#that's 300$ back in my pocket for my vacation! or to put to use for future flight plans

[crownconstellation]

very sexy and delightful news in a two- hit punch:

i got a haircut and it has so far been a massive smash hit with my coworkers

finally called the airline & got a refund without any problems! yippee!

[embossross]

The Devotion of the Girl in the Mirror

Chapter 4 >> Chapter 5 >> Masterlist

✣ Pairing: Rindou x AFAB fem!Reader w/ a chapter cameo of reader/yuzuha

✣ Warning: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI

✣ Series: part of the In the Belly of the Beast fic universe

✣ Chapter CW: bdsm play feat. reader/yuzuha (gasp!), bondage, overstim, vibrators, exhibitionism, group BDSM feat. 2 other subs getting masturbated (one fem!AFAB and one fem!AMAB, idk crowd jeers, a little bit of degradation, bad communication & angst, drinking)

✣ Story CWs: BDSM dob/sub relationship; sex (oral, ptv, pta, etc.); genre typical drug use, alcohol, smoking

✣ Synopsis: A story of two lonely people find love for better or worse. Or, dom!Rindou is sweet on his girl. Or, on paper, you and Rindou have nothing in common. But sometimes chemistry defies logic, and with every conversation, you find yourself more bewitched until all you see, smell, or hear is Rindou.

✣ Word Count: ~8.5k

The black dot may have been nothing but a circle, a representation of the sun or an eye, except it is written, which makes it punctuation. As a symbol of punctuation, it may have been a period at the end of a sentence, except there are three, which makes it part of an ellipsis. As an ellipsis, it may have indicated a trailing off of a thought except it accompanies a blank space on his screen, an auto-generated signal from his phone, which means you are still typing, as you have been for the last five minutes with no message yet in response to his text.

It should not take this long to respond to an invitation to dinner.

With every minute that passes, his ire rises higher.

Rindou strains through another set of lat pulls, refusing to let you and your silent treatment slow him down. Opposite him, Benkei deadlifts a stunning 300 kg. When the bar hits the floor, the clang echoes off the mirror-lined walls.

There is a gym in the basement of his apartment complex, guaranteed to be empty in the early pre-dawn hours, which he prefers for the privacy it offers. Wakasa’s gym is never empty. Fighters practice boxing, MMA, and jujutsu with retired pros morning and night. Most of the customers sport tattoos from one syndicate or another, and Rindou often recognizes the guys on his own payroll by the free weights or sweating in the saunas. Rindou only started returning to Wakasa’s gym for the occasional practice bout or strength training session in the last few months. Wakasa’s been filling his ear with the idea of taking you and his girl on a double date, a vacation to the mountains when your semester wraps, and Rindou has been coming by to talk the details.

A text finally lights up his screen, and Rindou forces himself to ignore it for a solid minute while he finishes his set even as his eyes dart back against his will.

I can’t do dinner. Plans with Naoya. But I could do drinks.

Wakasa lopes forward, hands in his pockets, before Rindou can answer. It’s his turn to leave you with the ellipsis of anxiety and doom. He locks his phone and tosses face-down on a bench.

“Wanted to tell you we got the goods through Nagoya yesterday,” Wakasa says tonelessly. “Ushioda’s really come through. My guy says customs not only didn’t check, they agreed to decrease security personnel during offboarding. Ran is going to be a menace about being the one to make this happen, but he’s worked his magic on this.”

Rindou matches Wakasa’s subdued attitude beat for beat, but in his mind, he runs through a month’s worth of memos and emails to recall if he knew about this plan. “You sent a shipment of girls through the port? That’s fucking brazen.”

“Mochi wanted to test the limits early with something cheap before we put our expensive shit through there,” Wakasa said.

According to Takeomi, Ushioda begged on bended knee for clemency for his son. It was hard to say whether love or shame drove the father, but the outcome was the same. Acme Corp would smuggle Bonten contraband through the Port of Nagoya, so long as they streamlined into their regular shipping schedule to avoid setting off any alarm bells.

This was the second shipment received through the port after moving a little marijuana through a few weeks earlier. Rindou tries to keep his expectations in check as operations continue smoothly, but his hopes rise against his better judgment.

“Mochi says he wants to do a few more runs, but that you should start thinking through where you could source the heroine,” Wakasa relays.

They could source through the triads as the Chinese and Russian gangs already have inroads with the producers, but they would each take their cut and ruin Bonten’s margins. The drug would be new on the market. Rindou doesn’t want to price high outright. Start cheap and once the clientele can’t live without their fix, then drive the prices up. They could run a deficit to start, but that would mean Koko up his ass. Cutting the triads out completely isn’t an option either as they would need to ship out of China, but if they could build their own supplier network, they could negotiate a better rate.

“It’s gonna be too obvious if we have guys coming in and out of Afghanistan all the time. They don’t even run direct flights out of Seoul. We’d get picked instantly. I’m thinking we could get away with sending someone through to Turkey though. With a little palm greasing, they can cross into Iran without getting their passport stamped. The IRGC run the heroine trade through Afghanistan, so we could develop our own connections from there,” Rindou says.

Wakasa nods along at what he already figured. “Who you gonna send?”

“Not me if that’s what you’re thinking. I hate plane rides,” Rindou says.

“Of course, not you. We need you. I was thinking Hanma.”

Rindou groans. “I fucking hate that guy.”

“We all fucking hate that guy. But that’s why he’s good at this shit. He’s done great work in Hong Kong. Send him over there. He knows how to make the coldest man sweat,” Wakasa suggests.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll think about it.”

He finishes another set of lat pulls, while Wakasa and Benkei chat away about the insipid rise of Peloton. Endorphins rush to his brain, and he feels magnanimous enough to finally shoot you a reply.

See you at 5.

If he has anything to say about it, Naoya will be eating dinner alone tonight.

--

Two people could not be dressed more oppositely. Fresh from his post-workout shower, Rindou wears nothing but a pair of sweats. Droplets of water scatter across his bare shoulder blade as his long, wet hair drips freely. Strong chest and arms still pumped from muscle training great you at the door. You, meanwhile, dressed for an Arctic exploration in a floor-length parka, bulging in all the wrong places, a fluffy scarf wound three-times round your neck, and an equally fluffy, fur-lined hood. A mask completes the look, so the only skin he can see is a sliver of your forehead and your narrowed eyes.

“Just looking at you makes me feel cold,” you scowl.

“Just looking at you is making me cold.”

You barge right past him into his apartment. The heater works overtime to keep the entire complex a toasty 23 degrees. Past the entryway, where you slip out of your boots, the dining room table is lined with boxes of Chinese takeout; Unsure what you’d want to eat, Rindou opted to order a smorgasbord of options.

Beneath the unflattering coat, you wear a black dress. The long sleeves and tasteful length contrast a daring vee that dips down to show off the swell of your lovely, little breasts. You’re packaged like a delicious gift for the unwrapping, and Rindou can’t resist planting a soft kiss to the back of your neck as you hang your coat. He expects the battle tonight will be a long and painful one, but still you dressed up for him.

“Good to see it’s you under there. For a second, I thought it might be an assassin,” Rindou jokes.

“Easy for you to laugh all warm in here! It’s freezing outside. They’re calling for snow tonight into tomorrow, which sucks. I can’t miss class at this point in the semester,” you complain.

“Well, I’ve got everything you need to warm up,” Rindou says. He gestures at the table laden with food, and then, more critically, brandishes the bottle of wine bought just for tonight. “And if the weather’s too bad tomorrow, I’m sure they’ll cancel. You can just hang out here all day.”

“My professors are all sadists. I wouldn’t put it past them to host class as they get double-bypass surgery. They’d have the surgeon right there in the lecture hall,” you grumble.

Rindou half listens as you launch into a prolonged rant about your upcoming finals. His attention is understandably split as he searches your lively expressions for the ugly shadow of jealousy. Behind every word, he hunts for double meanings.

The look of pure betrayal on your face when he ran into you yesterday in Chiba will not soon leave his mind. It colored his scenes yesterday with Mayuri, turning him mean and unmerciful as he bound and belted her ass red. She deserved his full attention after putting her trust in him, but Rindou twice almost walked away to call you. Had you answered, he might have berated you for daring to look at him like that, like you’d caught him fucking your mother or murdering the family pet. Like he’d done something unforgivable to you.

Now, as you gripe about exams, every bit the picture of the beleaguered uni student, your words ring false. Like you are filling time and space to put distance between the you of yesterday, so judgey and offended, and the you of today. You tell him how exams are two months out, and like a good student, you are already studying in earnest in the pits of what you dub “flashcard hell” as Kii has taken to posting flashcards over every expanse of wall in her apartment, springing prep questions on unconsenting listeners, and crying periodically about how she should have spent fewer hours sleeping and more time reading the supplementary materials. Rindou hums in sympathy in all the right places, and he almost, almost begins to relax into the conversation. Like an idiot.

“Are you feeling the dumplings or the pork?” Rindou asks, plating up a hearty helping of food for himself.

“Neither. I can’t eat, remember?” you say.

“Oh, come on. Stay the night. It’s too cold to be going out.”

“True, but I promised Naoto. We’re going to this really fancy curry restaurant, and he said he’d pay, so I’m planning to go all out and get dessert,” you say.

Noticing his wine glass is running low, Rindou drains the last dregs and pours himself a healthy portion. This will be easier drunk. He debates pouring you more as well, wondering if a little tipsiness would make you spunkier or mellow the worst of your impulses. Because he senses the fit approaching, the moment you break your pretense that everything is fine and well and force a confrontation.

“You know, I don’t like playing games,” he says.

 “I don’t like playing games either.”

“Then, don’t.”

Rindou says it shortly, definitively. The barest hint of command reinforces his voice, and he watches the way you receive the order, squirming in that delightfully submissive way of yours before you reject your inclination to obedience. You set your jaw.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say.

Rindou sighs. He expected you would be difficult but not passive aggressive. Not like this.

“You have dinner plans with Naoto? Seriously?”

“Yes?”

“Bullshit,” Rindou snaps. “I expected you to be immature about what happened yesterday, but this? You’re better than this. Forget your conveniently timed dinner plans, and let’s act like adults. Then, we can have a nice night.”

“It’s a work event. Naoto was nervous about going alone, so he asked me to come with him. This was planned weeks ago. I just forgot until he reminded me,” you insist, standing up from your chair, like the added height will strengthen your lie.

“Convenient,” Rindou sneers.

In the six months you’ve been together, you have never had a genuine fight or even argument. Seeing your smiling face typically puts Rindou in too good a mood, curbs the worst of his temper, so he is slow to pick fights. You, meanwhile, listen so well, adapting your behavior without him having to utter a word. Bickering typically becomes flirtatious banter in a matter of minutes, the kind that ends with your panties in his pocket.

So, Rindou doesn’t know what to expect from you in a real fight. He half expected you to fold at the slightest correction. You are still young, so he doesn’t write off the possibility of some kind of petty manipulation either, the silent treatment maybe, or more probably breaking into a mess of tears, the kind that bring so many men to a panic; Unfortunately for you, Rindou doesn’t capitulate to a woman’s cries or begging, going cold at any miserable attempt to manipulate his emotions.

Faced with you now, the tendons in your neck pulse as you square of against him without any sign of crumbling. You worry your lower lip between your teeth until it is red and swollen. It is the only sign of anxiety. Otherwise, you stand strong.

“If you feel like I’m somehow attacking you, it must be a guilty conscience. Because I haven’t said or done anything to you.”

“What do I have to feel guilty about?” Rindou demands coldly.

“You’d have to tell me. Because I thought about it all day and night –”

“See, I knew you were wound up about yesterday –”

“I thought about it all day and night,” you raise your voice to drown him out. “And, yes, it was weird to see you with someone else. Yes, it hurt. It was so unexpected. But, if you think I’m trying to punish you over it, you’re out of line because my eyes are wide open. You’re not my boyfriend –”

“No, I’m not. Which is why you shouldn’t –”

“I know, I know. How can I be hurt or angry when you’re not my boyfriend? You didn’t cheat on me or break any promises. I have nothing to be upset about.”

“Right.”

Confused and more than a little wary, Rindou sits back down at the table. He has held conversations like this a few times in his life. Most subs understand the importance of negotiation implicitly and take him for what he is. There have been a handful of in the past, however, usually inexperienced women like you, who struggled to work through the limitations of their relationship with him, crashing futilely against the boundaries of what he offered.

Because he doesn’t do relationships. Blame it on the dangers of his work, the secrecy inherent in the lifestyle, or some intrinsic flaw in his makeup. Regardless, he never plans to tie himself down to one woman. All that road offers is the erosion of his freedom.

“Since you wanted to talk about it so much though, bringing it up and all, I would like to ask about what I should expect,” you continue. “Because I didn’t realize you were seeing other people, and that raises questions. Like, are you practicing safe sex with these women? Have you been getting tested for STDs? Should we be using condoms? And, are you looking for more long-term subs? How would you even fit in another sub? Would we have to see each other less, so you could make time for a new one? What should I expect going forward?”

Each question is too reasonable to deny, so Rindou answers plainly, “You’re the only person I see regularly, so I use condoms with everyone else and get tested on the first of every month. If you want to use condoms together, that is entirely your decision. I’ll accept whatever you decide. I’m not looking to train anyone else right now. If I found someone that suited my tastes, I might consider it though, and yeah, that would mean adjusting my schedule around because I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you would not be open to training together.”

“No!”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Rindou says.

“How many women have you been with since we got together?” you demand.

There is no good answer, and Rindou groans, “Seriously? Don’t start overreacting now.”

“I’m cool! I’m being so cool. Just answer the question,” you smile, but it is a mockery of your normal, gleaming smiles. Teeth clenched tight together, it is more like an animal baring its fangs.

“No! I don’t owe you a fucking itemized list of every woman I’ve fucked. Just like I don’t run around town telling them about you. I haven’t cheated on you. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“I just wanna know how and when you’re finding time to meet other people.”

Rindou rolls his eyes. “Because that’s rational. You don’t actually want to know the answer to that.”

“I just don’t know where you’re possibly finding the time to meet all these women –”

“Again, you’re exaggerating. Not all these women. Some, like Mayuri, I knew before you. Some I meet through work. Straightforward stuff.”

“Mayuri is the woman from yesterday?”

“I think we’re done with this conversation now,” Rindou says tightly.

A shininess blurs the color of your eyes then, and Rindou sighs. He wants to wrap you up in his arms and praise you for being such a strong, beautiful girl because despite all your tough words, this isn’t easy for you. If he could be a better man for you, he would consider it, but there is only so much he can offer, and the burden of accepting that is on you.

“Thank you for being honest with me. I really do need to head out and meet Naoto, but I’ll think about the condom thing,” you murmur.

“Baby, don’t leave like this,” Rindou tries. There is no more fight in your stance and now that the threat of conflict is ended, he finds the energy draining from his whole body.

“I’m fine! We’re fine. Seriously, Rindou. I’m not going to overreact or stamp my foot at you like that might change something. My eyes are wide open like I told you. I understand where you’re coming from completely. We can hang out soon,” you say.

Rindou doesn’t like the idea of you leaving when your foundations are so shaken, wants to stuff you full of gone-cold Chinese food and cuddle on the couch until you fall asleep on his shoulder. Even if neither of you yelled or descended into insults, he feels like he fought a war, and the only way to recover is in your arms.

He follows you to the entryway.

You redon your winter gear in a hurry. The puffy coat is plush and cozy as he pulls you close and kisses you long and slow. You return the kiss with wind-chapped lips not fighting him at all. The heat that always explodes between you blazes, and he cups and caresses you through the barrier of the coat.

He wants you to stay.

You break the kiss after only a minute and smile.

“I’ll call you, ok?”

And then, you are gone.

--

When Rindou sleeps, he dreams of shopping malls built like mazes, window shopping displays of the finest goods, and he understands without knowing that to obtain even one miraculous product from these stores would spell his salvation; But whenever he tries to enter one of the stores, the maze shifts, redirects him until he is walking forwards again, searching. Still searching. During the slippery seconds between sleep and waking, that liminal space where dreams and life converge, he stews in resentment for what he can’t possess. That resentment often follows him into the day, though he tries not to dwell on it. The recurring dream started sometime in his early twenties. He remembers that dream joining him in sleep on at least a monthly basis, but for all he knows, he dreams it every night only to forget with the rising of the sun.

The weeks that follow the lingerie incident remind him of that dream only there is no supernatural force reworking the architecture of time and space to prevent him from entering the store. It feels like he’s piloting a plane headed straight for a cliff. There is still time to push the emergency button and eject to safety if he is only willing to abandon the plane to its solitary, fiery fate. But, he is a pilot, and the plane is all he’s ever known, and the longer he goes without pushing the button, the slighter his chances of escaping unscathed.

Because you are not fine.

The three weeks that follow pass at a crawl. Time reshapes itself into molasses around the giant you-sized absence in his days. It is easy, at first, to deny the obvious as you offer such convincing excuses to blow him off. After all, your friends do often lean on you for emotional support, and finals are drawing close, and your mother does deserve a break. So what if you leave his texts on read for hours at a time?

On the fourth day, he calls you in the free period he knows falls between your Wednesday lectures. When you answer, Rindou mistakes your sing-song hello for the voicemail you have relegated him to recently. You apologize for not having time to talk, squeezing more words into a breath than humanly plausible as you explain your packed study schedule. You promise to see him soon before you hang up.

You sounded fine on the phone. The same voice, light and airy like spring personified, that Rindou knows so well.

But you are not fine.

The ice wall between you thaws a little in the second week when Rindou reminds you that he bought tickets to the Inaba/Salas tour. Again, you surprise him by joining as planned at the stadium. Throughout the concert, you smile and cheer along, and the open delight on your face as you groove to the music invites him to join in the fun. At the end of the night, he drives you home to where you swear your mom is waiting. He kisses you breathless in the front seat of his car. You sigh hot and sticky into his mouth, notched into the crook of his shoulder like you have carved a space for yourself there, and whisper “Sir” with more fervor than a prayer. Everything seems fine.

But you are not fine.

Only a few days later, you agree to a date. The familiarity as he texts you details and soaks up your liberal usage of emojis relaxes him into thinking all is well. He takes you ice skating at Tokyo Midtown Gardens. With your little gloved hand in his, you half carry each other around the rink, equally graceless without the surety of solid ground. Rindou laughs more than he has for two weeks. You both fall again and again, Rindou toppling each time so as to shield your body from the worst of it. As you sprawl on top of him, padded from head to toe in winter wear, you promise to kiss his purple bruises better and call him your hero. Back at his apartment, you do just that, licking and kissing every part of his body, losing track of time. The trains stop running, so you sleep where you belong in the cradle of his arms. He wakes up at 6AM to the sound of you shuffling, halfway out the door citing an early start to the day. You would have left without a goodbye, but at his groggy inquiry, you tell him you are fine.

But you are not fine.

Rindou wants to confront you about the change. He hates playing stupid games more than accusations or tears and would rather have it out at this point. But, whenever you visit, he never broaches the subject. Because you are so singularly you! And fuck it. He misses you. The contrast between seeing you fives time a week and this drought is stark. Now, when you leave, you don’t send him dumb memes or answer his calls to talk about your day. You don’t rush to make plans to see him again either, and Rindou knows he can’t accept your lame excuses anymore. Something is fundamentally broken.

For the first time in maybe ever, Rindou throws himself into his work. The timing is convenient with recent developments, so he offers to take the meetings outside the perimeter of Tokyo when before he might have dragged his feet. He personally briefs Takeomi every day. When Kakucho mentions a security threat in passing, Rindou volunteers to help even though it falls well outside his purview. Anything to keep the body active.

You had come to fill up the hours of his day, to be the dessert he could look forward to after a meal of veggies. Rindou can’t comprehend how he used to fill the interminable hours between six PM and sleep without your assistance.

So, he works, and he tries not to think about anything much at all.

The plane soars onward without any assistance on his part. The details of the exposed cliff face, jagged and unforgiving, grow clearer by the hour. There will be no escape. When he crashes, Rindou knows he is going to explode.

--

Ran once said all of Bonten has PTSD in one form or another. Overexposure to high stress, life-or-death situations puts too much stress on the adrenal system, so now half the executives drop to their stomachs when a car misfires, stand with their backs flat to the nearest wall in every new room, avoid crowds like some people avoid traffic tickets. Rindou considers himself free of this affliction, but on the road, hands flexing on the steering wheel and eyes split between mirrors like a car might strike out into his lane at any moment, he is every bit as activated.

The hour is late, creeping towards midnight when Rindou pulls onto the expressway. There are predictably few passenger cars sharing the road. Semitrucks kick up a mist of rain that obscures his windshield.

To fill the sleepless hours, Rindou is developing all kinds of new habits. Driving, brain preciously blank to all but the threat of traffic, is one of them. So is going to the office. Just today, he went to the Ueno office of all places rather than watch the hours of the day tick by in his apartment. There is no email unanswered, directive unissued, or memo unread to keep his brain occupied. He wishes there was because his apartment holds as little allure now as it did this this morning.

A notification lights up the display. It’s a reminder that the BDSM club in Roppongi – the one where you first met – is open for play tonight. Rindou palms his cock, and it feels like an animal, a dead one, in his pants. Not even a stir. His mood is too black and distracted to responsibly dom anyone, so he dismisses the notification.

Screeching the tires, Rindou almost misses his exit. He brakes hard down the ramp until he shoots out on a quiet street. At the drab buildings, he does a double take, recognizing the north entrance to Nakano Station.

He has driven straight past his real exit and an extra twenty minutes without noticing to arrive in your neighborhood.

Rindou feels drunk despite not taking a sip of alcohol all day. He pulls into a gas station and refills the tank. While it pumps, he pops his contacts out of sore eyes. Everything blurs like a photograph in soft focus. He closes his eyes against a headache and breathes deep for 120 torturous breaths. Back in the car, he unearths his glasses from the glove compartment. They’re the same style, though a stronger prescription, that he wore as a teen. Catching his reflection in the rearview, Rindou sees the boy he once was. Just as lost, letting things happen around him without a thought, only leaping to action when stronger powers (namely Ran) prompted). Someone who watches as life happens.

Nothing is in his control.

The BDSM club is five minutes closer to Nakano than his apartment, a negligible difference, but after the driving mix-up he changes course. Nostalgia takes the wheel to lead to where you first met, where he has not visited since.

The ticket takers at the theater don’t recognize him, hesitating until he points at the tattoo on his throat. He looks unkempt: hair ratty and unbrushed, jacket slung over his shoulder and button-up crumpled at the ends, and his glasses highlight the eyes of a man who has barely slept in days. It is no surprise that subs don’t flock to him when he enters. He doesn’t look like the all-powerful dom tonight. Best he sits back and watches.

Rindou pays for a full bottle of bourbon, served neat and hard on the taste buds. The club is busy as it’s Saturday, and couples and groups clog the four stages. There are no tables left close enough for a view of the action, so Rindou stands in the corner, taking heavy swigs straight from the bottle until his stomach cramps.

There is little variety on stage. Three doms whip, cane, and flog their subs. All older man with younger women. They are impersonal, showing perfunctory delight at the infliction of pain. These are the kinds of scenes that bore him when done without finesse.

On the fourth stage, he recognizes Lady X, a domme he knows from many shared nights spent just like this, bringing women to their knees. Lost in his memories is Lady X’s real name. Yuzu something…Yuzuriha? Yuzuyu? In the clubs, she always goes by her alias or is called simply Lady, but Rindou remembers her vaguely as the sister of the tenth gen leader of the Black Dragons.

Lady is the antithesis of Rindou as a dom.

If Rindou finds control in manipulating a pliant body and acceptance in a sub’s embrace of his touch, whether it offers pain or pleasure, Lady finds release in giving her subs what they want. Where Rindou hoards women’s orgasms like precious jewels, flaunting his ownership of them only to hide them away again, Lady distributes them like cheap birdseed, doling out orgasm after orgasm to her thankful subs. Eventually said thanks turns to pleading, as one orgasm becomes four and the pleasure twists to something monumental. Lady then ups the vibrator or nips the woman’s clit with blunt teeth because, as she told Rindou once over a drink at this very bar, her goal in every scene is to create a world where her subs’ worst problem is the existence of too much pleasure, not its absence, nor its inverse, pain.

Tonight, Lady commands the largest audience of patrons. No surprise there as she strikes quite the picture herself, tall and lovely in a pencil skirt as she brings three subs on stage to piteous tears. Rindou slides closer to her stage for a better look.

Suspended in a harness of ropes, the first sub weeps wretchedly. There is a hitachi wand held to her clit. The setting must be high because the buzz travels from the stage to his ears. The woman cries but does not beg for mercy. There is the sheen of the acolyte behind her eyes, like she might commit unspeakable acts if they only bring her back here to Lady’s ropes and generous toys.

A second sub at her side stands restrained but not suspended. Her arms are tied above her, so that she can do nothing while Lady strokes her cock. Lady’s little hand smears messily over the tip, which is an inflamed red. There is a puddle of cum on the floor from the woman’s past orgasms. Little drips of semen harden on her legs. Every touch must hurt, but Lady keeps playing with the tip, forcing her back to hardness whether she likes it or not.

The third sub is just an ass in the air. A perfect ass at that.

