#the reason this exists is someone inadvertently daring me to write a story about a scary clown who isn't a murderer or a monster

[dyrewrites]

In honor of WiP Wednesday...clowns?

I shared a little of this one before, but there's more now, so you're getting more. It's not explicit but it might be suggestive, and a long snip, as this is everything I have so far.

Warning, it is silly and weird and I've no explanation for a single bit of it. But under the cut goes the clown horror wip...that isn't horror quite yet but certainly teasing it.

Enjoy?

--

I never cared for clowns. Not because of any phobias related, or even bad memories. There was simply something off about a man in that much face paint and lycra smiling all the time.

You read right, lycra.

The clown staring at me from across the party last night was either going for a sexy interpretation or mixing up the circus and a King's court. In monochrome even, which was somehow worse.

A jester in black lycra with over-sized buttons, a jingling hat and a bright red nose. His face was painted white, with a big black exaggerated smile and matching hearts smeared over his eyes. Hair tucked up in the hat with all of his skin covered by that lycra mess, its color too dark to gauge any real body beneath. 

He was a jester-shaped hole in reality, with comically large white gloves floating in nothing and that stupid nose glowing in a glaring lack of color.

And he was staring. At me.

A trick of the lights made his wide eyes as red as the nose, but he was definitely staring...and dancing. Gloves flashing around in a blur as he approached. I wanted to ignore the attempt but damnit if he wasn’t on rhythm. Never mind the goofy grin, infectious through the greasy black smear of lips.

Try as I might to scoff, to sneer, he made me smile long before he reached me.

God, I hate clowns.

A testament, really, to his skill. Or the sinewy muscles and broad shoulders made clearer when he stopped a few feet away.

To bow with flourish, “Good sir knight, might I share your company?”

Eloquent, near-cooed, and I should have noticed how easily I heard him over the pounding bass of the music.

But I was too focused on the words.

See, I’d come to the party dressed as a black knight. In real armor, well, custom made of a light alloy. Had a friend with her own forge and an obsessive love affair with all things middle ages. It wouldn’t have withstood a joust or anything—too thin, meant to be a show I could dance in—but it was real, down to the chain mail shirt underneath.

Which is to say I’d heard those exact words all night from all manner of clowns. But none dressed like one, so I accepted. In character, as clearly that was what we were doing, right?

Playing parts.

“And why would one such as I wish to be seen with a fool?”

“Fair point, good sir, fair point...but you’ve not seen me dance.”

It was a dumb game, but a fun one. Back and forth we went, speaking in nonsense versions of what we assumed our costumes represented. Then we danced.

And the fool wasn’t playing around, he could dance. We became a spectacle for it, as I couldn’t keep up, resigning to my position as ‘pole’ while he slithered and writhed and gyrated around me. On me. So close I could feel his pulse through the tight, thin fabric he wore. Fabric I ached to tear off him before the song ended…

A desire he stoked by ending with his tongue on mine. So quick he grabbed and so quick I sunk. Warm, wet and ever so slightly tingling that kiss.

But he broke it, if slow and sweet, to ask, “does sir knight wish to retire to bedchambers, and continue our dance?”

In character still. A damned delight it was, truly, as it was to play along, “thou art a faster moving fool than I am accustomed.”

��Mm, sir knight speaks true,” more delicious teases of tongue on my ear, gloves too warm toying with my hair as he cooed, “yet he has not answered.”

Gasping for the voice so close, and perhaps the knee so gently placed between my legs, I didn’t keep quite to character, “God yes.”

We were serenaded by howls when he giggled and lifted me to his hips...to walk me out of the house we’d been in. I can’t even remember whose house it was, if I knew them or not. It was just one of those things you hear about on Halloween, you know?

“Hey, there’s a party going on over here. Free beer.”

Magic words those.

Magic clown too, far as I was concerned, what with how he managed to pick me up so easily. My armor was no light affair and I’m no small man, but he seemed to be. Then again, it could be all the free beer muddying my recollection.

Would explain what followed.

I don’t remember much of the ride home, but I remember it was my home we were headed to in a ride that I didn’t pay for with hands and lips and tongues continuing their salacious assault. Those gloves seemed to peel away with his touch of me, whenever they touched skin I felt skin. Heat and pulse and sweat, not the cheap fabric and stuffing they appeared to be.

All of his costume operated that way. I wanted to taste his neck, his chest, and the lycra slid open to accommodate. His face paint didn’t come off, didn’t even smear, but I took it all the same. Splashes of black and white stained my hands, probably my lips—hard to tell when they’re attached to someone else.

He carried me into my apartment too, slamming into walls with every rough grind into him I insisted on. No words. It goes that way sometimes, and I didn’t think much of it, but we didn’t speak beyond our play at the party.

Until I’d managed to get a key in the door and we collapsed onto my couch. He was so quick. On his knees before me in a flash, gloves running rough up my legs, over all the soft cloth I wore under all my metals—not quite authentic for the armor, but I worked with what I had.

[letterboxd]

In Focus: Interstellar.

Inspired by Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar placing high across three notable Letterboxd metrics, Dominic Corry reflects on how the film successfully hung its messaging around the concept of love—and what pandemic responses worldwide could learn from its wholehearted embrace of empathetic science.

“Love isn’t something we invented. It’s observable, it’s powerful. It has to mean something.” —Dr. Amelia Brand (Anne Hathaway)

This story contains spoilers for ‘Interstellar’ (2014).

Although it is insultingly reductionist to both filmmakers, there are many reasons Christopher Nolan is often described as a modern-day Stanley Kubrick. The one most people usually settle on is the notion that both men supposedly make exacting, ambitious films that lack emotion.

It is an incorrect assessment of either director, but it’s beyond amazing that anyone could still accuse Nolan of such a thing after he delivered what is unquestionably his masterwork, the emotional rollercoaster that is 2014’s Interstellar.

In the epic sci-fi adventure drama, Nolan managed to pull off something that many filmmakers have attempted and few have achieved. He told a story of boundless sci-fi scope, and had it be all about love in the end. It sounds cheesy to even write it down, but Nolan did it.

That Interstellar is such an overtly cutting-edge genre film that chooses to center itself so brazenly and unapologetically around love, is frankly awesome.

Love informs Interstellar both metaphorically and literally: the expansive scope of the film effectively represents love’s infinite potential, and love itself ends up being the tangible thread that allows far-flung astronaut Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) to communicate with his Earth-bound daughter Murph (played as an adult by Jessica Chastain) from the tesseract (a three-dimensional rendering of a five-dimensional space) after Cooper enters the black hole towards the end of the film.

Matthew McConaughey as Joseph ‘Coop’ Cooper, Mackenzie Foy as Murph, and Timothée Chalamet as Tom.

In transmitting (via morse code) what the robot TARS has observed from inside the black hole, Cooper provides Murph with the data to solve the gravity problem required to uplift Earth’s population from its depleted home planet. Humanity is saved. Love wins again. Hard sci-fi goes soft. Christopher Nolan’s genius is confirmed, and any notions of emotionlessness are emphatically washed away.

This earnest centering of love in Interstellar is key to the film’s universal appeal, and undoubtedly plays a large role in why it features so prominently in three significant Letterboxd lists determined by pronoun: Interstellar is the only film that appears in all three top tens of “most fans on Letterboxd” when considering members who use the pronoun he/him, she/her and xe/ze. (“Most fans” refers to Letterboxd members who have selected the film as one of the four favorites on their profile.)

To get a bit reductionist myself, sci-fi adventure—in cinema, at least—has traditionally been a masculine-leaning genre, but Interstellar’s placement across these three lists points to it having superseded that traditional leaning, hopefully for the better.

Yet the film reliably still provokes reactions like this delightful tweet:

few movies make me as mad as Interstellar. who the fuck makes 3/4 of an excellent hard sci-fi movie backed up by actual science and then abruptly turns it into soft sci-fi about how the power of love and time traveling bookshelves can save us in the final 1/4? damn you, Nolan

— the thicc husband & father (@lukeisamazing)

February 13, 2021

Although this tweet is somewhat indicative of how many men (and women, for that matter) respond to the film, I think it’s pretty clear the writer actually loves Interstellar wholeheartedly, final quarter and all, but perhaps feels inhibited from expressing that love by the expectations of a gendered society that is becoming increasingly outdated. The “damn you, Nolan” is possibly a concession of sorts—he’s damning how Nolan really made him feel the love at the end. It’s okay, @lukeisamazing, you don’t have to say it out loud.

Conversely, it can be put like this:

“The emotion of Interstellar is three-fold: Nolan’s script, co-written with his brother as with all his best stuff, masters not only notions of black holes, wormholes, quantum data and telemetry, but it also makes a case for love as the one thing—feeling, fact, movement, message—that can mean more and do more than anyone in our current time, on our existing planet, can comprehend.”

The writer of this stirring summation, our own Ella Kemp, is paraphrasing a critical section of the film, when Nolan goes full literal on the concept of love and has Cooper and Dr Amelia Brand (Anne Hathaway) debate its very nature, quoted in part at the top of this story. It comes when the pair are trying to decide which potentially humanity-saving planet to use their dwindling fuel reserves to travel to. Brand is advocating for the planet where a man she loves might be waiting for her, instead of the planet that has ostensibly better circumstances for life.

Brand: “Love is the one thing we’re capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space. Maybe we should trust that even if we can’t understand it.”

“Love has meaning, yes,” responds Cooper, heretofore the film’s most outwardly love-centric character, exhibiting a stoic longing for his dead wife, while also abandoning his ten-year-old daughter on Earth for a space adventure (albeit one designed to save humanity) than has now inadvertently taken decades. “Social utility. Social bonding. Child rearing.” Ouch.

McConaughey with Anne Hathaway as Dr. Amelia Brand.

