#once i am back at work on monday i will be able to compare and know how accurate my memory was

[darekasama]

HEYYYY

Someone (me, it's me) just spent 12 straight hours re-drawing floor plans on autocad, FROM MEMORY, of the house I visited this week while working as a trainee (I remembered most measurements and approximated the rest). From 4 pm to 4 am.

Now, that COULD be just a normal thing that happens when I make my own fun.

BUT

I did drink coffee at 4pm, so maybe that was what made me hyperfocused. Typically coffee does not affect me, but I the quantity was substantially more than usual.

It's almost 9 am now.

...

I'm going to do a little experiment.

[anathemafiction]

Year Round-up

Hosted Games has sent me the royalty statement for June, which means I have data from June 2022 to June 2023 — marking one year since The Rose was released. 

These are the numbers:

They add to a total of 18,236 copies sold.😭😭 This is... beyond my wildest dreams. I am so, so grateful to everyone who bought it and reviewed it. You have my eternal gratitude.❤ I know this number is probably really small compared with more successful and popular stories, but to me, this is mind-blowing. 

Eighteen thousand people! I can't even imagine a crowd that big in my mind's eye; it seems ridiculous. It seems unreal. It seems, like the story of Romanus, fictional. But here I am, pinching myself and realizing it is real life.  

When I submitted the game for publication, I privately hoped to sell 10k copies in the first year — I didn't say that number out loud to anyone because I felt like it was a silly, unrealistic dream, and yet you passed it by more than 8k. My new hope is that it'll get to 20k copies sold by the second year, so fingers crossed! 

I really am so grateful. I said this on my Patreon already, but writing this game, and immersing myself in this community has literally changed my life. Because of the incredible support from Patreon, starting September, I'll be able to cut down the hours on my day job so that I'll have more time to dedicate to writing Book Two — I'll have full Mondays and half Thursdays completely free to write! 🎉

I'm so excited!!!! Writing full-time would be a dream come true — one that, like that 10k number, I always thought to be impossible, but slowly, gradually, maybe it isn't such a silly hope after all. Maybe it can happen. This is certainly a step in the right direction. 

And because of your support here, in this blog, motivating me when I was feeling burned out or insecure about my writing, I was able to keep going. I don't have the time, unfortunately, to answer as many ask and spend as much time here as I once had, but I adore this blog and this platform, and I am forever glad I made the decision to make an account and press that publish button for the first time, all the way back on 2019.

As a celebration and a gesture of appreciation, when I finish coding this chapter I'm working on, I'll open early access on Patreon and then release the first demo of Book Two to the public! I'm already getting nervous in anticipation. 😄

Thank you all, once again, and may the road rise up to meet you and that soothing wind be always at your back. 🌹

[losfacedevil]

Stress Relief // Sam Kiszka

a/n ~ Sammy’s clearly become my muse. This spilled out of me at the speed of fucking light I swear. 

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ~ explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), unprotected penatrative sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)  Fluff, angst, smut, all the good things.  It’s been roughly 4 years since I last attempted to write smut, and I am the MOST vanilla person so uhh if it sucks just ignore it please don’t come for me lol. 

Mondays sucked, there was no pleasant way to put it. The weekends were never long enough when it came to work, both of you doing your own thing full time and only able to come together late into the night. You had nothing but love for the music career he had embarked on with his brothers and best friend, dubbing yourself their biggest fan as you watched from side stage whenever you could. But you held a love hate relationship with your career, the mundane drone of retail life nothing compared to his rockstar life. 

You sighed as your eyes landed on the clock, he had promised to be home by five; having nearly begged you to make his favorite dinner he couldn’t wait to come home to after a long day in the studio. But you knew full well who sent you a message as your phone vibrated on the table in front of you. Pulling a long breath in through your nose you leaned forward, eyes focusing on the message. 

Sammy  Long session 😫 see you soon 

Huffing out a sigh you stood, making your way to the couch knowing full well he’d grab some fast food on his ride home, the dinner he’d dreamed of long forgotten as the session he was playing with his brothers droned on and on. Your eyes roamed around the living room, mind wandering as you focused on the keyboard that sat in the corner, the chair he loved using tipped sideways; lingering remnants of the previous days fight.

He couldn’t get the tune just right, the notes just a little off to his ear. Taking a deep breath he repositioned his fingers over the keys, playing the same tune in the exact same way he had just moments before. A groan slipped past his lips, tilting his head to look at the ceiling.

You sat curled up on the couch, a weighted blanket thrown over your lap as you were engrossed in the newest book you had stumbled across on the last Target run. Dog earring the page you were on you turned your attention to Sam, watching as he screwed his eyes shut another frustrated huff passing through his nose as he once again repositioned his fingers on the keys. This time the tune sounded different, a little better than the last but clearly still off key as he curled his top lip upwards bringing his hands up and slamming them down on the keys. An ear piercing screech sounded as all of they keys sounded at once. 

“Samuel,” you scolded, tossing the blanket off of your lap before standing and stretching. 

“Samuel,” he mocked, rolling his eyes as he tried to play the tune one more time. 

You made your way over to him, resting you hands on his tense shoulders as he let his head fall to the keyboard. You winced as every key sounded once again, no method to the madness he was creating. He sighed, lifting his head and resting it back against your stomach as you began rubbing soothingly against his tight shoulders. Rolling his head gently side to side he laced his fingers together, cracking his knuckles before placing his fingers back down on the keys. His frustration grew as another off key tune trailed from the keyboard. A sigh slipped past your lips as you took a step back knowing full well what his next move would be. 

“Fuck this.” He mumbled, slamming his hands down one more time before standing with enough force to knock the chair he was sitting in on its side. 

“I really don’t think it sounds that bad, sugar.” You encouraged. He shook his head, stepping away from the keyboard as he reached up threading his fingers through his hair. 

“What do you know? You think anything sounds good.” He mumbled, focusing his gaze on his sock clad feet. You nodded, pressing your lips into a tight line as you walked back over to the couch sitting back in your spot. 

“Noted.” You mumbled, tossing the blanket back over your lap as you reached for your discarded book. 

You had let the argument go, knew he was frustrated with what he was working on but also knew that he shouldn’t have taken out his frustrations on you. The jingling of keys in the front door drew you from your thoughts as your eyes drifted towards the door. He nudged the door open with his foot, keys dangling from his teeth as he held his bass case in one hand and a grease stained bag in the other. A soft smile caressed your lips as you padded barefoot over to him, holding your hand out for him to drop his keys into. 

“Burger King.” He mumbled, tossing the bag onto the counter closest to him as he kicked off his shoes and set the case down next to the door. You nodded, hanging the keys up on the rack by the door as he made his way further into the kitchen. 

“How was the session?” You dared to ask, eyes taking in his clearly stressed appearance. Sam shook his head, pulling open the fridge looking for a cold beer before turning to you, lifting his shoulders up in a shrug.

“Way too fucking long.” He cracked open the beer and took a long swig before placing it down on the counter.

“Did you end up getting the melody you were trying to play yesterday?” You had leaned back, resting your hands on the counter and glancing over your shoulder gauging if you had enough room to hop up and sit. 

A sigh slipped past his lips, reaching up he pulled a hand down his face. His head tilted in a subtle nod, his gaze meeting yours as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. You had pulled yourself up on the counter, legs dangling as you kicked your feet slightly, your hands clasped together in your lap. 

“Seems my frustration level was to blame.” He mumbled, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck as he took two tentative steps in your direction. 

“I’d say.” You mumbled, reaching your hands out to him. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he intertwined his fingers with yours, closing the space between you as he nestled his hips between your knees. His thumbs caressed the backs of your hands, the soft touch sending tingles up your arms.  

“Whatcha doin’?” Your voice was soft as you tilted your head backwards eyes finally meeting his. He pulled his shoulders up into a shrug, eyes flitting away from yours as he processed his thoughts. 

“I’m sorry for last night.” His gaze snapped back to yours as you wrapped your legs around his thighs, pulling your body closer to his. 

“It’s okay, you were frustrated. It’s not my first Sammy can’t get it rodeo.” You shrugged, a giggle slipped past your lips as his jaw dropped; an offended ‘ah’ slipping from his throat. 

“Sammy can’t get it, huh?” He questioned, a mischievous look gracing his face. You nodded, a crimson blush blooming across your cheeks as his gaze shifted; his once playful glance slowly lacing with lust.

“Yeah, there’s only a handful of things Sammy can’t get, seems to be a rare occurrence.” 

A low chuckle rumbled out of his chest as he pulled your arms up, resting your hands on his shoulders as he cupped your cheeks with his hands; squeezing them with enough force to cause your lips to pucker. You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped through your nose, eyes meeting his as he lunged forward, capturing your lips in a soft and sweet peck. He chuckled as he softened his grip on your cheeks, rubbing his nose against yours in an eskimo kiss. 

“You’re an absolute goof.” You mumbled, leaning forward to press your lips to Sam’s as you locked your hands behind his neck. His breath caught in his throat as he let his fingers ghost down your neck, sending a shiver through your body as he wrapped his arms around your middle; lifting you easily as he stood to his full height. 

Sam broke the kiss, leaning you back against the counter as he fixed his grip, hands cupping your bottom as he turned on his heel. You tightened your legs around him as a giggle slipped past your lips, resting your head in the junction where his shoulder meets his neck peppering soft kisses up the side of his neck. He swallowed thickly, kicking the bedroom door open. 

He made his way over to the bed, his hands slipping from your bottom up to the hem of your shirt as you slowly slid down him, ass softly hitting the bed. He pulled your shirt upwards, a giggle escaping you as you lifted your arms for him to rid you of your shirt completely. His eyes danced over your torso as he rid himself of his belt, the leather sliding smoothly against the denim of his jeans.   

“Wanna make it up to you for last night.” He mumbled, quickly pulling off his shirt and jeans and tossing them to the side to be completely forgotten. A giggle slipped past your lips as you moved backwards up the bed, your back quickly colliding with the headboard. His pupils were blown, watching intently as you shimmied your sweatpants down over the swell of your hips to your ankles, kicking them off the side of the bed. Sam couldn’t help but stare, taking in every inch of your body as he reached up, collecting all of his hair in his hand before quickly wrapping a hair tie around it. 

Sam crawled up the bed, eyes never leaving yours as he hooked his index fingers in the waistband of your underwear. He quirked an eyebrow, head tilting slightly to the side in a silent question. You reached down, threading your fingers through his hair scratching softly as his scalp in silent answer. In one swift move he had your underwear off of your legs and tossed off to the side, peppering kisses up the length of your inner thigh. 

His fingers slipped gently between your folds, sliding against the slick skin as his breath fanned across your core. His moves were tentative at first, the calloused pad of his finger dancing slowly around where it mattered most as he gauged your reaction. A satisfied smile slipped past his lips as your eyes fluttered shut, getting lost in the feeling as his fingers teased your entrance. He flattened his tongue against you, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue as he slowly pushed his middle finger into you. 

Your back arched off the bed at the sudden contact, mind reeling as he added a second finger; slowly pumping his hand his tongue worked on your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

A familiar pressure started to form in your stomach, tightening quickly as he continued to work your core, the noises spilling past your lips egging him on. His gaze found your face, the pleasure evident on your features as he slowly curled his fingers hitting the one spot that would send you over the edge. Your breath caught in your throat, legs snapping around his head of their own accord as you gripped the sheets beside you. 

“Sammy, please.” Your voice was strangled, back arching as he quickened his pace, a shiver running through him as your walls clenched around his fingers your orgasm threatening to overtake you. 

“Cum for me, show me how good I make you feel.” His voice was an octave deeper, lust dripping in his tone. He wrapped his lips around your clit once more sucking hard as he drove his fingers into your core, your orgasm finally crashing over you.

“Atta girl.” He mumbled, nipping at your inner thigh. A string of explicatives and his name falling from your lips as he helped you ride out your orgasm; relishing in the feeling of your walls contracting around his fingers. 

A satisfied giggle slipped past your lips and he crawled upwards, supporting himself on one forearm as he hovered over you, pressing his lips to yours as he tried to rid himself of his boxers with one hand.  Parting his lips he snaked his tongue out, running it along your bottom lip begging for more. You obliged, parting your lips slightly so his tinge could mingle with yours, tasting yourself on his tongue as a shiver shot down your spine.

He stroked himself a few times, slipping his dick between your folds to collect your wetness, lining himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed inside, gasps slipping past both of your lips as he bottomed out halting his movement as your body adjusted to him. His arms snaked their way under your ass, angling your hips in such a way to hit every spot you needed. 

“Okay, Lovey?” He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, index finger coming to rest under your chin as his thumb rubbed across your lips. You nodded, reaching up to thread your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Sam pulled his hips back slowly, teasing you with a few shallow thrusts before bottoming out again, the way your hips were angled giving him full access to that spot. Soft moans tumbled from your lips as he found his rhythm, deliciously slow as he rested his head against your shoulder. You hands coming up of their own accord, one tangling in the hair that fell from his bun at the nape of his neck as the other scratched down his back; a hiss escaping him as he sped up his movement. The sound of skin hitting against skin was all that could be heard over the whimpers that slipped past your lips. A low chuckle erupted from his chest as he turned his head, placing a soft kiss to the hollow below your ear. 

“M’not gonna last much longer, baby.” He mumbled, removing his arms from underneath your hips; resting his weight on one as his free hand danced across your hip, the calloused pad of his finger rubbing rough circles into your clit. 

“Sammy,” his name was a strangled whine, your back arching as the sudden attention he gave your clit sent shivers through your body. 

“Cum for me, pretty boy, wanna hear if I make you feel as good as you make me feel.” 

You knew as soon as the pet name slipped past your lips that he was done for. The growl that escaped his chest as he picked up his pace made you giggle, knowing full well how to press the right buttons. Your hands danced down his back, spreading your fingers wide to cover as much of it as you could before digging your nails into his skin. 

A deep moan of your name slipped past his lips as the movement of his hips became erratic, a shuddering breath fanning over the side of your neck as he connected his lips to you, riding out his orgasm. He collapsed on top of you, his face still buried against the side of your neck as he held his weight so he wasn’t fully crushing you, catching his breath. 

