a huge commitment.”

Even after he finished explaining, you still sat there staring at him, absolutely flabbergasted that he really just asked you to marry him. Also, quite shocked that there was a scarily large part of you that wanted to accept his offer. 

“Tenya, we literally just met a few hours ago.”

“Six, to be exact.” he corrected you, accompanied by a little shrug as to say ‘who cares?’

“And we are both sixteen.” You continued to rationalise but talking to Iida when he’s dead-set on something was like talking to a brick wall; a brick wall that provided logical arguments, the worst kind of wall.

“The average life expectancy in this kingdom is 35 years of age so if you think about, we’re basically half way through our lives already. Why not settle down?” 

Although, his statements were annoying as hell, the charming smile that decorated his face while he spoke was enough to convince that he was right. Despite the fact those statistics were clearly a sample from the lower class; royalty would obviously live to a much higher age. Plus, he was definitely correct about the special feeling between the two of you, like you have genuinely never felt more endeared by a person’s presence before, especially after they were just wishing hellfire upon you a few minutes ago. six, to be exact

As he sat there and exchanged a longing gaze with you, the voice in your head that wanted you to accept his proposal was getting larger and larger by the second, drowning out the voice that strictly wanted to put an end to his clownery and that voice sounded eerily like bakugo. You’re a woman of logic, and logic says you should accept. Because, if you say no, there’s no turning back and you’ll probably never get another opportunity like this again in your life. But if you say yes, you have two whole weeks to make up your mind as to whether you actually want to marry him or not, and if you don’t, you can always break up with him after he comes out of hiding. Additionally, you’ll be able to go back to the base and confer with the SOIR as to what you should do. Also, you were kinda in love with him, but logic disregards love.

Iida moved his hand from your knee to hold both of your hand in his own while his gaze filled with yearned remained locked onto your eyes, he’s truly never seen anyone more beautiful before. Despite the fact you make-up was ruined, tears were stained to your face and mascara was smeared under your eyes, you still looked ten times more divine than any queen he’s ever seen. 

“So, (y/n), what do you say?”

[percontaion-points]

King’s Men chapter 4

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 4

"If we knew what Andrew had against us, we could try to fight it," Dan said.

JFC, I don't think that three books is enough to cover all of Andrew's psychological issues in the depth that Dan is asking about.

And I say this as a casual psychology hobbyist.

"Feels like we're right back where we started in August," Matt agreed.

"If we knew what Andrew had against us, we could try to fight it," Dan said.

[…]

"I can try. But," he continued, with a glance between them, "someone needs to work on Aaron. Nicky wants to be your friend and Kevin knows the team is stronger as a whole, but Aaron's almost as dead-set against us as Andrew is.”

It's like the second book literally never happened. What was the goddamned point of it even if the second everybody comes back following the winter break, and everybody hit the “character reset” button?

That was one of the things reporters had liked harping about most when Kevin became a permanent fixture at Andrew's side: Kevin was raised at Evermore, surrounded by the best and practically born with a racquet in his hand, whereas Andrew learned Exy while he was locked up in juvie. Neil had a page-long article about it in his notebook. It was crassly titled "The Prince and the Pauper", and its focus was on how doomed their friendship was. The writer thought their attitudes toward Exy too incompatible and their backgrounds too different for them to stay together long.

Imagine getting the assignment of writing about the bromance between two college sports players.

Like looking down at what you'd just finished writing and going “Haha, I got a journalism degree.”

"I'm not a striker by choice, either," he said. "I was a backliner in little leagues. Riko remembers because I scrimmaged with him and Kevin.”

I think the weirdest thing about Neil's personality is just that... it was already established that he played literally one game of exy when he was little, on orders of the mob boss to see if he couldn't turn Neil into an exy puppet, like Kevin and Riko. And then his mom took him and they went on the run.

Like literally one game. But Neil decided to turn this singular game into a goddamned personality trait.

"Exy is the shiny object of your sad little world. You know you're being hunted and you know the hounds are closing in, but you won't let go to save yourself. You once told me you don't understand why a person would actively try to die, but here you are. I guess that was another lie."

I think that the worst goddamned part of this stupid series is how AWARE that it is.

Yet, it makes lines like this constant, about how sports isn't a personality, etc etc... BUT IT DOES NOTHING TO ACTUALLY FIX THE PROBLEMS THAT IT'S HIGHLIGHTING.

At the end of the day, the only thing that this line will be will be a throw-away line. Not a moment for self-reflection, not a reason to want to change, not a warning to the reader not to turn a hobby into your sole personality.

Nope. Just a dumb moment of being too self-aware yet not aware enough to do anything about the problem being highlighted.

“Aaron cut a deal with Andrew at juvie: if Andrew stuck with him until graduation, Aaron would stick with Andrew. No friends, no girlfriends, nothing. Aaron couldn't even socialize with his teammates."

Part of me gets it.

But most of me is just sitting there being “wow. Do you see how shitty and abusive that this is? If he was a boyfriend, we'd all be screaming for the one to get away from such a toxic situation. Why the hell is this somehow different?”

"You were right. They made a promise. Aaron and Andrew, I mean. That's what Aaron told Katelyn, anyway. Aaron cut a deal with Andrew at juvie: if Andrew stuck with him until graduation, Aaron would stick with Andrew. No friends, no girlfriends, nothing. Aaron couldn't even socialize with his teammates."

Neil combed his fingers through his hair and tested the bandage on his cheek. "Aaron would have meant high school graduation. They renewed it when they signed a contract to play here."

"Now Katelyn's in the picture, but Aaron won't fight for her."

Okay... So is Aaron just going to continue to put his life on hold for Andrew's mental illness forever? Literally none of this is remotely healthy.

"This is a joke," Dan said, grabbing Neil's chin. "Neil?"

"He told me to transfer to the Ravens," Neil said. "He said I could finish this year with the Foxes but that I'd move to Edgar Allan this fall. They inked me in preparation and I couldn't stop them. I wanted you to know in case Riko says something about it. I'm still a Fox no matter what he says. I wouldn't sign his papers."

WHY THE FUCK DID THEY NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS. THEY LITERALLY PUT MAKE-UP ON HIM EVERY DAY TO COVER HIS BRUISES.

"You never had any plans to go home for Christmas, did you? That whole mess about your uncle flying to Arizona—you made that up so we wouldn't ask too many questions or wonder why you weren't going to New York with Kevin."

Nothing quite like being a day late and a dollar short.

"Nightmares," Neil echoed. It wasn't the turn he'd thought this conversation would take but he could guess what was tearing Aaron apart. "About November, you mean."

"He doesn't want it to bother him," Katelyn said.

My usual sentiment of “THERAPY?! LOL WHAT'S THAT?!” is way too on the nose with this. Please refer back to the previous chapter commentary for my full opinion on this matter.

He got up and left, and she didn't call after him.

Chapter 4 summary: Some time passes, and Neil is given the approval to continue playing again. After practice, he talks with some of the others over how the team had been together towards the end of the fall semester, but now it's like that never happened.

Back at the dorm, Neil randomly thinks about how Andrew hates exy so much. He thinks about some of Andrew's background, of how he'd been introduced to exy while he was in juvie. Kind of the opposite of Kevin, in Neil's opinion. Andrew and Neil then have a long-ish conversation about what exy means to them, but again, the two of them are kind of polar opposites about the entire thing. Andrew keeps telling Neil not to make the game his singular personality trait, but Neil... doesn't listen. What else is new. Immediately following this, Neil leaves to return to his usual nighly practices with Kevin. Who promptly reminds both Neil as well as the reader that Kevin has exactly one personality trait, and it's exy. (Granted, there is a history of Kevin's abuse, but the book literally never goes into that. Oh no, the only one we gotta talk about is Andrew.)

The next morning, Matt tells Neil that the twins made an agreement when they were in high school to stick together. However, when they signed at the university, they basically renewed their promise. And the short of it is that Andrew is holding Aaron emotionally hostage, as well as the idea of Aaron's future (ie a wife and kids). They're positive that if Andrew found out about Aaron's secret relationship with Katelyn, Andrew would hurt her. Neil decides to play dirty and get them into the same room together to talk it out with Betsy, and Katelyn would be the leverage against Aaron.

Later, the girls randomly find out about Neil's tattoo, despite them being up close and personal with his face because of make-up. They then piece together what Neil actually did over his break, which... again... a day late and a dollar short.

Neil later meets up with Katelyn in the library to rope her in on getting Aaron the help he needs, and to get him out from under the manipulative thumb of his brother. He convinces her to stop being the victim caught in between the Aaron/Andrew situation, but she doesn't exactly give an actual answer right away.

[countryroads]

heyyyyy @factorykingpin thanks for the tag!! i’ve never done this before so thanks for the tag!!!

Movies: warning i don’t watch a lot of tv/movies sooooooooo and also idk if this is stuff that came out this year or just favorites but 🤷🏻‍♀️

pride and prejudice 2005 babey!! i always watch this movie and i’m planning on watching it tonight

barbies princess and the pauper for my zr:tm friends ❤️

loving, vincent

okay genuinely can’t think of any others rip

i watched the star wars movies? idk ❤️

Tv Shows:

avatar the last airbender

killing eve

i used to watch jane the virgin but i don’t think i watched it at all this year

okay i really don’t watch tv lmaoooooo that’s all i can think of

Songs:

okay i’m going to do two lists because i listen to music a lot so all time top 5 songs:

1. first day of my life- bright eyes

2. dear diane - diners

3. real slow- CBMC

4. wasteland, baby! - hozier

5. tango dancer - ghost quartet

top five songs i discovered this year!

1. freight train- elizabeth cotten

2. aerosol ball- the felice brothers (thanks charlie 😘)

3. you make me feel like dancing - leo sayer

4. pleaser- wallows

5. lust for life- girls

Books: i don’t read a ton like i used to but i actually picked up books a few times this year and most of them were comfort books but! anyways

1. the hunger games series. me and my bestie emily reread these together and analyzed them and wowza they are so much better than i remembered and just. great read. there’s so much more to understand when you aren’t 13 lmao

2. le petit prince- i actually read this for my french class but it was honestly a great book with lots of really meaningful quotes to me and will most likely read this again

3. ella enchanted. this is one of my earliest hyperfixations and i reread it all the time and it’s super short but still one of my favs

4. the odyssey by emily wilson was a great read and i’ve really enjoyed seeing the differences in her translation compared to others

5. i started reading inkheart but haven’t finished yet and this was another childhood fav of mine but is still p good so far

Good things that happened:

i had my last ct scan come back post chemotherapy/radiation and i have been cancer free for 18 months which means the chances of a relapse are much much lower than before!! this was a great relief after the past few years ahahahahahhahah

i started running and exercising more and while i’ve taken a bit of a break it was nice to see that it was possible after chemotherapy bc my lungs were all out of whack anyways i ran my first ever mile without walking !!!

i finished my first semester of college and even though i hated online i still am happy with my grades!! definitely could have gone worse

while a lot of things were cancelled for me, because they were cancelled i was able to meet a whole bunch of people i wouldn’t have met otherwise! i’ve ended up very close with of these people and i’m very glad i met them AND i’ve also reconnected with old mutuals who i wouldn’t have otherwise sooooo ❤️❤️❤️

i was able to get better at crocheting and spinning and was able to sell my handmade items this year which is a process i’ve loved and would love to expand on in the future (also new sweater pictures i’ve made coming soon :-))

also crush anon you’ve been a highlight 🥰

anyways it’s been a strange strange year but it’s also had good parts because of the bad so anyways yes i’m rambling

I tag @doebt , @kaoticfive (or anyone from zr:tm) , @toughshera , @mothmansleftasscheek (peak url) and anyone else who wants to!! tag me if you do and also no obligation to the ppl i tagged i prommy i won’t be offended if you don’t

love y’all xoxoxo

[redthreadoffate]

a selection of princesses [tom holland]

a repost, originally posted in my former writing blog

relationship: prince!tom x princess!reader

warning: swearing, none; mistakes here or there

request (anon): hi! would u consider writing about prince!tom holland x princess!reader were tom is the heir to the throne and the reader goes to visit the Hollands at the castle, ends up having some interesting encounters with him and they make out, are all lovey-dovey and fall in love? so tom decides he wants to marry her and not any other princess

notes:  can i just say that i’m glad this is not royal!tom x pauper!reader/rich!tom x poor!reader because THAT TROPE IS OVERUSED IN THIS COUNTRY I LIVE IN IT’S FREAKING EVERYWHERE

summary: prince thomas is to be betrothed, but who is he looking for?

Unlike your older sister, you loved being a princess. You loved being pampered, attending all the balls and parties, eating all the best food, learning from the best professors in the kingdom, riding horses, having archery as your best sport, you loved everything. However, that also meant that, as one of the princesses of the Eastern Kingdom, you were going to be betrothed to one of the princes. And if you were being totally honest, you didn’t mind at all. All the princes were handsome anyway.

But there was one prince that caught your attention. You’ve never spoken to him because he was always under the watch of his guards and you were the life of the party, always being called by one group or another. You’ve talked to all the other princes, except Prince Thomas of the Northern Kingdom.

When you would be alone in your chambers, or anywhere else for that matter, you would tend to daydream about him. How he would act, talk…how he would watch you and listen to you as you entertained him with songs and dances, and maybe even funny stories that you’ve collected as you grew older.

Your sister would scold you for such nonsense. She knew you were going to have a husband from one of the kingdoms so she deemed it wise not to think of just one. She was betrothed to one of the princes in the Western Kingdom. And she hated it She hated being a princess, she would have rather have been a commoner.

“You say that, sister,” you would start whenever she would whine about the whole princess fashion, “but once you have a feel of being a commoner, you would think of the good life you have here.”

In your kingdom, there were only two princesses, you and your sister, and three princes, your older brothers. In the Western Kingdom, there were two princes and one princess. The Southern Kingdom had the most princesses, you can’t even remember how many, but there were three princes. The Northern Kingdom, the kingdom ruling above everyone else, only had one heir, Prince Thomas.

The Creator knew how much she wanted to marry him.

“You don’t even know him yet,” your sister would say. “At least I knew Prince Phillip before we were told that we are to marry.”

You made a face. “The only reason they brought him here is to obviously tell you that you are betrothed. Why else would they bring a prince here?”

But your sister would have none of it. For her, their parents' will was law despite her wishing she wasn’t a princess. “If I can’t beat them, join them,” she would chant. You remember the time she had rebelled and you think of how different things now are with her. “I don’t like being a princess, that I admit, but this is my life. Creator help me.”

Months later, there is word that the High King and High Queen had wanted to betroth their son Prince Thomas. However, unlike most traditional arrangements wherein parents and matchmakers would talk it over, they would invite all the princesses of the kingdom to their castle for a few days.

“That’s odd,” your mother, the Queen of the Eastern Kingdom, said. “I wonder who decided on this.” It was dinner time in the castle and your mother was reading the parchment given by the messenger as you all ate around the table.

“What is it, Dear?” you father, the King, asked, not taking his eyes off the slab of meat on his plate.

“Prince Thomas is to be wed.” Your heart sunk at that. “But instead of the normal arranged marriage, they’re inviting all the princesses from the different kingdoms. The West will go first. Then the South. And finally, us, the East.”

Although this excited you, you still tried to play it cool. “Will sister be coming with us as well?”

“She’s betrothed, Darling,” your mother reminded you. “And your father and I are not going. You’ll be traveling alone.”

“Is that so…” you murmur. And your excitement quickly becomes worry.

Finally, it’s the day of your visit. You have finished packing all your necessities and you climb onto the carriage and wave goodbye to your family. Your sister smirked at you and you discreetly stick out your tongue at her.

