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bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago

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She Lit a Fire [Chapter One]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's been nearing six months since your mother passed and nothing about your fast-paced life feels right anymore. Not knowing what else to do with the inheritance left to you, you quit your job on a whim and book a few weeks stay at a seaside cottage in a small town in Ireland. Unsurprisingly, you're quickly drawn to the handsome bartender at the local pub who curiously doesn't drink–and who also happens to live just down the beach from your cottage. The pair of you end up in a whirlwind romance, but when it comes time for you to leave, Michael is crushed when you refuse to continue things. Though you're certainly surprised to find yourself Stateside two months later pregnant with his child.

Warnings/Tags: 18+; contains smut, mostly fluff but some angst, and an eventual unplanned pregnancy

a/n: Okay, I wasn't planning to share this for another couple of days, but I got it edited up and I was just too excited. I've started on chapter two already, so here you go! Feedback is always appreciated! Full chapter list can be found here.

Standing before the little white cottage nestled in front of the green hillside behind it, you heard the taxi that had just dropped you off beginning to drive away. The gravel road to the right of you crunched loudly under the car’s tires as it disappeared. And then, not even a minute later, you were alone.

Readjusting the duffle bag slung over your shoulder, your left hand clutched the handle of your suitcase as you stared at the wooden front door. For a moment you stood there, mesmerized by the view of the place you’d be staying and the picturesque background behind it as you fingered the single key on the keyring in your right hand. Without the rumble of the taxi's engine in the driveway, you could hear the sound of the waves crashing ashore behind you accompanied by the sound of the gulls flying overhead. It was already far more peaceful here than back at your apartment. Back home all you heard were the sounds of traffic and police sirens on the streets below and the occasional shouting rising up from the sidewalk.

Coming to Ireland had been something you’d admittedly done without much forethought. You weren’t entirely sure why you’d picked this small seaside town of Dunnis Port out of anywhere that you could’ve gone, either, but when you’d been absently scrolling through places to stay on Airbnb, you’d spotted this cottage by the ocean and something about it had drawn you to it instantly. Maybe you were being a little ridiculous, but you swore it had been your mom somehow pushing you to come here. So you’d booked the cottage for the next handful of weeks and then immediately booked a flight to Ireland.

And now here you were, silently wondering what the hell had made you quit your job and disappear to another country. Though you didn’t know how else to spend all the money your mother had left behind to you. You were, after all, her only child. And your father had never been in the picture. Admittedly, you'd also grown tired of the monotony back home ever since your mother’s unexpected passing. Everything had just felt…pointless. You found yourself yearning for something more, though you had no idea exactly what it was that you seemed to be missing. You hoped getting away might help you discover whatever it was, though.

With a deep exhale you took a step forward, beginning to make your way up the paved walkway and towards the cottage as you rolled your luggage behind you. It was nearing seven in the evening here in Dunnis Port and the sun was starting to hang lower in the gray, overcast sky. A shiver ran down your back as you stopped in front of the door, placing the key in the lock. You wished you’d have at least looked into the weather in Ireland before you’d left. How foolish of you to assume that a seaside town in northern Ireland would be warm just because it was the beginning of June–it was barely sixty degrees fahrenheit when your plane had landed and the temperature was only dropping. You hadn’t exactly packed for this weather, which meant you were now going to have to do some shopping tomorrow.

While fortunately Kenmare Cottage was about a mile walk from Dunnis Port's downtown, unfortunately Dunnis Port had no transportation services. Which meant you’d be walking everywhere unless you called a taxi service in one of the larger cities almost twenty minutes away. And that also meant tonight you’d be on foot making your way to the Sheep’s Head Pub that you’d spotted when the taxi had driven through the village’s small downtown a bit ago. You figured you’d find a market tomorrow and deal with having to carry groceries back to the cottage when it wasn’t dark and hopefully would be a bit warmer outside. After that long flight you’d just gotten off of–and with how late it was getting–you figured you’d toss your luggage down, get a good look at the cottage you’d be staying at for a few weeks, and then begin your little trek to the pub for some food and a much needed drink.

Which is what you were doing now. Rolling your suitcase just into the sitting room, you’d rested it up against the back of the gray sofa before dropping your duffle bag onto the sofa’s cushion. Absently rubbing a hand along your sore shoulder from where the strap of your bag had steadily been digging into it, your eyes took in the quaint decor in the cottage. It certainly looked cozy and comfortable, just like the pictures had made this place seem. You figured when the sun was actually out and shining there would be a lot of natural light in here. Looking out of the large window to your right, just beside the little television, you noticed you had a perfect view of the beach and the waves rolling up on shore.

Meandering to the little kitchen just off of the sitting room, you weren’t surprised to see it was barely larger than the kitchen in your apartment considering the size of the cottage itself. All of the cabinets were white with rustic black handles and the countertops were a beautiful butcher block. There was a small wooden table with two chairs situated underneath one of the windows. On the adjoining wall just beside the circular table there was a door that led out to the small, fenced in back garden. A myriad of colorful flowers were blooming against the stone fence and you noticed a cozy bench on the paved patio. A perfect place to read when the weather was nice, you figured.

After having quickly examined the kitchen, you made your way towards the short hallway just off of the sitting room. Poking your head into the room on your right, you found a decent sized bedroom with a queen sized bed that was covered in multiple decorative pillows resting atop a white duvet. Your body practically begged you to step inside and collapse onto it after that long flight, but you knew you’d regret not grabbing dinner if you did.

Glancing through the door to your left you found the bathroom which boasted a large walk-in shower. You’d figured the owner of the property must’ve remodeled this bathroom recently based on the appearance of it. There was a white and black patterned tile floor and that luxurious shower which you hadn’t anticipated being quite so large–it looked even more inviting than it had in the photos. Though you were a little nervous about the uncovered little window situated beside the shower; even if Kenmare Cottage didn’t have neighbors immediately next door, you still worried about someone spotting you stepping out of the shower through it–though it did offer plenty of natural light.

Eyes still focused on the little bathroom window, you noticed it was steadily getting closer to sunset. You had no idea what time the Sheep’s Head Pub stopped serving food, but you hoped if you started your long trek there now, you’d be there in time to eat something and have a drink or two. Maybe the alcohol would warm you up for your walk back to the cottage afterwards. And maybe someone working at the pub would be able to direct you to a place to buy better clothes and some groceries tomorrow.

By the time you’d reached the pub, you were shivering beneath your sweatshirt. You’d long since shoved your hands into the pockets of it in the hopes of keeping them warm while you’d walked. As the sun had further sunk lower in the sky and the night had gotten colder, the walk managed to somehow feel like it had doubled in length. By the time the sights and sounds of Dunnis Port’s downtown met your eyes and ears, you felt a sense of relief flood you. You didn’t even care if the pub was still serving food at this point so long as you could warm up somewhere for a few minutes and have a drink.

Reluctantly removing your hand from the pocket of your sweatshirt, you opened the door of the pub and were immediately met with a wave of warmth and a myriad of chatter and laughter. As you stepped inside, the energy of the place itself almost seemed to wash over you like a soothing balm to the cold. There were a few patrons scattered about at various tables talking animatedly with each other and a few others seated on the stools at the bar counter, partially full glasses of beer in their hands. This place seemed far more lively than you’d anticipated it to be considering what a small town Dunnis Port was.

Taking a moment, your eyes curiously scanned around the pub that was somehow both a mixture of modern and rustic simultaneously melded together. As you made your way over to the bar counter, pulling out a red stool and settling down onto it, you couldn’t help but notice this place felt oddly welcoming. Despite the unexpected temperature, Dunnis Port seemed to have been a good destination choice.

While waiting for one of the bartenders to take notice of you, you glanced back over your shoulder through the front windows of the pub. The sky was a wash of faint purple and pink as the sun began to vanish below the horizon, the colors contrasting with the gray clouds still hanging low in the sky. The opposition of the bright, warm colors overtaking the gloom was beautiful and you couldn’t help but lose yourself in the view as you watched the last sliver of sunlight slowly fade away.