“So it’s like that, huh?” You cooed, twisting loose strands of his hair around your finger. He cackled in your ear, that absolutely ridiculous stoner sounding cackle you were so enamored with. 

“It’s always like that.” His voice was airy, dancing through your ear as he placed soft kisses to your neck, slowly removing himself from you before falling to the bed beside you. 

A sigh escaped you as you sat up, throwing your legs over the side of the bed quickly before standing and making your way to the bathroom to clean up. You could hear him humming in the other room as you gently wiped yourself down and shimmied into clean panties. 

“Are you coming to bed or are you dying in here?” He called, another cackle slipping past his lips as he made his way to the bathroom door, leaning against the frame as he watched you. Placing your hands on your hips you pursed your lips and turned to him, eyes dancing up his slim - and to your surprise still naked -body.

“Maybe I’ll stay here, I do hear a hot bath calling my name.” You giggled, cupping your hand to your ear as if listening intently. He crossed his arms over his chest, pushing his bottom lip out in a pout as he dropped his gaze, kicking the threshold. 

“Aw, Sammy.” You cooed, stepping forward as you wrapped your arms around his midsection, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him. He couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips as he nodded towards the bed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he started walking backwards. 

Laughter erupted from you both as he tripped over seemingly nothing, careening backwards and crashing onto the bed pulling you down on top of him. Pulling your legs up you straddled his hips, leaning down to press your lips to his in a sweet kiss as your giggles subsided. The look on his face when you sat back was suggestive, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he gripped your hips tightly. A sly ‘round two?’ slipping past his lips. 

[sunken-standard]

So I've been having a Very Bad Week

(as have many of you, I'm sure). Bad enough that I've been considering going to the 24hr mental health crisis center a few towns over (I won't, because I don't want the paper trail; once you sign the intake form it's an automatic 24hr psych hold and I don't want that on any kind of record because Nazis).

So Weds. I decided to switch therapists. I'd only talked to A. like three times I think, and I just wasn't feeling it. My last therapist, J., left the practice in August. Anyway, I called and they were able to get me an appointment with someone new Thursday morning, easy peasy, no grief at all for wanting to switch again so soon.

So I start my intake session with L., everything is normal (giving a very brief synopsis of my history and brain cooties and why I've had 5 therapists in 5 years [3 of them left! I'd still be talking to the very first one if he was still there!], blah blah). Then I say I'm really in crisis, thinking about going to the ER, whatever, and I mention it's because of the election.

I'm not going to lie or bullshit or whatever; my feelings and thoughts are why I'm in therapy in the first place and I shouldn't have to self-censor for anything (except admitting to crimes, but w/e). Anyway, this woman was like "I'm going to assume you voted for Harris?" (uh oh)

"I did."

"Well, mumble mumble, in the spirit of full discolsure, mumble mumble bullshit bullshit--"

"Did you vote for Trump?"

"Mumble mumble blah blah reluctance, yes I did."

"Oh that's all I need to know. Sorry, that's a dealbreaker for me." (I might have been a little clipped or curt, but I'm a blunt person and I don't waste time. I wasn't nasty or demeaning or anything, just completely honest.

"Oh, okay, I'll let the front office know and they'll call you back with a new appointment for someone else."

"Cool, thanks, Take care." All said politely, if a little coolly (compared to my normal customer service warmth; I would call it a baseline for most non-customer service people).

This was at 9:30 am. By 3:30 no one had called, so I figured I would (maybe they got swamped and then forgot, benefit of the doubt, whatever)

So I call. And I find out they decided to have the office manager call me on Monday because of how rude and abusive I was (????!!!!!) and they'd already come out to the reception area to warn all the other therapists of what kind of person I am.

What

The

Fuck

So this woman had lied and twisted everything around, said I told her to shut up, I insisted on knowing who she voted for, I was rude, all this kind of shit. And I can't prove a thing because nothing is recorded or whatever. So it's the professional's word against mine, known crazy person. I was so upset, I was crying on the phone and everything (and even worse, my voice got stupid so it sounded like fake crying, but I couldn't stop it or reign it in).

I made sure to give my side of things. I was very very clear that I never said "shut up" because I just don't talk like that in a professional relationship. I was also clear that she made it political by saying she assumed I voted Harris (which, let's be real, is the same as asking), and that I don't think it's unfair for me to ask the same and make a decision about my treatment based on that answer. Sorry if I don't want to be vulnerable in front of a person who actively voted against my rights as a human being ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So now I have to wait all weekend to see if I'm going to be dismissed from their care, meaning cut off from all my drugs (really don't give a shit about therapy, it doesn't work anyway).

I've mostly calmed down, but I took a lot more drugs than I'm supposed to in combinations I'm really not supposed to just to calm me down enough that I don't think I'm going to have a heart attack, throw up, or violently shit myself from my fight or flight response. (and it only took 27 hours of gross overmedicating to do so!)

Anyway, buckle up kids, this is the future now and this sure as shit ain't going to be an isolated incident.

[hananoami]

[Directional Orbit] Light - Stage 98 to 100

SM PROGRESS TODAY! Mondays' are Xavier's directional orbit days, so this would be a continuation of me working on my Deepspace Trials progression: Xavier edition. 3/3 daily allotted keys were available and used today. Here's my review of each stage.

Stage 98

This stage was giving me such a difficult time. The major difference between today's run through and yesterday's attempts are some memory levels in my team set up. [Unique Aftertaste] + [Tender Night] + [Heartstrings Symphonies] increased from level 60 to 70. I was hoping with higher leveled memories and an increase in their base ATK stats I would be able to burn down the frenzied wanderer faster. Did it help? Yeah, I guess a bit. Was it still just as frustrating to do? Of course it was. The targeting system in this game is terrible imo. Every time I tried to switch to the frenzied wanderer my target went to everything except the one that I needed to focus on... Originally I was using Luminescence Blade, but Xavier's thicc body kept blocking some of my attacks when we collided. Single target attacks weren't helping me if I couldn't target the right wanderer. So I realized maybe I should switch to something that has AOE aka the Hunter's Wand. Sure, the Hunter's wand doesn't do as much damage compared to the Luminescence Blade, but honestly that didn't matter to me. As long as I am able to actually hit my target(s) I'm fine with that. Being able use AOE damage since I'm bad at switching targets was what helped me clear this fight. Who knows, maybe it'll help out someone else in the future too. Take away of this story? If one weapon doesn't work, step back out and go down the list to try them all. Surely one of them will work.

Stage 99

This stage also required 5 amber in its Protofield Stellactrum. I used the same team set up as Stage 98, so nothing changed for this trial. Honestly, I think this one was easier than 98 because I was able to auto battle it in one attempt.

Stage 100

AHH~ XAVIER'S DIRECTIONAL ORBIT: LIGHT - STAGE 100 DOWN! I'll do a more in-depth post with my clear video, team set up and stat attributes later. A link will be edited/posted here once that is live at at later time.

[horce-divorce]

Update for interested parties: the last few days were frought, the situation in Wisconsin was not what we had hoped it would be at all once we got here, and it ended up not working out. Too many people with not enough space and too many clashing needs. it ended up feeling very unsafe for everyone.

We're staying with a different friend instead now, and today their mom/owner of the property not only said we could stay here for the winter if we need to, but also was scheming to try and find us a pop-up trailer this morning which we were totally blown away by, she's wonderful. We still want the kind of mobility where we could take off again at a moments notice, so I'm sorting that out, but we're with friends and thankfully not in a rush to leave again anytime soon.

i'm not sure if a camper is what we'll end up with. It isn't quite as stealthy as i'd like (if we need to urban camp at all it doesnt really work), but it would certainly add a lot of space and be more than doable, and Bel really liked the idea. If that doesn't work out, I'll look at trading our current vehicle for a used camper van in a comparable price range. I've never done that before but I have time to do research.

Thanks to the donations this week, we were able to fill the tank and get Bels meds on the way out here, which was such a huge relief. That gives us at least another month to try to find a prescriber for another refill. We also got a great haul from the food pantry out here, which was fun because the lady we're staying with actually runs it and it's inside an abandoned building.

the pantry was already in the building when it wasn't abandoned. my friend's mom took it over and was allowed to keep it in its original space, but everyone else moved out. My friend had the keys, so they took us in thru the back and this series of totally unlit, crowded corridors with random appliances, furniture, books and clothes, all of it donated. it was one of the most surreal experiences I've ever had. I asked to go back to take more pictures, which is why the 2nd pic is lit better.

Their house is also really cool. It's an old farmhouse, much bigger, with fewer people here, and we have a proper room upstairs rather than in an unfinished basement. there's a super comfy bed in here, too. I actually haven't had back pain in the morning here, for the first time since my surgery in May!

Also, absolutely wild shit in the world of drugs: nary a weed dealer to be found in this area, because delta 8 has completely taken over the market. I was deeply unimpressed when I tried it a few years ago, but my friend got us a live resin hhc/cbd/cbg/thcp cartridge and........... I am stoned. Like PROPERLY stoned. I haven't been this properly stoned since like 2013. It does kinda give me a headache, but it also helps the pain and gives me munchies and helps me sleep just like real weed. I even remembered my dreams a bit better than with d9.

Anyway I'm very grateful for my queer community today, for my friends mom who has come to my rescue more times than my own mom, and for everyone who's been invested, sending us money, advice, locations to scope out, items, and links; everyone who's been reblogging; and even everyone who's just listening to us talk and post, watching quietly from the sidelines.

We still have to go retrieve the rest of our stuff from the last place (on Monday), and things always change in an instant. We still have a lot of complex feelings, and this week was especially hard for Bellamy. He's never been through all this before this year, and the 19th was the anniversary of his worst trauma, losing the only good and loving person in his life 6 years ago. To be kicked out specifically on that anniversary was brutal. it made me wish I'd never brought him here. I really thought we'd be better off with that friend than on our own for the winter, and I made a mistake.

But we will still be okay. For now, we aren't alone, we're with good friends in a safe place, we've got food and meds and gas. We even have another place to stay if we change our minds. We check in with each other and process our feelings multiple times per day. It's still hard to get used to coming and going all the time; we stay in one place just long enough to get comfy and then we take off again, which is never long enough form a routine. So we're trying to learn how to do that for ourselves, based on our own needs, rather than around the location. But we're getting used to that, and each other's habits. When I go out to the car for supplies it smells like home in there.

It's hard feeling like we don't belong anywhere, like strangers care more about our wellbeing than our actual families. My dad did give us the car, and six months of insurance. He even renewed my license for me. But neither of my parents checks in on me, asks where we are or how we're doing. My mom seems to be getting more reactionary in her old age; not only did my transition cause a rift between us, she's now doubling down on trying to "cure" my autistic cousin when she knows that for both of us (and for Bel), our autism is a source of pride. She knows my disabilities and neurodivergence are what started this housing instability 10 years ago. She knows my health has been worsening. She doesn't text or call. All of you following this story on here know more about how and where we are than she does.

But times like this show us who our real friends and family are, and it's not the people who've left us to our own devices out here. It's everyone who's been stepping in to ask, "How are you doing? Can I send you anything? Do you need to talk? I love you. I want you to make it." The random guy we met hiking who never told us his name but who told us, "I hope you guys thrive. I really do." It's everyone who's sent us another $10 for our supplies because I haven't spent long enough in one spot to get any work done. It's the people who have never even met us before who offered to take Bel's cats indefinitely, or to let us come stay with them across the country. It's everyone who's pitching together to buy us more time when we need it. Everyone who sees us and bears witness and feels something about it.

At the end of the day, we sort of are choosing this lifestyle; if we wanted out, we would have to stay in one place longer than winter, get jobs, save money, find our own housing. But we kind of don't. Despite the hardships, despite what this journey is revealing about ourselves and the people we thought we could trust, we feel like it suits us to live out of the car. We go where we want, when we want. We don't have to answer to anyone else's schedule. If we want to go south or west when it's cold and visit our friends, all we need is the gas money and the OK to come over. We love the woods and we love living out there. It feels distant and lonely sometimes, but so right. We like getting to bounce around and meet each other's people. We want to see the old growth and the redwoods and the mountains and the seaside and the grand canyon. We want to go to Cuba and Vietnam and Iceland and Denmark. Maybe our health won't allow for us to do absolutely everything we want, but working underpaid jobs and paying rent absolutely won't allow for it. We have a better chance at our dreams now. We can lose our place to stay again and be fine and just keep going; it's not the end of the world. It's what we planned on doing, anyway. No big deal.

Living in the car has already allowed us to do more and have more adventures in just 3 months than we did in 2 whole years of us both being housed. We do have a lot to process emotionally and there's a lot on our plates; it's hard, and we do need a lot of help. It's not always good. Not having access to the internet when we're running out of money and gas and food; not having anywhere to bathe; having to go long distances to collect water even when we're not feeling well; losing things because i put them in the wrong place and drove off; that doesn't even begin to scratch on converting the car for stealth camping, choosing our routes and places to scope for campsites in new areas, or trying to figure out which supplies would actually be more helpful and cost effective in the long run.

But it's still not really any worse than the rat race to stay employed and be good renters. It's just different. And after 10 years of housing instability, and waiting for something to change, it hasn't. I'm growing more and finding more peace by just leaning into it. Trauma and bullshit never ends. Life doesn't ever stop for you so you can think about what just happened; there's never gonna be a perfect, calm time for you to digest everything and then move on strengthened and changed for the next main event. You have to learn how to do all that and keep living no matter what bullshit is ongoing. That's what "rolling with the punches" means. The punches dont stop, you learn to expect them, you move with them. I cant put my life on hold just because I'm homeless. It's not stopping me from doing the things I want. It's not stopping me from being the kind of guy I aim to be, or from making the kinds of choices i want. My life before did that.

Tl;dr thank you for all your help and concern this week, we made it to a different space and are taking some time to breathe. We are feeling more than a bit bruised, this week has been awfully triggering, but we also feel very held right now and we have space to calm down. For another few days at least, it's gonna be okay.

✨️🛸✌️

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2023-07-24

Back in the saddle.

Listening: I am not a huge fan of true crime, not because I find the subject distasteful but because the way people go about it grates on me as an annoying blend of unrealistic fearmongering and misinformed wannabe vigilanteism. I do however also admit that I haven't really engaged with true crime in many years, so I asked my brother to recommend his favourite true crime podcast or whatever and he pitched me on My Favourite Murder.

