#because most of the non-smut-related ideas I have get worked into my longer fics anyway

[prince-liest]

hope you're having a great day! saw your posting about radiostatic week and was curious if you're planning to write for all the prompts or just the ones that really scratch your brain?

That actually wasn't for radiostatic week! Unfortunately none of the prompts for that week caught my eye, plus I learned about it relatively short notice. After being in approximately thirty fucktillion (read: more like three or four dozen) zines and getting sick of the process, I've actually made a rule for myself to not write things for scheduled events if it runs a risk of turning the writing-of into a chore for me, haha. But I have written a little radiostatic something for both prompts of Day 2 of Hellaverse Kink Week, and the piece I'm contemplating writing, if I do write it, will be more radiostatic for the "dirty talk" prompt of Day 4 of Bottom Alastor Week. If I'm motivated to finish the appledust sequel in time, that'll be for Day 6 of the Hellaverse Kink Week as well!

I really like the kink week prompts! They feel, like, very much in the spirit of properly kinky prompt selections!

All of that said, I'm really fucking excited to get fed next week when radiostatic week actually runs, hahaha. I know @spoondrifts has some GOOD SHIT cooking for what might be literally every single fucking day of it?? Absolutely wild, I cannot WAIT.

[lumilasi]

I saw this in my feed and since I was pretty bored and FINALLY free from the said boredom, figured I could do this one. I generally enjoy question based tags, especially if they relate to art/writing/fandom/are some general things about favorite colors, music, foods, things about your home country etc.

(basically, you can tag me in stuff similar to listed above things and I’ll probably do them if I see them/have time lmao)

Fic Writer Questions!

How many works do you have on AO3? 

44 total. I used to have more but I’ve deleted an old Bleach one I knew I’d never continue to write, and two bnha ones for the same reason (those two were also at the very beginning stages so nobody missed a lot anyway)

What's your total AO3 wordcount? 

4 269 068......wow. It’s even MORE than I even imagined. Over 4 million words. 

....Someone take my writing tools away from me lmao

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

 Three. I started with MCU, moved on to Bleach and now I’ve done most ofr BNHA

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 

Crossroads - 3069 

Family Secrets - 3015 

Reanimate - 1534 

The neighbor - 809 

Espada and Fraccion - 782

.....Admittedly this list surprised me. Not the first three but the last two. The fifth is an one shot for Bleach that I wrote AGES ago. I also for some reason expected this list to match the bookmark list more lmao

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I always try to respond to every comment I get, but often times when it’s just one word or a heart emoji I don’t really know what to say, so I might not reply to those. I do appreciate every comment I get, and read every single one, even if I don’t respond

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? 

I don’t do angst endings typically, but Family Secrets is probs the most obvious choice, given what happens at the end. 

- and its not even the real end, because I couldn’t help myself and made two more stories for the AU that was like “hey! this character I made you all love so much actually DIDN’T die, he just had unfinished business back home” lmao

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you've ever written? 

Rarely, typically they’re between my own fics (the story that crosses the paths of Crossroads and Family Secrets AU’s, literally titled Crossover, creative name I know OTL I was out of ideas) 

Or between me and other people’s fics. Currently there’s two, both with Crossroads: one with Theteapotofdoom’s fic Something Good, and another with leontheneon’s fic Here with you. Both stories are basically a two part series that is non canon to actual Crossroads. The first story is finished, second one has two chapters left...that...I uh...struggle to write it seems OTL

(not tagging either person into this because Tea is very busy IRL right now so I don’t want to bother her, and Leon hasn’t been around in ages, IDK if they even use tumblr anymore)

Have you ever received hate on a fic? 

Not really no? I can only remember one time with somebody kind of demanding me to completely rewrite one fic in the past. It wasn’t really hate, more just...kinda unreasonable in my eyes? This was years ago by now.

While I did understand their side and the particular struggle they had (once they actually explained it, the first comment at the time came off pretty rude and demanding), I still feel them wanting me to re-write an entire multi-chapter fic just for them is a bit unreasonable, like said.

Like it wasn’t just couple of grammatical errors that was their issue, we’re talking weeks and even months long process of completely reworking multi-chapter story, because the grammar wasn’t tip top perfect. (I’m not a native speaker so there’s bound to be some mistakes; pointing out small occasional things is one thing - asking me to rewrite an entire multi-chapter story is another)

You can imagine that is not exactly high on my priorities list with IRL responsibilities and being more focused on the actual content of what I write, the ongoing stories I’m updating. This fic isn’t even finished yet either, so...yeah. Like after they explained their side of the story I was a bit more understanding, but its still....a bit ridiculous and unreasonable in my eyes to ask somebody to do such a massive overhaul when the story isn’t even finished yet?? Like maybe once its done and I have time I can go and edit it, but not when I haven’t even finished it lmao

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Nah. I don’t care about smut a whole lot personally. I much more enjoy writing emotional scenes, character interactions and mystery. Plot over porn basically lmao 

Have you ever had a fic stolen? 

I don’t...do people actually do this? It feels like such a weird and pointless thing to do. It’s fanfic. stuff you write for fun and for free, for people to read for free. I’d also imagine its pretty easy to get caught given AO3 shows when you first posted your story. 

Have you ever had a fic translated?

 Yes, a couple of times. In Russian and I think other one was Chinese?

Have you ever co-written a fic before? 

Writing the crossovers was kinda that? Like I asked feedback from Tea and Leon on how to write them. there was also actually third crossover story that was supposed to happen (only I wasn’t going to be the one to write it) but this project has been shelved as the other person had to drop majority of online activity due to some IRL health related things. (I’m just glad they recently contacted me to inform they were doing better)

What’s your all time favorite ship? 

Right now it’s..probably pretty obvious its Shigadabi, but I can never really say any ship is my all time fave, as it always changes depending on the fandom lmao. 

I guess my favorite character x proper sleep/emotional stability/happiness will always be the OTP

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Oof. I always try to finish every single one, and if I absolutely know I won’t, I tend to just delete them. Thankfully I’ve only done it thrice. Which I guess is still a lot, but compared to how much I write, in context not really? 

What are your writing strengths?

From what I’ve gathered of feedback, its typically emotional moments/character dialogue and interaction/character arcs and so. Mystery plots too. Or maybe that last one is just me lmao

What are your writing weakness?

Personally, while I tend to get positive feedback on both, sometimes I feel like I struggle to choose a good pacing for a fic, and fight scenes are always a pain. Namely, I might struggle with making the pace too long-winded and slow sometimes. Ironically, my IRL update pacing is probs a bit too fast in turn. (To add another layer of irony, I got an update ready for Unravel that I’ll post after making this tag)

Also writing shorter stories. I’ve been trying to write one-shots more (like the Spinaraki series thing) to kinda try and get myself to pack up my stories better and not let them always spiral out of control haha

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I did try to do that once with a fic I deleted, I had a native speaker help me with the canadian french bits. This person is no longer active on tumblr, and I deleted that fic because I realized I’d never finish it. 

Technically tho, as a non-native English speaker, EVERY word is in other language to me lmao. I could only add Finnish as an extra one easily, and it rarely makes sense to do so anyway.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for? 

MCU. It’s what I originally made my AO3 for, as I felt brave enough to post things. I also can’t remember writing fandom related stuff before that, it was typically more oc related. Writing fics has helped me learn a lot about world-building, character consistency and all that stuff, without having to make everything from scratch (tho I do enjoy doing that as well of course). I feel like my original work writing has improved too thanks to my fic writing shenanigans in a way lmao. Tho that might just be me, IDK

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? 

Oooof. This changes a lot depending on the time. I can never really pick just one either: my current favorites are Stringmaster, The neighbor and Family Secrets

Stringmaster because I love building the Steampunk AU, and Tomura’s relationship with Dabi and his Sensei, The neighbor because I personally think the romance build up in that one is probably one of the best I’ve done so far (the character dialogue in that is among my favorites I’ve written as well) and FS, because it taught me a lot about character building through writing a character like Hisashi.

 Plus I just really like Hisashi. 

And baby Izuku and little Tenko are super adorable. 

And Inko is the best mum.

 Also the fact the whole story is so ironic in a sense its still kinda funny to me. 

The only writer I know that might be around rn is @nightlilly0110 soo...I guess I’ll tag them if they want to do this! Anybody who’s a writer can snatch this too of course ;)

[jawritter]

You and Me...

Chapter 4

***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non-con, male!rape, injury, violence, description of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self-harm, panic attacks, implied female non-con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!Jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.

***Chapter Warnings*** Okay guys please pay attention to the warnings I’m about to say! This chapter gets a little heavy, and this is where it all starts to kind of pick up. This chapter will contain hints of non-con/ rape. Rough smut, Jensen is a complete ass hole in this one, and before you ask there is a reason for it, mostly to give you a peek at his mindset before things really get rocky for him. The actions of the characters in this fic are completely fiction, and they are not to be seen as reflections of the people themselves! Lighter warnings are language, self-loathing (implied on Jensen’s part), mild descriptions of injury related to sex, nothing heavy there’s worse out there, degrading actions in a way, regret, angst, smut, I think that’s everything. (At least I hope so.)

Word Count: 2236

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Misha, Jensen Ackles x Jared, Jensen Ackles x Jessica, Reader X OFC Alex

A/N: When I originally wrote this chapter I didn’t even know who Steve Carlson was, so the Steve in this story isn’t him lol. Oddly enough I wrote this before I even really knew he was making an album lol. Anyway, all mistakes are mine, please don’t copy my work, Feedback is golden. If you want to be added to the series tag list, or my tag list just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one. After this chapter things tend to start to pick up a little.

Summary: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter your course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getting through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***

Jensen’s POV:

“I can’t believe she got you back!” 

Jared was laughing, leaning up against the bar in Jensen’s kitchen. Misha was sitting across from him, trying to hide the fact that he thought it was more than a little funny as well. 

“Yeah man, you kinda ask for it,” he finally said, taking a long swig of his beer. A smirk firmly planted on his face and his eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement. 

 "Screw you both,“ Jensen said, turning around and grabbing himself a beer out of the fridge, a smirk playing across his face. He saw the hint of jealousy cross Y/N’s face when he greeted Jennifer today. He didn’t miss that every time he gave Jennifer a compliment, or flirted with her just a little bit that it was getting under Y/N’s skin. He knew Y/N had a crush on him.

He’d been in the entertainment industry long enough to be able to pick it off a girl’s face across a room. Which came in pretty handy at bars and parties. 

He saw the way her breath caught when she met him for the first time. He saw the smirk cross her face when he got pissed today while she was screwing with him.

Jensen slipped his tongue out and over his full pink lips, letting it run across his lips slowly, followed by his teeth pulling slightly at his bottom lip. 

"I know that look,” Misha said not even trying to hide his amusement at this point. “He likes her,” he said, looking to Jared grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Jensen’s got the hots for Y/N,” still with that same evil smirk on his face. 

“What? No, I don’t!” Jensen said, getting up from his seat he’d just sat in across the bar from Jared and turning his back to them again so that they could not see his face, acting like he was cleaning up a spill on the counter. 

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen that look before. You got a crush on Y/N. Furthermore, I think she may have it for you just as bad. She just doesn’t know it yet,” Misha said, taking another swig of his beer, raising his eyebrows annoyingly.

“I do not have a thing for Y/N,” Jensen said, still trying to defend himself. “She’s a self-absorbed little bitch.”

“She’s only a bitch because you’re a dick,” Jared said, staring at his friend and trying his best to read him. 

Jensen just stopped wiping at the counter and stared at him. The conversation he walked up on coming back to his mind. The look on Y/N’s face when she said that he was probably gonna go fuck Jennifer later stun more than he wanted to admit it did, even to himself. 