“Somethin’ I can get ya?”

Startling on the stool in surprise at the sound of the voice, you swiftly spun back around. On the other side of the counter was a man who looked just a few years older than you judging by the slight gray in his dark beard. He had dark brown hair and tattoos along his right arm that were visible beneath the sleeve of his black and somewhat fitted tee-shirt. But what really caught your attention was the glimmer of something light and undecipherable in his hazel eyes as he stood there leaning forward with both of his hands splayed wide on the bar counter, a white towel slung over his shoulder and a friendly smile on his face directed at you.

He was easily the most attractive man you’d ever encountered and you were quickly overrun with nerves.

His head tilted a bit to the side, the corner of his lips quirking up a bit higher. “Not from ‘round here, are ya?” he asked.

“What makes you say that?” you questioned back.

You were shocked at how much bolder the question had sounded than you actually felt with his eyes on you. He chuckled in response, the sound of it pleasant and captivating. He dipped his head towards you in something akin to a nod before he spoke.

“American accent is a dead giveaway,” he pointed out, his own Irish accent only further drawing you into him. “And I happen to know just ‘bout damn near everyone in Dunnis Port.”

“Ahh,” you replied, your hands nervously coming to rest on the bar counter as you clasped them together. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Are ya stayin’ at the Carrigan House?” he asked curiously, dark brows knitting together.

“The what?” you asked.

He grinned, shaking his head. “Take that as a no,” he answered. “The Carrigan House is the bed and breakfast ‘round the corner from here. But if ya aren’t stayin’ there, I assume you’re at Kenmare?”

You nodded, fingers tightening nervously around each other. You hadn’t expected this handsome stranger to be so interested in chatting with you. Though, you figured he must not get too many new people to chat with outside of his usual patrons. You were probably just a novelty to him.

“Kenmare Cottage, yeah,” you answered him.

“Bit of a walk dressed like that, isn’t it?” he asked, eyeing your sweatshirt.

Biting your lip, you awkwardly ducked your head. Heat made its way up your neck and into your cheeks, embarrassment flooding you. “I suppose now is where I admit to not realizing just how cold it actually is here,” you replied sheepishly. “I may not have expected the weather to be like this in June and didn’t exactly pack accordingly.”

The man chuckled again, the sound only further causing your face to flame. Internally you cursed yourself for being so ignorant when you’d booked this trip. You should have looked into the weather and done some research for the place you’d planned to spend a few weeks. You shouldn't have been so uncharacteristically spontaneous.

“Ahh, well, it’s usually ‘bout twenty or so degrees durin’ the day,” he told you. “Or, s’pose you’d call that seventy or so? Get’s a bit cooler in the evening’s though. And it tends to rain.”

“Great,” you muttered under your breath.

He laughed lightly yet again, the sound causing you to look up at him from beneath your lashes. His eyes were creased at the corners, a genuine smile spread across his lips. You had a strong feeling that you'd get lost in those eyes if you stared too long.

“Not the beach holiday ya planned, I take it?” he asked in amusement.

You shot him a tense smile, shaking your head. “No, not exactly,” you admitted.

“So,” the man asked, pushing off of the bar counter and straightening back up, his demeanor turning almost business-like, “you waitin’ on your other half or can I get ya somethin’ to drink?”

Eyes narrowing curiously back at him, you asked, “Other half?”

“Oh,” he replied, his head once again tilting curiously to the side as his brows faintly drew back together. “I just assumed ya were here on your honeymoon. Newlyweds are the ones usually stayin’ over at Kenmare.”

A nervous laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it and you quickly shook your head. “Oh, uh, no,” you told him. “I’m not newly married. Or married at all, actually. It’s–it’s just me.” Clearing your throat, you nervously averted your eyes towards what appeared to be the kitchen behind the bar counter. “Is the kitchen still open? My flight got in not that long ago and honestly I’m starving.”

“Yeah, it is,” he answered. “I can get ya somethin’ to eat if you’d like?”

Attention returning to him, your eyes lingered on the way he was staring back at you. He almost seemed to be studying you even more closely now than he had been previously and that had you feeling even more nervous. You shifted in your seat, your hands clasping and unclasping awkwardly along the countertop.

“Is there something you’d recommend?” you asked shyly.

The bright smile gradually returned to his face as he nodded. “Certainly, though I doubt it’s what ya would probably order,” he replied.

One of your brows rose up onto your forehead. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned carefully.

“It means,” the man continued, his smile turning almost cheeky, “that ya look like you’d order the fish and chips off the menu because it’s familiar and safe.”

Your other brow shot up onto your forehead as you openly gaped at the man. He laughed at the look on your face, which normally would have sent you bolting straight to the door, but when his own face lit up with a warmth that reached his eyes, your breath briefly caught in your throat and your mind went nearly blank. What you wouldn’t give for this stranger’s playful teasing to be something more than friendly banter.

“Do you make a habit of insulting your customers?” you asked, trying to recover while ignoring the heat of embarrassment once again on your face.

“‘M’sorry, I didn’t mean it as an insult,” he said, his laughter subsiding but that glimmer of amusement remained in his eyes. “Ya just look like you’re…tryin’ to play it safe? That’s the sayin’, isn’t it?”

“And you think I shouldn’t be?” you asked back.

The man shrugged easily as he rested a single hand back onto the counter and leant in towards you. Your pulse sped up at the way he was looking down at you, his hand half a foot away from your clasped ones.

“‘M’just sayin’ if you’ve come all this way to Ireland then ya might consider tryin’ somethin’ ya normally wouldn’t," he suggested.

Swallowing hard, you fought the urge to blurt out something you'd regret–like how you'd like to try him . You weren't generally the type to have casual one night stands, nor had you come to Ireland with any intention to have some sort of romantic fling while you were here. Though, truthfully, you had no idea why the hell you'd come here to begin with, but maybe he had a point. Maybe you did need to step out of your comfort zone.

“So what do you recommend?” you asked him.

“Potato soup.”

You shot him a flat look. That was not the suggestion you were expecting.

“Soup?” you asked in disbelief.

"Hey now," the man said, holding up a hand and grinning back at you, "don't say it like that. ‘S’good soup and it'll warm ya up. Trust me."

"I don't even know you," you said, the comment slipping out before you could stop it.

He laughed lightly again before reaching a hand up and pulling the towel from off of his shoulder. Entranced by his hands, you watched as he wiped them on the towel before he tossed it back onto his shoulder. After, he extended his right hand towards you over the counter with a smile still lingering on his lips.

“Name’s Michael," he told you.

You hesitated a moment, eyeing his outstretched hand before you gradually unclasped your own, nervously placing yours into his. Clearing your throat, you told him your name, your heart racing when his calloused and warm hand firmly gripped yours in response.

"Now ya know me," he teased, releasing your hand. "So, would ya like a menu or would ya like to trust me?"

"I uh, I guess I'll trust you," you replied, quickly clasping your hands back together on the countertop and awkwardly wringing them together.

"Ya want a beer with that soup?" he asked, raising a questioning brow.

You nodded, lip caught between your teeth. You swore you could feel the ghost of his hand still lingering on yours. It was distracting.

"Yes, that'd be–be great," you stammered.

Still grinning, he lightly rapped his knuckles along the countertop, his gaze holding yours as he did. Something stirred in your chest at the extended eye contact, your stomach knotting anxiously.

"I'll be right back with that for ya," he said, murmuring your name softly.

Continuing to worry your lip between your teeth, you couldn't fight the way his shift in tone had affected you just before he’d turned away. Your eyes tracked his movements, watching him walk away from you and towards the kitchen. Unable to help yourself, you took in the view of the muscles along his back with the way his shirt was clinging to him. Just before he disappeared around the corner, your eyes dipped down and caught the way his dark jeans hugged the curve of his ass. Immediately you inhaled a sharp breath, eyes dropping down to your hands.