Brand: “You love people who have died. Where’s the social utility in that? Maybe it means something more. Something we don’t yet understand. Some evidence, some artefact of a higher dimension that we can’t consciously perceive. I’m drawn across the universe to someone I haven’t seen in a decade who I know is probably dead. Love is the one thing we’re capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space. Maybe we should trust that even if we can’t understand it yet.” Amen.

Cooper remains unconvinced by Brand’s rationale, but this dispassionate display presages him going on to realize the true (literal) power of love (and his poor, science-only decision-making—thanks Matt Damon) when it provides him the aforementioned channel of communication with Murph in the tesseract. Nolan has a female character make the most eloquent vocal argument for love, but it’s the male character who has to learn it through experience.

So while Interstellar does initially conform to some prevailing cultural ideas about love and how it supposedly relates to gender, it ultimately advocates for a greater appreciation of the concept that moves beyond such binary notions. That is reflected in how important the film is to Letterboxd members who self-identify as he/him, she/her and xe/ze. We all love this movie. Emphasis on love.

Brand’s speech—not to mention the film as a whole—also can’t help but inform the current global situation. Interstellar argues for a greater devotion to both science and love, in harmony; such devotion might have mitigated the devastating effects of the coronavirus pandemic where both concepts were drastically undervalued by many of those in charge of the response.

Jessica Chastain and Casey Affleck as the grown-up Cooper siblings.

Despite the reactions cited above, responses to Interstellar aren’t always split down gender lines. We’re all allowed to feel whatever we like about it, and substantial variety comes across in the many, many reviews for the film.

Zaidius says Interstellar is so good that, “after watching [it], you will want to downgrade all of the ratings you have ever given on Letterboxd.”

On the other hand, Singlewhitefemalien takes issue with Dr. Brand’s aforementioned love-based decision-making in her two-star review: “She wants to fuckin’ go to Planet Whatever to chase after a dude she banged ten years ago because women are guided by their emotions and love is all you need.” A perhaps fair assessment of the role Nolan chose his sole female astronaut to play in the film?

Sam offers food for thought when he writes “First, you love Interstellar; then you understand Interstellar.”

Letterboxd stalwart Lucy boils it down effectively in one of her multiple five-star reviews of the film: “I needed a really good cry.” It’s hard to say whether Vince is agreeing or disagreeing with Lucy in his review: “Fuck you Matthew McConaughey for making me cry.” The catharsis this movie provides for dudes becomes clearer the deeper you venture into our Interstellar reviews (and I ventured deep): “How dare this fucking movie make me cry… twice,” writes John. Let it out, John.

Then there’s Rudi’s take: “I sobbed like an animal while watching this but I’m not exactly sure what animal it was like. Like a pig? Like a whale? I don’t know but I do know that I cried a whole fucking lot.”

Emotionless? With all this crying?

Christopher Nolan inspires more debate than any other filmmaker of the modern age (when we’re not getting unnecessarily riled up about something Marty has said, that is) and while Nolan has the passionate devotion of millions of viewers, I’d argue he still doesn’t quite get his due. Especially when it comes to Interstellar.

By so successfully using love as both a metaphorical vessel and a palpable plot point in a sci-fi adventure film, he built on notable antecedents like James Cameron’s The Abyss and Robert Zemeckis’ Contact, two (great) films with similar aspirations that didn’t stick the landing as well as Interstellar does. In Contact, McConaughey engages in a similar debate about love to the one quoted above, but notably takes the opposing side.

Steven Spielberg (who at one point was going to direct an earlier iteration of Interstellar) did a pretty good job of showing love as the most powerful force in the universe with E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, but there hasn’t been a huge amount of room for such notions in the genre since then.

Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, Interstellar’s most obvious forebear, is often accused of being the director’s most brazenly emotionless film. And while that’s perhaps a bit more understandable than some of the brickbats hurled Nolan’s way, there’s more emotion in the character of Hal 9000 than in many major directors’ entire oeuvre. It’s also, in part due to Hal’s place in the examination of queer consciousness in the sci-fi realm, the film currently in the number one spot on the xe/ze list.

Two films that notably exist in Interstellar’s wake are Denis Villeneuve’s Arrival, which expands upon Interstellar’s creative use of time-bending (and like Contact, features a female protagonist) and James Gray’s Ad Astra, which tackles the perils of traditional masculinity with more directness.

Interstellar doesn’t solve the sci-fi genre’s cumbersome relationship with masculinity and gender, but it makes significant strides in breaking down the existing paradigms, if only from all the GIFs of McConaughey crying it has spawned. Its appeal across the gender spectrum is an interesting and encouraging sign of the universality of its themes. And the power of love.

Fans out of touch with their feelings may complain about the role love plays in the film, but that says more about them than it does the film. Love wins. Also: TARS. How could anyone not love TARS?

TARS and Christopher Nolan.

Related content

Men/Boys Crying: a master list

“I Ugly-Cried Like Matthew McConaughey in Interstellar”: Amanda’s list

“I Liked Interstellar”: Sar’s list of what to watch afterwards

Follow Dominic on Letterboxd

[gaycrouton]

Please please please because you are so good at smut and also at Msr humorous exchanges write the prompt #34 “During 'Three of a Kind' drugged Scully thinks she is a stripper dressed as an FBI agent. The Gunmen keep her from stripping by telling her the bachelor of honor hasn't arrived yet. Mulder then arrives, and they leave him to deal with a stripping Scully” if I have to beg let me know I’ll do it!! You are my favorite writer on here! Thank you for existing 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

DEAR ANON, thank you so so much for your kind words! You’re too kind! ALSO, I apologize this literally took me like eight months to answer. I hope you’re still here. 

This was in response to the @xfpornbattle ‘s battle in December I think? I wrote a different “Three of a Kind” story then, so I tried to make this one as different as I could. Here’s a link to the other story, but I hope I did this justice you kind kind anon! Illicit Desires Link Here

————————————————

“I don’ wanna wear this costume anymore,” she pouted with a playful lilt, smiling after successfully undoing the third button of her shirt after twenty minutes of struggling. 

A chorus of ‘No’s and ‘Jesus Christ’s erupted from the three men before Byers grabbed her hands and gently dragged them away from herself. “Scully,” he stated like an angry parent. “Stop trying to take off your clothes.”

“But isn’t this wha’ you want?” she teased, leaning forward to kiss Beyers who let go of her like she was on fire.

“He’s going to kill us. Simple as that. Mulder is going to get here and murder each and every one of us,” Beyers moaned, rubbing his hands over his face as Scully giggled and fumbled with her fourth button.

Byers had ended up calling Mulder shortly after they lured Scully here, he just was too afraid of what the redheaded agent’s reaction would be that he felt it imperative that Mulder come to act as a barrier. He could tell Scully was beginning to tolerate, maybe he could even dare to say like, them, but he knew for a fact she wouldn’t blow up on them as much if Mulder was here to talk her down.

But that was before she was drugged.

Now not only did they have to deal with a drugged up Special Agent Dana Scully whom seemed to think her work attire was an outfit for a strip tease, who undoubtedly would tell them all off in the morning, but Mulder was due any time now. However mad Scully would be about her situation was eclipsed by the hellfire her short tempered partner was sure to enact on them when he saw the state she was in.

“I thought the shot would counteract the anoitic effect or whatever,” Langley stated while they all watched Scully struggle to pull herself upright on the bed.

“That’s what Suzanne said,” Beyers exclaimed as she continued struggling with the button that would turn a disheveled appearance into an indecent one. 

“Where is she anyway? I think a feminine influence would be better for this type of situation,” Frohike asked nervously, trying to avoid gawking at Scully.

“Oh no, I broke it!” Scully whined from the bed, holding the button out for Beyers to take from her.

“Scully, please,” he pled, taking it from her as she used his arm as leverage to stand up.

“But issa party!” she proclaimed with a giggle. 

“Scully, scully,” Langley repeated, trying to get her attention and ended up inadvertently holding her in his arms, careening his head away from her attempt to snuggle him. “You have to wait to take off any of your clothes until the guest of honor gets here, okay?”

“What are you-” Beyers started, stopping short as Langley shot him a look.

“Who’s that?” Scully asked, kicking off her shoes haphazardly. 

“Your partner, Fox Mulder. Tall, broody, and comley,” he told her.

“Oh Muldey!” she exclaimed with a beaming smile. 

“Yeah, do you know who he is?” Langley asked slowly.

“He’s my favorite person in the whole wide world,” she confessed dramatically.

“You’re his favorite too, which is why you need to stay dressed okay? When he gets here you can strip as much as you want,” Langely replied, trying to direct her to sit down with no avail.

“Langley!” Beyers chastised. Last he’d heard, Mulder still hadn’t made any sort of move on Scully nor her on him.

“What? Like he’d care,” Langely replied, watching as Scully slipped out of his grasp. 

“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly before focusing on Frohike who was sitting in a chair trying to track the data they’d gotten. She took a few lazy steps towards him until she was close enough to sit on his lap and wrap her arms around his neck. “But can we have some fun before he comes?” she asked, hugging Frohike’s head against her breasts.

“What the fuck is going on?” an angry voice shouted from the entryway. They all turned in time to see one fuming Fox Mulder standing in front of Suzanne. 

“I’m sorry, I thought this was your friend,” Suzanne apologized as she walked behind Mulder’s thunderous footsteps.

“He is,” the three replied in unison.

“Muldey, you’re here!” Scully beamed from her seat on Frohike. Her enthusiasm caused Mulder to falter and shoot Frohike a look of pure confusion. They all stayed still in rigid anticipation of what was to happen next. Scully, oblivious to it all, raised her hands towards Mulder and exclaimed, “Happy Birthday!”

