#inside my favorite manuscript

[insidemyfavoritemanuscript]

Episode 17: Kathryn Maude on politics, the queen as evangelist, and the 11th century Encomium Emmae reginae

British Library Add MS 33241, fol. 1v

In Episode 17 of Inside My Favorite Manuscript, Dot and Lindsey chat with Kathryn Maude about the 11th century Queen Emma, who was married to and had children with both the English king Æthelred the Unready and his successor the Danish king Cnut the Great. The resulting political situation was complicated, and the Encomium Emmae reginae can help us understand the lines that Emma was attempting to walk as her sons grew into adulthood and prepared to take the throne. The text survives in two copies, the earliest one of which is British Library Add MS 33241, believed to be the copy that was presented to Queen Emma herself. Kathryn walks us through the manuscript and we talk about both the politics and the materiality of this fascinating text.

Listen here, or wherever you find your podcasts.

Below the cut are more photos and links relevant to the conversation.

British Library Add MS 33241, aka Encomium Emmae reginae (digitized online)

Folio 1v, the presentation of the book to Queen Emma, with her sons peeking out from the margin.

A close-up of folio 1v focusing on Emma and her sons.

A close-up of folio 1v focusing on the scribe presenting the book. Note that his hands are covered with a cloth. The son's hand has been added.

A close-up of folio 1v focusing on the curtains

Boulogne-sur-Mer, Bibliothèque municipale, MS 11, miniature of Saint John, folio 107r

Close-up of folio 107r focusing on the curtains. Note Saint John holding the book with a cloth around it.

Copenhagen, Royal Danish Library, Acc. 2011/5, aka Courtenay Compendium, which contains the late 14th century copy of the Encomium Emmae reginae (apparently not digitized)

Doors of Durin, drawn by JRR Tolkien.

The Doors of Durin (Gates of Moria) from the Fellowship of the Ring film by Peter Jackson

Middle Aged Women in the Middle Ages, edited by Sue Niebrzydowski. Gender in the Middle Ages, Volume 7. D. S. Brewer, 2011.

Folio 18r, Sven and Cnut's names are capitalized Half Uncials while the rest of the text is a regular Carolingian script.

Folio 48r, another example. Here Emma's name is capitalized at the top.

A king pointing to the text on folio 46r - "a manicule with a king attached" - with a note written beneath in the later middle ages, probably at Saint Augustine's Abbey in Canterbury.

An ugly manicule (hand pointing at the text), folio 46v.

Folio 5r, a gloss in the margin.

Folio 60r, an emoji in the margin of a couple of eyes to annotate the word oculi (Latin for eyes) in the text.

Close-up of the eyes.

Folio 58v, the parchment has been mended during the parchment preparation process, before the text was written.

Folio 54r, space was left for initials that were never added (the penciled M is probably contemporary but was never decorated)

Folio 2r, the first page of text, featuring a zoomorphic initial (i.e., an initial in the shape of an animal, in this case some sort of dragon and a fish eating each other) and colorful capitals.

Folio 8r, a zoomorphic initial R made of more critters eating each other. Good for a tattoo?

Folio 19v. "Explicit Lib[er] I" means the end of book 1, and "Incipit Secundus" means the beginning of [book] two (the second book).

Folio 50v, featuring Lindsey's ugly manicule

A close-up of the manicule

The Annunciation of Mary in Boulogne-sur-Mer, Bibliothèque municipale, MS 11

We talked to Brandon Hawk about the Vercelli Manuscript in Episode 7.

A hedgehog in the Luttrell Psalter (folio 19v)! (See it online)

"The Social Centrality of Women in Beowulf: A New Context" Dot's very first published article!

[flightlessangelwings]

Modern Day Hero

Joel Miller x fem!reader

Word count-4.6k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), oral (f receiving), praise, riding, pre or no outbreak (can be read either way), single dad Joel with Sarah (no Ellie), neighbor!Joel, fluff, mutual pining, flirting, romance, only one bed, reader is a YA novelist, protective!Joel, reader is hinted to be more curvy but can be interpreted any way, happy ending, no use of y/n

Notes- Hi @miraclesabound it's your @pedrostories secret santa!!! I took a slightly different direction instead of full on fantasy au but I still incorporated some fantasy in here! I hope you like it cause this was very fun to write!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

~

A knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts. The screen looked like a bright blur in front of your eyes as you adjusted them to the world around you. You didn’t even realize it, but hours had gone by since you looked away from your screen, too engrossed with the story you were working on to notice the passage of time. Another knock called your attention and you stretched your neck and arms as you stood up from your desk.

“Coming,” you called out to the front door.

You groaned as you moved your legs for the first time in hours and you made a mental note to take a break for a bit once you finished with whoever was at your door. As you swung it open, your breath caught in your throat as you came face to face with your neighbor.

“Joel,” you breathed… Your handsome neighbor who you secretly had feelings for.

Joel gave you an apologetic smile, “Hey,” his exhaustion was apparent in his voice, “Sorry to ask ya so last minute,” he gestured to Sarah, who stood next to him, “Would you mind watching her for the afternoon?”

“Hey!” Sarah greeted you excitedly.

“Hey Sarah,” you replied back with a sincere smile, “Come on in! My favorite houseguest is always welcome here,” you winked at her, “I’ve got some snacks in the kitchen, go help yourself.”

Sarah’s face lit up as she hugged her dad goodbye and skipped inside. Joel mumbled a soft, “Be good,” to her before he turned to you and let out a heavy breath, “I owe you one,” he sighed, “I hate to put ya out like this but this job came up and I need the money and…”

“It’s no problem, Joel. Really,” you cut him off, “Trust me, I understand,” you nudged his shoulder playfully, “Go make that money, big guy.”

That made him laugh and Joel’s eyes darted down to the ground for a moment, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he met your gaze again, “I mean it, though. I owe ya, sweetheart.” With that he hurried over to his truck and drove off.

The nickname took your breath away and your mouth hung open as your brain short circuited for a moment. You stood in the doorway and waved him goodbye as you watched him drive off. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you imagined that you were more than just neighbors… friends. You imagined that he kissed you goodbye and promised he wouldn’t be home too late. You imagined that you would make him dinner and you and Sarah would wait until he came back home.

But he wasn’t yours to have. You and Joel had lived next to each other for a couple years now. Over time, you became friends and you were more than happy to watch Sarah any time. Some nights, you all would hang out together and watch movies, and you always stuck together at neighborhood block parties. But it was never more than that.

You let out a heavy sigh as you closed the door and went inside where you found Sarah on your couch with a manuscript in her hands.

“Is this the new one you’ve been working on?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you sat down next to her, “It's the rough draft. I haven’t gotten a chance to look at my editor’s notes yet.”

“Can I read it?” Sarah asked, batting her eyes like the way her dad sometimes did.

Grinning, you nodded, “How can I say no to that face?” you laughed softly, “Let me know what you think.”

Sarah’s face lit up as she buried herself in the book. Ever since she found out you were a young adult novelist, she always eagerly awaited the next book you had for her to read. Joel definitely appreciated that you made her so interested in books and reading too. Plus, it helped that Sarah seemed to enjoy the same fantasy stories you liked to write, so having a young perspective helped you. You were sure that your writing improved when she started reading your novels and giving you input on them too.

Yet another reason to be grateful for your neighbors.

“I’m gonna go fix us something to eat while you read. Make yourself at home, Sarah.”

She always did, kicking off her shoes at the door and settling onto your couch, “Thanks!” she replied from behind the book, which she was already clearly engrossed in.

“I’ll start with some hot chocolates I think,” you said, more to yourself than to her, as you busied yourself in the kitchen.

Hours passed and the sun set long ago, yet Joel still wasn’t back. You had made you and Sarah dinner and sat with her for a bit before you went back to working on your next novel, the sequel to the draft she was reading, in fact. It was well after midnight when a knock at the door startled you and made Sarah bolt awake from where she fell asleep on your couch.

“Must be your dad,” you told Sarah as you went to answer the door.

“Hey,” Joel sounded tired, “Sorry I’m so late.”

“I was starting to think you forgot about me,” Sarah teased as she gathered her things.

“Now that hurts,” Joel feigned heartbreak, “Let’s go, baby girl.”

You snorted softly as you bid Sarah goodnight.

“Can I finish your book tomorrow?” she asked before she left, “I think this is my favorite one you’ve ever written!”

The compliment genuinely warmed you, “Of course,” you told her, “And then you can read the second one when it’s done,” you winked at her.

Sarah’s face lit up as she hugged you and bounced over to her house.

“She really liked them books of yours,” Joel commented with a grin, “I’m glad she’s been reading so much, though.”

“She’s a good kid,” you said, “How was the job?” you asked.

“It’s money,” he replied.

“That good, huh?”

Joel scoffed. His frown furrowed his brows for a moment before he looked you in the eyes and his face softened, “Thanks again for watchin’ her so late.”

You smiled back at him, “It’s no problem,” you replied in a hushed tone.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Joel reached for you, as if he wanted to hug… or maybe even kiss you, but he stopped himself. Instead, he just nodded and patted your shoulder before he went home to his daughter, leaving you in your doorway dumbfounded.

*

It was the middle of the night a few days later. Feeling accomplished at finishing your edits for the novel you let Sarah read, you crashed fairly early. You had been working hard on this novel, and it was quickly becoming your pride and joy. So you let yourself rest for the first time in weeks. But, as fate would have it, you wouldn’t rest for long.

A loud crash jolted you awake with a gasp. You sat up in bed, listening if you could figure out what the sound was, when another hiss and pop startled you. Quickly, you got out of bed and ran towards the direction of the sound, which sounded like it came from your basement.

To your dismay, when you turned on the basement light, you saw what the commotion was. A pipe burst in your basement, and everything was flooding. Panic coursed through your veins as your hands shook. Nothing like this ever happened to you before, and between your overwhelming emotions and your panic, you had no idea what to do. And it was the middle of the night, who would you even call?

You grabbed your phone and dialed the only number you could think of.

Joel’s phone rang on his bedside table, causing him to wake with a start. He groaned for a moment before he realized it was a call, and he reached for it with dread as his first thought was of his daughter, “Hello?” he answered with a low gravelly voice.

“Joel?” your voice was on the other end, sounding meek and scared.

He breathed your name as he sat up, “Everything alright?”

“I’m sorry to call in the middle of the night,” you stumbled over your words, “My basement is flooding and I don’t know what to do…”

“Hang on, I’ll be right over,” Joel replied with no hesitation. 

He rushed over as fast as he could, and Joel was thankful you were right next door. He burst in your front door and immediately gathered you in his arms, “It’s alright,” he cooed, “I’ve got this.”

You stood in a daze, unsure what to do as Joel got to work. The first thing he did was turn off your water, stopping the rushing water. Then he called the emergency line and let them know what happened and got to work draining the standing water. When backup arrived, he helped them, taking the lead for you.

“Hey,” Joel was suddenly in front of you, his hands on your shoulders, “That’s all we can do for now,” he said, “The water’s all gone but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here until it gets cleaned out,” he paused, “Why don’t you stay at my place tonight and I’ll help you finish this tomorrow.”

Your eyes went wide as your mind raced, but you also couldn’t turn him down, “Ok,” you whispered.

Joel kept you at his side as he led you back to his house. You were sure he was telling you more details about what happened and what he did to fix it, but you didn’t absorb any of what he said. All you could think about was his large, strong hands on you and how he jumped in to help with no hesitation. It made your heart pound in your chest that it took you a moment to realize you were standing in his bedroom.

“What?” you asked, realizing that he said something important to you.

Joel just smiled softly, “I said Sarah’s out at a sleepover tonight so it’s just us. But I don’t have a spare room, so you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No,” you replied quickly. When he looked at you confused, you clarified, “I mean… I don’t mind…” you felt your skin heat up and your head spun. 

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed. You paused for a moment, “Sorry to put you out like this…”

“Now don’t you start that on me, sweetheart,” Joel interrupted you, “You ain’t putin me out at all.”