This man was going to make it damn near impossible for you to ever visit this pub again. You were positive you’d only end up flushing and stammering around him like a teenage girl. And that would certainly be embarrassing.

Sliding out of the bar stool, you felt warmed from the inside out. It probably shouldn’t have surprised you that Michael had been right about the potato soup–it was a vastly better choice than the fish and chips you’d surely have ordered otherwise. And that beer he’d poured you had certainly done wonders on warming you up. It was admittedly stronger than you were used to, but you hoped that meant you’d just be more resistant to the cold on your trek back to the seaside cottage.

There was a small part of you that was a bit disappointed that you hadn’t spoken with Michael again after that brief interaction when he’d dropped off your soup and your beer. Though you kept telling yourself it was for the best. Developing feelings for a man who lived in another country–and who might also be married or seeing someone himself–seemed like a very bad idea. You didn’t need to further complicate things in your already complicated life. But still, you couldn’t help but let your eyes occasionally stray towards him as he chatted with an older couple at the opposite end of the bar while you ate. You’d also expected him to be the one to give you your bill before you’d left, but it had been a sweet albeit blunt older woman who’d told you her name was Debbie. She’d also given you directions to a market downtown that you could visit tomorrow to pick up some groceries to stock the cottage.

Now that your meal was paid for, you were ready to get back to Kenmare and settle in for the night. Stuffing your hands back into your sweatshirt pockets, you turned and headed towards the pub’s exit. Your mind was already back on that bed you’d seen before you left; you were looking forward to getting back and kicking off your shoes before climbing in and falling asleep. But you barely took two steps towards the door before you heard someone calling your name. Pausing mid-step, you turned on the spot in confusion before seeing Michael standing behind the bar counter, a small smile on his lips. If you were being honest, he almost looked a little nervous himself right now.

“Sorry, just meant to tell ya that ya should stop by Flanagan’s before ya left,” Michael called out. He gestured a hand towards you as he added, “For some more weather appropriate clothes while you’re visitin’. It’s just down the street from here.”

Awkwardly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you sent him a timid smile. Somehow that beer wasn’t quite dulling your nerves but making them worse.

“Thanks, I’ll do that,” you told him.

Turning back around, you were about to leave until you heard Michael speak again. The sound of his voice drew you to an abrupt halt and left you wondering why he seemed determined to continue the conversation.

“Was the soup a good choice?”

Looking back at him over your shoulder, you noticed the smile on his face still looked somewhat shy. Which was a stark contrast to the bold teasing he’d been doing with you just a bit ago.

“Yeah,” you answered. “It was actually. You should tell your chef that it was delicious.”

Michael’s grin widened at your words, that timid edge to him melting away as he leaned forward, resting an arm along the bar counter. That little glimmer returned to his eyes. “Ya just did.”

“Oh,” you said, overcome with another rush of nerves with the way he was eyeing you. “Well I–I certainly enjoyed it.”

“Glad to hear it,” he replied. “S’pose I’ll be seein’ ya ‘round then.”

Your stomach gave a nervous jolt at his words. It was almost as if he wanted to see you again, but that seemed a little far fetched. Humming out an affirmative noise, you sent him a quick wave before ducking your head and hurrying towards the door. The sooner you got back to the cottage, the sooner you could bury your burning face into the pile of pillows on your bed and overthink this entire interaction. And maybe while you were at it, you’d also scream into that pile of pillows about the fact that you’d suddenly gone and formed a stupid crush on a man who lived almost three thousand miles away from you.

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #michael kinsella fluff #kin fanficiton

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autistic-crypt1d · 3 months ago

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Show Rankings: Crime Edition

These are just the crime shows that I've watched (or that I can remember at least). If you have any show recommendations based on this pleeeeeaaaase comment them.

I'll be explaining my reasonings below the cut!

Psych - my favorite crime show ever, it's nostalgic, funny, well written, intriguing, and it balances serious with funny so well.

Sherlock - I mean, this show is incredible on all fronts. It's my favorite kind of show, one that you cannot look away from or get distracted from for even a second without missing something. I was on the edge of my seat absolutely enthralled every second. Incredible show.

Veronica Mars - this one is very different from any others on this list and honestly any other crime show I've ever seen. It's amazing and riveting and so interesting, I love it. I ignore the final season existing like everyone else though, screw that.

Bones - great show, super interesting, love the sciency stuff a ton and the unique way of solving crime vs the others on this list. I hate what they did to Booth and Brennan's relationship finally progressing though, and there are definitely flat points I end up scrolling on my phone through.

Castle - really fun show, but there's a lot of stuff I don't care for in it like oversexualization. It also drags on a bit so thats why it gets some points off. The goofy crime solving mixed with serious plot lines and really fun character dynamics keep it above B for me.

The Mentalist - really fun, love Jane's character endlessly, he reminds me of Shawn Spencer in a lot of ways (Psych mentions The Mentalist a few times too). I love how his trauma is included even while he's covering it up with humor. Ending felt a bit weird for me but I like the show a lot and I like how it's dark while still managing to be lighthearted and fun to watch. Plus the amount of times he goats people into hitting him is amazing.

Monk - I relate to Monk a lot with my contamination OCD, the show is really fun, the team is really fun together, plus it goes on for a while in a great way.

White Collar - I love Peter and Neal's dynamic so much, that's honestly the main reason this is high up. It gets a bit boring and repetitive and drawn out sometimes, but I just love how Peter adopted this suave nuisance and actually gets anything done.

Only Murders in the Building - good show, honestly not super memorable yet but I intend to watch the next season. I think the concept is great and the dynamics of the main 3 are really fun and I like it a lot so far.

So Help Me Todd - fun show, Todd makes me laugh, I think his ever developing and growing partnership with his mom is hilarious. That family is honestly so chaotic and I love it, but the show has some lacking parts I don't quite know how to describe. I found myself forgetting to watch the next episodes.

Brooklyn 99 - please don't hate me for this being at B, it's a great and really funny show, I just really didn't connect with it much. I honestly think it's just because I already loved Psych so much and it's so similar in so many ways. I really do like it though.

Tracker - this show is super new and I like it so far. Something about the way it's filmed or the audio or acting is just super off though. I can't put my finger on exactly what's wrong but it just feels so weird. Other than that, I love the concept, it's completely unique from any other ones I've watched so far and I like it a lot. I'm excited to see where it goes.

Rizzoli and Isles - I like this one, but it just didn't grab me like a lot of the others. I love Moira so much though. Plus it really does have a lot of interesting plot lines.

NCIS - ok, this show is super old so you can imagine what that means content wise. There's quite a few jokes and comments that are straight up fucked and that's one of the big reasons it's low. The other reason is how downhill it went after Ziva left, I completely stopped watching after Bishop left too.

Limitless - concept was cool but the writing left a lot to be desired for and of course the fact that it got canceled. The main cop woman also felt really wishywashy as a character to me which is not great for a lead.

#bones #psych #the mentalist #veronica mars #bbc sherlock #castle #monk #white collar #only murders in the building #so help me todd #autistic-crypt1d #NCIS #tracker #tracker cbs #rizzoli and isles #limitless

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liu-anhuaming · 1 year ago

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《我是歌手》 Season 1——Thoughts and Feelings

I finally finished rewatching 《我是歌手》 season 1. It only took me 4 months...

Anyways. I've put together some thoughts I have on this season (with some spoilers about eliminations and whatnot).

Here's a link to the YouTube playlist of every performance from this season (I'm pretty sure I got them all). It's 111 videos. For some reason, the 芒果TV account had like none of 羽泉's performances posted (maybe a copyright thing?), and they were missing a few other performances, so sorry if the quality on a few of the videos isn't the best. I went with the best versions I could find on YouTube.

Here's where I watched this season. It was actually kinda difficult to find a place to watch this season for free; a lot of the other seasons were on YouTube for free when I first watched them (though some have been removed since then). Thankfully I found this site, and the quality is really good. There's some funky sound editing moments, though it's unclear if the original recording is bad or if it's the video on this site. Either way, it's the best quality version I've found to date.

