#i finally realized where i know lou from and it blew my mind

[blueberrypossum]

A Date Down Under (GN Reader x Leo)

OH MY GOSH IT’S BEEN FOREVER SINCE I’VE POSTED!!

If you guys are wondering where I’ve been I write more on A03 with two original fanfics in the making! But, my tumblr account deserves some love too! This fanfic has been siting in my file for a long while and I originally wanted to post it when I was deep in the ROTTMNT fandom (still love it and miss it man). So, I decided to take out my oc in it and make it a reader fanfic so everyone can enjoy!  @bootyyy-shaker9000 ​ I know how much you love Leo so have some of the wonderful boy in blue!!

When Leo asked you if you wanted to celebrate your Friend Anniversary in the Lost City, you couldn’t refuse. 

 The feelings for the turtle though were getting tougher and tougher to maintain. Leo was always the flirt, and you tried to not let him play with your heartstrings, but now a blush would creep around your face whenever he would fire a one-liner or when he would push the physical contact to the extreme. 

You weren't used to so much affection, nor letting the addiction of being touched take over you like a drug. 

But you have seen the way Leo fake flirts with others, and just believed that he was just doing the same thing to you, because you were just friends, right? 

You were brushing your comb through your hair when your phone started to vibrate on your desk. You brought it up to your ear as you got comfortable in your seat.

“Hello?”

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

There were a few knocks on your bedroom window.

“Me.”

You giggled and walked over to the window and pulled back the blinds to see the one and only Leonardo Hamato, a sly grin on his face as he hung up on the phone. You placed your phone into your pocket and unlocked the window to reveal yourself to him. 

The blue bandana turtle looked a little taken aback as he took in the sight of his best friend. With the season turning colder, you wore something that suited the chilly wind yet sunny season, the cloth clinging to you gently. What caught him off guard the most was the dazzling smile you presented to him, the pure excitement of seeing him causing his bandana to feel tight around his head. 

Leo almost lost his balance as he hopped into your room, sweat growing on him as he tried to find anything else to look at other than you.

“Hey, how's your fever?” He asked, his voice drowned with no confidence, his heart still pounding as he finally glanced over. 

You were picking up your bag and you frowned at the question.

“Hum? What fever?” 

“Oh, yeah, you just look hot to me,” he replied, pressing a confident smile on his lips as he hoped that you didn’t catch him almost slipping up. 

Your cheeks went pink and you playfully slapped his arm.

“Oh hush up and let’s go, we’re burning daylight.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s burning.”

“Oh my gosh, get going, Red Kamon.”

The tall turtle chuckled and pulled out his sword, swiping it around the room until a portal was created. Leo moved to the side and bowed his head towards you. 

“After you,” he purred and you rolled your eyes at him and took a step into the portal and was led right at the center of the Hidden City. The colorful and mysterious city was weird to say the least, nothing but weird creations and magic lingered in the air as yokai walked past you. Leo stepped through the portal and was at your side as you both walked over to the city map. 

Leo used your shoulder as a rest while you gazed over at the map.

“Where do you want to go, shorty?” He asked as your eyes scanned the different areas and pointed towards the Witch Town.

Your mind seemed clouded from the close contact and you pointed to the spa.

“What about here? Sounds interesting.”

“Can’t do. My idiot and less attractive twin got us turtles banned there,” Leo commented and soon his arm snaked around your neck and was completely over your shoulders, bringing you close enough that you could feel his breath over your cheek. 

“What about here?”

“Nope. They banned me there.”

“How did you get banned from a spa?”

“My dashing good looks were just too much for them.”

You let out a gust of air and knew the real reason, Donnie told you the whole funny scenario of Leo needing hair to get into the spa, totally backfired and threw him in jail. 

“What places are you not banned from, blue?” You asked, turning over to him with your arms crossed. 

He gave you his signature smile and leaned down till you were face to face, his beak just a few inches from your nose. 

“Here, just those two places. Your heart? Never.”

“Then what about the Pirate Bazaar?” You mumbled, your heart almost leaping out of your chest as Leo’s eyes widened with excitement.

“Ohhh, I’ve been there! But only for a little bit, let’s go!” He squealed and took your hand and led you through the crowd of animals and other subjects of yokai. His three-fingered hand was cold against your warm one, and you knew Leo and his brothers like closeness to you and April since you were the only warm-blooded creatures; Splinter was too but hugs were hard to get from him. Still, the hand holding made others look over and gush at you two, as if you were a couple. 

If only.

He didn’t let go as he took you into lesser crowds, bringing you closer till your arms were touching. You then realized he wasn’t wearing an outfit, but then remembered most of the yokai’s were clothesless as well. His muscles bounced as he walked and you had to do everything to not wrap your fingers around the growing muscle. 

STOP STOP STOP THINKING LIKE THIS! HE DOESN’T LIKE YOU LIKE THAT!

His thumb started to brush against yours as he turned to you and you swore you saw a red dash against his cheeks, and it wasn’t his stripes.

“You’ve been friends with me for a whole year! Please, do tell how great it must’ve been to be called my best friend,” he said slyly, wiggling his non-existent eyebrows, causing you to laugh. The joyous melody made Leo weak in the knees.

“You mean, me always having to save your shell from dangerous bad guys, having to endure all your jokes, and then the constant-CONSTANT- marathons of Jipiter Jim and Lou Jitsu to the point all I could do was speak quotes from the movies.”

“Oh yeah, may I remind you that you would text me excited about every movie date? Didn’t someone make their signature hot chocolate just for me when I showed this specific someone their now favorite movie? Ring any bells?” He replied back.

“Pffts, you know what? Your one-liners stink.”

The sword yielding turtle let out a gasp and grasped where his heart would be over his plaston as if he had been shot as he looked down at you. 

“My one-liners stink like Raph’s victory stink!”

You laughed and took back his hand and Leo felt his heart flew as your warm hand was gripping onto his cold one. You took the lead and finally made it to the entrance of the pirate grounds. There were booths of stuff that were related to the pirate theme of the area and some were just random selections of things to sell. The smell of seafood and other fried foods drifted into your nose and you led Leo to the entrance. 

After getting Lost City Cash at a money machine, you both took a selfie at the front entrance, Leo bringing you close and him having to lean down due to your height.  

There was a goblin looking woman in the booth at the entrance and the woman took your money and gave each of you a bracelet to get on rides and such. 

“For an extra 20 dollars, you can have a custom pirate outfit that you can switch on and off with ease,” she explained and you and Leo shared the same look, giving the worker a simple nod. She pointed to where single bathrooms were after she got the money.

“Last one there is a rotten turtle egg!”You challenged out as you raced over to the bathroom stalls, the mutant turtle schoffing and charging after you.

With a little bit of magic, you were able to think up your very own pirate outfit with a second band around your wrist so that you could switch it off and on with ease. Leo picked the same outfit he had when he first came to the pirate utopia with Hueso, but didn’t pick an eyepatch this time since he didn’t want to trip in front of you. 

You quickly raced out of the changing room after saying thank you to the worker who helped you and looked around, your eyes trying to find the mutant turtle in the crowd. You spotted the long strands of his bandana and felt yourself shudder at how good he looked in a pirate outfit, how the white shirt clung to him and how he had his sword hung against his side instead of over his back. You swallowed the saliva that was swimming in your mouth and quickly dashed over to him, clearing your throat before you spoke in the worst pirate accent. 

“My, my, isn’t ye the best booty I’ve ever seen in these vast oceans!”

The red slider turtle quickly turned around but you moved out in front of him.

“Aye, wanna shiver me timbers?” You laughed, throwing another one-liner at him and he turned, his eyes going wide as he almost told you that if you were a pirate, you would be the most beautiful treasure that no man or woman could handle or capture. If you were a pirate he could definitely walk the plank. 

“Those jokes are so lame, that they need a peg leg,” he replied, almost hating himself fully for using one of Huesos jokes instead of his own. But you flashed him a smile anyway and motioned him to follow as you made your way through the crowd. 

The teenage turtle felt his heart leap after you and gave chase as you made it to the center of the pirate theme park. 

Once in the middle, you pulled out the map the woman at the booth gave you and started to read over the activities that you could do. 

Leo leaned down close, still a little out of breath, but his confidence had awoken him as he said: “Ya certainly put a shiver in my timber!” he said in a deep pirate accent. You booped his beak away from your face and he blew a raspberry on the index finger.

“So, there is a treasure adventure we can go on, a booth section of stuff to buy, a pirate show of a reenactment of pirate history-Oh! They have timed dances throughout the area! And you can join in!” 

“Are you going to join in?”

“Maybe. I could finally dance with someone who doesn’t only do fortnite dances and dabs.”

“Hey, my moves are almost like a work of a pirate ship.”

“Old and needs remodeling?”

“What?! No! Unique and cool.”

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arm around Leo’s and led him to the show since it was the closest. 

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

You stood on the pier as ships and flying creatures dashed by, the glowing lights of the underworld turning into a creamy orange to signify that the day was coming to an end. You leaned your arms over the railing as you scrolled through the photos that had been taken throughout the day. You couldn’t help but smile at seeing your goofy pictures and would scroll past the ones you took specifically of Leo without him knowing. 

Speaking of the turtle, he leaned in close to your shoulder as he noticed that your attention was not on him.

“Whatcha lookin at?” He asked, his head slowly getting closer. You felt your body grow warm and quickly turned your phone. 

“Bruh,” you giggled and he gave a quiet chuckle and tried to snatch the phone. 

“If you’re looking at something, then as your best friend I have a right to see.”

“Fine, hang on.”

You quickly saved the single photos of him into a secret file and moved the phone between them, his head still on your shoulder as he scrolled through the photos, both of you laughing at the one where you fought the pirates and failed. 

“What about you? I know you took photos of today for your social,” you commented as you placed your phone into your bag. 

Leo took out his phone and hid it out of sight since his home screen was a picture of them together at an abandoned skatepark and he had you in a piggyback ride and he just had to capture the moment. He handed his phone without thinking and started to go through your bag due to boredom.

You scrolled through the photos until you stopped at a specific one. You didn’t remember him telling you to pose for this photo; it was when you had stopped to eat dinner and you happened to watch one of the kids getting a fake pirate hook from a vendor. Your head was supported by your hand as a breeze caused your hair to ripple around your face in an alluring photo. A blush rushes to your face as if you had been hit and soon you started to scroll faster and found more photos of just you; of you waiting in line, in your pirate outfit, several were taken of you during the pirate treasure hunting, when you grabbed a candle from one of the booths in excitement, he even got a cliche photo of you holding his hand while you led him through the crowd. 

You felt your heart stop in your ribcage and looked over at the ninja turtle, who was still looking through your bag as if he was hunting for treasure. You didn’t want to snoop, but you couldn’t help but exit out of his camera roll and looked through his folders on the right side; there was a folder for comic books, shopping, epic moments, even a puns list, then found it at the bottom. It was labeled with a first letter of your name and a heart, and with twitching fingers, you opened it. It wasn’t many photos but enough to where you almost dropped his phone into the water below. There were pictures of you whenever you both hung out, and some he probably got from your social. 

Holy Hot Soup, he liked you.  

“Okay, now you really look like you have a fever,” Leo commented as he reached for his phone, causing you to swallow and quickly turned off the device and handed it back to him.

“But don’t worry, Doctor Neon Leon will help you get all better,” he said in a baby voice and wrapped his arm around you and brought you close. 

“Maybe you need some Vitamin ME,” he whispered and you laughed at yet another ridiculous one-liner made by him. He grinned at the sight of you laughing and rested himself against your side, taking in your scent and warmth. 

“Maybe I do, where do I get my prescription Aka Kamon?” You asked slyly, a shit eating grin on your face as Leo blushed. Whenever you could, you would fire back a one-liner and was overjoyed to see him be the one to get flustered and a stuttering mess. 

“ Oh, um, well,” he stuttered and mentally kicked himself as he couldn’t think of something to say back and then a question he always wanted an answer to.

“Are you ever going to tell me what those words mean?” He asked. 

“Are you ever going to open a book and find out for yourself.”

“Ha! Jokes on you, I don’t know how to read. And also, there are phones now, boomers.”

“Then look it up.”

“JuSt GiVe Me A hInT.”

You released a sigh and gave him a look while he returned to you his huge puppy dog eyes look and placed his hands together as his bottom lip wobbled as if he was trying to get out of trouble. 

“Finnnne, but only because it’s our best friend’s day.”

You poked the red stripe against his face and then pointed upward, a smirk growing on your face as he gave a confused one.

“WHAT KIND OF HINT IS THAT??”

“A pretty good one in my opinion.”

The red slider turtle let out a large groan as he crossed his arms, his face growing tight as he tried to think of what the hint meant. 

“Are you just calling me stripes but in Japanese?” He said with a groan. 

“Leo you insult me, it would be kind of stupid to call you stripes in both English and Japanese.”

He mimicked your talking right as you finished and he received an eye roll as he continued on thinking.

 So, it wasn’t the stripes, maybe the color? Or the shape?

“Man, this is hurting my brain, this best friend day sucks.” He said as he stuck his tongue out at you.

“Okay, okay. The two words are a color and a shape. Is that better?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

You continued to watch as Leo tried to put the pieces together and you wished you could get this on video, but it would be too obvious, so instead you painted it into your mind. 

“So, the color is totally red, but the shape I’m lost at. Why did you point at the sky? Is that a clue? Why did you make this so difficult?”

“Because I’m a difficult person.”

“I do like a challenge.”

“One more hint, it’s the shape of something in the sky.”

Leo looked up at the fake Lost City sky and squinted as the fake sun started to set and the moon would start to rise. 

“Red Moon?”

“Close. It’s Red Crest.”

The blue bandana turtle searched the horizon for an answer for why you called him that as you looked away due to embarrassment. 

“Why?” He simply asked as he looked over; he could always tell when you were nervous, your eyes would always dart around and your left foot would start to shake. You rose to a tallen stance though and looked over at his hands.

“I just find your marks...alluring. In Japanese culture, the red moon is respected due to its power. I just thought you deserved to have a nickname that represented you.”

Leo felt his face go completely red that it could put Raph’s mask to so much shame that it would go bland. All this time he thought you were just calling him something insulting in Japanese, but it was a nickname that you made up for him. Not like Raph’s, Donnie’s, Mikey’s or April’s, it was one you made up for him and only him. 

“Stop looking at me before I throw you off this dock so I can live the rest of my life without this embarrassment,” you laughed nervously as your fingers combed through your hair and let out a shaky breath. 

Leo started to get his little shakes as he let out a confused laugh. 

“All this time I thought you were calling me a stupid turtle or somethin in Japanese, whoa oh boy was I wrong.”

You both looked away from each other and the atmosphere became heavy. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, I still don’t know, you thought, but then you felt his finger poke your elbow and looked over at him, and the soft expression on his face almost made you melt.

“But how can I stop looking at you?”

Your breathing immediately hitched.

“Are you blushing? It’s a good feeling to know that I do it.”

You could only cover your face as you leaned against the railing on your elbows and looked between your fingers at him. You hated being so flustered up, but with Leo dripping with confidence, it made you want to curl into a muttering mess. 

Leo watched you with amusement and went to touch you, but then fell back. He remembered how he started the physical touch between you two, holding your hand, always leaning on you, every movie night you would be his cushion. But you two couldn’t kiss, couldn’t cudde too close, he couldn’t tell you he loved you more than just a best friend.  

 He hated how the day went by so fast and now he wanted to do what he has wanted to do for months. But he couldn’t work up the courage, he had a ton of one-liners to ask you out, to ask if you returned the feelings, even though he was mutant turtle that lived in the sewer and fought enemies that could destroy the whole world and wholly Ōdachi he can’t ask you to be a part of that life. 

But, the way you would smile at him and how you always gave him credit for the growth into someone you wanted to be. How you saw something in him that he didn’t even see, and he wanted to keep being whatever you saw. 

He just wanted you.

So, he worked up the courage, tried to make the sweat stop rolling down his body, and looked at person he had fallen for

“Y/N.” 

You tensed up, you had never heard Leo sound so serious in his life. 

“Yeah?” 

“With this being.....I mean if I’m wrong. Would you consider this a date-date?” He spilled out, and he wanted to climb into his shell like Mikey and never come out. He let out a gust of air and didn’t look over at you, his fingers messing within each other. It was silent between you, the city life buzzing around them as yokai’s came and went. You wanted to scream out in joy and say yes a hundred times, but you also had to be careful, along with if Leo was being a bubbly mess, you wanted to take advantage of it as long as you could. 

Spotting a red and blue flower with a bright yellow center growing on the side of the deck, you wrapped your fingers around it and pulled it from its roots. To Leo’s surprise, you pushed your way under his arm until it was back over your shoulders. The blush on his face was noticeable and with being against his chest you noticed his uneven breaths. 

“I do. And I would like more of them, if you want to.” You answered and handed him the flower. He shakenly took the flower in his hand and his confidence came crashing back to him, knowing that the feeling was mutual. As quickly as you gave him the flower he leaned over and placed the flower over your ear. Your eyes widened with surprise and quickly averted them away, a nervous but sweet chuckle escaping your lips. But the Red-eared slider never averted his gaze away from you. 

“I would like that too,” he answered back. 

You both stood there for a while, your head curled into Leo’s chest as his own head rested on yours. You were used to being close, but this was different, this filled you up with knowing and it made the physical connection much more warmer and scarier. Little lights started to flicker around as the city started to get dark, even with no sun or moon. Leo brought you closer and buried his face into your hair, a long sigh escaping his lips in content, his mind slowing down for once and just taking in this moment.

 But the moment went quicker than expected as a low yawn escaped your mouth and the red slider turtle remembered that it was getting late. 

“Alright, sleepy head, I think it’s time to raise anchor and set sail for home,” he joked as he lifted himself off of you and then held out his hand. With a roll of your eyes, you gladly took it and let him lead you back to the entrance of the Pirate Bazaar. He could just use his sword, but he wanted to juice out every moment with you.

The hand hold was different in some way, you gripped his hand tighter and when he came to a stop you would use your other hand to lightly touch his biccup before continuing on. 

You gave the booth teller their costume bracelets back and walked a few feet ahead before Leo pulled out his sword and created a portal. 

He once again bowed his head as he moved to the side. 

“After you.”

Through tired eyes she gave him a smirk as she was halfway through the portal. 

“Thank you.” 

He followed you through the portal and took the step onto your apartment’s fire escape, the flashing lights of New York City spilling over your side as you opened your bedroom window;  throwing your bag inside before turning to Leo. You both turned to each other and then quickly averted eye-contact with each other. 

“I had a lot of fun today, Leo. Thanks for being a good fri-” you stopped yourself since you didn’t know if you two were still just friends, or more.

He let out a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, chief, it was,” Leo said  and then let out a groan at the terrible execution.

 You knew that you had to make the first move now or else you both would accidentally place yourselves into the “friend zone”.

 “Leo, can you bend down a little bit?”

“Why? Tired of being the only short one?”

“You can say that.”

He bent down till he was on your level, a smug smile on his lips. You let out your form of a chuckle as you curved your fingers under his chin. The teenage turtle instantly felt weak in the knees and thought that his legs would give out from under him and became a stuttering mess as you both made eye-contact. 

“Um, haha, is it hot or did you know that, uhh,” he mumbled as you tilted his head to the side and placed a small kiss against his red stripe, instantly making his whole body, for once in his life, burning. 

Your lips were soft against his skin and he stood there as you leaned away and climbed back into your room. 

“Goodnight, Leo,”you mumbled, your hands shaking against the window. 

“N-night.”

You closed the window and walked away while Leo stood there, his mind racing a hundred miles an hour. He got a kiss from you, from you. He never felt so much adrenaline rush through his body and all he wanted to do was go back in time so he could’ve moved his lips over. 

He took a step towards the window and then took that step back. What should he do? What could he do? Were you both dating now? Or were you two at the very edge of the line of a relationship?

He wanted to call his brothers or April for advice, especially since she would slap some sense into him. His shakes were coming back.

He let out a grunt and rubbed his eyes as he tried to decide what to do. He looked back at the window and saw that you had turned on your lights. He walked up to the window and knocked.

You had just gotten out of the bathroom when you heard the light tap against your window and your heart started to race faster than it already was. You were already shaken up by having enough courage to kiss him but if that was him then what if he didn’t want the kiss?

The knock came again and you took a few deep breaths before you moved the curtain aside and there he was, his face all flustered up as he gave a small wave as she opened the window. 

“Yes?” You questioned as you leaned your hands over the window seal. You hoped that the silky night of the sky hid your flustered face.

“I honestly didn’t think this far ahead,” he spilled out as he let out a nervous laugh as he leaned against the window. 

You looked up at him and Leo blinked several times in wonderment at the startled expression that crossed your face. Leo took a deep breath and gave you his signature shit-eating grin.

“Knock knock.”

“Wow, you’re doing jokes in the same place now are ya?”

“Just do the joke.”

You giggled and fluttered your eyes mockingly at him.

“Can I who?”

“Who’s there?

“Can I?”

“Can I...Can I kiss you?”

Even though it was a terrible joke, you felt like you could throw up all of your guts for how fast your heart rate was. Kissing him on the cheek was a challenge but at least you didn’t have to worry about his lips against yours. Do turtles have lips? Or beaks?

The word yes slipped out before you had a second thought. 

Before you knew it, Leo’s hands were slipping into your own, the tip of your fingers shaking but Leo reinsured you with a stroke of his thumb  You looked up at him and was taken aback at how handsome he was, how his stripes glowed in the moonlight and his blue bandana flew behind him as he leaned down. 

Oh you were glad he didn’t have his lips puckered or drool hanging out of his mouth like in the cartoons. 

Swallowing any other signs of panic that were trying to build in your body as you leaned in. 

The city of New York continued on around you both as the kiss ended; it was soft and sweet, not a full one, but it left both of you speechless. You felt as if your stomach was falling apart and Leo thought he could slip off the stairway. He was still holding your hands before you both departed, but with your free hands, you grabbed his face and brought him in once again. The red slider turtle’s eyes went wide as moons as this kiss much more, more than he could ever dream of. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist and slightly lifted you up, burying his face into yours under the moonlight. He tangled himself around you as your hands wrapped around his neck and Leo felt his stomach flip at the actions. Your shirt was warm against his chest and he tried to focus in on that instead of the worry of messing this up. He leaned more down as his hand slipped into the back of your neck. Due to the lack of experience, the kiss was sloppy and messy and anxiety swam between the connection between the two of you. 

But it was a tender memory of a kiss between the two of you, to remember as your first. 

You both finally separated, your chest heaving as you tried to get your feelings under control. His arms were still wrapped around you and your hands had slipped down onto his plaston, the hard material rising and falling under your fingers. Leo felt himself lean back, the shock setting in that he just had his first kiss and it was that deep and romantic and that….

The teen turtle felt his shell bump against the railing and you quickly latched onto him to stop him from falling, a horse laugh coming out of your mouth. 

“Guess you can say that you’re falling for me?” You asked, Leo knew now that he had to have a fever for how hot his face felt. He let out a few breathless laughs as he tried to calm himself down, longing and fear still lingering in his heart. 

All he could do was pull you into a hug and whisper out, “I just want to stay here and kiss and hold you and Y/N I can't feel my heart.”

He buried himself into your neck as he once again slightly picked you up, hoping that your warm body would calm him down, but the organ in his chest raced on as you hugged him back, your arms barely going around his shell. 

“Leo, will you be my boyfriend?”

My boyfriend. My boyfriend. My boyfriend. My boyfriend.

The words rang in his head like chimes as he slightly pulled away to look at her, the harsh blush on her face giving him an ego boost as he grinned at her. 

“Being called a boyfriend, eh? Neon Leon already has so many cool names, but boyfriend is probably the best name to be called, especially if it’s only you saying it.”

“Probably? I guess I should just give the boyfriend title to someone else, then.”

“What?! No, no, no. I already called it, I’m your boyfriend capiche? Now come here.” He pulled you into a tight hug and gave you a little spin, a laugh escaping your throat as you held on.

“Leo! We can fall, and my back cannot handle cement like yours!” 

[tommodirection]

Little Sister

Harry Styles x Tomlinson! Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: swearing, playful mentions of Larry

Masterlist

A/N: Heylo! I hope you enjoy this! I’ve been working on this for about a month now, never being able to finish it, but I decided to sit down and finish it tonight instead of wallowing in self-pity! The Larry mention at the end is meant to be funny and playful, not something to take seriously! Thank you and have a nice day! ❤️💕🥰

—

When your brother went to audition for the X-Factor in 2010, you expected him to come home after, maybe with a signed record deal, maybe not, but home nonetheless.

Instead, he was put into a boy band with four other boys, and moved out. Your mother was proud, of course as anyone would be, but that also meant her oldest child had left the nest.

That left you, now the oldest in the house, and your four younger sisters. Your mum was handling it the best she could, but with Mark out of the house constantly, it got stressful for her.