Bent over a wooden block and shackled at the ankle, so that her legs are to the audience, the sub’s pussy is spread wide around a vibrator taped to her clit. Her feet kick ineffectually against her restraints, little trembles jiggling her thighs.

Rindou enjoys watching Lady work, so self-assured, so competent at bringing her subs to the brink and past. His eyes stray again and again to the pretty ass in the air. A stir in his pants makes him question his decision to abstain tonight. It has been over a week of his own hand.

After fifteen minutes of more of the same, Lady releases the first two subs from their ropes and cuffs. They are felled heaps on the stage, panting in puddles of their own slick and cum. Lady rounds to the third sub, leaning toward that hidden face in private conversation. Then she stands, and sighs for the audience’s benefit.

“Here I am being so generous, telling this slut to cum as many times as she wants, and she hasn’t cum once! What to do?”

Lady answers her own question by crouching down in front of the sub’s spread pussy and burying her whole face in it. There is a lull in the music, and Rindou can hear just how lewdly Lady laves that pussy with her tongue. Her fingers stretch the sub’s hole at a brutal pace. The woman keens loudly and kicks her feet again. Everything from her little naked toes to canting hips look beautiful in the throws of overstimulation.

Of course, Rindou knows without knowing. A presentiment colors the scene. He leans forward with interest, compelled toward that wet cunt, not wanting to miss a moment of the action, but his stomach sickens too. He ignores the sensation, blames the bourbon warming its way down his belly.

Lady tuts as the sub continues to hang on the precipice without teetering over.

She turns to the audience and says, “Little slut is having a hard time coming without permission from her old dom. Isn’t that the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard? Why don’t you let her know she has permission to cum? Tell her to squirt all over my hand.”

Eager to join in more actively, the crowd of about thirty hoot and holler in encouragement, mixing in obscenities about the sub’s wet cunt and place beneath Lady’s toys. Rindou claps along.

Four fingers slam in and out of that sloppy hole, and the time between shakes and cries from the sub evaporates until she is blubbering at the stimulation. Lady yanks her up by the hair to gift her the added sting at her scalp, and it pushes the sub over the edge.

Correction: it pushes you over the edge.

Because Rindou knows that ass, and he knows those toes, and even at a distance with the lights too bright and a row of people in front of him, he knows that pretty pussy, too. That pretty pussy now clenches around Lady’s fingers in an orgasm far too long and powerful for your overstimulated body.

Rindou watches your face screw up in pain and tears, an expression just as familiar to him. It is an expression that should belong solely to him.

All three subs follow Lady dutifully off stage after your orgasm finally settles. She bundles you all in blankets, heaping compliments and affection down on you as is your due after such a trying scene. Rindou hovers within earshot as Lady pets your head and rubs a tear from your check. Twenty minutes elapse as you come out of subspace, during which time Rindou drains half the bottle of bourbon.

“I look like a racoon. I’m gonna head to the bathroom and fix my makeup,” you laugh, pointing at the streaks of mascara that paint your cheeks.

You replace the blanket with an overcoat to shield your nakedness then weave your way through the crowd. Compliments on your performance rain down from all sides. Rindou shadows your step. Not far from the bathroom, you drop your phone. When you turn to pick it up off the floor, Rindou is there, already scooping it off the ground.

“Rin – Rindou!” you yelp.

“Not trying to scare you,” Rindou says immediately, defensively, and he passes the phone back to you without even scanning the lock screen for a peek at your messages. “Just saw you and wanted to say hey.”

“Well, hey…um…”

“You might wanna fix your makeup. You’ve got…” Rindou gestures at the cakey residue you already know is there, and you curse.

“Yeah, sorry. I need to go to the bathroom and deal with this.”

“I’ll come with you,” Rindou says, opening the door for you.

“Rindou, you can’t come in here with me,” you whisper.

He almost tells you it’s his club and he can do whatever he wants, but Rindou wears his secrecy like a second skin and only smirks at your worries before following you into the women’s bathroom. It is a six-stall affair with a wall mirror above the sinks. He can hear a woman pee behind the door of one stall, but he ignores the stranger’s presence as you ignore his, turning to the mirrors.

“You did good up there. Looked like you had a lot of tension to work out, which isn’t surprising considering all the studying you’ve been doing. Didn’t you have a paper due this week?” Rindou prompts.

You rub dry fingertips against your cheeks. When that doesn’t work, you wad up three paper towels, wet from the sink, and scrub.

“Yeah, I had a paper on Bashō’s references to music and instrumentation in his poems, which was due on Thursday. It could have been a lot worse honestly. I like the subject, and I thought my first draft was good for once. Of course, I had a complete breakdown on Wednesday after dreaming that the paper was really supposed to be about Nishiyama Sōin and that I’d miscited every source in there, but um, I managed to calm myself down.”

“Good. I don’t know why you always have nightmares about your papers. You always get an A.”

“Not always,” you say darkly.

The woman in the occupied stall hurries out, casting a few curious glances Rindou’s way as she washes her hands. She doesn’t dry them, leaving little splatters of water on the counter. Then, they are truly alone.

“Are you planning to stick around now that you finished your scene? Can’t imagine you wanna do another after that? It looked intense.”

“You really watched that?” you ask.

“Most of it,” he confirms. “You did good.”

“Thanks,” you say without looking at him. You dry your hands while staring at your now streak-free reflection in the mirror.

“If you don’t wanna stay, I could take you home. Or, if you’re hungry, I know a 24/7 breakfast place not far from here. You never eat enough after a scene,” Rindou says.

“Um, I’m good…Have you been coming here often?”

“No, it’s my first time in forever. You?” he asks in a tone that just misses casual.

“It’s my second time in the last two weeks. I’m kind of trying out stuff right now,” you say.

“Trying out stuff…” he tests the words.

“Are you okay? You look a little tense.”

Normally, Rindou chooses his words with precision, but he finds himself unable to process his surroundings. He exists somewhere outside his body, outside his brain, outside this room entirely. He peers down on the scene almost like a security camera, removed and distant. No, rather more like footage from a security camera, viewed days after the fact in a little room by someone who neither knows nor understands the context of the scene. Trying to think through the likely consequences of his words or choosing an alternative phrase, he finds his thoughts vaporous and ungraspable. So, he simply speaks.

“I didn’t like it.”

“Like what? Watching me with someone else?” you say quickly.

He grunts because that’s easier than searching for any kind of answer.

“You said we could fuck other people.”

“I know. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Rindou agrees. It is the correct and automatic response, but he can’t resist tacking on the truth at the end. “I didn’t like watching.”

“Well, that’s flattering at least,” you mutter.

In a different reality, one where he sent you up there with a pat on the ass, he might have liked watching Lady work your cunt up to a waterfall before returning you to him, still hovering on the precipice, edged and needy. He might have liked teasing you all night with the possibility of an orgasm. But he did not like watching you cum for someone else. Not without his permission. Even with a filmy gauze slowing down his brain from the half bottle of bourbon, he knows that much.

“We’re not okay, are we?” Rindou asks.

“No, Rindou. We are not okay.”

“Well, can we talk about it?”

“I don’t know. Can we talk about it without you making me feel like a complete idiot?” you snap.

A woman pushes open the door to the bathroom, but upon hearing the direction of your conversation, she turns right around, leaving you to a privacy tinged by history. The door creaks back into place with a choked slam.

“Like a…? You’re not an idiot?” Rindou insists.

“I know I’m not an idiot! I have spent the last few weeks going back and forth between feeling so sad and then so goddamn angry with you! Because I know that I could not have been more chill about things if I had a lobotomy to remove my frontal cortex first! I was so cool about everything, so understanding, so kind, and you treated me like, like some fucking bother you had to get out of the way!”

The first feeling to reemerge from the confused pit you dumped him in is embarrassment at himself as he is admittedly slow on the uptake, stuttering out, “Wait…this isn’t about…? This is about our conversation at my apartment?”

“Yes!” you hiss, hands flapping emphatically and voice echoing off the tile. The overcoat swallows you whole, a sea of black fabric trailing the floor, but somehow you stand tall within it. “Yes! I came that night so prepared to listen to your side of things and be reasonable and empathetic and all the rest, and you treated me like I was a hysterical child that you had to manage. Far be it from me to criticize the great Rindou! Not that I even did criticize you before you were jumping down my throat. I am not unreasonable. I am not hysterical. And I am not a child. I did not appreciate being treated like I was.”

Rindou remembers back to the hours before you arrived at his apartment that day. How he’d been so sure you would accuse him of cheating or play mind games to negate your own jealousy. The whole time you were there, he maintained that sureness even when you acted contrary to those expectations.

It, he admits, hadn’t been fair.

Worse, it may have been patronizing.

He groans, not at you but at the memory, and rubs a hand over his face. “Fuck, yeah, yeah, you’re probably right. I see that. I didn’t want you to blow things out of proportion, so I tried to shut you down before you could. But I guess I acted like a prick.”

“A prick might be understating it. I came to you to have a conversation in good faith, and you made me feel so…small. Insignificant. Like, I’m just this easy thing to you. Like you could use and discard me, so I better shut my mouth before you throw me away.”

Rindou opens his mouth to give a rebuttal-like reassurance that you are wrong about your supposed disposability to him, but you plow forward, pointed finger punctuating every word, which is a welcome distraction from the look of raw pain on your face. It is like the sun. Too painful to look at directly.

“I know what that feels like, Rindou, because I’ve been treated that way before. I’m young and people call me sweet, and that means people think I’m stupid or superficial, but I’m not. I’m capable of dealing with the hard things and having the hard conversations, and I do not deserve to be treated like I’m too naïve to know how things work.”

There is a layer of grime on his tongue. He focuses on how foreign it feels in his mouth rather than the thumping organ in his ribcage. The way his heart races and the room feels too small is not dissimilar to the sensations he feels when someone fires a gun, when his life is momentarily suspended. A kind of physical panic that quickly settles into alertness.

He breathes deep, calming. Rindou smells the antibacterial soap and weak air freshener blowing from the vents. The colors of the room appear saturated, more contrast and more details accessible to the eye. Most importantly, he sees you clearly. The veins of your throat strain as if bursting with tension your body can’t contain. There are new smudges at the edges as tiny tears wet your eyeline. There is every emotion in those eyes from disgust to anger to sadness, but most of all, there is a question lingering there as you silently beg him to answer: where can we go from here?

“I have never thought of you as some easy thing. I fucked up. I don’t know what was going on in my head that day, but you’re right. I wasn’t seeing you. I should have shut my fucking mouth and listened. I’m sorry.”

Relief warms your eyes.

“I accept your apology,” you say.

“Really?” Rindou asks. After weeks of brewing resentment and your impassioned speech, he didn’t expect a speedy turnaround no matter how many pretty speeches he made himself.

“Yeah, I don’t like being angry. It takes a lot of energy,” you half laugh.

The abrupt about face from anger to laughter throws into stark relief that the is very drunk and very tired.  Beneath that, Rindou recognizes a more abstract emotion, too: happiness.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner. I didn’t realize what you were upset about,” Rindou says, and then he adds helpfully. “Because I’m stupid. Thanks for forgiving me.”

“Yeah, you are stupid, but I figure you deserve a little grace because this was the first time in six months that you disrespected me. So long as you never treat me that way again. Seriously. My mother taught me to never put up with that from anyone,” you say.

“On my honor,” Rindou vows. “So, can I buy you something to eat now?”

The happiness explodes out like a shaken soda bottle. One second, he’s filled to the brim with it, and the next it’s gone, bubbling to nothing on the tile because you don’t say yes. Instead, you stare grimly at the wall, all traces of reconciliation gone as you clutch the sleeves of your overcoat tight.

He wonders if his apology is not enough, if he might prove his sincerity to you in some other way. If you were Mikey, he would cut off his pinky. He would gladly gift you the ring, index, and middle fingers of his left hand, too, if you demanded them. But fingers out of the question, he has nothing to give you to prove himself, and you don’t say yes.

“Rindou…I do accept your apology for insulting me, but that’s not all…The truth is, I tried to be cool about it, but I’ve had weeks to think, and…I’m not okay with things going back to how they were if you are dating or hell, sleeping with other people. I’m jealous and hurt. And I can’t accept it,” you say.

“It’s normal to be jealous,” Rindou tries, tone bracing and supportive. “I got jealous today, but I worked through it. I’ve been a dom since I was nineteen, and I’ve never been tied down to one person before. It’s not the way I know how to do things. That’s why I didn’t make any promises when we got together. I didn’t cheat on –”

“Please don’t start that again! I know! I know you technically didn’t do anything wrong. And I know that I can’t make you stop seeing other people. It’s your relationship, too, and you can have your boundaries, but…”

“But?”

“But if I can’t ask you to stop seeing other people, then you can’t ask me to keep loving you.”

You clap a hand to your mouth as if shocked by the confession, or like you might herd the words back into your mouth where they will remain unspoken. But it is too late. He can count on one hand the number of times anyone has told him they loved him, and he will not forget this.

“Baby…” Rindou tries to reach for you, but you scramble away, and now tears fall down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the problem, ya know? It hasn’t just been sex or hanging out for me. What we were doing, for me at least, was love, and it hurts too much to love someone who…I tried to take a step back, just have fun with you every once in a while, but there’s no medicine for falling in love, and every time I saw your stupid face, my heart started doing backflips. It doesn’t listen to me when I tell it we shouldn’t love you anymore. And that’s why…”

Your face blurs. It takes Rindou several confused seconds to realize his eyes are wet and blink the moisture away. When you reappear, you have steeled your nerves for the finishing blow.

“That’s why I don’t want to see you anymore. I need space and time to get over you, so um, please just stop calling and texting and all the rest. Just stop.”

Your face blurs again, and this time Rindou knows it’s because his eyes are watering. He blames his stupid glasses. He needs a stronger prescription.

There is no such excuse for your tears that drip past your chin to land on your collar. You wipe fruitlessly at the leakage, too slow to stimmy their fall.

If you say anything after that, Rindou doesn’t hear you over the ringing in his ears. Three women enter the bathroom arm-in-arm and immediately jabber at him about how he isn’t welcome, like three harpies sent to drive him away. Rindou doesn’t fight them as they push him out the door with their words.

Outside in the club, in the dark and music, far from the bright quiet of the bathroom, Rindou feels like he’s stepped onto the surface of Mars. Like he’s planets away from where you are, and he might as well be.

He doesn’t know how to find his way back to you because he stands now amid the wreckage, engine on fire, wings cracked. The plane has finally crashed.

A/N: entering my villain era

"'I was always watching you.' This could have been a breathless declaration of love or a final farewell." - Yōko Ogawa, The Diving Pool: Three Novellas

[butterfliesareeternal]

I think I’m going to start writing my life on this wall again, it will prevent me from writing about you, for you, and it will do me good too.

I will start where I left off last time, when I went back to high school, I had repeated 2 times (the preparatory course when I was 6 years old, and the 3rd in college when I was 15 years old), so I am 16 years old in my first year of high school in second general.

It had been 3 years since I followed my father on weekends to be a DJ, and I invested all my pocket money in Knight of the Zodiac and role-playing games, for video games, apart from those for game consoles, I had hacked them all for my Atari 1040 ste, then later for my pc.

In music I started with the drums 🥁, then the trumpet 🎺, and then the guitar around the age of 14. The girls were friends and nothing more... I was what is called a geek with his double DJ life (it was every weekend and during the summer holidays), which allowed me to be with my dad and then earn a lot of pocket money.

It’s because on New Year’s Eve, my father was speechless and I had to accompany him from the top of my 13 years to make all the announcements on the microphone with my little voice, I still remember this large room where 300 people sitting at the table looking at me and listening to me announce the dishes and the course of the evening, everything started that evening.

And then it never stopped...

So, I was coming out of Paulhan College where all the idiots constantly harassed me in a barbaric and horrible way, to go back to Pézenas High School where my life might change.

Bad news: some of my tortors who went to vocational high school took the same bus as me, and during the journeys I received threats, insults and spit. I didn’t want to go anymore!!! So I stopped taking the bus, and I was going by bike, which will also make me lose my obesity that I had. So, whether it’s raining, selling, snowing, I did the 8 kms by bike, morning and evening, every day. I left my bike either with my grandparents (where my apartment is) or with my friend Arnaud whom I had received with his arms wide open when he went down to the south to settle with his parents. He was a very intelligent and brilliant boy who made us discover role-playing games, went to high school and then I joined him the following year (having repeated), and Paulhan he and his parents had moved to live in Pézenas.

In this high school the students were all like very wise lambs, and I found myself in a class with the best students (I had kept my computer and Latin option plus the 2 modern languages), what a change, no one bothered me, I had friends and respect. That’s where I had my first rock and pop music band: Alcatraz!!! As well as the first concerts. And I always with my friends, my toys, my games and my music, the girls I didn’t think about it.

Then comes the end of the year, Arnaud tells me that his cousin Marie laure from Normandy came on vacation during this summer 1992, and for fun I told him that if I went out with her we would be cousins, jokingly. But he made fun of me a little and told me that it would be impossible because although she was the same age as me, she had had her Baccalaureate and was going back to University and I was still doubling... One more year of general second and then we were not of the same social level.

It bothered me a little and I bet her that I would go out with her.

On July 14 I hosted the national holiday as a DJ in Usclas l’Herault and for the first time I was going to use my DJ status to go out with a girl. And yes, I had to know how to do it, I had never kissed a girl before, I had to train before meeting Marie Laure. So during the evening, a pretty blonde looked at me and then I spent a while with her, I would know that later it was Laetitia, the one who would later become Johnny Halliday’s last wife. Well, in short... Personally I found it disgusting to put my tongue in a mouth that stinks of tobacco... But hey, necessity makes laws.

Arnaud calls me and tells me to come that his cousin has arrived. I’m going, I’m going up to the first floor of the villa, and she was in Pézenas, she had to be there in a few minutes. When we hear the front door open at the bottom, with Arnaud we move towards the stairs to welcome her.

I stood at the top of the stairs while she went up, I first discovered her wavy black hair, then her whitish face that freckles came to illuminate her Amazon green look, thin pink lips, a superb smile, my heart almost exploded! I was in love for the first time and for the first time I had another look at the woman.

She made me think of a mix between Sharon Stone, because she had a lot of class, haloed with great intelligence, and Kate Winslet both in her appearance and in the way of being (I don’t personally know these actresses, but what I think I perceive from them). She was small and very pretty.

She didn’t look at me like the other girls looked at me, we spent a lot of time together, at Arnaud’s, at Sans Soucis Park, at the cinema to see Basic Instinct, the days passed and the date of her departure was inexorably approaching.

One morning, we were in the park in front of the swans, sitting on a bench at the bottom out of sight, we took each other’s hand, dancing on our skins with our fingers caressing, we got closer to each other and we kissed, then we couldn’t get away, we were in heaven. There were 2 days left when we spent all our time together kissing and caressing each other. When she left, she and I were very sad, and we promised to write and call each other.

I no longer remembered the bet with Arnaud, it was he who told me: « you won » and crying I told him that I didn’t care at all because I loved this girl. And he overtolded that this story would never hold the road, that we would forget each other, that it was just a holiday love. This story lasted 2 years 2 months and 14 days (that’s what was written on the box where I put all his letters). And we still see each other today, we share a meal at the restaurant, we talk, we walk, and sometimes a long kiss is established between us.

The rest soon...

[pwlanier]

Wall of Sound

Budman — Jerry Garcia's Favorite McIntosh 2300 Amplifier

Solid-state power amplifier (10.5H x 19W x 17D), 300 watts per channel or 600 watts per monoblock, with anodized gold and black panel. Serial number: 1Y460. With original “Grateful Dead” black rolling road case with stickers and stencils.

"Big" Steve Parish: “Jerry played through Fender Twins and they were loud, but everyone always wanted to be louder for the big gig, especially outdoors. Dan Healy figured out how to take a line out from Jerry’s guitar amp, first into a McIntosh 350 tube amp during the early Wall of Sound set up. When the 2300 power amp came out we bought 70 of them, and put them throughout the system, but this is the one that Jerry liked the best and he played through it for years. It really made that Twin sound huge and became part of his signature tone at the time. At some point, Ram Rod stuck that Budweiser Budman sticker on it one day and it’s instantly recognizable as Jerry’s.”

Budman was essential to Garcia’s sound and became an icon in and of itself. The Grateful Dead’s commitment to playing live with the best sound possible led them to using audiophile, rather than commercial, sound equipment. The legendary build quality and low distortion of McIntosh fulfilled both the sonic and roadworthy requirements. An afternoon at the legendary Watkins Glen concert further influenced their concert set up, helping pave the way for the Wall of Sound. Janet Furman, amp technician for the Dead, remembered:

“One memorable tour in July, 1973, included a stop at the Watkins Glen Jam, held at the famed auto raceway. This all day outdoor concert featured just three super groups – the Grateful Dead, the Band, and the Allman Brothers. But that bill was enough to attract the largest crowd in rock history, if not in all of American history – 600,000, easily topping Woodstock’s smaller but better remembered crowd of 300,000. The Dead would need a massive amount of amplification to reach all those people. At the time, they insisted on using only McIntosh 2300 power amps, an audiophile rather than pro audio product, made in small quantity and hard to find on short notice. The McIntosh factory happened to be near Watkins Glen, in Binghamton in upstate New York. We were already backstage at the concert, and every road in the area was clogged with concert traffic. My assignment was to get five more of those giant amps, any way I could. Sam Cutler, the former Rolling Stones road manager now working for the Grateful Dead, handed me $6000 in cash and the use of a helicopter and pilot. Though it was a weekend and the McIntosh factory was closed, I tracked down the owner at his home. The pilot flew me from the venue to downtown Binghamton. Helicopter landings there were not an everyday affair, and there was great media interest. Flashbulbs popped and reporters stuck microphones in my face. In the summer heat, I was wearing only shorts and a concert T-shirt, with the cash wadded up in my pocket. I met up with the owner, who drove me to the factory and sold me the amps off the production floor. We drove back to town in his station wagon, his wife and kids aboard on their way to a summer vacation, and transferred the amps into the copter. At over 100 lbs each plus two people, it was a heavy load for a small helicopter. We had a very scary moment as we took off, coming within inches of crashing into a highrise building. But back at Watkins Glen, the sight of that enormous crowd from the air was unforgettable. In the moment I landed, delivering the goods, I became an instant hero.”

Sotheby’s

[something-tofightfor]

Tipping Point - 4

Pairing: Benjamin Greene x Julia Day … Benjamin Greene x Reader (friendship)

Word Count: 7409

Rating: M (language, marital issues)

Summary: After an ultimatum has been given and Benjamin returns to London, he begins taking the next steps. What does this mean for his future - and will Julia remain in it? 

Author’s Note: This is where it becomes very difficult to keep all of the show spoilers out, because in order to truly understand Benjamin’s decision, there has to be some basis in his past with Julia. I intentionally left things vague so that if you read, you understand SOME of it, but without spoiling EVERYTHING, I can’t go into more detail. I realize that this will make it difficult for some people, but I did it on purpose. If you want to know (in more detail) what Benjamin’s past is, or even what Julia’s past is, please feel free to ask. 

Though he’d enjoyed the days he spent alone while Zac and Bianca were away for the New Year’s holiday, Benjamin was happy to hear that they were on their way home. No more of me being alone with my thoughts. He’d cleaned the entire flat, unpacking more of his things into the spare room though the bulk of them were still in Devon, and while he didn’t feel at home, he felt more settled. This is… the future. 

 Julia hadn’t called him, and they hadn’t spoken since he’d left the morning after he’d given her an ultimatum. Benjamin’s hope for any sort of reconciliation dwindled by the day, but all he had to do was remember the look in her eyes as she’d watched him step away from the front door and into the cab to remind himself that it was likely for the best. She’d looked at him as if she was waiting for him to come to his senses and run back to her, telling her that things would be fine - that they didn’t need help, that she’d been right. But you weren’t. You aren’t. He missed her - missed the way that things had been between them, but the more he thought about it, the more Benjamin realized that he hadn’t been happy for much longer than he wanted to admit. He also realized that much of his relationship with the woman had involved him giving in to her whims - allowing her to ‘win’ nearly every conflict they’d had. Not this one. Not this time.

 He knew that he’d have to call her eventually, but Benjamin wanted to give her time to think, to miss him, to wonder if maybe she hadn’t been wrong about refusing to seek help. And I need to figure out what my next move is, too. Staying with Zac and Bianca wasn’t meant to be permanent, and though London was expensive, Benjamin had to admit that he’d missed it, despite what he’d said to James. Settling into life in Devon with Julia had been nice, but he’d lied to himself when he said that it was all he’d wanted - that he was perfectly fine living in the country, hours away from everything for the remainder of his life. I was happy to be with Julia, happy to be there with someone that I love, happy to try something new. “Was.” He spoke out loud to the empty flat, tilting his head back and rubbing a hand over his face. “Looks like I’m back.” 

 Finding a place to live wasn’t the only thing Benjamin concerned himself with, he was also looking into options for separation from Julia - if it came to that. Can’t give her the option to choose when to end this, because she won’t. He knew that she’d put things off until forced to act, and so Benjamin’s phone’s search history was virtually all terms like “divorce proceedings” and “legal separation”, along with “dissolution of marriage”. He wanted to be educated, and though there was a lot of overwhelming information, the most important thing was that no matter what they chose, they had options. We’ll have to sit down and discuss it. Benjamin stood, walking over to the balcony door and looking through it, watching as the city was drenched in a cold rain. 

