#the other thing that has soured me on [city] is that the local scenes i was looking forward to

[genderfluid-dynamics]

on the one hand, yes all that, for common goods in particular i’d very much like to keep physical stores, but d) is wild to me for so many items

furniture, ok yeah, that’s true, but due to transportation costs it’s really not a big deal if they’re in worse locations like the typical outskirts / industrial area ikea, as long as you can still reach them with normal transit options

but i’m so used to everything i need being a “specialty” item that i can’t even imagine walking into a physical store and finding anything suitable to begin with. what’s it like to live in a world where they carry clothes that fit you at all, where the food is edible, where the electronics don’t have to be custom, where the medication is in stock, where the jewelry isn’t prohibitively priced, where the books are in the right language and of the kind you like to read, where the curiosities don’t violate basic ethics, where the bicycles can carry someone your size, where entering the store doesn’t give you sensory nightmares? i really wouldn’t know!

i don’t mean this as an invalidation of the other posters, i’m genuinely happy you find physical stores usable at all from time to time and i would also love to see a better housing market and walkable cities so we can have more niche businesses in close proximity, and i dread monopolies.

but the last year or two have really soured me on the benefits of large cities for me personally because almost all the time, physical stores literally do not carry goods i can use beyond basic household goods, and anything more than that i am completely dependent on specialized stores that can’t ever be viable as a physical location.

even living in one of the five largest cities of europe, i so rarely can find anything at all that i could use, never mind could afford or would actually want. i am deeply deeply grateful for the existence of online stores, robust delivery options and large businesses that can afford to carry niche products.

every time I hear someone say “we should just get rid of physical shops and have everything online” I get a bit angry because

a) physical shops are important for those who don’t have access to a computer/ internet/ ect

b) those “weird” and “niche” shops I love so much don’t have the same vibe online, they turn into just another website

c) I hate paying for shipping

[morbethgames]

Halloween Special, Current Projects, New Patreon Content

I am so sorry about the radio silence as of late. Between the stuff earlier this week (yes, that stuff), dealing with deaths of people, and university; I've been very busy and mentally drained. However, the good news is, you can play the mini game of The Bureau, "Witchy Woman" right now! The link is at the bottom of this post! Eventually I'll integrate it into the main game, or put it out as potential free DLC or something, but for now there are no stats and it's not tied to choices from the base game.

Tonight is a special case. The MCT has been called in as a favor after finishing up our most recent case. A friend of Kris's reached out, and the local P.D. has let the MCT take the lead on this one. A house party in the beginning of October up in Maine has turned sour. A party-goer has been reported deceased.

We just finished a job, but in this line of work, there's always another case to solve. So here I am, approaching the residence with my team, about to find out exactly what happened on this cold, damp night.

Because it's not part of a bigger game or story, and the only pacing I had to worry about was that of the investigation, this is much more freeflow than other investigations in the main story. Go back and forth between the crime scene, the perimeter of the house, interrogations, and more! The more you discover evidence, the more new options will unlock in conversations, and you have an evidence log in the stats section that updates every time you find out something relevant to the case.

I'm only promoting this now, even though it's been done for a couple of weeks, because it was part of a Jam and I didn't think it would be fair if I got votes from a community built over a few years when others in the Jam would not have had that same benefit. I wanted it to be an even playing field, even if it meant holding out for a bit. So, I apologize for making you all wait.

There are still things I'd like to do for this game, things I'll end up adding, but it is at the very least ready to play. It's 40k words, so have at it!

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

Right, next up, something I'd like to announce. I'm working on a serialized fiction that I'm (hopefully) planning to turn into a book. The first 3 chapters are going to be posted for free, both here on my blog and on my Patreon, though not quite yet. Chapters after that will be released on Patreon for the people who pay the $5 tier.

I'll be honest, it has been extremely cathartic to go from writing an IF where the chapters are all pretty much the length of a book themselves, to writing an actual book where a chapter is about 4k words. It's a very nice breath of fresh air, and it by no means, entails that I will stop working on Bureau. In fact, it may even help speed up rate of production, funnily enough. Having something to keep my mind turning while having writer's block about a scene in the IF will help me constantly generate ideas, and that's really nice to think about.

A small college town is rocked by a horrific murder. In wake of the events, a couple of friends begin investigating this personal tragedy, determined to get to the bottom of what happened at the Scribe City college. The lesson is quickly thrust upon them that loss leads to pain, but pain is temporary, and loss can be forever. So what comes after the pain? They need to explore that journey together, and in the process, navigate the complicated things feelings that have started to bloom.

The book (serialized fiction for now) , called Love In Stasis, is going to be a 'WLW romance small town college murder mystery'. You will explore the relationships that these characters have and continue to form, and just how messy things get when tragedy sparks love. I have almost 25k words done for it, about six and a half chapters, and I'm going to try to get 50k words done with it by the end of the month. A writing challenge that's totally not tied to the name of any organizations.

If this works out, I could reward patrons with static fiction while not having to worry about providing everyone with constant things tied to the IF itself, and I could work on The Bureau at a pace I'm very comfortable with.

I'm still learning as a writer. I'm still learning new things I like, and how I like to produce content. All I know is that I like producing art in the form of writing, and I most certainly will not stop doing that anytime soon, and now that the Halloween Special is done, I will be getting back to the base game.

Which will start with a complete recoding of the gender variables. I've already started on that process, so no more multiple versions of each chapter. One version. One set of gender variables. Much more condensed coding and script. So, people out there who said that wasn't going to change, I just have to say what I'd said all along. My coding was indeed bad. However I will also say something else I've said all along. I do take criticism.

That being said I'm never using multi-replace and you can't make me. I like being able to read what I'm writing.

More to come in the near future.

Stay Brilliant,

-Vi

https://cogdemos.ink/play/viisbae/the-bureau-halloween-special-witchy-woman

Patreon Link

[qnewsau]

Meet Brisbane's brightest queer breakout artist Hope D

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/meet-brisbanes-brightest-queer-breakout-artist-hope-d/

Meet Brisbane's brightest queer breakout artist Hope D

Hope D is one of Brisbane’s brightest queer music artists. She spoke to QNews about her music and mentoring, collaborating with The Veronicas, and making blue cheese gin.

Hope D is a vibrant queer singer-songwriter and musician hailing from Brisbane. 

At just 25, she has already made significant waves in the music scene since her debut single Swim dropped in 2019. 

Her unique blend of emotive storytelling and infectious melodies quickly garnered attention, culminating in her hit single Second, which impressively secured the no.69 spot on Triple J’s Hottest 100 in 2020. 

Hope’s talent has not gone unnoticed, as she was honoured with Queensland Music (QMusic) Awards in both 2020 and 2021, solidifying her place as a rising star in the local Brisbane music scene.

 Her discography includes the EP Cash Only (2021) and her debut studio album Clash of the Substance (2023), both of which reflect her growth and commitment to pushing her musical skills.

 We spoke to Hope D about her love for LGBTQIA+ culture and local music, along with her commitment to supporting emerging artists.

You have accomplished many achievements in your career. What is your personal favourite so far? 

It has to be the QMusic Award back in 2021. The second one I got, this time for ‘Best Rock’ song and I honestly wasn’t expecting it at all. It was just such a great night of celebration. To have that happen to me when I was not expecting it, it was just so incredible, and it really set me up to believe more in myself.

Being a mentor

You are a passionate supporter of local music and have taken part in the Brisbane City Council’s The QUBE Effect, can you tell us a bit about it and your involvement?

It was awesome. I believe I did it in 2019. I met such incredible mentors, and people that I still talk to today. We go to each other’s gigs and whatnot. It built me up a lot. The people that I met helped me in my career. Thanks to the mentorship I got to play Splendour in the Grass in the same year. The tent I played in was packed. It was incredible and it just came from The QUBE Effect. 

I fully recommend everyone do it. I now get to be a mentor for it. I just recently emceed this year’s awards night. It is so great to see the new local emerging acts coming out. We got to meet them all. I absolutely love the program and I think it’s incredible. 

What advice do you have for any new emerging artists who are looking to break into the music industry?

It is a very tough thing to do. It’s very cliche but just be yourself and be unapologetically and authentically yourself. Don’t go changing for anything or anyone, stay true to yourself and do it for the right reasons. That is some huge advice I’d say. Don’t have the goal of being a super big rockstar superstar kind of thing. 

Just do it because you love it. That’s definitely what I was doing. I was just doing it for myself and then all these things came from it. I find that if you focus on getting to no.1 on the charts or anything like that, then it can turn really sour. Just do it for the right reasons and you know as hard as it is just to keep going with it because you love it.

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Hope D (@hopedmusic)

Working with our musicians

In November you performed at the Undertone Festival, in the Gold Coast with Jack River, Montaigne, Tania Doko and more, putting a spotlight on female and non-binary artists. How did it feel being part of that line-up?

I was so excited. It’s such an incredible curation of artists and I couldn’t wait to meet and watch them all play. Also, I was really excited to perform because my band and I haven’t played since May this year.  Also, I love the Miami Marketta so much and I immersed myself in everything that the gig was about.

Your music bio states you are “Brisbane’s brightest queer breakout artist since The Veronicas.” Would you ever collaborate with them?

Absolutely! I grew up watching them and listening to their music. We were actually meant to do a gig with them, but it was cancelled due to Covid. I think it was meant to happen in the beginning of 2023 but anyway it got cancelled. We were so upset about it. We still think about it to this day. But yeah absolutely. It would be a huge full circle for me.

Queer life

What is LGBTQIA+ life like for you, do you immerse yourself in the culture? 

Yes, it’s amazing, I love it! I am a huge fan of LGBTQIA+ events. If I ever see anything on, I always make an effort to go to them.

Starting out my career I was advertised as a queer artist, so a lot of queer people came along to the gigs.

Then you meet a lot of fans that turn into friends, and it turned into this amazing community, like a family. It’s super beautiful, and they are so supportive. It never feels competitive. 

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Hope D (@hopedmusic)

 What does Hope D like doing outside of music?

I love to cook. I love to play around with alcohol infusions. I know that sounds wild.

I also work in a couple of bars in The Valley, and my algorithm on Instagram has been showing me like all these different flavours of gin and tequila you can make.

It sounds super rogue, but I’ve been making blue cheese gin to make dirty martinis. It’s good but it can be offensive and put me off for a while but it’s also interesting. I also love watching horror movies right now because of Halloween and I love going to see live music.

New music

 Do you have any upcoming projects you are working on?

I released a new song in November right before the festival gig which is awesome. There is a music video to go with it. After that, I will hopefully release a few more singles next year to be part of an upcoming EP. 

I recorded new music back in January in Perth with Andy Lawson so I’m just so excited to have these songs finally out. It’s been such a long slog of just getting caught up with work. I am really excited to put something new out.

 You can follow Hope D @hopedmusic on Instagram.

More local LGBTQIA+ musicians:

The Gold Coast queer musician taking on misogynistic “fans”

Gay country star receives five Golden Guitar nominations

Royston Noell shares coming out journey in new song Say it Loud

Meet the Brisbane queer band making waves: Worm Girlz

Pop artist Tom Nethersole shares powerful debut EP Hindsight

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[qyllenhaal]

God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

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

Word Count: 10.3k

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

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

Enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who was it?"

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

"Lee!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

"Is everything alright Sally?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lee what are you doing-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But what if you don't win?"

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

"What are you trying to say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What you doin' down there?"

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

"Did I scare you?"

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

"Where's my niece?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's going."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

This morning felt so different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

"My wife was here?"

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

"Yea yea just ring it up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I needed something from the store."

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

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

What a sweet little liar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

[callmeblake]

Kerrang Issue #1103 (Sources 1, 2)

Photo Credit: Jeremy Harris

Magazine Release Date: 2006

Issue Label: April 15th, 2006

Transcription below the cut  (translated by google from Spanish):

You're not in this alone

April 15, 2006

Kerrang April 15th, 2006

Lostprophets & My Chemical Romance 

When it comes to million dollar studios / mansions, Los Angeles, where My Chemical Romance is currently doing pre-production for their new - and as yet untitled - album, is very impressive. Built in 1920 for a silent film star, it is covered in such a way as to simulate an Asian palace, with panoramic views of the city, an outdoor swimming pool, acres of gardens, and - according to vocalist Gerard Way - a ghost that opens and closes doors and even takes baths. Gerard crawled out of bed at noon as his old friend, Ian Watkins is coming soon. He and the Lostprophets frontman will meet to discuss their future performances on 'Give It A Name' - a festival that will see them perform to 30,000 people in two days.

When Ian appears the two greet each other genuinely affectionate, talking about many things; from Gerard's art to Bono's sunglasses and, of course, the ghost guest Gerard admits to fear. The two singers are pleasant company, laughing, joking and obviously relaxed, interrupting and finishing each other's sentences as close friends usually do.

When did you meet?

Gerard: It was at the Slims, in San Francisco and Lostprophets was running a show with Head Automatica. I didn't know them, so I got on his bus and he was the coolest singer I've ever met.

Haven't you met singers before, back then?

Gerard:I had met a few, but singers are usually weird guys. They often have a 'lead singer vibe' and he didn't have one, he was so kind, respectful and personable.

Ian: We knew his manager because he had toured with bands that we had toured with. Even before the first My Chemical Romance album came out, he was already talking all day about them. He sent me the record when it came out and I used to listen to it all the time, it was fucking awesome. Did they get along immediately? Gerard: Yeah. I think everyone in both bands hit it off right away. They were down to earth guys. We hadn't met anyone as great as them, so it was a huge impression on our band that they had that attitude. Ian:

And after that, we keep crashing at events, anywhere, like in Japan….

Gerard: That is a very funny story! You have to fly everywhere when you play (at the Japanese festival) Summer Sonic; you can't drive because Japan is made of a lot of big islands. This was when he still used to get screwed. It was one of the last times that I was drunk or high, actually… Ian was in front of me on the plane and he was turning around to try to have a conversation with me, but he couldn't.

Ian: I hadn't realized it at first. I was talking about the songs on the album I was thinking about…

Gerard:… And at one point I just thought 'I can't deal with this man'. I felt really bad about that I had already thrown up more than I had ever seen in my damn life while trying to get my pills; we were sharing a bus on the way to the plane. I must have looked like the most broke asshole. I was ashamed all the way.

How often do you get together?

Gerard: I would say once every five months, maybe more often. We always collide.

Ian: Yes, when you go on tours you always bump into someone. The strangest thing was when I was in New York, having a snack ...

Gerard:Oh yeah! And we just meet! We were on our way to a place called 'Toy Tokyo', which is one of our favorite stores. We passed a restaurant and Ian was sitting there hanging out.

Ian: They came by and I was like 'Oh shit!' because it was so unexpected.

Gerard: And then we did a full US tour together and it was fun, but Lostprophets was still on the UK schedule, so they would fall asleep on the bus at odd hours and stay up all night.

Ian: That was before the My Chemical Romance record took off, so it was before they became rock stars! But it was cool because we did our own shows on off days.

Gerard:Yes, it was fun doing our shows together, because there was always the same vibe.

Do you keep in touch when you are not on tour?

Gerard: Yes, Sidekick! (controlled email senders)

Ian: You're never in yours! He used to be online all day, but now he's very cool for it.

Gerard: I think I changed my username, but I didn't tell anyone, I just hoped they would notice! So no one talks to me now!

They grew up in places as remote as New Jersey and Wales, what common areas do they share?

Ian: I think we are both working class.

Gerard:When you come from a working class place, you have to leave soon or you will be stuck there forever. Jersey is definitely that kind of place. It's very different if you live somewhere in Los Angeles…

Ian: You don't need to try here, you can go to clubs and gigs every day in LA. It is very easy to believe that you are someone in LA until you realize that there is a whole world outside. It's like the same as London and New York.

Gerard: Yes, but to come from the places that we come from; Where you have shitty jobs, you realize that you are nobody.

Ian: And if you want to do something, make a difference or at least enjoy life, you really have to work your ass off.

Gerard:What's the most shitty job you had in Wales?

Ian: I worked in Iceland. A frozen food store.

Gerard: Oh wow that's weird because my first shitty job was at a frozen food stand at a supermarket. They're both sober now, but Gerard wasn't when they first met: Did his using drugs and alcohol affect their friendship? Gerard: No Ian: I just didn't realize I had a problem! Gerard: Yes, apart from that plane trip. But even though he had a problem, I think the press made him look worse than he already was. When we did that tour together, I was already clean.

The two are working on new albums. Has either listened to each other's new songs?

Gerard: No. We haven't played anything for anyone.

People are predicting that they will both transcend the rock scene and come back with a more pop album this time. Is there any truth to that?

Gerard: I think that's what they expect us to do! On the other hand, some people may believe that our album will be more aggressive to compensate for that.

Ian: A lot of bands do that and screw themselves up. They succeed and say 'we have to prove that we are real' and confuse being real with being shit.

Gerard:That is completely true. So people might expect a more aggressive record from us, or maybe one that makes a lot less sense. But I wouldn't say it's more pop, although it's prettier.

Did you see a lot of bands growing up?

Gerard: Yes, because our only escape was to go and find the local show. There were two places that I would go, ' The Pipeline ' and ' Studio One '. The latter was completely hardcore, bands like Downset, Madball, Dog eat dog…

Ian: Dog Eat Dog! Dammit!

Gerard:The most taboo thing there was as a teenager was Slayer. The [Anti-obscenity lobby] PMRC was so big in the US that they made it almost impossible to get their records. They thought Slayer was satanic. You couldn't get WASP or Venom records, but Slayer was a sure door to evil! I remember when I got 'South of Heaven'; it made a big impression on me. Have you been in front of any other band performance? Gerard: Not in the mosh zone, but I was on the floor for Slim's once. Most of the time, I watch from the side of the stage. Ian:

Everything is ground at Slim's! That was a great show, because we met there. As I said; We got to know each other before these guys took off, and that's nice because I think meeting them after that would have been kind of weird.

So is it weird to meet bands that are already big?

Ian: Yes, because they don't care. As Gerard was saying, singers sometimes have attitudes and it is strange to meet a successful band that is still humble. I don't think My Chemical Romance would have been like that but bands get very reluctant when meeting people. They think 'you only want to be my friend because you want something.' It was great meeting Gerard before they grew up, because I know our friendship is honest.

Do things change when you get to the same level as other bands?

Ian: If we played in the US now, My Chemical Romance would top the list, whereas last time we were on them, but that's okay.

Gerard: Yes, when you go out with a band that you love, there is respect and it shows on stage. But if you play with a band that you don't respect, then you go out and destroy them.

Ian: And it's not like we release two albums at the same time. We left and their time came.

So what if both albums were out at the same time? Would they be aware of the other's sales position?

Gerard: Well we're both rock bands, but we offer something very different to people, so I don't feel in competition with these guys.

Ian:If they were assholes it would be horrible to see them get so successful, because it sucks to see idiots doing well. The only thing they do is add to your stupidity! But when you like band music it's always great to see that they do well.

Gerard: Yes, you will always be supporting your friends even if they are kicking your ass!

Ian: And if they're kicking your butt, it just makes you work harder- It's not a sour rivalry, it's a great thing -a friendship and respect.

My Favorite My Chemical Romance Song (by Ian Watkins)

I love 'You know what they do to guys like us in prison'. The first time I listened to their second album, that song grabbed me as soon as it started playing. It had some really cool changes; the way it starts off with a piano staccato, and the lyrics are fantastic. It conjured up a lot of images and I liked the fact that the verse is on the piano.

My Favorite Lostprophets Song (by Gerard Way)

It's easily 'Last Train Home'! When we were working on Three Cheers for sweet revenge, that damn video came out every five minutes and no one could help but sing it. We were saying 'Man, this is great!' I think the chorus is really beautiful. They weren't trying to capitalize on some kind of junk-young culture, the song really meant something, especially when they were playing it live. If someone is really honest with a song, it will always become a favorite song, and that one really stood out.

Translation: Liz

[jamaisjoons]

suncity | jhs

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 when you’d taken a spontaneous trip to Barcelona, you hadn’t expected to meet hoseok. more than that, you hadn’t expected to begin a torrid affair with him. 〞stranges to lovers au. vacation au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: hoseok x reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 17k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: grinding in public (just dancing), kissing, nipple play, fingering, dom!Hoseok, sub!Reader, dirty talk, praise, degradation, cum eating, cum swapping? penetration, creampie, public sex, blowjob, cum swallowing, sacrilege, exhibitionism, the slightest daddy kink (literally used twice,,, for sacrilegious purposes), rough sex, cunningulus, sweet lowkey sad sex, sex on a boat // there are three different smut scenes

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: hello!! here is the third instalment of the mixtape series! I had quite a bit of fun with this au and I just,,,, fell in love with jung hoseok all over again and I hope you do too! thank you to my beta reader @slashgashbridesmaid for being wonderful and editing this for me!

⇥ part of the mixtape series

Stepping out of the air-conditioned airport, you take in a deep breath, the humidity mixed with the heat already seeping into your pores, sweat forming around your temples. The sun blazes overhead, the sky completely cloudless and streets bustling with both traffic and people. You have no idea if it is the bright weather, the stunning vintage architecture, or just a placebo effect, but everything about Barcelona feels completely different from Seoul. Which, of course, it is, but it’s almost as if the air itself is different. It feels electric; livelier.

You take another deep breath, relishing in the complete change of pace. Barcelona. You’re really in Barcelona. You hadn’t really planned this. In fact, this was probably the most impulsive decision you had made in a very long time, but recently, you’d just had enough of the same routine, fast-paced life in Seoul and you had desperately needed a change of pace lest you finally lose your mind. Thus, you had hopped in the first cab you could hail, ridden straight to Incheon Airport, and grabbed the first flight with a seat open to the sunniest available destination, which just happened to be Barcelona.

Grabbing the handle of your small roller suitcase, you begin walking down the streets, more lost than you had been in, well, years. You’d gotten so used to expertly navigating the streets of Seoul that the sudden displacement and unfamiliarity of Barcelona sent a rush of exhilaration down your spine. Aimlessly wandering down the streets, you can’t help but be in awe of the sights. Everything is vibrant, pulsating with life and music, from the bright vivid colours of various flags, shops and people to the low thrumming of different songs blending together in an intoxicating amalgamation of rhythms.