“What the hell did you guys do to her?” he asked, taking one of her hands in his own and helping her off of Melvin’s lap and into his arms.

“She was drugged,” Frohike responded, trying to conceal his blush.

“She was what?” Mulder exclaimed, jumping in surprise when she leaned up to press a kiss to his throat. 

“It’s a long story,” Beyers sighed. “But she was given an anecdote, so it should wear off relatively soon,” he explained.

“I missed you sooooooo much,” Scully whined, drawing his attention away from the three men and back to the petite redhead swaying in his arms.

“I missed you too,” Mulder reassured quietly, moving his hands to stabilize her before looking back at Beyers. “Is she okay?”

“Yes,” Suzanne spoke up. “The drug will wear off relatively soon, she just needs to sleep it off. Anoitic histamine impedes higher brain functions. It promotes suggestibility which is why she’s acting different.”

“Different? She seems completely out of it!” Mulder exclaimed, trying to keep his voice neutral for Scully, but his worry permeating through nonetheless. 

“Anoitic histamine is often used for mind control. Brain washing,” Suzanne explained.

Scully giggled and held tighter onto Mulder, burying her face in his chest which he acknowledged but only seemed to get more anxious about. “And why the hell was someone trying to get her in this state?” Mulder seethed.

“Well not everyone who is inflicted turns into a bimbo,” Frohike responded. “It’s not what you’re probably thinking.”

“What did you just say?” Mulder barked, turning around with Scully attached to him. 

“Oh no, Muldey’s mad,” Scully proclaimed with a mock expression of anger that was too cute to be in anyway intimidating. 

Mulder let out a frustrated sigh before putting a hand on her back to get her attention. “No-no I’m not mad, Scully. I’m just worried about you,” he mumbled sweetly, obviously only wanting her to hear that, but the room was too small for it not to be broadcast to everyone else.

“What Melvin meant was that whoever did this didn’t mean for her to get in this state to take advantage of her. They probably wanted to get her in this state so she would be too airheaded, sorry,” he added at Mulder’s glare, “-to finish the autopsy.”

“Autopsy?” Mulder repeated.

“Wait, you mean-?” Frohie said at the same time.

“Yeah. I don’t think she was jet lagged like Langley thought. I think they injected her sometime around then so she couldn’t determine cause of death.”

“Beeeeeeeeep,” Scully exclaimed from her position on Mulder’s chest.

Mulder let out an aggravated huff as he figured out his next move. “Listen,” he demanded, looking at Beyers. “I want to know everything that went on, but taking care of her is my first-” he got distracted as he looked down and saw Scully unbuttoning his shirt. He reached up and grabbed her hand, halting her motions, much to her dismay. “-my first priority. She will be okay right? This is only temporary?” he asked.

“She just needs to sleep,” Beyers nodded.

“Not that that’ll be happening anytime soon,” Langley joked.

“Do I need to do anything?” Mulder asked, trying to back away from Scully who was still trying to undo his shirt. 

“I’d just make sure she didn’t escape to the bar downstairs. There’s a line of men dying for her to come back,” Frohike said severely.

“What-” Mulder started defensively before getting distracted by Scully’s hands on his face. “Wh-what do you need, Scully?” he asked in a much gentler tone, giving her his full attention.

“I don’ wanna wear this anymore,” she whined, pulling at her shirt.

Mulder’s gaze followed down to her partially-exposed breasts before shooting back up. “Oh yeah,” Langley added. “She thinks she’s a stripper for some reason.”

“Excuse me?” Mulder asked, grabbing her hands in his own again to prevent her from taking off a fifth button. 

“Long story, but she’s been excited to see you,” Langley responded, holding in a laugh as Mulder turned red as Scully loudly proclaimed words of affection at him.

“You’re so han’some Muldey. I missed you so much. I’m so glad y-you’re here. Can we go han’ out?” she rambled, swaying back in forth in what looked to be an attempt to get Mulder to dance with her.

“O-okay, Scully. We’ll go,” he reassured, wrapping an arm around her middle and walking her to the door.

“We’re not done with this conversation,” Mulder said severely, walking out the door Suzanne was propping open for them.

“Good luck,” Langley shouted out as the door closed before turning to the remaining people in the room and stating, “He has no idea what he’s in for.”

XXXXXXXXXX

“Scully, please,” he begged for what felt like the hundredth time since they’d entered his room all but five minutes ago.

“Aw come on Muldey, I jus’ wanna have some fun with you,” she cooed, tantalizingly swaying her hips side to side like a drunken metronome. 

For some damn reason, she was under the impression she needed to give him a striptease. He’d tried unsuccessfully in the elevator to button her shirt back up, but one of the buttons was missing and she’d just kept pushing her chest out so that his fingers would end up grazing her breasts. 

Now that they were in his hotel room, she was insatiable. 

He was sitting on the edge of the bed she’d pushed him on and was watching with fascinated anxiety as she continued unbuttoning, more accurately - ripping, her blouse. Scully didn’t wear undershirts. Noted. Each undone button deepened the ivory line that was as dangerous as it was tantalizing, the only break was a thin black strip in between the valley of her breasts.  

It was a Catch 22, if he got up to stop her, she’d be all over him, but if he sat here and watched her, he felt like he was taking advantage of her. He was going to have to ask Frohike what exactly happened in the hotel lobby, because when he tried to ignore her, she’d threaten to go down there. Short of trying her to the bedm which he was not going to do, he was at a loss. 

“Scully, can we watch a movie or something?” he asked as she ungracefully pulled her shirt out of her skirt to gain access to the remaining buttons. 

She shushed him before taking a few stumbling steps towards him, now making her close enough for her perfume to waft towards him. When she’d pushed him on the bed earlier ‘to get a front row seat’, he immediately grabbed a pillow and kept it on his lap the whole time. Having her all over him and acting so affectionate was having more of an effect on him than he cared to let her know.

She managed to get the last few buttons off and with a squeal of excitement, she shed the blouse to the floor, leaving her in a black skirt and a matching black lacy bra. Fuck.

“Scully, I have some spare clothes in my bag, you can use one of my shirts as a nightgown,” he offered, suddenly taking great interest in the painting of a poppy field on the wall.

Ziiippp

He glanced over just in time to see her bending over and trying to step out of her skirt. However, her balance was shit right now and he saw her careening over right next to the sharp edge of a countertop. “Scully, hey,” he shouted, jumping off the bed and grabbing her upper arms to prevent her from hitting her head or falling. 

She used his support to stand up fully and look up at him with a beaming smile that made his throat clench. “Awwh, are you tryin’ to sweep me off my feet?” she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body flush against his own.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he replied honestly, trying to reign in a groan building at the back of his throat from how good her abdomen felt against his erection.

“You’re funny,” she snickered. “You don’ wanna hurt me but you’re stabbin’ me.”

He cocked his head to the side before realizing what she meant. He grabbed her arms and gently pushed her away at the same time he concaved his hips away from her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Noooooo,” she whined uncharacteristically. “I liked it.”

He let out a slow breath as he realized she was now clad in only her bra and underwear. She wore cheeky, tiny underwear. Duly Noted. “You won’t like it in the morning.”

She took a step towards him, and he took a step backwards. This pattern continued until his legs were flush against the bed and he fell on his ass on it. Scully used this opportunity to step in between his spread legs and reach behind her back, pushing her breasts in his face. “I think I will,” she nodded.

It took him a moment to realize what she was struggling to do, and his hands instantly shot out to still her movements. The last thing he needed was for her bare tits to be directly in his face. “You’re killing me,” he exhaled, not knowing what to do.

Scully pouted her bottom lip at her worry and let her hands fall. “Do you need a hug, Muldey?” she asked. 

Before he had a chance to say no, she wrapped her arms around his head and pulled him to her chest, effectively smashing his face in between her breasts. Her creamy smooth breasts that felt pillow soft against his cheeks and lips and smelled torturously like her. “I loooooove you,” she beamed, swiveling in place so that her chest kept rubbing against him constantly.

“Mpfhsully,” he mumbled against her skin, placing his hands on her hips in an attempt to get her to still. Oddly, in this moment he was reminded of what Clyde Bruckman had told him all those years ago. Would suffocating in Scully’s breasts count as auto erotic asphyxiation? 

“I don’ want you to be sad,” she confided in a comically sad voice.

He was able to pull back enough to say, “I’m not sad, Scully. I promise.” His affirmation seemed to make her happy because her frown quickly became a smile. At the same time he smiled back to placate her, he noticed the straps of her bra slide down her shoulders. Shit.

She hadn’t stopped earlier because she was distracted, she stopped because she’d unclasped it. He leaned away in an attempt to get away, but the movement only resulted in the bra straps coming to rest in the crooks of her arms, revealing her rosy tipped breasts to him. His cock ached at the sight and he had to close his eyes to tune out the sensory overload going on. “Do you not like them?” her sad voice asked, so much vulnerability coming through despite the drug that it broke his heart. 

“They’re very nice, Scully. I just don’t think you really want me to see them,” he replied. They’re perfect, Scully would’ve been a more accurate response, but he’ll keep that to himself.

“I always wan’ you to look at them,” she argued. 

He felt a hardened nipple graze his cheek and he jumped violently in response, opening his eyes and seeing she’d managed to get closer. He’d always pictured being in this position before, but usually he got to put her mouth on her rather than careen away. This was the ultimate cruelty, Scully was finally making a move on him and he couldn’t do a damn thing. He’d never forgive himself if he took advantage of her while she was vulnerable.

While he was looking around for something else to pay attention to while he lectured her, she’d reached down and grabbed his hand and had pulled it up to her chest, resulting in him cupping one of her breasts. The weight of it in his hand felt amazing, but he pulled away immediately. “Stop doing that,” he chastised lightly, not wanting to hurt her feelings. He was learning drugged Scully had a tendency to pout and openly declare her sadness - two things sober Scully never did. Thank god for that too, because he was quickly learning it was his weakness. 