Also, advanced apologies to any 沙宝亮 fans out there.

The singers in this season all seemed to be more established and well-known. I mean, 齐秦 alone is wildly famous, and then there’s 羽泉 and 黄贯中 (from Beyond). That’s not a bad thing, since all of them were really talented. However, I personally think the show is at its best when there are a few newer or lesser-known singers thrown into the mix. It makes the competition even more unpredictable, and a lot of these singers bring some pretty unique performances to the stage. I think the only reason I have this preference and this stands out to me is because I watched all the other seasons before season 1, so my expectations of the show had already been set based on what they’d done in later seasons. So I’m not judging season one too much for this, and I understand production would want to do what they could to ensure a decent viewership.

One of the things they did this season that never shows up again in other seasons is have one episode where everyone spins a wheel and picks their next song that way. I thought it was an interesting one-off episode idea, and it gave us a lot of great performances. It pushed some of the singers kinda far outside of their comfort zones, and I always like to watch when singers pick challenging songs. A really great episode came out of this idea. As much as I love the singers getting creative freedom, sometimes it’s fun to watch them struggle a bit. Idk, maybe that’s mean of me to say lol

There was also one episode where each singer picked one of 齐秦’s songs to perform, and it was sort of like a tribute episode since he had to leave the season early? And at the end 齐秦 performed his return song, which he never got to do when he left. I liked this episode since I’m not super familiar with 齐秦 (I’m more familiar with his sister, the absolute goddess 齐豫), so I got to hear more of his songs. As much as I liked it, I don’t know if it’d work every single season.

胡海泉 was also a really good host. I found all of his mistakes really relatable because I, too, cannot fucking speak.

In terms of the singers, the ones who stood out the most to me were 林志炫, 黄绮珊, 尚雯婕, and 杨宗纬. I already knew about 林志炫 and 黄绮珊 before starting this season, so I knew what to expect from them. Every performance from 林志炫 was perfect (what else would you expect from the One Take King?), but my favorite performance of his (and actually of the whole season) was 《没离开过》. 黄绮珊 was also really great to watch. Even though I personally didn’t like a couple of the songs she chose, she was consistently killing every performance, even when she was sick. 尚雯婕 was pretty unpredictable in terms of genre, but I liked a lot of her performances. My favorite from her was 《Dog Days Are Over》, and I think it’s a shame she didn’t get to perform that before she got eliminated. She was really creative with her picks, and I really respected the risks she took even if I didn’t fully enjoy it sometimes. (Also, she was definitely this season’s fashionista. Those shoes, man) 杨宗纬 was a really unexpected favorite, since he wasn’t around very long before the resurrection round. But he really chose some good songs and put his everything into the resurrection round, and kinda won me over at the last minute.

The rest of the singers were good, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I really loved or hated them. With one exception, that is.

沙宝亮 is a very talented singer, and I think he put on some very good performances. However. I personally could not stand the man. You know how sometimes you just see a person, and immediately think, “I do not like this person”? No good reason for it, there’s just something that you personally aren’t a fan of? Yeah, that was me with 沙宝亮. Every time he was onstage, I felt uninterested. Each time he spoke on camera, I did not care. This man did nothing particular to earn this from me, yet here we are. I was glad when we didn’t win the resurrection round, only for him to come back and torment me in the final episode. Despicable. Since I just spent this whole paragraph trashing him, let me be kind and say his performance of 《Someone Like You》 was quite good.

Now that I’ve discussed all the singers, let’s give out some “awards”.

My favorite performance: 林志炫《没离开过》

Best Fashion Moments™: 尚雯婕’s ensemble in episode 7 （非常的French）, 沙宝亮 in episode 9 (it was just ugly, sry), 周晓鸥 in episode 10 (that snakeskin vest? thing? was a Choice), 黄贯中 in the resurrection round (zero effort put in to covering that tattoo and it’s pretty funny imo)

Best hosting moments from 胡海泉: episode 1 mixup between 字zi/zhi, episode 3’s ze样一首歌, doing tongue twisters as prep in episode 4, this quote from episode 5 “看完明姐的表演，我宣布辣妈时代正式到来”, and episode 10 when the subtitlers really committed to spelling out every mistake he made

Most noteworthy episode: episode 5 (lots of great performances, the aforementioned 辣妈时代 comment, the lights in the confessional scene needed to be adjusted bc 周晓鸥’s bald head was too shiny, the guitarist Tommy was not wearing glasses/sunglasses which dealt me a deep psychic blow. 我是歌手 superfans will understand)

So overall, I did enjoy this season. I liked a lot of performances, and hated very few. Even though it was pretty good across the board, I don’t think it has a lot of rewatch value for me. There are certain seasons I know I’m excited to see again (like seasons two and three 👀), and I don’t think this would be one of those. Instead I’m probably going to just return to a few standout performances and rewatch those (I’ve already watched 《没离开过》 an embarrassing number of times).

#我是歌手 #我是歌手第一季 #chinese langblr #mandarin langblr #mandarin chinese #mine #m music #sorry to 沙宝亮. you did nothing to deserve my dislike.

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spacejammie-eimmajecaps · 1 year ago

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For the fanfic writing meme...YOU pick 10 numbers YOU want to answer! I want to see which ones of those most excite your or you have the most to say.

My attention span is horrible right now tbh, I couldn't even read through the whole list. So these are the 10 that stood out to me when I was skimming it over:

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

One-shots because they are quick and easy (for the most part). Multi-chaps take so much more effort. Although, multi-chaps are more satisfying to finish. Pros and cons with each. I do miss one-shots, though. Been a very long time since I've written one.

Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

I used to only write as I went, which was honestly so fun. I'd surprise myself with unintended plot twists and stuff like that. But now I plan ahead, and that's very necessary for a story like SGB, which is very long, detailed, and packed with subplots. I will say, though, that while there is a plan, I let the chapter change as needed if the plan isn't working or I think of something better while drafting, and sometimes I add scenes last minute (or cut entire scenes if it just doesn't feel like it's working). Having a plan is good, knowing when to be flexible is also good.

Do you like constructive criticism?

Depends on what that looks like.

If someone wants to point out a typo, I'll be appreciative (and I do actually have a fandom friend who used to message me when she found typos in my posted works, which I am grateful for). And if there is an obvious mistake, I don't mind it being pointed out (for example, I was messing up the serve order in games and someone very kindly pointed that out, so I fixed it, and I'm very happy that they pointed it out so that I didn't keep making that mistake).

But if someone said things like, "I don't like how you wrote that" or "that character would never do that" or "you should write that differently" or anything relating to like, personal preference, I'd be annoyed and not grateful at all.

On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

I used to be able to bang out 10-12k words in a day, back when my health wasn't so bad. Granted, the quality of those 10-12k words wasn't great at all, and part of why I write slower now is because I'm thinking about a lot more technical aspects that I used to be unaware of. Anyway, these days I can maybe get 3k written on a very good day, but 500-1000 in a day is more realistic for me now.

What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

Take a break, read books and watch shows, rest, re-read what I've already written, etc.

What’s your revision or editing process like?

1. Rough draft

2. Fill in details and missing elements

3. Focus setting/sensory details and add last minute details

4. Check that dialogue/body language matches each character (usually end up adding a few more little details as well)

5. Make sure the chapter as a whole makes sense, cut anything unnecessary, check for consistency

6. Proofreading (check line by line for typos and grammar issues)

Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

There are some fics I like to re-read maybe once a year or so, and sometimes I read a fic twice in a row if I really liked it. I'd probably re-read things much more frequently if I wasn't so busy writing.

Five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

Hopefully not still writing SGB😭😭😭

Why do you continue writing fics?

Because I'm bored and have nothing better to do, and more importantly, because I enjoy it.