You find yourself inexplicably drawn down a random street, a rhythmic Spanish beat getting louder and louder. Almost as if it called out to you, you find yourself being drawn to it, like a sailor to a siren’s song. Stopping short, you spot a large group of people gathered around a huge circle painted on the floor. There’s a band playing their instruments and a man singing in Spanish as people bustle around, some even dancing. Stall vendors occupy the outskirts, smiling and singing along to the music as tourists and locals sit around.

“Miss? Free Sangria?” a woman asks, popping out of nowhere. Her voice is thick with her accent and her eyes kind. Your eyes widen slightly before you graciously accept the small cup of red wine and chopped fruit. Somewhere in the back of your mind, your consciousness screams at you to not accept random drinks from strangers, but you’re already losing yourself in the free spirit of Barcelona.

“Sorry, do you know where I am?” you ask, trying your best to communicate. The woman looks at you apologetically, replying in Spanish before wandering off back to her stall. You let out a sigh, looking around and wondering if you could find someone that could guide you to a nearby hotel or something. Perhaps wandering down the streets of an unfamiliar location was a bad idea. Exhaling heavily, you take a sip of your drink, eyes widening at the pleasant taste. You’d always hated red wine, finding the acidic taste too sour and tart. However, mixed with the chopped fruit, orange juice, and lemonade, the taste more than appealing.

Continuously sipping your drink, you walk further into the crowd, the sensual beat of the music only getting louder. Breaking further into the throng of people, you stop. You’re close enough to the band that the sultry cadence of the instruments vibrates through your bones. You’re pleasantly surprised by the man dancing in front of the band, muscles moving to the beat. It’s as if he were music himself; as if the bassline of Spanish melody coursed through his veins. Each sensuous movement of his limbs was completely in tune with the undercurrent of the music. The most surprising thing, however, was that unlike the rest of the people dancing he wasn’t Spanish, yet, he moved with just as much intensity. You couldn’t help but notice that he was also definitely better than the natives.

Your eyes stay focused on him, unable to look away. The way he moves is intoxicating, and you simply can’t find it in yourself to pull your gaze away. More than that, you just don’t want to. Watching him dance is almost like watching the waves of the sea: each movement flows like water. His moves glide into the next with relative ease, completely in tune to the undercurrent of the melody. His hips swivel sensually, rocking to the rhythm as his thighs ripple in light-wash ripped jeans. The song slowly fades to the end, the guitarist playing the final few chords.

Sounds of cheering fill the air. The dancing man turns around and bows deeply. Then, he catches your eye, and you can’t help but gasp. He’s beautiful, with caramel skin that glows and brown eyes that lighten to a dark shade of honey due to the sunlight. He’s got the largest heart-shaped smile, and you may be in the sunniest city of Barcelona, but you can’t help thinking that his smile could rival the sun. He’s slightly out of breath, and sweat drips down the outline of his face, seeping into his slightly sweat-soaked hair.

He gazes at you with idle curiosity. You have no idea how long you stare at each other but the strumming of guitar strings has him breaking away. He slides towards you, a swivel in his hips, and before you know it, he’s grabbing you by the hand, empty Sangria glass dropping before he drags you into the throng of dancing bodies.

You don’t know why you allow him to pull you along. Perhaps it’s the alluring Spanish rhythm or maybe the glass of Sangria you’ve consumed on an empty stomach, or maybe, just maybe, it’s the way his eyes inexplicably glint in the sunlight, but either way, you allow him to pull you onto the makeshift dance floor. The movement of his hands lifting towards you catches your eyes, and with a surprised gasp, you feel his hands rest on your hips. He pulls you close enough to him that he’s able to slide his leg between your thighs.

You stare up at him through the thick of your eyelashes; his breath fans your face and you can almost taste him. He tastes like Sangria and sugar. When the beat picks up, you feel his hands on your hips tighten and then he’s swirling you both in one deep circle. Your breath hitches, eyes flicking to the thigh between yours, caramel skin peeking through his jeans. Again, he rolls both your hips, deeper this time: your ass brushing closer to his crotch.

You feel something deep within you telling you to give in and let him guide your hips. It’s hard to resist, and so you find yourself throwing caution to the wind. His lips quirk up into a smirk, his eyes darkening marginally. You feel your heart speed up, hammering in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins. When the song deepens into a more sensuous rhythm, he spins you around before pulling you back. His hips are pressed into your ass, knees against the back of yours. You let out a breathy exhale, his hips rolling once again.

One of the hands currently placed on your hips moves, sliding across your stomach until it wraps around your waist. He pulls you closer, hand guiding your hips against him. You aid his movements, rolling your hips and grinding against him of your own volition. When his nose runs along the column of your neck, you let out a moan despite yourself, heat already beginning to pool in your stomach. It shouldn’t be turning you on. You’re in a foreign country, grinding on a man whose name you don’t even know. It definitelyshould not be turning you on, yet, the way he rolls his body against yours, his groin twisting into yours, leaves you even more breathless than your movements.

A particularly deep pivot of his hips, paired with you grinding lower, your crotch brushing against his thigh, has you throwing your head back into his shoulder. He lifts his head up, lips brushing against the outer shell of your ear. Hazily, you recognise that he’s singing. Your ears strain, core dripping when you hear the dulcet sound of his voice echo in your ear. His voice is soft, and he sings with such a smooth accent that you’d think he was a native. Spanish was already such a sensual, romantic language, yet, with the way he’s singing, you can’t help but think it sounds even more erotic, his voice dripping with sex.

You can’t think straight, the heady scent of his sweat-soaked skin and the low rumbling of his singing against your ear leaving you spellbound. You can’t bring yourself to pull away from him, even when the hand on your hip moves slightly under your top, even when his lips brush against your collarbone. However, you don’t want to pull away, so instead, you roll your head to the side, giving him more access.

Lust clouds your every movement. Your arms twist backwards, wrapping around his neck as your movements become more exaggerated. He chuckles in your ear, and you find yourself gasping at the sound. It’s light and practically twinkles in your eardrum, completely different from the sultry atmosphere, but it only draws you deeper into him, your body rolling both with and against his. Vageuly, you hear the song slowly begin to fade as it comes to an end. Your hips move slower, now more sensuous than needy, until the beat finally hums to a stop.

His arm tightens around you, fingers flexing and digging into your hip, just under your top. You both pant, heat flushing and prickling against your skin. Slowly, your eyes flutter open; you don’t even remember at which point they shut. You can feel his breath, hot and heavy against your ear. The haze in your mind slowly clears, and the cheering of the people around you fills your ears once again. Immediately, the man is twirling you until you’re facing him. His eyes are dark, lust swimming in his coffee irises. Then tension between you both is so palpable, it practically suffocates you. Your eyes flick to his lips; they’re pink and luscious, a small mole on the left of his top lip drawing your attention.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he asked, his voice strained with lust.

You should say no. You don’t even know his name. He’s a complete stranger in a foreign country.

“Yes.”

Your decision is completely impulsive, the word tumbling out of your mouth before you can even think about it. Then, he grabs your hand, snatching your suitcase before pulling you along the streets of Barcelona.

He pushes you against the hotel room door, lips feverish against yours. Your suitcase lies forgotten, his hands digging into your hair and pulling you into him. You moan when his tongue brushes against the seam of your lips. Without hesitation, you part your lips, letting his tongue slide into your mouth. Your own hands desperately wander over his chest before they fist in his collar. He pulls away, and you can hear the rustle of fabric as you urgently press your mouth towards the column of his neck.

Your teeth scrape against his neck, causing him to hiss. You hear the swipe of his keycard as he attempts to open his hotel door, hands shaky with lust. Moments later, he finally succeeds. The door pushes behind you, and the only reason you don’t tumble back is due to his strong arms wrapping around you as he draws you in for another kiss. You groan against him, letting him push you inside as he kicks your suitcase into his room before shutting the door.

Long, slender fingers fervently divest you of your top before expertly unclasping your bra. You gasp out as the cool air of his air-conditioned hotel room hits your skin, nipples hardening to stiff peaks. He immediately bends down, taking a nipple in his mouth before a gentle bite causes you to cry out in pleasure. You feel him smirk against your breast, tongue swirling around as he lightly sucks. Your hands begin vigorously unbuttoning his shirt before impatiently sliding it off of his shoulders. He twists his arms, slipping his shirt off of them and leaving both of your top halves naked.

He stands back up, his lips barely brushing against yours before he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. He pushes you backwards, and you fall onto the bed with a slight bounce as he crawls on top of you. You lean up, hands twisting into his thick, dark locks as you pull him closer to you, kissing him passionately once again. His hand slides down your body, your back arching when he brushes against a nipple before he’s thrusting his hand down your jeans, completely bypassing your panties.

Long, expert fingers brush against your clit, and you break your kiss, crying out against his lips. Your pussy is unbelievably hot, stifled in the material of your panties and jeans. He brushes his fingers against your clit again, lips trailing down your jaw. Deft fingers part your lips before he plunges a single digit into you, simultaneously biting the supple skin of your throat particularly harshly. Instantly, his actions have you crying out, your cunt walls gripping around his finger at the mixture of both pain and pleasure.

“Please-” you gasp out. You want to cry out his name, but you have no idea what it is.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he asks, chuckling against the skin of your neck. Despite his words, however, he sinks a second finger into you. You hiss, biting your lip. He doesn’t have enough room to move around due to your jeans, so instead, he pulls his fingers out. You whine, hips chasing his hand as you buck into the air. He grins at you before suckling his fingers, licking your arousal clean off of them.

“More,” you whine, wanting his fingers back against you. He kisses down your body until he comes to the waistband of your jeans. His fingers make quick work of your button and zipper before he pulls both your jeans and panties down your legs. You help him kick them off, and then he’s parting your legs. He groans, eyes feasting on your pussy. The heady scent of your sex is heavy in the air, and you blush, attempting to close your legs.

“Don’t” is all he says as he parts your thighs once more. He leans into the space between your thighs, pressing a soft kiss against your clit. You cry out, your hip thrusting into his face as your cunt flutters, releasing another gush of wetness. He pushes his soft lips against your clit, tongue flicking out and licking the little hardened nub as he sinks his finger back into you. You cry out once again, hands automatically moving to play with your breasts.

Messily, he eats out your cunt, tongue lashing against your clit as he plunges his finger in and out of your clenching walls. He draws out feverish, breathless moans from you as he pushes a second finger into you, scissoring your walls. There’s a slight pain to the stretch, but you’re too lost in the sensation of his lips around your clit. He gently bites your clit, sucking harshly as his fingers piston into you, and, all of a sudden, you’re crying out.

“Are you cumming?” he asks, and you can’t find it in yourself to string together a cohesive thought, so instead, you just moan louder. “Cum then.” He chuckles. The vibration of his words has your orgasm ricocheting through you, thighs shivering on either side of his head.

“Good. That’s my good little slut. Cum for me. Cum on fingers,” he goads, drawing out your orgasm. Your walls clench tightly, forcing his fingers out of you. He lets out a little groan, instead his lips moving down to your cunt as he laps at your cum. When the trembling of your thighs calms down to erratic spasms, he finally leaves your cunt. Crawling back over you, he leans on top of you before he draws your lips into his for a kiss. You moan against him, licking his lips. He slides his tongue into your mouth, your tongues curling against each other as you taste yourself. You’re thick on his tongue, your cum carrying across his mouth and into yours.

When he pulls away, a narrow string of your saliva and arousal clings between your lips until it breaks away, dripping down your chin. Your tongue flicks out, swiping at it before you swallow. He groans on top of you, pushing his damp locks out of his eyes and behind his head. Your core immediately tightens. He’d looked beautiful with his bangs down, but with them out of the way and his forehead exposed? He was a completely different human being. He was practically god-like.

“Want you,” you mewl out, still not knowing his name. His jaw twitches and you watch as nimble fingers unbutton the trousers of his jeans. He pushes both his trousers and boxers down his thighs, not bothering to take them off. His cock releases with a slight bounce before standing to attention. Your mouth immediately goes dry and you watch as he fists his length. He’s deliciously long and so incredibly veiny: the perfect cock to ride. Precum drips out of the slit on his cockhead, and he’s immediately scooting closer to you, hips pressed between your thighs till you feel the heat of his dick brush against your hot cunt.

You cry out at the sensation, feeling him rub his cock through your folds. Finding your cunt, he presses his cock in slowly, inch by inch, sinking into you and opening you out. You let out a heavy groan, feeling him slowly opening your walls until he finally bottoms out with a hiss. You feel the rough denim of his jeans scrape against your sensitive inner thighs as he draws out of you before thrusting back in.

He falls over you, his arms caging you as they strain on either side of your head. You can spot the slight twitches of his biceps as he sensually rolls his hips into yours. It’s completely unfair. You were used to stilted movements and plain thrusts, but the way his hips grind into you has you feeling a different level of ecstasy. Each of his movements is calculated and flows into the next. The way his hips undulate has his cock gliding into you at different angles, hitting your depths differently with each thrust and slowly driving you wild.

“More- faster,” you groan out, your hands shooting out and gripping into his shoulder. He hisses on top of you, lowering his body until his chest is pressed against yours, the speed of his thrusts increasing. The change in position lets him hit deeper, and you groan every time he bottoms out; his hips continue swivelling sensually, the tip of his cock brushing against the sensitive spot inside you over and over again.

Your hands slide down his back, nails scraping against his skin and leaving angry, red welts in their wake. The pain has him grunting, his hips rocking harder into you. You feel your orgasm slowly begin to build up, the brushing of his cockhead against your g-spot causing your eyes to roll into the back of your skull. He shifts on top of you, one of his hands moving to rub your clit, the other hand straining under all his weight. He can feel his own end near, his cock pulsing inside you.

“Cum again. Cum on my cock,” he commands, thumb repeatedly flicking against your clit. You keen under his actions and dig your fingernails into his flesh harder, almost breaking the skin as your second orgasm washes over you. You cry out loudly, voice cracking. He lets out a deeper grunt, the movement of his hips turning stilted as he fucks into you. The rippling of your cunt walls around him, paired with the gush of your cum has him impaling his cock into you as hard as he could, burying into you deeply.

His hand leaves your clit, fisting in the sheets by your head as he practically collapses on top of you. You feel him spurt rope after rope of his cum into you, coating your walls white. He stays buried in you moments longer, both of you panting as you try to catch your breaths. Finally, when he struggles to hold his weight on top of you, he slowly pulls out his cock, rolling over and flopping onto the bed beside you. You feel his cum slowly leak out of you, moaning before shutting your thighs, your muscles protesting the movement.

“I’m-” he begins before gasping for air, “Hoseok by the way,” he finishes, introducing himself. You want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. He had justfucked you senseless and was just nowintroducing himself? You want to reply with something witty, but your brain refuses to put together a single coherent sentence, so, instead, you keep it simple.

“I’m ____.”

The next morning, your eyes flutter open. Thick streams of sunlight burst through the lace curtains of the hotel room, and with an annoyed groan, you roll over, burying your face into the pillow. A small chuckle rings through your ears, causing your face to scrunch into the pillow. Sitting up in bed, you look around, eyes stopping short at the man you’d both danced with and fucked yesterday. He’s seated casually on the sofa facing the bed, cross-legged and watching you with an amused grin. You blush under his gaze, drawing the sheets further to your chest.

“I was wondering when you’d wake up, but I figured the jet lag would have caught up to you,” Hoseok chuckles, smiling at you. You bite your lips, the dimples on the top of his lips indenting. Your heart speeds up slightly. How had you not noticed them before?

“Sorry, you should have woken me up and kicked me out,” you reply, voice groggy from sleep.

“I could have, but I didn’t want to. Do you want to join me for breakfast?” Hoseok asks. You chew your lip as you contemplate the decision. Shouldyou have breakfast with a complete stranger in his hotel room while in a foreign country? Probably not. Then again, you can’t help musing, you’d already fucked him. Besides, you’d spent the night with him, and he hadn’t murdered you; so that was a good sign, right? Hoseok quirks his eyebrow, gaze levelled at you as he awaits your decision. The sound of your stomach growling has you nodding your assent.

“Perfect. I was thinking we could have breakfast out on the balcony. There’s a stunning view of Barcelona. I’ll let you get ready. The bathroom is just through that door. Here,” Hoseok says. He throws you the shirt he wore last night before walking through the large door and out onto the balcony. You slip his shirt on, buttoning it up before walking towards your suitcase. Hastily, you pull out a pair of fresh panties along with your toiletries before entering the bathroom.

Once you were done freshening up, you pad onto the balcony. Your toes curl at the cold marble against your feet. The sun isn’t out like it had been yesterday, but the day was still incredibly bright, the sky vividly azure and obstructed by just a few clouds. Hoseok sits casually, facing the Spanish horizon, the quaint city of Barcelona just below him. The scene is almost picture-perfect, the mix of Catalan Gothic architecture, large steeples and towers from the various cathedrals, paired with the more modern buildings only adding to the charm.

You clear your throat, feet shifting as you announce your presence. Hoseok turns around with a soft smile on his face, and you can’t help the way your breath hitches. He’s dressed casually in a white linen shirt and denim shorts, his hair falling onto his forehead. He’s beautiful. In fact, he’s probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. He gestures towards the seat opposite him, his eyes trailing over your figure, dressed in nothing but his shirt and your panties. Suddenly, you feel nervous. Maybe you should have gotten dressed? You pad over to him, smiling timidly as you take a seat.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I just got a bit of everything,” Hoseok informs, gesturing towards the mix of cut fruit, Spanish hams, eggs, and various pieces of bread. Your stomach growls once again, making him chuckle as you help yourself.

“I couldn’t help but notice your luggage tag. You flew in from Seoul?” Hoseok asks, mouth slightly muffled by food. You finish chewing the morsel in your mouth and swallow before replying.

“Yeah, I live there.”

“Wow, small world. I live there too. Why are you here?” He asks curiously before popping some chorizo is his mouth.

“I guess I just got bored with everyday life? Things were just becoming… boring. And I hadn’t travelled in years, so, I went to Incheon, booked the first available flight, which just happened to be to Barcelona, and, well, here I am. For about a week. How about you?” you ask, wondering what his story was.

“I was here on business. I own a company, and some of my clients are Spanish,” Hoseok says. Your eyebrows knit together, looking at him oddly.

“And that business entailed dancing on the street or…?” you tease. Hoseok clicks his tongue at you, sipping his orange juice.

“CEOs have hobbies too! Also, I said I wason business, but that ended a few days ago. Now, I’m on vacation for two weeks,” he continues, looking at you pointedly. You find yourself laughing, somehow feeling completely at ease with him despite knowing him less than a day.

“You seem to know your way through Barcelona well. Do you come here often?” you ask curiously, remembering how easily he’d navigated you from the plaza and towards his hotel.

“Mhm. Maybe once every three months? My Spanish clients are very important, and they like meeting in person. This is my permanent hotel room,” Hoseok says, throwing his arms out and gesturing towards the room. Your eyes bug out of your skull.

“Permanent?”

“Yeah. I own this hotel, and, since I need to be here every few months, it made sense to have a permanent residence,” Hoseok says. His tone is completely casual, but you have no idea how to point out that that isn’t a normaleveryday thing.

“If you want, you can stay with me. I could show you around,” Hoseok offers, and you feel your eyebrows shoot straight into your hairline.

“Oh- Oh no! I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that,” you try to refuse. As lovely as that sounded, you didn’t want to impose on his holiday.

“Oh come on! I know my way around pretty well, and you’ll need a guide considering you came here with no plan. It’ll be fun. What do you say?” Hoseok suggests. You shut your mouth, brain whirring. He made some valid points. You were completely lost in Barcelona with no money considering you hadn’t bothered to convert your currency. Plus, he seemed nice enough from what you knew, andyou enjoyed spending time with him.

“Alright. I’ll take you up on that offer,” you finally agree. Hoseok smiles at you brightly, pretty teeth on display. You swallow thickly, wondering if his smile was always as dazzlingly beautiful as it currently was.

“Perfect. Do you have a hotel room? If not, I can book you a room here, unless you want to stay with me?” Hoseok asks, eyes flicking briefly towards your chest peeking through his shirt. Your core clenches at the suggestion in his tone. Your mind reels back to the previous night, and just the memory of your orgasm has your toes curling. You make your second impulsive decision then and there.

“I’d like that.”

It’s not as if you have anything to lose.

Hours later, you find yourself being pulled by Hoseok into Barcelona Cathedral. You stop short once inside, in awe of the beautiful interior. Candles illuminate the area, sunlight streaming through large arched windows. The ceiling is incredibly high, gargoyles of varying creatures, from animals to mythical beings, decorating the roofing. The pillars are simple, made up of alternating bricks: stones that are greying, blackened, and smudged. You wonder what it would have looked like when it was first built and brand new. The interior is truly beautiful, and you can almost feel the history seeping out of each and every slab of stone, depicting events that people have forgotten but time has not.

Hoseok smiles at you, gripping your hand and walking further into the building. You gasp as you draw nearer towards the altar. The walls around the seating are ornately designed, intricate patterns of gold glittering in the amber light. There are quite a few people milling about, some kneeling and praying while others quietly walk around, taking in the sights like you were. As beautiful as it is, this was arguably notwhat you had in mind when you’d asked Hoseok to show you a side of Barcelona no tourist guide could ever show you; something you express to him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be getting to that,” Hoseok whispers against your ears. His words are ominous, his voice lower than usual, vibrating through your ears and causing heat to pool in your belly. Your face flushes in mortification. You could notget horny in a church. There was far too much wrong with that.

Still holding onto your hand, Hoseok drags you further into the church. Your eyes flick to your entwined hands, your fingers locked together. His palms are small, but his fingers long and slender, yet are the perfect size in your own hand. It’s a small gesture, and Hoseok probably doesn’t even think about it, but you can’t stop thinking about how his hand feels. You shake your head slightly, trying to clear your mind. You had just met.

“So, what about this is something a normal tour guide couldn’t show me?” you ask, wanting to prevent your mind from straying into dangerous territory.

“This,” Hoseok says, stopping in front of an empty confessional booth. You look at him closely, peering through the holes within the baroquely carved wood. It’s too dark inside, however, and you can’t see a single thing.

“A confession boo-” you say, but before you can finish your words, Hoseok is dragging you inside.

“Hoseok!” you cry out, Hoseok immediately shushing you. He pushes you against the door, his nose running along the column of your throat before his hand slides down your stomach, rubbing just above the waistband of your skirt.

“This is what’s different. No tour guide would fuck you in a confession booth,” Hoseok whispers in your ear. Your pussy gushes into your panties, your breathing becoming laboured.

