#there’s SO MUCH to do and see and even plenty of nature! find local groups and clubs to join and you’ll meet great people

[cheddarchaser]

YO I'm sorry if this is weird but I'm moving across the country to philly in February and don't know anybody there. do I pass the vibe check. ignore me if this is abnormal behavior :p

perfectly normal behavior. the most important rules of living in philly are KEEP MOVING and SHOW NO FEAR

[deepspacedukat]

Veiled Interludes

This is just a random plot bunny. I'll get back to my wips and requests after this, I promise. 💖 In the meantime, this is set way before ST:TNG S3E23 "Sarek" - maybe 4-5 years prior. Tbh, I didn't think it through that far. Blame "The Meeting on the Turret Stairs" for this, because although I've seen that painting many times, it gave me many intense feelings early yesterday morning.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Sakkath (ST:TNG) x Reader

[A/N: This is just fluff. Allusions to intimacy, but nothing graphic or explicit.]

Warnings: Interspecies flirting, Human/Vulcan flirting, fluff, interspecies kissing, sneaky relationship, they're both v professional but also v in love, Sakkath drinks his respect women juice daily, idk man this just came to me.

~*~

Sakkath's eyes found her immediately when he entered the conference room. He'd seen her so many times before during diplomatic functions or around their offices, and every time he couldn't help but marvel at her. Even from across the room, she was extraordinary - she always was, but tonight she was even more exceptional than usual. The way her dress dripped from her frame, modest and elegant in the traditional Vulcan style despite their current locale, filled his head with plentiful improper thoughts.

They'd known each other across a number of years thanks to their occupations. Where he was Ambassador Sarek's personal assistant, she was the same for Ambassador Lojal. Owing to their friendship, the two diplomats often worked closely, so their PA's naturally grew to know each other, as well. Sakkath had been intrigued by Lojal's assistant the moment he laid eyes on her, but even he didn't know what that curiosity would evolve into when he initially greeted her.

Outwardly, they were the picture of professionalism - a Vulcan and a Human who worked well together when their jobs required it - but those observations didn't begin to scratch the surface of the relationship that Sakkath and his Human counterpart had developed.

Even across the conference room when her eyes met his, Sakkath felt his inner beast perking up. They had seen each other only three days prior, but they'd barely had the chance to speak. Managing a single stolen ozh'esta, they'd been forced to part without so much as an inquiry into each other's health. Tonight, however, both the Ambassadors would be busy mingling, and the two assistants would be free to do as they pleased.

As soon as it was socially acceptable, he excused himself and slipped away from Ambassador Sarek's side. Glancing quickly over the crowd, he spotted her by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the vastness of one of Earth's oceans. Snagging two drinks from a passing waiter, Sakkath made his way over to her, handing her the drink without a word and taking his place beside her like a silent sentinel.

That was what he'd been for her since shortly after their acquaintance began, after all. He noticed early on that she was so often spoken over or interrupted that she'd simply cease speaking or find reasons to extricate herself from conversations, especially at events like this. The first time, he'd thought it was a fluke - an accident perpetrated by those who were not paying enough attention to social cues to realize they'd been impolite - but as that occurrence repeated itself over and over, Sakkath grew increasingly troubled and protective over her.

She was intelligent and insightful. Could nobody but himself see that she would not have spoken if she hadn't something valuable to contribute? He wanted to take her into his arms and show her that she was not as invisible as perhaps she believed herself to be, but that would not have been proper in such a public setting.

Instead, Sakkath had followed her when she broke away from the group, standing silently by her side. All too often, she was forced to listen to others without being afforded the same courtesy in return. Thus, even when she looked curiously over at him that first night, he merely gave her a respectful nod of his head.

During subsequent encounters, he'd made certain to take up a position near her and keep her company, wanting to show her that he was not simply socializing with her in order to make her listen to him ramble. Once, he was even so bold as to call a Bolian ambassador out for speaking over her. The gruff diplomat had been irritated that a mere personal assistant would speak to him that way, but the beautiful blush that had colored his lady's cheeks had made his actions worth it. When they'd walked away to a quiet corner that night, she'd laid a hand carefully on the sleeve of his tunic and thanked him with an earnestness that almost alarmed him. Had nobody ever stood up for her before?

That had been the first night she'd spoken to him about anything outside of their work. It was also the first time that he'd stated outright that he enjoyed hearing her speak.

Their relationship had developed naturally over the months that passed, settling into a balanced, yet surreptitious set of romantic rendezvous ranging from the brief clasping of hands in back stairwells, to abbreviated embraces between meetings, to passionate, intimate assignations in empty conference rooms. He'd even been so bold as to don a hooded cape and visit her quarters when both their Ambassadors had been sent to the same set of negotiations a few months back.

Neither Sakkath nor his lover had ever once truly risked their positions by displaying their affections in public. Oh, it wasn't that their relationship would be forbidden - on the contrary, there were no regulations against interoffice romances - however, publicly unprofessional behavior was certainly grounds for disciplinary censure, and he would never risk sullying her reputation with his own indiscretions.

That was why tonight, though the beast of his emotions roared in his chest for him to tug her out of the room and utterly fuse his scent with hers, he refrained. Watching her take a sip from the glass he'd obtained for her instead, they looked out the window together at the rippling water.

"This is my first time on your planet in many years, t'sai. I find the view quite a bit more...stimulating than I did before," he said quietly, hoping that she knew - she had to know - that he wasn't referring exclusively to the starlight reflecting off the ocean's gently cresting waves. The soft, inconspicuous brush of her fingers against the back of his hand made his breath hitch.

"I'm glad you're enjoying your time here, osu," she said before lowering her voice to just above a whisper. "You look very distinguished tonight, Sakkath."

"I had hoped my choice of outfit would be aesthetically agreeable to you, ashaya, but you should know that you are infinitely more pleasing to look at," he replied brushing his hand against hers a bit more firmly. All of his emotions beat at the barrier of his control at once, and, taking a chance, he whispered the one thing he'd longed to since he entered the conference room. "You have stolen my logic from me. I wish nothing more fervently than to have you alone in my arms..."

He knew he shouldn't be speaking like this in public, even though he was being quiet enough that only she could hear him, but he could help it. Sakkath ached for her as he'd done for no one else. He knew that she'd never heard him be so open when they were anywhere other than safely tucked away in each others' arms.

"Sakkath?" She breathed, looking at him with wide eyes. "Are you alright?"

"No, I am not. I find myself...unsettled when I am away from you. Every moment we spend parted is...I can think of no descriptor more applicable than 'torture.' If you wish me to stop, to keep our relationship to our current parameters, then I shall silence myself," he promised. Sakkath hadn't planned to admit any of this today, but he meant it all the same. "However, you should know that there is no other who has laid claim to my heart as you have. I...wish to be yours. Entirely."

As he spoke, his heart hammered away in his side, and as he fell silent again, he looked over at the woman he loved. Foremost in his mind was the day prior to their first tryst.

Sakkath had been accompanying Ambassador Sarek to a turbolift in the embassy on Vulcan. As they approached, however, the door slid open to reveal Lojal and his own assistant. Her eyes met Sakkath's, and without so much as a word passing their lips, they each took up positions behind their superiors. As they passed each other, she silently caught his hand, but before she could let go, Sakkath lifted her wrist to his mouth, pressing a delicate, sensual kiss above her fluttering pulse.

She swore later that he'd looked as though he'd wanted to eat her, and he promised with every fiber of his being that if the Ambassadors had been absent, he would've knelt before her and done just that.

He felt the same hunger now, even as he awaited her decision.

"Sakkath..." she breathed, and heat rose to the Vulcan's cheeks as he realized the next words out of her mouth would either shatter his heart or make him whole for the first time in his life.

--

Ambassadors Sarek and Lojal spoke quietly from their place near the back of the room, trading stories and staunchly avoiding most of the more unpleasant diplomats for as long as they could. When a familiar pair by one of the large windows caught Sarek's eye, he pointed them out to his colleague.

"I believe he will ask her tonight," Lojal said to his friend, elevating his chin with a hint of pride. Sarek lifted an eyebrow and glanced at him, not with reproach but with curiosity. The two men had been watching their personal assistants dance around each other for so long, attempting to be discreet about their obviously growing romantic relationship. The pair had conducted this conversation many times, but it was usually Sarek who predicted the impending approach of the inevitable question, not Lojal.

"What makes you believe that tonight will be any different than the others?" Sarek had been married twice, both times to Human women. He knew their appeal and how easily they could drive even the most controlled Vulcan to madness, yet he could sense no noticeable increase in such madness in his assistant tonight. He had no reason to suspect that Sakkath was close to his breaking point, so why did Lojal sound so certain?

"It is logical," Lojal said almost smugly before taking a sip of water from his glass. At Sarek's bewildered expression, he explained himself further. "Observe the drink in his hand. Vulcan port. Normally, Sakkath is too professional to even consider imbibing at an official event, however, with such a task before him, he obviously wishes for some 'liquid courage' as the Humans would say. In addition, he has purchased a new tunic for tonight - note the slight stiffness in the fabric from its lack of wear. Even if he was not aware of the significance of his own choices, he is attempting to prove himself a worthy potential mate."

Sarek nodded his head quietly. That was all quite correct, and he had to admit that those observations were, in fact, logical.

"You are quite correct, however, that does not mean that she will accept his adva–" The Ambassador broke off when Lojal's assistant grabbed Sakkath's hand and led him through one of the doors at the side of the room with a shy, joyful smile on her lips. A vibrant green blush colored her companion's cheeks as he allowed himself to quite happily be led away into the moonlit garden maze. "...I stand corrected."

Lojal hummed quietly, and after a moment's lapsed silence, a thought occurred.

"Perhaps we should suggest that they both take some leave time," Sarek suggested, and Lojal nodded his head.

"I have already taken the liberty of offering my assistant leave. Logic would suggest that she will likely ask Sakkath to join her during their liaison tonight," the Ambassador murmured to Sarek.

"I will, then, anticipate Sakkath's absence," he muttered, but he stared pensively at the doorway through which they'd exited. "They seem well-suited. She will be patient with him."

"And he will be devoted to her," Lojal added setting his now-empty glass aside. "It seems as though we shall be feigning even more meetings, and you would be wise to prepare yourself for a few less-than-subtle questions about romantic relationships with Humans."

"Indeed. We will both be inconvenienced," Sarek murmured thoughtfully, "but such a love as theirs is worth the sacrifice."

~*~*~

Vulcan Words:

t'sai = my lady

osu = sir

ashaya = darling

ozh'esta = finger smooch

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[lisutarid-a]

[Gakuen K] Munakata Reisi Route Translation

Survival Training Camp

LIST OF CHAPTERS

[Translation under the cut]

Saya: Blue club is amazing, renting the whole deserted island for the camp…I'm sure it will be a fun camp.

Fushimi: …I hope so.

Saya: What does that mean?

Fushimi: You'll see when you get there.

Munakata: …So, I'd like to welcome you all in a survival training camp.

Munakata: Because of the harshness of Mother Nature, the purpose of the camp is to learn the value of clothing, food and supporting one's life.

Munakata: Basically, we are on our own in providing ourselves with local food. Cooking also requires the use of the environment.

Munakata: Since the camp is on a deserted island, it would be a loss if you don't enjoy nature to the fullest.

Saya: (S-survival…!? Self-survival means that if you don't have food, you won't eat…!?)

Saya: Senpai, sorry. I have a question…

Munakata: Yeah, what is it?

Saya: If we don't get any food, does that mean we won't eat?

Munakata: Yeah, that's right. But don't worry so much, it'll be alright.

Saya: Eh?

Munakata: The island is rich in natural food. The water is clean, so there are plenty of fish, there are also a lot of nuts.

Munakata: I think it's impossible not to eat anything.

Saya: I-I see…

Munakata: It is rare for us to rent out the whole place, so let's all work together and this camp together.

Munakata: Now, let us briefly divide into groups.

Saya: (…So that's what Fushimi-kun meant earlier)

Saya: (I wonder if there are any wild beasts in the woods or anything)

Munakata: Konohana-kun.

Saya: Y-Yeah!

Munakata: I'll give you a tinderbox. Use this and try to build a fire.

Saya: Understood.

Munakata: If you can't build a fire, all the fish we catch will go to waste...

Saya: Understand! By the time everyone gets back, I'll do my best to build a fire!

Munakata: That's the spirit. Well, I'm off to go fishing.

Saya: Okay, please be careful!

The Blue club Member 5: Gyaaa!?

Munakata: Seems like they are enjoying the nature of the deserted island right away. I can't lose to them.

Saya: (Enjoying…that was the scream, wasn't it?)

Saya: (…It's not working at all)

Saya: (If I don't do it soon, everyone will come back, but if I rush, it won't work)

Saya: (Let's read the explanation one more time and try again)

Saya: (I'm glad I somehow managed to build a fire…Now I just have to wait for everyone to return)

Saya: (…)

Saya: (…)

Saya: …They are not coming back. I hope they are okay.

Fushimi: Haa…Did I make it back?

Saya: Ah, Fushimi-kun, welcome back! You look very tired, are you okay…?

Fushimi: This guy chased me.

Saya: Eh!?

Saya: Wild boar!?

Fushimi: I killed it, so this will be food too.

Saya: It's huge! We can share it with everyone.

Fushimi: I also picked some nuts.

Saya: Wow! So many…!

Akiyama: That's amazing.

Saya: Akiyama-senpai! Thank you for your hard work. What is that you are holding in your hand…

Akiyama: While diving, I found some turban shells and got a lot of them.

Saya: Eh, turban shells!? You find it here?

Akiyama: I couldn't believe it either and had to double check. Let's grill and eat it later.

Akiyama: It's about time for the other members of the club to return, I think we should make more bonfires.

Saya: Yeah!

Saya: (They brought different kinds of food)

Saya: (It seems that Munakata-senpai was right when he said that we didn't need to worry about food)

Munakata: Looks like the harvest turned out to be good.

Saya: Munakata-senpai, please take a look! So many things!

Munakata: Excellent. We could live here for a week with all this.

Fushimi: No, it's would be hard, so please don't even joke about it.

Munakata: Is that so…What a pity.

Fushimi: So, what did the President bring?

Munakata: Ah, I've caught some fish. We have enough for everyone, so please grill these.

Saya: Okay. Understood!

Saya: Haa…It was delicious. I'm full.

Fushimi: The wild boar mean wasn't that bad.

Munakata: Well. Thank you all for your hard work today. I think each of you fulfilled the purpose of this training camp.

Munakata: Awashima-sensei, who was unable to attend due to a summer cold, has generously provided us with a tent.

Saya: (Awashima-sensei had a summer cold…It's a pity we couldn't have a training camp together)

Munakata: Please set them on your own and go to bed.

[Prev chapter][Next chapter]

[socialbubbles]

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[ao3-oner]

Which Longer Work Should I Embark on Next?

Hi everyone!

So now that I’ve wrapped up M.S.I. and its prequels (I do still need to write my chess theme analytical mini-essay - haven’t forgotten, just getting around to it), I’m staring down the better part of four months until I start my Worlds fic. As previously stated, in the next few weeks, I plan to drop a few one-shots, mostly G and T-rated (since I’ve written plenty of smut for rn lmao), but after that, I’ve been considering starting up another longer project for this summer. I have a couple of ideas for what that might be, since there are a few AUs I’ve been rolling around in my mind for a while now. The thing is, I’m not entirely sure which one I want to start first – ideally, I’ll get around to writing all of these eventually, but realistically who knows how long I’ll be in this fandom – so I thought I’d ask you all if you have opinions.

Naturally, at the end of the day, I’ll just write whatever I want regardless of what the result of this poll is, but for reasons of curiosity...