The care in his voice made your heart melt. You swallowed hard and nodded before you looked at his bed, “What side can I take?” you joked to cover your nerves.

Joel grinned.

You settled in easier than you thought you would. You felt safe with Joel, there was no question there. But, after imagining what it would be like to be in his bed for so long, it made your heart pound to actually be here. Letting out a deep breath, you tried to calm your racing mind. The bed dipped as Joel got in on the other side, and you each laid with your back to the other.

The two of you laid together in silence before Joel broke it, “So,” he sighed, “Sarah told me about that new book you wrote…”

You pressed your lips together as your heart pounded in your chest, “Did she like it?” you asked in a hushed tone, suddenly nervous.

“She loved it,” Joel let out a soft laugh, “Where’d you get the idea for it?”

“Oh,” you breathed, “It just comes to me I guess.”

An unspoken question lingered in the air: “Who did you base the hero off of?” You were sure Sarah told Joel about each character, and you were sure that the hero would feel familiar to him…

Instead, Joel decided not to ask, as much as the question nagged at his mind. He let out a deep breath before he murmured, “Night, sweetheart.”

You felt a flutter in your chest before sleep took you. As you slept, you dreamt of the plot of your novel, only you were the main character. In your dream, you were a princess, the daughter of the king. You and your family were well respected and beloved by your people. You dreamt of the balcony in the castle that you described so vividly and you looked out over your kingdom on a beautiful, sunny day.

Then, you were out in the streets of your kingdom. In disguise, you loved to secretly mingle with the people as equals. Their craftsmanship always fascinated and inspired you, and you loved to wander the markets. That was where you met him: the blacksmith. Joel Miller. He worked diligently on the sword in his hands, and you watched him as he formed the most exquisite sword you had ever laid your eyes on. Even the knights in your royal guard didn’t have weapons this grand. 

Following the plot of your novel, you and the blacksmith with Joel’s face met and quickly fell in love. He soon discovered that you were the princess, but it didn’t change his feelings for you. Nor did his status mean anything when it came to your heart. As the two of you fell deeper in love, the novel’s villain, the evil wizard that worked for your father and secretly tried to steal his throne, tried to steal you away. The blacksmith Joel- your hero-  fought against all odds to rescue you, and the two of you rode away to your happily ever after in the sunset…

Suddenly, you woke up with a weight across your body, and for a moment you were confused. But a snore from Joel reminded you of your current situation. You held your breath as you fully opened your eyes and adjusted to the low light of the moon through the window. You still stayed on your side, but Joel had rolled over in his sleep and slung an arm around you.

Your heart pounded as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. He groaned in his sleep as he clutched you tighter, and it made you gasp. Not out of discomfort or fear, but from the yearning in your heart.

The noise you made must have woken Joel, who was accustomed to always listening for any sign that Sarah needed him, and he woke up with a low grumble. It took him a moment to realize what he did in his sleep, and once he did, Joel shot awake.

“Shit,” he muttered as he pushed himself off of you, “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s ok, Joel,” you whispered as you turned over and faced him. I don’t mind, you thought to yourself but didn’t voice out loud. 

He looked flustered, even as sleep clung to his features. As you took in the sight of him in the moonlight, you noticed the mess of his hair and the softness around his eyes. And it only made Joel more beautiful to you.

“I uhh,” he started, unsure of what to say to break the tension that hung between the two of you.

“Joel…” you started, also unsure of what to do. Part of you screamed to confess your feelings, but the other part was scared of what that would mean. “He was you.”

“What?” Joel asked as he shifted to sit up in bed.

“The hero of the story, the blacksmith that falls in love with the princess and saves her,” your voice was meek as you confessed, “I based him off of you,” slowly, your eyes turned to meet his. 

Joel whispered your name, “Listen I…”

You stared deep into his eyes as he struggled to find the right words. Joel’s gaze darted around the room until it landed in your face, and instead of voicing it with words, Joel turned to action. He scooted himself closer to you and cupped your face in his large hand. It was warm, and you let out a breath as you leaned into his touch.

Joel pulled your face close to his until his lips hovered over yours, “You know you can stop me, right?” his voice was low as he whispered against your skin.

“I know,” you replied in just as soft a voice as you made no move to stop him.

A smirk lit up his face for a moment before he closed the small space between your faces, taking your lips with his in a soft yet heated kiss. You leaned into him as you reached out and clung to his shoulders and parted your lips to deepen the kiss- an invitation he eagerly took.

Things quickly heated up from there as Joel groaned into you, kissing you passionately. All the tension from the unspoken emotions melted away as your tongues tangled together. Neither of you needed the words spoken out loud- the kiss told more than enough for both of you.

Joel gently pushed you down onto your back as he climbed over you, all the while never breaking away from your lips. You moaned into him as you let him take control. The feeling of Joel on top of you was even better than when he held you in his sleep. Before you even realized your movements, you bucked your hips into his, signaling you wanted… needed more. 

“I got you, baby,” Joel groaned softly into your ear as he kissed his way down your neck, tugging at your clothes as he did so.

“Joel…” you moaned as your eyes fluttered shut and inch after inch of your skin was exposed to him.

“Shit baby,” Joel growled as he slipped his own t-shirt off, “You’re gorgeous,” his tone was low as he pushed his sweat pants down, freeing his cock.

Your eyes snapped open as you saw Joel, bare before you. Your lips parted as a heavy breath escaped your lips and you drank in the sight of him. The moonlight highlighted his features perfectly, and he looked more handsome than ever.

“So are you, Joel,” you breathed as you tried to push yourself onto your elbows and reach for him.

He took your hands gently and guided you back down onto your back, “Let me, sweetheart.”

A whimper escaped your lips as he settled between your parted legs, wriggling himself down your body and kissing every inch of skin on the way. Joel took his time, gently kneading and kissing your breasts, worshiping your body as he made his way to your pussy.

You quickly turned into a moaning, whimpering mess as Joel’s tongue ran along your nipple while his rough hands cupped your breasts. Already, he made you feel so good, but the more he kissed your skin, the more your need grew. Thankfully, though Joel didn’t rush, he still knew what you wanted and he broke away from your breast with a pop before he knelt down between your legs.

He paused and looked back up at you for a moment, and his cock twitched with desire as he saw the lustful look on your face. Your mouth hung open to let the heavy breaths out, and laying naked in the moonlight you never looked more stunning to him.

“I’m gonna take care of you, baby,” he groaned before he dove into your body.

You couldn’t even answer when you felt his hot tongue on your folds, licking and sucking at your pussy with fervor. Any thoughts vanished and all you could think of was Joel and how good his tongue felt. Your head dropped back and you screamed with pleasure, your hands clinging and clawing on Joel’s bare shoulders. 

Joel slurped loudly as he let himself go. Any inhibition was gone the moment he tasted you, and instantly he was addicted. And the sounds you made only added to the moment. Joel only got harder and harder the louder you cried out. His hands grabbed onto your thighs, kneading your soft flesh as he kept them parted wide.

“Fuck… Joel…” tears filed your eyes as your body felt like it was floating. 

He groaned into you and only licked harder and faster at your clit, determined to send you over the edge. As much as Joel wanted to talk you through your climax, he couldn’t break away from you even if it were for his last gasp of air. No, Joel wasn’t going to break away until you came into his mouth.

Joel didn’t have to wait long, though, and with just a few more precise flicks of his tongue, you came hard, screaming loudly. One hand flew into his hair, tugging at the thick locks while your legs shook on either side of him. Joel’s hips bucked against the bed on their own, field by your moans and screams as you rode out your climax on his face.

With a loud gasp, Joel finally let go of your pussy. His hands stayed on your legs as he watched you come down from your high, his eyes blown dark and wide with need. Heavy breaths from both of you filled the room as Joel stared at you.

When you finally opened your eyes, you let out a sharp breath before you froze under his gaze. Joel never looked at you like that before, though you imagined that look on his face a hundred times before.

“Joel…”

He pounced forward, taking your lips with own, cutting off whatever you were going to say. Both of you moaned into each other as you clung to the other in your feverish kiss. Joel took the opportunity while you were lost in the kiss to flip your bodies over in one swift movement. You yelped into his mouth as you suddenly found yourself straddling him, looking down on his handsome face.

“Are you sure?” you asked in a whisper, feeling nervous about being on top of Joel.

“I’m sure, baby,” Joel groaned as his hands caressed up and down the sides of your body, “Let me see you ride me, baby.”

The twitch of his cock against your body made you whine, and any insecurities you had disappeared. Placing a hand on his chest, you leaned forward and took his cock with your free hand. Joel’s eyes went wide and he let out a low groan as he watched the moonlight highlight your pussy as you hovered over him.

Joel moaned your name as his hands went to your hips, giving them a squeeze before he helped guide you onto his length. Your eyes met his for a moment before you looked back down, watching as you slowly sank down on the thick length.

His eyes never left you, and he gritted his teeth as the tip of his cock entered your body. Your heat engulfed him, and he couldn’t help the groan he let out as more and more of you wrapped around his cock. You hissed as you adjusted to the stretch, but Joel murmured encouraging words in a low tone to help.

“Look at you, baby. Takin’ me so good like that,” Joel growled, “Fuck you’re so beatiful…”

As your hips met his, you let out a loud gasp as he filled you more than you had ever been filled before. “Fuck… Joel…” you moaned as your eyes fluttered shut as you slowly rocked your hips back and forth.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Joel’s grip tightened on your hips. Caressing your body, Joel’s hands moved back to your ass, squeezing it even harder and making you moan. “That’s it, baby.”

You blinked your eyes open for a moment before shutting them again. All you could do was moan; words failed you. Slowly at first, you lifted your hips a bit before lowering them again, causing you both to gasp. Joel grunted as you repealed the action.

“Fuck…” you moaned as you picked up your pace.

Leaning forward, your hands landed on Joel’s chest, gripping his pecs as you rode him faster and harder. Already sensitive from having cum once, it took you no time to feel the tingle build from the base of your spine as Joel’s cock entered you over and over again.

“Joel… I’m gonna…”

“Fuck… Me too, baby,” Joel’s hands ran up your sides to grab you and yank you down.

Crashing your lips together, Joel thrust his hips up into you from below, matching your rhythm as your climaxes quickly built until you both exploded at the same time. He swallowed the moan you let out as your body trembled overtop of him and your inner muscles squeezed his cock. Joel grunted as he gave one last harsh thrust and came right after you, spilling himself into you as he held you tightly. 

With one last heavy breath, both you and Joel flopped down onto the mattress in a heaving, sweaty mess. You rested on his broad chest, feeling his pounding heartbeat against your ear. Neither of you moved for several moments, just savoring the connection you still had as your breathing returned to normal.

“Hang on, baby,” Joel broke the silence as he wrapped his arms around you once more, “I got you.”

You whimpered as he slid out of you, but you never left Joel’s embrace. He settled you next to him, much like you were before. Only this time, you faced him, and Joel held you with intention. The two of you slipped into place as if you had been together for years. It just felt right… for both of you.

“Joel,” you whispered as sleep started to take you, “I…” you let out a soft snore before you could finish your thought.

Joel grinned as he kissed the top of your head and whispered to your sleeping form, “I know, baby,” he spoke lowly, “Me too.” 

*

Sarah let herself in with her key and bounced up the stairs. Fully expecting to find Joel alone, she burst his door open and loudly announced, “Dad, I’m home,” before she froze in her tracks. She was taken by surprise to find you in her father’s bed, snuggled close in his arms. 

Joel gasped awake and shot upright, “Sarah!” he glanced over and made sure you were covered as you too woke up with a gasp, “What are you doing home so early?”

“It’s noon,” she replied with a mischievous smirk, “It’s about time you two had your own sleepover.”

“Sarah…” Joel chastised her, but she already left the room.