“Do you want that sweetheart? Do you want me to fuck you here?” Hoseok asks. You whine, pushing your ass against him. Hoseok chuckles before pushing your skirt up to your hips and sliding your panties to the side. His fingers swipe across your slit, leaving them dewy with your arousal. He pulls his fingers up to his lips, licking off your slick.

“You’re already so wet, sweetheart. I bet I could just slide into you,” Hoseok whispers, thumb brushing against your clit over and over again. You groan, pussy clamping and releasing another gush of wetness.

“Please.”

Hoseok groans at the want in your voice. He quickly moves his hand towards his shorts and unbuttons them. His hands move feverishly, pushing his trousers down to his thighs before gripping his cock and running it through your folds. You let out a high pitched whine, wanting his cock buried into you.

“Quiet. We don’t want people to catch you being a little slut for me,” Hoseok orders, and with that, he slides into you in one motion. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth before biting hard, trying to suppress your scream. Leaning your head against the door to the confession booth, you twist one hand back to rest on his torso, stilling his movement.

“Just- give me some time,” you sputter. The lack of preparation had you hissing in pain, taking in a deep breath as you tried to get used to him inside you. Hoseok brushes his lips against your shoulder blade, shushing you. You both stay still for a few long moments before you finally give Hoseok the go-ahead.

“Good girl,” are his only words before he pulls out, and then he’s slamming into you once again. The force of his thrust has you hurtling into the door with a slight bang causing it to vibrate.

“Hold yourself. I’m gonna fuck this dirty pussy real good, and I want you to be quiet,” Hoseok hisses, cock plunging into your depths again. You quietly whimper, Hoseok pinching your clit as punishment.

“I said quiet.”

You nod, taking in a shuddering breath. Hoseok’s hips lunge forward once again, and this time you manage to keep quiet, earning you a kiss on your shoulder. His soft attention has you keening. Then he’s back to setting his brutal pace, fucking his cock into you over and over again. His rough movement has you struggling to keep quiet, wanting nothing more than to scream out in ecstasy. People wander closer to the booth, and you’re able to peak at them through the small, carved out gaps of the door. Your stomach flips in fear, and your pussy gushes at the thrill. You could be caught with Hoseok’s cock buried deep within your cunt any moment.

“Fuck, do you like that? Do you like watching people pray while you get this pretty little cunt stuffed?” Hoseok whispers into your ear, his words causing your pussy to clench involuntarily.

“Yes. Shit, you do. You’re such a dirty little slut. I think you need to confess your sins,” Hoseok continues, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull when he hits particularly deep. All of a sudden, Hoseok swats your ass, and you have to bite your lip even harder to prevent yourself from moaning out loud.

“I said tell daddy your sins.”

“I’m sorry daddy; I’ve been so bad.”

“How?” Hoseok asks, plunging in deeper, one hand moving to play with your clit as he bites your earlobe.

“I’m being a dirty slut.”

“Keep going.”

“I’m getting my pussy fucked deep while people are outside praying. I’m being a dirty little slut by letting you pound my little cunt when people are around us. Hoseok-” you whine lowly, pushing your hips out. You can feel your skin begin to prickle with the heat of your orgasm, Hoseok’s fingers strumming your clit only driving you closer to the edge. How were you supposed to keep quiet when you came? Almost as if your prayers were being answered, you hear the loud baritone sound of the organ. High pitched voices of the choir members join the loud melody, your ears almost deafened by the sound. Hoseok smirks into the back of your head.

“Are you cumming sweetheart? Are you gonna be a good little girl for me and cream my cock?” Hoseok asks, lips brushing against your ears so you can hear him over the music.

“Yes! Hoseok, please,” you mewl. Your heart pounds in your eardrums as you teeter over the edge of your orgasm. Hoseok bites your earlobe, rubbing your clit harder.

“Cum. Be a good girl, and scream for me.” With that, you hurtle over the precipice, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Your thighs shake uncontrollably as you brace against the door. Thankfully, your screams are drowned out by the choir, Hoseok chuckling as he continues pistoning in and out of you.

When your legs finally stop shaking, Hoseok pulls out of you, sliding your panties back in place. You groan at the sticky feeling, your cum soaking into the material and wetting your thighs. Hoseok pulls your skirt back over your ass before flipping you around. He places one of his hands on your shoulder and guides you onto your knees, pumping his cock with his other hand.

“Now. I want you to be good and worship my cock,” Hoseok says, staring down at you through dark eyes. He brushes his cock against your lips, staining them in both his precum and your cunt juice.

You open your mouth, taking him into your cavern. The taste of you is heavy on his cock, masking his own headier taste. Your tongue swirls around his cock, gathering your essence before swallowing thickly. You close your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock. Hoseok groans in approval, tenderly petting your hair and gathering your locks into a ponytail before thrusting his cock further down your throat. His sudden movement has you gagging, saliva coating his cock.

“Fuck that’s it. You’re so good. I’m going to cum,” Hoseok sighs, throwing his head back. You increase your efforts as you bob harder, wanting nothing more than to taste him in your throat. Hoseok thrusts into your throat once, twice, and then thrice before stilling. With a quiet hiss, he cums down your throat. You feel him fill up your mouth, swallowing him down as quick as you can, relishing in his taste. When his cock goes limp, he finally pulls it out, tucking himself back into his trousers.

Hoseok grabs you by the chin, pulling you up to your feet before taking your swollen lips between his. His tongue licks the seam of your mouth, and you grant him access, letting his tongue slip between your lips. His hand entwines into your hair, tongue moving sensually against your own. You moan into the kiss, drawing closer to him until your chests are flush against each other. Hoseok’s kiss is completely different from the way he fucks: he’s gentle and tastes sweet. You find yourself lost in him, allowing his presence to drown you.

His lips are incredibly soft against your own, his hand moving to delicately cup your neck and pull your face higher. When he inevitably pulls away, he has you completely spellbound and chasing his lips, not wanting the kiss to end. Hoseok chuckles at your actions, and your cheeks puff in a pout. He tuts, pressing soft kisses against your lips as he tries to mollify your pout. He succeeds very easily, a smile breaking onto your face at his tender touch.

Finally, he pulls away, a soft sigh leaving your lips. His lips press against your forehead as he holds you close. The two of you stand in that dark confession booth, the sound of the choir slowly fading. The people that had once been near you also move away, leaving the coast clear. Hoseok grabs your hand, checking the outside once again to make sure no one was around before he drags you out. Once you’re both out, he turns to you, a devilish smile on his face.

“How’s that for an unconventional tour guide?”

Hoseok is a voracious lover. He’s practically insatiable and hasto have you at least twice a day and in as many positions as he could bend you into, which is why on the fourth day, you find yourself being awoken with Hoseok softly pressing kisses to the back of your shoulder, his hard cock pressing into your ass cheek. Through the fog of sleep, you feel his hand flit across your stomach before pressing between your thighs, one finger pushing into your cunt. You were still wet enough from the remnant of his cum from last night, now only acting as lubrication for his fingers. However, rather than feeling the tingling pleasure you’re used to, sparks of pain shoot up your nerves. You wince, curling into yourself before letting out a groan, muscles protesting the movement.

“____? You okay?” Hoseok asks, his hand immediately pulling out of you. You hear him shuffle, and then he’s turning you over, looking down at you in concern.

“Mmm. Sorry Hobi, I’m just really sore from the past few days,” you whine, voice gravelly from sleep. Hoseok sighs, pressing another kiss to your shoulder. The action is far too intimate for someone you have only known about three days, and yet, you find yourself sinking into his touch. Hoseok wraps an arm around your waist, lips brushing up your shoulder before he presses a kiss just below your ear. You find yourself biting your lip, attempting to suppress the sigh that almost leaves your lips. Honestly, his embrace was far too comfortable and felt more like home than it should have.

“Have I tired out your pretty little pussy sweetheart?” Hoseok asks, voice deep in your ear. Your core involuntarily clenches, and you find yourself groaning in pain again.

“Hoseok,” you warn. He immediately chuckles in your ear, his laugh light and carefree. Your heart flutters at the twinkling sound, your face softening.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re just so irresistible,” Hoseok replies as he presses an apologetic kiss to your shoulder. He unwraps his arms from you before slipping out of bed. You try to contain the disappointment you feel from the sudden loss of his body heat. You really do, but the instant he’s out of your reach, feet padding into the bathroom, you miss him.

You flip yourself, ignoring the way your muscles scream in displeasure and shuffle onto Hoseok’s side. Your face buries into his pillow, nuzzling into the soft sheets as you breathe him in. The scent of citrus and pine washes over you, and you inhale deeply, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself in his scent until it was all you can breathe. Fifteen minutes later, Hoseok exits the bathroom, only to be met with the view of you holding his pillow tightly, and, with it pressed so close to your face, he’s worried you’ll suffocate. However, when you inhale deeply, he lets out a little chuckle. You stiffen, knowing you’d been caught red handed, before you shrink into your sheets, wishing they would just swallow you up whole.

“You’re so cute,” Hoseok coos, pulling the sheet off of you. You whine in protest, clutching it tighter to you, your cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.

“Don’t tease me,” you pout. Hoseok clicks his tongue, tugging the sheets harder until you were naked. You yelp, shooting up so you were sitting before glaring at him.

“Get up, and get dressed. We’re going out,” Hoseok says, pointing towards the bathroom.

“I’m tired!” you whine, almost petulantly as you fall back into the bed, rolling until you lie on your front, facing away from him. Hoseok clicks his tongue once again, and then you feel him swat your ass. Hard.

“Ouch! Hobi!” you hiss, turning your head and glowering at him.

“Don’t be a brat. Get up, and get dressed, or I’ll bend you over and spank you until your cute ass is red, which I’m sure you don’t want considering you’re already sore,” Hoseok says, quirking his eyebrow knowingly. You tut, grumbling under your breath before doing as you were told. Twenty minutes and a hot shower later, you finally exit the bathroom. Hoseok smiles at you, watching as you shuffle towards him, despite protesting muscles.

“Good girl,” Hoseok praises, kissing your forehead. You preen under his praise before Hoseok grabs your hand, dragging you out of the room.

“Where are we going?” you ask curiously, hoping he hasn’t got something too vigorous planned. You were far too tired, and you’d only been in Barcelona three full days, coming up to your fourth.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. Don’t worry; you’ll love it,” Hoseok says, nudging you into the car with a bright smile. Your eyes narrow into small slits, looking at him with apprehension before once again following his direction. Hoseok gets into the driver's seat, smiling brightly at you once again before he begins driving.

Twenty minutes later, when you’re out of the heart of Barcelona, Hoseok stops. You look out the window, face scrunching in perturbation. He’d stopped directly outside what looks to be an old abandoned warehouse. You turn to him in question, wondering what he’s up to. He cuts the engine, turning to you.

“After you,” Hoseok says, gesturing for you to leave his car. You swallow thickly, turning to the old, decrepit building before turning back to him.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Don’t you trust me?” he asks. It’s a simple question, but one that has you stopping. Do you trust him? He’s basically a stranger to you, a stranger in a foreign country. Do you trust him? He hasbrought you to an abandoned building. However, there are no warning bells ringing in your mind. You take a deep breath before turning to him.

“I do,” you reply. It’s a simple answer, but your face is stoic, not a single shred of doubt on your face. It’s foolish. You have too much faith and trust in a man you really only barely know, but you dotrust Hoseok.

“That’s my good girl. Now come on; I think you’ll love this,” Hoseok says, opening his car door and getting out.

You follow him, letting Hoseok walk around the car and up to you before he wraps his arm around your waist. He leads you into the building, pushing the door with ease. Once you’re inside, you’re pleasantly surprised. It’s not an abandoned building at all. There’s a small reception with a concierge and a large archway leading further into the building.

The man greets you both in Spanish before spouting off something you definitely cannot understand. Your face scrunches up as Hoseok replies in fluent Spanish. You’re completely astonished, before you remember that he visits Spain quite frequently. Of coursehe knows the language. You patiently wait as they speak in a back and forth and soon, Hoseok is reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. You quickly put your hand out, reaching into your bag and pulling your own purse out.

“Hoseok, you paid for dinner yesterday. Let me grab this,” you quickly say. Hoseok shakes his head, already handing his sleek black card over to the man.

“Nope. This is my treat for you,” Hoseok replies, wrapping his arm around your waist again. You scowl slightly, placing your purse back into your bag. The man smiles at you both before ushering towards the archway behind him. Hoseok smiles and nods at the man, before leading you down the path.

“A treat for what? I haven’t done anything,” you say, peeking up at him curiously. Hoseok doesn’t reply, instead, only leading you further into the building. Slowly, the walls change from the modern white of the reception to dark, fading brick. You look around curiously, the harsh of the white light fading into a more soft, muted amber. Your eyes widen when you finally exit the tunnel, a large pool greeting you.

Exposed brick makes up the entirety of the interior, giving the room a dark and dreary feel. The gloominess, however, is juxtaposed and alleviated by the warmth radiated from hung lanterns and small boxes filled with small candles littering the floor. The movement of water from the large pools reflected on the ceiling only adding to its charm. It was romantically dark, the candles, lanterns, and pulsating of water warming up the darkened brick.

“I thought you deserved a relaxing spa day. Sorry for making you so sore and not thinking about giving your body rest,” Hoseok apologises. You turn to him, chewing on your lip. His face is completely serene, and he looks at you with a tender smile that has your heart gripping. His eyes are almost as dark as the room surrounding you and yet just as soft and comforting. The water’s reflection ripples over his face, breaking up his features.

You don’t know how long you stand staring at him, but Hoseok eventually breaks your gaze. He grabs you by your hand before leading you towards the edge of the pool. Your fingers twitch imperceptibly as you watch Hoseok slowly undress. His tan skin is only deeper under the low lighting of the room, and you’ve seen Hoseok naked multiple times, but the sight of his smooth caramel skin never fails to tighten your throat.

He shimmies out of his trousers and boxers until he’s left completely naked, and your throat goes dry. You had never truly gotten to admire Hoseok’s form; you were both far too busy ripping each other’s clothes apart in a heated manner, but now, in the tranquillity of the atmosphere and the dimly lit room, you have nothing stopping you. Immediately, you’re struck with what you’ve been missing. He truly was the most beautiful man you had ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on.

Your eyes stay locked on his as he slowly approaches you. He stares at you through thick lashes, his hair falling into his eyes. Nimble fingers slowly undo the belt from around your waist before deft fingers work away at the buttons of your dress. When he undoes the final button, Hoseok slips the dress off of your shoulder. His touch is so incredibly tender that you’re afraid to move, instead, letting him unclasp your bra and throw it on the floor with your dress.

Large hands trace over the curves of your sides almost reverently until he reaches the waistband of your panties. This time, you aid him in divesting your final piece of clothing. It’s low, but you hear his breath hitch, eyes flicking over every inch of your figure. You both stand there, taking each other in for what feels like an eternity, and it could have been. For in this room, away from the bustle of Barcelona, and even further away from life, it feels like time does not exist: as if you and Hoseok are the only two people left in existence.

Hoseok is the first one to break away. He reaches out to you, interlocking his fingers between yours before gently tugging you. Slowly, he steps into the pool, not once breaking his gaze away from you. You follow him faithfully, letting him guide you into the water. The minute the water hits your muscles, you let out a shuddering exhale. It’s not cold like you were expecting, but, instead, it’s pleasantly tepid, and faintly, you think you can smell sea-salt.

Gradually, Hoseok lowers you into the pool, your eyes fluttering shut when the water encases your entire body. Your muscles relax under the weightless feeling the pool provides, allowing the water to slowly ebb away the soreness your body felt. Hoseok pulls you into his chest, his back resting against the wall of the pool. You let out another sigh, his warm, hard chest pressed against your back and his flaccid cock rests just at the top of your ass.

“How are you feeling?” Hoseok asks, his hands moving to rub your shoulders, fingertips firmly massaging the flesh as he tries to work out the ache in them. You let out another sigh, head lolling back to rest on his shoulder, your eyes shut in relaxation.

“Perfect,” comes your whispered answer. You can almost feel Hoseok’s smile, his lips lightly trailing across your shoulder before kissing your neck.

The two of you sit for however long, Hoseok’s hands slowly working their way across your body. You sink further and further into him with each of his movements, small moans of appreciation escaping your mouth as expert fingers dance across your skin. His hands trail down your sides and towards your thighs as he continues lavishing kisses upon any bit of skin his mouth can reach. His touch is reverential and delicate. Leisurely, his fingers knead the supple flesh of your thighs, alleviating the soreness in them before slowly working his way down towards your shins.

When Hoseok is finally done massaging the ache from your muscles, his arms wrap around your waist, holding you close. You snuggle further into him, body completely relaxed against him. Mindlessly, Hoseok’s hands begin moving; his fingers trail up your arm, goosebumps prickling against your skin at his light touch. You feel him trace lazy circles into your skin before taking your hand between his and bringing it up to his lips. He kisses the pad of each of your fingers before doing the same to the other hand.

The entire time, neither of you speak. You let Hoseok’s hands gradually trace over your skin. He’s incredibly thorough, making sure that every single inch of your flesh is lavished with attention. Each and every one of his ministrations has you sighing deeply, sinking further and further into his embrace until you’re nothing but jelly. His hand moves to lightly grip at your chin before he turns you to face him. You stare up at him through thick lashes, and then he’s leaning down.

The feel of his lips against your own has your knees weak, and you’re thankful you’re both already sitting because you’re sure if you were standing, you’d have buckled under his actions. He licks the seam of your mouth, your lips parting slowly and allowing his tongue to enter your orifice. Your tongues move against each other in a sensual dance, tasting each other and the salt of the water on your lips. His lips are firm against yours, and his tongue moves so sensuously it has your toes curling.

Hoseok pulls away eventually, a gentle sigh leaving your lips. He smiles softly, pressing tender kisses against your lips. Once, twice, and then three times before completely pulling away. He manoeuvres you so that you’re slightly further down, head resting against his chest so he can lean his chin on your head, his thighs caging in your body. His arms once again wrap around your waist before he presses a kiss to your temple. You both sit in the pool of water, unmoving as you lie in each other’s embrace.

You hear nothing but the gentle sound of the water’s waves, Hoseok’s breathing, and his heartbeat. Your eyes flutter shut. It’s completely calm; quiet and serene. It’s then and there, in the harmonious tranquillity of the room, that you completely fall into him.

On the fifth day, the sun is incredibly bright. So bright, in fact, that it radiates with the vengeance of hell fire. That, however, doesn’t stop Hoseok from dragging you outside. Sweat coats your skin, staining your clothes, and you briefly wonder just how Hoseok is coping with the heat. You eye him warily; his white linen shirt clings to his back, drenched in sweat, and yet, he looks completely unperturbed. He smiles brightly, his grin rivalling the intense sun rays.

“Where are we going? It’s so hot!” you complain, panting from the heat.

“Some place to cool down,” Hoseok replies cryptically. That’s the only response he gives you before he’s once again pulling you through the crowded streets of Barcelona. You let out a little sigh, shifting uncomfortably as your clothes cling to you. The bustle of people around only serves to increase both the temperature and humidity.

“Why couldn’t we have just driven?” you whine, almost stomping your foot petulantly. The heat was slowly turning your brain to mush, and you were sure you’d lose all reasoning soon.

“Too crowded. We’d never get parking. Now stop complaining, we’re almost there. I promise you won’t be hot for long,” comes Hoseok’s voice. You purse your lips in a thin line. Whatever he had planned better be worth it, because you are incredibly close to drowning him in your sweat as punishment for dragging you out in the middle of a heat wave.

You have no idea how long Hoseok drags you through the god forsaken cobbled streets: the white of the houses paired with the beige paving only serving to reflect heat directly onto you. Moments later, when you’re close to calling it quits and heading back to Hoseok’s wonderfully air conditioned hotel room, Hoseok finally stops. He holds out his hands on either side, a pleased grin on his face. The only thing missing is a small ‘tada’. You quirk your eyebrow. He’s stood in front of a black metal gate, the tips glittering gold in the sunlight, and beyond the fencing, you can make out large trees.

“A park?” You’re not impressed.

“Oh come on! It’ll be great,” Hoseok says, grabbing your hand and pulling you beyond the gates.

“Hobi! It’s too hot-” you begin complaining, only to stop short once you’re in the park.

It’s almost as if you’ve walked into a different world. The vivid green of the tree canopy offers the ground an ample amount of shade, cooling down the entire park. The air inside is somehow much cooler than the main streets of Barcelona, and your body involuntarily shivers when a light breeze runs across your sweat-soaked figure. Tree branches sway in the wind, and the rustling of leaves along with bird song vibrate through your eardrums.

“Well? What do you think? It’s cooler here right?” Hoseok says, eyes shining with amusement.

“It would be cooler in your hotel room,” you point out, a small scowl on your face. Hoseok laughs at your slightly sullen tone; he knows you’re more mad at him being right than anything.

“Yes, well, considering you’re leaving in a couple days, I didn’t think you’d want to stay in,” Hoseok points out. His tone is completely casual, but you can’t help the way your stomach drops. You had completely forgotten you were on holiday and would have to part with him soon. Hoseok catches your sombre tone and immediately grabs your hand. You turn to him in surprise, eyes widening at the large grin on his face.

“Come on! Let’s not waste the day,” Hoseok says before he tugs you along.

The two of you walk hand in hand down the winding gravel path of the park. It’s relatively quiet. Hoseok points out that most people would have gone to the beach to cool down. You relish in the calm moments with Hoseok, his hand nestled comfortably in yours as you wander along the shaded trail, trees encompassing you on either side. A while later, you hear the sound of flowing water, and Hoseok pulls you into a clearing. You stop short and let out a quiet gasp.

Amidst the large park sits a small oasis, completely deserted of anyone. Crystal clear water floods from moss encrusted rocks, cascading into the lake at the bottom of the waterfall. The sound of rushing water is almost deafening, drowning out the singing birds. Across the lake winds a white makeshift bridge made up entirely of boulders, disappearing behind the gushing water. It’s completely idyllic.

Hoseok grips your hand tighter, and he drags you towards the bridge before pulling you onto it. You both carefully hop along the rocks, making sure not to slip. When you get to the middle, just behind the waterfall, Hoseok stops. Somehow, the water is even louder now, echoing in your eardrums. With wide eyes, you take in the sights. It’s truly beautiful. Vines rooted in the cracks of the cliffside drip with dew while small vibrantly coloured flowers grow around the area; the kaleidoscope of colours contrasts with the grey rocks and cerulean water.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Hoseok asks, eyes soft as he takes in your awe-struck expression. You have no words and, instead, just find yourself nodding.