Brief Synopsis of Each AU Below:

BotB AU -  the least developed of the three ideas, but that sort of makes it the most exciting

This story would be told in the form of a single multi-chapter fic – Idk exactly how long but prob at least 30,000 words, might also be partial chatfic – with varying perspectives, i.e. one chapter would be told by one character, the next would be told by someone different. Set in the 2010s Philadelphia house show scene among a group of indie bands: old T1 fans are fighting with new T1 fans about whether the band can even keep its name after subbing out everyone but lead singer Sanghyuk, but no one’s complaining about their new sound. ShowMaker and the KIAs keep getting banned from venues because of dozens of noise complaints from local Karens, and are now struggling to find new gigs. Most people are pretty upset about Generation G breaking apart after power couple Jaehyuk and Siwoo split up, but goddamn did it lead to the most iconic break-up tracks of 2012. And they’re all competing for one record label at the end of the summer that might finally get them out of this piece-of-shit city.

Fantasy AU - by far the most challenging/longest of the three, so I’d need to really commit if I don’t want to abandon this partway through

This story would be a quartet of fics, one for each of my primary ships (GK, OZ, CM and RL) with the main plot being told in the GuKe fic and the other three essentially being spin-offs, specifically prequels. This kingdom/deities/magic AU has a LOT of worldbuilding, but I’d be excited to see if I could pull something of this scale off. The central focus would be on the Archer Prince Minhyung, heir to Unkillable Demon King Sanghyuk, and his encounters with a mysterious monster of legend called Keria. In other tales, we have flashbacks to Prince Heo Su of the Kingdom of Damwon as he begins teaching himself dark magics (much to the dismay of his loyal knight and chief captain Kim Geonbu) in a tragedy culminating in the kingdom’s demise, plus King Jaehyuk receives a concubine from a rival kingdom who’s maybe just a little too knowledgeable about poisons. Also, armored knight Hyunjoon might be fucking the literal God of Thunder??? More news at sundown.

Omegaverse AU - Perhaps the most appealing one to start first because it’s more developed than BotB but less ambitious than Fantasy

Also it fits well with most of what I’ve previously written because the core of it is still set in a modern-day e-sports environment. Don’t be mistaken, though: not only is this an alternate universe, but it is full-on dystopia that thoroughly explores the sociopolitical implications of the omegaverse. Y’all do realize how dark and primal this trope is, right? I mean, is it hot? Obviously – that’s why I’m down to write it – but there’s so much more depth to it, too. This story would also be told in a quartet of fics, each one approximately 10,000 words in length (there is no “central narrative” for this one; just four different explorations) with the possibility of a fifth multi-chapter fic with shifting perspectives afterward and/or maybe a drabbles collection of miscellaneous short ideas I had for this AU that don’t cleanly fit into their own fics. The start of this series will likely just be a worldbuilding doc explaining my vision of everything, then diving right in with the first fic (GumaKeria).

[tayonseanagh]

Reflections - Part 3

Chapter 8 – Life On The Other Side of the World

The next few months were pretty great. We travelled around the country and continent almost every weekend. We both wanted to see as much as possible. It was one of the many things we had in common, our thirst for life, to experience something different, to meet different people, to be different. In addition, of course, to our insatiable appetite for fucking each other and getting twatted.

Unfortunately, the drinking didn't subside, despite it being a conservative country, there were still plenty of westerners around wanting to get pissed up and so in the city we lived, this was well catered for. We were also both still smoking a shit tonne of weed, it turns out you can just buy dodgy weed from the taxi drivers who kept it conveniently in their glove compartment. Dodgy is an understatement, it was so compressed it came in a cube and it stank like it had been sprayed with something, something exotic - like paint stripper. Still, we smoked it carelessly.

My new job was very different to what I had been used to previously, it was a very hierarchical system and the office was super quiet. On one occasion I went to meet with a client and he refused to shake my hand. Often, I would find that the local male clients would not even want to talk directly to me but preferred only to converse with men. A hard pill to swallow but I accepted it and just got on with what needed to be done as best as I could. My work mates were at least lovely, a few degrees of magnitude tamer than those I had worked with previously, but still lovely welcoming people.

We also discovered that, surprisingly, there were quite a few festivals happening here too. In fact during the first three years of living there we got to see quite a number of incredible musicians – most notably Prodigy, Tenacious D, Naughty by Nature.....and even Psy....

When we went to our first festival, I was excited but super nervous. I didn't know what to expect . When we arrived, I asked Dick, "do I look OK?" His response, "no you look like a dirty bag of sprouts. Hahaha". "Hahaha" I laughed too. We cracked on and had a fantastic day, while I tried to forget about my silly outfit choice. Which for comfort, had been a pair of skinny jeans, a green vest top and pumps. I asked him the next day if he really thought I looked bad, since his opinion was like gold to me. He admitted he was joking but he was surprised because I usually looked more glamorous than that and it was the first time he had seen me looking so, erm, casual. OK fair point. I took it on board. The one thing he prided himself on was honesty and so we had made a promise to always be that way with each other.

We very quickly made a lot of new friends due to our social nature. We met a lot of very like-minded people – like meets like right. Since we, well Dick, was doing pretty well, with a swanky apartment that was paid for by the company, we would often have everyone at ours, well his, he made it very clear on many occasions that it was indeed his flat, for pre and post festival / gig nights. Sessions I was more than happy to accommodate. I would prepare the house, clean everything, cook up a delicious buffet and bake a tasty cake (if I do say so myself). We would lay on a generous spread of beers, liquor and weed. It was the place to be.

We were friends with people of multiple races, creeds and colours. The city we lived in was more culturally diverse than you could ever imagine. I honestly met people from countries I had never even heard of, this may sound ignorant but seriously, the world is a big place. If you think London is diverse, this city is London on steroids. It was incredible, we were living the dream.

It was a blessing to have all of these foreign cultures around us, in fact by the end of my decade here I would say that only around 20 % of my friendship group comprised westerners, and these were mostly people I performed with, because in the last few years I was working part time as a musician. Dick and I were finding that we didn't have much in common with most of the westerners around. Apart from a golden few, we found most to be incredibly boring and stuffy. Happy to exist within the confines of their gated communities and the bars. Incredibly proud of themselves for being important enough to have a job on the other side of the world and, for most of them, their job was really the only thing they had to talk about. Apart from the men, they could also talk about prostitutes, not to me of course, this was a conversation for the men. It wasn't until I travelled away to complete an offshore training course that I learned about the full depravity of this.

Chapter 9 – My Offshore Training Course

To say I was excited about this trip would be a huge understatement. I was to go and complete my offshore training course, a few hundred kilometres south of the city. This would involve navigating my way through a burning building wearing a blindfold, a very carefully controlled burning building of course; jumping from a 4.5 m tall spring board into the pool below and being rolled underwater in a fake helicopter, from which we were expected to kick out the fake windows and escape. All I was hearing was 'adventure playground for adults'.

When I got there, I was not disappointed. It was as fun as I had imagined it would be, if not more. I found myself being the only girl on the course for this particular intake, which was OK, everyone was very friendly and polite, though admittedly I felt a little like a Barnum attraction with all the staring. Over my time in this country, I did get used to it but never to the point where it didn't make me feel uncomfortable anymore. The price we pay for having tits and a vagina. If only we had thought this through properly girls, how were these boys ever supposed to be able to get things done with us walking around thoughtlessly flaunting our bumps.

The course lasted for three days and in the evening I would go and hang out in the bar with a couple of British and Russian guys. We were having a great time, it reminded me of being back home again. Sinking pints and having a giggle, swapping cheeky jokes. The conversation was dry and often bordered on the inappropriate. I had missed this. Then suddenly, without a word of warning, we moved effortlessly on to the subject of prostitutes. While my new friends swapped notes on the different ladies they kept at different ports. Wait, didn't one of you just proudly show me pictures of your beautiful wife and two young boys that you have waiting for you back home. I couldn't believe the light tone with which this topic was being discussed. No hint of shame or even embarrassment, from any of them, that I was privy to this avalanche of information. I quickly realised that my presence was of no importance at all. This was a conversation that was held easily and often between such characters. I felt stupid, naïve, sorry for their families, sad, angry..... a well of emotions was building up inside me while I sat there and tried not to let it bubble up all over everyone. I politely made my excuses and left them to swap notes.

Thank goodness I had Dick. Dick was nothing like these guys. When I got up to the hotel room I called him in floods of tears. I don't know if I was more upset with them for behaving the way they do or with myself for my naivety. Dick comforted me and told me not to worry, the next day I would be going home and meeting him straight off the bus at his works party. We were both looking forward to that.

When I arrived at the party, I was tired. It had been a full on three days anyway without the late night tears the evening before and I had just travelled for four hours to get home. Anyway, I promised I would be there so I did a quick change at the airport, motivating myself with the knowledge that once I had a glass of wine, all would be grand. This method of rejuvenation had been successfully tried and tested on many occasions. I walked into the crowded room, the vibe was alive and buzzing, Dick noticed me but immediately drifted back to continue the conversation he was already in. So I took myself to the bar to get that much needed glass of life juice. Life juice in hand, Dick still had not made any attempt to acknowledge me and greet me. This was not an uncommon occurrence actually, it was something he pretty much always did these days. I thought that this time, however, he might make an allowance, on account of the journey I had just taken and knowing that I had been upset the night before. No such luck, so I scanned the room for a familiar face and made a beeline for some conversation that wouldn't involve too much effort on my part. After a lonely and draining evening, we made it home and so in my tired and drunk state I got upset by the fact that he thinks it OK for me to be the last person he acknowledges in a busy room. He reminded me that I was not so insecure and I shouldn't need his attention so much. Wasn't I cool enough to just chill out and take care of myself. Yes of course, sorry I momentarily forgot. No harm done.

Chapter 10 - Life Gives both Glorious Moments and Dollops of Shite in Tandem

Another great thing about this place was the food. With the diversity of people came the diversity of cuisine available. You name the country and you could find the food and more often than not, it would be cooked by the respective native. I was in heaven. I had never been a fussy eater as I grow up in a household with a rule of 'if you don't eat, you don't get'. So you would eat whatever was put in front of you. Despite this, I had always been skinny growing up, I piled some weight on when I lived in the U.S and Scotland but when I left London I was as skinny as they come, on account of all the drugs I had been eating in place of food. Now, unsurprisingly, my figure was changing fast, not helped by the fact I was pretty much always stoned when outside of working hours. I was worried about what Dick would think of me now, we had already stopped having sex regularly. Which was hard for me to take since before we had been 'at it like rabbits' as they say. We would fuck all day and everywhere, all over the flat, on every piece of furniture that could handle us, or well, sometimes couldn't, in the bathrooms of pubs and clubs, on the beach, in the sea, in parks, in the disabled toilets at work (not proud of this one), on the desks at work after hours (a little proud of this one). We couldn't get enough of each other and I loved it, I loved to be wanted, I loved feeling sexy, I loved him loving me.

Now though, truth be told, I was becoming insecure, incredibly insecure. Everything and everyone around me was different and I was expected to suddenly be different. To fit in, to be a good girl, be quiet, be a good wife. He reminded me on many occasion that I was not embarrassing him, I was only embarrassing myself. My sense of humour, which had carried me through my whole life, was now no longer understood. My basic hobbies, which I had in fact forgotten about, were not happening, I didn't run through the country side with a cool breeze in my face, I didn't sit outside and read, I didn't play guitar and sing anymore, I didn't go to the theatre or visit any museums. The core of me was trickling out of its casing and I didn't even know it. The demise was so slow, so subtle, I wasn't even aware of it happening. I was becoming completely one dimensional, a good time girl, who was now getting fat and embarrassing herself, desperately trying to cling on to being the good time girl. Trying to painfully emit the energy that used to make everyone around feel comfortable and happy. The self-inflicted pressure of this got heavier and heavier with each passing day. The pain of Dicks repeated rejections were getting heavier and heavier. I asked him once if it was because I had put on weight that he didn't want to have sex with me anymore, he assured me it was not. He had always been attracted to larger girls, and besides, when he met me, he knew I was not naturally skinny, he could tell that from my flabby arms.

Actually by this point, it seemed the only people who wanted me were the pervy men that would grab me and just full on try to kiss me. It happened a couple of times from taxi drivers. I had also travelled to a town down south for some work I was doing with a local environmental NGO. I took the night bus and arrived at a late night hostel at around 3:00 am to check in for a few hours before heading off to catch an early morning ferry to do some survey work on a nearby island. I was greeted by the late night security guard who kindly helped me upstairs with my bags. When we got upstairs he lingered in my room, looking at me as though his lottery numbers had just come in. He moved closer and, you guessed it, tried to kiss me with his disgusting salivating mouth. I pushed him back and showed him to the door. A rickety old wooden door which thank- goodness, had an iron bolt. I closed it, I bolted it, I was shaking. I could see the shadows of his feet at the bottom of the door while he pondered for a minute on what his next move should be. He sensibly walked away. For the rest of the night, I sat bolt upright on my bed, in fear of sleeping, since this guy was apparently my security, needless to say I did not feel safe to sleep. I ran out of that building the next morning as quickly as I could, shuddering at the thought of what could have been and happy to be moving on to the next day. The next day - which was to include a survey of the coastal marine habitat of a nearby island. What a beautiful opportunity. I am actually proud to say that I contributed to the data analysis for the designation of a Marine Protected Area for this country. One of the proudest achievements in my life. You see, life gives both glorious moments and dollops of shite in tandem, sometimes all in the space of just one day!  

[inspiringvacationstours]

Why Choose Alaska Group Tours For Your Next Adventure?

If you're looking for an unforgettable adventure that combines breathtaking scenery, unique wildlife, and outdoor activities, Alaska is the perfect destination for your next group tour. Alaska offers endless opportunities for exploration, from hiking and fishing to whale watching and glacier cruising. 

With so much to see and do, planning an Alaskan adventure can seem overwhelming. But fear not, the Best small Alaska group tours can take care of all the details and ensure a seamless and memorable experience for you and your group. 

Awe-Inspiring Natural Beauty

When you visit Alaska, you'll see a land of extremes. This state is home to some of the most spectacular natural beauty in the world: glaciers, forests, and mountains. 

But it's not just about seeing this amazing scenery; Alaska also has an abundance of wildlife that can be seen on your trip. You may even find yourself interacting with animals such as bears or wolves (or even moose!) while out exploring!

Alaska is also home to a rich culture and history—it's been inhabited by Native people since time immemorial! And if that weren't enough excitement for you already, there are plenty more adventures waiting for those who decide to take advantage of Alaska group tours: skydiving over glaciers; hiking through rainforest; canoeing through rivers...the list goes on!

Abundance of Wildlife

Alaska is home to a variety of wildlife, including the famous brown bear, moose, caribou, and black bears. The state also boasts two polar bears (the largest land mammal in the world).

Wildlife is abundant in Alaska thanks to its varied climate and terrain. There are wetlands along rivers where you can see musk oxen grazing or watch bald eagles soar above you on their daily flights. 

You might spot grizzly bears while hiking through an Alaskan forest, or if you're lucky enough to be visiting during the salmon season when they're spawning near riverside streams—you'll definitely catch some mighty fine views!

Rich Cultural Heritage

Alaska has a rich cultural heritage that is still very much a part of its current culture. The state was home to the Inupiaq, Yupik, and Aleut peoples for thousands of years before they were brought by Europeans. Alaska’s native people have been interacting with Europeans since before there was an America even though they are only now being recognized by their own government as indigenous peoples.

The state is also home to other indigenous groups such as the Tlingit or Haida who have been living here since time immemorial – but we may never know exactly how long these groups have inhabited this area since there aren't many records left behind by them (or anyone else).