 His eyes landed on The Shard, and he thought back to their anniversary dinner, the way she’d treated him that whole weekend, no matter how hard he tried to please her. That shouldn’t be the case. Two people that- His thought was interrupted by the ringing of his phone, and he answered it without looking at the screen, taking a deep breath. “Benjamin Greene.” 

 “Oy, Greene!” It was Zac, voice cheerful. “We’re back, can you come help us carry things in?” Benjamin turned, moving to the door and sliding his feet into shoes. “We’re in the lobby, but we can’t get it all at once.” He laughed, agreeing, and within a few minutes, Benjamin was riding the lift down, phone stuffed back into his pocket. His friends were indeed in the lobby, gift bags and their suitcases waiting, but the first thing Benjamin noticed was that Bianca had a ring on her left hand - the diamond glinting in the overhead lighting. After congratulating them, his arms going around Bianca tightly, Benjamin grabbed the girl’s suitcase and two of the gifts, turning to Zac and reaching out for his backpack. “You’re a lifesaver, Benjamin.” 

 They rode up the lift together, Bianca talking excitedly about the vacation they’d had; and by the time they got back into the apartment, Benjamin’s mind was focused on his friends - and not on his own relationship - for the first time in weeks. He helped them unpack, the three of them opening beers as they talked, and after learning that Zac had proposed over dinner two days after Christmas, Bianca crying so hard at the proposal that she’d nearly choked on her glass of wine, Benjamin couldn’t help laughing. “That’s very on brand for you two.” He raised an eyebrow, leaning back on the couch to look at them. “I’m happy for you. This is a long time coming.” They’d been together for longer than Benjamin had been with Julia, neither of them in any rush to get married. “You’ve seen me through two engagements, it’s time I see you -”

 “How’d your holiday go, Benjamin?” Bianca reached out, taking his hand in hers. “You’re still wearing your ring, so-”

 “Not well.” He shook his head. “She refused my idea of speaking with someone, and I told her that was unacceptable.” 

 “She didn’t … she wasn’t happy about that, I’m sure.” She was not. “I’m sorry, Benjamin. Are you… still together?” Bianca blinked slowly, her brown eyes full of concern. “Did she -”

 “I don’t think so, Bianca.” He lowered his head, the fingers of his right hand spinning the ring on his left. “I haven’t heard from her in ten days, and usually… well, it wouldn’t have gone on that long.” She wants me to cave. She wants me to come back to her.

 “Well you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.” Zac finally cut in, his arm around his fiancee’s shoulders. “You’ve got a place as long as…” Benjamin thanked him. 

 “About that, I’m going to start looking within the next week or so. Even if… even if she comes ‘round, I’ll still need a place for a few months, and I can’t put you out like that.” He shrugged. “I’ll find something short term, furnished. Maybe it will be good for me.” 

 “Wait.” Zac scratched the side of his head, frowning. “I was a little out of it by the time we left last month, but I think I remember Eric sayin’ that his roommate moved out because he graduated.” Eric? “Didn’t he, B? Stefan something?” 

 “Yeah!” The woman agreed, shifting on the couch. “That’s why the second bedroom was free.” I thought he just found something and didn’t care that there was an extra room. “When’s he back, Zac?” Holding up a finger, Zac pulled his phone out. 

 “He’s on the schedule Thursday, so he’ll be back then.” Zac looked up from the screen. “It’s a place to stay, Benjamin, if you’re not wanting to stay here with us.” It’s not that, I just…

 “You’re newly engaged, you need to enjoy that, and having me here while I’m going through… whatever it is I’m going through won’t be fun.” Benjamin frowned. “But he doesn’t know me, I can’t stay with him, that’s like moving in with a stranger.” 

 “No, but you know me. And he’s met you, so it’s much different than finding a roommate on the Internet.” Zac cleared his throat. “Do you want me to let him know you’re looking for a place?” Do I? Should I? He looked around the room, thinking. “It’s perfect, Greene. Short term, close to everything, and he’s on scholarship, so I’m sure it’s more affordable than finding something on your own.” Probably. He paused, still unsure. Moving out, into somewhere more permanent makes this real. Makes it… “Benjamin? I can bring it up when we work together next.” 

 Benjamin closed his eyes, remembering the way Julia had denied his requests to seek counsel, to work on things with help. He thought of the way she’d spoken to him, pleading with him to just pretend things were fine, to let their relationship continue to save face. To save her reputation. “No.” Benjamin cleared his throat. “Well, I … if you want to bring it up, that’s fine, but…” He wet his lips. “Eric friended me on Facebook, I’ll message him on my own later this week, too.” Take that step, Benjamin. You’ve got to. 

--- 

 Things happened quickly after that. Benjamin messaged Eric Wednesday evening, explaining his situation in simple terms, and by Friday, he’d taken the Underground to meet with Eric at his place, the two of them going over details. “Most of my rent’s covered already with what they’re giving me to study here,” Eric explained. “So you’ll be responsible for half of the remainder, which is just over £300 a month, but it includes utilities. Are you serious? He’d expected to pay triple that for a studio in a shady part of town, but as he looked around at the open space, he realized that despite everything going on, something  was working out for him. 

 “I’ll take it, Eric. If you’re sure. You don’t know me at all, and moving a stranger -”

 “Look, Benjamin.” Eric shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “I don’t know anyone here. When I got here to start classes, I didn’t even know Stefan, and that worked out well. You’ve known Zac for how long? That’s good enough for me.” He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “As long as you don’t mind me bringing home an occasional date, there’s nothing to worry about.” Of course not. 

 “This is your place, Eric. Hopefully I won’t… won’t be here that long.” He frowned as he thought of his last contact with Julia - a terse phone call when Benjamin had asked if he could come back to Devon and get his computer and a few more things that he’d need for work - one that had ended with her in tears on the phone as she agreed to him taking it, telling him that she would let him know when she could be away for the day so he didn’t have to see her. That’s not what I want, Julia. Not at all. But again, she’d made up her mind, and Benjamin knew that he wouldn’t change it. “I can wait ‘til February first if you -”

 “Whenever you want to move in is fine with me.” Eric stood. “Start paying on the first, but if you want to bring your stuff in before then, go for it.” Is it really this easy? Benjamin stood too, reaching out to shake the other man’s hand. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Benjamin, but I hope this is temporary for you. I hope that you and your wife can...” He frowned. “Get through it. You seem really upset, and it can’t be easy.” It’s not. Not at all. 

 “Yeah, me too.” 

--- 

 Benjamin moved in with Eric the following Friday, opting to borrow Zac’s car to transport all of his stuff, and the following day, he borrowed it again to drive out to Devon, not wanting to lug the computer back on the train. Julia was gone - as she’d told him she would be - and Benjamin wandered through the empty house, fingers trailing over the wallpaper. He’d lived there for more than two years, knew the house well, but he felt like a stranger within the walls. Was it ever home? After packing up his device, Benjamin pulled out his duffle and went through his drawers and closet, taking more of his clothes with him. There’s almost nothing left. 

 He wasn’t ready to take his other belongings - books, tools, things he’d accumulated throughout his relationship with Julia - but Benjamin couldn’t help lowering himself onto the edge of their bed, putting his face into his hands. He had no idea how long she’d be gone for, and had no way of knowing where she was, since she’d stopped sharing her location with him via her phone. But since he still had his on, he figured she wouldn’t even think of coming home until he was well on his way back to the city. Is this really how it ends? 

 Standing, Benjamin moved to the large windows that overlooked the yard, hands going into his pockets as he stared out over the landscape. This time, there was no welcome feeling of Julia’s arms going around his waist, no relief from her voice telling him that she loved him. There was no one there but Benjamin himself. She knew I’d be here. She knew I’d want to see her. She knew I wanted to talk. He blinked back tears, the house settling around him, and in that moment - as sure as he’d known that his life was just beginning on their wedding day - he knew that his marriage was over. She wouldn’t admit that they needed help and he refused to pretend that they didn’t. It’s really over. There’s… there’s nothing more that I can do. 

 He turned away from the window, walking slowly back through the house and stopped in the kitchen, where a bouquet of fresh cut calla lilies sat on the table, still wrapped in the paper. A note. He dug through one of the kitchen drawers, pulling out a pad and a pen, and then bent over the table, the tip poised just above the paper. What… what do I even? A few minutes later, Benjamin walked out the front door, ensuring that it was locked behind him and climbed back into Zac’s car, gripping the steering wheel tightly in both hands. The note he’d left had been short and simple - Julia -- I love you, and wish you’d been here. We need to talk, please call me - but he hadn’t been able to think of anything else that he wanted to put down onto a piece of paper. I want to talk to you face to face, but… He waited a few more seconds and then pulled out of the driveway, the place he’d called home for years disappearing in his rearview mirror. 

--- 

 Over the next month and a half, Benjamin settled into life in London with less difficulty than he would have expected. Julia had thanked him for the flowers later the evening he’d left them, sending him a picture of them in a vase in their bedroom, and he felt his heart thumping in his chest at the sight. She wants to look at them. But she hadn’t answered when he’d called only a few minutes later, and so Benjamin hadn’t tried again, instead opting to send text messages and wait for her to reach out.

 He’d started working, finding an editing job to tide him over while he looked for something that would allow him to use his degree, as well as tutoring a few university students in the evenings. But he was happier than he had been, more willing to go out and see his friends than to stay in Eric’s apartment and feel sorry for himself. He continued to save money, which he’d started to do while working part time as he attended classes, and with the reduced amount of rent and bills that he had to pay, Benjamin’s savings grew - and so did his confidence. 

 He still wore his wedding ring, still called Julia his wife, still refrained from reaching out to any of the legal teams he’d found, but Benjamin’s patience was wearing thin, especially as Julia ignored one of his phone calls as he traveled home from work late one night in March. She can’t ignore this forever. We need to decide. We need to… He emerged from the Edgware station, turning toward the flat, and was surprised to feel his phone vibrating in his hand. Julia. “Hello?” He stepped off to the side, ensuring no one would run into him and lifted the phone to his ear. “Julia?”

 “Where are you off from?” She sounded calm, and he realized that she was likely already relaxing for the evening, her early-season planting well underway. “Sounds like you’re outdoors.”

 “Just got off the tube from work.” He took a breath. “Headed back to the flat now.” His stomach rumbled. “Might stop for something to eat on my way though, haven’t had anything since lunch.” This is a normal conversation, this is progress. 

 “Benjamin, we need to talk.” The sound of the vehicles faded and his entire focus went to the phone held to his ear. Yes, we do. “This has gone on long enough, don’t you think?” 

 “Yeah, it has.” He swallowed, daring to hope. Maybe it’s not over, maybe… “We should -”

 “When are you coming back to Devon? You’ve made your point, Benjamin. I’ve been a horrible wife, and need to change and need to do what -”

 “No, Julia. That’s not my point.” He closed his eyes, the bridge of his glasses digging into his nose. “You’ve not been a terrible wife, we’ve just let this get away from us. I’m not here trying to make a point, I’m here because I wanted us to have time to think about what we could work on, how we could -”

 “We can do that, you and I.” She let out a breath and he heard it waver. “We can work through it, we can just see what happens.” No. 

 “We can’t.” He straightened up. “Julia, I’m still standing by the fact that we need to speak  with someone that knows what we can do to help, that will give us the best chance for… fixing it. I don’t know how many times I can say this. If you’re unwilling to see someone - and it seems like that’s the case - then it’s time we start looking into other options.”

 “Options?” Her tone sharp, she said only one word. 

 “Yes. Maybe…” He glanced up, the darkening sky nearly cloudless. “Maybe it’s time to look into what our legal options are.”  That’s not what I want, that’s not at all what I want. 

 “You mean divorce.” She used the word for the first time and Benjamin’s blood ran cold. “You want to divorce me.”

 “No. I don’t.” He sighed. “But if you’re not willing to seek help, there’s, I don’t know what we can do.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not having this conversation over the phone with you. Whatever we decide, we need to do it in person. I love you, Julia, but this isn’t a marriage. This isn’t happiness. And you… we both deserve better.” There was silence on the other end of the line, and Benjamin counted to five before he said anything else. “You know we do. I’m going to hang up now, and we can talk again s-” The line went dead, and he closed his eyes, swearing under his breath. I’m not wrong. 

 Benjamin opened his eyes, pulling the phone away from his ear and locking the screen before he slid it into the pocket of his jacket. And I’m not surprised. Blinking, Benjamin pushed his glasses onto the top of his head and took a deep breath. Nothing I can do about it tonight, I said what needed to be said. Taking a few steps toward the flat, he started running through his options for dinner. 

 --- 

 Twenty minutes later, Benjamin shifted the pizza box to one hand and used his key in the door with the other. “Eric?” He called out to his roommate, tossing his keys onto the small table next to the door. “Brought dinner, I didn’t -” His eyes landed on the man, who was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, laptop open in front of him. “Oh, you’re working, I’m -”

 “Benjamin?” He heard a voice coming from the computer’s speakers. “Is that you?” He laughed, stepping over and peeking around Eric’s shoulder to see your face taking up a majority of the screen. “What’s for dinner?” You grinned at him, Eric turning in his seat to see, too. 

 “Pizza.” He held up the box, shrugging his shoulders. “I got out of work late, and -” It was your turn to laugh, your nose wrinkling in disgust and Eric muttering “oh, here we go” under his breath. What? 

 “Domino’s? That’s not pizza, Benjamin.” You leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Come to Chicago, and I’ll show you real pizza.” He raised an eyebrow, setting the box down and leaning closer to the computer. 

 “It’s sauce and cheese and crust, which is the very definition of pizza, if I -”

 “You won’t win this argument, Benjamin.” You sighed, and Eric stood, moving over to the cupboards to get plates and cups. Oh, I guess this is my conversation now. “Eric told me you’d moved in,” you continued, switching topics. “I…” He watched you shake your head. “I’m sorry it came to that.” She means it. He could hear the sincerity of your voice, coming through the speakers from thousands of miles away. “I hoped you…” 

 “I did too.” He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thank you.” Both of you fell silent, and Benjamin found himself looking at the room you were in - a full bookshelf behind you, a window next to it, the corner of your bed visible. “Did you have a nice rest of your visit here? Make it to -”

 “You want to get into that conversation, have her call you, Benjamin.” Eric stepped back to the table, holding out a plate. “Dinner will be frozen before she finishes.” You swore at Eric, calling him an asshole, and Benjamin held his hands up in mock surrender. “Can I call you back when we’re done?” You nodded, glancing down. 

 “Yeah, I’ll be home for the rest of the day, so whenever.” What is she? Five, six hours behind us?” “It was good to see you, Benjamin. Hope my brother’s not being too much of a pain in the ass.” He assured you that Eric was a perfectly adequate roommate, which got another laugh out of all of you, and then you disconnected the call, the screen going blank. That was a surprise. 

 “She talked about you after that night you were here.” Eric took a bite of pizza, both men seated and with full plates a few minutes later. What? “Said she hoped it didn’t come to you staying with Zac and Bianca, that she hoped you got to go home.” I did too. “She also didn’t shut up on the flight home about the National Gallery, so thanks for that. She’s already talking about going to the British Museum the next time she comes here, so apparently your museums here have something that ours don’t because we’ve never stepped foot into any of the ones in Chicago.” Benjamin laughed at that, imagining you on your flight home, randomly bringing up exhibits that you’d seen, maybe even showing Eric pictures on your phone. Sounds like me the first time I went into the British Museum. “Do you have any siblings, Benjamin?” The question caught him off guard, and Benjamin stopped himself from shaking his head no. 

 “One. A brother, Kieran. We don’t speak, it’s… complicated.” Benjamin chewed through the crust of his pizza, thinking. “We’ve never really been as close as you two are, and I prefer it that way.” Once I wouldn’t have. But now… 

 “Families suck sometimes, Benjamin.” Eric took another slice. “I get it.” He’d been prepared to defend his answer, but instead of continuing the conversation, Eric changed the topic, asking if Benjamin had seen an episode of a TV show. Hmm. Is it really this easy? 

 --- 

 Later that night, Benjamin stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist before wiping the mirror off. She used the word divorce. He gripped the edges of the sink basin, looking down. But she wasn’t sad about it, she was… angry. He raised his gaze, staring at his reflection. He’d cut his hair just after moving in with Eric, but it was getting long again, and he’d stopped trimming his beard twice a week, letting it grow in thick. What would Julia think? Benjamin sighed, still gripping the porcelain. Does it matter? 

 He walked into his bedroom, closing the door behind him and sinking onto the bed, face in his hands. Divorce. Without removing the towel, he laid back, feeling the dip between the mattresses against one of his shoulders. After moving in, he’d pushed two of the single beds together, which gave him a larger space to stretch out. Though he didn’t move much in his sleep, Benjamin tended to sprawl out atop the sheets, and a single wouldn’t cut it. “She’s thinking divorce, and thinking it’s what I want.” He stared at the ceiling, watching as lights from passing cars filtered in through the mostly closed drapes. “I don’t want that. I still… fuck.” 

 He stared up, mind racing for nearly an hour, and it wasn’t until Benjamin noticed that he was spinning his wedding band with his thumb and little finger that he sat back up, taking a deep breath. There are other options. He knew there were - he’d gone over them endlessly, searching through websites and messageboards, looking up the experiences of others. It doesn’t have to be divorce, but… it means... Benjamin stood, walking to the closet and opening it, pulling out a pair of sweat pants and sliding his legs into them. Glad I’m off tomorrow, I won’t be sleeping tonight. 

 It was only a little after eleven, but when he opened his bedroom door, the living room was dark, the light escaping from beneath Eric’s door dim, as if he had the TV on and nothing else. Benjamin microwaved water, making himself a mug of tea, and carried it back to his room. Putting off what he’d meant to do, he powered on the computer, clicking through to his Facebook page and scrolling aimlessly for a few minutes, liking a few posts while his tea cooled slightly. No more waiting. This needs to… Benjamin opened another tab and let his fingers hover over the keyboard before he took a deep breath and started typing, hesitating before he hit “search.” The idea seemed more real as he stared at the words - ones he’d never thought to look into previously: Conditions necessary for annulment of marriage. Benjamin took a deep breath and clicked ‘enter’, waiting as the results populated. 

 An hour later, he was overwhelmed with information but oddly comforted that while he couldn’t give Julia what she wanted - his acceptance of her behavior - he could give her everything that he understood her to need: the ability to save face and not accept responsibility of any sort for the failure of the marriage. It’ll look like it’s all on me, and that’s... he rubbed at his eyes, feeling his fingers come away damp. It’s the only thing she’ll agree to. I know it. He started closing tabs, but when he got back to Facebook, Benjamin saw that he had a message request and clicked on the alert. What do you want? Curious when he saw that it was you that wanted to send the message, Benjamin clicked, feeling his lips curve upward into a small smile when he saw the contents. 

 It was a picture of a deep dish pizza atop what looked to be a plate in a restaurant, which Benjamin had to admit looked much better than the one he’d eaten earlier. After the picture was a single sentence, and it made him scoff, the smile still on his face. Told you that what you had wasn’t a real pizza. Benjamin stared at the image for a few seconds, debating on whether or not to answer back. Instead of typing, he clicked on your picture, opening your page. Much of the information was private, which he respected, because his page was the same way, and he backed out of it, going back to the message. You’d sent it almost an hour earlier, and Benjamin knew that you’d understand if he didn’t respond. She knows how late it is here.

 Again, his fingers hovered over the keyboard, but this time, it wasn’t in anxiety; instead, he was trying to think of something witty to say back to you. After a few seconds, he grinned to himself, satisfied with his reply. But why is the sauce on top of the cheese? He didn’t expect you to answer - and figured that you were still out - but a reply came back fast, causing Benjamin to laugh out loud. 

 I don’t know, I didn’t make it. That’s just how it is here. Before he could reply, another message popped up. Didn’t expect you to reply, Benjamin. He sighed, eyes on the screen. I shouldn’t have. Though he’d changed all of his passwords after bringing his computer to London, effectively locking her out on every possible device, there was still part of him that thought she would find a way to check in on him. But I’m not doing anything wrong. I never have, not with her. He still hadn’t said anything back to you, and Benjamin realized that his window of opportunity was closing. She’s my roommate’s sister, and who knows how long I’ll be living with Eric. There’s no harm. She’s in a different country. 

 “Stop rationalizing it.” He spoke out loud, the sound of his voice surprising him. Staring at the screen, Benjamin realized that he was right - he’d spent the better part of two years rationalizing his every action, every thought - to himself, to Julia, to the other members of the Day family. And for what? Unhappiness? Me moving out and being on the cusp of… “I won’t do it, not anymore.” He straightened his shoulders, tapping on the keys again. I’m glad I did, but now I’m hungry all over again. Benjamin waited a few minutes, but you didn’t say anything else, and so he closed the final window, shutting the device down. Without turning the light on, Benjamin went back into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, replaying the last few hours of the day in his mind. How’d you get here, Benjamin? 

 --- 

 Over the next few days, Benjamin lost himself in work, picking up extra hours and sending messages here and there to Julia, never really expecting a response - but when he got one the following Saturday morning, it wasn’t what he expected. “I’m on my way to London,” she said without any other greeting. “I figure that’s where we met, it’s where we should…” She sighed. “I’ve booked myself a room, so I won’t need to stay with you, but I thought that we could talk.” She’s coming here? “You live with someone, is he… will we be able to -”

 “Yeah, I can ask him if -”

 “No, don’t bother. I’ll give you my room number when I check in, and you can meet me. We’ll… we’ll have dinner, and...and then we can speak about this like adults.” Will we? Can we? He spent the next few hours pacing around his room, but when he got another message from her, he was calm. The hotel was the one that they’d first stayed in, which didn’t surprise him, and as Benjamin grabbed his jacket - the one she’d bought him for Christmas - and headed out the door, he was resigned. Whatever happens, happens. 

 By the time he arrived at the hotel, striding in and taking the lift up to the floor she’d directed him to, Benjamin had gone through at least ten different scenarios in his head. Most of them end poorly. Rolling his neck from side to side, he raised a hand, knocking on the door. She opened it a few seconds later, and Benjamin’s jaw dropped. “You’ve cut your hair.” 

 “I did.” She reached up, one hand touching the ends of it. “Do -”

 “It suits you.” She waved him into the room, and he immediately smelled  that she’d already had room service delivered. I guess we’re eating here. “I’m surprised you’re here, Julia.” He looked around, trying to find her suitcase, but all he saw was an overnight bag. Doesn’t plan on staying long. “It’s good to see you, I feel like it’s been… well, it’s been weeks.” He stared at her, looking for signs of distress on her face, and saw that while she looked tired, she didn’t look distraught, nor did she look like she was ready to fight. That’s a change. “You -”

 “Let’s eat, Benjamin. If… If we’re going to have the conversation that I think we’re going to have, I don’t want to be hungry.” Alright then. 

 They made small talk as they ate, Benjamin asking how her plants were and how her family was, Julia answering and then asking how his job was going, how he was liking being back in London. This is the most civil it’s been and the most interested she’s seemed in me since… “You’re still wearing your ring.” She spoke quietly, breaking the silence and reaching out to touch his hand. “I thought you’d have taken it off after…”

 “No, I… we’re still married, Julia. I’m still hoping. Still thinking that maybe…”

 “I need you to understand, Benjamin.” Julia swallowed the last of her drink, eyes locked on his face. “I need you to really understand why I’m so against speaking with someone, why I don’t think it will help.” Here we go. “These things don’t work the same for everyone, you know? We might go and have him or her tell us what they think will work, what we need to do, how we need to face this. But what about what I think? And then I’ll have to tell people that we needed help, that I still don’t always feel like I can trust you, that we…”

 “And what have you told them about where I am now, Julia?” He flipped his hand over, linking his fingers with hers. “Has anyone asked?” He counted in his head. “It’s been nearly four months, surely someone -”

 “You’ve got a job, I’ve told them the truth.” She laughed. “Everyone’s asking if I’m moving here with you, at least part time, which makes Patrick and Della happy, because… I’d be closer, but we’d still keep the house, and…” She sighed. “I’ve just said that I don’t know yet, that we’re still waiting to see if this job is something you keep.” So it’s on me. He blinked at her, waiting. “Seeking help means I’ve failed Benjamin, and when people find out - and they will, they always do, it’ll ruin me, especially if they find out about Ted.” 

 “So you’d rather keep your reputation intact than the marriage?” He wasn’t angry; Benjamin just felt numb, hearing the words leave Julia’s mouth. “You’d rather not risk what you’ve rebuilt after what happened between Ted and Marsha, even if it means losing me?” 

 “It’s not that easy, Benjamin. You don’t know what it’s like to have everyone whispering about you, about your shortcomings, about your failures, about…” But I do. “I want to be with you. I love you, Benjamin, but I’ve worked too hard to risk anything changing with my -” He cut her off, shifting on his chair and leaning in. 

 “I get it.” I do. I really do. “You’ve worked hard to earn the respect of your peers, Julia, to re-earn it from your kids, especially after everything recently.” Benjamin swallowed. “But I’ve worked hard, too, Julia, since I…” He stopped himself, squeezing her hand. “Since everything happened.” Since I stopped being Sean. “I lied to myself for years about Kieran, about what he’d done, about what I did for him, and I can’t do that again, not for someone else’s happiness, not ...not even for someone else that I love.” She exhaled, and Benjamin saw a tear rolling down her cheek as she nodded.  