The ride to the North was a tiring one. You had fallen asleep numerous times as you moved along. You had stopped for two nights, where you got proper sleep, and continued on during the day. When you reached the Northern Kingdom, you prayed to the Creator that you still looked presentable enough to the High King and High Queen.

When you were led into the throne chamber, you curtsied at the sight of the two rulers. “My King, my Queen. It is an honor to be in your presence.”

“Princess y/n,” the Queen called out. Her voice was soft and light. Very motherly if you were to be asked. “It’s great to finally meet you. You are quite the showstopper, aren’t you, little one?” She smiled knowingly.

You blushed at the comment and tried not to stammer. “I am just doing what any princess should do, your majesty.”

“Aren’t you a lovely girl,” the Queen continued. “I remember seeing your sister. You two look quite different. She’s a beauty as well, but you are another story.”

You turn even redder as you thanked her.

“Thomas will be choosing his wife and you are lucky enough to have no sibling rivalry,” the King said. “But you are still in the pool when we consider the countless other princesses, not to mention the ones in the South.” He chuckled.

Your stomach churns at the possibility of not being picked but you smile anyway. “Being a candidate is a great honor, your majesty. I am happy just being here.”

“Thomas is out hunting now,” the King informed you. “But please, make yourself at home. We’ll call you for supper time.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” You curtsied again before being led out of the throne chamber.

The castle is much bigger than the one in your home. There were also many twists and turns until you reached a corner where a large portrait of a young lady was hung on the wall. The lady was beautiful and you unknowingly touch your own face to compare. “Who is that?” you asked.

“That is the prince’s grandmother. This will be your chamber, princess,” the maid told you. It was on the side of the portrait.  The maid opened the door and you followed. The chamber was just as big as your own and you smile, it really did kind of feel like home. “Would you need anything else, princess?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m okay here. Thank you.” And so she leaves and you’re left alone. You look at the bags and boxes you have. You’ll be living here for two weeks but you’ve packed for two months. Shaking your head, you decide you want to explore first before unpacking.

Slipping out of the door, you begin to walk around, making sure to remember where your chamber was. For about an hour, all you did was take a tour of the humongous castle. You would make sure to keep away from the King and Queen, not wanting to leave the impression that you sneak around.

When you check the time, you realize it was almost time for supper. You look around you for any signs where you should go to get back to your chamber. “Oh no,” you mutter when you realize you have no clue as to where you are. “Fuck. Not good.”

So you take your chances and walk in the hallways you believe looked familiar. After about fifteen minutes, you still haven’t found your chamber. You sighed in despair. “Definitely not good.”

“What’s not good?”

You looked up and felt your heartbeat speed up. “Prince Thomas.”

“Hello, princess y/n. Are you lost?”

You hated to admit but, “Yes. I wanted to explore and I thought I’d be able to remember where my chamber is. This experience has taught me that I’m not good with directions.”

He smiled and your heart leaped. “Which chamber did they give you?”

“The one where there’s this portrait of this beautiful lady, your grandmother.”

“They gave you the chamber across from mine. Come on, I’ll show you the way.” He gestured for you to follow him. “So, princess y/n, how do you find the castle?”

“Bigger than ours,” you replied. “I wonder how you don’t get lost in here.”

“I still do,” he laughed, “so if ever they don’t find me, they know I’m running off looking for new secret passages and shit.”

You’re taken aback by his swearing but you also feel that you’re not alone. “There are secret passages here?”

“Aren’t there in yours?” He turned to look at her.

You look down shyly. “I’ve been taught to be a lady. Perhaps my brothers have discovered some already. I should ask.”

You and Tom walked the distance to your chambers while talking. When you finally reached the familiar corridor, you sighed in relief and hope it isn’t supper yet. “Have you unpacked?” he asked you. When you shake your head he offered to help out. Although you knew a prince shouldn’t be doing this job, you can’t help but ask if he was sure. “Yeah, I don’t have anything important to do. Just let me freshen up, I’m all sticky from hunting.”

You two go your separate ways. As you close the door behind you, you lean back and squealed. Regaining your composure, you quickly begin unpacking, not wanting to seem like you were waiting for him. Minutes later, there was a knock on the door and you let him in.

“I’ll start with this bag,” he told you. You let him be and begin fixing your books on the shelf. That’s when you realize the silence. You turned back and see Prince Thomas staring at the contents inside the bag with a red face. “Princess y/n. I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to touch these.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask. You walk towards him and check the bag. You turn red as well. “I’m so sorry, Prince Thomas. I didn’t know they were in this bag. I’m sorry, I really am.”

He gave a nervous laugh. “It’s okay. I’ll just start with this other bag.”

You zip the bag you’re holding and turn away from him. Whoever placed your ladies undergarments in this bag was going to get it. ‘Calm down, y’/n, they didn’t know.’ You inhale and exhale before setting the bag down.

It’s been a few days since your stay in the castle. You’ve had some interesting encounters with Prince Thomas, or Tom as he preferred to be called, and you, in turn, allowed him to call you by your first name.

And by interesting meaning, after spending time with him every day, you were in the garden and you found yourselves making out. If you two were asked who started it, you wouldn’t know what to answer. And you know what, it didn’t matter to both of you. It wasn’t the best to tell anyone yet about their relationship so, behind the walls, you two would cuddle and trace circles in the palms of each other’s hands, telling one another stories and secrets. Under the table during eating hours, you’d brush your foot on his leg and you could see him turning pink at the gesture.

When it was time for you to go home, that was the only time things went public. How could you two send letters to one another without others knowing?

‘I’ve told them, y/n. I’ve told Mom and Dad about who I want to marry. It’s you. I want to marry you. I don’t want to marry any of the other princesses they asked me to consider before I make a final decision. I love you, y/n. I don’t know if you love me back yet but I will wait. I will wait for your love before we become betrothed.’

He didn’t have to wait long. Your next letter to him told him how you felt. You loved Tom back.

Days after, it was announced that Prince Thomas of the Northern Kingdom, Crown Prince of all Kingdoms, has chosen Princess y/n of the Eastern Kingdom, to be his betrothed.

Everyone celebrated. Parties were held and everyone had admired the engagement ring on your finger. And as people talked to you, as again you are the light and life of the party, you looked back and saw Tom smiling at you.

Finally, you didn’t have to wonder how he would act or how we would talk. Or how we would respond to when you entertained him. “Thank you, Creator,” you murmured before turning back to the group you were with. Unbeknownst to you, Tom murmured the same thing.

[answrs]

Pauper and a Prince (doppler au)

so like. i have literally zero idea on the lore of dopplers in the series so there's probably a million and one things wrong with this but the line in brothebro's All the World I've Seen Before Me Passing By's newest chapter about them being generally benign if a bit fond of mischief, the nilfgardian aligned ones being outliers to the norm, and it somehow brought me to the idea:

jaskier is just 2 or 3 years into his travelings with Geralt when he receives a message from home that his father is dying and he Is Going To come back and Fulfill His Responsibilities, with whatever implications of it not being a request and him having no choice in the matter.

so he makes his way back, attends to the deathbed and wake, and is now morosely being prepped for this new rest of his life he very much Does Not Want, running and attending to the needs of Lettenhove. he knows it's a great life, he appreciates the luxuries of this noble status, knows others would literally kill (and have) for his position, but being on this side of the table at the lavish dinners and social gatherings grates against his very core of being a free spirit and it gets so stifling so fast and he is miserable.

he's escaped to one of the gardens for a moment of peace one night, in what feels like the first time he's been alone in weeks. he notices either someone trying to sneak over the wall to get in, or what looks like a soldier/guard attempting to sneak away with a lumpy bag over their shoulder.

basically it's a doppler that's gotten desperate for food/coin and is in a last ditch attempt to help their adopted family by using their magic to get into the guarded manor where a little missing food here and there won't be as quickly noticed. but now they've been caught by Viscount Julian himself and are terrified they and their family will be tortured or executed or some other horrible fate. except… he's not calling for the guards? or threatening them? or… anything at all really, except offering them some coin and wine and a bit of conversation? what????

they get to talking and, long story short, Jaskier offers them and their family a place in the manor, food and lodging and all, and in return they pretend to be and act as him when Jaskier just can't take it anymore and needs to get away. there are assistants and advisors that would help him do his job anyway, and he'll obviously come back too, not shirk the responsibility altogether. (he'd still help them if they say no, but he won't let this once in a lifetime opportunity go without trying.)

(maybe the fast trust is because they were secret friends when he grew up and after he left the family fell into bad straits? that or jask has just gotten seriously desperate)

long story short, they make a deal and over time it eventually evolves into Jaskier secreting himself away to join Geralt for a few months at a time, then returning home for winters and certain events, probably a couple months here and there too. they keep in touch regularly with either enchanted messenger birds or other more subtle ways, updating the other to events or asking opinions on political decisions, stuff like that. if Julian (the doppler) can't fill Jaskier in well enough on a matter that's come up when he'd been gone they might relieve an advisor for the day and subtly help him with cues, or he just hides out (which he learns is far harder to do when there's staff everywhere and he can no longer fit under furniture so easily as he could as a child) while they finish whatever process they'd been working on before he got back.

Geralt is, of course, Completely Oblivious™ that this is all happening behind him. Jaskier occasionally asks for opinions on "hypothetical scenarios", or has to take off quickly for events he's supposedly been hired at, meanwhile 100% refusing to play in or even be seen near courts within a certain area of the continent. the witcher assumes it's just Jaskier Quirks™, or that the bard had angered some nobleman or another nearby.

and then!!!!!

then of course there's the essential reveal scenario, where they are desperate for supplies and medical care and coin and they have Ciri to protect etc etc etc and Jaskier has to shove away his terror of their negative reactions to his secret coming out and get help from home without destroying the facade.

(so far my fave possible scenario is where they meet Julian outside the city and Jaskier tries to introduce them as his twin that rules in his place, but Geralt senses the doppler and throws himself at the "impostor", thinking they're trying to trick Jaskier into trusting them by pretending to be his sibling. being admonished by a completely unmoved bard when the doppler jumps back and changes form while shrieking like a banshee is hella confusing for the poor man. he gets the real story after that and is absolutely peeved at the deception but also honestly begrudgingly impressed they've kept it hidden so long.)

.

Thinking of calling this some variation of “reverse prince and the pauper doppler au”. Pauper and the Prince? Well, viscount, but y’all know what i mean. doppler!jaskier isn’t exactly accurate (though i absolutely considered them swapping in and out between one travelling with geralt and the other taking care of the city, if only that pesky amulet/witcher senses wouldn’t see through the ruse immediately. unless maybe jaskier was some other flavor of non-human that also set off his amulet and whatever reason geralt doesn’t pay attention to the very small smell differences because perfumes and that elven lute has GOT to have SOME sort of magic signature going on there, but that’s another au. or an au au, idek anymore. i have been trying to post this for 4 days now rippppp)

[carriagelamp]

March 2020 Book Review - Books To Quarantine With

You know, when I talk about wanting more time to read this isn’t REALLY what I was talking about. Anyway, here are some of the books I read this month and/or helped me stay sane during self-isolation

Belle Révolte

Quarantine Queer Reads! This is a book I’ve been excited about for ages, from one an author I love, and is definitely worth picking up if you like high fantasy, complex magical and societal rule systems, and queer ladies leading the charge. This was a bit of a prince and the pauper story, with the wealthy Emilie switching places with the lowborn Annette so that Emilie could run away from her finishing school and study noonday magic necessary to become a physician, and allowing Annette to take her place to study the delicate midnight magics at a wealthy school. Both end up getting embroiled in the societal and martial turmoil of their country. (Also, if you haven’t read it, go back and check out Mask of Shadows, Linsey Miller’s first duology!)

Calvin and Hobbes: Weirdos From Another Planet

Let’s be honest: this has been a stressful time for everyone. I have no idea what my job is going to look like next week, it’s a little terrifying, and sometimes you need something feel-good. So I pulled out my old Calvin and Hobbes books and have been rereading them relentlessly. As a kid, this one was always my favourite, and you know what? You are literally never to old for Calvin comics.

The Witcher: Season Of Storms

Took me some time to decide if this was meant to be read third or last in the Witcher series, but I finally decided to follow the advice to stick to chronology and read it third. I was glad I did! Season of Storms reads like a really really long short story somehow, and it was just a really enjoyable adventure. An entire plot based around Geralt losing his swords is hilarious to me, yet it managed to cram in all the philosophizing and emotion as the other stories so far. It’s a really impressive balance. Also there was lots of Dandelion trying to be helpful and Geralt Having Feelings so how can I not love it? Seriously, the Witcher novels are some of the best “classic high fantasy” novels I have possibly ever read, and they routinely make me incredibly emotional.

Sisters

A Raina Telgemeier book I hadn’t read yet. Like her others, this was a cute, heart warming story, this one focusing on families, siblings, and the importance of connection and bridging differences. I’ll be honest... not a lot of this stuck with me afterwards, I couldn’t tell you much about it now, but it was a very pleasant read at the time and the art in these books is always lovely.

Kristy’s Big Idea

Rather the same as above. It was a retelling of the first Baby-Sitters’ Club book in a graphic novel format. It was fine. I never loved this series as a kid, and I can’t say this adaptation is what made me fall in love with it.

No Fixed Address

A fantastic Canadian novel! This is a story that touches on the child homelessness crisis in Vancouver, and is about a boy who lives with his single mother. When his mother loses her job, they wind up needing to live in a van, as a web of complicated little lies weaves tighter and tighter around them. It isn’t as depressing as it sounds though! The book manages to be very goofy, light-hearted, and funny -- and over all optimistic! So while there were definitely bits that had me crying, it was over all a really enjoyable read. I would recommend, and this coming from someone who normally isn’t super into real-world fiction!

Bleach 7-9

I had taken some more Bleach books out of the library before this all hit, so I had plenty of time to get through them during this quarantine! Have to admit, these later books are a bit more meh than the beginning of the series, in my opinion. I’d never actually read this far into the series as a kid, and I can see why I stopped. It’s a bit more of a run-of-the-mill shonen fighter at this point. But I still love Ichigo and once the libraries reopen I’ll probably continue reading.

Candy Color Paradox

A manga that did not let me down. I absolutely adore this series -- and finding a yaoi series that actually feels like it has a really good, solid, interesting relationship is like finding a needle in a haystack. Since the couple has really already gotten together, there’s not much relationship drama in this book, and it’s more to do with the drama that comes from their jobs as reporters, and honestly it was very refreshing. I’m looking forward to the next book getting translated.

Kiki & Jax

I’d read Marie Kondo’s book, so when I saw that there was a picture book to I had to pick it up and check it out! It’s actually really cute! It’s a charming little way to introduce the importance of cleaning to children that’s a bit more relatable than just “because I told you to”, and provides some of the more practical, useful tips from Kondo’s book presented in a simple, visual format. It was lovely.

F in Exams

This is just a collection of some hilarious test answers. It takes about ten minutes to skim through but made me grin. Some are so clever you feel they should really just be given the point.

Five Nights At Freddy’s: Into the Pit

More FNAF? Yes. Listen, I’m not proud, but I was too curious after that first one not to dig deeper into this (hurr hurr) pit. This one isn’t a part of the same series, and is a much simpler collection of short stories. While Silver Eyes actually managed to be kind of intriguing and suspenseful, this was mostly just... annoying. Like bargain bin twilight zone episodes that vaguely had animatronics slapped into it. A barely dragged myself through it, and it was less than two hundred pages, though in fairness it’s also clearly written for a younger age demographic than Silver Eyes.