Outdoor Adventures for All

Alaska Group Tours is a great choice for families, couples and groups of all sizes. We offer a variety of outdoor adventures that meet the needs of every traveler on your trip. Whether you're looking to explore nature with your kids or have an adventure by yourself, we can help!

Group tours are designed to give you the best chance of seeing what Alaska has to offer in each area you visit. Each tour includes accommodations, transportation throughout town (if needed), admission fees, and local guides who will provide information about the destination at hand as well as point out interesting sights along the way. 

Conclusion

As you can see, Alaska Group Tours has a lot to offer. Professional guided tours team is passionate about what they do and they believe that their guests will be too. 

If you are ready for an adventure, then they invite you to join them on one of their tours. You won't regret it!

Source Link: https://inspiringvacationsgrouptour.blogspot.com/2023/05/why-choose-alaska-group-tours-for-your.html

[is-solarpunk]

Solarpunk Writing Prompts #14

Here you can listen to original podcast

Here is the source of the podcast's transcript you can read below

Solarpunk Prompts - The Henchmen

Hello world. I'm Tomasino.

This is Solarpunk Prompts, a series for writers where we discuss Solarpunk, a movement that imagines a world where technology is used for the good of the planet.

In this series we spend each episode exploring a single Solarpunk story prompt adding some commentary, some inspirations, and some considerations.

Most importantly, we consider how that story might help us to better envision a sustainable civilization.

If this is your first time here, I'd recommend checking out our introduction episode first, where we talk about what Solarpunk is, why you should care, and why this series came into being.

Without further ado, our prompt today is: "The Henchmen"

A group of mercenaries, bodyguards and defense contractors are hired by a billionaire to protect him in his remote stronghold after the great market collapse. Their boss eventually grew bored and ordered them to harass people from neighboring villages, barely making ends meet. He didn't expect the bodyguards to turn on him. Now, after their boss had an unfortunate accident, these security personnel, with no experience in community building or with the local language, are trying to open up the stronghold and join their distrusting neighbors.

Our prompt today is all about breaking expectations. How would a post-apocalyptic stronghold work? What sort of people work security for a loner billionare? How could a bunch of mercenaries turn to community building?

In typical post-apocalyptic narratives we face the same challenge: things are terrible and made worse by people. How do we get away or insulate ourselves from that awfulness?

The idea of humanity turning on itself is at its most extreme in the guise of zombies, where all has been reduced to mindless hordes of selfishly hungry who want what you have, even if it's just your flesh.

That is a powerful narrative and it has driven so much cultural art that it's become second nature to envision our future reality in that dim light.

But is it realistic? Can we really expect the worst to come from our communities?

“When a disaster strikes, like the flooding in Houston [after Hurricane Harvey], for example, you see everyday people pouring out all this generosity and solidarity,” says Christian Parenti, associate professor of economics at John Jay College in New York City. “Suddenly the idea that everything should have a price on it, and the idea that selfishness and competition are good, all that just gets parked. Suddenly, everyone is celebrating cooperation, solidarity, bravery, sacrifice, and generosity.”

And that's not a unique reaction in the face of hardship, nor is it new. Our shared history is filled with stories of calamity and just as many stories of community standing together and facing it as a group.

If anything, our methods have improved over the generations. We're not simply picking up the pieces, we're building new things, better things.

[A] clear illustration of how grassroots disaster relief can lead to larger initiatives comes out of Puerto Rico post-Hurricane Maria, where what started in the town of Caguas as a volunteer-run community kitchen soon transformed into an island-wide network of community centers, known as Mutual Aid Centers. Today, these centers provide more than just meals — they offer all sorts of services related to art, education, and therapy. Even acupuncture.

Disaster Collectivism

Stories like this about disaster collectivism are plentiful. If you'd like to hear many, many more, check out The Response: a documentary and podcast series exploring how communities respond to crises, both in their immediate aftermath and over a period of months and years.

You'll find a link in the notes.

For our story the question becomes how to we buck these trends and write something that captures this idea, disaster collectivism, and makes it engaging and exciting, while also reaffirming the notion that this is the realistic future, not Mad Max.

Where do we start? Well, just like the prompt itself, I'd recommend we start with that false assumption.

Take our billionare, for instance. What was he planning? How did he think this was going to work? He hired armed men to protect him. How was he expecting to stay in charge when money stopped existing? When they were no longer being paid?

Let's not kid ourselves here, he must have thought about it. He must have a plan of some sort, because the billionares running around today planning their own assylums and hideaway bunkers are thinking about it.

Oh yes, that's a very real thing, and it's a booming industry. Prepper communities have bulk bunkers across the world, and many individual billionares have plans within plans for their final escapes.

When the humanist, Douglas Rushkoff, was whisked off to the desert to meet a mysterious cabal of "ultra-wealthy stakeholders", this was one of their talking points with him.

[Some] billionaires considered using special combination locks on the food supply that only they knew. Or making guards wear disciplinary collars of some kind in return for their survival. Or maybe building robots to serve as guards and workers – if that technology could be developed “in time”.

Our story billionare surely had thoughts along the same lines. When he met his untimely end, did that release the stockpiles to his henchmen or is it locked away behind an impenetrable door, wasted.

For the start of the story, we must think for a moment not as the Solarpunk futurist but as the power-mad capitalist.

After his meeting with the billionare preppers, Ruskoff described them as:

Taking their cue from Tesla founder Elon Musk colonising Mars, Palantir’s Peter Thiel reversing the ageing process, or artificial intelligence developers Sam Altman and Ray Kurzweil uploading their minds into supercomputers, they were preparing for a digital future that had less to do with making the world a better place than it did with transcending the human condition altogether.

[to them] “winning” means earning enough money to insulate themselves from the damage they are creating by earning money in that way.

Douglas Rushkoff Story - Original Source

Douglas Rushkoff Story - Updated Source

Once we've spent an uncomfortable moment inside that existential despair, we can return again to our more probable future. By setting up the story with that false premise we have sown expectation into the reader who now awaits the riots of the people or the betrayal of a minion who will then take the place of warlord.

Instead, the rug is pulled! And in that confusion anything is possible, both for our henchmen and for our reader.

Here are people who don't know how to communicate well let alone form communities. They are in charge now, right? The boss is gone, they have the guns. But that's not right, and it's not what they want. The see a community struggling and they want to help because that's what humans do in a crisis. That's how we react, for real.

So now they have choices to make. They're going to open their doors and share with these people for a start. And maybe in that process they'll slowly learn to trust one another rather than be traumatized.

It's a story of two communities merging.

Violence is not the answer. It won't bring them more food or water without taking it from someone else. It's through community and collaboration that they'll grow.

Lets recall, The prompt says The Great Market Collapse, not The Great Civilizational Collapse. The world is in chaos seeing a death of capitalism, but the people are alive, just confused and afraid. The villages around the stronghold may not want to venture into the bigger cities, fearing riots and political upheaval, but farms still function, people live their day-to-day lives.

Consider where this story might take place? It's a spot on the map somewhere. Is it somewhere in Southeast Asia, perhaps, where a lot of the Billionaires decided to build their bunkers? Who lives in the villages? Do the children tend to stay when they grow older, or flee to the big cities as soon as they can? If so, have they came back since the Market Collapse, trying to find a new place in the world with skills intended for a different one? Each community has their own problems independent of the Stronghold.

The villages may not speak the Henchmen's language, but maybe their kids do, maybe one who returned home with more exposure to the world. Is there a defacto mediator or group of them among the children?

The tension is there from the start. By the time the Billionaire is out of the picture bodyguards may have already earned a bad reputation with the locals. How can the villagers - who are not stupid - trust their new neighbours?

Character and community growth are the theme, and growth stories are wonderful for their trials and failures.

In a sense, even our opening bluff is one of these, where the billionare is faced with a trial and his failure to grow is what empowers our henchemen.

It could be an interesting perspective choice as well. A story could begin from the point of view of that wealthy prepper and really sell the idea of what sort of story this will be, right up until his bitter end.

"Oh, that didn't work," is a wonderful thing to have your reader say as they move into chapter two.

And maybe that trend could continue throughout. Maybe our henchmen need to fail a few times themselves before they get the lesson.

Disaster collectivism is a noble pursuit, and one which seems to come naturally to communities in trouble. But it isn't a painless process, and each step along the way may not go as planned.

The struggles and growth of your characters and community are what makes it engaging and exciting, and will reaffirm the notion that this, this right here, is our realistic future,

And that's what Solarpunk is all about.

Until next time, I'm Tomasino. I hope you'll join me for the next Solarpunk Prompt.

Music in this recording is taiyou hikou by Yago Omoikane from Global Pattern's compilation Solarpunk: A Brighter Perspective

[powerwashingmrcleanllc]

Things To Do In And Around JoppaTown, MD

The JoppaTown area is a beautiful part of Maryland that offers many fun activities for people of all ages. You can explore the Baltiore Coast, take in some local theater and catch a show at one of the historic theaters there. There are also plenty of natural trails to explore and even some great restaurants where you can enjoy delicious food while sitting on their outdoor patios!

Explore the Baltiore Coast

If you're looking for a little adventure, the Baltiore Coast is the place to be. Whether you want to hike through the woods or go kayaking on the bay, there are plenty of options for outdoor enthusiasts.

Here are some of our favorites:

Take a hike at Assateague Island National Seashore. This park offers miles upon miles of trails where you can see ponies and other wildlife as well as stunning views of Assateague Island and Chincoteague Bay.

Go kayaking or canoeing on Chesapeake Bay with Blue Water Sailing School. You'll have access to their fleet of boats including catamarans if you want something bigger than your typical kayak! They offer group tours during which one guide will accompany everyone so no one gets lost (or stuck). If this sounds like too much work then opt instead for their private tours where they'll take care of everything while still providing an exciting experience!

Upper Falls

The Upper Falls is a great place to hike. The falls are part of the Patapsco Valley State Park, which also includes nearby Patapsco River State Park.

If you're looking for something more relaxing, head over to JoppaTown's historic district and take in some of its historic sites like St. John's Episcopal Church or Mount Carmel Cemetery.

Catch A Show At Hippodrome Theater

The Hippodrome Theater is the oldest continuously operating theater in Baltimore, and has been entertaining audiences for over 110 years. It's currently home to several shows, including:

"The Addams Family" (October 2-6)

"Cabaret" (October 9-13)

"Mamma Mia!" (October 16 - 20)

This historic venue offers something for everyone, from musicals to dramas! If you're looking for family entertainment that can be enjoyed by the whole family--and even grandparents--the Hippodrome Theater is an excellent choice!

Abingdon

Abingdon is a small town in Harford County, Maryland. It's an excellent place to visit for its waterfront and history.

Abingdon was founded around 1711 when William Allen built Abingdon Manor on land he had purchased from William Penn's sons. The town grew slowly until the Civil War when it became home to many wealthy residents who fled Baltimore City due to fears of invasion by Confederate forces. Today you can find several historic homes here dating back as far as 1740!

There are a lot of fun things to do in this area.

Whether you're looking for a place to vacation or live, this is an area that has a lot to offer. There are many things to do in JoppaTown, MD. You can go hiking at one of the many parks, visit one of the historical sites or museums, rent kayaks and paddle around in the Chesapeake Bay, go boating on Lake Roland (just outside of town), shop at local shops like The Mercantile or The Granary Gallery & Gifts and eat delicious food at local restaurants like La Tolteca Mexican Restaurant & Bar or Joppa Town Diner (which serves breakfast all day!).

We hope that you've enjoyed reading about some of the fun things to do in JoppaTown, MD!

Mr. Clean Power Washing, LLC is a local pressure washing service that serves residential and commercial customers in the State College area. Our friendly, knowledgeable technicians will clean your property and make it look great. With state-of-the-art equipment and years of experience we provide a quality job at an affordable rate.

Mr. Clean Power Washing, LLC 702A Pulaski Hwy Suite D, Joppatowne, MD 21085 (443) 961-1980 https://mrcleanpowerwashingllc.com/ https://www.google.com/maps?cid=9090854934779553684

[keywestexcursions1]

Sunset Boat Tours in Key West

Sunset has been a celebration in Key West every evening forever. There are plenty of ways to enjoy it, but getting out on the water on one of the many Key West sunset charters should be on everyone’s island visit bucket list.

Picking the right boat cruise is critical–and there are many choices. It doesn’t matter if you want to find the best booze cruise Key West offers or a quiet, intimate sail–choices abound. Be sure to make your sunset sailing plans early in the day–these trips fill up as the day goes on. If you’re eyeing a private charter during a busy time of year, it’s best to make plans before you get to the island.

Sunset in Key West – It's a Tradition, It's a Party, It's an Event

Some may find it quirky and weird, but celebrating every sunset is a staple of island life. Everyone celebrates differently. For some, it’s an excuse to take a moment to unwind after a busy day–to enjoy a little peace, quiet, and natural beauty. For others, it’s an excuse to meet friends for a drink or to get the party started.

For the locals, sunset traditions are a daily ritual. So what will you do today? Claim your favorite chair by the beach? Join the crowds in Mallory Square? Or maybe just take the boat out and just let it drift in the harbor while the sun slides below the horizon?

But you don’t have to be a local to enjoy a Key West sunset celebration all your own.

Key West has many options, both on land and on the water. But the absolute best sunset experiences happen on a boat.

Why You Need to Book a Sunset Cruise When Visiting Key West, Florida

The best sunset views come from getting a little ways off the island. Not only will you have an uninterrupted vista of the horizon, but you’ll also get the benefits of looking back at the island or watching dolphins play.

There is something beautifully serene about watching day turn to night from the water. The sunset sail Key West offers is a unique experience. It allows you to taste island life from the local’s point of view. You can even dive in with a Key West dinner cruise to combine a great meal and lively entertainment.

You aren’t short of booze cruise options, from party barge to tipsy tiki. Sail on a historic schooner and enjoy tapas and wine, or feel the beats on a charter catamaran with 50 of your closest friends.

Sunset Tours Key West — Your Options

Picking the best sunset cruise Key West has to offer your group means picking your vibe and picking your boat. Do you want a sailing experience with nothing but the sound but the wind in the sails, or does the boat not matter as much as the live band, open bar, or dinner buffet?

Private Sunset Charters

The first choice is whether you want to grab a seat on a big boat or charter a boat all to yourself. Both are easy to find on the island. The private sunset cruise Key West options are generally offered on smaller boats, both power and sail, that seat six passengers or less.

Private charters are a great way to combine excursions as well. For example, you might want to spend the afternoon at the sandbar or snorkeling on the reef and time the arrival back into town perfectly for sunset. Most charter boat captains are happy to oblige.

Each company does things differently, but generally, you can expect these cruises to have water and sometimes other refreshments or snacks. Generally, they’re more of a BYOB (Bring Your Own Booze) cruise since the boats are small and every customer wants something a little different.

Catamaran Sunset Cruise Key West

Power catamarans hold a crowd but still have room for everyone to spread out. Several local operators sell sunset tours per person and fill the boat up. This is the opposite of the private charter since you’ll share your cruise with strangers. But on the other hand, it’s a great way for individuals or couples to see the sunset from the water without chartering an entire boat.

Sunset Dinner Cruise Key West

Each sunset cruise is a bit different. There are a few that operate buffet-style dinner cruises. These usually include live music and a full bar. In some cases, it’s an open bar; in others, it’s pay as you go. Dinners range from wine and cheese to full-service buffets– it all depends on the boat and how it’s set up.

Sunset Sailing Charters

Chartering a sailboat for your sunset cruise is an entirely different experience. Sailboats are more traditional, and you’ll likely enjoy a mellower and more laid-back experience. Sailing is about the quiet time on the water, drifting slowly like the sun toward the horizon. Since there’s no rush to get to sunset, sailboats make a great choice for sunset cruises.