“Why?” she asked, sliding one leg onto the bed next to his so that she was half-straddling him.

“Because you aren’t you right now, and I won’t let you do anything you’d regret,” he replied. Too late.

“I am me right now,” she argued, trying to get her other leg up but not having the energy to do so, resulting in her swaying and grabbing Mulder’s shoulders for balance. 

“You’ve been drugged, Scully,” he told her sternly, trying to jostle her leg back down so he could stand up.

She made an exaggerated gasping sound as if this was news to her. “That’s awful!”

“I know,” he responded with just as much enthusiasm, as if confiding a secret with her.

“S-so,” she started as he stood up fully and switched positions with her, sitting her on the bed so he could grab his bag. She seemed to be struggling with her words and he could see a line of frustration wrinkling her forehead. “So, we can’ have any fun?” she asked sadly.

“We can have fun, Scully,” he replied, tossing the bag next to her on the bed before unzipping it. “Just fun that involves us wearing clothes.”

She whined and fell backwards onto the bed, letting her arms splay out at her sides. Oh how he’d imagined that exact visage so many times. She rolled her head to the side so she could look at him over her breast. “Can I see your penis?”

He let out a huff of shock as his eyes widened. “What?” 

“We’d be even. You got to see my boobs,” she explained, lifting her arms up to squish her breasts together in emphasis as if he could have ever possibly forgotten what they looked like. 

“I told you not to show me your boobs, so that’s on you. Besides, my penis wouldn’t be nearly as pretty, so it’s not an even trade,” he replied, barely believing this was an actual conversation he was having right now.

At that, she sat up and scooted closer to him, so she was flush with the bag. “Hey,” she declared, trying to get his attention.

“Yes, Scully?” he deadpanned, wishing he’d packed some sleeping pills or anything that might calm her down.

“Look a’ me,” she demanded.

With a heavy sigh, he stilled his motion in the bag and looked directly in her eyes to appease her. She had her face set in the most stern, no-nonsense Scully look he’d ever seen, but it was like a caricature version of herself that was so endearing he had to bite back a smile. 

Pleased that she had his attention, she reached up and grabbed the sides of his head carelessly. She leaned forward and he wanted to laugh at how seriously she wanted him to take her words. “I don’ wan’ you to doubt yourself,” she demanded. His forehead crinkled in confusion, but before he could as what she meant, she added, “You have a very pretty penis.”

Jesus Christ.

“You’ve never seen it,” he retorted. “And no penis is pretty.”

She nodded her head exaggeratedly. “Yes I have. Well, not like that,” she said, pointing to his erection. “But I’ve seen you fl-flaccid and it was very nice. I don’ like hearing you be down on yourself, Muller. Everythin’ about you is pretty,” she reassured.

Dana Kathrine Scully giving him a drugged lecture on body positivity, Vegas really was as wild as people said. “Okay, thank you, Scully. I appreciate that.”

Accepting his statement, she nodded and let her hands fall into her lap. Now that whatever that was had passed, he was able to find one of his nicer t-shirts for her to wear and he pulled it out of the bag. It was barely visible fpr all of three seconds before Scully whined, “Noooooooo.”

“Scully, you need to wear something for bed,” he stated.

“Not that one!” she demanded.

He sighed and set it back in the bag. “Okay, which do you want?”

“The Oxford one,” she replied almost immediately. 

He quirked a brow in surprise, but looked for it regardless. “But it’s worn out and got holes in it.”

“But i’s my favorite shirt of yours. You-” she broke to hiccup. “You wear it when we hang out an’-an’ it looks so good on you.”

The statement made him curious as to how much of sober Scully was actually coming through in this conversation. Deciding not to give it too much thought, he found the shirt and passed it to her, only to have her raise her arms over her head. He decided to indulge her and rolled up the shirt so he could drape it over her with minimal touching. When it fell down on her, he brushed his hand across her neck so he could untuck her hair from underneath the shirt. 

She smiled sweetly at him before yawning and turning around to crawl up the bed. He’d never been so happy to see someone yawn before. “Hey!” she called as he set the bag on the ground. He turned to look at her and she violently patted the bed next to her. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Find something on TV okay?” he told her, hoping to distract her while he changed into his pyjamas - which was just his undershirt and boxers. It luckily worked and he was sliding under the covers within a minute, free of any sexually suggestive comments from the peanut gallery.

She left it on Die Hard and snuggled into the bed, turning so she was facing him. “Thank you for taking care of me Muldey,” she murmured, succumbing to her exhaustion with heavy lids. 

“Of course. It was about time I tried to repay the favor,” he laughed.

Her lips quirked and he felt like he could finally enjoy looking at her. Her hair was spilling out onto the pillow and the reflections from the tv were casting shadows on her serene face. Somehow this felt even more intimate than when he was defacto motorboating her earlier. She mumbled something but he couldn’t quite hear. “What was that Scully?”

“You really are my favorite. You know that right?” she mumbled a little louder, reaching her hand out to grab his.

He let her fingers interlaced in his as he watched her nose twitch. He had no idea what she was talking about, but felt touched nonetheless.

“You’re my favorite too, Scully,” he replied to her sleeping form, placing a kiss to her temple before watching her for just a while longer. 

Much like she’d watch him when she woke up, a smile tugging at her lips at the endless ways her partner managed to make her fall for him.

[bat-lings]

I love everyone in the batfam no matter how problematic, but the Rhato 25 discourse bothered me. As a Bruce fan I didn't like the complete crucifixion of his character by the Jason diehards. Personally I feel Bruce was justified (the brutality felt like a publicity stunt for shock value, which I didn't like), but seeing these same fans (that hate Bruce for daring to hurt their fav) then celebrate when Jason did the exact same thing to Damian in the teen titans annual. It's so hypocritical.

Oh, Anon, I fear you inadvertently put the finger on the exact thing I despise about current storylines. I agree in that they’re taking the shock value too far and that every character suffers for it.

Frankly, I have more of a problem with what the fans are served than with how they reacted to it.

Fair warning, I’m gonna get very critical with the writing of the two events Anon mentioned. I’d be extra interested to hear about those events from the perspective of someone who actually enjoyed them, but it’s not worth your good mood if reading a post basically trashing said storylines upsets you.

I’ll respectfully disagree about Bruce’s behavior towards Jason. It was excessively brutal and nothing justified it. The scene can be summed up to shock value, to the point it would need to be entirely rewritten to exonerate Bruce. Jason relapsed into lethal force for understandable reasons. Even if we consider nothing excuses Jason; even in an alternative scenario where he’d have shot the Penguin out of the blue, Bruce’s behavior would be plain wrong.

Bruce went after him, assaulted him, and kept on beating him while Jason wasn’t defending himself.

Let’s forget this was Jason for a second. This is not the kind of violence Bruce should resort to against any criminal. I don’t just mean that hey, this isn’t ideal morally speaking, I mean that Bruce Wayne, as a character, as the man who was always written to believe in redemption/rehabilitation, as the man who willed never to use lethal or even unnecessary force, can’t do this and pretend to be remotely what Bruce’s character is supposed to represent. I hate it every time Bruce is written to use that kind of empty violence, preboot or reboot. Miller went down that road too and it never fulfilled my idea of entertainment.

Then you add on the fact that Jason’s his son, and it makes it all so much worse. Bruce legit puts the blame on Jason, not only during the confrontation (“I told you if you left me it’d be your choice”), but also in a later issue when Lobdell serves us a disastrous attempt at a reconciliation scene. “I love you but you deserved a kick in the ass.” Like, I don’t think Lobdell could’ve portrayed a more abusive father-figure if he wanted to.

As a comparison, have similar confrontations between Bruce and Dick in preboot.

[Batman (1940) #600]

So here there’s an actual fight. Dick is actively participating rather than being used as Bruce’s punching-ball. Power-wise, they’re equals.

You want a true equivalent to the scene between Jason and Bruce, where Dick suffers from a power-imbalance + Bruce being toxic?

[New Titans (1988) #55]

Note how it doesn’t go further than a punch because it’s bad enough that way and doesn’t need to escalate further to drive the narrative home. There’s no “I love you but you deserved a punch” bullshit later on either.

Even in Teen Titans: Year One where Bruce was particularly terrible (too much imo), he’s brainwashed when he hits Dick and nothing in the story/framing exonerates Bruce for his global behavior.

Those confrontations had a place in their narratives other than shock value. Bruce’s descent after Jason’s death, his mental state in Murderer/Fugitive. They illustrate how fucked up Bruce is at a specific moment due to specific events and context. They’re not casually dismissed afterwards by a hug and a dubious line. And again, they don’t require Bruce to beat Dick half to death to drive their point home.

By the way, this is reconciliation.

[Batman (1940) #605]

This is a component of the circle of abuse.

[Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #27]

“I love you. If only you weren’t so stubborn, you wouldn’t deserve an occasional kick in the ass. Like when I inflicted you severe physical trauma. But I love you anyway. Aaah, the woes of father-son relationships!”

There was no narrative reason for Bruce to take it that far with Jason in rhato. It’s just physically more violent and emotionally less impactful, because it’s so damn cheap and because it tries to pass abuse for a normal familial dissension that can be cured with a hug. I can’t get emotionally engaged with that kind of writing.

It’s a reboot, it’s entitled to change characters, but it’s simply not a Bruce I recognize nor one whose existence I’m particularly eager to acknowledge.

