Entry tags:
[...the way she breathes when she's sleeping...]
Lassiter: "Hey, muse, so I got this idea for that Kill Bill polyfic we was talkin' about."
Muse: "A'right, lessee what we got."
Guerrilla HP muses just waiting for the right moment to come: "ATTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"
_kissyfish did beta duty and thanks very much to her. Huzzah!
Summerbreeze
Harry Potter. Hermione/Ginny, Hermione/Bill. R. Illustrated by
vengari. [one] [two]
'might have been a while/since you've been loved/like you should be loved.' -emiliana torrini, "summerbreeze"
After the sex, Hermione sometimes felt used. Not that Ginny was using her. No, far from it. Hermione suspected the blame could be placed on the feminist propaganda that the politically correct bourgeoisie had pounded into her head all these years. Take control of your body or some such thing. Your body is a temple. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. If they repeat a warning often enough, it becomes fact. If you have sex, you are being taken advantage of. You are debasing yourself.
No, there had to be another explanation. She refused to have something like propaganda be responsible for the slow death of the one of the few things that might just keep her sane. Perhaps it was something that was nobody's fault and within nobody's ability to explain.
"Hermione, are you all right?" Ginny asked.
Hermione said, "Yes."
Ginny just stared at her. Then she reached over and pulled Hermione into a hug. A simple embrace: Hermione's head on Ginny's shoulder, Ginny's hand on Hermione's back, the other hand stroking her hair. It was warmer in her arms. Hermione began thinking that if she just kicked off the blankets, even if it were the middle of winter, she wouldn't be cold because Ginny was here. Who needed stupid blankets. The Burrow was never drafty (much) anyway.
"You've done nothing wrong," said Ginny. "I don't know how to make you believe it, but you've done nothing wrong."
"I know," said Hermione.
"I won't leave you, you know."
Hermione inhaled, deeply, shakily. She exhaled. Ginny just held her tighter.
"And I'm willing to stay," said Ginny, "until you come around, and who knows, maybe even after that."
And Hermione didn't know what she had done to have such a thing said to her. She didn't know how Ginny had the intuition to say the right words at the right time, especially when Hermione felt she should be the one saying those words. She closed her eyes and kissed Ginny's throat, just a soft brush of lips on skin, and tried not to think too much.
***
For the duration of July, the household was under the rule of Bill and Charlie while Mr and Mrs Weasley took a second honeymoon to celebrate their enduring love and the fact that there was only one more year until all their children finished school. ("They're celebrating almosts now?" said Charlie. "Can't they just be honest and tell us they want to have a fuck without hearing us nattering on in the next room?") The four of them were the only ones remaining at The Burrow. Fred and George were at their shop in Diagon Alley as always, Percy was doing business for the Ministry, and Ron was with Harry at Seamus's. There were a lot of people at Seamus's this summer, from what Hermione could cull from the end-of-school gossip mill. Their letters to the Burrow were always vague and sterilely pleasant, which caused all four of them to roll their eyes.
"What happens at Seamus's stays at Seamus, apparently," said Charlie, feeding Errol an owl treat.
"Probably better that way," said Bill.
Hermione felt slightly more comfortable with the public displays of affection in front of Bill and Charlie than in front of their parents, but not by much. Hermione hadn't even been comfortable with a kiss on the cheek in front of Mr and Mrs Weasley. Now, with only Bill and Charlie children around, she was more at ease with hand-holding and being kissed on the mouth. Right, not so much a kiss as a peck, really.
To be really honest, Hermione was generally not very comfortable with public displays of affection in general.
"You don't make sense," said Ginny. They were in the garden, and Hermione was sitting back against a tree, reading a book. Ginny was lying with her head in Hermione's lap, idly turning wildflowers red and blue and purple and so on with her wand. "You let me lie down with my head on your lap, but you can't deal with a kiss on the cheek?"
"They're completely different," said Hermione. "A kiss always means something, but lying down with your head in someone's lap, well, anyone can do it. Fred and George do it."