Sailboats range from smaller six-passenger charters to large catamarans. Check out a schooner sunset sail Key West style for a special treat!

Historic Schooner Sunset Sails

Key West has been a popular port of call for sailors for hundreds of years. A handful of beautiful schooners and historic wood sailboats call Key West home.

Schooner cruises vary in size and complexity depending on the boat. Some are smaller with fewer passengers and a more intimate setting. Some are larger with a bigger crowd. Some serve wine and hors d’oeuvres, while others feature a full bar.

Booze Cruise Key West

In Key West, the party doesn’t get started until the sun touches the horizon. So you won’t have to look far if searching for the best booze cruise Key West offers.

Plenty of boats offer full bars, but don’t assume that everyone does. For example, some boats are BYOB–which is very common on smaller private charters. Also, don’t assume that an open bar means anything you want–most boats have limited space to carry supplies, so you won’t find the selection you will back on land.

Live Music Cruises

Many of the best sunset dinner cruise Key West charters have live music. While small boats will have sound systems and allow you to play your own tunes, some larger boats often feature live bands. Steel drums are an especially popular way to ring in the new evening.

A Key West sunset cruise with live music is a special event, to be sure, so ask around and see which charters are offering which types of music. You’re bound to find something right up your alley.

Tiki Sunset Cruise Key West

The tiki is a six-passenger vessel that makes for the perfect–and utterly unique–Key West sunset experience. Most tiki cruises, despite their name, are BYOB–not the typical sunset booze cruise Key West is known for. Check with your operator to see what’s included. Some charters are on round tikis that move slowly and stay near the town, while others are built on fast-moving pontoon boats and can take you to the reef for snorkeling or the backcountry for sandbar tours.

Sunset Cruise in Key West FAQs

Best sunset cruise?

The best sunset cruise Key West offers will depend on your party and what you’re looking for. Sunset sails vary greatly, from the type of boat, the number of people aboard, and the vibe. Some are party boats with open bars, dinner buffets, and live music, while others are intimate sails with only your close friends and the captain.

Best sunset cruise with music?

Several operators offer a Key West sunset cruise with live music. If you’re specifically seeking a type of music or a particular vibe, ask around and see which cruise best suits your group. A few options include Fury’s Commotion on the Ocean, Sunset Watersports’, or Sebago’s sailing catamaran sunset cruise Key West.

What is the best way to watch the sun set in Key West?

There are a lot of ways to see the sunset. Of course, most people want to catch the “official” sunset celebration in Mallory Square at least once during their visit. But on a sunset sail, Key West really comes alive. From the water, sunsets are especially beautiful–plus, you’ll get to enjoy a tranquil evening on the water, too. Private or per- person charters are available in any kind of boat–power or sail, BYOB, or booze cruise.

[owlmylove]

Just had the very distressing thought that if I ever want to have a girlfriend I'm gonna have to TALK to a girl?!?!??!?!?!?

I'd have to talk to a girl that I LIKE and HAVE A CRUSH ON?!?!? Impossible! Please help a distressed lesbian if you have any advice

okay so: in my personal experience 90% of all lesbian flirting is eyeing up fellow women to discreetly try to determine if they, too, are wlw. then you compliment each others button downs and never speak to each other again

BUT if you would like to painstakingly attempt to challenge the starfish fallacy then read on for my comprehensive guide on flirting w/ women! (credentials: i have accidentally flirted with So Many Women oh my god)

first up: start with the art of compliments! if you're too shy to tell a girl they're gorg out of nowhere, then focus on their clothing, their haircuts, their cool shoes, the patches on their denim jackets, etc. opening a convo with a compliment is one of the easiest shortcuts, as it neatly prevents you from having to come up w/ a witty rejoinder right off the bat (save those for later)

physical proximity makes it easy to do this to someone standing or sitting next to you. if, however, they're on the other side of the room/otherwise engaged, it gets trickier. if ur confident enough to walk up to a girl in a coffeeshop + compliment her, GO FOR IT. but if you're too anxious to just coldcall her, approach with a question.

you can warp the compliment to fit the question, i.e. "Hey! Sorry to interrupt [your reading], but your book looks super interesting/I've seen it around & am debating whether to buy it. Would you recommend it?" or, re: outfits/haircuts "Hey! Your ____ is super cute, can I ask where you got it [done]?" if they're a classmate/coworker, you can make it even less direct: "Hey! Do you know when we're scheduled to do ____?" (<- this one comes w/ the perk of, pending her response, immediately asking for her # to swap shifts or trade notes, which can quickly allow for inviting her to a study group/after work drinks with coworkers. speedrun!!)

once Conversation is Initiated, maintain eye contact, listen attentively to their replies, and keep smiling/smizing. if they're reticent, follow up with more questions unless you're getting fuck off vibes ("I'm trying to get more into reading lately, would you have any other reccs?" or, "I haven't found a hairstylist yet since I moved here from _____, are there any other local spots you'd recommend?")

BUT if they're returning eye contact, smiling, and keeping open body language towards you, make it a full-on convo! offer some personal details in return, don't be afraid to make (non-risky!!!!) jokes, and (if you can control when & where you're moving, i.e. not during a job or class) have a built-in exit.

even if convos are going good, it's polite (+ leaves them wanting more via scarcity principle, etc. etc.) to end a brief first-time convo after a few minutes, ideally before the energy winds down & you're left feeling awkward. "it's been so lovely meeting you! [insert name here], right? I've got to get going, but thanks for the ___!" if you wanna play the long game/are in a coffeeshop/aren't confident enough yet (no shame!) ask if she comes here regularly and say you hope to see her around sometime soon.

if you've managed to get a good enough energy going: ask if she has an insta/social media you could get for _____ purpose, i.e. letting her know if you like the book/music/media she recc'd or asking for more local spots. IF, however, you don't wanna put yourself at the whim of her generosity: give yourself a cheat code during the initial conversation.

namely; reference something you'd recommend, think she'd find funny, or can't believe she hasn't seen yet, etc. etc. then, at the end of the convo, you can naturally offer "Oh! Lemme send you that X I mentioned--do you have an insta/social?" et voila. asking for social is always less awk/direct than asking for phone numbers, AND it lets the flirtee decide whether she wants to offer that level of trust just yet

if you're not coldcall flirting a girl in public, but rather have an object of your affections at work or school: this formula works p. much the same, but on a slower scale (if you don't use my speedrun ofc) start building a rapport via compliments/questions, progress to chatting briefly whenever you see each other, and third step: say "I saw something yesterday that totally reminded me of you/I just have to send to you!! Here-do I have your insta yet?"

once you have someone's insta: continue chatting when you see them irl/replying to their stories over social, and see if you can pay close enough attention to what she likes to do. judging by the number of accidental lesbian dates i've been on, it's probably

art museum

botanical gardens, or

burlesque shows

however, hikes, used bookstores, underground shows, and grocery shopping together for a subsequent picnic also feature prominently. invite her to do whatever activity you think you'd both enjoy most (over social or irl, whichever you're comfortable with [tho irl gives you a better judge of facial expressions/body language]) and boom. if she says yes, shoot back "it's a date!" after setting the day/time, bc if she's anywhere near as clueless as i am (i'm so sorry wlw) they may honestly think you're still just friends.

if, over the course of your irl convos or DMs, you have the chance to casually mention your sexuality (patches, pride is coming up, mention "my teenage crush/my ex-girlfriend") and ask for hers, go for it. if you can be direct: ask directly. it will save you time, trouble, and mild heartbreak. but if you suffer from the conflict avoidance that plagues lo so many of us: just lean into the subtext.

offer your celebrity crushes and ask what hers are. mention an ex (BRIEFLY, in connection to another topic entirely [she recc'd this cool band to me!] and always in a positive context). wear birkenstocks or docs and say Portrait of a Lady on Fire is the best film of all time, say you listen to girl in red or w/e those charming youths do. just lay the foundation in barely-subtext and keep an eye on her responses, while accepting the risk of wooing what may or may not be a fellow wlw

once you are, in point of fact, ON the date: standard rules and rates apply. relax! be urself!! enjoy spending time with a cool person, regardless of what may or may not come of it!!!! if she seems into it lean into physical proximity, do the whole Tarzan hand-comparison wlw are addicted to, offer to feed her bites of food or swap sips of each other's drinks, and casually set intentions for future plans ("I've never heard of X cafe--we'll have to do that next time!" or, the infamous buy-her-smth-secretly and then offer "You can get mine next time c:")

again, the most important thing is to be sincere. it's good not to place too many expectations on the other person, but don't force yourself to be overly "chill" if you are not, in point of fact, a chill person. dating is always a process of getting to know one another, and it's important to be polite but pls don't feel like you have to follow a script or be someone you're not. just be you babe: you're already plenty lovable. godspeed + good luck!!<33

[watchmegetobsessed]

Dead Or Alive - Harry Styles

a/n: oof okay hello! this is a little different, i guess? but im very excited to share this with you! don’t ask me how i got the idea for this, no clue but it was stuck in my head for days before i finally gave in and started writing it. please share your thoughts and comments on it, i would love to read them!! hope you’ll enjoy it!

pairing: Wanted!Harry x BountyHunter!Reader

warning: violence, talks of drugs, murder, guns, i really lost track of it lol

word count: 15.2k

masterlist

The man in the handcuffs growls in pain again, but you just yank him forward, not in the mood to deal with a whining girl trapped in a six feet tall disgusting looking, oily-faced bald man in his forties.

“Y/N! What do we got today?” Jeremy greets you at the front desk, thumbs hooked into his belt as he watches you tug the guy into the hall of the station, pushing him down to the nearest seat as you step to Jeremy who is already handing you the paperwork.

“Dennis Delgado. Took me a few days to find him, but he couldn’t hide forever,” you grin proudly as you grab a pen and start filling the papers out.

Jeremy walks over to Dennis who just looks up at the officer in disgust. It’s not enough that he is a child molester disgusting prick, he is racist on top of everything and now Jeremy is enjoying having the higher ground, Dennis trapped in his handcuffs while Jeremy will be the one to get him behind bars for a long time.

“Nice one. We’ll have a lot of fun with this one,” Jeremy chuckles. “Want me to ring up your brother?”

“Is he in? Would love to have a word with him,” you nod smiling. When you’re done with the papers you hand them over to Stella, the receptionist who gets to work with them right away so you can get your money.

“Sure, I’ll get him for you on my way,” Jeremy nods, grabbing Dennis by his arm, pulling him along on his way to the elevators. “Come on you scumbag, you have a cell waiting with your name on it.”

The two of them disappear and you get into a little chit-chat with Stella while she is finishing up the paperwork. Leaning against the counter you look around, officers come and go in the hall, all of them dressed in their uniform and for a moment you picture yourself wearing the same outfit. At one point in your life it seemed to be part of your future, but now it would be the most ridiculous sight. Y/N, the best bounty hunter in the region in a police uniform? That’s not happening.

The elevator dings and your brother, Robert walks out. He on the other hand, made this vision happen. He has been an officer for about ten years now and though at first he was outraged that you chose the not so gracious lifestyle of a bounty hunter, but you soon became his unofficial partner, handing him over a wanted person every few days, making his work easier. Everyone at the station knows that Robert is the one who plays by the rules, doing everything according to the handbook, the perfect officer, always working to keep up the peace in town while you are… Well, you are a rebel. You could never play by the rules, always sneaking ways to do things according to your desires. You never liked if someone wanted to tell you what to do and how to do it, you are not a team player or either one that can easily managed by higher forces. It didn’t take long for you to realize your nature will never let you be an officer so you chose the other path that’s somewhere near joining the police, but still playing by your own rules.

Being a female bounty hunter wasn’t the easiest when you started off at the young age of seventeen. In desperate need of the extra money after the tragic passing of both your parents, the two of you had to get along on Robert’s slim, beginner paycheck. He was only twenty-three, started working at the station just a year prior, you knew you had to help him out. He kept bringing up cases, worked on them through the nights and when he passed you on the couch from exhaustion, you sneaked your way into the dining room and looked for easy targets. Speeding tickets, light drug trafficking, whatever you could deal with as a high schooler.

Robert hated the idea of you dealing with wanted people, you had endless fights about it, but you were too stubborn to stop and besides, you liked the adrenaline rush you got whenever you caught another one and brought them back to the station. Loved the stunned and shocked looks on the older officers when you managed to catch a bigger fish. It took Robert a few years to come to peace with your choice of lifestyle and now he doesn’t even try to talk you down. Instead, he keeps bringing you cases that pay well and he knows you’d like them.

“Who did you catch this time?” he grins at you, walking up to you and he envelopes you in a short hug.

“Just got Dennis Delgado, Jeremy took him.”

“Poor Dennis, he’ll have a rough evening,” Robert chuckles. “Did you get your money?”

“Stella is already working on it,” you nod towards the lady behind you.

“Oh, I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” Stella pushes herself back from her desk and walks over to you with an envelope filled with your reward.

“Amazing, thank you, Stella,” you grin at her happily. Dennis was worth a little more than the usual, you are well covered for the rest of the month thanks to him.

“Do you have something coming next?” Robert asks, hands on his hips as he watches you put the money away into your backpack.

“Not yet. Got something exciting for me?”

“An old friend,” he nods with a small smile. He reaches behind the counter and grabs a flyer, handing it over to you, a familiar face staring back at you from the photo this time.

Harry Styles is a name you’ve heard plenty of times and you know him well by now. You actually went to high school with him, you were just never in the same group. He was labeled as troubled all through his teenage years, his parents were brutally killed when he was just a kid, he was tossed around from one foster family to the other, moving around town every few months. It was no surprised when he got into some darker circles, he almost got kicked out of school right before graduation but somehow managed to stick around to get his diploma at the end.

You have actually handed him in a few times before. Never for anything bigger than drug trafficking or robbing smaller shops downtown, Harry is actually not as bad as people tend to portray him to be, he was just not blessed with the best background as most people. He is a smart guy and would never hurt anyone for real, this is why you are now staring down at his flyer shocked.

He is wanted for the murder of a local man who was found dead a few days ago in his home, Harry’s hair was found near the body with no other evidence.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask Robert with a concerned look. This doesn’t feel right. Not that you know Harry that well, but it’s very unlike him.

“Very much. His hair was the only thing we found near the body of Dave RIchards so evidently, he is our number one suspect.”

“I don’t know, this doesn’t sound right,” you think to yourself, staring down at the mug shot of him that was taken the last time you brought him in for selling weed to underage kids. You remember it exactly, because bringing Harry in is always… fun, if you could say that.

That last time, he was already expecting you, waiting around in his usual motel room that is somewhat considered as his home.

“My Y/N! You arrived earlier than I expected!” he greeted you when you kicked his door in. He was sitting in the middle of the double bed, rolling a joint as always, not a care in the world about your arrival.

“You knew I was coming?” you cocked your head to the side walking in and stopping at the end of the bed, watching him finish the joint and simply light it before taking a big puff.

“Of course. I was informed I’m on your list again, just thought you’d give me a few more hours, but it’s alright.” He waved around carelessly before holding out the joint in your way, offering you to try it.

“No thanks, I don’t trust your sketchy stuff.”

“That hurt!” he gasped dramatically, placing a hand to his tattooed chest that was partially on display since his shirts are never buttoned all the way up.

You brought him in that day, stopping for McDonald’s on your way to the station before handing him over to Robert. He was actually a great guy, nice sense of humor and good looks, you never thought otherwise, he was just moving around in different circles than you so you were left with the few jokes he always cracked when you took him in every few months.

“Well, it’s not your job to question his innocence. Want to take the job or not?” Robert asks you.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll find him,” you nod and fold the flyer, sliding it into your back pocket.