He ran his fingers ideally over the small piece of paper in his pocket that Jennifer had slipped there when he hugged her goodbye today. No doubt it was her number. He definitely had a chance to get her in bed. That’s all he’d want from her anyway. She seemed like a nice enough girl, but she was a lot younger than him, and he didn’t want to screw up her life by letting her get attached to him.  It had been way too long since he was ‘with’ a woman, and he needed to blow off some steam. 

“I’m definitely thinking about hooking up with that blonde though,” Jensen said with a smirk, his friends exchanged worried looks between themselves. 

“Jay she’s young, man,” Jared said looking at his friend, his concern grew more and more by the minute. He’d never seen Jensen act this way before, much less heard him talk about or to a woman the way he has lately.  

“She’s legal,” Jensen said, waving his hand, and blowing his friend off, and pulling out his phone and the little slip of paper. 

“Whatever man, I still think it’s a bad idea,” Misha said, getting up and finishing his beer. He didn’t like to see Jensen in this state, and he wasn’t going to watch him sit around and do something stupid. 

“I’ll see you guys around. I got a charity event to help organize. You guys gonna be there?” he asked, looking at Jared more than Jensen. Seems like Jensen’s plans had already been set for the night.

“Sure man, I’ll be there,” Jared said, getting up to see Misha out to his rental car. Jensen just grunted and continued texting, setting up his meetup for tonight. 

Your POV:

Sitting at your friend’s bar in downtown Austin you take a look at the room that was buzzing around you.

It wasn’t late, but it was a weekday, so the crowd here was kind of calmer than usual. You liked it when the bar was like this. Less noise and chaos.  Alex, your friend, was leaning in on the bar cleaning off some spilled alcohol from a few minutes ago when he tried to show off his shot stacking skills and failed miserably. You needed the laugh. He was always good for that. That’s why he was one of the people you were closest to.  He always knew how to pick you up when you needed it.

“So, how much longer do you have to work with said dick?” Alex asked, you weren’t supposed to tell anyone that Jensen was recording at your work, but you knew Alex wouldn’t tell anyone. 

The two of you had met In college, and he was the older brother you never had. You told him everything. You always had. When you started having trouble in any way you always told him. This Jensen issue was no different. 

“Not a clue. Kinda is up to him. However long it takes for him to correctly cut the 12 songs he’s chosen to record. He’s talented enough, but he’s such a raging ass hole,” you tell him, taking a long swig of your beer. 

“You know it seems a little out of character for the guy. I’ve seen all the convention videos and watched the tv interviews. He didn’t seem like a dick then. Jared said he was going through a divorce. We don’t know what his ex-wife did. Just give him some space and some respect. We’re not in his shoes and we don’t know what he’s going through. He may loosen up around you now that he knows you can hold your own,” Alex said, walking down the bar to wait on another customer. 

You knew he was right. He usually was. Alex always tried to see the best in everyone, no matter how they presented themselves. That was just his way. 

Maybe some of this was your fault. You hadn’t exactly handled this situation like an adult either. So if you were being completely honest with yourself, you could be partially to blame.

Tomorrow you will try and make peace with the man because you didn’t really want to go to war with someone like him. You also had watched the con videos, and the thought of having to deal with an ass hole who likes to prank people just wasn’t falling very high on your bucket list. 

Tonight though, you would enjoy the fact that today you won. That would be enough. You still had to work with the man for the foreseeable future. There was no reason to have to go to work miserable every day, just because you couldn’t handle a little attitude from a client. 

You were going to be the bigger person if it killed you.

Still, when he looked at you, no matter how mad you were at him, or how much you tried to hate him, you get that same feeling deep in your gut that you haven’t been able to pinpoint yet. It bothered you. It bothered you more than it probably should have. Cause once he was done with this recording, you knew you’d never see him again. That was probably what got to you most of all.

Jensen’s POV:

Sliding his now softened length out of the young blond laying underneath him, Jensen immediately stood to his feet without even looking at Jennifer he started for the bathroom. She laid there on the bed, saying nothing, just staring at Jensen. A pissed off look on her face. 

That was not what she expected. 

That wasn’t what she really wanted. 

How could she tell him no though? He really gave her no room for an opinion. 

Jensen had been a little rough with Jennifer purposely. All he wanted was to do what came there to do and leave. He didn’t want her getting attached, and catching feelings that he honestly wouldn’t be able to reciprocate it. 

Someone else seemed to have a hold on him already, no matter how much he fought against it.

He could tell she hadn’t enjoyed what had just gone on between them. He had got off though, and so in his opinion, his mission was accomplished. 

When he came out of the bathroom he saw her sitting with her back to him slipping her shirt back on over her head. He saw the light purple bruises he had left on her neck and sides. Flashes of what went on a few moments ago ran in front of his eyes. 

Her small frame slamming against the door. His hands roughly undressed her. The feeling of his hand firmly around her throat. The look of fear in her eyes.

 He shook his head trying to shake the image from his mind. Guilt already starting to take its hold. 

When she stood to slide her skirt back up her legs he saw the bruises he had left here in the shape of his fingers. She had told him he was hurting her, that she wanted him to stop; but he didn’t. He just kept going until he was finished... Why didn’t he just stop…

Jensen swallowed hard, trying to not vomit in the middle of the hotel room floor. His own actions made him sick to his stomach. Why did he do that? What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t want to hurt her. He just…  He just lost control, taking things out on her that he’d obviously had pint up inside of him since the divorce. 

Walking over to her without a word Jensen looked down at her, and she wouldn’t look at him. Damn, he’d screwed up now, and he knew it. 

Putting his finger under her chin, making her look at him. He stared at her for a moment. There was something wrong, no light there. The excited girl he’d taken here just an hour before long gone.

He hated what he was doing, but he had to protect himself. 

“Let’s just keep tonight between you and me. No need for anyone else to know,” he said, winking at her like it could solve everything, and she’d just melt at his feet and forgive him. 

He knew that wasn’t going to happen. She said nothing, just stared at him with hate forming in her eyes. Pulling a few bills from his pocket, Jensen threw it on the bed next to her. She looked down at the money, and then up to him. 

“Show yourself out,” he said. grabbing his wallet and heading for the door. 

He hated himself for what he just did. He saw it now. He needed help. The look on that poor girl’s face haunting his memory as he drove back to his house, stopping several times along the way to throw up. Even though it started out consensual, it hadn’t ended that way and he knew it.  

He didn’t even make it to the front door before another wave of bile fell from his mouth uncontrollably, having already lost the entire contents of his stomach on the drive home. 

He had turned into a monster. He hated himself for what he’d just done, but he couldn’t take it back. It was done. There was no way to fix it.

Images of himself repeatedly ramming himself into her. The dead star that took hold on her face after she finally gave up begging him to stop. The tears that were pouring down her face.  How she tried to squirm away from him... 

Another wave of sick came falling from his mouth as he stood in the shower, scrubbing his skin raw under scalding hot water, trying to wash the monster away. He’d never forgive himself for what he’d done to Jennifer. He dreaded facing her at the studio tomorrow.  How in the hell was he going to face someone he’d hurt so deeply?

He drank himself to sleep that night, texting Jared telling him that he was sorry for the way he’d been acting, promising he would stop being an ass hole. He didn’t tell his friend what he’d done, he couldn’t, he could never tell anyone. It would die with him, shame making him hate himself deeper than he ever thought was possible.

He laid there that night praying that whoever was listening up there would forgive him for what he’d done. 

Give him another chance. 

—————————————————————————————————-

Tag List:

@deanwanddamons​​ @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @alanegaming​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​

Series Tag List:

@imaginationisgrowth​

@idksupernatural​ 

@fuzzycloudsz 

@supernatural-bellawinchester​ 

@vicmc624​

[chrismerle]

FOR THE FANFIC ASK MEME THING (I finally picked beyond 'just... all of them?'): F, I, K, M, N, Q, S, T, V, W, X, and Y. WHICH ISN'T ALL OF THEM it's just... several...

(from here)

F. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I’m working on a Final Fantasy XV AU, because that’s basically all I write for FFXV; I really love the building blocks it gave me, but I don’t like a lot of the architecture. Anyway, conceptually it’s a fairly standard ‘what if Ardyn wasn’t a villain?’ thing, and on the off chance it ever sees the light of day, it will be called There Is a Crack in Everything.

This is a really early scene.

Regis stepped into his study, and Ardyn scarcely gave him time to close the door before wondering, with a languid sort of ease, “For how long have I been Adagium?” He sounded as if the word tasted foul.

“Longer than I can be certain of,” Regis sighed, taking his seat at his desk, across from Ardyn.

“And I’ll be able to relax for...how long?” Ardyn wondered pleasantly, leaning an elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his hand. “Before those lovely toy soldiers of yours try to haul me back to my stone box, that is.”

For a moment, Regis was quiet. For a moment, Regis thought of his father. Mors would have reacted the instant he realized who Ardyn was, and Regis wondered how many of the Glaive would have died and what sort of enemy they would have created.

He thought of his son, just a few weeks old. Already, Regis knew he did not want to teach Noctis to be that sort of king.

He did not want to be his father.

“You may stay here, should you wish it,” Regis answered at last.

Ardyn blinked, slowly. His expression didn’t change, but his words seemed carefully picked for carelessness. “And no one will wonder at another of the bloodline suddenly appearing?” he asked. “Or am I forbidden from showing off?”

“We’ll say you’re my half-brother,” Regis answered before he was even fully aware he’d come up with a solution. “It won’t surprise many.”

Ardyn’s eyes narrowed. “You’re awfully eager to dub me family.”

“You already are family,” Regis reasoned. “It seems it’s time someone finally treated you as such.”

That, at last, seemed to unmoor Ardyn. His posture went rigid for a moment as his gaze went distant. Twice, he opened his mouth to respond, before closing it without saying a word.

It took him only a moment to gather his composure, though, before he cleared his throat. “I have to say, this is the most elaborate method anyone has ever used to call me a bastard. I suppose that alone means it’s worth putting up with it.”

Regis laughed before he could help it.

I like it for a handful of reasons. For one thing, I’ve successfully weaponized it (and a few other snippets of the same WIP) to make my friend Ala emotional. For another, I didn’t really see this dynamic between Regis and Ardyn coming. It just sort of happened while I was typing, but I liked it when it showed up. It felt natural for an Ardyn who hadn’t been driven mad by turning countless people into daemons, but who was nevertheless not the same gentle healer after 2,000 years of isolation.

I. Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

I got paid for years, plural, to write really bad porn about people who could turn into animals fucking. I have no shame left. I’ve had no shame since the first time someone offered to pay me $500 for smut.

K. What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

It is, again, related to FFXV. I wrote If the Ring Fits and Backed in Silver years ago, and ever since, I’ve tossed around the idea of writing another sequel for Ignis.

The only issue is that my idea for it would forcibly make him realize that the Prompto that had been in their world was not actually their Prompto, and had not been for over a decade. And it would be a conflict he’d have to grapple with through the entire fic, trying to decide whether to force that same replacement on someone in a different world or to just endlessly keep hopping from one world to another because he can’t return to his.

I’ve never actually written any of it, and the concepting never got beyond Ignis’s revelation about Prompto. But considering If the Ring Fits was 10,000 words long and Backed in Silver was 20,000, I can only imagine what sort of behemoth it would be.

M. Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

Like, WIPs, or things that I’ve pondered but haven’t started working on?