 “I know.” She said the words with finality. “I’ve known for a while, but I hoped… I hoped you’d just decide that it was all worth it, that the m… that I was worth it.” Still about the money, but now she’s trying to use it as a bargaining chip.

 “You’d hate me for it, Julia. And hate yourself, because you wouldn’t be happy.” He smiled, reaching out with his free hand to swipe the moisture from her cheek. I wouldn’t be happy. I’m not happy. “Doesn’t this feel good? Being honest?” She nodded, leaning into his touch. “This, right here, is why I think that seeing someone would help, because we’re … we’re on the same page right now, we’re talking instead of snapping at each other, instead of… there’s no pretending right now.” 

 “There’s not.” She wet her lips. “Please come home, Benjamin. There’s got to be a compromise, we can -”

 “The only compromise would be seeing someone, because Julia, I know you. I’ll come home and we’ll be alright for a while, but once the novelty wears off and things get bad again? You won’t speak with anyone. You’ll remind me that it’s all about your image, about what people think, that our problems aren’t that bad, that it all goes back to trust and we’ll be in this same situation again.” She stared at him, still not saying anything, but he could see in her eyes that she agreed with him. “Over and over, for the rest of our lives. Is that what you want?” Because it’s not what I want. Not like this.

 “So what happens then? We get divorced? You get half, and I have to listen to my children talk about how right they were? About how they could have saved me this heartache and their inheritance by listening to them in the first place? I have to see Ted’s smug -” It shouldn’t be about Ted. Not anymore. This should be about us. 

 “No.” Benjamin straightened up, glancing up at the ceiling. “No, Julia, I don’t want anything from you. I never did; it wasn’t about the money or the things you’d leave me, or what status this marriage would give me. It was always just about you and me.” She looked confused. It’s not always about money. “I… think I figured it out.” 

 “What do you mean?” She pulled her hand away from his, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “How can we end this if…” 

 “A marriage can be annulled, Julia, if it’s found that one person deceived the other.” Her eyes widened, and though Benjamin tried his hardest to keep it steady, his voice shook. “We’ve not been married long enough that it’s unthinkable that I was able to hide my past from you until now.” She was quiet, and Benjamin knew that she hadn’t even contemplated this option. She really thought that I’d give in… “So we’ll tell them that … that you found out about me, and that… that’s a lie big enough to warrant…” 

 “But the kids already know that I know something’s -” It doesn’t matter. They don’t know everything. 

 “I told you, at our reception, that you knowing exactly who I am and what I’ve done is terrifying.” She nodded once - a tiny, almost imperceptible movement of her head. “And I also told you that I knew we were going to be OK.” 

 “You did, Benjamin, and that’s why -” He cut her off, violently shaking his head back and forth, teeth digging into his lower lip. 

 “It’s been a struggle since the beginning, Julia. And we both knew it would be, but I think…” This is it. “You thought you’d be able to get past the kids not accepting me because they don’t trust me, but you haven’t. And you won’t. The truth is that they mean more to you than I ever could no matter how much you love me, and that’s why you’ve been so quick to give in to them when you hold out on me.”

 “And you blame me for that?” Her voice rose slightly, anger brightening her eyes. 

 “No, never. They’re your family.” He leaned in, taking both of her hands. “But we’re at an impasse. Right here and now. If either of us were going to change our minds, it would have happened already. We’re going to be OK, Julia, but it’s not going to be together, because no matter what I do, no matter how honest with you I am, you’ll never trust me - not fully, because they don’t.” He was crying; he could feel it, the warm streaks of tears coursing down his cheeks. “The best way to fix that is to show everyone that you did nothing wrong, that it was all me.” Even though it’s not entirely true. “I lied to you. I hid my past from you.” 

 “But I don’t care about any of that, Benjamin. I told you that. I wouldn’t have married you if -”

 “You told me in that church yard that in the beginning, you didn’t leave me any room, right?” She agreed. “If I come back - back to Devon, back to you, back to our marriage, that’s still true. We were alright for a while, and it was perfect, Julia, but … the fact that we both know what’s wrong now, and can’t fix it? That you won’t risk your reputation to fix it?” He trailed off. I’m not in the wrong here.

 “It’s over, isn’t it.” There was a long pause, and then Julia answered her own question. “You’d really agree to making what… what you went through public for me?” Not just for you, but sure.

 “It’s the only solution, the only way to make sure that you… that we don’t get dragged through a mess and make this worse than it has to be.” He sighed. “I looked it up. It usually takes about six months, but if neither party contests it, it can be done more quickly, though we’d have to appear in court so I could explain the circumstances.” Benjamin closed his eyes. “And then it’s like it never happened, like…” 

 “But we’d be lying.” She reached out, her fingertips landing on his face, moving over the skin there. “You’d be lying for me, even after…” 

 “At least this time, it would be worth it.” Kieran’s face flashed through his mind and Benjamin hung his head, lips meeting Julia’s palm. They sat in silence for a few minutes and then Julia spoke, saying his name quietly. 

 “You’ve looked into this more than I have. S..send me some options, and we’ll get things … Damn it, Benjamin.” Julia stood, walking to the window and looking out over the city. “This doesn’t need to…” You know what needs to happen, to stop this, Julia. Just accept that we need someone’s guidance, and we can work through it, but not by ourselves.

 “We tried, Julia. Tried hard.” We could have tried harder. 

--- 

 He left her room soon after that, declining her offer for him to stay the night, and by the time he got off the tube at his stop, it was raining. Perfect. He hurried back to the flat, splashing through the puddles on the sidewalk yet staying mindful of the other people on the way. It’s freezing out here. Benjamin opened the main door and hurried up the single flight of stairs, shivering as he used his key to unlock the door and step inside, hoping that Eric was already asleep. I don’t want to see anyone, I don’t want to… But as he locked the door, Benjamin’s eyes landed on the ring he still wore, resolve giving out and his knees collapsing as he sunk to the ground. Drawing his knees up, Benjamin lowered his head, forehead resting atop them as his arms wrapped around his legs. It’s over. It’s over and she gets to save face while I… 

 Though he wasn’t paying full attention to anything but his own actions, Benjamin heard movement from the other side of the room. No, I don’t… 

 “Hey, I’ve gotta go.” Eric looked over from his laptop, eyes on Benjamin’s lanky frame. “Benjamin just got home, and he’s...something’s wrong.” 

--- 

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[kuchee]

novelty / 2.7k / read on ao3; back on the trash train for a festive theme 🎁 right on time for @styleweek day 6 - holiday!

Kyle curses under his breath and backspaces several times. It's hard to write a text with only his thumbs poking out of his gloves, but he's damned if he's going to actually take them off in the freezing cold.

To: Stan 1.11PM

Can you come over and keep me company while I fry a gajillion donuts for my mom?

To: Stan 1.13PM

please?

There's no point in being annoyed about the situation–– it's not like he had any actual plans for today, other than mentally steeling himself for the family gathering tonight. Frying donuts is as good an activity as any to pass the time. He's always dreaded this time of year, when his mother hosts her extended family for the evening, usually on the first night of Hanukkah. Kyle gets saddled with the responsibility of making nice with dull cousins and answering invasive questions from aunts about his future. Last year he'd even gotten a couple of pointed remarks regarding hypothetical girlfriends.

The food is almost worth it, however.

He glances down to the miserably empty tote bag slung from his shoulder as he digs his keys out of his coat pocket. His failed attempt at gift shopping this morning is another reminder of how woefully strange the holidays are for him. He doesn't even know why he tried to get Stan a present. They don't do this normally–– it's no one's birthday. He just thought, it's different now. It's what a boyfriend should do, right? As a good boyfriend, he should be getting Stan a present, because Stan likes Christmas, and Stan loves presents. He was that kid who would be thrilled every year when his parents let him open one on Christmas Eve, even though they'd be like, pajamas, every time.

A string of buzzes makes his phone jump on the counter while he's untying his shoes.

Ma 1.17PM

You're an angel :)

Ma 1.16PM

Dough is covered on the dining table, pans in the cupboard above the sink.

Stan 1.14PM

Be there in 20. Want anything from store

Both texts make him smile through the mild distress haunting him since morning, the realisation that he has no idea what the fuck to get for Stan. While he's worrying about presents, Stan's still repeating the same line from when they were fifteen.

He knows where the dough is, he spied it before he left this morning, and presently he's attempting not to quail at the thought of getting through that amount. His mom had called while he was in the car–– she's out with Dad getting a few last-minute items from the warehouse store out of town, and an accident on the highway has put them an hour behind schedule, possibly more.

He doesn't mind. Living away for real has made him starkly aware of how little responsibility he had while living at home, and more than that, he wants to help out, especially if Stan comes to keep him company. These dinners stress his mom out, too.

Kyle gathers everything he needs, and at the last moment, decides to put on an apron. He doesn't want to have to change into anything else for tonight. He thinks he knows how to make the donuts, he's watched his mom do it through the years and helped her on occasion. She certainly assumed he did. His hands are sticky with dough when he hears footsteps in the corridor. He glances at his phone. Fifteen minutes, not twenty.

Stan enters the kitchen with a brief "hey, dude," and a smile that's probably less starry-eyed than the way Kyle's interpreting it.

The cold from outside radiates off him, but it's not enough to quell the urge Kyle gets to lean over and squeeze him. He settles on a smile, raising powdery white hands to show why he can't do more.

Stan promptly empties his backpack (firm on this front; he'd been the one to wean Kyle off plastic bags): chocolate chip cookies, a couple protein bars, and a bag of chips that he opens up, offering one up to Kyle's mouth.

Kyle eyes the flavouring on the packet, bacon cheddar, and then Stan, pointedly. "Really? Of all days?"

Stan rolls his eyes. "They're vegan. And like you care, anyway."

Kyle leans forward and takes it, and then two more, hoping this doesn't mean that Stan is attempting that again. His cheeks burn belatedly as he chews, with the dawning understanding that Stan just fed him, and they didn't do that before, but by the time he realises it, Stan has ducked away to the coffee maker.

"I thought you'd wanna be out," he says beneath the crinkle of the bag of chips. "Don't you need time to charge up before tonight?"

"I was out shopping. But my mom's stuck in traffic so she needs me to help her get ahead on preparations."

Stan nods his acknowledgement, and if he can read any hesitancy in Kyle's tone about his morning activities, he doesn't mention it. "Anything I can help with?"

"Can you dig out the lights? They should be in a box in the living room."

Stan returns with said box a minute later, dumping it on the counter a few paces from Kyle. Kyle's almost finished cutting out circles of donuts by now. They work side by side in silence. Kyle drums his fingers and watches the meter rise on the thermometer he sticks in the oiled pan, while Stan untangles the sets of fairy lights. Kyle's wondering if he should just give in and ask Stan "what they're doing about presents," when Stan speaks up and interrupts the thought.

"Are you coming for Christmas? My mom really wants you to come this year." The acute stare Stan directs his way indicates more than that – it's asking, does she know about us? Kyle wouldn't mind if she did, and he tells Stan as much through an easy nod. But it's still one step closer to his parents knowing, and he doesn't know if he wants to deal with that yet. Maybe after the holidays.

"I'll see," he says, giving up on the thermometer, which seems to be stuck at 300 no matter how high he turns up the heat. "For sure if my parents are away. But they might wanna spend more time together after Ike gets here." Ike––luckiest bastard in the whole town-–gets to skip the Hanukkah dinner because his vacation only starts a few days after. Kyle wishes he was still in college, just for that.

Suddenly, Stan lets out a surprised huff of laughter. Kyle turns to see him lifting a sprig of something olive green out of the box. It's an artificial mistletoe decoration with a huge, garish red ribbon wrapped around the stem.

"Dude, why do you even have this?" Stan says laughingly, lifting it in the air.

Kyle shakes his head at the absurd trinket. "I think Ike was trying to convince some girl to kiss him in high school. Probably." Stan nods but doesn't put it down, twiddling it between his thumb and forefinger with a distant expression. Kyle watches him from the corner of his eye. "What?" He smiles slyly, but it easily devolves into a snigger. "You thinking about whether you might finally get a hot girl to kiss you?"

"Blow me," Stan says without missing a beat. He smirks, but only for a moment. He puts the mistletoe down and turns to Kyle, that pensive look back in his eyes. "I really want you to come, too," he says. "I think– I'm pretty sure she does know," he glances at the ground, and then back up at Kyle again. "And I don't know, the way she was asking, and the way I answered, it was different than normal. It's like if you came, I'd be confirming it." He smiles, "Also, I need you there to drive me off a cliff when Dad starts getting drunk and trying to be buddies with Shelly's boyfriend twenty minutes into dinner."

That's fair reasoning, too. It's what he did last year, except it was up into the mountains, not off the edge of a cliff.

"Dude," Kyle says, turning to face him too, a little stunned at how shy Stan seems over this. It's not really a big deal, because Stan's mom is like, a sensible person, and they are close, but that just makes it prod warmer in Kyle's chest. Flour be damned. He puts his arms around Stan's shoulders, avoiding touching anything with his hands. "I'll come."

Stan squeezes him, his arms drawing tight and so warm around Kyle's waist, travelling up to his back. Kyle sighs contentedly. So that was a conversation. Sort of.

Stan leans his chin over Kyle's shoulder. "Also, your oil is burning."

Kyle pulls away, making a sound of utter annoyance. By the time he's got everything under control––and yes, maybe the donuts are looking a little too brown, whatever, they'll still be delicious–– Stan has returned to untangling lights. Kyle feels a little bad for giving him such a tedious task and thinks about swapping for the next round of dough-cutting and frying.

The next thing Stan finds in that box puts it out of his mind completely. Stan gapes. "Holy shit, dude. I made this."

He holds up a transparent plastic bauble in his palm, the size of a tennis ball, maybe a little bigger. "Dude," Kyle says, staring in wonder as the memory returns. It must have been something like fourth grade, when they were doing 'fill your own baubles' in class. Kyle had been irritated. It was right at the time he was becoming fully aware of just how pervasive this Christmas fervour was, and really only starting to be clued in that maybe it was that that made him feel so alone this time of year. A little estranged, uneasy, but nothing he could pinpoint to blame for it. Until he really thought about it. Kyle had spent the whole afternoon angrily snipping paper into non-denominational snowflakes, stuffing them into a cheap husk of a bauble that was too small in the end, for his creation to look anything like he wanted it to. Seething inside about if any of these teachers in this stupid school realised not everyone had stupid trees to hang stupid baubles off of, not everyone cared.

Stan hadn't gotten it – come to think of it, he had barely been paying attention – when Kyle ranted about it the day before. Kyle was too absorbed in his resentment to even talk to him during class. But afterwards, when he was stomping his way home, Stan had caught up with him, snow crunching wildly under his boots. Kyle turned to bark a warning at him not to run so he wouldn't slip, a recent careless injury of Stan's fresh and alive in his mind, but by the time he did, Stan was inches from him, panting, his gloved hands outstretched.

"Kyle, I made you this," he had said, breathless. "I know you're sick of all the Christmas shit."

Kyle looks at the bauble in Stan's palm now. It's a snowglobe. Stan had turned the bauble upside down, no string, and steadied the base with cardboard and tape. Tiny pieces of polystyrene snow littered the bottom. A minuscule toy car Stan had carried in his pocket once or twice was parked next to the flat facade of a house, coloured with thick marker ink– Kyle's house. Stan had been at the very cusp of a goth phase, which explained why the colours weren't exactly bright enough to recognise, but the stick-figure of Kyle standing by the door had resolved any doubt.

Kyle laughs delightedly at the memory and Stan holds it closer to the light from above the cooker so he can observe it, an identical grin plastered on his face. The scene has been dislodged a little from where everything initially was, from the years of being jostled around in the box, and the craftsmanship is a little less impressive than he had found it to be age eight, but the glowing warmth that had struck him, standing with Stan in the snow halfway to the bus stop in that grey afternoon, is unmistakable. Just as striking now as it was then.

Kyle thinks he's made peace with all the bells and whistles of the Christmas season; he's learnt to sympathise with the sentiment, if not the expression, of the way it fevers over a small town like this. People just need something to get them out of the routine, that's all.

His hands are oily so he doesn't want to take the snowglobe, get grease all over it, even noting how ridiculous that might sound referring to a decade-old flimsy school project. Instead his eyes dart around, spotting the mistletoe––considerably less valuable–– and he picks it up with a bashful smile in an attempt to convey what he's feeling.

"Seriously?" Stan's laughing again.

"Yes," Kyle says, grinning, glowing. It's not often he feels like he can catch Stan off guard with this kind of thing.

"Dumbass," Stan declares, before crossing the space between, a feeble attempt at a beleaguered sigh lost in yet more laughs.

Stan kisses him with both hands around his face, direct, unusual. It might be partly a way to avoid all the oil on Kyle's apron – his fastidious cleanliness in every other aspect of life never seemed to translate to any sort of ability in the kitchen. Kyle knows he's smiling dopily when Stan takes a step back, his cheeks a now-familiar red under the harsher lights above the cooker. They look at each other until Kyle has to stop to look at the donuts.

He speeds through another batch, and finally, all the frying is done. Once he has the sugar prepared to dust them, Kyle stops, brushes his hands down on his apron and says, "Stan, do I get you something? For Christmas? Is that a thing we're doing?"

After a few seconds, Stan says, thoughtfully, "I do have something for you."

Kyle gives a nervous laugh. He thought right– it is what they're doing now. But did Stan think he had to now, because they're in a relationship, or does it feel more natural for him, and did he know what to get Kyle–– or is he overthinking it?

Because Stan is smiling, and then his shoulders are shaking, and then he's laughing. It's not mean–– but Kyle doesn't feel like he's in the know, either.

"What?"

"I have an idea for a gift," he says. "Or you could say–" he coughs surreptitiously, advancing on Kyle. "-a favour." Stan leans forward and tilts his chin into a lingering kiss.

Oh. Well.

When Kyle's done enjoying that, he says, "You dick. I'm trying to have a meaningful conversation here."

Stan blinks. "So am I," he says innocently. "Please respect my Christmas traditions, Kyle."

"Fuck off."

"Fine, what about Hanukkah?" Stan asks, still too close for comfort, and still with that trace of embarrassment around the edges of his voice.

"It's not even about presents," Kyle emphasises, rolling his eyes.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what I was getting you," Stan says, the stare through his lashes over-the-top and playful. His arms circle Kyle, braced on the counter either side of him. Kyle's embarrassed to admit it still works. Some other feeling is decidedly overtaking his burgeoning hunger from the smell of donuts.

"What?" he demands, eyes level with Stan's.

Stan tilts his head back. "Well since you don't want them…"

"What?" Kyle breathes again, and finds himself hoping with only a little shame that the traffic is still hellish out there. He lets his hand wander in the vicinity of Stan's pelvis, come back up and stop flat above his stomach, close to his quickening heart.

"Well I was gonna blow you, um, eight times."

Kyle can't help how his eyes widen.

"For every day of Hanukkah," Stan says. His voice wavers with the effort not to laugh, "that's– that's how it works, right?"

Kyle collects himself before he can burst out laughing at the ridiculousness – not an easy task. He manages to smirk despite the heat pooling fast in his face from the, uh, generosity of Stan's gift idea. "So, is that my present or yours?"

Stan's expression remains remarkably cool at his retort; Kyle is surprised to read only a little embarrassment in it. Asshole. He coughs and smiles, leaning into Kyle, "Does it matter? It's the thought that counts, dude."

[mydearsaddiary]

Speakeasy Tonight Neil Season 3 Fanfic

Neil Season 3- Chapter 3

Hello! For those of you who don’t know Im writing a fanfic on how I’d imagine Neil Season 3 to go! This is chapter 3, here’s a link with all the chapters: https://mydearsaddiary.tumblr.com/NeilSeason3Fanfic

Little Curiosity notes: Because this chapter is all about the high society of BAHS-ton, there’s some currency involved! I put the amount in 1926 dollars, in parenthesis I adjusted it according to inflation on how much it’s cost today!

WARNING: LOTS OF ANGST AND DRAMA. LIKE SO MUCH DRAMA.

Chapter 3- Ghosts Are Alive in a Haunted Night

1926

The way to Boston was long. The anticipation built was driving me over the edge. I’ve been around the upper crust of Chicago, but even so most of them seemed like new money. Extravagant women who just got their hands on dough and bought everything they could. The upper crusts I met in Chicago weren’t elegant, they just had money in their hands. Even so I felt like an imposter amongst them.

I had a perception Neil’s family would be different. They were the true high society. Money was in their roots and they’ve never lived without it. For generations and generations I imagined most of them never worked, but increased their riches by letting others do the work for them.

I noticed when Lucille wrote to Neil, she always signed “Lucille Dresner of Boston”. Only the wealthy referred to themselves with their hometown attached to their name like “The Dresners of Boston”. They measured each other by how prominent of a family they were. For the first time I didn’t think of Neil as just Neil. I imagined him as “Cornelius Dresner of Boston” or “Cornelius of the house Dresner from Boston” or some fancy Jane Austen society title I could never imagine myself belonging to.

I knew Neil was living in an apartment in Chicago, living the same economic life as I did right now by choice, but that didn’t change where he was from or who his family was. For the first time I also realized that you could notice the high class in Neil in his personality.

There was just something in him that distanced him from people like Cliff or Vince who’d come from nothing or even me, who came from some but not as much. I thought of the elegancy, the way he never let himself look like a fool, the fact that he was highly educated, enjoyed chess like no other, the fact that it was easy to look at him and respect him. He had the air of being classier than most. He had his troubles and he wasn’t some snob who thinks he is better than everyone, but something in me said I needed to step up to the gentry, who breathed old money and who would judge me as middle class.

I looked down at the dress I chose for the trip. It was a delicate red. I always thought it was a good color on me, but it wasn’t the best dress (or the best shoes) I could be wearing

I looked at Neil who looked so calm he could have no idea of the internal battle that was happening in my mind. However, I felt guilty for struggling so much. Neil hadn’t seen his family in years, they’d probably be talking and paying so much attention to him that they wouldn’t even have time to look at what I was wearing

Nevertheless when we stepped out of the train in Boston I felt trapped. When I first got to Chicago, it seemed like the city was bursting, it was like my world had expanded and there was no seeing its end. In Boston I got a different feeling. The elegancy, tall buildings and the cold air engulfed you in its atmosphere and urged you to climb the social ladder. It seemed to tell you if you didn’t, you were bound to fail

-Hey…-It was the first time I said something in at least half an hour- I’ve been dying to see the fashion stores in Boston. Whaddya say you take me to see one, just to look around the city for a bit before we go?-I held his arm firmly

-Is the calm and steady Miss Granger nervous to meet my parents?- He got back at me from what I said in Columbus

-Alright, alright, this point goes to you!- I giggled nervously more than playful- I am, alright. Nothing calms my nerves better than shopping for a new outfit

-There’s a store nearby Lucille loved when she was younger. Can’t make any promises it’s still open.

-Doesn’t hurt to try!-I followed him around

It took a little while for Neil to remember the exact spot of the store and kept saying “It’s somewhere along this street”. While I followed him I looked around with interest. The city was full of cars and people. Constructions happened all around and every building was glued to the next one. Two words to describe it were: Completely packed. It seemed like the whole New England lived there. People were moved fast like all of them were in a hurry and it contrasted Columbus in a way it did make me feel like I came from the middle of nowhere. Among the cars there was a policemen on horseback flying by, it struck me as one more thing engulfed by the modernization and craziness that I found myself in. Chicago’s population surpassed Boston’s by a lot, but it was funny how I felt lost in that new city in front of me. Maybe I’d gotten used to Chicago so it didn’t seem that big anymore

And I thought I was ready for Boston

-Was Boston always this full?- I walked holding him tightly, afraid I could lose him in the crowd.

-Full of buildings and people? Yeah, it always was. Although before the war there used to be less cars, floor-length dresses and high hats- He pulled me in into a building, inside it was revealed a store as huge as Menken’s- Here it is, still open

The store was cream-colored with eccentric chandeliers around. I could see at least two floors. I never managed to bring Neil shopping with me before, so I might as well enjoy it.

I took a look around at different dresses. Something had gotten to me though. Look at the price of those dresses! I could buy at least ten dresses at Menken’s for the price of some of these!

If it was Lucille’s favorite store, at least before, then of course everything would be expensive. I swear I found a dress that was $300 (~$4300)! You could buy a new car nowadays with that kind of money. However, my expression remained calm. I looked at Neil sometimes but he didn’t even mention anything about the prices. I felt myself in the obligation to act like it was all normal to me

I remembered some conversations me and Neil had in the past: “Act like you’re entitled to the world”, “You positively grow with middle-class respectability”, “You’re not gonna wear sables and diamonds and be rude to the help, are you?”, “They’ll know you’re not one of them. But you’ll never notice when they’re looking down on you, that’s how people in high society treat people like you and Charlie”. I sighed in despair

-What is it? Nothing matches your photoplay dream?-He said sarcastically behind me and I noticed I had been staring at a dress for too long, lost in my own anxiety- I thought you said shopping lifted your spirits.