Normally, you take the rest of the day for yourself after turning someone in, but this situation with Harry just bugs you way more than to just go home and pretend like it’s not all you can think about. Harry is not a murderer, he would never randomly kill a man, he is not a psycho, just a guy with a rough background and some poor life decisions.

You know the route to the motel like the back of your hand. Arriving to the dodgy parking lot you park your car in the far end before taking one last look at the flyer. Then you push it into your backpack and get out, heading to Harry’s room with firm steps. You see no lights on, the door is closed and you almost don’t even get closer, thinking he is not here when you see someone move around inside.

You are almost at the door when a hand covers your mouth and an arm wraps around your body, pulling you back forcefully. It takes you a moment to recover from the shock as you are yanked backwards, but as you are being dragged towards the alleyway next to the motel you elbow your attacker in the stomach before kicking them in the knees. The hands fall from around you and turning around you pull out your pocket knife, ready to cut throats right away, but you are shocked to see Harry hunched over, groaning in pain as he holds his arm to his stomach.

“The fuck, Y/N?!” he growls, his chocolate curls falling forward, they’ve definitely gotten longer since the last time you saw him, he could easily put them up into a bun now. “What was that for?” he whispers in disbelief, his green eyes meeting yours in a scowl.

“What the fuck do you mean? You attacked me!”

“I didn’t attack you, I was trying to fucking save you!”

“From what?!”

“From the fucking asshole in my room who is four times bigger than you and would have probably shot you the moment you kicked my door in like you always fucking do!”

It’s just now processing in you that if Harry is here, the person you saw in the room can’t be him and he surely looked bulky. Harry runs his hand through his hair, straightening up from his hunched position before he sighs tiredly. He looks… worn-out, even more than he usually does. The dark circles under his eyes and beat-up knuckles are new, he usually looks fine despite everything that goes on in his life, but this is a version of him you haven’t seen. He has definitely been through some shit lately.

“What are you doin—“

“No time for questions now, we have to get out of here,” he cuts you off, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the alleyway to another parking lot on the other side of the motel. You spot his old jeep right away, but you yank your hand out of his hold, stopping in your tracks.

“Wait, my car is there!”

“We’ll come back for that later, but they can’t find you here with me or they’ll be after you as well,” he explains, grabbing your hand again as he pulls you towards the car and this time you follow him blindly.

You get into his jeep without even questioning it, not even caring that he is a man who is currently wanted for murder. Your instinct is telling you that you’re completely fine with him and you believe it. The two of you head out of town, taking the route to the next town nearby, but he takes a turn to the left, the jeep rolling onto a dirty road leading along fields filled with wildflowers. You have a guess where you’re going, there are some abandoned cabins near the woods that used to function as vacation homes, but they were slowly left to stand empty for eternity when a luxury resort was built on the other side of the woods.

“Care to tell me what the fuck just happened?” you ask him calmly, turning to look at him. He has one hand on the wheel, while his other elbow is resting on the armrest, fingers tapping on his chapped, pink lips.

“I’m in… deep shit, Y/N,” he admits with a sigh, eyes glued to the road ahead of him.

“No shit, you killed someone?”

“I didn’t,” he states, his eyes meeting yours for a moment to emphasize his truth. “It was a fucking set up and now they are after me every way possible.”

“Who is? And what did you do to get into so much trouble?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we arrive, okay?”

You sit in silence for the rest of the ride until you finally arrive to the cabins. You follow Harry inside one of them and it seems like he has set his base up here a few days ago. There’s a double bed with blankets thrown over it and a few mismatched pillows, a sports bag with his clothes and a few grocery bags on the dusty kitchen counter, candles everywhere since there’s probably no power in the cabin. You wonder how long he has been camping out here.

“About a week ago I got a visit from Hugo McKain, you’ve heard about him?” he asks as he grabs a bottled water from one of the grocery bags and fills up two plastic cups, handing you one of them.

“Sure. I’ve heard that… he is a big fish,” you nod.

“Yeah. He wanted me to work for him, but I sincerely rejected the offer, however it didn’t sit well with him. He threatened me that if I’m not selling his stuff, then I won’t sell anyone else’s stuff,” he explains, walking over to the bed and he sits at the edge, staring at the cup in his hands. “He gave me another day to change my mind, but I said that I don’t want to get involved with any of the heavy shit he deals with. I was hoping he would just willing to forget about it, but apparently, he is not the kind to just let shit go,” he chuckles bitterly. “A few days ago he sent two of his men after me, but I was able to run away. I was ready to pack my shit up and just leave the state forever, but then the fucking asshole framed me for the murder of that guy. A friend called me to let me know that I’m the only suspect in the case and that my face has been sent out already everywhere in the state. Hugo made it impossible for me to leave, I would be caught the moment I stop to pump fucking gas in my car,” he growls in annoyance. “So it’s a whole shit show, the police and Hugo are after me and I’m fucking stuck here.”

You stand there at a complete loss of words, because though you have no evidence if he is telling you the truth, you just know he is and the situation is fucking miserable. Harry drinks his water and throws the cup into a plastic bag that serves as a trashcan, his fingers running through his hair nervously.

“Do you know who killed the guy?” you speak up after some silence.

“Yeah, one of his men called Axel, he is a proper idiot, I’m actually surprised he didn’t leave his DNA back, just mine,” Harry scoffs.

“If you know they are after you, what were you doing at the motel?” you ask, leaning against the wall, curiously eyeing him as he glances up at you.

“Knew you’d come after me, didn’t want them to pull you into this mess too.”

Your eyebrows rise at his words. He went back because of you? Harry notices your surprise, a smug smirk tugging on his lips.

“What? Couldn’t let them lay a finger on my Y/N, right?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. He has always been so flirty with you since day one, always trying to pull your leg, chatting your ears off in hopes that he can finally drag you to bed one day. But you never give in, it all stays just some empty flirting and a playful banter.

“So what are you going to do now?” you ask clearing your throat. There’s just always been something in the way he calls you his Y/N that makes you a tad bit nervous.

“That’s an excellent question to which… I have no answer,” he truthfully admits.

“You can’t hide here forever.”

“You tryna’ lure me into going to the station with you?” he asks with a grin. “To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t cuffed me yet. You love that stuff, don’t you?” Harry stands from the bed and strides over to you, the height difference between the two of you forcing you to tilt your head up a little as he smirks down at you, enjoying that he has successfully made you blush. “Question is, have you been the one in the cuffs?”

You part your lips with the intention of answering, but nothing comes out. Harry smirks down at you, so full of himself before stepping away.

“Anyway, I think I’m just gonna lay low here for a while and then hopefully I’ll be able to sneak out of town at one point.”

“You wanna stay here?” you ask looking around. The place is fine for just a few nomad days, but staying here for more seems impossible. There’s no electricity, probably no water, some of the windows are broken in, the temperature must drop drastically in the nights so close to the woods.

“Not that I have any other choices,” he huffs, opening a bag of chips from the groceries.

“Don’t you have any friends who can share their couch with you for a while?”

“You think anyone would want to hide a dude who is wanted for murder and who is also in trouble with Hugo McKain? Baby, even if any of my friends were willing to help, I wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t want to pull them into my shit. Besides, Hugo is probably already keeping tabs of all my friends, he has the connections to know everything about me.”

“And what about me?” you suddenly ask. Harry freezes, eyes flickering at you in confusion.

“What about you?”

“Would he look for you at mine?”

Now it’s his turn to rock a stunned expression, eyebrows shooting up as he stares back at you. He wasn’t expecting it, but truth is neither did you. However it doesn’t take him long to turn it into something entirely sexual.

“You know, if you wanted to see me in your bed, you should have just asked.”

Luckily, you don’t fall under his spell this time. Rolling your eyes you put the cup to the nearest surface and head to the door.

“Alright, changed my mind. Have fun camping out here on your own,” you mumble, reaching for the doorknob, but he is quick to get between you and the door, stopping you from leaving.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was just not expecting you to make that offer, alright?” You take a step back, folding your arms on your chest. “Were you serious about that?”

“It seemed like an option. I doubt you’d be expected to be at my place.”

“And you’d actually let me stay there?”

“I guess a few days wouldn’t hurt. Until you figure out what to do.”

Harry stares at you in awe, like you just did the best thing ever for him and the thought that he never had anyone to do such favor for him is kind of heartbreaking. He might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but there’s just something in him.

You help him pack his stuff back into the jeep, leaving the weathered cabin empty again before you head back to town. Harry drops you off a few blocks from the motel so you can walk back to your car, you glance at his door just once, it’s still closed but they could easily still be there.

Harry is already at your place when you arrive to your building, waiting around in his jeep, he has put a beanie and sunglasses on, keeping his head low. As he follows you up to your little apartment, you actually realize that Harry is about to move in with you for the upcoming days, he is going to live in your place, you’ll share your home with him. How crazy does that sound?

Unlocking the door you walk into your small apartment. It’s just the perfect size for one person, a decent kitchen with a small dining table, a living room that also functions as your study, your desk filled with folders and flyers from previous works. Then you have a little bedroom and a bathroom opening from the living room. It’s cozy and homey, but definitely not the setting you would have ever imagined Harry in.

“So, the couch is a pull out, I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow, make yourself… home I guess,” you tell him walking into your bedroom to get him everything he needs. However, he is following you into the room, already snooping around in your private little space.

As you grab him a blanket and pillow, you find him inspecting your clutters on top of your dresser, your jewelry, perfumes and makeup stuff is just thrown out there, and he seemingly takes an interest in your rings.

“Never seen you wear any jewelry,” he huffs as you walk up to him.

“Don’t like them on me that much,” you admit. “Here,” you give them the bedding and usher him out of the bedroom before he gets way too adventurous and starts digging into your lingerie drawers.

When the pullout is all set up and Harry has settled in a little, you are faced with the fact once again, that Harry is in your home and about to spend the upcoming days here with you, since he can’t really roam around the streets.

You make sandwiches for the two of you and sit at the small dining table, eating in silence until you speak up.

“I can ask my brother to help find the guy who did it. There has to be a way to get you out of this.”

Harry glances at you, chewing on his food before putting the sandwich down, swallowing the bite.

“Not really if they don’t find evidence.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“We?” he smirks at you playfully, earning a blush from you again. You hate the effect he has on you, he is clearly a good-looking guy, you always thought that, even in high school. Thanks to his troubled name, girls easily fall for his bad guy behavior, they just never really saw that being a so called bad guy wasn’t just about the looks, with a slightly similar background you could imagine how hard it really was for him. Though he never really let it show. He is always this whitty, cocky bastard who is ready to flirt his way into your pants whenever the opportunity is given.

“If you keep up with the teasing you’ll find yourself on the street one morning,” you warn him and he just holds his hands up with a smug grin.

“You are the boss lady here,” she chuckles softly before returning to his sandwich.

For the rest of the evening you bury yourself into some other work stuff, you always have a few smaller gigs going on that are easy money, Harry in the meanwhile makes himself comfortable on the couch, watching your tiny TV in silence, letting you do your thing. It’s nearing midnight when you wrap it up and head to have a quick shower. Standing under the hot water you take a few minutes to collect your thoughts and just simply try to get used to the thought that you are in fact hiding a man who is wanted for murder. It’s going to be some pretty interesting days you have ahead of you, that is for sure.

Putting on your oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts you leave a clean towel on the counter for Harry in case he doesn’t have one before heading out.

“Towel is on the counter. Sorry, I don’t have shower gel for men, but the soap is unscented so feel free to use,” you tell him walking out, only to find him already waiting around the door, leaning against the wall. His eyes fall down the length of your uncovered leg, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“If you’re the kind who sleeps naked, feel free to get rid of the textile.”

“Are you a naked sleeper?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“I can be, if you want me to be,” he grins smugly and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Good night, Harry,” you sigh walking into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you, only allowing yourself to let out a shaky sigh when you are out of his sight. Leaning against the door you hear him shuffling around until the bathroom door closes and the water starts running. You try your best to ignore the thought of Harry currently in your shower naked as you climb to bed and pull the covers over your head. You need the coverage, hopefully it’ll help you with your wandering thoughts.

“Thought you’d deliver Styles by now,” Robert teases you when he meets you at the station the next day. You left Harry at your place, sincerely asking not to trash your home while you’re away and headed to the police station in hopes that your brother might be able to help him out.

“Uh, no. But actually, he is the reason why I’m here,” you tell him with a nervous chuckle.

“What? Did he hurt you or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Can we please talk in your office?” you ask and he nods, leading you up to his office.

Once the two of you are settled and secluded from the rest of the officers, you just decide to start right in the middle and not waste your time beating around the bush.

“Harry didn’t do it. He was framed.”

Robert gives you a surprised look as he leans back in his seat on the other side of his desk. He thinks about your words furrowing his eyebrows before scratching his neck.

“How… do you know that?”

“I just know. He is being framed by Hugo McKain, it was one of his men who killed the guy, not Harry.”

“I have a feeling that your source about this was none other than Harry himself.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does, because of course he would try to defend himself!”

“Harry is not a murderer, Robert,” you snap. “He always owns up to his mistakes and he would never do anything to hurt others. Yes, he is troubled and did a lot of illegal shit in his life, but never anything that could hurt others. He became a target because he didn’t want to join Hugo.”

Robert stares at you for a while, probably trying to figure out whether he should believe you or not. You knew he’d be skeptical, but you can only hope he trusts you enough to help you out in this one case.

“And what do you expect me to do?” he asks after a while.

“He knows the name of the guy. Axel something, can you get someone on his case? Look into the evidence more? Something might come up that could help Harry out of this mess.”

Robert’s jaw clenches as he stares back at you, contemplating his choices but something is telling you he is already in. You won him over.

“I’ll have Jake look into it, I think I know who this Axel guy is.”

“Thank you, Robert!” you cheer in excitement. Jumping from your seat you go around his desk and hug him from behind, kissing his cheek as he tries to escape your embrace. He hates it when you get all affectionate at his work, but you just had to. You head to the door to get out of his hair before he changes his mind, but he stops you before you could leave.

“Y/N, just please be careful with Styles, okay?”

“He is not as bad as people make him sound.”

“I just don’t want him to get you into trouble. There’s only so much I can do to save your ass.” “Don’t worry,” you smile at him softly. “I’ll be alright.”

The rest of the day goes by with catching some stupid guy who was wanted for trying to rob a gas station while drunk, it’s a mystery how he was able to run away, you saw the security footage, the guy was barely standing on his feet, but lucky for you, he is in the exact same state when you surprise him at a bar and bring him in.

It’s past seven when you finally get home. Keying yourself into the apartment you are met with a quite pleasant sight. Harry has pushed the pullout in to make some space in the cramped living room and as you step inside, you are met with the sight of him doing pushups in the middle of the room, no shirt on, just a pair of loose shorts, all his tattoos are on display, a thin layer of sweat covering his body, his curls are held back with a headband. When he hears you arrive, his head shoots up and smirks in your way before doing a few more and then he stops, standing up just as you shut the front door.

“Welcome home, Honey,” he winks in your way and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Turning my living room into your personal gym, huh?”

“I can’t just sit around all day, waiting for you to get home, can I?”

“You can always just fix up my apartment while I’m gone,” you joke chuckling. Setting your bag down on your bed you join him in the kitchen where he is sipping on some water. “Anyway, I have good news for you. My brother said he’ll have one of his guys look into the case. I’m sure he’ll check after this Axel dude you mentioned.”

“That’s great! I’ve also been asking around today, some of my friends said they will try to dig up some dirt that might help me out, but I don’t want any of them to get too deep and then have Hugo go after them too.”

“It’ll be fine,” you nod, convinced that things will turn out well. “Alright, I’ll throw something together for dinner, what—“

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I already ordered, should be here soon.”