Joel collapsed back down onto the bed with an exasperated sigh, “Shit,” he mumbled before he turned to you and met your gaze. The two of you stared at each other in silence for a moment before you both burst into laughter. He pulled you close and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before leaning you down onto his chest. 

“Guess we should get up, huh?” you asked with a soft giggle.

“Yeah,” Joel agreed as he reluctantly let you go.

As you both dressed with your back to each other, your glance over and your breath caught in your chest as you saw Joel’s bare back in the sunlight. He must have felt your eyes on him, or he wanted to sneak a glance at you too, because he looked over his shoulder right after you did. Smirks lit up both your faces as you went back to dressing.

“Hey Joel,” you broke the silence this time.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks,” you spoke in a hushed tone, “For everything.”

Joel finished dressing and walked around the foot of the bed to take you in his arms once more, “You aint never gotta thank me for anything, baby,” he murmured, “I’ve always got you.”

You smiled and closed your eyes contently, “I picked the right man for my hero then… blacksmith.” you snickered at your modern day hero. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel rolled his eyes playfully as you both took your first steps to the bright future. 

[jessource]

prompts:　ttpd, the anthology by taylor swift.

your location, you forgot to turn it off.

the only thing that's left is the manuscript, one last souvenir from my trip to your shores

could it be enough to just float in your orbit?

quick, quick, tell me something awful, like you are a poet trapped inside the body of a finance guy.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

now and then she rereads the manuscriptof the entire torrid affair.

if you wanna tear my world apart, just say you've always wondered.

if comfort is a construct, i don't believe in good luck.

i move through the world with a broken heart.

they killed cassandra first, 'cause she feared the worst.

don't want money, just someone who wants my company.

say it once again with feeling.

even statues crumble if they're made to wait.

we here-by conduct the post portem.

what doesn't kill you makes you awake.

they tried to warn you about me.

i'm not a doner, but i'd give you my heart if you wanted.

i got cursed like eve got bitten.

i hate it here so i will go to secret gardens in my mind.

i feel so high school every time i look at you.

I look in people's windows like i'm some deranged weirdo.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

she wrotе headlines in the local paper, laughing at each baby step i'd take.

one bad seed kills the garden.

when the truth comes out, it's quiet.

you see, i was a debutante in another life.

you have a favorite spot on the swing set.

the empathetic hunger descends.

i'm addicted to the 'if only'.

he said that if the sex was half as good as the conversation was, soon they'd be pushin' strollers. soon it was over.

oh, we must stop meeting like this.

way to go, tiger.

i built a legacy that you can't undo.

you said some things that i can't unabsorb, you turned me into an idea of sorts.

i may never open up the way i did for you.

he was a cad, wanted her bad just like any good trophy hunter.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

they knew, they knew, they knew the whole time.

i don't think you've changed much.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

they set my life in flames.

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

i loved you the way that you were.

you're a just ruler covered in mud, you look ridiculous.

i'm there most of the year, 'cause i hate it here.

you saw my bones out with somebody new who seemed like he would've bullied you in school.

how did it end? i can't pretend like i understand.

this place made me feel worthless.

i wanna find you in a crowd, just to hide from you.

quick, quick. tell me something awful.

i won't confess that i waited, but i let the lamp burn.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

Buried down deep

out of your reach the secret we all vowed to keep it from you in sweetness.

splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless.

old habits die screaming.

i'm lonely, but i'm good.

in my fantasies, i rise about it.

forgive me, [name], please know that i tried.

if i sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon?

behind her back, her best mates laughed.

you needed me, but you needed drugs more, and i can't watch it happen.

she's the albatross, she is here to destroy you.

i'll tell you one thing, honey. i can tell when somebody still wants me.

were you makin' fun of me?

nostalgia is a mind's trick.

i read about it in a book when I was a precocious child.

does it feel alright to now know me?

excellent fun 'til you get to know her.

life was always easier on you.

tell me all your secrets, all you'll ever be.

it wasn't a fair fight.

if i die screaming, i hope you hear it.

i can confirm she made a curious child, ever reviled by everyone except her own father.

are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me?

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

all that time you were throwin' punches, i was buildin' somethin'.

one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen.

i'm hearing voices like a madman.

you said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

but i can't forget the way you made me heal.

they nicknamed her 'the bolter'.

wise men once said 'wild winds are death to the candle'.

now i wanna sell my house and set fire to all my clothes.

i'm gonna get you back.

push the reset button, we're becomin' something new.

i'm watchin' american pie with you on a saturday night.

i'm an aston martin that you steered straight into the ditch.

[foursaints]

lily be the kind of vampire to awkwardly flirt her way into acquiring your blood type and barty be the kind of shithead to laugh and mock her for it while she actively has her fangs inside him

lily as a vampire is a wonderful concept because i have trouble imagining her out of the sunshine. i think she still looks as lively & red-blooded & sunkissed as the farmers daughter she was before getting turned and it’s very dangerous.

vampire!regulus is my favorite though… that man is allergic to three different blood types and will despondently sigh after sucking someone dry because now he has a rash. he got turned in 1446 after his monastery gave shelter to a dark & mysterious stranger (he was the ambiguously homosexual spare son sacked off to go illuminate manuscripts) and he specifically was bitten because he was the only monk bitchy enough to verbally be like “hey maybe we should not give shelter to this guy his vibes are fucking terrible”. only thing he ever enjoyed in his undead life was living to see high collars & male corsets come into fashion and he’s still sopping around moping about how short-lived it was like a century later

[trashboatprince]

For the writing meme aziraphale crowley with "I've got your back, ok?" please?

Sounds good! :D

On with the fic!

--

"Crowley!" Aziraphale shouted in distress when the addressed demon waltzed into the shop. "Oh, Crowley, I need your help!"

Crowley blinked slowly behind his shades, stopping in his task of heading for the back room. "Uh, what's the matter? Did someone touch one of your first editions with sticky fingers?"

"No, no! It's not that, it's just..." Aziraphale looked antsy, pacing in a small circle. Crowley waited patiently, knowing that it was best to let the angel gather his thoughts before speaking again.

Aziraphale stopped, let out a small breath, then turned to face him, frowning deeply. "I made a mistake."

"A mistake."

"Yes, you see, I tend to schedule things for myself, events for the month, what days some of my favorite restaurants want me to stop by for taste testing, when Maggie wants to have tea with me while we listen to her record collection, all that!"

Crowley nodded, gesturing for him to continue. "Right, well, I noticed my schedule for today at half past two is the auction. You know the one, I was telling you about it."

"The one with those books and manuscripts from the Eastern Mediterranean, yes?"

Aziraphale's pleased smile made Crowley's insides feel like melted butter on fresh bread. "Oh, you were listening! Anyway, yes, well, I had already planned to go to the auction to obtain some of the items, or at least try my hand at getting them. I've got my eyes on a certain manuscript..."

"But?"

"But I had made a huge mistake! At the exact same time, I'm meant to be dealing with new clientele on this street, and I'm the landlord of the building! I had mistaken the date, I had thought it was next month, but no, it's today, and I can't change it on that young couple. They're looking forward to opening up their bakery of... well..." A blush came over his face for a second. "It certainly fits the spirit of SoHo and its history with adult... enjoyments."

Crowley grinned. "An erotic bakery? Cute. So, what's the problem?"

"I can't cancel on them, the meeting is to be done today so they can get started with renovations for the shop as soon as possible. And the auction is only today, once the sells are done, they're done!"

The demon crossed his arms, tilting his head. "Sooooo... it's either do your job, or go and blow your money on rare goods?"

"You make it sound like a bad thing..."

"No, no, I'm just thinkin' aloud." Crowley rolled his head. "Alright, I'll help. You wanna do the auction and I do the landlord thing?"

Aziraphale's smile could rival the sun's brightness. "Y-you'd do it? Really?"

"'s no problem, angel, I've had to do the landlord thing for you a few times in the past, remember? I think I helped with setting up the lease for that one shop, that music guy, the one that likes Doctor Who. Remember? You had to do that mission in Canada."

"Ah, yes, I remember! Oh, thank you, so much!"

"Eh, don't thank me. I've got your back, okay? Like I always do, just take me to that nice wine bar later tonight in return, yeah?"

"Of course, of course." Aziraphale said, still smiling, before grabbing Crowley's hands, giving them a squeeze. "You are simply the best, Crowley, how can I ever repay you?"

Crowley made a noise with his throat that sounded like a vacuum that sucked up something it shouldn't have. He turned his head away, not wanting to look at that beautiful face. "W-wine bar! That's enough of a thanksssss! Now, go get yourself dolled up, you've got some ancient nerd stuff to purchase."

--

I dunno why I picked erotic bakery, but it's SoHo, and canonically Aziraphale's shop is right next to an adult shop. Oh, and Mrs. Sandwich works there and we all know what sort of business she runs. :)

[leoba]

Manuscripts, Humanity, and AI

Image of a manuscript, generated in MidJourney by Suzette van Haaren

(a few words originally posted on Twitter on March 27, 2023 and then on my blog. It’s resonating there so I thought I would post it here too.)

I’ve been trying all morning to figure out what bothers me about these Mid journey-generated manuscripts without simply sounding like a Luddite, and I think I finally have it.

It’s because my interest in manuscripts is almost entirely about the humanity behind them. Who made them? Who used them and why? What happened to them after they were made? Where are they now? What did they mean in the past and what do they mean now?

A computer generated book doesn’t have any of that context. I’ve talked about the uncanny valley with regard to digitized manuscripts, and this is that, one step further. It’s one thing to digitize a manuscript in a way that elides its materiality, and a whole other thing to create manuscripts that don’t exist materially at all.

I think there are potentially interesting ways to use AI in my work. I’m interested in structure, and have been part of a project, VisColl, to develop models and software to build models of manuscripts. Could AI be used to combine structural models and digital images to create photorealistic imagery of existing manuscripts? Imagine an AI reconstruction of manuscripts cut apart and distributed by Otto Ege. Could it even generate pages that are lost as semi-realistic placeholders?

Just a few thoughts. I’m less interested in generating realistic looking manuscripts than in the potential to leverage the technology to help us understand the use and history of manuscripts that exist in the real world.

Added: If you’d like to hear me talk more about manuscripts and humanity, check out Coffee With A Codex, a weekly 30-minute program both live and posted to YouTube where I present a show-and-tell with books from the University of Pennsylvania’s premodern manuscript collections, and Inside My Favorite Manuscript, a weekly podcast I do in my own time where I talk to people who love manuscripts about manuscripts they love the most.

[chlodobird-creations]

I just finished making D&D spellbooks for myself and my DM! The cleric spell list is inside :) Both books are hand-bound.

(More photos and explanation below the cut)

The books turned out to be the perfect travel-size (4.5"x6"x1.5"). Pen for scale:

I designed the card layout myself, since I didn't love the ones I was seeing online. The pages are cardstock and I dyed them with coffee, baked them in the oven, and then individually ironed each page to have the right amount of waviness. This was the most painful and time-consuming part of the process lmao. Before ironing, the books were around 5 inches thick instead of 1.5", so it was definitely worth it!

The binding is hand-sewn and reinforced with fabric and glue (Elmer's glue is surprisingly durable AND acid free!!). For the covers, I used a red, textured scale fabric for a dragon leather look (thank god for Michaels coupons) and a hell of a lot of Gorilla fabric glue to adhere it to the chipboard, I also made sure that the darkest area lined up with the spine and faded out to a lighter red on the front and back.

My favorite detail is probably the black-and-gold ribbon with a leaf pattern, since it reminds me of medieval manuscripts and was a lucky find - I had exactly enough for the two books, not an inch extra. It's even got bits of red to match the cover!