You didn’t like Mark that much, sure, he was nice, and he treated your mother alright, he just didn’t seem like a commitment kind of guy to you.

You were adopted shortly after your mum left Louis’s father. Mark was accepting of the fact that she already had two kids, but became a bit offended when she took your side in an argument instead of one of their kids.

You loved all your siblings equally, well, Louis a bit more than the other girls, but you still loved them no matter how their father acted.

When Louis left, you were left to help your mother with the other girls, Mark not being much help. You were often left to help them get ready for school, get ready for bed, and you even had to run errands for your mother.

Since you were only 16, and hadn’t gotten a driver’s license, you had to walk almost everywhere, but you didn’t mind, not when you were helping your mother.

Having a brother who had recently become a famous member of a boy band, also meant you had to watch all the girls at your school drool over him. This also meant that a lot more people were trying to be friendly to you.

Most of the girls at your school loved Louis, probably because they thought they had the best chance with him, not that they had any chance.

However, you preferred Harry. You always had a soft spot for sweet boys with curly hair, but this time felt different. It probably was just a silly little crush, you’d obsess for a few weeks and then get over it.

You were so, so wrong.

You watched your brother and his mates smash their way through the charts for the next two years, becoming the best boy band of the generation.

The whole family was immensely proud of him, even Mark. You were particularly proud of Harry, though the rest of your family didn’t really care.

The small crush hadn’t faded, instead it had grown in the past two years, each time you saw him on a photo your brother sent, or on TV, you flushed and your heart started racing.

He was just perfect. Perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect dimples, perfect smile, perfect lips, perfect everything.

It honestly kind of upset you sometimes.

There you were, the sister of one of his best mates, same age as him too, and yet you had never met him.

That all changed when the band went to Madison Square Garden at the end of the year.

Since you were eighteen and finished with college, you were allowed to go with your mother to go see Louis perform.

As you and your mother approached the stadium, you felt a wave of awe wash over you. Your brother’s face was on the fucking front of Madison Square Garden. He was getting paid to be here.

Where the fuck did you go wrong?

The driver that Louis had hired pulled up in the front, allowing you both to get out along with Liam’s mum, Karen, who was a lovely lady.

You all climbed out of the car onto the busy New York City street, people busling past your trio to file into the large arena.

Your mother grabbed your hand and Karen’s as well, pulling you both into line.

Meanwhile, the boys were sitting in front of the camera, discussing their feelings about the upcoming show. Zayn and Liam were currently in the dressing room, and Niall was finishing his dinner, so Louis and Harry were left to be interviewed.

“You know, this is a big show for us, obviously,” Harry said, trying not to be gesticulative as he spoke, nerves buzzing through his body.

“Yeah, of course it’s big cos it’s MSG, but this is also the only one that all of us have at least one family member in the audience. Liam, Niall, and Zayn have their mums, Harry has his mum and stepdad, and my mum and sister are coming, which is of course rattling, you want them to be proud of you,” Louis said, leaning back on the couch.

Harry paused for a moment, “Wait, which sister?”

“Y/N, she’s finished with school, so mum let her come down, she’s ecstatic,” Louis smiled and Harry nodded, trying to keep a straight face for the camera.

He had never met you, he’s only heard stories from Louis, and seen pictures that his mum always sent him of all the girls.

He thought you were adorable, who wouldn’t? He wouldn’t call it a crush, he hadn’t even met you. However, there was definitely something about you that drew him near you.

Once you had gotten inside, Karen insisted on going to buy something. The concert was starting in a few minutes, so there weren’t many people at the tables, most already in their seats.

She was beaming, looking at all of the stuff with her son’s face on it, your mother bearing a similar smile. Karen spotted the cardboard cutouts of the boys. And her eyes lit up.

She rushed to buy one, your mother chuckling, but you could tell she was contemplating on buying one herself.

The pair began to walk away, the camera crew following them, but you stayed behind, stepping up to the cashier.

Your mother must’ve noticed you weren’t there, as seconds later she was at your side, rubbing your arm lightly.

“Whatcha buying?” She asked, humming as she moved her hand to your upper back.

You felt yourself flush as you ordered the Harry cutout. Your mother was laughing her arse off, clutching her stomach as she doubled over.

You felt embarrassed, but understood her reaction. Karen turned around to see the commotion and saw the cashier handing you the Harry cutout. She gave a light chuckle and waved you both over.

Your mother pretended to wipe a tear from her cheek, smirking at you, “Aw, my baby’s in love!” She teased and you bit your lip.

“Shut up,” you mumbled weakly.

The camera crew saw the interaction, getting the whole thing on tape. As you passed the camera, you gave it a small, awkward smile, stuffing the Harry under your arm.

The show was amazing, you didn’t expect any less.

The boys were energetic, entertaining the audience as they jumped and ran around the stage, clearly enjoying themselves.

You were placed in the front, along with the other mothers and Robin, Harry’s step-father. During Louis’ solos, you and your mother would cheer the loudest, the others doing the same for their respective child.

Each boy came to wave to all of you, grinning as they sang. Louis just made a funny face at you and your mother, almost missing his cue.

The other boys did similar things, running to wave while they were singing, but Harry hadn’t come over yet, something that was clearly disturbing Anne.

During a brief break in between songs, Harry came to sit on the edge of the stage in front of all of you. The fans surrounding you all were screaming, some laughing when he gave a bashful wave.

He brought the microphone to his mouth, interrupting Liam’s monologue.

“That’s my mummy!” He pointed to Anne, making her giggle as he bounced up and down where he sat. “Hi mummy!” He yelled, giving an over enthusiastic wave, the audience loving every second.

A grin spread across your face, watching the interaction warmed your heart. Anne was loving it, she blew Harry a kiss, and he caught it, pressing it to kiss cheek.

“I love you mum,” he said, seriously. The audience and all the boys on stage letting out a sweet ‘aw’.

“I love you, Hazza!” Anne tried to yell above the audience, her voice being drowned out, but Harry understood her perfectly.

He turned his attention to the rest of you, “Hi everyone!” He waved again, his grin still just as wide. His eyes scanned over each of you, and his met yours. “Y/N? You’re Lou’s sister, right?” He asked and you nodded, trying to ignore your mum poking your arm. “Damn!” He yelled and you felt yourself gaping, Louis standing up quickly.

“Excuse me?” He asked, in mock offense.

Harry realized his mistake, “No, no, no! That came out wrong,” he turned to you, “I didn’t mean any disrespect, I just mean that I imagined you being like,” he held up his hand a few feet off the ground, “this tall based on how Lou described you, and that is certainly not the case,” he affirmed and Louis playfully rolled his eyes.

“Sure,” he dragged it out, “I’m sure that’s what you meant,” he joked, and Harry stood, brushing off his bum.

“Anyways! On with the show!”

—

A few months later, the boys sat huddled around a table in the film director’s conference room.

The film was finally completed, and the boys were invited to watch it and suggest changes. The boys were a bit into the film now, mostly taking the piss out of it and teasing each other.

Then came the footage from Madison Square Garden.

The boys stayed silent the whole time that the mothers were speaking, being quiet for the first time since the film started.

After showing the mothers’ thoughts on them performing at MSG, it cut to the interviews backstage. It was mostly just the boys’ preparation. Harry and Louis’ interview showed up, and the teasing started right up again.

“Louis, did you see the way his face lit up when you mentioned Y/N?” Liam said through laughter, Zayn and Niall laughing with him.

Harry was glaring at the boys, trying to avoid looking at Louis, a furious blush coating his cheeks. Louis was trying to hide his smile, looking at Harry out of the corner of his eye.

Truth was, he didn’t mind at all. Sure, it was a little weird, but he knew Harry, and Louis knew about your little crush on him, your mum had told him about it and had even sent pictures of the Harry cutout, now set up in your room. He would rather you date Harry than some random kid from Doncaster. You and Harry would work well together, he may even dare to say you were perfect for each other. There was only one problem; you hadn’t met.

The boys had finally calmed down and the rest of the film continued. While Liam and Niall were talking about the time they had to be smuggled through a bread van, Louis took his chance. He leaned over, catching Harry’s attention, “Don’t listen to them, if I’m being honest with you, I wouldn’t mind if you dated my sister,” he whispered, Harry immediately getting flustered.

“I, what? I don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re mad,” Harry mumbled and Louis chuckled, patting Harry’s knee.

“It’s alright lad, no need to explain yourself.”

The topic wasn’t brought up again until the movie came out.

Well, it technically hadn’t come out yet. Each boy was allowed to stream it at their home, they were sent digital copies. Louis had invited you over to watch it a week before it officially came out, and of course you had said yes.

You decided to spend the week with him, needing a break from managing the house with your mother. You had felt guilty, seeing as it was now her alone, Mark had left early on in your brother’s departure. Although, Dan, her new fiancé, was there to help out a bit.

You pulled up outside his apartment building, parking and grabbing your bag from the passenger’s seat. You made your way into the apartment, keeping your head down as you knocked on the door.

Louis opened it, throwing his arms open with a large grin on his face. You set your bag down, giggling as you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

“I missed you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I missed you too,” he said, swaying with you in the doorway for a moment. He pulled away, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited someone else over too!”

“I don’t mind,” you said, squinting at your brother, why was he being so cheeky about it?

“Great! Alright, come on in! Harry’s on the couch, and before we watch the film, we’re gonna watch interviews!” He ushered you inside, grabbing your bag.

You stopped once you had entered the house, turning back to Louis, “Hold, go back there for a second, did you say Harry’s here?” You asked, quickly panicking.

You were answered by a voice behind you, “Louis, is your guest…” Harry trailed off as you turned around. He gaped for a moment, clearing his throat quickly, “Oh, uhm, hi Y/N, Louis didn’t say you were coming,” his eyes left you to quickly glance at Louis.

“Hi,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek.

It was quiet for a few moments, and Louis interjected, “Ready to watch the interviews?” He asked, not even waiting for an answer as he dragged both of you to the living room.

He sat down on the couch, pulling you and Harry on either side of him. “They sent me a weird version they made that has the interviews first, and the movie immediately after,” he leaned over and picked up a napkin he had set on the table.

On it were two times stamps, one that was pretty early on, and one that was presumably later in the film. He scrolled on the TV for a moment, getting the setting right and pressing start once the DVD was processed.

He began to fast forward through most of the interviews, you were a bit confused when he came to a stop in the middle of the interviews. You were about to say something, but he turned the volume all the way up, pressing play.

“If you had to set up your sister with one of the band, and you could trust them, who would it be?” The interviewer asked, leaning forwards as she spoke.

Liam and Zayn erupted, “None, none of them!” They both chided, clear looks of disgust on their face.

Louis sat contemplating for a moment, both Liam and Zayn looking at him with knowing smiles, “I have an ideal pair in mind, I’m not going to verify who, the lads already know who it is, my sister doesn’t, but I’ve got a plan,” he smirked, nodding enthusiastically.

The Louis next to you looked at his napkin again, fast forwarding it again, this time you were sat for a little bit longer, the tension in the room growing thicker. Both you and Harry had a feeling that he was talking about you guys, but neither of you dared say anything.

He unpaused it again, this time it was the actual film, iit showed you and your mum, along with Karen, it was the MSG footage.

You began panicking, trying to grab the remote from Louis, “Louis, Louis, turn it off, turn it off!” You yelled as you tackled him, reaching for the remote he was holding high.

He ducked to his side, quickly stuffing the remote down his trousers as the film continued playing. He gave you a triumphant smirk, but you narrowed your eyes, “don’t think I won’t look in there,” you threatened, and he shot up, running to the washroom, giggling the whole way.

You let out a grunt of defeat, collapsing on the couch and shrinking in on yourself, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, ‘m so so sorry Harry,” you grumbled, sinking further into the couch.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “It’s alright, love. I’ve already seen the movie,” he admitted and you let out an exasperated sigh.

“Shit,” you mumbled.

“Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assured, you felt him put his hand on your knee, making you flush even further. “In fact, if the roles were reversed, I probably would’ve bought a cutout of you too,” he began rubbing a small circle on your knee.

You removed your hands from your face at his confession, looking at him in confusion, “Wait, really?”

“Of course! When we first got together as a band, you called Louis, and he stepped outside for a minute to talk to you, when he got back, he had the biggest smile on his face. At first we thought that it was a girl he’d been talking to, but then he told us it was his sister, and I just had to know more about the girl who made him smile that big. He began talking about you, and about your other family of course, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how he described you, then he showed me pictures, and you just blew me away, as cheeky as it sounds,” he laughed lightly, your eyes traced his profile, “then I saw you at MSG, and I was even more shocked, you were much more mature than the last picture Louis had showed us. I couldn’t stop thinking about the girl who smiled brighter than sun, the one who loved her family more than anything, the one who could make anyone laugh just by speaking, and I hadn’t even met you! But now I’ve actually met you, and even seeing you wrestled with Louis earlier, it confirmed everything I already thought.” He paused, his eyes opening quickly, “I-Uhm, if you don’t like any of that, you can just ignore all of it.”

You sat in disbelief, joy overwhelming you, “Wait, so you like me?”

“I mean, yeah, if that whole speech wasn’t convincing enough, I can show you my diary,” he offered, and you put a finger to his lips.

“As tempting as that is, I really want to kiss you right now, is that alright?” You asked, scooting closer to him on the couch.

“Yeah, that would be amazing,” he giggled, placing his hand on your cheek as your lips met.

It was awkward at first, you were both angled on the couch, neither position comfortable. You shifted closer, slowly crawling onto his lap, quickly pulling away to make sure it was okay with him. When he gave you a subtle nod, you connected your lips again, his sweet, oddly sugary, plush lips. You ran your fingers through his curls, quickly tangling them. He put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as you continued to kiss. It was heavenly, everything you had ever dreamed of. Of course, your paradise had to be interrupted by something.

“Oi Oi!” Louis yelled from the hallway, “I get you like each other and all, but this is my couch, come on lads!” He complained, causing you to hurry off of Harry’s lap, taking a seat beside him. He playfully scoffed, pointing a finger at you, “Now, I’m going to get some food from the kitchen, no snogging while I’m gone!” He demanded as he walked out of the room.

You and Harry giggle to yourself, he turned to you, a playful smile adorning his face, “y’know, now that I’m dating a Tomlinson, maybe the Larries will finally back off,” he joked, earning a chuckle from you.

“Oh darling, you’re forgetting one thing,” you chided, he turned to you, obviously confused. “I’m the biggest Larrie of them all,” you teased.

“Oh shut it!” Both he and Louis yelled.

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[translations-by-aiimee]

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 1

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

TW for this chapter: Mentions of suicide

I wanted to provide some ~variety~ so I'm doing another novel. I'll give a warning that the first few chapters are kind of intense and I'll keep the TWs updated as they come and put a TL;DR at the end if there's anything too graphic.

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 - The Beauty in Red

Song Qingshi is dead.

After his death, he came to in a strange space, and in the space, there was a sphere randomly flashing red.

The sphere said that he is a book-transmigrating system from a high-dimensional world. There was a xiania novel called "The Exceptional Furnace", which was about to be plagued by readers' resentment due to the tragic fate of the protagonist, causing problems in that world. It needed to find someone who is familiar with the tropes of these novels and someone with the power to change and repair the body and mind of the protagonist, and fulfill the readers' wishes - change the fate of the protagonist, dote on him, and let him live the happiest and most fulfilling life □□ □□□□□

The information in the system came intermittently, and in the □□ there were incomprehensible, alien-like characters.

Song Qingshi suffered from Lou Gehrig's Disease during his lifetime and devoted himself to studying medicine to try and save himself. He was a medical student who studied and experimented frantically every day and never wasted time reading novels.

In terms of emotions, he is even more obtuse. Although he is very handsome and has an attractive and obedient personality, due to his physical problems, even the school bully treated him like a precious thing. With all the excessive loving care and sympathy, not only did he never have a crush, but he also suffered from a slight fear of talking to strangers.

This was the worst soul for this task.

Song Qingshi didn't know how he was picked up by the system. He had read Marxist philosophy novels in vain. But from his messy information and analysis from the system's explanation, as long as he accepts the task, the system will send him to the virtual book world, give him a healthy body, and he will come back to life.

After Song Qingshi realized this, he was ecstatic. A healthy body is was his biggest desire. Not to mention the fact that the system only asked that he take care of someone. Even if the system had asked him to swim through seas of fire, he would have accepted still.

Because of this, he ignored his conscience, structured his response, and lied for the first time in his life: "I have read tens of thousands of books that I have memorized. I have extensive medical and nursing knowledge, have taken a psychology course as an elective, and I could solve all the physical and mental sufferings of the protagonist. And love. . . I have lots of experience with love, I know how to communicate, absolutely, I. . . can definitely accomplish these tasks!"

If there was any blood that could exist in a soul, he would definitely be flushed.

The system didn't notice his lies. It registered the identity of the task performer, and sent a series of garbled commands, mixed with all kinds of chaotic and disorderly information into Song Qingshi's mind, sending waves of discomfort through his soul.

Suddenly, the system let out a sharp alarm and the data transmission was cut off. Song Qingshi's vision went black, and his soul drifted away towards a bright white light. . .

. . .

When Song Qingshi woke up, he found himself lying in the woods, surrounded by the faint fragrance of various herbs. He squinted his eyes and looked towards the dazzling blue sky. There was a gorgeous golden luan bird dragging its long tail feathers, letting out a loud caw as it flew past, with countless immortal birds following it.

Was this the world from the novel?

It seemed too real. . .

A soft breeze blew across the forest, shaking off the dew on the trees. The dew fell onto his pale fingertips, bringing a slightly cool feeling. Then, all the memories of the original body flooded into his mind like a tidal wave, trying to merge with his own soul - this body was also called Song Qingshi, the master of the Medicine King's Valley, and the most talented medical immortal and pharmaceutical expert in the immortal world. His medical skills could heal the dead and revive bones, and the spirit pills he cultivates were considered treasures by every cultivator.

However, the original body's temperament was extremely troubling. He rarely left Medicine King's Valley at all, never made friends, and had no interest in matters other than medicine and alchemy. When a patient sought him out, he only looks at their temperament and never asked their identity. When he was in a good mood, he treated mortal beggars. When he was in a bad mood, regardless of the identity of the visitor, he would turn them into flower fertilizer for his garden. He often used living people to test medicines. Cruel, but because of his Nascent Soul cultivation base and various skills with poisons, the immortal sects didn't dare provoke him easily, only secretly calling him troubling behind his back.

Cultivators in the immortal world had long life spans, and the knowledge and memory of this original body had for its hundreds of years of cultivation had not arrived yet. Various data fragments of the system rushed in frantically, with countless garbled codes, tearing the original body's memory into a mess, leaving Song Qingshi at a loss. It took a long time before he managed to figure out his current situation.

This was Golden Phoenix Mountain Manor, the most luxurious place in the immortal world, where there are rare and exotic animals and countless immortals and beautiful concubines.

The owner, Jin FeiRen, was also a great Nascent cultivator. He was a true romantic, an excessive spender, and had friends from both the immortal and demonic cultivation world. He was a well-known figure.

The original body had always been cold, obsessed with his work, and never touched either men and women. Today's arrival was accidental. The Manor Lord Jin wanted to give him Ten Thousand Year Snow Ginseng to exchange a batch of medicinal pills for him. The original body had recently been lacking Snow Ginseng to make his medicines, so he agreed to the deal.

Since Snow Ginseng grows in the secret realm of the snow mountains of the Jin family. If you wanted to get the ones with the best medicinal properties, you needed to pick them at night and preserve it with a special refining method. Therefore, the original body came here to pick it personally, and Song Qingshi somehow ended up here.

Then, Song Qingshi was sent here by the system. . .

Where was the protagonist? What does he look like?

Song Qingshi wanted to ask the system to ask for more information, but the system seemed to disappear. The materials it sent not only contained no plot points from the novel, but also very little character information. There were garbled characters everywhere, even though the protagonist hadn't been introduced yet. Song Qingshi got dizzy going through all this information before he found some descriptions in the copywriting introduction: the best physique, unmatched beauty shou X□□□□□ gong, procured by trickery, sadomasochistic, □□, □□, □□ There were only three texts that could be read clearly: Banquet of Bea□□□.

. . .

If this were someone who often read these types of novels, they would immediately recognize that this situation was problematic.

Song Qingshi, however, didn't recognize any of this as problematic. He believed that this was a test given by the system to assess his reasoning skills and ability to do things. Song Qingshi was very accustomed to being assessed like this. Usually, when he and his teacher started developing a new drug, he often didn't have any prior results in his hand. It required some experimentation and to experience many errors and difficulties in order to reach the final result. Most of the time, that result was not what they were hoping for.

Many pharmaceutical companies invest billions or even tens of billions in drug research. Scholars have spent decades trying, right until their hair turned grey, only to fail during their clinical trials.

Therefore, every drug researcher is a strong man who has experienced many battles, repeated defeats and never-ending setbacks.

These questions from Teacher System were not difficult!

Scholar-Tryant Song expressed no fear! He will definitely find the correct answer and live up to the teacher's expectations of him!

Song Qingshi thought about the information he was given, determined the goal of the protagonist, and then quickly understood the key points of the novel: the protagonist will appear at the Banquet of Beauties, it will be a male, homosexual, unmatched beauty, superb body; a pitiful character with a tragic fate. He needs to save the protagonist, give him the greatest care, heal his physical and mental health, and then help him find happiness and joy!

During Song Qingshi's time, respect for sexual orientation was written into the law, and same-sex couples could get married.

He once found a novel lost by a rotten girl classmate, titled "His Evil Majesty's Spoiled Husband". On the cover was a handsome and domineering man in a period costume holding a beautiful woman with long hair with a super flat chest. He didn't understand it, and returned the book. When he asked curiously, his classmates told him what Danmei was, and told him that the beauty on the cover was actually male. The beautiful male was the "shou", and the domineering one was the "gong". So Song Qingshi is confident that he would easily distinguish between the gong and the shou in the novel. He would never mistake the gong as the protagonist.

He had thought it through and the direction of problem-solving has been determined. All that was left was to wait for the Banquet of Beauties to start the exam.

Song Qingshi's spiritual sea gradually became clear. The soul and body were merged and became flexible. He sat up with his hands cautiously, took off his shoes, raised his feet, and tried to stretch the toes that had been stiff for many years. The white and round toes curled happily. Song Qingshi stood up shakily, briefly walking forward a few steps with hands and feet before finally remembered the walking posture of a normal person, and his movements gradually changed from jerky to steady. . .

Under his feet was soft green grass and moist soil.

Outside the forest was a calm river. Song Qingshi stepped into the water and took a handful of cold river water to wash his face, confirming that he was not in a dream.

Tears fell out of extreme joy, and the big tears fell onto his palms. His hands couldn't stop no matter how much he tried. The river calmed down from the slight disturbance, and the reflection of the boy's figure appeared.

Song Qingshi was surprised to find that the body given to him by the system was very similar to his high school appearance; he was not very tall and significantly thinner. He wore a Daoist cultivator outfit made of many layers of snow-coloured cloud brocade, wrapped tightly around his body. At first glance, all the layers of clothing gave the illusion of a frail man.

His thin hair was simply tied up with some loose hair dangling freely. His appearance may be related to immortal cultivation. He is a bit more refined than his original body, with a cold, pale complexion and clear eyes. Because he often blocks out the world and focuses on his study, he feels a bit dull and extremely gullible, leading many unlucky ghosts to think that the original was harmless and would become the fertilizer or poison tester.

. . .

After Song Qingshi vented his emotions and saw the red-rimmed eyes in the reflection, he was a little embarrassed. He hurriedly lowered his head and fetched water, trying to wash away the tears on his face, but behind him came the sound of fine bells and ridicule.

"It's useless to commit suicide. It will only cause you needless pain. If you are still not reconciled, you can try and sink slowly to see if you can succeed."

Surprised, Song Qingshi turned around and saw the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his life.

There were trees full of peach blossoms, and under the tree was a beautiful young boy in red. Who knows how long he was watching Song Qingshi stupidly crying. The young man's appearance was blooming, like a scroll of rich colours and ink, painted with all the romantic colours of the world. The warm jade-like skin, the most beautiful thing about him were the dark golden phoenix eyes under the crow-feather-like eyelashes. He resembled a noble and dignified phoenix in the sky, but there was an extremely gorgeous red tear-shared mole under the corner of his left eye, desecrating his nobleness. The dignity of his appearance was crushed, and the phoenix rejoined the mortal world, turning into a creature stained with flattery and seductiveness which made people feel unbearable tempted.

His long hair was untied and hung casually around his waist. The ends of his hair were slightly curled, his feet were bare, and he was only wearing a red dress made of shark silk. The shark silk was as smooth as water, clinging to his body, covering all the desirables underneath.