“You ordered food?” you ask in surprise.

“Of course. I won’t just eat your fridge out, dinners are on me while I’m here,” he smiles genuinely and you’re stunned by the gesture.

Half an hour later the two of you are sitting on the living room floor, Chinese takeout boxes littering the place around you, having a full on feast because Harry didn’t go light on the order.

“So, tell me, what have you been doing since high school?” he prompts the question. “I feel like I know you but I also don’t. Don’t get me wrong, being handcuffed by you every other month is fucking hot, but I don’t know much about you.”

“There’s not much to know,” you shrug. “I’ve been doing this since I was seventeen, no grandiose career.”

“But did you have any other plans before?”

“Thought about joining the police, but I was never tame enough to follow their rules.”

“Ooh, a little rebel?” he teases you and you throw a handful of napkins in his way, making him laugh.

“You can joke about it, but I’ve had my fair share of trouble as well, you are not the only one who’s been through some rough years.”

“I know that,” he nods, eyes getting serious for a moment. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“You know about them?” you ask in surprise. You didn’t really share it with anyone, talking about the loss of them just made it harder to deal with it and you also didn’t want everyone’s petty.

“You just know about this kind of stuff when you grow up in foster care. Though you were lucky your brother was already of age.”

“I know. I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here if I had to go into foster care.” Putting down the box from your hands you look at Harry. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.”

“Not that it was any of your fault,” he smiles softly, but you can see the pain in his green eyes. Despite not knowing him well growing up, you always felt this weird urge to tell him how sorry you were for everything he had to deal with. He deserved a better childhood and teenage years and most importantly, respect from people. Everyone just labeled him as a lost case because of his background, but no one really tried to help him. Part of you feels guilty, because you could have helped through those years, but you were a little frightened from him as well, believing the rumors and talks about him, though now you know they were probably just stupid gossips.

Harry reaches into your box, stealing a dumpling and you snap on his hand, but he just pops it into his mouth grinning slyly.

“Hey! You have your own!” you tell him off.

“I know, but yours just tastes better.”

“You are such a pest,” you roll your eyes at him as you grab your box and start eating again.

“So, what does your boyfriend think about me being here?” he asks out of nowhere, but you see through his act. It’s his sneaky way of trying to get you to say if you’re single or not, probably already knowing the answer to that, but you choose to pull his leg a little.

“He is fine. Though you might have to plug your ears in a little when he comes over,” you tell him with a straight face and see his fall, a stunned expression on his handsome face.

“Wait, really? You have a boyfriend and told him about me being here?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

It’s hard not to start laughing, especially when the words process and he realizes that you are in fact taken. The flirty, teasing act is long gone, he presses his lips together nodding to himself as he continues to eat in silence.

“I’m just fucking with you, I don’t have a boyfriend,” you tell him at last, finally letting out a laugh. His eyes snap up at you and a smirk slowly tugs at his lips as he points a finger at you.

“You had me for a hot minute. Nice one.”

“Why were you so surprised when I said I have a boyfriend?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“Guess the thought was just a little weird, I’ve never seen you with a guy before.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve never been with any,” you point out, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Oh, I know. I never thought you are pretending to be a nun,” he snorts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasp, feeling like it was a subtle way to call you some sort of slut. Harry looks up at your upset expression and he immediately knows how his words were taken.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he defends himself.

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I meant that I always thought a girl as pretty as you must have plenty of guys after her.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at how bluntly he just called you pretty. It had a refreshing sound after all the shameless flirting he has been doing when it came to you, and your poor little heart immediately skipped a beat upon hearing his words.

“Well, I didn’t have,” you admit with a sad smile. You briefly dated a guy from another school in tenth grade, but after that, your life was just way too complicated to get involved in a relationship and you haven’t really been able to change that even years later. When you’re very keen on some intimacy you go to a nearby bar and just let whatever man to pick you up and have for the night, but that doesn’t happen too often either, because it seems useless most of the time, you can do the job yourself just fine too, you don’t need some random man to call you his babygirl when he doesn’t even know your name. Some never even bother to finish you, they pass out once they got what they wanted so you prefer being on your own.

“Fucking losers!” Harry huffs dramatically. “They have no idea what’s good.”

“You don’t need to say that just to make me feel better,” you roll your eyes at him, but you can feel yourself blushing.

“I’m not, I was always crushing on you a little in high school, if I’m being honest,” he admits truthfully, managing to surprise you once again.

“For real?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning his focus back to his food as he continues to talk. “Even thought about asking you out to prom one time. But I figured you might not even know who I am.”

“Come on, everyone knew who you were!”

“Are you telling me off for being humble?” he asks grinning. “Okay, let me rephrase it. I didn’t know if you wanted anything to do with me after hearing stuff about me, so I just dodged the idea.”

You chew on his words a little before looking up at him, eyes meeting his green irises, though you are usually not one to get in on the flirting, now you just feel like being a little blunt.

“Well, I always thought you were good-looking.”

“Were? Am I not good-looking anymore?” he teases with a dramatic gasp that makes you roll your eyes.

“Well, the smugness takes a bit away from it, if I’m being honest,” you tell him off making him laugh.

Once you both are well fed you clean the boxes up together, you wash the few extra plates you used while Harry dries them off and puts them away. Opening one of the cabinets he moves the door a bit, examining how it hangs a little low.

“I always forget to fix it up,” you sigh. There’s quite a few things that could use some work, but you just never get to start on them so they are always put aside.

You take your turns in the bathroom as usual and you sit at your desk a little, working on a few stuff before calling it a night. Harry is already lying in his temporary bed on the pullout, scrolling through his phone. The covers hide only half of his body, his naked, tattooed chest is on display, one of his arms is tucked under his head, the muscles on his arm flexing just right. He surely is a sight, you can’t deny that.

“Seeing something you like?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been caught staring. Clearing your throat you stack up the papers on your desk and head into your bedroom.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he calls after you before you click the door closed.

The next day you go with your usual routine, Robert checks in with you letting you know he already has someone on Harry’s case, so there’s not much you can do for now, only hope that something will surface that can help him out of this mess. Throughout the day you often catch yourself thinking about what Harry could be doing at home all day and you pray to all higher powers he is not currently snooping through your lingerie.

It’s a frustrating day, you couldn’t find the guy you’ve been after but you were really hoping to finally get the money for him. He is big money, but he makes you work for it certainly. When you arrive home Harry is nowhere to be seen, but then you hear the shower running so you figure he must have just been working out and is now taking a shower. Two pizza boxes are set on the dining table and you sigh in relief that you don’t have to think about cooking with him around. Going to the kitchen you are about to grab two plates when you notice that the cupboard door that’s been hanging low a little is now fixed. It’s as new as it never was since you’ve been living here and it gets you wondering if anything else has been taken care of. Going through the kitchen you start to realize that all the little things that’s been waiting to be fixed are now working perfectly: the handle on one of the drawers, the loose tap, the shelf that’s been crooked for a while, it’s all perfect now.

The bathroom door opens and Harry walks out wearing a pair of black sweatpants, his hair is wet and he has a towel hanging from around his neck.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you arrive,” he breathes out throwing the towel to the back of one of the chairs around the dining table.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago. Hey, did you fix my kitchen?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“Uh, yeah. Took a look at the stuff that seemed off. Also fixed the shoe rack near the door and the hangers in the bathroom.”

“Oh wow. You really shouldn’t have.”

“Didn’t you tell me to fix the place up while being here?” he teases you with a smirk as he leans against the table.

“That was just a joke.”

“I know,” he chuckles softly. “But I really didn’t have much to do today so I thought I might make myself useful.”

“That’s… actually very nice of you. Thank you.”

“No worries.”

“So how was your day?” Harry asks as the two of you are chewing on the pizza, sitting at the dining table.

“Why are you making small talk like we’re a married couple?” you scrunch your nose, taking another bite from your slice.

“What, I can’t be nice?”

“You can, it’s just you are usually not,” you point out.

“Or you are just never around when I decide to be nice,” he grins. “You usually just burst into my place, handcuff me and then bring me in. That doesn’t give much time to be nice.”

“I wouldn’t cuff you if you didn’t try to run away the first time I wanted to bring you in,” you retort shrugging.

“Okay, first of all, I was not expecting you to just kick my door in and have a fucking knife pointed at my throat, of course I tried to escape! And second, I quite enjoy being handcuffed by you, so I guess it’s not that bad.”

That smug smirk is back on his lips again and you wish you could just wipe it off sometimes. He is so full of himself!

“You are always coming with this cuffing thing. Get a hold of your kinks, Styles.”

“You can’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on. I bet you’d like that, if you haven’t already been cuffed in the bedroom,” he snorts, taking a big bite, the sauce dripping a bit from the corner of his mouth that he wipes with the back of his hand.

“My kinks are none of your concerns,” you sternly reply, but it just makes his grin wider.

“Oh, so you do have kinks! Tell me more about them!”

“Well what are yours?” you retort, hoping it would shut him up, but it has the opposite effect on him. Leaning back he swallows the food in his mouth before starting the list.

“Well I do love getting handcuffed, I’m into spanking, both ways. I have a weird thing for—“

“Alright! I’ve heard enough!” you cut him off. “Stop, just… stop,” you breathe out.

“What?” Harry chuckles, clearly enjoying the situation more than you’d want him to. “Don’t tell me you’re too prude to talk about sex.”

“I’m not,” you answer right away.

“Okay, then tell me about your kinks!” he teases you some more. Snapping your eyes at him you can tell how much he is enjoying making you so uncomfortable, but you also know that he thinks he’ll just make you blush and you won’t tell him a thing. So you decide to give him his own medicine.

“I do in fact like to be handcuffed, I love a good spanking, when my ass cheeks turn red from the slaps, that makes me cum very hard. I love a good old choking and I particularly enjoy giving blowjobs because I don’t have a gagging reflex, makes men go fucking nuts when I have them down my throat to the last inch, I get off their reaction easily.”

Harry’s lips part as he stares at you with a stunned expression, he definitely did not expect that answer, or any answer at all. That face alone makes up for the slight anxiety that took over you talking about what you really enjoy in the bedroom. Your eyes wander down and a triumphant smirk tugs on your lips.

“Don’t be such a horny teenager, I can see your dick getting hard,” you tell him before flipping the pizza box closed and walking into the kitchen you put the remaining of it into the fridge.

“You are such a tease, Y/N,” he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “But it might backfire, because now I’m gonna get off thinking about spanking you,” he grins at you, but you just shrug, heading to the bathroom.

“Do whatever you want, fantasizing is free,” you tell him before locking yourself in the bathroom.

You’d be lying if you said you don’t think about him in the shower. As your hands move down your body, your fingers wander between your legs, gently playing with your clit while thinking about Harry spanking you. Knowing that he is kind of into the same things as you makes your fantasies even more vivid, but you don’t let yourself get off. You wouldn’t want him to hear you moan under the shower, he would tease you about it forever.

When you’re all done you step out of the bathroom only to get startled by Harry who is standing right at the door, wearing only his boxer briefs.

“Shit!” you gasp, snapping your hand to your chest.

“You took awfully long in there, Y/N,” he smirks at you, but you just roll your eyes at him. “If you ever need help washing you back, don’t be shy to ask me to join.”

“Keep dreaming,” you mumble under your breath as you walk past him and make your way into your bedroom.

“I already do that!” he calls after you before you shut the door closed.

Throwing yourself to your bed you take a deep breath closing your eyes. If he keeps up this act, you have no idea how you’re gonna survive having him around any longer.

Two days go by in the same manner. You spend most of the day out doing your usual stuff, you actually manage to catch another guy who was a small reward, but it’s more than nothing. Harry usually has dinner ready and waiting for you by the time you get back home. During these two days he has fixed up basically everything that wasn’t working in your apartment, freeing you from doing it yourself for probably twice as long as he did.

You sit and eat together, Harry usually tries to get under your skin with some more flirting that you return with a cold shoulder, but then, when you’re lying in the comfort of your bed or standing under the hot water in the shower, you always find your thoughts wandering off to the man on the other side of the door.

Ashamed to admit, but you’ve gotten yourself off once thinking about him. You woke up in the middle of the night from a quite hot dream that, of course, featured a shirtless Harry and you just couldn’t stop yourself from bringing you some relief. For a little while your hands weren’t yours, you imagined that Harry’s big, calloused and ring clad fingers were moving against your body and you needed every drop of self-control not to moan his name out as you came. You blame it on him being so comfortable shirtless around your place, he has been really making himself feel home. Not that you’re complaining, he is a sight for the eyes certainly, but it’s also giving you a hard time.

Robert soon asks you to swing by the station to discuss some details about Harry’s case. You can tell he couldn’t dig up anything helpful, he would have already mentioned it through the phone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anything that can be useful in further investigation.

“So, I’ve caught wind of Axel Morris being involved in the death of the victim, but we haven’t been able to recover any evidence that would point towards him, unfortunately,” Robert explains as the two of you sit in his office. “Didn’t want to bring him in for questioning either because then Hugo would find out we are after him.”

“So what can be done now?”

“I’m… really not sure, Y/N. If Axel doesn’t magically confesses the murder on tape, I’m not sure I can do anything to help Styles.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you’re trying hard to think of what to do. This can’t end like this, there has to be a way out for Harry…

“Look. I know you’re trying to cook up something to help Styles, but I’m not sure I can give you much time.”

“What do you mean?” you ask with a puzzled look.

“I mean that…” He glances at the door and then leans closer, speaking more quietly. “If I had a guess where he could be found, I would say he is at your place as we are speaking. I can’t let a guy walk free who is wanted for murder, Y/N. I eventually have to bring him back.”

“Alright, alright. Just give me a few more days. I’ll figure it out,” you plead, running your hand through your hair. Robert sighs, shaking his head.

“You have three days. That marks ten days since the warrant has been out. If you don’t bring me evidence by then, I’m sending the guys to your place to get him.”

“Three days, alright. I’ll… figure it out. Thanks, Robert,” you nod, leaving his office in a rush.

You have three days to find evidence against Axel and free Harry, but how do you even start? You’re good at what you do, but this is kind of out of your field and you’re not sure you can deal with it.

Walking around town you try to come up with an idea, but end up doing what you always do when you’re stuck on a case. Thanks to your work you’ve built up quite a web of connections, you always know someone who knows someone who is exactly the person you need. So sitting at a diner, munching on a late lunch you start calling your connections to see if you can dig up anything that could help.

A few hours later the situation becomes brighter and you finally have a somewhat useful plan so you head home to let Harry in on what you’ve come up with.

He is seemingly surprised when you arrive home earlier than the usual, he is sitting at the dining table, a bowl of instant noodles in front of him as he is watching some video on his phone. Like usually, he is only wearing a pair of sweatpants, his tattooed abdomen on full display.

“Oh, hi! Something happened?” he asks, concern showing in his eyes as he watches you kick your shoes off and storm into your bedroom, going straight to your wardrobe to dig up one particular outfit. “Y/N?” you hear him call out for you, his voice coming from your door.

“Yes! I knew I still had it!” you cheer in triumph as you hold up the latex set that clearly leaves very little to the imagination. When Harry sees it, his eyes go wide and his imagination probably gets wild for a moment, because he clears his throat as he looks at you puzzled.

“What do you need that for?”

“It’s part of my plan that will get us evidence against Axel Morris.”

“I’m not really following, so please elaborate?”

“I talked to Robert, he said we need to get him to confess. Now, I made a few phone calls and found out that our friend, Axel is a regular at this strip club called Siren. I’ll pretend to be a dancer and wrap him around my fingers and get him to confess while recording. You said it yourself, he is a real dumbass, I’m sure I can make it work.”