Hoseok tugs you gently, carefully pulling you onto a large slab of stone. He quickly shrugs off his jacket, laying it on the damp ground before gesturing for you to take a seat. Once you’re seated, Hoseok joins you. His shoulders brush against your own, knees drawn up to your chests and feet almost touching. You take in a deep breath, the strong scent of earthen musk and flowing water filling your senses. The both of you sit quietly, Hoseok letting you attempt to breathe everything in.

“I think I’ll miss things like this when I’m back in Seoul,” you finally say. Your voice is quiet, drowned out by the rushing of water, but Hoseok hears you clearly.

“Like what?”

“Like this: sitting, doing nothing - just watching nature. Life is hectic in Seoul; you should know that better than anyone. I’m a personal assistant to the CEO of a law firm. It’s a demanding job, and I practically live for my boss. I’ll miss doing things for myself: walking through a park, going to the spa, dancing on the streets. I’ll miss-” you don’t finish your sentence. The word ‘you’ is at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. Your stomach drops as you realise that you will have to separate from Hoseok, and your heart aches when you realise you may never see him again. This is unchartered territory - something you hadn’t planned when you’d spontaneously booked your flight. Hoseok goes quiet, and the once easy atmosphere turns maudlin.

“Hey! Come on; let’s take a picture. This is the ideal place, yes?” Hoseok asks, his voice suddenly loud and cheery. Your eyes soften at his attempt at cheering you up as he tries his best to alleviate the tense mood. He holds his hand out for your phone, and you quickly shift, reaching into your pocket before handing it to him.

Hoseok shuffles away from you, putting distance between your bodies as he tries to capture the perfect angle. The way his head is tilted, tongue poking out as he concentrates on getting the best shot, has you instantly perking up. You crack a large smile, practically beaming at him. Hoseok yells in glee, his loud voice competing with the deafening waterfall. He takes a few pictures before shuffling back closer to you.

“Now, one of us!” Hoseok calls, pressing his shoulder tightly against yours before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him. Just as he takes the picture, he moves, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your eyes widen at his action, the camera clicking that exact moment.

“Hoseok! That’s a bad picture!” you yell in indignation. Hoseok’s eyebrows knit together before he shakes his head.

“It’s great! You look so cute,” Hoseok coos, taking in your shocked expression. The camera had captured your reaction to his kiss just in time.

“Delete it!” you whine, Hoseok shaking his head.

“No!”

“Well, it’s my phone. I’ll just delete it myself,” you reply, poking your tongue out before crossing your arms.

“Don’t! Promise me you won’t delete it,” Hoseok says, tone completely serious. You look at him curiously. He raises his brow, awaiting your answer. When he doesn’t budge, you finally sigh, giving in.

“Okay! Fine, I won’t delete it,” you relent. Hoseok beams at you, his lips pulling into their trademark heart shape.

“Good! Now you’ll remember me forever,” Hoseok says. Once again, his tone is completely casual, but the meaning isn’t lost on you. Your heart plummets in your chest as your inevitable separation rears its ugly head. There’s so much you want to say to him. I want to stay with you. I’ll miss you. I don’t want to leave you. I think I love you. However, your throat is sealed shut, and your tongue is unable to form the words. There is one thing you’re completely certain of though. You didn’t need a photograph to remember Hoseok.

He was etched in the back of your mind and carved into your heart forever. You were sure that whenever you thought of Barcelona, you’d remember him. You’d remember the way his skin glowed under the sunlight as if he were the sun himself and the way his body felt pressed against yours in the cool night. You’d remember the way his lips pull into the shape of a heart whenever he smiled and the carefree inclination in his laugh. You’d remember the way he’d hold you whenever he wanted to dance as he sings, voice low in your ear. You’d remember how his hand fit within yours as he dragged you through the streets and the way he’d intimately kiss your shoulder. You’d remember Hoseok. Forever.

“Sing for me,” you demand softly, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could even ponder them. You don’t regret them.

“Now? You won’t be able to hear me,” Hoseok says, looking at the waterfall pointedly.

“I’ll hear you. Please, Hoseok, sing for me,” you repeat, voice slightly louder this time. You desperately needed to hear his voice. Hoseok pauses for a minute before relenting.

“What do you want me to sing?” he asks, looking at you expectantly.

“Anything,” comes your simple answer. Hoseok bites his tongue before nodding. He looks around, taking in the vibrant hues of the blue lake and the white foaming waterfall before his gaze falls on you.

“Inside my blue dream, I want to contain you,” Hoseok begins. His voice is quiet but the hauntingly dulcet tones resonate loudly in your ear. Your stomach plummets at his words, and you take in a deep, shuddering breath as you gaze at him softly. You want to remember this.

“Even if you say no, inside my eyes,” he continues. Intense eyes gaze at you, coffee orbs swimming with emotions that you cannot comprehend. You don’t even try to. Instead, the entire world fades away. The once deafening sound of water ebbing away to nothingness in the back of your mind as you focus on Hoseok’s mellifluous voice.

“Inside my blue dream, I want to hold you,” Hoseok sings, voice rumbling. His words are deep and meaningful, completely juxtaposed by the melancholic melody belying his voice. Goosebumps prickle at your skin, and your chest crumples from all the emotion bubbling up inside of you.

“Even if you say we can’t, inside my embrace,” Hoseok breathes out as he finishes, his voice fading into nothingness and the sound of the waterfall growing louder. An agonising ache grips your heart when his voice comes to a close. Without thinking, you lean over and draw his lips between yours, pouring in every bit of emotion you feel but can’t bring yourself to express.

Your kiss is slow and sensual, lips interlocked with each other. Hoseok’s hand moves to cup your cheek, drawing you in closer. Neither of you quicken the pace, more than content for your tongues to leisurely curve around each other. When the need for oxygen burns deep within your lungs, you both pull away. You flick out your tongue, licking your lips and tasting him on them before you lean your forehead against his. Deeply, you stare into his eyes, wanting nothing more than to preserve this piece of blue paradise between you forever.

On the last day you have in Barcelona, you find yourself blindfolded with Hoseok leading you somewhere. From the crashing of waves and the slight taste of salt in the air, you hazard a guess that you are somewhere on the beach. Suddenly, Hoseok stops before you feel him move behind you. His hands press into your waist, and then he’s gently pushing you, making sure you walk with careful steps. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion moments later, head snapping side to side as you hear the rumbling of an engine.

“Hoseok?” you ask, curious as to where you were. The wind rushes through your hair, sending the locks flying through the sea breeze. It almost felt as if you were on a boat.

“Just ten minutes sweetheart,” Hoseok says, his voice low as he brushes his lips against your temple. You nod, patiently waiting for him to give you the all clear and take off the blindfold. A while later, you assume ten minutes, you hear the engine cut off, leaving you in the quiet silence of the sea.

“Okay, now,” Hoseok says, and you tug of the blindfold. When you can finally see clearly, your breath hitches. You were correct; you hadbeen on a boat. Now, you were in the middle of the sea on a large white yacht that rocked gently on the waves. Hoseok stands just in front of you, a hesitant smile on his face. Beside him, is a table laid out with two plates and what you assume is dinner.

“I wanted to treat you to something special for your final day in Barcelona,” Hoseok breathes out, his voice carrying over the mellow sea breeze. You swallow thickly. His words cause your heart to clench, the ache in your chest returning. ‘Final’. It’s a simple word, and yet it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Hoseok holds out his hand, and you place your palm in his, allowing him to lead you to your seat. Your eyes follow him, watching as he takes a seat opposite you. He pours you a glass of white wine before smiling gently at you. Your eyes flick to your food, a mix of seafood laid beautifully on your plate. It’s presented elegantly and usually would have your mouth watering, but right now you simply have no appetite.

Despite this, you tuck into your food, and vaguely you can recognise that it tastes delicious. Hoseok idly chatters in the background, you, however, can’t focus on anything but the sight of him. The sun is low on the horizon, shades of copper and gold lighting up the sky. Hoseok’s form is illuminated by the glow of the sun, encasing him in an amber halo. The wind lightly combs through his dark hair, white sails ruffling behind him.

When he finishes his meal, he takes a sip of his wine before smiling at you. Your throat closes. Once again, you’re consumed with all the things you feel for him: feelings you shouldn’t have developed within such a short amount of time, yet you had, because Hoseok is perfect and so incredibly beautiful that it was entirely impossible to not fall in love with him. Your mouth is completely dry, as if you’ve swallowed cotton.

So, instead of saying anything, you get up and take his hand between yours. Hoseok blinks at you in surprise, before shuffling out of his seat. He lets you drag him towards the sofa and towards the bow of the boat before you push him gently. Hoseok falls onto the sofa. You climb on top of him, straddling his hips, your dress bunching up around your thighs as Hoseok’s hands naturally fall to your waist. He looks up at you through thick lashes, skin luminous in the warmth of the sun. He’s radiant.

Your neck bends down, Hoseok’s straining as you softly brush your lips against each other. He tastes intoxicating; the aftertaste of the tart wine is undercut by his natural sweetness. Hoseok deepens your kiss, pulling you in closer towards him, tongues savouring each other. Your hands curl into his hair, gripping his soft wavy locks tightly; his own hands wander across your back till they fist in your dress.

The deeper Hoseok kisses you, the more desperate you both become. Hoseok pulls away, breaking your kiss before trailing his lips across your neck as he suckles bruises into your throat. You cry out, his hands moving up your back to unzip your dress. Warm hands splay across your naked back, your own hands fervently moving to unbutton his shirt. Impatiently, you push it off of his shoulders before standing up and shimmying out of your dress. Hoseok follows your movement, both of you eagerly stripping until you were naked.

Hoseok lets out a little groan of appreciation. Nimble fingers caress the side of your breast before they trail along your side. His touch is featherlight and tickles your skin. Eventually, his hand reaches your waist, and gripping you just above your hip, he pulls you into him. Ever so gently, he spins you over before laying you down on the sofa. Climbing on top of you, he traces kisses down your collarbones and towards your sternum. Little moans of appreciation escape your lips when he presses his mouth against the skin between your breasts, feathering kisses along your flesh. Instinctively, your hands dive into Hoseok’s hair, and you admire how soft and silken it feels. Hoseok litters soft kisses in a straight line down your belly, tongue flicking out and swirling into your navel. When he kisses the skin just above your clit, you let out a wanton keen.

“Please, I want you in me,” you mumble, wanting to skip the foreplay. You were practically leaking down your thighs, pussy clenching in a desperate need to feel his cock. Hoseok shakes his head, long hair tickling your skin.

“I want to eat you. I need to taste you before…” Hoseok mutters, not finishing his sentence. ‘Before you leave’. Those are the words left unsaid. You ignore the sinking feeling in your chest, and, instead, buck your hips into him.

“Please,” you whimper. Hoseok delicately presses his lips against your clit, your breath hitching as your pussy gushes with a wave of wetness. His tongue laves between your slit, licking a line from your molten core all the way to your throbbing clit. A pleasurable sigh leaves your lips while your fingers tighten in his hair.

Hoseok’s hands skim up your thighs and towards your hips before soft pads press into your hip bones, pulling you closer to his face. His nose lightly teases your clit and only serves to add to your lust induced pleasure. He swirls his tongue through your pussy and collects every bit of arousal he can onto his tongue. You’re dripping all over him, his lips and chin wet with a sheen of your slick. Hoseok keeps his eyes trained onto you, tongue moving expertly through your folds. It’s completely erotic - the way his coffee irises glow honey-gold in the sun as he eats you out.

His mouth trails slightly lower before he’s plunging his tongue into you. The way his tongue pierces your cunt has you releasing a shuddering breath. Your eyes flutter shut, and your spine contorts, forcing your back to arch off the sofa. Red hot ecstasy scorches your skin, chest flushing in heat. Your hand leaves Hoseok’s hair, instead, gripping onto the armrests, nails clawing into the linen. Messily, he slurps at your cunt, soft pink lips gently suckling around your soaked hole.

“Hoseok,” you mewl, eyes screwing shut and hips gyrating against his face.

“I love the way you taste. I love the way you drip for me. Your pussy is always so wet and ready for me. You taste so sweet, I can never get enough,” Hoseok says, his words vibrating across the nerves of your cunt. The way your pussy contracts in pleasure is completely contrasted by the ache you feel in your chest. Everything he says has a deeper undercurrent of meaning that you don’t want to think about right now, but you can’t help thinking about it. This could be the last time you feel Hoseok between your thighs -the last time he tastes you.

“Close,” you mewl, thighs beginning to quiver around his cheeks. Immediately, Hoseok pulls away, and you cry out. Desperately, your body begins writhing as you whine, trying to get him back between your legs.

“Hoseok,” you beg, voice high pitched with want. Hoseok presses a kiss to your lips, the taste of you heavy on his tongue.

“Patience, sweetheart. I want you to cum on my cock where I can watch you fall apart,” Hoseok says, lips brushing your temple. Your heart flutters at his words as you draw him in for another kiss. You flip yourselves over, gently lowering Hoseok onto the sofa before you drop to your knees.

“Wait no, I want to feel you,” Hoseok begins protesting, but you shush him. He lets out a quiet hiss, throwing his head back when you kiss his cockhead.

“I want you in my mouth first,” you reply, words mirroring his. Hoseok groans before nodding, hands gathering up your hair. Your tongue flicks out, licking up the underside of his dick, all the way from the base to his head before swirling around his slit. Hoseok sinks further into the sofa, thighs splaying out as he gives you more room. You shuffle closer and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping as you lightly suckle his tip.

The taste of him is heavy in your mouth, his cockhead leaking with precum and coating your tongue. You relish in the taste, and briefly, you can’t help but wonder if you are ruined for anyone else. You don’t think you could ever forget the way he tastes. More importantly, you are completely addicted to him. No one could or would taste as good as him. Your mouth sinks further onto him, eyes trained on the way his teeth clench, jaw flinching. You squeeze your hand around his length before gently sucking as your cheeks hollow.

“Fuck… You’re so good. I’ll miss your mouth,” Hoseok pants, hands tightening around your hair. ‘I’ll miss you’; you can’t help it when those words flash in your mind. You will. You’ll miss Hoseok more than you ever thought you could miss someone. When you take him further into your mouth, his tip hitting your throat, Hoseok lets out a little hiss.

You begin bobbing your head on top of him. Your eyes stay focused on the total pleasure etched on his face, his jaw twitching every now and then as he tries his hardest not to lose control. Tenuously, your hand unwraps from his cock, and you relish in the way he bucks into your mouth, protesting the loss of your hand. Instead, your hand trails down to cup his balls, rolling them in the palm of your hand. Hoseok sucks in a breath. Suddenly, he’s pulling you off of him.

“I need you. I need you right now,” Hoseok groans. His voice is needy and full of desire. You feel your stomach churn, nodding as you stand up and in between his thighs. Hoseok pulls you into him by the hips, pressing his head against your stomach before kissing just under your ribcage, his hair tickling your skin.

Small palms slowly maneuver you until you’re straddling him once again, his cock brushing against your thigh and painting the flesh in his precum. You shift over him until his cock is pressing against your entrance, threatening to enter you. Then, you circle your hips over him once, coating him in your arousal until his cock is as sticky as your pussy. Hoseok’s hands shoot to hold your hips before he slowly lowers you onto him. Dexterous fingers flex against your hip bones, his face buried into your chest as he attempts to stifle a sigh. Inch by inch, he sinks into you, gradually splitting your walls open on his cock.

A shaky breath leaves your lips, and halfway into your descent on his length, you let out a soft whine until he’s finally buried into you. He stills your hips, holding you there as he inhales sharply. You both lay motionless, just feeling each other, taking in as much of the other as you can. He feels deeper in you than he ever has. It's probably just your mind playing tricks on you, but somehow, you feel even more connected to him. When you grow impatient, your flex your thighs and pick yourself up off of him before lowering back down. Your head lolls back in pleasure, every ridge and vein of his dick brushing against your walls.

Hoseok begins moving you on top of him, letting you ride him in a slow, erotic pace. Hands skim up your spine, pressing a kiss above your breast, just to the side of your heart. His touches feel different this time, somehow more intimate, more reverent, as they wander over your body. There’s not a single inch of skin that he doesn’t feel, pleasure tingling up your spine at his attentive actions. Suddenly, he wraps his arms around you tightly before pulling you flush into him. Then, his hand moves to cup your cheek, drawing you into his lips. Your mouths desperately move against each other, the kiss filled with raw emotion that neither of you want to reveal.

When you both break away, Hoseok sucks your swollen lips between his own, nibbling on the tender flesh. You gasp into his mouth, hands moving to wrap around his shoulder. Hips begin surging against each other harder, each motion filled with an urgent need for the other. A sudden thrust from Hoseok has him hitting particularly deep, and your pussy involuntarily flexes. You keen over him, clawing at his back.

With every one of his movements, you climb higher and higher towards the precipice of your orgasm. Lips smash into each other fervently, Hoseok’s hands wandering all across your body, mapping out each and every one of your curves. Your own hands clutch Hoseok’s back desperately, both your torsos pressed against each other so tightly you are practically melding into each other. You bury your face into his shoulder, biting into his flesh as you teeter on the edge of your climax.

“Let me see your face. I want to see you when you cum,” Hoseok says, his tone almost pleading. You relent, unable to deny him anything. Lifting your head, your hands move to his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin. Your eyes stay focused on one another, hips writhing desperately against the other’s. With laboured breaths, you rut each other, eyes unable to tear away from the other’s gaze. Hoseok suddenly moves his head, placing one final kiss on your lips before pressing your foreheads together.

“Cum- want to feel you,” Hoseok whispers, his lips skimming yours with every one of his words. The words are choked, and you can feel his cock pulsate. Immediately you know he’s close. Harder, you undulate your hips, pushing him deeper into you, as deep as he could go. When your clit brushes against his pelvis you finally cum. Your muscles seize on top of him, nails digging further into his skin. With trembling arms, you cling tighter to him, whimpering out his name over and over, as if it were a prayer on your lips while your orgasm washes over you in hot flashes.

Hoseok groans, your walls undoubtedly clamping tighter around him. He thrusts once, hands pulling your hips down onto his as he attempts to bury as deep into you as was physically possible. Then, with a choked groan, he cums, your name escaping his lips. You desperately want to close your eyes, lids heavy with the strength of your climax, but you force them to stay open, even when they begin tearing up from the intensity of your orgasm.

You don’t want to miss anything. Your eyes scrutinise every single detail you can: the way his face contorts in pleasure, the way his hair clings to his forehead, and the way his breath tastes against your lips. You commit every piece of him to memory: his dark honeyed eyes scrunched in ecstasy, the elegant slant of his nose and his high cheekbones, his gentle cheeks, and the sharp curve of his jaw. You don’t want to forget a single thing.

The sun sets lower and lower as you cling to each other. You’re both swimming in the afterglow of your orgasms, limbs spasming erratically. Heavy breathing circulates the air as you pant. Hoseok’s hands are splayed across your back, keeping your sweat-soaked bodies clinging to each other. When you both finally manage to come down from your post-orgasmic highs, the euphoric haze gradually fading, the sky is painted purple and pink. Your throat closes when you realise the sun has completely disappeared below the horizon. It only serves to add a tone of finality to everything.

When the weight of your emotions begins to physically crush your chest, you finally close your eyes and let the tears fall. This time, they’re not from pleasure.

Hours later, in the very early morning, you lay in bed watching Hoseok. The sun hasn’t even begun to rise, and your only light source is the waning gibbous moon shining through the curtains. You know you should probably get out of bed; you have a flight to catch, yet you can’t find it in yourself to tear your gaze away from him. You still have a little while before you have to leave, your suitcase already packed and ready. So, you take one final time to commit every last detail of Hoseok to your memory.

His skin glows under the low lighting, the moon illuminating him. Your chest floods with the overwhelming amount of emotion you feel for him. You’ve thought it multiple times during your trip, but he truly is the most stunning man you have ever laid your eyes on. He is so tremendously beautiful, in fact, that you were sure the god of beauty had personally blessed him.

Hesitantly, you reach your hand out, tracing his face as gently as you can. You don’t want to wake him just yet. Your finger trails along his forehead and eyebrows before drawing down the elegant slope of his nose. Unable to suppress the grin that breaks out on your face, you bite your lip, his nose twitching under your ministrations. Your fingers continue tracing his features, along his soft lips, and finally down the curvature of his defined jaw. When you’re done, you let out a deep sigh, shifting closer on his chest as you continue watching him.

Subconsciously, Hoseok’s arm around your back tightens, pulling you further into him. Nervously, you chew your lip, resting your head back on his chest as you listen to the steady beating of his heart. It’s loud in your ear, the rhythmic sound almost lulling you back to sleep. Your own heart aches, knowing that in mere hours he’d be far away from you, his heartbeat further than you could reach.

You love Hoseok. You are sure of this. You don’t know exactly when you had fallen for him, but somewhere between the intimate touches and the thrill of Barcelona, you had lost your heart on him. It’s foolish really, to have fallen for someone in such a short amount of time - someone you knew you were bound to leave. However, you hadn’t planned it. It had been completely spontaneous and involuntarily. Now, here you are, pining for a man that you will probably never see again.

A part of you wants to wake him up and ask him if he loved you the way you love him, if he was willing to be with you and only you. You have no idea what he feels for you or if you are just another notch on his bedpost. What if he replaces you the moment you were gone? The thought of you leaving Barcelona and Hoseok falling for someone else leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You are his. You wholeheartedly belong to him. Of this, you are sure. You could never love any man the way you love Hoseok, and your feelings would never burn for anyone the way they do for him, yet, a part of you wonders whether it was just the Barcelona air - the atmosphere was so inherently romantic that it would have been impossible not to fall for someone, right? You try to convince yourself of this, but when the ache in your chest deepens, you know you’ve failed.

The first light of day breaks over the horizon, the sky painted in different hues of the dawn. With a small sigh, you lift yourself off of Hoseok’s chest before leaning up and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. You don’t miss the way your heart palpitates, pace quickening when his eyes flutter open and sleepy pools of chocolate meet your eyes. You’ll miss waking up to him.

“It’s almost time for me to leave,” you whisper. A part of you prays for him to say something, anything- for him to ask you to stay; for him to tell you he loves you. He doesn’t. Instead, he just nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you tighter. You let out a disappointed sigh before picking yourself up off of him and getting out of bed.