I’ve got a few WIPs. There’s the aforementioned non-villainous Ardyn AU. I’ve got another FFXV fic that’s been on hiatus on AO3 for legitimately over three years, and the next chapter is very nearly finished and I just...can’t seem to get there. I’ve got a Persona 5 new game+ fic in the works. That one’s fully plotted out already, and just the outline is like 15 pages long. Based on how the first chapter is going, each chapter will probably be anywhere from 10-20,000 words long. And I’ve got a melancholy immediately-post-season-two Mandalorian one shot in the works, spawned almost entirely so I could make Mando say ‘fuck.’ I know no one says fuck in Star Wars, but I don’t care. I will not say kriff and no one can make me. And I’ve got the Dragon Age uber fic that I’ve just sort of been plugging away at since Inquisition was released and none of it has ever seen the light of day, unless you count me shoving a few snippets at Siobhan.

Oh, and I’m rewriting an older Mass Effect fic.

For things that I’ve thought about but haven’t really worked on, they’re mostly more Dragon Age and FFXV. The “canon” stories for the two timelines not covered in the uber fic, and more AU nonsense spawned from ItRF and BiS.

N. Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

Like, finish one of MY fics? No. I would bite them if they tried. Hell, I love you and I would bite you if you tried.

Just, in general? At this point I would take a monkey paw-style deal to get someone to finish Home.

(for anyone who isn’t Jim, Home is a nuTrek Jim/Spock fic that I think I was in high school when it was published. I graduated from college over five years ago.)

Q. How do you feel about collaborations?

Mixed feelings. I’ll take feedback, assuming I’ve offered the mic for it. I’ll prattle on about whatever I’ve got cooking. I’ll ask for ideas or suggestions. But when it comes to the actual writing of it, I’m a control freak. So, people are welcome to help me gather up the building blocks, but I’m gonna wind up doing the actual building myself.

S. Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Overly elaborate AUs.

T. Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

That thing fandom does where if they’ve decided a character has anxiety, then it does not matter how that anxiety presents itself in canon, in fanon they are a weepy, shy introvert who can hardly string a sentence together because they’ve polymorphed into a shivering puppy.

V. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Does it count if I just say I wanna rewrite a series as a whole? There’s a FrostIron series I read ages ago before the MCU made me wanna gag, and at the time I LOVED it. And then not that long ago I went back and read it again, and it felt like I was saying goodbye to it because oh my god it was unbearable.

Loki was NEVER FUCKING WRONG ABOUT ANYTHING, unless he wasn’t in the room, in which case Tony picked the slack about not ever being wrong about anything.

W. Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

More specific. Not this past Christmas, but the one before that, I was doing some Advent Drabbles for one of my roleplay blogs, so I was open to drabble suggestions anyone wanted to see. Like 70% of them were just one or two words and I’m just staring at my ask box like ‘thanks, I hate it’

(Kudos, though, to the random stranger who gave me a very specific, paragraph-long prompt for a Spider-Man (PS4) fic.)

X. A character you enjoy making suffer.

...All of them?

Y. A character you want to protect.

I guess Din Djarin.

I mean, he still falls into the above ‘all of them’ but when I make him suffer it’s more related to exploring something that happened in canon, rather than me directly causing it.

[illfoandillfie]

.......don’t be shy........ show us the comment 👀👀

lmao i will show you but only because i’ve already responded to it. I don’t want anyone to be mean to the commenter or make their own responses or anything like that. I’ve got no problems with people critiquing my work or offering suggestions on how to improve and she was very polite about it. It’s just that I didn’t agree with some of what she said lmao

okay so this comment was left on the prequel to Interloper (Snapshots From Before)

I usually don’t comment a lot in here (tho i do give lots of kudos) and the first part of this was so awesome that i’ve read it many times! However, this second part felt kinda... sexist? I think you gave this the wrong approach and ended up with the boys being a little mysoginistic, specially Roger telling y/n “if you are that hungry for dick you can ride me” (i’m not actually quoting the exact line but it was like that). I would’ve love to see at least one scene where you show some after care and the boys actually caring about y/n so we could see that their relationship is a healthy one. Without this, it just seems like she’s bassically a human sex toy. I get it, it’s the whole “she’s just holes to fill” and that’s great, i respect people who are into that, but even then there has to be some caring and empathy from both parties. Also, orgasm denial is hot but regardless, having sex has to be rewarding for both participants and Roger just sorta fucked her and asked her to leave? In a very non polite way? Sex is about both parties reaching to climax and equality for both lmao.😅 I know it’s a one shot but i would’ve like to see the non sexual part of y/n’s relationship with the boys other than post coital conversations. Again, i loved the first and third part, i think you have so much writing potencial within you and you should embrace it. These are all constructive critics and i do not wish to make you feel bad or offend you. I actually enjoy the whole mecanics of these raw, awesome, hot, sexy sex scenes but even though its fiction (which i know) and this whole slut kink is actually something people like let’s not forget to narrate healthy, caring relationships. Again, this seems like some eassay for a thesis but im just expressing MY point of view and i do not intend harm towards you as a writer or someone else as a reader. And yes, probably i need to “chill the F out” cause it’s just an ao3 bloody fic but still. Expressing an opinion that can help the writer improve is good! I think. Better than spreading hate. Hope you can see this note as friendly and respectul advice. Thank you so much for writing this. Have a great day! Stay safe xxx

and this was my response

Hi! Thanks for taking the time to comment, it really means a lot!

I will definitely keep in mind some of your criticisms as I continue writing, however there are a couple of places where our opinions differ, so I’d like to offer an explanation or two as to why I wrote it the way I did.

Firstly, I have to disagree with your statement that sex is about both parties reaching climax. It’s not. Not always anyway. Taking aside any kink related aspects like orgasm denial, sometimes sex just isn’t about finishing. It can be super rewarding and fun even without the orgasm. So much of an orgasm is related to a person’s mental state that little things like their mood or stress level or if they feel pressure to cum can have a huge impact on how easy it is to orgasm. And women especially can have trouble reaching climax. For some people, mostly women though it can affect men too, the sexual disorder anorgasmia makes orgasm physically impossible no matter how much stimulation they receive. So to say sex is about everyone getting to that end point isn’t totally correct. A lot of the time it’s less about the orgasm and more about feeling good during the rest of the act and/or strengthening a connection with a partner. Expecting everyone to orgasm every time is unrealistic and can in fact make it harder. Of course, that’s ignoring people who enjoy the kink side of it, intentionally stopping orgasms. A lot of people take tease and denial beyond just the length of a single sexual encounter, instead stretching it to days or weeks or months or even years of not being able to cum (fully).

Now, in regards to the fic itself. This chapter came about because I’d asked people to request concepts theyd like to see me write as a blurb or short one shot. I neglected to include the actual request in the summary or author note but the request was for a smutty prequel to interloper flashing back to when Reader was a groupie. At the time of writing I had a lot of requests I was trying to get done within a short amount of time so I was trying to keep things as brief as I could while still giving an entire story. The non-sexual aspects of the relationships didn’t feel important to include in this chapter because that wasn’t what was asked for. On top of that, the entire concept of the story hangs on how the sexual relationship dynamics change when the non-sexual relationship dynamics change and I wanted to make sure that wasn’t affected by the prequel. My goal was to establish a connection between the reader character and each of the guys and to make it feel as if there was history there, so I focused on flirty banter that led into sex scenes. And then, at the end of each scene, implied more would happen between the characters “off page”. I added in the Freddie section at the end as a way to solidify this chapter as a prequel and give a little explanation for how the main part starts (of course, at that time there was no third chapter). Plus, as Freddie doesn’t have a sexual relationship with Reader, his non-sexual relationship with her is very different to her relationships with the others, much closer to a friendship. (Which of course paves the way for how he’s on better terms with her at the beginning of the first chapter.)

One thing you imply in your comment is that as an author I should be writing healthy, caring relationships. I love writing those sorts of stories and relationships but I don’t believe I /have/ to write just healthy, caring relationships. I have a total of 38 fics posted on AO3 and I think most of them deal with “healthy” relationships. I make it a point to write aftercare scenes and to establish trust and safe words between my characters in most of my smut writing. And even if I’m exploring heavier kinks like extreme bdsm or hypnosis and bimbofication I do my best to stick to the rules of “safe, sane and consensual”. But, it is not my job as a writer to create morally perfect or role model relationships. I am well within my rights to explore relationships that don’t adhere to what is traditionally considered healthy, be that through ignoring safe words or foregoing aftercare or just having two characters be manipulative and mean to each other. If you want aftercare and “healthy” I have 37 other fics for you to look at. But this chapter doesn’t have to be that for it to be publishable.

And finally, I feel I have to defend Roger a little bit. I can definitely see how he could be read as sexist and I think part of the problem was just me trying to keep it short which meant I didn’t give enough space for Reader’s reactions or enough descriptions of emotion. But to me, as I was writing it, nothing Roger said was intended to be misogynistic or rude. I was playing around with one of my personal favourite kinks, degradation in conjunction with the orgasm denial (another favourite lmao). Everything he said was specifically to humiliate and degrade her, just because that’s what I find hot. Calling her desperate, telling her she sounds pretty begging, talking down to her, implying he’d /use/ her again later, all of that is part of the degradation kink and I intended for it to be a form of dirty talk. Similarly, the part where he says she can leave wasn’t meant to come across as rude. He calls her a good girl and brushes her hair back from her face first (a softer moment, contrasting everything else that happens between them) and then says she can leave, which plays into the denial kink and the idea that it could last longer than the time they were in bed together. Personally, I’m very very into extended denial, especially if it’s treated as a threat of punishment or something like that, and that was the inspiration behind Roger’s section of this chapter.

Thank you again for the comment, it really did make me think about how I’d written this particular chapter and my intentions behind it. And I fully agree that comments like yours can help writers improve! I’ll definitely keep in mind what you’ve said as I work on my next fic and hopefully avoid some of the unintended sexist overtones in future. Have a great day!

[so-shiny-so-chrome]

Witness: Battle_Cat

Creator name (AO3): battle_cat

Creator name (Tumblr): fuckyeahisawthat

Link to creator works: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battle_cat/works

Q: Why the Mad Max Fandom?

A: Fury Road blew my goddamn mind. I like action movies and female action protagonists, but nothing has ever quite hit me like Fury Road. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had never written fanfic and didn't know what ao3 was, but the characters just wouldn't leave my head. I started seeking out meta on Tumblr, and many of the people who were writing and sharing great meta were also writing fic, and at some point I started thinking, hey, this is a thing I can do. And then I did it, A LOT.

Q: What do you think are some defining aspects of your work? Do you have a style? Recurrent themes?

A: Smut smut and more smut, lol! And sometimes action. I really like writing about intense physical experiences and the emotions they generate. I come from a screenwriting background, so I tend to be terse and am always thinking about how to say the most with the fewest words possible. I love writing characters who find it very hard to talk about their feelings, so Max and Furiosa are pretty much perfect for me.

Q: Which of your works was the most fun to create? The most difficult? Which is your most popular? Most successful? Your favourite overall?

A: Ahhh I can't pick between all of my children! AO3 statistics says Zero to Sixty, my Max-and-Furiosa-get-together fic, is my most popular by hits, kudos and bookmarks, which is not surprising given that it was written early in the fandom. I don't think I can pick a favorite but I have a lot of love for: Desperate Measures, Her Reputation Precedes Her, Hard Run, Tough to be Tender, and Scarf Thing. The only fic I'm still slightly unhappy with: Equinox. I feel like I set up some great tension and then wrapped it up too quickly.

Q: How do you like your wasteland? Gritty? Hopeful? Campy? Soft? Why?

A: Hard but with some humanity left still.

Q: Walk us through your creative process from idea to finished product. What's your prefered environment for creating? How do you get through rough patches?