Deltora Quest: Special Edition 2 (volumes 5-8)

I’d read the first special edition earlier this year (books 1-4) and finally got around to finishing the series (or at least the first arc of it). Reading it as these big collected volumes is great, because it feels less like tiny little books, and more like chapters within a larger story. Honestly, Deltora Quest remains one of the my favourite series, and it did not become even a little less enjoyable to read as an adult. The characterization of the main characters is fantastic, and this author doesn’t shy away from putting her characters in truly horrifying situations that feel new and intense. Despite the premise being a classic (the characters are seeking the seven stones of the Belt or Deltora) Rodda creates really unique creatures, people, world building, and plot points.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

hi roo !! i just finished reading the prince and the pauper and its easily one of my favorite fics of yours :) i was wondering if thats one youd think of possibly writing some sort follow-up to it one day or is it just a one-shot ?? anyway, i love your fics so much and i hope youre doing well !!

I’d love to do a second part! It will take some time but it would be a dream because I love dark thor and soft loki.

[yumegen746]

INKTOBER3

“The confused look on Antonio's face melted off into a laugh. "You're silly, Feli. A lot different than I remember and you swear more, but I think I like it"

From The Prince and The Pauper by 78meg9/ @bad-friend-trios​

(I forgot to post this, My LORD)

I may or may not be cheating by using color pencils in some of the shading. Anyways, I need to draw something easier since I get home at 9 during Thursdays. So forgive me if I post very late during thursdays.

GHAD, 78meg9. If you are reading this then props to you for making your stories very simple and easy to understand. Like demn, this is one of the first fanfictions I read from you (I think it was because it was bookmarked by another spamano author, yeaa... I think that’s how I found you) and just demn. Never expected the twist at the end, I was shocked tbh. And you even manage to turn a classic story into your own which is sooo cool. I admire your dedication and contribution to this fandom and to this beautiful pairing. We members (new and old) appreciate and love your work. 

(btw, out of all your stories, I love ‘The Reunion’ the most. It got me intrigued, and left me infer about the mystery of the mansion. I couldn’t move on from your work, it’s just that good. Like seriously I was too inspired I have like a lot of digital drafts connected to that fic. I just wasn’t able to finish them due to reasons. imma try to finish them someday tho..)

[jeonsduck]

Prince or Pauper

Prince Part 3

Mako continues to follow you everyday, but you don’t get a chance to see Yuta in person again until the end of midterms. As it turns out, Yuta actually IS a student at your college (international politics major), which is why you first met him in that Starbucks. Now that you have each other’s numbers, Yuta takes advantage of that, texting you to ask what you’re doing or send you selfies to cheer you on during your exams, and you return the favor, much to Yuta’s enjoyment.

The Saturday finally comes when both of you are done with exams and Yuta has freed up that weekend to spend time with you. Like you promised last time, you choose the venue and plan to foot the bill. You had talked with Mako on what you should do. You knew you wanted to take Yuta out to cut loose a little but other experiences with him proved you couldn’t just take him out to a bar with a lot of people. Even if you didn’t know exactly who Yuta was, he was apparently a prominent figure and needed a fair bit of privacy and security. And after talking with Mako (and by extension the rest of the security team, who had taken to calling you Little Boss) you had a plan.

“Karaoke? Isn’t that a bit on the nose?” Yuta asked when you met up. 

Yuta was dressed as casually as you’d ever seen, but also looked suspicous as fuck. An all black ensemble, bucket hat pulled low over his eyes, long hair left unstyled, reflective sunglasses(still Ray Bans) and a mask covering the bottom half of his face. Even the bodyguards looked less suspicious, dressed like business casual salary workers. The plan was that if anyone asks, you were just a company group out to celebrate a succesful quarter with their interns. Anyone who knew who Yuta was wouldn’t expect to see him at a company karaoke party. Well, that was before Yuta showed up looking like Jason Bourne walking through a border checkpoint.

“Yuta you look like you’re trying not to be recognized.” You scolded.

Yuta shrugged, cocking his head to the side.

“That’s the point isn’t it?” he said, and you sighed in tandem with the bodyguards.

“We tried to tell him Little Boss. You look like you’re trying to hard, you’ll still stand out like a sore thumb.” One of them spoke up.

“No one at a karaoke bar is gonna know who I am anyway. And the important part is, I look hot. Right, Y/N?” Yuta says, looking at you for confirmation.

“Yeah uh, sure let’s just go, he’ll be fine.” You say and grab your wallet and keys.

You go out to the cars, this time the SUVs are back. Honestly, you prefer them over the helicopter, but Yuta had said the yacht was best when you asked him. At this point it wasn’t Yuta’s obscene amounts of money that surprised you anymore, but Yuta’s quite obvious forms of flirtation. Or at least, you thought it was fliration. Maybe he was just really nice and it’d been a long time since you’d been on the dating scene. 

The staff at the karaoke bar give Yuta a weird look for his strange outfit but just show your group to the room you booked without saying much else. You take the menu and start ordering food for the group and hand the drinks menu to Yuta. One of the Bodyguards opens the song book and starts programming in songs while the others crowd around to make recommendations.

“Come on buddy. Let’s get wasted.” you say and Yuta accepts the menu with a smirk.

“Challenge accepted.” 

Forty-five minutes later, your little party is in full swing. Mako and a couple of the other bodyguards are crooning a hilarious rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody while you and Yuta cheer them on from the couch. After five rounds of shots, burgers, three cocktails, hot wings, and one beer a piece, both you and Yuta are well on your way to creating an awful hangover for you both tomorrow morning.

Yuta calls one of the bodyguards over and whispered something in his ear.

“Hey, don’t keep secrets from me! That’s mean!” you whine.

Yuta giggles and sways into your space, pressing a finger to your lips to silence you.

“Shhhh, you’ll find out in like, two minutes.” he promises, smiling brightly at you. 

“Yuta. Are you ever gonna tell me who you are?” you ask, settling your hand s on his chest to get some space.

Yuta leans back a bit, thinking about his answer. He shakes his head much to solemnly and looks at you sadly.

“No, you have to figure it out yourself.” he answers.

You sigh and melt further into the couch and stare at the ceiling. Yuta stands up and hands you a microphone. You stare at his hand in confusion for a moment, and then your alcohol brain catches up to what’s going on.

“You waan duet? What song even is it?” You ask, as Yuta helps you pry yourself off of the couch. The bodyguards whoop and holler like they’re trying to hype you up. You giggle, leaning into Yuta for support as the opening notes to Time of My Life from Dirty Dancing start playing. If you were a more emotional drunk, you might have cried. As it was you weren’t an emotional drunk, you proceeded to belt your lungs out with Yuta, staring into each other’s eyes and being overly dramatic the whole way. 

Yuta on the other hand, was turning out to be quite the emotional drunk, and after you sat down, he took your face between both of his hands, squishing your cheeks together while he just stared at you.

“Yuta?”

“Shhhh. I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.” he scolds and you quiet down going still.

“You’re the only real friend I’ve ever had. I care about you. So much. Is that weird?” he asks.

You shake your head as best you can with Yuta still holding your cheeks, “No, it’s fine. I care about you a lot too.”

Yuta smiles, happier than you think you’ve ever seen. And then he slumps forward into your arms, passed out. 

“Uh, Mako?” you call.

He looks over and laughs.

“Shit guys, look. Boss passed out. Let’s wrap it up.” he says.

By the time the bodyguards have collected all the trash and finished their final songs, you’re assed out underneath Yuta and they laugh at the scene the two of you make.

“Let’s just take Little Boss back to Yuta’s apartment, we’ll send them back to the dorms tomorrow.” Mako says and hauls Yuta off of you. 

Both you and Yuta complain, causing another round of chuckles to rise out of the bodyguards. 

Back at Yuta’s apartment they dump both of you on Yuta’s bed to sleep for good.

The next morning is rough. It some aspects its nice. You wake up after Yuta, arms and legs tangled together and your head pillowed on Yuta’s chest. Yuta takes you out for brunch before taking you home. Mako is nice enough to bring the both of you hangover medicine and water.

In other aspects, it's not so nice. Particularly, when Mako swipes open the curtains to blind you and Yuta once you wake up. Or the other bodyguards standing there cooing and taking pictures of the two of you cuddled together. 

In still other aspects, it makes your heart flutter. The way Yuta has apparently been laying there awake for at least fifteen minutes waiting for you to wake up because he didn’t want to disturb you. Or him bundling you up in one of his coats before heading out for brunch, griping about how thin your clothing from last night was. But the best part of that sunny winter morning was when they dropped you back off at the dorms. Yuta quickly leaned over to plant a kiss on your cheek before walking away. You stood there, staring at a spot on the wall until Yuta turned on his heel and came back.

“No, that’s not right…” he mumbles before dragging you forward by the collar of his coat that you’re wearing and kissing you firmly on the lips. 

Your eyes slips closed and you hum happily as Yuta kisses you silly in the hall of your dorm building. He pulls back and nods before turning around and walking away again. After standing shocked in the hallway for a few minutes, you turn and enter your dorm and flop down on your bed staring straight up at the ceiling.

“What the fuck?”

[altissiavibritannia]

Lelouch and the Snaky Pauper Coming Soon!

Heyaz everyone, I decided to do another Code Geass fanfic called Lelouch and the Snaky Pauper. Since my naga oc has the same name and almost looks, I figured to make a story for him. Since I made one for Siritun my vampire/werewolf hybrid naga oc awhile back. It has 5 to 6 chapters on Wattpad as of now. I’ll still work on it and the other ones. But I’ve noticed that I haven’t made a story for poor Prince Lelouch Phantomwing, my other snakeboi oc. Hell I might even start giving away snakebois once I get some designs done and such. So hopefully I can publish it and to work some more on my snake babies. So once I get the first chapter up on Wattpad and have made the cover for it, then I’ll put the link to it on here if any of y’all wanna try reading it. I’ll even doodle LP in the boys or girls school uniform. I might have him act just like Lui, but when exposed as what he really is, he’ll be himself. These two are going to be swapped at birth as a fair warning! Or so how the Mickey Mouse one went...I think or born on the same day??? Whichever! However I do have my first Death Note fanfic out for y’all to read. It’s called Son of Kira!!. So here’s the link to that one if interested in reading it!

Son of Kira!!: 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/206112664-son-of-kira

P.S. My stories on Wattpad are mostly nsfw and defiantly NOT FOR MINORS! So I don’t want to get in trouble for a fucking 17 and younger child reading my shit, unless if the story is kid/tween/teen friendly. My stories are mostly 18+, got it? So no fucking 11 year olds pretending to be old enough!

Anyways back on subject, I’ll be working on my fics while working on my first book and hopefully I can publish it and finish it without working on a new one and leaving it in the collection of unfinished books that ended up biting the dust in the end. So I would be publishing these fics on Furaffinity and DeviantArt. If you have a site that’ll help me out on publishing fanfics of any kind, then drop the links below in a message. Also I don’t do fanfictionDOTnet anymore, cuz I have problems with them and yet I’m sick and tired of random “dating” messages. So if Fanfiction doesn’t fix their site, then I’ll never use them ever again. I may be genderfluid and bi, but that doesn’t and absolutely mean that you get to send me weird ass “dating” mail saying “Oh, I’m looking for a hot guy to sweep me of my feet.” or some other weird ass shit. I’m not Lui himself dammit! Quit pressuring me to date you!!! So please don’t send me anything like that....just please don’t...*shivers in disgust*

Anywho here’s the links to the rest of my fics. I might end up fixing my Fairy Tail Gratsu fanfic that I’ve done years ago on DA later on, once I’m back into it.

Moolouch: 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/186901926-moolouch

Code Geass Siritun of the Rebellion: 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/195685669-code-geass-siritun-of-the-rebellion

Half Breed: 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/155205325-half-breed

Blood in Peonies: 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/165360102-blood-in-peonies

[paperhatcollection]

So... there was a bunch of the princess and the pauper Sanders Sides au on my dash last night, and I ended up thinking of this...

Roman is a nervous, quiet Prince and Heir to the Throne. He’s just a kid, so he can get away with slipping out of his lessons and falter on memorizing the exact number on ships in the harbor or what other ridiculous fact they want him to memorize about his kingdom. He hates the large, empty rooms. He feels lonely surrounded by people who just care about him cause of his parents and his birthright, shy’s away from the upper class kids who are spoiled and snotty and just trying to get him in their friend groups for bragging rights and cause their parents pressured them too.

Virgil is a bright, energetic kid whom is slated to become an apprentice to a couple of seamsters, Joan and Talyn. He carries himself tall for a kid, with a bright smile and brighter eyes. A lot of adults are amused by his personality, but he’s got the maker of a charmer in him and does his best when in front of a crowd. He has dreams of becoming a famous actor one day, potentially even a knight, but had never, not in his wildest dreams, imagined himself becoming royalty. 

Than one day Prince Roman sneaks out of the Royal Garden and explores the forest bordering the castle and separating it from the nearby castle town, where he bumps into Virgil, who was savoring the one of the last days of freedom before he’s expected to start learning his new trade. And the two look exactly alike. They freak out about that for a bit. 

When they calm down, they start talking and swapping stories about their respective lives- and, surprisingly, realize they both have a lot in common. They both have somewhere else they’d rather be in life, for one. The two end up becoming fast friends, and agree to keep meeting each other.

It’s not until the second meeting, while Virgil is talking about packing up so he can move in with the professional sewing people, that Roman gets the idea. Swap places for one day, see if anyone notices. A little prank, something harmless. The two swap clothes, share as much information as they think the other needs, and head back to each others homes. 

Roman finishes packing for Virgil at his foster home, than gets to play outside where he’s allowed to just be by himself and play in the dirt. No one snaps at him at what’s proper, although a few of the locals role their eyes good naturally as he runs around. He runs and trips and picks himself up, and feels embarrassed only for himself and, for once, twenty people don’t come running over at once to fuss over him and make sure he didn’t hurt himself. No one is trying to remind him that the future of the Kingdom is his inevitability responsibility, and he’s just allowed to be himself. He’s just allowed to be... a kid. 

Meanwhile, Virgil gets a first hand peak at the inner walls of the castle, in all its splendor. For once in his life, he’s the star of the show- everyone wants to know, he changes a room just by walking into it. He doesn't get what Roman means by ‘cold rooms’, cause there are plenty of fireplaces and the walls are free of drafts, and all the furniture he uses is comfy and fit for him. He finds himself running his hands down the simple white outfit he’s wearing- just a few silver buttons that are just there for decoration, and a red sash. It feels right, in a way nothing has ever felt before. He wonders if this is what it’s like to wear tailor made clothes, and if he’ll get anything that fits as well once he starts his new job. 

Later that night, the two quietly and quickly swap back before returning home to go to bed, their head filled with all the things they had seen. It was a nice break from their normal life, they thought, something they’d never forget. They were only going to do this once. They were only supposed to do this once. 

They kept doing it. 

Roman learned how to use a needle without stabbing his fingers and how to keep the seams from showing (unless showing them was a stylistic choice). He was a natural learner, and enjoyed the quite repetitive nature of sewing and crafting the fabric into something new. Virgil learned how to properly speak to a crowd, how to speak in a large, echoing room and let his voice carry, could recite from memory how many ships were in the harbor and what were the important trade lines in the Kingdom. They spent longer and longer swapping places, until one day, while in their favorite meeting place just beyond the gates of the garden, they wondered... if they ever really needed to swap back. 

Smash cut to years later. 

Prince Roman is reaching his 18th birthday, and the whole Kingdom is gearing up to celebrate. He is a bright, energetic young man whom is slated to become King one day. He carries himself tall, with a bright smile and brighter eyes. A charmer in a crowded room, confident and daring and everything a Prince should be. He has bright dreams, and an even brighter future. The name Roman feels him with pride- the greatest gift he was ever given, a true dream come true.