You pad into the bathroom before you begin your morning routine. Moments later, Hoseok joins you, dressed in nothing but his boxers. From the corners of your eye, you watch him. He presses a lazy kiss to your shoulder before reaching for his toothbrush and brushing his teeth next to you. Your heart grows heavy in your chest at the entirely domestic scene. You’ll miss early morning moments like these.

An hour later, you’re both ready. You quickly do a final sweep of the room, ensuring you haven’t left anything behind before following Hoseok out of the hotel room. You bite your lip and blink away the tears when you’re finally out. There are so many memories trapped behind the door: tender kisses and gentle touches between whispered words of sweet nothings. When Hoseok shuts the door, obstructing your view of the room, you let out a heavy exhale, knowing that you’d probably never see it again. Hoseok takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together before rolling your suitcase.

The entire car journey, your hands stay held together, Hoseok expertly steering with a single hand. It’s dangerous - he probably shouldhave both hands on the wheel, yet neither of you really want to let go. Your eyes are downcast, focused on your joint hands, not wanting to look at the happy scenes of Barcelona. It’s a complete one-eighty flip from when you first arrived a whole week ago. Then, you had wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in the happy, almost exhilarating ambience of Barcelona. However, now that you were leaving, you didn’t want to take in the happy scenes or vibrant colours - not when you’re heart was aching.

The journey is long, minutes only lengthened by the sombre air, thick with emotion and unsaid words. You’re almost suffocated by how stifling the tension is and you cling onto Hoseok’s hand as if it were your last lifeline. When you finally arrive at the airport, you stare at it with blank eyes, not really wanting to leave. Except, you have to. Your life is in Seoul, not Barcelona. You have a job there, family, friends. You can’t abandon them all, even if you wanted to, even if your entire being is screaming, yearning for you to stay with Hoseok. You cannot, so, with a steely expression, you open Hoseok’s car door and walk out.

He follows you into the terminal, clinging to you almost like a lost puppy. Hoseok stays with you through the entire process, from when you check in your baggage right until the final moment before you have to pass security, lest you miss your flight. The entire time, his hand never leaves yours, gripping it tighter when the gates toward security near. Neither of you want to let go, though neither of you say anything to make the other stay. You shift nervously from one foot to the other, hiking your handbag further up your shoulder as you turn to Hoseok.

His eyes are intense. He looks at you, eyes laden with emotion. You’re sure your own eyes reflect the same. Once again, there’s so much at the tip of your tongue. I love you. I want you. I want to stay with you. Yet, none of them tumble out, your tongue tied. Hoseok lets go of your hand, your fingers flexing as they immediately miss his touch. Instead, Hoseok moves his both palms to cup your cheeks, pulling you in for a short, sweet kiss.

“I don’t think Barcelona will ever be the same without you,” Hoseok sighs against your lips, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. Your heart grips at his words. He doesn’t think Barcelona will feel the same without you. Youdon’t think your life will feel the same without Hoseok. Somewhere in that short week, he had become a constant in your life, one you would sorely miss when he was no longer in it.

“I didn’t know what would happen when I booked that flight spontaneously. I didn’t expect meeting you, but you, Jung Hoseok, have been my favourite part of Barcelona,” you choke out earnestly, nothing but honesty in your voice. Hoseok’s eyes soften, and you feel the tears well up in your eyes. Once again, Hoseok pulls you in for a kiss. This time, it’s long and deep.

Automatically, your hands fist into the collar of his button down, pulling him closer to you. You pour out everything you feel into it, tongues laving against each other as you taste one another one final time. Moments later, Hoseok pulls away, his gaze flicking to the electronic board of flight timings.

“You should go,” Hoseok mumbles, his throat tightening, “or you may miss your flight,” he finishes. You can’t help the way your stomach churns or the way your chest caves in at his words, crushed under the weight of your heartache. Standing on your tiptoes, you lean over and press one final kiss onto the corner of his lips.

“Goodbye, Hoseok.”

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” Hoseok replies. You bite your lip, the pet name almost causes the tears in your eyes to fall. However, you stay strong, not wanting him to see you cry. Undoubtedly, however, you would miss the way he called you that.

Finally, you grip the strap of your handbag before turning and walking away from him. Your footsteps thunder, echoing in your eardrums as with each step the distance between you grows. The further you move away from him, the heavier your heart grows. The ending is more bitter than sweet, and as you’re passing the security gate, tears blur your vision. You turn back one final time, catching his eye. His gaze never leaves yours. He stands in the middle of the busy airport, hands in his pockets as he watches you. You smile ruefully and wave at him before passing through. When you finally get through security, the tears fall, little sobs escaping your mouth.

Hoseok watches you until the moment you disappear from his line of sight and out of his life. Then, he continues watching, waiting for you to come running back out and into his life, almost like the movies. A minute passes, then five, then ten. Finally, when almost fifteen minutes pass, he realises that you’re not coming back -that life isn’t a movie. With a stinging heart, he wipes at the tears pooling in his eyes before choking back a sob. When he turns away, walking away from security and out of the airport, his heart finally breaks.

You are gone.

Months later, you find yourself going through the motions of your life. Everything feels listless and monotonous. Your boss has become a lot less demanding, hiring a second personal assistant so that you don’t burn out. You are grateful, but it only means that you spend longer reminiscing about your short holiday - spend longer missing Hoseok. You miss him every day -miss him when you wake up without him next to you, miss his loud, boisterous laughter, miss the feel of his arms around you.

Today is one of your days off. Usually, you’d have your job to keep your mind occupied. Today, however, you’re feeling even more morose than usual. You sit in the quiet of your apartment, staring at the photo of you and Hoseok from that day in the park. If you try hard enough, you can still feel the ghost of his lips against your skin, and if you close your eyes, you can hear his hauntingly beautiful voice as he sings.

You stay seated on your sofa, unmoving, daydreaming about Hoseok and how beautiful he looked with the sun setting behind him. You would never forget his face. More importantly, you couldnever forget his face. You had carved him deep into your mind and held him even closer to your heart. You don’t know how long you spend lost in your reverie, but suddenly, you’re drawn out by a knock on your apartment door. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. You aren't expecting any guests, so you have no idea who it could be. You throw your phone down onto the sofa before padding over to the door, unlocking it. However, nothing could have prepared you for what, or who, is on the other side.

“Oh finally! Do you have any idea how many flats I’ve visited in the last week looking for you?” Hoseok admonishes. You can’t answer, instead, staring wide-eyed at him. You blink once, twice, and then three times before rubbing your eyes. Is he real or are you just imagining him? The sight of your shocked face has Hoseok finally calming down. He shuffles nervously as it finally dawns on him that he had finally found you.

“Hi,” he says shyly. It’s completely different from his initially loud words. Now, his eyes are full of hesitation.

“H-Hoseok? What are you doing here? Why are you here? How did you find me?” you stammer, completely in awe. Hope flutters in your chest. Had he missed you the way you missed him? Surely, that is the reason he’s here in front of you.

“Yeah… hi. Sorry, this is probably rude, and I know you weren’t expecting me to just show up but...” Hoseok begins, voice trailing off before he runs a hand through his hair. “I missed you. I miss you. I tried to forget you, I really did, but I just couldn’t. Barcelona isn’t the same without you. My life isn’t the same without you. I think… no I know I love you. I love you. When I came back to Seoul, you were the first person I looked for. It took me a while to locate you, but I finally found you!” Hoseok begins rambling, the words blurting out his mouth. You can’t really comprehend them, still stuck on the fact that he’s here right in front of you.

“I found you, and I was just… I was wondering if we could continue where we left off. I want you. I need you. So much. Please say something, you’re just staring at me, and I’m running out of words,” Hoseok finishes. His fingers fiddle nervously, and he shuffles from foot to foot. His words finally resonate in your head, your brain processing the meaning behind them. You don’t know what to say. This is almost like a dream come true. Hoseok is standing right in front of you like you had been wishing for the past months. However, you can’t help the hesitation that grips your heart.

“Hoseok… I love you too, but this isn’t Barcelona. We’re not on holiday. We have jobs and lives. I love you, but what if… what if our love was based on us being on holiday? We can’t just wander around Seoul fucking. There are so many things that could go wrong. What if we don’t have time for each other? You said it yourself: you travel the world every few months. How are we supposed to cope with not being able to see each other? What if, now that we’re away from Barcelona, the romance between us dies?” you breathe out, laying your worries out for him. Hoseok, however, barely hears the words past ‘I love you’. He lets out a large grin, and your heart quickens when his heart-shaped smile radiates all the warmth you had missed.

“You’re worried about the wrong things. I love you. You love me. That’s all that matters. Besides, what we feel is real. I know it. My feelings for you are as real as it gets. It’s been months, and I can’t stop thinking about you - can’t stop missing you -can’t stop loving you. We’ll figure things out slowly.  Plus, romance isn’t a city. It’s the love we feel for each other. Romance is me and you,” Hoseok replies. His tone is completely steady and his words confident. There is not a single shred of doubt in his tone. A smile breaks out onto your own lips, so wide that it almost matches his.

Then with a kiss, you pull him into your apartment.

a/n: look!!! this one isn’t as sad as the other ones!!!! even though i seriously thought about ending this with them not getting together kenflke,,,, but please let me know what you thought! and if no one fell in love with suncity hobi then you’re all fake and don’t deserve rights

Mixtape Series | Masterlist

[what-big-teeth]

Return (Vampire Boyfriend, pt. 1)

I was hoping to finish this in one go, but it looks like the best method for me will be to work on this story in small chunks. I hope you guys don’t mind this new format for now. With that being said, I hope you enjoy the first part! Female Reader (POV) x Male Monster

tw: injury, blood The tenth anniversary of Last Haven’s destruction is fast approaching. And for once you feel the urge to do something. What that something is though, you’re not sure. 

But doing is better than wishing, than flipping through the local TV stations huddled under your blanket and watching the documentaries like clockwork.

Seeing clips of your younger, ash-covered self being hoisted up by a kind firefighter near the town’s outskirts didn’t affect you before. But now? It’s as if a spark has been ignited in your chest from years of not being able to act. Yet here you are now, able to support yourself and healing through the aid of therapy. These reasons encourage you to make a necessary phone call.

“And you’re sure about this?”

Your fingertips dig into the plastic of your phone case, a method of grounding you picked up long ago. 

“I am,” you say with assurance. “I...just can’t really ignore Last Haven anymore.”

With a soft sigh, Dr. Kern explains she isn’t surprised by your restlessness or your admission. There have been others that have also decided to revisit their respective sites of trauma. Mainly to gain freedom, a needed emotional release, and a new perspective. She sees it as an opportunity for closure, something denied to you since your parents started over again by moving far, far away. But the underlying hesitation in her tone is clear as day.

“If you’re going to do this, I’d prefer for you to not go alone. Have one of your parents go with you. And if not them, ask one of the other survivors in town if they’d be willing to travel with you.”

Dr. Kern has been nothing but supportive since you met her a few years ago at the recommendation of your childhood therapist. 

“I will,” you say, swallowing the sour taste at the back of your mouth. 

It makes lying to her all the more difficult. 

But you know that, in their older age, your parents have fully washed their hands of their old home. And forcing them to return would only open scarred over wounds. While part of you is glad for her support, the other is too busy trying to abate your growing guilt. 

It’s only when you promise to keep her abreast of the situation through texts and emails that her uncertainty and some of your guilt fades away.

Dr. Kern’s backing, coupled with needing to protect your parents and your urge to return, keeps you seated as the intercity bus pulls away from its station. Just before sunrise.

Your eyes scan the shadowed, passing scenery as the sprawling concrete gives way to barely-touched nature. The number of power poles and lines dwindle as the landscape grows brighter and slowly becomes familiar. Somewhere along the way, your eyes grow heavy and your lids fully eclipse your sight. That’s not surprising considering you couldn’t fall asleep last night. It’s why it’s easy for you to give into your fatigue.

A myriad of scenes flash in your mind, a film clunkily spliced together by your weary subconscious. But there are three things that stand out the most: a brilliant shade of red, an old manor, and someone’s back facing you...

“End of the line, ma’am.”

The driver’s announcement startles you awake. Blinking away the grit in your eyes brings you back to the present and the fact that you’re the sole remaining passenger. You gather your duffle bag of essentials, checking your jeans pockets for your phone and return ticket. Thankfully, the bouquet of roses you purchased prior to leaving hasn’t been horribly jostled.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the driver staring at you with furrowed, deep brown brows and a twisted mouth. 

“You visiting family, Miss?”

The look grates a bit at your nerves and is one you know all too well: that of possible familiarity, coupled with doubt. The sort of expression anyone “famous” may receive.

“Something like that,” you say, a tone of finality in your reply.

The driver doesn’t press the issue, allowing you to unboard at the station. Pulling your coat tighter around your frame, you notice there are only two other people present. One being the bus driver, walking past a door marked ‘STAFF ONLY’. The other is the ticket teller awaiting you with a small smile. 

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Um, yes. I’m hoping to get closer to Last Haven. Are there any running cabs that’ll take me there?”

Her blue eyes flit down to your side, where you carefully hold the bouquet of red roses. A frown pulls at her tanned skin, one filled with sympathy.

“Unfortunately, no. Years ago, all taxicabs that drove to and through that location had their routes updated by the local company. It made sense at the time since Last Haven quickly turned into a ghost town. But if you’d like, I could suggest some hotels further back the way you came?”

You glance at the large, hanging digital clock above her head. 12 noon. That leaves six hours of daylight left; plenty of time. 

“No, thank you,” you say. “I’ll figure something out.”

That ‘something’ being hoofing it all the way there. From what you remember from your childhood, this particular bus station is only a ten minute drive from Last Haven’s outskirts. No pit-stops or detours; just a straight road. Seems simple enough.

With a final assuring wave towards the teller, you step outside onto the black, concrete road and start walking. You’re thankful for your past decision to wear comfortable yet sturdy boots, having recalled the biting chill of Last Haven’s autumns. Your eyes flit up. The sky’s somewhat overcast, but you don’t expect any rain. The forecast didn’t call for it but nowadays, it’s hard to trust what the local weathermen say. You know this personally, since there have been rampant theories as to what caused Last Haven to burn. 

Some meteorologists claimed an unexpected dry spell in town coupled with a few well-timed lightning strikes were what set Last Haven ablaze. But according to old documentaries, previous locals had their own theories. Spontaneous combustion, an accidental fire. Hell, some even claimed cryptids or extraterrestrials. 

Maybe that’s the reason you’ve been drawn back here after so long. To learn what really happened. But as the gray, thin-barred trees become more apparent and what little greenery you see transitions into charred earth...

“Where the hell would I even start?” you utter.

Still, your feet carry you forward, undeterred, until you reach the first landmarker of the town. Faded and chipped blue paint against a tan, charred wooden sign announces Last Haven’s city limits and welcomes you. It’s a mere shell of how it once was, more so with how proud the mayor was with its constant upkeep. 

You steel yourself and begin focusing on crossing the boundary into town. But an odd noise redirects your attention. 

A figure sits in front of a tree that’s a short stone’s throw from the sign. You can’t make out their features thanks to their bowed head and the thick scarf obscuring their face. But the holes and tears in their dirt-crusted clothes and boots hint towards a life of vagrancy. 

Seeing a drifter or two always tugged at your heartstrings. And back in the city, it was a usual sight. But here, your mind keeps attempting to comprehend what your eyes see. Their hands move deftly, methodically with ease, which should be impossible.

No normal person should be able to break apart a metal bear trap with their bare hands.

Your nerves scream at you to run, duck out of sight, anything. You will your heavy legs to inch back, but your heel catches onto something. 

You tumble to the ground, landing on your rear with a sharp cry. Your hold on the roses tighten, and the stems bend from your harsh grip. Yet in spite of the pain coursing through you, you freeze. 

Because the vagrant is standing before you, over you, staring at you with wide, dark eyes. When had they moved? Their broad build becomes apparent to your frantic gaze in spite of their baggy clothes. You slowly pull yourself up, just enough to recline on your elbows. Your empty fingertips uselessly clutch at the cold concrete road.

“P-please...I don’t—”

A deafening crack sounds. Something pierces the vagrant’s shoulder, splashing blood and shredded cloth onto the ground. On you. The vagrant roars in pain with a deep bellow. Turns and snarls at the space behind them. A small, macabre part of your wonders if they’re bearing their teeth. Another screams at you to run because the whites a normal person’s eyes would never darken to a pitch black.

Your body moves, your mind blank. You run as fast as your feet can carry you, but you don’t make it far. Another explosion rings out and you only know pain. Against the growing haze of your mind, you think you hear another roar. And maybe see the vagrant leap and fly through the air. You honestly aren’t sure. Your vision fades to black before you can make sense of things.

[andotherbiases]

“into the fall” deleted scene, vers. 2

writing that thread yesterday reminded me that I had so many versions of the scene where MY goes to KT’s place. They all ended up being too angsty to make it into the final version of the story, but now that I used the snuggles & storytime version in “journal of a teenage year” I feel like I can share these other deleted scenes.

In this version, MY goes to KT’s place not because she’s realized her feelings for him, but because she’s upset. I’ll lead into the scene with text from the published version in italics, so you can see where it would have been situated in the original story. This particular version has parts from the other deleted scene (let’s call that one version 1), but with a different ending dialogue. I was sad to loose the intimacy of this scene, because it shows just how much deeper their connection is, but alas, I just wanted to write a light-hearted story so... 

Anyway, I’ll post another version in the coming days. I hope you enjoy!

Version 2: Angst city

Sometimes he stays the night. Sometimes not.

Sometimes they meet and don’t have sex. Sometimes an office visit really is just an office visit.

Moon-young doesn’t really know what the rules are here. She doesn’t understand what they’re doing. Kang-tae doesn’t mention it, never brings it up, and seems perfectly happy with whatever their arrangement is. But she’s confused and unsettled, unsure of what to do or say. Mostly because, surprisingly enough, a re-introduction to their physical intimacy has not produced the hell-mouth she thought it would.

There hasn’t been a single fight. She can’t remember the last time one of them snapped at the other. When it was that one of them stormed out of a room in anger.

When they’re together, in between all the hooking up, they snuggle and laugh and share thoughts and opinions and secrets. And it is nice. Nice that they could be like this again. Nice to lower walls. Nice to share in the intimacy that had always been present between them.

It feels so natural.

But it also feels so fragile, like a spring morning, and Moon-young doesn’t want to ruin it, doesn’t want to destroy this good and beautiful thing by bringing up questions and whatever harsh reality exists for them.

If it can’t be forever, she’ll take it for right now.

And she’ll worry about the fall later.

It happens unexpectedly.

Moon-young is having a terrible day. Any contact with her estranged mother sours her mood completely, ruins any plans that she might have had. A single phone call and a shadow will loom over her for the rest of the day, dark and storming and brewing. It makes her want to lash out at the world, makes her want to be reckless, makes her want to do something big and dangerous -- something that she can throw all her energy, all her feelings, all her thoughts towards. Something to distract her. 

Something to ease her weary heart.  

She doesn’t know how she ended up at Kang-tae’s door, but he takes one look at her face and lets her in without a word. 

They’re sitting at the kitchen counter, cups of lukewarm tea before them. They’re just sitting, sometimes exchanging words but mostly just sitting in the moment, sharing the space together. Silence stretches on between them, but it isn’t empty nor is it burdensome. It occurs to Moon-young that he is the only person that she feels comfortable enough with to not have to say anything at all.  

Kang-tae is sitting by her side, nursing his mug and waiting to listen to anything that she might say. His usual suits and coiffed hair are replaced with casual t-shirts and a pair of thick glasses. On the table next to them are notes from some manuscript, the red scrawls from his pen bleed across the page.  

“I’m sorry for interrupting. You were working,” she says, only just piecing together that he might have been busy when she arrived at his door. 

He waves her off. “It’s not important.”

They lapse into silence once more. 

“Is this about your mom?” he asks, breaking into her thoughts. If the question had come from anyone but Kang-tae, she would have denied it. Would have stormed out of the room, having no desire to air out her family’s dirty laundry. But he wasn’t just anyone. He knew her whole history. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen her angry and upset and despondent. Moon-young meets his eyes and finds only sympathy, not pity. 

She nods. 

Kang-tae purses his lips, clearly displeased. “What did she say this time?”

“The usual,” she shrugs. “How I’m an ungrateful daughter. How I wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for her. It’s always the same. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“I wish she would just leave you alone.”

“She had no problem doing it before,” Moon-young says bitterly. “Funny how becoming a best-selling author changes things.” 

Her mother had abandoned her just after her tenth birthday, leaving her under the care of her mostly absent father. Moon-young was raised by a series of live-in babysitters and tutors. She hadn’t heard a single word from her mother in over fifteen years. It wasn’t until her first book was published and her name was in the news that Moon-young first got a phone call from an unknown number. 

Moon-young’s long lost mother was suddenly interested in reconciling. Had seen the error of her ways. Had seen a photo of Moon-young in the local paper and wanted to get to know the woman she had become. 

But Moon-young wasn’t interested. Her success was hers alone. And if her mother didn’t care enough to go through the tough times with her, all the times when Moon-young had struggled to live as a writer and received rejection letter after rejection letter, then her mother certainly didn’t have a right to enjoy Moon-young’s success. 

Her mother, naturally, did not appreciate being so cut out, and ever so often Moon-young received a letter or call that full of vitriol from her own mother. 

In a way, she felt haunted.

Suddenly, Moon-young pushes away her tea. “I need something stronger,” she declares, already moving to stand and make good use of Kang-tae’s well-stocked dry bar.

Instead, he reaches over and takes her hand in his. His hold is so stable, so steadfast and sure. His thumbs rub circles on the back of her hand, and Moon-young finds herself sitting back down. 

“Let’s leave the alcohol for another time,” he suggests, his words calm and gentle. “How about we get you into bed, and I’ll read you a story.”

Somewhere in the middle of his tale, Moon-young starts to cry.  

Tears leak from her eyes, pouring out her sadness, and she can’t help it. Can’t stop the shaking of her chin or the sobs that crawl out of her mouth. 

And she hates it all, because her mother doesn’t deserve her sadness, her tears.

But Kang-tae is right there. 

He pulls her in tighter, brushes away her tears before they have a chance to fall. He whispers comforting words in her ear, reminds her of how brilliant she is, and how strong, and that she didn’t owe her mother anything, that Moon-young belonged to herself.

And he kisses her. 