A: Most of my short pieces are really just a single scene, sometimes with setup and aftermath. Sometimes I'll start with an image (like one of @youkaiyume's excellent smut drawings) or a concept or idea for the scene. Something short, like under 2,000 words, I will ideally sit down and write in one draft, maybe in a day or two. I don't do a lot of drafts, although I do somewhat edit as I go. Something longer like a multi-chapter fic, I usually have a separate Word document with notes and a very rough outline. I usually have the ending or the big climactic scene in my head before I've got everything in the middle figured out. If I'm struggling with something, I'll usually step away and just let my brain chew on it for a while, until I figure out what about it isn't working for me. I learned in grad school that your brain can be doing a lot of creative heavy lifting while you're off doing other things.

Q: What (if any) music do you listen to for help getting those creative juices flowing?

A: I'm not much of a music person, tbh. I have gotten inspiration from fanart, Tumblr submissions and kinkmeme prompts, though.

Q: What is your biggest challenge as a creator?

A: Finding enough time and energy to write. I'm someone who needs big chunks of time to let my brain get into the creative state and this whole having to have a job thing is a real drag.

Q: How have you grown as a creator through your participation in the Mad Max Fandom? How has your work changed? Have you learned anything about yourself?

A: When I saw Fury Road, I had been in a serious writing drought for the better part of a year. I was frustrated and feeling very hopeless about the filmmaking world. Even under the best of conditions, filmmaking is an incredibly slow process with a lot of gatekeepers. Being able to just write something, put it on ao3 and get instant feedback was an incredible breath of fresh air. I remembered my love of writing and found a whole new creative community. I started exploring a new genre, erotica, and learned that I love it. I started writing prose again after a long period of focusing on screenwriting, and gained a new appreciation for what can be done in the short story format.

Q: Which character do you relate to the most, and how does that affect your approach to that character? Is someone else your favourite to portray? How has your understanding of these characters grown through portraying them?

A: Furiosa is the character who lives in my head most vividly. She has a lot of characteristics I tend to put in my original female characters: a certain ruthlessness and hardness; hypercompetence combined with standoffishness punctuated by a few key moments of vulnerability.

Q: Do you ever self-insert, even accidentally?

A: I don't really like talking about characters as self-inserts. I think every character has some part of you in them whether you're aware of it or not.

Q: Do you have any favourite relationships to portray? What interests you about them?

A: Maxiosa for sure. I already had a pattern before Fury Road of writing hard women and caring men, so Furiosa and Max fit right into that. They are both incredibly damaged people who have been the victims and the perpetrators of violence, have a lot of self-loathing, have been isolated in various ways for a long time, and are used to having no one to trust. Bringing those two people together and watching them slowly allow themselves to trust each other is very powerful.

Q: How does your work for the fandom change how you look at the source material?

A: Fury Road is an incredibly rich text and there are so many things that are only hinted at, left unexplained or implied. I've lost count of how many times I've watched it at this point, but there are always more details to notice and spin headcanons about.

Q: Do you prefer to create in one defined chronology or do your works stand alone? Why or why not?

A: For MMFR, I started out writing mostly short smutty one-shots. At a certain point it made sense to start stringing them together, and the ones that take place in the same timeline are now roughly in order in the series Together. It happened organically, though - I tend to write my longer stories non-chronologically anyway, so at some point I realized I was constructing a giant smut novel.

Q: To break or not to break canon? Why?

A: Ehn, I am pretty agnostic on this. Sometimes sticking to canon can be a fun limitation you impose on your story. Other times, ignoring it can be a fun what-if.

Q: Share some headcanons.

A: Ace definitely lived. Nux definitely died historic. Valkyrie is alive in some of my stories and not in others. Dag's baby is a girl and she names her Angharad. Max comes and goes from the Citadel, staying for increasingly longer periods of time. Furiosa often wants to leave, but feels too much responsibility to the new Citadel to ever let herself.

Q: If you work with OCs walk us through your process for creating them. Who are some of your favourites?

A: I haven't created a lot of OCs in the Mad Max world because the canon characters are just so interesting to explore. But when I do they just kind of pop up. Biltong from the story Her Reputation Precedes Her is a personal favorite.

Q: If you create original works, how do those compare to your fan works?

A: My original works are mostly on the action/thriller/horror spectrum. I had never written smut before MMFR, but to me, it's very similar to writing action. You're telling a story through high-intensity physicality and the emotions surrounding it. In my original works, I mostly write female protagonists in high-intensity situations, so it made sense that MMFR would catch my attention.

Q: What are some works by other creators inside and outside of the fandom that have influenced your work?

A: @primarybufferpanel 's Orbit was my fandom gateway drug. @primarybufferpanel, @sacrificethemtothesquid, @lurkinghistoric, @v8roadworrier, @thebyrchentwigges, @thatonezombiecosplayer, @youkaiyume, @ecouter-bien , @bethagain, @fadagaski and @yohunny have all created things that I find inspiring, epic, thrilling, heartbreaking, hot, funny or all of the above. And I'm lucky that I've gotten to know many of them online and in meatspace!

Q: What advice can you give someone who is struggling to make their own works more interesting, compelling, cohesive, etc.? 

A: Stop and ask yourself: What does this character want? Why are they doing what they're doing right now? Concretely, what are they trying to achieve? What are the obstacles? What are the consequences if they don't get what they want? If a scene or story isn't working for me, usually it's because I don't know the answer to one of these questions.

Q: Have you visited or do you plan to visit Australia, Wasteland Weekend, or other Mad Max place?

A: I've been to Wasteland Weekend 3 times (2016, '17, '18) with Clan of the Boltcutters, and plan to go again in 2019. It's been so cool watching our camp and the festival grow and change each year. I had never been to anything remotely like Wasteland before I got involved in the Mad Max fandom, and now I can't imagine it not being part of my year. Australia...maybe someday.

Q: Tell us about a current WIP or planned project.

A: While I've been writing in the Venom fandom lately, I do plan to come back at some point and finish Closer, a story I really liked writing that I just haven't gotten time to get back to. I also have a few lingering MMFR projects that will hopefully be completed later this year.

Thank you @fuckyeahisawthat

[brynwrites]

Ask Compile!

Topics covered: 

Tips for indexing notes.

Thoughts on second person pov.

Tips for writing smut.

Writing non-binary protagonists perceived as villains.

Knowing when to use or ignore feedback.

I also received two questions (writing elementals and character growth) which are already going to be covered by longer articles in my queue. 

Indexing Notes

@kantuck​: Good day: Do you have any advice on how to index previously taken notes? I have gigs of notes on paper, and electronic over the years and now I'd like to be able to index them someway so that I can write within this storyworld?

Set aside a huge chunk of time, plan to do it for 15 or 20 minutes every even, whatever works best for your schedule, just make it a plan and then follow through.

Use an organization tool with a folder system made for note taking (like scrivener or evernote), not a system like google docs where you have to load each document on it’s own. 

Decide how you’re organizing them ahead of time. I usually have my outline itself split into the major points I already know I need to hit, along with individual character files and a few dozen worldbuilding related files.

Put things in every folder or file they relate to. If you have something important to a certain character and a certain setting and the character’s species, put that information in all the relevant files. 

(I hope this was what you were looking for?)

Second Person

Okay, so I absolutely despise 2nd person point of view. But it seems like it's popular, especially with fanfics. I'm just wondering why? And do you like 2nd person point of view?

I’m not a fan of second person either, so I feel you. I think the general draw of it (especially in fanfiction, even more so in erotic fanfiction) is the fact that you’re supposed to be the person doing the things, existing in this world with the characters you love. It gives every reader their own self-insert. 

In my opinion, it’s kind of ridiculous outside of choose your own adventure type stories, but some readers really enjoy it, so all the power to them, I guess?

Writing smut

Sorry if this is an odd question. But, how do you write smut? For a friends birthday I want to write a smut fic of her favorite pair, but I just cant write smut. You don't have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable. Thanks!

Fun fact: I wrote a lot of smut during my university years. (That was pretty much the only thing I wrote, actually.) It had a negative effect on my mental health though, so I’ve backed out of that whole scene pretty thoroughly. 

Honestly, smut for the sake of smut is pretty much just imagining a steamy scene you get off on, and then writing it out. The most prominent things to watch for are what you’re calling everyone’s junk (there’s a nice line between too technical and too outrageous, and you can probably find long lists of people’s opinions if you search around enough), and whether you’re describing the positions the characters are in well enough for the reader to picture them. Throw in some simple and common metaphors for sensual sensations, and remember to focus on the emotional, romantic aspects too (especially during repetitive motions or anything that makes you slightly uncomfortable to write/read.) 

If you’re writing a sex scene as a scene in a non-erotic novel, things get a lot more complicated really quickly, because you have to take into account things like prior emotion states, character growth, relationship development, and plot.

Non-binary protagonists perceived as villains

Hi, I read a post of yours regarding binary people writing non-binary characters and I figured asking a non-binary person was the best way to go about this. The protagonist in one of my wip's is non-binary, however, this character is generally seen as a 'villain' by others despite not necessarily being one due to context and lore implications. Can I ask for advice on how to write such a character without enforcing any negative stereotypes surrounding non-binary people? Thanks for your time.

The nonbinary collab team has finally started work on a post which will cover these kinds of topics in more detail, so keep a look out for that, but I’ll mention a few things here anyways:

1. One of the most prominent negative stereotypes surrounding non-binary people being villains involves using the non-binary identity to show how “corrupt” or “insane” or “inhuman” the villain is. (This happens both in fiction and through specifically pointing out the non-gender-conformity of historical immoral people while denying that the heroes of those cultures held the same level of non-gender-conformity.) There’s nothing inherently wrong with writing a villain who just happens to be nonbinary, but a villain should never be a villain because they’re nonbinary.

2. In any situation where you have an oppressed people group represented as a villain, it’s always a good rule of thumb to also have at least one character of that group represented in the heroes “team” (or, in cases where there’s no heroes, by a team with differing beliefs or goals, preferably by decently moral characters.) 

That being said, it seems like your protagonist isn’t actually evil themselves, so unless the reason other people in the world see them as a villain is because they see nonbinary people as villainous, I can’t imagine you’ll have any major issues :)

Bending the Elements 

Hey! Do you have tips on how to write bending of the elements? I got an idea for a book, but I can't seem to describe what people do when bending without making it sound like an Avatar The Last Airbender fanfiction. The only thing I have similar to the show is the bending of elements, the story in itself is hopefully original enough to hold its own, but still I make the bending sound like fanfiction... my story has nothing to do with Avatar. Any tips?

Hey there nonny! I’m planning to write a full post on describing the use of magic, so I can add in a section on elemental magic when I start that :)

When feedback doesn’t fit the picture.

@aerodragneel​: In my current WIP, the MC has to find the powerful superhero Vulcan from 15 years ago, who quit after losing to the main antagonist who’s resurfaced. I was told not to make him a vital part of the story, but Vulcan’s entire character arc is vital to his and the MC’s story. When I envision Vulcan, I see someone who wants to help, but after all he’s gone through, he just can’t anymore and when he meet’s the MC, that spark of being a hero is reignited. Thanks for the help and get better soon! 😉

No one knows your story and characters better than you. Write the story however it makes the most sense and feels strongest! If you think Vulcan needs to be present throughout the story to influence the MC’s arc, then by all means, include him. There will always be an opportunity to take him out later, and you’ll get much more accurate feedback from people once they’ve read the entire story, edited until you approve of it.

(And remember that not everyone will give you advice that’s beneficial to the story you want to write. Here’s some other good reasons not to change your story in order to accommodate a piece of feedback.)

Character growth

How do I go about writing about somebody who over time has a change of heart? My story is going to be about a woman who was originally set out to kill a man but ends up falling in love with him.

I have plans to write a post on redemption arcs, and a more thorough post on character development, so stay tuned for both of those!