Harry stares at you frozen for a long moment before he lets out a heartfelt chuckle and now you’re the one confused about what’s really going on.

“S’cute you think I’m letting you close to that man. Funny, that was a good joke. Alright, what do you want for dinner?” he asks, walking back to the dinner table, but you chase after him.

“It’s not a joke, Harry. Pretty much our only chance to get you out of this mess!”

“You are not going anywhere near that guy and that’s not up for debate.”

“Not that you can tell me what to do!” you scoff at him.

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shakes his head sitting back to the table, stirring his pasta around with the spoon.

“I certainly know, and this is pretty much your only chance to save your ass, Harry.”

“Not if it means you go near Axel, nah,” he shakes his head calmly, as if it wasn’t even an argument and he had the right to grant you permission.

“Well, I’m doing it and you can’t do anything about that. I’m going in tomorrow. I know one of the dancers, she is helping me set it all up,” you shrug, your attitude meeting his careless one, but he doesn’t like your answer, not even a bit.

“Y/N, you are not going there!” he snaps, standing up, the chair falling back from the sudden movement. “That psycho killed a man or did you forget about that?!”

“Okay, so what’s your plan to save your ass? Because there’s literally no other choice,” you retort giving him a frown as you march back to your room and Harry follows you.

“But it won’t be you dressing up as a stripper, seducing a fucking murderer to get him to confess!”

“So then what is it going to be?!” you snap at him facing him again. “Because Robert gave me three days to sort things out before he comes here and takes you in himself!”

“Then I’ll go to jail! No big deal!” he throws his hands into the air like it was just a minor inconvenience and not a case of murder that could put him behind bars forever.

“Are you fucking insane?” you laugh in disbelief. “You’re willing to lose the rest of your life for what? Nothing at all?!”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N. You are not getting yourself into this mess and it’s not up for debate.”

“You hold no control over me, Harry!” you scream at him at this point, fed up with his bullshit.

You find yourself pinned against the wall in a blink of the eye, Harry is pressed up against you, hands grabbing onto your forearms as he keeps you in place firmly, one of his thighs coming between your legs as his face is dangerously close to yours now. He knocks the air out of you for a moment and you stare back at him with parted lips for just a split second before your instincts kick in.

You easily knee him in the crotch, giving you just enough opportunity to grab one of his wrists and twist it behind his back, forcing him to get on the ground, growling in pain.

“Fuck! Y/N!” he groans, snapping his other hand against the hardwood floor. You give him another squeeze as a warning before letting him go and he falls to the ground for a moment before he pushes himself up to sit on his heels.

“You still think I can’t protect myself against a man?” you sneer at him walking over to the bed to grab the outfit that was tossed to the side in the hustle.

“Shit, I think you broke my dick!” he breathes out hunching over and you just smile to yourself as you hand the outfit up to the side of your wardrobe.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, you’re fine.”

“Don’t think so, might need a get-well kiss on it though,” he smirks through his painful expression and you roll your eyes at him. How is he still at it when you just kneeled him in his crotch? “Okay, your message came through very clear though, but I’m still not a fan of your plan,” he sighs finally standing up from the floor.

“It’s gonna be easy, I’ll get him a little drunk, offer him a private dance, make a move and get him to talk. If he really is that dumb like you said, I can easily get him to open up, just gotta make sure he is focusing on something else,” you explain gesturing towards the outfit on the hanger.

“You can’t wear that, Y/N.”

“This is what strippers wear, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“My problem is that it’s like… nonexistent. There’s no textile at all!” he rages, still eyeing the red latex set.

“Are you… jealous?” you ask, starting to get a feel of what’s really going on. Harry’s head snaps in your way and the look in his eyes answers your question even when he tries to hide his real reasons.

“Jealous of you becoming a stripper? I bet I can make more than you if I became one,” he scoffs smugly.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking jealous!” you laugh, enjoying this one in a million moment. “What’s next, you have feelings for me? Are you gonna confess your undying love?” you tease him.

“Okay, you had your laughs, that was enough. Excuse me if I’m looking out for you and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“Don’t get all smitten with me now. I’ve been doing just fine without you so far.”

“Yeah, how many people did you bring in for murder?” Harry questions and that leaves you without an answer. Not that you don’t know it, but because the number is exactly zero. You’ve been doing your job for quite a while and there’s been all kind of cases under your hands, but not murders. Though you are completely capable of defending yourself, you’re not sure you want to deal with monsters who took a human’s life. The only reason you took Harry’s case was because you had an inkling feeling from the very start that he did not do it.

“Just as I thought,” Harry scoffs. “Listen, if you really want to do this then I’m going with you. No way I’m gonna just sit around here and wait to see if you make it back home.”

“How do you plan on leaving the house? Someone might recognize you and then it’s game over.”

“I’ll just… disguise myself,” he shrugs. “Can’t be that hard.”

You never thought the day would come when you see Harry Styles wearing a fake mustache and a ridiculous wig, secured with a beanie to his head. The moment the two of you finish his disguise, you can’t hold your laughter back. He looks so damn ridiculous, you can barely breathe through your laughter as he checks himself out in the mirror.

“I look like a fucking pedophile,” he shakes his head chuckling as he pushes some fake hair out of his forehead. “Where the fuck did you find this wig?” he snaps at you in disbelief.

“Does it matter? You look so fucking bad!” you laugh hysterically and Harry just stands there, waiting for you to finally stop, but it seems like he is not bothered by your reaction. He probably finds it equally funny too.

It’s currently seven pm, you have to head to Siren soon to start your fake shift as a stripper and you haven’t been able to talk Harry down from following you, so there you are, getting ready to fool everyone around you. Harry with his awful disguise and you with your stripper outfit.

When you finally catch your breath you leave Harry in the living room to get ready as well. Following a heavy makeup with dark, smokey eyes, you also put on a wig, a short, red bob that’s part of the outfit. Then you squeeze yourself into the latex, the tiny top barely covering you, the skirt is not even a skirt, rather than just a belt. As an extra to the fit, you’ve put on a red corset, though it’s more so you can hide the voice recorder since the original outfit doesn’t give too many places to do that. You pair it all with fishnet tights and a pair of black, thigh-high boots. As you check yourself out in the mirror you don’t even recognize yourself. Y/N is officially gone, the girl in the boots is… Crystabel.

Opening the door you step out of your bedroom, Harry is standing in the middle of the living room, busy with his phone so at first he doesn’t even see you walk out.

“Ready to leave?” he asks, eyes still on the screen of his phone.

“I… guess?” you breathe out, feeling extremely self-conscious in this revealing set.

When Harry finally looks up his mouth drops open. He is not even trying to hide his hunger as his eyes rake down the length of your body. He takes his time to take in every inch of your exposed skin before his gaze settles on your eyes behind your long fake lashes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out and it gives you quite the confidence boost.

“You like it?” you ask, striking a pose as you push your hips to the side and place your hands on your waist.

“I-I’m… I’m fucking speechless,” he chuckles as you walk closer and grabbing the strings of his hoodie, you tug on the playfully while he is still shamelessly checking you out. “I don’t know how I could live this long without seeing you like this.”

“You are such a flirt,” you roll your eyes, but just as you are about to step away from him he grabs you by your waist and pulls you against him firmly. Your hands move to his broad shoulders right away, trying to keep your balance in his hold.

“I might be a flirt, but you are the hottest woman I’ve seen and I admit I will be fucking jealous of every man that’s gonna lay their eyes on you tonight.” His voice is low, full of lust and if it wasn’t for his funny disguise, you would have melted right into his arms in a heartbeat.

“I can’t take you seriously with this mustache on,” you chuckle softly, running your fingers over the fake facial hair, the pad of your fingers slightly touching his soft lips underneath.

“Just wait until we get back home and I get rid of it,” he smirks and winks at you, making you chuckle, but you can also feel yourself blushing at his words.

You put on a trench coat to cover the racy outfit as the two of you make your way to the club. Harry is driving, but you took your car in case someone might recognize him near the club. Arriving Harry parks at a darker corner in the parking lot and he pulls out a little box from his backpack.

“Alright, let’s wire you up, Love,” he smirks as you undo the coat and let him help you get the devices situated on you.

The voice recorder gets pushed into your stomach, hiding behind your corset. It’s thick enough that it doesn’t give away that anything is hidden under it, it’s just a little uncomfortable for you, but you are sucking it up.

“Here, put this into your ears,” Harry hands you an earpiece that you place into your right ear, hiding it with your wig. “It’s not the best quality, but you’ll be able to hear me and I’ll hear everything around you. We need a safe word if anything happens so I know I have to go inside.”

“This is starting to look like a spy movie or something,” you mumble under your breath as you start buttoning your coat again.

“Don’t turn it into a joke, Y/N. Axel might be a stupid jerk, but don’t forget he killed that man. He doesn’t care if you’re a woman or not, or if you’re a real stripper or not.”

“Alright, alright,” you sigh nodding. “How about… cherry?”

“Okay. Use it if you are in trouble or someone is hurting you or anything.” You nod, fidgeting with the end of the coat, but Harry grabs your hand and makes you look at him. “I mean it, Y/N. I don’t want you to play the hero.”

“I won’t, calm down. I gotta go now. I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before getting out of the car and heading to the backdoor. Glancing back one last time you see Harry standing at the hood of the car, watching you intently as you disappear from his sight.

Sienna, who is helping you tonight is already waiting for you at the backdoor. You met her a few years ago when you caught her abusive ex and took him in. She said she owed you one for freeing her from that asshole and now you are finally here to collect that favor.

“Damn, you look good!” she grins, pulling you into a short hug.

“You think it’s gonna be alright?” you ask, pulling the coat open to show her the whole outfit.

“Fucking fantastic. No men will be able to focus on anything than your boobs,” she snorts, pulling you inside.

The plan is easy. You won’t be out all night, Sienna will be your eyes and when she spots Axel arrive, that’s when you come into the picture. Sienna will escort him to a secluded area and tell him he has a free lap dance which will be, of course, performed by you. Some flirting, some seducing and hopefully Axel will be dumb enough to let a some sort of confession slip.

Sienna takes you to the changing room and you stay in the corner, trying not to be in the way as you watch the girls get ready. There are ten girls in total, five of them are dancing tonight, the other five are servers, but they still dress like dancers. They all wear equally revealing outfits, just like you and as you watch them move around so confidently, you start to get more and more nervous. What if Axel figures out you’re not a real dancer right away? Or if he notices the recorder pushed into your stomach? This plan is definitely not the safest you’ve ever come up with, and you are starting to doubt yourself now that you are so deep in it.

“Y/N?” you hear Harry’s faint voice in your ear. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out and hearing his voice calms your nerves a little.

“Everything alright?” First you nod, but then you realize he can’t see you.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you nervous?”

“Very,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. Luckily, Harry doesn’t bring his usual cockiness out, feeling how serious the situation is.

“You can still come out and we can just go home. You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to do this,” you firmly answer. “Just… talk to me a little. Please.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you about when I wanted to ask you out to prom,” you hear him start and you can’t push a smile down as you sit and wait, listening to his soothing voice. “You were wearing this pretty white sweater that day and tight jeans, you looked so fucking good, Y/N. I saw you walking to your locker and you smiled at some random guy and I was instantly jealous.”

“Really?” you ask quietly.

“O, yeah,” he chuckles. “I told you, I had a crush on you. So I thought about asking you out, wanted to just walk up to you and casually ask if you wanted to go with me. But then I just watched you and realized that you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me, so I just watched you get your books out of your locker and then you walked right past me, looked me in the eyes and I straight up felt my knees turn into jelly. Good thing I was leaning against the wall. You walked away and I never asked you out. Still regret that,” he admits and your heart flutters at his words.

As weird as it sounds, you remember that day. Especially because when your eyes met Harry’s you felt kind of the same. You felt intimidated and wondered why he was watching you so intently, but you would have never guessed he wanted to ask you out.

You see Sienna walking in, her eyes find you and you immediately know it’s show time.

“Harry?” you breathe out at last.

“Yeah?”

“I would have said yes,” you tell him before you follow Sienna out and the blasting music pushes down Harry’s voice in your earpiece.

The bright lights of the back are switched to the dim, red lighting in the main bar area, a dancer is already on the stage and the place seems packed for the night as all men are hungrily watching the girl on the stage, throwing dollar bills at her shamelessly.

Sienna pulls you to the bar and leans closer to your ear so you can hear what she is saying.

“He is in one of the private rooms, told him the dance is on the house to thank him for being a regular. I asked one of the guards to stand nearby.”

“Thank you, S,” you nod at her as she squeezes your hands.

“Good luck, girl,” she smiles a little bitterly before she shows you the way to the room where Axel is currently waiting for his private dance.

As you stop at the door you take a deep breath, staring at the doorknob for a moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever is about to happen in there.

“I’m going in,” you say, partially to yourself, but mostly to Harry so he knows what’s happening though you don’t hear an answer before you open the door and step inside.

The room is mostly what you were expecting, a small stage with a rod in the middle, across that a long, plush, deep burgundy couch. The walls are black, just the red led lights illuminating the place.

And there he is. Axel Morris is sitting in the middle of the couch, manspreading so widely like the asshole that he is, arms leisurely draped across the back of the couch as his hungry eyes immediately snap to your body.

Axel is big. He is a large man and you realize that the moment you see him. Though he is sitting you can easily tell that he’s tall and he is definitely bulky. Could end you in a blink of an eye and knowing that he is capable of murder is just an eerie thought that doesn’t leave you alone. But you suck it up and get into character, only thinking about one thing: help Harry out of this mess.

Music with low bass starts playing through the speakers as you make your way over to Axel who grins at you disgustingly, making it hard for you to keep the façade.

“Hey big boy, heard you’ve earned a dance for yourself,” you coo at him stopping at the edge of the stage as you keep eye-contact with him. You lean against the edge and spread your legs just enough to tease his imagination about what’s about to come.

“Hell yes, I did! Hope you’re a good dancer, babygirl. Haven’t seen you around here.”

“I’m new. But I’m really good, that’s why they sent me,” you smirk at him sweetly as you walk closer until you’re standing in front of him. He reaches out and grabbing your hips he pulls you to straddle his lap and it catches you by surprise but you don’t fall out of character.

“Then show me what you can do. What’s your name?” He licks his lips as you start moving, doing your best from movies you’ve seen with strippers in them.

“Crystabel, but you can call me yours,” you hum, grinding and bouncing yourself, completely unleashing your inner hoe. “Tell me, big boy. Are you as dangerous as you seem?”

“Oh baby, you have no idea,” he grins proudly.

“Really?” you coo, pushing yourself up against him. His dirty hands find your ass and you want to push them away so badly, but you let him have his way with you for the sake of the plan. “What’s the worst you’ve done?”

“Why does a pretty girl like you want to know about that, huh?” he cocks his head to the side, eyeing you with suspicion so you know you have to be careful.

“Because I have a thing for those stuff. I love pain and blood, it gets me off always,” you smirk at him teasingly, grinding yourself against him to divert his attention a little from the words spoken.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yeah, I love that kind of stuff,” you moan, running your hands down your chest, his eyes hungrily following your every move and you know he is zoned out. It’s going perfectly.

“Well, I’m the perfect man for you then, babygirl. I’ve done all the things you can imagine.”

“Really? You are turning me on, big boy,” you murmur lowly, turning around for a bit so he can get a good glimpse of your backside as well. “Have you… taken anyone’s life before?” you bluntly ask, hoping you aren’t moving too fast and he won’t snap at you.

“Not sure I should be talking about that with you, pretty girl,” he smirks smugly. You turn back to face him, pushing your crotch against him as you try not to gag feeling his erection under you.