Soft, lingering kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids. When Kang-tae kisses her lips, she can taste the saltiness of her tears. 

But also, a sweetness. A kindness.

She wants, so desperately, to capture that. To taste it on her tongue and devour it so that it becomes a part of her. To be so full of sweetness and kindness that there is no room for sadness. So that nothing bad can ever get in.

Moon-young wraps her arms around Kang-tae’s neck, bringing him in closer until the weight of his body presses down on her, and she slides her tongue past his lips. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

He didn’t understand. She needed this. She shakes her head. “No, please,” Moon-young insists, arching up into him.

Kang-tae hisses at the contact. “I think,” he starts, his voice now shaky, “that we should just try and sleep. You’re upset and I--”

“Please, Kang-tae,” she reaches up to try and kiss him again. She needs this. Needs this oblivion. “Please, I--”

He tries to avoid her lips. “Moon-young…”

“Please just make love to me,” she blurts in desperation.

He freezes. Seconds roll by before he pulls back, hovering over her. “What?” 

And for some reason she’s crying again. “Please, please. Kang-tae. Please can you just--” and she doesn’t care that she’s begging. 

Kang-tae’s gaze is probing as he locks eyes with her. He’s hesitating, warring with himself, but slowly his eyes drop from hers to settle on her lips. He gives a small nod before he kisses her.

Afterwards she’s almost asleep when the fall happens. It is so quiet she nearly misses it. 

“I love you.”

Her eyes open, she’s fully awake now, but forces her body to remain still. She stays that way, until she recognizes Kang-tae’s deep breath of sleep.

Moon-young is fumbling around in the dark trying to gather her things. It is early still, dawn is just on the horizon, giving just enough light for her to slide out of Kang-tae’s bed and make a hasty exit. 

“Don’t forget your purse is in the kitchen,” comes a voice.

Surprised at being caught, Moon-young spins on her heel, and even in the darkness she can see Kang-tae’s eyes staring at her. He sits up and reaches for his pants, but seeing his bare chest for some reason seems too intimate and she avoids her gaze. 

He turns on a lamp, and the sudden brightness burns. 

“Leaving already?” he asks as he approaches her. There is almost something predatory in his gait, the firm set of his mouth. 

Moon-young only just resists the impulse to take a step back. “I didn’t want to wake you,” she tries to explain.

“Hm,” he considers her answer. “And this doesn’t have anything to do with last night?”

Her heart is slamming against her ribcage. Did he know? Something like panic races through her veins. 

Kang-tae continues. “The part where you heard me say that I love you.” He takes a breath. “I love you, Moon-young.” 

Moon-young has to step away then. It is too much. She feels like she can’t take in enough air, not enough to breath, not enough to process what is happening. Tears begin to prickat her eyes, and she doesn’t understand why. 

She pushes him away. “I have to go.”

He grabs her hand.

“Don’t go. Don’t run away. We’re good together, Moon-young. These last few weeks, we’ve been so good together.”

She snatches her hand back. 

“Don’t do this,” he tells her, trying to hold onto her. “Moon-young!”

“This was just supposed to be sex,” she cries. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me!”

“I’ve always been in love with you!” he responds.

“What?”

“I can’t help it,” he holds her by the shoulders, hoping against hope that she’ll stay. “I’ve always loved you.”

She feels the world tilt on its axis and it steals her breath. “I have to go.” 

And she runs, right out of his room, right out of his apartment, and down the block until he’s no longer calling her name, no longer trying to follow her.

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 40

XD

It’s been a while since I wrote one of these and I feel like I forget everything I said last time. Oh well. Rosy and friends are actually in Radio Point for this scene, and it’s a bit of a long one. They may be here for a reason, but I still had to throw in some Rosy sightseeing to keep the traveling theme going. I hope everyone has as much fun in Radio Point as Rosy in...

    “Oh my, I hadn’t expected you to get into Radio Point, before I arrived.”

    It was hard to tell with Blister’s deliberate and sleepy sounding way of speaking that she was actually surprised, but she did seem energetic enough for it to be believable. Rosy however, with her waging tail and nigh inability to stand still was far easier to read. “Well, we just had to!”

    “Though they got mad at us for running up the cables,” Draw made sure to dampen Rosy’s enthusiasm with a reminder of the trouble she caused. She puffed her cheeks up at him, but it was Sonic who spoke next in the airship port at the top of one of Radio Point’s many towers.

    “I’m not too fond of waiting, and as she says,” Sonic explained as he pointed a thumb back at Rosy, “we had a reason to come up here quickly.”

    “I bet you were disappointed when you found out the trains are entirely for the maintenance crews then,” Blister the Mouse allowed herself a chuckle at the group’s expense.

    “It’s a good thing you have an airship,” Sonic agreed, though Rosy got mad at him.

    “Hey, we may have had to wait, but even you can’t argue there was plenty to do while we did!”

    ~Radio Point was a really unique town. Asides from the trains, which Blister already pointed out weren’t for tourists or civilians, there was movement all through the air as airships came from far and wide to reach the city. Of course, the locals used them too so they could get around between towers.

    ~Outside of the internal steam works, which I bet Tails was able to visit, there were spectacular views no matter where you went in Radio Point. From the airship docks to as close to the treads as the villages went down towards, there was either a view of the crystals jutting up out of the lava belching grasslands or a view of the pit itself where an even more enormous number of crystals erupted out of the earth. It looked kind of like the pit was full of rows and rows of scary giant teeth. Hee-hee! It’s a good thing it’s not a big mouth.

    ~The ground wasn’t the only pretty thing to look at either. Thanks to all the airship traffic, the skies above the pit were an array of shimmering confetti. At least from the lower levels. Up here in the airship dock it was clear to see all the ships that carried advertising banners as well as those that offered in flight services, like dining and cleaning. There were even hotel airships that were designed to stay in the air for weeks. It was the most airship friendly city I had seen since wandering around in the lands under Yolk.

    ~As advanced as the city was though, there were still plants growing nearly everywhere. Most of the moving equipment that I saw was relatively clean, but the steam pipes and buildings all throughout town were still covered in a wide array of plants. It’s just so weird to me how even on these big moving towers of metal, plants found a way to grow. I wonder if there is a reason for it.

    ~That’s a mystery I’ll have to wait another day for. Today, the opportunity to find my best friend has appeared before us and I can’t wait to meet the man who Tails helped out. Hopefully, he’ll be friendlier than the last member of the Engineers I talked with.

    ~Oh, I hadn’t mentioned that, had I? Oops!

    ~Well, from Blister’s airship, which was like a cut in half avocado in shape with the main balloon comprising the body of most of the vessel, it was easy to see the Engineers’ banner flying. The white and blue flag with the gear and wrench on it was almost everywhere. The pirate flag that Blister flew almost matched it, except hers was a blue flag with her gear, two wrenches, and a human skull set on a white stripe that ran from top to bottom. It really makes me feel uncomfortable flying on a pirate vessel and I’d really like her to give it up. But… well, she’s helping today even though she was supposed to be looking for her friend who is supposedly a Ring expert. And the Engineers are still mad at me, I think, so having her introduce me to Tails’ friend is probably for the best.~

    The Dish that hung above the pit, supported by the giant radio towers and spikes that anchored it, had a similar tower of its own in the center of it. But it was the underside of the dish where the next dock awaited Rosy and her friends. Here, the facilities that monitored almost every radio signal under Yoluku were situated. The utilitarian design stripped the facilities of any comforts, but it was natural considering the location of them above the pit.

    “I wonder how they account for Ring Shifts,” Rosy mused while poking her cheek as they were led into the facility’s inner workings. As she had a clear view of the pit below the metal grating that made up the catwalk floor they walked along, it was little wonder that she would be curious to how they managed not to fall in.

-|-

    “Sure enough,” a rough looking sapient grizzly bear remarked as Rosy and the others were led into his cage like office. Even his desk was little more than a plank of wood laid across pipes and conduit. “You really are from the picture. But what about the other two?”

    “Draw and Blister here are friends,” Sonic introduced the koala and mouse, respectively. “One’s a troublemaker and the other’s a pirate. I’ll let you guess which is more trouble.”

    “Sonic!” Rosy chastised her blue companion and he smiled at her playfully.

    “And that would make you Rosy then,” the grizzly concluded at Sonic’s unplanned introduction. Standing up, he revealed he inherited the tremendous size of his non-sapient cousins and offered his own name. “I’m Over, chief communications technician here at Radio Point. It may not look like it from here, but I’m pretty respected among the Engineers. Pretty high ranking too. I carry enough weight in actuality that even those troublesome Preservers acknowledge me.”

    Rosy stared intently at the grizzly bear’s round form and quietly agreed with him that he carried a lot of weight. His massive arms assured her though that it was likely all muscle. As much as her attention was on his girth however, his was on her.

    “A pink hedgehog…”

    “Eep!” Rosy squeaked and earned a curious look from Sonic. It was Blister though who provided the next words of their budding conversation.

    “I’ve heard she was supposed to be doing a seven-day Ring gathering job for the Engineers when she up and disappeared. I wonder if you can really help her…”

    “Blister, please!” Rosy pleaded with the pirate and their playful smile.

    Draw held no fear or wisdom that he perhaps should and addressed Over bluntly. “It was a boring job anyway, and we ended up saving a bunch of fairies from some autogolems after we left.”

    “You what?” Over questioned in surprise looking at Draw. “If the autogolems weren’t powered by Rings… Those would have been Preserver autogolems. And near a lookout and Ring gathering sight no less. Do you have any proof of what you’re saying?”

    “Just this little weirdo.”

    Opening his fur coat, Draw allowed the yellow fairy he had a Ring Bond with, Mote, to peak out from within. The look of disbelief on Over’s face worried Rosy a fair bit.

    ~And then he laughed. I hadn’t been expecting that. It didn’t clear up the suspicions that the Engineers have of me, but it was enough to convince Over that we could see the Ring Radio that they used. And it was amazing. Amazingly big that is.

    ~Unlike the ones in the wrist devices that Sonic and I wear, this one was a massive room full of machinery, and a ceiling of shifting, glowing geometric lined blocks like in a Ring Gate Beacon. It’s obviously much more primitive technology than what I’m used to using, but due to the nature of our world that doesn’t tell me a thing about how old it is. But…~

    “Wow! Tails really made this work!”

    “That he did,” Over stated, proudly putting his hands on his hips. “He also taught me how to maintain it while he was here. Since then, I’ve been growing more and more familiar with it. It’s kind of become like an old friend.”

    “So, it’s been sometime since Tails was here?” Sonic asked as he folded his arms, recognizing the telltale speech that marked a passage of time beyond what could be properly observed under Yoluku.

    “It has been,” Over nodded seeing Sonic’s impatience. “Long enough that I probably would have forgotten him if not for the picture and notebook we filled out together while working on this wonder. He’s as much a part of my life as anything now. Unlikely I’ll forget him as long as I live.”

    “That’s wonderful!” Rosy chirped up, adding some good cheer to counter Sonic’s souring mood. “It’s great to hear Tails made a friend! He’s normally so bad with people!”

    “Yeah, but him having already passed through, and some time back, means we’ve missed him, kid,” Sonic ignored Rosy’s positivity to get his complaint out.

    “Well, we can still try to contact him,” Over suggested surprising everyone in the group.

    “How’s that?” Draw won the question race and followed up with more than he should have. “These two have really good Ring Radios that are a lot smaller than this one and they can’t reach anyone but each other.”

    “Tails had the same problem,” Over managed to dismiss Rosy’s fast growing concern by revealing that he already knew about her and Sonic’s. “It’s part of why he left. He spent a good while here trying to boost the signal using the crystals.”

    “The crystals?” Blister poked her nose into the conversation. “I thought they must have been rather valueless considering no one seems interested in gathering them.”

    “On their own they are,” Over agreed with the mouse’s presumption. “But gathered together like they are here, and according to Tails likely amplified by the pit, they are able to drastically improve radio signals and their distances. It’s why Radio Point persists here. If not for this pit radio communication would be far less reliable than it is.”

    “Not like Tails to give up on tech,” Sonic remarked wondering what was going through the fox’s mind.

    “He didn’t actually. He left with the goal of finding another pit, or perhaps meeting up with the Queen of the Sky and brainstorming with her about a solution. I’ve no idea if he’s achieved either goal though. The pit is pretty unique, and the Queen of the Sky is a she-devil who even the clouds part for when she races.”

    “It sounds like Zooey’s been having fun,” Rosy laughed nervously. “But if you can get in touch with Tails…”

    “Don’t worry,” Over reassured Rosy of his intentions, “we’ll be trying to now.”

    Per his word, Over began working countless buttons and knobs around the room. From a console with a handheld mouthpiece and a speaker, a horrible static sound came across and filled the room.

    “Static? Sonic verbalized his curiosity. “Ring Radios work across dimensions. What could be causing the interference.”

    “Maybe that thing in the sky,” Over hinted at Yoluku, but offered nothing more as he worked some more dials.

    A high-pitched sound came across the speaker and cut the static for a moment, but the static soon settled back in. However, a green light lit up on the console and Over smiled. “We’ve got him!”

    “Really!” Rosy jumped up with her question and stared at Over with urgent pleading.

    “Go ahead and see if he can’t here you.”

    With Over’s permission, Rosy dashed to the console. After only a moment of studying it, she picked up the hand piece and depressed the button in its side. From there it was a moment longer as she fought to contain her excitement and actually managed to speak. “TAI~LS~!!!!!”

    -…o…sy- -I… …at y…?-

    “Ah, ah, ah… TAI~LS~!!!!!”

    ~It was really him. It was really Tails! I was so happy I could cry finally hearing Tails’ voice again after so long. But… Well, unfortunately the signal wasn’t good. We could hear each other, but it was impossible to hold a conversation. I just couldn’t make out what Tails was saying through all the static. Sonic checked to see if our Ring Radios could connect to Tails’, but they didn’t even pick him up like the one connected to the big dish.

    ~Ooh! It’s so frustrating. I finally had a lead on Tails, but he was out of reach and I had no idea what to do. Over tried to improve the signal, but in the end, we lost it and any chance to find where Tails was. Still… Still, we actually talked to him. He was alright.

    ~The last time I saw Tails he was fighting those mean old pirates who want revenge against him. But he wasn’t there when I found Sonic and helped him beat them. And even though pirates like Blister are inspired by them, as far as I can tell, Tails hasn’t gotten involved with any more pirates. And while that’s good, it means we have no leads again.

    ~But you know, I was able to talk to him and that means Tails is okay. As long as Tails is okay, Sonic and I can find him. And we will! Sonic promised after all. He was going to get all of us home!

    ~…Though, I’m actually enjoying this little adventure and don’t feel the need to go home yet.~

Scene 40 · CLEARED Radio Link, End

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How’s that for a little treat! Tails has finally appeared for the first time since the Prison Prairie chapters. Well, at least over a really shaky radio connection XD I also introduced an OC I expect to be a one off, but I’ll see if he gets any positive attention and demand to see more of him. For now though, this scene wraps up the last of my survey based scenes. The next one is going to be purely off the top of my head. So that means adventure, mystery, and maybe some plot progression. Please look forward to it!

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Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – Lumacie Archipelago: Mystic Woodland – Tsutomu Narita – Granblue Fantasy Original Soundtrack

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

[eraserdude6226]

At last we will reveal ourselves to the Jedi - at last we will have our revenge

The title for this essay comes from the Star Wars movie “The Phantom Menace”.  To set the scene, Darth Sidious and Darth Maul are walking along and talking about how the Jedi finally realize that a Sith Lord has been amongst them for years and they were not aware of it.  Darth Maul turns to Darth Sidious and says, “At last we will reveal ourselves to the Jedi - At last we will have our revenge!” and that is how I feel about this election: Stolen by voter fraud, the courts, and just not cared about by the people.  This is how I feel about the Democrats stealing this elections from under the nose of the American people.

 I just got one thing to say on the events of 1/6/2021.  By now, it is obvious that a majority of Republicans in DC are true and active RINO's and do not support the President (surprise, surprise).  I think that what happened in the last election cycle has so soured me on the idea for political parties that I have washed my hands of both of them forever.  I have even resigned my positions in the local county party where I was a ward and city leader for them and helped turn our little city in voting for President Trump. My town has been a democratic stronghold for years and last voted for a Republican candidate in 1972 Nixon election.

 I was one of those people who was considered to be politically “involved”.  I believed in the process and held great faith that President Trump would be re-elected.  When election day came and all was said and done, I was shocked!  I had worked for the Republican Party as both a ward and city leader for my town and to say that I was astonished at the turn of events and the lack of transparency in this election is an understatement.  I believed in the man (President Trump) and not the party so much.  If he had come to the election as a Democrat, I would have still voted for him because I believed in the dream he was selling – America was the greatest country on this earth.

 Now where are we at?

The Congress has certified the election and it will be 4 years (2 with the Democrats in total control) of the Harris presidency.  Wait you say, Joe Biden won not Kamala Harris.  Well, if you can’t read the writing on the wall, Biden is only a temporary placeholder for probably the next 6-12 months where he will have some sort of dementia diagnosed or some scandal and he will resign.  He was strictly put in place because the DNC knew that a progressive candidate had NO CHANCE against the President.  That will mean with Harris ensconced in the presidency and the House and Senate in control of the Democrats, their progressive agenda can then be forced onto the American people and there is not a lot that we the people can do other than challenges in the courts system!

 Oh and those Senators who said they would challenge the vote – crumbled like a house of poorly stacked cards.  I hope that every true patriot remembers this treason and votes for new leadership in the next election in both the Senate and House.

 I hope that everyone has a copy of the US Constitution as it stands today because it is only a matter of time before it will be riddled with holes and the rights of 230 million Americans shredded along with it.  

(C) 2021 - Red Piper Press

[revchainsaw]

Sonic: The Hedgehog (2020)

Sonic: The Hedgehog (2020)

Greeting my flock of film freaks and welcome again to the Cult of Cult. Todays offering is a bit more of the mainstream blockbuster variety, but as films based on Video Games are still actually quite niche and vastly underestimated I think we should open our hearts to Sonic: The Hedgehog and hope that we find it a pleasing tithe to the cult. I am your beloved minster, The Reverend Chainsaw, and welcome to today’s service.

The Message

I must confess to the congregation that I was drinking mighty heavily of the lord’s Tennessee sour mash when I was taking in this movie. That said, I think that this is a great movie to have a drink with and I mean that in the best possible way. 

Sonic: The Hedgehog is of course based on the Sega video game franchise and stars Ben Schwartz as the titular blue rat. Schwartz brings his brand of high energy enthusiastic comedy to the voice role. While Schwartz is particularly on brand for Schwartz, is he on brand for Sonic? I’m not entirely sure, but I’m also not entirely sure I was ever in love with the old ways. I am not an avid fan or consumer of Sonic media and perhaps that means I am in a poor position to say. I am most familiar with the Sega games and Sonic cartoons from the 90s, and from what I have grasped the more recent entries with their more anime centric and high lore plots still owe quite a bit to the attitude era of the 90s. Sonic was a hero but he was also a bit of a cross between Mickey Mouse, the Flash, and Bart Simpson. As an angsty 90s boy I wanted to eat chili dogs and go very fast that was very appealing to me, but I’m not so sure it would be appealing to a vast audience of older millennials, or even todays kids. And though I think it would be a fair criticism to say that Ben Schwartz is playing sonic as basically the superhero version of his Dewey Duck from the VERY VERY good DuckTales reboot, I don’t think that it’s necessarily a bad thing. 

Dewey Duck the Hedgehog is a small mammal (also not a rodent, I wanted to say rodent and apparently hedgehogs are not rodents, just googled it) from an alien planet where his adoptive mother, an owl named Long Claw, fears that he will be hunted for his special powers, which I think is just super speed but it might be other things. In line with these concerns after an attack by pursuers Longclaw gives Sonic the Moses treatment and floats the special blue boy down the metaphorical river. Unlike Moses, however, Sonic is not found by ultra rich ultra powerful extra special people but is instead alone. Sonic lives alone in exile outside a small American town as a sort of local cryptid.

Thus begins a charming adventure. Through a poor decision to use his powers while working out some personal issues, Sonic inadvertantly draws the attention of the U.S Government and their nasty big brain baddy Dr. Robotnik. Sonic recruits a small town police officer with big city dreams to assist him in finding his magic rings so that he might flee from earth to an uninhabited mushroom kingdom. 

Now about these two human characters. Officer Everyman is played by cyclops from the X-men franchise. The actors name escapes me and so does the characters, and while, yes, I just looked up if hedgehogs were rodents, I will not be looking up this information. I like the review better this way. It makes me laugh. And while I don’t remember his name, I do remember that he used to live In Mt. Juliet, TN.  Anyway, what you should know about Officer Goodguy is that he drives a Toyota Tacoma!

That Toyota Tacoma is also continuously abused by the mad machinations of our films biggest draw: Jim Carey as Dr. Robotnik. If we were to pitch a Sonic movie, I don’t think anyone would jump to Jim Carey as the must have for the role, but after seeing this film, boy was it the best choice. The way he chews the scenery and plays off the rest of the cast and situations is just so much fun to watch. It’s fantastic to see Jim Carey back in a larger than life role. The Decision to play Jim Carey as the kind of condescending nerd who has taken their lack of social skills and leaned in as opposed to working on themselves was a brilliant choice. We’ve all known that kind of guy who tries to play the misanthrope just because they are too egotistical to recognize their flaws. Here Dr. Robotnik has given up on human connection in favor of subordination. His intellect is his only value, and thus he demands everyone around him acknowledge intellect as the only quality that matters as he has. It was a great choice.

From the point the chase begins the film becomes a road trip flick, and despite the fact that Sonic could supposedly cover the distance required in the blink of an eye we watch the ins and outs of our heroes relationship as they learn what home, and being a hero mean to them. By the climax it is pretty by the numbers, Sonic has come to feel at home on Earth and now that he has friends who care for him they can begin to make a world from which neither will have to flee; and of course, they beat the bad guy. FOR NOW. we are treated to an even crazier Dr. Robotnik stranded in the Fungus Dimension bent on revenge.

The Benediction

Now for all things Holy and Profane in this film, please rise for the Benediction.

Best Scandal: Sonic the Cosmic Horror

The original look of this film was mired in dread when the early footage and trailers dropped revealing a hideously uncanny hedgehog monster in the form of sonic. The memes are amazing, the toys are unsettling, there’s still plenty of Quasimodo Sonic stuff out there floating on the web and I suggest that you search it out, the laughter is good for your heart. Also if anyone wants to send me any creepy sonic merch I’ll take it. 