Song Qingshi did not think anything blasphemous, but because he was caught crying, his social anxiety became more intense. After a long pause of building courage, he stumbled and said: "I, I just..."

His hesitation became reluctant approval in the eyes of the beauty in red.

There are dangerous monsters and birds everywhere in the immortal world. Cultivators were equipped with spiritual auras and keen senses, and can easily detect the wind and grass around them. Even the minor cultivators in the time they were establishing their cultivation base would not miss the sound of mortal footsteps with bells, let alone the Nascent Soul cultivators. If they release their spiritual thoughts, the smallest creatures on the mountain would not escape their attention. Except for Song Qingshi, a newly-born soul who had just arrived in this world, and was still very unused to spiritual power and these world conditions. . .

The beauty in red had completely misunderstood, thinking that Song Qingshi was also a mortal. There was only one use for such a beautiful mortal in Golden Phoenix Manor. He clarified: "A new slave?"

Song Qingshi looked up in amazement. He wanted to ask questions, but his eyes fell on the beauty of the red dress. There seemed to be some strange bruises on his neck as if it had been bitten by a mosquito, but it seemed that it might be something else. He took a few more secretive glances, trying to determine what they were.

The beauty in red noticed his curious glances and his heart grew upset. With growing malicious intent, a very gentle smile appeared on his face, and he said in a sincerely blessed tone: "Don't stare, you will have them soon, too."

Song Qingshi was very sheltered before transmigrating. He had never encountered malice and did not understand the mystery behind these words. Although he thought this blessing was a bit strange, he still answered politely: "Thank you."

The beauty in red choked hearing this answer. He was stunned for a moment. He looked at Song Qingshi up and down like a fool, and found that the person in front of him was clean and his skin was free of any injuries. He had never experienced the ravages of hell in his eyes. He was pure.

This discovery made him feel pity for the heart that had been tempered by suffering. He retracted his sharp malice and said softly, "After tonight, you will know that death is a luxury." He turned slightly to his side, looking at the river's flow. He warned, "When I first came here, I tried to commit suicide many times, but it was useless. We are slaves who are branded with the Acacia Seal. Our spirits belong to our master. So long as the master doesn't allow it, we cannot die, even by our own hands. . .

The beauty in red was silent for a long time. He slowly stretched out his hand and stroked Song Qing's hair that was soft as the fur of a small animal.

Song Qingshi saw several red rope marks on his pale wrists. He realized that this was pain that the beauty wouldn't want to be questioned about, so he pushed down his curiosity.

The fingertips of the red-dressed beauty slipped from his hair to Song Qingshi's delicate face, watching his innocent expression. He held his hand there for a moment before putting it down, conflicted. He didn't want to say any more. Since he didn't know those nightmarish experiences, it was useless to say anything more. Being able to preserve this kind of innocence, it was one more moment of happiness for him. Finally, he sighed, "You look good, but unfortunately the more your looks improve as you grow, the longer it will be until you're freed. . ."

Song Qingshi was puzzled: "What do you mean by 'freed'?"

"You'll know soon." The beauty in red's expression suddenly relaxed. He glanced around carefully, then stretched out his index finger and tapped his lips lightly. With a voice so light that he could barely hear it, he said ambiguously, "Tonight I will be freed. . ."

The beauty in red turned around with a smile and, with a crisp ring of the bells, turned to leave. His steps were a bit unstable, and each step was strenuous, like a mermaid walking on the tip of a knife in pain.

A pair of exquisite gold shackles were exposed on the beauty's ankles under the red clothes. Each of the shackles was decorated with an exquisite bell. The middle was connected by a slender golden chain. When walking, the bell shook slightly and made a clear and sweet sound, just like a tethered bird.

The golden chain dragged across the grass, and a few drops of blood dropped onto the green leaves.

Song Qingshi mustered up the courage to overcome his social anxiety, and shouted to the beauty who was about to leave: "Are you. . .injured? I, I know medical skills. . . Do you need me to treat you?"

The beauty in red turned back, looked at him for a few seconds, and he couldn't help but smile. This time the smile finally reached his eyes, like a ray of golden sunlight breaking through the clouds, dazzlingly beautiful. He shook his head towards Song Qingshi, and gave himself a sincere blessing: "I hope you have better luck tonight."

He turned his head, and the sunlight in his eyes disappeared in a flash, as if it had never existed, only the dark clouds that would not retreat.

Having endured these nightmares for years, he has long learned not to remember the kindness of others, and not to care about being offered charity from others.

He walked alone in this prison without stopping, step after step, wearing those painful shackles.

[lollytea]

Hi can you do louie and ty fuff plzzz:)):)

“Ok ok ok, I got this! I totally got this! Just gonna waltz into the room, take control of the situation, y’know? It’ll be a snap! And then I’ll just--”

“Dammit, Louie! Come back here!”

Louie was currently walking hasty circles around their living room, carding his fingers through his hair and erratically gesturing with his hands as he insistently talked himself into a state of confidence.

Ty was at his heels, wielding a lint roller.

“Then I’ll wow them! I’ll work my charm, just like I always do. Silver tongue never failed me before,”

“I disagree.” Said Ty flatly, as he finally caught hold of Louie’s hand and steered him around to face him. “Now stand still. You keep gettin’ all nervous and pacing around.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Your hand is real sweaty.”

“Simply cannot be helped. A big handsome man just cradled it tenderly.”

“Shut up and T-pose.”

Louie blinked, cocking his head vacantly at his boyfriend. “What?”

Ty made an impatient noise. “Just do it.”

He did as told, his shaking nerves forgotten with the his sudden twang of confusion. But then Ty was dragging the lint roller up and down his outstretched arms and it made sense.

“I know this is your first real meeting and your big chance to get into the business world and all that.” He was saying as he worked. “I know you’re all worried, overthinking how you’re supposed to act. I get that you’re a little all over the place. But here’s the thing,” 

Meeting his eyes, Ty pressed his fingertips against Louie’s cheek and said with feather-soft gentleness “Your blazer looks like shit.”

Louie squawked indignantly but Ty’s gaze had returned to the task at hand. 

“It does not!”

“You look like you were rolling around in a cat’s bed, how did this even happen?” 

“I never even noticed. It can’t look that bad.”

“Course ya never noticed. You were too busy thinking about how you were gonna act, you forgot all about how you looked. Don’t ya know presentation means everything, Lou?”

“Looked okay this morning.” He mumbled, looking down at himself and realizing that yes, his sleek black blazer was overlaid with fuzzy little white tufts. 

“Not surprised.” The lint roller was now travelling down his chest. “You dressed yourself before the sun even came up. Didn’t really get a good look in the mirror. Speaking of which, you got up so early that you’re probably gonna be beat by the time you get home. We’ll have an early dinner and then you can go night night. Okay?”

Louie hummed, a distant sound. 

“....Louie?” 

Ty’s brow scrunched and the look in his eye, brimming with concern had Louie’s confident act crumbling instantaneously. 

“Do you think they’re actually gonna like me? The board, I mean? I hear they’re pretty rough on newcomers.”

Ty answered at once.  

“Yeah, I do. You’re pretty likeable. Unless you’re in a mood where you’re like “I’m Louie and I’m evil! Blahhh!” Then you’re kinda a nightmare.”

Louie snorted and Ty’s lip twitched. He was obviously trying to make him laugh and a piece of Louie’s mind noted how sweet it was. Too bad all the other pieces were too preoccupied with all the hypothetical scenarios that could make this meeting go horribly horribly wrong. 

“Okay.” Said Ty. His voice kept Louie tethered to the present and not spiraling inside his own head. “I got it all off, I think. You look presentable.” He dusted Louie off.

Louie grabbed the hand and clutched it between both of his own. “But do I look handsome~?” He asked in an exaggeratedly flirty tone. “That’s the real question, Tiberius.”

Ty raised an eyebrow, amused. “Well, I dunno if you’re gonna be the most handsome person there. I haven’t seen any of the rest of them.”

Louie’s beak pursed, eyes narrowing. “That is not the correct answer.”

Ty laughed at his look. “You’re the handsomest I swear. Here, look,”

He tapped his lint roller against his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I dub thee Llewellyn the Handsome and Charmer of boring old business guys.” 

“Do I get a crown?”

“Do you think I can afford one? How does a plastic princess tiara from the dollar store sound?” 

“Honestly, I think I could pull it off.”

“You could. Anyway, c’mere I gotta fix this tie.”

“Woah, woah. Nonono, it’s supposed to be like this.”

“What, all loose and sloppy lookin’?”

“It’s all a part of the image I’m going for. Louie Duck; professional yet devil-may-care. It’s all to do with The Brand™, Tiberius.”

“Well, here’s the problem with that, Llewellyn; you haven’t proved yourself to these people yet. They’re not looking for devil-may-care in an employee.” He was prattling on, undoing Louie’s tie and looping it up properly. “You gotta wait until you’ve climbed your way up the corporate ladder and they can’t afford to get rid of you. Then you get to start using your Brand™.”

“Y’know, babe, I think I know what I’m doing when it comes to business and I think this look would really--”

Ty had popped Louie’s chin upwards and pecked him on the tip of the beak. Drawing his face back to look at him, Ty tilted his head, a bright grin stretching across his face. The corners of his eyes crinkled and Louie lost his breath momentarily.

“-- But then again, you’re known to be right about stuff every once in a while so maybe this is one of those times.” He continued, still a little trapped in Ty’s dark eyes and would probably continue to be if his boyfriend didn’t redirect his gaze. 

Ty finished preening Louie with one last smooth-down of his green dress shirt and took a step back to give him a look-over. He gave a sharp nod of approval. 

“You’re ready to go.”

Louie opened his beak. 

“And you look very handsome.”

He clamped it shut again.

Just as Louie was preparing to head out the door, mumbling his pre-prepared lines under his breath and trying to curb his fretting, Ty called out to him.

“Wait, wait, just one second,”

He came jogging up with his lint roller in hand. Louie watched with a raised eyebrow as he plucked off a teeny tiny fuzzball, set it on the pad of his index finger and offered it to him. 

Maybe a decade ago, Louie would’ve stared at him like he had lost his mind. But he had been with this goof for long enough to not be surprised by anything. He only sighed, giving him a neutral look as he waited for his boyfriend to elaborate. 

Ty smiled. “Make a wish.” 

His smile was contagious.

“This is stupid,” Said a grinning Louie but he took a deep inhale and blew the fuzzball away, wishing for luck at this godforsaken meeting.

Ty gazed at his finger where it had once been, like a lost lenore before raising his gaze to Louie and whispered solemnly “Fluff.”

Louie had to laugh, something about Ty’s utterly stoic expression paired with such ridiculousness shot a giggle right out of his throat. 

“Fluff.” He responded, attempting to mirror his seriousness but failing miserably. 

He was still laughing as he reached his meeting, wondering where exactly his nerves had gone. 

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Burned Part 17

Summary:  Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 17: The honeymooners are hit with a startling realization. Louise celebrates a birthday. 

//Happy holidays! Here’s an extra long chapter filled with angst and fluff. 

           The summer Parisian morning filtered into the room the next day. Alfie was fast asleep on his stomach, his arm thrown over Louise’s bare stomach. She smiled tiredly and stroked her husband’s back. Her fingernails grazed lightly over the planes of his muscles and each vertebra of his spine. She traced up to his shoulder blades and paused when she came across an unfamiliar mark.

           On first glance, it appeared to be an abrasion but she realized it was something wrong with the skin and not an external wound.

           Alfie began to stir underneath her touches. “’Mornin’ Mrs. Solomons.” He murmured in a gravely voice.

           “Alfie, what is this on your shoulder?” She asked, too concerned to reply to the greeting.

           He seemed to know exactly what she was talking about because he didn’t become alarmed. He merely shut his eyes again. “S’nothing.”

           “Alfie…” She warned him before he tried to sweep it under the rug.

           “Just psoriasis.” He muttered, kissing her shoulder to try and distract her.

           “You saw a doctor?” His wife didn’t give the subject up.

      ��    “Yes.”                                      

           “Really?” She raised an eyebrow. Alfie would never go to a doctor unless she’d force him. She wasn’t even sure he would go if he had a bullet in his chest. “When? Who did you see?”

           It was clear Alfie wasn’t going to win this battle. He couldn’t lie to her because she’d see right through him, or worse, she’d go to fact check his claims. “No, I didn’t. But that’s probably what it is, can’t imagine it’s anything else.” He turned over onto his back, blocking her view of the mark.

           “What if it’s cancer?” She asked with worry heavy in her hazel eyes.

           He never liked seeing her so concerned over him. “It ain’t cancer.”

           “Alfie, you don’t know that unless you go to a doctor.” She urged. “Please, we can go home early…”          

           “Lou, m’not cutting our fucking honeymoon short because of a little welt.” He interrupted her. “I promise, s’nothing serious. Now c’mon, I think we should pick up where we left off last night.” His arms wrapped around her waist to bring her close again.

           Louise didn’t look to be in the mood. She chewed on her lower lip, not brushing aside her concern like her husband did.

           He grazed his lips over her neck but she turned away from him to refuse the advance. “Lou…”

           She swallowed and forced a smile. “I just have to go to the bathroom.” She replied and pecked him on the cheek before standing up. “I’d like to go to the Louvre today. Will you take me after breakfast?”

           Alfie propped himself up on his elbow to watch her slip on a dressing gown. “Yeah, ‘course love.” He agreed quietly. There was no ignoring the worry in her eyes. He’d been so sure he could hide it from her despite being on their honeymoon. It was most likely cancer, he knew that. Lots of men from the war came back with it because of the gas. The gangster was not afraid of death, even a painfully slow one like skin cancer. But he was terrified of the effects it might have on his wife. Cancer wasn’t like the other dangers in his life. He could disarm the disease or just walk away from it. But he’d hold on as long as possible to give Louise the life she deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Louise wouldn’t let go of Alfie. She made sure his arm never slipped from hers as they walked slowly through the grand museum. If he moved one way, she followed.

           He could sense her growing dread. She spent less time at each painting the longer they remained at the museum. She appeared preoccupied, her eyes only focused on one part of the paintings, not studying it as she might have done before.

           Alfie tried to engage her in conversation about the art to distract her. But she merely nodded or gave a nearly silent, one-worded response.

~~~~~~~~~~

           “Seen this one in a postcard ‘fore.” They stood among other museumgoers in front of the Venus de Milo statue. “Not sure why she’s so famous without any fucking arms.” He smiled and gave a weak laugh.

           Louise didn’t even try to smile. She finally let go of his arm, slipping away from him and walking away without a word.

           Alfie’s shoulders slumped and he followed her. “Lou.” He trailed after her as she walked into another room. It was pretty empty, only a few people filtering in and out. “Louise.”

           She stopped and turned to him. Her eyes were filling up with tears. “How could you keep this from me?” She whispered.

           “I didn’t…” Alfie ran a hand through his hair and took a breath. “I didn’t lie to you, I don’t know what it fucking is, okay?”

           “You seem to have a hunch.” She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips together. The last thing she wanted to do was argue on her honeymoon, especially in a place like the Louvre. But she was scared.

           “Even if that’s what it is, yeah, there ain’t anything we can do ‘bout it, love.” He replied honestly. “I didn’t exactly ask to get it, now did I?”

           “I wasn’t blaming you I…” Her throat tightened and the room around her felt like it was caving in.

           Alfie heard her breathing getting shallower. He gently guided her to sit on a nearby bench in the middle of the exhibit. He touched her arms and hushed her softly. “You don’t need to cry over it, Lou. Everyone fucking dies eventually, don’t they?”

           That didn’t help and she hiccupped, her shoulders hunched and eyes down. “I don’t want to lose you.”

           “Louise, love, look at me.” He coaxed.

           She shook her head adamantly. “I’m not-I can’t lose you. You’re my life…I love you too much and I-”

           “Sh…” He touched her cheek to stop her rapid-fire, panic. “Just look at me, aye?”

           Her hazel eyes finally met his. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “It’s not fair.”

           “Life ain’t fair.” He wiped her tears away with his thumb. “Don’t mean we can’t make the most of it. We can have the time of our fucking lives, Lou, do everything you want and still have enough time left to rest and do it all again. I ain’t dying today.”

           She pressed her face into his shoulder and cried freely. “Promise me. Promise me you won’t leave me.”

           Alfie would wrestle with fate for as long as he could. He wouldn’t let Death take him away from her until he was absolutely sure it was time. “I promise.” He rubbed her back comfortingly. “Let’s make the best of our life, yeah? We’re in Paris for fuck’s sake.”

           He finally drew a tearful laugh out of his wife.

           “Yeah?” He smiled and kissed her hair. “We’ve got a lovely little place on the beach, we’ve got the bakery in Camden, and we’ve got a fucking mansion in Surrey. We need to have a kid to fill up all that space, don’t we?” He murmured adoringly.

           She nodded. “Yeah…”

           “Well, then, can’t have a kid if we’re all worried ‘bout the future.” He soothed. “Come what may, love, yeah?”

           “Come what may.” She whispered back to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Alfie took Louise out dancing that night to further pull her mind away from the unknown diagnosis. He couldn’t hold a candle to the French youth who lived to dance to the upbeat jazz music in the thriving club scene. But he held her close and swayed with her as she talked in his ear over the loud band. They talked about everything that wasn't the mark on Alfie's shoulder. He did everything he could to keep her mind off of it and direct her attention back to the honeymoon that she deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~

           The next morning, Alfie took her to Luxembourg Gardens. A large fountain had toy sailboats that floated along, young children along the edges using long sticks to push them along. It was a beautiful summer day and no clouds inhibited the sun.       

         Louise sat down on the ledge of the fountain, watching the little boats. Her mind was still occupied with Alfie’s potential cancer. Although they had spoken about it in the Louvre, she couldn’t stop worrying.

           “Alright?” Alfie stood in front of her, leaning on his cane.

           She nodded. “It’s too lovely of a day not to be.” She shrugged and smiled slightly. “I’ll be okay.”

           “I’m sorry, Lou, I wish I could make it easier but…”

           “Pardon Monsieur, can I use this? My sailboat’s stuck” A young boy came up and tugged on Alfie’s sleeve. He pointed to Alfie’s cane.

           “Uh…” He looked to his wife.

           “He wants to use your cane.” Louise saw a lonely little sailboat that was static in the still water.

           “Oh.” Alfie picked up his cane and knelt down to try and steer the ship back to the edge. “Here it comes, back to shore.”

           The boy smiled and picked the boat out of the water. “Merci!” He said before running off to find his parents.

           “It would so nice to have a little boy, don’t you think?” Louise wondered out loud.

           “Well, figure any child of yours would be polite.” Alfie shrugged and sat down beside her. He stretched out his legs and set his cane to the side.

           She smiled and took his hand. “I mean having a girl would be lovely. Either way, I would be happy. I just could see a little boy that looks like you. Blue eyes and all.”

           He chuckled and shook his head. He lifted his face to soak up a bit of the warm rays. “Wouldn’t want him to end up like me though. World don’t need another Alfie Solomons.”

           “No one could replace you, not even your own son.” She laughed softly and cuddled close to him.

           He kissed her forehead and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Tommy Shelby’s always talking ‘bout transitioning into a legitimate business.”

           “Could he?”

           Alfie shrugged. A light breeze blew through the park, the sailboats picking up speed. “S’pose it’s possible.”

           Louise grazed her fingers over his thigh and knee. “Maybe you could too.”

           He grumbled and tilted his head to the side. His hand came to rest over hers. His gold wedding band glinted in the sunlight. “Maybe. Maybe, love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Alfie didn’t want to return to London and he had several reasons why. He knew the second they got back to Camden Town, Louise would be pushing him into a doctor’s office. The prospect of definitively finding out he had cancer was not on the top of his to-do list. He wasn’t sure when Luca Changretta was planning on appearing, but it had to be soon and Alfie didn’t want Louise in London when he did show up.

           But they had to return sometime. Alfie was sure the men at the bakery had a long enough vacation. He needed to make sure he was still an authority figure.

           Louise woke up a little later than usual. Alfie hadn’t woken her up because he wanted to grant her the luxury of sleeping in. He’d left a note on his pillow.

           Mrs. Solomons,

           Thought you might want to sleep in a bit. It’s a lovely day out so I thought you might want to walk. If not, have Evelyn call Ishmael to bring the car around.

           Love, Alfie

           Louise smiled and tucked the letter away to keep. She usually kept most of his letters because of her sentimental heart. After getting dressed, Louise began to walk to the bakery with Cyril. The bullmastiff was thrilled she and Alfie were back. He trotted alongside her, his ears perked up and listening to the sounds of the city around him.

           “Mornin’ Mrs. Solomons.”

           Louise glanced over to see two gentlemen she’d never met before in her life. Yet they had greeted her by name and tipped their caps in respect. “Oh, good morning.” She smiled but was confused. Despite the odd interaction, she kept walking. As she did, a few more unfamiliar people greeted her by her married name and a few mothers made sure their children didn’t run into her path. It was peculiar. Never before had she been treated that way in Camden or anywhere to be precise.

~~~~~~~~~~

           “Mornin’ Louise.” Ollie greeted her at the door. He took Cyril’s lead from her.

           “Ollie, has my husband been threatening the town to be nice to me?” Louise asked.

           “Threatening…well, I don’t know ‘bout that.” Ollie walked with her on her way to her desk. “Think people are glad Alfie’s married now. Takes the edge off him a bit, doesn’t it?”

           “I suppose. But I don’t want people treating me differently.”

           The young man shrugged. “I wouldn’t question it. He’s happier now and wants the world to know he’s married. It’s better than grumbling about the hot weather.”

           Louise smiled. “It sure is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

           “Right, let’s see,” Alfie grunted as he climbed the stairs of the elegant building, his hips stiff as a board. His protection followed as they approached the railing that overlooked the viewing ring below. The man scoured the crowd until he saw a familiar face among the elite members of British society.

           “Tommy Shelby.” He clapped the man on the back.

           The Blinder was with the majority of his entourage. Johnny, Michael, Curly, John, Michael, and Arthur. They all visibly flinched as the gangster descended on them without warning. The other two eldest Shelbys instinctually reached for their handguns tucked away inside their coats.

           “Easy lads, easy.” Alfie held up his hands to symbolize peace. “This is a posh event, this is. Not looking to get blood on the walls of this fine place now, am I?”

           Arthur and John grimaced but withdrew their hands from inside their coats when their brother waved them off.

           “Alfie, this isn’t your usual haunt.” Tommy leaned up against the railing, a cigarette hanging from his lips per usual.

           “Yeah, well, the missus has a birthday next week.” Alfie rested on his cane to try and ease the pressure off his hips.

           “Heard you got married Alfie, how’d you manage to pull that one off?” John asked a smirk crossed his face as he did his best to goad on the unpredictable man.

           Michael chuckled and shook his head. “Probably kidnapped her.” He added.

           “You’re, a funny one, ain’t you?” He wasn’t in the mood to be played with because he was focused on Louise’s present. But he wouldn’t let the Shelby boys get the last word. “Nah, mate, your brother sent her my way, right?” He placed a hand over his heart. “And she’s fucking perfect in every way, innit she, Tommy?”

           A hint of a smile crossed Tommy’s face but he didn’t comment.

           “’Course she fucking is. And I tell ya what.” Alfie stepped closer to Michael and John. “When you’ve got your own firm and you’ve got a right gorgeous woman bent over your desk with a diamond the size of your pea-sized brain on her finger, you call ol’ Alfie, and I’ll laugh at your jokes all fucking day.” Normally, he wouldn’t be so crass when talking about his wife. But it was the Shelbys and Louise wasn’t there to scold him.

           Michael and John stared at him, mildly thrown off by the raunchy description but didn’t say anything in return.

           “Yeah?” He nodded curtly and gave them a smug look. “Good lads.”

           Tommy rolled his eyes but smiled. “Right, you lot, fuck off.” He said and shooed them away.

           “Tom…” Arthur was hesitant as he eyed Alfie suspiciously.

           “S’alright, go on.” He insisted. The group obliged but stayed on the second floor just in case. “We were happy to hear the wedding went smoothly.”

           “Yeah, well, we’re very happy too. Bought the estate that’s been in Louise’s family for-fucking-ever. This place, s’got beautiful pastures and a stable. So, figure it could use some animals.” Alfie shrugged. “My Lou grew up riding, grew up in a right wealthy family, she did. Now she’s got me and I still think she deserves those bits of luxury. And if there’s one man who knows best ‘bout horses, it’s Thomas Shelby. 'Cause I don't know a thing about these fucking beasts.” He poked the man in the shoulder.

           He smiled and nodded. It was refreshing to see Alfie gushing over spoiling his wife instead of threatening to shoot him. “What did you have in mind for her?”

           “She likes them thoroughbreds but those fuckers have hot blood, don’t they? Want to get her something safe, even-tempered, sound. Don't want her getting thrown.”