Starting from E1, I've been through two or three episodes. Mostly my opinions continue to hold true, every now and again one of the hosts says something that is the kind of batshit thing normal people say about crime and it blows a fuse in my head. I will stick to it long enough to form a real opinion.

Reading: Finished Seven Surrenders, on the train back from Zurich, this morning. Once again I immediately want to start the next book, I'll probably buy The Will to Battle after this posts.

The world of Terra Ignota is so engaging to read about, it's big but with a tiny cast, futuristic and archaic. It must have been so hard to pull off these reveals and ideas without them just seeming kind of stupid because on the face of it, they are.

Watching: Nothing, I've been traveling until this morning.

Making: Made a cool tomato/chickpea/coconut curry based on Adam Ragusea's recipe, modified for scale, what I have available and my tastes, which included use canned chickpeas, frozen green beans, swapping tomatillos for small vine tomatoes, and working with my usual spice blends.

Oh, I also completely ignored the step of passing the sauce through a sieve because I've been eating the cheapest prepared bakery sandwiches I can find while traveling for the past week and I feel like I need to eat a lot of whole vegetables this week.

The application of very heavily browned vegetables is a nice trick, and with the addition of sugar and coconut cream makes for a very pleasant and rich flavour even though I kind of overshot the chili heat because I'm still not used to the extra-hot chili powder I have now.

Playing: Nothing, due to The Travel.

Tools and Equipment: I gotta pitch the 1kg or less laptop. I've mentioned Calcite, my personal laptop, plenty of times, but this past week of traveling has really shown how handy something this light is. Calcite complete with my 65W GaN charger and various dongles lived in my backpack as I hoofed it around several cities and it was so light that I barely noticed.

It's worth it to be able to use a full size computer when trying to compare accommodation and travel arrangements on the go, rather than trying to fiddle it out on a phone, but if your laptop weighs much more than a kilogram it can quickly become a slog to carry around.

Calcite is a 13 inch HP Envy x360, but the new 14-inch model and the HP Pavilion Aero 13's are both really good and relatively affordable compact laptops that I recommend frequently to people who want light laptops. Lenovo makes their 13 inch family of thinkpads but they're much more upmarket. If cost is no object there's of course ultralights like the LG Gram, and ultracompacts like the Onemix One Netbook 4.

If we're honest, an iPad would probably fit this role well, but I don't have one of those.

[taegularities]

Rid I've been meaning to come to your inbox to scream about Jungkook's concert the second it ended but I had things to do 😤😤😤

But now I'm here and this man!!!!!!! He's so talented and cool and cute and army's best friend fr!! I loved how the concert felt like his weverse lives, the way he was chatting with the audience and trying to hear what they have to say as well 🥺🥺🥺 And then don't get me started on the encore songs, I sobbed so so hard and it felt cathartic, like just what I needed. I also couldn't stop tearing up afterwards every time I would think about him because of all the love I felt 😔😔😔

And don't get me started on the gcf video 😭😭😭😭 Jungkook vlogging always has such boyfriend vibes but this!!!!!! this!!!!!! The motorbike helmets???? And the sanrio plushie?????? And then he FILMS HIMSELF WORKING OUT SHIRTLES AND SHOWERING?!?!!?!!??? I swear I have so many thots thoughts in my head about that... Whyyyyy does he have to be so hot and know it? Why does he have to be such an exhibitionist lmaoooo.

Anyway this might sound delulu but I swear every time I start thinking about a guy irl too much, Jungkook does something like this that makes me not able to think about anything but him lol 😭😭😭

Sorry for dropping this rant lol but clearly this man is making me have a lot of thoughts as always. I hope you're doing well Rid, and that this insanity has been a welcome distraction from anything bad that might be going on, I know it has been for me. Love youuuu 💞💕💞💕💞💕

IVI!! damn all the things we have to do!! i got so lucky with that live bc mondays are my free days (from work) and i caught the entire showcase right before my online class!! but GAWD, wasn't it a masterpiece?!

it truly felt like chatting with him, but with him occasionally breaking out into songs to serenade us 🥺 did you see the way he looked at the audience during the tender love songs?! or when he sang still with you? oh my god, i've never seen this much affection and so many stars in someone's eyes :( jungkook oozes kindness.. how he spoke to armys. so cautiously, like he's handling us with care? but then, he's also such a dork?! telling a WHOLE STADIUM not to talk at once bc he can't hear them 🤣 the effort to listen to as many as possible, though 🤍

oh god, i don't even wanna talk about how much i cried during and after still with you (yes, i do though). idk what happened exactly, but i couldn't stop crying for a good while and am tearing up even now, and it's been 2 days LOL. he's my comfort person fr. like, he's everything good in the world and it hurts so much that i can't tell him and give him all the love i have for him specifically, does that make sense? sigh.

NO BUT THEN AGAIN, THE GCF WAS SOOOO WRONG OF HIM!!! i can't physically deal with whatever tf happened in there?! the saNRIO PLUSHIE?! the way i'd swoon if my partner brought that home. the gd helmets... like... wbk but........ and just the vibe in general, the entire video was so bf. the bit of him with his hair combed to the side/back and the black oversized shirt, and him taking his chain off. cemented in my brain. will drown and die in that very moment ::( i love him sm ivi, what do we do with all that affection i don't understand hwjfksidhs. and i get it omg. everyone just fades compared to him, and i'm starting to get worried about it lol 😭 he's like the crush one keeps coming back to. but also, a guy irl huh 👀

i'm glad you found distraction in this, love. i definitely did, too. today's a bit rough though, so i gotta ask, how are you doing? in general and regarding the announcement, have you been feeling okay? if not, then here's a hug, and we'll live through this together and i'm here to rant anytime 🫂 i love you, iviiii 🤍

[dansnaturepictures]

Focus on seeing Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers at Acres Down in the New Forest 26/02/2023

A week ago, after not seeing one here on an afternoon visit on a day off work the Monday prior, we did our usual Sunday in reverse. To help with being back in time and ready to watch our football team Man United in what would be a triumphant League Cup final, alone making it an amazing day and pivotal one in my year, we tried something likely to be more successful for trying to see the Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers that had been seen a lot here and headed for the forest to be there at 8am. Taking a further walk to Shatterford in the morning. 

It certainly did work as to make it quite a perfect day, alongside a surprise couple of Crossbills the first for the year for us and other great birds seen, we saw the Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers. On arrival it was wonderful to be out on a slightly frosty morning in the relative wilderness and the calm of the New Forest I do want to do more early morning birdwatching as it’s just such a precious time to be out waking up with the day and I feel focused and appreciative of my surroundings in those early hours, and after a few cloudy mornings as hoped the sun was out which lifts such an occasion instantly. After hearing Lesser Spotted Woodpecker drumming we took a bit of a blow though when we arrived to a group of people looking at the distinctive bare tree the woodpeckers come to, as they said one had just flown off. Were we too late? 

The soft caressing drumming of the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, compared to the harder firm sound of Great Spotted Woodpecker which we also heard that morning, piped up from behind us and wondering if this might be a quick sighting type day of this species which I’d have taken as we had at nearby Millyford Bridge on an early March morning last year we investigated. I was thrilled to spot a Lesser Spotted Woodpecker briefly, my Mum got onto it too and we’d seen it. Then it flew towards the bare tree and landed on it once more. We would enjoy two luxurious bouts of seeing a Lesser Spotted Woodpecker on the bare tree in the golden early sunlight, the first of which there was another around behind it on the tree and we saw the birds chasing each other through a nearby tree. My Mum’s partner, usually lagging behind us when out as he has some mobility issues made it and saw one too. I was in my element as we watched these striking and elusive birds with their keyboard and ladder black and white markings and the male’s alluring red cap. It was a pleasure to take photos with both my DSLR and bridge camera, of the five times I’ve now been so lucky to see these brilliant birds I’ve photographed them three times now and this is the first time I’ve ever managed it in the sun which really pleased me. 

This will go down as one of my birdwatching moments of the year, and I was so thrilled to get it so soon after all the euphoria of the Norfolk trip and in a strong run of birds for me. I have told the story before about how this is a bird I dreamed of seeing from my early birding days due to my love of woodpeckers and there became such a quality goal about it being something unattainable for so long making it so sweet when we did see one. Then when we first ever did see one I spotted it first and I’ve always seemed to be able to predict when we might see them. Every single time I am so fortunate enough to see one of them it never loses that magic for me, and I feel I have seen a glorious bird of my dreams. To have seen one three years in a row now is amazing. As my last post rounding up my week mentioned it was such a woodpecker week with three species seen in three days at the start of it so this sighting felt right at the core of my woodpecker love. I loved spotting it first once more too. It was good to chat to so many fellow watchers including two men we’ve seen at places before. This was a Sunday of sensational moments in a place close to my heart, with a bird species equally so on a very successful day for me which made me smile so much. 

[0daytrick0]

Week one update for work

It's been a week so far. The days are definitely going quicker. And it's been alot to take on.

As of Monday I have taken up a reliever role within the hospital within administration, surgical and theatre. I spent Monday and Tuesday getting a feel for the place. Understanding how the programs work and fullfilling my mandatory modules. Today I spent the whole day in administration completing patient paper work and organising apointments. Let me just say this... I know we all hate how much paperwork we have to fill out when we go into the hospital, but it's NOTHING compared to the amount of paperwork I have to fill out for each individual wanting to book an appointment. Don't get me started on the program we use! It's probably older than your grandma and is in a desperate need of updating and revamping. The program used to fill out for patients is literally straight out of a fallout game. The program is so ancient and tedious. So much time AND money could be saved if someone just paid someone to upgrade it. Cause GODDAMN MAN. I can't just click a box to fill it in, I gotta go through a whole procedure just to get there. And if I need to go back on a mistake. I CANT. Not untill I've filled the rest of the document out and reached the bottom. Then it will allow me to go back to what I missed. It's just so dumb and it's literally the only thing that's holding me back from learning.

Anywho! I could probably go on forever about it, but I will continue on. My life at the moment has been busy. My younger sibling graduated highschool and my family dog passed away i last week. An emotional week to say the least.

But in good news I have finally learnt how to use make-up. I used to HATE foundation, but with the help of a friend to colour match and watching an ASMR artist so her makeup, I have taught myself how to apply foundation, bronzer, blush and highlights. Now when I work at the hospital I can look the part.

I am currently obsessed with buying new stuff for work. I have this bag I really want to purchase but currently do not have the funds for it. It's called Julie Vintage Vegan Briefcase bag. It looks perfect and would suit my job so much!! At the moment the bag I have is just a cheap shein tote bag and it is terrible at holding all of my things. It was perfect for retail but terrible for the hospital. I also desire to purchase a phone case, pencil case, some notebooks and of course a cool lenyard for my hospital ID. NattyKat currently have some really cool lenyards. Redbubble currently has these really witchy phone covers, notebooks and pencil cases. I don't get paid for at least 2 and a bit weeks from now, so it will have to wait until then...

In other news I am officially a CQU student. I was accepted into central Queensland University as of last week and I couldn't be happier. I still have to enroll and pick my subjects but I should get an email next week helping me with all of that. I will once again be back on track to do a bachelor of psychological science and HOPEFULLY (with my job in the hospital) I will be able to get a position within mental health once my contracts ends next March. That's the goal at least!

Today I went grocery shopping after work and went way over budget. It's frustrating but I needed food for work. I can't just eat what's in the fridge or eat nothing at all with all the brain power I'm using. I will hopefully be getting a massive paycheck when I do get paid, so fingers crossed it's okay I splurged a little.

My 21sr birthday is coming up next weekend and I am planning on going camping and taking my 4wd out for the first time. It's been getting worked on since I bought it but fingers crossed it will be fixed enough by next weekend so I can actually take it out. I currently do not have a car and it's been frustrating to say the least. But soon, everything will hopefully fall into place since I now have an income on-top of my partner. As let me tell yah, living on one income whilst living in your own is just not doable for a long period of time. Trying to buy car parts in between all of that just barely making it to get food on the table. I can't believe we did it as long as we did. But you gotta do what you gotta do I guess.

As of right now it is 9.10pm and I am planning to get up at 5am tomorow morning to get ready for work at 7.00am. I got my period tonight so I will have no choice but to take a quick shower tomorow morning before getting dressed and doing my makeup and hair. My hair ATM is in DESPERATE need of a healing transformation. It's is so dead and untamed that doing it in the morning is a suicide mission for my arms and back. It's super curly and notty and messy. The humidity from the summer rain is not helping at the moment either. I might plan to straighten it on the weekend so I can make my life a little easier next week. A high ponytail with straight hair would do everyone a favour.

Anywho. I definitely need to go to bed now. Wish me luck on actually falling asleep when my mind is racing as fast as it is

[purplesurveys]

1723

What happened last night? Celeste and I were stuck in Pasay after a private exhibit viewing (work-related) because I absolutely refused to traverse EDSA during rush hour on a Monday, so we killed some time by doing work in my car, then we had dinner at this Chinese restaurant where she taught me how to eat xiaolongbao. We killed some more time there then I drove her and myself home, and we had another one of the heart-to-hearts that would usually happen when she and I are together.

Who is the last boy you hugged? I can't remember. It must have been my dad when I bid goodbye to him while dropping him off at the airport.

What was the last thing you thought? How excited I am to see SE SO NEON. I impulsively bought tickets the second I learned they're coming to Manila this November, but it actually stopped feeling so impulse-y when I made the purchase because I genuinely want to see them. It'll be my first indie gig though so I'm kind of nervous...I imagine I'd just be vibing at the very back. I feel like the front would be filled with much younger kids hahah.

What are you thinking about right now? Well, ^ that. Aren't they essentially the same question?

Would you have sex with the last person you sent a message to? No I think she inconvenienced me enough times today for me to ever entertain that thought.

Would you consider yourself spoiled? When we were younger I definitely felt the sense that I was more spoiled compared to my siblings, but it was always being spoiled for a valid reason – in that they'd get me a book I want or a gadget I've been eyeing if my grades were kept high.

These days, my siblings and I are all adults, and we barely get 'spoiled' anymore; it's been our turn to give back, so to speak.