Thanks to the work of online fans and internet harassments, the studio felt it was going to lose money on the project and reeled back the release allowing for the design department to give us a more cartoony but less frightening alien monster. I mean he’s a cartoon, it’s okay for him to look like a cartoon. 

Best Scene: Noodle Dance

It’s hard to choose, and it feels a bit biased, but there are a few scenes with Dr. Robotnik that are just what make the movie more than a forgettable IP adaptation. Not that Ben Schwartz wasn’t doing great as the character but I feel Sonic as a whole would be lost in the milieu of CG spectacles and Super Hero Origin stories that we are bombarded with every year if not for Jim Carey’s performances; and even with them Sonic: The Hedgehog is not completely out of those woods. That said, I think Dr. Robotnik’s Alone Time Dance Party has to be the stand out sequence in my memory. I can’t really speak to what makes it so enjoyable, but damn if it isn’t just the best scene in the movie.

Best Character: Silicon Valley Dr. Robotnik

Do I even need to say it? It’s Dr. Robotnik. I’m not a fan of this villain from any other media. I always found Dr. Robotniks look unappealing, I’m not a huge fan of his powers, or using robot henchman. it always struck me as pretty boring how Sonic didn’t have a cool rogues gallery (i’m talking about 90s sonic) the way Mario did. However, they did something with the design, characterization, and performance that just made him such a fun villain. Also, my friend Jacksons mom said I looked like him and it didn’t hurt my feelings so.

Best Actor: Jim Carey

Jim Carey. It really seems like he’s all I’m talking about in this movie. Once again, I think Ben Schwartz did great and Sonic IS basically Dewey Duck in this movie. Dewey Duck is my favorite part of the rebooted DuckTales series, BUT he is just outmaneuvered by Jim Carey in this role. I think it’s a compliment enough to say that Ben Schwartz was even able to keep up with his energy, let alone play his quicker perkier foil. 

Worst Scene: Toyota Tacoma Commercial

Sonic: the Hedgehog’s worst scene would probably have to be the forced friend fight between Sonic and Officer Wachowski  during the car chase. It’s an overproduced weightless car chase scene with a contrived buddy cop controversy meant to force apart our heroes so that they can ultimately grow a little and come back together later in the movie. Not that I mind a movie like this to be so by the numbers, but it just felt like two of the blandest things on this movies plate being forced into one scene. I do like the idea of giving me the crap part of the dish in one flavorless generic bite, but that still doesn’t save it from being the worst scene in the movie. 

That Toyota Tacoma took a beating though.

Worst Feature: Nothing Ventured/ Nothing Earned

I’m sure many fans would feel that the worst feature of the film is that it isn’t loyal to any previous lore laden version of the character, (probably the one they like the most). In the portrayals of both Sonic and Dr. Robotnik there were decisions made that drastically differed from the ways they have been portrayed before. Sonic is naïve and idealistic, a bit childish, Dr. Robotnik is driven by a lot of insecurity. Where are the Chaos Crystals and my original character Grindy the Wolf Cub?

But I think that these are over all positive choices in a film that otherwise chose to play it incredibly safe. In their cautious approach to appeal to the widest possible audience the film makers gave us a pleasant and appealing cartoon romp but we are left with little to hold on to. The worst feature of Sonic: The Hedgehog is it’s safety.

Summary:

Sonic: The Hedgehog is often touted as “the first good video game movie”. A label that I disagree with wholeheartedly. It is certainly a good video game movie, but it’s not the first, and it is not by leaps and bounds better than other video game movies as a whole. It’s a sub genre that gets a ton of disrespect, and in a world where the biggest criticism levied against the Super Mario Bros is that it’s not a faithful adaptation, I don’t understand how Sonic the Buddy Cop/ Road Trip comedy is escaping that attitude.

All that said, I had a good time with this movie. But it felt like playing on the playground as a toddler. You have fun and then you leave and you don’t really remember what you played or who with. I’ll think about Jim Carey and Dewey Duck, but I had a hard time hating or loving anything this movie did in any strong way. I usually feel that a movie that is “bad” or “corny” or “shlocky” is always better than a movie that is generic, or pointless, or boring. Sonics pleasantness and cheerful energy just barely save it from being another Transformers franchise. I get that origin stories are hard, so I’m eagerly awaiting the next installment, and hopefully it’s going to do something that sets it apart. Probably not. 

Overall Grade: C

James Marsden! I just remembered!

[s-aned]

Dark Paradise - Chapter 1 - “I killed her”

“I killed her”

Her voice whips through the air. The older man turns his head towards the young woman, a frown twisting his face. Did he understood what she meant?

It’s been a few minutes since he arrived on the back porch. The lights were out, but she was there, sitting with her gaze fixed on the mountains or in the void, softly humming to herself a tune he didn't know.

“It’s 2 a.m., why aren’t you sleeping?

- What about you?”

Fair enough. He let out a small sigh before sitting down next to the young woman. He rubbed the back of his neck, his body still tense after a long day of work. Silence had settled in. Not a tense or embarrassed one. If she could be talkative and teasing, she also knew how to savor the comfort of a shared silence. That’s one thing he surely appreciated.

It had been a few weeks since she moved into his home, about one year after he settled in Jackson. At first glance, she seemed like a strange roommate for this fifty-year-old man, as she must have barely left her twenties. But she couldn't stay with Tommy and Maria forever and he had a spare room. Everyone seemed satisfied with the arrangement.

Joel was beginning to enjoy this company, and the good meals that accompanied it. He found it amazing how someone who struggles to eat anything other than soup can enjoy cooking so much. Gradually, a relationship of trust began to take hold. That's why he doesn’t hesitate long before breaking the silence.

“I heard what you said earlier to the girls. Your mom. Tommy and I… We also lost our mom to sickness. She... She got cancer. Before the outbreak. Nasty business.”

She nods but doesn’t add anything. She knows that the man isn’t one to spill about his past. She knows about Sarah, and some bits of his past in Boston QZ. Oh, she doesn’t know much, but enough to understand that he had seen and done things that morality could disapprove of.

And yet, she doesn’t dare to tell him what is on her heart. She’s afraid of his reaction. She’s trying to resist but the words are making their way to her mouth and she’s unable to hold them back, like a sour, uncontrollable bile. It’s too late. It must come out, regardless of his reaction.

“I killed her.”

She hears a rustle, and feel his incomprehension’s look on her. She resumes, turning her head towards him without daring to meet his gaze.

“My… My mom. I killed her.”

She bits her lip, wanting to prevent the tears from falling. She has started now, there is no going back. Might as well tell him everything.

“She… She was sick, real sick. But she kept dying. Most of the time when she was awake, she wasn’t even conscious, her open eyes and her mouth only let out a few inconsistent messages. And she was in pain, she was in excruciating pain. Day and night, she moaned. It was just the two of us. The neighbors would drop me food sometimes. But most of the time, I was alone with her suffering. I would stay day and night by her side, with no more hope of seeing her emerge. But her body was refusing to give up.”

She pauses for a moment, taking a breath before starting again.

“One night, she was finally sleeping. I wasn’t. She seemed so peaceful, so quiet. I thought, this is it. This is how she should be. Just in peace. No more pain. It was dark in the room, there was no moon that night. So I gave her a kiss before taking a pillow and… I put it on her head. As strong as I could. She didn’t react. I stayed like that for minutes but it felt like hours. I stayed until I felt it… Her last breath.”

Tears are now streaming down her cheeks. She stares into void, pursed lips adding nothing more. She doesn’t know why she told him about it. What would he think of her now?

“How old were you?

-14.”

He lets out an overwhelmed sigh. He already knew she had been through hard times. Heck, who hasn’t in this crazy world? But putting her own mother out of pain, that was something else. He tries to find something to say to ease her.

“You relieved her. QZ life wasn’t easy, she might have suffered for weeks, months even, if you hadn’t done that. You did that out of love. You’re brave.

-No, I’m not. After I did it, I just grabbed my stuff and left. I abandoned her there. God knows how much time it took before someone noticed. It’s probably the smell that alerted the neighbors. I didn’t give her a decent burial, and we both know that FEDRA probably tossed her bodies with all the others, infected or not.

-Why did you leave?”

She doesn’t answer right away. She knows that she will have to tell the full story if she keeps going. But now looks as bad as any other time. The night offers some protection. She lets it go.

“Hmm, I was an orphan. They would have put me in one of those FEDRA institutions. I heard what happened there. All this stories about girls being abused by soldiers or other boarders. I thought I was better to try it on my own.

-How did you survive without being caught?

-My dad. He had a sister in that QZ. We barely knew her, she had fallen out with him and when he died, we cut ties completely. I showed up at her place, and she was kind enough to take me. Oh sure, she treated me like a dog, making me do all the thankless jobs. But at least I had a roof over my head. After a few months she started dating this guy, scumbag but it kept her from being alone, I guess. There was only one room, so most of the time I had to stay in the hallway. But slowly, he started to look at me. Once, she was gone god knows where, he cornered me and told me a whole bunch of stuff a 15-year-old shouldn't hear from a grown-up man. My aunt walked in as he began to slide his hand under my shirt, and of course she got it on me. She beat the crap out of me, before tossing me out of her place. Obviously, she kept all my stuff, ID included. Probably sold it to black market, the bitch. I was left with only the clothes on my back."

She finally looks up at the man, unable to read the expression on his face. Sadness, anger, pity? She had only seen this face once. The day Tommy and he found her, after she killed her captors. It was Joel, she believes, who put a bullet in the head of the last of them. The one who had caught her and was standing over her, his knife stuck in her lower abdomen.

Joel had the same expression than today when, in Jackson's infirmary, she told them that she had been sold to these men, after being forcibly prostituted for months, years maybe, in her previous QZ. She didn't know where they were taking her, but she knew full well that her function would remain the same.

“Is that when?” He leaves his question hanging, but she understands what he means. She shakes her head.

“No. There was this guy I saw from time to time, we flirted with each other. He had managed to set up a junk studio in a building in the slum quarters of the QZ. He let me settle there. Of course, he didn’t ask for a kiss on the cheek in return. I won’t teach you how a 16-year-old boy is like.” She says sarcastically, a slight smirk appearing on her lips. Joel chuckles lightly. Touched. It’s around that age he got his girlfriend pregnant, and with that, got in adulthood prematurely. She goes back to her story.

“He got tired of me eventually, and I felt that soon I would find myself again in the cold streets, at the mercy of the first predator lurking around. But Heaven proved merciful, and I met Talia. She was in her fifties and had quite a temper. She saw me hanging out on the street in the rain and pulled me into a building that looked completely abandoned. She asked me questions, listened to my story without commenting, before opening another door. I discovered that there was a whole other life in this city. Rare alcohol, red armchairs and above all, a stage in the middle of which sat a bar.”

She grins at the surprised look of man.

“Yep Joel. There was a strip club in my QZ. She made me sit, gave me a towel to dry myself and began to explain what was happening there. There was no resistance group like your fireflies in my area. There were small local gang, who greased the military tab to do their little business.

At first, she didn't even want me in the room when the club was open. I was way too young for her liking, she couldn't tolerate me being exposed to men. So I did the housework, some services for the girls, all the little chores behind the scenes. From there I watched them dance and drive all the spectators crazy. Soldiers, small strikes, or average guy, they all drooled and get rid of everything they owned for a look, a caress.

After a year, I was entitled to serve at the bar. But just at the bar, I was forbidden to pass in the aisles. It was the girls' work. Talia was tough but she took good care of all of us. We were like family. When the club was closed, we laughed a lot. It was a good time.”

She ends her story with a sigh, before taking a sip of her infusion, now cold. She grimaces. She would have liked it to be whiskey. She still has plenty to talk about, but she's not sure she has the strength for it. The older man must feel it, because he doesn't ask any more questions.

She's already released a big chunk tonight. And what is yet to come is not the happiest. Above all, she is afraid of his reaction. For the moment, he believes she was an innocent victim, captured by ill-intentioned men. But she's not quite sure. She often wondered if she hadn't been responsible for all of this. So she keeps quiet and lets the silence of the night engulf her.

There is nothing more to say, and yet none of them moves. It’s only when a gust of wind makes her shiver that Joel straightens up and speaks in a firm but gentle tone she now knows by heart.

“Let’s go inside. You have to try to sleep.”

-------

Chapter 2

[worstcityvancouver]

Worst City in Canada is Vancouver

I’ve lived in Vancouver as a resident for over 6 months and it claims the worst city in Canada for me. In every new city I live in I try to experience the nature, the people, the atmosphere and the culture. I’ve lived in many cities in Canada. I’ve lived in all of the cities in the greater Toronto area (Downtown Toronto, Scarborough, Mississauga, etc). I also have lived shortly in Winnipeg MB, Edmonton AB, Calgary AB and Montreal QC. So you can see, I have comparisons with all the popular cities in Canada. Now, back on track to Vancouver. The best of Vancouver has to be the nature and environment. Everything good about Vancouver ends there. The most off putting thing about Vancouver is the people. They are extremely rude, horrible and are the most entitled people of all of Canada. You’ll find that generally, this is the trend in any neighbourhood you visit. For scale, I go out every weekend to somewhere new and every weekend I have a sour taste of Vancouver every week that adds to why its a terrible city.

I can go to any sightseeing spot or small neighbourhood (doesn’t matter where I go) all of the locals there make it their business to complain about you even if you’re minding your own business doing no harm. Neighbourhoods are all the same (I’ve visited around half of ~57 neighbourhoods according to Vancouver.ca) and I’ve only experienced entitled assholes who give their opinion at any moment. 100% of the time their opinion is in the form of a middle finger, cursing or near physical altercations.

I’ve picked up on the small subtle things and micro aggressions that these people use as fuel to start their torment. I’ve learned that Vancouver residents are always ready to throw words and rarely want to throw fists. Meaning they’ll talk shit but when it comes to a real fight they all just walk away and keep talking shit. Not entirely sure if this is “Vancouver culture” that I’m supposed to experience but I’ve experienced it 100% of the time. I haven’t met anyone nice to me other than people at work or my roommates.

Let me tell you about myself so you can get an idea of me. I mind my own business, I’m not a drunk on the streets or take excessive drugs (It seems like Vancouver has druggies roaming everywhere), I’m polite when I talk to strangers, I’m well spoken, I’m a working 9-5 salary man, I wear normal clothes and I don’t go out of my way to even be mean.

The first emotion Vancouver residents use to introduce themselves is anger. You know you’re in Vancouver when people stare at you from their vehicles and give you dirty looks. You know you’re in Vancouver when cyclists come up to you and yell in your face with curse words (even if I’m standing on the sidewalk waiting for the stop sign at a good distance from the road minding my own business). You know you’re in Vancouver when people respond to you with a passive-aggressive answer. You know you’re in Vancouver when hostility is the preferred method that residents use in all forms of communication.

Shall we get to specific examples of my time here in 6 months? - Week 1: I’m going to work leaving my home. Next door neighbour rushes from their driveway in his Porche, rolls down the window and says, “Don’t fuck with me. I know people in this neighbourhood, I’m a wealthy man and I know the judge that lives down the road.”. Word for word. - Week 2: My downstairs neighbours calls the police on my roommates and I because we were walking between the kitchen and our rooms. What? Why couldn’t they just tell us to keep it down? Just so you know, my roommates and I don’t even party or play loud music. They called the cops on us cause we were walking from point A to point B in our home. - Week 3: I go to work in a different neighbourhood. I am walking on the public sidewalk to work. A cyclist on the road (not sidewalk), slowed down, cursed at me and went on their way - Week 4: My landlord decided to have construction on our roof without letting us know, it continued for 2.5 weeks. It rained and my entire room was drenched in rain water - Week 5: Went to a grocery store a few neighbourhoods away. Most of the customers and staff were quick to brush me off and answer with a rude undertone - Week 6: Visited downtown, went to several businesses for food and business. 100% of all of the staff spoke very rudely and with a passive-aggressive undertone - Week 7-16: Visited several beaches and 100% of the local residents made sure I knew that they were local and proceeded to curse at me and others. These were not hobos or druggies. These were middle-age to old people who was accompanied by family. - My last week in Vancouver before searching for a new place: My roommate had his car stuck on the road with hazard lights on. His engine wouldn’t start. I leave work and drive to him. He was stuck in front of a traffic light. I parked safely somewhere in residential. People driving by kept sticking their middle finger, drive-by cursing & swearing and giving really mean looks. I wanted to push his car out of the of street so traffic could flow better and prevent accidents but the residents of Vancouver made it clear that being an asshole was their #1 best trait. He had already called a towing company to come by but I was the 1st on the scene and I could redirect traffic better if we moved the vehicle. I stood by as the city of Vancouver showed their brightest moment and I decided that we would not push the vehicle to a safer spot. I gave back to the community today by being an asshole cause clearly you can’t kill them with kindness. Vancouver is a city that was born to be worse than any Canadian or American city with 1/5 or 1/10 the size of more matured cities.

I also visited other neighbourhoods to see smaller parks. I would often exercise outside. Doing a bit of jogging, stretching and warmups on a patch of grass away from the path (other people were doing this as well). Every time I would go out on these expeditions I would receive at minimum 1 or 2 opinions. 100% of these opinions were rude.

Most of these opinions were things I couldn’t even figure out why they were saying it. It was such a generalized form of hate it made me think this is the culture in Vancouver. Rude, horrible and awful citizens of the human race.

I’ve explored and driven from east coast USA to west coast USA and I’ve never met aggression so intense and so often in a rotten city. The worst part was, Vancouver is a fraction of the size of some of the biggest cities in Canada and the USA but manage to be rated the worst city in terms of people quality.

I haven’t gotten to the quality of food, insurance, homes or law enforcement yet but from the tone of this post. I can tell you its not that far from how the people are. Best city in Canada is not Vancouver Worst city in Canada is Vancouver

[littlemisssquiggles]

RWBY Squiggle Scripts #022: “Playing Pretend”

Picture it.

Heroes’ Day Out!

While staying in Atlas, our young heroes of RWBY and the JN(O)R gang decide to take a day off to explore the sights. During their excursion, due to their differing interests, the group decides to split up into four pairs: Ren and Nora, Blake and Yang, Weiss and Jaune and lastly, Ruby and Oscar.

Ruby was really enthusiastic about checking out the Atlesian Delta Mall---a giant shopping precinct within the kingdom that was very popular with the local youths because of its entertainment arena home to an arcade and a giant movie complex among other fun areas. 

At first the Rosebuds were happily enjoying themselves. However things turn sour when Oscar gets separated from Ruby while exploring the wall.

During his search for his missing rose, Oscar’s lone trek across the complex leads him to bump into a rather interesting group of people Before Oscar got a chance to even apologize to who he bumped into, he suddenly found himself swarmed on all sides by four girls who practically towered over him.

One girl was a proud blonde by the name of Clementine Pell. Another girl, a brunette with glasses was Naomi Navy. The third girl, a walking body of pink, was Ran Orchid and finally the fourth girl, Yasmine Alba---a red-eyed beauty with long hair as white as snow.

Oscar swallowed nervously as the girls flocked around him.  Suddenly he felt like a worm trapped in a cage of hungry canaries.

Clementine: Well what do we have here ladies? Looks like a little prince has lost his way.

Naomi: Ooh you're right Clem! He does look like a prince.

Ran: He’s such a cutie pie. I love his freckles! I can just eat him up!  

Yasmine: Quit acting so thirsty Ran. What's your name, sugar pie?

Oscar: *awkwardly* Uh...I---Os---Oscar.

Ran: Ooh Oscar!

Naomi: Like Gold!

Clementine: So you're a golden prince.

Oscar: Uh, if you'll excuse I really need to catch up with my---

Oscar attempted to walk past one of the girls---the snow-haired one---but to his dismay, she snaked her around one of his.

Yasmine: What's the rush, darling?

Ran: Yeah, why don't you come hang out with us?

Clementine: You wouldn't want to refuse the company of four beautiful girls like us now won't you?

Yasmine: Won't you!

Oscar: I...I...

Just when Oscar believed he was a goner, a glimmer of red caught his eyes as Ruby Rose came into view.

Ruby: There you are!  I've been looking all over for you.

Oscar: *in relief* Ruby!

Instantly, Oscar wiggled his way out of the snow-haired girl’s grip and joined Ruby at her side. Ruby smiled at Oscar before training her attention on the four girls who eyed her with stern expressions.

The blonde one even got up in Ruby’s face.

Clementine: Excuse me but we saw him first!

Ran: Yeah paws off our little prince!

Ruby: *blinking confusedly* Your little… what now?

She looked at Oscar.

Ruby: Oscar, do you know these girls? 

Oscar: No I've never seen them in my life.

Ruby: *frowning crossly* Are they harassing you?

Oscar: I---

Yasmine: He was about to get to know us personally before you butted in.

Naomi: Buzz off!

Ran: Yeah, who do you think you are?

Ruby: Oh where are my manners? The name’s Ruby Rose and…

Ruby draped one arm around Oscar’s shoulder pulling him closer to her with a big beaming smile.

Ruby: I'm his girlfriend!

CNRY: *in unison* What!

Oscar: Wait...what? 

Clementine: *hands on hips; appearing skeptical* Funny, you don't seem like his girlfriend.

Yasmine: Yeah like a cutie prince like him would ever date ugly peasant trash like you.

Oscar: *frowning defensively* Hey! Don't talk to her like----

Ruby: It's okay, sweetie. I'll handle this.

Ruby glanced back at the four CNRY girls; the smile on her face now curling into a smirk.

Ruby: So you want proof, you say?

Before Oscar had time to react; the next thing the small farm boy knew, Ruby suddenly closed the space between them and planted her bare lips over his in a kiss.

At first, Oscar was caught off guard by the sudden invasion. His body stiffened at the first out of shock but after a while he slowly felt herself melt into the kiss and it was not long before that he actually started kissing Ruby back.

By the time the two parted, Oscar’s heart was like a drum in his chest. His cheeks were flushed; far more than usual as he just stood staring at Ruby.

He wasn’t the only one. When Ruby returned to the four girls, their faces were a perfect Picasso of astonishment, disappointment and unbridled rage. A masterpiece of human expression that brought the big Chesire-cat smile back to Ruby’s face.

Ruby: *smugly* Proof enough for you ladies? Or do you need more convincing?

Yasmine: *disgustedly* No thank you!

Clementine: Let's go girls. Before I lose my lunch.