           “So, you want a horse with a personality opposite of yours.” The blue-eyed man teased deadpan and flicked a bit of ash off his cigarette.

           “Well, she’s got me already, don’t think she needs two of me.” Alfie was a little more willing to Tommy make jabs at him. He’d probably earned the right a while back after all the times Alfie held a gun to his head.

           “Right, I’ll help you.”

           Feeling at ease despite the unfamiliar setting, Alfie set his cane to the side and rested his forearms on the railing in front of them. “Buying another racehorse?”

           “Looking to, yeah.” Tommy’s eyes followed the horse in the ring but didn’t seem interested because he didn’t join in on the bidding.

           “How’s your boy? How’s Charlie?” He’d gotten a bit better at small talk, mostly because of Louise and moving out to the countryside. The elderly neighbors down the road decided to introduce themselves and Louise had to stop Alfie from bringing his gun to the door. Now Mr. and Mrs. Wilson treated Louise like she was their daughter and thought Alfie was just a gem. It was probably the first time anyone had, aside from his wife, and it made him feel uncomfortably strange. He had to chalk it up to Louise painting him in a holy light.

           “He’s good,” Tommy answered, his eyes lighting up as they usually did at the mention of his son. “Turning three next month. He's getting to be so tall for his age.”

           “Fucking hell, those little things grow like weeds. ‘Fore you know it he’ll be out being a Peaky Blinder, fucking up Birmingham.”

           Tom smiled and shook his head. “Promised Grace he’d be kept away from all that. We’ll be a legitimate business by then anyway. Won’t grow up the way I did.”

           Alfie nodded but didn’t believe anything of the sorts would become a reality. Their world was just a cycle. He’d mulled over the idea after his discussion in Paris with Louise. But he wasn’t sure it was ever possible. Of course, he would do anything for his wife but sometimes the lifestyle just didn’t mesh with hopes and dreams.

           “How about you and Louise? Setting up to have kids, eh? Bet it’s a fucking big house for just the two of you.”

           He scratched at his beard. “Well, we discussed it, yeah? I guess we’ll cross that fucking bridge when it comes. Still, in that honeymoon time, it really mucks up your brain, don’t it?”

           “Can’t have Alfie Solomons off guard, now.”        

           “Yeah, well.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Now, what ‘bout that one?” He asked when the next horse was led out. “Beautiful, innit?” Alfie wanted something gorgeous for his new wife and he thought the eye-catching black mare would do just the trick.

           “Looks like a Friesian.” Tommy watched the horse. “Seems quiet enough. You’ll want to get it properly trained either way.”

           But Alfie had already decided and began bidding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           “Again?” Louise had sighed but smiled when her husband wrapped a tie around her eyes to blindfold her.

           “We’re not going far.” He promised. “S’your birthday, Lou, you need at least one surprise.”

           The July morning was warm but not unbearable like it had been all week. There was a light breeze traveling through Surrey and it kept Inglewood a bit cooler. It was barely nine in the morning and Alfie had already showered his wife with gifts. But he made her wait until after breakfast for the biggest surprise.

           “It’s outside?” Louise asked when she heard him open the back door. The summer sun kissed her face and arms. The sound of the bees buzzing in the garden gave her an idea of where they were.

           “Well, couldn’t have it in the house, could I? Would be too big and make a mess of everything.” He chuckled and led her down the path to the stables. He kept one arm steady on her shoulder and held her other hand to guide her.

           “Hm…too big to have in the house? Is it a car?” She guessed.

           He laughed and shook his head. “F'you want a car, love, you’ll have to wait for the holidays. It’s not a car.”

           “Well, then what on earth wouldn’t fit in the house?”

           He squeezed her hand. “I s’pose that’s the thing ‘bout surprises, you’ve got to wait to find out, silly girl.”

           Louise stuck her tongue out at him and pouted. “Really, Captain Solomons? You’re teasing me on my birthday? I don't think that's very kind of you at all.”

           “I think this’ll make up for it.” They arrived at the stables and Alfie waved for the newly hired stable hand to bring out Louise’s present.

           “Can I see now?” She asked and reached for the blindfold.

           “Sure.” He slowly untied it, letting her wait a few more moments.

           Louise heard a soft nicker and the familiar sound of hooves on the gravel drive. Her heart skipped a beat as she figured out what the present was. She gasped softly when the blindfold was finally removed. “Alfie!”

           The stunning Friesian stood a few feet in front of her. The mare tossed her head, shaking out her long mane. She was proud in stature with a well-defined form and a glossy coat. It reminded Louise her favorite book as a young girl, Black Beauty. A gorgeous horse as black as night with an alluring quality about it.

           “Tommy Shelby helped me pick her out,” Alfie explained. “D’you like her?” He asked hopefully.

           “Oh, Alfie, she’s gorgeous.” Louise approached the mare, letting her sniff her hand. The young horse eagerly searched her for any treats, her muzzle grazing over the waist of her skirt. “Sorry, love, I don’t have anything to give you right now.” Louise stroked her hand over the mare’s silky black coat.

           Alfie kept his distance. He was not familiar with horses in the slightest and a little unnerved at how big the mare’s hooves were. He thought it was remarkable that Louise was so comfortable around her. “She’s five-years-old, already broken in. But I figured we could hire someone to train her. Tommy’s got a woman he trusts. Said she could come here to help.”

           Louise nodded. “It’s been a while since I’ve ridden.” She admitted. The Friesian let her stroke her cheek and fuss over the tiny white patch in the shape of a crescent moon under her forelock. “What’s her name?”  

           “May Carleton, she doesn’t live too far from here. Trains Tommy’s horses for Epsom.”

           “No, no, the horse’s name.”

           “Oh, well.” Alfie dug through his pocket to pull out the certificate for the mare. “Midnight in Surrey. But I figured you could give her a proper name and not that fucking mouthful.”

           Louise thought to herself for a moment as she affectionately stroked the horse’s neck. Several names flitted through her head all with deep meaning to her life, but she came up with one that was very special to her. “I want to name her Paris.” She decided.

           “Paris?” He nodded and smiled. “Seems like a good fit to me.”

           Louise drew away from the mare. She hugged her husband tightly and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

           “I love you too, love, happy birthday.” He murmured. If only they could stay in that moment. A warm summer day in July. London was far away and there was no use worrying about it. But once the sharp chill of winter arrived, everything would change.

Permanent Tag List: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​

Tag List: @vehement-care​ @kimmietea​ @eleventhdoctorsangel​ @fire-treasure-iii​ 

Masterpost

PB Masterlist 

[flowerfan2]

Gray Skies - Ch. 5

Living with depression doesn't have to mean living without love.

Begins during 10.09.

Chapter 5

The morning after they kiss, Steve can’t stop smiling.  And it seems like Danny can’t either.

The moment Danny’s lips touched Steve’s, it was as if something blossomed inside of him.  He wasn’t even surprised by it, not really, it felt so right to have Danny there against him, brushing softly at his mouth, then pulling back with a look so full of hope it made Steve’s heart soar.

Steve didn’t waste any time before pressing back to kiss Danny again, not wanting him to wonder for a moment about whether Steve was on the same page.  Steve’s eagerness made Danny laugh under his breath, and then they were both chuckling and grinning, arms tangled up and hands clutching at shoulders and t-shirts.

They didn’t go very far, trading daring but fairly chaste kisses for what seemed like hours, then falling asleep wrapped around each other.  But it seemed to Steve like a great chasm had been crossed, a weighty question answered, and he can’t remember the last time he felt so good.

And now it’s the next day, and Steve still feels the high from the night before.  He thinks Danny does too, the way he boosts himself up on the kitchen island and bats his lashes at Steve until Steve swings by and leans in to kiss him, the scent of coffee and toothpaste on Danny’s breath far more enticing than it has any right to be.

Steve knows this won’t fix anything, he knows that being in love doesn’t cure depression.  He knows the high is sure to be followed by a low.  

Still, when a few days later Danny snaps at him that he’ll be in late, telling Steve to leave him alone and go do his job, Steve can’t help but be disappointed.  He sits on the side of the bed for a few minutes, thoughts going every which way, until Danny rolls over and presses his face into Steve’s thigh.

 “Sorry, babe,” Danny mutters. “I’m an ass.”  

 Steve feels a surge of guilt.  He hadn’t meant to make Danny feel worse. If he did, he’s the ass in this particular scenario.

“No, no.  It’s okay, Danno,” Steve says, stroking Danny’s messy hair and leaning his head down to press his forehead against Danny’s.  “We’re good.”

 “I’m sorry,” Danny whispers again, and Steve slides down to wrap his arms around his shoulders.

 “It’s really okay, I get it,” Steve says, holding him tight and pressing a kiss to Danny’s scratchy cheek. “You haven’t had your coffee.”  As if that was the problem.  

 “I’m not gonna blow off the whole day, I promise.  I just need a little more time.”

 “Take the time you need.”

 Danny mock glares at him.  “If you’d let me go back to sleep, I would.”

 Steve snorts.  “Fine.  Want me to come back and pick you up for lunch?”

 “Sure, whatever.”  Danny flops over and wraps himself in the blanket, putting an end to the conversation for better or worse.  

 As he drives to work, Steve can’t stop thinking about whether he’s going in the right direction.  Should he be staying home with Danny instead?  Would he be taking better care of his partner if he stayed in bed with him until Danny was able to get up?  It’s certainly not what Danny said he wanted.  And Danny’s not new to this rodeo.  

 Steve keeps on driving towards the palace, choosing to take Danny at his word.  This time, at least, he’ll trust that Danny knows what he needs. Steve knows his ever-present paternalistic streak can be overwhelming, and he doesn’t want to start off their new relationship stepping over Danny’s wishes.  This doesn’t mean that he won’t check in a few too many times, but he’ll do it on his phone, not from the doorway of the bedroom.

 When he gets to the office he’s greeted by the lilting sound of Kono’s voice.  She’s in town for a Kalakaua cousin’s wedding, someone she used to babysit and who has now grown into a tall, lithe, younger version of Kono.  Kono had emailed him weeks ago about stopping by during her visit, but Steve had totally forgotten about it.  

 Kono doesn’t mind, smiling brightly and launching herself at Steve for a tight hug.  She’s been chatting with Tani and Junior, who are already entranced by her, and reluctantly move away as Kono follows Steve into his office.

 “Where’s Danny?”  Kono asks, after glancing back at the door, clearly having expected him to come in with Steve.

 “Gonna be late today,” Steve says, striving for a nonchalant tone.  “Probably in by lunchtime.”  Kono accepts it, and steps closer, a hand on Steve’s arm, to offer her condolences on Doris.

 Steve’s voice catches in his throat as he thanks her, and he wonders how long it will be before he can have a normal conversation about his mother.  It floors him, over and over, that she’s gone, how it happened. How Steve failed to prevent her death.  He still wakes up sometimes and has to shake himself, not wanting to believe it.

 Steve spaces out for a bit, as Kono talks about her current project and how hard it has been to get funding lately, and then tunes back in when Kono mentions Danny’s name.

 “I brought Danny some of that maple syrup he likes,” Kono says.  “For his famous pancakes, assuming he still eats them - maybe I’ll drop it by his house.”

 Steve panics for a moment, and then clears his throat.  “Yeah, about that.”

 “What, did he finally have to cut pancakes out of his diet?  I know how proud Danny is of his trim figure, but brah, pancakes are special.  I can’t believe he’d deprive Charlie of the Williams tradition.”

 “No, Danny still loves pancakes, that hasn’t changed.  But he, um, he’s not at his house.”

 “He’s not?”  Kono narrows her eyebrows at him.  “Where is he, then?”

 “He’s staying with me.”

 A number of complicated expressions pass over Kono’s face, and she stands up, looking through the glass walls of Steve’s office at Tani and Junior by the computer table and Lou in his office. (Adam, apparently keeping track of Kono’s plans than Steve, has made himself scarce today.)  “Wanna go get some coffee?”

 Steve breathes out a relieved sigh. Kono always knows when he needs to talk. “Thought you’d never ask.”

 They grab their drinks at a kiosk in the shopping center, then head to Ala Moana park.  Kono kicks off her sandals when they get to the beach and keeps going towards the water, so Steve follows suit.  It isn’t until they’ve got their toes in the ocean that their conversation returns to Danny.

 Although, as it turns out, it’s also really about Steve.

 “Danny told me he was keeping a close eye on you, since you’ve been back,” Kono says.  “I hadn’t realized that he was still living at your place.”  She says this with a gentle smile, her face full of concern.

 Steve shifts uncomfortably.  “The situation with my mom was pretty intense, and I was pretty shaken by it.  Danny’s been great.”  He glances at Kono, but she has returned her gaze to the cloudy horizon.  “I think he was worried about me.”

 “I know he was,” she says softly.  “He cares so much about you.” She steps a little deeper into the water, holding her sundress up with her free hand.  “Danny and I have been through some similar things.  We used to talk about it, sometimes, before I left.  When we were working together every day.”

 Kono seems to be having a hard time speaking her mind, which is unusual.  Steve is suddenly paying close attention to her body language, noticing that her shoulders are curving in just a bit, her posture a little less tall.  She shoots Steve a questioning glance, and Steve realizes that she’s trying to figure out how much Steve knows; she doesn’t want to violate Danny’s privacy.  But he’s not really sure what he’s at liberty to say.

 Kono bites her lip, and then seems to decide how to approach the topic.  “I was pretty depressed, after I blew my knee out and had to leave the circuit. Surfing had been my life, you know?”

 “I know,” Steve says.

 “I was so down, it was hard to shake it, even when I found my new career with you and Five-0.  It would hit me again, every once in a while.  Danny always seemed to recognize it.”

 “I get that.  Same with me.  Danny, noticing when I was down, I mean.”

 “That’s why he moved in, right?”

 “Yeah, although… it’s not the only reason he stayed, I don’t think.”

 Kono appraises him, and the years seem to suddenly show in her eyes.  “Danny’s having a rough time too these days?”

 Steve nods, sharply.  “Yeah.”

 “You’re looking out for each other.”

 “Yeah.”

 Kono studies him for another moment, and nods.  “That’s good.”  She stares at Steve until he starts to fidget, and then she smiles.  “Always wondered when you two would get it together.”

 Steve can feel a blush on his cheeks, and he wonders how Kono knows.  It’s only been a few days since they kissed.  Although he’s certain there’s been something there for a lot longer.

 He doesn’t want to deny it, and he doesn’t think it would do any good anyway.  “I’m just lucky he puts up with me.”

 Kono’s got a glint in her eye. “True, very true.”  She turns to walk back up the beach, and Steve hurries to catch up.  When they get back to the road, shoes on and coffee cups dropped in the trash barrel, Kono smiles up at him, all teasing gone.  “I’m so proud of you guys.  It’s been a long time coming.”

 Steve must let some of his worry show on his face, because she embraces him and squeezes tight.  “I know it might seem tough, and I’m probably the last person who should be giving out relationship advice.  But take the happiness when you can, all right?  And hold each other even when you can’t. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

 Steve lets himself rest against Kono’s slender frame, just for a few seconds, and absorbs her words along with her warmth.  Caring so much about Danny is definitely hard, especially on a day like today, with Danny home instead of at his side.  But when he thinks about how happy Danny was a few days ago, how happy they both were….  Moments like that, he thinks, are definitely worth going through some tough times.  

 “Thanks, Kono,” he whispers, and she presses a kiss to his cheek.  

 “Don’t mention it.”  She pulls back and flashes him a sunny smile. “Now, why don’t you give Danny a call, and see if he minds if an old friend crashes your lunch?”

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 28 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: I am really proud of and happy with this part; I cried like four times while I edited it. While I’m writing I can never really tell how my stuff is turning out; only reading over it later do I get a real feel for it, and this one made me feel some BIG emotions, which is always the goal with Duckenzie. As for the details, as usual: There are basically an infinite number of combinations of food you can put in tinfoil dinners; here’s 30 examples. The fire pit enclosure is built like this (but with brick instead of gravel), the copper pit itself looks sort of like this, but embedded in the pit. Obviously, both Duncan and Kenzie manifest Pyrokinesis in this part. In my AU, neither Kenzie nor Duncan are as powerful as their Michael/Mallory selves, as I mentioned before (more about that later); and Duncan’s right, Kenzie is more powerful than he is, and she always will be. ROCK A LITTLE is MY favorite of Stevie’s solo albums, so I made it Kenzie’s favorite, naturally. It’s wildly underrated in my eyes, an album with very strong feminine energy, and an incredible album to dance to (like Stevie, I think of Kenzie as always dancing). TALK TO ME is one of my favorite Stevie songs, period; it’s about the connection you have with someone when you can see who they really are, the assurance sent out that you love them unconditionally; of course it fits Duckenzie, because their love for each other is absolute. I also wanted to play on the idea of them needing to talk to each other out loud versus being able to really hear each other--that is, feel what the other is feeling--without words.The sound system built into the stone path is something like this. I cut Duncan’s dream off before Michael’s snow goes evil--I wanted the moments after they wake up from the dreams to be happy and sexy, but he will find out about his Michael!otherself soon enough, just as Kenzie will learn of her Mallory!otherself...very, very soon, in fact. I realized after I wrote this part that @spellman made a gifset awhile back featuring both of the scenes Duncan and Kenzie dream about, which is so perfect, here. I also really realized consciously for the first time that while Michael’s hair is blonde and Mallory’s chestnut-brown, my Kenzie’s is chestnut-blonde and Duncan’s is a russet-brown, which is sort of a lovely dichotomy between the two universes (I live for shit like that). Don’t worry, Kenzie’s going to get a ring (my dream ring asdhdjdgsh), but i wanted her initial acceptance of Duncan’s proposal to be more organic, and I’m so happy with it here--Duncan is ostensibly offering himself rather than anything material in that moment, which was SO important to me. Can’t wait to write the scene where Duncan calls Madeline Momby to her face for the first time. Soon. The next part is Big Cosmic Vibes and I can’t wait for everyone to read it. As ever, your asks, comments, likes, edits and reblogs mean everything to me.

Kenzie ran up the stairs towards the bedroom, heart hammering. What is that place. That place surrounded by black oaks, growing impossibly close together, so quietly, with no wind? Like a doorway. Like that hidden door that flew open for us when we met. It’s one of those places. There was one on that balcony that night; the roses, the solitude, the quiet beauty of that evening. That was a thin place too. I see that now. Duncan and I were meant to meet each other that way, in that thin place; to see each other. To recognize each other.

Because--what. We’re fucking Soulmates. I think that’s what it means. I don’t know. But I think so.

Kenzie pitched herself down to her suitcase, tossing it sideways, unzipping it in the fading light of the bedroom. The window was still open--the coming night was drifting in, tossing the tiny flowers in her hair. Kenzie thought of how Duncan had appeared in the doorway that afternoon; after he’d fucked her so passionately on the silken softness of this vast bed, left the loving marks of his attention on her--you have magic in you that you’ve only begun to discover, Duncan Shepherd. Together we are going to do something incredible, something we can’t see the exact shape of yet, but when we’re together I can feel the magic growing, like a tree that took root in the center of my body, and now it’s shooting up and its leaves are reaching through my arms and my throat and around my heart and filling my mind with their gold and every part of me is tingling with it, it’s like the way I feel when we fuck, it’s so beautiful and intense I can’t breathe. It’s the rightness of it that moves me so much. It’s the exact right thing. You, and the energy that is being stirred up between us. It’s our destiny.

She wrapped the grey cardigan around her shoulders and pulled out Duncan’s Brooks Brothers’ cardigan after it--for him. Let him wear it tonight, wrapped in the scent of me now, as once it smelled like him so much, comforting me when I told Momby I loved him. The tender way he wrapped it around me after that first night--I saw the promise in his eyes. Even then, I knew. We both did. 

Kenzie stood and gathered Duncan’s discarded shirt from its pile beside the bed, then flipped the slender copper standing lamp beside the door on before she left--it illuminated Cupid and Psyche in its rich glow. Kenzie stared at it, bathed in the soft light; her eyes drifted over the flowers in Cupid’s hair, sweet alyssum, a crown for a prince of beauty. My prince. Maybe someday we can hang this picture somewhere in the garden house.

Kenzie suddenly felt like crying. Fuck. I love him so much. Oh, Kenzie Lou. You must have really paid your dues in another life. Just be grateful for every minute, every second with him. Watch the wondrous way the light is kindling up in his soul. It’s so beautiful I could just die.

Kenzie started at the stop of the stairs, then stopped.

I wonder if I can do that. What Duncan did. Appear somewhere else.

She gathered the cardigan and Duncan’s shirt in her arms against her chest, tightly--then Kenzie closed her eyes, biting into her lip. The deck. I want to be on the deck. For a moment, there was nothing--the silence extended, nothing moved, there was no sound in the house but the whispering rattle of the summer wind upstairs through the open window; the softest calling of a loon out on the lake, far off.

And then, she shifted. And she felt the wind on her cheeks distinctly, could feel the change in the air; the richness of all the scents of nature. Kenzie opened her eyes. Duncan was coming through the deck door from inside, the fireside cooking kit under his arm, a long box of tinfoil atop it, and in his other hand a carefully-balanced serving plate of the cold chicken seasoned with lemon pepper, red chili pepper and garlic, raw carrots and celery and some of the little sweet peppers, also tossed in the seasoning and olive oil--Kenzie could see them glistening in the low light.

“Baby. I did it. I just did it.” Kenzie hopped on the heels of her sneakers, overcome; she clapped her hands and rushed to him, carefully gripping the bottom of the plate, setting it on the deck’s round wooden table. Duncan stared down at her, puzzled for a moment, then a dawning expression of understanding came into his eyes.

“You appeared down here. You moved. Like I can. Fuck.”

“Dunny. I bet you can do things I do, too. Try it. Try moving something.”

Duncan blew air out of his nose, set down the other things he was holding. “Okay.” He closed his eyes for a moment, held his palm out flat towards the serving tray. For a moment, one of the carrots shivered, then rolled; back and forth, as if pushed by a particularly strong gust of wind. Then as Kenzie’s eyes focused on it, it shot into Duncan’s palm, leaving a trail of olive oil along his skin. Duncan grinned at her, his blue eyes lifting up in the shadows that had begun to gather around them, flashing almost white; then he laughed in amazed wonder, throwing the carrot into his mouth and crunching it with a triumphant immediacy, and Kenzie hopped on her heels again, laughing with abandon, too.

“This is fucking amazing,” he whispered as he swallowed. His hair was wind-tossed, his expression achingly sincere; his eyes seemed to be an indigo sky with drifting, shadowed clouds. Kenzie ran to him and threw her arms around him; she could feel the goosebumps that covered him now, and immediately unfolded his shirt in her hands, pulling it around him--he slipped his arms through, his expression full of aching affection for her.

“And now it smells like me,” she added, gently holding out the black cardigan as Duncan worked at the shirt’s buttons. He took it from her, almost reverently, pulled his arms through it and as Kenzie watched, heart aching, he brought the sleeves up to his nose, closing his eyes.

“It really does. Since I can’t really fit into any of your other clothes, this is the next best thing.” He gathered her against him. Kenzie, my sweet little firefly. We can do magic. Can you feel that? The air is vibrating because of us. It’s coming from us. Kenzie buried her face in the softness of his shirt, gripping onto the edges of the cardigan, lost in the feeling of him; you’re so much bigger than me, my sweet Dunny, you’re so warm, you could be my blanket at night, my coat in the winter. You are. You’re my shelter from everything. And here are the tears again; tears forever and ever. I don’t think I’ll ever stop crying again.

“Kenzie, cry as long as you want to.” Duncan’s lips were at her ear, the night wind drifting as the sun began its final descent below the horizon. “You can always cry with me, baby. I love you. I’ll kiss every fucking tear.”

The fairy lights along the deck had come on, and there seemed to be a hundred of them, in dipping echelons all along the sides of the surrounding fence, lifting up to the lintels. Kenzie noticed tiny lamps, embedded in the ground along the sides of the stone path, for the first time; they extended all the way to the dock and encircled the gazebo. Duncan must have set the timer, Kenzie thought, and more tears leaked from her eyes. Baby, you’re so thoughtful. You remember all the little things I say even when I don’t realize you’re listening. Duncan didn’t speak, but she felt the drift of his reply: everything you say I hold close to my heart. I wish I could memorize all of it--I wish I could tattoo your sweet voice onto my skin. It’s heaven to listen to you and I feel blessed that you would chose me to be the one to hear the things you say.