Virgil is a soft spoken, quiet sewist (sew and artist) who makes some of the most impressive and sought after ballgowns and suits in the Kingdom. He works in an otherwise humble little shop and has a small group of friends he can trust. He works and lives in quiet, warm rooms making small talk with the other tailors, telling stories and listening to those told in turn. They laugh and gossip and enjoy the quite things in life. The name Virgil rolls of the tongue, a unique name, nothing like the six of seven names the Royal family tosses around from one generation to the next. It’s his name, one he’s chosen, and that’s all he needs. 

One thing you need to know about Royalty- you have the royal family of the resident Kingdom, and the people who marry royalty are their consorts. Consort’s never have a higher rank than the royal member they rank, so when Patton married the King, he only took on the title of Prince. They are not both King’s. That is all. 

Anyways, Prince Patton's heard marvelous things about this little tailor shop, and brings his son along one day to get him a custom made, tailored suit for his coming of age birthday celebration. Roman doesn't recognize the shop until he steps inside. Joan, who was working the front that day, takes one look at Prince Roman and immediately begins low key freaking out. Patton gets curious, and asks to meet this Virgil- their best tailor and apparently someone who looks like Roman. And then Virgil comes out of the back and he and Patton lock eyes, and Patton just gasps softly and covers his mouth. 

Virgil is just thinking, well fuck, this is awkward, when Patton lowers his hands and very softly, in a hopeful voice, asks... “Remus? I... Remus, is that you?”

Then Virgil thinks, oh fuck, I never told Princy about my long lost twin brother. Fuck. 

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 14 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: I think this is the longest chapter yet; there was so much I wanted to see through Kenzie’s eyes here. For those of you who live for tiny details like I do: this is Duncan’s pepper mill. These are his glass coffee mugs. This is his beard oil. This is the dress Kenzie wears on this day. Harris is an Axeman/Danny Huston AU; mostly a Danny AU, as I promise he is not an axe murderer in this universe. I just love Danny and thought he’d make a perfect bodyguard, he’s huge and he will lay hands on anyone who tries to touch Kenzie, amen, Expect him regularly for the rest of this story. Duncan’s grandmother Adelaide is a Fiona Goode/Jessica Lange AU. Here’s WHATEVER LOLA WANTS. Here’s the photo of Carrie I based the one in Kenzie’s bathroom mirror on; her clothing is different, but that’s the expression I imagine she has in it. Golden Pothos look like this and make good indoor plants as they need very-little-to-no sunlight. Nancy Pearlstein’s boutique relish is real, but I took some creative liberties (the back room where Nancy put the rack for Kenzie is made up, and I have no idea what Nancy is like in real life; I made up a personality for her here, though her appearance is genuine) and found the model clothing for Kenzie’s shopping on Neiman Marcus’ website--her comment that Kenzie’s like a little piece of cake I borrowed from a similar line in Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette. This is the dress Duncan and Kenzie ultimately decide on for the dinner with Annette (soon to come); here are the others Kenzie liked the most: 1, 2, 3, and the red one that sends Duncan over the edge (don’t worry, she’ll get a chance to wear it soon): 4.  The way Kenzie hoists herself onto the counter to reach the cabinet is the way I hoist myself onto our counter to reach the extra coffee k-cups at the top of the cabinet. Here are Duncan’s champagne coupes. Kenzie and Claire dancing to Seven Wonders is obviously a nod to Stevie’s iconic music video towards the end of Coven. I wanted to mention that I plan to upload the entire fic to AO3 when it’s finished; Tumblr’s tags algorithm is absolute shit when it comes to fics, and this one continually will not show up under them for whatever godforsaken reason, so I’ve kind of given up on reaching a wider audience for it here, but I also feel strongly that I want it to be done before I put it up there so as not to be influenced too much by other people’s thoughts or desires regarding my story; I love all the feedback I’ve gotten from those of you who are following along, but I do want to stay true to my own objectives. Those of you who continue to shower it with love: I see you. You are absolutely the best. Mackenzie and Annette will finally meet in the next chapter. 

“You should put something up on this wall,” Kenzie said, staring at the blank stretch along the corner where the boxes of her belongings were neatly stacked in Duncan’s room (my room, I can’t believe it yet, my room too), sitting cross-legged on Duncan’s bed (my bed), her back to him. Duncan’s left hand was falling along Kenzie’s back, gently rubbing, feeling the rise of her under the tee-shirt with the tips of his fingers, his face turned down to his phone’s glowing screen in his right.

“We should. You live here now, baby, this is your space too.”

Kenzie swung her legs down and went over to the boxes; she was wearing the Led Zeppelin tee again (mine now, smiling to herself), her damp hair, brushed out, over her shoulder. She leaned down and opened one, looking for the telltale greenery of her little plants and succulents; this box had some of her jewelry boxes and lots of pairs of socks and stockings in it. She moved to the next one, letting out a little delighted “aha!”, pulling out one of her falling sedum morganianum in its little terra cotta pot from the box, cradling it in her hands, standing, gazing down at it happily for a moment.

“I didn’t tell Momby I’m moving in here,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to Duncan, who was propped up against the slats of the headboard with his black pillows between his back and the wall, one of his bare legs outside of the cover up to his thigh, slightly raised, his chest bare and rising slowly, contentedly, damp hair on his forehead. He was still looking down at his slender black iPhone, smiling at something now. He looked up at her, the smile playing there still. So beautiful. Archangel. Hades. My dark Prince.

“It’s fine, baby. You’ll tell her when you feel ready to tell her. I understand. Everything is going to be fine...because we’re together, and that’s what matters.”

Kenzie smiled across the room at him; then she shivered a little, cheeks warm, remembering the flashes of thought she had imagined she heard from him before and during their passionate fucking; If I’m a Prince, you’re a Goddess, and I will go to your temple to lay down all my sorrows and my sins and my fear, and all my devotion...

How could I have heard his thoughts, though, she wondered again. Could that have been me pretending to hear his thoughts? Why would I do that? Why would I call myself a goddess?...are we really hearing each other’s thoughts? How the fuck is that even possible? I can’t even think about this right now, I don’t understand how that could happen...that’s just...impossible.

“What are you looking at, baby?” She asked him, pushing the thought away, stepping to the bed on her bare feet. She set the succulent carefully on the nightstand on her side (my side, my fucking side, my side of the bed, oh my god) of the bed, and Duncan pouted a little at her, his mouth turning down at the corners. “I want one on my side too,” he said, his voice sweet and low and tingling at the back of her head. She leaned down over the bed to kiss him; he lifted his mouth up to her, hand falling into her damp hair; then she picked the succulent up and walked around to his side, setting it carefully next to his smooth alarm clock. “There, no more whining.” He laughed a little, reaching out and brushing the succulent’s spindly, bulbous leaves gently, then lifted the screen of his phone up to her eyes.

Duncan had the Instagram app open on it, and on his profile he’d just posted a photo: oh my god, a photo of me, Kenzie gasped a little, snatching it out of his hands as he continued to grin at her with his perfect teeth, a misbehaving sheen in his blue eyes. Yep, that’s me. Duncan had clearly taken it a moment ago when she’d been looking at her succulent; her head was turned down and her damp hair fell around her face, a little smile around her mouth, her eyes gazing at the plant clutched in her hands, the big Led Zeppelin shirt falling off one of her shoulders, its hem at the middle of her thigh, bare legs stretching down out of the photo. My love @kenzielouwho and our little plant baby, he’d typed, adding the little sprouting green leaf emoji at the end and the double-pink hearts.

“Oh my god, baby,” she breathed, unable to conceal the grin that fell across her face, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth, gazing down at the photo, dazed. He’d posted it only a moment ago; it had already racked up 1,200 likes and hundreds of comments...that she dared not look at. “Everyone is gonna freak the fuck out. Your mom is gonna kill you.”

“I guess I’ll die happy, then,” he answered, and reached for her, grabbing onto the hem of the tee-shirt, pulling her against him, burying his face in the space between her little breasts through the fabric, wrapping his long arms around her. “...I just want everyone to know.” She felt his lips press against her as he murmured the last part into the fabric, his eyes closed, breathing her in, and Kenzie was filled to the brim with a delicate tenderness for him, terrible in its softness, bringing a lump into her throat. “Oh, baby,” she whispered. “I do, too.” They stayed that way for a moment, his arms around her, his face pressed into her body, her hand coming up and falling through his hair, still holding his phone in her other one; I love his hair, I love it so, like the sheen of coppery autumn leaves, the warm, dark embers of a fading fire, the way he smells, like wood and jasmine soap and musky smoke...

After the quiet stretch, Duncan lifted his eyes up to her; they were like the sky after a storm, gray shot with bursts of brilliant blue. “Should we get the rest of your things tomorrow? I can clear my schedule. I don’t want you to go to your apartment alone, bodyguard or no. I want to help.”

“Okay. I’ll email Candice I need to work from home tomorrow. My article’s done anyway. I was thinking we could have Claire over for dinner--I miss her, and I’d love for her to see the penthouse.”

“That sounds perfect.” He let go of her and she slipped his phone back into his large palm, sliding the underside of her hand against his, his eyes flickering over her face. “I already contacted the security detail service, they’re sending someone over here tomorrow morning. If you don’t like them, we’ll find someone else, okay? We’ll find the perfect person. And it’ll only be for a little while, this will calm down soon--I’m sure of it.”

“You making Instagram posts like that isn’t going to calm anyone down anytime soon, babe.” Kenzie grinned, though, feeling the smile dissolve down into her body, making her shiver; she picked her phone up from the nightstand (it was on his side) and opened her email, sending a few lines out to Candice, setting the phone down again, willing herself not to look at Instagram. “...But I do want everyone to know that you’re mine. Prince Duncan Shepherd and his pauper mistress.”

“Kenzie, no. Don’t call yourself that.” His eyes went dark, a frown creasing his beautiful face, a shadow falling across him. “You belong here. You, beside me. This is your world now, too. Everything I have is yours. Anything you want. Everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Kenzie said nothing, suddenly feeling frozen under that gaze; so sure, as definite as the expanse of some ancient wilderness, some high mountain peak, the depth of some unutterable ocean. You truly are my Dark Prince of the Underworld, she thought. You have such depth, a well of hidden light, but you can be terrible, terrible in your beauty, terrible in your resolve, terrible in your determination, and in your will. Like a King. Like a God of Hidden Places, a God of Gold, the God of a Shadowed Realm, your crown heavy, your eyes like blue flames.

“I was telling Madeline something important tonight, Kenzie, while you were in the bathroom.” Duncan planted his feet on the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing the cover off him, bringing his hands down to the edges of the mattress at his sides, looking down at the floor. His gaze floated up, to her feet, her legs, the tee-shirt covering her little body, the incline of her arms, up into her face, her eyes, down the fall of her hair. “I’m going to tell you now, too. My Uncle Bill is sick. He has terminal malignant prostate cancer, and his diagnosis at this time is six months...and that’s with chemo. When he dies, my mother is going to make me her partner in the company; I know she’s going to do this, for absolute certain, regardless of what my Uncle ultimately wants. That means all of my Uncle’s shares pass on to me. 65% of the company will be mine...billions of dollars, ten different major publications, a major television outlet, a foundation pulling in massive revenue, an accredited dance school that will soon expand into four new sectors, a public investment firm, twenty of the largest manufacturing companies in the United States…” Duncan trailed off, and Kenzie realized she’d stopped breathing.

“I plan on consulting with your mother regarding how best to proceed with this new responsibility ethically, Kenzie...and with you. I want to shift the direction and objectives of Shepherd Unlimited. And I plan on attempting to build a bridge, an understanding, between the company and President Underwood. And...I want to buy the Post, the better to protect it...and to protect you.”

“Duncan. Oh, baby. I…I--” Kenzie didn’t realize it, but her hands had come up to her mouth, covering it, her eyes wide and stunned. I knew the Shepherds were rich...I guess I didn’t really understand what that meant, though. Not really. I guess I still don’t, but I’m getting an idea.

“And I want to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Because your joy is my joy, and your happiness is my happiness now, and...only your contentment will make me content. Only your light--”

Kenzie rushed into his arms--she stopped his mouth with an urgent kiss, not being able to bear the quivering edge in his voice. “I am happy, baby, because I found you, I found you, my dearest love--” she whispered this into his mouth, and his eyes closed, and Kenzie felt she could feel the wave of relief that flooded off him, down through her body; a wave like the slow passage of time all at once, the eons of ages condensed into the relief of one moment, and he brought his arms around her and pulled her down to him, tossing her into the bed, and his kisses rained all over her face and her neck and her hair, her eyelids, her cheeks, her mouth.

“I think we should get a mirror for this room,” Duncan whispered into her as he pressed the fervent, warm kisses into her. “I wanna see us when we fuck…you’re so beautiful, I just wanna see every inch of you, I wanna see your face when I’m fucking you from behind--”

Kenzie blushed, biting down hard on her lip, lifting her neck the better to feel his mouth there, sending little pinpricks of sensation up and down her skin. His hands (those hands) were flitting down to her thighs, pressing, hot and so soft, suggesting their desire and promising all they could do to her, I was thinking about that tonight, how did you know, I thought that when I was in your lap and I was forcing your head back and gripping your throat because telling you what to do thrilled me and I wanna do it more and I wanna be your Goddess who you lay down your devotion to, baby, I wanna see us fuck, too-- “Fuck, baby, shhhh, don’t talk that way or you’re gonna make me want you again--”

“I always want you, since I saw you standing on that balcony all I’ve wanted is you, all I can think about is you, you looked like an angel and you are an angel, Kenzie, how did I get so lucky, how am I so blessed to be near you--” Duncan brought one long-fingered hand to the side of her face, into that crook of her jaw and ear, his favorite spot, to hold me. She leaned into his fingers, closing her eyes, overwhelmed by the wildfire in his, the coiled brightness, the depth of him.

“We must have done something really good in the life before this one...or something really hard. Or something...painful. And this...is our reward for all that suffering.” Kenzie’s voice began to drift, to rise and fall--as soon as she’d closed her eyes she realized how tired she was, how sleep was pushing at the corners of her mind; and a wave washed over her, one that wanted nothing more than to sleep in the arms of her lover, held under the shadow of the night--there was a new moon tonight, the new cycle, the new beginning, a new doorway opening--a time of change, auspicious, and our new destiny falling into place, the wind of Fate pushing us on into this new life…

“Baby, let’s go to sleep,” Duncan brought his hand down her arm, to the dip of her waist, his nose pressing into her long golden-brown hair, breathing her in. “Sleep, and no alarms for tomorrow.”

“Yes, please,” Kenzie murmured, and her voice sounded tiny and far-away to her. She felt Duncan get up beside her for a moment, his hands pulling away (“come back, hold me,” she heard herself say, and he replied “I will, baby, I will”) and the lamp on his side of the bed switched off, darkness falling behind her eyelids, and they were bathed in thick shadow, only the vague glow of the city somewhere behind them giving the room any iridescence. Kenzie opened her eyes a little, and could see the outline of Duncan (tall, standing in just his black briefs, hair over his forehead, long arms reaching down), plugging her phone into the charger beside the bed (I’m always forgetting to do that, he’s so thoughtful) and he turned to her, his eyes glowing in the dark, as if they were truly made of blue flames, lighting shadowed places, like Hades on his throne of bones, staring down his dark hall.

“I keep imagining you have flowers in your hair,” he said to her softly, climbing in beside her, pulling the blanket and sheet over them, his hand coming up to tuck strands of hair behind her ear, resting his fingers in that little space again for a moment. Kenzie turned her back to him so she was nestled into the crook of his body, his form, much larger than her, enveloping her like a cocoon, his chest pressed into her, his face coming against her hair, his arm, crooked, coming to the center of her body, his hand reaching between her breasts, possessively. “So many flowers, like a crown, petals drifting down through the waves of it...I keep seeing you that way, and you look so beautiful...Kenzie, I love you...”