What was the last text you sent? I just sent back a 'thank you too!'

Do you break things when you are mad? Never. I don't get violent when I'm mad because I've seen other people be exactly that when they're angry and I've always hated it.

Whose hoodie did you last wear besides your own? My sister's.

Did something happen today that made you angry? Yeah. I had this media crew shoot a program segment on the exhibit I've been handling on behalf of my client, and out of the crews I've worked with so far for this thing, they gave me the biggest headache. They were unprepared with their script, the assigned reporter was unsure what to say and had no clue how he was going to be shot (he was also LATE), and the cameramen were so inconsiderate of the paying guests (blocking their view, asking them to move so they can get their desired frame) I had to tell them off a million times to NOT do that and to fuck off from any customer who actually paid money to see the show.

There's also a room in the exhibit where the visuals are timed from start to end, so once you're in you can't get out, in the same way that you won't be let in if you're late. Anyway, this crew decides this is the perfect time to shoot a frame of the reporter walking into the room, but both the dude and the camera guys took SO FUCKING LONG to get their shot that the exhibit staff just closed the doors on them, and I had to tell the crew that they were going to have to wait 30 minutes for the next viewing.

I specifically mapped out my schedule today so that they can end by noon and I can drive back home to make it to my 1 PM meeting on time, but because they missed that part of the show they had to do the entire exhibit all over again. A big chunk of my time then got wasted and I had to take my meeting in the car. -___- I feel bad that I was clearly visibly irritated the entire time...but c'mon. Don't act like VVVVVIPs when we've bent over backwards this whole time to accommodate you on short notice.

What did you do today? I spent 3.5 hours in traffic just to get to ^ that shoot, went home immediately as I was sick of working outdoors (which I've been doing since Friday), then worked at 10x speed to be able to catch up on work that had been piling up since this morning. After work I bought tickets for SE SO NEON and now I'm eating this really really delicious burger from Wendy's.

What did you do Friday night? I was actually monitoring a media crew's shoot for the same exhibit, just for a different show. After that I was stuck in traffic for an offensive amount of time which I felt bad for my Grab driver about and just gave him a massive tip as both a sorry and thanks. I can't remember what I did after... I think I slept early that night - around midnight - because that entire week had left me really exhausted.

Are you afraid of losing the last person you talked to? Mhm. I'm starting to get that feeling of dread more as I get older, too.

Are you lying to yourself about something? Let's go with a yes. I'm slowly coming to terms with what I know to be true, though.

Is your bed comfortable? As a bed it is, but it's a loft bed so I don't have an electric fan in front of me and so it gets really hot and uncomfortable when the weather isn't cooperating. These days I've been sleeping on my foldout sleeping bags positioned below the bed because at least I have an electric fan in this area.

Does it take a lot to make you happy? When I'm already pissed or uncomfortable, yes; but otherwise it is fairly easy to entertain me and make me smile.

Your best friend says to you now, “lets go to a party and get trashed!”? I'll be more surprised that came from her because she's mostly chilled out these days and I'm the friend who's always down to drink and be loud. Anyway, if it's RIGHT NOW right now, I'd probably say yes but I'd negotiate to go somewhere quieter as I need to go to the office tomorrow and it's not the best time to get 'trashed' LOL.

Who knows mainly all of your secrets? Are you still reading this? Then that person would be you. Haha

Can you go a day without thinking about the person that’s on your mind now? I'm not thinking about anyone.

What were you doing at 1 in the morning? Painstakingly trying to sleep. I had a particularly strong cup of coffee yesterday and the caffeine only kicked in the moment I was in bed, as if it did it on purpose.

If someone looked ON your bed, what would they find? Just my comforter and my BT21 plushies. Like I said, I've been sleeping in my sleeping bags these days so my pillows and blanket are here with me below my actual bed.

Were you single over last summer? Yes.

Has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes? Not my eyes, but I've had people compliment my eyelashes because they're suuuperrr long. Also why I've never needed to put on mascara.

Have you ever been awake for 48 hours straight? I highly doubt that. I would 100% be cranky beyond belief, and I hate being in that state because it's always embarrassing afterwards.

How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over? My dad, my grandpa, Nacho.

When you think of the rainbow, what pops in your head? Pride.

Is the person you last texted single? No idea, I only met her today.

Was last night terrible? Not terrible, but very exhausting.

[calamityandme]

Oh man, so update: our AC is officially broken again? Never was fixed really from last time, but was cooler because it wasn’t as hot the past couple days? Who knows.

Our landlord is going to get us a new AC unit either Friday or Monday. Until then, he has leant us a couple box fans to help get air circulating.

It sucks that the house is 83 F. It blows that we have a few more days of this. However, I feel content at the moment.

I’m laying in bed with two fans going at once in my proximity. One large box fan blowing hot air outside, another smaller fan blowing air directly on my face. It’s magical.

Not only do I feel cooler than yesterday, we were given food today! I worked this morning and my boss/friend “S” gave us some of their frozen meals they wouldn’t eat.

We have food! I feel very loved and fortunate. So fortunate to have people in my life who can give me their old food they don’t want or just help me out in ways they don’t realize. It saves us money that we can put directly to paying bills so it means so much.

I want to be a figure like that for other people. Someone who shows love with food and little gifts that make people feel seen and heard. I hope I’m not a charity case sort of friend that people feel forced to give things to me.

I want to return the favor when we are in a better place. Maybe I will bake some things for my friends that helped me out.

Another development, my partner has to get a letter from his old employer stating he hasn’t worked there since January haha. It’s the only thing holding us back from approval to take care of two big bills. One bill we have an impending disconnect notice.

It’s annoying but at least it’s something we can get hopefully soon. We need to get it to them by the end of this week. Fingers crossed his old work is quick with the letter.

I got to eat lunch (my breakfast but at lunch time) with R and her daughter S before I went back home. We ate Culver’s. It’s a very American fast food restaurant. So much cheese, very buttery/greasy buns, but once you try it once you’ll keep coming back.

I got onion rings and a double butter burger. I ate my rings and a couple bites of my burger before deciding to save the rest of it for my next meal. Even though I knew I had food at home I found myself doing it instinctively. Not a bad habit I guess. Leftovers are great.

Now it’s been a couple hours since I got off work and I am still not sure how to spend my time.

Our internet is shut off (not a priority compared to utilities so we’ll pay it once everything else is okay) so I can’t watch anything on a TV, but I can watch media on my phone. My service isn’t the best so sometimes the show or movie I’m watching will buffer for a couple minutes at a time. I can survive lol.

I’ll find something to occupy my time. Maybe another cold bath. I’ll listen to my audiobook from the library.

I’m currently listening to one of my favorites: The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender. I listen to it on my phone through Libby the library app. I’m 26% through it. I’ve read it many times but have never actually finished it. I’m hoping to finish it this time.

Update: It’s 85 F at 8 PM lol. I was cool at points when it was closer to 81, but now I am rough. I’m sticky. Humidity has taken my hair and won’t let go. Landlords said they may be able to come over tomorrow to at least start the AC process

[sinswithpleasure]

The Playgirl (ft. LOONA's Yves) [Part 2] [Female Reader]

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

Hello! I'm back with part 2!

Futa!Yves x Fem Reader, just in case ya forgot.

If you prefer, this is also on AO3 and AFF!

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

Yves shows up on time for tutoring, to your surprise.

"Hey baby."

"Don't 'baby' me."

"Sure. Let's start."

"Alright. Open up the textbook. We're starting from the basics. I've printed out some of the prerequisites for this topic, since what you did last time wasn't up to standard due to lack of practice of the basics. Now…"

Yves listens attentively. In fact, things go a bit too smoothly for the both of you. Yves doesn't make any cheeky quip, pull out any pet names, or flirt with anyone that passes by. The womanizing playgirl you knew disappears, and in its place is a focused, dedicated young woman. Sometimes, you even find yourself staring at her work on the problems in front of her. The change is… welcome, to say the least.

Your eyes roam Yves's styled hair, swiped back to expose her forehead, down to her beautiful large eyes, button nose, and full lips.

God, you're gay. Sure, you're literally admiring the beauty of the most insufferable bane of the universe, but you're just so fucking gay and hot people are hot, no matter how irritating they are, so...

When your eyes shift back up, you're met with Yves's smirk.

"See something you like, babe?"

Fuck.

"N-no."

"Liar."

"Fuck off." You rush to change the subject. "How're you doing?"

"I've been done for a while. You would know if you weren't spending the time looking at me."

You refuse to dignify her with a response, checking through the solved problems. With your coaching, Yves manages to get two more questions correct as compared to last time, but she still makes some simple mistakes.

"Okay, here's the issue. In question two…"

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

Yves continues to show up for every tutoring session. Somehow, a week passes by, and it is now Friday.

"Good afternoon, babygirl."

"Don't 'babygirl' me. How many times do I have to say it?"

"Mm, whatever. How're you doing?"

"Why do you care?"

Yves pulls out the chair next to you, leaning back on it, resting her legs on the table. She turns to you, grinning.

"Of course I'd care! You're my tutor, and if you don't feel good, you won't be able to teach me properly. If I don't get taught, I won't learn, then I'll fail, and I don't get to win. You know that I always win."

"I'm not sleeping with you."

"That's what you say, but not what you mean."

"Fuck you."

"That's what you'll be doing in five months' time."

"No I won't. Bring out the Calc textbook. We're going through Chapter 4 today."

"Alright, babygirl."

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

The change in Yves becomes apparent when she somehow is present earlier than you on Monday morning.

"Yves?"

"Oh, hey babe."

You sigh at the pet name, but having heard her call you that for quite some time now, it doesn't grind your gears as much anymore.

"Don't 'babe' me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Yves returns her attention to the papers she is working on, and the familiar math problems catch your eye.

"Calc?"

"Yeah. I promised I'll be the best student. Here I am."

"We'll see about that."

"You're looking at it right now." Yves rises from her chair, and in a flash, she has her arm around your waist, her face inches from yours. "I'm going to win, babygirl."

"G-Get off me!" Your face reddens instantly at the close proximity of your lips to hers. Memories of the chaste kiss Yves planted take front and center stage, and you can't help but look away from Yves.

"You're so pretty."

Yves has her gaze locked on your lips, then to your eyes. She is so close, too close, even. Heat flashes all over your body—every touch Yves leaves on you seems to burn.

"I mean it. You're gorgeous."

"T-Thank you."

The smug smirk never leaves Yves's face. She releases you from her smoldering gaze and grip, but she leaves you with a rapidly beating heart and a large distraction for the day to come.

When class begins, Yves tries to take the time to listen to the professor. However, she is soon back to her old ways, flicking paper balls at classmates and being on her phone more than she listens.

"Yves."

"Yeah, baby?" She meets your gaze, her tongue darting out to moisten her dry lips. Her hands carry on working on moulding another tiny paper ball.

"You're not listening."

"I am!"

"What was the last thing the prof said?"

"Um…"

You roll your eyes.

"Best student, my ass."

"I made that promise to you, not to him."

"You won't learn if you don't listen to him either. How're you going to be the best if you can't even do that?"

"Oh, so that's how it is?"

"That's right." You think hard about the words you want to say next, but maybe… maybe it is worth the risk. After all, Yves is still the bane of your existence, but she could be less of that if she keeps up her effort in trying to learn.

"You don't get to fuck me if you're not the best."

You watch as Yves freezes. She stares at you, her jaw hanging, before she steels her gaze to your eyes, staring deep into your soul.

"So this is how you wanna play, babygirl?"

"Yeah." You can feel your bravado slowly disappearing.

"Fine. I'll listen. I'll play by your rules."

Yves leans to your ear, her breath sending shivers down your spine. Her deep whisper makes you shudder.

"You will be mine at the end of the year, baby. I promise you: I'll ace my exams, and you'll love me for it."

Perhaps provoking your seatmate wasn't the best idea. Now you have to deal with the deep flush on your face and neck, as well as the heat between your legs.

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

A month passes.

Every week, the same things go by—tutoring, classes, more tutoring, more classes. However, what changes is how close you and Yves get with each other. By no means were the both of you friends, but she isn't as much of a thorn in your side anymore.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Baby

I need a bit more help with the math from the last chapter.

Can I see you this weekend?

Saturday, 10am, Seoul U entrance?

[You sent a message:]

Sure.

I'll see you.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Good.

Dress nicely, baby. It's a date.

[You sent a message:]

Fuck off.

You groan when Yves manages to charm you through text. Outfit ideas are already flowing through your head, and you sink your face into the comfort of your palms. Why do you even care about looking pretty for Yves?⁶

Well… that genuine grin she flashed after a muffled gasp of surprise when you wore a dress once in the past month was gorgeous on her. That was why.

You remember Yves actually having the slightest hint of a blush when looking at you, and she seemed to be a little less flirty that day, opting to take short glances at you when she thought you weren't watching. This newfound attention was… welcome. You couldn't deny feeling shy having Yves check you out. After all, you were just the nerd girl in class, and having this attention from a hot girl you could consider a crush not as much of a pain in your ass felt so good.

-----

Saturday arrives, and here you are, waiting outside Seoul University.

You choose to keep things simple: just a simple button-down dress with daisies printed on the fabric. Your hair is tied up in a cute bun. The pink backpack you carry completes the look, with a nice pair of flats.

The sun isn't too bright, and a cool breeze keeps you comfortable while waiting. You can't help but get nervous, though you know it is irrational to feel so. After all, this is just another study session. However, Yves's text to you earlier in the week keeps flashing across your eyes.

'Dress nicely, baby. It's a date.'

You know this is just a study session. However, a part of you dimly wishes that it isn't, before you hurriedly bash those thoughts with a hammer and then set them on fire.

The revving of a motorbike catches your attention before it zooms down the road. You can see the bike move across the lanes, then slowing to a stop in front of you. The rider, clad in all black leather, complete with jacket and boots, seems to freeze in front of you, before slowly drawing the helmet off their head.

"Hey, babygirl."

Yves grins at you, her eyes sweeping over your body. Her gaze lands on your legs, moving up to your torso, your chest, and then to your eyes and hair.