Kenzie looked up from the halo of his arms, past his earnest, dark-sky eyes, her gaze drawn up in shock--with a little gasp she realized the stars were coming out in earnest now, their cascade immediate, overwhelming, and deeply clear already. Nothing hindered the sky here; Duncan had been right. None of the haziness of neon lights to impede nature’s opulent display of cosmic wonders; a billion pricks of light were bursting in heaven, each one with a story so vast and infinite, Kenzie knew, it was enough to make one sob. She bit into her lip, pressing her cheek into his warmth again, closing her eyes; fuck, baby, that’s too fucking beautiful, I can’t stand it. She felt his cheek fall against the top of her head, and his arms held her so tightly they seemed to be crushing the breath from her lungs, but she didn’t care, no, no, to be inside his arms this way was the sweetest of all things, and she wanted it to go on forever. The thought of him letting go of her now made her want to wail like she was a little girl, bereft from the loss of Momby holding her. Her tears began to wet the front of Duncan’s shirt--she tried to lean back, upset to sodden it, but he shook his cheek against her.

“It doesn’t matter, baby, it doesn’t matter--I love you, I love you--”

Kenzie sniffled, letting out a shuddering breath, breathing the deep jasmine of his clothing into her; then she murmured “I’m hungry, baby, and I want music.”

“Mhmm, Princess Kenzie.” Duncan leaned his face down to her, kissing her wet cheeks, her mouth with tiny, tickling, pecking kisses--soon Kenzie was laughing through her tears, unable to contemplate anything but the sweetness of his touch now. Her stomach rumbled; Duncan gently let go of her and turned back to the dinner supplies.

“In the corner there, baby, you’ll see there’s a stereo setup.” Duncan nodded to the left side of the sliding door that led back into the cabin as he began to pull out two long sheets of the tinfoil. “Put something on. You’ll see. There’re hidden speakers all along the path,” Duncan said, “--and some in the gazebo, too. The music will echo everywhere. You can even hear it out on the lake for a little ways.”

“I should have known you’d know how to make tinfoil dinners without me telling you,” Kenzie shook her head, stepping away from him to where outdoor stereo system was protected under an awning that seemed to have been built specifically for it--she pressed a round power button and a menu came up on the interface with endless options; Sirius XM, Spotify, Pandora, and a digital library of over 100,000 songs. “Never met a rich boy who could cook like you. Then again--I didn’t meet many rich boys before you. Not my crowd.”

“I’m the only good one. Most rich people are terrible. Take it from someone who’s been around them their entire life.”

“That’s exactly the sort of thing a rich boy would say, Mr. Shepherd.” She turned back to him, sticking her tongue out, wrinkling her nose. Duncan had a laugh playing around his mouth now, glancing between her and his work as he arranged their dinners carefully on the foil sheets, the cold chicken in the centers surrounded by the vegetables, wrapping up the edges, making two foil lids to place atop them. She went back to the stereo, opening Spotify, searching for a specific album.

“But you actually are good, baby,” she said, over her shoulder. “You’re so good it makes me want to scream, honestly--and the fact that you aren’t hiding it anymore is something you should be proud of. I remember this one interview I saw of yours on TV last year--oh god, this is funny to think about now, baby--but you were so stoic in it, I thought, god, he’s so fucking handsome, but he seems so cold. Well. Duncan Malcolm Shepherd: you’re a big faker.”

She looked back at him, smiling, playful. She could see the blush on his cheeks in the glow of the fairy lights, the admission on his face. You’re right, of course, baby.

“Guilty. I am. Or, well, I was. I was good at it, too.”

“I saw through you, right away. I never would have gone home with you otherwise.”

“I couldn’t believe it when you said you would. I was so fucking nervous, Kenz. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything as much as I wanted you. The minute I fucking laid my eyes on you. It was like being slapped in the face. My heart just--fucking stopped. Like I--I recognized you. Like I knew it was you.” Duncan was wiping his hands on a cloth napkin he’d tucked under the serving tray as Kenzie hit PLAY.

“This is my favorite of Stevie’s solo albums.” Kenzie came over to him, sitting at one of the deck chairs, its spindly finely-wrought metal reminding her of a throne. Duncan was taking the fireside cooking kit out of its box; he leaned over her to kiss her, and she lifted her hands up to this cheeks, holding him against her for a moment. I can’t wait...the first line echoed into an electronic wind-up--it rang out over the stone path and seemed to skim across the lakeshore, dancing off onto the serene surface of the water. Now that I love you…the riff of an electric guitar bled out, flitting away from them on the deck, down the lights, through the trees, and Kenzie rattled her head from side to side with the music, grinning now. Duncan dipped away from her, laughing at her. Love you love you love you--she could hear him humming against her mind, could feel the sincerity of him, like a mantra whispered into her ear.

“I’m gonna go get some wine,” she said, hopping up. He nodded, the portable stove-top under one arm, their wrapped dinners on the serving tray in the other. “Get that sauvignon blanc, baby--I think you’ll love that one.”

“It’s nice to have my own private sommelier,” Kenzie drolled, blowing a kiss towards him. Duncan made an overdramatic gesture of ardency, as though he’d been smacked in the chest with cupid’s arrow, pretending as though he were about to faint. Kenzie laughed delightedly. I love it when you’re like this with me. No walls up, unafraid, unworried. Just happy. She hopped up from the chair, watching him over her shoulder as he stepped carefully down to the fire pit on the brick inlet at the bottom of the stairs, admiring the curls at the back of his hair, the wideness of his shoulders, the smooth skin at the nape of his neck.

 Kenzie felt compelled to look above her again, at the radiant tapestry she knew was coming out there (the stars the stars galaxies the universe our universe, so vast in itself, so infinite), but forced herself on inside, through the sliding door at the ground level, to the side of the deck, closer to the kitchen. Soon we’ll lay under them and I’ll look for hours. I want to savor it. I want to wait a little bit longer before I really drink it in. I feel so overwhelmed--just getting to be alone together like this is a dream I never want to wake up from.

Kenzie moved through the side-room here, styled similarly to the front room; this alcove had several bookshelves, the books therein all of a similar, nature-oriented slant (she spotted Jack London and Henry David Thoreau as she walked past them), and another standing statue--this one was Artemis, her starry bow distinct, her hair tied back, a hound traipsing at her bare feet. Child of the moon; her only lover, Kenzie thought. To run always in the sweet embrace of the night--a night like this, but one that never ends. She could hear the music drifting in from the deck, Stevie’s distinct wail melting around her (well she dances around in circles, she’s got that feeling now)--the kitchen was half-lit by two identical, tiny lanterns that hung over the windows that looked out on the forest. Kenzie went to the picnic basket, now resting on the counter--Duncan had emptied it of their lunch and cleaned it--and pulled out two of the wine glasses, grasping one of the wine bottles that lined the lower shelf of the fridge (that sauvignon blanc--Duncan really does have excellent taste when it comes to wine, I’ve loved everything he’s picked out). She hesitated at the window, opening the wine with the bottle opener strapped to the top of the basket, looking out to where the dark pines dipped down. Her mind reached out to that circle of black oaks she knew lay just beyond. The gateway to another world.

She shivered, then made her way back outside.

The sharp smell of smoke on hickory hit her nose as she pulled the sliding door open with her elbow--Kenzie started with excitement as her eyes fell on the fire that now roared beyond the deck, its brilliant titian-white flaring up into the darkness. She could see Duncan standing to the side, illuminated in the light of it. He was staring down into it, standing beside the coppery basin of the firepit, his hand on his chin--he took her breath away for a moment, his expression serious and far-away, his blue eyes reflecting the licking flames with an eerie, ethereal beauty. There was something about him, silhouetted in the flames that way, that made her pause--stilled the excitement that had bubbled up in her, pressed strange apprehension into the corners of her mind--then it passed, as a vague dream, and Kenzie made her way down the steps, the wine and glasses in her hands.

“Shit, Dunny, you sure got that going fast,” she murmured, holding one of the glasses out to him. His eyes skirted to her--only then did Kenzie see the strange expression in them closely, the depth of his disbelief, his confusion. For a moment, they were both silent--the only sounds were the crackling fire, and Stevie’s soft voice--

No explanations and I tell you no...you say...nothing...that is how songs are written, stories are told, rumors are started...

“Kenzie.”

“Fuck, what is it, Duncan? What’s wrong?”

“I--the fire. I think I...I don’t know how I started the fire. I was piling the hickory in the pit and sort of, I dunno--thinking about the fire? I was thinking about it, imagining it. And then there was a fire. It was just--there. Kenz. It was just fucking there, flaring up like I’d doused the wood in gasoline and lit a match. Only I didn’t. All I did was think about fire.”

“Are you telling me you started the fire with your mind, Duncan?”

“Yes. Kenzie. Yes.”

Kenzie cupped her hand under his, which held the wine glass she’d handed him, limply. She dipped the bottle down into the rim, pouring until the glass was entirely full. Then she did the same for her own glass, setting the bottle on the round brick-lined slab of the pit’s outer enclosure.

“I wanna try.” 

Kenzie clinked her glass against his--as Duncan watched her, that confusion still in his fire-lit eyes, she gulped at the wine, draining it halfway. Then, Kenzie turned to where the portable cooking stove was sitting beside the pit, still unlit in Duncan’s distraction. She knelt down in front of it.

Fire, she thought, gathering the warmth she felt on her back from the pit, the flickering orange dancing at the corners of her vision. Fire. She imagined pulling elements out of the air--carbon dioxide, oxygen, nitrogen--whirling them together, combining them.

Then, the little stove was lit; she could see the blue flicker of the flame burst up from the element at the bottom, could feel its little wave of heat spurt out towards her hands.

“Fuck.” She looked up at Duncan, whose fingers were pressed on his lips now, his eyes intense on her--a smile broke across his face, his grin kindling her heart up like the flames. As she watched he drank deeply from the wine she’d poured him--knew he felt in need of its heady courage, drifting in confusion.

“Holy shit, baby.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We can--we can make fire.”

Kenzie stood, noticing her legs were shaking. What else can we do. What other wonders, my love. How far does this magick go? She stood facing him for a long moment--the rich scent of the fire was flushing down her senses, its flickering heat drifting her hair back around her face. She could see the white glow behind his eyes, the power that was hovering inside him in this space, beside the fire he had made. And Kenzie knew, with certainty, that it was because of her that this fire had woken inside him. Knew that it was her light that had brought him to life this way. And the deepest joy filled her, like the sunrise, like the dawn bursting over a cool horizon, dancing over a field caked in dew, warming the earth and everything it could reach--spreading itself infinitely, selflessly, without reserve. That’s how I feel towards you, beloved. I could give endlessly, and never grow tired; the more I give to you, the more I have to give.

Duncan rushed against her--she heard the pattering arc of his wine spilling onto the stones, sizzling droplets hitting the blazing fire. His lips fell into her hair, against her forehead, onto the space under her eye, the dip below her ear. She knew he could feel her; knew she didn’t have to speak, that he didn’t want to either, just wanted to bask in the glow of their extraordinary fire with her. You can talk to me, talk to me, you can talk to me, you can set your secrets free, baby--

“I wanna dance with you.” She was grinning into the sweet-smelling skin of his neck, straining up to him, his arms gathering her fiercely into him. “I love this song so much.”

Duncan laughed, pulling away from her. She could see the glittering tears, the fire reflecting them like diamonds in his eyes. He was shaking his head. “I don’t dance, baby--.”

“Oh yes, you fucking do!” Kenzie gripped the edges of his shirt, pulling his mouth down to her, lost in the woodsy scent along the prickly hairs there, smiling against him, beginning to sway, dipping her head back and forth. “How are we gonna get married if you won’t dance with me at our wedding?”

Duncan groaned at that, his longing absolute; she watched his face shift from embarrassment into one of absolute surrender. You got me. His body relaxed again from its momentary tension; the fire popped, a flare of brilliant orange flitting skyward, and he began to sway with her, leaning his forehead down onto hers as she gripped his collar possessively.

“Here it’s only us,” she whispered into the bridge of his nose. “There’s nobody else in the whole world, baby, just us, just me and you and this magick, this night--”

“Kenzie, Kenzie, my Kenzie…” Duncan murmured her name over and over, swaying against her, his face shifting, his lips falling down to speak against her mouth. The blue fire of you is so strong tonight, Duncan, beloved--it envelops me, fills the corners of my mind, the secret spaces of my body, the very center of my soul, but it doesn’t devour, no--it makes me greater. Inside your love this way, I am more whole. I am more myself than I ever thought possible. She leaned away from him, clutching his hands so he was supporting her weight as her head fell back, feeling her hair cascade down to brush along the soreness at her back, the memory of his devotions--Kenzie’s chin turned up to the stars again, finally. I’m ready now, baby. I can look now that I’m holding you. Her eyes opened--the multitude was there, as she knew it would be, and the sun was gone. In its absence, the infinite expanse of the hidden myriad; the unseen world. The cosmic tide.

Oh, let the walls burn down, set your secrets free, you can break their bounds, cause you're safe with me, you can lose your doubt, cause you'll find no danger here

She was gasping with it--the feeling of his hands, the absolute devastation of the stars above them. Who knew there were so many stars in this universe. I never really knew until this moment. They seemed impossibly bright and distinct, and she was shaken with them--had known she would be. They seemed to stare at her, at Duncan, at the fire they had birthed out of the ether; the stars seemed to know her, know them, and bless them. Those stars seemed to know and confirm what Kenzie knew in her heart to be true. Our destiny: to be together.

“I know,” he whispered. “There’s nothing like it. Nothing.” The fire popped again--the scent of burning hickory drifted up anew to them. Kenzie could hear the sizzling vibration of their dinners inside the stove’s rounded pot, forcing her eyes down from the heavens, her stomach rumbling again. Duncan was pulling away from her, reluctant but with purpose, draining his wine glass. “I’m gonna go get the blankets, baby. Let’s bring our dinner into the field. Let’s eat under the stars. The fire’ll be fine until we get back. It’s a strong fire--I--I know it is. I made it. I can feel it. How strong it is. It’ll last until morning.”

Kenzie felt her heart pounding in her throat--the certainty and strength in his gaze was so beautiful she felt faint with it. She nodded. He smiled (the smile of an angel) and stepped away from her, full of purpose. Kenzie drank her wine off as she waited for him, turning back to the fire, gazing deeply into it.

Pyrokinesis, that’s what they call it, she thought. The ability to create and manipulate fire with the mind. So we can move things, move ourselves, and create fire. I can heal people’s minds with soothing calm if I concentrate, if I will my healing gold--my energy--into them. And I invoke something in people now, too. Devotion. Trust. Goodwill. I always did, I think, but...now it’s stronger than ever. Now it’s something I can see immediately. And I think Duncan’s becoming that way too, as the light of our love really seeps into him, really touches his soul. The shadow in him will always be there, because it’s as essential a part of him as his deep goodness. The shadow is the outward self for him, the light the self within. For me, the light is outward, and the shadow within. Together we create something infinitely powerful.

Duncan was coming back, the picnic blanket tucked under one arm, two of the thick quilts under the other; his expression one of earnest happiness that clenched at her heart. Kenzie lifted the lid of the little cooking pot with a cloth napkin, a plume of steam rising up as she did, and knew their dinner was done. She placed the sizzling foil wraps on the serving tray with a pair of tongs; she dipped down to the burner underneath, hesitating for a moment, then, concentrated, drifted her fingers against the element, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, the fire had burned away--sucked back into the air, back into the energy it had occupied before. Thank you, she thought, sending her gratitude out into the night. Thank you for your gift.

“Wow,” Duncan breathed, watching her, eyes wide. “That was so beautiful, Kenz. That was so delicate and lovely. Everything you do is so lovely--the way you do this...this magic. It’s like you’re creating tiny worlds with your hands.”

Kenzie picked the tray up with both hands, smiling shyly at him. “It sort of feels like that, honestly. A tiny movement but with a huge, intricate thing inside it. It’s sort of like that.”

“I can see it. When you do it. Yours is more powerful than mine. Mine is clumsier, I have to concentrate for longer. Yours is...it’s so graceful. It’s an innate part of you. I think mine is stronger when you’re near me. When you’re away, it’s much smaller.”

“You’re in luck. I’m not going anywhere, Duncan Shepherd.”

“Baby,” he breathed, leaning down, eyes closing, brushing his mouth with aching tenderness against hers. She longed to touch his hands, but their hands were full--to the stars, the stars, her heart was pleading.

“Let’s go, baby, show me,” she whispered, and he nodded, stepping away, looking back to her. Come on, Kenzie Lou. This way.

------

They’d stepped off the path, away from the illumination of the house with its strings of fairy lights, the lamps lining the stone walkway. Here there was the outline of the forest to their left, and ahead, a thinner line of trees that she could in see beyond, see the dip of a slope, the skyline ahead, the slightest residue of night-kissed clouds drifting here, soon to dissipate. She could see the halo of Duncan’s curls, the dark slant of his back in the black cardigan, almost like a long cloak in this light, his towering height and the mounds of the blankets under his arms. He cocked his head back, his face shrouded in shadow but his eyes sharp azure, brimming with a titillating innocence here, in the balmy night, in the warm grasses, away from the clear path but knowing all the same. Kenzie felt faint with the surety she felt from him--knew how deeply he had hoped to show her this, whatever it was, knew how he had longed to, waited for this moment.

“The slope is a little bit sharp here, baby, so be careful, go slow,” he said, and she followed him through the thin line of trees, their whispering leaves brushing against her hair, as if they longed to kiss her. Kenzie’s eyes were adjusting to the dark now, and she could see the tiny bursting glow of fireflies drifting through the grass, along the treeline--she looked up and saw that the slope fell down in a slant of longer grasses, half-grown with early summer, and then drifted out to a field that extended for a hundred yards ahead, the forest surrounding on all sides. She felt sure the road lay somewhere far off into the distance to her right, but it wasn’t visible from this vantage, and they seemed to be utterly cut off from the modern world. Inside this vision before her, there was nothing but the open grass, the dark trees, the night in its full, fallen glory, and Duncan.

She followed him down the slope, eyes on her feet to keep herself steady on the incline, hands carefully gripping the corners of the tray, its deep heat soothing. Duncan looked back at her again, and she met his gaze, drifting out to him. Can’t wait to hold you soon. I’m gonna hold you under the stars and never let go. The slope ended and they were treading into the grasses now; into the center of the field. There were more fireflies here, but there was a surprising lack of other bugs--one of the fireflies drifted onto Kenzie’s hand and she looked down at it affectionately--hello, little one--its pulsing light crawling up her arm for a moment, then drifting away again out into the air.

Duncan stopped where the grasses seemed to dissipate, there was a flat circle of short grass here that almost seemed man-made, though Kenzie knew, somehow, that it wasn’t--the grass here just grows this way, she thought, certain. It’s always been this way. Duncan laid the picnic blanket down and then gathered the quilts atop it, then turned to her and grasped the tray. Kenzie smiled at him, sitting, gathering one of the quilts around her shoulders, and Duncan set the tray between them, settling down beside her.

“Kenzie. Look up.” Duncan’s hands reached out to her, gripping her fingers, steadying her. I’m here with you, Kenzie, my love. Then he drifted his head up, his adam’s apple dipping, his mouth opening a little, his eyes shining with impossible brightness (my love, she thought, your beauty is infinite, like these stars, I love you so much and when I die I’ll be reborn to find you again, I know it, I know, Duncan, I’m not afraid), and Kenzie did the same--lifted her eyes to heaven.

The stars were so distinct, so gloriously bright, so effulgent they seemed to burn her eyes. To try to contemplate all of them was like trying to sift out unique grains of sand from a desert; there are simply too many, too much--there’s too much, like the way I feel inside your love, there’s just too much, I can’t describe it, I can only feel it, Kenzie thought, her breath sighing out in a shivering gasp. She felt Duncan’s hands clutch her fingers more tightly, felt him lean closer to her to comfort her, the warmth and the scent of him drawing near.

“That’s the Summer Triangle,” she was whispering, her voice aching in the vast, illuminated shadows. His affection for her in this secret place felt like he was touching her on every part of her skin, and she felt tears on her cheeks again--it doesn’t matter, with him I can always cry. “Lyra, Cignus, and Aquila.” Kenzie pointed up, dipping her finger eastward to an area where the clusters of stars seemed their brightest; one star in particular pulsed in almost the exact center of the sky, its brilliance like a beacon shining down on them.

“What’s the bright one, there,” Duncan asked, his achingly beautiful hand drifting up to the centermost star. She glanced down at him again; Duncan’s eyes seemed illuminated with white once more, like balls of strange, lapis-tinted fire. His gaze was heavenward, the wind blowing his curls across his temple, into the blue nebula of his eyes; he reminded her again of a pious saint, the beautiful visage of some fresco of an angel in a holy temple; my beloved, you’re what the poets speak of, what the painters of the ages have sought to capture with their brushes and their paints and their hands. I chose you. I choose you--tonight, and for every day to come. And I, too, am infinitely blessed.  

“It’s Vega.” Kenzie brought her lips against the stubble on his chin--she felt Duncan turn his face down to her, his nose, then his lips brushing against her forehead with urgency, his hand coming up to hold her steady against him. Stay here, Kenzie, let me feel you in the sweet star-kissed darkness. “It’s one of the brightest stars in the sky, especially this time of year. It’s not that far away, at least, compared to most stars--only 25 light-years--then again, one light-year is over 5 trillion miles.” She grinned at him in the starry shadows; knew he could see her smile when his very white, straight teeth flashed back at her.

“God, we didn’t even need to bring that stargazing book, I guess it doesn’t matter that we forgot to bring it out here with us. I should have guessed you knew so much about the cosmos--everything you own has stars and moons on it.” His hands drifted down her arms, and Kenzie shivered, the bliss of this moment encompassing her.

“I don’t know that much--I mean, look at all of them,” and she blushed as his gaze stayed, steady, on her instead. “Look baby, look.” She pressed his chin up--Duncan’s eyes skirted to heaven, then back to her as if drawn by an invisible current. “There are so many. It would take my whole life to learn about all of them.”

“You look like that painting--Star of Heaven. The one I took the picture of you leaning on. Your hair is glowing, Kenz. Like it’s full of stars.”

“Let’s eat, baby,” Kenzie said, lost to any other reply, trembling under the weight of the emotion she felt here, in this place, with him, the fireflies drifting in languid arcs of bursting light, the sky awash with incalculable wonders. He was nodding, but his hand was drifting through the waves of her hair, as if tethered there, unable to break away.

“Eat your dinner, Duncan. Do as I say.”

“Yes, Princess Kenzie.” His hand drifted away, but Kenzie could see the reluctance on his cheeks in the bluish shadow--the moon was still corn-husk bright, but it was surrounded by wisps of cloud that seemed to swirl around it, and it alone--the rest of the sky was almost shockingly sharp and bright under the wide, open space of the field here, to a degree Kenzie simply couldn’t make sense of. Like all the other magick around us lately, I’m going to just accept it, and bask in its wonders.

They both unwrapped the foil at the same time--a plume of smoke drifted up from each, and Kenzie couldn’t help but wriggle with excitement again at the wonderful scent that rose from them. She stabbed into the tender chicken with her fork, bringing it up to her lips, blowing eagerly, then popping it, hot and juicy, into her mouth.

“Ugh. It’s perfect, Duncan. Everything is perfect.” Their hands came together again, feeling desperately for each other.  

“Kenzie. Today, in the woods--in that circle of oaks. Did you feel like--I dunno. Did you feel like we were in another place? It felt like we weren’t even on earth anymore. It felt like we went to another world. Did you feel that way? And I was calling you those strange names, but I don’t know where I heard them, or if I was imagining them, making them up, but...I don’t think so. I don’t think I was. I just--I don’t understand--the fire and--”

“Shhh, Dunny. I don’t know either. But I’m not afraid. I think--I think something is nearly here. It’s so close, can’t you feel it?” Kenzie set her fork down; drifted the very tips of her fingers down his palm, opened to her on his knee. Duncan looked up, as if the sky was less overwhelming than her eyes in this moment, less overwhelming than the strange wonders they’d experienced today.

“Yes, baby. I feel it.”

“We just have to--we just need to be patient for a little bit longer, I think. I think soon we’re going to understand things a lot better. Really soon. I just have this feeling, as if we’re standing in front of the next door on the path, and our hand is on the knob, and we’re about to turn it--”

“--And there’s just this little bit of time between the us and the door opening,” Duncan finished. “Yeah. Yes, baby. Yes. Okay.” He leaned down to his dinner, then, and she could feel the blue of his mind soothing, calming, settling down to indigo tranquility. They were both quiet then--they ate in a sweet silence that Kenzie cherished.

A little time passed--Duncan pushed his dinner away, his foil empty, and laid down on his back on the picnic blanket, one of the quilts under his head. Kenzie felt full and deliriously happy; Duncan pulled eagerly at her hand and she leaned down to him, pulling the other quilt over their legs, tucking her head down into the crook of his arm, breathing deeply at the smell of him--sweet jasmine, sharp cedar, the rain on a spring day in a green forest. Kenzie could feel something nagging at the blue patina of his thoughts again; something he was fighting to find words for, something that seemed vast and deep. Something from the woods. Something about those oaks all growing together, and the flowers in their swirling pattern. And my gold--the healing press of me against him now. The way I can soothe him so utterly, the way he knows it’s not just how much he loves me, or how much I love him, but an ability that I have. The magic that is mine and mine alone.