[raindrop-on-a-spiderweb]

Sending love to one of the best writers on ao3 😘💕 I check your page frequently and wanted to ask about the things that you enjoy doing or aspire to do

Hi Anon, it's so sweet of you to send this ask to ask after me. Rest assured your words are appreciated on this end; thank you from the bottom of my heart and top of my soul 🫂 I'm very glad you think highly of my work even after so long, and I'm so so sorry I haven't had any new content in such a long time. But I am hard at work on a oneshot that will definitely be published before the next chapter of Samarra, so the well won't stay dry for long! The summary is “A jaded prison nurse must come to rely on a man she hates and fears in the midst of a deadly prison riot.” I started writing it in the ward; it's based off of the Moundsville Penitentiary which is an especially spooky place I've been to–an old 19th century prison made of towering stone turrets, eerie high ceilings, and rusted iron cells packed together like pigsties. I'm hoping to get that atmosphere across; it's about ⅔ of the way finished so good progress is being made!

Well I enjoy writing, most of all, but I've already talked about that in detail a thousand times so I'll spare you. I love reading, of course (I just finished “The Five”, about the victims of Jack the Ripper, and it's a fascinating bit of history and an incredible and horrifying look at Victorian-era industrial Britain). I love exploring the mountains with my cats trotting along beside me and photographing what I find. In all honesty I'm a bit of a trappist–I rarely see people except hunters and cashiers, and most of my time is spent alone with myself or my dad. But each day is an adventure when you're in nature and each season brings primordial and beautiful changes– I collected watercress the other day and found the downy remains of a fawn. 

I love watching old movies. My dad and I were watching Laurel and Hardy last night and I swear it holds up a century later. Before that we watched King Rat, which is one of his–and my–favorite movie; about two men stuck in a Japanese prison camp and the Machiavellian and underhanded ways they survive there. The book is particularly good too, and the epilogue about rats devouring each other has haunted my dreams for a long time. 

On the same subject, a series that I highly recommend is called Tenko, which is very similar to King Rat, except the prisoners are women. It's so grueling, realistic and enrapturing; I've never seen anything that so squarely focuses on women's experiences, relationships with each other, the hardships they face, and how they struggle to survive together in a thankless, deprived environment. The backstabbing and despair that comes in their darkest moments, the love and support in which they uplift each other with, their mistrustful and uneven relationships with their captors that occasionally erupt in friendships and affairs–and all the episodes are on dailymotion, too!

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x74u4fi

I like dreaming most of all. So many of my story ideas come from my dreams. The worst thing in the world is waking up and trying to catch the stray strands of the dream slipping through your fingers. It's amazing to live so many lives–good or bad–inside your head. Sometimes when I wake up, I feel a sweeping, palpable sense of relief that I don't live in the world I conjured last night, and sometimes I wish I could just claw myself back into my brain and live in that little pocket world for the rest of my life.

I do not aspire to much. I don't really have any base wishes but to keep writing and live til 70. We all have our hopeful fantasies, of course, and when I finally do get Ragnatela on Amazon Kindle (Microsoft Word is trying to swindle me out of one hundred and fifty American dollars to use their dogshit platform, and since the manuscript is half-edited, I'm afraid to lose my formatting if I switched to a free program like Libreoffice) maybe it will get some attention. 

I still intend on writing on Ao3 until the day I die, though. Even with its unsavory content I have such a soft spot for its unrestricted freedom of speech and prose. Plus I don't want to give up talking to you guys and goofing off in the comments ☹️ I also aspire to stop drinking. I'm sure I've already shaved a few years off my lifespan with my tippling habit. But when one day is much like the other, is there much point in extending it?

I aspire to travel around the United States more. I took a trip through the Deep South to visit Savannah and it was enrapturing; something I will remember for the rest of my life. Rusted-out cars felted in green moss, skinny, grazing horses in windswept fields, peeling roadside signs advertising tent revivals, clownish golliwogs behind still windows of cafes, forgotten tugboats half-sunken into lagoons, highway strip hotels where craggy hookers peered at you suspiciously from their fold-up chairs, and derelict cemeteries separated between Union and Confederate. It was just post-Irma and we were often the only tourists at any of these places. The effects of the hurricane were stark and obvious, with the land in a state of shock before any official agencies came to clean them up. I remember boats crashed into the harbor and grandfather trees felled in front of opulent antebellum homes, and the sea churned brown and murky when we trekked to the beach. The sense of desolation, and not only from the hurricane, was chilling–but I loved being there and loved being swathed by the kudzu and history. My mother is very ill and before she dies we might make up briefly and take a trip to New Orleans together and explore rural Louisiana; I'd always wanted to write a story set in New Orleans. Louisiana is a fascinating state with its mixture of Napoleonic and Creole influences; and I've always been drawn to the grand, decaying tombs of New Orleans as much as I have been to the odd Francophone swamps and their hidden dialects and traditions. And one day I would like to go way, way out west and explore the Gold Rush ghost towns. All the mines where I am are filled-in, so I would like to venture underneath the earth just once. 

Most of all, I aspire to be alone, and live by myself for the rest of my life, far away from town, somewhere in the mountains like where I am now. I wish I didn't have to see another person for the rest of my life. Being alone with myself is bad enough, being with others is intolerable.

Anyways, I apologize for my undue pleonasm, you caught me in a chatty mood 😀 Here's an excerpt from the newest prison one-shot:

Rhoda had met Jesse Fitzner her first day on the job. It was midway through her shift, and she was taking a lunch break and grading her sister Sherise's homework in her office. The day had started with a white-knuckle ride in early morning mist so thick she couldn't see the taillights of the car in front of her. Midway through her preliminary tour of the prison, an inmate had stuffed his toilet full of socks, which promptly overflowed and leaked sewage out of the cell onto her high heels. The hoots and jeers had made her speed up, trying to avoid the leering eyes of her future patients. And her introduction to the mental ward, by a younger but just as pessimistic Fawna, had not lifted her mood any either.

So there she sat in her office, snatching a moment of calmness and frantically scribbling corrections over Sherise's homework before her sister turned it in tomorrow. And then the door swung open.

A blond man poked his head in and briefly raised his eyebrows. He was wearing the omnipresent, drab gray prison uniform, pants and a sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows. "What are you up to?"

She flipped the cover of the notebook over.

"Going over my sister's homework. Is there something you need?"

"Passing on a message to Nurse Judson. One of the inmates wants to switch his blood pressure medication."

"Oh, she'll be back soon. I think she's–doing something with the prisoners. Just give her a few minutes."

"No hurry." He pulled the chair opposite her and sat down in it. "So you're grading your kid sister's homework? Shouldn't she be doing that herself?"

The man had thick blond hair that stuck up in back like a duck's tail, and very rosy cheeks. He looked like he had just shaven, by the nicks on his neck. 

"It's a long story. I should be–"

"I've got time. If this is your first day, you need to take some time to yourself to relax--else you'll end up in the infirmary."

Rhoda laughed. He had a nice smile and a nice manner about him–very jovial and friendly. It was refreshing to see a man who didn't stare at her like she was a piece of meat. "Well, my parents died when my brother and I were still young. Seth was seventeen, I was fifteen. He went to work so we didn't have to break up the family, and I stayed home to care for my little siblings, all three of them. It wasn't fun. I always wanted to do more for them than what I was stuck with, so I'm making sure they get good grades and go to good colleges. That's why I got this job in the first place, to put some back for their college funds."

"That's real decent of you. I don't know a single woman who would go so far for their family. You'd best be proud of yourself. Where's your brother now?"

"He's working out of state in Pennsylvania. He found a good woman and has a concrete contracting business now."

"You got yourself a man?"

"Never saw the need. Someday, maybe, when I'm lonelier."

"Working here for a few years will train that loneliness for a man right outta of you." 

They both laughed at that, and Rhoda felt her tensed muscles begin to relax. "I didn't catch your name."

"Jesse Lee Fitzner." He reached across the desk to grip her hand. For being such a small-built man, he had a crushing handshake.

"Rhoda Ames. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I knew a few Ameses when I was on the outside. Where your folks from?"

"Beckworth, west of here."

"Oh, you're bullshitting me. I have folks from there too. You don't know a Harry Fitzner, do you?"

"Harry who used to run the car repair shop?"

"That's him! My uncle. He retired a few years ago. His lungs got to him. Too much time in the mines."

The door slammed open again. An elderly prison guard, who had greeted her rather abruptly upon her hiring and who had a hard and wrinkled face, was standing in the doorway. When he saw Jesse, his face grew harder. "What are you doing here, inmate?"

Jesse raised his hands, still not moving from where he was leaning back on the chair. "Just dropping off a message for Nurse Judson."

"Next time, leave the message with Nurse Ames and promptly return to your cell. There's no reason for you to be here actin' so friendly."

To Rhoda's mild disappointment, the guard grabbed Jesse by his arm and yanked him out, harder than he needed to. Before he was escorted out, Jesse tossed a glance over her shoulder and winked at her. "Rhoda, you're a young lady, and I'm a bit of a spring chicken myself. I think we would get along real well outside these walls."

Rhoda couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up from her throat. She felt lightheaded. She was a rangy and abrupt woman with a working tan, and hadn't much experience with men flirting with her.

When Jesse was marched out, Rhoda stood up and grabbed her peaked nurse's cap, girding her loins for the next shift on the ward. While she was counting medications, the elderly guard–Miles–came in again and shut the door behind him. She flinched, expecting a dressing-down on her first day of work. I wasn't fraternizing with the prisoner, was I? Am I… am I gonna lose my job?

He sat down opposite her. "You ever hear that tale 'bout the lady and the snake?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"Old story; old, old story. One of them Aesop stories they wrote when people was still in togas and carved words in stone. A woman was walking home one day when she saw a frozen snake lying on the side of the road. It begged her to save its poor little self, this little creature of God. So taking pity on it, the woman brought it home and warmed it by the fire between her breasts. And as it thawed, it bit her breast. 'Oh, why would you do such a thing? Your poison will kill me,’ she wailed. And the snake smiled and said, 'You knew I was a snake before you brought me into your house.'"

Rhoda stared at him, puzzled. "I don't understand."

"You know what that fellow did to get in here? Fitzner was top dog in a motorcycle gang outside of prison. A real nasty one. He ordered a contract killing on a rival gang member. They snatched the poor fellow when he was leaving a bar. Hung him from a tree, broke his legs with doublejack hammers, used him as target practice with their sawed-offs, cut his dick off and shoved it in his mouth, then left and let him choke on it and bleed to death for the rest of the night. He was out, too, far out in the mountains, and they only found him weeks later when a hunter stumbled on him. One of the killers snitched on Fitzner in exchange for dropping a drug felony sentence he was staring at. That snitch went into hiding and changed his name. Two days after Fitzner was taken to this good penitentiary, he was found with his head beaten in, in a dry creek bed."

Rhoda's head began to spin in slow whirls. Her hand where Jesse had shaken it grew very clammy. She remembered his bright smile across the desk, his dark eyes, and felt bile and vomit churn in her throat.

"You both were talking for a while, I noticed. He's good at prising information out of people, Fitzner is. A boyish smile and a few good words and he can make both men and women melt like butter on yer tongue. See? Now he knows who you are, and where your folks live. Now he can get to you."

Rhoda tried to talk, but her tongue was paralyzed. She looked down and wiped her sweaty hands on her knees.

Miles got up and went over to the door. He looked out of the window set on top, and his hard face relaxed. He seemed much older in that moment, more wrinkled and exhausted.

"You'd best be careful of him, Nurse Ames. He's a bad 'un. I'll be glad to see the back of him."

As it turned out, Miles retired later that year and it was Jesse who saw the back of him. 

And Rhoda became very wary of him from then on. Whenever he saw her in the hall, in the chow line, in the infirmary, he smiled at her and tried to make small talk. She ignored him, or was curt with him.

Unfortunately, he seemed to take that as an invitation.

[boxofbonesfic]

Your favorite writer is offering an exclusive meet and greet.

Only a select few have been chosen and you're one of them.

You don't remember applying but why turn down the chance to meet the one and only Ransom Drysdale.

Congratulations!

Don't be late.