“I’m good with secrets, Honey. My lips are sealed,” you grin at him, stroking his oily face and try your best not to wipe your fingers into the cushion of the couch. Axel smirks at you, clearly enjoying the show you are putting on, his fingers are digging into your thighs as his eyes are practically glued to your chest.

“I’m a killer, babygirl.”

“Yeah?” you gasp, faking your excitement. “What did you do, big boy? Tell me, make me wet,” you purr biting into your bottom lip, pushing your chest out some more to distract him from his consciousness that might keep him from answering.

“Killed a guy recently,” he smugly admits and your adrenaline is high in the sky. You are so close to what you need!

“Oh my, sounds like a dirty job.”

“It was.”

“Saw it on the news a guy got killed not long ago, did you do that?” you smirk at him, his hand slapping your ass and you fight yourself not to punch him in the face.

“That Richards guy? Yeah,” he nods and you almost start screaming in your triumph. This dumbass really did just confess to you, because you had your ass and tits out for him!

“Cool. What’s your name, big guy? Wanna know who I’ll think of when I touch myself later,” you pant into his ear, you need him to say his name otherwise the confession might go to shit.

“I’m Axel, babygirl,” he grins, leaning dangerously close to you, he clearly wants to push his tongue down your throat but you push yourself away and up from his lap.

“Our time is up, big boy. See you later!” you sing and walk out of the room while he is still kind of zoned out.

The moment you are out, you start running. You can’t have him realize what just happened and stop you. Pushing your way back to the dressing room you grab all your stuff and spring out of the building. Harry is standing at the entrance, his ridiculous disguise is gone as he spots you with wide eyes. He probably heard everything and wanted to be there for you when you get out and as soon as you reach him he grabs your hand and the two of you run to the car. Right when you get into the car, you spot Axel running out from the front entrance and he definitely realized what just happened.

“Hey! Get back here you slut!” he shouts as Harry starts the car and you melt into the seat, scared of what’s about to happen because you see Axel reach to his back and the next thing you know is that he has a gun in his hand.

“Harry! Go!” you scream when you see him aim at the car and right at that moment, the wheels screech as Harry pushes the gas pedal to the fullest and the car yanks forward.

Your heart drops to the floor when a bullet shoots into the side of the car as Axel tries to stop the two of you. Harry takes a sharp turn and leaves the car park with full speed. You see Axel from the mirror, he is raging and keeps shooting after you, but he has no aim or whatsoever. You reach the end of the street and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“Oh shit, fuck,” you mumble, chest heaving as you grab onto the armrest for some kind of leverage, your adrenaline is still pumping through your veins from the action movie-like scene that just happened.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Harry asks, eyes dancing between the road ahead of him and you as he tries to figure out if anything happened to you.

“I-I’m fine, he was just… fucking nasty to deal with you,” you groan at the thought of his hands on you. You’ll need the hottest shower after this, that’s for sure. “Go to the station, we gotta bring the tape in now,” you tell him as you reach into your corset. Pulling the recorder out you huff in relief, it’s been pressed into you for way too long. The tape is still rolling so you end it and then rewind it, checking if everything you need is on it. Luckily, it caught the whole thing perfectly, that means Harry is not going to jail. Well, not this time at least.

He is speeding down the streets as you get rid of the wig and put on your coat, you don’t want to walk into the police station dressed like a hooker and have the word spread that Robert’s sister has been making money some other way lately.

Arriving to the station you hold the recorder so tightly as if your life depends on it while Harry reaches for your other hand and firmly holds it in his warm palm. You walk inside and immediately spot Jeremy at the front desk. Letting go of Harry’s hand you run up to him.

“Jer, I got evidence for the Richards case! I got a confession on tape,” you beam at him holding the recorder up. He gives you a stunned look as he takes the recorder.

“Confession? How do you—“ He is cut off when you hear Harry’s voice from behind you.

“Hey! What the fuck!” he snaps and as you turn around you see that two officers are already on him, trying to handcuff him. Jeremy quickly forgets about the recorder as he joins in on strangling Harry. but you grab his arm and try to pull back.

“No! He didn’t do it! Listen to the tape!” you cry out, desperate to end this mess, but it feels like no one is listening to you.

“Harry Styles, you are under arrest for the murder of Dave Richards. You have the right…” One of the officers starts saying the usual speech as they drag Harry away while you are begging to Jeremy to listen to you.

“Jeremy! He didn’t fucking do it!” you scream, tears rolling down your face.

“What do you mean?” he asks giving you a puzzled look. It was Axel Morris! One of Hugo McKain’s men! They are trying to frame Harry!” you explain, while Harry is being taken away. “Harry, no!” you shout after them, but the officers don’t stop.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll be fine!” he calls after you before he disappears from your vision.

“Jeremy, please just listen to the fucking tape! I got his confession!”

“I’ll look into it, but I’m afraid Harry is spending the night here,” he sighs, looking down at the recorder before he walks away.

“Fuck, no!” you choke out.

When you finally stop crying you rush out of the building and call your brother, not even caring that it’s past midnight. He better answer your call or you are showing up at his house and start banging on his door until he opens it.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he growls into the phone.

“Robert, they fucking took Harry in! I had the confession on tape, but they just wouldn’t listen, they arrested him!”

“Hey, slow down, what are you talking about?”

Taking a deep breath you tell him the whole story. The club, the dance, the confession and then how you came straight to the station but they arrested Harry without listening to you.

“Alright, you can’t do much now, Y/N. He is still a suspect but I’ll call Jeremy to look into the tape. If it’s found relevant Harry will be out in the morning okay?”

“Please come in early in the morning and make sure he is let out, please!” you cry out, feeling so helpless after everything that just happened.

“I will. Meet me at the station at six, okay? It’ll be alright. Go home, have some sleep and then we’ll make everything right in the morning.”

You do as Robert asked, go home, have a shower, wash the night off of your skin and lie in bed however you are not able to sleep, not even for a minute. You keep thinking about Harry and what might be happening to him now. They better get their shit together and let him out in the morning or you are losing your mind. You didn’t go through all this just to have him put behind bars anyway.

It’s not even six when you are already at the station, anxiously waiting for Robert to show up. You keep glancing up at the building, thinking about how Harry is somewhere in there and you can only hope he’ll be out with you shortly.

When Robert arrives he goes straight up to check out the situation with the tape and Harry. Waiting for him down in the hall is nerve-wrecking, you feel like time has stopped. When he finally appears again you jump to your feet running up to him with high hopes.

“The tape has been examined, it was classified as evidence. Jeremy has already put out an arrest warrant on Axel. Harry is no longer a suspect. He’ll be down once the paperwork is done.”

“Oh thank God!” you breathe out and throw yourself at him, hugging him tighter than ever.

“Look, but there is something I need to talk to you about,” he says with a serious look.

“Okay, what is it?”

“We might be able to get this Axel guy, but I’m pretty sure Hugo is already after the two of you. We have a whole team for him, working on catching him finally, but it might be smart if you just left town for a little.”

“Oh. Yeah, sounds logical,” you nod.

“Let me know if you need help with that. I can arrange something for you.”

“We’ll see. I have to talk to Harry first.”

“Harry, huh?” Robert smirks down at you knowingly and you feel yourself blushing. A lot has changed lately around you and Harry and you guess it’s quite evident for everyone else as well. “Just so you know, he asked about you during the night. Wanted to know if you are alright.”

“Yeah?” you breathe out with a small smile.

“Yes. Might have been wrong about him a little. Tell him I said hello, I need to get to work now,” he nods with a fond smile.

“Thank you, Robert!” you call after him as he waves in your way before disappearing in the elevator.

Waiting around in the hall you keep looking towards the hallway, hoping to see him appear finally, but the minutes are just dragging by way too slowly.

You’re impatiently sitting on one of the benches by the wall when you finally see him walking down the hallway, leisurely running his hand through his hair, a tired smile sitting on his lips when he sees you leap from your seat and launch at him, throwing yourself into his arms.

“Hey, hey! It’s all good, Love. Told you not to worry about me,” he chuckles, but holds you tight anyway, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you off the ground, taking a few steps forward.

“Of course I fucking worry about you, idiot!” you mumble into his neck before leaning back you look at his pretty face.

“Yeah? Does this mean I had the right to worry about you last night?”

“You were?”

“Fuck yes,” he laughs. “You have no idea what it was like to sit outside and listen to everything that fucker told you. Wanted to punch him in the face so badly.”

“So heroic,” you grin at him, your face already inching closer to his, arms still wrapped around his neck.

“Only for my favorite stripper,” he winks at you, making you gasp.

“If you dare to bring it up again and call me a stripper, I swear to God I—“

You don’t get to finish your threat, because his hand snakes to the back of your neck and he pulls you into a hard kiss, his lips smashing against yours. Melting into the kiss you open your mouth for him without hesitation, his tongue meeting yours as he kisses you with so much vigor and passion, he makes you bend your back, leaning back as he holds you firmly in his strong arms. And suddenly, you feel like you’re seventeen again, making out with your high school crush in the school hallway, luckily, you are kissing the same person you wanted then.

“I’m fucking starving, babe,” he breathes out once you finally pull away from each other. “For you as well, but can we get some real food?” he asks as he laces his fingers together with yours, heading out of the station.

“Sure,” you chuckle. “Hey, there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Love, told you, you can handcuff me to the bedframe, I’m into that stuff.”

“Shut up!” you laugh smacking his chest as the two of you walk out to your car. “It’s not about that,” you murmur with a soft blush. “Robert said we should leave for a while, Hugo might be after us after what happened last night.”

“Yeah, thought about that myself too,” he nods as he gets behind the wheel without even asking if you want him to drive or not.

“So what should we do?” you question, sitting in the comfort of your car. Harry reaches for your hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly before he smirks at you.

“Have you been to Ireland, Love?”

“No,” you breathe out, a little stunned by the question.

“I have a friend over there, I’m sure he would love to have us there for a while. What do you say?”

“Are you for real? You want to go to Ireland with me?”

“Yeah, would be fun, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” you smile in awe. Even after that kiss you had doubts he would want to run away with you for the time being. But he is definitely planning to have you around longer. “Yeah, Ireland sounds fun.”

“Great. Then let’s head home to pack,” he smirks, starting the car. “Oh, Love?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to bring your handcuffs,” he grins and you just laugh at his smugness before leaning closer to kiss him quickly before the two of you finally drive away from the station.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

So Wrong

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

Word Count: 8000

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

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

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

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

Hope you enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod and smile, and accept the offering. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And the boy’s other kin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not to me.”

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

“I’ll be seeing you, Sheriff.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wilford does indeed ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t hav’ta do that-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods and gets up.

“Wine?” you ask, surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Not right away, but yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods and follows. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coffee?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re beautiful, y’know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The boys start to whine over each other-

“Momma. Robert keeps knocking over my building.”

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

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

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

“Jane must be expecting you home by now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shh, shh, sshh. I got you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kiss me?” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” Robert quietly says.

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

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

“We are. Go home, Lee.”

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

...

[yyh4ever]

山形大学の広報誌 みどり樹 第67号【2016年春号】

Source: Yamagata University, Midorigi No.67, Spring 2016

This article/interview was published in the Yamagata University Quarterly Magazine "Midorigi", in the Spring 2016 issue. Yamagata is Togashi's hometown, where he also attended the local University.

Togashi-sensei smiles while holding "The Drifting Classroom", a manga that had an impact on him when he read it as a boy, and his own masterpiece, "HUNTER x HUNTER".

The result of dedication

What is Yamagata University for Togashi-san?

"It kindly watched over me. The university was like a mother to me." - 🐶 Yoshihiro Togashi

As the calm days spent in Yamagata were a source of vitality and growth, he continues to run at the forefront of the demanding world of manga.

Yoshihiro Togashi - manga artist

Yoshihiro Togashi, a boy who loved drawing by nature, has been drawing pictures in storyboard manga format since he was in the early grades of elementary school. At the beginning, he used to draw at home and school, inspired by his classmates who were better at drawing than him. Mr. Togashi liked the school environment and wanted to stay in school even after he grew up. So, with a simple idea in mind:

"A school teacher, and because I also like painting, I have no choice but to become an art teacher"

he aimed to become an art teacher and enrolled the Faculty of Education Department of Fine Arts (currently, the Faculty of Regional Education and Culture/ Plastic Arts Course). At first, Mr. Togashi and his parents envisioned his future as an art teacher at a junior high school. He was leading a peaceful college life.

However, during the subsequent teaching practice, he became keenly aware of how difficult and challenging the profession of a teacher was, and decided to give up his career as a teacher to become a manga artist.

In general, it seems that manga artists have more hurdles to overcome and it's a tougher road than that of a teacher, but it appears that Mr. Togashi could see the road beforehand. In his peaceful college life, he had plenty of time to draw manga. Students of the Art Department naturally belonged to the Art Study Group Circle. As an extension of the classes, he was doing things such as oil paintings and presentations, but on days when there were no circle activities, he went back to his apartment as soon as the classes were over, devoting himself to creating manga. Eventually, he began submitting his works to "Weekly Shounen Jump" manga awards, winning honorable mentions and awards in rapid succession. His dreams were steadily coming true.

T/N: In 1987, Togashi received a honorable mention in Shueisha's 24th Hop Step Award for "Jura no Mizuki" and the 34th Tezuka Award for "Buttobi Straight".

In the circle, he also got to know a friend who had won an award in a manga magazine, just like him. He recalls how much fun it was to have a drink and talk about trivial things such as Famicom (NES). Soon after, Mr. Togashi was assigned to an editor in charge as a Weekly Shounen Jump's promising talent. He made his debut as a manga artist with an one-shot (T/N: "Tonda Birthday Present", published in Shounen Jump 1987 Winter Special Edition) while he was still attending school. In addition, by the recommendation of the editor in charge, he moved to Tokyo when the serialization started. Although the timing was just before graduation, both his teachers and friends agreed to send him off. Even becoming a city dweller, Mr. Togashi's love for his hometown remains strong: "Level E" is set in Yamagata and he does not miss a homecoming twice a year.

"Looking back, it's because I spent my college days in Yamagata, where there were less upsets and temptations, that I was able to find what I wanted to do, and maybe because of something like growth and vitality accumulated back then, I'm able to do my best in the city now. Find out what you really want to do and what you like during your college years when you have more time to spare, and go to the city if necessary, still, it's not too late", says Togashi.

In recent years, he has been forced to take a break from the Hunter x Hunter serialization due to a back injury caused by weight gain, but he has succeeded in losing weight by walking and jogging, and is recovering well. Now, his hobby is running, which he started doing to overcome the back pain. As his 50th birthday approaches, his current goal is to try a full marathon in his 50s. He's looking forward to taking advantage of adversity.

"If you have many favorite things, you can change your course in a positive way even if you have to give up one thing. So, it's good to get in the habit of finding what you like."

The message sent by Mr. Togashi about what we should do during our college years is full of persuasive power, precisely because these are the words of a senior who has achieved his second "like".

Yoshihiro Togashi

Yoshihiro Togashi ● Born in Shinjo City, Yamagata Prefecture. He made his debut as a manga artist after receiving a manga award while attending the Faculty of Education Department of Fine Arts (currently the Faculty of Regional Education and Culture). His representative works are "Yu Yu Hakusho", "HUNTER × HUNTER", and "Level E", which have been made into anime.

In his atelier, Togashi-sensei concentrates on the manga work. This is where he creates the works that fascinate so many people.

T/N: It may be interesting to read Togashi's comments from the WSJ Table of Contents from 2016 (Hunter x Hunter serialization). He talks about his weight loss and exercise program. Even though he apparently succeeded in losing weight through running, it seems that his health issues are a little bit more complicated as the hiatuses continue due to health problems. Sensei, we wish you the best!