As for the Jason-Damian confrontation…

I don’t care that Jason didn’t want to fight and tried so hard to de-escalate the situation until Damian pulled out that mystery drama-box. I don’t care that Damian’s a trained fighter. Frankly, I don’t care about the specifics. At the end of the day, an adult beat the shit out of a child. A child who was framed in earlier appearances to be his little brother. A writer/editorial team/whoever the hell made the conscious choice to put those characters in the specific situation where an adult would beat the shit of a child family member.

You know, for all that I hate TT#29 for its cheap violence (and Jason’s less than ideal portrayal), it at least had the decency to oppose two characters of roughly the same age. And in this continuity, Jason was revived to be a villain. I may not like it but it’s expected that he acts villainous towards the fam, or Tim here. Plus Tim and Jason were never ever portrayed as brothers in post-crisis. They’re strangers. Them beating each other simply doesn’t have the same significance.

Have another preboot parallel where neither perpetrators are villains.

[Red Robin #14]

Here the writer puts Tim in a situation where he has to defend himself against a ten-year-old. There’s a punch, and then the violence stops. That’s it. Much like the preboot Dick-Bruce confrontations, it doesn’t need to be taken further. The story delivers its point without any ten-year-old getting beaten senseless by an older ally.

Seriously, how does this…

[Batman (2016) #16]

…exist in the same continuity as this?

[Teen Titans Annual 1 (2019)]

How is this a good way to portray familial dissensions/confrontations of any kind?

You’re the writer. You decide if the 20 something is gonna throw hands with the 13 year old. You decide how the father figure reacts to the son’s actions. You decide how far each confrontation goes. You decide whether two characters that were explicitly portrayed as brothers are gonna bleed each other out. You decide whether the father figure is abusive. You decide what happens, how it happens, how it’s resolved, and how every element is framed.

Physical violence is just another narrative tool that should be used to construct a story. You can’t just throw it in, dial it up to 11, and hope it’ll make your scene impactful. It just proves you don’t know how to write a vivid scene without relying on cheap tricks.

Anon, I get your frustration, I don’t like what’s done of Bruce either. I made a post about his parental failures in preboot ( bat-lings.tumblr .com/post/180901354160/do-you-think-bruce-was-a-bad-father-im-starting); none of them ever reached rhato’s caricatural empty brutality. Bruce is less and less well received by fans as he’s sometimes instrumentalized in sequences that don’t fit his character. It’s not fair on him.

But I can’t seem to disconnect with what we are given long enough to worry about how we react to it. And to be fair I’ve seen as many posts hating on Jason’s recent actions than hating on Bruce’s.

Tbh bad writing/ooc-ness aside there’s little anyone can say to exonerate either character here. The fans are reacting vividly because they’re faced with a story that has little else to sell other than vivid brutality. We all go “gasp!”, pick sides, and that’s it. It’s hard to breed interesting discussion among fans with that configuration.

The good news is, each of those characters have seen better days, and not everything in reboot is as bad as the above sequences. Also we have fanfictions :D

[alteredphoenix]

Some random WoW/Fire Emblem: Three Houses X-Over I came up with on the fly (WIP)

A/N: I’ve never played Fire Emblem; seeing the characters appear in Super Smash Bros. Melee onwards always felt like an inclusion - at least, to a younger me - that felt peculiar at the time. (Also, I am quite awful at RTS games that aren’t online hero brawlers, and it’s the one reason why I haven’t touched Stronghold HD in years, but that is beside the point.) I never caught on with the games as I grew up, my interest was that ambivalent.

But then I started taking note of all the fan art of Three Houses on Twitter over the past month and became curious. To me, this game seemed - and would eventually, given its reception - as if it would be the most notable in its franchise. I don’t have a Switch to access it (and would rather not have to cave in and just hit up YouTube for a quick fix), but I had felt compelled to write something even if there is a good possibility my characterization might be off the mark.

So the first thing I decide to write - but certainly not the first: that’s reserved for FE3H fic where dogs are endangered species, the houses have to sponsor one breed to get them repopulated, and Edelgard decides to set the fucking world on fire just so she can gain fem!Byleth’s love by acquiring the fantasy equivalent of a Siberian Husky (because Byleth adores huskies and carries a tin full of husky/wolf figurines as tokens of good fortune, but said huskies are allegedly presumed extinct, so Black Eagles are the only house to be universally ridiculed for sponsoring an animal that may no longer exist) - is fem!Byleth winding up in World of Warcraft during the timeskip, becomes a fisherman, and inadvertently becomes the Pack Leader of all the hunter cats in Booty Bay because she feeds them bear tartare, raw fish, and kitty kibble on a daily basis, as seen through the eyes of a pair of human and goblin OCs running a fishing shack.

There was slightly more to this than what you see here, but the power got knocked out due to a strong thunderstorm passing through my area so consider this piece very WIP. (I still think about the “Vereesa embraces her inner troll and murks an innocent blood elf during the Purge of Dalaran” fic that got completely nuked a while back, and feel remorse for not saving the damn document.)

-

“Hey. Brody,” Melanie’s voice called, and when Brody looked up from where he sat at the desk it was to her stepping into the tiny office with a box full of bolts of cloth and other materials she had acquired all over the Bay. “Brody.”

“What?”

“She’s coming ‘round again.”

“Who?”

“You know.”

He blew a sigh upward, sending his long locks flying uselessly and getting in his eyes. “No, I don’t. When you say ‘she’, you could mean anyone.”

“Brody, you know exactly who I’m talking about!” Melanie plopped the box on the floor, put her hands on her hips, and leaned forward for extra emphasis on what she said next, in as diplomatic a tone as she could muster: “No-Face is coming.”

“Oh yeah,” Brody said, lazily twirling the pencil in his hand. “No-Face.”

-

This was how Brody Hookbane and Melanie Hampton’s conversations started off, ever since the woman Brody had come to dub as ‘No-Face’ strolled through Booty Bay three weeks ago. The war between the Alliance and the Horde over the azerite wounds popping up all over the planet had driven Baron Revilgaz to ramp up security and make the official declaration that – once again – no matter what faction colors you wore or what flag you flew, you still had to abide by Booty Bay laws; if you wanted a fight, why, it was better to take it outside and die like the dogs they were. This made flight schedules from Kalimdor Airlines and Southern Skies Platform extremely contentious for the first few months, once word about Teldrassil and Undercity got out, and it was when the fights spilled out from the bars and rival adventurer guilds tried to wrest control of the docks and the entrance from the guards did the Baron sic the Blackwater Raiders on them and declare martial law. If you wanted in on Booty Bay, then you had to say what you wanted to say and keep your hands to yourselves. It was only until just recently, some time before Old Man Heming tasked Brody and Melanie to run The Happy Bobber while he was away at Mechagon Island to ‘cull the population’ of ionized minnows that the imposition was lifted, and people from all walks of life were allowed to come and go as they pleased so long as they went by the rules (which, in all seriousness, the rules were no different than when Azeroth’s superpowers were butting heads, and that in itself was an everyday occurrence).

No-Face was not Alliance. She was not even a hired hand of the Horde, as much as Brody had heard the stories of Thrall employing human sellswords to inform him of events happening in the world as he managed affairs in Orgrimmar. In fact, Brody had learned, from a friend of a friend (who learned from another friend’s cousin, who heard it from that cousin’s third cousin on his third mother’s side of the family), that No-Face did not know there was a war going on. “Don’t know how she got here, she says,” the friend said. “Just shewed up in Stranglethorn and started walkin’ south, lookin’ for answers.” That had been three weeks ago, and seeing that she was still hanging around Booty Bay and the wilderness, Brody and Melanie made the obvious connection that No-Face still hadn’t found the answers she was looking for.

“Maybe she’s an alien,” Melanie said, one day. “You know, like the draenei and the orcs.”

“Nah,” Brody said. “She looks too plain to be an alien. You could put her in a room full of humans and she’d fit right in with all the bluebloods.”

“How do you know she’s a blueblood?”

“I dunno, she’s got the look of a blueblood. Big Nose McGee in Stormwind looks more like a member of a boy band than a king.”

“Maybe she’s an adventurer.”

“She can’t be. Most adventurers I’ve seen wear slutmogs.”

“You call a badass coat a ‘slutmog’?”

“No, the rest of her is all...Look at her. She wears fishnet stockings, Mel. Fishnet.”

“So?”

“So?! That’s something you don’t see your average female adventurer wear! They dare to go bare; that’s the slutmog way! It’s all skin with the low-cut breastplates that are one inch away from having those puppies come out, and-and-and those really thin G-string plates that make their asscheeks look like a pair of balloons you gotta pop at the Darkmoon Faire!”

“All that talk of women, and no men? Have you seen the night elves? They’re wearing thorns, Brody! Thorns!”

“Bah, thorns, shmorns!”

“At least thorns are creative! Someone could try to get up close and personal and, and, I don’t know, maybe they’d get pricked just touching them. Because nothing says distraction like having your eight-pack abs and your noodle jammed in an overstuffed speedo on display for all of Azeroth to see.”

“That’s because you see barely see guys strip down to their birthday suits and use that to seize the day! Women have a more profound effect because it’s expected of them!”

“But now you have all the guys coming off the boats looking like they came out of Uldum, with their fancy feathered helmets and half their chest sticking out from their girdles and skirts. It’s a step in the right direction!”

“And I say good for them! It’s a step in the right direction! Sometimes less is more, Mel. Sometimes you just need a little glitz to make yourself stand out! Not,” and he had waved his hand around, “you know, like that.”

“There’s no shame in looking like that! Everyone has their own way of utilizing sex appeal to their own advantage. Oh, by the way, she has a belly window, too.”

“Ya see what I mean?!”

Melanie did, and they had bickered back and forth on this very topic, as well as the topic of her hypothetical bluebloodedness, for every day No-Face was in town, and preferably once she had her fishing supplies together and was way, way out of earshot.