-Oh, nothing!-I looked at him- I was just thinking about the Ice Box that’s all, I was worried that-

-MC, I know you’re deeply infatuated with your illegal activities, but there’s nothing you can do from Boston

-I know- I let it go, it was just an excuse anyway. I was excited about the vacation and I couldn’t let the whole pressure just make me crumble. I had to prove to Neil that I was able to deal with whatever life threw my way. We were going to work this out together

-Say, why don’t you keep shopping? I’ll wait outside, all this glitter is hurting my eyes

-Alright, yea, I shouldn’t take long- I gave him a quick peck before he went out, I could see him grabbing a cigarette before turning my attention to the dresses

Alright, MC, you need to choose something classy enough but that won’t burn your pockets. Now, where do I find something that’s doesn’t cost more than $15 (~200)? I could spare that, it’s a special occasion.

Wishing I could have some gin in me right this second I went through the embarrassment of asking if they had anything around the price range I wanted. My luck was that there was a dress that was worth $100 (~1450) that was about to be thrown away because the zipper was broken. When I looked at the dress I didn’t understand why they’d throw it in the can.

It was beautiful. It was this pale pink color with a V-neck. The sleeved has the same gold details as the dress, but otherwise it was transparent. The details on the pale pink went down in waves until right below the knees. I smiled at it, it was perfect for the event of meeting Neil’s parents, and I’ve never worn anything like that.

I asked her if I could have it and she shrugged in a manner like she didn’t understand why I was even there. I couldn’t blame her, I didn’t know either. I got the dress for $20 (~280), it was more than I could at the moment, but I was just happy to have found something I could afford and still look ritzy in

Due to the extra money spent I couldn’t really go looking for shoes or accessories, but I wasn’t worried. What I had would work for this.

-Alright!- I caught Neil outside- I’m ready, first impressions are everything! Now I just need somewhere to put this stuff on!

Yes… Like the back of a rental car in a dark alley…

-It’s so convenient nowadays, you know, they started renting cars and everything right- I said huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf in the back seat getting my dress off and the new one on- So you can change in the middle of the road too

-I thought this way we could go places without having to use one of my family’s cars- Neil waited in the driver’s seat

-What’s wrong with your family’s cars, huh? Not ritzy enough for ya?-I put on the dress to realize it didn’t close in the back. Shoot! I forgot to ask what happened to the zipper. Think, think, think!

-It’s the contrary- Neil responded- If I remember well from back then, I always felt like I was in a circus truck, doubt they changed the way they do things- He seemed to hear me struggling- Do you need help back there?

-No! Nope! I am just fine- I said putting a pin on the zipper so this way it wasn’t broken anymore. It closed all the way up! The only thing was the pin showing a little bit on the top, which looked a little tacky, but with all the details in the dress it could be overlooked

-Let’s hurry then, I told them we should be there for lunch. With your little shopping going on, we’re late

-Sorry!- I put on my rhinestone tiara and went through my bag to find my golden pair of heels that matched the details on the dress, then I hurried up to the front seat- I’m ready, let’s scram!

Neil started to drive, I could feel him a little tense as he drove. I put on my hand on his leg squeezing it- Are you excited?

-When I left Boston I was twenty-four. I haven’t been back since

-Neil- I calmed my voice- They’ll be happy to see you, they’ll be thrilled. Especially Lucille, I really can’t wait to meet her. How old is she?

-We’re about ten years apart, she’s the youngest. So she should be about twenty-two right now. Damn…-He went quiet for a few seconds- When I left she was fourteen, now she’s a woman, married and is about to have a baby.

-Oh, little Cornelia- I smiled thinking about it

-Don’t remind me, I still feel for the kid

-Can it, Neil! It’s sweet. I can’t imagine how she must have felt when she got a letter in the mail from you

-I can’t believe I let you convince me to go through with this-He shook his head

-Hey, pal, I didn’t say anything! You wrote the letter to her yourself

Neil smiled, as if there was something in his thoughts he didn’t want to say out loud- I know.

We pulled up to a narrow street full of four stories apartments- I didn’t know they lived in a flat- I said, a little confused. I expected it-

-They’re not flats-Neil responded- They’re houses

My eyes widened looking again at the row of houses with my new perspective. It was pure Boston Brahmin. The houses were glued to one another, only separated by color, each of them were massive once I understood the four stories were for each family. Rows of fancy cars were parked in front of each designated house and U.S. flags stood in front of each one.

Neil parked in front of an elegant brick house, it was full of organized windows and one big wooden door stood right in the middle of the ground floor.

-Is this where you grew up?- I opened the car door on my side

-No, this is just the city house. I’d spend a lot of time here, but usually we’d be down by the estate

-Estate?- I turned to him, wondering if my ears heard right- Your family owns a estate?

-About 15 miles out of the city- He said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I focused on my breathing not to let myself get too nervous. “Act like I’m entitled to the world” is what I kept playing in my head. I went around to meet Neil and then I noticed his look was distant

-Neil?-I shook him a little bit and he looked down at me, his face was not upset, but the usual mask wasn’t there either- What’s the matter?

He hesitated a little bit. Being back here must be hard. It’s still not easy for him to open up, so I appreciate it even more when he does- That house right there- he pointed. I looked back at the white magnificence across the road, just as beautiful as the one that belonged to Neil’s family. It had a black door instead of a wooden-colored one. No cars were in front of it, so it looked solemn, distant and different from the rest- It’s the Hasting house.

I looked back at him squeezing his hand- Alton…

-Yeah… Alton- He replied

I didn’t know what to say, I never knew what to say when Neil mentioned his past. But he said all he needed me to do was listen. I gave him a kiss on his cheek, hoping to comfort him. I was glad to see it got a smile out of him- Ready?

He breathed profoundly, turning his head back to the wooden door- Yes, I’m ready- He knocked on the door

----

It creaked as it opened, it was like seconds got transformed into hours. Once it was open a servant smiled. Some kind of butler? Gee, this is something else. However that only added to the moment. He positioned himself by the door, looking into an area in front of him I could only imagine it was the living room. He stuffed his chest like it was the most important thing he was going to say in his life to the ones who waited

-Cornelius Dresner is home

I nodded to Neil, letting him walk in first. He took his hat off as he walked, each step seemed to hold anticipation in them. I walked in right after, but staying away from him. I understood this was a precious moment, so my eyes turned to watch instead.

The silence was so expansive you could hear if cotton balls fell on the ground. When Neil stood there, a second set of steps started. My eyes turned to a very visibly pregnant woman, who could be due anytime soon. She had bright icy blue eyes, her blonde bob fell elegantly on her face. She had the posture of a porcelain doll and her face resembled Neil’s.

She stopped right in front of him looking up at his face, like she was examining every detail, her serious face was beautiful in that light. I assumed that was Lucille, the one who never gave up on him. They now held this very serious starting contest, I almost thought no one was going to say anything

-You got old- Her melodic voice let out and Neil burst into laughter at the same time she did. He hugged her carefully but tightly

-And you grew big, in more ways than one- He joked with her but then turned serious- Lucille, I’m sorry…

-Oh, forget that! You’re here now…

Others walked up to them, I counted them in my head and assumed mother, father, Maude and Warren. I let them have their moment. It was so intimate I stepped back not wanting to hear much. It was like Neil had gone off to a war, survived and now was home once more. In a way, that’s what had happened. Neil had won, or at least started to win, his internal battles and now he had made it back there. I smiled watching the scene. He didn’t reserve any smiles and his family seemed to be everything but mad at him. They relented.

I couldn’t help but think how proud I was of him

A few minutes passed, they started pulling him to the living room to “sit, relax and update them on everything that’s been going on”, then he looked at me and stopped them in their tracks

-Wait- He walked over to me and then looked at them. This was the first time they noticed I was there. I didn’t blame them, Neil had all their attention- This is Mary

The older woman, I’m assuming Neil’s mother walked over and I felt the chills down my spine. She had cold eyes but a warm face. You could watch her and feel that she was judging you and it made you wonder if she considered you worthy of her time. She was the image of classiness, the peak of the upper class. She was one of those wealthy people you see walking by and wonder how they must live. She walked like she had books piled up on top of her head. More charm than Vera Peters, that was for sure, but I felt bad that her aura reminded me of the former mayor’s wife. After all, I wanted to attribute her to someone nice

-Of course- She smiled- Miss Granger, right?

-That’s me! - I smiled- It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am- I was going to say something about how beautiful her house are and introduce myself to the others, but she turned her eyes somewhere else

-Please collect their bags, you can put Neil’s in his room-She said to the servant- And Miss Granger’s bags can take to the spare room downstairs

-Mother- Neil interrupted her- I’d like Mary to stay in the guest room upstairs- He said in an imposing a tone. If there was a guest room upstairs, I got a weird feeling about her asking for me to sleep downstairs in what I could safely assume was an underground floor.

-Fine, yes. Take hers to one of the guest rooms- She said and the servant started moving according to orders

When I turned around, Lucille was walking up to me and Neil. She in turn had kinder eyes, and I could see them a little wet. The pregnancy probably added to the emotion of her beloved brother coming home

-Miss Granger, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My brother spoke highly of you in his letter- I didn’t know whether to pay attention to her eyes or the diamonds she wore

-He must have flattered me too much- I said shyly. She wasn’t much older than me, but she spoke clearly and no slangs were in sight

-I only speak the truth- He said behind me

-I’m sure- she replied- I understand it’s you I must thank for having him write me

-I may have pushed him a little bit- I squeezed his hand- But he made the decision on his own

Neil introduced me to rest of his family. His father seemed a tad quiet just like him, his other younger siblings greeted me well, and he reintroduced me to his mother who was next to talk again

-It’s so nice of you to wear something so simple to come see us. I did hope you felt at home- She mentioned I could feel my face getting hot- Why don’t we all sit down, there’s much to talk about!

I was more nervous now than when I first walked, but I didn’t want to let on everything was getting to me.

The living room was mainly white, so white it was like staring at snow in the sun. The couches were the most comfortable seat I had ever felt. In this place where comfort was displayed all around, I felt all the eyes and social pressure of high society that made me feel like it was the most uncomfortable place in the world. What calmed me was Neil sitting next to me and his hand on my waist.

-How’s life in Chicago?- Lucille asked- I tried asking Drummond when you wouldn’t reply but he always told me you weren’t working for him anymore

-Yes, I only worked with him for a few years- He continued, and I was sure he was going to give them the clean version of the story- Turns out we didn’t get along so well. I moved to this neighborhood where I met this man called Charles Granger. He in very involved with the city’s anti-saloon league and involved in the politics and he takes care of the neighborhood he lives in, it turns out they were in need of a doctor. So he offered me a job and I accepted, worked with him ever since. He helped me get settled, I do owe him a lot

-Well, we’ll be sure to send Mr. Granger our regards for taking care of you- His mom gave a forced smile. I’m sure she had questions but it was noticeable she was trying to be on Neil’s good side, afraid he might escape again

-So my life was settled there. A few years later he announced to me and his associates that his niece was coming from Ohio to live with him. She helps him out at work and that’s how we met, through Charlie

-And now you’re seeing each other- His mother continued

He smiled softly- MC and I are engaged, mother. I mentioned in the letters

-Oh yes, Lucille told us the news- Her tone seemed like… Disappointment? No, I’m just reading too much into it

I had to do something to break the ice- We were planning for it to happen in late April, early May, wait until the cold passes by

-Yes, it’s smart to wait a while-She smiled at me- A lot can happen in those months, things might end up different

I held my breath, I couldn’t pretend to be dumb to myself. She was definitely unhappy with Neil’s choice. For the first time I felt a sting in my chest. It wasn’t embarrassment or anxiety. It was… Insecurity. I usually never lacked confidence and I was sure that I could take everything and anyone. However, being on the receiving side of the looks from Neil’s mother made me feel like a pin in a haystack. Tiny and lost.

-We weren’t planning on waiting too long- Neil said. Even he acted different around his family, but his tone was firmer. I knew it was him sticking up for me in the ritziest way there was. So I appreciated in silence.

-I hope you don’t mind that we organized a ball for your return- She said excited, changing the subject- We invited the Hastings, the neighbors, just close people to spend the night with us

-Oh mother, you know I always loved the balls you gave- He said in a sarcastic tone but she ignored it, Lucille did giggle though

-Get up and get ready-She said- Do you need me to send the valet upstairs?

-No! No... I can manage myself- He said walking towards the stairs and taking me with him

She then spoke to me before we left- Oh dear, you’ll want to wear something a little bit more elegant for tonight

Once we were in the second floor I couldn’t help but look around. There was a piano room and then a corridor of doors, I assumed they were bedrooms. It seemed kind of oddly placed, surely nobody would like to sleep while the piano is being played right outside their doors. However, everything inside was so white the black piano was a welcoming contrast.

-So… I’m guessing balls are a normal thing in the upper class

-It’s traditional, not my thing if you ask me- He lowered his voice to say the last part

-I’d imagine not

I didn’t have much time to admire the guest room, even though I did notice that its grandiosity made it hard to imagine that it was a room that didn’t belong to anyone. I sat on the bed stressed, wondering how I was going to find something in my bag that would fit the expectations of Momma Dresner. The fanciest dress I could find didn’t impress her, and now I had to step up my game for an official “welcome home Neil” ball

In the middle of my mind’s perturbations, a knock on the door got my attention. When I opened the door, Lucille was standing there smiling

-Mrs. Branford!- I started

-Lucille is fine, if I can call you Mary

-MC- I stepped out of the way to let her in- What can I do for you?

-My mother, she is… Traditional- She sat on the loveseat by the window- I’m not going to lie. People like her, they are not easily impressed by… People like you

-People like me, you mean middle-class

She nodded- Yes, it’s in her ways. The Dresners, they come from very old money. Me, Neil and our siblings, we’re more used to the ways things are nowadays. But our mother never really spent much time with people who didn’t have as much money as she did. So she always looks down on them- She looked back at me- And she always expected Neil to marry an indoor, wealthy girl if you know what I mean

I must’ve made a face, because the look of sympathy rested on her eyes- She doesn’t think I’m worthy of Neil

-Yes, MC, but you must understand it’s old thinking. She thinks that solely based on money. Besides, it’s a little tougher on Neil because he is the oldest of us. That makes him have to marry the perfect woman in her eyes.

I looked at her- The oldest… So…

-Neil is the heir of our estate. Of our parents fortune.

My eyes went wide. It must’ve been obvious, but I just realized that- I never thought of it that way.

-Listen, MC. When Neil left Boston, after Alton passed away… He was not just unhappy. He was lost, his eyes were haunted. He was cold and it seemed like all life from him was just gone. He had this hard edge, and he estranged himself from all of us- She looked at nothing, but I could see pain in her eyes- When he came back from France I convinced myself I would never see the Neil I use to know before the war again, I knew some of his troubles. Then a few years after he left I started to convince myself I’d never see him again- She turned her eyes to me- And then a few months after knowing you he writes back, and then he comes home. On top of it, although there’s still a hard edge on him, I can see it in his eyes that you make him happy. I can see the old Neil in him. That’s why I know you’re more than worthy to be with my brother, you brought him back from the darkness he lived in

Wow. I was so caught up in what she said. It was nice knowing she was on my side- Lucille, I didn’t really do much… I

-No humbleness. Just take some credit for it. I can see you care for him very much

I nodded exaggeratedly- I love Neil.

-And you can see it in his eyes he loves you-She got up this time, going to a dresser in the room- My brother will be happy with you, and I’m so excited to have you as my new sister. However, convincing my parents require a different approach- She pulled out a dress. A beautiful and obviously expensive dress

It was a salmon color, a soft V-neck that was more of an U and graceful short sleeves. While the looseness of the dress was there, it’d flatter whoever’s waist it was on with a slight inward curve, going down in a soft A-line. The dress ended right below the knees. The pattern on it was two colors. One the color of the dress, only visible if you really paid attention to it, the other was white and in the shape of leaves, like a garden going around and forming a heart around the chest area, small flower-like drawings of the same color elegantly finished the dress.

-Oh Lucille, it’s beautiful, but I couldn’t-

-Yes, you can. It doesn’t fit me anymore and it’d help you impress everybody, plus I’m sure Neil would love to see you in it. C’mon, put it on

I hesitantly did so, and once I saw myself in the mirror with it, it made it a lot easier to accept it. I loved it- Thank you, Lucille

-We’re not done. It’s not just the dress- She said pulling some accessories out. First she fixed my curls, like she watched people doing hers enough times to know how. Then she placed a white headband on my head. It had a details on the side, I didn’t dare ask if they were diamonds or something else. A pearl necklace was put around my neck, I asked myself if they were real pearls. Lastly she brought in beautiful heels. They were white as well, clasped in the middle of my feet, and closed in a salmon bow.

When I finished putting them on I looked myself in the mirror again. Oh boy, Momma would pass out if she saw me like this. Poppa would finally consider me his pride. I was all dolled-up. That sensation that I was an imposter grew in me, but then I was only human. I felt confident again- What do you think? - I asked her

-I think you’re ready to face them. Now, I have to go get dressed myself

-For sure, yes- I smiled to her- Thank you Lucille, really

-You brought my brother home back to us… It’s the least I could’ve done- She hugged me tight- Remind me to properly introduce you to Michael at the ball

I agreed laughing lowly and feeling a lot better

A little while after I heard another knock on my door, when I opened it, I was more than happy to see it was Neil. He seemed surprised at my get-up at first, then he smiled

-I see you’ve had some help

-Well, your sister came in and-

-You look beautiful- he offered me his hand and I took it. I was going to say something smart, but the look in his eyes was so sincere I didn’t want to ruin the moment

-Thanks- I said instead- Did everyone already leave?

-Well, lucky for me, I’m the reason of this party- He said it in a sarcastic tone- So I get to come in late and be the center of attention, I’m hoping their curiosity about you takes some of it away from me.

-Neil Dresner is back home, and he brought a low-class girl with him and he’s saying he’s gonna marry her?-I raised my voice to sound like upper-crust gossip- My oh my, Doctor Dresner, quite a scandal

He gave me that warm smile that went all the way up to his eyes. The one that always makes me feel the jitters in a good way

However I wasn’t done- They’ll probably think you’ve gone crazy and send you to a psych ward or think you’ve knocked me up and now you’re stuck with me- I pretended to hold a fan imitating the rich older women- Disgraceful, truly disgraceful

This time he let out a laugh, a harsh laugh, but a long one that sounded like melody to me. For a second I thought he wouldn’t stop laughing, and then I started up laughing too. We walked all the way to the car like that

-People will think I’ve gone soft if I spend too much time with you- He said

-You agreed to spend the rest of your life with me. You’ll be the biggest softie the United States has ever seen

He let out a harsh chuckle this time, as if he told me he wouldn’t ever let that happen. Then the servant from before opened the back door of a fancy car, it had a long hood and it was half black and half white, a wheel sat on its side. I could also see a chauffeur in the front

-Wow, you’re getting the whole ritzy treatment today- I said getting into the car and we were on our way

-You get used to this kind of stuff- He mentioned and then turned to me- You will…- Before I could ask what he meant, he kept going- You know, during these balls we were required to attend, me and Alton would usually spend the entire time together. He didn’t use to be a fan of it either. Having him there… It always made it feel better, it always made it fun somehow- Then he turned to look at me- Having you there, it’s going to make it feel better

I smiled, filled with emotion, but I had to say something- You’re definitely turning soft on me

He rolled his eyes-I should’ve known better than being nice with you, Granger

Our verbal sparring continued until we stopped in front of a big house, the doors were open to reveal a ball room at the bottom of the stairs. I’ve done this before. They’ll announce us and we’ll go down and I’ll act like I’m entitled to the world

So we did just that. The servant opened the car door and Neil took my hand to help me out of the car. Then, I took his arm and we walked in to the top of the stars. People there looked at Neil like he was a rare diamond, like the king of England just walked in. I could feel his tenseness with the looks, but the preparedness for it in his eyes, he whispered to the announcer and then held my arm tighter

-Mr. Cornelius Dresner of Boston and his fiancée Miss Granger

-C’mon- I said lowly and he followed, so we both went down the stairs.

At the bottom of it his family came over again, and soon I could see people looking and gossiping. It was a good hour of walking around and talking to his family and everyone Neil once used to know and introducing me. I felt like I was in one of those old periods of time when the upper crust used to announce engagements.

After a while I was talking to Lucille while Neil talked to some of the other men. Then she looked behind me and got closer to whisper something- Look, Momma just took Neil to talk to Lillie and left them alone

I looked around feeling my heart jump, at first I felt was surprised. I remember who Lillie was, Lucille’s best friend and… Neil’s ex-fiancée. I remember feeling pity for her because Neil left her, but the pangs of jealousy struck me once I saw her.

She was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, for the second time that day I felt insecurity, but this made me feel much tinier. Because I knew Neil’s mother approved of her, because she was part of the high society and she grew up in it. Her pale skin, her green eyes, her dark smooth hair. She was tall and charming, she was the figure of elegancy. I also knew Neil found her attractive, that he was romantically involved with her once. If he used to love her, how can I be sure all those feelings are gone? No… It’s just the atmosphere and everything, it’s just all throwing me off.

I must’ve been so shaken up I felt paralyzed. Lucille shook me- Hey… Hey! They walked outside. We can spy on them from over in that room- She said pulling me along, I wasn’t even paying attention until I was already there. It was a dark room, looked like an office? Lucille brought us to a window, the drapes were almost closed so you couldn’t see us, but we could spy on them

-I have missed you, Neil- She looked up to him, and her eyes were shining. I knew what that look was… She was still in love with him- I haven’t courted anyone else- She showed him her hand- I’m still wearing the ring you picked out for me.

-I didn’t really pick it out, Lillie it was…

-Yeah, your grandmother’s. You told me remember? You got it when you were fourteen. It was to keep it to the woman you loved the most, to the woman you wished to spend the rest of your life with, whom you’ll always love and that woman shall always love you- She held his hands this time and I felt my stomach sink- You told me that you would always love me if I always loved you back-She got closer to him, this time placing her hand on his face- Here I am, still loving you. Can you say everything was washed away?

He took a few steps back, his confusion could be seen on his face. I wondered what he had to be confused about- Nothing is ever just washed away, Lillie. You of all people should know that.

My heart hurt, what did he mean by that, did he mean his feelings for her were still there?

She smiled softly-Neil… You never gave me closure. You never ended our engagement. One day you were just gone. People kept telling me that you were gone for good-She looked away at the stars, it was a well moonlit light. It was perfectly romantic, but that didn’t fit me one bit in that moment. I hated the romanticism of the stars and the shine that it gave on her face. I hated that it made her look more beautiful- But me and Lucille we knew you’d come back to us. That you’d come back to me. And you were so troubled when you left…

-Lillie…-He looked at the stars now too- I’m sorry for what I’ve done in the past. There’s a lot of stuff I’ve done that I can’t fix and I have to live with it. But I got a second chance to make things better. I’m not the same man who proposed to you back then

-Then how is it I look in your eyes and I see him? I see my Neil

I don’t know if I was feeling anger, sadness or disbelief. It could’ve been all of those together. Lillie knows Neil is engaged to me, she must know, we were announced together. You’d think she’d have some respect

-You see what you want to see, Lillie. You think you love me but you don’t

-I went after you! I went to Chicago-He looked at her with interest, she was caught up in her emotions, crying now- Mr. Drummond told me how you were troubled, lost in… Morphine, was it? I looked for you all around the city, and I couldn’t find you. I’m fighting for you Neil. I can’t give up on us

He breathed funny- Lillie-

Before he could say anything else she hugged him, and he hugged her back for my surprise. When was it that Neil hugged any girl like that?

-Seemed you two form quite the spies- A voice behind us said- Me and Lillie jumped. It was Neil’s mother, and she seemed satisfied from what she saw outside, seeing as she was the facilitator in the situation- You see, Miss Granger. Neil belongs back here, in Boston. And you belong is whatever infested middle-class house you came from with your people. You will never be worthy of my son, and of course it only took the right girl to pull him back into his senses.

-Mother…!- Lucille started

-I’ve had enough of it, Lucille! The little gal needs to know her place. Did you think you could ever make your way into OUR family?

I didn’t say anything. This was so far away from my reality at the Ice Box, my family or everything that I’d ever done before. I couldn’t… I can’t handle this.

-I have to go- It was the only thing I could say before flying out of there. I got back in the car asking for the driver to take me back to the town house, once I was in I couldn’t stop my racing thoughts until I was in the guest room, packing my bags.

But then I stopped. Neil… I can’t just leave him like this. I was so mad at him, I was so mad at all of this, I… I want to go back to Chicago. I looked in the mirror again, all dressed up in fancy things, this isn’t who I am. I surprised myself by ripping it all out of me, putting on my favorite green dress and hat, the ones I wore all the time. Once I was back in clothes that made me recognize myself I swore I’d never again try to be somebody I wasn’t. C’mon MC, you always knew you didn’t have to prove anything to anybody.

But I let my stupid wandering thoughts continue. Neil knelt down in front of Lillie once and asked her to marry him. He asked her to marry him, not me. She had a ring on her finger, not me.

I don’t know how much time had passed by when I heard people in the house.

-MC!- I heard Neil’s voice from downstairs- MC!- He didn’t knock on my door, just walked in- Lucille, she told me you listened to me and Lillie talk

-Yeah, I heard it, alright

-I…-He was going to say something when he saw the bag I started to pack, then he looked at me, visibly mad- You were leaving? Without me?