[sippin-on-red-wine]

High Tide | Chapter 1: If You’ll Have Me

Title: High Tide: An Original, Ed Sheeran Mature Fan Fic | Chapter 1: If You’ll Have Me Author: @sippin-on-red-wine Rating: 17+, Mature (Smut comes in at the end of this chapter) Word Count:  10,478 Author’s Note: This is my first ever attempt at writing fan fiction, let alone that of the smutty variety. I started to read it recently and wanted to take a stab at my own story. I am SEEKING FEEDBACK of any and all kinds! Please feel free to drop me a message, an ask, on anon -- ANYTHING! I want to know how you like the story, the characters, do you relate to them? What did you like? What is missing? Any requests for future installments? HIT ME UP. Enjoy!

**Please like/re-blog!**

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

Ed set his glass down on the kitchen counter and poured himself another whiskey, neat. He had lost track of how many he had, though he knew the whiskies were only perpetuating his bad mood. Usually he was a fun drunk, bit of a boozy idiot actually, but that was when he was with his friends. Drinking alone didn’t warrant any celebration. Especially considering the events that had transpired in the last several weeks. Luckily, his mates were due to arrive here tomorrow afternoon.

He strode back upstairs to the master suite of his friend’s summer home in Southport, ME. She had been there when shit really hit the fan and offered up the house to Ed for as long as he needed it. She said it was the perfect place to stay out of the public eye. It was a gated community, the beaches not accessible to the public, and most people only summered there anyway. Labor Day had come and gone, and she assured Ed he wouldn’t be bothered.

He had a few dates to finish up on the Asia leg of his tour and had planned on flying back to London to start work on his next album until he was due to continue touring in the States, and actually be able to spend some time in his own god damned house. But he couldn’t face going home, the home he had built with her, not after what had happened. So he gladly took his friend up on her offer, heading to New England instead.

Ed walked barefoot across the plush carpet toward the electric fireplace. From the bits he heard on the news, it was an unseasonably warm September on the East Coast, but the nights were still really cool. He clicked the fire on and instantly felt a tick better, taking a moment to watch the flames flicker and fade.

He strode over to the big bay window next and, with a different button on the same remote, sent the blinds up. He looked down at the neighboring house, peering into the big, open windows of the living room.

Right, well wasn’t she having a better night than me? Ed looked down and studied his new neighbor. She looked to be maybe in her late twenties, tan skinned and dark hair piled all up on top of her head, rectangular specs perched on her nose. She was wearing tight black leggings and a long-sleeved red T-shirt with “Wisconsin” spelled out in white block lettering.

She walked gracefully into the living room, holding a glass of wine and a very large book. Ed watched her lie back on a black leather couch, whose back was up against the large windows facing him, and slide on some reading glasses that had been left there. Setting her wine down on the table and tossing a throw pillow behind her back, she opened up her book and settled in. Ed wasn’t sure why he was still watching, likely because he had fuck-all else to do, other than finish his whiskey.

A few beats passed and Ed decided he was being creepy, and turned to grab the remote to lower the blinds back down.

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

I slowed to a jog as I jammed the speed button down on the treadmill. I looked down at the controls and saw my stats for this run, I had gone for almost 40 minutes longer than I normally did. I slowed to a walk for a few minutes and then shut the machine off.

My hair was pulled back into a ponytail and tucked into an old baseball hat which was now drenched in sweat. I walked across my home gym over to the attached bathroom, peeling off my cap, tank top, sports bra and running tights, depositing them in the laundry chute. I tugged the elastic out of my hair and slipped into the shower, turning the faucet to just barely warm enough.

I stood under the spray, ruminating on the events of the last two weeks.

I had woken up at the asscrack of dawn yesterday to drive Ed’s friends to the airport. They had planned on just getting a cab, but I had insisted. The last two weeks spent with them here would be stuck in my memory forever. They were so upbeat, really bringing me out of my social black hole I’d been rocking for the last couple of years. And holy shit, I thought I drank too much on my own, but I had really punished my liver while they were here.

Ed rode along to bid his mates farewell, sitting shotgun and toying with my shifting hand throughout the entire two hour drive. We dropped them off outside the airport, hopping out to help them unstack their luggage from the back. They each hugged Ed & I, promised to see him again soon, and thanked me for my hospitality again.

The last two weeks had been nearly a non-stop party, chock filled with laughter, booze, bonfires, meals shared at my dining room table (the first time it had ever been used, by the way). But there was something more.

I hadn’t known, but Ed had been living in the house next door for two weeks before I met him. His friend Pete had seen me sitting out on the beach in front of my house on their first night in town, I had headphones in listening to a podcast when he tapped me on the shoulder, scaring the SHIT out of me, making me spill wine all up and down my front. The poor guy felt bad about that for at least a week. He had invited me over to join their bonfire, a friendly act that led to a chain of events that might actually have changed my life.

I must have looked like a total idiot, because I didn’t realize Ed was Ed Sheeran until the third night, when someone brought a guitar out to the fire and passed it around. The group was surprised when it came to my turn and I set my drink down, burying the stem of my glass in the sand, and plucked out a mediocre-at-best rendition of Miranda Lambert’s ‘Oklahoma Sky’. A party trick I probably wouldn’t have broken out if I hadn’t A) Been thoroughly liquored up and B) Knew I was in the presence of the largest male pop artist in the fucking world.

“Anything you can’t do, love?” Ed had chuckled as I finished, clapping along with the group. “The lady can sail, she plays guitar, and makes the best fucking lobstah mac n cheese in the whole world.” He imitated the classic Bostonian accent on ‘lobster’, sending me into a tizzy. His American accent impressions were freaking hilarious.

“Ah, well, you caught me. I know like, three songs. How does that saying go? ‘Jack of All Trades, Master of None’ ? Yep, that’d be me,” I said, passing the guitar to Ed on my left.

Night had just fallen. The air felt like a shade of navy blue with silver-white stars starting to freckle the sky above us. Ed picked up the guitar and started strumming out this beguiling melody.

“You look so wonderful in your dress, I love your hair like that. The way it falls on the side of your neck, down your shoulders and back….” I was in awe. The beautiful tenor of his voice sang out, fingers plucking the bronze strings of the guitar, his eyes closed the whole time. “So in love, so in love, so in love…” It was such a touching song.

He was barely finished when I asked, “Who sings that? That was a beautiful song, wow.”

A beat passed and no one said anything. Lauren, a strikingly tall brunette, stood up and strode over to me, hooking her arm through mine, “Let’s get a refill, yeah?” Well this is awkward.

“Erm, sure,” and I walked with her, arms still linked. She flung open the sliding glass door and I followed her into Ed’s kitchen. It was quite similar to mine, all white, with marble countertops and a large island which was currently being used as a makeshift bar.

“Love, you know who Ed is, right?” She said, looking down at me. Okay, so she didn’t bring me in here for a fill-up.

“Uh… I don’t follow?”

“Are you bullshitting me right now?” She said, taking a step toward me.

“Whoa, okay, can you please clue me in on what we’re talking about here?” I was quick to jump on the defense.

She exhaled loudly. “Ed Sheeran… you know… like, super huge pop singer? Won Grammy’s n shit?”

I racked my brain, trying to find an association with the name “Ed Sheeran”. The puzzle must have played out on my face, because Lauren dug into her pocket, pulling out her iPhone. She quickly tapped the screen a few times, and suddenly a song started playing out of the little speaker. “White lips, pale face, breathing in the snowflakes,” sang out. I suddenly felt like I had a rock in my stomach. She was tapping away at her phone again, another haunting melody beginning, playing in super-speed as she drug her finger across the screen, fast forwarding. “...keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans, holding me closer til our eyes meet, you won’t ever be alone - wait for me to come home.”

Holy shit. I set my drink down on the counter and gripped the edge. I didn’t live *completely* under a rock and had heard these songs on the local pop station, both here & back home. I saw Lauren look outside at all the guys still sitting around the fire. She pulled up another song, a sort of xylophone beat playing out, “The club isn’t the best place to find a lover, so the bar is where I go..”

“Okay, I get it.” I said, wanting her to shut the dang thing off. “I had no idea.”

“Look, I’m sorry, I’m the one that made it weird. I just thought you would want to know. Ed is totally chill. Let’s go back out by the guys. C'mon.” She handed my wine glass back, hers in tow as well.

I was reluctant, not really knowing what Ed's reaction would be. Would he think I was lying? Would he be insulted? I followed Lauren across the cool tile of the kitchen floor, out onto the patio and back down onto the beach. Ed turned his head as we approached, the guitar abandoned in the sand next to him.

“I’m guessing Lauren just blew my cover, yeah?” He joked.

“Sorry, I totally didn’t realize. I don’t do like, social media or anything, and I mostly listen to country on the radio.” I shrugged, feeling the need to explain myself.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ed reached out and rubbed my shoulder blade. “I need that ego check sometimes, I think.”

“Bloody hell ‘e does,” piped in one of the other guys, everyone laughing and chiming in with their own similar sentiments.

And things were totally back to normal after that.

The next ten days were a blur of too much food, too much alcohol, a lot of laughs, and a blossoming interest in my new neighbor. I found myself drawn to him, and he, to me. It was a few days after the “revelation” when I had taken the gang out on one of the ocean charters my company operated during the tourist season. We went out a couple hours before sundown, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the whales that would be heading back down to warmer waters now from up in Nova Scotia. We were not disappointed. The six of us were out on the bow of the ship, a 50 foot beauty, new to the fleet this year. There was a small pod of humpback whales that were delighted to play in the foamy bubble spray that was kicked up by our propellers. We were exhilarated, watching the water for bubbles and dorsal fins, waiting for the next breach.  

The biggest momma whale propelled out of the water, crashing down, creating a huge splash - I looked over and saw Ed’s face light up, head thrown back, mouth open with silent laughter. I couldn’t help but grin at his childlike wonder. He peeked at me out of the corner of his eye and caught me admiring him. He was up against the railing, I was standing back about a foot away, on deck. He twisted away from the rail and reached out to me, both hands coming to clasp mine, and he drew me into his chest, wrapping me up in a big hug, resting his chin on the top of my head. I closed my eyes, squeezing my arms around his ribcage, inhaling his slightly sweet scent of cinnamon.

I had butterflies in my stomach. I knew that I had started to develop feelings for him, but it was so early, and I didn't think he felt the same way. But when he drew me into his chest, out on the open water, I didn't know what to think anymore. I decided to play it cool.

I was re-watching these scenes in my head, and a few more days passed by. It was Saturday night and the gang was feeling particularly energetic. We set up a game of beer pong and played each other in teams of two. Once that got boring, we switched the flippy-cup, 3 on 3, playing a few sets of that. I was feeling particularly juiced up, not used to drinking any type of alcohol at such a fast pace. The boys turned on some music and we gathered round the kitchen island, grabbing out a deck of cards to play Circle of Death and pouring shots for everyone.

After the first “Waterfall” of the game, I desperately needed some air. It seemed like there were five different conversations going on at once, and the bass of Ed’s rap music was thumping throughout the kitchen. I slipped out the patio door and sauntered down to the beach, not thinking anyone had noticed me leave.

I walked down to the shore, where a few small boulders created a miniature version of Maine’s signature craggy rock seashore. I picked a smooth, flat stone and sat down, leaning back on my hands. The salty air was cathartic and I had hoped it would help sober me up a bit.

I heard the barely-there sounds of footfalls on the sand and turned back to see Ed walking toward me, looking devilishly handsome in a plain white tee and jeans. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he came and planted himself down on my rock, hip to hip.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey yourself.”

“Something wrong?” He asked, sounding mildly concerned.

“Yeah. You Brits are born with too high of an alcohol tolerance. I simply cannot keep up,” I sassed.

He cackled, “Ha! Don't repeat that to them, it will only egg them on more.”