For awhile they laid there in the quiet, staring at heaven. Its dome of brilliant stars seemed almost unreal--simply too great, too imperceptible--and their thoughts were unclear to each other; his hand drifted through her hair, and Kenzie pressed her lips on the softness of his shirt under his breast. The moon drifted out from a cloud, then dipped behind another. Vega shimmered from the center of the sky--it seemed to look down directly on them, watchful, protective.

“Kenzie,” she heard his whisper, so soft she almost thought she’d imagined it.

“Yes? What is it, Duncan?” Somehow Kenzie knew that the thing he was going to say was going to shake her. Suddenly she was afraid--there was an immensity to this moment, a swooping, dropping sensation in her body. She tried to move her arms more tightly around him. Brace yourself, Kenzie Lou. This is the beginning of the revelations.

“In that circle in the woods....in the middle of everything. I had a realization. It was like...in that place, I could see everything about life more clearly. Everything about us, and the world, and the way it’s--it’s tied so loosely. I could see that we were in a--what did you call it--a thin place. Like we were close to other things. And I saw you...differently.”

“What do you mean, differently?” Kenzie brought her head up to look at him, her chin still resting on his chest. A firefly drifted past his russety curls, glowing faintly, then fading out.

“I mean--I saw what you really are.”

Kenzie smirked at him, despite the nervousness she felt fluttering in the center of her body.

“What am I? The Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

He grinned at her, twisting a lock of her hair around his hand, his gold bracelet glinting for a moment. You haven’t been wearing a watch lately, Kenzie thought. It’s like time doesn’t really matter anymore when we’re together, isn’t it, baby. It’s like that.

“Kenzie.” His expression softened; Kenzie could barely stand the emotion inside his gaze now. The blue center of a soft, drifting star. How I love your eyes, Duncan.

“Kenzie,” he said again. “You’re…”

She heard the thought before he spoke it. An angel. “An angel.”

“Baby, you always say that. You always call me that.”

“Kenz, no--I don’t mean like that. I mean you’re--I saw you. The real you. The you you were before this life, before this world, or...something. It was that place. Inside it, I could see things that are usually hidden. And I feel like you did too. Did you? Did you see anything? Anything...differently? Did you see me differently?”

Kenzie’s breath caught in her chest; her eyes drifted away from him, overwhelmed, into the stars, overwhelmed again inside them; she sighed, the breath trembling through her.

“I--I think--”

Fuck. I think I did. I think it was like a flash of lightning in a dark sky--there for a moment, then gone, but the outline of it still burned into my retinas. Like the dreams, I remember the outline, but not the details. I don’t know if it’s possible to remember the details. I think it might be too much to really see. Too great.

“I think so,” she whispered. “But I can’t describe--I can’t find the words...I remember the flowers around your head turned to gold. A gold so soft and beautiful it was like they were still alive--golden flowers, baby. And in my mind I thought...some kind of name. Like those names you called me. Sword of the Evening Star. That’s what it was. That was what I called you, in my mind. Like someone had whispered it into my ear. Sword of the Evening Star. How lovely is that.”

“I called you Angel of the Hidden Sphere,” Duncan’s hands soothed along her arm, down the crook of her waist. “And I don’t know what that means--I don’t know what the Hidden Sphere is--but Kenzie--listen to me. You were something else once. Something more than human. I guess I don’t know what else to call it. Mackenzie. You were an angel.”

Kenzie felt tears gathering along the edges of her eyes.

“An angel? Baby, what are you saying? I don’t…”

His lips drifted down against her forehead. His scent enveloped her; the soothing blue aura that always surrounded him was trenchant, completely whole, utterly certain.

“I know it’s unbelievable,” he was whispering against her, his voice steady, unshaking. “But just think about all the unbelievable things that have happened to us lately. We both made fire just by thinking about it. I moved across the entire house in the blink of an eye. You’ve been moving things across the room just by looking at them. You can heal people’s hearts just by touching them, just by willing it. I knew where you were last night because I felt you. When I realized Annette isn’t my real mother, you felt my sadness over miles, baby. All of that should be impossible in the world we used to know. But now that we’re together, there are extraordinary things in this world--real things, Kenz--that exist despite all doubt, and we’re starting to see them. And that’s what I saw. I saw that you were--that you are, that you always will be--a divine being.”

Oh, goddess. Oh, Duncan.

Kenzie felt the tears begin to course down her cheeks, dampening Duncan’s shirt--soaking into him. She began to sob quietly against him; I don’t understand--but I do. What you’re saying, oh, Duncan--I feel that it’s true. I can’t believe it, I can’t comprehend it, but I know it’s true. I don’t know what it means, I don’t know what the past was, or what the future is--but I know you’re right  I know I was what you say. I know she’s inside me, still hidden, still waiting. Little parts of her peek out sometimes, when someone needs help, when I feel a love so deep for you it wants to tear me apart. But the wholeness of her is beyond this world.  

“Oh, baby, oh, Dunny, oh my god, oh--” Kenzie found that she couldn’t stop now; her sobs rose, crashed against him, tears drifting in a steady stream against him now, soaking him. She brought her hand against her eyes, could feel her mouth crumpled into an involuntary frown, her heart overwhelmed with an immensity of knowledge that threatened to rip her in two. Duncan turned into her, his arms tightly around her, cradling her face inside his grasp, his cheek in her hair, his mouth speaking soothing sounds to her ear.

“Shhhh, baby, shhhh, angel, my angel, shhhhh, everything’s okay, everything’s fine, I’m here, I love you, shhhhhh...”

Kenzie could hear the slow, steady march of his heartbeat--could feel the tiny rhythmic burst of it against her cheek pressed to his body. Even inside this, even knowing this, trembling in its greatness, unable to comprehend my own Fate, I know the part of it that belongs with you. I know that, absolutely. At least that I know completely. Help me, baby. Help me bear it. Help me feel it and not be overcome by it.

“Exalted. Beloved of heaven. My Kenzie. I beheld your greatness. I am moved by it, body and soul.”

His words shivered against her with the softness of tiny wings. He was lifting her face up to him, his mouth the dearest, most passionate adoration. Kenzie could feel the stars above them now; feel their endless, wheeling weight, the massive geometry of their dance, feel the measurement and ponderousness of time for a long, infinite moment, extended through the divinity of his lips. No matter what eons pass, he thought, I will love you. For all time. I always have. In every place. In every time. In every moment. And forever.

Kenzie cried against him for a long time; the stars wheeled, glittering beyond all secret knowledge, and Duncan held her, his arms trembling with emotion, and after awhile, she felt his tears in her hair, and she felt soothed by them. As you are moved by me, I am moved by you, my love. As I am exalted, I’ve exalted you. Body and soul.

--------

Kenzie sat at a long table in a white room.

Zadie. It’s Zadie. Zadie was wearing a long black cardigan and a white blouse, holding a white rose. She was speaking, glancing at Kenzie from where she stood on the other side of the table; Kenzie could sense there were other women on either side of where she sat in the center, could sense their warm, curious energy in soft colors. Zadie was speaking, but Kenzie couldn’t hear her at first--she strained to hear, tried to still her mind away from whatever was blocking her hearing, tried to quiet herself. The sound slowly bled into her mind as though from a far distance--

“Nothing is immutable when the will of a strong woman is applied. Now, show me how strong you are.”

Zadie looked up at her expectantly; and at the other girls. Kenzie looked down--in her hand was a white rose almost identical to the one Zadie was holding. Kenzie knew, immediately; we’re supposed to change the color of the rose. It’s some kind of test--it’s like we’re in a class.

And Kenzie knew immediately, too, that she could do it. Like pouring wine into water, watching the color change. I can pour myself into the rose, and change it, utterly.

Kenzie felt herself breathe out, soothingly, felt the gold of her drift into the rose; slowly it altered, like the tide falling out onto the stretch of the shore. Blue, and her mind flared with the depth of her affection as she watched it change to a rich cobalt, like a lapis stone. Blue, the color of Duncan’s eyes, the color of his soul. Blue, in honor of the one I love most. Kenzie watched the rose deepen, felt the smile on her cheeks--then she watched, as if removed from herself, as the rose’s petals, now deeply, radiantly blue, drifted down from the stem, falling to the table’s surface. She thought of Duncan; like wings inside me, my deepest joy, the flowering center of my being, his hands so beautiful and graceful and delicate on my body, his devotion so pure, so entire. Roses in the bathtub, a diamond moon at my throat, our gold bracelets, tethered to our skin, the aching sound of his voice in the darkness, the beautiful edges of his jaw, his throat, his lips. The way he holds me, the passion of his touch. The blue is for him; as I am his.

Kenzie continued to watch the rose petals; as she did, she felt her mind reach out for them again, as if removed from her own demand, trapped inward, looking outward at another self. The petals began to alter, to change into something else--soon, each one was a cobalt-colored butterfly, their tiny minds melding against hers; each one was a part of her, she could feel it, each one was an aspect of her own soul. And each one is a devotion to him, she knew. Each one is a part of my love for him.

She felt herself drift a hand down, then dip it upwards, her fingers curling softly--the butterflies floated towards the ceiling, their wings drifting in graceful ease. She sent them to where she knew Zadie was standing; with mild surprise she noticed Candice now stood beside the tall girl, wearing a high-collared floral dress, her expression astonished at Kenzie--astonished at what she had done to the rose. The butterflies drifted above Candice’s head; Kenzie pushed the gold in her down, and the butterflies broke apart, becoming petals once more that fell around Candice and Zadie. Candice held out a hand, her face still marked with wonder; one of the petals floated down into her palm, and as Kenzie watched, it turned white again, the blue disappearing entirely.

And then she was drifting back up--up, up, towards a different, darker light, as through a pool of water lit by light, back into the night, back into the field of stars…

Kenzie opened her eyes. They saw nothing at first; only deep darkness, only void. Then, they began to adjust--she could feel the softness of the moonlight, once again peeked from behind a scant slip of cloud, and knew the warmth and weight under her cheek was Duncan’s body, knew the slow, steady drift of his breath meant he was asleep--as she had been a moment ago.

I was dreaming.

Kenzie looked up, moving only her eyes, keeping her head steady against him; through the corners of her vision she could see the universe still spread out above them, sense that they were still in the depth of the night, dawn far off. It was wonderfully warm against him under the quilt; the night was balmy and mild, the wind having drifted off, leaving the air very still. Kenzie could hear peepers calling off in the surrounding trees; she strained for a moment and heard an owl, the pattering of some creature in the undergrowth.

Blue butterflies, she thought. Blue roses for Duncan. How lovely. And Zadie and Candice were there. That was such a beautiful dream. I almost wish it had been longer.

She fought to come out of the dream; noted with vague surprise that they’d fallen asleep out here in the sweetness of the field, under these miraculous stars. I think I could sleep anywhere as long as you’re with me, she thought, and sat up, turning her head to gaze at Duncan in his sleep. Strands of his russet-colored hair drifted against his forehead, and his face was turned down to where the crown of her head had been a moment before, his hand near where her cheek had rested. He looks like an angel, she thought, vaguely; and then the dawning realization swooped back down on her, the memory of his words before, the ones that had made her cry so hard, the ones that had eventually pushed her (and him too) into such sudden, complete slumber.

That I’m divine, she thought. I’m an angel. Or, I was. Or, I will be. That’s not clear. None of this is. I just know he’s right. If so much hadn’t happened already--if so much magick wasn’t drifting around us--I’d think I’d gone insane. But I can’t deny it. I know he’s right, just as I know the sun will rise in a few hours, covering this field in golden dew. Just as I know he loves me so much he would die for me if he had to; die a thousand times, ten thousand times. As I know these things, I also know the truth of what he said; the certainty. I was something like that. It’s the reason I can heal his heart when he’s sad--send gold into him and soothe him. That was something I could do long ago, can do now again because our souls are close once more, and they remember each other, even if we didn’t at first.

That’s all I know. But I can feel that this is just a tip of it. Just the first part of knowing. Be patient, Kenzie Lou. All things come in time. All you can do now is wait. And she knew it was true.

Kenzie slowly slid her fingers down onto Duncan’s serene, stubbled cheek; she hovered just over his mouth now, and whispered softly.

“Dunny, baby, wake up…”

Duncan stirred, his head cocking up, to the side--he made a tiny, sweet sound, like a sigh, and then his eyes (white-blue sapphires) opened to her; she saw the immediate recognition in them, the confusion there washed away almost instantly, the calmness in him to behold her.

“Kenzie, I was making snow,” he murmured, his hands drifting up to grasp her at her hips, and she smiled at him, puzzled.

“Making snow, huh?”

“Mhmm.” He pulled her down to him, back into the warm cocoon of his arms; Kenzie’s cheek pressed into the soft skin that peeked from his collar and she let herself be drawn into the comfort of his embrace again. “I was in front of a fire, facing four men at a table. Anchaly was there, and so was Ben Wilder,” and Duncan laughed a little, his voice still tinged with sleep. “That’s dream logic I guess. I didn’t recognize the other two men...one had glasses, one had a short beard, dark eyes. I’ve never seen them before.”

“And you were making snow in front of a fire?”

“Yeah. The man with the dark eyes said change the weather inside this room, and turn the water into snow. So I did. I stood in front of the fire and lifted my hands into the air--I told the air to change. And it did. It started to snow. I was so happy--it was so lovely, Kenz. They laughed and said beautiful, beautiful--and then I heard your voice. I heard you calling to me, and I woke up.”

“I had a dream too,” she whispered against him, and Duncan’s arms drifted down the smoothness of the little dress she wore. She felt her skin prickle and hum under his fingers; remembered the graceful movements of her own hands, lifting the butterflies she’d made from rose petals into the air. “Zadie and Candice were in my dream, that’s so funny that you had people you recognize in yours too--and it’s odd--I was sitting with these other girls, and Zadie wanted us to change these roses we were holding. Change their color, I mean. And I did, I changed mine from white to blue; blue because it reminded me of you.”

She felt Duncan’s hands drifting down further still. Suddenly she felt hot, flushed--his fingers pressed under the hem of the dress, against the bottom dip of her ass, sore from his attentions earlier. She wondered what the bruises there were like now. His face was turning to her as she spoke, his eyes focusing in hers--she could see that strangely white, ethereal glow again, as though the moon were trapped inside the depth of blue. The white is the hidden aspect of you, she thought, like the moon turning behind a shadow. It’s the magic inside of you.

“Reminded you of me, huh?” His lips hovered over hers, his hands pressing up further against her ass, making her arch at the sensitivity there, and higher, along the fragile lift of her hip bone.

“Uh huh,” she whispered. “And then I turned them into butterflies. Isn’t that lovely? I thought about your love--how much you love me. And I made the petals into butterflies.”

“That’s beautiful, baby. That’s such a lovely dream. Can I kiss you, Princess?” She turned her jaw up, teasingly, away from his mouth--his lips dipped to hover in the space below her ear, not quite touching down, waiting for her reply. She leaned up into him, letting her breasts press up into his collarbones, eliciting a low moan from him; “...please, Princess Kenzie.” The night air was drifting against them again, the wind having stirred once more. His hair fell onto his forehead--his eyes burned for her, for me alone, she knew.

“Yes. Kiss me.”

He fell against her; his mouth was a supple devotion, salty-sweet and wet for her, wet with need. The depth of his desire was immediate, intense; his hands came to the slender straps at her shoulders, forcing them down with demanding strength as his tongue slipped between the smoothness of her teeth, coiling around hers, lifting back with anticipation, driving forward into her once again. Kenzie let out a low moan--she couldn’t hold back, couldn’t stave off the golden spiral that was stirring in her belly, licking in tendrils to her sore, hot sex. He was pushing the fabric of the dress away, pushing the cups of the bikini top down--Duncan slid down from her mouth and his burning, full lips closed over her nipple, hard and straining in the meandering air. Duncan sucked, flicking his tongue out to coil around her, so hot and wet Kenzie jerked up into him, crying out, then she heard her want falling out of her, like an obscene, Bacchanalian song.

“I wanna suck on you,” she whispered, loving the exigent heat of him on her breast, lost in it, opening her eyes to the stars, their glory urging her on inside her want. “I want you to fuck my mouth, baby. Please. I’m hungry for you.”

“Fuck, Kenzie, baby--”

“I mean it. Come here so I can get you hard for me. Do as I say.”

“Kenzie, angel, fuck, you know I’m already hard for you--”

“Then I’m gonna make you harder. Fuck my mouth.”

He was shivering now, shaken by her demanding tone, she knew; hopelessly aroused with it, straining to resist. She reached up, gripping his jaw, pulling him down to her, roughly devouring his mouth for an aching, unbearable moment, letting the wetness of the saliva gathering on her tongue graze into him, my mouth is wet for you, baby, wet for your needy cock, and then she pushed him up, away from her lips, staring into his eyes, tightening her fingers, a choke of supplication escaping his throat.

“Who do you belong to, baby?” she whispered.

“Ung, Kenzie, you, angel baby, divine angel, you, you know I do--”

“Fuck. My. Mouth.”

She let go of him at that, propping herself up on her elbows now, facing him, expectant. Duncan nodded, his eyes drifting closed in an overwhelmed stupor, the sleep having vanished from his face; he leaned up, the quilt falling away from him, his eyes fixated on the bareness of her breasts where he’d pushed the dress and her bikini down around her waist as he pushed the soft waistband of his shorts down, his thick, hardening cock falling free. Kenzie nodded, grinning at him.

“That’s it, baby. Come here.” She glanced down at her little breasts, suggestively, batting her eyelashes at him; put your cock between my breasts, baby, hold them together, fuck me there, wet me with your tongue--and she saw his eyes flash, long white-silver inside the brilliant blue, and he was leaning down to her, pressing his mouth with unbearably intense sweetness to her heart, laving his tongue out, slickly wet and hot, leaving streaks of moisture in the incline of her chest, glistening in the starlight, the hazy moonlight. Then he was leaning back, bucking his hips up toward her, pressing his cock to the wetness he’d left on her, and Kenzie dipped her head to him with hasty need, sucking his length into her lips, making him gasp--she slid down so he fell further into her throat, then lifted away, and Duncan was leaning his hips between her breasts, his achingly lovely fingers coming under, into their whiteness, covered in goosebumps at his touch. His cock slid down between them and he pushed both of her breasts against his length--Kenzie lowered her lips to the head of his cock again, smiling against it for a moment, then taking it into her mouth, gathering more wetness from the back of her throat; then Duncan was jerking his hips up into her, his mouth falling open in a beautiful abandon that made her feel faint.

I love your big fucking hands, baby, she thought, letting her eyes flutter closed, knowing he was watching her. I love your big fucking beautiful hands on me, spanking me, choking me, gripping me so tightly, leaving the bruises of your affections on me, fuck, I love it so, I love you, there’s nothing like the heat, the sweetness of your hands on me, leave bruises on my breasts, leave the marks of your fingertips on my soft skin--she let herself gag a little on his length, let her eyes roll back, knowing it would drive him to the edge, and felt a satisfied thrill as he groaned, loudly, into the night air, his hips shuddering against her nipples.

“Unnh, baby, Kenzie--” and she dipped lower, taking more of him, insistent, feeling the tips of his fingers digging into the supple, round softness of her. That’s it, baby. You belong to me, your body, your soul. If you know of my divinity--if I must accept it too, if I must find a way to live inside this knowledge while also being human, know that you belong to me--know that as you’re mine, entirely, supplicant to me, I am also yours entirely--and together we are infinitely lovely, intensely divine, my divinity made greater by you--as I give myself to you, give yourself to me: as only you can.

She pulled up from him, her tongue lingering on his smooth head, flicking into the hole there, and another long, pained groan leaked out from his lips.

“Can I please fuck you, Princess?” he moaned, and she giggled against him; oh I fucking love that too, Dunny, baby. I love it when you beg me, my lofty Prince of Shadows. My fair Hades on his high throne, begging me. Bowing to me.

“Only if you call me those beautiful names again,” she whispered, fluttering her eyelashes to him again, lifting her gaze up, staring into him, her tongue flicking out against him again. “Those beautiful divine names.”

“Goddess of the Golden Bower,” he breathed, and pulled away from her mouth; Kenzie let out a little whimper of longing. Come back to me.

“Princess Kenzie, please, let me fuck you now.” I long for the sweetness of our bodies together that way. I long for it always, but under this moon and these stars, I’m aching for you. If your blue butterflies are for me, the snow I made, shrouded in golden firelight, was all for you. “High Princess of the Garden of All Delights. Fuck, baby, I wonder what that place is. The Garden of All Delights. Doesn’t that sound beautiful? And you’re the High Princess of it. That’s only right--” and he was dipping his mouth down against hers again, his hands clutching her up into him, pressing under her shoulder blades, against the soft skin under her arms. “--you are the High Princess, aren’t you? The Princess of all Angels, I’m sure of it, I’m sure you are--”

“Ugh-hh, fu-uck, Duncan, baby--” Kenzie’s cheeks felt unbearably sensitive and soft where he kissed them, the memory of her sobbing tears still fresh there (tears of disbelief--I still can’t believe any of this, it still has to be a dream, how can I be divine, how can that be, blue flowers, blooming in your eyes, beloved, you must be the one who’s divine), but Duncan continued to press into her with insistence, his mouth a devout rose bud blooming onto her, her breath catching sharply inside his concentrations. She reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it (the second time today, baby, the third time in the throes of your need, and fuck, I don’t care, I want you again, I always do) as he worked her dress and the bikini further down, slipping his fingers into the waistband of the bottom at her hips--she slid out under his hands, amazed by the strength in them as she ever was, and his fingers were easily pushing her clothes away, which stood no chance against his urgency.

Now they were both naked (wonderfully, blessedly naked, naked but for my diamond moon and our ever-present golden tethers, the sweetness of this balmy night on our skin, and I’m stunned by your touch over and over, my wild wine god)--Duncan’s head dipped down, his curls trailing along the shivering mound of Kenzie’s stomach as his mouth kissed, adamant, at her abdomen--then pressed, immediate, tasting, at her clit, his tongue flat on her, drifting back and forth--then Duncan arched up and pushed her legs apart as far as he could, with a harsh movement that made her breath catch, suddenly frozen, in her throat; that’s it, fucking fuck me and she was murmuring as his mouth fell on hers again, his knees between her legs now.

“Yes, baby, yes, uhhh, Duncan, yes--” and Kenzie wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder as he pushed into her, as far as he could, his hardness making her gasp again, gasp with immediate tears, and goddess, this beautiful night feels so fucking good, like it’s kissing every inch of me--helping you kiss me because your mouth can’t be everywhere at once, though I wish it could, I wish, baby, I wish--and Kenzie felt as though they were some wild god and goddess in some wild, mounted, hidden place, where only gods could reach, only divinity could escape to; you and me, my exalted love, and she felt his bluish affections inside her, felt his agreement, his approval of her imaginings--yes, Kenzie, only me and you, only us in a secret bower, the Garden of All Delights where only we can go, this place is our own garden right now, our own hidden Eden--

“God, baby, fucking you like this, under the stars--” he was whispering into her ear, his panting breath making her feel terribly close to the edge, weak with the threat of her orgasm, dizzy with the wave of his desire for her, “the most beautiful night, and no one here but us, and those beautiful dreams, and you, the most beautiful of all, my Kenzie--” and she was arching up against him, trying to hold back, but Duncan pressed his mouth to her neck and bit down into it, harshly, insistent to leave a mark--I know you want to, I feel it, Dunny, you want to leave a mark, more marks on my soft skin because I’m yours--and his fingers were dipping into the tininess of the space between their quivering stomachs as he pressed his thick, burning cock up into her, sending her senses reeling into dark, verdant shadows, rubbing at the sodden space between her legs, insistently coaxing her towards what she wanted so much but was desperate to prolong for just a little longer--she could feel him, the cool swirl of his emotion, already sad for the inevitable moment their bodies would part again, and Kenzie clutched at his cheeks, her thumb dipping to his mouth, lost in the beauty of his expression, the heavy half-lidded ecstasy of his eyes, the way his mouth hung open to her, his breath coming against her in lovely labors, each one a prayer to her.

She could feel the sweat that had begun to tether her hair to the back of her neck, against her temples and the dip of her jaw--could see the moisture glinting in the darkness on his forehead, in the dip of his clavicle, along his wide shoulders. “That’s it, baby,” he moaned into her, his eyes incandescently sincere, so lovely in this shade she wanted to laugh or scream or cry against him, “I’ll work you out again and again, Princess, I always will, I can’t stand to be away from you, not ever--there’s nothing that feels as perfect as this to me, nothing as perfect as your sweet little body against mine, fu-fuck, I never want it to end, you and me under these fuu-cking stars, divine Kenzie, under this moon, in this heat--I love you, fucking marry me, will you please marry me, Mackenzie, goddess, sweetest of all beings, I love you--will you marry me?”