-No! Not without you. I was gonna wait for you- I walked until him- Let’s go back to Chicago

-We’ve only been here a day

-I can’t be here anymore, Neil. Please, let’s leave

-I haven’t been back in years. You convince me to write to my sister, convince me to come over here, we’re here less than 24 hours and you want me to leave? I just got the courage to be here

-Neil, today has been the most stressful day of my life! I have been dressing up like a paper doll, I have been trying to impress your mother and all I’ve been hearing is how much I’m not worthy, how I won’t fit in, how I’m way in over my head! I have been feeling nothing but insecure, down and I’ve been trying to do everything for you, but I can’t- I was rambling on and tears had begun falling from my eyes, but I didn’t even care- I’ve been keeping a stone face all day trying to make you happy because I know this is huge, but it’s tiring! It’s tiring feeling so out of place, and then hearing your mother say all those things, and then I walked out there to the ball and you go in a secluded area with your beautiful ex-fiancée to exchange words of love under the moonlight?!

-I didn’t say any words of love!- He raised his voice, more than I’ve ever heard him raise it before- I was feeling bad for Lillie, I left her and never came back after promising her a married life! I gave her time because I was trying to fix what I did wrong in the past, with everyone!

I didn’t know what to say or think- Neil, let’s just please, go!

-Yes, I think it’s time you went back to Chicago, if you’re going to behave like this the whole trip you should go!

I looked back at him wide-eyed- You don’t mean…!

-I thought I saw a woman, MC. But how could I, you’re nineteen! I’m thirty-two. You’re the same kid I saw the first night you came to Chicago.

I looked right at him as I wiped my tears off my face, then I grabbed my bag I had packed. Neil called Lillie a ghost back in Chicago, but he was wrong. Lillie wasn’t a ghost, nothing back in Boston or his past life had anything to go with ghosts, ghosts terrify you, but he seemed just fine where he was. Maybe this is where Neil belongs after all. But it’s sure not where I belong.

That night for me was the true ghostly aura. A memory that’d haunt me forever. I left Boston, alone, under the beautiful moonlight that would have enchanted me otherwise. I left with only one certainty: I’ll be dead before somebody ever mentions the name Neil Dresner to me ever again!

1933

-Alright, ready?- I asked and the kids all agreed. Neil wasn’t one to make a big deal out of his birthday, but after a few ones together he knew there was no point in fighting against it. I’d always want it to make it a special day, so we settled on a cake and some candles. Just me, him and the kids- One, two, three!

The kids along with me started our little choir, for that man that was so special to all of us- Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear daddy! Happy birthday to you!

-Do we really need to do this every year?-He asked, cynically, but with a little smile on his face

-Alright, mister doom and gloom! We have this discussion every year!- I kissed him in the cheek

We all had our piece of cake. After putting the kids to bed, I walked outside, the moon was shining in the sky and it was a cold January night. Neil soon joined me- One more year close to death- He said raising his glass, then proceeding to drink the bourbon inside it

-You always know how to lighten up the mood-I pulled him in for a hug and along with it a long kiss

-You’re something else, MC, you know that?

-I’ve been told-I smiled up to him, mischievously

-You can never have any idea of how much I love you- He played with my hair, moving it out of my face

-I have some

He chuckled very softly, almost inaudibly- I just ask one thing of you, MC Granger… Never change who you are

----

Little curiosities: DRAAAAAMA. I thought they deserved a little fight and angst. Well, next chapter we’ll be back in Chicago and it’s time for the Ice Box to shine again! Woo Woo, Prohibition stuuuff!

Thanks so much for reading this chapter, guys! Hope you enjoyed it!

Chapter 4 is already on its way!

-Candy, My Dear Diary (5/24/2020)

[smokeybrand]

The Rising Tide Raises All Ships

I don't understand people who are so ardently against social systems. Like, it's pulling eye-teeth just to have what little we do. I can't tell you how many f*cking time some MAGA cultist attacks food stamps or welfare like it's the worst thing ever but it's like, the ones who abuse it like you say, look like you. They don't look like me. There's always bad actors in any system, but if the majority carries on the way they should, then that system should function regardless. We know it can because it's being executed in real time, all over the world. There's a reason why the happiest places on earth, have the most expansive social welfare systems. Its fine to drive capitalism, no one's telling you not to work hard, but if we expanded those processes, everyone benefits. If everyone contributes a little more to the pool, all of our boats rise with the tide. I mean, seriously, if 2020 has taught us anything, it's that the systems we have in pace right now, don't work. They are easily exploited, easily manipulated, and completely counter intuitive to living life. There is a literal f*cking plague going on and our president is forcing people back to work and kids back to class because the economy. If that don't scream broke and needs fixing, I don't what does.

Free Healthcare means no worries going to the doctor. Paper cut, baby delivery, broken bone, or f*cking cancer, there'd be no stressing over how to pay those ridiculous bills. They wouldn't be ridiculous. I think in Canada an ambulance ride is, like, $230 dollars, average, depending on circumstances. In some places, it's as low as $45 and others, as high as $385. The average here in the States is closer to $1200 f*cking dollars. For just the ambulance. That's not even beginning to address the hospital visit and hope you don't an extended stay. These mother*ckers gave me a bill for close to $50,000 for my two week stay the first time I almost died. Bro, there's no way I am ever going to pay that. The f*ck is you saying? I read an account of someone going to the emergency room in the Philippines and it cost her $15 dollars. To see the doctor. It would have been free but she's not a citizen. More than anything, universal healthcare would force Big Pharma to price their medications appropriately. There would have affordable prescriptions for everyone. When I left my job, I lot my insurance. When I checked prices on my meds, just a single prescription was $400 f*cking dollars for one month's worth. In Canada, that prescription would have been $15. The ill thing? The $400 dollar one was the cheapest I could find stateside. I take five medications for my heart. Uninsured, I'd be dropping close to $3800 a month, on sh*t I need to live. Who the f*ck has a loose $3800 when they have to pay that much in rent every month? Insulin is, like, $300 for 10 days worth here. In Canada, it's f*cking $30. Sh*t's even cheaper in Egypt. Small businesses wouldn't have to worry about employee healthcare or anything like that. If you have more than two employees, the cost you save in insurance coverage is more than enough to offset that tax increase. You'd be able to actually pay a more livable wage, while pocketing more profit at the same time. How is any of this bad? How can you spin this sh*t as a negative?

Free education means a more literate populace. We wouldn't have near as many Anti-Vaxxers and Flat Earthers. Motherf*ckers would understand the science of social distancing and mask wearing during a goddamn pandemic. I wouldn't be so f*cking mad having to dumb myself down just to interact with society. If we follow the Nordic system, you get your four years worth of education, graduate with a proper degree, and get placed into a position immediately out of college to tenure in your focus for the next four years. It's not an internship but a real job. You not only get a degree, but you immediately start earning a living in that field, while accumulating experience. Once you complete your four year employment obligation, you can continue your employment, start the process  over with a new major in mind, or you're free to travel abroad with four years experience and a BA in your pocket. Not only would the populace be more literate, more people would be employed thus stimulating the economy. Those that enter into science and engineering, would have to innovate in their fields for four years, minimum, so you'd have hungry minds creating the future, just like back in the day when “America was great” or whatever. More education, means more jobs, means a stronger economy, means less crime. Again, how is this a bad thing? You wouldn't even have to do away with private college or studying whatever you want. If there wasn't a free program to take advantage of, just pay for your classes. I'm sure there'd still be grants and scholarship and financial aid available for aspiring painters or wannabe film makers, or any number of vanity degrees. F*ck it, man, if you want to go to Harvard just for the clout, you can still totally do that. F*ck, dude, you can do it after getting your free degree even. Graduate school, bro. Motherf*cker can be making six figures paying that stupid, clout chasing, tuition out of pocket because you can afford it with the job you got with that free degree. That's the beauty of the Nordic system; Everyone gets what they want.

That's just the surface of these benefits. I'm not even going to go into what universal income, maternity leave, vacation time, strong unions, and subsidized child care. I'm not even going to touch on how prisons over there are built to rehabilitate, not to humiliate and effectively enslave. For Profit prisons are the modern plantations. Look that sh*t up. I'm not even going to go into detail about the benefits collective legalization for all drugs and how crime plummeted because of it, or how they treat addiction like a mental illness and not a criminal offense, or the way they house their homeless and treat them humanely, while transitioning them into society with counseling, job placement, and social work. All of this, for, maybe, an extra hundred or two a year. That's, what? An extra $30 a month out of your check? Less than $10 a f*cking week? That one trip to Starbucks. That's two Quarter-Pounders. That's nothing. How does that math not work? How do these universal benefits, not jive with everyone? How does this sh*t not make sense to people, when you can see it working the world over? The illest thing in this whole situations is the fact that we, as the US, have absolutely more than enough to implement this system, this type of social democracy which benefits everyone, if we just rearranged our budget. Admittedly, we couldn't just implement the healthcare out the box. I mean, we could, but that would entail getting motherf*ckers who make trillions, like Amazon, Facebook, and Tesla as well as Zuckerberg, Musk, and Bezos, to pay their fair share without circumventing said responsibilities Corporate Welfare is crippling the working American and people are too dumb to even pay attention to it, distracted by buzzwords like “communism” and “immigrant.” So we do the free education thing first. That's only $4 billion a year. I checked. That's pittance compared to the defense budget.

Motherf*ckers wouldn't even need to “tax the rich” or “hold them accountable” if we just cut the defense budget. We can keep pretending that trickle down works and that Wall Street works for us and not corporate gluttons and that Reaganomics works, and whatever else the conservatives want us all to believe. Whatever, right? The US spends $650 billion on defense. That is, quite literally, $400 billion more than the next country, China. The rest of the world, minus the US and China, spends a collective $831 billion. That's an average of less than $50 billion a year, worldwide. F*ck, if you add China back into that, it's still less than $65 billion a year. Did i mention that these are yearly budgets? And these are old numbers. My guy, we can afford to drop a few billion of that defense budget. We can probably skim $50 billion and enrich a lot of people's lives but we don't even need that much. Drop $4 billion off of that gratuitous $650 tril, and you can fund free education for everyone. Following the Nordic system, that means more jobs. That means more taxes. That means a better economy and more revenue to implement the universal health care, which would further lessen the burden of employers and employees, putting even more money back into everyone's pockets, which would grow the economy even more. Happy and secure people, spend more money. The only people this system hurts, are those hurting us with the current system. Are they literally too dumb and/or selfish to let go of a little extra and uplift all of us? How do you argue that math? No one loses but the people forcing you to lose right now, in real time. F*ck, man, 2020 has exposed this entire system and there are still people who will die for a country that won't even give you enough money to be safe during a whole ass plague and I don't understand that at all.

[collisionary]

The Bouquet || Jey Uso x Reader

for @harleymoxley

Entry 2 of engagement series. 

Ever since dinner I hadn’t been able to find Jey. 

We were at a wedding of a fellow wrestler’s, one of my best friends, Carmella. Naomi and I were in the bridal party, so I couldn’t be with Jey for the ceremony. Afterward, everyone sat down for dinner and once the party started, he disappeared.

I figured he had gone off to socialize with his friends but he’d been gone a long time and I hadn’t seen him at all despite the large, open venue. I started to get worried but Naomi assured me that him and Jimmy were off somewhere trying to get everyone laughing. I agreed and continued with the party.

After a few more minutes of dancing the DJ shut off the music and announced it was time to catch the bouquet. All the girls went crazy. It amazed me that this was usually the most exciting part of a wedding for girls.

Every girl clumped together in what was almost a mosh pit. Pushing and ramming, everyone was pretty drunk. Carmella stood with her back to us all, and the whole crowd chanted with her.

“1! 2! 3!” And the bouquet went flying. I barely comprehended what was happening when the flowers landed in my hands with surprising ease. My cheeks turned red immediately. I didn’t want to be the center of attention right now. Everyone cheered and I realized that everyone had stepped away from me, leaving me alone in a circle to catch the bouquet alone. I laughed, assuming Naomi and Carmella were just screwing with me. They’ve been talking about Jey and I getting married for as long as I can remember.

All of us moved off the dance floor and the men took our place. I was lost in conversation with another girl when Naomi nudged me, demanding me to pay attention. The garter was already in the air and my eyes followed it all the way into the man’s hand. My man’s hand.

“No way,” I laughed with Naomi. Jey was shy, he wasn’t one to go up for these kinds of things, nevermind actually try to catch it.

I thanked the stars for letting Jey be the one to catch it. If I had to have a garter put on by a total stranger, I would’ve died. Then he would’ve, because Jey would be pissed.

I loosened up a bit and actually started to have fun once I realized it was Jey I had been paired with. I took my seat in the chair in the middle of the floor. Jey kneeled in front of me.

“Okay, put that thing on the lucky lady!” The DJ shouted. Everyone cheered and laughed. Jey slipped the small piece of lace over my shoe and up my leg. He slowly dragged his hands over me until the garter was sat on my upper thigh. My heart sped up. I couldn’t believe he did that in front of all these people.

I laughed and threw my hand over my mouth. He smiled up at me and my heart melted. I was about to stand up to vacate the dance floor but the DJ wasn’t done talking.

“Stay there, stay there,” he told me before looking around the crowd, “We have one more game for this pair to play. I just need this young lady to close her eyes for just a second.”

I looked around nervously before closing my eyes. I was getting nervous about what I might have to do in front of this big crowd. Halfway into my worries the DJ spoke once more.

“And... open.”

I opened my eyes and found Jey in the same position I left him in. On his knee in front of me. I was officially confused. Jey spoke before I had the chance.

“You know how when you catch the bouquet they say you’re the next to get married?” He asked me. I nodded slowly. Just then he reached into his pocket, bringing out a box. He opened it to reveal the prettiest ring I’d ever laid eyes on. “I want us to be next. Will you marry me?”

ALSO: I went to a wedding of my cousin’s and I always thought if you caught the bouquet you were just supposed to be married next. TURNS OUT, a guy catches the garter and has to put it on you in front of a ton of people. So if you don’t want a strange man sliding his hands up your thighs while everyone watches and laughs, don’t catch the bouquet. I learned the hard way. It was super uncomfortable being in front of 300 people with a stranger having his hands on my thigh. I’m just saying this because I know other girls don’t know about this part of the deal and we don’t need any girls stuck in a position like that!

[scrollofthoth]

Excerpt from Fear and Loathing in Innsmouth

As we entered the groove of our perspective audio enlightenment, my attorney must have taken his eyes off the road for a second. Neither of us saw a thing until we heard the thump and saw the guy go flying through the air, landing in the mud. The Whale zig-zagged to a screeching halt, nearly tipping over the trailer. As the smoke cleared, my partner looked at me and said, “As your attorney I recommend we find out if he’s dead.”

Slowly and shakily we disembarked from the Whale and sauntered down the highway as if looking for a lost hat. I didn’t know what we hit. I was still hoping to find a dead dear in the bushes. We may be drug fiends, criminals, and shiftless layabouts, but we would never intentionally leave a stranger on the side of the road with his brains oozing out a crack in his head.

I was just beginning to think we had imagined the whole thing when he sat up in a mud puddle as big as a swimming pool. Startled, we jumped back three-feet and made to make a dash for the car before we simultaneously realized that we were still morally obligated to see if he was injured.

The three of us froze, gunfighters waiting for someone to reach for a shooter. Then his head turned freakishly slow to face us. I thought for sure it would just keep spinning, like one of those giant rotating buckets they put on a pole outside a Kentucky Fried Chicken stand. But it stopped when it faced our direction, and his huge, bulbus eyes gave three long blinks. He was plastered in mud, but I could still tell that under that caked on filth, his face had a weird pinched-quality to it, as if God had slapped the two halves of his face together but got the angle wrong.

My attorney and I jumped again when he spoke. “Which way you guys headed?”

That let the air out of the situation, and we inched closer. “Are you alright, buddy?” My attorney asked.

“I think so. You guys hit the duffel I had on my shoulder as you passed.” He cast around with his bulbous fish eyes. “You see my bag?”

The two of us cast about in a half-assed way. Neither one of us were going to wade into that filth and pull the guy or his bag out of it. Which didn’t matter, because in a moment he called out, “There it is!” And he handily dislodged himself from the slime and trudged through the muck some thirty yards to where his duffle bag had landed. He displayed an impressive grace for someone who had just been flung across the air by two-tons of Detroit steel travelling at ninety miles per hour and was now hip-deep in mud, but I figured he must be used to trolling through this swamp looking for whatever shit-eating crustacean he would have for Sunday dinner.

When he came back to the road, my attorney said, “Hop in. We’ll give you a lift.”

No use arguing, it was the least we could do. And the car belonged to my uncle anyway. We procured it shortly after receiving our assignment – hoping the fence that surrounded my uncle’s home on Beacon Hill, ripping open the garage with a crowbar, and jamming a screwdriver into the ignition. It only took a minute to hook up his fishing boat to the back end. And I did leave a note. “Using the car for the weekend. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it. Okay. Tom.” I was between cars at the moment, and my uncle knew that. No way I was going to haul my 300-pound Hawaiian attorney all the way up the coast on the back of my motorcycle. He’d understand. He never has time for fishing anyway.

That’s why we left the car running with the radio and the tape deck still blasting at full volume as he slid across the backseat, leaving what looked like a Jackson Pollack made of excrement painted on the cream-colored leather. Knowing we needed to make up for lost time, my attorney stomped on the accelerator, and the White Whale screeched its tires for a full thirty-seconds before launching off down the road, yanking the boat trailer behind it. We could both feel immediately that our passenger had become nervous due to the noise and our total disregard for traffic safety. I questioned the wisdom of picking up strangers with a trunk full of narcotics that could send both of use to prison for thirty years. Not that all the drugs were in the trunk. My attorney had rooted around back there before we took off, and I was seized with terror as he fished the little vinyl change purse full of cocaine out of his pocket, unzipped it with his teeth, and jammed his nose right in there like a pig rooting around in the slop. When he finally came up for air, little very expensive clouds of white dust were whipped away by the howling wind.

My attorney spun all around, looking our passenger straight in the face and ignoring the road in front of him. His nose and beard still coated in white powder he said, “We’re your friends. We’re not like those other guys.”

Fuck Christ! That Polynesian son of a bitch had gone off the deep end. If this guy wasn’t going to report us as dope fiends and smugglers before, he certainly intended to now. I slapped my attorney to bring his attention back to the road and said, “That’s enough of that now. We’ll have no more of that talk!” Although I remained fairly certain he heard none of it over the noise in the car. Still, it showed him a glimpse of what would be to him our odd behavior. Once he got a whiff, how long would it be before he knew? How long were we able to maintain? Give some semblance of being decent, law abiding, fellas on a New England vacation? We couldn’t just Chappaquiddick the unlucky fool. Only rich people get away with that bullshit. They would hunt us down like dogs.

[badmuslim-blog1]

Dun-Dun-Dunnn

December 4

I saw the right hook coming at me out of nowhere. I was shocked, I just didn’t expect it. What followed was a series of follow up punches and hits. I’ve forgotten what kind. I guess I just couldn’t believe he felt he had a right to strike me, albeit so violently. When he got tired, due to his age, he picked up a stick, the broomstick that was being used earlier. That stick was swung and struck my body, my arms, my head, my back. It pressed into my flesh, leaving dents but no pain. My body only registered the sting of the first contact. I did not feel pain but a hefty bellowing scream was released. I screamed in agonizing frustration. I screamed because my 21-year-old body was being physically pushed back and down by an assault. I was meant to cower. I was meant to cry, to yield, back down. Instead, I grit my teeth, clenched my jaw and got louder. Staring right at my mother who had called for this. She had made the call for me to get physically disciplined the way daughters are meant to get from their fathers. I looked at my mother who stood a couple of feet away, calling in feeble protest for him to stop, saying I’ve had enough I suppose. She had called him right after I told her that I was going to take a taxi and go to Baghdad. I told her I was going to the Embassy to get a temporary travel document, one that I was assured by consular officials via email that I could get within 48 hours of a meeting.  She asked me questions about my intentions if I actually was able to pull that off and get the document, once I returned, would I go to Mexico? Would I still pursue the plan to go on exchange there? What she didn’t do was show any interest in looking into this promised document that would allow us to leave this country without passports. She didn’t say “Okay Huda, wow that’s great that you have that meeting, of course, you can’t go without us so let's go together.” I was planning on insisting against that if it happened but it never came. She had no interest. She had re-tied the knot with this fucking animal. She had recommitted to being his wife again, his responsibility. His property. And for what? Apparently, for our future.

I looked at her and told her that the difference between her and I, was that I would never sell my freedom for money. Of course, someone in that position would never admit to themselves that was the case.

I was outside, standing in the porch walking towards the door in one moment, the next, I was physically holding myself together while I told my mother over an over, “you think you can hit me into submission?” Without knowing it I had been beaten back into the house. I stood in the room feet apart, angered, enraged, and bewildered. I never took my eyes off my mother. She stood there telling me this was all my doing. I did this, I caused this. He stood in the doorway, making a show of being held back by the other men of the house. He yelled, “Go get the gun”, the way you would demand to no one, in particular, to go get the phone so you could call the cops, or go get the lighter so you can burn whoever’s being naughty. He was trying to scare me into submission, the way you would scare a misbehaving child who might be throwing a tantrum. I looked straight at him and yelled: “Get the gun and kill me now!” I stood there looking into his eyes daring him to follow out his threat. He exited.

Thinking about it now, I’m reminded of something a certain someone said long ago. “Give me liberty or give me death”. Which is exactly the way I was feeling? Like I was carrying a pedestal on my back. One that housed my burning need to feel free again. To feel in control and be let go. Cut free from the braided knots that held me firmly against my mothers bosom. Or to die trying to free myself. For the first time since arriving in this country, I realized that I was exactly the kind of girl that would get killed in an honor killing and my mother had officially put herself in the category that might allow such a thing to happen to her daughter. Or at least she wouldn’t realize it until it was too late. I also realized that it was possible that I would never leave this country and sooner rather than later… I might die. It was a strange feeling that launched something into my throat. I briefly wondered what the authorities, both the government and the tribal authorities would do or not do in the case of a girl murdered by her own ‘walid’. ‘Father’. I can’t imagine such a thing is legally overlooked, surely it is against the official law of this land. But with the obvious corruption within the government and the way the tribes clearly outrank police officers on these streets, I could see it. I could see my body being dropped in the river. My life being nothing but a friend who went on vacation and never came back. A niece and granddaughter who went to live abroad and just lost touch. A student who went ‘back home’ and didn’t come back to pay off her student loans. An abandoned facebook account, twitter, briefly started blog. A blog that might never see these pages, might never know my story, may never know the truth. Who I am, what I believe, It’s all I’ve ever had, my values and my way. I was going to carve my life from it, pave my path, do the work that I know needs to be done. Now, I’ve been reduced to a prisoner, with no internet, no phone, just an ability to write what may never be read. Pour myself out onto this white page. Hope that one day people will know of me, my story is read, maybe one day affect change in someone’s life or situation. Teach something, help someone, inspire survival and the never-ending fight for freedom. I’m not trying to sound conceded or self-important… lol. But yeah.

Later I felt what I thought was a grain of sand in my mouth. I spit out the small white object out, not sure what it was. After a while, I began feeling my bottom front teeth tugging at the tip of my tongue the way a small hook would threaten to tear at the skin of a finger. I grabbed my compact mirror and realized what the white stuff was. Somewhere along the way, likely when I got punched in the face, I must have ground my teeth and caused the tip of the bottom front ones to be grated off. I also found white gooey residue on my tinge which I guessed was related to the tooth enamel. The tips were now threatening to pierce me so I grabbed a nail file and tried to file the sharpness away. Unfortunately, nothing was quite doing the trick, maybe I couldn’t get the right angle.

What have I learned from this experience? You may not feel the pain at the moment, but you will find the bruises and feel the soreness and scrapes later. I already have fibromyalgia that keeps my upper back permanently inflamed, now they’re bruised too, increasing the pain and sensitivity. Wonderful. I definitely won’t be laying on my back again any time soon.