What order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

Chronological. I have to use my favorite scenes as a reward for getting that far in the story, so I don't allow myself to skip ahead.

#thanks for the ask!#stormears

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awn-moo · 1 year ago

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Love Ball - Is there anyone you care deeply for? It can be romantic, platonic, or familial love.

Finishing up for the night, so one more ask!

There are plenty of people I deeply care for. Narrowing it down to one would be a dishonor to everyone else. But, to keep things simple, I'll only list a few.

First off, I have Lux. He's been my "rival" for ever. Really, we've just been friends since childhood. We didn't set out on our journeys together, as I was later to the game than him. I think of him as my platonic soulmate. We've been through so much together, it'd be like losing part of myself if I lost him. I nearly did lose him though, as we had done what's stereotypical for rivals. But he's still my closest friend and I only wish him the best going forward <3

Next is Arla. She's mostly an online friend, as she's from Galar, but we funnily enough met while I was in Kalos. She was in Kalos for something and we just happened to start talking. She's one of my best friends and the time I spend with her is always so fun. She's actually running a flying type gym in Galar, so maybe I'll visit sometime.

Now, he may be a newer friend, but I feel like we've been friends for much longer, it's Curt! I just happened to approach the first Depot Agent I could find and that was him. What turned into asking about the battle subway turned into a whole conversation where I actually missed the train. And, I'm so glad he's helping out with Urbex Adventures. He's actually just got a copy of what I've edited so far to peer review it. But, it feels so natural talking to him. I, I feel this way about so few people, that it's nice to feel it again. I love him deeply and he's doing so much for me, even when he doesn't have to or need to. Just, I could go on for a while.

And to try and keep it shorter, one more. I don't really interact with him aside from conversations after our battles, and just recently for Urbex Adventures, but Ingo? I get nervous talking to him, and, I feel like a kid with a crush. I also have this sort of admiration too. Like, the way he expresses his emotions through his words and small shine in his eyes. When we talk about our battles, I see his eyes light up and smile. He, really loves his pokemon, battling, and making sure everyone has a good time on the subway. And, arc I'm getting flushed just typing this all out...

I, ah, don't want to bore you with my silly crush that probably won't go anywhere. So, goodnight!

#pokeblogging #pokemon irl #pkmn irl

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mainstoryarchive · 3 months ago

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Kingdom - 71: Destiny

Nazuna: Ahem, we're sorry for making you wait this long!

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: Auditorium

Nazuna: Ahem, we're sorry for making you wait this long!

The tallying of the votes has finally ended, so I will now announce the results of this S1 ♪

By the way, the one delivering the results to everyone is me, the broadcasting committee's Nazuna Nito, also enrolled in Yumenosaki Academy like the others here ☆

I am also the leader of a unit called Ra*bits, so in time I will surely be greeting you as an idol on top of the stage.

Rei: You calculatingly put in advertisement for your own unit. As always, you don't miss any chances… Nito-kun?

And as always, you are very adorable. You must be acting like that on purpose, how pleasant to see you putting on a cute face…♪

Nazuna: Sh-Shut up! Stop disrupting me, I'll knock you off the stage!

Rei: Calm down, you have the habit of fumbling your words when you get angry. Keep orderly at least until you announce the results, in order to fulfill your responsibilities as the presenter.

Nazuna: I-I had planned to do so from the very start! Don't say any more unnecessary things and keep silent!

Hm, well it's fine. I'm in a very good mood today ♪

Runrun ♪[1] Leaders of the units that participated in this S1, please line up.

The leader of the unit that won will be illuminated by the spotlights ☆

Everyone, please look over them while holding your breaths!

Which unit showed you the most excellent performance… no, who made you enjoy yourself the most today!?

I hope you're highly anticipating it! In the end, which unit will grab the mark of victory!?

Keito: Just for caution's sake, I am going to confirm this with you. It seems you were moving around restlessly, but you didn't manipulate the votes, did you?

Nazuna: How rude! I didn't have enough free time to do something like that, I was really busy with editing the footage and broadcasting it up until just now!

I still have a grudge over the S2 the other day so I am anti-student council, but I make sure to do my job properly!

I will announce the results fairly, don't make fun of me just because I'm small!

Keito: It isn't like I'm underestimating you because you are small… I'd even go as far as to say that my opinion of you has improved thanks to all the things you have done.

I've been done in. It is too late to regret now, it seems there is nothing keeping me steady anymore.

I underestimated you people, I dug my own grave.

They say that a cornered rat bites the cat, but it seems that rabbits bite as well.

Ra*bits, huh… I should have completely annihilated you in that DreamFes the other day so that you would lose the will to ever retaliate after that.

Well, fine. We brought out our best in this live, I will silently accept the results.

Rei: How manly, you can struggle more and act more pitiful, you know?

Now is the last moment you will be able to stand there with a calm face. The attitude of standing with your head held high like kings until the end at least, is commendable.

There are only a few more moments left until you are dragged off your throne… At the very least you are allowed to stay arrogant.

Keito: The results aren't set in stone yet. Until the moment that a loss is recorded in the official records, we of AKATSUKI are the reigning power in this Yumenosaki Academy.

Rei: Fufu, even though you yourself also don't believe you won. You have seen it as well, haven't you? Trickstar's radiance…?

That is the trigger that will help open the curtain to a new era.

The stronger the light is, the deeper the shadows grow. Those very shadows are the territory of us, UNDEAD. This position is quite comfortable ♪

Well then, transfer student. Step one more step forward.

No need to hold back, you are the main characters tonight. I will make sure to at least give you applause from here in the shadows.

Hinata: Hmm… Unlike Sakuma-senpai, we don't really like being supporting characters, though.

Well, it's fine, both the training and the live itself were fun after all.

We are still first years, we have a future. Next time 2wink will aim for the top, me and Yuta-kun ♪

Rei: Oh, Hinata-kun came out. So you were the leader of 2wink?

Hinata: Well, I am the older brother. At any rate, we have been acquainted for quite some time now, so please be able to keep us apart, Sakuma-senpai.

Nazuna: You guys, you're chattering too much! Keep quiet, I will be announcing the results ☆

[ ☆ ]

← prev ❖ all ❖ next →

This is the sound of Nazuna humming.

#enstars #ensemble stars #ensemble stars translation #rei sakuma #hinata aoi #nazuna nito #keito hasumi

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faithfulcat111 · 7 months ago

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16, 25, and 30!

My bed. 90% of my writing gets done right there in the comfy bed.

Oh boy, do I! I post a whole-ton of edits, mainly photo editing, but I also video edit. I crochet, knit, cross-stitch. I used to draw and paint, but not so much lately. I also play a lot of video games. Read where I can, build lego sets. Cosplay, although that has fallen to the side in the last year. Mainly just use it for Ren Faire's when I can. I've dabbled in about a million other things, but those are what I've mainly done in the last couple of years.

My weirdest hobby, probably, is just building lists/spreadsheets/family trees. I do a lot of genealogical research which is wild trip. Let me tell ya, it is interesting when you can't find record of one of your grandmother's or any of her siblings existing (even though half of them are still alive), but can trace a particular line on another grandmother's side all the way back to the First Cruscade. One of these days I'm actually gonna info-dump about all the weird shit I've found so far in my family tree.

If I Fail You One More Time...

Actually gonna share a TUA fic instead of Stranger Things. Says a lot that I can still look back on this story with pride. I wrote it for the TUA Mermay event three years ago now, determined to make each chapter fit a day over an actual plot. It worked pretty well, I only missed a few days near the end. Still proud of it, I will say.

More Writer Asks

#ask game #faith answers

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mitigatingacademics · 11 months ago

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{12.25.23}

Merry Christmas, friends. 🎄

This year truly reminded me why I enjoy working the holidays.

Despite baking copious cookies, offering up Party Perks full of slow cooker hot cocoa (they're not made for that...have you ever tried to clean one after it's been used for something it's not made for? 🤦��‍♀️🤣) and dressing like an elf for the past four Christmas Eves, it's been hit and miss.