“I love you too, Duncan, I love you…” And Kenzie felt herself drift away, her fingers twined through his between her breasts, into the shadow of sleep.

------

Kenzie woke to soft sunlight falling over the bed, and Duncan’s spot empty beside her, her face buried in the pillow, her head foggy with the depth of her sleep. As soon as she lifted it up, though, she could hear soft strains of lo-fi electronic music coming from the kitchen and front room (call your friends, I’ll call mine...we’ll head out for a long ride...sun is coming out now...it all feels right), and smell the savory, dark sweetness of coffee and butter and fat in a frying pan. Kenzie rubbed her eyes--in her dream she’d been leaning over Claire, who was unconscious, on the white floor of some gigantic house. Claire had been choking...and Kenzie had leaned over her and opened her and pulled the piece of food out of her neck that had been choking her. What a strange dream, Kenzie thought, shaking her head back and forth, locks of golden-fawn hair falling over her shoulder. That dream didn’t make any sense. How could I open Claire’s skin that way? Ugh, weird. The dream had already begun to slip away from her, and Kenzie was glad to let it go. The dream had left her with a funny, sour feeling in the back of her throat, and she swallowed, willing the taste away.

Kenzie lifted her legs onto the floor on Duncan’s side of the bed, reaching for her phone, opening her email. Candice had replied; Everything’s all set for your article. Good luck with everything, let me know if you need my help with anything. Ben won’t stop talking about getting an interview with Duncan. Make sure he knows what he’s getting into there!

Kenzie went out of her email, to her text messages; Clairebear. Mom.

Clairebear: Oops, I was so bothered about those BPF links that I forgot to reply to your request to have me for dinner! OF COURSE I WANT TO SEE DUNCAN’S FUCKING PENTHOUSE, what should I bring tonight? How did everything go with your Mom?

Kenzie typed. Bring your beautiful self only!!! You should see how much wine Duncan has, and every bottle is probably worth hundreds of dollars. It’s insane. We’ll order takeout or something, I need to make sure Duncan eats regular human food, not just foie gras and shit like that all the time, and this is a good litmus test (I’m kidding, he loved my chicken and dumplings and ate salmon last night, but still). EVERYTHING WITH MOMBY WENT SO WELL, I honestly can’t believe it, she loved him so fucking much??? She’s ready to marry him herself, I think. She hugged him and they drank each other under the table. Clairebear, it made me so fucking happy.

Kenzie looked at the other text, this one from her mother.

Mom: I love you so much, sweet pea. I’m sorry I doubted you. Duncan is a dream, but you knew that. Your safety and your happiness are at the center of my world. Steel yourself against Annette. I worry she won’t be as easy to convince as I am. Duncan knows her; he’ll know that, too. Be the brave Kenzie I love so well. Love you to the moon and back. Give Duncan a squeeze for me.

I love you too, Momby, so much. I’ll put on my journalist poker face for her. You know the one, Kenzie typed, standing as she did, softly stepping out through the living room to the kitchen, looking up. Duncan was at his slick silver electric stove, gently pushing at two eggs sizzling in a shiny copper frying pan. He heard her; or sensed her, Kenzie wasn’t sure--he glanced over his shoulder, smiling immediately as he met her eyes.

“Good morning, baby,” he said. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mmhmm,” she smiled back at him, clutching her phone. “Weird dreams, though. What time is it?”

“Ten after 9.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I slept so long...Momby was texting me. She said I need to give you a squeeze.” Kenzie padded to him on the balls of her bare feet, wrapping her arms around his back to his stomach, and clenched them. Duncan’s hands were still at the frying pan, but he reached his neck around to bring his face to hers, lips falling into her hair, then to her cheek, then with aching softness to her lips, lingering for a moment, then turning back to the eggs.

“Tell her I said hello, I hope her ride with Samuel went well.”

Kenzie let go of Duncan reluctantly, adding these things to the end of the text, then hitting send. She turned towards the long black obsidian island in the center of the kitchen, glancing up at the diamond-drop chandelier, glinting in the early sunlight, then back down; on the table was a carton of fresh strawberries, two coffees, and two orange juices, and two plates with slabs of crispy turkey bacon, waiting quietly for the eggs he was making. Kenzie reached out and grabbed one of the strawberries, bringing it eagerly to her mouth, biting into it so a stream of juice fell down her chin. Ugh, this is the best strawberry I have ever fucking had, she thought. Everything tastes better lately. Everything looks brighter, more beautiful, music sounds better...Kenzie sat at the island, turning back to look at Duncan at the stove, admiring the fall of his hair in the sunlight, the concentrated look in his blue eyes as he flipped one of the eggs over with a deft flick of his wrist, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

“Claire texted me too, about coming over for dinner later. I can’t wait to see her…what time should I tell her? 7?”

“7 sounds perfect, we should be done with finding your escort and coordinating with the movers by then. I’m looking forward to spending more time with her. I know she’s important to you.  ”

Duncan was still looking down at the eggs, but Kenzie could hear the tender tinge in his voice; the sweetness extending out towards her. He means it. His sweetness takes my breath away. I wonder if the other people in his life see that sweetness, or care about it.

“Thank you for being so wonderful, Duncan.” Kenzie looked up into Duncan’s face as he came around her side, sliding the eggs onto her place deftly, lifting the hot pan carefully away from her. Dark stubble rose along his cheeks; Duncan wore a soft black tee shirt and black sweatpants, and he looked far too beautiful at this early time of day to be real, his hair slightly mussed in sleep but still looking deliberately styled, somehow, his tall form leaning down to kiss her forehead. He smelled like musky sleep and coffee and the smoke from the stovetop and Kenzie wanted to pull his neck into her face and breathe deeply, like he was oxygen.

“Baby...I’d do anything for you. I told you that, and I meant it, and I’ll say it as much as I need to, I’ll do everything I can, until you believe me.” Duncan said this so matter-of-factly, one would think he had been commenting on the weather, the bright May morning, the temperature outside, the driving conditions. He was looking at her, the frying pan still in his hand, a spatula in the other. Kenzie was struck again by an enveloping tide of affection for him; she felt suddenly unable to speak, mistiness coating her eyes as they stared at each other; she grabbed a piece of the turkey bacon instead, lifting it into her mouth, lowering her gaze away from him, too overcome to stare into his piercing blue gaze any longer. It was perfect; just a little bit burnt, just how she liked it.

She could feel Duncan still staring at her for another moment, then he turned back to the stove, cracking two more eggs into the pan with one hand, carefully discarding the shells in his steel sink for now, twisting a smooth, coppery pepper mill that was sitting on the counter beside the stove over the eggs. “The service detail is sending their candidate at 10:30, baby. I know I said this already, but if you don’t like them, we’ll find someone else. We’ll find someone who makes you feel comfortable, no matter what.”

Kenzie shoved the rest of the bacon into her mouth, fighting off the urge to cry. No crying today, Kenz, she scolded herself. Today is good vibes only. “Okay, baby,” she murmured, grasping the handle of her coffee cup (it was made of glass, the most beautiful coffee cup I’ve ever seen, she thought, how did I not notice these cups the first time I drank coffee Duncan made me, that first morning, I was in a daze), sipping carefully at the steaming liquid. “I feel nervous about it.”

“I’m here. Everything is gonna be fine. These people are the best at what they do. The absolute best. They’ve been protecting my mother for decades, her mother before that. My grandmother, Adelaide Shepherd, she was an absolute force of nature, but she needed a detail, too. Once, a man tried to blow her up with a pipe-bomb he’d hidden in his sock.”

“Oh my god, really?”

“Yep. And that was in the ‘60’s, when that sort of thing was less common.”

“Was she okay?”

“Oh, yeah. She refused to cancel any of her schedule that day, so the story as told by my mother goes. And her detail was unharmed, they managed to wrestle the pipe-bomb away from him and throw it out of range of any civilians. And that’s the same service that’s sending someone for you today. They are truly the best...almost uncannily so.”

Duncan came back over to the island, sliding his own eggs onto his plate (done over medium just like mine, that’s such a stupid small little thing but I love that he likes his eggs the same way) and walking back over to the sink to place the scalding pan into it.

“When we go to your apartment, Kenz, there are going to be paps there. They’re going to shout questions at you, and you’re going to want to answer them. I know the feeling. Sometimes I reply when I really shouldn’t. Do whatever you need to to ignore them. I’ll be there right beside you. They want to get a rise out of you, piss you off enough that you’ll say something. Don’t give them the satisfaction.” Duncan had come back around behind her, his arms coming down over her shoulders, his lips pressing into her hair again, his mouth moving against her head. “It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks or says. I love you. Please remember that.”

Kenzie nodded under the pressure of his touch, still feeling too overwhelmed to speak beyond a trembling “I love you too, baby”, stabbing her fork into the eggs. She noticed her phone light up with another text; Mom. Samuel is an angel from the highest heaven, I loved him immediately.  Kenzie smiled widely and held her phone up to Duncan’s eyes so he could see. Duncan grinned. “Absolutely true.”

He sat across from her, pushing one long hand through his hair, picking up a slab of the bacon between two fingers (oh thank god, Kenzie thought, you don’t use a fork for your bacon, because that’s just wrong), ripping it hungrily with his teeth. His eyes came up to her, into hers, around the oval of her face; Kenzie was struck for what felt like the thousandth time by the beauty of his eyes, sapphiric in this light, glittering with depth and emotion. She reached her hand out, almost involuntarily, and Duncan twined his fingers around hers, his expression one of open affection and happiness. I wonder if the other people in his life get to see this Duncan, she wondered again. This open, loving soul. I want to hold it, hold him, with gentle hands.

“I love this. Eating breakfast. With you.” Kenzie bit her lip, the words drifting across the island towards him, over his skin. Duncan was silent for a moment, a little nod cascading down his head. Then he said, “I’m happier than I have ever been in my entire life, here, with you, Kenzie.” And she knew he meant it. She lifted the glass coffee cup to her mouth again, blowing carefully, too speechless to reply, so she sipped again, her eyes lifting up to him over the rim. Duncan had brought his hand to his chin, along the bottom of his lip, glancing back and forth between her and his plate now, and then over to his phone as a text lit up the screen. Kenzie peered. Mom. She couldn’t make out the message.

“Mom wants us to meet her at a bar called Plume tomorrow, around 6,” Duncan said, turning his phone over, not looking at the text. “It’s inside the Jefferson Hotel. Kenzie...Annette can be...very particular about appearances. This is a first impression, so she’s going to be particularly critical of you. You were blessed with a warm mother, but my mother is...a politician and a businesswoman, first and foremost. It’s made her inclined to be cold.”

Kenzie reached for another strawberry, pushing the hair that had fallen into her cheek behind her ear. “Mr. Shepherd, are you saying you need to approve of what I’m wearing?”

“I love your clothes, Kenzie. They’re a part of you, and I can see that. But my Mom doesn’t know you yet. She will judge you immediately, and I just want it to be fairly. I was thinking we could go to the shops after we’re done coordinating with the movers and find you a dress that will satisfy her. And I have my own selfish reasons…” Duncan turned her hand over gently, and dragged a thumb down her palm, suggestively. “I’d love to see you try things on.”

“Normally, Mr. Shepherd, if you were anyone else, I’d tell you to go fuck yourself.”

She could see Duncan trying not to smile, his thumb still pressing into her hand, achingly warm.

“But seeing as I do want to make a good impression on your mother, and you’re suggesting you’re buying me more clothes...if you insist.”

“I do insist, Miss Stone.” He pulled her hand towards him, leaning to her over the island, his energy suddenly hungry, but not for food, longing and intense. Kenzie hovered up for a moment, dipping her mouth down to him, her lips sucking at his bottom lip for the briefest moment, falling away as she leaned back into her seat. He tried to come after her, his head arching into the space where she’d been a moment before, and Kenzie giggled with delight. I could kiss him all fucking day, forever and ever, and he’d still want more. How fucking wonderful is that. Duncan went back to his seat, reluctant, eyes roving down her hair to her bare shoulder peeking from the shirt. Kenzie glanced behind her at the clock over the stovetop. “Oh, fuck, it’s 10 already, we should get dressed, baby.”

“Or I could just watch you get dressed…” Kenzie had jumped up from her seat, a strawberry clenched in her teeth, trying to skirt past him towards the bedroom, but Duncan’s hands grabbed her at the waist and pulled her against him, lips at her neck, and she yelped, hand coming up to the strawberry in her mouth and bringing her hand to his cheek, pressing it into his lips instead. Duncan bit at it and Kenzie brought her mouth against his again, loving the sweet taste of the fruit lingering there, the wetness of his mouth, his hand coming up to cup around her breast, possessive. “Or I could undress you…”

Kenzie twisted out of his arms, (fuck, I love teasing him this way), smiling at him over her shoulder as she slipped away. “I’ll just go to dinner naked, your mom will love that.”

“Fuck, baby…” Duncan stood, his eyes clouding with lust, coming after her as she ran into the bedroom, into the closet, purposefully trapping herself in the corner as he advanced on her; Hades takes Persephone down to the Underworld, she thought; it flickered through her mind, then was gone. Duncan pressed her into the corner, near where his leather jackets hung in a pristine, dark-smelling row, his arms coming down around her waist to her hips (he’s so much taller than me, fuck, I’ll never get over it) and lifted her up into his mouth, his hands coming around the back of her thighs, the shirt riding up so her bare ass pressed to the cold plaster there. “I just want to kiss you all day, all day, baby, I want to go back to bed all day with you and worship you…” His murmurs slipped between his kisses, like smoke around her mind.

“Duncan, we really do need to get dressed,” Kenzie whispered into him, elated, between his lips. “Put me down.”

“No.”

“Do as I say, baby.”

Duncan let out a little whine of protest, but lifted her down with aching softness, so she stood, trapped in his arms in the corner of his walk-in closet, her head barely reaching his shoulder, looking up into his eyes.

“Later. I promise. Later, you can worship me.”

He pressed his head down against hers, hair falling across his forehead, arms holding her with coiled, hungry strength. Kenzie’s heart fluttered wildly between her breasts; that’s all I want too, to stay in bed with you and fall into your eyes and disappear into you, the world to fade away in your arms, my beloved, the only One.

“Okay, baby. Okay.”

--------

Today Kenzie had chosen one of the dresses Duncan had retrieved from her apartment yesterday to wear; I’ll have to move everything into Duncan’s closet later, she thought, slipping the rust-colored, long-sleeve shirt-dress over her head, pulling her hair out of the collar, straightening the skirt, buttoning at the torso. The bodyguard is gonna be here soon. God, I hope they’re not horrible. Duncan was in the bathroom, and she could hear the water running, the soft sounds of him picking things up and putting them back down, using the bottles around the sink. She’d already brushed her teeth, standing next to him as he stared down at his phone, typing rapidly (Annette), his own toothbrush dangling from his mouth, his eyes concentrated. I’m sure he’ll tell me, don’t be nosy, Kenz. She ran the cold water into her hands, sucking some into her mouth, gurgling it, her eyes dancing at him. He glanced up and grinned at her; “you are so cute,” he murmured and she jiggled her eyebrows, cheeks bubbled out from the water swirling in her mouth. She spit into the sink. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. Mom’s angry about the Instagram photo. She’s trying to control the access the media has to...us (me and you, baby). But the sooner everything is out, the sooner it calms down. That’s how it always works. She needs to get used to us and I’m going to do what I can to help speed that along.”