II

Time to recalibrate. I walked straight into the ‘bedroom’, put my bags down and opened them up. I couldn’t risk them making the decision to take my IDs, ticket info, papers, my money, or my remaining electronics. I took out my coin purse with my money, my printed plane ticket info, and my credit cards and IDs and I put them in my pocket. Then I took my laptop and my notebook out of the bags and hid them in the corner behind my carry on. I locked the door and took the time to process my situation. I couldn’t spare any tears for getting beaten, but I did feel the impact of the situation and what it meant for my future, my fate. Attempting to escape had just become 300% more scary and dangerous. It didn’t mean I wasn’t going to do it again, only that I needed more courage than before. And I needed to be smarter. I know now than an honest straightforward walkout is not an option anymore. I also know that they’re going to continue locking all the doors, including the kitchen door that leads to outside so that's not an option anymore. I also know when I walk out that door, they’ll all continue to be watching and spying on me to make sure I don’t try to leave again. All eyes are on me, daytime escape is out of the question. In fact, with this new intense atmosphere, I’m going to need to wait a while for things to calm down and guards to start dropping before I try anything again. At night, the room I have to walk through contains the grandmother and grandfather, but sometimes their sons as well. So 2-4 people who can clearly hear the huge front door being dragged open and closed. I need a better plan than just sneaking out. Luckily, the bathroom is located outside. Ding, ding. I’ll fake a shower. I’ll have to take a long ass middle of the night shower prior to set the standard, a few days before. So they see that it’s not out of the ordinary and don’t suspect anything. Set a precedent. I will walk out in my abaya, a small bag containing only the things I’ve just hidden away, the things I consider absolutely essential. The bag will have to be very discreet and invisible behind the towel and toiletry bag I’ll be holding. I’ll walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I’ll wait a few minutes then sneak out to make sure no one walking around or waiting for me right outside. Once I confirm the coast is clear, I will step out, using a coin I will lock the door from the outside. After that, I will briskly collect whatever buckets or pots I see loitering their tiny lawn, stack them, and climb over the wall. I’m confident I can get over using what I see laying around. The problem is what I’ll do after I get over the wall. It will be night time, pitch black. No way I’m going straight for a taxi, even if there are any taxis at that time of night, I wouldn’t trust them. Plus, as soon as they notice I’ve spent too long in the shower and break in to find me gone, they will be out looking for their stray. They will call in favors and spread the word I’m sure. I will need to lay low, basically, hide. I might look for an outhouse to hide out in, but I don’t even know where to find one of those. I just haven’t seen enough of this village to know spots or places to go. In other words, it was another unknown factor. I hate unknown factors and uncertainty. If I manage to find any begging women sleeping on the street or even if I find them during the day, I plan on joining them and thereby hiding in plain sight. Which will also be risky but I’m hoping to cover my face with my scarf will keep me from being identified. I don’t plan on waiting too long, perhaps 15 hours max, before I make my move and try to catch a cab to the city. Whenever it’s busiest I suppose, I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I get to it.

[pixiedurango]

Day 5 - 30 days of John Standring - Writing challenge

Hosted by the magnificent @deepestfirefun I still need to catch up a bit and this clearly went a bit out of hand. But I’m stubbornly keep going to have all the prompts tackled in time. Another episode of the love story between John x Meg (Who still has no family name and I am sorry but what do you mean by *doing air quotes* ‘building a backstory for your OCs’????)  Have some fluff instead that turns a bit angsty in the middle. Je ne regret rien!

The prompt sentences were: ‘You laugh, I laugh. You cry, I cry. You take my coffee, let God have mercy on your soul.’ ‘I never joke about my morning coffee, I take it very seriously.’ ‘I want to marry you! That’s what I’m trying to say!’ ‘Look at all the candles… is there something on your mind, sweet heart?’ 

 Enjoy!

Two weeks were, realistically and put into prospective in the great big scheme of things, a very short time span. But for John Standring the past two weeks had been close to eternity. Meg had spent two weeks of her summer vacation with one of her friends from university. She had visited her in Barcelona for a lot of sight seeing and girl talk. Though she had offered him to come along he had decided that she deserved some time undivided between the things she so much longed to do and probably missed since she was now stranded in the English province – and nursing her lummox of a boyfriend. It had taken a full week of constant back and forth until she finally had taken the invitation and finally believed him that he really would not mind her taking a trip without him.

Today was the day she would return and actually he had been using the time alone to think over many things. And when he finally got into his truck to drive the roundabout 300 kilometers to London in the middle of the night to pick her up from the airport, he never had been so sure about anything before in his life. ~   ~   ~

Saving money was per se not a bad thing but Meg eventually came to the conclusion that probably this time she went a bit overboard by booking a flight back to England that would have her landing in the dead of night and not even remotely close to home but at Heathrow. She would have to take the train for the last part of the trip and be home probably for breakfast. Anyway, taking a nightly flight had given her the chance to have a last splendid evening with her friend Luisa before heading home. Home. That was not longer London but Hebden up in the north. Even more it was John. Her John, the man she loved and who was the reason that said Hebden in the English province was no longer just a career station but the place she wanted to live in as long as he was there with her. There was basically nor reason to be reminded on that fact but when she now came through the gates with her luggage and he was there, awkwardly grinning, even with the typical sign that read her name as if he was a mere chauffeur to take her from the airport to her important whatever she was so full of love she barely could fathom it. Meg dropped everything she was carrying and just jumped into his arms, glad she had him back and he just held her close, kissing her breathless.

“Surprise!” He grinned, his forehead resting against hers, still holding her up as she had wrapped her arms and legs around him, slightly embarrassed that he was touching a woman’s butt in public but it was actually the only way to hold her secure. “You're crazy!” She was somewhere between laughing and crying happy tears. “But I love it. Love you! Missed you so bad!”

She loved him! Of course he knew it. She said it often and meant it. But still after all this time it left him in awe and disbelieve every single time he heard it. And he returned this love in this pure and innocent but at the same time so fiercely stubborn way only John Standring was capable of. “Missed you, too, darling. You're even more beautiful than I remember you. And look at all that tan... Curious to discover those famous tan lines everyone's talking about...” As always when he tried to be cheeky his ear tips became pink and there rose a giggle which he tried to hide but couldn't.

Meg giggled along with him as he eventually carefully let her back down to stand on her own two feet. “How do you know there will be a tan line at all?” She winked at him and see him even more blush.

But he boldly replied: “All the better!” while he grabbed for her luggage and they finally were on their way back to his truck that would bring them home.

~   ~   ~ The drive itself went smooth and giddy, singing along silly songs from the radio to chase away the sleepiness that was inevitably creeping up no matter how happy and excited they both were to have each other back.

It was close to dawn when he finally pulled into their street and only a few moments later he had parked his truck and they pulled out her luggage. John was tensed like a bowstring but he tried to not let it show. He was bad at it and he knew that, only hoping she would not insist on walking through her door instead of his. John came up with a plan and before he went to pick her up it had seemed like a glorious idea. Now he was not so sure anymore. But he was stubborn enough to push away all doubts and actually ushering her to his door. “C'mon. I'll make you sit in the parlour and get you some coffee.” Meg had nothing to object and actually gladly flopped into one of his old cozy armchairs while he hurried to the kitchen and there were the typical sounds of preparing coffee. Then some distant music was to hear and a moment later he was calling from the kitchen. “Meg, Love? Join me? Gotta show you somethin'.”

She actually groaned a little as she pushed herself up from her cozy resting place but she knew he would not bother her for nothing. When she eventually stood in the kitchen, one unintelligible sound fell from her lips and her hand snapped to cover her mouth.

The electric kitchen light was shut down even though dawn was barely there but the candles he had put onto the table in a heart shape gave enough light. He gently shoved her to her usual seat and placed a pot of steaming coffee in front of her. Still not sure whether this was a good or a very bad idea. Almost choking on his own anxiety he sat down at his usual chair, opposite to hers desperately wishing to have something to grasp so he could soothe his nerves and stop fidgeting with his fingers.

“Look at all the candles…” She nervously looked at him, feeling pretty strange all in a sudden. Was he trying to pull a proposal? Or was this just his awkward way to show her that he was glad to have her back? Once more declaring how much he loved her? She had no idea how she felt. No matter what it was that he was doing here. “Is there something on your mind, sweet heart?”

“Yes... nooooo...” To be honest, John was completely lost. The little box in his pocket suddenly felt impossibly heavy and he was almost sure she would laugh at him, reject and then leave for ever. What had he been thinking... He sighed and with no little effort he eventually pulled the box out. Needed to try more than once to open it to finally be able to place it on the table in the middle of the candle heart. “I want to marry you! That’s what I’m trying to say! But I'm flayed I totally fucked up. Don't know even what I've been thinkin... Nowt probably. Why would you wanna marry me to begin with...” He realized he was rambling but could not stop either and he was sure that all happiness would just end here and now and he was the only one ever to be blamed for that.

“Oh my God, John...” Her hands reached across the table, carefully avoiding to catch fire from the still burning candles. Covering his much larger ones which were actually trembling. His ear tips bright red and burning in blatant contrast to the ice cold of his hands. “Yes... yes of course. I want to marry you, too... but...” She stared at their hands, fingers entwined into each other, holding tight and she felt him tensing on her objection immediately and saw his shoulders drop.

“Don't you say yes just you feel pity for me... I understand. You'd probably had another life in mind than being stuck in’t province with’t village idiot...”

“Shut up, before I come to think you hit a point with the last thing.” Meg tried to joke but gloriously failed. She rose from her chair and hurried around the table, never letting go of his hands. John had been doing so well. Had found so much joy and confidence over the time they had been together, it all seemed to have vanished within a second. Hunched in his chair, staring at the ground clearly feeling small and uncomfortable but still not able to pull his hands back from hers.

She went down to sit on her knees just to be able to look at up into his face from below as he was refusing to look at her. “John, listen.” She knew her voice could intimidate people at times and so she tried carefully to sound calm, soft and reasonable. Good thing was, he had not been running so far, fleeing the situation as he often tend to do in case of arguments he couldn't handle. Meg decided to take that as a good sign. “A but does not mean I accept your proposal out of pity. Would you please, please listen to me. And carefully? I love you. And I want to be your wife with all my heart. There's a but only  because we should think of several matters before we tie the knot in a haste.”

“Matters? What matters I wonder...” He muttered but at least he was talking. And reluctantly looking down on her, barely able to meet her eyes but trying. What could be complicated in a marriage for love?

“The... houses. We might want to... decide what to do with them.” She got up, nudging him softly to give her space to sit on his lap. He needed just as much comfort as she right now.

At least she did not run yet, he kept telling himself. She was not angry, yelling at him or throwing things. She wanted to stay close but still, John had a bit difficulties to follow where she was going with her objection. Money, property it all had mattered once when Carol had proposed to him once when she needed him to save Sparkhouse. He had rejected for good reasons. Because hers were all the wrong ones and he had been lucky enough to see that before he could make the biggest mistake of his life. “What about the houses?” They both owned theirs and it was a great comfort to know. They were not wealthy but better off than most. He had no idea where her thoughts went and his words came out a bit more gruff than technically necessary.

Meg softly caressed his  face, gentle fingers attempting to smooth out his frown and the upset arch of his eyebrows. “Maybe we should think of actually living together first. Like really together, not in two houses practically just visiting each other.”

“But we're together all't time anyway. Sleepin’, eatin’... everythin’” He gently objected, taking the opportunity to catch her hand to place a kiss on her palm. “Where'd be't difference?” He knew there was one. Every once in a while there were days they just ended up in each their own houses. Sometimes after a little argument, sometimes just because their schedules and working times made it more convenient to sleep alone or one was just so busy doing their own thing that each one stuck to their own place.

“We can never know until we've really tried it. Also, we could think about finally breaking through a few walls, making it one house instead of two. More rooms, one main door, things like that. We'd have to take up a credit probably and need a proper plan.” She saw his face brighten and it gave her the courage to carry on with her second suggestion. “And then there's still your... dream.”

“Dream, what dream?” Indeed right now he could not think of any other dream of spending the rest of his life with her as a wedded couple happily ever after. And he actually liked the idea of one big house. With enough space that thinking about becoming a real family became actually a very real and pleasant vision which made him almost glow from the inside. So far he liked very much what she was suggesting.

“Sparkhouse.” She only replied with a soft smile. “Selling the houses to buy it and rebuild so you can get back into farming.”

It was getting better and better and John was glad he had been strong and patient enough to not desperately run at the first sign of (falsely predicted) rejection. The look he gave her was so full of love she just knew she had been right to never forget about that dream of his as he always had secretly nursed it but rarely spoken of it ever again. “You'd really do that for me? Farm work is hard and dirty and we'd be away from't town.”

“That's what I mean. We shall take our time to make a reliable plan of what we want and be able to do before we go to get married. Now... Is that acceptable?” She was giving him an ensuring, borderline mischievously little grin he just could not help but return and wrap her closer and kiss her fiercely.

“More than acceptable, love.” He replied huskily and utterly relieved once their lips had parted and he grabbed over the table to wiggle the ring out of its box with one hand. The least he could do was offering to put it on her finger. He chuckled a bit conscious. “I probably should go down on bended knee but I cannot for a cute little imp is sitting on my lap.”

“It's perfect.” She assured him, finally holding out her hand so he could place the ring. “We do it our way.”

“Our way!” He repeated as if it was a holy oath. Then, after a sweet moment of mutual looking at the newly placed ring on her finger, he finally got up in a strong move, taking her with him, to hold her and swing around in the kitchen, just happy that everything went well. They laughed and kissed and never stopped holding onto each other even after he had put her back to the ground onto her own to feet. She was his fiancee now. His soon to be wife. Mrs. Standring. John felt like he was the luckiest bastard in the whole wide world.

“Now... I think I remember I was promised a morning coffee.” She was smirking up to him and he could not help but chuckle.

“You be jokin'. You just got yourself engaged and all you think about is your coffee?”

“I never joke about my morning coffee, I take it very seriously.” She replied with a deadpan expression and he could not help bursting out into a rumbling laughter as he went over to the coffee maker to keep his promise while she was giggling. “You laugh, I laugh. You cry, I cry. You take my coffee, let God have mercy on your soul.”

“Will keep that in mind.” He joined the laughter and unapologetically stole another deep kiss before handing over the mug to his fiancee.

[exquisite-yoongi]

EVERYTHING ABOUT YOONGI

This post is hella long but there is everything you should know or watch about Min Yoongi. You’ll find facts, best of fancams, unforgettable quotes & legendary lyrics.

FACTS 

• real name is Min Yoongi

• born 9 March 1993

• from Daegu 

• Suga is short for Shooting Guard (his position in basket)

• alias Min Suga alias Grandpa alias Agust D alias Motionless Min alias Turtle alias Sugar alias DBoy alias Min Suga Genius Jjang Jjang man Bboong Bboong 

• loves music 

• absolute lyrical genius

• raps faster than the speed of light. hella control over his voice (X)

• is ranked 11 as the fastest rapper on Korea & on top three as fastest ‘idol’ rapper

• plays the piano (X & X)

• amazing on stage : completely in his element

• released a mixtape under the name Agust D 

• his mixtape saved hip-hop. Saved lives. Saved the world goddamn Yoongi

• he produced his entire mixtape just by himself. Worked very hard on it every time he could (between schedule, in planes, along working for other musics for BTS)

• this masterpiece was released for free

• there is no imitation, no meaningless lyrics, no misogyny and no racial slurs on it

• his mixtape talks about him and his struggles

• was the happiest person in the world when he met Kumamom. It was way too adorable for this world to handle (X)

• very socially aware, he wants to use his fame to shift people’s attention to global problems 

• which he did with the campaign Love Yourself in 2017 

• when he got sick and was rushed to the hospital, he couldn’t assist a concert. During his vacation time, he went to the stadium by himself and wrote about it in the fancafe. He sat in the seats of the stadium and forced himself to imagine the fans’ emotions on the day that was supposed to be the concert. He then wrote a long apology. 

• works from 12 am to 6 am on music. even after a full day of training or concert preparation or filming etc. That’s why he sleeps whenever he gets the chance

• when BTS had to pack for their backpacking trip through Europe, he was the one that remembered to pack medicine and first aid supplies. he cleaned up before living the hotel room, helped cooking and was in charge of their budget

• wrote, composed, produced some of BTS songs (like Tomorrow, Never Mind, Dead Leaves, Boyz with Fun, ~) 

• participate in the making of almost every Bts song

• looks gorgeous in every hair colour 

• twice said he would sue Bighit if his hair started falling out haha

• gummy smile (X)

• laughs in 10 different ways

• in the song ’Moving On’ he dedicated his section to his Mom, who was sick after she gave birth to him

• he danced around the studio in the early hours of the morning when ’Never Mind’ was approved to be the intro of HYYH pt.2

• really like a lamb skewers. wants to open a lamb skewers restaurant with Jungkook (X)

• his only goal is to make music that gives people emotions or comfort

• the root of his passion goes back to when he started making music at the age of 13

• his dream was to perform at Olympic Gymnastics Arena. at the end of the concert, he looked for his parents and brother in the crowd. when he saw them he smiled and got on the floor to do a deep bow (the kind where your forehead touches the ground) and cried for the first time at a concert (X & X)

• at fansigns, fan get to write them a question “What’s more important? Face or body?” Is asked a lot and Yoongi is the only one that writes a third option “Personality” and circles it and write that it’s the most important. he does this every time the question comes up

• when asked for the ideal weight in a girl he writes a ridiculous number

• when asked what age difference he would date he wrote 81 years haha

• tells everyone to eat well and take care of themselves 

• loves his fans more than anything

• extremely open-minded person 

• in a recent interview in the US, he always specified boyfriend or girlfriend when asked about dating

• when he and Namjoon were being disrespected by Bfree during an interview, he stayed calm and handled the situation very well.

• then proceeded to drag the HELL OUT OF HIM in Cypher pt.2

• the S in Suga stands for Savage

• sarcasm is his second name

• relatable af

• the time he and Hoseok (J-hope) reacted to a try not to laugh challenge of themselves and Yoongi laughed so hard he choked

• his existence is art

• the thing he does when his members are doing embarrassing stuff he just curls up and covers his face

• on his first birthday after he debuted he spent his own money to make gifts for the fans and hand-wrote over 300 notes (each one different…!)

• took pictures of Jungkook at his graduation like he was a proud parent

• the time when he and Hoseok lost a game and didn’t get dinner, Jimin brought them a crab from their table and Yoongi let Hoseok have it “seeing my dongsaeng eat makes me feel full”

• he silently takes care of bangtan

• says his members are his closest friends

• says Bighit is like a family

• when Hoseok was celebrating New Years alone in the dorms, Yoongi left his family and showed up with chicken just so Hoseok wouldn’t have to spend new years by himself

• that time during a fanmeeting a fan asked him “My Yoongi vitamin. I like you so much that I can’t live properly, tell me how to solve this?” and he responded “Just totally give up on this life and just only look at me.” (X)

• that one time Yoongi got really passionate about coffee and said he needed 309 people to help him “catch” coffee

• the time he sang his heart out with Hoseok for “I was able to eat well” and sounded terrible

• the time they had a high note challenge and Yoongi sang so high that no noise came out (X)

• so extra all the time

• that time he had to introduced himself and pulled confetti out of his pocket and threw it over himself (X)

• but also unamused all the time

• he’s a paradox

• the way he’s scared of fireworks going off (X)

• easily put in place by Jin, but also ignores all of his jokes

• really good dancer

• he just works hard

• that time a member woke him up by accident and Yoongi swore on camera (X)

• literally a deadass person at the awards show until Namjoon was up next to perform and Yoongi couldn’t stop being hyped and looking for him (X)

• that time Min Yoongi fell off a chair and told us on Twitter and RM made fun of him and suggested we now call him “MinClumsy” or “MinButt” 

• #MinButt (#민덩방아) was then trending on Twitter

• RM proceeded to publish a picture where Yoongi shows his butt and put 2 bandages on him (X)

• says he’s not always the best at expressing himself verbally, but wants everyone to know he is always thankful

• said in an interview his life style was “sleep eat work” 

• proud father of Shooky, his BT21 character 

IMPORTANT OR LEGENDARY FANCAMS

• Airplane pt.2, Lotte Family Concert (180622) -> I need holy water (1:44)

• First Love, Wings Tour Final (171208) -> couldn’t finish singing because of his emotions

• Spring Day, MMA (171202) -> absolute god

• Come Back Home, SEO TAIJI 25th Concert Anniversary (170924) -> this whole concert was dope tbh

• Fire, MMA (161119) -> infires man

• Blood Sweat & Tears, Mnet MCountdown Comeback Stage (161027) -> bless the wind

• Fire, (160907) -> happy, cute, cocky and sexy all at once

• Baepsae, in Beijing (160723) -> tired but still oh boy damn. 

• Tomorrow, in Beijing (160723) -> sweating Yoongi

• I like it pt. 2, (160614) -> smiles everytime he hears the fans screaming because of their dance then acts sexy on purpose

• Dope, KBS Open Concert (160315) -> this boy has no chill god dammit

• I Need U + Run, MBC (151231) -> Yoongi playing the piano

• I Need U, (151106) -> looks so good 

• Boyz With Fun, (151028) -> Suga having fun + smile smile smile + looks so fine 

• Cypher pt. 2 & 3, All Force One (150920) -> if you don’t know about this you’re missing on something big. 

LEGENDARY LYRICS 

• “A to the G to the U to the STD” - Agust D

• “My seat is business, yours is economy, forever behind me kissing my ass” - Agust D

• “Min Yoongi is already dead (I killed him)” - The Last

• “A word said like habit, oh, I don’t give a shit, I don’t give a fuck, those words are all words I use to hide my weak self” - The Last

• “This world sprinkled with my creations, I’ve tasted sweetness and bitterness and even shit, from that time I tried to sleep on the floor of a bathroom, now it’s a memory to me” - The Last

• “Dream, rather than humble, at the end we’ll be prosperous” - So Far Away

• “A brown piano settled on one side” - First Love 

• “It’s not easy but I say to myself, If you think you’re going to crash, step on the pedal harder” - Never Mind

• “Bultaoreune” - Fire

• “Yes, look down on me like that. It’s my hobby to prove you wrong” - We On

• “If I’m the sun you’re the moon, because when I rise, you go down.” - Cypher pt. 2 : Triptych

• “I’m a starfish that eats and grows on your jealousy and envy, As you know, my voice will turn you on, Whether it’s a guy or girl, my tongue will make you come" - Cypher pt.3 

• “Mic mic bungee” - MIC Drop

• “I’m a D-boy yeah I’m a D-boy” - Ma City 

UNFORGETTABLE QUOTES

• “love yourself love myself peace” - MMA (171202)

• "Min Suga. Genius. Those two words should be enough"

•  “I want to reincarnated and be a rock in my next life”

• “I’m father Louis Williams Suga Adams the Third”

• “I’m good at doing ugly stuff”

• “I’d like to introduce you to my lover… this neckpillow”

• “I’ve always wanted to nap in a different country”

Inspired by x 

OTHER MEMBERS : Jin / Hoseok / Namjoon / Jimin / Taehyung / Jungkook 

[apartyofone]

Euro finale

Last of my notes:

The cabbie from Nice airport was talkative and friendly - already a change of pace from the icy cold Swiss. When I told him the name of the hotel he smiled and said - you're in for a very special stay! Wow - ok that sounded interesting. He dropped me off - and within 5 minutes I started to understand what he meant. The name of the hotel is Hotel La Perouse. I suggest anyone reading this account should Google it because my description is probably not going to be worthy of this grand place. Eh, never mind - I'll save you the time.  

https://www.hotel-la-perouse.com/

The hotel itself is built into the contours of a cliff that divides Nice - to the south is the long beach and promenade. (Sadly - the place of that horrible terrorist attack in 2016 -

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2016_Nice_attack

But here’s a look at the hotel:

Yeah, it was that good.

The fun started when I checked in. The porter grabbed my too-heavy suitcase and made for the elevator. Which only went to one other level - 5 floors above the street, just one stop. Straight up the cliff. We wound around the hotel to elevator #2. That went another 4 floors. And then the final elevator - up to the top 3 floors! I finally memorized the route by day 2! My room was not facing the sea - damnit - but that probably meant my 300 Euro room would have been 500 or more. That's fine. I had a lovely cool patio against the cliffside, private and surrounded the dry native vegetation clinging to the cliff. The room itself was spacious and modern. In fact every hotel I chose on this top was fabulous for one reason or another. Even Geneva with it's strange sexual symbols throughout the place! Maybe those Swiss aren't so cold after all.

Now I was energized to explore this amazing town. The cab ride had been straight from the airport but the cabbie had told me about exploring the old town sections. That proved to be one of the highlights of this trip. I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the narrow streets and alleys of this ancient town. While I couldn't say that it was crowded with tourists, there were always a few people around. Every different little alcove had its own character to it. So many restaurants - many of them shuttered in the heat of the afternoon. I walked probably 4 miles around just one part of the huge old city, poking my head into courtyards and building if the gate/door was open. No one objected to the obvious tourist having a look around. Warm and welcoming - that's the theme of this part of France. At least where ever I journeyed. Maybe I was putting too much stock into the difference in Switzerland to France? Could be.

I knew I was coming back to this maze of streets on my final day, so I decided to extend my touristic range. I booked a trip through the hotel for a brief glimpse of Monaco and Monte Carlo for the next morning. Then I walked around the cliffside, away from the beach promenade,  to the less touristy area of Nice, near the harbor. The hotel did a great job of recommending restaurants and I found - and enjoyed - a seafood place right across from the yacht moorage. After exploring a bit of the residential blocks going into the hills I trudged back to my hotel. I think I logged a good 6-8 miles of walking! Had a nightcap in the delightful bar area near the pool and struck up a conversation with a lovely lady who was leaving the next morning. Unfortunately I couldn't talk her into extending her stay. But I might have a place to stay in Paris next year. : ) My bag might be heavy yet again.

My final day of vacation - and I think I took advantage of every single moment. After a nice breakfast with my new friend, I put her in her cab for the airport and I met my tour guide Joseph. I booked a  half day tour into Monaco - and it turned out to be almost a private tour! Only two other people on the tour bus - a couple from Italy - and two tour guides! The couple paired off with the Italian speaker, and I was with Joe, a fascinating Frenchman. Around 60 years old, Joe has spent his entire life in the tourism and travel industry, from hotels and hospitality, to cruise ships and now doing tours in Nice and Monte Carlo.