"Fred and George are Fred and George. You and me are you and me. And this means something to, you know. It means I like you."
Short declarative statements said with an air of simplicity that bordered on touching because of what it took for granted: of course Ginny liked Hermione. Of course this was the way the world worked.
"Why do you always complicate things?" asked Ginny.
Hermione sighed and changed the subject. "Do your parents mind your being gay?"
Ginny shrugged. "They see what they want to see. How are your parents about it?"
"I don't know. The subject never came up."
"Hmm," was all Ginny said. She rolled onto her side, changing the flower to violet, burgundy, peach, and Hermione returned to her book.
The sun shone and, like God saw on those first seven days, it was good.
***
Hermione once made a list of the things she liked about Ginny. She thought she might be focusing much too much on herself in this relationship, and that perhaps it was time she put some serious thought into the other party.
Sitting alone on Ginny's bed in the late afternoon, she made a long, eclectic list in her notebook, including things like her curious preference for broccoli and the way she breathes when she's sleeping. Hermione never thought she would end up with a person like Ginny, really. Quite frankly, she wasn't really sure what kind of person Ginny was. Ginny liked to fly on her broom. Ginny liked to steal her brothers' broom and fly on theirs. Ginny would help you with the cooking if you asked her, but would never start cooking by herself. Ginny fixed her own clothes, though, and she'd fix yours without your asking her to. Ginny liked to laugh, and she wasn't afraid to get dirty in the garden. Hermione wasn't sure what sort of person that made Ginny, but it seemed to be the right sort of person for Hermione.
She reckoned that was good enough.
***
Bill and Charlie were the epitome of Cool Big Brothers all summer, developing a case of strategically wandering eyes (when they weren't winking, of course) and glib absorbency. Don't ask, don't tell. Time spent with them never stopped being mundanely charming.
So this is what it's like to be an adult, Hermione thought. It felt like she had been inducted into some kind of fellowship. Bill and Charlie treated her and Ginny like equals, and they would have these conversations and make these jokes that would make Hermione think things like, So this is what adults do. They were fascinating in their everyday domesticity.
After supper that night, Bill told them to relax while he and Charlie did the dishes. The girls went up to Ginny's room and locked the door behind them. It was moments like this, Hermione thought, because Hermione tended to get cerebral about things she didn't understand. She never brought it up with Ginny, but suspected Ginny knew, that Hermione was felt uncomfortable and inadequate that Ginny had had more experience with sex than she had. Moments like this were double-edged swords, because although they made her think the thoughts, they could just as easily make the thoughts disappear. All that had to happen was for Ginny to pull up Hermione's robes and slide her hand up Hermione's leg until her fingers rested lightly--just barely--on the fabric of her underwear, until Ginny slipped her hand inside, until Ginny slipped a few fingers inside her.
Neither would say anything, and there would just be the sounds of robes rustling and breaths gasping for the next few minutes. Afterwards, sometimes Ginny would hold her wet fingers up to Hermione's mouth and say, "Lick it." Hermione obeyed, but that was as far as the dirty talk went. The sex was straightforward, like Ginny herself.
Hermione liked that about Ginny, that she just went ahead and did things without wanting too many explanations. Hermione was rather the opposite, and she kind of hoped that next time she needed the world explained to her, she could rely on Ginny to kiss her and kiss her and kiss her until no explanation was needed at all.
***
The first time she and Ginny fought, Hermione was terrified. She was used to fighting with friends, but she didn't know the rules when it came to fighting with lovers. Maybe there were no rules. Maybe they should make some.
It was over something trivial. Something stupid that was exaggerated by words said in the heat of the moment. Hermione didn't show that she was scared and confused, because whenever she got into a fight, her default function was to go for the gold. She didn't back down, and she eviscerated Ginny's arguments without a second thought. They stormed away from each other, slamming doors, calling names, and when Bill came along asking, "What's going on, then?" Hermione just glared at him before slamming yet another door.