He reached down for my hand, lacing his fingers in with mine, and leaned his head onto my shoulder. We sat there, just like that, in total silence but for the lap, lap, lap of the tide coming in to meet the beach.

And then he kissed me. He tilted his head up from my shoulder, using his free hand to bring my face in towards him, those perfect pink lips just slightly parted, his hand still cradling my face. His mouth sought out mine and I happily obliged, melting into his, the delicious feel of his tongue slipping past mine, swirling so tenderly. I could taste the cool whiskey and coke on his breath. His ripe berry-colored lips pressed into mine once more, and then he retreated.

“Come on, love, let's head back inside.” He said, standing up and offering out his hands to help you up.

Later, I laid in bed, wondering what the hell that had been about. Was he just tipsy? He had stayed fairly close to me for the rest of the night, once we re-joined the party, resting his hand on the small of my back at one point. But when I insisted I needed to head home to bed, he wished me goodnight with a hug and kiss on the cheek - as did every single one of those drunk Brits. I decided not to over think what this was, or wasn't, or where it was going. It felt nice and I just wanted to roll with the punches.

I snapped back to reality. The water in my shower was running cold now - I jacked the dial up toward the Hot side and went to work on washing my hair. I soaped up my loofah and sloppily scrubbed at my body while my conditioner soaked in. I made quick work with my razor and rinsed my hair one last time. Popping out of the shower, I dried myself thoroughly, wrapping my hair and body up in towels and headed upstairs to my room.

After Ed and I got back from the airport yesterday, we both went our separate ways, and I had resolved myself to leave him be for a while. That was just yesterday morning and now, the next afternoon, I was already yearning to see him again. I dropped my towel, tugged on a pair of black leggings, a white and grey long sleeved baseball tee, and some no-show socks. I bent over, shaking the towel out of my hair and using it to scrunch up my long, brown locks a bit. Then I grabbed a hair tie and piled it all on top of my head in a damp messy bun.

I flew down the steps and out the door into the garage, grabbing the keys for my Wrangler on the way out. My brain was on auto-pilot as I drove into town, calling up my favorite pizza place and ordering a large pepperoni & garlic bread to-go. If I had learned anything about Ed in the last two weeks, it's that his fridge was devoid of anything edible at almost all times. I thought surprising him with a pizza would be a good excuse to “pop in.”

I jammed a bit to the Beatles on the way to and from the pizza shop. It wasn’t a terribly long drive though, so I was pulling back into my driveway in no time, my car just absolutely reeking of delicious cheesy pizza goodness.

I parked in my driveway and crossed the lawn over to Ed’s, knocking on the front door. A beat passed, no answer. I knocked again, then tried the doorbell. I was just starting to get worried when the door swung open.

I was greeted by a tousled Ed...still wearing the same clothes he had on for the drive yesterday. To be honest, he reeked of booze, and not in the sexy whiskey-coke-kiss way that we shared the other night on the beach. I heard bass thumping faintly from somewhere in the house, and it looked like most of the lights were off inside.

“Um, hi, love, whaddya got there?” He was leaned up against the door jam, clearly needing its support to stand. Nice.

“I just thought you might like to, ah, share a pizza? Is this a bad time?” I asked, offering him an out.

“Nope,” he said, popping that “p” sound like he was known to do. “Come on in.”

He beckoned me inside, turning and walking through the foyer, clearly moving slowly, trying to focus on his steps. I walked ahead of him toward the kitchen to set down the pizza boxes. The kitchen was in total disarray; empty, half-crushed beer cans littered the counters and filled the sink. There were ashtrays filled with cigarette butts, frozen burrito wrappers. To be honest, the place looked like a shit hole.

Ed stumbled into the kitchen, plopping down in one of the stools at the island. He put his head in his hands, staring down at the countertop.

“Kendra?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry that you are seeing me this way.” His voice was stone cold now.

“Is this why I didn’t know you were living here for two weeks before your friends came to visit? This is what you were doing?”

I folded my arms across my chest, feeling all of the joy and wonder and magic of the last two weeks slowly seep out in my deep exhale. This was a straight-up turn off. It was clear that he had been on a total bender, alone, since what? 30 hours ago when I dropped him off here after holding his hand in the car? This was like a totally different person. I could just walk away now, cut my losses. I had done this shit before, in a past life, and had no desire to repeat that history.

But then he looked up at me from his hands, tears in his bloodshot eyes. He looked utterly defeated. Where was the cackling, ginger-haired man child? Was this because of his friends leaving? I didn’t understand. I mean, you barely know him, no shit you don’t understand.

I made a decision then, straightening up and bringing my eyes up to meet his.

“Okay, we’re going to talk about this another time, but why don’t I get you a glass of water and some of this pizza? To be honest, I think you could stand to sober up a bit.”

He nodded solemnly. I turned back to the cabinet and pulled out a glass and a plate. I cracked open the pizza box, snagging a slice and taking a quick bite of it myself, then threw a couple slices on the plate and slid it in front of him. I walked over to the fridge, filling the pint glass with crushed ice and then filtered water. I began opening drawers, rummaging through their contents, trying to locate a straw. I spent three months as a bartender, once, where I learned that drunk people will always drink more water if they’re sucking it down through a straw.

I brought the glass of water over to him. He was eating the pizza, good. I set to work cleaning up the kitchen, turning a few lights on, clearing up the beer cans, booze bottles, and rubbish from the countertops. Another quick check in on Drunky McSheeran told me he was drinking his water, too, good.

I quickly took the trash out, and flitted back inside to open a few windows. It was cool outside and this place definitely needed some fresh air. I found the stereo that was on and switched it off. Ed was helping himself to some of the garlic bread, that was a good sign. It felt good to be productive at least. I wandered back over to Ed and sidled up in the barstool next to him, reaching over him to grab myself a piece of pizza.

He rested his hand on my thigh. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do allthis.” He stumbled over his words.

“Hey,” I rubbed small circles at the top of his back, “It’s okay. I got you.”

He dropped a pizza crust onto his plate and slurped down the rest of his water. “I think I should lie down,” he mumbled, “not feeling s’hot.”

“Okay, why don’t you lie down on the couch over here.” And in the meantime, I’ll locate a puke bucket.

He stood up from the counter and sauntered over to the couch, crawling on top of it and lying on his side. I opened his walk-in pantry and saw a stack of mixing bowls, grabbing the biggest one and taking it over to him.

“Here, Ed, in case you get sick…” I said, setting it on the floor beside his head.

For someone who had totally brought this on himself, I was kind of feeling bad for him now. He looked so small; curled up on the couch, hugging a throw pillow to his chest, in yesterday’s clothes.

I thought he at least deserved a proper pillow & blanket, so I took off upstairs to grab one from the bedroom. I located my supplies and headed back down to the couch, spreading the throw blanket over him. He was passed out already. That's probably for the best. I looked up at the clock; 6:30 PM. Well, this was not exactly how I thought I'd be spending my evening. I lifted his head to slip the pillow underneath, for support, but my hands lingered there in his curly red locks.

I sat down on the oversized chair adjacent to the couch, not knowing what to do next. I probably could go home, but what if he like, threw up in his sleep and choked or something? Not likely to happen, but it was still a possibility. I grabbed the TV remote and clicked it on, selecting Netflix from the tv menu and turning on Lost, Season 1, Episode 1. Ahhh, old faithful. This could keep me occupied for a while.

I must have dozed off too at some point, because I awoke with a start and it was now dark outside. I glanced up at the clock on the mantle, it was a little past midnight.

Ed's POV

I came to, but didn't open my eyes at first. Quick assessment: ok, I feel like shit, but nothing out of the ordinary for this kind of liver abuse. Fucking thirsty. Need water. Where am I?

I cracked my lids open then. No glasses, hmm..okay, I'm sure they were around. I was covered in a pale grey fleece blanket with a paisley design on it, and there was a feather pillow under my neck, but I was stretched out on the living room couch. What the? And then it all came flooding back. My heart sank. Kendra.

I sat up, and saw her then. Curled up in oversized chair, she was asleep with the TV remote in hand. To be honest, she looked adorable: messy bun all piled up on top of her head, no makeup, just a tee shirt and leggings on.

Oh, shit. Here I had gone on a dark & twisty, solo bender and this gorgeous girl had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I checked my surroundings. The pillow and blanket was definitely her doing. I'd slept in a lot worse conditions than just a couch while pissed up, God knew that. Next I spotted a large stainless steel bowl on the carpet beside the couch. Shit, I hope I didn't...

There were three bottles of water next to the bowl too, and I scooped one up, tossing the cap and drinking nearly the whole thing in one go. I turned and surveyed the kitchen next; gone were the piles of rubbish, and there were pizza boxes on the island countertop. That must have been Kendra's work too, because he had discovered earlier that no pizza joints delivered to this neighborhood in the off-season.

I felt a sick knot in my stomach, realizing what she must think of me now. Such a fuck-up. She must have wanted to share a slice with me, maybe cuddle up on the couch and finally talk about what had been going on between us, now that the rest of the group had gone home.

Instead she got this. I could just fucking picture it, here I am, reeking of sweat & shame, having just boozed & chain-smoked my way through the past 24+ hours.

She woke up, then, with a jump. I watched her eyes open, clearly also confused for a sec on where she was.

“Oh. Good morning, Sunshine,” she said, sarcasm just rolling.

“...hi…”

“Can't imagine you're feeling too hot. What, you slept for about 6 hours? Think you’re even below the legal limit yet?” Well shit.

“Shit, Kendra, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry you had to see me that way.” I didn't have an excuse to give.

“Yeah, you said that before. I mean, it's none of my business what you do really. I just didn't want you to choke on your own vomit and die.”

This girl took no prisoners. She was calling me out on my shit. Usually everybody around just put up with my antics, either because they were on my bankroll, or didn't want to offend me. It was honestly like a breath of fresh air.

“Look, Ed, I'm sorry -- that was harsh. I don't know you that well, and I have a feeling that you're dealing with some shit right now. I can't pretend to know what unique set of problems come with, being, well.. You...and Christ, I have a drink to relax or take the edge off after a long day, but that’s not what this is..”

She paused, closing her eyes for a minute, and looked back up at me.

“No,” I said, cutting her off. “There’s no excuse. You’re right.”

She got up from the chair and walked over to the kitchen island, reaching for her purse which was slung over the back of one of the barstools. I stood up from the couch and crossed the short distance to her.

“Wait, Kendra, please don't leave,” I felt like a real dick, asking her to stay, after she had already sat here most of the night watching over me, but I couldn't stand to see her go.

She stopped in her tracks, and turned toward me. “Why, Ed?”. Her big, almond-shaped mahogany eyes were looking straight up at me, pleading.

Shit. She knew, why, I'm sure. She wants you to say it out loud, you asshole.

“I...I really like you, Kendra.” Once the words spilled out of my mouth, I wondered why I hadn't said them before. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”

Those big eyes were looking up at me again.

Kendra’s POV

“Why are you here, Ed? You’re not on a leisurely vacation or spending your time off work with family. Why are you here in this house and not at home?” I was prying now.

He sighed. “....A couple of months ago, I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me. Like, not once or twice. She had an affair the entire time we were together. I finished up my Asia tour dates, thought I was holding it together just fine, but then work stopped for a while and I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore. I didn’t want to go back to England. I wanted to be by myself for a while,” He said, avoiding eye contact with me.

Oh, well that explains some things.

I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter, and walked over to take a seat on the couch. Ed followed suit, taking up the seat on the opposite end. I turned inward, my back up against the armrest, drawing my legs up into my chest. He remained seated forward, talking to the floor in front of him.