Kenzie couldn’t help but feel little waves of satisfaction; she felt them still as she had slipped on her dress, felt pinpricks of them as she went to the walk-in closet where the Tiffany moon necklace now rested on one of the rising shelves, some of her other necklaces lined carefully beside it (the quartz cluster, the inverted moon choker, memories of the past few days, like the best dreams she’d ever had). She picked it up carefully, unhooking the clasp and closing it around her neck. She gazed down at the moon pendant, fingering it affectionately, then moved to the bathroom; Duncan was rubbing some sort of balm into his jaw, and it smelled wonderful, that woodsy, cedar smell that she was beginning to tie to him so innately. Kenzie was thrilled to see he hadn’t shaved this morning, and the stubble still lined his jaw, darker than yesterday. “I love your stubble,” she said softly, rubbing her kohl pencil under her eyes, just a little, staring at him through the mirror, reaching for the square jar of her perfume, spritzing it around her neck and behind her hair, onto one wrist, rubbing them together.

“I love your perfume. I love your hair and your eyes and your mouth--” Duncan turned to her, reaching for her. She leaned into him, his head falling down against her, eyes closing, arms cradling her. Kenzie looked into the mirror for a moment; her breath caught at the reflection they cast, his much larger, much taller form encompassing her small one, his dark gray high-collared shirt pressing into her rust-colored dress, his dark hair falling into her golden waves, brushed out, falling down her back, his wildly handsome face, almost angelic in this light, leaned against her little one, his full lips next to her slender ones. We look so beautiful together, fuck. He is so beautiful, it makes me want to die right here. My One. My Prince. Beloved. How is he mine.

The bell rang at Duncan’s front door; it was a cadenced chime, a lilt of a doorbell, and it fell over them with a pointed urgency. The world is expecting you. Duncan lifted his head, opened his eyes. “That’s the service.”

“I’ll get it,” Kenzie said, slipping out of his arms, running on bare feet through the bedroom, before he could say anything. She wanted a first impression of this bodyguard without Duncan there; she needed to know how this person would behave around her when he wasn’t around. She stopped, breathless, at the door, pulling it open with a jerk. A handsome, middle-aged white man stood there; he was quite tall, taller than Duncan, Kenzie thought, and broad-shouldered, his eyes bright and sepia, with eyebrows that arched, giving him a mischievous, friendly appearance. His hair was salt-and-peppered, but he wasn’t balding at all, some falling over his forehead, and he wore an immaculate black suit with a crisply pressed white shirt and thin black tie, his long legs extending down to highly polished Oxford shoes; his hands were behind his back, and he towered over her, looking down at her expectantly. The man grinned at her; his smile was wide, open and kind, and Kenzie liked him, instantly. She could see a thin wire extending around the curve of his ear, with a black, rounded end inside his eardrum.

“Thomas Harris, a pleasure. You must be Mackenzie Stone.”

He extended a large hand (he could break my hand off with one jerk, easily, Kenzie thought) and Kenzie slipped her small one into it; his hand was cool, and she could feel the callouses that lined the inside of his palm. This man knows how to hurt someone with his hands, Kenzie knew, immediately. If he has to. But his grip on her was delicate and careful.

“I am. Are you my bodyguard, Mr. Harris?”

The man laughed a little, showing two rows of very straight, very white teeth. “I suppose I am, Miss Stone. I daresay I could easily hoist you over my shoulder and run if need be, also.”

Kenzie grinned. I really like him.

“Most people call me just Harris, Miss. Do you have a preferred title?”

“Mackenzie. Or Kenzie.”

“Very well, Miss Mackenzie.”

“Come in--please.”

Harris stepped through Duncan’s tall doorway, and Kenzie sensed Duncan coming up beside her, his arm snaking around her back for a moment, giving Harris an appraising gaze. He stepped up to the taller man and extended his hand.

“Duncan Shepherd. I heard you were an escort for Adelaide, for a time. Before she passed. I would have been only eight or nine, I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t remember.”

“Oh, Adelaide. A firecracker of a woman. A very fine woman, indeed. I still think of her sometimes...I miss that smile terribly some days.” Harris nodded in deep recognition. “I always thought she was far too great a woman to die. I’m still surprised she isn’t here. Thomas Harris, at your service.” The two men shook hands; Kenzie saw Duncan stretch his fingers as he lowered his hand back to his side, as if to bring feeling back into them. This man is fucking strong.

“Thank you for saying that. I feel lucky to have known her for a short time. There’s another woman in the Shepherd family now, in need of your assistance.” Duncan’s hand came around Kenzie’s arm, his fingers warm and heavy. “It would mean a great deal to me if you would consider this job your most important yet.” Oh my god, in the Shepherd family. Duncan’s phrasing made Kenzie’s heart rebound in her chest, a cool sweat break out at the back of her neck. In the Shepherd family.

“I think I can see why that’s so, Mr. Shepherd.” Harris’ warm gaze fell on Kenzie again, and she smiled at him, shyly. “What a bright soul you are, Miss Stone.”

“Mackenzie, Harris, please. What a lovely thing to say,” she replied, blushing. “I’m so grateful for your help...this is all so new to me and I have to admit, I feel strange about it. It’s comforting to me that you looked after Duncan’s grandmother, though. I wish I could’ve met her.”

“She would have liked you very much, I think, Miss Mackenzie. And it’s perfectly understandable, I think, to feel strange about needing protection in this way. But we live in strange times. I vow to do my utmost to keep you safe. I’ve been doing this job for almost thirty years, and I take great pride in it, if I do say so myself.”

Duncan’s hand was still carefully around Kenzie’s arm; she could feel him gazing at her closely, gauging her reaction to this very tall man who was meant to be her buffer between the outside world and her safety. Kenzie looked up at him, into his storm-colored eyes, and smiled, nodding. He’s good, baby. I like him. I trust him. She hadn’t said it, but somehow felt that Duncan heard her anyway; his face relaxed, and he smiled back at her.

“I understand I’ll be escorting you to work at the Post regularly, and for other activities as you and Mr. Shepherd see fit,” Harris said to Kenzie, looking down at her, attentively; “If you ever feel as though you’d rather do without my presence, I won’t take it harshly--this is your prerogative, of course. I am your escort when you have need of me, and my contract is per-day. Also, I’m required to note that only in the case of a direct threat to your physical safety am I allowed, legally, to use physical force. But I will not hesitate, Miss Mackenzie. You have my word on that.”

Duncan nodded at Harris, gratefully. “Thank you, Harris.” Kenzie bit her lip; a direct threat to your physical safety. She had to admit, the idea of having someone trailing after her constantly was unnerving, but at the same time, the idea of someone protecting her from any unwanted attention was an attractive one. Being a woman is often so scary, and nobody is gonna fuck with me with this gigantic dude next to me, I can’t deny that. And obviously; Duncan couldn’t always be with her. Not that I want that...being away from him makes me miss him, and I like that, too. Those reporters scared the shit out of me, and it would be nice to use the front entrance of my work again. Go with it, Kenzie. Fate is trying to give you a sign again. If this man looked after Duncan’s grandmother, he’ll look after you, too.

“Harris, do you need anything? Water? A coffee?” Kenzie said, moving toward Duncan’s espresso machine.

“Thank you, Miss Mackenzie, but no. I’ll wait for you outside. I see I’ve interrupted your breakfast. I look forward to this partnership, and hope my service to you, Miss Mackenzie, will be satisfactory.” Harris glanced down at the island in Duncan’s (our) kitchen, still littered with the plates and glass coffee cups and orange juice glasses. Then he nodded to them, smartly, and stepped out, the door snapping shut with a clean sound behind him.

Kenzie went to the mat by the door where she’d discarded her shoes last night (running to Momby), picking up one of the brown leather Reagan boots and pulling it onto her foot, then the other one. She felt Duncan come up behind her, his soft hands enveloping the middle of her waist, the incline of her abdomen. “I love him already, baby,” she said, righting herself, turning in his arms. “I didn’t know he was going to be one of the bodyguards your grandmother had.”

“I didn’t know either, honestly, until the detail service texted me this morning. It makes me feel so much better, especially after having met him. God, I feel so relieved.” Kenzie wrapped her arms around Duncan’s neck as he spoke into her, consumed with the tenderness that floated into his eyes as he pressed the incline of his nose and lips into her forehead, picking her up just a little, so her feet lifted off the floor and dangled in midair. “Let’s go get your other things, okay?”

“Yes,” she breathed into him. “Yes, baby, yes, I’m so happy, I’ve never been so happy--” and he spun her around in his arms and pressed his face into her neck and she could feel his smile there, feel the heat coming off his body in a wave that felt like summer sunlight.

------

Harris had sat in the front passenger seat of the BMW, next to Samuel; the two men seemed to hit it off instantly, grinning at each other and delving immediately into a mutually interested conversation about their pasts as escorts, drivers, and military servicemen. “Army,” Harris had said to Samuel as soon as he sidled in next to the Nigerian. “I bet my life on it.” “Right you are, sir, in my native Nigeria, that is. And you are Navy.” How they could tell these things about each other Kenzie had no idea, but their exchange made her smile widely; I love Samuel so much, and if he loves Harris, I know I can trust him. Duncan grasped her hand loosely, languidly, his thumb trailing down the dip of her index finger, into the crook of her skin; he was looking down at his phone, his eyes dark.

“Baby, what is it?” The partition floated up; they were alone, shielded from the eyes of Duncan’s chauffeur and Kenzie’s bodyguard.

“Someone took pictures of us last night at the restaurant,” he said, holding up the open Instagram app on his sleek black iPhone. “I guess...I’m used to people taking pictures of me, but I don’t like them taking pictures of you and Madeline that way.” Kenzie looked down at his phone; the shot was the three of them at their corner table at Busboys last night, a side-view, Madeline holding her Jack and Coke and gazing at Duncan with a bemused expression, Duncan saying something animatedly, Kenzie gazing at him with a small smirk.

“You have to admit, this is a nice picture, baby,” Kenzie said, looking up at him. I love this photo, she thought. I love him and Momby talking together this way. I love them both so much.

“It is. I had a wonderful time with you and your mother last night. I’m so glad she...I’m so glad she likes me.” Duncan’s eyes went into hers, soft, and Kenzie was overcome with the need to hold him, clutch his face in her hands. She gripped his hand, and he held hers tightly in turn. “Of course she does, baby. You’re lovely, and I love you, and I knew she would.”

“I’m sorry right now, Kenzie, if my mother isn’t as lovely to you. Please know, Mackenzie, how much I love you.” Duncan leaned over the seat to her as the BMW travelled towards Dupont Circle; his hand fell down to the moon necklace at her throat, his fingers trailing down its circular diamonds, down between the space of her breasts, to her waist, down the pleats of her long skirt, the lift of her thigh and the space behind her knee. He gripped her at that juncture; he pulled her legs softly into his lap, and Kenzie’s skin broke out into goosebumps at the force of the his gesture, the subservience and desire of it. The car was smooth, low strains of Sarah Vaughan floating through the speakers today (whatever Lola wants, Lola gets, and little man, little Lola wants you...I always get what I aim for, and your heart and soul is what I came for); Kenzie reached into the pocket at the side of her dress, pulling her phone out, opening the Instagram app as Duncan gazed at her in open lust, his hand falling up and down her smooth calf, lazily. The icons at the bottom of the tool bar flashed: 20562 new followers, thousands of new comments and mentions. She went to her most recent post, the one of she’d taken in the office in her moment of abandon, her eyes downcast, fingers on the moon necklace she now truly held her fingers against. He gave me the moon on a string. Over 15,000 likes. And now all of you know he’s mine. Kenzie raised her eyes to Duncan; his hand was on his jaw, thoughtful, pensive, his eyes unwavering from her. Somehow she knew he was thinking about putting a mirror in the bedroom again; a mirror and a hook extending from the ceiling, a hook to extend that long black velvet ribbon from, to tie her up again...

Nope, this is never getting old.

------

As Samuel pulled up to Kenzie’s apartment building, her eyes went wide with disbelief. A huge crowd of paparazzi were milling around outside the buzzer-locked entrance; there were at least ten different cameras and dozens of reporters with microphones and recorders, and they had clearly noticed the BMW coming down the drive; several of the microphones turned eagerly; a crowd of people rushed towards the car.

“Kenzie, stay calm, baby, be calm,” Duncan said to her quietly. She had pulled her legs off his lap immediately, her heart catapulting into her mouth, her phone forgotten, her eyes going wide, clutching his arm. “Duncan, fuck, what the fuck,” she breathed. “How are this many people here, holy fuck, holy fuck.” The partition rolled down. “Miss Mackenzie, I’m going to get out first and check the perimeter, and then I’ll give a nod; an okay to proceed. Is that acceptable?” Harris looked over his shoulder at her through the window, his sepia-toned eyes waiting for her go-ahead. Duncan clutched her hand softly, staring at her; you’re in charge, baby, you got this. Be calm. Kenzie took a deep, shuddering breath, staring out the window at the reporters pressed against the BMW; “okay, Harris, okay,” she said, and he opened the door; reporters immediately started to shout questions to him, “Are you with Duncan Shepherd and Mackenzie Stone? Is this Miss Stone’s current residence? Are you aware of the ongoing relationship between Shepherd and Stone? What is your relation to Miss Stone?” Kenzie noticed Harris ignored them as though they weren’t even speaking to him; his eyes scouted the sidewalk sharply, through the crowd pressing towards them, and then he nodded at the window. Time to move.

“Come on, baby, I got you,” Duncan gripped her hand, looking into her eyes; his were clouded, dark, but determined, and Kenzie felt suddenly full of determination, too; fuck all of you, she thought. Fuck you people, let me in my apartment. “Ready,” she breathed, grabbing the handle of the little black convertible bag she’d picked out a few days before, having switched to it from her Margaux satchel before they left the penthouse earlier. Ready as I’ll ever be.

Duncan opened the door, Harris standing near it, his back to the reporters as a buffer; Duncan exited the car, standing straight; the paps immediately swarmed around him, shouting, though they didn’t get too close; Harris gave one man a particularly dark look when he tried to shove a microphone under Duncan’s chin (Kenzie watched, worried, as Duncan’s head came back a little, involuntarily, his expression dazed for just a moment), and the man scurried back. Duncan leaned down, reaching a steady hand out to Kenzie where she still sat in the BMW’s backseat; Kenzie grasped his hand with tight fingers, and let him help her out of the car, their eyes locked; trust me, she knew he was thinking. “Trust me,” he mouthed, and she bit her lip, and nodded. The shouted questions around the car suddenly reached a crashing crescendo as Kenzie stepped onto the sidewalk beside him, Harris shielding her from behind; Kenzie felt as though she could no longer make out phrases, just words; “MISS STONE, DUNCAN, MISS STONE, MR. SHEPHERD, MACKENZIE STONE, YOUR RELATIONSHIP--DATING--SHEPHERD UNLIMITED--POLITICAL OPPONENTS--RESIDENCE--A STATEMENT--” and the clashing of a dozen cameras clicking at once.

“Come on,” Duncan said into her ear, and he pulled her hand gently but firmly towards the building entrance. Kenzie could feel Harris’ forearm gently pushing into her shoulder blades, his tall form hovering behind her, protecting her from the back. Kenzie couldn’t help it; she looked down at the sidewalk, her head pounding with the noise, an overwhelming nausea washing over her; a sudden claustrophobia set in as the reporters closed in around them, still shouting. “Jesus, step the fuck back,” she heard Duncan say, his voice clipped and demanding, and he pulled her through the flapping suit jackets of several reporters who had gotten unnervingly close; they dispersed as Harris came through, his arms coming up as a shield around Kenzie’s body. Then, mercifully, they were inside her apartment building; several men were standing inside the doorway, each wearing a polo shirt with Moving Unlimited sewn into the breast. Duncan nodded at them, while Kenzie stared out the glass window, dazed, at the reporters and camerapeople, still snapping pictures of her. Is all of this really for me? Harris stood at the door they’d just entered, holding it shut as paps crowded against it, attempting to get inside.