In 2020 we only had two trains and half the crews due to Covid furloughs. Last year we were blasted by winter weather so severe that I came back from my annual December vacation (for baking) to 3 nights without trains and finally, at least, 2 on Christmas Eve.

Last year's (workplace) Christmas was even harder than 2020's, to be honest. With the Covid cuts we knew what to expect. Fav co-worker was at a down-line station and we sent each other gifts on the train. One of my favorite Conductors was furloughed -- I actually took her gift to her house and got to see her extensive Christmas village set-up and gorgeous real tree. We adjusted.

Last year's arctic blast was unanticipated (at least beyond a few days out) and we were left, more or less, with our hands tied as to options and little else to do but apologize and feel bad.

To put it into perspective -- this year's company official ugly sweater says 'Getting You Home For The Holidays' ...which is exactly what we were NOT doing last year. 😔

This year, fully staffed and 60 degrees (which I admit I also complained about a bit, but...less -- the sweet spot is, failing a dusting of our own, being able to chisel a piece of a white Christmas off the New York train and hold it in your hand -- I'm not kidding, see below from my first Christmas at this station 😂 ) spirits were festive and good times were had.

It felt right and I'm very grateful.

White Christmas 2018 be like:

Favorite and most meaningful gifts this year include:

From Mom (selected by me).

I also received two books by Rachel Maddow and a whole-ass desk situation (I've needed a desk for so long, I can't wait to get everything put together and arranged!).

When Jamie's book arrived:

Mom: Who is Jamie Raskin?

Me: He's a Congressional Representative from Maryland. ... He was on the J6 Committee.

Mom: Of course he was. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Me: He's also an incredibly intelligent and articulate professor of Constitutional Law? 🤷🏻‍♀️😂

Dad gave generously in the form of gift cards, several of which are for Amazon and will undoubtedly go towards more books.

You can never have too many books. 📚

From fav co-worker.

I'm no longer holding a (selfish and inappropriate) grudge against her for bidding off the regular that had us working together 3 nights a week. She had her reasons and, as I told her the first time she brought it up (though it took a hot second to get over myself and actually mean it 🤦🏻‍♀️😂); I hope it helps in the way she thinks it will.

Even when we're not working together multiple nights a week, she still knows me better than just about anyone these days. These items are just a few from a huge bag of individually wrapped thoughtfulness.

I love Harry Potter in Dutch more than I could possibly explain.

Once I get through the Feb. LSAT (decided we're sticking with that one, for better or worse -- last night and tonight are the first nights since my last real post that I haven't spent at least an hour with Brad Barbary 😂), I want to get back to practicing Dutch (and French) for more than just keeping my Duolingo streak alive.

Inspiring Women Fisher-Price Little People edition is equally amazing. I'd never even seen this set (and I love it!) but also, I now have a 'collection' of these items so the next time Amazon tries to sell me the Sanderson Sisters or Golden Girls I don't have to worry about starting yet another collection. ...it was done for me! 🤣

It goes without saying that Sweet Liz telling the world, in a best-selling memoir which will undoubtedly be instrumental in the way that she's remembered far into the future, that the GOP is led by morons, is one of the greatest gifts I've ever been given.

Beyond my unending appreciation for the commendable sass with which Liz so articulately expresses herself, I am truly and seriously so grateful for the time and effort she put into not only the things that she's done, but the book she wrote about it.

I was asking for a book before its existence was announced, it had a great deal to live up to in my mind, anticipation aside, and it went above and beyond. Full review to follow (I'm almost done with my notes).

I have an incredibly blessed life and I am very grateful.

#LSAT #Baking #liz 👑❤️🙌🏻

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mistmarigold · 5 years ago

Video

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“Tomorrow you’re mine.”

#I've no idea how I'm managing school with all this hercai stuff but here we are #also i missed doing edits even though I've only done a few so far #and I wanted to experiment more #hercai #reymir #my video edits

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princeresnikov · 2 years ago

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it's in my nature {Tangerine} // 1

one. the scorpion: better a fruit fly than a clementine.

Chapter Summary: The Scorpion (Clementine) and The Prince board a train that will change their lives forever, and The Scorpion, at least, is non the wiser. The Prince makes sure her well trained but disheartened bodyguard knows her place, and Clementine really hates this goddamn family.

{ Masterlist }

A/N: 2744 words. Lets GO baybee. I've been reading the novel and tried to stylise my writing more to match that because I find the Isaka's writing style really engaging to read. :) also this is kind of a slow burner, as much as a fic that follows the film can be i suppose. also i think The Prince's characterisation might lean a bit more towards her book counterpart, but there's also a reason she doesn't mask her intentions around clementine as often as others. this is mildly edited at best.

Warnings: Don't be surprised when the OC is a terrible person and is implied to have done terrible things along with the rest of them. Chapter specific warnings will be added when necessary so please heed them. There will be smut in the future chapters.

Taglist: @venusthepirate [ always open, just message or comment! ]

-----

When Clementine boards the Shinkansen behind The Prince, she does so with a reverential, bowed head, always shadowing her charge only two steps behind.

"You're thinking awfully hard there, fruit fly," the Prince's tone is almost sing-song, marching through the aisle of the seventh cart to their seat. Of course she was able to pick up on Clementine's masked distraction. Clementine herself grimaces, at the tone, at the name, at her focus breaking.

"Going through dossiers in my head," she says frankly, sitting when directed to, smoothing the pleats of her skirt out against her thighs, eyes still trained down, impractical attire for her line of work, but appearances had always mattered more to The Prince, and hopefully there wouldn't be any acrobatics required today.

The Prince's own outfit is similar to Clementine's, skirt, blouse, though she had a sweater vest where Clementine wore a full sweater. The Prince was in pink, looking all kinds of girlish and innocent, while Clementine was in rich browns and oranges, as if she were able to blend into the wooden detailing and gold lighting of the first class cabin, or into the background of any scene she was party too, far more deliberate than one might assume. Both outfits were far more unassuming that either individual wearing them, for that exact reason. The only truly unique and practical item in Clementine's outfit was her expensive leather gloves, which served to house the two highly advanced prosthetics she required on each hand as she was missing both ring and pinkie fingers.

"Your job is simple, fruit fly, father hired you to keep an eye on me, and that's all you need to do," the Prince crossed one leg over the other, leaning back in her chair before she chanced a glance over her shoulder. Clementine's brow furrowed once more at the nickname, but kept her mouth shut. It had been a long while since she's been properly active in the field, and she'd forgotten how grating it was to be under The Prince's thumb.

The Shinkansen doesn't rumble to life like most other trains, it's take off is glass smooth, and Clementine barely feels a jolt as they finally head out from Tokyo.

"Why are you going through dossiers anyways?"

"Didn't bring a book, ma'am," Clementine tells her, peering out from her seat to scan the aisle, cautious where the Prince's similar movement had been strangely anticipatory.

"I could lend you one," the Prince somehow even managed to sound condescending with a simple offer. Clementine politely declined, and for a few moments they share a calm silence. The kid reads too much True Crime, and Clementine had enough stories of her own to not bother with the sensationalized, publicised stuff. Her mind instead drifts once more, to Cape Town, to Barcelona, to Santiago, to the past year and a half that she'd spent intelligence gathering all over the world. Others like her, hitmen, assassins, trained killers from all walks of life, she had hunted them, practically stalked them at her client's request, spending months gathering every scrap of information she could about them while living in the periphery of their lives. She never had to pull the trigger, no her employer had grander things in mind, things that Clementine need not be privy to to do her job. So she did, never afraid of what lengths she would have to go to in getting everything she needed. In New York -

"I should call you Clementine too," The Prince mused blithely. Clementine's nose scrunched almost involuntarily, "not a fan?" The Prince has always liked watching her reactions; Clementine is a fun toy for the bored teen, if only you knew how to push her buttons, "its even on your necklace; it'd be rude not to." There's the beginnings of a cruel smile at the edge of The Prince's lips, but Clementine composed herself. The dainty necklace around her neck, complete with a tiny, glass clementine, however, feels distinctly heavy.