He went on. “I told myself I was coming here for ‘solitude’, but that’s not really the truth. I was coming here to wallow. And I did. But then my mates flew in, wanting to cheer me up, and my pissed up idiot friend spotted you from the kitchen window and immediately fancied you, so he invited you over. I was just trying to keep my distance. But as I got to know you, I couldn’t do that anymore.”

He looked at me then, sorrow contouring the lines of his handsome face.

“Honestly, it felt like a trick, to stumble upon you after that….disaster. I love music, I love my job, my life… but it’s not a normal life. Relationships need normal. It never works out for me. I’m away too much, or people see me as a way to get what they want. When I met you, here, it kind of felt like the Universe giving me a big F-U.”

Wow is he dropping some truth.

“You’re beautiful, and smart, and funny, and you’re so good at, like, everything. You’re independent and I’m envious of that. I can’t even be left alone for one day. You deserve better than me, Kenn.”

He finally fell silent.

“That’s not your call to make,” I spoke at barely above a whisper. My anger had totally dissipated. He was so raw, so honest with me. I felt like I owed it to him to be the same.

“Do you know why I’m here, Ed? This is my home, now, but when I came here two years ago, I was a total wreck.” His ears perked up now. “About a year prior to that, I was particularly pissed off after a long day of getting my ass handed to me at work. I stopped off at the store and bought a bottle of vodka and.. a powerball ticket. I tucked the ticket into the visor of my car and went home and drank at least half that bottle. But I won. I had every single number right and I won. A lot. It was amazing, at first, like living a dream. But within weeks, word got out and I had to change my phone number and shut off all of my social media accounts. Within months, I practically had a nervous breakdown, every single person in my life had their hands out and I wanted to give them everything they wanted, all of them, and I could have, but they weren’t there for me. I couldn’t handle it, so I just left. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone but my Mum. And that’s why I’m here. I can’t date; I can’t make friends. Once people find out what I have, it’s all they care about. I see it in their eyes.” I laughed, “You think I’m a strong, independent girl by choice? It’s because I’m the only person I trust. You have nothing to be envious about. It’s fucking lonely.”

God, it was like an anchor had been lifted from my chest. My eyes were stinging, welling up with tears. I fought them back.

He lowered himself from the couch to the floor and scooted over in front of me, wrapping his arms around my hips and laying his head down in my lap. We stayed like that for a few striking moments, not saying anything.

He sat back, withdrawing his arms.

“We're pretty fucked up, aren't we?” He said, out of nowhere. I couldn't help but burst out into laughter, nodding. Ed laughed along with me, too, his throaty cackle causing me to geek out even harder. We were delirious for a minute, like our bodies just needed to do something to shake up the feelings about what had just transpired. We both died down, falling silent again.

“What I feel for you is real, Kendra. I've never felt anything like it. I'm just drawn to you,” He squeezed my hand, those pretty blue eyes looking right into mine.

“I feel that way about you, too, Ed.”

“Then let's give this thing a proper go. I don't have much time left to spend here, maybe another six weeks, but I want to spend it with you. I want to do it right, too, take you on dates and spend hours talking until the sun comes up. I want to know everything about you.”

Gone was the defeated boy that lay here just hours earlier, this was a man, with resolve in his voice.

He went on, “I think, though, this means taking things slowly. I hope you understand. I want to do this right, Kendra, if you'll have me.”

I leapt down to the floor, pressing my body against his, holding him tightly. We kissed then; softly, sweetly, his hands coming up to cup my jaw.

Our lips broke apart. “Yes.”

It was the start of something beautiful.

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

Ed was back to his cheery self the day after our talk. He knocked on my door late-morning, a bouquet of fresh daisies in hand. He was wearing a dark chambray button-up shirt with a crisp white tee underneath, matched with black jeans and sneakers. He had a pair of aviators tucked into the top of his shirt. The effect was quite stunning.

“Hey, love, I got somethin’ for you,” he said cheekily, handing the flowers over and plopping a kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you! They're beautiful,” I brought them up to my nose to inhale the fresh floral scent. “Come in, I'm just finishing up in the kitchen.”

He kicked his sneakers off, abandoning them by the front door.

I quickly located a vase and cut the stems of the daisies, submerging them in water. My kitchen was a total mess, dirty pots and sauce pans and measuring cups strewn about, ingredients still sitting out on the countertop. It was my weekly ritual to prep a few meals and desserts for Augie, the captain who kept my boat tour business afloat, quite literally. I had met Augie at a dive bar over in Boothbay when I first moved here, and he and his wife kind of took me in. He was older, late sixties I think. We formed a fast friendship and he started taking me out on the water, teaching me how to pull up the big lobster pots, expertly navigating the harbor. He taught me to sail, too, though I wasn't comfortable going out too far without him. Augie had worked his whole life as a fishermen, having retired just before we met. He told me his dream had always been to run a boat company and well, I made it happen. He and his wife had showed me so much kindness, it was the best way to repay them.

“Sorry for the mess, I'm just making a few things to bring over to Augie for the week. I'm just about done and then I was going to run into town to drop this off for him.”

Ed had met Augie that first week when we went out whale watching. The two had hit it off instantly.

“That's sweet of you, love. What's the occasion?”

“Oh, his wife passed away last Spring, and I've been doing it ever since. They were married like, 45 years or something, and she did all the cooking before..” my voice trailed off.

“Here, let me give you a hand with this stuff,” he began clearing dishes off the counter. I wasn't about to argue, technically he did owe me from the day before.

I had an oldies station playing softly in the background. Together, we made a good team, Ed rolled up his sleeves and set to work washing dishes while I packaged up the different entrees I had prepared. Danny's Song was playing, and I heard Ed start to hum aloud. I couldn't help but smile.

Minutes later, he shut off the faucet and wiped down the counters. I stacked up all the containers in a big brown bag, threw in a bag of homemade cookies on the top, and with that, my care package was complete.

“Are you busy today?” I asked, “Do you want to run into town with me?”

“I am all yours. Let's go.” He wiped his hands and came over to kiss me, leaving a little taste of those delicious lips on my own.

I drove us into town, stopping first to drop the care package off at Augie's house. We cruised over to the harbor then, parking in the big lot and walking around downtown. I bought Ed his first whoopie pie, which he loved - such a sweet tooth, that one. We picked a few flavors and took a box to go.

He kept his sleeves rolled down and sunglasses on, but we were still stopped by a mom and a young girl on the sidewalk. Ed was so gracious, giving them both a hug and taking several silly selfies before saying good-bye.

We strolled down the boardwalk, hand-in-hand, stopping in some of the souvenir shops to see who could find the silliest item. We ended up leaving with matching Moose slippers and a few other knick knacks.

Hours had flown by like minutes. It was late in the afternoon, then, and neither of us had eaten lunch. We decided to grab a lobster roll & blueberry soda at one of the roadside stands.

“I really love it here,” Ed said, stuffing his face. “Would you be embarrassed if I ordered a second one? This is sooooo good.”

I laughed, “Go ahead babe, I don't blame you.” He walked back up to the order counter and was clearly charming the lady working, as I heard her laugh ringing out like a bell across the little gravel eating area.

He slid back into the picnic table bench with another sandwich. “What's next on the agenda, babe? Do you want to rent a movie to watch tonight?”

“Sure, there's a Walgreens up the road, we can hit the RedBox on the way home.”

We cleaned up from the buttery sandwiches as best as possible with moist towelettes, then headed back towards the car.

He let me pick the movie and we were on our way home, opting to watch at his place. Ed brought out a bottle of white wine, pouring two glasses and we snuggled in on the couch together to watch the flick. I finished mine, instantly feeling sleepy. Ed noticed right away and motioned me over to lie down with him, spooning on the couch. I shut my eyes just for a second and...

The first thing that registered was the feeling of calloused fingers brushing hair off of my forehead. I had this intense feeling of longing, like I had just been reaching for something just out of my reach, and then it was gone. Was I awake, or dreaming? I felt disoriented. Oh, holy shit. I fell asleep next to Ed on the couch...and he's still here.

“There she is,” he said with a sort of chuckle as my eyes opened and I assessed the situation. I was pretty sure I fell asleep as the little spoon, but now I was turned inward, facing Ed, our legs intertwined, my arms laced up and around him.

“Hi”, I said with a yawn.

“Some dream you were having, yeah?”

“Huh?” Ugh, my brain was foggy.

He cracked a smile, just a half grin, one side of his mouth tugging upward. His ocean blue eyes twinkled.

“I was just saying, you must have been having a great dream….you were, ah, a bit vocal in your sleep.”

Shit. I became acutely aware of the slight dampness between my legs. No….

“What? Did I say something? Oh my God, I am so embarrassed.”

“I wouldn't really call it talking...but there were a lot of adorable little mewing sounds..and, ah, little tiny moans…” he said, dropping the hard 't’ sound in little like he was prone to do.

I pulled my arms out from our cozy embrace and covered my eyes. How fucking embarrassing.

“Shit. I am mortified. I didn't even mean to fall asleep…”

He pulled my hands down from my face and planted a big kiss on my forehead.

“Don't worry about it. It was pretty adorable, actually.”

“How long was I out?”

“About an hour, I reckon.”

“I guess last night caught up with me. I never, ever fall asleep while the TV is on usually.” Nor do I normally dry hump someone's leg in my sleep, but I left that thought in my brain.

He closed his eyes, then, and his pretty pink lips came and landed on mine. He pulled my body in closer to his.

“What do you say we hit the hay, properly? This sofa isn't too comfortable. Let's go up to bed.”

“You want me to spend the night?”

“Yeah, well, if you want to? It's okay if you d--”

“No, it's ok, we can do that. I probably should run home and grab some PJ’s though.”

“Oh, you can borrow something of mine to sleep in, love, let's go upstairs.”

We untangled our limbs and got up from the couch. Ed clicked the television off and gathered up the empty wine bottle & glasses as I stretched my arms upward, and rolled my neck back and forth a bit, I was a bit stiff from the sofa.

“Want a glass of water for your night stand?” He asked.

“Yes please,” I replied.

“I'll get this then, why don't you head upstairs and find something to sleep in? Help yourself to anything.”

He deposited our stemware next to the sink, opened a cabinet, grabbed down two glasses, and strode over to the fridge and began to fill the first glass with ice. I turned and walked up the stairs, feeling the plush carpet between my toes. My stomach was in knots, my nerves kicking in. I really hadn't slept in bed with someone else in...shit, a long time? In the few short-lived relationships I had had, we always hung out at his place and I always went home, no matter how late it was.

But then again, I felt comfortable with Ed. Clearly. I was honestly still shocked that I had even fallen asleep with him downstairs on the couch. Very unlike me.

I pulled on the top dresser drawer, finding it stuffed full of boxer briefs. Hmm, okay. Next drawer was all tee shirts. I peeked at one of the labels, a size Medium. Probably not the best idea, I wanted something to cover my ass at least. I walked over to the large walk-in closet and pulled a soft, long sleeved flannel shirt in various shades of blue from a velvet hanger. I undid my jeans, shimmy-ing them off, and pulled my plain white tank top off over my head. I unclasped my nude bra and off that went too, I kicked my clothes up into a pile and shrugged on the flannel. It was just right, me being only 5’2, it came down to about mid thigh. The sleeves were a bit long so I cuffed them up once. I pulled together all the buttons, then thought twice and undid just the top two. I was wearing white lace boyshort panties, luckily, and not a thong.

Ed came in the bedroom door, “Solid choice, love, that's my favorite shirt. Not much use for it here in the blazing fucking heat, though, for me at least. Looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” I beamed. “Do you have a spare toothbrush by chance?”

“Um, I'm not sure… I'll check.” He set the glasses of water down on the dresser and headed into the bathroom. I could see him pulling drawers open at random, shuffling through each one's content. “I guess I don't, sorry. If it doesn't gross you out, you can use mine? I don't mind.”