She was laughing immediately--the moon had fallen outside of its wisping clouds again, and it seemed to be kissing them. Blessing us, she thought. The moon is giving us its blessing. Your timing is perfect, my sweet love. And I will. I fucking will.

“Fuck, yes, fu-uu-ck, goddess, yes, I fucking will, Duncan, yes,” she gasped into him, and now they were both laughing, the gold in her clashing into his sweet, starry blue, her mouth kissing down onto his face, kissing his eyelids, eternal protectors of his impossibly blue eyes, and the bridge of his beautiful straight nose, his trembling lips, his damp cheeks, damp with his sweat and tears--we can just die now, she thought, die in each other’s arms and then this moment will extend into eternity, and it’s enough, it’s more than enough, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted, to be seen by you so utterly, to feel the safety of my heart enshrined in you, you, you, my beautiful Prince, my evening star, you picked the perfect moment--truly, the most perfect moment--and as they came together, lips hopelessly entwined, smiling through tears of holy, astonished bliss, she thought, eyes to heaven, stars, sing, fucking sing for us--if I’m an angel, I have my wings again, made of a thousand blue butterflies.  They’re you. You’re my wings, Duncan Shepherd. 

------

The moon was dipping lower southwest by the time they gathered the blanket and quilt up, dressed between ardent, sleepy kisses, piled the remnants of their dinner on the tray, and made their way back up the sloping hill towards the house. The sky had clouded over more than before; it was clear for us, just for that amount of time, our stargazing, our enchanted sleep, our desperate passion, and the perfect moment--so wonderfully, desperately perfect--for him to ask me to belong to him as I knew he wanted to, for him to ask to belong to me, Kenzie thought, drifting against him with tired steps, her head brushing into his arm, his face leaning down to rest against the top of her head as their fingers tangled together, golden bracelets touching; she could feel his own tiredness, feel his longing to hold her entwined in his arms and sleep with her, long, lost, and gone from the world in the golden-soft bed.

As they came over the crest of the hill to the line of trees, Kenzie could see the fire pit still burning; the hickory logs were half gone now, the fire bluish-gold and black-tangerine. “You made a good fire, baby,” she whispered to him, staring up at his shoulder; Duncan smiled at her, sleepy, sincere, lovely beyond all words she could imagine inside this moment.

“I’m so happy, Kenzie,” he replied, his voice sweetly low--Kenzie longed for the moment they would collapse into the bed soon as she heard it, her mind already fixated on their sleep, the quiet halo of his arms and the scent of him in the dark bedroom. “That’s why the fire came out of me so bright--my body is full of it. The fire you’ve built inside me. Mackenzie Shepherd.”

Kenzie grinned at that, stepping ahead of him onto the deck, setting the tray down. “That’s gonna take some getting used to,” she replied. “It still sounds like Annette to me.”

“Well, Momby said herself, it’s not the name--it’s what you do with it.”

“Dunny,” Kenzie’s breath caught and she paused, turning to him. He was still holding the blankets in his arms, standing at the bottom of the steps, and his hair was tossed by their passions, by sweat and sleep. He’s so beautiful inside this moment; his goodness is shining out of him, glowing. I can see your halo now too, my sweet Hades--the one you kept hidden for so long. “You called her Momby. Oh. I love that so much. She’ll cry. She loves you so much, Duncan. Momby loves you so much. She’s going to fucking scream when we tell her.”

“And I love her. I figured--since she’ll really be my mother-in-law now--that she’ll give me her blessing to use her real name.”

“She definitely will. You don’t need to ask. Just wait till you see her face when she hears you call her Momby. Oh, baby--”

She stepped to him, desperate to feel him--clutched his face, the prickle at his jaw.

“I love you, Duncan Malcolm Shepherd.”

“As I love you, Mackenzie Louise Shepherd.”

I dunno, she thought, as Duncan’s lips lifted up to hers, where she hovered above him on the steps, on his kiss the sweet scent of woodsmoke, salt, and jasmine. I think I like it. I really do. Mackenzie Shepherd.

“Let’s try it together this time, baby.” Kenzie pulled one of the quilts from his arms, tucking it between her elbows against her stomach, and grasped his hands. “Let’s move to the bedroom right now. I wanna see if we can do it while we’re touching. Like this.”

A gleeful curiosity came into Duncan’s eyes, and he nodded. “Ready?”

“Ready for anything, baby.”

Kenzie closed her eyes; she focused on the comforting, constant pressure of Duncan’s large hands holding hers, the ever-gentle reassurance of his body close by. Let’s go to bed, she thought, and she felt his mind meld against hers--the thread of him, tied around her. Yes, sweet Kenzie. To bed.

The air shifted--the sweet smell of the hickory wood, the lifting night, the sweet grass dissipated--and then there was only the sound of the wind drifting, slight, against the gauzy curtains, and spring peepers out on the lake, very far off. Kenzie opened her eyes. Duncan was smiling at her; the smile of an angel. Where is your crown of flowers, my sweet Prince of Heaven, she thought. Here you are, unshrouded, radiant.

“We did it,” he whispered. He dropped the blanket from under his arm to a heap on the floor--gathered her up against him, pulling the quilt away from her--and carried her to the bed, his arms lifting her as though she were made of the soft blankets herself, easily, so sweetly, with a tenderness that brought a drifting, tingling contentment along her entire body, from the tip of her head to the bottom of her toes; hold me, beloved, forevermore. Duncan buried his face against her, and she knew they wouldn’t need to speak any more words out loud tonight. We did it--you and me. We moved through space and time. Together. Because it’s this love that brought all this magic into our lives. Everything else flows out from this love.

A little while later, their faces was washed, their teeth brushed, and they were naked, wiped clean of sweat and the residue of their come with damp cloths. Her back was pressed against his warm, bare torso in the golden-soft bed, his hand clasped in hers between her breasts, and Kenzie lay listening to the soft sound of Duncan’s measured, dreaming breath, feeling the tickle of it on her neck, and the gentle pulse of his heartbeat between her shoulders. She could sense that sunrise was not far off as she drifted away to sleep, inside the haven of his arms. Something’s coming tomorrow, she knew. But she wasn’t afraid; she welcomed it. Come destiny. Come. We’re ready.

[glamrockmonarch]

Domestic ace!Deaky headcanons #1

Request: Can I get some more domestic fluff/drama stuff for our ace!Deaky couple? First fight/fights in general, sickness stuff, dealing with being apart when he’s on tour, first date, proposal/wedding, dealing with public hate/nonacceptance (and/or stuff with reader’s parents on that front), meeting the respective families the first time, injuries (like the time Deaky got super drunk and smashed a window/needed stitches). Any/all of these are great stuff (I know I listed a lot :P)! Thanks once again!!! - @smittyjaws

Part 2

A/N: Since this is very wide I made the executive decision of breaking it down into two parts, so this is the first. I hope you enjoy it, dearly dear! - Lou !

You and Deaky had known each other for quite some time before you went out for the first time.

Deaky meant to ask you out for a drink and maybe some dancing for a while before actually doing it when he built up the courage to.

“So...uh, there’s this bar, you know?” He tried to sound smooth while you helped Brian get his makeup on right, Freddie and Roger were busy fooling around in front of the mirror. “I hear it’s quite nice, maybe we could go there some time?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed in response, your attention on Brian - who, by the way, smirked while he heard you two converse- “next Friday works for me. Should I wear dancing shoes?”

John laughed at how easy that was, he made a pout and nodded.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“It’s a date!” Brian clapped.

Your first date with Deaky was so great it gave you anxiety because you had not yet told him that you were ace, although he was not worried at all because Freddie let him know as soon as he figured out John had feelings for you.

John picked you up at seven sharp and the two of you had a great time, getting to know each other a bit better now that you were alone.

Dancing with him for the first time during your first date blew your mind! The man had some great moves in him.

After becoming a couple and telling each other you were ace everything went smoothly for a while. You seemed like the perfect couple.

“I knew you would get together!” Brian would say.

“Excuse me? I was the one who introduced them, I called it!” Freddie would argue.

Nor you or Deaky minded who it was, you were happy together, moving forward with your relationship rather quickly.

And although you did not have sex you enjoyed spending time together, so you started sleeping at each other’s place. You would share a bed, cuddle, wrap your arm around each other and make coffee in the morning.

Deaky was a wonderful person to be around in the morning, he was quiet as he went around making breakfast, always waiting for you to at least have a sip of your coffee before starting a conversation.

Sometimes you felt cute waking up with your head on his chest and would wake him up by kissing his nose, he blushed to it every time.

Your first major fight was b-a-d.

Before this you and Deaky would have had arguments about small things.

A regular argument before you moved in together was that Deaky never washed his dishes so you would always clean up his kitchen whenever you were over, which you hated.

John closes all windows in your apartment when he comes over and you constantly fight over it.

“Why would you want them open? It’s freezing outside!”

“Mooney won’t be able to come in!”

“Who’s Mooney?”

“My neighbor’s cat!” You rush to open the window.

He gets very confused, he swears every week: there’s a different cat.

Fighting about cheating on board games. Roger loves to watch you two fight, he is always on your side only to annoy his band mate.

Deaky is not the jealous type but sometimes you do fight after going to parties with the boys because you tend to joke and laugh with Roger and Freddie a bit much.

“Why don’t you date them then?” He sulks, arms crossed over his chest.

You know he is being childish, craving for your attention. So you sit next to him on the couch and run your hands through his long hair, once he relaxes you kiss his cheek and put your hand on his.

“I could never want to be anyone else but you.” After this Deaky will usually wrap his arms around you and break into a smile.

You would only ever have big fights about not wanting to bring him to family events, so during one of those minor ones the first major fight comes along.

Deaky doesn’t know how mad you’re gonna be; angry, he expects it. But the breakdown you had? No.

“Oh, perfect! Go over there ON YOUR OWN, don’t even mention me-YOUR BOYFRIEND- to your parents, but tell me what do you plan on doing when we get married, when we have kids?”

You stopped dead in your tracks for a minute. Your heart skipped a beat. On one hand you loved the idea of committing to John entirely by getting married, but on the other...children?!

“When we what?” You feel like fainting. You have spoken about getting married at this point, but nothing about kids. Ever. If you had he would have known that you repelled the thought, mostly because of what having children of your own implied. It made you uncomfortable thinking about it, so you got defensive. “John, I am not...do you realize what that means?”

Deaky sees his mistake now, but he remains calm as he goes on about it, of course he knows what he is saying! Not that he is particularly excited about the implications, but when you were the most wonderful thing to ever cross his way he couldn’t help but want to put a ring on your finger and bring a bunch of kids up with you in a loving home. The loving home he saw himself being able to build with you and only you.

“I know,” he repeats, “I know... but seriously, what then? What when I ask you to marry me? Are you still gonna be too ashamed to introduce me to your family?”

“Oh, don’t change the subject!” You stand from the kitchen table with tears in your eyes. In a second you have started to question everything about your relationship with John. “God knows I love you, but I will not sleep with you! I thought you understood!”

And that’s when you hit him back where it hurt:

“So it seems you and I are not the same!” You say, but it feels like a slap across the face for him.

You leave the flat and slam the door behind you.

John knows better than to go after you. He is mad for what you said but also sees that he brought up the topic at the wrong time.

After spending the night on your own you realize that your boyfriend has always been nothing but respectful to you, and that he is the family type of man. It makes sense he would want to have children at some point. You think your boyfriend would make a wonderful husband and a great father, which has you up most of the night thinking, although you were scared of this you cursed into the pillow knowing that you would love to have a kid with him.

You talk it out the next day after Deaky was done with band practice and agree that the two of you would work on it when the time came and you were married.

Deaky rarely ever got sick, on the other hand you...well you had been raised in the east, in a small town near Suffolk where life was very different from the busy London lifestyle, so you caught a flu regularly.

You are always playing tough when the sickness gets worse but John knows you and makes sure you are covered well by blankets and have a book to read and a record to listen to while you ride out the cold.

On the strange occasions when John gets sick you let him rest his head on your chest or lap, depends on how bad it is. You also make tea for him and play with his hair until he falls asleep.

After moving in together you decide its time to introduce John to your family.

Your parents do not understand you, and they are glad to know you have a boyfriend, so of course they think you are finally through that “asexual phase”.

Deaky sees what you were so scared of as soon as he starts talking to your family. Although you are terribly embarrassed John is not fazed by any of it.

“Oh, my little girl! She was talking all of this nonesense about being asexual... of course she’s here with you so...!”

You wanted to die in the spot. John tilted his head and his brow furrowed as he looked back at you, his fingers intertwined with yours and he sighed before looking back at your mother.

“Of course, it’s not easy to find someone who identifies the way we do,” your eyes shot up and your heart stopped for a moment while John kept talking, “there is a sad and widespread misunderstanding of what we are. Just people in love, to be honest; not much different from other couples, right Y/N?”

You nodded in agreement and watch your mother’s face turn serious as she spoke to your boyfriend.

“Are you...” she shook her head and looked away as if the word burned her tongue, “too?”

Deaky smiled without showing his teeth but looked back at you, you couldn’t help but smile back at him, cupping his face you kissed his cheek.

Your family has had mixed feelings about you and Deaky ever since.

To be continued

Requests are open!

[economistontherun]

Let’s Fix This Hammy (Leg 1)

1. Decision that DNS better than DNF for  2019 Ironman Lake Placid - 😢

2. Move up hamstring surgery and PRP to June and July - ✅

3. Buy and prep lots of healthy foods for recovery - 🍉🥑🥦

4. Suspend Zwift and Coaching for a few months - 🚴🏻‍♀️

5. Make a list of books to read and papers to write 

Well I guess I’m ready to start move toward Jill 2.0. I’ve been struggling with low level hamstring pain since last fall but it presented as glute tightness that would relieve itself a few miles into a long run. It didn’t bother me on my bike and I don’t kick all that much when I swim so I was ok there too. Or so I thought I was ok. I finally went to the doctor and was diagnosed with proximal (high hamstring) tendonosis. It is when the acute condition of tendinitis becomes chronic and your body will not heal itself. 

This is pain in the ass. 

There were two things that drove me to seek medical help. One, I could not run without pain and feel like my right hamstring was shortening as I ran. Two, driving was excruciating. It felt like a tooth ache in my leg and I found myself popping Aleve, sitting on ice and a heating pad to alleviate some of it. Once I was diagnosed I was sent to physical therapy. I’ve been doing eccentric exercises to aggravate it which is very strange for your brain. After doing this for months with no relief, I had an ultrasound done. This showed severe scarring and the doctor told me that any shot of cortisone would rupture both hamstrings. Back to PT and then back to doctor. After an MRI it was discovered that I tore my right hamstring yet I have not recollection of doing this. We concluded that my pain threshold is so high that I just didn’t notice. That is the downside to badass and now I had to be super careful not to tear the fragile left hammy. 

But Ironman Lake Placid......

My coach and I had a heart to heart. As long as I had permission from the doctor to do the race, I could walk the marathon. Please keep in mind that although walking didn’t create the pain that running did the action of lifting your leg up on a curb was painful. I can best describe it as being forced to think “ok leg, lift up” instead of it happening automatically. This pain at the ischial tube or sit bone was acceptable pain but anything radiating below or causing stress on other smaller muscles was a no go. STOP and turn back! 

The bike was fine and I was up to riding 6 hours so things looked good. Walking a marathon was not the most pleasant thing to think of, but I blew up at IM Lou and had to walk most of the marathon because of belly issues so a planned walk would enable me to take in the fun! 

During this time I went for a second opinion on my treatment for the injury. I wasn’t convinced that scraping the muscle and tendon with a needle and injecting PRP at the same time was the only option. My new doctor confirmed the diagnosis and proposed a procedure called Tenex and follow that up with PRP. This sounded less barbaric and we scheduled it for middle of August after Ironman. 

Is that Pain on the Bike?

My coach has a camp in Lake Placid in June and it is so much fun! Think summer camp for adults. I would not miss it for the world, in fact my husband comes up to run the Lake Placid Half Marathon and we’ve decided it is our peaceful place. So love to be there. 

I had a long ride on the trainer, about 5 hours, on Memorial Day weekend and my hamstring was mad at me. I just chalked it up to riding on the training is pedaling for 5 hours straight and I’ve been riding outside and you can coast out there. I just kept an eye on it and would walk on Sunday at Lake Scranton. 

More heart to heart talks with my coach and we decided that my upcoming planned DNF (I wasn’t doing the run) at 70.3 Connecticut (formally Quassy) and camp would provide us with enough information for me to decide on whether or not I was going to race Lake Placid in July. 

I’m an economist to a quick Cost Benefit Analysis sums it up - 

Benefits

1. I’ve trained since January and had great bike fitness

2. I got my swim down below 2:00/100 

3. Lake Placid is so beautiful and I want to cross the finish line at the Oval

4. I’ve never bailed on something this big

5. 2019 has been emotionally rough for me and my training is about all I had control over

6. My anxiety and mental health suffered much this year and training is the only relief I find

7. I love training and racing with friends. I’ve already miss the time with running friends, this would cut out my time with riding friends too. 

8. Lose payment on hotel and no gear from LP

Cost

1. I could injure myself further

2. I may not be able to train or race again

3. Gaining weight 

4. Later surgery when I’m working could slow down recovery

5. Missing the race

6. Missing my training friends

7. Going Fu**ing crazy because I haven’t been forced to sit still in decades

Conclusion:

In the 75th mile of my 112 mile bike ride at camp in Lake Placid my hamstring hurt above the back of my knee. My doctor was training at the camp and we discussed good pain and bad pain. This one was the bad pain. I turned the bike around and had a good cry when one of the coaches found me and asked how I was doing. I knew my race was not going to start and now I had to deal with this when all about me were athletes excited and training for their races. 

Many tears were shed and I needed some alone time. I told Gerard I needed to go swim in Mirror Lake. I swam only about 500 yards but it helped a bit. Side note: you can cry in your goggles. The next day I cheered for Gerard in the half marathon and then swam the entire loop of the Lake Placid Ironman. I was able to feel free and enjoy every stroke. This was good for my body and soul. 

Letting Go 

I understand that people have struggles in life far more pressing than my injury deciding not to race an Ironman. I get that, but for me training for races whether running or triathlon is more about the opportunity to dream big and challenge myself. It makes me feel alive. The community is wonderful and I find that it helps me do better at the other facets of my life as well. It doesn’t hurt that it gives me a bit of street cred with my students too. 

I consulted with my doctor after the ride and then with my husband and my coach. The race would always be there. I needed to take care of myself and recover sooner rather than later. I cried, wallowed and it is the morning of my surgery and I am anxious, nervous and scared of the future but I am also energized and ready to win at recovery. 

There is something else. This year at camp I was more anxious and put more pressure on every activity where last year I was like the dog hanging out the window of a car. Everything was an adventure and a learning experience. The extra pressure I put on myself made me tight for my swims. I even got sick after some drills and missed the time to do a complete swim loop. I totally enjoyed the first bike loop day and had zero pain but the group left a little early on the big bike day and I was left feeling rushed. So much so that I started to cry and my coach had to snap me out of it with some tough love. I now realize that every pedal stroke was an analysis of a full body check. I was conflicted because I was so much stronger on the bike but I was losing power because I was compensating for the bad hamstrings. Mental pressure creates tightness. I felt the best on my long swim after I had decided that I couldn’t do the race. 

Lessons 

Stress equals stress to the body regardless of the source. My body was getting beat up by physical training and mental stress. That is hard when you are 100% but so much more difficult when you are nursing an injury. Through therapy I learned that I constantly put everyone else’s needs ahead of mine and take care of me last. That isn’t my intention, I just want to help but in doing that I also take on their stress and make it mine. For the first time in my life I suffered from panic attacks and vivid bad dreams. Thank goodness they’ve subsided. I’m a fixer and a doer. I want to move on with things quickly and get it done. This may not seem to resonate with a back of the pack endurance athlete but it does. I know that the training takes time and it slows me down. That is a balance for my brain that goes a million miles an hour from the time I open my eyes until the time I go to bed. 

I’m not sure how the next few days will go, but I know that I will need to put myself first, ask for help and win at recovery and rehab. 

Let’s do this. 

PS It’s only 8:20 am and I’m starving. 

[kinsbin]

Unlikely Friends

Title: Unlikely Friends Ship: Tuffnut/Lou [Self Insert/Canon] Word Count: 1835 Summary: Tuffnut searches for the rider he remembers seeing with the others near The Edge. Though they didn’t believe him, he was sure that the mysterious figure was there. When he finally does find him, however, the stranger’s dragons have other ideas on how this fated meeting should go. 

A/N: A commission for @snagg-ships and his adorable ship with Tuffnut from HHTYD! I had a blast writing this, and dragons are always rad )b

The town was quiet in its demeanor yet terrifying in its presence. Fishing ports, with their immeasurable fogs and quiet, drifting boats through which large ships full of hulking men dragged nets to gather sustenance, were often like that. Tuffnut felt his breath hold itself in the center of his lungs as he pushed through the empty streets, parting the fog as if it were a curtain rather than a mist. There was only moderate fear in his stomach, mostly overwhelmed by the specific and inane impulse to confirm what he had only recently seen with his own eyes.

At least, what he had thought he had seen.

No one else seemed to believe him when he spoke of it. His eyes had only caught the vaguest glimpse of it as well, so faint he had almost thought he was seeing things until he realized that, no, he should never doubt what his own eyes could show him. He didn’t doubt them when he first saw Hiccup flying on a dragon, and Tuffnut would not doubt them now. It was the only thing that seemed to push him forward with the speed he was keeping up at, passing through the village to its outer limits, where he would only choose to push himself further and further towards the outskirts, where the shore of the forest met a series of craggy, desolate rocks to which only the bravest of sailors would dare to meander around. With dragons, of course, it was easier. With dragons one could sail above the crags, considering that the weather was decent enough.

But who had time for that? Weather checking and making sure things were okay.

Still, Belch and Barf floated above him, meandering after him curiously. It was rare that the dragons saw one of their two riders make a decision without the other, yet, who were they to defy or stop him? They, too, were curious about the beings with the creatures they had heard their rider had seen. Perhaps it was something important...Perhaps it was something he would need protection from, no matter how much he insisted that he would be fine.

Though he only wanted to talk, the endeavor itself would prove more difficult than he had initially expected. Talking was hard enough as it is, always needing to choose the right words to say and finding it annoying when people tried to cover truths with clever wording or soft speech. It was forwardness that made vikings what they were and, by god, he liked to think himself as forward as they come. Of course, Ruffnut would always disagree with him, but what did she know? She was his sister. That counted the least.

His thought process was interrupted when he noted his surroundings, the village giving way to a forest which gave way to the path towards a seaside cave, the ocean waves eating at its sides like a hungry monster emerging from the depths of the abyss.

It was here the rumors he had followed started. It was around here he saw, from the corner of his eyes, the flitting image of a rider dissipating into the smoky sky around them as they returned home from The Edge.

A twig snapped under his feet and Tuffnut inhaled sharply, pausing in his movements. Strands of thick, heavy set hair brushed up along his cheeks, tickling him into silence while he stared on at the cave before him. Watching it, waiting for the noise to have drawn something out. Something...what would this rider be like, he wondered? And his dragons….would they talk with them too?

A hand emerged, stark against the grey and blue rocks of the cave, followed by an arm. The long, black leather armor sparkled with the light perspiration of the oceanside hideaway. Tuffnut followed it further as the rest of the person’s form revealed themselves to him, glasses glistening in the gentle light while strands of dark hair blew against a face all sharp eyes and furrowed brows. The cape they wore blew in the strong breeze of the ocean around them. Eyes meeting, Tuffnut felt his heart jump into his throat as he stared back, jaw slacking little by little as they watched one another not feet away.

Now, his brain screamed at him with a frustration he hadn’t ever heard it yell before, you have to do it now! Now!

“Uh,” The word tumbled from his lips slowly as he raised a single hand, “Hey there.”

There was silence, the world echoing with the crash of waves and the breath of the wind through tall pine trees of the nearby forest. With every moment neither said anything, the more awkward of a situation settled into the marrow of their bones.

“...Hello.” the stranger finally spoke in return, his tone curt and concise as he gave a nod with his head to affirm he had, indeed, acknowledged the other. It was all the acknowledgement Tuffnut needed, of course ,before a grin broke out on his mouth as he dared move forward, hands gesturing as he talked with a sudden, vivid excitement that sen the stranger startled back slightly with eyes wide and full of confusion.

“Hah, I KNEW IT. I knew you were real! I saw you flying a while back and my friends-hell my sister- didn’t even believe me! ‘Your eyes are playing tricks on you, Tuffnut’, or, ‘There are no other riders, Tuffnut’. Oh, uh, that’s my name also. Tuffnut. Anyways I mean-”

“SHUSH.”