Title: Handpicked

Word count: 1,285

Warnings: Manipulation, Implied Kidnapping, Drugging, Noncon/Dubcon, Smut, Dead Dove Do not Eat, Dark AU, Basement wife

a/n: 👀 welp. i did what had to be done, and i can only hope you enjoy it!! divider by @firefly-graphics

The manor is imposing as you approach it, looming darkly over your car from the road as you pull up to the gate. It’s closed, like the invitation had said it would be, and nervously you roll down your window, grunting a little as you stretch to reach the intercom button. A low buzzing noise emanates from the speaker as you wait for a response.

 “Yes? Who is it?”

 You swallow thickly before stammering out your own name. “I, er, I have a meeting? With Ransom Drysdale?” Even saying it feels sacrilegious, like a blatant lie, even though you have the invitation printed out and sitting in your passenger seat to prove it. You knew there was little chance of the authors you idolized ever even knowing your name, but after your third attempt to get on at Blood Like Wine publishing had finally landed you a coveted spot amongst the industry’s up and coming writers, it seemed the Ransom Drysdale had taken a personal interest in you. 

 Kim, your agent, had forwarded you the email for the meet-and-greet with no small measure of pride—after all, there weren’t many first time authors being invited to shake hands with the greats. 

 The gate slid up and open, and you edged your car down the long driveway, your fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel. The butterflies in your stomach were eager to escape up your throat and out of your mouth as you parked. Gravel crunching under your patent leather heels as you exited the vehicle, brushing imaginary specks of dirt from your pencil skirt and straightening your blouse. Looking around, you realize there are no other cars in the lot—like you’re the only one here. You know the thought is ridiculous, after all, you can’t have been the only new author at the publishing house that Ransom has taken an interest in, right? 

 “You’re early.” The sound of another voice makes you snap to attention, turning quickly to face the manor. At the top of the stairs is Ransom Drysdale himself, leaning against one of the massive porch’s gilded support pillars. “Good sign.”

 You rush up the stairs, your hand outstretched to shake. “I hope that’s okay,” you say nervously as his large hand wraps around your own. “I hate being late.” 

 “No, no, please. Right this way, we’ll be in the sun-room.” The manor is imposing even inside, the long hallways and lofty ceilings making you feel  small. “I couldn’t help but pull a few strings to get you here, you see, your manuscript was fucking fantastic,” he says over his shoulder, and you feel your face heat. 

 Ransom Drysdale likes my writing. With your heart about to beat right out of your chest, you tried to stay calm and graciously accept his praise. “Thank you so much, I… Oh my God.” You stopped walking, pressing the heels of your palms into your face. “Sorry. I just… I’ve always um, been a big fan,” you blew out a breath, lowering your hands to see Ransom chuckling. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you get that a lot.” 

 “Yeah, but it isn’t usually so genuine,” he pats your shoulder reassuringly. “Or cute.” Your cheeks burned all over again as he walked you down the hallway. He wasn’t actually complementing you, he couldn’t be—it wouldn’t be particularly professional, but more than that, you couldn’t compute it, and so your brain simply discarded the information.

 The sunroom was large and warm, your heels clicking softly against the terracotta tiles as he led you over to a rather intimate looking seating arrangement, hardly enough for more than three people, four at a push. You were surprised again, at the informality of the setting, and you perched yourself nervously on the plush seating, your manuscript held tightly in your sweaty hands. There was a small side table with a pitcher of lemonade, and two glasses. 

 Only two. 

 A nervous little laugh worked its way out of your throat as you watched Ransom fill the glasses, making sure a sprig of lavender was firmly seated in each. 

 “Am I that early? Seems like everyone else didn’t get the memo,” you joke, taking a sip. It’s cool and refreshing, and as you go to take a second sip, Ransom shrugs. 

 “I’m pretty… selective, when it comes to my time.” Ransom settles himself on the ornate armchair across from you. “Unfortunately, I had to… loosen my grandfather’s standards a bit, not enough new blood flowing through the office, blah blah blah.” You take another sip, nodding. The light, floral flavor of the lemonade is soothing, though you note that there’s almost a… chalky sort of aftertaste, like it hadn’t been strained enough, or maybe the dirt not properly rinsed from the stalks of the lavender. Nevertheless, it’s not enough to deter you from draining the glass. You chase the last stray drops of lemonade from your full lips with a swipe of his tongue, and he does the same, mirroring the motion as he watches you coolly.

 “I see,” you replied, placing your glass back onto the table with a sharp click. You’d been so excited a few minutes ago, but now as the seconds ticked by it was slowly being replaced with unease. How much of a meet and greet is it really if it’s only one person? “I suppose I was just under the impression—”

 “That there would be more people, yeah.” Ransom shrugs, and your brows slide together. “But I like things a little more…. intimate. And I figure, why waste time with trash when I have the real deal?” It doesn’t sound like he’s talking about books anymore, and you fidget. 

 “I, um, well, in that case, I brought my manuscript—” You go to hand it to him, but your hands aren’t really cooperating, your grip suddenly slack and weak. The loose, unbound papers scatter onto the floor, spreading out like an explosion. You feel dizzy, almost drunk as your vision begins to swim. “What…?” You raise a hand in front of your face, watching as your fingers leave slow trails across your vision. 

 “That’s okay babe. I don’t think we’ll be getting to that today.” He places his own cup down, tapping a knowing finger against the rim of the glass—he hadn’t even taken a single sip. He picks up yours, inspecting it. “Good, you drank it all. It was going to be a real pisser to have to move you fighting.” You make a low, displeased noise in your throat as you try to struggle to your feet, your gaze locked on the large, oak doors on the far side of the room. 

 “Aht-aht, none of that,” he chastises you. grabbing for your arms as he wrestles you easily back down to the lounge seat. “Don’t feel bad, baby, it’s not that you’re not talented,” your head lolls against the back of the couch as Ransom pins your arms behind you, his free hand groping at you through your blouse. He pulls it out of your skirt, ripping it apart and sending buttons flying every which way.

 “I just need a little… outlet. And I’m tired of having to chase pussy—you understand, don’t you?” He sneers, the warm smile replaced with something cold, callous and self serving. Ransom hooks his fingers underneath the hem of your skirt, and begins to shimmy it down your stockinged legs. 

 “I was going to wait until we got down to the basement, but I don’t think I can.” Ransom says, pulling at his belt buckle. “Oh, and I forgot to say,” the fat head of his cock pushes against your entrance as his horrible smirk widens. “Congratulations.”

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[97-liners]

au where wonwoo is a 30 year old professor and you’re his phd student in your late 20’s and…

wonwoo is the most popular professor in the department. not only is he incredibly intelligent, thoughtful and kind, soft-spoken yet confident, and a leader in his field of study, he’s also hot. all the undergrads who attend his lecture will dress up, and girls who go to his office hours put on makeup beforehand. while grading papers for him, you’ve seen the occasional phone number slipped in. and wonwoo, who is a bit awkward and shy, has no idea.

(after you graduate, you bring it up to him. “you’re ridiculously attractive.”

wonwoo flushes and stutters, “what are you talking about?”

“why do you think your office hours were so popular? i had undergrads begging me to get off the waitlist for your class”

“what? i just thought the kids were really interested in organic polymer engineering!”)

the problem is: while your professor might not realize how perfect he is, you certainly do. getting a phd is hard enough without your stupid crush on your stupidly perfect professor getting in the way, so you squish it all down, deep inside you and shove it all in a little box labeled “unrealistic fantasies” along with your nobel prize aspirations and meeting beyoncé. (what you don’t know is that the whole lab can see it, the heart eyes that you make at professor jeon each time he stands at the podium to lecture or gets lost in a particularly tricky problem. and what you also don’t know is that when you’re not looking, wonwoo makes those same heart eyes at you. the two of you are crazy for each other, everybody in the lab can see it. everybody except you.)

time goes by and before you know it, you’ve successfully defended your thesis. the whole lab goes out for drinks and at the end of the night, happy and slightly tipsy, wonwoo pulls you in to a very professional hug and says in that gentle deep voice of his, “well done,” in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

you graduate. you have a job lined up. everything is falling into place. three days after graduation, you stop by the lab to turn in your keys to the building manager and to pick up a few notebooks, when you run into wonwoo sitting in the lab, reading over a manuscript. it’s saturday and the first week of summer break, so the building is empty save for the two of you. and he’s just sitting there, reading, but he’s so attractive and, somehow, cozy-looking, with his sleeves rolled up and his glasses sliding down his nose and dark circles under his eyes, so familiar and you’re hit with a sudden wave of overwhelming fondness.

so you crack the door to the lab open and peek in. “hi, wonwoo. i’m just about to head out.”

“oh,” he looks up in mild surprise. his glasses are askew, and you feel your chest ache with affection. “i was hoping you’d stop by.”

“yeah, well i’m about to get fined by the building manager if i don’t drop off my keys today,” you laugh.

he smiles at you, a small tight-lipped smile. “i know i’ve told you this many times over the past few weeks, but i need to tell you again how wonderful it was having you as my student. i’m very proud of you,” he says, “and i’m excited to see where you go.” then, he adds on in a tone that feels too tender and soft, “i’ll miss having you around in the lab, y/n.”

it make your breath catch in your throat. just one of hundreds of moments of half-whispered maybes, edging on the potential of something more. maybe it’s time to put that behind you, you muse to yourself. after all, he’s no longer your mentor, and you’re no longer his favorite grad student. “thank you,” you tell him. “i’ll miss you too.” more than you’ll know.

you turn to leave once and for all, but then wonwoo stops you when he calls out your name. “y/n, wait—“

you turn to look at wonwoo, who has his head raised, wearing a hopefully expression on his face. he frowns for half a moment, lips thinning into an expression you recognize as his thinking face, and then he asks, almost tentatively, “would you want to go out to dinner with me some time?”

you blink. wonwoo is flushing now. you can see his ears flashing pink. “dinner? just us?”

wonwoo nods. “yes, since you’re no longer my student now…”

“professor jeon,” you laugh, “are you asking me out on a date? because if you are, the answer is yes.”

wonwoo smiles at you, a wider grin now. “you know, you don’t have to call me professor anymore, dr. l/n.”

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Martyrs and Kings - Chapter 14

The Bridges We Burn

Rating: Mature/18+/Minors DNI

Pairing: Kix x archivist/historian OFC

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: angst; mature language; SMUT; minimal prep; PIV; biting; cum eating

Start here | Previous chapter | Epilogue | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

Every window of Maree’s flat was thrown open to let in the early morning breeze. It was midsummer, and before many hours passed, Republic City would be sweltering, but for now the air was still cool and crisp. The curtains billowed gently into the room, distracting Maree as she packed up the last few crates of her belongings. She could smell the ocean: fresh and salty today, with no trace of the stench that had plagued the city a few weeks earlier. She stood for a moment, breathing in the familiar scent as she gazed around the empty room. She swallowed down the tightness in her throat.

This place had been her home for over a decade. She’d bought the flat a year after she was hired at the Archive, and she had made so many memories inside these walls. In this flat, she’d hosted dinner parties, birthday parties, engagement parties, holiday parties, going-away parties. She’d had sleepovers with Valsi when they had caroused a little too enthusiastically. She and her friends had watched every Equinox Day sunsail race from her balcony for the past twelve years. She had scrubbed the stain out of the carpet from the time when Tane had sloshed his wine glass while arguing with a friend over whether it would be easier to fight one astromech-sized mouse droid or ten mouse-droid-sized astromechs. She’d blasted glimmik music and danced triumphantly through every room in the flat the day her first book manuscript was accepted. 

It was the first home where she’d been able to decorate exactly how she wanted, without having to negotiate with roommates or beg permission from a landlord. She had painted the walls in her favorite colors, and painted them again when she decided the original effect was too busy. 

And now those walls were bare, stripped of all her paintings and mirrors, without even nails left as placeholders for the missing decor. The holes had been patched and repainted, the artwork sold or packed away and shipped to her mothers’ home for storage and safekeeping until Maree found another place to call home. If she ever did.