[kaepop-trash]

Ambiguous

Rated: Smut, Angst

Pairing: JaehyunxReaderxYuta

Summary: The story of secrets, deceit and greed. Three characters with unlikely alliances and one common goal; power. Jaehyun is stuck between his own thirst for power and his need for the one thing that could take away everything. Yuta has ambition growing from an unlikely alliance and convinces himself to do anything to protect it. Between both of them is her, ambitious but with one weakness, she does all it takes for Jaehyun, even if it’s putting herself aside. But how long can she hold up her own fragile games?

(A/N): Next two chapters are flashbacks so sit back and enjoy law school jae.

Mini Masterlist

(Y/N) sat in class staring right at the lecturer talking about something she wasn’t paying any attention to. She didn’t even know what class she was in because her day was a blur in front of her. Her mind kept wandering and she wanted to stop, she tried her best to at least keep her eyes glued on the lecturer so she wouldn’t get called out. 

After a while when the lecturer finally began writing something on the board, she bit her lip and hesitantly turned around. But when she turned to find Jaehyun staring right at her she panicked, her heart suddenly racing faster than a frenzied horse but they held their gazes, either too transfixed or too proud to look away first. His eyes were dark and they reached right into her, the same cold gaze he always had around her but what had a different meaning after the happenings of the night before. As her heart reached an almost suffocating rhythm she had to look away just to catch a breath.

“Get a hold of yourself (Y/N), this is just Jaehyun, annoying brat Jaehyun. Stop it.” She had to scold herself in a soft voice to come back to the reality she was slipping out of slowly and going back to last night.

His keys rattled loudly as he opened the door to his apartment. He pushed it open and she walked in, still hesitant in the place that surrounded her with his presence.

“You were incredible today.” She spoke up first, she owed him some small talk before she would ask to leave.

“You did everything, from finding a restaurant the fossil would like to making them play the right music to start a conversation. I don’t even understand how you think so much.” He dropped his jacket on the sofa as he murmured, running his hands through his hair and making it a proper mess.

“But you talked the talk, you impressed him so much he was practically eating right out of hands, I can’t do that. That’s all you.” She said honestly, credit where credit was due was what she believed.

“To be fair he’ll need someone to feed him very soon, probably something soft to protect his fake teeth.” He laughed and she joined in, sharing the small moment before the illusion faded. They could almost pretend they were friends for a second there.

Jaehyun shuffled around and she raised a brow, she’d never seen him hesitant.

“Do you want to watch the results for the state election?” He asked and bit his lip when he heard his own words, but the damage was done.

“I’d love to actually, I was going to go back and do that, but my dorm doesn’t have a TV.” She reasoned. He looked up at her almost shocked, he really didn’t expect her to agree to something so absurd.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He smiled.

“Oh my god I cannot believe he won.” She groaned and Jaehyun laughed at how invested she looked. She stared in awe at the screen as balloons flew down amongst a cheering crowd.

“That’s the majesty of a democracy, the people decide who takes the cake.” He was still laughing, a little shocked himself that he won the bet placed with her mere minutes ago.

“Well people are fucking idiots. Democracy means everyone gets a slice, this molerat will eat most of the cake and infect the rest with the black plague.” Jaehyun laughed even louder.

“For someone who doesn’t care about politics you sure are passionate about it.” He teased and she groaned.

“I like to believe it’s right to care about who’s going to govern the state I have to get my education in.” She lifted her nose and crossed her arms. Jaehyun scoffed leaning close to her ear.

“Just admit it,” He whispered into her ear, her spine quivered at his voice. “It’s addictive.” She sat up straight and coughed.

“That’s a very absurd thing to be addicted to Jaehyun.” She said only after sitting back. He just smiled knowingly in response.

Jaehyun suddenly clapped his hands together making her jump in her place.

“I almost forgot. I won the wager.” She narrowed her eyes and side glanced him, biting her cheek to control the offence she felt at those words.

“It’s okay, every dog has his day.” She smiled at her own tiny victory.

“I’m going to ignore that because now I can get something out of you.” His words made her turn to him and laugh.

“I don’t remember agreeing to those terms.” She said skeptically.

“In a wager it’s an unsaid agreement that the winning party gets something from the losing party that he or she chooses.” He moved his finger to and fro over her head and she grabbed it.

“A contract with terms not clear to both parties is void Mr. Jung, what have you been doing in contract law classes?” She smiled with victory.

“Watching you sitting three rows below me.” His confession left her speechless and her stomach suddenly flipped, what does that mean? He slipped his finger out of her hold and sat back with a smug face.

“You look so disheveled and you are always in your pajamas, the hideousness of it distracts me.” He bit back a smile and she let out an incredulous scoff.

“Hideous? It’s a 7am class Jaehyun. I wake up with enough time to let me study the night before. Do you happen to know of the concept? Studying? Or do you just care about wearing an intoxicating cologne.” She scoffed again. He was about to bite back when a certain phrase in her sentence caught his attention.

“My cologne is intoxicating is it?” He smirked and her smile faded, hands uncrossing from her chest.

“What no I merely mean-” She started in full fervour, using her best talent to get out this situation.

“What you meant was that you like my cologne, which means you’ve smelt my cologne.” His own mind swirled with a form of victory he didn’t know the reason behind.

“Smelling is an involuntary action, it comes with breathing.” Logic was her last hope. He smiled softly when he noticed the ghost of red dusting her cheeks.

“Since you’re throwing around science, do you know what it means to like the way someone smells.” His breath was on her ear, tickling the hair she urged to brush back.

“No.” She played dumb, her voice shaky.

“Turn around.” His soft voice held a strong command that she found her body following. 

His eyes were warm and brown like hot chocolate, his eyelashes fluttering on his cheek when he sneaked a look at her lips that seem to part at the silent command.

“What?” Her voice was a gentle whisper and he looked up lost like he had forgotten the original intention he had in mind.

“I-” He said, his eyes heavy but lost in the moment, forgetting his own words. Her eyes trailed down to follow the movement of his throat when he swallowed thickly, looking back up to find his eyes even heavier from before as he dared to pull in a little closer. His eyes suddenly turned harder, darker and his jaw set and her eyes furrowed in confusion.

“(Y/N)” The way every hair on her body stood at how her name sounded on his lips scared her enough to turn away.

“Jaehyun..” She said solemnly but he was adamant and he was fueled by the sudden compulsion that threatened to overwhelm his existence if he didn’t act on it, so before she could say anything more he grabbed her neck to bring her back into his space that suddenly felt empty without her presence. He didn’t wait to reconsider when he connected their lips and he was rewarded by his gut telling him that nothing he ever did before felt more right. His mind went silent, as if allowing all of him to enjoy the feeling he had the priviledge of enjoying. Her hand only lay on his chest on a moment before it escaped to find refuge on the back of his neck and pull him closer to feel him better. They moved in an almost musical harmony as his hands slid down to her waist in return, desperate to see if they could be even more closer. When his tongue moved in to explore her mouth, it felt so natural that it felt criminal to obstruct. He groaned when she pulled on his hair and the sound alone made her shake with need.

His lips were the most divine thing she had experienced and she wanted them to herself till the end of time. They were soft and pressed against her own with tranquility. She was seeing stars under her eyelids and even after he pulled away she took a while to realise that it was from the lack of oxygen he had pulled out of her so effortlessly.

His wet lips left a trail down her neck that would be marked forever in her mind as her eyes remained shut and her plump lips remained parted. His knee pushed her skirt higher inadvertently when he inched closer and how he felt heat radiating through even his pants made him bite down on her shoulder blade. The way his fingers slipped higher under her shirt as they left feather light touches that made her shiver and she fisted his hair tighter in her hold, her thighs trying to close but being obstructed by his knee.

“Fuck.” He breathed out against her throat, unable to articulate anything else. The way she whined at his words made him quiver and his pants get tighter than was gentlemanly.

“This is so wrong.” His lips let go before his mind could deliberate on his own words. Her eyes pushed open at his words and she shoved him away more harshly than intended. Her face turned to a silent cry as the ramifications of the action sunk in deep, overriding every sensation she felt before. She watched him sit back breathless, his hair a mess and his lips swollen and red as he watched her with confusion, his eyes still the colour of coal. His eyes grew wide with panic when he realised what she was thinking.

“Wait I didn’t mean-” She should have let him finish.

“We’ll never bring this up again.” She said trying to hide how much her face burned with shame as she got up and left his apartment.

“Miss (Y/L/N),” A voice yanked her out of her thoughts and her head slid off the perch of her palm as she looked up confused at the lecturer.

“Is there something you deem more important than the topic we are discussing today? I can confidently say out of the two, this is the one that will help you pass my class.” The man looked up from the frames resting on his nose with disappointment.

“It won’t happen again sir.” She stood up and bowed. He sighed deeply at her words.

“Since you’re confident enough to slack in my class (Y/N), give me one reason a contract is void.” She bit down on the inside of her cheek standing up.

“An ambiguous contract sir. When the clauses of a contract are unclear, or the two parties do not agree on the same terms. The contract is voidable.” She offered without hesitation.

“And what defence would you use against the draftsman?” The lecturer pushed.

“Contra proferentem. In case of an ambiguous contract, the closest interpretation should work against the interest of the draftsman.” The lecturer allowed an impressed nod and went back to his book, gesturing her to sit down. She smiled at him and obeyed.

“I have to differ sir.” Jaehyun’s voice made everyone turn to him, including her who bit the inside of her cheek.

“Alright Mr. Jung, how would you rule the hearing in your favour?” The lecturer leaned against the table intrigued.

“Implied In-Fact Contract sir. When a contract is bound by mutual agreement and intent, it has to pass even if it is not fully clear.” She narrowed her eyes when he gave her the ghost of a glance.