That night, she slept in the room the Weasleys initially prepared for her. "I know you've always stayed with Ginny whenever you come round ours," Mrs Weasley had said, "but with Ron and Percy gone, I thought you might like a room of your own for a change, if you want. There's so much space." That night, Hermione touched herself not to thoughts of Ginny but of Bill, in an act of petty and futile revenge. Bill was what Hermione's mother might call a smart arse and what other kinds of mothers might call dashing. He had the earring, the ponytail, the flippant intelligence, the unassuming face he'd put on before saying something cheeky and strange, and the way his left eyebrow would go up and down in tandem with whatever anecdote he was telling.
She didn't know how to start the fantasy at first. Who a person was and how they were like with her had always been an intrinsic part of these things. Hermione didn't just fall in love with Ginny; she fell in love with GinnyandHermione, with what they had between them. Hermione did know Bill, but that was precisely the problem. The Bill Hermione knew wouldn't be anywhere in her lurid fantasies. Still, she found Bill more attractive than Charlie, and she was sure that if she tried hard enough, she'd eventually come up with something. She'd eventually come.
She did. (She's riding him, straddling his hips, and the red hair spread around his head is like a sunburst against the mattress as he grips her hips so tightly, hard enough to bruise and she pants and she pants and she rocks and she rocks, closer to closer to closer to...)
The next morning, she spent most of breakfast looking at her porridge. When she spoke, she looked mostly at Charlie.
***
Hermione and Ginny made up eventually. Not the day after, but soon enough. Maybe time really does heal all things, doesn't it? she asked herself. She wondered how much there really was to heal. Hermione knew it was a quarrel and hardly the Third World War, but sometimes she just thought about these things too much.
"You were really scared, weren't you?" asked Ginny.
"Scared of what?"
"That I'd dump you."
Hermione scoffed. "Come off it, Gin. We've only just made up."
"You were really scared, because you look so relieved now."
There was an amused smile on Ginny's face, which Hermione didn't appreciate at all. When Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione from the back and put her cheek on Hermione's shoulder, Hermione didn't reciprocate one bit. She didn't pull away either.
"You're a silly one, Miss Granger," said Ginny.
"Are you thinking you can sweet-talk me?"
"You're rather lovely."
"...You too." Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry."
Ginny frowned. "For what? I thought we did that part already."
"For... things, I don't know." Hermione rushed the next few words. "For being bad in bed, I don't know. Things. I have these ideas that..." She sighed again. "Sorry for..." She sighed again. "Sorry for being an idiot. I'm... new at this." She gestured at Ginny's arms around her.
"But what about you and my brother?"
Hermione smiled dryly. "What about him? He's off doing God-knows-what at Seamus's now, and when he was with me, I don't think even God knew what he was doing."
Ginny gently pushed the hair back from Hermione's head, held Hermione's face in her hands and said, "You make a lovely idiot."
"Thank you."
Hermione smiled, and then was kissed. She closed her eyes, kissed back, and tried not to think too much.
***
"summerbreeze is blowing through your window
summerbreeze is blowing through your hair
something in your eyes that took me by surprise
don't tell me that it ain't there"
[end.]
Muse: "A'right, lessee what we got."
Guerrilla HP muses just waiting for the right moment to come: "ATTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Summerbreeze
Harry Potter. Hermione/Ginny, Hermione/Bill. R. Illustrated by
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
'might have been a while/since you've been loved/like you should be loved.' -emiliana torrini, "summerbreeze"
After the sex, Hermione sometimes felt used. Not that Ginny was using her. No, far from it. Hermione suspected the blame could be placed on the feminist propaganda that the politically correct bourgeoisie had pounded into her head all these years. Take control of your body or some such thing. Your body is a temple. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. If they repeat a warning often enough, it becomes fact. If you have sex, you are being taken advantage of. You are debasing yourself.
No, there had to be another explanation. She refused to have something like propaganda be responsible for the slow death of the one of the few things that might just keep her sane. Perhaps it was something that was nobody's fault and within nobody's ability to explain.
"Hermione, are you all right?" Ginny asked.
Hermione said, "Yes."
