I got an absolutely stellar constructive comment on The Billionaire’s Price, but it looks like the commenter removed it!
I desperately wanted to address it, so I guess I’m just gonna put the call out and say that if it was one of you, drop me a message, I’d love to discuss it.
Additionally, I’m going to make some changes to Chapter 1 to reflect the areas of ambiguity pointed out by this comment. This is definitely one of those circumstances where I would have benefited from a more intensive beta process.
I just remembered I posted a Dead Poets Society fic on AO3 and if you’ve seen the movie you should read it. If you haven’t, go watch it first because spoilers for sure. Also what is wrong with you.
The sun had nearly peaked over the horizon when the hunters limped through the manor door. Nicolas watched from the balcony, the teacup in his hand rattling against its saucer, his jaw clenched tight.
Cathy supported Wes’ weight, both of them sprayed with blood, and Father Turpin guided an exhausted and bloodied Leigh over the threshold, his hand on Leigh’s back.
You’re the ‘you’
in my happy poetry,
and that’s like reaching the top
of the stairs
and taking one more step.
You’re my single moment of unexpected freefall.
Q:"Please, put it DOWN." Michael with ur choice of person/people
"Mogar, please, put it down."
The King’s voice was gentle, but there was a line of fear underlying his words. It brought a grin to the warrior’s face, and he steeled his grip on his sword. The blue diamond seemed to glow against the pale skin of the King’s spy, the man in creeper garb.
Mogar knew he’d found the King’s weakness months ago. It had always been a matter of time, a matter of patience.
What would it take to get King Ryan on his knees for Mogar?
His name was Gavin, and if the King didn’t want his blood decorating the floor of the throne room, he would listen well.
"I have demands," Mogar bellowed. Gavin whimpered. Mogar was so close, he could feel the vibration down his blade. "Starting with this one," he added thoughtfully.
He hoped Gavin would be as loyal to him as he was to his previous King.
Q:joelay, "Don’t trust me."
(Oh my goodness, how did you even find me, I’ve never even written Joelay, great, I made myself nervous…)
When Ray starts working for Achievement Hunter, Joel hardly notices. He notices insofar as the kid’s working for his company. And he notices insofar as he has the most obvious fucking boner for Joel.
Joel doesn’t care.
Not like a sociopath doesn’t care, but—he just doesn’t because he knows better.
And Ray sends him these messages, shoots him these looks, grins when he messes with him.
He shouldn’t still want him, not the way Joel treats him.
He’s drunk one night at Geoff’s—Joel, not Ray, never Ray, and what another reason he should stay the fuck away. Joel’s a bad influence. He works too much and drinks too much and wants too much.
Joel is too much.
Ray would shrink under all that, and he deserves more than that.
"You shouldn’t do that," Joel says out of nowhere, thinking about the way Ray’s eyes follow him, linger in all the right places.
"So stop me," Ray says, and Joel’s attention snaps to him.
"You definitely shouldn’t do that."
"Don’t trust me," he says. His heart is pounding, too much, too much when he stumbles away from the couch.