The man had moved forward now, closing the distance in favor of slamming his hand over the other’s mouth with wide, slightly annoyed, eyes that made Tuffnut inhale sharply when getting close to them. They were...deeper than any eyes he had seen before. Cooler but so measured in their warning look that it made him tense up. Was...this what Ruffnut had felt when she saw that guy once? A sort of deep, settling thrum in his heart that was experienced just by...by STARING at him…

“I’m Lou,” He introduced himself in a sharp whisper, “And YOU need to lower your voice. Now.”

A muffled ‘why?’ questioned itself against the others hand, the moitness of Tuffnut’s breath making Lou screw his face into a look of moderate annoyance. It made his nose do a very cute...soft sort of wrinkle. Why was he noticing the wrinkles of this guys face? Tuffnut tried not to think about it too much.

“Because,” Lou’s tone pitched itself slightly lower as his eyes darted back and forth before refocusing on the subject at hand, taking in a deep breath as he did so, “No one is supposed to know I’m here. I LIKE that no one knows that I’m here and would like to keep that as true as possible...Plus my dragons are a bit...protective.”

“So you DO have dragons!” Tuffnut shoved the other’s hand away from his mouth, his lips turned into a tight grin of pride at his own predictions come true.

As of on cue, there was a noise. A deep, static snarling that echoed further with the cave’s deep set walls. Lou went rigid, his eyes widening as a single word formed on the base of his mouth. He licked his lips before he spoke it as the heavy set thundering of claws and feet clambered with a fierce anger towards the front.

“Fuck.”

Before Tuffnut could ask just what he had meant by that, he saw it. The blue scales of the same fierce creature he had sworn he saw Lou riding during his first sighting sparkled like hidden gems against a well blended, grey underbelly. Lightning sparked as the blue Skrill from his memory emerged, eyes angry and dilated with focus on its rider and the intruder before it. Upon the monstrous dragon’s head, a single Terror sat with the same dilated gaze of fierce focus, its teeth bared with an anger fit for its name as they both looked from Lou to Tuffnut and back again. Lou only rolled his eyes, as if he had expected the whole event to transpire. Perhaps, in the back of his mind, he did.

“Sorry,” Lou hummed, reaching out to flick a small strand of Tuffnut’s longer hair out of his shoulder with a laugh, “But you should probably run now.”

“Run?”

The question echoed as the Skrill’s deadly screech of fury broke against the forest, its wings flaring as it flapped them. To echo it, the Terror’s own cry bit like ice behind a storm, and both were airborne within a few moments, heading immediately at Tuffnut. The boy, rigid with shock, could only yelp and duck away with barely enough time to evade the oncoming assault. Immediately he rose, scrambling away with shock as he felt the screams leave his lips without much thought.

There was a moment of shock as he watched the Skrill and Terror come at him, the eyes of the dragon rider helplessly watching as his dragons protected him. Would he do anything about it if they did kill him!? There was momentary terror in that thought before Barf and Belch, hearing the screams of their rider, swooped in as fast as the both of them could. There was a pause as Tuffnut was scooped from the air by familiar claws and thrown onto the back of his trusted ride, clutching to its horns for dear life as he looked back on the creatures pursuing him.

Lou grew smaller in the distance, his arms crossed as he watched the events transpire with relative calm. Tuffnut could feel a laugh bubble up in his stomach, disbelieving and equally amused as he shouted, as loud as he could so that he was heard, “HEY WE’LL TALK SOME OTHER TIME THEN. THAT’S COOL. SEE YOU.”

To which Lou waved back, a smile on his lips before he called in return, “I DOUBT IT!”

Once far enough away, the other’s dragons ceased their pursuit, refusing to leave too far from their trusted companion. Tuffnut sighed as he leaned against Belch’s head, feeling his dragon churr with worry as he pet its neck.

“Nah, bud, I’m good,” He returned its worry with reassurance, “That rider though...Lou...Sure was something eh?”

Barf rolled his eyes and Tuffnut grinned wider.

“Next time I go back, I’m gonna bring snacks. Even dragons love snacks...You think Skrills like fried fish?”

So what if it would be hard? He had always like a challenge. The first meeting could have gone better, that was certain, but if there was one thing the Hooligan tribe was known for, it was beating their head against a wall in hopes of the wall giving away first. Tuffnut had beaten far harder things than a couple dragons who were a little too protective of a single person. Maybe they’d be friends!

Who knew anyways? As long as there was a will, well, there was certainly a way.

[consultingundergroundrainbow]

Life Changes (ch 1)

(Aged up) Peter Parker is living his dream on Broadway and catches the eye of famous doctor Tony Stark

Tony looked around the theatre. It was nice. Of course it was, it was Broadway, after all.

"Do we have to go see Hairspray of all things?" He complains. "It's so girly. I don't do girly musicals. Hell I don't do musicals. It's not my thing. Can't I just go back to work?"

Pepper swats his arm. "It's a good musical. And no. You need time off. You're overworking yourself again."

"It's not my fault being a surgeon is time consuming." Tony sasses back. She was right, as always but still. Tony loved his job, He loved helping people get better.

"You need to relax Tony." "And I couldn't do that at home? With a drink?"

"No. Now we need to get seated. I got us good seats so shut up and enjoy it. It's the last performance of this cast and I heard it's really good."

"Fine. But you owe me one." Tony pouts.

"Alright you big baby." Pepper rolls her eyes and grabs his arm, dragging him into the theatre.

Tony complains but lets himself be pulled. Pepper had gotten them seat in the middle of the third row. He sits, crossing one leg over the other and opening the play bill. He scanned the cast names, recognizing a few.

-----.-----

Backstage was full of sounds of warming up and tap tag of people running back and forth, and dancing. Peter leans forward towards the mirror as he works at getting his hair into place. He had some time before he went out. He finally gets his hair settles and smiles, spinning around and winking at the mirror. He looks over at his best friend, Ned. Ned worked backstage with tech.

"Okay guys I have big news." Ned announces, setting his clipboard down as the cast members gathered around him. "We have some pretty big guests in the audience. Kristin Chenoweth is here and so is the renowned surgeon Tony Stark."

Peter, who usually didn't nervous on show nights, felt panic rising. His Broadway idol and Tony freakin Stark were in the audience. The cast members around him started talking over each other until Ned blew a whistle he kept with him and they shut up.

"That means we have to put on the best show of our lives tonight. Her opinion could make or break everyone's career. We go on in five so get ready. Bring it in."

The cast all put their hands in a circle and sing half a scale before shouting "Showtime". Peter smooths his jacket and does his best to calm his heart. He had to put his best foot forward and he couldn't very well do that if he threw up from nerves.

As his stage time slowly crept closer, Peter started to feel better. He loved the rush of performing. He rolls his shoulders back and stepped out for his first number. As soon as his feet hit the stage, he was okay.

-----.-----

Tony was only half paying attention , his mind elsewhere. He didn't understand what the big deal about Baltimore was. Personally he hated the city. The people were rude and it smelt bad. He had almost dozed off when a cocky sounding man started to speak. He was talking-then singing- about some nice kids. Tony rolls his eyes. There was no such thing as 'nice kids'. Especially in high school. The song was slightly racist but that was the time period.

"R-r-r-roll call!"

Tony started to tick off on his fingers. Amber, bitch. Brad, try hard. Tammy, fake. Fender, stoner. Brenda, teen mom. Sketch, dequlient. Shelly, annoying. IQ, junkie. Lou Ann, church girl. Joey, car obsessed. Mickey, jock. Vicki, cheerleader. Becky, slut. Bix, debate team. Jess, band nerd. Darla, single mom. Pauly, cat lady. Noreen and Doreen, know it alls. Then a new voice joined the cast.

"-And I'm......Link." The dark haired boy smirks and fixes his tie.

The audience went crazy when "Link" winks. Tony sits forward, intrigued now. He had a cute innocent face but wore the sexy look well. Tony had to admit the actor was pretty attractive, He was a bit young but after hearing his voice it's no wonder he's on Broadway. Tony is mesmerized, no matter how weird a name Link was. What kind of mother names their kid Link? He opens his playbill and scans the list of cast members. His name was Peter Parker. Tony made a mental note to look him up later.

Now that this boy caught his attention, Tony was actually paying attention to the musical. He'd deny it on his life if anyone asked, but he was actually enjoying himself. He felt a little more than he had in a while and it was nice. If he had to choose a favorite song from the musical, it would have to be 'It Takes Two' because of this Peter's beautiful voice or 'I Know Where I've Been' because it reminded him of his own life.

When the musical ended, Tony stands and stretches, carefully cradling the roses he bought during intermission. Pepper had told him she was dragging him to the cast party. He rolls his eyes playfully and follows.

"You liked it!" Pepper grins.

"I don't know what you mean." Tony banters playfully.

"You liked it. You don't smile for just anything, I know you. You liked the musical." She smirks. "Or was it the actor? Peter Parker?"

"You know me. You tell me." Tony laughs, following her outside.

-----.-----

Peter grins as he bows, feeling a rush of pride at an amazing performance. He was breathing hard and his face was pink with excitement. He follows the line of cast members off stage to change. He exchanges the blue suit for his own tux, running his hand over the fabric. He would miss this cast and show. It had been his favorite so far. The crew were amazing and super nice. They all got along instantly.

"Hurry up Peter! We gotta go!" One of the company member, Elimie calls.

"Coming coming!" Peter fixes his tie and joins her. The cast broke off into groups and ducked into the waiting limos.

The cast party was held at the Prince George Ballroom. Peter had only seen it once. It was beautiful. Once they got there, Peter gets out and is immediately swarmed by reporters. He takes a breath and laughs under his breath.He didn't mind the press but sometimes it was rather annoying. He answers the questions with a smile.

"Mr. Parker!" One reporter calls. "What is your next show going to be?"

Peter thinks for a moment. "Well I've always wanted to be in Something Rotten. I think I'll audition for that next." With that, he ducks inside. He makes his way to the bar and orders a champagne. He thanks the bartender and looks around before walking around to mingle. He sees the director beckon him over and Peter obeys. It wasn't until he got over there that he realized just who his director was talking to.

"Hi sweetheart. Peter right?"

Peter was speechless Kristin freaking Chenoweth knew his name and was talking to him. He stood with his mouth slightly open before snapping it shut.

"Y-yeah. Sorry. Yes I'm Peter." He gives a shaky smile. "I'm sorry. But I just have to say, you have been a huge inspiration for me. The first musical I ever saw was Wicked and I loved you in Glee and Strange Magic was amazing.." Peter realized he was babbling and he trails off with a sheepish smile. "Sorry. It's just my dream to be like you."

Kristin smiles softly. "Well it's my pleasure. I'm proud to inspire young talent. Keep going, you're gonna be amazing doll."

Peter blushes lightly. If he was dreaming he never wanted to wake up.

"Oh. It looks like someone else wants your attention." Kristin says with a smile.

Peter turns and nearly fainted. Tony Stark stood there, with a patient smile on his face.

"I'll leave you to it." She pats his shoulder and walks away.

"H-hi." Peter stammers.

Tony couldn't help but smile. He was adorable when he was embarrassed.

"These are for you." He offers the flowers.

Peter looked up with surprise in his already large eyes.

"W-why?"

Tony almost laughs. "Because you did a good job? I find it hard to believe you don't compliments. Especially after a show like that?"

Peter flushed deeper. "O-oh of course. Thank you." He accepts the flowers.

"So how does it feel knowing you took my Broadway virginity?" Tony smirks.

Peter's mouth dropped open as he tried to answer and Pepper comes up and smacks his arm.

"Tony what did you do to him?"

"I only said that he took my Broadway virginity." Tony says with an innocent look. Pepper rolls her eyes.

"Tony!"

"What?"

"You can't just say things like that!"

"It's okay Miss." Peter speaks up. "I've heard weirder."

Tony smiles. "See, it wasn't that weird." He turns back to Peter.

"Can I have your autograph?"

"I feel like I should be asking you that." Tony laughs. "How about we trade?" He suggests, handing over his playbill.

Tony watches as Peter signs the playbill and finds a clean napkin and scribbles down his name and phone number before handing it over. Peter looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Use it and let me find out if you taste as good as you sound." Tony winks before his pager went off. He looks down and swears softly. "I have to go but I mean it. Call me." He winks and takes off.

[nlwjournal]

I’m Breaking The First Rule Of Fight Club

First of all, Sasha and Kayla suggested the title, and I thought it was funny. The title was gonna be “Edward Norton And Brad Pitt Can Get It Any Day,” but that’s not school appropriate, and yet here it is 🤫

Anyway, Fight Club by David Fincher kind of blew my mind. I didn’t see the ending coming at all. Throughout the movie, Tyler Durden pops in and out for like a millisecond in some shots, but I didn’t want to search up why because I knew that would spoil the movie—haha little did I know.

Norton and Pitt killed this movie. Their chemistry was electrifying, and I believed every single second of their acting. Even the scenes where The Narrator/Tyler was hitting himself, which looks impossible. I definitely have a new love for Edward Norton, and I’m going to start watching more of his movies.

I always knew that Pitt was a good actor, but this movie really said: Brad Pitt is a good freaking actor. I’ve seen him in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, Inglorious Basterds, and the Ocean’s films, but in this performance, he really stood out. In the scene where he’s in Lou’s Tavern and Tyler’s getting beat up by Lou, his acting is impeccable. When he’s laughing, it sounds like he’s enjoying it, it also sounds Joker-esque. I was terrified of him for the rest of the movie. Because he’s technically a figment of The Narrator/Tyler’s imagination, so anything is possible.

Also, I didn’t realize that The Narrator didn’t have a name. A couple years ago, I was reading the book All The Truth That’s In Me by Julie Berry, and no offense to Berry, but the fact that I didn’t know the protagonist’s name in the first three pages of the book prohibited me from reading. So, I’m not sure how I was able to get through Fight Club.

Maybe I was distracted by the plot of the movie? The whole film I did wonder, “how has someone not died yet?” It’s a freaking fight club for Jack’s sake—see what I did there… Jack’s… hahaha… if you don’t get that, watch the movie again. But seriously, how didn’t someone die?

In my eyes, the fight club showed the glamorization of violence in a man’s world—who am I to talk about this, right? So, from what I’ve seen, boys have been told not to show feelings. “Suck it up” and “take it like a man” are phrases I’ve heard fathers say to their sons. I’ve played sports all my life, and when a boy got hurt, the father was right there to tell them to stop crying. I guess fight club is a way to release all the tension and built up emotions with aggression and violence? Somewhere in the film, the Narrator says the line, “you weren’t alive anywhere like you were there,” meaning fight club. Maybe they liked being hit so they could feel alive? I guess, feel anything for that matter, because men aren’t taught to feel? I’m not really sure. I’ve been reading conflicting reviews online of what the movie actually means, but I still don’t get it.

I really enjoyed the slow-motion shots. The camera was moving for the actor, so the actor didn’t have to work so hard. The shots were just also really cinematic. A slow-motion shot that comes to mind is the sex scene between The Narrator/Tyler and Marla. Typically, I hate nudity in films—I still do—but I appreciated this one. There was something about the distorted racking of focus, camera movements, and general tone that fit the storyline well. It didn’t feel out of place, abrupt, or vulgar at all.

The last scene just took my mind to a different place. Since I didn’t see the big twist coming, I was so shocked. When The Narrator/Tyler shoots himself in mouth, it was a relief. This side of him he’d been repressing was finally gone, and he could truly become whole again. Also, it brought out his true feelings for Marla. The last shot of them together astonishing. Seeing the buildings fall and them holding hands, it was like aww that’s cute.

The movie does make me think of Dissociative Identity Disorder or (DID). DID used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder, which has been depicted in the media incorrectly. I watch this youtube channel called DissociaDID, and that particular system was started by Nin, the host for the DissociaDID youtube channel. The DissociaDID channel was made to inform people of what the disorder truly is because in movies like Split and Fight Club— I’m not actually sure if The Narrator/Tyler has DID—have depicted people with DID as violent, but in the real world most people with DID are not violent at all. Now, I’m not sure if The Narrator/Tyler has DID, but he does hint at waking up at a different time, in a different place, as a different person, which occurs when someone has DID. And I’m not an expert, so here’s a link to the DissociaDID youtube channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6kFD5xIFvWyLlytv5pTR1w/featured. Here’s another video that a YouTuber, Anthony Padilla, made where he interviewed people with DID: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ek7JK6pattE&t=422s.

In conclusion, I need to pay more attention to detail. Maybe this was just an off movie day for me, but when I look back at some clips, the answer was right in front of my eyes. In the car crash scene, when the car is upside down, The Narrator comes out of the driver’s side, and Tyler comes out of the passenger’s side. In that scene, The Narrator was projecting Tyler in the driver’s seat, but to the two guys in the back of the car, The Narrator was driving. Also, in the first scene of the film, The Narrator says, “I know this because Tyler knows this.” HELLO, NICOLE, HE LITERALLY TOLD YOU THE ANSWER HOW DID YOU, MISS, THIS? I guess I was just lost in Edward Norton’s eyes.

[kinsbin]

Loss and Love

Title: Loss and Love Word Count:  1522 Ship: Lou/Junkrat [Canon/Self Insert]

Summary: A dangerous heist ends with Junkrat getting hurt and Lou hurrying to save him. When he’s asked just why he decided to let a criminal live...feelings rise up that he is forced to admit to both the junker AND himself.

Author’s Note: A writing comm for @snagg-ships!! I hope you enjoy it friend you and junkrat are sO CUTE TO WRITE TOGETHER AHHH <3

It was supposed to be a mission. One simple mission that had the lot of them in and out of the local bank with enough cash to live comfortably at least for the next couple of years. Lou knew that, even if they were living comfortably, he wouldn’t be able to stop Junkrat from coming up with new schemes and heists in the course of a few months. He wouldn’t be able to stop Roadhog from going along with his best friend and causing more havoc that he, as the third and final member of the dubbed ‘Junker Squad’ (only by Junkrat) would have to find them and save them at some point or another.  Still, this heist was supposed to help.

They weren’t supposed to get separated.

“Roadhog! Any sign of him?”

The hulking form of his best friend took a moment to look to either side of him, going so far as to tilt his head up and then down as well in case the other Junker would somehow appear flying through the air or landing suddenly on the ground below. Well, Lou thought carefully, he wouldn’t be too surprised if that was how Junkrat chose to make an entrance, though. Instead, his stomach flung itself high in his throat when he realized that Roadhog had shaken his head ‘no’. That he hadn’t seen Junkrat come out of the building through which he was supposed to gather up the heist goodie and leave. Lou felt a curse fall from between his lips as he furrowed his brows and continued to hit button after button on the holographic screen humming from the watch on his wrist. It vibrated and shorted out once or twice, the poor tech a result of having to work with old or thrown away items while simultaneously on the run from several local authorities.

The screen that glowed showed the locations of each of his partners in a soft red dot, fading in and out of the screen’s existence while accompanied by a hollow ‘bing’ that managed to sync up with the movement. As he and Roadhog stood, he watched a singular dot halfway across the screen scurry with unbelievable speed diagonally towards them before blinking out with a suddenness that made him startle. Lou squinted again, his heart racing as he tapped at the watch’s face with vigor.

“God damn lousy piece of shit-” He snarled through gritted teeth, “Why the hell did only Rat’s signal go out like-”

An explosion echoed behind him, loud and sudden. The shockwave that followed it sent a wave of debris over the perimeter of its epicenter. As it hit Lou and Roadhog, it blew their hair forward with such terrifying speed that Lou felt himself stumble, hitting the ground on his arms and cursing out in pain while his body was forced down and against the ground until the impact faded away into nothingness. Sirens soon followed the aftershock, distant at first but growing steadily louder in Lou’s still ringing ears. He opened his eyes, gaze blurry with the soundwaves that had assaulted him. A hand, large and firm, gripped at his shoulders and hoisted him upwards.

“We need to go.” Roadhog’s tone was hasty as he shoved his friend forward, “now.”

“Wait, no,” Lou attempted to protest while turning around, his head whirling from one side to the other, “Junkrat...Roadhog, Junkrat’s signal was gone and then the explosion-!”

Lou stopped talking, his eyes settling on the source of the explosion with terror welling in his veins. The entire building Junkrat was supposed to be in was gone, replacing it was leveled rubble that crumbled weakly from structure point to structure point, the entirety of its contents and the people buried in the amalgamate of destruction. Dust floated through the skyline, dying the world above them orange and yellow as the miasma of pollution crowded the vast space around the demolished structure. There were groans and screams echoing around, from people who had been injured in the explosion to people who were terrified of getting too close as panic ensued around the entirety of it. Yet it all sounded faded in Lou’s mind...it was nothing but a soundtrack against the rapid pounding of his heart and the true thoughts screeching like banshees and fire alarms in the back of his mind.

Junkrat...Junkrat was in there...Where was he now?

Another tug broke him from his fishbowl of panic, Roadhog’s voice burning firmer this time.

“Now.”

“J...Junkrat,” Lou tried to get out, walking towards the debris rather than with Roadhog, “Mako...he’s still there! We have to save him. We have to go back we gotta-”

Lou moved without thinking about it, bolting forward too fast for Roadhog to stop him. He simply watched, instead, as Lou gripped at the rubble around the epicenter and began to move it, desperately pulling lump after lump of destroyed concrete from its  place. His eyes teared up, wet from the irritation of the dust surrounding him and from the terror of realizing that...he may just lose Junkrat. He may just lose one of the people he had come to care about.

His digging grew more desperate, ripping off piece after piece of dirtied rubble until, at last, a familiar arm stuck itself out of the darkness. Lou startled, moving faster until he had loosened the dirt enough to grip at the metallic arm and yank, revealing a dusty and half crushed Junkrat.  His body was worse for wear, cuts littering his form and his head sporting a rather thick cut that had coated his face in crimson red. Lou noted the painful way his ribs seemed to stick out, perhaps dislocated or broken, and how his chest struggled to breath. Junkrat, nonetheless, opened one eye and noted Lou’s form hovering over him.

And he grinned.

“Howdy darl,” The criminal greeted with a wheeze, “Gotta admit that-ugh-that was one hell of a dismount, right?”

Mako grabbed them both at this point, yanking them forward and running off with them under his arms as the sirens of the police and firefighters echoed like a cacophony against the fragile rubble.

He didn’t stop running until they had gotten to their getaway vehicle, and then to their hideout, where Lou hurried in patching Junkrat up, administering the proper care and bandages to him while, somehow, saying nothing the entire time. Junkrat, of course, joked. He talked and teased as he normally did with the other man but...Something was off..Different. Even Junkrat could sense it, as much as his mind (and emotions) had been numbed by years of nuclear war and a craving for destruction.

A hand reached out, poking at Lou’s forehead while he worked on bandaging one of Junkrat’s hands.

“You mad at me or somethin’, darl?” He questioned with a pout, “Cat’s got your tongue or something.”

Lou’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Hm, let me think,” He drawled sarcastically, “What made me angry? Was it the failure to actually secure the money we were trying to heist in the first place, or the fact that you almost DIED while doing it that got me less than thrilled?”

“Hey now, what are you all twisted about?” Junkrat argued back, “Worried about me...don’t you know I always bounce back from a bomb? A’ course I was fine! Honestly ya insult me by-”

Hands flung themselves on his shoulders and Junkrat startled as he watched tears well in Lou’s eyes.

“You almost DIED, Jamison!” Lou choked out angrily, “You almost died and do you know how I know? I dug you out of rubble with my bare hands and dragged you free. I watched you make a joke while covered in blood with crushed ribs. That wasn’t something you should have been able to bounce back from. I...I almost LOST YOU!”

Junkrat knocked a hand away, baring his teeth with a raise of his eyebrows.

“What makes you so upset about it then eh?”

“BECAUSE I ALMOST LOST THE ONE THING I LOVED!”

The scream was loud. Louder than Junkrat had ever heard Lou scream. The words themselves were powerful, Junkrat startling back as Lou leaned forward, their noses touching and making it so Junkrat could smell the salt of the tears on the other man. The silence that hung between them after was deafening, syllables of nothingness floating in the wind like paper. Lou paused, eyes widening as he realized what he had said, his face turning red with embarrassment. Junkrat grinned.

“Ya love me?”

“I-” Lou swallowed, trying to think of something to say. Instead, he was cut off when Junkrat leaned forward, connecting their lips in an eager kiss that left the other speechless before returning it.

When Junkrat pulled away, he was smiling so warmly it made Lou’s heart flutter.

“If I had known it had taken me almost dying to get you to say that to me, I woulda blown myself up sooner!”

Lou smacked the junker, who laughed in delight while hugging the other closer to him. Though the confession was out of the blue, itw as genuine. Lou hugged him back, taking in a deep breath and burying himself in the warmth of the man he had finally admitted, to both himself and the other, that he loved.

Perhaps now things would be better...Only perhaps, though.