Ginny just stared at her. Then she reached over and pulled Hermione into a hug. A simple embrace: Hermione's head on Ginny's shoulder, Ginny's hand on Hermione's back, the other hand stroking her hair. It was warmer in her arms. Hermione began thinking that if she just kicked off the blankets, even if it were the middle of winter, she wouldn't be cold because Ginny was here. Who needed stupid blankets. The Burrow was never drafty (much) anyway.
"You've done nothing wrong," said Ginny. "I don't know how to make you believe it, but you've done nothing wrong."
"I know," said Hermione.
"I won't leave you, you know."
Hermione inhaled, deeply, shakily. She exhaled. Ginny just held her tighter.
"And I'm willing to stay," said Ginny, "until you come around, and who knows, maybe even after that."
And Hermione didn't know what she had done to have such a thing said to her. She didn't know how Ginny had the intuition to say the right words at the right time, especially when Hermione felt she should be the one saying those words. She closed her eyes and kissed Ginny's throat, just a soft brush of lips on skin, and tried not to think too much.
***
For the duration of July, the household was under the rule of Bill and Charlie while Mr and Mrs Weasley took a second honeymoon to celebrate their enduring love and the fact that there was only one more year until all their children finished school. ("They're celebrating almosts now?" said Charlie. "Can't they just be honest and tell us they want to have a fuck without hearing us nattering on in the next room?") The four of them were the only ones remaining at The Burrow. Fred and George were at their shop in Diagon Alley as always, Percy was doing business for the Ministry, and Ron was with Harry at Seamus's. There were a lot of people at Seamus's this summer, from what Hermione could cull from the end-of-school gossip mill. Their letters to the Burrow were always vague and sterilely pleasant, which caused all four of them to roll their eyes.
"What happens at Seamus's stays at Seamus, apparently," said Charlie, feeding Errol an owl treat.
"Probably better that way," said Bill.
Hermione felt slightly more comfortable with the public displays of affection in front of Bill and Charlie than in front of their parents, but not by much. Hermione hadn't even been comfortable with a kiss on the cheek in front of Mr and Mrs Weasley. Now, with only Bill and Charlie children around, she was more at ease with hand-holding and being kissed on the mouth. Right, not so much a kiss as a peck, really.
To be really honest, Hermione was generally not very comfortable with public displays of affection in general.
"You don't make sense," said Ginny. They were in the garden, and Hermione was sitting back against a tree, reading a book. Ginny was lying with her head in Hermione's lap, idly turning wildflowers red and blue and purple and so on with her wand. "You let me lie down with my head on your lap, but you can't deal with a kiss on the cheek?"
"They're completely different," said Hermione. "A kiss always means something, but lying down with your head in someone's lap, well, anyone can do it. Fred and George do it."
"Fred and George are Fred and George. You and me are you and me. And this means something to, you know. It means I like you."
Short declarative statements said with an air of simplicity that bordered on touching because of what it took for granted: of course Ginny liked Hermione. Of course this was the way the world worked.
"Why do you always complicate things?" asked Ginny.
Hermione sighed and changed the subject. "Do your parents mind your being gay?"
Ginny shrugged. "They see what they want to see. How are your parents about it?"
"I don't know. The subject never came up."
"Hmm," was all Ginny said. She rolled onto her side, changing the flower to violet, burgundy, peach, and Hermione returned to her book.
The sun shone and, like God saw on those first seven days, it was good.
***
Hermione once made a list of the things she liked about Ginny. She thought she might be focusing much too much on herself in this relationship, and that perhaps it was time she put some serious thought into the other party.
Sitting alone on Ginny's bed in the late afternoon, she made a long, eclectic list in her notebook, including things like her curious preference for broccoli and the way she breathes when she's sleeping. Hermione never thought she would end up with a person like Ginny, really. Quite frankly, she wasn't really sure what kind of person Ginny was. Ginny liked to fly on her broom. Ginny liked to steal her brothers' broom and fly on theirs. Ginny would help you with the cooking if you asked her, but would never start cooking by herself. Ginny fixed her own clothes, though, and she'd fix yours without your asking her to. Ginny liked to laugh, and she wasn't afraid to get dirty in the garden. Hermione wasn't sure what sort of person that made Ginny, but it seemed to be the right sort of person for Hermione.