The flat belonged to someone else now. A stranger. Maree had only until the end of the day to finish removing her belongings and hand over the security codes to her realtor. The buyer would take possession the next day, and then it would be their turn to make all of the memories and choices and mistakes that were inevitable in the process of turning a flat into a home.

Only a few items remained to be packed. Maree reached for one blindly, and her heart gave a little lurch as she recognized the datapad Kix had given her. She wrapped it carefully in a scarf and tucked it into the crate. After that, there were just some holoframes and other delicate items left, and then she sealed the crate and stacked it with the rest of the items to be picked up by the moving company. They were due to arrive any minute, and once they were gone, Maree would take a taxi to Valsi’s home, where she would spend her last night on Hosnian Prime before catching a shuttle to Adelphi the next day.

The door chimed, startling her. The movers, she realized, and went to open the door. But it was not the movers.

Kix’s hair was a little longer, his beard a little fuller. He looked a little thinner, and the shadows under his eyes were etched a little deeper, but his eyes were just as piercing as she remembered as the morning sun glinted in their honeyed depths. 

She stared at him wordlessly for a moment, and then stood back to admit him. He stepped over the threshold and curiously surveyed the empty room.

“I’d offer you a seat, but I already sold all the furniture,” Maree said.

“You’re really leaving, then.” His voice was gruff.

“Yep,” she said. “Quit my job and torched the bridge in a spectacular fashion. How did you hear that I’d left the Archive?”

“I, er, called your office,” he said. “To apologize for—well, everything. I tried your comm channel, but it didn’t go through.”

“It was provided by the Library,” she said. “I had to get a new channel when I left.”

Kix nodded. “Well, Teejay told me you were no longer with the Library.” He looked uncomfortable. “The droid had a few choice words for me. It seems to hold me personally responsible for your leaving.”

Maree laughed shortly. “Sounds about right. Teejay thrives on routine and hates change. A new boss is going to be a big adjustment. All that frustration has to go somewhere; I guess you were just a convenient target.”

“I’m used to droids aiming at me,” Kix said.

“Is that clone humor?” Maree asked with a tiny smile.

“Maybe,” he replied. “What will you do now?” 

She shrugged. “I’ll figure it out. I doubt I’ll be coming back to Hosnian Prime. There’s nothing for me here. I’ll need to buy a ship at some point. Hopefully I got enough from selling the flat to cover the cost.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t already have one,” he said.

“I never traveled enough to make it worth the docking fees,” she said.

“Will you miss it here?” he asked.

“I’ll miss Valsi. And the spiced biscuits,” she added. “It’s going to take me a while to find anything to replace them in the Outer Rim.”

“You should stock up before you leave,” he said.

“I had a better idea,” she said. “I got the bakery to give me the recipe. Now all I have to do is learn how to bake.”

“Resourceful,” he said.

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Kix stared around the empty flat, looking anywhere except Maree’s eyes.

“Why are you here, Kix?” she asked at last.

“I came because—” his voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “Because Quiggold told me what the captain tried to do. I felt like I owed you an apology. And… an explanation. ”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she said. “I was just doing my job.”

“And what about the rest?” he asked. 

“You don’t need to worry about that,” she replied. “I was never under any delusion that I was anything more than a convenient hookup. I’m a big girl. I know how the galaxy works.”

“You’re wrong,” he said bluntly. 

Maree’s eyes widened. “I am?”

“Yes. I’ve been drowning for the past year, and when I met you, my feet touched solid ground.”

Her breath caught. “Kix—”

“Your favorite color is green,” he said.

She blinked. “What?”

“Not just any green. It’s a vibrant, sap green. The color of the moss that grows on river rocks in the springtime. The color of leaves, just starting to open after the long winter.”

“How did you know that?” she asked.

“Every painting in your office and your home had a touch of that color. Your napkins, your pillows, your favorite mug. You never wear it, though. Why is that?” he asked.

“It doesn’t suit me,” she said. “But I still love it.”

She didn’t know what else to say, or why he was here, or what he expected from her, and an awkward silence descended once again as she waited for him to speak. After a long pause, he took a deep breath.

“Maree, I’m nobody,” he said. “Even when I was a soldier, I had nothing except my honor. Now I’m a pirate, and I don’t even have that.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Maree protested. “It’s not true. It’s not even close to true!”

“Please, just listen,” he begged, and she fell silent. “I didn’t think you would want to leave everything you’ve built to go slum it on a pirate ship. But then Reveth told me what you said. About how you didn’t want to take the choice away from me. And I realized that’s exactly what I did to you when I left without telling you how I feel about you. And when I heard you’d left the Archive, I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.”

“Kix, I—”

“I know I don’t have much to offer,” he said hurriedly. “Nothing that could compete with all this. But if you come with me, I swear to you, I will spend the rest of my life doing everything in my power to make sure you don't regret it.”

“Oh, love, I would never—”

“I can give you firsthand accounts of the Clone Wars. I can show you Separatist bases that haven’t been touched since the war ended. You could still do your research. You wouldn’t have to give up your dream, I could help you make it come true, I swear—”

“Kix!” she interrupted sternly. “Stop. Talking.”

He stammered to a halt, his eyes wide, as Maree stood on her tiptoes to grab his shoulders and pull him down into a kiss. His hands rested for a moment on her hips, and then with a groan, he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her tightly against him. He kissed her as if his life depended on it. When at last they broke apart, he gazed into her eyes and stroked her face, holding her close, cradling her body as if she were some delicate, precious thing that he could not bear to part with.

“Does this mean you’ll consider it?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “It means I’ve already decided.”

“You have?” he asked, and his eyes lit with hope.

“Yes,” she said, pulling him down for another kiss. “My mother won’t be delighted to hear I’ve taken up with a pirate, but she’s retired from the Ranger Corps now, so she’s at least somewhat less likely to come gunning for us.”

“How does she feel about clones?” he asked.

“She’ll love you. Just like I do.”

All his breath left in a rush, and he stared at her. “Say that again.”

“Baba probably won’t hunt us down—”

“Don’t tease me,” he said, and kissed her. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” she said. “And I meant what I said. I love you, Kix.”

“I think I loved you from the moment I saw you,” he confessed. “I never could have hoped you would feel the same way.”

“My love,” she murmured, kissing his forehead. “My sweet, sweet boy.” She kissed down his temple, to his cheek, and finally his lips. “Of course I do.”

Kix slid his hands up Maree’s back, savoring the way her body molded against him beneath the smooth fabric of her dress. He could scarcely believe that this was real, that she was actually here with him, her lips pressed against his, her tongue moving deliciously in his mouth, her sighs of pleasure warm against his skin. It was a dream, or a fantasy—it must be. 

He clutched her tightly to himself, afraid that if he loosened his hold, she would slip away and disappear. But her hands felt solid and real as they roamed over his arms and shoulders, and nothing he could ever imagine could feel as incredible as the way she tangled her fingers in his hair. He broke away from her lips and kissed his way down her throat, slipping his hand around to cup her breast. 

She whimpered as his teeth scraped over a particularly sensitive spot, but as he reached for the hem of her skirt, she gasped, “Wait!”

He stilled immediately, pulling back so he could see her face. Her hair was mussed, her lips were swollen, and her eyes were hazy with desire, and it took every shred of self-control he possessed not to pull her back into his arms and devour her.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The movers!” she said.

“Movers?” he asked blankly.

“They’ll be here any minute, and I am NOT getting interrupted again, Kix, I swear to gods, every time we do this, somebody kriffing walks in on us, and—”

He kissed her, and whatever she was planning to add to that sentence disappeared into a wanton moan. He gripped her hips and pulled her against him, and when she rolled her pelvis against his achingly hard cock, he nearly came in his pants.

“On second thought, we can lock the door,” she said, coming up for air.

“Let’s do that,” he agreed.

She pulled away from his embrace and hurried to the door, slapping the lock button on the control panel. Kix followed close behind, and when she turned to face him, he pinned her against the door and kissed her until she was breathless and wild and making the sweetest karking sounds he’d ever heard. She fumbled at his belt, and he felt the waistband loosen, and then she shoved her hand down the front of his pants, not even bothering to push them down. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned as her nimble little fingers wrapped around his cock. “Fuck yes, oh kark, I missed you so kriffing much.”

“I missed you,” she breathed, and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

Kix’s heart shattered. He cupped her face in his hands and brushed away the tears, then pressed his lips to her face, scattering kisses everywhere he could reach until he washed away every trace of hurt and sadness in her eyes. 

“Kix?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“This is nice, but if you aren’t inside me in the next ten seconds, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said dutifully, yanking up the hem of her skirt and tugging the thin lace of her underwear aside. The fabric was soaked through, and he hissed in a deep breath when he dragged his fingers across her slippery, swollen clit.

She pushed down the waistband of his briefs just far enough to free his cock and line him up with her entrance. He hooked a hand behind her thigh and lifted it to wrap around his waist, and then he pushed into her. Holy fuck, she was tight. He hadn’t prepped her, and his cock only went in partway. He paused and started to withdraw.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes!” she cried. “God damn it, Kix, fuck me now!”

His control snapped, and he bit down savagely on her neck as he thrust into her two more times, and then he was fully inside. A ragged, animalistic groan ripped from her throat, and she levered herself against him, wrapping her other leg around him and hooking her feet behind his back as he pounded her into the door. He gripped her ass, supporting her weight as he drove into her again and again. Each thrust of his cock punched the air from her lungs until she was a gasping, sobbing wreck, unable to form words.

His heart raced, his legs began to spasm, and he shifted, bringing a hand around to press on her clit and fucking into her with short, rapid strokes. She tightened around him until he thought he was going to pass out, and then she shattered with a scream. The violence of her orgasm nearly pushed his cock out of her pussy, but he rammed into her, fucking her through it, and within seconds, his vision went blank as pleasure exploded through his body, and he came hard, jetting hot spurts of cum into her cunt.

He buried his face against her neck and breathed in her scent as he gasped for air. Slowly, his consciousness returned, and he eased her legs down from his waist. She shuddered against him, and he wrapped his arms around her until her breathing stabilized. Kark, he’d missed the scent of her hair. He inhaled deeply and kissed her head. Then he kissed her again. And again and again, traveling down her body until he knelt before her.

His cum had started to drip down her thighs, and he lifted her skirt carefully, making sure to keep the fabric away from his mess. He leaned forward and stroked his tongue gently across her skin, licking her clean, and then he dipped into her, keeping his tongue soft and his touches light to avoid overstimulating her. She threaded her fingers through his hair and cupped his head, breathing quiet, passionate sighs. When he finished, he carefully put her back together, arranging her skirts perfectly and brushing away the worst of the wrinkles.

She sank to her knees next to him, and he sat down against the wall and pulled her onto his lap. He stroked her hair softly, guiding her head to rest against his shoulder. 

“Your floor is really hard,” he said.

“Yeah. Next time, we should fuck somewhere with furniture.”

“So high maintenance,” he teased.

“Sadly true,” she sighed. “I require a bed. Maybe even a chair.”

“Ridiculous,” he said. “Next you’ll be telling me you want a sofa.”

“Regretting your choice so soon?” she asked.

He huffed a laugh against her hair. “Never.”

---

Epilogue

Tagging:

@secondaryrealm @blueink-bluesoul @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @mandos-mind-trick @littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu

[expirisims]

Thanks @anamoon63 for the tag! 🤗🩷

💓Favorite Three Ships

* Connor and Saffron by @treason-and-plot

* Kneel and Melody from @miss-may-i Scratch the Surface story

* I know they're already in a relationship that death itself couldn't stop, but: Torgo and Poppy by @simspaghetti

🎧Last Song

This Song's Gonna Get Stuck Inside Your Head-- from Lego movie 2

🎬Last Movie

"Pete's Dragon" the 1977 version

📖 Currently Reading

At the moment no books, but I have "City of God" by E.L. Doctorow, "Nobody's Fool" by Richard Russo, " And the Mountains Echoed" by Khaled Hosseini, and a mystery novel by a local author all sitting on my nightstand waiting for me to decide which to read next.