The next words she mutters are meant to be kept to herself, but you hear her anyway.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Your heart takes off, pounding against your chest. You try to hide the flush on your face by staring at the ground, but you field a gaze to Yves, who looks a bit like a deer caught in headlights. She looks so handsome, so cool, and downright fucking hot at the same time.

Hmm… What would it feel like being pinned under her again?

The intrusive thought you have gets stamped out instantly, but the effect lingers—you can't help but check Yves out, feeling a rush of heat deep within your loins.

Her agreement with you was starting to look more and more appealing. Maybe you do have to teach her well.

"Get on."

"What?"

"Let's go. I gotta park the bike, and the cafe isn't close by. Get on."

Yves hands you a spare black helmet, and you hesitantly take it.

"Don't kill me."

"I won't." She grins. "I like you too much to think about doing that."

Your breath catches in your throat. It's not uncharacteristic of her to say things like that so easily, but maybe… just maybe… you want her to mean it.

You get onto the bike as Yves holds it steady. You don't know where to put your hands, but Yves grabs your arms, pulling them to wrap around her waist.

"Hold on tight, babygirl."

"Okay." You can't believe what's happening right now.

"I'm gonna go."

The engine revs.

-----

Yves trails behind you as both of you make your way to the cafe. Yves is quiet along the way, unlike her usual flirting if she caught you staring at her. When you glance back to her, you see her eyes dart away from you, staring at the floor as she swipes her hair back.

Weird.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Never been better, baby." Her reply is unconvincing, especially with a forced grin, but you don't want to really push her for a reply.

"Er… Okay. Sure."

Both of you make your way into the cafe, stopping by the counter to grab the menu. When you sit down at a table, Yves sits across you, her eyes locked onto you as you peruse your options.

"You're staring a lot today, Yves."

"Oh, um, er…" She looks away, her voice soft. This is very unlike her.

"Are you really okay?"

"Yeah, baby. I'm feelin' great, ready to learn, and get good." She leans back, resting her hands on the armrests of her chair.

Oh.

She has a crop top on.

Oh my fucking God, she has abs.

You short circuit.

Two columns of defined muscle greet your eyes, as if to mock you. It wasn't like she was someone you didn't find hot. Now, you have to find out that she also has abs?!

Your mouth dries instantly, and you grab your bottle, taking a swig. The cool liquid quenches your physical thirst, but your mental thirst…

"Don't look too much, babygirl. You might get hypnotized."

Yves tilts your chin up with a finger, moving to lean close to your face.

"My eyes are up here."

Holy fucking shit, she's so fucking hot.

You wonder how you didn't notice them when she had that fishnet and crop top combo. Maybe her pants covered them, maybe you were blinded in your dislike for her. Whatever, you've seen them now. No reason to stop… respectfully staring, especially when you can.

"Look at me."

You meet Yves's smoldering gaze.

"Keep your eyes up here, babygirl." Her warm breath against your lips makes you yearn to lean in and close the gap. "I don't want them anywhere else when they're so beautiful."

You whimper involuntarily, and Yves chuckles.

"You're so fucking pretty, you know that?"

The shame that burns when you squeak and break your gaze to hide in the pretense of reading the menu is something you don't want to admit that you feel coursing through your veins, but it's there. When you lower the menu, Yves has her chin in her palm, her head tilted to the left, a satisfied grin on her features.

"I mean it, baby. You look really pretty today."

"T-Thank you."

"You're welcome. Let's order, I'm starving."

"Okay."

"Oh." Yves leans towards you, lowering the menu to stare into your eyes once more. "You'll get to see what you want to see when I ace the exams. Be patient, babe."

You groan.

-----

That night, you toss and turn on the bed incessantly. Every time you close your eyes, you can feel hot breath across your lips, smell the scent emanating off Yves, and sense her burning gaze on you. Yves's handsome features are burnt deep into your head, and just the thought of her sends your heart pounding and temperature rising.

You think of her abs under her clothes, the defined muscle jumping out to your eyes. She already looks so good, so delicious, and yet, things only go up from here.

The rush of heat between your legs doesn't help things.

You turn again, ignoring your basest desires. Bedtime it is.

[pigeonp0st]

Hi! Since your taking some request I was wondering if you could do one about Wonder woman x reader where the reader is insecure about her body because she is literally dating a goddess and Diana notice her being distant and always avoiding to look in a mirror. Can it be like super fluffy and all. Thx I am currently binge reading each of your imagines 🥰love you and thx again

Diana Prince x Reader #1

Words: 1918

Warnings:

Self-loathing, Self-harm (not intentionally), body dysphoria , blood. Please don’t read if any of these things will make you upset or triggered!

Notes:

You said super fluffy and my mind didn’t register it holy fuck. Uh...oops? This is really dark and i’m sorry if it’s too far from what you were hoping for. I enjoyed writing it though, so thank you for requesting. (Sorry for spelling mistakes.)

————

You aren’t jealous of her. You aren’t.

It’s just...well...Diana’s a goddess. Literally. Even people who don’t know she’s Wonder Woman would call her that without question, just based on her looks.

And you’re...you're you. You’re you so you get asked often, by dense people not intending to be rude, how you managed to get with her.

You’re you so whenever you’re in a room with her you’re practically ignored. You're you so people’s eyes always widen when you say Diana’s your girlfriend, because HOW.

How, you can tell they’re wondering. Someone like Diana deserves to be with some rich model, not you.

God...you hate this. You hate feeling this way, and you hate that it involves Diana so largely. It’s not her fault the world is the way it is, it’s not her fault you’re the way you are, but it’s hard. It’s hard looking at her and not seeing all of your imperfections mirrored on her loving face.

It’s hard to look at her, and not compare what she looks like with what you look like. It's hard looking at her and not remembering all of the ways you’re undeserving...all of the ways you're not enough.

It’s not as hard as looking in the mirror though. You can stand the sadness when you look at her because she smiles so brightly sometimes, and she’s just so loving that it’s hard to think about negative things when she starts laughing.

It’s hard believing she can’t possibly love you when she’s standing in front of you doing exactly that.

The seconds she’s gone though...the second she’s gone it comes back in full force, and lately you’ve been so overwhelmed thinking about dealing with the ‘after Diana leaves’ that you’ve been avoiding being with Diana as much as you can.

You hate it, and each time you reject her with another excuse you hate yourself just that little bit more too.

—-

You can’t avoid her ALL of the time though, and it’s not like you want to.

Diana comes to your house one day, more unsure of herself than she usually is, and looks around the room like she’s unfamiliar with it.

It hasn’t been that long since she’s been here, you don’t know why she looks so curious about—

“All of your mirrors are gone,” Diana notes, freezing you in your tracks. Then, she glances down to your wrapped hands, eyes wide. “You’re hurt,” she whispers, completely concerned now. She reaches for you but you pull away before she can touch you.

“I’m fine.” You say it through gritted teeth and with adverting eyes, and it’s so clear that you’re not.

It’s so clear that you’re not, but Diana nods her head like she believes you and wraps her arms around herself like the room just got ten times colder.

Everything feels ten times heavier suddenly, too heavy when you’ve been so tired for what feels like ages. Fuck. You just want your girlfriend, you just want your goddess. Why do you have to worry about what the rest of the world thinks?

“Diana.”

She looks up immediately, confusion lined in every inch of her. She’s clearly trying to put the puzzle piece together but she’s missing too many pieces to understand.

You wonder if she’d even be able to understand if she had all of the pieces—if she could see what was happening to you. Could Diana understand something she’s probably never heard about in her island of beautiful women? Something she’s probably never had to deal with?

You don’t say any of that though. You don’t say the words that feel like they’re ripping your insides apart. Instead, you say, sheepish; “wanna watch a movie?” Like nothing is wrong in the world, because maybe if you act like it enough it will become true.

Maybe if you act like it enough you’ll forget last night, the night where you went around shattering every mirror you owned. Some of them with the impact of the floor, and others with your fist.

Maybe if you act like picking which movie to watch is your biggest concern in life, you’ll forget about the medical bills sitting on the counter because some of the glass dug in so deep all you could see was red on your hands, and all you could feel was helpless.

Maybe—

“Sure,” Diana agrees, offering you a comforting smile.

Maybe Diana deserves more than a person that deludes themself to stay tethered

——

You’re an idiot.

Your wallpaper switched from a picture of you and Diana to a picture of just Diana a month ago, but you stupidly forgot that Diana hasn’t changed hers also.

So naturally, since the world hates you lately, Diana’s phone lights up with a call—she completely ignores it while being completely entranced in the movie—and you glance at it to see if it’s someone important, someone Diana would want to answer to.

You pay zero attention to the person who called Diana after you see the picture.

“Diana.”

You don’t register it’s your voice speaking until Diana turns to you. She couldn’t register the sound of her phone ringing but she registers the sound of your voice and you love her, you love her, you—

“Change your background.”

Diana blinks, once, twice, then; “why? I like it.”

“Diana,” you repeat, heart beating a million miles a minute, and voice several pitches higher. “Change your background.”

“Why?” Diana asks again, but it’s softer this time, softer and on the verge of seeing the puzzle even without all of the pieces.

“Because people will—” you pause, your voice hitching, “please...just change your background, please Diana, please, for fucks sakes, please just—”

“Okay,” Diana whispers hurriedly, alarmed by your desperation and quickening breaths, and pulling you into her arms. “Okay.”

But you’re not done. “Not of me, Diana,” you continue, frantically. “Don’t change it to another one of me, okay? Change it to—to something else.”

Finally—finally, Diana tenses under you, hit with a realization that’s larger than her, and larger than her beauty, and something that isn’t really actually about her, something that’s always been about you, that she happens to involuntarily bring out more because of her affect on other people.

She’s hit with the realization on a Monday night, with you still frantic and broken in her arms from just one image. She’s hit with the realization in a home with no mirrors. She’s hit with the realization with a small, quiet mumble of your hardly comprehensible words; “Diana, they’ll think you’re crazy. I don’t want you to believe your crazy for—”

“Why did you get rid of your mirrors?”

It’s your turn to tense and become silent. You even try pulling away but Diana keeps her arms around you to keep you with her (to keep you tethered, because Diana works better than any delusion). “Y/N, why did you get rid of your mirrors?” She asks again, “why are your hands wrapped? Why can we never go out together anymore? Why is your wallpaper just a picture of me and not you, why—”

“I think you should leave.”

“Why aren’t you talking to me!”

Silence. Diana let’s out a stuttering breath and then she’s pulling you closer to her, closer, closer, and whispering over, and over again, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, I'm not angry at you, you’re okay.”

And you're shaking in her arms, clutching her coat, wishing for happiness without delusions.

Then...you’re being honest, telling Diana everything between shaky breaths, and sobs.

You’re giving her the puzzle pieces, not expecting her to understand what she’s looking at, but wanting her to care about it anyways, to find it important, and something worth looking at.

Diana lets you speak even though she’s clearly against half of the things you’re saying about yourself because she wants to understand the puzzle you built while she wasn’t looking.

——

When you’re done, and all that is left is dried tears on more than one pair of cheeks, Diana finally speaks. First though, she asks that you don’t interrupt her. You agree.

“Okay,” Diana sighs, “you won’t believe me—you can’t—but I find you to be the most beautiful person in this world, and any other, in these times, and any other.”

Here, Diana is wrong. You don’t believe this to be anywhere near true about yourself, but when you meet Diana’s eyes you do believe that this is something she believes without doubt.

This is something she believes as simply as the sky being blue.

“And that’s because of what you look like on the outside, but it’s also because of who you are regardless,” she smiles at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes full of nothing but love and concern, and then pain.

“Believe it or not,” Diana starts, voice soft, “I look at you, and everything you are, and sometimes i’m the one who feels undeserving. You feel...brighter than me sometimes. More...more everything, and I—sometimes I feel like you offer more than I give,”

Diana saying that is humorous because all she has ever done is offer, she offers even now after you’ve shown her cracks she wasn’t supposed to see...you’ve come to realize though that if someone feels something to be true... then it’s true to them, and it will hurt them just the same.

“I can not change the way you see yourself, just as you cannot change the way I see you, but I…” Diana pauses, staring searchingly into your eyes until you have to look away, “I want to help you. I will do whatever I can to make you believe me, i’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it and…” another pause, this one longer and sadder…

“I want you to look at me love you, and then when I'm gone I don’t want to be a reminder of your unworthiness, but a reminder of the worth you possess, to me—and so many others.”

“Diana…”

“It’s okay,” she assures, “for now, if you can’t believe you're physically beautiful, I'll show you all of the larger, more meaningful things about yourself until all you can see when you look in the mirror is someone who brings light into people's lives, someone who is loved. Someone who is great.”

And you're crying again now, but this time Diana is the one talking. She is reassuring you, and she’s showing you puzzle pieces, except this puzzle is another one, this puzzle isn’t about the way you see yourself, it’s about the way she sees you, it’s about the way people who matter to you see you, and even the ones that don’t.

This puzzle is larger than the one you showed her, and from the pieces you allow yourself to see, the pieces you’re able to accept right now, it’s a more beautiful one.

For the first time in a long time, you can imagine believing all of the things she tells you. You can imagine it, and when you do you’re sobbing even harder, because yes. Yes, that is what you want.

Diana will be there by your side on the journey to love, like she was there to the last ‘love journey’...but this one isn’t about loving her, it’s about loving you exactly as you are.

Who better to get you to love yourself than the person who loves you most?

[youarejesting]

Sly like a... ? part 11

[Full Masterlist] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All (Marked Chapters 18+) Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story.

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Prev] [Next]

‘No girls or Jungkook’s allowed! ’

The sign on the door filled you with so much anger. You had to physically remember to breathe, it wouldn’t do to start yelling at the hybrids, they already felt inferior and vulnerable compared to humans. You never wanted them to feel weak, which is why you were mad. You didn’t care if they wanted to exclude you, but you would give the two young men a strong lecture for even thinking about excluding Jungkook.

“Jimin and Taehyung I would like to talk with you,” you ripped the sign down and tore it up. It would be best to dispose of the evidence before the young man saw it. Seeing his hyungs ignoring him would break him, “If you are upset talk to me and I will try to fix the situation.”

There was no response so you sighed walking away pushing the small lump in your throat down, you heard them whispering and thought maybe they needed time. It was after lunch that you began wondering if they planned to lock themselves up all day. Jungkook sat on the soft rug looking at the video games and he smiled setting up the controllers as he looked between two games.