“That’s very good both of you, but I’ll have you know that we haven’t touched on either defences in class yet and while I’m impressed at your dedication to contracts I’d also love to see you actually pay attention.” He stared at both of them once before turning away and going back to his lecture while the whole class giggled softly at them both.

“You’re not in pajamas today.” He hurried up to catch her before she rushed out of class. She turned to him before turning back, not keen on telling him that she had time to look more presentable because she had no sleep.

“And you look terrible today.” She observed before turning away with a stoic face.

“I haven’t slept all night.” He confessed making her stop in her track.

“Oh thank god! For a small person you walk very fast.” He gasped and she turned to him.

“Leave me alone Jaehyun, we aren’t friends. We don’t walk to class together.” Her words were harsh and he was taken aback a little. He was quickly taken over by annoyance, more over how her words made him feel.

“I just wanted to tell you about the party. You know what never mind. You’re going the wrong way by the way.” He sneered before walking away.

She got back to her room much after sunset as she was contemplating a hot shower and an early night. When she walked in her roomate greeted her, commenting on her evident fatigue.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Her roommate said gaining her attention, “Some guys in suits came to give you this.” She extended her hand with a white envelope with delicate designs on the back.

“Is this where you tell me you work for some super secret spy agency or something.” She asked and (Y/N) laughed.

“It’s sealed with wax (Y/N).” She said sounding amazed.

“I’ve noticed.” She answered, breaking the seal to to slide out a silver card.

Mr, Mrs. and Jaehyun Jung hereby formally invite you, ___(Y/N)___ to their residence for a small gathering.

We hope you may attend and give us the pleasure of hosting you for the night.

Date: Wednesday

Venue: Jung Residence

Dress Code: Black Tie, White. 

 Time: 7pm ownwards

We hope to see you there,

With Regards.

She stared at the card for a while longer. Touched by the invitation but filled with an unknown sense of dread.

“You look like you saw a ghost. What’s wrong?” Her roommate stood up from her chair hesitantly.

“I need to go shopping.” Was all she said.

[tastywordgasms]

 Who’s afraid of Virginia Lee Johnson?

Virginia is a mom to two beautiful children and resides in Minnesota. Any spare time is spent watching TV, reading, facebooking and spending time with friends. She’s married to Thai Preyer PA 😉, yet owned by Kyle Perkins as his PA. *these two run my life* A love for reading and writing is a new concept for Virginia. Before the Twilight rave and a need to know the ending after Eclipse was released in theaters, Virginia preferred to watch the movie or convince a friend to read the book for her. Needing to know the story of a random homeless man that she encountered on a freeway exit ramp, was the only reason she began writing in the first place. Soulless Nights spawned from the unknown story and a dare from her friends.

Virginia has expanded her love for books by planning and hosting The Tampa Indie Author Book Convention. As a co-owner of The Indie Book Channel on YouTube, the opportunity to help others experience books and events that they otherwise couldn’t has helped her to share her passion for the Indie Community.

She has had the pleasure of working with some of her favorite authors. Street teams, beta reading and cover modeling were what led her to the world of writing. She currently PA’s for Kyle Perkins

Currently she has released Soulless Nights, Revenge; a short story within the anthology Doctrine of Indecency: 18 Coveted Tales of Lust, Vindicate, Seraphine’s ( With Julia Clare ) and Bound by an Echo ( With Julia Clare ), Expiate, Humanity’s Ark: Kepler (Kyle Perkins), Always; Never and a few funny books. Secondary Silence, Freeing Olivia (Ellen Wilder), and Soulless Days are current WIP’s, soon to be released.

=Nikki K get’s the skinny on Ginni=

I met Virginia, or Ginni as she is called, a few months back through some author friends. I didn’t know anything about her or her books but I was joining a group she was a part of and decided I needed to read one of her books. I picked Soulless Nights and was totally blown away. First it was a tad bit darker than I am used to but the storyline was something I had not read before and the twists were like, WOW! Any who, we began talking and I quickly decided that this chick was one of the funniest most irreverent people I’d met in a long time. She may also sleep less than me and be one of the hardest working people in the book world. Not only does she PA, Write, work a day job and she’s a mom, but she is also one of the first people to lend a hand to support others. The long and short of it, I became a fan of not only her writing but of the person behind the pen as well.

Q. First things first, if we’re meeting somewhere to conduct this interview, where would it be? (A park, bar, restaurant, your home, my home) A. Your hot tub, filled with ice… cause it’s hot as fuck where you live.

Q. What would be your drink of choice? I’m a vodka or Jameson gal myself. A. Mike’s Black Cherry Lemonade. I don’t drink often so buying a bottle would age. Not just age, my great grand kids would ask to use it for a history class artifact. (But when she does drink, bahaha. Let’s just say I have seen video!)

Q. If there’s food involved, what type would it be? A. Steak. No, boiled peanuts. And chocolate, not dark. The aftertaste is awful.

Q. Why do you write? What inspired you? A. Honestly, I wrote my first book because I spent an hour of time, that I’ll never get back, reading a book. I thought the plot was good, characters had potential but the execution was piss-poor to say it nicely. My inspiration was friends that were indie authors.

Q. Why did you start writing in the genre you chose? A. I love me a dark read. There is nothing like diving head first into a world that you want to believe doesn’t exist, with characters that couldn’t get away with their actions and twists that make you second guess humanity. I knew I belonged there – dark anything.

Q. How did becoming a published author change you or your life? A. I’ve made the best friends, traveled and have been able to share my imagination with the world. I mean, that’s kinda cool.

Q. Your books tend to lean towards the dark side (yes I’m being polite). What inspires you to write about the topics you do? A. Reality and reflection. The reality is that the world is dark. Bad things happen all of the time. Reflection on what would you do about it, if given the chance? I wrote that story.

Q. In Souless Nights you deal with the topic of Sex trafficking/slavery. Where did that idea come from? A. I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why he was homeless. Cardboard sign and all, begging for money, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. In short, I decided that he was a detective, searching for the love of his life that he had met 5 years earlier, while homeless. This inadvertently brought me to sex trafficking and the real existence of it. Save the girl or lose everything.

Q. What are you working on now? A. My priority is Secondary Silence, a paranormal romance. I really wanted to avoid the stigma of paranormal but a vampire was necessary. Don’t worry, no glittery facade or super speed. Lol. Like, really? Anyways… Ashley is a ghost, assigned to assist Thad (the vamp). I know it’s pnr, but I’ve graphically killed soooooo many people already, it may need to find itself in a horror genre. We shall see😉

Q. Which of your books/series was your most fun to write? A. F*CK, SH*T and M**ST Is this even a for real question? Maybe this isn’t a for real answer. Lol. They were fun to write tho. Kepler: Humanity’s Arc was another fun one. My co author kept me on my toes and the edge of my seat with every chapter. Twas fun!

Q. Is there a recurring theme that runs through your books? Why is this important to your writing? A. My female characters grow into their strengths through the story. Aspen is my only character that was a badass to begin with, a force to be reckoned with. Vindicate showcased the inner beauty of a strong woman that knew what she wanted. Vindicate was a very easy book to write.

Q. If you were interviewing your favorite character from your book what’s the one question you would like to ask them? What would the answer be? A. To Ethan from Vindicate and Expiate – Me : “Will you die already?” Him : “No.”

Q. What genre would you love to write but don’t think that you would do it justice? A. Contemporary Romance. Lol. I tried. It was painful to bang out Bound by an Echo.i love the book, readers LOVE the book. Writing a romance was exhausting. I can’t do it.

Q. What is the one thing you would like readers to know about you? A. All of my characters are a piece of myself, my friends and my fans. No character is an unknown entity, developed from pixie dust and suddenly appears. Someone in my life created a character, without knowing it.

Q. What is your writing process? Do you have scheduled times you sit down and just start writing? Or is it more like when inspiration strikes you pick up a pen or keyboard? A. Inspiration strikes. 9/10 I stare at the screen until I realize I’ve typed enough random words to make a sentence. It’s bad.

Q. Do you write longhand or do you prefer a computer? A. Always my computer. I’m lazy AF. Doing the same job twice would be the death of me.

Q. If you could only read one book for the rest of your life, what book would you pick. A. Thoughtless by SC Stephens.

Q. Can you share a fun/funny story about being a writer? Maybe an interaction with a fan or a mishap while writing? A. Eh… I fell asleep on my keyboard once. Had 48 pages of k’s. I wrote a book with Kyle Perkins. It’s about the planet, Kepler. Mind you, we have been talking about this book for a year when we started writing it in full force. Finally, one day near chapter 7 or so, he tells me, “You know the sky would be more red than blue, right?” I reply with, “Does it matter? We’re writing a book.” I was so pissed when I found out KEPLER IS A REAL PLANET! I had rules to follow. He thought it was hilarious and that I was an idiot, but still. It was pretty funny.

Q. Why did you decide to self published, instead of reaching out to traditional publishers? A. I don’t follow rules well. I kill to many people, thrust into someone too many times, blood splatter was too wide… yeah, I had a character use a (removed) cock as a paintbrush. I am not the publishers dream candidate. Maybe someday.

Q. What is the hardest part about being an author? A. Conformity. I’ll never be like everyone else. I’ve tried the things that work for others and they don’t work for me. It’s hard to be yourself in this world.

Q. Have you ever thought about giving up writing? If so why? A. Yes. Why? Sometimes you want to disappear as if your story has been told. Then, as if they were stalking you, a fan or fellow author sends that much needed message, asking for the rest of a story. That’s when I know my story is just beginning.