"Whatever would suit you, ma'am."

"You're so passive," The Prince practically sulks, arms crossed, expression sour as she looks pointedly at the head rest in front of her. The seats around them are far emptier than Clementine had expected, but she's grateful to have relative privacy for this conversation.

"I'd prefer fruit fly," Clementine says carefully, "or cockroach -"

"But Clementine's so pretty," The Prince is clearly teasing. Clementine sits a little straighter but doesn't look up from her hands in her lap, "and you're not even a cockroach anymore."

"I was never a fruit fly, and yet," Clementine finally casts a less than amused look at the Prince, mouth set in a thin line. The Prince seems to be taking this all as one big joke, if the mirth alight in her eyes is any indication.

"Clementine," the Prince tried to school her expression into something more serious, tried to hide her smile when their eyes met, but it's not particularly effective.

"Yes, ma'am?" Clementine tried to remain as neutral as she was able, though The Prince still seemed to see the resignation in her, and was thrilled by it. For all the time Clementine had known her, she'd always known The Prince took great pleasure in inflicting cruelty on others as some sort of bizarre experiment about the nature of humanity.

"You really are tragically formal."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And tragically dull."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Can you not call me that? You make me sound like my mother," and despite The Prince's casual tone, Clementine still frowns reflexively. They both know she said it to cause a reaction; the Prince prides herself on any power she can claim over others, even something as small as that.

Clementine hesitates for a long moment before she dips her head, if only to hide her eye roll.

"Your highness," she doesnt even fight her own rueful tone, but The Prince at least doesn't seem to mind.

"I know you're teasing, but I actually would prefer that," she offers. Clementine gives a non-committal hum, but does not see fit to respond further. At that, The Prince makes a face, propping her chin up on her hand and tapping her cheek with her index finger, as if analysing Clementine thoroughly. Clementine finally looks away from her charge and the malevolent gleam in her eyes, comfortable simply being observed in this moment.

"I can't believe he obsessed over you like he did," there's something cold in the Prince's voice. A muscle in Clementine's jaw twitched. "Was it something sexual?" The question startles the demure mercenary, though years of training mean the only outward display of this is the derisive way her lip curls.

"I don't think this is appropriate, ma'am," Clementine struggles to keep her tone passive. The Prince gives her no reprieve.

"Oh hardly," she laughs, "but I'm still asking. Don't be a prude, Clem," it almost sounds like they're friends, a stranger may mistake them as such. Glancing at The Prince shows the girl's body language to be open and easy, hands and shoulders relaxed, a trap to Clementine's expertly trained eye, who knew the teen far better than to trust her, "come on, I know how easy it is to manipulate someone when you know what they want, and sex is such a base desire," then, carefully, the Prince leans back in her seat, looking again to the empty headrest in front of her, "I've read your reports, I know how you operate." The Prince glances back over her shoulder, down the aisle, before settling further into her seat.

"I don't know why he was obsessed with me," Clementine answers slowly, "though, if I did have an idea about why, I still wouldn't share it with you, ma'am."

The Prince actually groans with frustration, head pushed back against her headrest as she squeezes her eyes shut tightly. Arms crossed over her chest, she looks markedly less relaxed than she had done moments ago. It's the little things in life that Clementine had had to find joy in, and now, the arrogant Prince's frustration is one she'd gladly enjoy. Clementine relaxes her own shoulders, lets the tension drop from her jaw as she smiles; it's a give and take of tension between them, and has been for as long as Clementine's known The Prince and her family, neither made happy from the others joy as much as their anguish.

"Dull," The Prince huffs petulantly, "can you go be dull elsewhere?"

"Is that an order?" Clementine was genuinely confused, which only seemed to irritate The Prince further. The young woman's face scrunches with some kind of put-upon frustration at the question. The Prince often lamented the predictability of the world around her, the way everyone always behaved as expected, but admitted that Clementine often caught her off guard in the most 'deeply uninspiring' way. Again, it was one of the small joys of the mercenary's life. Instead of beratting her bodyguard, however, The Prince sits up a little, but remains looking forward as she speaks.

"In a sense, yes; there's money on this train and I need you to find it for me," the teen says, voice dropping low so there was no chance of any of the few more remote passengers would hear her. Clementine outright scowled at this.

"Absolutely not," without hesitation, Clementine declined. This mission was humiliating and demeaning enough, posing as the tutor for 'The Prince', acting more like the girl's handmaiden, she was not going to encourage the girl's sense of entitlement any more than she could help.

"So quick to judge," The Prince admonished, shaking her head, "it's not like I'm going to keep it, I just want to make sure it's all there."

"Why don't I believe you?" Clementine narrowed her eyes at her charge.

"Because you're deeply paranoid, fruit fly, which is healthy in your line of work, I'll grant you that, but I promise for once I'm being genuine; that money will see its rightful owner," the Prince, for once, sounded mostly genuine, and Clementine sighed, "I think you should start looking in the third car." Considering how little Clementine wanted to remain in The Prince's presence, and The Prince's unfortunately well established, almost supernatural good luck, Clementine gracefully rises from her seat. The Prince smiled toothily at her, "at least you're predictably obedient, good for something I suppose."

"If I come back to any shenanigans -" Clementine hissed.

"Shenanigans? How old are you?" The Prince cut her off with disbelieving glee, which Clementine ignored.

"I'll knock your ass out myself so I can make sure you behave for the rest of the trip," the tick in Clementine's jaw is back at the sight of The Prince's smug little smile in the face of the threat.

"When you come back with the money you can make that judgement call," is all she said. Then holding up her own, little phone, The Prince's smile became wider, almost as if she were trying to convince Clementine of her innocence; it may have worked on someone less familiar with her, "I'll text if I need anything, I promise."

Clementine carefully smoothed her expression to something more neutral, and nodded, about to reply when her own phone starts ringing. The Prince cocks her head to the side, intrigued by the coincidence, and Clementine fishes the phone from her bag. It's The Prince's father, and she tells the teen as much.

"Tell him I'm having a wonderful time," she settles into her seat with a languid ease as Clementine rolls her eyes and takes off up the aisle while answering.

"Your daughter wanted me to pass on that she's having a wonderful time," Clementine tells him almost robotically, in lieu of a proper greeting.

"So you've both settled comfortably on the train?"

Away from The Prince, Clementine allowed herself to relax, tension in her shoulders easing, walking with a well earned confidence.

"It's well lit but not overbearing, everyone's suffocatingly helpful, the leather chairs are immaculate," Clementine rattles off with a detached kind of boredom now, "running an errand for The Prince now but we're in constant contact, not that there should be any problem."

"An errand?"

"A fetch quest for her royal highness; don't worry, she won't leave first class, that's why you've got me here," Clementine assures with a practiced warmth, gliding with ease down the aisles of the train, making sure to look over and catalogue as much detail as she could.

"Scorpion," he uses her code name with such malice, even as he'd bestowed it on her several years before. It's never gotten easier to hear from him, "if a single hair on her head so much as splits, you will no longer have your own, do I make myself clear."

Clementine bites her tongue as the irritation bubbles up venomously inside her.

"As crystal, sir," she mutters through her teeth, stopping at the baggage hold between the third and fourth cars. Peering through the window on the door, the economy seating is just as blue as the she'd just passed, and just as sparsely filled. It's a straight shot to the end of the car, to the baggage hold between cars two and three, and she'd rather start back there and work her way up. She thinks she sees someone catch a glimpse of her peering through the window, analysing the composition of the car, but she's trying desperately to not draw attention to herself, and so ducks back the little vanity area to finish her conversation.

"Nothing will happen," Clementine assures, drawing the curtain across and leaning against the wall, making sure not to catch sight of herself in the mirror. The blonde is new, it's been drawing attention all around Tokyo and it feels too ostentatious, but her boss insisted, and she really doesn't like to refuse him.