“Which one do you think is better?” Jungkook asked Seokjin who took one of the controllers and smiled, he read both and grinned and you stepped over sitting on the floor picking up a controller.

“I can play right, I think Jimin and Taehyung are talking about some things,” You smiled, nuzzling his hair for a second and leaning back on Seokjin’s legs. “So what are we playing, I have never played before?”

Namjoon ended up joining and Yoongi took a seat on your spare side on the rug and leaned on one of Seokjin’s legs laughing at your expense. “You missed, he was right there and you missed, he shot you,”

“Look, I am a Minecraft kind of videogamer, you know the sims?” You puffed your cheeks flailing as you tried to shoot Namjoon who was doing a lot of shouting and not a lot of aiming either.

Everyone was in stitches. You almost forgot about the other two boys who were feuding with you. It was late and you had played a series of driving and shooting games and a game of Minecraft; where you all made a village and lived side by side and visited each other's houses with food and tools.

“I am hungry,” Jungkook pouted, pulling your sleeve and glancing at the dark kitchen. You looked at the time, and your mouth dropped open. “When is dinner?”

“Let’s order in, I can’t be bothered cooking,” You ordered a bunch of food, making sure to get Jimin and Taehyung’s favorite dishes so that you could lure them out. They would no doubt be hungry.

The food was delivered and as you removed the lids you named the dishes loudly hoping the two locked away in their room would emerge and eat something.

It’s super effective!

You smile as everyone digs in. The two boys were obviously mad and jealous that you had slept in Jungkook’s room and you wondered how you would possibly be able to fix this.

“I will take Wednesdays,” Yoongi smiled “I like Wednesdays”

“What is he talking about?” Hoseok asked he was just as confused by the white tiger's outburst looking towards Namjoon who with a mouth full of noodles shrugged.

“Sunday’s you can sleep in Jungkook’s room, and mine on Wednesdays,”

“Oh I will take Monday’s” Hoseok smiled, brightly

“Monday is tonight” Jimin accused looking panicked, “fine, I will take Tuesday then”

“Can you sleep in my rooms on Wednesday?” Taehyung said,

“Wednesday is already taken,” Yoongi glared, placing some meat on Taehyung’s plate in an attempt to console him, “Take Thursday”

“Yes Thursday”

“I will take Saturday,” Jin grinned, “Which means Namjoon is Friday? Is that alright?”

You blinked watching this all unfold, they had just decided on their own sleep schedule for you. It was nice to see them working together but you didn’t know how to feel about moving rooms every night. But at this point, anything seemed more comfortable than the couch. “Maybe once and when I have stayed once in everyone's rooms, I will go back on the couch.”

“What if two people share a room and have bunk beds or something, then that leaves a free room for you?” Jimin said, grabbing some tteokbokki, “I can share with Hoseok or Taehyung or Jungkook, I can give you my room. It can be your own little space.”

“Oh, my room! My room!” Hoseok said, “I miss the sound of other people in the night, we can get bunk beds.”

Hoseok and Jimin grinned at one another, the two already talking about how they would design and decorate their room. Heading into the bathroom you cleaned up the clothes off the floor and dumped them in the hamper. It made you laugh how comfortable they were all getting enough to drop their clothes on the floor right beside the hamper.

Taking a rather warm shower you scrubbed your skin wondering if you would smell different again in the morning. It was a strange thought, once scrubbed and buffed clean you wrapped yourself in your towel and stood on the small mat in front of the basin. Examining your appearance, as you slowly moisturize your skin.

Whilst smoothing the cool night cream across your brow you thought you saw an orange tail in the mirror turning you thought Seokjin had burst into the bathroom to pee but when you turned nothing and nobody was there.

It left you feeling a little unsettled, it was your head playing tricks on you. Getting dressed you all but ran out into the hall smacking into Seokjin who was coming out of his room. You grasped his large shoulders to prevent yourself from falling back. He gripped your waist in response.

“Woah, what’s wrong, why are you scared?” He asked, his tail fluffed and his ears twitching looking for a threat. A few heads popped out of their rooms, “You reek of fear, what happened?”

“I spooked myself, one of the towels moved in the bathroom and I thought it was something else and I got scared, that’s all” Your voice died off with your rambling, and the blush settled upon your cheeks.

Hoseok walked over and took your hands, “don’t worry, you are staying in my room tonight so I will protect you!” His chipper tone did wonders to ease your distress, pulling you along to his room where he tucked the two of you into the bed.

“Thank you, I miss having people to talk to and just be there,” He smiled, “I am excited to get to stay with Jimin, he is such a nice guy.”

“He is a sweetheart when we were little we used to play together and he always wanted to play pirates and superheroes but on my 4th birthday no one from our school showed up to my princess party. So Jimin dressed up as a princess as did my carer Felix and his carer Astrid and we all shared snacks and cake”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL ANYONE!” Jimin’s voice screeched from the hallway seconds before rapid footsteps. His figure appeared in the doorway for a split second, his sock-clad feet slipping out from underneath him sending him sliding further down the hallway.

“I have pictures too,” You giggled

“Send them to me.” Yoongi’s tired drawl came from a few rooms up and you grinned airdropping them around the house. Jimin tried to wrestle the phone from your hands and you grinned, pulling him onto the bed.

“Time for bed Jimin, lay down or get out.” he indeed snuggled up on your other side, Hoseok and Jimin's arms wrapped around you and you were indeed feeling quite safe from your previous scare.

[First] [Prev] [Next]

Tags:  @simplymemyself @lolsiiike @min2jeon @notruercolors @luvaffaire @grazysf  @ella-mella @lustremyg @sonnymii @moments-of-melancholy @calling-dips-on-j-hope @jiminiessipabo @staerryminimini @afangirl91 @halfway-insane @ireallylikeyourwriting @lindsayjoy444 @lindsay1013 @bangtansleftnut​ @chimchoom​ (please make sure you have tagging setting on so you get notified when the story updates)

How can I save this to receive and read updates?

‘Follow’ and turn on ‘Notifications’ so you never miss an update

Add your name to a ‘Tag’ list [HERE]

‘Reblog’ this post with the hashtag #BTSsly

Or you can ‘Like’ this post (but good luck trying to find it a week later, we both know how many things you like a day, perhaps we will meet again in the future.)

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

So Wrong

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Reader, Jane Bodecker, assorted OCs, also gonna go ahead and say Lee is kinda soft/dark in this one

Word Count: 8000

Warnings: Infidelity, alcohol usage, smoking, somewhat dub-con sexual stuff, but not really

Summary: The Reader is a young single mother and widow new to the town of Meade. She gets drawn into a social circle that includes the Sheriff’s wife, while also being drawn to the Sheriff himself.

A/n: I truly don’t know where this came from or why I wrote it. I watched TDATT and suddenly this whole thing just popped into my head complete with a Patsy Cline soundtrack. There’s infidelity on Lee’s part, and his wife is terrible, and these are fictional characters so I am trying to not feel guilty for making that happen. 

There’s more to this story, probably extending into 1 or 2 more parts. I don’t know what to say for myself, I cannot pwp. Feedback and constructive criticism are welcome. Not beta-read, so please let me know if there’s an error. 

Hope you enjoy!

Meade is as good a place as any to settle. Surrounded by wilderness and small towns, it’s quiet, far from anyplace and anyone you know. A welcome adventure and a place to dispose of your grief, finally - hopefully. 

You pull up on a quiet street and sit there just a moment to breathe, to look at the life you had that is settled in between the few boxes and suitcases of belongings, the folded up flag, and the little boy you buckled into the seat.

Through a tangled web of connections, you are able to rent a little upper duplex apartment from the widow in town. She claims she doesn’t mind a little noise as your son stomps up the stairs and gives you an open invitation to join her at church on Sundays.

It is six days into your new residence, the first Monday in town when the apparent welcoming committee shows up at your door. She wears a gentle smile on her face and presents you with a warm pie still wrapped in cloth.

“My name is Jane Bodecker, my husband’s the Sheriff. I wanted to introduce myself…”

You know the routine after moving around a few times already. You imagine the conspiring during the luncheon after church yesterday, the ladies munching on dry cookies and deciding who would be the first to talk to you.

You nod and smile, and accept the offering. 

“Some of us like to get together to play cards and socialize on Tuesdays, it would be nice to have you join us and let us get to know you.”

Of course she means that they are chomping at the bit to know why a single woman with no family ties has moved into town. You’re familiar with the ritual and know you need to go along if you want to make it work in this place.

You return her smile, “That would be so kind of you, as long as you don’t mind my son coming along.” You gesture to the little boy hiding in your skirts behind you.

“Of course he can. He can play with my boy, Robert. We will see you at two.” She leaves you with her address and directions over, telling you to look for the house with the red shutters.

Their house is in one of the newer, more developed parts, with some manufactured homes lining the street and looking boxy compared to the traditional farmhouses, but it's charming. The red shutters stand out, that’s for certain. It doesn’t take long to figure out that Jane is a proud host, head of the gossip chain, and is required to mention “My husband, the Sheriff” at least once per conversation.

You let the ladies ask their questions and nod politely as they give you the required chorus of condolences. You feel the shift when Jane steers the conversation to what they all want to know. “Now, I don’t mean to spread gossip, but some folks were wondering why you rented a place here instead of goin’ home to your family.”

Your shoulders stiffen, ‘so much for not putting me on the spot’ you think, but you still smile politely as you answer. “I have no other family. My daddy was gone when I was a girl and my momma dropped me off with an aunt and uncle when she was with husband number three and I don’t know where she is. They said it was the first thing she did that made a lick of sense,” you try to joke. “Well, they didn’t exactly approve of me and Jimmy, so when we married they told me not to go back.”

“And the boy’s other kin?”

“Ain’t no other kin. Jimmy’s family was small, they’re gone now.”

“Well, ain’t you a tragedy,” she says in a chirpy, high voice. 

Your face tightens and you stare at your lap, “We get by,” you weakly mutter. 

They all assure you that they have some nice gentlemen they can introduce to you, and go on about how fortunate you are they are pulling you into their group. You hear about faceless people and their minor transgressions, but get bored with it fairly quickly and use the time to look over the Bodecker home. It’s nice, a mixture of modest and a few state-of -the-art updates. There’s more dust than you expect, the sofa cushions look worn down, with only a few photos on display. The sheriff’s face shrouded in shadows in the one you can see, but you figure their son must take after him since he doesn’t have the pinched look his mother seems to naturally have.

You don’t even meet ‘her husband, the Sheriff’ until your third Tuesday afternoon of cards at their home. Jane herself is practically giving a campaign speech since the election so close. You never paid a lot of attention to local politics, and you try to give her your attention, but when she starts to ramble on it’s just too much. You happen to look to the side to avoid rolling your eyes and catch just when he strolls in, as if on cue with the uniform all perfectly in place. He scans the group of women until he stops on you, eyes lighting up with interest.

Your own breath catches in your throat at the sight of him as he removes his hat and looks you over.

“Well,” he drawls, “You must be the sweet new thing that’s got all the fellas in town rioting.”

You have to look down, lest the embarrassment make you combust.

“Now, Lee,” Jane scolds, “That’s no way to say hello. Come over here and introduce yourself properly.” She guides him over, and you almost say it with her when she recites, “This is my husband, the Sheriff.”

“Apologies, miss. I know you aren’t trying to get them all riled. Janey told me ‘bout your husband. War is Hell, shame to be losing boys like that.”

He holds his hand out to shake yours, his hold firm and warm and you are hesitant to let go.

“I appreciate that, thank you, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he nods, eyes flicking over you one more time. “What are your plans in this lovely town of ours?” 

“Oh. Well,” you freeze up for a moment, it’s the first time someone’s asked and you don’t have your answer prepared. “Well, I was thinking that I would get a job. We get by right now, but once my boy is in school, I would like something else to do.”

Jane jumps on your answer, “Let’s just see if we can’t find you a bachelor around here. Plenty of boys can use someone to take care of ‘em, but if you want a man who will be home on time, you stay away from any of the deputies. I can’t remember the last time Lee wasn’t busy with something or other from the county. I suppose that’s the life we’ve chosen though, isn’t it?”

Her voice sounds overly sweet, but you can sense the daggers in her words. It’s the way he reacts, shifting on his feet and rolling his jaw like he’s annoyed. Jane doesn’t even pay attention to anything but the cards in her hand. Some of the other ladies nod, but the sheriff just lowers his head before he pulls Jane to the side to talk to her quietly.

You track his movements, fascinated until you shake yourself out of it. It’s been years since you felt like that or even saw a man that caught your attention - not since Jimmy. It’s alarming, unnerving.

The wave of guilt that washes over you is more than you can handle. 

“Please excuse me, but we must be going.” You get up without waiting for any response and practically yank your son right out of the house as Jane calls after you that she will see you again soon.

You brush off the incident after having some time to think, convinced that it is just because you were caught off guard, and try to go on as normally as you can.

Your days end up filled with social calls, running errands or helping your landlady, and keeping your son busy. He asks to play with the Bodecker boy nearly every day, but you try your best to keep your distance when you can, especially when she starts trying to arrange dates for you even when you politely decline.

You look at the other ladies sometimes and wonder how many of them are just tolerating her the way you do. There’s just something grating about the way her voice goes especially nasally when she has something not-very-Christian to say, or the way she talks so openly and obscenely about the apparent whorehouse in town. She doesn’t even seem the least bit shameful when she begins to complain about her sister-in-law and the trouble she gets up to despite her brother being the sheriff.

Sheriff Bodecker, on the other hand, is a bit more friendly than you anticipated, expecting him to be cold or rude, but usually he’s the one pushing his wife to extend a coffee or supper invitation your way and making small talk when you are still around when he gets home from work or if he catches you around town. Your own mind suspects that it’s maybe just a sense of civic duty to know his neighbors, but it’s nice to have company nonetheless. 

Conversation with him comes easily. He talks with you about interesting news stories, about the boys, about some of the other towns, and even plans for the county. It’s interesting, not just debate on whether the new curtains chosen by someone or other are tacky. There are times you get lost talking with him and need to be corralled back in by Jane or Steven getting antsy.