Duncan pulled the keys Kenzie had given him days ago from his pocket; the silver crescent moon charm glinted at her as he turned it in the door, snapping it open, and she suddenly felt grateful at his speed; her keys were still buried somewhere at the bottom of her bag, and she noticed her hands were shaking badly. Duncan pulled her gently, still grasping her hand tightly, into the hallway; the movers came behind her, and Harris followed them, carefully checking the door was securely shut behind them.

Duncan was at her door now; the gold moon she kept hung there was winking at her. Strange times, Kenz. He used the second silver key, this one slightly smaller, to unlock her apartment door; “Come on, baby, we’re here,” he said into her ear, softly. Kenzie stepped into her apartment (my little, shitty apartment); there were empty spots here and there where Duncan had gotten her things yesterday, her plants along the windowsill gone (now sitting in Duncan’s bedroom; they’ll go on his windowsill now, our windowsill), about half of her clothing gone off the standing rack against the wall (now hanging in a neat row beside Duncan’s--our--bed). Kenzie looked around, still feeling dazed. There was a stack of unbuilt boxes on the floor next to the front door, left from the day before. Her bed lay undisturbed, though; Kenzie remembered in a wave how she and Duncan had fucked on it after he came to her so breathlessly, after that long day, such a long day, seeing Momby, telling her; the last time she’d slept in it. What a wonderful night to be my last in this bed.

“I just remembered my lease doesn’t turn over until August,” she said aloud, as if to herself, her voice quiet, sounding like it belonged to someone else.

“That’s not important, baby, I’ll have our lawyers talk to your landlord. We’ll pay off whatever you owe for the rest of the lease.”

“Duncan, I--”

“Kenzie, please let me do that. It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

Duncan looked at her; his eyes were warm, soothing, open. She met his gaze for a moment, then looked behind him. The movers and Harris still stood in the hallway; the movers looked bored and impatient, but Harris was calm and collected, looking carefully back at the doorway where several paps had now gone inside the entranceway. He said something quietly, as if to himself, and Kenzie couldn’t make it out; then, she remembered the thin wire extending into his ear. He seemed like a lion to Kenzie; a lion, or a giant leopard, the predator, not the prey, not concerned about his place on the food chain. She had no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to remove someone from her path, as he’d said to her so calmly. The paps had parted for him like he was Moses parting the Red Sea.

“All you need to do, baby, is tell them how you want them to pack up your things. Then we can go and they’ll take everything to the penthouse.” Duncan spoke to her carefully. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”

“Yes, please,” Kenzie said in a small voice. She breathed in, deeply, and sat on the edge of her constellation bedspread. I can’t believe all of that was because of me.

“I think it would be best if we left from a back entrance, Mr Shepherd,” Harris said to him from the doorway. “There are too many people for me to properly cover Miss Stone on the way out. I’ve called for backup; they can act as a distraction if need be until we can get her back into the vehicle.”

“That sounds fine, Harris. Kenzie, is there a back entrance?”

“Y-yes. Down the hallway, another right. There’s a patio area and a gate to the side-street.”

“Very good, Miss Mackenzie. I’ll go check the perimeter.” Harris moved down the hallway briskly, his Oxford shoes quiet on the carpet. Kenzie breathed out as Duncan handed her the peony glass, half full of water. Kenzie swallowed a mouthful, reaching for his hand; he wrapped it around her fingers, and the warmth of his touch filled the pit of her stomach with a blooming flower of calm. “Baby, everything is going to be fine. I promise.” His expression was so tender; it made her cheeks hot, her lip tremble. She handed him the glass back with a shaking hand; he grasped it, his hand steady, brushing her fingers, his hair falling over his forehead as he looked down at her, patient, calm.

“Let me get something,” Kenzie said, standing, letting go of him, moving into her tiny bathroom, pushing aside the long lunar tapestry that covered the doorway. Duncan didn’t follow her; he seemed to sense that she needed a moment alone. She moved against the sink, grasping the edge tightly to steady herself; stared for a long moment at the photo of Momby, when she was young, that was tucked into the mirror; the one of her in the bell-sleeves and very short cut-off shorts and flat sandals, leaning against a brick wall, smiling at something or someone unknown to the side of the unknown cameraman, her body and face in profile, her teeth visible, her eyes sparkling, her hair falling around her shoulders and forehead. I need to keep this safe, Kenzie thought, and tucked it carefully into the little black bag at her hip. She breathed again, once, twice, three times, staring at her tiny bathroom, thinking of Duncan’s huge one, so pristine and beautiful and big, with its marble countertop and silver-gilded mirror, the clawfoot bathtub (full of roses), the shower where they’d fucked that morning after, where last night they’d held each other so tenderly. Your new bathroom, Kenz. No more balancing your speaker on the toilet. She went to the corner where she had a small shelf with toiletries stacked in its cloth drawers beneath the tiny window; on top of it was a Golden Pothos plant, its leaves climbing down around the legs of the shelf, growing wildly. “You need a bigger pot, baby,” she whispered to it, and picked it up, gently, bringing her face down to it, pressing her nose into it for a moment. Then, Kenzie turned; Kenzie, you are brave, and you can do this, you can be this brave person, this fearless person, you can pretend she is you, that you are golden, you can see yourself the way you know Duncan sees you, because you can see into his heart, somehow, you can see into his thoughts, somehow, and you know he believes in you--you know he thinks you are golden, and so you must believe in yourself, believe you are golden, too, and make it so. You have to, Kenzie. You have to be her now. You have to believe you are her. Only you can bring her to life.

Kenzie looked down at her Golden Pothos again, pressing one foot against the other; circling her foot out, pointing it from front to back. Then, gripping the plant in her arms still, she moved out of the bathroom, pushing the tapestry aside with her shoulder.

“Okay,” she said, looking up at Duncan, who had sat quietly at her little round, wooden dining table, his hand against his chin; that telltale sign of his concern. He met her gaze, and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

------

It was about an hour later when Duncan and Kenzie moved quietly through the gated backyard of her apartment complex; Kenzie still held the Golden Pothos tenderly in her arms; Duncan had offered to carry it, but she shook her head. “I want to hold it, I need to hold it right now.” He’d nodded, his hand trailing gently down her arm, protectively. The movers had almost finished packing everything into neat boxes (her clothes were kept on the rack, but they’d tucked vinyl sheeting around it, covering it from prying pap eyes as they pushed it into the moving truck on the curb--several cops and other men in dark suits had arrived about fifteen minutes after Harris had placed his discreet backup call, and they were keeping the paps quarantined a few yards from the entrance of the building); Kenzie had insisted on lifting her wind chimes down with a chair and tucking them, inside her constellation bedspread, carefully into one of them herself; she placed a few of her other plants that had been left behind yesterday on top of the spread to cushion them. Duncan had personally, carefully carried the box into the truck, writing HANDLE WITH EXTREME CARE on the side with a sharpie, ignoring the paps who shouted at him (even when one of them called out “how’s Annette feeling about you fucking Madeline Stone’s daughter, Duncan?”). Kenzie was having her furniture moved into Momby’s storage unit in Arlington, though she wondered, absently, if she’d indeed ever end up using any of it again; Duncan’s things are so much nicer, why would we use mine? She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness; it’s not that I even love my furniture. The change is just...so abrupt. My life changing so quickly, so utterly. It feels so soon, and yet, it feels like the right thing. It feels like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. It feels like the new moon. Duncan was right; this is our destiny. But nobody told me finding your destiny would feel so strange.

Samuel was idling the BMW on the back stretch of the side-street, and Harris was closely behind Kenzie again, his eyes, hawk-like, scanning the backyard for any stray prying eyes. Duncan held her arm, gently, pulling the rear door open, gripping her carefully as she leaned down into the seat, the plant still clutched in her arms; Duncan slid in beside her and and Harris shut the door behind him with a firm click from the sidewalk, moving quickly to the front seat and shutting the door as he scanned the area again; he spoke low, pressing the earpiece, as he settled into the passenger seat, and Samuel accelerated, the BMW quietly leaving the curb and turning toward Georgetown. “Samuel, drop us off at relish, in Cady’s Alley, thank you,” Duncan said, reaching for Kenzie’s hand; he pressed the button for the partition. He turned to her as the privacy of the backseat enveloped them. “Baby, Kenzie, are you alright? Can I do anything?”

Kenzie turned to look at him; oh, Duncan, I love you so. His eyes had that same tender expression as when he’d handed her the water glass, the clarity of their blue like a clear sky; she felt as though she could somehow sense the drifting color of his emotions, seeping out of him and enveloping her like an embrace, golden and bronze and delicately soft, sunlight and warm sand. “I’m okay, baby. I’m going to miss my apartment. It’s the first place I ever lived alone; I lived there for three years. And I’m going to miss living so close to Emissary...I’m okay. But I am a little sad. Just a little.”

“Do you want to cry? It’s okay if you want to cry, baby.”

Kenzie shook her head, biting her lip, clutching the Pothos.

“No. I don’t want to. Kiss me, okay? Duncan. Kiss me.” She turned her head up to him and he was smiling and his lips fell on hers and his hand came around hers where they clutched the terra cotta and he felt so warm and he felt golden and in his embrace Kenzie thought I don’t want to cry, I want to laugh; you make me feel golden, I told myself I am that girl you see inside me, and I feel her there and I know she’s there, I know she’s in me, and you’re bringing her out, bringing me to myself, in you I’ve seen the reflection of my own self, and in me the reflection of you.

-----

Duncan stepped out of the BMW, reaching for Kenzie’s hand, where Samuel had pulled up in front of the stony facade of the boutique; Kenzie gazed up at it, curious. She still held the Golden Pothos in her arms; Duncan reached down to her arms, gently pulling it away from her. “Is it okay if Samuel takes this back to the penthouse, baby? You know you can trust him.”

“Yes,” Kenzie breathed. If only this dazed feeling would fade; this feeling that I’m suddenly in someone else’s story. Harris was getting out of the passenger seat, buttoning his suit jacket, his hawkish sepia eyes scanning the area carefully again. I doubt he ever misses a thing, Kenzie thought. I wonder if he ever deviates from being extremely calm. Samuel leaned down from the driver’s seat to peer at her. “I will protect this small creature with my life, Miss Mackenzie,” he said as Duncan tucked the potted plant into the seat Harris had just vacated, pulling the seatbelt around its wide pot with measured gentleness. “Thank you, Samuel,” Kenzie replied, her voice sounding small in her ears. “Can you give it a little water when you get back?” “Of course, Miss Mackenzie.” Duncan shut the door and Samuel pulled away; “I’ll text him when we’re done,” Duncan said down to her, his hand finding the small of her back, his long fingers pressing gently down to the incline of her hip. Kenzie nodded up to him and grasped his hand as he pulled her into the shop; its interior was very cool and very quiet, the walls calming white with wooden dais raised here and there, shoes and accessories carefully and meticulously arranged, minimal racks against the walls, some clothing displayed on mannequins, red summer dresses and black pea coats and crisp white blouses. Harris hung back by the door as Duncan pulled her further into the shop, his eyes lighting on a woman approaching them, and he smiled at her, brilliantly.

“Nancy, how are you? It’s wonderful to see you.”

“Duncan, darling, I’m well, and you--you look wonderful, god, absolutely luminous.” The woman was middle-aged with an open, makeup-free face, round glasses perched on her nose, frizzy curls falling around her face, her smile genuine and unpretentious. She wore a long tartan skirt that fell to her ankles in navy and gray, and a mock neck top, darker navy, with pointed sleeves that went to her elbow. A golden-yellow argyle scarf was tied around her neck. She stopped in front of them, reaching out to Duncan, pressing her cheek against his, for a moment. “You smell lovely, as to be expected.” She turned to Kenzie, her expression friendly and curious. “And you must be Mackenzie. Madeline and I have brushed shoulders at parties in the past, but I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting you, my dear. I’m Nancy Pearlstein. Duncan tells me you’re meeting Annette tomorrow and need to look a part she’ll be...gentle with.”

Kenzie felt heat seep into her cheeks, and smiled a little. ”It’s nice to meet you.”

“What a doll,” Nancy said, eyes falling down Kenzie’s small form, from her strawberry-gold hair to the pleated dress, lingering on the moon pendant for a moment, then to her dark brown leather boots, glancing at Duncan approvingly, then back to her. “You make quite the striking couple, it’s no wonder the media is losing its collective mind; and you, my dear, you’re like a little piece of cake. We must give you the proper frosting. Come.”

Nancy led them up a smooth staircase of wooden slats; around more displays, tasteful racks, and mannequins on the second floor, and through a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY around a corner. Here there was a wide white room, painted similarly to the rest of the store, warm light streaming in from two high windows against the far wall facing them, some empty mannequin stands in one corner and a curtain pulled over the opposite one as a makeshift dressing room, with a mirror so long against the wall to their left it reminded Kenzie of one in a dance studio; to one side of the mirror there stretched another long clothing rack, this one stocked with at least twenty different dresses of varying colors and styles.

“So, I brought together some pieces I think would suit you based on the pictures of you Duncan sent me. If you don’t like them, we can find more. Take your time. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything at all.” Nancy nodded back and forth between Duncan and Kenzie, her smile clearly delighted at the two of them; she pressed two fingers to her lips, as if lost in a private thought, then left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Duncan turned to her, smiling. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“She is. You know so many lovely people, baby.”

“She and my mother have been friends since high school. Nancy helped her dress for her first TV appearance, back in the late 80’s. Her store has been here for over twenty years. She’s the best...baby, try something on for me?” Duncan stepped close to her, his arms snaking around Kenzie’s waist, his face coming down to the side of her face, lips trailing down her neck. “I wanna see you in every single one of these. Please?”

Ugh, baby, you’re so gorgeous, you smell so fucking good, Kenzie thought, unable to stop her eyes from closing as he pressed into her, his much larger form enveloping hers in an achingly strong embrace, his hair against her mouth, its woodsy smell making her heart fall into her stomach and fly back into her mouth. I want your hands down between my legs where they belong. As if he heard her, Duncan moved one long-fingered hand over her thigh, but Kenzie pulled away, teasingly, before he could reach down further, her lips hovering achingly close to his for a moment, eliciting a moan from him that reverberated against her, his desire palpable in the quiet of the early afternoon.

“Sit down, baby,” she commanded, and his gaze was heavy with lust for a moment as he stood very still, almost touching her but not quite, his hand hovering up, fingers extended towards her. Then, he turned to where some folding chairs were stacked against the wall; he pulled one with ease over to the center of the room, opening it with a snap, setting it firmly down, and sitting, crossing one leg against the other in a lazy, low crook, hands settling into his lap, his eyes steady on her.

Kenzie turned her back to him, setting her convertible bag on the floor; she went up to the rack lined beside the mirror, and began to push through the dresses carefully, mentally selecting five or six she liked immediately, and a handful of others that struck her for one reason or another. She lifted one up to Duncan; it was black tweed with tiny, tasteful sequins and a boat-style neck, and sleeves to the middle of the lower arm with slit cuffs. “This seems like an Annette Shepherd dress to me,” she said, and he nodded, his eyes shifting over it with a confident look.

“It is. I think that might be the one. Try it on?”