Naomi & Ran: Totally!

Whipping their hair, the CNRY girls walked away; finally leave Ruby and Oscar to themselves once more.

Ruby: Phew! That was a close one. Sorry for that. It was the only thing I could think of. But at least they're gone now, right Oscar? 

Oscar: ...

Ruby: Oscar?

Ruby faces Oscar; finding him still staring at her.

Ruby: What's with that face! 

Oscar: I'm sorry! You...kissed me. You actually kissed me.

Ruby: *defensively* Yeah but it was a fake kiss. To help you with the---

Oscar: *frantically* I know I know! It's just...that was...well...my…

Ruby: …Wait, was that...your first kiss?

Oscar: *awkwardly*...Ye---Yeah. Pretty much, yeah. 

Ruby: Oh. Oh no. I’m so sorry!

Oscar: No! No! It's ok. Better you than those girls, right?  Besides...it was fine.

Ruby: *taken aback* Fine?

Oscar: As in good. *embarrassed* It’s…not exactly how I pictured our---I mean…my first kiss being but---y’know…

Ruby: *awkwardly*Well...uh...if it's any consolation, it was my first kiss too so…

Oscar: *incredulously* Wait...WHAT! That cannot be your first kiss. How?

Ruby: What do you mean how?

Oscar: I just...I mean I always figured you of all people would have kissed tons of guys before.

Ruby: Excuse me?

Oscar: I don't mean it any bad way. I just...I always figured a beautiful girl like you would have some tall handsome guy or y’know…several guys waiting for you back home in Vale.

Ruby: *snorts* That's…really weird but really sweet of you to assume but...no.

Oscar: *still in disbelief* Really? Not even at Beacon?

Ruby: Well at Beacon I was pretty much the runt of the school. Youngest huntress to be accepted, remember?

Oscar: Yeah but...you're also pretty amazing.

Ruby: *laughingly* Trust me. If you had met me back then, you wouldn't think that. 

Oscar: I doubt it. If you were just as cool and kind as you are now, I would've liked you sooner. *jokingly* Y’know beat out all those guys in line for your hand.

Ruby: *giggling* Oh please. I didn't even have a date to the school dance. Me having a line of guys chasing after me. That’s rich!

Oscar: I should've been at Beacon. 

Ruby: Why’d you say that?

Oscar: So I could’ve asked you to the dance.

Ruby: *snorts* Pffft! Again, really sweet of you Oscar but… you would’ve been 13. That’s younger than I was.

Oscar: *smiling* So? I'd still ask you.

Ruby: *blushing slightly* Well tell you what? If there's ever another dance, you'd be my first choice for my date.

Oscar: *grinning* I'm going to hold you to that. It’s a date. And…uh… speaking of dates…

Oscar took Ruby’s hand, looking at her warmly.

Oscar: Ms. Rose, would you do me the honour of going on a date with me right now?

Ruby:*snickering* Do me the honour?

Oscar: *embarrassedly* What? Tha---That’s how the guys asked out the girls back home. It’s a farm folk custom!

Ruby:*laughing* You’re not serious!

Oscar: *huffily* It is! You Valerian city girls just don’t know common courtesy.

Ruby: *teasingly* Jokes on you, I’m a Patch girl, born and raised. Besides I meant about the date thing. You’re not serious about that, right?

Oscar: Actually I am. We still have a couple hours to kill before we meet back up with the others, right? And…there’s a perfectly good movie theatre right over there that’s showing all three Grimm Samurais movies with a food court that gives out free popcorn to couples. Besides I think those crazy girls from before might still be lurking around. You mind playing my girlfriend for a few more hours?

Ruby: *excitedly* You had me at Grimm Samurais! Let’s go!

Oscar: *grinning* After you, snookums.

Ruby gave Oscar a weird look; brows raised. Oscar blushed.

Oscar: *defensively* What? It---It’s part of the pretend.

Ruby: Y’know what’s also part of the pretend. You paying for me.

Oscar: What!

Ruby: Now c’mon Oscar, what kind of pretend boyfriend would you be if you didn’t treat your cute pretend girlfriend to our pretend movie date? Isn’t that right pumpkin?

Oscar: *pouting* I’m going to pretend dump you.

Ruby: Can’t cause you’re pretend madly in love with me!

Ruby sticks out her tongue at Oscar playfully before skipping off before he could say anything else. Oscar only shook his head as he only stared after the Silver eyed huntress. He then sighed dreamily.

‘…Or maybe I’m just in love with you for real…’ Oscar thought; an affectionate smile already tugging at his lips. With that, the young farm boy caught up to Ruby; taking her hand in his again as she in turn beamed brightly and tugged him forward in eager excitement, as the two rosebuds entered the mall theater together.

And scene.

Squiggly Scriptwriter’s Commentary:

This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and I didn’t realize how adorkably cheesy this was until I finished editing it. So much cheese. Hope no one reading is lactose intolerant.

This spawned from the random idea of what if… Ruby fake-out made out with Oscar to get him out of a sticky scenario with a group of fangirls. I quite like the romance trope of the fated pair fake kissing each other for show only for their real feelings to surface later in the plot.

I was planning on releasing this script earlier but…y’know busy bug syndrome got in the way. It wasn’t until I saw @blackhakumen​ beat me to the punch with his own version of the “playing pretend” trope for Rosegarden, that I finally figured it’s about time I finished this. You can almost say his work gave me the push to finally wrap this up! Thanks for the motivation boast with your script Black. If you haven’t, check out Mini Fanfic #64: My Boyfriend by Blackhakumen.

I haven’t written anything this cheesy for Rosegarden since my ‘A-Dork You!’ RWBY Squiggle Script. Good times. I still love that script.

A special thank you bunches of oats to my fellow Garden Rosebud @miki-13​ for loaning me their lovely OCs who cameoed in this script.

The CNRY girls are from Miki’s RWBY fanfic---‘Reconciliation’. If you haven’t already checked it out, I’d definitely recommend it to you guys. It’s a fantastic read that not only tells an excellent interpretive follow-up from the events of V6 but it also includes an original cast of interesting characters. Seriously check it out.

I hope you didn’t mind the cameo Miki. When I first thought up this script, I was originally going to go with a random character but then I remembered your CNRY girls. Sorry if me borrowing them was for something as cheesy as this. The CNRY girls served their part well. I just hope I did your girls justice here.

More RWBY Squiggles Scripts

 ~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

[astxriism]

Blood Moon Rising

Title:  Pup

Featuring: Rowan & Luna, Rowan & Angelica, Rowan & Leo (flashback)

Summary: Not a man, nor a beast but something more. When Rowan awakens to find himself thrust into a world hidden from him for years. Finding himself a part of a pack, and to uncover the mystery of his heritage and the two people that seemingly know him better then he knows himself. A prophecy on the verge of fullfilment; will Rowan be able to face this new life and the people in it? Or will his destiny be to much for him to bear?

A/N: So I made an outline ( a very messy outline) and I have a clear idea on where I want this to go. Since I had a couple of memes from saturdays meme day that went unanswered (from Elly and Di) This is me blending them together for this part and adding on to it.  Hopefully, it works lol. Also, I’ve sprinkled in some of my other npcs that I now have to add to my growing list of thought babies on my character page. So, I’ll be updating that as well. Did I mention I love AU! Okay, on with the show. @storybot​ post

Cure, Uptown New Orleans

There were a couple of places in Nola that offered good food and drink. Rowan had preferred to stay away from the hussle of high tourist areas. Drunken frat boys, wild hen nights and boob flashing wasn’t really his scene anymore; if it had been ever. Cure offered him the good drink and food he craved without all the hoopla of what New Orleans was known for; party city of the western world.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Rowan turned in his chair at the bar, looking at the man who took the seat next to him. Most people gave him a wide berth; tourist that happened upon him in the bar oftern didn’t stick around long because it was too ‘boring’. Locals, gave him a nod but mostly went about their business. Dark eyes ran over the man as he ordered a drink and asked for a menu.

He didn’t give off the appearance of someone unfamiliar to the area. But Rowan was sure he’d never seen him in the bar before. Six months, he lived in a small apartment near the french quarter. Six months he’d been coming to this bar. Seen many attractive men and women walk through the door, went home with a few of them too.

This man, was different.

“ My thoughts aren’t that intresting,” Rowan said.

The dark-haired man chuckled, turning his body towards Rowan. He liked his laugh, his was deep, resonating in his chest;  a slight huskyness to it.

“ I don’t know. Those frown lines on your forhead would say you have lots of ‘em.”

“Or I’m a natural brooder and I wake up like this.” he grinned.

The man shook his head, pointing a finger towards his own chest.  “ That would be me. I came out of my mother's womb with this scowl.”

Now Rowan laughed. He liked talking with him. Not just because he had the balls to approach him - because most didn’t. No, it went deeper than that. He had something, something that naturally drew him in. Tugging at the middle of his chest, leaving him feeling warm and safe in his presence. It should have been a warning sign, there was all sorts of strange and unexplainable things happening in this city. Happening around him, the reason why his memory was fractured and he couldn’t recall much— if any of his childhood. The people he came from, his family.

Solitude was all he knew, with the occasional dalliance here  and there. He had no family, no friends, no home. A tumble weed in a world that seemingly wanted nothing to do with him and always seemed to cut him off at the knees.

It should have been a warning sign, when he streched out his hand towards the stranger. He should have gotten up and left when he felt the jolt of electricity that ran up his arm when their hands met. He should have been nervous as a warmth spread through him, calming and alluring. Making him think of words like home. Instead, Rowan stayed seated, eyes on the other and spoke.

“Rowan Polat.”

The butterflies in his stomach took off, as a knowing smile appeared on the other man’s face.

“ Leo Ronan, it’s very nice to meet you Rowan.”

The Bayou, New Orleans (present)

“Watch out!”

The warning call was enough to pull Rowan out of his thoughts. His hand reaching out to catch the flying object just before it hit him in the face. A group of boys looking back at him wearily. Giving the closest, and seemingly younger boy a wink. Rowan tossed it over to him. Who smiled waving in thanks as he took off running ball firmly in hand as the others followed.

The party was still going, though now it was late afternoon. Apparently, they would stay here until night fall. Before making their way back towards the 7th ward. From what he could gather- and that wasn’t much-considering people were either intrested in drinking, eating, or they were busy trying to figure him out. Which left him confused and looking for the solitude he had lost.

Once he had his fill of ‘meeting the pack’. Rowan had found a tree and took refuge beneath it. Watched as Leo and Jude walked away arm in arm and that left him in even more of a sour mood. So, he nursed a botle of mead someone had made and sat down and people watched.

“ What crawled up your ass pup?”

Craning his head, at the woman that stopped a few feet ahead of him. Rowan decided to ignore her less then steller greeting and focused on one word.

“Pup?”

“Yeah, it’s what we call first-timers. You did shift for the frist time last night right?” she said, arms crossed over her chest.

“ I did, i just didn’t think everyone would be calling me pup. You, Leo, that group of dick heads over there.”

The woman’s eyes followed where Rowan gestured. Burly looking men,  a few feet away. Loud, obnoxious, and giving other people a hard time when ever they passed them.

“Ah yes, the goon squad.” she mused shaking her head.

“ Ignore Dale and is acolytes. Between the five of them, they can’t even fire off one brain cell. Let alone oporate 10% of their own.”

Rowan eyed her a moment before he started to laugh. She was funny, moody but funny.

“Guess I won’t go to them for a philosophical debate?”

She shook her head, “ Not unless that debate involves using your fist or teeth.”

Looking away from Dale and company, their eyes met. A simliar a quizzical look in her dark eyes. He was about to call her on it, before she took on a neutral expression almost bored look.

“Come on, I’ve got to take you to Angelica.”

“Who?”

Letting out an annoyed sigh she glared at him, “ Does it matter, Leo told me to take you to her so that’s what I’m doing.” she quipped “- don’t be difficult. I’m not in the mood .”

Turning she began to walk away from him. The petty side of him wanted to stay right were he was under his tree. But the need to do as he’s alpha said took over and he, reluctantly,  jogging up next to her.

“You aren’t going to tell me your name?”

She raised a brow, “ Is that a line? Cause it needs work.”

“ I just meant everyone has introduced themselves in some way. Even your buddy Dale.” he chuckled at the look of disgust on her face. “ So no name then. Should I call you grumpy? You look like a Grumpy or maybe bit-”

“Geez, Luna alright. My name is Luna.”

Rowan grinned bumbing her with his shoulder,  “See, that wasn’t so hard was it?”

“It was, and you’re annoying.” she huffed increasing her pace

Rowan was able to keep up easily enough, chuckling to himself. Was it to early to say that he liked Luna? He didn’t think so, it was a welcome change. While she might give off the vibe of ‘ leave me be or I'll cut you’.  Rowan found he liked her energy.  It didn’t take long before they were infront of a large tent closer to the woods. Luna turned back towards the other, jutting her chin towards the tent. 

“ Go on pup, she’s waiting for you.”

Rolling his eyes - because the whole pup thing was going to get old real quick. He moved towards the opening.

“And Rowan...”

His footsteps haulted; turning to face her once more. As she ran a hand through her dark hair she gave him a little shrug and smirked, “ Welcome to the pack.”

For his part, Rowan mimicked her smirked giving a nod of thanks before entering the tent. The inside was darker then he would have expected. Considering they were now in the hight of the afternoon. A few candles were ablaze on a table. A wooden bowl in the center surrounded by the candles.  Rowan frowned as he entered. His eyes landing of the figure in the far corner. She wore a long flowy dress, bracelets clinking together as she worked on something. Dark curly hair sat high on her head as her caramel- mocha skin glisten in the candle light.

“ Angelica I take it.” he called .

His eyes continued to take in his surrounding. The collection of plants and bottles strewn around the diffrent surfaces.  When she finally turned around, he was met with the grey -blue eyes he had seen earlier with Leo, albeit briefly.

“ I am,” smiling softly; extending her arm towards the table and the pillow chair in the center. Rowan took the cue ,and made his way towards the table. It took him a minute to get comfortable. Sitting with his legs crossed and pulled under him. Resting his elbows on his knees as he watch her, effortlessly, take the seat opposite of him.

Angelica placed a knife next to the bowl in the center of the table. Her eyes never leaving his. A part of him, was wondering what was different about her. She was different, not like the others in the pack, more like him. Not that he could pinpoint how. Something akin to outer worldly in her eyes.  For the first time, he felt a little on edge under her watchful gaze.

A knowing smile graced her lips, and Rowan was sure that she could feel his apperhension.

“May I have your hand please?”

He raised a brow, eyes drifting towards the knife, “ Why?”

She giggled, “You have a lot of questions Rowan, and not all of them will be answered in a day. All I ask is for you to trust me, can you do that?”

No. He didn’t want to trust her. He shouldn’t trust her. Look where trusting a beautiful face got him. Rowan trusted Leo, a man he hadn’t known only spending a couple of hours with him.   Now he was a werewolf, surrounded by people he didn’t know but  did. His life turned upside down and he had the sickening feeling that his life was only going to become more topsyturvy as time went on.

Even with everything in him crying for Rowan to get up and run, run and never look back. Damn it if he didn’t feel some kind of security with this woman. So, he stretched out his hand towards her. Shivering as soft, gentle hands took hold of his.

Rowan watched as she looked over his palm. Her digits dancing across the lines indented in them. Whispering words underher breath that even with his improved hearing he couldn’t quite make out. It was a diffrent language though. French, Creole?

“Latin,” she supplied her eyes still on his hand.

Okay, that wasn’t creepy.

“Isn’t that a dead language?”

“It’s only dead to the people who no longer use it.” she giggled again reaching for the knife. The wolf inside him was stirring and Rowan couldn’t help but fidget a little in his seat. When her steel eyes met his, he calmed his wolf ready to attack if need be.

“Trust me.” was all she said before she dragged her knife along his palm. His blood filling the bowl in front of them. The pain wasn’t so bad, but his hand did sting. When Angelica released him, he snatched his hand away, looking down to see how bad the damage was. But there was no damage, the cut was gone. All that remaind was slightly pink new flesh.

“How did yo-”

“You’re a werewolf now, we heal faster then most.” she grinned.  “Ignis.”

Brown eyes widen as the bowl that held his blood became inblazed with the reddish, orange flame in the center. He was in awe as he leaned closer towards the flame. Passing a hand through it, he didn’t know what he was expecting. A hologram, some sort of trick of the eye? But as he felt the heat against his flesh he knew it was real. Eyes widen in wonder, he looked up at a very amused face of Angelica.

“Who are you?”

Giving a rueful shake of her head, she flicked her wrist as the flap of the entrance opened up, casting in the afternoon light once more.  

“You’ll find out soon enough, mon cher.”

[ink-flavored]

11/11/11 Tag Game

Tagged by the lovely @bookenders ! thanks!

Questions

1. Would you rather know every language on Earth except the one of the country you currently reside, or know every word and definition of every word in your native tongue?

2. You are now allowed to own any animal with the guarantee that you’ll be able to take care of it properly. Who’s your new best friend?

3. What’s the most ridiculous thing on your bucket list?

4. You have to be handcuffed to one of your characters for a week. Who do you pick?

5. What 3 famous people, living or dead, would you most like to chat with?

6. What’s the worst nickname you’ve ever gotten?

7. Do you believe in ghosts? Why/Why not?

8. What’s the best day of the week?

9. Best and worst things you’ve ever bought?

10. You can ask one question, and have it answered completely truthfully – no strings attached. What do you ask?

11. What’s a random piece of trivia you know?

Tagging (no pressure!): @royalbounties, @rainy-rose, @cataclysmic-writer, @isanyonetoknow, @frankenstienn, @rrrawrf-writes, @qelizhus, @tenacious-scripturient @surroundedbypearls, @farrradays, @blueinkblot, and anyone else who feels like it!

 My answers below the cut!

1. What’s a writing tip or piece of advice you stand by 100%? What’s a piece of advice/tip you stand by 0%?

One tip I always stand by is to never let anyone dictate what you write. Criticism has its place, and sometimes that place is in the garbage. If you’re not happy making a change someone asks you to make – or tells you that you “should” make – then you have absolutely no reason to do it. Your vision is yours.

Really, I hate any “tip” that tells you to never do [x]. Only very, very rarely are they actually useful, and what most of them are trying to tell you is to not use [x] until you fully understand how to write without it.

Adverbs, for example. There’s a difference between using adverbs for something like “shouted loudly” and “smiled sadly.” The former is redundant, the second adds character to a scene. Adverbs aren’t evil – but if you don’t know how and where to use them, it makes your writing weaker.

2. What’s your primary concern when starting a new story?

The plot. I’m a terrible outliner, and a lot of my ideas come with only the most basic of arcs before fucking off and leaving me to world-build for the next 6 months and do nothing else.

3. What’s your favorite literary device?

Ooh, tough one. I’m a huge fan of foreshadowing – writing and reading it – but symbolism is so cool too.  And metaphors! Ugh! Too many cool ones, pass.

4. Who is your favorite artist? Have you ever written anything inspired by their art? What was it? If not, would you ever? What would it be?

A FAVORITE ARTIST??? YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO ANSWER THAT?? ARG that’s so unfair. You’re evil.

Although, I will say my recent art trade with my (very cool) friend @/malikbishtar was EXTREMELY fun!! You can find [my half] here and [their half] here!! That particular trade was fanfic/fanart respectively, and I would 100% be down for doing that again or for an original trade with somebody else!

As for writing something out of the blue based on somebody’s art, no I’ve never done that. I’m very shy about posting my writing online (I always have been), especially unsolicited writing for other people. I’ve certainly been inspired by people’s art, but I’ve never “done” anything about it, if you feel me. Maybe someday!

5. Are there any tourist traps in the world of your WIP? What are they?

YES absolutely. Especially in The God-Dragon’s Wife. Because the population of Syo-Lang (most of it anyway) is so religious and devoted to the God-Dragons, there’s a huge market for touring sacred spaces, cities build elaborate temples in hopes of attracting locals and visitors alike, you’d swear there was a “who can hold the biggest parade in honor of Keungkai” contest when the new year comes around. It gets absolutely crazy.

6. What do you love about your writing style?

I really like my description. As much as I like to complain, I think it’s the strongest part of my prose writing.

7. What do you love about your own personal style?

Over the years, I’ve slowly leaned into the idea that the only person who has to like what I wear is me. So I’ve started wearing more jewelry and crop tops and in general a lot more stuff that shows skin because I feel comfortable in it. And it’s been awesome! I’m having the best time!!

8. In what kind of environment are you happiest?

One that’s quiet and lets me write whenever I want. Also a cat. It should also be raining.

9. How would you write a coffee shop AU of your WIP?

Oh this is the perfect question. The immediate two I have ideas for is TGDW and Dragon Raising, for wildly different reasons.

The God-Dragon’s Wife, obviously, it’s because ~romance~ and I love these two. Xinya is totally an important political person or whatever who comes to this one coffee shop because it’s like 2am because it’s the only place open and she needs a break from paperwork. There’s exactly one (1) other person in the shop that isn’t an employee, and it’s this woman (Yu-Qi) sitting on one of the tables – like on the table, not in a chair – and she says, “the moon told me we’re going to be married one day.” Because it’s 2am and Xinya really does not have the energy for this, she just goes “that’s nice” and continues about her business. Except she is not left to herself for long because moon-lady is insistent on striking up a conversation. Xinya indulges her politely and leaves very fast. But she keeps? Going back? To the coffee shop??? To talk to Yu-Qi???? And doesn’t really get it until it’s too late and she goes oh no. Anyway, someone needs to write that for me once the book is published sdfghjk

For Dragon Raising, I’m just imagining Hayden trying to run a coffee shop while also having to bring his pet dragons to work because he can’t leave them alone in his apartment and it turns out they’re very helpful in the kitchen. A slice-of-life, dragon café story. I’d read it.

10. Sweatpants or leggings? Why?

Depends! I live in Florida, so wearing sweatpants outside is usually a bad idea, but I wear them when I lounge around inside all the time. I prefer leggings when I go out, so I don’t die of heatstroke.

11. What feeds your creative energy?

C O N S U M I N G.

But for real, I get creativity by sucking in media and spitting back out my ideas. Whether that’s a show, a movie, a book, a comic, a game, literally whatever, I get so much inspiration and energy by seeing what others have done and incorporating it into my own works. Even if I dislike it, I can look at whatever made me go sour and think, “Okay, now I know what I won’t do in my next idea.”