You know how there are some people that you instantly bond with? Well, Joe was one of those guys. (And let's face it - this is a pretty rare occasion in my rather closed off life). If I had more time I think he and I would have had some interesting times, showing me all of the real parts of Nice that tourists never see. I kept his card - I WILL look him up when I go back.

The hours we spent together were pretty amazing. Yes, we hit the tourist joints of Eze - an amazing enclave clinging to the side of the coast above Monaco - and through Monte Carlo. But he detoured to a different route back to Nice, through the chiseled hills that wind around the coastal communities. Not for the first time on this trip I thought my time in Geneva was such a waste! I could have spent days enjoying this amazing place on the earth. Ugh - next time.

Monaco is post card pretty. I only had a chance to see a few of the best sights. Oh yeah, and I ran into Prince Albert.

http://apartyofone.tumblr.com/post/173125069279/so-i-was-strolling-around-in-front-of-the-royal

Joe had a tour group booked in the evening but he pointed to his favorite restaurant, on the main square of old town Nice. I gave Joe's name to the restaurant host.....and I found myself at the best table in the place. The owner came out and trying to speak English grasped my hand. I took that to mean that any friend of Joe is welcome! He left a carafe of his house wine and so the meal began. I didn't even order. Out came this amazing fresh grouper served on saffron rice. All day I started to understand the relationship to north Africa, just across the Med. Now the spices in the foods were reflecting this complex cultural crossroads.

The sun had long gone down and the alleys of old town were dark - highlighted only by the numerous small restaurants tucked in the ancient buildings, tables spilling outside with bursts of sounds and songs. In any other city I probably would have felt a little threatened or worried about the darkness; for some reason (maybe the wine?) I felt very safe as I wondered through the lanes. Finally my feet gave out on me - thank God I had invested in great walking shoes for this trip unlike Euro 17 - and I regretfully ended up at my hotel. I resolved I would be back for more - much more.

I lingered at the outdoor bar for another hour just reflecting on my day. Alas, didn't find a new friend that night. But as I had a crazy early day - travel day - it was just as well. I walked up to the roof top one last time and took pictures.

After packing for my long journey home I finally fell asleep - satisfied that I had made the most of this Euro journey.

++++++++++

I started the day on the roof of the hotel. I wanted some sun rise pictures over the beach and sea. I was sooooo blessed with the weather on this trip. Joe had told me that the previous FOUR WEEKS had been almost non stop rain. Glad that my only bad weather was in London - almost appropriate there.

I knew my travel day home was going to be hellish - it didn't disappoint.

9 AM - Train from Nice to Paris - thank god not on strike. The seatmates in my first class car were all Americans in a group tour. They were buzzing about how they found a pick pocket and outed her to the police.

3 PM - Arrive in Paris, the Gard Lyon Station. I had hoped to dine at the famous restaurant above the station. By the way - if you need to ever book travel in Europe I recommend this site: https://www.seat61.com/. It's the ultimate guide to train travel and more. He recommended this amazing art deco restaurant at the top of this legendary station. Alas.... there was no elevator to the restaurant. And me, stuck with my fucking heavy luggage, was not going to be trudging up 3 flights of stairs. Oh well, next time.

5 PM - Arrive at De Gaulle Airport for my trip back to the US. Check in was so easy compared to what we have to endure in the US. I felt every bit as safe flying out of Europe as with the heavy handed US TSA. Had an amazing pre flight meal - even the airport restaurants in France are superb - to use up my last Euros. Boarded right on time for Norweigen Air flight.

12:00 Midnight, JFK Airport. Slept most of the flight on this most comfortable airline and airplane. Most notable thing - I was on aisle seat with two young males in the middle and window seat. On a 9 hour flight they didn't move once - not to the bathroom or even for food/drink. Zombies? Maybe.

My kids S and C were there to pick me up. Neither one are great city/freeway drivers. But they decided to stay up late and team up to bring me home. I slept most of the 1:45 trip home.

And finally we were back. The longest time I had spent away from my home for....wow....maybe decades. I recall some long sales trips when I worked with Mattel a long time ago.

I was  happy physically to be home. Mentally? Not so much. This trip satisfied many questions for me, in many ways. I had wondered if my view of Paris especially was colored by a first time infatuation. No, my love for that place is set in stone. My mind is even more made up.

I suppose too my unhappiness - maybe desperation!? - of our current domestic political situation is driving me away. Even if that cunt Trump is tossed out in 2020 the devastation he has left has scarred this country. I don't really want to be a part of the damage control - not with the sunset of my life before me.

++++++++++++

What will I remember from Euro 2018? So much.

 The book scene in London was energizing.

 Exploring more of my love of WW2 history. 

Immersing myself in Paris. 

The cold hardness of Geneva.

The warmth - people,  places and things - of Nice. 

A glorious 18 day sojourn, filled with memories and pictures.

Solo travel isn't so bad. Especially in the few spots where it isn't so solo.

This trip has only encouraged me to renew my mind, body, spirit- and passport - for more trips to come.

[p1-fanfiction-blog]

Invitation

Characters: AJ Styles x Kenny Omega

(Current day AJ and younger Kenny Omega)

Summary: A/U story where AJ is home for the holidays and is finally relaxing for once during his days off. Boredom sets in one night and he decides to browse around online for some “company”.

Warnings: Rough sex, daddy kink, choking, and probably some spelling mistakes. Of course this is a m/m pairing, so if this fic (or the pairing for that matter) is not your cup of tea please keep rude comments to yourself and don’t read. Otherwise, continue on!

Written for the lovely @we-work-hard! I do hope you enjoy 💕

<p>(Side note: Here’s some photos of AJ now and a young Kenny from 10 years ago)</p>

Christmas in Georgia. It was nothing special, really. It was like every other holiday celebrated in different parts of the world (minus the snow, of course), and to AJ it wasn’t something that was a huge deal to him unless his family was around. So for now, Christmas was just like any other day. And this was the year he didn’t have the kids so he had the house all to himself, so with two weeks off of work and no friends around things got boring rather quickly.

He watched about twenty movies that seemed interesting on Netflix, played in his arcade more than a few times, worked out in the gym, just anything he could really think of for the time being. And still, after doing all of this a bunch and the first week of his days off with one more to go, he needed to find some more forms of entertainment.

AJ walked down the stairs from his gaming room and lazily threw himself onto the couch. He tapped his fingers on the soft cushions before deciding to browse around on his phone. As his mind started to wonder he came to realize he hasn’t gotten laid in a while. A long, while, actually– so he looked through his contacts and pondered on who to call for some fun at this time of night.

He wondered if Sarah, this girl who lives only a couple of blocks away would be interested.. then decided against it as he remembered she had a boyfriend now. Another woman named Carrie popped up but again, out of the question as she was also gone for vacation. His smile quickly turned into a frown when he thought he could call up a good “friend” as it’s been a while, but then remembered again that he recently got married to a woman he was dating. Shit. He really didn’t know anybody else in his hometown. He groaned in frustration as he palmed his hardening dick through the front of his jeans. Another idea quickly came to mind though. He just needed to figure out a way to be more discreet about it.

•••

“Hey, Kenny.. Your hooker phone just went off!”

Kenny sighed and shook his head as he paused his game. He went into the kitchen where the extra phone was charging and gave his roommate a playful slap on the head. “For the hundredth time.. it’s not a ‘hooker’ phone, it’s my work phone. And at least I don’t give it up for free like your trashy ass,” he explained as a matter-of-factly. He typed in his password and read that he had an inquiring customer.

I’m interested in something for tonight only. If all goes well maybe I will re-hire a couple times more before I am back at work. Willing to host.

Alright, Kenny thought. It sounded like a good deal. He wouldn’t have to get in touch with the company to book a room for them. He had a few regular clients so it was nice to see that someone new was interested in him. He continued to chat with the new guy on what he’s into, address, location, payment.. all the basics. Once he asked for a photo of his customer is when things got a little iffy.

I can’t provide a photo at the moment as I’m not totally comfortable with that.

Fair enough. Usually Kenny would end the conversation there but the man was offering a good amount of money for only a couple of hours. It really would do him some more good if he can get this man to become a regular. He attempted to console him a little more.

I totally understand, man. But this is a discreet business, and I never expose my clients or share any sort of personal information. This is simply to ensure of my safety as well.

He waited and waited for another response. Kenny was ready to just leave it be until…

I’m sort of a public figure with what I do for a living. So something like this could hurt me if anyone was to find out. I also wouldn’t ruin myself by putting your life in any kind of danger for that matter. Tell you what, if we could meet without a photo I’ll throw an extra $300 on top of what I’m already paying for. Cash.

Now he was curious. Kenny thought about it for a good ten minutes before deciding on what to do. This guy certainly has money, and also judging by the address he lived in a decent neighbourhood too. A very nice place, in fact. He let his roommates know where he would be and that he’d carrying his personal phone in case he needed them.

Sounds like something I could work with. I’ll be there within an hour after I receive your payment. See you soon!

Sent. He saved his game, placed his phone back on the dresser and began to get ready. Tonight should be quite entertaining and he wanted to look his best.

•••

The doorbell rang and of course AJ knew who the special guest of the night was. He took a deep breath as he straightened his hair, pulled down his shirt, then slowly opened to door for his “visitor”. He invited Kenny in as he looked around outside to make sure there wasn’t any unwanted eyes lurking about. Then again he just needed to stop being so paranoid.

But as soon as Kenny was inside all his previous worries were out that door. He looked even better than the photos on his ad. His eyes were like a bright blueish green, he was a little shorter than him, and when he took off his sweater he could see more of the tanned muscle definition underneath his tight fitting t-shirt. Kenny was also taken back by how great his customer was looking. He didn’t look like the serial killer he was picturing in his head on the ride there. To him, AJ was pretty damn good looking for an older man. But as for the “public figure” bit, he didn’t recognize him at all. And he didn’t want to ask as it was none of his business.

“Hey there,” Kenny finally introduced himself, giving his client his signature half-smile, half-smirk as he held out to shake AJ’s hand. “The name is Kenny. It’s great to meet you.” He liked to keep it casual at first. Talking to his customers as they are normal people instead of being cheesy and telling them how horny he is, or asking how they’d like to fuck his nice, tight ass. Kenny liked to work his way around that particular predicament later on in the conversation.

“Name’s AJ,” he replied as he took Kenny’s hand, firmly and quietly. He looked him in the eyes and quickly looked away as Kenny smiled sweetly and threw his hoodie on a chair nearby. AJ cleared his throat and continued on. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Oh, thank you.. but no,” Kenny politely declined. “I don’t drink.”

Judging by AJ’s body language he seemed a bit more relaxed with him being there so he decided to start flirting a bit as he moved more closer to AJ, eyeing him up and down as he playfully bit his bottom lip. “But I really wouldn’t mind having a taste of you right now.”

This caused AJ to laugh nervously and he swallowed hard. He didn’t know what the hell came over him. He’s usually not like this when it came to having sex. Maybe it was from the excitement of doing it anonymously with a stranger for the first time as his previous partners were always someone he’s at least known for a while. Kenny turned around to dim the living room lights as he took AJ’s hand and led him to one of the couches.

He allowed the other man to get himself comfortable as he slowly peeled off his shirt, giving him another one of his mischievous smiles as he got down on his knees in front of AJ. Kenny remembered the instructions he was given prior to arriving to his house. “However, you still haven’t given me the promised payment. You know.. to ‘ensure my safety’ or whatever.” What a little shit.

AJ scoffed and continued to go along with it as he too remembered what he stated. He reached into the right pocket of his jeans and flashed Kenny the thick wad of money for a few seconds before placing it back in. “You want it? Come get it.”

Kenny smiled as he began to pick himself up, but that came to a halt as AJ leaned forward and spoke in a stern tone. “Ah-ah! Nope! I want you to get back down on your knees, and crawl.” Kenny scoffed. Who does this guy think he is?

“Or I could just cancel on everything and you can go on home. Choice is yours,” AJ teased. He patted one of his knees as he gave Kenny another devious grin. “You really want it, don’t you? Show me. Now crawl.”

Now Kenny would be lying to himself if this whole ordeal didn’t turn him on as well. He was always used to being the one in control when it came to his clients, maybe a quick fuck at some motel or a blowjob in the vehicle while their wife and kids were fast asleep. Not to say he was miserable as he was always thankful for his loyal customers who paid him generously.. But this was definitely some exciting change for once and he really was all for it.

The closer Kenny crawled to him the more AJ’s cock stiffened up against the front of his tight fitted jeans. He looked like an absolute slut as he made contact with AJ when he was rested between his legs, making sure he swayed his hips as he did so. He gingerly unbuttoned AJ’s pants and was quite impressed with the man’s size, and his own dick twitched at the sight of pre-cum already oozing from the tip. It felt great to have someone touch AJ’s cock again as Kenny slowly began pumping his hand up and down for a few moments before making use of his mouth.

This is what AJ had been waiting for and he didn’t disappoint. Kenny started off with simple kitten licks underneath and all around his shaft. Teasing him as he made his way up to the tip of his cock, slowly dragging the flat of his tongue across the sensitive spot that caused AJ to shiver. He stopped and did the same thing, starting from the bottom of his cock again and ending at the very edge before finally wrapping his plump lips around and sucking all the way down.

“O-Oh, fuck,” AJ slipped out. The vibration from Kenny’s giggle felt so good he couldn’t help but buck his hips a little. There was a constant battle for AJ to close his eyes shut or continue to watch and enjoy what would happen next. He wished he hadn’t left his phone by the table, he would’ve loved to film this expert sucker as “use” for later.

He pushed that thought out of his mind as he grabbed Kenny by his blonde curls, forcing the rest of his length down and just holding his head there. AJ knew he’d be able to take it as he had already felt his cock hit the back of his throat. Kenny’s eyes widened in surprise but he didn’t protest. One second, two, three, four.. his arms stretched out and fingers gripped on AJ’s hips. Now counting to five, six, seven, and eight– Kenny’s gag reflex was felt by ten seconds and AJ released him as his cock slowly popped out of the younger man’s mouth.

“You fucking prick,” Kenny chuckled as he spat on AJ’s dick before taking it all back into his mouth. Again, he was being forced to deep throat and AJ couldn’t help but groan out loud and pull on his hair again. A few more repeats of this pattern and Kenny was now having his face full on fucked as he struggled to breathe through his nose. The pace quickened with each passing moment as he felt his gag reflex start to act up again. The sounds coming from Kenny’s throat were beautiful. The whole thing was such a turn on and AJ would’ve been happy to cum like that but he wasn’t done just yet. He abruptly stopped thrusting and took his cock out, enjoying the mess Kenny had made with his own saliva dripping down the front of his chest.

AJ couldn’t help but chuckle at the disappointed look on Kenny’s face. He may have been enjoying that a little too much as well after all. “We’re not done just yet. I want you to be a good boy and lay your back on the floor there,” he ordered. Kenny complied, and AJ nodded at his direction in approval. “You’re being so good for daddy, now,” he pulled his own shirt off over his head and threw it across the room, then unzipped the rest of his jeans as he stood up and let them fall down to the floor. “Take the rest of your clothing off. We got a long way to go.”

Daddy, huh? Kenny could roll with this.

Kenny now inwardly excited for what was to come, he did as he was told and blushed at the man in front of him. His body was perfect. And if he wasn’t completely hard before he definitely was now with the sight he witnessed before him. He tossed his back and groaned. He needed AJ inside of him now as it was his turn to settle himself in front Kenny. He shifted and positioned himself between Kenny’s legs, cupping his hands under his thighs to lift them. He gasped in surprise as AJ spit onto his entrance. He was getting right to the point and he loved that.

Suddenly, AJ was flashing the money in front of Kenny again. “This IS what you want isn’t it?” he teased. Kenny eagerly nodded, playing into the little game they continued with but at the same time he just wanted to get fucked already. He never wanted cock from a client so badly before.

“Then I’m gonna have to hear you say it. I want you to beg for daddy now, that you want this cock or you won’t be rewarded like I promised.”

Kenny sighed and pouted for a moment before finally removing his arms from the sides of his body. He reached down and hooked his hands behind his knees, pulling his legs back and wide– exposing his ass and showing AJ just how much he wanted it.

“Please, daddy, please.. I want..” Kenny blushed before he continued on, this making AJ smile as he was pleased with his little toy in front of him. “I want.. your cock so badly! I need you to fuck me. Now.” He loved how pathetic and needy Kenny was behaving.

“Good boy, that’s what I thought you wanted.”

AJ sat back up and firmly placed one of his hands on Kenny’s hip, using his saliva once more as lubricant. “You’re just aching to be filled, aren’t you?”

Kenny moaned and nodded again, his fingers were digging deep into the backs of his knees and he pulled them wider. He too was getting off on the show he was putting on for AJ. He absolutely loved it when his partners acted out the way he’d imagine and he also couldn’t help but smile at his eagerness. Gripping the base of his cock, AJ positioned it and pressed the head against his hole, causing Kenny to gasp and shift himself.

Kenny’s hips began to roll whore-ishly as AJ continued to tease his him. Stroking it back and forth which was also teasing himself something fierce as well. He groaned with him as he glanced down and noticed Kenny’s cock was looking painfully hard and leaking.

“Please, daddy.. Fuck me,” he whimpered. With such desire.. He didn’t need to say anymore.

After all of that how could AJ resist? He gripped the base of his cock again and pushed with some effort to spread the tight muscles out a little more to ease into it. He forgot how fucking good it felt to have his dick inside another man, and he wasn’t even all the way in yet.

Kenny cried out as the first barrier was broken, arching his back, again pulling the backs of his thighs as he almost had his knees up against his chest. His body twisted off more to the side, this allowing AJ more access to go even deeper.

“My god, you’re so tight,” AJ groaned. Kenny continued to moan and toss his head. “Are you sure you want daddy to keep going?”

Kenny can only nod so AJ continued to slowly thrust forward some more. The contractions of Kenny’s muscles deliciously milking him were also allowing him to slide in much easier and deeper. AJ groaned and buried himself in one final thrust, now balls deep against Kenny’s tight ass.

Even though Kenny has had sex with men many times like this before, he has never had a cock as big as AJ’s in a very long time. It almost felt like he was a virgin again. And it really didn’t help that it’s been a while since he got fucked because again, his regulars mostly preferred handjobs or head. AJ now pressed his hands to Kenny’s thighs again, feeling the thick muscles quiver beneath his palms. He paced his breathing as AJ began to slowly move until Kenny threw his head forward and moaned loudly, which really only meant one thing.

Ecstasy.

AJ found himself struggling to steady his breathing as well. He maintained his position, allowing Kenny again to adjust before slowly pulling back out. As he felt his ass being emptied, he began to buck his hips and whimper in protest.

“No! No..! Daddy please don’t stop!”

AJ grinned, the power rush starting to overwhelm him.

“Oh, I’m not stopping, little one. I’m just getting ready to fuck you until you can’t stand it anymore. You DO want that, don’t you?”

He continued to slowly pull out, finally stopping but only leaving the head of his cock inside. AJ didn’t move for several seconds, and in frustration at being nearly emptied, Kenny rolled his hips once again. He whimpered and cried out loudly, hoping that each time he thrust forward he would be impaled again.

With one swift motion, AJ drove his cock back deep down inside of him. Kenny yelled out with his arms flying forward and gripping AJ’s shoulders. And slowly AJ retreated again, only pulling out so much that the tip was still inside– His cock barely keeping Kenny open. And again he had the man pleading beneath him.

“Please! Please! Please!”

His writhing and moaning really had AJ going. And if he decided now to fuck him hard and fast he would have them both cumming within a few short thrusts. But he wanted to draw it out and enjoy the feast of his desires. Again, he instantly plowed back into him. Balls pressed against his ass. Kenny jerked hard and grunted, and over and over AJ continued to deep fuck him– slowly and agonizingly, hitting Kenny’s prostate each and every time. Beads of pre-cum were now leaking down onto Kenny’s chest and it was probably the hottest thing AJ has ever seen.

“How does it feel to be teased? It doesn’t very feel nice now that daddy is doing it, huh?” AJ panted. After torturing the poor boy he finally plowed his cock deep inside of his lover and just held it there. He released Kenny’s thighs and settled himself on top of him. Kenny was teetering on the edge as he was violently shaking and could feel his muscles clenching over and over.

“Tell me, Kenny. How does it feel?”

“It feels… Mmm, God!” He stuttered. He simply just couldn’t grasp the words he wanted to say. At this point it felt impossible for him.

He cried out as his hips began to rock again beneath AJ. He leaned forward hooked his arms under Kenny’s knees, pulling his legs up and over his shoulders. He began to pump in and out just as hard but not quite emptying out of Kenny to the same extent as before.

He was now moaning more and more. Pressing himself up against AJ’s body as much as he could with the position he had him in. “I- I wanna cum..” he begged.

“Not yet. Daddy wants to enjoy your sweet body just a little bit more.”

AJ was now fucking him more steadily but not as slowly as when he deep dicked him. He knew his cock was hitting Kenny’s prostate head on, and he was concentrating so hard to keep himself from cumming that he nearly couldn’t understand what Kenny was asking him to do.

“I can’t hold on much longer, daddy. I want you to fill me.. Please! Fill me up!”

This drove him over the edge. He didn’t care anymore.

AJ groaned as he placed a hand around Kenny’s throat, squeezing nice and tight but was also careful not to crush the airway. Kenny loved the euphoric feeling of it all. Being fucked with no remorse, used, spat on, choked– he fucking loved every minute of this and wasn’t ashamed to admit to it. It was his first experience like this with an older man and he never wanted it to end. He was screaming and begging and in the midst of it all he had no idea what was even coming out of his mouth anymore.

Kenny’s whole body was in another state of arousal and AJ could see his orgasm building up within him. He finally decided that he was ready too, so he released the grip from around his neck and allowed the younger man to breathe again. AJ was now pounding Kenny’s body hard onto his living room floor, and he was thankful that his house was more secluded as the neighbours would probably think some sort of crime was happening if any of them had heard what was going on.

“Fuuuuuuck!” Kenny screamed. AJ arched his back so he could fuck him deeper, his legs still draped over his shoulders as Kenny was clawing at anywhere on AJ that he could get his hands on. Contractions from his orgasm were now felt as his Kenny’s cock jerked. Long ropes of cum erupted from him, landing on his chest and even on his own face as he was grunting and crying out. His fingers were tangled in AJ’s hair and his legs wrapped around his waist. He made him cum completely hands free and Kenny couldn’t believe it.

With each spurt his ass clamped down even tighter than before, milking AJ effectively and he couldn’t hold himself together anymore. With one final thrust his own climax exploded forth, filling up Kenny deep inside as he possibly could and it felt amazing. AJ groaned out loud as Kenny thrust back out against him. They both wanted to ride out their orgasms as long as they could before it had to end.

Spent and overall exhausted, AJ pushed Kenny’s legs from his shoulders and fell over onto his chest, smearing his cum between them but neither really seemed cared about it. Kenny’s heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest against AJ’s as they were both slick with sweat and struggling to catch their breath. Neither of them said a word, and after a few minutes AJ slowly eased himself up and out of Kenny.

He quietly whimpered when he felt AJ’s member fall out of him. He pushed his legs back out again, exposing his well-fucked entrance once more and grinned as he saw the mess now leaking out. If he wasn’t so tired he would definitely love to pay for an overnight just to get a round two from the pure sight of that.

“You’re really quite proud of yourself, aren’t you?” Kenny groaned. AJ chuckled and reached over for the towels that he placed by the tv nearby. Yeah, of course he was prepared for this. He handed one over to Kenny first so he can get themselves cleaned up.

“Come on now, don’t ruin the moment for me,” he replied. Kenny laughed as handed the towel back to AJ.

“And also.. you broke character.“

Kenny inwardly rolled his eyes. He really had forgotten all about that. “Okay, okay.. I’ll let you have your moment. Daddy.”

“Much better,” He boasted. After a moment or so Kenny finally eased himself up and gathered enough energy to stand and dress himself again. His legs were pretty damn shaky. It really was too bad that AJ was now a paying customer. He would honestly love to do this again and get to know the man some more on a personal level but something along those lines were actually against the rules. If only he had met him on different circumstances. He had to confess, it was a really great time.

AJ just continued to lay there on the floor in his boxers for a few more moments before handing him the promised cash. Kenny gladly accepted the money as he placed a warm kiss on AJ’s lips, thanked him, then checked the time on his phone. His driver would be there any minute.

“Call me again, AJ. Anytime.”

p.s. If the format on this is messed up in some parts I do apologize. As some of you know I write my stories from my phone on the mobile app. But as always, thank you very much for taking the time to read if you’ve made it this far. Likes, comments, reblogs.. and especially constructive criticism is always welcomed! xx

[shamelesshottubtheorist]

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McCain's face features a good-natured smile and brown eyebrows. His hips have printing of a brown belt with a grey buckle, and his legs have a printing of pockets. Chase wears sunglasses and a ear-piece.Police UniformChase McCain's torso is light blue with printing of a dark grey vest and a badge, and on his right arm he has a printing of a police badge. Lego city undercover free play. He has slightly messy brick-yellow hair.BiographyEarly Life:Born on March 7, 1985, Chase M. Chase McCain's legs and hips are black.

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