The way he draws your eye is a mixture of curiosity and interest. It makes you notice when he’s driving the patrol car or when you see him around town. You catch how tired he seems at the end of the days, how he’s usually got a piece of candy to slip to kids when they come by and are brave enough to ask. You notice how he knows everyone in town and seems to have an eye on everything, checking in at the shops and breaking up the young men when they start to roughhouse.

In a place like this, Jane Bodecker is far from the only gossiper in town, so while she might not share much about herself or her husband, plenty of others do. Some of the things they say are just nitpicking and you try to drown it out. They’ve been decent to you since your arrival, but it’s hard to ignore the constant whispers of how power went right to their heads.

When the election is over and she gets the right to continue to say “My husband, the Sheriff” you start to really see what they say. She loses the facade of playing the good wife, but still hosts her weekly card meetings to keep up to date. Instead of just coffee and tea, she starts slipping sips of whiskey and gives her opinion a bit more freely than before, and often hurling insults anywhere they can land.

It’s painful to watch her put down everyone, but especially the sheriff when he gets in her way. When you catch him sending a frustrated look at her turned back or rolling his eyes at her complaints about the town and its people, you pretend not to notice and remember to keep a smile on. Her outbursts get more and more unhinged and brazen, and the defeat and exhaustion in his stance makes you ache. There’s a hurt you can’t vocalize without overstepping, but it eats at you, chips at your patience bit by bit.

When the sheriff pulls the cruiser over one day while you’re walking between stores to say hi and make some small talk, you’re pleased. He seems less worn down, it’s nice to see.

“Oh, Sheriff, you’ve got some good timing,” you reach into one of your shopping bags, pulling out a paper bag of hard candies you bought from the candy shop. “While doing the washing, I found a handful of wrappers. Turns out the boys were getting into your candy stash. Thought you might need a refill.”

You hand him the bag and the smile he gives you in return makes your chest tighten up and ache.

“Sweet things from a sweet thing, thank you darlin’.” 

You bit down on your lips, desperate to not react to his flirtatious words. “It’s nothin’, Sheriff.”

“Not to me.”

You start to sway from foot to foot, looking down at the sidewalk with a hum and trying to come up with something else to say. Silence hangs in the air for a moment before his radio crackles with a call from the station. You take the opportunity to make your exit.

“I’ll be seeing you, Sheriff.”

He shoots a glare at the radio, but looks back at you with what you could only describe as longing. “Sure will, Sweets.” Usually something like that would sound condescending, but from him it sounds endearing. He winks and pulls the car away, talking to the dispatcher while he drives.

‘Sweets...sweet thing...darlin’’ his voice repeats over and over in your head, fingers trembling and clumsy with the rush they give you and the way your heart races.

You get nearly sick when you recognize the feelings you’re having. It’s like it was when you were first with Jimmy. When you couldn’t even look him in the eyes because you felt too overwhelmed by your feelings for him. When you flushed and overheated when he got close and said pretty things. When you used to hold onto his hand and promise yourself that you would care for him every day and prove your love to him.

That’s when you realize you’re coveting another woman’s husband.

It’s Thursday, which means you need to head down to Main Street to visit the pharmacy for your landlady, Mrs. Martins, and gather some groceries for the week. You had made plans with Jane to let the boys play together while you took ran errands. You don’t have a good excuse to change the plan, but you can’t help but ask again, “You sure you don’t mind him being here?”

“Not at all,” she smiles, a bit wider and more manic than usual, “Now if that handsome Wilford boy happens to ask you for supper, don’t you worry about rushin’ back, ya hear?”

You laugh at her latest unsubtle attempt, “I will keep it in mind, thanks.” She and a few others had started to meddle, putting eligible bachelors in your path and setting up dates on your behalf. You do try. You talk to them, let them flirt, but none hold your interest. They’re boys - lanky and lean, still all reckless and rowdy. Not what you’re looking for, nothing like the solid, filled-out figure of a man, someone secure and stable and in a uniform. But that’s something to think about another day.

Wilford does indeed ask. 

You do not feel so inclined to take up the offer, especially when he pinches the round of your ass as he asks you to consider dessert before any supper. 

He has you pressed against the wall outside the hardware store, letting the sun blind you and bring tears to your eyes as the bricks snag the delicate threads of your dress.

He only backs away when a loud voice booms out, “There a problem here, son?”

He turns his head to find Lee pulled to the side of the road, window down and arm resting on the frame, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“No sir, Sheriff, just makin’ some supper plans, ain’t we?” Wilford looks back at you with a leer. Your hands press flat against the building and your knee twitches with the urge to jerk up and hurt him.

“I thought we were expecting you tonight, isn’t that right?” Lee asks you pointedly. 

Your attacker looks back at Lee, then to you, and you nod. Finally, you’re given some space. 

“I imagine you need to be moving along then?” Lee checks, waiting impatiently for Wilford to answer.

“Yessir.” He gives you a wicked grin and spins away to go back down the street. “Maybe another time when you’re free.”

You shake your head, eyes narrowed at his back as you glare.

Lee taps the side of the cruiser, “C’mere.”

You take a shaky breath and gather yourself with a nod before taking the few steps across the sidewalk. Leaning down you take a moment to look him over in his uniform, the badge gleaming in the sunshine and eyes clear blue as the sky.

“You alright, Sweets?” he asks, voice low and gentle. He’d taken to calling you that since the candy incident, always in that same tone - like it’s precious and important. The way it hits you right in the center of your chest hurts more than the physical damage done a moment ago. You know he isn’t asking if your heart is aching, or if you’re alright being lonely, or any of the ways you’re feeling it right now, but it strikes you in an unexpected way.

“I’m fine,” you smile tightly, “Thank you for checking.”

“These boys just don’t know how to handle themselves when they see a pretty lady.” Your cheeks ache as you try to keep from beaming at the off-hand comment. “Ya know, I’m getting ready to head on home, you need a ride that way? I’m guessing your boy is stirrin’ up some shit with mine?” He turns and scans the road and sidewalk around you, fidgeting a bit as he asks.

“I still have to make another stop and my car is at the end of the block, but thank you.” You stand up.

“Well, I mean it, you and Steven stay for supper tonight, I’ll square it with Jane.”

“You don’t hav’ta do that-”

“No worries, darlin’.” He winks, taps his fingers on the shell of the door by the painted logo and waits until you nod in agreement. “See you soon, then.” And with a nod he pulls off the curb.

You watch the cruiser drive away, then look up and down the street, but no one else is there. You finally manage to draw in a full breath, and rush to get to the cool air of the pharmacy to ease the flush burning you from the inside out.

You make it back to the Bodecker’s before the sheriff, glad to have a few moments to smooth things over with Jane since she clearly had not expected you to turn down the date she arranged for you.

“He wasn’t too much of a handful, was he? I told him before I left that he better mind you today.”

She waves you off, sitting back down at the table with her abandoned cigarette in the tray and a small glass of brown liquor.

“Well, the boys’ll sleep tonight, that’s for sure. They’ve been running circles round the whole damn house.” She ashes the cigarette before taking another puff and settling against the backrest of the chair.

You take a moment to look over the kitchen, a pot is just about to boil over so you make your way to it. “Can I help you out with anything? Give you a moment to freshen up ‘fore Lee gets home?” 

“I suppose that’s the least you can do.” Her cheeks draw in another puff and she hums, taking her glass with her as she goes to their bedroom.

The boys run inside, breathless and sweaty, both shouting while they tell you about a nest they found outside before you order them off to get washed up themselves. You look down the hall, waiting to see if Jane was on her way back or if she was expecting you to finish her cooking. Rather than let it burn, you do just that, taking care of the potatoes, adding a few seasonings as you go, and pulling out the meatloaf from the oven. 

The screen door squeaks and boots thud through the house when Lee enters and makes his way to the kitchen. You nervously look over your shoulder, catching him leaning against the door jamb, spinning his hat in his hand, a soft smile on his lips as he looks your way.

“This is a sight. If I didn’t know better I’d think I wandered into the wrong house.” 

You let out a bit of a nervous laugh, then look back down to the greens you were tending to, “I am so sorry, I kept your wife busy longer than I should’ve. She’ll be out in just a minute.” You go back to busying yourself with finishing up the meal.

“Not complainin’,” he mutters under his breath, but you still hear it and it makes your breath hitch. Jane could set you on edge with her snide remarks, so could Lee, but for completely different reasons - some that had been dormant for so long you didn’t know what to do. 

Just then Jane makes her grand reappearance, hair freshly combed and lips tinged with a touch of color; her cheeks look ruddy, but you can’t tell if it’s rouge or flush from the alcohol she’s been sipping.

“Don’t you go adding too much milk to my potatoes, nobody likes ‘em all runny. Here, let me,” she says and nudges you out of the way, “See you gotta mix in just a little bit right there.”

She overpours anyway, her hands moving unsteadily as she mashes the potatoes up, making them runny just like she warned you about. 

From behind you, you see Lee go to the table, picking up the liquor bottle and examining the contents, making marks with his fingers against the side of the bottle and shaking his head. He takes a swig himself and sets it back down.

He mumbles something about being sober, then walks down the hall to where Jane disappeared, stopping to say something to make the boys giggle on the way before they wrestle each other at the bathroom sink to wash up for supper. 

The meal starts off quiet, just the utensils scraping along the plates, but Jane being the gracious host, finally tries to perk it up with conversation.

“I know Wilford might be a little rough ‘round the edges for someone from a bigger town, but there are still several other young men I can introduce you to,” she offers, unprompted.

You choke a little before you recover and finish chewing your bite of food.

“You needn’t go through the trouble, Mrs. Bodecker. Really.” 

“It’s just, you’re so young to be widowed already and all alone. What kinda home will it be for the boy with no man around? And don’t you want more kids? I bet you just glow. Some of the ladies at my bible study wouldn’t mind setting you up.”

The idea makes you squirm. No, you aren’t dead inside, but there’s no way for you to get what - who you really want.

The sheriff speaks up then. “My old man took off on my ma, sister, and me. That’s just the way shit happens sometimes,” he says and you feel the dark cloud start to clear just a bit. You nod at him, acknowledging the little bit of affirmation.

“What was your husband like?” Jane presses, digging a little further into that painful wound. “Maybe that will help me out.”

Your Jimmy didn’t have much to give you, but he gave you all he could. He gave you the kind of love that made your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your stomach swoop with butterflies. Your eyes flick toward Lee and you think again about how alike they seem to you, handsome, intuitive, assertive, strong-willed. He catches your gaze and pauses his chewing for a brief second while he waits for your answer. 

“He was a good man, strong and fair. I’d like to think he and Mr. Bodecker would’ve gotten on quite well,” you finally say, smiling kindly at them both in turn.

Lee’s lips curl into a smile while he finishes chewing, then sits back with a stretch. “You’re makin’ me sound like an old man,” he whines, “Call me Lee when I’m not on duty.”

“Yes sir,” you automatically reply. “Lee.”

His smile grows. “Say, Janey? Why don’t you go get that jug of wine up for us?”

She nods and gets up.

“Wine?” you ask, surprised.

“It’s nothin’ special, someone up the road makes it. Tastes better than that church wine, but don’t burn like the shine some other folks are brewin’ up.”

Jane comes back with three glasses and pours generously for you all, her own motions increasingly sloppy from her afternoon drinking.

You sip at it, the taste a little tart, but not as acidic and thank them for their generosity.

“Jane, you do something different with the seasoning tonight?”

“No,” she answers, then goes right back to her chat with you, you think about speaking up, but she goes back to leading the conversation. “So, you still thinking about becoming a working gal?”

“Not right away, but yes.”

“Oh?” Lee asks, “Something at the diner? I think the grocery is hiring?”

“Nuh uh,” her voice takes on a nasty tone, “Nothing like that for her. She went to secretary school.” The lilt in her voice makes it clear that she doesn’t care for that little fact. “Can you believe that? School just to learn to file a paper or take a message.”

“There’s more to it than that,” you quietly defend.

“Jane, what the hell do you know? You haven’t worked a day in your life?” Lee asks.

Jane rolls her eyes, body slumping a bit in her chair. “Well, whatever you do, just make sure you don’t go working at the Tecumsah.” She snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “That’s where Lee’s sister works. I told you ‘bout her before.” She gives you a look. “That place is a den of sin, if you know what I am gettin’ at.”

“You’re are gonna spoil my appetite talkin’ like that,” he says. He drops his fork and you startle, his glare at his wife making clear this is another sore subject. 

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” she mutters. “I’m gettin’ tired of mending the buttons on your clothes.”

Your jaw nearly drops. You wring your napkin on your lap and scramble for something to change the subject and break the tension, “Jane, there are such lovely flowers planted right by the library, is there a gardening club around here that you haven’t told me about?”

She’s bored by the topic, but it does enough to distract her and send her on a tangent. You nod and hum while you pick at your food. Occasionally you glance to Lee at the side and find him looking at you appreciatively.

You keep turning the conversation away from yourself, getting her to talk about anything you can as she keeps refilling and sipping down more of her wine. 

You use the next lull in conversation to make your exit.

“This has been lovely, and I am so thankful for everything today, but we really oughtta get back home. I need to make sure Mrs. Martins gets her items from the pharmacist and I need to try to fix the old projector she’s given me.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Lee asks, leaning forward.

“No idea,” you laugh. “I was hoping to puzzle it together.”

“I can take a look for you,” he offers.

“If you have a moment,” you turn to Jane, “And you don’t mind sparing him.”

She scoffs and waves her fingers, “Nah, take Robert with you.”

He grunts in response while the kids leap up, excited for more time together. You do what you can to clean up and ease the load for Jane, but she’s getting more irritable by the minute, so you shuffle to the door to leave.

You head to the driveway where your car’s parked, waiting for him outside while the boys chase each other around the cars. He steps out the door, swinging his key ring on his fingers, looking at ease without the uniform on, but still strutting with an air of authority. It makes your stomach swoop.

“The Martins place? What road is that on again?” he asks jarring you out of your staring.

“Just follow me, Sheriff. I mean - Lee,” You nod as you get into the driver’s seat, Steven climbing in on the other side.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He mutters it loud enough that you hear him. The tilted, teasing grin on his face as he climbs into his own car almost makes you certain it was his intention.