“I will. Be patient, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Yes, Miss Stone.” She felt his eyes on her back, falling down her wavy hair (golden and soft as silk) along her hips and over her ass (thinking about your beauty last night, baby, fucking you with that plug, fucking you, tied up, my come dripping down your leg, riding me so hard into that oblivious ecstasy…) and Kenzie blew her breath out, trying to calm her racing nerves, am I imagining this again, or is that really what he’s thinking, but pushed it away from her mind, trying to clear it. She opened the makeshift curtain, and stepped behind it, easing her dress off over her head, slipping the first of the dresses Nancy had picked for her on; it was black and tiny, hem high on her thigh, with two dual strips of fabric that covered her breasts. A va-va voom dress, as Momby would call it. He wants a show, so I’m going to give him one.

“What do you think,” Kenzie said coyly, pushing the curtain aside. She twirled as Duncan’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward, eagerly, her gold hair tossing over her shoulder.

“We are definitely going home with that one, angel.”

Kenzie grinned and stepped up to him, leaning down, pressing her mouth eagerly down onto his, standing between his legs; Duncan tried to put his hands around her, but she pulled away before he could. “I’m busy, baby,” she said, turning her head up, swinging her hips as she walked away from him. “You need to wait.”

“Ughhh, Kenzie, baby…”

“Shhhh.” Kenzie pushed the curtain closed again, her nerves thrilling under her skin. This was fun. When she opened it again, she was wearing a long-sleeved crewneck black dress with white lines around the waist and through the flaring skirt. More of an autumn dress than summer, she thought, but definitely something I’d wear.

“I like this one,” she said. Duncan smiled and nodded. “As many as you want, baby. I think my Mom would like that one, too.” Kenzie made a little face and went back behind the curtain. She tried on several other dresses; one that was a tawny color that didn’t seem to fit her correctly around the shoulders (not this one) and another, a black mini-dress with flowers embroidered along either side. “I love that one,” Duncan said, his eyes flickering over her little breasts, the curve of waist, and the incline of her thighs in its form-fitting confines. “I love you in flowers.”

“I like this one too. It’s summery. But maybe not right for dinner with your mother.”

“Still, if you like it, we’re getting it.”

Kenzie smiled at him; fuck, baby, this is so much fun. His hand was on his jaw, trailing along his bottom lip, and his eyes glittered at her, full of affection and adoration. Just look at me, baby, she thought. Just look at me like that always and I’ll never be sad again.

Kenzie opened the curtain again a minute later; this dress made Duncan’s eyes widen and his mouth fell open, his hands coming out, resting on his knees with urgency.

“Fuck, baby, fuck me,” he whispered. The dress was long, lacy and red, with a fitted bodice and two tiny straps over her shoulders; the lace was transparent around her legs, exposing her skin, extending up to a very short flesh-colored slip around her hips, the neckline low, her back exposed, her hair brushing against her shoulder blades as she turned around for him, heart beating against the moon pendant around her neck. Kenzie smiled at him over her shoulder; I want you so fucking bad, baby, his thoughts seemed to drift towards her again, his eyes roving up and down her body, hungrily, achingly; I want you right now, I want your clit in my mouth, I want your neck under my fingers, your hair against my skin, your mouth against mine. Goddess, angel, my Kenzie, most divine--

Kenzie moved up to him, close, between his legs again, and this time, she let him press his hands into the lace around her, let him press his mouth, achingly soft, into the skin just above where the moon pendant lay against her. “Kenzie, I want you so bad, baby, you’re so beautiful, so fucking beautiful--”

“We can’t, baby, not right here--” but her mouth was opening to him and he was pressing one of his beautiful hands between her thighs, pulling her into his lap, fingers flitting under the hem of her underwear into the wetness spreading from the gathering heat there and she arched into his hand, their tongues coming against each other, and his thumb brushed up and down along her clit, making her shudder; Duncan worked his index finger up, rubbing it into her, the hardness at his crotch grinding up into the emptiness between her legs, and he said “I can make you come, though,” and he brought his finger down to the moisture at her cunt and brought it up to her clit, soaked in her arousal now, and he bit softly into her neck, once, twice, three times as he ground all of his concentrated devotion into her and she arched on his lap and he said “Kenzie, baby, fuck, I love you--” and she shuddered into his hand, her release abrupt and achingly hard and dizzying, and he brought his other hand up to her mouth and she stifled the scream of her orgasm into it, lips wet and kissing his palm.

“We are definitely getting this dress,” he murmured into her ear as she gasped against him, coming back down to earth.

Kenzie stood, wobbling a little; she could feel the wetness stuck against her panties now, and Duncan slid his finger away, still glistening with her; he pulled a tissue from his pocket, wiping her release onto it from his hand, bringing it to his nose for a moment (oh my god, baby) and tucking it back into his pocket. “Bad, bad baby,” she whispered as he grasped her hips to steady her. “Bad boy.”

“Uh huh,” Duncan said, flashing his beautiful smile at her, burying his face against her bare skin again. “I need to be punished, I guess.”

Kenzie gazed at him; he looked up into her face (blue like summer seas), mouth pressed into her with open devotion, wanton need. “Oh, you do, do you?” Kenzie whispered.

“I think so. If you want to. I think I’d like that. I think I’d like it if you tied me up.”

Oh my god, fuck yes. A shiver ran down Kenzie’s spine, cool air touching her bare shoulders in the red dress. “Okay, baby. I will. But you need to be patient.”

Duncan let go of her, but his eyes glittered still, and his smile was suggestive, a promise of things to come. “Okay, baby. I’ll be patient.”

“Good boy.” Kenzie stepped away from him, back to the curtain.

------

Kenzie tried on several other dresses, but the one they decided on for dinner with Annette was the first one Kenzie had laid eyes on; the black tweed with tiny sequins, a dress that looked like it belonged on the body of a Congresswoman having a tasteful lunch at a bistro. It’s not really a Kenzie dress, Mackenzie thought, but I’m terrified of this dinner tomorrow, and every little bit helps. I just hope she isn’t planning on dressing me all the time. Kenzie remembered the appointment she was supposed to go to with Annette on Saturday morning, to fit a dress for the Gala. Yep, 100% dreading that. In the end, they left Nancy’s boutique with five of the dresses that she’d hung on the rack for Kenzie; the tiny black one with the plunging neckline, the one with flowers embroidered along the sides, the black dress with white stripes, the lacy red dress that he made me come in with just his hands, Kenzie thought, good thing we didn’t get anything on it, her cunt twinging as Duncan grasped her fingers at the counter, and the dress she would wear to their dinner at Plume tomorrow. Kenzie dared not even look at the bill; she turned away from the register as Nancy and Duncan conversed pleasantly and nonchalantly, Nancy slipping them into vinyl hanging bags, wheeling a rack around to take to the BMW, Samuel already having driven back around to pick them up, Harris watching carefully from inside the doorway of the boutique, his expression relaxed and neutral. I guess thirty years of being a bodyguard makes you extremely patient. Kenzie felt dizzy and tired again; I can’t wait to see Claire, she thought. Claire always makes me feel like myself again, and I want her and Duncan to like each other so much.

“Sweet Mackenzie, it was lovely to meet you, I’m so glad I could help with this.” Nancy pushed the wheeled rack towards them and Duncan grasped it from her, carefully.

“Thank you for everything, Nancy,” Kenzie replied, blushing, remembering Duncan’s hands between her legs in the room upstairs, a short while ago. He looked at her, his smile sly, a promise to her that he was thinking about the same thing. Harris came up and pulled at the other end of the rack, bringing it out the door, carefully pressing the vinyl bags into the trunk of the BMW; he opened the door for Kenzie, smiling at her.

“Today has been so long,” Kenzie said, looking up at his friendly face, “But meeting you has made it wonderful. I’m so grateful…” She grasped the large man’s calloused hand for a moment as Duncan watched them from the opposite side of the car before he got in, his blue eyes full of affection as they fell over her gesture.

“Miss Mackenzie, I am grateful to have a charge who is so lovely in every way. The pleasure is mine. Today is one of many where I will be faithfully at your side. I look forward to this partnership.”

Kenzie slid into the seat, and Harris closed it behind her. Duncan laid a hand on her thigh, his face falling down to his iPhone for a moment, and Kenzie closed her eyes, tiredness washing over her; when she opened her eyes again, Kenzie noticed he’d had it raised up in front of her and was lowering it now, smiling at it. “Oh no, Duncan,” she murmured, “did you take another picture of me?”

Duncan bit his lip. “You looked so lovely.” He held it up to her; he’d already posted it on his profile. In the photo, Kenzie’s eyes were closed and her face was serene, the late afternoon sunlight falling over her cheek, the moon pendant glittering at her neck, golden waves thrown down her shoulders, a little pout at her mouth. “Oh no, ugh,” Kenzie complained. “Blackmail.” Sleepy angel. With the beating pink heart and ZZZ emojis. 800 likes and it’d only been seconds. “Fuck, people do not waste time on your photos, baby,” she murmured. But Kenzie felt too tired to care. Let them look. Her eyes drifted closed again, and her head fell onto Duncan’s shoulder, though she didn’t realize it; Kenzie felt the soft brush of Duncan’s lips in her hair, then she remembered nothing until the pulled up in front of the high-rise a few minutes later, the setting sun streaming against its glistening surface, Duncan shaking her awake, gently, his fingers on her cheek.

-----

“Let’s just get takeout for dinner,” Duncan said, and Kenzie grinned at him. Oh, thank god, you are an actual human being. “Ugh, yes, baby, definitely.” She was standing in the bedroom, surrounded by boxes, bringing her plants out one by one; Kenzie was still in the long-sleeved pleated dress, but her feet were bare, and Duncan had peeked his head into the room from where he’d been typing at his Macbook on the coffee table, deeply immersed in emails. “I’ve been dying for Chinese food, do you people eat that?”

“You people,” Duncan mimicked, making a face. “Are my horns showing again?”

“Yep, they’re glorious and terrifying. But I know I can defeat you with tickles.”

Duncan laughed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She wiggled her fingers at him and he disappeared from the doorway in faux terror. “Oh, wouldn’t I, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Please tell me Claire likes eggrolls, because I’m ordering like, at least ten.”

“Of course Claire likes eggrolls, she’s not a monster.”

“What a relief.” Duncan appeared in the doorway again, throwing his phone lazily onto the bed; he gathered her up in his arms. “I love those little plants you put in the kitchen, it looks like you now, like you and me, together. I love it so much, baby.”

“Mmhmm,” Kenzie sighed into him; when Duncan held her, it seemed as though every ache, every drop of tiredness floated away from her; I feel alive in his arms. Truly alive. She kissed him; “I love kissing you,” he said into her mouth, their lips parting then meeting again, and she nodded up into him as he lifted her, his body enveloping her, his hands at the back of her neck, the dip under her arm, threading through her hair. “I know today was a long day for you--you were so wonderful, so kind and lovely, and you always are--”

“Not always, baby,” she whispered into him. “I’m human too, I can be a cruel mistress.”

“But I’m yours, and I will forgive you every time.” His words fell against her and Kenzie felt her heart shake; she was struck again by the heavy hand of Fate, merciful, having brought them together. Please be with us tomorrow, I beg of you, for I am fucking terrified of Annette Shepherd. She went to speak; but the doorbell chimed again, for the second time that day.

“Claire!”

Kenzie ran to the door, jerking it open, and throwing herself into the arms of her Clairebear, Claire’s blonde shag bouncing back and her mouth shrieking into Kenzie’s ear as they hugged each other tightly. “Oh my god, I’ve missed you, bitch!” Claire pulled Kenzie back to look at her, then wrapped her arm around the back of Kenzie’s neck, tightly, squeezing her again. Kenzie dragged her inside the penthouse, grinning so widely she worried her face would split. Duncan came up behind her and Claire yanked him into a hug. “Get used to this, Duncan, I’m a hugger.”

“I could use more hugs, so that’s fine.” Duncan put his arm around Claire’s back, smiling at Kenzie over her shoulder.

Claire patted his cheek, pulling back. “I brought some really fucking good weed from Colorado.”

“Fuck yes!” Kenzie hopped up and down, her bare feet bouncing against the smooth marble kitchen floor. “Get this, Claire, Duncan eats Chinese food, I’m so fucking relieved.”

“What am I, a science experiment?” Duncan was smiling, though. “What kind of wine do you like, Claire?”

“Pfft, every kind, what kind of question is that, honey.”

“Every kind it is, then,” Duncan went into the fridge (it belongs in the future with the toaster, Kenzie thought), and brought out a bottle of vintage Moet, opening it deftly, the satisfying pop of the cork reverberating off the crystal-drop chandelier. “Champagne glasses?” She asked him, her eyes falling into his with desire. 

“Right side cabinet, top shelf, but how are you gonna reach them, baby?” 

“I have my ways.” Kenzie hoisted herself up onto the counter so she was kneeling on its smooth black surface, and she reached up carefully, bringing down three beautiful Waterford champagne coupes. “A lifetime of shortness has made me crafty.”

“Kenz, be careful.”

Claire was watching them with bright eyes; Kenzie looked back at her, and Claire shook her head. “You two are so stinkin’ cute, it’s pretty disgusting.”

Kenzie lept down from the counter and brought the glasses over to the island. Duncan poured the icy champagne into the first glass, cordially handing it to Claire; she smiled, delighted. He handed the next one to Kenzie, fingers lingering on her skin; and lastly, poured one for himself.

“To all the happiness in the days to come,” he said, his eyes shining at her, raising his coupe.

“To your mother not murdering me tomorrow,” she countered.

“To this fucking great weed we’re about to smoke,” Claire added, and clinked her glass against them both.

After they’d shared a bowl, Kenzie had dragged Claire from room to room, watching her friend’s face with delight as Claire gasped at Duncan’s rooms, at The Youth of Bacchus, at the wall-long window gazing down on the city, 30 stories down and a mile away; our rooms, she corrected herself, our apartment, my apartment, my penthouse, god, so fucking weird, but get used to it, Kenz, he’s yours and so is this, so is all of this. The weed crashed through her in a wave, down the base of her skull into the pit of her body and through her limbs, and the champagne was the best she’d ever tasted, heady and bittersweet and high. Music drifted from the overhead speakers, a hard drumbeat with a playful guitar twining around it (looking out for love, in the night so still / oh I’ll build you a kingdom, in that house on the hill); Claire stared at the window in awe, coupe clutched in her hand, and Duncan was stretched out on the low leather couch, Kenzie leaning against his feet and the crook of his bent knees, her hair falling down his thighs into his crotch; Duncan’s hands fell through it, his eyes fascinated and mesmerized.

“This is the most amazing place, Duncan,” Claire said, turning back to them. “Like, wow, the energy here is special.”

“It’s because Kenzie’s here now,” Duncan replied, matter-of-factly. “She’s the gold.”

“The gold?”

“Yes. Kenzie is gold.”

Kenzie laughed a little. “You’re high, baby.”

“So what. You’re still gold, angel. Gold forever, gold divine, gold of mine...”

Another song drifted from the speakers; strains of electronic chimes, ethereal and full of magic. So long ago, certain place, certain time…

“You touched my hand, all the wayyyy, all the way down to Emmeline--” Kenzie clear voice burst out into song towards Claire, and Claire grinned.

“But if our paths never cross, well you know, I’m sorry, but--”

Kenzie jumped up, Duncan’s hands slipping out of her hair, grabbing Claire’s hand (Claire set the Waterford coupe down carefully beside Dike’s scales, laughing, “Kenzie, jesus, watch out!”), whirling her around as the music pumped out of Duncan’s speakers, and he gazed at her, a serenely happy expression in his eyes as the light faded and the city came up through the window. If I live to see the Seven Wonders, I’ll make a path to the rainbow’s end, I’ll never live to match the beauty again, the rainbow’s end...