She reckoned that was good enough.
***
Bill and Charlie were the epitome of Cool Big Brothers all summer, developing a case of strategically wandering eyes (when they weren't winking, of course) and glib absorbency. Don't ask, don't tell. Time spent with them never stopped being mundanely charming.
So this is what it's like to be an adult, Hermione thought. It felt like she had been inducted into some kind of fellowship. Bill and Charlie treated her and Ginny like equals, and they would have these conversations and make these jokes that would make Hermione think things like, So this is what adults do. They were fascinating in their everyday domesticity.
After supper that night, Bill told them to relax while he and Charlie did the dishes. The girls went up to Ginny's room and locked the door behind them. It was moments like this, Hermione thought, because Hermione tended to get cerebral about things she didn't understand. She never brought it up with Ginny, but suspected Ginny knew, that Hermione was felt uncomfortable and inadequate that Ginny had had more experience with sex than she had. Moments like this were double-edged swords, because although they made her think the thoughts, they could just as easily make the thoughts disappear. All that had to happen was for Ginny to pull up Hermione's robes and slide her hand up Hermione's leg until her fingers rested lightly--just barely--on the fabric of her underwear, until Ginny slipped her hand inside, until Ginny slipped a few fingers inside her.
Neither would say anything, and there would just be the sounds of robes rustling and breaths gasping for the next few minutes. Afterwards, sometimes Ginny would hold her wet fingers up to Hermione's mouth and say, "Lick it." Hermione obeyed, but that was as far as the dirty talk went. The sex was straightforward, like Ginny herself.
Hermione liked that about Ginny, that she just went ahead and did things without wanting too many explanations. Hermione was rather the opposite, and she kind of hoped that next time she needed the world explained to her, she could rely on Ginny to kiss her and kiss her and kiss her until no explanation was needed at all.
***
The first time she and Ginny fought, Hermione was terrified. She was used to fighting with friends, but she didn't know the rules when it came to fighting with lovers. Maybe there were no rules. Maybe they should make some.
It was over something trivial. Something stupid that was exaggerated by words said in the heat of the moment. Hermione didn't show that she was scared and confused, because whenever she got into a fight, her default function was to go for the gold. She didn't back down, and she eviscerated Ginny's arguments without a second thought. They stormed away from each other, slamming doors, calling names, and when Bill came along asking, "What's going on, then?" Hermione just glared at him before slamming yet another door.
That night, she slept in the room the Weasleys initially prepared for her. "I know you've always stayed with Ginny whenever you come round ours," Mrs Weasley had said, "but with Ron and Percy gone, I thought you might like a room of your own for a change, if you want. There's so much space." That night, Hermione touched herself not to thoughts of Ginny but of Bill, in an act of petty and futile revenge. Bill was what Hermione's mother might call a smart arse and what other kinds of mothers might call dashing. He had the earring, the ponytail, the flippant intelligence, the unassuming face he'd put on before saying something cheeky and strange, and the way his left eyebrow would go up and down in tandem with whatever anecdote he was telling.
She didn't know how to start the fantasy at first. Who a person was and how they were like with her had always been an intrinsic part of these things. Hermione didn't just fall in love with Ginny; she fell in love with GinnyandHermione, with what they had between them. Hermione did know Bill, but that was precisely the problem. The Bill Hermione knew wouldn't be anywhere in her lurid fantasies. Still, she found Bill more attractive than Charlie, and she was sure that if she tried hard enough, she'd eventually come up with something. She'd eventually come.
She did. (She's riding him, straddling his hips, and the red hair spread around his head is like a sunburst against the mattress as he grips her hips so tightly, hard enough to bruise and she pants and she pants and she rocks and she rocks, closer to closer to closer to...)