🌶️ Craving

Always Buffalo Wings and a soda

👯‍♀️Relationship status

Married

🪷Last thing I googled

Why does my kinetic sand say to was hands after use?

💫Current Obsession

Too many to name at the moment, I really get sucked down rabbit holes too easily 😂.

I guess not so much an obsession as a self conscious stressor, but getting my manuscript as perfect as possible and overcoming my self conscious nature to query. (Is there a nail biting emoji? Because there should be!)

Tagging

Anyone who wants to play!

[fyonahmacnally]

Supercorptober 2023

Day 6 & 7: Write/Love

The next few days are peaceful. Lena spends the mornings in the loft sifting through as many of the books as she can, learning about the Walsh heritage. She makes the conscious choice to venture into the other books with information about magic at a later time. Learning more about her family and where she comes from is filling a space inside her that she didn’t realize was empty and yearning. Besides, she has a feeling that the desk contains some things she needs to know and understand before attempting magic, but there is a resistance deep down that she isn’t willing to push past just yet.

Kara spends her mornings on the patio soaking in the sun, playing with Cash and Money, and writing. At first, the writing is about her current thoughts and emotions. Then, it morphs into ideas for stories and editorials for CatCo. From there, she starts writing her own stories. Making up tales and inventing new worlds. Writing about two best friends with magical abilities navigating their childhood and teenage years together. By the time she finishes writing each morning, she feels freer than she has in ages. It makes her realize that she wants more from her future than just CatCo and Supergirl. She’s not quite sure what that looks like. At least not yet.

At noon, they meet in the kitchen to make their lunch together. It’s become such a routine now, after a little over a week in the cottage, that they move seamlessly around one another. Each movement anticipated by the other, almost like a dance. They periodically pause to smile or exchange brief kisses until their meals are complete. Most days, they sit on the patio and eat while Cash and Money bask in the warmth of the rays of the sun lying next to them. It’s such a simple and serene existence unlike anything either of them have ever known.

Their afternoons are spent exploring the area around them or sitting with Liam in their den talking about Elizabeth and what she was like. Lena learns so much about her mother. What she liked to do growing up, what kind of shenanigans all the Walsh kids got up to, and pranks they pulled on each other. She even gets to see pictures of her mother when she was younger. Their resemblance to one another is startling. If Lena didn’t know any better, she would think the pictures Liam is showing her are from her own childhood. The days spent listening to Liam are her favorites. It’s in those moments that she feels closest to her mother. Almost like she’s in the room with them. 

The evenings are reserved for the two of them. They make dinner together, dancing around each other much like they do with lunch. Sometimes, they share their meal sitting next to each other at the island counter. Other times, they gather around the coffee table in front of the fire and talk about their mornings or their childhoods or any other topic that comes up. These moments feel like they are forging a path to an inevitable future together. One they’ve both been longing for across every year of their friendship. A future written in some long lost manuscript and scribed into the stars, defying every force that dares stand between them.

On a rainy Thursday afternoon, just after Liam’s departure, they sit quietly lingering in each other’s space snuggled up on the couch in front of the fire. Neither of them feel the need to fill the silence. Kara’s hand is idly drawing nonsensical patterns along Lena’s side as her head rests on the blonde’s shoulder, her own hand tracing the seam on the soft, worn joggers covering Kara’s thigh.

The moment is broken by Lena’s soft whisper. “As a kid, I never dreamed about falling in love. It wasn’t something that made sense to me. The only time I’d known love was with my mother.” She scoffs quietly, not wanting to interrupt the warm cocoon surrounding them. “The Luthor Manor certainly never had an abundance of it, if any at all. That house, the environment I was forced into was cold and lonely. All those years, it was never romantic love that I dreamed about.”

Kara places a soft kiss to the crown of inky raven locks, continuing her ministrations along the soft material resting against her girlfriend’s skin. “It hurts my heart to think of a little Lena experiencing that kind of neglect and heartache. No one deserves to be treated that way. Especially not you.” Another kiss and a long sigh before she quietly asks, “What would you dream of if not of falling in love or romance?”

A dainty shoulder rises and drops in a barely there movement. Lena takes a deep breath and seems to debate her next words. “Acceptance. Friendship. Safety. Even when I was a scared six year old in that monster of a house, I never felt accepted. Lillian never made me feel safe.” She shakes her head slightly, remembering the days before she left for boarding school. “Even when I thought Lex was my only friend in that sterile place, safety was never within my reach.”

“Rao, Lena. It makes sense that you don’t trust anyone easily or let your guard down without a fight. I can’t imagine living like that, especially at such a young age.” Kara sighs, it makes her realize how much worse her betrayal was than she imagined. “The more I learn about you and your past, the more I realize how badly I have hurt you. It’s something I think about every day and will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for.”

She fights the tears that are stinging her eyes and tightens her arm around the CEO’s frame. The guilt that still eats at her insides, the pain and heartbreak she has brought to the woman in her arms is suffocating at times. She often wonders if there is anything she can ever do to make amends for her actions, the betrayal. It’s something she needs to spend more time thinking through and certainly something she plans to talk to her girlfriend about.

“You know, love is a peculiar thing. It’s not really something you choose. At least not at first. That alone makes it terrifying.” Lena says, a tiny hint of a smile in her words. “I know you still feel guilty about what happened, Kara. I know because I feel it too. We both made choices we aren’t proud of. If you think about it, our actions and behaviors make sense given our past. I grew up in a world of cold indifference, manipulation, and betrayal. You grew up in a world that forced you to blend in, hide who you are, and learn to speak in half-truths.”

The dark haired woman leans back, raising her eyes to settle on the pools of ocean blue staring affectionately at her. An unbridled smile stretches across her face. A feeling of pure warmth radiates through her body, seeps into her bones, and settles squarely in her heart. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine this moment. Wish for it? Without a doubt. Hope for it? Sure. Think it would ever be real? Not in a million years. Now that she’s here though, it will have to be pried from her cold, dead hands. 

Kara leans forward to place a soft kiss on Lena’s forehead. They settle back into their positions. “Love is a peculiar thing. It took me a long time to even understand the way love is approached on Earth. It was so different on Krypton.” A long breath out and a shaky inhale as her mind is instantly transported back to her last moments on her home planet. “I think love is rooted in the best of all beings. At least at its core, but I think it also has to be rooted in darkness too. As cliche as it sounds, light and darkness cannot exist without each other. What is that saying? ‘It is in true darkness that we grow to appreciate the light’ or something like that. I think it’s the same for love. It cannot exist without pain and loss.”

They both chuckle at the cliche before Kara continues.

“I do still feel guilty. I think I probably always will to some degree. Forgiveness for the way I treated you and how much I hurt you is still a work in progress. I know you still harbor a lot of guilt too. We’ve both forgiven each other and are working through the remnants of it all, but I think we need to make sure we also focus on forgiving ourselves.” Strong arms gently squeeze Lena in a reassuring  hug. “Our past, our childhood trauma might have put us on the path to what happened, but we have a say in how we move forward. I truly believe we can get through anything together.”

“El Mayarah.” Lena grins and winks at the blonde.

“El Mayarah.” Kara beams back. “Do you ever wonder what could have happened if we had confessed our feelings sooner?”

Lena tilts her head. “Mmm, I used to. I spent a lot of time thinking about it when you were in the Phantom Zone. In a lot of ways, I’m glad things happened the way they have. Selfishly, sure I wish it would have been different. We could have been much further along in our relationship.” She shifts again so their eyes are locked. “Truthfully, I don’t think it would have worked out if it had happened any sooner. Our friendship has been the foundation for where we are now. Without that solid footing, I would have run from it at the first sign of hardship.”

“It makes sense. One of the reasons I refused to let myself acknowledge how I felt about you, even to myself, is I hadn’t told you about Supergirl. Allowing myself to love you with that kind of secret between us wouldn’t have been fair, especially to you.” She huffs in frustration at herself. “After I tried so many different options for telling you and seeing the resulting timelines, I knew facing the consequences was the only way through things. Looking back, it makes sense that Alex commented on changing the timeline for a friendship.” She chuckles before tilting her head back on the cushion.

Lena is frozen in place. Her brain is incessantly replaying what her girlfriend has just said. Over and over. Analyzing. Dissecting. Computing. Not a single thing has resulted from these computations. ‘Seeing the resulting timelines’ is playing on a loop in her head. Is that really what Kara just said? She thinks. There’s no way she misheard it, she replayed it in her head no less than a dozen times. She pushes herself away from the rambling blonde to sit up and ask the question burning in her mind.

“H-Hang on a second.” She stammers, still unsure that she understands what was just said. “I need you to back up and explain some things to me. “What is this about different options, changing timelines, and consequences? You’ve never mentioned anything about that before. When did this happen and how? Why?” She watches as cerulean eyes go wide.

“Um, well, uh…see, there was this fifth dimensional imp named Mr. Mxyzptlk, right? He’s this shorter guy with weird brown hair.” Kara’s panicked eyes scan across Lena’s confused features. “Well, after our…friendship breakup? Um, he came to see me. He owes me because of the time he tried to force me to marry him.” She shakes her head when she thinks back to that fiasco and grimaces when she sees the unimpressed look on Lena’s face. 

“Anyway, that’s a story for another time. He offered me a chance to go back to any point in our past to tell you that I was Supergirl. To change the timeline, to make it ‘right’ or fix it.” Kara glances down to her hands, now fidgeting in her lap. “I tried so many different times in our friendship…the beginning, several points in the middle, so many times. I even tried to see if you would be better off having never met me. That ended badly. In fact, all of them ended badly. One or both of us died each time. Sometimes, all of the people I love were dead. In the end, leaving things the way they are was the only choice. The right one.”

Lena is stunned. She’s unsure what to say. The fact that she means enough to Kara to risk changing the timeline is a lot to take in. Did Kara realize what Alex was saying at the time? Changing the timeline for a friendship wasn’t something that was ‘normal’ unless there was more to it. She’s dragged out of her internal monologue when Kara’s trembling hand rests on hers. Apparently she was subconsciously pulling on her fingers, a nervous habit Lillian always tried to break her from.

She clears her throat and lifts her head back up to see nervous, watery blue gazing back at her. “Y-You tried to alter our timeline? I, hmm, I don’t know what to say. I already knew at that point how I felt about you, but was so hurt and angry at you. Your actions broke me. Truly.” Her eyes drop back down to where Kara’s are still sitting on top of hers. “Why would you try to change our timeline, Kara? By then, you already considered me a villain. Why waste your time?”

The blonde releases a noise from her throat that sounds like a cross between a muffled sob and a strained, wet laugh. “That was actually the night I called you a villain. Something I will always regret.” A single tear makes its way down her cheek as she dejectedly wipes it away. “I think even I have always underestimated how much you mean to me. Being willing to do anything to have you back in my life, or at least have you happy and alive, was the most important thing to me that night. At the end of it all, it was absolutely crystal clear that the only way to make sure you were safe, was to deal with the consequences of my actions, even if it meant you hated me.”

“Well, I have so many questions about all of this, but those can be saved for later.” She leans forward, pressing their lips together before snuggling back into her place on Kara’s shoulder. “As much as I wanted to hate you, I never could. I think that is part of what drove me in my determination to continue with Non Nocere. I desperately wanted to erase the hurt in my chest. A hurt I felt could somehow be erased if I hated you and could prevent anyone else from experiencing the pain I was going through. Looking back, it was naive and unrealistic, but at the time, it was all I could focus on.” She scoffs at her misguided intentions.

“I’ve never been good at processing and handling my emotions. Don’t get me wrong, I have always had a lot of feelings, but growing up as a Luthor, feelings and emotions were viewed as a weakness. Instead of learning how to deal with things in a healthy way, I was raised around people that would exploit any emotion I dared express.” She chuckles, rolling her eyes as she thinks about how foolish and short-sighted she has been in her past. “The way I reacted to your betrayal was extreme. It was extreme because it was the first time that I had let someone see me, the real me, and it blew up in my face. My heart was shattered in a million pieces. In response, I acted like a Luthor and sought revenge. I wanted you to hurt as badly as I did.”