"Still, one must always plan for contingencies; unlucky that she insisted on such a public form of transport, lucky that you were available."

"Your wish is my command, sir," Clementine fiddled with her gloves, making sure they were secure, and the prosthetics they concealed were all at full capabilities.

"You have demonstrated your respect and loyalty these past few years, especially after rejecting my family's kind offer, and the incident that followed," as he speaks, Clementine stops fiddling; he often brings up the past in order to hold it over her head, this time felt distinctly different, "once you have safely escorted my daughter to her destination, your debt to me will be cleared," Clementine feels like her heart has stopped in her chest, "you will be free to take on freelance contracts wherever you wish, though you are more than welcome to work with myself and my family at your previous rate."

"You'll rescind the burn notice?" Oh, Clementine hopes he doesn't judge her for the hope in her voice. A pause follows, and a strangely amused chuckle.

"I'll rescind the burn notice," he agrees, "I will re-endorse you to my colleagues and contacts, and -" he pauses for effect, "while your direct payment will still be at your reduced rate, you will be able to secure the remaining amount that will meet your previous rate upon that very train."

In that instance, Clementine feels an almost sickening sense of joy and even fondness for The Prince several cars down. Foolish to think she wouldn't be in on this in some way; she's far too perceptive, even if her father hadn't clued her in she'd still have found out one way or another.

"There's money on this train?" Clementine murmurs, carefully peering out behind the curtain to make absolutely sure she was alone.

"Yes, in a briefcase, I believe my contact who has stored it on the train put a sticker on the handle of a train itself."

"Thank you, sir! I'll find it."

"Scorpion, do not forget the terms of this; this is your only chance." And he hangs up without even saying goodbye.

Clementine's barely containing her glee, she's overwhelming giddy in this moment of solitude, bouncing on her toes. It's the best conversation she's ever had with him, a far cry from the man who took four fingers from her as punishment years ago.

Perhaps she could have been kinder to The Prince, after all, without her help Clementine wouldn't have the first clue where to look for the cash. Finally, with the promise of freedom, she can go back to loving her work, to choosing it for herself, to reminding those in the circles she used to run in that she was still top of her game. There was a confidence now, one she hadn't felt in years.

Until she opens the third car's door.

#tangerine x oc #tangerine x reader #tangerine imagine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine #bullet train #bullet train imagine #bullet train oc #tangerine bullet train x oc #the prince #the prince bullet train #bullet train 2022 #bullet train x reader #bullet train movie #bullet train fanfic

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studiojeon · 3 years ago

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bitterness in goodbye | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)

| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-

contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.

author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕

words: 1.57k

playlist: honey by halsey

Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence.

As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.

Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.

Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.

Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”

Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.

Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.

You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light.

Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.

You text Chaeryeong instead.

“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.

chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.

chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”

You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).

You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.

Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”

Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.

“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.

You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with.

And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.

“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”

After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.

You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

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honeyhotteoks · 2 years ago

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hi, i’m actually an avid reader of yours who found you on ao3, and i just wanted to tell you that you incorporate idol boyfriend delusions and slice of life so well in your work ㅠㅠ that’s a weird way of putting it, but it’s also the only way i can lol

on another note, i’m actually a bit envious w how you have so much drive to write ! i used to write tons myself until i got burned out so badly that i couldn’t even look at my drafts anymore. real life and other things have kept me away from writing as a whole, but your work has slowly made me miss penning my own stories?? the power you hold, i Swear

that’s why i wanted to ask: how do you manage to write even with your daily responsibilities? i thought i could use some insight, especially from one of my current fave writers.

no pressure in answering tho! i really just wanted you to know that you’re amazing enough to inspire another burned out writer to rekindle the love they had for their craft again :)

first of all, this is maybe one of the biggest compliments i've ever received and i can't thank you enough. i've talked a little bit about this before, but to be completely transparent before i got into ateez i hadn't written a word in maybe five or so years. i was deep in burnout after years of writing fic for other fandoms and writing creatively for myself. so please know that you are not alone, i've absolutely been there.

as far as managing to write, this is a tough one. i work 40-50 hours a week at my full time job and i live with my partner, plus with friends and real life things going on, it's hard. what i've found works really well for me is a combination of early morning and late night writing depending on the day. however i do want to acknowledge that i'm very privileged in the sense that i work from home and my job has somewhat flexible hours, so i'm not dealing with juggling a commute or a rigid schedule.

most days i get up between 6am and 7am, and i'll get my morning started with my normal routine, and then from 7am to 9am (when i start work) i'll usually write. when work gets slow sometimes i'll write then too, or if both of those times fail and it's a night where my partner wants to do his own thing or go to bed early, i'll stay up and write and wake up a little later the next day.

in the beginning it was like i had to sit down and write, especially with aurora because the story was just itching to come out, but now things have started slowing down for me. what i'm focusing on now is consistency, and i get joy from writing so i'm scheduling time for myself to write. i'm also planning ahead and committing myself to publishing certain work on certain days, so that pushes me to get that content together.

the one thing i will say though.... if you start writing again, i know how deep the temptation is to share it right away, but i would recommend holding it for a bit. write a few things, and then go back and keep editing / feeling the work out. especially if you're going to attempt something multi-chaptered. the only way i've been able to keep up with aurora is by writing ahead. i have almost the rest of the story written, just a few chapters here and there not done or edited out, and that is been really comforting to me on days when i'm struggling to write or feel like i can't get ahead.

i hope this is helpful! feel free to drop me a message any time as well x

#answered anon #on writing

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qyllenhaal · 4 years ago

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God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

Enjoy!

"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.

"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.

"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."

The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.

She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.

Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.

The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else

She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.

Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.

One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.

"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.

Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.

"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.

Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.

His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.

Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.

"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."

Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?

They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.

"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.

"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."

Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.

Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.

It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.

Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.

She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

"Who was it?"

"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."

"Lee!"

"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.

He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."

It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.

Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.

"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."

His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.

"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.

The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.

She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.

Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.

"Y/n , can I speak with you?"

It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.

"Is everything alright Sally?"

"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.

"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"

"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."

Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?

'That's not right, that's not right.'

No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.

It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"

They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.

She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"

The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?

Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.

It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.

He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.

Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)

She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.

And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.

"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.

"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.

Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.

The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.

"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."

Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.

"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."

She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.

Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.

"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"

"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.

"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.

Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.

"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."

Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.

"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.

Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.

"You ever been in a car this nice before?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.

Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.

He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.

"Lee what are you doing-"

"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."

The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.

Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.

"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."

His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.

Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.

"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."

He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.

"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.

Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.

Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.

"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.

Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.

The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.

"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.

Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.

Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.

"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"

She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."

His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.

Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.

"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."

"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."

"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"

"But what if you don't win?"

Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"

"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”

Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.

"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.

Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.

Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.

Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.

"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."

There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).

Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.

She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.

Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.

"What you doin' down there?"

Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.

"Did I scare you?"

The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.

"Where's my niece?"

Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.

Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.

"Y/n go make us some ice tea."

Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.

"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.

"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"

Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"

He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.

"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.

"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"

"It's going."

"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"

"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."

Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.

There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.

Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"

He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.

If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.

This morning felt so different.

The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.

The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.

"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."

Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.

She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.

When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.

Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.

That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.

Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!

"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.

"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.

The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.

"You're not the one they always send."

"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.

"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.

"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.

Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.

The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.

Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?

"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."

The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.

She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.

"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."

Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.

"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."

Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.

"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.

"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."

No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.

"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."

"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."

An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.

"I'm thirsty...go make me something."

Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.

"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"

"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"

Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.

Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.

People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.

Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."

Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.

"My wife was here?"

"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"

"Yea yea just ring it up."

Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.

The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.

Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.

Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.

"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.

Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.

"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."

Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"

"I needed something from the store."

"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"

"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."

What a sweet little liar.

But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.

“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”

Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.

“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”

He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker smut #the devil all the time #dark fic #lee bodecker fic #sebastian stan fic

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