Q. We often hear the writers barely break even on their books. If this is true, why do it? A. It’s absolutely true. No question. Being an indie author isn’t a money making gig. It’s not a get rich fast technique and the fact that people think we have spending money from this, blows my mind. This is why indie authors are disappointed in those that don’t take the art seriously. Few of us are lucky enough to have a cover designer, editor, graphic designer, formatter and marketing on call. All of that costs a fortune. No joke. Hundreds of dollars before you buy it for $0.99. In short, we need you sell 1500 copies at $0.99 to break even at a $500 cost. Unfortunately, most indie authors sell 5-10 books in a good week. Why do I do it? I do it for me. I’m proud of accomplishing something that I had never dreamed of. I look at a finished book and think, I did this. Just as quickly I think, What’s next? It’s a vicious circle that has little monetary gain.

For shits and giggles. Q. What is your favorite word? A. Fuck

Q. What is your favorite dirty word. A. Fuck

Q. What is your least favorite word? A. M**st…. Not even spelling it. Lolol

Q. Is there a world we will NEVER find in your writing? A. Historical. Not happening.

Q. What is your favorite naughty toy? A. Time. Lol

Q. Which of your books would you like to be real so you could live in it? And why? A. Kepler: Humanity’s Ark – wouldn’t it be cool as fuck to live on another planet that is capable of sustaining human life? I wanna see that. The world Kyle developed and created in the book sounds beautiful.

Q. I know you have a male writing partner, would you ever consider writing a M/F HEA with him? A. Kepler was written M/F. We had discussed, soon after Kepler released, possibly doing an Urban Fantasy. That might be capable of a HEA. Who knows. He’s more capable of writing it than I am. Although, he doesn’t have many HEA’s either.

=Links=

Facebook: https://facebook.com/AuthorVirginiaJohnson/

Website: https://authorvirginiajohnson.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorVJohnson

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/charmedchic24/

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Virginia-L-Johnson/e/B01E88KI5Q/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

Newsletter: http://tinyletter.com/VirginiaLeeJohnson

=Solo Books from Ginni=

Soulless Night

Soulless Nights on Amazon

WARNING: This book contains sex scenes of a graphic nature. *Contains material that may be sensitive to some readers* Deep in the city, where we’ve been taught to avoid the dark corners and alleys, monsters lurk within the fragile cracks of our human emotions, waiting for the chance to break in. With the loss of his grandfather, William runs to the streets without family or the knowledge of wealth he’s left behind. Spending years begging for food and money, William has learned the secrets that the city keeps hidden, making him one of the most versatile detectives the department has ever seen. Losing the love of his life, with nothing more than a letter saying she’s sorry and spending five years tracking her, William has learned that she has entered the world where sex and money can make you very successful or may very well kill you in the process. Kathryn has spent seven years on the streets, leaving behind her addicted, abusive mother and her sexual predator boyfriends. William proves to be the light she’s been longing for but when darkness shadows the truth she’s left to return to the streets in hiding with fear of the lies she’s faced with. Kathryn must decide, work for Xander and sell her soul for sex, or face the demons of her past and hope William understands she has never forgotten him. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28943216-soulless-nights

🔪🔪Vindicate🔪🔪

Free on KU Vindicate on Amazon

Aspen Young is a girl with a past and an inner demon to feed. Ethan West has been a playboy since his first wet dream but nothing could prepare him for Aspen. In Revenge, Aspen and Ethan collide in an erotic tale of mending the weak and awakening the strength within a woman. When the weak aren’t strong enough to survive, Aspen ends the pain and suffering of lost love and a pathetic heart, the only way she knows how. In Vindicate, Aspen is tested with decisions that will help her continue to right the wrongs that have plagued women for centuries or destroy her as she falls into the same wreckage her victims are subjected to. When Ethan proves to be stronger and smarter than the hunted failures of Aspen’s past, she is forced to make a decision that will ultimately change the life she has created for herself. Take revenge on those who constantly choose to relive the horror of their decisions and take their lives, one bloody heart at a time or end the lives of the people responsible for her need to vindicate her actions.

Always Never

Always Never on Amazon

“Blinking would bring a moment of darkness that I couldn’t afford.”

Darkness shadows those that are marked, but the light of a soul may be stronger than the depths of the Never. I was sent to collect what was rightfully mine. Avery belonged to me as many of the marks before her. She fought harder than the others, stayed stronger through the fear and she made herself an easy target. Finding her was never an issue. Killing her was always the plan. Losing her was no longer an option.

❈Expiate❈

🔪 Expiate on Amazon

🔪Time is nothing more than the illusion that you have buried your skeletons deeper than the next person. The mistake that is most commonly made is forgetting one thing; Aspen doesn’t care how deep the bodies are buried – she will find you and she will kill you. The only question that they should be asking themselves is, ‘When?”

🔪Blinding emotion is the one thing that separates Aspen from her victims. She has given them a choice; a chance to make it right. She has rules, she has boundaries and now, she is running out of time.

🔪After allowing Ethan to escape with a new set of rules, Aspen finds herself caught between finishing what she started and starting what needs to be finished. ❈ Tracy created a monster. ❈ Preston follows no rules. ❈ Ethan is pissed and ready to fight. 🔪Three different men with three different reasons to die. They will pay for the mistakes that they made and Aspen will collect… when she is ready.

Bad Words Made Funny Series

From Book 1: ***TRIGGER WARNING*** STRONG LANGUAGE Not intended for underage viewers Adult supervision is advised!

***This book is a sarcastic educational and (probably) inaccurate reference guide ONLY!!*** It is not intended to provide you with any sort of value or brain power. Actually, I can almost guarantee you that it will do the exact opposite.

Have you ever sat back and thought to yourself, “Well, I wonder how to say, “F*CK” in dutch? No? Well, that’s too bad, cause I have. What I found was that there is absolutely no reason for me to ever need to know that, but I am humored to know that I have given you a book that will help you do just that! There are a total of 40 ways to read it within the pages of this disaster. Trust me when I say… ENJOY!

=Collaborations with Ginni and her friends= 

 🔑🔪Seraphine’s🔪 🔑

By Virginia Lee Johnson and Julia Clare

Seraphine’s on Amazon

Which room holds your dirty desire? ***THIS IS YOUR TRIGGER WARNING* *There are scenes that may be sensitive to some readers. Please be advised* Can Seraphine break the walls down surrounding Ivy? Will Ivy succumb to her expected fate? What neither of them anticipated was a reservation, one that could destroy them all. Are you #TeamJulian or #TeamJasper?

Bound by an Echo

By Julia Clare and Virginia Johnson

Bound by an Echo on Amazon

Laurel escaped her past and the horror that threatened to plague her future. With her dream job, fame and friends, there was always something standing in her way. She was happy but she knew a piece of her was missing; that piece came with a price and an echo. Rory never did leave; he stayed exactly where she could find him. The girl that got away would return, eventually. What he didn’t expect was for her to walk through the door of his bar days before an echo of their past was to boom through the mountains and mirror the moment that tore them apart. Twenty years ago; That was the last busy day in Crater City. It was the last time laughter was heard through the mountains. It was also the last day that The Crater City Carnival had ever opened. Now, twenty years later, the carnival will reopen for one week only, bringing two lost loves back together and a mystery they both tried to forget will be brought back to life. Will Rory and Laurel survive… again?

✨ •••• 🌓KEPLER: Humanity’s Ark  🌓 •••• ✨

Kyle Perkins and Virginia Johnson Kepler on Amazon

Orrin was born for the mission ahead of him; his team has nothing to lose and a livable planet to gain. Built for the elements and prepared for the worst, Orrin is Earth’s last chance for survival and he is determined to save humanity no matter the cost.

As the daughter of the Vaklarn Elite, Aya was adorned with every amenity available but she craved a life of freedom and independence. Betrothed to the man of her father’s choice, her chance at love was taken from her in the name of her ancestors until she comes face to face with the biggest threat her people have ever encountered; Orrin.

When two worlds collide, more than a fight for a home is on the line. Both have an objection; both have something to lose; both bend the bind that threatens to break in the name of strength, power, life and love.

=Anthology’s=

Doctrine of Indecency: 18 Coveted Tales of Lust

Doctrine of Indecency (Forever Free)

Have you gotten your copy of Doctrine of Indecency : 18 Coveted Tales of Lust? It’s packed with 18 amazing authors short stories and it’s free! Go get it if you haven’t already!

*This is an adult romance short story collection containing explicit content only suitable for adults.* Dare yourself to explore eighteen very different tales of lust by eighteen wickedly imaginative authors that love to spin a sexy story. Get lost in the pages composed by minds trained to tempt and tease the senses to satisfaction while leaving you wanting so much more…

☠ ❤ Twist Me Anthology ❤ ☠

Twist Me Anthology

Twist Me: A Dark Romance Anthology of love, lust, desires, murder, mystery and more 12 authors brings you 12 original short stories of when good boys want to meet you and bad boys want blood. Voices need to be heard and secrets stay burried for only so long. Feel the whip of a dominatrix and you might become a dark princess. Where lessons are learned the hard way of internet dating. Never fall for the enemy and till death do you really part. Take a walk in the sand and watch love burn like wildfire to create a cataclysmic effect. *All proceeds go to ASPCA* Elizabeth Cash – Taking You Home Destiny Hawkins – The Man in the Dark Reagan Hollow – Aaron’s Undoing Virgina Lee Johnson – Blind Capture Erin Lee – Acquiring August Emery LeeAnn – Cataclysmic Carissa Lynch – Loves Me Not P. Mattern – The Girl in the Sand Alana Melos – Strange Bedfellows Ellie Midwood – The Iron Cross Yolanda Olson – Wildfire Erin M. Trejo – Dark Princess

Spotlight on the Darkness of Virginia Lee Johnson  Who's afraid of Virginia Lee Johnson? Virginia is a mom to two beautiful children and resides in Minnesota.