Luckily I'm not a germaphobe. “That will be fine, thank you.” Ahem. So proper, all of a sudden. I joined Ed in the bathroom, standing in front of the sink while he wet the toothbrush and squeezed some Crest out for me. He handed me the toothbrush with a wink and I went to work on brushing. Meanwhile, he was back in the bedroom, turning on the gas fireplace. I lost focus on brushing, though, when I saw him strip down to just his boxers. Oh. Those knots were back in my belly again. I rinsed my mouth and tapped his toothbrush off, leaving it on the side of the sink

He came round to my side of the bed (“my side??” what the fuck, K) and pulled the corner of the white duvet back, patting the grey sateen sheets. “All set for you, love”.

I climbed up into the king sized bed, pulling the pretty duvet up to my chin. I watched Ed take up place in front of the bathroom sink and brush his teeth, too, it sounded like he was humming something. I couldn't take my eyes off of him; I hadn't seen him shirtless before and had no idea that his entire chest was covered in the same bright ink that danced up and down his arms. He finished up in the bathroom, switching the light off in there and then the bedroom, and walked around the bed to climb in the other side.

I flipped over to lie on my other side, facing him, and he stretched his arms out toward me, so I scooted closer. He wrapped me up in a tight embrace and inhaled deeply, nose buried in my hair.

“Mint shampoo? This smells nice.”

“Yeah, you guessed it.”

“Kendra?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for staying with me tonight.”

“Is it weird if I tell you I'm a bit nervous? I guess I'm just so used to sleeping alone. But.. I like this,” I said, tracing the outline of his shoulders and biceps with my fingers.

“I know what you mean. I feel that way too. Would you... if you want, you could call me Teddy, y’know.”

I reached up to his scruffy head of hair and twirled one of his curly copper locks between my fingers.

“Teddy,” I said, trying it out, “I like that.”

The fireplace was blazing on in the corner of the room. But that wasn't the only burn happening here. I felt that burn through every inch of my body, yearning for this man, here right in front of me. It was like, just being that physically close to him had lit a fire in me. A fire that hadn't burned in a long time.

I kissed him, then, hard and longingly. He was quick to reciprocate, pushing his tongue into my mouth, exploring. His hands came up my shirt but stopped at my waist, just grabbing and pulling me into him even closer yet. I took initiative and pushed him so that he was lying flat on his back, climbing on top and straddling him.

He broke our kiss. “Kenn,” it sounded like he was protesting. “I don't want, I mean, I didn't ask you to stay the night, expecting this..”

“Shhhh,” I sat upright now, directly at the top of his pelvis. The fireplace gave just enough light in the room that I could make out the brilliant tattoos on his chest. “I know, Teddy,” I said, tracing the outline of the great lion’s mane. “Do you want me to stop?” Damn girl, you bold.

He was wide eyed, looking up at me in the glow of the flames.

“No.”

I leaned back down and planted a messy, fast kiss on his perfect pink lips. I then moved to his earlobe, leaving a little bite there and sucking it before moving back to his mouth. I could feel his bulge growing hard beneath me, and his hands were roaming my body freely now, grabbing onto my hips and giving me the friction I so desperately wanted.

“Will you sit up a bit for me?” I asked at a whisper, grabbing a pillow and tucking it behind him. His torso was propped up a bit now, those delicious lips even closer to me. His hands moved from my hips and up the hem of his soft flannel shirt, fingers grazing over my stomach and floating up to my waist.

“Can I unbutton this?” He asked.

I nodded, biting my lower lip. Hearing him ask that out loud had my blood just absolutely buzzing.

He started with the bottom button, moving ever so fucking slowly, up, up to the top. The valley between my full breasts just barely exposed. He took my right hand with both of his and slid it out of the cuff, tugging down gently to free my arm. The flannel shirt fell away from my right shoulder then and he quickly repeated the process on the other side.

My breasts were fully exposed now, I could feel those little sensitive buds beginning to harden under his intentful gaze. He brought his hands up to them, cupping them, so gently. He brushed his thumbs over my nipples simultaneously, sending a lightning rod through the nerves of my body right down to my core. His fingers expertly rubbed, and skimmed, and tugged, while my mouth fell open with barely-audible moans spilling out.

My hips were acting of their own accord, grinding out big circles over his pelvis. I could feel his rock hard cock so easily through my lace boyshorts and the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Teddy,” I closed my eyes and tilted my head back.

He took his hands from my breasts then, placing one on the small of my back and wrapping the other one behind my shoulder, pulling me down to him. He kissed me, hard, on the mouth, breathlessly muttering “You are so beautiful,” and proceeded to cover my whole neck with kisses, moving down my chest, planting those warm, wet lips on every square inch of my tanned skin. He brought his hands up to the indent of my waist and then took a breast into his mouth, expertly sucking and twirling and nibbling over my hard nipples. Another moan escaped my lips as he moved his mouth to the other breast, quickly using his hand to replace where his lips had just been.

Fuck, this boy was good with his fingers. And mouth. And oh, he's pushing back up into my pelvis now as I'm spreading circles over his. I am so aware of my slick wetness down there. Ed finishes sucking on my hard nipple and brings his lips up to meet mine, opening my own mouth with his skilled lips and tongue, a soft moan spilling out of his mouth this time.

I sit back up, pushing off of his sexy, strong chest and straddling him properly again. For a moment, his eyes just glare into my own and I can almost see him thinking, considering his next move or searching for the right words to say.

“Penny for your thoughts, sir?” I say, half teasing, half really curious as to what's going on behind those beautiful baby blues.

“I'm... just.. thinking about how it was my idea to take this slowly, and now you're practically naked in my bed, on top of me... panties soaking wet,” He brushed his thumb over the sheer fabric of my panties, right over my slit. “and you're so fucking beautiful, and cool, and now I want to do anything but take it slow.”

“Oh.” Yup. I got nothin'.

“I want to do right by you, Kendra, but I so badly want to make you feel good, right now, too.”

My heart like, basically just stopped. I must have looked like deer in the headlights, I could see the worry growing in his eyes every second that I was silent. He openened his mouth again, probably to apologize, but I quickly put a stop to that by bringing our lips together, yet again, trying to put all of my feelings into a single kiss, like some unspoken conversation, and I think Ed felt the same way too. He rolled to the side and, hands on my hips, guided me to lie flat on the mattress, his heavenly fucking body coming on top of mine.

His weight on me felt so good, so right. His mouth is everywhere, biting my ears, suckling on my neck, planting wet kisses all over my decolletage.. my hands come up and grip is muscular back, trying to touch every square inch of him to me. I'm moaning now, freely, as his hands grip up and down my body from my breasts, to my hips, up to my waist, over my stomach, and travel back downward, Ed shifting his whole body down towards my center, leaving kisses the entire way.

My entire body felt fucking electric.

Ed sat back on his heels, gently pulling my pelvis up into his lap, kind of at an upwards angle. Holy shit. He traced the outline of my panties, fingers dancing over the edges. He looks up to me, like he's waiting for the green light, and I nod my head, yes, it’s all I could muster.

He reached back to grab my ankle, bending my leg and bringing it forward, leaving little kisses all up and down my calf in the process. Putting that foot down flat on the bed, he took in my other ankle and does it all over again. I am silently whimpering at this point, the anticipation just fucking killing me. I have never been this turned on and he’s barely even touched me.

He hooked his fingers around the elastic of my panties and lifted my ass a bit, peeling away the white lace fabric from my body. My panties were stuck around my thighs now, as he picked up my left knee, threading the panties off around my foot, and wrapping my leg around his waist. Once more, same on the other side, I watched him tuck my ankle snugly around him, finally free of the last piece of fabric covering me. I tightened my grip on his torso a bit and heard a little groan escape his lips. He scratched the top of my thighs lightly, and brought his hands up to cover my lower belly, his thumbs just barely resting on my mound.

There was something so sensual about it… just barely enough light in the room for me to watch him, gazing so intently down there, at me. He moved one of this thumbs down to the bottom of my wet slit, dragging upward so slowly, barely dipping in, opening me up just a bit... and with that, it was fucking real, and suddenly the logical side of my brain turned on, realizing that I could count on one hand the number of times that I’d actually been able to come from someone else stimulating me. I froze.

“Teddy,” I choke out. “Wait.”

His pretty pink lips were parted, still staring straight down. He stopped immediately, bringing his gaze up to mine.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to… I, um, I have a hard time.. getting there.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Kenn, that doesn’t matter to me,” Another beat passes. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” I answer, without thinking.

He swept down to kiss me, no tongue, his lips just pressing up against my own. He brushed the hair off of my forehead, his chest covering my own, and I couldn’t get over the feel of his skin on my skin. He moved his mouth over to the side of my faced and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got you, love.”

I wrapped my fingers up in the tousled locks on the back of his head, pulling his forehead to my own, staring up into those endless eyes. I nodded again, giving him a non-verbal yes.

He sat back on his heels again, making direct eye contact with me, biting his bottom lip, and shifted his gaze back down to my glistening nether regions.

He laid one hand flat on my pelvis, kind of grounding me. And then that thumb was back on my slit, dipping in, running bottom-to-top, again and again, deliriously slowly. I pushed my pelvis up towards him, my body reacting on its own, seeking friction. Ed added another finger into the mix, slipping further into my folds. It was both torture and bliss; his almost-rough fingertips just exploring me so patiently. I watched him watching himself touch me and holy fuck that was such a turn on, I thought about feeling self-conscious about it, but the horny side of me won that battle out pretty quickly.

His thumb came up to the top of my slit and rubbed slow circles in one direction, then back the other way. I grabbed fistfuls of sheets on either side of me and rocked my hips up towards Ed again. “Mmm, more, baby,” I muttered. He smirked then, and sunk his perfect middle finger all the way inside me.

I flexed my feet out, toes curling in, taking in the sight of this sexy man, all strong shouldered and rainbow design. Ed switched hands, removing his left from my pelvis and sinking his thick thumb into my opening, and picking up the rhythm on my clit again with his right hands, small circles and then bigger ones and back to small, all clockwise now.

“God, you are so fucking sexy,” Ed muttered as he slipped another finger inside me, picking up the tempo a bit and adding a little twist into his movements.

He was so steady, unwavering, so focused on what he was doing, and I bucked my hips up and pointed my toes and felt a faint warmth building low in my body.

I closed my eyes, letting my head fall to the side. “Fuck,” I whined, “just like that, yeah,” The warmth was building, Ed's fingers slipping in and out of my wet opening in perfect time with that rhythm he was playing in circles over my clit, he had me balanced out on this precipice of pleasure. The warmth was turning into a dull ache now, my back arched, and Ed was right there with me.

He sped up his rhythm just a tick and it intensified everything. “Baby…” I groaned out,  turning my eyes back to see him watching my face now, biting on his lower lip again. Fuck.

He switched to a 'come hither’ motion, then, stroking my walls in just the right spot, and I fell over the edge instantly. I cried out, contorting my torso, squeezing my legs around his waist, still holding onto the sheets with my small fists for dear life.

I rode out the small aftershocks, stunned, and loosened the grip I had on Ed with my legs. I looked up to see the Smirk™ plastered across his face. He set my pelvis down, slipping out of his sat-back position and came to lie down next to me, threading his arms around me and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. I was still practically panting.

“That was… so good, Teddy, I can't believe I --”

“You are incredible, woman, come here.” and he nuzzled in closer, pulling the duvet back over our bodies. I turned to lie on my side, letting him be the big spoon again. I was very aware of his penis, hard, against my back. I wanted very much to make an introduction, but before I knew it, my heavy lids closed and sleep took me once again.