They sit in a heavy silence for a full minute. Both of them comb through the details of their journey, nursing the still barely scarred wounds of loss, betrayal, and a broken heart. 

Kara releases a long, shaky exhale, adjusting herself on the couch and pulling Lena closer. “See, this is where I wish we had at least spoken about things because I was going through the same things. Granted some of it was my own doing, but I was heartbroken and feeling betrayed too. You were the only one to ever see me as Kara. Just Kara. Everyone else treats me differently after they know about Supergirl. Nothing is ever the same anymore.” She blows out a frustrated raspberry, vibrating Lena’s skin. “I didn’t want to lose that with you. I was terrified that when I told you, I would. Unfortunately, I lost you anyway.”

Lena leans up and presses her lips against the warm skin of Kara’s neck. “I think we not only lost each other, but ourselves too. Both of us have endured a lot of pain, sorrow, and loss in our lives. Neither one of us have ever really been shown a healthy way to deal with that.” She sighs, thinking about how much Kelly made her realize she needed to go back to therapy. “While you were in the Phantom Zone, I spent a lot of time with Kelly. She helped me understand why I react to certain things the way I do and how I can be better. One of the first things she recommended was therapy. I’ve had a few appointments already and made arrangements for some phone sessions while we are here.”

“You might be onto something. It wasn’t until I met you and actually started opening up to you that I realized I’ve never been allowed to be myself with anyone. Even Alex to a degree. It was nice that you liked spending time with me, with Kara, and didn’t care what I could do, where I worked, none of that. Just me. That’s all that mattered.” Another tear runs down a tan, freckled cheek. It’s hastily wiped away before she tries to clear the emotion from her throat and continues. “If I’m honest with myself, it’s the main reason I kept chickening out of telling you about Supergril. It’s true that I still wanted to protect you, but it wasn’t the main reason, the one that kept me from saying it.”

She runs her hand up and down Lena’s back. “I’m proud of you, by the way. I know going to therapy isn’t something that you did easily or took lightly. It’s a big step and you should be proud of yourself.” She smiles and lifts the blanket, shifting them both to turn so her back is against the arm, Lena resting softly on top of her. “Alex has been pushing me to see someone too. It’s just hard. The NDA’s that would need to be in place and the effort of finding a therapist that understands what it’s like to be an alien in a human world. It sounds exhausting.” She sighs, nuzzling her nose into the silky raven locks under her nose, the scent of lavender, cedarwood, and something intrinsically Lena gracing her senses. 

Lena pauses for a moment. She hadn’t thought about the logistics of locating a therapist for Kara. It would be most beneficial if the therapist is an alien themselves. Plus, the NDA’s are without question a necessity. She certainly understands the need for NDA’s given her wealth and surname. It’s at that moment she realizes Kara can see the same therapist she does, or at least someone in the same practice. Her therapist is an alien and the practice she runs caters to aliens and clientele who prefer to remain out of the media spotlight.

“Darling, my therapist is an alien and happily signed the NDA’s necessary for me to see them. I can ask them if they would be willing to see you as well or recommend someone else in their practice.” Lena says, with a satisfied smile on her face at being able to offer a solution to her girlfriend. “No pressure, of course, but if you want to explore it, the option is there. I can ask them for more information at our next appointment.” 

“I think that is an acceptable offer, Miss Luthor. I will take any information and consider it.” She grins and tries to stealthily run her hand down her girlfriend’s side to the one ticklish spot she knows. “Now, why don’t we do something a bit more fun? As much as I enjoy our conversations, I could use a little break. Rehashing our falling out feels like a stab in the heart.” She times the end of her sentence with a strategic poke into Lena’s ribs followed by a surprised yelp as the smaller woman launches herself from Kara’s arms.

“Really, Kara?!” Lena glares at her, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. “Just for that, I’m going to start dinner without you. No more cuddles.” She bites her lip and turns with faux irritation to make her way into the kitchen. She can hear Kara sputtering behind her and barely makes it into the kitchen before warm, strong arms are wrapped around her waist. 

“Pleeeease…don’t revoke my cuddle privileges! That’s cruel.” Kara whines into the skin at the back of Lena’s neck. “I’ll help with dinner. Then we can watch a movie or get back to cuddling in front of the fire.” The patented Danvers pout peeks around the side of Lena’s head.

Lena sighs in resignation, knowing she lost this battle. “There really isn’t anything you can help with as far as dinner is concerned, but you can keep me company.” She points at one of the stools at the island and heads toward the pantry to gather her ingredients. “Why don’t you grab one of your notebooks and do some writing or sketching? You said that’s been helping you work through some residual dreams from the Phantom Zone, right?”

The superhero nods and heads toward the journal she’s been keeping next to the bed. She smiles when she thinks about how she hasn’t ever slept in the room that was originally designated as hers when they arrived. It makes her happy that she gets to share a bed with the woman she loves. 

After grabbing the book, she heads back toward the kitchen, but stops in her tracks when she sees Lena swaying to the classical music softly playing in the background. The last rays of the sun, partially obscured by the cloudy sky, cast an ethereal glow onto pale skin and dark locks giving her a glowing aura of orange and pink hues. The sight steals her breath and a rush of all-encompassing love engulfs her body.  

When Lena turns and smiles, her signature eyebrow raise in place, she knows her world is forever changed and for the first time in her life, she cannot wait for the future. In that moment, she is certain that their paths were meant to entwine. There’s no doubt in her entire being that theirs is a fate written amongst the stars and their love is the eternal kind, a bond that cannot be broken. 

[some-little-infamy]

My favorite lyrics from each song off The Tortured Poets Department:

Fortnight (ft. Post Malone): "I was a functioning alcoholic until nobody noticed my new aesthetic" The Tortured Poets Department: "At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger / And Put it on the one people put wedding rings on / And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding"

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys: "I'm Queen of sand castles he destroys"

Down Bad: "Everything comes out teenage petulance/ Fuck it, if I can't have him / I might just die it'll make no difference" So Long, London: "And you say I abandoned the ship / But I was going down with it / My white-knuckle dying grip"

But Daddy I Love Him: "I'll tell you something about my good name / it's mine alone to disgrace"

Fresh Out The Slammer: "Swirled you into all of my poems / Now we're at the starting line"

Florida!!! (ft. Florence & the Machine): "Yes, I'm haunted, but I'm feeling just fine / All of my girls got their lace and their crimes"

Guilty as Sin?: "Throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks."

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me: "I was tame, I was gentle, 'till the circus life made me mean / Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth" and "You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me" (I CAN'T PICK THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONG I'M SORRY)

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can): "Your good lord doesn't need to lift a finger / I can fix him, no really, I can"

loml: "Still alive, killing time at the cemetery / Never quite buried"

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart: "I cry a lot, but I am so productive, it's an art!"

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived: "I would've died for your sins, now I just died inside"

The Alchemy: "We've been on a winning streak / He jokes that it's heroin, but this time with an 'E'"

Clara Bow: "I'm not trying to exaggerate / but I think I might die if I made it"

The Black Dog: "And you jump up, but she's too young to know this song / That was intertwined in the magic fabric of our dreaming"

imgonnagetyouback: "Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you"

The Albatross: "So I crossed my thoughtless heart / spread my wings like a parachute / I'm the albatross / I swept in at the rescue"

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus: "If you wanna break my cold, cold heart / Just say 'I loved you the way that you were' "

How Did It End?: " The deflation of our dreaming / Leaving me bereft and reeling / My Beloved Ghost and me / sitting in a tree / D-Y-I-N-G" So High School: "And in a blink of a crinkling eye / I'm sinking, our fingers entwined / Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights"

I Hate It Here: "I'll save all my romanticism for my inner life, and I'll get lost on purpose" thanK you aIMee: "But when I count the scars, there's a moment of truth / That there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you"

I Look in People's Windows: "Does it feel alright to not know me? / I'm addicted to the 'if only' "

The Prophecy: "Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen"

Cassandra: "When it's 'burn the bitch', they're shrieking / When the truth comes out, it's quiet"

Peter: " 'Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned"

The Bolter: "Splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless / Excellent fun 'til you get to know her"

Robin: "You have no room in your dreams for regrets"

The Manuscript: "The professor said to write what you know / looking backwards might be the only way to move forward"

[sinceyesterday]

TTPD thoughts (spoilers!)

Fortnight (feat. Post Malone) - My New aesthetic??? - This is so depressing - I wanna kill her??? - I love you, it's ruining my life!!! - This song is absolutely STUNNING - Comment on my sweater??? - My husband is cheating??? - Love Post on the vocals - Move to Florida??? The Tortured Poets Department - Typewriter at my apartment - Omg... - I'm literally shaking - No-fucking-body??? - Golden retriever??? - Kill yourself??? - Nooooooo - The closest I've come.. - Who else decodes you??? My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys - The beat omg - Plastic smile??? - This is exactly the vibe I wanted! - litany? (what does that mean?) - Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me? TAYLOR - Kens!!! - but I'm not... Down Bad - Fuck it if I can't have him - Naked and alone!!! - TAYLOR IT WOULD MAKE A DIFFERENCE!!! - Say that it's- - Fuck you if I can't have us??? - Lost my twin, oh Taylor... So Long, London - I'm gonna cry - Lana vibe - Oh, the tragedy - CPR??? - The altar??? (false god...) - But I'm not the one, aww But Daddy I Love Him - Kinda upbeat lol - Country vibes!!! - I'm having his baby??? - Bitching & moaning?? Huh? - Me & my wild boy, lover vibes! - Lovers... - But fuck 'em it's over??? Fresh Out The Slammer - LOVE this sound! - Imaginary rings??? - Not many thoughts, just stunned! Florida!!! (feat. Florence & The Machine) - Weed or little babies? - Florida!!! - Never heard Florence & The Machine but they/she eats! - Gives me no body , no crime vibes - Fuck me up, Florida??? - I actually LOVE this song! Guilty as Sin? - Automatically 10/10 - Am I allowed to cry!!! - lowercase inside a vault??? - Oh, so sensual!!! - False God pt.2!!! - So far, prob my fav! Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me? - You don't get ot tell me about "sad"!!! - REP VIBES - YOU SHOULD BE??? Girl I am - I am GAGGED - Obsessed!!! - The low beats? - Is she talking abt the cornilia street house? - Narcotics in your songs??? - Oh dang, she wrote this alone... I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - Not the jokes - The big booms are so cool! - Good boy??? - Whoa maybe I can't, lol loml - White Horse vibes - You took me to hell too?? - Wait, is this my fave? - Mr. Steal Your Girl? - I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all! I Can Do It With A Broken Heart - I can handle with my shit - Lights, camera, bitch smile! - About the Eras Tour def - Not the depressing lyrics but happy beat lol, I love her - In stilettos for miles - As the crowd was chanting more! - Aww, I hope she doesn't think of us like this... - Cause I'm miserable and nobody even knows! - She said "try and come for my job" bitch!The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - Who the fuck was that guy? - Now you know what it feels like - The breath... :((( - The yelling into the mic!!! - Were you a spy??? - Sexy??? - You crashed my party??? - ATE HIM UP QUEEN! The Alchemy - Was she actually in a hospital??? I'm scared - Hey you - LOVE this too!!! - Gonna rank this right after btw! Clara Bow - (I'm scared) - Rock vibes [in the beginning] - You look like Clara Bow in this light - Crowd goes wild goes wild at her fingertips, half moonshine full eclipse - Girlish glow? - You look like Taylor Swift in this light, we're loving it - This is so sad... [Will post thoughts once the vinyl and cd are received] The Manuscript The Bolter {I'll try to find videos on YouTube...} The Albatross The Black Dog