The next morning, she spent most of breakfast looking at her porridge. When she spoke, she looked mostly at Charlie.
***
Hermione and Ginny made up eventually. Not the day after, but soon enough. Maybe time really does heal all things, doesn't it? she asked herself. She wondered how much there really was to heal. Hermione knew it was a quarrel and hardly the Third World War, but sometimes she just thought about these things too much.
"You were really scared, weren't you?" asked Ginny.
"Scared of what?"
"That I'd dump you."
Hermione scoffed. "Come off it, Gin. We've only just made up."
"You were really scared, because you look so relieved now."
There was an amused smile on Ginny's face, which Hermione didn't appreciate at all. When Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione from the back and put her cheek on Hermione's shoulder, Hermione didn't reciprocate one bit. She didn't pull away either.
"You're a silly one, Miss Granger," said Ginny.
"Are you thinking you can sweet-talk me?"
"You're rather lovely."
"...You too." Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry."
Ginny frowned. "For what? I thought we did that part already."
"For... things, I don't know." Hermione rushed the next few words. "For being bad in bed, I don't know. Things. I have these ideas that..." She sighed again. "Sorry for..." She sighed again. "Sorry for being an idiot. I'm... new at this." She gestured at Ginny's arms around her.
"But what about you and my brother?"
Hermione smiled dryly. "What about him? He's off doing God-knows-what at Seamus's now, and when he was with me, I don't think even God knew what he was doing."
Ginny gently pushed the hair back from Hermione's head, held Hermione's face in her hands and said, "You make a lovely idiot."
"Thank you."
Hermione smiled, and then was kissed. She closed her eyes, kissed back, and tried not to think too much.
***
summerbreeze is blowing through your hair
something in your eyes that took me by surprise
don't tell me that it ain't there"
[end.]
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Keep up the awesome work, Lass (read: keep putting the rest of us poor, slow, uninspired fic writers to shaaaaaame).
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*rubs you* Wait, you didn't mean like that, did you. *runs away before you press charges*
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::holds hands out, wrists ready for cuffing::
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Randomness: This fic made me think of floral sundresses.
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Ah, but what is it's last name?
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*g*
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Thank you very much, amiga. Glad it worked for ya.
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Gracias.
...I don't know why I'm speaking Spanish, I didn't even study it in school.
En un el valle de nariz es queso amarillo y verde!
...Nevermind, nevermind...
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Ha! Score.
*celebrates with ginger beer and chocolate frogs*
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Ingrates. I've been accomodating towards the characters and they repay me with defeat!
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Ain't no-one gettin' past him.
Yes, am writing Elephant fic.
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*makes "oooooh, shiny!" eyes*
Mmmm.
Shiny.
Oh so shiny.....
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Haha, I'm so glad! Thank you very much to ye. ;)
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As weird as this sounds, your fics have this flow to them. A feeling if you could call it that. I adored this, it feels very laiback and easy going yet it has something real there. Like summer. And oh your Hermoine and Ginny, so very good.
just gaaaah.
<3
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Short declarative statements said with an air of simplicity that bordered on touching because of what it took for granted: of course Ginny liked Hermione. Of course this was the way the world worked.
Those kinds of statements are always the ones that I find most touching in relationships, romantic or otherwise. I found it brought me closer to the story, the way that Hermione noticed this.
But now you realise you've got to write about what's happening at Seamus'...
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But now you realise you've got to write about what's happening at Seamus'...
Let's see what the guerillas have to say about that. Our guards were down when they attacked. But now I've kicked the MacManus twins off sentry duty, fortified the barriers, posted mutants at every watchtower, and this time we should be set for those magical person-type-things. DID YOU HEAR THAT, HARRY, HUH? WE'RE READYYYYYYY.
And thank you very much for the comment. :) Awesome, man.
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Haha those twins get into everything, eh? I'm not complaining.
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It's amazing. You pick out little things and talk about them and they make the fic. The characters...the situations...the dialogue...wow. Just wow.
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Dude. Gracias very much. :)
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