When you get out, there’s a lump in your throat and the air suddenly feels heavy. Thankfully, the short walk up your drive is quiet, the sheriff walking leisurely next to you and laughing at the boys as they race each other down the sidewalk. 

“I gotta go in the back way,” you swallow thickly as you tell him while you open up the gate, “There’s a private staircase for us there.”

He nods and follows. 

When you enter the small apartment, you’re grateful that you don’t have much to fuss over and that it is tidy by default.

“Why don’t you boys go play with the Lincoln Logs or race cars? Nothing too loud right now,” you suggest and push them off toward the small room Steven occupies. “I got the parts all together right here, but I think something is missing.” You point to the box with the projector parts and reels.

“No problem,” Lee’s voice is quiet in your small space. He takes out the parts and starts to fit things together, checking a few switches here and there after a couple of minutes before patting the top of it with a, “There you go.”

You smile widely, “That’s it? Really?”

“That’s it, Sweets,” he matches your smile.

You suddenly hate the idea of him leaving so quickly, so you look around for something else.

“Coffee?”

He nods. “It’s like you read my mind,” there’s a glint in his eye as he gives you a generous once-over.

You feel a flush and quickly turn away to the kitchen.

Your hands tremble as you fill the kettle with water and scoop grounds into the press.

The boys break into a fit of giggles and before you can call after them, you feel the warm presence of Lee shuffle up behind you. His boots scuff against the floor as he stops, then seconds later his arms cage you in from behind, his palms resting against the edge of the countertop.

His breaths are deep, his nose just tickling along the neckline of your dress and you feel your back stiffen at the rush.

“You’re so lovely Sweets,” he whispers.

Your breath shakes as you suck it in. “S-sheriff,” you swallow thickly, “Lee? What’re you doing?”

“You’re beautiful, y’know.”

You remain still, unable to whisper anything but his name again.

“I see the way you look at me,” he presses a kiss to your skin that’s so gentle and tender but nearly makes your knees buckle. “Like you want somethin’.”

“I’m not - I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you weakly deny.

One arm leaves the counter to wrap around your middle, pulling you even closer to him while he steps right up behind you, the whole front of him up against your back. The movement makes you gasp and arch just slightly. You’re unable to catch yourself from rolling your head back to lean against him fully and feeling him grunt.

“You don’t need to make any excuses. You want me, dontcha?” he talks with his lips pressed right against your neck, heavy breaths tickling at your hairline.

God, do you want him. The sudden feeling of a warm, masculine body against you is something you didn’t realize you missed so much. For years it’s just been you and your boy and focusing on the day to day, not thinking about the way a strong arm feels pulled around you with fingers just tickling at your sensitive skin - until suddenly that’s exactly what is happening. And how you’ve missed it, your muscles nearly seize up with tension as you try to fight how good it feels.

It’s like trying to drag yourself from a dream, slow and muted as you try to make sense of everything at once; a sharp clarity punches through hard and fast.

“Your wife,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, ready to try to pry him off.

“That fucking pig? I don’t love her, I don’t want her. She don’t want me either.”

“Don’t say that. You can’t say that,” you tell him and start to pull away, squirming away but getting nowhere since he doesn’t budge an inch. He allows you to spin around between himself and the countertop. “Lee? What is this? What’re you doing?”

It’s a stupid question. You know what this is. You can remember moments like these with your late husband, but Lee is not your husband. You know his wife. You just spent the evening with her in their home.

He doesn’t answer. Instead his free hand starts to skim up along your side until his thumb catches at the curve at the bottom your breast, then slides up so that he can rub his thumb back and forth over your dress, teasing at your hardened nipple.

It makes you whimper and nearly fold in half with how sensitive you feel.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he coos, his lips parted and eyes tracking the movement of his thumb.

You lift your arms to his shoulders, uncertain yet if you’re planning to push him away or pull him close when you hear the quick footsteps of the boys.

Lee steps back to give you some distance and your hands flutter mid-air as you try to compose yourself.

The boys start to whine over each other-

“Momma. Robert keeps knocking over my building.”

“No, he keeps takin’ the blocks I’m using.”

Some kind of clarity forms and you rush out a solution for them, “Why don’t you get out your TinkerToys and split it all up? Alright? Go back to the other room,” you nudge them away.

Problem solved, they run back to the room, leaving you standing in the kitchen, Lee lingering just feet away and the half-finished coffee press on the counter.

“Jane must be expecting you home by now.”

He grunts and shakes his head ruefully, “She’s probably passed out by now.”

“Oh,” you nod. You search for something, anything to excuse yourself and catch your breath, “I need to go to the bathroom. Excuse me a moment.”

You slip out of the kitchen and into the door just down the hall. Taking a moment to relieve yourself then press a cool rag to your cheeks. You’d nursed the glass of wine Jane had poured, so you knew deep down you weren’t tipsy, you were just overrun by the feelings the sheriff gave you. Once you get your first full breath in minutes, you feel better, calmer and more controlled. You look at yourself in the mirror and decide - you just need to send him on home.

You barely crack open the bathroom door when it’s pushed open wide, Lee wedging in when it’s wide enough and nearly slamming it shut behind him.

“Don’t hide from me, Sweets,” is all he says before he’s got one arm around your middle again, and the other holding the back of your neck while he presses his lips against yours. After gasping in surprise, you instinctively return the kiss - your tongue and lips tentative against his dominating mouth. 

It’s strange - all of it so strange after so long. It’s been years since your last kiss and you feel clumsy, out of practice, but he doesn’t hesitate one bit, doesn’t seem turned off by your uncoordinated motions and hands that can’t keep still over his middle and shoulders.

He takes in a deep breath, pausing for just a second to position himself better, then he’s back on you, and you feel ready for him this time. One hand resting on his chest while the other hooks up around his neck, your fingers stroking through the soft, short hairs at the back of his head. He turns the both of you, pressing you against the vanity sink.

“Lee,” you whimper when he wedges a leg between yours.

“Shh, shh, sshh. I got you.”

His kisses are relentless and make you light-headed, gasping for breaths every time he slightly lets up. His hands push and pull, struggling against your dress and your undergarments until he’s freed one breast and can drop his head to suckle at your hard peak.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, mind painfully aware of the children in the room nearby. You crack open an eye to make sure the door is still closed and try to focus on the sounds the kids are making, but his tongue and lips are too distracting. He pulls as much of your breast into his mouth as he can, greedily swirling his tongue all over the sensitive bud, and pulling away with a loud pop.

You slap at his shoulder while he just looks up at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Feels good, right?” He places his hand to cup your breast, thumb flicking at your nipple. “Let me have you, I’ll make you feel so good, my sweet girl. Please?”

His own eyes close as he ruts up against you, his hard length pressing against your hip and sending a tremor through your body, practically shaking your bones. You don’t move though, your hands stay frozen where you hold onto him, but he continues to lead and coax you along.

One wide hand holds you at the back of your neck, just holding you in place. His mouth moves across your cheeks and at the hinge of your jaw. He whispers quiet promises of satisfaction, telling you how lovely you are and confirming every word with a kiss. His other hand leaves your breast after one final and quick pinch and grabs at the bottom of your dress. The fabric bunching in his fist as he gathers it until he can feel your thigh.

Then he teases you with just the tips of his fingers, sliding right up and over til he meets where your thighs meet. It tickles, makes you shake a little, and then you’re sucking in a hard gasp when he keeps going until he pets and presses over your sex with the pads of his fingertips.

“So wet,” he says on an exhale, pressing right where you feel your excitement leaking. “You want me too. It’s alright.”

To prove his point, he presses harder, flattening his hand until he’s cupping you and making your body jerk between him and the sink. You bend your knees to open your thighs wider with the touch, and he groans and presses hard against you again, the heel of his palm putting pressure to your throbbing clit. You struggle to not hook your leg right over his hip to let him in.

“Lee,” you start to beg, “Please. Oh my god, please.”

It’s so overwhelming you start to sob, the tears already prick at the corners of your eyes. Just being touched, feeling the warmth of him, and the words - it’s all that you remembered being with a man to be and more. His hand keeps a rhythm against you, driving you higher. You hadn’t had a man’s touch in years, but suddenly you need Lee like you need air.

“Please,” you say again. Your body tingles with electricity that has nowhere to go.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, baby. I’m gonna take care of ya. Am I what you need?”

“Yes,” tears start to roll down your cheeks. He pulls back slightly until he can slip his fingers underneath your panties, gliding right through your arousal. You feel two of his fingers slide into you, and you squeeze around them instantly.

“Fuck,” he grunts. Your wetness drips down his fingers into his palm. He presses the heel of it against you again, right against your sensitive clit this time. “Come on my fingers, sweetness.”

He fucks you with his hand, his thick, solid fingers caressing you while he sends jolts of pleasure through you with pressure on your sensitive button. You squirm to get away, but the hand still at the back of your neck tightens and holds you down, making you take it.

“It’s alright,” he whispers, “It’s alright.”

And that’s it. You freeze for a moment as the pleasure peaks and then you’re trembling as the shocks of it rush through you in a blaze. You can hear the wetness drowning his fingers as he keeps pumping them into you while you clench over him repeatedly and sob as quietly as you can, which must not be very quiet because he starts to shush you and slow the movement of his hand, gently attempting to calm you down.

“You’re okay, s’alright baby, just breathe, c’mon,” you hear him coach, but all you can focus on is the thumping beat of your heart as it races and trying to catch your breath between sniffles, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

His hand slides out from your panties to grab you steady at your waist, the hand from your neck moves so he can use his thumb to wipe away your tears. He presses his forehead to yours and tells you to breathe with him.

You blink your eyes open, eyelashes glittering with wetness and you take a minute to focus. Once things are clear, you tilt your head back to look at him. His cheeks are flushed, lips wet and rosy, and his eyes - they nearly glow as he looks you over. It’s something to see - awe, tenderness, pride all in the twitches of his lips as his lips turn up with a smile.

“Sweets, will you touch me?” he asks. For such a big man, his voice is suddenly so small.

“Lee, I can’t-I haven’t…” you struggle to find the words.

“It’s alright, that’s alright,” he assures you, circling your wrist with his fingers still sticky from your arousal, and guiding them to the bulge in his trousers. You flinch, but don’t pull away, your arm tenses, but goes with the motion. He presses your palm against the solid length, pushing down to give him some relief. His hips press against you in return and once he’s sure you aren't going anywhere, he lets go of your wrist, then starts to undo the belt and button in quick movements. He tugs the waistband of his trousers and boxers down together, just to release his cock.

You feel the fabric move under your palm, but keep pressing against him, your hand sliding just slightly out of remembered instinct. When the fabric of his boxers slides away and you’re met with the heat of his cock, you gasp. Your hand wraps around him, fingers circling around his shaft to hold him and pulling a strangled moan from him.

“Shit-fuck,” he hisses. “Won’t be long.” He wraps his hand over yours, pulling your fist up and down over him while he pumps his hips into it. Precome drips down from the slit, easing the glide. 

His eyes close and he presses his temple to yours, his face pulls up in concentration, focusing on the pleasure, “You’re so soft, so sweet,” he rasps, “Want you so bad, want you all to myself.”

You can imagine it, if you’re ready to be totally honest, you have imagined it.

“Kiss me?” you whisper.

His lips meet yours roughly for a long press, then he tilts his head and licks at the seam of your lips, making you open up to him. His hand and yours start to speed up, he keeps guiding you up and down, just the slightest twist at the head with each stroke.

The kiss turns sloppy, more sharing air and pecks than anything as he spirals with the pleasure you’re helping to give him.

“You’re gonna -you’re gonna make me-” with a pained expression, he nudges you away, his hand stroking frantically as he leans over your sink until he starts to come, streaks hitting the porcelain as he chokes down groans. You watch his neck and face go red, trying not to watch, but you can’t help yourself and catch the way his cock twitches with his release, all swollen and red. You don’t think you could possibly blush more, but still fire burns underneath your skin.

When he finishes coming, he reaches for you again, pulling you into another hard kiss. “God, darlin’. Fuck,” he whispers while he attempts to catch his breath. “Fuck. Haven’t been tugged off like that since I was a deputy.” He chuckles, the laugh coming out in hard puffs of air.

You struggle to look at anything in the bathroom, eyes straying back to Lee, to his softening cock, to the come dripping slowly in the sink basin. Just then you hear the boys start to giggle and reality hits you again, making your chest seize up in panic.

“Oh, Lee. No,” you raise a hand to your mouth and quickly rush out the door, piecing your wardrobe back together as you walk back into the kitchen. You hear the water run in the bathroom and murmuring as Lee talks to himself.

Your movement must have distracted the boys because they manage to sound like a stampede heading toward you. You wipe at your nose and eyes as best you can before you turn to see what they want.

Both the boys pause, but it’s your son that speaks up, knowing how you look when you cry. “Momma, you alright?”

Lee exits the bathroom then, shirt tucked back in, belt and trousers back in place - only the flush from the neck up giving anything away. His eyes bore into you with heavy emotion that you are ashamed that you can read so well - concern, sympathy, desire. A mixture that you remind yourself you don’t deserve.

“Yeah, baby. I am. You know I get sad sometimes, I’ll be fine. Are you boys ready to say goodbye for tonight? I think it’s well past your bedtime.”

You grab Steven and fuss with his hair, with his messy shirt, and then turn him around and hold him against you like a tiny human shield. “Say thank you to the sheriff for fixing the projector and for letting Robert play.”

“Thank you, sir,” your son dutifully responds.

Lee can see what you’re doing and he’s not happy with it, his mouth going flat and shoulders heaving as you pressure him into leaving.

He just nods, then nudges at Robert’s shoulder, “Say thank you for indulging us.”

“Thank you,” Robert quietly says.

You send Steven down the hallway to get ready for bed, and then you follow behind as they step toward the door, Robert too tired from a full day of play to put up a fight. Lee opens the door to the back steps, telling Robert to be careful going down. When the boy starts down a few, Lee turns back to you.

Before you can react, he’s giving you another kiss, quick but meaningful. “We’re not done,” he whispers. 

“We are. Go home, Lee.”

He gives you a long look before stomping down the steps. “Til next time, Sweets.”

...